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#chaptered fic
gaygodlou · 1 month
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Canny With The Flow
By: thinlines @thinlinez
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Harry Styles/ Louis Tomlinson
Status: Completed 9k
Dedicated to Tricia and Riri
“Why don’t you ask for his number? Stop wasting our time. I could be home by now.” Niall complained.
“I can’t!” Harry screeched. He knew he was being dramatic, but he couldn’t handle a straight up rejection. He certainly didn’t want to scare the alpha and ruin his chances. “It needs to be natural. Our meeting… He has to fall in love with me naturally.”
“You are so weird.” Liam was shaking his head.
“What do you mean naturally? Asking for his number isn’t natural enough? Jeez!” Niall's grumble was already lost in Harry's ears.
OR Omega Harry brews a plan to bag his crush and executes it. Period.
This fic is a gift and also a part of an ongoing collection
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alwaysjustmina · 1 month
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Whispers of Rain
Chapter 14: And I don't want to get in your way
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My thanks as always go out to the following:
@kamonart the artwork for this story (check them out on IG
@papaslittlesunshine for her amazing editing skills, any mistake are always clearly mine. Check her out on Tumblr or her stories on ao3! If you need recs, let me know!!
Lastly @midnight-moth on Tumblr and IG, for always listening to my depraved raindrop thoughts and trying to guide me back to sanity. Check all their work out on AO3, if you haven't read Kilonova, what are you even doing?
Read below or here
With his eyes squeezed tightly shut, Dew knew this couldn’t be real. He tried to slow his breathing to keep pace with the ticking of the clock he could hear, willing his heartbeat to decelerate. If he didn’t open his eyes, he could stay in this vague awareness, between the dark and light. Between knowing if Rain was alive or dead. He could feel the tears slip past his clenched eyes. When he thought of Rain, he felt the panic starting to rise in his chest. He needed to just open his eyes, deal with whatever had happened. He continued to will himself to just give him one more moment, one more second in this ignorant bliss.
He felt a body next to him, a hand reaching out to take his own that was clenched in the sheets. Warmth slowly registered that the hand next to him wasn’t the cold realization that death offered. The puff of air that breathed along his neck, had his eyes snapping open.
The sight before him made him gasp, the other eyes meeting his, disrupted out of half sleep. The smile that quirked the corners of his mouth up before noticing the tears falling from Dew’s eyes, his sobs not able to be quieted any longer.
“Dew?” Rain asked softly.
He raised his one hand not holding onto Dew’s hand to brush the tears falling down from his cheeks. Dew leaned into his touch, pushing his face into the palm of his hand. He couldn’t answer him, his voice lost to the pain of the dream.
Rain seemed to understand something had happened, he didn’t push, just gripped Dew’s hand tighter, his smaller grip encompassed in Rain’s larger. He wanted to pull him closer, to encircle him in his embrace, but he knew that Dew had to reach, Dew had to be the one to reach out for him. He would wait. He would wait forever if necessary.
Rain’s hand grounded Dew in the quiet light of the morning. They didn’t speak, they watched the other, eyes caressing where hands hadn’t in so long as the dawn broke the sky, streaming sun across the bed, landing across Rain’s face, Dew’s dull locks shining in the morning sun.
As Dew calmed down further he found himself pressing himself into the quiet solace that Rain offered, molding their bodies together once again. Dew’s head under Rain’s chin, arm around the waist, legs entwined in a resemblance of gnarled tree branches that have forged together over years, if not centuries, unable to bear being separated.
Rain’s hand found Dew’s hair, brushing it back from Dew’s face gently, running his fingers through it. He missed this quiet between them, these moments that they had fought so hard for over the last year.
“Please don’t leave me,” Dew mumbled so quietly that Rain had to question if he heard him correctly.
“Never, I will always be here for you, my Otter. I will always find a way to be near to you, I will always come for you.”
Dew pulled back from their tight embrace to look into Rain’s eyes, maybe to check the validity of his words, not believing himself worth it. Rain watched the heart wrenching thoughts pass over Dew’s eyes, making sure to offer him a smile and to pour all the love he had for him to show in his eyes, in his face, in his caress. He watched the tears continue to fall silently down his face.
“Please don’t cry over thinking I will ever leave you Dew, that is the last thing you need to worry about.”
Dew’s face softened at Rain’s admission, finally believing a small fraction of what he was saying. He knew they needed to talk about everything that happened, he needed to tell Rain his fear. He knew these things, but he just wanted to exist in this moment, they had time.
Rain whispered over and over again how much he loved him as he held Dew in his tight embrace. Dew found himself nuzzling into Rain’s neck, inhaling his scent, placing small kisses along his pulse, without realizing what he was doing. When the two of them were alone together their bodies automatically sought the other out. It was natural, destined. Rain placed kisses along Dew’s cheek and forehead.
They moved to look at each other again, and Dew found himself making the first move. He pushed forward slowly, his eyelids lowered, watching the plush lips before him. He knew when Rain realized what he was he was doing by the sharp puff of air he emitted from his mouth.
“You sure?” Rain asked before their lips met.
Dew didn’t answer, he pressed his mouth to Rain’s. A chaste kiss, pressed together in a silent moment. He felt Rain’s lips twitch into a smile as they were pressed together. He could feel Rain’s hand that was holding his grip the slightest bit harder. The other arm that were wrapped around each other, he felt both of their flesh rise in goosebumps, electricity flowing between their limbs to the other.
It wasn’t a heated kiss by far, both knowing that they wouldn’t take it further. It felt like the first time they touched, the first glance, the first admission of love. It felt like hope, that maybe everything would be ok. Dew wanted to forget everything that happened and just exist the rest of eternity in Rain’s embrace, with the knowledge that they loved each other.
When they finally pulled apart, they exchanged a sigh of contentment and smiled at the other.
“I love you too, my Selkie, always.” Dew breathed out.
They held each other the rest of the morning, until they heard the others start to move in the house. The sound of life, breaking them from this moment of contentment. Knowing they needed to face the day and start to plan for Ifrit’s demise and the eventual thought of going home and starting to heal.
They slowly let go of the other, arms unraveling, bodies moving apart, fingertips the last to touch as they made their way from the bed. Their eyes never left the other as they moved around the room trying to piece together clothes for the day. They only stopped staring when the other stepped into the bathroom to clean up. The one not in the shower waiting outside, standing by the door, the thought of being apart unbearable. When they came back together their hands found the others again. Their fingers entwined, speaking the thoughts that they both couldn’t say out loud yet.
**************************************************
“Rain, that is a dumb idea,” Eidolon shouted from beside Aether.
Rain sighed deeply in exasperation, would Eidolon ever give him a break? Would he ever stop fighting him? He was absolutely grateful to him for being with Dew and getting him through Ifrit’s torture, offering his friendship (he was not going to think about that kiss that he witnessed between the two of them, he was not), but he secretly wished he could punch him sometimes.
Calm, Rain, calm, he thought to himself not for the first time this morning. Rain had Dew’s hand in his beneath the table, his thumb caressing the others mindlessly. He was trying to ignore the fact that after their quiet morning, he found Dew and Eidolon huddled in a corner in the kitchen whispering quietly to one another, Eidolon’s hand on Dew’s arm. Rain wondered if Dew had shared what had made him cry this morning with Eidolon, and he tried his hardest to cut off those thoughts, he had his time with Dew this morning. Dew would share everything with Rain when he could, he knew he would, but fuck if it didn’t kill something inside of him when he found the two of them together again. As soon as Dew saw Rain enter the kitchen he disentangled himself from Eidolon with a quiet, “I will be fine, thank you,” and a squeeze to his hand before walking over and greeting Rain.
“And what is your idea?” He asked back, as neutrally as possible. He would make an effort for Dew. Eidolon was his friend.
“I wouldn’t ask him to meet me somewhere, that’s for sure, the only way you will be able to get him is to do it by surprise. Otherwise he will be prepared and will do every dirty thing in the book to end you. How can you be that stupid?” Eidolon seethed.
“Eidolon!” Dew and Aether’s voices raised in surprise at the same time, shock evident on both of their faces.
Calm, Rain, calm.
Eidolon didn’t stop though, “Why would you put Dew in this position, of Ifrit destroying you, killing you? Why don’t you care what you do to him?”
“What the fuck is your problem?”
Well that wasn’t calm, was it?
“You are a fucking idiot, that is my problem. You are going to get not just yourself killed, but all of us when your oh so brilliant plan fails, including the one you supposedly love.”
Rain could feel himself gritting his teeth inside his mouth, grinding them together as he tried to remain calm and not fly across this table in the rage he felt inside his entire being. How fucking dare he? Who the hell did he think he was to question his love for Dew? Calm.
“What, you think you can come up with something better?”
“Absolutely, at least my plan wouldn’t get Dew killed. At least it seems like I may be the only one of us concerned with that between you and me.”
Rain quickly rose from his chair, “WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?” He gripped the wooden frame so hard he knew he was leaving claw marks on the wood.
Eidolon rose from his chair, as well, “You know damn well what that is supposed to mean!”
Aether and Dew looked at each other across the table, not knowing how to diffuse the situation.
“Maybe we should take a breath?”
“Hey, let’s all calm down.”
Aether and Dew spoke at the same time, addressing the person by their side. Neither were listening though.
They tried.
Failed.
“You think you can take care of him better than I can? Is that what this is, Eidolon?”
Eidolon scoffed, “What surprises me, Rain, is that you don’t think the same thing.”
“Oh, cause you did so well protecting him while you were both with Ifrit?”
“Where the hell were you Rain? It was months he was there. All I heard is he stabbed you once or twice, I would have dragged myself from my deathbed to Dew’s side, but no, poor little Rain had to rehabilitate.”
It hit a little too close to home, Eidolon’s words. He knew he failed Dew, he should have been here sooner. The defeat of what Eidolon said, evident on his face clearly.
“Even you think this, Rain, just look at yourself, you know you aren’t anyone’s savior. You play the biggest victim here out of everyone.”
Rain’s mouth hung open as Eidolon continued.
“If Dew finds comfort in my embrace, why would you stop him from seeking it out? You say it is all about Dewdrop, but you continue to make it about you, begging him to not seek me out at night to calm his fears.”
Eidolon continued, “You know your the reason he is here, Ifrit had some kind of vendetta against you, your the reason it got so bad. He wouldn’t have tortured Dewdrop if it wasn’t for you. I heard the things he said to Dew when he was-”
“Eidolon, stop!” Dew shouted, but it wasn’t enough.
Eidolon continued, not missing a breath, “hurting him, hurting him in ways you can’t even fathom. He always made sure to bring you up. Tell me, was it about Dew, or did bring this on him?”
The room suddenly was too quiet, all the air drawn out of the space they were in. Rain couldn’t hear anything, the sound of the wildlife outside had ceased playing on the waters edge, the light had slipped behind the clouds, the ticking of the clock stopped.
He had told him. Dew had told Eidolon. He told him what he had asked him for the other night. He told him.
Maybe Eidolon was right, maybe it was all him? Did he cause this for Dew? How much had things changed since they were together? He never thought Dew would share a private conversation with anyone else. The devastating realization of the bond he now understood Dew had with Eidolon, shattered the hope he felt grow in his chest this morning. He couldn’t look at Dew, he couldn’t look at any of them. He found himself pulling away from the table, removing his hands from the chair, slipping his hand out from under Dew’s that had been placed on top of his.
“Maybe you are right, I will rethink my plans and share it with the group when I make my decision.” He slipped out of the silent room, passing through the house and out the front door, he needed to take a walk. He needed out of there before he broke down in front of them all and it gave Eidolon more fuel to torment him with. He didn’t hear as Dew called out to him, lost in his own thoughts and misery. The words Eidolon had shouted repeating in his head over and over.
Dew stared at Eidolon across the table, he watched his friend's body heaving in anger as he spewed the words Dew had confided in him in private. He knew why Eidolon was doing this, this was his fault. He hadn’t made his feelings clear. Fuck if he even knew exactly what he felt. Rain didn’t deserve his vitriol though, Dew did.
When he heard the door shut behind Rain, he spoke up, “Why would you say that to him?”
“Cause it is the truth.”
“Phan-I mean, Eidolon, you don’t know what it was like at the abbey the last few months either, that wasn’t fair to say to Rain.” Aether said quietly from his side.
“I don’t care, he is an idiot.”
“Eidolon, stop, he isn’t an idiot.” Dew’s voice raising in agitation.
“Yes, he is. You deserve better.”
“STOP. I will not listen to this again.”
“Dew, you know I am-”
“Eidolon, seriously, I am not listening to this anymore right now. I need you to stop.” Dew walked away from the table.
He wandered through the house, finally sitting in the glassed in sunroom, his thoughts consuming him. He waited for Rain for hours to return, but eventually the light outside dimmed and he found himself falling asleep in the chair, once again wishing he had never fallen for Ifrit all those years ago. It would have solved so many things.
Rain returned many hours after leaving the house to the quiet house, Aether sitting at the table in the kitchen by himself. He found himself asking where the others were, Aether said Eidolon was in his room and Dew was in the sunroom waiting for Rain to return.
He wiped his hand over his face in exhaustion before sitting across from Aether. Weren’t they just here a few days ago, was that a week or two ago? He couldn’t remember anymore. He saw Aether itching to say something to him about the earlier conversation, but before he could speak he told him he had a plan.
“I want to leave as soon as possible, Eidolon was right that we need to do this as quickly and quietly as possible.”
“We should get both of them and tell them the plan.” Aether knew Rain was getting ready to do something stupid even as he said this, like not to tell the other two they were going.
“No, I think it is better we go now, I just need to get some things, give me a half an hour.”
“Rain, this is a mistake, you need to talk to Dew.”
“I don’t want to hear it Aether, I just want to get this done so we can get hi-I mean them, back to the abbey and safe.”
He rose from the table to take care of the last few things before they left.
Aether found himself outside of Eidolon’s room, pushing his door open silently. He laid on his bed fast asleep. In sleep, it was easy for Aether to forget all the years between the last time he saw him. Phantom was curled on his side, clutching the other pillow on the bed between his arms, his hair sticking in all directions. He wished he could wake him, but he sat there watching him for as long as he could before they left. He wanted to tell him, he knew how hard it was. He knew that Eidolon was in love with Dew, he knew what he faced with that feeling. He wanted to tell him Rain was a good person, that he loved Dew with his entire being, not to fault their feelings for the other. Not to lose sight of his friendship with Dew. He didn’t have to give up his love of Dew because he loved Rain, Dew had enough love for him too. He didn’t need to fight with Rain over who loved Dew more.
He wanted to run his hand through Eidolon’s wild hair and remind him of their youth together, of the happiness they shared in their family home. The two of them running wild through the fields, practicing their powers, watching the starlight they created together. How sorry he was that Ifrit used Eidolon to get to Aether. He wished he could send Eidolon home to their family, but there was no one there any longer, it was just the two of them.
He knew that time was drawing near, he rose from the edge of the bed, bending down to kiss Phantom’s forehead and whisper from the door to the sleeping form, that he would be back soon and that he loved him, his baby brother.
They had time, he would make sure he knew how much love he had for him, how much love their family had had for them.
Rain and Aether slipped from the house silently, starting the car and driving into the dark night by themselves away from the two people that they loved the most in the world.
When Dew woke later that night from the sound sleep he had on the chair he stumbled from the room to see if Rain had returned. The kitchen was empty, the house locked. He went to their bedroom to find it empty of the other ghoul, but he found on the bed a packet laying on the covers. There were many envelopes wrapped with twine, all addressed to him with a note on top.
My love,
I am sorry you will find this and not me here, but I need to do this. I have needed to do this from the day I first saw what Ifrit was doing to you.
I am sorry I am leaving without waking you, walking out on you in the dark of night, but I knew you would insist on coming and this was something you didn’t need to see, to face again.
I walked for hours in the woods, thinking about us, thinking about how I could make our new lives easier on you. I want you to be happy, safe, beyond anything else. I am so sorry if I made you ever feel anything less. You are my entire world, my other half, the one I love. I won’t give up on our love, but if you can’t find happiness with me again, I will let you go. I only want your happiness, that is the only thing that matters to me.
I thought about you every day we were apart, my only thought was to get back to you. Eidolon was right, it took too long, I failed you once again. I should have been faster. I will take care of Ifrit though so you can live in peace knowing he will never hurt you again.
I have attached my letters I wrote to you while we were apart. I hope they prove to you, that you were all I thought about, that maybe I am deserving of your love somehow.
I brought them in hopes we could open them together, but I think this may be better. You can read them if you want. You can decide. I didn’t realize how much we both would have changed while apart. I guess I am the idiot Eidolon said I was.
Forever yours,
I will love you forever, Selkie, if that makes me more of an idiot, so be it.
I will return in a few days and we can go home. I promise I will get you home and take care of this monster for you.
Rain
Rain, what did you do?
Authors note: the letters Rain left with Dew look like this (thanks to @jazz-bazz )
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steddieas-shegoes · 19 days
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this place is such great motivation for anyone trying to move the fuck away from hibernation
chapter 8: i'm homesick also on ao3 all chapters masterpost rated e
🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰🧰
Eddie woke up to drool.
Which should probably be more concerning, but considering he had a teething baby, he was used to a little drool.
The part that was confusing was that his baby was asleep in her crib in the bedroom next to him.
The drool on his chest was Steve’s.
Oh, he would never live this down.
Eddie let his fingers ghost through the strands of Steve’s hair, glancing at the clock to see that it was nearly seven in the morning. They were supposed to call the realtor at eight.
Eddie needed to be on the road by lunch so that Mia would nap for most of the ride back to Hawkins.
The urge to ignore all of that was strong, but they couldn’t ignore their future. Not now that it seemed like they might have a chance.
“Stevie, it appears there’s a leak in the apartment,” Eddie said softly, not wanting to startle him.
Steve’s head shifted, his nose rubbing against the drool on Eddie’s chest followed by a groan.
“Disgusting,” Steve said. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine. You sleep okay?” Eddie tightened his arms around Steve, not wanting to lose this moment quite yet.
“Yeah. Loved this,” Steve poked his side and kissed his chest. “Could definitely get used to this.”
“Well, if we don’t get to the showing, we may not have it anytime soon.” Eddie nudged Steve off of him so he could get up. “Mia must still be asleep so I’m gonna take a quick shower before she decides to bless us with her presence.”
“No rush, baby. I got her if she wakes up.”
Eddie kissed Steve’s forehead. “Thanks, sweetheart.”
When Eddie walked into the kitchen, fully dressed and halfway packed already, Robin was sitting at the table holding Mia while Steve cut up fruit at the counter.
“My goodness, Mia, it looks like you’ve made a new best friend,” Eddie said as he kissed the top of her head.
“Dada!”
Steve dropped the knife in his hand and turned to them. Robin’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head as she looked between Mia and Eddie.
Eddie was pretty sure his heart was on the floor.
“Did she just-“ Robin started to ask, only to be interrupted by Mia kicking and yelling it again.
“Dadadadadada!” Mia squealed out.
“Yeah, I’m dada,” Eddie said, scooping her into his arms and spinning her around.
“Mama! Dada!” She exclaimed. He could feel Steve come up behind him and watched his hand go to her back, covering his own.
“Someone’s so talkative this morning,” Steve said. “You were so excited to see your dada, weren’t you?”
“Dada! Dada!”
Eddie was crying, Steve was crying, even Robin was trying to hide a tear that slipped out as Mia kept repeating her new word.
Steve kissed his cheek, then Mia’s, before going back to what he was doing.
"So what time are you going to the house?” Robin asked them.
Eddie looked away from Mia to look at the clock. “Hopefully within the next hour. We gotta try to get on the road.”
Robin nodded once. “I’m off to work. I’m glad you came to visit, Eddie. And I’m glad I got to get to know Mia. She’s probably my favorite future roommate.”
“Yeah, right. Until she cries all night from a fever,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Or until she takes up all of Steve’s attention.”
“Oh, I’ve been begging for someone to take up some of his attention. He’s very needy, ya know.” She gave Eddie a quick side hug and touched Mia’s shoulder. “You guys be safe going back and make sure you call when you get home so I don’t have to watch Steve pace a hole into the carpet.”
“I wouldn’t do that!” Steve said as he moved fruit he’d been cutting up onto the high chair tray.
“Uh huh.” Robin grabbed her small purse from the hook by the doorway out of the kitchen. “See you guys!”
“See ya!” Steve and Eddie called at the same time.
“Buh!” Mia yelled out.
“I cannot believe you finally said it,” Eddie said to Mia in awe as he set her in the high chair. “I’ve been waiting for you to finally say Dada for two months and you decide to do it here.”
Steve set a plate of toast in front of Eddie and kissed the top of his head. “I’m gonna go shower so we can head out. Eat.”
“Sir, yes, sir.” Eddie saluted. Mia let out a laugh as Steve rolled his eyes and walked out of the kitchen. “Alright, princess. We’ve gotta eat up so we can be big and strong and walk around this house that we might move into.”
“Mama?” Mia turned her head to look for Steve, then looked back at Eddie with a frown. “Mama.”
“Mama’s in the bath. He’ll be right back. You eat your bananas and grapes.”
When Steve was done, Eddie went to finish packing up the last of their things, looking around at the place he’d hoped would be their new home. He couldn’t help feeling a sense of loss still, even knowing that they were working on finding a new home for all of them. He’d wanted this to work so badly.
“You ready, baby?” Steve asked from the door, holding Mia in one arm, diaper bag slung over the other shoulder.
“Yeah. Are you?”
“Sure am.”
******
The house was perfect.
Eddie felt like crying the moment he stepped onto the front porch. Even with the broken parts, even with the chipped paint along one side of the house, even with the slightly overgrown front yard, it was perfect.
The inside was even better, already mostly done in the ways he’d always imagined a house with Mia to be. The bathroom that needed work was still better than the one he currently had in the trailer.
The backyard needed to be fenced in, but he knew they could work on that over the next year before Mia was big enough to outrun them.
He kept sharing looks with Steve, going room to room as the realtor spoke about the natural lighting in the bedrooms and double sink in the master bathroom. They hadn’t made it obvious they were together— they weren’t stupid —but it was pretty clear the realtor caught on to them being together.
“You mentioned another person moving in?” she asked when they got to the last bedroom.
“Yes, my best friend would be moving in for a bit to help with the bills,” Steve offered. “Is that a problem?”
“Not at all. Quite a few homes surrounding the city are mixed family homes just due to the cost of living. My only suggestion is to keep all utilities in your name so that if they move out, it doesn’t become a hassle of removing them from everything.” She opened the door to the final bedroom. “I assume this would probably be their room. It looks out at the backyard and the street behind you, which is still a part of this neighborhood and isn’t a very busy road.”
“Yeah, she’ll like this room.” Steve smiled. “And you mentioned the current owners are already moving out next week?”
“Yes, they’ve already bought another home in the city. As you can imagine, that’s quite a financial strain and they’re very willing to get a deal done as soon as possible, even if it means a lower offer.”
“Could we have a minute?” Steve asked. The realtor nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her. Steve turned to Eddie, who was setting Mia down on the floor to explore. “So?”
“It’s perfect, Stevie.”
Steve closed the distance between them, wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist, and kissed him softly. “It is, isn’t it?”
Eddie nodded, brushing the hair away from Steve’s face. “I can picture everything here. I see you setting up a sprinkler in the backyard and running through it with Mia. I see us having family game night at the kitchen table. I see us sitting on the porch while Mia draws on the driveway with chalk. I see it all.”
“Me too. I want all that with you. Here. Can we?”
“We should. Do you think we can make an offer today?” Eddie turned to see Mia trying to pull herself up by the window ledge. “Maybe by the time I get back to Hawkins, we’ll have an answer.”
“Yeah, Eds. I’ll go tell her.”
“We’re really doing this?” Eddie was hesitant to truly believe this was happening, especially after how quickly the weekend had turned into an unknown future. “We’re buying a house?”
“We’re buying this house.”
“Wayne’s gonna be insufferable. I’m gonna have to listen to him talk about the foundation’s integrity for the next three months.”
“It’s already been inspected. I promise, it passed.”
“It may have passed with a professional. It has not passed with Wayne.”
Steve snorted. “Well, he can come inspect anytime. He can have a copy of the key, even.”
“Don’t offer that. He has the worst timing in the world.” Eddie glanced over to Mia, who was now standing at the window, banging the ledge as she used it to hold her weight. “Mia seems to like it here.”
Steve looked over and smiled. “Yeah, she looks happy. Do you think you’d be happy here? With me?”
“I know I would be, sweetheart.”
“We’re buying this house?”
“We’re buying this house.”
“Mia, you like your new castle?” Eddie asked Mia, who looked over at them and quickly lost her balance, falling on her butt with a grunt.
“Dada! Mama!” She started to crawl back to them with a big smile.
They both sat down on the carpet and waited for her to get to them. Mia climbed into Steve’s lap, tugging his shirt until she was situated comfortably on his thigh.
“You like this place, little one?” Steve asked her, kissing the top of her forehead.
Eddie watched as Mia clapped her hands together and smiled up at Steve.
“I think that’s a yes,” he said quietly.
“I think so too,” Steve stole a quick kiss from Eddie before lifting Mia into his arms and standing up. “Let’s go buy this house.”
It seemed kind of crazy to Eddie how simple this turned out to be. He half expected them to find flaws in the house, or disagree on the cost, or the realtor deciding she didn’t want to work with queers.
But maybe he finally deserved something simple. Maybe they all did.
******
The goodbyes weren’t as difficult now, the certainty of this being temporary enough to keep the tears from falling, at least until Mia was in her carseat in the van and Eddie was backing out of the driveway of their future home.
Steve was sticking around to discuss the boring part of it all with the realtor, and hopefully, by the time Eddie and Mia made it back to Hawkins, they’d have an accepted offer and paperwork to sign.
Eddie would have to come back to sign everything once it was drafted up at the bank and with the insurance company, but he would make it work.
Mia babbled a bit in the backseat while Eddie sang along quietly to his Iron Maiden tape. She eventually got quiet, and Eddie glanced at the mirror he had facing her to see that she was asleep.
He let his mind wander to the future, to everything he and Steve would be able to do in their own place. He thought about Mia having her own room, a backyard that she could run around in, easy access to a city that she could be herself in, whatever that may be. He wondered if Robin would live with them for a while or just while they figured everything out.
He even pictured a day where they could have more kids, give Mia a brother or sister or both, and take family pictures to hang up in frames on the walls of their house.
It wasn’t easy for him to picture his life like this before; He’d never had any reason to believe he’d have the picket fence version of life that so many people seemed to have. He’d always been okay with it, at least until Mia came into his life. Even then, he figured as long as she was fed, clothed, and had a roof over her head, he’d be happy.
But now that he had a taste of this kind of life, now that he saw the house he’d get to raise Mia in, he knew this was what he’d always wanted.
“Can’t believe Steve Harrington got to me like this,” he shook his head fondly.
*******
Wayne greeted him at the door, immediately taking Mia’s carseat from his hands and going inside.
“Nice to see you, too,” Eddie grumbled, walking back to the van to grab their bags.
“Oh, hush. You know I’m happy to see ya, too,” Wayne said over his shoulder.
Eddie smiled. “Steve call?”
“He may have.” The screen door closed before he could get more information.
“Dammit,” Eddie rushed to grab the bags and get inside.
“What did he say?” Eddie dropped the bags on the floor unceremoniously, going to the kitchen to call him back.
Mia was babbling in Wayne’s arms as he joined Eddie in the kitchen.
“Dada!”
Wayne’s jaw dropped.
“Oh! She learned a new word. Said it this morning and I cried and decided to give her anything she wants for the rest of my life.” Eddie smiled at Mia. “What did Steve say?”
“Well, first of all, he said to call him when you get back.” Wayne reached out for the rice snacks on the counter to hand one to Mia. “And then he said your offer was accepted by the owners.”
Eddie felt tears welling up in his eyes. “Really? Already?”
Wayne walked over to him, tears already gathering up in his eyes, too. “Yeah, son. Looks like you’re gonna be a homeowner.”
“Holy shit.”
“Sh! Sh!” Mia couldn’t quite make the right ‘sh’ noise, but it was close enough for Wayne and Eddie’s eyes to widen.
“Looks like ya might have to start watchin’ your mouth around the princess. Seems she’s reached her mimic stage a bit early,” Wayne laughed. “Your dada’s been sayin’ bad words since he was eight. Don’t let him fool ya.”
“Alright, alright. I’m gonna call Steve back and then it’s time for Mia to have some dinner and a bath and a bedtime story.”
“Mama!” Mia turned her head around at Steve’s name, clearly searching for him.
“Mama’s not here, baby. Sorry. But I’m gonna call him and you can say hi, okay?” Eddie picked up the phone and dialed Steve’s number from memory. He took Mia in his arms and sat down at the table as he waited for Steve to answer.
“Hello?”
“Mama! Mama! Dada!” Mia started clapping the moment she heard Steve’s voice through the phone.
Steve laughed. “Hi there princess. I miss you already. Are you being good?”
“Mama. Ma. Mamamamama!”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Steve snorted. “Did Wayne tell you the good news?”
“He did.” Eddie smiled into the phone even though Steve couldn’t see it. “What do we do now?”
“The next part is kinda out of our hands. The realtor has to work with the bank to get the papers done properly and then when they’ve gotten that done, we’ll both have to sign everything.”
“When do they think that’ll be?” Eddie let Mia sit in front of him on the table, one hand holding her side so she wouldn’t fall. “I don’t know if I could get back there before next weekend.”
“Yeah, I mentioned that to them. They said it would probably take at least 14 days to have the closing paperwork done. And they also said we didn’t have to go together, so I could go sign when it’s ready and then you can go sign the first chance you get.”
“I wanna do it with you, though. It’s a big deal. Our first house.” Eddie’s eyes widened. “Holy shit, our first house. We’re buying a house.”
“Sh!” Mia copied, grinning up at her dad.
“No, Mia, not that. God, Mia’s trying to say bad words before she even says Papa or anything. Okay.” He sighed. “So I can just make sure my boss knows in about two weeks I’ll probably have to take a day off to drive there and sign.”
“He won’t fire you or anything, right?” It sounded like Steve was in his kitchen, cooking dinner for him and Robin. “If he finds out you’re moving?”
“No. I already mentioned to him it was a possibility and that I’d be grateful for any recommendation he could give me on a job search.”
“Good. Just don’t want you to be without a job.”
Mia started playing with a strand of Eddie’s hair, tugging on it lightly. He knew it would get rougher if he didn’t distract her, though. He held up the cord of the phone in front of her and showed her how it coiled.
“I won’t be.” Eddie sighed. “I miss you already.”
“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Wayne grumbled before leaving the room.
“I miss you too. You okay?” Steve sounded genuinely concerned, almost like he’d be willing to drive to Hawkins if Eddie’s answer was no.
“I’m alright. I’m actually-“ Eddie laughed. “I think this is maybe the best I’ve ever been. Other than the missing you part, but that’s just for now. Like, within the next month or two, I’ll be with you all the time. And Mia can have us both all the time.”
“Yeah,” he could hear the grin in Steve’s voice. “I can’t wait to share a home with you. Did you tell Wayne about it yet?”
“No, called you almost as soon as I got in the door. He can hear all about it later.” Mia tapped Eddie’s cheek. “Mia’s gonna love having her own kingdom to rule over.”
“I’m sure she will. I already stopped by the store to look at paint samples for her room,” Steve admitted. “I didn’t think pink fit her, but there was a nice lavender that might look nice on one wall.”
“I’ll let you handle that stuff. Maybe she can pick from a few options. Would you like that, Mia?” Eddie poked her nose and smiled when she giggled. “I bet you’d pick something so colorful it hurts our eyes.”
“Dada.” Eddie waited to see if she did anything, but she didn’t.
“Okay, I’m gonna go get some dinner into Mia’s system. You want me to call you when she goes to bed?” Eddie asked.
“How about I call you after I talk to Robin?” Steve offered.
“Sure, just not too late. Wayne’ll be going to bed soon, too.”
“Should be by nine, baby,” Steve’s voice changed to something softer. “You know I love you more than anything, right? I’m so fuckin’ happy I get to do this with you.”
“I know, sweetheart. I love you so much. This is more than I could’ve ever dreamed of for us,” Eddie said quietly, watching as Mia grabbed his hair again. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Later.”
Eddie hung up the phone and started to get Mia’s dinner ready. Wayne had already been making something for them before they got home, some chicken and green beans that could easily be cut up for Mia. He set her in the high chair and started passing some of the cooled off and cut up green beans.
“Are they yummy, Mia?” He asked as she shoved a piece into her mouth.
“Me.”
“Yummy!” Eddie nodded. “We love when Wayne makes green beans, don’t we?”
“Suckin’ up to your old man, now?” Wayne asked he walked in. He stood next to Eddie and started shredding a piece of chicken for Mia. “I already gave my blessing to move. Not sure why ya feel like bein’ so nice.”
Eddie nudged his shoulder. “Maybe I’m just appreciating you before I don’t have you helpin’ me out all the time.”
Wayne froze for a moment, just enough to make Eddie pause in his movements, too.
“Steve’s gonna make sure you have a key to the house. You’re welcome anytime,” Eddie continued. “And we could definitely use some help fixing up some things if you’re willing to.”
“Always here to help ya, son. You know movin’ away won’t get rid of me.”
Eddie bit back a complicated set of emotions, most of which would result in tears, possibly for both of them.
“We’ll visit you here, too.”
“Well…’bout that.” Wayne walked over to the high chair and put a few of the pieces of chicken down. “I been talkin’ to my buddy in Ohio. You remember Benny?”
“Uh-huh.”
“He’s been thinkin’ about movin’ to Illinois to be closer to his sister’s family. Her husband died last year and she could use the help with her kids, but he didn’t wanna move in with them. He’s lookin’ for someone to share rent with and I kinda offered to go.” Wayne rubbed the back of his head. “Be closer to ya at your new place, too. Figured I can probably get a job anywhere with my mechanic skills.”
“Wayne, that’s great. Seriously, can’t believe you’re gonna leave this place!” Eddie got more excited the more he realized this was all working out perfectly.
“Yeah, well. Don’t think this town’s got much more for me in it if you two ain’t here.”
“I’ll drink to that. We are the best parts of this place.”
*******
Two weeks flew by, but the paperwork wasn’t quite finished when they’d hoped.
“It’s normal for delays to happen,” Steve reminded Eddie over the phone when he was starting to worry that something would fall through.
“I just don’t want there to be any problems. Like, what if the bank decides they don’t wanna provide a loan to us? What if they figure out we’re romantically involved and decide they don’t wanna do business with us?”
“Baby, that’s not gonna happen at this point. It’s our house, okay? We just have to be patient.”
*******
Another week passed, and Eddie was starting to worry that the house would never be theirs.
Steve reassured him it was fine, that he’d been in contact with everyone nearly every day and everyone remained positive that this would be closed soon.
Eddie was on edge at work, on edge at home, on edge when he visited with the Hendersons.
He knew it, wanted to be able to brush it off, but couldn’t. The stress was eating away at him until he was barely sleeping.
But finally, on day 26, Steve called him at work.
“Baby.” He could hear the tears in Steve’s voice, instantly making him choke up. “It’s done. You just have to come sign everything.”
“It’s done?” Eddie turned away from the secretary at the desk for even the smallest amount of privacy. “It’s ours?”
“It is.”
Eddie turned and yelled to the entire lobby: “I’m a homeowner!”
He could hear Steve laughing on the other end, giddy with the news.
“Shit, we’re homeowners. Please tell me you know how to clean gutters,” Eddie said into the phone.
“I can figure it out,” Steve snorted. “You think you can come up tomorrow to sign everything?”
“Wayne works tomorrow so he wouldn’t be able to watch Mia,” Eddie groaned.
“Bring Mia. We can do this as a family,” Steve said.
“She might get fussy if she gets bored,” Eddie said. She’d been itching to try to walk for the last week or so, and any time anyone held her for longer than a couple minutes, she would whine and push away from them. “And I don’t think they’d be cool with her crawling around their office and getting into things.”
“We can take turns handling it. That’s why we have each other, baby. I’m here for both of you now.”
“I-“ Eddie was doing his best not to cry in the lobby of his workplace. “I know, Stevie. I can be there tomorrow. We can be there tomorrow.”
“If you can get here before lunch, maybe I can take you both over to see Maryann and Charlie. They’d love to see you again.”
“Oh, I know. They call once a week asking for updates from me because they don’t trust you to tell him if anything bad happens.” Eddie looked over his shoulder at the shop, sighing. “I gotta get back to work. Two cars just pulled in and we’re already running on one less employee this week. I’ll call you tonight to let you know when to expect us tomorrow.”
“Sounds good, love. Love you.”
“Love you.”
He hung up the phone and went back to work.
Tomorrow, he’d officially own a home with Steve.
Tomorrow, he’d get to start living a future he’d only ever dreamed of having.
Tomorrow, he’d make another step in making sure Mia had a family to love her and care for her.
Tomorrow, he’d get to leave the home he never thought he would.
Tomorrow was a fresh start and tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.
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bultaoreunheyyy · 2 months
Text
Part 1
the sickfic without a title
part 1 - word count: 5,020
“Go fishing without me, Jinnie. I’m just gonna sleep.”
As soon as Jungkook gets the words out, he yawns, then shivers slightly before leaning his head back against the headboard with a barely-contained grimace of discomfort. 
Seokjin takes in his youngest partner’s pale face, the way that he’s wrapping his arms around his midsection like he’s trying to hold himself together, and he frowns deeply.
“I have a whole month to go fishing, baby,” Seokjin replies. He sits down on the edge of the bed and reaches out to cup the side of Jungkook’s face with his hand. His cheeks are warm beneath his palm and Seokjin wonders if there’s a thermometer somewhere in the house. “I’d rather stay here with you if you’re not feeling well.” 
Without warning, there are tears trickling down Jungkook’s cheeks and Seokjin startles when he feels them hit the side of his hand. 
“Please,” Jungkook sniffles, lip trembling. “I don’t want you to stay here because of me. Please go.” 
“Don’t cry,” Seokjin hurries to soothe him. “Okay, don’t cry. Whatever you want, okay?”
Before Jungkook can say anything else, there’s a knock on the door, and then there are five others shuffling into the room, worried expressions and fussing hands reaching out as they surround Jungkook’s bed.
“Why are you crying, Kookie?” Namjoon asks, joining Seokjin on the side of the bed.
“Aw, c’mere.” Taehyung, who is followed by Jimin as he climbs onto the middle of the bed, wraps his arms around Jungkook. He kisses the top of Jungkook’s head and nuzzles into his long wavy hair, and Jungkook lets out a quiet, watery laugh.
“Get off,” Jungkook murmurs, but he leans into the touch anyway. His eyelashes are wet with tears. “What if I’m contagious?” 
Jimin hooks his chin over Taehyung’s shoulder and smiles softly at Jungkook. “We’re not worried about that, Jungkookie. We just want you to feel better.” 
“What do you need right now?” Yoongi asks from his spot near the foot of the bed. He’s frowning, expression almost angry due to concern. Jungkook almost never gets sick. “Have you taken anything for your stomach yet?” 
Hoseok, standing next to Yoongi, nods. “We can go into town and pick up anything you need, Kookie.” 
Jungkook sniffles and pulls a sleeve down over his hand so he can wipe the tears from his eyes. He rests his head against Taehyung’s shoulder, looking around the room at all of them and then sniffling again. “I want you guys to go fishing and have fun. I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll just sleep this off and tomorrow I think I’ll feel a lot better.”
“Hey!” Taehyung whispers conspiratorially. “Are you just trying to get out of fishing with us?” 
Behind him, Jimin snorts, and then breaks out into a full fit of laughter, toppling over onto his other side and causing the others to laugh along with him, until some of the tension and worry in the room seems to let up. Even Jungkook giggles, but he’s still holding his stomach and his eyebrows furrow at the movement as he’s jostled around a little.
Finally, Seokjin rolls his eyes and huffs out a breath. “I’m going to be doing all the work anyway. And none of you will even eat the fish I catch!” 
“Of course I’ll eat your fish,” Jungkook responds immediately, but none of them miss the way his face turns an almost greenish shade at the mention of eating. 
“Okay, Kook-ah,” Namjoon says, leaning forward to press a kiss to Jungkook’s forehead. “Get some rest. We’ll check on you when we get back, okay?”
Jungkook swallows thickly and nods, then slides down in the bed until he’s flat on his back. They each take a moment to say goodbye to him, kissing him on the forehead and fixing the comforter around him gently, and then they’re leaving, looking no less worried than when they had entered the room.
Three hours later, when the six of them return with seven small fish between them, they find Jungkook in the bathroom hunched over the toilet and throwing up so violently that the sound reverberates throughout the entire lakehouse, alarmingly loud. 
“Fuck,” Yoongi hisses, dropping to his knees next to Jungkook and quickly combing his hair back from his face for him, gathering it up into a messy bun that he ties up with one of his bracelets. 
Beside him, Seokjin rubs between Jungkook’s shoulder blades. “Oh, Jungkookie,” he murmurs. Jungkook’s shirt is drenched in sweat and Seokjin turns to look over his shoulder, catching Jimin’s eye.
“I’ll go grab a change of clothes,” Jimin nods, already anticipating what he’s about to ask, and he hurries out of the bathroom and down the hall.
“I’m gonna go grab him some water. Be right back,” Hoseok says, leaving after Jimin does.
Namjoon squeezes himself in on Jungkook’s other side, in between the tub and toilet, one hand rubbing up and down Jungkook’s arm while he uses his other to pull his phone out of his pocket. Seokjin doesn’t even have to see his phone screen to know he’s searching on Naver, probably for advice on what to do next. 
“Do we have a thermometer here?” Namjoon asks a moment later. “We should check his temperature.”
Taehyung, who’s hovering in the doorway biting down on his lip hard, wrings his hands together. “I’ll go look for one,” he tells Namjoon, and then he heads toward the main bathroom where they keep the medicine and other first aid supplies. 
“He’s burning up,” Seokjin notes, his palm still pressed firmly to Jungkook’s back. Jungkook groans loudly and then whimpers before the next round of vomiting hits. Beads of sweat drip down the sides of his face, his neck, and after a couple more long minutes of awful, forceful retching, he sags forward against the toilet, shaking hard and gasping for air.
“You’re okay, baby,” Yoongi whispers, tugging him away from the toilet by the shoulders. “We’ve got you.”
Jungkook starts to sob, then, the sound of his crying pained and raspy. Heat is coming off of him like a furnace and he’s listless in Yoongi’s arms, barely able to hold himself upright. Yoongi holds him to his chest, cupping the back of Jungkook’s head to keep him there, and he looks over to share a worried glance with Seokjin while Jungkook cries into his shirt.
“How long has this been going on, hm?” Yoongi murmurs, tucking his face into Jungkook’s sweaty hair. “Is this the first time you’ve thrown up since we left?”
With a sudden shiver that hits him so hard they can hear his teeth clatter together, Jungkook whimpers and then nods against Yoongi’s chest. His tears and snot are already soaking a spot against the fabric. The three of them move closer towards Jungkook instinctively; Namjoon reaches out to cup Jungkook’s clenched jaw, rubbing gently until he relaxes a little, while Seokjin keeps rubbing his back and Yoong wraps his arms even tighter around the shivering man.  
“Here,” Hoseok announces from the doorway. “Got some water.” 
He kneels down and waits for Jungkook to lift his head away from Yoongi’s chest. He tips the bottle of water towards Jungkook’s lips, helping him drink, but halfway through Jungkook shivers again and water dribbles down his chin.
“Sorry,” Jungkook hisses, jaw clenched again as a fresh wave of tears roll down his cheeks. “Fuck, I’m so cold.”
“Shh, it’s okay,” Hoseok replies quickly. “I’ll go grab a blanket for you, okay? Then we can try some more water in a few minutes.”
Jimin appears in the doorway then with a fresh change of clothes. He hands them off to Hoseok and wordlessly goes to grab said blanket, and Hoseok and Yoongi help Jungkook strip out of his sweat-soaked shirt so he can change into the dry one. Jungkook shivers the whole time, quiet as he lets himself be manhandled into the new shirt. His skin is hot despite his claims of feeling cold.
“You’re just running a little fever,” Yoongi says when Jungkook is tucked back against his chest. “Once Minnie comes back with a blanket and you sip some more water, we’ll take your temperature and get you some medicine. Okay?” 
Jungkook doesn’t react to that. He just lies there against Yoongi, sniffling every minute or so, tears silently falling. 
“This came on kind of fast, didn’t it?” Namjoon asks, voice almost a whisper. He’s on his phone again, eyebrows creased together with worry.
Hoseok, Yoongi and Seokjin don’t respond, but they’re all thinking the same thing– none of them have ever seen Jungkook this sick before, and so regardless of the timing, it came on much too fast for any of their liking. Their worry hangs in the air, tense and almost stifling, and they’re all silent until Jimin returns with a blanket.
“Here, Kookie,” he says, joining the five of them on the bathroom floor before tucking the blanket around Jungkook’s trembling shoulders. His mouth falls open in shock when his hand brushes the back of Jungkook’s neck.
“Uh.” Jimin swallows. “Should we…is the blanket too much?” He’s pressing his palm to Jungkook’s neck, then the side of his face, alarmed at the heat he finds. “Shouldn’t we try to cool him down?” He moves his hand to Jungkook’s forehead, then flips it around and feels it with the back of his hand too, like it might make a difference. “He’s really hot.”
Jungkook makes a choking sound, something between a sob and a cough, and Yoongi nearly shoves him in the direction of the toilet in a panic, his body twisting awkwardly so he can prop Jungkook up above the bowl.  
Instead of throwing up, though, Jungkook just cries, tears pouring from his red-rimmed eyes.
“I’m not–” Jungkook breaks off with another sob. “I’m just…I’m sorry…you can take the blanket.”
They can barely make out what he’s saying through his cries. Yoongi keeps him in place by the toilet, and Hoseok and Seokjin rub his back, whispering encouraging words as they wait for him to start vomiting again. 
After a few moments where Jungkook just cries, and shivers, but doesn’t do much else, Jimin gasps in realization. 
“Oh shit. I’m sorry, Kookie. I’m sorry, you’re not too hot! You can keep the blanket, okay? Just, calm down, okay?”
Jimin motions for Yoongi to release Jungkook, and he gathers the younger man in his arms, tugging the blanket snugly around his frame. 
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers against Jungkook’s ear. “I didn’t mean to worry you, sweetie. You’re not too hot, okay? Just a little bit sick, that’s all. Please stop crying, okay? You can keep the blanket. Is it making you feel better?”
He rubs Jungkook’s back vigorously through the blanket, shoulders sagging in relief when Jungkook nods his head at the question. 
“Sorry,” Jungkook rasps. “I can’t stop crying.” 
“Cry all you need to,” Jimin tells him. “And you don’t have anything to apologize for.” 
“Hey.” Taehyung appears in the doorway, triumphantly holding up a thermometer. “Finally found it.” He looks at everyone and tilts his head to one side. “Why are we all on the floor still?”
Jungkook shivers violently and then groans, but he lifts his head to squint up at Taehyung. “I’m on the floor ‘cause I’m sick. I don’t know about the rest of them.”
Hoseok snorts into a laugh, causing everyone else to chuckle along, but they all stop suddenly when Jungkook groans again. 
“Fuck,” he says weakly. “Fuck.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Seokjin murmurs. “Do you need to throw up again? Do you want to try some water?”  
The only response he gets from Jungkook is a soft whine and a bout of shivers that shake him and Jimin both.
“Hey, there’s no room for me,” Taehyung says, but squeezes himself next to Jimin and Jungkook anyway, careful not to jostle them as he does. He slips the thermometer into Jungkook’s mouth and maneuvers it under his tongue, and Jungkook gags immediately, eyes flying open wide.
“Shit, sorry–” Taehyung flinches backward, and Yoongi lunges forward to help guide him back over the toilet. 
Jungkook grabs onto Jimin’s shirt with both fists and uses what little strength he has left to brace himself against the movement, not letting Yoongi move him. 
“No! I’m…” He pauses, takes a breath through his nose. Jimin closes his eyes and waits for the worst.
“I’m not gonna…”
Even though Jungkook is saying he’s not about to throw up, he’s so pale his face matches his white t-shirt, and he’s sweating again, drops of moisture running down his forehead from his hairline. He presses his lips together tightly, nostrils flaring wide as he sucks in another breath through his nose only. A second passes by, and then another, and then he lets out a trembling, shivery sigh.
“I’m good, I just…wasn’t expecting it to be a mouth thermometer,” he finally gets out, voice weak and shaky. His gaze flits over to Taehyung. “Thought it would go on my forehead or something,” he says.
Taehyung nods frantically. “I should have warned you first. I’m really sorry, Jungkookie.”  
Yoongi reaches over to push back a few stray sweaty strands of hair off of Jungkook’s forehead. “You ready now? It shouldn’t take too long to get a reading.” 
Jungkook nods, and Taehyung eases the thermometer past his lips again, slow and careful with his movements. Jungkook still gags again once it’s under his tongue, but he manages to keep it together, his eyes squeezed shut while they all wait for the thermometer to beep.
“I’m so sorry, love,” Taehyung whispers. “It should just take a second.”
“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” Hoseok tells him, rubbing his arm. 
Fresh tears spill out of the corners of Jungkook’s eyes, down his cheeks, and his lips tremble around the thermometer. When it beeps, Taehyung slides it out quickly and peers down at the number with a frown. 
“I can’t stop crying,” Jungkook whispers. “And I can’t stop shivering.”
“That’s okay, baby,” Seokjin replies. He strokes Jungkook’s cheek with the back of his hand. “You cry all you need to, okay? None of us mind. We’re sorry you’re feeling so bad.”
While Taehyung shows Namjoon the number and Namjoon uses his phone to convert the number to Celsius, Jungkook’s sniffles grow more persistent. Yoongi unrolls some toilet paper and uses a wad of it to dry the tears from Jungkook’s cheeks, then wipes gently under his nose. Jungkook is still again, leaning heavily against Jimin’s chest while Taehyung fixes the blanket around him and Hoseok rubs his back. 
“It’s not actually very high,” Namjoon tells them once he figures out the conversion. “37.7 degrees.” 
“Feels higher,” Jungkook replies miserably. “Hate this.” 
Before any of them can respond, Jungkook stiffens, then scrambles to sit upright, and he frees one arm from the blanket so he can clamp a hand over his mouth. Yoongi, still on high alert from before, peels the blanket the rest of the way off and tosses it to Hoseok, then wraps an arm around Jungkook’s waist, shuffling on his knees as he guides him back next to the toilet. 
Jungkook’s entire body is so tense that they can see the muscles on his neck staining, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries not to take in too deep of a breath. His eyes are wide and panicked, and his stomach makes a loud gurgling noise.
“Let’s give him some space,” Seokjin whispers, tugging Taehyung and Jimin off the floor and leading them out into the hallway. 
Hoseok follows too, and he leans against the doorframe with the still-full bottle of water in his hand, watching anxiously as Jungkook finally has to give in to his body’s demands and begins to hurl into the toilet bowl. 
When he’s done, Jimin grabs a washcloth and wets it with warm water, handing it down to Namjoon, who’s still on the floor with Jungkook. Namjoon wipes Jungkook’s chin with the cloth while Yoongi pulls more toilet paper off the roll to dry Jungkook’s tears and wipe his nose.
A shudder runs down Jungkook’s spine and he snuffles miserably into the wad of tissues that Yoongi holds to his face. 
“Fuck,” he croaks. “Hate this.” The last word breaks off into a sob that sounds so sad it brings tears to Yoongi’s eyes.
“Baby, I know,” he coos, wiping his eyes discreetly and rubbing Jungkook’s back. “This sucks. I’m so sorry.”
Jungkook shivers and wraps one arm around his stomach with a wince.
Before anyone can really say or do anything else, Jungkook gags loudly, and then grabs onto the toilet seat with both hands to brace himself. 
Namjoon can’t help the shocked expression that crosses his face. “Again?”
Jungkook doesn’t even have time to nod. 
There’s not much left for him to get up. When he’s done dry heaving, he lets him fall sideways into Namjoon’s body, his head lolling to the side. Namjoon cards his fingers through Jungkook’s sweat-drenched hair– only half of it is still tied up with Yoongi’s bracelet– and presses a kiss to his temple. 
“Let us know if you think there’s more,” he whispers.
Jungkook moans loudly at that, his voice broken and crackly. “No, fuck. I hope not,” he says. “Fuck.”
They stay there for a few more minutes while Jungkook catches his breath, Namjoon and Yoongi on the floor with him while Hoseok, Seokjin, Jimin and Taehyung wait just outside the bathroom. Eventually, Seokjin kneels back beside Jungkook and takes one of his hands, squeezing gently. 
“Do you think you can stand up? We’ll get you back into bed.”
Jungkook nods, but it takes three of them to get him off the bathroom floor and help him stand. Seokjin and Namjoon get under his arms on either side of him and they start to guide him out of the bathroom, watching with worry as his legs visibly shake and his chin drops to his chest as if he doesn’t have the strength to even hold his head up. 
Jimin goes into the bathroom as they leave and flushes the toilet, and he’s opening the cabinet under the sink to check for cleaning supplies when Jungkook stops walking and glances back, tears filling his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers hoarsely, and then he’s crying hard, body shaking with the effort. “I’m sorry, I–” 
“Don’t apologize, sweetie,” Jimin cuts him off. “You’re sick and it’s not your fault. I don’t mind cleaning up a little, okay?”
“You’d do the same for any of us,” Hoseok says, ducking down to meet Jungkook’s watery gaze. “We just want you to rest and feel better. Okay?”
Jungkook sniffles and nods, but tears are still pouring down his face when he starts walking again. They’re halfway back to Jungkook’s bed when his entire body tenses, and that’s the only warning they get before he’s vomiting again, held up on either side by Namjoon and Seokjin gripping his elbows so he doesn’t hit the ground when his knees buckle.
*
That had been the start of their month-long vacation at the lake. 
Now, three days later, there’s no doubt that this is something Jungkook can’t just sleep off. 
In fact, he hasn’t gotten much sleep at all since becoming sick– none of them have, really– but he’s so tired he can barely get out of bed. By the third day of his illness, they’ve all developed a sort of routine taking care of him, bringing him water and medicine and small amounts of food around the clock even though he can’t keep much down. They all have plenty of practice taking care of each other, and even though they can count the number of times Jungkook’s been sick since they’ve been dating on only one hand, they easily fall into roles like they’ve been assigned them.
“I brought some crackers,” Hoseok announces hesitantly, knocking on the open door and peeking into Jungkook’s room. “And some broth.”
He can tell that Jungkook is biting back a response, his two front teeth digging into his lower lip and his eyebrows drawing together just slightly in the middle.
“I know, I know,” Hoseok sighs. He makes his way over to Jungkook, setting his tray down on the nightstand before settling down on the edge of the bed. “But I also bring kisses and hugs.”
The covers are pulled all the way up to Jungkook’s chin. Hoseok pulls them down just enough to help guide Jungkook a little higher on the bed, stuffing a pillow between him and the headboard so he’s halfway propped up. Jungkook shivers at the loss of blankets even though he’s wearing a hoodie. Hoseok presses a kiss to his warm forehead, and then another kiss to his cheek.
“Sorry,” he whispers afterward, patting Jungkook’s chest. “Just a few crackers, okay?” 
He holds up a cracker. He’s found that Jungkook is much more willing to eat if he doesn’t have to feed himself, and he seems to be more willing to let Hoseok feed him out of all of them.
Jungkook swallows thickly, then closes his eyes and lets his mouth fall open with a tired sigh. When Hoseok slides the cracker between his front teeth, he dutifully bites down, taking the tiniest bite he can get away with and chewing it slowly. Hoseok can hear his breathing pick up as he eats, his breath puffing in and out of his nose while he keeps his lips pressed together, a tight thin line. 
Hoseok brushes his fingers against the little crease between Jungkook’s eyebrows once he has eaten one single cracker. It takes him several minutes to finish, and when he’s done he’s looking much paler than before.
“How about a second one?” 
Jungkook’s chin begins to tremble. He opens one eye to squint up at Hoseok.
“You’re doing so good, love,” Hoseok whispers. “So good.”
It’s enough encouragement, apparently, for Jungkook to keep going. He eats another cracker, and then a third, and then he lets Hoseok hold a mug of warm broth to his lips. 
Hoseok kisses the tip of Jungkook’s nose when he finishes the crackers and a few sips of broth.
He holds Jungkook’s hand while he takes deep breaths through his nose to quell the nausea that arises almost instantaneously after he adds a sip of water on top of it. 
And five minutes later, when Jungkook is throwing it all back up, Hoseok rubs his back and whispers apologies and holds his hair back from his face. 
*
In the late afternoon, Jimin grabs two water bottles from the fridge and makes his way into Jungkook’s bedroom.
“Hey,” he greets the younger man when Jungkook yawns and looks up at him sleepily from where he’s curled up on his side, blankets clutched tightly to his chest. 
There’s a sheen of sweat on Jungkook’s face and Jimin frowns, glancing down at the thermometer on the nightstand. He sets one of the bottles of water down and wipes the condensation from his hand on his pants, then settles in the chair that one of them had placed next to Jungkook’s bed at some point. 
“How are you feeling?” He asks, pressing his palm to Jungkook’s forehead. “Do you think you could drink some water for me?”
Jungkook’s skin is hot and his face is flushed pink. He yawns again and warily eyes the bottle of water that Jimin holds out toward him until Jimin clears his throat and motions for him to sit up a little.
Sitting up seems to take a lot of effort out of him. As soon as he sips enough water for Jimin to be satisfied, he slumps back down against the pillows, tugging the blankets up until only his nose and eyes are visible. Jimin can’t help but reach out and put his hand on Jungkook’s forehead again, and even though worry twists in his gut at the warmth he feels, he smiles when Jungkook leans into the touch with a relieved sigh.
“Can you…keep it there?” Jungkook asks, and Jimin nods, adjusting his palm to cover all of Jungkook’s forehead. He brushes his thumb over his brow in a soothing motion and smiles when less than a minute later, Jungkook appears to fall asleep, soft snores drifting through the air.
After a few minutes, Jimin feels his arm growing tired, but he doesn’t dare move his hand and risk waking Jungkook up. He clears his throat again, then looks around until he finds the second bottle of water he’d brought in the room with him. Uncapping it with one hand, he chugs the water down until the bottle is empty. Just as he’s finishing it, Jungkook startles awake, entire body jerking with a shiver.
“Ugh,” he groans, shivering again and curling up as tightly as he can. “My face is hot but everything else is cold.” 
Jimin tuts sympathetically and presses the backs of his fingers to Jungkook’s cheeks.
“Yeah, your face is pretty warm. Want a cool cloth?”
Jungkook shakes his head. “No. Too cold.”
Jimin chuckles. “Aw, sorry, Kookie. I wish there was a way I could make you feel better right now.”
“You are making me feel better,” Jungkook responds quietly. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “My lips hurt,” he croaks after a moment. “Sorry. I don’t mean to complain so much.”
Jimin frowns, already patting his pockets. “Complain all you need to. You’re allowed to when you’re feeling so sick.” He pulls a stick of lip balm from his back pocket and leans forward to apply it to Jungkook’s dry, cracked lips. Jungkook tries to rub his lips together afterward, but even that seems like a great effort for him so Jimin uses his pinky to help spread it around evenly. 
“Thank you.” Jungkook swallows, then swallows again. Calmly, albeit shakily, he pushes himself up onto one elbow. “I’m gonna throw up.” 
They make it to the bathroom just in time. All that comes up is bile and water, and Jungkook cries in between each heave, his nose runny and his eyes puffy and red. 
Namjoon comes to check on them just as Jimin is flushing the toilet and Jungkook is blowing his nose. He helps Jimin get Jungkook to his feet, and then they both tuck him into bed, settling on either side of him and running their fingers through his hair while he shivers and drifts off into a fitful state of half-consciousness.
*
“I’m awake.”
Seokjin freezes, one hand hovering above Jungkook’s face as he switches out the cloth on his forehead for a fresh, cool one. It’s the middle of the night, and moonlight spills into the room through the large window opposite the bed.
“Hey, Jungkookie. How are you feeling?”
“Don’t want that,” Jungkook grumbles in response, eyes still closed. He flinches when Seokjin adds another wet cloth to the side of his neck that’s most exposed. “Too cold.”
“I know, hun,” Seokin sighs. “But your temp is up a little and I’m worried about you overheating.” 
“I’m not gonna overheat. I’m too fucking cold.” 
Seokjin sighs. He drags a hand down his face and watches Jungkook shiver and reach up to remove the cloth from his neck, his eyes squeezed shut the entire time. “No need to bite my head off,” he murmurs softly. 
Jungkook is silent for a long moment. When he opens his eyes, Seokjin can see tears shining there. 
“I’m sorry,” he says. His shivers hard and his teeth chatter. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t want the washcloth.” 
“Apology accepted,” Seokjin replies. “I’d be grumpy too, if I were you. Also, you’re too stubborn, you know that?” 
“I’m not grumpy,” Jungkook huffs. “I’m not stubborn.” 
Seokjin bites back a smile. “Okay, well, you’re running a high temperature and that’s a fact. I’ll take a reading right now so you can see for yourself.” 
Jungkook is quiet as Seokjin takes his temperature. He’s quiet when Seokjin shows him the reading. He’s quiet when Seokjin moves the cloth back to his neck and presses a kiss to the tip of his nose afterward, but he’s shivering harder now, chills wracking his body. In the moonlight, Seokjin can see a single tear slide down his face, and when he reaches out to brush it away with his thumb Jungkook turns pleading eyes on him. 
“Please,” he whispers, voice thick with sleepiness and desperation. “I’m too cold.”
Jungkook’s teeth are suddenly chattering louder than Seokjin’s ever heard anyone’s teeth chattering before, and it’s unsettling. He relents, removing both the cloth from Jungkook’s forehead and the one from his neck, and then he fetches another blanket even though it feels like he shouldn’t be adding any more layers. He tucks it around Jungkook’s body carefully, smoothing it out to keep his hands busy, heart pounding at the way Jungkook is shaking so hard.
“Fuck.” Moments later, even though he’s still shaking violently, Jungkook is pushing the blankets off. “Fuck.” 
“Are you still cold?” Seokjin asks uncertainty, and even though Jungkook shakes his head, he’s still shivering violently.  
“My insides are burning up,” he chokes out, and another shiver wracks his body. “I’m…fuck, I don’t know. I’m cold and hot,” he whimpers. His breath catches, breaks off into a sob. “I’m so cold.” 
Seokjin grabs one of the wet cloths again and gently wipes it over Jungkook’s forehead, from his temple down his cheek, across his pulse point under his jaw. He feels helpless, at a loss for words in a way that he usually isn’t, intense worry twisting in his gut. He swallows back the sudden urge to cry and pulls his phone from his pocket.
By the time Jungkook announces he’s going to puke, Seokjin has already texted for backup, and Yoongi arrives just in time to help him haul Jungkook to the bathroom.
Afterward, when Jungkook is slumped over both of their laps on the bathroom floor, Seokjin presses another cool cloth to his forehead and Jungkook doesn’t have any energy left in him to protest. 
Part 2
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yutahoes · 11 months
Text
Polarity
Chapter Twelve
Tumblr media
Masterlist
characters: mafia boss! Yuta Nakamoto x innocent! florist! reader
summary: While running away, you seemed to be moving closer to the man you were avoiding. Are you even heading to the right direction?
chapter word count: 4.6k words
chapter genre: smut, fluff, angst
chapter warning: oral (female receiving), penetrative sex, loss of virginity, language, blood, mentions of death, making-out, lots of kissing, knife, lots of blood
a/n: Terribly sorry for the late update. I don't know what to do with the story and it has been a really down season for me. I am so sorry. Please accept my apology. 😭🙏
taglist: @sourirensoleillee @kyuprincess @nuoyipeach @anonjyxd @a-bts-world @a-place-filled-with-random @smolbeanieee @yumilovesavocado @imnotsureokay @dhaly-g @spicyryujin @doodoodove @blueeyedlove-blog1 @kosmoreads @joepomonerof @calipsou @yutadae @juungvely @hangyeomcult @cherrphoenix @itsyntt @winterwritesblog @yutazen27 @ytzvivi @brightestmark @yujaesstuff @johnbanana @fullsunncit @loverofnct @127lvr4 @scuzmunkie
“Yes!”
“Yes! Yuta." 
You screamed, fingers tightly clasping the bedsheet as your body shook in its orgasm for the third time tonight. “That’s so good.” His tongue kept on lapping you up, sucking the juices you released from your core in the dirtiest way possible. 
When he said that he won’t be letting you walk for weeks, he did mean it. 
In just two days, you saw how the wound healed as if he put something magical on it. There are even traces of blood left on the floor of his receiving area but the wound on his waist is completely gone. And who were you to decline when he asked you to come and see him in the penthouse? Your outfit was sexy, the red lace lingerie feeling uncomfortable but you still wore it for him. Imagine your disappointment when he just removed it from you. 
But that was quickly replaced with pleasure that you never thought you would feel again. You are so wet and you feel sticky with your juice and sweat combined yet Yuta was indulging you like you’re the first meal he had for days. It feels surreal. You never thought sex would be this good. But maybe it’s because it’s with Yuta. Maybe because it’s with a person you love. Will every day be like this in the future?    
His question - statement, rather - from before haunted you. This will happen a lot if you marry Yuta. The sexual encounters, all the kisses, the hugging, and the assurance that someone cares for you and loves you. It was all good things. But are you willing to sacrifice your safety for him? Are you willing to wait for his call whenever he’s away just to know if he’s alive? Are you willing to risk your life in danger just to be called a mafia boss’ wife? 
All the thoughts in your head distracted you from the actual thing you were doing. You didn’t realize Yuta had already taken off his pants if not for his question, “Do you really want to do it?” It’s scary but how will you know if you don’t try? “I love you,” Yuta whispered, leaning in so that your bodies are closer to each other. His fingers thread on your fingers as he places soft kisses on your lips. “Tell me to stop if you feel uncomfortable.” You nodded, bracing yourself for an excruciating pain that they always associate with first-time sex.  
You closed your eyes, feeling the tip of his cock enter you. Your fingers clenched too tight on his as a breathy moan escaped your lips. It isn’t as painful as you thought it would be but it’s a little uncomfortable. A feeling of something foreign entering you. “Are you alright?” He whispered and you hummed in response. This isn’t just his fingers or tongue anymore. Your virginity is really already taken by Yuta Nakamoto.  
The man you used to have erotic dreams with. The man who you fantasize about for so long. The man who makes your heart beat and drop in your chest. It probably doesn’t hurt because you trust him. Because you also want this, so bad.  
Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. “I love you,” He whispered. The man who you love saying the same words you wanted to tell him. “I love you so much,” He repeated. "Can I move?" You nodded, nuzzling your face on his neck as he kept his thrusts steady. He pushed into you slow and deep that you can feel him filling you up. 
Sophie said it will hurt but you didn't even feel any pain or discomfort. Is it normal to feel this pleasurable even if it's your first time? His lips release curses as if it's prayers, whispering your name and how amazing you feel that made you embarrassed. He kept on jerking inside you, deep each time he pushed in. Your fingers claw the bedsheet when you feel that familiar knotting in your stomach. 
The fourth time tonight. Something might be wrong with you. 
"Yuta," you called, breathing against his ear. "Yuta." You can feel your insides clenching on him as he slows down his actions, groans escaping his lips. Sweat beads appeared on his forehead and along his bare body that deemed it impossible to claw his skin. 
Your senses were overwhelmed: the contrast of his warm body and cold sweat on your fingertips, the scent of his sweat, the low moans he kept muttering, the taste of his lips as he kissed you softly, and the image of his scrunched eyebrows. When you let go of the orgasm, you only felt him deeper - if that was even possible.
"Fuck," he cursed before pulling out of you, letting the cum mess up the bedsheet. "That was so good," he whispered, breathlessly as he leaned closer to you. You answered with a hum, it is. "Did you come?" You were startled at the question. Why does he have to ask that? "Did you at least enjoy it?" 
"I did," you claimed while giggling. "I think I enjoyed it too much." 
He gave a breath of relief, “I thought I’m the only one who liked it. I’m scared I might be pushing you too much.” How can Yuta be this adorable? This is way different than his image of being a ruthless mafia boss. Who would have thought that the mafia boss is such a gentle lover? “I’ll prepare the bath so we can clean up.” 
He stood by the edge of the bed in his naked glory. The lights from outside the window illuminated his immaculate silhouette. 
He looks like a God. 
How in the world did you manage to be in the presence of a God? “Yuta, wait.” A God-like man who was staring at you with his large, sparkling, brown eyes. “About your question,” He sat on the edge of the bed, facing you. “I’m sorry if I can’t give you a proper response. I feel like everything is just so fast.” 
Yuta shook his head, smiling warmly. “I’m sorry,” He whispered that made you wide-eyed. Why is he apologizing to you? “I’m sorry for putting you under pressure with that question. I was impulsive.” He held your cheek. “You don’t have to give me an answer right away but please know that my intentions to you are clear.” He held your hand, kissing the back of your palm. “I want to be with you. I want to marry you.” He then kissed your palm. 
The warmth of his lips and the intimacy of what he was doing made your heart crazily beat inside your chest. “This isn’t just a short-term fling or sexual attraction so if I make you uncomfortable with all of this…”   
You smiled before placing a finger on his lips, “I feel fine. I’m not that fragile, you know.” Yuta grinned, kissing your finger. “And I enjoyed it.” A giggle escaped your lips, you sounded like a whore. 
“Then Y/N,” Yuta started, holding your hand and kissing your knuckles. “Can I ask you to be my girlfriend, officially?” 
Your smile was wide, heart thumping crazy hard in your chest. You feel like dying. But this is an amazing way to die. “I thought you'd never ask.” The way he hugged you, tight in his arms, felt so right. 
You didn’t know being a mafia boss’ girlfriend would make you this ecstatic. 
And it didn’t disappoint. 
Although Yuta isn’t always around - for some of his dealings abroad or talks with other mafia group leaders - he never once made you feel lonely. He would always send you gifts or even send Mark to get you flowers from the shop you work in. Whenever you meet though, he would bring you to lavish private restaurants and spoil you endlessly in posh boutiques. 
Whenever time is limited, he would just borrow you as a break and hug you in his car. His strong hands caress your back as his lips send butterfly kisses on your neck. You can feel him getting hard from the way you were seated on his lap but Yuta would never push you to anything. “I want to make love to you,” he would often say in his breathy voice. “I want you shaking under me, not give you some sloppy sex in the backseat of the car.” 
But you’re fine either way 
“Let me anticipate that moment, love. I want the waiting to be all worth it.” You grinned. You wanted to swoon at his words. 
Dating a mafia boss isn’t that bad. 
—---
“Do you have work today?” You muttered a soft no followed by the reason that Sophie is out of the country and she asked you not to open the flower shop so she can relax. It was a funny reason but you bought it. It was your chance to relax. Now, you’re just bored at home. “Good. I’ll ask Mark to pick you up.” 
“Are we going somewhere?” You transferred the phone to your other ear, entering your room to fix your things. Should you wear something comfortable today? Do you have to pack some clothes?
“No,” he answered which made you stop. “I’m at home and I’m leaving for Italy later tonight.” Oh. Another trip. Another limited time for the two of you. “I want to hug you.” You smiled. He’s totally swoon-worthy. 
It wasn't even half an hour when Mark was already knocking on your door. He’s wearing his glasses once again, a boyish charm exuding from the younger guy.  Yuta supplied that Mark doesn’t know the penthouse so you weren’t surprised when he drove you to the mansion. “Is Momo home?” You asked but he shook his head, claiming that she was at school. You didn’t know Momo goes to school. “I’ll pick her up later but I don’t think hyung will let you come.” 
“Why not?” You were disappointed, you wanted to see Momo in her school uniform. 
“Hyung is spending time with you. And it’s his rule not to bother that time with you.” Wait, there’s a rule about that? Yuta and his rules. 
“Yuta and I can pick up Momo from school.” 
Mark shook his head, “That’s dangerous.” Of course. Although you’ve seen Yuta with Momo often, the only time you saw them together publicly is at the amusement park. And it was a painful memory that no one wants to happen again. Maybe that’s why he’s cautious about them going outside. About you, being seen outside with him. 
“Mark, how long have you known Yuta?” It was a question bugging your mind. Yuta did call Mark his left-hand man and knowing the history of their relationship,  you wondered how a man as quiet as Mark would get involved in the mafia in the first place. 
There was a faint smile on his lips, “I grew up knowing him.” Really? That long? “My sister and his brother are childhood friends.” Oh. And maybe, that’s how they fell in love. 
“Then you must have known his parents?” 
He nodded. “Everyone knows his parents.” You pouted, you don’t. “His dad is a true mafia boss, scary and strict. His mom is the opposite,” The side of your lips curled up which turned into a frown when he continued, “She’s always sick. Always in and out of the hospital.” Cancer. You heard that from Mama. How his mother died in the hospital without her husband. 
“How about his brother?” 
“Hyung’s brother is like their father. It isn’t a surprise that when the elder retired, he handed the mafia group to him.” You nodded. If he’s still alive, the mafia group wouldn’t even be like this. Lexi might be right, it all changed when Yuta took over. “Did Yuta hyung say something about the future of the Nakamoto group?” Mark asked as he swerved to the left to enter the pathway where the mansion is. “He hates being the boss but he has to do it for the sake of the young lady. I’m scared their hard-earned group would just crumble once he decided to step down as a mafia boss.” 
You didn’t know that Yuta’s position is that serious. That the consequences of his actions would greatly affect the future of their group. Is this relationship with him alright? You don’t want to cause harm to the group his father worked hard for. 
Mark knocked on the huge doors that you remembered as the study room and Yuta’s voice could be heard inside, telling you to go inside. You wanted to be astounded at the cleanliness of the room and how it seemed unchanged since you last came here but were more surprised with Yuta sitting behind the table, a laptop screen in front of him. His hair was back to its natural color and he was wearing square-framed eyeglasses. A light pink sweater completed his look. You never thought that he would look so boyish like this. But it was a first seeing Yuta wearing light-colored clothes.  
The younger guy behind you excused himself to pick up the younger lady which made Yuta look up from the screen. 
His eyes never left you, smiling widely while ushering you to come closer. Once at arm's length, he reached up to hug you and pull you on his lap. “I miss you,” He kissed your lips, sucking the bottom lip before nuzzling his nose on the side of your neck. “I’m now relaxed because you’re here.” 
You glanced at all the papers he was reading and the Excel file opened on his laptop. “What are you doing?” 
“Inventory,” He claimed, removing his glasses. “Expenses here in the house. The men’s salaries.” He had to do those things? “I have to arrange all of these before I leave.” You didn’t know he had to do these. Why is a mafia boss’ work so difficult? You thought all they do is kill people but he, the boss, had to take care of his members as well. Like a company. 
No wonder Yuta hates being the boss. 
“Yuta,” You called, arms wrapping around his neck as his hands rested on your waist. “If Momo grows up, are you going to drop all of these?”
He let out an airy chuckle, “That’s a long time.” It is. But that is his only option, isn’t it? “I’m waiting for Mark.” Mark? Momo’s uncle? His left-hand man? The boyish Mark? “Once Mark finishes his training and develops the skills to be in the mafia, I’ll drop everything and let him take over.” 
“Will that be alright?” You gave him a confused look. “He isn’t a Nakamoto.” Since the mafia group is like a company, shouldn’t he be handing it to a blood relative? 
His hand rested on your lap, “Y/N,” he called. “I don’t want our children to be involved in this business.” Our children? Your eyes widened at that phrase. He’s referring to the children of the future, right? Not your children? “I don't want to put our future family in danger.” 
You gasped. Our future family. He really is talking about your future children. Is he already thinking that far out ahead to the future?
Or is it even that far? 
"You’re thinking deeply. Don’t be bothered by that.” Yuta started with a smile, hand caressing your lap. “I told you I will wait.” He wrapped you in a hug, head nuzzling on the valley of your breasts. “Let's just enjoy the two of us for now.”   
Your fingers thread on his now dark hair, smiling at how he was acting like a young kid while hugging you. “Since we’re on the topic, how many children do you want?” You didn’t know why you asked that but you felt that it was inevitable. He already had a set idea of what he wanted in the future so you’re sure that he had an ideal number of kids. 
“I don’t have any say on that, do I?” You raised an eyebrow, what does he mean by that? “You’re the one giving birth. How many kids do you want?”
A wide smile escaped your lips. He is really swoon-worthy. A husband material. “Preferably a boy and a girl.”  
He kissed your cheek, grinning wide. “I hope they both look like you.” No way, Yuta is way prettier than you are. 
During dinner, you saw how Yuta interacted with Momo in the most patient way possible. He listened to all the younger girl’s stories, reacting in a way that a friend does. He even knows the names of her classmates that startled you. Yuta isn’t so bad with kids, you thought. He’s not just a husband material, but also a father material. 
You didn’t know if it would be possible to have a baby fever just by that simple conversation. You wanted to pull his hand resting on your thigh upwards to touch you in your intimate area. You wanted him to pleasure you in bed and bear his child. 
But good things will come to an end. And you felt like being showered with cold icy water when he walked you to your apartment unit. He did say that he’s leaving for Italy but you didn’t expect that it would be too soon. 
“When are you coming back?” You asked, standing in front of him while opening the door with your keys. 
Yuta only shrugged before pulling you closer with a hug. His hold on you was tight, arms wrapped around you in a warm embrace. He breathed heavily as if taking in your scent. “I’ll call you…” You only nodded in response before he leaned in to place a chaste kiss on your lips, a needy kiss that would obviously leave you wanting for more. 
“...if I’m alive.” 
It was a statement you always hated. But it was also the statement that kept you clinging on to the tiny hope that you’ll see each other again. You didn’t know what danger awaits him in another country and you don’t want to think about it. You weren’t a religious person. When your mom died, you refused to believe in the almighty being. But there’s no one who can save Yuta from this but he, himself, and God. 
Is this how a mafia boss’ wife feels? Is this what Mama is worried about when she said that she’s not fit to be the mafia’s wife? Is that why all you can see in the church are old ladies who looked sophisticated with their diamonds and pearls? Are they a mafia boss’ wife? Praying for the safety of their husbands?
Are you really ready for this type of life? 
Since Sophie is still out of the country, you went to the next person you’re comfortable talking about your relationship with Yuta. Mama. She had experience in this area and she gave you great insight the last time you talked to her. Maybe the thoughts in your head can clear up with her help. 
The tea she prepared seemed to calm you down instantly and Lexi, who doesn’t seem to be busy that night, even came to hang out with you. Weirdly, you’re on talking terms with her now. With Aeri with Sophie abroad, you talk with Lexi a lot more than the other waitresses who you used to work with. She kept on gushing about how lucky you are and how good Yuta is to you. How you shouldn’t let that man go because someone like you wouldn’t even get a man like him in the future. It seemed like a negative statement but somehow, it was true. You are lucky to be in Yuta’s presence. 
The conversation about how great your boyfriend was in bed stopped when a certain girl appeared in the doorway. You lightly glanced at Mama who looked surprised and Lexi who rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Kyoko," Mama called, standing up to welcome the visitor. "I didn't know you were coming." 
Lexi, in her annoyed state, stood up and then took your hand. "Y/N and I are going out."   
"I want you to stay," Kyoko claimed, then continued in a low tone, "Bitch."
"Kyoko, please don't make a scene here," Mama claimed in a gentle tone. 
"A scene?" She shouted, "She's the one who ruined my party." But you didn't do anything to her at that time. It was she who dropped herself on the wet floor of the bathroom. "She's the one who ruined my relationship with Yuta." Lexi's grip on your arm was tighter and you were suddenly worried that she might do something she'll eventually regret. 
Kyoko still loves Yuta and somewhat you feel bad for her. Yet it isn't your fault that you chose Yuta and he chose you. "As if there's a relationship, to begin with," Lexi started. "You gold-digging bitch."
You both stepped back when Kyoko took out a small knife from her pocket, pointing it at the two of you. "Yuta loves me. Stop being delusional." She kept swinging the knife in your direction. "He belongs to me only."
"Kyoko," Mama called in her calm tone. You admired how she didn't seem afraid at the sight of the pocket knife. "Stop this, please. You might hurt them. You might hurt yourself."
She jerked the knife in your direction and you both almost jumped at the action. "Mama." The tears fell from her eyes. She must have been in deep pain to feel like this. "Yuta is mine. He loves me." The pocket knife dropped to the ground with a loud clang. "He promised to be with me." You suddenly felt guilty at her outburst. 
Kyoko and Yuta clearly have a history together. You don't know how long it was or how deep it got. You don't even know what exactly happened between them but if you were in Kyoko's shoes, you might feel the same way. She's just a woman in love. 
Mama sat down beside her, caressing her hair in a comforting way. "I know," You feel guiltier now. "But Yuta chose Y/N. It's his own feelings."
She smashed a glass, loud noise echoing in the small room. Her actions were fast as she managed to hurt Mama's face with a large glass shard. She's crazy. You were scared when she started pointing the glass to the older's chest. "Stop pretending that you know Yuta. He's mine. Only mine." 
Your mind was blank but you only felt your hands holding something in your hand before throwing it. A loud scream can be heard followed by a sight of blood. The glass shard fell on the floor, creating a shattering sound that got you back to your senses.
The pocket knife that was once on the ground is now piercing through Kyoko's hand. 
The girl on the floor was crying, louder than what she did earlier. You hurt her. You hurt Yuta's first love. What the hell did you do? 
----
You bite your thumb, freaking out in the hospital hallways. Lexi kept on comforting you, assuring you that it was alright and she would do the same. But it isn't even right. You hurt someone. 
Your head was clouded. Why did you do that? Why throw the pocket knife at her hand? You don't have any right to hurt someone. What if you get in trouble because of this? Her fiance was a member of a mafia group. What if he gets back at you for hurting Kyoko? Will he hurt you? Worse, will he kill you? 
You were surprised when Jaehyun turned the corner, wearing his white lab coat. When was the last time you saw him? You actually forgot that he works in this hospital. But your heart dropped in your chest seeing the man behind him. He wore a white shirt and wide-legged pants, a bright blue jacket making him shine. 
You thought he was in Italy. 
What is Yuta doing here? 
He and Jaehyun looked surprised seeing you seated outside the hospital room but they entered the room where Kyoko was without even stopping for you. "Is Yuta here for Kyoko?" Lexi asked and you shrugged. 
You didn't know he was back in the country. And you were so scared that you didn't say anything to him. But what exactly is he doing here? For Kyoko? Did she call him? 
Then maybe Yuta does still care about her. 
You wanted to get inside the room but you were so scared of what was happening. Obviously, Kyoko is pissed off. And you don't want to piss her off anymore. But the curiosity of why Yuta is here is killing you. 
It felt like hours that you were outside the hospital room. You kept on bouncing your knee, nervousness engulfed you. What if Yuta is angry at what you did? You just defied the first rule of the Nakamoto group. You'll be in great trouble. 
You heard the door open and you quickly whipped your head to the source of the sound. Yuta and Mama were both talking to each other in a hushed tone, a few feet away from you. You didn't hear their conversation but it looked so serious that when they both gazed your way, you looked down to the tiled floor. Yuta looks so serious. He might be mad. It's scaring you. 
Footsteps can be heard coming your way and your knees only shake in nervousness. "Y/N," he called but you refused to look up at him. What if he's mad at you? You only saw him kneeling in front of you, peeking at your eyes view. There was worry in his eyes, "Are you hurt?" 
He shouldn't be asking that. He shouldn't be worried about you. He should worry about Kyoko. You shook your head and he gave a relieved sigh. "I'm surprised seeing you here, I thought she also hurt you." 
"It was me who hurt her," Your voice broke, a lump wanting to escape from your throat. "I broke your number one rule. I hurt Kyoko, I hurt your first love." 
He reached out to hold your cheeks, wiping the tears you didn't know fell down. "You did what you had to do. You protected Mama from her." He pulled you in for a hug that you're now both kneeling in the hospital hallways. "I'm proud of you for what you did." You kept on shaking your head. He shouldn't. That isn't what he should say to you. It's better that he's mad at you. He shouldn't tolerate these actions from you. 
What if you get used to this and actually kill someone? 
He was holding your hand, waiting for you to calm down. Lexi shared some of the stories that you knew he already heard from Mama. When the older woman came out of the door, announcing that Kyoko wants to see Yuta, your hold on his hand got tighter. "I'll stay here until Mr. Ling comes back from Hong Kong, Jaehyun already called for him." You nodded. They should have called him first but it was Yuta who shared that he was the emergency contact of Kyoko. "I'll ask Mark to drive you and Lexi back." Once again, you nodded. It's an excuse to leave this suffocating place. And you don't want to be here when Kyoko's fiance comes. "Will you be alright?" 
You should be alright. For the third time, you nodded quietly then stood up ready to leave. You have to get out of this place quickly. 
Yuta held your hand, stopping you from moving. His chocolate eyes were warm as they stare at you. A mixture of worry and nervousness flashed in his warm gaze. “Y/N,” he called before hugging you once again. “Love,” he whispered as his hand caressed the back of your head, pushing you closer to him. 
“I love you.”
Chapter Thirteen
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khwxbeeda · 4 months
Text
The Almost Wedding: Ch. II
Prev
.
Krushna had passed the limit of “fashionably late” a long time ago, and the limits of giving a fuck an even longer time ago.
The news of Tanishka agreeing to marry Chaitanya had been making the media rounds for the last two months without any signs of becoming old news— the eldest child of a film mogul and the younger brother of a famous Indian-European actress was the match of the year for the young generation of India, and the public had been going crazy over the two of them being seen holding hands and going on dates.
Three weeks ago, Krushna had been sent an invitation for an event being held to introduce Chaitanya Kulkarni to Arjun and Tanishka’s extended family with a postscript from Arjun that said he had to come whether he wanted to or not. Krushna had replied with an affirmation of his attendance, curious to get to know the man that had managed to meet the high standards of his best friend’s older sister.
He was regretting that right now.
Why did the event have to be on the day before Christmas, and why did it have to be in the evening? The celebrations were in full swing all throughout the city, and the traffic of Pune had been horrific. He had spent half an hour being stuck in the same place on the way to the venue, simply because the traffic had refused to bloody move forward. It was the insipid icing on the unpalatable cake that was the entirety of today. He was tired and drained and had nowhere near enough energy to deal with more than three people right now, but here he was, stepping out of his car after an hour of suffering through traffic and nodding in thanks to the valet for opening the door.
He took a deep breath in and released it as his chauffeur drove away and out of sight, and lifted his chin to rake a gaze over the expansive, beautiful building.
The Ritz Carlton, Pune.
He remembered first coming here for a formal event with his sister and mother three weeks after it had been opened to the public, sitting awkwardly wearing a suit he did not feel comfortable in, listening to Rukmini and Aai talk with various business associates that had smiled at him condescendingly while asking him how his school was going. The second time he had come here, it was a few months ago with his friends from Milan to celebrate his own twenty-fourth birthday, and that had been one of the best experiences ever.
Now here he was for the third time, celebrating the betrothal of a woman he did not particularly like. Curse his curiosity— Arjun had talked about the Kulkarni siblings and their out-of-this-world beauty so often that Krushna was now very interested in meeting Chandan Kulkarni.
His phone chimed, and Krushna blinked out of his reverie, letting out another exhausted sigh. He unlocked it, and opened IM. Inadvertently, a soft snort climbed up his throat at the text.
Satan and his Gucci Gang
desi regina george
wheres the hot piece of ass 7:37 P.M.
Aharya Jadhav— Arjun’s cousin of the same age, a lawyer, a fashionista, and one of the most chaotic people Krushna knew, second only to Arjun himself. Two people began typing, one of them Arjun, but he raised his eyebrows at the other one. He had been reliably informed that Sarthaki would not be attending the event, having used her broken leg as an excuse to escape the torture. No doubt the annoying little shit was lying on her bed with a bag of chips and a pizza, having fun commenting about them having to suck up to Arjun’s family.
He began walking as his idiots continued to type, through the doors into the luxurious lobby and towards the lifts without bothering to talk to the staff members or check the Events notice board. He already knew where to go.
scared of apples
idfk man he should have been here like two hours ago 7:37 P.M.
bakwaas dictionary
are you seriously calling krush a hot piece of ass?? 7:38 P.M.
Krushna bit his lip to hide his smirk and stepped into the lift, hand rising to press the button for the eighteenth floor without even having to look at it. His thumb flew across the screen of his Samsung, firing off a reply that he knew would piss Sarthaki off.
aal izz well
i mean… arent i 7:39 P.M.
scared of apples
i mean… isnt he 7:39 P.M.
desi regina george
i mean… isnt he 7:39 P.M.
bakwaas dictionary
stfu and go back to your lame party losers 7:40 P.M.
Krushna stifled a laugh as the doors of the lift slid open on the eighteenth floor, right into the entrance for the rooftop bar. He arranged his face into a polite, charming smile and tucked his phone into the pocket of his trousers, checking his reflection in the mirror on the far wall for a second. Makeup was in place, hair was pulled back into a purposely messy half up half down style, and the piercings in his ears gleamed brightly, perfectly matched to the silver brocade of his black kurta.
Good enough.
He straightened his back and stepped out onto the balcony.
Arjun and Aharya descended on him like a flock of vultures amidst the blinding flashes of the paparazzi’s cameras, wrapping themselves around each of his arms and giving him identical sweet smiles that immediately sent alarm bells ringing through his head. He groaned under his breath as they dragged him towards the bar.
“Fuck, please tell me you two chuckleheads didn’t murder someone,” he murmured under his breath, “I do not have the energy to help you hide a body tonight.”
Arjun let out a strained chuckle.
“Nahi,” he gritted out between clenched teeth, a stiff smile stretched over his glossy lips. He looked good, with contour and highlighter accentuating his bone structure and wearing a royal blue silk kurta with matching trousers. The bi flag bead bracelet Krushna had gotten for him when he had first come out was in place as it always was, and it rattled ominously when Arjun dug his fingers almost painfully into Krushna’s biceps. “But I’m extremely fucking close to snapping Tanu Tai’s pretty little neck.”
There was a Marathi phrase for the situation that Tanishka and Arjun were in. Chhattis cha aakda. It literally meant “the number thirty-six”, and implied that three and six would always be at odds with each other due to being complete opposites. Arjun and Tanishka were not entirely different— they were both good looking, frighteningly smart and shared a number of little quirks— but they were always at each other’s throats about literally everything, and it was a 24/7 source of entertainment for their friend group.
“What did she do now?” Krushna asked, leaning back on the bar and turning to give Aharya a chaste kiss on the cheek. She looked beautiful, dressed in a pearly white saree with silver zari and matching blouse, a sterling silver choker around her slender throat and hair piled into a stylish bun with a silver and pearl hairpin. Her makeup was flawless, with glimmering silvery white eyeshadow, white highlighter and soft pink lip gloss. “And Aharya jaan, you look fabulous as always.”
“Thank you, my love. Tanu Tai is showing off her arm candy,” she replied with a roll of her eyes, accepting the glass of champagne that Arjun handed her and leaning back against the bar. “Chaitanya— that’s the husband to be— is pretty and smart, and Arjun has dealt with enough of her bragging about it.”
Arjun scoffed, extending a black glittery cocktail towards Krushna, who took it gratefully. After the day he had just gone through, drink and gossip was the perfect pick me up. He took a sip and hummed in surprised approval at the explosion of blueberry on his tongue.
“And like, I get it okay,” Arjun said, raising his own glass of some violently pink concoction to his lips, “the man is ridiculously pretty and he’s studying physics because he actually bloody likes it, the weirdo.” The last two words are said with affection, and Krushna suddenly remembered that Arjun had spent a lot of time with this mysterious to-be-fiancé of Tanishka’s since the beginning of September. “He deserves to be shown off a little. But god damn can you shut up for like three seconds?”
Aharya stifled her snicker behind her glass, and Krushna grinned.
“He’s approved by both of you?” he said with exaggerated shock, placing a hand to his chin. “This is a tremendous occasion, I simply must meet this mystery man now.”
Arjun and Aharya rolled their eyes as one, already used to his theatrics. “He’s out of Tai’s league, honestly,” Arjun muttered. “I don’t know what he saw in her that he agreed to a marriage, but we all know he’s way out of her league.”
Krushna raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk curling up the edges of his lips. Arjun saying something was out of Tanishka’s league was routine, and so was Krushna and Aharya taking turns to pour gasoline on the dumpster fire that was Arjun and Tanishka’s relationship. “Well, then,” he drawled, “someone, introduce me to this man— what did you say his name was?”
“Chaitanya,” Aharya supplied, dark brown eyes glittering with the same amusement that Krushna was sure he himself was showing. “Chaitanya Kulkarni. I think you might have met his older sister somewhere at your modelling gigs— Charita Kulkarni, that actress who’s based in France.”
He nodded, taking a sip of his cocktail. “Yeah, I worked on that campaign for UNICEF with her two years ago. Excellent woman, and very intelligent. I had no idea she had a sibling.”
“She has three,” Arjun said. “Two brothers and a sister. And all of them are bloody fit. Seriously, it’s actually frustrating. Shame the oldest is married, or I’d have hit on him.”
Krushna and Aharya burst out laughing, attracting the attention of nearby tables before they remembered where they were and toned down the noise.
“You won’t believe the number of times this dude has gone on and on about Chandan, I swear,” Aharya snickered, and Krushna laughed harder, patting her on the shoulder.
“Oh, darling,” he gasped, “I’ve literally been dealing with it every day since the day Tanishka met that fiancé of hers. The first thing he did was call me and whine about how it’s ‘such a shame that Chandan is happily married’ and how he would ‘climb him like a tree if given the chance’, never mind that the man is almost forty.”
Arjun glared at him, and the fact that there was definitely a blush creeping up his neck under all his makeup had Krushna burying his face in Aharya’s shoulder to stop himself from cackling louder.
“I do not whine,” the shorter man grumbled, looking like he was seconds away from stomping his foot. “I do not!”
Krushna could not stop laughing. He leaned against Aharya with an arm wrapped around her waist for support, both of them giggling uncontrollably, stomachs starting to ache with how hard they were trying not to laugh too loud. Arjun groaned through gritted teeth, and folded his arms across his chest and glared at them, leather shoes tapping on the floor.
“Look, do you wanna meet Chaitanya or not?” he asked impatiently.
Krushna sucked in a deep breath and nodded, forcing himself to stop laughing. He elbowed Aharya in the stomach and gave her a look that said shut up, and turned to Arjun with the most demure expression he could manage, making him snort derisively.
“Alright,” he muttered, grabbing his drink to throw the last of it back and setting the empty glass down on the bar. “Come on, Tai has dragged him along for her rounds. Find her, and we find him.”
— — —
Chaitanya stuck his free hand in his pockets and exhaled through his nose, making sure the smile on his face did not look as done-with-this-shit as he felt. Tanishka had her hand tucked into his left elbow, and was smiling charmingly at one of the many old ladies that he had been introduced to and promptly forgotten the names of.
Gods, this was too many people in too little time. He wanted to leave.
He had nothing against Tanishka and her family, of course— they were wonderful people for the most part, except for that one aunt who had asked outright if he was planning to live off of his family’s wealth since the M.Sc in Physics was obviously not of any use— but he really did not have the social capabilities to be dealing with such a large crowd. He had run out of things to say twenty minutes ago, and was simply smiling and nodding along to whatever Tanishka was talking about, not bothering to pay attention to anything.
Chandan, the traitor, was ensconced with a socialite at one of the tables at the corner, deep in conversation about something or the other. Charuta was in Delhi, having left two months ago for her work, and Charita was… nowhere to be seen. Chaitanya furrowed his brows and cast a glance all over the place.
Where’s Ritu Tai?
He scanned the entire place, but no. There was not a single hint of the eye-catching hot pink cocktail dress his sister was wearing. He frowned harder and tapped Tanishka’s arm so she would loosen her grip, and turned around, only to catch Arjun’s eye.
The boy in question grinned and waved, beckoning Chaitanya to join him. Chaitanya shrugged and tilted his head towards Tanishka, who had an iron grip on his elbow and was still talking to the lady. Arjun’s eye roll was visible even from across the pool, and Chaitanya suppressed a grin. He liked Arjun— the boy was hilarious, openly bisexual and an absolute riot. He was what Chaitanya supposed he would have been if he had not been such a bloody introvert.
A few seconds later, Arjun came to a stop right next to him just in time for a couple flashes of blinding white light to go off, reminding him of the presence of the paparazzi. The other boy was accompanied by two people— a pretty woman whose name he could not remember, and the most beautiful man Chaitanya had ever seen in his life.
His eyes were a startlingly bright grey, almost silver in the lights of the restaurant, made even brighter by the silvery smokey eye makeup and diamond sharp winged liner. He was almost a head taller than Chaitanya, with long black hair pulled back into a half up half down style that accentuated his sharp, contoured cheekbones, and full lips covered in transparent glitter gloss. The black kurta with gold brocade that he wore only served to show off his broad shoulders and thick biceps, and his ears were covered in piercings— two standard lobe piercings, a helix on the left ear, and an industrial on the right— gold to match the rest of his outfit.
Krushna Mahajan.
Chaitanya recognised him, from a couple of photos his sister had shown him from that one UNICEF camp again she had done a few years ago, and from a few posts on Instagram that he had seen on his FYP. He was a model and owned his own fashion brand based here in Pune, if Chaitanya remembered correctly.
“Good evening, Tanishka,” the man greeted with a deep, honey-smooth voice, full lips pulling into a smile that was just so on the wrong side of polite that was completely at odds with his pleasant tone, taking in Tanishka’s outfit with the classic Up and Down. “I see you’ve cleaned up nicely.”
There was a ‘for once’ implied at the end of the sentence. Chaitanya raised a brow and looked at Arjun, who winked and silently gestured with his eyes for him to keep watching. He suppressed a smile and acquiesced.
“Krushna,” Tanishka greeted with a ramrod straight back, much less polite. “I don’t remember sending you an invite.”
Chaitanya turned to her, blinking slowly in shock. That was the bluntest he had seen her speak today; she had even been polite to that one aunt Arjun had told him she had loathed since she was a child. Had she suddenly forgotten all her manners? Granted, the man had probably snuck into the party without an invite, but that was no reason to be unpleasant in full view of the guests and cameras. The old lady she had been playing nice with a few moments ago was less than three feet away, for fuck’s sake!
“Actually, Tanu Tai,” Arjun interjected, the promise of chaos written all over his too sharp, too smug smile, “I sent him an invite because you forgot to. After all, he’s practically family, isn’t he?”
Behind him, the beautiful woman smirked and raised her champagne glass to her lips, narrow-eyed gaze focused predatorily on Tanishka. Chaitanya was starting to think that this was an ambush, and that he just had the unfortunate luck of being caught in the crossfire.
Beside him, Tanishka clenched her jaw, plum-painted lips pursing dispassionately. She looked beautiful today, with a deep purple co-ord kurta and palazzo set that matched the tie Chaitanya was wearing, but that prettiness sharpened into something terrifying the moment she glared at Krushna. He decided it was best if he interfered, and hastily stuck a hand out towards Krushna with a small, polite smile.
“Good evening,” he greeted in the most amiable tone he could muster, “it’s nice to meet you. I’m Chaitanya Kulkarni. Tanishka’s boyfriend.”
Krushna’s intense silver stare fixed itself onto him, and the slow, charming grin that curled up his full, glossy lips was positively swoon-worthy. “Oh, they weren’t lying,” he murmured under his breath as he took the offered hand and shook it firmly. “You really are ridiculously beautiful. Hello, Gorgeous. I'm Krushna Mahajan.”
A red hot flush bloomed across Chaitanya’s cheeks, and he squashed down the urge to squirm, ducking his head and letting out an honest to God giggle. He was pretty sure he resembled a tomato, and silently cursed his pale complexion for flushing so easily. “Ah, um,” he stammered, an awkward smile curling up his lips, “not— not really. I’m just⁠― I’m just wearing a bit of makeup.”
Krushna chuckled, smooth and deep and unfairly attractive. “Makeup is not the only thing that makes someone beautiful,” he replied, gazing intently into Chaitanya’s eyes.
The sound of a throat being cleared broke the moment, and he realised Krushna still had a firm grip on his hand. He pulled away with another awkward laugh and turned towards Tanishka, who had her eyes narrowed at Krushna. Her fingernails dug into Chaitanya’s elbow till it was bordering on painful, and he winced, shifting a little so the pressure lessened.
“Ah, my apologies,” Krushna said, his voice very apologetic but the way he narrowed his eyes back at her very much not. “Congratulations on the betrothal, Chaitanya. Tanishka, I’m very happy for you.”
Arjun made an aborted sort of sound, hiding it by turning away, and Chaitanya blinked at him in confusion. Tanishka’s glare focused on her little brother, and the man in question raised his hands with a shrug and a badly hidden shit-eating grin. Chaitanya felt like he was missing about several hundred extremely important details, and he looked at Krushna with a raised eyebrow. The man simply shrugged back, and he felt himself unconsciously tracking the movement of the broad line of his shoulders before turning away and catching the eye of the woman in pearly white.
She winked at him. Chaitanya pursed his lips, feeling his flush return full force, and he blinked, trying to look anywhere except Krushna or the woman.
“Come, Chaitanya,” Tanishka gritted out, adjusting her clothes and tugging on his elbow, almost making him lose his footing. “We have other guests to meet. Arjun and Aharya can keep Krushna entertained.”
With that, he got dragged away before any of them could reply, throwing one last apologetic look back at the three friends.
“Tanishka,” he began, but the woman did not even bother to look at him, and continued to pull him towards whatever part of the restaurant she had her mind on. He sighed and ripped his arm from her grip as gently as he could, exceedingly aware of the cameras on the edges of the room that were eager to click away at any perceived unrest or drama, and gently grabbed her shoulders to turn her around. “Tanishka. Tanishka, wait.”
She glared at him, and he bent down to press a soft kiss to her forehead, and cheered internally when she leaned into the touch instead of pulling away like he was half afraid she would.
“What happened back there?” he murmured, and she shook her head minutely, the look on her face telling him to drop it. He ignored it. He wanted answers. “I’ve never seen you be that rude to anyone— hell, you were nice to that bitch who spilled her coffee on you the other day.”
Tanishka’s lips twisted up, features scrunching up into a poisonous look aimed over his shoulder, and he had an inkling that it was aimed at Krushna. “It’s nothing,” she said curtly. “Don’t concern yourself with it.”
Chaitanya sighed and dragged her closer for a hug, clenching his jaw when he saw a flash go off from the corner of his eyes. He turned them around so the cameras could not get a glimpse of Tanishka’s face, and leaned down to place another kiss on her forehead. “I just wanna know if there’s something I can do to help,” he said softly, running a soothing hand up and down her back.
Tanishka shook her head.
“No,” she whispered, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, Chaitanya was alarmed to see them swimming with mushed tears. He pressed her closer to himself, casting a panicked eye around for Charita. Bloody woman kept disappearing right as he needed her the most.
“Krushna and Arjun go way back,” Tanishka said after taking a second to control herself, words coming out haltingly like she was trying not to choke on her tears. “And they’ve made it their mission to ruin anything and everything for me. They hate me, and they make it known. It’s been like that since I was fifteen.”
Chaitanya stared at her, not knowing how to respond to that. Sure, Arjun had an unusual love for pushing Tanishka’s buttons, and guessing from what he saw right now Krushna was probably not her biggest fan, but that could not possibly mean they hated her. Hell, he and Charita still heckled the eldest two siblings to their limits, but that did not mean they did not love each other.
“I’m sure that—” he began, but Tanishka glared at him and shook her head.
“Let’s not talk about this,” she said, and before he could stop her, she extracted herself from his hug and walked away, the soft jingle of her paayal lost to the sounds of the party. Chaitanya stared after her for a couple seconds, unsure of how to react to this situation.
He exhaled, and ran a hand through his hair.
Maybe it was best that he focused on looking for Charita, rather than whatever sibling rivalry was going on between Tanishka and Arjun, and Krushna.
.
.
Tag list: @kanha-sakhi @musaafir-hun-yaaron @orgasming-caterpillar @natures-marvel @yehsahihai @h0bg0blin-meat @mad-who-ra @girlatreus @krisnosura (lmk if you want to be added/removed)
21 notes · View notes
zhuoyiyun · 2 months
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Are you sure Argenti doesn’t like you? March had asked.
Like me? Well, he’s my friend. So he enjoys my company.
Not like that. I mean, I think he’s sweet on you.
First she'd asked what ‘sweet on you’ meant. Then, as usual, Stelle had shrugged. I’ve never thought of it like that.
He compliments you, and he’s extra nice to you…
But he gives everyone compliments. And he’s always nice.
If Stelle shared her in pulp fiction, it would have been blindingly obvious. In fact, without March’s inkling, she’d probably have been completely left in the dark.
Rating: Teen (Subject to change)
Tags: established relationship, awkward romance, getting to know each other, love letters, first love, first crush, first dates
Summary: 'Considering that Stelle had spent less than a year being capable of cognitive thought, it was natural to conclude she knew a lot more about romance than her age-mates. This does not stop her from being dense towards Argenti's affections, however.'
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chloehl10 · 2 years
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When All Is Said And Done by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10
Read it now on Ao3!
“You must be thinking of another of your ex-husbands,” Louis snapped back, and Harry stilled, slowly turning to face him. There was something almost dangerous in Harry's look then but Louis stayed firm, not cowering away.
“Thankfully, I only have the misfortune of one ex-husband,” Harry said darkly, snatching up the plates and slamming them onto the table.
*****
Louis and Harry were married, but things fell apart, ending in divorce, broken hearts and separate lives. Years later, their paths cross once more, and time together forces old feelings to resurface. But is it too little, too late?
💔 Chapter One 💔 Chapter Two 💔 Chapter Three 💔 Chapter Four 💔 Chapter Five 💔 Chapter Six 💔 Chapter Seven 💔 Chapter Eight 💔 Chapter Nine 💔 Chapter Ten 💔 Epilogue
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millenialcatlady · 1 year
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It Speaks Volumes about You
Eddie Munson x fem!reader
A/N: Hey kids! A bitch is back and actually has some motivation to write, so we are rolling with it. This is a work of wild self indulgence on my part, so reader will likely have some specific qualities as time passes, and is afab at least, but we'll say female because bound to use a gendered pet name or two at least. Please enjoy.
Content warnings: eventual smut, self-conscious/self-deprecating behavior from Eddie (direct discussion of his scars, emotional aftermath, etc.) Consider this your 'author chose not to use warnings' warning.
Teaser/Ch. 1/Ch. 2/Ch. 3/Ch. 4/Ch.5
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“Is there anything else I can help you find?” 
“No thanks, honey. This is the only one I need.”  He added, fishing into his back pocket to hand over a very worn library card. 
“Okay, well let me get you on your way...” Your voice trailed off as you looked over the back of the card, catching sight of a familiar name pressed into the flimsy plastic surface. Eddie Munson. “Oh..” 
“Everything alright there?” 
“Yea.” You met his curious face and scoffed softly at your own hesitation. “You must be Eddie’s Uncle Wayne, right?” 
He stiffened noticeably again, like he was preparing for an impact, and your stomach dropped at the realization. “Oh, god no! Please, Mr. Munson I didn’t mean anything by it! Eddie and I went to school together, I graduated a few years ago.” 
Wayne sighed, relieved, but shifted his weight uncomfortably a few times as you continued to explain.
It was horrible, the whole situation last year, the way that rat pack of jocks got the whole town thinking that Eddie had something to do with what had happened to that poor girl. Anyone that knew anything about Eddie and the Hellfire Club knew it wasn’t true. Even now, you had your suspicions that those assholes may have actually been to blame for the injuries that Eddie and some of his friends had walked, mostly, away from the whole incident with. 
“That may be so, but it’s not the people who know him that I’m worried about. Ya' know?” Wayne finally settled, looking resigned. 
“Yea. Eddie’s a good guy, though. Always..has been.” 
"Well I'll be sure to let him know you said so, he'd probably do well to hear it from someone else." 
You smiled, warming a little at the idea that something you said might offer Eddie a little bit of comfort. And that smile returned easily when Wayne appeared again just a few days later to exchange that book for another. 
“That’s some impressive timing, I think the quickest i've ever gotten through one of those books is at least four days. And that was reading every spare second that I could manage.” 
Wayne chuckled at that. An easy sound, lighthearted like the myriad of other tendencies that you had cataloged in the small sum of interactions you’d shared with him. “He’s always been fast with it, but only when he really likes what he’s reading. Other stuff just doesn’t really stick well, but the same was true for his old man when we were kids, so I s’pose it shouldn’t come as a surprise." He leaned forward and let his elbows rest softly against the counter. "Plus you gotta consider that he still can’t do a whole lot other than the readin’.” 
“Oh god, that has to be killing him.” You started up with the usual commiseration, but stopped it short. ��You know what, since he’s going through them so quickly, let me give you a couple of extra things he might like–if, that’s okay, of course."
“Yea. I’m sure he’d really appreciate the thought. Without the books to keep him occupied, I think he might’a gone off the deep end by now.”
You nodded and took off around the corner, returning a moment later with some more books and made a short stack on top of ‘Return of the King’.
“You know what else? If you’d like to come back, we're finally getting a copy of ‘Unfinished Tales’. It’s been out for a few years, but it’ll be brand new to the collection here. I could set it aside, if you think he’d like to read it.” 
“Oh I’m sure he would, as many times as I’ve seen him come home with these..” Wayne tapped on the books between you, laughing to himself. “The one that comes before them, especially. Ed’s probably checked that one outta here a dozen times at least.”
“The Hobbit?” 
“Think so. That’s the one with the dragon curled around the front of it, right?” 
“Right.” Unbidden, you felt your smile brighten. Bilbo Baggins’ adventure had been your favorite for as long as you could remember reading. You too had checked that book, more times than you even cared to count.
“Well I can’t make it in for him tomorrow, graveyards startin' back up. Think you might be able to hold it for him until Friday?” 
“I can’t, I’m sorry. There’s already a short request list, so we can’t place any holds. It’ll be first come first serve for the next few weeks at least.” 
“Ah well, that’s alright, I’ll just make sure he knows. That way he can get on that list if he wants.”
You stamped each book and tried not to think too long about the smile Eddie flashed in your direction here and there back in school. It was always a pleasant sight, regardless of how infrequently you actually got to see it. Commuting daily to the closest state college and finishing a two year degree had removed you from the routine bustle enough to easily fall out of 'the know' when it came to Hawkins’ latest gossip. At least until everything happened last year.
Regardless though, you couldn’t forget the way his dimples seemed to go on forever, or the way that smile never failed to reach his eyes, even if you wanted to. 
Weaving your way through the isles later on, you noticed that same old copy of ‘The Hobbit’ sitting proudly among the other books from the series. What was once a supple green fabric cover, set in with delicate gold filigree on the edges had faded gently with time–with love. You couldn’t help the way your fingers wrapped tenderly around its spine, letting the weight fall into your hands. It was familiar – a little reverent even – the way you flipped each of the last dozen thin pages until you reached its back cover.
This copy had lived on this same shelf for as long as you could remember, and the faded ink on its checkout card was proof enough of that age. With a bit of closer inspection though, it was clear that two names made up the majority of the scribbled lines. The first and most prominent being yours. The scratchy letters you hated so much as a kid becoming a little bit more defined with each addition. Eventually settling into the writing style indicative of your transition into adulthood. This was the first time though, that you noticed the other child-like scrawl weaving itself into many of the lines between your own. Changing slightly over the years, and, like yours, it had become a clear marker of time’s passage. An all-too familiar name that had passed over your desk in school often, on peer-graded Grammar quizzes and book-report rough drafts that found themselves always at the mercy of your favorite red pen. 
Eddie Munson
Boldness you'd forgotten you could feel worked its way in through the motion of your fingertips, as they traced the lines of his handwriting. He shouldn't have to wait for the new book, and even more you didn't want him to. Middle Earth offered endless possibilities. Adventures full of daring risk, Hobbits, Elves, Dragons, and Dwarves had been your favorite escape for, well, forever. Something especially true when things were bad in reality. And you certainly knew enough about what had happened to know that Eddie was probably still pulling himself out of some real shit. 
The Hellfire kids and the rest of their friends were loud, rambunctious was the word the older library staff liked to use most often. They had always been good kids, though, and like all Inherently good kids they found themselves killing time in the library during the school year. By the time spring rolled around, you'd spent who-knows-how-many-hours shushing them, especially when the older members of the gang weren't there. 
Steve seemed to have a particularly calming effect on all of them. You could see why, he was charming and easy to talk to, but he was easy going around them especially. He very obviously felt responsible for them, in a big brother sort of way. It was sweet, and you'd told him so, one time when he'd asked you out a few months ago.
You'd declined politely, and he took it well. Back in school the pair of you spoke often, but you'd always felt a very platonic sort of connection with him. Eventually, he admitted that you'd made the right call, his connection to you fell quickly back into the same box where Robin Buckley had set up shop - which seemed to be the norm for her lately, unexpectedly stumbling into the lives, and hearts, of everyone around her. The pair of you laughed about it, and settled into a nice conversation. He caught you up to how everyone was getting on. Between that and younger members of the club vaguely chatting up a storm all through the spring; you'd been able to put some of the pieces together. Enough of them, at least, to understand that Eddie was lucky to be alive after the whole ordeal. Word around town was that animal attacks like he’d been through happened once in a lifetime or two, in the whole tri-state area. 
If anyone in this town deserved to read that book first, it was him.
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oharasoneandonly · 3 months
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𝘗𝘰𝘱 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘺/𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤 ❤︎
A night to remember
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breezeebiocks · 1 year
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gaygodlou · 7 months
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Subtletys
By: thinlines @thinlinez
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Harry Styles/ Louis Tomlinson
Chapters: 8/8 Completed
Dedicated to @505louis and @louis-twentyeight-tomlinson
The alpha wanted to run, to sprint from the room and throw himself into the campus traffic, but he remained frozen and barely breathing as the omega pressed the tapes down, keeping the pressure soft and gentle.
Everything about Harry was soft and gentle, even when he was furious at Louis.
“Can you—” Breathe, don’t panic. “Are you done?” He bit back a hiss when Harry’s fingers danced over the edge of his bondmark spot yet again.
OR Alpha Louis is trying to perfect the art of pretending not to care for his volleyball team manager. Let's all assume he isn't headed for failure.
🏐 Chapter 1: Don't Look My Way
🏐 Chapter 2: In Your Honor
🏐 Chapter 3: Act Like You Deserve Me
🏐 Chapter 4: But What Are We?
🏐 Chapter 5: Try As I Might
🏐 Last Chapter: We're All You Need
🏐 Bonus Chapter 1: Obviously
🏐 Bonus Chapter 2: Before Us, There Was You And I
THIS FIC IS COMPLETED
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alwaysjustmina · 26 days
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Whispers of Rain
Chapter 15: I Can Hear You Say My Name
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This is it for this arc - some of you may want to yell at me with how it ended but trust the process and that I know where I am taking this. I hope I didn’t lose anyone on this journey, this arc was one of the hardest things I have ever had to write.
I don’t know if anyone noticed that the chapter titles really tell you about the chapters you are reading, Rain by Sleep Token, really had the best words for this story.
Thank you again to:
@papaslittlesunshine for beta reading this story (if there are any mistakes in this last chapter, it is all my fault! I wanted her to read this along with all of you!)
@midnight-moth for listening to me go on and on about this story
@kamonart for the beautiful artwork
And to all of you dear readers, the comments and the kudos, truly mean the world to me. I am so excited everytime I see someone saying something about something I wrote. It always blows my mind you all like it.
What’s next? Next I am starting to write for Raindrop April, some shorter stories I need to get out and have been putting off while writing Whispers. I will pick back up the next arc in the SITO world sometime mid April, posting at the latest at the beginning of May.
Read below the cut or here on AO3
The car ride to Ifrit’s estate was quiet as both Rain and Aether were lost in their own thoughts. Aether thinking about his baby brother and wondering what he would want to do first when they got topside. He couldn’t wait to show him the world, to rebuild their bond. He was hopeful once Ifrit was taken care of, the memory loss would vanish, that maybe there was a tether there that could be broken by death.
And let’s not fool ourselves, the only way Dew would be safe, the only way they would all be safe is if Ifrit was dead. Dead and not able to reappear in some lower circle of hell. They had an incantation to make sure that didn’t happen.
Rain’s thoughts were plagued by Dew and what he was doing, did he read the letters? What did he think of them? Would they survive this together? He tried to push thoughts of Eidolon to the back of his mind, if this was his last moment he wanted to only think of Dew. He ached for him, he missed how they were. The feeling so strong in the pit of his stomach, the butterflies that still showed up when he looked at him. How his belly still did dips and turns like he was on a roller coaster, did Dew still feel that way when he looked at him? Or did he think Rain had left him to rot here?
How did they end up here? All he wanted was to be Dew’s, to be his mate, his partner, his lover, Dew was his everything. His world started when he first looked at him and Dew looked back, it ended when he saw Ifrit dragging him away and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He would wait forever for Dew, they would go at his pace. He just hoped it wasn’t too late for them.
As they got closer to their destination they went over the plan again. They were going to infiltrate the estate, with the intel they had, they knew Ifrit was onsite today and not a lot of staff would be there. The security scouring the area for Dew and Eidolon. There were only a few guards with him and the regular staff that they were assured would not hinder the two of them. They had also seen the atrocities that Ifrit had plagued upon others.
They would arrive close to lunch when Ifrit took his meal out on the veranda. He had no company coming over today, he hadn’t had much in the way of friends and since the festival his image had dropped in many fellow denizens of the pit. This was another reason he was dangerous, he had nothing to lose with his fall from his lofty heights. Everyone was vying for the top spot left vacated by his forced demotion, which only fell further every day he didn’t have Dew and Eidolon back in his grasp.
The only weapons that they were able to use were their powers, it had something to do with the incantation. Made weapons wouldn’t end him. Rain was still worried about how his water magic would kill Ifrit, but he had made sure he was ready. He could whip the water from his body, douse his flames, and drown him. Aether was only there as a backup, if Rain failed he could step in and make sure Ifrit was taken care of once and for all.
It was eerily quiet as they crept in through the abandoned tunnels under the estate, vermin scurrying away as they made their way to the door that opened up to the basement behind casks of wine. Mildew and must flooded their system with each breath they took, the dankness of the basement permeating their pores.
They crept behind the barrels, making their way up the steps and out through the pantry that opened up into a hall. They saw no one as they moved along, almost as if they were all expecting their arrival.
As they neared the veranda, they could hear the scrape of a fork on a plate, a wine glass being set down. Ifrit was there and they were ready.
But so was Ifrit, “Rainy, woah this took so much longer for you to come than I thought it would. I was beginning to think you didn’t really love our Droplet.”
He didn’t turn around, continuing to eat and drink, his every motion showing he wasn’t worried about the threat that Rain posed. When they rounded the table to stand in front of Ifrit, he finally looked up.
“Oh, Aether, you too? Really? How boring of you.” Laughing he took another sip of the red wine.
“Ifrit, this is your execution, carried out by the injured party, you will not be returning back to this plane after your death. This is your true death, final.” Aether spouted off the speech he was told he had to say. “In the event Rain dies before you, I will finish the job. We will only use our powers, do you understand the terms?”
“Oh even better, a true death duel! Does this mean Rainy can be done too? If I end him, he won’t be able to be with my Droplet.” There was no hint of nervousness in his visage, he was gleeful.
Rain and Aether both knew of this possibility but had signed up nonetheless to take care of Ifrit. With a nod to Ifrit’s question, Aether started the incantation, locking them all in until one side was done. Dead.
Ifrit pushed away from the table, ready to start and end this fight. There was no doubt in his mind that he was stronger than Rain, that he would have Dewdrop in the end. Rain was an ant that he planned to squish. He leered at Rain as they each accessed the other, finding weak spots, ready to pounce.
When Aether was done, Rain was surprised when Ifrit didn’t jump to start his attack. Instead he stood there just looking at Rain with a smirk on his face.
“Did he tell you how much he enjoyed our time together, Rain?”
Rain didn’t answer, instead he started pulling his power up quietly pulling mist to coat the porch floor slowly freezing the ground to make it slick and harder for Ifrit to move. Their bodies coated in rain, the water droplets falling heavier and heavier.
Ifrit threw the first bolt of fire at Rain, which was quickly doused with the water. They found themselves volleying back and forth, one trying to tire the other out. When that didn’t work, Ifrit continued his tirade as Rain started to pull the water from his body. He could see him start to flag as soon as he did it.
Rain stalked closer to Ifrit, his hands shaking as he continued, the face before him starting to sink into his bone structure, the flesh becoming less supple. While Rain didn’t relish the thought of killing someone, he knew this was the only option.
“Did - Did he tell you?” Ifrit cursed his voice, he knew Rain was beginning to get the upper hand and he was losing.
Rain again didn’t answer all his thoughts on his powers, he wouldn’t give Ifrit the benefit of him breaking his concentration.
“He could be pregnant, did you know that? What are you going to do when you have to see me in our child everyday? He will always be partly mine, he will never be just yours, Rainy.”
A child? No, that couldn’t be right, right? Dew would have told him. The image of Dew and Eidolon whispering in the corners and the horrible nightmares Dew had been having. Was it beyond the torture of what Rain thought, was he plagued that he could be carrying Ifrit’s child? Why wouldn’t he tell him? Rain would have supported him?
Ifrit’s plan worked, Rain lost all concentration on the task at hand. He could hear Aether shouting at him, but all he could see was Dew being forced by Ifrit, the image playing over and over in his mind. It allowed Ifrit to regain some of the upper hand, he quickly threw bolt after bolt of fire at Rain, when that didn’t work he sent a wave of fire crashing over all of them. Aether to the side wasn’t affected but Rain was engulfed in the flame. His water magic quickly eliminated the threat to himself, but not before he could smell hair burning on his body.
He advanced quickly to Ifrit, throwing up waves of water knocking him off of his feet, causing the bolts of laser focused fire to fly erratically in every direction. It didn’t stop Rain from pouncing, the slow pull of water from Ifrit before was nothing to Rain’s furry, he pulled it out in record time, and when before him was a desiccated man, he began to flood his lungs with all the water from around them. Not letting up.
“You are a sick fuck! You will never touch Dewdrop again. Never!” Rain shouted between tears and fury.
“He will never be yours again, do you hear me Ifrit? NEVER!”
He watched in satisfaction as Ifrit struggled for breath, the weight of the water on his flooded lungs cracking all of his ribs. He could feel his lungs expanding and expanding outwards as more water flooded them. Never giving up the relentless pursuit of drowning him in the driest parts of hell. His eyes bulged as he gasped for breath, but he would never find air again. The disbelief present on his face, that Rain had beat him. That he could be beaten.
Ifrit died in front of him. The water that flooded him moments ago fled his body to saturate the ground, finding serenity in being able to give back to the world again. Ifrit’s body slowly started to disintegrate into ash. It vaguely passed Rain’s mind how weird it was that he had flooded him with water only for him to break apart like a fire had engulfed him in the bluest hue of its ember. It wasn’t slow, if he hadn’t been watching he wouldn’t have believed that was what had happened to Ifrit. His eyes peered up at Rain, unfocused, in the glassy glance of death. They were the last thing to break down. His death stare would haunt Rain to think about them later.
Rain collapsed to his knees, he was finally done. Ifrit wouldn’t hurt them anymore. He wouldn’t hurt Dew. Dew could start to heal from Ifrit’s depravity. The tears wouldn’t stop, he felt the joy of it being over, but the weight of what he had to do plagued him. He knew it needed to be done, there was no other option, but the questions of what had happened to Dew, now flooded his mind. Where did they go from here?
Moments fled by incredibly fast as he kneeled in disbelief, surprised he hadn’t heard Aether yet shouting with joy. Why hadn’t he heard Aether yet? Why was it so quiet?
Rain quickly turned around to see Aether slumped on the side, a blackened hole surrounding his heart. The errant fire beams Ifrit shot off had hit him. Rain had never moved so fast, flying to his side trying as if that could slow the inevitable.
“Aether, hang on. We will get you to a healer. Hold on!” He cried, reminiscent of last year when Rain was in a similar position with Aether shouting at him.
Aether grabbed his hands, pulling him closer to whisper in Rain’s ear. “It is too late. Rain, it is ok, please watch over Phantom. Tell him how much I love him. Make sure he gets to safety, please promise me this?”
Rain watched as color drained from Aether’s purple eyes, slowly lightening to a white, his body so very cold as Rain held onto his hands.
“No, don’t give up! You are going back with us!” He cried.
“Promise me Rain, please! Promise me you will get him home!”
Rain shook his head back and forth in disbelief. How could this be happening, they had won this. They couldn’t be in this position, not again. They couldn’t lose anyone.
Aether’s voice was getting lighter as he repeated himself over and over.
“I promise, Aeth, I promise. I am so sorry!” Aether gripped his hand tightly before it grew lax, at peace with the promise that Phantom would be taken care of. He was at peace in death, he would gladly give his life for Phantom to have a chance. He was partially to blame for all of this, if he would have spoken up long ago, maybe Ifrit wouldn’t have gotten this far.
“Thank you, Rain” The last words he spoke before he too started to disintegrate in front of Rain. His body turning to ash, caught in the confines of the incantation. He was gone permanently.
Rain didn’t know how long he sat on that veranda besides the ashes of Aether’s body, sobbing for everything Ifrit had taken from them, before he picked himself up and started back towards Dew and Eidolon. Going home, going home to Dew.
*******************************************************
He didn’t just leave the estate, he made sure everyone was out, finding the bedroom where Dew was held along the way. His scent still on the unwashed sheets, intermingled with what he assumed was Eidolon’s or Ifrit’s. The thought of both, either, with Dew made him vomit in the attached bathroom before he closed the door quickly.
There was no one in the house, they had all fled either before the fight or during. Easier for Rain to do what he knew needed to be done.
After he exited the room he left for last, Ifrit’s study, he lit fire to the place. Carrying some documents and a leather bound journal he hoped would give them some insight into what he had done to Eidolon. Aether had been informed Ifrit wrote in it consistently, so he wasn’t leaving it behind.
He watched the fire burn from the car a few miles away on a hillside. Loving that Dew’s elements, both fire and water, had finished this place and the ghoul in the end. The color of the fire against the blood red sky, turned the image in front of him a shade of orange, all the colors of a sunset trying to fight for dominance. Rain found something in the orange, a peace knowing that the ghoul known as Ifrit, his plague on this land was done.
*******************************************
Driving back to the house was a drawn out process, he had contacted Copia and told him where to open the portal and when. He didn’t question Rain when he said he was bringing back Aether’s brother but not Aether. He knew the time for questions was for later, he could hear the tremble in Rain’s voice. He told him not to worry, they would take care of everything and be waiting for them at the allotted time when they came through to the abbey.
It was dark again when he got back, much like when they had left earlier. The house had lights on in almost every window, as if welcoming the warriors back from the war, he thought with a grimace. Only one warrior, and not much of a warrior.
He dreaded having to tell Eidolon and Dew about Aether, knowing his brother would never forgive him and the rage that would follow once he shared that news. He must have sat in the vehicle for at least a half an hour before forcing himself to exit.
He walked slowly to the door, dragging his feet. He just wanted to get them home, to rest, pick up the pieces of his shattered being. He was surprised when he heard the front door creak open and Dew’s head peek out of the frame. Rain didn’t even recognize the sound of Dew’s gasp and his feet on the ground before their bodies crashed together. The exhaustive weight of what just transpired hours before found Rain’s knees buckling. Dew held him as he sank to the ground, clinging to one another in desperation. There were no words, there didn’t need to be any, there was time to talk, time to listen, time to put their life back together. Time.
The only thing that broke them apart was when they heard Eidolon, suddenly standing beside them, asking where Aether was.
Rain’s legs trembled as he rose back up to his feet, pulling Dew along with him. He wasn’t ready to let go yet, knowing everything was about to change again. Their eyes locked, Dew picking up on Rain’s hesitation.
His voice trembled as he spoke the words that would seal any future dealings with Eidolon, “I-I am, I don’t know how to say this, I am, fuck.”
“What, spit it out, it isn’t like you killed him too,” Eidolon responded with a huff, exasperation evident on his face at having to deal with Rain again.
When Rain didn’t meet his eyes and didn’t speak for a moment, Eidolon continued, “You didn’t right? He is still in the car right?”
“AETH,” he shouted, running to the vehicle. When he saw no one inside, he turned back to Rain, fury evident on his face.
“You can’t tell me you are this inept that got my brother killed, that YOU KILLED HIM?”
“The spell, it-,” stumbling over his words, he tried to get it all out, taking another breath he steadied himself and continued, “The spell, if anyone in the circle was hit, it ended them. Ifrit was erratic at the end and one of his bolts hit Aether.”
“I tried, Ei-,” that was all Rain could utter before he felt his head swing back with the force of Eidolon’s fist. He fell to the ground again, flinging Dew from him so he wasn’t caught in his fury. His fists pummeled him again and again, not stopping. He could hear Dew shouting at Eidolon, trying to pull him off of Rain. Rain stopped feeling the fists on his face, assuming Dew had finally been able to put Eidolon off of Rain. When he finally opened his eyes back up, he could see Dew standing with Eidolon to the side, his arms around him, whispering in his ear furtively.
Eidolon broke out of Dew’s grasp and knelt down beside Rain, whispering for only him to hear, “You are so fucking useless, Rain. I can’t believe you still exist. I will find a way to make everyone see how useless you are.”
As they stood there in silence, the portal suddenly appeared to the side of the home. The faint outline of the abbey room visible through the center. He didn’t realize time had flown so fast already.
“That’ll be Copia, we should go before it draws attention,” Rain mumbled, bending to retrieve the satchel he brought back with him from Ifrit’s house. When no one moved his gaze stumbled over them ultimately landing on Dew.
His eyes were red and bloodshot, when did he cry? Of course he cried, one of his closests friends had been killed. He wished not for the first, or surely the last, time that he could remove all the pain Dew had to endure in the last few months.
“Please go, this will be the only thing I ask of you, I want you to be safe. I will bring up the rear to make sure you both get through,” Rain begged quietly.
He watched as Dew nodded and grabbed Eidolon’s hand to walk towards the portal. The swirling purple and black lights glistening like the sun through Dew’s hair, the outline of his body illuminated by the otherworldly light. It was only then that Rain noticed Dew was clutching a small package of letters in his other hand. There was no time to question what they were, but he could only assume they were what he had left Dew with. His mind screamed at him to ask if he read them, what he thought, did he still love him? Eidolon and Dew were through the portal in the blink of an eye.
Dew was home. Finally.
*************************************************
As Rain stumbled into the summoning room, he saw Dew to the side of the room first. His eyes watching as Rain gathered his bearings from the trip. Their friends were all there waiting for them, Copia was there.
He could hear Dew talking quietly with Mountain to the side, as he too looked at Rain with grief. When he moved as if to go to Rain’s side he shook his head, Dew needed him more right now.
He found Copia watching him also, he moved to tell him that he could close the portal, this was everyone, but Copia shook his head.
“Rain, you can’t stay. We already got a summons. You have to go back.” His solemn tone leaving no room for questions from Rain, he knew this was a possibility.
They knew that there were forces at work that didn’t want Rain to go back to the pit and take care of Ifrit, the delay on being able to go was proof of that. They had discussed before going that something like this could happen, they hoped it wouldn’t but were prepared.
“I understand. Can I say goodbye?”
Copia looked to the portal before answering, “You have less than a minute before guards will be sent through. I’m sorry, Rain. We will work on everything we can from this side.”
Before he threw his arms around Copia, he handed him the backpack with the documents and told him to keep it safe. In the hug, he tried to convey everything he could in mere moments. “Please take care of him,” he whispered in his ear before he turned around to stumble across the room to Dew.
He made his way to Dew’s side, to break the news and say goodbye, but he found he couldn’t tell him.  He reached out absentmindedly to caress Dew’s face and when Dew pulled back from the touch, his hand quickly dropped to his side.
“I will move all of hell to be back with you as soon as I can.  I promise.”  He vowed as Dew looked on with confusion.
“What do you mean?  We are here now.”  
“I have to go back, ‘M sorry I don’t have time to explain, Copia will be able to tell you more.”
“Don’t go,”  Dew begged as the tears started to slide down his face again.
Everything in his being was screaming at him to stay, to run away with Dew, to never come back. They’d find them anywhere though, there was no escape.  The best he could do was leave Dew with the people who loved him.  He tried to take in that one last look, memorizing his face, the tilt of his head as he begged, the way his lips puffed out as he cried.  He wished he could see his smile.
“It’ll be ok.”
“It’s not ok, Rain.”  It’ll never be ok again, he sobbed to himself.
His time was up.  
As he drew away from everyone, he looked at all of them one last time, saving Dew for last. He tried to keep him in his vision until the last second, the portal swallowing him from his sight.  He hated that the last thing he would see was Eidolon moving towards Dew to comfort him.  
**********************************
“You have been summoned back to answer for your crimes against Ifrit Coal and Aether Lucent.”  The sound of the key in the cell door was the last thing he heard before he broke down.  Pain and grief his only companion in his exile.  He was pretty sure that was what he deserved.
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
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Rated E | complete | 89,621 words | art by inklessletter
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bultaoreunheyyy · 17 days
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Part 4
the sickfic without a title
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 - word count: 4,120
Namjoon and Hoseok make their way towards the town that’s adjacent to the lake on their bikes in the heat of the day, sweat dripping from their brows and skin golden and shining under the sun. 
They stop halfway there, at the highest point on the road, and walk a quarter of a kilometer up the dirt path to a viewpoint that looks out over the lake. It’s one of Hoseok’s favorite spots to visit when they go hiking in the area every summer, mostly because he loves to look at their house across the lake from this perspective. It looks tiny from up here, and sometimes Hoseok likes to imagine it’s a little model that Namjoon made of his dream house for all his boyfriends to live in. He’s told Namjoon as much, multiple times, just so he can sit and watch Namjoon talk when he launches into an explanation of how he only made blueprints on paper and not an actual miniature model of the house.
“We’ve gotta bring Jimin up here when he’s feeling better,” Namjoon says as he looks out over the lake. “We haven’t been on any hikes yet. And he would love this view.”
Hoseok leans against a tree and watches Namjoon admire the view until Namjoon catches him looking, and subsequently flushes a bright pink under his intense stare.
“What?”
“Mm. I just agree with you. Jimin would love this view.” 
Namjoon rolls his eyes and motions with his hand. “Let’s get going,” he says, but he playfully grabs a handful of Hoseok’s ass as he brushes past him. 
The tiny grocery store in town looks the exact same as it does every time they visit. The owner greets them warmly, asking about how their summer has been. She’s known them for years now, and when she hears about Jimin and Jungkook, she immediately starts to gather up a bag of extra supplies and food. 
“I hope you’re taking very good care of those boys,” she tells them as they check out. Hoseok is pretty sure she thinks they’re all brothers, or cousins. “Come back for a visit if you need anything at all.” 
After promising that they’re taking the best care of Jimin and Jungkook, and bowing profusely in thanks, Namjoon and Hoseok make their way back to their bikes.
“Popsicles are gonna melt before we get back,” Hoseok comments as he adjusts all of the groceries in the basket attached to his bike. He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
“We better ride fast, then,” Namjoon replies. He gets on his bike and then suddenly Hoseok is in his space.
“Oh, I can ride very fast,” he says, voice low.
Namjoon darts his head forward and plants a kiss on Hoseok’s lips. “I know you can, baby,” he smirks, and Hoseok squeaks and looks around wildly. 
“It’s okay,” Namjoon chuckles. “No one was watching.” He pushes his kickstand up with his heel. “Race you home!” He shouts, and then he takes off, pedaling fast and leaving Hoseok to gape at his retreating form.
“No fair!” Hoseok shouts after him, jumping onto his bike and nearly losing his balance as it wobbles unevenly with the weight of the groceries. “You could have at least taken one of these bags!” 
*
When Namjoon and Hoseok return, both Jimin and Jungkook are still asleep, and Seokjin is in the living room playing video games while Yoongi and Taehyung watch.
“How was town?” Seokjin asks, pausing his game. He glances over at Yoongi and Taehyung, who look far too tired for his liking, leaning against each other on the couch. Namjoon and Hoseok don’t look much better, drenched in sweat from their bike ride and hiding yawns behind their hands. 
“Good,” Namjoon replies. “It’s like that little town never changes. We got everything we needed and then some. We picked up some pre-made food for dinner, too. Figured it would be nice not to have to cook tonight.” 
“I need a shower,” Hoseok says. He yawns. “And a nap.” 
Taehyung stands with a stretch. “You two go shower. I’ll put the groceries away.” 
“I’m joining you,” Namjoon says to Hoseok once he sees Yoongi join Taehyung to unpack the groceries. “I’m so sweaty and gross.” 
They all pretend to not see the eyebrow wiggle Hoseok gives him in return.
Seokjin sends Yoongi and Taehyung off for a nap too once everything is put away. Since Jimin and Jungkook are both sleeping, Seokjin decides he can always wake one of the others up if he needs anything, or if they’re all still sleeping by dinnertime. For now, all he wants to do is sit on the couch and play video games.
A full hour passes by before Seokjin takes a stretch break, standing up and arching his back until he feels a satisfying crack. He makes a trip into the kitchen for some water and a snack, and then heads back to his comfy spot on the couch. He’s just settling down for another round of KartRider when he hears a door open somewhere down the hall, and then soft footsteps approaching. He sets down his controller and watches Jimin shuffle into the living room, and he can’t believe he missed that the younger man was sick earlier with how he looks now, exhaustion visibly weighing him down. Jimin’s eyes and nose are red and he’s wearing what looks like one of Jungkook’s oversized black hoodies, sleeves hanging all the way past his fingertips and hood pulled up over his hair.
“Hey sleepyhead,” Seokjin greets him. “How was your nap?”
Jimin yawns, and then sneezes four times in a row, looking slightly dazed afterward.
“Hey,” he croaks, pressing a knuckle against his septum. His eyelashes flutter and Seokjin can tell he’s got another sneeze coming. 
After a moment, he sniffs hard, rubs aggressively at his nose, and then shuffles a few steps closer. Seokjin pats the couch next to him and Jimin plops down onto the cushion with a series of wet sniffles, knuckle still resting against the underside of his nose. 
“Taehyung says you’re not feeling well?’
“He…?” Jimin trails off, face scrunched up in confusion, and then he sighs. “Oh.” he sniffles thickly and leans his head back against the couch. “That’s why I feel like shit.”
“Sounds like you might have caught a cold.”
Jimin presses the heel of his hand to the underside of his nose, then pulls his hand away quickly, frowning at the moisture left behind in disgust and wiping his hand on his pants. “Ugh. I thought it was the cleaning stuff that was irritating my throat and sinuses. And I’ve had a headache but…I thought I was just tired, we’ve all been so tired…Am I the only one? Is everyone else feeling okay?” Jimin peers at Seokjin. “Are you feeling okay?”
He barely waits for Seokjin to nod before he’s groaning loudly.
“Oh shit! I let Jungkook use my chapstick! And I’ve been cuddling with him– What if he catches this too? I should…I should go stay at a hotel or something, I–”
“Jimin, love. Take a breath,” Seokjin interrupts. He tugs Jimin to his chest and runs his fingers through the younger man’s hair. “You’re not staying in a hotel. Don’t be ridiculous. Jungkook won’t catch your cold, but we don’t want you catching what he has on top of a cold, either. Best to stick to your room as much as you can.” 
Jimin nods against his chest, sniffling softly, sadly. 
“And we’ll double disinfect everything. It’s going to be fine, we just need to be careful until you’re both feeling better.” 
Another nod. Seokjin smiles and presses a kiss to Jimin’s temple. Belatedly, Jimin jerks upright, scooting down the couch away from Seokjin with a gasp.
“Jinnie! You shouldn’t be cuddling me right now!” 
Jimin looks like he’s about to cry. He makes a sad sound in the back of his throat, and then he’s sneezing again another four times in a row, his face scrunching up in irritation.  
“Goodness,” Seokjin tuts. He looks around until he spots a box of tissues on a nearby end table, which he fetches and brings back to the couch. “Blow your nose.”  
Jimin complies, going through several tissues before he slumps back against the couch with a stuffy sigh.
“Now,” Seokjin says, pressing a kiss to Jimin’s temple. “I’m going to make you something hot to drink. Go rest, please.”
“I was just resting.”
“You can never have too much rest. Especially on vacation. Especially when you’re sick. Namjoonie and Hoseokie went into town earlier and got tissues and cold medicine.” 
“For me?”
Seokjin chuckles. “Of course, love. All for you. You’re the one with a cold.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t even realize,” Jimin groans. He’s so congested now that his words are hard to make out. 
“Go on. I’ll bring everything to your room.”
Jimin nods and wordlessly shuffles back down the hall, looking defeated.  
He’s already drifting off to sleep when Seokjin gets there with an armful of supplies– cold medicine, tissues, throat lozenges, and a mug of hot tea– so Seokjin sets everything down on the nightstand as quietly as he can, presses a kiss to Jimin’s forehead, and leaves him to nap in peace. 
*
“You’re gonna get pruney in there.”
“Hmm?” Jungkook feels sleepy. He looks over at Namjoon without moving his head. “Oh. Don’t care,” he murmurs. He really doesn’t. It feels so good to lie in the warm water, to finally not be shivering with chills. “It’s warm. It’s worth it.” 
In the bath, Jungkook can kind of pretend he almost feels back to normal. He’s relaxed, he's at a comfortable temperature, he’s not covered in his own sweat, and he’s not in bed nor hunched over a toilet seat.
The others slowly trickle into the bathroom one by one and remind Jungkook that he’s actually still sick. Sick enough that they’re all still hovering, all wanting to keep an eye on him. Soon, they’re all in the bathroom– everyone except Jimin, which is odd considering he hasn’t seen Jimin yet today, and it’s already late in the evening. 
In fact, Jungkook realizes he hasn’t seen Jimin since yesterday morning, when he’d woken up in Seokjin’s bed. 
“Where’s Jimin?” He asks, turning his head to the side so he can look at Namjoon next to him.
“He’s in his room,” Namjoon answers, voice even, but Jungkook sees his jaw tense at the question. 
He glances over at Taehyung, who’s also suddenly tense, and not meeting Jungkook’s eyes.
“He’s just been sleeping. Catching up on some rest,” Yoongi says. He’s looking down at his phone and he’s frowning.
“Is he okay?” A sudden, uneasy feeling washes over Jungkook. “Why are you all acting so weird?”  
A few moments pass by in silence. Finally, Seokjin speaks. “He caught a little cold and he doesn’t want to pass it on to you.”
“What? Jimin has a cold? Shit,” Jungkook curses. “Is he okay? How is he feeling?” He sits upright and pulls the plug from the drain. “How did he get sick?”
“Slow down, Kook,” Namjoon says, but Jungkook is already standing and reaching for his towel.
“Is he asleep right now?”
The lack of response he gets to his question tells Jungkook that the answer to that is no. He can go check on Jimin now if that’s the case. 
“Jungkook, it’s okay, baby,” Seokjin says as he watches Jungkook towel dry his hair with a sudden urgency. “It’s really just a little cold. Jimin is fine, and he’s resting in bed right now. Joonie and Hoseokie already went into town to pick up some more medicine and stuff for him. They got some popsicles for you, too. Want one now? You haven't had anything to eat yet tonight.”
Jungkook shivers at the thought of eating a cold popsicle. He’s fucking cold again, and he’d be sad about that fact if not for the worry that’s overtaking him. “No, thanks,” he responds. “Maybe later.” He had skipped dinner on purpose, his stomach clenching dangerously at the thought of a meal.
He quickly pulls on his clean clothes that Taehyung presents him with and then makes a beeline for Jimin’s room, skillfully maneuvering past his boyfriends all crowded in the bathroom before they can stop him. 
“Uh, wrong way.” Hoseok catches up and grabs him gently by the elbow before he gets too far. “You’re not going to see Jimin right now! The last thing you need is to catch his cold, Kookie.”
“What– I’m not going to catch his cold,” Jungkook argues. He’s getting a little frustrated now. “I just want to check on him and see if he needs anything.” 
“We’ve already checked on him,” Yoongi promises. He rests a hand on Jungkook’s back, rubbing back and forth softly.
“I can check on him too, though. I’m not a fucking baby–” 
A soft cough interrupts, and they all look over to see Jimin poking his head out of his room. 
“Hey,” he says. He sounds stuffed up and sleepy, and his eyes and nose are a bit red. He’s only looking at Jungkook, and Jungkook lets out a sad sigh.
“Jiminie,” he says, voice trembling. “I’m so sorry you’re sick.” 
“I’m okay, Jungkookie,” Jimin replies. He sniffles and leans out a little farther into the hallway. “Don’t worry about me, okay?” He coughs, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. 
Jungkook bites his lower lip. “Of course I’m going to worry about you. I’ve already been worrying so much that any of you are going to catch what I have. Now you have a cold?” He pouts. “How did you even catch a cold?” 
Jimin shakes his head and clears his throat. “I have no clue. Actually…” He lowers his gaze. “I guess, if I’m being honest, I haven’t been feeling my best for a few days now. I just didn’t realize it.” 
“It always takes you so long to realize it when you’re sick,” Taehyung tells him with a soft laugh. 
“Well, I’m still sorry you’re sick. I’d come give you cuddles but apparently I’m not allowed to.” Jungkook rolls his eyes in mock annoyance. 
“Of course you’re not!” Jimin gasps. “Jungkookie, you’re still sick too! Please don’t come near me.” 
Jungkook crosses his arms. “Nobody was even gonna tell me that you’re sick,” he complains.  
“We were going to tell you,” Yoongi corrects. “We just knew you would go into instant-worry mode and you don’t necessarily need that on top of already being sick yourself.”
Jungkook sighs, and then shivers visibly, his still damp hair making him feel cold. 
“Okay, rest time for Jungkookie and Jiminie,” Seokjin says. He puts his hands on Jungkook’s shoulders. “We know you’re not a baby, Jungkook. But just like you’re worried about Jimin, we’re all worried about the both of you. So the sooner you let us take care of you, the sooner you’ll feel better, and the sooner you and Jimin can cuddle.” 
“Fine,” Jungkook says with another shiver. He’s really, really missing the warm bath. He wraps his arms around himself and shoots Jimin a tired smile.
“Feel better soon, so we can cuddle soon,” he orders, and Jimin breaks out into a smile. 
Seokjin starts to guide Jungkook to his own room, but after a few steps he stops short.
“Jinnie?” Jungkook asks sweetly, turning to his oldest partner. “Can I please borrow your slippers? The pink fluffy ones?” 
Even though it’s a bit of an odd request, as Jungkook has never asked to borrow Seokjin’s slippers once in his life, Seokjin is quick to nod and hurry off to retrieve them. 
As soon as he gets back and hands them over, Jungkook ducks around Hoseok so quickly he doesn’t have time to react and makes a break down the hall towards Jimin. He gets there before any of them can react, and he kneels at Jimin’s feet and sets the slippers down in front of him.
“You can’t walk around barefoot when you’re sick,” he says, nodding down at Jimin’s bare feet. 
Jimin snorts out a startled, stuffy laugh. “Oh, Jungkookie.” He wiggles his toes and slips his feet into the slippers with another giggle, smiling fondly down at Jungkook when he reaches out to help him with the second one.
Jungkook sits back on his heels, one hand wrapped around Jimin’s calf, looking up at him with the same fondness. 
“Feel better soon. I’m really sorry that you’re sick.” 
Jimin’s eyes are suspiciously wet when he responds. “Thank you, my sweet Kookie. I’ll get better very fast, I promise.” 
“Love you,” Jungkook says, and with one last pat to Jimin’s leg, he stands and takes a big step backward to keep some space between them. “Rest well.” 
“You too, sweetie,” Jimin replies, also taking a step backwards into his room. 
After that, Jungkook lets Hoseok finally take him back to his own room. He feels so suddenly drained of energy that he curls up on his side as soon as he’s on the bed, achy and shivering, and he doesn’t realize until Yoongi holds up a fever patch that it’s because his temperature is up again.
“Joon and Hoseok got these at the store earlier,” Yoongi tells him. “Thought it might be more comfortable for you than the cold washcloths.”
Jungkook nods, because he knows from past experience that Yoongi is right. He closes his eyes as Yoongi places it on his forehead and then kisses the tip of his nose. 
“Did you get the honey throat lozenges?” Jungkook asks, eyes still closed. He hears a soft laugh from his right.
“Yes,” Namjoon responds. “We know what Jimin likes, you know.”
Jungkook nods, and immediately regrets it when it makes him feel dizzy even though he’s lying down. 
“Sleep, baby,” Seokjin says from somewhere above him. 
Jungkook sleeps. 
*
Several different things hit Jungkook all at once when he wakes up the next morning. 
The first is that it’s morning. That means he actually slept through the night. Without waking up to puke, without waking up drenched in sweat, without waking up too hot or too cold or too uncomfortable. He’s warm and cozy under his blanket and the early morning light is filtering through his window.
The second is that he’s on his stomach, which is his preferred sleeping position, but he hasn’t really been able to sleep on his stomach when his stomach has been so upset. His stomach feels fine though in this position, and the pressure almost feels nice. 
However, it also means there’s pressure on his bladder— another thing of note, because it means that he’s not as dehydrated as he has been lately, if he actually has to pee upon waking up. 
But the most pressing matter that fights for Jungkook’s attention isn’t the time of day, nor the position he’s in, nor his full bladder. 
It’s the fact that he has an itchy nose. 
A very, very itchy nose. 
Jungkook huffs out an irritated breath into his pillow and scrunches up his face sharply. Not only does his nose itch, but his throat is also very dry and irritated. He needs water, he needs to pee, and he needs desperately to scratch his nose, but he doesn’t want to have to deal with any of that because he’s nearly comfortable for once and he doesn’t want to move from the warmth of his blanket. With a sleepy sigh, he rubs his nose against his pillow, which kind of helps with the itch, except now it’s more on the inside than the outside. He scrunches up his nose, wiggles it around, and then sniffs hard, and that makes it way worse– it makes him feel like he needs to sneeze. Without meaning to, he whimpers in frustration, breath catching as the maddening tickle in his nose intensifies. 
“Oh? Good morning,” A voice murmurs in his ear, and it completely scares the sneeze away just as it reaches its crest, leaving him teary-eyed and a little out of breath. 
“Uhh?! Hmph.” 
A deep chuckle, and then Yoongi is rubbing his back, in between his shoulder blades. “Are you still asleep?”
“Nghh.” Jungkook sniffles and shifts uncomfortably. 
“What’s wrong, love? You feeling okay?”
“I have to pee and my nose is itchy,” Jungkook whines, his voice muffled in the pillow. 
Yoongi lets out a snort and then a soft chuckle. “Okay. Get up and pee then.” Then, when Jungkook doesn’t move, he asks, “Do you need help getting to the bathroom?”
“No.” 
Yoongi waits for a beat. “...Okay?”
“Don’t wanna move.”
Another chuckle. “Don’t blame you. You look so cute and cozy right now. Did you sleep well?” 
“Hmm,” Jungkook answers non-committedly. He probably did, but now he can only focus on all of the discomforts of waking up. He turns his head and squints up at Yoongi. “Yoongi?” He uses his softest, most pleading voice he can muster.
“What do you need, baby?”
Jungkook feels Yoongi lean closer. He nuzzles into his pillow some more. “Can you please get me some water? And will you scratch my nose?”
Yoongi blinks at him, mouth dropping open. 
“Please,” Jungkook begs. “It’s so itchy and I don’t wanna move.” 
“You want me to scratch your nose for you?” Yoongi gapes at him. 
Jungkook whimpers on purpose this time, for dramatic effect. 
“Get up to pee and scratch your own nose,” Yoongi grumbles, but he shuffles even closer. “Where does it itch?” His fingers hover over Jungkook’s nose, waiting. 
Jungkook scrunches up his nose again. “Everywhere.”
“That’s helpful,” Yoongi replies dryly. 
“Yoongi,” he whines with a sniffle. 
“Okay, okay.” Yoongi begins dragging his fingernail down the side of Jungkook’s nose, an amused smirk on his face. 
“Left,” Jungkook grunts, nose scrunching at the touch. “Now right. Okay, now on the tip– ohh, wait, yeah…yeah I think…” Jungkook sniffs sharply. “Ugh, nevermind. It’s not working. It still itches.” He clears his throat loudly and sticks out his lower lip.
“I did all that work for nothing?” Yoongi asks incredulously. He frowns when Jungkook clears his throat again and then coughs once.
“You okay?”
“Mm.” Jungkook swallows, clears his throat. “My throat is dry.”
“You’re full of complaints this morning, aren’t you?” Yoongi says, rolling his eyes, but Jungkook can hear relief in his voice too. He knows that they’ve all been so worried about him, but if he’s up to complaining, it’s a sign he’s feeling better. 
“I’m sorry your throat hurts. I’ll make you some tea in a bit.” Yoongi frowns. “Did you throw up again last night?”
All amusement in his expression is gone, replaced by concern. 
“No,” Jungkook quickly responds. “No, I’m just thirsty.” He bats his eyelashes a few times. “I could really use some water right now.” 
“Oh my god, Jungkook! Get your ass up, drink some water, go pee, and scratch your own damn nose!” 
There’s a startled gasp from the doorway, and they both look over to see Namjoon standing there.
“What’s going on?” he asks cautiously, narrowing his eyes at Yoongi. 
Jungkook finally sits up and scrubs both of his hands over his entire face, pawing at his nose a few times after until the itch in his nose is gone. “Good morning,” he tells Namjoon when he’s done. “How’s Jimin?”
Namjoon, still looking confused, approaches the bed and sits down on the end. 
“Jimin is doing okay. Hoseok just checked on him.”
As if summoned, Hoseok enters the room and hops on the bed. “Good morning, cuties,” he says cheerfully. “Jimin just fell back asleep. He’s doing alright, all things considered.”  
“Jungkook, how do you feel?” Namjoon asks. 
Jungkook is about to respond, but then the itch in his nose that had plagued him earlier returns, tickling at the insides of his sinuses persistently and making his breath catch. On his next inhale, the feeling spreads and he gasps sharply, face scrunching up, and then sneezes.
It feels terrible. His nose is suddenly runny, his dry throat aches, and his full bladder protests at the sudden outburst. 
“Bless you,” Hoseok coos.
Namjoon gets up and retrieves a tissue for him when he sees Jungkook sniffling, his face still scrunched up. 
Yoongi leans over and rubs him on the back. “You okay?” He asks.
“That was really, really not great,” Jungkook gasps, squeezing his eyes shut until the discomfort passes. “I almost just pissed myself when I sneezed.”
Hoseok bursts into laughter at the admission, but Yoongi yanks the blankets off him and all but shoves him off the bed.
“Go to the fucking bathroom already!”
Part 5
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1dchristmasfest · 1 year
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Day 1 🎄🎅🏻
Love This Christmas by @chloehl10 // lovelarry10
Teacher Harry is excited for Christmas with his class. When new TA Louis starts, sparks fly between the two men. But Louis’ always dashing off, and Harry's left pining. Will Christmas help them find love?
Read it now on Ao3!
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