"You speak of the moon as if it was pure; And I must enlighten you that I was there the first time you sinned, the times you cried violently in my arms and every night you couldn't sleep overthinking your bad decisions. Don't misunderstand, my lover, as I'm not here to judge. But you see, I'm more of a confidant and an accomplice than anyone else. So go on. Indulge with me."
Minors do not interact. This blog contains nsfw content. Go here.
English is not my first language. Please correct me if you find any mistakes.
·······•✦ description: After a long day, you surprise Rafayel with an attempt at a 'love spell', and he's more than happy to play along with his beloved. [Inspired by 'Tidefall Allure']
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
“This blindfold is ineffective, beloved.” Husky notes turn deeper in his voice, lingering on your skin like the perfume you’ve sprayed on all your pulse points. “I can see the shimmering moonlight, the endless tide, and a goddess in the flesh.”
·······•✦ pairing: rafayel x afab!reader
·······•✦ word count: 3.5k
·······•✦ genre: smut, porn with plot, fluff
·······•✦ general tags: Established Relationship, Lingerie, Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Soft sex, Body Worship, Praise Kink, Scent Kink, Cunnilingus, Multiple Orgasms, Sexual Overstimulation, Aftercare, pet names - beloved, Rafayel is down bad you guys, Vaginal Sex, Come Swallowing, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, Creampie, Praise, Not Beta Read, Missionary Position, Kissing, Gentle Kissing, Neck Kissing, Based loosely on a secret times, Present Day Rafayel, not merman, (perhaps another day), POV Second Person, No use of y/n
·······•✦ posted on: ao3
“What did you have to show me, beloved?” Rafayel’s voice rings out like a bell through his living room, confusion and interest mingled into his words. After a long day of phone calls and staring at a blank canvas, it’s a gentle reprieve to have you in his presence.
“It’s a surprise.” You respond from behind him, your feet tapping on the floor of his bedroom as you toy with the small pearls and gems adorning your outfit. It’s simple lingerie, but the design reminded you so much of Rafayel that you needed to get it. “Close your eyes.”
“They’re closed.” A huff of air comes, and you step out to see the back of his head, fluffy purple hair framing his neck and broad shoulders as he lounges on his couch.
A strip of silk is bunched in your hand, and with bare feet on the tile floor, you’re able to sneak up to right behind him. “I have a love spell… I want to cast on you.”
The sound of your voice right behind him sends a shiver through Rafayel, the warmth of your body almost touching him before you’re dangling the piece of silk. He’s about to argue, because he already loves you, beyond mortal words, but letting you have your fun is part of the excitement, so he nods. “Alright, and what does that entail?”
“First,” the silk hovers just over his eyes, and at the tickle on his nose, his magenta irises make an appearance, “I’m gonna put this blindfold on you.”
“This ritual is very complex…” He teases, the pink silk doing little to nothing to shroud his eyesight. As soon as the tie is tight enough on the back of his head, you walk around to face him.
His legs are parted, an invitation of just your name on his lap as his head nods along the expanse of your body. A flush of pink that almost matches the blindfold paints his cheeks, and you step between his knees, your body so close to him that he can almost hear the soft clinking of the pearls and gems that decorate the lingerie.
“This blindfold is ineffective, beloved.” Husky notes turn deeper in his voice, lingering on your skin like the perfume you’ve sprayed on all your pulse points. “I can see the shimmering moonlight, the endless tide, and a goddess in the flesh.”
Rolling your eyes, you scoff lightly, only to be cut off by his fingers wrapping around your wrist. Your faces are inches apart when he tugs, bringing you down to eye level with him. “What’s this?” He makes an exaggerated sniffing noise, the tip of his nose nudging your jaw. “Are you using this oceanic fragrance to guide me?”
A rush of air escapes you, breaking free from the prison of your lungs that keeps it trapped there. “Well…”
“It should linger in the… appropriate places.” His lips brush the skin of your neck, a featherlight kiss finding a home behind your ear. “From here,” he starts there, and instead of kisses, his nose drags a trail down your neck, your shoulder, your arm, all the way to the inside of your wrist that he holds so reverently. A kiss, and then: “to here.”
Beneath the blindfold, his gaze shifts to your face, taking in the way the moonlight accentuates your beauty. Like a goddess stepping from the shadows, he’s rendered breathless by the senses that overwhelm him in the best way. “Until the scent fully permeates your skin.”
“Even this…” It’s you who is brought to silence, unable to do anything except bend to his will as his hands find a home on your hips, bringing you closer until you're standing straight and looking down at him as if he were a mere devotee to the woman before him. Taking a slow breath in, he lets the scent sit in his mind, bringing him back centuries ago. “It’s a recipe that’s potent enough to ignite a god’s desire.”
Shining blue scales flash across his neck and ears, twinkling like Christmas lights in the night sky. The silk does nothing to stop the pink flash in Rafayel’s eyes as he gives himself to your heart. It’s his, and yet he’s willing to carve out his own chest for whatever you want.
“Your scales are coming out again.” You point out, your fingers carding through his hair. Warmth sits on your skin in the form of his lips along the edge of your panties.
The lingerie, which is a subtle pale blue with adornments of pearls and gems, washes over Rafayel, and his body responds in turn. His instincts as a god can’t ever take over when he’s marveling at such beauty.
“The scales on my body?” He hums against your skin, his tongue poking out to trace each part of your abdomen that his lips can reach. “They appear during certain… special moments.” The silk of the blindfold tickles your hip. “You should know that well, beloved.”
One of his hands wraps around you to settle on the curve of your ass, holding you in such a grip like iron shackles. Unable to move - but you don’t want to move, but also unable to get closer as the fingers tighten on your waist.
Rafayel wants to take his time, his head dipping to kiss the junction of your thigh and hip, right below your panty line, and so close to where you need him. The smacking noises of his lips accompany low moans, as if worshipping you like this was bringing him his own pleasure.
“I do…” You whisper, looking down at his white slacks. Not a drop of paint is on them, and the canvas behind you is completely empty. “I know.”
The statue that sits in the corner of his living room calls out to him, and as he lifts his head, the blindfold slips down his face, curling around his neck in a pink lace necklace. The same beauty that he worshipped so long ago is painted in the small details of your face. The same eyes. The same curve of your nose. The same smile on your lips. It’s all you. It’s always been you.
“Y’know, they come out even more when a particularly devout offering is presented to me.” With his chin perched on your stomach, he stares up at you with glowing pink eyes. The blue is but a sliver of softness that inches in before being swallowed by the magenta hue, not putting up a fight with the crackling pink that highlights his striking beauty.
“And I’m the offering?” More kisses run along your body, his hold tightening and fingers pressing into the flesh of your behind as he inhales your scent. It’s a mix of your natural musk and the sea water fragrance you’ve used, but it’s all a delicious draw.
As if you were a siren and he were a lowly pirate, he nods. “Always.” His attention is directed toward your skin, reverent kisses worshipping every inch of you in a way that you don’t know what’s love and what’s pure desire. “I won’t be taking any other offerings besides the one standing before me.”
Then, he stands. “It’s just you and I here.” The muscles in his arms flex as he picks you up, forcing your legs to wrap around his waist. The pearls clink together with each step he takes toward his bedroom, and his lips find the side of your neck while his palms sit below your thighs. “No one will disturb us.”
The moonlight is brighter in his room, with one wall being completely windows. It’s a frame to the scene before him. You, lying on the bed with the lingerie you bought for him. You, whose heart beats for him. You, who can have him on his knees with just a look.
You, who is his for the rest of eternity. You… His beloved bride.
The blue scales still illuminate his features, the edge of his jaw like a blade that threatens to pierce your skin. His eyes, regarding others with a silent disregard, look down at you with a gentle affection.
“Is this for me?” He asks, his finger dipping under the waistband of your panties.
A nod answers him, and he leans down to kiss right beside the strap of your bra. Without thinking, a light touch brushes his ear, the scales chilly to the touch. It isn’t until he lets out a sharp breath that an apology tumbles from your lips.
“You’re allowed to touch these scales because your attempt succeeded.” He rasps, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tugs on the panties. “Now, I want you to reveal your innermost self to me, beloved.”
“Please…” You whimper, lifting your hips to allow him to strip your lower half of the lingerie. It disappoints him for a moment because you’re so beautiful with the blessings of the sea decorating your body, but he needs all of you.
Lying in the middle of the bed, the ocean waves are the backdrop to your glistening pussy. Heat ignites in Rafayel’s chest, his skin crackling like a hearth that is never-ending flame.
His shoulder anchors your legs, bracketing the scales on the sides of his head. They are the perfect headphones for the breaths and whimpers that erupt from your throat. His heated and gentle kisses start at your knee, strolling up your leg like a bride walking down the aisle.
“Since you’ve awakened the desire that rests deep within this god’s heart…” The pink in his eyes crackles in a fire, each blink bringing him deeper and deeper into that desire you’ve coaxed from him.
The ghost of his lips haunts you, so close to your throbbing need that you want to buck up and chase that pleasure, but you’re held down by his flexing biceps. Each breath fans out across your soaked folds, a lewd noise coming when he parts you with just his thumbs.
His eyes meet yours, swimming in need and desire yet edged in a slow ebbing of devotion. As if you were a painting, he’s brought back to the statue, how similar you are, yet so so different. A masterpiece in the flesh, and Rafayel wants nothing more than to paint more strokes of beauty on your skin.
“He wants to devour you. Now.”
A blink and he’s buried between your legs, eyes closed and throat closing with grunts and groans. His tongue dips into you, collecting your essence and moaning at your taste. Every bit of you is swallowed by him, your moans, your taste, the way your fingers tug at his hair while he traces the ring of muscle fluttering around nothing.
“Raf!” Your back arches, your body trying to run away from his mouth and the ferocity that he devours every inch of you, but you’re anchored to the spot, a pristine chain dragging you down to the depths where you can’t escape. “Fu-”
A satisfied hum runs through your body, and as the soft white light flashes across his furrowed brows, you see a man who is irrevocably dedicated to his beloved. Wanting to show you all facets of pleasure and just what he can give without needing to take.
“No… running… away…” He gasps between long licks to your pussy, the tip of his tongue flicking your throbbing clit over and over again. The sensation of his worship already led you to the edge, and it doesn’t take much until your thighs threaten to crush his head and your back leaves the comfortable sheets below.
There’s no reprieve.
Immediately after the first orgasm hits, he just gets more feral. Like his ebb day but worse, his thoughts muddled and full of just one thing: you. Hearing every noise, feeling every clench of your hole around his tongue, tasting every drop of your arousal that is only for him.
“Raf… Please… Raf-”
Your words are cut off when his lips suction around your clit, the sharp stab of pleasureable overstimulation biting at your ankles. It shoots up your nerves, quickening the beat of your heart like you’re watching a horror movie. It’s too good to look away, but the fear of another jumpscare tenses your muscles.
“Relax, beloved.” He whispers against your pussy, his cheeks slick and chin dripping. “Need to hear… more.”
His voice is more profound, more intense than usual, and you fight back the whine as he eagerly devours you like he said he would. Because he would never go back on his promises.
So he takes another, the waves of the ocean playing a part in the warm waves that lap at your abdomen. It’s more pleasure that ebbs into pain, overstimulation hardening your joints and locking your thighs around his head. But Rafayel doesn’t mind. If his end is brought between your legs, his senses full of you, then it’s a pretty good way to go.
“Rafayel.” His full name rolls off your tongue, lips slick with saliva and throat hoarse from the cacophony of whimpers and noises that play on repeat. “I… I’m- please…”
The sound of your desperate whimpers is like music to his ears, but not when he thinks it’s hurting you. So he raises his head, the entire bottom half of his face shining in the moonlight, highlighting the pleasure that he’s given you three times now.
“Are you okay, beloved?” His eyes are more muted, the flaming pink edging into a soft petal of a flower as his hands soothe the tops of your thighs. The edge in his voice is gone, replaced by worry and the rasp of being down there for some amount of time known only to the moon drifting in the sky.
“Yeah… Yeah…” Your breath fills your lungs once more, trapped there while you trace his features with your gaze. He’s still dressed, the short sleeves of his shirt framing his muscles and the white slacks crumpled from the bed, and you watch in fascination as he unbuttons his shirt, sliding it off. His pants follow, the slow drag of his underwear coming with it and leaving him bare to your eyes.
Rafayel lets you breathe, watching the pearls that accentuate your curves and rest across your abdomen, still hanging from the cups of your bra. When he sits back, he sees the tides behind you, beckoning him closer with their soft crashing on the sand. But he would rather crash into you.
“Can you handle one more?” It’s exploratory, just as his hands are as they rub along the sides of your torso, one slipping behind you to pop the clasp of your bra. Just like that, you’re both bare to each other like you’ve been so many times before, but this god is ready to become a follower himself. “Please?”
A chuckle turns into a gasp as his tip nudges your entrance. Ripples of heat run along your skin, threatening to pull you into an even deeper need, and you’re ready to take the plunge.
You reach out a hand to him, wanting to cup his cheek, but you’re surprised to feel his fingers threading through yours, pressing your clasped hands into the mattress above your head. Once again trapped, you meet Rafayel’s eyes, coming closer until his lips ghost over yours.
“Say it, beloved.” He whispers, his other hand dragging his cock through your folds, a hitch in his breath coming when he feels your hole fluttering around him. “I need you to say it.”
“Yes.” A whisper fans across his lips. “One more… Please.”
Mesmerized by his eyes, you both share a moan as he sheathes himself inside you. From your previous orgasms, the resistance is nothing except a slick glide until he’s nudging the most sensitive spot that rips a whimper from your lungs.
“You’re so…” He pauses, needing to take a breath before catching the words from the lake in his mind. “So beautiful.”
His fingers dance up your side, then your arm, your wrist… Finally, they intertwine with your own and join the other set of hands above your head. You’re entirely at his mercy, caught in the trap of his eyes that pulse with each beat of his heart.
With legs parted, you arch your back, the curve of his cock pressing into you over and over as you beg wordlessly for more. Always more… Forever more.
“I’ve got you, beloved.” He whispers into your parted lips, the slow drag of his hips pulling him almost all the way out. “I’ve always got you.”
Each thrust is another declaration of his love, your essence coating your own lips as he kisses you over and over and over. Melting into one flame, the scales on his neck fade slightly, replaced with the real color of his irises.
He’s Rafayel… He always has been… But it seems like a part of him has awoken, and you tilt your head up to meet him halfway, embracing him with your thighs around his waist, aiding him in each pulse of his hips against yours.
The smooth expanse of his pelvis grinds against your clit, the slow, sensual rutting beginning a trek up a tall mountain. The previous orgasms were a quick drop off a water slide, but this is a lazy river, going around a track until the eventual end where you find yourself satisfied and relaxed all at the same time.
“I love you.” He buries his face in your neck, your scent filling his nose, and whimpers resting on his ears. “I love you so much.”
“Love… you… too.” The snap of his hips comes when he’s only an inch away from being fully inside, bouncing your body up the bed. You would be hanging off the edge if he weren’t holding your arms above your head. “I love you… too.” You manage the whole sentence, and he twitches inside you at the saccharine sweet tone in your voice, despite being ruined over and over by him.
“My beloved.” The whimper is different, his chest heaving with the pull of his head toward yours, wanting to become one. To harden into a gem, sink to the depths of the ocean, never to be seen again.
You’re one. One being. One heart. One soul. Belonging to each other like you were made of the same seafoam, finding one another despite the hardships, and always… Always falling in love.
“Rafayel.” Your head digs into the mattress, the slow trek up the summit leading to the tip of the mountain. Oxygen leaves your body in lesser increments, creating a haze around you that edges into incoherence when you hear Rafayel whimper your name like a prayer.
The tsunami is more of a crashing of waves, and your nerves are frayed with the fourth orgasm that tightens your muscles and wraps Rafayel in a cocoon of warmth. He’s there, inside you, filling you with everything he has to offer.
“Beloved…” He whispers again, his knees shaking as each pump of his seed inside you brings another grunt. Twitches of his cock push him even deeper, until he can feel each bump and pulse of your walls around him. “Fuck.”
Minutes.
In the aftermath of your orgasm, you both lie there. His hands now rest in the dips of your hips, and his body shrouds you from the eyes of the stars up above in the sky. How dare they catch a glimpse of his goddess?
“How are you feeling?” His voice breaks through the silence, cutting through the tranquil sound of the tide.
“Good.” A sigh and a breathless chuckle come when he picks himself up just enough to meet your gaze. “Full, and like jelly… But good.”
Rafayel mimics your chuckle, slotting your lips together in an even more gentle kiss than the rest of the night. He cups your cheek, holding you still while he devours your lips with languid strokes of his tongue against yours.
“Why don’t we take a bath together?” He suggests, his lips brushing yours, because he doesn’t want to pull away too far. “I’ll massage your tense muscles.” The caress of his thumb on your cheekbone soothes you, and you whine when his hips move and his softened length slips from your entrance. “And then you can put that lingerie set back on so I can properly admire my beloved.”
A smile breaks out on your lips. “I wore it for all but ten minutes.”
Sitting up, Rafayel picks you up bridal style, cradling you close to his chest. “Well, can you blame me when you looked like an absolute goddess? I thought I was staring at a statue in the Louvre.”
“You flatter me too much.”
His smile reaches his eyes as he turns the faucet on, and steamy water fills the tub. While he waits, he nuzzles his nose against your cheek, and when he speaks again, each word vibrates his chest like he’s reciting a prayer.
"here's the immensely time consuming 100K word novel-length passion project I'm working on between my real life job and family! It eats up hundreds of hours of my one and only life, causes me emotional harm, and I gain basically nothing from it! Also I put it on the internet for free so anyone can read if they want. Hope you love it!" :)
Heyyyy everyone, I noticed my yappathon about Sylus grinding/dryhumping is getting quite a lot of notes! If you somehow haven’t seen it before reading this one, here it is! Anyways, I’m super happy about the attention that post got, so I decided that I’m going to do another one about my personal favorite aspects about Sylus, which is the fact that THIS MAN EATS!!! Practically confirmed atp thanks to his Affinity Level 145 Secret Times: Midnight Feast.
I’m just going to babble in bullet points again regarding my ideas/opinions about the matter
Let me say this right off the bat, no wild bushes or periods will EVER deter this man from eating it. He does not care about your pubic hair or your period blood getting in his business. As long as you’re comfortable with being hairy or being bloody while he’s eating it, that’s all he cares about, your comfort means everything to him.
He can cum just from eating you out. Just the sole act of servicing you in that type of way gets him UNDONNEEE.
He WILL encourage you to use him if you want to, it’s insanely sexy to him. Just the idea of you bucking your cunt against his tongue and getting your slick all over his lips makes him HARD.
Because of this ^ he especially loves it when you sit on his face. he’d have your ass in his hands like putty while you’re using his beautiful, scrumptious nose as your personal seat. And believe me, no matter how much you weigh this man is STRONG and he WILL let you sit on his face.
He has to be in a position where he can see your face. Eating it from behind isn’t as rewarding to him imo! What’s he supposed to look at if your pretty face isn’t in his view? He wants to see just how good he’s making you feel. His one exception to this is if the two of you are in a 69 position, which he’d never make you do unless if you were willing.
He uses his tongue all over you, swiping it inbetween your folds, dipping it into your entrance, licking your clit, the whole thing is a delicacy and he’s RAVENOUS. That is his main course.
He can be pretty intense about it. He’d take his time at first, but at some point he’d get so into it that you’ll be SQUIRMING trying to kick him off of you. He does NOT PLAY about this shit!
He will be moaning and groaning into it, the taste and smell of your slick arousal is just SO intoxicating to him. He cannot help himself.
Eating you out is his man’s stress relief. You’ll never see another man drop to his knees in front of you faster than Sylus after a tiring and annoyingly long day of work. Once he goes to work on your cunt he’s in a trance, 10/10 distraction method for him AND it’s a win-win for the both of you.
If you’re in a position where your legs can be on his shoulders or wrapped around your head, they’re going to be on his shoulders or wrapped around his head. He likes to be LOCKED IN!
He’s always gripping your thighs or your ass during the deed. He’ll constantly run his hands up and down your legs, especially you’re standing while he’s on his knees.
He loves, loves, LOVES when you hold his head in place and run your fingers through his hair! Please god, play with it while his tongue is working on you, it’s like a personal reward to him.
90% of the time his eyes are locked onto you with a soft and attentive gaze, but during that other 10% his eyes are closed and his eyebrows are slightly furrowed. How cute.
Depending on his mood he’s either down bad and worshipping you OR he’s being very playful and naughty with you. When he’s worshiping you he’s giving you all sorts of kisses, bites and hickeys all down your body while murmuring sweet nothings to you, starting from your head all the way down to your thighs before getting right to action. When he’s being naughty he’s being such a tease, he likes to rile you up physically and verbally to encourage you to take some sort of initiative.
Once you orgasm he is cleaning the mess with his tongue. He will not let you shower or wipe yourself down with a towel until he’s had his fill.
Do not underestimate Mr. Coochiesucker9000 over here.
This is just kind of a yappathon/hc thing about Sylus being a grinding machine, literally dryhumper9000 in TWO fucking cards now. Night of Secrecy and Valleydream Bloom both have kiss scenes where this man is ON TOP of you and MOVING FOWARDS while eating your face (love that for us)
QUICK EDIT: Hi hello I had JUST made another one of these about Sylus eating you out! If you’re interested in reading it, it’s here!
Here’s a wonderful example of what I’m talking about. Anyway, I’m just going to babble about this in bullet points from here. (Believe me, it gets better and more imaginative the more you read my nonsense)
Imagine him putting his WHOLE body weight on you, literally welded against him while he’s grinding into you and kissing you senseless… ‼️
This man is HUGE, he is HEAVY, he is absolutely ENGULFING you when he’s on top and taking initiative
I feel like it’s his favorite thing to do ever. You’re already below him, tf are you supposed to do now? He’s got you trapped for a barrage of kisses and love bites, that’s your new spot for the next few hours!
Breathless and overstimulated. Fulfilled, yet always yearning for more.
I just KNOW he talks to you the whole time too, like you cannot make out anything going around the two of you. He’s got all five of your senses in a dizzy chokehold as he murmurs sweet nothings, praises and his desires while you can hardly think straight.
Oh and he whines and whimpers during it too, there’s just something so primal and intoxicating about it that he doesn’t hold back any of his sounds and words.
I feel like he always gets so needy and eager at first. Like he’s not necessarily going fast, but his hips are kinda snappy to get his point across. On the other hand, his kisses are pretty relentless. ALTHOUGH, as the two of you get so intoxicated and dryhumped out, his actions become more and more lazy but sooooo very passionate.
Your hearts are pounding together as your breathless gasps mingle between insanely languid and lingering kisses, his hips rolling into yours with the same energy as a flame of a candle wick dying out on its own. Giggling and kicking my feet.
Now, while I do think grinding in missionary is his favorite way of going about it, I just know he’s a sucker for you grinding on his lap when you want to have control. Oh my god, don’t get me started, this man is squeezing your ass and the backs of your thighs trying to keep you as close to him as possible.
He probably couldn’t help himself and grind his hips up against yours. Especially when he’s got the skin of your neck/shoulder between his teeth, like he’s scruffing you and keeping you still.
But don’t tease him too much, he’d let you get away with it a few times but if you keep pushing his buttons he will flip you onto your back and tease YOU instead.
THIGH GRINDING, Oh my god no one talks about this, if you want some action on a day where he has no stamina he will gladly let you sit on his thigh and grind against it. Godddd imagine his groggy voice saying things like “Go on, kitten. Keep using me until you’re satisfied. I don’t want you to stop until you get your fill.” While he’s looking you with hazy eyes and massaging your hip(s) or thigh(s). Maybe he’d read a book or drink some wine while he’s at it, give you some kisses here and there to keep you engaged. Or maybe if he’s TOO tired he’ll rest his face against your chest and listen to your rapid heartbeat as your movements rock his head.
Notes: I actually did not expect yall to eat dragon sylus up but here you go.
Click here for my Masterlist
The night the storm came showed that it was no weak, brief storm. It tore through the thick trees scattered across Sylus’s forest with violent howls, shaking the mountains, caves and flooding the valley paths. Sylus had gone out that night, scouring the woods for dry firewood and hunting to feed you. He had told you to stay in the den, the one lined with soft pelts and dragon-warmed stones—but the winds rattled the entrance, and rainwater slipped in through cracks in the cave mouth. You’d tried to keep the fire going, shivering despite your efforts. When Sylus returned, drenched and wild-eyed, you were already curled up in a thick blanket, coughing faintly and sniffling.
Sylus was not a beast who feared much. Not man nor beast nor blade. But the sound of your cough? The paleness of your face? Those sniffles? That made his blood turn to ice. His claws, still wet from the storm, shook as he reached for you. His nostrils flared as he inhaled—too warm. Your body radiated heat, not the kind he loved and purred for in his sleep, but the kind that screamed of fever. His pupils dilated into slits as he stared down at you, a soft rumble building in his throat, protective, panicked.
Sylus wasted no time. The moment he realized you were ill, he sealed the cave with massive boulders from the outside. leaving only a small space for airflow and for him to squeeze through, No more wind. No more water. The den became a fortress. He reinforced it with clawed Fingers and scorching dragonfire. He even wove layers of thick leaves, moss, and hides over the opening to keep the storm’s icy breath away from your fragile human body.
He refused to leave your side. Not even for a minute. Whenever you coughed, his tail curled around you, trying to wrap you in his warmth. When you whimpered in your sleep, he huffed at the shadows. He didn’t sleep, His glowing red eyes stayed locked on you all night, unmoving, his breath shallow as he counted every rise and fall of your chest. Every time your fever spiked, he let out an anguished, low snarl, pressing his forehead to yours as if he could draw the sickness out of you and into himself.
The moment your fever drops, even a little, Sylus melts. You wake up to his heavy head resting against your stomach, wings tucked in and relaxed for once, breath even and calm. He still watches you, but the panic is gone—replaced by exhausted relief. He touches your face gently, claws careful not to scratch. “Better,” he rumbles. “You smell like you again.”
Once you’re well enough to sit up, Sylus becomes twice as clingy. He insists on carrying you to the nearby hot spring he guards in his free-of-humans territory, letting the mineral-rich water soak your muscles. He refuses to let you lift a single rock, fetch a single log, or even touch the cold floor barefoot. He builds a second fire beside the first. Reinforces the den with even more heat-holding stone. Stockpiles on plants that smell like herbs. every time the sky darkens or the wind howls, his body stiffens and he pulls you closer, whispering, “Not again.”
