#and instead of my brain thinking “oh sweet now i can have thing i want without having to make it myself”

[choccy-milky]

Okay so I read your entire fic in three days and I LOVE IT!? ITS SO GOOD!?! I am supposed to be studying for finals and instead have spent 72 hours definitely not doing that. I originally got into your fic because I saw your drawings from different scenes and OH MY GOD THEYRE AMAZING. The way you draw Seb makes me want to bang my head on the table (in the best way ever)…that boy does things to me. The whole thing is just uGHHH chefs kiss amazing work love it love you amazing

AWW TYY IM GLAD YOU LIKED IT SM (ENOUGH TO BINGE IT AND IGNORE SCHOOL) AND THAT YOU LIKE HOW I DRAW SEB TOO💖💖😍😍😍

LMAOO but fr as a procrastinator and horrible student myself, im pleased with this theme of interfering with ppls schoolwork/thesis/whatever else to read my fic...im dragging yall down with me...just stop using your brain and enjoy sexy seb aha😜 (ILY TOO GOOD LUCK ON UR FINALS)

@jstfndmthngs omg thank you for such a long and in depth ask i hope u dont mind i just screenshotted it and cut it into 2 BAHAHA but THANK YOUU im glad youre enjoying it so far!! 🥹💖AND YESSS BAHAHA IVE ALSO BRAINWASHED YOU TO SEE SEB AND CLORA WHEN YOU SEE A BLONDE + BROWN HAIR COUPLE mission accomplished😈😈 and I LOVE THAT YOU DAYDREAM ABOUT SEB AND CLORA TOO!!! people thinking about your fic/art when theyre not actively reading it is the highest honour fr...😭🙏 AND BAHAHA I REMEMBER THAT COMMENT THREAD ABOUT LEANDER AND HIS LITTLE GARDEN PATCH LMAO and him and seb competing as neighbors/dads over who has the better yard...LMAO im putting in my oneshot that leander lives close by, i might try and find a way to allude to that if i can LMAOO speaking of IM GLAD YOURE LOOKING FORWARD TO THE ONESHOT 💖💖 ive been working on the outline every day the past few days and its 24k words AND THATS JUST THE OUTLINE😭😭LIKE DAWG i was planning on this oneshot to just be short and sweet BAHAHA but i forgot im fluent in yappanese...then i just kept thinking of cute pregnancy moments i wanted to add so it spiralled....BUT ANYWAY I HOPE I CAN FINISH IT SOON!!🙏 also im so impressed you only read 1 chap of my fic a day BAHAHA i admire the self restraint bc i could never...but i feel you with wanting to make things last. LET ME KNOW WHEN YOU CATCH UP!!🥳AND TY AGAIN!!💖💖

omg anon this is diabolical...at first i was imagining it as seb being the one caught in the time loop and going crazy, but i actually think its better if its clora... because the idea of seb watching her slowly spiral into semi-insanity while knowing its bc of some weird time shenanigans and he doesnt know how to help would also make SEB go crazy BAHAHAH. i dont think ill ever write this but i just wanted to tell u i love this idea LOL

aw TYYYYY!!! i’m honoured u think so omg😭🥹💖 you sent this a while ago (before all of the recent family posting ive been doing) BAHAHA so i hope youre enjoying the kid content bc u manifested it girl🥰 and trust me i aint doing work for the fandom, the fandom is doing work for ME!!! by continuing to humour my brainrotted ass😔🙏

"they're my legal parents now" followed by "so anyway can you draw them going down on each other" LMFAOOOOO💀💀💀thank you i love you anon. and i HAVE been wanting to draw this for a while so YES!! i just cant guarantee when...but the day SHALL come rest assured🫡😇

[brammariek]

trying to learn something again when you failed the first time is so intimidating with ADHD and i fucking hate it. hate that I need to master something instantly or else my anxiety and my RSD just turns against myself. "you can't figure it out anyways to just fucking drop it you fucking dumbass, nobody is gonna wanna help you"

hey, brain? how about you stfu and let me enjoy things

[rebeccccccaaa]

Poker Face!

_______________

Spencer Reid x Reader

:: It’s game night at Rossi’s, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emily’s place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::

:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda you’re playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...

:: authors’ notes :: i didn’t realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, he’s literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3

WC~ 3.1 k

________________

“Ok, ok! That’s enough!” Emily shouted, swinging her glass around. 

“Careful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,” Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him. 

“You guys are relentless,” she continued.

“I can beat him, I know it!” you shouted, your eyes comically wide. 

“No shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?” Derek commented.

“I may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,” you argued.

“Honey, you’ve lost eight games in a row!” JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach. 

“Nevermind that! I’m gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.

“I hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but I’m kicking you out. It's late and an old man’s got to get some rest,” Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of ‘Boo’s’ and groans. 

“Come on, come on. Call your DD’s, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,” he bargained. 

Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles. 

“I assume you’re gonna take a cab?” he asked you.

“That’s the plan.”

“So we can share since I don’t live far from you. I’ll walk from your place,” he suggested. 

“Oh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,” you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, “We’re going to your place and finishing what we started.” 

“Oh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. We’re gonna be up all night!” Spencer laughed, and you gasped. 

“You’re an asshole,” you shoved him, before calling a taxi.

You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, you’ve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldn’t? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice. 

You walked into Spencer’s apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasn’t going to cheat. You knew he wasn’t, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked from the kitchen.

“Whatcha you got?” you asked.

“I’ve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,” he told you.

“Oh! Bring the wine! We’ll drink the beers later,” you winked at him, “Let’s get the fucking party started.”

It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times you’d lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldn’t stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope. 

“Ooh,” you cooed, mischievously.

“What?” Spencer questioned.

“Oh, nothing, just had an idea,” you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter. 

“This can’t be good,” he mumbled, shaking his head. 

“Why don’t we spice things up, shall we?”

“No, no way,” Spencer already knew what you were going to say. 

“Strip Poker!” 

“No!” he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.

“What, you scared? Scared that suddenly I’m starting to beat you and you’re gonna have to take all your clothes off?” you teased.

“No, I am a gentleman and I’m not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,” he argued sassily.

“You are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re just chicken.”

“Ok, fine then. You dealer, or am I?” he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup. 

“Why don’t you hit me this time,” you said. 

“You got it,” he responded, “Care to shuffle while I grab the beers?”

“Of course. About time we crack those open,” you smiled widely. 

Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldn’t help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesn’t know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe he’s always felt this way about you. 

Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent. 

Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.

But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didn’t know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer’s breath hitched. 

You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow. 

“What? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?”

“No,” he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again. 

“I swear to-” you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.

Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didn’t, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat. 

Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly. 

“We don’t have to keep going,” Spencer cleared his throat.

“And why would I do that?” Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can. 

“Ok, then,” he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.

Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and you’d hit blackjack, or you could build up; but that’s risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasn’t your fault he was distracted.

“Hit me,” you egged.

“You got it,” he responded. 

A five. Fuck. 

Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him. 

“One more time, boy wonder,” you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts. 

“I stand,” he mutters, probably knowing he lost. 

“Let’s see those cards, baby,” you teased.

“You first,” he told you, and placed your cards. 

“Blackjack, baby!” 

Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering. 

“I did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!” you shouted taunting him and he couldn’t help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment. 

“I- I was distracted,” he shuttered. 

“Damn right you were,” you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face. 

“It wasn’t fair game,” he bantered.

“It wasn’t fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and you’re being a sore loser,” you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue. 

Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath. 

“I told you, I was distracted,” he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear. 

“Blah, blah,” you whispered.

“Don’t give me that.”

“Now, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?” you whispered.

“What’s that?” he bantered.

“You lost.”

“Right, unfairly I might add,” he joked.

“If all you’re gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,” you told him. 

“Be my guest.”

Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.

“I thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,” he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.

“Like that’s gonna happen,” you rolled your eyes playfully. 

Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek. 

He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him. 

You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he told you.

“Let me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?” you taunted him.

“God, no. I couldn’t wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,” he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you. 

You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldn’t help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully. 

You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.

“Oh jeez, I feel like I could come already,” you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencer’s cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t realize you craved so much until this very moment. 

“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the same,” he chuckled breathlessly, “If you don’t start moving, I’m not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.”

You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencer’s hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and that’s when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencer’s small apartment. 

“Shit. You feel so good,” he breathed out, “I thought I’d last longer.”

“Please, please don’t come yet,” you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencer’s name dripped from your lips like honey. 

“Oh, that’s it,” Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that your’s wasn’t also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers. 

“I’m close, fuck I’m so close, Spence,” you whined.

“Let go, sweetheart.”

“Ngh!” you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the other’s breath and slowly you began to match each other’s erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencer’s one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you. 

When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you. 

“That was really good,” you giggled.

“It really was,” he agreed.

“I’m gonna tell everyone about this,” you whispered wickedly. 

“What?” Spencer questioned fearfully. 

“I beat you in Blackjack,” you reminded him, making him laugh loudly. 

“Give it a rest you would?” he sighed. 

“No way. I’m gonna tell everyone. And everyone’s gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,” you teased.

“Alright, you won fair and square,” he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.

You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever. 

[dumplingsjinson]

List of random dialogue prompts 

“I was never a morning person, but then I started waking up to your face and you know… Maybe mornings aren’t that bad, after all.” 

“Why are you mad?” “I’m not mad, I just think you can choose better people to kiss.” 

“I fucking hate you.” “No you don’t. Take that back right now.” 

“You know I’d do anything to have you stay by my side, right? Anything.”  

“Oh, fuck. Do that again.” 

“You look stupid as all hell right now.”

“I want to believe you, but I don’t know if I can.” 

“You’ve given me so many reasons to walk away.” “Then why don’t you walk away? It’s not like I’m keeping you hostage here.” “You still don’t get it, do you? It’s because I love you.” 

“…Damn it all to hell, if I don’t get to have you tonight then I’m never going to be able to have you.” 

“Let me call you mine, just for tonight.”

“I think you and I make an amazingly stupid pair.” “I know! Our two brain cells combined together make for quality entertainment and a unique kind of stupidity.” 

“I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

“Oh God, yes, right there— oh my God, just like that, please don’t stop.” “…Can you stop that? You’re making it sound like we’re in a porno and now I’m highly uncomfortable.” 

“Bet you they don’t make you sound like that, do they?” 

“Fuck, you’re such a wreck, and because of me, too.” 

“Can you stop moaning? I’m trying to help you relax but you’re making it hard for me to concentrate.” “Sorry, your hands just work a little too good.” “I’m going to pay for a masseuse next time if you keep doing this.” 

“You are driving me insane and I’m this close to losing my shit because of you.”

“Is hating me your only personality trait?”

“Never scare me like that again!” 

“Oh, don’t worry. I have every plan to make you submit to me.”

“I’m not even gonna lie, I’m just so fucking obsessed with you.” 

“That could be us.” “That is us.”

“Was it worth it?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you— slow down, you’ll get what you want soon enough.”

“I want you to remember every single second of this.” 

“Bet you they can’t make you feel the way I do.” “Bet’s on.” “Wait, what? That was not my intention—”

“Hm, but I think I like having you spread out like this. Such a gorgeous sight.” 

“Come and get your fix.”

“…You’re an addiction I never want to quit.” 

“I had nothing to live for, but then you came into my life. So thank you.” 

“Why’d you— why’d you do that?” “B-Because I promised you I’d do anything to keep you safe.” 

“I swear if we get caught then I’m actually going to kill you.” 

“You think I wanted this to happen?!”

“Just when I was about to give up…”

“I trusted you with my life.” “Well, I’m sorry but you’re clearly very gullible.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel the same as I do, then I’ll leave you alone.” 

“You know, maybe you should bet on something else the next time instead of betting on someone’s fucking feelings.” 

“You’re such a dork.” “Yeah, no wonder you’re so in love with me.”

“Does me doing all these things not account for anything?” “I never asked you to do those things for me, though, did I?”

“You nearly foiled our plan, you idiot!”

“I… I think I’m happy.” “You think? So you’re not one hundred percent certain?”

“Who’s laughing now?” “…Clearly not you. You’re crying, dear God.” 

“I’m tired of being on the sidelines.” 

“You actually came back.”

“Christ on a fucking bike, I could kiss you right now.”

“That was a bold move.”

“We’re going to be late, all because you couldn’t stop scrolling through that damn phone of yours while taking your damn sweet time to shit!” 

“Kinda sucks that I can only have you like this.” 

“I fell in love, so hard, and so fast, but a part of me knew it wasn’t going to last.” 

“Your heart’s always on your sleeve.” “Only around you, because you’re the only one who knows me so well. Too well, in fact.”  

(pt. 2) | (pt. 3)

[hawkinsbnbg]

Silver fox Steve meets fox hunter Eddie.

When Steve accepted the teaching position at IU, he didn't expect to stumble upon Eddie Munson–an enigma—who loved metal, who wore leathers with chains and rings, who always stood out with that wild mane, those attractive tattoos and devil-may-care attitude, and who had been trying to get into his pants for months now.

“Is this still a violation to the college’s policies, Professor?” Hot lips planted by his ears, strong hands held him down, stopped him from getting away.

“N– No,” Steve gasped and rolled his eyes back as Eddie hit that spot again. They had been at it for over an hour now, and Steve only had himself to blame for being weak-willed.

He had half a mind to worry about what his colleagues might say tomorrow about having seen him slink away with one of the graduates. But his head was rendered blank when those long calloused fingers wrapped around his neglected cock and started jerking it.

“Am I still too young for you, Professor?”

“Ye– Oh, god–” Steve writhed and slobbered as his sweet spots were battered again.

“Just Eddie is fine,” the younger man nipped the tip of his ear teasingly before setting up a brutal pace.

Steve couldn't even talk, he just fisted the sheet beneath him, overwhelmed and overstimulated. He was kind of appalled and thrilled by it all. Because sex had never felt so good to him before.

“Am I good enough for you, Professor?” Eddie asked, voice husky and gravelly with lust.

Steve dropped his mouth open to maybe form a proper word or breathe, he didn't know. His brain was too fucked out to remember why he had kept turning Eddie away in the first place.

The guy clearly knew how to plow. Fucking Christ.

He nodded blindly, moaning and losing his mind as Eddie hammered into his prostate as if wanting to knock his soul away.

He came with Eddie’s name on his tongue, twitching and clenching around the thick cock that pulsed inside him. He milked it for what it was worth, and lamented inwardly Eddie had filled the condom and not him.

Once the post-coital high finally passed, the clarity of the situation dawned on him. Steve didn't regret it, but he was mildly disappointed this was just a one-time thing.

Because of all people, he knew Eddie’s kind the best. Always curious, always eager to take on challenges. And who else was better to conquer than Professor Harrington who was known for being a rule stickler?

Except, tonight was the first time he let himself be swayed by those charming smiles and big impish eyes. Maybe it was old ages having mellowed him, or maybe it was loneliness wearing his guard down.

Either way, someone brilliant like Eddie would never stick around for a boring old man like Steve. Which was completely understandable. But it didn't hurt less to think he was just another pitstop in Eddie’s life. Easy to forget, easy to leave behind.

“Hope you haven’t gotten tired of me yet, Mr. Harrington,” Eddie returned from the bathroom with a washcloth in hands, looking far too chirpy in only a pair of black boxers and not at all as drained as Steve felt.

God, what a time to be reminded that he was too old for this.

Sitting against the headboard, Steve said nothing and just watched Eddie climb on the bed and kneel over to him. When he intended to take the washcloth, Eddie just grabbed his hand to kiss the back of it instead.

“Allow me to take care of my date,” the younger man said cheekily before proceeding to wipe him down with practiced ease.

“Your date, huh?” Steve snorted, laughing at himself for being so pathetic to perk up at that.

“Yeah, my date,” Eddie smiled softly, tone still light-hearted but eyes intense when they met his own. “We’re kinda doing it backward here but I can fix that.”

Jesus. Steve didn't think he knew what he was getting himself into. And still, he couldn't help but listen to his stupid heart, the one that was telling him to give Eddie a chance.

“How?”

“I know this place has really good tacos,” Eddie rested a hand on his bare thigh and stroked it slowly. “They also serve quite decent drinks and mean buffalo wings.”

“What if I say no?” Steve raised his eyebrow.

“Well, in that case,” Eddie deflated, looking like a kicked puppy as he braved on. “I’ll respect your decision and get out of your hair soon.”

Steve sighed, wishing pretty boys with big eyes weren't his weakness.

“Listen carefully,” he leveled Eddie with a serious look. “If you’re just looking for someone to fool around with, then I’m not the right person for you. But if you want to try for a real relationship, then we can do it together. And I’ll expect you to be fully committed. No polygamy or anything alike.”

Eddie grinned at him, dimpled and bright, before cupping his cheek and kissing the side of his mouth.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been committed to you since the first time we met. Been yours even before you noticed me.”

The fact that Steve could tell it was true made his heart flutter in his chest.

“Well then, Mr. Munson, I have no problem with you fixing our date tonight,” he turned his head slightly to press a chaste kiss on Eddie’s lips.

“So polite,” Eddie chuckled and kissed him again, but it was deeper and more tender this time.

Although Steve still couldn't quite believe Eddie would stick around, he decided to take the leap of faith anyway.

And many years later, when he glanced up from his newspaper to see Eddie showing him another new sweater for their dog, he knew he had made the right choice that night.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

₊˚ʚ Rain in the woods (Ford Pines x fem!reader) ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

part 3

author note: wow. oh. I can’t believe i finished this :')

this ridiculous, tender unhinged love letter to Ford (and to all of you) has been such a wild ride. tbh i started writing this fic as a half-joke, half-desperate need to get the scenario out of my head and now it’s grown into something so much more intimate than i ever imagined

to everyone who liked, reblogged, who wrote to me such wonderful sweet comments - i read every one and I love you more than Ford loves overthinking. seriously :) your support means everything, and I hope you'll like this final chapter. I’m so grateful for you all <3

ALSO sorry if there are a lot of kisses here….... ummm well I mean, you can't really blame me bc if Ford had let me, I would have just eaten him whole

nsfw, minors DNI

You don’t notice, but his hands are trembling when he reaches for the first aid kit he’d somehow already brought with him. Had he been planning this? Or maybe. . . he just couldn’t stay away, couldn’t bear the thought of you trying to deal with it on your own. 

Ford tries to maintain his usual level of calm composure, but the sight of your exposed thigh makes it so much harder than he anticipated. He feels so conflicted, his thoughts are somewhere between concern, desire and disgusting guilt. He’s a scientist, an explorer, a goddamned professional, not some pathetic old man fantasising about—

“This is going to sting,” Ford warns, trying to not look at your underwear along with your exposed body parts. He can’t be the one to make you uncomfortable now, not when you’re already in pain. “I’ll try to be quick, but it will hurt. I won’t push it, but. . . you need to stay still.”

He avoids meeting your wide, doe-like, scared, no, more like nervous eyes. Those eyes had undone him countless times before, always so trusting, so impossibly soft, curious, full of life. He dies every time when you look at him like that.

“Yes, okay,” you answer, though you’re not sure if it’s for him or for you. He pours the disinfectant into a cotton pad and just as he prepares to press it to your skin, you tense. “Ford, please. . . be gentle, okay?”

“I will, if it’s too much just tell me.” Ford still doesn’t dare meet your eyes, not when he knows his own will betray him. Instead, he focuses on the wound, on the crimson smear of blood that trickles down your skin. But it’s not that damn injury he wants to fix, it’s you, all of you. He wants to be needed by you, to be the one who makes you whole again. 

Ford prepares himself and trying his best, he gently presses the cotton pad to your skin what makes you gasp, oh, sweet mercy, that voice of yours. It’s all he can do to stop himself from leaning in and capturing your lips in tender kiss, getting between your legs and taking you right there. He keeps going, though, his big hands too careful, like you’re made of porcelain. He doesn’t want to hurt you, never, but he just wishes he could be inside you right now, show you how much he’s desperate for you.

“Ahh! Ford, h-hurts!” your fingers are gripping his wrist so tight, nails digging in, and fuck, he shouldn’t be thinking this. You are hurt, in pain, for god’s sake, but all he can see is you beneath him, making those same sounds for an entirely different reason as he makes love to you.

“Shh, I know, I know it does. I know, but you have to let me do this. If I don’t, the wound could get infected. Tetanus, sepsis are not things to take lightly.”

Goddamn, why he’s so close to places he shouldn’t even be thinking about. You’re laying there so beautiful, helpless, voice pleading with him to stop, it’s driving Ford crazy. His cock twitches in his pants and he hates himself for it, hates how his mind creates an image of you crying out his name like that, begging him to keep going instead of to stop. 

He feels the throb in his chest, but in his groin too.

“N-no more, fuck, ugh!” obviously it’s a plea for mercy, but to his traitorous brain, it sounds like—

Ford frowns, looking way too serious than usual as he tries to make his dirty thoughts go away, tries to focus on the wound and not the way your skin feels, but goddamn why are you so soft and warm and why he’s so damn close to you. And then his gaze betrays him, lowering down to the curve of your inner thigh, so close to where the hem of your panties teases him mercilessly.

“That’s enough, please!” you begin, biting down on your lip as the pain grows.

“Don’t move too much, it’ll hurt more,” Ford’s tone sounds rougher than he meant to. “I’m almost done.” 

She’s in pain, you disgusting old idiot. She’s fucking suffering and you’re—

“Please, stop!” 

Ford freezes, stiffening. That’s enough, you’d said, but it’s not, it’s fucking not. It’s never enough. Not your skin, not your voice, not the way you cling to him, not the way you beg, not the way you look at him.

The cotton pad is soaked now in your blood too, pressing too hard against your skin before Ford even realises it. You wince, gasping again and Ford can't help it anymore. His eyes drop to your panties, how they hug your body and his cock twitches in his pants.

He’s a grown man. He should be able to handle this. But all he can see is you, laid out before him like this, looking at him with those needy eyes, begging him to take you, to fuck you.

“Just sit sti—” before he finishes his sentence, he unintentionally presses the cotton harder into your wound, too lost in his own fantasies and the sharp burst of pain makes you hiss so you move involuntarily, your leg jerking straight into his crotch and—

You feel it.

Your foot accidentally brushes against something unmistakably hard. You didn’t mean to move that way, absolutely. But the second your limb drags against him, you feel it. The hardness beneath his pants. His body reacting to you. To this.

And neither of you move.

Ford is first to speak.

“I— I’m sorry,” he blurts. “It’s a natural physiological response. Adrenaline, heightened states of focus, they can trigger. . . well, unintended reactions. Nothing to do with— nothing to do with you.”

The sharp pain in your thigh momentarily forgotten. “Physiological response?” you repeat. “Ford, are you seriously trying to explain away your. . . uh, situation with biology?”

“It’s not what you think. It’s involuntary. Biological. A man’s body doesn’t always obey his mind. It doesn’t mean anything.”

He sounds so awkward, so flustered and you don’t know what to think. He’s not usually like this. . . well, not around you. Around you, he’s always so collected, always the smart, serious, intellectual Stanford Pines who wouldn’t bat an eye at anything that didn’t involve research.

You try to click pieces together, processing. He feels something for you. That’s the only explanation. He wouldn’t be this flustered, this desperate to excuse himself, if he didn’t.

And now you know. Ford’s just as human as the rest of us. And he wants you, too.

You move again, brushing your leg against him again and Ford wants to die because he makes the loudest surprised gasp in the room. “Doesn’t mean anything, huh?” you ask innocently. “so if I just move like this—” you press just a little firmer, feeling him growing harder. “it’s still just biology. Nothing to do with me at all?”

He’s silent.

“Ford, Is that. . . is that really how you feel?”

He sighs and darts his hand out to grip your leg to stop your teasing. “Don’t,” he warns, saying your name. His eyes meet yours for the first time all evening. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

His eyes stay locked on yours. You’re silent now too.

“Don’t— don’t look at me like that. You don’t understand. I. . . shouldn’t have let it go this far.”

But you do understand, more than he could ever realise.

“But why?” your foot slides all over his hard clothed length and Ford’s body responds with his needy cock twitching at your touch.

“This isn’t funny,” he bites out. “this isn’t a game. I’m not a young man, im not— I’m not what you need.”

“You don’t get to decide what I need, Ford.”

“But you’re too young—”

“Stop treating me like I’m some kid who doesn’t know what she wants. I’m an adult, Ford, an adult!”

“An adult?” he repeats, while your foot is still rubbing over his very obvious bulge. “an adult who can't even get dressed normally for the weather?”

You grin, leaning closer to his face. “uh-huh. And here you are, all worked up over me, right?” you press on his cock harder and Ford nearly finishes in his pants. 

He grabs your ankle, even though he doesn’t push you away.

“This. . . now this is inappropriate.”

You rolls your foot over his bulge what makes hips buck just slightly. You bite your lip, grinning at how badly he’s losing control.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite, you know that?” you lean closer and murmur into his mouth. “you’re so worried about what I can handle, but look at you. You’re the one who’s hard as rock right now, who can’t control himself.”

“Enough, I’m serious, stop.”

“Make me.”

That’s all it takes. It’s your smirk that gets him, your teasing voice, your dirty remarks, even as you’re sprawled out on the bed with that horrible wound on your thigh.

Ford is on you in a second. His mouth crashes against yours and you don’t even realise what’s happening yet. His kiss is messy and needy, like he’s trying to consume you whole. And you give yourself to him completely, your body melting into his. Every surprised gasp of yours is swallowed by him, his big hands gripping your face as he deepens the kiss. It’s so messy, the way Ford literally fucks your mouth with his tongue.

And you can’t help but tug at his clothes, dragging him closer until he’s on top of you. Ford’s weight presses into you and your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling at it as your body presses against his, your heart pounding so hard you swear he can hear it too. Ford is barely restraining himself from ripping off the rest of your clothes, that oversized T-shirt and panties, and fucking you right here, making all his fantasies come true, which he wrote down in his journal.

His mouth devours yours like he’s starved for you, his hands yanking you closer like he’s holding on for dear life. You let him claim you, let his kiss swallow every thought in your head until there’s nothing left but him, just him, him, him, him. You’re drunk on the way he feels. His hands are everywhere, pulling and tugging at you like he’s losing control. And oh god, you feel it.

You can’t get enough of it. You want more.

Ford is too lost so he lets six-fingered hand slip lower, brushing the side of your thigh and then it lands right where it shouldn’t.

Your fresh wound.

You gasp in pain, breaking the kiss.

“Damn,” Ford instantly pulls away, and his hand is next to your wound, concern and fear are visible on his face. “i’m sorry, i didn’t—”

“Fuck it,” you interrupt, pulling him closer. “worry about that later. I need you now. Please, Ford, just kiss me again.”

But looks like Ford is interested in your wound more than in kiss now.

He’s already inspecting the bandage, ignoring your begging, his brows furrowed with guilt. “i wasn’t thinking, im sorry, does it hurt? did i—”

Why men are so stupid, you think and grab his chin, forcing him to look at you, but he talks first.

“Let me—” he clears his throat, blinking before continuing. “no, let me bandage your leg. We need to, uh, stop the bleeding.”

“Ford,” you groan. “It’s fine. It’s not even that bad now.”

“Not that bad?” he looks you with a glare that’s somehow equal parts concern and anger. “that’s not how infections work, young lady. You could lose a limb if this festers.”

You groan in frustration, rolling your eyes, but he’s already kneeling in front of you. “This is really what you’re worried about right now?” you drawl, raising your brow.

“Yes, this is what I’m worried about.”

And here he is again, between your legs, his hands are still careful as they work, bandaging your inner thigh. Ford is trying so hard not to look at the very place he’s so devastatingly close to. He pulls the knot of the bandage just too tight what makes you let out the softest, unintentional moan.

“You— you cannot make noises like that right now. Stop making this harder than it already is.”

The corners of your lips curl and you lean back on your palms, unbothered. “Says the man who’s between my legs right now.”

“You got a point,” Ford lifts his brows as he clicks his tongue, shaking his head with a rueful grin. “clever girl.”

When he finally finishes tying off the bandage, he proudly looks at the work he done and pulls away, wait, pulls away? However, you don’t let him get far. Your hands drag him back down with a force that surprises him and maybe yourself.

The kiss you pull him into is anything but delicate. It’s urgent and hungry. Ford groans against you as if you’ve stolen the last bit of air he had left. Your fingers fist the fabric at his shoulders and when he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeps over your bottom lip. 

“Been waiting for this,” you confess between gasps. “Ford, I need you.” 

His forehead presses against yours. “You think I don’t? I’ve needed you. God, you have no idea. You drive me insane.”  

“Need you,” you breathe, arching up into him. “Ford, please. . . need you so bad.” he swallows your words with another passionate kiss, this one deeper, slower. His teeth catch your bottom lip, pulling a whimper from you that goes straight to his cock.

His lips trail lower, pressing kisses along the curve of your jaw, the slope of your neck. His teeth graze against your skin making you shiver because you feel like on damn fire, so sensitive for him.

“Ford, ah,” you breathe, tilting your head to give him more room as his kisses grow bolder, hungrier. He’s so desperate he can’t seem to stop himself, mouthing at your collarbone, your throat, anywhere he can reach while he mutters how beautiful you are.

Your hand trembles as it finds his, wrapping around his wrist and guiding him down. “Ford, please, touch me there,” you whimper against his lips now, spreading your thighs apart to make space. “need you. . . need your fingers, your hand, please.”

Ford hesitates at first, as if he doesn't fully believe what he sees in front of him, the object of his fantasies, his clever girl, which he wrote about in his journal, right beneath him, begging for his touch, for his love. It seems like his genius brain cannot comprehend what is happening yet.

Finally his hand moves, two fingers, one extra, rubbing you through the fabric of your panties and the sound that leaves your mouth sounds like a desperate needy sob. His forehead drops against yours as his fingers press against the dampness pooling there.

“You’re so wet,” Ford drags his thumb slowly over your clit. “is this all for me?”

“Yes, yes, all for you,” you gasp, writhing under his touch, bucking your hips up into his hand. “only you, Ford— fuck, just keep touching me, please, need more— need you. . .”

“I know,” he mutters, kissing you hard enough to steal the words from your tongue. “i know, sweetheart, i know.”

Ford’s fingers tugs your panties to the side and you both groan when he finally touches you bare. You squirm, swaying your hips to grind against his hand and he curses again, moving his lips to your neck, kissing and nipping as if he can’t stand being apart from you for even a second.

“Y-you’re driving me insane,” he breathes. “been dreaming about this, you have no idea, been wanting you for so long.”  

“Good,” you manage a weak smile, whimpering when he circles your clit with his thumb. You curl your nails into his shoulders. “then fucking do something about it.”

Stanford groans at your words, his cock twitches, begging to be taken care of, but his pleasure doesn’t matter now. You’re so hungry for his touch and Ford needs to touch you badly, so he slips his fingers through your folds, caressing you while still rubbing your clit in torturous circles. “like this? does this, does this feel good?”  

“Yes, yes, oh my god! more, more, give me more,” you cry when he sinks one finger into you, curling it just right.

“God, I wanna—” but he cuts himself off when his eyes notices that damn bandage on your leg.

“What?” you question and press a light kiss to his cheek, your eyes searching his face. “what do you want?” 

“You,” he admits. “I want to be inside you, want to feel you around me, want to, b-but you’re hurt, and I— fuck, I can’t, I can’t risk it.” 

You whine, your head falling back as his fingers keep moving, sliding in and out of your pussy, brushing against that spot that makes you see stars. “don’t care,” your thighs clenching around his hand. “i don’t care, just need you, need your cock— fuck, please!”

“Please, don’t say that, don’t say that when I can’t give it to you.”  

“Ford, please, I need it! I’ll be fine, I swear—”  

“No, you’re hurt, this is all i can give you right now. . . but i swear, I swear i’ll make it up to you, honey, when you’re better, when you’re not hurt, i’ll—” his fingers thrust deeper into your wetness with his thumb circling your clit in time and you interrupt him with loud cry.

“Ford! please, just don’t stop, please don’t stop—”

Ford nods and watches you. Letting his fingers curl inside you, penetrating deeper into your pussy. His movements growing more confident as your body reacts to him, your beautiful moans spurring him on. His lips find yours again and you both get lost in the kiss, in the way your breaths mix, in the way your bodies press together like you’re trying to fuse into one.

Your moan breaks into a cry as you arch your back, eyes closed tight when Ford’s fingers pumping into you faster, your spongy walls tightening around his digits. Oh fucking heaven, that extra finger feels too good. “Ford, please! oh, god— fuck, you’re gonna make me—”  

“That’s it,” Ford’s lips trail up to your ear, kissing and biting it as he presses his thumb on your sensitive bundle. “let me take care of you, sweetheart, cum for me.”  

His tone and praise is what sends you on edge as you clench around his fingers, moaning his name and cumming while his fingers, slower, but still thrusting into you. You feel so weak and tired, but your Ford is right there to catch you, whispering soft praises into your hair as you shake in his arms.

Ford’s fingers still buried deep inside you as he watches you come down from your high. And it’s so obvious that he putted your needs before his own because his cock, hard as a rock now, strains against the fabric of his pants, creating the most painful bulge you ever seen. He shifts awkwardly, hoping maybe you won’t notice but you do. Oh, you do.

“Ford,” your voice sounds honeyed as you regain your strength. Your gaze drops pointedly to the tent in his pants. “you’re. . . so hard.”

His face flushes and he tries to pull away, to create some distance between you, but you grab his wrist, stopping him.

“Don’t,” you whisper softly. “don’t hide from me. you’ve been so good to me, let me. . . let me do something for you.”

“No,” he says quickly. “you’re hurt. I can’t, you need to rest.”

“Just look at you, you’re aching. You don’t have to do anything to me, just let me help.”

“Oh my god,” he says your name as if ready to scold you. “you’re impossible, you know,” but his shaky hands move to his belt anyway, unsure, like he’s warring with himself even as he undoes it.

“Yeah?” you lean back. “you’re about to jerk off in front of me, Ford, what does that make you?”

Ford cant find any smart or logical response to that because you’re absolutely right, he’s the mess here, the impossible one, the desperate old man. He takes a breath, finally pulling his cock free and fuck, he’s so hard as if he’s going to explode, the head flushed and leaking.

Ford’s cock is already in his hand, the first strokes making him whimper under his breath. His other hand rests on your thigh, fingers nervously flex like he’s desperate to touch more of you, to hold you, to worship you properly like his clever girl deserves, but he’s so lost in this intimate moment, in you, that he can barely think straight.

You’re watching him, trying to control yourself because if you won’t, you might just jump on him and you can't vouch for yourself. 

You’re sprawled out in front of him like a dream come to life: t-shirt rucked up, legs spread, panties pushed to the side, leaving your pretty glistening pussy on full display for his starved gaze. Fuck, you look so hot like that, from everything he’s already done to you. He’s trying not to stare and you think he’s so silly when it’s specially show made only for him, so you shift your hips just enough to catch his attention, drawing his eyes like a magnet.

“Touch yourself for me. Show me how much you want me.” your eyes locked on him, drinking in the sight of his hand moving over his length.

Ford’s chest heaves, his hand grips his cock, which is twitching and flushed an angry red at the tip. But looks like poor old man can’t even jerk himself off properly, so you reach your hand out to brush against his wrist.

“Here,” you purr, guiding his hand with your smaller one, wrapping your fingers around his, forcing him to stroke himself teasingly. At that, Ford’s hips jerk up into your shared grip, and you hum approvingly, watching as his lips part in a groan. “yes, like this, honey. Let me help you.” 

“S-sweetheart. . . you don’t— ah— you don’t have to—”

“But I want to,” you lean back against the bed, shifting your hips, making sure he has the perfect view of your soaked, glistening slit. “Don’t hold back, i want you to feel good.”

Ford lets himself get a bit more vocal as he groans, his hips buck into your joined hands and his cock twitches against your palm. He’s so fucking hard, leaking against your skin, and the sounds he makes as he strokes himself are too good to be true, yet here he is, in front of you, jerking himself off, moaning your name. 

“You. . . o-oh god, sweetheart, you’re incredible,” he whines as you guide his hand again, showing him exactly how to squeeze, how to work himself the way you know he needs it. Meanwhile his other hand braces against the mattress near your head, his knuckles white as he struggles to keep himself together.  

“You’re so big, Ford,” your eyes glued to his dick, watching every move with hungry fascination. “you’re so handsome, so beautiful. I could look at you all night.”

He groans at your praise, more pathetic this time, his forehead dropping forward as he stares at where your bodies almost meet. “Christ, you’re gonna ruin me, love.” that’s when his strokes falter for and you take over completely, your warm hand wrapping around his length and pumping him up and down.

“Keep going,” you urge, feeling yourself getting wetter too. “i can’t stop thinking about how good you’d feel inside me. id take all of you, id make you feel so good, Ford. I need you, all of you.” soft whisper into his lips while all Ford can do is fuck your hand pathetically, your thumb sweeping over his tip, smearing the slick there.

Ford digs his fingers into your thigh, trembling. “Don’t— oh god, don’t say that,” he gasps. His eyes are locked on your opening, on the way your arousal glistens, your folds so wet and swollen and inviting.

“Don’t you want to touch me? Don’t you want to feel how wet i am for you?”

“God, I do,” he breathes as his hand joins again, moving together with yours, faster, jerking himself off faster. “I want you so much it hurts. I’d do anything. . . anything for you.”

“Then come for me,” you whisper, reaching out to thread your fingers into his hair when you kiss the corners of his parted trembling lips.

“I can’t— oh god, sweetheart, I can’t hold on much longer.” thick ropes of his cum spills across your thighs and even stomach, marking your skin as he makes a mess of himself. His hot seed drips down over your hand where you keep stroking and caressing him, milking every last drop forcing whines and mewls from him.

He collapses forward after and buries his face against your shoulder. 

“I need you so badly,” he murmurs into your skin. “you don’t know how much I want you. You don’t know what you do to me.”

You hum softly, threading your fingers through his damp hair as you press a tender kiss on his forehead.

***

It’s morning and sweet scent of batter and syrup fills the air. The noise and conversations are coming from the kitchen and there’s only one explanation for the chaos: Stanley is cooking “stancakes.”  

You’re by his side, propped against the counter, balancing on your good leg, watching Stan cook. Spatula in one hand, the other parked on his hip and he radiates confidence, as if he is ready to host his own cooking show.

“Now listen up, kid,” he says in a voice full of pride. “these are world-famous stancakes. they’ve been called ‘edible’ by at least two people, well, three, if you don’t count the pig.”  

“Oh.”  

“Oh” he repeats, incredulous, spinning to face you with mock offense. “don’t tell me you’ve never had stancakes before?!”  

You grin, shaking your head. “not once. I think Ford’s been keeping them all to himself.”  

Stan looks like you’ve just offended him.  

“That’s practically a felony in this house! what, Ford never mentioned ‘em? selfish bastard.”  

You laugh softly.

“but i gotta ask,” Stan continues. “any allergies to elbow grease? or, uh, whatever was at the bottom of the flour jar. pretty sure it was flour. maybe. . .” he winks and you roll your eyes, however the conversation continues good and friendly between you. 

Your hand rests on the counter for balance and you look down, at the faint tug of the bandage around your leg, which works as reminder of the night before. Memories of Ford’s hands, his mouth, the way he moaned your name, how he touched you, heat your cheeks until you force yourself to focus on Stan.  

His spatula waves in your direction again. “so, what’s the story with yer leg? take a tumble down the stairs, or was it somethin’ spooky out there in the woods?”  

You give him a wide smile. “let’s just say it’s a story. remind me to tell you later.”

Stan raises a brow curiously, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he turns back to his stancakes with a grunt. “hmph, fair enough. just glad you didn’t end up worse. Y’know, if ya ever need lessons on landing on yer feet—”  

Before he can finish, his brother steps into the room and you immediately turn your gaze to him. Honestly, he looks like he’s spent the entire night replaying everything. 

“Ah, there you are,” Ford murmurs when his gaze finds you, then he clears his throat and nods to his twin. “good morning, Stanley.”  

Stan doesn’t miss a beat, gesturing with his spatula. “yeah, mornin’, sixer. Yer just in time for the best damn pancakes this side of the multiverse.”  

At that, Ford’s lips curve into a polite smile as he glances at his brother. “that’s good to hear.” then his focus changes, locking entirely on you. His intonation changes into something warmer as he speaks your name. “would you mind if i borrowed you for a moment? just for a quick talk.”  

You nod a little too eagerly. “sure, of course.”  

Stanley lets out a dramatic sigh, waving his spatula at Ford. “don’t keep her too long, poindexter. She’s gotta try these pancakes before they go cold!” 

Ford leads you to his study and you follow, heart thundering in your chest. You’re grinning like an idiot, barely containing your excitement. He’s finally going to say something, but you’re so fucking ready to hear, to discuss, to scream the loudest “YES” when he’ll ask you to be his girlfriend.

When the door clicks shut behind you, he turns and you finally see his face. He’s always so serious, just like right now. But what did you wait? It’s Ford Pines, it’s his normal state. However, you’re so excited you sure he can see the way you’re literally glowing.

You really try to act casual, but inside, you’re absolutely going insane, nervous, happy, excited at the same time. Last night still feels like a fever dream, you can feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the heat of his body against yours, the way his fingers slid so perfectly into you. . . 

And now he’s here, just the two of you, and you’re hoping he’ll finally acknowledge the thing that happened between you.

But then he opens his mouth.

“So, about the anomaly. . .” he begins and the words hit you like a slap.  

No, no. No no no. Are you hearing this right?That’s what he’s leading with?! After everything that happened last night, he’s just. . . no, he’s talking about the damn anomaly like he didn’t just leave you trembling with the memory of his fingers inside you. 

Your smile falters fucking immediately, your shoulders stiffening as he goes on, completely oblivious to the storm of disappointment brewing inside you.  

“I’ve been reviewing the notes I took last week. If my calculations are correct, the creature’s molecular structure—”

What the actual fuck.

Your jaw clenches. You stare at him, thinking it’s some kind of joke. He’s talking about science. Fucking science. After everything that happened, this is what he wants to talk about? He’s here, rambling about molecules and rain like none of it ever happened.  

You can’t stand it. The frustration takes over you.

“Ford,” you hiss as you shove him back against the wall.

His eyes widen in surprise, but you don’t let him speak. You press your palms flat against his chest, pinning him there, your voice shaking with anger. All you can think about is how he’s standing there like some fucking genius, talking about molecules and data when last night, you’d literally devoured each other.  

“Are you kidding me? This is what you wanted to talk about? You’re seriously standing here, talking about anomalies and notes like last night didn’t fucking happen?”

For a second, he just looks at you, his face calm and that makes you practically vibrate with rage, the intensity of your emotions making your head spin.  

And then. . . he smirks.  

The bastard smirks.

“I wasn’t aware we had plans to debrief, sweetheart,” your fingers tighten against his chest and he raises a brow, clearly amused by your reaction. “Though I must admit, you’re surprisingly strong for someone with an injured leg. Should I be worried?”

Your face burns as you glare up at him. “Ford, don’t you dare—”

“Well?” his gaze piercing through you. “What is it you want me to say, sweetheart?”

His fucking teasing is driving you crazy.  

“Are you seriously just gonna pretend like it didn’t happen? That you didn’t— god, Ford—"

“Pretend? Oh, but don’t get ahead of yourself.

I think you’ve got a lot more to say about what happened than you’re letting on, huh?”

Your cheeks burn hotter than they ever have before. You didn’t expect that. You really didn’t.

“Are you seriously gonna tease me about last night? You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, but you’re so worked up now that you don’t even care. You push yourself closer, getting right up in his space, your chest touching his, and now you’re just fuming.

“I’m the one who teases you? Interesting. . .” he leans to your face, brushing his lips against your ear. “What else did I do to you that made you so worked up last night? I didn’t think I was that good with my hands.”

“You bastard.” you hiss as you pin him against the wall harder.

He tilts his head at your words. “Careful, love, I wouldn’t want you to strain that leg of yours again. Especially not after I spent so much time taking care of you last night.”

Your breath catches in your throat. The nerve of this man! You want to slap him, to push him away, but instead, you pull him closer

“You better watch yourself, Ford.” You give him a dangerous smile. “You think you can just pay with me like this? You’re not as clever as you think.”

Ford’s smirk widens. “Oh? You think you’ve got the upper hand? I’ve got you pinned right where I want you, sweetheart.”

And then his hand trails down your arm to your waist. 

“And if you’re still mad, I can think of a few ways to work out that frustration.”

Your body goes cold and hot all at once, and it takes everything in you not to melt into him. 

Ford is still against the wall where you pushed him, calm as ever, obviously enjoying every second of this, he thinks he’s the one in control.  

Your pulse hammers in your ears, your hands trembling against the chest of his sweater. He’s so warm, and god, you hate that even now, even while you’re mad at him, you can’t stop remembering the way he looked last night. The way he sounded when he let himself fall apart under your touch. 

“You’re insufferable. Worse than Stan.”

“Am I? Because from where I’m standing, you’re the one pinning me to a wall. Quite forcefully, might I add. It’s a little ironic, don’t you think? Considering how you were. . . what’s the term? Begging for me last night?”

Your jaw drops.  

“Begging? You think I was begging for you?”

Ford looks entirely too pleased with himself. “Well, I seem to recall a certain. . . eagerness on your part. Particularly when—”

“You don’t get to talk about my eagerness.” you cut him off, your cheeks flaming. “Not when you were the one moaning my name like your life depended on it.”

That shuts him up.

His smirk falters slightly, and you see the faintest hint of red creeping up his neck. Oh. Oh. Fucking finally. You’ve got him now.  

“That’s right. Stanford Pines, world-renowned genius, reduced to a trembling mess because I—” and to kill him for sure, you lean in to whisper into his lips. “jerked you off.”

Ford goes completely still.  

There’s nothing but silence. His genius mind working, his lips parting slightly like he wants to say something, but no words come out. His face is a mess of conflicting emotions, embarrassment, frustration and something you can’t quite place but looks suspiciously like agreement.

“Got nothing to say now, huh?” you tease, grinning like an absolute maniac. “What happened to all that confidence, Professor?”

“Well played.”

***

Life at the mystery shack doesn’t feel much different, not outwardly. Stan still grumbles about the bills, the tourists still gawk at the exhibits, and Ford. . . Ford is still Ford, except now he’s yours.  

Yours.  

The nights are quieter between you both, more intimate, full of moans and groans, petting and foreplay. Like last night, when his clever hands had slipped beneath the waistband of your pajama pants, his soft and needy voice told you he wanted to make you feel good.  

God, he did. You’d come on his fingers so good, trembling as he whispered your name and called you his good girl, while kissing your cheeks, wiping your tears of pleasure away. And he’d let you touch him too while your hand worked up and down on his pulsing cock and then he spilled against your skin, while you silenced him with a kiss.

No, it actually feels good, really. It’s better than nothing, than not touching him at all, but. . . you crave, you need something else. Something that is not just his fingers, mouth, or hands.

Ford is so careful, so cautious about your stupid leg, his gentle excuses about your injury making you want to scream into a pillow. Like, yeah, it still hurts sometimes, but you can walk, run, pin him against a wall, fuck him six ways to sunday if he’d just let you.  

Ford has his own fears, even if he won’t admit them outright.

But you’re not afraid. 

The woods, your anomaly huntings, are different now too. More dangerous, you’d say. 

You’re pressed against a tree as Ford’s mouth claims yours. His hands are everywhere, gripping your waist, sliding up under your clothes, pulling you closer, closer, like he can’t get enough.  

“Ford, aah, please,” you whimper, pulling him down to kiss you deeper. His knee nudges between your thighs, pressing against you and you swear you’re about to melt into a puddle right there in the dirt.  

“Quiet, sweetheart, don’t want the whole forest knowing how desperate you are for me.”  

But it’s him. . . it’s fucking him who’s desperate, dropping to his knees to pull your pants down just enough, fingers slipping into your panties to find you already soaking.  

“So wet already, holy multiverse,” and then his fingers are inside your pussy as he presses kisses to your thighs and stomach.

But you need to touch him too. Your hands are on him again, tugging at his belt, fumbling with the button of his pants. His cock is hard when you pull him free and you stroke him until he’s shaking, gasping against your neck.  

“My love, i’m gonna—” his hips jerks into your hand as he cums, splashing his hot and thick seed all over your fingers. But he doesn’t stop,  his own six fingered hand working you until you finish with a strangled cry, pussy clenching around him as you nearly fall, when he catches you, whispering how beautiful you are.

You both collapse against each other, sticky and hot, despite coldness of autumn, grinning like idiots. And then Ford leans in to kiss you again, like he’s already planning the next round.  

At dinner, it’s you who starts it.  

Your leg brushes his teasingly under the table that has him choking on his water. Stanley doesn’t notice, too busy ranting about some tourist who tried to haggle over a snow globe, but Ford shoots you a warning look.

You just smile sweetly while also agreeing with Stan about his tourist speech as you press your foot higher until you’re brushing against the hard line of his length beneath the table.  

The lab is worse.

He’s sitting at his desk, scribbling in his journal with you perched on his lap, your arms around his shoulders, your hips rocking against his as you kiss the side of his neck.  

“You’re distracting me,” says fucking Ford with his hands on your hips, guiding your movements as his already hard cock strains against his pants.  

“Good,” you kiss his cheek, grinding down harder, feeling him twitching beneath you.

But every time you try to push it further, every time you reach for him, ask for more, he stops you.  

“Your leg,” but it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself as much as you.  

“But i’m fine—”  

“No,” he interrupts, shaking his head. “i’m not risking it, not yet.”  

***

The November crisp air bites at your skin. The faint smoky warmth of the fire crackling in the yard. Well. . . It was Stanley's idea to do this, he said something about rekindling childhood memories, family bonding and roasting marshmallows like it was summer camp, but he's not here. Something about a "quick run to the diner for pie" turned into him being away for whole evening, leaving you and Ford alone under a shining starry sky.

“You know, for a guy with six fingers, you’re surprisingly bad at this,” you tease, leaning back on your hands as you watch Stanford squint at the marshmallow impaled on his skewer. It's already starting to charred, the edges curling into blackened flakes as the fire devours it. “do they not teach you how to roast marshmallows in the multiverse, professor?”

Ford chuckles softly at your words. “Oh, excuse me, but i’ll have you know i’ve mastered much more complex techniques than this primitive. . .” the marshmallow slides clean off the stick and lands with a soft plop into the embers. Ford stares at it, annoyed. “cooking method.”

You can’t help how cute he looks so you laugh. “You’re hopeless,” you brush your shoulder against his, smiling. “here, let me show you.” Ford nods, handing you the stick. “first rule,” you skewer a new marshmallow. “don’t hold it so close to the flame. you want it golden, not a cremation. You’ve gotta keep it turning. Patiently, like this.” you rotate the stick slowly and Ford actually watches, his gaze is not on the fire, but on you. 

“i see,” he says thoughtfully. “golden, not charred.”

“Exactly,” you let marshmallow toast evenly. “you just have to—” you glance up to check on him and Ford’s still watching you. It steals the breath from your lungs and you gulp awkwardly. “. . . focus,” you finish a little quieter. “why you’re looking at me like that?” you smile.

Ford laughs. “maybe in some universe, you do dress appropriately for the weather?” 

You blink at him, thrown off for a second, before realising. Oh. . . oh, right. Your teeth chatter slightly, fingers cold and you’re shaking slightly, it’s so obvious. “i guess no?”

Ford doesn’t even dignify that with a response. Instead, he’s already shrugging out of his coat and draping it over your shoulders before you can protest, but it’s not like you wanted to anyways. His trench coat is heavy and smells just like him and your smile couldn't get any wider.

“Thanks, again. . . heh,” you try to sound nonchalant, but the coat is still warm from him and you clutch it around you tighter.

“So, you were saying?” Stanford prompts, tilting his head toward the marshmallow in your hand.

You clear your throat. “Right, uh, where was i? oh, yeah. so, you’ll know it’s ready when it’s this perfect golden brown all over, not a single—”  

“Give me a kiss,” Ford says suddenly, interrupting you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You’re not sure who leans in first. You, probably, but he meets you halfway. Ford’s lips are warm, so soft against yours. Your heart stutters in your chest as blood rushes in your ears, one of his hands comes up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing feather-light against your cheek. Your hands find his chest, fingertips pressing into his sweater as you you sigh into him.

The kiss deepens, not hurried, but like you’ve both waited far too long for this moment. Ford leans into your touch like he’s been craving it just as much as you. 

When you finally pull back, he rests his forehead against yours and none of you speak, both quiet and only fire is crackling softly beside you.  

“I think i might be terrible at marshmallows.” Ford smiles shyly.

You blink at him, you lips still tingling from the kiss, your head feeling too light to even process his words at first. Oh god the whole moment so tender, so beautiful, so intimate it almost makes you want to cry. 

“Ford,” and he hums softly in response.

“Hmm?”

“Give me another.”

Ford doesn’t need to be told twice.  

This time, it’s you who closes the distance, but his lips crash into yours like he’s been waiting, holding himself back and now he simply can’t. His hand slides to the back of your neck as the kiss deepens, hotter, hungrier. You sigh into his mouth, your knees going weak beneath you, but Ford steadies you, holds you.

His coat slips off one of your shoulders as your arms wind around his neck, pulling him closer, closer, closer until there’s no space left, and even then, it doesn’t feel close enough.  

“Ford—” you manage to groan against his lips and he pulls back just slightly.

“What is it?” the way he’s looking at you, fuck, like he’s already undressing you in his mind, makes you feel dizzy.  

You pause, staring at him, at the mess of his hair, the faint flush dusting his cheeks, the way his lips are already red from kissing you. This man. This ridiculous, brilliant, beautiful man.  

“My leg,” you feel nervous out of sudden, afraid he might reject you again. “it’s— it’s healed now, you know. . . i can— i can handle more.”  

Ford freezes, thinking. And then. . . Oh.

He kisses you again, but this time it’s different, this time, there’s no holding back, no careful hesitation.

"Inside," your voice is trembling with anticipation. "please, Ford, let’s go inside."  

And god help you both, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to say no. 

***

Ford’s whole body is pressing you into the mattress as though he’s trying to meld you both into one. His hands grip the sheets beside your head and he’s so warm against you. He kisses you messily and desperately, too eager.

“Ford, please,” you whimper, lifting your hips and grinding up against his hard, pulsing length.

“Yes, Ive got you, I’ve got you,” his own voice trembling as one hand dives down, gripping your hip, trying to keep you still but failing miserably because he can’t stop himself from rutting into you. “im right here, my love, i’m gonna take care of you.” the bed creaks beneath the weight of both of you, but neither of you can hear it over the needy moans you two share.

You can’t stop the high pitched whine that escapes you as his knee slots between your thighs, pressing against you just right and you swear you’re losing your fucking mind. “Nngh, Ford, Ford, please,” your voice so fucking needy it feels embarrassing. 

Ford stops, just for a second, pulling back to take a good look at you. His eyes are blown wide, pupils black as they devour every little expression you make. “tell me, tell me what you need.”  

You nearly cry. “touch me,” you plead.

“Oh sweetheart, my good girl,” his trembling fingers brush the hem of your clothes, slipping underneath to glide against your skin, being so careful like you’re too delicate, too fragile for him, he’s afraid you’ll shatter if he’s not gentle. “i’m not going anywhere,” he promises, dragging his lips down your jaw, going lower to the sensitive skin of your neck. “i love you so much.” and before you can even think to respond, his mouth is on yours again, swallowing your moans because he’s desperate to consume every single piece of you. 

Oh, sweet fucking hell, you think when Ford lowers himself between your thighs looking like a man on his knees at an altar and you’re the goddess he’s about to worship. He spreads your legs wide, his six-fingered hands curling into the plush of your thighs and he just stares for a moment like he’s seeing heaven itself. His lips part, and his tongue darts out to wet them, the hunger in his gaze as if he can’t believe this is real.  

"My love," he groans. "so pretty, you’re so pretty. . . this is all mine, isn’t it? tell me, sweetheart, say it, say it’s all for me."  

“It’s yours, Ford,” you melt under his gaze, feeling so exposed and he hums in approval. 

“Good girl,” and then he dips his head down, brushing his lips against your inner thigh, kissing your healed wound. 

You grow impatient with every second, and fucking finally, he’s right here, his face hovering over your throbbing pussy which needs his attention so bad, and he takes a deep breath. 

Ford presses a kiss just above where you’re all wet and your hips jolt, seeking more.

“F-Ford! fuuck. . . fuck fuck fuck!” 

“Shh, just like that, i’ll take care of you,” he presses one hand firmly on your pelvis to keep you still. “just relax, darling, let me have you.”

You’re too far gone to even respond coherently, only letting out pathetic whimper as he drags his lips lower and lower until his warm mouth hovers right over your soaked folds.

His tongue presses flat against your pussy, slowly and oh fuck, you taste so damn sweet, Ford growls and that vibrates straight through you. “oh, god," he pants, pulling back before diving in again, "you taste. . . you taste so good, so sweet, like you were made for me." Ford’s voice muffled against you as his tongue flattens, dragging through your slick, tasting you. 

His hands grip your thighs tighter to hold your squirming body in place as he tilts his head to get a better angle. His lips seal around your puffy clit, sucking gently at first, then harder when your hips jerk up into his face. He holds you open because he’s not letting you go anywhere, his tongue flicks over that sensitive bundle of nerves until you’re sobbing his name.  

“Ford. . . oh god! Ford, too much—!” 

You’re trembling and panting as his tongue circles your little clit in soft lazy strokes that have your back arching off the mattress. You fist your fingers into the sheets as his lips seal around your sensitive clit, sucking gently before releasing you with a soft, wet pop.

“Taste so good,” Ford says more than all to himself. He licks into you now, dragging his wet tongue through your soft folds, lapping up everything you’re giving him like a man possessed. “g-give me more, darling, please. . . i need more of you.”

“Ford, Ford! Ford, i—” you buck your hips against his face as the wet sounds of his mouth on you fill the room.

“Mmhm, that’s it, sweetheart,” his voice muffled against your cunt as his lips brushes your clit, letting his fingers slide lower to tease your dripping entrance. “just let me make you feel good.”

Ford pulls back just enough to gasp for air, his lips and chin shiny with your slick and you swear he looks drunk, eyes glassy and pupils blown wide. “you taste so good,” he groans, diving back in immediately, never having enough, moving his mouth against you like he’s kissing you there, sloppily, noisily and so damn messy.

You’re not damn ready for what comes next. When his fingers finally slip inside, you nearly scream, two of them, then three with his extra middle one sliding into your soaked pussy, while another circles your clit, working in perfect tandem with his tongue. "so tight, so wet for me," his voice muffled as he sucks your clit into his mouth again. "give it to me, sweetheart. . . let me have it, be a good girl for me, yeah?"  

His pace quickens as your walls flutter around his fingers. But he doesn’t stop, not even when you’re writhing and tears streaming down your cheeks from the pleasure. He licks, sucks and slurps at you, addicted to the way you taste, the way you feel. “Ford, I’m gonna cum—”  

You cry out and jerk your hips against his face as you do. He growls, gripping you tighter, holding you still as his mouth moves faster, hungrier. Your walls spasming around his long fingers, your clit pulsing between his lips.

But Ford’s mouth doesn’t lift and doesn’t slow, even when your thighs tremble and your fingers push weakly at his hair to tug him away.

“No, Ford, please,” you gasp as he sucks your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue against it in slow circles. “i-i can’t— too much. . . im sensitive, Ford—”  

But he doesn’t give a fuck, his grip tightens on your thighs to keep them spread wide. “Just one more, sweetheart,” his words slurred, drunk off the taste of you. “please-please, i need. . . one more, just one more for me.”  

You can’t hold back the loud cry that escapes you as his tongue dives back in, licking and lapping. Your legs jerk, trying to close, but his strong hands keep them locked open. “don’t fight me, let me, let me have you.”

“Ford, oh god—” your voice is broken as his tongue works all over your pussy, it’s overwhelming and unbearable, your entire body feels like a live wire as he devours you, never giving you a moment to recover.  

“that’s it, love, cum for me, please. . . be a good girl and cum on my face.”  

And you do again, god, you do, because there’s no stopping it. Your orgasm crashes over you again, ripping a scream from your throat as your back arches off the bed. Your vision whites out, your mind blank as your release floods through you.  

Ford moans into you as you come, his mouth latched onto your clit, his tongue lapping up every drop. When you start caressing his hair as if thanking him, he presses wet sloppy kisses to your trembling thighs. 

You’re still shaking and gasping for air, when he finally lifts his head, his chin glistening as he stares down at you and smiles. But you still can’t have enough, not satisfied, not when he haven’t been inside you and fucked you properly, you’ve been craving this for months and you totally go for it now. “Please, need you, Ford, please, i need you inside me.”  

He doesn’t even make any excuses this time when he kneels between your legs, his cock flushed and throbbing, the head slick with pearls of precum. “you sure?” is all he asks as his hands come up to cradle your hips.

“Yes, god, yes,” you plead, spreading your legs wider, your eyes glazed with need. “please, i can’t wait anymore! i need you.”  

He knows you do because he’s in absolutely same state as you, needy and desperate to fuck you, that’s why he’s pressing into you, the thick head of his cock stretching you open and you both moan loudly when he slides deeper, his girth filling you.

Ford is trembling above you, sweat slicking his brow as he inches himself inside carefully, terrified he might hurt you or worse, lose control. But you’re ready, so ready, your nails digging into his shoulders, “more, please, i can take it.”

Ford’s hips stutter as he bottoms out, his cock buried to the hilt. “Y-you’re so tight, sweetheart, so damn tight. i don’t— don’t know if i can move. . . feels too good. . . god, you’re perfect.”  

You’re no better because your walls clench around him and your voice so high and breathless as you cry, “so full, Ford— oh my god, you’re so big.”

“I know, love, i know,” he soothes, finding your parted lips with his as he starts to move slowly, making shallow thrusts that have you both gasping. “you’re doing so good, taking me so well, feels like heaven, baby.”  

You feel every inch of him, every twitching vein as he sinks deeper, the stretch delicious, making your head spin. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him on. Your wet pussy squeezes his dick so good he nearly loses it right there.

And it’s too much, too good to be true, both of you letting out incoherent sounds and slurred praises as he thrusts into you, moving faster, his thick cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you. You try to move together with him, creating a perfect sync.

“You feel so good, sweetheart, too good. i don’t— I don’t think i’m gonna last.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, cupping his cheek when you look right into his dazed eyes. “fuck me harder, Ford, please. . . need you so bad.”

He hears you, snapping his hips against yours, his pace quickening as he loses himself in you. Your moans about how good it feels fill the air while your hands are clawing at his back, nails biting into his skin as you try to pull him closer where it seems impossible. His scars feel rough under your touch as your fingers trace them blindly, making Ford moan at the sensation. His hips jerk forward, driving deeper and you cry out.

“So tight,” he groans into your ear. “you’re squeezing me, love, c-can’t think. . . you feel— oh, sweetheart, pussy so good.”

Your nails dig deeper, leaving crescents in his skin as he fucks into you with deep thrusts that have you gasping. “more, please, more,” you beg and he obeys without question, burying himself deeper, harder into your cunt.

“That’s it, love,” his hand slips between your hot bodies to find your aching clit, circling his fingers over the swollen nub with featherlight touches. “look at you. . . so beautiful, so good for me, you’re perfect, love. . . my perfect girl.”

Your vision blurs when he thrusts into you, at the same time his thumb presses down on your clit and a sharp cry spilling from your lips as the pleasure builds.

“Ford!” you whimper while your hands clutch at him. “oh god, i—”

“I know, love, i know, i feel it, let go for me, sweetheart, cum for me.

His beautiful voice and words are enough to pull you through another powerful orgasm, your body tense as you finish, breathless, boneless, drunk on his cock.

Ford’s dick throbs as your release slicks his length, dripping down to pool at the base of him. “you’re so wet, sweetheart, good girl.”

You cant think, not really, too fucked out and tired, your body trembles and you can barely take a breath, but Ford doesn’t stop, determined to fuck your brains out. His thumb circles your clit again and your hips jerk away, the overstimulation making you whimper. “n-no, wait— I’m sensitive—”

“Just one more, love,” he pleads. “please, baby, just one more for me. you can do it, I know you can.”

You try to close your legs and your body twitches with every touch, too much to handle, but Ford holds you open firmly, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, your shoulder, anywhere he can reach. “you’re so good to me, so good, can’t get enough of you.”

He continues thrusting into you, filling your pussy to the brim and pulling out, slamming back again, you feel good, you do, especially with right amount of pressure being applied to your clit, but pleasure borders with sensitivity and little pain from overstimulation as he drags against that tender spot inside you. “Fuck, please! i can’t—”

“You can. You’re my good girl, you can give me one more, please, baby, cum on my cock again.” his words light a fire in your veins because the coil of pleasure tightening and building again despite the ache, despite all these overwhelming sensations. He fucks you so deliciously, grinding his hips into you in deep, slow rolls that make your toes curl and eyes roll, your nails scraping across his shoulders and back, all over his old scars. Ford groans at the sting.

“That’s it, love, just like that, let me have all of you.” he wets his fingers with saliva before bringing them on your sensitive nub again. “you like that? y-you like it when i touch you here, sweetheart? tell me, tell me how good it feels.”

“So gooood. . . feels so good, ford, don’t stop, please don’t stop, fuck me, fuck me!” and then you break again, another orgasm crashing over you, but this time you literally scream from how good it feels, your body convulses, your nails dig into his back with such force that blood comes out. Ford watches you come undone as he fucks you through it, his cock coated in your juices once again.

Ford cant hold himself anymore because you notice how his thrusts grow more deeper, harder, more erratic. His sweaty forehead is pressed against yours, his groans changing into desperate pants and you feel how close he is because his cock twitches inside you, his body trembles as he fights to hold on. “don’t w-worry, don’t worry, I’ll pull out— I’ll—”  

“No!” the word bursts out of you in a panic and immediately, you lock your legs around his waist to prevent that. “no, no, Ford, please, don’t, you can’t, don’t leave me, please—” your words tumble out in a frantic, incoherent mess, more sob than speech honestly as you cling to him like your life depends on it. “please,” you babble, your nails scraping against his skin, pulling him impossibly closer. “need it, need you, don’t pull out, please, please, please—”  

His surprised eyes fly open as he processes your words. “but—”

All you do is nod frantically in response, hot tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, your legs squeezing around his waist to keep him in place. “yes, inside, cum inside me, I need it, I need you to cum inside me”  

Ford groans as he gives in, his hips snapping forward with a force that makes you cry out. He holds your thighs, spreading you wider for himself as he buries himself to the hilt, as deep as he can go. He growls as his head falls back, he squeezes his eyes shut and just loses himself. “gonna— g-gonna cum inside you. . .”  

It happens, finally, his hips slam into you one last time and he finishes, his cock pulses as his cum paints your walls white. He hides his face into your neck while loud sound tears from his throat, halfway between a groan and whine. He rolls his hips, continuing to sloppily and lazily thrust into your pussy, grinding against you, unable to stop because he needs to give you every last drop of himself. “you’re— my love, so good, I feel so good. . .”

You lay under him and take it all, milking him for everything he has. Your fingers tracing his beautiful scars, ones you gave him now and his own ones, smearing a little blood over his skin, your legs tightening around him as you whimper, feeling every pulse of him, every twitch of his cock inside as he fills you. Oh god, such intimacy leaves you dizzy, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst.  

“Thank you, Ford,” your body arches into him, asking, no, seeking more, always more. “feels so good. . .”

Ford finally comes back to his senses upon hearing your voice, he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he shudders through the last waves of his orgasm. He presses kisses to your face, your neck, your shoulders. “I love you, i never want to let you go.”  

He pulls out with a shaky groan as he tries to catch his breath, his cock still glistening and twitching. But the loss of him leaves you feeling achingly empty, your walls clenching around nothing as a soft whimper escapes your lips.  

Ford is frozen above you, though, his chest heaving, his wide eyes fixed between your legs. The sight of his warm thick seed slowly trickling out of you renders him completely silent.

You let out a deep sigh, dazed, a dumb little smile curling at your lips as you look up at him, completely blissed out and so beautifully ruined. You trail your fingers down slowly, maybe to tease him once more, until finally dipping between your thighs to catch the mess he’s made.  

You circle your clit gently, then lowering your fingers to your hole, collecting his cum, covering your fingers with this sticky mess and Ford tracks every movement. And then, oh, you push it back inside, curling your fingers deep, your head falling back with a quiet moan as you savour every drop.  

Ford fucking whimpers at the sight as he watches you pump his sperm back into yourself.

“Don’t. . . don’t want to lose it,” you smile, looking at your scientist through half-lidded eyes, gaze unfocused. “don’t want it to go to waste, want to feel you.”  

Before you can say another word, he’s on you again. His hands spread your thighs wides when he positions himself at your entrance. Without word, he pushes back in, groaning as he stretches you open again. “you’re beautiful,” he gives you a kiss, while slowly fucking his cum back into you again, making sure to not miss a drop, letting it stay where it belongs.  

You hold him close, caressing his face and looking into his beautiful eyes. “I love you so much,” but you get interrupted by a little sudden thrust he makes. “oh, ah, Ford!” 

“Shh, i’ve got you, love,” Ford gives you a warm loving smile, rocking his hips gently. “you were so good for me, sweetheart.” he looks at you like you’re the only thing that’s ever mattered, like he’d give you the whole world if you asked and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Your crazy heart thunders in your ears as you hug and cuddle him, lost in the way he fills you so completely, so perfectly, like you were made for this.

The two of you don’t even bother moving because there’s simply no energy left to clean up. Ford stays buried inside you with his heavy body on top of yours like a blanket. For the first time in life, you feel that safe, good and loved, warm and. . . full in every sense of the word.

Sometime later. . . hours? you’re not sure, but the soft gray light of dawn creeping through the curtains. You feel Ford’s broad chest pressed against your back and suddenly his hand skims up your thigh.

“Ford,” you murmur, half-asleep as his lips brush the curve of your shoulder. His hand finds your leg, gently lifting it as he settles himself against you. “yes, please. . .” you smile, closing your eyes as you feel his cock rubbing against your folds.

He kisses the side of your neck. “just need you again, can’t help it. . . need to feel your pussy around me.”

You moan softly as he slides into you from behind. The angle is perfect as he fills you, sending shivers through your sleepy body. His hand lays on your thigh, holding you steady as he starts rocking into you, slowly, still sleepy, but fucking deep, each thrust making you sigh and whimper.

“I’ll never get enough of you,” his free hand skims over your waist, cupping your breast and playing with your nipple.

Meanwhile your hand reaches back to clutch at his hip and your head falls back onto his shoulder, Ford drives deeper into your pussy. “Ford. . . oh, Ford, yesss. . . just like that.” you mewl sleepily when you feel his fingers on your clit. 

You dont know what time is it, probably very very early morning, but you let him take you. There’s no rush, no urgency, just sleepy, languid thrusts and quiet soft moans you two share in the early morning while being half awake.

The sun is higher now, casting autumn golden streaks across the room, when you wake again. You’re alone in the bed and your body deliciously sore, marked with the evidence of last night. . . and this morning. Faint marks of kisses and hickeys bloom along your skin, the ache in your thighs reminds you of how thoroughly he’d claimed you.

The blanket is all over you, keeping you warm despite your nudity. You stretch out, yawning and blink away the last traces of sleep, but you notice him at the edge of the bed. Ford sits with his scarred back to you, hair messy, but his posture is perfectly straight as he leans over his. . . ah, yeah, now you see it, journal.

He’s scribbling something down there, intense focused, face serious and you just lay there, enjoying comfortable silence and watching him, taking in the way he looks so handsome even in his rumpled state.

“Morning, genius,” you murmur finally.

Ford glances over his shoulder. “Oh, good morning, love,” he says warmly, setting the journal aside and moving to your side of the bed. He leans down to kiss you, brushing his hand over your hair. “how are you feeling?”

“Sore,” you admit with a smile as you stretch beneath the blanket.

Ford studies you. “i’d say that’s to be expected. Rest a bit longer, okay? I’ll make us something to eat soon.”

“You better hurry because i’m so starved,” you yawn, covering your mouth with your hand.

“Starved, are you? well, you’re taking a shower first,” he says seriously, though his tone remains gentle. “you’re not wandering around covered in. . .” he stops himself as his cheeks flush a little, trying to find right words to use.

“Hm? Covered in what, ford?” you tease, propping yourself up on one elbow.  

“You know what, honey, don’t make me say that.”

Your eyes flick to his journal. “what are you even writing in there, anyway? can’t believe you’re making notes after the night we had. Is it, like, some x-rated research?”  

Because of your question, Ford straightens up, his face expression changes, the earlier embarrassment melting away as excitement takes its place. He looks like he’s just cracked the secret of the universe. “actually,” he begins, adjusting his glasses, “i think i’ve finally solved the equation for that anomaly we’ve been tracking! The one that disappeared because of the rainstorm, remember? I had a theory about the dimensional distortion rate and this morning, it all just clicked!” Ford launches into an explanation now. 

You, however, just blink at him and knowing grin spreads across your face. “so, what you’re saying is. . . my pussy literally makes you smarter?”  

Ford stops mid-sentence as he stares at you, flustered. “i— I wouldn’t put it like that,” he says, scratching the back of his neck, looking everywhere except at you. “but. . . perhaps there’s a correlation. . .”

You just laugh, dropping back onto the pillows as you watch his awkward attempts to compose himself. “yeah, yeah, Ford, I got you.”

He grumbles something about inappropriate comments, but the corners of his mouth betray him, curving into a shy smile.  

“So, my pussy is the key to unlocking the mysteries of the universe? Who knew i was a genius all along.”  

Ford groans, hiding his face in his hands, “Oh my god,” he says your name. “you’re impossible.”  

[riordanness]

i wish you would — [p.jackson]

pairing: percy jackson x reader

wordcount: 0.9K

warnings: nightmare mention

requested: no

I hesitate for a second before I knock on his door. I don’t want to wake him, but I’ve come this far already, and I know deep down he won’t mind.

I knock, and there’s a clattering sound inside the Poseidon cabin, like Percy has tripped over a chair or something on his way to the door.

The door swings open, and there he stands, in flannel pyjama pants and a navy blue hoodie. His dark hair is messed up, and he looks both alert and half asleep.

“Y/n, hey,” he says. “It’s the middle of the night. What happened?”

I shrug one shoulder, suddenly nervous. Which is ridiculous. Percy is my best friend. Why am I nervous to talk to him?

“I’m sorry,” I apologise. “I had a really bad nightmare and—“

I don’t get the time to finish. Percy immediately pulls me inside and closes his door, and then envelopes me in a hug. I melt instantly into his familiar embrace, burying my face in his hoodie. He smells like sea salt and oreos.

“Hey, trouble?” he asks softly.

I pull my head away from the hug, leaning back just enough to look into his eyes. “Yeah?” I kind of whisper in response.

“What was your nightmare about?”

I take a second to answer. “You. Being in pain. I don’t really know why or what was happening to you but I knew you weren’t okay at all and it was somehow my fault. And…” My voice doesn’t have the strength to continue.

Percy’s sea green eyes are so full of differing emotions I can’t even tell them all apart. “Y/n,” he says quietly, and the sadness in his voice makes my heart break. “You don’t need to worry about me, you know.”

“I know,” I try to protest weakly, “but—“

“No buts,” he shushes me, his index finger on my mouth. “Just hush, trouble.” He unravels his arms from the hug, takes my hand by the fingers, and leads me to his bunk. “Sleep in here tonight, okay?”

“With you?” I mean to think it, but I’m sleepy enough that my brain sends the words through my mouth instead.

Percy kind of coughs and kind of laughs at the same time. “Yeah, with me. If that’s, like, okay with you and everything. I just figured it would help.”

“Yes. Yes yes, it would help,” I say quickly, smiling finally.

“Okay.” Percy grins.

Once I’m comfortably in his arms and under his navy blue sheets, my head on his chest and my fingers intertwined with the strings on his hoodie, I finally relax. I’m warm all through, and I don’t know if it’s because of Percy… or because of Percy.

“Hey, Perce?” I whisper into the darkness.

“Yeah?” he whispers back, just as quiet.

“You know how sometimes people fall in love, and they don’t even know it at all?”

“Like Silena and Beckendorf?”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “Like them. And like—“

“If you’re gonna say Katie and Travis, I’ve already bet twenty bucks on them getting together by the end of this summer.”

“Percy, shush, I’m trying to say something important,” I whack him gently on the chest. “But yeah, they’re totally and a hundred percent in love. Like, the rivals-to-lovers thing they’ve got going on is so cute.”

“Personally I like best-friends-to-lovers a lot more,” Percy admits softly, and I go quiet.

“Me too.”

Even though it’s pitch dark in his cabin right now, I can feel his smile.

“Hey, trouble?”

“Why do you call me that?” I ask, instead of answering.

“Because.”

“That’s not an answer,” I protest.

“That is totally an answer. You asked a question and I answered it. That makes it an answer.”

I roll my eyes, then remember he can’t see me. “Well, I want an actual answer.”

“Okay.” He reaches up and ruffles my hair, and instead of shoving his hand away like I usually would, I let him. “I call you trouble because no matter how much you try to be good and perfect and sweet all the time, trouble always finds you, and that’s adorably funny.”

I roll my eyes again. “Oh really,” I say flatly.

“Yep.”

“Okay.”

There’s silence for long enough for me to wonder if Percy has fallen asleep, and then he speaks again.

“So, trouble,” he says.

“Mhm?”

“You know I’m like, in love with you.”

I take a moment to even process that. “Huh?”

“I’m in love with you, trouble.” The arm that’s around me is suddenly a little tense. “Have been for a while. Uh, hopefully you don’t find that weird. Sorry.”

“Percy,” I half laugh. “I’m in love with you too, idiot.”

“Oh. Wait. Really? You are?”

“Of course.” Even though it’s dark, I know his face better than anyone’s, and I sit up just enough to kiss him. If it’s even possible, I get even more warm. “And just for the record, I like best-friends-to-lovers best too.”

[323cutie]

pull me closer when the night is over. | kys

pairing ୨୧ bff yeosang x reader

word count ୨୧ 775

genre ୨୧ fluff, bffs to lovers (kind of. hehe), confessions, y/n lowk freaking out but we ball, sleepovers, hand holding <3

warnings ୨୧ none i think !!

author's note ୨୧ ik i said the mingi fic was gonna be next but my mind said No.. Yeosang so here we are!!!!! I love him

“Yeosang?” You call out into the dark, staring at what you can make of the ceiling.

It’s late. Really late, and probably not the time to tell him. But you don’t think you can lay next to him in bed much longer without thinking about it and borderline freaking out. Not that he probably isn’t already asleep anyways –

“Hm?” comes his sleepy reply, and you feel like shit. He was probably so close to falling asleep and now you’re here, heart pounding in your chest as you gaze at the moonlight coming through his blinds like it’ll calm you down. “Y’okay?”

You swallow. No, you want to answer. “I need to tell you something,” you say instead, turning on your side so you can face him. He’s turned with his back towards you, but shuffles around on his other side. His hair is messy from rolling around on the pillow, eyes bleary even in the dark. You yearn for him. 

“What’s up?” He murmurs, blinking at you like he’s trying to wake himself up. He says it so casually, like you haven’t been losing your mind the last three months. Like you don’t think about pushing his hair out of his eyes all the time. Like you don’t almost always instinctively reach for his hand when you’re walking around campus together.

You were so stupid for thinking a sleepover would make you get your shit together.

You don’t know what you were trying to do – honest. You thought maybe just sleeping over at Yeosang’s the way you used to do practically all of sophomore year would kick your brain in the ass to remind you hey. He’s your best friend. Yes, he’s handsome and sweet and funny and even helped wash someone else’s vomit out of your hair at a party one night and then piggybacked you home just because you asked –

Okay, well. You can’t be blamed for it.

“So, um,” you whisper. You kick your feet under his covers and gulp, looking past Yeosang’s shoulder and hoping he doesn’t notice your lack of eye contact in the dark. But you really can’t help yourself, anyways, because you see the care and worry shining in his eyes in the moonlight, and you’re gone. “I like you.”

You see his eyebrows shoot up and think Fuck.

Maybe you say it out loud too, because Yeosang kind of huffs out a laugh the way he does when he’s nervous. “Oh my god,” you say next, moving to lay on your back, hands covering your face. “Literally, just – fuck, forget I said that. I mean don’t – but – just, like, forget I said it right now. I wasn’t gonna – well I was, but. Clearly this was not the best time. Holy shit. I’m going home.”

(You are not. It is too late to walk and you don’t have a car. Both you and Yeosang are well aware of this.)

You hear Yeosang giggle and you think it’s the only thing keeping you from bursting into tears. Hands still covering your face, you hear him shuffle and his weight dip the bed a little differently. Then his hand is around your wrist and you turn to look at him and he’s closer than before and you don’t know what he’s doing. 

“Stay,” he murmurs, something extra shining in his gaze. You think you know the word for it, but you don’t want to say it in case you’re wrong. His hand at your wrist slides up to your palm, your fingers, and then his lacing his hand with yours and squeezing, soft, telling. You can’t help the little gasp that leaves your lips.

“Yeosang,” you whisper, turning on your side to face him again. Your intertwined hands rest between the two of you. You need to know, to hear him say it –

“I do too,” he says. His voice is quiet and even in the dark you know his ears are bright red. It makes your heart pound and you think it’s shaking the whole bed, the weight of your care for him – and now his for you – too heavy for his stupid IKEA bed frame that took the two of you way too long to put together. But the world is still quiet outside of his room, and he is still close, a promise etched into his words. “We can talk about it more in the morning. But I do.”

Like you, his unsaid words float in the air.

“Okay,” you say, trying to hold back your smile. You scoot a centimeter closer. Yeosang squeezes your hand again, his thumb running over your knuckles.

Well. You hope morning comes quick.

[kalopses-sonderes]

Hey, hyper anon here...had this idea for a self aware cookie run x readers series or one shot If you're interested! It's kinda based off your imposter au!

Y/n gets transported into game and brought before the imposter! The imposter starts talking but then y/n claims they wanna talk to the imposter in private! When they talk in private, only the imposter and y/n, y/n reveals that they just want to live a normal life among cookies and they are totally fine with the imposter being the ruler of the cookies because they seem very cool and being a ruler seems too stressful (bonus: y/n doesn't feel worthy of being the cookie's ruler as well because they don't have powers or something like the imposter does...and bonus bonus if the imposter can do stuff like summon amazing cotton candy and stuff to bribe cookies with!) Imposter calls cookies in and apologizes for the misunderstanding and 'mistaking (favorite flavor) cookie as an imposter' and apologizes by helping them find a home and a place!

Oh and later on...cookies read imposter's dairy and discover that imposter is...well an imposter, and what their baker said to them and the little...deal they made (imposter being ruler, y/n just living their life as a normal cookie citizen of kingsom) but has an evil yet good plan (good in y/n's unknowing eyes, bad in cookie's eyes) where the imposter has slowly been bribing y/n and winning their heart so even if they are found out, y/n is singing their praises from on high and would vouch for them! (Example of bribes: giving y/n their favorite sweets, becoming their closest friend...which leads into something that would horrifying cookies more because jealousy, showing y/n amazing tricks, and taking them to places one could only DREAM of and more!) Thing that horrified cookies: the imposter was first doing it out of manipulation but is clearly starting to actually LIKE the baker and wants to be their friend...not to charm em to have the cookie's sweet baker singing their praises!

So, in order to get their y/n back and make y/n sing THEIR praises instead and make y/n WANT to he the center of their world...they start counter bribing! They start doing nice things to and for y/n, claiming that it's because they want to welcome y/n at first and then slowly up the spoiling...giving y/n more and more attention, making sure y/n is melting at THEIR fingertips and not the imposter's...making y/n desire them and not the imposter.

And when time is right...imposter is exposed! Imposter tries to get y/n on their side....buuut y/n can't resist the cookie's siren call of a sweet beckon and possibly a cute saying along the lines of 'oh sweetheart, come to [cute nickname they call themselves]' or 'oh [cute nickname], you shouldn't stress about this buisness...come, let's go home and [activity they like or find relaxing...examples, go bake some monster muffins to munch on or go cuddle or give y/n a backrub or something]' and it makes y/n go running to them like a savior unable to resist a siren's call.

A/n: Omg I want this to be a series, so this is gonna be like mostly my brain rotting rambles and small portions of little fics so we can build off it later on in the series

All the writing in purple is the little fics, default color is just my rambles and headcanons about it

“Imposter for Baker? Count me in!”

Series masterlist

- Just imagine little cookie y/n plopping into the cookie verse like “oop, guess this is my new life now.” They just start living a normal life on the outskirts of their kingdom so no one can find them. Cause, if you you were transported to a new universe, you would think you were their god/baker or they were gonna try and hunt you down. Soooo y/n decided to keep to themselves and not let their presence be known yet.

- BOOM! There’s news of the “baker” being spotted and brought to the big castle to take there throne and high power blah blah. The Imposter looks similar to you, just with purple eyes(If you have purple eyes… now you don’t). You can’t tell what the true bakers eye color is because the statues aren’t painted, so the imposter fit the bill well.an they had powers! It has to be their baker then!

- Y/n is absolute happy about that! They get to sit back and relax, they go in public now and just tell cookies they just were “ blessed with the looks of their baker” and how they aren’t them. Some of the cookies were extremely skeptical but let it slide since they said they weren’t their baker and weren’t trying to impersonate them, cause the imposter is totallyyyy the real baker!

“You look oddly familiar..” Pure Vanilla looks Y/n up and down.

The cookies surround Y/n, trying to figure out why you look exactly like their baker.. just with your boring eyes, not neon purple eyes like their totally real baker has. Espresso has a magnifying glass in your cookie face, looking at all the detail.

‘Uhhhhhhh… I was just blessed by our baker, and uh, they blessed me with their beauty and I’m not them. I don’t have purple eyes or cool powers! I’m just trying to live a normal life like everyone else.” You say, any normal person would have seen right through you and what you were saying, but the cookies believed you. You weren’t claiming to be their baker so they have no reason to not let you live a peaceful life, it could just be an odd coincident!

“Well they don’t seem like their lying.. Guess they get to go peacefully for now till the Baker decided what’s to do with them.” Milk shrugs, everyone nodding and humming in agreement with Milk.

- Once the imposter finds out you’re there they are instantly scared. What if you go hunting them?! Or take the throne and execute them?!

- They order a few cookies to go collect you so they can have a one on one talk with you disguising it as a dinner twitch their “look a like” for funnies. Once the cookies bring you back, the imposter leads you away to a more secluded room in the castle so no one can spy on you both as they question you.

“This is my throne and-“ The imposter started once they closed the door the small storage room.

“You can keep it, I don’t want to be the ruler of this kingdom, just live a normal life.” You interrupted, you looked pretty calm about the whole ordeal while the imposter looked like they’ve seen a ghost.

“Wait.. what? You’re just gonna let me keep it.” The imposter look dumbfounded, not actually believing you’ll let them keep at this power. They thought they wold have to threaten you or make an official announcement that you’re an imposter and let the cookies hunt you down for the. “Not even gonna put up a small fight.? I didn’t even get to finish my monologue I worked so hard on..” :(

- You got to live a pretty normal life under the imposters rule. Until Pure Vanilla decides to go through the imposters room and found a diary, I snooped through it and read it….. Finding out you’re the real baker! -insert Pure Vanilla doing surprised pikachu face- He was flabbergasted(I love this word so much for no reason) He didn’t expect to be worshipping the WRONG baker the entire time and their real baker was being bribed to like the imposter and be their friend. So if the imposter gets found out, you’d take Imposters side over the cookies! He also found out how you never wanted to be Baker and let the imposter take your spot! D:

- It clicked in Pure Vanilla’s head, you have been spending loads of time with the imposter and received even as house from them and gifts. He came up with an idea to also bribe you! He gets the other cookies in on it.. It’s basically a full on war!

- your house is basically full of gifts from all the cookies and you’re absolutely clueless on what this about and you didn’t mind it at first till you could barely see your living room floor from all their gifts piled up in there!

Who will win the real baker? Imposter or the cookies? Find out on the next episode of “Imposter for Baker? Count me in!”

A/n: kept it very open ended so the other parts of this series will fit well :D

[bitethedevil]

Good Little Mouse (Raphael x Reader/Tav): NSFW Shortfic

Tags: breeding, mind-control, oral, non-con/dub-con, NSFW, revengefucking, degradation

Summary: Reader/Tav did not give Raphael the Crown but it ended up in his hands anyway. You become Raphael's pet as revenge and he uses the Crown of Karsus on you to keep you docile.

(AN: The devil be deviling in this one. It is extremely fucked up. I don't even know guys. This is some pretty depraved shit. I didn't write this. I was possessed. The devil made me do it, I swear. This isn't who I am.)

WARNINGS: Just fucking all of them, honestly. Non-con/dub-con. Mind-control. Mild Violence. Forced pregnancy. Manipulation and Abusive Behaviour.

NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT

“The poor little thing has been inconsolable since you left,” Haarlep said to Raphael when he entered the boudoir and looked at you with an exaggerated pout.

You barely knew what was going on, since Raphael had you under his power. He used the Crown of Karsus to keep you docile and entirely dependent on him.

Even though you could barely even think, you never confused Haarlep for Raphael. You knew the face of your master. He was your whole world.

“Is that so?” Raphael said gently. He changed into his human form and sat down beside you on the bed. He ran his fingers through your hair and you smiled at his touch. “Did you miss me, sweetling?”

You nodded. He talked to you as if you were a pet. You essentially were: you had a collar with a leash around your neck and you barely had the brainpower to construct a sentence anymore.

If your brain was still working, you would have recognized that he had done all of this as a sick kind of revenge for all the snarky comments and resistance you had given him during your adventures. 

You had denied him at every turn, but you had been stupid enough to leave the Crown in the Chionthar and when Raphael got his hands on it, a reckoning came. You could barely remember any of it. Your whole mind was directed at one thing now: Raphael.

“Can you kiss Haarlep goodbye?” Raphael asked you gently with a smirk on his face as he petted your hair. 

You obediently turned to Haarlep. They threw a disappointed glance at Raphael before kissing you deeply. Their tongue delved into your mouth and their saliva mixed with yours. 

Haarlep let go of the kiss and left the boudoir. You felt the familiar tingle of arousal starting to spread in your abdomen. 

You felt a tug on your leash and your attention turned to Raphael again. He pointed to the spot at his feet.

“On the floor,” Raphael ordered. When you quickly complied, he ran his hand over your hair. 

Your body was on fire. It was by complete instinct when you tried to sneak your hand between your legs. Raphael delivered a swift and firm slap to your cheek for doing so.

“Ah-ah” he warned and pulled your head backwards by your hair so you were looking up at him.

You quickly put your hands on his thighs instead. 

“Good girl,” he praised. “Such a quick learner. What is it that you want, my sweet?”

You just kept looking up at him. You wanted him, but your mind and your mouth failed you. Your mind was mush because of the magic and Haarlep’s spit. 

“Oh, my sweet empty-headed girl,” Raphael cooed with a smile on his face as he caressed your cheek. “You are not as outspoken as you used to be, are you? I think it rather suits you.”

His thumb brushed over your lips.

“No matter…” he purred as you opened your mouth and let his thumb into your mouth. “I think we can put that rude mouth of yours to much better use…don’t you agree?”

You nodded as you eagerly sucked on his thumb. He began undoing his pants with his free hand, his eyes never leaving yours. Your eyes lit up.

“That certainly caught your attention,” Raphael said with a chuckle. He removed his thumb from your mouth and got up from the bed to tower over you. “Open your mouth, dear”

You did.

“Wider…wider…” he ordered, slightly pulling on your jaw. When your mouth was wide open for him, he praised you: “Such a good pet…Now, keep it open like that until I tell you otherwise, understand?”

You nodded.

You kept your mouth wide open and closed your lips around him as his length slid into your mouth. Without any warning, he started fucking your throat in slow but hard thrusts.

It was difficult not to gag around. It hurt and your eyes were tearing up, but you were still looking up at him, hungry for his approval. 

“This…is where you belong, dear,” Raphael said with a smile between groans of pleasure. “All of that energy wasted on trying to humiliate me and deny me…” he groaned as he slid his whole length down your throat. “I knew from the moment we met, from that first little clever comment of yours, that this is where you truly belong…beneath me.”

You had tears and drool down your face from trying to accommodate his length and his forceful thrusts. He withdrew from your mouth and gestured to you that you could close your mouth again. Your jaw ached. He admired your ruined face for a moment before grabbing your leash.

He pulled you up from the floor and into a standing position before bending you over the bed. He ran his hands over your ass. He squeezed your cheeks and spread them to get a better view of your dripping slit.

“So eager,” he purred and brushed a finger lightly over your clit, making you slightly jump because your unbearable arousal had made you so sensitive. He chuckled at your reaction. “Is this where you want my attention, hm?”

He slid a single finger into you and it made you moan softly into the mattress. You nodded eagerly. 

“Use your voice,” he ordered and stopped moving his finger. “Do you want me to continue?”

“Mhm,” was all you could say.

“Good girl,” he praised in that patronizing voice of his and added another finger, making you moan louder and push yourself back onto his fingers.

He bent down to place a few kisses up your back before whispering in your ear:

“Do you want more?”

“Mhm,” you said and nodded.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Raphael purred in her ear before standing up behind you. You heard a snap. “Careful what you wish for.”

You grasped onto the sheets and tried to bite down into the mattress as he slowly entered you. Usually, he at least did you the kindness of only fucking you in his human form. This time he had for some reason changed into his devil form and his length stretched you out to a point where it was painful.

You whined into the sheets and squirmed as his whole length fully entered you. Raphael leaned down to your ear and stroked your side.

“Oh, my sweet, is it too much for you?” Raphael asked in a gentle voice.

You nodded. 

“It hurts, doesn’t it?”

You nodded again.

“Poor little thing,” he purred in your ear. “We could stop, of course. Although that would make me very disappointed…You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you?”

You tensed up. His entire length was inside you and it was way too much…but you wanted his approval. His attention. His love. You wanted nothing more. You lived to serve him.

You shook your head.

“Good,” he said and started slowly thrusting into you. 

You barely had any time to adjust to his size before he picked up the pace. It felt like heaven and hell at the same time. It hurt, but there was also overwhelming pleasure.

It was brutal and it was with a specific goal in mind. Raphael was always determined to cum inside you. 

He let Haarlep play with you, but they were never allowed to use anything but their fingers or their mouth. Only Raphael was allowed to take you like this. You knew there was a reason, but you never truly grasped it with your ruined mind.

“Do you want me to fill you?” Raphael asked between thrusts. “You'll be a good girl and carry my bastards…isn’t that so?”

You nodded.

You heard a cruel chuckle from him and his thrusts became even more brutal. He came inside you with a groan shortly after. He stayed inside you while he caught his breath. 

“Perhaps I’ll send you back to your friends when you start to show, while you are still under my control, so you can happily inform them that you are to become a mother…” Raphael said and left a couple of kisses up your back. “Perhaps I’ll simply let you go with no memory of any of this. Leaving you to wonder why that tiefling child of yours looks an awful lot like that devil you kept spurning during your little adventure…”

He ran his fingers through your hair and kissed the back of your neck. 

“Would you like that, dear?” He purred into your ear. 

You nodded and smiled. You would do anything for him. 

You could feel that he was already hard inside you again and he started slowly thrusting again.

"Good little mouse..."

[ddejavvu]

Fairy!reader with Spencer?? She just has ZERO understanding of boundaries/Spencer’s aversion to touch so she is just all over him and he’s getting so flustered but he actually loves it <3

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

i'll do big!fairy reader where she's able to adjust her size or something like that <3

--

"So- so you can just grow and shrink as much as you want?" Spencer verifies, voice wary. You're currently prying at his wrist, pulling at his hands with your soft fingers.

"Mhm," You nod, finally wrestling his hand against yours. You match up your fingers, and Spencer feels warmth ooze through his skin at your touch.

"Perfect," You gush, wings fluttering happily behind you, "Same size."

Spencer feels weak in the knees.

Silence falls over the two of you, but your excited brain doesn't seem to realize that it's tense on Spencer's end. Instead, your eyes rove over his pretty face with his pink cheeks, and land on a chess set on a table behind his head.

"Oh," You gush, "Spencer, what's that?"

You rise to your knees on the couch to point over his shoulder, and it means your chest is at his eye-level. He clears his throat, turning his head to look at where you're pointing, 'Oh. That's- um, that's my chess set."

"There's a horse," You breathe, eyes shiny and wings fluttering, "Spencer, can I please have the horse? I promise I'll be careful with it."

"Uh, yeah- yeah, you can have the horse," Spencer reaches behind him to snatch the knight off of its square, presenting it to you with his slender fingers, "Here."

"Thank you!" You squeal, plucking it from his grip and surging forwards to smash your lips against his own. His eyes widen and his hands flail, but the kiss is a hit-and-run, over faster than he can think about stopping it.

"I like horses," You hum, eyes on the figurine as you settle against his stiff chest. You're tucked into his side like you hadn't just laid a kiss on him so big that he'll still feel your lips against his while he's drifting to sleep tonight. Your fingers ghost over the sleek build of the knight, "People used to ride them through the forest, and when they'd stop for lunch, I got to sneak out and braid the horse's hair."

"Did- um," Spencer's voice fails him, cracking mid-sentence, "Did anyone ever catch you?"

"No," You shake your head, craning your neck up so that you can meet his eyes. Yours are shining, as glittery as your wings, and your grin is just as pretty. The expression takes Spencer's breath away, and he's not sure his cheeks could get pinker if they tried.

"People don't notice fairies," You shrug, "Well, you do, but you're different."

At first, Spencer takes it as an insult. Well, not an insult, but not a compliment either. Different in the way people whisper it at him when he's rambling too much, or when he could read at a twelfth grade level at age six.

"You see things other people don't," You go on to explain, head back against his chest and cheek chubbed where it's squished against the material of his sweater, "You care more about everything, you make people feel safe. That's why I came here, y'know? 'Cause I knew you wouldn't hurt me."

Different is okay, Spencer thinks, heart pounding in his chest as you lean down to kiss his finger. His hands are still hovering aimlessly in the air, but at the sweet smooch, he lowers it to rest over your waist. You shimmy happily at the gesture, and for once, Spencer doesn't worry about the glitter shaking off of your wings onto his couch. He can deal with that later, for now, he'll care about you.

[planetdream]

I just stumbled across your skz & dildo training post and I think it turned my brain to MUSH and like hhhhhh;;; now I’m imagining what they would be like with throat training, especially the meanies like seungmin?? Teasing you as you turn into you a teary, drooling mess? Or fucking your cunt while making you take it? Goodbye

[mentioned post] oooo okok was gonna structure this like the prev post but the thoughts took over

chan...oh my god... he likes to make you watch while you're taking the dildo into your mouth. likes to sit you all pretty like in front of a mirror while he sits behind you, slowly guiding the dildo into your mouth. likes to hear the way you gag and to see how your tears fall when it reaches further than you've had it before—will praise you for the way you gag and how pretty you are when you shed a tear, amongst other things, of course. still likes taking his time with you but sometimes he wants to make you take it. (likes to place his free hand around your neck, if he's not playing with your clit, feeling how deep the dildo is in your throat)

as mentioned, minho likes pushing you close to your limits—and throat training does not change that. however, minho really assumes the role of a teacher. he's comforting, guides you well, and makes sure it's an enjoyable for you most importantly. he makes sure you're not feeling discomforted, that you're breathing properly, etc. he's still stern but not quite mean because he wants to take things slowly. it's not until days later, when you're a bit more confident with what he's taught you, that he slips into mean dom mode; forgoing the dildo and using his cock instead.

fucking you while making you take it? that has changbin written all over it. likes having you damn near in mating press, just needs to be face to face, chest to chest [bc he loves u n he's horny </3] tries not to be too rough with you so he opts to go slow; alternating the timing between his thrusts into you and working the dildo into your mouth. makes you cockwarm the dildo in your mouth while he's fucking you, hand over your mouth, delivering quick and deep thrusts because feeling you clench every time you gagged was driving him crazy.

with hyunjin, i think he's sweet. a little impatient and would rather have his actual dick in your mouth, but using the dildo means he can whisper sweet things and kiss on you, so he'll take it. he doesn't want you to choke too much but he loves seeing you all cute n messy for him—so he'll help in anyway he can to get rid of your gag reflex. the more you can take down your throat the more proud hyunjin is. is in love with kissing you after you've taken cock in your mouth <3

jisung walks in on you with your mouth around a cute pink dildo and he's stunned. kinda just stands there in shock for a bit. then he's suddenly bold for two seconds to ask if he can help before resorting back to being all shy (and slightly panicked). doesn't expect you to say yes nor does he expect you to say you wanted to try sucking him off (despite the fact that you've had sex with each other many time before). once he's calmed down, he'll take the dildo and help inch it into your mouth. practically drooling when he sees the look in your eye.

felix loves giving you little kisses against your throat while he's training your throat. is just...so enamored by the way you look, and the fact that you're doing this for him <3 gives the best praises and care, really preps you for when it's his cock. might start by thrusting his fingers in your mouth before you even get to taste the plastic of the dildo. if you want him to guide the dildo into your mouth and do all the work while your just take it? it's more than his pleasure to do so. he likes to wear the dildo on a strap or use the suction part on a wall and guide your head up and down.

now seungmin really wants to know how deep you can take it, and if you can take it deeper. regardless, he's going to help you. similar to minho, seungmin takes on the role of a teacher—but he's strict, condescending. wants to see how much of a mess he can make of you. will you cry? gag and choke around the dildo until you drool? and will you keep coming back and begging him to give you more? will put his fingers in your mouth with the dildo to see how wide he's fucking you open. probably chooses a size assortment of dildos to use on you.

jeongin is a menace. he's on a power high; wants to tease you and make you work for it. his heart races ever time he tells you to do something and you follow his orders—do you really want to learn how to take his cock in your mouth, or are you just a slut? he makes you stick your tongue out, slapping the tip of the dildo on your tongue. he has to make it extra messy and wet, so if you're not producing saliva quick enough for him, he'll def help you out yk.

[theshypinkflower]

🎃 Kinktober ~ Intoxication/Facless

🔨 Strade (Day 10)

Non con, intoxication, dubcon?, idk some type of con, public sex

You really should be more careful of how you drink! Poor little you, couldn't even wall with how much you drank. Then again, was it really your fault? There was such a kind stranger at the bar and he just kept buying you round after round. What reason did you have not to trust him? He was so friendly and he called you such nice things.

Although you really couldn't tell when the nice things stopped and the degradation kicked in. Surely “leibling” and “dumpkoff” mean the same thing. How could they not when he always spoke with such a smile! He'd talk to you all the while you threw back shots. “My, you've had enough to drink an Irishman under the table,” he'd chuckle before sliding you a beer. 

“Oh shit,” you muttered and rubbed your eyes, “I really shouldn't.” Your words were slurred and a mess thanks to your inebriated state. You tried to resist having anymore, you were hardly having a hard time holding your head up! But…one more drink wouldn't hurt right? 

You loved the way it burned your throat the entire way down. Alcohol was always the miracle solution for when you wanted to forget. And forget you did! Why, you couldn't even remember what his face looked like. “Okay..now…’hould go home,” you hiccuped as you struggled to stand up.

Your legs wobbled and buckled, thank goodness he was there to catch you. “You ‘ought to be careful! Could've hit the ground and cracked your head!” He said with a laugh as he put your arm around his neck. Your enabler happily led you out the door, and stupid little you didn't even realize he was leading you away from your car.

Took you a moment to realize you were instead in an alleyway. The smell from the garbage did not help your senses, and you immediately lurched over to throw up what little food in your stomach. You could hear him laugh as you vomited and stumbled like an utter idiot, clinging to him for dear life.

“Awww, feel better?” He cooed to which you slowly nodded. “Don't worry, buddy, I can make you feel a whole lot better,” he said with a sultry grin. You didn't even fight him as he shoved your head against the brick wall, snaking his other hand around your waist to undo your pants. “Not even gonna fight? Perhaps I gave you one too many!” He laughed in your ear as he fondled you. 

You whined as he nudged your pants and underwear down. “Heyyyyyy…not in public!” You complained as his chest pressed against your back. His boner poked your ass, eliciting a drunken giggle from you. “What if someone sees us?” you added and squirmed underneath his weight.

“Oh I doubt a drunk little thing like yourself would care if they're seen,” the stranger whispered in your ear. He pulled his cock out, grinding it against the soft plush of your ass. “Infact, I think you'd enjoy it!” he exclaimed before shoving his cock deep inside you, no lube or anything.

You let out a pained yelp as your hole stretched uncomfortably around his length. It wasn't long before he began moving his hips, biting into your neck to stifle a moan. Tears welled up in your eyes due to the painful feeling. The pain easily subsided as he began getting you off with his hand. 

You couldn't help but moan and grind against his hand. “Aren't you a vocal little birdie?” The voice teased as you fucked yourself back onto his cock. “So desperate! You just wanted to get fucked in an alleyway, huh?” He asked as his hips roughly slammed into you. The slutty moans you let out was enough of a response for him. 

You continued bucking your hips against his hand, fucking yourself stupid on his hand and dick. He groaned as you clenched around him, feeling so nice ‘n tight around his length. “You make such a good toy for me,” he groaned. You were much to inebriated and fucked silly to comprehend his words. It was a sight for him to see your brain practically leak out. 

His cock throbbed as he abused the sweet spot in your ass. He grinded his hips against yours, cumming deep inside you with a groan. You whined and whimpered as you came all over his hand, leaving a sticky mess. He panted and pulled out, watching his cum spill out and onto your clothes below. You sighed in content, your eyes heavy and your shoulders slouched. 

“Heh, if you're here next week, I'll buy you another round, buddy!”

[vmbrq]

okay so I was reading your post answering abt ethan being tied up and blindfolded and HOLY. SHIT. 👀

but honestly I wanna see more of dom ethan. don’t get me wrong I love sub ethan but I feel like a guy like him would absolutely DESTROY (im being dramatic LMAO) you. like this boy is strong asf and he would definitely use that to his advantage!!!

in person he would be sweet, chill and shy. probably stuttering around you and blushing H.E.A.V.I.L.Y. but once he got you alone…

he’d pin you down to the bed and whisper things into your ear, knowing the power he has over you.

i also feel like ethan COULD be into kink. idk it’s just a feeling I have abt him…

ONE MORE THING

his arms. HIS ARMS. HIS ARMS ARE SO STRONG FOR WHAT? A dork like him has arms like that?!?!?!? man. i ain’t never wanted a guy so badly in my life…😭

I’m so embarrassed. 😭😭😭

literally don't be embarrassed because you and i are in the same boat LMAOO and there's just smth so interesting about exploring the potentials of both sides of his personality. bc the way he yanked anika up off the floor and onto her feet with one arm? oh my god????? he's so strong????

in public and in non-sexual situations, he's all about forehead kisses and linking pinkies and flushes pink and laughs when you compliment him bc he doesn't quite know how to react yet. but i am also frothing at the MOUTH at the thought of him flipping the script in private LIKE???? HELLO????

it may have taken him a while, but he'd already be aware of how your brain just kinda melts whenever he shows off his physique in any way, such as lifting heavy objects from your hands to carry them instead, carrying you whenever you're too tired to move or your feet hurt too badly to walk, or even when he idly rubs his hand over his opposite bicep when he's lost in thought or stretches his arms above his head.

mentions of smut under cut ; minors dni

so when he finds out that it extends to the bedroom, he doesn't shy away from utilizing it every now and then. his physical prowess makes an appearance whenever you're burnt out or completely drained but still needing a release, the muscles in his shoulders and back flexing as he pins your body down or keeps your thighs pried apart so you can't escape the pleasure he gives you. all you have to do is let yourself go and give yourself over to him, and he'll make sure all you can do is lay there and take it.

but aside from that, tbh he would also do it just because he can. you honestly don't stand a chance against him in a competition of strength, but he thinks it's cute if you still try to squirm or push back against his grip to try to overpower him. he's heavy, pressing you right where he wants you, and you can't do anything about it. the little power trip emboldens him, and whether you've freely relinquished control or are still attempting to resist, he's talking. he rambles right in your ear, commenting on how well you're taking him and how pretty you look under him and how you want it so badly, he couldn't pull out even if he wanted to.

[vxiphoid]

PIXELATED ZEN

❨ summary ❩ genshin › genshin men playing minecraft with you ((ft. alhaitham, itto, cyno, diluc, kazuha, kaeya, heizou, & xiao))

tags ✧ modern au, drabble, fluff, chaotic energy, not proofread, cursing, ooc(?), established relationship, gn!reader, kaeya sets a forest on fire, alhaitham does not appreciate bees, mentions of pixelated deaths

amanuensis’ message ⊹ IM NOT TRYING TO KILL MY OTHER FANDOMS I SWEAR… im gonna back up from twst for a bit (im literally posting scarabia soon.) you can clearly tell who my favorites are… this unlocked a whole different part of my brain holy shit im deceased

⌜200+ e/chara ⌟

♫ blossom - t. shan

genshin masterlist

ALHAITHAM

╰┈➤ tbh he thinks minecraft is stupid, i mean, why not read a book instead of burning the images of pixels into your eye sockets😒 yeah, he’d just rather books. its a game about blocks, what could possibly be so interesting? he will admit the music is… nice. its nostalgic even though he’s never heard the track before. his favorite animals are the axolotl idk they’re his little pookies. its their little stick arms, they look so silly… as soon as haitham found out that you could color things its over, he make some sweet things like putting a sign on top of your shared house with both initials with colored dye. he’s so happy, just not very vocal about it, but he has the smallest of smiles. he definitely has headphones with the crochet sprout on it omg😭 alhaitham does not like bees whatsoever, they stung him for trying to get food. he just wanted honey :[

“look, the dog’s collar is blue. and the sign’s letters are green and then if you add a glow squid’s ink, it lights up.”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

ARATAKI ITTO

╰┈➤ he has waited YEARS for someone to play minecraft with him omfg. certified snack hoarder for times like these. you both literally hit each other to show love, you’ve accidentally killed him once bc he didn’t tell you that he had like half a heart… itto likes the water, hates the guardians because who do you think you are attacking him out of nowhere??? gets one shotted by the elder guardian while trying to fight it with a stick and then blames it on magma blocks pulling him down. GAMING WITH HIM IS NEVER CALM GODS💀 you cannot lay on him or anything bc as soon as those cave sounds or disc 13 start playing, he’s already done sprung out of his seat. his screams are actually really funny though, you got him a cat from how much he’s been assaulted by creepers. when you introduced him to shaders, he was so in awe. “babe i have a shadow!” type of excitement JAKEJEJDMnda.

“the cat’s name is sir arataki the third, you are now my loyal guard cat. who’s an adorable little guy?”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

CYNO

╰┈➤ look at this nerd (affectionate), ofc he plays cubecraft. loved it so much that when he didn’t have the actual game, he would play the really bad knockoffs💀 plays on console so you can sit between his legs, lean back, and game with him. cyno hate the split screen because he always gets confused on what side he’s on so he lets you use his switch, that way you’re both still comfortable. he’s more of an explorer if you do get mod packs for him, likes the horror ones the most. there’s nothing like hitting the enemy or shit talking the thing that could potentially one shot you with your s/o‼️ yall crouch a lot, its like a little dance. he really likes the disc “far” it itches his brain in the right way. definitely downloads the little raccoon mobs but then regrets it because he gives up all his berries to them, look at their little begging arms, literally how can you say no to that?? AND THEY WASH THE BERRIES. you both fall asleep to the ambience and to each others breathing all cuddled up ‘n warm. cyno absentmindedly sings the music while chopping wood or mining that shit has you SLUMPED. he kisses your head when you fall asleep, smiling like a silly goober.

“do-do-do-do do-do-do-do do, neow neow neow nneow neeeowwww… huh? oh, i’m almost done then we can go to bed, yeah? i’ll charge the switch too, don’t worry. just rest.”

(he’s singing that one part in danny lmfao)

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

DILUC

╰┈➤ diluc does not understand the concept of minecraft but its okay, he’s just happy to be here. he also doesn’t call it minecraft but “cave game”, the original name, he did his research though it is rare that he actually calls it minecraft. found out that you could breed animals and accidentally made a pack of wolves. diluc is really good with redstone its actually insane😭 he’s the type to protect you the whole time while you’re getting flowers for the house, boyfriend bodyguard. diluc doesn’t play much because of his job but when he does, he’s prepared to sit for hours and spend time with you :(. these are the times where he’s most affectionate, randomly kissing your cheek, getting water for the both of you before you play, etc. luc loves the mod pack “industrial”, he can build machines, how neat is that??? also it has way more OMFP with the added features it has yk? he likes the trains :D

“is the water running…? the water’s running, they have moving windmills!”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

╰┈➤ kazuha has the most expensive equipment yet doesn’t use this shit half of the time unless he’s streaming with heizou??? like im talking msi infinite rs pc, multiple monitors, a graphic drawing tablet, headphones with immaculate sound quality AND!!! the ear cups have fucking cyberpunk 3d wing guards on them. but anyways, minecraft, yes, he plays. in fact, kaedehara has about 10 beaten hardcore worlds every time a new update comes out, he must beat the game again. he rarely plays minecraft without his shaders so when you want to play the original og minecraft, he doesn’t mind, he actually enjoys the nostalgia. so much so the music is actually his background music when he’s just lazing around. words cannot express how much he dislikes (hates) wardens omg. he’ll protect you from them but if there were diamonds behind a warden, ig he’s going somewhere else😭 kazuha gives you random shit, weather that be something really sweet or questionable…

“love, do you want my rotten flesh? here<3 oh! and, i also got you some steak, you’re low on hearts…”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

KAEYA

╰┈➤ he’s heard of it, watched people play, just never played it. but when he does… he’s a menace. kaeya got his hands on flint and steel and set an entire jungle on fire… but he can be sweet sometimes! you’re the one protecting his ass while he walks around at night UNARMED to gather blue flowers for you. like you’re cute, but take a shield or something😭 he’s jumped off of a tall building before and landed on half a heart for a stack of bread you didn’t want. he’s rather oblivious to the mobs around him, he once thought shulkers were friends because they were just “silly little guys in little boxes” yk until they almost killed him. you bought him his own skin and introduced him to parrots and now its his favorite animal, he looks like a pirate!!! kaeya is chaotically sweet.

“yes, you almost died protecting me but how could you resist my everlasting love plus pixelated blue flowers?”

(has a cat unironically named ice spice LMFAO)

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

SHIKANOIN HEIZOU

╰┈➤ your boyfriend is good at literally anything else BUT minecraft. its the way this game constantly has it out for him too like what did bro do??🙁 heizou stream’s with kazuha every now and again and on those, he still doesn’t know what to do… he’d rather play on the servers, bedwars in particular. extremely good at bw, you’d rather NOT be his enemy😭😭 wins almost every single game even when he carries, rank 98 in the server. yet when it comes to a casual server between you and him, the chats are filled with his deaths and his hashtagged rages💀 heizou despises silverfish which is also why he hates going into strongholds, they could get stomped on for all he cares! >:( he has texture packs with really beautiful skies and then a picnic mod so he can stargaze with you and eats minecraft cake :(<3

“oh. babe, green is heading for our bed, no pressure or anything. i loovveee youuu😚”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

XIAO

╰┈➤ xiao has the MOST downloaded mod packs, shaders, and worlds. not very expensive mod packs most of the time but when they are, they’re always good. spends his time fighting off mobs at night, #1 totem holder. he even has his own custom skin!!! he’s kinda been waiting for you to ask so when you do play mc together, you already have your own room, but when you voluntarily move your bed into his room to sleep… he melts. xiao loves cuddling while the two of you play, he’d rather your arms around him than the other way around, feels more intimate. you have matching hoodies for occasions like this. he has the dragon mod pack and has his own golden and orange dragon named ‘li’. he doesn’t talk while gaming, curses silently when he gets hit, but other than that doesn’t talk. if you want to talk, he’ll listen, he likes hearing about your day :].

“no, keep talking. i’m listening. see, li’s listening too.”

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 68 | Part 69 | Part 70

Lmao nice.

Side note- I know I’ve been more active on Tumblr as of recently, though I haven’t been posting more of this fic. I think I needed that hiatus more than I thought I did. Trying to keep up the posting schedule I had was draining me too much, and I was overwhelmed. So I’m going to do things a little different after this fic. For starters, if you’re not following #starambles, please do if you want to keep up with what I’m writing. That’s my writing tag. I also link everything in my masterlist. I’ll have separate fic tags for each multi-chapter fic, but I will no longer be doing taglists. This does not apply to IISS: I will complete this fic with the taglist it’s amassed. However, I will no longer be adhering to my previous schedule. Instead I will post whenever I’m ready to. It may take a while, but I figure if it’s this or no more IISS, the answer would be this. If you would like to be removed from the taglist, that’s completely fine; just let me know! Also someone please confirm this tagged you in the correct way. Thank you for understanding.

Steve takes stock of himself, smiles a little as he says, “I am, yeah.” He’s a little surprised, but only a little. Eddie’s proven himself great at getting Steve out of his head. “Thank you.”

Eddie gently squeezes his hand. “Wanna stay up here a little longer, before we face the circus downstairs?”

Steve hums. “You can go back down, if you want.”

“You do that a lot.”

Steve blinks. “What?”

“You do that a lot. You put everyone else’s comfort before your own.”

Steve shrugs. “I’m good at going without. I don’t need a lot.”

Eddie leans his head back with a sigh. “I’ve got a feeling going back in time will change that. Now you’ve got me and Alli to tell you when you’re being a self-sacrificing idiot.”

Steve winces. Covers it up with a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Eddie looks at him, brows furrowed. “What?”

Steve shakes his head. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not. Steve.”

Steve tilts his head back, squeezes his eyes shut. “Just. It won’t make sense, in this time, because half of it hasn’t happened yet, but you’ve known Dustin for all of a day and I’m willing to bet you already know how he’d act when I don’t know something he does. And-” he takes a breath. It only stutters a little. “Nancy. It was- she meant it in a sweet way, y’know? But she’d tell me, you’re an idiot, Steve Harrington. And… I know I’m not the smartest. I know there’s obvious things that I miss all the time. And I can only blame so much of it on the concussions, y’know? But at the same time… I’m not actually stupid. Impulsive, maybe, sometimes, but I do have a brain that actually works most of the time. So.” He shrugs. “I dunno. I just don’t like being called an idiot.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. Sorry, Stevie.”

“‘S okay. You didn’t know.”

“No, but I should know better than to call people stupid. Wayne would box my ears for that. In fact, I think I’ll go downstairs right now, ask him to remind me.” He makes to get up, but Steve, laughing, pulls him back down.

“Don’t you dare,” Steve chuckles. “I like your ears un-boxed, thank you.”

“Okay,” Eddie agrees. “I’m not gonna call you that again. How’s asshole sound? Self-sacrificing asshole has a nice ring to it.”

Steve collapses in giggles. “I guess if I deserve it.”

“You do,” Eddie promises him, then grumbles to himself. “Trying to get me to go downstairs, I swear.”

Steve giggles some more. “Okay, I get it,” he swears. “I’d like to stay up here for a few more minutes, then we can go back downstairs.”

“Okay.” Eddie grins at him. “I’ve got a couple ideas on how we could spend a few more minutes.”

“Oh?” Steve asks, leaning closer. “And what would that be?”

“I think you know,” Eddie murmurs, close enough to Steve that he’s practically speaking into Steve’s mouth.

Neither of them mind, clearly, because in the next second they’re kissing, Steve’s hands on Eddie’s shoulders for stability, Eddie’s hands gently stroking Steve’s back, up and down, up and down. He moves out a little and grabs at Steve’s hips, and Steve hums into his mouth. Eddie grins into the kiss, so in retaliation Steve twines a hand into Eddie’s hair.

Eddie gently bites Steve’s tongue, and Steve holds in the noise that wants to come out. He gently pulls back instead. “Eddie,” he murmurs. “We should stop.”

Eddie sighs and rests his forehead on Steve’s collarbone. “Yeah. Sorry.”

Steve snorts. “I’m not. I like what we just did. But I also know we should get back downstairs soon.”

Eddie hums in agreement. “Yeah. Lemme just sit here for a minute and think about, like, grandmas with dentures, or something.”

Steve laughs. “That’s probably a good idea,” he admits. He shifts, rests his back against the bed again, sighs. Smiles when Eddie grabs his hand again. “I’m glad you’re here with me.” He pauses, just long enough for Eddie to start to fidget, before finishing with a smile. “Here at the end of all things, Eds.”

Eddie groans and flops over on top of Steve. “And you know Lord of the Rings? Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Fly?” Steve asks, which causes Eddie to laugh.

“Nah,” he says, rolling so his head is pillowed on Steve’s lap. “I think you could just ask gravity not to work and it would let you fly.”

Steve snorts and cards his fingers through Eddie’s hair. “I think you’re biased.”

“I can be biased and right.”

Steve just hums. “Your hair is surprisingly soft.”

Eddie blinks. “Um. Thanks?”

Steve chuckles. “I just mean it’s surprising because of how frizzy it is.

Eddie snickers. “You want to take care of it, don’t you?”

“So bad,” Steve agrees, also laughing. “Your choice, though.”

Eddie smiles. “Maybe once the chaos has calmed down?”

“Sure.” Steve sighs. “Ready to go downstairs?”

“I’m ready whenever you are.”

Steve smiles. “Then let’s go.”

Eddie rolls off of him so Steve can stand. He then offers Eddie a hand up.

“Wait,” Steve requests, right as Eddie’s reaching for the doorknob.

Eddie pulls back, turns to Steve. “Yeah?”

“Kiss first?”

“Kiss always,” Eddie agrees, and happily leans in.

After they pull apart, there’s a knock at the door, and a tentative voice. “Steve? Eddie?”

It’s Dustin.

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