#sick no snz

[groundcontrol21]

Sicktember #24

Prompt #24: “I Need You to Pull Over!”

Fandom: Merlin

Title: Stop and Go

Summary: On the road back to Camelot, Arthur gets sick. 

Notes/CW: Obviously since we are in the canon time of horses, it is the horse version of pulling over. CW: emeto. I tried my absolute best to keep all description to a minimum (bc I don’t like it either lol) so it’s generic sickfic levels of stuff, but still, that is the nature of the illness. 

Merlin sighed in contentment when he glimpsed the outline of the Camelot castle in the distance between the breaks in trees. After sleeping out in the forest for a few nights with Arthur, it was now only a small matter of time before he could return the prince to his room and be free of him for a few hours while he cleaned his armor. Arthur was in a particularly silent and sullen mood that day, and there was only so many times Merlin would ask him if everything was alright before moving on for both their sanities. 

Still, Merlin was not rid of the prince yet, and the woods were quite boring and quiet without any conversation, so he asked, “Have I told you about the girl in Ealdor who tied chickens together by their legs at night?”

“Yes.” 

“Are you lying because you think it will make me shut up and get you out of hearing this story?”

“It’s possible,” Arthur said, sounding distracted. 

Merlin clucked his tongue. “You shouldn’t do that, sire. It’s not honest, and besides, this is a good one. You’ll love it.”

“Oh, will I?”

Merlin could hear the eye-roll in Arthur’s voice, and he grinned. “Now, this girl, Morwenna, lived on a little farm on the outskirts of town and her parents had their own chicken coop. That’s where the chicken tying started, which, if you ask me, was a stroke of utter genius if she wanted to pass the blame, since you never expect a criminal to be that bold as to cause trouble in their own home right from the start. Or maybe she was just bored one day and decided to start there. Anyway, that’s how it started, on a day in midsummer, before it started to spread…”

Merlin spoke and spoke, and was so engrossed in his memories and in the very telling of this tale that he almost didn’t notice the whinny from behind him. “See,” he said, “even your horse finds it funny. Not surprising she has better taste than you.”

The only response Merlin got was another snort from the horse and the abrupt cessation of her hooves. “Arthur?” he called, looking over his shoulder. 

Merlin had turned just in time to see Arthur launch himself from his saddle and go stumbling into the brush, grasping at his stomach as though it might fall out through his chain mail. He tripped or fell or collapsed forward, but whatever the movement’s intentionality, the end result was that the branches and leaves of the shrubbery entirely obscured him. 

“Arthur!”

Merlin jumped from his horse with equivalent urgency, running to where Arthur had disappeared, ignoring the pounding of his heart as he batted aside branch after branch until at last he saw Arthur on his hands and knees. From the shakiness of Arthur’s limbs, the pallor of his skin, and the convulsiveness of his swallows, Merlin could tell the problem at once. 

He went to the prince and laid a hand across the nape of his neck, aiming to massage a bit to soothe the tight muscles there, but quickly transferred his hand to Arthur’s forehead with a prick of alarm. 

Arthur waved his hand in what was perhaps a weak and pathetic attempt to swat away his hand. “‘m fine,” he mumbled. “Leave off.”

Merlin shook his head. “You have a fever. Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

For the moment, Arthur must have been feeling better, for he sat back on his haunches and glared at Merlin with glassy eyes. “I’m not sick, it's just… Must be that rabbit you cooked for breakfast.”

“My rabbit?” Merlin said, offended. “That was exquisite. One of the best meals I have ever cooked, dare I say.”

Arthur gave a humorless chuckle. “The state of the bushes says otherwise.”

“If there was something wrong with it, I would be ill too,” Merlin said sensibly. “Are you finished?” 

When Arthur nodded, Merlin hauled him up to his feet, all too aware of the way the man swayed on the way up. “Come, let’s get back to Camelot.”

Arthur leaned against Merlin, letting the servant take his weight as though he had been injured, which did nothing at all to soothe Merlin’s worry. Lest the prince topple over and give himself a concussion on top of his present woes, Merlin propped Arthur against his horse while Merlin set to readying his own mount to carry two. 

But Arthur was not so far-gone as to lose his knightly perception. He narrowed his eyes at Merlin.  “What are you doing?”

“You’re riding with me,” Merlin said in a tone that brooked no argument. Of course, the princely prat opened his mouth to do just that, but Merlin cut him off. “Arthur, you’re swaying. There is no way I am letting you ride alone. Gaius would have my head if you got trampled.”

As was expected, Arthur put on a show of huffing and eye rolling, but he submitted nonetheless to riding with Merlin and seemed, from the way he relaxed against Merlin’s chest as they began the ride, grateful for the development. It spurred a blossom of tenderness in Merlin’s heart to have Arthur lean against him like this, and he blushed, instantly glad both that Arthur’s eyes were closed such that he could not see his servant’s cheeks color, and that Arthur had no powers with which to read minds. 

However, they hadn’t been riding long at all when Arthur’s face grew stark white and he reached back to grab a fistful of Merlin’s sleeve. “Merlin,” he said urgently. “I need you to stop.”

“What?”

But Arthur listed to the side with a heave, and it was all Merlin could do to keep him from falling out of the saddle. “Alright, alright, Arthur,” he cried, his arm twitching from supporting his weight as he pulled the horse to a stop. “Hold on!”

They had scarcely stopped moving before Arthur slid from the horse and directly down to his hands and knees, abandoning all pretext of the bushes this time. Merlin rubbed at his shoulders while they spasmed as he was sick, and thought that Camelot had never been so close and yet so far away. 

[warmasf]

Not snz but just general whump

The idea of someone literally “waking up with a fever” is so sweet to me. Just imagine whumpee at their partners house, having a slight headache and a weird feeling in their throat, but thinking nothing of it, taking a nap with partner and blaming it on being tired. In a few hours, whumpee wakes up to partner placing a cold flannel to their forehead and whispering their name into their ear.

“Hey, you gotta wake up baby, you’re burning up. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling good?” In a hushed voice.

Whumpee lets their eyes close as partner feels their cheeks and embrace them again. They feel terrible, but maybe waking up sick was the perfect catalyst for the love and care they so desperately desired.

[oh-no-my-hand-slipped]

Over the phone:

“Oh, honey, are you okay? You sound like you’ve been crying…do you need me to come over?”

“Ndo, I’b j-just really - snf! - c-cold all of a sudden. I think I…hhh’ KTCHIEW!…caughd something…”

“…I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

[snzyspencer]

When they know you’re sick so instead of asking “how are you doing?” They ask “how are you feeling?” >>>>>

[sakana-coldsnz]

cold symptoms doodles…🫠

[sneezarify]

My nose is a tickly mess and I can’t cope

On Friday at work, I had a constant tickle in my nose and was sneezing… silly me was excited, like oh I love sneezing, until later that evening my throat started getting sore. I have been doing everything in my power to stop getting sick! Which means I’ve been stuck in this pre-cold hitchy phase rather than getting to the sneezy phase! Help me!!!

[snifflesandchills]

I knowwww how mia I’ve been but hear me out. A really pretty boy with “a little cold”

his low, soft scratchy voice speaking quietly into your ear, just congested enough to hear the warmth of his n’s and m’s

the tip of his nose feels damp against your neck as he stifles a quick sneeze into it

he’s not sick enough to be clingy, but he’s sleepy enough to not be able to sleep without you

soft sniffles and coughs muffled into the shoulder of his worn crew neck, which is paired with a soft pair of plaid pajama pants

his bed scattered with hardly-used tissues

enduring childhood comfort shows with him under a heavy, fluffy blanket

his quiet, hoarse chuckles as the corny scenes come on

the sounds of the gentle breaths escaping past his lips as he falls asleep, and the sight of his chapped, red nose and sleep-tousled hair poking out above the covers

[hockeynoses]

"I'b r-really - huh - ihhh - hih’ERSSHH’IUE! ...sigk." The last word is a miserable groan into a handful of tissues.

[undercover-horn-blog]

Inspired by recent events: Somebody trying to take their temperature but failing, because they can't stop sneezing long enough for the thermometer to get a proper reading.

They try to stave off the sneeze until they hear the beeping noise, but... they lose the battle and quickly have to pull it out before then, so they can sneeze without hurting themselves. And ultimately they just give up on the project altogether, because they already know their body is too warm anyway.

[stormyweaver]

Nobody asked for this, but it's my OC Elliott. Have fun!

----

"Hehh!!-- Ihh- ihh- IHHH-- HIIISSHHH'HUUEE!! Ohh… sdf!-- HH'JSSCHHUuee!!" Elliott sniffled - a thick, viscous sound reminiscent of sludge far too packed to flow through the pipe it currently resided in - and winced at the 'bless you's' which echoed through the garage. Taylor spoke up first, as always, with a blow to Elliott's already fragile ego. "Jesus, you plan on stopping any time soon? I only have so many fingers to keep count!" Though a part of Elliott, a large part, wanted to beam his co-worker with an allen wrench, he knew that the comment was at least partially warranted. Ever since arriving to work, Elliott had been sneezing on and off; and that wasn't even including the sneezing before he'd gotten to the auto shop. Pausing to cough into his elbow, the brunette decided to opt for non-violence - and instead threw up a not-so-friendly gesture towards his fellow mechanic. "Maybe if you actually focused on working instead of counting my sneezes, you'd leave on time for once," With another forceful, snorting intake of air, Elliott laid back down on the bench beneath his back. It felt cold and rough beneath his aching muscles, the skin shivering every so often, sticky with sweat. He was genuinely surprised he hadn't soaked through the entirety of his shirt already. Despite his malaise and slight dizziness, he continued working on the car's suspension. A few minutes in, he blinked blearily, before a panicked, albeit hazy expression settled onto his face. No no, not again, he was almost done! Rosy nostrils fluttered as his chest rose with a sharp inhale.

"Ehhh--!! EHH'JSSCHH'HIEW! HH'RRRSCHH'HIIEW!!Ohhh…"

The sneezed threatened to bolt him entirely upright, and he barely managed to restrain the strong expulsions from doing so. Still, his nose still got it's vengeance: glistening trails of mess clung to his upper lip, along with a heavy spray settling onto his face and shirt. Elliott swore under his breath, then went rigid as Taylor piped up again.

"Thirty-six!" Fucking hell. He'd probably beat his record at this point, and it was only... 11:30am. Today was gonna be long.

[groundcontrol21]

Sicktember #23

Prompt #23: Tepid Bath

Fandom: Merlin

Title: Night Fever

Summary: Merlin can’t use his magic to heal Arthur, but perhaps his company is just as potent of a cure. 

It was well, well past midnight. A sliver of moon that rose high in the frosty night above Camelot, but in Arthur’s chambers the temperature, if nothing else, was pleasant, the flames from the hearth and the flickering candles casting their dancing glow across the twilit room. 

Merlin knelt in the shadows, hunched over a metal tub as he carefully and quietly whispered the bath water therein to a suitable temperature. Arthur’s ailment was not magical, and so no magic could be used directly to cure him, but that would not stop Merlin from using it in his treatment in other ways: to save time, to provide more comfort. He dipped his fingers in the water and shook his head. Still too cool. He didn’t want to shock Arthur—gods knew the man’s heartbeat was frantic enough—only lower his fever slightly. 

“Hléowe,” Merlin murmured, his eyes glowing golden in concentration as the temperature rose slowly. A shifting noise from behind drew Merlin’s attention, and he turned over his shoulder to look at Arthur, who had thrown off all his blankets and furs and lay spread-eagle on his back. Even in the low light Merlin could see his eyes glisten with fever, the rapid rise and fall of his chest. 

“So hot, Merlin,” Arthur moaned. He shifted again, weakly, and whined when the movement brought him no relief. 

“I know, sire,” Merlin said, swallowing down the worry that rose in his chest and made him feel ill himself. “I know. The bath is almost ready.”

Merlin tested the water once more and found it lukewarm. He dried his hands on a towel, and went to Arthur’s bedside, stopping for a moment to brush damp hair away from the prince’s sweaty forehead. 

“Come, sire,” he said softly, biting his lip at the pallor of Arthur’s skin, the angry scarlet of his cheeks. “Let’s get you in the bath.”

Arthur made no sound, but allowed Merlin to maneuver him, limp and weak and gangly, out of bed and over to the basin. His head lolled and his uncooperative weight seemed double his usual, so Merlin muttered a few words to make him feel lighter, confident that Arthur was too lost in his illness to notice. 

Merlin deposited him gently in the water, guiding him as he sank down, but he had hardly been in the tub for a few seconds when Arthur started shivering so violently he was almost seizing. His eyes flew open, wide in alarm. 

“Freezing!” Arthur grit out, his teeth locked against his tremors. 

“It’s not,” Merlin assured him, trying to coax him downward even as Arthur did his best to pull himself up, out of the water. Merlin dipped a handkerchief in the water and tried to wipe down Arthur’s face with it, but the man jerked away. “It only feels that way because you’re—Arthur, Arthur please stop,” Merlin begged as Arthur thrashed, trying to duck away from Merlin’s hands. “We have to get your fever down.”

Soon, though, Arthur was too weak to keep up the fight, his protestations fading to slight grimaces and then nothing at all as Merlin wiped cool water across his hot skin. “There we go,” Merlin sighed as Arthur deflated, reclining back against the walls of the tub.  “That’s it, just relax.”

Merlin soaked and re-soaked the handkerchief, squeezing out droplets of the tepid water to cool the places the bath alone could not reach: chest, neck, head. Arthur sighed now at the ministrations, the coolness seeming now to soothe rather than agitate him, and Merlin sent a prayer of thanks to any of the gods who were listening. 

A hand caught Merlin’s as he gently splashed water on Arthur’s chest. “Merlin?” His eyes were glassy, lethargic, but more lucid than they had been, and he watched Merlin innocently, like a child who depended on him entirely for protection. 

The openness of his gaze sent warmth stirring in Merlin’s chest. He took Arthur’s hand in his own and stroked his fingers over Arthur’s knuckles. “Yes, sire?”

Arthur watched him for a moment longer before his mouth twitched sleepily, as though he were trying to smile but hadn’t the energy, and his eyes drifted shut. “Mmm,” he hummed, sounding content. 

“That’s it, Arthur,” Merlin whispered. “Just rest. I’ve got you.” He stroked Arthur’s hair again, surreptitiously feeling his forehead and finding the skin marginally cooler.  He smiled. “And I always will.” 

[warmasf]

Thinking about blankets and their many uses

A blanket draped around whumpees shoulders by an increasingly worried caretaker, both sitting by thr raging fire as whumpee shivered, eyes glazed over with fever

A blanket fully encasing whumpee as they lay in bed with an awful cold, because if they breathe in the cold, dry air in their room, they’ll undoubtedly sneeze, which hurts their head and floods their nostrils

Blankets piled up on a feverish, shakey whumpee by the caretaker. They try to mutter a word of thanks, but their voice is too shot to enunciate more than a mere “th’nk y-hou”

The corner of a blanket being used as a tissue by cold-ridden, sneezy, sniffly whumpee. They muffle harsh,wet sneezes and coughs into the plush fabric and wallow in their misery, knowing that they have something soft to take their pain.

[bultaoreunheyyy]

Sleepyhead

Title: Sleepyhead

Word Count: 2261

Summary: Nothing can wake a sick Taehyung up when he’s sleeping, except for maybe a sneeze. 

Sickie: Taehyung (snz/cold/flu)

Caretakers: Jimin, plus the others 

A/N: I wrote this with Taehyung as the sickie, since he was #2 in this poll, and also wrote it with Jungkook (#1 in poll) for an upcoming scene in long sickfic w/out title so stay tune for that soon!

Jimin’s legs are falling asleep.

He shifts a bit back and forth on the couch, testing how much he’s going to be able to move without waking Taehyung, who’s currently using his lap as a pillow, but Taehyung only keeps snoring and doesn’t react in the slightest.

Jimin sets his book on the arm of the couch and slowly unfolds his legs from their crossed position. He stretches one foot out in front of him, then the other, pointing his toes forward and sighing in relief at the pull in his aching muscles. He shifts again, leaning slightly to one side until he feels a satisfying pop in his back. He rolls his shoulders a few times for good measure and then carefully palms Taehyung’s forehead.

Taehyung is still warm, still feverish, but it’s to be expected. Jimin cards his hands through the sleeping man’s hair, smoothing it all back from his face until it’s fanned out around his head. 

Suddenly, Taehyung’s nose twitches, and Jimin sighs because he knows what’s coming next. He reaches over and plucks two tissues from the box that’s resting between Taehyung’s arm and the back of the couch, bringing them up to Taehyung’s face as he waits for the inevitable.

Taehyung’s current snore breaks off into a half-snort, half-cough, and his eyelashes flutter. His nose twitches again, his reddened nostrils flaring wide, and then Taehyung sniffles hard enough that his nose scrunches up.

“Poor thing,” Jimin murmurs as he watches Taehyung’s struggle. “Can’t even get a nap in without needing to sneeze.”

Taehyung’s lips part and he sniffles again, the sound more insistent this time. Jimin tucks the tissues around his nose and Taehyung’s eyes open just a fraction.

“Hhng,” he whines softly, congestion stopping the sound from coming out fully. 

Jimin peers down at him. “Hey, Tae. Go ahead and sneeze. I’ve got tissues.” 

“Huh?” Taehyung’s brows furrow.

Jimin pats him on the chest. “Go ahead.”

“Go…” Taehyung pulls in a shaky breath. “Hhg?”

With a soft laugh, Jimin nudges the tissues against Taehyung’s nose, but the sneeze never comes. Instead, Taehyung lets out a tiny, weak cough and then blinks hard several times, trying to keep his eyes open for long enough to focus on Jimin’s face. 

“That tickles,” he whispers, bringing one hand up to paw at his nose. His hand bumps Jimin’s hand and he whimpers when he can’t push the offending ticklish tissues away. 

“Oh,” Jimin chuckles, quickly pulling the tissues away from his nose. “I thought you were gonna sneeze. Sorry. Go back to sleep.” 

After a long pause, Taehyung tries to open his eyes again. “Don’t wanna…sleep.” 

“Do you want to blow your nose first? Here, go ahead.” Jimin situates the tissues around Taehyung’s nose once again. “Blow.” 

Taehyung snorts and sniffles but does not blow his nose.

Waiting patiently, Jimin pats Taehyung on the chest again. Taehyung doesn’t respond. With one hand, Jimin fishes his phone out of his pocket to text Jungkook, asking him to bring a cool compress and some other supplies.

Just when Jimin thinks Taehyung has fallen asleep again, he turns his head just slightly and sniffles wetly before he murmurs, “Jimin?”

“I’m right here. Go ahead and blow your nose.”

“Wanna go on a walk,” he murmurs instead after another full minute of silence.

“A what?” Jimin laughs. “Taehungie, dear, you can’t even stand right now. No walks today, okay?”

Taehyung doesn’t hear him. He’s already asleep again.

He doesn’t truly wake up after that for a few more hours, instead drifting in and out of consciousness, feverish and exhausted. 

During that time, Jungkook brings a new fever patch and a cool compress along with a much needed cup of coffee for Jimin.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Jimin moans into his coffee cup. 

“You’re gonna get sick too, you know,” is Jungkook’s reply. While he’s been very attentive to both his and Taehyung’s needs, continuously checking on both of them and bringing anything Jimin asks for, he’s worried about germs and he’s sure to let Jimin know everytime he comes near.

“I have a great immune system,” Jimin counters. 

Jungkook nods knowingly and leans on the back of the couch, his hand traveling to the back of Jimin’s neck. He massages there for a few minutes, and Jimin moans because he’s been sitting on the couch for the entire day and Jungkook’s strong hands know exactly how to find the knots in the neck.

When he’s done, Jungkook reaches down and briefly runs his fingers through Taehyung’s hair in a comforting gesture, but he’s quick to pull away. 

“I’m gonna go wash my hands,” he says. “And go breathe some fresh air. Text me if you need anything.”

“Will do,” Jimin replies, smiling gratefully. 

Taehyung doesn’t move a muscle, staying sound asleep throughout the entire exchange.

It’s a little while later when Seokjin brings Taehyung’s next dose of medicine out to the living room. 

“Has he been this warm this entire time?” He asks Jimin, hand on Taehyung’s forehead.

“No.” Jimin shakes his head. “It’s just in the past fifteen minutes or so that he’s been pretty hot. It’s definitely time for more meds.” 

Seokjin slides his hand down to cup Taehyung’s cheek. Taehyung’s eyelashes flutter, but he doesn’t wake, and Seokjin just doesn’t have the heart to wake him up. “He still has fifteen more minutes until he’s due for another dose,” he reasons, pressing the backs of his fingers to the side of Taehyung’s warm neck with a frown. “I’ll go grab him some water first.”

Seokjin brings water and then leaves after about ten minutes, promising to return soon but letting Jimin have the task of waking Taehyung up. 

“I just don’t have the heart to wake him,” is his excuse when he looks at Taehyung’s flushed, sleeping face.

“I understand.” 

After Seokjin leaves, Jimin realizes he’s starting to sweat under the warmth of Taehyung’s body. He also needs a bathroom break, so he eases himself off the couch and stretches his arms above his head. Taehyung snuffles but otherwise remains asleep. When he returns from the bathroom, it takes Jimin another five minutes to properly coax Taehyung awake, and he only stays awake long enough to let Jimin prop him upright and tip the medicine into his mouth, and then he swallows one single sip of water before he’s out again. 

Taehyung is still snoring away in Jimin’s lap when Hoseok and Yoongi return home from their long meeting. 

As soon as Hoseok is through the door, Jimin can hear him loudly explaining something to Yoongi, boisterous and full of energy like usual. When Yoongi spots Taehyung asleep on the couch, though, he puts a finger to his lips. It takes Hoseok a second to see him, and when he realizes he spins around.

“Oh! Sorry,” he whispers when he sees Taehyung and Jimin on the couch.  

Jimin just smiles and goes back to his book, tightening his arm around Taehyung protectively. Taehyung doesn’t even stir. 

When Namjoon comes to find Taehyung, he’s still sleeping in Jimin’s embrace.

“I was thinking of making him a doctor appointment,” Namjoon tells Jimin, keeping his voice low. He settles on the arm of the couch and reaches down, rubbing his hand up and down Taehyung’s arm. “I don’t really want to do it without his input but I haven’t been able to catch him awake all day.”

Jimin chuckles and sets his book down. “I say go ahead and make it. Earlier he was agreeable to the idea of going to get shots and maybe an IV if he wasn’t feeling better. 

Namjoon nods. “Okay. Will do. We can always change it later.” Glancing down at Taehyung, fondness mixed with a bit of worry in his expression, he sighs. “And how are you feeling?”

“So far, so good.” Jimin gives a thumbs up. He reaches down and brushes his fingers over Taehyung’s forehead. “Hopefully I’ll avoid catching this. He’s been having a rough time.” 

Taehyung murmurs something in his sleep and Jimin draws his hand back. Taehyung remains asleep, though, and soon he goes back, cupping his face and rubbing his thumb back and forth across his fever-hot cheek. 

“I’ll text you the details in case you want to share with Tae when he wakes up and I'm not here,” Namjoon says, and then he leaves to make the phone call. 

Jimin picks up his phone and sees that he has three texts from Jungkook, all asking if he wants something: want me to pick up more tissues at the store? and want to go to the movies on saturday if tae is better? and I’m by the cafe do u want another coffee?

He’s replying to the texts– yes, sounds fun, and YES PLEASE– when he hears a sound across the room.

“Oh.” Yoongi’s standing in the space between the couch and the kitchen, a cup of steaming hot tea cradled between his hands. “I didn’t realize he was still sleeping.”

“Poor thing is so tired,” Jimin confirms.

Yoongi walks over and sets the tea on the coffee table and then disappears back into the kitchen. A short while later, he returns with two more mugs, one for himself and one for Jimin.

They sit and sip on their tea. Taehyung sleeps on. Even when they’re done, and Jimin is ready to get back to his book, Taehyung is still asleep, snoring away with his head in Jimin’s lap. 

“I’ll make him more when he wakes up,” Yoongi says with a small smile. He picks up the mug, freezing when Taehyung suddenly sniffles.

Jimin looks down and sees Taehyung’s eyelashes fluttering. He reaches down and rubs his chest, waiting for him to fall back asleep or wake up. Yoongi sets the mug back down on the coffee table in case it’s the latter, and Taehyung’s lips part with a small whimper.

“Hey,” Jimin says, rubbing his chest some more. “It’s okay, Tae. You can go back to sleep if you want.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows furrow. “Nnndhh.”

“Shh, you’re okay.” 

Taehyung’s nostrils flare, and Jimin’s eyes widen. “Oh!” He quickly grabs a tissue and holds it up to Taehyung’s face. Nose twitching, Taehyung sucks in a breath, and then his eyes flutter open only to slam shut in the next second as a massive sneeze barrels out of him.

The sneeze is so loud that it makes Jimin’s ears ring and Yoongi, despite having seen it coming, clasps a hand to his chest in surprise. 

A minute later, Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin all come out to check on Taehyung.

“Sounds like someone is awake,” Namjoon says with a smile.

“That was some sneeze, Tae,” Hoseok comments. “Bless you!”

Jimin and Yoongi chuckle and watch as Taehyung sniffles and paws at his nose, eyes half closed. 

“Still waking up,” Namjoon amends his earlier statement.

There’s a sudden loud knock on the door– it sounds more like a kick– and Seokjin hurries over to check the peephole. He opens the door immediately to reveal Jungkook standing there with two trays filled with various to-go beverages. 

“Sorry,” he grins. “I didn’t have any hands to knock.” He looks past Seokjin and spots Taehyung sitting up on the couch, hair sticking up in all directions as he scrubs at his red nose. “Oh, shit, did I wake him up?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “Nope, he just woke up a few minutes ago.” He takes one of the trays and carries it into the living room.

Jungkook passes out iced coffees to everyone, and a cup of hot tea to Taehyung. “The barista said it’s sweet, but good,” he says, and Taehyung smiles blearily up at him before taking a sip. He still looks half asleep, and a minute later he’s handing Jimin his cup and sliding back into a reclining position. 

“Anyone want to keep me and Taehyungie company?” Jimin asks the room. “We can put on a movie?”

Jungkook nods and chooses the seat furthest from the pair. He pulls his knees to his chest, sipping on his iced coffee and giving a pleased hum.

Taehyung is asleep again before the movie even starts. They keep the volume low, but Taehyung is a dead weight against Jimin, snoring softly and not so much as flinching even when one of them laughs or the movie gets loud. As the movie is ending, though, he moans softly, his eyelashes fluttering. Jimin runs his fingers through his hair and smiles down at him.

“You waking up, sleepyhead?” He asks.

Taehyung’s face scrunches up. He doesn’t open his eyes, but he rolls over halfway until he’s on his side, nuzzling his nose against Jimin’s stomach. He sniffles, a low whine in his throat when Jimin pats his hip.

“Let’s get you to your bed, hmm?”

Very slowly, Taehyung opens one eye, then the other. He peers up at Jimin and hunches forward like he’s trying to curl up into a ball. He starts to move one hand up towards his face, but it smacks into Jimin’s elbow. He whimpers congestedly in frustration.

And then, he sneezes.

It’s not particularly loud, as far as a Taehyung-sneeze goes, but it is aimed directly at Jimin, completely uncovered, and forceful enough that it shakes the entire couch. 

For a moment, there’s nothing but silence.

“Wow,” Jungkook eventually says from across the room. He has a blanket wrapped around his entire head and body like he thinks it might help shield him from the germs. “Ohh, yeah. You are so gonna get sick, Jimin.” 

[snzyspencer]

probably unintentional- haha that's up to you though!

Finally getting around to responding to this ask about unintentionally sneezing into someone’s mouth. I’ve been trying to think of snzarios that aren’t the typical “two people are about to kiss and one person sneezes” so have my first of hopefully a few different scenarios.

CW: Contagion, illness

Person A and Person B are in the midst of a wrestling match. B is recovering from a cold, but their nose is still dripping like a faucet.

They’re squared up with A, they can feel snot running down their upper lip, causing a tickle.

They can feel a sneeze coming, but they just have to wait a few more seconds until the match is over.

B has pinned A to the mat; A’s mouth is open, panting with exertion. The seconds seem to stretch into minutes— B barely has time to recognize that they are going to sneeze before they let out a strong, wet sneeze right into A’s face and their open mouth. Two more sneezes follow, and B is barely able to move their head to the side so these ones graze the side of A’s face, spraying the mat below them.

B swears their cold isn’t contagious anymore, but Person A and anyone who rolls around on that snotty mat afterwards would beg to differ when— after a day or two has passed— they wake up with equally dripping noses.

[sakana-coldsnz]

*…ᴍᴇʀʀʏ ᴄʜʀɪsᴛᴍᴀs…*🦌•┈ ✨ ┈ 🌟┈🎄┈🌟┈✨┈•🦌

A reindeer with a red nose because he caught a cold🦌🦌🦌

Fragments of a Christmas Story (sick scenes only)🥹

[sneezarify]

TL,DR enjoy a desperate hitching wet sneezing fit xx

I’m sick again. Yesterday was the sneeziest day yet. Yesterday included mini fits of sneezes, plus Verrryyy regular intense single or double sneezes. My nose got no peace from the moment I woke up until about 3pm when I finally took a nap. Basically a long way to say some sneeze content is incoming.