sickee feeling sick yet still attending their plans and vomiting in public <33
hi thank u for the ask !! happy 2 comply :)
CW FOR EMETO AND LIGHT NSFW
a feels miserable. their head is pounding so viciously that it’s practically about to explode, their insides are turning dizzily, and they’re pretty sure they’ve developed a low-grade fever at least.
and yet, here they are, at an event that b had dragged them to. they know it’s important to b, but they’re seriously not feeling well. for a moment, a considers asking b to leave early.. but thinks better of it for now. they can tough it out.
desperate to relieve some of the pressure and the nausea whirling around in their stomach, a presses their hand to their mouth. they let out a sickly, wet burp into their hand; and that’s all they’re hoping for, but their face goes pale when bile and undigested fruit (from the fruit bowl, of course) coat their tongue and mouth in a thick layer like poison.
“oh, gross..” a murmurs to themselves, closing their eyes and focusing on the vile substance in their mouth. It’s sour.. and warm.. and sticky, and—
“rrgh-“ they groan, finding that concentrating too hard on the texture of the mess only makes their stomach writhe more violently.
‘no, no, no-‘ they’re thinking to themselves, their hand still pressed desperately to their mouth.
a is completely taken over by nausea, and as they begin to swallow back their stomach’s contents, they’re entirely oblivious to the world around them. the noise, the colors, the scents — they’re all gone, replaced by a dizzying nausea.
just as a manages to force the last bit of bile back down their throat, they can feel a hand on their shoulder and another wrapping around their waist. their eyes snap open to see b, a concerned (but also slightly amused) expression plastered on their face.
“are you okay, honey? you feeling sick?” mumbles b, softly, pressing the back of their palm against a’s forehead—
“ah.. you’re burning up.” b smirks softly, “wanna get to the bathroom?”
b leans in close to a, whispering into their ear.
“or are you just gonna puke on the floor, like the dirty little whore you are?”
a’s face flushes, and they whine, squeezing their legs together in an absentminded response to the heat pooling between their thighs. that was hot.
“I.. I..” a stammers with bated breath, locking eyes with b. their throat works, swallowing convulsively to delay the inevitable.
“it’s okay, baby. just let it out, yeah? you’ll feel so much better..” b croons, combing through the other’s hair as they press closer to a.
b can feel a’s heart pounding, the sweat on their pale skin, and the way their belly is rumbling and churning beneath them. b shudders, their own face heating up a little in response.
“you’re so warm..” b whispers, “c’mon. get it up, honey. for me?”
b’s encouragement is enough. a lets go, allowing b to hold them in place as their knees buckle beneath them. their stomach heaves and sends up wave after wave of warm, lumpy puke. it pools in the floor - it’s covering b’s shoes, and most of a’s outfit. The sticky substance is even coming out of a’s nose.
great. a’s just thrown up on the floor at a professional (and quite gorgeous) venue. this will not be good for their reputation, but just seeing what it’s doing to b..
“good boy/girl~” b coos sweetly, wiping the bile from a’s lips, nose and chin. “but you’ve made a mess of yourself.”
b’s own breaths are slightly shaky as they speak, a lopsided smile on their arousal-flushed face. they can feel their own thighs heating up with desire.
a whimpers, coughing sharply as they lean against b’s chest. b’s warm, soothing chest.
“don’t apologize. that was the hottest thing you’ve ever done..” b grins widely, scooping a up into their arms.
they’d have to leave early, but b isn’t complaining.. because now their partner is a vomit-soaked, sweat-drenched mess - completely at b’s mercy.
with a kiss to a’s head, b whispers again: “you’re so pretty when you’re sick. don’t worry. i’ll help you when we get back home.”
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