Through the Walls
A/N: So sorry about the radio silence!! But I'm going to double post to try and make up for the long break so those that are interested in where this little blurb goes can still enjoy my ramblings! Thank you dearies!
**Just a reminder that I'm moving from my other account (bunni3thebard) to this one, so that I can have more independence from my random trash account that's just an amalgamation of memes I enjoy lol–also, I can't remember who made the page break bats, so if you may know send me their name and I can at them accordingly. I just saved it on my phone one day cause I thought it was neat!**
Title: Through the Walls
Vampire!Eddie Munson x Female!Reader
Summary: You’ve been in Hawkins for almost a year now. It was nice, an escape from painful memories and a way to start fresh. After so long isolating yourself, you decide that it’s time to make friends, get to know someone so you’re not so alone. One of those friends happened to be your Cryptid Neighbor.
Chapter 1: Silent Scream
[Masterlist] [Chapter 2]
Your neighbor was a cryptid.
At least, you were convinced they were.
You knew someone lived there because of the lights that would come on and off, and the shadow figures moving behind the curtains. Not to mention that the walls were thin as fuck, so you heard them watch TV and play guitar and listen to metal music obscenely loud during the midnight hours.
But even though they kept the same crazy hours you did, you've never seen hide nor hair of them.
You started to make theories about what kind of person they were. Like that they were a burn out whose parents paid for everything for them so they didn't work, just farted around all day–hence the 4am jam sessions.
Another theory that had struck you one night while working a double at the Hawkins ER was that they were a drug lord and had to keep odd hours to evade the police.
But you wrote off that theory since you'd thought it up while sleep deprived after an 18 hour shift.
You entertained the idea of a squatter, but then why would they have electricity?
You had finally come to the conclusion that you were lonely as fuck and you obsessed over the identity of your mysterious neighbor because you were long deprived of human companionship and thus you hyperfixated on a superficial meaningless thing to distract yourself from being alone.
Or maybe they were Mothman…
Thankfully the grocery store kept late hours on the weekend, and that's where you found yourself on your free Saturday night. You'd woken up naturally around seven pm, even though your alarm was set for nine, and decided to putter around your house until your alarm went off so you could feel like you were properly lazy.
You sat contemplating cereals for a few meandering seconds, sure your eyes were blinking at an astronomically slow pace. You'd smoked a bowl to help you sleep and felt like it hadn't completely left you. You just hoped your eyes weren't red.
Grunting, you shoved both boxes into your cart and turned to move on to the next aisle when you crashed into someone else's cart. "Shit." You hissed below your breath, rubbing your stomach where the handle of the cart had roughly jabbed into you.
"Damn, sorry about that!"
Looking up you met the soft face of a brunette woman who looked about your age with her hair pulled back into a messy bun and long-sleeve black shirt falling off one of her thin shoulders exposing her bra strap. She gave you a sheepish smile and you shrugged.
"No harm no foul, although if you do it again I'll take it personally and make no bones about it: I will cry." She snorted, making you grin in triumph.
"Don't worry. I don't make it a habit of accosting people in the grocery store." She pulled her cart back from yours.
You hummed, "Good to know I'll be a one-and-done hit-and-run."
Her smile was cute. She had a strong jaw with a petite nose that scrunched up adorably as she grinned.
"I'm Nancy." She'd offered her hand.
You hesitated.
It had been a while since you'd earnestly interacted with someone outside of transactional exchanges, like for work or buying things or paying bills. People were messy. Maybe it was the paranoia from your past–trauma you couldn't shake that clung to you like a second skin–but you'd been wary of making friends on the off chance your name gets around and spreads to corners of places you didn't want it to go.
It was ridiculous. Narcissistic in a way.
So you ground your teeth and mustered a smile hoping it looked genuine and shook her hand.
You stood outside staring at the moon for a while dressed in nothing but a size 8XL shirt you snagged from Wal-Mart cause it was soft. You knew you should smoke inside, no telling when someone might rat you out to the cops, but the moon was full and the stars were bright. You weren't used to how clear the sky was in comparison to the city, even after a year.
Your eyelids fluttered, vision hazy as the weed worked its magic.
Nancy had invited you to some neighborhood get-together next week that was popular in Hawkins. Said she hadn't seen you around before and was surprised you'd survived a year without becoming the talk of the town. You blew out a heavy stream of smoke, humming to yourself thoughtfully.
But that had been the point, right?
Keep a low profile, stay hidden.
Sighing, you took another deep drag of your joint, holding the burning breath as tight as you could. You watched the stars dance in your vision before you finally exhaled.
God you were fucking lonely, though.
You scrubbed at your head, mussing up your hair. Curiosity was easy to take hold in your high state, so you peered towards your neighbors apartment and saw a shadow in front of the curtains. You squinted, eyeing the light blue fabric for a while since your vision was blurry. You could've sworn you saw a sliver of it be pulled aside with tentative fingers. You blinked slowly, sighing heavy through your nose and mumbled to yourself, "Fucking bigfoot in there for sure."
Turning back around to your apartment door you sucked in the last bit of the joint and dropped the roach to the ground, bending over to squish it with a rock to make sure it was out. Standing with a groan, you walked barefoot back to your front door. You were like, 90% sure the complex was just repurposed from an old Motel 6, but it was cheap and they sprayed for bugs every Tuesday, so you didn't complain.
It was small, enough space for your bed with a loveseat to watch your shitty TV that sat on top of your dresser and a micro kitchen they built in the corner next to the door for the bathroom. There was no kitchen sink and the fridge was half-size, but you were one person so you didn't quite care enough to complain. You did wish the fridge drawers were a bit bigger so they didn't catch on all the food packages you shoved in there.
Maybe it was because you were high, or lonely–or maybe a combination of the two–but you slid your hand across the wall that connected your apartment to your cryptid neighbor's. Then you tapped the starting notes for "Shave and a Haircut". You waited a breath, not sure if they had even heard it.
But then there it was: "Two Bits".
You grinned, giggling like Scooby Doo as you danced over to your bed, throwing yourself down with a bounce on the cheap twin.
Since you had smoked, sleep came easy. You were lulled into dream after weird dream courtesy of Miss Mary Jane. There was one where you went grocery shopping with Bigfoot and another where you went on Jerry Springer because you were pregnant with Mothman's baby.
You were curious what kind of cryptid your neighbor was.
The neighborhood block party was, for all intents and purposes, a Hawkins bash.
Apparently it was a pretty regular affair every few months: a potluck with a few dad's who wheeled their grills to the end of a large cul-de-sac to cook up some burgers and dogs, some artsy fartsy mom's who made crafts for the younger kids to do, and sparklers and poppers for the older kids to get into mischief with.
There were maybe fifteen to twenty adults and a smattering of an equal number of kids.
You had brought a shitty box of cookies from a bakery a few blocks away from the hospital since you couldn't cook anything on your extra small stove. You also had switched shifts with Beverly–fucking ray of sunshine she was, grunting and groaning about working on a Saturday night, but you had taken her Sunday so she could get bent–so that you could be here, at this lovely affair.
You were starting to have regrets.
You watched a few pre-teens wave sparklers around in glee, making to poke and prod one another with the burning end. You wondered if you should step in, knowing that there were some second degree burns waiting to happen, but a random mom came over and grabbed each kid's wrists in warning. You slunk away to the food table.
You set your meager contribution down and turned to eye all the adult women, trying to find your potential petite new friend.
They all had their hair done up in that style where their bangs spiraled out in delicate feathering with the ends curled towards their shoulders. Some had simple ponytails decorated with hair bands and colorful scrunchies. You ran your fingers through your hair self-consciously; you hadn't done anything, merely brushed it and hoped for the best as you donned your nicest pair of jeans and a thrifted Van Halen '79 tour shirt. You figured since it would be outside the party would be a casual thing, but the dresses and blouses these housewives wore made you think you were a little unprepared for the mandatory 'Sunday Best' dress code.
You fiddled with the ends of your shirt.
You contributed to the sacrificial neighborhood potluck, maybe the Gods will be pleased enough to let you leave without seeing Nancy.
You turned to make a break for it and nearly bowled over the brunette in question.
Cookies were not a good enough sacrifice.
Her smile was bright and her blue eyes lit up at seeing you. "Hey, you made it!" She went in to hug you and you tensed, locking your arms to your side in the world's most awkward exchange of physical affection.
She gave a nervous smile and pulled away, "Sorry, too soon for hugs?" Her chuckle was used to try and break the tension and you were grateful as you laughed along.
"No, it's just–I uh… haven't really hung out with anyone for a while, so I guess I'm just getting back into the swing of how friendship works." You shrugged, rubbing the back of your neck.
Her eyes sparkled at your admission of seeing her as a potential friend. She grabbed your hand and pulled you over to a small group that hung around the edges of the block party.
The first one you noticed was a taller Hispanic man with the most beautiful hair you had ever seen in your life. It was lustrous and hung past his hips, swaying gently with his movements. He smiled, eyes half-lidded but sweet, giving you a gentle nod as Nancy motioned to the group, giving your name.
"This is Argyle," she pointed at the man with the incredible hair.
"Robin," next was a thin, lanky woman with messy dirty blonde hair that hung a little past her chin. She had a dusting of freckles across her nose and a charming crooked smile. She wiggled her fingers in a sweet hello.
"Steve," the man next to Robin was broad-shouldered with a just as square jaw line. His eyes were slightly turned down at the ends, giving him this sweet puppy-dog stare matched with a megawatt smile. He had some random freckles and moles that decorated across his face and the visible areas of his arms that made him look a lot younger. He nodded to you, giving a weird wink that you were sure was supposed to come off as charming, but was mildly unsettling.
"And my husband, Jonathan!" The last guy had a small upturned nose with a low brow that was covered by messy strands of mousy brown hair. He gave a shy smile, nodding to you while bouncing lightly. Over his shoulders he had a baby vest strapped to him and a very crabby looking baby facing outwards. Their face was scrunched up, looking more like a potato than a child, and they had wispy brown hair that was stuck up wildly like their head had been rubbed with a balloon.
Nancy smiled proudly, tickling the cheek of the child that gave a low, annoyed hum for an impressively long amount of time. "And this is Eliza, my daughter."
You gave a pinched smile, waving awkwardly. "Hey."
"'Sup Brosephina," Argyle smiled, offering you his fist. You chuckled, tapping yours against it lightly. "A pleasure to aquaint with you." He stuck his hand back in his pocket, the other holding the neck of a Pabst.
"An enjoyable aquaint with you as well." You rocked awkwardly onto your heels.
Argyle's smile grew and he nodded, "Right on." He laughed.
"Hi," you looked over to Steve who held out his large hand in greeting. You shook it, noting that he was gentle when shaking yours, but gave a squeeze before he released you. His smile was adorable, but he was definitely trying to flirt. You were curious if it was just an unconscious thing, or if he was actually putting in effort. "Nice to meet you."
You gave a soft nod in reply, but before you could fully pull your hand away, Robin shot forward and grabbed it giving you a few firm shakes, "It's really good to meet you, I think I actually saw you a while ago–my girlfriend's daughter broke her arm and I remember you gave us all strawberry Jell-O before we left."
Your eyes widened and you pointed at her with your other hand, "Oh yeah! Dotty! She was freaking adorable. How's her arm?"
Robin's smile was glowing and she squeezed your hand tightly, "She's good, her whole class signed her cast and when she got it off she begged to keep it even though it smelled like old shoes."
You barked out a laugh, unknowingly squeezing Robin's hand back, "Hell yes, that's awesome. A trophy of her triumphs! I recommend a pantyhose sock full of cat litter, it helps a ton with the shoe stink."
Robin's eyes widened and she gave a dramatic gasp, "That's freaking brilliant, oh my god, thank you!"
Jonathan snickered, "You got chronic stinky feet?" He teased, eyes glimmering as he bounced his daughter.
You smirked, dropping Robin's hand and leaning into your hip, "Maybe, or maybe I've learned a thing or two from working with older nurses. But I could also have insanely stinky feet, and now you know my shame."
Everyone laughed and you felt your smile grow, your shoulders relax, and you let yourself feel like you belonged.
You didn't feel so alone anymore.
The block party ended up not being bad. Although, a guy named Andy Barker had tried to hit on you when you went to grab a hot dog ("You like 'em long and juicy, huh"–barf) even though his wife was within eyesight. Nancy had warned you that they often did that: flirt with other people in front of each other to get their partner jealous.
It was absolutely insane, small towners were bonkers.
You had snagged a bag full of cookies for the road, not including those from the bakery you had gone to as they were a little rubbery and sad. Argyle gave you a high five.
"Choice snack Brochacha, need a muchie master to inspire your partaking in said chocolate chunks?" You blinked a few times, unsure of what in the hell he was trying to say.
Jonathan snickered, leaning over to translate, "Do you want some weed with that?"
Needless to say: Argyle was your favorite.
Pocket a little heavier with two freshly rolled "Blunts of Friendship", as Argyle called them, and a couple of sandwich bags full of pilfered cookies, you walked up to your door with a smile.
You had made friends.
It was nice, this feeling. You hadn't been able to know companionship, even platonic ones, in such a long time it was like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. Maybe not all the weight, but it was lighter and it felt good to breathe with a little less paranoia pushing you down.
You jiggled the keys into your lock but stopped, turning ever so slightly to look at your neighbor's door. It was a gawdy yellow with a plaquard of gold painted numbers reading "2D" decorating it. The paint on the numbers and the door was chipped in places and faded from natural weathering. You didn't see any shadows in the window and the light wasn't on. It wasn't surprising since the sun was still, technically, out.
It was sunset, the sky lit up by a golden-amber glow that slowly sunk into the royal purple of the evening as it met the horizon. Night would fall soon.
You weren't sure what compelled you, maybe the giddy feeling that came from making new friends, or from having a really good day, but you strolled over to the door and stared at it, feet placed only a few inches away. Looking down at the bags in your hand, you placed one of them against the wall next to the door and sighed.
Nerves were starting to eat at you and you looked at your apartment door that was about ten feet away, then back to 2D's. Sucking in a deep breath for strength, you gathered your bravery and knocked on the door three times before booking it to your door: 2C.
Slamming your door behind you, you kept the lights off and took deep gulping breaths. That was the fastest you'd ever run in your life, you're sure of it.
You slunk to the floor, splaying your legs out in front of you as you caught your breath, thumping your head back against the wood of your own gawdy yellow door. You shut your eyes.
You don't know why in the fuck you decided to dong-dong-ditch some cookies for your cryptid neighbor.
Maybe it was because you had developed a weird relationship with them in your head: mysterious being that occupies the shitty motel-esque apartment next to you that may know your struggles because they keep the same weird hours you do. You had put too much thought into them and they became a being you considered a friend in the fantasy of your mind.
You wanted to include them in the block party.
You had sat there for a good ten minutes, breath caught, and you didn't quite know what to do with yourself now. You didn't want to go to sleep–no matter how fucking tired you were from staying awake during the day–but you were at an impasse of not knowing where to go or what to do.
And that's when you heard it.
"Shave And A Hair Cut".
The smile that spread across your face pushed the apples of your cheeks up so high you could see the tops of them in your vision. You laughed softly, bringing your hand up to the wall and replying.
"Two Bits".
[NEXT CHAPTER]
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LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.
Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.
Genre: Angst and hurt; somewhat fluffy (but only for a brief while).
Warnings: Swearing. Unhealthy relationship/coping mechanisms (?).
Word count: 2.2k+
Lucifer had been courting you for a couple of months already, the King of Hell finally deciding it was time to make the two of you official. The tension was so incredibly thick, that even the hotel’s patrons were growing sick of having to watch the two of you dance aimlessly around each other. Charlie included.
The past couple of months were more than delightful – Lucifer treated you like a Queen, taking you out almost every other night, having nice candle-lit dinners, and dancing the night away. And if you weren’t really feeling the glamour, the both of you would stay cuddled up against one another whilst watching some cliche rom-com. It was like a dream. It was perfect…well, almost.
The very source of your concerns was the golden band that remained in Lucifer’s ring-finger.
You knew about the heart-break and torment that Lucifer underwent following his separation with Lilith. Understandably, having been together for many decades and centuries, the King had a difficult time trying to move on. Even in the earlier stages of your relationship, when he had been comfortable confiding in you, it was evident that he still deeply cared for Lilith, despite her absence.
You tried to be understanding – you really, really did. But every time you held his hand, the cold metal feeling against your fingers set a painful reminder that maybe he still hasn’t moved on completely.
It filled you to the brim with self-doubt. Perhaps he was just keeping you around just to fill in the void she had left. And if that were the case, were you even doing a good enough job in that? Hypothetically, if Lilith were to waltz in front of the hotel’s doors one day, was he going to throw you off to the side and run away with her? What if he’d grow bored of you all of a sudden?
Questions such as these would linger at the back of your head constantly, and as they did, you would cast a longing gaze in his direction. When he catches your eye, he would automatically send a smile your way, pearly-whites in full display. It would make you smile without fail, because how could it not? You loved that dashing smile of his. But everyday, you wondered if you could continue to maintain that smile in your life.
One night in particular, during dinner at one of Hell’s finest establishments, Lucifer noticed that something was off. Your smile hasn’t been reaching your eyes, and you seemed like you were anywhere but here. Your eyes had a distant look to them and whenever he’d ask if something was wrong, you would become dismissive. It concerned him a lot.
“Darling, are you alright?” Lucifer carefully asked once you both made it to the front porch of the hotel. “Was it the food? Was it not to your liking? Because the chicken was a bit off to be honest, it could’ve been a bit more seasoned–”
“Luci,” you intervened and grabbed his hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “The food was great, really. It’s just…” As your voice trailed off, you were quick to feel that damn ring around his finger. Because, of course you did, and it didn’t help your mood at all. You force out a huff and pull away, causing the demon’s frown to deepen, “I’m feeling a little under the weather tonight – probably just lacking a bit of sleep.”
Lucifer scanned your face all over, his brows furrowed in worry. “Well…I guess you have been working harder for the hotel recently.” There had been some truth in that – after all, there had been an influx of sinners in the hotel since the cancellation of this year’s extermination. But he didn’t seem to stop there, not fully convinced by your reasoning, “...But are you sure that’s all, my dear?”
You looked at him, surprised, as if suddenly caught red-handed. He was quick to pick up on that too, confirming his suspicions and making him all the more nervous.
“What are you trying to say?” You ask.
“Well, i-it’s just that I noticed that you’ve been acting a bit off recently,” he splutters. “And not only tonight. You’ve become a bit more…I don’t know, distant with me. And it worries me, y’know? I just…I really, really care about you. A lot.” He almost looks defeated as he rubs anxiously at his nape, “And if I’m being honest, it scares the absolute shit out of me that what I’m doing now isn't right."
Your brows crease in confusion, “...What are you talking about?”
Lucifer closed his eyes, dragging a palm against his face as an exaggerated groan leaves his lips. “Look, I’m not exactly experienced with all…all this – the one woman I’ve ever been in a committed relationship with left me. Just like that!” He lets out a humourless snort. “A-And I don’t know what I did to make her leave and I for sure don’t want to make that same mistake again. I…I want to be assured that I’m making you happy.”
Lucifer looks up at you, eyes filled with warmth, as he places a gentle hand against your cheek. He breaks the distance between you to press his forehead against yours. You automatically lean against him out of habit. “I don’t want to lose you. And if I’m doing something wrong, tell me. Please, don’t shut me out.” He pleads, his voice almost falling into a whisper. The unexpected confession left you speechless, your chest feeling all the more tight. It was making you feel worse than you already did.
You let out a shaky sigh, trying to keep the pending tears at bay. “Luci, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…I-I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. Trust me when I say that you’ve been nothing more than a gentleman, and every moment we’ve spent together has been magical. I appreciate you so, so much, and I could never, ever ask for anything more.”
You shut your eyes tight, shame filling your very core. “I’m just being a little silly–”
“No, no. Don’t say that, darling. Please tell me what’s going on. It’s okay,” Lucifer encourages softly, his thumb rubbing reassuringly against your cheek.
You grab his wrist and gently pull your face away from him. With the hand on his arm, you slide it down to grab at his own, bringing it up into view and in-between the both of you. Almost instantaneously, both your eyes lie on the golden band on his finger – to Lucifer, it suddenly clicks. But he couldn’t help but feel an internal conflict brew within him.
“I-I know how much that ring and Lilith means to you. I really do and I feel awful having to feel this way, but I just…I can’t help it,” you mutter, finally allowing the first couple of tears to fall, “I-I often find myself counting the days and hours when you’ll suddenly realise that I will never be good enough for you. It feels like I’m constantly having to compete with her–heck, what am I even saying? I know I’ll never be able to compete – because, I mean, come on. I'm a nobody!” You chuckle tearfully whilst gesturing to yourself with a free hand.
“And I don’t think I’ll ever understand how you’d ever settle for someone like me. I’m not nearly as important, nor am I the best-looking demon out there. I’m just me.”
“But Lucifer, whenever I’m with you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I smile more. Laugh more. I even enjoy the little things more. And I don’t want that to go away. And I’m just hoping– Satan, I’m fucking hoping that it’s the same for you. And if it is, then how long is that going to last with me?”
Completely shocked, Lucifer watched in silence as his love sobbed their heart out in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to go and wrap you in his warm embrace, and whisper reassurances and hush down your cries. Because, you were right – you did make him happy. So unbelievably happy. You had been the light that casted away the shadows in his darkest times. And yet, why? Why did he remain where he stood, unmoving as tears pathetically poured from his eyes? Why wasn’t he saying anything?
There was a brief, stagnant moment of contemplation where the both of you just stood there. It was the realisation that Lucifer didn’t make any effort to formulate some form of response, that disappointed you even further. It only made the doubtful voice in your head louder.
It was you who ultimately decided to make the first move, wiping tiredly at your reddened face as you glanced at the hotel’s door. “I’ll be heading off first. I’ll be in the guest room tonight – it’s been a long day,” you raspily say, hiccuping as you pushed through the doors and disappeared into the hotel, leaving Lucifer alone outside.
As you entered the hotel, you immediately noticed Husk’s presence by the bar, who had been polishing some glasses by the counter. In front of him was Angel, who was making some sweet, small talk with him. They were both alerted by your entrance as the doors flew open, and as Angel was about to greet you in his usual playful fashion, his voice fell flat when he saw the depressed state you were in.
“Woah, there. What the hell happened to you? You look like shit,” Angel asked, standing to meet you half-way, “I thought you and Short-King were out on a date. Did something happen?”
“We were but we had a fight or something,” you tiredly shrugged as you walked past the arachnid and plopped yourself down on one of the bar stools. You swirled yourself on the seat to face Husk. “Give me the strongest shit you have. And make it double,” you waved absently at the feline-demon, who raised an incredulous brow at your bluntness. “Damn, it must be that serious considering you don’t even drink,” he grumbles as he turns to start brewing a glass of something, “...do you wanna talk about it?"
You contemplated his offer for a second and realised that you did. For the next five or so minutes, you ended up recounting everything that happened earlier tonight, all the while shedding even more tears. Angel was kind enough to supply you with a mountain of tissues to cry into.
“Well, it sounds to me that your man’s got a whole lot of thinking to do,” Husk clicks his tongue. “But what you’re feeling is completely valid.” “Yeah, who the fuck wears their ol’ wedding ring while dating someone else? What an asshole,” Angel hisses.
“S-So you guys think there’s a possibility that he might consider ending things with me?” You question dejectedly. Husk and Angel share a look of uncertainty, suddenly feeling the need to be careful of their words. Because they genuinely weren’t sure.
“I–Look, that’s not something we should be focusing on at the moment– I mean, of course, let’s hope that that’s not where this is going. I just think he needs some space to think things through properly,” Husk says.
“And I know I was talking a whole lot of shit before but let’s take the benefit of the doubt and look at things from his point of view. He was in that boat for more than a couple thousand years. And shit, that’s a lot of fucking years.” Angel points out. “It might take him a while longer to adjust to that, y’know?” Angel places a hand on your shoulder, grinning at you reassuringly, “But there’s one thing for sure that myself and everyone else knows: the guy loves yah, toots. Anyone with eyes can see it, and you guys are really fucking disgusting about it too–ow!”
Angel suddenly lunges forward against the counter as one of Husk’s wings swipes down to slap the back of his head. “‘The fuck was that for?! It’s true, ain’t it?!” Husk rolled his eyes at his dramatics, before turning back to you. “He’s right, though. Just…just give him a bit more time. I’m sure in the end, the both of you will be fine.”
Meanwhile, Lucifer decided to head back to his own castle, wanting to be alone to sort through his cluttered thoughts. He was beyond upset with himself for making you cry like that, because it was the last thing he wanted. But he was more upset at the fact that he didn’t know how to navigate through his emotions, despising that he found himself second guessing his feelings.
As you explicitly implied, was he really still unconsciously longing for Lilith? Was that why he kept wearing his ring? Why was he still wearing it? Was it just for his own comfort? But why would he need it anyways? You were there, weren’t you? All he had said to you tonight, he was contradicting himself, wasn’t he? Perhaps he’s scared. Maybe he isn’t ready yet. But, why would he be with you if he didn’t think so? What exactly were you to him? And what exactly was Lilith to him now?
Lucifer was a complete mess, and that night he couldn’t find a single blink of sleep as these thoughts plagued him. And neither could you, as you scrutinised every aspect of your relationship, thinking of what this could mean for the both of you, moving forward.
Yeah…perhaps you both needed some time.
Chapter II [x]
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happy father’s day ♡
“happy father’s day.” you purr, turning your face to meet the man behind you.
you grind your clad pussy subtly against the man’s buldge, making him groan.
“whaddya mean , hm ? we don’t got kids, doll.” toji grumbles against your neck, hand coming up under your shirt to grope at your warm tit.
“s’because you’re my daddy.”
he chuckles, warm breath spreading across your skin, sending a shiver down your back.
“is that right?” he whispers, hand now trailing lower and lower, fondling your soft tummy. he reciprocates your neediness, rolling his hips back into yours following your rhythm. his beefy tip nudges against your slit slightly, causing you to jolt.
“mmf— mhm .”
“y’gonna give y’r daddy a blowjob then?”
“you’re so gross, toji.” you giggle.
“don’t be fussy now.” he reprimands, sitting up against the headboard before placing you in between his legs. he crosses his legs behind you, caging you in, leaving you no space to move from the position he set you in.
“make daddy feel good.”
“‘kay, daddy,” you mumble, rubbing your cheek over his clothed bulge. you press hot kisses all over his shaft, starting from his plump balls, ensuring you lick on them to work him up, leading your way up to his cock head. his slit leaves a creamy residue on the fabric of his boxers, bleeding onto the other side.
you waste no time licking and sucking on the little slit of cream through the fabric, sighing at the feeling of your hot tongue pressed against his cock head.
“shit.”
he watches you from afar, mouth so close yet so far from his dick. he really can’t stand it !
“d’you want more daddy ?”
“course, doll face. be good and put that sweet mouth to use.” he pulls down his boxers just below his fat balls before pressing your face inches away from his cock. you watch his tip drool, pre cum dripping down the underside of his shaft. you lick up a stripe, bringing your lips to suckle on the swollen head , running your tongue through the salty divot.
he lets you take your time, enjoying the show you’ve put up for him. your eyes peer up at him once in a while, glassy and full of love, to be met with his emerald ones that glow with a glint of evil. toji truly is an evil man.
“don’t make me wait now. be good f’your daddy ‘nd suck him off, yeah?” you bring your lips further down his shaft, hands coming up to jerk at the large gap of cock that your little mouth is incapable to handling itself. it damn near makes him moan, watching you try to please him to the best of your abilities. he wasn’t used to such treatment , especially when you’re used to laying below him and allowing the hunk of a man do the work. not like he minded, at all.
you continue suckling on him, hot tongue dragging along the veins of his cock. it wraps around his pudgy tip perfectly, pressing a bit of pressure on his slit making him shiver and groan.
“t-that’s enough , get off doll.”
he tugs you off by pulling at your hair, making you whine at the loss. saliva strings from your glossy lips, connecting you to the tip of his cock. you could only think about the loss of his fat load in your mouth, the creamy and salty texture painting your face in fat spurts, now all gone in a matter of seconds.
“n-no, why , daddy ? ‘s supposed to be your gift !”
you whine , a petulant pout spread across your face when he holds you tight by your scalp to prevent you from crawling back onto his dick. he smiles.
“y’only stopped me because you were gunna cum.” you bark, lips quivering at the sight of his drooly cock before you.
“yeah, so? gotta put this load to use . don’t got as much as i used to, doll.” he chuckles, flipping you below him in one quick motion. his calloused fingers come to pull your panties aside holding them in place with a fat thumb, revealing your messy cunt. you gasp , and he allows you no time to reciprocate what’s happening before he begins rubbing his messy cock head in between your folds, separating the fat lips.
“happy mother’s day , doll .”
“what’re you talking about? w-we don’t have kids.” you mock meekly with a giggle.
“oh,” he laughs.
“we’ll see about that.”
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