#sneezefic

[snzluckys]

Saw this in a NON snz blog, so I decided to draw my version 🤭

A T/o/Z OtT fanart based in a fic were l/ink catch a cold a navy take him to m/alon to take care of him 💖

[silentsneezes]

i'm returning from my unintentional writing hiatus with another j/ayvik fic! it's 3.3k words of whump and then inducing

CW for mentions of mess & snot, as well as descriptions of chronic pain & chronic illness

i will preface that a significant amount of this fic was written at 2am after i smoked a joint, so ignore any strange grammatical errors... with that said, i hope someone can enjoy!

There’s no perfect way to describe the way Viktor’s feeling – no amount of fancy word-working can truly capture the amount of discomfort he’s in. Well, pain more so than discomfort, but he’s not one to complain. 

Today it’s a dull, throbbing ache that seeps through each muscle and down to the bone at a constant rate. It’s as though the very marrow of his bones is being slowly compressed, each pulse of pressure rippling through his body in a sharp thrum. His skin feels too tight, stretched too thin over stiff, protesting joints. 

Every one of his movements, however small, reignites the unyielding ache in his core that demands constant attention. 

And god, his back. His back bears the brunt of his weight as he lays against a heating pad, wishing the meds he took would just kick the fuck in already. No matter how he adjusts his posture, the ‘discomfort’ continues. 

But he’s not one to complain. 

So he lays there, feeling utterly helpless in the face of a flare up – scratch that; feeling utterly helpless in the face of another flare up. He tries to rationalize the sensation, creating a mental list of symptoms and running through them in his mind. He’s a scientist after all. He’s familiar with the ins and outs of the body; medically speaking, he knows exactly what’s happening. 

Emotionally, however, he feels like a mess. Viktor typically prides himself on his ability to pull himself up by his bootstraps and push through whatever medical malady he’s experiencing. He’d grown up being forced to do exactly that, and it eventually became ingrained in him that if he can’t push through his illness, he’ll be left behind. 

He shifts in the bed as he hears the front door open. He’d recognize the weight and cadence of Jayce’s footsteps anywhere, so he doesn’t bother feeling worried as to who’s in the apartment. He tries to push himself upright, but his body refuses to cooperate, reacting with an ache that claws at his focus. It begins as a sharp, biting pain through the center of his back, the kind that begs for immediate relief.

He takes a steadying breath, waiting for the pain to lessen. After a few moments, it dulls enough for him to rest back against the pillows again. He listens to Jayce’s footsteps as his lover bustles around the apartment, taking off his coat and putzing around the kitchen for a few minutes. 

Viktor lays there, feeling immensely frustrated with himself, his illness. It’s not just the pain, but its persistence that wears him down– slow, inevitable. 

Some might say he’s dramatic, but there’s no way to understand the reality of chronic pain until you experience it. If anything, he’s not dramatic enough. He should be shouting to the rooftops about how unfair it is. How excruciating it is.

Instead, Viktor listens intently as Jayce starts walking towards the bedroom, waiting eagerly at the promise of his partner's company. The steady Thump. Thump. Thump. of Jayce’s footsteps grow louder as he approaches the door. 

The silence of the bedroom is broken as Jayce opens the door and steps in, murmuring a soft, “Vik? You awake?” upon finding the light to be off.

“Yes,” Viktor answers simply, managing to find his voice after a day of resigned silence. After all, he’d stubbornly insisted that Jayce go to the lab, meaning he was left alone for the majority of the day. 

Jayce closes the door behind him so no light can enter, quietly asking, “Migraine?” as he pads over to the bed. He knows that Viktor’s pain is a touchy subject, and he doesn’t want to push any buttons on a day when his boyfriend’s already surely frustrated. 

“No,” Viktor answers. Surprisingly, it’s truthful, especially with how often he’s been getting migraines lately – frustratingly incapacitating, in his opinion. Still, everything else seems to hurt, and the thought of doing anything that involves getting out of bed seems utterly exhausting. 

Jayce squints down at Viktor in the dark, trying to make out his face as his eyes adjust to the lack of light. He places a gentle hand on Viktor’s head, sifting his fingers through his hair and letting out a tired breath, “the lab was boring without you.” 

“Hm,” is all Jayce receives in response. He doesn’t mind. He doesn’t entirely understand how frustrating it is to be stuck in a bed all day, but he sees how much it weighs on his partner.

“Is there anything I can do?” Jayce asks softly, continuing to work his hand through Viktor’s hair and silently appreciating the little curls intermixed with the longer strands. 

“No,” Viktor answers again, and Jayce feels a pang of sympathy for his lover. He leans down, kissing Viktor’s forehead before standing up, “I’ll be right back.” 

Viktor lays there, unmoving, until Jayce returns to their bedroom. His eyes have had enough time to adjust to the dark room that he can make out Jayce’s figure fairly easily. He watches as the engineer pads over to the bed, and he can feel the mattress shift to accommodate the weight of a new person. 

Jayce gets into bed carefully, making his movements deliberate and slow so as to not jostle Viktor. Immediately, he notices the cord stretched across the bed to Viktor’s heating pad. 

Shit, he must’ve had a rough day, Jayce thinks as he mentally chastises himself for going to the lab – though Viktor had been insistent, and Jayce always seems to lose those quarrels. 

Jayce gently shifts closer, resting a broad hand on Viktor’s chest and murmuring, “I missed you today,” as he melts into the bed. He smiles as he feels Viktor’s hand rest over his, smaller and much colder in comparison. 

The couple lay in a contented silence, only interrupted as Viktor occasionally shifts in an attempt to relieve the pain in his back. After a while, an idea crosses Jayce’s mind – one that he’s considered before, but hasn’t quite worked up the courage to enact. Tonight seems like as good a night as any to try. 

So he slowly removes himself from the bed, murmuring a halfhearted excuse about needing to pee before padding to the bathroom. He rifles around a few drawers before finding what he’s been looking for: a travel pack of tissues and some q-tips. 

It feels strange as he gathers the items, tucking them into his pocket and then flushing the toilet aimlessly so his lie about using the restroom isn’t easily disproved. 

He’s used to getting tissues for Viktor, but tonight they’ll have a different use. He blushes at the prospect of following through with his idea, but the plan has already begun, so he might as well continue. 

Jayce pads back to the bedroom, laying beside Viktor again in the dark. Suddenly, he feels too hot, his mind racing as he removes a tissue from his pocket as quietly as possible. His hands tremble slightly as he twists its tip into a fine line – the same way he’s seen Viktor do it when inducing him previously – and he takes a moment to steady himself. 

After all, it’s just sneezing, right? Everyone sneezes, and with the room as darkly lit as it is, there’s no way Viktor will know he’s inducing. Plus, he’s doing it for Viktor’s sake. 

He and Viktor have toyed around with sexual pleasure as pain relief before, but rarely in relation to V’s kink. Jayce figures that any other attempts to help will be turned down, so he’s taking things into his own hands… ‘quite literally’ he thinks as he holds the inducing tool between his thumb and forefinger. 

After a moment of nervous trepidation, Jayce brings the twisted tissue up to his left nostril, barely inserting it. It feels awkward at first, especially as his nostrils flare in protest. He’s used to Viktor inducing him, and he finds himself missing the dominant hand of his partner that usually holds his chin in place. 

Jayce continues, pushing the tip further into his nose and feeling it brush across the innermost walls, igniting an itch in his sinuses. He twists it to the left, resulting in a sharp, but quiet hitch, “hh”. The itch worsens, and Jayce eggs it on, bobbing the tissue in and out ever so slightly as he twists it side to side. 

His nose isn’t nearly as sensitive as Viktor’s, and he’s certain his partner would have already sneezed by now had he been inducing. Still, the tissue is surprisingly effective, and it only takes a moment before:

“hh’hiH-H’HhRRSXCHHhew!”

Jayce feels the spray of the sneeze against his hand, sniffling as the itch continues to buzz throughout his nose. He keeps the tissue held in place, not daring to remove it from his nostril and risk losing the itch. 

“Bless you,” Viktor murmurs quietly, feeling a thrum through his body, this time one of pleasure rather than pain. It’s almost humorous how quickly he’s affected by Jayce’s sneezes – all it takes is one hitch and a sneeze for his stomach to fill with a liquid desire. 

“Thank you,” Jayce responds, clearing his throat a little and shifting in the bed. Viktor listens with rapt attention as he hears Jayce’s sniffling continue to cut through the silence of the room. It’s not entirely uncommon for Jayce to sneeze in singles, but Viktor much prefers it when he’s granted a double – or if he’s especially lucky, a triple. 

Sure enough, Jayce’s breath catches again a few seconds later, and Viktor suddenly wishes it wasn’t so damned dark in the room. He wants to see Jayce’s expression, to watch his usually composed features melt into a haze. What he doesn’t know is that Jayce is twisting the dampened tip of the tissue further into his nose, intent on pleasing his lover. 

“hh…. hhHh– h’ih’hH’ESShXCHHuw! h’ahH’DtTSCHHhew!!”

The sneezes practically tumble out after one another, and once again Jayce can feel the spray cast upon his hand, though these sneezes were considerably wetter than the first. The tip of the twisted up tissue is sodden by now, wilting in his hold as he removes it from his nose. 

Viktor’s stomach fills with the familiar heat, his focus straying as he pictures Jayce’s nose twitching and scrunching up in preparation for each sneeze. 

“Excuse me,” Jayce says with a wet sniffle, beginning to twist the next tissue into a satisfactory inducing tool. He shifts closer to Viktor as he does so, careful not to jostle the bed or cause any unnecessary pain. 

Once he’s cuddled closer to Viktor’s side, he adjusts so he can bring the tissue back up to his nose. He inserts its tip into his left nostril, immediately feeling it flare in protest. His breath catches in a sudden, “hHhh’uhh–” 

“hhh… ehHh-eH’HHSZXCHhew!” Jayce turns his face towards Viktor as the expulsion tears through him, allowing his sneeze to be entirely unrestrained. Even in the complete darkness of the bedroom, he can tell that there’s a sheen of spray across Viktor’s shoulder. 

Jayce sniffles, immediately focussing on inducing again. He knows how much of an effect his sneezes have on Viktor, and if he can provide his partner with any sense of comfort or distraction, he’s sure as hell going to do that. 

“h’uhhH– … snf snf… hhhHh-HNGGSZXCHh’uh!nghh” Jayce turns towards Viktor once again, letting out a quiet involuntary whimper as the sneeze grates against his throat. He feels the mess of the sneeze cling to his hand, knowing damn well some of it had fallen onto Viktor’s shoulder. 

Luckily for him, it’s dark enough that he doesn’t need to be embarrassed over the mess he’s making. Besides, Viktor would only find it more arousing (although the inability to see Jayce allows his imagination to take some control). 

“Bud'te zdorovy,” Viktor murmurs a Russian blessing, his tone shifting to slight concern. Five sneezes from Jayce usually means he’s dealing with some sort of cold or allergies – which he avidly denies having. 

“Th-hh-ank you,” Jayce whispers as he twists the tissue further into his nostril, his eyes fluttering shut as his breath hitches, “hH-! ihhH… hH’eh-”

Jayce can feel every little breath against the back of his hand as he pushes the tissue further into his nostril. He’s used to his build ups being longer and more dramatic, oftentimes ending in a stuck sneeze or false start. Today, however, his nose seems to understand the task at hand: to sneeze. The needy hitches are quickly followed with a series of harsh expulsions. 

“hhih-hHDD’iHSSXCHHHuhh! h’iISXHCHhuh’cHew! hhh… ndgh… hhH–”

Jayce’s hitches intermix with a needy whine as he twists the tissue’s tip around, desperate to coax out the illusive third sneeze. He can feel Viktor’s hand snaking around his waist, pulling him closer, and he eagerly submits. 

Jayce waits until the itch reaches his peak to remove the inducing tool from his nose, burying the itchy appendage in his partner's neck with a final “hhHaH-aAhH’TSSXCHHuUHhew!”

Jayce blushes as he feels a mess of snot clinging from his nose to Viktor’s neck, and he does his best to snort it back with a wet SNNRRK! 

His embarrassment lessens as he hears the whisper of a suppressed moan from Viktor. He feels an odd sense of pride at having caused – no, earned – the noise through something as simple as a sneezing fit. 

“Bless you,” Viktor purrs again, “What’s gotten into you, Zolotse [darling]?”

Jayce grins at hearing the desire in Viktor’s voice while blessing him, sniffling and rubbing his nose against the exposed skin of Viktor’s neck. Rather than answering, he presses a light kiss to a mole just below his lover’s jaw. 

Jayce continues planting little kisses along Viktor’s neck before pulling away. As much as he’d love to continue, the sodden twisted up tissue is sitting neglected in his hand. He tosses it aside, instead retrieving a q-tip from his pocket – he doesn’t want to waste time having to twist a tissue into an adequate tool. 

Viktor hums a quiet noise of protest as Jayce pulls away, giving his waist a light squeeze in order to bring him closer. Jayce grins, shifting closer while managing to prop himself up enough as to where he can reach his nose. It’s a bit awkward on his behalf, sure, but he feels oddly confident in the darkness of the room. 

Jayce wipes his nose against his wrist in preparation, feeling a sleek trail of mess against his skin. He ignores the sensation, deciding to tease his right nostril this time. He’s quick to insert the q-tip into the flaring nostril, blinking as his eyes begin to water at the sensation. If he had thought the itch was bad before, it was nothing compared to what it is now. Whether it’s the use of a different inducing tool or the change in nostrils, Jayce doesn’t know. 

What he does know is that his breath is catching, his nose scrunching up as he pushes the q-tip further against the innermost walls of his nose. He can feel Viktor’s hand begin to rub his side, gentle fingers slipping under his t-shirt and brushing across his skin.

The sensation is drowned out by the urgency of his hitching, each breath coming before he’s even had a chance to exhale the previous one. His chest swells with every tantalizing gasp, “hhhh– h’ehHngh- hHhhH-.... hhhHH-”

Jayce barely registers the purr of Viktor’s voice as he murmurs, “just let it out,” with an undeniable arousal. Jayce’s breath catches again “hhHH-” before he stills for a moment, frozen as the itch surges through his sinuses down to the very tip of his nose. 

After a moment’s silence, he gives the q-tip one last twist to the right, and the long awaited expulsion tears through him, “hhhh’uhH- HrRRSCDCHHHew’hhh!”

All Jayce can manage is a desperate gasp, “hHHH-,” before a second sneeze barrels out, his face once again buried in Viktor’s neck, “hhHHH’eh- hhHHDSZXHCHhhew!”

“Bud'te zdorovy,” Viktor purrs again, his hand coming up to tangle itself in Jayce’s hair. Jayce snuffles liquidly, rubbing his nose against Viktor’s neck once again and eliciting a pleasured, half swallowed moan. 

Viktor’s concern over the cause of Jayce’s sneezes is temporarily forgotten, replaced with a desire to hear him sneeze again. And judging by the way Jayce’s nose is twitching and flaring against his neck, he suspects his desire will be fulfilled. 

Jayce’s hand brushes awkwardly against Viktor’s chest as he raises the q-tip back to his nose, and he’s worried for a moment that Viktor will realize he’s inducing. That worry is quickly replaced by an insatiable, buzzing itch as the q-tip teases his nose once again. 

“Fuck–,” Jayce whispers, his voice caught between a whimper and a moan. He barely manages to take a single breath before a half-stifled runt of a sneeze makes his shoulders shudder, “hhHNGSSZX’sch!”

Viktor’s hand tightens its hold on Jayce’s waist, pulling his partner closer in order to have some friction between their hips. Jayce submits willingly, shifting closer and propping himself up with one arm so his other hand can remain free to induce himself. 

Determined to elicit another moan, Jayce twists the q-tip further into his nose. The effect is more urgent than he’d anticipated, and he lets out a whine of desperation without even meaning to. Within seconds, that whine intermixes with hitching breaths, and he tries to pinch his flaring nostrils shut in time to stifle, ““hhHNNGT’ksch!”

The sneeze is squashed awkwardly between two fingers, the wetness of the suppressed expulsion audible and arousing. Viktor lets out a needy noise of pleasure, his hand moving further down Jayce’s side until his fingers are tracing along his lover’s inner thigh. 

“Are you feeling okay, sólnyshka?” he murmurs, his voice low and seeped in desire.

Jayce doesn’t reply initially, busying himself with the mess that’s threatening to slip out over his upper lip. (SNNrRK!) He’s too distracted by the lingering itch and the moisture clinging to his nostrils to register Viktor’s movement as he reaches to turn on the lamp. 

It’s only when he hears the quiet click and the room is flooded with light that Jayce realizes he’s still holding the q-tip just below his nose. His eyes widen, and he blushes crimson as Viktor takes in the scene. 

Viktor’s lips immediately curl into a smirk, his hand returning to Jayce’s inner thigh as he purrs, “What do we have here?”

Despite not having the kink himself, Jayce can’t help the thrum of arousal that pulses through his body – the combination of Viktor’s voice and touch making his stomach swirl. 

“Pain management,” Jayce replies stupidly, looking suddenly sheepish as he holds the dampened q-tip between his thumb and forefinger.

“What-?” Viktor starts in disbelief, smiling widely. An actual, real smile, unaccompanied by a pained wince. As much as he still hurts, Jayce’s idiotic attempt to entertain his fetish is enough to make him feel a smidge better. Honestly, just his presence is enough to lessen the thrums of pain throughout his body. 

“Is that… okay?” Jayce asks with an embarrassed grin, his cheeks still flushing with a crimson blush.

Viktor nods stiffly, “you’re an imbecile,” he tuts affectionately. Typically when he’s met with care or affection, he resorts to deflecting or teasing Jayce. He does so now too, even though he feels a rush of gratitude for his partner, who’s so desperate to help him he’s resorted to inducing. 

Jayce returns Viktor’s smile, his tooth gap visible as he rolls his eyes at the taunt. He rubs his nose with a knuckle, the movement accompanied with a liquid sniffle. 

Viktor is quick to pluck the q-tip from Jayce’s hand, his thin fingers holding the inducing tool with practiced ease, “Let me help you.”

Jayce nods eagerly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. He shifts closer, placing a hand on Viktor’s waist and waiting in apprehension for Viktor to take control. 

as always, any comments and tags are much appreciated (especially with how low my writing motivation is at the moment lol)! i could potentially be persuaded to write a second part if people are interested...

also if anyone has any ideas as to what to title this fic, i'd love to hear any suggestions

[sunshinesickies]

Feveruary Day 5— “Could you just hold me?”— Jinx x Reader

Based on a request. My first time writing Jinx! I low-key ran out of motivation today and it’s not proof read, but I hope it’s okay, I just wanna do my baby justice

It started about a week ago, your suspicions that your girlfriend was coming down with a cold. At first it was just a few small comments here and there about small headaches or being achy, but nothing even close to outright admitting she might be getting sick.

Back when you’d first started dating, and even before that when you were friends, there had been a few times when you had brought up your concerns about whatever bugs she’d managed to catch at the time, but you’d learned your lesson quickly that being taken care of like that was no where near her comfort zone.

By now, Jinx had become more used to vocalizing her needs and quite often complains about her gadgets and whatnot, but what she still isn’t used to, is vulnerability. Especially when it comes to sickness. She has no problems taking care of you when you’re feeling under the weather, but she herself doesn’t get sick often, and if she does, she rarely lets you know.

So you treaded carefully. But that was a while ago, and you and Jinx have come really far in your relationship and how you go about being with each other. Still, this whole week you’ve been tentative, unsure of how to approach the subject that your girlfriend was very clearly sick and should definitely be resting, not pulling all-nighters to work on her projects.

A few days ago you’d decided that for now, you weren’t going to mention her growing cold unless it got drastically worse, and that for now, you’d just make sure to do little things to make her life easier. Things like reminding her to eat since she often skips meals when’s she’s deep in her work, or bringing her a fresh glass of water, claiming you ‘just want her to stay hydrated’, and buying boxes of tissues and leaving them inconspicuously where you know she’ll find them if she needs them.

Your hope was that eventually, she’d give in and come to you about her illness. But now, almost a week later, you’d begun to believe it just wasn’t something she was comfortable with. You hope that one day she’ll invite you in completely, though you know it will take time, and you’re okay with that. Because there’s no one else you’d rather be with, no one else you rather be there for, and you know she loves you. So you’ll be patient, because you love her too.

Your attention is pulled away from your thoughts when you distantly hear a harsh sneeze followed by a muttered ‘bless me’ coming from Jinx’s workshop. You roll your eyes slightly with a small chuckle. You’d lost track of how many times that had happened even just today, though you took note that Jinx blessed herself out loud every single time without fail. It made you smile each time you learned a new little quirk of your girlfriend’s. A moment later you hear the muffled sounds of her blowing her nose, which you really hope she’s doing so in some of the tissues you’d strategically placed earlier.

You return to your own activity, doing your best to focus and distract yourself from the desire to just storm into the workshop, scoop up your stubborn girlfriend, wrap her in a blanket like a burrito and hold her until she’s better. She’ll come to you when she’s ready. You remind yourself gently.

A few hours later and you’ve finished your work and are now cozied up on Jinx’s old battered couch with a soft blanket, reading a book. A sudden BOOM makes your head jerk up from the pages, your senses immediately going on high alter.

Random explosions and sudden loud noises are something you’ve grown used to, you are dating Jinx after all, but something about this one felt off to you. Not to mention it was quickly followed by a string of unhinged cursing. Another explosive sound echos from the other room and you’re quickly on your feet, jumping up and sprinting to the source.

You burst into the workshop to find Jinx in the middle of what seems to be an emotional meltdown—most likely caused by her sickness, you guess. Once you see she’s not in any active danger, you wait a moment to see if she’ll calm down. She’s swearing up a storm, pacing in front of her workbench and grumbling angrily towards herself and at whatever she’s holding in her hands.

You decide to make yourself known when she slumps down on her stool, tossing her gadget across the workbench with an exasperated huff. “Jinx? Babe you alright, I heard some booms.” You try to speak as softly as possible as to not to startle her. She turns quickly to watch as you further enter the room, her hands pulling at her long braids which are messy and becoming undone.

“oh, hey toots. Everything’s just peachy.” She drawls sarcastically. “And haven’t you ever heard an explosion before? I mean have ya met me?” She tries to deflect but you give her a pointed look. “Jinx.” Is all you have to say and right then, you can see her resolve leaving as her shoulder sag even more and she gazes towards the ground.

“Jus’ a little mishap…” She gestures vaguely in the direction her invention rolled off to. “…can’t get the stupid thing to work, maybe I need to sleep on it.” She mutters, obviously annoyed at herself. You calmly close the distance between you, but leave enough space so she doesn’t feel crowded by your presence.

“You, admitting you need sleep? Never thought the day would come.” You joke lightly to keep yourself from showing your growing worry. Now that you’re closer, you can see smudges of gunpowder and oil all over her skin and clothes, probably from the explosion. Your heart clenches as the thought of her getting impacted by it, at least she didn’t seem hurt.

But she is without a doubt sick. Her normally pale face is alarmingly ghostly yet her cheeks are flushed a deep pink in contrast, and her forehead is practically dripping with sweat from working herself too hard, and from the fever you know she has.

She smiles slightly at your words but her light chuckle quickly turns into a deep coughing fit that has her doubled over and you rushing to rub her back and hold her steady. “Jinx” You repeat when she’s done and she looks up at you, her amethyst eyes watery and drooping with exhaustion. You cup the side of her face with you hand, frowning deeply at the amount of heat you feel.

“Let’s take a break, hmm? Get ya cleaned up?” You suggest gently and you can see her mind spinning, calculating her next move. With the softness in your tone, and the tenderness of your thumb brushing her cheek, she finally gives in, allowing you to lead her to the bathroom. You sit her down on the closed toilet seat and turn to the sink, wetting a cloth with warm water and a little soap.

Silently, she lets you clean off her face, arms, and neck. You could have had her get in the shower, but that’s a battle for another time, you decided as you watched her eyes flutter between open and closed while you worked. When you’re done, you guide Jinx to your makeshift bed, letting her change out of her dirty clothes while you grab her a glass of water.

When you return, she’s already in bed and you hide your surprise that you didn’t have to convince her further. She watches you with tired eyes as you set the water on the nightstand for later before you sit on the edge of the bed. “Is there anything else I can do to uh…” You don’t exactly know how to phrase it, but she nods as you trail off.

“Could, could you maybe just hold me?” Jinx whispers so low and so shyly you almost don’t hear it, but of course you do, because all your love and attention is on her. You smile softly as you nod and immediately move to get into bed with her. “Of course, babes.” She wastes no time snuggling close to your side, resting her head to your chest with a deep sigh.

You wrap your arms tightly around her, grounding her to the moment, and you feel her body soften as she finally allows herself to start relaxing. You stay like this for so long, and she’s so quiet, that you’re sure she’s asleep when you whisper the question that’s been on your mind all week.

“Why is it so hard for you to let yourself be sick, love?” You murmur, your tone one of pure curiosity, with the intent to understand, not a hint of accusation anywhere. She hears you, a breathes in deeply, shifting slightly in your hold. You’re taken aback when she answers quietly a moment later. “I-I dunno…but I think ‘m working on it.” Her words are soft and honest.

“I know you are. I’m here for you Jinx.” You hum, placing a kiss to her blue hair as you hold her slightly shivering form closer. She settles back down, her eyes still closed, but a few minutes later you feel her chest rise unevenly against you. She attempts to pull away but you hold her gently in place, a silent reassurance that its okay.

“Heh’EsSShhhuh! HhHih—hiHSSchHhihww!!” She releases two strong sneezes against your shirt then gives a harsh sniffle. “ugh bless me” she murmurs as you hum the words at the same time.

You look down at her, amused confusion in your expression. “You do that a lot.” You comment lightly. Your girlfriend looks up at you, her tired eyes imploring you to expand. “You bless yourself every time you sneeze.” You explain your observation.

“Oh yeah, I guess I do. I don’t think I even realize I’m doing it, it’s just a force of habit from back when I was…alone so much.” She trails off quietly, gaze shifting down. You hold her a touch tighter.

“Well…you’re not anymore. And as your girlfriend it’s now my job to say it.” You smile at her with a soft toothy grin. Jinx lets out a rough chuckle. “You’re a dork.” She playfully roles her eyes. “Buuutttt I’m your dork…” you pause a moment when you feel her chest rise slightly against yours again and for a moment time freezes as you marvel at her adorable pre-sneeze face before she’s tucking her pink nose away from your face.

“NuhHnnPptsshhiiww!” She sneezes once more before her nose finally seems to be done. She groans into your chest. “…and bless you.” You hum gently as she sniffles wetly. “Thandks.” Jinx mumbles, voice thick with congestion as she shifts around a little until she’s comfortable again.

“ughhh I feel like absolute crap.” She complains and you have to hold back an eye roll. “I know. But maybe you’ll let me take care of you now? I think you pushed yourself a litte too much this week. You need to rest.” You say, trying your new grounds and she hums in agreement.

“Fineeee. But only ‘cuz I love you. Well, and ‘cuz that stupid gadget refuses to work.” She mumbles, followed by a loud yawn.

You chuckle lightly as your hand moves to start running along her back under her loose shirt. “Thank you baby. Now just sleep, Jinx. I’ll be here.”

[4108927]

pretty long holdback session -> stifled sneeze -> immediate accidental half stifle -> full let out -> “oh fuck, that feels goo—” -> desperately let out fit

[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!

[wickedsniffles]

Domestic Bliss

Summary: A bit of morning sex during allergy season. Wade has the kink. Logan has the allergies ❤️ (This got SO out of control but holy moly was it fun to write)

Pairing: Wade Wilson aka Deadpool x Logan Howlett aka Wolverine

Rating: Explicit

Tags: established relationship, oral sex, handjobs, snz, kink!Wade, praise kink, pet names, fluff

Word Count: 1.2K

Wade's situated between Logan's legs, on his stomach, in the warm nest of their bed. He's sucking his cock in an almost dreamlike state, only half focused on the task at hand (in mouth). As nice as it is to get his partner off, as much as he loves to do it…it's getting harder and harder to ignore his own arousal. 

It's all because of the look on Logan's face. Flushed pink and worrying at his lip, Logan is the fucking picture of sexual pleasure. His pretty hazel eyes laser focused on Wade, breathing heavy as he fights not to arch up into his mouth. 

One hand sits on top of Wade's head, fingernails digging into his scalp gently. The other stays at his side, wandering up to his face every once in a while to scrub at his nose. The nose that is much darker shade of pink than his face, itchy and irritated, only drawing attention to the handsome shape and strong outline. 

Wait, what? 

Yeah, you read that right. Wade's unashamedly sucking cock and getting off to how Logan looks like he's trying hard to stay in the moment, focus on Wade, and not give in to the itch they both know is torturing him. 

It's allergy season, baby. And they might both be built to heal anything from a papercut to an axe wound, but that healing factor doesn't do shit against a nose as sensitive as Logan's. He's a wreck with the first warm breeze. 

A polite wreck, to be sure. Uncharacteristically polite. Of course, with Logan being Logan, there's no way he'd come out and admit to being taken down by something as small as a grain of pollen. The first time Wade notices him being allergic to something, Logan stifles it so well that he almost misses it entirely. Like a fucking sneeze ninja. 

They'd been cuddling together on the couch. Logan had just, like, frozen in place and pressed a knuckle to the side of his nose. His shoulders shook once, twice, three times. A soft exhale. 

Wade remembers bristling. Kink activated. “Um…bless you?” 

Logan had gone bright red down to the tips of his ears. “Shut up.”

The more attention Wade paid – and trust him, audience, he was paying plenty of attention now – the more times he caught him. When there's a lot of dust. When it's cold outside. Around certain flowers. God help him. As months passed and they got more comfortable around one another, Logan stopped stifling them like that every time. But Wade knew it was still his first instinct. 

Wade moans around what's in his mouth and takes Logan deeper, pressing his hips hard into the mattress. He can't believe Logan hasn't sneezed since he started sucking him off. 

But he looks like he might. Wade knows the look by now. A lot of blinking with those long pretty eyelashes. Expression going all distant and far away. Breath hitching, lips parting.  

That, or he's about to come. The fact that the two expressions are so similar makes another wave of heat clench in Wade's abdomen. 

“So fuckin' – good, baby,” Logan croaks, sounding absolutely wrecked. He scrubs at his nose with a thick sniffle, swallowing hard. “You gettin’ close too?” 

Wade whines his affirmative. I’d be closer if you indulged my weird kinks, bub. 

Smiling at that, Logan thrusts deeper into his mouth, making Wade take more, and god that’s a treat in itself. 

“You’re –” his breath hitches, followed by another irritated sniff.  “You’re gonna make me come,” he says. Nose scrunching in that familiar way.  “Wade –” 

He can’t take it anymore. Wade takes the hand that Logan has on his head and winds his fingers through, then grabs his other hand by the wrist until he’s locked in place. Oh, oops, sorry, I’m sooo cute and I just wanna hold your hands while I suck you off. Or do I have ulterior motives? 

They make eye contact. Logan tries to break loose from the grip, but Wade’s not letting him move an inch. Logan’s no idiot. He knows exactly what Wade’s trying to do, what he’d like to happen. His eyes narrow, both with exasperation and the effort of trying to hold back. Wade’s heart leaps. 

“You are f-fucking…” 

Oh, he’s not holding back this time. Wade grins like the devil around the cock in his mouth. 

“Heh…heh’ESSH-uh! Esshh! ESSHH-uh!”

Logan sneezes into his shoulder, breathy and desperate. Finally finally finally – 

That’s all Wade needs. With a long, muffled whimper, he comes hard against the sheets, feeling the warmth of it bloom against his stomach with each spasm. He relaxes into the mess, going boneless, and hears Logan scoff out a laugh. 

Wrestling his hands free, he carefully takes himself out of Wade’s mouth. 

“Bless you,” Wade manages, working his jaw. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Logan answers. “I was gonna say ridiculous.” 

“Yeah.” He’s definitely not gonna deny that. Wade Wilson is the original seven herbs and spices of ridiculous, with some added kick to keep people on their toes. 

His Wolverine’s eyes crinkle up into a smile. “C’mere, Red.” 

Crawling up until he’s straddling Logan’s cock, Wade can’t help but mirror the expression. There’s no one else on this planet – no one else in the multiverse – who matches his freak like Logan does. Who loves him like Logan does. They’re two perfect halves of the same fucked up pepperoni pizza. 

Wade rubs his half-hard cock against Logan’s until he’s groaning with need, gripping it tight before leaning in to kiss that spot on his neck that makes him all hot under the collar. Logan gasps instantly and almost crushes Wade to him, pressing his face into Wade’s old t-shirt. Tilting his head for better access. 

“Fuck, please,” he says, breath hot on Wade’s skin through the material. 

He comes undone in only a few strokes, in just a handful of open-mouthed kisses pressed to his neck. Logan pants and gasps through every pulse of his orgasm, arching into Wade’s hand as Wade strokes him through it. 

“Good boy,” Wade tells him, low and hot in the shell of Logan’s ear. He shudders at the praise, dribbling a little more come with the smallest sound of need. Fuck. 

They breathe for a while, cuddled close like that. The feeling of Logan’s arms around him and listening to his pulse gradually slow against Wade’s cheek is his idea of a lazy morning well spent. He’d gladly spend hours like this, if it weren’t for the mess they’re currently covered in starting to get cold. Hell, they might come right back here to their little bed nest after they shower. 

“C’mon, peanut,” he says eventually. “Let’s get cleaned up. We’re gonna be stuck together if we don’t move now.” 

Logan doesn’t answer at first. When he does, his response is another trio of hitched sneezes into the collar of Wade’s shirt, followed by an irritated growl. 

“Sorry. And yeah, let’s go,” he sighs, rubbing at his itchy nose with the back of his hand. “Wade, get offa me.”  

Wade can’t move; he’s stunned into horny silence, more than aware of his cock filling up against Logan’s thigh. 

Once he realizes what’s going on, Logan breaks out in an embarrassed grin, shoving Wade off of his lap and onto the mattress. 

“You are the fucking worst.” 

“I love you too, babygirl,” Wade says sweetly. “And bless you!”

[whumpusgumpus]

Caught him mid flu sneezing fit 👀

[syncsnzthings]

SFW OC snzfic - lab experiment - Rowan and Daniel

I've been obsessed with this concept for a while, I can't stop thinking about it.

SUMMARY: Rowan agreed to be the test subject for his friend, who works in/runs a lab that tests pharmaceuticals for companies that make allergy meds. He has no idea that he's not testing an antihistamine; it's something a lot more interesting. WARNINGS: Sneezing, long holdbacks (in a way), mild scientific malpractice if you squint, something akin to sneeze torture but not really WORDS: 3,100

━━━━━»•»🌺

The door to the lab finally opens and Rowan's head perks up to see Daniel wheeling in a tray covered by a thin sheet of cloth. Rowan, ever eager to help, had agreed to be the first test subject for a compound Daniel's lab had produced. Although he works in data entry and has no connections to the actual lab practices—save for his friendship with Daniel—he always ends up getting dragged into these things. He has such a hard time saying no when he's the best test subject any of them can think of.

Daniel and his lab associates do contract work for various pharmaceutical companies, mainly companies that produce allergy medication. Because of this—and factors unknown to Rowan, though he knew there were some—Daniel had taken up a project in creating his own compound with some of the research money the lab had been granted.

The basic rundown he was given was that this medication was supposed to prevent him from sneezing. It's a challenge finding something that will halt Rowan's allergies entirely; he seems to be allergic to everything under the sun, and he's never found an allergy medication that completely mitigates all of his symptoms. Hence, he's the perfect test subject for whatever Daniel and his associates cook up.

"Rowan," Daniel greets him with a friendly smile after he crosses the short distance from the door to the side of the medical cot Rowan is sitting on. He stills the cart, adjusts it slightly to be within reach but not in the way, then turns his full attention to Rowan. "Are you ready to test this out? You haven't taken your usual allergy medication today?"

Rowan returns the smile , his back straightening up in anticipation for the test. "Just like you said. I hope it's worth it, I've been itchy all day."

"Even in the winter, with no seasonal allergens around, your nose is insatiable," Daniel replies, dry amusement coloring his usually professional tone. "And you swallowed the liquid ten minutes ago?" Rowan fixes him with a look. "I have to cover all my bases. It's important that everything is accounted for."

"Yes, I took the stuff when you told me to and then came right here," Rowan says. "I've been waiting here for you forever, you know."

"Ten minutes is hardly forever," Daniel says distractedly. He pinches the thin cloth covering the cart between gloved fingers and tugs it aside, folding it haphazardly and placing it on the counter lining the adjacent wall.

Rowan finally gets a glimpse of what's underneath. He's used to a sight similar to this because of his history of volunteering as a test subject: a tray of allergens, each guaranteed to produce some kind of reaction in him. Usually the tests are for antihistamines, so triggering his allergies doesn't make him react too horribly. This time, he finds himself getting slightly nervous. Daniel had never used the word antihistamine this time, he only said that it was supposed to stop him from sneezing. Daniel is nothing if not precise, so the sudden switch in vocabulary had instantly struck Rowan as odd. He's off his usual allergy meds, and he has an unknown substance working its way through his blood.

"Are you ready to begin?" Daniel turns his eyes back to Rowan, a flash of something Rowan doesn't recognize passing over his expression.

"Well, as ready as I ever am, I guess!" Rowan replies, trying to sound chipper despite his increased nerve.

Daniel nods once. He reaches for the tray on the cart and picks up a long feather, pointed at the tip but quickly morphing into soft disarray closer to the base. Rowan takes in a quick anticipatory breath as Daniel's hand approaches his face. The sharp tip of the feather begins tracing a gentle path along the rims of Rowan's nose and his breath catches again, this time caused by the tickle that instantly spreads up through his sinuses. Whatever it is that Daniel had him take, it did not make his nose any less sensitive to the stimulus.

Rowan pauses, his breath hitching sharply for a long moment. He's entirely prepared to sneeze and let Daniel mark this one down as a failure for now. But nothing happens. His breath evens out again only to pick back up into quick hitches and gasps. He sniffles and blinks his eyes open to look at Daniel.

"Wahh- hih! What's hahhppening? I need to… ihh!" Rowan stutters through his unsteady breathing. His vision is slightly unfocussed, but he swears he sees Daniel's lips quirk up into a satisfied smirk.

"It looks like the compound is working perfectly," Daniel offers as a simple, unhelpful answer. He continues teasing Rowan's nose with the feather, turning it on its side now to let the soft, flexible plumes rub against Rowan's sensitive nostrils.

Rowan twists his head to the side and Daniel lets him do it, lowering his hand to watch intently for a reaction. Rowan's hands hover uselessly in front of his face, steepled to catch a sneeze that doesn't seem to be coming. His shoulder shake with rapid breaths and his face is pinched in pre-sneeze agony. "Haa-! Hih! Ihhh! Ahh… HIH! Uhh…"

After a moment, the immediate need to sneeze seems to pass with no real result, leaving Rowan itchy and irritated. He brings the heel of his hand up to scrub at the underside of his nose, trying to rid himself of the tickly feeling. He turns watery eyes to Daniel. "Wha-hat's going on?"

"This compound is designed to stop you from sneezing, not remove the urge to do so." Daniel watches Rowan rub his nose, then reaches out with his unoccupied hand to gently take hold of his wrist and pry Rowan's hand away from his face. "It's going to take some… extensive testing to be sure it works to its full capacity."

Rowan lets out a shaky breath and sniffles softly. "How much testing?" His eyes fall down to the tray piled with allergens and he suddenly feels much more apprehensive than earlier.

"I'd like to see how far I can trigger your allergies before your body fights the compound entirely. If it does at all, that is." Daniel doesn't wait for a response before reaching down to set the feather back on the tray. He switches to a small, unlabeled glass container with a spritzer. He unscrews the cap, extends it out to Rowan, and lifts it. "Go ahead and give this a sniff."

Rowan can already smell the strong scent wafting out of the container. It's definitely a perfume. His nose twitches with a renewed tickle without even needing to sniff the substance. But Daniel keeps the container held out to him, so Rowan reluctantly leans forward and gives the pungent fumes a tiny sniff. His eyes glaze over with moisture and his nose twitches again and his breath catches.

Daniel urges the container forward. "Again. I need you to take a deep breath through your nose."

Rowan makes a small noise in his throat, half way between a whimper and a gasp, but he does it again. He sniffs the perfume until he has to pull back to gasp again, his nostrils flaring in instant irritation. His sinuses burn and his breath catches, his chest heaving with the rapid inhalations.

Daniel looks satisfied with that and he replaces the cap back on the top of the container. He considers for a moment, then seems to decide on something. He aims the spritzer directly at Rowan and gives a few sprays. The droplets land everywhere; on Rowan's shirt, on his face, on his lap, on his hands which are once again poised in front of his face ready to catch the sneeze that won't come.

Rowan's eyes widen in distress for a brief moment before they flutter shut again. The scent of perfume surrounds them, invading every inch of Rowan's allergic nose and giving him no reprieve from the overwhelming burning, ticklish sensation. He gasps in shallow, rapid breaths that brig him closer and closer to the relief he so desperately needs. It's being kept just out of his reach, driving him wild with need. His hands begin fanning in front of his face like it'll help him escape the feeling.

"Still working as intended," Daniel notes, his own interest barely masked by scientific detachment. He watches as Rowan struggles against his allergies.

Rowan is stuck like this for several minutes, unable to get a single breath in past his desperate hitching and sniffling. He briefly tries to rub at his nose again, but the scent of the perfume is still stuck to his hands and only causes him to break out into another fit of helpless gasps. Allergic tears well up in his eyes and he doesn't have the control to blink them away.

Wordlessly, Daniel lifts a cut sprig of goldenrod blooms from the tray of allergens. As soon as Rowan's breath has almost returned to a manageable pace, Daniel brings the pollen coated flowers up to his face and rubs them directly against his pink, twitchy nostrils.

Rowan's nose is a sight; bright pink, quivering uncontrollably, reacting to even the slightest stimulation. The pollen sets him off again nearly instantly. There's a light dusting of golden dust coating his flaring nostrils and tears streaming down his cheeks. The way he's desperately sucking in breaths is starting to sound closer and closer to whimpers and moans of distress.

"You're quite a sight like this, you know," Daniel comments. He sets the flowers on the cot next to where Rowan is seated and steps directly in front of him. He can see the way Rowan's nose is running, the way he's only barely managing to contain the mess by sniffling nearly constantly—as often as his frantic breaths will allow.

Daniel lifts his hand up to Rowan's face. He uses his thumb to swipe away a tear that falls down his face, then drags it across his cheek toward his nose. Gently, he presses the pad of his thumb against the twitching tip of Rowan's nose. Rowan only reacts by gasping deeply and then returning to his efforts to mitigate his suffering. Daniel can't help an amused hum. He begins rubbing a small circle on the tip of Rowan's nose, adding pressure to manipulate and squish the flesh under his finger.

"The effects of the compound can only reach so far. If we stimulate your nose enough, you might just be able to get a sneeze out," Daniel says thoughtfully, his eyes laser focused on Rowan's nose. He presses up on Rowan's nose and watches his nostrils flare frantically with every breath. "You'd like some relief, wouldn't you? We'll have to increase the discomfort before you can let it out, obviously, but it'll be worth it."

Rowan can only nod rapidly in response, the movement causing Daniel's thumb to rub and press against his irritated skin. Daniel's lips quirk up and he removes his hand from Rowan's face. He looks down at the tray again and takes a moment to scan his options. While he puts together a plan in his mind, he takes a vial of chinkni in his hand and absently holds it near Rowan's face.

"Here, sniff as much of this as you can," he instructs. He doesn't even have to look to know Rowan is eagerly following his instructions. He can hear the desperate little sniffs and feel the puffs of breath against his hand.

Once he can no longer feel Rowan's breath on his hand and he can hear his test subjects whines rise in pitch, Daniel sets the vial down and reaches for the feather again. He tips another vial on its side and sprinkles a layer of dust over the length of the feather, coating it entirely. He does the same with a pepper shaker, then lifts the feather to inspect it, making sure the entire thing is coated in the substances.

Daniel's eyes flick over to Rowan before he decides to start. Rowan has completely given up on sniffing back the tide of runny mucus in his nose, instead just letting it drip down his upper lip in a steady stream. Allergic tears are flowing non stop from his eyes and he looks like he might break at any moment. Daniel plucks a tissue from the small packet on his tray and uses it to wipe the clear mucus from the underside of Rowan's nose.

"If this doesn't make you sneeze, then I don't know what will." He tosses the tissue into a trash bin in the corner of the room, then brings the feather up to tease Rowan's nose once again.

The light tickling against the outside of his nostrils doesn't seem to do much of anything anymore. Rowan is too lost in the throes of his allergies to notice the light stimulation. Daniel hums shortly and begins inserting the tip of the feather into Rowan's nose. He doesn't stop, slowly pushing until every inch of Rowan's nostril is filled with the tickly plumes of the feather, coated in layers of dust and pepper. Immediately, he uses his fingers to twist the feather in a circle, dragging the instrument against the sensitive inner flesh of Rowan's nose.

Rowan gasps wetly and his nose twitches uncontrollably. The entire appendage seems to be quivering with anticipation of the release. His tears fall in thicker streams and his chest heaves with the frantic, rapid breaths he manages to pull in. Despite all of this, he tilts his head back to allow Daniel better access to his nostrils. He's so desperate to sneeze, he'd let Daniel do anything to him if it meant he could finally get relief.

But still, nothing seems to be happening. He whimpers as the tickle builds and builds, but nothing comes of it. Daniel slowly begins pulling the feather out of Rowan's nostril, the agonizing stimulation causing him to whine in protest. Once the feather is almost completely withdrawn, Daniel shoves it back in as far as it'll go. He repeats the process, quicker now, until he's thrusting the feather in and out of Rowan's desperate, trembling nose. With a quick flick of his wrist, he withdraws it completely, then wastes no time in inserting it fully into Rowan's other nostril to do it all again.

To Rowan's dismay, and to Daniel's enthusiastic interest, Rowan still can't seem to sneeze, no matter how helplessly allergic he gets. Daniel pulls the feather free, watching as a string of mucus connects the tip of it to Rowan's red, twitching nose. With his free hand, he plucks another tissue free and uses it to break the string and pinch the mess away from Rowan's nose.

"Still nothing? This compound is more effective than I thought." Daniel drops the soaking wet feather into the trash bin along with the tissue. He pulls a few more fresh tissues free and guides them into Rowan's hand. "Here, you're going to need these. I have a backup plan."

Rowan's hands tremble as they weakly grip the tissues. He doesn't use them yet, too preoccupied with hitching around several false starts. Daniel watches him for a moment; takes in the sight of his nose, which is bright red, irritated, and wriggling with a mind of its own. Rowan looks like the picture of allergic misery.

After allowing himself to indulge for a moment, he turns to pick up an unlabeled container resembling a sinus spray. He steps closer to Rowan. "This should completely counteract the effects of the compound. You need to be ready, because the effects will be nearly instantaneous. Are you ready?"

Rowan gives a small nod and Daniel nods as well. He lifts the nozzle of the small container to Rowan's nostril and presses it inside. The cold plastic makes Rowan's nostril flare.

"Get your tissues ready. As soon as I spray this, you'll need them." Daniel waits for Rowan to lift his hands, still clutching the tissues, then sprays a mist of the liquid directly into Rowan's nostril. He quickly pulls it away and steps back to allow Rowan a bit of space.

Rowan's face scrunches up at the feeling of a foreign liquid in his nose, but that only lasts for a moment. His sinuses are instantly filled with the tickle that has been building up this entire time. He clumsily lifts the tissues to his face but he doesn't even get them there before he's exploding into a wet, desperate sneeze.

"Haa'tISHhuhh!! Ha-ahh-! 'tISShhUH!!" The force of the sneezes has him jerking forward into the soft tissues. A shaky whimper of relief bubbles out of him.

"Bless you," Daniel supplies, knowing full well that Rowan is nowhere near done.

"I-ihhHH!! Hiih'tISCHHuh!! Ha'TSCHHh'tISHH'TSCHHuhh!!" Rowan can't drag in a single productive breath. Every inhale sends him into another fit of wildly desperate sneezing. "Hih'tishHh'tiSHhh'tSSCHHH! HaahH'tisHHUUHH! Ih'tSHUH! Hih'tshUH! Haa-ahhHH-!! HahHH'TSHUUh!"

Daniel stands a comfortable few feet away from Rowan and watches him dissolve into a helpless, desperate sneezing fit. After a moment of just watching, he reaches to take a few more tissues. He steps forward and gently takes Rowan's hands, swapping out the wet, used tissues with the dry, clean ones. He guides Rowan's hand back to his face, then disposes of the soiled tissues into the waste bin.

"Bless you," Daniel says again, his voice soft as he watches Rowan's attempts to soothe himself.

Rowan stutters through an attempt to speak, ultimately interrupting himself once again. "ThahhH- hih! Thahh'ank y-yo-ouhhH'tISCHHH! Ihhtshh'tiSHhuh! S-Sorhhuu'tiSHhhUH!" He gives up on it and instead buries his lower face completely into the tissues and gives himself over to the reaction. "IhhH'TIShhuHH! Haa'tshUH! Hihh'TSHhh'TISHHhh'TISCHHhuuhh!"

"Wow. Bless you," Daniel muses, a smile tugging the corners of his lips up. "You're a mess without your antihistamines, aren't you?"

Rowan cracks his eyes open to look at Daniel. He tries to shoot him a glare, but all he succeeds in doing is looking water eyed and miserable. He can't keep them open for long, either, because he starts sneezing again.

"Okay, okay," Daniel relents. He hands Rowan another bunch of fresh tissues, swapping them out for the used ones again and discarding them in the bin. "This has been really valuable information. I almost want to do a longer test to see if I can run the compound through its course. Another time, though."

"And… h-hh… hopefully a… Hihh'tSCHhuhH! Proper warning next time," Rowan requests.

"I can arrange that." Daniel smiles at him again before turning to pack up the cart.

[snzagaba]

am I stupid for desperately needing S/tardew V/alley snzfics?

Is it just me?

[snzpkmntrainer]

Powerful sneezes!

Just came back home from work (actually 3 weeks ago) I was waiting to get a decent amount of sneezes before sharing 😂

[petersnose]

Hey!! if you have some time, would you be up for writing a fic where Bucky accidentally gets Steve sick? Thanks!

Hey anon!! I hope this satisfies you!

You’re Mad at Me, Aren’t You?

Bucky knew he was sick the moment he woke up.

Not in a huh, I feel kinda off way, or even in a maybe I just need more sleep way. No—this was the full-body, bone-deep, miserable kind of sick. His head was stuffy, his nose was running, his throat was raw, and he had the overwhelming urge to sneeze every five seconds.

He groaned and burrowed deeper into the blankets, trying to will away the itch in his sinuses. But it was relentless, tickling at the edge of his awareness, teasing him until—

"Hh—hh’RHHSHHhh! Hhh’TSHHhh! Hhh'KSHHhh!”

The sneezes snapped him forward, and Bucky barely managed to catch them in the tissue he had stuffed under his pillow. He sniffled miserably, rubbing at his nose with the crumpled tissue.

A soft chuckle came from beside him. "Wow. Bless you, doll."

Bucky groaned. "Don't start with me, Stevie."

Steve, annoyingly warm and healthy, propped himself up on one elbow, grinning down at Bucky. "I wasn't gonna say anything."

Bucky shot him a glare from beneath the covers.

Steve smirked. "Except maybe that you insisted you weren’t getting sick."

Bucky sniffled thickly, rolling onto his side with a huff. "Yeah, well. I was wrong."

"Big shock," Steve teased, reaching out to rub slow circles on Bucky’s back.

Bucky sighed at the contact, his body already sinking into the comfort of Steve’s touch. He hated being sick—hated the way his whole body felt weighed down, hated the way his nose wouldn’t stop running, and most of all, hated that Steve was still perfectly fine.

It wasn’t fair.

He had been sneezing his head off for two days. His throat was on fire. His body ached. And Steve?

Steve looked annoyingly healthy.

Bucky scowled and nuzzled further into his pillow. "You're supposed to have a weak immune system."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "That was pre-serum, Buck."

Bucky grumbled something unintelligible and sniffled again, which only seemed to amuse Steve more.

But then, as if to prove Bucky’s point, Steve suddenly froze, breath hitching.

Bucky turned his head just in time to see Steve’s eyelids flutter, his pink-rimmed nostrils twitching slightly before—

"Hehh'RSHHhh! Hhh’TSSHHh’uhh! Hh'NGTCHhuh!"

Bucky blinked.

Steve groaned into his wrist, sniffling thickly.

Bucky smirked. "Oh, now you’re sneezin’."

Steve gave a watery sniff and flopped back onto the pillow beside Bucky. "Shuddup."

Bucky let out a low chuckle, reaching over to press the back of his hand against Steve’s forehead. Sure enough—warm.

"Uh-oh," Bucky muttered, more amused than concerned.

Steve groaned, rubbing his nose against his sleeve. "You’re mad at me, aren’t you?"

Bucky smirked. "Mad? Doll, I told you to stay away. I warned you."

Steve let out a congested sigh, already sounding stuffy. "You needed me."

Bucky snorted. "Yeah, yeah." He reached for the tissue box and plucked one out, pressing it into Steve’s hand. "Here, honey, before you sneeze all over me."

Steve shot him a glare but took the tissue anyway, giving his nose a harsh blow.

Bucky shook his head, reaching out to rub his thumb across Steve’s fever-warm cheek. "You’re down bad, Stevie."

Steve sniffled again, burrowing closer to Bucky’s chest. "M’cold," he mumbled.

Bucky sighed, wrapping his arm around Steve’s shoulders and tugging him in. "That’s ‘cause you’re gettin’ sick, honey."

Steve hummed weakly, his breath hitching again. Bucky barely had time to react before Steve twisted to the side, sneezing harshly into the crumpled tissue.

"Hhh’TSCHhh’uhh! Hh'RSHHhh! Hhh'KTSHHhh!—hh'NGTschh! Hh'TSSHHh!"

Bucky winced in sympathy. "Bless you, doll. Damn."

Steve sniffled, groaning as he flopped dramatically onto his back.

Bucky smirked. "You sure you weren’t making fun of me like, five minutes ago?"

Steve grumbled something unintelligible into the pillow.

Bucky laughed, rolling onto his side so he could drape an arm over Steve’s waist. "Alright, honey. Here’s the deal—I’m gonna get up, make you some tea, and heat up some soup, ‘cause I know you’ll whine about it until I do."

Steve immediately grabbed onto Bucky’s arm, trying to keep him from moving.

Bucky smirked. "Called it."

Steve huffed a small, stuffy sigh. "M’head hurts," he muttered.

Bucky’s teasing expression softened. "I know, honey," he murmured, pressing a kiss to Steve’s temple.

Steve sighed into the touch, his whole body relaxing slightly—until his breath started hitching again.

Bucky reached blindly for the tissue box just as Steve turned his head away.

"Hhh’RSHHhh! Hhh'TSSHHuh! Hhh'NGTCHhh!—hh'TSHHHh'uhh! Hh’KTSHHhh!"

"Jeez, bless you, Stevie," Bucky muttered, pressing another tissue into Steve’s hand.

Steve groaned, pressing the tissue to his nose with a thick sniffle. "This is your fault."

Bucky chuckled, running a soothing hand up and down Steve’s arm. "I told you to stay away."

Steve sniffled and nuzzled into Bucky’s chest. "You were suffering," he murmured, voice thick with congestion.

Bucky smiled, kissing the top of his head. "Yeah, well. Now we both are."

Steve hummed in agreement, already half-asleep.

Bucky sighed, shaking his head fondly. He figured he could tease him about it when they were feeling better.

For now, he just wrapped Steve up in his arms, letting the warmth of their tangled limbs keep them both comfortable as they drifted off into the kind of sleep only the truly sick could manage.

[silentsneezes]

since the brainrot is continuing, here’s a 1.6k sick v/iktor fic !

cw for talking about disability/chronic illness and a brief mention of dizziness

A few fits from Viktor isn’t uncommon, especially in the spring and fall, so Jayce dismisses the first few series of stifles from his partner. He blesses Viktor, as always, but doesn’t give it a second thought. That is, until Viktor has a particularly long fit, nearing 10 rapidly stifled sneezes without a single breath drawn.

“Bless you, mi amor. Is something setting you off?” He inquires, looking over from his desk to see Viktor’s shoulders shudder with another series of stifles, silent this time. If he hadn’t been looking, he wouldn’t have noticed, but the bobbing of his partner’s head and the shaking of his frame are telltale signs, “Bless you again.”

Viktor frowns at having been noticed, muttering a frustrated, “thank you,” without looking up from his work.

“You know, you don’t have to stifle when it’s just us,” he prompts, expecting to receive the same response he always does: either a dismissive wave of the hand, a glare, or– his least favorite– no response at all. Viktor decides on the latter, letting Jayce’s statement hang in the air unacknowledged.

“I don’t mind,” Jayce continues, “it’s…” he pauses, searching for the right word.

“Incessant.” Viktor substitutes, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“I was going to say endearing.” Jayce shrugs as he walks over to Viktor’s workspace, placing a hand on his shoulder. He can’t help but feel a pang of worry as he notices the heat radiating from his partner, “you should take a break.”

“Science does not “take breaks”. Neither does the hexcore,” Viktor rebuts, his accent thick with a congested drawl.

Jayce bites his tongue, holding back from quiping “neither does your nose.” Taunting Viktor would do no good. Instead he gives Viktor’s shoulder a little rub, his thumb traveling over his shoulder blade towards his neck.

“Maybe the hexcore doesn’t,” Jayce agrees, “But you do. You’re human, Viktor, it’s natural to get sick.” He reasons, his voice soft.

“You know it’s different,” he replies bluntly, not bothering to deny his illness.

Viktor’s words hang in the air, the insinuation obvious; Viktor may not get sick super often, but when he does, it tends to linger for weeks, exhausting his body to the point of dysfunction. Having a plethora of chronic illnesses does not mix well with any sort of cold or flu, as proven by Viktor’s record breaking fevers.

“I know,” Jayce murmurs as he continues to rub Viktor’s shoulder, “but that’s all the more reason to rest.”

Viktor closes his notebook, silently admitting defeat. He looks at Jayce with tired eyes, leaning into his partner’s warm touch.

“Let’s go to bed,” Jayce prompts, stepping closer to Viktor, “you need to sleep.”

Viktor can’t help but let out a tired breath as Jayce steps closer, leaning back as if he’s magnetically attracted to the other man. As much as he likes to pretend he doesn’t like physical affection, he’s always indulgent in Jayce’s touch.

Jayce places both hands on Viktor’s shoulders, stepping closer again, their bodies almost pressed against each other as he stands behind the sick man.

Viktor swallows, nodding. He fumbles for his crutch, his hands tightening around its handle as he forces himself into a standing position. Much to his annoyance, his vision clouds with black splotches for a moment, as it always does when he’s feverish. After a few seconds, he manages to shake off the dizziness, turning to face Jayce. His movements are slowed as the fever exhausts his body, only furthering his sour mood.

“Okay,” He agrees, meeting Jayce’s eyes with a tired, hazy gaze.

Jayce smiles, moving to give Viktor’s hand an affectionate squeeze, “good. I’ll grab my things.”

In the time that it takes for Jayce to gather his notebook and a blueprint he’s currently designing – only a few minutes, if that– Viktor has already occupied himself with a new task. Once again, he sits hunched over his desk, his posture downright terrible as he jots down a few equations in his notebook.

“V, you ready?” Jayce prompts, making his way back over to his partner and peeking over his shoulder.

Ignoring Jayce, Viktor starts, “I realized if we-” his breath breaks his thought with a sudden, quiet “hh-” before his shoulders shudder, his head bobbing down with a poorly stifled fit, “hh’hNgSxch! hh’NZxchh’h-hhNSXCh!”

“Bless you, bless you, bless you,” Jayce murmurs, resting a hand on Viktor’s shoulder, “come on genius, you can work on this when you’re feeling better.”

“Just let me-,” Viktor starts, evidently intent on finishing whatever project it is he’s started, but Jayce cuts him off with a swift, “No. We’re going home.”

Viktor looks up, a little surprised at Jayce’s firm tone. His lips purse in a thin line, weighing the pros and cons of resisting Jayce’s caretaking. Whether it’s his fever or exhaustion that breaks through his stubborn determination, Jayce doesn’t know. He’s just grateful to receive a quietly mumbled, “fine.”

“Good,” Jayce murmurs with a little smile, leaning over to kiss the top of Viktor’s head. He waits patiently for Viktor to stand and get his bookbag, placing a hand on Viktor’s waist as they make their way to the lab’s exit.

Viktor pauses as they reach the door, his eyebrows knitting together as the buzzing in his sinuses returns. Raising a hand to his face, he presses two fingers to the base of his nose just in time to stifle, “h’NGSxcH-nKZXxT! hh’NGSXt’eh! nNGxxXt! hh… hhNSXchh!”

“Bless you,” Jayce murmurs for what feels like the hundredth time that day, watching as Viktor fishes in his pocket for a handkerchief and wipes at his twitching nose.

The walk back to Jayce’s room in the academy is rather uneventful. It’s slow moving, more so than usual, and Jayce mentally scolds himself for not realizing Viktor was sick sooner. Typically he would, but he’s been so enveloped in his work today, it was easy to dismiss the frequent fits.

Of course, it’s likely that Viktor would’ve insisted on working even if Jayce had realized sooner, but Jayce still takes the blame. ‘He’s my partner. I should’ve known,’ he admonishes as a mental debate pans out, one side reasoning that Viktor is often reluctant to accept aid, and the other insisting that it’s Jayce’s responsibility to prove to Vitkor that he deserves care.

Even months into their relationship, Jayce struggles with proving to Viktor that his affection is out of love rather than pity. Admittedly, he’s made a few blunders in learning how to navigate helping Viktor with accessibility without diminishing his autonomy; as eager as he is to help his partner, he still finds himself unlearning certain behaviors he has from growing up able-bodied in Piltover.

His mental dispute is interrupted by a quiet “hh-” from Viktor, immediately earning Jayce’s attention. He looks over, watching as Viktor stands in place, his handkerchief held loosely in front of his nose as his breath hitches. Jayce feels his heart swell at the sight; Viktor looks downright miserable, his nostrils flaring in irritation at the itch.

“hh’ng’KZXchh! hh’TKsCHhew-kGNX’SHh!” The sneezes tumble out one after the other, and Viktor only manages to half stifle the first of the explusions, muffling the second two into his handkerchief.

“Salud,” Jayce murmurs as his hand finds its way to Vitkor’s waist again, giving it a gentle squeeze, “we’re almost home.”

Once again, Viktor doesn’t reply, instead wincing as he swallows. ‘Damnit, he’s worse off than I thought’ Jayce thinks, but he puts his mental chastising on hold, prioritizing the task at hand: getting Viktor home.

It doesn’t take much longer for the couple to arrive at Jayce’s place, and he’s quick to unlock the door, allowing Viktor to step inside. Viktor makes a beeline for the bedroom, not bothering to hide his exhaustion– and frankly, not able to hide his exhaustion with his worsening fever.

Jayce follows his partner, ready to make sure he’s as comfortable as he can be. He gives Viktor space as he climbs into bed, knowing not to offer help unless he’s prompted. Still, it pains him to watch Viktor position himself stiffly on the edge of the mattress, using both hands to leverage his bad leg up before shifting to lay back against the headboard.

Jayce busies himself with little tasks, appeasing his million mile per hour mind by getting tissues, a thermometer, cough drops, and all the necessities in battling a cold. He places the items on the nightstand, leaning over to cup a gentle hand over Viktor’s forehead, “Mi dios,” he mutters, feeling a pang of concern at Viktor’s temperature.

Viktor just allows the touch, his eyes drooping shut as he tries to ignore the swelling pain behind his temples. Now that he’s laying in bed, his work left behind in the lab, he allows himself to feel the extent of his sickness. It’s safe to say, the discomfort isn’t pleasant.

“Can I get you anything? Tea? A cold washcloth? A-,” Jayce starts listing, eager to relieve whatever pain he can.

“No,” Viktor answers simply, hooking a slim hand around Jayce’s waist and giving him a weak tug. Jayce submits without hesitation, climbing into bed beside his partner and making sure not to jostle him. Viktor melts against Jayce’s side, his head resting between the crook of Jayce’s elbow and his chest.

“I’ve got you,”Jayce murmurs lovingly, a hand coming up to sift through Jayce’s hair, “Just rest.”

Raspy and barely audible, Viktor mumbles, “What do you think I’m doing?”

Jayce can’t help but smile, chuckling quietly at his partner's sass. Even sick, Viktor is quick to give Jayce attitude, “point taken,” he concedes.

i’m working on the asks i’ve received, as well as a second part to the allergic j/ayce fic, but i figured this fic has sat in my snzdoc for long enough

as always, any comments or tags are much appreciated !! thank you to anyone who read the fic, i hope you enjoyed

[snezus-christ-risen]

Agatha All Along Sneezefic Directory

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Character: Agatha

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[lemoncatissour]

Hoshi is not good at hiding 🫣

💖 The Family Dragon 💖

Characters and comic series, as well as art By LemonCatIsSour

Please do not repost to non sneeze blogs

[annie-sniffles]

compilation of flower sneezes from today 💐

i dont usually sneeze this hard but holy moly dude

[thekinkyleopard]

Hold Still

A BlyFry Snz Fic

⚠️Content Warning⚠️

Force Holding, Snz Fet, Smut, WLW

Description: this fic is based off this prompt!

Author’s Notes: You have been feeeeddddd!!! I don’t CARE if you don’t want the lesbians /i/ want the lesbians 👹 I love them. Anyway, enjoy BlyFry torture. 🥰 @aller-geez owns Freya and did the cover art!

Freya was curled up in the pit of Blythe’s arm, snuggled close as they enjoyed the sound of a gentle rain from their open cottage bedroom window. “It’s so peaceful out here..” the angel sighs with neutrality as her fingers trace up and down her lover’s exposed torso.

“I agree, lover, there’s nothing quite like laying with you next to the sound of mother nature existing as she comes,” Blythe's voice was a low murmur, vibrating against Freya's cheek where she nuzzled in closer. The scent of petrichor hung heavy in the air, a comforting aroma that mingled with the delicate fragrance of Freya's skin. As the rain continued its soft patter against the window, the world outside seemed to fade away until it was just the two of them cocooned in their intimate sanctuary.

Freya's touch was light yet purposeful, her fingers dancing across Blythe's skin with a feather-light nudge that sent shivers down her spine. Every caress was like a promise, a silent vow of love and devotion that spoke louder than any words ever could. Blythe's breath caught in her throat, her heart swelling with an overwhelming sense of adoration for the angel in her arms.

In that moment, nothing else mattered but the sensation of Freya's embrace, the sound of the rain outside, and the unspoken bond that held them together like two perfect puzzle pieces completing the picture. They laid like this for a few moments before there were light sniffles that started from below. “Snddff…H’h..” Freya quickly shook her head, trying to cast away the irritating feeling that began to make itself known within the passages of her sinuses. “iihh..D-Darling….I th-think the wet pollen is…agitating me…” the fallen finally admitted, Blythe looked down at her girlfriend, concerned at first but her inner monster couldn’t help itself. She wrapped her hand along the underside of the Angel’s jaw and forced her gaze upward into her own.

“Do tell me, Angel,” she asks with a heavy seductive tone. Freya gulps loosely. Bly's eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger as she held the woman’s gaze captive, her hand exerting a firm yet gentle pressure on the angel's jaw. The subtle shift in her lover's demeanor did not go unnoticed by Freya, who could feel the heat rising in her cheeks at the intensity of Blythe's stare. “M-My…l-love…?” she questioned softly, barely above a whisper.

The sensation of the wet pollen irritating her sinuses had been momentarily forgotten, replaced by a different kind of ache that pulsed through her veins. Despite the discomfort beginning to build in her nose, there was an undeniable thrill that coursed through Freya at the dominance displayed by the succubi. It awakened a primal part of her being that yearned for submission, for surrendering control to the one who held her heart in their hands. The forbidden feeling.

With a soft whimper, Freya leaned into Blythe's touch, her breath hitching as she felt a wave of arousal wash over her. The rain outside seemed to echo the rhythm of her racing heart. She knew this situation all too well. “What is it my Angel? Do you need to….sneeze?” She asked curiously, but behind that curiosity was a sick sadist that needed to be quenched.

“K-Kinda…” the fallen mumbled with slight hesitance. As often as she was ready to please her insatiable partner due to her affliction…she wasn’t sure she was ready to submit to the game up the succubus’ sleeves.

Blythe's lips curled into a knowing smile at Freya's hesitant admission. The succubus could practically taste the tension that hung in the air, a heady mix of desire and uncertainty. She leaned in closer, her breath ghosting across Freya's sensitive skin as she whispered, "You know what you need to do, my Angel….Let go for me," Her voice was like silk, smooth and seductive, coaxing Freya to surrender to the inevitable urge building within her.

Freya's chest tightened as she felt the first tickle of a sneeze creeping up her sinuses, a sensation that both thrilled and terrified her. The conflicting emotions warred within her, but she couldn’t just let it out that easily. “h-Heh…” she started but then swallowed it back, hard like a gumball down one’s throat. The succubus raised a brow and quickly flipped their positions so that the angel was below her and she hovered over top.

“What is this hesitation? Shall I induce a punishment for disobedience, my love?” Freya blanched at the thought of Blythe's punishment, her mind conjuring up images of spankings and other torments. The succubi’s eyes narrowed in warning, and Freya could feel the heat of Blythe's body against hers. A wave of nervousness washed over her as she realized she had pushed her partner too far.

“You’re still holding them hostage from me hm? Okay…then I suppose there’s no other choice….hold still,” the woman quickly thrusts her lover’s hands up and attaches them to the handcuffs secured to their headboard already. The angel gasps gently her nose stinging and leaking with the need to release but she couldnt possibly fathom what the succubus had in store for her. The sensation of being restrained only intensified the anticipation that gripped Freya's heart. She could feel Bly’s eyes on her, studying her every move, every twitch of her body as she waited for the storm to unleash itself.

As the seconds ticked by, the pressure building in Freya's nose grew more and more unbearable. She could feel the squishiness of her swelling nostrils, the tickle-turned-itch that threatened to consume her entire face in a sudden burst of sneezes. The rain outside seemed to emphasize the echoing beat of her heart, and Freya felt as though her very soul was being exposed and offered up to Blythe's predatory gaze.

The succubus could see the struggle in Freya's yellow eyes, the tension that twisted her features into a mask of both desire and anxiety. And with a cruel, seductive click of her tongue, chuckled at her girlfriend. “You’re so adorable, chained up at my will,” she teased, the woman then quickly pulled a box out from under the bed with a swift movement. Retrieving the hitachi wand from inside. “You’re going to wish you would have just listened, my dove,” she shakes her head solemnly but her eyes glisten with sin.

The fallen's heart pounded in her chest as the succubus approached her with the Hitachi wand, its vibrations pulsating with anticipation. The scent of her arousal filled the air, mingling with the earthy musk of her sweat and the floral notes of the scented candles scattered around the room. The succubus trailed the wand over Freya's nose, sending a shiver down her spine as the gentle hum against her sensitive skin threatened to precipitate her into a sneeze.

Blythe's eyes held a wicked twinkle as she continued to torment her lover, the vibrating massager teasing Freya's nostrils and the inside of her quivering lips. The crisp sheets crinkled beneath them, the only sound in the room other than the storm outside that seemed to mimic the tempest brewing inside Freya's body. “Now now, don’t you dare, you made the commitment to hold them back, remember? So hold them back,” Bly demanded of her lover with a strict, authoritative tone, while Freya let out an exaggerated, tortured whimper.

“B-But…” she started, her breath catching in her throat, wrists tugging at their restraints and her legs spreading further apart to accommodate for her girlfriend sitting between them.

“Aht, Aht, hold them back,” Blythe mocked, her voice darkening like a storm cloud as she wielded the Hitachi wand with a deft touch. Freya's entire body tensed, her skin prickling with awareness as she felt the vibrations from the wand radiate through her, lingering on her nerve endings. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, a wild beat that matched the frenzied rhythm of the rain drops hitting the side of their home.

It was as if the elements themselves were conspiring against her, trapping her in a whirlwind of sensations that threatened to overwhelm her. The betrayed smell of her sweat mingled with the heady scent of her arousal that seemed to bloom like a rose beneath her, sweet and intoxicating. The succubus noticed and took a deep inhale of her surroundings. “Delightful…my sweet Angel’s scent is so intoxicating…” The air felt heavy, as if the very molecules around her had been saturated with desire and anticipation.

She clenched her fists on each side of her body, trying her best to keep the explosions she so desperately needed inside her body as her forehead started to sweat. Bly now tracing her free hand across the exposed thighs of her girlfriend who was only sitting in a thin night gown that had fallen behind her hips in this position. “Your skin is so beautiful..” the demon licked her lips as the tips of her fingers drew patterns up Freya’s inner thighs.

The angel moaned, unable to withdraw the desire building within her quim at the touch of her lover’s hand. It was proving too much, holding back her sneezing, and being touched so intimately. “B-Bly…” she tried to protest as the buzzing continued to echo inside her skull. Her nose felt like it was going to explode, every breath seeming to teeter on the edge of uncontrolled expulsion. She could feel the tightness in her head, the gears of her sinuses grating together in their effort to contain the pressure building inside her. Freya's sinuses strained against the vibrations, her nasal cavities expanding and contracting in response to the intense stimulation. The warmth of her lover's touch against her sensitive skin only added to the mix of lust, further fueling the fire within her. The storm outside seemed to act as a mere background to the frenzied game they played, as lightning bolts of pleasure and need struck her from within, threatening to tear her apart in their intensity.

A single tear escaped her blackened yellow eye, trailing down her cheek as she felt herself losing the battle to hold back her sneeze. Her body shuddered involuntarily, her muscles clenching and unclenching in a futile attempt to delay the inevitable moment of release. The scent of her arousal became more pronounced, mingling with the musk of her sweat and Blythe’s own prominent pheromones. “I must taste you…” the Succubus whispered hungrily keeping her arm in position but sliding down the fallen’s body, she used her free hand to pull Freya’s panties to the side to expose her wet folds, sliding a wicked forked tongue against them. The angel wanted to throw her head back and release everything she’d worked hard to hold back, but she didnt. She whimpered, low and long as the sensation of her girlfriend’s lips closed around her throbbing clit.

It was two fold the trouble, the wet, messy mouth now ravishing her sacred treasure, and the wand electrifying the entirety of her brain through her nostrils. She couldn’t form a single thought. The Hitachi wand continued to vibrate against Freya's nose, its hum a constant reminder of the battle she was waging against the sneezes that threatened to escape. She could feel the pressure building in her sinuses, the walls of her nasal cavities were red and swollen, as if they were being stretched to their limits. Her nostrils flared with each inhale, and small droplets of sweat glistened on her skin as she fought to contain herself. Every breath she took felt like a challenge, a fight against the inevitable release that awaited her.

Blythe cooed and hummed against the sensitive throbbing bud, allowing her tongue to massage the underside before teasing her aching hole. “S-Shoot…” Freya ‘cursed’ as the feeling of release was just hiding around the corner.”P-Please…Bly-Blythe…”she pleaded. “I’ll…b-be…go-good…” she stuttered and swallowed trying to keep her promise and hold fast against the vibrating assaults. Her breathing had become short and sharp, her heart pounding furiously against her fingertips as she gripped the bed sheets tightly. Her eyes were wide with lust, her skin flushed with arousal and sin.

As Blythe continued her assault on Freya's swollen bud, her forked tongue dancing around it with expert precision, Freya's resolve began to waver. The pleasure built like a tidal wave, threatening to crash down upon her and obliterate her fragile control. She could feel the storm brewing within her, the electricity of ecstasy striking her from within, igniting every nerve ending in her body. Her breaths came in ragged gasps, her heart pounding in her chest like a war drum. Her scent thickened, filling the air with the heady aroma of raw, unbridled passion.

The Hitachi wand continued its relentless attack on her nose, driving her closer and closer to the edge with every pulse of electric vibration. Her sinuses strained against the intense sensations that plagued her, both from her head to her delicate parts, she was on the verge of insanity. “I’m gonna….Blythe..I’m gonna…” prepared to release, her orgasm built inside of her groin with a persistence that was now unavoidable. Sensing her girlfriend’s approaching release, the succubus pulled the wand away from Freya’s leaking, swollen and reddened face to force a double sensation.

“OH MY GOD…” the angel threw her head back as her orgasm suddenly started to fold her over with Blythe’s tongue still actively working against her but at the same moment it threw her off one edge, the release of the vibrating wand against her face came free and she found herself thrown over a different edge at the same time. “H’IhhSHHHHiew!! essh’IEW!” she finally sneezed, a cloud of spittle falling over cast the both of them, her body convulsing and twitching under the force of her orgasm, but this didn’t stop the succubus, she wanted more, she would drain every last sinful drop off the ethereal.

“B-Ly…iit’SSHHIEW! eh’TnSHiEW!” the fallen throws her head against the headboard, her hands pulling and tugging at the restraints above her, desperate to touch her lover but denied the access. Freya’s sneezes were like bombs, shaking the very walls of the room and sending a shower of droplets spraying across the intimate scene. Blythe, undeterred by the sudden exhalation of her lover's nasal passages, continued to lavish attention on Freya's sensitive regions, her forked tongue swirling and flicking against the angel's needy clit. Every sneeze felt like a blow to Freya's arousal, yet with each release, she found herself growing more and more flushed and overwhelmed with passion.

The Hitachi wand, now abandoned on the bed, hummed softly in the quiet moments between Freya’s sneezes. Its absence was a cruel reminder of the intensity of the sensation it had unleashed, and the angel knew that it would not be long before the agony and ecstasy of her orgasm returned. Blythe's tongue moved to wrap around her throbbing bud, sucking, teasing and while Freya fought to swallow the attack, it only intensified against her pleasure. “EhH’tshiew!” she collapsed with defeat after she sprayed another plume of wet mess. Blythe wanted to speak, she wanted to interject with something spicy, and quick, but her hunger. It drove her as she devoured her lover’s liquids. She knew there was more. Bringing up her hand she inserted her index and middle fingers, curling and twisting inside her twitching and shuddering lover. “h’Heh..iiKKSCH!!” throwing caution and followed by a high pitched moan as her body rolled into Bly’s motions.

The sight of Blythe's fingers buried deep within her was too much for the innocent to bear. Her body convulsed with each thrust, her heart pounding against her ribcage like a wild beast trapped in a cage. The storm within her raged on, the lightning bolts of pleasure and need striking her from within, tearing her apart in their intensity. She couldn't hold back any longer. “I’m gonna...I’m gonna...” she gasped, her voice cut off and swallowed by the burning static that consumed the passages of her nostrils. Blythe now fully thrusting her hand with a speed and intensity that caused the fallen’s eyes to roll back. “Aa-AH Hi’iHHSHHHhiew!” another convulsive sneeze rattled the room, spraying saliva and droplets of arousal in a chaotic arc across the space around them. Blythe released Freya's clit with a satisfied smirk, her tongue now flavored with the sweet nectar of her lover's arousal. “An absolute dish,” She grabbed Freya's ankles, pulling them apart and exposing the angel's dripping core to the cool air. The sudden constriction of the clitoral hood sent another jolt of pleasure coursing through Freya's body, the intensity of which was matched only by the explosive sneeze that followed.

“Eshh’iiiiewww!!” Freya cried out, her back arching off the bed as she convulsed with the force of the sneeze. Blythe took advantage of the momentary breather, leaning in to lick and taste the droplets that lingered on the angel’s lips.

“Good girl,” she whispered breathlessly, herself tired out from the overconsumption. Blythe lowered her head to Freya's chest, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart, the sweat dampening the fine fabric of her dress. The room was now sweltering, heavy with the scent of sex and the faint, earthy tang of the air that had shaken them both to the core. Her fingers traced gentle circles on Freya's skin, seeking to soothe the fiery tension that still lingered between them while the ethereal caught her breath.

As Freya's breathing began to slow, Blythe couldn't help but admire the exquisite beauty of her lover's face flushed and glistening, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure. It was a sight that made her own heart race and her throat dry with longing.

The coolness of the room against the heat of their bodies was a welcome relief, but it also served as a reminder of the urgency to solve a problem. Lazily, the succubus got out of bed and closed the window, looking back at her flushed and spent partner she smiled, sweetly, the hungry demon inside her satiated for now. “Better, my love?” Freya blinked her tear filled eyes allowing them to clear before turning her head to inhale deeply, feeling a sense of calm and clarity now that the window was closed.

“Much,” she breathed, her voice still slightly hoarse from the exertion. Freya's eyes fluttered shut as she surrendered to the afterglow, her body still humming with pleasure. Blythe, ever attentive, crawled back onto the bed to lie beside her, wrapping her arms around Freya's waist.

She nuzzled her nose into the crook of her lover’s neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of their lovemaking, the mix of their arousal and the lingering traces of musk from the outdoors that had started to dissipate. The room was now filling up with the scent of their passion and the warmth of their bodies, a testament to the depth of their desire.

Blythe traced her fingers along Freya's collarbone, her touch soft and gentle, like the caress of a summer breeze. The angel hummed delightfully, leaning closer into her sadistic lover. “You’re so naughty…” Freya giggled, to which she was met by a dismissive scoff.

“Me? Dont play coy, darling, you’re just as filthy as I,” they giggled together as they spent the rest of the day rolling in between sessions of passion and contentment.

The End

Author’s Notes: another short one for you guys to consume while I try to get my shit together 🫡 I love BlyFry so much idc