#but dear lord Jesus fucking christ

[cookiesandcantarella]

we r besties

[ID: picture of Kermit and animal from the muppets hugging. Kermit is captioned with “me” and animal is captioned with “the beloved piece of media I would never ever recommend to anyone under any circumstances” end ID]

[aranthegenderfluidbastard]

HEY

HEY LISTEN TO ME

THIS POST CONTAINS SEVER TMAGP EP.8 SPOILERS

GO LISTEN TO THE EPISODE BEFORE READING THIS

GERRY IS ALIVE

GERRY IS FUCKING ALIVE

Gerry is alive, and happy, like, he sounds GENIUNLY happy, and he paints, and he drinks tea, and just sounds SO normal, and he isn't alone, and GERTRUDE FUCKING ROBINSON is his grandma (just hoping that she hadn't done what she did in TMA or I'll go back to hate her with a burning passion). And you know what? Yes, I did cry, and yes, I did screamed, and YES there is A LOT more to unpack in ep8 since all the Alice-Gwen conversation was soooooo.

AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON CELIA MAN.

WHAT. THE. FUCKKKKKKKK.

AND OF COURSE SHE IS WITH GEORGIE IN WTG!!!! 'CAUSE WHY NOT?????

[aroace-polyshow]

also a thing for you if you ever want to ramble about hw- what's emu's story for this? how did she get into illustration, and how did she meet the troupe?

RAUGH I ALWAYS WANT TO RAMBLE AND IVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS TY FOR ASKING!!!! also took a while this time my bad man. the route my bus takes has very very shit internet so i couldn’t continue my draft during my ride 💔

anywayyy. good lord this is fucking long. im sorry.

for emu, i’m still figuring stuff out with her, but i’ve been thinking about her a lot more recently, and so far what i’ve got is that she has a little bundle of issues including grief over her grandpa, toxic positivity and not letting herself feel negative emotions properly, some internalized hatred of herself and how childish she is following an argument w shosuke, and generally feeling kinda lost, like the rest of hw, after wonder stage closed bc she doesn’t know what to do w/o shows. yknow.

so like. she still has her whole thing w/ her grandpa. and she while she wasn’t doing the *best* she wasn’t doing that bad in the mental health department. still wasn’t letting herself like. grieve properly. but she wasn’t the worst. she performed a lot on wonder stage and knew that the stage was in danger of being closed down, so she tried really hard to keep it from happening. but the actors for wonder stage began to leave as time went on and the ones who stayed didn’t really get why she was so persistent in keeping this stage open when the others in the park were better and shit. and she didn’t have much help. so unfortunately despite her best efforts wonder stage was kinda doomed for closure. butttt she’s not giving up yet. so she tries to convince her brothers to not close it, or at least to just give her some more time. which Does Not Go Well. shosuke gets real frustrated with her and starts yelling and shit. and while keisuke shuts him down once he gets too heated. well. it’s kinda too late. with what he said about her being childish and demanding that she just grow up already and stuff like that, my girl takes that to heart. and then with the official closure of wonder stage…yeah…she’s not doing the best…

emu’s grief here is made worse w/ the wonder stage closure. cause like. that was her and her grandpa’s favorite stage. girl feels like she failed him. she loved that stage. she loved doing shows there. it was something she had to remind her of her grandpa. and now it’s closed. :(

since then she’s been. different. like it’s just barely noticeable to a lot of people but she’s definitely changed. she smiles and acts cheery and seems like her usual self but like. her smile isn’t quite the same. she’s not quite as talkative. she avoids her brothers a lot more. and her brothers have noticed btw and they both feel AWFUL. especially shosuke. they done fucked up and they know it.

also like technically she could keep doing shows, after all theres the other stages in pheonix wonderland, and she has experience in doing shows + is related to the people who literally own the place so it wouldn’t be hard for her to join one of those stages. but she doesn’t bc after all that, she thinks her goal of just wanting to bring smiles to people is childish. shows make her so so happy but she thinks it’s immature and naive of her to still want to pursue that, especially considering she failed last time. it’s a silly and childish path to pursue, and she needs to pull her head out of the clouds and grow up already, like her brother says. so despite loving shows with all her heart, she gives up on doing them. but since shows are so important to her, she doesn’t rlly know what to do without them, so that’s where that feeling lost stuff comes in. yknow.

for her art, i just think she enjoyed art in general, and with her grief and the wonder stage closure it helped her cope. i have a very specific idea in my head of her style. but i cant remember the artist here on tumblr that i think she does art like. if i can remember their name i will though. i might actually do a post dedicated to what i think her art style is like….

not set in stone just yet, but what i’m thinking for the original meet up is that she meets nene first. nene does music and emu finds it, and it gives her some inspiration for some art. she posts it and credits nene’s music as what inspired her, and nene is so fucking honored. through some light encouragement from rui nene gets the courage to dm emu to tell her thank you, and they start chatting!! they get along pretty well and emu starts making art for nene’s music. eventually rui has the idea to start animating them, so they can make music videos for the songs, and boom hw gets its beginnings online.

this happens before wonder stage closure btw. when it does close, emu disappears from their group chat for a bit. she comes back like nothing happens and while she doesn’t tell them what happened, they both notice she doesn’t talk about what shows shes doing anymore, or shows in general. nene and rui are both very sad at this btw. seeing emu have so much love for shows and be able to talk about them like she did was really nice, so to see her stop with that and seemingly not enjoying shows anymore after something happened, just like they did, it sucks. :(

anyway i think my timeline is like. during nene’s last year of middle school when she transfers to home schooling, she starts doing music -> everything i just mentioned here happens -> eventually they meet tsukasa, and he joins the group -> hollow ☆ wonderland does its thing as a group for a while -> main story shit happens. yeah. 👍

uhhhh. dear god i’m so bad at explaining my thoughst. augh. i hope this made some amount of sense. and that i wasn’t too repetitive lsajdkhfgyfdhsj. anyway miscellaneous emu thingies now.

like i mentioned, wonder stage hasn’t been replaced yet, it’s just closed down and sectioned off. so emu still visits it all the time. there is nothing being done to maintain it. so it is absolutely unsafe. but does emu care. no. girlie wants to disappear and while she’s not *planning* on dying, if she had to die anywhere she wouldn’t mind if it was at wonder stage. she draws there a lot.

a lot of her drawings are traditional!! with lots of bright colors and crayons and colored pencils. she has lots of fun drawing.

this applies to non-au emu as well but she has gifted stickers to all her friends. nene’s synthesizer is covered in them.

wonder stage was closed off at sunset. btw. just to give her another reason to hate sunsets.

[beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff]

AM I MAKING YOU FEEL SICK??????? AM I MAKING YOU FEEL SICK?!?!?!?!?! AM I MAKING YOU FEEL SSIIIIIIIIICCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[theworldisabrokenbonebutitishome]

Ni Ni for a Vogue China event

[enderevynne]

MASS EFFECT 2: LEGENDARY EDITION ➤ OC CAPS: Zeke

ZEKE SHEPARD - ENGINEER - EARTHBORN - AKUZE SURVIVOR -

[superhell]

looking EXTREMELY respectfully

[magnoliamyrrh]

.

[geckobrains]

home is where - lily pad pupils

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

you know. there are few things that make me sit and think carefully about my instinct to say something would be a Good Fictional Metaphor for a real-world issue like the time i saw the take with my own two eyes that piranesi is a powerful, insightful, accurate metaphor for both colonialism in general and slavery in the US

[slowwshoww]

GUESS WHO ACCIDENTALLY TOOK THEIR DAYTIME MEDS AT 1:35AM INSTEAD OF THEIR NIGHTTIME ONES

[bigfatbimbo]

Different anon but good lord breeding Lucifer sounds so hot

Imagine how much he literally cries, he goes fucking STUPID all he can say is "breed me breed me please" the king of hell reduced to a sobbing mess who's brain has been fucked out of his head and replaced with nothing but cum, man is full ready to give Charlie a sibling, he's just that needy and pathetic

a/n — Jesus fucking christ. The feminine urge to get this man pregnant is crazy right now.

Warnings — Pegging, breeding kink, dom!reader sub!Lucifer, his demon form comes out near the end, Implied afab!reader, aka use of a strap-on

“Oh dear god,” Lucifer whimpers as you slide your strap into him. 

He sat down on your lap while you held him there by his hips. His hands rested on your shoulders, gripping them ever so slightly harder now that your plastic cock was inside him.

“That’s it baby, start slow,” you coach as he hesitantly starts moving his hips. 

He moaned at the sensation. Obviously, this wasn’t the first time Lucifer had gotten pegged. But, he would be lying if he said he’d done anything like this recently. 

And the fact he was receiving this treatment from you added to the mind numbing pleasure. 

He hummed contently and started to speed up, feeling his mind get fuzzier each second. “Goodness,” he remarked, “‘forgot how good this—mmh— this felt.”

You rolled your hips and he moaned loudly, grinding down on your strap, nails digging into your shoulder blades.

“Aw baby, I won’t ever let you forget again. How’s that sound?” You kiss his neck and thrust up into him slowly.

He whined, desperately needing more of anything. He humped your strap at a faster pace. “Nngh, deeper, god please—“

“Someone’s eager,” you generously thrust up into him, drawing out a loud needy moan and making him cling to your neck. “So desperate to breed yourself on my cock, huh?”

Something about the way you phrased that makes his whole body shudder. The idea sounds so intimate, he craved it.

He nods into your neck and fails to bite back a whimper, subconsciously humping your strap faster. 

“Use your words, sweetheart,” you command, “Want me to fill you up real good?”

“Yes, yes of course I—“ he looses his train of thought when you thrust your plastic dick deeper into him. He whines terribly desperate. 

“Mhm, yes, breed me, please, breed me,” he pathetically cries, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

“Of course, baby. Whatever you want, my sweet boy,” his moan was cut off by you flipping him off your lap and onto the sofa, ass up and face pressed into pillows.

You get a better angle there, pushing the strap further into him than before, making him scream out and grip at the sides of the couch of support.

“Oh, fuck yes please. Breed me, god, just like that. Deeper, nngh—“ Lucifer drools into the pillow, incoherently babbling in the form of short moans. 

You drill into him roughly, “You sound so pathetic, pretty boy, begging for my cock like this,” You tease. He whimpers lowly.

“Begging to be bred and used by me. You like being filled up like this? I bet you’d even have my babies if I fucked you good enough in return,” your jeer is less of an insult and more of a taunt.

It was hard not to tease him. After all, you have the king of Hell ass up in the air and moaning like a bitch for your strap. 

Your recent comments had already gotten into his head because, especially in this state, he knew it was true. He whined pathetically and buried his face deeper into the already damp pillow.

At this point he heard you let out an unexplained gasp, and slow momentarily. Luckily for him, you sped up quickly afterwards.

“Yes, yes, fuck I need more, please—“ He moaned, muffled by the fabric of the cushions.

“More? Sweetheart, you don’t look like you can take much more,” you coo down at him. 

He picks his head up temporarily to see what you mean. It’s then that, after a moment, he became conscious of the state he was in. 

Not only had he looked pathetic, tears streaming down his face from puffy red eyes, all of the attention had also taken its toll on his physical appearance.

His eyes had became a demonic shade of red, his horns had already begun to halfway stick out from his head, piercing the couch fabric and leaving stuffing in the area below him.

In a matter of seconds, or in other words, a few thrusts from you, his wings would surely sprout out.

“What’s the matter?” You tug his hair slightly backwards, making him cry out, “Can’t handle all the attention? Don’t make me pull out, baby.”

The threat had brought more tears to his eyes, “Nonono! Please don’t— ungh—“ you rolled your hips roughly inside him “—fill me up please. Breed me, i’ll do anything. Fuck me, please breed me”

You smile down at him, “Alright, but only because you’ve been such a good boy so far,” Your hands stroke his newly sprouted wings and he yelps, before grasping desperately at the pillows below him.

“I’ll fuck you hard, sweetie. I’ll breed you nice and good too. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

He moans and vigorously nods his head, sniffing loudly, collecting himself from the tears that were still in fact pouring. 

His climax was building up at a rapid pace, he might have already came once in the area below him, but he was far too fucked out to know. 

He loved this position more than anything in the world. He was completely open to you and your strap, ready and willing to be fucked and used.

Even though he knew it wasn’t possible, he forgot for a moment that you weren’t actually fucking him to breed him. After all, he wouldn’t mind having your baby.

a/n — So this was probably one of the filthiest things i’ve ever written now that I think about it. Might have been too much, I don’t know.

Pretty sure Lucifer liked it though.

Also! A specific anon wanted to be tagged in the pegging Lucifer fic so @sillypumpkins !!

[snowsinterlude]

What Weighs in Your Heart.

+18, mdni

(priest coriolanus x f. reader, mdni!)

summary: the priest of panem's church was the one you confided the most, that's the only reason for you to confess your sins every sunday evening, and that's why you always stayed until late at church.

c.w: priest!coriolanus, christian reader, christian guilt, altar sex, slapping, mentions to blowjob, grinding, fingering, squirting, church sex, dirty talk, smut, nsfw, public sex, dacryphilia, degrading, praising, overstimulation, sub reader, religious imagery mentioned, priest kink, praying during sex, sex in public place, mdni!!

the sin - heinrich lossow, 1880.

a piece showing a nun moans and a priest holds her hips. based on the events of the last day of October 1501, where cardinal cesare de borgia, son of Pope Alexander VI, supposedly hosted a decadent dinner party.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀༺ ♱ ༻

every sunday, you spend your whole evening at the church, always so eager to please your religion and your god, but you knew deep in your heart that this was not your true intention.

you've waited until everybody left the church again, so you could ask father coriolanus to listen to your regrets on the confessionary – that's how far you can remember –, and with your moans echoing through the church and your pussy gushing around his skilled fingers, you cried out in pleasure, hearing his prays.

both of you weren't anywhere near the confessionary, if you looked up you could see the stained glass window with a image of Jesus Christ looking at you, and you'd immediatly look down again, the wet sounds of your cunt echoing through your eardrums.

"that the eyes of your heart may be enlighted, so you can repent for your sins and your place in heaven is reserved." he prayed, his fingers fucking your pussy relentlessly while his other hand held a rosary, praying for you. "tell me what weighs within your heart, my child."

you couldn't even speak an entire phrase without moaning, you didn't have any idea you were so wet and sensitive until the moment he pulled your panties aside.

"you didn't hear me?" he asked, curling his long fingers into your cunt. "confess me your sins."

you gulped down, crying from guilt and pleasure all at once.

"forgive me, f..father, for i have sinned." you started, legs spreading a bit more just so you could be met with a slap on your ass and a finger thrusting into your core. "fuck, father. i-i can't- i can't sp...speak!"

your eyes were closed shut, your mouth opened up to let him hear your squeal once he slapped your butt.

"the church is not a place for you to run your dirty mouth like that." he warned you, taking his fingers out of your core and making you suck on them.

"i'm sorry, father. please forgive me." you said, eyes swelling up with tears as he frowned at you, shaking his head negatively.

"tell me what weighs in your heart, so i can show you the path of god, my dear lamb." he said, both his hands on your hips while you shamelessly whined, grinding your hips on his stiffened dick.

"forgive me, father, for i haven't stopped sinning kn every lord's day and can't stop coming to the church only to sin." you said, your voice sounding to malicious to your liking. you truly hoped god would help you, the guilt in your heart was nothing near the pleasure you experimented on coriolanus's dick. "father, please. i can't stop thinking about you," you admitted, your own hand travelling down your stomach to reach for your swollen clit.

an action that, much to your sadness, was prevented by the priest towering on you. his hand held yours, caging them with the rosemary he held.

"you should know better than to indulge in such a dirty path, little lamb." he said, in a soothing voice while you thrusted back at him, crying for release. "look at you, you're on the right path to become satan's main worshipper. you're so dirty, so stained." you cried upon hearing those words.

"it is not my fault, father, i swear!" you cried out, your core clenching on air as it missed his cock inside you, throbbing inside you while he usually hit your ass. "it's not my fault! i-in god's plan, he made the devil so much stronger than any of those whose flesh is the main pleasure-" he gave you another painful slap, your lips gasping as the tears rolled down your cheek.

"so now it is god's fault that you are such a whore?" he asked you, grinding back at you, you mewled at his words.

"n-no, that was not what i said-"

"it is exactly what you said, lamb. you should watch your words." he said, the stern tone on your voice made you sob.

"i'm sorry, father. i'm sorry, i wasn't thinking straight, i- ah!" you sobbed, feeling the tip of his cock entering your core, your cries were too pleasant for him.

"this is what you wanted, right? this is why you're always here, looking at me with those pleading eyes that are always screaming 'fuck me, father.' isn't that right?" he asked you, a smirk curling into your lips as you nodded pathetically. "you can't help but crave what is not yours to have, can you? even if it's a priest's cock. i bet you fucked more priests in this life than any prostitute." he whispered into your ear, thrusting slowly into your pussy with a tortuous rhythm.

your brain felt too mushed up for you to even talk, so you sticked up with shaking your head negatively, your moans and cries being paused for you to mewl a bunch of no's.

"use your words, you are a bitch, but you're not dumb and nor are you mute." he said, his cock entering you entirely, filling you to the edge as you cried out in pleasure, his hand grabbed your boob aggressively, pinching your nipple as he turned you to face him. "do what i said."

"'m sorry, fa.. father! i'm sorry. i-i didn't fuck any priest other than you, i promise!" you cried out, the tip of his cock teasing your clit before entering you again.

"see? it wasn't that hard speaking up and using your voice for something other than begging for my dick." he said, looking into your eyes, and the smile he gave you was so pretty that you just knew that fucking in missionary would end up with you saying something forbidden, something dirty. he was right, you were stained after all. "you're such a good girl, can't believe you go around with my cum in your pussy looking that innocent." he chuckled.

he put your handcuffed hands on his neck, making you hug his neck before he made one of your legs wrap around him, thrusting into you until his tip teased just the right spot inside you.

"fuck! father, please, keep going!" you begged, crying as your head hide on the curvature of his neck.

he tugged your hair back, making your eyes meet his, the ones you were trying your best to avoid, the ones you knew that once you looked into, you would see the abyss of the fire of hell waiting for you. he leaned closer to you, his face mere inches of yours. he couldn't kiss you, no. it'd make everything worse- but god, his lips looked so pretty. so kissable. you wanted him to, and inside of you, your heart prayed he would. but he didn’t.

"you're so eager." he smiled, groaning as you squeezed his cock between your gummy warm walls and cried while he nibbled om your neck and earlobe. "but you heard what i said about your language. the church is no place for that." he said.

"but you- hah, god! y-you're always cussing around too! y-you called me a whore just two minutes ago!" you cried out, defending yourself in this situation was pathetic.

"because you are one, lamb." he said, chuckling as he kissed your tears on the right corner of your mouth. too close to your lips. "my language can be excused when i'm telling the truth," he paused, growling while his forehead leaned into yours. "your language, however, is just a bunch of fucks."

"f-father, please don't." you said, moaning while trying your best to pull away from his lips.

"'don't', what? 'don't cum inside this time'? 'don't suck on my neck'?" he asked, his eyes boring into yours as he thrusted faster and deeper into you. ah, you always looked so pretty when he fucked you and messed you up, such a slutty mess.

"d..don't kiss me," you said, for his surprise. and he chuckled at you. you could handle fucking a priest but couldn't handle a kiss? how cute. "you're too close to me, y-your lips- i want you to."

"be more specific," he groaned, his hips slapping in yours as his cock hit your cervix and his hand slapped your ass. "you want me to do what, dear?"

"i want you to kiss me." you pleaded, crying from humiliation.

"you told me not to." he said, teasing you as his thumb rubbed on your clit, making your walls squeeze him. he gasped, soft grunts leaving his mouth as he frowned, looking down to see his cock disappearing inside your pussy with each thrust.

"please do. p-please, please." you begged. this wasn't the first time you fucked him, but it would be the first time you kissed him, and in general, it would be the first time you kissed at all. "just this once. j-just today."

"pray." he demanded.

"what? no- not now. it's wrong. it's dirty" you sobbed.

"just like you. pray." he said again, torturing you as he montioned his hips in a slow, steady place. you gulped down, apologizing to jesus mentally before commiting the terrible sin you were about to.

"o-our father, who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name, thy kingdom come-" you cried, your heart heavy with guilt. "t..thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven, give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses." you closed your eyes shut, overstimulation hitting you like a brick as you sobbed.

he begin thrusting faster in you, your voice melting at each rapid thrust that hit your uterus, his cock entering deep inside you, his balls kissing your core as his member throbbed inside you. "keep going." he said, and so you did.

"as we- ugh, coryo! as we forgive, those who- who tre... who trespass against us," you groaned, feeling your climax arriving. you held yourself, prohibiting yourself from cumming in such a time. "and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil,"

he kissed you, his tongue tangled on yours. such a filthy kiss, such a messy kiss, took you over the edge. his hand brought you closer by your waist, fucking you relentlessly while his other hand held your head, kissing you roughly. you came first than him, a wet mess being made on him as you squirt on him, moaning into the kiss as he kept going, cumming inside you right after you.

"a...amen." you finished, shaking as he pulled his cock from you, kissing your tears alway.

"good girl." he said, kissing your temple. you pouted as he cleaned your tears, and after straightening your clothes and pulling his pants back, you were still shaking, your legs trembling from the intense orgasm you just had. "be a good lamb and sit there while i bring you water and clean myself, okay?"

and you nodded obediently, sitting on the first bench you could reach.

he was so gentle to you. so good. your brain thanked heavens that he made you pray during that, even if it was the biggest sin you've commited, you knew that if he hadn't done such a thing, you would tell him you loved him.

fuck, you're a terrible christian. and to think your parents were so proud of you being such a church girl.

tagging: @tiaamberxx

[appocalipse]

summary: you were way too drunk last night and said some funny things...so, of course, steve had no other option but take you to his place to take care of you. :)

read part 1 here

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

Your head hurts.

Everything feels a little weird, in fact, but especially your head, spinning and throbbing and, when you try to pry your eyes open, the sudden harsh light streaming into the room feels like it's physically boring straight through your brain.

"Fuck," you whimper pitifully, eyes squeezing shut once more. Your ears are ringing, there's a coppery film lining the inside of your mouth and, for a terrible second, your stomach churns dangerously. "Fuck."

Someone hums somewhere near your right ear. A low, gravelly, vaguely amused sort of hum. There is absolutely nothing and no one alive on this green earth that would hum in that particular fashion except your best friend.

You peel your eyelids apart with great difficulty. When you tilt your head to the right, you see Steve sitting on the edge of the bed, gazing down at you with a soft look on his face.

Naturally, you proceed to freak the fuck out.

"Jesus Christ," you cry, scrambling backwards until you feel the back of your head slam against the headboard with a resounding thud. The dull throb in the back of your skull intensifies, and you have to fight back the urge to throw up. "Ow! Shit, I—What—what happened? Why are you in my—"

Hold on a second...this is not your room.

You cast an anxious, furtive glance around the unfamiliar setting of Steve Harrington's guest room. Panic floods your veins and has your heart hammering in your chest when you notice that you're clad in only one of his shirts and sweatpants that definitely don't belong to you.

Oh, Dear Lord.

Did something happen last night that you can't remember? Did something — oh, God, no.

Steve raises his eyebrows at you as though he can read your mind. "Relax. Nothing happened, relax, come back down," he coos gently, placing a placating hand on your arm. "And I...I didn't see anything, if that's what you're worried about. Nancy and Robin, uh...they helped you shower and get changed last night. Not me."

You cover your face with both hands, letting out a muffled groan as your memories come trickling back in. You don't remember every little detail from the previous night, but what you do remember is already more than enough to fill you with mortification and regret.

"...you said some pretty interesting things while you were drunk, though."

"Shut up," you mumble, peeking up at him through splayed fingers, "go away."

"Really, though," Steve continues, the teasing glint in his eyes a sure sign that he is very much enjoying your suffering, "who knew you found me so attractive?"

"Oh, Jesus," you mutter, groaning as you slide down to hide underneath the comforter, "where are my clothes? I want to leave now."

Steve snickers but makes no move to get up from his perch on the bed. You can hear the rustling of fabric, like he's adjusting his position as he waits for you to come out from under the blanket. "Clothes are in the wash, sorry," he says, sounding very much not sorry at all. "You, um, thought it was a good idea to lie down on the grass last night."

"Kill me now."

"Nope," he chirps, quite cheerfully so, "can't do that, because then who would watch Back to the Future with me tonight?"

You part the comforter just enough to peer up at him from beneath the thick layer of blanket.

"'Back to the Future'?" you echo, trying to ignore the fact that you feel a little lightheaded when Steve smiles down at you.

He looks nice. He always does, but even more so now for some reason — you're guessing it has something to do with the fact that you just woke up and haven't had the time to mentally prepare yourself for seeing him up close yet.

"Mmhmm. You up for it?"

"I'm pretty sure that my head is literally going to explode any time now." 

It's really not that bad anymore, but Steve doesn't need to know that, does he?

He nods seriously in agreement. "Right, because you drank way more than you should've last night. Might have mentioned something about rules and...mhmm, what was it? Oh, yes, dying if I didn't let you touch my hair…?"

"No, I didn't."

"You really did," he tells you, leaning back on the heels of his palms, "but don't worry, it was cute."

"I am very much worried," you say miserably.

Steve lets out a quiet sigh and leans forward again, hands reaching out to tug the blanket down far enough to uncover your face completely. "Come on," he says, "do you need anything? Aspirin, maybe? Food? Water?"

You consider his offer, taking the time to mull it over while you avoid his gaze. 

"Why did you bring me home with you?" you ask, curious despite yourself. "Why didn't you just take me home?"

"You, uh...really didn't want me to. Pretty much refused to let go of me all night."

"Steve."

"No, really!" he insists, holding both hands up in surrender. "It was like trying to pry a koala off a tree. You even asked—"

You let out a helpless moan of protest and turn away from him as much as you can, hiding your face in the pillow. Steve laughs, clearly delighted by the fact that he's managed to thoroughly embarrass you in less than ten minutes.

"You asked me if I—"

"I don't wanna know!"

"—would sleep in your bed with you."

"Nope," you whisper, your voice coming out a little garbled due to the way you've pressed your face into the pillows, "don't wanna hear it. Shut up, Steve, oh my God. Please."

"It was very adorable."

"I was drunk."

"Still. Cute."

You prop your head up on your elbow so that you can see him a little better, keeping the blanket held tightly around your shoulders as you do. "Sorry I called you. I don't even remember doing it, Tina just told me to and…sorry."

Steve looks down at his lap, shifting a little uncomfortably on the bed.

"I don't mind," he says, lifting his gaze up to meet yours briefly. "You said you missed me. At the party."

A dry, humorless chuckle leaves you and you cringe when the sudden motion sends a sharp pain lancing through your forehead. "Ow. Of course you would remember that," you say, cheeks heating up.

"Do you...remember everything?"

You blink, momentarily confused by the sudden change in conversation. "Everything?" you ask, more to buy yourself some time than anything else.

"You, um..." Steve trails off, clearly unsure of how to broach the topic with you, "you said I made you feel…stuff inside. That you felt stuff. Or something like that. Do you...remember saying that?"

You can practically feel all the color draining out of your face, leaving behind a blank canvas that hides none of your inner panic. 

"Uh...no, no, I don't. Do you have a...I need to, um, use your bathroom, like, right now, if you don't mind."

Steve blinks. "Oh, okay. Sure. I bought you a toothbrush earlier, by the way. It's in the medicine cabinet if...if you want."

"Yep," you say, climbing out from under the blanket with as much dignity as you can muster (which is very little), "yep, okay, thanks. I'm...gonna go do that. Now. Okay, bye."

You spend a good five minutes inside the bathroom splashing water in your face while silently wishing for death to come claim you sooner rather than later. Then, you brush your teeth with the toothbrush Steve left out for you — which is totally not cute, it's not cute, why did he do that, ugh, damn him — before venturing out into the hall.

"Steve?"

"Kitchen," he calls out from somewhere at the bottom of the stairs, "you want pancakes?"

You hesitate.

The idea of staying to have breakfast alone with Steve Harrington seems oddly intimate after last night, a dangerous prospect that will undoubtedly lead to awkward small talk and more teasing. However, he did go out of his way to buy you a toothbrush this morning...

You swallow down the nervousness you feel and pad barefoot down the staircase into the foyer, following the sounds of clinking utensils and soft humming to the kitchen.

Steve looks up from his place at the stove when you appear in the doorway.

"Hey," he greets, giving you a quick once over. "How's your head?"

"Feels like there's a little person in there hitting it repeatedly with a little hammer," you admit, grimacing a little as you come further into the room and sit down at the island. "Thanks, by the way. For helping me out last night. And today. I really am sorry for...um, you know, that."

"'That'?"

You purse your lips and Steve grins.

"Yes, that," you mutter, swiveling your seat from left to right while you watch him attempt to read a recipe on the back of a box of pancake mix. "Drunk me is like, twice as embarrassing as sober me."

"Embarrassing isn't the word I'd use."

"Please," you scoff, "I was pathetic. I could barely walk by myself."

Steve glances back at you. "I didn't think you were pathetic."

You raise an eyebrow at him skeptically.

"Okay, maybe a little pathetic," he concedes with a little snort, "but mostly just…sweet."

"Sweet?"

"Yeah, sweet. Don't know if anyone's ever told you that before."

"Sweet," you say again, the headache suddenly no more than an afterthought. "That's how you'd describe me?"

Steve, apparently having given up on making sense out of the instructions on the back of the box, turns around to lean against the counter behind him and studies you with his arms folded loosely over his chest.

"Yes," he says, tilting his head to the side a little. "Not the word you expected me to say?"

There's something about the way he's looking at you. It's warm and piercing all at once, like he can see right through you. It makes it hard for you to breathe all of a sudden, hard for you to do anything but gape at him like a goldfish that's been pulled out of water.

"Uh, I'm...confused."

"Me too," he admits with a little huff of laughter. "I was thinking about what you said."

"About your hair?"

"No, well, yeah, but—" Steve pauses, dragging a hand down his face with a weary sigh. "Look, what you said to me yesterday, about the things I make you feel, I—"

"I said I'm sorry—"

"Don't apologize," Steve interrupts, shooting you an unamused look, "I'm trying to say something here, come on, give me a sec."

"Right. Sorry. Go on."

"You're not supposed to apologize for apologizing."

"I'm s—okay, right. Mouth shut."

Steve purses his lips to stifle his amusement at your antics. You fold your arms in front of your chest and keep your gaze fixed firmly on the marble countertop as you wait for him to continue.

"I, uh," he says, pushing himself away from the counter so that he can wander over to the other side of the kitchen, where you sit, "I feel things too, you know. With you."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Steve chuckles, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck as he stops beside you, "'Oh'. Weird, right?"

You'd like to, but can't think of anything clever to say that would serve as a suitable response. You don't think Steve's looking for one, anyway, because he reaches out to tap his fingers lightly on the back of your hand, taking a seat on the stool next to yours.

"S'weird, 'cause I don't know if you meant what you said when you were drunk, or if it was just the alcohol talking, or what."

You shake your head quickly, and then wince because of the way the headache thuds behind your right eye.

"Robin says I'm an idiot and should stop being such a chicken," he continues, with a slight roll of his eyes. "And Eddie says if I don't 'shut up and tell you how I feel soon', he'll do it for me."

You nod, smiling despite your hangover. "Eddie's, uh, got a point, no?"

"Maybe," Steve allows, rubbing absently at the side of his neck.

He lets his hands slide down to the legs of your stool, fingers curling around the metal of each side. You don't quite understand what he's doing until he gives them a light tug, jerking you closer to him without warning.

You let out a little shriek of surprise as you reach up to clutch onto the first solid thing your hands find — his forearms. 

"Ah! What—Steve!"

He's got an amused smile on his face, but his eyes are bright and nervous all at once. Steve pushes your stool even closer to him, until your knees knock against his own and he's forced to lean down to keep his eyes on you.

You hold his gaze steadily as he edges closer. "What are you doing?" you murmur, watching his eyes flit downward to track the movement of your tongue as it peeks out to wet your dry lips.

"Not sure yet," Steve hesitates when your lips are a hairsbreadth apart. He watches, half-dazed, half-entranced by the way you stare back at him, unblinking. "But I've got a theory."

"A theory?"

He lowers his head toward yours. You press your hands flat against the hard plane of his chest to steady yourself, fingers splaying over the soft material of his t-shirt as you curl them around the fabric. Steve exhales, and you can feel his breath on your skin, a soft tickle that raises the goosebumps all over your skin.

"Wanna hear it?"

You nod slowly, aware of the way his eyes darken as they trace your face. He's so close that you can make out the fine dusting of freckles and moles that litter his skin, the long fan of his lashes as they flutter to a close. If you moved even slightly, your lips would brush against his.

"What's your…your theory?" you whisper.

You can feel his heartbeat thudding in his chest as he releases his hold on your stool, lifts both hands up to cradle your face instead. He slides the tips of his fingers along the side of your neck, lets his thumb trace your jaw.

"I think," Steve says, and you can tell he's struggling to string two coherent words together when you feel his thumb quiver against your cheekbone. "I think that, uh, you're—Christ, I—"

His nose brushes against yours and you tilt your chin up instinctively, chasing the brief contact. You smirk. "Christ, you...?"

"Shut up," Steve huffs out a breathless laugh. "I'm getting to it."

"Are you?" you tease, wrapping your fingers around his wrist, your turn to pull him towards you gently.

Steve goes easily, moving his hand from your face to brace the back of your neck. "I think," he starts, eyes crinkling at the corners, "that I might be in love with you."

It's such an unforeseen, unexpected confession that your heart almost gives out in your chest. 

You gape up at him, at his crooked grin, at his rosy cheeks. "You think?"

He blinks and then squints down at you like he can't decide whether he wants to be annoyed at your antics or kiss you. You hope for the latter, but he says, "What're you, a parrot?"

Shrugging, you're unable to keep your lips from quirking into a grin of your own. "Rude."

Steve's head falls forward and he rests his forehead against yours. You can feel his pulse thundering wildly against the hand you've pressed flat against his chest, and it makes you feel a little better about your own pounding heart.

"M'sorry."

You smooth a hand over his shirt and hook a finger under the neckline. "Forgiven," you tell him.

"Good," Steve says, nudging his nose against yours playfully.

You want to say something else, maybe tease him about his hair or something equally as inconsequential, but he doesn't let you. Instead, he leans down and closes the distance between you with a slow, tentative press of his lips to yours.

Now, Steve's mouth is soft and warm, and he kisses you like he's got all the time in the world. You shiver when he drags his fingers up the back of your neck, tangling them in your hair so that he can pull you closer yet.

You only pull back when the need to breathe becomes too urgent, giggling at the little noise of protest he lets out as you do. But Steve is nothing if not persistent, and he pulls you back in almost immediately, the movement so abrupt that you nearly topple backwards off the stool.

"Steve—I..." you manage to say, between your giggles and the heated press of his lips against yours. "I still...need to breathe, mister."

He huffs out a little laugh against the side of your neck, nips at the sensitive skin in retaliation. You squeal in delight and jab him playfully in the stomach, laughing as he recoils in mock agony.

"Stop laughing," Steve complains, the warmth of his own laughter tickling the underside of your chin when he nuzzles his nose into your neck once more, "come on, you're ruining the moment."

"Wait," you breathe, right before his lips meet yours again, "so...no pancakes, then?"

He drops his forehead against your shoulder and shakes with quiet laughter."You," Steve mumbles into the side of your neck, "are something else, you know that?"

You grin. "Apparently, you like that. Love that...no?"

You can feel him smile, the stretch of his lips curving against the skin of your shoulder.

"Apparently...yeah, I do. I do."

[bixiaoshi]

"that's not how u formulate an idea" well that is how i do it idgaf if that's not how u taught us

[lumiheartszz]

i need sleeping sex w/ prist! wilbur

-🌸

Priestbur can fuck me hard whenever he wanted

MINORS DNI !!

Warnings: Somnophilia / Dubcon / Priestbur having a corruption kink

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You were such an obedient little girl as you listened on about him rambling on about the lord and savior who is Jesus Christ, sharing the gospel with those willing.

It turned him on, the idea of ruining you, tainting your perfect, innocent body. It was as if all his beliefs disappear whenever you're there. He could cum just thinking about what it would be like to corrupt your sweet, delicious soul.

When you stayed after mass to clean the small church, it was his last string.

"It's so rare to find people cleaning the house of the Lord." He mused as he walked up to you.

"Oh, of course, Father Wilbur! The Lord's abode must stay clean at all times, just as he cleansed us."

Fuck, did it spur him on seeing you so absolutely obedient.

"Hey, since you've worked so hard, why not take a little nap at the nearby chambers? I'm sure it'll refresh you, dear." His smile was so deceiving, you didn't even notice anything off.

"That'd be great, Father! Thank you!" You smiled. The chambers are where Wilbur, the priest, sleeps.

It only took you a few seconds to fully fall asleep, and Wilbur took advantage of this. He stroked your cheek with the back of his hand, feeling himself get even harder.

"Shit, can't believe God made you so fucking tempting..." he groaned, palming himself as he touched your sleeping figure. He unbuckled his belt, lowering his pants enough for his hard cock to be freed.

He hissed as he felt the cold air touch his arousal. He started stroking himself at the sight of you. He badly needed to be in you.

"Fuck... your probably have a tight little cunt, huh?" He hissed, involuntarily thrusting into his hand.

His hand reached to go under your shirt, and to his surprise...

"No bra? Hah, baby... it's like you were asking for this to happen... you were probably waiting for this opportunity, sweetheart." He started rubbing your nipples, which made you whimper in your sleep.

"So your tits are sensitive...? I'll keep that fact for later." He had a devilish smile plastered on his face.

Spreading your legs, he licked his lips at how wet you've become just from him touching your tits.

"What a little temptress you are, angel..." he whispered, rubbing in between your folds.

"Wilb...ur..." You moaned in your sleep. So you were thinking about him? This only spurred him on further. He wasted no time to position himself close to your hole and slowly pushing in. You let out a squirm, but not quite waking up just yet.

"Shit-- you're so--" he lost the words that he was meant to say, feeling how tight you are wrapped around him.

When he started to thrust, your moans gradually got louder. You're definitely having a wet dream, and about him, no less.

He thought about how pure and innocent you were before he came into your life. The thought of you touching yourself to him nearly made him cum.

His thrusts significantly sped up thinking about how to corrupt you. "I'm gonna-- gonna cum in you... taint you with my aura. You're mine." He growled as he shot spurts of cum inside you.

This, unbeknownst to his knowledge, woke you up.

"F-father Wil-?"

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