#need to fix my old one first tbh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darlingdaisyfarm · 27 days ago

Text

₊˚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.”

#gravity falls #x reader #gravity falls smut #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you #ford pines x reader #ford pines smut #stanford pines #ford pines x you #stanford pines x you #stanford pines x reader #gravity falls fanfiction #grunkle ford #ford pines x oc

211 notes · View notes

xoxochb · 3 months ago

Note

Okay it may or may not be a little early for the Halloween fic request..(not it’s not it’s never too early) BUTT.. maybe a fix based on Percy and Aphrodite!reader taking Estelle to trick or treat(maybe reader and percy have some cute matching costumes dunno tbh), and some old lady comes up to them and is like “omg your daughter is so cute!” insert me giggling and twirling my hair

— trick r treat

warnings: none? pairing: percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite a/n: never to early for halloween!!!

usually you would have stayed at camp year round, help with the younger campers, clean out your cabin, or enjoy the peace while most others went back home for the winter. this year you didn’t stick around, you had been invited by your boyfriend to spend the coke months with him and his family, and who were you to decline that offer? halloween was the first holiday you would be celebrating with him this year. you had begged and searched for matching costumes until you thought of the perfect pair: romeo and juliet, a tragic love story and as a child of aphrodite was one of your favorite plays. percy, of course, could not say no to you so you allowed your idea to come to life

as you were what older people would classify as ‘too old’ to trick or treat (absolute bullshit, you’re never too old) you needed a child to accompany you— which was perfect because you got to bring little estelle with you. an angel, she was. especially when she accepted to make excuses to get more candy for you and percy

you crouch down to her height now fixing her red haired wig from her ariel costume. you say, “come right back” and kiss her forehead before ushering her to the next door to retrieve her candy. you walk back to percy who takes your hand to pull you into him, then snaking his arm around your waist to keep you in place

“Is this child labour?” you question, lifting your head to look at him

percy shakes his head. “If she enjoys it then no”

you laugh, then an older lady comes up to you with a smile. “you’re daughter is just a doll!”

your brows furrow and you open your mouth to correct her but she laughs softly and walks away

“she thinks we’re old enough to have kids. I’m personally offended by that” you pout

“you do act like her mother”

“because I’m in charge of her, dumbass”

percy kisses the top of your head and mutters, “you’d make a great mom”

the statement sends your head into a whirlwind— the image of you and percy older with a child of your own, your stomach erupts in butterflies instantly

“yeah?”

“yeah. we’d make a cute kid, too”

his statement was proven correct four years later, your daughter indeed the cutest kid

#xoxochb #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #percy series #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jakson

286 notes · View notes

kozachenko · 11 months ago

Text

I swear to god, Zanmu has just been on my mind recently, she's taking over my fucking brain please send help

Artist's Note:

Why is it that everytime I do a drawing of Zanmu I always make the canvas size fucking huge and it ends up being a living nightmare to fucking export. I swear to god I had to go from 1200 DPI to 600 to 350.

Exporting hell aside, I loved working on this piece. With Zanmu's design, I wanted to combine all the design details that I love and have seen in other people's drawings of Zanmu and give them my own personal touches. First of all, her sleeves were inspired by @amemenojaku's design for Zanmu, and I absolutley love that detail because not only does it make her feel more regal, it also can be a callback to Satori and old hell, and also gives me the idea that Satori's fashion sense was inspired by Zanmu because IRL a lot of historical fashion was inspired by what the nobles were wearing at the time, and since Satori was around since when Old Hell used to be Hell, she probably took some wardrobe inspo from her (or it could be my headcanon that Satori could've been Zanmu's royal advisor or she was in her court or something but that theory is kinda grasping at strings from other headcanons I have, but that's for a different post). Also, the eye makeup she has was inspired by @jothelion's drawings of Zanmu, and like, I fucking love that detail because it just adds so much like omg I just love it sm.

And now for the design details I put in. I gave Zanmu tassel earrings because I think they'd look great on her. I also really like to exaggerate her hair and really try to make it look wild, as well as having little grey hairs here and there. I also try to add some wrinkles to the corners of her eyes, but TBH I don't know how visible that detail is, since the image is pretty fucking big. I also really exaggerated the tassles/strings on her outfit, since I really wanted to play around with the potential flow they could have. Also, big fan of giving Zanmu longer sleeves and pants. IDK why but I just like how it flows better. Also big fan of making her taller, idk why a lot of fanart makes her short. Also, I placed her horns closer to the front of her head as I just think placing horns in that position looks cool.

Also, if you're wondering about the halo, I took some inspiration from a few of Caravaggio's paintings where he often depicts saints with this very thin halo around the top of their heads. I just liked that detail a lot so I thought I'd include it.

Fun fact, I was originally gonna make the four skeletons Chiyari, Biten, Enoko, and Hisami but I didn't like the prospect of having to draw four more characters, so I chose to replace them with skeletons (if you wanna get silly with it, Zanmu got Hisami to kidnap Aya, set up some skeletons with bones from her bone collection and told her to take a picture of her).

I kinda gave up on Zanmu's feet and the one skeleton's hands (as if drawing hands normally is hard enough but NOPE, HAD TO MAKE IT LIVING HELL FOR MYSELF BY MAKING IT A SKELETON) and the quality of the image may suffer because of how much I had to fucking compress it (Zanmu's presence alone was enough to make the computer lose all of it's desire and motivation to export the drawing of her lmao), but I have been hacking at this piece for a while now, plus I need to learn when to call it quits when it comes to drawings). Also as I was fixing up the hands there was one spot where I forgot to clean up with the sketch and I can't fucking unsee that now and it's going to fucking bother me until I fix it but fixing it requires going back and putting my computer through hell so yeah.

So yeah, that's about all I have to say with this drawing, it was fun but also a nightmare lol

#art #touhou project #fanart #touhou fanart #touhou 19 #unfinished dream of all living ghost #zanmu nippaku #touhou #東方project #東方

541 notes · View notes

extra-v1rgin · 8 months ago

Text

Alrightttt bitches come get ur food

Alpha!Kokushibo & Omega!Reader

Tbh I don’t think this is omegaversy enough…. I must fix this in the future

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

Fellow demons coming to you is… not rare, but not necessarily common. Heats and Ruts (and occasionally just a horny beta) seem to bring demons together. They sniff out the smallest hints in your scent that mark you as a demon, and fuck you senseless. Most demons can’t keep a human partner alive long enough to satisfy them. Cycles seem to triumph over a demons territorials needs. After the rut has ended they’re often quick to leave. Some weak fools are quick to fight but that just means you get a good meal, at least a bite or two. Then you can go back to seducing humans until someone else stumbles upon your shack.

Most demons that find you are at a similar strength level. You don’t know why things work out like that, perhaps something instinctual. It’s nice that you can protect yourself from unwanted visitors or teeth that get too curious. You fall into the routine of strangers easily.

When an upper moon shows up at your door you’re worried you might die. You’re too focused on the overwhelming taste of his power to read his pheromones properly.

Pulling your robe tighter around your body you scramble to bow before the man. You don’t speak, the demon is old. He’s old enough that he likely holds archaic ideas about how omega’s should behave.

His feet move into your narrow field of vision. “Look at me,” the upper moon commands. Slowly— and still kneeling —you raise your head.

Upper moon one is carved into his eyes, two of them at least (you focus on the middle set). You didn’t expect someone so highly ranked though it makes sense given the weight in his words.

“I need someone to assist me with an upcoming cycle.” You could already taste it in the air after having a moment to properly breathe. Deep underneath the rich and dark smell of strength is a hint of spice that makes your nose itch. Most demons visit you when they’re right on the precipice of falling into a rut, sometimes even a few days into it. They’re desperate, no time for pleasant conversation. The upper moon still has at least a day before he’ll be truly affected by the hormones.

You’re still scared to respond vocally so instead you simply nod. The thought of having to be on your best behavior for the next few days— while getting fucked out of your mind —was terrifying.

“You can relax. Do as you must.”

You take that as a cure to move freely, speak even. If he’s insane enough to kill you for this then you would’ve died soon enough anyways. You may be good at playing obedient but at heart you can only manage for so long. Most demons don’t mind having a partner who occasionally snaps back, but an upper moon likely has more options available. It makes you wonder why he chose to come to you in the first place.

The man is still standing and you rise up. You move slowly, watching for any signs of displeasure. “Thank you for gracing me with your presence, alpha.”

“Kokushibo.”

“Hm?”

“My name, use it.”

“Of course Kokushibo-alpha.” You push sone seduction into your words. “Can I come closer?”

“Yes.” You try not to be put off by his flat tone and simple language.

Crossing your way over to him you take in more of his appearance. His eyes are a bit scary but the rest of his body is relatively normal. You suspect there’s nice muscles hidden under his thick robes but it’s too loose to tell for sure.

“You’re handsome,” you purr. The man stands stiffly. Even when you reach out a hand to run your fingers over his broad chest he doesn’t react.

“Let’s get started.” Kokushibo steps forward while brushing you to the side. He stands at the edge of the futon and begins to undress methodically. Even when you step into his view the demon does not glance your way.

With a huff you begin to undress. You don’t put any effort into stripping, simply ripping off your clothes. The air feels cold and soon after revealing your body you crawl into the futon.

Kokushibo takes a much longer time undressing. He wears more proper clothes than your thin robe, meaning there’s several layers to remove. You stare and admire his physique as it’s slowly revealed. The man’s body is much more pleasant than his attitude. Sparse hair covers his large chest, which leads down to toned abs.

There’s no shyness about nudity. The upper moon does not hesitate to remove his fundoshi. At this point his cock is still mostly flaccid but it’s sizable and pretty enough. His hair is neatly trimmed, something you’ve only seen one or two other men do. It’s a nice look.

You feel some excitement grow within you again. As he peels off the comforter you eagerly turn onto your stomach.

“Present,” He commands. Your ass pushes into the air as a pleased noise leaves your throat. A warm hand runs over your hips and around until fingers pry your thighs apart and reveal your cunt. It’s not soaking given Kokushibo’s less than sexy personality but the pheromones in the air have left you at least damp.

He wastes no time at this point. The man fishes out a bottle of oil and pumps his cock to full hardness. There’s no announcement before he slips a finger into your cunt, testing how eager you are to receive. You squeal at the cold digit entering you. It’s not a sound of pleasure.

“Don’t you know how to treat an omega?” Your position wavers slightly, though you don’t dare break it. On some level you know this demon could kill you in the blink of an eye.

“Is this not pleasurable?” There’s maybe a hint of surprise in his voice but mostly it’s flat.

You grumble and put your face back into the pillows. “It’s fine.” You can survive a mediocre fuck. Once his knot is popping inside of your cunt it’ll feel good no matter what. Bearing through foreplay is just a necessary step.

Kokushibo’s finger still sits inside of you. Slowly he pushes his finger in deeper before pulling it out. “Is that better?”

“I said it’s fine.” You try to keep your tone light. “My job is to make you feel good alpha.” Dipping back into seductive stance you arch your back more to stick your ass in the air.

The upper moon stills for a moment. You hold your breath, ready to get slapped or killed maybe. Kokushibo’s movements are unclear behind you. It actually doesn’t seem like he’s moving at all which only confuses you more.

“You are to answer my questions truthfully.” With the confusing statement you dare to glance back at him. He’s wiped his fingers clean.

“Sit,” he commands when he notices your eyes looking towards him. You slowly move to a stiff seiza. It feels odd with the cool air still blowing around your naked form. You’re forced to stare at your sloping breasts as you keep your eyes turned downwards. “You understand what I’m asking for?”

“Yes alpha.”

“Did it not feel good, when I put my finger in?”

You resist the urge to answer with ‘it’s fine’ again. You also resist the urge to laugh. For all your partners you’ve never been interrogated about sex before. “It was cold.” The answer is simple. His claws were a little scary too but when you’re dealing with demons you get used to them.

He nods with a surprisingly thoughtful look. “You were not… wet before either.” Kokushibo is hesitant to use such vulgar language. The fact that he does anyways helps you relax a little. You suppose even centuries old demons can have an interest in good sex.

“Ah well, that’s because there wasn’t any foreplay.” You don’t have the same hesitation when it comes to sex. This is most of your life after all.

Kokushibo nodded again. He was quiet for a moment afterwards. You weren’t sure what he could be thinking about.

“I shall follow your instructions then, for now.”

You’re… shocked isn’t quite the right word. Maybe you’re aroused by his agreeable nature.

“Can I kiss you Kokushibo-alpha?”

He blinks with all three sets of eyes. “If that will make this more pleasurable.” You take it as a yes.

You’re still aware of his hard cock sitting between his legs and chose to straddle one of his thighs.

You sit closer to his face now. His eyes are all focused on your face, making you nervous. You notice the thin webs scattered across his irises.

Either the upper moon doesn’t mind your staring or is very patient. As he blinks again, this time with the bottom set alone, you’re stirred out of your trance. Your face warms with slight embarrassment at standing still for so long.

You move one hand to rest on his shoulder. Slowly you move forward to press your lips against his.

The first kiss is chaste and hesitant. You’re cautious of the eyes right next to his mouth but they shut when you come close. His long lashes tickle your cheeks.

As you get used to the shape of his face you move with more confidence. Kokushibo does kiss you back though it feels like a mechanical movement rather than something driven by attraction.

“Can you touch me?” You move to guide his hand towards your bare chest but the man quickly jerks away.

“You are making requests, not demands,” He’s harsh in reminding you. You duck your head, silent for a moment, maybe a little embarrassed too.

Eventually Kokushibo moves on his own accord, grabbing your breast. His hand is big enough to envelope the fat easily. Caught off guard you let out a surprised moan. The man’s hand is calloused, unusual for a demon.

He seems pleased by your reaction, repeating the motion. His other hand moves to grab your chin, squeezing your cheeks and forcing you to look back up at him.

Feeling far more aroused now wetness builds in your cunt. Kokushibo continues to manipulate your chest, grabbing it roughly and pinching your nipples. The whole time he watches you with an even look. It’s still a little disturbing but exciting too. He remains solid as stone even while you buck and moan on his lap. You’ve never met an alpha with even an ounce of the self control Kokushibo displays.

“A-alpha, can you touch my cunt please?” You lean back the smallest amount, hoping it’s enough to display how slick you’ve gotten.

“Why am I doing all the work?” He doesn’t let go of your chest but his grip loosens. “Show me your skills.”

Your hands wander to his cock, feeling the weight of it. He’s well endowed even among other alphas. You slide your palm down to the base of his cock. His knot will be big. Your pussy drools a little more at the thought of it expanding inside of you.

Kokushibo hums in approval. You move back upwards to run your palm against his slit. His hand moves away from your breast so he can lean backwards. You’re sad at the loss of pleasure but you’re not about to voice any complaints.

When you slip off of his lap upper moon one gives you a strange look but does not stop you at all. Since he only kneels you must lie down to rest your head on his lap. At first you continue with your hands alone. His cock looks even more threatening up close, covered in veins with wild brown hair at the base.

Slowly you begin to put your mouth to use. One hand guides Kokushibo’s grip into your hair. He does not reprimand you this time, hopefully pleased by your motions. First you start with sloppy kisses and licks down his shaft. After you’re quick to take the head into your mouth and drool over it.

The demon continues to offer little reaction which only fuels you to attempt to swallow more of his length. Halfway down you get another soft hum and at the base you’re rewarded with a satisfied groan.

Though Kokushibo grips your hair he doesn’t attempt to guide you. You’re not used to setting your own pace but it’s a nice change. Your throat is still impacted but with a slower pace you can slide down to engulf him easier. When you reach the base your tongue slides out to taste the loose skin of his knot. You wonder if he’d like to cum like this or if you can convince the man to knot your cunt right now.

You try to slide off all the way to present yourself again but the grip on your hear tightens when you try to lift your head. You must look up at Kokushibo through wet lashes. His expression is mostly the same neutral mask but there’s maybe a twitch his lips.

With only a slight pause you sink back down onto his cock. His grip on your hair loosens once more to let you move on your own. It seems he’s satisfied as long as you keep your lips on his cock. Even when you slow Kokushibo’s hand remains flat against your head and follows your movements. You keep your pace quick anyways. At this point your cunt is soaking and needy.

When you press yourself all the way to the base of his dick and hold yourself there the length twitches in your throat. You repeat the motion several times to similar results.

It’s hard to hear anything over the wet sounds of your mouth but if you listen carefully Kokushibo’s breathing has picked up. Sometimes it stutters and stops until you pull back again.

Taking the noises as an encouragement you speed up slightly. Hopefully after the man has cum once you can get something in return.

The upper moon’s knot swells slightly without warning. It’s not a proper knot but your mouth still stretches wide to fit it. It only takes another moment until his seed is spilling down your throat.

Kokushibo growls and bends over you. Both his hands find a place in your hair. His hips thrust like it’s possible to be any deeper inside of you.

When he’s finished his body relaxes once more. Your throat stings as you pull back slowly. Once your mouth is free you drop your head into his lap. His hand moves through your hair, unintentionally perhaps, and it brings a soft noise out of your sore throat.

Kokushibo doesn’t seem in a hurry to fuck you. Will your head lies in his lap the demon sits still. The quiet is enough to bring you close to sleep. When Kokushibo notices your eyes half-closed he nudges your cheek with his knuckles.

You blink a few times, leaning back to sit up. Your throat feels fine now but you keep quiet.

“Present… again.”

You’re a little slower to turn around this time. When it comes to form you put all your energy there.

The lube still lingering on Kokushibo’s fingers is tacky and thin but your cunt is wet enough that the digit easily sinks into you. His hands move slower this time. The demon plunges his single finger in and out a few times to test your walls. It’s still not much stimulation but you’re eager now to receive his touches.

When a second finger enters he doesn’t immediately spear you open like before. His wrist rotates and digits curl until you’re panting and thrusting your ass higher.

Three fingers add up to a rather nice thickness. You could easily take more but the slow pace lets you fully absorb the pleasure given. When Kokushibo stretches his fingers out to pry your walls open a loud mewl falls through your lips.

The man pulls back for a brief moment. Slick drips from your cunt and smears over your thighs. A large hand envelopes your ass and pulls it to the side to further expose your pussy. You expect him to start spreading you open with his cock but there’s too long of a pause.

Breathing slowly you resist the urge to turn around. In your mind you begin to count to ten.

At six a wet kiss is pushed into your cunt. Your eyes blow wide open as you squeal with surprise. His free hand grips onto your waist. Holding you in place Kokushibo continues to manipulate your cunt with his tongue. What starts out as messing with the inner corners of your labia quickly turns into a wet muscle finding its way inside of you. Though Kokushibo moves quickly he is not chaotic. He knows you’re excited enough to easily accept the intrusion. After his fingers a tongue is almost too small.

It’s been a long time since you’ve had a partner give you pleasure without receiving something in turn. Though you do have a feeling Kokushibo is receiving his own kind of fun from this. You can easily guess that he is not the kind of person to do things for no reason. Other than that your brain is too busy being lit up with pleasure to consider the matter further.

“Alpha, K-kokushib-uh Alpha.” You try to move back on his face but you’re held firmly in place. His tongue plunges into your pussy and drinks up your slick. The appendage might not be thick but it’s unusually long (maybe even stretching as it explores) and reaches deep inside of you. The thin tip sweeps around your core until it brushes against your g-spot. You’re letting out a soft string of moans with each stroke of your walls.

It doesn’t take long until you’re hovering on the edge of an orgasm. Kokushibo is not messy or wild but the methodical nature of his tongue is much better. His one purpose is to make you cum and he will accomplish the task. The alternative of a typical partner— who wouldn’t even touch your cunt in the first place —would be desperate grinding until they spill into your pussy. In some cases they can’t make it that far. Most are sad excuses for demons and even sadder excuses for alpha’s. Kokushibo is quite literally a prime example of both.

You attempt to grind back onto his face again (This time slightly mote successfully) with a desperate noise. “Can-nuh cum alpha… please?” If he says no you might cry.

When he doesn’t answer at all you are trapped in purgatory. If you knew the man better, knew the punishment he’d dole out, you might take the chance to cum anyways. Kokushibo has certainly been a nice partner thus far but you wouldn’t like to test him. If anything you’d hope to keep his mood constant.

You nearly bite off your tongue in a desperate attempt not to cum. It’s much harder to even open your mouth now so your begging turns into unintelligible whimpers. Other than managing a few cut off cries for “alpha” and “Kokushibo” (both of which devolve into more moans) you can’t string together real sentences.

As your mouth is filled with more blood and you might pass out from holding yourself back too hard the upper moon pulls back for a brief moment. “You may cum when you’d like.” He gives permission like he’s talking about the weather.

You can’t even properly treasure your orgasm as it rips through your body. Kokushibo moves slightly faster to draw out you release. You lie limp on the futon, only twitching as your walls are continuously stroked.

When he pulls back and your hips are released you can’t keep yourself presented. You falls down into the soft cushion and make a few weak noises. “Thank you Kokushibo-alpha.” Your words are muffled through squished cheeks and drool.

The upper moon seems unsure of how to proceed. He doesn’t touch you for too long and when you glance back Kokushibo is simply sitting back in seiza.

“S-sorry I can…” Your bones crack as you push yourself back onto your hands and knees. As you move the feeling of cold slick smeared over your thighs makes you shiver.

His hand moves over your back and guides your ass even higher. A quick swipe of the futon between your legs wipes away excess wetness. You shudder at the uncomfortable feeling of slime dragging through your legs.

Afterwards though Kokushibo angles his hips behind your own and his cock brushes over your inner thigh. The warmth is a welcome change and true excitement warms your stomach.

When Kokushibo finally coaxes his cock into you the fit is impossibly tight. You wonder if the earlier cunnilingus was simply to get you squeezing down as tightly as possible. Giving up on doing any work you lie there limply while he slowly fucks in and out. The man doesn’t seem to mind that he’s doing virtually all the work. You suppose he might even enjoy it as a show of strength. To encourage him you exaggerate some of your moans. He slowly speeds up as you whine and grip at the sheets.

“It’s better this time,” he comments casually. You can’t think of an intelligent response, just humming in agreement.

His cock is a large thing. Even beyond his knot there unnatural bulbous bumps on the side that drag along your cunt. You wonder if a demon with so much power could intentionally make his anatomy more attractive to the other sex. Intentional or not it certainly does make you more excited. The head is large and kisses your cervix on particularly deep thrusts. It’s one of the nicer cocks you’ve had. Really Kokushibo has a lot of beauty compared to a typical demon’s features. You can’t see his body much as he slams into you from behind but when the opportunity presents itself you’ll certainly take it.

“O-oh Alpha.” The upper moon’s knot bulges and expands even further. You’re not close enough to cum on his knot but feeling of him stretching you out is still wonderful. With Kokushibo fucking you with less coordination you decide to finally put in some work. It’s hard to time your backward movements with heavy slaps against your ass but with experience you manage to meet some of his thrusts.

Kokushibo groans loudly now as he sinks into you. In hopes to move even deeper some of his weight is laid over your back. His breath echoes against your ear and tickles your neck. Long strands of auburn hair mix with your own.

There’s little warning before Kokushibo’s hips stall as his seed dumps into you. His knot isn’t fully expanded, much to your disappointment, but that doesn’t affect the force of his orgasm. If you were still human you’d surely be pregnant from the copious amount of seed pouring into your cunt. Some of it slips out and cools against your legs. The feeling makes you whine, long and high. It draws the man’s attention to his escaping seed. With a low growl he pushes the semen back inside your walls. The addition of a thick finger besides his half inflated knot shocks more arousal out of you.

The knot is just small enough that Kokushibo could pull away from you if he really tried but he stays stuck against your back. After a few quiet moments of breathing the man scoops you up and lies you on your side. Even without a full knot he intends on treating you with some amount of grace. You manage a soft purr which seems to please Kokushibo well enough.

Without another orgasm of your own or a proper knot having a warm body against your back is frustratingly arousing. Some sensation against your inner walls and the occasional twitch of his dick drags out your pleasure just enough to keep it active. When you try to roll your hips Kokushibo growls again. His teeth barely scrape against the back of neck. It’s meant to be a warning but the action only sends another hot wave through your stomach. You breathe slowly to keep your hips still.

He keeps hands dug into your waist even when you sit still for a few minutes. You’re not sure if he intends to rest or simply wants to assert more dominance. It’s hard to relax between stray sparks of arousal burning in your stomach. Whenever you’re calm enough to relax Kokushibo twitches (or his cock does) and you’re shocked back awake. Trying to whine or voice your discomfort only results in getting hushed once more.

—-

At some point you must’ve managed to fall asleep because you’re jerking awake as Kokushibo finally pulls away from you. The smell of his rut is stronger now, it’s been a few hours since your initial coupling at least. Lingering sleep drowns any arousal you might have felt from his hard cock dragging through your walls. “Are we goin’ again?” Your mumbling doesn’t help to urge your brain any more awake.

“Don’t move.” It’s not an answer but you listen anyways. Falling back into the futon you happily let your eyes slip shut once more. Faintly you’re aware of how Kokushibo moves behind you but you’re unbothered by it.

After a few seconds stretch out with no noise you manage to slide your eyes open once more. With a small glance behind yourself you see Kokushibo pulling out a new set of sheets. You sit up properly and peel the old dirty sheets off yourself. “I can help.”

The demon fixes you with a look that pins you back in place. “It’s fine.” The words are plain but you feel sheepish anyways. You feel guilt watching the man dig through your closer but following the orders you tuck yourself back into the warm (albiet a little bit gross) blankets.

It’s easy to fall limp in the comforting futon. Your guilt is easily erased by sleep pulling at your mind.

Kokushibo lifts you and you’re happy to curl up in his arms. He only carries you for a brief moment buy you’re struck by how gentle his hold is. After being deposited onto the new sheets you listen to the man get rid of the old sheets. The new ones are much cleaner and soft. There’s no crusty or wet spots you have to avoid.

“Won’t the sheets just get ruined again?”

“It’s fine.” You give a noncommittal hum to his noncommittal answer. You’re not sure if he has some other plan or just wanted fresh sheets to lie in before his rut started but either way the change is nice.

Faintly you hear your door click open and snap shut. For a moment you worry Kokushibo might’ve wanted a quick fuck before finding a true rut partner. When you sit up and look around the sight of the man’s robe calms you.

It turns out that there was no need to worry after all as Kokushibo is gone for less than an hour. He comes back with a stout woman in his arms, one of her legs already gone.

You watch him bundle her body into the filthy sheets to soak up some of her leaking blood. The man eats as elegantly as he does everything else. Long fingers tear the skin from muscle and bring it to his mouth without smearing any blood on his face. You don’t dare to take anything without permission but the smell of meat makes your mouth fill with saliva.

When Kokushibo leaves a hand on the filthy futon within your reach you still don’t move. Upper moons may be more capable of conversation but you’re still not eager to get between a demon and its food.

“Eat.” With his allowance you try your best to finish off the hand as elegantly as Kokushibo does. Already blood and flesh moves to hide under your fingernails. You keep your eyes averted as you suck on your fingers to pull out each bit of meat. If Kokushibo judges, or even sees you, he does not voice any disgust.

The hand is not particularly large but it is satisfying enough for the moment. You even crush the bones between your molars and grind fingernails into dust. There’s some blood smudged on the corners of your lips that you try to lap up as smoothly as possible. You shoot another cursory glance to Kokushibo to see that he has devoured half a leg. Still there are no stains or blemishes on his smooth skin.

“Do you have a bath?”

You perk up once more. “Yes! Would you like me to prepare you one?”

“Take one.” Whether the phrase is intended to be insulting or not your cheeks burn. Without a look towards him you nod and shuffle off towards the bathroom.

The water pump that guides clean water towards your bath is cold but you have no urge to heat it. You clean yourself quickly and methodically. It seems whatever tenderness you had brought out during sex was gone now. You can only hope that when he fucks you again the attentive nature will come back.

With a quick run of fingers through your hair you step back out into the room. It’s only been a handful of minutes but Kokushibo has sliced the women’s body up into fragments and wrapped them up into pieces of fabric. You’re still slightly soaking but when eyes dart over towards your wet form there’s no displeasure in them.

“What would you like me to do now?”

“I’m tired.” Kokushibo sounds like his age, an ornery old man. You supposed that there’s a chance he didn’t sleep while you were but to hear him express any weariness. “You can do what you’d like but stay clean, and don’t touch the food.” His large form passes beside you and falls into the new futon you have set out. You hope he doesn’t intend on changing the sheets anytime you fuck. There’s only one more set in the closet.

Whether Kokushibo actually intends on sleeping or not you move back towards the bathroom. If you knew he didn’t intend to fuck you right now you’ve would’ve enjoyed some warmth, which is what you intend to do.

—-

You’ve fallen asleep on a scrap of the futon. Leaning into Kokushibo’s side seemed like an odd, perhaps slightly scary, choice. With a large soft robe you didn’t mind the lack of coverage from the actual blanket.

It’s not clear how many hours have passed, your thick walls with no windows aren’t very good for telling time. When Kokushibo wakes you he nudges you with a bit of feverish urge. His scent in the air is much more overbearing now. Each breath of air encapsulates heavy spice.

Already the demon’s tongue glides over your bare skin. Half your robe has been slid off your body to expose your breasts. Hands wrap around your form to bring you closer to him.

Your tired brain struggles to catch up to his actions but the gentle touches are welcome. Another hand pushes down the rest of your robe and leaves you nude again. Kokushibo is naked too, which you realize after his cock slaps against your thigh.

With his rut in full swing he doesn’t waste time with talk. Teeth nip the side of your neck, right over your scent gland, but don’t quite break skin. It’s enough to make you shudder still and jerk your hips backwards.

His thick dick slides over your ass and the stimulation pushes a rough growl from his throat. With strong hands he pulls you into the center of the futon and lifts your ass high.

Though there was a distinct lack of foreplay when a finger probes your insides this time you’re soaked. With only a minute or two of his scent filling your nose it’s awoken your own needs.

Kokushibo mounts you quickly enough. With a few quick thrusts he plants his whole cock inside of you. “Mgh- Alpha!” You were plenty wet but the insertion of his cock stretches you wide.

This fucking is much quicker, both of you cumming in quick succession. Again his knot doesn’t quite fill out completely which leaves you moaning with frustration. The skin that does fill you up should be satisfying enough but knowing there’s more that is left for you makes your cunt ache.

There are no words exchanged. Kokushibo does not eat or order you to bathe again. The demon simply drags your hips with his own movements and lies back down.

—-

Eventually even Kokushibo gets lost in the daze of his rut. At that point you’re equally drunk on the pheromones, too dizzy to process what’s going on either. You wake up, fuck, chew on the bones to try and get more substance from them, and fall back asleep. The man looses most of his finesse a few days in, but any type of stimulation ignites arousal in your body. Even when he’s not fucking you, hands over your hips or stomach burn with his touch.

When you’re finally knotted properly you nearly scream. The feeling of his thick knot filling you up fully is like pure heaven. It beats out every other partner than has even seen your cunt. A full fist couldn’t compare to the girth of Kokushibo’s stable knot.

The upper moon insists on having you present properly. A position in which his cock buries deep inside you. The only exception is lazy fucking while you lie on your side. When you’re barely awake or almost asleep the alpha is almost sensitive to your needs. Though he tries the fucking usually ends up with your face buried into a pillow, sometimes nearly choking on it.

The dirty futon thankfully does not seem to bother the man in this state. At least not so much that you’re forced to migrate. Instead he just growls and huffs if he sits on a particularly sticky area. Each time he does so you have to hold back a snort of laughter.

As you eat coagulated blood also drips onto the blanket. The woman’s body is not as good when it isn’t fresh but it gives you more energy. With a typical mating partner you are used to not getting to meal at all.

Afterwards when there is blood smeared all over both your faces you are happy enough to suck it off his skin. Kokushibou doesn’t moan often but if you lick up his adams apple he groans deeply and digs his fingers into your scalp.

The kissing is what you enjoy most. While the upper moon isn’t very romantic he kisses back when you initiate, which you do often. Whether you’re fucking or not the taste of his skin twists your stomach. You make sure to kiss him whenever you can get away with it.

After each fuck Kokushibo keeps you within his arms. It might be for simple convenience or instincts pushing him to protect an omega but you enjoy the manhandling. On occasion you might even crawl away a foot or two to feel his hands wrap around your ankles. He growls afterwards and drags his teeth over your bare skin. The pin pricks heal in less than a second but the feeling lingers long after. He doesn’t seem to realize you’re unthreatened by the nips, at least not when they barely tickle your back.

—-

The heat ends much quicker than it began. There is no last drawn out slow fuck. One morning you wake up to find a much fainter scent. Kokushibo is not in the futon. Instead he rests against the wall, finishing off the last bits of meat the woman has to offer.

You move to cover your body. You find your thin robe thrown into one of the corners. The upper moon has once again donned his full suit.

For a while he sits in the corner quietly. You watch him with questioning eyes but the man offers no answer. You don’t move around much. Demons aren’t supposed to have any lasting pain or injuries but when the week ends your hips are sore and you can barely move. Turning or trying to stand makes you groan or whimper. Other than gathering some of the dirty laundry (though not the remaining futon, as filthy as it is) you choose to remain curled up in comfort. An hour or so passes that way. Kokushibo could pass as a statue.

When the upper moon finally stands you groan and push yourself upwards once more. Your stance is horribly unstable, knees bent inwards and ankles shaking. Kokushibo is not entirely sympathetic but he offers a supporting hand when he passes you.

You move towards the bathroom, expecting him to follow, but his hand slips out of yours.

“I will be back next year.” Kokushibo hardly spares you a second glance before a biwa strums and you are left alone in the room.

You’re stunned at the silence but the promise of next year makes your cunt throb.

#kny #demon slayer #nsft #kokushibo x reader #kokushibo #kimetsu no yaiba #omegaverse #omega x alpha #alpha beta omega #abo dynamics #alpha!kokushibo #omega!reader #mdni

170 notes · View notes

bokutosbabe · 5 months ago

Text

I Can Fix Him (no really, i can)

a / n — this is his song and you cannot convince me otherwise

content — otoya eita x fem! reader, cheating eita (canon i fear)(kinda on reader), nicknames such as ‘princess’ and ‘pretty’ used, tbh delusional reader (me too tho), ooc eita (this man wouldn’t change for anyone really), lmk if i missed anything!!

synopsis — Otoya Eita has a reputation for cheating, leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake. When he starts dating you, everyone warns you it'll end the same way. But you believe you can change him, convinced your love is different.

✿.｡. “ but your good lord doesn’t need to lift a finger, ” .｡.✿

The whispers started the moment you and Otoya Eita made your relationship public. "He's a cheater," they said. "He'll break your heart just like he did to the others." But you were determined. You saw something in him that others didn't, a man who just needed the right type of love to fix him.

Everyone’s mutterings of “god help her…” when you told them that you were dating eita only gave you more encouragement. You’d prove them wrong, you could fix him- you really could.

Eita wasn't just a star player at Blue Lock; he was also notorious for his charm and the string of girls he left behind. Even in elementary school he had kissed 75% of the girls and 50% had confessed to him!! (with a bowl cut like that, you weren’t sure why,but lest we forget).

Yet, when he was with you, he seemed different. More genuine, more vulnerable. You could fix him. Maybe to anyone else this would seem like a project you were doing, but really, you could change this man.

It was a rainy afternoon when the first real test of your relationship came. You had planned a quiet evening together, but Eita was late. Very late. Your phone buzzed with a message from a friend:

Saw Otoya with another girl at the cafe. Be careful.

Your heart sank, but you pushed the doubt aside. This was your chance to prove everyone wrong. You didn’t need their mutters for a savior to keep your feelings safe. You didn’t need to prove them wrong, really their opinions should’ve meant nothing, but you wanted to. Eita wasn’t like that, you thought.

You called him, your voice steady despite the strange doubt you’d had building inside of you. After the third ring he’d finally picked up, and before he could even say hello you were interrogating him, "Eita, where are you?"

"I'm on my way," he replied, his voice casual, almost too casual. As if he’d been preaching this same lie to every girl he’d had waiting on him for the longest time.

When he finally arrived, you could see the raindrops clinging to his hair, his usual confident and cool demeanor slightly off. "Sorry, I got caught up with some team stuff," he explained, avoiding your eyes.

God help you.

You took a deep breath. "Eita, were you with someone else?" He paused, then met your gaze, his eyes clouded with something you couldn't quite place. You’d had many talks with him about lying. all you wanted from him was the truth.

“Well…yeah. but she’s just a friend, really.” The old you would have believed him without question, but now you needed more. You’d been together for half a year now, and this conversation had happened twice too many times. "I need you to be honest with me, Eita. If we're going to make this work, you have to let me in and be the only girl you’re seeing. or else this isn’t going to continue.”

For a moment, he looked like he might argue, but then his shoulders slumped. "I don't want to hurt you. But I don't know if I can change. It's who I've been for so long." To anyone else, it may have sounded like a lame excuse, but eita had never said something like this to you before. the look in his eyes was something that no one could deny: guilt.

You reached out, taking his hand. "I need you to meet me halfway in this relationship. We can fix this. No other girls, and i’ll stop talking to anyone else.” (you hadn’t been talking to anyone, but you wouldn’t let eita feel like you were his judge, jury, and executioner)

Days turned into weeks, and the effort was exhausting. There were moments of doubt, moments when you wondered if you were fooling yourself. But there were also moments of tenderness, of breakthroughs. Eita began just waving to fan girls instead of flirting with them. He’d stopped winking at waitresses in order to get a discount. This was progress, you’d thought.

You were scared he’d mess this up, prove you a fool to everyone you’d cared for. But you wouldn’t give up. Not on this relationship, not on helping eita fix this streak of cheating, not on eita in general.

The road was long, and the whispers never truly stopped. But every day, you and Eita took another step forward. It wasn't perfect, and there were setbacks. But there were also victories, small moments that proved love's transformative power.

And as the seasons changed, so did Eita. The boy who once broke hearts now cherished yours, holding it with a care that made all the struggles worth it. Because in the end, it wasn't just about fixing him. It was about growing together, finding strength in each other's flaws, and building a love that was uniquely yours.

✿.｡. “ i can fix him, no really i can…or maybe i can’t ” .｡.✿

likes , comments , and reblogs are always appreciated!!

#★ · airybcbyy #airy posts #airy writes for blue lock #airy writes for otoya eita 🥷#otoya eita #bllk otoya #otoya #otoya x reader #bllk eita #eita otoya #otoya eita x reader #ooc otoya #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #eita x reader #man do i LOVE toxic men #(you can’t change him)

122 notes · View notes

paigebooeckers1 · 17 days ago

Text

Maybe, Maybe Not

AN: lowkey hate this chapter but it’s mostly a filler to get this story actually going (the first part kind of is too tbh) but yeah here it is! Enjoy 🫶🏾

Part 2

—————————————————————————

Amiyah’s POV

I’d be lying if I said my days weren’t painfully uniform. My routine is simple, familiar. I think that’s what keeps me from going out of my comfort zone a lot, always striving to stay comfortable, knowing what the next step is.

Maybe that’s why when a stone is kicked out of place, it throws me off balance. Why when something out of the ordinary interrupts my path I can’t seem to shake my thoughts.

That leads me to where I am right now. I’m getting ready for my one class like I do every other day, putting on a bit of blush and mascara, simply not caring about my appearance. Everything about this should feel familiar, but it doesn’t. Instead my head is swimming with different emotions I haven’t felt in a while, my playlist softly playing doing little drown them out.

“Lord Amiyah, You need to get that look off your face. It’s getting old.” Jade says lazily from my bed, keeping me company like most mornings.

“I don’t have a look on my face.”

“Uh, yeah you do. It’s literally screaming ‘My mind is going a mile a minute but I’m too stubborn to admit it’ and it’s been like that for like, a week…since you talked to Paige, actually.” She smirks, but continues. “You don’t need to keep everything to yourself all the time, you know.” She says it with so much sincerity it makes me actually think for a minute.

Paige.

It’s been probably a week since that night at the bar, and I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s honestly embarrassing. I must be so painfully single that a 10 minutes interaction at a bar has me this hooked.

She has this magnetic energy around her. It makes me want to actually talk to her more, I can’t even explain it.

Or maybe I’m too deprived of any romantic connection that I’m being utterly delusional.

“Personally, I think you need to get out and let yourself feel more. It’s good for you.” It’s so easy for Jade to say that, my best friend is the most easy going people I know. I do think about her suggestion, though.

I also take a minute to ignore the foreign feeling in my gut, the question that’s gnawing at my brain; do I like Paige? I’ve been so used to the constant fighting, screaming or crying with Jordan that this doesn’t even feel natural. The warmth that I feel in my stomach when someone mentions her name, the smile that I have to force off my face when I think of the way she was looking at me.

You must think I’m dragging it— the conversation we had being no longer that 10 minutes, not to mention my first time actually talking to her. But that’s another thing about me, I catch feelings just as fast as I get attached, just as fast as I get heart broken. Also just as fast as I am to forgive, only to go through the same cycle.

So, I take that feeling and lock it away again. I have no desire to feel that.

“Maybe you’re right,” I say after a pause, though my voice doesn’t carry much conviction. It’s easier to just agree with Jade than argue. She knows me too well anyway, and I don’t have the energy to fight her perceptiveness this morning.

“You’re damn right, I’m right.” Jade props herself up on one elbow, her bun half falling out as she smirks at me. “But you won’t do anything about it, will you? You’re so stubborn it’s almost impressive.”

“I’m not stubborn.”

“Uh-huh.” She rolls her eyes and flops back onto the bed, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Whatever helps you sleep at night. Just don’t let this… thing eat you alive. You deserve to feel something good for once. Stop being so scared of it.”

Scared. The word hits harder than it should. Maybe because it’s true. I don’t even try to argue.

Instead, I focus on the mirror, running a hand through my hair, fixing curls that don’t really need fixing. Anything to avoid the thoughts swirling around in my head. The warmth in my stomach when I think of Paige is joined by a dull ache in my chest. That familiar mix of longing and dread that always comes with the possibility of letting someone in.

Because what if she’s just like Jordan? What if she’s not?

“You’re spiraling again,” Jade’s voice cuts through my thoughts like a lifeline. “Seriously, Amiyah. You’re thinking way too hard about this.”

“I’m not—”

“Yes, you are. You always do. Look, all I’m saying is maybe instead of locking everything away like you always do, you should just, like, message her, or maybe you’ll run into her again. See what happens. Go with it. Worst-case scenario, you it doesn’t work out, we can be outside together.” She smiles, and it’s teasing, but there’s a softness to it too.

I almost laugh. “You’re really dragging this. I’m hardly even thinking about Paige. Plus, she’s not like that.”

“So you’re saying I’m wrong?”

“For the most part, Jade, yes.” I sigh. My reflection stares back at me, uncertain and a little tired.

Jade sits up fully now, crossing her legs on the bed. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

“Nothing,” I say automatically, then hesitate. “…Maybe.”

“Bro, you’re impossible.” She throws a pillow at me, and I catch it with a grin despite myself.

But her words stick with me as I finish getting ready, her voice echoing in my head even after she’s moved on to scrolling through her phone.

What am I going to do about it?

Paige’s POV

What the fuck is wrong with me. Actually scratch that, what the fuck is wrong with Amiyah?

That sounds harsh, but I can’t shake that exact thought. Why has she somehow weaseled her way into my thoughts and won’t leave? It’s beginning to be genuinely annoying. I hardly got a chance to talk to the girl before she left me standing at the bar, nothing but my dirty shirley to comfort me.

If I’m being honest, I haven’t even thought about any other girls, the fixation of wanting Amiyah’s validation eating me alive. For what reason? I couldn’t tell you. Maybe this is what a crush feels like, though I’m not sure I’ve really had a real one since high school. The constant pressure of basketball, being the best, staying on top, has been at the forefront of my mind since I can remember, leaving me with no room to really feel anything else. I blame my list of one night stands or late night booty calls on that, but now I’m pretty much created a “whore” title for myself on that. Maybe that’s why Amiyah rejec- I shake the thought, not even in the mood.

It doesn’t help that every other girl I talk to eats it up, though.

That’s when it dawns on me— I’m Paige Bueckers (pardon the cockiness). I need this girl, even if it’s only for a night.

With that, I pick up my phone and open instagram. Are my hands fucking sweating? What the fuck.

Regardless, I keep going with my plan. I open Amiyah’s account, which has become part of my daily routine this week. For the first time, I like her most recent post, and follow her.

Wow, real brave, Paige.

I then open dms and try my best to sound as casual as possible.

Yoo, Amiyahh

She sees it right away. Good start.

Heyy wsp?

Wouldn’t you like to know, huh?

Ohh she’s a jokester…pretty sure ur the one messaging me, paige.

Obviously. I’m an idiot. Regardless, I keep my cool.

Yeah wtv, just thinking bout the girl I offered a drink but thought she was too good for me

A minute goes by.

Aw poor paigey, first for everything tho, yeah?😂

I can already tell this girl is different. I’m not even sure how to reply at first.

Chill on mee

I wait before sending the next message.

Was gonna ask if u could take u out somewhere else, but maybe not 🤷🏼‍♀️

What makes u think id wanna do that either, huh?

Cuz u can’t resist me 😉

She must think I’m an idiot, but I rly don’t have much to lose here.

Oh please😂 you use that on all ur girls?

Only the special ones

Oh I’m special?

Yeahh ion even gotta know u that well to know ts

I fully mean that.

Didn’t realize I was that easy to read

She pauses, but starts typing again. Please please, lord.

I’ll go out with u, can’t tn though

A smile much too wide spreads across my face.

Bet, when u free?

When I tell u I am 😂

How you know I’ll still wanna take u out?

Cuz you willll, paige

I simply heart the message before setting my phone back down on my nightstand. That might’ve been one of the most simple text threads I’ve even sent, yet my hearts going a mile a minute, cheeks feeling slightly flushed. I’m still smiling despite myself.

I all but skip to the kitchen to get a glass of water where I see Jana, typing away on here laptop.

“What’s got you go giddy?” She asks, a knowing smile on her face.

I decide to not even share my news, not wanting to jeopardize anything. “Nothin.”

I feel like this girl is gonna have me wrapped around her finger.

Tags (lmk if u wanna be added!): @melpthatsme

#uconn wbb #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers

40 notes · View notes

kanguin · 10 days ago

Text

Apropos of nothing, here's my top 15 anime and whether the story would be improved if you made the main character a trans girl:

1. That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime - You can't transition Rimuru in a way that matters, but honestly if Rimuru did start to ID as a woman over time, that would be cool. Unlikely though considering his human form is the body of Shizu, so a fully fem form would feel pervy to Rimuru.

2. Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood - Well it'd certainly make the title funny if you made Edward into Edwina. And it'd make Ed/Winry into yuri. But honestly it'd change very little imho. Though it would be interesting to explore transition in a world where alchemy exists, but just in a different story. Might make for a fascinating post-canon fanfic?

3. Mushoku Tensei: Jobless Reincarnation - Oh god would it. The story is already focused on exploring identity and already has dysphoria when a god he talks to forces him into his pre-reincarnation body on the astral plane. Making Rudy into a polyamorous trans lesbian would literally be peak and elevate the story so much.

4. Kaguya-sama: Love is War - You know what? Yeah. I can vibe with making Miyuki Shirogane trans. It would add another layer of intrigue to the story AND make it gay. It could even be funny if Kaguya or Chica found out before Shirogane did. Wait. No. It would be hilarious if YU ISHIGAMI found out first, and just, assumed Miyuki was closeted, and not just, clueless. Yes this could add so much entertainment value.

5. Dungeon Meshi - Lord almighty get this autistic furry a choker and some estrogen, stat. I make it no secret how I feel about the Trans Touden Sisters interpretation.

6. Dandadan - Make Okarun and Jiji trans girls and make the main cast a messy polycule and sign me the FUCK up please! It would be so funny and so much fun. I NEED this version of Dandadan. It'd be even funnier considering how much is focused around Ken's junk and him being partially possessed by an old lady.

7. Overlord - NGL I'm not even sure anything would change if you made Momonga into a trans woman. She'd act the exact same, and so would everyone else. Interesting for sure, but fruitless, ultimately.

8. My Dressup Darling - Crack? Crack cocaine? Do you realize how amazing it would be to make this into a story about a gyaru girl pulling a closeted trans girl excitably out of the closet?! This would make this so much cuter than it already is, I think I'd EXPLODE.

9. How a Realist Hero Rebuilt the Kingdom - It wouldn't change much narratively, but the world could always use more stories with polyamorous trans lesbians as the protagonist.

10. The Faraway Paladin - Wouldn't change much honestly, but it would be cool. Tbh Season 2 Will looks like a stealth/closeted trans girly already.

11. Mob Psycho 100 - Again wouldn't change much but would be fun. Put Mob on estrogen and watch her transform from anxiety autism failboy to anxiety autism failgirl. And then still be the kindest person in any room.

... Okay though, on second thought, getting to see her go ???% on a transphobe would be cool as shit.

12. One Punch Man - another no change case. One Punch Woman. She has boobs now. She probably transitioned in like a day somehow.

13. My Hero Academia - I think putting Midoriya on estrogen would fix the show actually. Maybe also put the writer on estrogen just to be sure. (joke)

14. Kill la Kill - Making Ryuko Matoi a trans girl would actually be really cool, especially with her challenging establishment, with the themes of clothes being a restrictive aspect of society, and with her gay romance with Mako. I've seen so many trans girls on Tumblr with Ryuko's exact shameless, confident personality, I just know it'd be epic.

15. Cautious Hero: The Hero is Overpowered but Overly Cautious - It would change little about how Seiya acts, but realizing she's trans would definitely give Ristarte's bisexual ass a nosebleed. Though Seiya would probably be ultra mega hyper closeted behind numerous mystic barriers, so that'd be fun to explore.

49 notes · View notes

iridiss · 5 months ago

Text

binging diaries again… finally got around to my diaries Aphmau redesign…

She’s a bundle of joy when she first arrives in town, a selfless and optimistic problem-solver who took one look at a rotting, decaying village and decided she would fix it up single-handedly. She repairs their houses, builds a guard tower, builds them a bigger and better farm, builds more homes, brings a lot more villagers and merchants to the town, rebuilds old alliances that decayed after Malik’s death and makes new ones with near and faraway towns. Shes stubborn and headstrong at times, and in the beginning her desire to always see the best in people leads her into some nasty situations, but through her actions, agency, and persistent efforts, she becomes the embodiment of hope and healing for the town (Very similarly to how Irene the Matron aided her hometown in its recovery!). This is why the town elects her the Lord of the village.

Loss after loss, battle after battle, traumatic event after traumatic event, the state of the world slowly falling apart around her gradually chips away at her bright and cheery demeanor, matures her, hardens her into a woman that is- still very much capable of being sweet and happy and warm and loving!!! She never loses her core personality!! But it…changes her nonetheless. It hurts, and she grieves, and it comes dangerously close to breaking her over the years. She ends up hardening into a woman who’s capable of playing both the darling lover and the military General. A woman who’s learned how to be cautious and wary and approach things tactically, who learned how to determine the difference between a good person who just needs to be warmed out of their shell—and a charismatic liar whose nowhere near as good as they seem on the surface. She’s mature, she’s wise, she’s a natural leader, she’s cautious and on occasion can be rather guarded, but…she’ll always be warm and gentle and kind on the inside.

After Aaron dies, her mental health takes a massive dip, and on occasion she ends up in a rather dark mental place. A vengeful, angry, violent place. Come season three, she’s learned that sometimes you have to kill in order to protect the ones you love the most, and after he dies, that part of her becomes…a bit worse. If you’re her ally, the only change you would have noticed is the deepened bags under her eyes and her lack of sleep, but if you’re an established enemy, like, say, Zane, you might notice that she’s stopped talking things out and started jumping straight to Kill Mode (…which is, tbh, valid). She leans heavily on her partners to help her through this darker time in her life, and after the series finale when they get Aaron back and Shad is defeated, she’s doing much better.

She’s a sweetheart and a goody-two-shoes, yes, but like. she’s also basically a military general in the midst of a very long war. she’s got fuckin ptsd and is MUCH more emotionally mature and wisened than her Mystreet and Void Paradox counterparts. girlies been through hell. literally.

Also religious trauma I think she’d have plenty fair share of religious trauma from the whole Irene business

#aphmau #aphblr #minecraft diaries #mcd #mcd aphmau #aphmau fanart #aphmau art #aphmau redesign #mcd redesign #art #my art #fanart #she could punt you into the sun

130 notes · View notes

menlove · 6 months ago

Note

any introductory beatles (just mclennon tbh) fics? 🤲

LORD OKAYYYYY i'll try not to go too crazy and just stick to my alltime faves.....

first of all anything @forthlin (milaway on ao3) has written literally ever. i am going to eat them one day. they are the yin to my yang and also the best writer this fandom has ever seeeeen. um. anyway! like i said, all their fics. but i'd Particularly rec your lucky break which is an au where john is a 30 something rockstar and paul is an up and coming musician in the 70s. and well! what can i say about this fic except it's sooo in character, hot, and also the reason i started talking to the best person on this earth so whatever

also completelyyyyy selfish but hey i only wrote half so i'm counting it but we also have an ongoing series: i want you, i need you, i love you where they're writing john's povs and i'm writing paul's! it's just basically our take on their timeline & relationship, but the third installment's going to be a fix-it

now onto me not being gay or selfish here's some of my favorites that i think are Must Reads.

Boy, You've Been A Naughty Girl

explicit. 49k. John makes Paul a bet. Paul takes him up on it. Crossdressing shenanigans and angst ensue, and ~feelings come out in the wash. 1961. rec notes: okay look. this one is just a classic. it's great. esp love it bc it's right up my alley with its "paul isn't an oblivious moron" takes. also.... hot.

I Still Miss Someone/I Know That I Miss You but I Don't Know Where I Stand

explicit. 64k. It's 1976 and Paul keeps showing up on John's doorstep with a guitar. Eventually John turns him away and Paul goes off to sulk in his hotel room the night before his flight from New York. Based on real events. rec notes: aaaaugh this one haunts me there's one scene i think of literally every time "i still miss someone" by johnny cash comes on, which is one of my fave songs. it's not a fix-it, but it's so so so good for the Vibes of their 70s relationship :(

Like Love, The Archers Are Blind

explicit. 22k. He wants to push Stuart out of the way, not even with a violent yank of his collar like he sometimes imagines. Just to melt into his place like butter sliding in a pan. Have it be an effortless breath of fresh air when John looks up at him and sees it all reflected back in his eyes. It’s you. rec notes: this one is just... soft. and so good for a snapshot of the hamburg vibe.

i was a younger man then (now) (post hoc)

mature. 27k. John’s twelve when a bloke appears from a flaming pie and says, “From this day forward you are Beatles with an ‘a.’” The bloke is Paul. Or: paul and john meet at all ages and eras and john is the time-traveler’s wife the way only john lennon can be rec notes: literally my favorite mclennon fic everrrrrr ever ever. other than your lucky break. this is everything. this is it. like it nails their dynamic even though it's a magical au. it explores their relationship sooooo fucking well. i think about it like weekly.

John My Beloved

explicit. 33k. They've always loved each other, in their own way… rec notes: OTHER FAVORITE EVER it broke my heart it changed my fucking lifeeeee it changed my world. major character death warning but fuck man. i think about this literally constantly. this fic haunts me. i think it changed me. i had to stare at a wall for like 30 minutes after finishing it. i got choked up.

two of us (burning matches)

explicit. 6k. It won't stop raining. Paul doesn't know what his feelings are doing. John's practising his right swing. Somewhere along the way, they fuse together. rec notes: this one is just cuuuute and perfect for the Early Days Vibes.

Grow Old With Me

explicit. 8k. fix-it. Paul breaks his arm, and John panics. rec notes: SOOOO FUCKING SWEET. this is what they deserved and i like to live here in my mind when the reality of what actually happened gets to be too much.

1967

mature. 11k. canon-divergent au. In 1961, John Lennon and Paul McCartney left abruptly on a trip to Spain, via France. In 1967, they finally come home to face the consequences. rec notes: the style of this one is INSANE. it's so unique and i love it sososososo much. also the plot? is super unique???? basically it's an au where they never came home from paris and it's.... so fucking good. i love the way it looks at their dynamic like fuck. it's just perfect.

Way Up Top

explicit. 12k. Falling out of the sky, together. | Snapshots of the Beatles in Greece, July 1967 rec notes: LOVE this one for its portrayal of all non-mclennon parties. it fleshes everyone out, especially jane and cyn, in ways a lot of fics just skip. just sooo well written and melancholic in a great way i think.

When You Are Young They Assume You Know Nothing

mature. 26k. But Paul knows John. There’s something about Paris, though... rec notes: THE paris fic to me. this is soooo good and so fucking soft and it just. augh. it killed me.

a brief interruption, a slight malfunction

explicit. 12k. During the rooftop concert, John remembers why he used to find Paul so irresistible after a show. One more time won't hurt, right? rec notes: perfect breakup era fic. my rec notes on ao3 were "this was devastating :)" so. god. this fucked me up.

aaand honorary mentions to the two non-mclennon fics i've read but !

Knocking at Your Door

george/paul. explicit. 6k. It's easy enough, this time, to lean in and touch their lips together. A firm press of his mouth to Paul's; first at the corner, then right on the centre of his yielding, expressive lower lip. Paul and George: a few meetings over thirty-six years. rec notes: the opening sentence to this made me sick to my stomach and then the rest of the fic destroyed me permanently

Where The Sailors Go

ringo/paul. explicit. 5k. A drunken German mistakes Paul, alone in Hamburg's red light district, for a rentboy. Ringo, the Hurricanes' terrifyingly adult drummer, intervenes. Things happen, but Paul can't stop thinking about John. rec notes: PRINGOOOOO. with background mclennon. this was so real to me. also in the same universe as this fic is (It's Just) Another Day which is a transfem paul mclennon fic that rooocked my world. it's still a wip but holy fuck. made me rearrange the way i see paul tbh.

#mclennon #theres probably moooore but these are from my bookmarks so !

77 notes · View notes

thegreatimpersonator · 8 months ago

Text

since y'all seemed to want this.... here's the live notes i took while listening to each song for the first time (bold are thoughts i had during later listens)

fortnight:

‘i was a functioning alcohol till nobody noticed my new aesthetic’ what the fuck does that even mean…

love the fact she gave post the female collab treatment. don’t wanna hear what he has to say.

they’re voices sound actually good together?

some pockets of the melody are catchy

okay i don’t hate this

ttpd:

her red flags are on fire in this song lol

this seems very half-cooked

also jacks weird mixing continues to plague us all

CHARLIE PUTH???? WHAT THE FUCK WHY HE HERE

tattooed golden retriever??? ……no way

my boy breaks all his favorite toys:

i blinked and it’s half over

this also is like… half cooked and didn’t need to be released tbh

i love the way she sings the second verse tho

down and:

the production does not match the vibe

did tpain produce this

i’m… kinda bored lol

like i have nothing to say this also didn’t need to be released tbh

this grew on me a lot actually

so long london

the production is so futuristic?

oh im obsessed with how she sounds on this one

her talk-singing in the verses is great

honest lyrics without any clunky unnecessary metaphors! a win!!

the fast-paced verses with th slow chorus is really really cool

a favorite so far

daddy i love him

i can barely hear her? the bad mixing continues

‘growing up precociously sometimes means not growing up at all’ oh yeah WE KNOW

is this…… is this about her dating matty and loving how people hate him… no fucking way she’s this stupid

SHE IS BEING THIS STUPID

‘it’s white noise’ yeah yeah that’s exactly how id describe him

.... anyway y'all remember when fans really believed the little mermaid theory and this song was supposed to be about how 'joe stole her voice' lmaooo

we will pretend this one doesn't exist!

fresh out the slammer

are we getting another ‘i didn’t cheat technically’ song lol

what is this weird tempo change….

okay kinda catchy

it’s sounds exactly like you are in love at the end….. jack is really out of tricks

florida

‘my friends all smell like weed or little babies’ what the fuck is she even talking about anymore

i’m sorry but i’m laughing at the phrase ‘fuck me up florida’

again the production sounds so detached from the vocals

i honestly still have no idea how i feel about this one

guilt as sin

an real instrument?? wow crazy

okay she’s kinda cute? catchy and fun, love the melody

i love when she goes up at the end of the vocal

okay…. i don’t mind this one she’s catchy, a little too long and drawn out but cute

who’s afraid of little old me?

what is this production? it’s way too soft to be as threatening as they’re trying for

why did jack push her vocals back so far when she’s supposed to scream…. that’s ruins the whole thing…. she’s supposed to be screaming and threatening….. not quiet and far away…. hello

this song is trying very hard to be threatening but it’s not... vigilante shit 2.0

‘you wouldn’t last an hour in the asylum they raised me’…………… upper middle-class pennsylvania?

‘i’m drunk on my own tears isn’t that what they all say, that’ll sue you if you step on my lawn’ okay bar?

the bridge was good but that’s about it.

i can fix him

…………… not another matty song oh god

‘i can handle a dangerous man’…… im too stunned to speak this is so embarrassing

wow taylor really is that girl who like ‘women supporting women’ and then dates/defends a racist bf…. a walking example of white feminism

intersectional feminism found dead.... twice....

loml

okay this is really nice?

I WAS ACTUALLY ENJOYING THE SONG WHY DID SHE RUIN IT BY SAYING ‘MR STEAL YOUR GIRL’ 💀

if we ignore that one line we're good this is good. im refusing to let that line ruin such a good song

i can do it with a broken heart

‘bitch smile’ why are there so many cringey lyrics on this album lol

what is this song omg why do i kind of like it

taylor please learn depressed isn’t a synonym for sad

they recycled the mastermind production

wait till taylor finds out most of the entire world is sad while they're doing their job and has to pretend they're not

smallest man who ever lived

oh i think i like this?

‘you said normal girls were boring’ GIRL AND YOU DIDNT IMMEDIATELY GET UP AND LEAVE??? EWWWW??? she's not beating the pick-me allegations

'i just wanna know if rusting my sparking summer was the goal' okay love that line

i like this a lot

the alchemy

no….. no way this is real

i cannot

THE SPORTS METAPHORS WE JOKED SHED DO THAT AND SHE ACTUALLY DID IT OH NO

touchdown ✅ teams ✅ benches ✅ winning streak ✅ the league ✅

she’s doing…… the worst thing ever this is so laughable

the corny lyrics are on overload

‘this time it’s heroine with an e’ didn’t she write folklore? i can’t remember

that literally was an snl parody of a taylor song

clara bow

love how the guitar sounds… bet money this is an aaron track

a stevie nicks reference!! a win!!!

i like this one a lot no cringey lyrics yet

nope never mind she name-dropped herself don’t like that

overall really liked it tho

the black dog

i think i like it?? this is kind of what i expected the album to be

okay for once the weird production choices kind of pay off

imgonnagetyouback

kinda catchy?

she loves a fancy car getting wrecked line

the pre-choruses are the best part

this would’ve been better without the jack of it all bc he loves a song that doesnt build to anything

this just comes down to personal preference: i don’t like her lighter vocals with jack’s heavy production (ie most of lover lol)

the albatross

a real instrument!!! production that matches taylor’s voice and is well mixed!!! aaron’s arrived!!

i think it’s solid, has good writing and she sounds great. that's about it.

chloe or sam or…

took me a solid minute to have any semblance of a fuck to know what was going on but okay

okay i love this one

wayyyy more emotive than like… most of the original album

a lot of the 2nd version (or whatever this is lol) are way more emotive, maybe because her voice isnt drenched in reverb so we can actually hear her voice emote better

how did it end

this sounds like an old school adele song?

i love this one too….

her being upset people wanna know what happened but then also feeding it while promoting the album oop

i love the story of this one it's so refreshing

so high school

THE PRODUCTION is so good ugh aaron never fails

the man here is a walking red flag girl and the lyrics are ~not it~ but the production is too pretty to hate it

fuck these lyrics are so bad lol

maybe if i disassociate hard enough i can ignore the lyrics and just listen to the production and vibe

give me a karaoke version of this song and we'd be so back

i hate it here

i mentioned disassociation and she made a whole song about it!!!! this one’s mine!!!!

‘without all the racists’ GIRL HUH

WHAT WAS THE REASON

also... girl don’t act like we don’t know you’re fine with that lololololol

if i had a dime for every time i was liking a song to then have it slapped away because of a bad, out-of-pocket lyric……

thank you aimee

this isn’t grabbing my attention

oh the bridge is interesting

it’s meh

i will never be thanking the people that bullied me thanks tho

i look in peoples windows

what do you mean aaron didn’t produce this??? it’s well-made and has instruments?

i love this one, again a really interesting and unique concept that's very refreshing to hear at this point when a lot of the songs feel repetitive

the prophecy

aaron guitar!!!!

she’s nice i like her

i've really grown to love how she sings this one, the melodies are cool.. however i feel like we've heard the same melody.. like on this exact album... where she upturns at the end of every line...

cassandra

this seems very…. familiar… idk i feel like we’ve covered this (i mean there are 31 songs we’ve already covered everything lol)

this is such an aaron song, that's a classic 'the national' piano

i like her voice in this one tho, sounds good

peter

oh love i love this

now this? THIS feels the most like a taylor swift song

once again she’s at her best with a simple instrument and emotive simple lyrics

the piano reminds me of champagne problems

the bolter

i like this! the chorus is so cute

oh i like that ending line a lot!

she’s cute, a little long and drawn out but cute

robin

i haven’t seen anyone talk about this one

welp…. i literally have no feelings toward this one but sounds pretty!

the manuscript

oh this is soooooooo powerful

i love this concept

her ending the album on another introspective album that sums everything up a la dear reader yep yep!!

if you actually read of this ily 💗

#tp #ttpd lb #kind of lol

112 notes · View notes

charmedreincarnation · 2 years ago

Note

Hi Maya! my name is Claire and I got into the void state, shifted and manifested my dream life using your lucid dreaming guide, and your recommended subliminals!

I think lucid dreaming is the easiest way to do anything spiritual related because dreams are the link of reality to the subconscious. I have now entered the void, shifted, and practice manifesting while using lucid dreaming. I had been trying for 3 years and your guide really gave me clarity I needed to complete my journey. This was a couple of months ago when I first read your post that I got my dream life so I just want to share my experiences in case it could help others!

Sooo….I first restarted my journey after downloading tumblr. I knew I wanted to do lucid dreaming so I did my research and found your guide and the rest is history. I started small, and after using FILD I combined that with your intention method and your recommended subliminals and it sped up my journey. I crawled before I walked and I first started with having small manifestations using lucid dreaming

In my lucid dreams

*I practiced driving in lucid dreaming and manifested my license

*I practiced my public speaking and manifested less anxiety

*i talked to my guardian Angel. It took form of an owl, which is the first spiritual experience I ever had.

Then I went bigger and tried shifting. After a week of practice I got lucid dreaming down and could become lucid every night.

Then I shifted. Best day of my life and I had no plans so I ended up shifting to a reality where no men exist 😭 it was honestly so fun and I spent a week of dr time telling women about what men are, what they do, and the oppression women in this reality faced. It was in a futuristic yet renaissancey type like reality. Anyways as I explored this new society I discovered something miraculous: the disappearance of men has actually created harmony. Women are now able to focus on themselves and the things that matter most to them without worrying about the men.This newfound bliss didn’t last long however as I soon realized that a new problem had emerged. With the absence of men many essential tasks were left undone. And so, the women of our society had formed a collective economy in order to fill this void.One of the most peculiar duties that the women had assumed was to take care of the sheep. With no shepherds to take care of them, women used their skills to care for these animals and protect them from the elements. They have become so adept at this task that they have perfected it. The lack of men may have been a dramatic adjustment, but it has made for a joyful and empowering society.

When I came back I made a list of realities, like self created ones, tv shows, books, etc that I wanted to shift my awareness to and historic past places I wanted to visit. I spent a lot of time doing that, I was barely ever in this cr tbh and I enjoyed it throughly. I decided then that I was going to one day permanent shift and explore the infinite vast world for eternity. When I came back to this reality after having the first initial exploring crave I realized I hated my life lmfaooo. But I knew about the void and started reading stories about that and then I decided I wanted to change my life here too.

I mean.. I have the multiverse to my will so might as well fix this life here too. I hated coming back to this reality after my shifts because my parents were abusive, I was kind of ugly, and my life had gone to shit. I didn’t really care to change it because I was barely here anyways but after reading Neville and the law and understanding that “clones” really don’t exist and I’m just switching states I decided up stop being such a loser and realize it’s all me and only me. Anyways I manifested a complete change in my life in every aspect. I don’t really care to make a list but I am gorgeous, my family is revised to be old money rich, loving,and taken care of, my house is 30,000 sq feet,revised my name to Claire (it’s so pretty I love it) I have a loving boyfriend who is into shifting and spirituality as well, and so much more. I still do plan to permanent shift one day and I reserve to sundays for exploring the multiverse but I want to enjoy this reality now.

I thought being here was an accident after shifting, but nope everything happens bc you intended to and it’s so goddamn beautiful. This came out super ranty and lame but I just wanted to share in case I motivated anyone! I still sometimes come on tumblr so can I be your 🎐 anon. I love seeing all the success stories and everyone living their best life ! Anyways the best tips I can give you as a stranger who has been through all this is be kind to yourself and never give up. You found it all for a reason and you deserve to have everything and you will.

The first reality you shifted to reminds me of a very vivid dream I had four months ago. Regardless anyways your entire experience is so beautiful and I relate a lot to your experience I’m glad you have found happiness in every reality including this one beloved :)! Thank you for sharing 🎐 anon

#law of assumption #manifesation #manifesting #void state #reality shifting #shiftblr #void success

620 notes · View notes

totallytatum · 1 year ago

Text

No one else

pairing; joel miller x reader rating; 18+ warnings; the tiniest bit of descriptive smut, kinda angst, basically fluff divider; cafekitsune summary; it was never meant to be complicated, no more than hooking up. word count; 990 note; I suck at proof reading and editing just in general, this was just a little short drabble, something to attempt to get the creative flow going. this had better potential tbh.

Joel is in pure bliss. Love. In love. He was never the man for domestication and settling down. It has always just been him and Sarah, never needing anything more. Until you showed up. Wrapped under his younger brother’s arm being dragged to him. Shades of pink flushed your cheeks as you two were introduced. That night you two hit it off good. So good you went home with him.

That night turned into a bunch of nights spent together, but only nights. You two only confined in each other between his sheets and calloused fingers.The space between you two is only filled with the sounds of pleasure and begs. Please Joel. More. Please. Please. Please. That solitude only lasted 7 months.

His breath was rugged, staggering into your ear. A soft moan escaped your lips as you dug your nails into his back, anything to pull him closer. Euphoria ripped through chest, his pace not slowing down. His fingertips danced your back and his lips kissed your jaw, “ you could be my entire world, “ he whispered into your ear before moving down to your collarbone and placing a kiss. You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t say anything. Your eyes squeezed shut and hissed in a breath. It was never supposed to be like this. It was never meant to get complicated, it was never meant to turn into anything.

Joel’s pace became relenting, his hips snapped into yours, balls smacking against your ass. He became louder, his moans more erratic. His hand rode up the side of your rib to the swell over your breast. Taking your hard pebble between his lips, his thrusts became sloppy. “ Tell me. Tell me you’ll let me have you. “

You choked back tears. This couldn’t happen. This can’t happen. Not with Joel. This can’t get messy. “ J- Joel. “ You hand trailed up his back and onto the base of his neck. Anything to distract him Anything to make this encounter quicker so you can make your dash for the door and return his messages, leaving him to wonder where it went wrong. He must’ve taken his name call for more, bringing his lips back up to clash with yours. All teeth, spit mixed into each other's mouths. Joel was always your favorite taste at the end of the day. Always tasted like whiskey, but never overbearing. Maybe just a quick glass before you two get tangled between the sheets.

He was close, pushing himself over the edge. Whatever he felt in this moment absolutely wrecked him, sent him to another planet. He groaned as he tensed up, painting your walls white with his spent. He placed a softer kiss against your lips as he tried to catch his breath, pushing sweat soaked hair out of your eyes. You met his gaze and the reality set in, you have to end this. You have to break his heart to protect your own.

“ Joel. We can’t. “

His brows furrowed in confusion, “ can’t what. “

You pushed his shoulders slightly, pushing him off of you. Bringing the sheet up to your chest and sitting up, turning your head to look at him. “ This. We can’t do this anymore. We can’t do anything. You don’t want me. I’m no good. Used damage. “ Pushing the sheet over, you slid off the best, grabbing your old t-shirt off the floor before slipping it on.

“ Now hold on a damn minute. Baby - “

“ Joel, please. Please don’t make this complicated. “

“ Have you ever thought about what I wanted? What I wanted in this? I want you, baby. All the time. All. The. Fucking. Time. I’m distracted. Always distracted. I’m shit at work. I fuck things up now and Tommy has to fix it. When I first met you, the very first time I saw you, saw you under Tommy’s arm. Well, well baby I wanted to run away. We clicked, something that night just did it for me. I wanted to run away because I knew if we started doing this, we would never stop. I’d never want to stop.That’s exactly how this is, that’s exactly how it has been. In no universe would I want to let you go, would I ever let you go without fighting for you. “

Your eyes started to become glossy, shaking your head, you hissed in a trembling breath. You were about to crack. About to become a sobbing mess if he didn’t knock this shit off.

“ J-Joel. Please. I’m begging- don’t. “

“ I want you. I want to be with you, on you, in you every second of the day. I dream of a life with you. A life that could happen. I could make it happen. I could make you happy. We could make each other happy. I want to marry you. I’d marry you tomorrow if it would seal the deal you were never leaving. I want to add you to my health insurance. I want to buy groceries on things you like. I want to have your trinkets littered around the house. I want the closest stuffed full of your clothes. You have nestled deep into my heart. I need you. I want to play it cool, tell you i’m not obsessed but I’m head over heels for you darlin’. “

You will never witness a love like this. Never again and never from a man like Joel. Your heart swelled, you needed him, even if you left and never spoke to him. You’d mourn what was there, what could have been. He didn’t think of you as baggage, as used up damages. He thought of you as a flower, delicate and full of life. Filled with different emotions you tackled him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, you let out a breathy laugh that was filled with tears.

“ You, Joel Miller, are the most magnificent thing that has ever happened to me. Be gentle with me, Joel, that’s all I ask. “

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel x y/n #hbo the last of us #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic

192 notes · View notes

auras-moonstone · 1 year ago

Note

Holaaa me emocione bastante con saber q eres de argentina (yo no soy de argentina soy de Mexico) pero esta cool saber q también hablas español lol

llevo rato leyendo tus trabajos y me encanta como escribeees, no se que te parezca la idea de una historia de Ethan como Spiderman tbh es mi head canon favorito y no hay mucha gente que lo escriba ahí una idea no se si sigas aceptando requests o si ya habías escrito algo de Ethan como Spiderman pero me encantaría leer algo así escrito por ti obvi 🤭

(En ingles ofc!)

Perdooon si escribí bastante me emocione jajaja apenas agarre el valor Para dejar un request

hola 🇲🇽 ! perdón por haber tardado tanto en escribir esta request😫 me encantó la idea, hace bastante que quería escribir algo sobre ethan como spiderman <3 espero que te guste❤️🫶🏻

the story of us — ethan landry

word count: 2,693

pairing: spider-man!ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: ethan and y/n’s relationship might be ending soon because of the boy’s behaviour and secrets.

based on: the story of us by taylor swift

warnings: mention of blood. a bit of angst.

Y/N SHOULDN’T FEEL SURPRISED FOR HAVING BEEN STOOD UP BY ETHAN, it seemed to be his favourite hobby lately. But when he came up to her with regretful puppy eyes asking for them to meet so he could explain the reason behind his behaviour, she really thought he would keep his word and show up to fix things.

But once again he failed her, and now Y/N was walking back home alone with mascara running down her face and with her chest filled with disappointment and sadness.

Y/N was walking through the dark and unsafe NYC streets, wondering what excuse her boyfriend was going to use this time, when she heard a whimper coming from the creepy unlit alley she was passing by. Her whole body tightened with fear, hands instantly became sweaty, her heart thundered dangerously fast and yet she stopped walking. Then the noise came again, this time more clear—it was a pained curse from a male voice.

The girl couldn’t decide if she was stupid or too brave, but she walked towards the person. Her eyes widened at the scene—there, sitting next to a container, was Spiderman; a bleeding Spiderman.

“Holy hell, are you okay?” she cried, inspecting the wound. “Of course you’re not okay! You’re bleeding a lot! A lot!”

Ethan cursed internally. Of all the people who could have found him, it had to be her. “Thanks for the calming words.” the superhero said between gritted teeth.

“Sorry! I shouldn’t have said that. I was exaggerating, it’s not that bad.” Y/N tried to convince him.

“You’re a horrible liar” his hands were shaking as he tried to put pressure on the wound.

“Okay, let’s get you out of here, the smell is awful.” the girl said, putting one of his—very strong and muscled—arms around her shoulders. “I know you’re in pain, but I need you to use a bit of your strength to help me lift you to your feet. Can you do that?” the masked figure nodded. “Okay, at the count of three.”

Ethan closed his eyes in pain as he let out a cry of agony. He had been walking towards the cafe where Y/N worked when he heard screaming. An old woman and her granddaughter were being robbed and it was his duty to save them. He would’ve made it to his date with Y/N if the thief’s partner hadn’t caught him off guard and sliced his stomach. Time didn’t matter anymore, he couldn’t show up wounded, and he didn’t have the energy to walk so he stayed in that creepy alley where Y/N found him.

“Ouch!” he yelled when the girl carelessly dropped him on her couch as soon as they arrived to her apartment.

“Sorry!” Y/N said guiltily. “My arms hurt.”

“It’s okay. Thank you, I just need to rest here for a few minutes and I’ll be out of your sight.” he panted.

“You can’t leave! I need to clean you up and then you need to eat something.”

“No, it’s okay. Look, just lend me a first-aid kit, I’ll do it myself. Then I’m leaving.” it wasn’t that Ethan was ungrateful for her help, he just didn’t want to be a burden. Also, if she was to see his body, she was going to recognize him instantly. And Ethan was not going to let that happen.

“Hey, you’re always saving our asses, it’s time someone finally takes care of you.” she smiled softly.

“I really appreciate that, seriously. But I’d be more comfortable doing it myself, if you don’t mind.”

“As you wish.” she said in understanding. And as he stitched himself up, Y/N went to the kitchen to prepare something for him to eat.

Ethan watched her from the doorframe. He wanted to close the space so badly, he wanted to wrap his arms around her waist and never let go. They saw each other everyday, but it’s been days since the last time he got to hold her, kiss her, touch her.

Y/N was really pissed at him, and with good reason. Countless were the times he had stood her up and he slowly—and absentmindedly—started to distance himself from her. And a few days ago, Y/N just exploded and they started fighting. Instead of telling her the truth (that he was a superhero and that the NYC streets were more dangerous than he had thought) he told her she was being dramatic and that he needed a bit of space. He regretted it instantly, and wanted to throw up as soon as his eyes caught her hurt expression. He was trying to keep her safe, but he handed everything in the worst way possible and ended up wounding the person that meant the most to him.

“You cooked for me?” he spoke up. Even though she couldn’t see it, she felt the smile on his voice.

“I told you, it’s time someone takes care of you.” she answered. “Is the wound okay? Does it hurt?”

“I’m fine. I’m a big tough boy.” he said in a teasing voice when she finished. “Thank you, Y/N. You saved me.”

“Anytime, Spider-boy. And honestly, you shouldn’t even thank me, you risk your life for us every- wait a minute.” she stopped when she realised something. “How do you know my name?”

Fuck, he cursed internally. He had messed up. “You told me.” he tried to sound confident.

“No, I didn’t. Do we know each other? Do we go to the same college?” Y/N asked curiously.

“I need to go.” he stood up abruptly, and a whimper of pain left his mouth.

“No! I’m sorry, I won’t press the subject.” she said, grabbing his forearms to sit him back on the chair. “I respect you wanting to keep your identity hidden. I won’t ask any more questions, but please stay. You’re still weak, you need to eat something.”

“You already did a lot. Really.”

“I swear to god, stop being stubborn.”

Who was he kidding with the hesitation? Just one look at her doe eyes and he was on his knees. As he ate, Y/N had her back to him so he could take his mask off. She could have turned around at any time and discover that the friendly neighbour hero was her boyfriend, but she never did. She respected his wish of not wanting to show his face, and that made him love her ever more.

“Your omelette was great” he said as he put the plate on the dishwasher. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

“Why were you crying?” he asked, even though he knew the answer. Ethan and Y/N weren’t on speaking terms, so maybe by talking to her through his secret identity would give him an insight on how to fix the relationship he tore up.

The sad girl frowned and pressed her lips into a line. She didn’t talk to her friends much about Ethan because she didn’t want to put them in an uncomfortable position, as they were all friends, so she had been keeping her frustrations bottled up. And now there was this trustful kind stranger asking her about it, so she gave in.

“My boyfriend didn’t show up to our date. He has been acting so strange lately. He shows up late, he always has a different excuse and gets all nervous and defensive because he’s obviously lying, but most times he doesn’t even show up. Like today.” the exhaustion and defeat was evident on her tone and it broke his heart. “He was supposed to meet me today, so he could open up and tell me what’s going on in his life, but…”

“He let you down again.” he added in a sad tone. Y/N nodded, tears blurring her eyes. “What are you going to do?”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath “I honestly don’t know. I love him, I really do, but our relationship has become one-sided. I’m trying to save it, but it seems like he doesn’t care anymore.”

Fear crept into his mind. Was that it? Was it their end? Was she going to break up with him the next day? He wouldn’t blame her. Yet, he couldn’t help being selfish—he did not want them to break up.

“Maybe there is something going on in his life… something that he can’t tell you for your own good.” he said, and he knew he sounded stupid.

“What could be so bad that he can’t talk to me about it? We have always been honest with each other. He knows he can tell me anything, he knows that he’ll have my support no matter what. I just want him to talk to me. I don’t know what happened with our relationship, but there’s nothing I can do unless he talks to me.”

“Things are going to get better.” the superhero said, rubbing her arm in a comforting gesture.

Ethan had multiple opportunities to be honest with her, to explain why he had become so distant and yet he held his pride and told her she was exaggerating the whole situation. So, as much as she tried to be positive and believe Spider-man’s words, she was scared the story of them might be ending soon.

ETHAN REACHED THE TABLE WHERE THE GROUP WAS SITTING AT and eyed the two empty spots left. One was next to Chad, who was talking animatedly with Tara and Mindy, and the other one was beside Y/N. His spot had always been the one next to hers, but with their current complications and not knowing exactly in which page they were at, he didn’t know what to do. Seeing the way she was nervously pulling at her clothes and tried to look busy, he ended up choosing the first option.

Even though she was trying hard to avoid looking at him, his presence was overwhelming and it took all of her strength to hold back from peaking a glance at his gorgeous smile and perfect curls. She was dying to know if the situation was killing him as much as it was killing her.

Little did she know the boy was losing his mind. The anguish was too much, so many thoughts were running through his mind. He was dying to let her know what was going on, but he was scared it was going to put her in danger. He would rather have her be angry at him than her getting hurt because of him. The wiser thing would be to let her go, to free her from the chaos that came with being involved with a superhero, but he the selfish part of him couldn’t break things up—Ethan loved her too much to give her up.

He needed to come up with a decision. This contest of who could act like they cared less needed to end and he could not tolerate the loud silence between them anymore. “Do you think we could talk tonight?”

“If you have the decency to show up.” she shrugged.

Her armour was up, and it was understandable. “I will. I’ll meet you at your apartment after Econ?”

“Okay.” Y/N nodded. “I’m serious, Ethan. Show up. This is your last chance.”

“I won’t let you down again, Y/N/N. I promise.”

ETHAN DIDN'T KNOW IF THE AREA WHERE Y/N WORKED IN WAS EXTREMELY DANGEROUS OR IF HE JUST HAD BAD LUCK, but every time he was near, something happened that forced him to step in. Thankfully, this time it was an inexperienced thief he easily managed to bring down but his wound wasn't fully healed yet so he was in a bit of pain after the fight. But the important thing was that he made it to Y/N's house.

The girl was unable to hide her relief when she opened the door, but it soon turned into worry. "Ethan, what the hell happened? You're bleeding!"

The curly-haired boy looked down to find a scarlet stain on his blue polo shirt. The wound on his abdomen must have opened while he was stopping the thief, and he didn't even noticed because of the adrenaline. "Um, it's nothing, I-"

"Sit down." she ordered right before leaving to grab the first-aid kit. When she lifted his shirt up, she frowned.

"What is it?" Ethan asked worriedly.

"Ethan, when did this happen?"

"Um, I was robbed while making my way here." the lie slipped off his tongue in an instant.

"You keep lying to me." she let out a humourless laugh. "This has been stitched before, Ethan."

He sighed, thinking of another excuse. "Okay, fine. It's not new. I fell and landed on something sharp, and it cut my stomach."

"Okay, now I'm not only angry because you lied to me twice in the past sixty seconds, but also because you think I'm stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid."

"If you believe I'd buy that shitty excuse, then yes, I think you think I'm stupid." she spat. "Tell me the truth. Right now, Ethan."

Silence embraced the room. As Y/N worked on the wound, Ethan tried to find the words to explain. "I don't know where to start."

"Let's start by telling me how did you get this."

"A thief did it to me." he said, and ignoring his girlfriend's warning glance, he continued, "but he wasn't robbing me. He was stealing from an old woman and I stepped in. He cut me while I was distracted."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise as they scrutinised his face, trying to spot any sign that told her he was lying. She find none. "You fought them?" she asked in disbelief, and Ethan nodded. "That's... that's really brave. And stupid."

"It's my job." he blurted out, making her look at him in confusion. "Well, it's not a job job, because I don't get paid. Not that I'd do it for money, even though I need it-"

"Eth!" she interrupted him. "I love it when you ramble, you're adorable, but could you please explain?"

"I missed you calling me Eth." he whispered, caressing her right cheek. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too, Eth. But we need to talk. Well, you need to talk. What is going on with you? Why are you so distant? Why do you keep missing our dates? What did you mean by 'It's my job'?"

"I'll tell you, but I need to warn you first. You were in danger before knowing this, but after I tell you... you are going to be an even bigger target. And you can't tell anyone, okay? No one knows, and no one has to know."

"Okay, just spit it out, Ethan."

"I'm Spider-man."

It was as if their surroundings had frozen, and minutes felt like hours. Y/N sat on the couch, dumbfounded, and Ethan's leg bounced as he bit his nails.

Meanwhile, Y/N's brain worked at a fast pace, trying to connect the dots. Now, in hindsight, everything made sense. His bruises, his wounds, why he was always in high alert, why his walls were up, his grades dropping, his tardiness... he became the friendly neighborhood spiderman. The vigilante she had found bleeding the previous night.

"Hey! You used your secret identity to get information out of me, asshole!"

"That's all you have to say?!"

"I mean, no... but I don't really know what to say."

"You're not mad?"

"I don't think so. I really wish you would've told me, could've saved up lots of arguments, but I do understand why you didn't tell me. I'm glad you opened up, tho. I am really tired of missing you and not kissing you."

Ethan laughed. “I love you. I missed you like crazy, and I'm sorry for everything.” he hold her close to his chest and let himself relax for the first time in weeks. “By the way, you need to quit that job. I swear there’s a robbery every five fucking minutes.”

“Have you been following me?” she arched her eyebrow.

“Keeping an eye on you.” he corrected. “I can’t let anything happen to my girl, and like I said, it’s a dangerous area.”

Y/N laughed and kissed his lips tenderly “I love you, my little stalker. Don’t keep secrets from me ever again.”

“Never. I promise. We’re a team.”

275 notes · View notes