Welp, Pro-Hero B/akugou won the poll. So, here’s a fic of him x you (aka, x reader).
Few content warnings before you continue: Kink B/akugou, Sick reader, mess/congestion, established relationship, Timeskip/Adult B/akugou, you both work at the same agency, mention of getting turned on. So, yeah. Uh, what else…oh yeah, I won’t write out sneezes for this. As much as I would love to do so, I have a good sense that not all of you reading want to fantasize on this with reading sneezes out that probably doesn’t even sound or seem like you. Please don’t reblog to nonsnz blogs, minors don’t interact.
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It was loud. The throbbing of your headache as it increased intensity while being on Patrol with your famous partner: Katsuki Bakugou. Now Bakugou wasn’t exactly thrilled about being outside due to the amount of sick civilians ‘in his way’ as he claimed. You and him have been walking around for about an hour so far, only for Bakugou to plop onto a nearby pile of rubble from a past villain attack.
“This is ridiculous. There’s no villains out here.”
The grumbling reminded you of how he used to be in high school at U.A. Sometimes Bakugou acted like such a loser in a popular body. You just nodded a bit, not having much urge to verbally express anything. It would also give you away that you were under the weather. How so? Bakugou picked up on others habits and such fast. And I mean, real fast. Upon seeing your nod, he just smirked.
“What? Got nothing to say to me, babe?”
He was teasing of course. He always did with you. It was his way of being affectionate in a sense. Due to the fact he hated. Absolutely HATED PDA in public spaces. This little hint verbally was equivalent to that in his eyes. Yet, you never minded. This was Katsuki Bakugou we’re talking about here.
“Mmhm.”
A simple hum from you, though it felt…raspy, congested. Bakugou tilted his head slightly, his smirk softening into a grin very slowly. As if he was calculating something behind those gears you could visibly see shifting behind those crimson eyes of his. Slowly and steadily, Bakugou rose from his spot on the rubble — walked up to stand in front of you, without warning he lifted his hand and used the back of it to feel around your forehead. Fingers lingering, knuckles dragging exaggeratedly to your flushed cheeks.
“You’re burnin’ up, babe.”
He stated flatly, though you noticed a twitch of his ears as they began turning red slightly. You smiled a little bit, however it faded just as quick as it appeared. You stepped back and turned away, coughing into the crook of your elbow. Bakugou stared, his gaze went from your face buried in your arm towards your chest. The observant nature he had kicking into a higher position. The way you coughed seemed like hell, but it was worse for him when he saw that subtle change in your expression. Specifically your eyes’ as a hitched gasp came out.
“Oi, you go—”
You sneezed, cutting Bakugou off. The two of you fell into a silence which felt like an eternity. Until he cleared his throat, glancing at literally EVERYTHING but you. You scrubbed at your nose, sniffling. There was that feeling you were gonna do it again, your nose running slightly behind your hand in front of your face. Peripheral vision — Bakugou glanced back to you, cheeks turning a pink hue. Before you could ask, another sneeze slipped out. This one a bit messier than the last. He couldn’t take it anymore.
“Bless, now shut the fuck up and take these?!”
Bakugou shoved a mini wrapper of travel pack styled tissues into your chest while you were still recovering from that second sneeze. “Katsuki?” You asked, nasally. He blinked, going a dark red before he snarled. The audacity Bakugou had to turn around and cross his arms like a petulant child when something was wrong. Loser behavior…
“You need rest, dummy. We’re going home.” “We’re?” “Yes. You. Me. Us. We are going home.” “‘M fine, Kats. I just…jushhh—” You turned your head, having a fit of sneezes, rapid fire into the tissues. Bakugou hearing those noises wasn’t helping the…issue, in his hero costume pants. He kept his arms crossed, staring at you. It took a long moment for you to finally stop sneezing, and the moment you opened your eyes again; Bakugou was staring with a certain expression. One with intensity but also…arousal mixed with awe and anticipation.
Oh? So he did like seeing you break down in a vulnerable moment.
—
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—
After Patrol, returning home; Bakugou turned on the lights and began to head to the bathroom to shower. However, he paused and turned to watch you locking up the front door, shivering miserably with a cough and sniffle. He took a deep breath, calming down his…bodily reaction, and went back over to you. “Baby, c’mon, you need a warm shower more than I do.” “Seriously? I already told ya’, ‘m fine…” You protested, the nose twitch and hitch once you were done that remark gave it away you indeed weren’t fine. Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Yeah, totally not gonna sneeze right now are you?” “Is that what you want, love?” You asked in return.
Never seen Bakugou go so red in the face or speechless before in the entire time you’ve known him.
“I—I—oh shut up, dumbass. I don’t.”
Defensive posture combined with a nervous and shy voice crack, yeah, he definitely wanted you to do it again. You glanced down, he was beyond aroused right now. Bakugou grumbled, then without warning he lifted you and dragged you to the bathroom.
“‘M gonna kill you.” “Uh-huh. S—hh—surehhh!—”
Stifling a sneeze into his shoulder by accident, Bakugou tensed for a moment then spoke again. When he did, it was so…absurdly gentle.
“Bless you, baby.”
“Tha’bn’b d’ou…”
“Oh, you’re so congested…my poor baby.”
He coo’d that. Bakugou. THE. Katsuki. Bakugou. Cooing?! At you! While you’re sick?! The world must be ending.
“Let’s get you a shower, into something more comfortable and then we can eat din—oh, you gonna do it again?” “I just might…in spite of knowing how it makes…makes you…fehhh—hah-!”
Another round of sneezing hit you, quite harshly. Bakugou just kept you against him, taking his time to the bathroom with you in his arms. Each time you’d sneeze, didn’t matter how, Bakugou stared then grunted a quiet and shy “bless” after everyone.
You and your noises were gonna be the death of him.
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—
Shower was done, steam slowly disappearing from the hallway and bathroom. You and Bakugou were now at the dining table, both in more comfortable clothes, he fed you some medicine beforehand. And just because he felt like it, made you soup. While eating, Bakugou glanced to your face.
“You’ve got that look.” “
“What look?”
“The one where you’re holding back a sneeze.”
“I’m not holding back anything. And why’re you so obsessed over how I look when I sneeze?”
“Oh I dunno, maybe because it’s making me lost in my own head. Those stupid noises you make are driving me crazy.”
“Really now?”
“Yes, you asshole.”
Silence hit for a few seconds, then a hitch from you cut through it like a freshly sharpened blade. Bakugou looked up and down, went around the table and simply turned you to be against his front, face buried into his chest. Then he pleaded, in a tone of desperation. Something rare from him.
“Keep doin’ that, please. I wanna hear it.”
As you let loose, Bakugou kissed the top of your head.
“Good, damn baby….bless you, bless….”
The little praising.
He was down horrendously, wasn’t he?
“If y—hh—fuck—if you keep this up you’re gonna get sick…”
You warned, gasping and sniffling while coughing.
“Does it seem like I give a damn? You’ve gone and got me riled up. Gonna make you pay for it some way or another. Maybe we should take this to the bedroom? Let you be more a sick mess on my—”
“Katsuki.”
“What? ‘M just giving’ a suggestion, babe.”
“Keep that to yourself.”
Bakugou smirked.
“Aw, you’re twitching again.”
“Don’t you dare…”
“Too late.”
Bakugou leaned down, planting kisses to your nose all over, he didn’t care about germs right now. Compared to how he usually is, the thoughts and urges of his body’s reaction was stronger than his pride and fears. You ducked your head down, having another fit. Ears picking up Bakugou’s genuine laughter. Soft. At ease. Delighted.
“Fuck baby, bless you.”
Today doesn’t seem as miserable for you now, considering you know a weakness to use against Bakugou at any given time. He’ll be extra happy later if you went through with his implicated suggestion.
—
I went a bit overboard with this, sorry it isn’t longer. The next fic is gonna be the Creepypasta one since that was the top second voted. And after that, a short fic of Ryuzaki sneezing. Hope this was enough for y’all. I tried my best.
AN: 4300 words of pure contagion/mess filth and inner dialogue. Elanos modern au and there’s some weird semi sentient fey virus that makes you stupid (lowering wisdom score). And makes it so the patient intentionally becomes more contagious. plays into his whole obedient dog complex big time. featuring @quosterking 's forthwind near the end!!
This one is weird. ofc cw contagion and mess heavy.
At A Hex's Mercy
When was the last time he’d woken up sick? Felt like forever ago, because he couldn’t remember ever feeling this uncomfortable in his face and his throat. A raw stinging paired with a thick, dense wall of pressure that made his nose itch.
Elanos sat up with a blink and lazily swung his feet off to the side of the bed. Yup. Definitely sick. He swallowed. No fever yet, though; that’s good.
Looking at his phone stung his eyes — barely 8am — and he tried to take a deep breath to wake up fully. The breath got about as ‘deep’ as his throat before he had to cough.
“Hh—IiSSCHhh!!…iih’SCHIIEeww!!”
And sneeze. Woah. He blinked and raised a hand to cup under his chin. That was aggressive, more than he had time to register, and he realized too late his nose was about to run onto his shirt. He sat still for a bit, eyes bleary, waiting for his brain to catch up.
It was probably just a cold, if that was anything to go off of. The drippy, itchy, obnoxious kind that he could probably hide if he went the whole day without speaking, if that was an option.
His nose finally dripped, and he stood, going for the tissue box on his desk on the opposite side of the room with a mutter.
————
“I can’t come in. I’m sick. Likely contagious.”*
He had to call out of work, as much as it pained him. Illnesses never lasted too long for him, he’d give it about a day or so; if it lasted till tomorrow, he’d have to call out again, and that would just eat away at him until he became sick with anxiety instead. His head was starting to hurt from the pressure, and between texting his absence and getting washed up, he’d gone through about a dozen tissues already. He sorely dabbed another to his nose, sniffling while waiting for the response.
It wasn’t so bad, just uncomfortable. His eyes teared up a lot when he was sick, it’d been that way for as long as he can remember, and he’d explained too many times that he wasn’t crying, it was just a cold. Pursing his lips, he sniffled, and sighed.
His nose was itching more than it should. The thought crossed his mind when he gave up on using the tissue to rub his nose and opted to knuckle at it instead. What did that mean, more than it ‘should’? Like it was genuinely making his face itch from malice…a glance in the mirror would indicate it was effective, if that’s what was intended. He looked all red in the face, his eyes were puffy, and coughing brought both tears and mucus, like he was leaking from every orifice…
“What is wrong with mbe…?” He muttered to himself. In another world, his reflection would've answered.
The urge to go about his day was strong, despite the discomfort. Maybe it was his desperation for structure and order, for someone else to hold the leash instead of himself. He felt compelled to get dressed, eat breakfast, and go on a walk. Exercise was good for illness, so he didn’t need to justify it; hitting the gym may be overkill, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t go out anyway. He could stock up on tissues, run an errand. Was there something he had to get while he was out? His head felt foggy as he tried to recall who might need him to do a run to the corner store.
His phone buzzed, indicating he would be taking the day off — if he wasn’t in top condition, he would be more a liability than anything in his line of work. Blowing his nose one more time, he finally discarded the tissue.
Getting dressed for comfort meant athleisure, along with a simple black mask he usually wore for the purposes of keeping in the background, out of the way. But now, it felt like a scratchy, humid muzzle, withholding him. He pinched it over the bridge of his nose with another sniffle. The pressure stung the nerves.
“Snf…hhF-“
His finger looped over the edge of his mask.
“HHIh!IiYSSChhhiiuhww!!”
It only got pulled down halfway over his mouth before a sneeze violently expelled moisture over the papery surface.
“…huh…” He remarked after a breath. Itchy…his nose was running and soaking the edge of the mask that now pushed up against his reddened lips. A messy wet sniffle calmed his nerves a little, and he pulled the mask back up.
———
There was a pharmacy not far from where he lived. Far enough to warrant a ride, but not unwalkable; such were the series of thoughts he had when he stepped out onto the street and stared at the empty driveway.
His car…he’d lent it the day before for a few friends running an art show. It took a moment to remember. His shoulders slouched.
There was a moderate breeze, so he could walk, it was only about twenty minutes. Or he could take the bus, get rid of some spare change in his pocket that he was going to get himself some tea with. Elanos scratched behind his ear and sniffled again. He could ponder it on the way. Surely, by the time he was halfway, he could bite the bullet and finish the rest of the journey. It was a bit cool, but his forehead felt sweaty…maybe he should jog, cut the time off by a bit. He shrugged off his top layer and tied it around his waist, leaving a black tee underneath.
There was a crosswalk he approached, where two people were chatting, water bottles in hand, one with a dog. Likely on a run since it was still the morning. He stood idly by, twisting the crumpled bit of tissue in his pocket.
You need to sneeze, he heard his inner voice say. You should. Not sure why, but the thought was enough to provoke a small itch. He rubbed his nose, which was warm, even with the paper barrier.
“HhHNgKK’sshh!!”
That sounded…kinda thick. He coughed, rattling up what had dripped down to his throat. The chatter briefly paused.
That somehow did it. It was a sneeze that demanded attention, and attention it got; loud, disruptive, visuals were quite disgusting, he'd imagine. A sneeze like that he’d normally keep private.
His face burned as he tried to sniffle up the mess that got caught under the mask, pressing his wrist against the outside and feeling that dreaded spot of moisture. The other two at the crosswalk had turned after offering a quick blessing, which Elanos was much too preoccupied to deal with. He finally pulled the mask down to dab the crumpled, ratty tissue to his lip.
The moment the light changed, the others resumed their run, and one more sneeze likely encouraged them to pick up speed. When he blinked away the wetness in his eyes, he saw spots of slightly darkened pavement. Was his nose running that much? Usually he wasn’t so…drippy. A touch to the tip of his nose revealed a stray thread of mess had clung on, overwhelming the volume of the tissue that was barely holding itself together.
It’s fine, he told himself, just cover that up for now. Nobody has to see. You can buy more when you get to the pharmacy.
The mask went up again with a sniff and a deep furrow of his brows.
———
His nose was itching the whole way there. When he arrived, he’d spent a solid half minute just sneezing in the aisle, garnering the attention of at least three other customers who turned to camp out in the next aisle until he was done. Dramatic, head-thrown, hands free on account of the mask. It left him a bleary-eyed and stuffy mess.
He made the mistake of rubbing his nose with the mask still on, and the sound got every hair on the back of his neck standing upright. Yuck.
Focus, he told himself. You’re here to run errands, not to announce yourself.
He dragged himself to the selection of cold medication. There were so many colours swimming before his eyes, from labels to price tags to fine print that blurred with how teary he was. The flavour of medication he didn’t care much for, but the strength of each would be important. He didn’t like to nap…
This one had tablets — he picked it up to read the label — so it was preferable. Came with drowsiness though. The other options of comparable strength were liquid, and he didn’t care for that. His nose was starting to itch again, and with frustration, he pulled the mask down so the paper would stop rubbing against his skin. Fresh air hit his sweaty face as he tried to breathe in, only to spur on a ragged cough.
He grabbed another bottle. This one worked as cough syrup. Should that be necessary? Why was it so expensive? He put that one back with a frown.
Elanos glanced down the aisle to see a few long boxes — masks, that he could replace this one with. Without a second thought, he pulled it off his face and noisily blew his nose into it. He waited for a moment, focusing on the immediate heaviness of the paper before shoving it into his pocket. The first breath brought on cold air, the second became a bit more liquidy.
“Hhahh…ugh, no-“
A plea for his own body to listen, to give him a break. No such luck. He didn’t have anything to contain-
“Hh!hAH! AadtTSSChhhoo!!…hhSSCHhhhhww!!”
His sleeve was perfectly fine. Why did he sneeze into his hands? He only noticed when he pulled away and felt coolness against the wet spots on his cheek and palms. Clasping his hands back onto his face would prove futile, and he did his best to at least tidy his backhand on his collar. That would definitely be going on the laundry when he got back but for now…
He needed to wash his hands.
Or.
Well.
If he was going to ask for a pharmacist, he may as well get what he needed. He kept one palm to his nose and then reached for one of the many boxes of cold medication and a small package of three tissue boxes to tuck under his arm. What else, what else…he saved money from not taking the bus so he could spend it now. Maybe like a…a cold coffee-? He didn’t really like sweet drinks, and this shouldn’t be too good for his throat, but it would be refreshing…
He clumsily grabbed a canned coffee from the shelf and wandered back to the counter where he could finally ask.
“D-do you hhaAVe— have a washroom?”
“Oh— yes but-“ The pharmacist looked to the side with hesitance as he spilled all his stuff onto the counter, “I’ll…I can put in the code for you. It’s just around this corner.”
“Thagks…”
———
When he had finally washed off his face and his hands, he looked in the mirror. This cold was progressing sort of quickly. He looked paler than when he had left. His nose was this drippy, red splotch on the centre of his face. When he coughed, it had resonance. He needed to get home. Get home, and eat something…
In the sanctity of the bathroom, he could blow his nose and cough as much as he needed before going back out; the thought of people waiting for him to finish up didn’t cross his mind until he stepped out and saw a bored shopper on their phone, standing just outside.
The pharmacist had his stuff put to the side, and he paid with a quiet thanks. They seemed in a hurry to get him out anyway.
He was about to start making his way home when a buzz came from his pocket. Who would call this early…? Ah. Forthwind? He coughed hard a few times before answering.
“Hello?” Yikes. His voice was shot. He cleared his throat and was about to try again when his friend answered.
“Oh good! Glad you’re awake! Look, are you busy tonight? I had dinner plans that fell through, but I still want to try that new bar that opened up. I know you mentioned you wanted to try their stuff too, so if you aren’t doing anything, would you want to come with me?”
“I…I’m not busy-“ He answered mindlessly. There was a pause. You're not busy, but you’re sick. What are you doing? Going out drinking! You should be in bed. As if to reprimand him, he coughed once more.
“Woah. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine-“ You are not.
“You sound a little hoarse,” He’s right.
“It’s just a cold.” Just?
“A cold! Maybe you should stay in…you doing okay on your own?”
“Yeah,” He sucked in a breath. Why are you still talking? You need to go home and eat and sleep, “Heading back. It’s not so bad…I think I can nap it off.”
“Heading back? Why are you out? You can call me if you needed to get something you know.”
“It’s not far. I had to go to the pharmacy—“ He felt his throat itching again. Oh, gods, it was all in his chest. Coughing became an entire ordeal, a fit. The sounds were unpleasant to say the least and he didn’t even have a mask on to muffle it this time, “I’mb heading back. I need to rest. Getting sort of…sweaty. And hungry.”
“Hungry?” The word was like a code, a Pavlovian bell to an eager dog, “Why don’t I bring something over?”
“You don’t ha—have tuhH…hh!hHEH! EtTSCHhhihww!! HHPTsschhyihwww!!…snnff…dhh-dont worry about it…HHYsschhhihwww! Hh…sorry-“
“Well I can’t leave you hanging after all that. I’ll let you go now though, you should be home as soon as possible, goodness. Bless you. I’ll be over in an hour, if you can hold on that long.”
“Ghhuh—I said-“
“I know what you said. But you sound awful and I don’t like the thought of you cooking on your own.”
“Hhah—ATTSCHHihhww!! Ffh…ohh, udh- can I call you back?”
“Please do.”
He hung up and hurriedly tore open the new box of tissues. Streaks of mess were all over his shirt. He felt his face burning. What was this that he had? He never had a cold this violent in his whole life! Especially considering he was the well-mannered type, this was full-on supernatural…
He awkwardly mopped up the nastiness on his shirt before blowing his nose into the wad of tissues. This was becoming hazardous…
———
He was a runner, so going the distance home now that he had all his errands was less of a walk and more of a sudden blacked-out skip in time. One minute he was heading out of the parking lot, the next he was wheezing and coughing his way to the front door, arms and palms clammy from where he had gripped his shopping bags.
His head was burning and his fingers were cold…if it was a sickness that progressed this quickly, he may have underestimated it. Just a tad. A bad cold or a flu, he figured; best to get something in his stomach immediately so he could lie down.
When his key finally gave way, he hurried inside and first opened the package of pills. His hands were a little shaky, that’s probably not good. Two now, then in eight hours, two more. Down the hatch. Now he was running on a timer; if the drowsiness hit too early he’d be done for.
He pulled off his shirt to throw in the wash, scurrying into a warmer pyjama top, shorts and socks. And a hefty blanket he could bring with him.
The kitchen was stocked with all sorts of fresh ingredients but he could only focus on the cans of soup he kept for emergencies. Perhaps…tomato. And he could manage a grilled cheese, couldn’t he? It took like ten minutes to make at most.
That was stirring up all sorts of chaos in his sinuses, in his chest. It tickled to breathe, but it aches. He felt like shit.
The admission was more damning than the symptoms. Usually a paragon of health, he supposed an actual illness would hit harder to make up for it. A trembling hand reached for the cold metal handle of the fridge.
The first thought that hit him was that *he was cold.* His body was running on fumes to the point it just manifested his bodily reactions as sentient thought, then? Elanos felt the cold air of the refrigerator hitting his knees and he suddenly felt chills. Genuine chills, as if from a fever. Was he feverish?
Shut the fridge, his mind ordered. He folded his hands into his blanket and wrapped it tighter around himself.
“HhIIH!!itssSshHhwww!! Snnnfk-!”
Elanos exhaled.
He was really, really leaking. Coughing brought up mucous. Sneezing did too, obviously. But breathing? He felt like he was starting to melt from the inside.
A garbled groan escaped as he tried to contain everything in his hands. Spray misted the reflective surface of his fridge. Why was he sneezing so much?! He went to rinse his hands and sneezed on the tap; when he went to dry his hands and had to catch another two into paper towel.
Some cruel joke! Only striking when most inopportune.
His phone was ringing and he struggled to not sneeze at that for some reason. His head turned and the resulting mess landed in the blanket instead and clung to his face in pale threads.
“Hhuh?”
“Elanos? You said you’d call back? Wanted to make sure everything is alright, you know.”
“Y-Yeah…”
There was silence as he sniffled.
“…and is it?”
“Whad?”
“Is everything alright? You sound horrible…no offence.”
“I don’t need cold medication, I need a god damn exorcism…” He said with a shudder, “Not alright. Far frohHm—! From…hhIH!!-hnGkssHHHihwww!! Hahh…”
“You’re breathing kind of heavy…” A spike in urgency from Forthwind’s voice made his skin flesh up with goosebumps, “Where are you?”
“Kitchen…getting really chilly…”
“I’m coming over soon. Hang in there, alright?”
“Uhh huh…”
“Can you unlock the door for me?”
“…yeah…”
“Okay. Don’t do anything, just stay put.”
He nodded, though nobody could see. Unlock the door, he’d been asked…alright. He could do that. It wasn’t so far…
He shakily got down the stairs, blanket dragging in the foyer as he approached. Door…unlocked. Then what? Stay put? He slumped down against the wall. Oh, his head was hurting, it was swimming. Everything was starting to feel too uncomfortable for his own body. He wanted to be close to someone so he wouldn’t be left running mad as he fended this off. Wincing, he slouched further on a spot between the foyer and the living room that had a nice cool hardwood finish. He put his palm down.
———
Elanos woke up to someone holding his shoulders. He was on the ground. Drooling. Did he seriously just take a nap on the floor? Forthwind was over him with a mask and gloves.
“You scared me! I thought you had fainted! You were only sleeping, right?” The other aasimar exhaled with such relief, for a moment, Elanos felt well again.
“Sleeping…really drowsy…”
The medication. Had…he taken the right dose? Oh gods, did he double up? Swallowing four pills would be impressive but he could do it. What was he supposed to be doing now? He wiped the saliva off his jaw.
“Come on- help me help you get up. I can’t shoulder your entire weight right now, I’m carrying things.”
He steadied himself on the wall and wiped his mouth and nose with his hand.
“Y-you really shouldn’t have-“ He said with a croak, “iiHdt—it’s! HhISSCHhhuhww!! AdtTSHHyyhwww!! Sorry-! HhH! AH!aptssHHIhhwww!! Sorry-“
“My goodness,” The wings on either side of Forthwind’s head fanned out in surprise, “You sounded a little delirious over the phone and now I see why…”
“I did?”
“Just a tad.”
Elanos scrunched up his face. He thought he sounded just fine, thank you. He sniffled wetly and raised his arm.
“Ah-! I have tissues. You don’t need to use your sleeve.”
“O-oh…hhaah—“
“Sorry, Elanos, I’m just going to ask that you cover your mouth-“
“—atssHHHihhww!!”
A relatively small sneeze compared to before. But covered. By request. Elanos figured that if Forthwind was being so candid, he probably had the same divine health. Maybe his immune system would stand a better chance.
“I’m going to make you something to eat. I’m no priest but it’s as close to an exorcism as we can get, just like you asked.”
“Uh huh…”
“You can sit over here- no, not on the floor. Counter. Sit there and I’ll be done in no time. I prepared most of the ingredients at home.”
He had to put his head down. The second he was seated, the cool countertop tile called for him and he pressed his feverish face to it to continue his sleep. Now that there were sounds of someone else milling about, he found himself in a much more languid state.
———
“Your pupils are huge…what’s the matter here?”
He was roused by someone beside him setting down a bowl of something delicious. The steam was enticing.
“It’s hot!…I said it’s hot! Elanos!”
Such a sharp tone. He froze. Forthwind sighed.
“Wait for it to cool a little. Or blow on it. What has gotten into you?”
He let his friend tie his hair back as he cradled the soup bowl in both hands before tenderly blowing on the surface so he could sip it. Forget the spoon, he wanted to eat. This was meant to be breakfast!
He reached for tissues on the counter, trying to wipe off the mess caught in his cupped hand. His head turned to Forthwind instinctively who recoiled.
“Sorry—hHHSChhhiieehww!! Augh…it won’t stop-“
“Don’t- Elanos, turn that way! Don’t aim at me— turn! Your pupils are seriously blown wide, are you high?”
“Nuh uh…”
He blew his nose with a noisy flare of sound. Lot to get rid of there...
“Your fever isn’t nearly high enough to cause delirium…”
Forthwind was rattling off some other theory as Elanos fully immersed himself in drinking the soup. Delicious and filling, he felt the broth go down the itchy part of his throat and clear up his sinuses. In other words…divine! He felt it leak onto his chin and lazily swiped it off.
“…you haven’t ticked off a fey recently, have you?”
“I don’t know…”
“You seem to be exhibiting a lot of, well, signs of inebriation. And you don’t drink while sick, I know that much.”
“Mmhm…”
He continued to eat, listening to Forthwind between gulps of broth.
“It feels like someone’s playing a gag on you because I r- slow down before you choke. I recall there is a hex of some kind that is all symptoms of a cold, but mixed with a bit of enchantment. You spilt some.”
That’s what sleeves are for. He reached for the counter but was gently chided into using a tissue before he got to it.
“In any case, the soup ought to help. It’s got that divine quality! Which is funny, because so do you,” Forthwind took the empty bowl from him to the sink. He still had his mask and gloves on, and Elanos stared ahead, stupidly, nose dripping, waiting for him to finish up, “I’m putting you to bed after this. Are you still hungry?”
“I could go for ah-adother. My eyes are starting to hurt…is that normal?” He paused to cough and ended up wheezing through Forthwind’s next statement.
“Maybe. Could be the dilation. You should be good to have something a bit lighter, so I brought you some banana bread…”
“Pair with coffee…”
“Uh, no, pair with hot tea and bed. Gods, you really are high.”
“I’m hungry…”
The banana bread was taken from a tote and carefully set in front of him on a plate so he could devour it without grace. He had crumbs on his hands, crumbs on the counter…and he was being taken away upstairs.
“You’ll feel better after a nap. Hexes rarely last long,” Forthwind said, guiding him to the bathroom so he could wash up. He shied away to the doorway as Elanos let out another sneeze towards the sink and mirror, “I’ll-! Clean up downstairs!”
He's not too stupid to brush his teeth. Washing up took no time at all, and he spent another minute trying to look down his throat with the limited light in the bathroom mirror. Forthwind was waiting outside and offered an arm for him to rest against as he was helped into bed.
“You look incredibly tired. Did you take anything?”
He nodded, wriggling deep into the covers. His head sank into the pillows and he felt the liquid in his head shift. His sinuses were all sensitive.
“Good. I mean it when I say to call me if you need anything,” A hand came to his forehead, “Don’t need you stumbling everywhere in this state. Good thing you didn’t drive.”
“Thanks for the food…”
“Of course. Any time. Figured it would help based on how you sounded over the phone.”
Elanos nodded and closed his eyes to the sound of someone descending the stairs and the quiet washing of dishes. Maybe his cognition was a bit off, but he was lucid enough to know he was in good hands.
((here's a Baku//Deku messfucker fic. The porn is the plot lol and i'm not sorry. HEAVY on the mess/contagion warning))
After a long day of teaching and grading papers, Izuku wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and die. He already made sub plans, even though he hated doing it. When he got home, he weakly announced his presence, slipped off his work shoes, exchanged them for house slippers, and dragged his feet through the flat. He snuffled and snorted his way to his bedroom to change his clothes; he hadn’t actually noticed that Katsuki was also home. Not till his voice jump-scared him from Izuku’s doorway.
“Ey there, dumbass.” Izuku jolted a little; the short, little startled gasp caused him to cough painfully.
Katsuki cringed at the noise.
“You sound like shit,” He commented. Izuku composed himself and snorted thickly, much too stuffed up for it to clear his nose at all.
“Ugh, sorry, did you wadt sobethig. Kaachad?” Katsuki stared at him for a moment with a ‘wtf’ look on his face.
“Well, I want you to blow your fucking nose cause I can barely understand ya. How the fuck did you last a whole day sounding like that?” Izuku rolled his eyes as he unbuttoned his top, peeled it off, and slid out of his dress pants.
“I didn’t sound that bad,” He retorted. Katsuki didn’t buy it for a second and turned around.
“I’ll make you some tea, blow your nose, take some medicine, and get your sick ass either in bed or on the couch,” Izuku mumbled just loud enough to be heard.
“Bossy bastard”
“What?” Katsuki called out.
“Dnothing!” Izuku yelled back, only to be shut up by his obviously sore throat. He grabbed a zip-up hoodie and went into the bathroom to grab some medicine. As he rifled through the cabinets, a dull tickle formed in the back of his nose that quickly went to the front. With how congested he was, he hardly had any buildup, so he clenched his teeth to stifle.
“HhG!hhgksscHHHhh! HhNGgsshhuhw! HhNGgkksshhuhw!” Each sneeze made him bob his head and his shoulders tense, but none of them really rid him of the congestion. He gasped and snuffled again, plugging one side at a time in a stupid attempt for some air through his nose.
“Ah, there it is!” Finally, he found the bottle of cold medicine and went to the living room after he picked up a couple of blankets. Once he plopped down on the couch, Katsuki came over with a mug of tea and pressed a palm to Izuku’s forehead.
“You’re a lil warm. I can’t believe you went to class with that cold.” Izuku shrugged as he sipped on his tea, the warmth and honey soothing his throat.
“I didn’t feel too bad this bmordig.” Katsuki shook his head.
“I don’t fucking believe you when you sound like that.”
“I sound worse thad I feel, I probmise.” Izuku knew he truly wasn’t that convincing. Katsuki started to look around for something.
“What are you looking for?” Izuku asked.
“Tissues, I told you to bring them with you.” Katsuki reminded him. Izuku snorted and took another swig of his drink.
“I’mb too stuffed up it wont work adyways.” Katsuki sighed, got up from the couch, and stomped towards Izuku’s bedroom, then came back with the box of tissues.
“Finish your drink, then I’m getting this shit out of you, today!” Izuku had no clue what he meant by that, and figured Katsuki was bluffing. Katsuki never bluffed, he knew that. One thing he knew for certain: the steam from the tea did get some of that congestion moving, but Izuku had the horrible habit of constantly snorting it back. Doing so made his sinuses fill back up with that awful sludge, it burned and gave him a headache, and the pressure was awful!
As soon as he set the nearly empty cup down, he figured he could escape whatever Katsuki’s plan was with the excuse of.
“I need to grade papers.” But as soon as he tried to get off the couch, Katsuki yanked him back down.
“Oh no you fucking don’t!” Izuku yelped as he plopped back onto the couch and was quickly pinned down by Katsuki. He put his hands on the blond’s shoulders to keep some distance.
“What are you doig?” Katsuki planted the tissue box beside them and smirked.
“I said I was gonna get that cold out of you today, didn’t I?” Izuku blushed hard and tried to turn his head away as he whined.
“I dodn’t wadda get you sigk, and its godda be gross.” Katsuki mocked his whiny voice and grabbed his face.
“Its either be gross or you get a sinus infection, and I know you. You’re gonna be much worse with that sinus infection. And your germs don’t scare me.” He used his other hand to massage at Izuku’s sinuses. Izuku scrunched up his face on reflex as he felt all that stuff start to move down his nose. His nostrils-which were already red- flared and tried to sniff back the inevitable. Katsuki kept at it in a slow pace as he worked his hand down Izuku’s nose. Soft squishes and squelches signified he was definitely pushing on the mess. Then Izuku’s breath started to waver and he pushed one of Katsuki’s hands away.
“Fuhh fugk tiihh tickles!” He warned, his eyes squinted as the tickle got stronger and stronger and stronger, then- right as he gasped- it left him high and dry. Well, there were some tears in the outer corners of his eyes. He sighed, defeated, and tried to sniffle again, but nothing could get through
“Fuuughk!” He groaned with slumped shoulders and a dry cough at the end.
A snicker slipped out of Katsuki’s lips as he rolled the tissue he had in hand into a point.
“Knew ya couldn’t do it yourself. C’mon nerd, don’t hold back on me now.” He inserted it carefully into one of Izuku’s nostrils that immediately flared to life upon contact. Katsuki’s hand was just beneath Izuku’s nose as he swished the tissue’s point around blindly. Then it brushed a spot that ignited the tickle all over again, this time much stronger. Izuku grabbed Katsuki’s wrist and instructed him in a desperate voice.
“Rihh right right therhhh hhhuh! Huh! Heh!” Katsuki obeyed the command, but he couldn’t help but tease him just a little.
“So bossy and needy you are~” His motion paused for only a few seconds, but that was just as torturous as losing the sneeze.
“Dod’t stuhh huhhstooohhb” Izuku begged as his chest heaved, the sound of his hitches went higher in pitch until finally!
“HH—hngKKSSCHH! HhNGgsshhuhw! HhG!hhgksscHHHhh!! ” Like earlier, they first came out congested as they tried to break through the wall plugging up his head. They were very spray heavy, though, Katsuki’s wrist was already dripping wet. Then-
“Hehh'ESShhTttsshh! Hehh'ESShhTttsshh! Hehh'ESshhTSsHHtt!! Heh! Hheh!! eh!EsschHHeeuhww!!” The real show started. Thin trails of snot shot down to Izuku’s upper lip; one side started to drip down longer than the other. Some ended up on Katsuki’s knuckles, but that didn’t stop him. He slowly circled the tissue against the swollen, angry walls, which drew out the quickest, breathiest hitches Izuku’s body could make before another fit came to spray Katsuki right in his face.
“Hehh huhh!Hehh'ESShhTttsshh! Eh hehhh ehh! EsschHHeeuhww! EsschHHeeuhww! Hehh'ESshhTSsHHtt” This time clouds of spray were followed by thicker lines of snot that melted down Izuku’s flushed face and d covered the top of Katsuki’s hand. Izuku let out a sigh of relief, which made a few snot bubbles that quickly went out and oozed from both his nostrils. He muttered a “that felt better” in his post-sneeze fit haze.
Katsuki chuckled and pulled the tissue away, it was properly ruined, and so was his hand, not like he cared. He nonchalantly licked at the snot on his hand, and that quickly yanked Izuku back to reality. He sat up and tried to stop him.
“Ey wait dod’t do that! Oh gross Kaachad!” It was already too late as he watched Katsuki swallow the mess like it was something else. The way Katsuki looked at him with a devious smirk and lustful eyes made Izuku’s cheek burn hotter than any fever could. With the wall of congestion broken, it was like breaking a dam. So now Izuku’s nose was a runny mess.
“Fugk it keeps ruhh ruddig oh dnuhh dno!” His nose twitched and dripped as the runniness caused another tickle to start. No matter how much he sniffled, it would just drip right back out and make things worse.
“Kahh kachahhhh huhh hehh! Heh!” Katsuki hummed, raised a brow, and asked all too innocently.
“What is it?” Was he really gonna make him ask? Through those marshy, thick, liquidy sniffles too?
“Come on nerd, just say it~” He teased, oh this bastard knew what he was doing! Izuku knew he didn’t have much of a voice though, it was going to drive him crazy!
“Hehh help bme plehh please” Katsuki all but jumped at the opportunity and traced the pad of his thumb along the wet rims of Izuku’s nose that flared in a frantic in and out. His breaths quickened right before the explosion.
“Hehh ehh! Hehh'ESShhTttsshh! Hehh'ESShhTttsshh! ESShhTttsshh!” The mess that he tried so desperately to keep contained flooded out of his nostrils and made webs all over Katsuki’s hand and kept dripping between his fingers. The blond circled his thumb in a slow tease that drew out a very deep breath and-
“EEesschHHeeuhww!” A thick rivet of snot shot down to Katsuki’s lips, and without missing a beat, he swiped it up with his tongue. Izuku panted softly through parted lips, making the cords of snot sway and bubble. A soft groan rose through Katsuki’s throat as he swallowed what was in his mouth.
“Fuck, your cold tastes so good.” Katsuki then started to lick at the snot on his hand as he continued to comment.
“You made such a big mess. I didn’t think you had it in you, but you really did. Mmmm feels better, doesn’t it?” Izuku couldn’t deny it, it did feel better, especially after holding back all day and dabbing at his nose with cheap tissues that left his nose so red. He gave a small bashful nod, which only made Katsuki’s grin wider. He leaned down and started to lick at the drippage. Izuku, a little surprised, tried to ask, “What are you doig?”
When Katsuki made his way up to Izuku’s nose, Izuku melted into the couch. The wet warmth of Katsuki’s tongue on his sore red nose was so soothing. A little moan escaped, and Izuku’s hands came up to the back of Katsuki’s head and tangled his fingers in the other’s hair, not wanting him to pull away. Izuku’s nostrils quivered and flared open as if inviting Katsuki’s tongue in, and boy, was that an experience. The squirmy, wet appendage swirled and rubbed against the tender, angry insides so gently that it was heavenly. More moans came as Katsuki worked his tongue around; sometimes Izuku’s grip would tighten.
Then Katsuki’s tongue found a spot that brought on another tickle. Izuku gasped and started to build up again. Katsuki hummed a little, and the vibration made that tickle skyrocket immediately.
“EEesschHHeeuhww! EEesschHHeeuhww! Hehh eh! Hehh'ESShhTttsshh!” Whichever nostril Katsuki’s tongue wasn’t in had snot leaking and shooting out much further than the other. He pulled away solely so he could suck and lick on the beads of mess from that side before going back to the other.
“Fuck that really tastes good, c’mon nerd don’t be shy, I know this feels good.” He encouraged. Izuku whimpered breathily as Katsuki’s tongue took another pass through his nose, this time deeper inside. His shoulders jerked as another wave of snot poured from his other nostril and over his lips.
“Hehh'ESShhTttsshh!!” Katsuki kissed him deeply and hungrily, muttering between kisses.
“I want it, I want your cold, give it to me, give it to me.” Izuku finally managed to say through very congested breath.
“I-i dneed to- I dneed to blow so bad.” He really did, just from the sound of his voice and how his nostrils flared without hitching. His poor nose was so full.
Katsuki nodded and Izuku pressed down on one nostril and started to blow thickly and gurgly through the other. Thick ropes oozed and fluttered down his face, and Katsuki didn’t wait a second before sucking on it. The other side was even more productive sounding, with lots of bubbling and crackling, the buzz of it made Izuku sneeze straight at Katsuki’s face again, with the result of two very big ropes of snot ready to drop into his hungry mouth.
Aka the vamp boys seek some guidance for their current predicament. Then get into an entirely different kind of predicament.
N/S/F/W. 18+ 🍆
CW - vampire biting, blood, (no gruesome descriptions) psychic linked sneezing, vampire colds, getting bitten by two sneezy vampires, holdbacks, drool, teeth, general monsterfuckery vibes, goth vibes
Read more about my Vampire OCs here and here
Nathaniel was so sick he could cry. In fact, he'd been crying all morning while Quintus was away. Or that evening, rather. He still wasn't used to his new nocturnal schedule.
The most recent place of habitation was a giant furniture store. It was a bit of a challenge to be let in initially, the salesperson was confused as to why a pair of suspicious-looking customers needed permission to enter a store. According to Quintus, places like this were not great to stay for long. It was by the goodwill of a manager who knew of Quintus's nature that they could stay for a week. But one week only. And no feeding on company property.
"Hhheh—"
Languishing on the showroom couch, Nathaniel grabbed for another swath of tissues and cringed with a tired "-Eh'ishhhieew!!"
He could hear Quintus sneeze somewhere in the distance. It echoed loudly through the furniture store.
"Sorry!" Nathaniel called out weakly and blew his nose. Every night, he felt weaker, more foggy, and unfocused. It was just two nights ago when it became intolerable to walk. The hunger didn't make things easier. If he could even call it that. He grew up poor and hungry, but he still never knew how empty someone could feel. It was like life itself was slowly dripping out of him.
Life wasn't the only thing dripping out of him. He gave his nose another blow, wincing at the squelching noise he made. The cold, if he could even call it that by this point, had only grown worse.
"—You know, if you just ate something, maybe you'd feel a little better," Quintus growled. He seemed to dissolve out of the darkness as he approached, red eyes glimmering.
Nathaniel sighed. They've been over this argument before. Quintus sat on a nearby recliner, kicking up his feet on a glass coffee table. They sat in bitter silence for a while, with only a sniffle between them. The artificial hum of the furniture store droned, and the small light of the security camera flicked on and off, capturing nothing. No vampiric intruders detected.
Nathaniel was nearly ready to swoon from the pure exhaustion of breathing when Quintus spoke up.
"What if… someone let you feed off of 'em? Would that make it better?"
"What do you mean'd?" Nathaniel coughed roughly into his fist. It was getting harder to breathe, day by day, and not just due to congestion.
"If someone offered themselves to you, like if there was someone out there who was totally fine with you taking a bite out of 'em like a sandwich. Would you eat then?"
"—I hardly think there's anyone like that."
"Oh, there is. She's uh- kind of pissed at me right now, but there is."
"Who in their right mind would want a vampire to feast on them?"
——————————-
The horsefly that'd been haunting the Slaughtered Goat all day rested on the antique table, rubbing its legs together. It was made to move when it finally met its demise by way of a well-timed slap of a rolled-up magazine.
"Gotcha, you little bastard."
A fat ginger cat stretched out languidly on the bookshelf, chirping at the sound of his owner.
"Don't worry, Buddy, that fly's all gone."
Joan turned up the sound on the dilapidated TV that hung precariously in the corner of the storeroom. The would-be customers up front were getting loud and interrupting the shark documentary she'd been engrossed in for the last half-hour. A gaggle of teenagers waxed on importantly over pre-packaged jars of crystals, self-serious experts on all things magic.
All things bullshit, actually. The front of the store was for tourists. Bottles of potions that consisted of glitter and colored water. Resin skulls, bright red candles crafted by Joan's sweet elderly neighbor. Whatever looked mystical enough to make a customer pay up. Whatever kept Joan's family home from being bulldozed into a parking lot.
She was lucky she still had the house, as annoying as it was to convert it into a novelty store. At least she had a place for the real stuff. The secret texts, the iron basin. The real magic. That wasn't for sale, that was her inheritance. The house and the secrets within.
If only those secrets could pay the bills.
"I know you're stealing." She didn't look away from the TV. Grainy images of sharks gliding through the water kept her attention. "Drop it."
A young girl jumped at her raspy voice and quickly put the crystal she pocketed back into the kitschy barrel. Joan lit a cigarette and breathed in.
"Try that again, and I'll turn you and your friends into toads, got it?"
She wasn't going to turn them into toads. Magic didn't work that way, and even if it did, she wouldn't want a bunch of toads all over the place. But the empty threat was enough to send the kids scurrying away. They'd definitely be back, and not just for the candles. Joan played up the idea of a witch. She kept her customer service medium-to-terrible, as was expected of someone who owned a store called The Slaughtered Goat. Anything to keep up appearances.
She chose not to wear a pointy hat, though. Very overdone.
Closing and locking the front door, she flicked off the neon "Open" sign. It was dark out, and she was ready to call it a night. She loosened the corset on her kitschy Halloween dress and returned to the desk, tuning into the drama of the marine documentary.
On screen, sharks swam through a cloud of bloody water, their eyes rolling back in a frenzy. The footage was intercut with scientists talking about the unique capabilities of sharks. Their sensitive noses are a bundle of nerves, attuned to hunting in the ocean. Wild stuff. Predatory animals always fascinated her the most.
There was a rapid knock on the door. Joan grimaced at the disturbance.
"We're closed!" She called out, turning up the TV volume. Ocean water splashed and gargled out of the weak speakers as the sharks were whipped up into a frenzy.
The knocking persisted.
Joan sighed and walked to the door.
"I said, we're closed.."
Quintus stood at the doorstep, grinning like a bear-trap. As always.
"Hey Joan, been a while—wait!"
She kept a wreath of dried garlic by the door, not just for looks. She grabbed one after another and began flinging them at Quintus like a barrage of grenades.
"Fuck—off!—QUINT!"
He cowered from the pelting, each clove hitting with a sizzle and poof of fire. Covering his head, he backed away as the onslaught continued.
"Will you—OW!!—Will you—achk—Fuck—hold on!!"
"You're not borrowing Mama's book! I TOLD you!"
A bulb of garlic bounced off Quintus's cheek, singeing the skin.
"I'm not here for the damn book!" He fell to his knees, covering his head. Truly, out of all the vampires she encountered over the years, he was the most pitiable. The smiling ghoul in the dark, without memory, without a home. Powerful, sure, but pathetic. And owed her $48.95.
"Then why are you… "
Joan lowered another garlic bulb as she caught a glimpse of someone crouching in the bushes, someone tall and looking for all the world like he was about to—
"Ah—AHD'CHHHOH!!"
Quintus's head bobbed as he sneezed into the dirt. The man in the bushes seemingly mimicked him with a sneeze of his own, though his was kept to a silent cringe in a furl of tissues.
She'd never seen a vampire sneeze before.
Fascinating.
"…Geshundeit, Quint." She peered into the darkness, she could see the tall one's eyes glow in the night. Bright and grey like the moon, a contrast to the red glow of Quintus's eyes.
"I see you, you know. Who are you?"
"—That's—snfff—Nathaniel. He's uh, he's new."
Nathaniel approached, sheepish and worrying at the little cluster of tissues between his fingertips. He looked forlorn, with big brown eyes and a mouth permanently tugged downwards. The vampire seemed to be weak and swayed where he stood.
"Hello there, it's really wonderful to meet you. " He smiled sadly and stuck his hand out for a shake. His greeting seemed stiff and polite to a fault. Practiced. Perhaps he spent his human years greeting people. A receptionist? Customer service?
She knew not to take the hands of vampires.
"I can't say I like seeing more than one vampire on my doorstep." She breathed smoke into the air, "Quint, is he a spawn?"
"Yea, obviously."
"Is he your spawn?"
Quintus uncurled from his stooped position on the floor, quickly rubbing at the underside of his nose. He looked as guilty as a dog after vomiting on a new rug.
"Well…yea."
"I thought you said you never wanted to make one." Joan leaned against the side of the doorframe, eyeing Nathaniel. He didn't seem like the kind of person Quintus would be interested in turning. Wholesomeness oozed out of him, as thick as the cold he seemed to have.
"It was just an accident, okay? Anyway, we got an emergency here. Can you please let us in? Come on…it's going to rain, and this guy's sick as it is."
"You don't look so great yourself. I didn't know vampires could pass colds around."
"It's—snfff—hhh—it's a—ah—." Nathaniel brought his bundle of tissues quickly up to his nose, at the mercy of a sudden tickle. Curiously, Quintus's breath hitched as well, and he brought a finger to his upper lip in a cartoonish attempt to ward off a tickle they both seemed to struggle with.
"Hiihpp—eehh—It's Nate—heeh—making me—heeehh—HEHD'CHOOHH!!—Goddamnit!" Quintus sneezed, uncovered and angry.
And the spawn followed after. A watery, exhausted—
"Ah'FHshiew!!"
Joan looked from one vampire to the other, eyebrows raised.
"Fascinating."
She mentally kicked herself, knowing that letting Quintus into her house (and life) would always inevitably lead to trouble. But she just couldn't help it. She was curious.
Behind her, the TV crackled with sharks. A scientific display of the creature's nervous system lit the store in electric blue light.
"Oh, what the hell. Come in, both of you."
—————————————-
"Don't touch anything."
She led the pair down the hidden staircase at the back of the store. For being supposed ethereal shadows of the night, they were both so loud. The newer one, Nathaniel, couldn't seem to go one breath before sniffling or coughing. And whenever he sniffled, it bothered Quintus too. He'd snort and rub away at his nose, jabbing Nathaniel in the arm to stop his incessant sniveling. She couldn't help but be amused by Quintus's predicament. He'd always been one of the more dangerous vampires she'd encountered. Not suave or conventionally handsome, but disarmingly charming in the way a feral dog is. You feel bad, you pity it. You stick your hand out too close, only to get bitten.
And now he had his paw in some hilariously ineffectual trap, and he had to turn to her for help. Because of course he did.
"Sorry, it's kind of messy down here. Been running out of space."
Three more ginger cats, sisters of the enormous Buddy, scampered away from their hiding places amongst the crates lining the dark, murky hallway. They left a cloud of dust and fur in their wake. It made Nathaniel's dark eyes flutter.
"It's—snff-hhh—" Nathaniel's nose wrinkled in an irritated scrunch, and he fumbled with another packet of tissues, hurriedly opening it.
"Shhiihht—AHD'PTSHOOH!!" Quintus snapped forward with a harsh sneeze, one that the spawn seemed to start up for him.
"—T'CHIEww!!—snff-snff—it's alright."
Nathaniel's legs suddenly buckled, and he slumped to the floor. Joan quickly grabbed him before he could hit the ground.
"Whoa, there, you alright?" She pulled the man to his feet and slid an arm over her shoulder. Quintus did the same, the pair supporting the vampire on either side of his weak frame. He was tall, but worryingly light, and as cold as a corpse.
"Idiot won't eat. Hasn't since I turned him." Quintus growled.
"Is that why he's so sick? He looks like shit."
"You know how it is. Starve a cold…"
They dragged Nathaniel's limp form down the impossibly long and impossibly wide hallway, its geometries bending as they went. Innumerable artifacts of magic, real magic, were stacked precariously high. Joan had nowhere else to store them and no use for them.
A great standing iron-maiden of glass stood at the entrance of her underground home. The blurry figure of a mummified body curled inside. Or perhaps, it wasn't a body, but a mass of indescribable tentacles and oil. Or perhaps, there was nothing at all.
"Heya, Ma'am." Quintus bowed his head, smiling toothily. "Sorry 'bout trying to steal your book and all. I swear I'll never touch it again."
"Mama can't hear you right now," Joan grumbled as she unlocked the door. "She's in outer darkness."
"Oh. Ah."
Joan shoved the door open with her foot, and two more ginger cats sprinted out of the room. Together, Joan and Quintus swung Nathaniel onto the bed. Another ginger cat emerged from under the covers with a sleepy chirp and darted away.
"So let me guess, you both want to feed off me tonight. Right?" Joan sighed, kicking her boots off and crushing the end of her dying cigarette against a nearby deer skull.
"If he can wake up, yeah? He refuses to hunt the living."
Joan examined Nathaniel, catching a glimpse of the scar around his neck.
"What did this guy do before you bit him?"
Quintus looked bashful, like he was caught. He shrugged and murmured a quick "I dunno."
"Whatever. Just give me a minute, and we'll get something in him."
"And, maybe I could—I mean, seein' as you are—"
Joan rolled her eyes and sighed.
"Fiiine. You can eat too. But just tonight! I'm not a blood bag."
She retreated to the bathroom to get ready. Normally, she wouldn't leave vampires alone in her "lair", but neither one seemed to be up to do any snooping or mischief. The one called Nathaniel was clearly weak, and he was dragging Quintus down with him.
Carefully, she pulled the seal out from the back of her neck and prayed to the outer darkness. The blood in her veins coiled and relaxed. It felt nice, just like kicking off a pair of boots. Under the boudoir was a coil of rope piled in a shoebox. She had it just for these occasions.
"AH'CHHSHH!!"
"—HF'shhiew—"
Sounds like Nathaniel was awake.
"Alright, you two. You have thirty minutes' worth of dinner. Anymore than that and I'll tear both of your heads off." She reemerged from the bathroom and pointed at the hands of the old grandfather clock in the corner.
Nathaniel sat at the edge of the bed, nearly folded in on himself. He looked up at her, bleary and shy, a bundle of tissues in his fist.
"…will this hurt you? I don't want to, if it will…" Nathaniel sniffled.
Quintus rolled his eyes and groaned.
"I told you it won't! She aint human. I mean, she sort of is, but she's not—"
"Neither one of you can hurt me. You'll just be draining my pipes." She sat between them, and uncoiled the rope in her hands. "But just in case, I'm using this."
"Ah come on, you can trust us…"
"Rules are rules. No rope, no food."
Despite his grumbling, he obediently put his hands behind his back, letting Joan tie his wrists together in a knot. She did the same to Nathaniel, who blinked shyly up at her. She had to admit, he was a rather sweet-looking man, for a vampire. Once he learned how to hunt, she could see him being dangerously adept at charming people.
Vampires properly bound, she leaned back on her hands, the bed squeaking with the movement.
"What'll it be then, Neck or wrist?"
Nathaniel dumbstruck. He sniffled and Uhhm'd for a bit, finally pointing timidly to her wrist.
"And I guess you want the neck again, right Quint?" She rolled her eyes and pushed her hair to the side.
Quintus's eyes glowed, his teeth already sharp.
"Yes! Oh darlin', I'm so hungry I haven't had a meal in weeks—"
"Oh my god, wipe your mouth at least, Quint."
"Sorry, sorry." He wiped at his mouth with the back of his bound hands, drooling already.
Joan gave him a nod, and Quint eagerly bit into the soft flesh of her neck.
It didn't hurt. Joan had never felt pain, being a child of the outer darkness. She felt the fangs and the pressure, the warmth of his mouth. The built-up energy within her finally eased out between his lips. She sighed in relief, as if she was being massaged rather than feasted on. Quintus was annoying, but he did have a way with this sort of thing. After a boring day in the shop, it was nice to drain out.
Nathaniel froze. She watched him staring at her wrist like he was looking at a dirty magazine for the first time. Scandalized.
"Mmm-Hey. It's alright. I don't feel a thing."
Not entirely true. She shivered as Quintus's tongue lathed up the side of her neck, and she leaned into his touch. She felt many things. None of it pain.
Timidly, Nathaniel pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist, soft as a kiss. She could feel his labored, stuffy breathing against her skin as he finally opened his mouth and bit in. The sensation buzzed and tickled up her arm, the melange of teeth and tongues sent her off into a wonderful daze as all the nightmares in her blood were drained away, a letting much needed.
She felt Nathaniel hesitate, his teeth retracted. He paused, jaw slack and glowing eyes unfocused. And then Quintus began to sniffle. She could feel his nose pressed up against the skin of her neck flare wide, and he pulled away.
"Snnff—Damnit Nate.." He wiggled his nose back and forth, scrunching up his face. "Just let me—hhh—eat!"
"S-sorry—heehh"
Nathaniel was clearly going to sneeze. Blood dripped off his chin as the sloped bridge of his nose furrowed.
Fascinating.
Joan slowly turned her wrist around and pressed the back of her hand under Nathaniel's mouth. She pushed up, just enough to feel the soft end of Nathaniel's nose bend. He huffed against her knuckles, his long eyelashes fluttered with the threatening sneeze.
"Hipbht—"
At her side, Quintus's face crumpled, lips pulled back in a sneezy grimace. His nostrils, expressive even when not in the middle of a sneeze, were fully dilated, hungry to suck in air for what was sure to be a messy, spluttering release.
"You have an interesting link. Is sneezing the only thing you share?"
She smirked. She knew neither one could properly answer as they panted and hitched on the precipice. But it was fun to watch a pair of dangerous, otherworldly monsters barely manage to think straight. Joan thought of the sharks and all those nerve endings in their noses. She wondered how much this tickled them, how she'd be able to drive a stake through both their hearts right now if she wanted to.
I was Nathaniel who managed to talk first. She gave his dripping nose a rub with the back of her hand, the friction was just enough to scare the sneeze away. His breath shuddered against her hand as he sighed.
"hhhhehhg—We don'd—snfff—d'know.."
Quintus got a final pant in, and a rather ridiculously sounding "AH'GYEEH—" of a half-sneeze before the reaction was snatched away from him. He growled, roughly rubbing his nose against the meat of his arm, being driven mad by the itch.
"We were hoping—snfff—You could help us out with this.." He warbled.
Joan could feel her wounds healing fast, as they usually did. She cracked her neck back and forth, eyeing the pair of them.
"I might, I might not. I'll have to run some tests on both of you first. Do you mind?"
Nathaniel looked up at her, innocently.
"Will it hurt?"
Joan smiled. Nate really was sweet. She could see why Quintus turned him.
"Not at all. Unless you think feathers are painful."
So I read this book that @friv0lite recommended (it was cute! Thank you!) and there is one line in it that I can't get over:
“Poking and prodding and bloodletting, followed by medicines that make me too weak to even sneeze properly..."
And since then, the idea of a sick man who is "too weak to even sneeze properly" has been driving me absolutely crazy. (Bloodletting optional.)
He probably has delicate sneezes at the best of times. The tickle in his nose seems fierce enough to overwhelm him, but also so light that it takes an age and an effort to become strong enough to trigger the much-needed release. And when the sneezes come they are fragile, breathy things - both requiring repetition to offer him any relief, and apt to collapse at their height into a shuddering, unsatisfied sigh.
But it's a hundred times worse when he's sick. His head colds come with low, lingering fevers that sap his body of all energy. It's all he can do to lie supine in bed, under bedclothes that now feel like they have been lined with lead. The cold exhausts him but there's no hope of restful sleep, because it's also inflamed every membrane in his head beyond belief. His eyes burn and the lids betray where he's rubbed them in frustration by turning an angry red. His sinuses swell, throbbing beneath his cheeks like they've been stuffed with cotton. His throat is so sore that he can barely swallow the hot, sweet tea at his bedside.
But his nose is the bane of his existence.
The cold is sitting high in his sinuses, almost exactly between his eyes, as both painful pressure and an incessant itching. He's always on the verge of a sneeze, and yet his body doesn't seem to be able to summon the strength to do it. However deliberately he breathes, however much he rubs and pinches his nose, the sneezy feeling neither swells nor retreats. It's all he can do to snatch fluttering, shivering gasps, and submit himself to cycles of hitches that bring tears to his eyes. And then finally when the tickle triggers a sneeze, it's only a soft little "hhhk'sshhhhue!" that brings him no relief at all.
Poor thing is just desperate to sneeze properly, for a sneeze that's as heavy as his cold feels. A good strong sneeze that might help shake the cold from his head, or at least stop his nose from tickling so. But he just doesn't have it in him.
not to be actually really horny but. someone whos been fighting a horrible, exhausting head cold and comes home and moans loudly with misery. it's stuffy and heavy and miserable-sounding. and it's just as stuffy when their partner picks them up off the couch later that night and carries them to the bedroom as they moan softly with want-- they feel so sick, they need someone to ease up all the congestion. their partner lays them gently in bed and they moan again their low, stuffy, hoarse moan as their partner pulls down their pajama pants and underwear, and then they moan again its softer but just as plugged up as their partner gently, lovingly massages their aching, throbbing clit/dick, and they moan and sneeze loudly and groan and rub their red nostrils and moan as their partner rubs a little firmer.
"That's quite the cold," their partner says, and teases their hole. they moan softly again with desire, then let out another hot, wet, spraying sneeze, their nostrils flaring, their lips chapped.
"I dodd feel well ad all," says the sickie with a snuffle, and then they gasp through their chapped lips and swollen, red throat and their partner gently starts to finger them, rubbing at the same time. they feel so full all of a sudden, like they need to burst, it feels like its all theyve been trying to do for the past few days since they got sick.
"Poor baby," says their partner, easing in and out slowly, comfortably. "You sound terrible. Just let me take care of you. Maybe you'll finally be able to get some sleep."
Another moan from the sickie, higher and yearning but still plugged with snot. They sniffle thickly. this cold has wrecked their sleep for the past three nights, replacing it with restless, stuffy snores and snorts and frequent awakenings where they sneeze and huff and cough and snort as they lay awake in the dark, breathing through their mouth. their partner knows because they've been sleeping near them the whole time. they're so stuffed and so tired and achy and sick.
their partner goes faster as they relax against the pillows and let them. they moan again, a soft, stuffed up moan laced with the beginnings of laryngitis, and then they moan again with pleasure, and then they let out a loud, hoarse, cracking groan of exertion as they cum, then sigh as they relax against the bedsheets, breathing hard.
their partner redresses their underwear and pajama pants and kisses their forehead. "you better take it easy with this bug," their partner says. "it sounds like you're losing your voice to all that moaning."
the sickie's sinuses are now a little unstuffed from the exertion, and they close their eyes and cough. "I thigg...I thigg I did..." they whisper. their voice is shot and crackling with exertion, but theyre satisfied and sleepy now, even if their throat suddenly feels worse than before.
"Oh, honey," their partner says. "okay, no more talking. you better get some rest to fight this thing."
their partner leaves them to sleep with the blankets pulled up to their chin and a cool ice pack pressed against their forehead. they do, indeed, get some sleep-- the first they get while this cold rages, full of stuffy snores that further hurt their voice box-- but in the morning their voice is officially nowhere to be found, and their partner makes them stay sick in bed. they really, truly don't feel well.
"your nose looks so itchy, baby. you gonna sneeze? yeah, that's it, let it all out, sweetheart. bless you! you're so full of sneezes, aren't you? goodness! you all done? yeah? here, let's get you cleaned up. can you blow for me, angel? good, good job, you're doing so good, love. feel a bit better? your nose must be so sore, it's all red and chapped, poor baby. do you want me to put some vaseline on it? yah? would that help? ok. c'mon, honey. let's go tend to that nose of yours, then get you back in bed. can we cuddle? of course. you can fall asleep on my chest and i'll play with your hair, would you like that? hm? yes, i'll bring the tissues, it doesn't sound like your nose is gonna let up anytime soon."
We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming for a 3.3k word SWH scenario with some stuck, getting-sick sneezes from Rio. Agatha can’t decide if she’s annoyed or aroused. There’s a hint of photic at the end, as a treat.
I just want to point out how much Rio teases Agatha for being sensitive when… um… well… 🙃
Inspired by a prompt @moonlitkit from @reydeyflummyx759z’s emoji prompt game. 🤬Make Up Your Mind! + 🙊Stay Still, Stay Silent
I plan on filling the other prompts eventually. I currently write two sentences a week so it could take up to 3-5 business months. 😭
Warning: mess 💦
***
“One… two… three…”
Nicky stood in the center of the living room, fingers splayed over his eyes as he began to count. Agatha could tell that he was peeking, but she kept her mouth shut. In a way, she was proud of him for cheating. He was always such a stickler for the rules, more with himself than with others, that she felt he deserved to break them every now and then.
When he got to four she hurried down the hallway, trying to figure out her next easy-but-not-too-easy hiding spot. In her haste she nearly collided with Rio, who skittered around her and into the bathroom with a passing apology. The shower curtains ruffled noisily as she threw them aside.
“Five, six, seveneightnine—”
“Hey!” Agatha called over her shoulder. She was okay with a little cheating, but now he was pushing it. “Slow down there, jackrabbit.”
“We’re ndot as fast as you,” Rio added, the words echoing slightly.
The tiled space also amplified the dull, congested edge her voice had taken on over the course of the day. Agatha wasn’t even sure if Rio had noticed it herself — she wasn’t the most self-aware when it came to getting sick. If she ever denied feeling unwell, it wasn’t due to shame (as if Rio even had the capacity for such an emotion), but what seemed to be a genuine disconnect between her brain and the rest of her body. It usually wasn’t until days into the illness, when her symptoms reached a level of severity and frequency that was undeniably viral, that she seemed to put two and two together — if Agatha didn’t already spoil the plot for her.
“Sorry,” Nicky said sheepishly. “One…” He waited about three seconds before continuing on to the next number. “Twooooo…”
We’re not that slow, thought Agatha, but whatever, it gave her an advantage. An advantage she used to… jump into the hallway closet? It wasn’t the most creative choice, but their small, two-bedroom apartment didn’t provide many opportunities for innovation. Not like her childhood home with its endless possibilities, some so obscure that she could — and often did — tuck herself away for days unnoticed. The solitude was exhilarating, freeing, and always worth the inevitable consequences.
“Eight… nine…”
Agatha hunkered down, backing up a bit to hide in the coats like a child in a department store. Except she wasn’t a child, as her joints liked to remind her whenever she did just about anything. They twinged in protest as she settled into an awkward stance.
“Nine and a half… nine and three quarters…
Reassessing her physical capabilities, she lowered herself into a sitting position to spare her ankles the stress. She heard footfalls and saw shadows pass by under the door.
“Ten! Ready or not…”
“Espera!” Rio called from somewhere down the hallway, sounding flustered. Sometimes she hopped between spots in a strategic effort to throw Nicky off her trail, but most of the time she was just indecisive. “Otra vez, en español.
“Está bien,” Nicky obliged, always eager to show off his Spanish. “Uno… dos… tres…”
Agatha let out a squawk as the closet door swung open. At first she wondered how he got there so quickly, but the figure partially silhouetted by the hallway light was too tall to be Nicky. It was Rio who peered down at her, dumbfounded, as if she wasn’t sure what she was looking at. Agatha stared back up at her, just as confounded, before gesturing for her to hurry up and make a decision.
“In or out, in or out?” she asked, hands wheeling frantically.
“Siete… ocho…”
“Shit,” was all Rio said, before scuttling into the closet — much to Agatha’s chagrin, though she supposed it was her fault for giving her a choice — and closing the door quickly but quietly behind her.
“Sorry.” She crouched down next to her, her body and her scent filling her space. Agatha relaxed a little as she breathed her in. Maybe sharing a space wasn’t such a bad idea. “I panicked.”
Before she could reply, Nicky made his announcement from the living room: “Ready or not, aquí voy!”
“I love his Spanglish,” Rio gushed, her voice only slightly muffled by the coats surrounding them.
“Yes, adorable,” Agatha agreed, because it was, before putting a finger to her lips. “Now shh. This is officially a ‘no more talking’ zone, entiendes?”
Biting back the urge to gush over Agatha’s Spanglish as well, Rio instead pretended to lock up her own lips and toss the key over her shoulder. For a moment, Agatha thought she might actually stay quiet for more than a few seconds.
The excited pitter patter of small feet filled the apartment. Agatha watched under the door for movement, even though it sounded like Nicky was still in the living room. She felt Rio staring at the side of her face, like she was patiently waiting for her attention. As much as she tried to ignore her, it felt like denying the urge to scratch at a really annoying itch. Sure enough, when Agatha glanced her way, Rio smirked and said “Hey.”
Having already made it clear there was to be no more talking, Agatha didn’t humor her with a verbal response. She raised her eyebrows emphatically, intending to silently convey her irritation, but Rio chose to interpret the gesture as permission to continue speaking.
“Did you ever think we’d be back here?” Her grin widened when Agatha stared back, confusion bleeding into her annoyance. “In the closet?”
Agatha rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stop her lips from curving into a smile. Rio chuckled, clearly pleased with the response, though she was less pleased when she turned and got a face full of cashmere. The sleeve of the coat dangled menacingly like boa constrictor hanging from a tree branch, grazing across the bridge of her nose. Sputtering, she swiped it out of the way before pushing out uselessly against all of the coats that were crowding her. In the faint light that spilled through the space under the door, Agatha could see her scrunching and wiggling her nose around, as if it were starting to bother her.
“You okay?” she asked, reluctantly breaking her own rules.
“Mhmm,” Rio hummed, though she didn’t sound or look too certain.
“Are you sure?”
Rio shook her head slowly, though the gesture seemed more reflexive than an attempt to communicate. Her nostrils twitched once before rounding out in an impressive flare. They remained frozen, two slightly quivering, imperfect circles, until the sound of feet pounding down the hallway distracted her. Both women switched their attention to the bar of light under the door, Rio bolstering the reddening tip of her nose with her fist as she hunched forward. Ripples of discomfort fluttered across her face, the irritation tugging at her features in a manner that was gentle but persistent. With a soft gasp she leaned into Agatha, who snaked an arm around her instinctively.
“Shhh…” she warned.
A shadow charged through the light beneath the door, there one second and gone the next, like a ghostly subway train speeding past a darkened platform. Moments later the door to the master bedroom opened with a creak, just as Rio shuddered with another involuntary breath.
“Mami? Mama?” Nicky sounded giddy but hesitant, as if he expected one of them to jump out at him the moment he stepped into their room. Rio often did, per his request, when they played hide and seek. Little weirdo liked being scared. “Are you in here?”
For some reason she lowered her hand, though it was obvious she still had to sneeze. Rio had never quite developed the habit of covering her mouth — seemed to actively avoid it, in fact, as if lifting her arm and holding it in place until she finished sneezing was more effort than she could ever be expected to sustain. Without her fist serving as a buffer, Agatha could feel her neck growing hotter with each desperate, panting breath. They reminded her too much of something else, a realization that had her blushing as she pressed a hand over Rio’s mouth, suddenly desperate to muffle the sound.
Rio grabbed ahold of her other hand and squeezed it in urgent pulses, as if sending out an SOS in Morse code. If it was a warning, it was entirely unnecessary — Agatha could already feel it in the pre-sneeze breaths that battered her palm like stormy gusts against a windowpane. She clamped her hand tighter around Rio’s mouth and nose, the tip of which was now squished against the base of her thumb.
“Get a grip,” Agatha hissed. She didn’t care that much about winning the game anymore, but she was curious to see how hard Rio would fight to keep from sneezing if she thought that was what Agatha wanted. “He’s going to hear you.”
Rio nodded, using a hand to hold Agatha’s in place as she rubbed her nose against her palm, but her breath was an energetic, untrained dog, and she was quickly losing her grip on the leash. Agatha could feel the pull of air towards her nostrils as her ribcage expanded, pressing against her arm and side as her lungs filled with air. All of this from some coat sleeve brushing against her nose… since when was she so sensitive? It was another piece of evidence that supported what Agatha already knew — Rio was getting sick.
She was torn between teasing her about it and chewing her out for not being more careful. Why was her wife incapable of leaving the house without bringing something back home, be it a virus, some random trash she thought looked neat, or a plant or creature in need of rehabilitation? Ultimately Agatha decided against speaking altogether, not wanting to add to the noise — Rio would be making plenty soon enough.
Or maybe not. After several seconds of tense discomfort she deflated in stages, leaning into Agatha with a shaky sigh that ruffled the ends of her hair. Pressing her nose into her shoulder, Rio rubbed it back and forth against the bony part with abandon. Her helpless breaths swept across her arm, making the hairs stand on end.
“It tiihhh… tih-h’iHHhih-ckles so bad, but it w-wote — h’HUH!…” Rio went rigid before relaxing just slightly, regaining control of her breathing for just long enough to sniff back the leaking congestion. “Id wode cuhh’b out…”
“Good,” Agatha said bluntly. “Keep it in there.”
“Aggieee,” she whimpered, then hitched, so adorably frustrated that Agatha nearly crumbled into bits like those stupid granola bars Rio liked to buy for Nicky.
“What do you want me to do?” she asked, adjusting her position to relieve some of the tingling pressure. “Serve it an eviction notice?”
Their bedroom door slammed as Nicky scampered across the hallway to his own room. One of the toys he had lying in his doorway — a dog toy, actually, a thick, rubbery slice of pepperoni pizza that he just had to have when he and Rio went to the pet store for rabbit treats — let out a squeal as he stepped on it. The wail of the squeaker and his subsequent giggles drowned out the sound of Rio’s uneven breaths, but Agatha could still feel them fluttering against her arm. She clapped a hand over her mouth again, smothering the next gasp against her palm.
“If you’re going to sneeze,” Agatha said, “do it now.”
“H-h-heh!-help mbe?” Rio begged, grinding her nose against her hand in a last-ditch effort to soothe the itch.
“How?” Agatha asked, insincerely clueless, even as she began stroking her thumb up and down the length of her nose. On her third pass down she took a detour, tracing a nail lightly over the cusp of her left nostril. Something gave her insides a pleasant little tug at the way both nostrils trembled and widened in response to her touch. “Like this?”
Rio managed a nod before adopting a look so expectant — eyes narrowing into watery slits, tongue hovering between parted lips, expression somehow slack and tense at the same time — that Agatha rushed to readjust her hand. The urge seemed to stall then, leaving them both locked into distinct states of anticipation, before abandoning Rio altogether. Releasing her breath in a frustrated huff, she drew back and scrubbed circles against her nose with the heel of her hand. She sniffled wetly and fixed her wife with a look of betrayal.
“Why’d you stop?” she asked, petulant. “I was so close.”
“Aw, come on, you’re a big girl.” Agatha elbowed her lightly. “You don’t need me to help you sneeze, do you?”
“Ndo,” she replied, retreating into the thicket of coats with another sniffle. “I mbead… I‘d like your h-help, but if you doe — hh! — dote wandt—”
“I do want,” Agatha interrupted, taking one of her hands and lifting it to her lips. She kissed it slowly, watching Rio through her lashes as she melted like butter on hot blacktop, lust and ticklish discomfort competing for dominance over her hazy expression. “Now come here.”
Settling a hand on each cheek, Agatha drew her face closer to hers. Her eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness that she could see the glassiness in her gaze — another telltale sign that some tiny but mighty army was laying siege to her immune system. Rio pushed her cheek into the curve of a hand, her skin humming with heat, and swallowed with a slight wince. Agatha nibbled the inside of her lip, noticing more sickly details the longer she studied her face, and wondered if she should say something.
But then Rio whined softly, turning her face to nudge her crinkling nose against her left hand, and Agatha felt her brain short circuit. Talking could wait — she needed to take care of this first.
Keeping one ear trained on the hallway, she waited until Rio stopped rubbing her nose to lean forward and ease their lips together — slowly, gingerly, as if testing the temperature of a bath before slipping all the way in. Rio closed her eyes and clasped loosely at her wrists, her thumbs pressing into those tender spots where her bloodstream thrummed closest to the surface. She whimpered against her mouth as Agatha kissed her strategically, using her own nose to nudge Rio’s with the goal of coaxing it into action.
It didn’t take long for her breath to catch, forcing their lips to part ways. Her grip on her arms loosened, allowing Agatha to slip her hands free. She returned one to rest against her cheek, guiding her thumb provocatively along the contours of her nose. The other hovered close by, a hummingbird contemplating a flower opening to the sun.
“I — h’HHh!” Rio gasped, nostrils pulsing in time with her hitching breaths. “FuhHh’ck, I’be… heAHH! … h’h-ohh…”
“You’re what?” Agatha asked, even though she knew the answer — she just loved to keep Rio talking when she was on the cusp of a sneeze. Her voice took on a helpless, almost fragile sort of tension, like a supple branch bent to the point of nearly breaking, that drove Agatha absolutely wild.
“I’be…” Rio scrunched her eyes shut as she tried again, her eyebrows bunching together in concentration before drifting up languidly. “‘mbgodda — h-hH’huh! — godda s-sdeeze!”
“Then go ahead and do it, already.” Agatha affected an exasperated tone, as if she truly believed it were that simple and Rio was just choosing to be difficult. “You can’t expect me to wait around all day.”
That wasn’t true, of course — she would wait as long as she needed to — but she didn’t see any harm in speeding things along if she could. She continued tracing circles around her nostrils, her touch feathery light, until Rio turned away with a moan and a tremulous inhale. Layering her hands over her flaring nostrils and gaping mouth, Agatha held them securely in place as her head tilted back.
“AESHHh’oo! hH’ATCHHh!-uh…” Rio’s fingers scrabbled to grip at her Agatha’s arms again, anchoring herself to her as she pitched forward with another forceful “ATSCHhh!—h’huhh…”
As always, her sneezes were immodest, violent, and soaking wet. Even if she just gave away their position, it was worth it — not just to witness, but to actually feel the palpable wave of relief that washed over her just as the last sneeze drenched Agatha’s hands. Rio lingered in its afterglow, a plant basking in a refreshing sunshower, and Agatha was struck with an overwhelming urge to kiss her again, even as her nose ran freely down her lips.
Unfortunately, but unsurprisingly, the reprieve was too brief for a blessing, let alone more kissing. Those three sneezes were nothing to Rio, a trio of tiny kitten claws chiseling away at an itch the size of an elephant. It usually took at least seven good, strong sneezes to satisfy the tickle once it got started, but when she had a cold, she typically had to hit double digits before her body would grant her a modicum of relief. Expression crumpling, she snagged breath after quavering breath before exploding helplessly into Agatha’s waiting hands.
“h’hiHh’AETSCHH! ESHHh’oo! ahHESHHhiew!” Rio shivered, dousing her skin with each shamelessly sloppy release. She sniffled noisily, an impotent attempt to reign in the congestion that was trickling from her nostrils. “Ohh, fuhh’hHUHh’ck mbe…”
God, if only. Had this been five years ago, Agatha would not have hesitated to turn this situation into a proper game of seven minutes in heaven, but they were parents now — they couldn’t be hooking up in the closet while their young son wandered the apartment unsupervised, though the idea taking Rio so spontaneously was distracting enough that Agatha almost missed her gearing up for another round of sneezing. Keeping one hand over her mouth, she rifled blindly through some coat pockets until she found one of the handkerchiefs she had stashed away. She shook it open before capturing Rio’s twitching nose between the folds.
“Give ’em up, buttercup.” Agatha smirked, teasing her nose through the fabric. “I know you’ve got a few more in there.”
“heh’hEHihh… ohh…”
“C’monnn,” she urged, jostling the handkerchief in encouragement. She could hear Nicky sprinting down the hallway, sounding so much heavier than he was. “Don’t get greedy now. You already blew our cover, may as well finish strong.”
“I’be— huhh-hh! g-gohhhda…”
“There you go,” Agatha said, stroking her hair and holding the handkerchief firmly against her nose as her eyes fluttered shut. “You’re close now, my love…”
“huh’ASZCHH!-ue—ahh… eHhhih…” Her chest rose, every muscle in her body clenching as her features crushing together. “hhH’ETSCHH-oo!”
Without warning Rio segued straight into blowing her nose, clapping a hand over Agatha’s to pin them and the handkerchief in place. She snuck out two unexpectedly whispery sneezes mid-blow, camouflaging them among the gurgling rush congestion. By the time she was finished the handkerchief was soaked and her nostrils were noticeably redder.
“Ugh,” Rio exclaimed, just as Nicky flung the door open with a triumphant “Found you guys!” before bouncing away and yelling something about it being his turn to hide. He didn’t look twice at Rio, who looked ten times worse in the full light from the hallway. She glanced up at its warm glow, jaw slack and eyes glistening with tears. They locked into a vacant squint, dark eyelashes fluttering as she drew a long, shaky breath. “hiIHHh-hh’huh… hH’DEHShhiu! EhhTSCHH-oo! hehHISHHh-oo!”
“Bless you!” Agatha said at last.
“Thagks,” Rio said, taking the handkerchief and giving another blow. She shivered from head to toe. “Nng, I thigk I’be cubbig dowd with subthig.”
“Oh?” Agatha asked, smiling to herself. “What makes you say that?”
A is very clingy when they're feeling under the weather and refused to stay in bed resting, despite B's best efforts and what seemed like endless insisting. so, after having gave into A's begging, B caved, and that's how they've ended up with A straddling their lap whilst they work at their desk. A has their head nuzzled into the crook of B's neck, their drippy, sniffly nose, resting on B's shoulder. A has been rubbing their nose against the rough material of B's jumper all morning, which has only proved to further irritate the already sensitive and red appendage. every so often, A muffles a fit of sneezes into B's shoulder and B will rub their back soothingly, offering "bless you"s and tissues from the box on their desk if A's sniffles sound a bit too soupy or after a particularly wet sounding sneeze.
So, I comm'd the amazing @hachiibun and he generously drew me a pic of my current catastrophe Loki, and it's just the CUTEST MOST BESTEST pic, yall. LOOK AT THAT NOSE SCRONCH!!! UNFFF
So I figured, (with Hachii's permission) it'd be a great opportunity to put my masterlist up for all of my Loki/Marvel content. I have small one-shot stories, and a big, convoluted time travel story involving all of the avengers. See the stories below or on my AO3 ACCOUNT HERE!!
Cleaning Up Asgard: TVA AU Loki goes to Asgard to fix a timeline mistake. He runs into Thor who finds out he's sick and demands to help him out.
Curiosity Contaminated the Scientist: Bruce/Tony fic with germaphobe Bruce and sick Tony based on a contagion post. A bit fluffy, a lot snarky.
A Window to Mortality: Agathario drabble where Rio uses mushrooms to enjoy a few sneezes before leaving back to the death realm.
Inconvenient Paws: Sam+Bucky fic wherein Bucky finds a cat and has to push through his allergies to find her a home.
Viral Paradox : A variant is trying to steal the mind stone, so Loki is sent back in time to Ultron era to not only stop it, but also figure out the source of an Asgardian virus making its way through the Avengers team. Multiple Chapters: p1, p2, p3, p4, p5, p6
A Familiar Rapport: Natasha is sick but she doesn't want anyone finding out. That doesn't work out for her though. 🎵This fic is paired with an audiobook.🎵
Scarlet Stifle: After the explosive scene in Civil War, Wanda gets training from Natasha and Clint but an illness makes her powers go haywire.
Paradise of the Architect: Pepper and Tony fight an illness after the events of Infinity War.
