you can call me leaf! im 22, a FAT lesbian, and this is (once again) my horny freak blog 🫶
im not new to snzblr, i was on here a few years ago as dominchoo but idk i grew really uncomfortable with just how much i posted/shared when i was freshly 18 that i nuked it all..
now im mostly just here to share the occasional snzfic that i write :) (currently i am only writing cri/tical ro/le, but im always getting into new fandoms!!)
i probably wont be as active as i was, but if you fuck with lesbians and sneezing and also wizard yaoi you’re in the right place!!
also should prob put here im open to dms from other snz kink folks but forewarning i am so bad at responding!! (and no offense but if youre a cishet man im not interested!)
being pinned down by a butch while she's in the middle of a sneezing fit and she expects you to bless each sneeze even while she's fucking you senseless
please eat enough and drink enough water and get enough sleep. this is so that you have enough energy. because we need you to be writing and drawing porn on the internet
guess whos back with more sneezing wizards... its me! i dont really have much else to say other than this is another in the series of the mutual kink one shots ive been messing with so :) please enjoy es/sek being horny for his sick partner and flirting with magic as he does <3
2.4k, kink! es/sek, sick! cal/eb, wizards being wizards, and me abusing d&d mechanics for my own enjoyment. this is set sometime after c2 but before c3, no spoilers though! (also not edited!)
Essek does not need Caleb's exceptionally sharp sense of time to know that Caleb is late. The sun has long since sunk beneath the horizon of the city, the cats and himself have preened and prepared for rest, and yet Caleb is still shut away in the study, hunched over student work he has been neglecting in favor of aiding Beauregard at the Cobalt Soul. He arrives home late most nights — typically after Essek has already made a meager dinner for himself — comes to bed late, and leaves early in the morning to teach his day of classes. Truly, it feels as though the only time in the last week and a half Essek has been able to even see Caleb is in the scant few hours of the night in which Essek is awake, and Caleb is not.
Perhaps he should not feel as frustrasted as he does with the absence; Caleb has certainly endured much lengthier stretches without so much as a sending from Essek, and he never complained. The circumstances were different, though. They shared a quiet life now, the kind of life Essek had long thought out of his reach. It had taken time — a shorter length than he initially expected, but time nonetheless — and considerable effort on both their parts to embrace what grew between them, and Essek Thelyss is not one to let go of such a hard won reality so easily.
With a huffed sigh, Essek tucks a bookmark into the pages of the book he had been absently reading for the last hour, and withdraws his legs from the warm covers. He makes his way from the bedroom to the study with both cats trailing eagerly at his feet.
Caleb is sat at his desk, three small balls of arcane light hung around his head as he hunches over a pile of papers. He has a warm blue cardigan drawn around his shoulders, and his hair has begun to fall out of its bind at the nape of his neck. The monotonous sound of quill against parchment falters as his breath catches, shoulders rising incrementally in time with each inhale. His left hand comes up to press a sleeve against his nose.
Essek freezes, a pleasant warmth blossoming in his chest alongside a prickly sensation of worry. Caleb is frozen as well, shoulders shuddering slightly as his breath flutters, teasing him for several agonizing seconds. When it proves fruitless, Caleb gives a stuffy sigh and lets his hand fall back to the desktop.
Essek stands in the doorway, arms folded over his chest. That prickling heat expands and presses against his ribs — a strange mixture of frustration and anticipation — forcing him to take another step into the study.
"Has your impeccable internal clock malfunctioned? Or are you simply avoiding me?"
Caleb straightens, surprised, turning abruptly as his quill clatters to the desk. Scampering out from behind Essek, Otto chirps and presses himself against Caleb's left leg eagerly.
"Essek, I'm sorry, I've been—"
"—Busy, I am aware." Caleb's eyes go wide, brows furrowing slightly. He goes to speak but Essek cuts him off again. "With problems of your own making. The cats are very upset with the change in routine."
"Es tut mir leid, Otto, Ingrid." He leans down to run one hand through Otto's thick orange fur, then shoots a gentle smile towards the cat still sitting in the doorway. The other hand swipes at his nose through his sleeve again. "I am nearly done with these papers, then I can come to bed."
Essek approaches the desk, peering around Caleb to catch a glimpse of the small pile still awaiting his eye. When he registers what they are — the papers he had assigned a mere 2 weeks ago to his advanced transmutation students — Essek's brows furrow and he barely contains a scoff.
"You cannot have had those papers for more than a day."
"I'm going to have—" Caleb pauses to clear his throat, wincing slightly, "—a busy few weeks with Beau, so I have to grade these tonight. I'll come up when I'm done, I promise."
With a small, almost-apologetic smile, Caleb turns back towards his desk and plucks his quill from where it had settled previously.
Essek rolls his eyes, reaching into his pocket to grasp the fingers of his right hand around his focus and mutters under his breath, left hand gliding through a simple somatic. Caleb's quill halts in space where it is poised within his hand.
Caleb huffs frustratedly, muttering his own incantation and waving his fingers in a sharp line in the space between himself and the quill. When the quill does not budge, he turns around to shoot Essek a look.
"Essek—"
"It is late, Caleb, you need to rest." Essek does not comment that he is acutely aware of Caleb's lack of sleep, given their sleeping arrangements. "I will help you grade them later this week."
"I can't ask you to do that."
"You are not asking. I am offering." Essek rests a hand on Caleb's shoulder, giving him a meaningful look.
Now that Essek is properly looking at him, Caleb looks exhausted. Moreso than he has the last several nights. Stray strands of auburn frame his face messily. His eyes are slightly glassy, faintly squinting up at him as though the effort to keep them open is considerable on its own. Dark bags gather beneath them, accompanied by a light rosy flush along his cheeks. His nose is noticeably pinkened, with the faintest sheen of moisture clinging to his nostrils. His lips are parted open and starting to chap.
Something about the look leaves a swell of heat settling in Essek's stomach.
"Please come to bed, 'chev, you're exhausted." He adds gently, swirling his fingertips along the linen of Caleb's shirt that hangs loosely against his shoulder.
He visibly loosens with the touch. It takes a few seconds of evident internal debate before he breathes a soft, stuffy sigh and acquiesces to follow Essek. He stumbles a bit as he stands, leaning into Essek while they walk.
When they reach the bedroom, Caleb suddenly stops in his tracks, face scrunching in discomfort. His breath snags and he turns as far away from Essek has he can — which is not far, seeing as Essek is currently supporting his weight — to smother his nose in a sweater sleeve once again.
"hHD'Zzchh!" The subsequent sneeze is softer than Essek had been anticipating.
"Gesundheit."
Zemnian still feels especially strange on Essek's tongue, but the small smile it earned him from his partner was enough to assuage any nerves about his pronounciation.
"A quick student, I see." Caleb mumbles with a sniffle, manhandling his poor nose through his sweater-paw.
"I have a wonderful teacher." Essek squeezes Caleb's shoulder, a gentle smile spreading across his lips. "Now come, I am tired simply looking at you."
Caleb gives a soft huff of a laugh, allowing himself to be guided into bed and the covers to be drawn over him. Otto settles almost immediately beside his legs, purring happily and pressing rather aggressive biscuits into the blanket. Essek climbs in beside him a moment later, followed quickly by Ingrid who begins to groom herself. Caleb presses himself closer to Essek, humming in approval as Essek's hands card through his hair, sweeping the stray pieces from his cheeks.
After only a few seconds, Caleb turns away again, chest swelling and eyes fluttering shut.
"hHhiiH-! hHEDT'Zzchhiuhh!" Caleb shudders into his left elbow, laying back afterwards with a sigh and a muttered "sorry."
"Do not apologize." Essek reprimands gently. A hand cups Caleb's cheek and bring their gazes even. "You are allowed to be unwell."
"Mm, I'm f-hHhine." Caleb furrows his brow as his nostrils flare, eyes narrowing slightly as he struggles through the phrase.
Essek shoots him an unamused look, fingers mindlessly tracing the clean shaven edges of Caleb's beard beside his ear. Heat blooms inexplicably in Essek's gut as he watches Caleb's expression shift; pinkened nostrils flaring and scrunching in evident discomfort, already glassy eyes going even more unfocused, breaths coming in shallow, rapid gasps before he snaps his neck towards his chest, dislodging Essek's hands from their positions, drawing his hands to his face—
"hhHehD'ZzSChhh—! hhiHh- hHiDT'ZSshh'uhh!"
He stares as Caleb's expression crumples, trying his best to ignore the feeling of Caleb's muscles contracting against his side. A molten heat settles at the base of Essek's stomach, sending sparks of electricity spidering up and down his spine.
Oh. Essek could not help but draw in a small breath. Of all the things that could possibly wake his perpetually reticent arousal, this was not one he anticipated. Nor one he has ever properly considered before. Strange.
"Ah," Caleb's cheeks go bright red, hands remaining tightly pressed to his face.
Essek is positive his own face is flushed a deep shade of violet, if the heat pulsing behind his cheeks is any indication. After a beat of silence their gazes meet, and another wave of warm arousal settles squarely between Essek's legs. He has to resist the urge to squirm or shift away from Caleb out of embarrassment.
"Gesundheit." Essek's voice is just above a whisper, and he can only pray his desperation is not evident in his tone. Another beat of silence passes before Essek has a mind enough to wave his hand and cast prestidigitation on Caleb's hands.
"Danke." Caleb sniffles, giving Essek a shy smile as he draws his hands away and lets them settle back on Essek's body — one pressed against his chest, the other draped over his stomach. If Caleb can feel the hammering of Essek's heartbeat he does not mention it. "You don't have to say it every time, you know."
"I know."
(Essek did not, in fact, know that. Caleb has said it each of the handful of times he managed to bear witness to Essek's sneezing. The rest of the Nein, he is aware, always blessed each other dilligently as well. Without any evidence to the contrary, he simply assumed repeating the phrase was the correct course of action.)
"I think it is…" Essek pauses, his cheeks heating a bit as he searches for a proper word. "Rather endearing to have a phrase to respond with."
Caleb shifts to better look up at Essek, his leg ensnaring one of Essek's own in the process. "Is there not a blessing in Undercommon?"
"No. Or, not within Roshona, at least." He looks away with a small chuckle. "You would think for such a religious population there would be something, but, ah, sneezing is considered… impolite, I suppose, so it is frowned upon to acknowledge it."
"Well, I ahhppreciate thhehhH-! The ehhffort thehnihhH-! hHhEDT'ZZschhh'uh!"
He fumbles away from Essek, barely managing to press a hand over his face as he curls inward, forehead bumping against Essek's chest. The contact, paired with the breathless quality of Caleb's voice sends a shock of electricity radiating down towards Essek's groin. Caleb sniffles and sighs, shaking a stray lock of hair from his face before he gives Essek a sheepish look over the scarred, pale knuckles of the hand still pressed to his face.
"Ah, perhaps I could bother you to show me prestidigitation one of these days."
Essek chuckles lightly and raises a hand to cast with practiced ease, reveling in the attention Caleb pays to the gesture. A weak, gossammer thread of magic dances playfully around his fingers, and at the final moment before it take hold, Essek flicks his pinky finger and thumb together and apart in a swift motion. The arcana converges with a violet flash into a plush, white handkerchief that falls delicately into his palm.
Caleb stares at the handkerchief in mild amusement.
"Do not tell me you were unaware of prestidigitation's alternative functions." Essek raises a brow, though the expression is betrayed by the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He extends the handkerchief to Caleb, giving him a nod.
"I can't say I've ever seen it used like this before."
Caleb's watery eyes crinkle with a smile, accepting the handkerchief and examining it briefly before raising it to his face to wipe at his pinkened nose. After exactly twelve seconds, the handkerchief dissipates in a puff of sparkling arcane energy. That same, amused expression paints Caleb's features as he sniffles again, gaze flitting from the empty space of his fingers where the handkerchief had been and Essek's face.
"You're always full of surprises." Caleb says with a yawn.
Essek rolls his eyes half-heartedly, letting a hand run through Caleb's hair once again. Caleb very nearly joins Otto in his purring, craning his neck back to press into Essek's hand and letting out a stuffy, pleased sigh. His hands find their way back to Essek, their warmth adding to the pleasurable buzz gathering in his chest.
"Get some rest, alurl."
Caleb peeks at Essek, lip curling in a tired smile before he closes his eyes and rests his head against Essek's chest once more. It is a mere matter of minutes before his breath begins to slow and a soft snore begins crackling in his chest.
Trance does not come as easily to Essek as sleep does to Caleb tonight. The grounding presence of Caleb against him is usually more than suffiecient as a focus to guide his consciousness from his body, but tonight, the heat radiating off of Caleb serves only to further ground him in their bedroom. Essek is all too aware of the way Caleb's chest rises and falls against his own, the position of Caleb's hands on his body— one draped over Essek's waist, fingers splayed along the small of his back, the other curled into the soft silk fabric of Essek's nightrobe. He can feel Caleb's nose pressed against his ribs.
That, particularly, sends another flare of arousal crashing over Essek's nerves like a pulse wave. He breaths in and out methodically, willing his heart to cease its relentless attempt to beat out of his chest. His fingers tingle with anticipation, aching to trail along the fine muscles of Caleb's arms and back, to trace the edges of the many adventurer's scars that mottle his pale skin. Heat pools at the base of his gut as he feels Caleb's lungs continue to expand and contract in a steady rhythm, the slightest rumbling of congestion resonating in his chest and through to Essek's own.
Essek does not need Caleb's sense of time to recognize the many minutes that pass as he admires the quiet, peaceful, beauty of Caleb at rest. The arousal fades as Caleb slips deeper into slumber, and eventually Essek manages to join him, conjuring images of auburn hair and brilliant blue eyes from the many memories he holds closest to his chest.
snzfic writers who have posted on ao3, what was your experience like??
ive been thinking about posting mine to ao3 since i do most of my reading/writing there and the interface is just better than tumblr imo, but i am TERRIFIED that i am either going to 1. get a lot of weird comments/be made fun of for posting weird shit there or 2. people are going to recognize my writing style from my vanilla fics i post there and be weird about it…
i made a separate account for snzfics, and my normal fics arent like hugely popular but they have gotten a decent amount of attention within my fandom… idk its probably just me overthinking but im scared… has anyone else posted their fics there? is it considered too weird??😭
Someone in the group has been sick for a few days now. They've been keeping it well under wraps, excusing themselves from rooms, volunteering for the tasks that can be done alone, getting up and going to bed earlier. And god they're so exhausted. But sickness is weakness, they know this.
By day 5, it's getting pretty rough. Their sneezes are getting so thick and heavy that stifling takes everything in them. Their chest is starting to ache from the congested pressure and their bones are growing cold from days of running feverish.
But then, someone else in the group comes down with the cold. Not knowing that it's really original character's cold. This second character has no qualms about admitting when they're sick. The group bands around them, making sure they rest and are well looked after.
This of course means additional chores for original character. They trudge their feet along the ground, feeling their fever growing higher and higher as day slips to night.
As they lug something heavy, nose dripping, head swimming, they look over at the crackling fire. Second sickie, whose cold is mild, is bundled in blankets, sipping something warm. The others are bunched around them, laughing, passing handkerchiefs, faces golden by the blaze.
And as original character turns to keep walking through the silent, glacial night, some quiet, desperate part of them wishes they really would collapse, so the others would take care of them too.
Finally as original character is collecting up the plates for the night, they can’t hold it in anymore and splutter with a hasty, harsh sneeze against the back of a wrist.
Which sets them off coughing and coughing and coughing.
“Woah, you don’t sound too good. Did you catch their cold?” One of the members of the group asks.
Original character opens their mouth to respond but ends up sneezing thickly into cupped hands instead.
“No seriously. That cough doesn’t sound new. How long have you been sick?”
And original character finally admits, voice barely comprehensible from the congestion.
hi i've returned with a small something! more sneezing wizards im afraid (cri/tical ro/le) i wrote this a while back while i was on some kind of snzfic kick and its actually kinda cute so i figured id share it :)
no cute name this time unfortunately but this does also happen to be part of a lil 5+1 thing i was trying to write (different from the one the last fic is from, i just really like 5+1's lol) so maybe you'll get more kink!wizards being horny for each other who knows
1.6k words, kink!ca/leb, dust allergies, vaguely post-canon but not spoilery, not edited!!
Caleb rubbed at a blooming bruise on his ribs as he scanned through the logbook in his lap. It was rather dense, and only legible through continuius castings of comprehend languages which made his vision swim with arcane energy. He was sitting hunched over himself in an armchair within the tower, leafing through the tome with his feet tucked under a blanket. Tea, brought by Mitzi nearly two hours ago sat cold and untouched on the coffee table between him and Essek.
Essek sits on an opposite arm chair, mirroring Caleb's posture as he reads the final pages of his own tome plucked from the Praesidis Ward during their expedition of the day. His left hand fiddles with the oblong pearls of his focus as he reads, and his right hand is positioned under his chin, with his thumb resting over his lips and against his nose.
Silence, spare the sound of pages turning and the occasional sniff or accented breath, stretches between them until the Aeorian text before him begins to swim into incomprehensibility once again. Caleb dips his fingers into his component pouch to recast the spell, wiping the residual soot and salt onto his pant leg.
Gently, Essek closes the book in his hand, setting it back on the table between them. His fingers dance over the remaining tomes, each one thick with dust and slightly damp with now-melted frost, finally choosing one of the thicker books. With a wave of his manicured fingers, arcane energy weaves itself around his head.
As he opens the book, a plume of dust rises from the pages, illuminated by the amber lights hanging around the tower's sitting room. Essek sniffs, waving his left hand through the somatics for prestidigitation as if it were second nature. The dust dissipates from the air and most of the page currently open, but the rest of the tome remains obscured in the slightly soggy dust. His hand returns to its position over his mouth.
Over the next few minutes, Caleb finds himself watching, enraptured, as Essek — unaware of his audience — sniffles and swipes at his nose while he reads. The sound grows increasingly wet as time goes on, an irritated tear slipping from his lashline and smudging his masterfully applied eyeliner. (Caleb had teased him a bit about it that very morning — only Essek would bother applying makeup while exploring the ruins of Aeor.)
Essek's breath hitches lightly, his eyes squeeze shut and his hands shift to clamp over his nose entirely. Essek twists away from the book, silencing two — no, three — sneezes into his hands. The sigh that follows is just barely audible, but evidently congested.
Heat coils in Caleb's gut as he watches Essek sniffle and wipe at his teary eyes. Caleb shifts slightly so his book is a bit further up against his thighs.
Vulnerability has always been, well, hot to Caleb. Whether it was himself being spread wide before Eadwulf and Astrid for them to have their way, or it was one of them beneath him, begging for release, that level of trust had always turned his intestines to putty.
Of course, this was nothing like the sex he had back then. Essek was fully clothed and several feet away, obliviously reading. To compare feels foolish, but somehow both situations invite the same sharp feelings of arousal in him.
After several more minutes of quiet reading, Essek's breath hitches again, a little more pronounced this time, as though it had taken him by surprise. He wrenches away from the book once more, his nose flushed purple between his fingers as he pinches off another pair of sneezes into near silence. He sniffles sharply and blinks, finally sparing a glance towards Caleb.
Oh, he had been caught staring.
"Gesundheit." Caleb feels a bit of heat rise in his cheeks as he speaks.
Essek sniffles again, pressing a knuckle against his septum.
"Apologies," A pointed canine peeks out from behind Essek's glossed lips before he ducks back towards his book to continue reading, his cheeks a darker shade of lavender.
The way his accent curled around the word sends another flare of heat to Caleb's groin.
It is difficult to focus on the logbook in his lap when each ever-increasingly stuffy intake of breath from the man across from him sends another wave of arousal through his lower half. Essek, for his part, has managed not to sneeze for the last several minutes now — though if the way his right hand continues to fiddle with his irritated nose is any indication, that is not likely to remain the case for much longer.
Caleb shifts, relieving some of the ever increasing pressure between his legs as Essek's breath hitches once more. He glances up just in time to see Essek's left hand stutter and fail to cast another prestidigitation, then both hands snap to pitch over his nose and—!
"hH'NGt-nGT'chh! hHieh—!" Essek blinks, eyes unfocused and rimmed with tears. He sniffles, then his breath continues to hitch desperately. "hH'EhTschhiuhh!"
Gods.
Caleb's cock twitched in time with each sound. He would need to revisit this moment once they left Aeor to unravel why exactly this elicits such a reaction from him. Essek was not even looking in his direction and he was already half hard. If he wasn't so distracted, he would probably feel rather embarrassed.
"Gesundheit." The word felt heavy on Caleb's tongue. It takes concerted effort to sound causal, as though this was not doing anything to him.
Essek's violet eyes snap up to Caleb's, tears clinging to his lower lashline. He scans Caleb's face, lingering slightly on Caleb's quirked lips before darting back towards his book. One hand comes to swipe at his nose while the other removes another cantrip's-worth of dust from the page.
"Thank you, my apologies." His response is punctuated by a noticeably wetter sniffle, and his knuckle presses against his septum.
A beat passes. Essek attempts to refocus on the book in his lap.
Caleb furrows his brows. "Are you…?"
What a masterfiul way to broach the subject, Widogast.
"Ah," He looks up at Caleb once again, knuckle still pressed against his twitching nose. "I am fine, it is j-juhh-! just a bit—hhiih-! hHhiihD'nGTchh!" He curses in his mother tongue under his breath. "Apologies, dhhusty."
Caleb bites back another blessing, not trusting his voice. His heart beats through his chest, sending dangerous waves of heat towards his cock. He swallows against his dry throat as Essek sniffles and runs a hand through his hair.
"You are allergic to dust, then?"
It was a bit silly; a wizard being allergic to dust. Their kind were avid bookworms by nature. What proper intellectual would not jump at the opportunity to unravel an ancient tome of magic that has not been touched in centuries? In that sense, dust was an occupational hazard for a wizard. Caleb himself had not been affected by it since he was young, and he hadn't met many people in his time adventuring that had much difficulty with it either — although, adventurers tended to be more hearty than the average folk, and given Essek's delicate upbringing, perhaps it was not so surprising he was a touch sensitive.
Essek shrugs, sniffling once again. "A bit, I s-suhHpposeh-!" Another throaty expletive. "hH-! hEhDT'scch! Gods, my apologies."
"Gesundheit." Caleb cannot look away, not even if he wanted to — and, to be clear, he does not want to — he is completely mesmerised by the image of allergic drow seated before him. "Perhaps I can bother the cats to clean these before we take to deciphering them?"
Mitzi enters not a moment later, busying herself with gathering the number of books strewn about the coffee table.
"Perhaps that is for the best." He chuckles, sniffling as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear. As Mitzi grabs the final book, he smiles warmly at her, "Thank you, Ile'Mitzi."
"Was there anything of interest in your tomes?" Caleb asked, shifting a bit in his seat. His stomach swooped towards his toes as Essek's violet eyes locked onto his own, narrowed just slightly by the same warm expression he had aimed at the spectral cat.
"Ah, yhhes," Essek pressed a hand against his nose as his breath hitched, eyelids fluttering on their own accord, breaking the short-held charged gaze. "I think thhis one was from a hHih-! a hH- s-sorry, I- hHihD'Nxgt-NT'schh'iuh!"
"Gesund—" Caleb is cut off by Essek raising a finger. His breath is still hitching, face pinched in an expression of irritated desperation that was doing absolutely nothing to Caleb's groin right now. One manicured hand remained pressed against his nose which has now taken on a rather pretty purple flush.
"hhHehH'NgTcshH-! nD'TSchH'iuh!" Essek sniffles thickly. A tear falls as he blinks several times. His gaze falls onto Caleb after a moment, wide-eyed. The blush on his cheeks deepens and his hand stays firmly in place over his nose. "I am, um, I am going to—" He gestures upwards with his free hand, towards the bedchambers.
"Of course, ja." Caleb hopes he doesn't sound too breathless. "Go ahead, call the cats if you need anything."
"Thank you." Essek gives him a genuine smile before ducking and practically darting out of the study.
Caleb manages, by some miracle, to make it back to his own bedroom before needing to tend to himself. He does not spend the time dwelling on what exactly about the scene ellicited such a reaction — there are many arcane mysteries for them to unravel deep within the ruins of Aeor, his own personal mysteries would have to wait until the return to Rexxentrum.
hi i've returned with a small something! some sneezing wizards im afraid (cri/tical ro/le) i wrote this a while back while i was on some kind of snzfic kick and its actually kinda cute so i figured id share it :)
this does also happen to be part of a lil 5+1 thing i was trying to write so maybe you'll get more kink!wizards being horny for each other who knows
1.6k words, kink!ca/leb, es/sek with dust allergies, vaguely post-canon but not spoilery, not edited!!
Caleb rubbed at a blooming bruise on his ribs as he scanned through the logbook in his lap. It was rather dense, and only legible through continuius castings of comprehend languages which made his vision swim with arcane energy. He was sitting hunched over himself in an armchair within the tower, leafing through the tome with his feet tucked under a blanket. Tea, brought by Mitzi nearly two hours ago sat cold and untouched on the coffee table between him and Essek.
Essek sits on an opposite arm chair, mirroring Caleb's posture as he reads the final pages of his own tome plucked from the Praesidis Ward during their expedition of the day. His left hand fiddles with the oblong pearls of his focus as he reads, and his right hand is positioned under his chin, with his thumb resting over his lips and against his nose.
Silence, spare the sound of pages turning and the occasional sniff or accented breath, stretches between them until the Aeorian text before him begins to swim into incomprehensibility once again. Caleb dips his fingers into his component pouch to recast the spell, wiping the residual soot and salt onto his pant leg.
Gently, Essek closes the book in his hand, setting it back on the table between them. His fingers dance over the remaining tomes, each one thick with dust and slightly damp with now-melted frost, finally choosing one of the thicker books. With a wave of his manicured fingers, arcane energy weaves itself around his head.
As he opens the book, a plume of dust rises from the pages, illuminated by the amber lights hanging around the tower's sitting room. Essek sniffs, waving his left hand through the somatics for prestidigitation as if it were second nature. The dust dissipates from the air and most of the page currently open, but the rest of the tome remains obscured in the slightly soggy dust. His hand returns to its position over his mouth.
Over the next few minutes, Caleb finds himself watching, enraptured, as Essek — unaware of his audience — sniffles and swipes at his nose while he reads. The sound grows increasingly wet as time goes on, an irritated tear slipping from his lashline and smudging his masterfully applied eyeliner. (Caleb had teased him a bit about it that very morning — only Essek would bother applying makeup while exploring the ruins of Aeor.)
Essek's breath hitches lightly, his eyes squeeze shut and his hands shift to clamp over his nose entirely. Essek twists away from the book, silencing two — no, three — sneezes into his hands. The sigh that follows is just barely audible, but evidently congested.
Heat coils in Caleb's gut as he watches Essek sniffle and wipe at his teary eyes. Caleb shifts slightly so his book is a bit further up against his thighs.
Vulnerability has always been, well, hot to Caleb. Whether it was himself being spread wide before Eadwulf and Astrid for them to have their way, or it was one of them beneath him, begging for release, that level of trust had always turned his intestines to putty.
Of course, this was nothing like the sex he had back then. Essek was fully clothed and several feet away, obliviously reading. To compare feels foolish, but somehow both situations invite the same sharp feelings of arousal in him.
After several more minutes of quiet reading, Essek's breath hitches again, a little more pronounced this time, as though it had taken him by surprise. He wrenches away from the book once more, his nose flushed purple between his fingers as he pinches off another pair of sneezes into near silence. He sniffles sharply and blinks, finally sparing a glance towards Caleb.
Oh, he had been caught staring.
"Gesundheit." Caleb feels a bit of heat rise in his cheeks as he speaks.
Essek sniffles again, pressing a knuckle against his septum.
"Apologies," A pointed canine peeks out from behind Essek's glossed lips before he ducks back towards his book to continue reading, his cheeks a darker shade of lavender.
The way his accent curled around the word sends another flare of heat to Caleb's groin.
It is difficult to focus on the logbook in his lap when each ever-increasingly stuffy intake of breath from the man across from him sends another wave of arousal through his lower half. Essek, for his part, has managed not to sneeze for the last several minutes now — though if the way his right hand continues to fiddle with his irritated nose is any indication, that is not likely to remain the case for much longer.
Caleb shifts, relieving some of the ever increasing pressure between his legs as Essek's breath hitches once more. He glances up just in time to see Essek's left hand stutter and fail to cast another prestidigitation, then both hands snap to pitch over his nose and—!
"hH'NGt-nGT'chh! hHieh—!" Essek blinks, eyes unfocused and rimmed with tears. He sniffles, then his breath continues to hitch desperately. "hH'EhTschhiuhh!"
Gods.
Caleb's cock twitched in time with each sound. He would need to revisit this moment once they left Aeor to unravel why exactly this elicits such a reaction from him. Essek was not even looking in his direction and he was already half hard. If he wasn't so distracted, he would probably feel rather embarrassed.
"Gesundheit." The word felt heavy on Caleb's tongue. It takes concerted effort to sound causal, as though this was not doing anything to him.
Essek's violet eyes snap up to Caleb's, tears clinging to his lower lashline. He scans Caleb's face, lingering slightly on Caleb's quirked lips before darting back towards his book. One hand comes to swipe at his nose while the other removes another cantrip's-worth of dust from the page.
"Thank you, my apologies." His response is punctuated by a noticeably wetter sniffle, and his knuckle presses against his septum.
A beat passes. Essek attempts to refocus on the book in his lap.
Caleb furrows his brows. "Are you…?"
What a masterfiul way to broach the subject, Widogast.
"Ah," He looks up at Caleb once again, knuckle still pressed against his twitching nose. "I am fine, it is j-juhh-! just a bit—hhiih-! hHhiihD'nGTchh!" He curses in his mother tongue under his breath. "Apologies, dhhusty."
Caleb bites back another blessing, not trusting his voice. His heart beats through his chest, sending dangerous waves of heat towards his cock. He swallows against his dry throat as Essek sniffles and runs a hand through his hair.
"You are allergic to dust, then?"
It was a bit silly; a wizard being allergic to dust. Their kind were avid bookworms by nature. What proper intellectual would not jump at the opportunity to unravel an ancient tome of magic that has not been touched in centuries? In that sense, dust was an occupational hazard for a wizard. Caleb himself had not been affected by it since he was young, and he hadn't met many people in his time adventuring that had much difficulty with it either — although, adventurers tended to be more hearty than the average folk, and given Essek's delicate upbringing, perhaps it was not so surprising he was a touch sensitive.
Essek shrugs, sniffling once again. "A bit, I s-suhHpposeh-!" Another throaty expletive. "hH-! hEhDT'scch! Gods, my apologies."
"Gesundheit." Caleb cannot look away, not even if he wanted to — and, to be clear, he does not want to — he is completely mesmerised by the image of allergic drow seated before him. "Perhaps I can bother the cats to clean these before we take to deciphering them?"
Mitzi enters not a moment later, busying herself with gathering the number of books strewn about the coffee table.
"Perhaps that is for the best." He chuckles, sniffling as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear. As Mitzi grabs the final book, he smiles warmly at her, "Thank you, Ile'Mitzi."
"Was there anything of interest in your tomes?" Caleb asked, shifting a bit in his seat. His stomach swooped towards his toes as Essek's violet eyes locked onto his own, narrowed just slightly by the same warm expression he had aimed at the spectral cat.
"Ah, yhhes," Essek pressed a hand against his nose as his breath hitched, eyelids fluttering on their own accord, breaking the short-held charged gaze. "I think thhis one was from a hHih-! a hH- s-sorry, I- hHihD'Nxgt-NT'schh'iuh!"
"Gesund—" Caleb is cut off by Essek raising a finger. His breath is still hitching, face pinched in an expression of irritated desperation that was doing absolutely nothing to Caleb's groin right now. One manicured hand remained pressed against his nose which has now taken on a rather pretty purple flush.
"hhHehH'NgTcshH-! nD'TSchH'iuh!" Essek sniffles thickly. A tear falls as he blinks several times. His gaze falls onto Caleb after a moment, wide-eyed. The blush on his cheeks deepens and his hand stays firmly in place over his nose. "I am, um, I am going to—" He gestures upwards with his free hand, towards the bedchambers.
"Of course, ja." Caleb hopes he doesn't sound too breathless. "Go ahead, call the cats if you need anything."
"Thank you." Essek gives him a genuine smile before ducking and practically darting out of the study.
Caleb manages, by some miracle, to make it back to his own bedroom before needing to tend to himself. He does not spend the time dwelling on what exactly about the scene ellicited such a reaction — there are many arcane mysteries for them to unravel deep within the ruins of Aeor, his own personal mysteries would have to wait until the return to Rexxentrum.
Hm. I often avoid making posts on here related to any discourse because as I say, I usually come here to jerk off, but I've been seeing things I don't like around this neck of the woods lately, so I guess I'll fire some rent-lowering gunshots and get some people to block me:
Trans women are women, trans men are men, nonbinary and genderweird folks are under no obligation to justify their existence to you, and if you think otherwise, fuck you! Get the fuck off my blog, you piece of shit.
I think AI is cringe and stupid. AI-generated images and videos are bottom of the bottom of the barrel of porn. Don't put that shit on my dash. Get out of my living room.
Doing porn is not consent. Quit being creeps. If you think you're coming on too strong when hitting on someone, you probably are! Pull back, chief, reel it in; you're about to smash your dick into a concrete pillar.
