A fluey-virus has been sweeping its way through a TV show set. Both production and the actors have been getting knocked down one by one by the worst cold any of them can remember.
It's spread like wildfire as there's very little time between the first tickle at the back of your throat and blasting out wet, spraying sneezes every few minutes.
The wave of sickness has peaked and is now trickling off. Mainly people are just sniffling and tired- the remnants of their cold. But, production is so far behind. They had no choice but to slow down when several of the casts key stars couldn't get a line out without sneezing all over themselves.
They desperately need to move at pace to catch up to their weekly schedule.
Somehow, one of the main stars, Actor A has managed to avoid the lurgey. He's immune, he reckons.
Actor A arrives on set- ready for a jam-packed day ahead. He takes a swig of black coffee and frowns. Shit.
He raises a hand to rub against the back of a throat that hurts like hell.
He can feel his nose beginning to clog up, a heavy fog settling over his brain. It won't be long until his sinuses are clogged full of gunk and he's snapping forward with miserable sneeze after miserable sneeze.
Maybe it won't be so bad for him? Maybe he can make it through?
The director tiredly yells action, voice still croaky and deep bags under his eyes.
Fuck, there's so many people relying on him. They have to catch up or the ep won't hit on time.
So, tickle beginning to work its way through his nostrils, Actor A swallows against a throat like gravel and starts the scene...
their watering, rheumy, red-rimmed eyes have dark purple rings below them. their already large nose has swollen to twice its usual size. viscous yellow slime dribbles from their magenta, twitching, heaving nostrils onto their cracked lips, and their mouth is hanging open, their heaving breaths hot with fever.
After months, I've finally finished it. I hope you guys enjoy!
Snz fic with somewhat of a plot?? Who is she? Okay I lied, there's only one plot point.
CW: Mess, contagion, NSFW!!
Premise: Man with snz k/nk is locked in room and infected, this is day 3 of illness where things are...not great. 2.4k words
You can find previous parts here: Part one. Part two.
Fic under the cut!!
Light seeped through the cracks in his gunky eyes. Nathan tried to open them, instantly moaning as the brightness sent a spasm of pain shooting through his forehead.
“Fuck me.” he groaned miserably, shifting a hand up to press against his aching head.
Then, his nose decided to join in the assault. Despite the fact it was rock solid with the mess that had built up as he slept, a sharp, merciless tickle still crackled down the bridge.
His nose scrunched up, nostrils wide and flared. His chest tightened, sucking in pathetic desperate breaths. Once, twice, before he-
"HEH'tCHHUOO! h'ettSHHuhh! huh-ih-ITCHHH–Oooh!!”
The sneezes, warm and miserably productive, had nowhere to go but straight down his bare chest. Nathan felt his skin prickle under the sensation.
“Ughh, my god.” he muttered to himself, trying to shift himself up to fumble for the tissues.
His last box was growing thin. Just day 2 of this monstrous cold and he’d already almost cleared out almost two entire packs? Was it even normal for the human body to produce this much mess?
He resolved to re-use some of the scrotty, crumpled things laid out across his desk to wipe himself up. They were dry and crusted under his hands, the products of a painfully long evening where he’d tried to blow out just enough so the pressure in his head would let him sleep.
Clutched in his palm, Nathan brought them down to his chest but before he could clean himself up, the desperate sensation returned again-
He sucked in a gasping, frantic breath before blasting down onto the hand holding the already soiled tissues.
“HAA–AESCHUhh!”
Wet snot shimmered back at him. From his hand, from his chest, from the bottom of his chin.
“Jesus fu—uhh–”
“HAA-ETTCHuhh!!” He sneezed again.
“HHUH-IPPttuchh!” And again.
“HUHH- hih'ISHHhoo!!” And again.
They were all somehow wetter than the last, firing out of him one after the other, with little time in between to suck in a shaky breath.
He was a complete and utter state now, nose still buzzing, as what seemed like the whole of his front was covered in mess.
Okay seriously, what the hell had they infected him with?
He cleaned himself up as best he could, feeling his cheeks flame with embarrassment. From the corner of the room, the red light of the camera flickered. Watching his disgusting outbursts. Watching as he used the duvet cover to wipe up the globs glistening across his chest.
Nathan shifted higher in the bed, exhaling heavily. The need to sneeze seemed to have laid off for a while but now his nose was running in a seemingly endless stream. He raised the back of a hand to press up against it, feeling the wet warmth clogging his nose still spill out onto the skin.
His head heart, his chest ached. His eyes were no-doubt blood shot and crusted.
He’d only just gotten up and he already felt shattered.
Nathan’s vision grew bleary, breath snarling as the ticklish sensation reared up in an insatiable wave once more. He knew it was ridiculous, knew it didn’t work like this, but he could almost picture the viral particles multiplying inside his nose, bouncing and scratching against the hairs.
“H–ahh-uHh….! H’APT-Chuhh-uhh!”
This time it was a one and done. But Nathan felt little relief with the moisture dripping down the side of his hand still uselessly pressed to his face.
Usually a finger or hand under his nose would be enough to quell any urge. But this cold disregarded all typical customs. It did whatever the hell it wanted, leaving Nathan a pathetic mess in its wake.
And, fucking hell, now he needed a piss. The thought of getting out of his comfy bed and padding over to the bathroom exhausted him.
“Ughh…snff.” he moaned as he pushed up from the bed. His head swam dangerously, the dark frame of the bathroom door blurring in his vision. Shivering, goose bumps sprouting across his skin, Nathan headed for the toilet.
When he was done, he turned the tap on to wash his hands, rubbing the soap in slow, lethargic circles, sniffling thickly. He looked up…caught a look at himself in the mirror.
Holy shit. He looked awful.
He’d long since abandoned the glasses that rubbed against his inflamed nose so his face was a little blurred, but he could make out the clamminess of his skin, eyes encased in shadows. His nose was 10 shades of red, the worst right across his septum where he’d been rubbing and wiping at it non-stop. And to his horror, a liquidy trail of mess was leaking down his face, without him even realising it.
Just how disgusting could he get?
An icy shiver snaked down his spine, Nathan curled into himself. He was reaching for the hand towel when the itch in his nose returned. It was like nothing he’d experienced before. All-powerful, consuming. Taking siege of his nose and lungs.
“H–ehhh-uh…”
Nathan’s chapped lips slipped open, nose crinkling. He felt his sensitive, rubbed-raw nostrils flare.
“H-uhh-Ahhh—-”
His chest swelled in and out, like it was building, preparing, capturing breath for whatever was about to come. With the mess already dripping down his face Nathan had a sinking feeling this was not going to be over quickly.
No, his cold had been ignored too long as he’d slept. Now it demanded constant attention.
“Huu–ihhh…Huh..”
It was so closer, just tearing on the edge. He gripped his fingers around the sink, breath lurching in and out until he…. Until he…
“HAahH’DIZSSSH’uh!..Huh–ehh–HuUHH-EPTCh’uhh!”
He bucketed forward into the sink, knuckles growing white around the rim from the force of them. He heard the splatter as the mess hit the porcelain.
When he was done he took a second just to breathe, let the dizziness wash over him. Then he snagged some toilet paper and blew thickly- watching the way his face scrunched and eyes watered as he did so. He sneezed again into the wad of paper, warm and heavy even through several layers.
Feet dragging, Nathan shuffled back into his room. His head was swimming, a threatening ache was building across his sinuses. With a jolt, his foot placed awkwardly and he nearly stumbled.
Fuck, this wasn’t some stupid cold. He was sick for real. This hadn’t at all been what he’d signed up for. Sure, he’d known he’d be infected with a cold virus but he’s been expecting something more ordinary. Something that made his nose run and burst out a sneeze every now and then. Not the sickness flowing through him now that had him sneezing his brain out every other minute.
Nathan plopped down on the bed and hung his head in his hands, sniffling all the while.
“Ermm..” he called out, voice hoarse and crackling, face still buried in his hands, “Could I get so–ome.. Uh.. some—HHE’H’ETShh-ieww!” the last sneeze blew out of him with no warning, half blasting into the palms holding his head, half spilling to the wooden floors below.
“Some umm but do you have any fever meds, please? Sorry, I err don’t know if that’s allowed but…ugh snff I think I’m running a temperature”
The intercom flickered on, the voice coming through low and concerned.
“Morning Nathan, we’re so sorry to hear that. Remember you have the right to withdraw at any time. We’ll send some down and someone to look at you right now.”
On his bed, Nathan shivered. “Ughh…”he brought the back of a sleeve to scrub against his leaking nose, “Thangk you.”
Bundling himself back into bed, trying to get warm, Nathan heard a knock at the door.
He sat up again awkwardly, “Come in.” he croaked.
The same scientist from yesterday came in carrying a tray. Nathan spied Lucozade, tea, more tissues and a packet of paracetamol.
Halle-fucking-lujah
“Hi Nathan, I’m so sorry you’re feeling this rotten.” she said, voice crackling through the mask of the hazmat suit as she perched on the end of his bed.
“It’s—HUHhh…It’s— H’’EHT’SChuhh! Sorry snff.. it’s okay. I mean, I signed up for this right?”
Even through her hazmat suit, Nathan could sense the scientist look down at her hands, her shoulders growing tense.
“Nathan…there’s…something we need to tell you.”
But Nathan’s nose wasn’t satisfied from that singular sneeze. Through hazing vision he held up a shaking finger, telling her to pause. The sensation rolled through him like hands in dough, he was utterly at its mercy as it made his breath hitch and hitch and hh—hitch.
“Ehh-TSGHHH! Huuhh- hhehH–GK’TSshht!!”
He directed the sneezes down onto his lap as best he could but at this point he didn’t really care about the mess. Head bent, nose streaming, he caught his breath for a moment, feeling the aches and fever roll through him.
A cool gloved hand was on his shoulder.
“Bless you, Nathan. Here” she held out a wad of tissues.
Nathan croaked out something close to a thanks and held them up to his face, blowing until mess turned the material flimsy and his ears crackled and popped.
“Ugherrm– sorry. What was it you needed to tell me?” he asked as he placed the soiled thing on his mountainous desk pile.
Again the scientist looked almost sheepish, her hands dropping to the tray and gripping the sides of it.
“Well, you understand that this experiment was to see how quickly a common rhinovirus would infect you- three different strains, each a different severity?”
“...right.”
“And we opened the vents to allow your air to be mixed with someone at the height of infection.”
“Yeh.” Nathan was growing impatient, he was cold and tired, the skin around his nose stung and he just wanted to take some meds and roll himself away under the covers.
“Well.. when we opened the vent we…errr.. We actually opened all three.”
Nathan’s exhausted brain struggled to put the pieces together.
The scientist turned to face him straight on.
“Nathan, we believe you are simultaneously infected with all three strains.”
.'.
Nathan kicked the covers off his chest for the 10th time, suddenly boiling hot once again. He curled into himself and coughed bitterly, hearing and feeling the rattle of his congested lungs.
Brilliant, just fucking brilliant.
Why did he have to be miserably sick with not one, not two but three colds at the same time? Why did he have to be the victim of their stupid mistake? Why had he signed up for this in the first place??
But Nathan knew the answer to that last question. And so did his cock.
Every since the scientist had informed him of his unfortunate situation his mind had been running wild.
He’d been breathing in the desperately cold-infested air of three separate people. Three people's germs swimming about the room, diving deep into his lungs and now flowing through his bloodstream. Three people’s colds taking complete ownership of his body.
His cock was growing stiff and heavy in his boxers.
It was something out of his horniest fantasies. And his body was reacting like a teenager who'd discovered jacking off for the first time. Plus, it had been days. He usually banged one out at least once a night so the pressure coiling low in his stomach was hungry and raw.
Your absolutely sick, idiot. He tried to tell himself. Tried to tell the bulge pressing against the fabric of his pants. You have to stay in bed and sleep.
It was no use.
And so, legs shaky with the fever that only seemed to be getting worse he stood up, keeping his discarded top strategically placed over his lap.
Nathan stumbled to the bathroom, letting the door shut firmly behind him.
Just as he was slipping his fingers below the elastic waistband of his boxers, a breath caught against the hairs in his nose.
Nathan paused, nostrils flaring, lips parting, feeling his eyes slip shut and losing himself in the sensation.
“Hhehhh- ehh…hih’TTSSHOO!!...“HaAAH’SSCHIU-uhh-!!” They exploded out of him strong and heavy, but with little result. He was too miserably congested to clear much of anything. But fuck they still felt good.
Which one of their colds was making him sneeze like this? All of them? They’d surely all been sniffly, sneezy messes but what if one time they’d all sneezed at the same time?
“Fu-uhhck.” Nathan groaned as his fingers finally wrapped around his cock.
He ran his thumb up to his slit to steal a bit of the moisture building there. He wished he had some lotion or something but honestly he was too sick and too needy to care all that much.
Breath gasping from the ever present tickle and from the heady feeling of the pressure growing and growing, he lost himself in the desire.
He picked up the pace, pressing his back against the bathroom door for stability, pressing his lips together to stop himself from gasping out.
“Nghhnn…huh–ehh?? “AEE-Hhehh- ISHH’IEW! Huh…” this one was his nastiest yet, exploding down his face, his chest, even dripping onto–
“Sh–hit…ughh.” he breathed under his breath, watching the way his palms ran the extra moisture up and down his length in increasingly desperate strokes.
His knees were wobbling, his head pounding and his nose. God it was unrelenting. The deseprate need for release built through his sinuses once more but he didn’t stop, didn’t slow down.
He let the sneeze build through him. The sneezes they'd given him. The sneezes he'd breathed in.
The need rose through him. Like water in a jug. Bubbling, bubbling up until he– he….
“yIiHH'tSshiew! Ih'Pt’’ISHH’IEW!” they snarled out of him fiercely.
Nathan’s fingers slipped from their task but they soon resumed. He didn’t bother trying to wipe the mess from his face. It didn’t matter now. None of that mattered now.
He just needed to…needed to…
“HHA’’HUH–TSXCHuchh!”
With roaring electricity he came right as the sneeze exploded out of him. Nathan was bucked forward in rolls of pleasure, desperately stuffing the back of a hand in his mouth to stop himself from crying out.
His breaths came fast and staccato, eyes shut, gasping from the white-hot pleasure shooting from every nerve.
It took him a few minutes before his breathing pace returned to normal. Sweat sprouted from every inch of his fevered skin. And he was cold and unstable and his nose hurt even worse from the congestion swelling in his sinuses.
But fuck it had been more than worth it.
And as he stumbled back to bed, exhausted but satisfied, he wondered for how much longer the colds of three people would continue to dominate his body.
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.
Of course is only if you are feeling up to it but I keep thinking some 🥵thoughts🥵 about a wav of you talking about how you can't stop coughing, along with your moaning about how you don't feel well😷🤒
Contains: lots of coughing, 9 scattered sneezes, light nose blowing, sniffles, frustrated groans, throat clearing, nose rubbing, swearing, and a bit of complaining
I haven’t had much privacy these past few days, and I’ve also been pretty exhausted, but I think the second wav kinda works for this request?
Anyways, as you can hear, I’ve been pretty miserable and sick :(
For the past few days my nose has been really itchy. I had tons of false starts and kept having to blow my nose, but I seriously thought it was just the cold weather getting to me…
Then last night I had a bunch of nightmares where I woke up with chills, but covered in sweat, and feeling paranoid. Again, I waved it off—thought it was just a bad ptsd night…
But this afternoon I started coughing and just couldn’t stop. I kept having sporadic, painful, barking fits, and my chest felt really off ??
And now I’ve completely wrecked my voice from all the coughing, I’ve started sneezing, and I can feel the congestion creeping into my sinuses.🤧
So yeah, pretty sure I caught a cold for Christmas.
thinking about a fantasy setting where the equivalent of the common cold is essentially harmless at the end, with no significant risks attached, but the symptoms themselves are wretched and messy and just absolutely miserable. where a normal cold involves thick congestion alongside a relentless, endlessly running nose, thick yellow snot that dribbles down constantly, and absolutely explodes out of afflicted noses with frequent, infectious sneezes. any handkerchief, or gods forbid tissue, is saturated within a minute, and it just doesn't stop. anybody with this illness feels and looks absolutely terrible. their voice is nearly unintelligibly congested, with deep shadows under their eyes, their mouth hanging open,a bright red nose, and they're hopelessly contagious. but of course, it’s not worth staying home over - it’s only a common cold.
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.
cw: talking, whimpering, and everything after 2:15 is just very thick miserable sniffling. also i didn’t mean for this to be asmr because i personally don’t like the spine tingles but that’s kinda how it turned out so be warned of that too ^^
someone bundled in their pajamas under blankets in bed in the dark, the curtains drawn tight, tissues scattered everywhere, humidifier on full blast and a fat ice pack pressed to their forehead, breathing heavily through their chapped lips. the light from their phone lights up their pale face, purple-ringed eyes, and red nostrils; they've just called into work, and now they're leaving a voicemail for their partner. "babe, snnnxxTT. Don'dd cobe ober donighd, snnnXXt. Ib so, guhhh, so sigg. SNNXTTTXt, uughhhh. Feel horrible, snsnnXXTT. If you gould gadcel our didder reserbadions, guhhhh, thadd be gr...eeaCHHOOO! eeAHHHCHhOO! Uchhh, snnxnxxtTT snnxtT, thadd be gread, thags. Bye."
It's the magical time of the year again, songs and decorations everywhere, magic in the air, no, not that, the air is just thick with germs as people flock from a store to another, and no mere cold is going to hinder their absolutely necessary seasonal shopping.
People sneezing accidentally on each other when standing in lines or next to crowded counters. Red-nosed, constantly snuffling people sneezing wetly on the mechandise that's soon to be picked up by some unlucky customer, or just in the air, spreading their colds far and wide.
Visibly cold-ridden people wiping their streaming noses into the ratty, wet tissues filling their pockets, then picking up a product, considering, and putting it back entirely contaminated, ready for the next busy customer. Or handing money to the cashier, painstakingly counting their change while sniffing thickly, head is swimming, are they getting a fever or is it just the snot? Eventually sneezing a sudden, rough sneeze into the palm of their free hand, the coins in the other, blushing fiercely, and handing the sticky coins to the poor cashier, asking them to count for them.
Of course the staff keeps catching everything and circulating the vicious colds among them, and giving back go the customers as they sneeze their way though the workdays, sneezing and blowing their noses while filling shelves, serving customers, oh but that one woman who always gets the colds so bad, a cashier today, her line is the shortest because anyone who gets a glimpse of her red, streaming nose or hears her sneeze, blow her nose or just talk will step back and find another line, no matter how long it is. One man even left his shopping right there when she abruptly sneezed, just walked out furiously sanitising his hands (he wasn't spared; he woke up two days later with a dry, sore throat and a leaky nose, remembered her, and groaned).
the congested breaths, thick swallows, and soft snores when someone's asleep with a cold are so good. i think it's the vulnerability... because all these little extra signs of illness come out when they aren't awake to downplay them, and it just shows how much that cold isn't letting up even for a second, even when they're unconscious
Here it is guys! The 2025 Feveruary prompts! We wanted them to be more generally comfort focused so then they be able to be interpreted in different ways to allow you guys to be as creative as you’d like!
We’re so excited to share these with you and we can’t wait to see what you write! As always feel free to ask any questions or share your excitement about this event! :D
We'll post more about how to submit your work and the AO3 collection closer to the time! For now though, we wish you goodluck and happy writing!
Text Version Below:
“How did you end up like this?”
Burning Up then Freezing Cold
Caught in the Rain
Herbal Remedy
“Could you just hold me?”
Spoon-Feeding
“I’m still not used to being taken care of.”
“Couldn’t you keep your cold to yourself.”
Face Masks
“You’re safe, it was just a dream.”
“You’re burning up!”
Role Reversal – Medic to Sickie
“I wouldn’t even trust you to boil tea in your condition!”
Falling asleep in the wrong place
Guiding sickie back to bed
“Is it me or is it really warm in here?”
“I know you want to help but you’re only making things worse.”
Delirious
“I know ice cream is good for sore throats but that’s way too much!”
Lost Voice/Strep Throat
From better to worse
“Our date can wait! You’re far more important.”
“You need a tissue?”
“Don’t you think you should stay home today?”
Standing Vigil
“You sure I’m sick? Because I feel fine.”
Vacation Disaster
“Well, it sounds to me like you need a little bit of TLC.”
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.
We made it, folks! I really pushed myself to finish @sicktember and I’m so proud I did. For this last work I decided to just let go and do something different. TW for fictional contagion and some mess. Like, contagion is all it is. Which is not something I usually write, but I was inspired by @poetryandsniffles “Going Around” at 3am. It starts with unnamed characters and ends with you. Hope someone enjoys this. As you guys might know, snz isn't fully my thing but I know I have a lot of followers for whom it is, so this is for you. 1,933 words, TW fictional contagion.
It’s Saturday, and all the new freshmen students are moving into the dorms down the street. The bookseller is ready for them, knowing all the students are eager to exercise their first taste of freedom and want to window shop in their new college town. It's probably his busiest day of the year, which is why he absolutely cannot close the store despite the wretched cold he woke up with. He has a cough that won't let him finish a sentence without interrupting himself, and being surrounded by all the used books is making the sneezes that overtake him every minute even worse. He’s putting an old tome of Shakespeare away when he hears the bell ring, signaling a customer. He closes the book and accidentally inhales a noseful of dust. He tries to say, “Welcome,” but instead all he gets out is “Wehh - heee - ahh hatchoo!”
“Bless you!” It's definitely a freshman, round glasses overtaking half her face and her little homemade clay earrings dangling on either side.
“Tdangks,” the bookseller mumbles, snorting a huge noseful of congestion up into his face in an attempt to clear his voice. Apparently that's the wrong move, because it causes him to erupt into a harsh round of coughing that forces him to sit down behind his desk.
The freshman doesn't seem to mind. She’s too interested in looking around the store, fascinated by the used books. The bookseller nurses his poor nose into the fiftieth tissue of the morning, blowing as hard as he can yet it doesn't seem to clear the congestion. He hasn't been this sick in ages. Why did it have to be today of all days?
“I’ll take this, please.”
The bookseller looks up to find the freshman standing in front of him, holding none other than the thick Shakespeare tome he just put away. The one that he knows he really should have wiped down before shelving.
“Are you sure you want this one?” He asks hesitantly.
“Why?”
Explaining feels like too much work, and bad business. The bookseller shakes his head. “No reason,” he says, coughing into his elbow. “That’ll be $10.80.”
~.~.~.~
It’s well known that a cold isn't uncommon in the beginning of the semester, but the freshman can't believe it took less than a week for her to get hit with this plague. It’s only the end of the first day of classes when she feels a tickle in her throat that makes her cough. By evening she’s feeling the chill of an incoming fever, and by the next morning she feels like she’s been hit by a bus. This feels worse than just a cold, but it's literally the second day of classes in her first year of university. She can't afford to take a sick day so soon.
And so, the freshman drags herself to her English 101 lecture where she continues to cough and shiver, clutching the hoodie she's wearing around her ever tighter. Her bones ache and she feels like she desperately needs to be in bed, but this lecture is three hours long. Three torturous hours, and it's not a huge class. Everybody can hear her coughing away, she's sure of it. She's so embarrassed by her noisiness - the rustle as she plucks out tissue after tissue from the box she's helplessly taken to carrying around. The petite sniffle she's trying to hold back every few seconds, but if she doesn't her nose will be streaming. The stifled sneezes that more than often result in additional chesty coughs. By the end of the lecture she’s so cold and miserable that she's not sure she's going to make it to her next class, which is chemistry 100.
Somehow she does, and before most of the other students too. She figures now is a good time to try and blow her nose as loudly as possible. Maybe if she can empty it out, she won't be so disruptive at this lecture. She blows into a tissue hard, and it makes her nose tickle. She can't hold it back, and she scrambles to grab another tissue - but it's too late. She ducks her head to the side and sneezes, uncovered, spraying the space next to her. Thankfully no one’s sat down yet. She hastily tries to clean the desk with the tissue, but she stupidly didn't bring any hand sanitizer and the desk is still gleaming with germs when a boy comes in and sits right next to her.
He greets her and introduces himself as a football player who’s retaking the class. The freshman can't help but watch in horror as he puts his hands all over the desk, then proceeds to bite his nails. She can't just apologize, but she does so in her head, knowing he’s doomed.
~.~.~.~
The football player is pretty pissed that he’s managed to catch something already. He doesn't have any time for a cold, especially not so early in the season. It doesn't matter that it’s cold for September, or that it's raining, or that he already had chills before practice started. He’s got to push through for the sake of the team, and also his reputation and scholarship. And he still has to finish that chemistry assignment. Who gives such a long homework in the first two weeks of classes? It should be illegal.
He’s drying off in the locker room, a now very wet cough echoing against the metal lockers. He changes into clean clothes, but he still feels sticky with sweat and rain water. He shivers and shleps off to his chemistry professor's office hours. He needs an extension.
The professor doesn't look happy to see him dripping and sniffling when he shows up at his door. “C’mon, professor, I just need a few days. It's the beginning of the season, I can't fall behind already, and I’m - koff koff koff - sick.”
“I can see that,” the professor says in mild disgust. “But I don't make exceptions. Not even for athletes,” she says before he can protest.
“That's not fair,” the football player complains. “I really am s-siii-”
The professor tries to duck, but it's too late. The football player sneezes, only poorly half covering. “Sorry,” he says hoarsely.
“I think you'd better go home and lie down,” the professor says in a clipped tone. There's some spray on the corner of her glasses, much to both of their chagrin. “And skip practice tomorrow.”
“Yes ma'am,” the football player says. He’s too ashamed of himself now to keep begging. The professor sprays lysol all over her office and hopes it’ll be enough.
~.~.~.~
It’s not enough. By the end of the week the professor, too, is full of cold. She has to lecture through it, even though she barely has a voice and nearly spills chemical solutions on herself trying to contain her sneezes into her shoulder while holding glass beakers. The students keep blessing her, and that irritates her more than anything because it's their damn fault she’s sick. She's trying to make tenure though, and isn't about to call out, so she pushes through. Every sneeze hitches in the back of her throat as she tries to hold back, making a girlish noise that kills her inside a little.
She’s already passed the cold along to her husband, your coworker, who has an immune system as good as a preschooler. She can't wait to get home where she can just relax. Her legs are cramping from standing for so long in heels, her makeup is running because of all the congestion, and she keeps making errors while lecturing that she never would otherwise. This cold is so embarrassing and comes with all the visible symptoms: cough, congestion, sneezing, fever. It's impossible to hide.
Her coworkers have even taken notice and mentioned she ought to take it easy, which the professor absolutely will not be doing. So what if she has to cough through her lectures? So what if the students in the front row may or may not be nursing colds of their own in a week? She has to work, that's just how it is. No exceptions, she tells her students. Not even for herself.
~.~.~.~
You can hear your coworker coughing from his cubicle opposite you. Yesterday he said his wife was sick, and today he seems to have brought her cold to share with everyone. How generous of him, you think dryly. You cringe as you hear him blow his nose again, a wet, harsh sound that is the audible equivalent of contagion. And now - oh no. Now he's coming to you.
“I've got the report done,” your coworker says as he approaches. His eyes are red rimmed and watery, nose raw red from blowing and his lips parted in an awkward fashion because he can't breathe properly. And now he's blowing germs all over your desk.
You take the report from him and hope to shoo him away quickly with a thank you, but no such luck. He bends over your desk and starts to explain part of the report that apparently, he finds is not self explanatory enough. You can hear the whistle of blocked sinuses and his voice crackles with congestion. “Does that make sense?” He asks, standing up and sniffling. He runs his temple, clearly also trying to work through a headache.
“Yes, perfect sense,” you tell your coworker. It doesn't matter if it made sense or not, you wish he'd just go away. “You don't look so good. Why don't you go home?” You ask.
“It's not so bad - snrrk!” He says before snorting loudly. “I can deal with it.”
“I see,” you say. And apparently everyone else has to deal with it, too.
~.~.~.~
You hope you'll get lucky. That Emergen-C and hand sanitizer will save you - but it doesn't. Because a few days later you, too, wake up with an ache in your head and chest and a shiver that won't go away despite several fall layers of clothing. You have a cough that snaps and crackles against your sore throat and the sinus pressure behind your eyes throbs. You haven't even made it out of bed before you're overtaken by a round of three loud sneezes in succession. You’re definitely sick.
Unlike your coworker, you're not about to work through this cold. You feel too lousy, and the fever you're running is way too high to ignore. It's everywhere, this fever: deep in your bones, making everything ache from head to toe. You spend the day in bed, shivering and coughing away. The bed becomes a sea of used tissues, the small trashcan long since overflowing. The fever must be making you emotional, because you can't help but tear up a little when your partner finally comes home.
“Aw, baby,” they say sympathetically. They press their cold hands against your hot cheeks and wet washcloths to cool you down. They climb into bed with you and cuddle you, your throbbing head and streaming nose in their lap, and don't complain about how you're getting snot all over their knee. “Poor love,” they say. “You’ll be better soon.”
You close your eyes and just listen to your partner’s soothing voice. In a few days, this will all be over, you tell yourself. Whatever this cold or flu from hell is, you’ll be back at it by next week. For right now though, you decide to just rely on your partner completely. Let them dote on you, take care of you, and hope you don’t get them - and didn't get too many others - sick, too.
A has their head on B's lap while they read aloud, they've been really into reading together lately, and A has been so excited to continue their current book. B, however, is coming down with a cold, and is having difficulty reading, their nose running and tickling like crazy, making them sniffle and sneeze so, so much. the state of their nose interrupting them frequently, and making it hard to focus. A is right in the spray zone every time B fails to cover their sneezes into their sleeve, sending spray all over A's face. from down on B's lap, A has a perfect view of B's nose, and can see their nostrils flare and twitch, as well as the snot trickling down onto their upper lip. B is stuttering and their breath hitching as they try to read during the build-up to yet another sneezing fit. A sits up slowly, takes the book from B's hand, places the bookmark on the page before closing the book and putting it aside. "i think it's time we take a break from reading and get you a hot steamy shower, then tucked into bed, hm?" A presses a kiss to B's slightly warm, clamy forehead, just before B leans forward and buries their nose into the crook of A's neck, letting out another messy fit of sneezes. "HIIH’NKXSHH! H'USSHHHIEW! HEH'KSHIEW!" A takes their shirt off, and holds it up to B's streaming nose, "blow for me" they instruct. B doesn't hesitate for even a moment before unleashing a long wet blow into A's shirt. "that's it. now, you go get in the shower, and i'll go boil the kettle for some tea afterwards. then, i'll come meet you in there, alright love?" A coos. B nods in response, followed by a stuffy "i thigk i m'bight have a cold" B sniffles. A chuckles softly, "oh, honey, you definitely have a cold. now, go on, get under the hot water." they plant a kiss on B's cheek and scurry off to the kitchen to boil the kettle, before joining their cold ridden partner in the shower.
A is sick and B is taking care of them... BUT! B is slowly starting to catch whatever A is, but B is trying their darndest to hide it because they KNOW A would never let B take care of them when theyre sick.
As B is starting to fall ill theyre sneakily dabbing at their nose and holding off blowing their nose until theyre alone.
Slowly B is getting more sick, theyre sneezing more, their head is starting to get heavier, their syllables are rounding out. Theyre having to stifle every sneeze behind A's back, using a hanky to replace the pile of tissues that would have been in its place, hoping their meds are enough to keep them well enough to avoid suspicions from A.
At this point A is starting to recover but B is reaching the height of their sickness, A is a bit more awake and slowly catching onto B. B's sneezes are sounding wetter, theyre sniffling a lot more. They know are struggling explaining to A that theyre sneezing and sniffling so much because of "allergies" and that they are "perfectly fine" (all in a nasally congested voice of course).
Now B is completely ill. Unable to control and hide their symptoms they lay in bed shamelessly sneezing messily with a heap of used tissues overflowing out of the trashcan next to them. Their head is throbbing, sinuses full of snot, forehead warm to the touch. A just looks at them annoyed that B was taking care of them as they too were sick. A also cannot help but do the same.
