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reblog this if you're an 18+ snzblog?

my reccs and 4u page aren't doing it for me i need more content

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1940s typing pool: dozens of ladies sitting by their desks in their knee-length skirts, their heels, cute blouses and cardigans, hair styled in that lovely wavy fashion of the era, typing away from shorthand notes, nine to five.

Alas, there's an absolutely ghastly, sneezy, messy cold spreading like wildfire among the poor secretaries. In a crowded space like that, soon there will be no nose left unaffected.

Feel free to entertain this image.

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Okay so: a pair of round, soft, heavy, jiggling breasts, each one too big to fit in a hand, easily an H cup, squishy and full and weighty, maybe swollen and puffy and sore from a heavy period, underneath a thin, delicate cashmere sweater, no bra, each one soft and heavy in your hands.

And also the girl in question has a cold that's getting worse: thick, congested breaths through her pretty mouth; a deep, wet cough that makes her tits bounce and jiggle, gurgly sniffles, her nose is bright red and her eyes are hazy with fever. She's in your arms and you're holding her, her face is wet with snot, her eyelashes flutter with the heavy, slow, germ-laden hitch toward a sneeze. You don't let go of her tits, you won't, so she has no choice but to sneeze into your neck. She groans, audibly stuffy, and that leads into a cough.

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Mood Board: Women and Handkerchiefs, 20th Century.

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watching someone scrub at their snotty miserable nose and when they pull their hand away, a string of snot is dangling between their fingers and their nose

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a character hitching & hitching, poised with a tissue at the ready-- but loses the snz.. irritated (& now super stuffed up) they blow their nose, then pull back, sniffling afterwards as reflex. This is of course when the sensation decides to immediately return, & they must scramble to reposition/fold/grab a new tissue in time. (whether or not they fail is up to you~)

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a dismayed groan of, “oh god, it’s everywhere,” that follows a massive, messy, spraying snz

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A Rather Messy Hike (female, allergies, f/f)

Sooooo yeah, I wrote something else…  😅 Because I’m still hormonal-horny… 

CW: mess

She is walking in front of me because the trail is so narrow, so I can’t see her face (but I can see her beautiful, curvy ass in those nice-fitting cargo pants she wears). I have noticed that she’s sniffling more and more frequently, wet, itchy-sounding sniffles that are a tell-tale sign her hayfever is acting up. Now and then she gets her hand up to her face and rubs her nose, making a wet, squishy sound as the liquid moves inside her gorgeous nose. Then she let’s out a quiet, breathless moan before she sniffles again. 

Keep reading

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On Scent and Suffering (snzfic, 18+)

2000+ words of regency-inspired lesbian sex w sneezing from a perfume allergy, light femme domme/butch sub. (i posted this like a month ago but deleted my account. if u read it before w different character names, no u didn’t <3)

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They made an strange pair, perhaps. Tall, lean Claire in her navy-blue uniform, with a perpetual rakish grin; small plump Shreya in her austere black dresses, with a face blank as stone. People remarked, Shreya knew, of the oddness of their friendship. They had been schoolgirls together, childhood friends, but that was not a satisfactory explanation for why Claire – a charming and gallant soldier, a rising star in the Queen’s army – continued to spend such a great deal of time with the cold-eyed ambassador’s daughter, who cared little for any society other than that of her fellow academics at the University.

It was only a matter of time, Shreya knew, before the rumours would hit the mark, and the game would be up. But until then – until then she had her fingers tangled in Claire’s short red-gold curls, and her tongue in Claire’s mouth, and the laces of Claire’s shirt coming undone in her hand. When she squeezes one small firm breast, Claire sighs into her mouth, her forehead resting against Shreya’s own.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” she says. It’s the sort of sappy nonsense Shreya would usually roll her eyes at – but the problem is Claire really does mean it, and Shreya isn’t quite sure what to do with that. She shifts a little in Claire’s lap.

“That would get terribly boring,” she says, “at least after the first few centuries.” She pulls Claire’s shirt down, exposing one pale, freckled breast, and thumbs the rosy nipple until it hardens under her fingers.

“Don’t be such a cynic,” Claire breathes. Her own hands slide longingly over Shreya’s waist, but she makes no move to try to undress her. She knows, by now, that Shreya only gives what she feels inclined to in a particular moment; and that the night is still young.

“I mean it. If nothing else, your legs would fall asleep.”

“You’re h-horrible.” Most people wouldn’t have noticed the faint hitch in Claire’s breath that punctuates the sentence, or the sharp sniff she follows it with. But Shreya is perhaps more attuned to these things than most.

Keep reading

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Mood Board: Women and Handkerchiefs, 20th Century.

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it’s these two OCs again :) this fool really thinks they can fight the hayfever. Everyone knows it never works…

(Do not reblog to non-kink blogs!)

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i’ve been in bed sick for the past few and this cat won’t leave me alone no matter how many times i kick her out or scare her away by sneezing so here is a quick little talkie where i try to hold back but only make a mess

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A father who's really into the whole "playing out being Santa for the kiddos" tradition with his kids comes down with a doozy of a cold right before Christmas.

He still puts on his Santa costume over his thermal underwear and walks around on the roof in the snow, against the suggestion of his spouse, and sneaks into the den to set out the presents and eat a cookie or two in spite of his aching throat.

The next morning, his children appear cross with him, arms folded and stern looks on their faces. Dad tenses up, oh god, the Santa immersion's been broken, the jig is up, he's toast-

"You gave Santa your cold when you delivered our Christmas letters >:(!"

An amused sniffle, "Oh I did, did I?"

"Yes! I came downstairs to get a drink of water and Santa was coughing and sneezing, his sneezes even sounded like yours!"

A relieved sigh followed by an amused chuckle, "I guess I did, but I'm sure Santa could handle working sick for a shift, he's got the rest of the year off after all,"

A flick to the back of his neck by his spouse and a pair of rolled eyes signal our titular Dad to stop talking. Fine by him, his throbbing voicebox needed a break.

The secret lives for another year.

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took my dog on a late night walk and tried to keep my sneezes quiet as i passed through the neighborhood. i might call it a 50% success rate, what do you think?

(if you hear a clicking/sliding noise it’s the retractable leash lol)

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More ridiculously kinky stuff I found while not even looking for it: this photo and these two comments people left under it