so to expand on the Barb fluff thing that I’ve mentioned once :D
I know this is quite silly but I used to just click on the green call button in the game when there was nothing new to read from him and if you do that you get a pre recorded voice message from him saying he is busy and can’t pick up, but you know, at least we can hear his voice …
and I was thinking it would be cute if MC did that after going to bed so she can fall asleep listening to his voice, thinking Barbatos won’t pick up the phone for sure, it also must be muted by now… but what if he does😳😳
(giggling like a highschool girl as I typed this fr )
Okay, this got away from me and now we're 4.3k deep so YOLO! (I thoroughly enjoyed this, in case you couldn't tell...) I love this concept so much, I was giggling and kicking my feet while writing it the entire time. Sorry it took so long for me to get to it, but it was a great way to get back into writing Barb!
(yeah I know... I'll fix the title picture later...)
Content: SFW, fluff, flirting; GN!Reader struggles with insomnia
WC: 4,325
—
You couldn’t believe this happened.
How did this happen??
You stared at your DDD in disbelief, the long list of saved voicemails now gone. Vanished.
Every. Single. One.
The stern and personal messages from Lucifer, the chaotic ones from Mammon and Levi, the lengthy, self-absorbed ones from Asmo...
The birthday well-wishes, the gratitude messages, the reminders about dinner, or adding items to the grocery list, RAD assignments... everything from the personal and special to the daily and mundane.
All of it, somehow completely and utterly deleted.
It hurt, losing them. You knew there’d be more in the future; in fact, your phone was always ringing or pinging for one reason or another. But still... it didn’t replace what you’d lost.
And the biggest, hardest loss of all were the voicemails left from Barbatos.
Not as many as the others, seeing as he called you far less than the others did, but their rarity made them all the more precious to you. Especially since those voicemails were the ones you used to help yourself fall asleep. Something about the smooth, resonant timber of Barbatos’s voice, reminding you of an impending quality check on the House of Lamentation, invitation to dinner at the Demon Lord’s Castle, requests for your support to pass on important paperwork, asking you to taste-test his latest experimental desserts... and a happy birthday message. Each one cherished and used frequently to ease your night-time insomnia.
The loss felt like a hole in your chest, and tears brimmed your eyes.
You skimmed through his text messages, revisiting the memories you still had left on your DDD. You liked seeing how they evolved over time, starting out as purely business and slowly transforming into offers and requests of assistance, outings, and kind words. The slow and steady evolution of budding friendship. It helped you cope a little bit with the sudden loss of his voicemails. You tried to mentally put his voice to the words you read, but it simply wasn’t the same. Still, you read through them anyway, laying in your bed with bleary, tired eyes and a faint smile.
You hadn’t realized you dozed off until you woke to the muffled sound of Barbatos’s voicemail coming through the DDD. You froze for a moment, your thumb poised over the red phone icon, but hesitated.
There it was... his voice. Smooth and kind, respectful and professional.
“Thank you for your call. I apologize for not being able to answer after you took the time to call me. I’d hate to inconvenience you but please do call me back at a later time. You have my sincerest thanks.”
You let out a soft, content sigh, but it was quickly stolen by the sound of his voicemail beeping, marking the end of the message and the start of you being recorded.
You quickly hung up, your body flushed and your brain alert. What if he heard you breathing? What if he heard you sigh?
More fears trailed in on the heels of the previous.
What if you’d woken him up? What if he called you back? What if you didn’t wake up a moment ago? It would have recorded you snoring in your sleep. Or worse, talking in your sleep.
Look, you weren’t responsible for what happened in Dreamland, but Barbatos certainly didn’t need to know about it.
It took a while for you to fall asleep that night, your mind replaying scenarios of what-ifs, and dreading the next day when Barbatos would inevitably see your missed call and ask about it.
But at the same time…. it had been nice to hear his voice.
Even if it was just a recording.
---
Sure enough, the next day, Barbatos texted you, mentioning your missed call and asking if everything was alright. You were honest with him. You’d fallen asleep on your phone and that it was an accidental dial; nothing to worry about. You apologized for possibly disturbing him the night before. He accepted your explanation with ease, and explained that it was no trouble at all, since he kept his DDD on Do Not Disturb mode after hours. All calls were silenced, with the exception of Diavolo and Lucifer.
Relief washed through you, cooling your embarrassment. Thank goodness he didn’t ask you about it in person. There would have been no way you could have kept a straight face or given an answer without buckling entirely in front of him, whether in tears or laughter you weren’t sure. It was one thing to admit to falling asleep on your phone while it was on. It was another thing entirely to slip up and tell him - to his face - that you were reading his text messages.
---
Nothing happened for a while after that. You made sure to turn your phone screen off before bed, even if it did make you lay there staring at the dark ceiling for hours afterward, sleep ever the elusive beast. You still looked at the text messages on the particularly rough nights, and they gave some comfort for you, at least for a little while.
But as the time passed, you found yourself not looking at them as often. You nearly had them memorized with how often you reread them. As the satisfaction of the old messages waned, your mind wandered back to the memory of that one night of the accidental phone call. You tried to recall the sound of Barbatos’s voice, the words he said in the voicemail, but the memory of it was cloudy, aged with time.
The dissatisfaction of your imperfect memory only made you ache even more to hear his voice again, the want evolving into a need. The lure of his rich, clear tone in your ear, the promise of it quieting your mind just long enough for you to be able to fall asleep… The thought became a plague upon you, bringing forth a battle of wills within yourself.
Temptation whispered reassurances in your ear.
He won’t answer.
You won’t wake him up or disturb him.
It’s okay, just call him. Let it ring.
But logic was quick on its heels.
Even if he doesn’t answer, he’ll notice your missed call.
He’ll ask you about it again.
What will be your excuse this time?
No, you told yourself. The risk was too great, the draw of his attention making you vulnerable in a way that you weren’t ready for just yet. After all, it didn’t take much self-reflection to figure out why his voice, above all others, was the one you wanted to hear each night, or why his text messages were the ones you had memorized.
No, it wasn’t worth giving in to. You’d have to learn to be content with the memory of it, and nothing more.
But time had a way of greying your recollection, blurring the edges like an old photograph. It faded the memory of your embarrassment as well, when he’d first texted you for an explanation. Had it really been that bad? Was the risk really so great? Barbatos had accepted your explanation whole-heartedly, not a hint of doubt in his responses. Surely he would understand it again, so long as you were careful in your approach. To be honest, he probably wouldn’t even think twice about it. After all, the last one had been weeks ago, and his own duties and hobbies kept him perpetually busy. He probably didn’t even remember.
As midnight peace slipped farther and farther from your reach, you found yourself once again staring at Barbatos’s phone number in your contacts list.
Maybe just once more. Just to refresh your memory.
Besides. It wasn’t like you were going to make a habit of it...
---
You had told yourself that months ago in your foolish desperation. But you should have known better. It was impossible to only give in to temptation once.
Now? Now, it was almost like a ritual.
Ritual, but not entirely a routine. You had to keep your calls sporadically placed, lest Barbatos grow suspicious of your sudden uptick in frequent missed calls after the late hour of midnight. It forced you to keep the ‘accidents’ spaced apart at random intervals, much to your chagrin. But, being able to hear his voice on occasion was better than nothing at all.
Barbatos had asked again after the second call, but your assurance was softened by your confession that you stay up each night reading old text messages from everyone to help you sleep, and occasionally forget to turn off your phone when you’re done. The admission toed a dangerous line to giving away too much information, mainly that it was his messages you read regularly. But the half-truth provided just enough information to excuse your repeated, but sporadic, late night ‘errors,’ and helped to set a preemptive expectation should future mishaps occur.
Which, of course, they did.
And much to your pleasant surprise, it worked. Your explanation had apparently been effective, because after that second incident, Barbatos no longer asked about your missed late-night calls.
The victory left you feeling giddy with success, a masterfully woven solution to meet your own needs while also keeping him - and your own heart - at arm’s distance.
---
Tonight was just like any other. A perusing of the text chains, followed by a late-night call to Barbatos’s voicemail. It had been going on for so long now, weeks blurring into months.
Which should have been your first clue.
Your second, should have been how second nature the activity had become.
Because once something becomes a habit, complacency isn’t far behind.
The phone rang like it always did. Once. Twice. You knew by the fifth ring, Barbatos’s voicemail would automatically answer.
Three, Four-
“Good evening, MC.”
You froze, eyes wide, your breath caught in your throat so spontaneously that your lungs were already burning for air.
It was his voice. But not a recording. No. It was him.
Barbatos answered the fucking phone.
“...Hello?” he ventured.
You hung up immediately and threw your phone onto your bed. Your hands covered your mouth, your skin burning, burning—
BZZZZZZT.
BZZZZZZT.
Your DDD screen lit up, a picture of Barbatos’s contact icon appearing.
He was calling you back.
‘FUCK.’
‘FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUUUUUUCK.’
You silenced the call, sending it automatically to voicemail.
Tears stung your eyes, your heart pounded in your chest like a jackhammer.
How? Why?? He never answered! Never.
A moment later, it rang again. Again, you sent him to voicemail.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. He obviously knew you were wide awake, now. It would have been better to let it ring and go to voicemail all on its own.
But, you realized, that wouldn’t make a bit of difference. He knew you were awake as soon as you hung up on him.
A minute passed, and you hoped, prayed he’d given up.
Just as you began reaching for your phone, the familiar short buzz-buzz of a text message vibrated your DDD on the bed. You retracted your hand as if it were a living creature. You had half a mind to ignore it completely, but you knew that you would literally sit there and stare at it all night if you didn’t look at it.
Tentatively, you picked up your phone. It wasn’t a text message, but an audio file sent to you. You hesitated briefly before pressing play.
“Please pick up,” his voice pleaded. The sound of him made you weak in the knees, and you were glad you were sitting on your bed.
You shook your head ‘no’ as if he could see you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to type the word. It felt too... mean.
Instead, you let yourself sit in your cowardice.
Three black dots appeared on the screen, and you waited with abated breath. The dots vanished, and your heart sank slightly. Then they reappeared, bringing a strange mixture of relief and dread. Finally, Barbatos’s message came through, text this time.
“I would very much like to talk with you, please. I will call one more time. Please answer.”
Goddamn it, why did he have to say it like that? Why did he have to be so, so.... nice?
True to his word, your phone began to buzz again, and you stared at his picture through tear-blurred eyes. Once, twice...
You touched the green phone icon.
A heartbeat of silence, as you waited, unable to speak.
“Hello?”
His voice, tentative, calm. A testing of the waters.
The silence stretched longer and longer as you tried to force your shame back long enough to speak without breaking. You swallowed your trepidation, once, twice, blinking away the unshed tears, although your chest still felt tight and your skin like fire.
“Uh... hi,” you finally muttered.
A muffled sigh of relief, likely exhaled through his nose. “Thank you for answering.”
“Yeah, well... you were persistent.”
“My apologies. It felt necessary.”
Embarrassment and curiosity warred within you. “Why?”
Another long, awkward pause. The connection between you, linked by technology and magic, was thick with unspoken words.
“Because,” Barbatos finally replied, “I have missed too many of your calls.”
You bit your lip in silence and curled your body into itself as you squeezed your eyes shut. “No. You didn’t. You...” a brief inhale and exhale, taming your nerves. “You weren’t supposed to answer.”
“Why not?”
Ah, here it was – the unavoidable truth. The crux of the conversation arrived faster than you’d hoped.
You opened your mouth to speak, but couldn’t translate your deeply buried truth into words. It was silly of you, you knew that. It wasn’t like he didn’t figure it all out by now. Why else would he have answered? He obviously knew your calls weren’t accidents, and that they were occurring during a time that he wasn’t supposed to answer. But the fact that you had to say it? Out loud? It was your worst nightmare come to life.
Fortunately for you, Barbatos volunteered to fill the lengthening quiet between you.
“I do not ask with the intent to shame,” he said softly. “It is simply curiosity. I know what I have observed, but to be quite honest, I have yet to fully understand why.”
He didn’t understand…? You thought it was obvious at this point, and Barbatos was anything but obtuse. Perhaps he was offering an olive branch out of kindness, a chance for you to explain yourself in such a way that wouldn’t result in you packing your bags and fleeing the Devildom in a vain attempt to outrun your humiliation.
You needed to know exactly what he knew, what he suspected… only then could you navigate this minefield of confessions and apologies and hope to come out the other side with some semblance of a friendship still intact.
You swallowed. “What? What have you observed?”
Another pregnant pause, followed by his deep breath; a mental preparation that you felt deep in your bones.
“You call me only in the late evenings,” he said. “The spacing seemed random at first, but as it went on, I noticed it never went longer than five days. You claimed before that it only occurred when you accidentally fell asleep, and yet there was never a voicemail left, even a silent one had you truly been asleep. And, most notably, I seem to be the only one you accidentally call.”
Every inch of you burned, and you were sure this was your first experience of Hell. Maybe you had died in your sleep and didn’t realize it...
With nowhere left to hide, the only thing you had remaining in your arsenal was groveling.
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t want to bother you...”
“I know,” he replied. “So, please tell me... why do you call me late at night? And why do you not want me to answer? You clearly desire to reach out to me, and yet don’t want to disturb me. I worry there is something you’ve been meaning to say to me, but for some reason, have not been able to.”
“It’s not that, honestly,” you mumbled. “It’s nothing specific. I just...”
Barbatos remained quiet on the other end while you bit your lip in an effort to build up your courage. When you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper.
“I... have trouble... sleeping sometimes. When I do, I like to call you, just to hear your voice.”
“My voice?” for the first time, he sounded genuinely surprised.
“Yeah,” you mumbled. “It’s soothing. For me, at least.” Panic bloomed again, and your next words came out in a rush. “I- I didn’t mean for it to turn into this. I used to listen to your voicemails before, but I lost all of them somehow. And that first night, when it happened, it really was an accident. But then I missed you, and...”
Your words faltered as quickly as they came as soon as you realized you’d said too much. You groaned and put your face in your hand.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t- I should probably go. This is so embarrassing, honestly...”
A heavy silence followed, and tears brimmed your eyes at the sudden invisible wall that seemed to be at the other end of the line. But just as you began to lower the phone from your ear, he spoke.
“You listened to my voicemails?”
Your phone was back at your ear, a fish caught on a line.
“....yeah.”
“How often?”
“What? I mean, not that often, I- I- just when I couldn’t sleep, that’s all...”
Shut up, shut up, shut up! You were the worst liar....
Barbatos hummed thoughtfully. “I see. So, tonight you called because you couldn’t sleep?”
You sighed. “Yeah.”
“And you simply wanted to hear my voice. On my voicemail, I presume, since you lost my previous messages.”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“How often do you have trouble sleeping?”
You sighed in tired defeat. “Almost every night. It’s just always been like that.”
“But you don’t call me every night.”
“Well, no... I was trying to be subtle. I only did it when I felt I really needed it. I didn’t want you to know, remember? We see how well that went.”
Barbatos chuckled, light and playful.
“Indeed,” he teased. “But when you had my old voicemails, you listened to them regularly?”
You sputtered and stumbled. “Well, I mean, not all the time, but yeah…”
“When you couldn’t sleep?”
“Yeah.”
“Which was nearly every night.”
You frowned, realizing the circles he just ran around you. “Hey. You need to stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Doing the thing.”
“What thing?”
“The thing where you get me to say more than I mean to.”
“I do no such thing.”
“Now you’re gaslighting me, too. And here I thought you were nothing but green flags.”
“I… I have no idea what those human terms mean.”
You couldn’t suppress your chuckle. “I’m saying you’re teasing me. At my expense, no less.”
“I am merely ensuring I have all of the information correct.”
“Why?” you huffed.
“Because,” he replied, “I deserve honesty. You had two prior opportunities to tell me the truth, and you opted not to. I wanted to know why.”
“Well, now you know. I hope you’re happy.”
There was the sound of shuffling fabric, as if he reclined in his seat or his bed. “I am, actually.”
You grumbled under your breath.
Barbatos continued. “I must say, I’m flattered that the sound of my voice can bring you such comfort.”
Your skin warmed for a different reason, and you scoffed. “Please. Now you’re just being polite.”
Barbato’s voice immediately lost its playfulness. “Pardon?”
You stared down at your bedding, picking at the lint. “Thank you for being kind, Barbatos. But I don’t want you to lie to me.”
“I am not lying,” he countered calmly. “On the contrary, it pleases me.”
A ringing filled your ears and then faded as you felt the head rush of his words in your mind.
“It- It does? You don’t find it... uncomfortable?”
A quiet pause. When he spoke, his tone was soft and colored with disappointment.
“The only discomfort I have is the realization that I have not been there for you when you have apparently needed me.”
Guilt gnawed at you. “No, that’s not what...” you sighed. “You’re not responsible for taking care of me, Barbatos. I would never expect that of you.”
“Hmm.” He hummed. his voice softened even further, barely above a whisper. “But... what if I wanted to be?”
Your fingers stopped fidgeting, and suddenly it felt like he was there, in the room with you, the distance of your physical bodies having no bearing on the deepening intimacy happening in real time.
“What?”
“What if I wanted to be responsible for you?”
Surely, he didn’t mean it the way it sounded, like... like....
“You don’t—I mean, you already have Diavolo, and the Little Ds, and RAD duties... I could never... I don’t want to be another chore for you.”
“You misunderstand me,” he replied. “Not a chore, but a desire. I would much rather you speak to me directly during your times of loneliness rather than a lifeless voicemail.” He paused, hesitant. “That is, unless... unless I have misunderstood, in which case I’ll will ensure to no longer answer so that you may—”
“No!” you interrupted, your voice far too loud, and far too eager for such a late hour. You winced and your next words came out in a hushed whisper. “Sorry, no, no. I’d love that, actually. But only... only if you’re really okay with it. I want a friend, not a butler.”
A quiet awareness drifted across the connection. When Barbatos spoke, his voice was calm but firm.
“Despite what many think, I am granted time off where I can be simply myself. The late-night hours, after Diavolo retreats to his quarters, are such a time. Were my intent only professional, I would not be offering you the availability of my private evenings.”
“So... you’re saying we’re friends.”
Another brief pause told you that you had him miffed.
“I had thought that much was obvious. If it wasn’t, then it appears I have far more to mend than I previously thought.”
You worried your lip between your teeth and furrowed your brow. “I’d only be okay with it if you promise to reach out to me too, if you ever need it. I want to be here for you too. Because we’re friends.”
He chuckled. “You have been there for me, more than you apparently realize. I will expect nothing less moving forward.”
“Good. Then I accept.”
“Wonderful. I will make the necessary changes to my device post haste.”
“Post haste?”
“Yes. I will not miss another late-night call from you, starting immediately.”
“Well, unless you have business or an emergency or something...” you replied with a grin. “Let’s be realistic.”
“I am glad you understand the complicated nature of my work. But even then, I will do my utmost best to reply as soon as I am able.”
Tears brimmed your eyes.
“Barbatos...”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
You could sense his smile even though he wasn’t physically with you.
“You’re welcome. Do you feel less lonely now?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”
You opened your mouth for an automatic yes, but closed it. When you opened it again, you spoke truthfully. “To be honest, I’m not sure. I think this whole conversation got my heart racing a bit fast.”
Barbatos hummed. “I see. I seem to have made your situation worse, then.”
You giggled. “Maybe a little. But in a good way, and just for tonight.”
The rich sound of his chuckle met your ear. “Indeed. I must confess, I am also feeling similarly.” There was a brief pause before he spoke again. “May I be so bold as to suggest an outing?”
“Now??”
“Yes.”
“Where to?”
“There is a new dessert shop that I have been interested in trying that is open all night. Perhaps a sweet treat is in order, to celebrate this new stage of… friendship.”
You smiled and swung your legs over the edge of your bed. “I’d like that. I need to get dressed though.”
“As do I.”
“What’s the address? I’ll meet you there.”
“And have you walk the streets of the Devildom at night alone? I think not. I will meet you outside the gates of the House of Lamentation.”
“Ooooh, a personal escort. How fancy.”
Barbatos chuckled. “I am off the clock, remember?”
You began pulling out a change of clothes for yourself.
“Yes, but you’re still a gentleman.”
“All personal escorts are gentlemen, but not all gentlemen are personal escorts,” he teased.
You laughed. “You have a point there. Okay then, just a casual stroll between two friends.”
“Much better.”
“But not as fancy,” you pouted. You set your phone down on your dresser and began to change.
Barbatos chuckled again. “Do you know why it’s better to walk with a friend rather than butler?”
“I get to say bad words?”
“Close, but no. But also, something tells me that wouldn’t stop you.”
“True. Hmm,” you tapped your finger to your chin. “I get to tell dirty jokes?”
“Intriguing. That topic will most definitely be revisited when I get there.”
“Prepare to be disappointed. My dirty humor may be too low brow for you.”
“We clearly have much to learn about each other.”
“Did I at least get it right?”
“No.”
“Well then I’m out of ideas.”
“Because,” he finally replied, “friends get to hold hands.”
“I didn’t realize that was something ‘friends’ did.”
“That entirely depends on the friends.”
Your cheeks grew hot as you pulled on your socks. “Is that something you want, Barbatos?”
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t.”
“Can friends hug, too?” you asked playfully.
“Perhaps that is something you should see for yourself.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“I’m here. Come down when you’re ready.”
