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#fucking uhhhh
shhh-secret-time · 3 months
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Another request from A03! I am so very sorry this one took so long I actually had to start this one over a few times because I actually lost a big chunk of it when I first started writing it! Nothing takes the wind out of my sails faster.
Warning: NSFW, Dom!Stan, Sub!Reader, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Lovers, Writer doesn't know shit about college or sports ball, Slight Voyeurism, Strong Language, Stan might be a little OOC
Pairing: Stan x Fem!Reader
Notes: Hey uh welcome to this week's episode of, "Writer don't know how to write conflict to save her life!" I'm very bad at coming up with a reason to fight people, it's not in my nature so I'm sorry if it seems forced!
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You hated Stan Marsh
You hated him and most of the football players at your university. Them and their spotlight hogging, annoying, disgusting, sweaty, irritating habits! You and your girls bust your ass off at every practice, sports game, and pep rally South Park University places on your teams’ shoulders, and what do you get for it?
To hear things like, "Oooooh did you see how Cartman played center?" or "Clyde is so hot when he takes his helmet off and has that messy hair!" even, "Kyle plays football AND basketball with perfect grades? Why is he soooo perfect!"
But the one that got under your skin the most was Stanely fucking Marsh, the star quarterback. The man walks around the school with his little crowd of admirers everywhere he went, and for what? Just because he throws a stupid ball around and can run quick? Fuck him.
Your girls put in twice the work they do; you've been to every one of their games. You had to. Your group had to coordinate with the football players, the basketball players, the volleyball team, the hockey team, hell you even had to coordinate with the wrestling team. It was exhausting trying to keep up with it all.
And what did your cheer squad get? Perverted remarks and dismissive attitudes! The final straw was when the Cows mascot got more respect than your group did. You brought your complaints up to the school's councilor, to the headmaster, to anyone who would listen.
Word travels fast around the small town of South Park, people dating and breaking up. Who cheated on who, who's throwing the best parties, who threw up in who's car. Shit like that. Not much changes from high school to college, just a lot less sneaking around and more energy drinks and pain meds. So of course, when your complaints got to the one and only Stan Marsh, he confronted you about it.
"Hey! Hey wait up!" His voice rings out past the busy sounds of other students trying to get to their classes. "You're the captain of the cheer squad, right?" He all but corners you while you're walking with your friends, he doesn't have his little squad of goons following him around.
"Are you serious?" How could he not know who you are?! You've only been to every one of his stupid games! Only been sitting on the sidelines of every practice! "Yes! I am! What do you want?!"
Stan flinched back at the venom in your voice but that didn't stop him from shooting you a look. "Uh...did I do something wrong? I heard from one of the guys that you're not exactly...happy and I was just trying to figure out what we did."
"What you did. What did he do girls? Can anyone answer Mr. Marsh's question~?" The tone in your voice did not match the smile on your face. It sounded chipper but anyone listening could tell it was fake.
Your little group always had your back, most of them felt the same way you did. If anything, it just amplified that anger, knowing your girls were feeling underappreciated. It was your job as the captain to protect your girls, but every time you brought it up to them, they seemed to shy away from saying anything.
"Well, geez Stan, you gotta admit your team's been kinda hoggin' the spotlight. You know what I'm tryin' ta say don't ya?" It wasn't just your girls you had to protect; it was your sweet little angel Butters too. Although you guys called him by his first name when cheering with him, he was Leo to you. And right now, Leo was trying to bridge the gap between you and your rival.
"Veeery good Leo! That's right, Stan and his team don't seem to give a shit how hard we work to cheer his team on! The whole school would rather worship the ground their star quarterback walks on!"
"The school doesn't worship the ground I walk on! You can't pin this on me!" Stan shot back trying to defend himself, it was hard not to feel attacked even though you were the only one glaring at him.
A part of you knew that he was right, it really wasn't his fault that small towns in America went crazy for football.
"W-we're not pinnin' anything on ya! Just sayin' maybe, it wouldn't hurt to tell the guys to show us a little bit more respect! You know Eric's been pickin' on me ever since I joined the girls, sayin' some awfully mean things."
"Leo is right! You may not have a hand in the way people think but that's just the problem, you don't do anything to stop it! If you were really the captain of your little team you'd step up!" You took a step towards him, your face getting inches away from his face.
Ignoring the fact that you had to look up at him, you wouldn't let him leave without getting your point across. His eyes narrowed down at you, matching the energy you were giving out to him. Butters looked between the both of you with a nervous look, he could practically see the electricity bouncing between your eyes. The poor blond didn't mean to start a fight, he was just trying to help.
"If you had a problem with my team, you should have come to me then. Why did I have to find out from other people?" Stan's voice dipped to a low growl which almost made you give one in return.
"I shouldn't have had to go to anyone in the first place Marsh! Get your team under control or else!" You felt your face turn red; it was getting harder to argue with him when those ocean blue eyes were burning into yours.
That was new. Just going to lock that in your vault of things to not think about again.
Thankfully Butters finally stepped in, physically putting his body between the both of you. "C-come on now guys let’s all just calm down. We both said our peace and now we can work it out, right? Next time we practice we can be on the same page!"
"Sure Butters." Stan clicked his tongue as he looked at his friend, but that didn't stop him from getting one last jab in. "You better hope you don't slip up princess, because if you do. I'll be there and I'll be quick to remind you of your shortcomings." And with that he turned on his heel and started walking down the hallways.
"Princess?! Excuse me?!"
"Oh geez..."
Stan slammed his locker with a little more force than he should have, the rusty door screamed out and bounced back open. With an annoyed groan he pushed back on the metal with a little less force, but the damage was already done, the door was now on its last leg and would most likely not shut right. Just more fuel to the fire.
"Whoa dude what did that poor locker do to you? Don't you think it's been through enough." Kenny looked over from his locker with a little smirk.
One of the few times Kenny was without his parka, a towel wrapped around his waist and his bright blond hair clung to his skin. Stan could smell the smell of fresh soap and hints of pine in the air. He sighed in response to Kenny's teasing, clearly not in the mood for his friend's antics.
"Not now man, I don't have the energy." Stan grabbed his jacket and pulled it up onto his torso.
"Ah that's not good, wanna tell your old pal Kenny? I won't even charge ya, come on what's going on."
Stan pressed his lips together and he tried to focus on zipping up the worn-out brown coat he always wore, the zipper struggled to hold together. He cursed under his breath a few times before the thing finally zipped all the way up. For a moment Stan thought about not saying anything, but Kenny was never the type to judge or the type to let things go if he knew something was bothering his friends.
"You know the captain of the cheerleaders?"
"The really hot one?"
"Kenny!" Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, something he picked up from his mother when they were both aggravated, "That's not the point."
"Says you. She's a baddy for real. Take no shit kinda woman~! The feisty ones are the ones that bite the hardest. You got your work cut out for you if you're trying to shoot your shot. I heard she turned down everyone else on the team!"
"Dude! I'm not gonna ask her out!"
"You're not? Then why'd you bring her up? Is this about the fight you guys had in the hall?"
Stan stopped and looked up at him in shock. "You heard about that already?"
"Oh yeah, you guys's are the talk of the school. Everyone thinks you guys had a little lovers spat. I had to hear the whole story from Leo!" Kenny chuckled as he grabbed started getting changed, pulling the patchy orange pants up his legs.
"Even you're calling him Leo now..." Stan muttered but quickly shook his head, "but that's not what I was going to say! I was going to...talk about that but if you already know."
"Yeah, I don't really know what that's all about but Leo kinda spelled it out for me. She's not mad at you per say just mad at the position you're in. A jealousy thing maybe but honestly, I think she's just tired of taking the back seat so to speak."
"What am I supposed to do about that? It's not my fault!" Stan threw his hands up the irritation on face made Kenny laugh again.
"I didn't say it was dude. I'm just telling you what I think, but man, she really got under your skin." Kenny smirks over at him with a playful purr.
"No, she didn't! I don't even care."
"Yep, that totally looks like the face that doesn't care~" Kenny pulled his zipper up and adjusted the collar as he spoke. "Look, let’s pretend for a second you do care. If I were you, I'd just talk to her. Ask her what you can do to make things right, because I'll be honest man, she's the last person you wanna make an enemy of. She'll make your life hell." Kenny finished making his point by wrapping his arm around Stan's neck and pulling him in for a side hug. "Besides, it's not like you have to work close with her, just work around her."
"Yeah..."
But of course, it could never be that simple, could it? Every time Stan tried to catch you to talk to you something got in his way. Monday you were busy with your classes zipping around the hall, Stan could barely get a word in. Tuesday you had to help Butters with his outfit so of course you didn't have time for him. Wednesday was the big pep rally for Friday's game, so that meant Thursday was for practice.
Thursday was hell. Stan was supposed to be focused on getting his team ready for the game. They were practicing dodging other players and passing the ball across the field. Stan was supposed to be working on his throw, he needed the ball to go further than normal. Kyle was getting faster at running and if Stan fell behind their whole strategy would be thrown out the window.
But of course, you couldn't make it easy. It was getting harder and harder to focus on what he needed to do when you were being tossed in the air. The way your dark green and gold skirt caught the sunlight, and the way the puffy looking poms in your hands shook back and forth. Stan knew he was in trouble when he stopped paying attention for a moment when you laughed at something Annie said. Next thing he knew he felt the football knock him on the side of the head. And of course, that's when you looked over, he felt his face heat up when you giggled and covered your mouth.
He hated you. Hated your pretty smile, the way you laughed made his blood boil and his body turn hot. Your stupid lips curled into a gorgeous smile and the way your thighs looked good enough to sink his teeth into, what he'd give to walk over and kiss that smug look off your-
Stan let out a growl that came from deep in his chest as he threw the ball down the field hitting Kyle in the chest. The poor red head just took it, letting out a grunt as it managed to get past the gear meant to keep him safe. He wouldn't let his mind wonder there, not for you. Not when you're the one who attacked him and then started avoiding him every chance you got.
"Marsh!" He winced when he heard Coach Miles below his name, he didn't need to see his face to know he was in trouble.
With a sigh he took his helmet off and ran his fingers through his messy black hair, the helmet causing his hair to stick up. As he walked over, he could feel your eyes on him, and all he could do was scowl. Trying not to think about how you must be eating this up.
Stan's scowl dropped when he heard the coach call your last name and gesture for you to come over. Your eyes widened at the way the coach called for you, you'd never heard him so angry at you before. You gave your poms to Wendy as you ran over, walking behind him as he gestured for you and Stan to follow him.
Coach Miles took you both back inside through the gym, once the three of you were alone, he crossed his arms and glared down at you both. "So, the big game is tomorrow and some of the students have come to be with worries about the way you two were at each other’s throats." He paused for only a moment, crossing his arms over his chest. "Let me make something very clear, we are not in high school anymore. So whatever problem you two have with each other, fix it. You’re adults, act like them."
"I've tried! She doesn't want to work this out!" Stan's mouth moved before he thought about the consequences, but he was just so tired of this whole thing. Even if he agreed with his Coach, this whole situation had him at the end of his rope.
"What?! No, you didn't! You just bitched to Kenny-"
"I didn't bitch! I was asking for advice!" Stan stopped and glared over at you again, it seems like that's the only look he gave you nowadays. "I tried to talk to you in the halls and you blew me off!" How did you even know about he talked to Kenny anyway?!
Fucking Butters.
"I told you what my problem was with you Marsh!"
"No, you didn't! All you did was-"
"Enough!" The Coach's voice boomed over your little squabble and echoed off the gymnasium walls. "I was hoping you two would be mature enough that I didn't have to do this, but I guess I was wrong."
You and Stan watched as Coach Miles stuck his hand in his pocket and fished out a folded-up piece of paper. Unfolding it, he handed it to you and huffed. It was a warning slip, something he never gave out to you or Stan. "So, unless you both figure this out, you're both benched. Off the field and you can watch the rest of the students play without you."
"What?!" Your voices came out in unison, shocked at the very thought of not getting to be a part of tomorrows big game.
"I mean it! Figure yourselves out or you're out! I can have McCormick take your spot Marsh and Testaburger has plenty of experience leading!"
"But Coach-"
"No! I shouldn't have had to do this in the first place! I'm not your dad, I'm not your counselor, I'm a Coach! You both are lucky I'm even giving you a second chance! You have until tomorrow." Every word that came out of Coach Miles's mouth pierced like a sword.
You flinched and pulled back just as Stan did each time, he emphasized his frustration. It was a verbal lashing unlike one you've ever gotten, and you were grateful when he turned and left. You weren't sure if you could take much more.
An uncomfortable silence fell over you and Stan as you both just stood there. The slight buzzing sound of the fans overhead and Stan's deep breaths were all you could hear. Each time he inhaled through his nose he would exhale through his mouth, but it didn't look like it was actually doing anything to calm him.
You've heard when Stan got yelled at by Coach Miles, and not once did he look this angry. Your eyes trailed down his jawline watching as he started grinding his teeth together, the look on his face said it all. He was holding something back, he looked like a lit fuse ready to blow. You didn't know if that anger was at you, the Coach, the situation, or all the above. But a part of you really wanted to find out, and Miles did tell you to work it out.
"So... you wanted to talk. I'm here."
Stan's head snapped over towards you, the look on his face was a mix of anger and bewilderment. Shocked that you would break the silence like that. He felt his stomach churn, a feeling he hasn't felt since he was a kid.
It always felt like he was on a roller-coaster going too fast, that fluttering feeling one would feel when the ride would hit that high and then dropped to that low. Only this time it felt like the pit of his stomach was also on fire, his stomach was a cauldron ready to boil over. As he opened his mouth to speak nothing came out, he just let his mouth hang open for a second and then he shut it again. He was holding back still.
You rolled your eyes and jut your hip out, arms crossing under your chest. "Just say it. I know you want to yell, so yell. I'm a big girl I can take whatever you could possibly throw at me."
When Stan didn't respond but instead walked towards you, your arms dropped, and you took a step back. So caught up in the dark blues of his eye you barely registered when your back hit the wall, it wasn't until you realized he had you backed into a corner that you grasped the situation you were in. He slammed his arm over your head making your heart leap in your chest, and your hands come up in defensively.
You weren't scared that he was going to hurt you, you never got that from Stan, he never seemed like that type. But the way he looked down at you made your heart speed up and a shiver run down your spine. Never had you felt like a rabbit trapped in a pen with a wolf. Something about that excited you.
"What are you doing-"
"Shut.up." Stan's voice dips an octave as he whispers out the command.
The gravel in his voice is cut by the way he slams his lips down onto yours. You have just enough time to push back into the kiss when he pulls away and continues. "You...have made my life.... fucking hell...this entire week!" His complaints almost falls on deaf ears from the way he's kissing you in between them. "I don't know why I get so.... worked up with you!" He emphasizes the last part by grabbing your jaw and forcing your face up towards him.
It's only been a week and you've already got him wrapped around your finger, so tightly wound up that he was beginning to snap. And maybe you were wrapped around his, the smirk on your face was short lived when he bit your bottom lip. A small gasp escaping your lips giving him enough of an opening to slip his tongue in your mouth. You moan against his lips and grip the front of his jersey by the collar. If he wanted to get handsy you could get handsy. You pulled him down into the kiss somehow deepening it further.
Your tongues push back and forth against each other, neither giving way to the other. His tongue was relentless but so was yours. It wasn't until you felt a bit of drool dripping down the side of your mouth did it click. You were making out with, what you thought, was the biggest asshole on campus. Yet you couldn't pull away, couldn't pull away from his hold on you.
On the other side of things, Stan's mind was going blank. With every twist of your tongue and lips he felt himself getting addicted. Hungry lips moving from yours to devour the soft flesh of your neck. He bites down with enough force to pull a cry from you and to leave a mark. Right where your shoulder meets your neck, teeth marks bright and red poked out of your cheerleading uniform.
"You fucking ass! That's going to leave a mark!" You hiss at him, but it just turns to another moan as he sucks on the patch of skin near your collarbone.
"Good!" He growls back coming off your skin with a pop. "I have tried all week to work with you! All fucking week to work with your bitchy attitude!"
"My attitude?! Fuck you! I was trying-"
"You'd like that wouldn't you?" He cuts you off with a smirk, one that would give the devil a run for his money.
"What?!" You white knuckle his jersey with both hands now.
"You wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid." His hands reach down to the back of your thighs, cupping them as he lifts you up and slams you back into the wall. Not enough to hurt but enough to remind you of the predicament you're in.
"Says the man who had his tongue down my throat!" Predicament be damned. He would not win this fight just because he slots himself between your legs and pushes his arousal against your thigh.
Those football pants left nothing for the imagination, the thought of leaving him with that hard on in those pants crossed your mind for a moment. But when he rolled his hips against your clothed sex you had to focus on biting back the moan instead.
"It shut you up, didn't it? You didn't seem to want me to stop when you were moaning against me."
You glared down at him and ran your fingers through his hair, giving the roots a firm tug; you smirked when he moaned. His face turned red making him lunge forward and bite your neck again. Your nails dug into his scalp which only seemed to encourage him to leave marks.
"Just shut the fuck up and...and fuck me already!" You tried to keep the moan out of your voice, but when he found that soft spot on your neck it just turned into a whimper.
That smug bastard lips turned up into a smirk, he pulls back just long enough to take a look around the gym. All he could hear was you panting heavily trying to catch your breath and the same dull fan buzzing. He looked down at you for a moment and for a second you thought he'd pull away. That he'd come to his senses and realize that maybe this wasn't exactly what the Coach meant.
But he didn't. Instead, he pulls your face back up for another kiss, this one was a lot less angry. There was still that heat behind each press of his lips, but it was more controlled, not like when he was trying to get you to stop talking. He presses his forehead against yours for a moment, the sweat from practice earlier dripping down his neck, it would almost be sweet if the situation leading up to it didn't happen.
"We have to be quick."
"Here?! Are you out of your mind, what if we get caught!?"
"Would you just let me-" You feel him move you to his forearm, where he pins you between the wall and his body. "You've got me so worked up! I don't know why I find your endless complaining and bitching so hot!" The confession spilled out of his mouth once again without a second thought as his hands move up your skirt.
His hands grope and squeeze at your thighs and then your ass pulling another sweet moan from your lips. "Don't act like you're free from it! You like to think you're sooooo much better than me but you're just like me!"
"I know!" He grunts as he pushes your underwear to the side making you shiver when the cold air hits your cunt.
Stan watches as your eyes flutter shut when he slams his fingers into your wet hole, his fingers coated with your sweet juices. He licks his lips when your mouth hangs open and a shaky gasp is pulled from you. "Look at you already so fucking wet for me. I thought you hated me huh?"
"Sh... shit. I-I do hate you!" Your weak attempt to bite back fall short when he curls his finger in you, slamming his fingers in and out of you.
His lips ghost over yours as he buries himself to the knuckle in your pretty cunt. He watches as you suck his fingers in further and further. The sounds you're making makes his cock throb in his pants, straining against the white material. "Yeah? Doesn't feel like you hate me. You were ordering me to fuck you earlier."
"I-I... oh fuck! Harder!"
Stan smirks down at you and there's no comment this time. How can he when you look so damn sweet, nails digging into his shoulders clinging to him for dear life. He stops his fingers and glares down at you. "Say please."
"B-bite me."
He does. He leans down and bites down on the tip of your ear, his husky voice laced with danger. "I'm not moving my fingers from your cunt until I get a please."
"G-God damn it Stan j-just.... ugh please! Please go harder!"
For a moment he looks up like he's thinking about it, pondering whether he should or not. You could have smacked that smug look off his face but when his fingers drill deeper into you all you can do is throw your head back. As if it wasn't enough, he finds that perfect spot, making you clench around his digits.
"Fuck you look so good when you're like this. You gonna cum around my fingers princess? Go ahead, let me feel you clench around them." He talks you through your orgasm with a steady tone, making you lull your head to the side as you reach your climax.
His fingers stay buried in you for a bit before he pulls them out, you almost whimper at the loss of them. But it was cut short when he wrapped his lips around his fingers. Sucking the slick off his digit while keeping eye contact with you. The telltale sign of a blush crept up your neck and across your face when he removed his index finger from his mouth.
"You're so gross..."
"Whatever." He clicked his tongue at your comment, even after he pulled an orgasm out of you; you still had something to say. His hands move across your ass again giving the flesh a firm squeeze. You slapped his shoulder when he chuckled at your little squeak. "Hmm~ I liked you begging. Let’s see if I can't get more of that out of you."
He moves his hands down to his pants and slips them down to his thighs. He fumbles for a moment with his boxers before he just decides to give up and pull his cock through the flap. He did say this needed to be quick and he already wasted time fingering you against the gym wall. Not that he regretted it, he had half a mind to do it again, but if the precum leaking out of the slit of his cock was anything to go by he need release soon.
Stan glides his cock against your folds a few times, coating his cock in your arousal, his breath hitches when you roll your hips back. When his eyes meet yours again his knees almost buckle under the weight of your lustful gaze. The way your eyelids lower and your mouth falls open again with each drag of his cock. He takes the base of his member and slaps it against your cunt a few times. "Come on princess, tell me you want this. Tell me you don't really hate me."
"I...." You trail off, letting your stubborn attitude take over but Stan isn't making it easy. Each passing second you don't answer him he nudges the tip of his cock in your entrance, not quite pushing in to give you that pleasure. "I hate that I like it that you call me that! I hate the way my heart speeds up when you kiss me! I hate that I like you!" Your words roll off your tongue like a confession, the way you throw your head back the frustration growing in your tone.
Stan growls again, that sound being pulled out of him more times today than his entire life, but he can't resist you. It's like he's a puppet and you're holding all the strings. His hands come up to your hips and guide you down the length of his cock just as your legs wrap around his waist. The muscles in your legs keep him in place making his cock throb again, you feel it bob against your walls.
"You have...no fucking idea...how much I've wanted this! Every time you got thrown in the air-" He lets out a shaky moan as he pulls you off his cock and slides you right back down. "Every... every time you giggled and flashed that perfect smile." Stan nuzzled into the crook of your neck while his hips begin to find the perfect rhythm. "Everything about you is perfect and I fucking hate it!"
Stan's little burst of irritation comes out from the way he begins picking up speed. You cling onto him as he continues piercing up into you, your arms wrapping around his neck to try as your back slides up and down against the wall. "Oh god Stan!"
"Listen to yourself. Calling my name like that, you drive me crazy! I'm not going to be able to stop. You gonna let me cum in you? I don't wanna stain that pretty uniform of yours." The way he's moaning out your name in between breaths makes your stomach do flips.
You can't find the strength to answer so you settle for nodding and moaning his name. He doesn't say anything else besides the occasional cursing and small grunts, so focused on bullying your insides. You feel the coil in your stomach tighten and tighten until the knot starts to snap. Your walls grip his cock as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, your voice has gone hoarse from moaning and screaming his name. He feels his cock twitch when he sees you climax around him, it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. The way your mouth hangs open, lips slightly swollen from how hard you kissed him. The way your hair was out of place and the way your uniform was messed up from how hard he was thrusting into you.
"Fuck...I'm...I'm cumming." He groaned as he emptied himself inside you. Thick hot arousal shooting up and painting your insides, it made you whimper and squirm.
There was another moment of silence that fell over you two, it wasn't the heavy awkward one the Coach had left you in. It was almost comfortable by the way Stan was pressing soft kisses into your neck, his lips moving up to your jawline and to the corner of your mouth. You ran your fingers through his hair again trying to smooth it out instead of tugging.
"So....this certainly was one way to work out our problems..."
Stan hummed in response as he slowly pulled you off him, you couldn't help but gasp at the feeling of loss again. As he pulls his pants and boxers up, he takes out the small towel he has tucked away in the pockets of his pants, and gently begins to clean your thighs. The action makes you smile a little, how one minute he could go from destroying you against a wall to treating you like some doll. When he sets you down his hands linger on your hips a little longer like he's trying to make sure you're alright enough to stand.
"Yeah...hey, I'm sorry. I'm not...good at confrontation and I shouldn't have got defense with you." His apology almost makes your heart break but at the same time it feels so warm.
"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken my jealousy out on you. You didn't deserve that, it's not your fault." You fiddle with the material of his jersey, rolling it between your fingertips.
"Jealous? Why would you be jealous?" Stan asks completely dumbfounded by the idea.
"Because everyone always talks about you and your team! It's always how great you are, and everyone seems to like you!"
"Really? Because I always hear about how amazing you guys are. Every game the guys always feel better knowing that even if we lose you guys were cheering for us. I can't tell you how happy Butter's has been since you let him join the squad." He chuckles and goes to move a lock of your hair behind your ear.
"Awh...that's so sweet." You look up at him with a little giggle and a smile, which he returns. "Now I feel all bad."
"Nah don't feel bad...I'm just glad we got this straightened out. I know it's a little backwards but...do you think I could take you out after the game tomorrow? Win or lose I just...kinda wanna spend more time with you." He gives you a sheepish smile and a small blush creeps across his face.
"Only if you don't mind me bitching." You joke back with a little hum, pushing yourself up against him.
"It'll go great with mine." He smirks back down at you and places a kiss on your lips.
Word travels fast around campus. When you both walked out of the gym smiling at each other neither teams could believe it. Even more so when next week you were walking around with Stan's jacket over your shoulders and your pinky wrapped around his. The star quarterback's last name written in big blocky letters on your back and your lipstick staining his cheek. Definitely not a normal way to start a relationship, but that was you and Stan's little secret.
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notsoevilmagistrate · 2 months
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Nothing like the relationship between two men starting a business together
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0rphiichaze · 8 months
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🐎 + 🪄
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JohnDave Week, Day Five !!
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✩ Reblogs are appreciated !!
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boobaloof · 9 months
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Horizon Tag Game
Thank you for tagging me @nerd-artist! :)
1. Ride or die ship (Your otp):
Ereloy. When I first got my ps4 Horizon was one of the first games I ever played back in 2019 and MAN. The dynamic and stories that surround these two. They're polar opposites both in writing, origin and personality. Like many Ereloys I fell hard at the Two Minutes Convo™️ back in hzd when Aloy was all mission and no time to waste. Not only did she reassure Erend when he most needed it, but also promised him a bit more of her time than what little he had asked her for. (Also, the way Guerrilla team describes Erend in regards of his relationship with Aloy is just SUCH TEASING. They love their friendship as much as we do and the puppy mentions are my fave meal.)
Their relationship has developed like HELL in hfw and I'm so here for it. Their closeness and chemistry is out of this world, and to see Aloy be soft and smile with him makes me hope for more moments in HZ3 where she can have fun with him when we go to 🕯️The Claim🕯️. The care they have for eachother is more than evident, too, and all the special focus they both had in HFW still has me thinking they might be endgame in Hz3. I just can't escape them.
2. Most annoying ship: Hating a ship in public? In this economy??
3. Second favorite ship: Morlund and Abadund. Ray of sunshine and little rain cloud ship? Sign me the fuck up. Oh also Vanasha x Uthid. Delish.
4. Favourite platonic relationship: Erend and Varl, whatever Erend and Kotallo have going on, Aloy and Talanah, Beta and Erend, Zo and Aloy, ALOY AND BETA (Super exited for the possible 'Teaching Beta how to hunt' Aloy moment. Need more sisters bonding!)
5. Underrated ship: Morlund x Abadund.
6. Overrated ship: The Horizon fandom is kinda small tbh, so, none thus far.
7. One thing i would change in canon: Ugh. A lot. Kinda noticed that the horizon writing has been kinda lazy after hzd so that explains a lot. Varl’s death, the returning character's treatment in hfw, (Erend got written like a CLOWN in the base dialogue), Most of the Hfw DLC, the small amount of Beta and Aloy bonding in hfw, which made the whole 'sister' thing came outta the blue honestly, The Zeniths showing up too soon in the story for my liking, some writing, mostly.
8. Something canon did right: You know what? HZD. BEAUTIFUL introduction to the game's amazing world. The effort that came into creating every tribe is evident and each one of them has this gorgeous presence in the games. Then the worldbuilding, too. The amazing characters that were made (both main and minor), and to tie it off, the way everything comes together in a perfect symphony surely makes the Horizon universe be unique. The delicate balance of the world and its inhabitant's interactions with one another's makes the world so rich and gorgeous. Major kudos there.
9. A thing i'm proud of creating for the fandom PLEASE BRAG ABOUT YOURSELF I WANT TO SEE/READ YOUR ART: Well, I never thought I'd ever be able to draw digitally and let alone post it online to begin with, so it's been a ride for me. I've evolved a lot ever since my first drawing was posted here, and I'm more than grateful for everyone that has enjoyed the fruits of what I can offer.
The most difficult piece I've ever done and my favorite this far is the Evening at Hidden Ember piece. I have it printed in crappy paper and framed on my bookshelf. It was HELL for me to draw, but it makes it worth it even more because the outcome was lovely.
Also, my fics. NEVER would have imagined I'd be able to write anything in my second language, so yea.
10. A character who is perfect to me (Wouldn't change a thing): Beta is a gorgeous character. I love how different she is to both Elisabet and Aloy, and what it brings to the table. I'd love to see what she will become in hz3. She has this huge potential it'd be sad if she remained as Aloy's gal in the chair. Let her see the world!
Erend is nice, too. I know I mentioned the HFW writing, but the whole base thing can be overlooked when you compare it to the general writing of Erend.
I'm easily unimpressed with the hard, serious, tragic-past-having character trope that a post apocalyptic like horizon can create. It's most of Sony's male protagonists. It's gotten quite old for me.
So to see the kindness, fun, and emotional sensitivity Erend's character represents in Horizon is like drinking a huge glass of cold water after exiting the desert. Guerrilla played the "Crass and Loud male character" in on itself with Erend, which is something that can easily backfire if treated poorly, (hence why I hated the hfw base Erend writing reducing him to just, loud and crass and drunk. It was a gross character regression) but the way they did everything else? They aced Erend GORGEOUSLY.
To remain kind and gentle despite everything, specially in a world like horizon, is a feat, and I applaud that. (While also having a sharp bite, of course, and not making it the whole character's theme and personality.)
That's why his introduction in hzd is the way it is- That's why Erend looks the way he does. He is there to show that not everyone has to be what they seem. So when the heavily armored, loud, piercing having, mohawk and muttonchop wearing guy ended up not being an asshole I was quite happy. I breathed, because I' didn't want to see the basic ass hard guy narrative.
TL;DR I love my fucking bear and the free sister everyone gained in hfw.
11. The character I relate to the most and why:
Aloy. Not much of a social being tbh. Mostly everyone I've met here knows I suck ass at staying in touch or one-on-one chats (I do apreciate y'all though, even if I'm not good at showing it). Most comfy talking on public servers. Def.
12. Character(-s) i hate the most and why: Not many characters to actually hate, to be honest. The bad guys are just 'bad' for narrative purposes no matter how many horrible things they've done. Most characters in Horizon are so well made that I just can't hate them.
Maybe I could hate a character if they're poorly written, or if they represent a character archetype we've already seen in-game, but the hate is not inherently on the character itself, instead it's directed at the lost potential and lack of originality the character represents.
13. Something i've learned from the fandom: About the Horizon fandom itself, it's that it's very friendly and tight knit. Everyone here knows eachother, (specially the hzd oldies), so if any nonsense tries to take flight (Like the good ol' 'new fans trying to stir shit up in a generally peaceful fandom' or the famous Shipping Manifestos™️ explainig why MY ship better than YOUR ship, we can just laugh at the utter idiocy, block, and keep creating.
14. Three tags i seek out on ao3: Friends to lovers, Angst/Comfort, The unadulterated, pure, grade E smut, Modern AU, Coffee Shop AU, etc.
15. A song i strongly associate with my otp/favourite character:
Something about us (Daft Punk) for Ereloy. Much pining much yearning. Delicious.
Tagging anyone who'd like to participate! These are fun to read.
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blacksuppository · 11 months
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random ass images of lodun i have on my phone because i want him so bad
i dont get it why do i have so many feelings for this fuck
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now for some actual in game screenshots i took while i felt my brain rotting in his presence
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thrax. the kaithe is here
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buttercup-barf · 11 months
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can u draw me
Ugh, FINE. Here you GO, you FRUIT. /lh
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someonechaotic · 25 days
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at this rate I'm just doom scrolling, looking at blogs and looking at people like
"YES, I'm following you, your my new friend now" when I see one interest in common dont tell them I said this shhhhhh
but I have officially made one tumbkr friend who likes lemon demon I am overjoyed, purely happily fulfilled, merely ecstatic, so happy I could become a self sentient arcade machine because electric desires are unravelling my wires how come autocorrect doesn't automatically assume that I'm gonna say that I say that all the time because cabinet man is my biggest obsession yet it still dosent guess that I'm about to say electric desires have unraveled all my wires okay it got like 3 words and then gave up come on you can do better stupid phone
it appears I'm rambling I must shut up
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calronhunt · 9 months
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Thought of a title for this kitty cat story but i literally have to illustrate it to really get the point of the name across
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which is SO pretentious but also this might have to be the title
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toadstool32 · 2 years
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footlongdingledong · 6 days
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sprinklethetangerine · 8 months
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If I could fist fight a fly, I WOULD BEAT THAT BITCH INTO NEXT YEAR
FLIES ARE THE BANE OF MY ENTIRE EXISTENCE AND I HOPE THEY SUFFER UNIMAGINABLE AMOUNTS OF PAIN
YOU COULD BZZT BZZT ANYWHERE ELSE WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE IN MY FACE
THERES MORE LIGHT OVER THERE MOTH WANNABE WHY DONT YOU GO TO THE LIGHT YOU STUPID BI-
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fanghaunt · 8 months
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𝘏𝘰𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘉𝘰𝘣𝘰, 2023 • 4x4, acrylic on canvas
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beaxmice · 1 year
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my biggest fear is making a whole rant post about my favorite character or show and then completely fucking it up
like what if what i say about my blorbo isn't right. what if i missed the point. what if i took the symbolism a little too literally or didn't even catch it at all. i'd lose my shit
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pupboyxander · 30 days
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“awe poor lil pup, you seem so restless. do you want something, puppy?”
“you can look at me and whine all you wanna, i can’t give you want you want til you ask. oh i know it’s so embarrassing having to say what you want, hm? c’mon, speak, pup. i know you can do it”
“good boy! awe did that only make you needier? so adorable, squeezing your legs together because you want to be filled so bad. be good, lay down and spread those legs for me.”
“god you sound so pretty when i slide into you angel, such a pretty little pup.”
“fuck, you’re taking me so well. keep making those pretty noises for me puppy, you feel so good on my cock.”
“you want more? you want me to touch your cock while i fuck you? what a greedy pup. get on all fours for me.”
“such a little puppy in heat, begging so desperately for me to breed you. who am i to deny my pup my cum when he just needs it that badly?”
“fuuck, just like that. oh god, yes, grind against my hand while i fill you up, good boy.”
“getting close, puppy? you want to cum? beg.”
“goood boy, that’s it angel, just like that. god you feel so good, pulling me in deeper, cumming all over my cock.”
hhh thinkin….a lotta thoughts rn…..
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carlyraejepsans · 2 years
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i will never forgive popular UT fanon for using chara as a scapegoat in the genocide run and making "sans recognizes them and attacks them on sight regardless of what run they're in" headcanons so pervasive.
mostly because "restless spirit of a long dead child who's obsessed with the concept of cosmic retribution and facing consequences for your actions" + "guy whose job is just that but he treats it on par with his hot dog sidegig" is potentially one of the most hysterical dynamics you could come up with
UPDATE: you should REALLY check out the notes on this one
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stevebabey · 9 months
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Dustin denotes his plan as a stroke of genius. Steve calls it fucking crazy.
It is crazy — going down to the police station and giving a completely faux alibi for Eddie is crazy.
But then, Steve recalls the handcuffs on the hospital bed, keeping him strapped in even though Eddie’s hardly in a state for escape, all bandages and wires. Steve remembers the fitful sleeps he’s witnessed when visiting, remembers Eddie’s ashamed whisper of fear that one of the officers would smother him in his sleep if no one stayed with him.
Steve remembers the bats. Remembers all the other shit Eddie got dragged through.
And if Steve can lessen that blow… well, then maybe he is crazy for going through with the plan.
There’s no prepping Eddie for it, of course, considering he’s being guarded around the clock. Steve thinks it’s ridiculous considering how feeble he feels just looking at Eddie. When he— when they had gotten him out, there was a moment where he was more blood than boy. Just jagged skin held together by Steve’s hands and sheer will.
He shivers involuntarily. This is crazy, Steve thinks, shifting a bit in the chair out the front of Eddie’s room, waiting for the discussion across the hall to meet its end. It’s crazy, but he’s already done it now.
Sharp footsteps sound across the hallway and Steve’s head yanks up. His heart beats too fast and he presses his palms down into his jeans to wipe them, standing up quickly.
“So?” He asks, eyes darting between Chief Powell and Deputy Callahan.
“That’s quite the alibi you’ve provided, Mr Harrington.” There’s a cool expression on Chief Powell’s face, giving away nothing. “One that not many would be so willing to give.”
Steve swallows. Presses down the panic tied to the implications of what he’s told them— him and Eddie. Him and Eddie together.
“We’d like to question Mr Munson a little as well, get everything settled. You know,” He makes a little gesture with his hand. “Make sure your stories line up.”
A new strain of panic jolts in Steve’s stomach and he hopes it doesn’t show on his face. Glancing over his shoulder, he peers between the blinds and tries to find Eddie’s face. He can only see the hospital bed, stark white sheets and hundreds of tubes. Steve tries to remember that he anticipated this, he prepared for this.
“Now?” He asks, turning back to face the officers. He tries to appear like his uneasiness comes from concern, instead of panic. “He’s just had another dose of morphine, I’m not sure how up to questions he’ll be.”
Chief Powell narrows his eyes. Steve silently begs him to take the bait — he doesn’t want to defer the questioning, he just needs a little more wiggle room in case Eddie is slow on the uptake. He’s a performer though. Steve hopes that’ll be enough to convince them.
“Now is best.”
Steve nods, his face grave. “I understand. Just… if he’s a bit slow, give him time to find his answers. He doesn’t know that I’ve… told you.”
Steve’s hand presses down on the handle to the room and the door opens with a hiss. He enters the room, his eyes landing on the officer posted by the door first before they travel onto the bed, to Eddie.
The chair beside the bed is empty for now which means Wayne must be off getting some food. Good, Steve thinks. This will be easiest with a smaller audience to convince.
Eddie’s eyes are closed, resting as best he can, but at the new noise they peek open. The ripple of happy emotion will help their case immensely but Steve delights in the fact that that reaction is genuine. Eddie is happy to see him.
“Big boy!” He rasps as a greeting. He waves one hand up, wires sticking out of it and the handcuff on it clinks uncomfortably, and he begins a spiel. “Welcome back to my humble—”
He cuts himself off when he sees there are other visitors today besides Steve. The heart monitor jumps and Eddie’s hand drops, eyes back onto Steve in an instant.
“What’s going on?”
Steve strides to his side, his hand reaching out to curl his fingers around Eddie’s limp hand. His skin is cool to touch, fingers icy. Surprise jumps onto Eddie’s face but his fingers tighten their grip, holding his hand too. Steve sits down in the seat beside the bed and lets the real nerves of the situation make his voice tremble when he speaks.
“I— I had to tell them, Eddie. About your real alibi.”
To his credit, Eddie only lets confusion wash over his face for a moment before it turns to some mixture of anger and sadness. A furrow forms between his brows, his grip on Steve’s hand tightening, and Steve doesn’t think he’s acting at all when he says, “You didn’t.”
Huh. Maybe he’s figured it out after all, Steve thinks.
Steve nods solemnly, letting his thumb wander over the back of Eddie’s hand. He remembers what it’s like to dote on girls, on Nancy, and find it’s not nearly as hard to bring it all out for Eddie either.
“I had to,” He murmurs, reaching a hand out to brush back some of Eddie’s hair. The heart monitor spikes again and Eddie’s cheeks glow pink.
Behind them, Chief Powell clears his throat and Steve jumps, remembering himself and what he’s trying to accomplish here.
“Excuse us, Mr. Munson, we have a few questions for you.”
There’s a moment where they let their words register and Eddie takes a deep breath, squeezing Steve’s hand and giving a little nod. Chief Powell continues.
“Mr. Harrington here has come forward with a statement that would place you elsewhere than the scene of the crime at the time of Miss Cunningham’s murder. Can you recall where you were that night?”
The mention of Chrissy’s name makes Eddie flinch and Steve’s glad he’s already holding his hand so he can squeeze it gently. Eddie’s gaze drops to their intertwined hands and stares hard for a moment. Shuffling puzzle pieces into place.
Steve leans down, presses a soft kiss to his bruised knuckles, and says “Tell them the truth.”
Eddie inhales sharply, steeling his nerves and turns his attention back to the officers. “I was with Steve. We were… we were at his house.”
Chief Powell nods, scratching words down in his notepad. He hums in a way that tells Eddie to keep going.
“We were…” Eddie trails off and looks to Steve, trying to follow the story already planted. Steve nods, hoping it comes off like he’s trying to be comforting boyfriend, instead of a subtle nudge.
“…Kissing.”
Steve resists the urge to snort at the absurdity of the whole situation. This whole thing is so convoluted and it’s twisted that Eddie’s even been accused but Steve’s putting his fuckin’ reputation on the line and Eddie says they’ve been kissing?
He doesn’t even need to turn around to know some eyebrows have raised behind him.
“Kissing?” Steve hears Chief Powell repeat. “Just… kissing?”
Eddie’s attention snaps forward again and Steve can see him piece together the snappy persona, the Freak, the scary dog privileges that come with being an outsider. He straightens up a bit, shoulders squaring but Steve can feel the quake in his hand.
“I’m sorry, did you want a play by play of the whole act, Chief Powell? I can go into detail if you want, who took who’s pants off first, yanno, but I didn’t peg you for that kinda guy.”
Steve can’t miss this reaction, turning his head to watch both officers shuffle uncomfortably on the spot. Chief Powell tries to keep his power, eyes narrowing, but it’s hard to maintain when Steve dots another quick kiss across Eddie’s knuckle.
“Very well.” He seems to land on. “We’ll be back to collect a formal statement later—”
Eddie gives a faint squeak, his hand grasping Steves that much tighter.
“—but I’m happy to have the guard and cuffs removed from your room for now.”
A sigh so large escapes Eddie that his chest deflates a good couple inches and Steve feels his own shoulders relax a bit. Chief Powell steps forward, key retrieved from his belt and Steve winces seeing the ring of irritated skin around Eddie’s wrist. No doubt caused from the thrashing of night terrors.
He releases Eddie’s hand long enough for it to be freed, scooping it back up in his as soon as he can, properly this time. All fingers intertwined, palm to palm. Eddie eyes their hands again and Steve pretends to not hear the jump in the heart monitor.
The officers leave, including the one holding post, the door sliding shut with a gentle click and Steve holds himself still— unsure of how to start explaining what he had sprung on Eddie. He feels bad, dropping him in the deep end, even if it was for his own good.
“Eddie—” He starts.
“Hug me.” Eddie hisses out the corner of his mouth. When Steve doesn’t react, he says it again, fiercer - it doesn’t match the way he’s smiling so sweetly at Steve. “Hug. Me.”
Steve does as he’s told, shooting up onto his feet and hesitating only for a moment before Eddie’s arms are creeping around his waist — he leans over and tries to keep his weight off him. Eddie’s frazzled curls tickle at his cheek and Steve just burrows his face in further.
There’s a faint whisper into his ear. “They were watching still.”
Steve pulls back a bit, not to check over his shoulder, but to see Eddie’s face. He’s serious, eyes skirting the window behind them but the moment Steve pulls back, his eyes shift down and he softens.
“And now… kiss me too?” He says. His tone conveys that he knows he’s being far too cheeky. Steve’s wonders if the officers are still watching. Wonders if he’d still kiss him even if they weren’t. He casts a glance over his shoulder and is met with a empty window, the officers retreating down the hall.
He turns back to Eddie with an incredulous expression. “What? Getting you off murder charges not good enough for you?”
Eddie’s face shutters for a moment, as though every emotion to do with Steve’s sacrifice floods him at once. There’s a burst of gratitude when he doesn’t mention it — doesn’t mention everything Steve might be giving up for Eddie, everything that might crumble should the details of the case become public.
He chooses the joke again. Eddie always does.
“Yes, but remember, we’re madly in love,” Eddie sings, brows wiggling about on his face and making Steve snort. “So feel free to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”
Steve snorts. “Duly noted, Munson.”
Eddie throws his head back softly against his pillow and pretends to wail in pain. “Munson? That’s all I am to you? That’s how you treat your boyfriend?”
Steve can’t help but grin a little at the theatrics and finds himself thinking that of all the people to be stuck pretending he’s dating, at least with Eddie, it’ll be enjoyable. Well, at least interesting. It will certainly be an experience.
“You have no idea how I treat my boyfriends, baby.” Steve says, voice low, just to see if he can get Eddie’s heart monitor to jump again. It does, a steady beeping as the BPM climbs up a few numbers.
Steve can feel the blush on Eddie’s cheeks, he’s so close, and it’s so nice to see colour on his face — such a stark comparison to the paleness of- well, of older memories.
Steve grins. Despite every nerve that feels singed beneath his skin, overworked from all his anxiety — despite considering every potential backlash that faces both them outside this room, outside the hospital, Steve searches within himself.
He can’t find one single ounce of regret.
next part.
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