#One snz

[kitti-bun]

I decided I wanted to make my first wav since it’s been on my mind for a while now enjoy 😊

Also made a YouTube https://www.youtube.com/@BunnSnz u can follow if you want 🙂

[iwanttoleavethisblankbuticant]

little collection of my brain tangles, relating to my OCs that I previously abandoned… part 2

Wow, I wrote again. Who would have thunk it. Just an fyi these posts aren’t connected beyond they have my oc’s in them. This is just my one shots for my oc’s basically. Anyways on with the fic. Hopefully this one won’t be neglected like part 1…. Hopefully.

TW: swearing, gay, sickness, coughing, brief mention of parental induced mental trauma and neglect, one sneeze (I’m sorry, my brain isn’t braining on the sneeze stuff idk why it just wants to write fluff and angst…)

———————————————————————

Knox woke up with scratchy throat. Nothing to horrible. It could be put to ease with sips of water though out his day. It wasn’t an inconvenience, it wasn’t a problem. He didn’t pay much mind to it. That was then. Now it’s now. And his throat hurts. It takes up all of his focus, he coughing constantly and he can feel the beginnings of an itch in his sinuses. Least to say, Knox was not having a good time. He didn’t particularly want to go to the doctors, it took a long time, most the time nothing was really wrong with him, it was a long drive, sitting in the germ infested lobby probably would only give him more illness. But he would go if he needed to. With that in mind, he wondered out into the living room. There he spotted Mackie.

“Ma-” he immediately starts to cough and hack, doing so into the cuff of his sleeve.

“Mackie” he finishes, his voice so scratchy Mackie could hear his pain. Between the hacking coughs and the pitiful state of his roommate, Knox had all his attention.

“Yeah?” Mackie questions.

“Can you look at my tonsils?” Knox’s chokes out.

“Sure, come’er” Mackie says, using his soft voice that is reserved for vulnerable matters alone.

Knox nodes and stumbles up to the couch where Mackie’s sitting. Tiredly he sits down beside him. 

“Come on, lay your head down bub.” Mackie coos gently, patting his lap. 

Knox hums in response and lays down on the couch, head resting on Mackie’s lap. 

“Say ‘ahhh’” Mackie whispers fondly, looking down at him with a soft smile.

Knox’s starts too. Then his breath hitches and he turns his head to the left so he’s facing away from Mackie. He hitches for about a minute, Mackie waiting patiently. But the sneeze never comes. After a minute or so, Knox tentatively moves his head so he’s facing upwards once again. Then he opens his mouth for Mackie to take a look.

Mackie, not saying a word but understanding, leans over Knox and looks down his throat. Sure enough, his tonsils are swollen and inflamed. 

“Poor thing…” Mackie coos, stroking his head.

“You ought to go to the doctor.” Mackie adds, a certain gentleness in his voice. 

Knox turns his head to look at Mackie

“Yeah-” Knox starts but the once forgotten sneeze rears it’s head all of a sudden. 

“Hurrshchu!” Knox snaps forward with a sneeze, right into Mackie’s uncovered belly, having been wearing only his binder.

“Shit. Sorry.” Knox mumbles, sounding disappointed in himself.

“I didn’t mean too-” but he’s cut off.

“Aww, it’s alright. Your sick, it’s to be expected. I just want you feeling better.” Mackie interrupts.

“Now, how about I call you in a doctors appointment. Then I’ll drive you there. That sound good?” 

All Knox could do is nod his head as tears well up in his eyes. He hadn’t ever been taken care of like this. From the time he turned 10 Knox had been expected to do things for himself because he’s a man. 

Maybe it was the fever, maybe it was just a freak occurrence. But Knox let a few tears slip as Mackie called and made an appointment for him. 

The soonest he could go was tomorrow morning, so Knox began to get up and go to his room. Mackie had other plans.  He looped his arm around Knox waist and pulled him back down.

“Where do you think you’re going? You can’t just cry then expect me not to cuddle you.” Mackie says with a grin.

Knox wanted to say so many words of thanks but his throat wouldn’t allow it. So he just nods and sinks back into Mackie.

 Not long later Asher and Vex get home from their separate work places. 

“Wha??? Cuddles without me? How dare. Move your feet, I’m joining.” Asher announces. 

“I’m sick” Knox’s warns.

“That doesn’t mean you can pick your feet up for two seconds so I can sit down.” Asher say with a smile. Knox giggles lightly, the giggles quickly turning into coughs. Once he’s done coughing and laughing, he picks his feet up and Asher slips under him. Now Knox is laying on top of the both of them, feet in Asher’s lap where he teasingly tickles him, head in Mackie’s lap where he plays with his hair. And where’s Vex in all this? He’s in the kitchen, scrolling through Walmarts app and preemptively buying soups for when they all inevitably get sick.

[eclown4hire]

it boy

[temporarilyunspokensneezes]

Handing someone a tissue because they keep sniffling, only for the timing to accidentally be perfect as they immediately use it to sneeze into

[feverfcking]

nsfw warning ahead obvs

[alrunaaa]

n/anami do you need some help there

[dsnzfb]

"I knew you were getting a cold!"

"What makes you say that?"

"h-hhuh-hHITSSHHOOo!! Ugh, you gave it to me."

[nametakensff]

The thought of a man in a suit going about his day whilst sneezing uncontrollably and desperately from a teasing cold has me feeling a little insane rn. I'd like to force this imaginary man to relax for one fucking second because he clearly needs a break (and is sneezing his germs all over the place); when he finally complies, I'm pulling his cock out of his pants and doing whatever he needs to have the orgasm he deserves for being such a hard-working, diligent boy despite his tickly nose. Happy monday morning, btw

[sf-libet]

in a bit of a sadistic mood.

in a mood for the burn. the scent of spice burning through your nasal passages. pepper's the obvious, rough kernels setting your delicate nasal passages ablaze, assaulting your most sensitive and receptive flesh with spice, making your nose feel like an inferno.

it hurts, but in the same breath, it inflicts you, horribly, viciously, with an intense need. the burning creates urgency--your nose needs to release, to force it all out, to protect itself from their onslaught, and to do so it will bend your will all the more frantically, drawing you to gasp, in pain and desperation, forcing you to recoil, twitch, to shut your eyes with increasing strength, wincing, tears rushing down your cheeks, snot suddenly dripping from your nose--you sniff out of reflex, only making it worse, delaying the trail by a moment as it continues running, unabated, pathetically from your nose.

and your breath hitches, shamefully, uncontrollably, unstoppably, little sounds of increasing vulnerability escaping, your voice driven higher and higher, gasping and whining from your lips as the burning gets worse, overtaken by the increasing need to sneeze, until finally, you can't hold it anymore--you don't want to, there's a small part that's relieved--you can't help yourself, sneezing over and over--intense, violent sounds bursting from you, forcing yet more snot pouring from your nose.

you gaze in the mirror, utterly ruined, and from what? a little pepper?

and yet, you hear the shaker again.

[cattewife]

thinking about,,, drunk sneezes

not only the possibility of sensitivity to wine/etc itself but just. the alcohol fuzziness meaning maybe they let a sneeze creep up on them without noticing, and the lack of inhibitions meaning they let it out without any shame they may usually have..... maybe even being more dramatic than usual, louder, bending at the waist, dazed after.... accepting care they may usually deny because they are drunk and happy and vulnerable

[slightlyunconventional]

hi! i received an ask about making a snz prompts list, and it seemed like a cool idea so im gonna do it !!

slightlyunconventional’s prompt list debut 🪻

(these won’t have any particular theme or anything, just some nice prompts/scenarios that i myself enjoy writing so you might too :3 feel free to use these and i would love to see if anyone writes anything)

☀️ a character waking up to the sun streaming in through their window and having a photic reaction

❓ a character finding out for the first time that they’re allergic to something (their first time encountering a certain animal/flower etc)

🥂 character(s) going to a formal event and everywhere they turn there are people with expensive and strong perfumes on - one or both of the characters being sensitive to it

🔊 a character with typically soft/subdued sneezes catching a cold that turns their sneezes massively more harsh and uncontrollable

🧴 strongly scented beauty/bath products causing a character to sneeze - do they realise right away what’s triggering it, or does it take a while (or perhaps a tip from someone else)?

🫧 a character running a bath for their sick partner, then sitting beside the tub keeping them company whilst they soak - a cold bath for a high fever, or a hot bath for the chills

🌙 a character waking in the middle of the night to find the other side of the bed empty, then finding their partner having a sneezing fit in a different room having left to avoid waking the other one up

❤️‍🩹 a character encouraging their sick partner to stop stifling all their sneezes (maybe it makes them sneeze even more, maybe it worsens the pressure in their sinuses, maybe it amplifies the headache they already have)

☕️ the steam from a mug of hot tea teasing sneezes from a sick character

🔥 a character realising their partner has a fever by feeling the heat of their skin by accident - holding their face to kiss them, feeling their skin when they cuddle in bed, etc

🕰️ a character having to hold back/stifle all day (their job? anxiety/insecurity of sneezing around people? not wanting to spread their cold if they have one? your choice!) and finally getting to let loose once they’re home, sneezes tearing through them unrestrained

💫 a character with the kink inducing their partner, instructing them to hold back for as long as possible (my favourite scenario to read/write. can you tell)

💐 a character with awful hayfever going to a florist’s shop to buy flowers for their partner

🏖️ a character coming down with a cold in the middle of summer - they can’t appreciate the warm weather because they’re wracked with chills

⛓️‍💥 a character with a cold turning down all help/care they are offered, under the pretence that they’re fine on their own, until the end of the day when they end up collapsing (metaphorically or physically)

🩹 a character sneezing for whatever reason whilst they are injured (so much potential here - a broken/bloody nose that they can’t even touch to quell the itch, broken ribs that clench with a spike of pain at each outburst, an injured arm that hurts to cover or stifle with… endless possibilities)

🦋 a nonhuman/semi-human character not being used to sneezing finds they’ve come down with a cold, or developed an allergy

🍷 alcohol making a character sneeze, but they keep drinking, and as they get tipsier, their sneezes become more indulgent and unrestrained

💤 a character about to fall asleep, or who had just woken up, and their drowsiness finds its way into their sneezes

🕯️a character in the candle/perfume/etc section of a store, sniffing each one whilst their partner (who insisted on coming along) sneezes helplessly beside them, assuring them it isn’t the candles/perfume/etc when it most certainly is

i’ve never done a post like this before, so i hope these were okay! if anyone uses any of these i would love to read what you write, too! i also added a different emoji for each one incase anyone wanted to use it as an ask game

[sickosdotjpg]

[ocs] between the two of them, they almost have an entire outfit

(pls don't reblog to non-kink blogs!)

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Noticing (M, cold)

Ok, so I got an idea and ran with it and it came out as 4.5k words with no sneezing until 2.5k words in (apologies). But this was a super fun write! In it, Reed and Greyson are newly moved in together and Greyson realizes Reed has some quirks he didn't know about. Sick Greyson, if you make it all the way to the snz then I promise he is pretty miserable by the end lmao. I hope you all enjoy, I know I've been MIA for a few weeks, I'm hoping to be around more but in the meantime I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one. Anyway, enjoy!

CW: Male snz, cold, some coughing. A lil relationship angst. Nothing too crazy in this one.

Noticing

The moment they moved in together, Greyson realized that Reed was… let’s just say a different breed of human than he was used to cohabitating with.

This wasn’t to say that a different breed was bad; quite the opposite, in most ways that mattered. Every roommate Greyson ever had could have been affectionately referred to as a swamp garbage monster from hell; dishes were done by Greyson and only him, and that was when he could actually get to them. Laundry littered the floor of the apartment, and not just the bedrooms but the living room and even kitchen floors, and the fridge would’ve been better classified as a biomedical waste bin.

Then there had been his brief stint of life with Collin. Collin wasn’t a swamp monster, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a monster at all; Collin was what Greyson called the ‘everything-in-its-place’ monster. There wasn’t a single day that went by in their month-long living partner stint where Collin wasn’t berating Greyson about his toothbrush being on the wrong side of the sink, or his shoes being on the wrong side of the closet. As disgusting as it was, Greyson knew that if push came to shove he’d pick a million garbage roommates over a single monster of Collin’s variety.

Greyson had made it a point throughout his late twenties and into his thirties to live alone if he could, even if it meant taking the train an hour one way to work every day. He’d enjoyed his time alone, having everything where he wanted it, a home that most would call a bachelor pad, but without all the grime. Having something just for himself, especially after the disaster that was Collin, had felt safe. Comfortable. Easy.

The decision to move in with Reed had felt easy and comfortable too when he’d agreed to do it, though. It had felt safe, and he knew it was; it was just hard to give up the life he was used to, especially since he was once again moving into someone else’s space. The new apartment was… incredible. But it was Reed’s.

Reed’s life revolved almost completely around his apartment, Greyson quickly realized. His boyfriend worked from home, and worked a lot – there were nights when Greyson would stumble out of bed at three a.m. to pee, only to realize Reed was in his office typing away.

“If I get an idea, I have to write it out,” Reed had explained one morning when Greyson confronted him about it. “If I wait and go back to bed, it’ll be gone.”

Greyson could understand this; after all, he kept a notebook on him at all times for writing down ideas for menus or recipes. Creative force struck when it struck, he supposed. What he couldn’t understand was the absolutely insane schedule his boyfriend stuck to during the day.

“Honey, you don’t work from home so it’s hard for you to understand,” Reed had said when Greyson asked about the hour-by-hour, day-by-day schedule Reed kept on a bulletin board over his desk. “You really have to keep yourself on task in this line of work.”

“Yeah, I get that, babe,” Greyson said. “But I mean… you’re scheduling bathroom breaks. You work next to your bathroom.”

Reed had shrugged. “Sometimes I forget.”

Sometimes you forget?? Greyson found himself turning this idea over and over in his head the day after his boyfriend had uttered it. When Elijah asked him what he was so distracted by, Greyson couldn’t help but ask, “Have you ever forgotten to go to the bathroom?”

“What the fuck kind of question is that?” Elijah shot back. “Remind me to not ask you what you’re thinking about ever again.”

The schedule didn’t just apply to his work, though; Reed had everything scheduled. A cleaner came every Tuesday at nine a.m. sharp, no exceptions except for holidays. On the first Friday of each month, a man came to change their air filters. Was this a service provided by Reed’s fancy-schmancy apartment? Greyson had asked off-handedly the second month he lived there. Reed had raised an eyebrow at the question.

“Of course not,” he said. “I schedule it.”

“But… why? It’s not like you have any pets. I can change the air filters when they need to be changed,” Greyson offered. Reed’s lips pressed together at this offering, an indication that what he wanted to say and what he would would be two very different things.

“Let’s just keep it the way it is, baby,” he said. “So neither of us forget.”

It wouldn’t have mattered if Greyson forgot something, though, because Reed was not only on top of everything, he was ahead of everything. If Greyson forgot to throw his boxers in the dirty clothes when he got in the shower, they were in the hamper before the steam settled. The first time Reed made him dinner and Greyson offered to clean up after, he was shocked to find that there wasn’t a single dish in the sink to contend with. Even the counters were spotless.

None of this was to say that Greyson felt he’d moved in with a stranger; he knew that Reed was particular, Type A, and just a touch anal retentive before he’d moved in. He just hadn’t realized quite how intense the situation was.

“I don’t see the issue,” Elijah said when Greyson casually brought up the situation over drinks one night. “That sounds like a dream living situation. It’s like you have a free butler. Is he being an asshole about doing everything? It’s not like a Collin situation, is it?”

Greyson took a long pull from his whiskey, signaled the bartender for another. “No,” he said, turning towards his friend, “that’s exactly why it’s weird. He doesn’t say anything about it. I could probably smash all the plates in the cabinet, shred his blankets and shove them down the toilet and then take a shit in our bed and he’d have it cleaned up by the time I got home from work. No questions asked.”

Elijah pressed his lips together, thinking. “I just don’t see how any of this is bad.”

“I’m not saying it’s bad. I’m saying it’s weird.”

“Like you don’t have any weird quirks,” Elijah said, nodding at the bartender’s gesture to pour him another whiskey as well. “C’mon, Grey. Be serious.”

Greyson rubbed a hand down his face. “Yeah, I mean obviously. I’ve just, like… I’ve never lived with anyone like this. I feel like I’m tiptoeing around the house. Remember that Disney movie from way back? Smart House?”

“You are constantly forgetting that I am ten years older than you, asshole. No, I don’t remember fucking Smart House I was busy paying taxes when it came out.”

The chef flipped off his friend, laughing in earnest. “Whatever. It’s like the house is watching me, is what I mean. Which it isn’t, Reed isn’t watching me, obviously, it’s just… a totally different way of living. I don’t know.” Defeated, he knocked back the drink and shrugged, looking down. A hand slid over to pat his arm.

“You love him?” Elijah asked when Greyson looked up at him. A flush bloomed on Greyson’s face, prompting a laugh from Elijah. “Yeah,” the GM said, “you love him. So just accept him for this. It’s a weird quirk, yeah, but I mean it’s better than the alternative.”

“Swamp monster being the alternative?”

“Collin being the alternative,” Elijah corrected. Greyson shuddered. “Exactly.”

That was where he landed; he’d just accept the schedules, and the clean-freak weirdness, and the anticipatory service that would put a five-star hotel to shame. Greyson loved Reed, quirks and all, after all.

There was, however, one quirk Greyson hadn’t realized his boyfriend had – not until three months into living together.

On a Monday in May, Greyson woke up to the sound of Reed on the phone.

This was hardly new; Reed was on the phone near-constantly on days he worked, talking to magazines and news sites, interviewing other chefs and restaurant owners in the city. At first, Greyson assumed this was one of those calls – that is, until he walked into the kitchen and began eavesdropping.

“Thanks for understanding, Melissa. Yep, should be all good by next week, I appreciate it. Mmhmm. I’ll Zelle the partial payment now. Thanks again, hun, see you next week. Buh-bye.”

Greyson raised an eyebrow as Reed hung up the phone. “Was that Melissa the cleaning woman?” Reed nodded, penning something into his day planner.

“Mmhmm,” he said, looking up at his boyfriend and smiling. “Why? Good morning, by the way.”

“Morning,” Greyson said, peeking into Reed’s planner. “Were you calling her off for tomorrow?”

“Yes…?” Reed said, drumming his fingers on the table. “Is that okay?”

“Obviously it’s okay,” Greyson said as he made a coffee in their Keurig. “I mean, I’m just surprised. You’ve never called her off, she comes like fuckin’ clockwork. Do you have some sort of plans?”

Reed shifted uncomfortably on his seat. “Um,” he said, closing the planner. “Sort of.”

Pouring creamer into his coffee, Greyson burst out in a laugh. “Sort of? I’ve lived with you for months, baby. You’ve never sort of had a plan. I’d be shocked if you hadn’t planned your own birth for a specific day.”

“Don’t be silly. No one would ever choose to have a Christmas birthday.”

“Mmm, fair enough,” Greyson said, sitting next to his boyfriend. “Sooo… what’s the plan?”

Again, Reed seemed uncomfortable. “You’re going to think I’m weird if I say it,” he admitted. Greyson snorted out a laugh.

“My love,” he said, cupping Reed’s chin, “that ship has sailed. You are very weird, and I love that about you. Now tell me why you called off Melissa, throwing a wrench in your otherwise-perfectly-curated day.”

Reed pressed his lips together. Then, quietly: “You’re getting sick.”

Greyson reeled back as if Reed had pushed him. “What?” he asked, dumbfounded.

Immediately, Reed set to explaining: “Okay, okay, I know this is bizarre but… um… okay, the explanation is going to sound even more bizarre, I’m now realizing, but you have, um, a tell. When you’re getting sick. And I know that sounds weird or invasive, but I just noticed it last night so I figured I would call off Melissa so that tomorrow you can just sleep instead of, like, listening to the vacuum all day. That’s all.”

The apartment was quiet then. “What’s the tell?” Greyson asked after a long pause.

“Grey, please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad, I’m… I don’t even know what I am, honestly. Freaked out?”

“Fuck, I shouldn’t have said anything,” Reed moaned, putting his head between his arms on the table. “I’m so fucking embarrassed.” He lifted his head then, his face red. “Please don’t be upset?”

The wind had been taken out of Greyson’s sails. “I’m really not… upset. Just tell me the tell.”

“You’re mad.”

“I’m not. Tell me why you think I’m getting sick.”

Reed sighed, looking down at his planner. “I just… like details. That’s all.”

“Reed, for God’s sake just tell me.”

“Okay!” Reed said, his embarrassment turning to frustration. “Okay. It’s just… ugh this sounds so weird. Okay, so like… you start to say a couple days before that some food that you love tastes weird, even though it doesn’t. This time it was an orange, you said it tasted rotten - I tried it, it didn’t. Then you’re super cold and moody, you wear your jacket to work even though it isn’t cold. That happened yesterday, then you came home and refused a drink. Those are all tells. So I figured by today when you got home from work, you’d be feeling shitty.” Reed shrugged, an attempt at being blasé that failed miserably with the catch in his voice that meant his embarrassment was about to spill over into tears. “That’s all.”

For a moment, Greyson just nodded – one continuous nod that he couldn’t seem to stop or accompany with words. “Okay,” he said, standing. “Um… I need to go to work. Can we talk about this later?”

“Greyson,” Reed said, desperation clear in his voice. “I promise I didn’t mean this to be so weird. I just… every time you’ve been sick, it’s been the same thing. I’m sorry. I notice patterns, it’s… one of my things, I guess. I don’t want you to think I’m a freak.”

“Reed,” Greyson said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I need a minute with this one. Okay? That’s it. I’m not mad, I just need… a minute.”

They stood in silence then, a stand-off with no winner or loser. “Okay,” Reed said finally. “Have a good day.”

Greyson went to the bedroom then, put on his work clothes, and gathered his backpack. What the ever loving fuck, he thought as he left without saying goodbye, was that?

***

“I mean, yeah, boss, that’s kind of weird I guess.”

This was not the reaction he’d been hoping for from Matt. “What do you mean kind of weird?” Greyson said, throwing his hands in the air. “He’s, like, stalking my habits. Keeping tabs on me. It’s insanity, Matt.”

The sous just shrugged, noncommittal, and continued chopping onions. “First off, I think you’re blowing this out of proportion. He’s watching your habits because he cares about you. It’s called intimacy. And second, I don’t know how to tell you this, Chef,” he said, glancing up, “but you do kind of have a tell when you’re getting sick.”

What kind of fucking nega-universe am I living in right now? Greyson thought, slamming his knife on the cutting board. “I do not have a tell,” he said. Matt glanced to the side, silent. “I don’t, Matt.”

“You don’t what?” Mark glided into the conversation, popping a cherry tomato from his boyfriend’s prep station into his mouth. Greyson took this opportunity gladly.

“Mark, glad you’re here,” Greyson said, turning away from his sous. “Random question: can you tell if Mark is getting sick?”

The floor manager furrowed his eyebrows together, looking Matt over. “Are you sick?” he asked his boyfriend.

“No,” Matt said. “But Greyson is.”

“Oh, my God no I am not,” Greyson insisted, throwing his arms over his head. “Never mind, Mark. Go.”

“Snippy,” Mark said. A knowing look passed between Mark and Matt then. “I’ll let Elijah know.”

No shot in hell this is my life, Greyson thought, looking wildly around the prep kitchen. “What the fuck is happening right now? I’m – HRRTSHH-ue!”

Silence fell over the back kitchen as Greyson ducked into his elbow. Then Elijah, from the office up front: “Oh, fuck off, I knew you were getting sick!”

Matt and Mark cackled while Greyson attempted to quell the volley of sneezes he knew were on that first’s heel. “You guys are asshoo – assholessITSZCH-ue! Hh - ! HETSZH-ue!”

“Bless, Chef,” Matt said, still laughing. The blessing made Mark literally double over, unable to catch his breath. Greyson glowered at the two of them as he yanked a handful of paper towels out of the dispenser and blew his nose. This is fucking humiliating, he found himself thinking.

“Shit, sorry Chef,” Mark said, finally catching his breath. Matt wiped a hysterical tear from his eye. “It’s just… I mean, it’s always so easy to tell when you’re sick. Can I get you some medicine from up front?” “No, Mark, you cannot get me some medicine,” Greyson grumbled. “You can go to the front and do your fucking job, though.”

Greyson could see Mark bite his cheek to keep from laughing again. “Yes, sir,” he said, disappearing from the back kitchen. On a roll, Greyson whirled around on his heels to point at his sous.

“And you,” he said, “finish up this prep. I’m going to the office.”

Matt just nodded, the smile on his face betraying his thoughts. “Yes, Chef,” he said.

As he stomped, defeated, to the front office, Greyson checked his phone. One new message.

11:52AM

Reed

hi, love. just wanted to make sure you’re having a good day. sorry again for my weirdness. love you.

God-fucking-dammit.

***

It had been a running joke from the time he was a kid.

Greyson, the go-til-you-drop expert. Greyson, the workhorse. Greyson, who wouldn’t know he’d been hit by a bus until someone else forced him into an ambulance. It was weird, he guessed, but it was what it was; he didn’t realize he was sick until it hit him because he was working. He was busy. That was how it always had been.

“Would you get in the office and take some fucking Dayquil, please?” Elijah plucked the knife from Greyson’s hand as he ducked under the prep station to stifle a flurry of coughs into his jacket. “We already said we’re sorry for embarrassing you, now go take something.”

Unwilling to give in, Greyson just shook his head and yanked his knife back from Elijah’s hands. “You didn’t embarrass mbe because I’mb ndot sick.”

“Uh huh,” Elijah said, crossing his arms. “Could you say that again?”

“Say what again?”

“‘I’m not sick’.”

Greyson rolled his eyes. “I’mb ndot sick.”

“‘I’mb ndot sick’,” Elijah parroted back, his consonants purposely dulled. “That’s crazy, that’s exactly how well people sound when they say that.”

Greyson’s face flamed. “Fuck off, Elijahhh – ahhTXSH-uhh!” An attempt to stifle a sneeze that immediately backfired. “HRSHH-ue! Huh -! HhhITSZCHH-ue!”

Taking pity, Elijah took the few steps to the office and grabbed a box of tissues. He placed it in front of the chef’s face and, begrudgingly, Greyson pulled out a few. “Bless you,” Elijah said, pointedly.

“You kndow what I miss,” Greyson asked, wiping his nose and sucking in, fruitlessly. Elijah raised his eyebrows as if to say, What? “I miss when I first started here and you were so clueless and self-involved that you didn’t ndotice I was walking around the kitchen with the fuckigg flu. I mbiss clueless Elijah. At least he wasn’t up mby ass twenty-four-seven.”

Elijah barked out a laugh. “You do not miss that,” he said. “You couldn’t even handle an afternoon of me not realizing you were sick. You were so downright offended that I hadn’t noticed you were sick that you literally went off on me. Please, Greyson. You can play the I’m-not-sick card all you want, but don’t pretend you don’t like the attention.”

At this, Greyson balked. “Are you calling mbe an attention whore?”

“Grey, of course I’m calling you an attention whore,” Elijah exploded, throwing his hands in the air. “Someone who isn’t an attention whore doesn’t turn a weird fight with his boyfriend into a day-long diatribe at work. You think Reed realized you were getting sick because he’s stalking your movements? Please, Grey. He realized it because you do the same damn thing every time – you sulk around work for a day or two, complaining about the thermostat being wrong in the kitchen. Your taste is off, and every dish Matt brings to you for editing doesn’t have enough salt. Then you come into work one day in a bad mood and seemingly out of nowhere start sneezing and coughing and shit. It’s like clockwork.”

The two of them stood there for a moment, silent. Despite it all, Greyson was in a bit of shock – was he really that obvious? How the fuck did everyone else realize he was sick before it ever even dawned on him? “It’s like that every time?” he asked, finally. Elijah nodded.

“Every time,” he said. “I thought you were always just trying to soft-launch your illness before it hit, get us all ready for a few days of you being an asshole.”

Was that what he was doing? Now Greyson was having a hard time even trusting his own brain – but no, that couldn’t have been his intention. He’d never even noticed before when he was getting sick. He figured that’s how everyone was; one day you’re fine, the next you’re on your ass.

“I’mb gonna keep it really real with you, Lij,” Greyson said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve ndever ndoticed that I did any of that. HRRTSHH-uhh! Fugck.” He grabbed another handful of tissues from the box beside him and wiped his nose. “I thought ‘getting sick’ was, like, a myth. You either are or you aren’t.”

Elijah closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “You… are a different breed, Greyson Abbott,” he said, gathering himself. “You’ve never, like, taken inventory of how you’re feeling? Ever?”

“I mean, if I’mb forced to,” Greyson said, coughing into a fist. “Like ndow I am.”

“So you’re saying the only time you think about how you’re feeling is when you’re already down bad.”

“Uhh. Yes,” Greyson admitted, sniffling. “Pretty much.”

Elijah cracked his neck then, as if gearing up for a fight. “Get help, Grey,” he said, laughing. “That’s fucking crazy work.”

But it was true. From the time he was young, Greyson was busy. Sports as a teen, then restaurants the second he graduated – there simply wasn’t time to take inventory of how he was feeling. Taking inventory meant spending time thinking about how shitty things were, or could be, or would be eventually. In all honesty, Greyson had no interest in thinking about how or when things would all fall apart. They always did, eventually. No need to dwell on it.

Again, the two of them stood in silence, until finally Greyson broke the tension. “You said we have Dayquil?” he asked. Elijah just nodded.

“Want me to bring you some?”

“Yeah. Thanks, boss.”

***

By nine p.m., Greyson so done, if he were a steak you’d need a bone saw to cut through him.

“Huh-!” For the millionth time that evening, Greyson’s breath hitched painfully, and he folded completely in half to -

“HRRTSZHH-ue! Huh...hhITZHCHH-ue! ETSCHH-ue! Huh -! Hhnnn… Fuckigg – HRRETSZH-ue!”

“Bless, Chef,” the cooks called. Matt raised his eyebrows at his boss from behind the line.

“Ready to admit defeat yet?” he asked as another ticket printed. Fuck, Greyson thought, pulling the ticket. Yes, I fucking am.

“Order ind,” Greyson called, his voice dipping on the second word. “Two scallops, one ribeye. HRRTSHH-uhh!”

“Yes, Chef. Bless, Chef,” called the cooks.

Okay. Even he knew when it was time to call it.

“Mbatt, combe expo,” Greyson said, yanking his apron off. “I’mb going home, I’m fuckigg dying.”

Matt just nodded and walked around his coworkers to the other side of the line. “Feel better, Chef,” he said, pulling another ticket. “Order in.”

Greyson trudged to the office and slammed the door. Fucking Reed. Fucking Matt. Fucking Elijah, he thought, unbuttoning his coat and yanking his hoodie over his head. Just as he was about to open the door to leave, someone knocked timidly. “Come in, ndo one’s naked,” Greyson muttered.

Elijah opened the door and stood in the entry. “Admitting defeat?” he echoed the sous. Greyson rolled his eyes painfully.

“I guess,” he said, coughing into the sleeve of his jacket. “Gotta go face the all-seeing-eye at home. Can’t wait.” Elijah nodded, shifting from foot to foot as if weighing what he wanted to say next.

“Greyson,” Elijah said finally; gently, carefully. “I know what you’re used to. We all know what you’re used to, and it’s what Collin gave you. Neglect. Nothing. I get it, dude. You aren’t used to a partner really caring about you. But Reed? He’s like us, like me and Mark and Matt. He cares about you.” Elijah shrugged. “Let him.”

Even if he didn’t feel like shit, Greyson probably would’ve teared up. As it stood, he felt the tears fall down his face before he could even look away. “What happens whend he leaves?” he asked, his voice small. Elijah placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, looked him in the eye.

“What happens if he doesn’t?”

***

When he walked in the door, Greyson was surprised to find that the TV was on and Reed was nowhere to be found. The TV was almost never on in this apartment, and Greyson could almost always hear the click-clack of Reed’s keyboard when he walked in, no matter the time.

“Reed?” Greyson called, his voice straining. “Are you hombe?”

From the bedroom, Greyson heard a crash, then a “Fuck,” then suddenly Reed was standing in front of him in a t-shirt and pajama pants, looking very much not like his usual put-together self.

“Grey,” he said, throwing his arms around Greyson’s neck, “you came back.”

Greyson pulled back, looking at Reed’s face – had he been crying? “Of course I cambe back,” he said. “What do you meee – HRRTSCHH-ue! Fuck, ’scuse mbe.” Greyson wiped his nose on his jacket and Reed, ever-prepared, handed him a box of tissues from the entry table next to them.

“Bless you,” Reed said. “I mean… you never answered my text. You kinda stormed out this morning I figured… I don’t know. I had freaked you out too hard and you were done with me.” He shrugged, one hang wringing the other. “I’m sorry for being such a freak.”

Gently, Greyson pulled Reed’s hands away from one another, placed them on his own face. “Please don’t be sorry. You’re ndot a freak,” he said. “You’re just… you care. And I’mb ndot used to that. That’s on mbe, Reed. Ndot you. Caring, noticing… it’s a good thing.” He smiled then. “It’s something I admire about you. I’mb sorry I’ve never said it.”

Reed looked down, blushing. “You’re really warm,” he said, finally. Greyson coughed out a laugh.

“You’re also a bit of a prophet,” he said. “I feel like dog shit.”

Tutting, Reed moved one of his hands from Greyson’s cheek to his forehead. “Want me to get you some ibuprofen? Or I can make you tea, we have a ton, or let me run you a bath, or -”

“What I want,” Greyson cut him off, pulled him close, “is to go sit ond that couch. With you. And rot for the next few hours. Mbaybe order Doordash.” He coughed into his sleeve again, then, prompting Reed to attention once again.

“Shit, I should’ve made dinner or something, I honestly was just so worried you weren’t coming back I haven’t done anything today, I’m sorry baby I should’ve -”

“Hey,” Greyson said, pulling him back. “I just want you. I don’t want you to do sombething for mbe, or get something for mbe, or mbake something. I just want to be with you. Is that ok?”

Reed stopped in his tracks. “You don’t want anything?”

“Just you,” Greyson said. “And – HRRTSSH-ue! Snrf. And mbaybe the tissues.”

A smile spread across Reed’s face then. “I can handle that.”

[sapphicsnzs]

some sneezes from my cold VERY HARSH be warned

there’s a part two from a few days later fyi;)

[nametakensff]

for the prompts - crowded area w eddie pls!

Thank you for the prompt, anon! 🥰 Have 2.1k of pure mutual fetish AU filth in which E/ddie struggles with a cold on a cramped subway carriage and S/teve is extremely into it 😇

~~~~~~

Content:

M/M, established relationship, both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, E/ddie gets off to his own sneezing, cold sneezing, sneezing on public transport, spray, build-ups, announcing sneezes, mess, stifles, sneezing on someone's neck/into their scarf, exhibitionism/voyeurism, embarrassment, public arousal, teasing, brief fetishy dirty talk, mentions of sneezing on someone's face, mentions of sex/blowjobs, potential contagion

CW: People unable to move away from being sneezed on and they are not happy about it, did I mention lots of potential contagion

~~~~~~

NSFW, minors please DNI!

Steve wanted to like New York more, he really did. The past couple of days with Eddie had been a wonderful blur of excitement for the most part, but something he just couldn’t get past was the subway. Endlessly bustling, crammed tight with people, leaving him and Eddie pressed right up against each other, and more annoyingly, strangers. It would leave him begging for relief at every stop, only for the small group of departing passengers to be replaced entirely by even more busy, grumpy individuals. It was their fault for rocking up in peak holiday season and staying in accommodation on what Steve now recognised as an extremely busy rail line, but still. It was a lot for a small town guy to handle.

He sighed in frustration as another wave of people piled onto the carriage he and Eddie were wedged into, muttering a soft apology to his boyfriend as the pressure behind him pressed Eddie back up against the opposite door.

He really wished they would ease up just a little, given that Eddie was already having difficulty breathing today with his nose thoroughly blocked. It would be just their luck that one of them would come down with a bug during the trip they’d been looking forward to for so long. It wasn’t all bad, of course; Steve woke up with morning wood to the sound and feeling of Eddie sneezing against his neck, and the ensuing sex had been excellent.

Eddie had assured Steve he felt perfectly fine that morning, and to be fair, he had been. It was as the day progressed that Steve noticed a steady decline in the older man’s energy and a rapid increase in sneezing and coughing – though the latter paled in the face of the former.

“You okay, baby?” Steve muttered under his breath so that only Eddie would hear him. They were now pressed directly up against one another, Steve’s face beside Eddie’s. He desperately wanted to nuzzle his cold nose into Eddie’s unruly hair. Eddie sniffled, audibly wet and miserably congested, and Steve suppressed a shiver at having the noise so up close and personal in his ear.

“I’m fi’de, Stevie. Al’bost there.”

Steve felt Eddie’s hand squeeze his wrist, about the most movement he could make with people flanking his sides, just as trapped as he was. Steve’s heart fluttered, and he moved his head back to glance at Eddie’s face. Eddie winked at him, smiling even whilst looking absolutely exhausted. His poor, pink nose twitched, so adorable that Steve wanted to lean forward and nuzzle it with his own. He wanted to do so many things, and he was going to spoil Eddie rotten when they got back to their ratty little hotel room. A blowjob would definitely be in order – him giving it, of course. Eddie could only breathe with his mouth held slightly open, nostrils swollen and full of cold. The rims glistened in the overhead lighting, slick threatening to leak out at any given moment.

Steve maneuvered his arm so that he could subtly reach for Eddie’s hand with his own and clasped their gloved fingers together. Eddie sighed in response, slumping just a little as Steve leaned forward, effectively supporting him where the door did not. Steve tried to ignore the feeling of all the surrounding bodies pressing against him, focusing only on Eddie. The sniffling next to his ear was definitely something to hone in on to pass the time; he found himself waiting in anticipation for each one, his boyfriend’s poor drippy nose at imminent danger of running down his face. It was getting to him more than a little bit; he was grateful for the thick winter coat he was wearing, though he was sure Eddie was able to feel the manifestation of his physical appreciation poking into him.

It was only a couple of minutes later when Steve felt Eddie going rigid against him. He glanced sidelong at his boyfriend’s face, heart rate soaring when he recognised the ever-familiar beginnings of a pre-sneeze expression.

“Fuck.” Eddie muttered, starting to squirm, trying but failing to free one of his arms. Steve recognised the dilemma, but realised his own arms were just as trapped. His dick was definitely interested now, had there been any previous doubt.

“Shit, fuck. I n’deed to sn’deeze, Steve.” He murmured in Steve’s ear, and Steve felt a pleasant rush of endorphins flow through him, skin erupting in a cacophony of goosebumps. He knew it hadn’t been Eddie’s intention to work him up, but rather to express frustration. He also knew that Eddie wouldn’t hold his arousal against him, and that Eddie was probably getting off on this too, despite the embarrassing threat of sneezing uncovered in such a heavily crowded space. Steve’s suspicions were confirmed when Eddie’s continued wriggling pressed his erection against Steve’s thigh, hard enough that Steve could feel it through Eddie’s own thick coat.

“It’s okay, Eds. Just sneeze.”

Eddie huffed, ignoring him, still trying to free an arm. The grumpy looking man next to them who had been giving them judgemental glances throughout the journey also huffed, and pressed himself back against Eddie, evidently frustrated with the way he was being jostled. Fucking moron, Steve thought. As if his boyfriend’s face wasn’t a crystal-clear picture of a man about to erupt into multiple sneezes.

“Fuck, fuck, f-fuck-!” Eddie grumbled, sounding genuinely concerned.

Steve leaned forward to whisper into his ear.

“It’s okay, honey. Let them out. We both want you to do that, and we’ll never see these people again. Don’t be embarrassed.”

Eddie shivered, letting out a shaky exhale that Steve recognised as arousal amidst the hitchy little swallows of air he was taking in to fuel the oncoming fit.

“You’re a bastard, Harri’gton…Hh, HH-!”

Steve smiled, keeping his face over Eddie’s shoulder and pressing his thigh firmly between his boyfriend’s legs. He couldn’t see Eddie like this, but he could hear him, and feel every single shiver and hitch of breath; Eddie’s chest expanded against Steve’s own, pushing him back ever so slightly with each gasp. He pictured his increasingly desperate pre-sneeze face, an image he was greatly acquainted with and regularly conjured up whilst masturbating, besides. In his mind’s eye, he could perfectly recreate the tortured expression, Eddie's slick, pink nostrils flaring wide, mouth dropping open as his tongue pressed up against his bottom teeth. A mask of warring frustration and ecstasy as the tickle prodded and teased, until…

Steve felt Eddie hold in his last inhale for an endless second, rib cage pushing against his own, before he rapidly contracted several times in a row with a series of perfectly silent stifles. They were expertly contained, something Steve never ceased to be impressed by even knowing that Eddie had had years of experience with seasonal allergies – probably because his quietest sneezes still startled every person in the room at any given time.

As Eddie continued to sneeze, Steve was torn between concern and overwhelming arousal. It was enough that his poor baby had such a persistent tickle in his nose, sneezing over and over whilst pressed up against him, but he would be lying to himself if he said the fact that other people were also in the relative splash zone, for lack of a better term, wasn’t getting to him. Not that these stubborn little stifles, now starting to make audibly nasal squelching sounds as the congestion built up, were splashing anyone. Yet. He suppressed a full body shiver.

Steve leaned back as much as he could to get an indulgent look at his boyfriend’s contracting features, sneezing now in regular little intervals as though operating on clockwork. He glanced sidelong at the grumpy guy who had shoved Eddie and suppressed a smug grin as he now saw the dude was attempting to lean as far away from his sneezing boyfriend as possible. It still wasn’t enough for either he nor Eddie to get an arm free, much to their mutual chagrin. Steve felt bad for enjoying this as much as he was, but not enough to stop watching it go down.

Finally, the dams of Eddie’s hard-fought resistance seemed to break, and with one particularly desperate gasp, he sneezed without restraint.

“HEHP’TSSSCHHhhtt!!”

It was startlingly loud, even over the clatter of the train and the dull murmurs of other pockets of chattering friends. More importantly, it was impossibly wet, sending a fine aerosol of glittering spray over Steve’s shoulder and onto everybody else, helpless as they were to move away. It also forced twin trails of mess out of Eddie’s flaring nostrils, threatening to flow over his lips. Steve felt weak in the knees, worried he wouldn’t be able to withstand how erotic the whole affair was.

Eddie’s eyes flew open the second after he sneezed, already heated cheeks flushing a darker shade of pink, almost matching his twitching, sore nose.

“Fu’gck, Sorry…!” He muttered, glancing apologetically at the few surrounding commuters who were peering at him in revulsion. They quickly averted their eyes, perhaps out of embarrassment, or perhaps to steel themselves and turn as far away as possible as Eddie’s face started to ominously crumple again. Steve fought with every muscle in his body not to start humping his boyfriend’s leg right there in the middle of the crowded carriage. He felt dizzy with arousal.

“Bless you, baby.” He muttered into Eddie’s ear. He wanted to nibble on his earlobe; wanted to kiss him until Eddie couldn’t hold back anymore and sneezed squarely in his face.

Eddie had no means of responding. He gasped before sneezing again, and again, and again, each one increasing in spraying intensity.

“HAhGKK’TSSSSCHHh!! HAHDD’TZZSHHHHhtt!! EHH’GSSHHHH’Uuu!!!”

Incredibly, Steve was able to hold back a moan. Those sneezes sounded awful, truly overpowering and violent. He couldn’t help but wish for a reality where they’d sprayed his bare skin, or been directed right at his throbbing, naked erection. Thoughts of fucking into Eddie as he crumpled forward and sprayed him with a similar volley of all-encompassing, powerful cold sneezes ran rampant through his mind, driving him crazy with desire.

Eddie’s face was a mess; each forceful sneeze sent the strings of congestion further down until they dripped past his mouth and over his chin. His lips glistened with the aftermath of the clouds of spray that had burst out of him and onto the arms, backs and chests of the people nearby, now desperately trying to angle themselves away and cursing in disgust. Steve felt bad for Eddie to a degree, sure he did. Would have felt worse if he didn’t know his boyfriend, know how much this derision was going straight to his dick, as was the pleasurable sensation of each sneeze that wracked his slender frame.

“Shit, shit…” Eddie muttered through lips he kept otherwise closed against the mess, getting a breath in after that incredible loss of composure.

“Eddie.” Steve said, watching as his boyfriend’s gaze started to go hazy again, yet another outburst imminent. Steve could actually physically feel the wary tension of the people around them; it was incredible how much distance from Eddie they had managed to create, as wedged in like fucking sardines as they were.

“Eddie,” He repeated, “Sneeze into my collar, or my scarf.” He angled closer, twisting as much as possible to offer himself up to his boyfriend. Under his breath, just loud enough that Eddie could catch it if he was listening (he most certainly was), he added, “Time to make a mess out of me instead, okay?”

Nostrils twitching in devilish anticipation, Eddie managed to nod, pressing his face into the soft fabric of Steve’s scarf-covered neck as best he could. He gasped and trembled, arching forward with a series of muffled explosions, the soft wool tickling his sensitive nose fiercely.

“Hhh’MPPFTtt!! MPSHhh!! Hh’MPFSHH’uu!! Hh-!”

Steve’s eyelashes fluttered in pleasure. His entire body felt incredible, every nerve singing as he continued to live out possibly one of the hottest things that had ever happened to him - fully clothed, in public, for fuck’s sake. It was making him giddy, and he had to suppress the urge to laugh at the way the bodies around him seemed to melt in relief now that he took the brunt of his boyfriend’s misery. It was a pretty hilarious situation for the sheer misfortune of it all, to be fair, and he imagined it would be something they could both laugh about in the future. The other commuters, he wasn’t so sure.

Their stop was only minutes away now. As Eddie continued to shudder against him, even his muffled sneezing sounding out in the cramped space, Steve mentally prepared himself for the short walk back to their hotel.

[hockeynoses]

A man wakes up with a terrible cold, and his wife, who happens to have the fetish, is thrilled.

He calls into work while they're fucking doggy style, the gorgeous expanse of her back laid out before him. A soft moan escapes her throat.

“Shhh, sweetheart. I’b on the phode," he says teasingly, waiting for his boss to pick up. The risk of having an audience is a dangerous thrill that pushes them both closer towards the edge.

"Hey, boss. Idt’s mbe." Hopefully his boss takes the dizzy lust in his voice for grogginess instead. A prickling itch builds in his sinuses, and he's unable to cover - one hand busy with the phone and the other wrapped around his wife's hip.

“I don’t… hah… I don’t thigg I-iihh – huh’AEESSSH’UH!”  The thick sneeze explodes in front of him, showering his wife's back with wetness. “I dodn’t thigg I cadn cobme in today.”

“Nng!" His wife stifles a breathy moan as best she can. He leans forward to wrap his wide hand gently over her mouth, feeling her hot breath moist against his palm. The tempo of his thrusts quickens, his hips stuttering with need.

“I thigk I just dneed to stay in bed all d-day. Hih… hih’ZZIISHH’iue!" Another harsh, heavy sneeze sprays over her, settling cool on her skin.

As much fun as this is, he needs to end the call quickly. He can tell she's already so close she can barely stand it -