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chosai · 2 days

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BREAK HIS COMPOSURE — NANAMI KENTO.

SYNOPSIS. gaining the title 'duke' not only came with the prestige, but came along the lonely days you spent yearning for your husband as he toggled the new duties and responsibilities he had to face. it was only a matter of time before you decided that you could only have so much patience, deciding that it wouldn't hurt if you played around a little – watching as your husband who held himself in great temperance and sangfroid fall into pieces the more you attempt to break his composure.

DETAILS. duke!nanami kento x reader TAGS. 18+ content mdni. breeding kink, explicit language, rough sex, cunnilingus WC. 4.1k

SORA'S NOTE. reposted another one of my works from my old writing blog. please enjoy! <3

NANAMI KENTO, no doubt, was a powerful young man who earned himself the title Duke from the royal king after his contribution and victory in the most recent war. Of course, now that he was given the new title, he was given a whole lot of responsibilities and duties that he’s got to fulfill now that he had plenty more people to protect. Nowadays, the young duke would either be found training his lot of knights, hunting, or cooped up in his grand office busying himself with myriads of documents. Despite being incredibly proud of his achievements, you still couldn’t help but yearn for the affection of your beloved husband.

Many nights were spent alone, staring up at the tall dark ceiling while you silently counted sheep – hoping that once you had reached a hundred, he would arrive and join you in bed (he’d often fall asleep on the sofa in his office). And, many nights were spent with you fending for yourself when you longed for his touch, arching your back when you’d climax on your fingers – however, you never felt fully satisfied. Your fingers could never compare to his larger and thicker fingers, nor his…

You shake your head rapidly, feeling your cheeks growing redder by the lewd thoughts of your husband swimming through your mind. The last time you had intercourse with the male was when you both consummated the marriage, which was almost half a year ago, and then a month after that, the war happened – and two months later, he’d come back with a new title, Duke. Everything else after that was a blur. He was just within your reach — residing in the same manor and all, could almost reach for him but always got farther and farther away. You miss your husband, desperately.

You stroll through the hallways of the manor, taking small strides towards the familiar giant door with a board of your freshly baked bread balanced in your hands. You continue to hum a gentle tune as you got closer and closer to the door. Although, it may appear to other people that his wife was innocently barging into his office thus surprising him with baked goods made with love – However, unknowingly for them, you had other plans hidden up your sleeves.

“Kento,” your voice gentle as you call out his name, “I brought you something that I think you’d love!”

You open the door further, revealing your husband — as per usual — busying himself with his documents. Fatigue was plastered all across his face, though he tried his best to mask it, but the dark circles underneath his hazel eyes were of no help. You could tell that even his muscles had gotten sore from training and staying seated for long periods of time. You placed the bread tray in front of him, and you walked around the desk to stand next to your husband.

“Thank you, honey,” He quickly thanks you, sending you a quick nod of acknowledgement. Your husband was in pure autopilot mode, his hand continuously signing the documents despite him slowly losing focus — desperately trying to keep them open rather than succumbing to slumber.

“You should take a moment to relax, Kento.” You say. Just as he is about to come up with some type of excuse as to why he shouldn’t take a break, you lean in closer to his ear. “Let me help you.”

Your hands travel up to his back, and you applied some pressure on his shoulders while you massaged him. Your husband releases a low groan when you apply even more pressure on a stubborn muscle knot on his shoulders. You smile when he relaxes into your touch, closing his eyes while he leaned closer into you as you massaged into his sore muscles until those pesky knots disappeared. “How do you feel now?”

“I feel much better,” Kento sighs, humming pleasantly, “ Thank you for the bread, too. I’ll make sure to finish it while I continue working.”

“Can’t your break be a little longer?” You probe at him, pouting softly. “I missed you.”

A sudden wave of boldness and confidence overtakes your consciousness, and you bring yourself down on his lap, your arms snaking around your husband’s muscular shoulders. Kento looks completely taken aback, and you eat that expression up as if it is candy.

“Kento,” you begin, “can’t you see that your cute and loving wife misses you?”

You press your lips against his ear, before whispering: “I’ve been thinking about you so much, putting a baby inside of me.”

Slowly, you thrust your hips against his thigh, watching your husband in pure amusement as he attempts to keep his composure; his hand tightening on his pen, knuckles white. Almost immediately, you can feel him hardening underneath you, and you grin almost immediately. Something about his reaction swells your heart with pride, knowing that despite being busy you still, somewhat, had an effect on him. Even more, Kento is taken aback, completely speechless (and undeniably turned on) from his wife’s bold ministrations.

“B-baby inside..?” His voice comes out as a dry rasp, his eyes wide .

Before your husband can process anything else, he felt the weight on his lap disappearing, and he quickly stares up to watch you getting ready to leave. You fixed the wrinkles on the hem of your dress, trying to fight back the grin on your face after having just teased your usually stoic husband. He had always appeared so cool and composed, so watching him try so hard to keep his composure undeniably gives you some type of thrill.

“Y/N?” He calls out your name, looking visibly confused. Your eyes travel down to your husband’s trousers, smiling innocently as you caught sight of the large tent growing between his legs.

“I almost forgot to mention, but the marchioness invited me to her manor for a tea party.” You say, attempting to stifle the giggle bubbling in your throat while your husband appears flustered. “I won’t be back until tonight.”

You lean in to give him a quick kiss on his lips, not before licking his bottom lip as you pull away. You are being far too mean with your husband, but you can’t help it — watching him slowly crack beneath your manipulation sends a shock of arousal straight between your legs. “Until then, promise me that you’ll finish the bread and take breaks when you need it, okay?”

Before the man can even muster a single response, you walked out of his office. Only two could play at this game, you think to yourself as you close the office door behind you.

Hours have already passed and you finish catching up with the noble ladies, exchanging your goodbyes and letters before parting ways. It has truly been a while since you had last caught up with your friends. Nevertheless, the time spent at your friend’s manor is enjoyable, listening to all the spicy gossip while enjoying desserts and tea.

The ride back home in the carriage is silent — the only sound present were the continuous patters from the horses’ steps. You stare outside the window, quietly watching the manor eventually disappearing as the carriage goes further away in distance. It is already a quarter past nine, perhaps the latest you have ever stayed out, and it is safe to assume that your beloved husband is probably resting on the sofa in his office again.

You lean your back against the seat, pressing the side of your head against the window as your eyes begin to grow heavy, the distant sounds of the horses’ steps gradually lulling you into a short slumber.

“My lady, we’ve arrived.”

“Oh my, we’re already here?” You ponder to yourself out loud, groggily opening your eyes. You place your hands atop the coachman’s guiding you down the carriage, and you stare at the tall manor before you. Once you enter inside, you are automatically greeted with your maids ushering you to the bathroom with a change of clothes. Undeniably, you felt a little disappointed, as you believe that your husband had unknowingly proved your point from earlier — you, at least, hoped that he’d stay awake a little longer. You sink lower into the tub, blowing bubbles as you scrunch your brows together, the water hiding pouting lips. The maid had left you alone earlier, telling you that she’d return with a towel soon, but it’s been moments.

You glance around the bathroom, trying to decipher the exact location of your nightgown. Ah, it was on the stool, next to the door. If anyone had walked in on you grabbing your nightgown from the stool, the only thing they’d see is your wet and bare body. It shouldn’t be too bad, though —after all, it’s always been your maids coming in. Slowly, you stand up from the large tub, and you immediately shiver from the wave of cold air rushing to you,, cool beads of water dripping down your body. With careful steps, you make your way across the room, your hand reaching out towards your nightgown.

You suddenly hear a knock on the door, and you instinctively grab the gown to cover the front of your body. It must be the maid, you think to yourself and you try to mimic that of a stern face — however, you can’t bring yourself to be too harsh on a new maid, after all. You watch the door open slowly, and you tap your fingers against your elbows. “Hana, where were you all this… Oh.”

Almost immediately, your face is sent aflame and you scurry away from the door, your failed attempt of a stern persona pathetically crumbling away as the space revealed no one other than your husband standing in front of the doorway with a towel in his hand. Hazel eyes travel up and down your frame, his jaw tensing at the sight of your bunched up nightgown barely covering your body — hell, it didn’t cover anything, he stares longingly at your left breast deciding to slip out of the covers. He steps into the room and closes the door shut immediately, his eyes still locked into your frame and he stays silent.

You press the nightgown against your body even more and you look away from his gaze, as if it could help hide your insecurities that are growing the more he stared and stayed silent. However, all that stops when you glance back at your husband and he gives you a come hither motion with his index finger. “Kento,” you say his name softly, “I thought you were asleep—”

“Come here,” is all he says to you, his voice low and baritone. You easily comply with his words, taking small strides to get closer to the male. “Hand me your nightgown.”

“I thought it was Hana that knocked,” you say quietly as you hand your husband your nightgown, further revealing your naked body. You can hear Kento’s breath hitch for a mere moment before he quickly regains his composure — however, it is already so fragile. He swiftly wraps the towel around your body before pulling you closer to him, his hands resting on your hips while he leans closer to your face with stern eyes. “You’re lucky that it was me, then. What were you thinking about going out of the bath like that? What if it wasn’t Hana or I that walked in?”

“I didn't want to stay in the bath anymore, and I genuinely believed that my maids would be the only ones to walk in. Because of that, I didn’t feel too worried.” You answer your husband softly, squeezing his shoulder ever so slightly. “Despite you giving me a bit of a surprise, I can’t say that I’d rather have Hana come here instead of you.”

“Is that so? That’s a relief, then. I did tell her that I’d take care of the rest and she could rest for the night.” He hummed, before lifting you up in his arms without any warning, immediately eliciting a surprised gasp from your lips.

“W-what are you doing?” You question your husband, stammering as you instinctively place your hand onto his chest.

“You know, after you played your little game earlier, I wasn’t able to do my work properly.” says Kento, opening the bathroom door. “I believe you should bear some sort of responsibility, no?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter under your breath, masking a soft grin as you nuzzle your face into your husband’s neck.

“Putting a baby inside you,” he says, a slight strain present in his baritone voice as he continues walking down the hall with your towel-covered body in his arms. The walk down to your shared bedroom feels like an eternity has passed, the sounds of his footsteps resonating across the quiet hall. You want to question him where the rest of maids and butlers had gone but you relented, your body tense under the man’s carnal gaze.

“If fucking a baby inside of you is what you want, then it’s what you’ll get. It’s what my sweet wife asked for, after all.”

“H-Honey, what are you—?”

With one hand, Kento swiftly opens the bedroom door. You let out a small shriek when he throws you on the soft mattress of your king-sized bed, his large hands pinning your hands above your head. He has this carnal glint in his amber eyes as he stares deeply into yours, it was as if all his self-control was beginning to crumble right before your eyes — you’ve never seen him like this; a cool, composed and reserved man looking so disheveled above you—his dress shirt buttoned loosely, revealing his collarbones and the evident incarnadine flush radiating onto his cheeks. Truly, it is a delicious sight to behold, and the wetness dwelling between your legs only seems to grow the longer you stare at the man.

“What a lewd woman, you are.” He mutters, his grip on your wrists tightening while his other hand trails down your chest, slowly pulling the towel down. “Was my sweet wife having fun playing teatime after leaving me to take care of this?”

Before you can even utter a word, a sudden gasp leaves your lips when Kento grinds his hips against yours; the delightful friction of the erection growing in his trousers rubbing against your clit, your back arching in hopes to get more. “I missed you,” you say between heavy breaths, “I missed you so much—Ah! Y-You’ve been so cooped up in your o-office lately and ngh..”

Your words were cut abruptly by his lips, teeths clashed and tongues intertwined while his rough and calloused fingers trail up your torso, towards your bare chest in a teasingly slow pace. A muffled moan leaves your lips, only to be covered by your husband’s lips, as he teases your already erect nipples.

“Tell me more,” said your husband, his lips leaving yours.

With heavy eyes, you watch Kento’s lips trail to where his hands once rested. His tongue swirls around the mound before sucking on your skin harshly, and you rest your fingers tangled in his blond locks as he continues to elicit those cute sounds coming from your swollen lips.

“You’ve been so busy with your duties as the duke, and—Mhhm..!—I-I’ve been feeling so alone these many nights while I longed for you, so so desperately. I love you so much Kento—Ah!” You mewl out those words in unadulterated wanton, your voice all shakey, it almost sounds embarrassingly pathetic when your husband is doing nothing more than teasing your breasts rather than fucking you relentlessly in the mattress. You can barely care less about how you sound though, because his lips and touch alone are enough to send you into ecstasy. You want him to touch you more. The needy ache between your legs continuously grows more intense the longer he teases you.

“H-Honey, ‘want more. Please.” You beg your husband, your fingers desperately trying to unbutton his wrinkled dress shirt. “I need more of you.”

Kento doesn’t reply back, continuing his little ministrations on your neglected mound. It is adorable seeing him so focused on pleasuring you, but the heat you feel in your pussy feels too overwhelming. You push your husband’s head away from your mound, his lips leaving your skin with a soft ‘pop!’ He glances at you questioningly.

It was a bold and sudden decision that you had made on a whim out of sheer desperation, but his reaction made it all the more worth it. As soon as your fingers leave his half-buttoned dress shirt, you hook your arms underneath your knees and spread your legs open, revealing your cunt drenched in your desperate juices. “Kento, I mean it when I told you that I wanted you to put a baby in me.”

His mouth is left agape at your sudden boldness, his eyes fixated on the juices slowly dripping out of your hole — his breath gets stuck in his throat as he watches your small fingers spread your pussy lips apart. “Kento, touch me. Please.”

“Shit.”

It is almost as if the string has finally snapped inside of him, because before his mind can even start to think properly, his hands are on your thighs, keeping your legs spread apart as he begins the merciless assault on your dripping folds; his tongue lapping at all your wetness as if he was animal thirsty for water. Kento almost groans at the way his finger stretches your pussy, his finger sliding in almost immediately due to your juices. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath, “you’re so wet for me.”

He slides his index finger in and out before adding a second finger to the mix. He starts off slow, but his pace gradually quickens to that of which is considered merciless. The sounds of your wet cunt getting demolished by his fingers echoes in the grand room, along with your cries of pleasure. Your hips thrash against his fingers, and you can feel the sensation of pressure that was building up in your abdomen intensifying the more that he pleases you with his large fingers. Within less than a second, you cum intensely around his fingers, a loud moan erupting from your throat as your body slumps against Kento.

‘His fingers feel so much better compared to my fingers,’ you think to yourself as you try to recover from your first orgasm.

While you attempt to catch your breath, you glance back to Kento only to watch him undress with your mouth salivating. It’s already a given that your husband would be incredibly fit as he often trains with the knights and hunts (while not forgetting the night you had consummated with him in the dark the past few months ago — you felt every crevice of his muscles) — but now, seeing it up close and so clearly — he is truly a sight to behold. You reach your arm towards his chiseled abdomen, your fingers drawing hearts across his skin, and your eyes travel lower past his abdomen; staring intently at the huge tent growing beneath his underwear. You want to get fucked by this man already, so so bad.

“Kento,” you say his name softly, tracing your fingers along the outline of your husband’s clothed erection before trailing back up to the waistband, tugging it down slightly to expose more of his v-line. He tugs his boxers down completely, and your mouth immediately waters at the exquisite sight. He is a lot bigger than you had remembered.

When he slowly rubs the tip of his dick against your folds, shivers trickle down your spine as you raise your hips to meet his, attempting to get him inside.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He mumbles, his voice hoarse. “Look at you all spread open for me, desperate to get a taste of my cock.”

He slips his tip in, eliciting a sharp breath past your trembling lips, and then he pulls out. You whine out his name in a bated breath, your cheeks flushed in an incarnadine hue. Kento spares you a soft smile, almost as if it was mocking you, before he fills your hole up to the very brim — splitting your pussy open.

“Oh fuck—Kento!” A scream slips past your lips, your eyes scrunched shut as a huge wave of pleasure rushes through your veins, sending goosebumps on your skin. Your husband is relentless with his movements, your legs spread apart by his strong grip. The sounds of his skin slapping against yours along with cries of his name resonates across the bedroom, coupled with the intense squeaking from the mattress. “F-Feels so good—Ahn! Please—Please don’t stop—Oh!”

“You dirty woman,” Kento sneers, “we’ve just started and your pussy’s already so greedy for my cum by how tight you’re squeezing me. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to get my sweet wife pregnant—filled with all my cum.”

With that, he spreads your legs even wider and leans his torso closer to yours; his face merely centimeters away from yours. “I can feel you getting tighter,” He says, his hot breath fanning against your skin, “you’re getting real close, hm?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to properly reply though, as he trails his one hand down to your clit and rubs rough circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a silent scream—your mouth agape and eyes rolled back as you ride out your orgasm, arching your back against his chest.

You are barely given enough time to recover when Kento returns to work, his lips instantly connecting to yours while he thrusts his cock inside your sopping hole with a stuttering pace. His hands travel up to your breasts and gives them a harsh squeeze, the pace of his thrusts quickening. Your husband looks utterly delectable, his face scrunched up as he focuses on your pleasure, small beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. Pleasure fills your veins, and your cries only increase in volume the closer you are to reaching your second orgasm.

Thoughts of you being all plumped up and pregnant play repeatedly in his mind, and it merely ignites his desire to pump all his cum into you. Breaths ragged, he stuffs his head into the crook of your neck, nails gripping into your hips as he continues to plummet into you. “K-Kento—!” You wantonly whine out his name, wrapping your legs tightly around your husband’s hips. “Cum inside me—please. Want your kids so bad.”

How can he not cum? Especially when the sight of his sweet wife being drunk on his dick is right before his eyes. With a groan (combined with a growl) of your name along with a string of curses leaving his lips, he stiffens up inside you; warm ropes of his cum coating your walls white.

Upon pulling out, he watches large beads of white leaking out of your hole and he sticks his finger inside, pushing his cum back inside. You released a soft sigh in pleasure, your legs slightly twitching at your husband’s touch.

“How are you feeling now?” Questions your husband, Kento. You reach your arm out to his face, your thumb tracing light circles on his cheekbones.

“I’m a happy, happy wife,” you reply to him, laughing softly before leaning into his lips, giving him a soft peck. Kento chuckles lightly into the kiss. “Was I too rough with you?” He asks you once more, and you shake your head immediately.

“I think I’ve realized just now how much I enjoy being manhandled by you,” you reply back to him, giggling. “Rather, I enjoy seeing this new side of you.”

Your giggles quickly gets replaced by a slight gasp when your husband suddenly adjusts your position, your face and chest now pressed against the mattress with your husband behind you, his hand lightly rubbing his erect cock. Swiftly, you turn your head to Kento, your mouth agape as you are just about to question him but the sting of his hand on your ass immediately erases all rational thoughts in your mind. Heat immediately rushes to your face once more at the foreign, yet pleasurable sensation.

“K-Kento,” you are able to utter your husband’s name, your arms already feeling weak from holding yourself up from the mattress. A shaky breath leaves your lips when he slowly rubs his cock against you from behind, your ears picking up a hoarse chuckle.

“I never said I was done with you,” Kento tells you, “not until I’m sure that you’ll get pregnant with all my cum.”

interactions + reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! thank you for reading <3

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cutielando · 1 day

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can you please do a carlos friends to lovers? no smut, i can’t find carlos fluff. reader attends all the races & carlos is secretly obsessed with her & lando helps set them up?

a/n: had a lot of fun writing this one!!

♡♡♡♡♡

You and Carlos had known each other since you were little children. Growing up in Madrid next to the Spaniard had been the highlight of your entire childhood.

Carlos had always made sure he had time for you, even between his karting races and training, he never felt to make sure you knew he didn’t forget about you, that you were still his best friend and no distance could change that.

Your friendship continued well into your adulthood, well into his career all the way from karting to Formula 1. Albeit, due to the fact that you also had a stable job back home in Madrid and were building your career, you guys saw each other less and less. Settling for phone calls, texts and FaceTimes, you still felt like something was missing.

You missed all the times that you would hang out together on the balcony of your home, drinking wine and talking about anything and everything. The laughter booming in the air, reverberating against your chest, the gentle lingering touches shared between you that you both ignored, knowing it was for the best.

It wasn’t until Carlos signed with Ferrari that things changed.

He had called you as soon as he had got out of the meeting with the team, excitedly telling you about everything that he was promised, what the next season would look like for him after he departed with McLaren; he didn’t miss a single detail.

Yapping about how excited he was for the future, but also how sad it would be for him to not be teammates with Lando anymore. But the sentence that he kept repeating every time you two would talk broke your heart every time: “I wish you were here to experience this with me”

It broke you every time he would say it, the same longing that he felt amplified 100 times over for you. You loved him, more than you sometimes cared to admit, and certainly more than you would ever have the guts to tell him. You had loved him for a while now, but loving him from the shadows and distance was taking its toll on you.

Which is why you all but jumped at the opportunity he offered you to go along with him, attend the races and celebrate with him. He had claimed that he couldn’t bear thinking about the future if you wouldn’t be there, next to him, cheering him on and comforting him whenever needed.

He needed your stability and comfort, he needed to feel you there with him, no longer settling for phone calls while being on opposite sides of the world.

It wasn’t fair, and he wanted to change that.

And so, you packed your bags, smoothed things over at your job and got on the plane, and met him in Singapore. It wasn’t the best race to choose from for your first, the heat and humidity in the air hitting you like a ton of bricks as soon as you had stepped foot out of the airport.

But seeing him waiting for you, leaning against the side of his car, it made everything worth it. He hadn’t even seen you coming before you completely blindsided him and threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his tall frame. You both sighed in relief, the feeling of each other finally back together not being able to be compared with anything else.

“I can’t believe I’m really here” you had blurted out, suddenly afraid that it was all just a dream and you would wake up soon enough.

But hearing him chuckle, feeling his chest booming with laughter, you knew it was real. He was there, right in front of you, hugging you like his life depended on him. And for him, it did. He had spent so much time away from you, being deprived of your presence for longer than he would have liked. And now, when he had you right in his arms after so long, he finally felt like himself again, like he had just found the missing piece of his puzzle.

You spent the night catching up, even though you had been talking on the phone the entire time you had been deprived of each other, he still needed a night of talking to you, drinking wine and forgetting about everything else in his life besides you right in front of him.

Entering the paddock had felt more exhilarating than you would have ever imagined. The roaring of the engines and the teams preparing for the races, the screaming of the fans and every interviewer trying to get a word with the drivers. It felt as exhilarating as it felt absolutely nerve-wrecking.

“Are you okay?” Carlos asked you once you had made it to the garage.

You nodded, the smile seemingly not wanting to leave your lips. “I’m good, this is exciting” he smiled at that, nodding along.

He left you alone for a while, going over to speak to his race engineer before the race. You had stayed in place, only admiring the garage you had seen so many times on TV, now standing right in the middle of it.

When he came back, you noticed he had brought Lando with him.

“Y/N, you remember the Lando I told you about. Lando, this is my best friend, Y/N” Carlos introduced the two of you, coming to stand by your side.

“It’s very nice to meet you, I’ve heard many great things about you from Carlos” you said, smiling at the younger driver who shook your hand.

Lando greeted you back, eyeing the way Carlos was standing next to you and looking at you while you and Lando spoke.

You and Lando clicked right away, you now understood why Carlos loved the Brit and spoke so highly of him. You found yourselves a new hobby by poking fun at Carlos, who seemingly internally regretted introducing you to each other.

As the time to get in the car grew nearer, Lando bid his goodbyes and returned to his garage, only one thought in his mind.

I need to get Y/N and Carlos together by the end of the weekend.

♡♡♡♡♡

Carlos didn’t know who to thank first for winning the Singapore GP. Should he thank God for finally giving him what he had wanted ever since the start of the season? Should he thank the team for finally managing to beat Red Bull and win? No. He didn’t do any of that first.

He went to you.

He found you in the sea of mechanics and family members that had run out at the barriers, ready to welcome the new winner into their arms. But he didn’t seem to notice anyone else apart from you.

Scooping you up in his arms, his only focus was on you and the feeling of you in his embrace. He couldn't put into words how thankful he was that you were there with him, witnessing this win that the whole team had worked so hard for. The entire season had culminated into this win, and you were there to witness it.

“I’m so proud of you” you whispered once he had lowered you to the ground, his arms still tightly holding onto your arms.

He mumbled something incoherently in your shoulder, but you paid it no mind. You could only focus on him, the feeling of him slumping and relaxing against your body like he always did.

Unbeknownst to you, Lando had been looking at you two ever since he got out of his car, smiling mischievously under his helmet while walking towards the two of you.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you might as well stop torturing yourselves and just kiss already” he said, making you and Carlos pulled away from each other.

Before either of you could reply, he turned around and left, walking over to celebrate with his team.

Turning around to face each other, not a word was spoken between the two of you, but your eyes were telling a whole different story. You didn’t even think as you stood on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his, so many years up buried and pent-up feelings finally being free.

The entire team cheered once they noticed what was happening, but you and Carlos didn’t hear anyone else around you. It was just the two of you in that moment, in your own little bubble.

“We should have done this years ago” he mumbled against your lips, making you laugh.

“Yes, we should have”

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brainrot-of-a-thot · 8 hours

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girl- i'm a absolute whore for tagame😫 whenever you get the chance ofc, can you do head cannons on how they are in a relationship?

taken by jo togame.

or, what he’s like in a relationship, featuring: jo togame

a/n: yesssss another togame whore! pls, calling all togame whores, congregate to my blog. pls pls pls. still struggling with our power, but i wanted to try to get at least something out to y’all babes. ps, some of these headcanons were inspired by @togament (I hope that’s okay babes!) she recently presented some togame headcanons that just fit so well that I can’t help but adopt them myself.

post edit: also, babes, I’m fuckin speechless because we are five away from 300 followers — like??? our little family is growing so rapidly and I just love all of y’all to bits <33

c/w: this has nsfw headcanons y’all, so just heed that, fluff, relationship headcanons, sfw headcanons, fem!reader, implied height difference

the first thing to understand about jo togame is that when he falls, he falls hard. he falls in love with every little thing about you — even before entering a relationship, he has fallen for you, and thus his attention is always on you, so it’s inevitable that he will pick up on all your habits and quirks. it isn’t that he tucks these away as ammunition to embarrass you; in fact, the only way he will embarrass you with these is when he jets into excruciating detail about just how much he loves them.

and togame is doing this near constantly.

most times, it’s completely random — he’ll just spout off at the mouth over the tiniest things.

“your sneezes are so cute. they remind me of a kitten.”

“you’re scrunching your nose again. adorable.”

“did you know that your ears turn red when you blush? it’s lovely.”

this ability of togame’s to pinpoint every little detail about you also extends to changes in appearance — even those that aren’t drastic.

you wear your hair just slightly different than usual? oh, he’s talking about it. a lot. (more than likely noting how cute it is or how much it suits you)

you decide to change up your perfume for the day? his nose has already picked out every single nuance within the scent.

you decide to don dangle earrings instead of studs? expect him to run his fingers over them and compliment them.

on that same token, if ever you wished for a hypeman, congratulations. togame is your hype man one hundred percent.

you know how some guys may freak out or become hella possessive if they see their girl going out in booty shorts and a revealing top? not togame. nope. he’s on you like fire to wood, kissing all over you and gushing about how sexy his girl is.

this doesn’t mean togame doesn’t get possessive; he does. very much so. despite being chill and seemingly uncaring about your appearance, he’s the most possessive man you’ll ever interact with. togame just doesn’t see the sense in freaking out about you showing off your body a little.

after all, it’s such a treat to see you glowing with confidence, to see you comfortable enough in your own skin to don such attire — it’s all he’s ever wanted, for you to see yourself in the same way he sees you. sexy and cute and beautiful.

just don’t let another man look at you for too long. or try to talk to you. or cat call you. togame is losing his shit before you can even blink.

let’s just say he’s sent more than one man to the icu because of instances such as these.

violence aside, togame is a pure gentleman. you know, the type who opens and closes your car door, or walks you all the way to your front door, or pulls out your chair for you, the type who, at the end of the night, plants kisses in places that have you feeling giddy and flustered — such as your palm or inner wrist.

you know that trend of handing someone an orange and seeing if they will peel it for you? togame will peel it for you. except, he’ll be grabbing it from your hand the second you pick it up to peel it for you.

it doesn’t matter if you’re struggling to open something or not — togame simply takes it upon himself to open it for you. snacks, drinks, peelable fruits, it doesn’t matter. don’t even think about giving your little hands exercise when he’s around.

speaking of peeling things, togame likes to peel your clothes off of you. slowly. he likes to enjoy the sight of your bare skin revealing itself to him gradually (especially so if you’re laid out across his mattress, flustered and breathing heavily and so needy for him) and it’s as arousing as it is torturous. also, don’t try to hide parts of your body from him; he prefers to be gentle with you, but he will use his strength on you if need be.

togame doesn’t fuck you. togame makes love to you. togame wants you to feel the depth of his adoration in everything he does — in every slow roll of his hips, in every open-mouthed kiss he litters your body with, in every softly breathed word against your skin. he wants you to feel it until you’re so full of it you may explode (it is not uncommon for his message to reach you so deeply that you start tearing up).

though, if you’re in desperate need of a good fuck, togame will deliver that too. and, oh, he’s ruthless with it. all harsh thrusts and bruising holds, filth spat directly into your ear and kisses so sloppy that you’re drenched in your spit and his.

this, ironically, happens the most just after he’s sent a man to the icu for becoming too bold with his woman.

and since we’re on this track, let’s talk about the way togame kisses. oh, lord, your ovaries won’t be able to handle it.

because togame kisses you like you’re the only girl in the world. like you’re something so precious that he can’t imagine a universe in which his lips aren’t fastened to yours.

he’s the type to cup your nape, cheek or jaw and guide you to his lips. it’s always so soft at the start — a mere press of his mouth to yours. but it doesn’t stay that way. because within moments, togame is coaxing your lips and tongue into his rhythm, slow and languid and driven by such passion that it’s overwhelming.

togame tends to smile a lot, too. or breathe happy little sighs directly into your mouth. when togame kisses you, it’s as if the action has produced a bubble around the two of you — all background noise fades, and time slows to a crawl, until all you can focus on is this moment. it’s easy to get lost within togame, to get lost in his taste and rhythm, to get lost in the moment itself.

even seconds-long kisses feel like century-long embraces.

this sentiment applies to all affectionate embraces — hugs from togame are the absolute best. his arms wrap around you and engulf you in his body, until all you can sense is togame. his warmth, his scent, his heartbeat. his feelings. it’s all there, detailed in every twitch of his muscles.

togame is the best big spoon, as well. he tends to curl his body around yours completely, with one arm shoved beneath the pillow and the other draped around your waist. he also likes to nudge his leg between yours, until his thick thigh is nestled right against your core and your thighs are spread over his. it’s surprisingly comfortable and relieves a lot of aches — especially in the days that aunt flo makes a visit.

all in all, there is one sentiment that is displayed brazenly in every single thing togame does — and that’s that he loves you boldly and unapologetically. being taken by jo togame is truly the best flex in your arsenal.

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker #jo togame x reader #togame jo x reader #togame x reader

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crumb · 2 days

Text

i love how benson is, on the surface, this devil-may-care kind of character, going around shooting people, dragging randy around to fix his life and scaring the hoes in the process—but at the same time there are these little details that show how much he does care. I mean the big obvious one is his motivation for wanting to fix randy, fix randy and help him not turn out like benson and the rest of the people in the small town, we all know this and have gone over these themes. but the smaller details, unintentional or not, those are really nice. Benson being the only one at Burger Burgers Burgers who has his sleeves cuffed and his shirt tucked in. This is one of many details that shows Benson does care, he cares about how he looks and how he's perceived to some extent. because let's be honest, it does set his character apart from the stereotypical 'redneck working at a fast food joint'. Which then gives an added weight to when he walks outside for his cigarette and untucks his shirt. he's releasing himself from this more restrained version he's presented himself as up until that point. Which then ALSO makes Chris saying "Benson, why do you fucking care?" even funnier. because like... Benson basically responds by killing him which in a way is him saying "hey, you're right, why do I fucking care?" lmaoooo Benson is also the only one, other than Randy (and I guess hardy?) who is wearing BBB uniform trousers. Chris is wearing cargo joggers and Jess is wearing a mini skirt with fishnets. If benson really didn't care about that job, or how he looked at that job, would he be wearing 100% of the uniform, well fitted, cuffed, tucked, cleaned, and ironed? And then when changing outfits at his house he puts on a fuzzy yellow/green cardigan and graphic ringer tee, the choices of which feel very intentional and like they're his favorite pieces of clothing. Which I think must be true if you think about him knowing this is his swan song, he wants to go out looking good. But what he doesn't change? His trousers. You'd think after killing three people at a job you probably don't particularly like and dragging their bodies around, changing out of the uniform would be a relief, other than wanting to just get out of clothes that are recognizable to the restaurant. Which makes me think his BBB uniform trousers are the best/most well-fitting trousers he owns which in itself is interesting. I mean look at the clothes he gives randy, they're not that much different in body size so even on benson those jeans would've been oversized as hell. This somewhat cleaned up version of himself that he presents, especially pre-killing spree, juxtaposed to his home life and his car is, I think, a great representation of Benson as a person. His home life, the clutter, his Ma in the front room, the clothes he gives randy, the junk strewn around his car—versus his cleaned and cuffed and tucked uniform and his stylish cardigan and graphic tee (idc what you say i love the cardigan)—I think it shows someone who is struggling but putting on a brave front, trying to come off as put together, as someone who knows himself and doesn't care about other people's perceptions, but at the same time so desperately does care and hates that he cares, and hates that he can't seem to change things. he can only dress them up a little to look presentable to passersby. and maybe it's one of those "the walls are just blue because they're blue!!" type situations and the wardobe dept or kyle or carter or the art director and whoever else, maybe it's just simply style/design decisions by one or several of them and there's no subtextual meaning behind it all—but even if so, I love that, to me at least, it's developed this deeper meaning within the context of the film and the character.

Don't even get me started on the Kurt Cobain cardigan and Benson having a shotgun in his trunk.

#hey i should just shut up #lol #the passenger #the passenger 2023 #im gonna go work on a gifset now hehe

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sparklecarehospital · 2 days

Note

I know you’re not working on any askblog things but will the sparklecare askblog ever return?

i've thought about this a lot, semi-recently. sorry for long post, i had a lot to say

see, the issue with asksparklecare is the fact it's supposed to "go along with canon events" and a lot of the time, the arcs will just abruptly end or change with no real connection between them. haunted was sort of my first attempt at putting a "story" on there, then again with the kissmas comic from 2021.

when i started cometcare for example, i wanted to take the generic "ask blog" format and turn it into a coherent, cohesive connecting story that just had interactive elements to make it engaging with readers as opposed to just making people ask the characters questions aimlessly. the main ask blog never really had that entirely, it was just sort of the classic 2010s-style ask blog, this is apparent in basically every arc on there.

it's stumped me quite a bit because now that i have this very different style of ask blog storytelling, the original ask blog feels weird to go back to and i don't feel the same passion or connection with it that i once did. it's a little bit frustrating. i tried to do an arc about the side patients but as you guys saw, i never even did it because i felt so out of touch with that old format of ask blog posts and i couldn't bring myself to work on it at all.

cometcare and darkermatters both have Stories to them, and each arc has a plot that is moved on by readers- even if i already have it written out, there are little things people can influence through the asks and it's a good way for introducing new characters or expanding on characters who we've already met. several times cometcare will return to specific characters to relay information or new details or exposition or something that their initial introduction didn't have.

it's a much more fun process for me to write actual stories in my AU blogs, instead of just....making the characters talk. and another thing- going alongside the main comic has problems, because sometimes there's information i can only reveal in the comic itself, and it's hard to keep up with it in general.

i enjoyed doing the kissmas comic because i got to do a "story" even if it wasn't interactive. i had fun repeating the concept on cometcare last december with help of the crew.

i'm sort of at a loss of what to do with the main ask blog at this point. as much as i miss doing stuff like that for main comic, i just don't find it FUN to do it that way anymore, i've become too attached to the storytelling aspects of my other ask blogs and it just doesn't feel the same exciting experience of watching people react to events and such.

if anyone has suggestions about what i should do with the main ask blog to solve this problem i'm open to hearing them, it would be nice to have some ideas because i'm really not sure what i want to do with it.

there was a time i had the idea of doing a backstory ask blog as an alternate main canon interactive story that followed similar mechanics as cometcare and darkermatters, but idk if everyone would be interested in that. that would probably be a separate thing if i ever did it.

thoughts, opinions, suggestions and ideas are all welcome in the replies or my inbox, i would love to have your guys' input since im making content you all would be engaging with after all

#answers #long post

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3amfanfiction · 23 hours

Text

MDNI tw: baby trapping and manipulation. GazxReader fluffy-dark one-shot.

Kyle is ready for a baby, so when he sees his chance he just can’t resist. And he knows how he’s going to make you an enthusiastic, albeit unknowing, participant.

He was ready.

It’d been a long time coming; you and he had had your ups and downs and always came out stronger on the other side, together. Always together. It was you and him until the end.

You were such a perfect partner for him, practically handmade to fill in all his rough edges and he never let you forget how much he adored you. He bragged about you any time you came up in conversation and wasn’t shy about crowing your achievements from the rooftop.

Your friends were over the moon at your relationship. Every time you met up for brunch or movie nights you would field at least 3 comments about where they could find their own head-over-heels partner.

You had been sick for a few weeks before you finally went to the doctor.

“Tuberculosis.” you rasp to Kyle on the other end of the phone. “They prescribed me some heavy duty antibiotics called rifampin that are the size of horse pills!” you hold the prescription bottle up towards the light and shake the tablets around in disbelief.

Kyle just laughs into your ear, well aware of how much you disliked needing to take large pills. It had been brought up every time one of you got sick throughout your relationship. You insisted that they got stuck in your throat and stayed there for hours before finally dissolving, no matter what Kyle tried to say. He used it as an excuse to brew your favorite tea and pamper you more than usual whenever you had to take them, so he never tried to argue too hard.

“I miss you . . . wish you were here,” you croak, making your way to the couch to relax and try to catch your breath. Your lungs felt physically tired as you tried to breathe. It was a unsettling feeling. Panting lightly, you pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and cocooned yourself, relaxing back into the cushions.

“I know sweetheart. I wish I was there too. I would make you that soup you like and rub your feet while we watched a movie. You wouldn’t have to get up for anything.” The line crackles and breaks for a few moments before clearing up again. “Just a little bit longer, love, and I’ll be able to come home. It’ll be before you know it.”

“I miss you Kyle.”

“I miss you, sweetheart.”

. . .

When the call ends Gaz immediately looks up the medication you said you were prescribed. Rifampin. He’s never had tuberculosis and he wants to verify that this is the standard treatment and if there are any side effects to watch out for. While he isn’t in the country right now he’d figure something out if you needed him back quickly.

Fingers which had been swiping steadily, reading warnings and side effects with the same attention to detail as to mission reports providing intel before an operation, slowed and then stopped as he continued to read. After a moment his screen goes dark and your future shifts and locks into place on the other side of the world.

. . .

It was edging into evening just over a week later when the front door swings open and in steps Kyle. You immediately throw yourself into his arms and begin fussing, hugging him and checking for any new injuries at the same time. He just laughs and squeezes you back tightly. “I’m fine love, just happy to be able to hold you again.”

After sorting out the immediate concerns you tumble into bed, cuddling face to face and sharing a pillow, sharing breath. You’re not sure who kissed who first but you’re both tied for ardor. Your tongues tangled together as hands slide under clothes and down pants. Before things got too involved you pulled back to look at him. “You’re going to have to pull out. This medicine can affect my birth control so you can’t come inside me okay?”

He nodded eagerly as he began to pull your shirt up your torso, fingertips dragging along skin in their own version of a kiss. “Pull out, got it.” He said distractedly, glancing down at the skin and softness he was uncovering. Before you knew it you were both naked and he moved his way down your body, taking his time to slowly work you up. Spending time nibbling along your coller bones, sucking a bruise into the hollow of your throat, tonguing around your neck to the other side to continue.

What follows is hours of pleasure and torture in equal measure. Kyle has never been a stingy lover but tonight it’s like he has something to prove. He brings you to your peak again and again and again . . . and then he holds you there.

While the two of you had dabbled in edging before this, it had never been to this extreme. Tonight had been hours of cruel pleasure, the sheets under you were damp with sweat and you were sobbing with your hands buried in his hair.

“Pl-please,” you hiccup on a sob “I need to come. Please let me-let me come.” you beg him, trying to maintain eye contact through your tears. He currently had three fingers buried deep in your cunt and his lips suctioned to your clit.

His lips pop off with a slurp and you yelp.“Do you need it, baby?” He grins with a feverish gleam in his eyes. “You ready to come?” You nod eagerly, blinking and causing the tears to spill over your lash line.

“Please, please I’ve been good. I’ve been so good, please let me come.”

“God you beg so pretty baby. Okay, but I want to come together.” He climbs to the head of the bed and lays on his back. He grabs you by the hips and helps you climb on top, slotting himself back at you entrance. “Come on, up on top love, thats it.” he babbles as you sink to the base and gasp at the feeling of being stuffed full. “Yes, Just like that, just like that.” is wrung from his throat as you squeeze him tightly.

You begin to pump your hips, pulling away from him before bringing yourself back down but you quickly lose steam. It had been hours at this point and you were on your last legs.

“I know.” Kyle coos condescendingly, brushing the back of his knuckles over your cheek, wiping away tears, sweat and drool. “I know sweet thing, you’re so tired. It’s gonna be okay. Look, I’ll help you.”

He reaches both hands down to your hips, digging his fingers into soft skin and plush rolls. His fingertips causing divots where they press into the fat of your hips. He pulls you into a grinding motion, “Doesn’t that feel good baby? Me holding your hips just right, helping you grind back and forth?”

You nod dumbly, brain fried and only able to think of how good he feels inside you. He drops one of his thumbs down to find your clit, giving it steady, smooth circles to help you finish.

“Yeah? Right there? I can tell it’s good just by your face. I love that fucking face that you’re making.” His mouth begins to run, words dropping out with no prior planning. “If I could tattoo it behind my eyes and carry it around with me for the rest of my life I would die a happy man. You make me so damn happy baby.” He grunts as he begins to move your hips faster, grinding you down firmly against him. “I want you forever, do you hear me? Forever. It’s you and me okay? Yeah, you’re getting close? I am too, love. Mmmm fuck. Just like that, keep rocking your hips baby and you’re gonna make me come. God you’re taking me so well. Tucked up, deep inside you.” His jaw clenches and he pulls you as tightly against him as he can.

“Fuck. I’m gonna come love. You’re gonna make me come.” His words stutter to a close as you continue to grind, chasing the final edge. You could feel it tingling up your legs, across the backs of your thighs.

“Im so close,” you pant, head tilted back, eyes closed, unable to think of anything accept the feel of his cock bumping into your soft walls, creating sparks of pleasure. “Don’t stop baby. I’m so close. I can’t stop. Please”

A groan punches out of Kyle and his grip turn tight enough to leave fingerprint bruises to find in the morning. “If you don’t want me filling you up, you gotta get off baby. I know you’re close but you’re gonna make me come. You told me to pull out just to, just to be safe. I can’t-i cant hold it baby. You’ve gotta get - get off or it’ll all be inside.”

He starts to stutter and lose rhythm still pulling you into him, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

You don’t hear him. A roar is building in your ears, a white noise type of hum that is blocking out everything else. You can feel your release digging its claws into you down to your bones as it gets ready to wrench you from your body.

Your knees begin to shake from their place beside Kyle’s hips as you finally get what you’ve been working towards for the past however many hours. Your vision whites out and your mind blanks.

You clench around Kyle’s cock. warm gummy walls pulsing around him, drawing him inside. You’re grinding down on him as hard as possible, his tip pressed against the back of your channel.

His eyes hold an unusual gleam right before he closes his eyes and tilts his head back, groaning his release as he pumps everything inside of you.

Later when you’re spooned together, his arms wrapped around your waist and legs tangled together, you don’t notice him cupping his hand around your lower stomach. He falls asleep with a smile on his face as he imagines his future together, with all three of you.

#nobody look at me #jk I actually love this #we need more gaz fics in the world #this handsome man can make all the babies he’d like 🥵#you just know they’d be cute #fanfic #cod #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #simon riley x reader

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ihavethedreamies · 1 day

Text

In the Doghouse | Yeosang

Kang Yeosang - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.8k

Pairing: Dog-Hybrid!Yeosang x Cat-Hybrid!AFAB!Reader

Genre: Hybrid AU!, Historical/Period, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Friends-to-Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Kitten, Love), Swearing, Kissing, Biting/Marking, Bonding/Mating, Heat/Rut, Pheromones, Oral (F! Receiving), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Breeding Kink (u3u)

Trigger Warning: There is some talk of abuse and/or neglect in this. It doesn't go into detail, but the reader in beginning is living with a cruel relative. It's not related to Yeosang or the relationship between the two. Also, Yeosang is a 'Police Dog', but there is very little talk of police and cops.

Author's Note: This is NOT Omegaverse, but they do both go into rut/heat. They have animals ears and tails and he's got a knotted doggy cock. Yeosang is supposed to be a Doberman, even though the breed wasn't in this time period. This is set in the late Victorian Era of London, and sorry if it's not completely accurate to the time.

I will be doing all the members and uploading them as I go. I normally like to upload a whole series at a time but I'm trying to pack to move.

🦁 Hongjoong's 🦁

🐻 Jongho's 🐻

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"Geddat fuckin' cat!" You heard the storekeeper’s shout echo through the narrow street as you dashed in the opposite direction. You clutched the bag closer to you, hoping to hide it from prying eyes. You purposefully wrapped your tail around your leg, hoping to make it less obvious, ears flattening to your head to blend in with your hair. Turning a narrow corner into an alley, you heard some footsteps against the cobblestone behind you, but they ran past where you had entered. Leaving the alley into the opposite street, you turned the way you had come, back toward your house. Sliding into another back alley, you placed the strings of the bag in your mouth. Without stopping, you jumped up onto the ladder hanging down from your second-story window. Climbing up the rungs, you pulled the window open all the way and jumped into your bedroom. Unhooking the rope and wood ladder from the windowsill, you reeled it in and shut the window. Panting for breath, you rested against the wall, sliding down so you were sitting on the floor. Heaving for air, you glanced at the bag that you had brought it, laying in a heap on the floor under the window. Finally, when you could breathe easily enough, you got on your knees so you could reach and grab the sack, opening it. Inside, the two loaves of bread were still steaming and your stomach rumbled in desire.

"Man, I wanna fish…" You sniffed in displeasure, tail whipping angrily behind you. It was bad enough you had to steal food to eat, but all you could typically manage was some bread or maybe potatoes. As you stood to close your door so you could enjoy your haul, you heard banging from downstairs. Someone was pounding on the door. You heard your aunt call for the person to hold on and you stood still, staring at the open door of your bedroom. Did they really find you? They never had before…

"Hello, madam. I hate to bother you, but I was told that a thief might have made their way into your second story window." You heard from down the hall, at the base of the stairs. Your eyes widened in panic and you prayed that your aunt would cover for you. Fat chance.

"Second story? You've got to… (Y/N) get down here, right now!" She screeched and your ears flattened at the noise. Stepping forward as quietly as you could, you stuck your head out just enough to look past the door frame to see your aunt standing halfway up the stairs. Her own tail was swinging back and forth with ire and her arms were crossed. The nastiest look you had ever seen was on her face and you clicked your tongue.

"What did you steal this time, you lazy stray!" She hissed and you shuffled out of the room, bag hanging limply from your hand at your side. There was a man in a police uniform in the doorway, and next to him…A dog hybrid. He was…beautiful, honestly. Prettier than you for sure. His hair was longer, with a slight wave at the end of the black strands, two tall, pointed ears sticking out from the top of his head. You couldn't see a tail, so it was probably docked into a nub. The hairs at the back of your neck and base of your tail rose, shoulders tensing as you got to the top of the staircase. His sharp eyes met yours, and you knew that's how they found you. Fucking police dogs…

"Give me that!" Your aunt swiped the bag from you, her claw-like nails scratching your hands, making you pull them back. Holding your other hand over the red marks, you glared hard at her when she opened the sack.

"Bread?! You stole bread?!" She hissed, fierce eyes searing holes into your skull.

"Maybe if you didn't fuckin' starve me, I wudduna had ta'!" You hissed back and you flinched as you saw her raise her hand.

"Now, madam, it’s nothing to harm her over. We'll take her to the station." A smooth, deep voice prompted you to open your eyes, seeing the guard dog holding the wrist of your nasty aunt. His grip was loose, so as not to dig his thick claws into your aunt's skin. He should have though… Your aunt took her arm away from him when he let her go and you were more willing to go with him then stay there any longer. Honestly, jail would be a welcome change. You followed the dog down the stairs and your aunt went as well, handing the stolen loaves to the human officer. With a strong hand on your bicep, the police dog led you further down the street, his partner following.

"Did you really steal because she starves you?" The elder officer asked you, his tone gentler than you expected. Your aunt wasn't poor, by any means, but you lived in what was equivalent to a storage room.

"I get a potato every other day if I don't." Your tail flicked nervously, ear flicking when a drop of water hit it. Glancing up at the sky, you sneered at the gathering clouds, feeling another drop land on your face. You wiggled your nose, feeling the drop most likely wash a trail of dirt off your face.

"She doesn't feed you any meat?" The dog furrowed his brow, letting you go, eyes zigzagging over you. It was evident your clothes were somehow too big and too small at the same time, and your boots were old.

"Alley bastards don't deserve meat." You spat out the words you were so used to hearing. It wasn't your fault that your mother slept with a commoner, but your aunt and grandparents took it out on you. The only reason your mother's sister took you in was because she got a tax cut for listing you as living with her.

"How old are you, Miss (Y/N)?" The human officer asked.

"Twenty…somethin'…" You weren't for sure, never celebrated your birthday.

"I think the baker will be willing to forgive if we return the bread. Yeosang?" The officer looked at the dog and you did as well.

"The poverty shelter doesn't take cats, does it? Just dogs?"

"Yessir." The dog, Yeosang, sighed, glancing back to you. The rain seemed to be waiting as well, only a few drops falling as you looked nervously between the two men. What were they going to do with you?

"She could stay with me, if that is alright with her." Yeosang cast you a look, his gaze warm and you blinked in shock. Charity? Wow, you had heard of it before…

"Any where’s better than auntie's…" Your tail was still whipping and the elder officer nodded with a hum.

"Thank you, son. You may get off your shift early. Make sure she gets a good hot meal." The human smiled warmly himself and headed off toward the bakery, bread bag in hand.

"Are ya sure? I'm notta hassle?"

"No, kitten. Let's get you some meat." The hand that had been on your arm went to your upper back so he could pull you to walk next to him, then he led you presumably to his home. Right as you got under the awning over his front door, the rain started to pour.

***

"Slow down, love. There's plenty." The dog was way gentler with you than you expected. His home was nice and warm, cozy, and smelled good. He had presented you with bread that he had bought the day before, as well as some cured meats, cheese, even some fruit. Not sure where to start, you reached carefully for a slice of summer sausage and then your vision went red, your appetite raring to full force. Yeosang huffed in amusement, able to hear the rapid purr you let out as you ate. When he had removed his uniform coat, he just had on a thin white button up underneath. The shirt did very little to hide the obvious muscle underneath, the buttons struggling to hold still over his chest. As you had started to eat, he rolled the sleeves up to above his elbow, showing toned forearms. He ate more leisurely, and once you were no longer ravenous, you slowed your pace. You took each chance you got to look over him, he was absolutely stunning.

"Yer' from the far east, yah?" You asked around a mouthful of different things you had just shoved in. He hummed with a nod and your eyes flicked to the water ewer he had set on the table and he poured some into a stein. Eagerly taking the drink, you chugged it down, a little bit of the water dripping past your bottom lip. Letting you a groaning exhale after you had gotten everything down, you slumped in your chair. You hadn't felt so full in so long and you weren't expecting to get a nice meal when you stole the bread.

"Are ya' like…a saint or somethin?" You asked, not sure why he would help you.

"Pardon me?"

"You know, like those folks in the Bible that help…saints or whatever…" Your nail clicked against the glass cup you were holding. You weren't very educated, but you tried to retain what little bit of information you had learned.

"Oh, um, no. I think I would just qualify as generous." He smiled bashfully and you let out an 'ah' in realization.

"Thanks for the meal…I um, I don't want to go home but…"

"You don't have to go back there, kitten." The dog smiled, his own pointed ear drooping a bit along with his pitying gaze. Normally that look pissed you off, but you just felt bashful then.

"Do you have somewhere I can go, then?"

"I told you; you can stay here. I have a spare room anyway. It's hard for women to find work, harder yet for a cat hybrid…" He paused to think it seemed.

"I-I can clean! Or, uh…well, I'm good at physical stuff, I can run…places." You weren't sure what else specifically you could do, your only 'skill' was cleaning. Or stealing.

"If you want to help with housekeeping, that's up to you. I am more worried how people might see a man and woman living together outside of marriage." The dog grimaced a bit.

"Oh. Right." You hadn't thought about that… It was one thing for normal everyday people, but he was a public officer.

"What if ya’ hire me? As yer' official housekeep? That wouldn't look suspect, yeah?" You offered.

"That would probably work. For now. Here." He stood up, motioning for you to follow him. You did so, going toward the narrow front entryway and then up the steep stairs to his second floor. There was a room to the left, but he let you into the one on the right, the door right on the landing. It was pretty bare, and to most, small. However, it was way bigger than where you had been before and had a real bed.

"I-I can really stay here?" You felt your throat tighten, stepping further in.

"Of course, love. Tomorrow we can figure out the details, why don't you get some sleep?" You turned back to look at him, that warm and sincere smile still present. Overcome with emotion, you pounced forward, wrapping your arms around his toned middle, cheek to his chest.

"Thank you, Yeosang!" You sniffed, trying not to bawl. He rested his hand on your head, thumb rubbing the back of your ear.

"You're welcome, (Y/N)."

~*~*~

Over the next two months, you lived the best days of your life. Yeosang had commented that his house had never looked so clean, even though it wasn't messy before. After the third day there, and you had thrown up from overeating, you paced yourself more. Finally, you were used to being well fed, and you no longer looked like you were actually starving. The second week you were there, he had taken you to a tailor and bought you two new outfits, ones that actually fit. You preferred the simple shirt and pants, but he also got you a simple dress that was a soft blue. You cried. You had been crying a lot, so touched by how sweet he was being.

One day, you were in the market to buy a few things. No one that you had stolen from in the past knew it was you. Combined with being healthy and clean, you were also in a nice dress and your hair was done.

"(Y/N)!?" The voice made you stop cold, hand still reaching for a squash on the seller's stall table. Your aunt.

"You stupid twat!" She screeched and before you registered where she was, her hand was in your hair, claws scratching your scalp. You yowled, dropping your basket, potatoes and apples rolling away. People gasped, turning to watch the fight, but not stepping in to help.

"I've had to pay more than ever now that you left! I had to pay a bloody fine as well, endangering a ward or something! You little whore! I know you're living with a man not your husband! What would your mother think, you raising your tail for a dog?!" She was screaming, hissing and spitting. You tried to get her to let you go, but not wanting to fight and ruin your dress. You knew the words she was speaking weren't true, but the people around didn't, and you didn't want the negative gossip to get back to Yeosang. When a blowing whistle hit your ears, you mewled in relief, rapid footsteps nearing. The horrible woman was pulled away from you, and you slumped into a pile, holding your head.

"(Y/N), are you okay, love?" Yeosang was quick to your side, looking over your head. A growl was rumbling in his chest as he shot a searing glare at the other woman. You didn't look up to see who the other officers were subduing her, burying your head in Yeosang's chest to hide.

"Oh, kitten." He whined, holding you to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he easily lifted you, carrying you toward home, ignoring the stares and whispers.

As you sat on the table, he dabbed at the scratches with a cloth dipped in alcohol, the disinfectant stinging. You winced again and he apologized, trying to be gentle.

"Did you hear what she said?" you whispered. Your eyes were glossing over the bottle next to you, brain trying to process the letters you saw. Yeosang had been teaching you, but you could only read the big word, 'VODKA'.

"It's not true, so it doesn't matter." he whispered back.

"Maybe…I should leave?" Your voice cracked, really not wanting to follow through with the suggestion. The cloth on your head left and he stepped back, hand on your chin to tilt your head back. He looked over your face, noticing your red blotchy cheeks and glossy eyes.

"Why?"

"Because…what if it comes back and hurts you…?" You sniffed, trying to avoid his eyes. His hand left your chin, but then both went to cup your cheeks.

"(Y/N), kitten, I would be heartbroken if you left." The dog's deep voice was so warm, soft, like his hugs.

"Yeah?" He wiped a tear away from your eye and smiled, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to yours.

"Yes. If you're so worried…" He drifted off, one hand leaving your jaw to take yours.

"What if we get married?" He finished and it was like time stopped. Your ears started to ring and you slowly lifted your head back up to look him in the eye again.

"What?" Your voice was so soft that if he wasn't a dog or another hybrid, he probably wouldn't have heard.

"(Y/N), I know it's only been a couple months, but I've fallen in love with you. I want you to stay with me." He brought your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles. You burst into tears then, crying hard, harder than you had before, babbling nonsense.

"I-I-I want to stay too!" You cried and he pulled you into his chest, thumb rubbing the back of your ear.

"Then?"

"I wanna be your wife." You mumbled, sniffing hard so you didn't drip snot on his uniform shirt.

The next few minutes were nearly a blur, your mind finally caught up as your back hit his bed, his lips fervently pressing to yours. His breath was heaving, chest rumbling and his sandalwood and rosewater scent was growing stronger. You felt like he was going to swallow you whole, and you wondered why it was said cats and dogs didn't get along. You had never felt so loved unconditionally and wholly but by Yeosang, a dog, despite that you were a cat. An alley cat at that. In that moment though, you truly saw him as a big, strong working dog, easily surrounding the little stray cat that had been taken into his home. But instead of growling and scaring the little kitty, the big pup had laid down and wrapped around the small cat, protecting and loving her.

"Your tongue's rough." He huffed in amusement, only pulling back a second before his mouth sealed back to yours, tongue wrapping around your smaller one. You whimpered and mewled, head growing hazy from his kisses. Your back arched as his mouth left yours, trailing to your jaw and down to your neck. As he unbuttoned your dress, he licked and sucked over the skin revealed, tugging at the fabric to get it over your breasts so he could shuck it off. The dress floated down to the floor behind him, settling on the floor with a flutter. Once you were down to your undergarments, nothing more than a thin chemise and light set of stays, he sat up to kneel over you. He had luckily taken his uniform jacket off earlier, because in his haste to remove his shirt, two of the buttons flew off, clattering against the wood floor. You had seen him shirtless before, but never had the chance to touch, so you had to take the chance. Yeosang chuckled, his ears drooping a bit in pleasure as your small, warm hands ran over the smooth skin of his chest and stomach. He really was physical perfection. Biting your lip, your hands went to work on his belt and he took the chance to untie your stays. You felt a little more air flow easier threw your lungs as he pulled the garment off and you squeaked as he moved. Quickly, so quickly, he pulled your chemise off as well, leaving you bare, and essentially picked you up and tossed you back up the bed. As you tried to get your bearings, you didn’t notice him resting his stomach on the bed.

“Y-Yeosang!” Your nails dug fast into the sheets as his long tongue lapped a path through your slit. A growl rumbled from him and his hands held your thighs apart so he could slide his tongue into your cunt, the feeling made you twitch and shiver. He was breathing so hard through his nose you felt the puffs of air against your clit, tail flicking against the bed. Something was rising fast in your tummy, and he could feel your gummy walls clench unevenly around his tongue. The dog’s nose bumped your clit once more and you nearly squealed as your orgasm hit. He eagerly drank up the slick that flowed from you, licking his chops as he pulled away once you were done. He smiled down at you, softly, admiring your red face and heaving chest. Before you could really come to reality, he had flipped you onto your stomach. There was some rustling, and you had been too busy trying to register what had just happened, the next thing you knew, his bare body was laying over yours. He didn't rest down too hard, he was bigger and heavier, but you shivered at his skin on yours, hard chest to your back. You shivered as his hard cock nestled in the crook your ass.

"Big as my fuckin' arm…" You huffed to yourself and he chuckled, biting his lip, chest rumbling.

"Think your sweet cunt can take it?" His deep voice right in your ear was in itself orgasmic and your core was rapidly heating. You were pretty sure you hadn't had a heat in so long from being in poor health, and so it seemed your system needed to compensate. Your whole body was rapidly rising in temperature, he could tell from where his skin pressed to yours. The delightful scent of vanilla and lavender you normally exuded was growing stronger, the aroma filling his lungs. You whimpered when his strong arm wrapped under your stomach, lifting your hips into the air as he grinded his cock against your weeping folds. He wasn't normally one for crass language like you, but he was spewing sweet filth as you tried to formulate a thought to respond. The heat was nearly growing painful, and even though he was huge and you inexperienced, you needed him inside.

"Such a pretty pussy, kitten. Bet it's leaking so much to let me in. Take my cock and my knot." He groaned when he ran his thumb up your slit, gathering your slick that was nearly dripping from your core.

"Want me to ruin your cunt, love? Split you open, fuck you silly, then pump you full. I wonder if a kitty can even get pregnant by a dog. Guess we'll find out…" It seemed your heat was sending him into a semi-rut, his mind was full of nothing but sinking into you and fucking you into the mattress. He had honestly wanted to for weeks but had tried to keep the thoughts away.

"Y-Yeosang! Please!" You mewled, nails digging into his pillow, tail flailing back and forth. You yowled when his strong hand grabbed your tail at the base, wrapping some of the length around his fist, tugging on it. He smirked as your cunt let out another glob of slick from the sensation, your rapid purr growing in strength.

"Not just my wife, but my mate. Want your womb to hold my pups." The male chuckled, adjusting to press the fat head of his leaking cock against your core. You shivered, a bit worried he was too big, but you needed him. And his knot.

"Hold on, kitten." He licked his lips to prevent the saliva that had gathered from leaking, holding the base of your tail and hip for leverage. Your breath hitched, cunt spasming as he started to press in. He watched in delight as your folds eagerly stretched and sucked his cock in, even more slick spilling out, leaving a puddle on his bed. The base of his cock had already started to swell a bit, but he wasn't going to knot you so soon. No, he was going to have his way with you for a good long while first.

"Fuck!" You squealed, claws puncturing his bedding, teeth digging into the pillow. His hot cock was searing through you, the burn of the stretch just fueling the fire in your womb further. Tears sprung to your eyes and you gasped for air, intense waves of pleasure crashing over you, sending you to climax before he was even halfway in. Yeosang felt your gummy walls clench and pulse around him, and he threw his head back, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he groaned. The grip on your tail tightened just a bit and you keened at his slow ease, but his restraint was wavering.

"J-just do it, 'Sang~" You mewled, sparks of arousal shooting up your spine from your tail. He didn't hesitate with your consent, and he snapped his hips to bury the last few inches into your hot vice. Your vision spotted as the head of his dick pressed at your womb, hips pressed to your backside. He sat there for a bit, letting you get used to the searing pleasure, grinding down into you every so often. As he heard your breathing even out a bit more, you let out a big shudder and he released your tail, falling forward so his hands caught him on the bed. The dog let out a small whimper, furrowing his brow. A clawed hand went to your sternum and he helped you hold yourself up on your arms so your back was parallel to his chest. His nose ran over your shoulder, right new to your neck and your body tensed in preparation, your cunt tightening even further. With a little lick, his teeth dug into your skin, and he sucked and licked as he bit, sealing you as his mate. Your eyes rolled back into your head, most of your strength leaving you as you came again, spurts of slick drenching his groin and balls. Pulling back from the mark, he licked the blood away and you fell onto your chest, using what little strength you had left to grip the already torn sheets.

"Ready?" He didn't wait for your response, slowly puling his hips back, cock halfway in, then fucked back into you. You yelped, his rapid and hard pace was immediate, no build up, and your brain ended up as fucked as your cunt. You were babbling and mewling, tail thrashing before he gripped it once more, holding your hips still as his battered against your ass. His free hand snaked down to your stomach, and he groaned at the shallow bulge that would form each time he buried to the hilt, your tiny body straining to take him. You bit the pillow again, using it to muffle your scream as he plowed through another one of your orgasms. His thrusts grew shallower, burying deep each time and fucking back in just by an inch, hard and grinding. Your eyes crossed when the base of your core started to burn once more, pussy searing as his knot started to swell. He whimpered between grunts and growls, head thrown back, sweat slick black strands tickling his upper back.

"I'm going to breed you, kitten. Fill you with my seed till you have my pups. Even if it takes all night." He groaned as your cunt fluttered once more and he gave one more hard thrust, letting his knot swell. You gasped and heaved at the feeling; he hadn't even begun to cum yet. When the hot spurts started to fill you, flooding your weeping womb, you nearly passed out. The sticky fluid dowsed the fire that your body had set and his hips jolted with each squirt, pressing as deep as he could. As the waves of his orgasm faded, he let your tail go, falling forward once more, heaving for breath himself. You were breathing heavily, but otherwise quiet and he glanced down to look at your face. You were still conscious, barely, eyes staring blankly at the wall, tears drying on your cheek and drool had left a dark spot under your mouth. Gently, so much so compared to his rough fucking, he pet your hair, pulling a few strands away from your sweaty brow.

"I love you, (Y/N)." He whispered and he noticed your lips quirk gently into a small smile.

"Love you too~"

🦁 Hongjoong's 🦁

🐻 Jongho's 🐻

Master-Master List

ATEEZ Master List

#ihavethedreamies #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop smut #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #x reader #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez yeosang #yeosang fluff #yeosang smut #yeosang x reader #yeosang fanfic #kang yeosang

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definesanity · 3 days

Text

Lords and Dames That Sung in The Chapels on a Sunday

There was a library in Laplace, which many borrowed books from. Likewise, there is one in the SPDM, too.

Due to circumstances, the one from the former to had to help the latter, leaving Mesmer Jr. to take the part as the librarian in Laplace.

Which also meant she had to deal with the genius herself.

Every so often, at the exact same time, she always came by. Either to borrow or return a book, and always making sure to say at least one thing to Mesmer Jr. before she left.

It made her want to tear out Vertin's throat and--

Vertin came towards the desk, holding a borrowed book. "Good day, Mesmer Jr."

"...Good day, Vertin." replied the girl who did not want any interaction with any Arcanist ever. "Returning?"

"Yes, I am," she passed over the book to the Mesmer child. "I found it quite interesting, if quite morbid."

It was, of all things, a book detailing Jack The Ripper. Insane.

Mesmer's expression did not shift, but she did look from the book to Vertin. "I did not expect you to enjoy such grotesque stories, Miss Vertin."

"I don't, really," she replied, face equally stoney. "But I found it interesting on the many factors involved with the cases in 1888 Whitechapel."

"'Factors', you say?" Mesmer Jr. replied. No one else was in the library, meaning she had to keep the conversation going. "Like what? The police dogs?"

"Indeed," Vertin nodded, which was not what Mesmer was expecting. "The Metropolitan police failed with a number of aspects; using bloodhounds was one of them."

"I hope you realise that the story isn't true."

"I know, yes; I still find it intriguing. Moreso when you consider the fact we still know not many details of Jack the Ripper."

"And why, pray tell, are you so enamoured with that madman?"

Vertin shrugged. "A current interest. And, it helps to converse with others."

"Ah, yes. Because people would love to discuss serial killers." Mesmer rolled her eyes.

"And what we are doing right now, then?"

"..." Mesmer paused. Then, placed the book back on the shelf. "Are you here to borrow another book, Miss Vertin?"

"No, just wanted to return it." Vertin gave a smile and a bow. "Good day."

She started to walk out.

After a moment, Mesmer followed after her.

"You appearing every day is a plot, isn't it?"

Vertin shook her head. "Not at all."

"You had never used the library prior to my starting there. You must have a reason behind it."

"..." Vertin looked, for once, conflicted. Eventually, she gave a short sigh. "A guilty consciousness. That is all."

"And who's fault is that, hm?" Mesmer Jr replied, her tone clipped. "Need I remind you of--?"

"Mesmer." Vertin's voice cut her off. It was quiet, but Mesmer could hear anger in it.

"Oh? Touched a nerve, did I? I'm surprised that exposed nerve hasn't healed yet, all these years later."

"Mesmer, I'm warning you." Vertin's expression was stormy, eyes narrowed.

"Now you're warning, huh? Could have saved a group of innocent children, had you warned us!" she wasn't shouting, but her voice had been raised.

"Mesmer."

"Oh, no, but you thought you had everything planned out, didn't you?! Our dear little girl, our dear little genius, a leader for a group of children!"

"Mesmer!"

"And look where we are now, Vertin:" she stared directly at Vertin, hatred in her eyes. "Us, alive. And Isabella and The Ring? De--"

SLAP.

It took both parties to register what had happened. Vertin was the first, eyes filled with fury. "THE FOUNDATION KNEW, DAMN IT!"

Mesmer Jr. placed a hand near her right cheek, feeling a stinging sensation. "What did--?"

Vertin grabbed a hold of both of Mesmer Jr.'s hands, and slammed her against the wall, staring down at her, body shaking in pure, unadulterated, anger.

"Every move we made on that day, every fight, every step, even the timing in which we defeated Lilya? All planned by Constantine."

Mesmer had never seen this side of Vertin before. Like all bubbles, you can only make it grow so much before it bursts. And in this case, it bursted violently and swiftly.

"There was no way of knowing I'd lead them to their deaths!" Vertin exclaimed, their voice now slightly hysterical from 4 years worth of repressed feelings and emotions. "And no way in knowing I'd become the Timekeeper!"

She squeezed hard on Mesmer's arms, and the girl knew it would leave rashes. "So for once, in your goddamn life, DON'T. RUSH. TO CONCLUSIONS."

With a rough sigh, she let go of Mesmer Jr's arms. And, without looking back, left.

Mesmer slid down the wall, and looked at her arms. Peeling back the sleeves, she saw red start to form.

She should be hateful. She should go and report Vertin. Heck, she can, right now.

...But then...

Why is it that she feels...

...She deserves this?

----------------

She did not often use Arcanium. But this was an exception.

She used it to stop the rashes from vanishing from her arms, and spent the next day trying to figure out what was going on.

Mesmer Jr. thought on Vertin. Not the Timekeeper, not that small, idiotic child, but Vertin.

And found that, no matter how hard she could, she could not feel any distate towards her. If she tried, all she felt would be... an empty feeling.

Vertin was just... Vertin. A girl thrust into a role she did not want.

Like herself, in some ways.

She rolled down her sleeves, and got to work.

She thought during it, too.

Arcanists were chaotic, it's in their nature.

It was Constantine who showed her that...

She stopped dead in her tracks in her room.

Was that... also apart of what happened--?

"That's a curious expression."

She turned to face the intruder, a mask set immediately. "Get out, X."

X did not listen, that smile on his lips taunting her. "You know, being a researcher, my field often overlaps with others. In this case, I can safely say I can fully understand that you're experiencing some... interesting emotions."

"..." Mesmer Jr. sighed. "No, you know what? I don't have enough energy to deal with you. Good day."

She slammed her head into the desk, and as planned, fell unconscious.

--------------------------------

She woke back up in her own bed. She could tell it was, because she was the only one to have air fresheners in her room.

Her eyes didn't have to adjust to the light, it being low in brightness, and saw a retreating figure.

One with a top hat.

"Wait." she rasped out.

Vertin stopped. Then, turned around.

"Hello, Mesmer." she said. "I... owe you an--"

"If you're going to apologise, then let me do it." she said, controlling her breathing as the headache (unexpected) began to set in. "I provoked you. It was only natural you'd respond, what with so much repressed emotions."

Vertin stayed silent, but she looked momentarily surprised. Not that Mesmer Jr. could blame her. She isn't one to be trustworthy, after everything.

"...What I'm trying to say is..." she breathed in and out, struggling to get the words out. Saying aorry is not something she often does. And for good reason. But in this case...

"...I'm... sorry, for my behaviour."

Vertin looked at her. And then, smiled. "Thank you for being honest. I also apologise, although that is for the..." she trailed off, and Mesmer rolled her eyes.

"I wouldn't have kept the rashes if I didn't want to. Whatever you did, it made me think on a number of things; the fact that I have never gotten to know Vertin was one of them."

Vertin, once more, looked quite surprised. "...If that is the case... when you have recovered, would you care to do that?"

Mesmer looked at Vertin. And, for a split second, Vertin swore she saw the lips of the girl upturn. "Provided there is coffee. It is not often that I indulge, and I want to make sure that I do not perish due to boredom during it."

Vertin gave a nod, smiling. And then left, leaving Mesmer Jr. alone once more with her thoughts.

She looked over to her bedside.

It was a music player, and it has a cassette in it. She leaned over and turned it on.

A song she did not recognise started to play. And the calmness to it, like being near a beach, lulled her into a sleep.

She did not recall the dream. But when she woke up, she found her lips in a smile.

--------------------------------------

She drank from her coffee slowly and carefully, taking time to enjoy every ounce of it.

As she said, she did not partake in it often. But if there is one thing Mesmer Jr. enjoys, it is the taste of espresso. A comfort, in a world of stupidity and nonsense...

Speaking of nonsensical, Mesmer Jr. looked at Vertin, who drank heartily from a cup of mocha.

The two sat in silence in the Suitcase. There was no one here but them.

Mesmer Jr. took the time to truly study Vertin. Her face was a healthy flush, and Mesmer could smell remains of soap and deodorant on her.

"For the record, pineapple does not suit you." Mesmer Jr. commented.

"It was the only one I had at that current moment." Vertin replied.

The two, once again, went into silence. It felt... strange. One was meant to hate the other and, yet, that very same person who sat there did, in fact, not hate the other one.

Hatred is an emotion that is something Mesmer feels often, mostly towards those in the ward. And, yet, she felt none towards Vertin.

And it annoys her greatly.

"If you don't mind me asking..." Vertin spoke up. "You have heard quite a bit about me, either thorough Laplace or the Foundation; so, would you like to share anything about yourself?"

"Not particularly," Mezmer Jr. immediately replied. "...But, since you are insisting, there was this one event I can remember from my childhood.

"When I was younger, I just so happened to write down my thoughts or any passing interests on pieces of paper. This came to bite me as, one day, my father noticed them and brought me downstairs.

"'Jane, Jane!' he yelled, waving the piece of paper in his hand. 'Look at how intelligent our daughter is! It is certainly a strange way of seeing the world, but one oh so interesting!'"

Mesmer Jr. looked deeply unimpressed. "My mother took the paper, gave it a quick glance, looked at my father, and said: 'James. These are the lyrics to Bohemian Rhapsody."

A small but noticeable snort came from Vertin upon hearing this.

"After that, I can't remember any more, because I was sent to the SPDM." she gave another sip of her coffee. "By the way, having all that sugar could lead to a heart attack."

Vertin immediately put the cube of sugar she had in her hand down. "And you?"

Mesmer Jr. took another sip. "I will be fine. I measured the exact amount I needed and used it."

"I've always noticed that you recall the times of ceratin things; it's rare to meet someone with a photographic memory."

"Well, congratulations to you." Mesmer Jr. remarked, and finished her drink. "..."

She looked away. And then, back. "...Thank you for the coffee, Vertin."

"My pleasure," Vertin smiled. And then stood up. "And, before you go..."

She passed a gift box to her. "Here. Sorry if it's nothing special."

Mesmer Jr. gave a non-committal hum and left the room.

She arrived back at her own in the Suitcase, and opened the box.

It was a plant. A very distinctive one, too.

Lycoris radiata. The red spider lily.

She could have simply returned it. And left it be. A memory.

Instead, she held it gently, and stared.

And stared.

And, then, as the stared, she noted a feeling inside of her stomach.

A flutter, as she stared at the gift in her hands.

Maybe...

---------------

They met again and again, over the course of three weeks.

During that time, Medicine Pocket was seen entering Mesmer Jr.'s room and later seen leaving via running out, their right hand broken. Both parties deny that Mesmer Jr. had any influence.

During it, both also thought more on each other.

Vertin saw Mesmer Jr. as an enigma, one that had many mysteries, and Vertin was curious about each and every one of them.

She was a girl that had so many things go wrong for her, and no one was there to help pick up the pieces. During that short time, Vertin felt as if she had gotten to know someone she both knew, and did not know both at the same time.

She... loved Mesmer Jr. And she knew that Mesmer would never return it.

To Mesmer Jr., she saw Vertin much like the flower she was given. Mesmer Jr. knew both of their hands were dirty with many deeds, but Mesmer Jr. learnt something during these interactions:

That fluttering was caused by intense emotional responses. In layman's terms, she... loved Vertin.

And that scared her, more than it did disgust her.

She did not want to become the one Vertin loved, as Mesmer did not want anything bad to happen to her.

Mesmer was afraid. Afraid and, she can admit to herself, cowardly.

And, yet...

That gentle embrace gave both new worries and made old ones vanish.

"Mesmer..."

The two stood in silence. A gentle one, once more.

And, very slowly, Mesmer held Vertin, too.

"...Jane."

"Hm?" Vertin looked at Mesmer, who looked back.

"When it is merely you and I, call me by my first name."

Vertin nodded. And smiled to herself.

Jane Mesmer Jr. What a beautiful name.

------------------------------------------

The door opened, and Vertin looked up. "Hello, Jane."

"Don't." Mesmer said, sitting down on her bed. "I know that I said I wanted to try and talk to other Arcanists, why did you stick me with Regulus?"

"She was the only one available."

"..." Mesmer sat in silence. Then, looked up. "My term as the temporary librarian has come to a close. I was informed on my way back five minutes and thirty-one seconds ago."

"Shame," Vertin said. "I... enjoyed you being there."

"You only did to come and see me. And, besides, Jack the Ripper?"

"It was the only book I saw at the time," Vertin tried to defend herself.

Still, Mesmer looked at her. And then, sighed. "I suppose... as far as Arcanists go, anyways... you..."

"..."

"...'

Mesmer looked at Vertin, a very small, but still there, smile on her face. "You are... alright, I suppose."

#ryuusei's works #reverse 1999 #r1999 #vertin #mesmer jr #mesmervert #mestin #mesvert #which one is it lmao

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