warm sheets on cold skin - Reader/Belphegor (Obey Me)
100 assorted prompts attempt masterlist
It’s always hard dealing with the avatars when they’re succumbing to their sin. Though, all in all, dealing with Belphie’s is comparatively less of a hazard than the others. Silver linings. To counter that good fortune, however, you two are the only ones present, and the seventh avatar is completely unresponsive. To make matters worse, he’s conscious. Just refuses to move or even acknowledge your presence beyond the random annoyed flick of his tail when you poke or prod in a failed attempt to get him to move.
“Belphie,” you try again, nudging the back of his hip with your foot, “please get up. It’s freezing out here…”
He doesn’t move an inch. Doesn’t even turn further away or curl into a tighter ball like he normally would when wanting to lounge longer. He just lays there in the grass, tail jerking away when you reach out to tug at it.
“You can’t just stay out here.” He’s so lucky you’re unable to lift him or else would have already dragged his ass back inside and dumped the youngest in his own bed. “What if you get sick!?”
Still nothing. It’s apparently you just wasting your breath, and without Beel around, it seems like your options are very limited.
“Fine,” you huff, turning away and making your way back inside. It’s not that you want to leave Belphie outside, but he’s not giving you any other choice but to adapt around his immobility. In the dryer, the blankets and sheets you’d put in earlier are almost too warm to be comfortable, but you know it won’t last long. You roll them up to make carrying them easier, and with his favorite pillow tucked up under your arm, then head back outside.
Not so surprisingly, he’s still there. Still in that same position, and still not looking any more ready to move than he did before.
“Since you’re not gonna come inside to get warm,” you say as your announcement while stooping over to lift his head. Belphegor growls, or at least makes some sort of noise akin to the notion, as you drop his head on the pillow. “I’ll just have to keep you warm until you feel like moving.” With flourish he doesn’t even see, you flip out the first blanket, then the second, and the third, spreading them all out overtop him. Undoubtedly, the added warmth from the dryer fans out over him, but you know that heat won’t last, so as the final touch, you lift the edges and quickly slide beneath too. There’s about ten thousand more comfortable places you can think of to lay, and the cold ground is definitely not one of those, but you make do; curling around Belphie’s back and hooking your arm around his ribs.
How long the two of you lay out there is undeterminable. Somehow, it doesn’t get too cold to stand, and you even catch yourself drifting off every now and then in the presence of Sloth. Fighting to stay awake in case Belphie needs you becomes increasingly difficult, however, and eventually you give up, burying your cold nose against his back as you hug him closer.
Distantly, on the edge of awareness, you’re not sure if you dream it; the feeling of fingertips tracing the shape of your hand before fingers intertwine with yours in a lazy grip. You squeeze back, just to be sure, but sleep finally overtakes you.
