My Silly Blog

꩜.ᐟ pre portal paranoid!Ford would definitely use it as survival mechanism. it would calm him down, keep him sane. the only way he can fall asleep again is knowing you're full of him (it needs its own fic)

꩜.ᐟ another pre-portal paranoid!ford thought: you don't know how much you help him actually. how he'll appear from a 20-hour shift in the lab, his brain literally pulsing, body trembling, hands unsteady, you don't know how desperate he is by the time he reaches you. he needs to bury himself inside just to breathe again.

꩜.ᐟ pre portal ford! thinks he'll go insane if you wont let him fuck you

anyways back to our lovely old man ford

꩜.ᐟ you gasp when he pushes you onto the desk, moan when he spreads you open and tremble when he whispers in your ear that you're ovulating and he's going to breed you. and despite the fact that you always smile and call him a pervert, your soft walls squeeze him so tight every time he says it

꩜.ᐟ Ford makes u take it and he doesn't stop until he knows you're completely full of him. he keeps his hands on your stomach, pressing, feeling how his cock reaches deeper inside, as if he could ensure that you stay filled just the way he need you to be

꩜.ᐟ and. . . then the shame sets in, the guilt

꩜.ᐟ when after, you stroke his hair, kissing him, telling him it’s okay. but it’s not. it's damn not

꩜.ᐟ because Fords knows the truth. he knows he'll do it again. and that knowledge alone is enough to ruin him

꩜.ᐟ and now he, regrettably, memorised your cycle. at first, it was “unintentional” simply observations noted in passing, as any man of science would. then it became smth bordering on obsessive. now, he knows exactly when you're at your most fertile. he knows that when he touches you on those nights, you react differently, your body welcomes him differently

Ford knows he should be disgusted with himself for using this knowledge the way he does. he should resist. but he doesn't

꩜.ᐟ goddamn, he knows it’s invasive and it’s not something he should do without asking, but he's a creep. he couldn’t stop himself

꩜.ᐟ he knows when you’re ovulating, knows all the signs. and he loves how your body is begging for it without you even realising

꩜.ᐟ he marks it in his journal, writes down when you get your period, when you complain about cramps, when you seem unusually sensitive and most importantly when you’re fertile. he knows the window, the days he have to make love to you if there’s going to be any chance of conception

꩜.ᐟ but honestly Ford never used to care about kids, his mind always was busy with smth else, for example, saving the galaxy. he never thought about having children because his life was always too dangerous, but now every time you have sex, it’s on his mind, wondering if this is the time, if he'll push himself deep enough, letting his seed coat your insides and stay

꩜.ᐟ you mentioned it once, offhand, said, ‘Ford, what if we had a baby?’ and he almost fell to his knees and thanked you for even considering it

꩜.ᐟ now he fantasies about it, you pregnant, your cute belly swelling, your breasts growing heavier. he wishes to read to you every night, read to the baby, talk to them through your skin

꩜.ᐟ Ford can't help but imagine a child with your eyes and his hair, or perhaps the reverse. a little one clinging to your leg while you cook breakfast, or sitting on his lap while he reads to them from one of his journals, simplifying the complex concepts so they can understand. . . ahhggghhgg

꩜.ᐟ congratulations, its affecting him during sex now. he can't stop thinking about coming inside you without restriction, without fear, about letting it happen naturally, so you would have begged for it yourself. he caught himself saying things, very filthy things, about breeding you, about wanting to watch you swell with his child and the worst part is how much you respond to it

꩜.ᐟ Ford knows that when his sweetheart is ovulating, the cervix moves higher. its softer too, more open. and last night, he damn felt it. pressed the head of his cock right against it, pushed deep and when you gasped, cried out and your glossy eyes widened, he knew you felt it too, he told you he was right at your womb, told you he was filling it and you just whimpered. god, it made him lose his mind

꩜.ᐟ you told him he was too deep but he couldn’t stop, even growled while hiding this pathetic sound in your neck. he had to press into it until he was buried inside you. because for him, he was claiming you, touching the most intimate part of your body, a place only he should reach

꩜.ᐟ Ford doesn't really know what to say when you keep asking him why he's so intense lately. why he stares at you so much. he can’t tell you it's because he's counting the days till your next fertile window

꩜.ᐟ i just know he's a pervert, big pervert, even if he hides it behind “im just observing”, nah. so Ford always spreads you open after. he hates himself for it, but he just have to watch it drip out, see how much of him is still inside you. and fuck, you get embarrassed, squirming and trying to close your thighs but Ford doesn’t let you. he needs to see. needs a proof that he was there

꩜.ᐟ and. . . he didn’t mean to go down on you after finishing inside, but he had to. had to taste the both of you. you were still so sensitive, fluttering and weeping, but that didn't stop him. he had to lick you clean after he came inside you. doesn't matter how filthy it is, it’s. . .uh, it’s scientific! really! making sure it’s all there! making sure nothing’s gone to waste!

he looked good with your mess on his face tho

꩜.ᐟ every time he comes into you as deep as he can, he barely holds back from falling on top of you after after, he just cant resist when you look up at him, dazed, and whisper, ‘again?' smiling and swaying ur hips

꩜.ᐟ the other night, Ford caught himself thinking, what if he kept you so full of him, you couldn’t walk straight? what if he fucked you so thoroughly your legs shook for hours afterward? he loves the idea of your body remembering him, carrying the imprint of him

꩜.ᐟ you asked him to try a new position, smth called the 'mating press.' he didn’t know what it was and felt foolish, having to ask, but when you explained, his brain went blank. he couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, he had to try it right then. he folded your legs back, knees by your ears, and pushed so deep, deeper than he knew was possible

꩜.ᐟ he came inside you like that, immediately. couldn’t stop. held your legs up and just. . . stayed there. plugged you full, thrusting deep, while holding you close as you cried in his shoulder. he groaned and whined loud as fuck too

꩜.ᐟ “mating press was a mistake. an irreversible, devastating mistake.” he attempted it once, under the illusion that he would be able to maintain some semblance of control, but the second he felt his sweetheart that deep, the moment your body trembled like that. . .

꩜.ᐟ you told him once, in the early hours of the morning, when you were still sleepy, that you'd never felt so safe as when you're lying in his arms after he fucked you full. that you need him like this. need him to fill you up and keep you warm, to hold you close. Ford has not stopped thinking about it since

꩜.ᐟ he thought he was sick for needing you this much. for wanting to stay inside you even after he had already finished, just so he could feel you clench around him again, so he could keep himself as deep as possible for as long as possible. he thought he was sick. but when he did it for the first time, pressed his weight down onto you, stayed buried inside you, let his cock soften while you pulsed around him, you didn’t protest, only held him tighter. you wanted it too. and it made him smile against your skin

STANLEY

꩜.ᐟ jesus fucking christ, do you even know what you do to him? what you have been doing to him every day since the moment he met you?

꩜.ᐟ Stan swears to god, doesn’t matter if you've fucked once, twice, a hundred times, all he ever think about is your pussy and how good you feel every damn time

꩜.ᐟ he finds it amusing how you always call him a dirty old man, even when secretly you like it too. hell, you love it! all that tough talk, but you go all soft the second he pulls you on his lap

꩜.ᐟ Stanley realised this kink when he spent three months out at sea with Ford. three whole fucking months. do you have any idea what that does to a man? what it does to him? as soon as he got home, he threw his duffel on the floor, grabbed you, carried you straight to the bedroom (god i love this idea sm)

꩜.ᐟ he literally couldn't keep his greedy hands off you. didn't even think about a condom, didn't ask if you were on anything, just threw you on the bed, yanked off your panties, kissed you senseless and. . . no, didn’t just fuck you. he made love to you. so gently snd slow, so deep, praising you, holding you in his arms. kissed you all over, told you that you're perfect, that he missed you. Stan wasn't gonna stop until you were begging him for more. and damn, you were clinging to him, keeping your legs locked around him after, wouldn’t let your Stanley go. cried a bit more, kissed his neck, said he's never allowed to leave again. so he didn’t, he stayed inside you. stayed as long as you needed him to.

꩜.ᐟ that night, he filled you up real deep, held you tight so you'd know it was real, that he was here and he wasn’t going nowhere. you felt so fucking warm he didn’t wanna pull out. now you're his home. his everything

꩜.ᐟ so after that, he never knew he'd get so obsessed with it. caught himself wondering last night, were you fertile? did it matter tho? he didn't care, just wanted to keep you full, even if there wasn’t a chance

꩜.ᐟ he's not sure if you're trying for a kid or not, but he tries not to overthink about it too much. you want it, he wants it, and even if its not about kids, he'd still be fucking you just the same, still be filling you up until you're dripping with it, still be pushing it back in with his fingers and telling you to keep it there, hold it there, “good fucking girl”

꩜.ᐟ and yeah, Stan loves pushing it back in with his fingers. when he pulls out and it starts leaking out of your pussy, he just always uses his thick fingers to push it back in. keeping his thumb on your overstimulated throbbing clit, two fingers sliding his cum right back inside. he tells you it’s so it doesn’t go to waste. so you don’t miss a chance. you never stop him though

꩜.ᐟ loves it when you’re too dumb to speak. just a lil ragdoll for him, taking everything he gives you. yeah, you’re smart, but not when he's done with you

꩜.ᐟ he needs to keep you filled up, stuff you with himself every chance he gets, doesn’t matter if you're on the pill or no, doesn’t matter if you want a kid or not. i mean, it’s not even about the baby, but about knowing the he could. he could get you all knocked up if he wanted to, put a little part of himself inside you and make you his in every goddamn way

꩜.ᐟ because why’s it so good? why’s it so fucking addictive?

꩜.ᐟ with time, Stan noticed its getting bad. real bad. he can't stop thinking about you swollen with his kid, walking around the shack all round, telling everyone it’s his baby growing inside you. Stan literally sweats. god, you’d look so good pregnant. . .

꩜.ᐟ he started paying attention to your behaviour. counting days in his head whenever you mention cramps or headaches, making mental notes when you buy pads or complain about bloating. he's not a damn scientist like Ford, but he's not stupid either, he knows what it means when it’s been a while and you’re not bleeding

꩜.ᐟ in his dirtiest fantasies he wants to catch you when you’re ovulating, corner you against the wall, yank your clothes down, and fuck you so deep you can’t help but take it. he needs to finish inside you and keep you full, hold you there after, make sure it sticks. hell, he'd do it over and over and over until there’s no chance it didn’t work

꩜.ᐟ you asked Stan once if he thought he'd be a good father and he couldn’t answer you. although, the thought of you round with his kid makes him feral, he's scared he'd end up like his old man. he's sure he'd be a shitty dad, Stan thinks he's too rough and loud, too much like him. but. . . if you wanted it. if you asked him for a baby. fuck. he'd thank you for trusting him with smth like that. for letting him make a family with you

꩜.ᐟ also every time he thinks about you full with his seed, it happens when he's fixing the vending machine, holding a wrench in his hand. jesus. and every time, he has to take a 'smoke break' just to calm down