"I'm not sick... 'm fine," A mutters in a slightly hoarse voice, followed by a pause.
There's nothing to break the silence that follows, allowing B to perk up their ears and listen to the dense, heavy rattle of A's breathing, their shaky inhales and exhales accompanied by a noise that B can only juxtapose with the image of bubble wrap under a steam roller.
B walks over to A, gently pulling their body closer and kissing their forehead, "No, you're sick... you don't get to act like you don't have a cold just because it decided to settle here-" they press a palm to A's chest, "-and not here," they playfully poke A's nose.
i keep thinking about someone with a heavy head cold, holding a blanket around themselves, leaned into someone's shoulder or chest while they desperately build up. Nostrils quivering, eyes squinted, nose running down to their parted lips.
While their partner has a couple of tissues in hand just below their nose as they patiently wait for the poor thing to sneeze.
they rub their back, give soft encouragement, especially when the poor sweetheart does finally snz after such a long wait. They tell them how full the tissue is getting and how good the sickie is doing as the warm thick mess makes the tissue stack heavy in their hand.
feeling the sickie shudder through their snzs and stuffily ask to blow their nose that's still impossibly overfilled with cold. You can't say no to such a pitiful precious face, can you?
Contagion clinic sickie who's been so stuffed up they can't sleep let alone snz.
They've been up for days barely getting 4 hours of sleep.
So when they come in with dark circles under their eyes and their nose very red and may be very visible congested. Its no surprised that the doctor's treatment it a nice long inducing session.
They start off with massaging their sinuses and the bridge of the patient's nose that crinkles under the physician's touch.
Maybe the doctor tilts their head up to 'get a good look
and yup poor thing is absolutely stuffed tight with that awful cold.
So they get started, applying some sensitivity lotion-that also increases with mess production- Gently rubbing it along their septum and nostrils, then up the base of their nose.
Each movement causes a squishing noise of all that congestion
They give it a few minutes til the patient starts to complain of an awful tingling buzzing in their nose. A nurse then hands the doctor a swap that has lil feather like fronds along it to which the doctor circles along the patient's nostrils and then pushes inside one of them.
Lil gasps and hitches follow suit as the frons sweep and brush along the red, sensitive insides. THeir nostrils flare widely and a congested blunt snz comes, just one.
The doctor keeps going, the snzs come out in singles for a little bit until finally a double happens and you can hear the mess move forwards, you can also see it too.
"good good, we're making progress" The doctor says and then switches nostrils, this side seems to be more sensitive than the other when the doubles come easier. They push the snot right to the edge of their quivering nose with each sneeze until the doctor pushes the tool in deeper and pulls out a very desperate set of four from them. Mess pours down their face. They have strands of it dripping down and between apologies they hitch and snz at the doctor more.
A Poké/mon trainer going to face the grass gym but anticipating their horrendous spring allergies getting triggered, so of course they take their meds… but meds can only do so much against prolonged exposure to superpowered creatures giving it their all with constant barrages of plant and pollen-based moves designed to be potent and do harm. Not even through direct crossfire, the aromas and irritants soon fill the stadium, leaving the poor the trainer hitching and sneezing through their attack commands, to the point where their own Mons can no longer follow, because “Umbreon! hh.. u-use… shaAAD-GHSHHU!!” is not exactly a coherent command
someone who’s been slogging through a nasty head cold when their body decides it’s had enough and wallops them with a migraine. they take their rescue medication but it’s too little, too late; triggered by the pressure in their sinuses and their own lack of food and sleep, they go down hard. their nose plugs tighter. they’re dizzy and everything from their ears to their eyes to their teeth pounds and throbs. their own constant thick sniffling and the start of a phlegmy cough hurt their ears, and their sneezing is pure hell; it tears up their throat, shoots pain through their entire head and neck, and leaves them reeling and disoriented. blowing their chapped, red nose is a pitifully painful affair. their eyes swell and water. they lay in bed in the quiet dark, dosed on half their medicine cabinet between the cold and flu and anti-migraine medications, and even the pillows hurt. they’re too stuffed up for a good sleep, forced to breathe through their chapped lips, and their snoring irritates their head and throat even more. ice packs and heating pads caress their head and body. nothing is helping.
A offering to induce B because they're so stopped up and miserable with a heavy cold. To A's surprise though, when they push B's nose upwards with their thumb, both nostrils are so overwhelmingly full that massive rivulets of the stuff rolls out instantly though sluggishly.
B whines, unintentionally huffing through their nose a bit, causing the mess to bubble and ooze out slightly faster while A can only watch in horror at the realization of what they've just gotten themselves into..
Vox has some fun with Alastor's allergies in the chair.
~
***I haven't written anything snz in 5 years at this point so this got a little too indulgent lol. I will say it's dark and only gets a little fluffy towards the end. So if that kind of dynamic upsets you, you might want to read at your own risk. Otherwise I had fun torturing Alastor even if I did feel bad writing lol.
Alastor was sure that he had thought of everything prior to committing to this deal. Like everything in his life, every tiny detail was carefully crafted according to plan. It didn't matter that he was quite literally tied in a chair or whatever arrogant nonsense Vox spouted; it was truly Alastor in control.
Well, he'd thought of almost everything.
It turned out that not having a free hand to scratch one's nose was probably one the worst punishments in all of Hell. Alastor prided himself on his physical endurance through pain of any kind, but there was something so nagging, so persistent about this affliction.
He knew what was causing this. How could he not? It was only in his nature to scan his every environment for any potential dangers. Rather than a big tough scary demon or what have you lurking in the corner, it was simply a bouquet of flowers sitting at the computer station.
Alastor's sinuses had been buzzing uncomfortably all morning. He knew there were only two cures: vaporizing the flowers into thin air using powers that currently didn't work, or giving into a much needed sneeze to clear himself of the irritant. He'd love to use a tentacle to rub the itch away, but Vox was determined to stay typing away at the computer all damn morning, and surely he'd have a field day at the sight.
Even when he felt his nose threaten to drip, Alastor maintained his composure and smile. Maybe he could get it out that way. He made sure Vox wasn't looking and scrunched his face towards his shoulder to wipe away some of the mess. The rough fabric also helped alleviate some of the itch too. Not all of it, but it was better than nothing.
This worked for a short while before his stubborn nose produced sniffles that thankfully seemed to be covered by the sound of the keyboard. What he really needed was some privacy and a tissue to get it all out of his system.
That was what he usually did. As long as he could help it, he never sneezed in front of others. His ability to hold back was actually rather impressive. His willpower now would have been enough if it weren't for being trapped with the blasted flowers in such a small room all damn morning.
This next sniffle was a mistake, and the itch blossomed deep on one side. Alastor clenched his jaw, held his breath. He could only hold off for a few minutes before snapping into his shoulder, letting out a few silent sneezes.
Unfortunately the movement still made some noise, and Vox looked over curiously.
"Struggling are we? You already know there's no getting out of those restraints. The only reason you should even try is for my own entertainment."
"What a boring life you must have - " Alastor started, his grin faltering at being forced to breathe deeply in order to speak. "Hhh-snf! What a boring life you must have if me sitting here doing nothing is entertaining for you."
Vox raised an eyebrow. Come to think of it, Alastor's nose looked pinker than usual. Oh, entertaining indeed. He smirked. "Oh, but you're quite the spectacle doing nothing. You're finally not running your mouth for once. It's nice to hear my own thoughts."
"Do us both a favor and...keep them in your - " Alastor held his breath. This was getting hard.
"You can hardly seem to finish your sentences, Al. Is something troubling you?"
"N-not at all." Alastor wheezed, his lungs filling involuntarily. Fuck. "Hh-hh-hh'tscxxt!" He gasped, his cheeks reddening.
Vox raised both eyebrows, his features pulling into an evil smile. "Aww, bless you." He mocked. "Was that all what was wrong? You've always been so dramatic about the most basic of things."
"Hh'tschtt! H'scxt!" H'schKT! Hihh... H'chtshh!”
"You wouldn't have to sneeze so many times if you let them out. Come on now. Use that smart little brain of yours." Vox gave Alastor's head a firm little rub.
"I won't be so gracious as to aim away from you with the next one if you don't get your hands off me." Congestion crept into Alastor's threat.
"So you admit there will be more? Well don't keep me waiting." Vox paused. "Go on."
"The point still stands," Alastor sniffled several times against the mess threatening his upper lip. "What a boring life to sit around and watch someone sneeze. Don't you have petty little emails to write?"
"Of course I do, but this is far more fun. You do sound like you could use a tissue though, deer. It's there if you need it." There was a box over on the table. Vox didn't move to grab it. Alastor would have to swallow his pride and ask for them - politely.
"No need." Alastor's eyes fluttered shut against his will. "Hh'eshhtt! Hschtt! Hhe'eshhh!"
"Very well then. I can't help but wonder what's got your nose this morning. It'd be a shame if you were coming down with something. It's no fun if you're already suffering from something else."
Alastor wasn't thinking when he glanced over at the flowers sitting there innocently. Vox took notice, wasting no time to grab the bouquet and study it closely. "What? These?"
"I never said that."
"It really would be a shame if you were allergic to them. They were a gift. It would rude to throw them out." Vox pretended to stare at them longingly. "But I suppose if they're bothering you..."
"Not at all. You and both know that it would take much more than this to bring me down. They really are quite lovely."
"Aren't they? They smell amazing." As if to demonstrate, Vox smelled them before holding them out towards Alastor's face. "Here. Tell me what you think."
“HHh'ESHTSCHh’iew!” Alastor snapped forward in his chair, face looking at the ground. Despite his earlier joke, the thought of sneezing on Vox was actually more humiliating than he could stand.
"Hh’eskkcsshhuu! Hhe'scheww!"
"Aww, you can't handle them?" There was a low purring quality in Vox's voice. To see the great Radio Demon lose control was beyond alluring.
"You must stop putting words in my mouth. I am perfectly fine." Alastor said, voice thick and face streaming.
"I'm glad you feel that way. In fact, do you mind holding onto them for a little bit? I want to find a bigger vase for them." Vox didn't miss the look in Alastor's eyes. "Unless..."
"Unless nothing. Don't you worry. Huhh'ghsshuu!" Alastor blinked wearily. "They're safe with me."
With that, the bouquet was set in Alastor's lap and Vox had left. Alastor knew better than to believe that he was truly left alone. Vox had hidden cameras everywhere.
"Hh'sshhh! Eh'shh!" Little sneezes escaped, his eyes itching like crazy. He wondered what exact flowers were in the arrangement. The lilies were definitely causing the majority of this, but there was such a beautiful variety all contributing in their own fun little ways.
"HH'HHESHHUH! Huh'ghesshhww! H'tashhshuu!"
Alastor's head was swimming, allergic tears pricking at his eyes. Another sneeze came on every time he caught his breath. The mess was everywhere; there was no containing it anymore. Thank God he finally heard the door close and in walk Vox, nothing in hand.
"What do you know. I couldn't find anything in storage." There was almost some sympathy in Vox's expression when he took note of Alastor's face.
"My goodness. No need to cry my darling. I told you I'd come back."
Vox cupped a tender hand around Alastor's flushed cheek, a thumb used to wipe away the tears.
"The great all powerful Alastor brought to his knees by a mere plant. What a mercy." Vox tilted Alastor's chin up, met his watery eyes. "And a delight."
"G-get off," Alastor rasped.
"I don't think you're in any positon to be giving me orders."
"Let go." Alastor kicked his legs desperately, but his face remained firmly held in place. "Huhh'SSHHEWWW!"
Vox jumped back with a yelp. He knew he had no one to blame but himself, but still! "Fuck! That was disgusting, Al! Can't you cover your mouth?" He frantically wiped at his screen.
"No?" Alastor pulled at his restraints. He was red and hot, although he'd be lying if he wasn't the tiniest bit amused. "Tried to warn you."
Vox sighed and grabbed the bouquet, much to Alastor's relief. "Oh yeah. Well, I suppose I should put these back in their water. I want them to be alive for a long time."
With the bouquet away from him, Alastor could breathe a little easier. He so desperately needed the box of tissues that he strategically couldn't reach.
"I could really use something." Alastor said quietly, hoarsely. Vox pretended to not hear him. "Come on. Haven't you had your fun?"
"Hm? You need something?" Came the reply.
Alastor growled.
"You'll have to tell me what you need. I'm not a mind reader."
Alastor took a slow deep breath. "Can you give me the tissues?"
"Tissues what?"
The lightbulbs in the room flickered. "Please." He said through gritted teeth.
"Of course! All you had to do was ask." Vox tossed the box into Alastor's lap.
"You do remember my hands are tied, no?"
"Every second of every day." Vox finally stood, finally grabbed a handful of tissues and held them to Alastor's face. The tissues were drenched almost immediately.
"I can only imagine how humiliating it is for someone else to have to tend to your runny nose." Vox mused.
"I'd say it's worse for you. You're the one actually holding the tissues."
"Yeah but whose snot is it?" Vox tossed the tissues in the trashcan. "You need more?"
Alastor shook his head, rather wore out. He closed his eyes, feeling sniffly but at least the worst was over. He jumped when a cool cloth started wiping down his face.
Alastor shook his head. "Absolutely not. You just got through with poisoning me once today."
"It's not poison, but it will make you sleepy. C'mon."
Alastor took the pink pill being prodded into his mouth and downed the ice water. He watched in bewilderment as Vox actually took the bouquet with him and turned off the lights.
"I have a meeting coming up. I don't need you sneezing every ten seconds interrupting it. I expect that you'll stay right here."
With that, Vox was truly gone, and Alastor nodded off in his chair.
I just need someone whose sinuses never play nice. The sorta person who always has tissue in hand because they’re always stuffy. They snort & sniffle through the day... If they’re not sniffling they’re blowing, if they’re not blowing they’re rubbing their nose!
A poor sneezy soul, where every day, multiple times a day something will set them off sneezing.
Cold? They can’t help it, something about the cold dry air drives their nose crazy. Hot? that pollen will turn their nose all red and itchy until they’re a sneezy mess! Inside? It’s too dusty! Outside? it’s too windy, and oh no, Is someone wearing perfume?!
slightly spicy murdermedia (in an au where segregated bathrooms didn't exist)
Alastor has to go to a fancy radio/industry function even though he's unwell. Vincent has to go too, but they don't go together. Anyway, by now Vincent has picked up on all of Al's little tells that no one else notices and follows him to the bathroom to check on him. He corners Al in a stall while Al's trying to discreetly blow his nose. Al halfheartedly hisses about him being a pervert as Vincent crowds closer.
"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" he murmurs, brushing aside Al's curls that hang across his forehead to press his lips against the warm skin.
"I'm under no obligations to consult with you about my health," grumbles Al, instead of insisting that he's actually fine and that Vincent should get away from him.
"Let me take you home," Vincent says, voice low even though there's no one else in the bathroom. "We can pick up soup from the diner. I'll tuck you into bed. Get out a big stack of the extra soft handkerchiefs. Rub your feet with camphor and cover them with your thickest socks."
It sounds... not unreasonable, but Alastor still find it terribly obscene. Possibly because Vincent is very softly humping Alastor's thigh as he whispers his plans in Alastor's ear.
Instead of kneeing him in the groin for practically molesting him in public, Al agrees to leave the function early so that Vincent can have his caring way with him.
A shy and nerdy botanist with debilitating hay fever working in a greenhouse. Gardening gloves in one pocket, a pollen-coated handkerchief in the other…
Cupping a tissue around their nose as they blow and blow. So much comes out it overflows the tissue into your hand. You pull it away to reach for another, their nose still shining.
"Oh baby you're so sick."
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