waterfallofspace

[waterfallofspace]

ooooo, prompts you say??~

knowing how much I love when someone requests one of my lil guys so I can write them in a fun situation, I'm gonna toss you a f/ukuzawa, aaaaaaand add to it a side of cat allergies +M/ori involvement

do with that as you will, you can choose if the M/ori involvement is minimal, antagonist, helpful, anything you want, just gives you a lil thing to work with~ <3 excited to see what you may cook up if you so choose to!!~

hello !!! you gave me this and i ran with it so hard. thank u for the ask and i def had a lot of fun with this,...... i hope u enjoy it too !!

Nothing Beyond my Grasp

fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs characters: Fukuzawa Yukichi, Mori Ougai cw: sneezing kink !! mess, vouyerism, implied character with kink notes: hi it is 3 am i am so tired goodnight. you guys are lucky imm too tired to be embarrased rn because this is the horniest thing ive written so far !!! its a little kinky. i really like to explore their dynamic in a kind of unconventional way. i dont know if alot of people know about fukuzawas ex-assassin stuff because it was never really directly stated in anything besideds the novel but thats !! why !! hes basically silent throughout this whole thing. in the novel it says he walks compltelty silently most of the time so i think thats such an unconcious habit and it also splays out through most of his life. enjoy. iam going to pass out now gutten night !!!!

Very quickly, Fukuzawa had turned into one of Mori’s favorite people to study. In his unique line of work, he met plenty of unusual people, but none quite like him. Fukuzawa was mysterious- nearly silent, prone to snarling when provoked, and reminded him altogether of a caged wild dog. Really, ‘Silver Wolf’ was the perfect name for him. 

Earlier in the evening, Elise had dragged in a bedraggled-looking stray, and entirely susceptible to her, he allowed her to keep it until she got bored with it. Not that they had much choice, anyway- it had taken to whipping its tail about in the corner and hissing as soon as she released it. Mori found himself glancing at the time more often after that. This was a new chance to study Fukuzawa. How would he react? Would he open his heart to another stray? He already had one. 

Ever habitual, punctual as a means of politeness, Fukuzawa swings the door to his humble office open as soon as the clock strikes 9 p.m. He looked weary, the combination of preparing to open his agency and body guard work clearly taking its toll. Mori liked to see it- it lowered his guard. 

As Fukuzawa moved to his usual spot he passed the spot where the cat had chosen to reside, which took his closeness as a threat and started to hiss and swat. Mori honed in on Fukuzawa’s face, watching the softness in his eyes. He kneels down, palms open, posture soft. 

Mori snorts as Fukuzawa slips a treat from his sleeve, holding it out in offering. He doesn’t expose his hands very often, so Mori studies them closely. Calloused from years of sword fighting, etched with fading scars and an array of scratches. Clearly, this is a hobby of his. 

He watches as one hand slowly stretches the treat forwards as the other one seriously knucks the underside of his nose, pulling at a particularly long scar. Mori wants to know what its from, but he knows better than to ask. He would never receive an answer. Fukuzawa appears to be making some progress, as the cat starts slinking along nervously, gaining confidence, until Fukuawa twitches into himself. It hisses and jumps back, pressing into the wall as he does it again. The movement leaves Mori quirking an tebow. Fukuzawa moves in a way that is meticulous and calculated, and something so unintentional is novel. Is exhaustion getting to him that badly? The thought sends a shiver down his spine. 

Regardless of whatever is weighing him down, Fukuzawa appears to be undeterred. He fully sits down, placing the treat on his lap, and fixes Mori with his usual cold stare. “Where did she come from?” he asks, sounding almost.. Concerned? It's hard to tell with him, and Mori’s not quite familiar enough to parse every micro-intonation, yet. He gives a lazy shrug. “Elise brought it in. Feel free to take it, I dont like dirty things.” He lets the implications hang in the air, relishing the way Fukuzawa’s brow furrows. Always so easy to push. He might not be the only source, he realizes, because he soon scrunches up the bridge of his nose too, and shutters into a raised hand, twice in succession, before sniffing and giving his head a small shake.

Suddenly, Mori realizes what happened the first time. He decides to stay silent, and 

feigns interest in his work while watching Fukuzawa from the corner of his eye. He observes him as he tends to his nose repeatedly, staring off with a hazy kind of expression. He also bears witness to the stray bringing itself to Fukuzawa again, settling in his lap, and makes sure to note down the look of joy. 

He chuckles at the absurdity of the scene in front of him. “Looks like you’ve got quite a way with strays.” he muses. Fukuzawa starts, apparently haven forgotten about him altogether. How irresponsible. “Are you going to manage to keep me safe like that?” He teases, tiring of this silent treatment. Fukuzawa scrubs at his nose again, answering with a curt “I’ll manage.” that’s a bit fuzzy around the edges. He doesn’t bother to bring up what they both know- Mori doesn’t need his protection. 

He finds himself developing a particular interest in Fukuzawa’s nose, which has started to crease, and develop irritated redness around the rims. The abuse is certainly doing him no favors- he watches it be crushed against a palm when it starts to twitch. Fukuzawa even, almost meditative, breathing has started to stutter, just barely visible underneath all of his layers, but Mori knows better than to think he’ll get a show that easily. He’s going to have to work for it. 

“Got a tickle?” Hw pried, not like he needed to confirm it. His response comes in a rough head-shake, and he rests his head in his hand, sighing. “Use your words, Fukuawa.” He chides. The man in question curls his lip, but obeys anyways, a breathy “No.” that catches in his throat. He presses another harsh knuckle to the side of his nose, eyelashes fluttering, and flinches into his hand again. A breath escapes this time, stuffy and unsatisfied, and Mori has to swallow down his delight. Fukuzawa is so easy to manipulate- he can’t help but try his luck. 

“Really? You look awfully itchy, though. What's gotten into you?” Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t get a response, though the more accurate notion is that he can’t, because Fukuzawa jolts into his shoulder again. 

“hH'EHSCHHh-!” it’s greater than any other sneeze Mori has heard out of him, desperate to break free. Fukuzawa’s whole face sparks with irritation, and he pinches the next one between his thumb and forefinger. It squelches with the pressure. 

With another shuddering exhale, he glares at Mori. “Nothings wrong.” he declared, but with congestion thick in his throat, so it came out all wrong. Mori scoffs. “Use a tissue, atleast.” He doesn’t get a response, unless a ticklish, smothered cough counts. 

Mori actually focuses on his work for a couple of minutes, and when he turns his attention back to Fukuzawa, he can’t contain his shock. His condition has considerably worsened. He’s mid sneezing fit, crushing release after release between pinched fingers, and a tear rolls down his cheek. He looks so utterly pathetic, heat starts to pool in Mori’s gut. Fukuzawa manages to quell the fit without a single noise leaking through, a rather impressive feat. He tends to his nose again, now a dark pink. When he angles his face just right, Mori can see wetness threatening to spill over. 

All this abuse seems to do him more harm than good, because not even a minute after his previous attack is he hitching again, canine teeth catching the light, and choking down another volley. He’s not as lucky this time- sound starts to leak out between his fingertips, a preview of what is surely soon to come. Husky gasps and stuttery exhales announce the start and end of each sneeze, only agitating Fukuzawa more. He almost seems to growl as he pants for breath, scrubbing at his nose once again, like it’s offered him any relief thus far. Mori watches the skin crinkle and stretch. He frowns down at Fukuzawa, itchy and irritated and so extremely allergic. What a fool. 

“You really shouldn’t stew in an allergen. Really, Fukuzawa, I thought you were smarter than that.” He bites his cheek, watching how the word alone is enough to make his breath catch again. Oh Fukuzawa, the master of self-control. He’s waging a war against his own nose, fighting tooth and nail to maintain his usual mask of indifference. It makes every quiver so much more noticable. 

When he’s promptly ignored, Mori makes an effort to remove the mangy cat himself, but Fukuzawa quickly shifts back. The sudden movement breaks his concentration on wrestling control over himself, because he tears forward with a “eH'RSCHHh-oo!” What an incredible sound. So desperate and unrestrained. Mori wants to hear it again, wants to watch Fukuzawa hopelessly to himself, wants to pick apart every piece of it. And he’s always been one to make sure he gets what he wants. 

Fukuzawa straightens his spine, face flush with irritation and perhaps a bit of embarrassment. He stares at Mori with a challenge in his expression, like he’s daring Mori to come after him. Mori’s not afraid of him, however, especially not in that state. He just needs to make him crack. 

“I can’t believe you’re so willing to put up with such a tickle for a stray like that. Look at all of the fur, Fukuzawa. It’s all across your robes.” he’s smart enough to know what Mori’s doing, and make sure he knows it, but that means nothing. His breath still stutters. “It’s on your hands, too. You’ve been rubbing it all over your nose.” Mori clicks his tongue, scolding. “How careless.”’hiH-!” Fukuzawa’s eyes flutter closed, hands rising towards his face. The anticipation is almost too much. 

“That must tickle, Fukuzawa. You look awfully itchy, like there’s fur in your nose.” That sends him over the edge. Mori’s stomach twists with anxiety. Fukuzawa takes in a ragged gasp, head tilted back towards the light, and gives Mori a glorious show. 

“eH'RSCHHh-iewh! ‘RSZHHIh-! hiA'ESZHHUh-! hH’RSZHHh-oo!!” With each wretched sneeze, Fukuzawa is thrown further forward, bringing in more dander with every inhale. He’s hopeless to it, hands hovering uselessly, giving Mori a full view of the mess he’s made. 

“e'ETSZHHh-! ‘ESCHHUh-! heH'RSZH-! ‘rRSZHHh-oo! hiH-! hiA'ETSCHh-!” They’re pitchy and vocal, unconstrainable. One particularly sonorus “ ‘RSCHHEUHh-!” sends the cat scampering off, and Mori almost purrs when its bushy tail runs directly under Fukuzawa’s nostrils. Oh, he's helpless. 

“ hI'RSZHHh-! ‘ESCHHh-oo! hH'RSZHHEUHh-! ‘RSZHHih- hH'ESCHHh-oo! ‘DSCHHhih-!” He’s entirely doubled over now, and some small, still human part of Mori worries he might smother himself. He makes no motion to help. He never wants this to  end, each release so pressure inducing. It’s simply too much. 

All good things must come to an end, though, and Fukuzawa manages to wrangle himself under control. Raw, desperate sneezes are replaced by clipped stifles that still rock him forwards, and almost a full minute passes before he emerges, deeming himself out of the woods. Lord, he is wrecked. If Mori were a weaker man, his arousal would’ve been much more obvious. He manages to keep himself under control. 

Fukuzawa’s face is flushed and swollen, his eyes red rimmed and eyelashes heavy with fat tears. Every panting breath he takes in has the slightest wheeze, so Mori takes pity on him and deicides to play his role as doctor. He makes short work of acquiring an anti-histimine, holding it out like a dog treat. 

Fukuzawa doesn’t meet his eyes as he takes it, but hes polite enough to nod his thanks. He swallows it dry, throat clicking, and there’s silence once again until it breaks it with a snarling “‘RSZHHh-oo!” that escapes his clutches. 

“Silver Wolf” was most certainly a fitting name. 

[waterfallofspace]

oh my god poni aghghghgh!!!! this is. everything. they are SO CUUUTTEE!!!! and every time you call me internet sis i hope you know i tear up a little like agh <3 love you <333

and OF COURSE I LIKE IT- god i love it. his adorable like??? scrunched up face????? hhhhhhhhhhh~ (also i'm so sorry it was difficult aghh~ but it turned out beautifully~)

Little gift comic for my kind little internet sis @waterfallofspace . Hope you like it 🙈

[waterfallofspace]

and what if I said, out of literally nowhere, that I can't stop thinking about r/usty q/uill g/aming, and specifically w/ilde. what if i said the whump he went through was literally insane and I want to do it again. what if i said smug man knocked down a peg by a relentless allergy fit fits him so well.

what if i said all that. what then.

[waterfallofspace]

I re-listened to some tma and thought of you (sadly not a tim episode though)

this is so sweet actually oh my god- sadly not a tim episode is so based also but!!! aghh!!!! you are one of the main people I think of when i listen to tma and it makes me insanely happy to know people think of me when they listen to it too <3333

(i have you to thank for this intense hyperfixation/special interest so, I hope I do that enough, thank you for it, I love this show so much it has changed me <33)

[waterfallofspace]

okay hi so i haven't done one of these in a long time but this is so sweet and AGHKSDJKSFJK and has brought this out of me so welcome to Live Read-Along And Comments With Waterfall

(first things first tho OMGGGGG WREN AHGHGH- this is so unbelievably sweet of you oh my god- screaming crying shaking passing out oh my GODDDD- you say I'm sweet but!!!! no!!! it is you!!! oh my goooodddd!!!! thank you for this and i'll say that again later probably maybe likely multiple times but im screeching here oh my GOODDDDD this is so ghajuoskldmgd okay okay im gonna stop flailing and actually read it sdjksfjfs-)

~ well okay so first things first AIZAWA MY HUSBAND AGGHGHGH well mic's husband but mine too i love him GOD- and my love was literally just brought back again by tiktoks i saw of him in the new mha thingy so AHGHAGHGH so feral for this already okay let's go

~ "-And what all of his different sneezes sound like." hello im growling what the f- AHGDJSKDJS this concept already has me biting the bars of my enclosure oh my god im gonna need to chew on a table to calm down adhjsoifklgdm

~ YOUR SPELLINGS. ARE PERFECT. OH MY GOD they are EXACTLY the type that draws me in so well like- i can hEAR THEM oh my god

~ 'shuddering into his elbow' also needs a shout out i shivered oh my god (im gonna keep saying oh my god but listen it's only bc i literally just don't know what else to say that sums up the AHHHHHness as well T-T)

~ GOD I LOVE love so much love the 'hello to you too' trope when someone greets someone else with a snz (i've totally written it before god i LOVE IT)

~ 'sorry i've been doing that all day' pardon me while i faint (and the imagery of the pink nose against the wrist AHHHHHH)

~ ANOTHER TROPE I ADOOOREEE nose kisses to cause a snz AHGAHGGH it's so perfect with them it's literally one of my favourite lil tropes for them is mic doing that to aizawa like.......... hello you are hitting ALL of the points and im lightheaded

~ mic asking what's wrong and aizawa can just snz about it aghAGHGAH

~ MIC FILLING THE SILENCE god i..... i'm insane rn

~ also i already said it but your SPELLINGS WREN. i am feral. they are..... perfect. they are perfect and i can heAR THEM hasdjoklfmgd i love this so much have i said that? i'm gonna keep saying that. i love this so much

~ needy. to describe a snz. i need to catch my bREATH- adhsjuolkg

~ teeth. peeking out. that whole line of description has left me screeching oh my god

~ mic getting lost in how hot that is, yeah me too dude ME TOO

~ GOOODDDDDD it being in his hair.... idk why but that's made me even more insane i didn't think that was possible ahdjosifgkjm

~ THEY ARE CUTIES YOUR HONOUR THEY ARE HUSBANDS AND ADORABLE AND I LOVE THEM

hi okay so welcome to the end of the live read along uhhhhhh- this was so insanely good???? like girl- short or not this was AMAZING and ahguaghaguh it hit so many of the right notes i feel. a little lightheaded. this was INSANE i had to pause reading it a couple of times honestly just to sit in a mental image and silently scream ahudsjoikflgd

you did!!! amazing with this!!! and oh my GOD thank you so much for it auhdsjolkfdmjlka- I've not had a good Aizawa morsel in awhile and god i forgot how feral he makes me........... aHGGHGH ily queen you are everything this is everything and you are SO SWEET FOR THIS???? dude ily oh my god T-T

(also they were SO in character????? like i read the tags [same on period btw ahujodsikgldm] and you said it's been awhile but???? you did so good???? i heard this in my head as them SO clearly and DJUASOIKLFG im just... screeching <3333 your praises <3333 so much <3333 forever <33333 oh my god <33333)

Fall onto me

fandom: My Hero Academia

characters: Shouta Aizawa, Hizashi Yamada

cw: sneeze kink !!! mentions of coughing + brief mess

notes: ummmmmm I'm so nervous to post this !!! but it's for @waterfallofspace who is just the sweetest and always lights up my day + my dash every time we interact !!! Shes always making stuff for others and feeding my middle aged man obsession and I'm so thankful !!!!! I wish this. Was better. But um i tried my best and I hope you enjoy !!!!!

     After over 20 years of knowing each other, living with one another in both the dorms at UA and their apartment, Hizashi can confidently say that he knows his husband like the back of his hand. He knows Shouta’s food preferences, the temperature he likes his showers, and his preferred brand of eye drops 

-And what all of his different sneezes sound like.

So when Shouta walks through the door of their apartment, shuddering into his elbow with a muffled, heavy “hHD’SHHh-yu!”, Hizashi’s mind instantly darts to the Benydral kept in the bathroom cabinet, because Hizashi knows his husband, and knows the sound of his allergies all too well. 

But Shouta tends to get prickly when coddled, and everything Hizashi knows about his husband indicates irritation of more than one kind, so he keeps quiet. Instead, he smiles up at Shouta, who’s still sniffling in the entrance way as he drags himself out of the house and into his slippers, and greets him with a cherry “Bless you! Hello to you, too,” and revels in the well-natured eye roll he gets in acknowledgement. 

“hH’dTSHHh-yu! Damn. Sorry,” Is what his husband actually greets him with as he shuffles into the kitchen, rubbing his pinkened nose against his wrist. “I’ve been doing that all day.” He huffs like an old, burly dog as he sits at the table, and Hizashi can see an irritated wetness in his eyes as he hums down at his vegetables. 

“Not catching something, are ya? I’ve told you that you’ve gotta stop fussing over every student with the sniffles.” At that, Shouta shakes his lead a little too roughly, like he’s trying to shake off the tickle with it. “No, I feel fine. Jus’hiHt-! Just itchy.” He punctuates the sentence with a tickly cough, almost like he has to prove it. Hizashi can't empathize much, always prone to letting everything out as soon as it irritates him, but can sympathize, so he stands and stretches while his back gives a satisfying pop! and gives Shouta a small peck on the bridge of his nose that he knows will do the trick on his way to the stove. 

He hears his success as he lights the burner, first a quick snag in Shouta’s breath, then another, and then the creak of the chair as he shifts his weight suddenly “ hIH’dTSHh-yu! e’TCHhih! eHd’tCHh-iewh! ‘tCHHh-iew!  ” Hizashi listens, feigning an interest in the stove as his husband grumbles. “Bless you! That was cute.” He chirped. “No, it was gross.” Shouta corrects, and he can hear the congestion in his throat now. Poor thing. 

“Do you know what's setting you off? Can’t be pollen, it’s winter, and-” he leans over to press the back of his hand to Shouta’s cheek, mostly for show “- You’re cool as a clam, so it's not a cold.” Shouta opens his mouth to respond, but gets quickly interrupted with a quick gasp that sends him into his elbow once again. 

“hiD'TCHhi’yu! e'tTCHh- eD'SHH-iewh! hiH- hH'ESSHh-oo! ed'TCHHh-oo! ” Hizashi is face-front at the show this time, watching the crease in Shouta’s brow and the twitch of his nose from where it peaks above his sleeve. He dutifully passes along the tissues when his husband stays still for a beat too long, sniffling desperately, and starts to fill the quiet with enthusiasm blessing and talk of a new segment he's planning. He’s barely two sentences in, turned towards the stove again, when he hears Shouta take in a trembling gasp and muffle a tickly sounding “hihH”ndXT-iew!”, restrained and wholly unsatisfying-sounding. 

Hizashi whirls around to face him with his hands on his hips, playing the mother hen well as he scolds/ “Don’t do that, Sho! You’ll hurt yourself!” Then, in a softer tone, “Why don’t you go take a shower and wash whatever this is off.” He gives him a few hearty smacks on the back when he evolves into a fit of tickly, barking coughs that crescendo with a needy “e'hHDTSHh-yu!” that Hizashi thinks is all too cute. It must have cleared something out, because he stops sneezing for long enough to stand with cracking joints of his own (Christ, when did they get so old?) and disappear into the bathroom, pressing a hand to the small of Hizashi’s back as he passes. 

Besides a throat scraping fit that leaves Hizashi wincing in sympathy, responding with his own set of ‘Bless you!’ that probably gets muffled in the walls, everything seems to return to normal. When Shouta returns from the shower, hair wet and in a new set of clothes, nothing besides the occasional sniffle indicates much of anything was wrong, until they’re in the bedroom after dinner. Shouta sits on the bed, hunched over as he grades papers, while Hizashi stands in front of him and prepares for a late-night patrol. 

More specifically, the reprise occurs when Hizashi sprays a bit of cologne on himself, a gift from a fan he got on his patrol last night. It was a small bottle, labeled all in English, with a spiced scent he was fond of. But apparently, his husband wasn't. The moment he sprays it, Shouta gasps and starts to cough, leaving Hizashi laughing as he thumps him on the back for the second time that day. “That bad, huh? I like it.” “NohH - no, it’hHT-!.. It’s not that, ihHt-” He’s not able to finish explaining before he takes another stuttering breath, nostrils flaring and teeth peaking out from where his lips curl back, and buries himself in his sleeve. 

“e'TCHHhi- et’TSHHh-iewh! hiD'TCH!  hH’RSHHh-! ‘tSHHh-iewh! eH’NGKT-hH’NGT- e'SHHhi-yu! ” Hizashi is a bit awestruck, not accustomed to watching such an unprompted loss of control, spurred only when Shouta manages to hiss out “the perfume’hHTSHHh-iew!” before being thrown back into his elbow with another fit as Hizashi takes a wide step back, then a couple more as his husband starts to cough again. 

“hiDt'TSHhi-! hiD'TCH’yu! ‘tSHHhi-yu! hiH- ugh… snf” And, nose apparently satisfied, Shputa flops against the headboard, panting as a stray tear tracks down his face, carving out the slope of his cheekbones. He looks up at Hizashi with teasing and expectant eyes, eyebrows raised, and he can’t help but get lost for a second in how hot that is before remembering himself. 

“Bless you lots, sho! I lost count! Guess we found the culprit, huh?” He remembers, just barely, to keep his distance, plucking the bottle up from the nightstand with a stretch. “hiDt’sHHhi-! Ugh, yeah.” The congestion is back in his voice, leaving it thick and a bit crackly. “How was it on me this morning, though?” Hizashi has to think about that for a minute, leaning back on his heels, then remembers with a sheepish smile. 

“When I got back from patrol, I sprayed it in here, just to try it, y’know? It must’ve gotten in your hair. Oh, you poor thing, Sho!!” He says with drama, trying to make up for his lack of physical contact with words. 

“hiDT’CHh-yu!” Shouta snaps forward again, then sniffs as he straightens out. “Just remember to wash off before you come to bed.” He grumbles as Hizashi starts to back out of the room. He gives a mock salute, calling out a “Yes, Sir!” As he closes the bedroom door. While he toes on his shoes, he hears another muffled sneeze through the wall, and sticks around just long enough to hear a “thank you” for his blessing. 

[waterfallofspace]

does the kink[tm] for anyone else kinda come in like... waves- but like, of what you're interested in??

like i swear, one day I'm like hhhhhhhhh over a someone down sick, all warmth and cuddles, the next day it's someone sick as a dog but pretending they aren't,

then the next week I'm not thinking about it at all, and the week after I want someone so wrecked by an allergy that all they can do is bend over hands-on-knees and snz,

and then the next week it's all about fics, listening to wavs doesn't hit at all I just want to read about my lil guys,

then the week after that it's all about the audio, I need to hear it and at first I want it desperate, and then I want it rapid, then hitchy, etcetc

like???? does anyone else have this because I swear like- I read a post one month that I'm damn near drooling over and the next it does nothing- or I'll see a post and be like 'damn, gotta come back to that one when I'm in that mood because that'll hit so good'

[waterfallofspace]

alice has a cold. gwen is just trying to get her work done.

snz, char with kink, cold, sickfic, gwen being a freak (internally)

@lavanderbouquete for u :>

+ + +

“h-hiH-!” Gwen stiffens, listening. “hH’TCHSsh!—ew…” Alice sneezes into her sleeve — again.

She’s been at it all evening; Gwen could’ve guessed Alice was sick from the minute she was spared a quip on her way in.

Alice coughs lightly, gaze focused on the glowing screen, forever stuck in light mode with no way to escape its painful blue light. She reads, files another case, and turns her head away, breath shuddering before she brings up her arm and she muffles another sneeze — “hHd’CHSHhT!” — into the crook of it. She pauses for a moment, sniffling with her head still buried in her sleeve, before lowering it and reaching for another tissue to blow her nose again.

Shit, she’s staring again.

Gwen blinks herself out of her stupor, dragging her eyes away from her sick colleague. It’s not her fault that Alice is…distracting, but she can hear her parents reminding her that it’s her fault for letting herself be distracted at all.

Of course, they don’t know the nature of this distraction.

Alice rises from her seat — having nearly fallen out of it trying to untangle her oddly positioned legs. “Hey.”

Gwen doesn’t quite hear it.

“Hey, Gwen,” Alice speaks up, notes of congestion slipping into her voice as Gwen turns, “gonna make a cuppa. D’you want one?”

She dares to look up at Alice’s lightly flushed cheeks, reddish-tinged nose, and just slightly weary eyes. “I’ll…make myself one,” she manages, voice just above a mumble.

She hates Alice for her smug little grin and cool hazel eyes. “Oh, come on, it’s not like I’d sneeze on it — I’ve got some decency.”

She also hates her bluntness. A lot. Gwen rises with a huff and a burning gut. “I’ll make my own; thank you,” she stresses her words.

“Alright, Gwendolyn, be my…” her brow creases and her eyelashes flutter. She spins around, ducking into the crook of her arm. “hHd’JSSHh! h’hH-! hHT’CHSHh! sndf! Gh…” she shakes her head as she turns back, “Be my guest.”

Gwen swallows, gripping the edge of her desk with white knuckles. She wants her carnally. She wants Alice against her collarbone, hot breath and desperate, sickly sneezes hitting her bare skin. She wants to press her lips to her own now — to smear her neat lipstick and leave Alice’s lips stained. To make Alice entirely her own.

Alice brushes back stray hairs. “Are you coming, then?” Her voice is showing some wear — Gwen wonders if it’ll hold up tomorrow.

“Oh, er—“ she stammers. She has to stop; she’s at work, for god’s sake.

Alice starts off toward the breakroom, question unanswered. Gwen follows, massaging her brow. Christ…

[waterfallofspace]

hiiii !! what's a character you're into right now for 0 reason .......

oh gosh- hiiiii!!~ hehe~ always lovely to see you around here, but you have come with a hell of a question- pffft~

hoooooonestly I think I'm most into J/on and T/im from T/MA at the moment, but I'll always love G/ojo (my husband <3) A/izawa (daddy issues personified <3) and ofc both of S/oukoku (the stupid idiot haters who are also lovers <3)

aghghhh there's a lot of lil guys that own me, admittedly at the current moment it's mostly podcast men, but my anime lil guys (and.... non-anime shows, my first true love, lil guys from them too <3) always own me~ I variate so randomly, based on what I've most recently screamed about/hyperfixated on~

but!!! given that there's no reason for asking this whatsoever, I figure this lil assortment hopefully is absolutely no help at all? since there's nothing to help with?~ <3

anyways i'm not exactly sure what to put here ADJSDJSKLK but!!! gonna toss out the answer and voila~

[waterfallofspace]

Could I maybe request a sick fuku/zawa drabble? Thank you so much for always doing these for everyone <33

awhh, ofc!! I love filling requests when I can, it makes me feel so good to be able to bring to life something someone wants to see!~ Hopefully this lil drabble is enjoyable, sorry it took a bit!~ <33

1kish words, feat: F/ukuzawa, A/tsushi, D/azai, and briefly T/anizaki & K/enji~ --------------------

“You look awful-” 

The words slip from Atsushi’s mouth before he can stop them, the world coming to a standstill as Fukuzawa gives him that familiar deadpan expression. 

“N-not how I meant it to come out….” Atsushi squeaks, shrinking into himself and giving a sheepish smile. “I just meant- you don’t… seem well? Are you sure you should be here today..?” 

“I appreciate the concern,” Fukuzawa states, his voice collected and level, even despite the rasp along the edges of it, “but I am perfectly capable of deciding to come into work at my agency. If I was not in a fit state, rest assured, I would still be at home.” 

Atsushi just nods, slinking back to his desk. Alright, it wasn’t exactly a reprimand, but maybe it’s not his place to question the president. No- no not maybe, it definitely isn’t his place. 

“RRZSHH’uh!” 

The sneeze makes Atusushi jump, Kenji and Tanizaki giggling a bit from their desks behind him. 

“Sorry,” Fukuzawa offers, giving an unreadable glance over to Kenji and Tanizaki (who immediately stop giggling). “I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“O-oh it’s, it’s totally okay sir, s-sorry for getting startled!” 

There’s a very failed attempt at a contained snort from behind him, and Atsushi debates jumping out the window. He’s a weretiger, his body will heal faster than his pride… 

“No need for that,” Fukuzawa cuts in, pausing Atsushi’s escape plans for the moment, “now, unless there’s anything else you need,” he glares over behind Atsushi, and the muffled giggles stop, “get back to work.” 

“Yes s-”

“RRSHH– RZSHHHH’iuh!” 

“Bless you!” 

Fukuzawa winces, wrist still pressed to his face. Atsushi quickly takes action, grabbing the tissues from the desk and holding them out. Fukuzawa accepts thankfully, and Atsushi turns away to give him a bit of privacy to clean up. 

“That didn’t sound good,” comes a voice from the hall, Atsushi and Fukuzawa turning in unison to see Dazai leaning against a wall. He’s wearing a familiar expression of playful disinterest, but Atsushi doesn’t miss how his eyes scan over the President, clearly evaluating his state. 

“I’m-” Fukuzawa starts, but breaks off into a harsh cough that leaves his lungs rattling slightly as he attempts to maintain composure. While being, Atsushi guesses, about ten seconds from hitting the floor. 

“You know,” Dazai calls again, sliding into the room in something akin to a cat stalking its prey. “A wise man once told me,” 

Atsushi pauses, eyes snapping between the two men engaged in some sort of… standoff? He waits for the words of wisdom, matching breaths sucked in behind him as the whole office seems to be caught in a standstill. 

Fukuzawa meets Dazai’s eye, pulling himself to his full height, coughing subsided for now. He gives a gesture to continue, a single eyebrow raising slowly.

“He said ‘Dazai, you are the best employee we have-”

“I don’t believe that-” 

Dazai holds up a hand, giving a dramatic tilt of his head, “Please, let me tell it as I remember, it was… the most heartfelt thing I’ve ever been told.” A single tear rolls down his face, and Atsushi has to manually close his jaw, risking a peek to find Kenji beaming behind him, eyes full of wonder locked on Dazai. 

Fukuzawa groans slightly, but nods again, rolling his eyes almost imperceptively. He muffles another harsh “RZSHHMPFH– RRSHhh’uh!-” into his sleeve, grimacing slightly as he reaches with his free arm for another handful of tissues. 

“Thank you, thank you. Now, as I was saying,” Dazai continues, stepping forward with an exaggerated wave of his hand, “A great man once told me, ‘Dazai, you are the best worker I’ve ever seen, and because of that, I must impart on you this advice, my most trusted and beloved employee’-”

Everyone is on the edge of their seats, except, Atsushi notes, Fukuzawa, who looks as if he’s well aware where this is going, and is resigned to the dramatics of Dazai being how they have to get there. He simply pulls the tissues to his nose, attempting to (poorly) stifle the next “RZSH-NGT’uh!”. Some form of… politeness, Atsushi guesses, despite Dazai’s… theatrics, Fukuzawa’s still trying to allow him room to finish without further interruption. 

“The advice of which was,” Dazai pauses again, this time Atsushi rolls his eyes with a deep sigh. ‘Oh my god,’ he finds himself thinking so loud it’s almost audible, ‘get to the point already…’ 

“‘You’re of no use to anyone else if you can’t even take care of yourself,’” Dazai finally finishes, voice steadily quiet. He turns at that, facing Fukuzawa, and gives a look that’s so raw and unmasked that Atsushi looks away on instinct, cheeks burning as if he’d just witnessed something intimate he shouldn’t have. In a sense, he supposes, he did. 

“And!” Dazai adds, swivelling back around to face the room with his normal grin, “We have unlimited sick days!” 

“That’s not tr-” Fukuzawa starts, voice cutting off into a gasp as he turns back to his, now utterly ruined, handful of tissues for another throat-scraping, “RRZSHHh’uh!” 

“He didn’t deny it!” Dazai calls out in a sing-song voice, casting a wink towards Atsushi, who gives a terrified smile, and suddenly finds the floor incredibly interesting. 

He only breaks that stance when Fukuzawa starts coughing again, Atsushi moving into range to whisper, “Hey, he’s not wrong, you know. I- I know it’s not my place but- if you don’t take care of yourself, th-then…” 

“No,” Fukuzawa starts, then softens his tone and gives Atsushi a measured, yet gentle, look. “I know. You’re both right. I shouldn’t have… I should have listened to you earlier, I’m. I am sorry.” 

“Hey,” Atsushi starts, smiling, “no worries about that! All I care about is you getting better.” “rRZSSHH’uh! RRT’SZHH–oo! guhh…” 

“Now uh- h-how about I help walk you out..?”  Fukuzawa gives a tight nod, leaning a bit of his weight against the arm Atsushi holds out.

“And-” Atsushi continues, “I’ll tell Kunikida to handle the office until you get back, between him and Ranpo, this place will run just fine without you!”

There’s a brief pause, panic beginning to overflow as Atsushi’s eyes widen, realizing what he just said. “W-wait, sorry that’s- that’s not what I meant, we absolutely need you here, I wasn’t trying to-”

“Atsushi.”

“Y-yes sir…?”

Fukuzawa turns to him, a soft smile crossing his stern features. “Thank you.”

[waterfallofspace]

You've told me about a certain... thing you enjoy, and I'm happy to indulge you!~

(all one take - improvised scenario)

feat: sneezing, sniffling, one nose blow (6:28), talking, playfully teasing, I induce for you, you induce me, general acceptance of the kink and kindness towards it, and continuous consent

[waterfallofspace]

someone hesitantly agreeing to use something that makes them sneeze during sex at their partners request. to their surprise, after climaxing alongside a sneeze, they mumble, “that felt kinda good…”

[waterfallofspace]

You have reduced me to symbols. Again.

i am NOT confident i am doing this right but the character ask bingo reblog thingy,

I present you: M/ike C/rew (as we've scremed about many lil guys, but not this one in depth, so I'm interested to see, if you'd like to!~)

HIIIII OFC I'LL DO THE GUY !!

M/ike Cr/ew:

OKOK. I can't decide if he gets big buildups or if his snzes come without warning !! I think both fit him for different reasons and it's just so fhdkdjdjdj- I think more than allergic he's Sensitive to strong scents, so while he's not allergic to for example grass it will make him snz if it's freshly cut and it smells strongly. I also think his avatar powers Do Something everytime he snzs but idk What exactly!

[waterfallofspace]

Could I get fuku/zawa for the bingo ? Sorry for double requesting him omg

of course!~ and no need to be sorry at all, I'm always happy to see you here!~ <3 and around in general~ (i'll be getting to the lil drabble prompts I have a bit later, but bingo I can do while otherwise occupied so I'll fill this one now~)

Bingo under the cut~ +little rambles

I think he's a fairly "rRRZSHh'uuh!" type of person, unless he has to he doesn't really bother stifling, knows it isn't good for him and most of the time doesn't see the point. Might as well let it out, politely turn away/cover, apologize, and return to the task at hand. Though I do think, especially if it's allergies/a fit, he tends to get a bit of longer buildups, and can loose it pretty routinely if he's interrupted. I also think he's the type to "Pardon me, I have to sneeze..." a fair little bit before he actually does, sitting in a bit of limbo with his arm covering his face as he waits for it to fully build~

I think he has allergies, hayfever/general grass/pollen ones, but you wouldn't know that unless he told you or you hang around him often. It's not like he's hiding them per se, he just has a regimen of medication that helps control the worst of it, and he will wear a mask/avoid outside on the bad pollen days. (Only people like Fukuchi, Mori, Kunikida, and maybe Dazai have really seen him break down into bad fits/allergies, most of the others just have some general knowledge that he tends to get a bit allergic sometimes)

I also think he doesn't get sick that often, he knows how to take care of himself, and considers it his duty as the leader to maintain health. Still, when he does get sick, he won't hide it too much, he doesn't want to place anyone in unnecessary risk. He doesn't whine, or walk around talking about it, but he'll offer a vague "oh, I'm gonna keep this mask on I'm under the weather" or such here and there. He cares for himself, takes care of his body, drinks tea, takes meds, rests, etc. Unlike some others in the office (cough Dazai cough) he won't push himself to the limits unless he absolutely has to, and even then, he's careful. He views it as 'more than just him on the line'~

I also think he always carries a handkerchief of two, which has saved more than just his nose in the past~

[waterfallofspace]

Ahhh I know I just asked for the Bingo for fyo/dor but is it okay to request a fyo/dor snz drabble? I'm looking for scenarios to draw uwu

It's absolutely fine if you don't wanna tho!

ofc!!~ I'm happy to write a lil somethin!~ (this came so easily, which is honestly such a relief hehe~ hopefully it's enjoyable, and can help be a bit of inspiration to get your own creative brain goin!~)

1.7k words, so a biiiit over what i said but it took me almost no time or strain, so I'm quite happy with that~ not super heavy on the snz, but hopefully still enjoyable!~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The melody could be heard echoing throughout the empty room. Each note seeming to take their turn to spread uninterrupted throughout the corridors.

Nikolai was out, on some mission Fyodor had hardly been listening to. Sigma was… well, at his casino probably. The man didn’t spend time anywhere else nowadays. 

It was peaceful, the solitude. Lonely for some, but Fyodor was not one of those souls who longed for companionship. The ability to play his cello, far from the prying ears and eyes of others, it was a welcome relief. 

Though, he came to realize quickly enough, he was not rid of all those who wished to pry just yet. He lets his eyes rest on a single corridor. Nothing moves, the stillness remains as unassuming as ever, and yet… he is not alone here. 

“Welcome,” Fyodor says, fingers never pausing their rhythmic strumming, bow tilting with his arm as he glides the strings against each other. “I was not expecting company so soon.” 

“But you were expecting me,” comes the reply, Dazai stepping carefully out of his position in the shadows. 

Fyodor simply nods the cello towards him, tilting his head back and opening a single eye to peer casually at the detective leaning against the wall. “Of course. You are surprised?” 

The game had begun long before either of them had spoken, and each move now was planned down to the letter. Right on cue, Dazai shook his head, letting a small chuckle slip from his lips. 

“Of course not,” Fyodor continued, letting his eyes drift shut again as the haunting melody begin to slow, a melancholy tune that sang of lost love and forgotten past. “There is no point in misleading, it is just us here.” 

“What a relief,” Dazai replies, lowering himself onto the floor and crossing his legs. “I was not looking forward to meeting whatever group you have with you down here in this place. Never was a fan of rats.” 

“And yet,” comes Fyodor’s response, fingers never missing a note. “You seem to have no issues with tigers.” 

There’s a pause. It’s not surprise, or fear, or even curiosity. Dazai is not sizing him up, nor weighing his options. Fyodor never pauses the song, cello singing out as his bow flies back and forth, slow and fast, each note at their time, in their place. 

“It’s beautiful,” Dazai finally says, after a long silence. His usual tone has… deepened. There’s something more genuine to it, and Fyodor opens his eyes and lowers his chin, meeting Dazai’s gaze. 

“It’s quite haunting, isn’t it?” 

There’s no answer, but then again, there was never going to be. Fyodor continues to play, and Dazai continues to listen. It’s not as simple as that, it never will be, never was, but in this moment… neither of them needs to draw attention to anything more that it might be. 

Eventually the melody draws to its end, Fyodor concluding it with a deep sigh, removing himself from his chair with a single movement. Dazai stands in the same, graceful as ever. Neither one makes a sound, not with voice or movement. They both stand for a moment, appreciating the silence in harmony. 

“Well,” Dazai says, the first to break it. He was always going to, but Fyodor can’t help the hint of disappointment that surges through his chest. Dazai continues, “That was lovely, but shall we get on with the real reason I’m here?” 

“I suppose,” Fyodor replies, turning his back to Dazai as he begins to tidy up the cello. “We both know why that is, do we not?” 

“I suspect we do.” 

“Then no need to beat around the bush,” Fyodor offers, turning to face Dazai with a soft smile. “What you have heard is true. Where you have heard it though, I admit I am not sure. Nikolai I suspect, though it doesn’t escape my notice that Sigma and him have been spending a fair amount of time, perhaps you got it from our dear casino owner instead.” 

“And you’re not going to, deny it?” Dazai responds, a hint of surprise lacing his tone. Whether it’s for show, or he’s truly surprised, Fyodor can’t be sure. He can’t help the chill of excitement that runs through him simply from that realization. That he isn’t sure. 

“What would be the point? I’ve known from the minute you walked in here that you were… shall we say, carrying something special,” Fyodor met Dazai’s eye, then drifted his gaze down to the bundle neatly contained in the inner jacket pocket. “A gift, I suspect? Or at least, under the guise of such.” 

The response is measured and slow, but deliberate. Dazai pulls out the parcel, and unwraps it to reveal a set of flowers that Fyodor had been seeing in his head since the second the scent reached him. Lilies, and beautiful ones at that. 

“They have quite the symbolic meanings, you know,” Dazai starts, taking a single step closer and beginning to twirl the lily through his fingers. Not unlike the way Fyodor held the bow to his cello, each stroke calculated and precise. 

“I’m aware, yes. Something about rebirth, new beginnings, and purity.” “Mm yes, but more than that,” Dazai continues, another step closer. Fyodor shows no noticeable sign of distress, he’s sure of that, but it takes conscious effort to resist the itch beginning to dance up the bridge of his nose. 

“Do tell?” 

“They symbolize innocence.” 

“Is that not the same as purity?” Fyodor offers back, though they both know it’s more of a lead-in than an actual question. Still, Dazai accepts the offer, moving one step closer as he does. It’s a dance, a back and forth, and their steps have thus far remained in sync. 

Not literal movement, Fyodor thinks, letting his mind slip for a second. In fact, since Dazai has drawn closer, he’s not moved a single step in any direction. He can’t help but wonder if Dazai knows why. 

Does he think it’s for fear of weakness? No, his weakness is on full display as Dazai draws the allergen closer with every step. Skilled as he may be at hiding it, there’s no doubt Dazai’s noticed the tremble in his breath, or the twitch of his nose. Pride? No again, neither of them are the type, and if Dazai thought he was, this dance wouldn’t be happening in the first place. 

No, Dazai is more than a simple adversary, and there’s no doubt in Fyodor’s mind that he knows exactly why he’s been allowed to get closer. For the thrill. 

It’s with a start that Fyodor realizes Dazai’s merely inches away, and has been talking this whole time. 

“You’re slipping, Dostoevsky,” Dazai says, a hint of disappointment in his tone, in harmony with amusement. “Distracted by something?” 

‘Yes,’ Fyodor thinks, ‘but not what you’d suspect.’ 

“I think you’ll find,” Dazai replies, answering the unspoken, “That you haven’t a clue what I might suspect.” 

Without a word, Fyodor turns on his heel abruptly. He doesn’t miss the single step back Dazai takes. There’s no surprise on his face, it’s purely to allow room. He can’t deny he’s grateful for that, as he draws his wrist up to his nose and lets loose the first set of stifles that he’d been building to since Dazai first step foot in the building. 

“hh’nGt!- eh’tNgt!- ngDt-! ah’kNGt! h’kgt-nh’dgt-ah’nngt!- ih’nGdT’uh!-” 

“Bless you,” Dazai hums. 

“Surprising, hearing that from you,” Fyodor responds, sniffling delicately against his wrist. “I didn’t think they had such customs around here.” 

“They don’t,” Dazai replies, his voice seeming to shed years like scales as he dipped back into something reminiscent of a teenager. “Just somethin’ I picked up from this annoying guy back in my Mafia days.” 

“And yet it stuck all this time,” Fyodor returns, rushing his words a touch more than he’d normally allow. The next fit was working its way through his sinuses, stifling had done him no favours, and his time was limited. “Must have been someone important if it worked its way this deep into your vocabulary.” 

“Ehh,” Dazai says, twirling the lilies and flicking his eyes down to Fyodor’s nose. No doubt twitching already, it’s all he can do to keep his nostrils from flaring, the tickle spreading deep and quick, like a forest fire through a dead valley. “More like someone who wouldn’t stop using it. Though I think it embarrassed him almost as much as those he used it on.” 

“Might have been the appeal?” Fyodor replies, well aware it’s the last he’ll get before-

“Don’t think so, not his style. More ours,” Dazai pauses, a grin shining out from his eyes alone. “Not done yet?”

They both know the answer. 

“hH’ishhuh!” Fyodor barely has time to turn again, this time cupping both his hands over his face as the fit breaks free. Stifling is more work than help at this point, no point suppressing this. “hH’TShh’uh!- eh’TSHhuh! tshhh’uh! tsHHh’uh!” 

“Blessings again- oh, still more?” 

The taunt is well understood, Fyodor hadn’t even stopped sneezing during that time. It was a show, a display, ‘I know you can’t stop, and I know this weakness.’ In other circumstances he might have been concerned, been planning counter moves long in advance, a way out, a way to end his opponent where they stand– 

“hhISHh’uh! iShh’uh! tzZSHhh’uh!” 

–But this game was long from over, and this move was merely a performative one. I know your weaknesses the same you know mine. For… enjoyment more than anything else. 

By the time Fyodor catches his breath enough to look up, the lilies are placed delicately on the chair beside the cello, wrapped in a thin piece of paper. Dazai himself, is nowhere to be seen. 

Leaning down, Fyodor unwraps it, pausing to direct another fit into his wrist, “hHishh’uh! iShhh’uh! tSHhh’uh! tiEShh’uh!” 

‘Bless you’, reads the paper. 

Fyodor smiles, reaching down and moving the lilies to the floor, before taking his seat once again. He picks up the bow, leans the cello between his legs, and begins to play anew. This time the melody is sweeter, something more airy, more innocent, more pure. 

“ishh’uh!- tShh’tshh’tshh-uh!” 

And not uninterrupted. 

[waterfallofspace]

g//ojo 🪶

Thanks for the request!~ Assuming this is a drabble req, and the feather emoji was not a tooon to work with so I uh- went a little incredibly self-indulgent with it... hope that's alright~ >/<

1.2k words so I'm sliiightly breaking my rule but not by a lot!!~ With these I'm not spending forever editing, just kinda writing and posting, get that creativity flowing, so hopefully this is enjoyable stil!~

(feat. kink!g/eto, and indulgent!g/ojo, doesn't go into nsfw details but def gets quite into the kinkness of this all so, be warned!~ also possibly be warned that it's a bit of a tease if you DO want the nsfw part written, as it's not <3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “You sure about this?” 

Gojo meets Geto’s eye, mischief glinting even from behind his sunglasses. He gives a slow nod, cocking his head to the side with a smirk. 

Geto had admitted recently to having a certain… interest. And well, Gojo Satoru was nothing if not indulgent. 

The feather slipped in easily enough, Gojo’s nostrils flaring on instinct. A chill ran through him, seemingly mimicked in Geto as the feather trembled. It was almost unbearable, and it took every ounce of control Gojo had not to break instantly. 

“W-whew, that suuhh… sure tickles a lot, I didn’t r-really think it would work this well,” Gojo hums, not missing the way Geto’s cheeks heat up with each hitchy breath. “I mean sure,” he continues, “I’m sensitive, but it juhh… j-just– hiHh!” 

There’s a pause as the feather stops its gentle rhythm, Gojo almost gasping as the sudden stillness for some reason seems to only feed the sneeze. He manages to get his breathing back under control, a single tear slipping from his eyes. 

When he glances over to Geto, he smirks at the pure lust in his eyes, teeth pressed against his lip. Well, he certainly wasn’t kidding, now was he. Gojo takes a small pause, steadies himself, and continues, eager to see just how far he can push this. 

“Sorry, got a bit too much for me there,” he purrs, the feather trembling as another chill runs down Geto’s spine. “Shall we continue?” 

Geto can only nod, the feather slowly beginning to trace its familiar circles once more. Gojo gasps, letting the breath out as a shaky sigh as the tickle dies back into the familiar itch. 

“As I waahh- was saying, I’m quite sehh.. sensitive- hhhieHh–! Mmm. Sensitive, but it just feels so cartoonish? A feather, m-making… making… making you sneeehhze- hhh… hih- hHIH–!” 

This time Gojo presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth, managing to fend off the sneeze at the last second. In front of him, Geto visibly trembles. 

“Woah, ‘scuse me! Almost got away from me there,” Gojo purrs, sniffling roughly. It’s only after that he realizes just how bad of a move that was. 

The feather twitches inside his nose, swirling around in random patterns as the rush of air moves the tufts in all new directions. Gojo barely has time to breath a strangled “Suguru-” before he’s ducking into his wrist with a desperate- “hHHEASHh-ASHH’oo!-” 

Geto, for his part, has the common sense to pull the feather out just before Gojo ducks away. The relief from the rapid double is quickly overshadowed by the itch. Well. This is an unexpected twist. Though, Gojo admits to himself, maybe it shouldn’t have been. 

“S-suguru, I think… thihhh…” Gojo starts, his eyes beginning to flutter shut again, “I think I might- might behhe, aller- ahhh… allehhrgic– hhHIEH! Guhh… allergic to the feaahhehh– feather.” 

“What makes you say that?” Geto murmurs, voice low and raw. Under any other circumstances Gojo might have pinned Geto against a wall just for the tone, but he’s currently a little preoccupied. He doesn’t miss the edge of lust though, his eyes flickering up to meet Geto’s. 

“It tiihhh– tickles,” Gojo whines, scrunching up his nose and attempting to scratch the itch hands free. “It feels like the feahhther… f-feather is….. ihhhs… it- it feels like it’s still ihhn my nuhhh… nose!” 

The tickle hits its crescendo, and Gojo lets his eyes drift shut, nostrils flaring, tongue peeking out between his teeth, ready to snee-

Instead, he lets out a breathy whimper as he feels something pinch his nose shut. His eyes snap open again to reveal Geto kneeling over him, fingers against his nose. Gojo doesn’t have enough breath to speak, the tickle still burning its way through his sinuses. 

He can only whimper, Geto letting out a low growl of a moan in reply. They stay like that for a minute, Gojo working his hands up to grip Geto’s hips, nails digging into his fabric. Geto holding Gojo’s nose, eyes burning with desire. 

“S-suguru, I have… I have to… please-” Gojo begs, blinking out a few tears as the tickle reaches his eyes. Geto, for his part, shivers. The chill runs through him and into Gojo, leaving them both quivering with anticipation. 

“Ready?” Geto purrs, a low noise that nearly chases the tickle away as Gojo bites his lip instinctively in response. 

“hHIEHh–” Is all Gojo can manage in return before Geto gently rubs his fingers together, releasing some of the pressure. The movement sends shockwaves of tickles through Gojo’s nose, his eyes shutting instantly as his breath catches again. 

“I don’t think you’ll even need this,” Geto says, using his other hand to bring the feather up, “but might as well make sure these don’t get stuck, right Satoru?” 

There’s no response aside from Gojo’s desperate hitches, his chest rising and falling in uneven intervals as he fights the urge to push Geto off and just get this sneeze out. After all, this is for Suguru, for his enjoyment, and Satoru is nothing if not indulgent. 

He doesn’t need to wait long before Geto releases his nose fully, slipping the feather in at the same time in one graceful movement. The damn breaks instantly. 

“EESHHH’OO!- Oh thank god, tZSHh’aa! hH’IEShh-ishhh’ishhh’ishhh’ishhh–iew!” 

With each tiny burst, the feather jostles, leaving Gojo no time to do anything but gasp again, building into another useless sneeze as his nose tries desperately to fight against the overwhelming itch. 

“tshh-tshh-tshhiew! eh’ESihh! ieShhh’ishh’ishhh’ishhh-ew! Suguru I- ashh’oo! asSHh’oo! I don’t thhhihh- think I’m- eh’AShhew!” 

Gojo can hear Geto whimper in the background, but doesn’t have time to enjoy it before his nose lets loose with another, “ashh’ahshh’ashh-uh! I don’t think I’m st-stopping… hH’EAShh-oo! eAShh’ashh’ashh’ashhhew!” 

Finally, after what feels like forever, Geto takes hold of the feather again, giving it one final spin before pulling it out. The sensation of it leaving is almost as overwhelming as it entering, and Gojo only has time to pull himself into Geto’s chest before the final sneezes break free. 

“iHH’MFSHH-oo! mMMFPSHh’aa! Whew, that was, wow,” Gojo says with a deep sniffle, watery eyes meeting Geto’s gaze. Seems they’re both out of breath. 

“Are you alright?” Geto asks, thumbing away a stray tear from Gojo’s cheek. It’s a genuine question, clearly checking if this was too much. He’s been witness to more than one of Gojo’s infamous fits, but this was a bit intense even by his standards.

“Perfectly,” Gojo smiles, that glint of mischief back in his eyes. “I had no idea I could drive you this insane, Suguru. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so undone.” 

“Oh shut up, Satoru,” Geto replies.

“Make me,” Gojo retorts, grinning as Geto pulls him in for a hungry kiss. He kisses back greedily, running his hands up Geto’s back. He only pauses to lean against Geto’s neck and let out another, “hh’tSSHhiew!-” 

Geto pulls him back into the kiss, running his fingers through Gojo’s hair. Breaking away once more, Gojo whispers in his ear, “You know, you really picked the right kink to have. You should hear me, I almost never stop sneezing.” 

A chill runs down Geto’s spine, paralleled in Gojo’s as teeth grip at his neck, then find their way to his ear to reply, “I’m quite aware.”

[waterfallofspace]

Fy/odor from bsd?

(again assuming this is for bingo~) I'd love to!~ Ah, horrible awful men that are goddamn gorgeous, how I hate to love you and love to hate you <3

Bingo under the cut!~ & rambles

I definitely think this man gets sick way too often, and is quite sensitive to cold, and this is- this is basically canon (though the anime cuts it out because thEy Hate uS sob.) and I think he's definitely the type to keep working on what he is, maintain composure, but be slowly crumbling before their eyes (wants to be more subtle than he is, but points to him, it will never stop him, even when he's so dizzy from the fever he can barely stand)

I also hc quite hard that he is allergic to like, all of nature. The outside Does Not Agree With Him. And for Lore/Spoiler reasons or not, I don't think medication helps much, and he's quite against it since it might interact.... interestingly with his body at times~

I also think his buildups are long, and he suffers from false starts a lot, but you wouldn't be able to tell from the outside (unless you're someone like dazai, nikolai, ranpo, etc. either a 'genius' or someone who knows him/hangs around him a lot) and that he can quite easily 'lose' them, though given he's almost always trying not to sneeze, i'm not sure 'lose' is the right word~

Also def a chronic stifler who has those rapid fits where you aren't sure they're breathing, though he recovers swiftly and gracefully- can just duck to the side with like 12 bottled up stifles painfully piled over each other, and then just stand up and resume speech as normal~

[waterfallofspace]

cho//zo....? 🤭

I'm gonna assume this means C/hoso...? but if it doesn't, I'm so sorry!~ this bingo is for 'c/hoso', and if 'cho/zo' is a different character, I don't think I'm familiar <3 (all meant as genuine, not teasing <3 I genuinely want to make sure I'm answering the right character~)

(last bingo in this set so hopefully the spam will go down a little <33)

Bingo sheets under the cut!~ + rambling as always

Choso my beloved aghagh <3 i think as part curse who isn't used to this world, he is just- so allergic to most things. And also just the most sensitive, I put 'weird allergy', it doesn't exactly fit, but I hc so hard that if you touch/stroke/anything on his facial markings, the one over his nose, it gets him so desperately sneezy~ little kitten snz too, that he stifles instinctually, no one taught him he just does it~

I think he gets sick a lot, again, not used to the world, and he does not know/care to take care of himself well enough to prevent it, and he doesn't want to get anyone else sick (especially his 'family') but he also doesn't want to be alone <3