shakysniffles

[shakysniffles]

R/oy x Jam/ie (Somno/philia Snz Fic)

Summary: Consensual somnophilia when Jamie has a cold. Includes snzing into the covers (inspired by this post and my original post about it is here). Roy has the kink.

Warnings: Mess. 2.2k.

-

Roy can’t fall asleep. He’s been trying for the past hour, but he’s just so fucking distracted. Lying in the darkness of their room, he can feel the heat of Jamie’s body beside him. He’s been listening to the cadence of his breathing, uneven with congestion.

Jamie’s so stuffed up that he’s forced to breathe through his mouth, drying his throat and causing him to wake in fits and starts with cute little snuffles and coughs, rubbing his face into the pillow, the sheets, whatever’s in reach.

Roy himself hasn’t escaped unscathed, not that he minds, of course. Quite the opposite, in fact. Jamie had fallen asleep on Roy’s chest, peppering him with enough wet, heavy sneezes to cause all Roy’s blood to flow straight to his cock. He had tried his best to remain still and not wake his boyfriend, reaching down with his free hand and giving himself a couple cursory strokes to take the edge off in the hopes that he’d settle back down after that.

After several minutes, Jamie had stirred with a syrupy sniffle and rolled off Roy to his side of the bed, facing away from him. Roy’s grateful for the relief, and the ability to move his limbs freely without the weight of Jamie’s muscle mass smothering him.

So here Roy lies, deciding whether or not to wrap a hand around his cock and finish what Jamie unknowingly started. His skin feels itchy with need. It’s been a special kind of exquisite torture, looking after Jamie when he’s this sick. He’s fucking irresistible enough on a normal day, but this… this is more than Roy can take. His nerves are a constant live wire, jumping to attention every time Jamie sneezes or lets out a particularly miserable groan. The heady tension of desire and restraint constantly thrumming through Roy’s veins. Flushes spilling down his neck in a way that has Jamie smirking into his tissues. It’s like something out of a wet dream.

Jamie knows, of course. They’d talked about it months ago. He had assured Roy that it was fine. They’re both into plenty of freaky stuff, and Jamie has a very open mind. He’d gone so far as to say it was charming, the cheeky prick.

He knows Jamie would do just about anything he asks him to, so Roy takes it upon himself to be the one to set boundaries. He insists they have a safeword, in this and any other kinky shit they get up to. He doesn’t want to take advantage of Jamie when he’s sick. Doesn’t want to press him, but he has to trust that Jamie would tell him if it ever got to be too much.

They’d even talked about –

Roy squeezes his eyes shut. Is he really that desperate?

Jamie said it was okay. That he was flattered, always happy for any and all of Roy’s attention and love.

Their conversation from earlier that day flashes through Roy’s mind, as if to prove to himself that it actually happened.

-

“You dknow how we talked about… mbe being asleeb?” Jamie asks as he finishes blowing his chapped nose for the millionth time.

Roy grunts in affirmation, laser-focused on his boyfriend.

“You could sdtill do that, whend I’b like this.”

Something coils in Roy’s gut, sinister and so, so tempting. They joke about him being a sadist, but this feels like a lot, even for him. But oh god, he wants it.

He knows as soon as Jamie says it that he’s going to do it. How could he not? Now that Jamie’s offering it to him on a silver platter.

“Are you sure?” he forces out, his throat tight with lust.

“Of course. I trust you.” Jamie says. He presses the crumpled tissue to his pink, dripping nostrils. “And one of us mbight as well enjoy ihh… hih’AEETTSHH’uh! SNF. Endjoy id.”

“Okay,” Roy says, the idea taking shape in his mind. “You do need your rest.”

“Exactly, mbate. We can both get what we want.” His tired, red-rimmed eyes soften. “Love that you’re still into mbe evedn when I’b disgustin’.” He gives a playful leer that quickly dissolves into a wrenching sneeze. “uh…ha…HA’IGGHHSH’IUE!”

And Roy can’t go another second without touching him after that.

-

Roy’s cock twitches at the memory, dragging his attention back to the present.

His hard-on is insistent now; it hasn’t flagged at all. Probably because Jamie’s lying next to him making all sorts of sounds and Roy can’t focus on anything but that. Every noise he makes only serves as a reminder to Roy of just how full of cold Jamie is. He’d taken a considerable amount of Nyquil before bed to combat it, or at the very least to knock him out, and it seems to have only accomplished the latter.

Unable to take anymore, he decides to give in, reminding himself that he doesn’t have to feel guilty. Jamie asked for this.

He curls against Jamie, blanketing his back with the warm line of his body. He brings his hands to Jamie’s hips, buries his face in the nape of his neck, smelling the familiar warmth of Jamie’s skin. Jamie snuffles a bit – and Roy freezes – but he stays asleep.

His cock fits perfectly between Jamie’s pert ass cheeks, and Roy digs his fingers into the skin of Jamie’s hips as hard as he dares to pull him closer. Panting his hot breath against the back of Jamie’s neck, already so worked up. It’s like he’s popped the cork of a shaken bottle of champagne and all his desire is spilling out of him. Their bodies are sleep-warm beneath the sheets, and Roy feels like he’s going to combust. He starts a slow, easy grind against Jamie’s ass, forever grateful that the man sleeps with no pants on.

Jamie breath hitches and he groans out a little sound – Nng – nuzzling his face against his pillow. Roy doesn’t stop.

His runny nose has already leaked onto the pillowcase. Roy’s had to switch them out every day, throwing the snotty things in the wash. If Roy lifts his head a little, he can watch Jamie’s face contort, nostrils flaring as a sneeze builds in his sleep. Jamie’s chest expands as his breath picks up – “huh… huh-ggsh’TCHH’iue!” The sneeze sends mess bubbling from his nose, spraying down onto the sheets and his chest.

He still doesn’t blink awake. The Nyquil must have really knocked him out. The thought goes straight to Roy’s dick, heady with the knowledge that he could do whatever he wanted and Jamie might not even wake up; a sick power trip that’s been gifted to him.

“Fuck,” he grits between his teeth, pressing his forehead to Jamie’s shoulder as his thrusts turn more desperate.

Jamie snuffles again, his sinuses thick as molasses. His open mouth sucks in a sharp breath before – “ha’kxxgsh’uh!” another viscous, sickly sneeze coats his upper lip and the pillow below him. He moans, and Roy, through the haze in his own brain, tries to decipher if it’s in discomfort or if it has to do with the fact that Jamie’s dick is thickening up now – his body reacting to Roy even like this – dead to the world, sick as a dog, and hopped up on drugs. If there’s one constant in this life, it’s that Jamie’s going to get hard for him.

Christ, you’re gonna be the death of me, he thinks.

Needing more, he lifts Jamie’s leg as gently as he can – he’s so fucking pliant like this - and thrusts his dick between his fucking tree trunk thighs; one of the many benefits of dating a professional footballer. It provides him with just the right amount of the friction he’s so desperately seeking, the corded muscles like a vice on his dick.

The tight heat of Jamie’s thighs sends Roy careening closer to the edge, a growing, molten pressure in his gut. He’s still not awake yet, Roy marvels, breaking a sweat.

As though summoned by his thoughts, Jamie’s breath starts to hitch again - little frustrated gasps in and out. Roy doesn’t halt the movement of his hips. He buries his face in the back of Jamie’s neck and keeps pumping into that warm, inviting place between his thighs.

“ah…hah… ha’NGGSSHH’UH!” The sneeze rocks them both as it tears out of Jamie, spraying the sheets and clinging to the bottom of his face in a sheer glossy mess. Roy’s hips stutter with another sharp spike of lust.

Jamie groans, low and confused, and Roy feels it reverberate through him where he’s fused to Jamie’s back.

“Mm…Roy?” he mumbles, cracking his bleary eyes open. Roy slows his pace but doesn’t stop the rhythmic slide of his hips.

“I’m right here,” he says, his quiet voice strained with his quick breath. “Go back to sleep. I’ve got you.”

“Ngh… Cadn’t… heh… hih’nngg’SHOO! Ugh. Cadn’t breathe.”

Roy’s halfway to outer space right now, with the brain function to match, so he does the only thing he can think of and gathers the section of the comforter that’s in front of Jamie and presses it to his slick face. These sheets are fucked anyway, he reasons.

“Blow for me,” his voice rolls deep in Jamie’s ear. Jamie doesn’t even hesitate, still half-asleep and fuzzy from the Nyquil. He simply does as Roy says, mustering all the energy he has in his sleepy state to force out a gurgling blow, soaking the comforter with a heavy amount of snot.

“Good boy, get it all out.” He starts to pull the fabric away from Jamie’s face, strings of mess still tethered, when the sound of Jamie’s breath scissoring in and out goes straight to his dick. Fuck, he isn’t going to last much longer.

He props himself up on one elbow to have a better view of Jamie’s face as it contorts in a delicious pre-sneeze expression, still covered in mess and about to get worse. He doesn’t even have his eyes open, but his eyebrows pull up desperately as his red, wet nostrils twitch.

After one last sharp inhale of breath, a heaving double bursts from him - “huh… hih’AEESSHH’IUE! Hah…ha-Heh’GKSSHHTT!” – unleashed openly into the inches of space between him and the already-slimy comforter, coating it even further, spots of liquid turning the fabric dark where it lands.

“Fuck - Jamie.” Roy’s voice punches out of him, raw with need. Lightning jolts through him, his hips fucking into the tight clench of him, an exquisite pressure building. He sets his teeth against Jamie’s shoulder in a bite, as gentle as he can stand. Jamie groans and tries to snort up the congestion that’s shifted in his sinuses once again.

It takes all Roy’s concentration to arrange the comforter in his hand to find a clean spot and bring it to Jamie’s face for more.

“Come on. Again,” he grunts out, head swimming with his imminent orgasm. Jamie obeys. Of course he does. The squelching, miserable sound of it shivers down Roy’s spine. The viscous mess fills the section of fabric, drenching it through until Roy can feel it warm against his skin.

Fuck. Jamie’s breath starts to hitch again, and Roy thinks he must have done something very good in a previous life to deserve this. I’m so close, he thinks, his hips rutting in time with Jamie’s staccato breaths.

Jamie’s head rears back, pulling away from the sodden blanket before splattering it with another exhausted, desperate fit – “ah…hah’iiggh’SHIUE! Hih…hih-kngxxt’GSSHT!” The Nyquil and fatigue are banding together to turn his sneezes haphazard and unrestrained. His face is slack with it; mouth open as he heaves in another breath. “Ugh… ihh… hih’GgSHHuh! Hah… Hiiiih-ZZSSHHESSHH!” He finishes with a monster of a sneeze, sullying everything with a wrenching, wet deluge of filth.

Reaching a fever pitch, Roy’s thrusts stutter before pumping once, twice – then there’s a rush in his ears as he comes so hard he sees stars. Thick, white ropes of come coat Jamie’s thighs as Roy chases his pleasure, fucking him through it.

When Roy comes back to earth, he pulls out from Jamie’s thighs, hissing at the sensation. Nuzzling into Jamie’s neck, he peppers soft kisses against the warm skin there, luxuriating in the smell of him. Jamie sniffles and rouses a bit at that, and Roy tightens his hold around his middle.

One last time, Roy finds a dry part of the blanket - no easy task at this point - and wipes Jamie’s face clean as best he can.

“Roy?” Jamie blinks, half-awake as Roy pulls the blankets up around them. The sheets are truly disgusting, but only in certain spots. They’re both sure to wake up sticky tomorrow, but Roy’s too satiated and fucked out to deal with it right now. And he doesn’t want to disrupt Jamie’s rest any further. They’ll just have to enjoy a nice hot shower together in the morning, and Roy can throw the sheets in the wash then.

“Shh. You did so good, love.”

Jamie gives a sweet little moan and reaches for Roy’s hands around him, holding him there. He snuggles back into his pillow.

“Go back to sleep now. You need your rest.”

Roy’s hand drifts down to Jamie’s cock, checking the state of him, and finds him still half hard. Jamie cants his hips against Roy’s hand on instinct, but doesn’t give him much more than that.

Roy chuckles into his hair. He really does need his rest and Roy doesn’t want to risk waking him up further. It’s nothing that can’t wait.

“Sleep. I’ll take care of you tomorrow.”

Jamie’s contented sigh is the last thing he hears before sleep pulls him under.

#🫠

[shakysniffles]

a person whos come down with a cold and they just cant anticipate their sneezes... like the sneezes force their way out of them no matter how close they are to their partner or how few tissues they have on hand. sometimes they come out halfway "hishhh!" and they quickly mutter "oh no" or "im sorry" before the full "h'ieXSHHH!" follows it

[shakysniffles]

just a quick little compilation of some sneezes in my car today. thought I would film it from an angle where you can see the spray and get a little teaser of how wet these sneezes were 💕

[shakysniffles]

ok snzblr hear me out:

plant girl who emits pollen when she’s horny, and she has the kink!

maybe it’s sex pollen, maybe she can even change what kind it is. like if you’re allergic to one type of flower specifically, she’ll mimic that flower’s pollen just for you.

that’s all I’ve got for now but just think about it!

[shakysniffles]

ghosts + sneezing (i have a very specific hankering)

they had a cold when they died and now they're sneezy for all eternity (and they just want relief from the constant itch, can you help them?)

ectoplasm, there's something there, I know it, it's contagious and about to cause chaos

ghost that retains its allergies and you know when you need to clean the place because you start hearing random sneezes floating out of empty rooms

multiple ghosts and the cacophony of their sneezing in chorus as they surround you

NONCON WARNING FOR BELOW

snzfcker ghost invisibly trying to induce people and get them off at the same time without them knowing (in front of people even)

ghost that conditions you to expect sex whenever you sneeze; by slowly increasing sexual contact every time you sneeze, so that eventually a single sneeze leaves you hot and begging for it, and if you want to get off, you just induce sneezes and lie back while they start to fuck you

#my brain can't decide if it wants to go malevolent or benevolent ghosts #idek what this is #enjoy the fragmented imagery i guess... #i just want to be held against my will in a haunted house and forced to sneeze in exchange for ghost sex is that too much to ask

[shakysniffles]

The Experiment

Okay everybody, I have written... the most disgusting, depraved piece of snz fic I can think of, and I have decided to share it. Please be warned that this is very NSFW, very messy, very contagion, very humiliation-centric, and very medical kink. But I know a lot of you weirdos like that, so. Read on. There MAY be a part 2, depending on demand.

~~~

“Alright, Mr. Teich,” said the scientist. “Let’s go over the details of the experiment one final time. We’re conducting a formal study on the phenomenon of sexual attraction to colds, sneezing, and illness. You have agreed to be our test subject today, and to accept the risk of being infected with a real rhinovirus. Do you understand?” 

Alex swallowed hard and nodded. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He felt a knot of anxiety in his stomach, and, if he admitted to himself, a similar knot of arousal. “Yes,” he said finally, in case she needed verbal consent. This whole process was so strange. 

“Perfect. We’re going to hook you up to a variety of monitoring machines that will test your arousal in response to visual, aural, and physical stimuli.” 

Alex’s heart thumped in response to the word physical. Was someone sick going to sneeze on him? He hoped not. Or did he? The scientist asked him to remove his clothes so she could equip him with a heartrate monitor, sweat monitor, and, most humiliatingly of all, a loop around his penis that measured his erection. Afterwards he was allowed to put his clothes back on, but he was horribly aware that every one of his reactions was being monitored. 

“Wonderful,” said the scientist. She sounded bored. “Now you’ll be exposed to a variety of common-cold related stimuli as associated with your preferred gender of sexual interest.” She consulted her clipboard. “Male.” 

Alex swallowed again, horribly embarrassed. It was such a strange and clinical way to be called gay. “At first we’ll test a video of someone with a cold, and then we’ll move to in-person stimuli. The subject has been infected with a rhinovirus in our facility and is reaching the peak of the symptomatic phase. They are also being monitored for their own sexual response to being witnessed in a compromised and infectious state. Alright, do you understand?” 

“Yes,” Alex said, and his voice was horribly dry. He couldn’t believe this was happening. 

“Alright. I will stay here to monitor the equipment, but feel free to act as if I am not here. We’ll dim the lights and play the video now.” The lights went low, but Alex was very aware of the pretty, disinterested, and very professional woman scientist in her lab coat beside him. He was also aware that this was probably his last day not being sick with a cold for a while. Just that thought sent a little thrill through him. 

The video was played on a large screen before him, and it showed a reasonably attractive man about Alex’s same age—late twenties. He was white and a bit more filled out and muscular than Alex himself. His face was pale and his eyes glassy, and his large, roman nose was pink and swollen from abuse. His lips were parted a bit as if he was too congested to breathe through his nose. There was a slight gleam of moisture from one of his nostrils. 

Before the man on the screen moved or made any noise, Alex heard the click of the scientist turning on her voice transcription recorder. “Subject is showing early signs of arousal at the simple sight of the infected object,” she said into it. “Heartrate slightly elevated.” 

Her words made Alex blush horribly. God, he wasn’t going to be able to hide anything. 

“Umb, hi,” the man on the screen said. “I’mb baking this video as part of this experibent, srnnnnnfff.” He stopped to give a long, wet, gurgling sniffle. His voice was hoarse and congested, with no hard consonants to speak of. He sounded horribly sick. “So I guess I’mb just supposed to talk about by cold?” He gave a shallow cough. “Umb, I’ve had this cold for about three days. I was idfected with a—ahhemb—a, umb, syridge? The first day I didd’t feel buch, but the secod day I started to feel pretty buch—guh—ehh—huh—pretty shitty.”

His nose was twitching a lot now, and his breath started to catch. 

Alex heard the scientist who must have been supervising him say in a low, comforting voice, “You can sneeze any time you need to, Casey.”

The man—Casey—waved off his handler. “I’mb fide. So yeah, the secodd day I started feelidg bad. Codgested, sdiffly, and dow—oh shit—eh-SHHUGH.” He brought up a crumpled wad of tissues to muffle a gigantic wet sneeze at the very last second. Then he groaned into the tissues. “Sorry.” 

“It’s perfectly fine,” said the scientist off screen. 

Alex’s own scientist handler said into her mic, “The subject is showing advancing signs of sexual arousal. Heartrate is rising. Sweat beginning. Physical discomfort in seat. Slight swelling of the genital area.” 

Alex blushed hard, feeling like his face was on fire. He hated knowing that this woman could tell everything about his shameful attraction to this man’s disgusting, beautiful cold. But he also… didn’t hate it? It was confusing. 

On the screen, Casey rubbed his tired, puffy eyes. “No, I’b fide,” he said to his handler, but then coughed into his fist. “I just dod’t kdnow—what else do you wadt me to talk about?” 

“You can talk about your cold,” the scientist said. “But you can also talk about something else and we’ll simply record how the cold shows up for you.” 

“Umb, okay. Cad I have a tissue first, though?” 

“Of course, Mr. Smith.”

“Add it’s okay to blow my dose on here?”

“You should treat your nose however you need to. The goal is to test your responses.” 

A disembodied hand gave Casey a box of tissues, which he grabbed with enthusiasm. Alex noticed that he grabbed two at once, as if one tissue wouldn’t be enough for his nose. And clearly it wasn’t; when he brought the tissues to his sore, red nose, he let loose such a torrent of a nose blow—wet and sodden and gurgling with infected snot—that the tissues were instantly soaked. 

Alex’s scientist said, “Subject has a pronounced reaction to object blowing his nose. Erection now swollen by one inch in diameter.”

“Shit,” Alex whispered, humiliated. He had liked hearing and seeing the poor man blow his nose. He didn’t need it rubbed in his face. 

“Sorry,” Casey said on the screen, gulping air through his mouth, “I thidk I’b godda sdeeze agaid---ehh—ih—hg-SSCHNTZ!” he stifled the sneeze fiercely, directing the spray into the clump of used tissues, but Alec could still hear how wet it was. 

“Subject has reached 120 heartbeats per minute,” said the scientist. “Alex, are you ready for the in-person encounter?” 

Alex shifted in his seat. He was keenly aware that his cock was about to start pressing visibly against his jeans, and he was also aware that he was about to be infected with what looked like a truly terrible cold. He swallowed. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

The scientist spoke into an intercom. “You can bring the symptomatic subject into the room now.” 

Alex heard the sound of a distant door opening and closing, and the screen that showed Casey and his scientist was shut off. A minute later, they appeared in real life: the scientist nondescript in his white coat and mask, and Casey miserable and incandescent with cold. It was clear right away that he was much sicker than he had seemed on the video. All the details were sharper. His lips were chapped, but far worse than that, his nose was swollen and red and chapped, the delicate skin between his nostrils starting to peel. He clutched a handful of soggy tissues in one hand, and his lips were parted to let him breathe. He clearly couldn’t get any air through his stuffed-up nose at all. 

“Hi,” he said to Alex, his voice deep and hoarse. “I’b Casey. I guess you probably dod’t wadt to shake hadds, huh?” 

He tried to laugh in a self-deprecating way, but it caught in his throat, making him cough. Lightly at first, but then hard, with a wet crackle of congestion in his chest. He tried fervently to cover his mouth with the tissues, but it was clearly he was in a deeply unsanitary way. Alex’s face was probably bright red. 

“The subject’s erection has swollen another half inch,” said his scientist in a business-like tone. “This reaction is uncommon for the coughing symptom.” 

Fuck. Alex blushed even brighter. He forced himself to speak. “Hi,” he said, his voice creaking for a different reason. “I’m Alex. You must be—um, you must be feeling really crappy.” 

Casey huffed, making him cough a little again. “I guess you could say thad,” he managed. “I’b so stuffed up I cad barely sdeeze, but I still feel like it all the---heh—oh shit—all the--heh—HEH-GNSSST!” He doubled in half with the force of his sneeze, which was stifled not so much because he held it back but because it was so choked with mucus. The mess poured from his nose in infected, opaque strands, overflowing the tissues and smearing over his hand. 

“B-bless you,” Alex stammered. He looked down and saw that his cock was now visibly pressing up against the fly of his jeans. Shit. 

“Thadks, sdnrrrrrrrffff,” Casey sniffled. He helplessly wiped his face and hands with the soaked tissues, which had the effect of smearing the mess around rather than cleaning him up. “Umb, cad I get some bore tissues?” 

His scientist looked around. “Oh no—Casey, I’m terribly sorry, but I seem to have left the tissues in the video room. That wasn’t my intention.” 

Casey sniffled again—a deep, crackling-wet breath that spoke of furiously clogged sinuses. There was a slick trail across his philtrum and lips. Alex’s heartbeat was throbbing between his legs. “Umb, okay,” he said, clearly a bit at a loss. “Could we get sobe bore?” 

The scientist looked genuinely contrite. “I’m afraid that Dr. Patterson and I have to be present for the duration of the experiment, so we can’t leave. You’ll have to hold on till then.” 

Casey reached up and rubbed his nose hard back and forth against the back of his hand, eliciting a loud clicking, squelching nose from all the wetness within. He was breathing audibly through parted lips. “Ogay,” he said, voice more wrecked than ever. “But I’b defiditely goidg to be baking a bess, thed.” He coughed. It was clear that longer sentences make him out of breath. “How lodg does the experibedt go od?” 

Dr. Patterson looked up from her clipboard in a cursory way. “10 more minutes,” she said. “Or until you or Mr. Teich ask to stop. Are you requesting a halt to the experiment?” 

Casey, for some reason, looked at Alex, as if wanting his opinion. Alex didn’t know how to tell him that he wanted more than anything to stay in this room with Casey and his horrible, messy, contagious cold for as long as possible. He shrugged, and then shook his head. 

Casey smiled at him, which made Alex’s stomach twist a little with pleasure. “I guess we’re stickidg it out, thed,” Casey said, coughing again, “so I hope you’re ready for this to get bessy, cough-cough-cough.”

“We understand,” Alex said, his own voice thin. “You’re sick, you can’t help it.”

Casey’s face was already contracting in a dazed, sneezy expression, his eyes fluttering shut. “Do, I ree-heh—ally-- Hd'gsssshiih! Guh, my god, I really cad’t.” The sneeze had sent a torrent of snot down his face again and tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.

Alex was about to say something, to drown out the sound of the scientist saying, “The uninfected subject is now fully erect, sweat pronounced,” but Casey raised his hand as if to halt then both, as if to say, I’m not done. “Oh my-- Hdjissssssshuh!” He burst out. There was snot dripping off his chin, his fingers. He looked wrecked. The sneeze sent him spontaneously into a fit of chesty, crackling coughing. Alex looked down and to his horror, saw a wet spot of precome on his pants. He could almost see himself throbbing. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to come in his underwear in front of Casey and the scientists. “The symptomatic subject’s sneezing fit has produced a very pronounced arousal response in the uninfected subject,” said the scientist, marking it on her clipboard. 

For the first time, Casey looked down and caught sight of Alex’s state: strapped into devices that measured his every reaction; his face scorching red with humiliation; the huge tent in his pants and leak of precise that demonstrated his arousal. 

At being looked at, Alex’s face blushed even harder, and his cock twitched. He looked back at Casey’s snotty, mouth-breathing gaze. 

“Dabmn,” Casey said in his gravely congested voice, “This really does do it for you, doesd’t it? Guh.” He lifted his elbow and coughed into it, the sound getting deeper and wetter. He had to sniffle before he spoke again. “I bead, i’b dot judgidg, believe be. I get the experibedt. I just—eh—gihh—”  His chest was rising and falling like crazy as his breath hitched. His huge, red, gleaming nose was twitching. “I just—AshHiisgggshhhhh!” He erupted into his cupped hands, the strands of mess thick and dangling from his poor nose. “‘Scuse be. I just—cough cough—cad’t relate. Doesd’t get be goidg.” 

Alex swallowed convulsively, his face ever hotter with shame. “Yeah,” he said, and his voice squeaked. “Sorry. I’m not trying to—”

The scientist said quietly, as if to herself, “The patient’s blood pressure continues to climb, erection reaching pain threshold.” 

Casey waved his hand to signify don’t worry, then moved it up to swipe at his still wet nose with the back of his wrist. “Do, stop,” he said. “I, uh, cough cough, I like that you like it. Sorry—” His eyes had started to flutter as he gasped for breath again. His nose twitched and ran in a stream down to his mouth, his breath loud and clouded with congestion, and the sneeze seemed to be there, but he abruptly sighed. “Lost it,” he muttered, breaking into a stuttering cough. “Dabmn, though, are you sure you wadt to do this? This cold is—snrfff—absolutely brutal, bmadn.”  

Alex swallowed again. “To be honest, I don’t mind at all. But I am sorry if you’re uncomfortable. With the cold, or with—” mortified, he gestured to his groin. 

Casey smiled, a little leer in it despite how bloodshot and rheumy his eyes were. “I dod’t kdow if this is allowed, but do you wadt be to do sobethidg about that? I could—I could—oh god it’s—ehhh—back—ehSHUGHHHH!” He sneezed openly, nothing to cover it, as infected, contagious snot flew everywhere, all over Casey, all over Alex, and all over the scientist in his hazmat suit. As it happened, Alex felt a building, giddy heat in his balls, a pressure that overwhelmed him, and all at once, before he knew what was happening, he came in his pants. The stain of it was unmistakable on his jeans. 

“Oh my god,” he groaned, hiding his humiliated face with his hands. 

“Wow,” said Casey. He was staring at Alex, not doing a thing to clean up his disgusting face. 

“Now, I think,” said the scientist, “you may have some tissues.” 

#🫠 #wow that was intense

[shakysniffles]

insane thinking about someone cursed to sneeze whenever they lie, inducing hands-free for their sneezefucker partner by whispering/hitching/moaning out:

"I-I'hhhhhhhm not...g-gonna sneeze--hiHHShuhh!"

"No, I--sdf! I-I'b n'dot allergic t--...t-to your...perfu--h-hihh--!"

"I don't h-...have to...havetosnee--ihHTTchhew!"

"That doesn't t--hih!--tickle m'be...haAH--!"

[shakysniffles]

I know this is not the first time, but I'm once again considering someone substantially vain, who however has also a substantially big ( = sexy) nose they are terribly self conscious of. Always trying to angle their face in pictures in a way that minimises the said nose, perhaps using make-up and accessories in hopes of drawing attention away from the said nose etc.

Except then it's suddenly hayfever season, and their hayfever is terrible, and it goes all into their big, sexy nose. Not just sneezing and sniffling constantly and speaking with a sexy, stuffy voice, but their nose gets so entirely red from all the blowing, and there are always red "leak marks" under their nostrils. Whatever they do, their red, sneezy, streaming nose that simply won't tolerate pollen becomes an obvious attention-grabber on their face.

Thus every year for the duration of the high pollen season they begrudginly resign to the fate of being a person whose big, red, fussy, hayfever-ridden nose is the first thing anyone notices about them.

[shakysniffles]

akfdsfalkjh;j i saw a snz kink post reblogged by a fandom friend and i know they're into whump and the post was like tame as all heck for snz, jst describing characters having a bad cold so it COULD just be general whump but now i'm like 👀

#like if i write something juuuust on that border..... #but i know the original post was intended for kink bc i KNOW #you know? #anyway dropping in bc my brain is fritzing about it that's all

[shakysniffles]

when the first syllable of the sneeze is so desperate it sounds like it's ripping its way out of them >>>

[shakysniffles]

wet chhinkni sneezes🫡

these were fun to film hehe

#🔂

[shakysniffles]

I love a sneeze that blows out a visible cloud of droplets. It’s even better when you can hear the spray crashing onto surfaces 😋

#💦

[shakysniffles]

i'm sorry but to me there is literally nothing hotter than feather inducing

just the idea of that light, fluttery, barely there tickle setting off a sneeze is *chef's kiss* so good

#🪶

[shakysniffles]

A Long Ride (pt. 2)

So yeah this took longer than I expected to get out. Been going through a lot irl, but it should be calming down soon, so hopefully I’ll have more time/inspiration to write. Anyway, here’s more cowgirls. Cus I’m a sucker for that cowboy aesthetic.

—

Desperate as she was to get some alone time to set herself straight, Fisher couldn’t just leave Adelaide to her own devices. Sailor was safely stabled, they had enough cash for a single-bed room, and one hot bath. Fisher insisted Adelaide get the hot bath; the poor girl was still shivering uncontrollably, she needed to get warm more than Fisher needed to get clean.

Besides, while her employer bathed, Fisher could take the opportunity to calm herself down. Because, damn, this whole situation had her all worked up. She’d had a hard enough time repressing those soft feelings for Ms. Adelaide Deveraux before the fine lady had fallen ill and spent the better part of a few days clinging to Fisher’s back, shivering convulsively and sneezing in her ear.

Keep reading

#oh i am delighted to learn there's more <333 #♀️ #🏳️‍🌈 #🛏️

[shakysniffles]

a long ride

Inspired by that one post. I have a thing for the cowboy aesthetic. But for some reason, this one struck me as a cowgirl one. Cowgirls are just as good.

Also, this is my first piece of writing I’ve posted here. Hopefully I’ll post more. I am planning on writing a part two.

cold sneezes, pretty messy, fair warning.

===

It’d finally stopped raining, if nothing else. And Fisher really did mean absolutely nothing else.

Despite the shift in weather, they were still soaked. And there wasn’t a high chance of getting dry anytime soon; though it wasn’t actively raining anymore, a heavy fog still hung in the air, just shy of obscuring her vision. Fisher herself didn’t mind the dampness of everything from the air to her clothes so much; it was her passenger she was worried about being chilled.

Keep reading

#🛏️ #🥵 #♀️ #🏳️‍🌈

[shakysniffles]

Thinking about person A nuzzling into person B’s breasts and teasing them until B’s nipples get hard. A decides it’s the perfect opportunity to tease B so what do they do? They gently drag their nose over one of B’s nipples.

Fuck, B can feel A’s nostrils flare against their nipple, their hitchy breaths hitting their breast as person B squirms in anticipation. At this point, B’s hand lightly rests on the back of their partner’s head while holding them in place because god, they don’t want them to stop. A moves their head around slowly, basically inducing themself with B’s hard nipple by delicately tracing it over their septum and around their sensitive, already wet nostrils until the give in and spray a set of desperate sneezes right between person B’s breasts.

#🫠

[shakysniffles]

a visibly very sick person gets into a cab in a city. they're breathing through their mouth, their nose bright red, with a scarf around their throat and a coat on and a full box of tissues under one arm. they enter the backseat of the cab and immdietely start sneezing into a wad of tissues from their pocket; the cab driver waits until theyre done, and they sniffle thickly.

"Ubb," they rasp. "third add ubb snurrfff thirdy sig--a'ETCHOO!" They sneeze uncovered, leaving a large splatter on the plastic divider, and sniffle, then let out a heavy, uncovered chesty cough.

the cab driver can barely make out what they're saying between the laryngitis and the stuffiness, and instead makes a vauge guess: "The doctor's office on thirty-sixth?"

the person nodds, but their eyelids are fluttering again. "eehh...etUSCHOOOO! Ughh..." another splatter on the plastic divider. another thick, congested sniffle. "sorry," they rasp, "I, ubb. Ib really sigg. Snurxxt. Guuhh..." they pull out more tissues and let out a long, gurgling blow, then lean their head on the window, where it stays for the entire ride as they snuffle and sneeze and cough.

when they get to the office, the sickie snuffles miserably and attempts to pay in cash with crumpled bills from their coat pocket, which is also filled with used tissues.

"don't worry about it," the driver says as they get out and thank him, although not without another couple sneezes in the cab.

#🤧 #💦 #🛏️