25yo, Lesbian, Coldfucker, just here for snz content. If you’re underage, then please go away—I am deeply uncomfortable with the idea of you being here.
(( the 2nd part to that very horny ge/to/go/jo/cho/so snz fic/drabble MESS WARNING))
2 days of being between 2 biohazards, of course, it was no surprise when Choso woke up with a sore throat and a stuffy nose, or well, runny and stuffy according to the liquid-sounding sniffles that could barely keep the mess from running down to his lips.
He shudders and curls up under the covers he shared with his boyfriends, who were already stirring awake.
“Morning,” Satoru’s morning voice purrs in Choso’s ear as his arm slithers around his waist. There’s rustling on the other side of Choso, and Suguru sits up, pushing back his hair before stretching.
“Finally, can breathe through my nose.” He sighs, and Gojo nods with a slight cough. Choso, however, doesn’t come out from underneath the blankets. Gojo notices this and pulls Choso to him.
“I know you’re awake, Cho.” A whine escapes from Choso as he pulls to Gojo’s chest. As soon as any part of his body is exposed to the air, he shivers hard. His head feels dizzy, and he can’t help but lean his head into Gojo’s frame and curl up. Gojo’s eyes soften, and he wraps his arms around the older one. He could feel the heat seeping from Choso’s skin against his.
“Oh? Did our lil blood bunny get our cold~?” He teased, and the only reply he got was another series of sniffling. Suguru picked up on this and crawled over to them. A sympathetic smile painted his face, which quickly turned mischievous.
“Aw, poor thing, guess we’re gonna have to take care of our lil bunny.” Choso hears that hint of flirtiness in Geto’s voice and knows he’s done for. A set of hands ruffles Choso’s hair, a few strands flop down over his face, and he can feel them tickling the tip of his nose. That tickle gets stronger when he sniffles in his fruitless attempt, making his hair flutter oh so teasingly against the tip of his nose. His nose scrunches up and wriggles around, but that tickle runs through him fast. He doesn’t have the time to turn or pull away; instead.
“HEH! HhNGgsshhuhw!” A wet, messy sneeze is splattered against Gojo’s chest. When Choso’s eyes open, he sees the catastrophe he’s made. Varying cords and trails of snot connect to a large dark patch of Gojo’s shirt from his nose; some of the mess was still dripping down his face slowly. Choso’s face quickly turns bright red, and he tries blindly searching for the tissue box.
“Sorry, sorry, didn’t bmead to do that.” He apologizes, and a laugh rumbles from Gojo’s chest as he coos at him. He brought a hand to wrap the mess around his fingers and wipe the rest that hung from Choso’s nose onto his palm.
“Goodness, didn’t know you had that much in you, baby.” He turns his hand to show Choso all of that he had gathered, which only embarrassed the cursed being more.
“I dod’t like beig gross, ya know.” Choso huffs. This time, Suguru joins in, cupping Choso’s face as he postures up on his knees.
“Oh, but I don’t think you can help it, especially that cute lil nose of yours~” His voice is smooth and low, the way his fingers gently press against Choso’s cheeks and tilt his face makes it hard for him to hold eye contact.
“Your poor nose is so full of that awful cold, Satoru and I had, and you’re doing such a good job keeping it for us. I think it's only fair we help you with it.” A gentle kiss is pressed to the tip of Choso’s nose, and it takes the affection as an invitation. Another tickle sparks, making his lips part in a desperate gasp. His eyes go half lidded as his nose twitches and nostrils flare.
“Hiiih Heeehh!! Hey! Heehh.” When Choso tries to bring up his hands to try and catch the disaster he knows is coming, Gojo holds them down gingerly.
“Just let it out, its alright, Cho.” Choso’s build-ups are quick and hiccupy, eyes watering already. He lurches forward as the fit takes over.
“IhHt-!hhdsSCHHHhh!! IhHt-!hhdsSCHHHhh!! Huh! Hud’tt’shhhh!” The last one was much wetter than the first two, which were messier. Suguru cups his hand under Choso’s nose, drawing the nail of his thumb against one of his nostrils. Choso gasps sharply as the sensation of nostril flaring widely as if trying to get away from the other’s touch.
Suguru’s sweet voice was tempting Choso’s nose into submission.
“That’s it, baby, let it all out. I know it tickles so much, doesn’t it?” Choso couldn’t even answer besides a half-attempted warning that got interrupted.
“I-i’mb godda godda ssdeehhHt-!hhdsSCHHHhh!! HhNGgsshhuhw! HhNGgsshhuhw!” Warm snot pours from both nostrils into Geto’s hand. He pinches at the thinning strings and pulls his hand away.
“Bless you! My my my, you really caught the worst of it, huh?” Geto comments, the rims of Choso’s nose are already turning a pinkish red. He was pulled into a kiss first by Geto, then by Gojo. The soft feeling of their lips on his own was heavenly, even if the thoughts in the back of his mind were saying, ‘I don’t want them to get sick again.’ he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. Only when his body demanded air did he lean away.
He was still in Gojo’s arms when the white-haired man mentioned taking cold medicine. Choso grumbled, and his face twisted with disgust.
“That stuff tastes awful.”
“Hm, would you take it if I made it less awful?” Gojo asked. Choso raised a brow at this question. Gojo gestures for him to scoot off his lap for a second while he reaches for the liquid medicine on the nightstand. Choso watches him uncap and take a mouthful of it, but he doesn’t swallow it.
“What are you-” But he doesn’t get to finish his question, with Gojo pressing him into a deep kiss. With the sudden surprise, Choso’s mouth opens, and Gojo pushes the mouthful of medicine into his. Even at the awful taste of chemical cherry liquid, he lets it fill his mouth till he has to pull back and swallow it. He panted between swallows, his nose still dripped. He tried to wipe it up himself, but his nose had started to become touch-sensitive around the edges of his nostrils. He hissed at the sting but shuddered as the tickle came back with not enough time for a warning. He could only bring up his hands and lurched into them with a fit.
“HhNGgsshhuhw! Heh! HhNGgsshhuhw! IhHt-!hhdsSCHHHhh!! Heeh! IhHt-!hhdsSCHHHhh!! Ugh,” He pulled his hands away with a congested sigh. Satoru immediately started to laugh, which confused Choso.
“What is it?”
“Oh, you really are precious lil disaster when you’re sick, dripping down your face, must’ve felt better huh~?” Choso looked down to see strings of mess slowly but surely dripping down to his hands. He bit back a shriek and tried to clean himself up with his hands while muttering ‘gross gross gross gross gross,’ But as soon as he rubbed the back of his hand against his nostrils again, he triggered another snz, this one much more urgent and messy.
"HhNNnGggsshhuuuhw!"
He splattered mess across his hand and off the sides; it definitely sounded rough, too, with how it scraped up the sides of his throat. Geto came over with the cuff of his sleeve to clean him up. Gingerly dabbing at the reddened, tender skin of Choso’s nose.
“Poor thing, you really aren’t well, poor nose is so sensitive, be careful with it.” Once again he was stuck between two horny freaks.
I love your alien concept! I’d love to see one with a cold or space equivalent 🤩
Amazing art!
thank you :33333333 thank you everybody for the love :)
ok so the idea i have is that the colds they get aren't caused by germs, but actually a parasite of sorts. I have drawn up this handy dandy chart to illustrate my point.
This algae-looking fish is carrying a clutch of eggs, and is just about ready to make a deposit.
The clutch-bearer normally lays their eggs in the crevices of living things - mouths, ear holes, gills, and in this case, a long, cozy trunk. These fish are so small that they can wander in, make the drop-off, and then exit all while staying completely undetected.
The shells of the eggs are lined with prongs that, when touched to the host's flesh, emit a toxin into the bloodstream which suppresses the body's natural urge to expulse the eggs. The irritation caused by the eggs can still be felt, but the host just can't ever reach the point of coughing or sneezing.
The eggs hatch and the juvenile fish sustain themselves on the excess bodily fluids caused by the irritation. Through the course of about a week, the juveniles continue to feed until their grown enough to survive on their own.
By the time the juveniles grow to be nice and fat and healthy, the leftover egg shells should have completely dissolved, and without the presence of the shells and their toxic prongs, it leads to...
Quite the explosion. It doesn't hurt the juveniles, in fact, it helps them emerge out into the world so they can finally start living their lives, much to the host's relief. The expulsions last until all the juveniles are all gone, which could take another 3-4 days, and after that the host is pretty much recovered. Overall, the infestation lasts about a week and a half.
Along with irritation, an infestation can be accompanied by swelling and pain in the afflicted areas, as well as fatigue, dizziness, and fever. It usually doesn't get serious unless the fever spikes or an infection occurs, which can be caused by the shells improperly dissolving or the clutch-bearer dying inside the host due to complications during laying.
I also fixed up the space traveler concept while I was at it. Space travelers are provided synthetic metal shells packed with everything they could ever need, and it also doubles as a miniature space ship. The wire connected to the cheek is what allows material passed through the trunk to become data and get stored in the shell's computer. Nice and sleek and easy to draw.
(Soooo ya boy got really really self indulgent and made a getogojochoso snzfic)
(CW this will have serious contagion, mess and some smuttyness. no literal/actual sex but its pretty spicy)
Spend time with your boyfriends, she said. It’ll be fun, she said. They miss you, she said. What Yuki didn’t say was that Choso would be put in the eye of a storm. What storm, you may ask? Satoru and Suguru have an awful cold. Choso knew when he opened the front door, he was screwed. The living room of the apartment was dark, the blankets stripped from the sofa, and the distant sound of coughing echoed through the halls from the bedroom. Choso should have listened to the voice in his mind that said, ‘turn back,’ but Yuki was already gone. He tried to text her, begging her to come and get him, but all he got in return was ‘have fun’ like she was dropping him off at daycare.
“Choso?” A voice calls from the bedroom. God, this felt like walking into a horror movie house; the urge to run was paralyzing. Choso cringed at the voice, which he could probably guess was Satoru. Suguru was the type to sleep more. Well, unless Satoru was keeping him up. Slipping his shoes off, Choso sighs and adjusts the mask he has over his face before calling back.
“Yeah, it's me!” He pads his way towards the bedroom and peeks inside.
A nest of blankets piled up on the bed, with two sickly men inside. Suguru was lying up against a couple of pillows with his long black hair splayed out in a chaotic mess. His slightly tanned skin was tainted by a flush across his face, his purple eyes glassy and exhausted. His nose seemed to be the primary problem, already looking irritated and turning red, along with the amount of tissues that were spread across the sheets and the two boxes nearby. Then there was Satoru lying on Suguru’s chest, well, now he was sitting on his waist. Dressed in what he could guess was one of Suguru’s sweatshirts from how loosely it fit and soft PJ pants. His already pale skin was much paler than usual, the fever face sticking out clearly. With those stupid sunglasses off, those crystal blue eyes were dull and hazy. Gojo kept the cuff of the sweatshirt pressed to his nose, but he couldn’t hide the obvious redness.
“There you are cobe here!” Gojo whined, making grabby hands towards Choso. Choso hesitated but dodged the tissues on the floor and on the bed to slide in beside Geto.
“How are you two doing?” Choso asked awkwardly. It was already clear what the answer was but it was polite to ask. There was a slight grin on Gojo’s face that never spelled anything good. He reached out and slung his arms around Choso, even as Choso tried to lean away; there’s not much space to get away without falling off the bed where he sat. Gojo pulls Choso to him and nuzzles into him with a congested him of happiness.
“Better dnow that you’re here.” Thick wet sniffles punctuate his sentence. Choso can feel the feverish warmth searing into his skin from Gojo and looks at him with slight worry.
“You’re running hot.” He points out, the grin spreads across Gojo’s face, and his eyes shine deviously for a moment. In a deep, gravely voice, he replies.
“Aaaaw you thigk i’b hot~” A chill runs up Choso’s spine, and he feels his chest grow warm underneath the mask. A whine slips from his lips, distracting him from everything else. Gojo lets go only to slide into Choso’s lap while Geto rolls onto his side, lazily wrapping an arm around Choso. He’s pulled further onto the bed this way, and now he can’t get out of it. He’s surrounded on both sides by two biohazards!
“C’bmere, dod’t wadt you to fall off the bed,” Suguru mumbles. Gojo is now leaning into Choso’s chest with content plastered across his face. Though it's temporarily lived as his nose and face scrunch up. His nose wriggles around before his lips start to part, and soft gasps
“HhhHheh! Heh! Heeegh! hHEG’nnsSSHHWw!” A sneeze that sends a long, thick string of mess oozing down Gojo’s face. Tuning back into reality, Choso sees this and grabs a tissue from the box.
“Bless you, here,” He tries catching what leaks out and brings the tissue up to Satoru’s nose, but as soon as they touch, another eruption comes.
“hHEG’nnsSSHHHMMMPPHh!” Gojo’s body rocks forward, causing Choso to wrap his free arm around his waist. But he’s paying more attention to the heavy, damp warmth trapped in the tissue that he knew wouldn’t be holding much more if another sneeze came. He carefully pinches off anything left and tosses the used tissue aside. Satoru groans and sighs with a sniffly
“Thagk you”
“You’re welcome.” Then Choso feels wet warmth on his collarbone and sees Gojo rubbing is nose against him
“H-hey!” Choso tries to push him off gently, but Gojo wraps his arms around his torso securely.
“You’re so soft ad comfy” He whines. Choso huffed and just rubbed his back while Geto curled up beside them.
“You know how he is, Cho, no point id fightig it.” Well, at least Geto hadn’t done anything yet. A short series of wet sniffles and snorting followed his words; a piece of Geto’s hair flops over his face and brushes against his nose. Even when pushed back, it just flops back over. Geto shudders, fanning his face with one hand; his breath comes in long, drawn-out gasps. They tense his whole body, making his shoulders and head move back and shrug. His other hand is blindly searching for a tissue, but he doesn’t have time, and neither does Choso.
“ Huhhh Huhhh hhhuuuughuh! HUdt’ssscHHHhheuhw! HUdt’ssscHHHhheuhw HUdt’ssscHHHhheuhw!” Three body-shaking sneezes barrel from Geto, who just barely manages to catch them in the cuff of his sleeve. His muffled, congested voice can barely be understood, so he repeats himself.
“Cad you had be a tissue…or three?” Once he finally got the message, Choso grabbed a few tissues and held them out. Suguru took them and released his other hand from his face, showing the multiple thin strands of snot that dripped down before he tried cleaning it up.
“Sorry it just doesn’t stop ruddig, its always doig this.” Geto apologizes and lets out an utterly devastating nose blow. It definitely sounded that way; you could hear the snot flooding into the tissues.
“Guh this thig is so stuffed up’b.” He grumbles, wiping at his nose roughly before tossing the tissue aside.
“Yeah, it sounds like it” Choso agreed. Suguru leaned towards Choso’s shoulder with a sigh.
“Thagks for cobig over, Satoru’s beed whidig about it since last night.” Gojo looked up at Geto and glared at him playfully.
“I have’d beed whidig” He whines, his sickly boyfriend rolls his eyes and pulls the blanket over himself.
“Choso,” Gojo says. Choso looks down at the other with a ‘hm?’. Suddenly, Gojo’s hand comes towards Choso’s face and tugs at his mask.
“You know you don’t need this, it's just cold.”
“Seems more like the plague to me,” Choso mutters. Gojo pouts at him and pulls down on his mask
“Oh, cobe od, you’ll survive.” There’s a shared look between Satoru and Suguru, and the mischievous glint is back. Before Choso truly questions anything, he feels himself getting pressed between the two on the bed. Their arms around him, both front and back. Gojo straddles Choso’s lap and leans in for a kiss. Choso’s hands come up to Satoru’s shoulder, but his efforts to push away are fumbled when his own body betrays him in want of that kiss. Noow Choso’s whining.
“You’re gonna get me sick.” Suddenly Suguru’s deeper voice purrs in his ear.
“Mbaybe that’s what we want, blood bunny~” A heat spreads from Choso’s cheeks to his ears, his whole face feels hot now. He knows he’s screwed now; he could already taste the sickness on his tongue from that kiss. Short hiccupy breaths give him the cue that there’s no going back now. He can see that spacy open-mouth expression on Satoru’s face. His nose is running down his upper lip on one side, while the other looks like some is threatening to spill.
His mouth drops open as his head tilts back a little, showing those flaring red nostrils right before disaster comes down.
“hHEG’nnsSSHHWw! hHEG’nnsSSHHWw Heehhh! hHEG’nnsSSHHWw!” Spray hits him point-blank in Choso’s face while Gojo’s nose leaks heavily down his face.
“Ugh thats behh better, huhh h-huhoold on.” Gojo’s words falter, and his chest heaves
“Gihhh give bme hheeeh hehh! Your hhuhh give bme your hand,” He commands. Choso hesitates but brings up his hand. Gojo takes it and brings it to his face to deliver a messy fit.
“ hHEG’nnsSSHHWw! hHEG’nnsSSHHWw! hHEG’nnsSSHHWw!” Snot splatters into Choso’s hand, its heavy and warm and leaking between his fingers. Gods, how could one person make that much snot!?
“Thagk you, that felt so bmuch better,” Gojo sighs, like doing that gave him relief, even if he still sounded horribly congested despite letting out all that. He then leans away from Choso’s hand and nuzzles his nose into his collarbone again, pulling a shiver from him. Meanwhile, Geto was already rubbing his nose into Choso’s shoulder like his nose was pissing him off.
“This stupid thihh thig is so tiihh tickly.” Choso feels Suguru’s grip on him getting desperate just like his hitching. Long and vocal, his body shakes, pressing his chest to Choso’s back. Suguru reels back and delivers an equally wet and messy set into Choso’s neck. Choso lets out an “Anhk!” and tenses; it feels like a wet kiss on his neck.
“ HUdt’ssscHHHhheuhw! HUdt’ssscHHHhheuhw! HUdt’ssscHHHhheuhw! Huhhh uuuuuughh HUdt’ssscHHHhheuhw!” Mess runs down his neck and onto his shoulder, Choso tries to bite back another noise that gets caught in his throat, but his eyes rolling back give him away.
A hand grabs his face and turns him to face Suguru. Those deep purple eyes are half lidded, but they’re not Choso’s focus; instead, it's that red and abused nose that keeps flaring and twitching. He almost doesn’t catch what Suguru says to him.
“Oh, you are so fugked, you’re godda get so sigk~” His mind completely blanks out when Satoru sprays a mess sneeze at the other side of his neck. That ot breath fluttering against his damp skin. He finds himself white knuckling the sheets. Oh’s so screwed.
Okay I don’t know if the recs thing is still on the table BUT……would you be willing to share some Mathias sick ideas, like him stifling, or with a fever, in denial perhaps… (if that’s not in character that’s fine lol)
I wanna share some ideas about one of my favorite types of sickie, because I’m a bit of a masochistic sickie myself~
Someone choosing not to take any cold medicine bc they’re pretty sure they can handle going about their day without it
Medicine being a reward for being good for their partner
Their partner not allowing them any tissues during a sneezing fit, only letting them blow their nose into rough paper towels that further irritate their nose
Inducing when they’re sick bc their harsh, throat-tearing sneezes are the most satisfying
Purposefully exerting themself when their muscles ache. They feel sore and tender and sensitive all over
Someone letting their sensitive sinuses take them by surprise, not taking medicine so that their sneezing fits hit hard and fast
More intense/explicit scenarios below ↓
Someone having rough sex when they’ve lost their voice, unable to moan and scream, only managing painful whines and breathless gasps
Breathplay with a horribly congested sickie- their mouth is covered until they’re allowed to breathe, heart pounding as they get more and more desperate
Someone getting fucked while they have a fever. Their body is sensitive, their head is spinning, the onslaught of stimuli is driving them crazy. They won’t be able to get out of bed tomorrow
omg we have so many similar tastes. the stuffier and snottier the better 🤤
Hehe yeah 😏. Love me a good goopy head-cold. Mess is a huge part of the kink for me. So is contagion. I love the powerlessness of having no control over what your body is doing, whether it's making torrents of thick mucus ooze out of your head or racking your chest with cough after cough.
I also really like the idea that there is something inside you, slowly corrupting and leaching off of your body and that now that it's in you you become a beacon for it's proliferation💕
charas: megumi, yuuji
cw: snz kink content !!! explicit sex, chara with snz kink, oral sex
notes: um. this is babys first smut fic.... please be nice im so scared to post this LOLLL first off a hugee thank you to @wildindigo111 and @randomsnzftshist for going through this and making sure the scenes werent awful. you guys boosted my confidence enough to post this LOL! i had a lot of fun going out of my comfort zone w this one. takes place post-canon when they're both pro-sorceres !! in the generic evb lives au. hope u enjoy !!
Yuuji is considered the only member in their circle who’s actually good at reading Megumi.
It’s not that hard once you know where to look. All of Megumi’s tells start getting pretty obvious once you observe for a while. For example:
When Megumi left that morning for a mission, his eyes were crinkled around the corners, and his brow held a permanent furrow. Last night, he had been kind of quiet, swapping out his usual few-word sentences for impassive hums. Pair that with the time of year, and Yuuji’s got a pretty good idea of what’s going on.
When Megumi gets sick it comes on slowly, and takes just as long to fade, so he ends up feeling just okay enough to keep working, and just bad enough to look pretty miserable for most of the time he spends sick. It’s a pretty unfortunate combination, especially for somebody like Megumi, who really hates it when you tell him how pathetic he looks.
He’d just texted Yuuji that he was on the train home. Ijichi had been taken out with the same thing he suspected Megumi caught, and his message said in no uncertain terms that Yuuji is to “stay away” when he gets back. What it truly means is that he’d finally accepted his fate. Poor guy.
Yuuji fumbles around the apartment while he waits, cooking shogayaki with way too much ginger. It's even more than usual, because Megumi sounded a little stuffed up and he wants to make sure he can still taste it. He makes sure the TV volume is extra low and the heat set extra high, and half-watches some weird drama Kugisaki told him about until Megumi comes in.
He hears him before he sees him. First, the click of a lock, then quiet shuffling as Megumi takes off his shoes. When it takes him a little too long to say hi, Yuuji lolls his head over the back of the couch to see what's up. He's standing awkwardly in the doorway, one hand covering the lower half of his face. His eyelashes flutter for a minute before he ducks down.
“ hi'tzchh-! hid'tzshhiew-! ‘dTZSh-iewh!” he gives a few experimental sniffles before lowering his hand and locking eyes with Yuuji. He’s all pink from the cold. “Bless you!” he calls, still dangling. All the blood going to his head makes it feel weird, though, so he rights himself. Even though the extra heat was meant for his boyfriend, it's made him feel all soft and lazy, too. He gestures for Megumi to join him, and frowns over his shoulder when he doesn’t.
“I already told you, I’m sick.” It's a little sharp, like he’s all annoyed. Yuuji just shrugs and pats the couch more enthusiastically.
Unstoppable force vs. Immovable object, or whatever. When Megumi doesn’t do anything but glare at him and look kind of miserable, Yuuji sighs. “I won’t get sick, Megs. Pinky promise!” Even though that's not actually the sort of thing you can promise, Megumi eventually links their pinkies together and sags into the couch next to him.
Yuuji leans over, steals his customary ‘welcome back’ kiss. Megumi shifts closer, a little suddenly, parts his lips, invites Yuuji in. Snakes his cold hands under Yuuji’s shirt. It's a little weird for somebody who was just trying to skulk around him, but Yuuji doesn’t mind at all. Until Megumi stops dead.
It’s a whiplash feeling to Yuuji, who was just starting to lose himself in it all. “You okay?” he asks, pulling back a little.
Megumi clears his throat. “Yeah. Just, um.” His ears are all red. “Sorry, that was a lot.” Aww, poor thing. Maybe, instead of irritating him, the comments of concerned coworkers did something else to his boyfriend’s psyche.
“I don't mind.” Yuuji pushes back his bangs to give his forehead a quick peck. “You’re so pretty when you’re like this, I can't help myself either.” He watches the adam's apple of Megumi’s throat bob once, twice, before he clears his throat again.
“Did you cook dinner yet?” He avoids Yuuji’s eyes as he says it, like he's flustered about something, even though Yuuji hasn’t said anything out of the ordinary. It’s good that he’s got an appetite, so he’ll let it slide, dragging Megumi to the kitchen instead of answering.
Once they’re both sitting at the table, Yuuji takes the chance to get a good look at him. He’s rubbing his sleeve against the bottom of his nose, making a click-click sound as moisture shifts. His other hand is wrapped around the side of a mug of tea, clinging to its warmth. Even though he’s been inside for a little while, his face is still tinted pink and irritated. His eyes are a little red, too, like he's been crying or something. When he’s caught staring, he offers up a sheepish grin. Megumi opens his mouth, probably to tell him off, but then his breath gets all shaky and he gives up before any sound comes out, moving back into his sleeve.
“ hih- hi'Tzchh-! hiD'zshhi-! hI'zsHhi! hih - hiD-” he’s stuck in limbo for a few seconds, gazing hazily at the ceiling with his breath trembling, until it finally catches. Yuuji can’t help but wince in sympathy as he flinches forward with a “ hiD'TZCHhiewh-!” that’s unusually harsh for him. Megumi rubs at his throat as he recovers, nodding in thanks when Yuuji presses tissues into his hand.
Once he's okay again, Yuuji leans across the table to kiss his nose, because it's all cute like that, and he really can't resist, especially when Megumi’s face is all scrunched up after. “Bless you lots, babe!” his face takes on a different type of irritation. “Your sneezes are so cute.” Megumi’s brow furrows even deeper. He curls into himself a little bit, like he feels exposed
“Are you doing this on purpose?” he mumbles, glaring in a way that 's usually kind of intimidating but is just cute now. When Yuuji tilts his head, kind of confused, Megumi huffs a whistly breath through his nose and gestures vaguely to himself. Then, to his pants, when Yuuji still doesn’t get it, flush traveling down to his neck and the tips of his ears. That makes it all click.
Megumi’s hard. He’s horny. Yuuji can't help the laughter that bubbles up, rushing to reassure at the same time. “No, no! It's-” he cracks up again at his boyfriend's face. “It’s cute! Ow-!” There, Megumi smacks him across the head. He stands up to put a mostly empty plate in the sink. By the time Yuuji manages to get a hold of himself, he’s halfway to the bedroom, and Yuuji has to scramble to meet him before he’s kicked on the couch for the night.
“I’m sorry!” He pleads, still wiping tears from his eyes. “It's really cute, I promise. Let me take care of you?”
Megumi just kind of stares for a minute, observing, like there's some way he could be lying.. If it were somebody else, it might've stung a bit, but Megumi’s just that kind of guy, and he seems extra sensitive today. Yuuji nestles up to him, kisses the wrinkles between his brows, and considers it a win when he's not shoved away.
“Yeah.” Megumi sighs eventually. Yuuji grins and dares to kiss him on the lips, now. “I’ll meet you after I clean up dinner.”
Megumi meets him in the bedroom, flustered.
It's so cute, the fact that he gets so bothered by this sort of thing. Yuuji, overwhelmingly, wants to take care of him. It's a familiar feeling. Yuuji meets him on the bed, encouraging him to scooch back a bit so he can face him, almost in his lap. He kisses him, nibbles on his lip, until Megumi has to pull away to breathe through his mouth. This close, he can feel the heat of his breath. He’s probably a little embarrassed. When Megumi initiates the next kiss, pulling him forwards, hands in his hair, it's a little bit of a shock. Yuuji can take a hint, so he starts making out with Megumi. He responds eagerly- snakes his tongue into Yuuji’s mouth, runs it along even rows of teeth. As soon as Megumi pulls back to breathe, he’s back with more need. Megumi’s lips taste like vanilla chapstick. His mouth tastes like menthol. When Yuuji starts moving his hands, tracing the muscles of his neck, every part of him feels wrought with tension. Yuuji’s a little nervous to take off his sweatshirt, since he’d looked so cold earlier, but Megumi strips it off as soon as Yuuji’s hands dip below the worn collar.
Yuuji runs his hand along Megumi’s back as their lips meet again. He finds ridges of scar tissue and traces them, savors the way Megumi shudders. When his hands find his hips, tracing the outline of arching bones, Megumi makes a raspy sound low in his throat.
“You’re so cute.” Yuuji murmurs, nuzzling his head into Megumi’s. He stops kissing him because Megumi can’t breathe when he does, and he feels a little bad leaving him without air. He moves his attention to his lower lip, softly biting at chapped skin. Megumi responds in turn, sucking at his lips. Everything Yuuji does is turned back on him ten-fold. When he moves his lips to Megumi’s jaw, his hand grabs more fiercely at his hair, legs wrapping around Yuuji’s waist. His own body is starting to overheat, warmed by Megumi’s flush skin. When Yuuji moves down to his nipples, licking at goosebumped skin. Megumi divides his attention then, dropping one hand from his hair to rest above Yuuji’s, where it's been lazily tracing the waistband of his sweatpants, and starts urging it lower. Yuuji starts to trace the outline of his dick, tented through his pants. He squeezes, and Megumi responds by bucking his hips.
Yuuji stops tasting the cedarwood of Megumi's soap for a moment, looking up to meet his eyes. They’re even closer now, Yuuji’s knee close enough to create a gentle pressure against his bulge. There’s desperation etched in every one of his features, in more ways than one. His nose is pink with irritation, eyes a little unfocused. Yuuji kisses his lip again, dipping a hand to Megumi’s warm skin under his sweatpants, and Megumi's hands clench in his hair. When he gasps, it's not just pleasure, and Yuuji watches the way his features crumble as he tries feebly to squirm away from Yuuji.
“ hiD'czhh-! ‘tzshh-iewh-! hiDt'zSHhiew-!” Yuuji feels mist spray his arm as Megumi’s half-bent away, because there aren’t many places to go and Megumi’s no good at holding it off when he sneezes. His muscles clench and shudder with each hazy breath. “hD’tCZHh-yu!” Megumi sniffles before he turns back fully, but Yuuji still sees the way his upper lip shines with moisture.
“Bless you, baby.” Yuuji murmurs into his neck, smiling when Megumi whines beneath him. “You did good. So pretty.”
While sneezing doesn’t do anything in particular for Yuuji, seeing the effect it has on his boyfriend does. Megumi’s even more urgent, encouraging Yuuji’s hand to his dick. He’s all needy, pushing himself closer to Yuuji even though they’re only a hairsbreadth apart.
Yuuji goes back to tracing his lips down Megumi’s front, kissing each rib, each blemish. He lowers himself down, never breaking contact, until he’s on the hardwood floor, knees pressed down like prayer. He wants to worship Megumi. He kisses down his stomach, tasting cedarwood and sweat and heat.
His hands busy themselves with Megumi’s pants, and with nothing to do, Megumi’s other hand finds Yuuji’s back, rubbing the hard muscles he finds. When his sweatpants lay in a discarded heap somewhere near the bed, he tilts his head back, and Megumi crushes his lips against his. Between kisses, when Megumi catches his breath, Yuuji studies his face. “So pretty.” He repeats. Megumi’s pretty all the time, but the rawness of being sick and soft around Yuuji unlocks a new side of it. “Can I suck you off?”
Megumi nods, clears his throat. “Yeah,” he says, and it scrapes against his throat like sandpaper. Yuuji smiles, kisses him again for as long as Megumi can manage, and spreads Megumi’s legs apart. Right before he’s about to take him in his mouth, his breath catches, doing that hitchy buildup until the itch crescendos. He has an easier time turning away now, and Yuuji can’t see anything but the strain of his muscles.
“ i'ndt-iewh! ‘ndt- ndt’szhiew-! hiDt'chh-!” They’re about as restrained as Megumi can manage. His hand stops their massage, leaving Yuuji’s back to create a flimsy cover between them. Yuuji takes a hand of his own, reaching until he can cradle his face in his palm, and tilts until he can see him again. On the one he loves, watching the hitching of his breath and the silent battle in his face, Yuuji understands the attraction.
“I want to see.” He says, reaching to kiss him again. “You’re so pretty, Megumi. Let me see you sneeze?” He runs his thumb along his face until he finds the side of his nose, pressing gently until Megumi gasps, desperate and whiny. He’s enchanted, watching as Megumi dissolves, guided by Yuuji’s hand.
“hiD'cZSHh-! ‘tDZShhi-! i’tTCHhih-!” he sprays down his front, hand clenching in Yuuji’s hair. The final sneeze, uncharacteristically harsh, jerks him forward, and he accidentally tugs at the strands, but Yuuji won’t tell him. Instead, he praises. “Bless you. You did so good.” he lowers himself back down, pressing another kiss to Megumi’s inner thigh. “You’re so pretty, Megumi.”
His dick is hard and leaking with pre-cum. Yuuji takes one hand to the base, tracing up and down as he licks at it. When he wets his lips against it, releasing quickly, Megumi makes a keening noise. His hands tighten, nails digging into his scalp as he takes it tongue to his dick again.
He’s oversensitive- pent up. Every time his mouth touches his dick he mewls, becoming tenser and tenser. When Yuuji finally takes him in his mouth, he moans, raspily and deeply. It’s really sexy- Yuuji’s got that warm, wanting feeling in his nerves, a too-tight feeling in his boxers. As Yuuji starts to blow him, his hands rub against Megumi’s inner thigh. Megumi keens as he works his dick, skin dotted with goosebumps. Megumi whines for more, more until they’re moving at a dizzying pace, and then he throws his head back. He sounds so good, so needy. Just listening to him might get Yuuji off.
“Yuuji-!” is all the warning he gets before Megumi clenches, breath whiny.
“ ‘cZSHh-! d'shH-yu! hiD'cZSHh-!” His dick bounces, hitting the top of Yuuji’s throat with each sneeze. Yuuji takes him out of his mouth, glistening with spit, and kisses where his hands just were. “Did that feel good?” he asks, and doesn’t wait for an answer before taking Megumi back into his mouth. He hears his whine, and that's response enough.
He works Megumi's dick with his tongue, feeling the tension rise and rise, listening to Megumi, until he warns him, voice strained and whiny, that—“Yuuji, I'm gonna cum-!”
Yuuji takes him out of his mouth, purring as Megumi orgasms, warm and tense and so beautiful. Every noise is strained, and his voice breaks when he comes down, resting against the soft blanket with one final, worn noise. Yuuji gives his thigh one final kiss, squeezing his hand to it as he clambers back onto the bed to meet Megumi again. The kiss is shorter than it was before, because Megumi's catching his breath, and can't do that with Yuuji's mouth on his. He doesn’t mind, choosing instead to watch his boyfriend. He looks tired, but happy, gaze soft as the tension melts from his body.
He can tell he's ready for a shower, not very comfortable with being sticky and clammy with sweat. The way he watches Yuuji as he stands, staring through his eyelashes with lips swollen and parted, makes Yuujis own dick twitch. When he comes back to himself, he's frowning a little bit. “I'm sick. You probably shouldn't have kissed me.” Yuuji kisses him again, just to make a point.
“I never get sick.” He says, chest puffed out. When Megumi pulls himself onto his elbows, Yuuji goes to help him, guiding him up into a standing position. “Don't worry about that anyways. You need a shower.” And Yuuji needs to jerk himself off, but he'll keep that part to himself.
Now that he's standing, Megumi looks really tired out. He leans on Yuuji a little as they shuffle into the bathroom. Yuuji’s happy to take care of himself in there, warm and lazy from the steam, especially if it loosens up all the congestion in his nose and lets him kiss him for longer.
He knows, when they’re clean and back in the bedroom, Megumi will fall asleep with his hair still wet and breath against Yuuji's neck, probably snoring a little bit. Yuuji will grab his phone from the nightstand, tell Gojo that Megumi's down for the count, and turn off the morning alarms on his phone.
Yuuji knows, as he observes Megumi's silhouette through the shower curtain, starting to nod off under the hot water. He knows he needs to snap a picture of Megumi's sleeping form to Kugisaki later, because he knows she'll get a little worried when she finds out he's sick, even if she'll deny it, and will appreciate the excuse to get angry at how lovey-dovey he is. He'll probably captain it with something sickly-sweet, like “look at my honey bear ( ≧∀≦)ノ” just to make her even more mad.
They repeat this cycle every time the season shifts into deep winter, and Yuuji's gone through it enough times to know. In Yuuji's opinion, that's what makes it all so dear.
In my head this is f/f but feel free to imagine whatever.
God, she looks miserable.
Your girlfriend sags against the fridge while waiting for the kettle to boil. Her shoulders are slumped, her mouth slightly open, and a tissue is crumpled in her hand. Her head is tipped slightly back as she fights with gravity to keep the watery snot from dribbling down her chapped septum. She had only complained of a sore throat last night, but this morning’s infrequent sneezes had progressed into a streaming head cold by the time she got off work. She barely touched her dinner earlier.
Your gaze is glued to that gleam of moisture threatening to escape her nose.
She’s captivating.
Slowly, you walk over and pull her into your arms. Her cheeks are flushed—you bend to press a kiss to her forehead and yep, that’s a touch of fever. She shivers, then smothers a congested sounding sneeze against your chest. She tries to sniffle back the resulting stream of snot, but when she looks up at you there’s a watery tear on her cheek and that little dribble of mucous has breached containment. She’s biting her lip—she doesn’t really understand what you find irresistible about her in her current state, but here she is indulging your more unusual turn-ons despite her reservations. Your heart is too big for your chest.
You cup her face between both hands and lean down to slot your lips together. Watery mucous seeps onto your upper lip and nostrils. Its salty when you deepen the kiss. You can’t help chasing more, more, more of her.
Seconds or centuries later, the shriek of the kettle interrupts your kiss. She’s the one with the plugged nose, but you’re left equally breathless when you pull apart. She starts towards her waiting mug but stops when the building tickle in her nose overwhelms her. A series of 4 powerful sneezes leaves her panting and hunched in the aftermath.
“My poor, sniffly sweetheart. You’re really not feeling well are you?”
She flushes an even darker pink, but she doesn’t protest when you tuck her into bed (with her head propped up to ease congestion of course), fetch her mug of tea (with an extra dash of honey because her throat is obviously bothering her more than she’ll admit), and coax her into taking some medicine (she hates the cherry flavor, but she hates swallowing the pill kind even more when she has a sore throat).
Once she’s drifted off, you rescue the half full mug of tea from her grip. You finish the last few sips and can’t help squirming with desire when you think about her germs, her virus laying siege to your body’s defenses. Hopefully you’ll be plugged up with cold by this time tomorrow, but regardless, there’ll be plenty more opportunities to kiss your snotty, contagious sweetheart.
It's never been the most attractive thing for me as part of the fetish, and depending on context I can find it teeth-grindingly annoying, but sometimes it just hits like nothing else and recently I have been so SO into really thick sniffling...
Someone having a violent, tickly sneezing fit and sniffling immediately after, so thick and congested, only for those lovely little snuffles to trigger an immediate tickle and start them sneezing all over again
A real asshole of a person who doesn't care that they're frequently disturbing the people around them with their audibly thick sniffling - the ominous sound of it keeping everyone on edge for the sneezing it's bound to trigger, and if they have a cold it serves as a constant reminder that they'll probably soon be just as congested and sniffly too
Someone who desperately needs to blow their nose but is out of tissues, or can't free their hands to deal with it, so they keep sniffling and snuffling to stop mess from overflowing. Each sniffle holds back the congestion but they are so, so tickly...it's only a matter of time until they sneeze. Bonus points if they're in a crowded place or public transport, if they have a terrible cold in their nose OR if they are in inescapable proximity to an allergen
Someone with the worst allergies in the world - their eyes are dripping, their nose is running, and their throat and ears are so itchy. They keep snorting and sniffling to try and scratch the internal itch, so miserable that they no longer care about the looks of irritation people are shooting their way. It doesn't matter how often they blow their nose - their sinuses are so swollen it makes no difference. They sniffle constantly, the sound of it preceding and rounding off every irrepressible burst of sneezing
Someone sniffling in their partner's ear as they're fucking, embarassed to be making such a racket but they just can't help it - something has been making their nose tickle and run all day. Little do they know that their fetishist partner is absolutely on fire listening to them snuffle away, and eventually it pushes them over the edge.
Alternative to the above, someone who teases their fetishist partner with sniffles whilst they beg them to sneeze already - they hold back each sneeze, wanting to make their partner cum just by sniffling, promising they'll make it up to them later
Premise: Man locked in room, experiment to see how quickly/severely he's infected with a cold. He also has the kink teehee. (continuation of pt.1 on my profile)
2.6k words of this man having absolutely no control over his nose and wondering what the hell they infected him with.
CW: Descriptions of mess. A fair amount. I've been really into it lately.
Rest of fic under the cut!
Nathan blew his nose for what felt like the hundredth time that day. It was ridiculous. It was only 4pm on his first day with this godforsaken cold and his face felt utterly clogged.
He could feel the pressure across the tops of his cheeks, spreading to his ears from the mess filling his sinuses. It clung to the back of his throat too, gurgling upwards every time he’d raised a fisted hand to hack into.
And yet, despite its seemingly clagging up his face like cement, it found a way to trickle out, dripping onto his lip before he even realised what was happening.
He’d never felt so disgusting in all his life. And the thought that there was someone constantly watching and monitoring his misery sent a thrill of embarrassment rippling through him every time he caught a glimpse of the camera’s red flickering light in the corner.
He was sat up in bed, stubbornly refusing to lay down before he’d even had his tea. It was only day one for Christ’s sake. He refused to be bed-ridden already. But god he was tired. A weariness that rattled through his bones and hung around his brow bone.
His nose twitched, up and up, then sank down slowly. It hitched again, squelching. Nathan’s vision went hazy as the urge to sneeze once again took his senses hostage. His breath scissored laboriously. Such a production. Not only were his sneezes wetter and more all-consuming than his usual sneezes but they had a ridiculously long build-up.
Usually he was a one-and-done man. But this cold had other ideas.
He’d sit there in agonising limbo, chest rising up and up as he lost focus of anything else he might be trying to do. Utterly focused on the itch that laced its way up and down his nostrils, catching on the hairs, rising upwards with every inhale.
“H–UHHH….ehhhh” He gasped, letting his mouth slip open.
The book he had been attempting to read slipped from his fingers, dropping to the mattress below.
Still his breath snagged and hitched, the sound growing louder and louder.
“H–Aaaahh…HUH-UHH—”
Now that he wasn’t inhaling strategically too, his nose was running badly- a slow ooze determined to make it to his lips. A tear sprouted at the corner of his eye, irritated from the pressure building in his inflamed sinuses.
“H-UHH-uhh…H’EH!”
Fucks sake. He just needed to sneeze. The need for relief swelled through him. He’d do almost anything to be rid of the sensation coursing through him.
He could try a twisted up tissue. That sometimes worked for him at home when he wanted to make himself sneeze for…other reasons. But what about the people watching him? Would they think he was some freak for doing that?
That’s why he hadn’t wanked off before, though he’d desperately wanted to. The idea of the speakers picking up his stifled moans timed right after a particularly drenching sneeze had been too mortifying.
“HUU–uhh-Huh–Ehh…..Fu-Uhhhck– P-please.” he whispered to himself, still stuck in an overwhelming call for release. His chest was shivering, nose heaving with the mess filling it.
Fuck it. He had no other choice.
Through the bleary gaze of a cracked open eye, Nathan fumbled for the tissue box. He was almost through his first one of two. Not great as he wasn’t sure if passing him another one would jeopardise the experiment.
He snagged a tissue and began rolling it in his fingers, shaky and messy as the need to sneeze kept making him tip his head back and squeeze his eyes shut involuntarily.
Finally, the tip of the tissue sufficiently chiseled, he inserted it into his left nostril.
They blasted out of him without restraint, tipping him forward into his lap. The mess shot of him- splattering his book, his covers, his t-shirt. God there was so much. But fuck that had felt so good.
He sat there panting for a moment, head swimming from the force of them. Before he slowly sat up. The mess that had been hanging forward snapped onto his face, trailing well below his chin. Ughh.
Exhaustedly, he snatched the remaining tissues from his box and scooped up the moisture spread across his face. He blew thickly, grimacing as it filled the tissue beyond any use. Shit, he was gonna have to open up that second box.
One hand clutching the well-soiled, soggy mess still clutched to his face, he reached for the next box. Fresh tissues retrieved, he stuffed the ruined ones inside and got to work cleaning the rest of himself up.
Blinking slowly, he shifted back in the bed, exhaling through his mouth. Already his nostrils were full again. This cold really was no joke.
“Bless you, Nathan.”
The voice of the doctor from earlier came crackling through the speaker.
Embarrassment instantly flooded through him. They’d probably never seen someone make such a mess of themselves. Was it supposed to be like this? Had they infected him with some sort of super-soaker cold?
“Err, thadkgs.” He croaked back, voice utterly shot.
To make matters worse, the combination of the sneeziest, messiest bug he’d ever had plus the humiliation of being watched as it took merciless liberties on him, had him steadily growing hard again beneath the covers. His balls were beginning to ache. It was getting to the point he was gonna have to throw his hands to the wind and take care of things, no matter who was listening.
“I’m going to conduct the evening examination now, Nathan.”
Shit. What time was it? Had it reached five already?
Sure enough, the clock on his bedside table read 5pm. Great. Even worse, the need to sneeze was once again building its way through him. It was like the tide, sweeping in and out, tickling against the sand. Slow at first and then suddenly you realised it was High Tide and you had no way of getting back to shore.
The door creaked open. In walked the scientist, freshly cleaned Hazmat suit covering her every inch.
“How are you feeling, Nathan?” she said brightly, taking a seat on his bed.
He cleared throat, pushing his glasses up, “Dnot great, I’ll be honest.”
“Could you describe your symptoms for me?”
“Yeh, I uhh–HUHH, h-hold on.”
“Go ahead,” she said gently.
“AHH’HUUH-tschuhh!” He sneezed into his bare, cupped hands. Realising after the warm mess blasted into them that this was probably a poor choice.
“Umbb, sorry,” he stammered, trying to be as subtle as he could as he wiped his hands on the bundle of used tissues beside him.
“No need to apologise. You were saying?” she prompted.
This time he hadn’t been so quick with his hands and he raised a wrist haphazardly as the sneeze was already halfway out of him. The glow of the evening sun caught on the heavy droplets as they misted the air.
He snorted thickly, face flushing with embarrassment, “Is this…normal… for this cold? I feel like it’s come on fast.”
The scientist hesitated, pen pausing in her notetaking.
“To be honest with you Nathan, we wouldn’t expect this frequency of symptoms until at least day two. We’re currently working to understand why in your case it seems to have hit you especially hard. Oh, bless you.”
Nathan broke off to sneeze again. This time into a tissue cupped across his face. This cold truly seemed insatiable.
The scientist continued, “It could be that your immune system is functioning less effectively, but we did conduct significant research into your immuno-history before this experiment….We may also have exposed you to a greater quantity of viral particles.”
“Oh, okay.”
She smiled at him, “Rest assured, we will keep you updated. Now, today’s examination is going to be a little different, an experiment around your sneezing.”
Brilliant.
“Umm okay, what do you need me to do?” Nathan said, sniffling against a knuckled finger. His nose was starting to get raw from him constantly needing to fuss at it.
“We’re going to test your ability to stifle a sneeze. Previous participants have found that the particular strain we have infected you with makes this especially challenging to do so.”
Nathan thought about the drenching, overwhelming nature of his current sneezes, so uncharacteristic from his usual, unnoteworthy things.
“Right.”
The scientist reached into her pocket, a long, thin utensil was drawn out
“I’m going to insert this implement into your nostril to simulate a response. Then I would like you to do your best to stifle the resulting sneeze for me, okay? We will do 2 rounds of this on both nostrils. Any questions?”
Seemed straightforward enough. In principle. In reality though, Nathan’s nose was already buzzing with a heady desire for release. Trapping all that congestion and need inside?...Could he do it?
But no, he wanted to prove to her that he wasn’t some fucking mess. She’d seen all of his disgusting displays throughout the day. He was gonna show her that he was better at this bit than anyone else.
“I understand,” he said.
“Excellent, let’s begin.”
The scientist shifted closer, the fine implement grasped between her thickly gloved fingers. Nathan’s nose was running, he needed to blow it, but her hand was already raising to his face and it didn’t feel like the right time.
There was a distant warning buzzing at the back of his sinuses- taunting, daring.
“I’m going to insert it into your left nostril now.” she said, reaching upwards.
As soon as the feathery, cool material hit the inside of his inflamed nasal passageway, Nathan knew he was done for. The tickle was unbearable. His nose twitched upwards aggressively, as if trying to escape the thing twirling in small motions inside of him.
His chest hitched violently, the scientist's hazmat suit fading into a swirl of yellow as his vision blurred.
Fuck he needed to….he was gonna—
“HU—EHHH–hhh… HAAHH!!”
Stifle. He needed to stifle. But the urge to sneeze swelled inside him like a tidal wave. It smashed against the barriers, begging to push through.
Then with a tantalising swivel, the implement was drawn out of his nose, scraping against the hairs as it went.
“HHUU–uhh’ETTTGNNxx–uhh!” Nathan managed to stifle, but just barely, gritting his teeth together with the effort. His cold was not happy, the congestion flooded his nostrils like tar, there was nothing he could do to keep it inside.
“H-hold on.” he gasped, shielding his wrecked face as he fumbled for a tissue.
He blew his nose, a miserable, gushing sound, followed by a loud snort as he turned to face her again.
She was scribbling something onto the clipboard.
“Okay, on to the next one.” she said, reaching back out again.
In it went, almost illegally teasing against the sensitive skin of his nostrils. His nose was unhappy, it buzzed and quivered with a need to release its contents. And he wanted to, God, he wanted to.
The sensation built and built, climbing towards its peak. Before suddenly, as the implement was removed once more, rushing over the edge.
“HUUH-HA’’’AETGNXX!” Again, against the odds, he forced the powerful sensation into a stifle, the force of it shaking his body. His nose ached, his head pounding from the pressure. Wet congestion was seeping against the hands pressed to his face.
He’d managed two stifles. Nathan sincerely doubted he had another one in him.
The scientist was so completely clinical about a procedure which, for Nathan, was something out of a wet dream fantasy. Somehow her strict professionalism made the experience even more arousing.
2 more to go. He wasn’t sure if he’d make it.
“Are you ready for the other nostril?” she asked politely.
“Y-yes.”
Again it slipped inside, pushing through the snot filling his nose to tickle against the sensitive skin. The need to sneeze was loud and angry now, pulsing across his sinuses, making his eyes roll back in his head.
HE–HHU-uhEEhh….”
His breath shivered, desperate, hitching moans slipping between his parted lips.
He needed to stifle but he couldn’t. He….He……
“I’m…gonn-AHH’ HUH’uhEEIISSSCHOO!!” The sneeze came hurtling out of him before she’d even had time to remove her hand. The contents of his nose were blasted on to her gloved hand, no doubt warm even through the plastic.
He panted from the aftermath, eyes flicking up to hers slowly, grimacing when he saw what he’d done.
“Ughh… sorry, I tried…”
“That’s quite alright, Nathan. I’m intentionally making you sneeze, it’s perfectly normal to do so.”
He swallowed thickly, rubbing his nose into the shoulder of his shirt to wipe away the excess moisture.
“Yeh, okay.”
“One last time.” she said cheerily, reaching forwards again.
His nose was angry from all the irritation, from the itchy, terrible cold flooding through him and now this external simulation. Nathan had a terrible sinking feeling that it wasn’t going to be able to hold back much longer. The dam was going to break.
“H—IIHH–HUHHH…” he gasped once more, loud and needy, as the tool once again wiggled inside him. He’d completely given up on stifling, it was impossible. All he needed, all he could think about was the desire to get every last droplet of this cold out of his system.
His nose was more than happy to oblige.
With one final twizzle of the feather-light tool, the need surged up through him and plunged over the dam.
“H’’’AHTIISSHH’’CHUH….H–EHH…EH’TTIISHIEWWW…H’HAPTTtISS’’’SHOO!!” The sneezes flew out of him, powerful and merciless. Drenching the fabric of his t-shirt, shooting up beyond the gloves of the scientist to her yellow sleeves. What the hell was this cold? He’d never had something take over him so completely.
Nathan shook his head to try and clear the lingering, itchy sensation. His cheeks flamed from his miserable display. So much for showing he was better- his germ-infested mess was fucking everywhere.
“Jesus…snddff… I’m sorry.” He choked out, reaching for a tissue to hide his face behind. He blew deeply, the sound ringing out in the silent room for a good few seconds.
The scientist’s hand was on his knee. Fuck, she probably thought he was such a loser. I mean, who loses control of themselves like that?
“Nathan,” she said gently, “I understand this is certainly an uncomfortable situation for you, but there’s absolutely nothing to be sorry for. You’re doing great.”
Shit. Well that went directly to his dick.
“Uhh, okay, thanks. I guess I’ve never been sick like this before.”
She frowned, “We’ll keep looking into that, some strands are just more potent for some people but this does some rather pronounced.”
“Ssnndgggff…guhh… yeh.”
She rose from the bed slowly, “Alright then, thank you for your help today. It’s been very insightful. Get some rest.”
“Okay.”
He watched as she slipped from the room, cursing himself as he realised he forgot to ask for another box of tissues. After that little performance he’d already made a significant dent into the second box.
And it was only day 1, he kept reminding himself. Did that mean this thing was going to get worse?
As he lay there, thinking about the germs working through his system, the urge for release that hung around his nose no matter what he did, the soft, praising way the scientist spoke to him…Fuck it.
He was gonna have a wank in that bathroom if it was the last thing he did.
rubbing vicks onto their chest before bed, to try and help them sleep better through the night with their cold, but the scent of the vicks seems to have set off their sensitive nose, you see their nostrils, all red and chapped, starting to flare, and next thing you know, they're sneezing all over you. big, heavy, wet sneezes spraying directly into your face. their face goes as red as their nose, they apologize over and over again, horribly embarrassed.
Today I was out rollerblading and I was just slightly sniffly from the cold + exercise, and I tripped and fell down. (I’m ok)
Y’all,
I hit the ground so hard it LITERALLY knocked the snot out of me. I felt it happen obviously, but also there was a glob of snot just glistening on the pavement in front of me.
Now I’m obsessing over this+ a figure skater, who finally realizes oh, shit I’m sick. Bonus points if sick figure skater tripped over their own feet because fever brain fog + weak, noodly muscles. Extra bonus points if they leave the ice and go floppy and pathetic into their partner’s arms. So many possible ways to knock the snot out of a whumpee
I am writing an extremely self-indulgent fic. It's heavily inspired by one of my fav fics ever called- The Experiment- (1) The Experiment – @poor-darling on Tumblr.
I love contagion but mainly if it's within a constrained circumstance if that makes sense?
Anyway, here's a lil snippet!
xoxo
“Just through here, Mr Daniels.”
Nathan exhaled nervously, following the scientist into a small room. It was like a uni dorm, with a bed, a desk and an en-suite. There was a window, but no way to open it. And on the ceiling was a large vent, whirring fresh air inside.
“This is where you will be staying for the duration of the experiment,” the lady explained, “The air is currently fresh but after letting you get settled, we’ll inform you of when that changes.”
Nathan nodded.
She glanced over her clipboard. “Just to clarify, you do consent to remain in this room for this experiment, once we commence you will be unable to leave unless you use your right to withdraw.”
“Understood.”
“And,” she continued, “The intention of this experiment is to see how easily you are infected by an air-borne rhinovirus.”
She gestured to the vent above them, “As explained before, the air source of this vent will change- connecting you to a room housing an individual at the prime contagious stages of a rhinovirus. The air entering this room will therefore be filled with viral particles. You will be monitored each day to see if you get infected, how long it takes symptoms to manifest and how severe they are. Do you consent to likely being infected?”
Nathan swallowed, a ripple of electric shooting down from his stomach. He pictured the particles floating in through the vent, filling his lungs with nothing he could do about it.
Premise: Man locked on room, experiment to see how quickly/severely he's infected with a cold. He also has the kink teehee.
TW: There's descriptions of mess towards the end.
It's a little bit slow burn but stay with me guys.
Fic under the cut!
Day one:
“Just through here, Mr Daniels.”
Nathan exhaled nervously, following the scientist into a small room. It was like a uni dorm, with a bed, a desk and an en-suite. There was a window, but no way to open it. And on the ceiling was a large vent, whirring fresh air inside.
“This is where you will be staying for the duration of the experiment,” the lady explained, “The air is currently fresh but after letting you get settled, we’ll inform you of when that changes.”
Nathan nodded.
She glanced over her clipboard. “Just to clarify, you do consent to remain in this room for this experiment, once we commence you will be unable to leave unless you use your right to withdraw.”
“Understood.”
“And,” she continued, “The intention of this experiment is to see how easily you are infected by an air-borne rhinovirus.”
She gestured to the vent above them, “As explained before, the air source of this vent will change- connecting you to a room housing an individual at the prime contagious stages of a rhinovirus. The air entering this room will therefore be filled with viral particles. You will be monitored each day to see if you get infected, how long it takes symptoms to manifest and how severe they are. Do you consent to likely being infected?”
Nathan swallowed, a ripple of electric shooting down from his stomach. He pictured the particles floating in through the vent, filling his lungs with nothing he could do about it.
“Y-yes I do.”
She smiled, checking off her clipboard and moving to the door, “We will be monitoring you 24/7, apart from the bathroom, so if you need anything, just ask, someone will be listening.”
Nathan wasn’t sure if that was such a comforting thought but at least he could piss in peace.
With that, the scientist slipped from the room. The door slid shut. Nathan walked across the room, the cool air of the vent passing over his head as he did. He shuddered. It wouldn’t stay clean for much longer.
On his desk were a couple books he had requested and a box of pre-emptive tissues. To control the experiment nothing but food and water would be slid under the door. He suddenly felt a little nervous.
Only one box of tissues? Usually when he got sick he sniffled and snorted his way through at least two.
Nathan sighed and plopped down on the bed, trying not to think of the dreadful head cold that was no doubt coming his way.
But, at the same time….the blood pumping through his veins wasn’t from dread. The tension that hung around his lower half, the dryness of his throat… That was from something else entirely.
“Hello, Mr Daniels, we’ll be changing the air source now. Please try to relax and remember we’re here if you need anything.” the speaker in the corner called out softly.
So it had begun.
Nathan thought of the person on the other side of the vent. The cold flooding their sinuses, making their eyes water. Their nose red and ravaged from days of swiping and rubbing at it. Breath hitching over and over again before they sneezed, releasing thousands of particles that were sucked up and wafted into his room.
Fuck. Heat was beginning to pool at the base of his belly. He’d have to stop thinking about it otherwise he’d have to dash off to the toilet already.
Above him, the vent wafted away.
He got out a book, flicking through the pages to pass the time.
How long before he got sick? If he got sick at all? How bad would it be? They’d said there were 3 different strands they were testing, each worse than the last. Or would he be inundated with all three at once- the colds battling for which one manifested the most?
His attempt at reading wasn’t going great. He sighed and plopped down onto the bed. This was going to be a long fucking week.
Day three:
Nathan slammed the book shut. He’d gotten through two already. He was so utterly bored.
It was strange, being almost entirely alone for this long. His only contact with the outside world was the twice-daily check ins from the doctor.
She’d feel around his lymph nodes, check the back of his throat, get him to cough lightly. The worst was when she peered up his nostrils to check for inflammation. She’d stand under him, shining a light, face so close to his- making him feel utterly exposed.
He swallowed. And swallowed again.
Oh.
There was a slight soreness at the back of his throat, a clagginess to his mouth that hadn’t been there this morning.
But maybe he’d just been breathing with his mouth open. He reached for the water bottle on his bedside table, gulping some water down.
Swallowed again. Huh. Maybe it was nothing then.
He reached to the side and picked up his third book, sighing tiredly. Lazing about all day seemed to suck the energy from him. God he was exhausted.
He glanced at his watch, only 8pm
“Errhm,” Nathan called out, clearing his throat as the sound caught awkwardly, “Am I okay to go to sleep?”
A beat.
The speaker crackled on.
“You can sleep whenever you need to Nathan.”
“Right… okay. Thank you.”
He yawned and rolled to the side, placing his glasses on the bedside table.
Above him the vent still whirred away as it had for the past three days. He wondered just how concentrated this room was with brisk particles at this point- swimming through the air like pollen.
But maybe he’d gotten lucky, maybe he’d been selected for the mild strand one and it wouldn’t even manifest. He was a relatively fit guy, tall and well-built, with any hope he wouldn’t get sick at all.
Nathan took a deep breath, drawing the infected air deep into his lungs, and shut his eyes.
Day four:
Fuck.
Nathan woke up to a pressure behind his eyes, a thickness in his nostrils and a raw pain at the back of throat. He sat up groggily, realising that he must have switched to breathing through his mouth overnight as it felt dry, tasting of the sickness working its way through him.
So much for getting through this unscathed. His throat constricted, a pulse seizing through his lungs before he was coughing bitterly into the back of his hand.
Fuck he desperately needed water. Through the fit still shaking his chest he fumbled for the water, sucking some down as he struggled to regain his breath. He winced, raising a hand to press against his neck, swallowing had grown painful.
Besides his throat there was a buzzing, distant but persistent, working its way through his sinuses. It would flare closer to the surface every now and again before retreating back into the depths of his nose.
Nathan sniffled, the congestion steadily building through his nose as he sat up now working its way down his face. He reached for a tissue and blew. Jesus, what the hell?
It was only the first morning of this stupid cold and yet half the bloody tissue was filled with mess. He blew until he could just about breath through his nose again. He took a few, shaky breaths through his nostrils, breathing in the air that was still pumping through the vent.
Infected air. Air that had carried the particles that had worked their way through his airways and into his system. Flowing through his blood. Filling his nostrils.
Were they still pumping in air densely concentrated with viral particles? Did that continue to have an effect once you were already sick? Or had they changed the air supply to some poor soul with a different cold that was now heading his way?
The tickle in his nose seared at the thought and he raised a knuckled fist to scrub at it.
There was a knock at the door.
“Nathan,” the woman’s voice said, “It appears you are in the early stages of infection. I will come in and perform the morning check up now if you’re ready?”
“Y-yes that’s fine.” he croaked out. His voice had taken on a deeper, gravelly quality.
The door pushed open and in walked the scientist, dressed in her usual Haz-mat suit.
“Good morning.”
“Morning.” He said, sitting up more firmly, running a hand through his brown wavy hair to at least look somewhat presentable.
She took a look at him and smiled softly, perching on the bed next to him.
“As suspected, Patient 6 seems to be in stage one of infection,” she said, voice tracked by the microphone in his room, “Upon visual examination, he appears weary, slight pallor to the skin, minimal irritation to the nose as of yet.”
Nathan could feel himself blushing at being scrutinised so closely, his every cold-riddled feature being taken in.
She learned forward and pressed her fingertips against his lymph nodes, “Lymph nodes swollen.”
“Could you open wide for me, Nathan?”
He did so, trying not to sniffle as she leaned closely and examined his throat.
“Back of the throat is inflamed, though more so than anticipated at this stage. Oh, you can close your mouth now.”
“Ri-right.”
“Could you cough for me, don’t worry about covering, I’m quite safe.”
God this was so embarrassing.
Eyes averting her gaze he coughed downwards. He’d only intended for it to be light and airy as it had been the days before but it caught something in his throat and he turned to cough wetly, forearm raised haphazardly.
“Cough is more advanced than typical,” she said, frowning slightly as she saw him still trying to catch his breath, “Have a drink, I’ll get you something hot after this.”
“Thangk you.” he sipped on the water slowly, the cool relief of it against his throat quickly dissipated as he swallowed painfully.
“How do you feel, Nathan?” she asked when he was done.
He blinked, rubbing at his eyes. His nose was threatening to spill over again, snaking meandering trails down his nose. He could feel the moisture peeking beyond the confines of his nostrils and felt embarrassment ripple through him. He snorted thickly, no way in hell he was going to do a gurgling blow right in front of her.
“Nathan?”
“Sorry.. Umm… tired? I guess. And achy. And my nose is uhh.. It’s really bothering me.”
She scribbled something down, “How so?”
“It’s err, so congested so quickly and really umm…runny.”
“That’s to be expected, feel free to blow anytime you need to.”
Nathan’s nose chose that precise moment to snort back up the mess loudly.
“R-right.”
“I’m going to check your nostrils now if that’s okay?”
“Oh, should I,” he swallowed, “Should I clear them?”
“You do whatever’s most comfortable.”
Shit, what should he do? It was either let out what would no doubt be a miserable, honking blow in front of her, or let her see up his nostrils in his current state. There'd probably be very little to see from the way they seemed to be stuffed so completely. But he just wanted this to be over.
“Alright, I’ll leave it then.”
She nodded and leant closer, getting out her torch and gently tilting his head back.
It was at that moment the itch that had been lazily stroking against the nerves in the back of his nose flared up. Loud, demanding. He could feel his features twisted and contorting. He battled desperately to hold his nose still.
She was so close, screen of the Hazmat suit right underneath him. She could probably see every shivery movement of his quaking nose. The tickle pulsed hungrily again, like fire, making tears form at the corners of his eyes. His lips parted softly. He felt himself gasp in a breath, once, twice.
“Hee-uhhh… Heehh—”
He was hitching more audibly now, chest rising and falling with the air sucked against his control in and out. And fuck she was still beneath him, seemingly oblivious to the way he was locked in all out war against his nose.
“H–huhh–aahh…..”
He couldn’t. He couldn’t. But he needed to so badly. All other thoughts left his brains as he was enraptured by the sneezy limbo he was frozen in.
“I-I– hhi—ehhh, I nee-UHHHH need…” he desperately tried to gasp out.
But there was a hand on his arm, holding him in place as her light flashed between his nostrils.
He could feel the mess streaming down his face, what was she even able to see at this point??
But shit. He was gonna—--he…was…
“HH’’EHHTSCHuhh–H’ETCH-uhhh…HI’Eshieww!” They barreled out of him, loud, scraping, rocking him forward with the force. But mostly, due to the thick congestion clogging his nostrils he’d so valiantly refused to blow, they were utterly, miserably, wet.
Nathan opened his eyes. Looked down.
Fuck.
Coating the hard plastic screen of her Hazmat suit was a thick glob of his snot. He could barely make out her face behind it as it slowly slid across the clear surface.
Humiliation rose through him like a fever, searing the tips of his ears.
“Oh.. oh my god, I’m so…I’m so sorry jesus, I’m-”
“Bless you, Nathan,” she said gently, reaching over and plucking him a stack of tissues, “That’s quite alright, we’ve intentionally infected you. You cannot help your symptoms.”
“I know but I-”
“There’s no harm done. I’ll simply have this cleaned.”
Nathan tried to calm himself down, realising with horror, strings of mess had escaped his nose and were yet to be wiped away. He buried his face into the wad of tissues, blowing thickly.
He never sneezed like that. So overpowering and demanding. Usually, he was able to stifle fairly well even without his hands. But those sneezes had a mind of their own, shooting out of him with unstoppable motion.
And he’d never sneezed so wetly before, so much snot seemed to be stored in the confines of his face.
And it was only supposed to be day one..how on earth was he this awfully sick already? How much worse was he going to get?
Nathan was glad the check up was over. Because ever since waking up and especially after that ordeal, the swelling in his pants had grown unbearable. He thanked the stars for the blanket covering his lower half. Seeing his own snot smeared across what was almost her face, the giddy sense of relief at that tickle finally being relieved was more than his cock could bear.
He blearily nodded through the rest of the check up, stumbling through another apology and watching her slip from the room.
Now alone, the bathroom door called his name. Blanket draped strategically around himself he hurried towards it.
Nathan noticed, with a heavy desire, his features were crumpling, his breaths growing staggered. He was going to sneeze, again.
Summary: Knowing that Vex is still disappointingly healthy, Percival tries once again to give her his cold despite feeling much worse than before. 3,923 words
N.S.F.W - minors do not interact!
Posted to Ao3 here
I don't have anyone I know to be a beta reader for this kind of material, but I do my best.
First chapter posted here
Second chapter posted here
Notes:
Some dialogue mildly inspired by something that good ol' Tarotgal wrote years ago. (I think it was a Tarotgal story...) Wherever you are, you have my thanks for years of enjoyment.
Most Likely final chapter - but other things are brewing in my head.
Question: I prefer male sneezes, but would any of you be interested in seeing more Vex snz? For me, it kind of loses something if there is no contagion risk, so I don't think a continuation will happen - but I could probably do it in another story.
ALSO Thanks to everybody who has commented on it, idk how to say thanks other than putting it here. Glad that you like it.
there’s something to be said about colds + septum rings… adjusting it and having to sneeze because everything’s chapped and sensitive, mess dripping off of it, trying to clean it gently as to not cause a fit…
Peering at their tissue with a mix of misery and disgust, because now they have to stick their fingers in there to save the damn thing.
(also someone walking in on them when they're trying to fish the small slippery thing out from the slime with their fingers, while sniffling, and blinking their eyes, looking like they need to sneeze soon)
Now imagine someone who has stretched their septum piercing by stacking a couple rings. No matter how much they wipe, their septum just feels WET and their poor nostrils are aching from their incessant wiping. Mortified, they resort to sliding the edge of a tissue in between each ring and FINALLY their septum feels dry…… but the gentle fluttering of that tissue set off a tickle all the way up through their sinuses. The resulting wave of sneezes sends even more snot streaming from their nostrils and forces a tear from one eye. Sighing, they shuffle off to the bathroom in search of some Vaseline. Hopefully that will alleviate some of the stinging from their chapped nose because they will NOT be trying that again soon. This is going to be a long 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.
I’m Shy @think-she-likes-colds - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
