So I was decently exposed to a coworker with a cold yesterday and I could use a break, so everybody send me good vibes in hopes I catch a snotty cold. My immune system is usually pretty strong so it might be tough.
Isn't it great when you're mildly sick but sick enough to be excused of any responsibilities? Crossing my fingers.
Okay, this is probably not that interesting but there's few options for who I can talk to about this topic.
Does anyone here have legit, diagnosed contamination OCD but also have the snz fetish/kink? Particularly colds/contagion.
I want to get OCD treatment but I'm not sure if my kink is related to the fear of getting sick? If I admit it to a therapist, will they try to make me not enjoy snz anymore?
In my mind they are related but also separate, like I don't consider sneezing/contagion sexy outside of fantasy? I don't think it's like a person with a cold in public has their d*ck out or anything.
At the same time I also don't want something of theirs inside of me? Kind of like the fact that I didn't consent to that.
Has anyone any experience of dealing this this? I don't want to lose the only thing that makes me org*sm ever.
Edit: Just wanted to say thanks to everyone who wrote something or DM'd. It made me feel a bit better : )
I think I’ve hit the ceiling of messfuckery with this one fellas. I’m ashamed to be writing this.
Giving someone their cold (consensually ofc), but taking the usual method of sneezing in their face to a whole new level.
Just sneezing into their nose. Positioning so their nostrils are flush with each other, connecting to make two long tunnels between their sinuses. Then just, sneezing and having all the mess erupt and shoot right up the other persons nose.
Chapter Summary: Well, the time has come. The dreadful cold that Percival has been suffering is no longer his own. At least Vex'ahlia doesn't seem to mind at all, and her libido seems intact.
N.S.F.W - minors do not interact!
Chapter 13 (mess)
Chapter 13 (low mess)
Features:
Contagion / contagion talk
Shared cold between partners
Spicy scene
Previous Chapters: - First Post to Ch. 1
Notes: The end! Sorry for the delay I had some IRL things to deal with. I hope you enjoyed, it was fun to write. :)
I'm not super into allergies but consider:
A person who is so embarrassed about having terrible allergies that they'd rather lie and say they have a cold.
Like having it backfire and have to rest and pretend to be sick, and then the partner is all worried when they're making no improvement.
Or let's say they're allergic to their partner's pet, but the partner insists they stay at their place so they can take care of them. So they have to stay in that environment all night...
Chapter Summary: P/ercy's fever has broken with the aid of medication. The upturn is encouraging enough for V/ex'ahlia's desire for him to flare up again. However, her lover is still in no condition to indulge her.
N.S.F.W - minors do not interact!
Chapter 12 (mess)
Chapter 12 (low mess)
Features:
-Caretaking
-Female m*sterbtion
-Male m*sterbation
-Contagion mentioned
-Mess (in the mess version) including as lube
Previous Chapters: - First Post to Ch. 1
Notes: SPICE IS BACK. Sorry if that's all you were reading this for, but this was supposed to be a minimal plot fic, then became an "oops all plot" fic. It's very self indulgent.
Chapter Summary: Feverish and miserable, Percy is tended to by Vex and Cassandra, who both express their concern that there's more that's making Percy so ill than just his cold.
N.S.F.W - minors do not interact!
Chapter 11 (mess)
Chapter 11 (low mess)
Features:
-Whump
-Caretaking
-Contagion mentioned
-Mess (in the mess version)
Previous Chapters: - First Post to Ch. 1
Notes: This chapter is another whumpy chapter, but the spice will return in the next chapter
when you're out in public (on the bus or train or something) and decide to sneakily read/listen to snz porn on your phone but end up making yourself horny but obviously can't do anything about it so you just sit there suffering and basically edging yourself by continuing to read/listen hahahahaha fuuuuuuuck
Chapter Summary: A doctor's arrival promises some relief from P/ercy's suffering, but needing a doctor was also telling as to how severe his illness is.
N.S.F.W - minors do not interact!
Chapter 10 (mess)
Chapter 10 (low mess)
Features:
-Whump
-High fever / delirium
-Contagion talk
-Mess (in the mess version)
-Bit of a doctor exam (fantasy genre style)
Previous Chapters: - First Post to Ch. 1
Notes: This chapter, and probably the next chapter will be whumpy, though it will still contain sneezing/mess/contagion all through. There should be two more spicy chapters after, then an epilogue. It's all written, just needs refining/editing.
Ambrose came to help Edwin with his cold, as always. The drawing where he was suffering alone can be found here. And Ambrose's journal entry is below! CW: very NSFW, mention of contagion, discussion of virginity and what counts as sex. Did you think we weren't going to talk about the fact that these are out-of-wedlock gay and trans activities in some vaguely Victorian era? Well so did I, but then inspiration struck.
Edwin and I ought to be credited as great inventors, for we have discovered an innocent sex.
Surely this is intercourse, what I do with Edwin. To rest abed with him. To entwine ourselves so completely that we can hardly tell where one begins and ends. To attend to the comfort of his wretched body by physical means - the only means I have of expressing an unspeakable love. To caress a reddened, flaring, pulsing opening until it becomes productive. To feel his humors enter me and seed something feverish that will grow and blossom in my body and eventually need to be nursed. To hear him moan and cry out in greater and greater complaint and then finally spasm with relief!
And it affects me how intercourse would do! I cannot think - my mind is a white sphere of fire that sits between my loins, not in my head at all. His every snuffling, miserable sound inflames me, calling me to attention. My heart thrums under the exertion of a constantly escalating urgency. I squirm and writhe and press into him as if possessed - for he possesses me, wholly. I press and press until…oh…Oh, how I debauch myself on his account!
Yet I have never felt so wholesome, so clean. Never have I kissed him beyond a tender, lingering peck. Never has he complained that I don't carry what most men carry between their legs. Never has my hand strayed below his waist. That equipment is quite irrelevant to us. We are as virginal as two angels - clothed, touching only cheek to cheek and hand to nose and cradling each other, and yet I find myself in ecstasy again and again. He can't stop sneezing, and I can't stop these flushed explosions of heavenly feelings. I counted at least ten combustions last night for myself, and my dear Edwin found himself wanting fresh trousers more than once. Of course, then he had to get out of bed, and chilled, and took to sneezing again, and the whole affair began anew.
Ought we to be married before we do such things? If so, my conscience has not noticed. Perhaps it's that I feel married to him already. Never has a marriage been more surely consummated than his reliance on me has been. This strange relationship of caretaker and invalid…it is a wedded thing, to be sure.
Even if it weren't…my Edwin needs me. I would not stop nursing him for all the world, and that's the truth.
To be totally honest with you, I have no idea what this is 🤩 I just wanted to write an office AU of my OC’s, Elowyn and Rhovan, where Rhovan is the sickly new (Scottish) hire and Elowyn is fated to show him around the office. I think I want to do a few parts of this and had a few ideas to get their slow burn going, so please enjoy! It’s mostly just a self insert snz fetishist dying at her new hot, sick coworker. more snz and malaise to come!
content warnings: accidental contagion (he doesn’t know how to cover his mouth), <= 5 sneezes in this part, himbos, the hot guy has a gf at first but eventually falls in love with the fmc (its a sneeze slow burn just WAIT till she gets sick)
Elowyn had thanked her lucky stars when she found herself the sole person in the lift at 8:45 AM on Wednesday morning. Normally, the office was teeming with people, and she’d have to wait a few turns just to ride the elevator to the 12th floor of the publishing house building. But today she was graced with an elevator all to herself, her coffee, and her AirPods playing her favourite music.
It was a small reprieve for what would be a long day. She had meetings, client calls, and a new starter to welcome to the team. Daniel, in HR, had hounded her the day before, desperate for someone to help out the new employee who would unfortunately be starting in the height of publishing season.
“Do you mind showing him the ropes on Wednesday?” Daniel, the obnoxiously-chipper HR rep, had asked her. “He’s not exactly in your team, but you’ll be working with him now and again, so we thought it made sense if you showed him around since his manager can’t make it in this week.”
She just had to give him a tour, let him sit in on a couple of meetings, and stick him in front of a few training modules on a laptop on whistleblowing and other corporate crap. Easy peasy. Then she could get back to her regular schedule.
Balancing her coffee cup, she pressed the button for the 12th floor, then closed her eyes as the lift doors slid to a close. That was, until, a hand stuck its way inside.
“Ah!” its owner yelped as the hand was quickly joined by a foot in the doors. “Sorry!”
Elowyn’s eyes shot open.
A man — a tall, huge man — was shoving his way between the doors. They pulled back and he wiggled himself in further.
Elowyn squeezed herself back into the corner. The man in question was giant — probably 6’4 — and he wore a button down shirt that seemed a size too small, for it hugged his muscles far too much. He had caramel skin and loose, curly black hair that flopped in his face in a way that was both unprofessional and tidy at the same time.
He gave her a sheepish, familiar smile, as if he knew her already and was deeply sorry for inconveniencing her summit to the top floor. “You wouldn’t— snf!— happe’d to kndow which floor is IT, do you?”
Elowyn’s nails dug into the papery cardboard sleeve of her coffee as she realised he had an accent. He was Scottish. How was it possible that his accent sounded even hotter with all that congestion?
“Um. Ninth, I think,” she said, eyeing the man up and down. She’d never seen him before in her life. And that voice. It croaked and was hoarse in a way that suggested he was sick, and if the deep reddish hue to his nose was any indication, he definitely was.
“Cheers,” he replied, still smiling, and pressed the button for the eighth floor, then cursed under his breath and quickly pressed nine. “Sorry. Don’t have my glasses on.”
This guy was a mess. He was clearly in a rush, seeing as he was willing to wedge himself into the lift doors, and he looked like he may have just run from the station. He smelled like an odd mix of really nice cologne, cough medicine, and hand sanitiser. It wasn’t difficult to clock a crumpled up white tissue in his hand as he pressed the buttons.
Definitely sick, then.
Not that Elowyn particularly minded. This stranger was attractive, and there were worse scenarios than being in a tiny elevator with a hot, muscley man struggling through a flu that had half of London incapacitated. The lift was so small it could hardly accommodate more than two people, maybe three if you squeezed, so he stood awkwardly facing the mirrored side wall while Elowyn faced the front.
The elevator began to ascend. Elowyn focused on her music during the last (forgone) moments of peace she had while the stranger in front of her knuckled his red nose and fixed his hair in the mirror.
Don’t stare, she had to remind herself. Even if he does have a really attractive nose. Definitely top 10. It had a lovely aquiline bridge to it and a slight slope, and she found it difficult to tear her eyes away as he continued to abuse it.
It was this dedicated attention to the man’s poor nose that gave her ample opportunity to watch it twitch after he rubbed it the front way. Was he really going to…?
Yes, apparently. He was definitely going to sneeze. She pressed her thumb to her phone and subtly lowered the volume of her music while the man’s chest expanded beneath his too-tight shirt. He looked up at the ceiling of the elevator, like he’d done this before, like he’d been doing this all morning, so very clearly trying to stave off a sneeze that had every intention of making itself known.
The elevator sounded off each level. Sixth floor. Seventh floor. Elowyn held her breath as the stranger released his in a staccato of hitches. One, two—
“Hihh…hhyh.. hIhyZSHHchHh-hyIEWw!”
The lift gave a slight jolt as he tucked forward. He lifted his wrist, though not high enough, because Elowyn could see a small cloud of spray mist against the mirrored walls of the elevator. They landed as delicate droplets on the glass. The sneeze was a perfect combination of masculine and feminine: strong and loud enough to almost seem authoritative, yet clipped at the end in a way that signalled a desperation to be quiet, to not make itself known.
“— snFf! Sorry,” he said, looking terribly disheveled and sounding much, much worse than before.
Elowyn fought against the thrill that ran up her spine. She forced herself to offer him an awkwardly polite nod while alarm bells rang in her head. The first: this man was drop-dead contagious, and being in such cramped quarters with him would, unfortunately, guarantee her a cold that she was too busy to cope with. The second: this man was also impossibly attractive and had one of the best sneezes she’d ever heard.
Oblivious to her internal struggle, he kept sniffling and berating his nose with his tissue the rest of their ascent, until they finally arrived at the ninth floor.
He turned and gave her a quick smile on his way out, his eyes watery and glassed over. “Have a— hh!— good dayyihh…HIH—!”
The elevator doors closed before she could watch the sneeze, but she could still hear it on the other side.
“hiEH—aiiESHhHhh’iiEWw! H’AhZz—SHh—hyUEW!”
Her eyes flicked to the delicate sheen of spray on the mirrored wall, imagining what those last two sneezes would have looked like. The man was so obviously full of cold. Had he done a better job covering this time? Or had he sneezed on some poor person walking by, handing out his cold as if it were hors d’œuvres on a platter?
Well, that had been a nice start to her day, at least. A pleasant distraction before she fell into the throes of her job. When she finally arrived to her floor, she set her stuff down at her desk, said hello to a few of her colleagues, and got to work.
It was another hour before she heard that familiar clap of thunder again. This time, the first sneeze was slightly muffled, as if its perpetrator had finally come around to using tissues.
“Hh’ihhySChHHmMFf! I’mb, umb, look’ig for sombe’ode called Elowy’d? She’s supposed.. supposss—hh— sorry—!… hHiYZschHhhHh—iEW!”
A couple of her coworkers looked up to see who was sneezing so loudly, one of them grimacing against the wet, sickly quality of the sneezes. Elowyn felt her cheeks burn with blush.
There was a loud, prolonged nose blow, followed by a weak cough. “Sorry. Elowy’dd’s suppos’d to be showi’gg mbe the ropes today.”
If the sneezing didn’t give it away, the accent certainly did. It was most definitely, undeniably, the sick Scottish guy from the lift.
Elowyn held her fist to her mouth and nearly bit her finger off. Fuck! He was the new starter she promised HR she would help out?
She peeked over her computer. He was standing by the meeting rooms, towering over one of the program managers that also worked on this floor.
“She’s in the back corner, sitting next to some of the software engineers.”
“Ah - snf! - thagks.”
She flicked her eyes back to her screen, clicking open her email with all the desperation of someone who needed to find out who the fuck this guy was. The man’s heavy steps started thumping towards her. What had been his name? Hadn’t Daniel attached his CV to the email? Elowyn tried to find the email from HR, but by the time he arrived, it was too late.
“Oh, I kdnow you!” he said cheerfully. His mouth cracked into a shining grin, exposing pearly white teeth. “You’re the ndice lady fromb the lift. I did’t realise you were showi’gg mbe around today.”
“Me neither…” Elowyn returned a small smile. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier, and I lost the email—“
“Oh, it’s Rhovan Zarros. And you’re Elowy’d?”
“Yes, nice to—“ she held out her hand, but Rhovan stopped her.
“Ah, I’d shake your hand but, um, I’mb a little under the weather.” He laughed and scratched the back of his head. The tissue was still balled in his palm, just like it was an hour ago. It was seemingly a permanent fixture. “If mby sndeezi’g earlier wasn’t obvious enough.”
A little was an understatement. This guy was like a walking pétri dish. In the hour since she’d last seen him, he’d somehow started to look worse.
Elowyn ignored the heat pulsing in her veins. “It’s really no problem. Are you sure you’re feeling well enough to be here?”
“Yeah, yeah! Defiditely.” He sniffled wetly in a way that told her he certainly was not well enough. “I did’t want to mbiss my first day, and all of that. Mby girlfriend gave me a hell of a cold.”
Girlfriend. The proclamation froze every last drop of heat entirely, steadying her thundering heart, killing every last hope of lust and enticing office romance inside of her.
Girlfriend was a death sentence to single, beldam, late 20’s women like Elowyn. It was bad enough that the majority of the men in her publishing workplace were either married or thrice her age. Any time a new hire began, Elowyn allowed herself a small spark of hope that they would be handsome, funny, interesting enough to keep up with her, and single, but so far she’d had no joy. It seemed Rhovan would not be the exception.
Tamping down her disappointment (this man was attractive, after all), Elowyn stood from her chair and closed her laptop. There would be no fun flirtations for her, unfortunately, but at least she’d found out about the Rhovan’s girlfriend earlier rather than later.
Without meaning to, her own demeanour turned even icier than it usually was. “Well, let me give you the tour. I’ve got a meeting in thirty minutes, so we’ll have to be quick. Did you get your laptop from IT already?”
If Rhovan noticed her curt tone, he didn’t show it. He just smiled, nose twitching, and pointed to a cluster of desks further away. “Yup! Though, they said I’d ndeed to download some programbs with you, once it finished updat’ig…”
Ah, right. She had to actually do more than just show him where the coffee and tea was. Why had she agreed to this, again? “That’s fine, I can do that. Just move your stuff over to the desk across from mine so I can help you today.”
“Right away,” Rhovan said, still smiling. He even had dimples. Was this man always just super happy, even when he looked like he might faint from a fever? “You sure ndo one’s sitti’g here?”
Elowyn picked up her keycard lanyard from her desk. It was a shame he had a girlfriend, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the show. “Not today. I’ll wait for you by the stairs — meet me there when you’re ready.”
Chapter Summary: Reality sets in for P/ercy that he's sicker than he thought. With his fever rising and delirium setting in, should he be more worried about himself or for V/ex?
N.S.F.W - minors do not interact!
Chapter 9 (mess)
Chapter 9 (low mess)
Features:
-Whump
-High fever / delirium
-Contagion talk
-Mess (in the mess version)
-Tiny bit of crying
Previous Chapters: - First Post to Ch. 1
Notes: This chapter, and probably the next two chapters will be whumpy, though it will still contain sneezing/mess/contagion all through. There should be two more spicy chapters after, then an epilogue. It's all written, just needs refining/editing.
As of right now, the next chapters should go like this:
10. whump/caretaking/contagion/sneezing/(mess)
11. whump/caretaking/contagion/sneezing/(mess)
12. spicy/caretaking/contagion/sneezing/(mess)
13. spicy/contagion/sneezing/(mess)
+Epilogue
Sorry if it's lacking on the kink front, this has become such a self indulgent fic you guys…
That moment when you're writing fanfic and you're like "This is probably like 5-10% out of character but I reeaally want to make them have the worst cold ever and whine about it like a lot..."
