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#this fucking fic will be the end of me
jaded-ghoster · 4 months
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rest in peace, beloved dad for one theory
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psqqa · 7 months
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yes, yes i know edgeworth’s big wet eyes and loser boy personality have captivated us all, but listen. listen.
phoenix wright
phoenix “genuinely unable to reconcile the girl on the stand with the girl he dated for eight months, a cognitive dissonance so profound it’s ultimately explained by them being literally two different people, but which he first sits with for five years and does not talk about at any point to anyone” wright
phoenix “don’t mention that name to me. i don’t want to talk about it. i don’t want to think about it. i am just going to keep myself in this state of perpetual crisis mode focus on other people’s problems until eventually i die and get to hang out with mia on the astral plane and never have to deal with any of these emotions ever again” wright
phoenix “overnight loses his career and reputation and sense of identity while gaining an adopted, probably pretty traumatized eight-year-old daughter, and rather than leaning on his friends for help, or getting therapy, or taking any time to process any of this, he *checks notes* spends seven years dedicating all his free time and energy to investigating the weird fucking circumstances around it and maintains a friendship with the guy he suspects was behind it all” wright
phoenix "runs across a burning bridge and falls through it, half a day after the game establishes that he is terrified of heights, because his friend is on the other side of that bridge" wright
phoenix “i sure felt surprised. maybe i had my poker face on” wright
phoenix “looking back on it that was actually a pretty dark period in my life” wright
phoenix “don’t ask me how i got started. i don’t remember” wright
phoenix “only you stood still, your eyes calmly watching” wright
phoenix “sometimes, life just sucks” wright
just
phoenix wright
crunchiest man in the world
and all i wanna do is chew and chew and chew on him
#ace attorney#where are all the people gnawing on phoenix's bones so white??#i need to find the phoenix bone-gnawing corner of this fandom PLEASE#this is me asking for the Phoenix Fic btw#where is the fic meditating on phoenix's whole mental state in general?#where is the fic about how it's phoenix's cageyness and poker face and flat affect under stress that is the hurdle?#the relationship ramifications of being actually really fucking hard to read when it comes down to it?#where is the fic about the week of his disbarment?#the one detailing the panicked blow by blow of it rippling through his social circle while he stands in the eye of the storm?#the one that ends messy and anxious and unresolved because it's week 1 of 7 years?#where is the birth of phoenix wright: poker legend fic?#where is the art school/theatre major phoenix fic?#no not the able to art/act phoenix fic but the kind of person who chooses to go to art school/study theatre phoenix fic#where is the supremely disinterested in pop culture phoenix fic?#where is the actually incredibly meticulous and competent phoenix fic?#capcom can tell me all they want that he's essentially an adhd disaster flying by the seat of his pants making it all up as he goes#but that's not what they're actually showing me#they're the ones who created an in-fiction legal system that functionally necessitates that#and the nature of the game is that phoenix is almost always proven right so rather than him coming off as hare-brained#his opponents rather just come off as short-sighted. either negligently or maliciously so#and the choices the writing makes in service of retaining mystery and audience suspense in fact function to make phoenix a person#who is astute and puts the pieces together but is cautious in his conclusions#i will grant them that phoenix does tend to lose sight of his overarching goal in getting drawn into proving or disproving minor points#the fact that edgeworth on the other hand never loses sight of this or where the various arguments stand in relation to it#is his sexiest trait as a character by far#but those minor points are actually functionally critical to the ultimate argument phoenix makes#so even though i do read that trait through the game mechanics i do also judge the other characters for being dicks about it#my point is phoenix wright does in fact have the character of a lawyer and is conventionally good at his job fucking fight me#my point is that you all have had 20 goddamn years to Rotate this man#my POINT is that there should be Intricate Fucked Up Meditations On Phoenix that rewire my fucking brain and i NEED to know where they are!
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cosmicstarlatte · 5 months
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Thirst/comfort???? How about Luci about to have sex with reader (their first time) and they cant at all relax? They're really tense and shaky because they know its gonna hurt. (Luci comforting reader during the whole thing? i dont know if this counts as a thirst)
-🍊Oranchi🍊
18+ nsfw headcanon // minors do not interact
Omg 😩💕!!!
Lucifer is a caretaker at heart and that extends to the bedroom. Depending on what u want huehue 😏
He knows if it's done right, it shouldn't be that painful. Of course he knows everyone is different but he assures you that he will try to make it the least painful as possible, 'slow and steady' is how it'll be done he tells you when he sees how nervous you are.
He would be so soft and sweet, he loves you and he wouldn't do anything to harm you. He would check in on you frequently through out the whole session. He'd be so gentle, praising you when he can.
"Look at how well you're taking my fingers already."
He'd press soft tender kisses to your face and neck as his warm lubed up fingers gently finger fuck you. He'd murmur a small "we can stop anytime you're uncomfortable my little lamb."
He will make sure you're as comfortable as you can be. After all, and perhaps there's some selfishness here, it'd hurt his pride if you didn't enjoy your first time with him.
"Mm...doing so good. The tip is already in, how are you feeling?" He asks and presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.
"Oh my little lamb wants more? Very well then." ⬦
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also someone requested a virgin mc version of this back in june and I've been sitting on it ever since. perhaps I should continue to work on it?🫣
Lucifers part is actually done and idk if I wanna release that by itself or not in case I don't actually finish it... Decisions of an amateur writer. 😔
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flowercrowngods · 1 month
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It's unreal. The light is streaming in through the windows, the curtains still drawn to block out the midday heat, tinging their living room in golden hues that match so well with the light grey fabric of their new sofa.
Eddie should probably snap out of it and head over to the windows, open the curtains and let the light in, and with it the warmth and fresh air of a surprisingly wonderful day.
It's March, he hears the echoes of Steve's giddy voice a week or two ago. Everything's better in March.
Eddie didn't agree then, and he's not sure he agrees now, but he must admit there is something magical about this moment.
Still he remains rooted to the spot, leather jacket heavy on his shoulders, his hands hidden in the sleeves of it, just in case this really is a dream. Just in case someone will come in and snap him out of it, take away their couch and leave an eviction notice.
It's dumb. But Eddie doesn't deal well with things that are unreal. Things that he knows aren't meant for him. Things that he knows he only gets in this one play-through of his life, while millions of other Eddie Munsons are out there in parallel universes who never get to even lay eyes upon a couch this nice. Let alone buy it. From their own real adult money.
It's a corner sofa, the fabric light grey, and he remembers it being harder than it looks. Solid. Just perfect for both their fucked up backs, scar tissue pulling if they sit wrong for too long, phantom pain and muscle aches coming in hot when all they want is to just relax and enjoy a lazy evening.
Eddie bites his lip, trailing his eyes along the pristine fabric, the pillows lining the back of it, the flawless stitches keeping everything in shape.
They have a couch now. A sofa.
It's so fucking unreal.
He drops to the floor right then and there, sitting with his back against the wall, and never once taking his eyes off their sofa. It feels important to look at it for a while. It feels important to wait for Steve. It feels... It feels like maybe he'll ruin everything if he goes and sits on it now.
And it feels really fucking big.
At some point he hears the front door opening, their lock going so smoothly now that Steve fixed it with some graphite, and the sound makes Eddie smile. That's another thing that's unreal. The key barely making any noise, the lock not rattling, the door not creaking and cracking. Eddie pulls a strand of hair between his lips, the smile feeling too silly for this room, for this home, for everything he gets to have now.
For all the tiny things that matter now. All the tiny things he gets to have, turning the key's smooth slide into an allegory of everything he ever wanted but never dared to hope for.
The slide of curtains, the click-click-click of the window handle being turned to let the air in. The breeze of fresh spring air dancing around his nose.
It's all a little much. It's so fucking addicting.
And then Steve. Socked feet coming to a stop beside him, a hand landing in his hair, a voice that's so endlessly warm and fond and maybe a little worried sounding from above him, "Hi, angel."
"Hi," Eddie says, tearing his eyes away from their couch to meet Steve's. The sunlight from the windows hugs him, making him glow. Eddie smiles. He smiles and smiles and never wants to stop.
Steve hums as he leans down to press a kiss to his forehead, and Eddie weaves his arm through Steve's legs, holding onto his knee.
Everything feels a little less silly now. Like every time Steve doesn't question his little moments of sitting on the floor and just staring at things.
"We have a couch now," Eddie says, because it feels important to point out. Because Steve isn't looking at it.
"We do," he hums. "I got the call earlier. Thanks for helping with that, baby."
Eddie nods again, leaning his cheek against Steve's knee and trailing the couch again with his eyes. It looks brighter now that the curtains don't turn the room into something out of a sepia-type movie anymore.
Steve's hands comb through his hair, massaging his scalp a little with his nails. It's nice. It's warm. It's pretty.
And it's so unreal.
"I'm twenty-four," Eddie says then, and some part of him wants to carve that into the fabric. He won't. But maybe he should carve it somewhere else. "And I own a couch. It's a little crazy."
Steve comes to sit down beside him, their shoulders pressed together and he links their hands, resting them in his lap after a brushes a kiss to Eddie's knuckles.
"Why's it crazy, angel?"
He shrugs, resting his head on Steve's shoulders and curling into his warmth some more.
"Most of my life I never thought either of those would happen, y'know."
Another hum, followed by another kiss to the crown of his head. Another smile.
"But you did it," Steve whispers. "You made it. And we've got a couch now."
"We've got a couch now."
Saying it out loud doesn't make it feel any realer. It only makes his heart race and his eyes prick.
"I love you," he says, finally looking away from pretty grey fabric to meet prettier hazel eyes. "I love you so much."
Steve leans in, kissing the tip of his nose. "I love you. Thank you for buying a couch with me."
And it occurs to Eddie then that Steve understands him. Sitting there on the floor with him, hearing his words and listening to those unsaid, understanding Eddie on such a fundamental level that it should be scary. And it is, sometimes.
But he's not scared now. Because they have a couch. And they have pretty curtains that keep the light outside and still turn the room into something magical. And they have a lock that only needed a bit of graphite to let the keys glide smoothly.
And they have each other.
They stay on the floor until Steve's stomach growls, and they eat dinner with their backs against the couch and Eddie's feet in Steve's lap. They hold each other close after dinner, just breathing each other in as the breeze blows around them.
In the end, Eddie is the first to sit on the couch, with Steve standing between his legs and giving him a scalp massage in silence. In the end, Eddie buries his face in Steve's stomach to hide the tears, and Steve lets him.
Because this is real. And he gets to have this. They both do.
🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid@hotluncheddie @gutterflower77@auroraplume@steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important@stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround@pukner@i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic@bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi @awkwardgravity1 (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently)
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saturnpanther · 7 months
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I think everyone is doing Austria a disservice when they write him as a prudish blushing flower, and not as a manipulative bitch who has mastered weaponized sexuality. YES he's an uptight snob, but when you look at the history of Austria's military alliances there is a lot of calculated moves based around arranged unions instead of (or to subdue) all out wars. It's much more fun imo to see Roderich as someone who can seduce you into a strategic marriage for the sake of saving his own ass.
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hecksupremechips · 1 month
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Akihiko becoming a cop is something that simply doesn’t happen in the coma route cuz Shinji would see that shit and be like Aki what the actual hell is wrong with you
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daily-crowley · 2 months
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Crowley Of The Day: gorgeous 😍
(I used up all my hashtags that I couldn’t do my usual GO tags that I always do lol I don’t care)
#personal update#I got into Trolls#but I mean really really really into it#new fixation the brainrot is unstoppable#it’s all I think about I’m to the point that I need all Trolls content to survive#all Trolls content HAND IT OVER! merch fanart fics ALL OF IT#I’m so in love with Branch Floyd and John Dory#Rock Zombie Branch is sooooooo#and so I’d Rock Zombie Poppy#I AM THE NUMBER ONE JOHN FORY DEFENDER LEAVE HIM ALONE HE DID NOTHING WRONG AND DOESNT DEAERVE THE HATE HE GETS#I need what Broppy have oh my fucking god it’s so cute the love they have for each other it’s consuming me#and I need more of Branch and Clay those two rule following safety loving nerds would have such a great relationship#DID YOU SEE CLAY FAWNING OVER BRANCH WHEN THEY REUNITED SQUISHING HIS CHEEKS#THATS HIS BABY BROTHER AND HES AS CUTE NOW AS HE WAS WHEN HE WAS A BABY#AND THE ENDING WHEN HE TOLD HIM HE WAS SORRY FOR MISSING HIM GROW UP BUT COULDNT WAIT FOR THWM TO HANG OUT NOW#everyone focuses on Branch and Floyd but I NEED BRANCH AND CLAY#Speaking of Floyd I love him so much. he’s all I think about. that is if I’m not thinking of Branch#John Dory is everything to me? like I’m obsessed with him in a different way. like I said I’ll defend him every single time#BRUUUUUUUCE!!! 💞💞💞💞💞#Trolls 3 is still in cinemas and I’ve literally been going to rewatch it once a week#no joke I’m going again this Wednesday#AND I HAVE THE FILM AT HOME! I have all 3 of them and I watch them every day#I’m telling you the brainrot is unstoppable I am going insane#People apparently don’t like when I talk about any other interest of mine especially Trolls#it’s like I’m almost not allowed to talk about anything other than Good Omens#so since people don’t like me doing permanent posts YOU’RE GETTING IT IN THE TAGS#okay I’m done…. for now.#Crowley#Crowley Of The Day#Good Omens
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shivroy · 7 months
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future shiv
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rayssion · 6 months
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Solangelo fic idea because I love them,
Soulmate au wherein once you're claimed the mark of your soulmate appears as a tattoo on your body, it might be the same place as your soulmate, it might be different. If your soulmate is a mortal then only a letter 'M' appears.
Everyone is so worked up because Will never showed his mark, some of them speculated his soulmate is a mortal, some of them argued that it could be unrequited love like his soulmate might be Annabeth but she found her soulmate so he's destined to be alone. No one knows for sure, except for his sister Kayla.
The helm of darkness? Geez who could it be? The only child of Hades out there is Nico di Angelo. Will is 100% sure that the boy despise his guts, also he heard from Kayla that the boy already has a crush, and he's not sure if the concept applies on roman demigods, but didn't Hazel have a soulmate already?
Will never shows his mark, he felt devastated especially that the son of Hades is quite distanced.
Nico tries to operate between his pitiful crush on Percy, Jason who's urging him to let go and find himself another person, and his own mark.
The little sun tattooed on the side of his torso.
Funny thing, everyone thinks his soulmate is a mortal.
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grocerystorelist · 4 months
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the body of christ – matty healy
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brash and rogue, you don't know what to do with how you feel about the new priest in town. so, you find yourself in the confessional booth... aka priest!au
minors dni. dom/sub undertones, oral fixation, oral sex, unprotected sex, the man hasn't kissed anyone in a decade let him live!! wc: 3.2k
The church is dark when you approach the confessional booth, the heels of your boots ringing out and echoing throughout the cavernous room. You wonder if he hears you. A single lamp is turned on next to the booth, yellow beams dancing across the shifting fabric. You can hear Matty shuffling around inside, the shiny tips of his shoes barely visible beneath the black hanging.
It’s been a week since he kissed you, all teeth and tongue on the bench outside of his apartment, an insistent hand burning a path around your waist.
“I’ve come to confess, Father.” You smirk to yourself, crossing your ankles and shifting on the wooden seat to sit on your hands. There’s something girlish about the way you’re sitting, and you remember when your parents used to make you frequent this very booth several years ago. Then your confessions were about swiping your best friend’s eyeshadow palette, worried hands picking at your bright blue nail polish as you pleaded for forgiveness from an elderly priest. Now, the darkness of the booth no longer scares you.
“I’ve been having all of these thoughts… fantasies, if you will.” You strain your ears to your left, hoping to hear a gasp, a reaction from Matty. “I think about him all the time, and I don’t know what to do because he just won’t let himself.” A low ache settles itself between your legs, and you know that he can hear your legs cross and uncross themselves as you try to relieve yourself. As you smooth your black skirt down your thighs, you finally hear a shaky breath through the tiny window.
“I wanted him right there on a bench a few nights ago but he stopped himself after kissing me.” Your mind flashes back to the witty back and forths of that night, dangerously toeing the line of inappropriate.
“It was dark and quiet and the only thing I could hear was his heart pounding against mine.” Your cunt throbs, filled with the image of you climbing on top of him on the bench. “I tried to get off when I got home, but nothing worked.” A beat.
“What did you do?” He breathes out. In disbelief, you manage to say through the haze, “I touched myself. I touched– I was so desperate for anything. “ The wood of the confessional booth creaks as you continue.
“I couldn’t stop thinking of him bending me over, the way his fingers looked wrapped around the bottle that night.” A thunk emanates from beside you, a groan resonating throughout the booth as you squirm. “I wanted his head between my thighs, I wanted to get down on my knees in front of that bench as he fucking ran his mouth.”
“Have you-” Matty starts, hesitating. You interject before he can continue. 
“I’ve never had anyone before.” You run your tongue over your bottom lip. “But I want him.”
“Stop.”
“What? Father-”
“Kneel.” You wait until he repeats himself, sliding off the bench and settling yourself on the floor. “Kneel.” Hands clasped, you close your eyes, waiting for his next directive. In the few moments of silence, your mind wanders before you ground yourself, feeling the grain of the wood through the knees of your tights.
Suddenly, the curtain is ripped open, velvet whipping inches away from your face. You blink through the spots in your eyes to adjust to the light filtering through the stained glass. Dust motes float in a haze around Matty’s head, and you swear you see a halo for a moment. Lips barely parted, his chin is tilted up, considering you as he looks down his nose.
His eyes bore through you, brown irises giving way to widening black pupils. You rise on your knees, breathing shallowly and staring up at him, waiting for him to cut through the thick soup of tension between you two. Matty’s hand rises and his eyes flick to it, as if he can’t believe he’s reaching out to brush a strand of hair out of your face.
The heat of his palm reaches you first, and you instinctively stretch to reach his hand, brushing your reddened cheek to his cool fingers. Matty’s fingers twitch away, only to return to your bottom lip, thumb collecting your sticky red lipgloss. He pushes in further and you take the chance to suck on his finger, gently tonguing at the intrusion. The rest of his fingers come to rest on your jaw, curling around the back of your neck.
He drops to the floor of the confessional and mirrors you on your knees, eyes scanning over your flushed face. Matty slowly pulls his thumb out of your now open mouth, where it joins the rest of his fingers on the side of your face, the glistening digit smearing spit over your cheekbone.
You don’t know who leans in first, but suddenly his lips are on your lips, and you’re gasping wetly as his hand travels down to rest on your hip, pressing you into him. He kisses and kisses and kisses you, a decade of desire being unleashed in the span of a few seconds. You grip onto Matty’s black shirt, running one hand through the gel that holds his curls in place. Delight blooms in your mind, and you grin as you kiss him. A sharp tug has Matty moaning into your mouth, tongue running over your bottom lip before you let him in.
You let out a giggle, realizing you’re the first person he’s kissed in ten years if you don’t count all the hands he kisses in blessing. Matty pulls back, a questioning look on his face, and you take in the string of spit that stretches between your mouths, the rise and fall of his chest, the shadow of the veins on his forearms. Now that you have him, you want to devour him.
He asks first, though. Matty’s hands slide down the back of your skirt, toying with the hem and tracing circles on your sheer black tights.
“Let me taste you,” he tips your head up, pressing a firm kiss to your lips as your head spins. You nod emphatically as you pull away, getting to your feet to sit back on the bench of the confessional. Matty rises too, and you look up at him as he undoes the top button of his black shirt, yanking his white collar out of the lapel and discarding it behind him. It hits the wood of a faraway pew, echoing through the silence. 
All you hear is the blood in your ears as Matty gets back on the floor and hooks one hand underneath each knee to drag you to the edge of the bench. You feel your cunt throb with anticipation. He flips your skirt up, sucking in a breath at the visible lace of your underwear. Matty’s hands slide beneath the waistband of your skirt, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps as he fumbles for the elastic of your tights. He hasn’t looked up at you in a minute, transfixed by how the pale skin of his hands looks against the black of your tights.
You lift your hips to help Matty pull your tights off, his hands running reverently down you. They stop at your knees, grasping the meat of your thighs, digging in and pushing your legs apart to bare the damp red lace of your underwear.
“Did you wear this just for me?” Matty rasps out, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. You whimper your confession, hands falling behind you as you struggle to keep yourself upright, his kisses nearing the lace covering you. He licks at the fabric, contributing to the growing dark spot on the fabric between your legs. Your hips jump, and he presses down with a hand on your hip, silently telling you to stay in place.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty. All wet for me.” His breath ghosts over you as he hooks his fingers on your underwear, slowly tugging down. “Is this what you looked like after I kissed you the other night?”
“Yes,” you manage to gasp out before he pulls them off, balling them up and stuffing them in his pocket. Matty finds your clit with an assured finger, rubbing circles. He bites down into the flesh of your left thigh, tongue soon following to soothe over the spot. Through the daze of the headrush, you see purple blooming as he traces his tongue toward where his finger is focused.
He attaches his lips to your clit, sucking and lapping at it with the same fervor as he had kissed you earlier. Matty eats you like a man starved, like it’s water in a desert, like you’re the sweetest fruit and all he wants is to consume you.
“Matty-” you moan. He slips his tongue into you, nose bumping your clit as he traces your walls. You grind into his face as he brings one of your legs over his shoulder, pulling you closer to him. 
“So sweet making those sounds for me, love,” he says, withdrawing from your cunt to grin devilishly up at you. Matty’s hair is unruly and all over the place, chin glistening with you. He looks like he’s found heaven on his knees, and he brings a hand up to swipe your juices off his face. With a smirk, he brings the hand up to your lips, pushing two fingers in. You take them down to the knuckle, laving around them, and you see Matty reach for the front of his trousers, palming himself.
“Such a good girl for me,” Matty groans, pulling his fingers out of your mouth. “Going to make you come so hard you forget your name, your prayers” He reattaches his lips to your clit and brings his soaked fingers to your fluttering hole, slowly thrusting one in. 
The fire in your lower belly is rapidly building, the waves of pleasure reaching new heights as he carefully stretches you around another finger. “Matty, shit, fuck,” you whine, rolling your hips. He diligently laps at you, and the euphoria hits you, trembling on the bench. You feel yourself spasming around Matty’s tongue as he continues to lick you through the ecstasy, legs splayed out for him. 
Eventually, you push him away, bringing your thighs together and grinning dopily down to him. Matty is disheveled, his face covered in your juices. The hard line of his pants practically reaches out to you. I did that to him, you think, sticky and sweaty on the bench. Matty comes up to kiss you on the lips, peppering your face with soft devotion as he tugs your skirt down over the evidence of his worship.
The two of you sit together in silence for several minutes, the rise and fall of your chests perfectly synchronized.
“Good first?” Matty mumbles into your hair, playing and twisting your locks. You twist to look at him, an incredulous look on your face.
“You’re one to talk!” Your mouth drops open, laughing at the incredulity of his question. “You haven’t had sex in ten years.” Matty’s face drops momentarily before he runs his hand sheepishly through his hair.
“You’d probably never believe it, but back in the day I used to be quite a catch.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “That’s why they sent me to seminary. The girls couldn’t get enough of me.” You hide your face in his neck so he doesn’t see your reaction, eyes crinkling and mouth widening at the thought of a Matty your age being the talk of the town parties. 
Shaking your head, you stand up and push through the curtain, waiting for him to follow you. He emerges from the darkness of the booth like an angel, pushing back the sleeves of his shirt where they’ve started to fall down his forearms.
Matty presses a chaste kiss to your nose as his arms bracket you against the confessional. You tilt your head up to capture his lips, pulling him closer as he trails kisses down your neck. You let him for a moment before you slip out around him, spinning on your heel and smoothing your skirt down. Matty looks dangerous now, not understanding why you’re pulling him away from the booth — his eyes tell you he would take you right over a pew if you let him.
“The rectory,” you say, taking his hand in yours. Matty walks with purpose, his strides long, and you struggle to keep up with him.
“Can my poor girl walk after what I just gave her?” You roll your eyes at the endearment, focusing on putting one leg in front of the other. One wobble and you would answer his question, which you aren’t allowing tonight.
A few minutes later you lie on his soft white sheets, legs parted as you lazily slip your fingers through your folds. Matty stands at the corner of the bed as he pulls his dress shirt out of its tuck, nimble hands unbuttoning and sliding the garment from his shoulders. 
“Didn’t know priests could be so fit,” you giggle. “Is there a priest gym?” Matty throws his head back in a laugh.
“The dress code is cassocks, and it’s just rows and rows of priests on weight machines.” He jokes. “It’s practice for lifting babies out of water.” You pull a serious face, nodding solemnly. 
“I hope I’m not intruding on your priest gym time tonight.” Instead of riffing off you, Matty decides to lift you up, spinning to land you on his lap. The rough fabric of his pants zaps the nerves in your clit, and you unwittingly grind down, making contact with his length. The air in the room is charged once again, ions waiting to be aligned to carry the spark between you both.
In one move, Matty kisses you square on the mouth and rolls you over. He towers over you, eyes zeroing in on your dripping cunt. You grasp for his belt buckle, yanking it out of the loops and throwing it into a far corner. His hands replace your own as he tugs his pants down first, revealing his tight black boxers.
Your mouth waters at the sight, but your reaching hands are gently stopped as Matty breathes a question. “Condom?” He raises an eyebrow, and you frantically shake your head no. “On the pill,” you briefly explain. Matty’s eyes darken as he slides his boxers down. His cock slaps against his stomach, red and weeping.
He circles his hand around it, stroking and tugging. “You look like a wet dream,” Matty says reverently, sliding down the bed to position himself over you.
Your hand joins him on his cock, and together you guide him to your soaked entrance. He swipes through the mess, coating himself in your cum. Torturously slowly, he finally presses into you.
“So tight love, you feel so good.” You grasp at his forearms, fixating on the curl dangling from his forehead. Matty’s abs flex under your fingers as he slowly pushes into your cunt, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His pants throw a hot spear of need through you, and he stills as he bottoms out. He’s bigger than anything you could’ve imagined. Matty stills between your legs, the two of you suspended in a tableau of sacrilege. 
“Move, please,” you whisper, hugging him close as the pressure subsides into pleasure. Matty draws out slowly, and you feel every ridge dragging within you. Pleasure runs up your spine, and you whimper as words leave you, hoping he can tell you want, you need more. 
He slowly rocks back into you, hips setting an agonizing pace. You feel so hazy, and you have no idea how to make your mouth work and tell him to give it to you faster, harder. Your head lolls backward, eyes blurry with desire.
“Ask me,” he says, and you shake your head, not understanding. He reaches up to his own forehead, down where the two of you are connected, then to his left and right shoulders. 
“Oh-” you gasp, reaching up with both hands to take hold of Matty’s fist. You press a kiss to his knuckles.
“Bless me father, for I have sinned.” Matty moans, his thrusts finding a new vigor. He drills into your cunt, kissing spots in you that have stars exploding behind your eyes.
Bending down, Matty laves over your tits, sucking your left nipple into his mouth as he rubs at your clit. He rolls your nipple between his teeth, spit pooling on your chest. His mouth leaves your breast only to be replaced by a hand expertly tugging and twisting at your nipple. 
You spread the spit from your tits, pressing down on your lower belly at the hard bulge of him inside you. And shit – you feel him, tightening your body’s grip on his cock.
“Do you like that, love, me filling you up so well?” Matty groans, dragging his hand down, interlacing your fingers and covering your hand with his. He pushes down to feel his dick in you, watching himself thrust in and out as the head pokes at your belly.
You mewl, digging your heels into his lower back, letting him roll further into you, cock hitting places so deep in you you didn’t realize they existed. 
“Where do you want me?” Matty asks with a hoarse voice. You lock eyes with him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “In me.” He swallows the rest of your sentence with a kiss, tongue fucking into your mouth in time with the buck of his hips.
“Taking me so well,” his hips set a frantic pace. Your eyes roll back in your head, spots dancing across your vision. “Come for me, love.” You fight the sensation off, wanting to come with him. Matty’s hand burns circles around your clit as he thrusts mercilessly, filling you over and over. 
With the first clench of your walls around his cock he twitches, a low grunt slipping out of his mouth as he hoists your hip up with one hand and somehow hits deeper. You think you might die if you don’t come soon. Hurtling towards the edge, you light up on the inside as you convulse underneath Matty. Eventually, you topple over, arching up into his chest as his cock begins to pulse inside you.
Sticky warmth fills you, and he fucks you through the last waves of his own orgasm. “You’re fucking perfect,” he moans, one hand next to your head as his hips still. His cock softens in you, but neither of you makes any move to shift.
You smile blearily up at him, and he dips his head to press a sweaty kiss to your forehead. His bed suddenly seems all the more inviting, and you both nearly drift off before you start to feel your cum dripping out around him.
Matty shakes some sense in himself to get the both of you cleaned up, and you wince when he slips out of you. The sudden emptiness colors your vision as you clench around nothing. He pads back to the bed with a washcloth, gingerly wiping your folds of cum and throwing the square into his laundry. He slips on a pair of boxers before handing you a matching pair, tugging a faded navy shirt over your head and gathering your hair to pull through the neck.
You feel as if you’re about to burst from the tenderness as you gaze at Matty curled towards you, perfect mirrors of each other. 
“Stay,” he whispers, kissing you.
“I will.” You close your eyes, hands reaching out to intertwine with his.
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shuashuagirl · 1 month
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Warnings: filthy awful terrible dub con, tiny drabble, mean mean mean Jeonghan, piss kink!!!!, heavy degradation, pure filth I just wanted to try it out, insinuated unhealthy relationship with jeonghan
Jeonghan gave you a few sharp thrusts, to make sure that his cum really was deep inside of you.
Once he was sure, he pulled himself out of you and you crumbled to your knees, chest heaving. Your face hit the floor, your ass pointed straight up in the air. Jeonghan took advantage of this angle to give your pussy a good slap.
“Better keep that cum inside of you sweetheart,” he said, dragging out the pet name. He spit, and you felt it hit your pussy. You hissed out in surprise and then Jeonghan was grabbing your hips again.
“Fuck it y/n…” His tip prodded at your entrance. “You’ll take everything I give you right?”
No question in your mind. You nodded, your voice a bit broken as you said: “Everything.”
Jeonghan’s tip pushed into you and you felt something hot begin to fill your pussy. Your face burned red as Jeonghan emptied himself out into you. Once he was finished he tapped the tip of his cock against your pussy as if shaking the excess liquid off of it.
He suddenly slapped your ass hard and your whole body shook as you struggled to keep your ass up in the air. Jeonghan knelt down in front of you. He grabbed you by the roots of your hair, forcing you to look up at him.
“You’re a disgusting cum and piss dumpster made just for me,” he said a small cocky smile on his lips. You whined your response and he let your head drop back to the floor. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And a few seconds later you heard the bathroom door open and shut.
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i have this really stupid idea in my head that im frankly a little obsessed with and the idea is this: trent crimm doing a drunk history episode on ted lasso's first tenure at richmond. is that how drunk history works? i don't think so. do i care? absolutely not. it's a special episode who cares because this image is not only hysterical to me but treasured. i treasure this image. i hold it close in my heart and also laugh and laugh and laugh.
#ted is played by what is very visibly a butch lesbian in a huge fake mustache.#roy is inexplicably played by himself in a wig.#ternt drunkenly and passionately explaining this whole thing. he says his own line and the trent actor (who also has a wig) gets to act it#trent waving his hands as he's explaining all this. the host being like 'not very often we get to have someone include the part where They#come into the story' and trents like [dorkiest finger guns]#also yes i said first tenure bc this scenario lives in post canon fantasy fix it land where ambiguously ted comes back to richmond#at some point. and also both bc my tedependent heart is obsessed and bc it's really funny#marries trent. just bc i want this to end with trent--hammered and pleased as punch--being like AND THEN I MARRIED HIM!!!!!#[falls back on couch happily] :)#also in the line of that great 5+1 social media fic#by jessjessthebest. a sequel thats just like a youtube video like#'we made ted lasso and trent crimm watch that episode of drunk history about them' and trent is just. head in hands the whole time.#ted is DELIGHTED.#anyway i rotate this in my brain fucking DAILY. it's so goddamn funny to me.#ted lasso#tedependent#tedtrent#trent crimm#the line in question being 'is this a fucking joke' i just realized i did not clarify that#no but really im obsessed with this it's so fucking funny#also any image trent had left of being a ruthless ex journalist is thoroughly ruined#all of his former colleagues have seen him and drunk and giggling and fully admitting what he was thinking at the time and oh boy#hes a disaster <3
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But don't worry. By then, he wants to.
(@romanromulus :D )
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graveposting · 5 months
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me when
me hwhen the------
the brainworms-
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jtl-fics · 11 months
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Fluent Freshman - Part 16
PREVIOUS
Sweeties is very busy tonight but they get a table relatively quickly. He sees some people looking at their group all dressed in the ‘required’ attire for going out to Eden’s and reminds himself that maybe it’s for the best that people remember him tonight. It MAY help the police find his body in a shallow grave somewhere if they can piece together his last few hours.
Nicky stops by the salad bar and grabs three packs of crackers. He hands one pack to FF who just stares blankly at it before shrugging and figuring his stomach needs something so he opens the pack and just eats the crackers.
Nicky looks at him with an abundance of fondness that he doesn’t understand but shakes his head and hands a laminated menu over to him to order dinner from. “I know you’re not drinking but you still gotta take your meds before we leave.” Nicky reminds and FF nods. He reaches into his pocket to confirm that they’re there and feels something cheap and plastic.
Oh god, he forgot to take his Happy Meal Toy out of his pocket. No one needs to know that.
He shoves his hand into his other jacket pocket and the sandwich baggy with his single dose for his Ulcer is right there.
He starts to look at the menu when he realizes that everyone else already knows what they’re going to order since they apparently come here regularly. He tries his best to never be a regular at any place where they can see him and repeat his order back to him (Hello CVS girl, yes thank you for holding some Pepto for him. No he is very brand loyal and would not like to try Tums thank you.)
FF stands behind the art of the panic pick.
He has cultivated this ability over his many years of panicking. He can look at a menu and pick an item that might not be the thing he most wants on that menu it is something that he can eat or drink. Then while he has that pick queued up and ready to fly if a member of the waitstaff comes over before he’s actually read what’s on offer he has his panic pick.
A place like this has GOT to have a burger.
He finds it under the sandwich section easily enough and now he has his panic pick as he peruses the rest of the menu.
The waitress comes far faster than he had anticipated and slams waters down at each of their spots. “What can I get you?” She asks and before anyone says anything Nicky and Aaron slide over the two packets of crackers that she takes before looking at the empty packet in front of FF, “Just two?” She asks.
WHAT KIND OF CODE IS THIS?
“Just two.” Nicky says grabbing his trash and handing it over to her.
She shrugs, “Anything else on the menu I can get you boys?” She asks.
They all make their orders and Nicky, bravely, steps in to remind him he likes his burgers well done when the waitress asks.
“Sorry, I should have warned you.” Nicky laughs bumping his shoulder against FF’s “This place has this stuff called cracker dust, it gets you high but it’s not addictive.” He says.
Every single 80’s PSA goes off in FF’s head all at once.
NICKY “FLIPS TURTLES BACK ONTO THEIR FEET” HEMMICK DOES NOT LOOK LIKE HOW THE ‘JUST SAY NO’ ADS HAD SAID HE WOULD.
There’s not a trench coat! He wasn’t even wearing a hoodie with the hood up! There’s no sunglasses! Nicky had given him a baggie for his ulcer meds but IT WAS A SANDWICH BAG.
“I see.” He says out loud.
“Do you wanna try some.” Aaron asks. He double checks and yeah Aaron is still in the same club clothes he had left the house with. He has on a hoodie but the hood is down.
He does as any 80’s teen sitcom protagonist does by the end of the episode.
“No thank you.”
He thinks Mr. T would be happy that he said No. That ad had been especially nerve wracking as a kid when Mr. T ‘shakes some sense’ into the camera.
“Alright, no worries. Neil and Andrew don’t do any either.” Nicky says quickly.
The drugs come with the food and Nicky and Aaron pocket them before handing over cash to the waitress who just counts it right there. He focuses on digging into his burger and realizes it has jalapeños on it but Nicky volunteers to eat them with his nachos and lets the conversation weave around him as he polishes off his burger and takes his ulcer meds. “Oh cool, hand me the bag so I can keep our stuff in there.” Nicky makes a grabbing motion with his hands and FF just hands it over.
He zones out as he eats his fries. He wonders if Great Gran is upset watching him or if she’s happy that he said no to drugs. Maybe he should have said yes, then he could at least be blasted out of his mind when Andrew dragged him to the basement.
Well, it’s too late now.
The waitress comes and clears out their plates but picks up her notepad and pen again. “So, what ice cream do you boys want tonight?” She asks and looks straight at FF.
But FF is prepared.
Ice cream places are easy. His panic pick is a given, it’s Vanilla. Every ice cream joint has it so he barely even notices how his heart rate kicks up to 190 BPM and his palms grow instantly sweaty.
“Vanilla.”
“Sorry Hun, we’re fresh out.”
OH GOD. QUICK, SAY SOMETHING ELSE.
“Surprise me.”
NO YOU IDIOT SAY CHOCOLATE.
“Surprise you?”
RETRACT, IT’S NOT TOO LATE.
“Yeah. Surprise me.” He repeats and he can FEEL Nicky vibrating with laughter next to him.
“Alright Hun, I’ll surprise you.” She winks at him and he blinks back at her.
The rest of the table all order (They’re all normal people who order strawberry (neil), the special with chocolate (Nicky), Lemon Sorbet (Aaron), and Brownie Fudge (Andrew).
“Surprise me.” Nicky whispers to him.
“I panicked.” He whispers back.
“Yeah obviously.” Nicky snorts but pats him, “It’s fine. The worst is you might end up with Pistachio or something.” He pats FF on the back.
FF likes Pistachio and the world loves to make FF suffer.
“Here you go hun. We just got this in, it’s Mango.” She says setting down two scoops of a bright orange ice cream down in front of him, “With a little surprise.” She winks again as she sets the other ice cream down.
They all get started.
Why is the Ice Cream kind of spicy?
He eventually puzzles out that the waitress has served him a Mango and some kind of pepper (probably habanero) ice cream. She smiles when he thanks her for the surprise, tries not to let it show how much the spice is KILLING his stomach let alone the acid of the mango.
Andrew has his eyes narrowed on him and he’s sure the man doesn’t want him to make a scene at a place that seems to be a frequent haunt for the family. So he eats every last bite and ignores how his lips tingle.
“Ohhh it must have been good. Maybe we should get you her number.” Nicky says looking at his empty bowl.
“No, I’m good.” She was pretty but considering the acid currently swirling in his stomach she probably thought he was an asshole for asking for her to ‘surprise him’. Even if that wasn’t the case, what if she thought it’d be cute to serve him this spicy ice cream as a cute couple thing? His stomach can’t take that.
“Aw man you’re no fun.” Nicky pouts.
They pay for their meals and the waitress hands him his receipt with a wink. He nods back at her before shoving the receipt into his pocket next to the Megamind toy. “Have a good night.” He says.
“You too Hun.” She says.
They head out for Eden’s and in a way the ice cream is a blessing because his stomach hurts enough that he barely even notices his anxiety about being at the place where Andrew most certainly is going to stab him at least once by the end of the night.
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MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU
NEXT
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The requests to be added to the tag list got spread out across a few  different mediums on this one so if I missed you I swear it wasn’t malicious I’m just brunch dumb at the moment. Remind me in the replies!
As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it  right but you  didn’t  get a notification there might be something  switched around in  your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?
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frownyalfred · 1 year
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desperately trying to explain to straight men that gen fanfiction exists and there doesn’t need to be romance. it can just be a new side of plot/a what if scenario.
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