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lou-struck · 5 days

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Petals in the Wind

Hyoma Chigiri x reader

~After snagging reservations to one of the fanciest reservations in the city, Chigiri hopes his speed will be enough to get him there on time.

W.C. 2.3k

A/n: dividers to be added once I get home from my friend’s wedding!

Hyoma Chigiri doesn't even try to look at the clock as he passes it. Soccer practice should’ve ended twenty minutes ago, but this damn scrimmage has been scoreless for too long, and both teams are too stubborn to end with a tie.

The Japanese National team has a friendly against the Colombian national team next week, so everyone is giving it their all to earn a spot in the starting eleven.

Although his head is mostly in the game, there is a sense of anxiousness gnawing at the pink-haired man’s heart. Tonight, he was able to snag a reservation at one of the most popular restaurants in the city. You have been wanting to go there ever since the place had opened, but

Thanks to its crazy rise in popularity, getting a table at all is near impossible.

This Reservation has been on your calendars for six months, and he absolutely cannot miss disappointing you tonight.

“Hey! Look alive, Princess.” The harsh shouting from Baro brings Chigri’s attention back to the turf as the dark-haired behemoth of a man sends a cross down line. It floats upwards over the back line and although it’s been years since Blue Lock, Chigiri feels that Egoist hunger thrashing inside of him.

That ball is his…

That goal is his…

If he scores this, he can shower and get ready for his dinner date with you.

His speed sends little rubber pellets up in the air as he chases the ball down. His pink hair slips from his tousled braid as he passes Reo and extends his leg towards the ball.

The familiar weight on his foot feels natural as he takes two generous touches towards the top of the 18-yard line before planting his foot.

His white laces strike through the ball as he shoots. The ball lifts slightly as it zips toward the top left corner of the goal. His breath hitches in anticipation as the ball floats just above the tips of the goalkeeper's fingers, only to hit the crossbar and ping back in the opposite direction.

“Dammit,” he curses under his breath as the purple-haired player clears the ball in the opposite direction.

His legs, his wonderful, wonderful legs, carry him back down the field as he tries to make a recovery run. But once Reo’s clearance passes over Isagi’s head and reaches its white-haired target, there is little anyone can do to stop Nagi from scoring.

Especially if it means scoring would end practice, and he could take a nap

The ball hits the back of the net, and finally, this practice is over.

Although it’s just practice, this loss forms a knot in his chest as he heads off to the locker room. His face, a cold look of disappointment that he hoped would deter his teammates from bringing up his last shot.

Judging from the way Baro stomps towards him, his pristine and unusually fluffy bath towel draped over his shoulder, he can tell those hopes are in vain.

The scowl on the taller man’s face is a telltale sign that Hyoma is about to receive a rather annoying scolding.

“You louse. Did you just do all that work just to shoot off frame?” he growls, staring him down with a menacing brow.

“It looks like someone was distracted today.” Bachira comments in his usual sing-song voice. “Is it because of your date tonight with you know who?” He sticks his tongue out playfully as he reaches his hand out to try to play with Chirigi’s hair.

He bats it away and turns to walk away from his teammates

“Technically, my shot was on frame; it just hit it,” he mumbles, pulling off his red penny that hasn't been washed in weeks.

“Well, if we were competing in the crossbar challenge, then Princess here would be the champ, but now he’s just dead weight.”

“Hey, cool it. I’m sure Chigiri feels bad enough about missing his shot.” Isagi says, turning to his friend and teammate with a kind smile. “So, where are you taking y/n tonight?” he asks, handing Chirigi his duffle bag.

‘We have reservations for Indigo, he replies, taking his bag from his friend. He tries to keep it cool but can’t help but feel proud when he sees the awe in his friend's eyes.

“Isn’t that the really fancy place downtown?” Bachira asks, his yellow eyes gleaming with curiosity. “How long have you had that reservation for?”

“Six months,” he mutters dryly. “Making it was such a pain, but y/n is worth it.”

“Aweeeee, you loveeeee them.” he teases.

“Of course I do, you idiot,” he blushes, shyly tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. “More than anything.”

Indigo hunh? If you wanted a reservation that badly, you should’ve just asked me,” Reo says nonchalantly. “My family invested in it when it was starting out, so we always get a table.”

“And you’re just telling me about this now?” Chigiri mutters as Nagi stretches out on the wooden locker room bench.

“Hey, Reo. Take me there; it sounds good.” He murmurs sleepily, trying to take off his jersey; his movements are so sluggish that the shirt gets stuck halfway off his shoulders.

“Sure,” he shrugs. “How about tomorrow?”

Chirigi grits his teeth. “Must be nice to be rich,” he mutters, sulking off to the showers so he can wash his hair and get ready for your date tonight.

Now clean and looking rather dapper in his gray tweed suit and deep pink tie. Chigiri’s leg bounces in apprehension as he sits in the back of his cab. His head rests against the glass window as his driver reduces speed yet again due to the rush hour traffic.

His eyes flick down to his watch for what seems to be the nth time in thirty seconds. No matter how many times he looks at the time, he still is going to be running late for his dinner reservations.

Indigo was only a 20-minute drive from his training facility, so why does the navigation say that they will be arriving in 18 minutes.

With his reservation in less than 10 minutes, Hyoma Chigiri starts to panic. Indigo is such a prestigious restaurant that he was barely able to get a reservation for the two of you. If he’s late, will the restaurant forfeit it? They could just give it away to another party, and it would be his fault.

He could ruin the night for you…

This realization seems to hit him like one of Kunigami’s long range shots as he begins to panic, fidgeting in his seat. Leaning forward, he looks at his driver’s navigation.

“Excuse me,” he says to the cab driver. “Is there another way to Indigo? I really can’t be late.”

“Not in this traffic,” they shrug. “I guess you’re stuck in here. unless, of course, you wanna get out and walk.” The Driver's sarcastic tone is lost on the athlete, who quickly pulls up the walking directions on his phone.

8 minutes…

“That’s better than 18,” he mumbles to himself.

“What was that?” The driver asks, turning his head; his car is now at a standstill in the heavy traffic.

It’s now or never.

“I’m just gonna get out here then,” Hyoma says flatly. “ Thanks for the ride.”

Before the driver can even protest, saying that he was just joking around and that he should stay in the car, he’s gone.

Hyoma’s black dress shoes stand out against the dirty asphalt as he waves through the four lanes of standstill traffic. Drivers honk at him, but other than that, don't do anything since they are stuck there for probably the next half hour.

He checks his phone when he is safely on the sidewalk. His directions tell him that Indigo is just a few blocks away if he runs, he’ll make it in time. Despite his formal attire he begins to run, those amazing legs of his propelling him forward. They ache from his earlier training session, but he doesn't stop.

People stare after him as he sprints past them, his firefly pink hair zipping in the wind messily, but he doesn't have time to care about anything other than making it to your date on time.

He runs and runs and runs until something small catches his eye and makes him stop in his tracks.

Just to his right is an adorable little flower truck overflowing with lush bouquets of tulips. Carefully wrapped and arranged in brown paper wrapping.

When people are in love, they tend to act without thinking, which is why, despite his haste, Hyoma slips his credit card out of his wallet and frantically slams it down on the smooth countertop, much to the surprise of the little old lady running the flower cart.

“In a rush, dear?” she asks sweetly, eyeing him up and down and shooting him a knowing smile.

“Dinner….Reservations…. Minutes,” he says between breaths.

“Then how about you take these,” she says, handing him a gorgeous bouquet of tulips. “On the house.”

“Really?” he asks, tucking his card back into his pocket.

“Of course, I love young love.” she gives him a knowing smile. “But you best be getting a move on; it seems like you have someone very important to see.”

“Thank you, I will.” he takes the bouquet and takes off. His dress pants restrict his movements a bit but he still is able to tap into that impressive speed of his.

But through his haste, the pretty man is unaware that his rapid movements are causing the bouquet he just stopped for to begin to come apart.

“One more block to go,” he huffs, glancing down in his direction. All the while failing to notice the whirlwind of flower petals he is leaving behind in his wake as those lovely bundles of tulips get smaller and smaller.

When your boyfriend first told you that he managed to get a reservation for you at Indigo, you couldn’t believe it. This was a restaurant that even celebrities struggle getting tables at. But now that the intoxicating smell of the restaurant is under your nose. Seems your dreams have become a reality.

The early evening looks great on you as you check your reflection in a darkened window.

Although you got caught in some pretty terrible traffic on your way, you managed to beat your boyfriend to the restaurant. This little victory brings a smile to your face as you walk up to the hostess stand.

An absolutely Gorgeous-looking hostess looks up from her tablet and greets you with a smile. “Welcome in. Do you have a reservation tonight?”

“Thank you,” you reply feeling a bit nervous to be checking in for a reservation you didn't make. “Yes, I have a reservation for two under Chigiri; my partner is running a bit behind, so I just wanted to check in for us.”

“That’s no problem, let me just check my list.” she hums as her eyes scan the tablet, and you hold your breath, hoping there wasn't an error. After the longest ten seconds of your life, she looks up from the screen and gives you a reassuring look. Unfortunately, your table is still getting ready, so please feel free to wait until I call for you.”

“Perfect,” you reply, sighing in relief. “Thank you so much.”

You walk out the restaurant doors and into the fresh evening air. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Chigiri, his pink hair thrashing in the wind and a look of terror on his usually calm features.

“I’m not late, am I?” he huffs, placing his hands on his knees. “We didn't miss our reservation?”

“Nope, you're right on time,” you grin, walking over to him and gently fixing his wind-tousled hair. “They are still setting up our table.”

“That’s a relief,” he sighs, standing up straight and giving you a tight-lipped smile. His chest still heaves from his sprinting.

“You look exhausted; what’s the point of being a pro athlete if you can’t even run down the block?” You tease.

His eyes narrow at your comment. “Too much traffic; I had to get out and run if I wanted to make it here on time,” he replies, glaring at you through his pretty lashes.

Raise your hands in surrender and give him a love-filled smile that is quickly replicated by him.

“Hi,” he murmurs, rolling his eyes. His hand comes to gently cup the side of your head as he brings your lips to his, greeting you the way he should’ve if he was on time.

“Hi,” you murmur against his lips. Something brushes against your leg, causing you to look down. Something long, leafy, and green is wedged in his hand. “ What are these?”

His eyes go wide and he looks down at what used to be the bouquet of flowers he got for you. He raises him to your eye level, and you see the cluster of green stems wrapped in paper. They are completely bare save for a single tulip. The soft pink color of its open petals is almost the same striking color as your boyfriend’s eyes and hair.

“ These were for you, but I guess I lost a few petals along the way.” He starts to put them in the trash, but you stop him, removing the loan tulip from amongst its fallen brethren.

“It’s perfect, “you laugh, breathing in the subtle fragrance. "Thank you for bringing it for me.”

“After dinner, I promise I will buy you the whole flower shop if I have to,” he says with a deadly serious expression.

“Nope, I like this one just fine.” You say stubbornly, tucking your flower behind your ear.

“Chigiri party of two,” the hostess calls from the restaurant entrance.

“ I guess that’s us.” He smiles. “ Are you ready?”

With a five-star meal just feet away, your stomach growls in response. Hyoma chuckles as you meet his gaze. “With you, always.”

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

#Blue Lock #bllk #bllk fluff #bllk x reader #chigiri hyoma #chigiri x reader #hyoma chigiri #hyoma chigiri x reader #x reader

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lou-struck · 10 days

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Hii , I filled your taglist a few days ago but yesterday I changed my url. From @riru-online to @starbbyy

Hi there! Thank you so much for signing up for my taglist! I'll make sure to update my form! 💞

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lou-struck · 15 days

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I woke up this morning to this, I cannot believe this is real!!!

100000 likes is incredible, thank you guys so much. I have so much love in my heart for all of you!

#100000 likes #tumblr milestone #thank you #I cannot believe this is real!!!

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lou-struck · 16 days

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Working on yesterdays winner

#boost before bed

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lou-struck · 17 days

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#Polls

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lou-struck · 18 days

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Hi I absolutely adore Made With Love do you know if you’ll be able to do another part or has it been discontinued?

Hey! I am so glad you are liking my series so far! I have been a bit irregular with posting but I promise you that the next part will be out soon! I just needed to step away from it for a bit since the first two parts ended up being much longer than I anticipated them to be.

#nonnie💞

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lou-struck · 18 days

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#polls #writing

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lou-struck · 18 days

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Missed Messages

Lucifer x reader

~ You have always tried to be self sufficient and fight your own battles. But when you reach your breaking point, you find yourself alone.

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, physical and emotional feelings of stress, reader getting treated poorly for being a human, group projects.

~2.9k

You feel like there is a little stress demon bouncing around your chest. In the human world, group projects were annoying, and unfortunately, they still exist in hell.

For one of your classes, you were paired up with Olivier, a Greater demon from one of the Devildom's wealthy families, and his companions. Right from the get-go, he made it very clear that he had no intention of working on a project with a filthy human and that if you were to say anything about his refusal, it would make Diavolo's exchange program look bad if it appeared that the demons at RAD were not being accepting of humans.

At first, you thought his threat was silly. That he was simply a slacker who wanted to get out of work. But after a while, you realized that Olivir has a strong distaste for humans and could have the influence to cause problems for the exchange program if you were to speak out against his behaviors.

So, you put on your best face and ignored his prejudiced behavior. The subtle comments he would make under his breath when you asked questions in class, the way he would cleanse his hand with fire magic after coming into contact with something you had touched, and the way conversations would die out whenever you entered a room without one of the brothers, the Angels, or Diavolo himself by your side.

You have been tirelessly working on this massive project all by yourself; it has stolen all of your free time, and feelings of sardonic frustration are just welling up inside of you. Now, just like the too-heavy book bag that clings to your shoulder, You are nearing your breaking point.

The House of Lamination is a safe haven for you after your tiring days at RAD, but right as you enter through its massive double doors, you come face to face with Lucifer. The Avatar of Pride greets you with a loving expression, but he looks just as exhausted as you feel.

"Mc? Is something troubling you?" he asks, taking in your downcast features with a frown. You want to tell him of your little problem, but he is ridiculously busy and probably has more important things to do than dealing with your inability to play nice with others.

After all, a classmate not liking you is no excuse for you to receive a poor grade on your project…

"Not at all," you reply, flashing him a sweet, convincing smile. "I'm just getting a bit hangry, I can't wait for dinner tonight."

"I see," he says doubtfully.

"How are you doing?" you ask, changing the subject. 'You look a bit stressed."

"Is it that obvious?" he chuckles, raking his hand through his raven-colored hair. "Apparently, those rubber duck toys from the human world have become quite popular in the Devildom, and Lord Diavolo thought it would be fun to give them out at RAD. So now I am going through the student council finances to determine how many ducks and varieties we need."

"Sounds complicated, but why you?"

"No clue," he sighs, "But he seems to think that I have a hidden fondness for these toys."

"Well, I'm sure this Rubber Duck event will go off without a hitch," you say earnestly. "You are so organized and capable you can make anything successful."

"Do you really mean that?" he asks, a smile gracing his fine features. You nod as he gives you a soft peck on the forehead as thanks for your kind words. "I have to work through this paperwork now, but I feel more inclined to do it after your encouragement, Mc."

"Wait," you call after him. "You better make it down for dinner tonight then; if you don't, I will personally invite Solomon to come and prepare the next meal."

His eyes widen as a shudder courses through his strong back. "There's no need for that. I promise to be down for dinner."

Hours later, everyone is gathered around the dinner, eating some kind of Devildom variation of lasagna that Satan made.

Beel has a whole sheet pan to himself and is chowing down as he and Belphie seem to be having a telepathic conversation that no one at the table is able to decipher. Lucifer is at the head of the table, keeping true to his promise of joining you, but he is eating quickly, clearly in a rush.

Asmodeus sits to your right, talking animatedly about something that happened today when he was at the mall, you're sure it's an entertaining story based on the reactions of the others, but you are too lost in thought, poking at your dinner plate with a silver fork.

Although you have been working on your project for days, there is no way you are going to finish the damn thing on time. This workload was meant for a large group, not just one simple human.

"Mc? What are ya thinkin' about?" Mammon asks, stirring you from your thoughts. "Ya haven't touched yer dinner."

"Satan looks up at you from across the table. "Do you not care for this dish?" he asks. "I could make you something else if you would prefer it?" his dejection breaks your heart.

You shake your head quickly. "No, not at all," you say. "I love it; the sauce is really creamy, I just got distracted."

"Oh, I see." he nods as you take a bite of his dish. "I'm relieved."

"Gahhhh," Levi cries from his seat as he sets his game console down on the table. His screen flashing red tells you that he has just failed the level he was on. "I can't believe it, I was so close."

"Leviathan, what did I say about playing video games at the dinner table?" Lucifer asks the purple-haired demon sternly.

"N-not to." he sulks, slipping the little handheld off the table and into his deep jacket pocket.

"Thank you," the eldest responds. He clears his throat to get the attention of everyone. "Now, if I could just have a second of your time."

"One," Belphie deadpans, looking at his older brother. They hold eye contact, and it is clear the youngest is struggling to keep a straight face at his joke.

"Anyways," the taller demon continues, "I have a very important task to finish tonight, and I will need absolutely-"

"That's two seconds now." Satan interrupts with a snicker.

Lucifer, with the wisdom and patience of the oldest sibling, chooses to ignore the teasing and continue with what he is saying. "As I was saying, I require peace and quiet to complete these documents, so I will now be returning to my study and enchanting the door with a noise-canceling spell. I do not wish to be disturbed, so please only contact me if it is an emergency."

"Wait? So we jus can do whatever we wanna do tonight?" Mammon asks, his eyes sparkle with mischievous greed as he imagines the possibilities before him.

"Within reason, Mammon," Lucifer's crimson glare shoots to all his brothers. "But if I find out that any of you decided to waste your free time running about the devildom causing problems, rest assured, I will punish you using everything at my disposal." The room falls silent as the Avatar of Pride rises from his seat and turns to leave. His massive cape swishes dramatically as he walks out the dining room doors.

Unsurprisingly, Asmo is the first to spring from his seat. His arms wrap around you as you inhale his sweet peach-scented cologne. "Mc, come to my room. I have the cutest top you can wear tonight when you go to the club with me." he purrs into the shell of your ear.

"No way," Mammon objects. "The human is gonna come to the Casino with the Great Mammon tonight."

Before the two demons try to drag you across the Devildom to party, you object. "Actually, I have a project to work on," you say, standing. "But you guys have fun."

"Wait, Mc," Beel asks softly, his big eyes full of hope. "Belphie and I were gonna go get some shaved ice for dessert. Would you like to join us?"

Your heart flutters tenderly at the Avatar of Gluttony's request, but the stress you are feeling is hitting you ten-fold. "I wish I could, Beel. But I really have to get my assignment done."

"May I join you two?" Satan asks. "I find myself in the mood for dessert."

"Me too," Levi quips.

"Sounds like a plan," Belphie says, looking at you with a pout. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?"

"I'm positive," you reply, giving them your most convincing smile. "Now, you guys should go before the shop closes for the night." Beel's eyes go wide with worry, and he hastily leaves the room. As the others follow him out.

Now alone, your body begins to tremble under the stress of the deadline looming over your head. The walk back to your desk is a long one, and tears begin to wheel in your eyes as you stare down at your assignment rubric and wonder how, in the three realms, you are going to be able to finish this project on time.

It's been hours of working. Stressing, erasing, and overthinking and you feel like you are nearing your wits end.

Your screen lights up with a message from Asmodeus. When you open it is a video attachment. Clicking on it you see that the 6 brothers are sharing a lush VIP booth at the Fall. "I wish you were hereeeee," Asmo yells into the speaker just above the thrumming base that belphie manages to sleep through peacefully. Their cheeks are ruddy from demonus, and they have the happiest smiles on their faces.

It brings a smile to your face as you rewatch the video. Just behind Mammon, you see a figure that has you seeing red.

He is double-fisting some kind of green demonus and wearing a ridiculous hat, but you see your classmates, the demon Olivier and the rest of your 'group' out partying without a care in the world.

While you are at home, working tirelessly on their project.

Something inside of you just shatters, and you turn away from your desk and throw yourself onto your bed. The soft pillows muffle your cries of frustration. Your DDD feels like a brick in your hand as you raise it to your eye level.

Your tired face stares back at you on the black screen, and you feel so alone.

You need to talk to someone…

But it's the middle of the night, Simeon and Solomon have gone to bed hours ago and Diavolo and Barbatos are off at a diplomatic conference. You know in your heart that Lucifer is still awake, hunched over his desk as he works through his mountain of paperwork.

Although he said he did not want to be disturbed, your feelings are too severe.

This feels like an emergency.

You call him, wanting to at least hear the soothing sound of his voice. The Dial Tone rings once, twice, thrice… but he doesn't pick up.

You sit there, listening to the dull sound of his answering machine. "I guess even in Hell, I have to leave voicemails," you murmur, waiting for the beep.

"Hey… It's me," you say into the speaker. It's a struggle to keep your voice steady. "I know it's late, and you have lots to do, but if you get this, could you ple-please come here. I just really need someone to talk to right now."

Just voicing your struggle is enough to send tears trickling down your face, and you quickly hang up the phone before you let out one of those raspy, croaked sounds loose from your throat.

Exhaustion courses through your body as you give up on completing the group project for the night. Perhaps when you wake tomorrow, you will have the energy to pretend your problems don't exist.

Lucifer wakes up with his head against the polished mahogany of his desk. A bit of drool wetting the surface as he runs his hands through his hair. "What time is it?" he mutters groggily, reaching out blindly for his DDD.

He pats the empty surface and sits up straighter. Finding that his device is not in its usual place on his desk. His brow furrows as he begins to look through the mountain of papers, trying not to ruffle the organized stacks that he completed earlier before dozing off.

Minutes later of flipping and straightening, he finds it under the center stack and sees that it is flooded with pictures from his brothers, who look like they had a great, but expensive, night out together.

It brings a warm smile to his lips when he sees their cheesing faces. But then he notices another notification he hadn't seen before. "Mc sent me a voicemail?" He clicks play.

"Hey… It's me. I know it's late and you have lots to do, but if you get this could you ple- please come here. I just really need someone to talk to right now." your voice sounds so weak and shaky it fills him with dread.

How could he have missed this?

He stands abruptly, papers flying everywhere from the movement, but he really couldn't care less.

You need him.

You needed him last night and he wasn't there for you.

He has to find you, hold you, and do whatever he can to make you feel better.

Apparently, falling asleep after hitting an emotional low does not constitute the most restful sleep. Your neck feels stiff as you pull your head up from your pillows. The fabric is still slightly damp from your tears the night before. There's this icky feeling in your chest, but it doesn't seem to go away. It only intensifies when you look over at your desk, your unfinished project littering the once pristine space.

Your door flies open suddenly as a gust of air reaches your skin. Lucifer stands in the doorway tensely. He looks ragged, tired, and his deep crimson eyes are muddled with heartbreaking concern. You immediately remember the voicemail that you sent him the night before

You stressed him out; you have to fix this.

"Good morning, Lucifer," you smile. But it doesn't reach your eyes. He can see through your little act. "I didn't mean to worry you with that voicemail; it was really nothing."

"What's wrong?" he says, coming forward, closing that painful distance with determination. His hand cupping your cheek, forcing you to meet his eyes.

It's funny how one simple touch has your self-assured act crumbling to the ground like a poorly constructed house of cards.

You find yourself spilling every detail to him, your exhaustion, the group project, the ostracization from your groupmates, and how you saw that they were out at the club last night."

All the while, Lucifer nods along with your story, his thumb gently running along your cheek in a soothing motion. His actions are caring and tender toward you, but there is a fire blazing in his eyes reserved for someone else. You may not know it yet, but Olivir's days of comfort are numbered.

"Why didn't you tell me of this before," he asks softly once you finish your explanation. "Why did you take this burden upon yourself?"

"I was worried, "you admit. "I heard that Olivir comes from an influential family. If I said anything, he could cause problems for the exchange program that you and Diavolo have worked so hard for."

"Mc, I promise you, that little rat was greatly exaggerating his self-importance." Lucifer's hand rubs gentle circles into your back. "If anything, you have far more influence in Devildom politics than he does," he adds with an amused chuckle. "

"He's still a jerk, though." you sniffle, wiping your eyes. "Thank you for coming here to cheer me up."

"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner," he murmurs. "You needed me, and I let you down; please let me make it up to you today."

"You have nothing to make up for," you start, glancing back at your table. "Besides, I have to finish that project before tomorrow."

"Absolutely not," he says abruptly. "You will not lay a finger on that project since clearly you have done more than your share. I will make sure Lord Diavolo hears of this situation and you receive full marks on the work you have already done. I need you to know that you can rely on me. No matter how busy I am, I should never be too busy to come to your aid."

"I love you," you sigh, feeling the burdens lifting off your chest and disappearing into nothingness. "But I should've told you sooner. What do you think will happen to the rest of my group?"

He smiles and kisses the top of your head; as you lean into his touch, you don't see the dark look on his features. "Don't worry about them, Mc, I'll make sure they never cause you pain ever again. Now, let's get changed; I'll take you to that new cafe that opened up to Majolish and enjoy the rest of the day.

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

#obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me #obey me x mc #obey me lucifer #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #lucifer fluff #x reader

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lou-struck · 19 days

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A Helping Hand

Hajime Iwaizumi x reader

~After a long day at work your muscles ache something fierce, luckily your boyfriend is there to lend a helping hand.

W.C: 1.5k

A/n: a bit self indulgent since I thought this up after working a double and would kill for this to happen to me.

Your feet feel like they are made of concrete as you climb the creaky staircase to your unit. Invisible pins and needles prick your sensitive skin as you drag your fatigued self up to the third floor.

When your tired eyes come to rest upon your front door, you feel like you just reached the top of Mt. Everest. The silver keys in your hands jingle as you slip them into the small round lock. When you hear that heavenly click, you throw your weight against the door to open it, and you stumble over the threshold and into your dark, empty apartment.

With your partner going for the past few days on a work trip with one of the teams he gives treatments to, the only sign of life in the place that usually feels like home is the high pile of dishes in your sink that has accumulated from the last few days.

You know that the mess is completely your fault, but work has been killing you this last week. They have been short-staffed staffed, and management has encouraged you to be a 'team player' and work doubles the last five days while they sit in their office and play Sudoku or Words with Friends.

After spending the last 14 hours of your day on your feet at work running around the building like a chicken with their head cut off, chores are the last thing you want to do.

But now, you are completely pooped. Your jelly legs seem to shake as standing is now too exhausting for you. With a wince, you drag yourself to the light blue second-hand sofa and lower yourself onto the citrus-scented cushions that embrace you like an old friend.

As you are welcomed home, you kick off those stupidly uncomfortable black, nonstick work shoes, flinging them across the floor and not caring when they thud against the wall way harder than you expected them to.

The sound of rubber soles against the drywall rattles off of your eardrums as you lay back and press your face into the little decorative pillow.

You probably should change, or make something to eat, or shower. But now, all you want to do is shut your eyes and forget that today's shift from hell never happened.

You haven't been lying down long when a familiar voice reaches your ears. "Bad day?" it asks, laced with warm concern. The welcome intrusion stirs you from your not-quite slumber.

"I'm never going to work ever again." Your whine is pitiful coming from the couch cushion as you feel the sofa dip as your beloved boyfriend, Hajime Iwazumi, sits down next to you.

His large hand gently comes to rest on your back as his fingers gently tickle your skin through your work shirt. "I'm sorry, love." When he feels one of the deep knots of tension that lay hidden under your skin. He pauses his movements and gives the stiff lump a curious poke.

Just the little prod is enough to make you wince, and you try to wiggle away from the discomfort. "That hurt," you whine, lifting your face from the slightly pokey pillow.

He chuckles and kisses your forehead softly as an apology. "M'sorry."

It's okay," you groan, grabbing his hand, "I'm glad you're back, I thought you weren't going to be home until tomorrow."

"Had a change of plans and decided to ride back with one of the assistant coaches instead of taking the bus," he says.

"That's good," you say, creaking open your eyes. He looks a bit tired from the travel, but other than that, he looks like a million bucks in that black t-shirt that makes his arms look huge.

His olive gaze looks down at you with concern as he cups your tired face, the callous in his fingers scraping against your dry, tired skin as you lean into his embrace.

"You look exhausted," he frowns, inspecting every inch of your face.

"I think I pushed myself a bit too hard this week," you chuckle. "My back, no, my everything is killing me."

"That's not good; there's a difference between working hard and neglecting yourself. How about you get changed into something comfortable and I can help make those muscles of yours feel a little less sore."

The idea of getting a massage from your athletic trainer boyfriend sounds heavenly, but the idea of getting up on your own and changing out of your uniform sounds like an impossible task."

"Can't move," you mumble dramatically. "It's too late for me."

"No, it's not," he scolds gruffly. Despite his stubborn tone, he gently scoops you up off the couch and carries you down the hall.

Those muscles of his are not just for show.

He sets you down on the edge of the bed and disappears into the closet door.

"Here, put these on," he says, tossing lumps of fabric in your direction. Surprisingly you manage to catch them in your tired state. Unfolding each garment you see that he has given you one of his sleep shirts and those super cozy gray pajama pants that you love.

As you wordlessly peel off your disgusting uniform to change into something fresh, clean, and completely yours, Hajime sneaks out of the room.

His shirt smells like home, like him, as you slip it on over your head. The fabric is littered with holes, and the elastic on your sweats doesn't really work anymore, but damn, are they comfortable.

As you walk back into the kitchen, you find him hunched over the kitchen sink, scrubbing away at your dishes. As that untouched responsibility disappears beneath the suds, your heart feels tender.

"What are you looking at?" he asks, sensing your presence behind him.

'Just you." you hum. "Do you know how incredible you are?"

"Clearly you're delirious," he chuckles, placing another plate on the drying rack. "Go sit down for a bit, babe. Dinner is on the way, so let's just relax."

Your body moves slowly, and by the time you sink back into the couch cushions, Hajime has finished up with the last of the dishes. He dries his hands and slides behind you on the couch.

"Is this okay?" he asks, letting his warm palms rest on your tense shoulders. You feel his grimace as he finds the small treasure trove of knots littered under your tender skin.

"Yes, I'm ready," you breathe. Your teeth grit in apprehension as he starts to rhythmically dig his fingertips into your flesh.

"Let's start here," he murmurs gently. His expert hands coax your hard-earned tension out like it's second nature to him. "How does that feel y/n?"

"Good," you say softly, enjoying the spoiling that you truly do deserve. "How was your trip?"

"It wasn't too bad," he replies, relaxation evident in his tone. Perhaps helping you out is helping him settle in. "There weren't any major injuries this time around, just one rolled ankle and a few jammed fingers to tape. Honestly, the trip was kinda boring without you."

"You missed me?" you mumble, trying your best to listen to him. But his low voice is just so soothing and gentle you can't help but start to zone out."

When he notices how you are nodding off, he lets out an amused snort and pulls you closer to his warm chest. "How do you feel?"

"Like m' about to fell asleep," you answer. He snorts at your response and lightens his touch just a tad.

"Are you trying to make me fall asleep?" you mumble, enjoying the warm fuzzy feeling that he is giving you.

"And so what if I am? He muses. You have been working way too hard lately."

"So have you," you mumble. "You've been traveling like crazy with your teams. You should rest."

"I will," he replies simply, once I work this grapefruit of a knot out of your back."

"You're as stubborn as ever, aren't you Haijme." you tease as he continues working a giant knot out of your left shoulder.

He chuckles, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. "And so are you, you little hypocrite."

"But you love me for it," you smile.

"I do love you," he says tenderly, returning to the task at hand. His hands pull at the tense spot, creating a strangely soothing pinching sensation on your skin. The warmth of his hands and the care in his motions almost bring tears to your closed eyes. But suddenly, the knot in your shoulder seems to twitch, and you hear a clicking sound under your skin before it completely disappears.

"Oh my god, you exclaim, jolting upward, "Did you feel that? It clicked, and now it's gone. I'm alive."

"Looks like I got that one." he smiles, "now lay back down; you have at least eight more of those knots in your back that I plan on getting out before we go to bed."

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hajime x reader #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #Hajime iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x reader #x reader

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lou-struck · 19 days

Text

Dodge This!

Mirio Togata x reader (ft. Tamaki Amajiki)

~ Mirio has a new hobby and he just had to bring you along to cheer him on.

W.C. 2.6k

a/n: this was a sleep-deprived idea but I really am happy at how this turned out. I really had to incorporate some non-canon pop culture references for narrative sake.

The dimly lit pathways do little to conceal the drying puddles of rainwater on the street around you as you and your boyfriend, Mirio Togata, pass rows of darkened buildings in the city's warehouse district.

"Are you sure we're heading to the right place, Mirio?" You whisper, looking around for any sign of another person. "It seems awfully quiet around here."

He gives you a smile and drapes one of his strong arms around you, pulling you close. "There's nothing to worry about, y/n; we'll get to the gym soon. I just can't wait for you to see me play."

The game in question, dodgeball…

It's no secret pro heroes have some of the hardest jobs out there. Over time, pros have found ways to unwind after work just like everyone else, joining book clubs, poker groups, and adult sports teams.

The latter of which has been gaining more traction in recent years.

After hearing about a quirk-friendly recreational dodgeball league, Mirio jumped at the chance to sign up for a chance to use his quirk for something other than work. The first few times he had gone out, he returned sweaty, slightly bruised from ducking and diving against the gym floor, but more happy than you have seen him in a while.

This is saying something because he is literally a big ball of Sunshine, hope, and optimism. All wrapped in a thick coating of good humor and affection.

At first, you did not want to go. Not because you weren't interested in watching a bunch of Pro Heroes throw rubber balls at one another but because it seemed like this was his thing. This little league has been so therapeutic for him you didn't want to inject yourself into the experience. But after weeks of pleading from him, you finally relented, knowing that in your heart, he wants to share this new and exciting part of his life with you, the person he loves most in the world.

"Oh, watch your step there," he says suddenly. His large forearm shoots out in front of your stomach to stop you from stepping into a massive pothole full of rainwater.

"Thank you." Looking down into the deep hole in the ground, you shudder, imagining the uncomfortable sensation of walking around all night with a sock drenched in rainwater. "You really saved me there, Lemillion." your smile is soft as you meet his twinkling gaze.

His smiling cheeks flush a light pink color at the soft way you said his Hero name. "Anything for you," he beams, taking your hand and guiding you over the obnoxiously large puddle. His hand stays comfortably on your own as you continue walking down the paved street. He happily hums the Mission Impossible theme song, his current hyper-fixation, until he comes to a stop in front of a large warehouse. The white fluorescent light on the outside flickers as it is circled by big white moths.

"And here we are," he declares, turning his attention to you. His features turn serious as he places both of his hands on your shoulder. "Now, do you remember the first rule of underground dodgeball?"

"Ummm, don't talk about underground dodgeball?" you reply as his poker face shatters into his usual joyful features.

"That's it,” he laughs, his body practically buzzing with excitement.

"I should've never made you watch Fight Club, "you mutter under your breath as he takes some sort of access card out of his jacket pocket and slides it into the electronic lock. It beeps in response and the little red light on the side of the sensor turns from red to green as the metal doors open for the both of you.

You are flabbergasted at the complexity of the private facility. "All this for dodgeball?" this is kinda high tech, and you wonder which one of the country's extremely wealthy, retired Pro Heroes decided to fund this operation.

"Yeah, isn't it the best?" he asks, practically bounding down the short hallway toward the ever-growing sound of chatter. His mannerisms remind you of a golden retriever on its way to the dog park. The mental image brings a smile to your lips as you step into a massive gymnasium, its warm overhead lights illuminating the whole room.

A massive indoor sports court lies in the center of the room, surrounded by a few rows of bleachers.

There are already a multitude of heroes and sidekicks standing around the room, some tossing red rubber balls into the padded walls with a scary strength behind them. The impact sends shivers down your spine as you worriedly look to Mirio. But he doesn't seem nervous in the slightest at the possibility of decapitation by rubber ball. Instead, his blue eyes are alight with the fires of competitive determination.

"This is…" The word frightening lingers on the tip of your tongue, but he beats you to the punch.

"Incredible isn't it? In here we get to let loose a bit and have fun without worrying about our rankings or the media."

You nod, noticing the carefree smiles of the other Heroes in the room. This league is a good thing for them to have fun and just act like they are normal people whilst throwing rubber balls at each other.

He looks at the clock counting down on the switchboard above the gym and shoots you an embarrassed grin. "It looks like we are cutting it a bit close today. My game starts in five minutes, so I'll have to warm up a bit so I can really impress you."

"I'm already impressed with you Mirio," you smile fondly. "I'll go up to the bleachers and get all settled in."

You turn to leave him to his own devices, and you feel a gentle pull on your wrist before you can step away. "Wait," he says firmly, the look on his face dead serious. "You're forgetting something."

"You cock your head to the side and try to remember what he could be talking about. When he sees that furrow in your brow, his serious face melts away, revealing that mischievous boyish grin that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. "You forgot my good luck kiss."

"Oh my," you mock gasp, "how could I forget such an important thing?"

He shakes his head, "It's a crime for sure; you'll have to pay double for this infraction."

"I think that can be arranged," you chuckle, closing the short distance between your two bodies and pressing two gentle pecks to his lips. The kiss is brief, but you can still taste the berry-flavored chapstick he put on earlier lingering on his lips.

You pull away and playfully tug down on the hem of his shirt. "Good luck, Mirio," you murmur, nudging him off toward the court where his other teammates are waiting for him.

It's a short walk up a lightweight metal staircase to the raised bleachers. Since these leagues are pretty low profile, there aren't many spectators. You see a few groups of people waiting to play in the next round, but near the back of the bleachers, you spot a familiar-looking head of indigo hair sitting all by themselves.

"Hello, Tamaki," you say, coming over to sit next to your friend. "I didn't know you were on one of the dodgeball teams."

"I'm not," he replies, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth. The heavenly aroma of butter fills your nostrils as you pull your gaze away from the bag he must've gotten from one of the little concession areas in the warehouse. "But someone at my agency wanted to make plans tonight, and I told them I was busy, so I decided to come here so I wasn't lying to them."

"Oh, I get it," you say sympathetically. "But I'm glad you're here. I don't really know anyone else, so it will be nice to have someone to talk to."

He gives you a small smile and tilts his popcorn bag towards you. "Thanks y/n. Here, take some. I saw you were looking at it earlier."

"Thank you," you smile embarrassedly at the realization you are just as sneaky as Mirio. "Was it that obvious?"

"Just a little bit," he says.

Suddenly, you are interrupted by the sound of a rubber ball hitting the wall with a terrifying force. It barrels back at the player who threw it like a boomerang. "Wow, do these balls just not pop?"

"Not usually," Tamaki says. "Since these games are for Pro Heros, the equipment was designed by support specialists to be extra durable. Occasionally, things will break, but it's way less common than with normal equipment."

"I see," you say quietly. Instinctually, your eyes dart over to Mirio in concern, but he looks so genuinely happy stretching and talking with his teammates it gives you a sense of security. If he isn't worried, you shouldn't be either.

A short man in a referee uniform steps up to the side of the court and blows the silver whistle from around his neck. The clear, high-pitched sound echoes off the walls, signaling to the teams of six to take the court.

A line of red rubber balls sit motionless in the center of the court. The players are touching the back walls with just the tips of their fingers as they stare the balls down hungrily as they try to decide which one to go for first.

There is a competitive intensity in the air that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, but when you finally zero in on your boyfriend on the court, he doesn't seem to be at all intimidated.

Instead of the balls or his opponents or anything else game-related, you see that he is looking up in the bleachers right at you. A big, goofy grin rests on his face as he waves up at you enthusiastically.

You laugh and give him a small wave back just as the starting whistle blows, and both teams are off. Mario doesn't run toward the line of ammunition at all; he hangs back and paces across the floor with an open, unassuming posture that basically invites his opponents to chuck a ball at his chest.

It doesn't take long until the first player takes the bait. A woman with plum-colored skin and a long silver ponytail steps up and throws the ball his way with a wicked speed. It has a slight backspin as it barrels toward his face.

It gets closer and closer until he activates his quirk, and it passes harmlessly through his body and hits the wall behind him. If it weren't for the special workout clothes he was wearing, you would worry about him sinking through the ground and popping up completely naked.

"Nice throw," he smiles, crouching slightly to pick up the now harmless ball. "If that had hit me, I would definitely feel that tomorrow." He winds up his throw and slings it across the court with a curve.

The woman dodged just barely, but the man behind her wasn't so lucky. The ball hits one of his spring-loaded knees as he tries to leap out of the way and is sent off by the referee.

"Way to go Mirio." you cheer happily. When the sound of your voice reaches his ear, he can't help but puff out his chest with pride.

'Watch me,' he mouths, stepping into the middle of the court.

"Looks like someone is getting overconfident," Tamaki mutters next to you.

"What do you mean?" you ask as Mirio sneaks a smile your way just as his opponents throw three balls at him at once. Thanks to his quirk, he is basically untouchable. If this whole 'hero thing' doesn't work out, you are sure he will have a promising career in the underground dodgeball circuit.

Because that is totally a real thing.

"Wow, he's incredible," you murmur to Tamaki.

"He is," the hero replies, "but Mirio has a weakness."

"Really?" you ask, struggling to think of how he can lose at this game, "how so?"

"Just watch, you'll see what I mean," he replies, taking a long sip from his water bottle.

And watch you do.

As the game rages on, Mirio's teammates are picked off one by one until Mirio finds himself staring down his opponents. The woman with the silver ponytail and the man with the strength quirk you saw earlier warming up. 2 vs. 1 may not be a fair fight, but you have full faith in your boyfriend.

His evasive maneuvers are professional and practiced. He is so good at dodging, ducking, dipping, diving, and dodging some more until all of the balls on the playing field end up on his side, safely out of his opponent's reach.

With a bright red ball in his hand, you see him wind up his throw, rush to the top of the court, and send it flying through the air with all his might.

But the man from before, smiling in his black leather singlet (which cannot be comfortable), catches the ball with one of his giant hands as if it were a balloon.

Mirio is out.

The ref blows the final whistle, and the match ends.

After shaking hands with each one of his opponents, his smile falls, and he sulks over to you with his head hung low. "Ahhh, I was so close," he groans, plopping down next to you and leaning his sweat-dusted brow on your shoulder.

"But you played so well," you say gently, consoling him. "This is so much fun to watch. Thank you for inviting me."

He perks up and puts his chin on your shoulder. "You had fun?"

You nod and press your lips to his forehead. "So much fun."

Tamaki clears his throat. "You player well, fo you play again?"

"Tamaki, thank you for coming." Mirio smiles, looking over to his best friend. "Yeah, I think we play again after this game. Do you want to play? I think we can add in an extra player."

The indigo-haired man's eyes go wide as he starts to shake his head. "N-no, I can't."

"Why not?" Mirio asks cocking his head to the side."

You watch as Tamaki tries to come up with an excuse. “Because… because…”

"That doesn't sound like a reason to me." you hum thoughtfully.

Mirio claps his hands together. "Perfect, then you'll be playing on my team in the next round."

"We could get ice cream afterward." you offer as the shy hero accepts his fate.

He narrows his eyes. "Fine, I'll play. But you're paying."

"Done," you agree, as your boyfriend looks like he is about to burst from happiness at the idea of playing dodgeball with his best friend.

"This is great!" he exclaims, patting Tamaki on the back. "There's extra clothes in the locker room in the back, go get changed."

"You sound too excited about this," Suneater mumbles as he heads off toward where the locker room must be, with the slightest hint of pep in his step.

Your boyfriend looks at you warmly, his sapphire eyes filled with love as he takes your hand. "Thank you for helping me convince him to play. I think this will be good for him to let loose a bit."

"I think you guys will have fun." you say earnestly, "I can't wait to watch."

Mirio gently pokes your cheeks.

"Hey y/n?"

"Babe?"

"The love of my life?"

You scoff as his enthusiasm brings a smile to your lips. "Yes?"

"If we win the next game can I get two scoops?" he leans in close to you and peppers your face with bribing kisses, your favorite form of currency."

"Mirio, if you win. I'll get you three scoops."

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

#my hero academia mirio #bnha #mha #my hero academia #Mirio x reader #mirio togata x reader #x reader #tamaki amakiji #mirio togata #mha fluff

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lou-struck · 26 days

Text

Up All Night

Belphegor x reader

~Belphie gets splashed with Night Cricket essence and is cursed to hear their calling all through the night.

W.C: 3.5k

Warnings: Brief mention of Obey Me Chapter 16, slight angst, Belphie being crabby and kinda mean since he is tired.

Poor Belphegor can hardly keep his eyes open. It may be the early afternoon, but the Avatar of Sloth just arrived back at the House of Lamination after taking a make-up test at RAD. The reason he had to retake the test was not because he got a poor grade or anything; he just was too tired the day off and chose to sleep through all three of his alarms and, subsequently, the exam.

But now that that's over with, he can finally take his afternoon nap,

His head hangs low as he sluggishly trudges through his home. Searching for the perfect place to rest his head. His favorite cow-printed pillow secure in his arms as he pokes his head into your room.

Much to his disappointment, he sees that you are still out running errands or doing something equally as exhausting. Normally, he would have no problem falling asleep in your bed, but today, he is feeling a bit adventurous.

Today, for some reason. He is home alone which means he is presented with with rare opportunity to fall asleep anywhere.

But where should he go?

Lucifer's office?

Leviathan's Bathtub?

That really comfy carpeted spot in Asmodeus' closet?

All this thinking only tires him out more as he wanders into the quiet living room. And when his violet eyes come to rest on the long plush sofa, he knows what he must do.

'I haven't slept there in a while," he says to himself. His legs feel like they are made of lead as they carry him toward the rose-scented cushions. He doesn't even bother to pay attention to the Akuzon package that rests on the little side table that he passes.

His pillow bumps the table and sends the little package tumbling to the ground. The box rolls a bit, and the sound of breaking glass reaches his ears.

'I hope that wasn't important,' he yawns, shrugging off any concerns he had and plopping down onto the couch and falling into a deep sleep.

Unaware of the nightmare he has created for himself.

The front door had just shut behind you when you heard a shrill screech of horror coming from the living room. Your breath hitches as you drop your floral printed tote bag to the ground and rush towards the sound, magic brimming at your fingers, ready for anything.

But as you rush through the doorway, you see the purple-haired Avatar of Envy on his knees, hunched over a fallen Akuzon package. The magic at your fingers fizzles away, and you sigh, seeing that Belphegor still sleeps comfortably on the couch despite his older brother's meltdown.

"Belphie, what did you do to my package?" Levi screeches, reaching over the couch and shaking his youngest brother roughly from his slumber.

He stretches out like a cat and smacks his lips sleepily as he sits up. "Oh, hey Levi. What's in the box?"

Levi sighs and looks down at the open box. Pulling out what looks to be the neck of a broken bottle. "It was the night cricket essence I ordered, but you broke it."

The Avatar of Sloth looks lazily between the box and his brothers. "Oh? I guess I did. I'm sorry, Levi."

"What's night cricket essence?" You ask, stepping into the room and sitting on the edge of the sofa where Belphie's legs are.

"Night crickets are a special kind of bug known to keep demons up at night; I wanted to put a few drops of their magic into my energy drinks so I can stay up all night to play games."

Your eyes widen at Levi's explanation; the Otaku hardly gets enough sleep as it is; he doesn't need some hardcore magical caffeine supplement to keep him wired. "No, you definitely should not do that, ever."

He crossed his arms and huffs, "It's not like I can anymore. He broke the bottle, and the shop I got it from just got shut down."

"I wonder why?" Belphie chimes in, sitting up just a bit more to grab your hand. Even though you are seated on the same couch as him, he feels like you are too far away.

Levi's face is a deep crimson color and he looks like he is ready to burst. "That's not the point. You broke my package and now I won't be able to play through my new game all in one sitting. Everyone is going to find all the hidden items before me, and I'll look like a complete loser on my server."

"Yeah, that is what will make you look lame." The avatar of sloth quips back with youngest sibling-level sass. You bite the inside of your cheek as you try to keep a straight face and not damage Levi's already fragile ego.

"Anyways," you clear your throat, trying your best to desolate this situation. "Levi, you really shouldn't buy things like that. It could really mess you up. And I hate to see you uncomfortable."

Levi looks at you with a grateful smile. "Oh, Mc, you really do care. Even if I am just a pathetic little shut-in. I'm going to make my avatar in the game look just like you as extra motivation to stay alive." he grins, rushing down the hallway, ready to play his game.

Now alone, you look to Belphie, who looks like he is about to fall back asleep holding on to your hand. "Don't you dare," you scold, taking your hand out of his. "You are on dinner tonight, and you are not sleeping through it again and buying takeout."

"But everyone loves Hell's Kitchen." he yawns, looking at you with a pleading expression.

Standing strong you ignore his puppy dog eyes and give him a knowing look.

"Fine, you win Mc." He sighs, taking your hand. "But you have to help me since it's too tiring for me to do it all on my own." You fight the chuckles as he leads you into the kitchen to be his sous chef for the evening."

Hours later, Belphie finds himself in his bedroom. His stomach is full, his teeth are brushed, and he slips on a cool pair of pajamas.

He may be able to fall asleep anywhere, at any time, in any condition, but it always feels better to slip into something cool and soft against his skin at the end of the day.

Beel emerges from the bathroom, a tired smile on his face as he wipes a bit of toothpaste from his lips with the back of his hand. "The Roasted Cockatrice you made tonight was delicious; you should make it more often, Belphie."

He smiles at the taller demon as he slides under his lavender-scented covers. The softness of his quilted down, embracing him like an old friend. "Thank you, Beel; if you like it so much, I can make it again for you sometime, and you can eat as much as you want."

Beel gives him a big, happy smile as he gets into his bed on the other side of the room. "I think I am going to dream about it tonight."

Belphie laughs as he sets his DDD down on its bedside charging port. "Careful Beel, the last time you dreamt about dinner you ended up eating your pillow in your sleep."

He frowns and looks at his mattress, "I really liked that pillow too," recalling the memory foam pillow you got him from the human world. He sighs and slips into his sheets. "Goodnight Belphie."

"Good night, Beel." With a flick of his wrist, he turns the bedroom light on and lets his head rest against the pillow, ready to head off into dreamland.

Minutes turn to hours as his cool sheets heat up uncomfortably, and the enviable sound of Beel's soft snoring can be heard from the other side of the room.

This feeling of restlessness is unknown to the Avatar of Sloth as he tosses and turns, waiting for sleep to take him, but it never comes…

The next morning, you find yourself at the breakfast table sipping on a chilled glass of freshly pressed blushberry juice and basking in the early morning shenanigans of the Avatars of Sin.

Next to you, Beel is devouring a mountain of protein waffles after what you can assume to be an intense early morning workout.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Mammon sneakily trying to pluck all the blood strawberries out of the communal fruit bowl without anyone catching him. And so far, no one has. Especially since Asmo's flash keeps going off as he takes and retakes pictures of the adorable latte art Satan made for him.

At the table head, Lucifer reads the newspaper, the ghost of a smile on his face as he tries to hide his contentment with this family time.

All of a sudden, Asmo drops his phone and lets out a gasp. "Oh Belphie, what happened to you? You look horrible hon."

Your head snaps to the doorway, and your gut fills with concern as you take in Belphie's appearance. His skin is sickly pale, his hair is ruffled beyond what one would call bedhead, and his usually bright violet eyes are framed by deep dark circles.

Had he slept at all last night?

"Shut up, Asmo," he grumbles, dragging himself to his seat and grabbing the pot of coffee from the center of the table.

You could hear a pin drop in the room as everyone watches him pours an impossibly tall mug for himself. He completely ignores the thick wisps of steam that dance on the lip of the mug and inhales the entirety of the dark roast-like air.

Beel swallows the waffle that had been caught in his throat and gently places a hand on his twin's shoulder "Belphie, are you okay?"

"Does it look like I am okay?" he snaps, jerking his shoulder out of his grasp "I heard you stomping all over the place this morning. It's impossible to get any sleep when I have to listen to you all night long."

Your eyes widen. Did Belphie really just say that to his twin? His favorite being in the three realms? Beel's face falls, and he is about to utter a small apology, but he is interrupted by a firm cough from Lucifer, who sets his newspaper down on the polished table.

"Clearly someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," he says, staring down his youngest brother with a gaze of fiery crimson. "You should think about what you are about to say next, Belphegor, or you will deeply regret it."

"Whatever, you guys aren't worth my energy." he gets up and walks out of the room, leaving the room in uncomfortable silence. You glance over to Lucifer and meet his gaze. His jaw is clenched, but he gives you a nod of encouragement that has you exiting the room to try and find Belphie and figure out what has gotten him so upset.

You don't have to go very far. Belphegor's steps are unenergized and painstakingly slow, allowing you to easily catch up to him in the hallway. Gently, you reach for his hand to stop him.

"Belphie, what is wrong with you?" you ask, "You never get mad at Beel like that."

His gaze narrows, and he rips his hand out of your grasp way harder than he usually would. "Well, maybe if he learned how to function without sounding like a stampede of elephants is marching through the room when I'm trying to sleep, I wouldn't have to get mad at him."

"Belphie…"

"And why did you follow me?" He says, his features twist into a cruel smirk that has you taking a hesitant step backward. "Is the nosy little human trying to make themselves feel all important by getting involved in our business? Why don't you get out of my face and get back to the human world where you belong."

Ouch…

Pain flashes in your gaze and he finally realizes that he went way too far. "Mc, I-i didn't mean it~" he tries to come closer to you, to apologize, but it's too late."

Your reply to him is cold and dismissive. "Just go get some rest Belphegor. You obviously need it." You glare at him and turn to walk back towards the dining room.

"Mc, wait." He tries to call after you, but you're gone. And when you sit back at your seat at the table you notice that your breakfast tastes far less sweet than it did a moment ago.

You have avoided Belphie for the better part of the day, and you have tried not to think of his cruel words. You want to give him time to fix his cranky attitude, but honestly, you don't know if you want to talk to him right now.

It is now way too late in the evening you are hunched over at your desk working on something for RAD when you hear a weak knock on your door. You glance at your little clock. It's 3:45 in the morning.

Who would be knocking on your door at this hour?

You pad across the carpet and open the door slowly to reveal the disheveled (and honestly pathetic-looking) Belpheghor.

"What do you want?" you say, tightening your grip on the door, ready to shut it in his face if he says anything rude, but you freeze when you take in his appearance. He looks worse for wear than he did earlier. Clearly, he did not take your advice and rest earlier.

"Please," he murmurs out. "Please let me in"

He looks so pitiful, your cave; opening the door wider to allow him inside. His head hangs low as he drags his feet across your carpet in a zombie-like fashion.

He slowly sits himself down on the edge of your mattress and stares down at his hands as if there is some kind of apology tattooed on his fingers.

"M'sorry." he mumbles at last, his voice raw from frustration. "After what happened last time… I told myself I would never do anything to hurt you ever again. I just wasn't thinking, and it slipped out."

"Clearly," you huff sourly, still licking your wounds from yesterday morning. "If that's really what you think of me, then that's fine, but Beel doesn't deserve to be snapped at either."

He opens his mouth in protest, "It's not like that; you know how much you mean to me, Mc. I'm just not acting like myself." He looks like he is about to cry, and it tugs at your heartstrings. "It's no excuse, but I'm tired."

"Then how about you just go to fucking sleep already then?" you respond. You may just be a human, but the demons aren't the only ones capable of inflicting hurt.

"Because I can't." he raises his voice, and you flinch under the sharp edge to his voice.

Immediately, he steps back for your comfort. This small act of consideration, even in the heat of the moment, makes you see him not as the monster in your mind but as a piece of your heart.

You think about what he is trying to say.

He can't sleep.

How is that possible?

He is literally the Avatar of Sloth.

One time he fell asleep on a rollercoaster because it took too long of a pause at the top before zooming downward.

"What do you mean you can't sleep?" you ask softly. Your feet move on their own, gently closing the distance between your bodies as you sit down next to him on the edge of your firm mattress. "What's going on Belphie?"

Your proximity is like a weighted blanket to him, and he leans in closer to your touch. "I haven't slept at all since that nap I took two days ago by the fire."

"Two days?"

You may not know the ins and outs of the effects that each brother's sin has on them, but you know that Belphie doesn't just sleep all the time because he wants to; he has to. Two days for him must be agonizing.

Thinking back to the other day you try to think of any little details that may lead you to why the poor demon next to you is unable to catch a wink of sleep.

You remember sitting next to Belphie on the couch…

And Levi was screaming about a package…

The Night Cricket Essence!

"I think I know why you haven't been able to sleep," you say, reaching for your DDD and pulling up your browser. Searching for anything you can about the demonic caffeine supplement thingamabob.

The effects pop up instantly, along with several warnings about the consumption of the product. You make a mental note to talk to Levi about his purchase history later, but you continue to scroll about the product.

"What are you looking at?" Belphie asks, leaning over your shoulder. He is so exhausted he slumps into your side, but you don't mind in the slightest.

"The effects of Night Cricket Essence," you reply. "It says here that you should only add a few drops into a drink to keep you awake, but it must've vaporized when you broke the bottle.

"So I inhaled the whole bottle?" he blinks.

"I think so," you muse; it seems to be the only way to explain how someone as powerful as him could be affected.

"When will it wear off?" he groans, leaning back onto the mattress.

"No clue, sorry. I'll keep looking," you murmur, trying to find some kind of a cure.

You scroll and scroll and scroll until you stumble across something that sounds promising.

If consumed in excess, the effects of Night Cricket Essence may be counteracted with a cup of chamomile tea.

Is that all it takes? A cup of tea?

It's worth a shot

"Come with me, Belphie, I want to try something to help you." Despite his restless exhaustion, your soft voice and kinder eyes are able to coax him onto his feet. He follows you out your bedroom door and into the kitchen.

He sits down at the counter as you scamper about the room, grabbing everything you need to make the both of you a nice cup of tea.

For demons, getting ahold of human world tea is next to impossible, but you had just come back from a trip with Barbatos to stock up on some hard-to-find blends. Chamomile included.

It doesn't take long for the tea kettle to whistle as you pour him a cup. You hand it to him carefully before pouring your own.

"Let's hope this works," you mumble, blowing on your own glass, but he wastes no time. He drinks it desperately, and a few droplets strip down his chin and onto the tabletop.

By the time he comes up for air, the cup is empty, and you know this is an immediate difference in his appearance. His eyes droop, and he looks at you with a sleepy smile.

"Thash goose" he stumbles out. You may not have the same twin telepathy that he and Beel have, but you know what he means as he sets the cup down clumsily.

"How are you feeling?" you ask, sliding around the counter and pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head.

"Tired," he mumbles, tilting his head up so you would kiss his lips. His movements are sluggish, but the sensation of your lips on his is enough to keep him going a bit longer. “Can I has slee in yer ruum?”

"You want to sleep in my room?" you ask, watching as his lids get heavier and heavier.

"Yesh, wanna cuddle."

You smile as he clings onto wakefulness, waiting to hear your answer. "You can stay with me." Your acceptance brings a smile to his face as he sinks onto the tabletop; his head hits the wood with a thud as he finally dips into his well-deserved rest. His soft breathing fills the room as you finish your tea. Once your little tea break is over, you will have to put him on your back and carry him to your room.

Three days later, you are once again at the breakfast table. When Belphie finally emerges from your bedroom looking extremely well rested. The others, having been made aware of the situation, breathe a sigh of relief when he takes a seat next to Beelzebub.

"Good morning Belphie." Beel smiles hesitantly at his twin through his breakfast sandwich.

"I'm sorry for how I acted earlier; I hope you're not too upset with me to go out for lunch."

The smile that appears on Beel's face makes your heart melt as he nods eagerly. "Can Mc come with us too? Food always tastes better when I eat with both of you."

Belphie glances over to you as you nod and directs his attention back to his brother. "I think that can be arranged."

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