Sylus starts to feel sick at a buisness meeting so he calls you to come pick him up.
TW: emetophobia warning!!! Graphic!!
I wrote this in one sitting, barely revised.
Imagine.. Sylus at a buisness meeting but he starts to feel queasy. He ignores it at first, not breaking his character as the feared crime lord but after around an hour he starts to sweat, skin feeling clammy and a little cold which is very unusual for him.
His neatly tailored suit feeling too tight so he nonchalantly adjusts his tie to unloosen it a bit as if that will help.
He checks his phone, sees a text from you about coming over later and he decides to tell you that he might not be able to hang out tonight.
His wording was off and you pick up on it immediately that something might be wrong. You know he would have told you if it was a serious issue so you pretend to except his change of plans and decide to just meet him at his place to see if he's okay.
The meeting finally ends and by this time the leader of Onychinus is near trembling with nausea. He slips into a single stall bathroom to splash water on his face but once he looks in the mirror he knows beyond a doubt that something isn't right. His face was damp with a thin sheen of sweat, dark circles under his eyes as if his body was working overtime.
A churning sensation in his gut makes a gag threaten his throat but he swallows against it, he needed to get his shit together and get home where he could ride this out in privacy. He decides to sip water from the tap as a desperate attempt to dampen the urge to cough and retch but the moment it goes down his insides swire with regret.
A near silent heave wracks him, making him brace on the mirror with one hand as a gush of liquid flows out of him with force. He realizes he probably won't be able to drive himself home like this and he had traveled alone since this particular meeting didn't require him to have any subordinates with him. He could ask Luke and Kieran but he knew that would likely make fun of him, and honestly he doesn't blame them, their mischif is a highlight of his life with them. He decides to order them to take his motorcycle home and he calls you after a few minutes of stuggling to regain his composure.
His voice was rough when you answered, you were immediately worried. "Sylus... my love are you okay.?"
"I need you to meet me at the hotel.. the same one we met at two weeks ago. I need a ride home... you can use one of the cars at Onychinus." he didn't have the energy to come up with an excuse and honestly as horrible as he felt right now, he didnt want to.
"Okay, I can be there in a half hour. Are you okay..? You avoided the question..." you didn't think he was injured, he just sounded.. tired? Maybe drunk? You had never heard him like this before.
"I'm just not feeling well.. I want you with me." He mumbles as he sits down on the floor leaned back on the door to wait for you.
"Okay love.. I'll be there as quick as possible." You hang up and immediately rush to his mansion, you were already waiting nearby for him to get home so it didn't take long at all for you to be on your way to the hotel in one of Sylus’s vintage cars.
It didn't seem like long for you but for the dragon waiting it felt like an eternity.
Sylus had his phone in one hand, one knee up with his forhead resting on it as he focuses on breathing slowly. His stomach in knots and he can feel a fever coming on, trembling slightly and starting to get dizzy. He doesn't normally get sick, but that doesn't mean its impossible. Even fiends can catch the flu. He just hopes he can keep you from getting it as well, even though the thought of being in bed with you recovering from a mundane virus sounds like a poor use of a vacation but a vacation nonetheless.
Sylus feels his phone vibrate in his hand and sees a text from you saying you're here. The room spins a bit when he stands and he swallows back a soft gag. "Fuck.." he whispers, quickly moving back to the sink as a second round of sickness pulls him under. His phone buzzes with a call this time, he can't answer right this so he manages to send a quick text to tell you to wait a second.
A few minutes later he splashes water on his face and blows his nose, he was feeling even worse now. He didn't even have the energy to feel nervous about you seeing him like this, he knows he's safe with you and that you'll take care of him without judgement.
When he opens the door to leave the bathroom he notices that his whole body feels heavy, he spots you in the lobby staring at your phone. You look up and the worry in your brows immediately tightens.
"Come on, love lets get you home..." you speak softly to him, taking his hand and leading him out to the parking lot where the vehicle waits. "You're burning up... is it the aether core.?" You ask, looking up at him when you reach the vehicle. You cup his face and gently peer into his eyes.
"No.. I'm just sick, Kitten..." sylus whispers, his eyes glossy and feverish. He looked so uncomfortable.
You take your phone out and request the next couple days off. "I'm staying with you until you feel better." It wasn't a request, you were not leaving his side until he was okay again.
Sylus manages a smile and shrugs. "I won't argue with a pretty lady who wants to spoil me..." he mumbles as he reluctantly gets in the car, knowing the ride would likely be unpleasant.
You drive carefully, resting a hand on his arm and gently rubbing your thumb on the heated skin. You can feel him shaking slightly. "Why didnt you tell me sooner... I don't like the idea of you being alone with a fever.."
Sylus doesn't answer, he just laces his fingers with yours and squeezes gently as if he was lost in thought or just feeling too horrible to speak.
His throat clicks with a forced swallow and you glance over at him, his face was buried in his arm against the window that he had just rolled down a bit.
"Sy..?" You whisper.
He shakes his head, managing to mutter. "Just drive please..." he sounded so weak and vulnerable that it made your chest ache.
"Okay.." you focus on driving, unable to ignore the way his breathing shakes a bit and he was swallowing every few seconds.
"we're almost home.." you speak softly as you turn onto the road to Onychinus's base, only a couple more minutes now. It's become clear to you now that your poor dragon had been throwing up and thats why he asked you to pick him up. A soft smile graces your face knowing that you were what he wanted when he was sick.
The vehicle pulls into the garage and the doors slide down you turn the engine off, deciding to get out of the car quickly to open the car door for him not wanting him to have to move anymore than nessisary.
You take his hand and pull him up gently, he leans on you a bit and groans softly. Your brows furrow. "Shh... its okay.. we're home now.." you whisper.
Sylus's stomach lurches before even making it all the way inside the mansion, barely making it to a trash bin in the garage before a torrent of fluid spews out of him. He coughs hard and gags, his breathing ragged as he braces himself against a steel table against the wall. "Mmh..." a soft whine leaves him and your heart twists.
"Its okay... ive got you love.." you whisper softly, rubbing his back gently as he braces for the next wave. "Breathe slow... its just us here.." your soft words and voice help him relax a bit, a shiver runs through him and the nausea creasts again.
A rough, wet sound tears from him that makes goosebumps prickle on your skin, his free hand grips your arm as back to back gags and heaves bring up everything he's been fighting to hold down since he got into the car.
You step over to the desk and grab a few tissues and come back just as a dry heave wracks him. Your gaze softens and you gently wipe the spit off of his face and your thumb brushes a tear that escaped from the effort of being violently sick.
He sniffles, coughing a couple times and spitting into the trash can before he wraps his arms around you and buries his burning face into the crook of your neck. "Thanks love.." he mumbles, slumping against you a bit and you have to force yourself to hold his weight.
"Come on... lets get you to bed... I'll stay right by your side until this passes.." you whisper, kissing his cheek gently not caring if he will pass you a virus.
Your love for him overshadows everything else, all that mattered to you right now was nursing your dragon back to health.
LADS x reader sickfic series, part 2 (part 1, Sylus & Wine here)
In my eyes, indisposed: Zayne & Hives
Ao3 if you prefer
“It's nice to see you're on time today.”
You hummed in response, lifted yourself onto the exam table.
Zayne stood from his desk and grabbed the stethoscope. “You look tired. Is something troubling you?”
You shook your head once with an eyeroll.
“Well, it's fine if you don't want to talk about it. Just remember to breathe this time.”
You tried not to hold your breath, to be good and get this over with so you could curl up under the blankets on your own bed as soon as possible.
It was easier that way.
Did he take this long to listen to every one of his patients? Probably. Always an overachiever.
And really, heart complications were the least of your issues these days. You were different, special, could handle it.
Or so they said.
Zayne pulled the diaphragm away from the thin fabric of your shirt, stethoscope wrapped around his neck like a snake.
He didn't look satisfied.
“I'm ordering an EKG,” he decided. “Open your shirt down to here and lie in a supine position.”
You squinted.
“That means on your back.”
Really, you didn't expect the test to be run immediately, or that he'd do it himself. Wasn't that a technician's job?
He was always doing that. Playing chess with patients or accompanying them to scans.
You supposed this was no different.
Squinted your eyes against the harsh ceiling light, fumbled with buttons until the center of your chest exposed.
It was a short, painless procedure. Just a few electrodes stuck to the skin of your chest, waveforms printed on a sheet.
He didn't look satisfied with that, either.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, beginning to peel the things off for you. “Burning, maybe? An itch?”
You shook your head, brows furrowed.
“How far does this go?” The pads of his fingers trailed across your chest, which felt… odd. Like the skin had taken on a strange texture. Bumpy and sensitive.
You looked down.
How hadn't you noticed?
Sitting up, you pulled your tits out one by one. Each was utterly covered. Dots even spammed the areolas. Maybe your bra was the culprit? When was the last time you washed it?
“I'll bring a gown, you can change into it.” His steps faded and you pulled the shirt off over your head.
The rash didn't end there, all the way down your abdomen and… down your arms, too.
There was fear in your eyes when he stepped in, down to your panties and at least the gown was soft and a nice color. But you couldn't worry about that. Not when…
The bumps were down your thighs, along the pantyline as if razorburn. But you hadn't shaved recently. Pulling them to the side, it was clear. You had a nice bush growing, but the red dots were under that, too.
“What? I've never seen you so afraid. Why this?”
“Caught some rare disease, didn't I,” you murmured.
“No, I don't think so. But that's not my domain, so we'll ask a dermatologist— They might refer you to an allergist instead.”
You groaned and rubbed your forehead. This was supposed to be a simple check-up. Just listen to your heart, scold you a little, and then you could leave. Not so much talking or socializing or dishing out more things that were apparently wrong with you.
“You're not well. Let them help you.”
You just glared up at him. Angry at the beautiful color behind his glasses until it melted the shards in your heart just a little.
“It's just water,” he reassured, handing over a paper cup. “Now, what has you on edge?”
You knew it would hurt, anyway.
Feeding yourself was torture. Hunting was a fine distraction.
It must have shown that you let yourself get dehydrated. But you couldn't deny the thirst, couldn't suffocate under his stare any longer.
You threw it back like a shot, tried not to let your face twist though it stung.
“So you are in pain,” Zayne called you out on it.
“It's nothing,” you muttered, trying to keep your jaw mostly still. Opening it was like opening a wound.
He sighed, “Where does it hurt?”
You felt like a bad pet caught with some forbidden toy. Touched the corner of your jaw with two fingers, noticing how different it felt, thick and plush. Was it visibly swollen, too?
You hadn't let yourself check in the mirror. Just a quick glance and it was out the door.
“Do you know why?”
“Wisdom tooth. It… does this, sometimes. Breaking through.”
You don't know how long it's been. Going on for years, with so much time in between you'd forget about it ever happening. But each episode was getting worse, longer than the previous.
This one had lasted several weeks already, if you had to guess, and hadn't sealed itself shut yet.
You don't want him to see it, to look in your mouth and find the gaping crevice, or maybe two if they'd managed to close a gap, that tore through your gums all the way up the skin behind them. Maybe even to the top row. It would be difficult to see yourself, and not worth the view.
“Well, that explains it. Without enough food and sleep, you've been running on adrenaline.”
And you were crashing.
If this was just stress hives, cortisol from pain wrecking your skin, would they make you see an oral surgeon next?
“Zayne,” you breathed, grabbing his wrist, though your grip was loose. “Stay with me.”
“Of course.” But he did go on to threaten that if you couldn't feed yourself, then someone else would have to do it. Via fluids through your vein or an NG tube from nose to stomach.
You grimaced and let him refill the cup.
“Or,” he offered, “When the exam is done, maybe you can take care of yourself with the help of some pain relief.”
“I can't… let my guard down like that.”
Zayne kept his promise, but you didn't take what he offered.
He couldn't make you do anything, and you had your own point to prove.
Took a liquid diet tray from the cafeteria, with hot drinks because they hurt less, and curled up in Zayne's office so he would take back what he said.
You were self-sufficient, you didn't need someone to interfere. It would pass like it always did. Mouths are the fastest-healing part of the body, aren't they?
The lights hurt your eyes, but they didn't want to stay open, anyway.
You could leave when he did. Give Zayne a reason not to work extra shifts just because he was already at the hospital.
“I know you're awake.”
Of course he did.
“You're putting your body through more stress, you know. It's the last thing that a heart needs.”
But your hypervigilance couldn't take it. Not when you were the hunter that everyone relied on.
You heard the roll and shut of his desk drawers, “Well, I guess we all have our weaknesses.”
His terms were sensible.
For once, you'd hold each other to your word. That you'd both be less of a workaholic and actually go home, instead of pretending.
It made more sense to crash at Zayne's place. Your neighbors wouldn't see you arrive, wouldn't depend on your guard.
Plus, all the food in your fridge was… going bad or just a sad sight. Cut into small pieces and boiled until they were soft enough to shove down.
You had been trying to reduce pain, in your own way.
It would never be enough.
You brushed your teeth in Zayne's bathroom, changed into one of his old t-shirts.
Crawled into bed where he was reading under soft lamplight.
He put two fingers to your neck before taking his eyes off the page, feeling where your pulse was stressed and your throat grew hard and sore.
His sigh was soft and disappointed, “Relax your jaw for me.”
You tried to, realized that the muscles in your face had all been tense. When they released, you began to feel half-asleep already.
He pushed a finger in, touched the spot that was keeping you up at night and desperate for distractions during the day.
Your nose crinkled, but he'd already withdrawn, like maybe you'd bite it off in retaliation.
“I was hoping you'd decide…” He held out the medication for you to read the label on. “Since this fell into my hands tonight… If that isn't enough, take these,” he put two pills in your hand.
They'd dull your edge.
You already found out you couldn't handle your liquor— and Wanderers were showing up more and more lately.
The light clicked off, Zayne’s book placed on the bedside stack of reading material.
“Go to sleep,” he murmured.
You tried to.
And maybe the gums hurt less, but it felt weird, different in a way that didn't make you any less alert.
You checked your phone, hid under the covers so light wouldn't disturb him.
A text from a number you hadn't saved:
I heard from Mephisto, you've been acting rather drunk again lately.
Is this going to be a problem?
Sleep deprivation is… doing the same thing as all that wine, isn't it?
Only this time, you couldn't throw up the alcohol and take a bath and sleep for ten hours to wake up feeling close to baseline.
Had you drunkenly given him your number?
It was hard to remember, moments blacked out and the… comfort mixed with betrayal you felt at laying on another man's chest. One that you had to hide your connection with.
What's your problem?
You shot back, digging through memory for context and coming up rather blank. Maybe he could be so kind and fill in the gaps.
Right now, it's you.
Get some rest.
You hated how sweet it felt, the growl in his voice you could hear through the text. The ache of body heat that you missed, when another lay beside you, asleep or pretending to be.
If all advice was the same, then maybe you should take it. That crow was probably keeping watch over you… So it would be fine.
You didn't understand what he was after, but it was clear that Sylus didn't want you weak.
The pills were hard to swallow, your throat protesting a little more each day. Slowly forcing you to break.
But a warmth bloomed beneath your skin, hazy dreams fleeting until you were actually unconscious.
If it wasn't going to resolve itself in the next few days, then… you needed to take the time off and get this thing removed. It already hurt, you were already off your guard. The only thing left to lose was pain.
Sylus calls you to pick him up when he starts feeling bad at a buisness meeting, you spend the next two days caring for him.
8.7k words (this is a full fic continued from my buisness meeting sick fic post)
CW: EMETOPHOBIA WARNING-sylus has the flu, saying I love you for the first time, smut at the end, MC has a wet dream, hurt/comfort, bonding, caretaking.
"This whole situation has brought you closer to him, you can feel it in your bones. There's nothing more intimate than nursing your person back to health. The way he looks at you changes permanently that day, any resistance to your concern evaporating once and for all. The days of him teasing you for worrying and brushing off your inquiries transform under the weight of the trust he put in you when he called you two days ago."
https://archiveofourown.org/works/89645646
The boring business meeting drags on, Sylus sits in front of a collection of associates while they discuss a new trade route. This discussion has dragged on for hours, the plans were already laid out before this day but as always the others want to negotiate who gets what first and when. The leader of Onychnus normally wouldn't allow this kind of bantering to go on so long but today he's been feeling… off. Not bad enough to worry him but persistent enough to cause him to be more careful with his words and decisions. It's so hot in here… these people are so annoying… he thinks to himself while nonchalantly adjusting the collar of his shirt, loosening it slightly to combat an uncomfortable feeling in his skin. The pen he's used to sign off on requests slips in his grip when he picks it back up. He takes a slow breath through his nose. I must be coming down with something. He sighs, choosing to ignore the cold sweat breaking out on his clammy skin.
“That's enough.” He states, the room goes silent. He didn't want to break character, he's a feared crime lord after all. A little virus should be nothing, he's also not human so his immune system would probably take care of it after rest…. he hopes.
The delegations resume but Sylus starts to make decisions, he wants this meeting to be over as soon as possible so he can leave. Shit, that's right.. I had almost forgotten… He's supposed to go on a date with you tonight, how could he have let that slip his mind. I must really be unwell.. I don't want her to catch it. After he finishes assigning tasks to his subordinates he pulls his phones out. His heart gives a pang of guilt, he's never canceled on you before…
The text comes through and you read it twice, a slight frown as you pick up on a hint that something isn't right with your dragon. You’re certain he would tell you if a serious matter came up so you pretend to accept his change of plans and decide to meet him at his place to see if he's okay.
Proposals and detailed requests stack up in front of Sylus but he pays little attention to it. A nervous sensation collects inside him as he reads and signs off on the plans. Humans and their paperwork…. Annoyance builds in him, he finds himself skimming instead of reading by the time he gets to the last stack of papers. Restlessness causes his leg to bounce gently, he sets his pen down and slides the documents back without a word.
The room clears quickly, everyone leaves grateful they survived the encounter and feeling hopeful about the prospects of doing business with Onychinus. Sylus sighs, resting his face in his hands. “Fuck..” he whispers, saliva gathering thickly in his mouth. He swallows it back and is only rewarded with an unsettling feeling. You've got to be kidding me.
The chair rolls back when he stands, he doesn't bother pushing it in or looking up as he slips out of the meeting room into the hall of the hotel. Knowing the layout of the building like the back of his hand he moves swiftly towards a single stall bathroom to splash water on his face. The dim lighting does little to hide how horrible he looks, a faint sheen of sweat on his face accompanied by dark circles that only come from a body working overtime. “Uhg…” He groans, turning the water on and running it over his wrists to try to soothe the reality of a nauseous tingle behind his eyes.
It's become abundantly clear to him that he needs to get home where he can ride this out in privacy. The tingle behind his eyes spreads down his spine, his throat works on an involuntary swallow as his insides churn slightly. He exhales shakily, the sound seeming loud to him in the small room. “Fuck…” he whispers, the irony not escaping him that a small stomach ache is enough to break his composure. The rivals his assassins send can't do this much, neither can advanced weapons or powerful Evols. He sighs as he cups a small amount of tap water in his hands, sipping it slowly in a desperate attempt to soothe the building nausea. The regret is instantaneous, his stomach swirls causing him to tense up and close his eyes. The surface of the mirror fogs slightly when he presses his hand to it to steady himself, his other hand resting on the counter. Breathe slow, don't be a pussy about it. His breath is stolen by a near silent gag. He swallows reflexively with no avail, another guides cold liquid to the back of his throat as it brings the water back up.
The cold chills that have annoyed him all night turn to a heated flush that spreads on his cheeks and down his chest. The pressure in his stomach becomes unavoidable, a gush of watery vomit flows from him with force. This is obnoxious. He thinks to himself, slightly pissed that this couldn't have waited until he got home.
Another retch echoes quietly in the bathroom, his head pounding from the strain of it. “I can't drive like this..” he mumbles to his own pale figure staring back at him in the mirror. The dawning realization that he needs to call for help is the icing on the cake tonight. Onychinus's base is only 15 minutes from here but riding his motorcycle through the N109 Zone in this condition didn't sound appealing in the slightest.
This particular meeting didn’t warrant him to bring Luke and Kieran so he traveled alone on his motorcycle. The thought of riding home in this condition sent dread down his spine, being compromised in the middle of the N109 Zone without backup is too risky even for him.
After several minutes of struggling to regain his composure he pulls his phone, his hands shaking slightly as he unlocks it. The man's mind is sluggish, he contemplates who to call. Luke and Kieran would likely find it amusing to learn that he's been getting sick in a public bathroom. Not that he can really blame them, he might laugh at himself if he didn't feel so awful. After all, their mischief is the highlight of his life with them. A weak smirk curls at his lips as he sighs, sending a quick message to the group chat with them asking them to retrieve his motorcycle and bring it home. He knows they won't push or ask questions, they know better than that.
The text thread between you and him lay open now, his gaze fixed on your contact photo. The same photo you sent him in the middle of the night while missing him when he was on business in another area.
The phone rings once, his voice rough when you answer.
“Sylus... are you okay.?" The worry threaded in your tone is met with a shaky sigh.
"I need you to meet me at the hotel.. the same one we met at two weeks ago. I need a ride home… You can use one of the cars at Onychinus." he didn't have the energy to come up with an excuse and honestly… right now he didn't want to, he just wanted to be home.
The suspicion from earlier is solidified by the waver in his voice, you take a deep breath to steady yourself before speaking. "Okay, I can be there in a half hour. Are you okay..? You avoided the question..." you didn't think he was injured, he just sounded.. tired? Maybe drunk? You can't recall a single time when he sounded so… defeated? Nervous? You weren't sure what to think right now.
"I'm just not feeling well.. I want you with me." He mumbles as he sits down on the floor with his back against the door to wait for you.
"Okay love.. I'll be there as quickly as possible." You hang up and immediately start the engine on your bike, peeling out of the alleyway you had claimed as a good hiding spot while waiting for him to return home. The neon lights whizz by as you maneuver the route. Around 15 minutes later you’re on your way to the hotel in one of Sylus’s vintage cars.
It didn't seem like long for you but for your dragon waiting it felt like an eternity.
Sylus holds his phone in one hand, one knee up with his forehead resting on it as he focuses on keeping the nausea at bay. A dizzy feeling in the back of his head coupled with the undeniable fever coming on has him trembling slightly. He doesn't normally get sick, but that doesn't mean it's impossible. Apparently, even draconian fiends can catch the flu. He just hopes he can keep you from getting it as well, even though the thought of being in bed with you recovering from a mundane virus sounds like a poor use of a vacation but a vacation nonetheless.
The silence stretches, he startles at the sudden vibration in his hand that alerts him of a text from you saying you're here. The world tilts a bit as he slowly stands up, the dizzying feeling has him swallowing back a soft gag. "Fuck.." he whispers, quickly moving back to the sink as a second round of sickness pulls him under. His phone buzzes with a call this time, he can't answer right this second so he manages to send a quick text telling you to wait a moment.
A few minutes later he splashes water on his face and blows his nose, feeling even worse than he did when all this started. He doesn’t even have the energy to feel nervous about you seeing him like this, he knows he's safe with you and that you'll take care of him without judgement. This fact becomes his only comfort as he slips his phone back into his pocket and opens the door to the lobby.
A sense of peace brews in his chest when he sees you standing there in the middle of the lobby wearing a sundress, your expression tight with worry as you stare at your phone waiting for another message from him. You glance up to see him standing a couple feet away, his hands in his pockets looking completely drained.
“Sy..?” You rush over and immediately begin assessing him, checking for wounds or any discrepancies in his energy signature.
“Sweetie… I promise I didn't get into a fight.” The softness in his voice goes beyond just tired, you know this but it doesn't feel like he’s lying.
"Come on, Love. Let's get you home..." You whisper softly as you take his hand, the searing heat in his grip sets off alarm bells in your mind. The hotel doors slide open bringing in a rush of cool air from the parking lot that coaxes goosebumps to prickle on his skin under your fingers.
"You're burning up... is it the aether core.?" You tilt your head to examine him more, looking up at him while leaning against the hood of the car. A gentle touch grazing his cheeks confirms the fever you suspect, your thumb brushes under his right eye as you try and fail to locate a glow.
"No.. I'm just sick. Must have caught a virus." He catches your wandering hand, holding it gently as the truth sets in.
“Okay, I'm staying with you then.” Your mind is made up, you will not leave your beloved to weather this by himself. You sense a flicker of relief under his discomfort as you request a few days off from work. “I won't leave until you're feeling better.”
Sylus cracks a smile and shrugs, playing it off like this isn't the best news he's heard all day. "I won't argue with a pretty lady who wants to spoil me..." he mumbles as he opens the car door for you, shutting it after you sit.
You can’t help but track him as he moves to the passenger side, noticing the tension in his shoulders and the sweat still beading on his forehead. Sylus takes a slow breath before reluctantly getting into the car, knowing the ride will likely be unpleasant for him in his current state.
“Do you want the air on?” You ask while starting the engine. He nods with a whispered thanks, you crank it up then pull out of the parking spot.
You drive carefully, resting a hand on his arm gently rubbing your thumb on the heated skin. The slight shivers running through him make him seem so human at this moment. You sigh. "Why didn't you tell me sooner... I don't like the idea of you being alone with a fever.."
Sylus doesn't answer, he just laces his fingers with yours and squeezes gently as if he was lost in thought or just feeling too horrible to speak. Your brows furrow but you don't press.
You’re just about half way to the base when his throat clicks with a forced swallow. “Sy..?” you whisper, stealing a glance to find that he’s buried his face in his hand.
He shakes his head while rolling the window down a couple inches. "Just drive please..." he manages to mutter, sounding so weak and vulnerable that it makes your chest ache.
"Okay.." your focus sharpens, unable to ignore the way his breathing shakes a bit and he was swallowing every few seconds.
"We're almost home.." you whisper as you turn onto the road to Onychinus's base, only a couple more minutes now. It's become clear to you that your beloved had been throwing up and that's why he asked you to pick him up. A soft smile graces your face knowing that you are who he turns to when he's unwell.
The vehicle pulls into the garage and the doors slide down behind it, the engine cuts off. Protective instinct takes over and you quickly get out, moving to his side to open the door not wanting him to have to move more than necessary. He reaches for your offered hand, allowing you to pull him up gently. You're surprised when he leans on you with a sound that sounds almost like a whimper.
"Shh... it's okay.. we're home now.." you whisper, feeling a mixture of possessiveness and affection at the way he softens under your tender care. A shaky breath ghosts your ear as he lifts his head, your heart flips in your chest because even now he’s still the sexiest man you have ever seen. “You okay?” You whisper softly to him as you brush some hair out of his eyes. He shakes his head, tightening his fingers around yours as his Adam's apple bobs and his brows furrow a little. Seems your questions and worries will have to wait until you get him inside.
Sylus's stomach lurches before even making it out of the garage. The poor thing finds himself over a trash bin in the corner just as a torrent of fluid spews out of him, coughing from the burn and unable to stop the harsh gags that follow. The sound sends a complicated shiver through you but you don’t let it show. The man who only loses composure in bed with you is now reduced to strained gasps as he braces himself with one hand against the wall. "Mmh..." a soft whine makes your heart twist in sympathy.
"It's okay... I've got you..." you whisper softly, rubbing his back gently as his muscles clench under your hand. "Breathe slowly... it's only us here.." The softness of your words help him to relax a bit, a shiver runs through him as the sickness crests again.
A rough, wet sound tears out of your dragon that sends goosebumps spreading on your skin. The slow circles on his back never stop even as his fingers dig into your arm. “You're okay…” you whisper, sensing his anxiety as back to back gags and heaves bring up everything he's been fighting to hold down since he got into the car.
You fetch a few tissues from the workbench once the heaving subsides into ragged breaths. The intensity in your expression softens as you carefully wipe the spit off of his face. “My poor baby…” Your brows furrow again, you glide your thumb under his eye to catch a tear that escaped from the effort of being so violently sick.
He sniffles, coughing a couple times and spitting into the trash can before he wraps his arms around you and buries his burning face into the crook of your neck. "Thanks, Love.." he mumbles, slumping against you a bit and forcing you to bear his weight.
"Come on... let's get you to bed... I'll stay right by your side until this passes.." you whisper as you place a kiss to his cheek, not caring at all if he passes you a virus. The love you hold for him always overshadows everything else and this is no different. The only thing that matters to you right now is nursing your dragon back to health.
The pressure from his weight lets up and you follow him inside. “I'm going to grab some things, you get yourself to your room.” Your fingertips trail his arm before you let go.
Sylus chuckles at the hint of authority in your voice as he watches you disappear into his kitchen. “Whatever you say boss..” he mumbles, lips curling into a smirk when you retort back at him.
Sylus flips the ambient lights on in the bedroom and sluggishly undresses, even the rare materials in his plush robe are irritating his fevered skin. He sighs, too tired to think about showering or freshening up so he just sits on the edge of the bed and waits for you to return.
The fridge closes quietly behind you, you set a collection of sports drinks and water bottles on the counter. “Oh that's right…” you whisper to yourself while opening your bag, digging through it to find something. “Glad I kept this.” You set a bottle of antiemetic medicine on the counter, there's only one pill left but with any luck his symptoms will improve long enough to get hydrated and eat something light. The pantry door opens, you dig through to find crackers and ginger tea. “Perfect..” you smile, setting the rest on the counter before putting the kettle on.
The dark hallway has you squinting, you fumble for the light switch at the end before heading down to his room with everything in tow. Thankfully the door is cracked, you don't have a free hand right now. “Sylus?” you call out softly, huffing when you don't see him in bed like you expected. Careful not to drop anything, you set the drinks and snacks on the nightstand.
A sound of misery dissolves your frustration, you push open the door to the master bathroom with a bottle of water in your hand. “Oh, love..” you sigh, feeling worry stab at your heart once again from the sight of your beloved fighting for composure on the bathroom floor. A painful dry heave echoes through the spacious room making you wince slightly. You open a cabinet, pull out a cloth to wet with cold water then kneel next to him. “I have medicine that might help you… and I'm making tea.” you whisper as he gasps softly between empty retches. A soft hiss of relief graces your ears as you place the coolness to the back of his neck, you brush his hair from his eyes and crack the bottle of water open.
“Mmh..” He shakes his head, his brows scrunched in refusal when you hand it to him. Your eyes narrow in an unwavering glare that immediately caves him. He takes a small sip, only swishing it in his mouth and spitting it out.
“Drink…” You grumble, the fire in your eyes says you will not be taking no for an answer.
“Fine.. fine..” Sylus mumbles, actually loving that you've become fussy over his health.
You huff softly when he finally takes a small drink, you hate seeing him like this but you can't deny the enjoyment of this opportunity to be truly needed by him. “Thank you. I don't care if it stays down, you have to try to stay hydrated… I'm going to get the tea.” You stand and make for the door before he has a chance to argue.
He would have watched you walk away with a half smirk if he wasn't focused on keeping the water down, his effort to do so crumbling less than a minute later.
The incessant call of the kettle draws closer, you pull mugs from the cupboard and meticulously prepare two cups of ginger tea. Deciding it's best to not add any sugar to his, you settle on a generous drizzle of honey. “I wonder if any of these human remedies can even soothe a demon…” All of your instincts to aid him come from experiences of your own. “Oh well, at least he has my love.” you muse as you make your way back down the hall.
The mug is placed on his bedside table then you take a seat at the end of the bed. The bathroom faucet goes silent and you watch with concern as he dries his face. “Feeling any better..?” you sip your tea, quirking your brow when he leans against the doorframe.
“No.” He states before tentatively climbing into bed. He settles with his back against the headboard. “You really think this is a good idea..?” he whispers, a rare hint of uncertainty on his face.
You shrug, pulling out the pill bottle from your pocket. “Let this dissolve under your tongue, it should stop the nausea for at least 6 hours… Well, for a human it lasts that long. I don't know if it will even work on you.” you hold it out in your palm to him.
Sylus stares at it for a beat, you can see his wheels turning as he weighs the pros and cons of taking medicine. “I suppose it's worth a try…” he mumbles with a groan, examining it between two fingers before popping it into his mouth. His face scrunches up.
A giggle bursts from your chest. “Sorry… the flavor isn't for everyone… but if it works well enough to get fluids to stay down, you might be able to get some rest.” You can't resist watching his expression as the medicine dissolves. He sips his tea to wash the horrible taste away, the warmth spreads through him. He sighs, feeling the cold knot of dread unwind and fade into the background.
“Good..” you whisper as you retrieve a nightgown from the drawer dedicated to you in his dresser. Your lips curl slightly, the bathroom door closes behind you but you quickly correct this and leave it cracked while you change.
“That really helps, actually…” He whispers when you join him in bed with a pack of crackers and an electrolyte drink.
The smile that lights your face could brighten a funeral. “I'm so glad!” Your fingers brush against his as you pass him the cold drink. “But… I only have one, so… sorry if you feel sick again later.” You mumble, focusing on finishing your tea.
Sylus shrugs “It's fine, sweetie…. I'm sure this will pass quickly.” he sets his empty mug down, the fever flush still dusting his cheeks like a blush. He lets you feed him the crackers and finishes half of the electrolyte drink before drowsiness takes over. “I'm going to try to rest… Please remember to care for yourself too. I'm a big boy, I'll be okay.” He chuckles, knowing this comment will fluster you.
Your face flushes as expected. You finish your drink and resist the urge to make a joke about what else he has that's big… “Okay, I'll raid your fridge then come to bed.” You tuck the covers around him and kiss his forehead, still burning hot. Gentle fingers card through his fluffy white hair for a moment before you walk away, feeling lighter now that you've seen his symptoms improve. You glance at your phone to check the time, 2 A.M.
Two servings of fried rice later you nestle up in bed next to your furnace of a lover. Sylus snores quietly, brewing a buzz amusement that you manage to stay quiet about. The fever must have his sinuses blocked. The rhythmic sound soon pulls you into a hypnotic state, drifting you off to sleep with your face resting gently against his back.
The rest doesn't seem to last long though, his body temperature rouses you. “Holy shit..” You blink a few times and sit up, placing the back of your hand to his cheek.
He tenses up a little, his breathing shakier than when you laid down. Should I wake him..? Your thoughts quickly start to war in your mind. He won't take fever medicine… or cold medicine… You sigh, running your fingers through your hair in exasperation. No need to interrupt his rest. You carefully move out of bed and pad to the bathroom, keeping the light off so you don’t disturb him as you wet another cloth.
A soft hiss is emitted from him as you place it, you hum softly while gently scratching his scalp the way he likes. He leans into the touch and settles, the scene so precious to you that you decide to stay awake for a while longer.
The cloth is rotated out once it warms, around an hour passes before a heaviness pulls on your eyelids. Sleep comes without warning this time. Loving fingers still curled in sweat damp hair, the soft beat of your heart against his back as you drift. You don't even register that you're waking up at first when a soft sound enters your dreams. A shuffle of silk sheets and a sharp intake of air.
“Mmh?” You sit up, blinking away sleep. “Sylus?”
“Didn't mean.. to wake you.. Sweetie…” The roughness in his tone squeezes your heart like a vice. He's panting and shivering, looking completely debauched.
“Hey, now… none of that… I'm honored to comfort you. I love you.” the words tumble from you unguarded, the haze of sleep not registering with the idea of hiding your feelings from him.
“Love you too…” he whispers, carefully sitting up to rest propped up against the soft headboard. A fine tremor runs through him, you gather the cloth and go to wet it again. “It means a lot to me…” he mumbles.
Your movements are slow, careful to not jostle him as you sit on the edge of the bed. “I know.” The moment sinks into your soul, it feels as if you’ve done this time and time again… in another life.
His ruby red eyes watch you intently, you wipe the sweat from his forehead before repositioning the cold cloth at the nape of his neck. His eyes slip shut and you swear you see his chin tremble before he stills it. “You should drink more…” you whisper, he shakes his head.
“Okay, I won't force you.” You return to your side of the bed and settle next to him, putting your arm around him as he leans into you. The heat of his fever quickly warms your skin through your clothes but you don't complain. “Sweet little love…” You whisper, letting your instinct to sooth gently run free.
Anyone else would never get the privilege of being gentle with Sylus. This man that is feared by a whole city, maybe even a whole planet somewhere… now had his head on your chest, not teasing or retorting at your soft words. “This is nice…” he whispers, emotion swells inside you.
“Yeah.. it is nice…”
The soft snores start again a moment later. You rest your hand on his arm, feeling the heat through his soft robe. We just said I love you…. The realization hits you not like a train as one would expect, but softly as if it's the most natural thing in the cosmos. You've been in love with this man for over a year, yet somehow neither of you had ever come out and said those three words in that order. Why had you ever resisted saying those words to him?
The sound of his breathing lulls you again, your eyelids droop then gently shut. You stubbornly cling to consciousness for as long as your body allows, unwilling to let this moment end so quickly. The warmth of his body against yours feels like the greatest gift in the universe. “My Sylus….” you whisper as the last of your awareness blinks out.
“Fuck…” Sylus groans weakly, rudely awakened by a noxious taste in his mouth. Disoriented by his plight, he cautiously pushes himself into a sitting position. The movement sends a nasty feeling through him, he blinks to clear his vision but he's so groggy that he can't catch up to himself. “Kitten..”
“I've got you…” You whisper before even fully opening your eyes, the urgency in his tone sharpening your focus like a blade. He hiccups, swallowing thickly then presses his knuckles to his mouth. Less than a second later you're handing him a waste basket from the bathroom.
“Here… don't worry about getting up, let me take care of you.” You whisper sweetly in his ear, your hand on the small of his back unwinding some of the tension in him.
You glance at the clock. 5:26 A.M. The medicine had granted him a few short hours of peace.
The next hiccup sounds airy, his mouth waters profusely forcing him to spit quietly. You choose not to speak, sometimes misery just needs company with no strings attached. He rests his head on your shoulder as he breathes through it, eyes closed like a sick puppy asking for comfort. The sight warms your heart despite how unpleasant it is to see him suffering. The way he shivers slightly from the roiling nausea, his brows pinched slightly in discomfort… It's almost cute… almost. He feels your cool lips press to his forehead, a sense of surrender from the way you effortlessly care for him without any hint of reluctance.
“Mmh… love you..” he mumbles, immediately regretting the decision to speak but never the words themselves.
“And I love you, Sylus.” You whisper softly, keeping your arm around him when liquid bubbles in the back of his throat prompting him to lift his head from your shoulder. You can feel his racing heart through the contact, his anxiety spiking as the sickness returns with a vengeance.
“You're okay, I’ve got you..” you whisper, hoping your words will be enough to dull the edges of panic you can clearly sense from him.
“Mmmh…” He whines, actually whines when his body betrays him violently. The relentless heaving evicting anything left inside him. For several minutes he can only suck in shallow breaths between small gushes. His lungs burn, his eyes water and the only thing keeping him from completely crumbling is you.
“One second…” you whisper, slipping away to wet the cloth again determined to offer as much comfort as you can.
You resume your post right as a dry heave wracks him. “Breathe slowly, love… in through your nose… out through your mouth…” you’re not even sure if he needs this instruction but you have a feeling he doesn't go through this often.
Aside from one night when you both had way too much to drink, you’ve never seen him get sick… and this isn't the same as overindulgence. Your dragon makes something as miserable as a hangover look like a walk in the park.
Your heart clenches, the cold cloth warms faster than you’d like it to.
To your surprise he follows your technique. You breathe with him, running your fingers up and down his spine in sync with the rise and fall of your chest. Another dry heave, you don't break the pattern. He follows it again and after a few more empty retches his stomach relaxes enough to allow him to calm down. He slumps against you with a huff. You carefully wipe his face with some tissue you brought from the bathroom earlier.
“You’re good at this…” he slurs with droopy eyes, his voice like gravel scraping.
“It's easy, caring for you comes natural to me.”
“I'll take note… I'm always learning from you.”
The honesty in his words has you blinking rapidly to push back tears. You set the bin on the floor by the bed to deal with later and gently ease back onto the pillows. His arm tightens around you and he nuzzles weakly, sighing heavily as exhaustion steals him. The fever is really starting to worry you, you bury your unease instead of fussing about it. After all, it’s just a virus… it has to run its course and no amount of worrying will speed the process up.
The snores start again, his sinuses squeaking faintly. That complicated feeling returns… You hate that he's so cute when he’s not feeling well. I wonder if he's feeling guilty about all this… I hope not…
The clock reads 6:30 when you peel yourself from his grip to tidy the room. You change the bag in the basket, set out a towel and fresh clothes for when he's feeling well enough to shower then wander into the kitchen to find something to eat. You stop in the hallway, pulling your phone out to send a quick message to the chef: Make soup for lunch, just broth… something with immune properties. Even if Sylus won't eat it, you have to at least try. You'll lie and say you made it yourself if you have to. The thought of trying to lie to a man who can read desires makes you want to laugh.
The twins are sitting at the table, they give you an inquisitive tilt of their heads as you start to pull out ingredients. “Sylus is sick so don't bother him for a couple days… if he has anything pressing that you're aware of, try to postpone it.” You have no reason to hide this from them.
They chuckle softly but agree. “Okay, boss lady.”
You huff softly and shake your head. “I'm just a temporary fill in, acting president when the boss is occupied.”
Your retort earns amusement from both of them, their laughter lessens the weight of everything if only for a moment. “If you need us to get anything, don't hesitate to ask.” they offer softly, their eyes sparkling with the desire to help.
You nod, turning the idea around in your head but unable to think of anything that will help right now. “Okay, I'll keep that in mind.” You turn your attention back to the meal you're preparing, the simple task a needed distraction.
The three of you eat breakfast quietly, an hour slips past before you realize it. “Don't worry too much, okay?” You say as you ruffle their hair, pushing your chair in as you step away from the table.
“We trust you.” Their words land in the same place that Sylus's gratitude had earlier.
The hours reprieve from your duty as caretaker leaves you feeling relaxed, you start to realize how tired you are. Worry creeps back in… I should have had the chef cook for us… what if it's catching…? I could have spread the virus… I wasn't thinking… You sigh heavily as you push the door open, relieved to see that your patient is still asleep. I should shower…
Hot steam fills the room, the scent of your lavender soap drifts into the bedroom through the door you left cracked. You hum quietly, working through your whole routine and methodically rinsing your hair until the water runs clear.
Your ears perk, the water turns off. “Shit…” you whisper, hurriedly wrapping a towel around you and giving your hair a quick wring so you don't soak the floor.
“It's okay… I'm.. mmh… fine…” he lies, obviously resisting the urge to gag.
“Sylus… you aren't… don't lie.” You sit next to him, brushing his sweat slicked hair from his eyes. “Sorry if I woke you..” you mumble, guilt pulls your lips into a frown.
“You didn’t.. mmh…” he gags softly then exhales shakily. “The scent…” he rubs his eyes, the dark circles worse from lack of proper rest. “It made my head hurt…but it's okay.” he finally manages to speak through the tightness in his throat.
Oh.
“Okay, let me open the window then.” You channel remorse into action, cracking the window and turning the bathroom fan on high before closing the bathroom door.
When you turn around you have to bite back a laugh. This stubborn man somehow got up and crossed the room to the window so he could breathe in the fresh air. “You move quickly for someone who could barely sit up an hour ago…” you can't stop yourself from teasing him.
Sylus scoffs. “This is better than the alternitive…” he mumbles.
“Okay… well, just don't pass out there. I can't carry you back to bed.” You chuckle softly while dressing into a comfortable outfit. “Since you're up, I'm going to change the bedsheets.” You don't wait for a protest or reply, you strip the bed and toss them into the concealed hamper by the closet then select a red silk to replace them.
Your arms circle around him and you rest your forehead under his shoulderblade. “I made soup for you… will you try to have some?” You whisper into the soft robe, hoping he can't tell that you're lying if he's not looking at you.
“If I say no…?”
“Then I'm forcing you to drink electrolytes… either way, you have to hydrate. Your fever is higher than a human's… and I know you have nothing in your body.” You gently turn him until he's facing you and give your best pleading look.
He sighs. “Fine… but do you have any seditives..? I won't get better if I keep waking up every other hour.” The pitiful look on his face melts your heart.
“Not sedatives… but I do have prescription grade sleep aid.” You wrap your arms around him, he embraces you and rests his chin on your head.
“That will work.” you feel him inhaling your scent, finding comfort in it when it's on you but not just in the air. “Are you feeling okay..? I'm worried I'll pass it to you.”
“I'm not sick, Sylus. I promise I'd tell you if I was.” You tip your head back and gaze into those jewel-like eyes.
“Good.” He smiles softly, cupping your face then placing a kiss to your forehead
It's now 8:30 in the morning, the perpetual night of the N109 Zone keeps the room dark. You’ve watched him take the medicine, it should kick in within an hour so you're using this time to coax him to eat.
Sylus is being a brat.
“I already drank a whole bottle of water, Sweetie… please just let me sleep.” This powerful creature is pouting at you.
“Oh shove it, you're a big boy remember?” you smirk, mischief in your gaze. “I'll reward you handsomely after you're well..” the lilt in your voice breaks through the defiance.
“You were already going to do that... I know you're burning for me. I see the way you look at me while I'm half dead to a fever.” The grin he flashes pools heat between your legs but you ignore it.
“But I taste better when you've earned me…. right..?” You lean closer, batting your lashes.
The man groans hotly when you pull that out on him, your core clenches around nothing.
“You're lucky I'm too dizzy to take my prize now…” He finally takes the cup of broth from you and downs a curious sip. “It's good… I think… My tastebuds are shot right now.” He sniffles, his sinuses opening a little from the warmth.
“Thank you. You can sleep after you drink at least half of it.” You cross your arms, leering into him with a mix of lust and devotion.
Sylus's eyes darken, he sips it slowly and never takes his eyes off you. “Keep that desire smoldering, Kitten. I'll need it from you to recover fully.” he smirks from behind the mug.
A soft breath leaves you, you have to look away from his alluring eyes before you recklessly claim him now. “Delerious…” you mumble, teasing him and pinching his arm.
“Ouch..,” he winces, “I'm sick, my body is sensitive. You should be more careful with me.” You can feel that from his glare without lifting your head to meet it.
“Yeah, yeah… I get it…Sylus is fragile right now.” You tease, giggling to yourself. “I'm just relieved to see you eating.” You add delightfully when he hands the mug back to you empty.
“Now sleep before your body decides you can't.” You sit the cup aside and pull the covers up over you both, letting him use your chest as a pillow.
“Goodnight, Kitten.”
“Goodnight, Sylus.”
The gallop of your pulse reverberates against your ears as your beloved sleeps in your arms. The heat from his body highlighting the desire in your veins from the teasing, you feel more worked up than you want to admit to yourself right now. You two haven't had the chance for a proper rendezvous in weeks, you miss the feeling of him pressing you into the mattress. Memories of past encounters with him play in your mind without conscious thought, pulling you into a lucid dream.
Large hands on your hips as you rock back and forth on him, the memory of his rough voice telling you how irresistible you look when you give in to your desires. How impossibly deep he reaches into you, every meeting leaving you with an imprint of his body merged with yours. The intensity of intimacy with him etched onto your soul like a scar. Soft panting breaths against your ear only a faint nudge from the waking world.
The illusion fades, your blurry eyes pried open from movement in your arms.
“You okay..?” you mumble, still half asleep and a little disoriented by the intensity of your dream.
Your question is met with a shaky sigh.
“Sylus.?” You trace the side of his jaw, gathering cold sweat on your fingertips. Another shaky breath from him along with a soundless click in the back of his throat.
“Mmh…” His muscles tense a little, his body attempting to wake but struggling through the daze of sleeping medication.
Your lips meet clammy skin on his forehead, he shivers in your embrace and groans weakly while burying his face into the crook of your neck. A sharp hitch in his breathing makes you nervous. He seems to be seeking comfort.
“Sylus, I love you but please don't throw up on me…” You whisper as you contemplate whether or not to move. He's trembling now, nuzzling slightly with a ghost of a whine.
You stroke his hair slowly and find that it's very damp, poor thing has been sweating bullets. He swallows thickly, leaning back a little and rubbing under his eyes.
“I feel horrible…” he mumbles, your heart breaks for him.
“I know… you've been squirming in your sleep.” You speak so softly to him, full of love despite the nervousness creeping up your spine.
You rise with him when he sits up, keeping your arm around him to take some of his weight. He braces his elbow on his knee and rests his forehead in his hand, his other hand squeezes your thigh as he tries to get his bearings.
“So dizzy..” He whispers softly, attempting to open his eyes but disoriented by the way the room seems to tilt. “Uhg..” that soft pitiful groan deepens your concern.
“Okay…” you whisper softly, sleep still clouding your focus as you get out of bed.
The spot on the floor where the waste basket should be is empty, confusing you further for a moment. Where did I put it? You think to yourself peering around the dark room.
Sylus sucks in a ragged breath and groans again, his eyes snap open when his mouth fills with fluid. Shit. He's much too dizzy to get up right now, a couple hours of sleep is not enough to metabolize a sleeping pill. He swallows hard, stifling a cough and hoping that he can hold it until you return to his side. He scans the room in a panic, you're still looking and trying to remember where you put it after you changed the bag earlier.
“Sorry!” You whisper, rushing into the bathroom and flipping the light on to look.
Sylus covers his eyes, his concentration shatters the moment the harsh lighting reaches him. His stomach lurches and a wet gag leaves him right as you spot the bin. That's right! I put it on my side in case this happened! You have never been more annoyed with yourself in your life. You click the switch and cast the room back into darkness, retrieving the basket and putting it under his chin right as his control over his body is swept away by sickness.
The poor thing didn't even have time to move his hand from his face before he's violently retching, your face scrunches in remorse when you see the mess he’s made because of your mistake. Your heart sinks, thinking you've failed him as you turn the tap on to wet a rag and gather a few tissues.
“I'm sorry, Sy….” you whisper, carefully cleaning his hand as he continues to weather his body's rebellion. You toss the soiled item into the hamper and sit down on the edge of the bed, resuming your hand on his back in a gesture of solidarity.
He coughs then gaps, panting softly for a few seconds before testing his ability to speak. “Not your fault…” he manages.
Your heart clenches, you want to insist it is but there's no way you're going to argue with your lover while he's hardly hanging on to himself.
“Okay…” you whisper, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
“Fuck….” he breathes the word then hiccups. He swallows hard and rubs his forehead as if he could ease the nausea. The tactic works just long enough to allow him to catch his breath.
His stomach twists and sends him spiraling into another series of relentless heaves that eject every drop of fluid you coaxed into him. The sound makes you flinch slightly but you stay put, never once wishing you were anywhere else than by your dragon's side. Minutes tick by slowly. Eventually he starts to dry heave and whine.
“Shh… breathe slowly, remember… your body is empty, you need to let your stomach relax…” You slide your hand into his robe and place it over the clenching muscle, feeling the spasms and jumps. “You're okay… I promise…” you whisper when you notice how fast his heart is beating.
“Mmmh… Sweetie, this is awful…” his usual walls that project him as untouchable are completely down.
“I know… but these kinds of sicknesses usually pass after a day or two. I won't force you to eat again.” You kiss the side of his face, feeling wetness there likely from tears of overwhelm. He huffs softly in response, even the thought of eating made him want to hurl. He takes a tissue from you and blows his nose, wiping the spit from his face before discarding it.
Sylus closes his eyes, leaning into your touch as his breathing finally evens out. “Sleep.?” he slurs, the medication still weighing on him.
“Of course.” You take the basket from him and swap the bag again, this time placing it on his side of the bed by the nightstand.
“It's hot… Can you get the fan for me?” His request is so simple you can't help but smile.
“I really like taking care of you, Sylus… I just wish you didn't have to be sick for me to get this opportunity.” Your question is met with a soft huff that could have been a laugh if he weren't so sick.
“I'll start ordering you around then.” he mumbles, earning a giggle from you as you climb back into bed and settle with your arm around his waist.
“Does this feel good?” You place your hand on his stomach to rub gently. He nods and sighs, relaxing more by sliding an arm under his pillow.
“Keep doing that..” he slurs.
You smile and nod against his back, your eyes slipping shut as you lull him back to sleep. He doesn't wake up sick again that night. You seem to have grown accustomed to the way he tenses when he's feeling worse. You rouse every time and start rubbing gently again until you feel his muscles unclench.
The next day you prepare a bath for him, he lets you wash him and you take full advantage of the opportunity to pamper your beloved. Carefully gliding the sponge over his skin and taking extra care to scratch his scalp while you wash his hair. Your heart skips a beat when he starts to purr softly, you don't comment on it even though you want to tease him. The gentle rumble isn't a sound you hear often. The moment feels sacred in a way you can't put a finger on, something familiar in that purr.
“I'm going to change the sheets.. you just relax.” You kiss his forehead before going to freshen the room up.
The afternoon is spent laying together, you feed him electrolyte popsicles to keep him hydrated and he manages to keep them down. This whole situation has brought you closer to him, you can feel it in your bones. There's nothing more intimate than nursing your person back to health. The way he looks at you changes permanently that day, any resistance to your concern evaporating once and for all. The days of him teasing you for worrying and brushing off your inquiries transform under the weight of the trust he put in you when he called you two days ago.
The following day his fever is gone, you wake up to something wet and hot between your legs. A bite to your thigh and a nudge as his elbows spread them open.
“Come to claim your prize..?” You whisper breathlessly as your panties are pulled down hastily.
“Time to reward you for being such a good Kitten when I needed you the most..” His words are muffled but you still hear him clearly.
You push the sheets away so you can watch as those beady red eyes glaze over in worship. Fingers tighten in his hair as his mouth gets more insistent, your eyes roll back and he purrs against your most sensitive spot.
“Oh fuck, Sylus…” you moan so much sweeter than usual, your thighs shaking in his grip when his fingers join in to bring you to your end.
The pleasure makes colors burst behind your eyes. You grip his arms and haul him up on top of you, groaning greedily when you find that he's already naked. His arousal slides into you in one slow thrust.
“You mean so much to me.” He mumbles, head dipping down to bite and suck your neck as his hips move in deep, sensual rolls.
“I love you Sylus!” You whimper, nails scoring down his back already from how enormous he feels inside you.
“And I love you, Sweetie..” His voice shakes, he cups your face and holds your gaze.
The glow in his right eye starts soft, pulses brighter then stays gleaming. A sensation washes over you unlike any other before. The tingle starts in your heart and radiates outward, stealing your breath and pitching your moans higher.
“That's it… mmgh… good girl…” Sylus growls the words, pressing his forehead to yours as his hips move faster.
The sound of wet skin on skin echoes in the room, mixing with his rough groans and your desperate pleas for more of him. You're brought over the edge again and again and again…. It will never be enough.
No amount of the one who holds your soul will ever be enough.
CW: Honeymoon sickfic, only revised once, Emetophilia, smut, pussy eating, needy sex, he finishes inside her, aether core activities, drunk sex, alcohol, you and sylus are married, MC has a vomit kink.
Sylus and you are on your honeymoon and you suggest you drink vodka instead of what you normally drink together, he ends up getting sick and discovers you have a kink for it. He composes himself and then eats you out and fucks you.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“You're cruel, Kitten…” Sylus manages to speak even as his breathing shakes from how dizzy feels. His voice was so rough and gravely, also slurred from intoxication.
“...excuse me?” You try to retort but then he makes that sound again and the blush on your face gets deeper and you bite your lip.
The infamous leader of Onychinus was leaning over the railing of a balcony of your hotel room and fighting an internal war against tonight's indulgence.
He groans after a stream of burning liquid is forced out of him. Another shaky breath and then he speaks, his words shaking a little. “I can… mmnh.. sense it-” his sentence is cut off by another strained sound. He coughs and his nails dig into the railing.
Your mind races, you knew he could sense desire but you never realized that he would be able to tell this was turning you on. “I can't help it..” you whisper softly, running your fingers gently up and down his back to comfort him. You resist the urge to say something out of pocket. Though you really want to tell him that every time he gags your clit throbs. Your face was flushed and now your breathing was faster too, you were just as drunk as he was but you were used to drinking vodka. Tired of whisky and wine, you had asked Sylus if you could pick the drink and now your beloved was paying a price that neither of you anticipated.
And it was your honeymoon. You bite back the urge to laugh at the irony.
“Just breathe love… don't worry about what I may or may not feel right now..” the words leave your lips much more seductive than you intend.
He wasn't able to answer you or tease you for it right now, his stomach lurches as a torrent of alcohol rushes out of him. “uhhg…” Sylus groans, almost a whine and a jolt of pure heat runs down your spine that causes moisture to pool between your legs. He should be mortified, but he could sense your arousal and his body can't resist responding. Even as sick as he feels right now, he could feel his aether core reacting to the situation.
He looks over at you, his right eye glowing faintly and your heart almost stops. A soft whimper on your lips as you rub your thumb along the spit on his bottom lip. “Let me get you some water..” gentle words of care that disguise your need to take a breath away from the tension.
You return a moment later with an open water bottle “Drink..” you whisper softly. He refuses. “Hang on… let me get my shit together first..” he mumbles. He's hit with another series of near silent but wet gags as his body rejects the poison you've been feeding him for hours.
You bite your lip again and look away, you've never really heard him say anything like that before… coupled with the way his breathing shudders out of his nose as he tries to compose himself. You were sure your cheeks were as rosy as the color of his eyes. The coolness of the water in your hand was the only thing helping you not completely lose your own composure, your throat works as you bite back the urge to moan when he dry heaves.
You shuddar, not realizing how hard you are breathing and your voice rises just enough to be audible, “Mmh..”
Sylus glares at you, his eyes narrow. “You aren't helping.” he states, his right eye was brighter now and was making him feel more overheated than he already did.
A laugh bubbles in your chest and you make eye contact. “You sound hot.” there you said it.
Sylus rolls his eyes, immediately regretting his own sassiness as his head throbs. “out.” he mumbles, he takes the water bottle from you and gently pushes you towards the sliding glass door.
You have a very naughty smile on your face as you close the door to the balcony, you did leave it cracked though…
Around 15 minutes later the door slides open, you don't look up because you can feel how guilty and naughty you look. Your voice comes out much rougher than intended, the heat inside you was unbearable. “Feeling better..?”
He doesn't speak but you could feel his eyes on you, your lips curl into a smirk and only then did you look up. “you look wrecked…” you whisper, unable to hide the hunger in your eyes.
“I just learned something interesting about my wife…” his words were still slurred but he did look less unwell now.
My wife…
The words cause you to moan softly, finally letting the sound out that you had been holding back since the moment you saw him stumble onto the balcony.
“And I just saw the leader of Onychinus lose… only this time instead of me.. it was to flavored vodka.” you were teasing now, you could feel the residual heat from his aether core like a warm blanket. The power you felt any time his eye would glow for you was the most addicting thing about Sylus.
He chuckles and sits down on the bed next to you, exhausted and incredibly wasted but none of that mattered to him, he needed to taste the desire that had bloomed from his misery.
“Let me use you to get this taste out of my mouth…” he purrs as his hands settle on your chest and he pushes you onto your back.
“fuck sylus..” you moan, that was the hottest thing this man has ever said to you.
Your legs part on instinct as your panties are pulled off. Sylus groans when he sees how soaked you are.
“You really enjoyed that didn’t you… and yes… I did notice you left the door cracked…. you heard every bit of that…” his words were more slurred now, hungry just as you had heard hours ago when you consummated the marriage.
He was reveling in it now too, knowing you had a specific kink for this was surprising but so sexy. “My kitten has eccentric tastes…” his lips brush against your clit as he speaks, his tongue swipes up and he moans softly.
“Just like my husband!” the way the words are ripped from you surprises you, you grind against his tongue shamelessly. “mmmh… sylus…” his name always felt so good leaving your lips like this.
He grips your hips to hold you in place and looks up at you as he sucks your clit. Your legs start to shake immediately “Fffuuuck…” your groan was rough and almost feral. You did not expect him to come in here and fuck you after going through something like that. “Yes.. mmh.. yes don’t stop!” litany of curses and moans leaving you as you quickly meet your orgasm.
A rough growl vibrates against your dripping core as your arousal is licked up by the demon between your legs. You’re shaking and gasping from the intensity of it.
Heated breath ghosts your skin as he crawls up your body and nudges his rock hard cock against your primed hole. You didn't even notice he had slipped out of his underwear, you were too focused on getting your desire met head on.
“yes..” you whisper softly as he makes eye contact with you again. “god, I love you so much.” you whisper.
“I love you too…” he whispers as he presses forward.
“Mmmgh-” he groans roughly, you keen as he bottoms out inside you. You had lost track of how many times you came today, you had been fucking since the moment you woke up on the first day of your honeymoon. Still, you rut your hips and grind your clit against him as he takes you apart again.
He fucks you deep and slow, his body moving like a wave as he watches the way your face shifts with ecstacy. It was beautiful, nothing could compare to this for him. Only you.
“Oh god Sylus, I’m close!” you whine, your eyes rolling back.
“Good girl…” he purrs, his hips starting to pound into you now. All of his discomfort momentarily forgotten and traded for the intense intimacy that neither of you can stop coming back to.
You claw down his back and whine his name over and over again as you cum. His breathing shakes against your ear and he whimpers as he chases his release, cumming with a deep growl.
Heavy breaths and sighs fade to synchronized calm. He doesn't bother pulling out, he just rolls over and keeps you as close as possible.
“Mmh… Kitten, I think you also beat me today…. I'm going to pass out.” Sylus whispers. You smile because you know you are the only person who gets to see him like this.
“Good night my husband...” you whisper and kiss the top of his head. You feel him smile and the love in your heart swells more.
You continue to hold him and run fingers through his hair for a while after he falls asleep as you replay the day in your mind. This was more than you could have ever asked for…
There is a part 2 to this in the works where we find out she had left phone on the porch to record him . She masturbates to the it.
