#Not sneezing in fits

[sneezarify]

I have not stopped sneezing all day!

[mlarayoukai]

[snzluv3r]

oh my god, having to be off my allergy meds before allergy testing has made my sneezing fits and allergy attacks SO much more desperate. it feels like all i can do is complain about how itchy i am through hitching and uncontrollable sneezes

[apolaskiart]

Get yourself friends who will support your ironic relationship through the medium of marketable plushies

[snzyflowrr]

sneezy girl with huge boobs, straddling her partner. Her partner looking up at her as she sneezes, getting a perfect view of her boobs bouncing with each itchy sneeze. Spraying snot down on her chest.

[aller-geez]

Since I’ve had so many people send me asks/dming about more Meeko, I have brought food for you~

I know not many people have been reading it, but also stay tuned later tonight for part 4 of Snow Daze~

[newsfmember]

Touchy people who may refuse to not be touchy even while sneezing. They may even sneeze while holding your hand without letting go. They MIGHT even just turn their head in the opposite direction to let out a fully uncovered sneeze only to spin right back toward you, all while keeping one arm around your neck … (yes, someone used to do this to me 🫠)

[mochindayo]

🧧新年快乐🧧！

!!!Qiuniu and Guilin!!!

MY DAY ISNT OVER SO ITS STILL LNY AND NOW IM POSTING IT YAY - today was just coloring it, drawing was done over the weekend for the most part :’)

Other art obligations required attention first~ and also y’know, my 8-4/9-5 😔 (just writing my silly little code that I don’t actually know how to write on my own or test on my own yet because I don’t know how all of our microservices work …yet… I swear I’m learning, it just takes me awhile to process and learn)

​oH also the last panel!!!! Guilin is short compared to Qiuniu. He has to stand on a chair to be tall enough to reach like that hahahaha. Qiuniu is 7ft. Guilin is 5’6ft.

But anyways, Happy Lunar New Years Everyone~

새해 복 많이 받으십시오~

新年快乐～

[suddencolds]

of painkillers and lenience

...hello! 😭 I wrote this way back in April; it's been sitting in my drafts ever since. Chronologically, it takes place shortly following Atypical Occurrence.

I wasn't sure if I was ever going to post this. I suppose it's more a character study than a proper romantic installment :') but it's an exchange I'd been wanting to write for a long time.

you can find everything I've written in this universe here!

—

Summary: Yves comes down with something. His best friend wonders where Vincent is, in all of this.

—

Perhaps it’s merciful that it’s on a Sunday that Yves wakes up with the slightest tickle in his throat.

Yves has an idea what it means. He’s had the flu enough times in his life to know that it comes on quickly. Maybe if he attempts to sleep it off, he’ll have a better time over the next few days.

Or maybe not. He cancels his Sunday plans, goes through his itinerary. There’s a slew of emails he’ll have to send off, a handful of meetings he’ll probably have to reschedule for this coming work week. He’ll need groceries, too, to last him the week—ideally something that won’t take too much effort to make. Resting now seems like it’d be a waste of time. Best to get everything over with before the illness has a chance to properly settle, he thinks. 

He really does mean to stop by the grocery store. It’s perhaps just the timing that doesn’t work out as planned. Between figuring out how to reschedule everything that’s coming up with work—figuring out who he can ask if he needs to reallocate any of his assignments to anyone else, rearranging things for clients, and getting all the paperwork in order—all of it takes him nearly two hours. He wanders into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea, finds himself having to turn aside to cough, notes the unpleasant sting in his throat when he turns back around. 

It’s not terrible yet, but he feels distinctly off. His head feels a little heavy, and everything he does feels strangely—sluggish, maybe. Like he can’t quite manage to be as efficient as usual. Judging by past experience, he’s probably going to crash in a few hours.

He can already feel a headache brewing. Staring at his computer screen probably hasn’t helped with that. If he takes something for it, it’ll probably be at least tolerable when it gets worse.

He opens the medicine cabinet, rifles through the couple bottles and the first aid kit he has stashed in there.

Right. He’s out of Advil.

It’s no matter. Just a quick grocery trip, then—he can grab the rest of his groceries while he’s at it. Yves shuts the bathroom cabinet, grabs his wallet and keys, and makes it all the way to the doorstep outside when the wave of dizziness hits him.

All of a sudden, he feels a little lightheaded. Heat crawls up under his skin, prickling and unpleasant, as if something in him has cranked up the heat generation to the max—but that can’t be right, because he’s shivering inexplicably in the wake of it. He leans his weight back against the wall, squeezes his eyes shut.

Fuck. He probably should have gotten groceries first, before sorting out everything for work. Perhaps going out on his own now would not be the wisest.

He heads back in, locks the door, and—after some thought—calls Mikhail.

Mikhail picks up on the second ring. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Are you busy?” Yves starts, but the words catch on his throat, and he has to stop immediately to muffle a cough into his elbow. 

There’s a moment of silence on the other end. “It depends what you’re about to ask me for,” Mikhail says.

Yves swallows. Shuts his eyes. He doesn’t like asking for help, but he doesn’t think he’ll be in any state to be doing this on his own over the next few days. “It’s not that urgent. Just if you have time,” he says. 

He can almost feel Mikhail rolling his eyes on the other end. “You’d say that even if you were bleeding out.”

Yves laughs, startled. “I promise I’m not bleeding out. Just—do you think you could run to the store and get me some Advil?”

There’s another, longer pause on the other end. “Any time is fine,” Yves says. A part of him already regrets this. “If you’re busy right now—”

“I’ll be over in a few,” Mikhail says. Then the line goes dead.

—

He doesn’t remember drifting off, but when he wakes, it’s to a knock on the front door.

The knock is just for courtesy, of course. Mikhail is one of a few people whom he’s permitted the privilege—or the burden, perhaps—of having a spare copy of his apartment key.

Yves opens the door anyways.

There, in the windy April weather, Mikhail shuts an umbrella and leaves it dripping at his feet. “You look even worse than you sounded over call,” is the first thing he says.

Yves blinks at him, surprised. “Did I really sound that bad?”

In lieu of answering, Mikhail just looks at him, scrutinizing, the corner of his lip ticking downward. “What is it? An injury? A migraine?” When Yves shakes his head, Mikhail presses forward to pick a stray lint ball off of Yves’s shirt. His hand makes contact with Yves’s shoulder, and he frowns.

Before Yves has a chance to explain, he feels a tickle—not the first, today, and certainly not the last—surface. It’s irritatingly difficult to ignore, more irritating still when he finds himself forced to turn away, to duck into one arm—

“hHehh-!’ hEHh’yyiISCHh-HHEEW!”

The sneeze is rough enough to scrape against his throat. He coughs tightly into his raised arm.

“A cold,” Mikhail says, with a frown. “But usually you don’t take Advil for colds. Wait—don’t tell me this is something worse?”

Yves winces. What is he supposed to say to that? “The Advil was all I needed,” he says. “Thanks for making the trip. I owe you one.”

“No, I’m sure of it now,” Mikhail says. “If it were only a cold, you would’ve driven out to get this yourself.”

“It probably isn’t,” Yves says, neglecting to mention that he knows exactly where he caught this. “Thanks for bringing these. I’ll take the next couple days off. I—”

The next sneeze sneaks up on him. He ducks into his sleeve again, taking another step back.

“hHhEH’iiDzzsCHH-yYew!” The sneeze sends a burst of pain through his temples, and for a moment, he’s glad his face is too deeply buried into his sleeve for Mikhail to see.

“Does Vincent know?” Mikhail asks.

The question catches him off guard. “What?”

“That you’re apparently unwell enough to ask me to pick up Advil for you.”

Yves doesn’t like where this conversation is going. “I told you not to come if you were busy.”

“It’s not a problem,” Mikhail says. “But if you’re sick, shouldn’t he be over here, taking care of you?”

 “He’s had a really busy few weeks,” Yves says, which is true, but simultaneously might be true at any point during the year. He clears his throat. “I - coughcough - wouldn’t want him to catch this.”

“So he doesn’t even know,” Mikhail says.

…Perhaps Yves should’ve thought of a more convincing excuse. Mikhail isn’t the type of person to drop an issue after he’s raised it, and Yves had, perhaps, neglected to think about how—for all Mikhail does to appear casually disaffected—he’s one of the most perceptive people Yves has ever met. “He doesn’t have to know.”

“What are you talking about? He’s your partner. I’ll text him,” Mikhail says. It’s then when Yves recalls that Mikhail probably does have Vincent’s contact—exchanged before their trip to France, so that he could text them all to coordinate the rides to and from the airport.

“Wait,” Yves says, unable to keep the panic out of his voice. “Don’t. If you text him, he’ll - snf-! - feel obligated to come.”

Mikhail doesn’t lower his phone. “I’ll just ask him to drop by,” he says. “You can talk to him about it when he gets there.”

But that won’t happen—can’t happen—because Yves knows that if Vincent were to see him like this… 

I’d feel terrible if you caught this, he’d said. He’d sounded so upset over it. How can Yves, after all his reassurances last week, admit to him now that he’s faring badly enough to need someone to look after him? 

Besides, Vincent probably has enough on his plate already. Yves knows enough to know that in their line of work, taking time off almost always means being swamped with assignments upon return. 

“Please don’t ask him anything,” Yves says.

Mikhail looks long and hard at him. He looks as though he’s trying to puzzle something out. “Did you guys get into a fight, or something?”

“No,” Yves says. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Then, if you’re on good terms, why are you so resistant to the idea of him coming over?”

Yves squeezes his eyes shut, and then opens them. He can think of a dozen more excuses to field away the questions—that isn’t the hard part. Mikhail has always been good at seeing through his bullshit, but if Yves has to steer this conversation to a close through sheer willpower, he thinks he can do it. But then again—

Maybe it’s fine, he thinks, if Mikhail knows. For better or for worse, Mikhail is his best friend. Yves knows that if he asks him to keep his mouth shut about this, he will. 

“Vincent is my coworker,” he says, slowly.

Mikhail’s eyebrows creep up. “Yes, I’m aware.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Yves says, with a cough. “He is just my coworker. Nothing else.”

The alarm that flashes across Mikhail’s face is unmissable. “You two broke up?”

And there it is—another crossroads, where Yves thinks the easiest course of action would be to reshape the current lie into a simpler one, to keep the trappings of their fake relationship intact. With anyone else, it would be easier, that is.

Yves says, honestly, “We were never together in the first place.”

“But you went with him to France,” Mikhail says, confused. “Not to mention, to Margot’s new year party, and then to Joel and Cherie’s housewarming. Are you telling me—”

“That was all an act,” Yves tells him, and waits for this information to register. “There is nothing between us that’s real. That’s the reason I haven’t called him.”

The recognition settles on Mikhail’s face. Then he laughs, a little disbelieving. “You’re really not dating him? Why would you lie about that?”

“Do you remember Margot’s party?” Yves asks. It seems like the right place to start, after everything. “Erika was there with Brendon. And I was bitter, and—to be honest, jealous—and I wanted to show her I was fine. So I asked Vincent to go with me.”

“That was months ago,” Mikhail says.

“It was easier to just keep up the act, after that.” Yves says. “Easier to have him accompany me once a month than it would have been to stage a proper breakup. But obviously, this is all temporary. I just haven’t figured out when it’s going to end.”

Mikhail is quiet for a moment. Yves looks past him, at the staircase that leads down to the first floor.

“You’ll be fine, then,” he asks. “If you two break it off.”

“Of course,” Yves says. “I know it’s going to happen someday.”

“You won’t be upset at all?”

“What is there to be upset over?”

“From the way you spoke to him, I really thought there was something there,” Mikhail says.

“He is a good liar,” Yves says.

“Maybe so,” Mikhail agrees. “But you are not.”

He says it so calmly, it barely registers as an accusation. But Yves hears it, loud and clear.

“Vincent is attractive,” Yves says. “Anyone with eyes can see that. That’s all there is to it.” it feels wrong, even as he says it. Yves has always known Vincent to be attractive—that much hasn’t changed. But he knows that the feeling in his chest when he sees him at work, in the break room, or at lunch—the unusual ache—is a little more than that. 

“Margot’s party was at the end of December,” Mikhail says. “It’s April, now. Margot wouldn’t tell you this, but since I don’t like withholding my feelings from you, I will.”

Yves waits—waits for Mikhail to tell him how all of this has been unduly dishonest, how Mikhail doesn’t appreciate having been lied to.

But Mikhail doesn’t say any of that. Instead, he says: “If you’re still intent on keeping this fake relationship up…” Here, he meets Yves’s eyes, a little sternly. “You should think about who you’re really doing it for.”

It’s only for convenience, Yves wants to say. Now that we’ve set things up already, it’s merely the path of least resistance. But that isn’t quite right, is it?

“Don’t worry about me,” Yves says, trying a smile. “Vincent and I have talked this through already. Whatever happens with our arrangement, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Mikhail says. He pockets his phone, and then hands Yves the bottle of Advil. “Sorry for the interrogation, then. If you believe it to be fine, I trust you.” Perhaps that’s the worst part of it. Mikhail has never been the type of person to stay quiet about any foreseeable problems, but Yves knows that his agreement now is not a tactical retreat, nor is it an acknowledgment that it’s not worth arguing over something they won’t agree on. Mikhail is dropping the subject because he really trusts him.

Yves just doesn’t know if that trust is justified.

Mikhail turns on his heels, steps delicately past the hinge at the bottom of the doorframe. 

Yves clears his throat. “Thanks for stopping by.”

Mikhail nods. “Feel better soon. If you need anything other than Advil, just give me a call.”

Then he’s gone. Yves shuts the front door behind him and wonders just what exactly he’s gotten himself into.

[annie-sniffles]

desc ♡ sum sneezes from my very first winter cold xx

(tried to keep it down but its hard when a virus is teasing your nose. it tickled me until i desperately was sneezing every few minutes. this was all i could catch on camera in the duration of my recovery<3)

requests open!

[hetchiew]

would love to hear your symptoms and you whining about how much it sucks to be as sick as you are:( I just want to wrap you in a blanket and cuddle up with you until you feel better

I feel too out of it to edit this, so you get the full audio!😅🤗

Contains: lots of sneezing, whimpering, moaning & groaning, coughing after sneezing, both weak coughing fits & harsh coughing fits, panting & stuttering breaths, whining about how sick I feel (or at least trying too lol—my voice is a wreck), some mentions of mess, congested nose blowing, “oww”

[sneezarify]

A horny, shy fetishist who’s prone to terrible unstoppable desperate sneezing fits. I’m talking 10, 12, 15 sometimes 20 sneezes in one go.

Well, today they can tell they’re due a fit. A persistent tickle has plagued their nose all day��. and that’s bad, because with that tickles comes that warm flicker of arousal. You see sneezing turns them on, always has, hell even the tickle turns them on, and after 15 sneezes they’re rock hard every time.

They've been sat at their desk for hours snorting, sniffling, jostling and nudging at their nose, but now it’s getting dangerous. Their nostrils won’t stop flaring! The itch has become their sole focus. Their nose feels, somehow, bigger more inflamed as the tickle grows.

Fuck! their breath catches, “HEHH…HEH-NGGGXT - NGGXXT” they groan after two rapid fire stifles slip out…and their cock throbs in response.

At least no one heard, they think… Getting blessed just adds to the arousal.

They try and stay calm, but it doesn’t take long for their breathing to get unsteady and shaky again, they beg not to sneeze again but “EHHH-NGXT… HEH-NGGGXT-CHEW…ahhh..aaahhh… ahhh!! ...AHHHH-NGGGXX-CHEWW”… fuck! Each sneeze is such a horrible, sexy tease. Especially when they loose control of stifling, and a wet mist coats their arm.

This time they receive chorus of “bless yous” and it drives them absolutely wild. His cock stands to attention.

But they can’t focus on that, because at this point their nose feels itchier than ever, and before they can even achieve a full sniffle … “HAHH!! HHHAARRSHU, HAARRSHHHUU….” 9 back to back sneezes expel themselves from their nose.

The coworker next to him blessing each sneeze in shock! Bewildered and concerned at that almighty sneeze display.

He keeps his dripping wet hands clasped over his nose, before he sniffs, and looks up, sheepishly wiping them on his trousers. As expected he’s now ruby red, his heart pulsing, and sniffly. His rock hard cock straining against his trousers. Of course he’s unable to move for tissues until he’s feeling a little calmer downstairs.

“thank you” he stutters. Eyes on his computer pretending to work as his cock strains against his trousers.

[cattewife]

moving in

(a h/ualian modern au snzfic, part 3)

rating: E word count: ~6800 fandom: m/xtx t/gcf contains: (still) sneezing while fucking some mess, maybe escalating? (still attempts not to be graphic) allergic!h/ua c/heng, fet!x/ie l/ian the continuation of their sickening feelings-about-fetish banter two (2) in-text images (1 nsfw on ao3) x/ie l/ian moves in with h/ua c/heng at last, along with his cat, r/uoye, that h/ua c/heng is very allergic to.   he definitely won't lose it in front of his boyfriend immediately! (he will.) everything about this is going to be fine! (it is.)

>> read it on archiveofourown HERE <<

>> (post for part 1 here) << >> (post for part 2 here) <<

[ pls do not reblog to non snz/kink blogs! ]

[snzluv3r]

my honeymoon rhinitis is gonna make it impossible for me and my gf to record any wavs without me interrupting her with my sneezes when it’s not my turn to be doing the sneezing because her sneezes turn me on so fast that every time she sneezes i sneeze three times in return 🫠🫠🫠🫠 it’s so normal for us that whenever she sneezes and i have a fit after, she apologizes for sneezing, because she knows i’m sneezing because of her (and obviously i remind her that you Never have to apologize for that ever)

[ashchoo]

another goober to add to the cuddle puddle :D (@clownsuu)

[snzyflowrr]

OC master post

these are the links to all my Molly and Emilia fics, so we can have our girls all in one place. let me know if I missed any <3

fics are all 18+

Molly’s morning sneezing fit wlw allergies

Molly’s library sneezing fit allergies

Emilia’s nose piercing sneeze wlw nose tickling

Molly’s road trip sneeze attack wlw allergies

Molly’s cold sneezes cold

Emilia’s tanning sneezes wlw photic allergies

Molly sneezing while cuddling wlw nose tickling

Molly’s drunk fit wlw allergies

Molly spills her perfume allergies

Emilia’s sneezing at work allergies

Molly spring cleaning wlw allergies

Molly picnic sneezing fit wlw allergies