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komitomi · 2 years ago

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Only you — ayato x f!reader

based on this request! i actually kind of went all out for this request cause it liked it very much, I did change a few things tho! sorry for the wait anon :(.

MDNI, NSFW WARNING! this fic contains; p in v sex, oral (f.receiving), p*rn with too much plot 😭, fingering (f.receiving), virginity loss, hymen breaking, slight mentions of blood, gentle!ayato, kinda ooc?, purity culture (?), reader is almost hit (not by ayato), infidelity (?, reader is engaged but her fiancé is a dumb cunt), angst to fluff to smut to fluff! + not proofread cause I had to rush this a little.

WC: ??

“So what did you say to the proposal?” The old and annoying voice of an elder reached ayato's ears, making him sigh out loudly before he put his brush down and looked up to the older man.

He was one of the few elders who oversee the tri-commission of inazuma together, there has been news that two of the clans have produced heirs and settled succession, the one lacking behind is the kamisato clan, the eldest son wasn't even betrothed.

This obviously led to immense pressure for heirs on the clan, everyone was urging ayato to get married and begin producing children, many proposals have come forward, which he rejected.

“I refused.” Ayato simply says, with a bored expression, he thinks this whole ordeal is stupid, he obviously still had many years left on him, he can produce heirs slowly, there really was no rush.

“Ayato,” the old man pauses and licks his lips before continuing, “I know you think we are being stupid, but by marrying and producing heirs, the kujou and hiiragi clan have indirectly said that they will continue to be a part of the tri-commission and that they will never be replaced. You, however, refusing to even simply marry has led to common folk of inazuma to spread rumors that the position of the kamisato clan have become weak.”

“Those are just rumors, we still have the same power and position as before.” Ayato retorts back before picking up his brush before dipping it in black ink and continuing to finish writing on the scroll.

“There are vile rumours surrounding the clan, both on political and personal matters, some even suggesting that you are barren and impotent—” the man seethes which makes ayato grip his brush so tightly that it cracks in the middle, the old man composes himself as he notices that.

“—which is why you aren't getting married, or have any bastards you can legitimize, they speculate.” he finishes and clears his throat, ayato looks at the scroll below him, the writing now messed up.

“I will take care of those rumours, there is nothing to worry about.” he answers calmly even though he was filled with anger, how dare they question him like that? whoever started those rumours clearly intended on sabotaging the clan.

“Ugh, at least marry off your sister.” the old man says frustrated which makes ayato glare at him, “Her children will be just as rightful heirs to this clan.” he taps his feet impatiently.

“Watch your tongue, besides, she is too young.” ayato says as anger starts spilling out of him, he was already filled with rage due to this entire ordeal, now suggesting that he marry his dear sister off when she barely just became of age filled him with fury.

“Listen my Lord, I know that you were angry with this but consider it, there are many fine men—” before he could finish his sentence the scroll that ayato was writing on was lifted and thrown in the man's direction, missing his face by a little gap.

“Get out!” ayato shouts, breathing heavily as he tried to contain his anger, the old man quickly scurries off in fear, leaving ayato alone.

He breathes a sigh of relief and relaxes his body, resting on the table in front of him, dozing off as he slowly recollects what just happened, he sighs heavily once again before holding his head in his hands, thinking about what to do.

Stress brought him to where he usually doesn't dare going, a red light area or more commonly known as the entertainment district, various forms of entertainment can be found here, but mostly it's sexual.

He didn't really know what he was doing here, he had gone out for a walk to clear his mind but found himself further away from his home and on the streets of the entertainment, he looked around to see many people, the sun had set only awhile ago yet this place was crawling with customers who frequent this area.

Maybe he was offended that people would even question his manhood, deeming him barren and impotent just because he didn't produce any heirs or father any bastards, he scoffed. He wasn't that experienced yes, but he had bedded a few women.

He entered one of the popular brothels in hopes of relieving his stress while also hoping rumours would circulate that he visited this area which will put an end to those vile rumours, as he made his way further inside he spotted a woman sitting there and playing an instrument while humming to herself, his eyes widened slightly.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on, for some reason it felt like the world just stopped moving as he took in her beauty, the way her hair is slightly disheveled, dressed in a plain and simple kimono, she looked absolutely perfect to him.

The owner of the brothel notices him, immediately recognizing him as the lord of the kamisato clan due to his posture and clothes and mainly the sigil.

“My Lord.” she bows to him which makes him snap out of his trance and nod in acknowledgement.

“What brings you here? If it isn't rude of me to ask, you are a very esteemed person after all.” she compliments him, to which he responds with “Oh, just to relieve some pent up stress.”

“Oh! You're at the right place then my Lord, we have many fine women— mina is one of–” as she starts suggesting she is quickly cut off by ayato. “I prefer her.” he points to the girl he saw before.

“Ah, her?” she asks and he nods, to which she replies with a sigh, “what is the matter?” he asks and the owner looks up at him with a frustrated expression, “She is a hassle, last time a customer requested her, she punched him, but then again it isn't her job to sexually please customers anyway.” she speaks up.

“Elaborate.” he simply says, “She isn't one of the brothel whores, her main job is to sing and play instruments to entertain others, they say her singing ability is so great that it has the ability to calm people down, which I can vouch for—”

“— but she also has a fiancee, well, he was practically the one who 'sold' her off here to make money, he visits every other day to take the mora she has earnt through her capabilities,” she scoffs at the thought of that moron “and she's also a virgin, so she won't be that great in bed.” she finishes and watches as ayato's expression turn sour at the mention that she has a fiancee.

“Ah, I see, well then tell her that I have requested an acquaintance with her, not with the intention of bedding her here.” he tells the owner and she simply nods as he watches her go to the girl and whisper to her.

The girl looks around the room and finally meets his eyes, his breath hitches in his throat at the eye contact, he quickly breaks it away and goes into one of the rooms, looking back to see her following him.

——————

You watched as the esteemed man enter the room, the owner had told you that he had no intention of bedding you and that he simply wants to have a talk with you, which reluctantly believed because who knows what will happen behind closed doors.

You quickly follow him inside and close the door behind you, your heart beating frantically due to fear of what will happen, you turned around to give him a smile, which he returns to your surprise.

“So what's your name?” he asks and you gulp, “Y/n.” you reply shortly.

“Nice to meet you y/n, you may sit.” you quickly sit across him on your knees and clasp your hands together, he watches as you fiddle nervously with your fingers before clearing his throat.

“My name is ayato, kamisato ayato.” he introduces himself, your eyes widen, you knew he was an esteemed man from his attire but didn't really expect him to be THE kamisato ayato, to be fair, you never really saw him in person as both of your worlds were completely different from one another.

“My apologies Lord.” you say quickly and bow and ayato nods, “It's okay, you must be confused as to why I requested you here?” he asks and you nod, “Well I had heard about your story by the owner and it seems that you're stuck here.” and you nod frantically, tears welling up in your eyes as you recall the main reason you're here.

Ayato quickly consoles you by rubbing your back as you look down while tears flow down your cheeks, “Hey, it's okay, I'm here if you want to talk” he coos gently and you look up at him, silence falls between you two with only your sobs breaking it from time to time as you calm yourself down before speaking.

“I- apologies for my messed up demeanor, it's just— I was forced to work here by my idiot of a fiancee, he is a moron who has a gambling addiction, I was forced into an engagement with him by my father, and now I'm permanently stuck here because if I try to leave, he will simply find me and only archons know what will happen if he finds out that I've escaped.” you open up, voice cracking in between sentences.

Ayato was fuming on the inside, who knew this beauty was put through so much? He felt mad, her moron of a fiancee didn't deserve her at all, she's way too nice, kind and beautiful for him.

“Do you wish to escape this place?” he asks and you look at him, you blink your tears away before wiping them with your hands and nodding.

“I can help you, but I'm afraid this method would not be to your liking.” he sighs, “what is the method my lord?” you ask and he ponders for a bit before deciding to tell you.

“The only way for you to escape this brothel would be to marry me and break off your engagement with your fiancee.” he says and looks at you, analysing your face for any answer but you show none.

“Your grace, as much as I love the idea, it seems it's rather too impractical, considering you are head of the kamisato clan, and I'm just a mere common girl, and it would be too much of a burden on you.” you say while looking down, you loved the idea, being able to escape this place and marry someone who isn't a gambling addict but rather a decent man, yet you knew your place.

“You won't be a burden, and it doesn't matter if you are a common girl, you're perfect as the role of my wife.” he speaks up.

“But why me?” you ask, he hums before answering “Like I said, you're perfect to be my wife and I know it for sure, but also because I've developed quite the fondness for you, believe it or not but you were the first girl who made me feel a certain type of way.” he confesses, and you blush.

“If you say so my Lord, I'll accept your proposal.” you say which brings a smile to his face before he nods, a comfortable silence falls between both of you and you decide to break it by starting another conversation.

Ayato didn't know how long the conversation was, but as each moment passed by and everything you revealed about yourself, he fell further and further deep in love, he never believed in love at first sight, but after seeing you, his mind had completely changed.

At first he was awestruck by your beautiful features, but by the end of your conversation with him, he was madly in love with the entirety of you.

“Shall we go back to my house?” he asks and you nod, “Very well.” he says as he gets off the floor and stands up, you following him, you both exit the room and he looks at you, “Wait here, I will speak with the brothel owner and settle things.” he says and goes to her.

The brothel owner looks confused before her expression is replaced with shock and she finally nods, agreeing to whatever he was saying and he gives her a smile before coming to where you were standing, “Let's go.” he smiles at you and holds his hand out for you to grab and you guys finally leave.

The walk back to his house was peaceful, he learnt a lot more about you, and his judgement was right, you were the perfect candidate to be his wife.

All other proposals he had received didn't suit his tastes, the ladies of those families are spoiled to the core, narcissistic and outright annoying, maybe it was fate that he had met you, never in his life was he so thankful for his impulsive decision.

You were currently in his chambers, sitting and waiting as ayato brought out a scroll and spread it on the table in front of you, “Write your name here.” he gives you the brush and ink.

“If you write your name down here, you will officially and legally be wedded to me for this moment onwards, we can do the ceremonial procedure later on.” he says and you nod, quickly dipping your brush in the ink and writing your name down.

He takes the brush from you and writes his name down as well, he waits until the ink dries, blowing on it before he scrolls it and ties it and stores it in a drawer, “That will be legal proof that we're married.” and you look up at him, now all the nerves finally kicking in.

You didn't feel nervous while writing your name on the scroll, it seems like the feelings were delayed and now suddenly you're anxious and fidgeting with your fingers, ayato notices and puts a hand on your shoulder, “There is nothing to be worried about, wife.” he says, the word wife rolling off his tongue with such affection made your stomach leap.

He slowly took your hand and kissed it before he noticed an engagement ring, his expression turned sour before he pulled it off from your finger and threw it away, as he continued to kiss up your arm.

“Now that we're married, shall we consummate it?” he asked, looking at you with his dark bluish eyes, you felt your heartbeat getting faster before you gave him a nod, “I need you to speak up, my wife.” he says and you take a deep breath, “Y-yes.” you nervously say. You had no idea what to expect next, this was your first time after all.

You felt butterflies erupt from your stomach as ayato gently undid your kimono, leaving you in your underclothes (hadajuban), he guided you to his bed, helping you sit on the edge of it.

You studied his face, eyes travelling from his mouth to his nose, to his eyes and back to his mouth again, you had'nt noticed it before, but now that you look at it closely– you realised he had a beauty mark below his lip which made him even more attractive.

The shuffling of ayato's clothes take your attention off of his face, you watched as ayato undressed, soon after, he was also in his underclothes, he leaned in to kiss you, making you move further unto the bed so he can rest his knees in between your thighs as his lips engulfed yours.

His lips were gently pressed against yours, you kissed him back, he almost moaned at the sensation of how soft your lips were against his, he bit your lower lip causing you to gasp which gave him an entrance to shove his tongue inside, you felt his tongue inside your mouth, swirling against yours as you sat there not having any idea what to do, he pulled back, “don't be nervous, just relax and let your body do its own thing.” he said before he rested his thumb on your lip, gently caressing it before kissing you once again.

This time you were the one to tongue-kiss him first, he was taken aback but quickly returned regained himself as his hands trailed down to undo your underclothes, untying the knot that was holding your top in place, he slowly slid it off you and your breasts were exposed to him, feeling shy you try covering yourself but ayato grabbed your arms pining them to your sides and he pulled away from the kiss.

“Don't hide yourself from me, dear wife, we are married now.” he says and you nod, he trails kisses down your neck down to your breasts and stops there, slowly kissing and biting the flesh which made your face burn with heat.

His hands leave yours and trail down your outline before he reaches your underskirt before slowly pulling off you, you were completely naked now, nothing covering you, you felt so vulnerable but ayato's gentle touches and coos made you feel safe.

He slowly took off his underclothes as well, leaving him bare, he did this so you don't feel ashamed or vulnerable anymore, indirectly conveying that it's completely alright and there is nothing to feel embarassed about.

You looked at his body, it was toned perfectly, he was slender near his waist but had wide shoulders, your eyes further trailed further down, gasping when you spotted his dick, it looked like it was about to burst with the way it was hard, his tip was pink and leaking precum, he was thick and decently long down there.

Your mind went back to when your mother taught you how intercourse works, that thing was supposed to go inside you, you looked up at him in panic “I-it won't fit.” you say nervously and he just chuckles, “It will, just let me prep you first okay?” he replies.

“Prep?” you ask him curiously, “Yes, we have to get your cunt nice and leaking for the entry to be easy.” you blush at the choice of words, you had only some basic idea of how intercourse worked and that too was told to you after your engagement with that moron, but even then, he never touched you, so you had zero to no experience when it comes to actual sex.

He pushed you down on the bed, making your head hit the pillow as he settled himself on top of you, with him inbetween your legs, you looked at him, the way his blue locks surrounded your face as he gave you a reassuring smile before he leaned to kiss you again, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back, he pulled away from the kiss and supported himself with his arms as he trailed kisses down your abdomen, before he stopped at your heat.

You felt his hot breath on your core which sent shivers down your spine as you watched what he was doing, his hands spread your thighs further apart before one of it leaves your thighs to spread your pussy lips, you felt yourself clenching around nothing at the contact.

“Oh, you're already wet.” he states, slowly tracing his finger up from your hole to bring the slick up to where your clit resides, you gasped when he pressed it lightly before he took his hand away and engulfed your clit.

You let out a whimper at that, hands gripping the sheets on your sides as his lips worked magic on your core, he moved in a skillful manner, swirling the bud around his tongue and sucked on it from time to time, the lewd noises of your whimpers and him practically making out with your cunt filled the room.

You felt him shift as he made room for his hands to rest near your entrance, before he shoved one of his fingers in gently causing you mewl at the sensation, he slowly pumped his finger in and out, giving you time to adjust while he was simultaneously eating you out.

You felt him add another finger once you were loose enough to take one more, you gasped, immediately clenching around him, he groaned with your clit in his mouth, which sent a shiver up your spine due to the vibration.

His moved his fingers in and out, curling them and pressing upwards which hit a certain spot that made you arch your back in order to aid him hitting it again, ‘bingo.’ he thought to himself and fastened the pace of fingers and his mouth.

You felt some type of tightness beginning to form your lower abdomen as he continued to keep the steady but fast pace with both his fingers and mouth, pushing you to the edge.

Ecstasy filled your body when the tightness in your abdomen snapped, pushing you to the brink of your climax, you saw stars as you arched your back and moaned loudly, your hands flew up to his hair as your hips moved by themselves to ride the orgasm out.

Your vision was clouded as you were gasping for air, the foreign feeling leaving your body as you came to your senses, ayato pulled away from your core to look at your expression, your eyes were hooded as you looked up at him with a lewd expression which made his dick throb.

“I never felt anything like that before..” you mutter which catches ayato's attention and he smirks, “So that was your first orgasm?” he asks and you nod, “Kind of- I touched myself before, but wasn't able to finish.” you admit shamelessly, oh god if your mother had heard this conversation then she would've fainted.

“I see, well, that certainly won't be your last.” he says cheekily before supporting himself on his arms, each by your side, and leaned in to peck your face.

“I'll put it in now okay?” he coos, brushing away small hair strands from your face with his hand, the very same hand travels down to his cock as he lines it up against your entrance, you can feel it's head poking the opening.

“Mhm.” you say gulping, preparing yourself for what's to come, you felt him enter inside, stretching your opening, you gasp as you grip his shoulders and look at him, it fucking hurts.

He is only barely halfway in yet it hurts like hell, you close your eyes as the pain of him stretching you open was too much to bear, he halts which makes you shoot your eyes open and look at him once again, “Relax your body okay? I'll be gentle.” he kisses you on the forehead and whispers in your ear.

You do as he tells you, the pain subsides slowly, but it immediately comes back as he fully pushes himself inside you, he doesn't move yet, waiting for you to adjust to his size, you take deep breaths, looking down at where you guys are connected and trying to relax, it was so nerve wracking.

“Shhh, it's alright, just relax and don't worry, darling.” he wipes away your tears with his hand gently, the way he said darling made you melt, you felt safe with him, the pain was slowly starting to go away, “Can i move now?” he asks and you nod, “Y-yes.”

He gives you a comforting smile before he starts thrusting, he tries to be slow so you can adjust but the way you felt around him was driving him insane so he immediately started moving fast, which made it hurt slightly.

You felt that area burning with the way he's moving but slowly the burning goes away as you adjust and relax around him, your hands leave his shoulders to wrap around his neck and you pull him in for a kiss, you moan into the kiss as you feel pleasure replacing the pain you felt prior.

“F-fuck— the way your cunt is wrapping around me, darling. Its— it's. It's driving me insane.” ayato moans, pulling away from the kiss, your arms fall from his neck to your sides, his hands quickly move to grab yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he makes love to you.

He fastens his pace up even more and looks down curiously, but gasps immediately when he sees blood, it seems your hymen broke at his impact, he slows down thinking you're in pain but you whine, “H-husband.” you utter out which makes him look at you, he felt his dick twitch at the title you had addressed him as.

“C-can you move faster?” you ask– oh so innocently, he lets out a low groan and fastens up his pace once again, the way he had barely met you only a few hours ago, yet he has fallen way too deeply in love for it make sense, everything about you was perfect, your face, your body, the way your pussy wraps around his cock.

The noises of skin slapping, high moans fill the room, the way his cock is hitting all your right spots, making you feel so good, his hands left yours to grab your boobs, the flesh in between his fingers when he squeezes them looked so perfect.

His thumbs rub over your hardened nipple in a teasing manner as you whimper, he slowly plays with them, rubbing it between his finger and pinching it occasionally to draw a gasp or two out of you.

You feel a familiar tightness forming again in your stomach as you feel ayato hitting the same spot from earlier, the way he felt inside you was making your stomach churn in pleasure, you fit him like a perfect glove, your pussy was practically taking his cock like it was created solely for it.

And he wouldn't doubt that, considering the events earlier, it seems that you were infact, made for him.

“Mhmpf! A-ayato! I'm— I'm near my peak!” you yell out which makes him moan and his hands leave your breasts and rest on your hips as he pulls himself up and grips your hips before rutting into you relentlessly.

He was also near his peak, your moans, whimpers all sound like music to him, especially the way you moan out his name, as if chanting a prayer to the archons, he moans your name too, reciprocating your dedication.

Your arch your back as your mouth opens wide and a loud moan leaves your throat, eyes once again clouded as black dots appear in your vision, you come undone beneath him, repeating his name as if your life depended on it.

Oh and it pushed him to the edge as well, his thrusts becoming sloppier until he thrusts one final time before spilling his seed deep inside you, grunting at the sensation, he moves slowly and rides his orgasm out before pulling out to see your juices, blood and his cum mixing together, he collected some of it on his hands before tasting it.

You watched him do that in confusion and slight disgust because of the blood but he only just hummed pleasingly when he tasted it, licking the rest off his fingers as he looks down at your form with his piercing eyes.

“Darling.” he utters as he leans down to shower your stomach in kisses, you felt tingly. You let out a breath you did not now you were holding, he plops himself down next to you and pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead and looks at your face, eyes taking in your beauty, oh archons he could literally spend hours like this, you give a small smile which made his heart fill up with joy.

You both soon fell asleep in each others arms, for the first time in your life you felt safe and loved by someone, if someone told you a few hours ago that your life would play out like it did now, you would have laughed in their face and told them to stop drinking, but what was happening now was real and you felt at peace.

But that peace didn't last when you were woken up by commotion, you sit up and your eyes scanned the bed for any signs of ayato, but he wasn't there, you rubbed your eyes open and looked around the room to find few servants that were cleaning the room, “oh! the lady is awake.” one of them says, and they all rush over to you.

You were currently in front of a mirror as they had finished cleaning you up and were now dressing you in noble attire, an outfit that mimicked your husband's, whites and blues, which you assumed to be the major colors for formal attire of the kamisato clan, a small gold pin which contained the clan's symbol that seemed to resemble a flower, specifically a camellia flower, was pinned right above your breast, and then it finally dawned on you, the way they kept addressing you as 'lady', colors that mimic your husbands outfit, and now wearing the clan's crest, you were now officially the lady of the clan, kamisato ayato's lady wife.

It felt so surreal, you didn't know what to do or what to say, the servants sat you down on a stool before they began to do your hair, gently brushing and detangling it, that was when the door was slid open, ayato was in his formal attire as well, he watched as the servants greeted him before they turned to quickly finish doing your hair.

You felt his gaze burning through your back, the servants finished up, bowing before they left and closed the door behind them, you got up to face ayato and he immediately hugged you before leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“Where were you?” you asked curiously, tilting your head, he lifted your chin and leaned down to kiss your lips before answering, “I was dealing with the higher ups, working out a few issues oh, and also our marriage is officially now legalised, you are now the lady of this house.” he smiled.

You smiled back at that, before resting your arms on his and just enjoying this romantic moment, “I have to go now darling, there is still a slight settlement that needs to be done, I will be back soon.” he tells you and gives you another kiss, you nod and wave him goodbye as he leaves the chamber.

It has been a while since ayato has left, you were walking as there was nothing to do in the chambers, you decided to familiarize yourself with the residence until a servant rushed up to you, “Lady, there seems to be a guest for you, they are demanding your presence.” the girl says, “Oh? Take me there.” you say and she nods before she tells you to follow her which you do.

Your heart drops to your stomach in dread as the servant opens the door of the waiting room to reveal your fiancé, well, ex fiancé, 'what was he doing here now.' you think bitterly, he gets up and turns to face with a scowl on his face.

“Look who's finally here, the slut that seduced the head of the kamisato clan.” the servant gasped at hearing such degrading words directed towards you by him, “What do you want.” you speak, annoyed.

“what DO I WANT?! why was our engagement called off huh?! and i heard from the owner that you quit your job there!? I always knew you were a whore.” he yells, gritting his teeth in anger and he launches towards you, harshly gripping your shoulders, he reeks of alcohol.

“Let go of me!” you say pushing him off you, making him stumble, he seemed to be shocked by this and laughs, “It got to your head huh? Listen here, just because the clan head slept with you doesn't mean you're any important, he'll probably just dump you, and now nobody else will want you for marriage as you lost your virginity to him.” he laughs in a drunken state, you just looked at him confused, didn't he know that you were now the lady of the clan?

“There's still a chance you know? I will take you back, I don't mind that he took your virginity, you just have to work again and I'll marry you.” he chuckles and now it's your turn to laugh, “You think I'll go back to you? Oh please, I'd rather die.” you scoff, you see his face contort with anger, “You bitch—!” he launches towards you, raising his hand to hit, you close your eyes and turn your head to the side anticipating a hit but nothing comes.

You open your eyes to see ayato holding his hand in a tight grip, “Watch your tongue.” ayato warns, shoving him away from you and standing next to you, “Oh- oh Lord, my apologies, it seems my fiancé here has pleasured you deeply for you to care about her, but I'm here to take her back.” he bows, and ayato scoffs “Take her back? She's my wife now.” as soon ayato finishes that sentence, your ex fiancé's head shoots up to look at him in shock before he looks at you again, you stare at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I-” before he could speak, ayato draws his sword and rests it on his neck, “Should I have your tongue or your head for uttering such slanders towards my wife?” he asks genuinely, chest heaving with anger and you look at him, silently conveying through your gaze to not go that far.

Ayato lowers his blade, and immediately without waiting a second, your ex fiancé rushes out, running away, you scrunch your nose in disgust as the smell of alcohol passes through the air when he rushed past you.

“Thank you.” You say to ayato, he looks at you, you give him a tight hug and feel himself relax against you, “If the servant hadnt come to get me, he would've harmed you.” he mutters and sighs as he hugs you back.

“Seriously how can he treat someone as beautiful and amazing as you this bad?” he pouts and rub his back as reassurance, “But hey, now I have you.” you say and smile up at him, which he returns before leaning down to kiss you on the lips.

He pulls away from the kiss before gazing at the direction your ex had ran off to, “Maybe I'll have his head on a splatter.” you hear him say darkly and you punch his chest lightly, “No, Love.” you say sternly and his stomach erupts with butterflies.

Oh how you had him whipped and lovestruck.

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ajearthlinggg · 1 month ago

Text

exposing you based on your fav will wood/wwatt song (my longest post)

A lot of these have nothing to do with the song. They're basically headcannons lmao. My Blake Jennings is showing

No instrumental chnt except Rhumba sorry

i started this in June enjoy

EIAL

6up 5oh copout: its low hanging fruit to say you hate cops, and I'm taking it. You hate cops.

Skeleton Appreciation whatever the fuck: Covid RUINED you

Front Street: you like Heathers

Aikido!: how's that obsessiveness and inability to let go going?

White Knuckle Jerk: you also like nu metal for the same reason. (Its incredibly horny)

Cover This Song: same as Aikido but only with your exes omg do not text them they are assholes

Thermodynamic Lawyer: PLEASE take time to calm down when you get overstimulated I promise if you don't do anything abt it you will have such a terrible mental breakdown

Red Moon: YOU LISTEN TO MALE MANIPULATOR MUSIC STOP TRYING TO HIDE IT YOU CANT BE IN THE RADIOHEAD CLOSET FOREVER

Lysergide daydream: I honestly do not like this song at all so you get a pass (don't kill me)

The First Step: you're usually quiet but you know how to SCREAM.

Jimmy Mushroom: you're usually quiet but- I'm just kidding. You're always quiet

Chemical Overreaction: you're usually quiet but if- I'm just kidding. You are never quiet

Everything is a lot/dte: insomnia. I dont know why,but insomnia

Self-ish

self/ish: closet theatre kid

2012: fast talker to a not comprehendible level

Cotard Solution: turn off the v-sauce it is 2 am

Mr. Capgras: turn off the 🌽 it is 2 am

The Song With Five Names: you have incredible taste. You can't describe that taste, but hey, its incredible

Hand me my shovel: you were the only talented kid in your elementary music class

Dr. Sunshine is Dead: you love the smell of cigarettes

TNA

Suburbia overture: BPD BPD BPD BPD BPD BPD BPD BPD BPD BPD

222: your English teacher loves you (you're so goddamn gay)

Laplace's Angel: your English teacher hates you. How do I know? Because you can't pronounce anything (its la-plass-es not la-place-is)

i/me/myself: you have to beat off the fake fan allegations with a stick everyday

Wbtta: hey queen. How are those hyperfixations going

Outliars and hyppocrates: you spell the title wrong every. damn. time.

bbw: same as 2012 but holy shit triple it.

Marsha, thankk you: dyslexia and ADHD

Love, me normally: I get it. I'm not even gonna expose you. You already have it bad enough

Momento Mori: you are just SO quirky! (knives whisper things to you when you hold them)

Icimi

Tomcat Disposables: you'd shove photos of your pets in your friends faces even if they were dangling off a bridge

Becoming the last names: you either have wonderful parents in a happy relationship or your parents have been divorced for years and you will never relate to this song

Cicada Days: stop using self deprecating humor around the wrong people PLEASE

Euthanasia: this song is a masterpiece I have nothing to say about you.

Falling Up: WONDERFUL TASTE. AMAZING CHOICE. NO RECOLLECTION OF YOUR CHILDHOOD.

That's enough: you love Alex g you just don't know it yet

Um its kind of a lot: you either already love Scott pilgrim or it will happen. Its a canon event

Half decade hangover: omg twinn!! I have an addictive personality, too!

(I feel like this is a good time to say don't take these too seriously)

You liked this: ...what?

The main character: you can't relate to the song, you hate yourself

Sdrr: IF I SEE ONE MORE PERSON TAKING THIS SONG SUPER SERIOUSLY IM GONNA LOSE MY SHIT YDHZJABXV

Bfb: ur just a silly lil guy

Willard!: you're a therian. There is no human explanation to this.

white noise: you love pink floyd you just don't know it yet

Atkf: HOW TF DID I FORGET THIS ONE anyways you get bad habits (nail biting, staying up too late. Etc)

CHNT

Yes to err: you are still waiting for chnt season 2 BC you want to see what happens with Adam

Your body, my temple: I have a strong feeling you have a tummy ache right now

Venetian Blind Man: you love nobody sexually you just don't know it yet (this is a very ace choice idk why)

Rhumba of Death: you LOVE Halloween

When Somebody Needs You: Tyler the Creator is probably your favorite rapper

Live

Trww

Self/ish: You can't sleep if your room has the SLIGHTEST amount of light in it

10-4 6-up: unlike the original, you don't just hate cops, you hate anybody who can tell you what to do (your teachers are probably just trying to do their job. please)

Cotards Solution: you can't sleep without background noise

Dr Sunshine Lives!: You never get sick physically (mentally on the other hand...)

Where do you get off: omg the horniest of the horny. Gerard Way on stage levels of horny. Nine Inch Nails levels of horny. (Or you really like Umbrella Academy idk why)

Aikido: you can't relate to it. You hate everybody

Take a break grab some water this is getting long

Thermodynamic Lawyer: you have gotten kicked out of restaurants because of how loud you are

Front Street: WE GET IT. IT'S BETTER THAN THE ORIGINAL.

Wasting away again: I am so sorry holy shit

Hand me my (x), I'm (y): you suck at algebra

The First Step: you wish you could do the AUGHHHHHHHH

2012: severe social anxiety

Mr capgras: literally the opposite of 2012 (live)

Chemical Overreaction: you know so many random fun facts

Fibrodysplasia: I'm not even gonna talk about your mental issues because I will be banned from this app (which is pretty much impossible)

Icid

Cicada Days: you also get a pass fuck I'm so sorry

The main character okay you ACTUALLY can relate to it

Icimi: OMG I LOVE YOU

atkf: you cry every day even if you aren't sad

Becoming the last names: please don't become a Disney adult

Vampire ref: LISTEN TO MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE I KNOW YOU'VE BEEN PUTTING IT OFF AND IK YOU LOVE HOT VAMPIRE MUSIC

Half decade hangover: oh my god talk to somebody it'll be okay I'm so sorry

Tsw5n: you love the way he says "what the fuck"

Euthanasia: once again, ANOTHER PASS. IM SO SORRY I HOPE YOU'RE OKAY

Jimmy Mushrooms: You. Me. Marriage. Now.

Laplaces Angel: you listen to LitWTC

i/me/myself: you were trying to separate yourself from the normal i/me/myself fans

The first step: idk why but you REALLY like lemonade

skeleton appreciation day: you can NOT play any instrument

tomcat disposables: you love concept albums

White noise: unlike cotards, you need to sleep in SILENCE

Love me normally: arctic monkeys. that's all I have to say. idk what about them but, yeah

misanthrapologist: GAY QUEER LGBT HOMOSEXUAL FRUITY ZESTY ROMANTICALLY ATTRACTED TO PEOPLE OF THE SAME GENDER

Falling up: wonderful taste once again please don't become a Disney adult

thats enough let's get you home: you say "YIPPIE!!" a lot

And if I did: god made you shy because he knew if you weren't you would be unstoppable

#If this flops istg #wee woo #wwattw #wwatt #music #will wood #will wood and the tapeworms #william woodiam #the normal album #will wood reference #will wood music #self ish #everything is a lot #icimi

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spncvr · 6 months ago

Text

scott street | remus lupin

summary: You return to your childhood home. Remus, your past love, unexpectedly returns. (based on the song scott street if that wasn’t obvious)

pairing: rockstar!remus lupin x fem!reader (3rd person oops sorry)

warnings: is this.... angst?? idk but hurt/comfort!! no use of y/n bc i cannot write that and not die a little, and my terrible english i'm sure i mixed all the tenses up here guys sorry im tryinggg,, this is lowk cheesy as hell i feel like... LMAO

a/n: i was sick so i didn't go to school tdy but i wrote this banger oneshot (its 2,4k words can u belive?? longest thing ive ever written in english)

masterlist

Walking Scott Street, feeling like a stranger

With an open heart, open container

THE SUN SUNK behind the many leaves which hung lazily on the branches. Through the old sheer curtains, the breeze blows faint whispers. The room is tinged with a familiar feeling; as if the concrete used that constructed this house is laced with memories from the past. The memories all flooded back like tides in a vast ocean, rolling back and forth as they brought back recollections of days gone by.

This was where she had grown up. The small backyard, the one with grass that had used to touch her ankles, was where she had first learned how to do a cartwheel. The bed, unchanged since she had left, felt almost ancient. She remembered the time she had faked a headache to skip school and had spent the whole day in it; back then the bed had felt like the only place she had wanted to live in.

This was where she fell in love. So much in love, that she could not seem to pinpoint the exact moment she had ever fallen out of it. Maybe she never did. But it didn’t matter. Not anymore, at least.

The room’s walls are bare, and the old, washed-out wall once covered with posters of her favourite rock bands, no longer stands amongst the antique wallpaper. But his pictures were there. Their pictures. It seemed as though they were taunting her as it was propped up on the small table beside her bed. She picked one of them up, one that had stood out to her the most, and gazed at it.

She grew up without wealth. That was clear from the photo, where her top was much too big for her. Maybe it was her father’s; she can’t remember. But that hadn’t mattered to him. He had his arms around her shoulders and a smile on his lips akin to those she’d seen of him on posters and TV screens. She missed when he’d shown it just for her to see.

I’ve got a stack of mail and a tall can.It’s a shower beer, it’s a payment plan.

She tries to remember the moment or event that had taken place where they had taken the picture. And she almost forgets. It caused her to quickly put the picture back down, and a loud thud resonated between the calm sounds of home.

How could she forget? She felt like she was losing too much of herself. The part of herself that had lived here, one that had loved so freely and so openly, was slipping away so incredibly quickly—and suddenly she understood why her mother had cried when she chose a university so far off. She had almost forgotten a part of herself—a version of herself, that she seemed to have missed the most.

She sits down on the edge of the bed, still close to the picture she had put back down, only to look at it again, this time from afar.

Of course, she remembers this moment. It had been her birthday, and he had taunted her mercilessly, telling her how she was just as old and frail as he was since she had always made fun of him for having his birthday at the start of the year and hers so close to the end. This may have contributed to the small roll of her eyes in the photo, but she was unable to control the grin that had painted itself on her lips. She can’t remember the last time she’d been so happy. Joking about being so incredibly old while being so young. She’d have given everything to be seventeen again if it meant being seventeen with him.

Behind the picture, she had been staring at, was another one. And this time, she didn’t forget because, try as she might, she couldn’t.

She can’t seem to let go of the memory of the first time he kissed her, after a gig, a small one that he held with his mates at a pub not that far from here. She remembers how his skin was alight with adrenaline, and his gaze piercing. She couldn’t forget the moment when he told her that she had always been the one he loved not long after the picture, somewhere outside the pub, where the crisp chilly November breeze did not win against his palm that rested against her cheek.

Not long after, when he had brought her back to his, when he had kissed her silly. When she had realized that she really loved him too, and when the realization had hit her so hard, she had to loop her arms around his neck to keep herself upright, when there was only quiet in the house and all that could be heard was her gentle laughter and his sweet nothings, he had whispered in her ear so quietly, almost as if it were a secret, I would have been content to love you from a distance.

There, they were eighteen, fresh out of school and without the slightest idea where they’d go next. She had occasionally pondered what would have happened if they had more time, if they hadn’t both been so foolish, or, if they had both recognized how much it was they felt for one another sooner. But doing so would have made the parting even more painful than it already was. That was something she didn’t like to imagine.

She sighs and leaves the room. She needed to breathe.

Do you feel ashamed, When you hear my name?

ADMITTEDLY, REMUS DIDN'T think he’d ever come back. To Wales, yes, of course, it was his country (now more than ever). But not to this house. Not to her house. He couldn’t ever think straight, not when he knew that she was out there somewhere forgetting every minute detail about their past, and not when the love she’d once felt for him had long gone. But here he stands.

He’s overthinking this. She probably isn’t even home.

She’s always told him when they were young that she wanted to leave.

One day, she had whispered to him in the darkness, when they were six, her favourite stuffed animal tightly tucked between her arms, one day, we’ll be far away. Remus can’t remember whatever caused her to tell him this at such a young age, with such strong conviction. He thinks it was probably something silly—a classmate’s admonition that some activities were simply reserved for boys. Or maybe it was because her parents had refused to let her get ice cream after she’d finished all of her green vegetables (all that suffering for nothing, really). But the mindset had continued to stick in her mind; an ember of determination that refused to fade away.

One day, she says again, when she’s thirteen because her teacher had failed her in her first ever physics exam, one day this won’t matter. I’ll go. I’ll leave. She had said it so firmly and so surely that it scares him sometimes. Because, really, they’ve never been anywhere but here—so sometimes, he asks his mirror, pretending that she’s staring back at him: What if it’s just the same? What if it’s just as bad?

One day, she says again, when she’s seventeen because she has been looking at universities far off and away from Wales. He’d watch her as she’d stare at the campus pictures on the brochures their school had offered and study the student’s bright wide smiles, and sometimes, he wondered if she ever pictures herself in those hallways, with a group of new friends—she’d be the smart one, the witty one. Sometimes, Remus wondered if she ever pictured him with her as she told him with the biggest smile on her face: One day, I’ll be there. Anytime soon.

She’s never liked it here. That much was always clear to Remus. Her books were the sole bright spot in her otherwise (as she put it) bleak existence. Always arranged in a way that only she could fully understand within the small bookshelf she had bought for herself with her first paycheck when she was saving up for Uni. Often, he wondered if she had brought them with her when she had left or whether she had left them here. No longer feeling the drag of her fingertips against its words. Abandoned by its only reader.

And for a while, he had thought that he’d given her another reason to love the place they’d always called home. But he left her. So why, then, would she ever choose to stay? Books could only last for so long.

Just knock, he curses to himself. Say hello to her parents. Tell them that you wanted to see how they were doing.

And just when he’s about to finally get it over with, the door opens.

And she’s there.

She looks different. Hair cut short and brushed neatly. Her clothes fit her nicely. It feels kind of jarring. He doesn’t really know what to expect. He’d been half-expecting to see the girl who had her hair always tied up in a ponytail that didn’t do much, with the amount of hair that was always falling out of it or the girl who wore oversized band shirts that belonged to her father, along with the sneakers she’d been using ever since her feet had stopped growing—the girl who was so full of life it felt nearly impossible not to love her. It was silly, really. Of course, she’d changed. It’s been four years.

“Remus?” she asks, her eyebrows furrowing, “What’re you doing here?”

He opens his mouth and closes it again. What was he doing here?

“I’m—” he starts but pauses for a while to come up with an answer, “I didn’t know you still lived here.”

“I don’t,” she says, plainly.

“Oh.” he breathes, she’s always been forward, “Well, I’m here for holiday.”

“Yeah . . . yeah me too.”

He rocks on the heels of his foot back and forth, “I just— wanted to know how your parents are doing.”

She purses her lips, “Oh. Well, Dad’s doing alright, I bought him a bunch of LPs—some of them yours, actually. And Mum’s still trying to get used to me being back here. She’s cooked a thousand meals.”

“That’s good to know,” he nods, smiling, because sometimes, she has no idea the effect she has on people. “I’m glad they’re alright.”

“How’ve you been?” she inquires, “Heard you’re not doing too bad in your band thing.”

He laughs softly, “It’s been alright.”

She smiles, for the first time he’s talked to her, and shakes her head softly, “Modest as always. Send the lads my love.”

“I missed you,” he tells her. And it spills from his tongue so quickly, before he could even think about it. She needed to know, somehow, that he couldn’t shake her off his mind. He played for her, wrote for her and of her. And sometimes, when he woke up in the middle of the night he swears he could feel her shadow brush his hand, he hoped and prayed to whatever God that was making him feel so incredibly homesick, that she’d been listening to the songs he’d written.

He could only hope that she’d understand the undertone of his words.

She looks at him with this look that seems to pierce through time, reaching back into the past, unwanting to let go. Then, there was this beat of silence; one long enough for him to hear everything that had been left unsaid.

She looks at him, her honey-laced lips slightly parted. “Do you want to come in?” She sounds hesitant as she steps aside, letting him through.

He nods as he follows her in.

The house felt achingly familiar, yet everything felt and seemed different. The walls were the same colour, and the couch that had always looked somewhat old still stood in the exact same place it had four years ago, with new cushions adorning it. The air felt thicker. She always had that effect on him, he supposes.

“Tea?” she offers, a smile playing on her lips, as she leads him into the kitchen.

“Always,” he replies, trying to keep his voice steady.

She turns her back to him to make tea and he feels like he’s missing her all over again. He’s watching her move, taking the tea kettle and suddenly he’s sixteen again, when he’d brought James, Sirius and Pete here because they’d had run into trouble with the police—well, admittedly, it was just James and Sirius, but the four boys had never failed to stick together—and the first thing she’d asked them when she saw all four of them at her doorstep late at night is if they’d like some tea.

“How long are you staying?” she asks, back still turned. “A few weeks,” he says, “Got a bit of a break before the next tour.”

When she handed him a cup, he noticed how even her arms and the tips of her fingers had changed. She looks good, beautiful.

“So, how’s life been?” she asks, taking a sip.

“Busy,” he replies, “Touring, recording, writing. It’s a lot, but it’s what I love.”

“I’ve been listening to your music,” she admits when he sips her tea. It’s exactly how he likes it. “It’s good, Remus. Really good.”

Remus looks down at his shoes, “Thank you,” then, “I’m sorry.”

She frowns, “What for?” “For leaving,” his voice, barely a whisper, “for everything.”

“Oh, Remus,” she sighs as she puts her cup down on the kitchen counter, “no, you had to go. It was your dream—I mean, look at you. You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you.”

“I’ve missed you,” he says again. Because she had smiled at him the same way she did all those years ago in that pub.

And this time, she says it back.

They spent the rest of the day talking and, at times reminiscing, catching up on their lives, and it felt like no time had passed, like they were the same two kids who had believed in forever. As the sky turned dark, and the light from the lamp in the living room spilt against the floors of her house, she had looked at him—that same look she had always given him five, six years ago before asked him, quietly:

“Will you stay?”

Remus smiles, his heart full, “For as long as you’ll have me.”

Anyway, don’t be a stranger

likes and reblogs r appriciated! <3 also i just learned what a taglist is,, so lmk if u wanna be included in my remus one :D

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olderthannetfic · 6 months ago

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i find it quite odd that there are people who seem to conflate discomfort with harm, to the point of actively hurting others... there is an example of something i experienced below, but its just for illustrative purposes, there are public instances all over at this point, i just feel the need to over-explain and be very clear about the kind of thing that i am referencing. i lost an entire friendship because i asked a person to not bug me about choices i might make in a choice centered video game, and they continued to do so anyway, to the point i had to stop playing the game entirely, because now the only association i ended up with it mentally is being yelled at about how i was "making the wrong choices" because they didn't like a particular ending that played into fictional tropes that have existed for at least, as far as my own recollection, a century before the tabletop game the video game was based on ever even existed.

they continually brought up how i was harming them. and being evil for playing a video game. by myself. and choosing to not speak to them about it. and asking them to not bring it up with me, because i didn't want to go over the discourse. again. because they were uncomfortable. with a possible choice. that i hadn't gotten to. and got spoiled about. because they wouldn't leave me alone about it.

i'm talking 3am message floods that were thousands of words long. all caps. voice messages literally screaming and crying and wailing about how if i chose certain endings, i was an evil abuser. i had to block someone i considered one of my closest friends for basically ruining my life for several months because they just wouldn't stop. i asked them to. i begged them to stop. i suggested they do ANYTHING else. it didn't work. this is a person who was NEARING 30 at the time, and yet they couldn't see past the fact that the video game wasn't real, and had no actual bearing on real life.

(i don't think i need to name the video game or the character, its immaterial to the situation. it could be anything.)

i don't understand why. why this? why? why did they so heavily identify with a fictional character that they couldn't see past the fact that the character wasn't real and decide to project any possibility that i wouldn't make what they considered the "correct" choice, as me harming them?

Oof. One hopes they eventually got the professional help they need.

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teaboot · 8 months ago

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Hi! (just a personal ask. Sorry if it's not okay to ask for advice out of nowhere but I wanted to see an outer perspective and didn't wanna ask my friends. No pressure to answer of course but I would love to hear your thoughts!)

Is it normal for me to feel overwhelmed about something I want? I am just starting med school and it's a lot but I am fighting. And in my culture, parents buy their daughters their like things?? (like towels and bed sheets and a fridge. Anything they can buy except the apartment basically) for marriage from a young age. But my mom just started recently. And when she first bought me something. The idea of getting married & being a doctor (both things I want) felt like too much I teared up. My mom said I was being spoilers I guess?? Like I was ruining a good moment? Of course it is not that serious since I wasn't outright crying, and I just laughed afterwards as I felt silly lol ,but It got me thinking if I was being that dramatic.

This honestly felt like the moment in the movie where the mom hugs her daughter and says something like "oh how much you've grown" . Her retort felt like it was out of the script.

If you find time to answer, please be extremely blunt. Because I know for a fact I have a tendency to exaggerate things.

You are not overreacting. You are not exagerrating things. And I'm going to tell you this, because I experience this, the tendency to downplay your own feelings and recollections of events very often comes from having other people do it to you first. People tell you your feelings are wrong, or stupid, or irrational, and you learn to listen to them instead of yourself.

It makes complete sense that coming up on a major cultural milestone would make you feel excited, or scared, or overwhelmed. It sounds like you came upon the first step of a very big change and the reality of it all hit you at once, which sounds completely normal and expected!

Fuck, *I* used to get that about moving houses, and YOU'RE expecting shit like marriage? Holy fuck! I'd be a complete mess! The fact that you're level-headed enough to ask questions and process your feelings and talk things through is impressive, because I think I'd be losing my mind.

Personal story, but when I turned 17, my mom asked me if I wanted to go to a restaurant to celebrate. When I told her that it sounded nice, but I'd rather have dinner at home with the family, she told me I was a selfish narcissist, and that I was so busy thinking of myself that I didn't consider that other people might have been excited to go out.

At the time, I thought she'd been harsh but ultimately correct.

Now, I see that she had decided what kind of perfect evening she had wanted, and had expected me to play the part in the movie she had written herself. It had never been about what I wanted at all- it had been about her personal desires and expectations.

And it's normal to feel frustrated about things that don't go the way we want or expect, but lashing out at others is not an appropriate way to handle those emotions.

The way we feel cannot be controlled like a machine. The way we feel is usually not a problem. The problem is what we do, and the choices we make based on those feelings.

Children throw tantrums and sat mean things because they haven't learned better yet. They don't have the practice or experience. Adults like your mother and mine should have that on lock, but often don't, especially if culture or tradition or social expectations tell them their actions are justified.

If I had to take take guess, I'd say it sounds like your mom gave you this gift with an idea in mind of how she wanted you to react. She probably wanted you to be grateful and praising and sweet, so she could fulfill the role she envisioned for herself, and when you deviated from that picture, she was disappointed. From that perspective, it would seem that she felt slighted, and that she was owed your gratitude, and you were at fault for withholding it.

This perspective makes sense, in an emotionally immature sort of way, but would completely overlook your feelings, which are just as important.

Your exact situation is not one I've been in before, but if I'm correct in my assumptions (which I may not be) then I'd suggest keeping an eye out for other instances of your perspective and feelings being minimized.

Are you often told you are behaving irrationally? That you're over-emotional? That you're self-centered or greedy or entitled? Are you told that you don't remember things or do things as you're told? That you see problems where there aren't any? That you male trouble where there is none? That certain conversations aren't worth having, or that "you're always like this"?

It sounds like you know that something is off. I'd encourage you to keep asking questions and follow your instincts. At the end of the day, your life is your own, no matter where it came from.

#Teaboot advice #Good luck

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all-about-kyu · 1 year ago

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𝕽𝖊𝖉 𝕮𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝕭𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝕻𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 (𝖒𝖞 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖘)

Summary: Being in a polyamorous relationship can take a toll on a person; Jongho just happened to be the one to uncork the bottle. Pairing: Seonghwa x San x fem!reader x Yeosang x Jongho Tropes: hybrid au, poly au, established relationship au Genre: fluff, angst, suggestive Rating: PG 13 Warnings: language, anxiety, stress, mentions of unhealthy self-care habits, reader described as smaller than all members and has blue eyes (bunny quality), minor injury, mentions of sex, kissing Word Count: 6,164 Note: your favorite Thunder is back! <3 thank you to @mejuii and @downtoamagicalland for beta reading as always <3

Listen to: Put It Straight by (G)-Idle ♡ As I Am (feat. Khalid) by Justin Bieber ♡ I GUESS I’M IN LOVE by Clinton Kane

Series Masterlist

You’ve been holed up in your workspace almost all day. You have been for a few days now. The only times you ever emerge are to shower and get some form of nourishment in your body. The influx of orders you had for your shop came out of nowhere, and you’re struggling to keep up with what needs to be done. All three of your boyfriends are worried about you, to say the least. San hasn’t been around much due to a merger he’s been working on, and Yeosang has been running around like a chicken with his head cut off, trying to get everything arranged for a new project that could make or break a lot of things for him. Seonghwa has been around, though. Just yesterday, he decided to stay home from the shop and sketch while you worked on crafting a rather detailed necklace.

You’re so lost in what you’re creating that you hardly register the knock on your door. So when it pops open, you drop your half-done chain making the individual links scatter across the desk. Despite the urge to break down right then and there, you take a deep breath and recollect yourself. When you look up, you’re met with a very concerned-looking purple dragon.

“Treasure, you’ve been in here all day… have you eaten anything?” San asks with a worried tone.

“I’m fine.” You give him a tight-lipped smile, “I need to finish this bracelet by tomorrow and get it shipped out.”

San steps closer and squats down beside you. Even with him squatting, he’s barely below your eye level. It only serves to remind you how much smaller you are than them. Your silver-eyed boyfriend reaches to take your hands in his. At first, he doesn’t think anything of the tension rings along your fingers. He knows it helps you from cramping up too quickly. Then he takes in the small pinches and cuts on your fingertips and palms.

“Treasure, you should take a break. I’m worried about you. We all are.” He tries to reason with you.

“I’ll come to eat after this project is done, promise.” You offer, taking your hand to run over some of his scales along his cheekbone.

“You better have eaten a well-balanced meal and drank at least three glasses of water by the time I get back from my meeting,” He bluntly reminds you.

“I’ll do my best to do that.” You chuckle while playfully saluting him.

He stands back up to his full height, “I love you, and I hate to see you so overworked.” He sighs, placing a kiss against the base of one of your bunny ears.

“I love you too. I promise I’ll leave this room at some point.”

Some point becomes hours later when Seonghwa forces you out of the room even though the bracelet is still incomplete. San walks back in the door, Yeosang beside him, as you’re nibbling on a veggie wrap. Seonghwa is sitting beside you eating as well to make you feel less alone in your activity. San has a small bit of smoke curling out of his lip that he tries to stop you from seeing. It doesn’t work, though. Yeosang whispers something that seems to soothe the purple dragon before they both walk over to you.

“How’s your project coming?” Yeosang asks innocently.

“Still not done….” You sigh, bunny ears falling back against your hair, “It was supposed to be done today so I could ship it out tomorrow….”

“And it’s okay that you didn’t finish it today.” Seonghwa offers, “You own your own business, and sometimes you need to know your limits on what can be done.”

“But-”

“No buts,” San adds, “you did what you could today. That’s all that matters.”

You nod silently and take another small bite out of your wrap before placing it down on the plate again. When you get stressed like this, you hardly want to eat anything. You know it’s an unhealthy habit, but it’s just how you function. Despite your quiet state, your three boyfriends seem to easily flow through conversation. Some sort of ugly jealousy curls through your stomach. The way they seem to fit together easily without any seams makes you feel almost out of place in a way. You’re not willing to address that with your current state of mind, though.

“Hops,” Yeosang calls quietly; you look up at him, “You didn’t hear me, did you?” He chuckles sweetly, “Who do you want to crash with tonight?”

You nibble at your lower lip, “I think I’ll stay in my nest tonight.”

“Do you want one or more of us to–” You cut Seonghwa off before he can finish his question.

“No!” You blurt out, “I want to sketch out some more projects, and I’d hate to keep you up.”

“You know that won’t bother us, treasure.” San reminds you, “I’d much rather you get some good rest than workshop more projects.”

“I’ll be fine, San, I promise.” You stand up abruptly, ignoring the (barely) half-eaten wrap. “Good night boys. Love you!”

You bolt to the room your nest and work area are in. The moment you firmly shut the door, you sit down at your desk and hunch over the same bracelet you’ve been working on all day.

Even after slaving over projects for the next two days, it feels like you’ve made no progress. You’re pacing back and forth in your studio and nest space, hoping that inspiration strikes you to at least finish one project. A soft knock sounds on your door again. This time Yeosang is the one who pops his head through the doorway. You’re worrying on the edge of your ear and continue pacing even though you feel your boyfriend’s worried eyes on you.

“Hops,” His low voice sounds through the space, “Sannie and Hwa already headed out for the day. They thought you were still sleeping when they were leaving.” He explains.

“I’ve been up for a while.” You respond flatly, “I need to get this shit done.”

Yeosang is slightly taken aback. You’ve never been one to curse. So to hear you say such a word was not what he was expecting to come from your mouth. He steps closer and grabs you gently to stop you from pacing anymore. You look up at him and see the worry swirling in his green eyes. He pulls you into a hug. You’ve come to learn that he’s not very physically affectionate outside your heat. So the fact that he has you wrapped in a hug, your face buried in his chest, means a lot. His minty scent invades your senses, giving you a momentary feeling of peace. That lingering panic and fear creeps back into you when he pulls away.

“Take a break from your projects, Hops.” He reminds you, “Stepping away from a project can do wonders sometimes.”

You nod, “I will.”

It may be a half-truth, but you don’t want to worry him if you don’t need to. He places a soft kiss against the top of your head and takes another step back.

“I have to go meet a client. Unfortunately, all three of us are out of the house for the rest of the day.” He sighs, “I should be back around dinner time. San said he has a business dinner tonight, and Seonghwa is closing the shop today since Yun is off.”

“I’m a big bunny,” You try to joke, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know, little one,” He smiles softly, “Just giving you the rundown for the day. I’ll see you at dinner, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod, your snow-white ears twitching slightly when he gently scratches the base of them.

Yeosang is out the door, and a few moments later, you hear the front door of the penthouse close too. You debate your options for a few moments before deciding to get a drink before returning to work. You aren’t fully sure who’s home right now. At least you know Yunho is home. You’re about ninety percent sure Mingi is at his university lecturing right now. It’s likely that Wooyoung is at his dance studio, and you haven’t seen Hongjoong in about three days. When you get to the kitchen, you find that Jongho is home too. He’s sitting at the small breakfast bar sipping on a mug of tea. You shuffle behind him, being sure not to knock into his deep blue tail. You reach up into the cabinet to get a glass when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You nearly jump out of your skin and end up dropping the glass, causing it to shatter on the counter. Immediately, Yunho moves to make sure you’re okay and explains he wasn’t trying to scare you. Your fight-or-flight instincts kick in, and you’re already down the hall and back in your nest. The first thing you can think to do is grab the duffle bag and start stuffing clothing into it. Tears are threatening to fall from your eyes, but you hold them back for now. You can smell the two men that are home. They’re still down the hallway. However, your senses are out of sorts due to your panicked state.

Again, a knocking sounds on the door frame. You whip your head around, and your ears twitch around, trying to find one sound to focus on. Your nose twitches even more as you take in the dark blue dragon standing in the doorway. Jongho steps into the space when you don’t speak, knowing you need someone to calm you down. He would have never breached your space without your permission had you been more stable mentally.

“Where are you off to?” He asks gently.

That’s when your tears burst through fully. You start sobbing and find yourself face-first in Jongho’s sweater before you can stop yourself. He awkwardly wraps his arms around you and tries to soothe you. The room is only filled with sniffles and loud sobs as you stand there in the golden-eyed dragon’s arms. You’re completely unaware of how long you cry in his arms, but when you finally slow to a sniffle, you pull your face away from his sweater. There’s a large wet spot from the amount of crying you just did. There’s a bit of snot, too, which you cringe at and immediately try to wipe off with your own sweater. You can feel his strong chest beneath the fluffy material, but your mental state is hardly focused on the dragon’s physique. Your head is pounding from crying, which doesn’t help the situation at all. Jongho still has his arms wrapped around you, securing you in your spot.

“You need to talk about anything?” He offers quietly.

“Are you sure you want to hear all of that?” You chuckle, trying to downplay your emotions.

“You need it. We both know that.” He sighs, not letting you divert anything.

Suddenly you’re very aware of his arms wrapped around you and how comforting it feels. You find yourself nodding at him.

“Do you want to go to a neutral space, or are you comfortable right here?” He searches your pale blue eyes for any discomfort as he asks.

You appreciate how respectful of your boundaries he’s being. You know you need this, and he does too. Damn him and his phenomenal therapist skills.

“We can stay here…” You bite your lip, debating whether or not you want to ask him a specific question or not. You decide to throw caution to the wind and ask. “Do- do you um… could we-”

“What’s up Hops?”

“Well… I’m kind of all over the place, and… do you care if we cuddle while I vent?”

“Would that make you feel more comfortable?” he asked again.

You nod, “It would…”

“In your nest?”

“Yeah… if that’s okay.”

“Lead the way.”

Jongho releases you from his hold and allows you to get comfortable in bed where your nest is before he approaches it. You shift a little bit allowing Jongho to climb in beside you. The dragon is slightly stiff as he gets semi-comfortable. You snuggle close to him, which makes him melt beneath you. He wraps an arm around you and sighs with a small smile on his face.

“What’s on that mind of yours, Hops?” He asks once you’re both comfortable.

“A lot of things… where should I start?”

“Wherever you want to.” He offers, small vines wrapping around his fingers as you get more comfortable.

“I feel like an outsider.” You admit, “And like a failure…”

“What makes you say that? You have your fluffle, and you’re part of the Thunder now. You have a successful business making jewelry.”

“I haven’t been able to finish a single project for days now, and I feel horrible. These people are waiting for me to finish these pieces for them and-” You start crying again.

“Take your time.” He reminds you, “Do you wanna hear my two cents on this, or do you want to continue what you were saying.”

“You can talk.” You sniffle, burying your face against his sweater.

He wraps his arm around you tighter. The small vines tickle against your jaw lightly as his fingers hold your shoulder. You find yourself sinking further into his touch subconsciously.

“Here’s what I think.” He starts, “Everyone has their own threshold. When you reach that threshold, you can’t do it anymore. You need a break. Your limit is different from mine and different from the others in the Thunder. You need to give yourself breaks, Hops.”

“I know, but-”

“No buts, bunny.”

“But, Jongho…” You pout, “You’re super successful in your career, San owns a whole monopoly, Seonghwa and Yunho own a tattoo shop-”

“And you have a very successful jewelry business.” He stops you mid-sentence, “Just cause we have more income doesn’t mean that you’re unsuccessful.”

You nod and nibble at your lip. You feel a thumb against your lip, gently pulling it from between your teeth. When you look up at Jongho, you see him giving you a gentle, borderline endearing look. It steals your breath away for a moment. Your ears go lax as you maintain eye contact with the navy dragon. You take note of how his navy scales frame his face perfectly and how they contrast against his bright red hair. Suddenly, you snap back to reality and shake your head slightly to ground yourself.

“I know that but still…”

“Still what?” He prods lightly.

“You guys seem actually to get work done, and I’m still fighting with this same necklace that I’ve been working on all week. I have a damn sketch of the thing, and I can’t even do it.” You groan.

“What’s on paper doesn’t always convey in practice. Have you tried looking at it or approaching it a new way?” He asks, his thumb gently caressing your arm as he speaks.

“... No…” You admit, gaze dropping down to your fingers, “I’ve been very set on the style, and my customer really likes the design I sketched…”

“And it’s your business.” He reminds you, “If you need to rework things because it’s impossible to do in practice, they need to understand that or lose their deposit on the art.”

You nod silently. Jongho notices you remain quiet after providing his two cents on your situation. There’s far more to your issue, and he knows it. He moves his navy blue tail to be draped over his thigh and, by proxy, wrap around yours. The tip of it rests against your lower back. And while you’re used to dragon tails resting against you, Jongho’s tail feels almost foreign to you but absolutely not unwelcomed.

“I know that’s not all, bun.” He sighs, letting the arm wrapped around you hold you just a bit tighter, “What else is going through that mind of yours?”

You look up at him and see his golden eyes fixated on you, “I don’t think you want to hear about my relationship right now.”

“I want you to feel better.” He assures, “Tell me what’s going on.”

You find yourself curling closer to the dragon and tucking your head just below his chin. You feel a few scales along his jaw, but it’s nothing that bothers you. After all, you live here with them almost all the time now; you’re no stranger to scales touching you. Your ears are pushed back and lying flat against your hair overtop Jongho’s arm. You feel him relax further after his initial tensing.

“Well… about a week ago, we were, um…” You didn’t know how to phrase it to him.

“You were having sex, okay. What went wrong to make you feel so uncomfortable and try to run away today?”

“How did you know I was gonna say that?” You try to deflect.

Jongho chuckles airily, “You're going to tell me I’m wrong?” You don’t answer, “So, what happened that got you to this point.”

You sigh and debate whether you want to let it all out or tell him just to forget about it. It wasn’t that big a deal, right? Jealously happens in relationships. Jealousy looks different in yours because instead of two people, there are five.

“Smells like burnt cookies.” Jongho points out, “Just say it before you end up smelling like a burnt kitchen rather than overbaked cookies.” He teases lightly.

“I feel like an outsider in my own relationship.”

“Okay, why do you feel like that? You know San, Seonghwa, and Yeosang would burn the world to the ground if you asked them.”

You feel the tears well up in your eyes again. One escapes and lands on Jongho’s barely damp sweater. Though you know, Jongho can’t see your eyes with your face tucked under his chin. He does seem to know you’re having an emotional hurricane internally. You feel his tail press a bit harder against your body as if to mock some weighted blanket to help you relax.

“They just seem so happy together. I felt like after that very awkward sex that I was just a hookup again.”

“That bad?” He sighs, “I know you know how the Thunder functioned before San and Seonghwa brought you home. Hell, Yunho, and Mingi are worse than you’re polycule sometimes.” He lightens the air, “Remember, you’re the glue that holds those boys together. Yes, they would casually hook up with each other before you were introduced to us, but the dates, talking about how they feel, regulating their schedules… Hops, that’s all thanks to your influence on this Thunder. It feels like I’ve tried to have interventions more often with them than with my clients. Something about you made it click, though.”

“Jongho?”

“Yeah?”

You don’t know what overtakes you, but you untuck your face from his chest and kiss his cheek. You realize what you’ve done after you see Jongho’s slightly shocked expression. Your nose starts to twitch as panic rises in your throat again. Jongho’s strong hold keeps you in your place, along with his tail still lying across your legs and along your back.

“It’s okay, bun.” He assures, “You just surprised me. If you want to ask something when you’re in the right headspace, you can do so. You’re not in a completely clear or stable mental place right now, though.”

You nod, “Sorry,”

“Nothing to apologize for. Come back here and get comfy again.” He offers, “You rant, and I’ll listen.”

You tuck yourself back against the dark blue dragon and almost feel like you’re at home in his arms. A tug in your heart makes itself known. Of course, it would now, when you’re in the midst of emotional and relational turmoil. Jongho smooths a hand over your hair and ears as you start rambling about everything that’s been bothering you. From missing your fluffle to work to your boyfriends’ dynamic. You feel small amounts of weight press against your hair.

“What’s in my hair?” You ask, “I feel something.”

“I’m weaving flowers in.” He says casually, “Do you want me to take them out?”

“N-no,” You feel the heat of a blush rush to your face, “Tell me about the flowers.”

“There’s a few red carnations, that’s all. Some are full blooms, others are half-blooms. They look nice against your hair. I like the contrast from how pure white your ears are too.”

You pull your body to be sitting up. Jongho is still lying down, and his eyebrows scrunch together in confusion.

“You can put them and more flowers in my hair all you want. I’m giving you more space to work with while I talk.” You explain, “I like that you’re playing with my hair.”

A smile graces his lips, and you barely see his fangs peek out. He conjures a small bouquet of little dainty pink and white flowers. One moment there was nothing there, and the next, the flowers were in his hand.

“So, as I was saying, I love my boyfriends, but it’s hard not to feel excluded when they know each other like their favorite things in the world. It really hurt me when I saw San and Yeosang cuddling while Seonghwa tossed the wet wipes at me. I know I’m newest to whatever dynamics were happening here before, but…” You interrupt yourself with a sigh, “I’m still their girlfriend, and it doesn’t feel like it sometimes.”

Jongho accidentally tugs at your hair while braiding a flower into it, making you yelp slightly.

“Sorry,” He quickly apologizes, “I know it hurts to just feel like a side piece in your relationship. You also need to communicate how you’re feeling, though. I know, ironic when you have three emotionally constipated dragon boyfriends, but it’s true.”

“I just don’t want to make them mad at me…”

“If they get mad at you for having normal emotions, then I’ll personally make them each a batch of poison ivy tea when I refill the tea satchels.”

You giggle lightly and feel Jongho move your hair over your shoulder, signifying that he’s done meticulously intertwining each flower with your hair. You turn around and face him. He’s sitting criss-cross in your nest still. His golden eyes practically melt you as he gives you an affectionate look. Those tugs at your heart return, this time accompanied by a tornado of butterflies in your stomach.

“You feel better now?” He asks softly.

You nod, “I needed that a lot more than I realized.”

He opens his arms, “You still look like you need some comforting before you talk to your boys.”

You climb into his lap, slotting your legs around his hips, and feel his strong arms wrap around your waist in a tight hug. You bury your face in the crook of his neck. Your nose fills with his book scent, and it instantly relaxes you. You don’t break away even when you hear the penthouse door open and click shut again. You’re so engulfed in his scent you don’t even know who’s returning to the lair. Jongho’s arms tighten around you even more. Then, you process the sniffles you’re letting out. You’re not even sure if you’re feeling the emotional aftermath of the day or if you’re nervous about the confrontation later, but you’re sniffling back tears again. Your tears slide down Jongho’s neck and along the snake tattoo that looks as if it’s curling around his collarbone. He doesn’t say anything about it. He doesn’t question why you’re crying or make any comment to stop you from feeling what you do. He lets you feel. It’s just what you need right now.

“What’s this?” You hear San snarl.

You tense in Jongho’s hold. Fight or flight instincts beg you to bolt for the door, even if San grabs you in the process. The only thing stopping you is Jongho’s arms holding you in place. Suddenly, Jongho rips a flower out of your hair. You yelp at the sudden movement and then see the navy dragon shaking out a singed red carnation. You know San didn’t mean any harm to you. When he was pissed, he tended to lose complete control of what he did with his magic.

“Hops.” He snarls, “I need to talk to you. Alone. Now.”

He hasn’t called you that since you officially started dating him. Hearing the neutral nickname sounds foreign to your ears in the worst way possible. You’ve never seen him direct his anger at you, either. Your heart rate spikes again, and your nose twitches at the speed of light. Subconsciously you grip onto Jongho, maybe to try to soothe yourself. You don’t want to think too hard about why it was comforting to you.

“Talk to him. It’ll be okay. If not, remember what I told you.” He ends his sentence with a slight chuckle.

You nod and climb out of Jongho’s lap. Your eyes linger on his golden eyes, noticing how his pupils dilate as he looks back at you. While you’d love to think it’s out of affection toward you, you decide to believe it’s simply to help calm you further. Jongho gets out of your nest and dismisses himself from the space. You watch as a vine curls around the door nob and pulls the white wood door shut. The tension is tangible enough as it is, but when the therapist dragon leaves, it becomes almost suffocating. San’s silver eyes are slit so thinly you can hardly see his pupils at all. It’s as if they don’t exist at all.

“I-it wasn’t what it looked like…” You say, trying to ease a bit of the tension.

“Are you sure, Hops?” He practically growls, “It sure looked like you were getting too cozy with someone who isn’t one of your boyfriends. We said you could cuddle with the others if you needed it. That was crossing a line, though.”

Normally seeing your deep purple scaled boyfriend dressed for the office sends you into a mood that you would put in a similar category to your heat. Now, though, it only strikes fear in you. You so desperately wish to crumble under his stare and submit to your prey tendencies. You swallow that urge and hold your head high, remembering Jongho’s words.

I know it hurts to just feel like a side piece in your relationship. You also need to communicate how you’re feeling, though.

“Would you have rather me run away back to my fluffle without a word to any of you?” You bite back, throwing your arm in the direction of your half-packed duffle bag, “You, Seonghwa, and Yeosang have been making me feel like I’m not even part of our relationship anymore. Had Jongho not stopped me, I would’ve been gone for hours by now. Yes, the cuddling could be seen as crossing a line, but he’s the reason I didn’t go running out mere moments after Yeosang left.”

“Treasure…” San starts, trying to step closer to you.

You put your hand up, and it’s as if you put up an invisible block in front of him.

“Let me speak.” You sigh, “You three communicate without words. You’ve been involved with each other in many different ways long before I was brought to the Thunder. After last week’s events… seeing how easily you knew how to take care of Yeosang while you three practically ignored me and let me handle myself hurt. I’m your girlfriend, but the longer I’m here, the more I feel like just a hookup you brought in with your two boyfriends for some extra fun.”

You let out a shaky breath. You don’t want to cry telling him all of that, but you feel your eyes fill with tears. There’s no way you’ll be able to stop them from falling. You sniffle and let your gaze fall down to your feet rather than looking at your boyfriend. He doesn’t move. That invisible block is still fixated in front of him.

As if the timing couldn’t be worse, you smell Seonghwa’s sweet strawberry jam scent enter the home accompanied by Yeosang’s peppermint tea. It’s as if he knows there’s tension, too. You know your scent is burnt, and San’s is far stormier than his typical calm sea breeze scent. Your eldest boyfriend doesn’t even knock. He invites himself and Yeosang into your bedroom and is greeted by your crying figure and San a few steps away with tendrils of smoke escaping the corners of his lips. Yeosang is the first to step closer, placing a kiss on San’s cheek, only solidifying your emotions. Comforting San before stepping closer to you.

“Tell me what’s going on.” Yeosang asks quietly, wrapping his arms around your frame.

You try to break out of his hold, but you’re no match for his strength. Angry tears keep rolling down your cheeks as you stay trapped in his hold.

“Look at me.” Authority rings in his tone.

This time, you look at him.

“Am I that unloveable?” You snap.

“Treasure, please.” San says weakly.

“Yeosang.” You say flatly, “Let me go.”

Your bronze boyfriend backs off. All three of them are clearly concerned about you and trying to figure out why you just asked the question you did. Your nose is still twitching, and tears are still staining your cheeks.

“We need to have a long talk. All four of us.” You huff.

You settle in your nest, wrapping yourself in a throw blanket that smells much more like Jongho than any of your boyfriends. You see the jealousy in San’s eyes as you do so. Yeosang is on your work stool, Seonghwa is sitting in your reading chair, and San is still brooding, leaning against your closed bedroom door. You can’t escape. It’s probably for the best; you need to say this.

“I kinda yelled this at San already, but… you three have been neglecting me.”

You watch as the confusion etches in Seonghwa’s face. He had been spending the most time with you compared to your other two boyfriends. Yeosang’s reaction isn’t as visible, but you know he’s just as confused. San knows, though. He hates that you’re saying it again.

“I feel like a hookup again. You three are so seamless with each other and don’t seem to give me any care. Last week, Seonghwa… you just threw the wet wipes at me while San took care of Yeosang with so much care… that fucking hurt. I almost ran away today. Jongho stopped me.”

“Treasure… we love you so much. I’m sorry I did that. I wasn’t even thinking about it-” Seonghwa tries to explain.

“I know… it doesn’t change that it hurt… still hurts worse than hell. San came home and found me cuddling with Jongho in a way that was a bit compromising. There was nothing inappropriate happening. I promise. And–” You stop yourself.

“What is it, Hops?” Yeosang asks quietly, “We need to know everything.”

“I kissed him.” You admit, “I was on such an emotional rollercoaster, and he made me feel safe and loved… I didn’t think about what I did until after it happened.”

None of them speak. It scares the hell out of you. Your pale blue eyes flit between all three of them. Their expressions are unreadable. Well, San’s isn’t. A fresh curl of smoke escapes his nose as he wills his flames back down his throat.

“Did you like it?” Yeosang asks again.

You hadn’t thought about that. Did you? It was so spur of the moment you didn’t actually think about how it made you feel. Your heart feels like it’s on fire. It aches.

“I did.” You admit.

“What do you want that to mean for us?” Seonghwa adds.

“I know we’re on delicate grounds right now…” You sigh, wrapping the blanket tighter around yourself, “I feel the same pull toward him that I do towards you three.”

“Transparency, right?” San finally speaks, “I’m so fucking jealous, but you’re right… we haven’t been caring for you the way we’ve been caring for each other. We should all make an effort to meet each other where we are. All four of us. And–” he stops himself, “If you want Jongho, we can invite him.”

“Seonghwa? Yeosang?” You ask, ears shifting towards them.

“Honestly…” Yeosang sighs, “I miss being with Jongho. We also knew in this Thunder we have a tendency to share, even with San’s jealous streak.” He pokes fun at his purple boyfriend.

“I’m always happy to do anything that helps our relationship and ultimately you, Treasure. I love all my Thunder, and I love you.”

A smile breaks out on your lips, and tears start streaming again. San is the first to approach you. He wraps his arms around you, tail curling protectively around your waist. You feel both of your other boyfriends join moments later.

“I love you, Treasure.” San whispers against your bunny ear.

“I love you.” You sniffle back.

“We all love you.” Yeosang kisses your other ear.

After a long discussion about what each of you needed from each other, you begin discussing who should approach Jongho about joining. It’s out of the question for San to do so. The last time San and Jongho interacted was when he walked in on you, cuddling with the dark blue dragon. Ultimately, Yeosang is chosen. He’s the closest to him, and they think the same way. Their history together before Yeosang started dating you just adds to why he should be the one to ask. Yeosang is also the newest boyfriend. Having Seonghwa go to the youngest dragon could end badly, given that Seonghwa has been dating you longer than Yeosang has.

You go with Yeosang down the hall toward Jongho’s bedroom. You stay outside the door as Yeosang gets permission to enter the space. Instantly, you hear laughter and feel how light the atmosphere is in the room. You see a few hanging plants through the small crack in the door. You haven’t seen many of their bedrooms in great detail, but seeing greenery in Jongho’s room makes warmth spread in your chest.

“Treasure,”

You’re taken aback when you hear the pet name. It’s not Yeosang’s voice. It’s Jongho’s. You step closer to the door. Popping your head through the door, white ears tall on your head, you see Jongho’s golden eyes giving you that same adoring look he had earlier. Yeosang has a soft, comfortable smile on his lips. His hand is outstretched, and you find yourself curling into his side.

Jongho’s room is exactly how you expected it to be. Plants are everywhere, not so much that it’s crowded, but it adds a comforting and homey touch to the space. He has a desk against the far wall, framed by bookshelves. His bed has a wall of vines behind it with purple flowers randomly throughout them. There’s something about the space that is so shamelessly Jongho.

“Is there something you wanted to ask me, Treasure?” Jongho asks with a soft smirk on his lips.

You nod, and your eyes shift up to your green-eyed boyfriend. He just nods slightly at you and gives you a comforting smile.

“Jongho… would you like to be my boyfriend?” You ask.

Yeosang removes his arm from around you as Jongho steps closer to you. The gold-eyed dragon hybrid takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, making you look up at him. You want so desperately to melt at the touch but you hold your ground somehow. Your ears instantly fall back against your head as your chin tilts up. The flowers are still woven into your hair and tickle against your ears, making them twitch slightly. Jongho takes his other hand to pluck some flowers from your hair.

“Red carnations: admiration, devotion,” he states, twirling it in between his fingers. He shifts his hold on the flowers to show the small white and pink flowers. “Aster: faith, love. Does that answer your question, Treasure?”

“Jongho?” You ask, dazed by his words.

“Yes, Treasure. I’d love to date you.” He smiles a bright, gummy smile, “May I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You practically breathe out.

His lips are on yours a moment later, and you feel an explosion of emotion. The hand that was previously holding the flowers wraps around your waist and pulls you closer to his body. It’s almost as if you’re the only two in the world. When he pulls away, you see his heavily dilated gold eyes. Your hand reaches up to brush against a few scales by his hairline before carding into his hair behind his ear. Before you can get lost in the moment again, Yeosang swoops in and kisses your cheek before leaning over to Jongho and kissing his cheek as well. He wraps his arms around both of you. You turn your head to see your two other boyfriends in the doorway with sweet smiles on their faces. They come into the room and join the hug. Yeah, everything felt better now. They felt like home, and your heart aches out of pure love for your four boyfriends.

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @sanjoongie @jaehunnyy @ericssmile @anyamaris @almondmilkeu @shinestarhwaa @northerngalaxystar-blog

#ateez x reader #cultofdionysusnet #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez angst #seonghwa x reader #san x reader #yeosang x reader #jongho x reader #poly!ateez #dragon!ateez

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jiminjamms · 8 months ago

Text

sex therapy :: 28. perfect timing

chapter tags/warnings: therapist! toji. manipulative! naoya. toji defends you. naoya 100% has anger issues. infidelity/adultery. extremely strong language. corruption. family drama.

word count: 3.8k

notes: hugs to everyone! been a while, and my busy days at work (plus straggling mental health) have not been doing me favors. writing, reading, and interacting with you all have been bringing me joy. i spent extra time on this chapter to make this piece what i hoped it would be. enjoy. likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

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Toji loved working on Sundays.

With his colleagues off, Sundays were the only day in the week when Toji could be the sole person in the therapy office. He appreciated the slowness that came with working on the weekends, allowing him to balance his time for scheduled appointments with unoccupied windows used to strategize and decompress.

He relished in the lull. The tranquility. The peace.

But alas, the serenity was cut short on this particular Sunday, as someone barged through the entrance like a wild boar, causing a rambunctious racket as the front door flung open with immense force.

The doorknob clanged against the wall, and Toji—sitting behind the reception counter—looked up from a patient file on his computer screen.

With both curiosity and annoyance, he peered above his monitor.

The black tips to blond hair. The sharp brown glare. The permanent frown.

Who else could this have been but Naoya Zenin, presenting himself in the flesh?

The incomer’s expression consisted of nothing but antipathy as he bared his teeth at the doorway, his hands balled into fists by his sides. Based on how he glared upon seeing his older cousin, anyone could safely conclude that this man was beyond livid.

Must he pester me on the weekend? Toji thought as he mentally shook his head, clucking his tongue faintly in disapproval. He had not seen Naoya ever since his official departure from the Zenin Corporation and household, which was months ago. From his recollection, the manchild before him had a fickle personality, bursting into immature fits that easily made someone younger (like his son Megumi) seem like the actual adult around.

Given this, Toji legitimately did not understand how you had been putting up with Naoya as your husband.

As for himself, Toji did his best to ignore the new presence, clicking his mouse as he resumed analyzing the file on his screen. He did not wish to spare a moment longer than necessary tending to the human tornado on his way. If Toji had wanted to deal with Naoya in person, he would have confronted him long ago. Rather, he had decided strategically to watch his cousin wreak havoc from afar to avoid interacting with his burdensome family. Everyone in the Zenin household, except for Mai and Maki, was not worth the aggravation that came with mere association.

Now, especially with today’s booked schedule, Toji would not be able to make an exception to soothe Naoya’s upcoming tantrum.

On the other hand, Naoya had no better choice than to drag himself to his older cousin’s doorstep.

Had circumstances been any different, he also could not bother to see Toji again. He hadn't talked to Toji in months. Why would he? After many years of neglect and inferiority, Naoya finally achieved everything he wanted.

Or so he thought.

This was why, to face his estranged relative again—after recently learning that you had been seeing him for weeks—was a grand ego blow to Naoya, who could not accept the possibility that he was losing his reputation’s very foundation to the man he had envied all his life.

Recognizing the indignation that fumed from the current Zenin heir, Toji seized the opportunity to inveigle his cousin and greeted him with a cheer.

“Good morning!” he beamed, raising his hand in salutation. The scar by his lips flexed from his grin. “Do you have an appointment?”

Naoya scowled awfully.

"Great to finally see you again, Toji Zenin."

Immediately, the said man’s smile fell at his cousin's overly casual tone. "Woah, there,” he shot back. “Show some respect, will you? First, my last name is Fushiguro. Do not refer to me as Zenin. Second, calling me by my first name is bad manners. I'm older than you, kid."

Without question, the comment irked the blonde. Of all people in the universe, this was Naoya Zenin in question, a hubristic man who hated humiliation and the need to concede. His demeanor hardened with resentment while he struggled to maintain his composure.

"Fine, Mr. Fushiguro."

Toji quirked another smile.

Theoretically, he had no problem demanding more but decided to be nice by saying, “That’s better.” He locked his computer as he shifted his attention, crossing his arms as his back rested against his chair. “I haven't seen you in a while. Remember the days when you used to work here, too? Good times, hm?" All rhetorical chit-chat and pleasantries and, as expected, there was no response. "Well, I have only a few minutes to spare, after which I have business to attend. So...what brings you to visit?”

Another ironic question, as Toji already knew the answer.

Over the phone, he had spoken with an irate Naoya who demanded to speak to his wife and have her back home. Despite his insufferable treatment toward you, the Zenin CEO could not stand how his apartment remained empty the past few nights, meaning he hadn’t gotten his dick soaked by his lawful spouse like he should be doing.

But then again, Toji thought, he already has a mistress to satisfy himself with.

Meanwhile, Naoya might as well be digging holes into his cousin’s skull from how his glower fizzed with malice. He opened his mouth, only to promptly purse his lips again to choose his reply carefully.

“Did you make her see you?”

Quite a question.

Toji blinked rapidly through an empty stare.

Where did that come from?

“‘See me?’” he had to clarify.

In one smooth motion, Toji stood from his seat, his chair bouncing back slightly when he did. With his arms still folded over his chest, he meandered around the counter area that separated the client and employee zones in the reception area, stopping mere steps away from the younger man.

Then, he repeated, “See me who?”

Naoya did not appear amused in the slightest.

His hazel eyes all but narrowed from vexation. The paroxysm of negative emotions on the blonde’s face made him appear ready to snap. Like a button ready to blast everything around him, he was close to letting his wrath take over. “Did you send my wife your therapist information just so that you could talk to her and figure out how to get revenge on me?”

What an oddly specific accusation.

“Why would I do such a thing?” It was more of a statement than a question, and Toji could see how his nonchalance profoundly irritated the other man. “She found me like how all my other therapy clients find me. But me reaching out to her personally merely to spite you? No. That's only some shit you would think to do. Unlike yourself, I'm not that petty."

Toji was blunt in his response, he knew.

In his defense, he would rather cut to the chase than beat around the bush.

He no longer headed the Zenin conglomerate, but he still had a therapy practice to manage and a family to look after. With his packed schedule, every second mattered and he wasn’t the type to waste his time lingering around and dealing with non-important business matters, such as the grouchy kid with him.

His observations definitely blew a fuse within Naoya, though.

"Excuse me?!" In two sharp steps, he closed the distance between Toji and himself, jabbing a finger into the other's chest. Bold. “You’re fucked, you know that? You’re so damn fucked," he hissed, and the edges of his mouth contorted into a derisive sneer. “You…You’re goddamn obsessed with Y/N, and you don’t even realize that! Give me a fucking break. You only give two hoots about the bitch because she’s my wife, but you don't actually give a shit about the woman herself.”

At that, Toji immediately swatted the hand from his pec.

“Incorrect, I do,” he retorted, his tone firm. “But do you care about her?” and he didn’t need to hear a response for that one, so he went on. “No, you do not. You know what? I found her situation sad because every time your wife talked about you, she told me about how you neglect and can’t satisfy her. This entire time, I was sorry for her precisely because I know the person you are. Fine, you call her your wife. What that means is she's not just a pussy for you to play with. You can’t just pick and choose different parts of her. But where were you when your wife was crying?” He paused briefly, letting his words sink into his silenced cousin’s head. “Where were you, hm? Where were you when she was upset? Anyone with eyes could’ve seen that she’s been having a hard time! But where?” and Toji gave Naoya one pointed glare. “Where…was her husband?”

In the sheets with an older woman.

Of course, that very husband would not admit that aloud, especially since he had yet to realize that his older cousin already knew about his affair with the other’s ex-wife. Instead, Toji saw Naoya twist his lips into a deeper frown.

“I have a company to lead,” was the excuse he spat out, and he ran both hands through his light strands in evident frustration. “I can’t believe our family thought that you were a capable leader. I, however, saw right through your facades, alright? Despite all your fucking degrees and licenses, you left the Zenin Corporation as a shithole for me to manage.”

“No, I had set the company to run efficiently,” Toji retorted, keeping his levelheaded demeanor. “You turned the Zenin Corporation into—in your own words—a shithole. You decided to fire everyone I had hired. So currently, your managers are inept, your shareholders are unhappy, your daddy is getting angry, and the most convenient person to blame is me.” He shrugged dismissively. “Rookie mistakes. E for Effort, I guess. Luckily for you, Y/N is a good way to cover up the competence which you lack. Thus, she’s only useful when you deem her as such.”

Naoya scoffed, and his shoulders rose and fell with each enraged breath. “Because you don’t understand what a burden she can otherwise be. Besides, I can treat and use her in whatever way I please!”

He might not display this visibly, but Toji felt disgusted.

“Don’t talk like you own her. That’s disrespectful. She's a person, not an object.”

"What—" Naoya paused, and his eyebrows creased in annoyance. "Who the fuck do you think you are? That woman is my wife.”

“Then treat her like one,” Toji shot back. While matching Naoya's hostility with his own, he could see the latter's eyes widen at the remark. Not that Toji paid him any mind, and he continued staring at his younger cousin with an unfazed demeanor that showed how willing he was to defend. "She might be your wife, but she is not your property.”

As if Naoya would care.

Rather, he clenched his hands into tight fists by his sides. “You need to stay away from her. You’ve had your chances with marriages. Y/N is mine and not yours. I swear, if you talk about her with your gross lips again, I'll—" He stopped, as he wasn’t quite sure what would be a good threat. “I’ll—”

“You’ll do what, kid?” Toji interrupted, knowing just how pissed Naoya would get from every reminder of who the older person was and who the actual successor to the Zenin inheritance should be. “I’ll keep her since you can’t. You call her a burden, but I don’t find her to be one. I don’t know about you, but I like her. Have you ever had a civil conversation with her? She's sweet and quite interesting to talk to.”

The continuous comments unsurprisingly make Naoya bristle further.

“I said don’t talk about her like that!” he snarled. “Here you are, bossing me around and telling me to treat her better, but listen to how you talk about the woman! Holy shit, you're such a fucking creep.”

“Me?” Toji repeated, appalled by his bravery to say those words. “Mind you, boy, she is the one who wanted to talk to me first. As her concerned therapist and the more mature adult, I believe I must listen to her complaints and make her feel better, especially when she keeps whining she’s not being fucked good.”

Naoya breathed heavily, his chest undulating while he boiled with rage. Yet, as the younger, more naive, and less physically adept challenger, he could not make himself fight back against the other man. “You...You don’t know shit, Fushiguro.”

Immediately, Toji arched a brow.

“Really?" Was that supposed to be an insult? "I don't know shit?" This was hilarious! "Oh, boy. I know a lot of fucking shit alright. About ‘your wife’ or whatever you want to deem her, there is not a single chance in hell that she’d ever think about calling you her husband anymore.”

Naoya stared back, rather stupefied.

In any other situation, he would simply take the remark as a cheap way to rouse him. Of course, talking about you would be the easiest route to do so. This time, though, Toji’s suspiciously happy visage as he retraced his steps to the counter and positioned himself comfortably against the surface had him uneasy.

He did not like what the other man insinuated.

"What...do you mean?" As much as he tried, Naoya could not hide how affected he appeared. “Our marriage is none of your damn business.”

Toji shrugged. "Marriage? What marriage? I don't see the rings on her finger, kid. Heard she tossed them. Apparently, you made her upset enough for her to take them off."

Without a better way to retaliate, Naoya clenched his teeth to signal his displease. “Ring or not, she’s still my wife,” he spat. “Plus, I do not want my wife around a womanizer like you.”

Instead of taking umbrage from your husband’s words, Toji tossed his head to the side and let out a deep, harrowing chortle. “Wow! You’re one to talk," he rebuked. "The whole household used to joke about how you brought a different girlfriend to each of our family dinners. At the moment, you’re married, and what? You want your spouse to come home, but you then drive her away. You want her to be a good partner, but torment her when she does. Please, you are embarrassing yourself. Why don’t you make up your fucking mind?” With his emerald gaze returning to the younger man, Toji then added, “Now, if you excuse me. My next client is arriving and I have an appointment."

Still, Naoya was not ready to let the conversation end. “We’re not done. You think you’re all ‘high and mighty.’ But, you’re low, Toji. So, so low. Your last wife was a divorcee, and now you’re a motherfucker into married women, huh?”

"So were you."

"What?"

"Baby?"

And, in one go, all signs of life drained away from Naoya swiftly at the new voice.

No fucking way, his expression seemed to read as he craned his neck around in rigid and robotic motions. Naoya had to blink twice to confirm the woman by the door before he placed his arms down and froze.

Mari, who returned the man’s aghast expression with perplexion, had her dark brows crinkled. “What…Why are you looking at me like that?”

Even with Naoya’s face presently angled away, Toji could see his eyes widen at the ludicrous question. Yet, they both thought the same thing: did she forget where she was?

“What are you doing here? I did not expect you,” she continued. “But, I’m here for an…an appointment.”

Her voice trailed off.

When the woman finally seemed to remember that Toji was also there, her dark eyes rounded in alarm. Wait, her expression seemed to say as she very, very slowly dragged her sights to the man by the counter. Once her eyes met Toji’s, her jaw fell slack before she promptly slapped both hands over her gaping mouth.

With the two visitors transformed into Medusa's stone statues, Toji took great gratification in the perfect timing. This coincidence far exceeded his expectations because he honestly did not anticipate ever being in the same vicinity as Naoya and Mari, yet here he was. Presented this chance, Toji pushed his bottom lip out in fake thought and furrowed his brows, pointing at Mari then Naoya then at Mari again.

“Seems like you two know each other?” he asked in mock confusion, his finger swinging between the pair. “How come I didn’t get invited to the party? Has something been going on between my baby cousin and my ex-wife?”

No response.

So, he continued.

“What? Were you two spying on me or something?” (He knew the answer was yes.) “Or…wait,” and his voice dropped to a dangerous low, “Don’t tell me that you two…have been having an affair?”

Naoya—realizing the trap they had been set up in—swung his arm forward, prepared to defend them with whatever good lies he could spin (which Toji knew that he had a talent for), only for the woman to speak up first.

“We’re acquaintances.”

The manner in which Mari snapped caused Toji to pop a brow in surprise.

Oh? he noted. His suggestion on their illicit relationship appeared to strike a particular nerve. Even Naoya could sense the danger in his mistress’s overreaction as his eyes widened in horror. He tried to give her a warning expression, but she failed to see him.

By the way, did Naoya, know that Mari—well—wasn’t very streetsmart?

Maybe, but he likely prioritized keeping her in his bed to pay her absent wits any attention.

At this, Toji could not pass on the excellent opportunity to simultaneously provoke the two people who betrayed him.

“Just acquaintances?” he pressed.

“Yes.”

In another curt response, Mari pressed her lips into a firm line and shot Naoya a ‘shut the hell up and play along’ look, thinking she was slick when Toji only felt second-hand embarrassment from how utterly blatant the communication had been executed.

Pretending to nod along, Toji added, “Interesting. Because I never knew acquaintances called each other ‘baby.’”

Checkmate.

But the woman must not be thinking, as she sensed her inevitable defeat but hurriedly explained herself by saying, “It’s not what you think, Naoya and I haven’t had sex since—”

“Stop,” Toji interrupted before she could finish her sentence. That statement truly crossed the line. The lady must be inane. To talk about her dirty deeds with his relative as if that was appropriate! Clearly, she was oblivious to common sense and proper etiquette, given how she was desperate to try to save some face, resorting to the most crass justifications as if that would ameliorate the issue. Toji felt ashamed to think that he used to be married to this woman for years. While he noticed a fit of pique boiling within him, he ultimately let the ill feelings go. “I never asked about your sex lives. I don’t want to hear about what you two have been doing.”

Plus, the tabloids have shown him enough already.

Nonetheless, Mari’s face brewed with annoyance. She folded her arms firmly and tucked her chin outward. “Well, if that’s the case, then when and where I’m riding your cousin's dick should not matter!”

“Oh my fucking lord, stop talking already!” and this time, it was Naoya who spoke, shouting into his hands and cupping his face from sheer exasperation. He had been stunned speechless for a while but could no longer contain himself. When he picked up his head, he growled with rage as he raised a shaking finger at the woman. “You,” he seethed. “You’re saying all the wrong things! Holy fuck, bitch, how fucking blind are you? Unbelievable!” He leered to the side as if shaking off part of his rage, only to add on, “Just…Just shut the fuck up!”

The sudden, scathing comments soured Mari's mien in seconds. “Wait, but babe—”

“No.” Naoya cut her off right there. “Don’t ‘babe’ or ‘baby’ me with your bullshit anymore. Can’t you fucking see the atrocities you have fucking committed in the last ten minutes? You’re literally ruining my life! Even Y/N wouldn’t be stupid enough to say all the crap you just said! I should’ve never approached a dumb whore like you.”

While Toji had his eyes widened from silent bewilderment, tears began to roll down the woman's cheeks.

“That’s a lie!” For what must be her first time, she had to face the reality that, despite all the pleasure and company she offered Naoya Zenin after his tough days at work, he was an egotistical sociopath and a married man. "That's not what you've been telling me. You know I’m the only person who can make you happy, not the actual whore whom you have at home! These last few months, you would’ve been absolutely miserable without me!”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a reminder,” she hissed harshly. “You had said so yourself.”

At this point, Naoya found himself in the middle of a living nightmare.

To think about his wife who had been avoiding him for days, to see his loathsome cousin watch the scene like this was some sort of Netflix episode, and now to witness his mistress ridiculing him like a fucking fool.

“God dammit!” he roared. With animosity overwhelming his sanity, Naoya—who was already on the verge of destruction—only saw red as he lurched forward. He used his arms to sweep everything, all things, anything he could reach from a nearby tabletop onto the floor: a ceramic vase that shattered into shards, magazines that flew in all directions, a framed photograph that clinked upon descent. He didn’t stop there. Like a mid-tantrum toddler, he kicked angrily at the mess, sending paper and broken pottery flying in all directions without much regret for his actions.

In fact, this was cathartic for him. Because the very thing he wanted was to make his cousin's world wretched, just like how the latter had done to him.

“I'm going to find Y/N and bring her back to me, but if either of you…” the blonde warned several moments later, regarding the therapist and the woman with a deathly fire burning in his auburn eyes, “if either of you do more shit to ruin my life in the meantime, I...I will make you regret.”

With that, Naoya stormed off in a huff, releasing all the profanities that have manifested his anger throughout his life. Mari followed soon after, chasing after him in sobs.

Finally, as for Toji, well, he...was stunned.

He blinked thrice in the same second, processing what he had just seen.

He drew in a deep breath...

...and he chuckled.

He knew he looked crazy, laughing to himself in an empty and currently deranged parlor. However, Toji had not felt this triumphant and optimistic in years. He saw a hopeful gleam for himself, for his family, for his colleagues, and for you.

He picked up his phone with a languid grin, scrolling through his contacts and sending over a quick text when he found your name: Guess what?

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: Throughout this fic, Toji and Naoya obviously have a very complicated and terse cousin-ship. For weeks and months, I have been thinking about how to orchestrate this scene, where we see them together for the first time...and with Mari too. Likes and reblogs are appreciated, and let me know in the comments how you all are doing!

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