#christmas snz | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

softsnzstuff · 1 year

Note

🎅🏻🦠🤧

For canon-verse steddie?

🎅🏻 Holiday Shopping / 🦠 Sniffles / 🤧 Sick for the Holidays

Ahhh this got away from me. So much fun to write!! Thanks for sending this in, Anon!! ~KB

*****

Holiday shopping was not usually Steve Harrington’s strong point. He always got the wrong thing or the wrong color. At this point it was a running joke. This year though, he’s had his eye on Eddie’s gift for a few months. He’d saved his last couple of Family Video paychecks to get Eddie a brand new set of dice for Hellfire.

Despite his parents almost never being home, Steve’s presence was demanded and expected at his aunt’s house over the next few days. That being said, his only day to deliver Eddie’s gift was today.

He’d paid extra for the dice to be gift wrapped, and now here he was, standing on the doorstep of the Munson trailer. He turned the wrapped box over in his hands after he knocked, suddenly worried Eddie might not like them.

“Steve! How are ya?” Wayne opened the door, greeting him.

“Hey Mr.Munson, merry Christmas! This is for you!” He handed Wayne a small gift bag. “It’s not much…”

The man opened the bag and pulled out a set of bandanas.

“For the grease when you work on the cars.” Steve explained.

“Thank you Steve.” He gave the boy a hug before eyeing the second wrapped gift in his hands. “That for Eddie?”

“Yeah! I Um… I didn’t tell him I was coming to drop it off.”

Wayne made an expression that Steve couldn’t quite place, “You might wanna come back another day. Ed’s got himself a pretty bad cold. I told him to stay in his room.”

“Crap…” Steve’s smile faded, “I’m going out of town tomorrow. Todays really the last day I can give it to him.”

Wayne seemed to be caught up in thought, mentally weighing the options in his head. As if on cue, slightly muffled sneezes rang out from the bedroom down the hall.

“HMPTCH! iiGSHUU! N’gisSHiew!”

“Alright, you can come give it to him, but you’ve been warned. He’s been-”

“G’isSHuhew!”

Wayne signed and rubbed the back of his neck, “He’s been sneezing like that all day.”

He stepped aside, letting Steve in. “Thanks Mr.Munson.”

Wayne grabbed a fresh box of tissues off the counter and tore it open, handing it to Steve. “Can you bring him these?”

“Of course!”

The brunette ran a hand through his hair. Tissues in one hand and gift in the other. He knocked gently on the bedroom door and waited for a response from the other side.

“SNF come hh come in- iiKSHtiew!”

Steve opened the door and peeked in, waving at Eddie from the doorway. He stepped in and closed the door behind him.

The older man was propped up in bed, wearing pajama pants and a sweatshirt. His rings were sitting on his bedside table, and his Hellfire campaign binder was open next to him. The bed and floor were littered with bunched up tissues, and there was an empty box on the floor.

“Steve!” A smile spread across his face. He pointed at the box of tissues in Steve’s hand and teased, “Are those for m’be? You shouldn’t have.”

“Yeah. Sounds like you need them!” Steve handed the box over and sat on the edge of Eddie’s bed.

Eddie sighed. Finally he had company to complain to.

“You do’t even k’dow Stevie. It’s just this thhh tickle won’t go hhh away…”

He pulled the first few tissues from the box and pressed them against his face, breath hitching uncontrollably.

“Hhh Heh- HIH! N’giSSSHew! etSCHuh! iiKSHT!”

He blew his nose and tossed the tissues aside before another round snuck up on him. He quickly pulled the neck of his hoodie up over his nose and mouth.

“h’IKSHiew! TSZiew! HEH’isSHuhew!”

Eddie gave a soupy sniffle, the accumulated mess retreating back into his nose before he lowered the collar of the hoodie.

“Jesus, Munson. Bless you!” Steve rubbed a hand up and down Eddie’s back, making contact with his big brown eyes.

“Tha’gks. Snlorff! Sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s okay Eds, you’re sick. I actually came to give you this.” Steve held out the small, delicately wrapped present.

Eddie looked at the present and then back at Steve before taking it. “What is it?”

Steve laughed, rolling his eyes, “You gotta open it and find out, killer!”

Eddie scrubbed at the underside of his nose with his jacket sleeve before untying the bow on the top of the box and opening it.

“Steve!! You got me new Hellfire Dice??”

The younger man blushed pinker than Eddie’s nose. “Yeah. I umm if you don’t like them I could…I kept the receipt…”

Eddie out a gentle hand on Steve’s chest to stop his rambling, “Hey, no I love them! Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The two leaned in and gave each other a long hug, before Eddie pulled back, looking at Steve’s eyes, then his lips, and back to his eyes. He leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on the younger man’s lips.

When he pulled back again, Steve was bright red. Eddie immediately panicked.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry!! I shouldn’t have done that I don’t know what I was thinking??? And you probably didn’t even want me to and.. and - H’iiKSHtew! Hr’TZziew! eKSHuhew!”

“Hey Eddie, calm down!”

Steve grabbed his shoulders and smiled at him, the older man’s nostrils slightly damp.

“I did want you to.” He handed a few tissues to Eddie, “Here.”

Eddie gurgled into the tissues and tossed them aside, looking back at Steve with puppy eyes. “But you’ll catch my cold.”

Steve smirked, “Good! I didn’t want to go to my aunt’s house anyways. Now move over!”

Eddie shuffled to the other side of the bed, making room for Steve to sit next to him. He sniffled again, leaning his head on Steve’s shoulder.

“Merry Christmas Steve.”

#s/tranger t/hings #e/ddie m/unson #s/teve h/arrington #steddiesnz #snzblr #snz kink #coldfucker #kb writes #ask box #anonymous #Christmas snz #w/ayne m/unson

48 notes · View notes

mr-dark-1amao · 5 months

Text

Although she is the Herrscher of Finality (like a god in Honkai world) she still been Kiana Kaslana, our Tuna valkyrie; who always screws up for being clumsy, but with a great heart and happiness.

Since she's been on the moon, she wants to send us a message, saying: Merry Christmas, but her nose didn't let her finish the phrase. At least she tried.

This drawing is for a contest of a friend from Deviant Art, hope they like it.

#kiana kaslana #sneeze #sneezing #snz art #snz #snzart #snz kink #sneeze art #sneeze kink #honkai impact #honkai kiana #nose pinch #merry christmas

134 notes · View notes

nametakensff · 5 months

Text

Current fantasy of the week: cuddling up to a beautiful woman with a relentless cold while she's all bundled up in bed, and waiting on her hand and foot. Getting sprayed by all the tickly sneezes she's unable to cover in time and catching them for her when I can, making sure to dab her poor, pink nostrils clean. Getting her off if she needs the decongestant relief of an orgasm and holding her afterwards until she falls asleep in my arms 💕

#merry almost christmas lol #sneeze kink #snz kink #snz fet #snzblr #sneeze fucker #snz fucker #scenario #nttalks

77 notes · View notes

selene-and-the-cold · 5 months

Text

Person A caught a really bad cold right before Christmas. All their plans have been canceled, because the cold renders them absolutely useless and miserable. Their head and body ache. Their throat feels like it's lined with broken glass, and their poor nose is bright red and swollen from the constant, never-ending cycle of fierce, tickles in their nose, messy, desperate sneezing fits, wiping and rubbing at their nose with tissues, sweaters or hands, and a constant, liquid sniffle.

They've spent the whole day leading up to Christmas in their pjs bundled up on the couch in a thick, woolen blanket. Their partner B bringing them hot tea, and cookies, as well as hot water bottles for their cold feet and cool compresses for their feverish brow.

When it's time to unwrap the presents, A drags themselves up, wrapping the blanket around them to go and sit on the floor by the tree together with B. B tried to protest, but A did not want to miss this Christmas tradition of opening presents under the Christmas tree.

They exchange gifts, and just as A unwraps a beautiful scarf that will come in very handy in the days to come, they feel a sneeze coming on. Their nose twitches a few times, A's face scrunching up as they try to wriggle the urge to sneeze back down, but to no avail. Soon, their eyes flutter close and their lips draw back, mouth going slack as their body gears up for the sneeze. They can feel that it is going to be a big one, congestion quivering in their nose as they take in a long breath, sitting ready to be sneezed out. So A desperately searches for a tissue, but they left the box on the couch.

For a moment, they consider sneezing into their new scarf, but they don't want to ruin their beautiful present. They are too shy to sneeze into their blanket in front of B, so when the big, messy sneezes are about to spill out of their poor red nose, A desperately grabs a piece of discarded wrapping paper, raising it to their face just in time for the sneezes to splatter messily against it.

Turns out that wrapping paper does a poor job containing messy sneezes...

#snzarios #Christmas snzarios #snz #mess #colds #Christmas colds #I just love Christmas scenarios and can't stop thinking about them right now

81 notes · View notes

thedevillionaire · 1 year

Text

blessings in disguise

Little domestic vacation moment for the festive season? Apparently so. Cerberus and Kia, their holiday cabin in the woods, and his impeccable timing for this sort of thing.

---

It certainly isn’t the first sign, but it is without doubt the definitive one.

He pauses at the cabin’s front door longer than expected amid snow flurries windwhipped wild, the fall still light but steadily increasing, and crushes the latest sneeze as best he can into something approaching submission.

“HXTchu!”

Desperate times and desperate measures, as it were. And as Kia well knows, it never works.

She watches anticipant as the clear resurgence of need possesses him, the chill in the air spiking alongside an insistent, cresting compulsion he can do nothing about. Nothing, that is, save emphatic surrender.

“hh… hhuh-TSCHH-uu! Ahh-HEHTSCHuu!”

“Bless you, hon,” she offers again.

Cerberus, with a murmured thank you and sharp sniffle, gives the briefest shake of his head, apologetic, both irritated at and contemptuous of himself in defeat. He glances back at his bonded, sighs and sniffles again. “Forgive me,” he says, disappointment palpable.

This was not what he’d had in mind for the week’s vacation at all.

---

And the several hours that have passed since then have brought nothing but consolidation; a settling-in of symptomatic certainties that no amount of willpower can deny.

Not that any more denying was being done.His “It’s nothing” dismissals of yesterday have been thoroughly abandoned, and it’s become undeniably clear that neither the not-really-dusty-enough state of the cabin nor the infrequent, scattered groves of silver birch in the dense woodlands are to blame, no matter how wishful his thinking.

So now as evening falls and she’s bringing him another honeyed lemon tea, the steam curling vivid against the frostnipped windows, he’s all blanketwrapped bucolic gorgeousness, the depleted tissue box in his lap and the deepening hint of redness to his nose notwithstanding. And he’s actually wearing the cable knit sweater, as he’d promised her he would in a distracted moment of if you really wish it, love, I suppose so – in a true classic richest cream, no less, and good goddamn if it doesn’t work, ebony hair in contrast, emerald eyes in complement – embodying lord of the countryside retreat so beautifully it almost feels like this is the way things always are. She could lose herself in reverie for a small eternity, maybe already has; the refined grandeur of his usual aesthetic turned to the cosy, the commonplace, so different to his norm yet somehow so suited.

So different, that is, except for one thing: the vibrant hearthblaze crackles and roars, softwarm and familiar, its radiant heat, his essence reflected in every one of its dancing flames.

He sniffles as she sets the teacup on the side table, thanks her tiredly through settling congestion. Kia’s heart softens with a gentle smile and she starts to say something but she’s quickly pulled back from the abstract, her focus sharpened as his falls away and he turns from her in haste, sneezing heavily, unstoppably.

“HhhAAHTSSSCHuu! AHHETSCHUU!” An attempt at apology is hijacked by another hitch of breath, rapidly abandoned to an itch that will not back down, and conquering need. “Hh-h… hhh… huhh-TSSCHH-uuh!”

She strokes his arm, adjusts the set of the blanket. “Bless you, sweetheart.”

“Goddamn it,” he mutters, rueful bitterness unmissable, and sighs again, Mindsending a thanks, love as he accepts the tissues she passes him. “I’m so sorry. The timing of this is just…utterly ridiculous, truly.”

Kia frowns in confusion. “No, what do you mean? Babe, no, the timing’s perfect!”

He looks at her as if she might have lost her mind.

She laughs, not unkindly, and curls an arm around him, runs her fingers through his hair. “Think about it. You have organised, actual time off. Which you, like, never do. For a week. A week! It’s just us, nobody’s going to visit or ask for stuff or whatever, there’s no pressures, it’s just us in this beautiful little place, and it’s all warm and private and there’s no official shit to be done, and we’re here in the middle of all these amazing trees and stuff, and I know you feel like shit but it’s okay, babe, really, it’s not that bad and I promise you will be the most spoilt you have ever been, alright, and it’s fine. Better than fine. It’s perfect. Hmm? Perfect.”

Cerberus chuckles softly, quietly touched and delighted in equal measure. “You’re some kind of genius, darkling, I’m sure of it,” he murmurs.

“You know it.” Kia grins, and Mindsends a teasing :Maybe I’ll even finally beat you at chess.:

“Now, now. I’ve not lost all my senses.”Cerberus, with a sly smile, resettles to rest his head against Kia’s shoulder as she gasps, laughs in faux incredulity, and delivers a light slap for his impudence.

He smiles again, and concedes with a brief nod as he sniffles and reaches for another tissue. “Well, either way, love, I had hoped to spend this time doing something other than sneezing.”

“Oh…” She nestles closer to him, touches her lips to his neck, drops her voice to a purr. “I might just have some ideas about that.”

---

#so apparently i can't complete any of the wips i've had in (very slow) progress for literally months now #but one day of christmas/my mum's birthday activity results in a spontaneous minific lol of course it does #i may do a longer fic set in the cabin sometime #finally got him in the damn sweater after all 😅#cerberus and kia #cerbia #my OCs #supernatural soap opera #cerberus #snz fic #snzfic

77 notes · View notes

kushamiqueen · 5 months

Text

I wish I could just go back to being lonely like I used to be.

Knowing what I'm missing is so much harder.

#personal #irl #not snz #sorry for being a downer #its just Christmas #and i have 0 plans #and im in tokyo so everyone is planning dates #and all i can think about is how everyone is out having fun without me

9 notes · View notes

groundcontrol21 · 1 year

Note

Ohhh. It's so hard to pick! I love all of these! But I think I'm going to go with Dec 14th: an "unfortunate"gift. 😉😉

It's no longer December 14th, but here is December 14th's prompt, made extra long to compensate for the wait :) Merry Christmas to the wonderful and patient @sniction-fiction, and to the rest of those who celebrate.

In the distance, and above the frigid howl of the wind, the bells of Saint Sulpice chimed a quarter past the hour. D’Artagnan looked to his friends who were gathered at the table with him, still awaiting the fourth friend whose idea it had been to gather at Athos’s apartment before the Christmas feast and exchange gifts. Porthos had taken to tapping the table with his knuckles. Athos was draining the dregs from his third cup of wine.

Porthos frowned, sparing a glance out the wintry window. “He’s fifteen minutes late.”

“The weather probably delayed him this morning,” Athos said drily, pouring himself more wine. “Where was it this year, Tours?”

“Amiens.” Porthos shook his head. “I think. Or maybe Angers. I can hardly keep track of his ladies.”

“It’s a wonder he can.” D’Artagnan rolled his eyes. “I’d need a roster to help me remember.”

“I think Aramis could use one,” Porthos laughed. “Free up a bit of space in that little head of his.” Porthos tapped at his own skull for emphasis, before turning and wagging that same finger with gusto at the young Gascon. “Hey, maybe that should be your present to him next year. A neat little accounting book, where he can keep a list of his mistresses. Names in one column, gifts they give him in the other.”

Athos hummed in bemused approval, and D’Artagnan snorted. “Is it really that bad?”

Athos and Porthos shared a long, knowing look, before Athos cleared his throat. “I think his record is the year he came home from the newly widowed Lady D’Bouconvilier’s country estate with another horse to carry all his gifts.”

D’Artagnan’s eyes went as wide as saucers and Porthos laughed. “Or when he came home from Rouen with a big bottle of Persian perfume swaddled to his chest–I thought he’d come home with a son!”

D’Artagnan guffawed and listened with rapt intent as Porthos and Athos took turns relaying the details of Aramis’s other Christmas tradition besides the Mass: the week prior to the holiday he spent making a tour of his wealthiest paramours from the year. From the sounds of it, Aramis had hardly bought himself anything in his life; item after item which D’Artagnan had seen the man possess turned out to be gifts, from the saddle on his horse to the knife he used to trim his beard. Porthos was just about to tell the story behind a pair of braes when the door handle turned at last and Aramis slipped inside, shivering in his overcoat and clutching a satchel.

“Well, speak of the Devil, here he comes,” Porthos cried. “What was the gift from the mistress this year, eh?”

Aramis closed the door behind him wordlessly. He dropped the satchel from his shoulder so abruptly that it collided with the floor with a resounding thump that had a note of precarious breakability. For a moment, it seemed as though he had not heard the question directed at him, but the real reason for his silence became apparent when, in one swift and well-honed gesture, he whipped a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to his face. “Heh’ETCHHH!”

Aramis lowered the handkerchief just enough to give his reply. “A cold,” he croaked bitterly, though of course such a resounding sneeze had been answer enough in its own right. “She claimed to be well but… Heh’Heh’KSHHHH!” The handkerchief was back in place, his speech muffled into the folds. “Clearly that was–EHhh’KMPSSHH! Ugh, God.”

With a miserable sniffle and a wipe, Aramis tucked the handkerchief back away. He dragged a chair back from the table a bit, until its back was flush with the wall, and plopped unceremoniously into it. He slumped, tipping his head back against the wall, shutting his eyes for a long blink. He waved his hand. “Don’t come too close, this isn’t one of the gifts I want to give to you.”

“Rotten gift,” Porthos said, brow furrowed, voice full of gruff sympathy. “Did she give you anything else?”

Aramis blinked his eyes back open. “A lovely tortoiseshell hair comb but–Snf!” He rubbed at his rapidly reddening nose with the back of his knuckles, his nostrils glistening and twitching. “This is the gift which is most memorable. Ihhh’KRSHHHH’uhh!” Aramis dipped forward into his cupped hands, lingering in such a position for a silent, sniffling moment before straightening again. He rubbed at his throat.

“Ow,” he pronounced clearly. “And which I’m least grateful for.”

Athos poured him a cupful of wine, and Aramis took it gratefully, downing it all in one go with a pronounced wince and a cough. They spoke a bit with Aramis about his travels, asking after the food (lovely), the ride (easy), the weather (horrid), before Aramis shook his head with an airy cough.

“But I’ve wasted enough time with my tardiness!” he cried, and retrieved his satchel. “Let us not waste any more with such idle chatter. Let us exchange our gifts, now four of us instead of three.”

D’Artagnan smiled, feeling his own bag at the floor between his feet. “Who should go first?”

Athos inclined his head as he set down his cup. “How about Aramis, since he’s already received a gift?”

Aramis flashed a smirk at him. “Funny.” His voice was so occluded he could not help a rather unseemly throat clearing and snuffle combination, but still Aramis brought the satchel to his lap and begin to sift through its contents. His downward gaze created a veritable flood out of his already runny nose, and he sniffled on each breath as he considered what was in the satchel carefully, deliberation over whose gift to give first written clearly across his twitching features.

At last, he reached decisively into the pouch, but had to abort the action almost as soon as he had done it, for a massive sneeze came over him. The hand came up to hurriedly cup over his nose. “Hh’TSCHHH!“ Hehh’ISHshhh! Oh, excuse me,” he said, voice all congestion, as he pinched and wiped away at his nose. He looked down at his fingers, and blushed. “Could I trouble one of you for a handkerchief? This cold is all in my nose.”

His friends had seen the mess upon his hands as clearly as he, and so D’Artagnan, perhaps just as eager as Aramis to be rid of such a sight, was up and offering his own handkerchief to the man in an instant. “Here.”

“Thank you,” Aramis said, and cleaned up his hand as much as his face.

“Please, keep it,” D’Artagnan said forcefully as he took his seat again. “Merry Christmas.”

Aramis gave a grateful nod as he buried his nose into it and gave a blow so soggy and forceful that D’Artagnan winced. “Well, since our Gascon has so generously given me a gift already,” Aramis said with a smile, giving the handkerchief a demonstrative wave. “I will start with him.”

He reached into the satchel, pulled out a pair of black leather gloves lined with fur, and leaned forward to pass them to D’Artagnan. “To preserve the warmth of your fragile, Gascon hands against the cruelty of the Paris wind.”

D’Artagnan gaped a bit as he took the gift from his friend, and his mouth dropped open further as he tugged the snug leather over his fingers. He flexed and clenched his fist, examining his gloved hand from all angles. “They fit perfectly, Aramis,” he said in a hushed voice. “How did you know–”

Aramis grinned cheekily. “How soon you forget just how many times I had to reposition those very hands on a musket.”

D’Artagnan blushed crimson at the reminder of his green incompetence. “Thank you,” he said after another long moment spent gazing at the leather. “This is truly a thoughtful gift, my friend.”

“Now I better not hear you complaining of the cold ever again,” Porthos said, cupping his hands over his mouth and blowing into them obnoxiously loudly, a mimic of D’Artagnan’s chosen method of warming and passive-aggressive complaint whenever the wind had the slightest nip to it. D’Artagnan removed one of the gloves and swatted Porthos on the shoulder with it.

“Careful!” Aramis admonished playfully. “Perhaps you won’t be so quick to violence against your friend once you see what I’ve gotten him.”

This time, Aramis produced a small knife in a delicately patterned wooden casing from the satchel, and held it in an outstretched arm. “Take it, Porthos, I have to–” The precarious waver in Aramis’s breath left no ambiguity to his meaning, and so Porthos quickly snatched the item from him. Aramis snapped forward, tucking his chin to his chest and involuntarily squeezing the satchel close. “HETCHHH!”

He dug out the handkerchief again and held it hovering just inches away from his quivering, dripping nose as his breath hitched in preparation for another. “Ihhh… Oh…Snf!” Aramis teetered a moment on the precipice. His eyes, glazed and misty, looked nowhere in particular as they fluttered shut once more. “IHHH’KSHHH’uhhh!”

Porthos unsheathed the knife from its casing, and turned it over in his hands, recognizing at once that it was a woodworking knife. It felt instantly more comfortable in his grasp as he mimicked a whittling motion than did his dagger.

“It’s beautiful,” Porthos murmured. “Thank you, mon ami.”

“So that you no longer have to sully the blade of your dagger when boredom strikes on a mission.” As he spoke, Aramis rubbed his nose with the handkerchief, making slow and squelchy circles, trying to draw out the remaining tickle. “Hehhh’ISHHH’oo!” The sneeze which he had coaxed forth was harsh and wet, leaving moisture behind not only beneath his nose but also his eyes. Aramis huffed an annoyed laugh and scrubbed at his eyes and his nose a couple times with the handkerchief. “Ugh, I’mb leaking.”

The three friends shared a look while the fourth cleaned himself up, but nothing more was said on the matter. Aramis let the handkerchief fall into a sad, sodden bundle on his lap while he retrieved the last item from his satchel. The glass bottle had been the source of the clatter when the bag had hit the floor earlier, but fortunately the wine was undamaged.

“And for Athos.”

Athos took the bottle reverently, his eyes widening as he realized its contents cost about ten times the amount he usually spent on his vice. “Aramis, this is… expensive.”

Aramis smiled, even as his nose dripped. “Your skills of appraisal are astute as always.”

Athos shook his head. “No, Aramis, I mean it, this is–”

“Heh’KSHHHH’oo! Ehhh’HISHHH!” Aramis gave a clogged laugh as he squeezed his nose between two folds of the handkerchief to wipe it. “See? Snf! Even my nose has no patience for your foolish protestations.”

“Then, I see no other option but to open it and share it with friends.”

Athos uncorked the bottle and poured from it into each of their cups, mistakenly dribbling a bit on the table near where D’Artagnan’s gloves lay. Horrified at their proximity to destruction, D’Artagnan snatched the gloves away and squawked at Athos, who rallied with a calm, choice set of words of his own. Porthos laughed as they squibbled and Aramis, for his part, merely slumped a bit in his chair, unnoticed.

Porthos opened his mouth to quip something at Aramis, only to find the man had leaned his head back against the wall, screwing his eyes shut and pinching at the bridge of his nose. When Aramis seemed about to stay that way indefinitely, Porthos scooted his chair around the table, closer to his friend. Aramis gave no indication he had heard the move. Porthos frowned and nudged him with an elbow. “Hey, are you feeling alright?”

Aramis lowered his hand and blinked, a bit heavy and startled as though he’d forgotten where he was. “Yes, I’ve…” He blew out a sigh, and even that sounded stopped to the brim with congestion. “I’ve just got this terrible headache.”

Porthos’s frown deepened. “Just now?”

Aramis’s gaze flicked from friend to friend, as they were all watching him intently now. He sighed again, finishing with a tickly cough. “All day,” he admitted quietly. “It’s only been getting worse.”

“Why don’t you go lie down?” Athos said, voice as gentle as it was firm. “We will fetch you before Reveillon.”

Between the tenderness in his ordinarily stoic friend’s voice and the incessant pounding in his own head, there was little room for resistance to such a sound suggestion, and so Aramis rose gingerly, feeling his muscles sore from the cold, his cold, and all the riding he had done. He gathered his satchel on his shoulder and began to shuffle toward the door, when Athos’s voice stopped him.

“Where are you going?”

Aramis fixed him with a bewildered expression. “To go lie down?”

Athos huffed, as close to a laugh as anything he ever did. “Surely your brain is not so addled with cold that you don’t remember my bedchamber is that way?” He pointed in the opposite direction.

Aramis blinked as Athos’s intention broke through the mist in his brain. “Your bed… Athos, no.” He sniffled and coughed. “Not with a cold like this.”

“Well,” Athos said, reclining disinterestedly in his chair, “if you prefer to trudge all the way back to your apartments in the biting wind, I shan’t stop you.”

Aramis chewed at his chapped lip. “Still, I hate the thought that I could pass this along… I hate the thought of giving you such an unfortunate gift. Any of you.”

“We’ve all gotten our fair share of unfortunate gifts.” Porthos chuckled, shaking his head. “Remember when Athos gave me a book before I could read?”

Athos’s cheeks blushed the faintest of pinks, but his eyes narrowed at Porthos. “Remember when you gave Aramis what you were convinced was lavender oil, but which made his hands red and blistered and itchy for weeks?”

D’Artagnan shrugged and added, “My cousin gave me a collar for a dog I didn’t even have.”

Aramis gave a congested, but happy-sounding laugh, and coughed wetly into the handkerchief. He smiled tenderly at his friends, who were laughing too, but before he could add to the conversation, a sneeze stole his breath, sending him hitching into the sodden handkerchief. “Hhhh’ehhh’EHHDSKHH!”

“Go lie down, my friend,” Athos said, and Aramis nodded through his snuffling. He raised his hand and the handkerchief it held in a haphazard farewell before crumpling back into it as he shuffled away to Athos’s bedchamber. “Heh’RSHHH!”

The trio who remained turned their gifts over in their hands, discussing them all in subdued marvel. When enough time had passed that the three friends were sure the fourth had fallen asleep, they assembled a tray to leave on his bedside table for when he woke. Sure enough, the congested snores which filled the bedchamber advertised that they had been correct in their assessment, and so they shuffled quietly in, depositing their gifts beside their sleeping friend, bundled beneath the bedcovers. They had left him two handkerchiefs–Athos’s and Porthos’s sacrificed to the cause now just as surely as D’Artagnan’s–as well as a mug of tea and some mint paste Athos had found in his cupboard. They were unconventional gifts for Christmas, to be sure, and likely not exactly what Aramis envisioned himself in want of, but that was no matter. There would be time for more exchanging of gifts when Aramis was well again.

#answered asks #december prompt fill #christmas sickfic #sick ara/mis #more muskie snz!!!#the world needs so much more historic snz fic #snz fic #my writing

36 notes · View notes

sailormoon-snz · 1 year

Text

it’s christmas eve, so HEAR ME OUT YALL:

A, B, and a few friends are all having a christmas dinner, right? keep in mind there was always extremely strong sexual tension between A and B. well luckily, A is suuuuper sick. they’re hiding it somewhat well, stepping out of the room to cough or snz. as well as keeping their sniffling to a minimum. at some point, somebody lights christmas candles to “set the mood,” and A’s nose just goes crazy. while they’re at the table, A starts sneezing uncontrollably, their embarrassing almost stronger than the sneezes. B, being quick to react, excuses A from the table and leads them to the bathroom, where they would soon finish their fit. B, confused as shit, has to make sure A’s okay. something like:

B: “Jesus, bless you. Are you okay?”

A: -snf- “I think so.. god, that was so embarrassing. Everyone’s gonna be so upset with me a-and—”

-B kisses A to shut them up-

B: “They won’t be upset, since you can’t help that you’re sick.”

A, flustered: “H-How’d you know I’m—”

B: *giggling* “You may fool everyone else, but you can’t fool me.”

#snz #snzblr #snz kink #sneeze #christmas special #happy holidays yall!!!!!!!#ily all <333

28 notes · View notes

veersnz · 5 months

Text

So it turns out it's not a cold after all-

It's RSV 💀

#why #how did that even happen #there go my Christmas holidays i guess #ugh #the frustration #not snz #but kinda ?

5 notes · View notes

softsnzstuff · 1 year

Text

JQ Sick at Christmas

WOW not me being actually like 3 weeks late to posting this. I’m so sorry! Just a soft lil JQ/JCB drabble.

Summary: J/oseph’s been rocking a fever/the flu for the last couple of days - sleeping mostly - but hot chocolate and Christmas movies is something he can’t resist. 🎄

PLEASE DONT REBLOG TO NON-KINK BLOGS

December 20

Jamie takes a sip of his coffee and starts singing along to ‘Do They Know It’s Christmas’ on the radio as he unpacks the small boxes of ornaments. The 8 foot noble fir has been standing tall but barren in their London apartment for over a week now.

Joe’s been asking to decorate for days, but one of them always had some work commitment or another. Now that it was so close to Christmas, they were both off work and ready to decorate.

Jamie had busted out the ornaments and string lights early that morning while Joe slept in. It wasn’t too unusual for him to relax more on off days but he was usually up by now.

As if on cue, Joe pads down the stairs in some black sweatpants and a Christmas jumper. He smiles when he sees that Jamie has started setting up already.

“Do we finally get to decorate?” He beamed.

“I thought we could.” Jamie smiled back, kissing him on the cheek. “Are you cold?”

It was December in London, but the heat was turned up. Jamie was in pajama pants and a white tee.

“Just thought I’d be festive.” Joe lied, looking at his jumper. He’d been chilly since the night prior and hadn’t been able to quite get warm yet.

Cheerful music rang out as they wrapped the lights around the tree. Once that was out of the way, they started picking ornaments out one by one and adding them to the branches.

Jamie was hanging up one of the new Stranger Things ornaments they got as a gag gift from Maya when he noticed Joseph had stopped and had the heel of his hand pressed to his temple.

“Alright love?”

“Nghh… yeah just a headache.”

“Want some paracetamol?” Jamie suggested.

“Sure.” Joe walked to the kitchen and opened the cupboard to find the bottle he was looking for. He tapped out two pills and swallowed them before rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand.

He tried to sniffle back the tickle that had settled in the back of his sinuses, but it only aggravated it further. Joe cupped a hand over his nose as he snapped at the waist.

“H’iKSHTiew!”

“Bless you!” Jamie called out from the next room.

“… H’aeITSCHew! snfsnff”

“And again!”

Joe popped back into the living room, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jumper. Jamie hung the ornament he was holding on the tree and pulled Joe into a hug.

“Are you getting sick, darling?” Jamie mumbled into his ear.

Joe pulled back from the hug and tried to give Jamie his most convincing gaze. “I’m fine.”

*****

December 24

“I need you to open your mouth for me, sweetheart.” Jamie purrs softly as he perches on the edge of their King bed.

Joe blindly obliges as his partner slides the cool metal instrument under his tongue. After telling Jamie he was fine when they decorated the tree earlier in the week, he quickly developed a sore throat. The congestion had set in by that evening, and the next morning, he’d woken up with a fever.

The younger man has been in bed for the better part of the last 4 days, either sleeping or watching mindless tv. He feels woozy as Jamie runs a cold hand over his clammy forehead and through his hair, almost like he’s floating. He somehow feels too hot and too cold and his whole body feels like jelly.

A faint beeping snaps him out of his fevered trance, just long enough to see Jamie frown at him.

“38.8°C ((102°F)).” He sighs, “You just stay in bed today and let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

Joe blinks slowly and nods his head slightly, his body disagreeing with the movement. Jamie disappears and he slowly falls into a deep sleep.

***

The thirty three year old keeps himself entertained for a few hours downstairs, reading, cleaning and playing some quiet guitar.

He eats dinner by himself - Joe’s not had an appetite for the last two or three days despite Jamie trying to get him to eat some toast or applesauce.

After dinner he heads upstairs to see if Joe needs anything. The younger man is down for the count, fast asleep with lips slightly parted as congested snores fill the room.

Trying to be quiet, Jamie tidies up a bit, binning the tissues scattered around the floor, taking the empty tea mugs to be washed in the kitchen, and leaving a new ice water on the bedside stand next to the paracetamol and tissues.

He heads back downstairs, wanting to do something Christmassy. It is Christmas Eve after all. He throws on ‘Love, Actually’, a quintessential British classic, and sets a small plate of Christmas cookies on the table next to Joe’s bottles of DayQuil and NyQuil from earlier.

He heats up some homemade hot chocolate on the stove before making himself comfortable on the couch to watch the film.

Ant and Dec pop on the screen to introduce Billy Mack when Jamie hears coughing coming from upstairs.

A few moments later, he sees Joe slowly (and tiredly) making his way down the stairs with a blanket draped over his shoulders. His eyes have a fever glaze to them, complimenting his flushed cheeks.

“What’re you doing out of bed Joseph?” Jamie stands up to pull him into a hug.

“SNF! Wanted to spend time with you on Christmas.” He said innocently.

Jamie melted slightly, easing Joe onto the couch, “Alright love. Can I get you some dinner?”

Jamie knew the attempt was futile. He expected the answer before it came.

Joe leaned back into the couch cushions and rubbed at his nose with a knuckle. “N’dot hu’gry. iiTSCHuhew! H’eKSHTiew!”

“Bless you!”

Joe pouted and groaned slightly.

“What about some hot chocolate? Think you can drink some of that?”

Joe nodded after a minute of contemplation. Jamie pressed the warm mug to his partners hands and sat down next to him, pulling him close.

“Sorry I m’bessed up all of our Christm’bas plans.” Joe murmured apologetically.

Jamie kissed the top of his head.

“You didn’t ruin any plans. The best Christmas is just spending it with you.”

#s/tranger t/hings #j/oseph q/uinn #j/amie c/ampbell b/ower #fevers #sickfic #snzblr #kb writes #christmas snz

31 notes · View notes

blu-archer · 1 year

Text

Warmth after Christmas

Caretaker: Jin

Sickie: Yoongi

m/m - fluff

Word count: 4498

*As usual, there might be errors - just vibe with it.*

*Belated Happy New Year everyone! 🥰I hope you're all safe and healthy wherever you are in the world! This was meant to be posted like a week ago in the shadows of Christmas, but I was procrastinating editing. Also, this can be read as stand alone, but I did write it with the characters of a previous fic in mind, which I'll link below. it might suck, it might not... I kind of can't tell anymore, so hopefully you guys enjoy it!!*

Jin heaved up the bags of leftovers, causing the handles to dig into his forearms as he unlocked and opened the front door to his boyfriend’s house. The weather had thankfully let up enough for him to make the journey, not that he expected Yoongi to be awake any time before now. As warm and adorably affectionate as he knows the younger could be, he also knew that Yoongi was most definitively not a morning person and has threatened bodily harm upon being woken too early before.

Not to him of course – or at least not without the dry humor and sass attached to his tone whenever Jin had managed to nudge him awake.

But it was rounding close to 10am and if Yoongi wasn’t awake by now Jin was prepared to face whatever grumpiness that he would find. Right after he dumped half of his leftover Christmas dinner in his boyfriends’ fridge, of course.

“Yoon?” Jin called as he waltzed through the familiar lounge and kitchen. He didn’t get a response other than Holly rushing to welcome him with excited barks and a full body tail wag. “Yoongi, are you awake?”

Silence.

Even Holly seemed to have held his breath in wait of a reply, then proceeded to try to wiggle and jump in Jin’s way for attention when he went to pack everything he’d brought away. it took a bit of reorganizing in Yoongi’s fridge to fit everything, but it was in and his boyfriend would be fed for the rest of the week without having to put any effort into cooking. Then he followed Holly to the master bedroom only to find what he’d thought he’d see.

The clothes worn from the day before was thrown over the back of the chair pushed to the side and Yoongi was curled up into a bundled ball in the center of his bed with only his messy blonde hair and soft snores making an appearance from outside of the dark blankets. Jin reached out to reveal his face but then retreated with a smile. It was getting late into the morning, but Yoongi didn’t often get the chance to sleep in until a ridiculous time, so he’d let him.

Maybe he could cook up a light breakfast, something to pass as a brunch with some tea. Yoongi would surely disapprove of the drink but if Jin played it right maybe he’d finally start brushing healthier habits onto the other.

He winked at Holly, playfully waving his fingers at the dog as he leapt up and curled against his dad, his tail smacking loudly against the comforter. Jin moved back to the kitchen with renowned purpose as he began to work quietly.

Yoongi regretted all his recent life choices.

He knew that he shouldn’t have been roped into the antics of the younger members of their friend group as easily as what he was, but in his defense, none of them could really resist Jungkook’s Bambi eyes – especially when he wanted something. The hours long snowball fight that had rapidly turned into a full-scale war had seemed like a fairly good idea at the time, even Jin had taken a break from the kitchen to help his cousin build little snow ducklings. They’d even spent the afternoon bundled up on the veranda at Jin’s house and watched a fresh layer fall and fill the tracks that they’d made earlier.

It had probably been the most fun Christmas he’d had since his childhood, but the childlike joy that had come with it had quickly worn off when he’d woken up the next day. His body ached with exhaustion before he could even bring himself to open his eyes and his head and throat throbbed in in gentle pulses.

With a low moan he twisted and reached out to the space beside him, seeking a warm body that wasn’t there. Belatedly, he remembered that Soekjin had dropped him off at home after they’d spent the last few hours of the night trying to kick out and carpool their friends out of Jin’s house. Holly had needed to be fed and Jin’s place wasn’t exactly dog friendly, so he had made the decision to kiss his boyfriend goodnight, grinning tiredly into Jin’s soft, whispered prompts of rest and late morning visits. Despite his obvious exhaustion, he’d been excited for Jin to spend some more time alone with him. Now though, he wanted nothing more than to remain buried beneath his blankets and hopefully not have to move a muscle until his body didn’t hate him anymore.

He curled into his pillows and pulled the blankets half over his face to muffle the light that seeped past his curtains. Vaguely Holly could be heard puttering around the house, but the sounds were as if he was submerged in water.

A noise startled Jin from his cooking, so much so he had almost knocked over his tea when he’d spun around. The noise, as it turned out, had been a soft cough and the shuffling entry of his boyfriend – barefooted and rumpled with sleep while Holly padded around at his feet, watching him with large hopeful eyes that could only be asking for attention. Unfortunately for Holly, it seemed like his owner wouldn’t have been able to focus on anything that wasn’t a bed in that moment.

“Are you still asleep?” Jin held out his tea for the other to sip on to gain some awareness before turning back to the stove.

Yoongi squinted at the coffee mug extended towards him, then up at Jin’s face. His lips pursed into a tired pout.

“Yoongi… Are you sleepwalking? Because I read somewhere that I shouldn’t touch a person that’s sleepwalking, but wouldn’t it be bad to leave them be? What if you hurt yourself? How else would I wake you up?”

“I’m awake.” He murmured with the subtlest of smiles, slowly grasping the cup which most definitely did not have coffee in it. Much to his displeasure. “I just didn’t expect to see you here. We spent all of yesterday together, so I thought…”

Jin paused in his cooking, just for a moment, considering the words. He hadn’t seen a problem with coming over, but Yoongi did value his isolation after being around too many people. Maybe he should have messaged first… “I can leave if you want some time to yourself?” He responded with a smile, trying not to cave into the doubt that was beginning to grow as he turned back to the stove. “Just let me finish up with this breakfast really quick and then- oh.”

Warmth enveloped him as Yoongi slid into his space, resting his weight against Jin’s side until the elder wrapped his arms around him. The drink in Yoongi’s hand uncomfortably hot as it pressed into his stomach.

“Don’t leave.” Yoongi spoke hoarsely against the material of Jin’s shirt. “I’m so tired, but I don’t want you to leave. I just thought- I don’t know. You’d go with your cousins to see your family or something.”

That at least eased the disheartenment in Jin’s chest. He lowered the heat under his pans and then pulled Yoongi in closer, tight enough to almost take the younger off his feet, then pressed a kiss to his forehead. He did it again when he got the satisfaction of watching Yoongi shyly twist his face towards the ground, cheeks pink and smile gradually growing.

“You’re family too.” And that was all the answer needed. “I was being serious about you being asleep though.” Jin moved to grab one of the dining chairs from the table just outside of the kitchen and gestured for Yoongi to sit while he continued cooking breakfast. “Did you rest after I dropped you off last night? You look more…”

“Bleh than usual?” Yoongi interrupted as he collapsed into the seat.

Jin shrugged. ‘bleh’ wasn’t usually something he’d use as an adjective for his boyfriend, but it did seem kind of fitting for the occasion.

Yoongi ran a hand through his hair. Rumpling it further from its sleep messed state. There was one tuft that seemed dead set on standing determinedly vertical, but it only made the soft, sleepy vibe Yoongi was emitting more endearing. “I think I’ve got a cold. Or getting one. It’s nothing serious, just a few aches so far. I’m mostly just tired.”

The heat was promptly flipped off. “We probably shouldn’t have been in the snow for as long as we were yesterday, huh?” There was only a hum of agreement. “Well, I have no qualms about dealing with a sleepy Yoonie. As long as you don’t drool on me.” Jin teased, knowing that Yoongi would probably withdraw if he came across as too concerned.

He had to bite his lip to keep from giggling about the soft pink that seemed to fill Yoongi’s cheeks once more. Despite his tired appearance, Jin couldn’t help but swoon inwardly at how Yoongi shifted shyly with a soft smile, drowning in loose flannel pajama’s that seemed a size or two too big and hugging the mug of tea that Jin had given him close to his neck, embracing the soothing warmth from the mug rather than the tea itself.

“Drink that.” Jin said with a pointed look, finally finishing off their food and pulling out bowls to dish into. “It’s herbal, one of Tae’s.”

“In other words, the least caffeinated thing one could possibly consume in my house.” Yoongi muttered with a disgusted frown towards the steaming liquid.

“Don’t be dramatic. It’s good for you.”

Yoongi hummed, taking a small sip to appease the other but still shooting an exhausted, longing glance towards his coffee machine.

Jin had been halfway through a battle match that he was already losing when Yoongi stirred. He hadn’t noticed at first, the man tended to shift in his sleep, but it was a definite confirmation when Yoongi hurriedly twisted from Jin’s lap and into his elbow with a deep sneeze. Then another that seemed to tear just as deeply from his throat and left him muffling painful never-ending coughs as Jin rubbed his back gently – not even watching his character crumple in defeat on the screen as he kept a strong grip on his boyfriends’ arm to keep him from falling from the couch.

Yoongi’s nose was definitely dripping, he could feel it on his lip as he sniffled to keep it at bay. Yet it left him with itchy hitching breaths that seemed to only transpire into agonizing empty threats. He couldn’t even bring himself to open his eyes yet in fear that the lights might make the frustrating sensation any worse.

Jin ran his hand through Yoongi’s tangled hair, the younger still hidden into his arm as if waiting for more to come. There wasn’t any heat coming off him, and he wasn’t sweating or complaining of chills, so at least Jin didn’t have to help ease any fevers. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had really looked after someone that was ill besides himself, and even then, his self-care wasn’t that great, so he really hoped that whatever Yoongi had seemed to catch wasn’t going to get worse. Or else Jin was going to have to start relying on the internet and calls to his mom, the latter being mildly embarrassing considering he’d lived alone for a while now and was probably expected to know basic health care. He honestly wasn’t as good at the whole care taking thing as Yoongi was, but he would at least be present and helpful in small things. He could at least manage that with ease, and hopefully that was enough.

He scratched soft and slow at Yoongi’s scalp, gently easing him back into cushions of the couch. There wasn’t much resistance, just the youngers body welcoming the least amount of effort and relying on gravity and momentum to move. It didn’t stop the soft moaning sigh to escape him as he finally lowered his arm and looked up at Jin pitifully.

“You look like you need a nap.” Jin teased, setting his controller aside and leaning into Yoongi’s warmth. “Your eyebags are starting to show.”

Yoongi moaned again, letting his head fall back.

Jin had a suspicion the reaction was entirely catered towards him with how he was lightly shoved in the arm, so at least his boyfriend still had some semblance of personality despite spending the last few hours practically comatose.

“I can’t – h’eSHH’uh..” Jin started as Yoongi hastily snapped forward, pressing his hand to his face. “Hih’he’EH-IKSHEW! H’EKSHHEW!” He sniffled wetly, swiping a sleeved wrist under his nose with a grimace. “Sorry… I cad’t sleep.”

“Maybe it’s the couch?”

Yoongi sniffled uselessly – Jin could very much see the peeking of liquid under his boyfriend’s nose, although Yoongi probably didn’t even care at this point. “Id’s ndot the couch.” He stated tiredly, closing his eyes until he belatedly raised his fist to cough into. “Please ged bme something to blow bmy dose.”

“Tissues. Coming right up.”

He disappeared to the bedroom to see if there were tissues hidden away in Yoongi’s wardrobe – he had once admitted that he kept a higher quality stash there for himself and , quote unquote, ‘people that he felt deserved them’, but it seemed like he must not have had the chance to restock after the last time they were used since there were only a few left in the open box.

Jin grabbed it anyway and then stopped in the bathroom to snatch a roll of toilet paper just in case. It would be rough on the poor man’s already rubbed red nose, but it would have to do.

“You’re almost out, but I can run to the store later?” Jin settled into his seat once more, watching with concern as Yoongi immediately raised a hand to cover his hitching breaths. The other slipping into the open tissue box and pulling out a few that he brought up to his face, faltering with a frown as his hitching froze until a sneeze tore out from him, the mess thankfully being caught behind his shield of tissues.

“Bless you love.” Jin said softly, rubbing small circles into Yoongi’s thigh when he heard the hoarse ‘ow’ before Yoongi tried to clear his sinuses. “Thinking about it now, the stores close early today. If they’re open at all. I can run out now and get some stuff for you if you want? It should still be early enough.”

Yoongi shook his head, dropping the used tissues onto the center coffee table before grabbing a fresh one to hold in his grasp as he adjusted to settle further into Jin’s side – eventually resting forehead into the curve of Jin’s neck, hot breath hitting his collar bone.

“Just leave it. I have some medicine lying around,” he coughed, quick to try muffle it into his tissue. “If I run out or can’t find any, I’ll just ask my neighbor’s if they have anything to spare.”

That was good enough for him. Jin wrapped his arms around Yoongi, pulling him closer until he was comfortably on his lap – face still persistently buried into his neck.

After a few moments Jin teasingly asked, “Are you comfortable? Am I the Body pillow of your dreams?”

“Mmm.” Yoongi hummed, setting a gentle kiss just below Jin’s jaw. “The best body pillow.”

Jin grinned, having expected blatant denial. “Really? The most comfortable? The best scented? Most good-looking?”

Yoongi scoffed, pulling away just enough to be able to meet Jin’s eyes while remaining comfortable against him. “Well I can’t really smell you right now, my nose is stuffy.”

“I smell amazing.” Jin reassured, filling with mirth as he heard Yoongi’s laughter. It was hoarse and kind of crackly, but it radiated a warmth that anyone would be addicted to. “It should not surprise you.”

“Of course,” Yoongi yawned, but tried to grin through it. “How foolish of me to think otherwise. Forgive me.”

Jin pecked a kiss to Yoongi’s lips, smiling as his boyfriends’ humor bled into astonishment. “Forgiven. Now, maybe we should go to the bedroom so you can get rest. I’ll look for some Nyquil and maybe that will help you to fall asleep without this nose bothering you too much.”

“You- You can’t kiss me, you idiot!” Yoongi frowned as his boyfriend broke into a low chuckle. “And you’ll get bored in the room … I want to stay with you.”

“I won’t get bored. I’ll grab your laptop and find a series or something to watch while you sleep, or who knows, I might just fall asleep as well. Yesterday was really draining with everyone and the thought of sleeping next to you is actually quite appealing right now.”

Yoongi flushed and Jin took the opportunity to kiss him again, smirking at how Yoongi hadn’t pulled away but still mumbled soft complaints.

“Let me kiss you. You deserve to be kissed. Plus, I’m probably going to get sick either way if I’m spending all this time with you.” Jin reached over to place the practically empty tissue box and toilet roll in Yoongi’s lap before he slipped his hands under his legs and behind his back, lifting a startled Yoongi into his arms as he stood up. “We may as well embrace it, Yoon’s.”

“You’re such a pain.” Yoongi sighed not without content, turning to bury his face into Jin’s shoulder as he was carried through his home. Jin had a point anyway, he was breathing his germs all over the place already, it was up to Jin’s immune system to save him now.

“Do you want to grab your medicine?” Jin stopped, readjusting him in his grip with a gentle hop. “Where do you keep that?”

“Kitchen. Should be in a shelf by the fridge if I have any.”

He changed course to the kitchen.

Thankfully it did seem that Yoongi had bought medicine recently, probably for one of their colleagues at work – the chef was known to carry an emergency kit of multiple over the counter medications in case of emergencies, especially with the waiting staff who seemed to be more prone to illness than anyone else at the restaurant.

So, he maneuvered Yoongi as close as possible so that the man could reach the bottle that he needed along with a hastily half-filled glass of water – because while Jin did frequently gym and Yoongi wasn’t that heavy, his arms were screaming at him just a little bit at this point and he didn’t want to accidentally drop his boyfriend, especially when he was already sick.

Once he was in the bedroom he set Yoongi on the unmade bed, careful not to make him spill yet failing as Yoongi tsked and gave him a halfhearted glare when some of the water was somehow jostled up from the glass and onto his pajamas.

“Sorry, let me just get some air flow in here quick.” Jin smoothed down an endearingly wild tuft of Yoongi’s hair. “Get comfortable so long.”

He moved to a set of large windows along the right wall of the room and pushed them open a little bit, just enough for a chilled breeze to gradually push in, even though he could hear Yoongi whining about it as he tried to unnecessarily make his bed neater. The room was a spacious, yet cozy area filled with neutral tones, dominantly black, except for the bright pink and purple fluffy carpet that he had bought for Yoongi on his last birthday which he was like 80% sure Yoongi hated but would never get rid of it even though Jin said that he could if he wanted to. Despite it being quite big, definitely larger than his own bedroom, it did tend to get a bit stuffy sometimes and he was pretty sure that wasn’t a good sick person environment. Was it currently freezing outside? Sure. The weather had taken a turn once again and a new layer of snow was being thickly blanketed on the world outside, but he will just keep Yoongi warm inside along with having fresh air.

“You can borrow some more comfortable clothes if you want.” Yoongi rubbed at his nose and pulled the blankets over him as he watched Jin from his seat in bed. Everything that he’d been carrying before was set haphazardly on his bedside table.

Jin found some of his own clothes that had either been stolen or left behind from the last time he was there and changed before there was any drastic change to the temperature in the room, then slipped beneath the covers next to Yoongi.

“It’s cold in here now.”

“It’s fresh air.” Jin poked Yoongi in the side, reaching across him to get the medicine. “Do you want to take it now?”

“Nah.” Yoongi sniffed, staring at the bottle in contemplation then shook his head firmly. “Nah, lets watch a movie. Sick day movie marathon that I will probably fall asleep to, but I want to try anyway.” He reached into his bedside table, a bit awkwardly with the angle, and found his laptop to pull up something to watch.

Jin smiled as Yoongi setup the laptop in between them with enough space that they could still kind of curl into each other, then clicked on the first thing he saw that seemed moderately decent.

“’The Holiday’?”

“It’s a good movie.” He rubbed at his nose, reaching for a tissue to blow it. “Seemed appropriate. Christmas stuff. Family.”

“I suppose it is. Kind of. I – Bless you.” He slipped one arm behind Yoongi’s shoulders as the younger pitched forward with a sharp, sudden sneeze. “I just realized that we’ve been dating over a year now, it feels like so much longer than that.”

Yoongi wiped his nose hesitantly, swopping his used tissue for the toilet roll to hug close to his chest as support. “We’ve been friends for years, Hyung. I didn’t even reali-ih’ heh’ECHHew! HE’IKCHH’uh! Ow. Oh mby god. Jusd end bme.” He coughed deeply, sounding worse than before with an increasing dampness in his chest.

Jin reached out to unroll a few sheets of the roll for Yoongi, narrowly missing being sneezed on, much to Yoongi’s embarrassment.

“Here, blow your nose again.” He pressed the paper over Yoongi’s cupped hand, holding it there until Yoongi took it himself and coughed into it before clearing some of his congestion. “I think you should take your medicine now rather. We can watch the movie later again if you fall asleep now, I just… I don’t know how I’m supposed to help exactly. I’m not as good as you at taking care of people, so please don’t fight me on this.” He spoke with a tender yet unsure voice that had Yoongi watching him carefully while cleaning himself up. “I just don’t want you to get worse…”

Yoongi cleared his throat, then sighed and sunk down into his pillows with his body still facing Jin. “Fine, I’ll take it now and then we watch the movie. But if I fall asleep and drool on you, you can’t complain about it. Understand?”

Jin grinned, leaning to kiss at Yoongi’s hairline. “I look forward to it.”

Yoongi lasted until just after the halfway point, although Jin gives him points for trying. He’d been yawning so much 10 minutes in that Jin had thought he wouldn’t have lasted two minutes longer. The room had darkened with both the afternoon light pairing with the heavy cloud coverage outside and they had piled blankets on to shield them from the cold. Yoongi’s breath still sounded a bit short, and Jin could feel him mouth breathing against where he had curled into his chest, but the rest of his symptoms had been minimal besides him needing to blow his nose more often.

There wasn’t much point in switching to a new movie, he hadn’t really paid attention to the last one, so he shut off the laptop and gently untangled himself from his sleeping boyfriend and packed the laptop away, careful to not to make to much noise or movement even if it was a fact the Yoongi could sleep like the dead.

Jin grabbed the now empty glass beside Yoongi and left to the kitchen to refill it. Holly bounded into him, his fur and jersey were slightly damp, probably having used the built-in doggy door to go outside but the cold didn’t seem to have lowered his spirits in the least.

“Do you want some food, baby? Come, lets get you some food. Your Appa isn’t feeling well enough to get up and feed you right now, so you’ll have to deal with some ordinary dog food tonight.”

Jin picked Holly up, embracing the frantic tongue licks before the dog eased calmly in his arms. There was something peaceful about how quiet, yet homey Yoongi’s home felt as he dished out some dog food – sliding on a few slices of meat from the Christmas leftovers he’d brought after Holly had seen him dish up some for himself.

After eating he moved around to clean up the couch from earlier, turning off the game he had completely forgotten about and picking up the stranded used tissues to throw away. He then washed and dried all the dishes he’d made that morning before taking two glasses of water back to the bedroom. Holly followed lazily behind him until he realized Yoongi was asleep, only too eager to race ahead onto the bed to climb on top of him.

“That man has way too much patience for you.” Jin chuckled, putting down the glasses then moving to close the windows a bit more since it had gotten a bit too chilly in the room now and slid the curtains shut. Climbing back into bed felt just has domestically peaceful as walking around the empty house had felt, this time the room was filled with the quiet sounds of Yoongi’s snores which had begun to falter as Holly jumped and rolled over him. “You are honestly a menace.” Jin whispered, taking a moment to pick Holly up and slip him under the covers as if to restrain him before he himself curled around Yoongi once more.

He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Yoongi’s shampoo – some type of coconut scent – as Yoongi crept closer to his chest. Jin would never actually mention it to him as anything other than a joke, but he smiled at the small speck of drool slipping from the corner of his mouth, no doubt that it would soon be on him just like predicted.

He pressed one final kiss to Yoongi’s forehead before he let his body fall into his growing sleepiness, whispering a tender goodnight into messy hair and then embracing just one more act of domesticity, pulling Yoongi tighter against him, which kept him warmer than any blanket could.

#bts snz #bts fanfic #bts sickfic #chef yoongi #chef jin #established relationship #day after christmas #sick yoongi #common cold #snowfall #this took way too long

17 notes · View notes