A/n: I'm Pretty Sure I Had This Prompt In My Inbox Ages Ago But It Got Swallowed By The Internet Void.

a/n: I'm pretty sure I had this prompt in my inbox ages ago but it got swallowed by the internet void.

➤ getting cockblocked at the HoL | azra x gn!reader

0.5k words | nsfw | oral sex

The warm, syrupy pleasure of your impending orgasm dissipates suddenly when Azra lifts his head from between your legs with a rumbling growl. Your fingers slip through his curls and you raise your head off the pillow to glance down at him. "Hey, are you—?" You're panting a little, but then you finally realize what's got him so worked up: the front door of the House of Lamentation slams shut and you hear the indistinct voices of the demon brothers returning home early from RAD. Shit.

"I'm sorry, we were supposed to have more time." You scratch your fingers lightly against his scalp in apology and his eyes flutter closed when he leans into your palm. The menacing growl softens into a purr instead. It's not that he's unwelcome here, not exactly. Sometimes it's easier if you can keep him and certain demons from crossing paths—it really ruins the mood once they start bickering.

He glances up at you and you can tell he's still a little annoyed by the interruption. "I don't care if you don't." He kisses your palm and flicks out his tongue playfully to lick the same spot. "Whatever you want, babe."

Your thighs are still slung over his shoulders and trembling slightly from the pleasure simmering in your belly. His eyes are dark and glittering with lust, and his lips are shiny from spit and slick. His thumbs trace little circles around the jut of your hip bones. He turns his head and kisses your thigh, and your restraint crumbles. "Don't stop."

He looks genuinely surprised for a moment, but the expression passes and his mouth curls into a smirk. He runs his tongue along his teeth so you can see his fangs, and you know he's doing it on purpose just to tease you. "Mm, I was hoping you'd say that."

He sits up and lowers your legs back to the mattress. His hands tighten on your hips and then the world shifts as he flips you onto your stomach. He coaxes you to your knees, and you look back over your shoulder just in time to see him lower his head. "Try and keep quiet, yeah?" he murmurs, his warm breath fanning across the swell of your ass. You exhale shakily and release a stuttered moan as his fingers spread you wide for him. "Don't want the others hearing us. All your pretty noises are mine, aren't they?"

Your face grows warm from the insinuation that you might be a little loud in bed, but then his tongue traces your hole and your body shivers. Desire courses through your veins all over again and your fingers clench the sheets to brace yourself. "Oh, fuck—!" The vibration of his chuckle ripples up your body from between your legs. You bite down onto the pillow just in time to muffle your shout as his greedy tongue snakes its way inside you.

First of all, i LOVE your Karasu au and your writing in general 😍😍

I don't know if you're taking requests, so feel free to ignore this if you aren't. That being said... How it would be the first time between MC and Karasu?? 👀👀

a/n: I don't want to spoil part five his story, but I'm happy to provide some general details about possible things to expect! his character page also has some nsfw info/drabbles to keep the thirst at bay.

➤ first time headcanons | karasu

0.5k words | x gn!reader | nsfw | suggestive and explicit content

— It's going to take place at his house. He's not comfortable being caught or overheard doing that with you at the House of Lamentation right now. He also wants to be completely open and vulnerable for you, and he needs his private space for that.

— He knows what he wants but doesn't really know how to get there. He's going to be trying to kiss you and undress you at the same time. It might be a bit clumsy because he wants to take things slow, but it's hard because he's desperate to finally touch you.

— He's going to be loud. It's canon, he is not quiet in bed. He's going to talk constantly about how much he's wanted this, how good you feel, how gorgeous you are, how hard you make him. When he can't form words anymore, he's going to be moaning and whimpering and whining from pleasure. He doesn't swear often but he loses his composure when he cums.

— You probably won't see his demon form in bed, at least not yet. It would be too overwhelming with the heightened senses and he doesn't want to accidentally hurt you. He may unfurl his wings during or after, but his full form won't manifest.

— It might be a little disappointing if you have unrealistic expectations. He can't recall the last time he had sex with someone (think a couple decades or longer) so he doesn't have the control or the stamina to make things last. He's going to be so embarrassed by it, but eventually all he can think about is finding new ways to please you. He's going to make it up to you while he recuperates so expect multiple rounds rather than one long drawn-out session.

— He might giggle if something feels ticklish, or sometimes he just feels euphoric when he cums. He might cry, too. He's a sensitive, deliriously happy mess of a demon. He hopes you'll embrace both possibilities because these are sides of him that no one else has ever seen.

— He'll be open to being pegged/fucked later, but for your first time, he wants to fuck you. If you want to get on top and ride him though, by all means. He might last longer that way too. Also, he's going to openly stare at your body as you move above him (when he's not throwing his head back against the pillow with a whine to try and hold back his release a little longer).

— The morning after might be a rare time when he actually decides to use a personal day to skip work. He will be very reluctant to leave your side for a while.

— After he walks you back to the House of Lamentation, he's going to flop down in the messy sheets and roll around in your scent. He's going to get hard thinking about you and the night before, and he's already itching for the next time you can spend the night.

You write L so wonderfully and so in character. I had a request if they’re still open: Could I request Reader (any gender) giving L his first kiss, teaching him how to kiss in the process, and L discovering that he really enjoys the sensation of kissing? I headcanon L as so mentally devoted to his work that his physical form has kind of taken a backseat, and so something like a kiss or touch from the right person can ignite in him a new understanding of himself. Thanks for reading! 💖

So, I was gonna answer this later because I have a truly astounding amount of homework to get done, but how could I keep you waiting? Anyways, I tried my best to adhere to your request, and I'm so sorry if it's disappointing, I've never really done this before. Please let me know if you want anything else written or rewritten, or literally anything. Your wish is my command. Also, thank you so much for your kind words! I am trying to write him as realistically as possible because I saw too much ooc L, and so I'm doing my best.

“Cake?” You asked, setting it down in front of him gently so as to not disturb his setup. 

“Thank you.” He responded. His eyes never left the screen as he picked up the fork and began to eat. 

He had arrived at your apartment last night and in typical L fashion, had given you little notice before knocking on your door with a briefcase of files and papers. He had turned your living room into a crime scene, and as far as you knew, hadn’t slept a wink since he had gotten here. 

You didn’t want to ask him any questions or bother him, despite how incredibly curious you were, but you did want to be sure he wasn’t wasting away under your watch. If that meant feeding him desserts every hour to ensure that something was being consumed, then so be it.

“Cake for dinner,” You said softly to the air, shaking your head as you served yourself a slice. “I’m living my childhood dreams.”

Taking a seat next to L, you very carefully pulled a blanket up to your lap. You watched him cautiously, worried that your movements might distract him.

“You are not bothering me.” He said abruptly. 

You froze “Are you sure? I can just go to my room if - “

“No, I quite enjoy your presence.” He turned to you. “And if anything, I should be the one worried about bothering you. I have completely taken over your living room with my research.”

In furious denial, you responded, “No not at all! I love having papers about - “ You pick up a paper and skim the first sentence. “ - mass murders…on my couch…”

L let out a soft chuckle, to which you gave him a smile in return. “I should be thankful that you have not yet tired of my existence.”

“How could I ever? You’re my best customer.” You gestured to the state of your messy kitchen - a result of all the baking and cooking you had done for him since he had arrived. 

He responded with a little laugh, and turned back to his screen. You admired how much he devoted himself to his work, however it worried you nonstop to see how it ate away at him, both mentally and physically. 

You didn’t pretend to understand what he did. As far as you could tell, he was a spy or detective of sorts. He never confirmed or denied your guesses, but there were certain aspects of his routine that allowed you to infer what you could.

What you were sure of, however, was that the only time he was ever able to properly relax was when he was around you. Which only made it that much more saddening that he was so immersed in his research at this moment in time.

But you said nothing. It was never your place to interfere or say anything. That was how the two of you worked.

You picked up your book from the table in front of you and began to read. It was nice, being near him and the two of you being allowed to do your respective things. In fact, the book you were reading was one he had suggested for you after you told him it had been a while since you found a good book.

So far, you were quite happy with the recommendation.

After a couple of hours of just being next to each other and occasionally exchanging words, you began to doze off. The book slipped out of your hands and your head dropped onto L’s shoulder.

For the first time in hours, he was completely taken out of his work mindset. The weight of your body slumped against his was so warm. He knew it probably would be best to let you sleep, but how was he meant to get any work done if you were right against him?

Lucky for him, you started to stir, yawning as you awoke from your brief nap. “You’re here?”

“I’ve been here since yesterday.” He replied quietly.

You quickly noticed how much of his personal space you had accidentally invaded and shot straight up. “Shit, I didn’t mean to - “

L reached over and took your hand. It was a bit of an awkward grab, but you understood he meant it to be comforting. “You do not bother me.” His words were firm. 

“Right,” You breathed out, unknowingly lacing your fingers with his. “I forgot.”

“You also seemed to forget that I was here,” He noted. “You were surprised.”

Your cheeks heated up at his observation. “I think…I’m not used to you being so present next to me. It was a bit shocking to wake up practically sleeping on you.”

He was silent for a moment, and then, “Elaborate. On the part about me being present.”

“It’s not a matter of you being physically absent, but I mean you’re always so absorbed in your work that it’s like you forget I’m here or even where and who you are. Mentally, you are on another planet almost ninety percent of the time.” You explain, embarrassed. 

This seemed to bother him. You noticed the way his grip on your hand loosened and his shoulders deflated even more. 

“I never meant to make you feel that way.”

Your heart broke at how defeated he sounded. “Not at all! I just want you to be aware that you’re allowed to relax around me. You’re under no obligations here.”

He nodded. “Then you should also know that I don’t mind you being close to me.” He looked down at where your hands were still intertwined. “I’ve come to enjoy being in contact with you.”

You laughed lightly, relieved. “Thank goodness. I could kiss you right now, you know?”

“You could.” He confirmed quickly. “It would certainly be an experience I’ve never had before.”

To that, your laughter stops. “Never? You’ve never been kissed before?”

“I think I, of all people, would know if I had been.” He said dryly. 

“Would you want me to kiss you?” You asked him, your words hushed and curious. 

He pondered it for a moment. “I would want you to, of course. I have no expectations on whether or not I will enjoy it, as I have no previous experience to form them from. However, based off of what the vast majority of the population would - “

You decided you had enough of his talking and leaned forward, pressing your lips against his and using your free hand to hold his face gently as you did. 

By kissing standards, it was not perfect. It was soft and awkward, but to you it was pure bliss. And as you pulled away and saw the gratified look in his eyes, it was fairly evident he felt similarly.

“How was that?” You asked teasingly.

“I’m not sure,” He replied. “I think you should do it again, for me to provide you with a satisfactory answer.”

You let out a laugh and leaned against him. “To be entirely honest with you, I haven’t kissed many people before.”

“In comparison to them, how did I do?” 

“Well, that was just a basic kiss.” You explained. “If you really want to be memorable, you should try a little harder.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “And how should I do that?”

You gave him a sly smile and moved until his back was pressed against the couch cushions and you were positioned slightly above him, your legs on either side of his lap. 

“Just open your mouth…” And like the obedient boyfriend he was, he did. “...lean forward…” Your lips met his again and you pulled him in closer; so close that you could feel his heart pounding against your chest.

The two of you quickly fell into a rhythm, and for someone who claimed to have never been kissed before, he was oddly passionate.

Breathless, you pulled away and beamed at him. “I would say that was pretty good. You?”

“If I wished to rank it, I would have to kiss other people to properly make a comparison.” You met his eyes, a teasing spark illuminated within them.

You scrunched up your nose. “Don’t joke. You are horribly unfunny.”

“Your lies do not concern me.” He placed a small kiss on the tip of your nose, much to your surprise. 

“It appears you like being kissed then?” 

“If it’s by you, then yes.” He sighed, a mixture of content and sadness. “I apologize for making you feel so unwanted around me while I work. I truly appreciate your presence and your efforts to distract me.”

You nodded acceptingly. “Well, do they at least work?”

L smiled. “They do.”

With a little exhale of relief, you rested your body against his and closed your eyes. “Anyways, you’re pretty good at that whole kissing thing. Maybe we can make it a habit.”

He squeezed your hand lightly. “I would like that.”

Because there was something so satisfying about kissing you, or even touching you, that made him only crave it more. L, whose mind was forever restless, had come to a complete halt the moment your lips had touched his. 

It appeared that the only tried and true thing that could ever relax him and bring him out of an overworked state of mind, was being with you. 

It was selfish. So incredibly selfish of him. To be with you, knowing the dangers, knowing the consequences, all because it made him feel good.

But he couldn’t help it. Not if it meant the possibility of kissing you again. And so he solidified this resolve in his mind that he wanted you, and only ever you. He knew there could be nothing good to come of this in the long run, but for now, you were both content in each other’s company.

L never stopped thinking about this moment. It might have been one of the only ones where he could truly say he was happy. 

your little flower stall is strategically set up a few feet from one of the trendiest restaurants in this area of tokyo. 

it’s a smart spot, one that men like reo can appreciate when he’s already ten minutes late for his date. he’d quite literally just left work, a last minute meeting having forced him to get ready in the back of his car in his haste to arrive somewhat on time. his shirt is untucked and his pants are wrinkled from being left in the trunk for so long.

he winces when he catches his reflection in a window, running a hand through his unkempt hair in a poor attempt to fix it. he definitely can’t show up empty handed when he’s late and looking like this. 

“good evening,” he greets, a little breathless as he approaches your stall. his eyes scan the bouquets available, looking for any safe picks and frowning when he realizes you’re out of roses. so he shrugs and picks up whatever’s closest. some kind of yellow flower.

“yellow carnations?” you murmur as he digs into his pocket for his wallet, prompting him to glance up at you. “an odd choice.”

“how do you mean?”

“it’s an unusual choice for a date, is all.” 

he raises his brows. “how do you know they’re for a date?”

“oh, come on,” you grin, leaning against the counter. “a handsome guy like you doesn’t have someone to buy flowers for?”

he knows it’s probably just a marketing pitch, but his ego swells nonetheless. “handsome, huh?” 

you simply shrug - tease - and place the carnations back into their bucket to grab a different bouquet. you cut a strip of white ribbon from its spool, winding it around the stems. “go with these instead. if your date knows anything about flowers, these will definitely get you laid.”

reo actually laughs at that, as he strongly doubts the wannabe influencer he’d been set up with knows much about the meanings of flowers, but he’ll take your word for it. he hands you his card, not-so-secretly hoping that you’d caught a glimpse of his name on its surface before you swiped it through your machine.

when you return it to him, he pulls a handful of bills out of his wallet and stuffs them into your tip jar.

“oh,” you start. “that’s too much–” 

he flashes you a smile that’s been called ‘swoon-worthy’ before, waving you off as he tucks his wallet back into his pocket. “don’t worry about it! you’re saving my life here.” 

“your sex life, you mean?” you quip, but your eyes sparkle at his praise as you hand him the bouquet. “well, thank you for your patronage, sir.” 

he quickly dips his head in thanks, a little reluctant as he heads towards the restaurant. 

_____

monday mornings aren’t especially busy for you, as bleary eyed office workers don’t have much need for flowers. 

which is why you’re surprised when the man from last friday starts approaching your stall, holding a cup of what you assume must be coffee. he doesn’t quite look like you remember, from the impeccable cut of his suit to the way his hair is neatly pulled back. he’s even wearing aviators that you’re sure would look ridiculous on anyone else, but for some reason make him look like a movie star. 

he pulls them off with his free hand and hangs them off the pocket of his bag, waving at you like you’re old friends. he looks so earnest and excited that you can’t do much else than blush and raise your hand in response. 

“morning,” he greets once you’re close enough to hear. “this is for you. for last friday. i wasn’t sure what you’d like so i just got their special.” 

he holds out the cup, whose logo you now recognize from the overpriced cafe down the street. you take it, smiling. “i take it your date went well then?”

he tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers, shrugging. “sure.” 

“did you come to buy her more flowers?”

“ah…i don’t think i’ll see her again.” 

you perk up at that. just a little. “oh?” 

“yeah,” he sighs, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “i, uh, kinda wanna see where things go with someone else.” 

oh, of course there’s someone else. a guy like him probably never has a shortage of options. (and who are you not to capitalise on that?) “maybe some flowers will help.” 

you think there’s something mischievous in his smile. “definitely. what do you recommend?”

_____

reo is running out of places to put his flowers. 

they’re all over his office. they line the entirety of his windowsill and take over the free space on his desk. a small clump of white daisies in an old coffee mug. a single rose in his pen cup. his assistant has to crane her head around a vase of lilies to deliver her reports at the end of each day. 

what can he say? you’re one hell of a salesperson. if anyone had asked him what his favourite flower was before, he’d have no idea what to tell them. in truth, he’d never given much thought to something so impermanent as flowers.  

but you easily become a permanent part of his routine. each day he stops at your stall, utilising the information he’d gathered from the internet just moments before to impress you with an educated floral choice. 

you always smile when you hand him the bouquet, and he wonders how your product isn’t sold out at the end of each day, with a smile as enamouring as yours. 

when his office is overrun by floral accents, he starts bringing them home instead. his neighbours gush about what a great boyfriend he is each time they catch him returning with a new arrangement. they say that whoever he’s coming home to must be a ‘very special someone.’

they don’t know that it’s just nagi, who barely looks up from whatever game he’s playing but comments mildly that he didn’t think reo was a flower guy. 

“everyone’s a flower guy,” he’d quipped as he unwrapped the brand new vase he’d bought to accompany the bouquet of peonies and anemones you’d given him. 

and if nagi noticed he’d come home blushing the day you called him your most important customer, he didn’t say anything.

_____

“hey,” he asks on a particularly slow sunday afternoon. you’re in the process of wrapping - by his request - a bundle of lilacs, which happen to be your favourite flower. “come to lunch with me. i can get us a table—” he points to the restaurant behind you. “—there.” 

you don’t answer right away, allowing yourself a moment to make sure you’ve heard him right. “what would your girlfriend think?”

he looks confused as you hold the lilacs out to him. “girlfriend?”

“yeah…isn’t she the one you’ve been buying all these flowers for?”

he blinks a few times before hanging his head with a chuckle. “no i— i don’t have a girlfriend.”

he doesn’t have a girlfriend. so that would mean…

“you’re asking me out,” you realize, averting your gaze to the counter with all the awkwardness of a kid receiving their first valentine. “i’d love to, but i can’t just close—”

“what would you make in a day?” he blurts. “ideally.” 

“well, ideally i’d be sold out—”

he flips his wallet open and hands you his card. “i’ll take everything then.”

“everything?” you echo. 

he shrugs, shooting you a wink. “what can i say? i’m a flower guy.”

“reo,” you laugh, pushing his card back towards him. “i’m not going to let you pay me to go out with you. just go grab some takeout and come back here. a pretty face like yours is bound to sell.” 

“you’re whoring me out for business?” 

“i’m just being entrepreneurial,” you counter. 

he crosses his arms over his chest, a handsome grin on his face. “alright, but i’ll need to be compensated for my efforts. maybe even with a kiss…”

you roll your eyes (albeit with a smile) as you point at the restaurant. “at least buy me lunch first.”

you started dating kita shinsuke your second year of high school.

you met him at the beginning of the school year when you asked him for help with your math homework. he happily obliged, and by the end of it he had earned your phone number.

the next few weeks were filled with late nights texting each other, talking about nothing at all. you learned his favorite color, and you told him about your favorite songs. he asked you to be his girlfriend a month after.

that was eight years ago. red is still his favorite color, and he still has your favorite songs on his playlist.

the first two years of your relationship was filled with tests, study sessions under his grandma’s blossom tree, and many volleyball matches. you never missed a game, not even the far away ones. always in the crowd to cheer him on while he gave you a small smile, ears red and cheeks pink.

kita picked you up for your first date in a old farm truck. you heard him coming yards away as the engine hummed through the neighborhood. the paint chipped and exhaust sputtering as he parked in the driveway, palms a little sweaty as he fixed his hair in the rear view. he about jumped out of his skin when he saw that you were already at his door. he still drives that truck, using it for chores and deliveries, but you’ll never say no to a ride when he asks.

that same truck got the two of you into trouble. the sound alone made it almost impossible to stay out late, cutting sneaky last minute kisses on your front porch short. one particular night, you had begged your mom to let you stay out late, to which she agreed as long as you were home by midnight. at 11:59, in a fit of giggles, the two of you came racing into the driveway.

kita pulled you in for a kiss, only to be illuminated by the the kitchen light flicking on. you jumped out of the truck, running into the house with a dopey grin on your face while you made up an excuse to your mom, blaming non existent traffic for slowing you down.

kita wasn’t off the hook either that night. gran heard him coming from down the road, waiting for him in her rocker with raised eyebrows.

after graduation, the two of you spent every moment you could together. delivering kita snacks while he worked in the fields, having picnics under the stars, even joining his friends on trips to the lake.

when it was time to head to university, kita was the first to offer to help you pack. he calmed your nerves and dried your tears, promising to be there for you whenever you needed.

he called you every day while you were at university, even traveling to see you between holidays.

after you got your degree, gran so graciously offered to let you live with her. your family had moved away, and you couldn’t bear to be away from kita any longer. you spent your days at work, only to come home and enjoy dinner cooked by gran with the man who had your entire heart.

as if you had any more to give, kita asked for the rest of your heart at the end of harvest a couple years ago, proposing with a family ring that he had been saving. you could only nod as tears streamed down your face, being spun around under the evening sun. kita didn’t even change, still wearing the work pants and stained t shirt, dusty boots and sun hat that he donned earlier that morning. he couldn’t wait any longer.

your wedding was everything you could have imagined. full of friends and family, dancing and food. kita spent weeks with his friends fixing up the yard, making it fit for a queen and her king on their big day. lights hung from the trees, flowers from your garden littering the grass and tables, all while your friends laughed and sang along to soundtrack to your love.

three years later, you and kita sit in the back yard after dinner in an attempt to cool off after a long day preparing for harvest. the summer sun hung low in the air while you filled kita in on the phone call you had with your mother.

“she found a few boxes of my things,” you sighed. “stuff from school, photos and things. i told her to set them aside.”

“anything good?” kita’s back is on the grass, and his feet are flat on the ground. the knees of his pants are soiled brown from the fields.

“photo albums, note books, random odds and ends i think. i’ll grab them from her eventually,” you pick at the blades of grass at your feet. “i’m sure we could have a good laugh at some of them.”

your husbands mud stained hand comes to rest on your thigh.

“do ya remember when i first brought ya home to gran?”

you smile. it was an absolute disaster.

“i thought i would never be welcomed back,” you laugh, and kita snorts.

“she loves ya too much,” he closes his eyes as you play with his hands. “what did ya break again? a plate?”

“a drinking glass,” you nod. the memory is as vivid as ever. you had offered to help with dinner, but while you were turning to grab a hot pad you ended up knocking a drinking glass off of the counter. you apologized over and over, no matter how much gran waved you off and assured you that it wasn’t a big deal. i’ve got a cupboard full of them, she said.

“ya know what she told me after i dropped ya off that night?”

“bubble wrap her next time?”

“no,” he playfully flicks your leg. “she said how much she liked ya, how she thought ya had great manners. she loved how sweet ya were too,” he says. “gran told me that night that i would never be bored with ya,”

you grin. “and gave you been bored?”

“not recently,” he teases. “i have never been bored with you. i love sharin’ this life with ya, no matter what we’re doin’,” he sits up next to you and wraps his arm around you.

“even dishes?” you rest your head on his shoulder and he chuckles. as long as you’ve known him, that’s been his least favorite chore.

“even dishes,” he nods and takes a sip from his glass. “do ya wanna go for a drive?”

you eye his truck, still as faded and beat up as the first time you saw it. except of course for the scratch on the tailgate from when you tried to drive it for the first time.

“always, shin. where are we heading tonight?” you dust off your legs and his before you walk towards the driveway.

“i didn’t have anywhere in mind,” he opens the door for you, as always, shutting it before walking to the drivers side. “is that alright?”

“it’s perfect,” you look out towards the fields, now slightly golden from the sinking sun. the irrigation sprinklers would be going off soon. “maybe we can stop by gran. i have some things from the garden to give her,”

kita nods, placing his hand on your thigh. the middle seat between the two of you won’t be empty for long. usually after a few minutes, you slide over to sit right next to him.

the two of you pull out of the driveway and down the road, taking in the farm land around you. rows and rows of corn, grass, wheat, and rice. some fields of livestock, some empty for the season. kita drives with one hand, and you can’t help but smile when the light catches his sparkling wedding band as it shines against his tan fingers.

you don’t know how you got so incredibly lucky all of those years ago. you’ve never wanted anyone else. no matter what, no matter where, you’re always going to choose kita. the man who holds your bags for you, picks you a flower on his walk from the fields, the man who has a polaroid of you on the dash of his truck.

the man who has loved you fully from the start.

when belphegor falls in love

content + warnings: belphie x reader, some angst (and chapter 16 spoilers) with a fluffy end, probably some improper astronomy things going on but i'm trying my best // [masterlist]

word count: ~1.3k

the planetarium is cast in a blueish glow from the stars above-- something about the devildom skies made them twinkle in a barely-there powder blue, now recreated on the ceiling in sparkling, vivid specks of wonder.

the stage was set beautifully before you arrived. layered blankets covered a larger-than-necessary section of the floor, nested around the makeshift bed that he had already warmed up for you with a quick snooze of his own. there was a small mountain of pillows waiting for you

but that was then, and this is now. all preparations were played off as simple and easy, disregarded as insignificant now that you were wrapped up in his arms. belphie smirks as your lips press soft, sweet kisses across his cheeks and temples-- as much as he doesn't want to admit that he put in effort to make this date special, he loves basking selfishly in your praise. it's smug, he knows, but considering how much work something like this is for the avatar of sloth, shouldn't he get a little recognition?

your body is soft against his, warm and comforting like a blanket fresh from the dryer. he pulls you in a little tighter and nuzzles against the side of your hair, peppering little kisses against you just to hear that giggle he adores spill from your lips. his eyes are on you, but yours are glued to the twinkling lights on the ceiling-- lucky, seeing as he doesn't have to hide the sappy look on his face from you when your attention is divided.

"are these the same stars we have in the human realm?" you ask quietly. he nodded and finally tears his gaze away to join yours on the recreation of the starry sky above you.

"mhmm," he murmurs quietly. "that's one of the things we've always had in common-- the devildom and the human realm share the same stars."

if this had been a better night, he would have taken you out to see the stars in real life, not just come phony imitations. but the light pollution in the devildom was a bitch. the only place within a reasonable distance with a clear enough view was the demon lord's castle, but frankly, belphie had no interest in sharing your attention with lord diavolo of all demons tonight. so, albeit a bit reluctantly, he settled on the planetarium instead.

"that makes sense."

your arm lifts towards the sky and points to a constellation above. your eyes glimmer with pride in the low light, and he wonders what's going to come out of your mouth.

"that's the big dipper," you say proudly.

he laughs-- it's a little mean, judging by how confident you looked during your announcement. but you just look so cute pointing out one of the most recognizable constellations like it's a diamond in the rough. you pout a little and look at him funny.

"what? that's the big dipper."

"yeah, obviously," he retorts, that smug grin making him look mean and sweet all at once. "i'm sure even levi could point that out."

"oh yeah? then you point out a constellation, genius."

a chuckle leaves his lips. his fingers trail up your arm, teasing you, feeling the way goosebumps gather on your skin as he moves. he takes your wrist and points your finger at another cluster of stars.

"you see that w-shape over here?" his hand guides you into connecting dots across the projection. "that's cassiopeia."

his eyes flicker over to you. your gaze is no longer scorned but wide-eyed and enraptured. a swell of satisfaction warms his chest.

you've always had an interest in stargazing. it was one of the first things the two of you connected over once he left the attic. life had never been so awkward as it was then. not only did his brothers tiptoe around him, like they were waiting for him to explode into a tantrum of sorts. but now he had you to wrap his mind around: a human descendant of the sister he lost so long ago, now here and friendly with demons that should have killed you in one fell swoop.

well, it seemed like he had done enough damage for the rest of them.

he didn't deserve you. not really. he was reminded of his sins in quiet moments like this. you're babbling on about something related, some story you've been meaning to share. he thinks he hears beel's name somewhere in the story, so he nods like he's paying attention.

how he managed to win you over is something that still baffles him to this day. you should hate him. you should have spat in his face on that day, made him pay for the lies and deceit at your expense. but you didn't. you accepted him on your own terms, bridging the gap between you through his brothers. you single-handedly fixed what was broken when lilith died-- he still feels indebted to you in some way. maybe that's why he still feels some lingering guilt snuggling close to you like this. he doesn't deserve your kindness.

"you okay?"

your voice is soft, each word threaded with concern. he blinks. has he really been out of it that long?

"i'm fine," he answers, but he won't meet your gaze. he knows that you know he's lying. "really."

you intertwine your fingers with his and press a soft kiss to the back of his hand. it's quiet. no words are exchanged as you stare at each other for a moment. it's nice.

you look beautiful under these stars. belphegor is in love with you.

the realization makes his cheeks burn, and he unconsciously moves to snuggle closer to you. his fingers quiver a little against your hand, but you don't seem to mind. you give him a small smile and graciously accept his snuggles without question.

he loves you so much.

it feels a little hard to breathe right now-- feeling your warmth against him makes him hotter, and suddenly he feels like retreating from your kindness and sleeping the next century away under beel's bed.

"regardless," you say, in a way that shows him you know he's acting off but won't push him any further. "whatever it is, you can always talk to me. you mean the world to me."

the heat of shame and embarrassment melt away as you embrace him. your eyes focus back up on the ceiling.

"there's the little dipper, too," you murmur. he laughs again. "what? why do you keep laughing, you big bully?"

"you look really cute when you do that. y'know, when you get excited about finding really easy constellations," he huffs quietly, nuzzling into your neck with red cheeks and a surly pout at such a cruel nickname. he feels you laugh, buzzing pleasantly against his nose, and can't help but smile a little himself.

"gross," you tease. you both laugh this time. then, quieter, you ask, "will you tell me about the constellations?"

he nods and shifts to look at the ceiling again. when belphie tells you about the stars, he doesn't just explain their names-- he brings them to life. their conception and birth are discussed in hushed voices, with him telling you stories only a fallen angel would know. they begin to feel less like twinkling objects millions of miles away but, instead, like family. these stars you've gazed up at all your life have their own stories. one day, you'll make sure belphie tells you all of them.

he decides, as he's talking, to save his confession for another time. part of him wants to lay it all out for you immediately. then again, confessing under fake stars feels sort of like a jinx, doesn't it? so he'll wait-- for real stars, for the right time, for the best way to tell you he can't live another day without you.

taglist for this series: @deepseafragments // @darkflowerav // @annoying-and-upset // @katerinaval // @lurkingsnails // @chirikoheina // @all-mights-wife // @notareum