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Sneeze Fetish Forum

Sudafed and you (F/F)


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Hey y'all! Long time lurker, first time poster here with a fantasy half-rooted in my own life. Feedback welcomed, hope y'all enjoy!


"What are you d-doidg he hih-gtddsch!" is how she greets you as her door swings open, hastily muffled into the clearly well-used tissue already crumpled in her hand.

"Hi, baby," you respond, scanning her from head to toe as you lean down to kiss her temple. She's shivering slightly, clutching her ratty blue bathrobe around herself with one hand as the other wipes gingerly at her nose, which has clearly already taken some abuse for the day. Her curls are a chaos, forming a lopsided halo around her face, on which is perched the giant, adorable pair of glasses she wouldn't be caught dead in in public. You stroke her hair as your lips make contact with her skin, noticing that it's a little warm, a little clammy. "I brought you some stuff," you say in response to her half-sneezed question, dropping your hand from her hair to squeeze her hip and taking step past her, into the apartment. She turns automatically to the side to let you pass, sliding the tissue into the pocket of her robe as you toe off your loafers and shrug off your blazer before heading into the kitchen.

"Sduff?" she repeats blankly, leaning against the doorjamb as you begin to unpack your grocery bag.

"Soup, of course, and Sudafed, and a couple of other things," you tell her as you finish emptying the bag and reach automatically for the kettle, filling it as she sniffles.

"Sudafed..." she repeats, like she's never heard of it, and then coughs. You turn on the flame below the kettle, and then spin away from the stove, moving to rub her back where she still hovers in the doorway as she winces, rubbing at her own chest simultaneously. "Why would you bridg be Sudafed?"

"Seemed like the right call when I got your text that your 'sinuses are completely blocked and/or sneezing nonstop' around 3."

"Oh," seems to be her only response, after a protracted pause to consider this. You slide your hand from where it's been rubbing circles between her shoulder blades to encircle her, and she slumps into you, resting her forehead on your neck.

"Sudafed might not be enough," you tell her as you feel heat radiate from her forehead into your neck, moving your hand back up to her hair and sliding your fingers through the frizz to scratch gently at her scalp. "I think you're running a fever." She grunts into your chest, and as you're about to ask if that's a yes to Tylenol, you feel her nostrils, enflamed and slightly damp, flex against your collarbone, just over the neckline of your blouse.

"h-hih... hih..." she hitches, trying to pull away from you.

"It's okay, baby," you murmur, keeping your hand firmly lodged in her hair.

"B-but... hih..." she shakes her head into you, both trying to free herself and to quash the itch. Her nostrils have flared open by this point, snot beginning to drip onto your skin. "HehGIDDTSCHIHHh! HihGDDTSCHihh!" she stifles into your chest, keeping her head firmly buried against you in an attempt to avoid eye contact. "I'm sorry, babe, that was gross," she mumbles, pressing a little deeper into you in further silent physical apology.

"It's really okay, baby. I promise," you assure her, squeezing her a little tighter as the kettle begins to whistle. "I brought tissues, if you want one," you offer, gesturing to the box you unpacked onto the counter as you let her go to turn the stove off. She nods, opening the box and pulling a tissue out to wipe her chapped, red nose, then picking at it as her tea steeps. She watches carefully, still silently avoiding eye contact, as you stir in honey and lemon, then blow lightly across the mug before handing it to her. "How's that?"

She takes it and sips gingerly, then groans in pleasure, eyes closed. "Oh, god. How do you do that every tibe?" she asks, shaking her head, eyes still closed and the closest you've seen to a smile yet today on her face. She has the indent of a button from your blazer pressed into her forehead, and somehow the sight of it is making your heart swell enough to leave you a little breathless.

"It's a gift," you tell her, snapping back into the moment and sticking your tongue out teasingly just before the silence has stretched too long. You smile at her, thinking of the long years of "just friendship" during which you, who don't drink coffee or tea, perfected how she takes both drinks before realizing that was the kind of thing that meant you were in love with her. The relationship is new enough that you're a little nervous about showing up to her apartment, especially in a vulnerable moment, without being explicitly invited; still feeling each other out in this new romantic context, but through the growing pains the love is steady and constant and familiar, broken in through years of friendship. "So, Sudafed? And maybe Tylenol? And then if you want, we can have soup on the couch and watch something? Or I can leave you to rest."

"Doe, stay," your fiercely independent girl says quickly, eyebrows flying up her face and making her eyes look owlish behind those rarely seen glasses. She sniffles, as if the eyebrow movement triggered something in the underlying sinuses, and sets the mug down on the counter, stepping forward to wind her arms around your waist and tuck her face back into your collarbone. "I bead, you cad stay, if you wadt. For all that stuff you said. Or you cad go if you deed to. Just... id a bidute," she mumbles into your chest, squeezing you a little tighter as she turns her head to cough into the neck of her robe, attempting to shield you.

"Anything you want," you murmur back, kissing her hair as your arms wrap around her slight, shivering frame and her nose begins to run again.


Hours later, you're on the couch with the lights dimmed, a movie you've both seen a dozen times playing quietly in the background and half-empty soup bowls and mugs discarded on the coffee table. "I dod't - sniff - thidk I said thadk you for beidg here," she says from atop your hip, where she's wedged herself on her side, body between your legs and one arm wrapped around one of your thighs like a teddy bear, a tissue wedged between you and the couch cushion next to her hand. She sniffles again, rubbing her nose on your hip bone. The Sudafed has kicked in, leaving her able to breathe, finally, but only in exchange for a nose that runs incessantly, triggering the irrepressible sneezing fits she texted you about hours ago, distracting you from your meetings until you could slip out of the office slightly early before making a beeline to the her neighborhood grocery store for supplies and then to her apartment.

"Yeah, I think I got that from the two texts where you said you didn't need anything and told me not to come over because I have to get up early tomorrow for work," you tease, rubbing her back fondly. She's hot now, having long discarded her robe in favor of a thin T-shirt and cutoff flannel pajama shorts, and the shirt is slightly damp with sweat after hours of refusing to extricate herself from your lap despite feeling overheated.

"Well, I dided't deed adythidg," she insists, removing her arm from its vicelike grip on your thigh to rub sleepily at her nose with the heel of her hand, like a kid.

"No?" you ask, rooting under your leg to fing her tissue as her breathing starts to go staccato.

"D-doe..." she hitches stubbornly, moving her hand from rubbing under her nose to pinching it roughly.

"Baby, don't stifle. Your poor sinuses are dealing with enough already," you tell her, prying at her wrist gently with one hand while the other continues to search for the tissue.

"But it's... hih... godda be b-bessy," she stutters out, nostrils flaring wide enough you can see how red and wet they are just as you finally find the tissue and hold it out. Her eyes are lidded, head slightly tilted back and mouth open by this point, and she flings her nose into it, hand coming to rest over yours and hold the used tissue more securely to her torturous nose. "ihGTTSCH! HeGTTSCHHIHh! Hih...ihGDTTSCHUHh!" she explodes into both of your hands. Already thoroughly used, the tissue rapidly loses its integrity, letting cold spray blast into your palm. "I'b so sorry," she muffles into your stomach, pushing slightly further in in a mix of shame and wiping her nose discreetly against you before taking control of the tissue and sitting up. You sit up with her, grabbing a couple of fresh tissues and handing her one while using the other to try to inconspicuously wipe your palm dry. "Thadks," she says, tossing the used tissue into her soup bowl and folding the new one over her nose, then blowing loudly.

"It's okay, really," you promise, leaning forward to kiss her temple again as she blows. She casts the new tissue down on the table and then slumps into your shoulder, boneless, and closes her eyes. You slide a hand onto her knee, drawing aimless patterns onto her sweaty skin. "Hey, baby?" you ask, looking at her, more beautiful than anything you've ever seen there in the blue light of the television with her hair a mess, dark circles under her eyes, nose chapped and cherry red with her entire weight sagging into you.

"Hmm?" she murmurs absently, reaching for her tissue from the coffee table as her nostrils begin, once again, to tremble.

"Even though you didn't need me, I'm glad you're letting me be here."

"Glad to be - sniff! - sdeezed od?" she asks, rolling her eyes as her breath starts to get uneven.

"As many times as you need," you assure her, moving your hand from her knee to wrap around her shoulders and squeezing gently.

"Could be - hihh - could be a lot," she warns, and then stifles two sneezes into her new tissue, now also rapidly approaching maximum capacity, ducking further into you as she does so. "Babe?"

"Yes, my love."

"I'b glad you're here, too."

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And WHAT a first post! This was amazing. Welcome to the forum and definitely hope you grace us with more writing. :)

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This was adorable. I love the subtle indications that the narrator has a sneeze fetish. I hope you continue, but even if not, great work!

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