#do not reblog to non snz kink blogs

[writingforfishes]

Just a Note of Affirmation

Just wanna be affirming for a moment.

I've seen more than a couple of people talk about wanting to discuss their other kinks on their hiccup kink centric blogs and, friends, please do!

As long as you have proper tags (and possibly beginning of post CW warnings for people who are genuinely squicked or triggered by certain kinks and look at tags after), then you can celebrate any damn kink you want!

Just because your fellow hiccup kinksters aren't into your other kinks doesn't mean they aren't valid to be celebrated. Additionally, you could find other people with those kinks here through your kink blog!

I'm probably gonna do some sick or snz fics eventually. (Not emeto, sick, but ill stuff or allergy stuff.) I don't have those kinks necessarily, but I do like the content from them.

But if you do have an emeto kink or an eructo kink or a foot kink or piss kink or whatever, just warn a sibling so they know to do a scroll if they aren't into it. All your kinks are part of you and make you who you are.

Also, I'm of a generation who doesn't know everything about all the kink lingo and stuff. I also might not understand the appeal of certain kinks. If I'm curious, I'll ask! I hope no one takes my questions as judgement or offensive. And if you don't want to answer, please tell me. But I might just be curious cause I've never heard of it.

But write your fic and have your introspection and celebrate yourself as much as you can. File through the pages of your psyche and learn what to accept and what to deal with, if it's a problem.

Scrolling exists for a reason and making a peripheral blog is such a hassle when it comes with so many limitations in interaction.

You do you, lovely people! Fiddle yourself fearlessly! Go forth and bring lube!

(But, maybe, don't spill it on your bed again, Hat. I snorted when I read that! cc: @doginasillyhat)

[softsnzstuff]

Robin has the kink. Nancy has the snottiest cold in existance… leads to a long night of Nancy resting her head in robin’s lap whilst Robs is in charge of tending to her nose

(any chance of a short fic with that?)

Fuck yeah dude! I apologize for the lack of fem!snz in my fics. Despite being a bi woman myself, I have to be in a real specific headspace to write for women?? Which is? So weird of me, but that’s how it goes I guess??? 🤷🏻‍♀️ Pls enjoy this little fic of some R/onance. -KB

((Modern day setting // kink!Robin // sick!Nancy))

~ CW:SPICE • • •MINORS DNI // DO NOT REBLOG TO NON-KINK BLOGS ~

*****

Robin is splayed out on the couch watching Big Mouth on tv. Steve and Eddie had made her watch a few episodes at their place one night, and now she was hooked on the adult cartoon.

She pops a sour patch kid in her mouth when a very wet sneeze makes her jump. Nancy pads into the living room, rubbing at her nose with a tissue, box cradled in her other arm. She’s wearing her collared fleece pajamas, but has a crewneck over that.

“Can I sit with you, Robs?”

“Yeah baby, come here!” Robin scoots to the corner of the couch and then opens her arms as if waiting for a hug. Nancy knew Robin had an affinity for seeing her in this state, and despite feeling lousy, she was happy to indulge.

The pale brunette climbs onto the couch and lays down, head in Robin’s lap, hugging the box of tissues.

“Ehh … ii’KTCHyue!”

A small patch of spray settles right on Robin’s thigh, making her insides feel hot. She can feel a damp spot starting to form on her underwear.

“Bless you, sweetie! You sounded like you needed that…” She puts feelers out, wanting to talk about Nancy’s cold.

“Ngh, yeah.” Nancy says, “Sorry didn’t mean to mess up your pants. Just so tired… couldn’t cover.”

Robin bites her lip, “Let me help you then. You need your rest anyways.”

She reaches down and traces her finger around Nancy’s pink, damp nostrils. They flare as she moves.

Nancy inhales sharply and Robin hovers her cupped hand over Nancy’s face.

“essh’yue! snlff H’eTCHh!”

Robin turns crimson as Nancy sprays her hand. Smiling devilishly, she takes the hand covered in spray and puts it in her pants, moaning slightly as she slips her fingers inside.

“Robs I’m hhhh I’m gonna… k’TCHew! H’eTSCHuh! snfsnff T’ssiEW!”

Robin tilted her head back, hips moving with each shake release from Nancy. The younger woman had a tissue clad left hand clamped over Nancy’s nose.

“Blow your nose, baby.”

Nancy hesitated slightly, but could tell Robin was close. She took a deep breath and gave a thick blow into the tissues.

Robin moaned as she pinched the tissue away from Nancy’s face. Breathing heavy, she removed her hand and reached for another tissue.

Nancy looked up at Robin, “I don’t think I need to blow my nose again yet Robs.”

Robin laughed, wiping her hand, “Actually Nance, this one’s for me.”

[hachiibun]

hello hello!! not necessarily snz related but i wanted to ask, since youre into genshin, if youre into honkai star rail as well? and if you are who are your favorite lil guys!! >:D

Sorry for taking my time replying to this, but I certainly am! H/y/v has me in their grasp...

I do have some fav characters in a vanilla-only sense, but for here I'll share some sketches of the ones who I wanna see sneeze! Click on 'em for a better view! Enjoy!

Hope you like my little snz headcanons in drawing form! Also credit where credit is due, I got the idea for Sunday's wing-cover-thing from this vanilla artist (the art is so, so good so kindly admire from afar!)

If you like my drawings, and are willing and able to do so, please consider commissioning me, pledging to my Patreon, or donating through ko-fi ☕! You're not obliged to, but every bit helps to keep me living decently and I really do appreciate it!

❗ PLEASE NO REBLOGGING TO NON-KINK BLOGS ❗

[goodlucksnez]

After the dub of ch/erry magic I had to do something! I love theses two and I need more snz content, the fact both do it in the manga and show i mean come on snzblur get on it! lol

so enjoy the two disaster loves

❗ PLEASE NO REBLOGGING TO NON-KINK BLOGS ❗

script:

Adachi guess who? *covering his eyes from behind*

 Rokkaku

You wound me. And after so much work, I went into making this date the best it can be.

I really don't have anything to compare it to.

Well then I think you'll like the surprise.

If it is like our first one I'm not super thrilled.

Oh, I promise no heights this time, *in his head* even though he was so cute.

I planned a nice romantic walk

Just a walk that is unlike you, Kurosawa.

Well, I wanted to do something a little different.

In his head *He knows how uncomfortable I am in public. He took that into consideration. * All right, let's go.

*walking*

This way. I have never been down this way before.

No wonder this place has been deserted for forever, but it's a good place to hang without anyone looking.

As long as we're not breaking and entering

it's public property, we can go anywhere we wish. Although I think this is the best spot.

*whole picnic laid out*

Did you do all of this?

It was nothing.

Nothing. You set up a whole picnic. And you call that nothing.

I just wanted to see the look on your face. In his head *He's so cute. I don't know much more My heart can take. *

 OK. OK. Well. Since you put in so much work, I guess I can humor you.

Perfect. My king. *bows as if he is royal*

Do you have to be that cheesy?

I guess not.  Come on. This is just one of the surprises.

There's going to be more?

lots more. Since the first one didn't go great, I wanted to pull out all the stops this time. You're getting the royal treatment.

Why am I afraid of that?

Close your eyes.

What?

Come on, close them.

Kurosawa

You know what I want.

Fine.*closes his eyes* But I swear, if you… if you. *snez*

Oh, bless you.

Can I open my eyes now?

You can.

*sees a bouquet of flowers with every kind of different flower you can think off*

 Don't you think this is a bit much?

 Well, I didn't know which kind were your favorite, so how about I get one of each.

Still I must have cost you a fortune.

It was nothing. This is all the payback I need.

I love them,but-*hitching*

are you?

Snez x 3

Bless you. Bless you. Bless you, adachi. Are you OK? Did you catch a cold?

 No, no, no, no. I *snez*

Bless you

have allergies.

Allergies? To flowers?

Yeah. Oh, come on it not that uncommon!

No it just…. Our first date. You didn't have a problem when we went then. I had a bouquet  

well were outside a lot. And I did them in a bag, but

snez* 3

bless you. Bless you. Bless you.

You don't have to bless me after each one. I don't think I'm going to be done for a while.

Oh, adachi. This is all my fault. I'm sorry. I didn't even consider the Possibility you would have allergies. Hmm. I guess that's why in spring you do bring eye drops, don't you?

One of The reasons.*trying to throw the flowers away*  Don’t throw them away,

But you're obviously suffering.

kurosawa I can deal with it. Just like any day in spring,

 I don't want you to suffer. None of this should be bad. It should be magical Your first should be magical.

We already went out our first.

Snez x 3

Bless you , you never seem satisfied with one, do you?

I'm sorry to ask, but do you? *looking for a tissue*

Oh, yeah, um here.

*hands him tissue*

 Thank you.

*blows nose*

 Feel better?

 *in his head* how could I not know he has allergies. Oh, I'm going to be kicking myself in the butt for weeks about this. Oh, look how flushed he is. Still hanging strong for me. My knight in shining armor.

kurosawa, your staring at me?

You're right, you're right. It's just. You're so beautiful.

Even feel like this?

especially like this.

I don't know what you see.

Allow me.

*Kurosawa wiping his nose with a tissue*

*in his head*  Hey, is this OK? He is wiping my nose for me I mean, people aren't around but still, is it too much?

*in kuro head* Ohh he Looks so cute. The way his eyes are watering his nose, all turning all red. So cute. I'm gonna die.

*in ad head*Of course he likes this….*hitching  I mean. Wait, wait.

*snez against the tissue kuro is holding*

Bless you.

Is that all you can say? I just sneezed on your hand. Aren't you mad?

Well, technically you sneezed into a tissue that was in my hand. How could have been mad at you? I'm the one who's causing you to suffer. I'm the idiot boyfriend who bought you flowers.

But still I mean.

I want to do everything with you. And if that means getting a little messy. And I don't mind.

You cant just say that

How about enjoy the rest of the picnic and promise no more flowers.

Good. Because I don’t think my nose can take much more *snez 3

Bless you forever and always.

[snnprins-ya]

You get me flowers knowing I’m allergic.

(F) snz. Lots of hitching. Kinda moaning? Definitely desperate.

MINORS DNI! DO NOT REBLOG TO NON KINK BLOGS !!

My nose is still tingling as I write this. Lolll

[kushami-hime]

CW: Explosion sounds, listener has a dickhead friend, walking on ice, ice cracking, water sounds, B/akugou being a cold cold baby, B/aku using his quirk, B/aku saving listener, established B/akugou x Y/N, B/akugou being kind of mean but protective of listener, sneezing (duh), messy/sick sneezes, sick! B/akugou, hitching breaths & buildups, nose squishy noises (idk how to describe it), B/aku self inducing, B/aku sneezing on listener (not explicitly but the implication is there), lots of sniffling, one or two times he clears his throat, one noseblow, comfy fluffy winter vibes.

When a friend of yours dares you to walk across a local frozen pond, things don't go the way you planned. Luckily your knight in shining armor B/akugou is there at the last second to save the day...at the cost of his own health, of course.

This is a year in the making and ITS LATE AS FUCK LMAO Shout out to @ice-cream-nekogirl for giving me this scenario well over a year ago, I loved it but didn't have enough time to finish it back then ;o; I got a nosebleed as soon as I was about to start recording this, and after it stopped I said 'fuck it' and recorded it all in one session without a single drop of blood afterwards, which is kind of amazing since I've had nosebleeds for the past few weeks consistently. Maybe I'm not running my humidifier high enough? I dunno. But, I'm sorry for being dead and just not interacting lately, holidays are always hectic for me cause people always wanna see you and celebrate and the like. I'm gonna focus mostly on recording whatever I have done, be it comforts or snz focused, just so I'm pumping SOMETHING out at least once every few weeks or so.

Thank you guys for sticking around and MERRY (LATE) CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY (ALMOST) NEW YEAR!

MINORS DNI NON KINK BLOGS DO NOT REBLOG! <3

[bewitchedfeathers]

Hay Bales - Hell/uva Boss Snz Fic

I can definitely relate over this regrettable fave 😆. His sexy voice and animalistic violent vibes gave me ‘oh no he's hot’ feelings almost immediately. Thank you for the request! And I'm so honored that you were eager for my writing!

I decided to set this in a slight au where Blitzo and Striker spend some time together before the actual festival happens. 

Can be read as Blitzo/Striker or just Blitzo enjoying Striker's sneezing and Striker not minding the attention. Also I gave Blitzo the fetish. If that's not what you were looking for please feel free to send another request!

Please do not reblog to non-kink related blogs

—----

Blitzo watched as Striker hefted haybales in the late afternoon sun, not hiding how he was watching the play of his muscles from his seat on the nearby fence. Striker occasionally glanced over with a wicked grin or gave a saucy flick of his tail Blitzo's way and it proved the egostistical bastard didn't mind the attention.

The real entertainment started when he was close to finishing moving the hay from the back of a truck to the side of the barn. There were bits of hay and dust visible in the slanting sunlight but Blitzo didn't pay it any mind at first. It started with Striker wrinkling his nose and sniffling. Then progressed to his eyes looking just slightly pink around the edges and the occasional rub of his wrist against his nose. 

Blitzo didn't make any snarky comments because he was too busy being on the edge of his seat to see if he would get to see Striker sneeze. 

“Heh….Ehhhh-EHH’SHOO….” Striker bent forward with a deep fierce sneeze, that had Blitzo's tail curling. “Snf! Fuck…” Striker cursed under his breath as he rubbed roughly at his nose with his forearm. 

“Gesundheit, big guy,” Blitzo called out cheekily.

Striker glared and opened his mouth to snark back when his breath caught and sneezed openly towards the ground again. “Heh’ERSHHHUH…snfSnf - heh-HEH’RUSSHHOOO…satan bless it,” he cursed again, visibly frustrated, his tail whipping back and forth behind him. 

“Something bothering you?” He said with fake nonchalance.

“You concerned about me, Blitz?” He returned with a smirk. But Blitzo wasn't fooled as he watched Striker's nostrils twitch and flutter with obvious irritation. 

“I was just thinking it'd be pretty funny, a cowboy allergic to hay,” he goaded with a crooked shit eating grin. Striker lips pulled back in a snarl but his face collapsed into a sneezy grimace as he turned his head to the side to sneeze again. 

“Hehhhh’ESHHhhhuhh…hh’huhh’USHHhhoo…huhhh’ERRRSSHHOO!” Blitzo watched him pant and sniffle for a moment before Striker pulled a bandana from his pocket. He rubbed roughly at his nose with the fabric before turning away to blow his nose. 

Blitzo felt a bit like a kid on christmas watching the sexy cowboy sneezing from his allergies acting up. 

Striker turned back to him, face a little flushed. “Dinner will be uh-up soon. You should head on in, Blitz.” 

Blitzo grinned wide and unrepentant, tail tip flicking happily (and hornily) at the catch of Striker's breath. “Nah, I'm good here. This fence is surprisingly comfy,” his voice dropped a little into a flirtatious teasing tone, “and you're putting on quite the show, cowboy.”

“Shows over,” Striker growled, body stiff with tension, tail giving a brief rattle.

“You know….I don't think it is.” 

“You think I'm some kind ofhhh…of rodeo clown,” he snarled taking an aggressive step towards Blitzo.

“Hey clowning is an honorable profession I'll have you know,” Blitzo said snippily, but with only a bit of actual offense. “No, this is all part of the show I've been enjoying - sexy fucking cowboy doing sexy things. No one's laughing here.”

He slid off the fence post to lean against it, hips and legs posed provocatively and not hiding his interest. Striker's eyes went wide with surprise as he realized Blitzo was being entirely honest. And then he huffed with exasperated amusement and Blitzo grinned.

“You're a real freak, Blitz,” Striker accused, but his tone was all smooth and teasing again. “It's something blooming out by the hay. It's been driving me….crazy…huhhh…ah-all week…”

“Fuuuck,” Blitzo groaned, his tail wrapping around his own thigh and squeezing as he sunk his claws into the fence post to keep himself from reaching into his pants for some relief. 

Striker shot Blitzo a watery eyed smirk. His nostrils flared wide and he sniffed involuntarily as the inner walls fluttered with irritation. “Huhhh…hh’huh…Huhhh’UHSHHHoo…Hh’RRUZSHHooo…hheh’hhh’EHHSHUHH…” Striker groaned and brought the clean side of his bandana to his nose, muffling the next set of sneezes. Blitzo was trying to commit every minute to memory for when he jerked off to this in the future, and also in his van five minutes from now. 

“Huh’MPHHHshhuh….ESSHHHuhh…ERRRRSSHHmphh…” Striker blew his nose again and rubbed at it between his fingers. Blitzo moaned softly, tail twitching with sexual frustration. 

“Fuck. I gotta go wash this shit off,” Striker growled irritably but when he looked up at Blitzo his face shifted right back into that sexy smug smirk. “And I'll give you some alone time.”

“Yeah, yeah. Fuck you,” he snarked back without real heat. “Thanks for the show.”

Striker barked a laugh and turned away to walk towards the house. “You have yourself a good night, Blitz,” he called back to him and Blitzo could hear the shit eating grin in his voice.

“Damn sexy asshole,” Blitzo muttered to himself before awkwardly scrambling to his van for some desperately needed alone time.

—-

And that's all folks!

Please let me know if you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!

[ Snz Fic Masterlist ]

And I'm taking fic requests for Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel, so feel to send them over. Or feel free to share your headcanons if you got’em!

[writingforfishes]

This is a weird question, but I respect you quite a bit when it comes to indulging in one's kink.

Do you ever feel a separation between body and mind when it comes to being turned on by hiccups? With it being a niche kink but a common occurrence, I often feel my mind fighting my body whenever I see or hear hiccups. My body immediately switches to "oh yeah it's sex time" but my mind is like "no no no it's time to be normal about hiccups please stop." It's almost painful in a way, physically and mentally.

Sorry if this is too weird for you, and feel free not to answer. But I guess I just wanted to make sure I'm not a freak or anything

This is NOT a weird question (in my opinion).

I'd like to believe this is a pretty common phenomenon for those who have innocuous triggers to being aroused.

I'd assume that people who feel aroused by sneezes and belches experience something pretty similar.

While I don't have sex, I do get aroused. So, when someone has hiccups around me, I have to do a block on my body's carnal reaction and my desire to solve that situation.

If it comes up that I must talk to a person hiccuping, I do so in a violently present way. I focus on THEM and specifically ignore their hiccups as best I can. I am heightened to how I'm presenting to the other person. I school myself. I present my knowledge of hiccups in a quirky way of a person who went too far into a deep dive on the internet one day and suddenly has all of this information. (I do that often so it's not too hard to find the words for the excuse.)

I don't wholly enjoy interacting with someone who has the hiccups (though part of me does find the idea enticing). If given a choice I'd rather be able to watch someone hiccup without interacting with them. More and more real-life encounters don't appeal to me more than consenting video/audio encounters or fictional representations where consent isn't required.

I told my therapist of my shame connected to my kink (without telling her what my kink is) and she presented the idea that getting aroused in public is not inherently a bad thing. The truth is people get aroused in public a LOT.

The only time getting aroused in public becomes an issue is when someone acts on that arousal and does something offensive to the object/person of that arousal. But just being aroused isn't inherently bad. You don't necessarily need to run away from situations. (Unless your arousal is physically obvious and can't be hidden, I think is the only caveat to that.)

I hope it gives you some solace to know that you aren't the only one experiencing the need to disassociate from the aroused parts of your body when hiccups come up in public.

Addendum: You mentioned it feeling "almost painful" to suppress or deal with the reactions to hiccups in public and them being arousing. I wonder if some of this pain might be caused by guilt and shame as opposed to discomfort? If this is the case, I hope this entry can ease some of that mental anguish that might be increasing the painful discomfort you're experiencing.

[softblesses]

Winter is Here.

This is a fic created for the lovers of sickfic & some snz, mostly just created for my self indulgence. Please don’t reblog to non-kink blogs. It hasn’t been fully beta read or edited yet, but I’m impatient.

Feel free to hop into my dms to discuss and yell about N/eal Ca/ffrey & the show in general! I’m on a rewatch and back in my hyper fixate stages. I’m not done writing for these lot just yet!

~Part 1 below the line~

“Dammit, Neal. .” Was a phrase Peter Burke found himself saying multiple times a day, several times a week. His CI was late again, and hasn’t been answering his phone. Granted, it’s only been half an hour, but there’s no telling when Neal will arrive or what excuse he’ll come up with this time.

Eventually, almost two hours later, Peter spots him making his way across the bullpen and upstairs. There’s a coffee cup in his hand, of course, and his hat is slightly askew and dusted with snow.

“And what time do you call this, exactly?” Peter mutters, not looking up from his paperwork as he flicks through another page and sighs.

A pause. “I’m guessing you don’t want me to answer with the exact time?” Neal questions, removing his hat and taking a seat, tipping the cup up to his mouth to finish the hot drink up.

Peter sighs once again, simply sliding a pile of papers Neal’s way. “Paperwork day, congratulations,” he mutters, glancing up at his informant and watching his disappointed facial expression towards the task at hand.

Neal picks up a pen from the conference room desk, and scans over the pages. He flicks through them pages, click-clacks the pen a few times, and sighs heavily, followed by a yawn.

“Boring you already?” Peter hums, gaze still concentrated on the work before him as he hunches over.

“Somethin’ like that,” Neal mutters back, moving to stand.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Burke sits upright, an eyebrow quirked upwards and arms folding neatly across his chest.

“Jeez, Peter. A man isn’t allowed to use the bathroom anymore?” His hands held up in surrender, before making his way to the door.

Heading across the bullpen, his pace a little slower than usual, Neal clears his throat; once, twice. It’s still scratchy, and he’d assumed it was just lack of water whilst sleeping overnight. He sniffles next, and surely that was just the freeze in the air outside; winter has dawned upon New York with a vengeance, and the chill he feels certainly confirms that much. But, a second before he reaches the men’s room, he sneezes. Not all that unusual. . . It happens, from time to time.

He eventually makes his way back to the conference room, blinking a few times and sniffling again. He should’ve warmed up by now; the office has heating, and usually he has no issues with temperature regulation. But something isn’t quite right this morning. Neal sits, shifting uncomfortably as he stares at the page in front of him. He’s always hated this part of their deal, working the cases and having to fill in page after page of writing afterwards — especially after a particularly in-depth job. But, it’s not that bad , and usually they get pizza and coffees and he’ll complain until Peter lets him take a break or two.

Today, Neal Caffrey is almost silent. Peter doesn’t like that, because a silent Neal means something is up. He’s planning something, or working on some sort of escape out of the inevitable boredom of paperwork, surely.

“Neal?” Peter calls for a second time, staring across at his partner. “Anyone home?”

Watering blue eyes glance upwards, and a quick swipe of his hand dries them off. “What?” He doesn’t mean to snap, but he’s tired, and Peter’s bothering him for something that will most likely be a quip against him. It doesn’t usually bother him, but today he doesn’t want to hear it.

“Jeez, someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, huh?”

“I was asking, do you want pizza? My treat.”

Neal looks back down at his papers, subtly trying to rub at his nose. “No, thanks. I ate.” It’s not all a lie. He had a pastry before leaving the house, but now he really wasn’t hungry.

Squinting at him, Peter shrugs. Something was off about him today, and he’ll get to the bottom of it. . After he rounds up the others, and gets their pizza orders in. He leaves the room after a minute or two, and Neal sinks down in his chair with a relieved sigh. He reaches into his suit pocket for the few squares of tissue he’d taken from the bathroom, and pats at his nose. Neal Caffrey doesn’t get sick. He thought to himself, stifling a sneeze against his wrist and rubbing his eyes.

He gets to his feet after that, collecting up his papers and sneaking out of the room and to his desk. It’ll be easier to concentrate here, that’s what he’ll tell Peter. He’s just tired, and the weather is making his head all fuzzy. In fact, he barely notices Peter coming up behind him, and he even uncharacteristically flinches as a hand settles on his shoulder a moment later.

“Everything okay?”

“Fine.” Neal deadpans, scrawling some notes onto his sheet.

“You sure?”

“Peter, I’m just doing what I’m not paid for. Can concentrate better down here — Jones chews too loud.” He mutters, and really, it’s not exactly a lie.

“Alright. . Pizza’s gonna be up there soon if you want some.” The footsteps wander away, and Neal’s left alone again.

An hour passes by, and then another, and Peter’s keeping an eye on Neal through the glass of the conference room. In fairness, he hasn’t seen him do anything particularly strange. . . Aside from visit the bathroom once or twice, and make his way back and forth from the water cooler. Maybe he’s calling the short friend. Or, maybe he’s just thirsty. Either way, he seems grumpy and Peter would rather leave him to sulk about the paperwork day alone, if that’s what gives them some peace for the rest of the afternoon.

The day begins to draw to a close as the clock ticks closer to five pm, yet the piles of papers don’t seem to be dissipating at the same rate. Peter exhales heavily as he signs off on another report, placing it carefully on top of the other one. He’d sent Jones home a few minutes ago, and Lauren too. They didn’t have as much to do, and the weather looked to be worsening — the both of them lived further than Peter does.

His eyebrows raise as there’s a small knock at the door, and his eyes light up at the pleasant sight of his wife. Peter stands, grinning now. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He questions, stepping closer and giving her a kiss on the cheek. . . But, she doesn’t look as happy to see him as he does her.

Uh oh. What did he do now?

“Well, I was on my way home and wanted to bring you some warm treats. . .” El trails off, folding her arms with the paper bag still in hand.

“But?” Peter adds expectantly, genuinely dumbfounded.

“Have you seen Neal?”

“Oh, God, what did he —“ the agent glances over at Neal’s desk, surprised to see he’s still there. Not only

Is he still there, but. . .

“Is he asleep?” Peter scoffs out something of a laugh, shaking his head. “Working hard or hardly workin’, huh?”

“Peter!” El scolds, giving him a light tap on the arm.

“What?!”

“Have you actually paid attention to him? C’mon.” She gestures for her husband to follow her down into the bullpen, and all the way to Neal’s desk. He’s snoring, head resting against his arm. His cheeks seem to display a light flush, and the tip of his nose looks irritated and red.

Peter frowns.

“Honey, he’s sick. He must be exhausted!” El whispers, a look of genuine sympathy crossing her features. “We need to take him home. He needs fluids and rest, not paperwork and scolding.”

Peter is speechless for a moment. Neal? Sick? He’d thought he was simply up to something, and in a bad mood because of their boring day of work. He supposes it makes sense now — avoiding him, going to the bathroom more often and drinking lots of water. He must’ve been trying to soothe a sore throat, and had clearly been hiding it from Peter, too.

“He pulled a health con on me. .” He mutters, watching as his wife gently rouses his CI from the slumber he’s been in for God knows how long. Some Detective, huh?

Neal sits up fast, a sharp intake of breath causing a light bout coughing. There’s a sheet of paper stuck to his cheek, and his hair is disheveled and sweaty. Peter tries not to laugh at the sight, as bad as he feels for him at the same time.

“Contrary to popular belief,” Neal mumbles, voice thick with congestion now. “I was not asleep. I was envisioning. . Paperwork, with my eyes. Closed. My eyes closed.”

El pouts, looking at Peter, before reaching to pluck the stuck paper from Neal’s cheek. “I think you’re a little feverish, honey. Let’s get you home.” She offers Neal an arm, to which he takes without question; a dazed sort of look in his usually bright blue eyes. Peter gathers up their things, and they begin to lead the confused conman to their car outside.

“What about the paperwork?” Neal asks, frowning as he’s ushered into the elevator. “Peter always makes me do paperwork. El, did you know? Your husband. . He’s mean.” Neal ‘whispers,’ and leans against the wall for support.

“It can wait,” Peter answers simply. “And, I’m not mean.”

“He didn’t give me pizza.”

“You didn’t want pizza!”

“El, he’s shouting at me.” Neal pouts, closing his eyes and resting his head against her shoulder. She places an arm around him to keep him steady, biting against her bottom lip to keep in a chuckle. He’s clearly still sleepy, and somewhat delirious. Poor thing.

They manage to get Neal to the car in one piece, and Peter gets in the driver’s seat, whilst El sits in the back to keep an eye on their passenger. She glances at him, watching his teeth chatter and listening to him sniffle. He must’ve been feeling off all day, and the weather certainly can’t be helping anything.

“Neal?” She says softly, frowning as he flinches at the car engine starting up.

It takes a moment, but he looks at her, somewhat of a lucid gaze staring back.

“Tissue?” She smiles, offering him a packet that she had in her bag. He reaches for it, mumbling a quiet and stuffy ‘thanks,’ before plucking one out and holding it to his nose.

The rest of the car ride is mostly silent, with Neal resting his head against the cooling car window, and drifting off to sleep before they’d even left the parking garage building. Elizabeth and Peter exchange whispered conversation along the way, until they pull up outside their house and quietly argue about who has to wake Neal.

“But, he looks so peaceful!”

“He can’t stay in the car, he’ll get cold. C’mon.” Peter opens his door, and walks around the side of the car to let Elizabeth out.

She sighs, giving her husband a kiss on the cheek. “Get the stove heated and the ingredients for tomato soup onto the counter, would you? I’ll bring him inside.” He nods, giving her hand a squeeze, before making his way up to their front door and unlocking it.

“Neal, sweetie?” She’s careful when opening the car door, aware that he’s leaning against it. “We’re here.”

The chill of the air outside is enough to wake him up with a start, looking around in confusion and taking a moment to gather his surroundings. “Elizabeth,” Neal murmurs. “This is. . . Not my apartment.”

“Nope,” she hums back, reaching in to help him undo his seatbelt. “You’re staying for dinner. Come on.”

It takes them a short while, but she manages to get Neal up and out of the car, into the house and up the stairs. She brings him a pair of sweatpants Peter never wears, so that he can at least tie them up to fit a little better, and a long sleeved plaid pyjama shirt to change into.

“I’ll be just outside the door, alright?” She leaves the bathroom door ajar, so that she can listen to make sure he doesn’t fall over whilst getting changed. Thankfully, it all seems to go smoothly, and El is soon helping him downstairs and onto the couch.

Covering him up with a blanket, and giving his hair a little ruffle. “Let me get you some Tylenol for that temperature of yours,” she tells him softly, making her way into the kitchen to check on Peter first.

She brings him back a large glass of water and two Tylenol pills, carefully handing them to him and telling him to ‘drink up, slowly.’

Neal does as he’s instructed to, grimacing at the feeling in his throat as the pills slide down. His head rests against the back of the couch afterwards in defeat, and he looks at Elizabeth with an expression that could break even the coldest of hearts.

“You really are sick, huh?” She says quietly, placing his glass down on the coffee table. “Well, I’m making soup as we speak. I’ll get Peter to come sit with you.”

Neal shakes his head.

“He won’t bite,” she teases. “He’s worried about you, y’know. But, keep that a secret between us, okay?” A smile crosses her features, before she turns and makes her way back to the kitchen.

Neal feels the couch cushions get a little heavier beside him, and opens his eyes to spy Peter now sitting beside him. He doesn’t have the energy to say anything, and it hurts his throat to even try. He simply blinks, sniffles, and closes his eyes again.

“Who would’ve thought it?” Peter begins, reaching to tuck the blanket around Neal a little tighter; noting him tense up, but relax a moment later. “Neal Caffrey, famous con artist, forger and art thief,, befelled by the common cold, of all things. Why couldn’t you have been sick when I was chasing you? Would’ve saved me a damn load of time.”

“Alleged,” Neal croaks, opening his eyes again to glare at his handler.

Peter laughs, reaching out to pat the poor man’s shoulder.

“I could still beat you if I had the plague.” He mutters next, hiding his face under the blanket. ‘Hh—xght.’ Another stifled sneeze, although not all that well this time.

“Bless you, and, I doubt that very much. Looking at you now, you couldn’t run anywhere. Not even to the bathroom, I doubt.”

Neal pops back up again, sniffling and glaring still. “You don’t know that.” He whispers, reaching for the tissue box on the coffee table; Peter handing it to him, so that he doesn’t have to leave his blanket.

“Is that why you didn’t wanna have pizza with us today? Or work with me?” Peter asks quietly, leaning back against the couch cushions and grimacing slightly at the noise of Neal blowing his nose beside him.

A long pause. “Are you sure you’re FBI?” Neal quips, his voice still as scratchy as sandpaper.

Before Peter can make a comment back, El’s coming out of the kitchen, holding a tray for Neal. “Homemade soup, comin’ right up!” She smiles, setting it carefully down upon the coffee table. “No pressure to eat a lot, just have what you can.” She reassures gently, handing him the bowl.

“Thank you,” Neal mutters quielty, and it’s only for a second, but El could’ve sworn she saw his eyes get a little teary.

They leave Neal to eat his soup, fetching their own bowls and taking a seat at the table. He doesn’t eat much, but the feeling of the warm soup against his aching throat is nice. The steam is nice too, and he simply sits there for a while with the bowl held up to his face, before putting it back on the tray and curling up into the blankets.

“Do you think anyone has ever done this before?” El asks, stirring her soup absent minderdly, as she watches over Neal ftom across the room.

“What? See Neal Caffrey act like a little, stubborn kid?” Peter retorts, picking up a piece of bread and taking a large bite.

El rolls her eyes, but there’s a fond look on her face as she shakes her head. “No,” she answers. “Take care of him. You know? He looked so. . . Shocked, when I brought him the soup. D’you think he’s always been alone in this sort of thing?” She considers, her own heart feeling heavy at the notion of Neal being all alone and unwell.

Peter falls quiet, dipping his bread into his soup for so long that it falls in. “Ah, crap—“ he mutters to himself, sighing. “You’re probably right. . He probably hasn’t been looked after. I don’t know much about his past, but I don’t doubt it was lonely.” He looks up at El, a sad sort of smile on his face.

“But, he’s got us now.”

•••

Neal wakes up two hours later, to the sound of the television on low volume, and quiet voices chatting around him. He blinks slow, looking around; Peter’s sitting on the floor in front of him, with Satchmo resting on his legs. Someone’s beside him, too. . . Must be El. Everything still feels heavy, but he doesn’t feel as shivery anymore. It still hurts to swallow, but feels a little less like knives now, at least.

“Neal,” a soft, female voice breaks his train of thought. Elizabeth. “How’re you feeling?”

It takes him a minute to answer, but opening his mouth to talk somehow becomes a cough instead, and the next thing he knows someone is handing him water. Oh, Peter. Peter’s kind to him. He takes a long drink, shakily passing it back and moving to sit a little better.

“Tired,” Neal answers, voice even more hoarse from lack of use during his nap.

“Do you want to go up to bed? Guest room is all set up for you.” Elizabeth offers, reaching out to gently rest her palm against his arm.

Neal thinks on it for a moment, scrunching his nose and trying to rid of the itch whilst he does so. A shake of his head; upstairs means being alone. Downstairs means being warm, and comfortable and with Peter and Elizabeth. It’s safe downstairs.

He moves a moment later though, and both Peter and El’s gazes immediately snap towards his direction.

“‘M just going to the bathroom.” Neal informs, trying his best to escape the entanglement of blankets without any help. . Failing miserably, and having Elizabeth help him unwravel.

He denies needing help, taking quite a while upstairs, before eventually re-emerging and taking each stair very slowly and one at a time. Peter decides that as funny this situation is, he doesn’t like it one bit. Neal usually bounds down the stairs, with the same energy as a golden retriever — and the cheerfulness of one too.

“You sure you don’t want to go to bed?” Peter asks, earning a frown from Neal as Elizabeth tucks him back in.

“You know. . .” El begins, giving Neal’s hair another little ruffle and passing him his water. “When I got sick as a kid, my Dad used to let me have a ‘couch bed’ night. He’d set me up on the couch downstairs, and we’d watch my favourite movies and drink hot chocolates, until I fell asleep. How about we do the same?” She suggests, smiling at the two men beside her.

A small smile forms upon Neal’s face, and he nods. A couch bed night sounds nice. He’s never had one of those before.

•••

El and Peter stay downstairs for the majority of the evening and into the night; Neal didn’t take long to fall asleep, and only woke up once, before the husband and wife made their own ways to bed, leaving the bedroom door open incase Neal needs anything during the night. Things seem to stay peaceful, until a thud from downstairs rouses El from her slumber, and she’s quick to shake Peter awake, too.

“Did you hear that?” She whispers, sitting bolt upright.

“No, but I guess it’s my problem now. .” Peter mumbles, still half asleep as he moves to sit up.

The sound of Satchmo whining confirms to Elizabeth that she didn’t wake up for nothing, and she’s already rushing out of the room and down the stairs before Peter can even plant his feet upon the floor. But, she wasn’t expecting to find Satchmo with his paws resting against Neal’s knees, and the quiet sound of. . . Crying?

“Neal?” Her voice is soft, so as not to startle him. “What happened? Are you hurt?” She crouches beside him, and Peter soon makes his way downstairs.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. . Neal, honey? Did you have a bad dream?” She reaches out, and he flinches away, not quite lucid enough to register their company.

A soft gasp falls from her lips, and she stands. “He’s burning. I’ll get some things, will you calm him down?” She reaches to give Satchmo a pat, and turns to make a beeline for the stairs.

A quiet sigh follows after that, and Peter takes a seat beside Neal. Unsure if he’s even lucid enough to understand him, he reaches out slowly to rub the other’s arm, in attempt to somewhat comfort. “You know I don’t do so great when people cry,” Peter keeps his voice quiet. “But, I’ll make an exception here; just this once.” He gives Neal’s shoulder a careful squeeze, painfully aware of how warm he is.

“She’s gone, Peter. .”

Ah, so is he somewhat aware of his presence.

“It was a dream, Neal. You’ve got a fever — it makes your dreams worse. You’re alright now.” He reassures gently, turning his head at the sound of his wife’s footsteps drawing closer again.

“Here, Neal. It’s for your temperature. Can you open your mouth, for me?” It takes a moment of repeating herself, but he eventually complies, and Peter reaches to switch on a lamp so that they can see better.

Neal’s shivering makes it so that he can’t keep the thermometer in place independently, so Elizabeth carefully holds it in place for him. A sympathetic expression is stuck upon her face, and she gently reaches to wipe away some of Neal’s tears.

“We’ll get you some medicine and you’ll be feeling less upset,” she reassures gently, removing the thermometer as it begins to beep at an urgent pace.

‘103.6.’ Is the reading on the screen, and she turns it around to show Peter. He gives a disapproving shake of his head (which is really out of concern,) and reaches to move Neal’s blanket. But, the sound of a tired sob and the weak grip of Neal’s fingers stop him.

“Alright, he can keep the blanket. I’ll get him some water for the Tylenol.” Peter mutters, wasting no time in fetching what they need and returning to Elizabeth trying to help Neal clean up his tear stricken cheeks.

Taking a seat beside him again while Elizabeth takes the almost empty glass from him, she watches as Neal begins to lean to one side, until he’s resting against Peter’s arm. “Y—you’re not gone?” The CI murmurs, sniffling as his teeth chatter togerher.

“We’re not gone, Neal. We’re right here. El’s getting you a cool cloth for your forehead.” He wraps an arm around him, carefully guiding Neal’s head against his chest to make him more comfortable. If this is where he’ll sleep and calm down, so be it. Peter can sacrifice a few hours of rest to help his friend.

The cool cloth is placed gently against his forehead, and both El and Peter stay with him until his shivering has dissipated and he’s fast asleep again.

“Never seen him like that before,” Peter whispers. “And I don’t ever want to see it again.”

Elizabeth reaches to take her husband’s free hand. “Think you can carry him to the guest room? No use having an FBI agent completely sleep deprived, and his CI with neck ache from sleeping like that.”

“I’ll have you know, I make a great pillow.” Peter whispers back, assessing the current situation for a moment. “I can carry him.”

It takes almost an hour, but Neal’s fever eventually goes down to a low grade one again, and they can all rest easy for the rest of the night. He’s safe in the guest room beside them, his congested snoring heard in the master bedroom. But, neither of the couple in the bed mind it. It’s a comforting reminder that he’s asleep.

[cattewife]

moving in

(a h/ualian modern au snzfic, part 3)

rating: E word count: ~6800 fandom: m/xtx t/gcf contains: (still) sneezing while fucking some mess, maybe escalating? (still attempts not to be graphic) allergic!h/ua c/heng, fet!x/ie l/ian the continuation of their sickening feelings-about-fetish banter two (2) in-text images (1 nsfw on ao3) x/ie l/ian moves in with h/ua c/heng at last, along with his cat, r/uoye, that h/ua c/heng is very allergic to.   he definitely won't lose it in front of his boyfriend immediately! (he will.) everything about this is going to be fine! (it is.)

>> read it on archiveofourown HERE <<

>> (post for part 1 here) << >> (post for part 2 here) <<

[ pls do not reblog to non snz/kink blogs! ]

[snnprins-ya]

Be quiet! A short snz fic

Thank you to @suspisouspain for the idea!

where Anna and lily desperately try to keep quiet.

(F) snz, allergies.

MINORS DNI! DO NOT REBLOG TO NON KINK BLOGS!!

Anna and Lily darted into the dimly lit room, their breaths shallow and frantic. The old mansion creaked around them, the sounds of footsteps growing closer by the second. “Oh no, oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Anna whispered, her voice barely audible. Her eyes widened in panic as she backed into a corner, her hand pressing against her small, straight nose—well, straight from the front. In profile, the delicate bump along the bridge was more noticeable, and right now, that bump was starting to itch like crazy.

Lily whipped around, her eyes scanning the rustic, cluttered room, until she spotted it. There, perched on a dusty shelf, was a cat—a fluffy, long-tailed creature whose mere presence was a ticking time bomb for Anna. Lily’s heart skipped a beat. “What do we do?” she whispered in a panic, glancing back at Anna, who was already scrunching her nose as if that alone could hold back the inevitable.

“Make it go away!” Anna hissed, her voice strained as she pinched her nose with her fingers, trying to stave off the growing itch. “Try and scare it off!”

Lily nodded, tiptoeing toward the cat with frantic hand gestures, attempting to shoo it away without making a sound. But instead of leaving, the cat hopped from the shelf to a nearby cabinet, edging closer to Anna, its green eyes gleaming mischievously as though it knew exactly what it was doing.

The itch in Anna’s nose grew stronger, the tickle curling deep in her sinuses, making her nostrils twitch. She’s so allergic. She always have been. It was her biggest weakness. The way a simple presence of the animal made her cheeks flush uncomfortably and her nostrils quiver with an impending desperate sneeze. Just her luck. To be stuck in this small room with the one thing that made her loose any ounce of self control. Her nose twitched. Her breath hitched involuntarily, the sensation building despite her best efforts. “L-Lily…” she stammered, pressing her fingers harder against her nose. “It’s—”

Lily turned to see Anna, cornered against the wall, desperately fighting the sneeze. The cat now sat triumphantly on the cabinet, its fluffy tail swaying back and forth in slow, deliberate movements, sending tiny hairs drifting into the air. Anna’s nose twitched again, the tip turning a deep shade of red as her eyes watered. The tickle was unbearable now, the urge to sneeze rising in waves.

“Nng’ktch!” Anna stifled the first sneeze, her fingers pinched tightly over her nose. “Hng’etch!” Another one followed, her body jerking with each repressed sound. Lily bit her lip, eyes wide as she watched Anna try to hold herself together.

“Control yourself!” Lily whispered, darting over to her, looking frantically between the cat and Anna, who was losing the battle by the second.

“I’m—hih—I’m trying!” Anna gasped, her voice strained as her breath hitched again, her nostrils flaring wide with each intake of air. Just as her mouth opened, ready for another sneeze, Lily acted on instinct. She pressed her forefinger under Anna’s quivering nose, gently pushing up against the bottom of her flared, round nostrils.

Anna’s eyes fluttered, the tickle subsiding just enough for her to let out a shaky breath. “Thank god,” Lily muttered, relieved as the sneezing fit seemed to wane. She lowered her finger without thinking, turning toward the door to listen for any sign of the approaching men.

But just as Lily moved away, Anna’s face contorted again. “Nng’ktch! Hng’etch! Ae’ktch!” A rapid-fire series of sneezes burst from her, leaving no room for breath as her small nose twitched uncontrollably.

The cat, still sitting smugly on the cabinet, flicked its tail lazily, sending more fur floating toward Anna. Her nostrils quivered as she felt the soft hairs land on her face, and she tried to form words between the growing sneezes. “Oh—n-no…” she stuttered, her breath hitching wildly, the sneeze building with unstoppable force.

In a panic, Lily rushed back to her side, pressing her entire palm over Anna’s mouth and nose to muffle the sounds. “Stay quiet!” she urged, her hand firm against Anna’s red, irritated nose. Anna’s eyes were watery now, her nostrils leaking as she fought to control herself, but the urge to sneeze was relentless.

“Nng’ktch! Nng’ktch!” Anna stifled two more sneezes into Lily’s palm, her nose now a deep shade of crimson, nostrils flared wide beneath Lily’s hand. Her entire face was flushed, her eyes glassy and desperate.

Just as Lily thought things couldn’t get worse, the cat leapt gracefully off the cabinet, landing on a lower shelf right next to Anna’s head. It stretched, its long, poofy tail brushing gently against her cheek, the ends of his hairs tickling her sensitive irritated pathetic nose. and with that, it was over.

Anna gasped, the tickle overwhelming her. Her breath hitched one final time, the sneeze building, unstoppable. Her face contorting into an almost moaning expression. Her mouth wide and her eyes screwed shut. Her nostrils, pink and wet, shook with a tremble as her breaths builder up. “Hih—hih—”

With no other option, Lily pressed her hand harder against Anna’s nose, trying to muffle what was sure to be an explosive, uncontrollable sneeze. Anna’s face was a mess—her red nose twitching beneath Lily’s palm, her eyes streaming, and her mouth slightly open, trying desperately to hold it all in.

“Nng’ktch! Hng’ktch! Ae’ktch!” Anna sneezed into Lily’s hand, the sound stifled but still strong, her body jerking with the force of each sneeze. Lily’s eyes widened in alarm as she tried to keep Anna from making too much noise, her heart pounding as the footsteps outside the room grew louder.

The cat, satisfied with its chaos, sauntered out of the small ventilation window by the ceiling of the room, leaving the two women to their fate.

[kushami-hime]

CW: Fantasy! AU, magic user! listener, traveling w/ B/akugo, barbarian/fantasy! B/akugo, fluff, cold denial, build ups & holdbacks, loud sneezing, sniffling/snuffling, one nose blow, three stifles, B/akugo being a jerk, as usual, slight world building if you squint, thunder & rain sounds, cold & shivery B/akugo, cuddling to stay warm

After setting off on a journey with Barbarian Prince B/akugo, a horrific thunderstorm seems to have appeared out of nowhere and has been following you for some time. It doesn’t seem like much of an issue...until your companion starts to show signs of fatigue and perhaps illness. You both have no choice but to endure the rain and take shelter, while trying to find a way to fight off the chill plaguing your friend. 

I know, no one really has been asking for B/aku (Im gonna start on S/hinsou stuff soon I promise I just dont know what his voice OR sneeze should sound like) but I needed a test wav to see how my half assed blanket fort recording studio did, and...to me? the one listening to the wav over and over while I edit? It’s an improvement. I’ve got a noise cancelling blanket on the way from Amazon so hopefully that’ll help even more.

I promise I’m going to get back onto these asks and the like soon, but if it means making the wavs come out better, ya may wanna expect more experimental wav & recording tests

Buuut anyway, I got fantasy au on the brain, had this sitting in my scripts for a while, thought I’d use it to test the sound quality.

Love you guys, ttyl, I’m goin to bed

Also be sure to check out the intro piece I did for The Dragons Prize. It’s got no snz but probably has the best editing I’ve ever done for a wav so far and I couldn’t NOT shaaaare

MINORS DNI. NON KINK BLOGS DO NOT REBLOG! 

[accidentalmistress]

Accidental Mistress - Library Magic (NSFW)

It's that time again! Today's release is a spicy one, and possibly one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy.

(For more Accidental Mistress content, check out the Master Post.)

Please do not reblog to non kink blogs, minors DNI.

Title: Library Magic

Word Count: 3,300

Content and Warnings: snz (male), NSFW

In which Oraion accompanies his Mistress Noelle to study dusty, old arcane tomes at a library, with predictable results.

----------------------------

The Tigate Librarium had stood in the central square of Tigate City for so long, no one was certain anymore if the Librarium was named for the City, or the City for the Librarium. What was certain, however, was that the current Head Librarian, Ms Ogtrop, was both the most efficient and organized Head the Librarium had ever employed, and also its most terrifying.

At six foot three, it was uncommon, though not entirely unheard of, for Demon Lord Oraion Leroux to meet those of his height or slightly taller. Encountering a mortal he needed to crane his neck to look at, though, was about as common as convincing a lindwyrm to play fetch, so the fact that he needed to tilt his head a fair degree to make eye contact with the Head Librarian was a novel, if somewhat unnerving, experience. The green cast of her skin and short tusks jutting from her lower lip only added to the singularity of the encounter. A full-blooded orc was a rare sight these days.

“Those books are on the second floor, Section B, fifth row, third bookcase, shelves four through seven. All books in that Section are restricted, and as such can neither be checked out nor leave the Librarium. Is that clear?”

“As crystal, ma’am.”

“Good. And if you think for a moment that you could possibly get away with smuggling any volumes out… Don’t. I will know. I always know.”

Oraion did his best to appear as a physical manifestation of conciliation. “Wouldn’t dream of it, ma’am.”

“Good.” The Librarian paused and took a moment to look Oraion up and down with her golden eyes. “My shift ends at eight o’clock, by the way.”

This, at least, was more familiar territory. Throughout his long life, Oraion had turned down countless hopefuls, though this time he had to admit he was tempted. The thighs that peeked out below the hem of Ogtrop’s skirt—the cut of which was painfully inadequate at fulfilling any sort of intended modesty on her towering frame—looked like they’d crack a watermelon like a walnut. A night with her promised to leave you with bruises and bite marks—and you’d thank her for the privilege. Instead Oraion inclined his head with grace.

“You flatter me, madam, but I am afraid I must decline. I am already spoken for.”

“Hm. Pity. However, your integrity is laudable. Well then, please note that eight o’clock is also when the Librarium closes, so you would do well to conclude your business before then.”

“Of course. Thank you so much for your help.”

“Yes, yes. Now, if you will excuse me, I have business to attend to.”

The imposing Librarian turned on her heel and marched off, her heavy footfalls reverberating through the floor with a rhythmic beat. Oraion’s gaze lingered just a moment on the way her full hips moved, then he returned to where his Mistress, Noelle Violette, waited by the entrance, wringing the end of her scarf.

“Were you able to find anything out?”

“I was indeed. The Head Librarian gave me the location of the arcane tomes you’re looking for—come, I’ll show you where they are.”

He guided Noelle to where Ms Ogtrop had indicated, passing along the rules for the handling of restricted books as they went.

“They can't be checked out? I suppose that makes sense, but… Augh, that means I'll only have a few hours to study them! I was hoping to take them back to the inn with us tonight and then bring them back before we leave to go home tomorrow…”

Oraion chuckled. “And did this plan of yours involve any sleep?”

A light blush of pink came to Noelle’s fair cheeks. “Well, some I’m sure, but this is a rare opportunity! I could always catch up on sleep later. Besides, that won’t matter if I can’t check them out. I’ll just have to use the time I do have wisely.”

Row after row of shelves were stuffed with a multitude of tomes. The air was laced with the scent of old paper and leather. Once they located the desired shelves, Noelle browsed through the volumes, pointing out a number of titles with great interest and enthusiasm.

“Oh! Look at this! They have a first edition copy of Nolan Kingston’s The Grimoire of Stars! And these scrolls—they’re from Tsothatan’s Noth-Yngath Esoterica! Just look at all of these: Artum Codex, Librum of Ninai, The Book of Far Realms— Oh my goodness, they have a copy of Tome of the Watcher! After it was published, the author Soth Sholei disappeared, and no one ever found out what happened to them!”

As she babbled excitedly about the texts, she handed book after book to Oraion until he was carrying a sizable, and somewhat heavy, stack. He couldn’t help but notice a thin layer of dust on most of them. Just the thought of it made his nose twitch. A smirk tugged his lips: perhaps this little study session wouldn’t be as boring as he’d feared.

“Mistress, I think perhaps this is enough to get started, at least. In fact, I’m not convinced you’ll be able to get through all of these before the Librarium closes.”

Noelle gave a little start, like she was waking up from a dream. “Oh! You’re right, I-I’m so sorry. Let’s find somewhere to sit down.”

Nearby were long, oaken tables surrounded by a large number of stout chairs with plush seats, all of which were presently vacant. The entire section of the Librarium they were in appeared quite deserted. Oraion carefully placed the stack of books on the table and took a seat next to Noelle, pulling his chair against hers. There were no arm rests, so they were close enough to touch, especially if Oraion leaned in.

“I hope you don’t mind if I read a bit over your shoulder? There might be something I can help with, after all.”

“Oh, um, a-all right.”

He ducked his head so his lips were close to her ear and dropped his voice.

“Always nice to have one’s nose in a good book.” He brushed the tip of his nose against the outer edge of her ear for emphasis. He felt a shiver run through her.

“Oraion, I-I don’t think now is the time…”

“Oh, of course, Mistress. My apologies. I wouldn’t want to disrupt your studies. Shall we begin?”

He took the tome from the top of the stack and placed it on the table in front of them.

“The Book of Sorcery. A fairly straightforward title.”

He flipped open the dusty manuscript with a flourish and probably a bit more force than was strictly necessary. In the light of the arcane reading lamps that hovered above the table, little globes of light encased within intricate brass cages, he caught a shimmer of swirling dust particles. Things were bound to get interesting now.

“So, Mistress, what would you like to review?”

“Hm, let me check the table of contents.”

As his Mistress pored over the book’s pages, Oraion felt a feathery flutter ripple through his sinuses, making his nose scrunch slightly. He said nothing, of course, but kept an eye on Noelle’s reaction. She hadn’t noticed yet, so he ran a finger beneath his septum and drew in a quick, sharp sniffle. Noelle’s leg against his own went tense for a second—she was definitely paying attention now. Oraion tried not to let his satisfaction show on his countenance.

“Um, m-maybe this section on conjuration? I would really, uh, like to know more about how you’re able to conjure things, you know, so easily.”

“Ah, you mean like this?” With a grin he held up his left hand and snapped his fingers, summoning his handkerchief. After all, he was going to need it shortly.

“Y-yes, like that.” Oraion noticed that Noelle’s gaze flicked from the cloth in his hand to his face, and back. He had a feeling he knew exactly what she was looking for in his face. As that feathery feeling intensified, he was certain his nose would be flushing pink soon, if it hadn’t started already.

“Well, the truth is -snf- that I don’t actually, ah, c-conjure anything. -sniff- I merely summoned it. I—” It was growing difficult to keep his breathing steady, and his eyes were beginning to water as his eyelids fluttered. Still, he could quite clearly see the pretty blush forming beneath Noelle’s freckles on her cheeks, along with the blossoming arousal he sensed within her. She squirmed in her seat.

“O-Oraion…”

“Oh dear, h-how terribly inconvenient. -sndf- These old b-books: they muh-must be du- heh- dusty…”

Below the table, he ran his right hand up her leg, squeezing her thigh while at the same time he pressed the handkerchief to his nose.

“ih-hiih- … hiihh! hiiHH’ISSHIUU!”

Through his hand on her leg he could feel the little jolt of pleasure and excitement she felt. He didn’t often get the chance to tease her in public like this. It made her titillation all the sweeter, the tinge of embarrassment she felt. She might not openly admit it, might even outright deny it or grow annoyed with him, but she could not hide from him that it got her even hotter.

“Oraion! S-stop that!”

“Y-you know I can’t heh-help it, Mistress. It’s the- the- eh-heh-heh! mmnh- the dust- HEHHSHIU!”

Noelle looked around nervously.

“B-but, you’re being loud! We’re in a library!”

He leaned in and nuzzled her earlobe, even as he felt another buzzing prickle building.

“Afraid we might gehehht in t-trouble? -snnff- hehh-hehhehh!”

“Y-yes!”

Oh, but she tasted so sweet like this. Gods, he would fuck her right here on the table if she wanted, library rules and propriety be damned. She would never go for that, of course, but that didn’t stop him from imagining it. Just how wound up could he get her, he wondered? He attempted the herculean task of holding back the itch that burned in his sinuses.

“B-but Mistress, you know heh-HEH! nngh- h-how teh-terribly ah-haahhllergic I am to du-dust. I ca-can’t hehhehhelp how sne- sne- sneezy it meh-makes me…”

He kept his nose touching her ear as his nares flared, letting her feel every twitch. As he did so, he slid his hand further up her thigh, pressing his fingers between her legs. He couldn’t last much longer, and if he had anything to say about it, neither would she.

“Th-the m-more I heh-heh! hold bahaahck, the w-worse it g-gets!” He gave a particularly wet sniffle right next to her ear. “Oh no- I-I’m guh- gonna- ehh-heh! M-Mistress, I n-need to sneeze!”

Certain he was about to incur the wrath of Ms Ogtrop, Oraion could not stop his chest from heaving as his nose crinkled.

“hiihhhIIHHhhh!”

With a little sound of desperation Noelle leapt up and grabbed his head, shoving his face directly into her chest and holding him there by hugging him with both arms. The fabric of her blouse pressed against his face, with his nose squeezed directly between her soft breasts. His hands found her hips, and he grabbed hold as the tickle overtook him.

“hhhchhfff! hh-isshhh! nnn… hhih- hii-hhssshhiuh! aeshhiu! … eh! … heh! … hehh-CHSSHT! CHSSHT! HISSHHHTT!”

What would have normally been a powerful and vocal fit was instead muffled and subdued as Noelle wrestled it into submission with the luscious mounds of her chest. Once Oraion’s sneezing subsided, she relented and loosened her death grip on his head, allowing him to at last come up for air. He looked up at her standing over him as he sat back, sniffling wetly. Her entire face was flushed a lovely bright scarlet—a color he was perhaps a bit partial to. His gaze dropped back to her blouse, where he found he’d made a rather wet spot between her breasts. He summoned an apologetic look as his gaze rose back to meet hers.

“I’m sorry, Mistress, but I… I couldn’t help it.”

To be fair, the books truly were dusty. It would have gotten to him at some point anyhow, so why not help it along and get it over with? Still, Oraion supposed he had earned the scolding he was no doubt about to receive.

It took him rather by surprise, then, when Noelle instead grabbed his chin and forced her tongue into his mouth. He was quick to adapt, of course, sucking on her tongue and chasing it with his own when she pulled it back. His fingers dug into her hips, pulling her towards him until she was straddling his lap. She draped her arms over his shoulders and around his neck as she continued to kiss him hungrily, sucking on and biting his lips and tongue. The lust that burned within her intoxicated him and stoked his Hunger.

He supported her back with one hand while the other loosened the catch of her leather leggings and slipped inside. She was warm and wet and waiting for his touch, and she moaned into his mouth as he pushed two fingers inside her. The feel of her became his entirety: the way she enfolded his fingers, the slick sweetness of her tongue in his mouth, the building pleasure that flowed into him more and more.

Noelle brushed the tip of his nose with her own, sending a ticklish wave through his sinuses.

“C-careful -snf- it’s still pretty sensitive…”

“Oh dear,” she murmured as she nuzzled him again, “how terribly inconvenient.”

Even as his breath caught she kissed him. The buzzing prickle spread, making it hard to concentrate, but his fingers did not stop their rhythmic stroking.

“M-Mistress, I… I n-need to- heh-HEH!”

It wouldn’t take much to send either of them over the edge. Oraion could hardly keep his eyes open, and he felt more than saw Noelle’s fingertip gently tease his irritated nares.

“W-wait- Y-you’re guh-gonna m-make me- ih-hihh-HIHH!”

Her hand still behind his neck twined into his hair and shoved his face down into her cleavage.

“hiihh-CHHWFF!”

Once more his sneeze was muffled by the supple flesh of her breasts, and in that moment her pleasure poured into him like a river breaking through a dam. It washed over him in waves, and he let himself drown in it as her hips bucked over his lap. Her pleasure became his own, no telling where one ended and the other began. Each held onto the other for dear life, Noelle clutching Oraion to her chest as he hugged her to himself with his arm around her back.

As they both came down from their shared euphoria, Oraion realized he was biting Noelle’s breast through her shirt. He did not remember making the conscious decision to do so, but she didn't seem to mind. He let go and looked up at her. She was taking her hand out of her mouth—she had bitten the side of a forefinger to keep herself quiet in the stillness of the Librarium.

He kept his eyes on her face as he slowly pulled out of her. The sweet expression she made and the little sigh that escaped her were the perfect dessert to his delicious meal. She opened her soft brown eyes, her cheeks still flushed and rosy, and she leaned in to kiss him once more. He nipped at her lower lip with a sly grin.

“Still afraid we're going to get in trouble?”

“Yes, but now I care less.”

Her lips touched his even as she giggled, a sound that twisted her ever deeper into his heart. Falling for her was a terrible idea, he knew that, but moments like this, the happiness she gave him, made him powerless to resist her gravity. No one made him feel this way, not since his first love, so long past that it may as well have been in another world entirely.

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching broke them from the hold of the afterglow, and Noelle hurried back into her own seat as she adjusted her clothing. She flipped open the pages of the book and leaned over them like she’d been studying them all along, though her face was still quite red. Oraion found his handkerchief had fallen on the floor at some point, and he quickly scooped it up and wiped off his fingers.

The hulking form of the Head Librarian strode into view, carrying a library cart in her hands. Oraion imagined her leaning over to push it normally, and he got a pretty good idea of why she preferred to carry it. She placed the cart down and filed away a few volumes on a nearby shelf. Oraion heard Noelle breathe a quiet sigh of relief.

"Everything all right over here? I thought I heard some sort of commotion, and you’re looking rather flushed, Miss."

“U-um.” Noelle’s voice came out in a terrified squeak, her eyes wide behind her glasses.

Thinking quickly, Oraion lifted his handkerchief to his nose as though he were wiping it, but instead he gave his nostrils a quick tease.

“S-sorry, it’s my fault, I- I- hih- ih-hihh! HIIHTCHHiuh!” He managed to muffle the sneeze by pressing the cloth firmly over his nose, which he hoped was a reasonable facsimile of how it had sounded into Noelle’s shirt. “Nguh -snnff- Sorry, my a-allergies are acting up, and- heh! heh-CHHFF! -snf- I’m afraid I’ve rather embarrassed her with the noise. -sdnf- This is a library, after all.”

The orcish librarian narrowed her eyes. “Hmph. Just keep it down, and do not disturb the other patrons, please.”

“I-I’ll do my best, ma’am… hhihghshh!”

Appearing satisfied, Ogtrop picked up her cart and moved on. Once the sound of her footsteps had faded, Oraion couldn’t help but laugh, smothering the sound behind a hand. Noelle playfully smacked his arm.

“I don’t see what’s so funny! We could have gotten into so much trouble!”

Though her words chastised him, a thread of laughter wove through her voice as well.

“You’re the one who jumped me!”

“Oh, and you didn’t stir up all that dust on purpose?”

“You know it would have happened sooner or later! Now, do you want to keep bickering and draw Ms Ogtrop’s attention again, or do you actually want to study these arcane tomes?”

“Fine, but this is not over!” She went back to the table of contents and found the page she had initially wanted to review. “Now, I believe we were going to talk about the use of conjuration before we were, ahem, interrupted. Weren’t you saying that you don’t actually use conjuration?”

Oraion grinned and placed his arm across the back of Noelle’s chair as they both leaned over the text. “Yes, that’s right. You see, conjuration is the art of creating something from nothing. Were that true, then the handkerchief wouldn’t exist before it appeared in my hand. I would literally be creating it from magic. What I do is a form of summoning…”

While Oraion continued his explanation, Ms Gwendolyn Ogtrop, Head Librarian of the Tigate Librarium, continued her work of filing away the book returns in Section D. She heaved a sigh and tried not to let her envy weigh too heavily on her mind. Men of that caliber were rare enough, but the fact that this one had adorable sneezes too? That human girl didn’t know what a treasure she had. Although, with how red her face was, perhaps she did…

Ogtrop tried to push it from her mind as she tucked another book away. Someday the perfect man for her would walk through that Librarium door. She would whisk him off his feet and into a whirlwind romance, instead of just another link in a lengthy chain of one night stands. Someday happily ever after would happen for her, too.

At least, she could hope.

[writingforfishes]

Musings-Not That Hiccup

I wonder if fans of that Viking kid get just as annoyed with they search his name and get results about cures, causes, spicey food videos, and possibly kink content as I do when I search for kink content and get him.

Additionally, there is now a video game character with the name Hiccups.

Furthermore, the newer generation slang term for "outfit" is "fit." So, when the phrase "Hiccups' fit" is written it's rarely what I think it is.

[hachiibun]

Request Sketches from some previous streams! I take requests from Patreon supporters!

Requests:

My florist OC Wei for @rachwavs

@sailormoon-snz's OC Zion

Vic's OC Zip & @dr-ground-zero's OC Shu both for Vic @goodlucksnez

@rachwavs's OCs Aoto and Adrius

If you like my drawings, and are willing and able to do so, please consider commissioning me, pledging to my Patreon, or donating through ko-fi ☕! You're not obliged to, but every bit helps to keep me living decently and I really do appreciate it!

❗ PLEASE NO REBLOGGING TO NON-KINK BLOGS ❗

[cattewife]

day in the park

(a h/ualian modern au snz fic, part 2)

rating: E word count: 6400 fandom: m/xtx t/gcf contains: (slightly more setup than the first one but basically still) PWP sneezing while fucking some mess (not graphic but definitely there) switch h/ualian (top h/ua c/heng, bottom x/ie l/ian in this) allergic!h/ua c/heng, fet!x/ie l/ian just so much talking about feelings though (why???)

Oh? It can't be that X/ie L/ian really, for real, still... likes this? Even with H/ua C/heng on top? Even H/ua C/heng isn't this lucky. He hopes that he is, though, because he really. Really can't stop. Or, a day out leads to more allergy problems than anticipated.

>> read it on archiveofourown HERE <<

>> (post for part 1 HERE) <<

~PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG TO NON SNZ/KINK BLOGS~