tg's annual sneezefic meme (2019)

[tarotgal]

Directions:

1. Post prompts. Any fandom (original fic allowed as well) and any pairing, as long as there is potential sneezing involved character. There is no limit to how many prompts you can post.
2. Please warn for anything current that might be potentially spoilery!
3. Prompt posting will be open while there's interest, most likely until this time next year
4. Reply to any prompts you like with art/drabbles/ficlets/fics in parts/links to fics in your blog. The entry must not be friends-locked.
5. Please warn for anything that might be a trigger including something an emetophobe like me might have a problem with.
6. Prompts can have as many fills as people feel like writing. Just because one person has filled a prompt doesn't mean you can't write for that prompt as well. Different spins on the same thing are absolutely welcome!
7. There will be no deadline for fic responses. If you see a prompt you like and want to write it, go ahead!
8. There's no limit to how many you can write either. WRITE THEM ALL!
9. Please feel free to pimp this on any communities and forums you think would be interested in this.
10. You are allowed to repost prompts from previous or other memes. If the prompt belongs to someone else, just give them credit. You're also more than welcome to reprompt your own!
11. My birthday is April 19. I'm just saying...

Have fun, everybody!

Fills:

Castlevania
Sneezing and wearing fingerless gloves.
Water Demons by vergoftowels

Marvel
"Wow. How many times have you sneezed today?"
"I don't know, I lost count."
A Head Cold, Exhaustion, and a Complicated Washing Machine by tarotgal

Middle Earth
It's a bit embarrassing to be the only Elf with allergies. Luckily, the elf's significant other finds it more than a little endearing.
Suffering is Temporary by tarotgal

Original Characters
A character has a cold but just feels a little like sneezing from it. The character doesn't have allergies but does get an itchy nose at really powerful scents. Combine the two and the character has to sneeze so badly!
They've Discontinued My Perfume by Anonymous

Character gets turned on by their own sneezing (whether just naturally, or because of a curse or something) and tries to ignore it. But then they catch a cold or have a strong allergic reaction to something, and it becomes harder and harder to ignore, so to speak.
Exhibit by vergoftowels

"Wow. How many times have you sneezed today?"
"I don't know, I lost count."
Untitled by vergoftowels

Person A is carrying something delicate (like a fresh painting, tray of china, hot bowl of soup) and there's nowhere for them to put it down when they feel a sudden sneeze coming.
Person B come over to steady them and ends up catching the oncoming sneezing fit for Person A while trying to protect whatever item it is.
Toward Satisfaction by tarotgal

Two characters have to share one small sleeping bag, so small that there's barely room to turn over. One character is coming down with a cold and can't help but sneeze over the other person all night long.
And OMG, They Were Rollmates by vergoftowels

Supernatural
Sam's got a cold, and colds and migraines really don't mix well.
Vigilance by tarotgal

Star Wars
Finn's been on suppressants all his life, because sexual urges are just a distraction for stormtroopers. Now that he's off them, he's discovering all kinds of new things, including that he really likes it when Poe sneezes.
Tell Me What You Want by tarotgal

Comments

And OMG, They Were Rollmates (Original, M/M, NSFW)

[vergoftowels]

This prompt kills the man.

Not like I think we're treating any of these stories as SFW, but they gon' have sex, so NSFW.

---

Ingvar poked a stick between the smoldering logs he'd stacked in the firepit, but stabbing the coals did nothing to make the fire any bigger or warmer. The wood was just too wet, even this deep into the forest. The thick canopy couldn't protect against the north's seasonal storms. It was just poor luck that he and Aravel had to travel this way at this time of year. It was going to be another cold night. He sneaked a look at his travelling companion, who was setting up their tent.

Aravel blended uncannily into the scenery here. Maybe it wasn't surprising, him being a wood elf. His skin was the fine, rich red-brown of cherry wood. His hair was a greeny bronze that mimicked the hanging moss of his home forest. Even his eyes were camouflage, golden and catlike. In the dark, they reflected the firelight like those of a mountain lion, and Ingvar had been spooked more than once. Combine all that with Aravel's leaf-like, layered robes, and it was hard to pick him out at twenty paces. Ingvar had been trained as a ranger since he could walk, and he was jealous of Aravel's natural, inborn ease among all things wooded.

"Almost ready?" Ingar asked after a another minute. Their tent was small, only big enough for two people and a dog. They'd unfortunately lost Ingvar's hunting hound in a landslide a few days ago, along with Aravel's pack, so it was going to be colder than he liked inside.

"We only have the one bedroll," Aravel said, stepping back from his work. He was still limping, but there wasn't much they could do about that.

Ingvar rubbed his own aching elbow. "Well, we'll just have to make do. Come over and let's eat." He produced some wolf jerky from his pouch and shared it out when Aravel came to sit beside him. "How are you feeling?" It wasn't just the landslide that prompted the question. For the last few hours, he'd noticed Aravel slowing down, stumbling occasionally, even sneezing once or twice. Really, it was just their luck.

The elf shrugged. "I'm falling ill," he replied wearily. "We should have made camp in Boarstead." He rubbed his slim hands together and held them over the sad excuse for a fire.

"We didn't know it was going to be so difficult to cross the pass," Ingvar pointed out. "And you didn't know you would take sick. Did you?"

"No," Aravel was quick to say. "No, I would have told you." Hiding such things on the road could lead to mistakes, sometimes fatal ones.

"Then it was all inevitable," said Ingvar. He started to rub Aravel's back. "We can share the bedroll. I don't want you to get any worse."

"I think hih- that's inevitable as well," Aravel mumbled, leaning into the touch. He tucked his face into his elbow. "Hpptsch! Hh- hh- hh- hh-- haptschiu!"

Ingvar chuckled. "Didn't think you'd get that one out, there."

"Be silent," said Aravel, primly, before sneezing again.

It wasn't quite dark yet when they turned in, but night fell extremely quickly in the forest and it was best to be tucked in and completely settled before losing the light. They washed up as best they could with a few handfuls of water, packed the remaining bag tightly and hung it from a tree, and tried to stoke the fire as much as possible. Ingvar pissed in a circle around their camp to keep away curious animals, a practice he was not able to get Aravel to join in. Then they entered the tent. The bedroll was narrow but also a necessity.

"You first," said Aravel. "You're bigger. I can fit in afterward."

So Ingvar climbed inside. He was tall but leanly muscled. He didn't think this whole endeavor would work if he was packing slabs like the warriors they often passed in town, huge beefy fellows who hired themselves out to defend homesteads or hunt bandits. They all seemed to have the same hairstyle, too, a tail at the neck. Seemed to Ingvar like a good place for an opponent to grab you and slit your throat. He wore his own black hair short when he was on the road. Once he was settled, he held open the fabric for Aravel.

"We'll go back to back," said the elf, and attempted such, but they soon found that the bedroll wasn't wide enough for their knees to point in opposite directions. Normally, Ingvar would have offered to spoon his smaller companion - had done so many times when travelling with various folk - but Aravel actually kept his own mossy hair quite long, and after about three minutes of blowing hair out of his mouth, Ingvar nixed that plan. Aravel had to get out again, then back in, carefully sliding in behind Ingvar, and that seemed to do the trick. It was so tight that Ingvar could feel Aravel's lips on the back of his neck, and the elf had had to tuck his arms around Ingvar's torso. At least the exertion of struggling in and out would keep them warm for now. Ingvar didn't think they would be moving again until daybreak.

"Comfortable?" he asked, pointlessly. Aravel's breath was warm on his skin.

"More or less," Aravel murmured back. "Good enough, anyway..." And then his breath fluttered uncertainly. "Ingvar..."

"Yes? Hey, you can't-" Aravel had started wriggling against him, trying to extract an arm that was wound under Ingvar's own. It made his elbow hurt again and he gritted his teeth. "What is it?? We don't really have a lot of room, here!"

"I know, I'm sorry, but I hh have to sneeze! Hah-" Aravel kept tugging, but he'd only managed to jostle them; his arm was still stuck down inside the bedroll when he was overcome. "Haptschiu!" His nose bumped against Ingvar's neck, which was suddenly moist from the spray. Ingvar shivered a little from the sensation, partially from discomfort.

"...Bless you."

Aravel's skin heated. "I'm so sorry," he said. "Honestly. I'll try not to sneeze." He extricated his arm carefully, finally, so he could rub his nose and dry Ingvar's neck with his sleeve. When he was done, though, there was nowhere for him to put it but back into the bedroll. It hurt Ingvar's back if Aravel tucked his arm anywhere but where it had been before, settled on his hip and chest.

It quickly became clear to them both that Aravel struggling to cover every time he felt a tickle was just impractical. It was tiring, painfully jostling, and most of the time not even fast enough to make a difference. Finally, Ingvar just folded his hand over Aravel's. "It's okay," he said. "It's okay. Try to get some sleep. I'll wash up in the morning and we'll forget about it." Aravel's hand was soft and trembling lightly. Ingvar gave it a squeeze.

"....If you say so." The elf was clearly reluctant, but he already sounded half asleep. "Sorry."

"Shh."

Ingvar settled, closing his eyes. He was tired after a long day of travel, and whether their arrangement was for better or worse, he was warm. It was quiet outside. The trees were full of the sounds of night, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He could rest. Or, well. He did want to. But even mostly asleep, Aravel was still unfortunately stricken with illness, and his breathing fluttered with every small itch. He made soft, irritated sounds. He hitched, sometimes for quite some time, before subsiding. Or before working himself up to sneeze again.

"Ah... hih... ih- hih-"

Ingvar rubbed his thumb over Aravel's knuckles.

"Hah-- Haptsch! Apttschih!" Aravel trembled and moaned softly. He pressed his nose to Ingvar's neck, seeking some sleeping aid for the torturous irritation. Maybe every few minutes, then maybe longer, Ingvar felt a gentle, wet burst against the back of his neck. It was an experience unlike any he'd had before in his life, and he had trouble categorizing it into "good" or "bad." Finally, it seemed as though exhaustion won out, and Aravel subsided into a deeper sleep, sniffling but blissfully still. Ingvar tried to match him, and soon enough he also fell asleep.

In the predawn, maybe close to 4 AM, Ingvar woke. Some sound had woken him, triggering his honed ranger instincts. A soft sound, quivering in the darkness. Aravel, he realized after a moment. He could feel the elf's chest rising against his back. Aravel was awake, he thought, and it was confirmed when he felt the elf curl his fingers tightly in the fabric of Ingvar's jerkin.

"No," Aravel whispered, self-directed obviously. He groaned lightly and Ingvar heard his breath catch sharply in the dark. "Huah-- Aa" He was clearly going to sneeze again - maybe this is what had woken him to begin with - and it sounded itchy and urgent. "Aa- AA- Apptschh! Happtschuh!" Aravel's body was tense behind his, and his nose and lips were crushed to Ingvar's skin when he sneezed. He felt the rush of air, light spray, and a sudden hot wetness against his neck. Aravel coughed lightly and sniffed hard, the sound thick. Aa. Well, he probably wasn't feeling much better then. Ingvar wondered if he should move, say something... but Aravel had started up again. "Hah- hhah- hahktschiu! Ohh... Aa- Haksh! Hh-Hngksch! Ahkttschxgh!"

There was another rush of mess, pooling at his neck. Ingvar supposed he should have been revolted or something, but his brain was currently fixated on a different feeling entirely. Aravel was pressed all along his back, tightly, and he could feel the hard line of the elf's cock against his backside. Now, this was an inevitability, and something he'd experienced with other companions as well, part of the drill. But he'd rarely traveled with anyone whose sleeping interest spurred him to offer reciprocation. Aravel was sick, but that didn't really hamper Ingvar's steady interest, which had been growing since they started travelling together three months ago. And he didn't enjoy the frustrated noises Aravel was making as he wrestled with his wet nose.

Ingvar squeezed Aravel's hand. "Hey," he said softly.

"I'm sorry," mumbled the elf. His fingers twitched in Ingvar's grasp.

"I know. It's okay. Let's come out of the bedroll for a minute."

Aravel agreed, and the two of them managed to wriggle out. It was somewhat more difficult with limbs heavy from sleep, but soon both were seated in the very small tent. The air outside of the bedroll was starkly cold, and without thinking about it, Ingvar wrapped his arms around Aravel and pulled the smaller man to straddle his lap.

"Wh-"

"How do you feel? Can I do this?" Ingvar put one arm around Aravel's lower back to keep him steady. He rested his other hand on the elf's hip. "You tell me to stop if you want to stop."

Aravel looked tired and somewhat uncertain in the dark. His upper lip and chin were shiny with mess before he abruptly buried his face in his elbow. "It's hahh fine. I... I'm fine with it." Maybe he would have been blushing, but he ducked further into his sleeve. "Huahh-- Hapkstcxh!!" His whole body rocked with it, and he was still hard. Ingvar could feel the press of Aravel's member against his own.

"Bless you," he said, and kissed the elf's hair. "Are you warm enough?"

"Hnngh... I'm not cold."

"Is it okay if I touch?"

"It's- hh hh hih- Hhokay. Aptschiu!!" Again, Aravel rocked.

Ingvar kissed him again and then moved his hand from Aravel's hip to between them. He slipped his hand under the elf's robes, finding velvety bare skin awaiting him. Aravel's cock fit in his palm and he closed his fingers around it gently, skin slipping on the beginning of wetness there. "Okay?"

Aravel nodded. His cat eyes had gone half-lidded and he was biting his lip. "I might sneeze on you," he said, breathless.

Ingvar laughed. "Tell me something I don't know." He rested his forehead against Aravel's. "You're paying for me to have a niiiice, long bath at the next inn we get to."

That earned a wry smile. "I'd love to... but my wallet went over the cliff with my bag, remember?"

Ingvar squeezed Aravel's cock, earning him a pleased moan. "That's right, isn't it. Then you can make it up to me in a different way." He nuzzled Aravel's hairline. "Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, kiss me." Aravel sighed into his mouth, thighs trembling as Ingvar started to stroke him up and down.

The elf tasted sweet and salty. Ingvar wondered for a moment if that's what his cock would taste like as well, but there would be time to find out later. Right now, he wanted to bring them both to pleasure before they got too cold to want it. Aravel curled against him as he worked, tucking his face into his sleeve still, catching and guarding against his frequent sniffles and sneezes. Ingvar ran a thumb over Aravel's tip and was rewarded with the sweetest moan. He teased again.

"M' going to bite you," gasped Aravel, taking Ingvar's shoulders in both hands. "Please, please."

"Easy, sweet one." Ingvar tightened his grip. "Ready?" He knew the elf was close, could feel it in the way he kept tensing his thighs against Ingvar's own.

"Yes," Aravel half-sighed, nails just this side of painful in Ingvar's back. "Now, please."

They kissed again, and Ingvar worked his hand over Aravel until the smaller man could do nothing but cling and gasp, shaking, as he came explosively over Ingvar's hand and lap. Ingvar followed soon after, although his release was trapped by his breeches. Not ideal, but he could hardly think of that with Aravel still pressed to him, chest heaving, warm and pliant. And sneezy still.

"Happtsch! Akptsch! hah- HAH- HUAH-KTSCGH!!"

Ingvar laughed and started to rub Aravel's back again, holding him close. "Bless you." Now the front of his neck was messy, too, but the aftershocks of his orgasm relaxed him and he found he didn't care at the moment. "How do you feel?"

Aravel sniffled thickly, not moving from where he was leaning against Ingvar. "Tired. Good, but... mnn."

"Let's go back to sleep. Hopefully your nose won't bother you too much now. Sounds like you must have got it out, whatever was bothering you."

"I don't think that's how it works with a cold," Aravel replied, voice already muzzy.

Ingvar settled him again against his back in the bedroll. "I'll wake you in the morning to strike camp," he said, taking Aravel's hand again in his. "Sleep well."

And at least the rest of the night went well. Aravel did sleep soundly until day broke and they had to move on. His sneezing failed to abate in the daytime, however, and when he began to stumble with fever, Ingvar picked him up to carry on his back, strapping their pack to his front. He'd not been expecting to have to deal with it again, but rather than distaste, Aravel's continued sneezing on his neck now made him feel something quite different. He hurried on through the forest to get them both out of the chill and into a nice, warm bed.

Re: And OMG, They Were Rollmates (Original, M/M, NSFW)

[tarotgal]

I think I need to read this, like, a dozen more times before I can leave proper feedback. Guh! So hot. And so many beautiful little moments. Loved the descriptions of them trying to fit themselves into the sleeping roll together in the ONLY possible configuration and then the sneeze causing them to need to move only they can't and YUM. And trying not to sneeze when he has a terrible cold is SO not going to work; nice try, though. Soooooooo many delicious sneezes.

And the explicit consent during the sex scene. OMG I am SUCH a sucker for explicit consent in stories. Like, characters, please feel free to pause at every available moment and talk about what you're doing and how much you both agree you like doing it and make sure the other is on board before going further because I am NEVER going to get tired of every aspect of that.

After all this delicious suffering, I hope they find and enjoy their nice, warm bed (singular) very much.

Re: And OMG, They Were Rollmates (Original, M/M, NSFW)

[vergoftowels]

Aaaaa,thank you again! The prompt was so hot I couldn't resist! After I started it was just writing everything I like, hohoho. An high five on consent!! I actually had a blast writing that scene, too! It's important, and the intimacy and trust really tug at my heartstrings!

Re: And OMG, They Were Rollmates (Original, M/M, NSFW)

[(Anonymous)]

OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! THIS IS DELICIOUS!!!

Re: And OMG, They Were Rollmates (Original, M/M, NSFW)

[vergoftowels]

You're so welcome!! Glad you enjoyed it!