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witchcraftandburialdirt · 1 year

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Tell us a little about Haru!

ANON ASK

So ya'll noticed that, ahah! Well, he is a long time original character of mine! I'm glad you guys are interested in him, I have actually been thinking about implementing him onto the blog--although he is VERY different from Robin! More below!

Where to begin... Haruko Nakasone is the eldest son of a Japanese man who immigrated to the US and New Orleans woman, Ren Nakasone and Yvonne Rillieux. He has a sister who is 3 years his junior, Hina--and grew up in a small port town outside of the city. His family dynamic was very close and nuclear, although his father would often travel for business, Yvonne's parents were over foten to help with the house, and Haru took up cooking at a semi-young age. He had a fairly standard childhood, playing with local children and attending school, as well as learning to hunt with his grandfather at the age of 10. He received a German Shepherd puppy at the age of 12 after begging his mother like a complete brat, he named her Bonnie.

However when he entered middleschool his town was flipped onto its head as a string of murders began to rip suburbia apart, the victims ranging from adults to children. A strict curfew was placed over time and naturally, being a teenager, Haru decided one day to ignore this. He met a few friends at the football fields of his school to try alcohol for the first time, and subsequently knocked out under the bleachers after taking too many shots of fireball. He woke up to everyone having left, and himself alone while the sunset lower in the sky. Haru was quick to grab his stuff and book it home, but he was met with a very standard looking man, who Haru recognized as one of the workers from the local grocery store, and he greeted him, hoping to get a ride back home, only to realize that was not going to happen.

Haru doesn't really remember what happened in the following moments but his consciousness returned to him he was sitting over the man with his own hands bloody, realizing he was bleeding from his stomach. He called 911 and was transported to the hospital, and while they stablized him, he saw the body put into the bag and zipped up for good. Haru struggled with the repercussions of his actions and slowly became more and more of a loner after rumors spread around his school which eventually fell off once he entered highschool. Although as the rumors fell away he couldn't push away the trauma of what happened and grappled with himself to try and figure out what happened and why he felt so elated after. The answer was he was scared and acted out of defense and that's literally it but he's too wrapped up in "I wasn't scared" to accept it. He chased that high and ended up dabbling in illicit affairs as well as joining a shitty fight club that he could physically remove his stress when the memory relapsed. He took up hunting more and more as well.

Repression doesn't help anything though and when he was finally in college in the city, for a biology degree he did not want, Haru ended up failing most of his classes and used his tuition money for more illicit affairs--and dropped out. After nearly crashing his car, he finally began to sober up and put those things behind him, but the spark from his youth still called out, and eventually he used his shooting lessons for something more lucrative. In order to pay his parents back, since he made his mother cry and can't forgive himself for it, he began to take hit jobs around the city for the every day man instead of the mob--he refuses to get involved in that nonsense. Eventually he gained enough money to pay his mother back and open a tattoo shop on main street, finally falling into a semblance of happiness.

He is currently 25 years of age, 178cm, and lives alone with his dog, Bonnie--who is now 13 years old and somewhat struggling with the stairs of his apartment building. Haru picks her up and carries her up and down 5 flights of stairs so she can go on her old lady walks and go potty, and generally spoils her. His days consist of tattoo appointments with Bonnie in the shop, lounging on her doggy bed, before it closes at 6pm. Most days he goes back home and cooks dinner with a standard documentary on, he still drinks daily and he also smokes cannabis--but has a tight control on what he actually needs to take. However on hit days, he takes Bonnie home before changing into tactical gear so he can snipe his target without worry. He has burned his fingerprints just in case, and takes all types of jobs--sometimes even doing them for free if he thinks the hit deserves it.

He works out with weights a few times per week, takes self defense classes, and jogs daily; keeping strong not only for his work/Bonnie, but because he secretly is still horrified of the past sneaking up on him despite it being 6 feet under ground. He has a motorcycle that he maintains himself with lessons he learned from his grandfather, and owns two Berettas along with his (usually disassembled) CheyTac M200. He can probably beat most people up, although he doesn't really engage in random acts of violence anymore and prefers to just have his simple little life with his dog. He's panromantic/pansexual and is surprisingly friendly despite his resting bitchface and semi-rude behavior. Haru also has a sleeve (the design of which I won't post here because this is already very long) as well as a tatto on his left hand--he is ambidextrous and very flexible. He has 3 stab scars on his stomach and side from the attack, and views them as a badge of honor.

As for implementing him into the blog--it HAS been a thought I've been wiggling around in my brain. I could see him integrating into Zaun pretty easily, and in DBD--definitely a survivor because he just SCREAMS Final-Girl-Energy (and because I need him to kick Frank or Danny or BOTH in the dick). Either way, if you DO want to ask him questions or send prompts, that's all well, it'll help me gage if people would want to interact with him, since, as I said, he's very different from Robin.

#Haru #another muse on my blog?#its more likely than you think #anon ask #this was longer than I intended #he's a stone cold killer bitch #sometimes #he can be gentle if necessary #he honestly just wants a normal and simple life despite his work #comparatively he's very normal when placed next to Robin #no demons no crazy weird voodoo stuff #mun speaks #he'll fight pretty much anything tho #my art uwu #maybe i'll add him if enough people are interested #just a very different flavor compared to robin

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very-feral-lesbian · 2 years

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I don’t really have a good reason, except being home sick and the new season just started on Netflix, but I think Eddie would love The Great British Baking Show ☺️

no no but you are so correct. this has been a headcanon of mine for a while and its been on my list to write about. so thank you for the opportunity, anon!!

since it was just eddie and wayne most of the time when he was a teen, they got really into baking shows. mainly it was just because eddie wasn’t into the sports that wayne wanted to watch and wayne never really could follow the plots of eddie’s fantasy movies, but always gave a valiant effort to understand before falling asleep on the couch.

so the two of them got really, really into baking shows. like it was their thing. when they would sit down togeth for a meal, they always played a re run of their favorites. lately, their favorite had been martha stewart because she was a always baking the best shit. and wayne and eddie always went around now saying her catchphrase, “its a good thing”

so when steve and eddie started dating, steve was really quite confused by his boyfriend’s affinity for baking shows. i mean, he knew about his love for all things fantasy, that much was clear, but baking shows? unexpected to say the least.

his first night coming over for dinner with the munson’s was cute. he never grew up with family dinners that didn’t require suits and full place settings and a terribly stifled conversations. this was homey. crammed on the couch the three of them, eating the lasagna wayne had made, and watching some lady make a very elaborate tiered cake. every time martha would say “its a good thing,” the two of them would anticipate it and say it exactly when she did.

it was sweet, eddie’s face wide with a smile watching the show, joking with wayne about her technique or her decoration skills. steve was just happy to be included, to be apart of their traditions, even as an observer.

and 24 years later on august 17th of 2010, steve and eddie were on the couch in their house watching the premiere of some british baking show they had heard about. and damned if steve didn’t get a little emotional when eddie ran over to the phone to call wayne so they could talk about it afterward.

#lindz responds #like everything i do #this was longer than i intended #but i hope u enjoy anon it was fun to write #stranger things #st #st4 #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie headcanons #wayne munson #uncle wayne #text #text post #fic

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of-mutants-mystics-and-magic · 8 months

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Hi!

How's everything going?

Hello, anon, and thanks for checking in :)

Things are going ok, I went back to school today, so I'm recovering mentally /j

I will be taking a mini-hiatus during the first week of September for unrelated reasons, the one-year anniversary of a Really Bad Thing (TM) is coming up so I'm going to be doing a lot of thinking during that week-

If you've sent this ask in hopes of status on the comic, THANK YOU, I'm so glad you seem to enjoy it enough to check in, and it's coming along.

*hugs you*

#answered asks #asks #asks open #anon ask #anon #status report #status update #this was longer than i intended #but pish posh

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ixenarcaniss · 1 year

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Okay buckle up because I have opinions and theories and I figure why not shout them into the internet. We're talking about Pokémon today.

I've always been fascinated by the level of symmetry in the designs of Pokémon title legendaries. Let me explain. The obvious peak of this is in the designs of Zekrom and Reshiram from Pokémon Black and Pokémon White.

Reshiram, Pokémon's own Blue-Eyes White Dragon, is a dragon/fire type, elegantly shaped with more flowy, organic details resembling fur or feathers (i.e. its wyvern-style wings or twin plumes on its head). Its tail acts as a huge furnace, capable of emitting a red hot trail of fire as it flies.

Conversely, the Red-Eyes Black Dragon, Zekrom, is a dragon/electric type, slightly more anthropomorphically bulit, with more harsh, geometrically shaped details (i.e. its singular, antenna-like horn, or its muscular, almost mech-like upper body, arms, and wings). Its tail is a giant generator, capable of emitting a blue trail of crackling electricity as it flies.

By the standards of the time, these two might have been considered somewhat over-designed pokémon were it not for their stark, austere color pallets, which mirror each other excellently. Reshiram is all white with blue eyes, attacking with red fire, and often depicted with a background of black smoke. Zekrom is all black with red eyes, attacking with blue lightning, and often depicted with a background of white storm clouds.

Overall, they have this phenomenal quality of yin and yang, mirroring and opposing each other aesthetically and thematically. Other legendary duos/trios/etc. do this to varying degrees, following different strategies. Some contrast each other as much as possible (i.e. Groudon, Kyogre, & Rayquaza or Xerneas, Yveltal, & Zygarde), while others share an overall theme or aesthetic (i.e. Solgaleo & Lunala or Zamazenta & Zacian).

This brings me to my actual topic for this post, the newest title legendaries, Koraidon and Miraidon, featured in Pokémon Scarlet version and Pokémon Violet version respectively. Bear in mind I haven't actually finished my playthough of Scarlet, so there may be some details about these two that I'm missing.

There are two main ideas at play in these pokémon's designs. The first is their main theming. Koraidon and Miraidon as a duo represent a relationship between past and the future, with each one coming from either the distant past or far future. In fact, in Japanese, '"korai," or "古来," means ancient, or ancient past, while "mirai," or "未来," means future.

This theming is aesthetically apparent, as these two pokémon as a pair have something in common with Reshiram and Zekrom. Koraidon is very organic in its design, being very explicitly animal in shape, and sporting vibrant plumage reminiscent of the decorative dress of some traditional cultures. In contrast, Miraidon is very mechanical in its design, featuring modern details like metal claws, jet engine legs, and LED screen eyes. Different as these two are, representing disparate eras, they do share a similar basic shape.

That shape is the shape of a motorcycle.

Yes, the other main design tenet these two share is the strict requirement that they both function as lizard motorcycles. Unlike other entries in the series where title legendaries are only encountered around the climax of the main story, a distant promise of a powerful new pet, Scarlet and Violet introduce their respective legendaries right away as mounts. These guys each have a few different forms for running, swimming, gliding, and when powered up for battling, but apart from the same basic structure and posture, they share some convenient features which allow the player character to hop on and ride: some sort of "wheels," some curvy handlebars, and a nice comfy place to sit and steer.

It's a bit of a weird theme, slightly awkward in that animals and wheels don't generally mix, but seeing as riding either pokémon is a core mechanic central to the gameplay of the large open world, it works. And it doesn't stop at mechanics. The ability to ride these two pokémon has surprising connections to worldbulding. Introducing the non-legendary pokémon, Cyclizar:

As I understand, Cyclizar (cycle lizard, as you can imagine) is the evolutionary midpoint (evolution in the Earth science sense rather than the Pokémon world's sense which more resembles life-cycle metamorphosis) between the ancient Koraidon and the distant future Miraidon. It's significantly smaller and simpler in its design than its legendary counterparts, allowing it to fit in among the standard creatures of the Paldea region. It does however maintain the same basic motorcycle lizard shape as Koraidon and Miraidon. In fact, NPCs commonly ride on the backs of Cyclizar as a popular means of transport much like the player does with Koraidon/Miraidon. A pokédex entry mentions that this relationship between humans and Cyclizar has existed for over 10,000 years, suggesting greater continuity of connection to the two beasts of past and future.

This is a lot of consideration to go into the design of an entry's title legendaries. Details not only convey and support the game's lore, story, and world by connecting the two pokémon to each other, but also creatively support the game's mechanics and core gameplay. Namely, Koraidon and Miraidon suggest the themes of past and future, history and modernity, while giving the player the freedom to more easily traverse and explore the Paldea region. While I can only vouch for Koraidon, having played Scarlet myself (with Miraidon presumably being almost identical mechanically), it serves as an effective mount as well as companion, and I found it quite charming and endearing.

All this being said, I noticed something else interesting while examining these pokémon's designs. It always bothered me that a new main series Pokémon entry would choose Scarlet and Violet as its titles. After all, the very first games in the series were already Pokémon Red and Blue. (Technically Red and Green came first upon release in Japan but I digress.) It seemed weird to essentially title a game "Pokémon Slightly Different Red," but now I think I might have figured out what led to such a choice.

In looking for symmetry in Koraidon and Miraidon's designs, I considered their colors. Koraidon is mainly scarlet, with some black and white details, plus some accents of dark blue/violet. Miraidon is mainly violet, with minimal amounts of black and white detail, plus some accents of... yellow. Huh. Was hoping for more scarlet to better mirror Koraidon in the same way Reshiram and Zekrom mirror one another. Oh well, let's keep looking.

Koraidon is a fighting/dragon type. No obvious reason to be red there. The fighting type is generally represented by orange iconography, but fighting type pokémon aren't really any more likely to be orange or red. The dragon type is usually represented by purple iconography, but again, dragon pokémon aren't really any more likely to be blue/purple. Miraidon meanwhile is an electric/dragon type. Electric typing is much more apparent in this design than fighting is in Koraidon's. At least it might explain the presence of the yellow, as electric types are yellow a decent amount of the time. In fairness, Koraidon does have yellow eyes, but that's not exactly an even yin and yang balance.

Alright then, so if they aren't type-based, and they aren't even mirrored, what are the colors of these pokémon telling us? Are they just arbitrary? Chosen just because they look cool?

Have you considered:

I can't quite relate it back to the theme of past and future, nor to the theme of radical lizard motorcycles, but as compelling thematic opposites, you could do worse than the ends of the visible light spectrum. Maybe it's a stretch, but it could relate to the game's mechanic of terastal pokémon—that is, pokémon temporarily powered up in a way that crystalizes them, scattering light as if through a prism. Again, I haven't finished this game, so I can't say how related this phenomenon is to Koraidon and Miraidon, so for now, it's just a vague idea.

In lieu of that, let me present some more evidence that the visible light spectrum may be the intended theme. Consider Koraidon. It is mainly bright red, representing the longest wavelengths humans can see. It also has details in blue, at what I'll call ~2/3 into the the spectrum. On the other end, Miraidon is violet, representing the shortest wavelengths humans can see. It also has details in yellow, at what I'll call ~1/3 into the spectrum. Ah, so there is color mirroring, just not how we expected! Colors are grabbed from mirrored areas of the spectrum, mystery solved!

But there's one more clever detail in this clever system.

Cyclizar... is green.

Yup, this guy, temporally located smack in the middle of its two distant relatives, is also chromatically located smack in the dead center of the color spectrum. No, I can't really account for the red in its cheeks (although I realized that the detail is a neat midpoint between Koraidon's natural jaw and Miraidon's hinged one), but beyond those little spots, this guy's color perfectly captures the evolution of a species across distant eras. What a lovely little snapshot of our moment in Paldean history.

#pokémon #pokemon #scarlet violet #pokemon sv #koraidon #miraidon #zekrom #reshiram #this was longer than I intended #I accidentally deleted about a third of this and had to redo it #this better get notes

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shotgunscn · 2 years

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@ecopoison posted an open starter

HE KNOWS WHO SHE IS. It's his specialty ; the villians of Gotham City-- his calling to discover why this city lures them so. It's astounding, the sheer volume of unhinged, maniacal souls that reside within the city limits. Something in the air or the water some might say ; perhaps their city was cursed-- forced to endure a constant suffering despite the good people residing within her. Whatever the case Sam Winchester knows this woman, Poison Ivy-- formerly Doctor Pamela Isley ; a woman who, before her untimely downfall, had been someone the Winchester quite respected. "I'm not going to hurt you." He answers back, face shielded from the world around him by a thin black veil. One might think his hood would impede peripheral vision, but with the high tech fabric he's been handed down Sam can see perfectly clearly ; thank god for his fathers old connections.

They seem to float down back streets and alleyways, despite his gargantuan stature Sam is nimble on his feet, even carrying the weight of another against his chest. She'd arrived in the nick of time to assist-- why she'd done it Sam still isn't sure but the fact remained, if Ivy hadn't shown up just then . . . well there might have been a very different turn of events.

He can't take her home ; that much is certain. But there is some neutral ground Sam can think of ; Bobby Singer, that aforementioned connection of his fathers. Bobby traveled a lot, shaking hands and rubbing elbows-- good thing too, Sam would need all the help he could get in his quest. He's parked not too far from where the fight had occurred, and his jet black kawasaki sits nestled in it's hiding spot ; there's always a twinge of fear when Sam leaves the motorcycle-- in a city like Gotham it's not unlikely for it to be gone by the time he returns.

To say it would be awkward to hold Ivy as rides would be an understatement, but Sam's found more unconscious victims than he'd like to admit on his nightly runs and as such has discovered a solution. Harness straps slip from hidden seat compartment and The Hunter slips them over Ivy's arms and back. He connects them to himself as quickly as he can and the duo find themselves weaving through the city, cycle nearly soundless as Sam laces through the streets.

They arrive at their destination about a half hour later and the youngest Winchester cuts the engine to the kawasaki just behind Bobby's home. He disentangles himself from Ivy and brings her form inside, finally allowing her proper rest as he lies her down AGAINST THE INFORMANTS WEATHERED COUCH.

#【 » the hunter ⇢ gotham!sam « 】#this was longer than i intended #BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

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ladybeug · 4 months

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he was stupid after all...

thats romance.

merry christmas!!!! I was thinking recently I don't just draw for fun very much anymore, so I put some time aside as a christmas gift for me.

#this is so much longer than I intended it to be #i let this one run away a bit #but that was the point i guess #my art #marichat #miraculous ladybug

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breathlessangelkisses · 3 months

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how did you come out?

I didn’t 🙈

well I didn’t come out to my family because my dad’s side of the family are weird about shit like that. My mum realised when my ex girlfriend stayed over but we never ever spoke about it. I came out to my friends on twitter tbh 🙈 I wanted to avoid seeing their reactions because I didn’t know how they would react. My brother found out via instagram while I was on a date 😂 and me and my friends from uni were all stem girlies so the majority of us were queer and just kinda knew from the beginning

#this was longer than I intended #in short I didn’t because in a scaredy cat #anon asks #send me questions I love answering them

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respectablesentiment · 9 months

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Hiya! For the ask, how about 🍊, 📚, and 🪐.

Hi, thank you for the ask :)

🍊 favorite season - definitely autumn, I love when the leaves start to change and it's a bit cold without being freezing just yet

📚 how do you come up with the fics you write - I'm not really sure, I think I've tended to start writing with a strong feeling and then just figured it out from there. My first 3 fics were all rough takes of the same thing but they feel really different (at least to me).

My heart hurt so much after finishing TLOU2 the first time and nothing had really been written yet at all to help me with processing it. I wrote my first story, 'gristle and bone', within 2 days of playing it and it felt really sharp and painful to write (if that makes sense?)

Then like I was trying to calm myself down afterwards, I started to write 'waiting for dawn' and took a much slower and more measured approach and it kinda softened the same feeling. Like still painful but it was calmer and it felt lighter and lighter as I was writing.

It was around that time that I came up with the original idea for 'everything you hoped for' and that's when I wrote the opening scene (which I feel like I can really tell when reading it back). It was more of fleeting thought of "fuck I wish they didn't have to go through so much and Ellie still had her bright eyes from the first game".

I saw a really beautiful gifset of the scene at the farm where Ellie leaves and the flash of pain I got from that is where 'some things cannot be fixed' came from. That wasn't really planned and was meant to be a short one shot but I kinda had to write the second chapter to calm myself down after the first lol.

And then I finally went back to 'everything you hoped for' and finished the first chapter and started posting the story a little later. I still hate that I haven't finished it.

🪐 favorite shows / series of all time - god this is a super difficult one to narrow down. There's a lot of shows that I've watched and really enjoyed but I suppose I'm not often the type to have favourites (outside of video games lol).

I probably have the biggest soft spots for Batman: The Animated Series, Avatar: The Last Airbender & The Legend of Korra, and Bob's Burgers. I also really enjoyed the tv show adaptations of A Series of Unfortunate Events and His Dark Materials. Oh and the first season of The Good Place is top tier.

#a nice friend #ask #thank you for the question :)#this was longer than i intended

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ikarakie · 1 year

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after eddie introduces a demogorgon to one of his hellfire campaigns, the kids get a little squirmy. they're nervously looking at each other and aren't engaging as excitedly as they usually do. when he calls time, he watches dustin rummage through his backpack and produce a walkie talkie.

he watches, a bit dumbfounded, as the kid demands a 'check-in'. all at once, multiple different voices come over the channel. stating a name and then saying 'safe.' ("nancy, safe." "robin, safe." "max, safe.")

"steve?" dustin demands. there's only static. "steve!" a little more frantic this time.

"he left to pick you up." a female voice replies, "he's probably fine. you'll see him soon."

none of the kids look particularly pleased, and pack up hastily. eddie and the other hellfire members all share confused glances. he, more morbidly curious than anything else, follows the little sheep as they hurry out of the school.

dustin is fucking restless as they all stand in the empty parking lot. he won't stay still and none of them are answering any of eddie's questions. and he only gets more confused when a brown beemer pulls in, windows down and playing depeche mode through the speakers. dustin goes to sprint towards it, and he has to hold him by the collar to stop him getting run over.

the beemer pulls up and steve harrington, in all his glory, steps out, frowning. dustin wrenches out of eddie's grip and all but bodies the guy, wrapping arms tightly around his midsection. steve, still looking puzzled, hugs back. lucas and mike trail after dustin.

"we called a check-in." dustin says, a bit muffled from where his face is smushed into steve's shirt. steve goes sort of pale, and- and presses a goddamn kiss to the top of henderson's head before tightening the hug.

"shit, i'm sorry." and eddie believes him. he sounds so guilty. "i meant to replace the batteries before i left. sorry, i'm okay." dustin pulls back and scrubs at his eyes. lucas takes his place, though the hug he gives is more like one of those bro-hugs jocks seem to love. steve smiles regardless. he just ruffles mike's hair, who pouts in response but looks relieved nonetheless.

"asshole." he mutters. "rule four, walkies on at all times." steve nods as the kid half-heartedly waves goodbye to eddie and hops in the backseat of the beemer. lucas follows. dustin seems reluctant to walk around the car, to take his eyes off steve for even a second.

"you wanna stay over tonight?" steve asks, warm and gentle. he folds his arms and in that moment eddie thinks they look sort of like brothers. "robin and me were gonna watch some films. we can call your mom from mine."

the kid nods, looking a bit happier. steve slaps him on the back and motions him to get in the car. dustin swivels to hug and say goodbye to eddie (who sort of forgot he was physically present in this moment) before doing as he was told.

steve turns to eddie. which- whew! hi pretty eyes.

"sorry." he smiles and eddie can't for the life of him figure out what he's apologising for. "they, uh- yeah. them." he gestures vaguely at the car and eddie just chuckles.

"hey, man, no worries." he says, a little breathless that he's having a conversation with the steve harrington. "they okay? never seen henderson look so rattled." steve nods, then seems to think better of it and just shrugs. cocks his hip to the side (stop fucking staring at his hips, munson, lord!)

"they will be." he glances back at the beemer, which is now full of childish bickering. pauses to think and then asks, "you using demogorgons in your campaign right now?"

eddie blinks at him. "yes? yeah. what the fuck- how do you know what that is? what-" steve just laughs.

"long story." there's a haunted look in his eyes before he continues, "just, uh- that's probably what upset them. demogorgons and us- them, i mean-" he waves his hand. "bad memories. hard to explain, but... if you could..." he doesn't need to ask, seems like he doesn't know how or even if he's allowed.

"got it, ill tweak the campaign." harrington smiles at him, something small and genuine, and murmurs a thanks. offers him a fucking lift, which eddie declines, motioning to his van. harrington just nods, tells him to get home safe and then clambers back into the car, yells at the kids to put seatbelts on with all the exasperation of a single dad, and pulls away.

eddie watches them go, having seen a side of harrington he'd thought dustin had been lying about. steve harrington, the caring babysitter, everyone's older brother, a changed man.

he starts escorting the kids to the parking lot more often.

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hiddenmoonbeam · 8 months

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Finally kissing your best friend, hoping he loves you too.

#wolfstar #r/s #working on a longer post that’s taking forever so I took a break with this #which I also spent much longer on than intended #buuut now it’s here!#my art #hmb #art

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starrystevie · 10 months

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it was all supposed to be a dumb joke.

the boys had been sitting around after rehearsal one night passing a bowl and more than a few beers, laughing about how unsuccessful the newest music based social media app would be. mere seconds of songs looping over and over with other songs mixed in would never work, especially for corroded coffin where the story, the buildup of their songs was part of the reason to listen.

it all started with jeff, grinning slowly ear to ear. "what if were to get in there and take some celebrity's name for a user name? like paris hilton or something."

then it moved to gareth, who paused with a scrunched up face. "dude, paris hilton? what the fuck kind of reference is that..."

then it was over to greg, choking on a smoke-laced laugh. "yeah, it'd be funnier if it was eddie's pop prince loverboy instead."

that got everyone's attention. eddie had protested to ears that didn't want to hear it as they cackled in their studio that they rented by the hour, bent over in their rolling chairs, leaning against the side of the mixing board for support.

"loverboy?! you know i can't stand steve harrington and his bullshit lyrics, what the fuck kind of suggestion is that..."

but come the next day, when the weed had left his system and his veins were alcohol-free, eddie stared at the mixr app home screen and the blinking red circle over his inbox with disdain after successfully acquiring a user name he never would have picked for himself.

'steveharrington', eddie's account says, along with an icon of himself and his tongue out.

if it hadn't been for being less than sober when the app dropped. if it hadn't been for his best friends egging him on with taunts and jeers and kissy noises and less than sincere dreamy calls of 'oh steve' in the background. if it hadn't been for the way that eddie secretly did think about a certain head of floppy hair and soft brown eyes and shoulders littered with constellations.

if it hadn't been for all of that he wouldn't have had the chance to have his celebrity crush, the steve harrington, in his inbox at 8am on a random tuesday morning.

"good morning!" the message says simply enough. eddie stares at the words, trying to process what they mean, looking at the verified username of 'steveharrington1' next to an icon of his most recent album along with it. his inbox is flooded with people all asking him random things, thinking he's the real steve harrington, but this one verified account has him shaking.

for all that eddie is, all big hair and black jeans and skull rings and leather, he's still a man. a man who can look at a pop star, annoying as their music may be, and see charm. he can see attractiveness. he can see that smile that steve harrington has perfected behind his eyelids and he can see them strolling off into the sunset together hand in hand and he can see steve all flushed and breathing heavily underneath him on a mountain of plush pillows and he can see-

the message pings again with a new addition. "i know this seems weird and my team advised against it but i'd really like your user name of... well, my name."

eddie blinks slowly. he pictures steve maybe laying in bed, maybe sitting at the breakfast table with a cup of coffee, with his phone in his hand as he types out a message to him. to think that steve has any idea about him existing on any sort of level is doing his head in. his heartbeat races a little faster as he types back with shaky hands and a pit in his stomach.

"is this real?" is all he can type out, leaning against the kitchen counter as he waits for his coffee to brew.

three dots pull up on the app screen before disappearing and eddie pulls his lip in between his teeth to focus his energy elsewhere. he tears his eyes away from his phone and looks out the window to watch the people out for their morning walks. he's just about to the point where he thinks about maybe taking up walking if nothing else to get all the pent up energy out of him when the app dings again. as he looks back, his heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach.

it's a photo of steve that can't have been released before. he's sitting outside in bright sunshine with sunglasses on, tousled hair and grin on his face. he's holding his hand up in a thumbs up and eddie can see the remnants of cream cheese on the side of his index finger.

he sucks in a stuttering breath through his teeth, trying to force his lungs to breath again. the dots pop up on screen once more and the message that comes through is instantaneous.

"real enough for you?" it reads. and then an additional message is tacked on. "need me to hold up a newspaper with the date on it?"

there's a winky face that follows and it feels fake even though it's very real. this whole morning feels wrong, unreal. he's just eddie munson, some singer in some halfway popular band in some kind of shitty neighborhood in los angeles that just happens to have not just some pop star in his dms. this doesn't happen to him.

"why did your team tell you not to message me? does my reputation precede me?"

eddie pulls his hand up to his mouth to bite at the side of his fingernail, watching the screen with rapt attention and waiting for the typing dots to disappear.

"according to this account your name is steve harrington and yes, i'd say his reputation does precede him."

eddie barks out a laugh, not exactly expecting that.

he didn't know what he was expecting out of any of this. he thought that it might help get the corroded coffin name out more if he got tangled up somehow with the steve harrington name. spark a little bit of drama to boost their visibility. but now here he is, talking to the man himself, cracking jokes and trying not to hyperventilate.

"how were you able to get this name so fast anyway? my team was on it right when the app dropped last night."

"i had the power of bandmates and weed on my side," he types back, side of his mouth quirking up into a smile.

"oh so you're a musician? maybe i should be looking into your reputation then, mystery person."

eddie pauses and thinks about every option. he is semi-known in the metal scene, his outlandish stunts on stage and political speeches at shows that garner them becoming an almost brand for him. if he tells steve who he is, would he know? care? run away from the scary guy who may or may not use stage blood in every music video?

but the thing is, he's not a scary guy and he never has been. he might be a little intimidating and he guesses that's the armor he puts on everyday after being bullied in school but it's not an accurate showing of who he is. eddie is sweet, funny, kind of smart in that has random fun facts about dungeons and dragons kind of way.

and he wants the steve harrington to know that guy.

eddie flips over at his middle so his head is nearly touching the floor and ruffles his hair, giving it volume and calming down the frizz that comes from sleep. he shakes it out of his face once he's upright and grabs his garfield coffee mug if only to have something to do with his hands. grabbing his phone off the counter, he opens the camera option in their message thread and snaps a quick picture of himself grinning, mug next to his face with a matching cat-like smirk. he nervously presses send before he can even think about all the flaws with it.

"eddie munson at your service," is what he types out with a saluting emoji and a muttered prayer to whoever would listen to him that things don't end horribly.

it's not like he's expecting to sweep steve off his feet. he knows that steve has picture perfect partners, he sees enough internet news to know that gruff and dark isn't the kind of guy he normally goes for. but he looks back at the photo he sent and hopes that steve sees the kindness in his eyes, the scruff on his jawline that makes it look just the smallest bit chiseled, the whimsy and life that he embodies that comes from a tacky coffee cup.

there isn't an automatic answer and it makes whatever hope eddie has floating around his system falter. ''at this point you've probably searched me and i can reassure you, i'm not actually a vampire like google seems to think i am."

"holy shit."

it's short, two words followed by typing dots that disappear, reappear, disappear once more before reappearing for the last time.

"would you believe me if i told you that i am huge fan??"

choking on coffee hurts, eddie finds out. he coughs as the hot liquid goes down the wrong pipe and concentrates on the messages once he gets his bearings back. steve, the steve harrington, a fan of his? it's a prank, it has to be, there is no way that steve harrington-

"one of my exes took me to your show at the bowl and it quite possibly changed my life. you gave that speech about the pipeline before the encore and i went home and bought every single one of your albums that same night."

he's dead. the papers will read 'eddie munson found dead in his home in a ratty metallica shirt holding onto a garfield coffee mug and cellphone open to a chat where steve harrington tells him he's a fan of his work'. it's the only way that this is possibly happening. he's died and gone to whatever fucked up version of heaven has him still living in his shitty la apartment.

"are you fucking kidding me?" is what he types back, slamming his coffee mug onto the counter to have access to both hands. "you've heard my stuff?"

and then it happens, like out of a shitty teenage rom-com, his phone is lighting up with an in-app call from steve harrington. the steve harrington. careful not to drop his phone in his hurried movements, he presses accept faster than he thinks his fingers have every worked.

"hello?" he questions into the phone and there's no hello back, just steve apparently freaking out as much as he is.

"i hope this is okay," he says and god, does his voice sound wonderful over the phone like this. "but it's faster and i have too many things to say that typing it all out would be stupid."

eddie grins and his feet tap against the ground like an excited kid. "it's fine, i uhm... i get it. god, this is weird."

steve hums in agreement before laughing. and oh, that laugh. it has eddie floating up to cloud nine, heart thumping painfully in his chest, butterflies beating their wings wildly in his stomach.

"yeah, it's definitely not how i expected this morning to go. talking to eddie munson, wow."

"sure," eddie snorts, "you talk to celebrities all the time, i'm sure this is small fish for you."

he hears steve laugh again, soft and gentle, like it's meant just for eddie. "i might talk to celebrities all the times but not ones that i have posters on my wall of like a pre-teen. i'm properly geeking out right now."

eddie short circuits. that's the only way to explain the way his body shuts down as he slumps into an armchair in the living room.

"you, steve harrington, have posters of me on your bedroom wall?" eddie's mouth feels dry as he talks and regrets making coffee at all because he's wide awake now and feels jittery.

"well okay, to be fair, it's of the whole band and it's in my studio but you are shirtless so i contemplated putting it in my bedroom." something shifts on the other end of the line and it sounds like steve sitting down. there's birds chirping in the background and eddie closes his eyes to picture himself sitting with steve on a patio instead of in his dingy apartment.

"you're gonna give me big head, pretty boy." the pet name slips out before he can stop it and the pitch of his voice lowering is out of his control. eddie can't be held responsible for his actions at 8am especially when he's flirting over the phone with his celebrity crush.

"pretty boy, hmm?" steve murmurs back. "so does that mean you have posters of me too?"

the timbre of his voice shoots from eddie's ears all the way down to his toes, lighting his veins on fire as it travels down his body. the hopeful part of his brain supplies an image of steve smirking, relaxing in a pool chair outside of what must be a mansion, phone in one hand and cup of coffee in the other. it could be domestic, if eddie thinks about it hard enough. if he wants it enough.

and god, does he want that. domestic bliss with steve harrington.

"well i wouldn't exactly call picturing you in my dreams every night posters, but it's close enough i guess."

it's gutsy, it's brash, it's too forward for a tuesday morning but steve started it. he hears a shaky exhale on the other end of the line and lets out a chuckle. it feels like they're playing chess and there's no clear cut winner quite yet but if the match ends in a tie, eddie can't exactly say he'd be upset about it.

"i tell you what," steve says in an almost airy voice. "in exchange for giving me my user name, i'll give you my number and you can use it to see me in something other than your dreams tonight."

"...are you bribing me, harrington?"

"is it working?"

eddie takes in a deep breath and thinks about what possible plans he could have with the username 'steveharrington' that would amount to something better than taking the man himself out on a date with his phone number saved as a contact in his phone. he'd put a heart next to it and everything.

"of course it is."

the call drops away and it's quick enough for eddie to think everything that happened in the last 30 minutes could have been a fever dream but then there's three dots on the message thread and his hopeful heart starts to kick back into gear.

"213-555-5469. let me know when you've given up that username and i'll let you know when to pick me up. it's a win-win all around. turns out we each get to go a date with our celebrity crushes, how lucky is that?"

it's signed with a kissing face emoji and eddie's glad that he's sitting down when the last picture steve sends comes through. he's grinning in a way eddie's never seen before, blush high on his cheeks, sweaty shoulders and collarbones and pecs glinting in the early morning sun, and eddie thinks it's probably too early to be in love with someone but he's well on his way.

he texts the number he's sent without hesitation and without shaking hands this time. he signs the message with a black heart like it's a signature of it's own.

"lucky indeed."

#wow this got SO much longer than intended why does this always happen why can i not just shut up #anyway i've been trying to figure out how to write this for a week so enjoy #steddie #steddie drabble #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #steddie headcanon #popstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #modern au

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heart-of-the-morningstar · 2 months

Text

✨Pretty Boy✨

OOOOOHHHH BUDDY I'm excited to post this story! I'm not gonna ramble for this one, so please enjoy the ride 😉

(I'm a teeny bit late on posting this but better late than never!)

Summary: You find something peculiar in the walk-in closet...

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Warnings: smut, 18+, lingerie, mention of toys, oral (f receiving), collars, pegging

"Damn it! Where the hell is it?," you shouted in frustration. You should have looked for that dress before you hopped in the shower, things would have been way smoother. Now you stood in your walk-in closet with damp hair and adorning nothing but a towel that was wrapped tightly around your chest. You could have sworn you saw that purple sequence dress hanging in here last night! Where could it have gone? You rummaged around your closet for 10 minutes now, but you still came up empty handed! You stomped over to the last rack of hanging clothes closest to the back wall, scanning every article of clothing.

While pushing each dress from left to right that wasn't the one you were hoping to find, something had caught your eye. A small golden handle on the left side of the wooden wall with hinges on the right side. A door? You were in here so often, it's hard to imagine how you could have missed it! Tentatively, you reached out to grab the handle, curious as to what you would find. The small door slowly creaked open and...woah...

You blinked a few times to make sure you were seeing what you saw hanging in there. "Lingerie?," you mumbled to yourself. Well, it certainly wasn't yours, you never really cared to wear something like that yourself, and Lucifer never seemed to mind your decision either, thankfully. You pulled one of the hanging pieces from the rack to examine it closely. The design was elegant as far as lingerie was concerned. Black fabric with lacy red leaf designs on the breasts and stomach area with no coverage around either side of the abdomen.

It was cute...but who's was it? Perhaps it was Lucifer's ex-wife Lilith's? You weren't sure why she would leave it behind. Or why Lucifer would keep them. But the more you looked at the piece of clothing you held, that didn't seem right either. This was small, smaller than most lingerie you'd seen before. And from what you had seen from pictures, Lilith was not a small woman, far from it. She had to have been at least 7' ft. tall, she would never fit in something like this.

You continued to ponder this until you went back to explore the hidden closet. There were more items located at the very bottom that brought a sudden blush to you face. "Holy shit...," you mouthed, struggling to get your brain to process what you've just found. You felt like you just accidently stumbled into one of Hell's sex shops! Dildos, vibrators, butt plugs, collars, bottles of lube and...was that a strap on? What the hell was this perverted closet?! It didn't make sense! Why was this here? Who did this stuff belong to? Why would Lucifer...?

Wait...Lucifer...

Oh! OH SHIT!

It finally clicked in your brain. This was never Lilith's. This was Lucifer's!

“Ok, ok, it’s ok, it’s fine,” you told yourself, “it’s…oh fuck me…”

You stood there dumbfounded, imagining him in the skimpy outfit you held in your hand. You saw him sprawled out in front of you on the bed, drool trailing down the side of his mouth. You saw his half- lidded eyes staring back at you as you hovered over him, his expression filled with need and lust. Your face suddenly felt hot. You were so lost in your fantasy that you didn’t hear the footsteps growing louder behind you.

“Honey?,” Lucifer called out, “are you ready to go? We’re gonna be late for-” he froze as soon as he turned the corner and saw you in your hypnotized state. You snapped your head towards him, holding him in place with your vacant stare. You both stood there wordlessly for a few seconds until Lucifer finally found his voice again.

“I-I…,” he stuttered, “I can explain.”

Oh, you would love to hear his explanation for this. But you quickly decided that you were going to have a little fun with him. Feigning annoyance, you folded your arms across your chest, still hanging on the piece of lingerie.

"And when exactly were you going to tell me about this, Lucifer?" you chastised, almost cracking a smile. "Or were you hoping that I wouldn't find this dirty little closet of yours?"

"Yes! I mean no! Th-that's not it!," he stumbled over his words. He was panicking. It was adorable watching his cheeks turn a shade of red you've never seen from him before. He tugged at the collar of his shirt, trying to cool himself down after the sudden heat spike he felt climb up his face. "Please, love, I'll tell you everything! I'm so sorry, I-I didn't know what you were going to think. I was going to tell you...eventually."

"So let me get this straight," you replied as you sauntered your way over to him, making your way over to the shaken-up man. He backed away from you slowly until he hit the end of the vanity on the other side of the room, gripping it for dear life. Once you finally stood in front of him, you grabbed Lucifer by his tie and forced his face to be inches away from yours. He held his breath as you leaned in closer and closer until he could feel your hot breath on his lips. "You mean to tell me…,” you whispered, “that I could have been fucking you senseless in lingerie this entire time?!"

In that moment, Lucifer’s mind absolutely shattered. Did you say what he thinks you just said? He inhaled sharply after remembering how to breathe. “Y-You…I…th-this is…WHAT?,” he choked out.

“Did I stutter?,” you snickered. You closed the gap between you two and placed a searing kiss on his lips. Though hesitant at first, Lucifer couldn’t help but melt into you, his eyes fluttering shut, your tongues entangled in an elegant dance. You pulled away from him, much to Lucifer’s dismay and flashed him a lustful yet devious grin. “I’m sorry for acting like I was upset with you just now, Luci. That was a tad mean, I admit. In all honesty, it’s actually quite the opposite.”

Lucifer finally released his death grip on the vanity and stood up straight, adjusting his tie that you had loosened. “Th-That’s umm,” Lucifer swallowed hard, “that’s a relief to hear, darling. This is probably the best reaction I could have hoped for.” He flashed a nervous toothy smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I think,” you smiled coyly, dropping the towel you had wrapped around your body and revealing your nakedness to a now wide-eyed and mouth agape Lucifer, “we can be a little late for dinner.”

You saw Lucifer swallow hard at the sight of you. “S-sweetheart,” he began,” I admire your eagerness, I really do! B-but we shouldn’t be late, it’s nearly impossible to get a reservation there and-”

Before he could finish making up excuses, you tossed the lingerie onto the vanity behind him and leaned forward to place your hands on either side of him, effectively trapping him against it. “You’re the King of Hell, Lucifer,” you retorted, “what are they going to do if we’re late, turn you away? Besides…” you took one of your hands and palmed the very apparent bulge in Lucifer’s suit pants, causing him to moan, “we really shouldn’t go out while you’re in this state, don’t you agree?”

Lucifer tried to steady his breathing as you continued to rub him through his pants which were now becoming extremely tight and uncomfortable. “It’s-mmph fuck…your fault,” was all he could manage.

You chuckled, loving the effect you had on him. Not to be outdone, one of Lucifer’s hands quickly slipped down between your wet folds, eliciting a surprise yelp from you. You removed your hand from his pants and gripped his shoulder for balance instead. “Well, well,” Lucifer hummed against you, “seems like I’m not the only one who’s needy right now.” He continued to tease your entrance with his fingers, your grip on his shoulder growing tighter with every passing second. But you refused to let him have the upper hand.

“So that’s how we’re gonna play this, huh?” You breathed against his neck.

“You started it, so don’t-HEY!” With one swift motion, you latched onto Lucifer’s hips and threw him over your shoulder while he tried to playfully squirm away from your grasp. You turned and marched your way over to the bed with a coy smile. “Damn it, let me go!,” Lucifer laughed, but the hold you had on him tightened even further. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry! Please put me down, love, I didn’t mean to-WOAH!” You gave him wish by tossing Lucifer onto the mattress beneath him.

“If you’re really sorry,” you teased as you hovered over him, “you’re gonna put that tongue of yours to good use.”

Lucifer’s smile widened, nodding his head vigorously. You chuckled at his eagerness to please you; it was always so endearing. “You know this is supposed to be a punishment, Luci,” you joked.

“Oh trust me, darling,” he smirked, “this will NEVER be a punishment for me.” With that, he grabbed ahold of your waist and forced your body forward, your dripping cunt now mere inches away his lips. You had no time to respond before you felt his tongue dart across your slit. A wanton moan escaped your lips as he worked his tongue around your clit, circling it with such vigor and passion. His hands dug into either side of your thighs, making sure you couldn’t move away from his ministrations. You couldn’t help but begin to grind your hips against his face, attempting to feel as much of him as possible.

“So g-good for me, Luci,” you staggered, “ffffuuuuck, s-such a good boy for me.”

Your words only seemed to make Lucifer pick up his speed, humming against your slick. His forked tongue darted in and out of you at a relentless pace, his own erection all but forgotten at this point. He was more lost in your pleasure and your intoxicating taste to worry about the almost unbearable tightness in his pants. You felt yourself reaching your peak. No matter how many times Lucifer goes down on you, you knew you’d never last long. He knew exactly what he was doing and he took pride in it. That knot forming in your stomach was on the verge of snapping at any moment.

“FUCK LUCIFER,” you moaned, “FUCKFUCKFUCK!” You forgot how to breathe as your orgasm hit you, your walls clenching around nothing as Lucifer lapped up your juices and helped prolong your high. You caught your breath once your body began to relax again. You shifted your body downwards so you could see Lucifer’s face again, now freshly adorned with your release. He flashed you an innocent looking grin, making you smirk and roll your eyes. You gave him a quick peck on his lips, tasting the faintest hint of yourself on them.

“Good boy,” you praised him, a small whimper escaping Lucifer’s throat. “Go change for me,” you tossed your head to side, indicating to the clothing you left on the vanity. Lucifer’s face flushed a deep shade of red, nodding his head wordlessly. “I’ll be right back, love.”

You made your way off the bed and walked over back to the walk-in closet, stopping at your now new favorite section. You grabbed the strap on and placed it around your waist, adjusting the harness to make sure it was snug against your body. The appendage itself wasn't overly large, around the standard 6 inches. It was perfect for both of you though, who knows how long it's been since Lucifer's done this. You wanted to take things slowly. You grabbed a bottle of lube and were about to leave when you something else in that small cupboard caught your eye. You reached down and grabbed it, wanting to complete his little ensemble. You hid the object behind your back so Lucifer couldn't see it at first.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped out of the closet once more. You scanned the bedroom in front of you until your eyes landed on him. His back was towards you, sitting on the opposite edge of the bed, seemingly gripping the sheets below him. You could sense that he was nervous. And if you were being honest, you were too. But tonight you we're going to take care of him, he more than deserved it.

"Luci?," you called out sweetly. Lucifer sat up straight when he heard his name, looking over his shoulder and giving you a faint smile. You slowly moved towards him, your breathing becoming shakier. He stood up from his seated position, hands clenched at his sides when you stopped in front of him. There was no way to hide the flush of your cheeks when you saw him in his lingerie for the first time.

Breathtaking.

The minimal clothing hugged his body so well, and the black and red coloring made his pale skin pop. You couldn't stop staring, and he noticed. He looked away from you, feeling embarrassed, as if he were on display. You took your free hand and placed in under his chin, turning his head and gazing into his lovely yellow eyes. "You look absolutely stunning, Luci. So beautiful..." you trailed off, placing a small kiss on his forehead. Lucifer couldn't help but bury his face in his hands from your words of affection.

"Can you turn around for me, baby? I have one last thing for you," you asked. Lucifer did as you asked, exhaling a deep breath. You took the object you had in the hand behind your back and wrapped it around his neck. A deep red collar with beautiful golden patters and swirls embroidered onto it. Sewn into the front in large cursive letters spelled the words "Pretty Boy". Lucifer turned around and faced you again, lifting his hand to grab his newly embellished neck. "It suits you, my pretty boy," you cooed, palming his cheek and gently rubbing your thumb against his soft skin. You could make out the tiniest of tears forming in your lover's eyes as he leaned into your touch.

"Are you ready?," you asked sweetly.

"Yes," he whispered against your hand.

"We're going to take our time, alright?," you soothed. "If at any time you want to stop, tell me and we'll be done, no questions asked. You promise?"

"I promise," he smiled.

"That's my good boy," you approved. "How do you want to do this; on your back or on your hands and knees? Whatever you want."

Lucifer swallowed hard. "B-Back, please. Wanna see you."

"I was hoping you'd say that" you chuckled. "Lay down for me."

Lucifer quickly crawled back onto the bed and laid down flat on his back, his legs dangling over the edge. You grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and placed it underneath his head, doing your best to make him as comfortable as possible. You walked around to where his legs hung, grabbing the bottle of lube and placing some on your first two fingers. "Legs up," you told him, and he complied immediately. His ankles now rested on either of your shoulders as he looked at you with the neediest expression you've ever seen from him.

"Let's warm you up, love," you hummed, "just relax for me, okay?" Lucifer shut his eyes and took a few deep breaths in and out as you shifted the fabric out of the way from his entrance. It also wasn't lost on you that his cock had been straining against his clothes this whole time, you planned on giving it some much needed attention. Slowly, you placed your first finger against his hole, feeling his body jolt from the sensation.

"I'm alright!," Lucifer nearly shouted, making sure you didn't pull away from him, "just...surprised me is all! Please don't stop."

With a smile, you pushed your index finger inside of him, feeling the tightness squeezing around you. Lucifer bit his lip and released a guttural moan. You set a slow pace as you thrusted your finger in and out of him, feeling his muscles relaxing with every movement.

"M-more, please more," Lucifer babbled. It was impossible to ignore his pleading, so you complied by inserting your second finger into him, picking up your movements slightly. "Ssshhhiiitt..." you heard Lucifer curse as you separated your fingers inside of him, stretching him further. You stretched and pushed your fingers inside as far as you could; Lucifer was already becoming an incoherent mess. After a minute or two of your continued ministrations, you finally removed your fingers from him, causing Lucifer to whimper desperately.

"You're doing so well for me, baby," you praised. You took the bottle of lube once more and applied a generous amount to the strap. You lined up the tip up against his entrance, hearing Lucifer's breath hitch. "Ready, Luci?"

"Yes, please," he whispered almost inaudibly.

You pushed the tip into him as slowly as you could, stopping only halfway when you heard Lucifer nearly scream.

"Do you need me to stop?," you asked anxiously.

"No, no! It's...it's alright," he heaved, "j-just give me a minute, please. It burns somewhat, I kind of forgot about that part." You stayed motionless for about 30 seconds before you heard Lucifer give you the okay to start moving again. You shifted your hips to pull out of him and began to slowly sink back into him. Lucifer clawed at the sheets beneath him, overwhelmed by the sensations you were giving him. After only a few more seconds, you had sheathed yourself inside of him as far as you could go. The noises Lucifer was making sent shivers straight down your spine; you wanted more.

"F-fuck..." Lucifer choked out, "Please...please move...n-need it...need you..." He was barely able to form a complete sentence anymore. Not wanting to deny him any longer, you started thrusting your strap in and out of him at a steady pace. The slapping of your skin against his echoed throughout the room, mixing with Lucifer's moans of pure ecstasy. Lucifer arched his back as each of your thrusts brushed against his prostrate. You reached down and pushed more of the fabric away, finally freeing his aching cock that was already leaking an excess amount of precum. You began to stoke him in tandem with your thrusts. Lucifer's eyes shot open from this new sensation he could feel all throughout his entire body, letting out a scream of pleasure.

Lucifer stared back at you as you continued to pound into him. You saw the tears welling up in his eyes, a smile of pure joy spread across his face. It was a feeling of pure bliss; a sense of euphoria had ripped through him. His heart was full. You were and are his everything. You leaned down closer to him, and with your free hand, interlaced your fingers with his own.

“You’re taking me so well, Luci,” you cooed, quickening your thrusts. “You look so pretty, my sweet boy.”

“Hnng, c-can’t…fuckfuckfuck, so c-close, please, don’t stop…gonna-FUCK…gonna cum…” Lucifer mewled. “L-Love you…love you so much, my angel, p-please…”

Your thrusts became erratic and you felt his cock twitching in your hand, ready to burst at the seams. “Love you more, Lucifer. Cum for me, baby, it’s alright. Let it all out for me.”

With a few more sharp thrusts of your hips, his orgasm had knocked the wind of of his lungs. Strings of his hot seed burst out of him, ruining his lovely outfit and spilling over your hand. Your thrusts and stroking had slowed as you helped him ride out his high. Lucifer was left a breathless mess beneath you. You hummed as you licked your hand clean of Lucifer’s mess, savoring its taste. You inched your way out of him gently, locking your hands around his ankles and letting his legs sway freely off the bed once again. After stepping out of the strap, you went and picked up the towel you had left on the floor over by the vanity. You patted down on Lucifer's stomach, wiping away the remains of his orgasm. Crawling up beside him, you outstretched your arms and brought him flush against your chest.

"You did so well, Luci," you murmured against his ear, "are you alright? Do you need anything?"

Lucifer shifted himself so he could face you. His eyes seemed to shimmer when he looked into yours, his expression was soft and serene. "All I'll ever need is you, my dear. Thank you...for this. For everything. I love you...more than anything."

You leaned into each other, your lips crashing together as if it would be the last time. But you knew it wouldn't. You'd always be there for him, just as he would for you. You pulled away and brushed his fallen hair away from his face.

"I guess we missed our reservation," you joked.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm absolutely famished," Lucifer laughed. "I should probably go change again, huh?"

"Yes, go get your suit!" Before he could sit up, you wrapped your hands around the back of his neck, placing his forehead against your own. "But leave the lingerie on underneath. I'm going to want dessert after our meal."

~~~~