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Collage Ford/Female Reader

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The touch against your lower back under your shirt is fucking electric.

“And you haven’t touched any one else like this?” You ask.

Ford is bright red. You can practically hear the tea kettle whistle coming out of his ears.

“N-no,” He stammers. “They all thought I was a freak.”

“Well they’re wrong.” You can’t get the words out fast enough. “Fuck, Stanford, six fingers feels fucking amazing.”

Your words seem to give him confidence and he moves his hands further up your back.

When he reaches the bottom of your bra, he freezes, but you lean into his touch.

“I meant what I said,” you tell him. “Fucking touch me already.”

He watches your face as he slides his hands around to your front and under your bra.

You gasp at the contact. His hands are warm and soft and…. “Perfect.”

The poor boy looks like he’s about to explode. “Really?” He sounds so hopeful. It’s adorable.

You nod and moan as his fingers find your nipples, fisting his sweater with both hands as he plays with you.

Fuck! Ford, I’m never letting anyone with five fingers touch me again.”

That’s when he kisses you.

He’s fucking panting against your mouth between whining needily and you move your hands to his waist to pull him closer and grind against him. 

He’s hard, you can feel it, and that’s what you grind against, the bulge in his pants. 

He lets out an airy moan and he’s so cute, the way he’s coming apart at your touch. 

Although, to be fair, you’re not doing much better.

You’re fucking soaked between your legs and you want him to use one of his amazing six fingered hands on you damnit, but the way he’s mewling into your desperate kisses tells you that maybe that would be too much for him. 

He pinches one of your nipples and you squeak, the pool between your legs growing. 

“Ford...” you moan in a voice that doesn’t sound at all like yours.

He finally stops kissing you and pulls back. His face is cherry red and his eyes are huge. “Yes?”

“Touch me,” you beg, practically humping him through your clothes by now. “Please Ford......”

He looks confused. “But I am—“

You shake your head and take one of his hands and shove it under your skirt. By now your panties are completely soaked through so there’s literally no way he won’t know what you’re asking. 

It’s like flipping a switch. As soon as he feels just how wet you are, his jaw drops and he looks to you to where his hand is and back again. 

“You don’t have to,” you pant. “If this is too much for you I’ll under-STAND!”

Ford cut you off by plunging two fingers inside of you and your knees just about give out. 

“I do this to you?” He sounds like he can hardly believe it. 

You can’t speak. All you can let out is a loud moan as you fist his hair with one hand. 

“I do this to you,” he says again softly, this time to himself, and he grins. 

“Me,” he says, adding a third finger and picking up the pace, and you shriek so loud he has to shut you up by kissing you hungrily. 

You groan into the kiss and ride his fingers, and when he pulls away you’re right back to talking. 

“Fuck Stanford, you have it all.” Your voice is a little slurred from pleasure but neither of you care. “You’re cute, you’re smart, and I’ve never been this turned on in my life.” 

His face is in your neck now. “Really?” 

“Do you not feel how fucking wet you make me?” 

He murmurs something into your neck that you don’t hear. 

You go on.

“You’re gonna make some girl very happy one day,” you pant. “She’s gonna be with the most handsome guy, a complete genius, have your brainiac babies.....”

Ford moans, deep and heavy, into your neck, and mutters something that sounds like “With you.”

“What was that?” You manage to ask, and he groans loudly before repeating himself loud enough for you to hear this time. 

“Want that.....with you......” He kisses you hard. “Just with you.” 

It’s the straw that broke the camels back and you’re so desperately turned on and close to climax that it’s like Ford just said the golden words.

You nod. “Yes.” Right now nothing sounds better. “God, fuck, yes.” 

You’re working at his pants before he is and between your desperate movements they’re finally around his ankles and then he picks you up and you wrap your legs around his waist and then, oh god, then.....

Ford is fucking into so hard you’re bouncing with every thrust and you’ve lost all ability to speak and Ford’s mouth is on your neck again, licking and biting and panting “With you” over and over and over and over again. 

You come like lighting, like a tsunami, so white hot you swear you go blind for just a moment. 

Ford’s not done, but that’s fine. You pet his hair and let him rut inside you, all while praising him to the ends of the earth. 

“Do you have any idea how hard I just came?” You let out a breathless laugh. “Fuck Ford, I was right about what I said earlier. You really are gonna make someone really happy one day.”

He finally moves his head from your neck to kiss you, and when it ends you can see that his eyes are still glossed over. “You,” he says again. “I want it to be you.” 

You smile and kiss him back. “Sure thing, genius. It can be me.” 

Ford makes a needy sound. “Genius,” he repeats softly, his hips beginning to move at an erratic pace, and you know he’s about to come. 

You’re pretty sure you’ll know what’ll get him there.

“You’re a genius,” you say again. “And you’re gonna make me so happy and give me all of your six fingered babies and—“

You feel it as he comes, hot and thick, as he moans deeply over and over again against your mouth, kissing you through his orgasm. 

When he’s finally caught his breath and pulled out, he gives you a sheepish lopsided grin, and you decide that you are definitely keeping Stanford Pines around.