I wrote this with my (proverbial) dick in my hand, and it’s my first time writing snz porn so that has me feeling pretty vulnerable. I’ve always appreciated those of you who post explicit content, but I’m appreciating from a different lens this time! this is scary! or maybe I’m just a chronic overthinker. but this is a kink space and we all (most of us?) jork it to a sneeze, so I gotta get my head out of my ass.
anyway, I also experimented with tone!! not sure if it’ll make a big difference in the reader experience, but I’m interested to hear what you think!
once again, sorry for always rambling before I get to the horn. I’ll stop here :)
post-TLG pwp (except there’s a lotta love in the details?) in which shane and ilya both have colds. they’re married, they just won a game, and they want to get off.
or; ilya has no qualms about sneezing during sex and is generally a menace. shane needs to be eased into it but is very down bad for his menace husband. the results are really, really filthy.
VERY NSFW!!! 18+ as always, but even adults should be warned about the depravity that follows.
The Centaurs won.
It had been a grueling few days, back-to-back games with the the winter holidays coming closer in view. They still had a few weeks of games packed tight before Christmas, but tonight was the start of a rare two days off for recovery.
And it was much needed. A cold was spreading through the team, and if their wins the past two nights were considered, most of the league were likely plagued with something similar—if not worse, given some of the awful plays they’d been witnessing the past two weeks.
Shane’s drive home from the arena had been easy and quiet, with his husband leaned back in the passenger seat and only occasionally making comments on how they could spend the next couple days. (‘Snnfffsnf! We can get—snnf!—Christmas tree tomorrow. Take Anya with us. And look online for—snnff-ggh’mm—new orm… Orma… Eh, decorations.’) To Shane, it sounded more like there would be a lot of lounging in order, and a lot of sniffling. (‘Ornaments. Snnngff! And we’ll see.’)
Anya had been with Shane’s parents since yesterday afternoon, dropped off before they headed to the arena, what with both Shane and Ilya being under the weather and having back-to-back games. It had been the most logical choice when neither of them were at their best and were going to have two late nights in a row.
Ilya had been less than pleased but agreed under the reality that Anya would happier not being alone so much—and having a staycation with her grandparents (Shane’s mom had feelings about that, and she most certainly had voiced them).
Normally Shane loved coming home to Anya, loved watching how Ilya would crouch in greeting and kiss words of endearment into her fur like he hadn’t seen her in days, like it wasn’t ritual to spend his pre-game nap with her in bed. But tonight Shane was glad to share a quiet homecoming with him. He enjoyed the way they were transforming right over the threshold of their front door, going from tired but fulfilled teammates to a pair of husbands with colds who had no obligations beyond dragging each other to the couch between kisses.
They were both sniffly and exhausted in that weathering-a-cold way, but the high from winning back-to-back games was taking its time to fizzle out. There was still enough of a buzz left in both of them, and there was no good reason to withhold their bodies from each other when they were already sharing the same cold.
Ilya kissed him gently at first, awkwardly and between steps, little pecks with parted lips that were more for the sake of keeping contact as they ambled further into their home. Shane reacted with short hums of appreciation and roaming hands, because Ilya’s lips felt far too good against his face to possibly interrupt but he desperately needed to place himself somewhere in the scope of exercising his need for Ilya in return. He wanted to have his cake, eat his cake, and fuck it too.
Being on the receiving end of Ilya’s mouth, when it was at its most tender and occasionally its most filthy, filled him with so much warmth he didn’t know what to do with it all. It bled into him until it spilled over, because Ilya was nothing if not a giving lover, and Shane needed a place to store the excess of it (re: right back into Ilya’s waiting palms, and he knew they would be handing it back and forth, back and forth all night).
Shane knew, and weakened over the idea, that no one else would ever have the privilege of experiencing just how selfless Ilya’s mouth could be. They got vicious digs, while Shane got—
They collapsed on the couch together, Ilya lounging in a half-lying sprawl in the corner of the sectional while Shane hovered in a straddle, and Ilya dove forward to mouth at his neck. Shane saw sun-kissed curls as he let his eyes fall shut, and he swore it could have been the light of god flashing over him because surely this had to be heaven.
“—ISHH’ewh!”
That had come out of nowhere, courtesy of said curls tickling over his already irritated nose, and there was nowhere to turn when he hadn’t even known it was coming in the first place.
So, yeah, Shane had sneezed on top of his husband’s head.
And yeah, that put a fucking wrench in the mood.
And—of course Ilya was still kissing his neck like nothing had happened.
“Ilya, wait—“
“Mmh?”
Ilya kept going, and Shane had half a mind let him because his skin was being tugged into Ilya’s hot mouth as he sucked right on his pulse point, just the way he liked. He groaned and was rewarded with a generous swipe of Ilya’s tongue, which was a very convincing argument against—well, there wasn’t any argument at all, but his nose twitched and reminded him of why he asked Ilya to wait in the first place.
He sniffed sharply, nose wrinkling, and weakly pushed at Ilya’s shoulder. “Maybe—ahh!—maybe we’re too sick for this.”
That got Ilya’s attention.
Too much of it, maybe. Ilya straightened, lifting his head and inching back to sit taller with Shane still straddling his lap. His lips were already tinted red, swollen in that just-been-kissed way Shane could die staring at just to prove the point that he could stare at them forever.
“You feel bad, malysh?”
Ilya took his hand off of its place at Shane’s hip and touched the back of his wrist to Shane’s forehead, then his cheek. It was a choice so deliberate and thoughtful that it made his stomach flip, which was truthfully a little perplexing. Apparently he needed to add his husband’s capacity for concern and care to his ever growing list of ways Ilya could get him off.
It was also thoroughly frustrating, because he could feel himself getting harder with each passing second.
“No, we just... This is kinda gross, Ilya,” he mumbled but didn’t feel all that sure, and that uncertainty proved real as it carried over into his voice. He could hear it, the way it sounded like he believed what he was saying but only halfway meant it. The way his words formed in his mouth one way and shaped into something else entirely once they were out of him.
Ilya rolled his eyes, head falling back in exasperation. “Right. Because nothing we do is gross, ever.”
“Shut up, you know what I mean.”
Ilya cupped his hand over Shane’s crotch. It wasn’t exactly a squeeze, but it was enough to make Shane loosen his breath and tilt his hips. “Right now I know your dick is hard enough to rip through your pants.”
But then Ilya was pulling his hand back, and Shane let his own hand ghost over the same space, pressing oh-so-slightly because he was suddenly very aware of the lack—and, in part, because he had to physically hold himself back from letting his hips follow Ilya’s hand like a dog to its fucking master.
Ilya looked down at this, eyes all fire and gratification, like the look he got during a face-off he was confident in winning. Sometimes Shane missed seeing that look on the ice, head-on with Ilya playing dirty and trying to piss him off. And he wasn’t sure how much he liked seeing it in bed these days (which was a lot, actually, but he was a sore loser and he usually lost to this).
“No, never mind. I think you don’t need this as much as me.”
“That’s—“
“No, no. I need to fuck you so bad I will let you sneeze everywhere.” Ilya motioned in a wide swoop down his body, then sagged in a resigned, overly dramatized way like it was somehow possible to collapse when he was already pressed into the couch. “But you will let big scary germs win.”
Shane’s jaw clenched. His temple pulsed. Ilya was playing an angle Shane could see from a mile away, and it was working. “Alright! Alright.” He still wasn’t keen on the idea of sneezing all over the place, and on his husband, but his cock was really starting to ache. He gave it a squeeze because, fuck, he couldn’t help it. “Fine, you win. You win.”
Ilya lolled his head to the side, feigning hopelessness. He wistfully voiced, “Ooh, but I will also sneeze on you probably. You won’t like that.”
Shane gritted his teeth. “Can’t you just, like, try not to?”
“It will happen, Shane.” Now Ilya was all serious business, pitching his voice higher and letting his body follow. He traced his fingers over Shane’s arm. “By accident, of course. But I cannot control a sneeze.”
Shane considered this. It was true, and it was silly that it needed to be said. The whole conversation was silly, in fact, but Shane had a feeling Ilya wouldn’t back down. Shane wouldn’t have, anyway. Probably. It was hard to understand how the scales tipped when his weeping dick was on the line.
Maybe Ilya, and his tendency to give Shane everything he wanted, was the only way Shane could ever stand to lose. In a way, it made Shane feel like a winner by association—and because he always got an orgasm out of it.
“…can sneeze… me…”
“What? Sorry, can’t hear so well.” Ilya smiled subtly, a smug and self-satisfied sort of kink to his lips that made Shane want to kiss it right off of him. Ilya motioned at his ear in a lazy wave. “Very stuffed up because I have a cold.”
“You can sneeze on me! God, you can fucking sneeze wherever the fuck you want.”
If he had known that was all it would take, Shane would have said it ages ago. (Minutes, actually, but what were numbers on the timeline of desire? He’d never been very good at math.) Sure, maybe he had been the one to stop their doings in the first place, but he had been wrong for it. He could admit that now, with Ilya’s mouth crashing into his.
Shane apologized for it the way he knew how. With his mouth, trailing rushed and frantic kisses across a strong jaw, the soft underside of it where he could practically taste his pulse, the nape where he could best smell the perfect mix of Ilya and shower room soap—
“H-hheEH-“
Shane started to pull back. Ilya’s hold on the back of his head tightened, fingers tugging his hair so taut it was practically a dare to keep fucking around and find out that his hair wasn’t actually as married to his scalp as he thought. Ilya was simultaneously pulling his hair and pushing him so hard against his collar that the tip of his nose flattened wide against his skin.
“-h’ISSHHT!”
Ilya laughed heartily as Shane broke away to roughly rub two fingers under his nose, partly out of shock and partly because it was still tickling.
“Fu-uuh!-huh’ISSHooh! Fuck you! What was that for?!” He ground the heel of his palm against the underside of his nose, which he knew was arguably gross, but it was itching so badly. It was next level torture, almost on par with the way his dick was twitching in his pants. “Kind of—huh’ISSHuhh! sdnnff! Kind of seems like you want me to sneeze on you, pervert.”
Ilya looked reasonably amused by that. “Mmh, no. But I don’t mind, and I want you.” His voice dipped low, gravely from his cold. “And I want you to kiss my neck some more.”
(Shane was dismayed to realize he had another item to add to the list of things that turned him on, and it was his husband’s voice when he had a cold. At some point, maybe he’d have to resign from jotting any of it down and just put Ilya, Ilya, Ilya instead. It would sum up the list quite nicely.)
Ilya grabbed his bicep with strong fingers. It was like Ilya could ball up all his need in his hand and make Shane feel it through his grip alone, so Shane let himself be pulled forward in a trance fueled by Ilya and his cold-ridden voice, and his insatiable hunger, and so what if they sneezed on each other when he was pretty sure that later he was going to come so hard the proof of it would end up on both their faces.
And between all this lust, they were still fully clothed. It was ridiculous, and he would have to fix that later. Soon probably, but he was already back at Ilya’s neck.
It was hard to tell whether the dip of Ilya’s neck was wet from the way he’d been mouthing at it moments ago, or because he had sneezed on it. Probably both, which was what he would think if he had the wherewithal to form even half a thought.
“HhH-HAAHDt-dzZSHOO!” Ilya sneezed, and now Shane understood why it had been so easy for Ilya to keep kissing through it. “Yhh’HIDSCHHT! Ghh-hehh-heED’ZSCHUuh!”
“B-Bleshh’oo,” he managed absently around his wandering tongue, still trying to find a point of entrance, trying to find a place where he could bury his whole mouth right into Ilya’s throat and feel the vibration of those sneezes directly from his vocal cords with the whole of his tongue.
Ilya chuckled, if a little breathy, and Shane started seeing stars. Whether it was laughing, or sneezing, or talking—he just needed Ilya to keep on so he could taste his way around the shape of Ilya’s voice. “So polite, solnyshko.” Fuck. “Always—snnghff!—so polite.”
Shane adjusted his hips, angling so he could rut his groin right up against Ilya’s stomach and, in turn, feel his balls drag over Ilya’s thick, hard length. It was an odd contortion, one where his spine was curving every which way, but Ilya felt so good. He wanted to thank whoever had the idea of making athletic joggers so thin, maybe mail a note or write an email because he was just that grateful—and very certain that whoever designed these things also had a beautiful husband whose dick they needed to feel the details of even through clothed foreplay. Functional fashion, or something, and his praise for it.
“Fuck, oh fuuuck. Ilya.” Just as he felt he was about to come in his fucking performance pants (yeah, already, but only because Ilya was tugging his hair again and making awfully crazed noises), Ilya placed his hands against his chest and made him come up for fresh air.
“Stop, stop.”
“Noooh-hah’IXSCHewhh! No, I can’t—“ Shane led with his lips, eyes hooded and caught in building up to another sneeze, and not having the capacity to care, as he dove back in. This was a primal kind of revolt in the face of denial, stripping him of sense and manners and the ability to cover his fucking mouth, apparently. “Hhuh! ‘ISSHHhueh! Please—“
“I was wrong, I think.” Ilya’s hands were firm on his chest, effectively stopping him from doing anything other than sneezing on Ilya’s outstretched arms. Ilya said, breathless, “You need this more than me, maybe.”
“Fuck off, I don’t need anything.” But his voice came out thin, so obviously a lie it made his face flush hot because who was he to deny he needed anything when he had chased after his husband sneeze-forward.
“You need to take off your clothes before you come in them.” Ilya tried to sound smug, and it almost landed, but he also had that low rasp that meant he was on the brink of losing his fucking mind, too. “You do want me to fuck you tonight, yes?” It was a surrender, maybe an admission that Ilya was coming completely undone, or at least that was how Shane wanted to take it.
“Yes, yes, please yes.”
Ilya grabbed the hem of his sweatshirt and let his fingers slide past to reach the shirt under it, too. It was a practiced motion, one they’d had down pat by the time they were early twenty-somethings and in need of finding the fastest way to get their clothes off when trying to fit hookups into their threadbare pockets of time. This, a decade later, felt just as urgent as that.
Shane was bare from the waist up in record time, and Ilya took a moment to be greedy. Shane was impatiently pulling on Ilya’s Adidas long sleeve (‘You know you don’t have to be a stereotype, right? You can wear Reebok, too.’ ‘Shane, I told you a thousand times, I am Russian so I must wear Adidas. Is my duty.’) and Ilya was interfering with sloppy kisses to Shane’s chest.
“Ilya,” Shane complained on a tight breath. Ilya stopped momentarily, and Shane was about to celebrate the victory by ripping Ilya’s shirt off when—
“HaaHHD’DJSHuuh! Hh’DZSCHuuwh!”
Right onto Shane’s bare chest, but instead of wasting time by allowing Ilya to gather his bearings, he capitalized on the little cognitive hiccup and yanked Ilya’s shirt over his head. Lust could make a person overlook a lot of things, including having his husband’s sneezes spattered over his chest.
And now they were equally bare chested. Shane wasn’t winning, but they at least had equal footing. Then Ilya coughed a laugh and knuckled at his nose and said, “You—snnfsnnfff!—want me so bad,” and it didn’t feel very equal anymore.
Well, at least he got to stare at his shirtless husband now. And he also knew how he might be able to tip the scale in his favor this time.
He lifted himself from the couch and took a couple heel-to-toe steps back as he slid his hands past his pants. He pushed them down and grabbed himself through his boxer briefs, all while he kicked his pants to the side in what he hoped would be a shocking enough diversion of routine to make Ilya sweat.
Ilya watched with heavy eyes. His hands were bracing the cushion under him.
Shane slipped his fingers under the waistband of his briefs, adjusting his erection so the head of his cock slipped out and hit the open air. He felt a little silly, putting on a show he needed to sniffle his way through, but at least Ilya was sniffling too—with his mouth hung wide open. Shane let his head fall back with a slow groan, ghosting his fingertips over his still covered shaft.
—and that was when Ilya scrambled off the couch to get to him.
Ilya had his hands on Shane’s waist in an instant, grip nearly crushing as he toed Shane backwards in slow, pointed steps. Their stomachs were touching, Shane’s cock trapped between them and Ilya coercing them into moving like they were a single entity.
Ilya was close, the sliver of space between their lips so small there was hardly enough room for their stuffy breaths. The side of Ilya’s nose was pressed against Shane’s, and he felt like he might sneeze again, but he forgot why that ever mattered.
Ilya advanced still, until Shane’s back pressed against the frigid floor-to-ceiling window facing their backyard. He made a sound, a soft mmhf at the sudden thunk, and he knew there was nowhere left for Ilya to push. He chanced a glance, just a flick of his eyes up to meet Ilya’s, and felt appeased when Ilya stole his mouth in a kiss.
His lips were so plush and warm and gentle, Shane had the urge to barrel forward with his teeth. Love could be funny like that, sometimes making violence feel like the answer to tenderness. Or maybe it was just that tenderness whetted an appetite, and Shane was only human. All animal, respectively.
“Hheh’ISHHuh! Sor-sooorrh-ihh’HISHHeuh!” He barely had the sense to pull out of the kiss before he sneezed, but instinct luckily took over. Sneezing into Ilya’s mouth would have been a step too far for him, even this far gone. Instead he directed them over Ilya’s shoulder at the last second, shivering as he was pulled from the daze of a well earned kiss. The window was freezing against his back, what with snow sticking to the ground outside, and it was doing something strange to his nose to have the weather creeping into his skin. “Heh! H’IISHHehw-heh’ISHH’NG’uhh!”
“Ooh, sorry, malysh. Is too cold, yes?” Ilya took a quick step back and brought Shane with him, keeping them belly to belly, as if they might not survive the winter otherwise. He rubbed warm hands down Shane’s goosefleshed back, pulling a few pleased shivers out of Shane, and pressed a couple steady kisses to the corner of his mouth. “We should go to the bedroom. Will be much warmer.”
“Yeah, good idea.” Shane couldn’t stop sniffling, and really, neither could Ilya. “Need some tissues, anyway.”
He considered picking up his clothes left in front of the couch, but his nose really was running. The spilling over his philtrum kind, which he hated, and his cock was still hard and mocking him, twitching and pulling the waistband of his briefs with it—which he hated, too.
Which is why he didn’t say anything when Ilya dropped trou right there, bare naked with Shane still pressed up against him in front of the window, and carefully toe-step-toe-stepped them off. He let Ilya drag him along, clothes forgotten on the floor because they’d still be there later for Shane to bitch about. He could set himself and all his particularities aside to make room for Ilya and his messes, and the way he was wet-nose-kissing his neck again.
They didn’t separate until they reached the bed, which Shane tried to point out was where they were actually supposed to touch, but Ilya shushed him and pushed him back onto the mattress with a smile. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of Shane’s briefs and pulled them off in a quick, clean swoop—but hey, Shane had at least helped by lifting his hips. It mattered, that they were a team at home too.
“You need tissue, yes?” Ilya had a twisted smile on him, the kind that made Shane’s toes curl in sometimes great and sometimes not so great (terrifying) ways. It was a smile he used for threats; when he threatened to suck Shane dry, when he threatened to break a rival's nose for checking Shane too hard into the boards.
“Uh… Yeah,” Shane said warily. “Please.”
Ilya hovered over Shane, leaning in to press a soft, chaste kiss against his forehead. It was a diversion, a clever one that let Shane’s guard down just enough so Ilya could wipe Shane’s nose with his briefs still clutched in his hand. Shane jerked his head sideways and scrubbed the back of his hand against his nose like that might do anything to take the action back.
“Christ, Ilya! That’s fucking gross.”
“Sorry, you would like it better if it was my dirty underwear, huh? Sexier that way.” Ilya brought Shane’s briefs to his nose, the same ones he’d just used to wipe up Shane, and blew his nose into them like it was some fucked up competition.
“Stop fucking around—“
“Mmh, I think you like it.” Ilya finally dropped the briefs, which Shane made a note to toss in the trash later (or burn, or throw in the trash and burn the whole trash can), and prowled his way on top of Shane until they were chest to chest with Ilya’s nose brushing over freckles. “At least, he does.” Ilya rutted his hips against Shane, sliding their cocks together. “He likes it very much.”
“It’s—ahh—you’re just—mmhh…“
“Just? Just so sexy you want to sniff my underwear like pervert?”
“Fuck off! No way.”
“My underwear holds my dick, your mouth holds my dick, why not have your mouth hold my underwear?” Ilya held Shane’s gaze, and Shane didn’t back down, keeping an irritated glare. “Ahh, you’re no fun. Fine, get your tissue. Blow your nose like a…” Ilya motioned in the air as he pivoted his knee against the mattress to sit beside Shane. “Like a… What is that thing? David says a lot. Model…”
“Model citiz—uh… Maybe don’t bring up my dad when we’re about to have sex.” Shane frowned and craned his body sideways, just enough to finger-grip the corner of the tissue box. He inched it into his hand and pulled the entire thing back with him, yanking out exactly two tissues so he could fold them over and properly blow his nose. “We should keep this in reach… M’going to need more of them.”
“Whatever you want.” Ilya smoothed his palm along Shane’s shoulder, massaging circles into his trap with his thumb. “Now can I fuck you?”
Shane, momentarily, was at a loss because yeah, he still wanted to be fucked, but there was a lull in the energy after all the shivering and the brief-blowing and god—even his dad. But if he looked at the facts, he was still hard and Ilya’s dick looked ready to shoot off.
(Which was hot, sure, but it also pissed him off because why did he go all jelly-boned and blood-down-south when Ilya felt his forehead and sounded sick, while Ilya seemed to get off on testing his limits—except, really, that did something to Shane too, so…)
Ilya smirked. “You look like you want to eat me.”
And damn it, he did.
Because truthfully, Shane liked to make Ilya laugh. Not the kind of laugh when he was two seconds away from a one-two-punch, when his mouth would curl and his laugh sounded more like an angry spit. He liked making Ilya laugh with teeth on display and cheeks flushed with that cherry-tint joy, and so maybe Shane had to be the punchline sometimes, if only because Ilya loved teaching Shane that embarrassment didn’t always have to be kept close. It could happen, and then it could pass, and he would be okay.
There was just no good reason for Shane to feel embarrassed when Ilya loved and loved and loved.
Ilya seemed to understand when Shane suddenly croaked, “I love you.”
They were a mess of limbs in an instant, opening their mouths in a wild, untamable greed. Their recycled breaths, one chest to another—between the two of them, they probably weren’t getting enough oxygen, which Shane would use as the excuse for how he kept kissing the corner of Ilya’s mouth when he barely turned his head to sneeze (hHR’SCHUUuh!).
If only the brain were advanced enough to take orders from someone desperate enough, if only a person could pick and choose when to see everything in slow motion. If Shane had a choice, every breath would be draggingly slow, every touch would be felt with such sharpness he would be able to pinpoint every inch of his skin and the corresponding touch. Instead, he was a mess of gasps and shivers and heat pooling in his belly, and it made it all so hard to keep a single cognitive thought.
It came in blurry snapshots, of hip bones grinding into each other and sniffly kisses left sticky on every possible inch of skin, of being lifted and deposited nearer to the head of the bed, with a pillow so thoughtfully tucked under his sacrum while his legs were forced to bend above him.
Ilya’s mouth was scribing, writing his hunger straight down Shane’s torso with his tongue and marking it further with teeth. Shane took hold of one of his own legs, freeing Ilya’s to roam his chest and grab greedy palmfuls of muscle. Shane’s cock was jumping on his stomach, the head of it staring straight at him from this angle and begging to be touched, but he couldn’t remember how to move his other hand from its clenched grasp in the sheets. It was his only anchor as Ilya moved his mouth down.
“HhDT’ZSCHHT!”
Shane felt it on his balls first, a strange wisp of cool air barely escaping past clenched teeth like Ilya had at least actually tried to stop the sneeze from escaping.
“HuUH’DZSCHuueh! HaAH’DJSHhuuh’zZDJSHOoh!”
Now he felt them on his inner thigh, leaving behind a dampness that cooled in a way he could pretend was made from hungry kisses. It was funny, the way his cock lurched at the thought. Perhaps being sneezed on wasn’t the worst thing. He wasn’t going to add it to the list or anything, but they did have the same cold, and he never cowered in the face of having Ilya’s saliva kissed onto every inch of him, and half his DNA was probably fused with Ilya’s by now if the past thirteen years had anything to show for it—
“Oh, fuck—”
His hips jumped involuntarily, Ilya’s tongue slipping lazy circles around his rim. He felt like a live wire, fraying at the ends and sparking with electricity that just needed somewhere to go. Ilya passed his tongue with variation—in fat strips, wet and smooth; in agonizingly slow, firm pushes; in wet kisses that felt like suction.
Shane settled into it, raising his hips to meet Ilya’s mouth because fuck, Ilya always made him feel like he was allowed to take and take and take.
(His entire history of learning about [good] sex and understanding how it could feel like this, was with the man between his legs. This was the man who first taught him how to take fingers down his throat, how to arch on a face and not worry himself to death over the probability of suffocation by ass.)
“Hh’DSZCHuhh! Hh’ADZSCHUuh! RRH’SCHOoh!”
With the angle, Ilya’s nose bumped right into Shane’s taint, an uneven and regrettably short-lived rhythm with each sneeze. It left Shane crying out in surprise and absolute delirious praise. It was so overwhelming it made him shiver all the way to his fingertips, hardly noticing as he sneezed around wanton moans.
“Mmnh’iSHHeuh—ohmygod-ohgod-ohh’TSHh’h’IH’shhuh!”
(Fuck it, sneezing could go on the list, too.)
Ilya growled, a dangerous sound Shane could always clock as meaning he was about to get his ass split and handed to him. Shane gave a distressed groan when Ilya’s mouth pulled away from him, but it choked in his throat when Ilya grabbed his cock in a loose hold. His thumb rubbed the underside of it gently, and it was too dry but too good to do anything about it other than let him.
“Open.” Ilya’s voice sounded wrecked, a little congested and thoroughly thick with the heaviness arousal brought on. Ilya shoved two fingers into his mouth, and he sucked instinctively. “Mmh, good.”
Ilya pushed his fingers deeper, pressing down on the back of Shane’s tongue and nearly choking him. Shane forced his tongue up, separating Ilya’s fingers wide and swirling his tongue around them. Ilya looked positively ready to reward—or punish—him for it.
“Hh’k!”
Shane tried to pull away, nostrils flaring wide and him struggling to breathe with Ilya finger-fucking his mouth, but Ilya doubled down and curled his fingers on either side of his bite. His thumb pressed firmly under Shane’s chin, and the hand on his cock squeezed. Shane’s eyes rolled back automatically.
“No.” Ilya said it firmly, a command. “Stay.”
“Hhg’SHHngh! HhG’gshhngh!”
It was a power play, probably, because then Ilya’s fingers were out of his mouth and touching his rim, one bravely prodding past the tight ring of muscle. And Shane didn’t have time to be mad when—
“Fuck! Fuck, please—“
Ilya worked his fingers faster than usual, already knuckle deep and spreading him. Ilya’s hand moved from his cock to the back of Shane’s knee, forcing his hips to rock back again. Shane, mouth hanging open, gripped hold of his own cock to hold it still or hold himself back or just to hold for the sake of it because exactly what is he supposed to do when—
“HhaAH-HAH’DSCHHuh!”
Ilya’s fingers crooked when he sneezed, forcing the tips of them so hard against Shane’s prostate he thought he might die. He might die like this, with words stuck in the back of his sore and scratchy throat, with his nose running and and his eyes squeezed tightly shut in silent, excruciating ecstasy.
“You like?”
And fuck him, because how was he supposed to answer that with his throat so tight and head so gone. He dragged a breath, wheezing and desperate, willing himself to stop writhing in search of more.
Ilya took his fingers out. “Answer me.”
If he thought he had been close to death before, this was something beyond it. This was incoherence, this was being at the edge of bliss and having it ripped from you and left empty. It was worse than death, a searching amble through purgatory with every other place just out of reach—and sorely missed. It was yearning for anything.
“I like, I like, I fucking like, please just—aahh—“
“Yes? Just?”
“Fuck me, please, fuck me, I-need-you-in-me!”
Ilya had a bottle of lube already in his hand (procured by magic was Shane’s guess, but he’d been flying halfway to another dimension), squirting a generous amount. He felt what he assumed to be the ministrations of Ilya slicking himself up, and then the gentle, delicious push of thick head against his entrance. He went in surprisingly easy, Shane’s body opening up in welcome.
“Hheh! Heh’ISHHeuh!”
Shane sneezed, and Ilya let out a wounded noise.
“FUCK—do that again.”
Shane had sneezed, of all the things he could have done, and Ilya asked him to do it again.
“Wha—Ilya, what, what are you—“ He felt frantic, fingers gripping Ilya’s shoulders so tight he might leave marks. Shane was ready to be filled to the brim and Ilya was tense and still, asking him to sneeze. He hooked his hands behind Ilya’s neck and pulled him down closer, to which Ilya had to brace his elbows against the bed as he hovered, red-faced, right over Shane. “Fuck me, god, just fuck me.”
“You—feel so fucking good. When you sneeze. Is like…” Ilya moved again, a slow pull out and in, and groaned. “Feel fucking tight.”
Shane wasn’t sure he understood, but Ilya was fucking him again, and that was all that mattered. Slowly, enough that he could practically feel the details of Ilya’s cock against the sensitive walls inside him. He rolled his hips, matching Ilya’s pace and letting a stream of nonsensical sounds fall out of him.
“HHURHh’ISSCHUuh!” That landed on Shane’s shoulder, and simultaneously sent Ilya’s hips snapping forward in a much harder, deeper thrust. “HUH’DZSHUh!”
So maybe Shane didn’t understand what Ilya had liked about Shane sneezing while inside him, but Shane certainly could get behind Ilya sneezing again when it made him fuck so hard.
Ilya drew his hips back and thrust his cock back in, intentionally this time. Shane’s lower half felt somehow numb and on fire, his swollen cock trapped between their bellies as Ilya fucked him more and more and harder, with the head of his dick pressing Shane’s prostate as he went in and passing over it in luscious thrusts.
“Oh god,” Shane rasped. He clutched at the back of Ilya’s neck, fingers twisting in sweat damp curls and pulling hard in an effort to gain some semblance of control. He wanted to stop his back from bowing, from angling his hips any further away from the perfect rhythm Ilya was keeping, but the pressure of Ilya’s abs on his cock was near impossible to resist. “Holy shit, I can’t—“ His groans evolved, changing shape as he came further undone, leaving him a mess of husky whimpers and shaking limbs. He turned his head, hiding his cheek against the sheets when he let out a particularly loud whine.
Ilya wouldn’t stand for it. He stole Shane’s mouth in a kiss, bringing him back, and mumbled hysterically into his mouth, “Stay, stay, because your nose—so red, and fuck, so cute—and freckles—make your face look… nngh, like beach… with sunset, and—oh god—need to look—“
Ilya didn’t sound far behind, or maybe Shane had the race backwards entirely. Maybe Ilya was closer, or maybe there wasn’t any finishing line at all. Ilya sounded positively insane, like he could barely form a coherent thought. And Shane only half understood what Ilya meant about his red nose and his freckles and sunsets, but it sounded and felt so good coming from his mouth, muttered into Shane’s. It sounded like Ilya was in a place of worship, like perhaps alters weren’t the only place you should get down on your knees and beg, and that made Shane feel like a god.
“HUDT-DZSCHuuh! RRH’SCHUuh!”
Ilya’s sneezes misted Shane’s cheek and Shane felt fucked to heaven and hell and—god, Mordor, for all he knew. But he did know he was flying from his body, the frantic pull of a universe he’d never been, and he needed Ilya’s mouth to bring him back. He grabbed Ilya’s face, palms on cheeks and fingers gripping his scalp, and kissed him hard. His balls pulled tight and his cock jumped angrily between their stomachs, spilling wet and hot and sticky. He gasped his breaths and groans with his tongue in Ilya’s mouth.
He was still shuddering through his orgasm when a sudden, sharp jolt pricked high in his nose. Sneezing after coming happened sometimes (he’d heard from Hayden, something about seeing an article on it and it being some kind of neural something-or-other.), but it had never happened to him. And not with Ilya still inside of him.
“Heh-fuuuuck’ISSHOoh! Hh’iishh’ISSHeuh’ISHhoo!”
He could feel it, coming back to his body now, the way he clenched around Ilya’s length. He felt how Ilya pulsed in response, and then Ilya groaned tight and high and stuttered, slamming into him and stilling.
Ilya collapsed on top of him after, effectively stealing the breath from Shane, both of them sagging with tired hurrumph’s. Their chests heaved together, pressing into each other in a seesaw sort of synchronization, with Shane’s chest up when Ilya’s went down, and vice versa. Their hearts pounded in tandem, trying to burst out of them and lay plainly on the sheets beside them like a reminder that they were still there, the hearts behind it all.
They laughed.
It was light at first, just breathy little chuckles of disbelief, and then it morphed into belly deep laughing, and holding each other through it.
Shane wiped at his eyes, tearing from both his cold and the laughter. “What the fuck was that?”
“I don’t know.” Ilya laughed again, lifting his head and grinning with boyish joy. Shane couldn’t help but kiss him again, a gentle peck. “But I fucking love it.”
“Mmh, yeah. Me too, actually.”
Ilya got up and stumbled into the bathroom. Shane could hear the shower turn on but he stayed on his back, still trembling through glowing aftermath, little vibrations easing through him even when Ilya came back and wiped him off with a warm, damp cloth. It cooled his skin and made him shiver, full bodied this time, and in turn made him sneeze.
“Huh’ISSHeuh! Heh! H’ISSH’uh!”
“Bless you.” Ilya held out his hand. “Get up. Shower is warm now.”
They showered together, lazy touches and lazier kisses as they washed their sweat (and germs) down the drain. They were both shivering as they took turns towel drying each other’s hair, teeth chattering and soft sniffles punctuating the sleepy silence they had settled into.
Once finished, Ilya patted Shane’s ass through the towel looped around his waist. “Wear your Christmas pajamas. The thick ones, or else maybe you get worse.”
“You’re one to talk. Wear yours, too.” They had matching ones, from the Christmas before when Ilya had insisted.
They both wore more clothes to bed that night than usual. Shane could count on two hands the number of times they had gone to bed with both of them covered limb to limb. The chill of early December didn’t usually stop them from needing to be skin to skin, but this shared cold made it trickier.
They settled under the blankets together, with Ilya on his back and Shane curled into his chest. Ilya’s hand crawled under Shane’s fleece shirt until he was up to his elbow in it, hand flat between his shoulder blades. Shane’s hand slid under Ilya’s matching shirt, until his arm was resting over his stomach and his hand was cupping over prominent lats.
Sleepy and sated, Shane didn’t feel the need to pull away when he sneezed a soft, “Heh’isshuuh!” At the same time, Ilya wrenched forward, over Shane’s head with a stronger, “HAh’DZSHOoh!”
“Bless you,” Shane muttered, while Ilya said in perfect synchronization, “Bud’zdorov.”
It set off a war of blessings.
“À tes souhaits.”
“Gesundheit.”
Shane scoffed. “You don’t even speak German.”
Ilya raised a brow. “But I know Gesundheit.”
“Okay, then, salud."
“Uz veselibu.”
“What’s that one?”
“From Latvia.”
Shane balked. “How do you even know that—“
“I am smart, Shane. And Latvia is a neighbor country. To Russia.”
“Yeah, but… Russia’s huge.”
“And Canada is sooo close to Mexico, Mr. Salud?”
“Okay, go to hell.”
“Hah! So you lose.”
“No, that’s my blessing. Go to hell. I’m gonna say that next time you sneeze.”
That made Ilya wheeze a laugh, which then made Shane playfully thwack his palm against his side. They settled again, Ilya still punctuating the calm quiet with sleepy, adoring chuckles, and Shane smiling into his chest.
Unfortunately, between the two of them, Shane was the first to sneeze next. “Hheh! Heh’iSHHeuh!”
“Go to hell, Shane.”
“Oh, fuck you!”
a/n: as you can see, I’m thoroughly confused about how I want to use parentheses and italics :’)
now I understand the power of writing porn. I wanted it to go on forever!!! I couldn’t stop!!! I grappled over just how many ways I could write he snz and moan like a whore and snz again without it becoming more redundant than it already is. I guess everyone deserves to cum in the end amiright
this is so ridiculously horny. if I thought fluff could pull emotions out of me, ho boy! whatever this is, I’m gonna live in it now.
also, what is the least cringey way to write ass eating? I have no idea but I refuse to write ‘fluttering hole’ and I would like some more alternatives to it.
double also, what would you write if they’re wearing boxer briefs? just keep saying boxer briefs? boxers? briefs? undies (lol)? let me know your thoughts
you are here and don't want to be or want the links removed or would like slashes inserted etc.
Last updated: 3/8/26
A -----------------------------------------------------------
anon(s?) via @perseaphoneaa
Anxious Human Writes Story and Selfishly Makes It Another Human's Problem Ilya, unknown
I/lya being allergic as hell to S/hanes citrus shower gel Ilya, allergies
B -----------------------------------------------------------
@bl3ssvous
compilation Ilya, various, ~1k
@bless-you-babe
Maybe part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 Shane, sick
@blesser-in-disguise
All-Subpar Game part 1, part 2 Ilya & Shane, sick; 5.5k, 7.6k
drive me to distraction (or the cottage (preferably the cottage)) Ilya & Shane, allergies, 6.4k
Unexpected Interference Ilya, sick, 6.6k
C -----------------------------------------------------------
@cutenose
Give Me Your Nose Shane, cold
F -----------------------------------------------------------
@feverfcking
The Horrifying Ordeal of Being Known part 1 Shane, cold, 4k
Make it Better Ilya, cold, 5k
H -----------------------------------------------------------
@hollanovsnz (tysm for the masterlist!)
An (Un)healthy Scratch Shane, cold
Bunny Shane, allergies
Headspace Ilya, allergies
Hazards of Our Occupation part 1, part 2 Ilya, various
It’s You part 1, part 2, part 3 Shane, various
H/R One-Shot #1 Shane, cold
H/R One-Shot #2 Shane, cold
H/R One-Shot #3 Ilya, cold, 2.1k
Ilya w a cold part 1 Ilya, cold
Oh Babe, I Hate to Go part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 Ilya & Shane, cold
Oh, Those Russians Ilya, allergies
Quiet part 1, part 2 Ilya, cold
@hurt-care
Untitled (Ilya with a cold, set during his time in Ottawa while Shane still plays in Montreal) part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 Ilya & Shane, cold
I -----------------------------------------------------------
@itchyandtwitchy
allergic!S/hane with kink-ish I/lya (rewrite of Moscow phone call) Shane, allergies
I/lya with a constantly itchy nose rubbing it against S/hane during sex because his hands are otherwise occupied Ilya, allergies, 3.8k
@ithadtobesneezing
honeymoon Shane, honeymoon rhinitis
K -----------------------------------------------------------
@kushamixotwod
S/hane H/ollander x I/lya R/ozanov set in the Vegas hotel scene Ilya, scent sensitivity
L -----------------------------------------------------------
@lavsnz
the first time Shane sees Ilya sneeze Ilya, unknown
ilya & sneezing in the centaurs locker room (after shane joins the team) Ilya, unknown
ilya & the handkerchiefs Shane, cold, 1.4k
mics & a head cold Shane, cold, 2.3k
@lilies-and-hyacinths
Off the Record Ilya, allergies
@lipsmind
h/ayden being grossed out by i/lya’s sneezes Ilya, sick
I/lya at morning practice on game day Ilya, cold
P -----------------------------------------------------------
@perseaphoneaa
prompt: Delayed and confused-sounding “bless you”s after a singular sneeze from a person who is a chronic multiple-sneezer because everyone was just waiting for more to follow Ilya, unknown
I/lya having the nastiest, messiest sneezing fit in the locker room after his first practice with the Centaurs. Ilya, unknown
Untitled Ilya, allergies
@poetic-illness
Photic Senses part 1, part 2 Ilya, photic
Untitled Ilya, sick, 0.9k
R -----------------------------------------------------------
@rozsnz
bad luck Ilya, flu, 2.9k
copycat Ilya & Shane, cold, 2.7k
one thing after another Ilya, cold and allergies, 3.3k
pucks & tissues Ilya, cold, 5.1k
rudolph Shane, allergies, 1.9k
so easy Ilya, various, 6.3k
S -----------------------------------------------------------
@silentsneezes (ty for masterlist!)
Blessed with Rivalry Ilya, various, 4.1k
Idiot part 1 Shane, flu, 5.5k
@silklined
Versus part 1, part 2 Ilya & Shane, cold
@sleptwithinthesun
ask: before the cottage I/lya injured his ribs a little… + realizes that he is really allergic to something around the cottage Ilya, allergies, 3.1k
ask: i/lya has a cold/allergies whatever, but he absolutely refuses to take the pill form of medicine Ilya, cold, 2.1k
ask: I/lya plays in a canadian location for the first time and it make him really sneezy during the game and in the locker room too Ilya, allergies, 4.2k
ask: shane finding ilya standing on the balcony of the hotel room, smoking a cigarette and trying to squash down the symptoms of his cold Ilya, cold, 2.2k
ilya stifling Ilya, unknown, 1.8k
@smallandsneezy
itchy Ilya, allergies, 1.65k
softie Ilya, allergies
so sensitive Shane, allergies, 1.7k
to be cared for Ilya, cold
@sneezeace1
photic!Ilya on the red carpet Ilya, photic
@sneezydreamgirl
Hysterical and Useless part 1, part 2, part 3 Shane, sick
@snifflybabe
greedy Shane, allergies
In Sickness and In Health Ilya, sick
Untitled Ilya, sick
@snottysnz
a messy mouthful Ilya, cold, 0.7k
don't feel good Shane, cold, 0.2k
itchy Ilya, allergies, 0.5k
kinky little secret Shane, flu, 1.4k
Untitled Ilya, cold
Untitled Shane, cold
@snzity
A sneeze attack over facetime?! Ilya, allergies, 2k
Double the Misery Ilya & Shane, cold/flu, 4k+
Ilya doesn’t show up to practice because he’s sick, and Troy is the one who calls him to inquire Ilya, cold
First time Ilya sees Shane sneeze Shane, unknown
First time Shane sees Ilya sneeze Ilya, unknown
Second time Shane sees Ilya sneeze Ilya, unknown
Third time Shane sees Ilya sneeze Ilya, unknown
@snzivore
prompt: on a family vacation and I/lyas allergies are insane part 1 Ilya, allergies
@stormysnz
Growing on Me Ilya, various, 5.6k
T -----------------------------------------------------------
@themiseryandcompany
untethered; his teeth ache with it | Shane, cold, 3.7k
S/hane has a cold and keeps stifiling his sneezes. I/lya gets them out.
CW: inducing, slight mess, nose blowing
"hhchttt! htxchhh!"
Shane sneezed twice, pinching his nose shut. He exhaled carefully as he lay back into the bed, against Ilya.
Despite knowing each other for nearly a decade, they hadn't had much experience with illness. Except for one time years ago, Ilya remembered, he'd shown up at Hollander's-Shane's hotel room with a mess of a cold.
They just wouldn't kiss on the lips that night, they'd decided. A rule Shane broke himself not 5 minutes later. They never talked about it but Ilya watched the next Metros game. They lost.
But now that they were boyfriends, since their trip to the cottage just a few months ago, things would be different.
"hihhh!"
Hearing Shane's sudden gasp snapped ilyas attention back to the present moment. Shane's stupid painful little sneezes. This cold had been full of them. It drove Ilya crazy the way his squashed them down. There was no way he could really clear his stuffed up sinuses like that.
"hhhTChhtt!" His face scrunched up. His hand rose up to pinch his nose for the second "TCHTT!"
Shane's eyebrows remained furrowed for a moment until he slowly exhaled again. He was sure to give himself a headache if he kept this up! Ilya decided enough was enough.
"Give me your nose."
"What?"
"Your nose. Give to me." He reaches over and pulls Shane's face to him. His nose scrunches in response.
"You will sneeze properly. I will do it for you" He traced his finger down to the tip of his boyfriend's nose. "Okay?" Ilya looked up to see Shane nod.
Hmm
He started lightly tracing around Shane's nostrils to gage how sensitive this cold was making him. He sniffed lightly.
Ilya then pressed his knuckle just under the tip of Shane's nose and pushed up ever so slightly.
"Oh! ahhh" Shane's response indicated it was working. Ilya pushed up just a little more and started moving in small circles.
"HEHTTCH-shiew.... HHTGCH-sshh"
Ilya gently wiped Shane's nose with his fingers and asked "again?"
What was this? Had Shane stifled so much he couldn't even let it out if he tried? Ilya was even more determined.
"If you think it'll help..." Shane sniffled. The way he said it pulled on Ilya's heartstrings.
He pressed his finger back under the tip of Shane's nose and repeated the motions. Unfortunately this time it only brought about a few stuffy gasps. Ilya would have to try something else.
He gently wiped Shane's nose again with his fingers and pulled a tissue out of the box. Ilya then started rolling the corner of the tissue into a thin strand, very carefully with his large hands.
"We will try this. Tickle from inside." Shane looked a little apprehensive but agreed. Anything to get rid of this congestion.
Ilya's face looked as determined as he usually looked scoring a goal on the ice as he inserted the rolled up tissue into Shane's nostril. The effect was immediate.
"hehh HAHH HAADTCH-shiew!" Ilya pulled the tissue out. Even though the irritant had been removed, Shane still had to sneeze a second time. "HAHHTCH-shhh!" Ilya could hear his voice starting to come through in these sneezes. Closer.
"You want more, yes?" Shane nodded.
Ilya rolled up another corner of the tissue and inserted it into Shane's other nostril this time. The back of his hand pressed against Shane's nose.
"Ohh! Ahh haahhhh" it was working, but Ilya wasn't going to let him half stifle his sneezes again. It would have to tickle so bad he had no choice but to let it out. He circled the tissue around his nostril again and again. Shane's eyes were squeezed shut. Ilya pushed the tissue in just a little deeper when Shane gasped hard. He quickly pulled it out in time for-
"HAHHHTCH'SHIIEW!... HUHHHSHUE!"
"Bud zordov!" It was finally working! Ilya smiled as Shane geared up for a third?!
"AAHHCHOO!"
It almost sounded fake, but the wall of congestion hiding below those beautiful freckles had broken. Ilya handed Shane several fresh tissues for him to blow his nose.
After a moment, well several moments and tissues later, Shane blinked "wow that actually... felt really good. I can see why you do that all the time."
Ilya laughed and kissed him. He knew he could make his lover feel better!
i/lya was on his knees, about to take s/hane in his mouth, when he was caught off guard by a sneeze. a sneeze that came on much too quickly, a sneeze he couldn't cover in time, a sneeze that sprayed all over s/hane's cock. "HH'ITZSHHCHEW!" i/lya saw it twitch in response. "fuck rozy" s/hane moaned, "do it again" he bucked his hips in the direction of i/lya's mouth. "you like that, don't you, moya lyubov?" i/lya purred, looking up at s/hane, whose eyes were rolling back in his head. "feels so good. please. please do it again." s/hane begged, and his cock hardened quickly. i/lya loved this side of him. he loved being the only one who saw this side of him. he loved being able to love s/hane exactly the way he wanted and needed to be loved. he loved that they didn't have to hide it from each other anymore.
"well, is your lucky day. i'm very sneezy. think i'm catching cold." i/lya sniffled, followed by a few sloppy kisses to s/hane's inner thigh. it was true; i/lya had woken up that morning knowing instantly that he was coming down with the cold that was making it's away through the team. his nose had been bothering him, more than usual, the last couple days, but this morning, his sinuses were completely blocked and his nose was tickling like mad. "as long as you promise to take care of your poor sick boyfriend after" i/lya teased him, rubbing his dripping nose against the tip of s/hane's throbbing cock. the canadian let out a loud moan, clearly flustered. "fuck i/lya, yes, i promise. please just fucking sneeze on my dick and suck it and then fuck the shit out of me. please. i need it." s/hane rambled on as i/lya's nose began to twitch.
i/lya squeezed both of s/hane's thighs as he felt the tickle getting stronger, his nose running, nostrils flaring. he leaned his head back, hoping s/hane was looking down at him, taking in this view. s/hane was, and he was absolutely loving the view. seeing i/lya on his knees in any context got him all worked up, but seeing him like this... a mess. his nose red, running and flaring. about to sneeze. about to sneeze on him. and then he heard it. and felt it. the wet spray hitting his aching cock, and then another, and another, and another. 4. 4 fucking beautiful wet sneezes, all over his cock. then he felt i/lya's warm wet mouth wrap around him, taking him in deep, and fast. i/lya was not one to waste time, especially when he knew how close s/hane was. "fuck i/lya" s/hane put a fist to his mouth, muffling his moans. he had no reason to be quiet, they were completely alone at the cottage. it was still habit after so many years of secrets and having to be quiet, s/hane was still getting used to some aspects of their relationship. "let me hear you scream my name, moya lyubov." i/lya mumbled with s/hane's cock in his mouth, "tell me how good i make you feel" i/lya went back to sucking and s/hane did as he was told. he removed his fist from his mouth and grabbed a fistful of i/lya's perfect golden curls. his other hand gripping the bed sheets so tightly he swears he might tear a hole in them "fuck i/lya. fuck that feels so good. yes i/lya. oh yah. yes. just. like. that. feels so fucking good. always make me feel so fucking good. i/lya. more." s/hane wasn't even sure what he was saying at this point, he was too lost in the heat of the moment. "gonna s-s-s-" i/lya's breath hitched, "s-s-sdeeEEIIHYYSHHICHEW HHIICHHSCHOO HIIH’NKXSHH" i/lya quickly pulled his mouth off s/hane for a spilt second to sneeze wetly on the cock in front of him, before going right back to it. shane was seeing stars. "fuck i/lya i'm cumming" he thrusted up into i/lya's throat and screamed out in pleasure as he came, hard. i/lya sucked hard, and swallowed every last drop of his boyfriend's release. his own cock rock solid now and needing attention. he loved getting s/hane off, it made him so hot seeing him get all worked up, especially over his sneezes. his perfect little freak. i/lya wiped his mouth and nose with the back of his hand and climbed up onto the bed so he was hovering over s/hane, who was glistening with sweat. he looked so beautiful. "you did so good." he kissed s/hane's neck, "i fuck you now?" he rubbed his cock against s/hane's thigh, indicating that he was in need of some release of his own. "how do you want me?" s/hane panted and smirked.
S/hane H/ollander x I/lya R/ozanov (H/eated R/ivalry)
•Do not reblog to non-snz blogs!!•
Set in the Vegas hotel scene before they admit their feelings for each other, instead we will fast-pedal into Il/ya finding out S/hane’s turn-on.
I ended up writing S/hane as a very shy and anxious sneeze fetishist from the mid 2010’s, and Il/ya’s sensitive to strong scents, and I’m hinting at pollen allergies too though I never mention it. Just know it’s there. Alright. By the end there’s no sneeze, just fluff. Also I haven’t written any fanfiction in literal years.
1.4k words ❤️
Shane Hollander texted “Lily” his room number, and was patiently awaiting his arrival. He was gifted a new cologne in exchange for a Dior brand endorsement, and decided to spray some on his skin. It was quite strong, and he regretted putting more than one spray on. Hopefully Ilya wouldn’t mind.
He went back and forth in his head, trying to decide if he should shower it all off and just go natural, but his thoughts were cut short when he got a knock at his door.
Shane cleared his throat before he opened the door and pulled Ilya in his suite. He noticed the blond pull his wrist away from his noticeably pink-ish nose when the door opened.
‘So cute..’ he thought, but began to brush the feeling off quickly. Ilya walked through the door and Shane locked it behind them. Ilya walked towards Shane. They stared into each other’s glossy, tired eyes, and that said all they needed to hear. The two leaned in and passionately kissed and caressed each other’s bodies.
Finally, they were alone again. The pair hated how they would have to go months without seeing each other, while barely communicating at all during the breaks. Shane hated to admit it, but he misses Ilya quite often, and wants to continue to see him throughout his life.
••••••••••
Shane didn’t watch porn. He didn’t like the average, explicit, penetrative-sex videos on sketchy websites. His only porn destination was YouTube, where he could find a plethora of sneeze fetish content. He’s had his secret YouTube channel for over a decade, and his videos were perfectly tailored to his preferences of sneezing. Shane is a fan of male, wet, rapid sneezing, as well as stifle attempts. He felt the need to keep this taboo fetish under wraps, because if someone found out, it would weird them out so hard, that the person would never love them and leave forever.
For that reason, he’s never planned out how he’s going to eventually confess his biggest turn-on to somebody.
Shane was drowning in his racing thoughts that he couldn’t hear or feel Ilya’s breath start to catch. He was not ready for the sudden wet spray that fell onto his arm. Ilya couldn’t turn away fast enough. “hhEhK-KSXCHhh-uhh!..”
The two were pressed against each other. Shane sensed more blood rushing to his dick as he felt Ilya inhale shakily and let out a desperate, “hAH-TSChHHHiieh!!”
Shane hesitated for what felt like 30 minutes before looking down at the crumpled up Ilya leaning on his chest. He gulped before speaking softly.
“Bless you. Jesus, Rozy.. what’s wrong? Are you sick?”
Ilya adjusted his posture to be on Shane’s level again. “I was not like this before I got to your room.” He said bluntly.
Shane was blushing, anxious from the eye contact, like Ilya had infiltrated his mind and was finding out his secrets. He felt bold enough to ask a horny yet subtle question.
“What makes you sneeze? C-could it be just dusty in here?” Fuck. He stuttered. He’s so nervous to see this new side of Ilya.
Ilya subtly raised an eyebrow at the stutter, and rubbed at his nose with his wrist. “No. Maids keep hotels clean every day. It does not look dusty. That doesn’t make me itch.”
‘Make me itch.’ rang in Shane’s head a few times. The wording Ilya used was so perfect, it was sad he had no idea what it was doing to the Canadian man.
He swallowed again before asking, “You’re sick?”
Ilya shook his head and continued to poke and prod at his nose, now trying to coax a sneeze out rather than smother it away. His nose was turning a darker, much more irritated shade of pink. Shane was living for it. It made his dick start to rise in his pants. This was so embarrassing, maybe Ilya just won’t ask?
“hheh.. hh.. itX-XTTXCHhhiuh! heh-XcTchHHheuh!! You have new cologne? Trying something not boring, eh? HhEH-XTXCHHHUUU!! hAC-TXCHHIIuuh!” Ilya bent forward with shaky sneezes, which got Shane to be rock hard at this point. God, Ilya looked so good right now.
Shane took initiative and pulled Ilya’s shirt off, preceding him taking his own shirt off, and continued making out with the other man.
Shane guides Ilya to his bed. They pull away from a kiss and look at each other, the moonlight highlighting all of Ilya’s features. The Russian man moves his hand down Shane’s chest and lands on his bulge and caressed it, making Shane moan from the sudden pressure. Ilya’s face quickly contorts into a familiar confused look. His nostrils flare and his breath starts to hitch as he turns the blast zone away from Shane. “iihh-! itchy- hahH! Hhhah… rRrSSCCHH-ZCHOOOO! EH-TXZHHCHIIUUH!! HeH-TSZSSHHHIIUUhh!”
Ilya turned sheepishly to face Shane, an unfamiliar sight to see from the tough Russian man. He felt Shane’s underwear start soaking with precum, looked down, and looked back up and the Canadian man curiously.
“We haven’t even fucked yet, and you already came?”
Shane was quick to defend himself with no defense. “I didn’t cum!”
“I feel it, you did. Why did my sneezing make you cum and not me sucking your dick?”
Shane was frozen. He was living his nightmare in front of the man he loves most. Shane got the courage to have some words fall out of his mouth.
“W-We haven’t seen each other in so long, I missed you. And I haven’t been with anyone else so.. so that’s why I came so fast.” All of this was true, but Ilya still wasn’t accepting it.
“Is this kink for you?” Said Ilya boldly.
Shane couldn’t form words. There was a pit in his stomach and he felt like throwing up. Apparently he was shaking and didn’t notice until a comforting hand was placed on his shoulder.
“Hollander.” Ilya looked him in the eyes, trying to ease him with his soothing tone. Shane’s face stayed resembling a deer in headlights.
Ilya leaned his head on Shane’s shoulder and talked facing his chest. “Strong smells I am powerless to. Your new cologne is making me sneeze a lot. You-hhh..”
Shane watched the fast rise and fall of Ilya’s back as his breath caught. Oh my god is this really happening right now?? The blond sniffles the hitch away and keeps talking.
“You should wash ihhh-ih..! It- uhh- hhuh… off. I neehhh.. needtosneeze-!” His breaths were rapid and desperate, gearing up to another fit. Shane had mixed feelings about being sneezed directly on by Ilya right now, but he mostly felt really good about it. Ilya moved his face up his chest and rested his nose on Shane’s shoulder. They both couldn’t hold back any longer, just the brush of skin was enough to set Ilya’s nose off. Shane grabbed Ilya’s hand and moved it to assist him in rubbing his dick.
“hEH-MMMPPPHH!!-TSSCCHCHHHuhh! hUh-TSCHHHhUU!! ehh-KSTCHHSHHHUUu!” Ilya muffled his sneezes against Shane’s body. Making Shane whimper out of horniness with a hint of germaphobe mixed in.
“Fuck, Rozanov.“ you are so hot right now please make me cum, my dick can’t take it anymore!! “Please, more…” Shane begged.
“This is wh.. what you like? Hohhh- Laah-HAHh!! HETT-TCHYUUUHH!! IH-TSCCHHOO” Ilya’s sneezes were getting wetter and more powerful. The tickle must be so intense in his nose, that thought nearly had Shane die right on the spot it was so sexy. Hearing Ilya hitch through saying his name was almost enough to push him over the edge.
Shane leaned into Ilya’s ear and hummed “Touch me.. please.. I want to cum so bad.” He begged, borderline whimpering.
Ilya put his hands on either side of Shane and had his back lean against the head frame. His nose was noticeably burning and prickling constantly. Ilya pulled Shane’s pants and underwear off and threw them off the bed. A part of Shane died inside and wished he could’ve folded them first, but he was so engrossed in this beautiful scenario playing out in front of him.
The sneezy Russian put his mouth around the tip of Shane’s penis and licked in a circle. Shane gripped the bed sheets, the pleasure was all too much. He needed release. Ilya took more of Shane into his mouth, and soon realized he couldn’t breathe through his nose.
He had to come back up and aggressively massage his nose to get the tickle to subside. As we and Shane all know, the aggressive rubbing only makes the need to sneeze ten times more powerful. The Canadian man whimpered lowly in anticipation for what was to come.
Ilya sniffled a few times after massaging his nose, the wet sound was intoxicating. His mouth fell open as he built up to another sneezing fit. He positioned himself looking down onto Shane’s lower body.
He tipped his head back to coax the sneezes out. “Hhollander. It itches, s-so.. so mhUuh-TSSCCHHHOOO! rRR-SSTTTSCCCHHHHUUUU!! hAH-TCCZHHH-eTTCCHHHH-HEH-rrTZZCCCHHHHOOOO!!” This fit ended with a rapid triple that had Ilya almost topple over and snap Shane’s hard dick in half. Ilya rolled over and lay next to Shane.
During Ilya’s intense fit, Shane hands-free ejaculated into the air/Ilya’s face and torso. He was moaning, shaking, and whimpering with pleasure, unlike usual. It was so beautiful that a fantasy like the porn he watches happened in real life. He was so happy and excited, he overlooked he was torturing the poor, stuffy-nose Russian.
Steadying his breathing, Shane looked over at Ilya who was rubbing his nose. Both of their faces were beet red, and Ilya’s nose was a darker shade. “That was.. weird, right? Are you okay?”
Ilya turned to face Shane with a serious and caring expression, but Shane couldn’t meet his eyes and looked away. “Is not.. ‘weird’, just different. I thought everybody felt that being sick was disgusting, but it makes you cum harder than I’ve ever seen you cum.”
Shane couldn’t stand to hear Ilya’s thoughts on the sex they just had any longer. The post-nut embarrassment hit him like a bus. He stood up and walked to his dresser to hand a box of tissues to Ilya. “I’m going to wash the cologne and cum off of both of us.” He held a hand out for Ilya and brought him to the bathroom. Ilya stripped out of his remaining clothes.
Shane turned the shower knobs on high so it could steam up the bathroom for Ilya’s sake.
Ilya was looking at himself in the mirror, examining his watery eyes, red drippy nose, and splotches of cum on his chest and neck. “There’s some Neosporin or Vaseline in there.. if your nose hurts.” Ilya opened the top drawer and rummaged to find Neosporin, coming across a blue snuff powder vile that said a word he didn’t even want to try to pronounce. He decided to ignore it for now, possibly bring it up later.
Steam from the shower started to cloud the room and unclog Ilya’s stuffy nose. A voice rang through his ear. “The water is hot enough, come here.” Ilya obliged and got in the shower with Shane.
Shane moved his hands along Ilya’s chest and back, spreading and massaging the hot water all over. Ilya sighed from the comforting touch and brought his face to the shower stream and washed all the gross off. Shane switched spots with Ilya and grabbed his body wash, thankfully the fragrance wasn’t so strong in this soap. Shane popped the bottle open and brought it to Ilya’s nose, making the blond instinctually lean back and raise an eyebrow.
“Is this soap too strong?” Shane asked in a sweet, caring tone. Ilya took it out of Shane’s hand and brought the bottle to his nose.
“I can’t smell it. It’s fine.”
‘Well, yeah, obviously you can’t smell anything after what I put you through.’ Shane thought.
Ilya poured some soap into his hands and handed it to Shane and he did the same. They lathered their bodies with it, as well as rubbing on each other’s bodies. Shane rinsed off first, then put Ilya under the hot water.
Shane squatted to be at Ilya’s dick level and looked up to meet the blond man’s eyes. Shane brought his hands to Ilya’s wet butt cheeks and gripped them as he took Ilya’s dick into his warm mouth. He closed his eyes to avoid the water splashing into them. Ilya put a hand on the wall and to steady himself as he indulged in Shane and the gentle taps of the steamy water on his back.
Shane bobbed his head back and forth, moving one hand up to grope Ilya’s pecs and pinch his sensitive nipples. That always did it for him. Shane looked up to see Ilya’s pleasure-filled expression, then tilting his head back. Ilya put a hand on Shane’s head and bobbed his head back and forth at the same pace. One time, Ilya did that and Shane got mad because he was pushing too fast for him.
Shane swirled his tongue around the shaft in his mouth and started to lick seductively on the most sensitive part of the dick. He could hear Ilya moan his last name as the Russian’s hand pushed back onto Shane’s head and had him deep throat before cumming into his mouth.
Shane’s eyes shot open after the dick was shoved so deep into the back of his throat. He slapped Ilya’s arm away and fell into his ass. He coughed and spat the cum out on the floor of the shower. This was 100 times more embarrassing than his fetish being found out, that’s for sure.
“My dick is too big for you Hollander?” The Russian taunted the choking boy as he put a gentle hand on his shoulder blade. Shane was out of breath and couldn’t face the other man.
“Just don’t make me put the whole thing in my mouth so suddenly. I need time to get there. It is big.” Shane admitted. Ilya smirked at the honest words he was receiving.
Shane wobbled standing back up and put himself under the running water. Ilya squeezed one of the man’s asscheeks and kissed his back.
Summary: S/hane and I/lya do a press conference together where I/lya has an allergic reaction. Afterward, they hook up and discover he’s also allergic to S/hane’s cologne. Kink!S/hane has a wild evening. Set pretty early in their situationship. NSFW!
*
R/ozanov is sniffling.
This isn’t unusual; in the months that S/hane has known him, he seems to always be sniffling. Or touching his eyes, or rubbing his nose, or doing those little allergic coughs that sound way too tiny and cute to be from I/lya R/ozanov, aggressive star center of the Raiders.
Shane grimaces a little as he makes his way up the stage to sit at the table in front of the press. Half of the grimace is from the thought of dealing with the press; the other half is that he can hardly believe he just thought of Rozanov as “cute”. Hot, sure, sexy, yeah, but “cute”? Rozanov would probably kick his ass if he heard that. And Shane much prefers the other things Rozanov does to his ass, thanks very much.
He wipes the grimace off his face quickly, though, because he doesn’t want the press to think he’s unhappy to be there, even if he is. He can already hear his mother on the phone later, lecturing him for not controlling his face. She had called earlier, reminding him to mention the cologne that’s recently started sponsoring him. He can’t even remember the brand name; something fancy and expensive. Shane prefers something a little more understated, but he had reluctantly dabbed some on his wrists and neck, if only so he can reassure his mom that he did so when she calls again tomorrow.
Shane gives Rozanov a nod as he takes his seat. He can already hear the press whispering, trying to decipher the meaning behind that little gesture. Is there real respect between the famed rivals, or is it just a show for the cameras and they loathe each other behind closed doors? Neither, he thinks, just a little friendly ass play in discreet hotel rooms. But of course he could never say that out loud.
Rozanov nods back, seeming distracted as he rubs the bridge of his nose with the center of his palm. “We get started, yes?” he asks shortly.
Shane shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he watches Rozanov rub at his pink, irritated nose. It’s already hard enough to be around Rozanov, without thinking about… that. He just hopes Ilya doesn’t start—
“hh’KNXSHTT!”
Shane flinches, unable to help himself from a visible reaction to Ilya’s first sneeze. It’s crushed into Ilya’s knuckles, painfully stifled.
It’s kind of funny. He’s never seen Ilya try to stifle before. On the ice, he usually just aims off to the side. Same with when they’re having sex afterward. Luckily, Shane having a boner isn’t very out of place when they’re having sex and Ilya starts sneezing. When they’re on the ice, on the other hand…
Shane resists the urge to cross his legs and reminds himself that the tablecloth is covering him from the reporters’ hungry eyes. “Bless you,” he mumbles, wildly uncomfortable just saying the words out loud.
Ilya waves a hand—the hand he’d just stifled against—dismissively. “Not dyig. Just allergic.” He sniffles and rubs at his nose again. The tip of it is starting to turn pink even under the makeup, Shane notices, swallowing hard.
“What are you allergic to, Ilya?” A brave reporter calls out. The mics must be picking up their words.
Ilya glares, seemingly unaware of all the cameras and reporters taking in his every microexpression. Or, more likely, he just doesn’t care. “Canada, apparently,” he says, with a waving gesture to encompass the entire nation.
The crowd of reporters obediently lets out a rumbling laugh, but Ilya doesn’t look like he’s kidding. His nose twitches, and he looks like he barely has time to shield his face before he’s ducking back into his knuckles with two barely-stifled, much wetter-sounding sneezes. “hh’GNXXSHHT! heh’DSSHHHT!”
Shane can feel the tips of his ears burning red. Is he blushing? God, he hopes not. He needs to take control of the conversation and redirect it. “The birch in Canada isn’t for the faint of heart,” he says with the fakest laugh he’s ever done. Maybe that will be enough to get the press to be satisfied and move on, he hopes.
Instead, one reporter calls out to Ilya, “Think all that sneezing will distract you from the game? Are you worried about winning tomorrow?”
Ilya is rubbing at his nose fiercely, but he manages to wink at the reporters in a way that seems effortless. “No, I never worry about beating Montreal,” he says lightly.
“Maybe you should, given how Boston’s been doing against us lately,” Shane bites out. His eyes lock onto the way Ilya is rubbing at his nostrils, all red and shiny and irritated. He can’t help himself from looking for a too-long second, before he finally is able to drop his eyes.
The reporters “ooh” obediently at the chirp and start asking Shane a question about his prep for tomorrow’s game. It’s easy enough to answer. He’s heard the same questions a dozen times before.
But he can’t keep himself from noticing the way that Ilya is watching him, from the corner of his eye. Like Ilya is studying him. Seeing the things that Shane would rather keep hidden.
*
After the press interview, Shane almost holds out. Almost resists the urge.
“Almost.” Who’s he kidding? He books it for Ilya’s hotel room, which had been texted to him this morning, as soon as he can. He doesn’t even change out of his suit first. The idea of Ilya tearing it off him has major appeal, anyway.
Ilya is slow to open the door, looking hazy and itchy. For once, Shane doesn’t scold him for making him wait in the hallway, too absorbed in studying the delicious discomfort that’s obvious on Ilya’s face. Now that the makeup is scrubbed off, it’s obvious that he’s been rubbing his nose nonstop all day. It’s all red and irritated-looking, and he can’t stop scrunching his nose as if to fight off a tickle.
“Couldn’t wait, no?” Ilya teases dryly, a hint of congestion in his voice.
Shane is on him like a puck bunny going after a clueless rookie. Ilya makes a surprised noise into Shane’s mouth mid-kiss, then cups the back of his neck and licks into his mouth. Their hands are everywhere, rubbing, squeezing, touching, impossible to keep track.
Shane finds his hands drifting upward, and he cups the other man’s face. He strokes a thumb across Ilya’s left cheek.
Ilya breaks the kiss and tears away from Shane, his face twitching. He starts to say something, breaks off with an insistent hitch, and sneezes violently into hastily-cupped palms. “hih’HETSSCHH!”
The sneeze sounds harsh and itchy. Shane swallows hard and steps closer. “Bless you,” he offers up, tentative. He can feel his face burning.
Ilya waves a hand at him dismissively, eyes watering as he continues to hitch. “S-sorry… s’just… fuck,” he stumbles over his words. Before he can say anything else, he sneezes two more times into his hands, both sounding as rough and unsatisfying as the first one. “Hh’ESSCHHHTT! heh… heh’IISSCHHTT’uhh!”
After a few seconds of sniffling, Ilya looks up at Shane awkwardly. “Sorry. This, um… ‘birch’ thing is killing my nose. Is not so sexy, right?” he cracks a self-deprecating smile.
Shane feels like his brain is broken. His dick is fine, though. He steps closer and, taking one of Ilya’s damp hands, presses it to the tent in his pants. “I really need you to fuck me right now,” he says earnestly.
Ilya grins.
Within seconds, he’s got Ilya undressed, barely resisting the need to get down on his knees and blow him. It’s very tempting, but he’s holding out. Still, he can’t resist licking a wide stripe on his palm so he can wrap a hand around Ilya’s cock and start to pump it, slow and agonizing.
Ilya barks out a laugh, half from sheer surprise and half from lust, and tips his head forward into the crook of Shane’s neck, enjoying the lazy handjob. “You are… enjoying my torture this evening,” he says, the words coming slow in English. “I like it.”
“Do you?” Shane murmurs. He feels overdressed, still in full suit and tie, but there’s something unusual in him being fully clothed while Ilya is naked. A change in their power dynamic that he’s very open to, tonight.
Ilya makes a noise of assent, then sniffles into Shane’s neck. “Gah, you smell different,” he says, but he doesn’t sound annoyed. “Like… trees?”
“Some kind of cologne deal my mom made,” Shane says, wanting to address any topic involving his mother as quickly as possible while he has his hand on another man’s dick. “I don’t remember the… oh.”
Ilya’s sniffles have progressed into heavy, unsteady breathing, and he rubs his nose side-to-side in Shane’s neck. “Itches,” he mumbles, but he doesn’t lift his hands off Shane’s hips, content to use Shane’s skin as his tissue. “Sorry, I… hih! I need…”
Shane tries frantically to think of what a normal person would do or say in his situation, instead of moaning over Ilya’s perfect, beautiful red nose. “Um, are you okay? Do you need, like, a Benadryl or something—?”
His question gets cut off by Ilya’s sharp inhale, and then Ilya is trying desperately to back away. Their bodies are tangled together, though, and Shane doesn’t catch up quickly enough to let go of Ilya. Ilya’s hands come up to cover, a hair too late, and he sneezes helplessly, openly, over Shane’s chest. “huhh… hhrr’IISSSHHH’uhh!”
The spray is sparkling in the hotel room lamplight, and Shane feels a cool dampness on his jaw. He feels himself freeze a little with shock, before abruptly coming back to himself with Ilya’s next loud hitch.
Desperate to cover, Ilya lurches forward and buries his nose into Shane’s tie, the closest thing available, before he can stop himself. With a needy hitch, he lets out a wet, strong, uncontrolled sneeze into the fabric. “hh’DJSSCHHH!”
Shane’s heart abruptly stops, then starts pounding in his chest again.
Ilya rears back and scrubs at his nose, trying to push back the next explosion, but Shane can already tell that that will be a failure. He looks too needy, too desperate. It’s driving Shane fucking wild. His hands drop from Ilya’s back and dick, and he brings them up to—what? He doesn’t even know.
He ends up pulling Ilya’s hands away from his face, and Ilya squints at him through watery eyes, breathing uneven. “What?” he asks, sounding annoyed. “Stop, I… heh! I don’t want to sn—” He doubles over, spraying a thick, wet sneeze toward the carpet to avoid getting Shane. “hh’DSSSCHHHTT! Ugh. Fuck! I don’t want to sndeeze on you againd, Hollander.”
His last name sounds so congested coming out of Ilya’s mouth.
Shane’s mouth is so dry. He keeps Ilya’s hands trapped in his own, stepping forward into Ilya’s space where he can’t duck away. “Don’t worry about it.”
Ilya gives him an “are you crazy” look and sniffles, barely damming back the encroaching explosion. “S’gross. Can’t stop fucking sndeehh—snf! Sndeezing.”
“Really not a problem right now,” Shane says, too turned on to be worried about how he’s presenting himself right now. “I want you so bad. You are so fucking hot tonight.”
Ilya’s eyes dip down, caught on the tent in Shane’s dress pants. His eyebrow raises for half a second, then he sniffles again, catching Shane’s eyes. “You like this?”
“…I like you,” Shane says eventually, not sure how to answer that. “Even when you’re gross. Can we fuck now, please?”
Ilya smiles, a little unsurely, then nods his head down at their joined hands. “Will need my hands, yes?”
Shane lets go of Ilya’s hands, feeling embarrassed for some reason. “Sorry. Are you like… okay?” he says, feeling like he should ask. “Do you need a break? A tissue?”
Ilya lets out a hoarse laugh, then takes the opportunity to scrub at his face. His nose looks so irritated. It makes Shane want to… what? Take care of him? Ridiculous. Not to mention impossible.
“No tissue, no break,” Ilya says after a moment of rubbing his face. “Will not help. Besides, I have your tie, yes? Is good tissue.”
Shane’s face goes hot. He looks down at his tie, visibly wet from its stint as a tissue, then looks back up at Ilya. He lets out a slow breath, and goes for cool. “Depends. Are you gonna keep me standing here, fully dressed, all night?”
Ilya makes a face, unimpressed. “Smooth. Get over here and let me rip your clothes off.”
And he does, rough with tearing off Shane’s suit in a way that Shane loves. Ilya is still sniffling a little, his nostrils flaring, but he doesn’t seem on the edge of a fit anymore. He’s too focused on getting Shane naked.
Once the suit has been laid carefully over the back of a chair—he may be out of his mind with need, but Shane is still a creature of order and habit—Ilya throws him onto the bed, then crawls in after.
The sheets are already messed up, and Shane finds himself wondering if Ilya took a nap here before the press interview. Were his allergies already bothering him? Did he stifle a fit into the pillows, rub his nose against the comforter? He swallows hard at the imagery.
“You were hot for me in the interview,” Ilya murmurs lowly. “Yes?”
Shane rolls his eyes. “Enough teasing, just fucking, please.”
Ilya taps a finger into Shane’s chest. “Impatient.”
“Yes!” Shane steals a kiss, ducking in and out before Ilya can stop him. “So hurry up!”
Ilya laughs and gets to work.
Within a few minutes, they’re laying on their sides. Ilya is inside Shane, rocking slow and steady while they get used to the rhythm. For all his desperation earlier, Shane feels content like this, in no rush to orgasm. Once they’re done, he’ll be expected to leave Ilya’s hotel room and pretend this never happened. He’s not really ready for that yet.
Ilya hooks his chin over Shane’s shoulder, so that they can almost make eye contact. His front is plastered to Shane’s back, firm and sweaty and perfect. He strokes his fingertips over Shane’s dick, teasing, and laughs when Shane curses at him for it. “Okay?”
“Yes, god, okay. You?”
“Yes,” Ilya says. He ducks his head down and rubs his nose into Shane’s shoulder. “I think, though, this cologne your mother picked out. It does not agree with me so much.”
Shane groans and thrusts himself backward onto Ilya’s cock. “I’ll throw it out! Please, Jesus, just fuck me already.”
“I will think about it,” Ilya says mockingly, but his movements speed up, both of them ready for the endgame now. He fists Shane’s dick, the way Shane likes it, and presses open-mouthed kisses to the side of Shane’s neck.
After a moment, the two of them are both close, moaning and whimpering in a way that has Shane wondering who Ilya’s hotel neighbors are tonight. It’s probably fine. Normally he would never allow for sex in a hotel room, they’re too loud, but tonight he feels out of control, burning up from the inside out with the way that Ilya’s breathing staggers with every tickle.
Ilya takes his hand off Shane’s dick, and Shane whines, low and needy. “Sorry, sorry, I…” Ilya sniffles and rubs his nose against the back of his hand. “Is itchy again.”
“Rozanov, put it back or so help me God—” Shane arches into a thrust and groans. “I will never let you fuck me again!”
Ilya puts his hand back and strokes Shane’s dick. In the light, Shane catches a glimpse of wetness on the back of Ilya’s hand, and it drives him fucking crazy. He fucks himself back onto Ilya’s cock, crying out. “Rozy, I’m gonna come I’m gonna come I’m—!”
Ilya’s rapidly hitching breath stops him short, and Ilya only has a second to decide what to do before he buries his face into Shane’s shoulder to sneeze. The sneezes come muffled and quieter, but undeniably strong, wet against Shane’s skin.
Shane almost screams when he comes. A second later, Ilya groans and goes boneless behind him.
Ilya sniffles through the aftershocks, rubbing his nose helplessly into Shane’s back and neck. His hands remain at Shane’s sides, holding on for dear life even though they’ve both orgasmed. Still, his nails dig into Shane’s skin as he holds back another sneeze.
Eventually, Shane’s haze lifts enough that he can sense what’s going on. “Just sneeze already,” he murmurs, bringing a hand back to cup Ilya’s curls. The angle is uncomfortable but worth it. “S’not like I mind.”
Ilya chuckles, and something about that must loosen the tickle, because he ducks into Shane’s back with a sudden, loud, “hh’IISSHHOOHHH!”
“Bless you,” Shane says. He can feel a smug smile forming on his face. “Feel better?”
“It’s not hers, it’s a product endorsement contract—“
“hh’ESSSHHH’uhh!”
The sneeze is cool and wet on Shane’s skin, and he shivers a little. He turns over in Ilya’s arms to face him. Ilya looks itchy, still pink-faced especially around the nose, but content. Like the orgasm drove the urgency out of him when it came to sneezing.
Shane brings up a hand and drags his thumb over Ilya’s cheek. The movement makes Ilya sniffle, but that’s all. “So sensitive. It’s kind of cute,” he says with a low laugh.
“I am not cute. Russians, we do not do this,” Ilya says with a growl, but it’s teasing, and he kisses Shane, fierce and needy.
Shane breaks off the kiss, still panting a little from the sex, and digs his fingers into Ilya’s curls. “Very cute. Especially when you’re allergic.”
Ilya lets out an irritated sigh and ducks his head under Shane’s chin, cuddling into his chest. “Is very annoying. I sneeze ever since plane touches down this morning. Is like burning in my face and it will not go away. Very frustrating.”
Shane cups the back of Ilya’s head and resists the urge to kiss the crown of his forehead. That’s not something they do. “Poor baby,” he teases. “Want me to kiss it, make it better?”
“If you kiss my nose, will definitely end with me sneezing on you.”
“Again.”
Ilya groans and buries his face into Shane’s chest. His hands come up to cup Shane’s tits, one of his favorite spots to hold. “Embarrassing.”
“You don’t get embarrassed,” Shane says. “A few weeks ago I watched you sneeze all over the ice in the second period. Like you didn’t even notice.”
Ilya shakes his head, rubbing his face into Shane’s chest. “Is not the same. You are not ice. You are pretty, pretty man with freckles who does not want to be human tissue.”
Shane laughs. “I don’t know about that.”
He’s too loose from the experience to care about his words, about Ilya learning way too much about him from this encounter. And so what if Ilya knows about his… more unusual tastes? They already can’t tell anyone about this. It’s as safe as it can ever get.
Ilya snuffles into Shane’s chest, inhaling sharply before abruptly sneezing and muttering a curse in Russian. “hh’ISSSHH’uhh!”
“Come on,” Shane says fondly. His smile is hurting his face. “Let’s take a shower. Get all that cologne and pollen off of you.”
Ilya groans and squeezes Shane tighter. “Five more minutes.”
Hey all! So, I wanted to write this preeeetty badly, because it’s been a long while since I’ve written something for snz purposes and I’m sorry if it’s a bit bland (or if it just plain sucks butt), I’m not the best writer but I REALLY wanted to do this because it’s rare that I’m so invested in a scenario.
I did a rough little draft of this a while back, and it features a bit of BakuDeku…well, a lot really, but seeing as I am a multi shipper it won’t be the only pairing I write for, I promise! (plus this pairing is mainly just a really guilty pleasure for me lol) For this story/AU both boys have just entered their 20s and are full time pro heroes. Apologies if it’s super long and boring, like I said, I was SUPER into this!
Title: Tight Fit
Rating: 18+ (Features Aroused SnzFucker!Deku and Kacchans Potty Mouth)
Summary: Young pro heroes Ground Zero and Deku find themselves in a tight spot when a man hunt goes South.
CW: Allergy sneezes, hiding while sneezing, HOLDBACKS, SO MANY HOLDBACKS/BUILDUPS, sneezy D/eku, closeted snzfucker! T/odoroki, hands-free stifles, pinched nose stifles, muffled sneezes into T/odo’s chest, messy stifles, spray, allergy attack, background footsteps and/or voices, accidental quirk activation, SOME EXPLOSIONS courtesy of B/akugou, angry B/akugou whos yelling a lot, loud noises in general tbh, you’ve been warned, sneezing fits, two noseblows, T/odoroki gets sneezed on a LOT, sniffling, hand over mouth/hand over mouth sneezes.
When pro heroes S/hoto and D/eku find themselves hiding from a huge group of villains in their hideout, they’ll have to lay low until B/akugou and reinforcements arrive. However, that’s easier said than done when the leader of this villainous gang has a quirk related to pollen heavy plants…and our favorite green hero is at the mercy of his allergies. Will T/odoroki be able to keep his cool while fighting a totally different foe in secret?
HEADS UP THIS SHIT GETS LOUD WHEN B/AKUGOU SHOWS UP! It might SPOOK YA
For those of you that like holdbacks and buildups, and D/eku in distress, this is for you lol. Took two days to edit D/eku’s parts alone, holy fuck.
I’m gonna try to finish the V Day wav w/ B/akugou as soon as I can but I do have work tomorrow so I just need some time, it may be a little late so keep that in mind @-@ Anyway, hope you guys enjoy!
(Soooo ya boy got really really self indulgent and made a getogojochoso snzfic)
(CW this will have serious contagion, mess and some smuttyness. no literal/actual sex but its pretty spicy)
Spend time with your boyfriends, she said. It’ll be fun, she said. They miss you, she said. What Yuki didn’t say was that Choso would be put in the eye of a storm. What storm, you may ask? Satoru and Suguru have an awful cold. Choso knew when he opened the front door, he was screwed. The living room of the apartment was dark, the blankets stripped from the sofa, and the distant sound of coughing echoed through the halls from the bedroom. Choso should have listened to the voice in his mind that said, ‘turn back,’ but Yuki was already gone. He tried to text her, begging her to come and get him, but all he got in return was ‘have fun’ like she was dropping him off at daycare.
“Choso?” A voice calls from the bedroom. God, this felt like walking into a horror movie house; the urge to run was paralyzing. Choso cringed at the voice, which he could probably guess was Satoru. Suguru was the type to sleep more. Well, unless Satoru was keeping him up. Slipping his shoes off, Choso sighs and adjusts the mask he has over his face before calling back.
“Yeah, it's me!” He pads his way towards the bedroom and peeks inside.
A nest of blankets piled up on the bed, with two sickly men inside. Suguru was lying up against a couple of pillows with his long black hair splayed out in a chaotic mess. His slightly tanned skin was tainted by a flush across his face, his purple eyes glassy and exhausted. His nose seemed to be the primary problem, already looking irritated and turning red, along with the amount of tissues that were spread across the sheets and the two boxes nearby. Then there was Satoru lying on Suguru’s chest, well, now he was sitting on his waist. Dressed in what he could guess was one of Suguru’s sweatshirts from how loosely it fit and soft PJ pants. His already pale skin was much paler than usual, the fever face sticking out clearly. With those stupid sunglasses off, those crystal blue eyes were dull and hazy. Gojo kept the cuff of the sweatshirt pressed to his nose, but he couldn’t hide the obvious redness.
“There you are cobe here!” Gojo whined, making grabby hands towards Choso. Choso hesitated but dodged the tissues on the floor and on the bed to slide in beside Geto.
“How are you two doing?” Choso asked awkwardly. It was already clear what the answer was but it was polite to ask. There was a slight grin on Gojo’s face that never spelled anything good. He reached out and slung his arms around Choso, even as Choso tried to lean away; there’s not much space to get away without falling off the bed where he sat. Gojo pulls Choso to him and nuzzles into him with a congested him of happiness.
“Better dnow that you’re here.” Thick wet sniffles punctuate his sentence. Choso can feel the feverish warmth searing into his skin from Gojo and looks at him with slight worry.
“You’re running hot.” He points out, the grin spreads across Gojo’s face, and his eyes shine deviously for a moment. In a deep, gravely voice, he replies.
“Aaaaw you thigk i’b hot~” A chill runs up Choso’s spine, and he feels his chest grow warm underneath the mask. A whine slips from his lips, distracting him from everything else. Gojo lets go only to slide into Choso’s lap while Geto rolls onto his side, lazily wrapping an arm around Choso. He’s pulled further onto the bed this way, and now he can’t get out of it. He’s surrounded on both sides by two biohazards!
“C’bmere, dod’t wadt you to fall off the bed,” Suguru mumbles. Gojo is now leaning into Choso’s chest with content plastered across his face. Though it's temporarily lived as his nose and face scrunch up. His nose wriggles around before his lips start to part, and soft gasps
“HhhHheh! Heh! Heeegh! hHEG’nnsSSHHWw!” A sneeze that sends a long, thick string of mess oozing down Gojo’s face. Tuning back into reality, Choso sees this and grabs a tissue from the box.
“Bless you, here,” He tries catching what leaks out and brings the tissue up to Satoru’s nose, but as soon as they touch, another eruption comes.
“hHEG’nnsSSHHHMMMPPHh!” Gojo’s body rocks forward, causing Choso to wrap his free arm around his waist. But he’s paying more attention to the heavy, damp warmth trapped in the tissue that he knew wouldn’t be holding much more if another sneeze came. He carefully pinches off anything left and tosses the used tissue aside. Satoru groans and sighs with a sniffly
“Thagk you”
“You’re welcome.” Then Choso feels wet warmth on his collarbone and sees Gojo rubbing is nose against him
“H-hey!” Choso tries to push him off gently, but Gojo wraps his arms around his torso securely.
“You’re so soft ad comfy” He whines. Choso huffed and just rubbed his back while Geto curled up beside them.
“You know how he is, Cho, no point id fightig it.” Well, at least Geto hadn’t done anything yet. A short series of wet sniffles and snorting followed his words; a piece of Geto’s hair flops over his face and brushes against his nose. Even when pushed back, it just flops back over. Geto shudders, fanning his face with one hand; his breath comes in long, drawn-out gasps. They tense his whole body, making his shoulders and head move back and shrug. His other hand is blindly searching for a tissue, but he doesn’t have time, and neither does Choso.
“ Huhhh Huhhh hhhuuuughuh! HUdt’ssscHHHhheuhw! HUdt’ssscHHHhheuhw HUdt’ssscHHHhheuhw!” Three body-shaking sneezes barrel from Geto, who just barely manages to catch them in the cuff of his sleeve. His muffled, congested voice can barely be understood, so he repeats himself.
“Cad you had be a tissue…or three?” Once he finally got the message, Choso grabbed a few tissues and held them out. Suguru took them and released his other hand from his face, showing the multiple thin strands of snot that dripped down before he tried cleaning it up.
“Sorry it just doesn’t stop ruddig, its always doig this.” Geto apologizes and lets out an utterly devastating nose blow. It definitely sounded that way; you could hear the snot flooding into the tissues.
“Guh this thig is so stuffed up’b.” He grumbles, wiping at his nose roughly before tossing the tissue aside.
“Yeah, it sounds like it” Choso agreed. Suguru leaned towards Choso’s shoulder with a sigh.
“Thagks for cobig over, Satoru’s beed whidig about it since last night.” Gojo looked up at Geto and glared at him playfully.
“I have’d beed whidig” He whines, his sickly boyfriend rolls his eyes and pulls the blanket over himself.
“Choso,” Gojo says. Choso looks down at the other with a ‘hm?’. Suddenly, Gojo’s hand comes towards Choso’s face and tugs at his mask.
“You know you don’t need this, it's just cold.”
“Seems more like the plague to me,” Choso mutters. Gojo pouts at him and pulls down on his mask
“Oh, cobe od, you’ll survive.” There’s a shared look between Satoru and Suguru, and the mischievous glint is back. Before Choso truly questions anything, he feels himself getting pressed between the two on the bed. Their arms around him, both front and back. Gojo straddles Choso’s lap and leans in for a kiss. Choso’s hands come up to Satoru’s shoulder, but his efforts to push away are fumbled when his own body betrays him in want of that kiss. Noow Choso’s whining.
“You’re gonna get me sick.” Suddenly Suguru’s deeper voice purrs in his ear.
“Mbaybe that’s what we want, blood bunny~” A heat spreads from Choso’s cheeks to his ears, his whole face feels hot now. He knows he’s screwed now; he could already taste the sickness on his tongue from that kiss. Short hiccupy breaths give him the cue that there’s no going back now. He can see that spacy open-mouth expression on Satoru’s face. His nose is running down his upper lip on one side, while the other looks like some is threatening to spill.
His mouth drops open as his head tilts back a little, showing those flaring red nostrils right before disaster comes down.
“hHEG’nnsSSHHWw! hHEG’nnsSSHHWw Heehhh! hHEG’nnsSSHHWw!” Spray hits him point-blank in Choso’s face while Gojo’s nose leaks heavily down his face.
“Ugh thats behh better, huhh h-huhoold on.” Gojo’s words falter, and his chest heaves
“Gihhh give bme hheeeh hehh! Your hhuhh give bme your hand,” He commands. Choso hesitates but brings up his hand. Gojo takes it and brings it to his face to deliver a messy fit.
“ hHEG’nnsSSHHWw! hHEG’nnsSSHHWw! hHEG’nnsSSHHWw!” Snot splatters into Choso’s hand, its heavy and warm and leaking between his fingers. Gods, how could one person make that much snot!?
“Thagk you, that felt so bmuch better,” Gojo sighs, like doing that gave him relief, even if he still sounded horribly congested despite letting out all that. He then leans away from Choso’s hand and nuzzles his nose into his collarbone again, pulling a shiver from him. Meanwhile, Geto was already rubbing his nose into Choso’s shoulder like his nose was pissing him off.
“This stupid thihh thig is so tiihh tickly.” Choso feels Suguru’s grip on him getting desperate just like his hitching. Long and vocal, his body shakes, pressing his chest to Choso’s back. Suguru reels back and delivers an equally wet and messy set into Choso’s neck. Choso lets out an “Anhk!” and tenses; it feels like a wet kiss on his neck.
“ HUdt’ssscHHHhheuhw! HUdt’ssscHHHhheuhw! HUdt’ssscHHHhheuhw! Huhhh uuuuuughh HUdt’ssscHHHhheuhw!” Mess runs down his neck and onto his shoulder, Choso tries to bite back another noise that gets caught in his throat, but his eyes rolling back give him away.
A hand grabs his face and turns him to face Suguru. Those deep purple eyes are half lidded, but they’re not Choso’s focus; instead, it's that red and abused nose that keeps flaring and twitching. He almost doesn’t catch what Suguru says to him.
“Oh, you are so fugked, you’re godda get so sigk~” His mind completely blanks out when Satoru sprays a mess sneeze at the other side of his neck. That ot breath fluttering against his damp skin. He finds himself white knuckling the sheets. Oh’s so screwed.
Hey all, this is NameTaken from over on the forum - I've never been the most involved in the community but I hope by finally making this blog it will actively encourage me to contribute more writing and (hopefully) art to the already awesome collection of blogs on here 😊
📖: I Can't Hold It (B/illy x E/ddie) (prompt) (NSFW)
📖: Sick Hopper (H/opper x J/oyce) (prompt) (NSFW)
📖: Sneezy Talk (s/teddie) (prompt) (NSFW)
💕S/teddie mutual fetish AU master list 💕
💛 D/isco E/lysium
🎨: K/im + H/arry fetishy headshots (+J/ean)
🎨: K/im snz
📖: Suggestible (K/im x H/arry)
📖: Revelation (K/im x H/arry) (NSFW)
📖: Happiness (K/im x H/arry) (NSFW)
📖: Lovely Mess (J/ean x H/arry) (NSFW)
📖: Worth It (J/ean x H/arry) (J/ean x H/arry x K/im) (NSFW)
📖: Cat For Grabs (K/im) (bg J/ean x H/arry x K/im) (NSFW)
📖: Relinquish Control (K/im x H/arry) (NSFW)
📖: Tease (K/im x H/arry) (NSFW)
📖: Hitching + Inopportune (K/im x H/arry) (prompt) (NSFW)
📖: Conditioning (J/ean x H/arry) (NSFW)
📖: Finger Under Nose + Edge of Sneeze (K/im x H/arry) (prompt) (NSFW)
📖: Exhausted (K/im)
📖: Heaven (H/arry x D/ora) (NSFW)
💚 L/upin III
💙 M/etalocalypse
2 fics to be crossposted from forum, both NSFW
🎨 My art tagged with #ntsffart
📖 My writing tagged with #nametakenfic
🔊My wavs/vids tagged with #ntwav
Please send me asks! I'd love to talk about any of the above 😎👍
I also have a YouTube channel if you're interested in wavs! (Though I haven't posted there in a while and almost exclusively post on tumblr now)
Please do not interact if you're a minor. I know this is annoying to hear as a teen but you are children and it is not in your best interest to engage with sexual content online - fetish or otherwise!! Please also consider that respectable adults would NEVER wilfully engage with children in fetish spaces, and that it is intensely uncomfortable for us, on top of being illegal. I will block anyone I suspect of being underage.
When pro heroes D/ynamight and D/eku find themselves in a tight spot, they'll need to muster up their self control in order to prevail and save the day. Unfortunately, D/ynamight has a slight dust allergy...and it's making D/eku a bit weak in the knees.
CW: Sneezing, angry B/akugou, snzfucker! I/zuku, B/akudeku if you squint violently, enclosed space, sneezing while hiding scenario, fic turned wav, holdbacks, sniffling, stifles, wet sounding stifles, hitching breaths and build ups, AN EXPLOSION PLS BE PREPARED! whispered voices, B/akugou sneezing on D/eku consensually, B/akugou hates reporters, potential sequel in store?
It's FINALLY HERE, I think this method of getting wavs done will do me some good, helps me FINALLY finish projects and gives my greedy broke bitch ass motivation to make them as great as I can! That being said, I hope this lives up to expectations! Nonny if you see this (the lovely who commissioned its completion) please lemme know what you think! This is my first wav in MONTHS and I hope this is a proper come back for me and not just a total flop.
apologies for the like...4 month hiatus, and next up is a wav with listener trapped in an elevator with sick, angry, sneezy D/ynamight, hope you're ready ;3
tiny anime snz comp, kind of a random selection, not really comprehensive of each series or anything, just some that I remembered 😋
also the last two are from l//og/h. Yk...that one series I keep bringing up.....orange hair guy is one of my fav characters btw...if it matters...idk 🥹🫣😭✨
jacobvanloon
yousharknotpass
andulkaphoto
areudirty
baratheonpilled
