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mess fucker stuff Two people with a heavy head cold sharing tissues or a handkerchief. A blowing their nose and it sounds so thick and productive right as B starts to hitch so. A presses the handkerchief that's already a lil damp with their mess to B's nose right in time for B to let out a thick snotty sneeze. You can hear it filling the cloth. Maybe they like the feeling of the other's mess pressed against their own drippy sensitive nose, maybe they don't care. It does make it a lil softer and saves on tissues/handkerchiefs

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character A has been stuck on the couch all afternoon. this is the nastiest cold they’ve ever had, and unfortunately, they get to spend it looking like a sick mess in front of their partner. character B is carding their fingers through A’s disheveled hair when the sound of stuttering, wheezy, sharp inhales catches their attention.

a sopping wet sneeze forces its way out of A’s suffering nose. the snot tethers itself to A’s nose and sleeve. based on the gurgling sound alone, the wide eyed flustered panic on A’s face, and the fact that they don’t move a muscle after, B knows it probably made a whole puddle of germs, too much to sniffle and snort back up.

“oh, jesus, that sounded like a mess.” they wince, patting A’s back. “you need a tissue, sweet thing?”

A stays frozen, but quickly accepts the offer, holding out their free hand expecting the whole box. “fugck.. sdnffffk! i ndeed tissues. plural.”

[snxxt]

The incessant buzzing in their nose grew more and more noticeable. A tickle and a growing redness that radiated from the center of their face.

With quivering lips and scrunched eyes, a groan is let out.

Clear liquid trickled down their philtrum, aggravating the already trembling nostrils. They flared widely, gearing up to let out a sneeze.

Those hands did everything they could to try and quell the unbearable itch.

They began with assigning a finger to the underside of the nose, swiping back and forth with no success. Then knuckles were placed on the outside of the nostril, kneading rapidly - the nose clicked with each rub in disagreement. In a hurry, both hands raised to scrub up and down furiously as the need to sneeze grew stronger. Snot lined nostrils squelched, warning of incoming cleanup.

"hhhih...."

In a last ditch effort, the nose was clamped tightly between thumb and index finger. Red nostrils pushed against damp fingers.

"hih-Eistchh.."

Hands were showered in a spray of spit. Lowering, a rope of snot clung to the fingers. Eyes drooped down in disgust at the mess the nose made. Thin, clear liquid now more opaque and thick fell over the quivering upper lip as a sharp breath was taken.

"hIH"

"hEEItschHH"

They didn't reach the nose in time. Stalactites hung from each nostril as the mouth let out a congested "ugghh".

Glossy eyes surveyed the room to realise they were out of tissues...

"hhhihHh..."

[snxxt]

someone coming down with a cold in the nose. it's tickly and runny and prickly and blocked and they just can't stop sneezing.

not going to work is simply out of the question, and they must attend to all their duties. they do them dripping into a handkerchief or a series of tissues, with big wet sniffs and a lot of sneezes.

a cold in the nose develops into a cold in the head. their head is fuzzy and they can't quite think clearly. their ears are blocked, and their voice becomes deeper, hoarse and husky. their mouth hangs open, and their still-constant sneezes turn from explosions of spray into expulsions of persistent, gluey snot.

the cold in the head develops into a cold in the head and chest, and a thick, productive cough that rattles their chest and leaves them feeling battered, like their lungs are lined with frost and filling with snot. the sinus infection that had been brewing kicks in full force; the mess is endless and miserable. they are breathing completely through their mouth, but snot bubbles form in their hypersensitive, deep red nostrils and slide down their red philtrum to their panting, open mouth. still, they are dragging themselves to work.

the cold in the head and chest develops into a cold in their entire body. they're exhausted and achy and shivery. their sneezes have endless thick snot but are also exploding in clouds of spray again. their fever-glassy eyes try to close, but they force them back open. they just want to lie down and go to sleep, and it's getting more tempting by the minute.

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The Experiment, part II

Thank you to everyone to read part 1 of the experiment and wanted more! You are all perverts!! Here's part two: extreme mess, contagion, and NSFW ahead. Some sneeze spellings stolen from the great @sickromancer.

That night, Alex tried to recover from his humiliation in the hotel room they’d provided him. He didn’t feel sick yet—it would probably take a few days, the scientists, had told him, although Casey had been so sick that he himself wondered if it wouldn’t be sooner. 

God, Casey. His sneezes, his voice, so redolent with congestion and infection. The way he hadn’t been able to control his messy, explosive outbursts. Alex squirmed in his bed, feeling his cock twitch. It was difficult to sleep, thinking about Casey and his cold. 

There was a knock on the door and Alex, bleary-eyed, got up to answer it. He looked through the peep hole first and saw Casey himself standing on the other side: eyes tired and bloodshot, lips parted to breathe. Alex’s heart sped. He opened the door. 

“Um, hi?” Alex was remembering once again that he’d come in his pants in front of this man, this sick man who did not have a sneezing fetish. 

“Hey,” Casey said, and muffled a cough into his fist. He looked, if it were possible, sicker than before. His nose was swollen and shiny with wetness, the underside of his nostrils and his philtrum chapped and raw. His face was puffy with congestion and his breaths were audible. There was a hanky half-hanging out of his pants pocket. He smiled. “Do you mide if I cobe id? Snnnrrrfff.” 

“Oh—of course, of course.” Alex stepped back through the doorway.  They went into the room where, Alex realized with a blush, it was clear he’d been asleep. 

“I’b so sorry to bother you right dow,” Casey said, trailing off with a stuttering cough. “But do you thidk I could sit dowd?” 

“Of course!” Alex said. They sat down, one on each of the room’s two queen sized-beds. 

“I kdow you were ebbarrassed today,” Casey said with a slight smile, “but you—“ he broke off as his breath hitched. “But you—ehh—ohh—heh-schhhnttt.” He buried a wet, soaking sneeze into the hanky he’d hurried to pull from his pocket. “Excuse be. That’s beed happedidg a lot,” he added ruefully with a bigger smile. “I dever seeb to kdow whed they’re cobidg.” He gave a long, noisy nose blow into the hanky, which already looked drenched. He looked up, eyes hazy with cold. “What was I sayig?”  

Alex was already beginning to wish he’d pulled a pillow onto his lap. “That I—um—that I shouldn’t have been embarrassed?”

“Huh, yeah. Snnnnnsrrrrffff.” Casey’s sniffle was long and crackling and deep, reflecting sinuses clogged to the hilt with thick mess. “I said that colds dod’t get be goidg, and that’s true, but, ubb, I ab gay, add seeidg you so turned od defiditely bade be a little bit hot. Cough cough cough.” 

Alex was surely blushing horribly. “Oh,” he squeaked. “I guess I’m glad that I didn’t make you uncomfortable. I mean, I know you signed up for the experiment, but still, you don’t feel very good, that’s clear, and to see me, um, well, enjoying it—” His face was beet red. 

“Snrrgggh. Let’s be clear, Alex. You edjoyidg it was the—ehh—was the—ehh-SCHIEW! Snnff. The best part of it.” 

“Ha!” Alex blurted out. His pulse was thumping in his ears. “Well, I did. I guess that’s why they picked me for the experiment, huh.” 

“Cough-cough, cough-cough-cough.” Casey half-heartedly covered his mouth with his hanky as he coughed. They both knew it was pointless; he’d openly sneezed all over Alex six hours ago, which was the objective of this experiment anyway. Alex was supposed to get sick. “Alex let be bake this clear,” he said. Those coughs were starting to sound thicker, chestier, crunchy and wet with congestion. “This whole experiedce, while, umb, pretty udcobfortable, has beed weirdly, umb, snrrrff, hot? I dod’t kdow, mad.” He shrugged with a sheepish smile. God, his nose was red, and there was a gleaming puddle underneath it growing larger, like it was running onto his upper lip without him even realizing it. “Ad also, this is hot for you, and like, it bight be a dice distractiod for be… Would you wadt to—ad you cad say—eh—-ehhhhh—youcadsaydo——HETSCHOOGHHH.” He gave a tremendous, torrential sneeze into the hopelessly ruined hanky, a sneeze that left a waterfall of opaque, infected snot trailing from his nose and mouth. It was disgusting. He tried in vain to sniffle it back up, leaving strands of mucus trembling over his mouth and nose. 

Alex surged forward and kissed him. It tasted like salt, a distinctly messy kiss, but he didn’t care. As Casey relaxed into the kiss, he gave a little huff of breath that pushed more mucus out of his nose and onto Alex. Casey huffed and pulled away. “Oh god,” he moaned, wiping his face with the back of his hand, “that’s disgustidg. I’b so—I’b—ehh—HSSSSHOO! Cough-cough, I’b so sorry!” Despite his swagger of moments before, Casey seemed truly abashed. The tips of his ears were red and he couldn’t quite meet Alex’s eyes. His face was misted with spray, and his eyes had the glaze of a light fever. He was the most arousing thing Alex had ever seen. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Alex soothed. “Let me get you some tissues, you’re a wreck.” He went to the bedside table, his cock already throbbing, to grab the whole box of tissues. He wouldn’t put Casey through what had happened in the experiment today. “Blow,” he said, pushing a fistful of tissues intoCasey’s germy hand.  

“Cough-cough, thadk you,” Casey croaked, and covered his soaking, snot-smeared face with tissues. His blow was horrendous: thick and gurgly, choked with seemingly unending mucus. The disruption to his sinuses made him cough. When he pulled the tissues away from his face, they were visibly wet and unusable. Sheepishly, he threw them into the waste basket and reached for another handful. Oh. He wasn’t done. 

In the end, Casey blew his nose into four bouquets of tissues, each blow wetter and looser than the last. 

“You poor thing,” Alex said, mesmerized. “You’re so sick.” 

Casey gave a long, crackly sniffle. Snnnnsgggrffff. “I really ab,” he said, half pitiful, half smiling. 

“Are you sure you want to—”

Now he was really smiling, albeit through a cough. “Cobe od, Alex,” he rasped. “Dod’t you—ehh—dod’t you wadt—oh god—uhhh-uuuuhhhhh—ACHOO! Snnnnrrfff. Dod’t you wadt to bake be feel better?”  

Alex stared at him, hardly able to breathe. Then he thought, this situation is already strange enough. He might as well make the most of his wildest fantasy coming true. “God, yes,” he croaked. “Get on the bed, okay?” 

Casey clearly felt a bit better after blowing his nose, because he didn’t sneeze or cough, just said, “Okay. Cad I take off by padts?” 

“Please do.” Alex and Casey both partially disrobed, smiling awkwardly at each other. 

Casey sat on the bed and rubbed his nose, eliciting a wet squeak. With rheumy eyes he surveyed Alex’s flushed cheeks and the bulge in his underwear. “This really—huh, you really get off od this, dod’t you?” 

Alex blushed and squeezed his eyes shut. “At least you’re getting something out of it.” 

Casey laughed, breaking into a cough. “Yeah, six huddred dollars.” 

“Six hundred dollars and a blow job.” Alex climbed onto the bed and straddled Casey’s stretched-out legs. “Look, can you do something for me?” 

“Depeds od whether you deed be to breathe out of by dose, cough-cough,” Casey said. His nose was starting to drip again. 

Alex immediately had a vision of Casey trying to suck his cock without being able to breathe through his nose, choking on Alex’s cock and his snot, but he put this out of his mind. “It, um, doesn’t. I just—I’m going to make you feel good, but I don’t want you to use tissues or hide your sneezes, okay? Just let them come, and I’ll clean you up afterward.” 

Casey gave a glazed but smug smile, and reached down to palm Alex’s crotch. “This really does sobethidg to you, kid, snnnrrrffff,” he said, “okay, you got it.” 

Alex rolled his eyes. “Just lay back and let me do the work.” Casey’s cock was also getting hard, possibly more from Alex’s embarrassment than anything else. It didn’t matter. Alex pulled down his boxers and gave his substantial cock a light stroke with his hand before he applied his mouth. 

A broken croak of a moan came from Casey’s mouth immediately, and then he started to cough, the sound resonating in his chest. His cold was definitely getting worse. 

“Do you want me to stop?” 

“Fuck, cough cough cough, no, cough cough cough, distract be, please.” He reached up distractedly to rub at his nose with the back of his hand, leaving a slick, shiny trail on both his hand and his cheek. 

Alex nodded and went down on Casey’s cock, sucking and licking. Casey kept moaning and coughing, sniffling and, inevitably, hitching. “Dod’t st—dod’t stop—-Htd’gsssshiigh!” He sneezed into his own palms. “I’b fide, please keep goidg, please keep g-heh-heh-heh-Hdfgsssshiigh!” He dropped the second sneeze, even wetter than the last, into his hands again, and cupped them as if to hold onto the thick mucus he’d deposited there. There was also the spray—Alex could feel it on his face and shoulders where he was knelt between Casey’s legs. Each sneeze made Casey’s hips hitch a little bit, pressing his cock roughly and unevenly into Alex’s throat. He loved it. God, Casey’s sneezes sounded horrible—the wet thick sound of a burgeoning sinus infection. Alex rewarded him with a light caress of his balls and a hard suck on the head of his cock, and reached down to adjust his own dick in his underwear. 

Casey moaned, as much as in despair as in pleasure. “You’re disgustidg,” he choked out, “if you get off od this. I’ve dever beed so—-beed so—-god, Alex, I’b godda sdeeze again, I’b gonna—uh—ehh—huh—god, do, it’s stuck, cough, cough, snort, snruggffffff.” 

Casey must be able to tell that Alex got off on the humiliation of being watched, because being called disgusting by the most symptomatic and contagious man he’d ever seen had him ready to come. “Can you stop sneezing long enough to come?” Alex taunted, pulling off his cock for a second. 

“I dod’t—fuckidg—probably dot—oh god, it itches, Alex, it hurts, cough cough, heh-Huh-ssshtttoo!” That one had produced a thick webbing of mucus that Casey stared at in his hands. “Ad I cad’t wipe by fuckidg dose—you’re evil, sdrrrrrffff, I’b gonna—oh god, right there, udder the head—Hssht! Hsssshtt! Heh-Shhhht! TSSST! Hattgssshiih!!” He sneezed over and over into his hands until he was splattering mucus in his lap, and meanwhile, at the very same time, his hips were bucking and twitching as Alex sucked him. 

“Blow your nose, if you want,” Alex said, pumping Casey’s now-wet cock with both hands. “You can do that.” 

“With no tish—tishCHOO! Cough cough cough cough cough, fuckkk. Uhh, uhhhh, Alex, that feels so good, snrgggfffff. I’b godda—mmmm, I’b godda—“ 

Alex could feel the pressure in Casey’s balls, the frantic twitching of his hips and his cock. He sucked harder as he felt Casey start to explode from both his groin and his nose. 

“IshTCHOO! HuhCHOO! HuhCHOO! Hattgshhhhoo!” As he sneezed, he came spectacularly down Alex’s throat, an endless double explosion that culminated in Casey flopping back on the bed in a helpless, coughing mess of snot, sweat, and come. His eyes were full of coldish tears and his face was wet with mess from his cheekbones to his neck. His nose was so red and swollen that it looked painful and hot to the touch. And his eyes were closed with bliss.

[snxxt]

This is part 2 to the sweater post. I originally intended to focus more on mess but I got fixated on the build up. so where were we

-

The thick woven fibers between their fingers have become stiff and cold by the third insistent sneeze directed downward into their sweater, barging through with little patience. They’re intense, sounding dizzying, and the restraint of the outbursts leave them panting, shoulders heaving subtly from their tired form. Though hidden, you can hear their poor nose struggling, only doing its job at the mercy of their immune system - snorting, bubbling, and still seemingly unsatisfied.

They blink rapidly, and catch you looking.

At first, their shining eyes widen a little. Then, seeing your gentle expression, their frame slowly loosens.

“I’b…” There’s a brief pause in which they blink a little, their voice thick and hoarse. They push past it. “Sorry, *sddrff* ‘Scuse be,” they mumble breathily, dismissive of their own state.

They turn slightly, still hiding their nose under their sweater collar. It’s difficult to tell, but it looks like they might sneeze again - their brow is beginning to wrinkle, their teary eyes going distant. This time though, they seem to want to gain control over the haunting reflex.

You listen as their breath shakes, thick sniffles sounding between like cracks in a quivering dam. Each one sounds productive, liquid, and itchy, harsh on tender membranes, drowning their nasal passages and the already wet knitted threshold.

After a very bravely endured seven or eight seconds, you hear a desperate, shallow gasp. You glance over to see their brow is crumpled once again, as they curl in on themself with a rather harsh, involuntarily vocal sneeze. What accompanies the tail end of the release is a wet, gurgly splat of mucus dislodging, bursting and spraying into their already damp sweater.

Immediately they start sniffling hard, blinking frantically, and in the midst of it, you hear a soft groan. They realize they’ve done so out loud - and quickly know that you’ve heard it, as your eyes connect again, then theirs quickly avert.

“Sorry,” they whisper and turn away, snuffling ineffectively into a drenched mess of sweater fabric, the collar still pinched over the bridge of their nose.

[snxxt]

Their sweater might be thick, but you can still hear every little thing. The collar pulled up to cover their mouth and nose, their eyes shiny and blinking - the garment isn’t exactly made for that, yet they keep their grip on the fabric, pinching it just above the bridge of their nose.

And their eyes are expressive, shifting, glistening. You hear a thick, marshy sniffle, and a restrained clearing of their throat, bookended by some more quick snuffles. After some quiet breaths in the warm, blanketed air beneath their sweater, they sniffle again, hard and noisily. Their glazed over eyes have stilled. Looking ahead, at nothing in particular.

It’s slow, the resignation, but visibly all-consuming - there’s the crumpling of their brow, and a lengthy inhale that causes their chest to expand, their spine to straighten. A small shake of the head as their eyes shut.

Their shoulders shudder as they fold into their chest with a bursting, ticklish sneeze, their brow pinching with its necessity. Not daring to lower their sweater collar, they snuffle thickly, once, twice, threeee times, and sigh breathily. In the huff is a sound of dread that can only accompany such soupy sniffles - they know it’s going to happen again.

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my new hyperfixation is the pi/tt, where an entire season is set over the course of one day, and just IMAGINE if a character came in sick to work and we got fifteen episodes of that.

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you know when noses are like... visibly stuffed up? swollen and red, constantly twitching with wet, unproductive sniffles. nostrils flaring at the incessant, looming threat of a sneeze. noses that are just absolutely filled to the brim with cold, to the point where it looks like it aches.

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favourite pre-sneeze eyebrow movement (and possible emotion/s implied by them) GO!

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Inevitable (male sneezing, contagion)

Just wanted to write something super self-indulgent with minimal plot.

CW: This fic includes detailed contagion! It’s gross and I spare no details — we’re talking snot strings and things of that nature. If you’re not into that, absolutely do NOT begin reading this or you’ll have a very unpleasant time. If you do, however, like contagion and messy sneezes, I hope you enjoy this 😊

Part one is just set up, but I plan to continue it with Evan spreading his germs everywhere (unintentionally).

This story is now complete! Here are the links to all parts:

Part two Part Three Part Four

*** 

Part One

It’s a sneeze — a single sneeze. A simple bodily function. There’s nothing intrinsically bad about a sneeze.

These words run through Evan’s mind as he picks at his cuticle while his eyes dart to the man across from him. The elevator’s been stuck for several minutes already and there’s an unease settling in Evan’s stomach as he looks at this man. They’d walked on together, smiling awkwardly the way two strangers tend to do. Then the man had immediately snapped forward in an uncovered sneeze. 

It’s probably allergies.

This is a rational thought to have, Evan thought. It is March. There’s definitely pollen in March. But then the elevator got stuck and the man started letting out chest rattling coughs. 

So he’s definitely sick. But maybe he’s not contagious? It could just be a lingering illness — one of those that hang on for weeks but are no longer as easily transmissible to other people. 

“I’m sor — heh — sorry — HHHH! I woke up with an awful c—hh heh! — cuuhhhh hh —  cold. HH hh hhhhh HH! I’ve been sneezing all  — heeh hehhhh — day,” the man says in a trembling voice before reaching up to rub his reddened, swollen nose. It makes a horribly audible squelching sound.

Evan reaches for strength somewhere deep within to will himself not to wince as he stares at the man. Evan has seen him around the college before, and is pretty sure he’s an instructor, though he doesn’t know the subject he teaches. He has dark skin, looks to be in his early-mid thirties and most notably — he’s tall; Evan would estimate him to be somewhere around 6’5. He has a nice build — muscles visible through his tight long sleeved shirt. His silver eyebrow piercing glints under the elevator’s dim lights. On any other day, Evan would find him to be attractive — exceptionally so. It’s clear, however, that Evan is not seeing this man at his best. 

“Oh, uh, it’s okay,” Evan says, sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He would rather this guy didn’t talk — that he didn’t do anything that could result in more droplets entering the air they’re sharing. Can talking spread droplets? He imagines they probably can.

“I thought it was allergies yesterday, but I woke up today and I —” He breaks off coughing, holding a fist out weakly. Evan can hear the phlegm rattling around in the man’s chest, and again he has to suppress a wince.

“Sounds rough,” Evan says, giving a strained smile as he taps his fingers against his thigh. This elevator usually only stays stuck for a few minutes. He can last a few minutes without catching something off this man, surely. Maybe the germs from that first uncovered sneeze won't take.

“I probably shouldn’t have come in today,” the man says, shooting Evan a smile that would probably be charming if it weren’t for how tired it looks. “But I didn’t realize how bad this bug was going to be. I don’t think I’ve ever sneezed so much in my life,” he says, sniffling thickly. “And my nose is running non-stop. It’s a faucet. I’m not exaggerating —I’ve gone through an entire box of tissues already.��

With these words, Evan finds himself suddenly regretting his choice to go back to school for a second Bachelor’s. Yes, his creative writing degree has been practically useless for the six years he’s had it, and yes, he does want to pursue psychology and therefore needs to continue his education. But, right now, that all seems unimportant as he looks at the sniffling man, whose breaths are beginning to hitch again.

Maybe the sneezes are stuck? Like this damn elevator. Please, please, please stay stuck until I can get off this thing, he thinks to himself while digging his nails into his palm. 

“I hate this elevator,” the man says, giving a nervous chuckle. Evan suppresses a groan as he realizes this man is clearly one of those people who are incapable of sitting —or in this case standing — in silence.  “Breaks down almost every day. I don’t even know why I risk taking it, anymore,” he says, giving another thick, slurpy sniffle. By the way the man scrunches his nose and closes his eyes, Evan suspects the sniffle produced a particularly intense tickle.

“Yeah, I get stuck on it probably once a week,” Evan says, giving another strained smile. 

“You’d think someone would do something about — heehhh —” The man trails off, his eyelids fluttering.

Evan can see the man’s glistening nostrils begin to flare. 

“Do you — do you happen to have a ti — hih — tihih — tihiiiihhhissue?” the man asks, his voice shaking.

“A tissue? Sorry, wish I did, but no,” Evan says.

He truly does wish he had a tissue because this man’s going to sneeze. Not only is this man going to sneeze, it’s going to be a messy sneeze. Rarely does Evan know something with such certainty, but this is one of those times. This man’s sniffles aren’t the soft kind that can be taken care of with a soft blow. They’re desperate sniffles — the “holding back an entire tide of mucus” type.

It will be fine as long as this elevator starts up soon. He needs it to start back up soon, then he can walk off and go home and everything will be fine and — 

“HhH—hHRGG’sschhHHHHEEW!!!”

Evan closes his eyes and holds his breath. He slowly opens his eyes, reluctant to see the inevitable aftermath of the absurdly loud and forceful sounding sneeze. Evan’s shoulders relax, though, as he sees the man lower his arm. He’d clearly managed to cover. There’s an obvious wet spot on the man’s sleeve, but still, it was contained. Evan lets himself breathe. That first, uncovered sneeze when they’d walked in must have been a fluke. This man is clearly polite and understands the value of keeping germs to himself.

Evan allows himself to smile sympathetically as he looks at the man and gives a polite “bless you.”

“Thanks,” the man says with another tired smile and thick sniffle. “Like I said — all day. I don’t think I’ve ever been sick like this. It’s just sneeze after sneeze. I’m sure my students must have been tired of blessing me. I can’t wait to just go home and sleep this thing off. If only this elevator would HH’REEHH’TSHOOO! HRR AHHHH-T’SHOOOO!”

Evan remembers seeing something on the news once about the amount of distance a sneeze can travel and how many droplets a single sneeze can potentially contain. It was something like 20 feet and thirty-thousand droplets. While this was distressing information, it hadn’t exactly been believable to Evan. People sneeze all the time.  He sneezes everyday and it certainly doesn’t seem like sneezes can be that powerful. So, he’d frowned at the information, but ultimately moved on, mostly forgetting it. 

This information now, however, crawls along back to the surface of Evan’s mind as the stranger blasts him with sneezes that can only be described as soaking wet. 

They erupted from the man with absolutely no warning and through the harsh lighting of the elevator, Evan can nearly see each and every droplet — some fine, some large and clearly mixed with thick mucus. With only six feet between them — at best — Evan can now believe without any doubt that sneezes can, indeed, contain thirty-thousand droplets. 

And he’s just been hit with two sneezes full of them — entirely unrestrained. 

Evan wants to wipe himself off, but he doesn’t know how. Every exposed part of him has been doused in infectious spray — his neck, his hands, his face…. He decides he can at least wipe off his lips, so he finds a dry spot of his hand before bringing it up to his mouth.

The man’s head is still bent forward, which seems to be a poor decision because his nose is dripping terribly. Evan watches in something of a morbid type of fascination as the droplets hit the elevator floor before the stranger gives a thick sniff and looks back up at Evan.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his expression looking genuinely apologetic, though there’s also something about it that’s decidedly sneezy. His nostrils begin to flare again, but this time he brings a hand up before snapping forward.

“HrrRIIHHHGG’shuuuhhhh! HRR’EHHHTSHOOOO! IhhGT’SHOOOOO! MPFFX’TSHOOOO!”

Evan grimaces as the contents of the man’s nose pour out into the man’s hand in thick, visible strings. To the guy’s credit, he does try to contain it, but the sheer amount makes it impossible. He presses his hand firmly against his nose, but Evan can see moisture seeping through the cracks of his fingers. Evan is certain he's never come close to seeing someone lose control of the contents of their nose in such a dramatic way. Usually adults have a handle on containing the more unpleasant aspects head colds usually bring, but clearly this specific virus is a special case. 

Evan averts his eyes because the situation is gross beyond description, but also, this must be the most mortifying moment of this stranger’s life and he doesn’t need someone staring at him.

Evan feels his own cheeks heat in embarrassment for the man.

Mostly, though, Evan is consumed by apprehension. There’s no possible way he can expect his body to fend off the innumerable germs that are surely trying to invade him right at this moment. Even if it could fight off some of them, there’s far too many to hope he can escape them all.

Evan is surprised to find a sort of peace in accepting this as fact. There’s nothing to be done now. He is coated in germ-infested spray, so he’s going to get sick. In the same way he can’t change how tall he is, he also can’t change this. In a few days time, he’s going to come down with this absolutely monstrous looking cold because it’s as inevitable as the sun rising in the morning.

Part 2

[snxxt]

fellows. sometimes i think about self publishing a book of snz erotica. like putting it on amazon dot com with jeffery bezos. sometimes i think about it

[snxxt]

The phone rings, A rolls over in bed, disturbing the pile of used tissues that's beginning to accumulate around their duvet and pillows, feeling around on their bedside table for their phone.

A's flushed and shiny nose twitches as they search, lingering irritation causing their nostrils to flare ever so slightly.

They let out an experimental sniffle and run the heel of their palm under their nose to wipe away a slow trickle of thin mess, finally grabbing their phone right as the ringing threatens to give them a headache.

"Mmbbh- *Heeght-hrmm!*- Hello?" A asks, their voice hoarse and tattered at the edges, residual mucus from post nasal drip only adding to the roughness in their throat.

"Jesus, you sound like you've got a cold," B says, frowning on the other end of the line.

"Damn- sNrkk!- I didn't even get a chance to sn...E-ehh...HhyYihh'tSschhew!...sndeeze," A replies, pressing a balled up tissue to their drippy nose.

"The voice alone was a dead giveaway, go back to bed," B says, hanging up the phone and leaving A to roll over in bed, plucking another tissue out of the box and rolling their eyes.

"I don't sound that ba-aAhh...AiIhh'tSschuu! Ah-iIhhh'TsSCHEww!...snFf! uch..." A mumbles, dragging the heel of their palm under their nostrils and dozing off, snoring softly with their hand still clutching a tissue.

[snxxt]

the weather wizard is coming down with something. everyone can tell; the sky starts to look a bit cloudy despite the official forecast from the tower being clear skies. it gets cloudier as the day goes on, and eventually a new notice comes in the evening, issued to the kingdom, confirming what they already know-- they aren't feeling very well, it might be a touch of a cold, and the skies will be cloudy with possibly some rain over the next few days, as opposed to the scheduled three days of clear weather and preplanned light rain on thursday. they apologize for the inconvienience.

meanwhile in the tower, the wizard feels weighed down, like their head is full of sand. their throat hurts. the only way to handle getting sick is trying to control the symptoms, so the weather is impacted as little as possible. they get in their pajamas and crawl into bed, sniffling, embarassed; they always try very hard not to get sick, and they aren't sure how this bug slipped through their defences. their partner consoles them; everyone catches a cold sometimes, and people understand that. a lot of viruses have been getting passed around in the kingdom lately, and they've been working harder than normal to keep the normal rainy season weather away. the only thing they can do is get some rest.

but the night is rougher than they expected. it's normal for them to cause a couple rainstorms when they're upset or ill, but they wake up in the middle of the night with their throat hurting badly, shivering, the first sneeze of the cold tickling in their nostrils. when they sneeze, lightning strikes and thunder rumbles, so they try to stifle them; but the reflex at all makes the clouds come in denser. their head aches.

the wizard tries to sleep, but they have to juggle the symptoms and end up sleeping poorly. in the morning no sunlight comes in the window; the whole kingdom is cloudy, and they're in the bathroom taking cold medicine, trying to keep off the rain that seems inevitable. indeed it is; their nose is getting stuffy, and it's getting harder to hold back the sneezes. their partner takes their temperature, and to their suprise they're running a little fever. a stream of hot tea and soup follows them going back to bed with a second blanket, propping their head up on pillows to help keep the incoming congestion at bay. the worse they feel, the worse the weather will be, and so they need to keep themselves as comfortable as possible; unfortunately, the stress of catching a cold and sending unpredictable weather on the whole kingdom already has them upset. they take pride in having good control over the weather, but anyone with eyes can see that whatever is happening in the tower, they're feeling worse than they'd hoped.

about lunchtime, later than usual, another forecast goes out: this cold is worse than they originally anticipated, and there might be some storms coming. they don't know when or how bad. they apologize profusely.

meanwhile, they're starting to stuff up. they keep a tissue box and cold medicine close by. their fever isn't changing, but their throat throbs. they never get sick. they're breathing through their mouth by dinnertime.

"How're you feeling?" asks their partner, setting soup on their nightstand.

"Why dodd you jusd loog oudside," says the wizard miserably.

"I can do that already," their partner says. "I'm asking how you're doing, not how the weather is."

"I-- huuETCHOO!" they sneeze. thunder rumbles; a few drops of rain fall. "Drying do geep the raid frob fallig. Snnxxt."

"That still doesn't answer my question," says their partner.

"I'b sigg," they say, irritated. their voice is sounding a little hoarse. they sneeze again; thunder again in the distance; the clouds are grey and heady with everything they're holding back.

"You should just let it fall," their partner says. "They've been pampered with perfect weather for months. a little unpredictability won't hurt anyone."

the weather lets up a little when they sleep, but unfortunately that's getting harder to do. they can't breathe through their nose anymore, their head and throat both hurt, they have chills from the fever, and they just feel lousy, lousier than they usually do when they get sick. they take more cold medicine at 1am and lay there with purple-ringed eyes, sniffling, feeling themselves get worse.

a little before sunrise, the rain starts falling. they're huddled in blankets with their box of tissues in an armchair in the tower, their feet in hot water, trying to breathe. their voice is a rasp and it hurts to talk, so their partner issues the weather report: this cold is worse than they expected, and they're managing their symptoms as best as they can, but there are going to be some bad and unpredictable storms the next few days, as well as clouds and rain.

and the rain does come. the steam from the hot water unstuffs the wizard slightly, but it restuffs and hour later while they're laying in bed, sneezing and shivering, their face pale and their nose red. they're able to take a nap over lunchtime, and even though they're snoring loudly around the congestion and swelling in the tower, the rain almost goes away; but their sleep is troubled, and when they take back up with the feeling of their sinuses pounding on their face and their tonsils and larynx throbbing, they realize their partner was right: storms are coming.

they start at around dinnertime, when the wizard's fever reaches 101. the clouds darken angrily, and the rain starts to come down hard as the wizard fights the third night of what's turning out to be a massive head cold. they can't sleep, they feel too sick, and so they take pillows and blankets from their bed to the couch in the living room, watching tv and avoiding the weather channels.

the rain comes down beating against the windows that night, but their partner doesn't need to know the weather to know how sick they are. their fever rises to 102 in the early hours of the morning and stays, officially the sickest they've been in years, and they convince them to shuffle back to bed and try to get some more upset sleep. they've started to get a cough, chesty and tight, that causes the wind to stir and rush past their windows.

in the morning, the king sends his well wishes and a doctor their partner requested, who confirms, after taking their temperature, examining their throat and nose, and looking both outside and at the pile of used tissues on the bed that they've caught either a horrible cold or a miserable flu. sleeping medicine and cough syrup is all he can provide other than waiting it out; fluids, rest.

their partner sends out another weather forecast: the wizard is down with something bad, possibly the flu, and it isn't very managable. severe thunderstorms are possible, as well as high winds.

the wizard lays in a feverish daze, their body aching, their head swimming with heaviness, their sinuses pounding. they're propped up staring into the thick drapery around their four poster bed, which has been pulled tight all day-- light makes their head pound harder. whatever bug was ravishing their system, they really DO feel miserable. they take all the medication they can like clockwork every four to six hours, and yet none of it seems to make a dent. they decline any soup for dinner and lay there with a fat blue ice pack pressed to their forehead and sinuses, pressed there by their partner, listening to the storm outside.

the storm outside is as horrible as their cold. their sniffling and sneezing and coughing is constant, and when it stops, they're so ill that the rain keeps coming down just as hard. when they get into a deep, painful hacking fit, the wind outside howls and moans through the kingdom. when they manage to dose off for a bit, exhausted in bed, the thunder seems more distant, and the rain comes down not as hard-- and then they wake up with a thunderous sneeze and it returns again.

in the middle of the night, they're running a fever of 102.4, and their partner runs a warm bath in the clawfoot bathtub in the adjacent bathroom. after some coaxing they manage to get the wizard to undress and sit blearily on the side of the bed, a thick bathrobe wrapped around them, staring into space with half-opened eyes. they slip their feet into slippers and stand slowly, every joint creaking, trudge to the bathtub with their partner and slide in.

"What do you think? Cold or the flu?" their partner asks, after they've been sitting and breathing in the steam for a while.

"...I duddo..." the wizard croaks. lightning flashes in the window as they sneeze again, and thunder rumbles in the dark clouds. "...baybe the flu... snxxxt, guu-huhh..." the wizard looks blearily at the windows with a cough. "...whadd a bess..."

"You can't help it."

"Snnnnxxxtt. Ughhh..." They cough miserably again, and the wind howls. "Baybe dodd," they say. The storm outside is violent and churning, and the change in pressure alone makes their head feel even more like it might burst.

The morning comes with the rain less violent than it was the night before; their fever broke, and they're back in the four poster bed with the curtains pulled tight, asleep in a cocoon of blankets and quilts, tissues stuffed up their flaming nostrils. as much as they want this to be over with, their partner knows this is how they'll stay probably into the next week, and they do-- the storms ease up but the clouds and rainstorms stay for another week, as they battle a sinus infection and a touch of bronchitis.

Please excuse the cloudy skies, the forecast says. I'm still feeling under the weather from whatever knocked me off my feet last week. I appreciate the patience. Sunny skies ahead, hopefully.

[snxxt]

Just something going around... (Contagion cycle)

After a weekend of partying, he drags himself to work. He chalks up being tired to bad sleep. An hour in his throat starts itching. Then the sneezes start. He's not great at keeping them covered, and he sprays the keypad on the copier among other surfaces. He passes on his cold to two people that day, including his coworker who is preparing her big report in a few days.

That day comes, and his coworker gets to the meeting room early to set up. She's taken as many cold meds as she can, and she sucks on a cough drop, trying to quell her tickly cough. Twenty people watch her give a little cough into her elbow every three words and squelch two sneezes into her tented hands during her presentation. The VP shakes her hand afterwards, figuring he'll wash them soon enough.

Four days later, he's running on a treadmill at his neighborhood gym. He's felt off all day. A bead of sweat drips to the corner of his nose, and he inhales it. The burn sets off several sneezes that spray from his open mouth. The marathon runner getting in some extra miles next to him cringes.

Sure enough, she's down for the count a few days later. But it stays above her neck long enough that she keeps training, long runs in the evening. She gets caught in the rain and the next day it's in her chest. She goes to the grocery store to get ingredients for soup. As she pays, a cough wracks through her before she hands the cashier a twenty.

The cashier at the grocery store starts sneezing two days later. They're ignorable at first. But soon she feels like half of her brain is constantly holding back the urge to sneeze. Then, the congestion and snot sets in. She's saving up to move and no one else can come in, and she's scheduled for full shifts the next three days. She spends them in this pattern: scan an item, turn to the side, sneeze helplessly, turn back, scan as much as she can, turn and sneeze again, wipe the slug of snot from her face, apologize (until her voice goes out too). Her eyes are crusted and ringed purple, her lips chapped and constantly half open as she breathes through her mouth, then sniffles in some effort to keep the constant ooze of her nose at bay.

Unsurprisingly, dozens of people catch her cold, sniffling and sneezing a few days later, all of them remembering the suffering cashier...

[snxxt]

someone with a snot laden nose so congested they can’t make more than a squeak with each sniffle. frustrated, they reach for chhinkni in hopes of loosening all their congestion. they portion out a thing of chhinkni onto the back of their hand and lean in for a snort but they’re so clogged up that they barely get enough in for a sneeze. the sneezes they do get blast out all the chhinkni in waves of snot. desperate for relief, they end up sniffing a larger than recommended dosage with the plan of stifling each sneeze so the chhinkni doesn’t get the opportunity to escape. with each sneeze they pinch their nose shut. each sneeze pulsating snot through their sinuses beneath pressed fingers. and with each sneeze they get more desperate to let it out. the more they sneeze the looser their snot gets… mess is now breaking through the presses nostrils onto their fingers, each time their hand lets go their nose remains glued from mess for a few more seconds. now as snot is gushing down their face hands are drenched in mucus they decide their sinuses are adequately loosened and let out one or two loud full force sneezes. for a brief moment they can get a productive blow in and breathe

[snxxt]

obligatory decongesting with inducing.im not getting any sneezes with this cold its just stuck sneeze after stuck sneeze. i get so immediately stuffy whenever i lose a sneeze. figured id help my nose along with some vicks and a qtip