#d/s snz

[rosy-bless]

obsessed with the nuance between a cocky “you can’t make me sneeze” and a desperate “please don’t let me sneeze”

[4108927]

visual of forcing someone to hold back snzs against their will with your finger pressed against the bottom of their nose, feeling it flare wildly with each buildup only to be curbed by the pressure

[snz-eriya]

A Strange Feeling (D/an H/eng snzfic, H/S/R, ft. C/aelus)

me: man I think I have writer's block again

also me: *writes nearly 2k words of horn*

anyway this is a valentine's post for @mochindayo !!!!!!! ur art is so good I wanna eat it and u deserve to have the best day ever every day!!! I hope you enjoy this fic I give as tribute to your amazingness :')

Caelus pressed on the button to open his door, wearily. It wasn’t like time was very clear if one were to look out the window, given that they were in space. Time itself was a little vague on the Astral Express. Nevertheless, he had been attempting to sleep for what felt like five years. Though to his exaggeratory mind, it was probably more like a few hours. But for some reason, his mind was running wild. No thought was consistent, only one random idea after another that captivated his attention and kept rest just out of arm’s reach. Eventually he got tired of trying, and decided to walk around the ship in hopes to tire out his body.

Or his mind, hopefully. Though it never really did seem to quiet down.

He walked past March’s room, and then Dan Heng’s. Just before he was about to turn the corner, he paused. He stepped backwards until he was in front of Dan Heng’s room again. Then back a few more steps to March’s. Then back to Dan Heng’s. 

He likely would have seemed to be a lunatic in someone else’s eyes. But there was a strange feeling that he got when he walked past specifically Dan Heng’s room. An indescribable feeling. An emotion? Something that made him uneasy. Whatever it was, it made him pause. He reached a hand out, to test if the door was unlocked. It probably would be. Dan Heng’s ‘room’ was the archive, after all. And as private as he was, he didn’t really mind if someone came in without permission as long as it was for a good reason. Was feeling weird a good reason? Probably not, but who knows? Maybe Dan Heng was dying, or attacked, or something. Probably not. Unless Dan Heng refused to be loud even when dying.

Opening up the door, Caelus was relieved to see that Dan Heng was not dying. Though he expected the other to at least be asleep or something at this time(?) of night(?). But no, his fellow Nameless was up and about, at the archives, sorting through various documents and books they had collected over their journeys. Which, that was good, it wasn’t like Caelus could be bothered to remember every detail of all those wordy papers (he could barely stand to read a few sentences without getting bored) but when everyone else had already gone to bed? He could have done it earlier and avoided spending time with everyone.

Caelus had a feeling just standing there and not saying anything for an extended period of time would not give him any avoidance for creepiness, so he decided to speak up.

“Dan Heng?”

The other jumped, as if surprised by his presence. Kind of strange. The doors weren’t exactly quiet. Not a big deal though. Maybe he was just focused.

“Caelus…” Dan Heng muttered, relaxing. Maybe he was expecting an enemy too. Or for Caelus to be dying instead. In any case, he turned back to his work. “Is there something you need?”

Caelus stood for a moment. Not really. For the weird feeling to go away? But how was he supposed to describe that? “Uh… no,” he eventually replied. Dan Heng looked back at him, an eyebrow raised at his answer.

Silence stretched between them once again.

Caelus really had to stop chasing every feeling that interested him.

“Uh… so… still working? Y’know everyone else is asleep,” he finally spoke up again, the awkward energy starting to get to him.

“I could say the same to you,” Dan Heng responded coolly. It seemed like he dropped trying to figure out what Caelus was doing there, and instead turned back to the archives once more.

Caelus still felt weird. So, ignoring his own note-to-self, he approached to stare at Dan Heng’s work over his shoulder. To be honest, his eyes were so tired that the words sort of jumbled together into an incoherent mess. It was more so just to get his crew mate’s attention.

And get his attention it did. Dan Heng glanced over, turning to face Caelus again. “If you don’t need anything, why are you still here? You should be sleeping.”

“Y’know I could just… say the same thing to you, right?” Caelus replied, trying to keep an exhaustedly smug grin off his face. “You’re archiving this late? I didn’t know there was still stuff left to archive.”

“There’s always things left. Please leave me be. I have work to do,” Dan Heng requested again. Though, like he had the mind of a child, it was like being told to stop doing something just made the trailblazer want to do it more. 

“I can help, if you want. I’m sure I can handle the, uh…” He picked up a random book, squinting at its title. “Underground Encyclopedia of Plants and Fungle.”

“Fungi. You’re not a child. You know how to read,” Dan Heng sighed in exasperation. Putting a hand to his head like the interaction was giving him a headache. 

“Meh, close enough. C’mon, it’ll get done faster if we do it together.”

“It’s fine.”

“Look, I know you like it all to be perfect, but there’s gotta be some kind of autocorrect in this thing, right?”

“Please, Caelus, just leave me be.” 

Dan Heng sounded desperate, which was strange. Typically Dan Heng would act annoyed but compliant, even more so when it came to March than him. But looking in the Nameless’ glassy eyes, it seemed like he was a few seconds away from begging.

Wait, glassy eyes? Oh, fuck. Was he actually dying? Was that his dying wish? His last words?

Caelus opened his mouth to apologize for making Dan Heng’s last moments so painful, when–

“heh’GKshu!” Dan Heng quickly turned away as soon as the sneeze rang through him. And suddenly Caelus realized that he wasn’t dying. In the traditional sense, anyway.

“Oh,” he said.

“What?” Dan Heng replied, turning back like nothing had happened at all.

“Uh, you’re sick?” Caelus stated, because it was obvious. After the evidence, anyway.

“I’m not,” Dan Heng immediately denied, turning his head away with arms crossed.

“Uh-huh.” Caelus’ eyes lidded disbelievingly, he had a small smirk on his face. “So why’re you still working, huh? To convince us that you’re not sick? Or to convince yourself? Because, just saying, I never would have seen you if I wasn’t already worried you were dying.”

Dan Heng scoffed. “Well, I’m definitely not dying.”

“You are sick, though.”

“heH’GXkshu!” 

Dan Heng faced Caelus again after turning away to sneeze, about to protest for a second time. Caelus managed to shut it down before it started again.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re not sick, and the whole sneezing is just… a coincidence?” He waved his hand absently.

Dan Heng didn’t reply that time. His arguments had been effectively dismantled, and Caelus wasn’t stupid, just nonsensical most of the time.

He sighed, resting his head on an open palm, kept upright by the table. Caelus waited for a moment to see if anything more would be said, but he was met with silence. He took it as permission to carry out his plan.

He reached over and placed the back of his hand onto Dan Heng’s cheek, only to be met with his disapproving stare. “Wrong spot,” he muttered.

“Oh. Right,” Caelus recalled, moving his touch to the man’s forehead instead. He was met with a dry, hot temperature, something that he assumed was probably not good. 

He pulled back, hands on his hips. “Yeah, in my very professional opinion, you should be in bed. Not at a desk.”

“But–”

“Nuh-uh, doctor’s orders, unless you want me to get a literal doctor in here.”

“Caelus–”

“I will call Natasha!” Caelus pulled out his phone, just to make his point entirely clear.

That seemed to shake the last of Dan Heng’s resolve. His shoulders lowered like he had given up all remaining fight. “Fine.”

Caelus smiled, pleased with his victory. “Good. Now, c’mon.” He took Dan Heng’s hand and started dragging him up without another thought.

“Wh- huh? My bed’s right there,” Dan Heng looked down at his blanket and pillow cluelessly, then back up and Caelus as he continued to be pulled away.

“Yeah, that’s not really a sickbed. Or a bed. Or anything other than a poor man’s attempt,” the trailblazer replied. “You need a real bed. A Trailblazer-patented bed, at that.”

Dan Heng sighed. “You’re ridiculous. There’s no changing your mind, is there?”

“The only person on this ship more stubborn than you is me.”

That was fairly accurate.

As soon as they had left Dan Heng’s room, its owner soon crumpled down into another sneeze.

“heH’IGHkshu! hih’GXKshih! hh- heh… hih-”

“Stuck?” Caelus wondered, glancing back at his companion. His expression was pained, one eye closed and the other watering. He panted, desperately waiting for the urge to take over once again, but it remained out of reach.

“Here,” the trailblazer spoke, opening the door to his room as the lights flickered on all at once. He dragged Dan Heng along with him. The result was immediate.

“hEH’KGhshu! heH’GKshih! heH- hIH’XGkhuh! huh…”

Dan Heng sighed in relief as the fit finally came to an end. He looked about fifteen shades brighter red, though whether that was from the fever or the embarrassment was anyone’s guess. Caelus, for all the satisfaction being helpful gave him, wasn’t exactly willing to let Dan Heng suffer for his weak fulfillment. 

“Now, to bed with you.” He wrapped an arm around Dan Heng’s shoulders, practically carrying him the rest of the way to bed.

The other man had enough energy to cooperate by the time he was being lied down, allowing Caelus to tuck him in like a child despite his protests. He had to admit that it was comfier than his own room.

Caelus let out a breath, like he was exhausted from a workout. “Okay. Now, sleep.”

Dan Heng raised an eyebrow at him. “I can’t do that on command.”

“I’m pretty sure you can. You almost passed out as soon as we got in here.”

Had he? He must have been more tired than he thought.

“And where will you be sleeping? Sharing a bed with me wouldn’t be smart if I’m ill.”

“Yeah, ‘if,’” Caelus rolled his eyes. Then, he pointed his thumb down towards the ground. “The floor.”

Dan Heng stared for a moment. “...The floor.”

Caelus glanced to the side, then back to his companion. “...Why are you surprised? You do it.”

That couldn’t really be argued. For some reason it just felt inhumane when it came to his friend rather than him. Though that was something he could unpack another day.

“Try not to worry about it, Dan Heng. Maybe worry about yourself, for once. The rest of us are fine.” Caelus gave him a real, genuine and caring smile, before walking off towards what was probably a closet.

It was a bit hard to tell, his vision was starting to fade away, and unconsciousness was pulling at him. It was a little embarrassing to admit how relaxed he felt, in his friend’s room rather than his own.

But it gave him a feeling of safety.

And Caelus’ feeling had gone away too, he realized as he glanced back at Dan Heng’s sleeping form. He still didn’t quite have a name for it. Maybe… a feeling that something was wrong. But not just wrong in general. Something that was wrong with someone he cared about. And that was a feeling he wanted to hold onto.

[hachiibun]

❗ PLEASE NO REBLOGGING TO NON-KINK BLOGS ❗

I'm honoured to have collaborated with the incredible @onetrickponi to celebrate a certain gravity-manipulating shorty's birthday! This has been in the works for a while now, and we're both really excited to finally share this with everyone!

Without further ado, we'd like to present Vigil.

— ♠ —

“I’ve always wanted to die in a church.”

Beside him, Chuuya snorts. “I thought you wanted to die in the Ooka.”

Dazai wrinkles his nose. “Not since it became a tourist trap,” he replies. “That wouldn’t be a peaceful death at all.”

“The amount of thought you’ve put into this disturbs me,” says Chuuya, his own nose creasing. His, however, is due to a low seated, buzzing itch along the bridge of his sinuses that has been lingering since breakfast.

Chuuya won’t give it the satisfaction of culminating into a sneeze, however; instead choosing to quash the soft tingle into oblivion with the sheer force of his willpower alone. Anything else would be unacceptable.

(—as well as fucking candy to the idiot next to him, if Dazai ever gets wind of…whatever this is.)

Chuuya swallows against a spark of itch that ignites in his nose and grits his teeth. When he thinks he can speak steadily he points to the pews with a gloved hand. “Find the flash drive,” he orders. “We’ve got a window of thirty minutes at—the fuck are you looking at, shithead?”

Dazai cocks his head to the side, blinks, and answers with, “Just admiring your striking resemblance to a cherub in this light.” It’s smooth and practiced, like most of Dazai’s bullshittery.

“Why, you–” Chuuya cuts himself off and exhales slowly through his nose. He tries not to wince at the slight whistling sound it makes. With a sharp sniff he stalks off to the sanctuary and begins sifting through the drawers there. Dazai scurries off to the apse with an excited noise, muttering something about how angelic his corpse would look strung up along the mosaics.

Chuuya’s nose gives a foreboding quiver.

It isn’t like Dazai hasn’t ever heard him sneeze, or vice versa. They’ve been working together too long for that. They’ve seen each other express every bodily function possible to man (in addition to the ones that aren’t).

And Chuuya might have even been okay with his current predicament, had it not been for a quip Dazai made last week about Chuuya being a “weakling.” It had stung because Dazai, whose lack of self care is, frankly, appalling, can operate seemingly unbothered by even the most serious neglects of basic needs. Chuuya’s seen him run at peak wit on days of sleeping ninety minutes a night, seen his hair and skin glow on a diet of crab cakes and sake…while on the other hand Chuuya’s the one with the—

Don’t say it. As if ignoring the problem will make it go away. It hasn’t worked with Dazai, so Chuuya is a fool to think it will work with his increasingly sensitive airways.

Chuuya rifles through some bibles, sparing a glance or two at Dazai before deeming it okay to swallow a couple of sneezes and throat clears into his sleeve. He’s perfected the silent stifle over time, which is a feat in and of itself since Chuuya tends to sneeze harshly, loudly, and in multiples. Perhaps the intensity is Corruption at work, but regardless, Chuuya enjoys scaring the living daylights out of people. Usually.

The flash drive is proving to be elusive. The Port needs it, badly, if they have any chance of winning over the west side gangs of the Pier. Chuuya jams a gloved knuckle against the side of his nose as he hitches, squints, and glares at the church pews like they personally offend him.

“Oi, Chuuya,” Dazai whisper-calls from somewhere behind a cupboard. “I think someone’s coming. You find it?”

“No,” Chuuya snaps. The dust of old, flaky books is making his already irritated nose twitch. He shakes his head and the tickle abates. Cocking his head he realizes that Dazai is right; the sound of slow footfalls is getting closer to the vestibule. “Shit.”

Dazai scurries lightly over to where Chuuya is glowering at nothing in particular, and takes him by the arm. “There’s a little den area over there,” he nods to a veiled corner, “where we can stay hidden until whoever it is leaves,” he says.

“Or we can just come back in the morning,” replies Chuuya, snatching his arm away.

“Mori-sama will be disappoinnnteddd,” Dazai sing-songs. Dammit. He knows how to hit Chuuya where it hurts and they both know it.

Chuuya sighs. “Fine.” He stalks over to the den and crouches in the darkness with Dazai just as the cathedral doors swing open. The gibbous moon twinkles through the stained glass windows enough for the two of them to make out one of the western gang’s right hands.

Dazai crouches low and squints through the shadows. “Maybe he’ll show us where the drive is,” he whispers.

“Shut up, slug.”

Dazai holds up his bandaged hands in a familiar, placating gesture. They watch the guy glide down the stone nave, rummage around some boxes along the altar’s steps, sift through a stack of papers, and make himself comfortable on a nearby cushion.

Well, there goes Chuuya’s hopes of a night in. And now with Dazai sitting so close, he’s bound to find out Chuuya isn’t in as good of shape as he claims. Chuuya’s not going to waste all of his energy hiding it, but he’s also not ready to be discovered because he couldn’t keep his damn nose under control.

He’d never hear the end of it from Dazai.

So when he feels a trickle of damp at the edges of his nostrils he takes a slow breath in and times a much-needed sniffle with their visitor’s dropping of a folder. Dazai shoots him a curious, but unsurprised glance, which Chuuya pointedly ignores.

The sneeze teasing the swollen membranes of his sinuses, however, is much harder to ignore. Chuuya knows he can stifle it, but he also knows that doing so won’t exactly solve the problem. The irritation needs somewhere to go, or it’ll just build fruitlessly until he lets them out proper.

He breathes carefully, making sure to hitch silently as he bunches up a handful of fabric from his jacket. Chuuya ducks his head in preparation for the sneeze (or sneezes, if this is indeed a…cold).

Dazai raises an eyebrow as he watches Chuuya curl into himself and shiver with two inaudible stifles. When Chuuya uncurls Dazai can see the bleary, hazy look of someone who still has desperately to sneeze but is trying very hard not to.

“Can you stop, Chibi?” whispers Dazai. Chuuya shoots him a look that is equal parts furious and embarrassed. It’s adorable. But…

“Frankly, I’d rather not get caught because you couldn’t tame your little nose there,” Dazai continues. “Are you suuure you’re good?”

Chuuya gives a curt nod. Which should be reassuring, but Dazai’s smile falters because this is actually very bad. He recognizes the lack of quip, even while hiding like this, means that Chuuya does not trust himself enough to speak. He’s seen it before.

Dazai flicks an errant strand of hair out of his eyes and sighs. “Maybe we really will die in a church, if you keep this up.”

Chuuya’s returning grin is feral. “Y-you wish.” No way in hell will he allow Dazai the satisfaction. The carpets blanketing the enclosed den mean that they can whisper without much of an echo. It’s a small relief, since Chuuya can feel the congestion crawling and pattering away in a far back place of his nose, dormant but threatening.

He focuses on how intently Dazai is eyeing him, knowing well what Dazai isn’t saying. Engaging would be easy, but it would be messy and they’re supposed to be currying favor with the west side gangs, not killing them (or in Dazai’s case, very emphatically bonking them on the head).

Chuuya’s right eye waters with the sharpness of the tickle, as the itchiness swells and becomes decidedly less dormant. He bites his lip. If this keeps up his nose is going to turn into fucking Krakatoa.

Dazai watches Chuuya massage his flaring nostrils through the fabric of his gloves and grins with as many teeth as he can muster. Chuuya’s losing battle with his nose is even more hilarious than the fact that he’s currently sitting on a pile of Communion pamphlets.

It won’t be long now, what with the way Chuuya has gone stiff and rigid. Dazai counts backwards from five in his head. He gets to two before Chuuya’s lip trembles as the itch erupts and overwhelms him.

“Gnt!” Chuuya’s able to pinch that one into submission, though it makes his head throb and the pulsating trickle along his nose intensify with unsatisfied need. “Gnt! Nt! H’Gnt!”

He starts to lower his hand, before—“Gnt!” Jesus fuck, can’t he be done?

The answer is no, apparently, because Chuuya feels his eyes begin to flutter shut and his chest start to jump with silent, building hitches.

Before he can sneeze again, however, he feels a tap on his shoulder. It successfully distracts him from the budding sneeze as Chuuya whips his head around to stare at Dazai’s familiar, shit-eating grin.

Dazai uses the finger he’d tapped Chuuya with to beckon. “C’mere.”

Chuuya sniffs carefully and squints. “Why?”

Rolling his eyes, Dazai grabs him (gently, Chuuya notices, which okay, is a little odd) and smashes his face into his long overcoat (a little less gently).

“Mnflgl?” Chuuya questions.

“Sneeze, Chuuya,” Dazai orders. Chuuya tries to shake his head because one, Dazai’s forgetting how harsh his sneezes are—sure to give them away, and two, Chuuya might hate the guy but he’s not going to sneeze on him.

Dazai seems to read his mind. “The fabric will muffle the sound,” he replies. “And you’ll pay for my dry cleaning.” Chuuya can hear his smirk. Asshole.

But he also wants very badly to sneeze. No; at this point he’s desperate to sneeze. His nose feels like one of his gravity bombs, pulsing, thrumming, and the itch is all consuming. It would feel so good to just let a few out. He really shouldn’t.

“I know you need to,” whispers Dazai.

So, against all logic, Chuuya does.

“Hep-MPPH! MPPHT! H’MPPH!” Somehow, the fabric dampens the sound better than Chuuya thought it would. So he decides he can sneeze a little more.

“Hh…hh…MPPHT! PHT! MPPHT! Hp!…H-Hep-MPPHH!”

He’s beginning to feel dizzy. It’s worth it, though, as the stuffy, spider-crawling prickle along his nose subsides for the time being. God, he’s never had to sneeze so badly in his life. Makes sense it’s now, when he needs to be quiet.

And Dazai—the utter prick—is patting his head, like Chuuya’s some sort of mutt. “You’re a mess, you know that?” he’s saying, fondly, as Chuuya shakes with sneeze after sneeze. It’s a wonder the gang’s right hand hasn’t discovered them yet.

Slowly, Chuuya comes up for air. He thanks some leviathan god that it’s dark, so he doesn’t have to look at what he’s done to Dazai’s coat. He’s not even going to look at Dazai, because this is probably one of the most humiliating things to happen to him in…well, not as long as Chuuya’d like to admit. This is Dazai, after all.

“Bless you,” Dazai says quietly. Chuuya’s head snaps to him because Dazai sounds wrong. Odd. Genuine. Ah, that’s why it took so long to place. Dazai rarely does sincere, and the few times he expresses genuine emotions tend to signify nothing good at all.

“Thank you,” Chuuya mutters between a clenched jaw because he may have made a mess of himself but he still has manners, goddammit. He blinks the remaining wetness from his eyes as he peers at Dazai for a suspended moment.

“Oh, and if you’re curious, the guy left five minutes ago.”

And the moment is over.

Chuuya jumps up. “You utter assho-ho–” He’s cut off by the familiar needling sensation at the back of his nose. Oh no you don’t. Jamming a fist under his septum hard enough to bruise, he points a finger at Dazai.

“I despise you,” he hisses. “All thihh…th…hih…”

Dazai holds a hand to his ear. “What was that?”

Chuuya shakes his head with a tickly sniff in hopes that his nose will make up its mind and move from where it’s currently settled—in the burning, stinging place between sneeze and not sneeze that’s driving him even more up the wall than Dazai is.

Dazai cocks his head at just the right angle that a piece of hair falls into his eyes. “That sneeze looks troublesome,” he observes. “Is it stuck? Like Chuuya’s growth spurt?”

Chuuya growls and kicks a nearby chair leg for good measure, now that they don’t have to concern themselves with being quiet. The sound is hollow and echoes across the large cathedral chamber.

There’s a wrinkled, damp spot on one side of Dazai’s overcoat that Chuuya pointedly avoids looking at. The crazy bastard had let him do that, all for, what? Funsies? To torture him? Chuuya will unpack that for later. It never bodes well to try to make sense of Dazai’s brain. Besides, the much-needed sneeze is still eluding him. If he could just–just…

“Hih…Hept! Hh…Fuck! Shit!”

Dazai sighs. “Okay, I can’t watch this,” he says, striding over to Chuuya. “Stay still, Chibi.”

Chuuya glares at him, irritation evident in his eyes and in his raw, wide-blown nostrils. “If you’re doi��g anythi’g other thad helpi’g, Dazai, I will obliterate you,” he says darkly, throat crackling and sore.

Dazai grins wide. “Relax,” he says. He wiggles a finger. “I know Chuuya’s sneeze spot.”

“What the fuck even is a—” Dazai presses a finger to the bridge of Chuuya’s nose, in the center, and gives it a circular rub back and forth. Chuuya stumbles back and manages a wavering, shaky curse in French before he snaps forward with a fusillade of unrestrained sneezes.

“Hih-ASHHHu! Hep’ASHHU! AHSSHU! AHSSH! AHSSHH! AHSSHU! Merde!…Heh-heh…hih’ASHHU!”

Chuuya sneezes and sneezes, for once uncaring about decorum. It’s a miracle his hat doesn’t fly off. He’s so overcome with finally scratching the itch in his nose that he almost doesn’t feel the tap at his shoulder. Dazai’s extending a packet of tissues that look like they were newly purchased.

“Goodness! I don’t know whether to bless Chuuya or call an exorcist,” he remarks.

“Shut up,” Chuuya mutters around a tissue. With that annoyance out of the way, it’s seeping in just how awful he feels. He sighs, heavy, and rubs at a temple. “Nom de dieu…”

“I really don’t know how someone so little can sneeze with such ferocity,” continues Dazai, ignoring Chuuya. It’s easy to say the man was put on this earth for the sole purpose of making Chuuya’s life miserable. “Hih…ASHHU!” Chuuya’s head gives a throb and things slide out of focus for a minute. He coughs, rough, and pushes some sweaty hair away from his face. How unsightly.

“Oh, and Chuuya?” Dazai makes a burlesque of leaning in and peering at him. “The next time you’re sick, call in, okay?” And then he reaches one lanky arm over and pats Chuuya’s head.

“I never said I was sick,” Chuuya snaps, jerking out of reach. Dazai makes to poke his nose again, but Chuuya evades him with a hoarse snarl. “Stop.”

In response, Dazai gives him a condescending look that Chuuya knows well. It’s the one where he purses his lips and crinkles up his large, dark eyes. The one he knows infuriates Chuuya the most. “Please,” he says, waving a hand. “I knew before we even got here. Just wanted to see how long you could keep it up.”

Chuuya opens his mouth to utter some expletive, he doesn’t know which one yet, but the sneezy feeling decides to return—bristling like a thousand tiny whiskers along the rims of his inner nose. Stifling it to refute Dazai’s point will only make his head pound harder, so Chuuya wrenches to the side with a sneeze. Which, naturally, makes him cough.

“Hmmm, you really don’t sound good, Chuuya.”

“Fuck you.”

Dazai makes a face. “Ew, no thanks. But since you’re already paying for my dry cleaning, why don’t I treat you to a nice bowl of leek soup and tea?”

Dazai is so confusing at times Chuuya could strangle him. Or at least blame him for the acute emotional whiplash.

“Hh’ASSHu! AHSSH! J'en peux plus…” Chuuya twitches his nose to the side and straightens his hat. “Whatever—let’s just find that drive and get the hell out of here so I can go to bed,” he grumbles. It’s not exactly a refusal (because tea does in fact sound nice), but Chuuya is more than done with this place.

“You mean this?” Dazai wiggles a little USB between two bandaged fingers. Chuuya sputters. “Yup. Found it ages ago and switched it with a fake.”

“AAH?!”

— Fin —

[nametakensff]

Some vaguely fetishy headshots of K/im and H/arry from D/isco E/lysium. There's a short fic I've written about them that I want to post sometime soon as well...and probably more to come after that 🤡 Never thought I'd get to this point but here I am. So.

[kushami-hime]

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! 

MINORS DNI. NON KINK BLOGS DO NOT REBLOG!

[waterfallofspace]

53 and 55 for d/azai and ch/uuya (the sick one 👁👁) perhaps please if you would like… <3

Thank you so much for the ask/request!! These have been so fun hahaha~~ I did get just a touch angsty/fever heavy towards the end, so hopefully that's alright, I promise it's not super serious! I also did want to include a little french, and while I did take it in school, I remember less than nothing, soooo this is all thanks to google, therefore I apologize for anything inconsistent/incorrect! [ Putain de merde = Holy shit ] [ À tes souhaits = Bless you ] [ Merde = Shit ] [ Je dois = I've got to ] 2.1k words, prompts 53 and 55, story under the cut! ~Part Two/Continuation Post Here~ 53. "Bless you?" 55. "You sound awful." (References to mild violence, high fevers, and swearing just in case anyone doesn't like any of those!)

~~~~~~~

Dazai is nothing if not observant. There is hardly a single detail in any given encounter he hasn’t seen, or predicted. Which is why he finds it almost insulting that people always insist on ‘hiding things’ from him. Especially his former partner. 

‘Chuuya still seems to believe, incorrectly and against all odds, that I won’t notice if somethings wrong. Something such as the cough he was suppressing that was shaking his frail little form. Or the pink tint around his nose. The nose he couldn’t stop touching throughout our encounter.’

This is how Dazai came to be leaning against a wall outside a pharmacy. And if it just so happens to be the pharmacy a certain hat-adorned Mafioso frequents, wouldn’t that be a strange coincidence. ‘Any minute now, don’t keep me waiting- Ah. Here we go~.’

Chuuya steps out of the store, a gloved hand pinching his rapidly trembling nose. ‘He must have been trying not to sneeze the whole time he was in the store. Aw~! That’s just adorable. It’s practically famous within the Port Mafia that our dear Chibi can’t hold back to save his little, tiny, life. Well, time to announce myself!’ Dazai smirks, pushing off the wall and stepping into Chuuya’s line of sight. 

“Chuuuuuya~! What a surprise, running into you here!”

“heH’EK- fuck!”

“Uh, bless you?”

“Damn it you idiot, you scared it away.” 

Dazai lets his mouth twitch, a smile threatening to break through at the look of annoyance on Chuuya’s face, nose practically twitching with unreleased tickles. He snapped his hand away from his face the second he saw Dazai, but they both know he’s just itching to bring it back up, pun intended. ‘Oh this will be even more fun then I’d foreseen.’

“S- scared away the sneeze..? Is even Chuuya’s nose easily startled?”

“Eh?! I- You- oh whatever. What the fuck ar- hahEHhh… hePT-!huhh… Damn it- What are you doing here, Dazai?”

It’s practically a growl, and Dazai doesn’t miss the way Chuuya’s hand twitches as he presses it firmly into a fist against his side. ‘You wanna rub so badly, don’t you? I wonder how long you’ll be able to hold out. Judging by that glaze coating your eyes, I’d say not long, but hey, I out of anyone know how stubborn you can be. Shall we test your resolve, Chuuya~?’ 

“I was just passing through this part of town, and happened to notice the sky starting to look a tad cloudy, so I figured I’d duck under a nice dry roof! Just so happens to be of a pharmacy- say, what is Chuuya doing in a pharmacy anyways?”

“Nothing.”

“Wow, you bought a bag just for nothing? Seems a bit of a waste.”

Chuuya’s eyes roll, teeth clenching as he snarls, both of them knowing that any other time, he would have aimed a punch at Dazai for that. 'And we both know why you didn't. Little preoccupied there, Chuuya?' Dazai studies him carefully, noticing the way his mouth is starting to twitch right along with his nose, the itch seemingly spreading across his whole face.

“I bought some pain medication, alright? I get hurt a lot in this job, and I was running low.” 

“Doesn’t the Port Mafia supply the good stuff? Why settle for cheap store bought?”

“I- I jus- Why do you even care! Doesn’t the ‘great Dazai’ have better things to do?”

“Awe~ You think I’m great? Chuuya~ you flatter me!” 

Chuuya opens his mouth to retort, but what falls out instead of a cough that he quickly attempts to suppress, ducking into his hand and spinning on his heel, away from Dazai. ‘It’s a futile effort, I can still clearly see your body shaking. I think you know that.’

“Oh Chuuya, are you not feeling well?”

“Sh- huHh-! Really? Of all the times to come bahhHh- back… hePT’NNSHH’oo-! hAh’IZZSHHAA-! heHh… AhHH-! ahH’YZZSHH’iuh-!”

“Bless you.”

“Shut up, bandage factory. J- just leave me alone, I have things to do.” 

Dazai notices the roughness of Chuuya’s voice as he lowers it, adding a growl in an attempt to make it seem intentional. ‘You must be feeling worse than I thought, a couple sneezes and a cough shouldn’t be enough to wreck your throat. Unless, of course, you’ve been doing it non-stop for days.’

“Well my schedule is completely clear, so I think I’ll just hang out with Chuuya for awhile! Where are we going next?”

“There is absolutely not a ‘we’. I am going back to my apartment. Alone.”

“Aw- come on, don’t be like that!”

“Ge- hehHh… get lost… hH’KZZZSHH’iuh-! Fucking… Ehh’knGSHH’aa-!” 

“Double blessings for the double sneeze! Keep up the doubles and you’ll start sounding like me.”

“A fate worse than death, truly.”

Dazai clutches his chest, an arm draping across his face in mock hurt, making sure to keep one eye trained on the shorter man. ‘He’s practically trembling. It’s chilly out, but not enough for that reaction, especially not for someone like him. It’s most likely a fever, but it could just be exhaustion. I’ll need an excuse to get in close to check.’

“You wound me!”

“I’d certainly like to. hah’gNNShh’aa-! hh’ETZZSHH’iuh-!”

“Quite a threat, if only you could back it up. Alas, I fear this illness has reduced you to the level of a mere goon. Certainly not an executive in the elite Port Mafia.” 

The words work exactly how he’d planned, a closed fist hitting Dazai squarely in the chest as the shorter man lunges at him, giving Dazai every opportunity to let his hand brush against Chuuya’s forehead. ‘He’s burning up. With the clouds gathering faster than I’d foreseen, I’d better get him off the street and fast, otherwise we’re looking at an outcome I’d rather avoid.’ A grunt breaks free from Dazai’s throat as Chuuya finishes the attack with a kick right to his gut. 

“That feel like a sick man’s blow? Didn’t think so. D- damn it… hAhhHh-!” 

Dazai pauses, leaning back against the wall to watch the show unfold. Chuuya has a gloved hand gripping his nose once more, eyes starting to gloss over as they lose focus. His hand is trembling, eyes starting to water. ‘Tsk tsk. We both know you can’t hold this back, are you really going to break your nose in an attempt to? Sorry, I just can’t have that.’ 

“Even Akutagawa can punch harder than that, Chuuya.” 

“Eh?!” 

Chuuya’s eyes snap to him, his hand wavers, and just like that, Dazai knows he’s won. The loss in focus, even for a second, is enough to give Chuuya’s nose the upper hand, its twitching visible from between the cracks in his fingers. ‘Checkmate.’ 

“ih’KNXT’chh-!”

Dazai bites back a wince at the way the stifle seems to scrape at Chuuya’s throat, a hiss escaping through his clenched teeth as his breath catches once more. ‘Bad idea, Chuuya. You know that’s just gonna make you-’ 

“eH’KnGT’chhh-! inGT’chh-! GNT’chh-! heHh… dTnxxgt’chhh-! hH’KNgT’choo-! hEH’INGSHH’AA-!”

‘And there it is.’

“You gon-”

“AAISHHH’OO-! ATSHH’AA-! hH’INGSHH’AA-! heh’ASSHH’iuh-!”

“-gonna live, Chuuya?”

“hNGGSHH’OO-! Shut- nnMMGSHHH’AA-! Shut up- hH’INMSHHH’IUH-! S- slug… heAhh-!”

A deep chest soaked cough starts pouring out between the sneezes, rattling Chuuya to his bones, and sending chills down Dazai’s back. He nearly flinches as Chuuya falls against the wall, using it to study him as the wet coughs shake through his lungs. He manages to catch his breath, tears freely flowing down his cheeks, just to have it sucked out of him again as another round of sneezing starts up.

“hEH’NNGSHH’AA-! eh’KETSCHhh’iuh-! heP’TZZSHH’aa-! Putain de merde!”

“Doing french, are we? Well then, À tes souhaits, Chibi.” 

“Whatev-”

The hoarse quality of Chuuya’s voice, barely above a whisper causes them both to pause, a wince escaping across Dazai’s features before he can mask it. Chuuya’s eyes widen, the panic in them seeming to seep into Dazai’s very soul. They stand for a minute, eyes locked, before Chuuya straightens his into a glare once more.

“You sound awful.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m just saying. You should really have taken some medicine for that.”

“That.. was the plan.. before you.. interrupted me..” 

Dazai can’t help but grimace at the harsh whisper, Chuuya attempting to lower his voice to a growl to make it sound intentional, but they both know no one’s buying it. ‘I really need to get him home and get him to take some medication. If he gets caught in the rain like this, it’ll be bad.’

Making sure to catch Chuuya’s eye, Dazai lets his hand slip into his pocket, pulling a dose of medication out, the kind you won’t find at any pharmacy. He smirks at the flash of desire that Chuuya doesn’t manage to hide.

“Whoops, guess that one’s my bad. In that case, this will just have to go to waste, I suppose. Since you have your own, and I was so rudely uninvited to your apartment.” 

“You.. can’t be uninvited.. to something you.. weren’t invited to.. in the first place.. hH’RSHH’AA-! oww…” 

They both flinch at the sneeze, Dazai letting his concentration slip for just a second. However, a second is all Chuuya needs, planting a roundhouse kick on Dazai’s arm as he snatches the vial, taking a swig before sticking it in his own pocket. Dazai raises an eyebrow at this, cheshire smile painted across his face, but a hint of something much more genuine in his eyes.

“What aggression Chuuya! You should really try some anger management classes to get that rage under control.” 

“I didn’t have.. anger issues.. until I had the misfortune.. of meeting you..” 

“Oh yes~. You were just a ray of sunshine when I first met you! Definitely no thinly repressed rage bubbling just below the surface that boiled over every time anything happened.”

“Oi.. are you trying.. to get punched again.. jackass..? eH’KtSHH’iuh-! Christ.. hASHHH’AA-!”

“Save your energy, you’ll need it. And besides, I’ve taken quite enough of a beating today.” 

Chuuya doesn’t respond, ‘Electing to save your voice too, are you? Smart, given how quickly it’s fading’ but he does give Dazai a nasty look, raising his hand to scrub at his nose once more. Dazai feels a swell of concern in his chest at how unashamed his former partner has grown about his rapidly increasing symptoms. ‘The medicine should kick in within the hour… but I doubt you’ll make it home on your own before then.’ 

“huh’KKSHH’AA-! hEIYYSHHH’iuh-! nNGT’chh-! eh’INGT’chhh-! M- merde… Je d- dois… ehH’hEZZSHH’aihh-!”

A hand is casually raised as Chuuya attempts to cover, aiming for his shoulder with a hazy look that isn’t like him. ‘Damn it, I was hoping to avoid this outcome-’ Dazai manages to think, getting cut off, just as he foresaw, as Chuuya collapses into himself. A strong grasp catches the smaller man, Dazai letting out a huff at the weight suddenly in his arms. 

“Easy there, still with me?”

A weak nod is his response, the glassy nature of Chuuya’s eyes suggesting the fever has grown worse. Touching his forehead, Dazai winces again at the heat, ‘Definitely gotten worse. The game is over, I’m taking you home now.’ Without a word, he lifts Chuuya into his arms, not missing the grunt he gets in response.

“You can fight me, and risk falling on your face, or you can just let me help you.”

Chuuya growls, but lets his eyes flutter shut, ducking away from Dazai and into his shoulder as another set of exhausted sneezes tears out of him. 

“heh’nNKjschh’uhh-! ah’mmKNschh’uhh-! hehHhh-! hEH’IZZSHH’iuhh-! Guhh..”

“Bless you. Can you stand, or shall I carry you?”

Dazai easily dodges the fist aimed his way, but doesn’t miss the way Chuuya shakes at the force of his own weight. Without a word, he moves Chuuya’s arm back over his shoulders, letting the man lean against him. There’s a certain level of unease when someone’s relying on you to walk, and yet, with the two of them, this is an all-too-familiar sensation.

“Let’s get you home, partner. The medication will kick in soon.”

“Not.. your partn-”

“Save your voice, it’s physically painful for me to listen to you. I can feel my own throat starting to ache.”

A dirty look is shot his way before Chuuya’s eyes flutter shut once more, not even bothering to turn his head away, instead aiming the sneezes towards the ground in front of them. Dazai grimaces, not from the possibility of germs, instead, entirely from the concern that washes through him at the lack of shame.

“heH’DTZSHH’AA-! AIISHH’oo-! ehh’gnSHHH’iuh-!”

“Bless you.”

“Save.. your breath.. stupid Dazai..”

“Hey, at least you still have that temper! I’d be really worried if that was gone.” 

“Just.. take me home..”

Dazai lets a smile wash over his face, a warmth replacing the panic in his chest as Chuuya leans into his touch as they start the journey. ‘I’ll keep you safe, partner. Leave it to me.’

Without a word spoken between them, he knows he was heard and understood, just as he understands the response. 

‘I trust you.’

[fuzzyy-moth]

goddd i wish i was tied up while a cute person induces me to sneeze, teasing my sensitive nasal cavity with fluffy feathers until i can’t take it anymore

[opposedsnzs]

I might just be late to the train but i haven't seen any content. but,, st/ardew valley, the yrge to make fics (maybe potential art??) is so strong cause my god

I've been playing it a lot lately and.. yeah

Would that be something interesting to people??

[mikikunchik]

My mini sneezing headcanons on bsd.

(Victims: G/ogol, S/igma, F/yodor, D/azai)

(Sorry if there are any mistakes, I'm using Google translator)

~

Gogol: I think he sneezes many times in a row (about 5-7) his sneezes are very fast and small, quite quiet and weak, also there is a little squeak, I like to imagine him covering his mouth with part of his cloak (I got this idea after I saw Gogol and Atsushi meeting in the anime, he covered his mouth with his cloak for a few seconds, I'll attach a picture) also I think he has quite wet sneezes. He blesses every time someone sneezes, it's like a game to him, sometimes he can bless in Russian, he also rubs his nose after sneezing with his index finger, it would be cool if he was allergic to feathers

Sigma: I think he sneezes 3 times each but they get very stuck, if he is not alone he will try to hide it but when left alone he will walk around for a few minutes and look up to sneeze, he is very hygienic and worries about the people around him, in a business setting he stifles sneezes between his fingers, if alone he can sneeze into his elbow, also says blessing, likes to be blessed in an informal setting his sneezes make him bend, as he has not sneezed so often in his life to get used to them, his nose turns quite red, sneezes dry but loud if not restrained, I think he may be allergic to lavender.

Fedor: sneezes once, but very wet and loud, quite wet, and his nose is clogged afterwards, he has quite an itch before sneezing, but he can control it, I think he has a Russian-sounding sneeze as well as one deep breath before sneezing, doesn't pinch, and doesn't worry about it, I think he might be allergic to flowers and cats.

Dazai: sneezes quite Japanese, always 2 times in a row, don't try to cover much, sniffles after sneezing, but not as much as Fedor, his sneezing is quite sharp, sometimes he doesn't know when it will come to him, although he can control his body well, dirty sneezes, quite a lot of splashing, no build-up, sneezing is loud, also he adds his voice to it, sometimes for fun or to piss someone off, I like to think he's allergic to dust.

Thank you for your attention.💕🫶🌸🥂🌹🤍💐

P. S. I am attaching a photo of Gogol with a raincoat so that you understand what I mean

[rosy-bless]

just found a wav where they said “good boy” after stifling and now all i can think about is a dom stifling for their sneezefucker partner with a praise kink who’s been told to edge himself while they induce

[kitti-bun]

Hi, Im Kitti

Alittle about me: I’m lesbian, I have a beautiful cat named stripes love him, and I love cereal lol

Minors DNI

Iv had the Fet for a whiiile lol my favorite sneezes are..

• Wet sneezes

• holdbacks

• vocal buildups

• desperate sneezes

• big fan of mess (only clear )

I like Male and Female sneezes

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The d/s dynamic Iv been into I love reading stories about it, i haven’t had one but maybe one day ☺️ I consider my self as Submissive and I love it 🥰

(Decided to fix this lol)

[softsnzstuff]

pls drop the list of episodes of supernatural where characters are sick/sneeze or the actors are sick. i need it desperately

I gotchu!!! It’s a long list pls bear with me 🫡

S1E12 “Faith” - Dean is pretty sick and they try to heal him with faith

S2E11 “Playthings” - Sam is hungover (tw emeto)

S4E6 “Yellow Fever” - Dean gets an illness that makes him scared of everything but also I think there’s some coughing if I recall

S4E8 “Wishful Thinking” - Dean food poisoning (tw emeto)

S5E12 “Swap Meat” - Sam switches bodies with a teen who is allergic to gluten (?) (tw emeto)

S5E15 “Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid” - loved ones are rising from the dead to be reunited with their families, however after a certain amount of time they “go bad” and get sick before turning on them

S5E19 “Hammer of the Gods” - I remember hearing J/ared P/adalecki was sick during this episode and you can sort of hear it in his voice. It’s subtle tho.

****S5E21 “Two Minutes to Midnight” - episode opens with Sam and Dean hunting for Pestilence, the fourth horseman of the apocalypse. As they get nearer to him they get sick, feeling faint, phlegmy coughing, etc. It’s honestly wild. But also (tw emeto other characters, not them)

S6E5 “Live Free or Twi-Hard” - Dean turns into a vampire and in the end v*mits out the vampireness??? (Tw emeto)

S7E?? - One of the episodes where Castiel is a leviathan; specifically the one where he stands there and black goo comes out of his mouth eyes and ears - Misha Collins had a stomach bug or food poisoning or something while filming

***S8E19-21 “Taxi Driver” thru “Great Escapist” - Sam is battling trials against Hell or something and he gets sick and develops a cough. Dean comes at him with soho and a thermometer and it’s all v domestic and classic sick episode

S10E5 “Fan Fiction” - NOT a sick episode but I love this one. 10/10 recommend.

——please note I stopped watching during S11 cuz I feel like it went downhill. Personal opinion sorry, but probably there’s episodes in the middle here that have illness or whump——

S13E13 “Devils Bargain” - Lucifer is in a weakened state

S15E10 “Heroes Journey” - Sam and Dean’s luck runs out. This whole episode Sam has a cold and is sneezing and such

At some point the kid, Jack (?), I think gets sick but idk what season or episode that is if someone else can weigh in.

ALSO there are definitely YouTube clips of the main 3 sneezing (Jared, Jensen and Misha) -KB

[hachiibun]

Thanks to @goodlucksnez for helping me out by commissioning me! Sending well wishes to you, Vic!!

If you like my drawings, please consider sending a little something my way through ko-fi ☕! I don't have a steady source of income rn and I'll be opening commissions again soon, but every bit helps to keep me living decently and I really appreciate it!

❗ PLEASE NO REBLOGGING TO NON-KINK BLOGS ❗

[waterfallofspace]

Ah!!! I love your fics so much!! If it's not too much, could I request some kink!skk (with chuuya as the victim haha >:)

prompts:

86,82,30,24

Thank you, and I'm sorry I made you wait so long for this!!! (hooopefully it'll be worth it <3)

This one did take a bit to write, but I had a lot of fun with it, kink D/azai is really fun to play around with hehe~ I had a bunch of ideas of how he might react, and I tried to pick one that fit the narrative the prompts set up~ Hope you enjoy!

2.5k words, prompts 24, 30, 83, 86, story under cut!

24. “You’re a complete mess, but I don’t care.” 30. “What’s got you all worked up?” 82. Sneezing during makeout/sex.  86. Person A sneezes and catches B blushing and asks. B decides to tell them about the kink.

(References to swearing, light violence, and heavy makeout session, no actual super smutty things, but there is an implication that it will take place post-story, in case you don't like any of that!)

~~~~~~~

“Fuck.” 

It scrapes off Chuuya’s tongue, a headache forming as he surveys the sight awaiting him. After a quick scan, his eyes rest on Dazai. The walking annoyance simply smirks, tilting back in his chair. The hinges scream with a fury Chuuya can relate to. 

“Quite the foul greeting. Whatever happened to hello?” Dazai remarks, standing from the chair with another awful screech. Chuuya feels his fists clench, stepping back involuntarily. This seems to delight Dazai, the impulse to throw something pulsing through Chuuya’s mind. 

“I have information about a case you guys took that the Port Mafia was… loosely involved in.” 

Chuuya attempts to lean against the wall in a show of nonchalance, Dazai’s expression remaining unreadable as ever. With a hard swallow, Chuuya fights the urge to sniffle as it spreads through his rapidly twitching nose. There's a slightly sweet scent lingering in the air. 

Clearing his throat, Chuuya breaks the silence with a noticeably stuffier, “Where’s your boss?”

“Out,” Dazai flaunts, gesturing around the empty office and leaning against the wall as his arms lock behind his head. 

As the ability to smell starts to fade, Chuuya feels his patience wear thin, each breath growing thick. “Kunikida then?”

“Out.”

“Kenji?” 

Desperation starts to flood his voice as Chuuya lets a single finger flick across the bridge of his nose. Another sniffle threatens to break through, only being held back as Dazai points a look his way. 

Chuuya attempts to avoid it, but eventually caves, the grin meeting him sending shivers of irritation shooting through each nerve until they reach a final resting spot at the tip of his nose. With a final twitch, the tickle that had been waiting on the sideline decides it’s time for a debut. 

“It’s Chuuya’s lucky day, I’m the only one around! That means you get the honour of telling me your ‘important information’.” Seemingly oblivious to the struggles, Dazai continues with his taunts. “Don’t worry, I’ll pass it along,”

“No fucking way. I’ll- hehh.. I’ll cohhme… come back another time.” 

“Really, Chuuya? And risk Mori being disappointed in you? I mean, he did tell you it was urgent, did he not?” Dazai coos, spinning on his heel and gliding back to his desk. He shoots Chuuya a grin over his shoulder. “Do you really wanna defy his direct order?” 

A snarl nips at Chuuya’s lip, retort dying on his tongue as the itch swells once more. Dazai’s still facing the desk, starting to lower himself into the chair, and Chuuya waits until the hinges screech again, hiding his- “hh’kngt-!” under the noise. 

“You should get that shit fixed,” Chuuya says, feigning annoyance as Dazai’s eyes light up. ‘If I make him believe it’s getting to me, he’ll screech it a few more times just to get on my nerves.’ Breath catching, Chuuya brushes a knuckle against his nose, meeting Dazai’s eye with a growl. “It’s fucking irritating.” 

“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed!” 

The statement is punctuated with another creak, Dazai swivelling around to face the window. Taking the opportunity, Chuuya ducks into his fist for a tight stifle, another slipping out on its heels. 

“ek’dnxt-! nkXT’shh-!” 

Risking a glance towards the chair, Chuuya grits his teeth as Dazai stares back. Caught in the act his fist drops onto the table, pouring into a seat across the desk from the bastard. Dazai’s eyes never leave his own. There’s something in them that seems almost captivated. 

As Chuuya’s own chair squeaks in objection, he’d swear Dazai mumbled something that sounded like ‘bless’ under his breath. Eyebrow raising, he sputters, “Wh- what was that?” 

Dazai opens his mouth, nothing but a breath cutting into the tense silence. Chuuya simply blinks, shock radiating through his mind. It seems this is equally surprising to Dazai, his eyes widening. With more effort than Chuuya’s comfortable noticing, Dazai pulls a masked grin back over his cheeks.

“I asked if something’s bothering Chuuya?” 

“Shut up you bastard,” Chuuya returns. Right back to furious, the hesitation forgotten, he lets out a low growl. Dazai smirks at this, raising an eyebrow as Chuuya opens his mouth to speak again. 

Any words that may have been on their way are replaced by hitching, hand snapping to his nose to catch it just a second too late. Another shaky breath spills out, Chuuya not missing the way Dazai flinches at the display. He’s never been one to care about germs, the uncertainty making the situation feel tense. 

Aiming towards his shoulder, Chuuya stifles the first two, “hn’kgxtt-! eh’knXT-!” before a wave of itch breaks through his defenses for a final “eh’kESHhh’iuu-!” 

A gloved hand is raised the instant it breaks through, but he’s not quick enough to stifle. With a sharp breath, Chuuya prepares to fight off the onslaught of remarks. Instead, his attention is drawn to Dazai’s demeanor. The bastard seems unable to meet Chuuya’s eyes, teeth digging into his lip with a ferocity that seems almost painful.

“What’s got you all worked up?” Slips out before Chuuya can stop it. The comment seems to hit like a bullet, Dazai’s posture shifting to that of a cornered animal. It’s not an uncommon look among the Port Mafia, but Dazai has never shared it. He’s always in control, at all times, in any situation.

“Just…” Dazai starts, an unsettling level of calm appearing to settle over him, the tension just below the surface impossible for Chuuya to ignore. Dazai continues with his complaint, either oblivious to the shake in his voice, or all too aware. “Thinking about all the paperwork I’m gonna have to do since you told me about this.” 

“You do realize I have- uh… I haven’t actually tohhld…” Chuuya feels his breath catch, attempting to power through as his voice wavers dangerously. “hehhh- have… haven’t… hnk-! guhh… Actually told you ahhnything.” 

Chuuya scans the room again, each inhale seeming to bring a new rush of irritation. Finally his eyes land on the vase sitting on Ranpo’s desk. A vase overflowing with white flowers that seem to glow against the dark offices. Dazai attempts to follow his gaze, a smirk forming as he notices where it leads. 

“Shit.” Chuuya hisses, just the look of them making his eyes water. 

“What’s wrong Chuuya?” Dazai purrs, swooping around the desk to sit right in front of the struggling man. Chuuya attempts to throw a punch, but Dazai easily dodges it, laughter flooding his next comment. “You have a problem with something so dainty?”

“Huh!? You- that’s… that’s not… I don’t… hehHh- fuhhck… ahHh!” 

His hand begins lifting, aiming to pinch his nose again. Before it can reach the target, Chuuya feels Dazai’s hand against his bare arm. He flinches at the sudden contact, feeling the powerlessness surge through him as his gift is sucked away. 

It’s followed by a secondary wave of deeper vulnerability. The kind that he knows would remain even if his gift wasn’t suppressed. A kind that comes from the unexplainably personal way Dazai’s skin feels against his own. Dazai remains perfectly still, eyes locked with Chuuya’s. 

“What the fuck are you-” Chuuya starts, cutting himself off as Dazai simply blinks. Before he has a chance to continue, Chuuya feels the tickle object to the interruption. 

One hand still being occupied, he ducks into his un-held wrist with a sneeze he’s only able to half stifle. “eh’kxnshhh’oo-!” The next breaks free completely, “hah’kiESHhh’oo-! Fuck-” a curse following on it’s tail. A third begins to form, but it’s held off by the audible whimper that breaks from Dazai’s flushed face. 

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Chuuya gawks, his mouth falling open. The itch long forgotten as Dazai studies the floor with increasing intensity. He mutters something barely audible above the faint hum of the office. 

Huffing, Chuuya spits a harsh, “Speak up, you moron.” 

Dazai pales, his blush darkening. He manages to drag his eyes from the floor, resting them in Chuuya’s. There’s a nervous energy to him that leaves Chuuya breathless. 

“I like it better when you let them out.” The response is louder this time, but still quiet for Dazai.

“Let them…?” Chuuya questions, mind scrambling to put the pieces together under Dazai’s intense gaze. His nose decides to rush the process, the tickle blooming once more. A shudder runs through his nose as it quivers, breath catching in his throat. Across from him, Dazai’s entire body twitches in response. ‘Oh?’ 

“hk’iiESHHh’oo-!” 

Aiming this one for his wrist again, Chuuya allows it to escape completely unstifled. Testing a theory. Sure enough Dazai hisses out a faint moan. ‘Oh.’ The grip on Chuuya’s arm tightens as he lets another hitch build, Dazai practically shivering. It dies before reaching his nose, leaving Chuuya almost as breathless as Dazai. 

“Really?” Chuuya taunts, flashing Dazai a wicked look. 

“I know it’s… not normal…”

“What part of our lives is fucking ‘normal’ Dazai? Hell, what part of us is normal?” 

Relief floods Dazai’s eyes, quickly replaced by something cautious as Chuuya stands. ‘This is something I can, and intend, to use.’ Sweeping over to Ranpo’s desk, Chuuya can feel Dazai’s eyes clinging to him. Almost as if the man himself was pressed against his back, despite not moving from his position. 

Leaning towards the vase Chuuya takes a deep sniff, coughing slightly as the pollen invades his sinuses. A fierce tickle burns through his nose, lashes fluttering as tears begin to pool. He barely gets a breath before ducking into his hands to stifle the fit. 

“hn’chh-! ih’knxgt-! hh’dnxxt-!” 

The stifles lift Dazai to his feet, pausing to give Chuuya a measured look. Chuuya shoots back a smirk, nearly drowned out by the desperation in his eyes as his lip curls before another “ek’dtnxt-! hh’inGT-!” break through. 

Before he can take another breath Chuuya finds himself being pushed against the desk, Dazai leaning over him. His hands are pulled away, passion burning through Dazai’s eyes, tongue slipping out between his lips.

“Hol- hold on… hehh… I’m… hahHh!” 

“I know,” Dazai responds, guiding Chuuya’s head towards his neck. 

“heh’IIESHh’oo-! hk’ehhSHHh’oo-!” Dazai bites his lip, a moan stifling itself in his throat as Chuuya buries his nose into the bare skin of his neck. 

“ek’yIESSHhh’oo-!” Shivers of pleasure run down Dazai’s spine as each- “hh’ehhKSHHh’oo-!” leaves him trembling. Chuuya smirks again as he pulls back, rubbing at his nose with a glove and sniffling desperately. 

“If I’d known this is all it took to get the Great Dazai so worked up, I would’ve done it ages ago.” Chuuya taunts, meeting Dazai’s gaze through watering eyes. 

Dazai pauses for a second, humming faintly under his breath, before a look floods his eyes. A grin claws its way over his face, Dazai practically baring his teeth. Chuuya braces himself, sucking in a breath just in time to be pulled off the desk. The breath is released in the form of a moan as Dazai slams him into the wall. 

The force knocks the wind out of him, Chuuya dragging his hands up Dazai’s hips to gain some balance as he catches his breath. Dazai takes this moment to seize Chuuya’s lips, as if he was claiming them for his own. 

Unable to draw air through his battered sinuses, Chuuya groans as the sensation brings the tickle surging to new heights. He pulls his hand off Dazai’s back, placing it on his chest with a shove, releasing himself from the kiss. 

Dazai huffs in protest, Chuuya responding with a shaky inhale, a tear falling from his lashes. It runs down his cheek, caressing the side of his nose as it flees. The desperation from his gasp leaves Dazai shaking, his teeth sinking back against his lip. 

“Neck.” 

The command isn’t answered, but it wasn’t designed to be. Instead, Chuuya merely gasps, aiming where he’s told as the fit begins anew. 

“hehhYIIESHhh’oo-! hehh- huh! hk’iieESHhh’oo-!”

“Bless you-” Dazai growls, head tilted back as Chuuya pulls him closer, rubbing his quivering nose against Dazai’s chin. The action comes with a moan of relief, Dazai echoing the noise with a different type of moan. 

“Oh god- heh’TESHhhoo-! Fucking hell… hahh- hek’DESHHhhoo-! Whew…” Chuuya feels a blush start to spread over his cheeks as he gets a breath in. “That was… hH’IESHhoo-! oh… a bit intense…” 

“Now who’s worked up?” Dazai taunts, offering a smug look at the new tint. 

Chuuya growls lightly in response, usually a sign of playful annoyance. However, they both notice how he seems to pull away slightly, tipping his hat to hide his face. Dazai lets a hand brush against his arm, retreating when he flinches under the contact.

Instead, Dazai brings a finger to Chuuya’s chin, tilting it up till their eyes meet. Chuuya watches the sincerity dancing in his gaze, something unfamiliar, but not frightening. They stay like that for a moment, drifting along in the connection. 

“You’re a complete mess, but I don’t care. Chuuya is my mess.” 

It’s such casual genuineness, and Chuuya finds himself unsure how to handle it. Dazai doesn’t waver, his fingers gently tracing up the side of Chuuya’s face until they brush the hat from his head, letting it fall to the ground. Before he has to figure out what to say, Chuuya feels the tickle bloom once more, and decides to lean into it. 

He locks onto Dazai’s lips, pulling their hips together, hands scratching at Dazai’s back as a shudder runs through them both. Chuuya’s breath hitches from inside the kiss, Dazai moaning against his lips in return. 

Waiting till the last second, Chuuya breaks away to aim down at Dazai’s chest- “hek’iiEISHh’oo-!” -before pulling him back in again. Responding in kind, Dazai knocks him back against the wall, pining his hands above his head. Chuuya buries his face back in Dazai’s neck as another “hehh- eh’tiESSHHhhoo-!” rushes out. 

They repeat this cycle a few more times, hips grinding together as each sneeze wracks Chuuya’s body, shivers beginning to melt the last ounce of Dazai’s composure. Finally with a final “ah’YIESHhhoo-!” Chuuya pulls back, a wicked fire dancing in his eyes. Both of them are panting, for different and yet similar reasons. 

Dazai breaks first, his voice low and harsh, “Couch.”

“No way in hell,” Chuuya retorts, matching the pitch with a snarl of his own. 

The response to this is not of the verbal nature, instead, Dazai pushes him back against the wall. He brings his lips closer, as if for another kiss, before grabbing Chuuya’s lip with his teeth. Chuuya moans in response, hands back around Dazai’s waist. 

As he releases his grasp, Dazai slides his mouth up to Chuuya’s ear, his breath light as he murmurs sweetly, “Couch~”

“Couch it is,” Chuuya growls, reaching up and gripping Dazai’s hair. He pulls his head up and ducks to bite at his neck, earning a whimper. “But you- hehh… hk’IEShhhoo-! You owe me.” 

“Yes,” Dazai murmurs, tilting his head back to meet Chuuya’s eyes. “I suppose I do.” 

As they slide over to the couch, Chuuya makes a mental note to return to the mall and buy that cologne he’d found while searching for new gloves. At the time, he’d deemed the effect it had unpleasant, but now…? 

Now he’s starting to feel quite differently.  

[fuzzyy-moth]

THIS BLOG IS 18+ ONLY! MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

this post will be updated as needed

(old username was fuzzy-goblin)

hi! you can call me moth! i’m a 22 y/o submissive queer trans man, and my pronouns are he/it and i’m autistic! i’m poly and i have two (long distance) partners

my special interests include rammstein, horror films, insects, animals, art, cryptids, and metal!

this blog will sometimes post/reblog kink content, so if that’s not your cup of tea, don't follow me

that being said, my kinks are:

tickling (i’m a lee-leaning switch)

feet/shoes

feathers and feather dusters

sneezing/allergies

bdsm/bondage

pet play

feederism

praise and light degradation

breathplay/choking

spanking/impact play

mild musk/smell play

light cnc/intox (only weed)

monsters and anthros

some names i like to be called:

pup/puppy

kitty

slut/slutty boy

whore

sweetie

handsome

honey

some tags i’ll use for posts:

#fuzzy-asks: answering asks

#fuzzy-irl: pics of me (some may be nsfw)

#hot people: reblogs of other peoples’ pics (mostly nsfw)

do not interact if you post any of my limits:

sexualizing actual minors

real life g0re/extreme pain play

guns

safeword violations

death/necro

probably more that i’m forgetting

i have trauma around certain kinks, so i will not hesitate to block you if you post anything that makes me uncomfortable

my dms are open for anyone who wants to rp or talk! as long as you’re respectful of me and my limits :)

my discord is fuzzyymoth! just let me know you added me from tumblr if you add me there

if you would like to support me, my cashapp is https://cash.app/$mothmanshusband !