Rainy Night (Ford Pines X Fem!reader)

Rainy night (Ford Pines x fem!reader)

minors don’t interact

It's a summer night outside, the air is filled with the smell of rain falling on warm ground, raindrops are running down the window. The rain is not that sharp or scary, rather soft, constant, but it cools the night good enough after hot day. From time to time you hear low rumbles of thunder that come from afar, but they are soft and lazy.

It’s peaceful, almost. Except for the man beneath you.

Stanford sits on the couch, his back slumped against the cushions with you on his laps. His large hands rest on your hips, his touch is so gentle and light. He looks so tired tonight, his usual serious face softened with exhaustion from another long day of research, you feel the tension in his body, like he’s barely holding himself together.

You shift slightly in his lap and his grip tightens for a moment. His glasses are askew and you reach up to adjust them, but he grabs your wrist gently before you can. You swear there’s something in his eyes, something so vulnerable and sad that makes your heart ache.

“Leave them,” he mutters. You’ve seen him like this before, late at night when the weight of everything he’s been through catches up to him, when the need for human touch becomes almost unbearable. Thirty years in another dimension with no one to hold, no one to ground him, he’s starved for this. For you.

You don’t argue. Instead, you slide your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with the soft strands of his silvered hair. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a brief moment, as if savoring the feeling of you so close. His hands move from your hips to your waist, pulling you just a little bit closer, and you feel the warmth of him.

“Ford,” you whisper softly, leaning in so that your lips brush the edge of his ear. “you’re overthinking again.”

He huffs out a breath, letting out a low chuckle. “It’s what I do.”

You smile, pressing your forehead to his, your hands moving to cradle his face. There’s something so tender about him right now, something almost fragile. You tilt his chin up slightly, forcing him to look at you and the moment your eyes meet, something shifts. You see the need there, something he can’t tell you about. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, his hands gripping your waist tighter. 

You lean in, your lips barely touch his, and you feel him tense under you, it’s like he’s stressed 24/7. “It’s okay,” you whisper. “I’m here.”

And that’s all it takes.

Ford kisses you, but his kiss is demanding, rough even, that desperate it makes your head spin. His hands slide up your back, pulling you closer against him. It’s like he can’t get enough, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go. 

His tongue brushes against your bottom lip and you part your lips for him, the kiss deepening in a way that makes you dizzy. His fingers dig into your sides, almost too hard, but you don’t care. You want him like this, needy, desperate. He’s been waiting this for far too long.

You shift in his lap, pressing your hips down against his and he groans into your mouth, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs. He’s hard beneath you and that beautiful moan he makes when you grind against him makes you feel something.

“God,” Stanford breathes against your lips, his trembling hands are everywhere now, pulling you closer, like he’s afraid to let go. “i need this, i need you.”

And you can tell he means it.

You pull back slightly, breathless, just enough to catch a glimpse of his face. His cheeks are flushed and there’s a dazed look in his eyes. Ford is trying to compose himself, but it’s clear he’s already lost in the moment. 

Without a second thought, you press a gentle yet sensual kiss to the hollow of his throat, feeling the warm pulse beneath your lips. He shivers at that and a low groan escapes him. “God, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

You can’t help but smile against his skin. You kiss your way up to his jaw, trailing soft kisses along the way. He tilts his head back slightly, giving you more access, and you take the opportunity to shower him in affection, his neck, his jawline, nose, cheeks, the space between his brows.

“You’re. . . fuck,” he stutters, clearly at a loss for words. His hands, those strong yet delicate hands with their six fingers, twitch nervously against your sides. He looks as if he’s unsure where to place them, obviously nervous.

“Ford,” you whisper softly, pausing to meet his eyes. “It’s okay, just hold me. You won’t hurt me.”

His brows furrowing. “I don’t want to- what if I-“

“Just be with me,” you encourage, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on his forehead. “You’re not going to hurt me, i trust you.” he  hesitates still, but you guide his hands gently to your waist, resting them there, showing him it’s okay. “See? Just like that. You’re doing great.”

“I just. . . I haven’t been close to anyone in so long,” he admits. “I don’t know how to. . . how to do this.”

“Just be yourself,” you answer, wrapping your arms around his neck again, drawing him even closer. “You’re amazing, Ford. You’re smart, strong and so incredibly sweet, just let me love you.”

His cheeks flush deeper at your words, and he looks at you with confusion on his face. “Sweet? Me?” he chuckles again. “You’re joking, right?”

“No joke,” you laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth, watching as his lips curve into a smile. “You are, even if you don’t see it. Just let me show you.”

With that, you return to his neck, kissing him softly, teasingly, feeling the way his body responds, every little gasp, every twitch of his fingers, the way his body tense and shakes a bit. The more you kiss him, the more he lets go, losing himself in the sensation. “God, I’m a mess,” he murmurs. “you make me feel so exposed.”

“Good,” you breathe against his skin. “You deserve to feel this way.”

He grips your hips tighter, his six fingers squeezing just enough to make you look at him. “I’m afraid I’ll”-

“-hurt me? you won’t,” you assure him. “Trust me, i’m right here and i want this just as much as you do.”

The tension in his shoulders eases slightly, and he leans into your touch again, his eyes fluttering closed as you shower him with affection. You kiss his forehead, his cheek, his jaw again. But there’s not a second when Ford can relax.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” you hear him whisper again.

“You’re here with me, this is real. You deserve this, Ford.”

He swallows hard, clearly fighting back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “I- I need you,” he tells you.

“It’s okay, just hold me, kiss me, love me.”

Ford's eyes trail down, almost unconsciously, lingering on the curve of your chest. And just for a moment, he looks torn, his gaze flickering between your face and the rise and fall of your breasts. You catch that need in his eyes, the desire that he’s trying to keep under control, but there’s something holding him back. 

A small smile tugs at your lips, and you lean in close. “You can touch me there too, Ford,” you whisper teasingly.

He blinks, his gaze snapping back up to meet yours, wide-eyed, clearly taken aback by your boldness. “I- I don’t. . . I mean, I want to, but- It’s been so long. I don’t even know if I. . . if I’ll do it right.”

Your heart swells at the uncertainty in his voice. Stanford — so brilliant, so confident in everything else, especially science and anomalies, was completely lost when it came to something as simple as touch. You notice it in the way his hands hover, unsure of where to go, where to touch, he’s so lost and confused, his fingers twitching nervously. 

“Here,” you take his hands in yours, you feel them trembling, those large hands with their extra fingers that have always fascinated you. Slowly, gently, you guide them up your body, until they rest on your breasts. The moment his palms make contact, he inhales sharply, unable to look away.

“See? you’re not going to hurt me. Just. . . touch me, Ford. Please.”

He’s frozen for a second, there’s so much tension in his hands, the way they grip you so carefully, like he’s afraid he might break you if he holds on too tight. But then, slowly, his fingers start to move, tracing the curve of your breasts with a soft touch as if he’s exploring something completely new. It’s as if touching you like this has awakened something in him, something he’s kept buried for far too long. You feel his arousal growing, the way his body shifts beneath you, his hands tightening slightly on your breasts.

“You’re doing so good, Ford,” you praise him as you lean into his touch, pressing your chest more firmly into his hands. “just like that.” his grip on your breasts tightening just enough to make soft quiet moan slip out of you. He’s completely lost in the moment, in you. 

“You’re so soft,” Ford says as he watches his hands work over you. “I didn’t think. . .” that’s when he falls silent again, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

“You didn’t think what?” you tilt your head, curious about what he’s feeling.

“I didn’t think it would feel this good,” god, the way he looks at you, both amazed and a bit shy, makes your heartrace even faster. You swear you want that man.

“Good, now you’re getting it.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe I’m touching you like this, it feels incredible. I need you,” he repeats again, such painful desperation in his words, the way he’s holding onto you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. His hands move more confidently now, squeezing, exploring and every touch makes you whimper softly.

“I’m right here,” you say, kissing the side of his face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Ford is so desperate, he feels that tightness in his own pants, but he don’t want to take care of that, not yet, only you are his first priority. He’s staring at you like he can’t get enough, his hands, still resting on your breasts, but now squeezing harder, it’s like he’s testing how far he can go. 

A soft whimper escapes your lips when his fingers caress your nipple and it’s like something inside him snaps. Without warning, he surges forward, his mouth crashing against your neck, kissing you hungrily, desperately, like he’s trying to devour every inch of you. His lips are hot as he moves from your throat to your collarbones, sucking and biting, marking you as his.

“F-fuck, Ford!” you gasp, arching into him, your hands threading through his messy gray hair. You grip tight, tugging just enough to make him groan against your skin. He never stops kissing and marking your skin and you can’t help the way your hips press down into his lap, feeling his hardness growing beneath you.

His mouth moving to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck and your breath hitches, a moan slipping past your lips. “Ford, that feels so good-“ you breathe, your fingers twisting in his hair, making it even messier, pulling him closer, urging him to keep going. 

“Does it?” he asks against your skin. You can feel the way his lips curl into a smile, Stanford nips at your collarbone. “Tell me how it feels. I want to hear you.”

“It’s. . . nnhah, yes, it’s amazing,” you pant as his teeth graze your skin. “Don’t stop, Ford, please- just like that.”

His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you down harder against him, his bulge pressing against your core. “I can’t stop, princess, you’re driving me fucking crazy.”

You’re so happy that Ford starts to show his feelings at least a little more freely now, because you never knew that this scientist was capable of such a thing.

His lips move lower, sucking and biting, leaving your skin red and raw, you’re moaning at his kisses, the heat between your legs growing unbearable. 

“F-Forddd,” your voice breaking as you tug at his hair again, pulling his mouth back up to yours. You crash your lips against his, tasting the desperation on his tongue as he kisses you hungrily, like he’s starving for you. His hands grip your ass, grinding your hips down against him until you’re both panting, both trembling with need.

“Sweetheart, I want you so bad,” Ford mutters against your lips, then he pulls back just enough to look at you. “Tell me what to do. I don’t- I don’t want to fuck this up.”

You smile. “You’re doing everything right,” your fingers stroking through his hair, soothing him. “Just keep going. Touch me, kiss me, make me yours.”

That seems to push him over the edge. You let out a choked moan while his hands are everywhere now, grabbing, squeezing, exploring. Finally, finally he’s opening up. His kisses grow more aggressive, more demanding, as he nips at your skin, his fingers digging into your thighs, your waist, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you. 

“You’re so perfect, baby,” he groans and then laughs, looks like his emotions are pretty unstable now and that takes hold of him. “Hahah, I- I can’t believe you’re real.”

“Ford, please,” you arch into him, your body begging for more. “I need you to-“

But before you can finish, his lips are on yours again, kissing you with a hunger that takes your breath away. His hands cup your breasts, squeezing harder now, his fingers pinching your nipples through your shirt, and you gasp against his mouth.

“You feel so fucking good, princess, i don’t even know what I’m doing, but fuck, I want to touch you everywhere.”

And he does.

Ford fucking grips your hips like he’s terrified you’ll disappear. His hands tremble, his movements growing more erratic, like he’s trying to drown himself in you, in your taste, in your touch. 

But even when his body is pressed against yours, you can feel the cracks starting to show. 

Suddenly, Ford pulls back, his chest heaving, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes are squeezed shut, his jaw clenched tight, his lips trembling.

“I can’t- I don’t, i don’t deserve this. I don’t know how to do this.”

You look at him, your heart breaking at the sight. “Ford,” you start, but he shakes his head, his eyes still shut.

“I’ve been gone for so long, thirty years. . . God, thirty fucking years. I’ve been out there, and it’s like I’ve forgotten how to feel anything. This. . . you,” his voice cracks. “I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I can be here. Not really.”

His words make your chest tighten, the directness of his confession hits you like a punch in the gut. You literally feel the weight of his trauma, the years he spent lost in other dimensions, fighting things that no one else could even comprehend. And here he is, in front of you, vulnerable, fragile, terrified, touch-starved.

“Ford, look at me,” you whisper, cupping his face gently in your hands. His eyes flicker open and you see the clear pain, the unshed tears that he’s been holding back for far too long. “You’re here now. You’re with me.”

“I still see him. Every fucking night,” he sighs deeply. “that demon, it’s like he’s still in my head. The nightmares, they won’t stop. Sometimes I think I’m still trapped there, that none of this is real.” Ford feels like he’s admitting something shameful so he tries to talk quieter than usual. “I can’t shake it. I can’t shake him.”

You lean in, pressing soft kisses to his forehead, his temple, his cheek. “You’re safe, Ford,” you tell him between kisses. “I’m here. You’re here. He’s gone.”

“I don’t know how to believe that,” Ford’s fingers clench in your shirt, holding onto you like a lifeline. “What if. . . what if he comes back? What if I lose everything again?”

“He’s not coming back. You’re not going to lose me. You’re not going to lose any of this. Not again.”

His body is shaking with overwhelming emotions and before you know it, he pulls you to him, burying his face in your neck. His hot breath burns your skin and then you feel it. The wetness of his tears, the quiet sobs that escape from him, muffled by your embrace. Ford’s body shakes as he lets go, all these nightmares and pain. You cradle him against you, letting him cry, letting him feel the safety of your hug. 

“Fuck,” he sobs, he clutches you to him, his grip almost bruising. “I can’t- God, I can’t do this, i don’t know how to be here, how to be with you. I don’t know how to live without feeling like I’m going to lose it all again.”

The corners of your lips are down, tears pricking at your own eyes as you hold him tight, one hand threading through his hair, the other rubbing soothing circles into his back. “Ford, listen to me,” you whisper, trying to sound okay despite the lump in your throat. “you don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to know everything. You’ve been through hell and back and it’s okay to be scared. But you’re here now, with me. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Ford is afraid you’ll slip away if he won’t hold you tight enough. “I’m scared,” he admits. “I’m so fucking scared.”

You kiss him again, this time on the lips, soft and tender, tasting the salt of his tears. “You’re allowed to be scared, but you’re not alone. Not anymore.”

He kisses you back, but it’s so messy, a sob escaping him into the kiss, his touch filled with so much emotion it makes you want to cry together with him.

“You’re not alone,” you say again, reminding him, trying to get it into his head as you kiss his tears away. “You’re here, with me. You’ve survived, Ford. You’ve survived so much. And now it’s time to live.”

His fingers digging into your skin like he’s holding on for dear life. “I don’t know how to let go of it, all the fear, the pain. I don’t know how to stop it.”

“You don’t have to let go of it all at once, but you can let me help. You don’t have to carry it alone anymore.”

Ford’s eyes are red from tears. And for the first time in what feels like forever, you see it — a glimmer of hope, even through all that pain and fear.

“Okay. . . Okay. Just don’t leave me.”

“Never,” you whisper, kissing him again. “I’m never leaving you.”

Ford’s body slowly starts to relax as he allows himself, for the first time in years, to feel safe. To feel loved. 

Ford’s breath is still shaky as he clings to you, but there’s something else now, something shifting in the way he holds you, in the way his lips linger just a little too long against your neck, your jaw, your chin. His desperation hasn’t disappeared, it’s just changed. The need to feel, the need to connect, it burns hotter now.

You cup his face, wiping away the last traces of his tears with your thumbs. “I love you, Ford.”

And you kiss him. 

This time, it’s not tentative or gentle, it’s hungry. Because you’re trying to make him understand. You swear you hear his heartbeat, his heart pumps blood like crazy. Ford kisses you like he’s drowning, like he needs you to keep himself afloat, and it’s intoxicating, overwhelming in the best possible way.

Finally, his hands slide under your shirt, fingers grazing your skin. He hesitates for a moment, his fingers trembling as they brush against your ribs and you lean into him, your hands guiding his, encouraging him, showing him it’s okay to want this, to want you. He’s still hard, his length feels painfully tight in his pants, it’s aching, but Ford kisses you again and again, making you moan into his mouth.

“I can’t get enough of you.” 

“Don’t- don’t stop, please.”

His mouth moves lower, trailing down to your breasts, you feel his breath on your skin. Ford takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking gently, his tongue flicking against the sensitive skin.

“G-God, Ford,” you breathe heavily while his mouth works you over, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as his tongue teases you, flicking, sucking on your nipple like he’s fucking starved. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him to keep going.

“You still want, right?” he stops and looks up at you. “I’m just-“

You press a finger to his lips, silencing him with a soft smile. “I’ve never been more sure of anything, i want this. I want you.” so you decide to prove your words as you slip your hand into his pants, fingers wrapping around his thick, throbbing cock, feeling him jump at your touch.

“Ford, are you gonna let me make you feel good?”

“Y-Yeah,” he stutters. “Please, don’t s-stop.”

You start to move your hand, stroking him slowly at first. “You’re doing so good for me,” you purr, your thumb running over the tip of his cock, smearing the precum. “such a good boy, Ford.”

“Ahhh, please, just like that, don’t, nnhah, don’t stop,” his lips part in a breathless moan as your hand strokes him, thumb brushing over the leaking tip. “It feels so good,” he groans, his hips bucking up into your hand as you wrap your fingers tighter around him, moving smoothly, gently. You enjoy the way his breath quickens, the way his face twists in pleasure as you pump your hand, feeling his leaking precum as you take care of hun.

"You're doing so good for me, so perfect, Ford." you lean in to kiss him gently, swallowing his moans as you continue to stroke his throbbing cock, your hand moving up and down in perfect rhythm.

His hands, shaking, reach out, nervous at first, before resting on your thighs. However, the way he looks at you. . . God, the way he looks at you, with such adoration, like you’re the only thing that matters right now, makes your heart melt. 

“Y-you're so beautiful," he says, eyes closing as he gives into the sensation of your warm hand around him. He’s so hard, so sensitive. Leaking.

“Just look at you,” his cock twitches at your words. “so needy, so desperate.” he’s leaning into your touch, needing more.

Ford groans and grunts, his hips thrusting up into your hand, seeking more friction, more pleasure. “I- I can’t-! It’s too much!”

“Just feel, Ford,” you move your hand faster now. “let go.” you guide his hand to his own length, showing him how to match your rhythm. You watch him closely as you can’t get enough of his beautiful face, his brow furrowing as you quicken your pace, fingers working faster over him and you can’t help but smile at the sight of him, his mouth falling open in soft gasps and moans. 

“Oh, God. . . Ohh, this is so-“ he whines, his six fingers trembling around your wrist, and you know he’s close. “I- oh fuck, I’m gonna-“ Ford gasps, his body trembling and you tighten your grip, wanting to feel every bit of him release. The wet sound of your hand gliding over him filling the air. You can’t get enough of the way his body responds, the way his hips buck against your grip, the way he gasps and moans your name like a prayer. It’s all so beautiful. 

Ford’s whole body tenses and he cums hard. His cum spills over your fingers in thick, hot spurts, coating your hand. His head falls back again, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he rides out every last wave of pleasure.

"Oh god, I- I didn’t mean to!" his voice breaking with a mixture of shame when he looks down and sees what happened, his release coating your hand in warm, sticky fluid. "I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be," you whisper, kissing his chin. "You’re perfect, Ford, absolutely perfect."

For a moment, Ford just stares at you, like he can’t believe any of this is real.

“I want to be inside you.” you hear him say and you look at him in surprise, not trying to hide your emotions. You definitely didn't expect to hear this, although you really wanted to feel him inside, you needed him to take you and make love to you. But you thought he would be tired after— “I want to feel you.” his voice interrupts your thoughts.

“Yes, yes, please,” you answer him excitedly, your fingers still gently caressing his length as he recovers. You kiss his jawline, his neck, your lips tracing the lines of his body and face. Ford laughs, his lips twitch into smile, his hand comes to rest on top of yours. He kisses your palm, then your fingers, paying attention to each one while his eyes locked on yours. 

“I love you,” he confesses. Your hand slides back down to his cock, already throbbing again. "and I'm going to make sure you know that." Ford grips your hips, guiding you down until you feel the tip of his cock pressing at your wet entrance. You sigh, the sensation sending shockwaves through you, he’s big, thick, and you can already feel how much he stretches you, just by rubbing himself against your wet folds. 

Holding you, he pushes you down, sinking into you slowly. The sensation is delicious, filling you in a way that makes your eyes roll back, a soft cry escaping your lips. You gasp as he fills you completely, the stretch making you feel so incredibly full. He’s so hot inside you, his cock pulsing. He’s deep, so deep inside you.

"You’re so t-tight,” Ford groans, feeling your pussy clenching around him. "does it feel good, princess? tell me, tell me it feels good." 

You can barely find the breath to speak, but you nod, gripping his shoulders as your hips roll. “Y-yes, Ford, ahhnn, it feels so good” your little cries driving him fucking insane and for a second he thinks all of this is just a dream, that he’ll blink and everything will disappear, but no, here you are, right in front of him. Ford wants to hear you cry for him, to feel every inch of you wrapped around his cock. He wants to know all if this is real. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his eyes glued to where your bodies connect, his hands urging you to sink deeper. “Just like that, take me, fuck me”

“Ohh goddd, Ford,” you whimper, leaning forward to press your forehead against his, your breaths mingling. “please, don’t stop!”

“Such a good girl, you’re doing so good for me, just like that.” his fingers find your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts. 

His control is slipping; it’s obvious by the way his hips are starting to buck up into you, his cock throbbing inside you, stretching and filling you perfectly. “you feel so fucking good. I want you to ride me, princess,” he mumbles. “I need to feel you- all of you.”

His voice breaks on the last word and it makes your pussy pulsate around him once more, but you obey, moving faster, taking him deeper, the slickness between your thighs making each movement smoother. His hands wonder over your body, gripping your waist, your thighs, sliding up your back to hold you as you grind down onto him. And it’s still not enough, Ford thinks he’ll never have enough of you.

“You’re doing so good, princess, s-so fucking good.” the sound of his needy voice makes you melt, and you lean down, pressing your lips to his. His tongue meets yours, hot and eager, as his hands continue to guide your movements, while your moans muffled by him. Ford pulls away to look into your eyes.

“Please, I need to know,” he’s begging, thrusting inside you desperately. “i need to know you’re mine, please”

You grip his face between your hands as you look into his eyes, nearly crying from overwhelming feelings and pleasure as his cock drilling into you. “I’m yours, Ford, im all yours-“

A low moon escapes him at your words, he fucks into you a bit harder, your wetness and tightness drives him crazy and he pulls you down, pushing deeper, until you feel every inch of him, every vein of his cock pulsing inside you, throbbing with need. You let out a soft cry, your hands gripping his shoulders as you ride him. 

Ford watches you lose yourself in the pleasure. “Fuck! I can’t-“ he moans as his hips jerk up into you. “your pussy feels so good, so good, baby, I feel so good-“ 

The sweet tension coiling in your stomach, the pressure building as he thrusts up into you, you throw your head back as every inch of him stretches you. 

“Ford. . . I’m so close,” you whine, feeling him hitting all the right spots inside you.

Ford groans when your pussy tightens around him again and it feels fucking heavenly, he pulls you down for another desperate kiss, you swear your are swollen from so many kisses, but you don’t give a fuck, you want to feel him, every part of him. “Cum for me,” he whispers into your mouth, breathing deeply. “I want to feel you, princess.”

And with one final thrust, you do, your body shuddering as the orgasm crashes over you, your soft walls clenching tight around him. You rock your hips back and forth, never wanting this to end. Ford gasps, hiding his face in your neck to suppress his pathetic, but such beautiful sounds as he finishes inside you, claiming you. You hold him, pulling him even closer as you still roll your hips, feeling his warmth filling you up as he cries out your name, his body trembling.

For a moment, the world is still, the only sound in the room you’re shared heavy breathing as you both come down from the high. Ford’s arms wrap around you, holding you close, his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath you. 

He then presses a kiss to your temple. Ford looks at you like you’re the answer to every question he’s ever had. You’re silent, waiting him to speak because you know he wants to say something. His fingers gently caress your cheek. "You're the only one I want inside my mind. No one else, just you.”

✮⋆˙ how they kiss (x reader)

Stan — fire

Stan’s kisses are not something you just forget

They’re all-consuming, passionate, fiery, rough sometimes, sometimes quick, but they always leave you wanting more even when you think you’ve had enough. No, you’ll never have enough of Stan. His kisses are always so sudden, intense, noisy, leaving you breathless and dizzy, because he is greedy not only for money, but also for you, for your attention.

Stan is especially fond of casually kissing you when you’re resting on his lap while he’s snuggled up in his favorite armchair, the TV playing in the background but neither of you paying attention to it. He relishes in the way you hold onto him while he lazily captures your lips with his. One of his arms is wrapped around your waist, pulling you close while the other rests on the armrest, his thumb gently caressing your skin. 

Or small, but promising kisses when he needs to give a tour to newly arrived tourists. “Hey, sugar, I gotta go now. But before I go-“ there he cups your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. Stan smiles as he leans in and presses his lips to yours in a brief, yet tender kiss.

When the two of you in his car, seats pushed back, his hands pulling you closer until you’re practically on him. He’s so fucking impatient.

Stan never just kisses, he claims you. His lips crash against yours, forceful, as if he’s trying to pull every breath out of your lungs. He kisses you until there's no air left in your lungs. Stan loves to touch you a lot, just feel you next to him is important, one hand gripping your waist, the other buried in your hair, pulling, demanding. He can cross the line sometimes, being too rough, touchy, but you love it. Stan’s hands slide up your waist, gripping, pulling, pressing you closer, as if there’s not enough skin-to-skin contact in the world to satisfy him. Stan knows how to kiss, where to touch, what parts of yours are sensitive, where you need him the most.

His touch is a flame that burns through you. And you swear that kissing him is hot. In all ways possible.

Stan’s mouth drops to your neck, kissing and sucking skin here too. He kisses the curve of your collarbone, leaving marks on your skin, proof of what’s his. “Mmhm, baby,” and just when you start to lose yourself in his warmth, he suddenly pulls away, leaving you gasping, eyes wide and filled with longing. You’re so lost. 

“What’s the matter, sugar? need more?"

He can’t help, he just adores that confused and needy face of yours, yeah, he’ll stop right when you’re aching for more. “Gonna beg for it?” he laughs, his smirk cocky, that asshole is so proud of himself and that makes you whine because he’s so fucking unfair. Stan knows exactly what he's doing, he just enjoys seeing how much you need him. And when you finally break, when you plead for his touch and kisses, nearly crying only to feel his hands and mouth on you again, he gives in, and it’s messy, tongue and teeth, like he’s starving.

Stan’s kisses are possessive, he claims the rights, which say that you are his and no one else will ever kiss you the way he does.

Ford — ocean

Ford is different. So different. Ford is a scientist and he kisses like a scientist. He doesn’t rush. No, Ford likes to study you, take his time like you’re an equation he’s solving. When Ford kisses you, it’s like he’s discovering something new. He’ll pause, looking into your eyes with that analytical smart gaze of his, as if he’s making sure you feel it too, making sure he’s not missing a detail. When he kisses you, he’s trying to memorize the taste of your lips, the curve of your smile, the way you breathe.

Ford loves to brush his thumb over your bottom lip, staring directly into your eyes. “Fascinating,” he’ll murmur. He watches the way your lips part, how your breathing stops when he leans in, eyes half-lidded, he can tell you’re nervous too. 

Ford kisses like a man who’s spent years alone, longing for connection but afraid to reach for it. 

Ford kisses you like you’re a secret only he’s allowed to uncover.

His kisses are slow. His lips linger, barely there, just a ghost of a touch before he pulls away, making you chase him, sometimes it makes you angry because you feel like his damn experiment, while you just want a normal kiss. But Ford is methodical, careful, like you’re something precious to explore. “You’re reacting just as I predicted.” 

And then, when he’s learned everything he can from those soft, little, slow kisses, his grip tightens. Ford becomes more insistent, as if the ocean’s current is pulling you under, deeper into him. His hands slide to the nape of your neck, fingers firm, holding you as his lips finally claim yours fully. The kiss feels like drowning, but in the most beautiful way, slow, consuming, the kind of kiss that leaves you weightless. 

Ford doesn’t leave you breathless the way Stan does. No, he leaves you calm, like waves crashing on the shore in the moonlight, powerful but never rushed. His kiss is something you think about hours after, lingering on your lips like the taste of saltwater after a swim in the ocean.

He’s wanted this for too long, and now that he’s finally allowed himself to have you, he’s going to savour every second, every shiver, every single breath of yours, every gasp of his name.

Stan and Ford could wreck me everyday and id thank them for it

We all agree that Stanley is the sexier brother, right? right.

Somno with Ford and Stan pines (fem!reader)

minors dni

౨ৎ Stanley Pines

Stan’s the type of man who likes to think he’s seen it all, done it all, but the sight of you lying there, all innocent, soft breaths coming out as you sleep? God, it does something to him. He’s never been good at denying himself, and you? You’re the one thing he can’t keep his hands off. He’d hover over you, his rough fingers sliding along the curve of your waist, tugging at the edge of your panties, just to feel your warmth.

“You’ve no idea what you do to me, princess,” he’d whisper, watching your brows furrow in sleep. He’d chuckle, feeling the twitch in his cock as he strokes himself while watching you squirm in your sleep, your soft quiet needy little moans filling the room. He’s not about to hold back, not when you’re so perfect for him like this, laying there all cute and innocent, literally begging him to take you, your voice so angelic. Stan’s hands would grip your thighs, parting them as he mutters, “You’re such a cute little thing when you’re all sleepy, ain’t ya?” 

He would slide your panties to the side, letting his thick fingers rub along your slit, feeling how wet you’ve already become. You tremble. “So cute. . . look at this mess for me already.” his cock would be hard as a rock as he lines it up, pressing slowly, watching the way you push your hips back toward him, even in your sleep, awwwh, so cute, you’re so desperate for him even when you’re not awake. “don’t worry, dollface. I’ll take care of my girl.” he’d whisper, treating you like his personal little treasure.

Stan wouldn’t be gentle either, not tonight, thrusting into you with a low groan, his cock throbbing. “Mhmm, you’re so tight, you feel, aaghh, so good. just like I knew you would.” his hands would grip your hips, pulling you back to meet his every thrust. He’d lean over, his breath hot against your ear, “C’mon, baby, let me hear those little noises, know you love this cock.” he wouldn’t stop until you’re both a mess of sweat and moans, his thrusts would grow harder, faster, the bed creaking under the force of his weight, your sleepy whines driving him closer to the edge.

౨ৎ Stanford Pines

Ford’s a man of control, of logic and all related things, but when it comes to you, you make him lose his mind. He knows it’s wrong, knows he should stop, but the way you lay there, your legs spread. . . he can’t look away. He’d stand there for a moment, fighting the urge, but his hand would already be palming his pulsing cock through his pants, groaning as his fingers wrap around the base, stroking slowly. How badly he needs you.

His breathing stops when he finally touches you, not fully realizing that it’s all real, present.

He’d kneel at the side of the bed, eyes locked on your cute, swollen clit as he slides your panties down, watching how you twitch in your sleep. “i shouldn’t, i can’t. . . but fuck, you’re so wet for me,” you’d shift in your sleep, arching your back. “im so sorry, sweetheart.” he whispers, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t pull back, instead of it, his fingers spread your folds and he runs his finger over your wet entrance, collecting your wetness. His hands shaking slightly. 

You shift in your sleep, again, a soft moan slipping from your lips when Ford’s finger starts circling your sensitive bundle. His fingers would press into your soaked pussy, curling inside you as he mumbles against your skin, “Bet you’ve dreamt of this, haven’t you? dreamt of me filling you up.” his tip would be leaking by now as he’s unable to hold back any longer. “Such a good girl for me.” he’d whisper as he lines up his cock with your dripping cunt, sliding in slowly, feeling how tight you are around him, but oh god, you feel like heaven. His control would snap as he bottoms out, groaning, “Mmmhm, darling, you feel s-so good.”

Ford would fuck you slow and gentle, savoring every second, every soft moan that escapes your lips. “So perfect, so fuckin’ tight. . . need to fill you up, sweetheart.” 

heavenly, beautiful, amazing

Classic

. 𖥔 but you belong to me (Bill x Ford x fem!reader) ˖

tags: nsfw (mdni), rough sex, triangle bill, mind fuck, p in v, oral sex, fingering, dirty talk, overstim, can this be considered as threesome?, billford, bill x reader too, because bill is obsessed with ford and reader

Ford's fingers slide your panties to the side, his thumb teasing your clit. And that’s when you feel it. His presence, slipping into your mind, into your reality. Bill, his voice fills the entire room, he’s watching everything, his creepy laugh echoing in your skull. But then there’s more, what feels like phantom fingers, Bill’s will, twisting reality, adding another layer to the sensation. 

You feel the weight of Bill's presence even before he starts talking. You gasp, feeling both Ford’s physical touch and Bill’s mental invasion. “Awww, baby, I see you squirming, so cute, so innocent, acting like you’re not dying to be fucked right now.”

You swear you feel something like ghostly fingers tracing the inside of your thighs. “You feel that, doll? That’s all me. That little pussy is practically begging for it, isn’t it?” his words curl around your mind, suffocating. “I could make you scream without even laying a single finger on you, doll. Or I could let Sixer here think he’s doing all the work. What do you want, hm? To beg? To cry?” his voice teases you from inside. “come on, you want this, don't you? How about I help make it a little more fun?”

Meanwhile Ford pulls your thighs apart, running his fingers over your skin, “Don’t listen to him, keep your eyes on me.” he whispers, leaning closer to your core.

You can’t. You physically can’t, because Bill’sthere, not touching but everywhere. His voice enters your thoughts, making every brush of Ford’s lips against your skin send electric sparks throughout your whole body. “Touch her more, Sixer, don’t hold back now, you know I don’t like when you do.”

Ford doesn’t stop, as if obeying. His hands are shaking why, Sixer? as they hold your hips, his breath against your soaking pussy, lips dragging down your inner thighs, closer. “Focus on me. Please, I’m right here.”

Your legs tremble and the second his tongue presses against your swollen clit, Bill sends a pulse through your head, flipping the world upside down. The bed disappears, replaced with something dark, flickering lights, shadows, but you still feel Ford’s mouth on you, licking, sucking, groaning into you.

Phantom touches everywhere. Invisible fingers tracing up your inner thighs, circling your wrists, grabbing at your ankles. You cry out, body arching into Ford’s mouth, but there’s something more, something that feels like Bill as you hear his voice in your head, mocking, amused. “Yeah, yeah, good girl, keep whining like that.”

You squirm under Ford’s touch, but your mind’s caught between his soft movements and Bill’s invasion into your senses. He’s twisting reality around you, making you feel as if hands holding you down are Ford’s, maybe, or maybe Bill’s invisible force, pressing down on you while Ford’s tongue fucks you deeper. 

You gasp, hips jerking against Ford’s face, his wet, eager tongue running all over your slit. But it’s Bill who makes these sensations stronger. He pounds your mind with dirty thoughts, makes every flick of Ford’s tongue feel like it’s not just Ford anymore, but something darker, more chaotic, controlling you from the inside. 

“Can he make you scream like I can, doll? you look pathetic like this, so fucking adorable.”

Ford growls in frustration what happened, Fordsy? not getting enough attention?, he drags his tongue up your clit again, sucking it into his mouth while his fingers finally slide inside you, curling, stretching, fucking into you. Your eyes widening, you swear you’re loosing your mind and your fingers clutch at the sheets. You can barely get the words out, because it feels like Bill’s fingers are already inside you too, teasing where Ford can’t reach. It’s like your body is betraying you and you can’t even tell what’s real anymore.

“M-more, please—! so good. . .” moans falls from your lips.

“She’s so wet, Sixer, she’s fucking drenched for you,” Cipher’s sick voice hums inside Ford’s head too.

“Fuck off.” Ford wants to say, but instead he talks to you: “Ignore him. I’m right here, don’t listen to him.” he mutters, pulling away from you for a second before starting to devour you again, tongue swirling around your clit while his fingers drive into you, pressing against that gummy spot and you’re falling apart. But Bill’s mocking laughter fills your ears.

Your body jerks away because it’s just too much, too much sensations they overwhelm you, but Ford’s rough hands pull you back, grabbing your hips as he yanks you closer to his mouth, fingers pumping into you faster, deeper, his tongue pressing against your throbbing clit, sucking. You can’t control the way your legs shake, the way your pussy clenches around his fingers. Ford’s groans are muffled, vibrating through your cunt and it makes your body twitch, thighs squeezing around his head, but he’s not giving in. You taste too damn good.

And Bill’s there. Watching. You scream as Ford's tongue makes you see stars, but it’s Bill who twists your mind to make it feel like there are more hands, more mouths, fingers digging into your skin, phantom lips brushing your neck, your thighs, everything. 

“That’s it, whimper like that. Ford’s doing all the hard work, but we both know who’s really in control, right?” Bill laughs and your vision blurry with how fast Ford’s moving his fingers, shoving them deep into your dripping pussy, creating these filthy squelching sounds, but Bill is flooding your mind, until you’re whimpering, shuddering, begging for more.

Ford's mouth is still working you over, he swirls his tongue on your tortured clit as his fingers curling inside, knuckle deep, drawing you closer to orgasm because you feel oh so fucking good your toes curl. But Bill’s voice is right there, crawling through your head like an infection.

Your body shakes, every nerve alive as Ford’s groan vibrates against your pussy. “I said, focus on me,” he whispers in a serious tone, plunging his fingers a little bit rougher into your wet cunt, reaching deeper. "Just me."

“Aww, isn’t that cute? you really think she’s with you, Fordsy? she’s already halfway gone, look at her, all fucked out.”

Stanford isn’t letting Bill win this. Not tonight.

Without a word, Ford grabs your thighs, pulling you closer to his body. His gaze lingers on you, on your face, your eyes stare into his, confused. Ford rarely feels this emotion, but right now he's angry, not at you. He's angry at himself for letting this happen, for messing with this demon and dragging you, the most precious thing he have, into this fucked up mess. Although he promised himself that there wouldn’t even be a hint of Bill in your life. Then how did he let such shit happen. . .?

“You're so thoughtful, Sixer. That's why I like you, even when she's lying all wet and needy under you, you still think about me. Isn't it true love?”

“F-fuck you,” Ford mutters under his breath and you give him a bleary look, your eyelashes fluttering. 

“Look at you two— pathetic. . . so desperate to feel me, aren’t you just two sick weirdos?” Bill mocks.

You don’t get time to say something as Ford slides his cock between your folds, slapping his leaking tip against your clit couple of times and then he slams into you in one swift move. You cry out, head tilting back. “You’re so tight, honey, even after I prepared you, mmhm, fucking perfect,” Ford groans, poor man can’t get enough of your wetness and tightness, as he punctuates each thrust with a hungry moan. His cock hitting so deep you can’t help but cry out, a mix of pleasure and shock. 

“Fordfordfordford—“ you repeat over and over again, mind too dumb to form anything else than just his name, you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close to the kiss.

Bill’s laugh cuts through the air like static, he’s everywhere, inside your head, inside your body, like he’s fucking you from the inside out, dragging every ounce of pleasure from your soul without even needing to touch you. “That’s right, doll. Let him fuck you, such a good little toy.”

Ford's face turns serious as he watches you become boneless, when you look at him through these beautiful tears of pleasure, but he doesn’t let you time to adjust, driving into you without mercy.

“Ouch, Fordsy, so rough. What made you that mad?” 

Ford is trying to drown out Bill’s voice, trying to lose himself in you. “Shut up,” he pants, his forehead presses to yours, eyes squeezed shut. “Just shut up.” but you can hear the way his voice trembles, his mind isn’t entirely here either. Bill got him, too.

“You really think you’re the one making her feel good?”

Ford leans down, pressing you into the mattress, his weight crushing into you, hands grabbing at your thighs to spread you open wider, forcing you to take him deeper. He buries himself as far as he can, because he wants, needs, to make sure only he can fuck you like that, only he can reach that deep inside your body till his tip rubs against your cervix. He groans into your neck. “You’re mine— not his. Mine.” 

There’s Bill again. “Does this cunt feel good, Sixer?” 

“Goddammit, Bill—” Ford hisses, but even as he protests, his movements quicken, his cock drilling into you repeatedly, so needy, he’s just as lost in it as you are. His thumb circles your clit to bring his lovely girl more pleasure, but it’s like Bill’s controlling the pace, dragging it out, making it impossible for you to think straight.

Ford grits his teeth, thrusting harder, making the bed shake beneath you. His hands are on your thighs, his cock driving into you with desperate, determined thrusts. “Ignore him, he’s nothing,” he whispers into your ear, but it sounds like he’s telling that to himself more than all. Ford kisses the side of your neck, groaning your name, his hips never stopping, pounding into you in deep, relentless thrusts while you hold onto him, feeling how hot his body is.

But how can you ignore Bill, when he’s slipping into your thoughts like he belongs there, his influence wrapping around your mind like an invisible hand on your throat?

Your legs tremble, body arching under him, Ford moves even deeper, rearranging your insides and you scream. “Ahh—! ahhn, damn— Ford, Ford! sl-slow down”

His cock throbs inside you, kissing your cervix, he hates being that rough, but he can’t help himself, trying to claim you, mark you, keep you away from Bill. 

Ford kisses you, hungrily, so damn messy, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth and all you can do is cling to him, your body shaking as he pounds into you, his cock pulses, grinding into that spot inside you that makes you claw at his back, nails dragging down his skin as your mind goes hazy from the pleasure.

But Bill’s not backing down. “Fucking pathetic, Sixer. Look at her, she’s still thinking about me while you’re fucking her. Can’t even keep her focused, can you?” that makes Ford’s grip on you only tighten, fingers digging into your skin as he slams into you harder, trying to get you back to reality when he sees your eyes rolling, you’re whining pathetically, your mind nothing but a fog. Ford wishes he can fuck you so deep and good that there’s no room for Bill in your head. And his too.

Ford presses closer as if he could block Bill out just by being inside you. His hands gripping so hard you know there’ll be bruises tomorrow, but right now, you’re too lost in the way Ford’s cock feels deliciously good inside you, filling you just in the way you always wished. “He can’t have you, you’re mine, honey, mine—” Ford stutters. “fucking look at me, sweetheart.” his hand wraps around your throat, not tight, but enough to pin you down, keep you in place as he slams into you, hips snapping forward with punishing thrusts that make tears roll down your cheeks.

But Bill’s presence won’t leave. His voice is like a knife in the back of your mind and Ford feels it too, but before you know it, he’s flipping you over, pulling you onto all fours. He slams into you from behind, his cock stretching you wide, what has you gasping, barely able to hold yourself up. He continues to fuck you into oblivion, thrusting into you so hard, desperate to claim you, to own you in the way only he can and all you do is moan into the sheets, your body trembling beneath him, your body so damn hot you feel you gonna explode. 

Ford grips your waist, pulling you back against him and you hear him moaning, “Fuck. . . haahhn, you feel so g-good, please, baby, pleasee,” Ford doesn’t know what he’s begging for, but he’s grinding into you, hitting that spot again and again, what feels like he’s splitting you apart, but Bill just laughs at that. Sixer, you’re always so needy

“Oh, you should see yourself right now, doll! bent over like a perfect little toy, drooling all over Sixer’s cock, what a show!”

You’re panting like a dog, barely able to breathe with how fast Ford’s fucking you, euphoria overwhelming your brain, the slap of skin against skin loud in the room. 

“C’mon, baby, don’t you wish it was me fucking you? my energy pulsing through that tight little cunt of yours, id fill you up so fucking full, you’d be shaking, just begging for more, i can feel how much you want it. All that innocence in your pretty little head? Gone, fucking ruined.”

Ford hears it too and grabs your shoulders, pulling you up against his chest, one arm wrapping around you like he’s trying to shield you from Bill’s gaze, keeping you close, possessive. Your pleasure building higher with every dirty word Bill throws at you, the way he mocks you and Ford. . . it’s so fucked up, you shouldn't get that damn wet from it.

“She’s all yours, huh? Funny, she’s about to cum and it won’t be because of you, IQ.”

“Fuck, no!” Ford snaps. “You’re mine, he’s not touching you, honey, focus on me, baby, dammit—“ he grunts loudly nearly into your face as he’s trying to make you look at him.

But Bill only gets crueler. “Aww, you hear that? he thinks he owns you, thinks he’s in control. But look at her, Sixer, she’s soaking your cock just from the sound of my voice. You can feel it, her cunt squeezing every time I talk, pathetic, isn’t it? she’s fucking pathetic.”

“Fo-Ford—! ahhnnn, I’m so close!” hearing your voice, Ford slips his hand down to rub your clit, while pressing sweet kisses on your neck, whispering what a good girl you are and begging you to cum on his cock, trying to get your mind onto something else than this demon.

But Bill isn’t done. Not even close.

“Ohhhh, you like that, baby? like when he fucks you hard like that? i bet you’re imagining what it would feel like if I were the one splitting you open instead. God, I’d tear that sweet cunt apart, fill you up so full, you’d be dripping all over the floor. You’d be fucking ruined, doll.”

Ford’s fingers digs into your skin, he’s trying so hard to pretend Bill isn’t here. “That's it, there’s my good girl, i love you s-so, fuck, so much, sweetheart,” he groans into your ear in such needy tone as if it’s the only thing keeping him from losing it completely.

If not Ford holding you, you’d surely fall because your body shaking so hard you can’t control yourself, these absolutely pornographic moans you make because your brain just melts as Ford’s cock keeps slamming into you. Your pussy clenches tight around him, you’re so wet, so fucking soaked, that the sound of him fucking you hard is so obscene, filling the room with the wet slap of his cock driving deep inside you, again and again. 

“Close, baby? Let go. Cum for him. Show him how fucking easy it is to break you.”

As if obeying Bill's words, Ford’s finger moves faster on your clit, cock pounding into you relentlessly.

“Good fucking girl. Cum for me.” now you have no idea who says that, but your orgasm crashes over you, your body shaking in Ford’s embrace, your cunt tightens hard around his cock and you cry out, mind spinning and empty, nothing fills it except Ford’s groans and Bill’s degradation. However Ford doesn’t stop moving even now as he pulls you deeper onto his cock and that’s when pleasure becomes painfully too much to handle. “Mine. . .” Ford tries to block out Bill’s voice with his own. 

But Cipher’s words sounds in both your heads. “Look at him, baby, he can’t get enough of you, can’t blame him, I’d fuck you too, but this, this is better, isn’t it?“ Bill is so caring he doesn’t forget about his lovely Sixer. “Is that all you’ve got, Fordsy?”

“Get out of my head, you b-bastard,” Ford growls, but the way his voice sounds, he’s losing it. His thrusts are so sloppy and desperate, as he tries to reclaim control, but Bill’s grip is stronger.

“Not until I’ve had my fun.” Bill whispers.

Ford’s lips hover against your ear. “Tell me. . . hngh, tell me he’s not in your head right now.” but there’s a tremor in his voice, because he knows it’s useless to fight it. Bill’s everywhere, in your thoughts, in your body, pulling every thread and Ford’s just as tangled in it as you are.

Ford tries to fuck image of Bill out of your head, out of your body, but it’s impossible, because now, that’s where he belongs. You feel both of them, in your mind, in your body, you’re both mess of moans and whines, so damn loud, but Bill adores it, it's been so long since he's heard his beloved Sixer whine like a bitch.

Ford’s hands on your your waist, fingers digging into your skin as he drives himself deep inside you from behind, your body arching into the sheets with each powerful thrust, you’re so lost in it, the overwhelming sensation, but then you feel Ford falter for a second. 

He thinks. “Fuck, he’s watching, isn’t he. . . Bill’s— he’s seeing this through me.“ Ford knows Bill like the back of his six-fingered hand, which is why he ends up being right. Cipher’s gaze burning through Ford’s perspective, he’s seeing every fucking inch of you, the way you arch for him. There's not much Ford can do about it, only trying to cover you from the all-seeing eye. But Ford is fucked up, just like Bill. He can’t help himself because the thought of Bill watching only drives him into you deeper. The way you’re taking him, yeah, Bill is getting a front-row seat. This angle, this view, Bill is seeing you like this, watching your ass bounce, watching your pussy swallow Ford’s cock. That’s why Bill got so quiet now?

"He’s— fuckk, he’s probably loving every second of it. You look so beautiful, darling." Ford’s voice breaks into a moan. "but he’s not the one fucking you, he can’t feel this— nghn, can’t feel how tight you are, how wet you are for me, oh god—!”

Pleasure tightening in your belly again, your legs shaking and suddenly you feel like you can’t breathe anymore, can’t focus on anything, your heart beats so hard. You’re close, so fucking close and it’s like Bill knows. “Go on, doll, cum,” his voice a hypnotic command. “let me hear you scream again.”

"F-Ford, I'm—"

“Yes, yes, cum for me, be a good girl and finish on my cock again, please,” Ford’s cock twitching at the feeling of your little hole squeezing him.

The pressure in your core snaps as you cum, muscles clenching hard around Ford's length, you’re shaking and trembling again, the sensation too much, too overwhelming and you’re such a damn mess, all sheets are covered in your juices, saliva and tears. Your vision goes white as you cry out, pulsing around him and Ford's name falls from your lips in broken gasps.

Ford’s thrusts stutter and you feel him start to pull out, he’s about to spill himself on your back, just like always, but then Bill's voice is heard again. “Oh, no, no, no! That’s not how this ends, Sixer.”

You hear Ford’s sharp gasp and then his hips slam forward one last time, burying his cock deep inside you again, Bill’s controlling him. You barely have time to process it before Ford groans, his dick twitching, filling you up with his cum, hot and thick. “Ohhh, fuck—! fuck, I— I didn’t— Shit, Bill, you—“ it’s like his body doesn’t belong him, Ford still moving inside you, much slower as he pumps you full of cum, until some of it starts leaking out.

Bill’s laugh fills the room. “Oh, look at that. Isn’t this just fucking perfect? Look how deep I’ve got him in you, doll. Can you feel it? Feel him throbbing inside you? That’s all me. Bet you love it! You’d let me do it again, wouldn’t you?”