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dfortrafalgar · 6 months

Text

Chilly

Convincing Law to take a break for one day is like talking to a concrete wall. Good thing you have the personality of a jackhammer.

Law x Fem Reader

Warnings: fluff fluff and more fluff, snow day, domestic bliss, just fun and fluffy all around, snowball fights with the heart pirates, soft law <3

Also posted on AO3

No one even bothered to ask Law if he wanted to join the crew on land and partake in some relaxing winter activities. Everyone knew what the answer would be: a stern, pensive stare and a quick, firm, “Absolutely not.” Especially not when the aforementioned winter weather sprung up completely out of nowhere, while the Polar Tang was moored at an unassuming island tucked away behind a seaside cliff. It was warm and pleasant the day before, so waking up to a deep blanket of snow on land completely ruined Law’s plans. Heart Pirate Rule #283 (estimates vary), no one could try to change Law’s mind about an activity when his prior commitments were already ruined.

When Law opened the heavy door to his office and stepped into the hallway, he was met with an unsurprising, deathly silence. Through one of the small portholes in the hull of the submarine, he could spot a few of his crew engaged in a very intense snowball fight. The captain’s piercing gold eyes locked onto Uni the second he took a rock-filled snowball directly to the face. With a ‘tsk’ through his teeth, he made his way to the galley for another cup of coffee. He assumed the entire ship was empty, and was caught by surprise at the sight of you standing at the wash basin in the kitchen with your hands under a steady stream of warm water from the tap. You glanced over your shoulder at the sound of Law’s footsteps entering the room.

“Hi, baby!” you called. Law could barely see your face from the angle you were standing at, but he could hear the bright smile that accompanied your words. “Enjoying the snow day?”

Law learned early in your relationship that it was futile to fight the content grin that crawled over his lips whenever he heard the sound of your voice. He meandered over to you, planting a chaste kiss into your hair. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

It was easy to pick up on the gruff tone of his tired voice. “I’m sorry, Law. I know it’s annoying for you when things happen so suddenly.”

Your sympathetic words brought mild relief to the stress filling Law’s aching head. As he started the electric coffee pot on the nearby countertop, he finally glanced over to see your hands under the sink faucet. A deep gash in the palm of your left hand was slowly leaking blood as you washed it. The tips of your fingers looked dry.

“What happened?” he immediately questioned, abandoning his coffee and stepping back toward you. He grabbed a few paper towels from a drawer, reaching over you to turn off the tap and grabbed your hands in his, gently applying pressure to your wound.

You grinned at his actions, but your eyebrows were knit together apologetically. “It’s nothing major, I was stupid and went outside without gloves on. I cut my hand on a rock trying to catch a snowball.”

Law’s medical instincts had completely taken over as he sat you down at the galley dining table, locating one of the many first aid boxes that were located around the submarine before returning to your side, kneeling at your feet and beginning to patch up your wound with antiseptic and a gauze wrap. “Leave it to those idiots to stuff rocks into snowballs. That’s how people lose their eyes.” He blew out an annoyed huff through his nostrils.

Your unoccupied hand reached forward to card your fingers through his tangled black locks of hair. “It’s stupid, but we’re pirates. Pirates do stupid things sometimes, don’t you think?”

Your boyfriend’s fingers lingered over your bandaged hand, ghosting across your palm before falling to his sides to pack up the first aid bin and return it to its original location. “I suppose you have a point.”

Silence fell over the two of you as you watched Law move around the galley, ditching the first aid box and returning to the faucet, peering into the sink to make sure there was no residual blood that might have splashed into the basin. He gave it a quick wipe-down out of precaution, before finally walking back to the electric coffee pot to load the reservoir with ground beans from a large plastic container. A smile danced over your lips watching his movements, reveling in the domestic bliss that rare moments like this provided.

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” you began.

“You probably know what I’m going to say,” he responded, picking up on your thoughts before they even left your mouth.

You sighed. “I know.”

Law turned his back to the coffee pot as he waited for the water to boil, leaning back against the counter to face you. His steely eyes softened at your saddened expression.

“I just think it would be fun to have you join us. How often do we get days to… I don’t know… have fun? To relax?” You knew your words would have little power against the man before you, given how routine-oriented and strict he kept his daily life. Even in a comfortable, romantic relationship with you, he still kept to his regular way of living, and very little could change that.

“Days like this set back projects by a mile,” Law muttered under his breath. “It would be a waste of time for me to go outside in the cold and watch my crew lob rocks at each other.”

You bit your lip slightly as your mind raced for any way to convince your beloved to drop his duties for one single day and instead try to enjoy himself in the company of his crew, his friends and family. “What if I help you later? What if you delegate tasks later this evening to everyone to lighten your load? What if–”

“Darling…”

“Law, I’m being serious! Everyone hates it when you keep yourself cramped in your room hunched over paperwork all day… I hate it! I don’t like seeing you stressed, and I know delays are frustrating but we’re pirates for crying out loud! You have the freedom to drop your responsibilities for even a few minutes and relax.” Your own voice raised ever so slightly in volume.

That word, the ‘F’ word, clearly had an effect on Law, given the way his shoulders stiffened. The only sound that followed your pleas was the gurgling of the coffee machine on the counter. His arms were crossed, eyebrows furrowed in thought as he stared back at you. You held eye contact with his intense glare, not backing down from your request. The two demons that sat on Law’s shoulder were having an all-out war with each other; one desperately begged for the cold captain to loosen up and enjoy himself, spend time with you and his crew, while the other told him he would be better off in his office, solitary, sipping on bitter coffee and scrawling chicken scratch into his log book.

Your eyes widened by a mere millimeter when you saw Law’s golden irises dart towards the porthole in the galley before instantly going back to you.

“I promise I’ll wear gloves,” you offered, your last remaining ammunition in this fleeting war of the mind.

A smirk cracked onto Law’s lips. “You win.”

“What?”

“You win. I’ll come outside with you.”

You launched to your feet, eyes wide with excitement. “You will?!”

“Yeah.”

Law’s arms were ready to embrace you as you skipped toward him, boots leaving wet puddles across the metal floor in your wake as you threw your arms around his neck, angelic laughter leaving your throat as you thanked him for nothing in particular. He squeezed your waist and gazed at you as you pulled away, eyes full of nothing but adoration for your happiness at such a miniscule agreement.

“Coffee can wait,” you demanded, linking your unbandaged hand with his and dragging him toward the ladder well to the top deck. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, wait,” Law tugged on your arm. “Gloves.”

You grumbled as you dug through a storage container filled with the crew’s seasonal accessories, pushing aside tacky hats and a few pairs of swimming goggles before producing a pair of insulated brown gloves. They were smudged with dry oil and smelled akin to death, but you pulled them into your hands anyway, taking care to avoid pulling on your bandages. Law pulled on his own jacket and gloves, changing out his shoes for a pair of heavier boots before following you up the ladder, onto the top deck, and out the main door into the cold, gray afternoon. He obediently followed your heels as you bounded down the gangway, heavy steps alerting your crewmates to your return.

“Captain! You’re alive!” Shachi called out, waving his hands in the air.

“How the hell did you manage to convince him to come outside?” Hakugan leaned over to you, exasperated judging by the sound of his voice.

Law had barely stepped foot into the layer of deep snow before he was tackled by a warm stone wall of white fur and an orange boiler suit. His hands reflexively landed on Bepo’s shoulders, trying to steady the two of them before the human man would topple to the ground.

“Captain! I’m so happy you’re joining us! I’m building a snowbear, you need to help me!” Bepo was rubbing his face into the side of Law’s head, leaving tufts of white fur behind that clung to the man’s black hair and feather-lined coat.

Their tender embrace was interrupted by a thud as a snowball planted itself behind Bepo’s head. The bear released Law from his vice-like grip and whirled around, not hesitating when he dipped down, scooped a generous mound of snow from the ground, molded it into a ball with his large paws, and reeled his arm back to return fire to the first person he laid eyes on.

Clione was the victim, taking the huge snowball to the groin as it arched through the thin air and landed with precision and a comedic, dense smack. The blonde doubled over with a pained grunt.

It didn’t take long for the fight to resume in full force, bald spots of snow being left in the ground as greedy hands scooped up larger and larger mounds of the frozen water to chuck at each other. Law’s eyes gazed between each member of his crew, before landing on Penguin who secretly pulled a rock out from his pocket, shoving it into the snowball he held in his gloved hand.

With a split second flash of blue light and a barely audible whisper from the captain, the snowball previously held by Penguin was now clutched in Law’s hand. The black-haired man reeled his arm back, throwing all of his energy into launching the snowball across the field toward Penguin, who took the blow to the chest. The surprise caused him to stumble backwards, falling onto his ass and leaving a plume of snow to puff around him with the impact. The Heart Pirates watched in awe as a mischievous smirk slowly appeared on Law’s mouth.

“No fair! You have a devil fruit advantage!” someone’s voice shouted from across the snow-covered field.

“And? You’ve sailed with me for long enough, use your head.”

Law leaned down to gather another mound of snow in his hands, eyes landing on you. As he motioned to lob the object in your direction, another snowball planted against his bicep, halting his movements. Ikkaku stood opposite him, an equally bright smile on her face as she shouted at you to return fire. He barely had time to look back at you when he was met with white powder directly to the face. He blindly threw his own snowball towards where you stood, grinning when he was met with the sound of your surprised yelp. He wiped the freeze from his face just in time for Ikkaku to awkwardly sprint through the deep snow toward where you lay on the ground, hollering that you were hit. You tossed a thumbs up into the air before letting your arm fall back down, laughing with Ikkaku over your sorry state.

More snowballs, some containing rocks and some without, continued to pelt against Law, who returned them with enthusiastic movement and a devilish grin. He tossed a glance over toward you, face flushing when he found his stare returned, a beautiful, relaxed smile dancing over your face.

—

Law yanked a damp towel off of his head, freeing his wet hair to the air of his room. A shiver went up his spine at the sensation of cold hair against the back of his neck. The sight made you laugh from where you sat on his bed, bundled in one of his sweatshirts that you had pulled over your knees, leaving only your sock feet visible.

He pulled a pair of ratty sweatpants over his legs before crawling on top of the bed with you, pulling you down by your shoulder into his chest. “I’m cold because of you,” he complained.

“And now you can be warm because of me!” you replied, voice light and airy as you snaked your arms around his waist and forced one of your legs in between his. A tangle of limbs lay on his mattress.

Law’s fingers played with the tips of your hair as he stared across his room at nothing.

“Thank you.” Your voice shook the man from his thoughts.

“Why are you thanking me?”

“Because you came outside with me today. Everyone had so much fun… it was nice.”

The tenderness of your tone pulled at Law’s heartstrings. It had never occurred to him until then how much his absence might have affected his crew, affected you, and so negatively at that. He had never seen his crew laugh as a collective until then, throwing snow before getting tired and resorting to building snow creatures or leaving imprints of their bodies in the plush, white freeze. Law even left one of his own, directly next to yours. The two images were connected where your hands would be, to remain there until the snow inevitably melted.

“I should be the one thanking you,” he mumbled into the crown of your head.

You giggled into his neck. “I love you.”

Law inhaled deeply through his nose, closing his eyes at the sound of your words. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, thoughts running rampant through his head. You weren’t expecting a response, he very rarely said those three words back to you, choosing instead to spoil you with his physical affection instead.

“I love you, too.”

#trafalgar d water law x reader #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #law x reader #fem reader #x reader #reader insert #law oneshot

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nyarumie · 2 months

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Brains to Brawn. (Chapter 1)

narumi gen x f!reader — 1.7k words, co-workers to lovers, narumi loves kisses, multiple parts, semi canon compliant, in denial reader.

STATUS: Ongoing. Chapter links: 1, 2, 3

Author's Note at the end! Happy reading ♡

Cross-posted on ao3.

Requests, prompts, or any messages are appreciated! Just open my ask box.

The shift in the tides of the First Division wasn't subtle. It wasn't the way the large bodies of water swayed with greater force against Ariake Maritime Base's sturdy walls, nor did it have to do anything with Regular Officers being transferred from one division to another.

The first change in the atmosphere was when Second Division Captain, Hikari Shinomiya, died. Tense. Strict. A single drop of needle could disrupt the entire defense force—ironically seeming so quiet despite the sounds emerging from the Officers' even more rigorous training.

The second wave of change felt rowdy, raucous—but hopeful. Narumi Gen had made quite the scenario even before officially joining the Defense Force. An unleashed combat power of 24% even without donning a suit at least once in his life, showing great aptitude potential for Kaiju No. 1 weapons, and... having a blatant display of disrespect and chaos, as the higher ups would describe. What seemed to be the hope of the nation turns out to be the First Division's biggest headache. Most times.

The third was when things started to be more obvious—to most people, a shift in leadership means a shift in everything. Shortly after Narumi joined the Defense Force, the Head of Operations eventually had to retire. Kurusu was given the prestige to be the young Head of Operations. At the same time, Narumi had already been appointed as a Platoon Leader, a sign that the youth will shoulder the fate of this country and power will emerge across all divisions.

The next wave is you.

From the previous year, the Defense Force's annual selection involved both Officers and Operators. You were tempted to apply in both, for simple reasons: As an operator, you know you're extremely smart—emerging at the top of your class in university and having reading as a hobby enhanced your intelligence.

On the other hand, you simply think it would be fun to try the Officer Selection Trial. Who knows? You were pretty athletic, diving here and there to save volleyballs on your university's sports fest. Hell, you even won an MVP award twice.

But you have bills to pay and concerts you'd love to attend, so you let the rational part of your brain win and opt for the safer option. With a fellow youngster like Kurusu leading the Operations, all worries about bonding with your co-workers were thrown out the window.

In fact, it seems like you went overboard with bonding with them. You all were friends and swore to do your job properly so as to stick together til the end, but how come you're the only one facing this... baffling scenario?

'A little fun in your normal working day as an operations manager won't hurt', they said.

'The captain won't find out about this anyway', another added.

You should've known that the normal working day applies only to your co-workers. You, on the other hand? It literally changed the trajectory of your life—for better or for worse. Internally groaning, you wondered why you didn't push harder when you were against their idea of 'fun'.

When your co-workers suggested doing something for fun, you never thought it would be testing out each other's unleashed combat power, if you even have them; you're all managing the operations, after all. Doing calculations in your head, you estimated you'd all be getting a percentage ranging from 1% to 3%.

After pleading with Kurusu for what felt like an hour, your little unassuming friend group got permission to use the combat power technology.

"I'm an MVP for volleyball in our University, y'know? If I get an 8%, maybe I can smash a ball or two on a yoju's head. Might get recruited on the spot too.", you said with humourous arrogance.

Your co-worker who was prepping the machine chimed in, "We don't have balls for weapons. And don't get your hopes up, the most you'll be getting is probably a 2%. It's impossible for anyone to get a 0% after all."

With a pout, you denied that you're hoping for a good result. You're pretty satisfied with your job, anyways. Good pay, safety secured—what else could you ask for?

"Alright, prep done. Who's up first?"

"Oh, I'll go! I proposed the idea, so I should be the one taking the first step!" said your enthusiastic co-worker. There were only 4 of you anyway, enough to fall into a line, letting yourself go last.

Sometime along your little fun, Kurusu entered the room, feeling uneasy about giving permission against official purposes. As expected, your friends got a range of 1% to 3%. They were all cheering as you got ready to lay down, as you were initially against the idea of having fun with these machines.

"Show us your 8%, then!" they laughed.

You rolled your eyes at them as your co-worker is sticking the device to certain pulse points to extract your body conditions.

"Keep your head straight and calm down. I'll activate it in a few minutes. We wouldn't want any irregularities in your readings—like you getting 8% from your volleyball experience." she snorted.

Following further instructions, you closed your eyes and kept your composure. It surprisingly felt comfortable, despite the hard surface. It's probably because you haven't slept well comfortably in so long.

"Extraction in 3, 2, and 1..."

It was Kurusu who surprisingly spoke this time. "Well... You almost got an 8. You're on 6%." he announced, still looking confused at the screen.

"Can somebody give me a gun? Or a sword?" you asked.

You thought their necks will snap at how fast they turned their heads to you. They looked at you as if you just had asked for the most incredulous thing, which in this case, does sound frightening.

"Gonna kill us for doubting you?", they joked. "What for, though?"

"Trying to see if I can get that combat power up if I hold those. We're already having fun here, wouldn't hurt to test a few more things, right? Just don't let anyone know of this, or we'll all lose our jobs." you said.

They turn to Kurusu, eyes hopeful, asking through their gazes if it's still within his given permission to issue weapons.

Curiosity piqued, he didn't hesitate giving approval this time. "Alright. Just do make sure to get some less powerful weapons." With a sigh, he mumbled, "My first year as head operator and I feel like I'll already lose my job..."

Once you were provided with your 'weapons', you were instructed by Kurusu this time. "Just hold them as naturally as you can. You may choose between the two weapons provided. Lay them down next to you if you don't want it tested."

Holding the gun in one hand, you heard their countdown go off again. You let yourself relax while waiting for the results.

"Huh. A small increase, but quite a feat. You're smart for suggesting to hold these weapons. It's actually now on 8%. Try the dagger."

You let go of the gun and did as you were told. It took you a while to get as natural as you can while holding the dagger, but decided to not put in any effort as you were just having some 'fun' anyways.

"...That was higher than the gun. 10%. You're unbelievable."

'What's so unbelievable about that?' you thought. Not a single result elicited any reaction from you. Hell, now-promoted Platoon Leader Narumi had a whopping 24% even as a normal civilian. Why would yours be any unbelievable? Maybe it's the first and only time an operations manager got this number. Who in their right mind would test this out for fun anyway?

"Hey, I'll try holding both of these. Let's end our fun and curiosity here." you announced. By this time, you just want this to end. But you are as intrigued as they are, hence suggesting a final test. For some reason, you felt yourself become uneasy at the last attempt. You know it never ends good whenever a sudden wave of uneasiness washes over you, so you force yourself to keep the relaxed state you were previously in.

From your peripheral vision, you saw Kurusu nod. You took both weapons in your hand. The procedure repeats, for the last time.

And then there was silence. You thought you fell asleep, but moved your fingers just to confirm you're still awake. Opening your eyes, you turn to look at your co-workers who were currently gawking at the huge screen.

"Um... You..." started Kurusu. "You uh, just got an 18% unleashed combat power with both weapons in your hold."

Oh.

Now that's unbelievable.

"...And our fun little session ends here! Can somebody assist me here so I can continue my work?" you asked in a rush.

"No. You stay there, I'm not done with your analysis. I'll have to command everyone to go back to their stations." Kurusu said, seriousness suddenly taking over his voice.

He continued speaking, "Not only do you have an 18% unleashed combat power, you also have a potential aptitude for Kaiju no. 3 cells."

It's as if your ability to speak was taken. 18% unleashed combat power sure is something for someone in your level, but to have an aptitude for an identified kaiju...? No wonder he asked them to leave. Word about this finding mustn’t spread, at least, not for now. Your co-workers are new in the job, so they probably don’t know how to identify an aptitude reading for identified Kaiju.

"Um... So... Do we report this to the Captain or something?" you hesitantly ask after a few minutes of blanking out. You don't know what else you can say at the moment, totally taken aback by the suddenness of it all.

Before Kurusu can even respond, you hear a voice coming from the doorway.

"Huh. No wonder those operators flocked out of the room in a hurry. I've spared you the job. The old man is already informed."

Your eyes widened, soul leaving your body upon hearing it. You know you'd have to eventually report this to the Captain, but this soon? And what's worse, that voice...

Standing lazily at the doorway with his phone in one hand is no other than the newly promoted Platoon Leader, Narumi Gen.

Author's Note(s):

My first fic! I've actually never wrote anything like this before, as I've only spent my entire life writing academic papers 😭 Thus, constructive criticism and feedbacks are always welcome!

I also apologize for any inaccuracies in the terminologies I used, my brain is pea-sized when it comes to some canon minor details.

I thought I'll be able to finish this in a single chapter, but I think a max of 3 wouldn't sound so bad. I can't write continuously or my head will explode omg

I'm not sure about the holding weapons thing, but I included it here based off how they tested Mina to have great aptitude for guns. I also recall a chapter saying Soshiro's combat power for firearms is so low, hence why he's a close quarters combatant.

Also, about the Kaiju No. 3 thingy, It's not gonna be canon compliant since we don't have any info on that identified Kaiju so I'll just be making stuff up for the sake of this fic lol.

#kaiju no. 8 #narumi gen x reader #kn8 writing #axia writes for fun #kn8 x reader #gen narumi #narumi gen fluff

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reasonsforhope · 1 year

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"New Mexico will establish a permanent absentee voter list and remove barriers to voting on tribal lands under sweeping legislation signed into law Thursday [March 30, 2023] by Gov. Michelle Lujan Grisham.

The measure also will automate voter registration during certain Motor Vehicle Division transactions and more quickly restore the voting rights of people exiting prison after a felony conviction. It was supported this year by Democratic legislative leaders and Lujan Grisham, a Democrat, after a similar measure died in the final moments of the 2022 session amid a GOP filibuster...

Republican lawmakers fiercely opposed the bill this year, too, contending automatic voter registration and other measures aren't necessary in a state that already allows same-day registration. But advocates of the legislation, House Bill 4, celebrated Thursday [March 30, 2023] as Lujan Grisham signed the bill during a ceremony at the Capitol with Secretary of State Maggie Toulouse Oliver; House Speaker Javier Martínez, D-Albuquerque; and others.

Native American leaders described it as critical step toward protecting the voting rights of people on tribal land, especially those without a traditional mailing address. [More details in/moved to the last key point!]

In a signing ceremony at the Capitol, Lujan Grisham said the legislation would serve as a template for other states. "We want to send a message to the rest of the country — that this is what voting access and protection should look like," the governor said...

Absentee voting: Sign up once

The legislation calls for a permanent absentee voter list to be available in time for the 2024 elections. Voters could sign up once to get absentee ballots mailed to them before every statewide election. People on the list would also get notices mailed to them seven weeks before Election Day. Any election-related mail returned to the county clerk as undeliverable would trigger the voters' removal from the absentee list.

Automated voter registration

Automatic voter registration during some transactions at MVD [DMV] offices — such as when a person presents documents proving citizenship while applying for a driver's license — would begin in July 2025. Newly registered voters would be told they've been added to the voter rolls and that they'll get a postcard in the mail allowing them to decline the registration. For MVD customers already registered to vote, their address would be updated in the voting rolls if they renew their driver's license with a different address.

Restoration of rights

The legislation will restore the voting rights of felons when they leave custody rather than after they complete probation or parole. Inmates would be granted the chance to register or update their registration before release. The Sentencing Project, an advocacy group, estimated the measure will restore the voting rights of more than 11,000 citizens.

New holiday

The bill makes Election Day a school holiday.

Drop boxes

The legislation requires each county to have at least two secured, monitored boxes for people to drop off absentee ballots. State election officials are empowered to waive the requirement or grant requests for additional containers, depending on the circumstances of each county.

Native American voting

The proposal establishes a Native American Voting Rights Act.

[Moved here from earlier in the article]

The measure requires collaboration with pueblos, nations and tribes on establishing polling places, early voting locations and precinct boundaries. It also allows members to register to vote or receive absentee ballots at official tribal buildings — a necessity, supporters said, for residents who don't receive mail at home. "It is truly monumental reform," said Ahtza Chavez, executive director of NM Native Vote and a member of the Kewa Pueblo and Diné Nation. "It requires collaboration with tribes at all levels.""

-via Albuquerque Journal, March 30, 2023

#new mexico #voting rights #voting matters #united states #us politics #good news #american politics #voting #election 2024 #native american #indigenous rights #first nations #felon voting #election day #lujan grisham #michelle lujan grisham #hope #hope posting #elections

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bubbleebubz · 9 months

Note

HIIIIIII

okay so maybe spencer x fem!reader and their at the office and maybe reader wears a new perfume and like he gets hard and goes to the bathroom to ✨jerk off ✨ and reader goes to check on him cuz he’s been in there for so long and like they do it in the bathroom ?

-🌸

HIII THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST!!!! I hope you like it! (I did reader AND spencer POV if that's ok?)

Delicate delight

15++

~Warning~ smuttttttt😊😊, male masterbation, swearing? Oral sex (male and female receiving) orgasm denial, "good girl", Boner alert ⚠️

READER POV

"Hey Spence, I'm going to be late coming to the office, I'll be there in 20" I say into my phone, rushing out of the shower.

"Ok Y/N, hurry though we have a lot of paper work to do and I don't want to be here all night" He chuckles deeply into his phone.

"Yes ofourse, im the flash!" I say teasingly before hanging up the phone.

I hurriedly put my work suit on, flared black pants with a white button up, and a black sweater.

I I brush my hair and I dont bother doing my full make up routine, just putting on mascara and lipgloss.

I grab my keys and look around my apartment, making sure I didn't forget anything.

MY BAG!

I think to myself, speedily walking to my bedroom, grabbing the bag off of my desk, before looking over at a new perfume I got a while ago, I never bothered using it due to never being home usually.

I open the box and reveal a pretty pink bottle in the shape of a heart, i spray a few squirts on me, the scent being a delicate vanilla, putting the perfume into my bag before leaving to go to the office.

___________________________________________

SPENCER POV

I wait impatiently at my desk, trying to focus on the pile of reports on my desk, groaning in frustration.

Where was Y/N?

He thinks, looking at his watch, as he does so Y/N walks through the door, exactly 20 minutes after she had hung up the phone.

God she looks beautiful- well she always does ofcourse but today something is just different.

"Your make up looks good today Y/N" I say with a soft smile, making her blush. "I only managed to put mascara and lipgloss on, time crunch" she says. "I like it" I say, turning back to the files.

She walks by him, her delightfully delicate scent filling his nose, sending blood straight to his hardening cock.

Oh God not here, I bite my lower lip, keeping myself from letting out any noises. She pulls up a chair infront of his desk.

"Okay, how many files are we looking at here Spence?" She asks.

God her voice. The way she says my name. She has no idea that I'm fucking hard under the table right now.

"I- um, about 32?" I estimate.

Me and Y/N decided to take everyone's report and do them on our day off, everyone was home taking time off but us.

She nods at my answer, leaning over me to grab a pen, giving me a perfect view of her cleavage.

God she was going to be the death of me.

My pants become painfully tight, after just 15 minutes of working in silence, with only little conversation.

"Hey, I'm going to go to the bathroom, I'll be right back" He says smiling.

I shut the family bathroom door, before leaning against it, letting out a shaky breath. My hands go down to my pants, undoing my belt and pants, rubbing my hard cock through the confines, pulling them down including my boxers just enough to get my dick out, I stroke my cock a few times, spitting on my hand, before finally jerking off at a steady pace.

___________________________________________Y/N POV

Spencer has been in the bathroom for about- I look down at my watch- 24 minutes now.

I get out if my seat, wondering to the bathrooms to check to make sure he was alright. I get infront of the door when I hear it.

He was groaning?

I knock, "Spencer are you alright?" I ask worriedly.

I hear a bang. "Y-yeah I'm fine, sorry!" He yells out, his voice wavery.

"Spence I'm coming in" I say, opening to unlocked door, I freeze in my tracks.

Oh.

"Y/N I can explain I swear-" before he can finish his sentence, I walk in, shutting the bathroom door, locking it behind me.

I walk over to him slowly.

"What are you doing?" I ask innocently.

He puts his hard throbing cock back into his pants.

"It's not what it looks like" he says, face as red as a tomato.

"So you weren't jerking off in the family bathroom?" I ask with a slight smile.

"I-" He pauses. "Yes. I was, I'm sorry, your just so.. so perfect, and your perfume did something to me" He explains guiltily.

I smile slightly, a blush appearing on my face.

He walks towards me slowly, causing me to shrink under his gaze.

I look up at him with doe eyes.

"Why didn't you leave Y/N?" He asks, voice deeper than before.

"I-" i begin to say, but get cut off by his lips on mine. He pulls away quickly, making me whine.

"Do you want this Y/N?" He asks, hands on my waist and eyes gazing into my own.

I nod.

"Words, love" He says, making my knees weak.

"Yes sir" I whimper.

In an instant his lips are on mine again, he lifts me up, setting me on the counter, standing between my legs. I can feel his covered erection pushing against my thigh.

___________________________________________

SPENCER POV

Her lipgloss tasted like vanilla, making it all the more harder to stop kissing her, my hips rutting against her clothed cunt causing her to moan in need.

I slowly begin to unbutton her blouse revealing her black lace bra, making me groan. She removes my own button up shirt, and begins to pull my pants down, not needing to unbutton them, due to the fact they never were done back up after she caught me.

I take her bra off, along with her pants, leaving her in her panties.

I get on my knees between her thighs looking up at her hungrily.

I put her legs over my shoulders and kiss her clothed cunt before ripping the thin material off before diving right into her soaking pussy.

I groan against her clit, wrapping my lips around it, savoring her sweet essence. "Taste so good baby, so wet for me" I growl, making her moan louder. I slide a finger into her, slowly fucking her, before adding another one, curling my fingers to get her sweet spot.

"Gonna cum Spence" she sobs out a moan, but before she can release, i pull my mouth and fingers away, causing her to whine in frustration.

___________________________________________Y/N POV

Just as I was about to cum he pulled away, causing a loud whine to fall from my lips.

I feel tears prick behind my eyes from the edging.

I look down, seeing his cock again, not realizing how big it was.

My eyes widen and mouth drops, "c-can I suck it?" I ask, referring to his throbing cock.

He nods.

I get off the counter and get on my knees infront of him, eyes glued to his cock, tip red in need.

He puts my hair in a make shift ponytail, holding it with his hand.

I stroke his cock slowly, looking up at him through my lashes, before licking the precum from the head of his cock, taking his whole tip into my mouth, sucking and licking sloppily, he groans out, making me moan around him, taking him further into my mouth, wanting to hear those hot groans again.

I play with his balls, taking him down my throat, deep throating him and gagging around his cock, spit and precum pooling down my chin.

"Gonna cum baby" He groans out, but before he can, I pull off, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

He groans in frustration, I stick my tongue out teasingly.

He pulls me up, setting me on the counter once again, before lining up his cock with my wet folds, slowly pushing in.

__________________________________________

SPENCERS POV

I enter her soaked pussy, groaning at the feeling of her warm slick walls sucking me in.

She clenches around me, whining at the intrusion.

God she was so tight.

"Gonna be a good girl and take my cock baby?" I groan out, the pet name making her walls flutter around me, causing me to chuckle.

I slowly start to move, shallow gentle thrusts before she eggs me to move faster.

"Fuck Spence" she moans, nails digging into my back as I pound into her, feeling her walls clench around me.

"Gonna cum" she whines out. I reach down and rub her clit, holding her hip with my other hand.

"Do it baby, cum around my cock, want to feel you." I groan out, feeling my own release approaching fast.

She cums around my cock, walls fluttering around me.

"Gonna fill you up baby, going to cum in your sweet little tight pussy" I groan before releasing my load into her, my head falling onto her shoulder, he hands in my hair.

I look up. "You ok?" I ask worriedly.

She nods frantically. "Never better" she smiles out.

#dom!spencer #soft dom!spencer #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut

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playermagic23 · 6 months

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Shaitaan Box Office Estimate Day 3: Collects approx. Rs. 22 cr. on Sunday; eyes the 100-crore club after Rs. 56 cr. opening weekend

The Ajay Devgn-led Shaitaan has scored excellent numbers in its opening weekend as after opening at Rs. 15.23 crore on Friday, the film jumped by 28 percent to collect Rs. 19.18 crore on Saturday, followed by another 15-17 percent jump to clock Rs. 21.75 to 22.25 crore on Sunday. This takes the 3-day opening weekend collection to Rs. 56 crore as per estimates.

Shaitaan is doing well across the board - be it single screens or multiplexes - and has already emerged as a hit film with its trend in the opening weekend. The film opened on Friday and the business was boosted due to the Maha Shiv Ratri, but the spikes on non-festive Saturday and Sunday indicate a long leg for the film at the box office.

The audience's word of mouth is positive and Shaitaan will soon enter the Rs. 100 crore club at the box office. A stronghold on Monday is more or less confirmed and we need to see if the film has enough legs to clock double digits on day four. Shaitaan will be the third big grosser for Ajay Devgn in the post-pandemic world after Sooryavanshi, and Drishyam 2.

His next film, Maidaan, also looks promising but the big blockbuster will come in the 2nd half of 2024 with the Rohit Shetty-directed Singham Again.

#Ajay Devgn #Ajay Devgn Films #Box Office Estimate #Box-Office #Jio Studios #Jyotika #Panorama Studios #R Madhavan #Shaitaan #Vikas Bahl #bollywood hungama

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djarshaddj · 3 months

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Kalki 2898 AD Box Office Collection Day 4 (Early Estimates): Nag Ashwin's Epic Sci-Fi Experiences 31.78% Spike, and Racks the Second Highest Net Collection Number Since Release ₹ 85.00 Cr!

Kalki 2898 AD Box Office Collection Day 4 (Early Estimates): Vyjayanthi Movies produced the epic sci-fi film “Kalki 2898 AD,” which was unstoppable at the box office. On opening Sunday, the film witnessed a phenomenal 31.78% spike compared to Saturday and generated the second highest net collection number since release, ₹ 85.00 Cr. Now all eyes are on the opening Monday box office performance.…

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#Amitabh Bachchan #Box office 2024 #Box office collection day 4 #Deepika Padukone #Early Estimates #HIndi #Kalki 2898 AD #Kamal Haasan #prabhas

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cinnoasch · 7 months

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Valentine's Day: SEES Edition

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day! I didn't have time to make any for the girls but I might post some later! This was also my first-time writing Shinji so hopefully he's not too out of character. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2886

Minato Arisato

You sigh slightly, turning a box of chocolates over in your hands. You were definitely making this out to be more of a big deal than it was. The school day had ended and you were still sitting there in the classroom. Yukari and Junpei had already left to go back to the dorms and Minato had wandered off somewhere as per usual.

You were planning to give this box of chocolates to Minato, just to show your appreciation for everything he’s done for SEES. But your nerves got the best of you. This morning, you had walked to school with him and when you tried to give him the box, you immediately went silent when he looked at you. And at lunchtime when you saw him in the hallway, you had turned on your heel when your eyes met.

You lay your head on your desk sighing once again. “Darn it…”

“Who’s that for?”

Your head shoots up from your desk as you look to see Minato standing next to you. You didn’t even hear him come in.

“Minato! You’re still here. O-oh, um…” You stammer. You look away, tilting the box towards him. “...They’re for you, actually. Just as a thank you for everything you’ve done with SEES and all.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He takes the box and you let out a sigh of relief.

“ …you were really nervous, huh?”

You look at Minato, seeing a slight smirk on his face. “You noticed…?”

“Kinda hard not to. You avoided me all day.”

“Not my fault…”

He chuckles, “Thanks anyways. I appreciate it. Next year though, it’d be nice to see your face when you hand these to me.”

Your eyes widen and your face flushes as Minato grins. “Wanna head back to the dorms? We can share these.”

You laugh slightly as you stand up. “You’re really something sometimes… yeah, let’s head back.”

You follow Minato out of the classroom, the two of you chatting quietly. Maybe things didn’t go as planned, but in one way they worked out. Next year, you definitely would face him with a smile.

Junpei Iori

“Dude, did Y/N give you chocolates?” Junpei asks as he sits on the couch next to Minato. Akihiko was also present, sitting on the couch across from them.

“Yeah.” Minato replies, “Why?”

“I also got some too.” Akihiko adds, looking up from his boxing gloves. “What? They didn’t give you any?”

Junpei groans. “No… I mean Yuka-tan, Fuuka and Mitsuru-senpai gave me some, but that’s more of a teammate thing right? I dunno, I feel like Y/N and I are… more than that, or something.”

Neither Akihiko or Minato respond and Junpei groans again. “Oh c’mon, you guys have nothing to say?”

Minato shrugs. “Did you ask them out?”

“...no. I mean not yet at least.”

“There’s your answer then.”

“Dude, you're no help at all.” Junpei sighs, leaning his head back on the couch. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Maybe you just need to be patient. I don’t even think Y/N came back to the dorms yet.” Akihiko says.

“But the day’s almost over! …Okay, I’m going to look for them!”

Junpei gets up and heads out the door without another word. Meanwhile Mitsuru and Yukari enter the lounge from upstairs.

“He has a bit too much energy don’t you think? Should he really be worried about whether Y/N is giving him chocolates or not?” Yukari says with a sigh.

“Hey, let him be. He’s gotta put that energy to use somehow.” Akihiko replies.

Mitsuru sighs. “If only he’d have that amount of energy when it comes to his studies.”

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

“Huh? My package hasn’t arrived yet? But I got an email saying it arrived today…” You say to the mail carrier.

“I’m sorry. It was expected to arrive today, but due to unforeseen conditions, it’s been delayed.”

You sigh. “I see… Well, thank you then. Could you give me an estimated arrival date?”

“It should arrive in about 2 days.”

“Great… thank you again.”

You exit the post office sighing once again as you start walking back towards the monorail. Well, there went your plans for the rest of the day. You wanted to surprise a certain someone with a co-op game the two of you mentioned playing together a while ago. You should’ve known there was no way that the game would actually arrive on the day of. Sure, it could have been better planning on your part, but the whole thing had slipped your mind up until last week.

Suddenly you hear a familiar voice call your name.

“Y/N! Finally, I found you!”

You look up and see Junpei running towards you.

“Junpei? What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been looking for you. Damn, I had no idea where to look so I’ve been running around all over the place.”

“Oh, I was on my way back to the dorms anyways. Were you worried about me or something?”

He chuckles a bit nervously. “Uh, yeah something like that.” Then he looks behind you. “The post office, huh? Picking up something?”

“Ah, yeah I was, but it turns out it’s not here yet.” You smile slightly. “I meant to order it way earlier, but I forgot. Kind of silly of me to think that it would actually arrive today.”

“Was it something for Valentine’s Day?”

“Yeah actually… wait, why are you asking so many questions?”

“N-no reason… Why are you getting so defensive?”

You cross your arms, looking at Junpei with a smirk. “Ohh, I see. You were looking for me because you were expecting a Valentine’s Day gift, right?”

Junpei scoffs. “No, why would I be expecting something? Valentine’s isn’t even that big of a deal.”

“Uh-huh… so I guess you don’t want your gift when it arrives then.”

His face lights up. “Wait, you got me something? For real?”

“And here I thought you were worried about little ol’ me.”

“Hey, who says I wasn’t?”

You laugh. “I’m just teasing. I appreciate you coming to look for me, even if it was only to get your gift.”

“And if my gift is right in front of me?”

A beat of silence passes and Junpei laughs nervously. “That was lame, forget I said anything.”

“It was a little lame… but I don’t mind it.” You say, whispering the last part. “Anyways, let’s head back to the dorms.”

“Did you say something? Something along the lines of ‘ I don’t mind it’?”

You don’t say anything as you start to walk past him.

“Hey c’mon! I’m just playin’!”

Akihiko Sanada

“Hey guys,” You say walking downstairs into the lounge. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, hey Senpai.” Junpei says with a grin. He and Minato were sitting at the table with a large pile of small boxes in front of them. They were all wrapped nicely with ribbons. “We’re just going through Akihiko-senpai’s Valentine’s Day gifts.”

“Uh, isn’t that an invasion of privacy?”

“Not necessarily. He gave us permission to look through them. You should’ve seen him when he came back to the dorms. He had no clue what to do with all of it. He said we could take some if we wanted. Man, getting all of this from girls and he just gives it away?”

“Well, it’s not like he’d eat it all anyway.” You say, then you look over at Minato. “I didn’t think you’d be taking some.”

Minato shrugs. “Free SP items, I’m not complaining.”

“Right…so where’d Akihiko head off to?”

“I think he said something about going for a run towards the shrine. He left not long ago so you could probably catch up to him.” Junpei replies.

“Thanks, see you guys later.”

You set off towards the shrine hoping to find Akihiko. When you arrived, the sun was setting, the pink and orange hue gently enveloping the area. You spot Akihiko sitting on top of the jungle gym, looking at the sky.

“Hey there Mr. Popular.” You say walking up. “You look worn out.”

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Akihiko asks, a surprised look on his face.

“I heard from Minato and Junpei that you might be here. Mind if I join you?”

“Yeah, come on up.”

You climb up the jungle gym and Akihiko gives you a hand to lift you up. You sit next to him, looking up at the sky. “So, you had quite a day, huh? I saw Junpei and Minato with your gifts in the lounge.”

Akihiko lets out a sigh. “Yeah. You wouldn't believe the amount of people in my classroom during lunch. Even the teacher had trouble getting them out of there.”

“Heh, I bet. I could hear those girls from down the hallway. ‘Sanada-senpai, these are for you!’ ‘Happy Valentine’s Day Sanada-san, please accept these!’ And so on and so forth.”

He hums in reply, chuckling slightly at your impression. Silence settles between the two of you as you continue to watch the sunset on the horizon. Then Akihiko speaks up.

“So, what brought you all the way over here? You weren't looking for me were you?”

“I was actually.” You say, handing two small boxes over. “You're probably tired of hearing this, but Happy Valentine's Day, Aki.”

Akihiko freezes when he hears the nickname and his face flushes, his ears are tinted red. You laugh a bit when you see his expression. “Sorry, it slipped out. I must've picked it up from Shinjiro. I’ll be more careful.”

“N-no! I mean…” Akihiko clears his throat, taking the boxes. “It's fine. You can call me Aki… if you want.”

You smile. “Maybe I will. It's pretty funny to see you like this.”

“Hey, don't tease me.” He sighs. Then he starts to open one of the boxes. “Hm, dark chocolate?”

“Yeah, you don't like sweets that much right? I figured you might like it better than milk chocolate.”

Akihiko nods as he takes a piece out, popping it into his mouth. “It’s good. Not too sweet, and it has some bitterness to it. This is something I wouldn’t mind having every once in a while.”

“Good, cause I know how to make them.”

“You made these?”

“I asked Shinjiro for help… which is probably where I picked up calling you Aki.” You chuckle nervously. “If you want I can give you the recipe.”

“Hm, how about we make it together then? It’d probably be good for me to learn how to make something more complex anyways.”

“Sure. We can get Shinjiro to join in as well.”

“Heh, he’d probably just yell at me whenever I do something wrong.”

The two of you laugh as Akihiko goes to open the other box. He unwraps it, revealing a small keychain, a pair of boxing gloves to be exact. He looks at you, holding it up. “You got these for me?”

You nod. “I saw it at Paulownia Mall one day and you came to mind. Sorry, it’s a bit cheesy, isn’t it?”

Akihiko shakes his head, a small smile appears on his face. “No, I don’t think so at least. Hearing you say that you thought of me… it’s a nice feeling. I’ll have to put this on my bag so that way I can think of you when I see it.”

This time you freeze at Akihiko’s words, you can feel your face flush as you try to come up with a response. You weren’t even sure if he realized the effect of his words.

“Hm? What’s wrong? Your face got all red… well it is getting a bit chilly, huh? Do you want to head back to the dorms?”

“Ah… yeah, let’s head back.” You say with a smile. You climb down the jungle gym and Akihiko follows you down.

“Hey actually, how about we get some beef bowls? It’ll be the perfect thing to warm you up.”

“Okay,” You say, winking playfully before you take off running. “Last one there is paying!”

“H-hey! You got a head start, that’s cheating!”

Shinjiro Aragaki

“Okay, and now we wait…” You mumble quietly, putting a tray of chocolates into the fridge.

You’re currently in the kitchen, attempting to make a batch of chocolate for Valentine’s Day. Well, before the end of the day that is. Yes, you were a bit late, but for good reasons. Shinjiro was always away from the dorms so you couldn’t really ask for his preferences in sweets. At this point, it wasn’t any secret who you were making these for since you had to ask the other SEES members for information. Interestingly enough, there was no one in the dorms so you figured they all had plans for today.

You let out a sigh as you lean against the counter. To be honest, you weren’t exactly sure what led you to make chocolates for him. Maybe curiosity? Despite having been a part of the team for a while, you barely knew anything about him. You weren’t the most stealthy person; so when you tried to follow Shinjiro once, he immediately caught you and told you to go back to the dorms. You did try to follow him again a few times after that, but of course failed. He didn’t seem much for conversation either so you never really talked to him, but you suppose you should have tried harder if you were really curious about him.

Just then the dorm doors open and you step out of the kitchen to see who it is.

“Oh, you’re back early today.” You say, seeing Shinjiro walk inside.

He looks up at you then averts his gaze. “Yeah.” He glances around. “...it’s quiet today. Guess you’re the only one here?”

“Mhm, looks like everyone has plans.”

Shinjiro stays quiet for a moment then looks at you again. “Are you making chocolate? I smelled it when I came in.”

You nod. “I’m just waiting for it to harden. Want to wait with me? I could use the company, and you could be my taste tester.”

He lets out a sigh, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets. “I might as well. Not like I got anything better to do.”

“Perfect!”

You turn on your heel, walking back into the kitchen as Shinjiro joins you. Once he steps into the kitchen, his attention is drawn to the bowls on the counter. “You added filling?”

“Yeah, it’s dark chocolate so I figured it would be a nice contrast. You aren’t allergic to raspberries are you?”

“No.”

After that curt response, silence fills the space. Well, this was more awkward than you wanted it to be. Your gaze falls onto the bowls and you walk over, picking one up and bringing it to the sink.

“Uh, do you want to dry these after I wash them?”

Shinjiro only nods as he picks up a drying cloth and you start washing the bowls. It's only when you hand him a bowl to dry that he says something.

“...So, I heard you've been asking about me.”

You freeze slightly, then you chuckle. “Yeah, I have. Let me guess… Junpei?”

“Yeah.�� Shinjiro sighs. “Y’know, if you wanted to know about me… you could’ve just asked.”

“I know. I just didn’t want to bother you.”

“You could just say you were intimidated.”

“No-no! I wasn’t. I’m not…well, maybe a little, but I was only asking the other members for good reasons.” You say handing him the last bowl. You turn off the faucet and dry your hands. “Those chocolates in the fridge are for you.”

Shinjiro looks at you in surprise. “Me?

“Yeah, I guess you can consider them as… friendship chocolates? I was wondering what you liked in terms of sweets so I was asking around. I guess I went with raspberry filling since it's close to the color of your jacket.”

He looks at his jacket. “...I guess.” He sets the bowl down along with the towel and leans against the counter. “Well, next time, you can just ask me. We’re teammates right? You don’t have to be scared to ask me stuff. It’s not like I’ll bite or anything.”

You laugh a bit. “Right, I’ll keep that in mind.” Your gaze turns towards the clock and you walk towards the fridge. “I think they might be done now.”

You take the tray out and set it on the table, touching one of the chocolates to see if it’s solid. You nod happily and pick one up to give to Shinjiro. “Here!”

Instead of taking it with his hand, he leans his head down to pick it up with his mouth. You freeze once again when his gaze meets yours, then he raises his head, chewing the chocolate.

“Hm, not bad. This is your first time making it right?”

“O-oh, um yes.” You say, glancing away from him.

“Next time, you should try to add more cocoa powder for the bitterness. You were going for dark chocolate, yeah?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure how much to add.”

You feel his hand fall on top of your head as he ruffles your hair. “We can make them together next time then. Don’t look so down.”

You smile, “I look forward to it then.”

#persona 3 x reader #persona 3 #akihiko sanada x reader #x reader #minato arisato x reader #makoto yuki #junpei iori #shinjiro aragaki x reader

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almostfoxglove · 6 hours

Text

THE PRETTIEST

written for @quinnnfabrgay-writes & @hauntedhowlett-writes' #MONSTERSMASH2024 challenge

RATING: Explicit (18+) | PAIRING: Max Phillips x f!Reader CREATURE: GHOST + MAX PHILLIPS WORD COUNT: 4.3k CW: Smut (piv), voyeurism/non-consensual voyeurism (he's invisible and reader doesn't know he's watching), Max is a bit of a creep okay he's doing his best here, protective!max, jealous!max, enough manager speak that I got tech startup flashbacks.

SUMMARY: After a restructuring at the company, Max finds himself dead—this time for good—and haunting his old duplex. Lucky for him, you move in.

read on ao3 | almostfoxglove masterlist

Of all the hell holes where one might waste eternity, Max is pretty sure his vacant duplex is the worst of them. Six rooms, two floors spined by a spiral staircase—all boring and hollow and dusty. Disgusting. How difficult would it have been to let him haunt the office? He could’ve leered over all those pathetic little office drones, driven them crazy forever. Fucked with their desk chairs, their hard drives, mixed up all their coffee mugs. Not that Max has mastered the art of affecting the material world yet, but he will.

Petty? Sure. But you can’t blame a guy for feeling a little owed after all management’s little reorganization. His relocation to the goddamn fucking afterlife—and to this prison of an apartment where there’s no one to subjugate or fuck, no less.

What a waste of his potential. His talents.

Who knows how long he spends stuck alone in this place until someone shows up, but eventually people do. The real estate agent—Doreen and her little beehive hairdo, her eyebrows always penciled on too thin—and, over what Max estimates to be about three weeks, a parade of nobodies she tours around, preaching godless, truthless sermons of the duplex’s good bones and the good life they could have in these dreary fucking rooms. He’d be proud of her sales pitch if he weren’t so goddamn pissed.

He tries, he really does. Yells often, I’m right here, Dor-een, honey, right fucking here! And waves his arms in front of her face, but he can scream as loud as he likes; nobody hears a thing.

For the first time in his many lives, people walk straight through him.

There might be, possibly, some karma in that.

Max doesn’t care for it.

It’s misery until the day Doreen brings him you.

Come on, Max whines, slouching lazily on your couch. Curled up with your bedsheets cloaked over your head, you rot on the cushions beside him, four hours deep in a Desperate Housewives marathon, oblivious to his company: your usual Sunday routine.

As usual you don’t hear him, don’t see him either. Sitting right beside you, making no dents in the pillows, his glossy dress shoes kicked up on the coffee table. Still he finds himself complaining, one hand gesticulating wildly at the screen, You’re killing me, baby. It’s obviously the fucking neighbor! Guy’s got a box of death under his pool!

Meanwhile you just sit there, enthralled as Eva Longoria struts about in her tiny skirts and tiny shoes. Max tells himself the only reason he stays in the room when you watch this garbage is for her and all the other pretty housewives or to leer at what bits of you peek out from your duvet each time you reach for your tea on the coffee table—a wrist, your elbow, and when you knock over the popcorn bowl and slip the sheets from your head, the lovely hollow of your perfect neck. Truth is, if you were to quiz him, he’d be able to cite the plot of the whole season beat for beat.

Not that he’s enjoying this, this—this garbage. Never.

No fucking way. He’s just perceptive. Has an excellent memory.

Plus this is the one way he gets to be close to you. Such a pretty little thing, taunting him without ever knowing it. That sweet mouth, those clever eyes. Showering with the bathroom door sometimes cracked like you know he’s here and dying to peek through the veil of your jasmine-laced steam. Chewing the ends of your pencils while you sketch out some masterpiece on looseleaf that you never get around to painting.

Sitting on your couch, at your dining table, at the foot of your bed while you brush out your hair after a long day—it’s the closest Max gets to feeling like being stuck here might not be hell, just purgatory: always a breath away from the thing he’d like to touch, but at least he’s not simmering in battery acid or being flogged. He’s had his share of blood-bag roommates—brief fascinations that drained so quickly—but you? You’ve lived in Max’s apartment for three months and he’s no less drunk on you than he was the day Doreen toured you around. Can’t quite put his finger on why. Maybe it’s the longing, the forest fire that sears through his ice-box chest every time your eyes skim his face by accident, never lingering.

What can he say? Max is a man, after all. Under all the blood and monster.

And you’re the prettiest creature he’s ever seen.

When the show cuts to commercial you mute the TV, immune to the serpent-tongued promises of liars like him. Lured by nothing, by nobody. Already slinking from your bedsheet cave, all bare legs and cute little ankles striding out of the room, leaving him with the ghost of you, the smell of your perfume kissed into the duvet.

What he wouldn’t give for the chance to sell himself to you. He’d charm you all the way to your perfect knees.

In a way, you and Max are the perfect couple. You’re free to do as you wish, and he’s free to watch you every second that you spend at home, miserable the moment you leave for work in those tight fucking pencil skirts. No better than a dog, he spends his vagrant hours of isolation alternating between puppy-eyed pouting and anxious pacing, tortured until your evening return.

How did he ever live here alone? Alive or otherwise. He can’t remember now. There are too many rooms, too few sounds, too few breaths, too few footsteps. He misses you. Your bedhead and pajamas, your blanket nest in front of the TV, the cute way you answer the phone.

Today, you don’t come home till eight fifteen—and Max has spent thirteen hours losing what’s left of his mind.

Baby, he sighs, rushing for the front room at the first turn of the lock, a grin stretched to dimples in his cheeks. Seems even if you can’t hear him, Max can’t help talking to you, perhaps childlike in his belief that someday you will. Where the hell have you—

His sentence hacks itself in half, drops to silence, because you’re blushing when you come in, eyes shyly downcast, one hand shaking the rain loose from your hair, tendrils clinging to your cheeks. “Here,” you say, and for a beat Max thinks you’re speaking to him. His mouth drops, stunned.

Is this it? Can you finally see him?

“Come in, come in,” you say.

Then a man steps in behind you, shuts the door behind his hulking form, and if there were any blood to speak of in his veins, Max is certain it’d boil at the sight of him. Tall and empty-headed, dopey as a dog, stomping his blocky, muddy shoes all over your hallway. Yours and Max’s. Getting goddamn filth on your hall carpet. Given just a few material cells, Max’d have this guy dead before he makes it to the living room, wouldn’t even bother drinking him. This breed of dumbass isn’t worth the mess.

But he’s useless. Less than a gnat. Sentenced to watch you trail this motherfucker who wouldn’t know Tom Ford from his Brioni into your kitchen, jackets shedding and small talk traded—boring, boring, boring, but you laugh when the guy makes a shitty joke about the weather.

This guy, this nobody, gets to make you laugh while Max never even gets a chance to try.

On second thought, maybe this is hell after all.

“S’a nice place,” the dumbass says, laying his knockoff blazer over the back of a barstool. Cheap stitching. Terrible, too-thin lapels.

You look about the room as if standing in it for the first time and for a moment your eyes pass right over Max, whose long-dead heart winces. Yelps. If you could see him, there’s no way you’d entertain this guy. This nameless little worker bee. Max would make you laugh properly, how you laugh when something funny happens on TV or when you get a letter in the mail from your brother. Sudden and twinkling, often ending in a snort. Adorable.

Shrugging, you turn into your fridge and say, “Yeah, I like it,” and exhume two slim cans of vodka seltzer to set on the kitchen island.

Thank you, Max says, his arms crossed over his chest.

The dumbass’ brows flicker up as he regards your offering. Idiot. What was he expecting from a girl like you, a PBR? These are delicious. Elegant. Calorie wise. Max understands. Max would drink that with a smile and a thank you.

Or maybe he’d skip right to drinking you.

Sensing his hesitation, you crack your can and take a sip. “They’re not as bad as they look,” you say, a nervous chuckle bittering your lips as you watch your date open his can and bring it to his nose to sniff. “Sorry. I don’t have anything else.”

You can do so much better, baby, Max sighs. You’ve got better right here.

Against his will, the hours pass. The evening goes on. You and the dumbass only drink half a can each—him with a half-snarled lip and you with a self-conscious twinge—but somehow by nightfall he’s got you scooching your barstool closer to him, allowing his slimy hand to rest on your thigh.

Max bristles. Seethes. Don’t do it, he pleads to you, unheard. He’s not gonna fuck you right, just look at him. Send this idiot home and watch TV with me. Do anything but this guy, baby, anything but him.

You bend in slow motion and it’s agonizing, the tilt of your head as you press your lips to his. The wet slurp of his mouth taking the second you meet. A terrible kiss, though you’re polite enough not to flinch. Breaking from the prod of his pink-slug tongue to offer your neck, his mouth immediately moving, and fuck baby, it’s like you’re trying to kill him all over again. Drive a stake straight through Max’s blackened heart by giving up what he longs to claim.

In an instant, anger births itself from the hollow of his chest. His hand shoots out in useless violence, swinging as if to strike a seltzer can from the countertop and knowing it won’t do a lick of good as ire devours him, igneous and fervid, searing hot as life in his icy hands.

The can jumps from the counter and clunks to the floor, its contents gluggluglug-ing across the tiles.

“The fuck?” Max hears the dumbass gasp as he leaps from his barstool, eyes bugged wide and child-like and weak. You freeze, lips pink and swollen, staring down at the emptying can.

It’s a shame neither of you can see the way Max smiles.

Now that’s what I’m talking about, he crows. Finally a little substance around here!

This is good. No, it’s better than good. This is the rush after a promotion, after the deal that closes out the quarter over target. The look on every sad sack’s face knowing they lost and he won.

This is the bite that finally breaks skin.

Maddening, burgeoning, addictive.

He’s real again. A goddamn Beetlejuice for you, baby. He’s gonna scare this fucknut out of here and have you to himself. First was the can, next is you, and he’s gonna kiss you so much better than that. In celebration, Max kicks one foot to send the can soaring across the kitchen floor and watches his shoe pass right through it, aluminum undisturbed on the floor. No, he mutters, kicking again. No, fucking—come on, you worthless piece of shit—

Your nervous laugh is too far away to comfort him. Distant too is your voice saying, “My room’s this way,” and the shuffling of your footsteps as Max loses his shit on the seltzer can that now refuses to budge no matter the swell of his outrage. By the time he snaps from his incensed trance, your barstools are empty. He blinks, breathless with muscle memory—his lungs wheezing because they remember wheezing, not out of need.

Baby? he calls out.

But you reply. A murmur too lusty to be a giggle—Max’s body coils up at the sound, taut and needy, and carries him toward the sound. He forgets, briefly, who you’re with. Believes he’ll find you in your bedroom alone beneath the covers, hands fluttering as you bring yourself to the edge of release. How beautiful you’d be, gasping in pleasure. He might close his eyes and pretend it’s him drawing out your every breathy, needy sound.

You’ve left the bedroom door cracked, and though in death he’s no longer bound by silly things like permission, Max has since you moved in found himself in the habit of respecting closed doors. Walls are chalk outlines over which he’s free to step, but he doesn’t, not if you’ve closed the gate. He’s not a monster. Or not a total monster—whatever, semantics. Point is that he only spies on your showers if you’ve cracked the door. Indulges in the soft moments of you sleeping only when you’ve left him that sliver of room.

Like the room you’ve left him now: slender and tempting, this stripe of your bedroom wall. A Degas print in a copper frame, the wooden post at the foot of your bed.

Your sweet voice cooing here, like this, and the creak of your mattress.

Something black and silty sinks in Max’s stomach when he steps inside. Not the rage from moments ago. Something darker, heavier. Jealousy. Half-sheeted by your duvet, the dumbass you’ve brought home rocks above you, his shirt gone, his beefcake arm blocking the view of your chest, and though you’re making all the right sounds it’s obvious this isn’t any good.

He’s not fucking you right.

Your hands clawing at his back are too stiff. Your yeses a beat too slow. As the idiot pants—thrusts choppy and graceless—Max watches your hand tap his shoulder blade as you breathe, “Flip over.”

“What?” bumbles the guy, his hips stalling. “Oh shit—fuck yeah. Okay.”

Another grunt, then he rolls off and Max gets a glimpse of you—your red bra lacy and see through, your nipples so pretty underneath. It just isn’t right, the awkwardness of this colossal douchebag as he settles on his back and you ruck back the covers to straddle him, not at all breathless, hardly even flushed, your hair all messy at the back from disappointing friction.

“Shit,” the guy gasps as you sink down on him, clamping those boorish hands onto your waist.

You don’t even whine, not even as you start to rock, though his breathing gallops beneath you. Guy looks two seconds from nutting while you look years away from anything even loosely resembling an orgasm—your rhythm changing often as you try and fail to find a pace that suits you. “Christ—oh my god, ” the guy groans.

Max sucks his front teeth, tongue soiled with venom.

“Touch me,” you sigh, bouncing now. The curtain of your hair shivering down your back.

This guy fucks like he’s never touched a woman before. At your request his knuckles only pale, fingers pinching you tighter. That’s not what she means, Max growls. Touch her fucking clit, you pin-dicked imbecile. Can’t fucking please a woman, should be fucking ashamed—

His pointless ranting is cut short by a sudden moan as the guy lifts you off him in time to come all over his stomach, chest rapid in its heaving, upper lip snarled in pleasure he doesn’t have the goddamn decency to return to you. For a long moment you hover above him, waiting, but his head just slumps back against the pillow, satisfied.

Done.

He’s actually done. Motherfucker.

When you crawl off him to sit back against your headboard—arms crossing over your stomach self-consciously—Max sees red. Sees fire. Sees the roiling magma at the center of the earth where someone oughta make this fucker take a nice hot bath.

He’d do this right. He’d fuck you properly, have you coming apart at the seams, go down on you until you beg for his cock and edge himself for as long as it takes to have you screaming his name. Can’t you see that? Can’t you feel him here, right now? Can’t you feel how bad he wants you? Can’t you imagine how much better he’d be? How good he’d make you feel?

Letting out an airy chuckle, the brute wipes the back of his hand across his sweaty brow and pushes himself to his feet. Redresses with a goddamn smirk on his face—not one of cruelty, but it might as well be. He thinks this is a job well done. Time to go home.

A peck to your lips, then he’s rattling on about calling you, seeing you again, maybe Thursday? Friday? While you just sit there, blinking up at him in disbelief. “Sure,” you say, dazed and not quite thinking. “I’ll call you.”

Yeah, she’s not calling you, Max snarls, following the guy out of the room. Watching as the jackass plucks his jacket from the back of your barstool, steps over the mess of seltzer without a thought to clean it up for you, and waltzes right out the door. Not a care in the goddamn world.

Though he hears you get up shortly after to use the bathroom, you don’t emerge from your bedroom and Max doesn’t disturb you. He spends that time in the kitchen, grabbing and grabbing and grabbing at the dish towel hung over the handle on the oven door, trying to pull it off.

For at least an hour, his hand glides through the towel as if it’s water, not a flutter or sway in the fabric. Not even a brush, a compromise. It just hangs there, indignant. Mocking him. Deaddeaddeaddeaddead. Maybe it’s the Senior Sales Manager in him, the apex predator at the top of the food chain—but Max can do this all night. He’s not backing down, not letting a stupid fucking towel get the better of him. That lazy curtain of terrycloth will disintegrate before he waves the white flag.

Beyond the picture frame windows that stare out into the barren, colorless street, the sun has shied to navy blue, letting out the round-mouthed moon, and you have not emerged from your bedroom for hours. He wants to check on you, ask if you’re okay. Frankly, baby, he’s getting a little worried. On the next sweep of his hand, the towel gives up the ghost; Max pulls it from the oven handle, marveling at the toothy fabric. He’s holding it, really holding it, all on his own.

Thank fuck he’s not haunting the office. If any of those bull-brained fucks saw him now, as he kneels on your kitchen floor, he’d have to die all over again. Somehow. The technicals aren’t important—what’s important is that no one’s here to see him on his fucking knees, mopping up the spilled drink. Something like joy burbles in his chest when he reaches for the can and seizes it, placing it safely on your counter. The floor dry and shining again, clean.

Max folds the towel carefully and returns it to the rack.

As if on cue, the bedroom door croaks down the hall and you emerge. A huge t-shirt slumps from your frame; you’ve tied your hair up, put your glasses back on. Dressed down for the last dregs of night, rubbing the back of your hand in one eye, tired.

You look so, so tired.

I’d rub your shoulders, baby, Max sighs quietly and though you won’t hear him, it still—after three whole months—doesn’t feel any less right to hope.

He steps out of your way as you round the corner into the kitchen with a yawn, hands clasped behind his back, cheek dimpled and eyes alight. Just like he wanted, just like he hoped, your eyes fall immediately to the floor where the can is missing, the spill wiped. Lashes flickering—the towel dark at the hem on its handle, the empty can on the counter. Your brows pinch low over your nose, curious.

Pretty good for a dead guy, Max grins.

How sweet, that lifting flinch at your mouth’s sharp, pink corner. The soft hm you make in reply. It’s not much, but this strange, fluttery feeling in the dark cavity one might wrongly call his heart? It doesn’t feel half bad.

Not bad at all.

He’s getting better at it. Not great, but the projections look good. Give him a little time, he’ll have this whole place dancing. Put on a big show, announce himself properly.

In the meantime he practices when you’re not looking. Small stuff—he opens cupboards. Shuts them. Hits start on the dryer when you forget to press it yourself. Some days he wastes reaching for things and coming up empty, but now again his luck sparkles. Things move. Bend to his will. Isn’t long until he can hold it for a while—gathering the matter to run the vacuum around, or reorganize your pantry. A tidy house makes a tidy mind, baby. No good living in a dump. You’re so busy, always cracking around like a ping pong ball, and hell, it’s not like Max can leave this place, get a little air in his idle lungs.

He likes being useful to you. Likes that tiny smirk on your lips when you find something fixed or organized for you, even though you likely chalk it up to having forgotten that you did it yourself. Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t need the credit. Isn’t that strange? How often he smiles at you? How perfect he finds the taste of your name.

Winter has arrived like a secret—whispered about for weeks and then suddenly let loose on the world. You come home from work in the evenings with icing sugar hair. Usually unbothered, far as Max can tell, but today you stagger in flushed from the cold and dark in the eyes.

Shit, baby, Max says when he sees you. Bad day?

Sniffling, you drop your coat right there in the hall, let it puddle over your shoes, and stalk off on a mission, barreling into the kitchen. The fridge door rips open, casting blue-white light over your face, and you must feel a hell of a lot worse than you feel because you don’t even blink at the contents inside. All the shelves wiped clean, the bottles arranged with the labels facing out, those wilted, bad greens deposited in the compost. You just reach in for the half-drunk bottle of Riesling that to Max smelled mostly like juice and swipe off the lid.

You chug on your way to the couch, leaving the fridge door open behind you.

Max closes it when you’ve gone, the TV already switched on in the living room, the lilting strings of the Desperate Housewives theme song swimming through the air. When he turns the corner he finds you wrapped in the throw blanket he now knows the texture of—supple and velvet, weighted and warm—with the wine bottle nestled in your lap.

A silver tear hangs on your cheek.

Really bad day, whatever it was.

He wants to ask. Wants to pull you into his arms and pet back your hair. Wants to lick that sadness from your skin.

Maybe this isn’t the show he’s imagined. Not much of a reveal—but you look so small right now, alone on your couch. Wine splashing in its bottle as you bring it to your lips, not bothering to wipe that tear away. If Max had a heart that beat, it’d stutter as he watches you. Helpless isn’t something he cares to feel.

No time like the present. Max sighs, scrubs a hand down his face as he ticks his jaw to one side, and nods. Alright, baby, he relents. Hang on.

On his way to the bathroom he cracks all the knuckles on his left hand, rolls his neck, swings his shoulders. Stretches himself long and limber like he’s about to run—but this is it. Curtain’s coming up. Time to find out if one glimpse of him sends you sprinting for the hills. Though he casts no reflection, Max stands before the mirror hanging over the sink and straightens his tie, corrects his lapels. Old habits, but it never hurts to look good.

Hand waggling, then, over the tissue box on the counter. He slaps himself hard, sending a delicious ripple of pain across his cheeks. Come on, he begs. Don’t play hard to get.

The box lifts.

Here he comes: tissue box in hand, stalking tall and proud down your hallway with his chin up, shoulders back. Gets the momentum rolling, doesn’t hesitate, just waltzes in.

Your head snaps in his direction, eyes round and brows rising. To you it must look like the tissues float through the air to your side. Max steps back with butterflies jittering in his bones.

Don’t be scared, he pleads. It’s just me.

With your head cocked to one side you consider this, though you’ve not heard his voice. Probably for the best. Came out a little softer than he meant it to, a little needy, and that’s just not becoming of a man like him. He has a reputation to uphold, even now.

After a long, bludgeoning pause you click your tongue, swiping one white tissue from the box to turn over in your hand. Deliberating. Then your face cracks, possessed by a slithering smirk. Your gaze flickering so close to him it’s almost as if you’ve looked him in the eye.

Deep in his chest, Max feels a strange throb—his stirring heart—as you say out loud,

“I knew someone was there.”

dividers by @saradika-graphics - tag list & some mutuals!

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#max phillips #max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips smut #pedro pascal #bloodsucking bastards #pedro pascal characters #myfics #almostfoxglove #fic: theprettiest #monstersmash2024 #fanfic #vampire fic

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blue-aconite · 1 year

Text

two for one || j.h.s

Summary: A visit to the local shelter brings not one, but two surprises.

Warnings: No use of y/n, fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

Pairings: Jake Seresin x reader

Authors Note: Based on these pictures. I saw them and couldn’t get it out of my head. Thanks to my lovely betas @wkndwlff & @ryebecca, you’re the best!

When your boss told you to take Tuesday off, you wasted no time in signing off and putting your work phone on ‘do not disturb.’ You had been logging a lot of overtime lately, brokering a deal with a new business partner and overlooking the expansion of the Boston office. Luckily you could stay in San Diego working remotely with the team from Boston, letting you avoid the time consuming travel across the country.

You had washed three loads of laundry and cleaned out both the pantry and the fridge. After a quick stop at your favourite deli for lunch, you headed out to the grocery store. You opened up all the windows when you got home, putting away the groceries and then taking on the task of cleaning the condo. You had some time to kill before starting dinner, so you headed outside to relax on your hammock with a book.

You must have dozed off because the next thing you know, your boyfriend is shaking you awake. “What time is it?” you groaned, stretching your limbs.

“A little after three. Last class got cancelled, so I figured I’d head home early to surprise my girlfriend. Looks like you’ve been busy today.” You hummed as he pressed a quick kiss to your lips, pulling you up from the hammock.

“I just wanted to get everything done so we could enjoy our weekend off together.”

Jake wrapped his arms around you, kissing the tip of your nose. “I have a surprise for you.”

“What?” You looked up at him, a playful smile on his face, eyes vibrant with joy.

“Remember how we talked about getting a dog?” Jake had a childlike excitement surrounding him, that cheeky grin you loved so much in place.

“Fanboy was showing me pictures of this shelter and I thought that we might go and take a look.”

You lit up, bouncing on your feet. “Really? Because I know you said you weren’t sure and -,” Jake cut you off, kissing you again.

“Yes sugar, I’m sure. The shelter closes at 6pm, so I figured we’d head there now and we can pick up dinner on our way home.” You were already heading towards his truck before he finished speaking. Jake followed behind, smiling at your childlike glee. “I just gotta change, baby. Then we can go.”

“Aw, baby look.” You gestured to the German Shepherd who was snoozing in the corner. Jake trailed behind you. The shelter was fairly empty, both with people and animals. Lisa, a volunteer, explained that they recently had a “family day” and a lot of the animals had been adopted.

“We’ve really seen an upswing in adoption recently, it’s honestly so great seeing these animals find their forever home.” Lisa spoke with Jake as you wandered around. An odd sight in the back captured your attention and you kneeled down to get a better look.

Your heart melted as you set your sights upon a tiny dog, all curled up into a ball. What melted it even further is the cat sleeping by its side. They looked so cute, all cuddled up with each other. The tag on the outside told you that their names were Ares and Apollo. You turned around to call on Jake, only for him to be right behind you.

“What’s this?” He asked as he kneeled down next to you. The dog blinked at the two of you sleepily before snuggling its face into the cat’s fur.

“Look at them baby, they’re so cute.” You gushed, wiggling in your excitement.

Lisa wandered over to the two of you. “Ah, you’ve found our little makeshift family. They were found together, abandoned in a box by the side of the highway. They’re most likely from the same home. We’ve estimated that they’re both around a year old. We tried to separate them at first, but they were both so unhappy that we just let them be together. It’s made adopting a bit more difficult. Not a lot of people want to take on the responsibility of both. But we’re adamant that they go together.”

Your mind is made up the moment she stops talking and you turn to Jake, pout in place, as you prepare to plead with him. He rolled his eyes at you. “We said one dog darlin’.”

“Yes, I know, but look at them! And they have to be together.” Jake raised an eyebrow, but you were determined. “And! When we’re not home, they won’t be lonely because they’ll have each other! I know we said a dog but I’ve always wanted a cat, too. Please, baby?”

Jake was quiet for a moment, watching the little animals sleep. The dog, Apollo, had a fair coat - white mixed with light brown. The cat, Ares, on the other hand, had pitch black fur.

“I guess we need to pick up a couple of cat things, too, then.” Jake said, and you squealed, throwing your arms around him.

You stayed with them as Jake talked to Lisa, getting everything in order for the adoption. The dog yawned as you tickled its belly, almost squishing the cat in the process as he chased your fingers. The cat was more apprehensive but after some ear scratches and treats, it let you pick it up.

Jake returned with a carrier in hand, letting the dog sniff him before picking him up. “Hey, buddy. You’re gonna come home with us, isn’t that great?”

You packed all the essentials into the truck before thanking Lisa and heading home.

Setting everything up was fairly simple. The litterbox went into the laundry room and Jake scattered various toys and a bed in a corner of the living room. You insisted on getting a water fountain and you set up their bowls in the kitchen. A second bed was placed at the foot of your bed.

After making a grand showing of the litter box for Ares, and telling them where to eat, you walked around with the little creatures, showing them their new home.

They both warmed up to their new surroundings quite quickly and before you know it, they’re both snoozing off between you and Jake on the couch as you watched the news.

“Baby?”

Jake hummed, absentmindedly scratching Ares behind his ears. Apollo is cuddled into your side, tongue sticking out.

“Thank you. I love you.”

Jake lifted his arm and you moved gently, as not to startle Apollo and cuddled into his side. “I love you, too. And to be honest, I don’t think I could have gone home without them. They’re perfect.”

“Hah, I knew it. You loved them as soon as you saw them, too, right?” Jake rolled his eyes, nudging your side.

“Yeah, I did. But one of us have to be responsible.” You giggled, lifting Ares so he could rest in your lap. An idea suddenly struck you and you squished your face against the side of Jake’s arm to stop the laughter.

Jake nudged you again. “What are you laughing about now?”

You snorted, trying to hide your amusement. “You’re totally gonna be one of those cat dads who said they didn’t want a cat but secretly loves it.”

He made a noise of protest but stopped as Ares abandoned you and crawled onto Jake’s lap. Apollo was snoozing between the two of you. “Don’t tell anyone.”

You smiled. “I won’t. Besides, it’s good training.”

“For what?” Jake murmured, tickling Apollo’s tummy.

You found yourself falling in love with him all over as you watched him fawn over the two of them. When you first met him, you had doubted that he would want something serious and settle down. Now, two years later, you couldn’t be more wrong.

Jake was everything you wanted and more. And as you watched him with the two newest additions to your future, you knew he would make a great dad one day. But for now, you would have to be parents to two little four legged babies and you couldn’t be more happy.

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#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #top gun maverick fic #fe writes #jake hangman seresin

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