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atths--twice · 5 months

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Breakfast and Bed

Lazy Sunday mornings are meant for breakfast in bed... or breakfast and THEN bed...

She watched Mulder darting back and forth in his kitchen, mumbling under his breath as he attempted to make scrambled eggs and toast.

“Sure you don’t need any help?” she asked, biting her bottom lip to keep from smiling.

“As I previously stated, no thank you. I’ve got it covered, Scully.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, but he did not hear as a pan slammed onto the stove top and she cleared her throat to cover her laughter.

Crossing her bare legs, she lifted the collar of Mulder’s t-shirt to her nose and closed her eyes as she breathed in the combination of laundry soap, fabric softener, his cologne that no matter how many times the shirt was washed still continued to linger, and the scent that was simply him.

“Hmm,” she hummed again, opening her eyes and smiling as she heard him swearing quietly.

It was Sunday morning and he had promised her breakfast last night as they had fallen asleep, their naked bodies nestled together.

“You have food here?” she had asked skeptically and his low rumbling chuckle had caused her to grin.

“I’ve started stocking the fridge more now that I have a lady friend sleeping over.”

“You have a lady friend? When do I get to meet her?” she had teased him and he chuckled again, his fingers running so lightly across her stomach, she had quivered with a moan.

“It’s you,” he had whispered and she smiled, his lips on her neck drawing out another moan. “How does eggs and toast sound?”

“Better than nothing. Or expired ketchup.”

“Watch it, or that’s what you’ll be getting.”

“No, I don’t think so. You wouldn’t do that to your lady friend,” she had said and he had laughed through his nose, kissing her hair as his arms tightened around her.

So now he was making the breakfast he had promised as she waited patiently, listening to him and smelling his shirt, so achingly happy it was borderline disgusting.

“So, uh,” Mulder said, walking into the room in a pair of black pajama pants and a gray t-shirt and carrying two cups of steaming coffee. “The toaster is being a little temperamental. I’m remaking the toast.”

“No rush,” she said, taking the coffee he offered as he set his own cup down onto the table.

She saw his eyes glance at her legs and she raised her eyebrows at him. He shook his head and started to walk back to the kitchen, but she grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“The toast…” he said and she shook her head and tilted it back for a kiss, not caring about the toast. He bent his head and met her lips, kissing her quickly. “It’s just that it’s the last of the bread if this burns too.” Kissing her once more, he hurried out of the room as she watched him with a smile.

God, she loved him so much.

“Well,” he called it out, as she heard the toaster popping. “It’s not burnt per se, but also not exactly as I would have wanted it.”

“I’m sure it’s fine however it is,” she said and he scoffed as he walked back into the room carrying a cooking sheet that held their plates of food, butter, jelly, and utensils.

“I know you, Scully. I know how you like your toast.”

“And how’s that?” she asked with a smile, leaning back as he set her plate in front of her.

“Lightly toasted for most breads, but slightly more for sourdough as you like the crunch of it,” he replied, sitting down and grinning at her as she raised an eyebrow. “My toaster seems to think heavily toasted to burnt is the only preference today. But… I managed to catch it before it reached its goal.”

“It’s appreciated,” she said, her smile growing as she looked down at the toasted bread, which was only slightly too dark. Realizing he was very quiet, she looked up and saw he was staring at her. She tilted her head, silently asking if everything was alright.

“I just…” he said softly. “I wanted it to be better. I had an image in my head of how it should be and…”

She rose out of her seat and placed a hand on his cheek as she kissed him, hoping to convey how much she loved both the meal and him for trying so hard. He wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her close as she kissed him again.

“It’s perfect,” she whispered, kissing him gently one more time before stepping back with a smile and sitting down.

“Hmm,” he hummed, nodding and letting out a deep breath.

“Could you pass me the utensils?” she asked and he nodded again as he gave her a fork and knife.

They ate their meal and she made sure to eat every bit of the toast, meeting his eyes as she sucked jelly from the tip of her finger. He smiled and nodded as he picked up his coffee cup and took a drink.

She placed her empty dishes onto the tray and picked up her own coffee cup as he set his own down and scooted his chair a little closer to her. She smiled as his hand covered her knee, his fingers circling around lightly.

“What’s this from?” he asked and she glanced down, watching his thumb run across a scar on her knee.

“The playground. Third grade. Tommy Sinclair,” she said, setting her cup down. “He was in my grade, but a year older as he’d been held back in first grade. He was a lot bigger than most of us, me included. And he had a bad temper.”

“He hit you with something?” Mulder asked, his forehead creasing in concern as he looked at the scar, his thumb halting in its movement.

“No,” she said, turning slightly in her chair and touching the scar, her fingers grazing his hand. “He was a bully and everyone was afraid of him.”

“But not you?” he asked, looking up at her with a smile.

“Not exactly,” she chuckled. “I mean I was, but I also wasn’t. You grow up with an older brother… it toughens you up a bit.”

“Especially one like Bill,” he murmured and she laughed, squeezing his hand.

“True,” she agreed. “Tommy had been “claiming” a swing every recess for about three days. He would run out and say it was his and wouldn’t let anyone use it. Sometimes even he wouldn’t use it to swing, but just to sit on and glare at us. He yelled at anyone who came close to him or tried to get him to move. And sometimes he got physical as well.”

“So what happened?” he asked, his thumb running gently over the scar again.

“Well,” she said, remembering the day in question. “He was bigger, like I said, but I was faster. When we were sent out for lunch and recess, I didn’t eat, but ran straight to the swing and refused to get off of it when he came out to take it.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Mulder asked, shaking his head and smiling.

“He was so angry. Got in my face and yelled. Called me mean names. Made fun of my hair-”

“Oh… man was playing with fire. Literally,” he said, nodding to her hair and she smiled.

“I didn’t care what he said,” she continued. “Until one of my friends yelled at him and he started to stalk toward her. I knew he would push her or something worse and so I left the swing and ran up to stand between them. He was surprised to see me there so suddenly and he quickly went to run back to the swing, but someone else was already on it. He shouted and then turned to me again and said he hated me and it was all my fault. He shoved me hard and I stumbled back. I stayed upright for a second or two, but then I twisted and I tripped over my own feet. As I fell, I hit a small rock and since I was wearing a skirt and had nothing to buffer it, it ripped my knee open. Blood started running down my leg and everyone stood frozen as they looked at it. My friend started to cry and scream while I couldn’t stop staring at the cut and wondering what had happened. I looked up and saw that Tommy was standing closer to me with his mouth open as he stared at the blood. A teacher came running over and yelled at Tommy to help her get me up and to be careful, all as the blood was still running down my leg and staining my white knee sock.”

“Jesus,” Mulder whispered and she nodded.

“I had to leave school early and get two stitches in my knee, which hurt like a bitch over the next couple of weeks. It was itchy, hurt when I bent it, and didn't allow me to play and climb like I was used to doing.”

“And Tommy?” Mulder asked, his thumb ceasing as he looked at her. She smiled and glanced down at the scar on her knee.

“It’s funny,” she said quietly. “When we were waiting to get the stitches, I was so angry at him. I wanted him to be in trouble, hoped he would be in fact. I imagined the way he might be reprimanded in front of everyone. But then, my mom told me about a boy she went to school with who was similar to Tommy. His name was James and he was the biggest kid there, always picking on the others. He stole their lunches or took toys they may have brought from home, whatever he wanted really. She said that they all hated him, but one day when he was harassing kids for their lunches, she willingly gave him some cookies her mom had made the day before. He took it without saying anything and walked away. Later though, when she was walking home, he caught up to her and thanked her. She said when she first saw him, she was ready to either run or hit him, whichever it came down to.”

“I would’ve liked to have seen that,” Mulder laughed and she smiled with a nod, his thumb moving over her scar once again.

“James told her that his mom was sick and he hadn’t had cookies like that in a long time. She said he started to cry and again she wasn’t sure what to do, but she asked if he wanted to come home with her for a little while and have more of the cookies. So he did and after an afternoon spent around people who made an effort to care about his well being, he was different to people. Not completely a changed man, but different.”

“Maggie Scully, wielding her magic. Well, not Scully yet, I suppose, but you know what I mean,” he said and she laughed softly.

“I do.”

“So you did the same then?” he asked and she shook her head.

“Not exactly,” she said. “I missed the next day of school, but then when I did come back, Tommy wasn’t by the swings at recess. I saw him out by the hill by himself and I hobbled over to talk to him. When he saw me, I saw him consider running and it made me think about my mother’s story. I kept walking and I stood in front of him, looking up and not backing down. He looked at the bandage on my knee and shook his head. He mumbled that he didn’t mean it and that he was sorry. I asked if he would push me on the swings and he stared at me in surprise, no doubt thinking I was teasing him. But I wasn’t and I even offered to push him if he would like it. He agreed to push me and we walked over there slowly and waited our turn. He did push me, hesitantly at first, but we didn’t say anything else about it after that. And when the principal of the school talked to me and my mom, as my dad was deployed at the time, I told him it had been an accident and not Tommy’s fault.”

“Huh,” Mulder said quietly.

“He moved away about a month later. His father was in the navy too and he got stationed somewhere else and they had to leave. He came over to our house to say goodbye and I never saw him again. I hope he changed and dealt with whatever demons he had been fighting.” She smiled at him and he shook his head slightly as he stared at her. “What?”

“You know the stories or movies where a person is born with abilities?” he asked, a small smile slowly spreading across his face. “Or you read and you can tell what their future will be because of their personality and how they approach situations? As though it’s destiny being foretold and all that?”

“Yeah,” she said, tilting her head as she continued to smile.

“If we were reading or watching the story of your life, whether the choice was placed upon you or it was simply fated to happen at some point, in every life I believe you would be some form of healer,” he said and she drew in a breath. “You would be someone who finds the broken and heals them in a big way, or something so minuscule, they may not even know it happened. But it did and their lives are irrevocably changed as a result,” he said and she let out the breath she had taken as she leaned forward to kiss him.

His hand moved from her knee to where the bottom of his shirt hit her at mid-thigh. Their kiss deepened and his hand moved higher, slipping further under the hem of the shirt before suddenly pulling back as he broke from their kiss.

“Did you find another scar you wanted to question me about?” she asked breathlessly, knowing full well why he had reacted the way he did.

“You’re… you’re not wearing any underwear,” he whispered and she frowned in mock concern.

“Am I not?” she asked and he stared at her, his fingers slowly inching up her bare hip once again.

“You’ve been… been sitting here all this time without underwear,” he stated in a low voice and she suppressed a shiver as her breath increased.

“I have,” she confirmed.

“I had no idea.”

“Your shirts are long on me. It was easy to disguise.”

“Apparently,” he whispered, his hand opening and closing as his fingers scratched gently against her skin.

And this time she did shiver as she let out a breathy moan and her eyes closed.

“Should I have told you?” she asked, opening her eyes and licking her lips.

“Hell no. I never would have made it through breakfast if I had known,” he said and she laughed softly.

“True,” she agreed, shifting slightly as she leaned closer. “But you know now, so what are you going to do about it?” He squeezed her hip and she gasped, desire immediately shooting through her.

“Seeing as how the norm is usually breakfast shared while in bed and yet we’re out here, I’d say it’s time to move this back to bed. Do you agree?”

“Wholeheartedly,” she said and they both quickly stood to their feet, pushing one another toward the bedroom.

She laughed as he caught her and pressed her against the doorframe of his room, kissing her slowly and ramping up her desire for him.

Pulling back, he took her hand and led her into the room where their clothes fell together to the floor.

She gasped, moaned, and whimpered as he brought her to climax twice, her heart racing and body shaking each time.

“You do have more scars I’d love to hear about,” he said later as she lay with her head on his chest, her eyes heavy with sleep. “You distracted me, in the very best way possible I might add, or I would have asked about more.”

“Ask me later,” she said, cuddling closer to him. “After you’ve made me my next meal.”

“Will you repeat your outfit choice?”

“Maybe. You’ll have to wait and see.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, his fingers running through her hair.

“Mmm, or maybe I’ll reverse it,” she said, smiling when his fingers froze in their movements.

“Scully,” he whispered and she let out a breathy laugh, already imagining his face if she sat down topless at the table.

Maybe, she thought, kissing his chest as he began to massage her scalp.

Maybe…

#the x files #msr #xf fanfic #love #happy #developing relationship #season 7 #breakfast #cuddling & snuggling #post coital snuggling #sleepng together #naked cuddling #sharing stories #sharing clothes #kissing

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stillfrownyclownlol · 6 days

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ἐρυθρός

In the morning, it's red.

Spots of crimson in the darkness behind his eyes, as he digs the heels of his palms into the hollowed-out cavities underneath his brows. He knows his eyes are there, it just doesn't feel like it.

get up

Plain red as he stares into the mirror, blinking slowly, letting himself get used to his contacts. Letting himself get used to being him. His knuckles are white around the sink, and his arm is still sore from the night before.

go downstairs

Blood red on the table. A pain to clean, but not a big deal. Nobody's home, after all, not even himself.

In the day, it's red.

Gleaming, firetruck red of glossy lockers, dented from roughhousing, covered in stickers, scribbled on with black marker. Worn and weathered from hate, fondness, indifference, love.

time for school

It's the sickly-sweet red of cold ketchup covering soggy fries, and he eats and eats and it all tastes like dust in his mouth. His friends are talking, saying things, but none of it quite reaches his ears.

which class is next? i can't remember

It's the burgundy of her hoodie. His hoodie? He didn't know at what point he'd been wearing it, when they'd started sharing it, when it slowly started staying over at her house more and more often. It's fine. She can keep it.

In the evening, it's red.

Pop-art red, that bright red of soda cans and plastic packaging, specially chosen, that sparks hunger or desire or whatever emotion you feel when you want to buy something equivalent to battery acid.

eat something, you'll need the energy

It's wine-red, or maroon, or purple-red, or whatever fucking color wine is. He knows he's been banned from the liquor cabinet, but his parents don't know he's figured out how to pick locks and he intends to keep it that way. He rolls the bottle between his hands, semi-translucent, liquid sloshing heavily, and he debates chugging the whole thing, just to feel something. Or maybe smash it, gut himself with the shattered end. But the momentum is gone, and it feels like too much effort.

just go to bed

It's neon red, the numbers on his alarm clock burning themselves into his eyes, even when he closes them he can see the seconds ticking down, like sand slipping through his fingers. He's out of time, you see, he has none at all.

At night, it's red.

It's the sky, reflecting the same color in his eyes back like a mirror, unmoving and unchanging. Or is he the one that isn't moving?

please

It's her hair, her head buried into his chest, breaths soft and shallow, and he touches a playful curl to his lips.

please, Aiden

It's her cheeks, and he can't tell if it's blush or blood, and when he wipes a thumb over her freckles, his fingers come back warm.

please, don't do this to me

It's his blood, thick and clogging and cruel, all the words he wants to say are stuck in it, fighting and straining helplessly, like an insect trapped in honey.

it's not fair, you can't- you can't do this-

It's her lips, and his blood stains her teeth, and the kiss is bitter. On his tongue, he tastes love.

please, please, I love you, I love you

He is dying, but his spirit feels as great and as powerful as a king.

me too

#school bus graveyard #sbg #school bus graveyard webtoon #sbg (webtoon)#aiden clark #ashlyn banner #aidlyn #aiden x ashlyn #i also want to post sad things!!!#i actually really hate this lol

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absurdthirst · 2 years

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The Election {Max Lord x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: People being assholes, comments about physical appearance, politicians, public sex, protected sex, public scandal

Comments: Meeting Senator Max Lord in the diner where you work one night leads to a very unusual arrangement. Sex behind the building. Changing both of your lives in a very real way.

A/N: Thot based off this filthy gif but is no way representative of the reader.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You sigh, wiping down the table after the teenagers had effectively thrown every single fry on the floor and squirted ketchup all over the table. You had told them to stop but they just laughed at you before they left. They didn’t leave a tip. You toss the dirty rag into the bowl in the kitchen, leaning against the counter just beside the window that looks out into the diner. “You’ll never guess who just sat down in your section.” Sally says, appearing through the swinging door, and you frown, turning your head to look into your section.

“Who’s that?” You frown.

“Senator Maxwell Lord. He’s running for re-election.” Sally declares and you scoff, adjusting your apron.

“I don’t follow politics.”

Sally sighs, “you should. He really is dreamy. Single dad too. It’s hot. A powerful man.”

You snort, “sounds like you should go serve him.”

Sally shakes her head, “no. Hopefully he tips well. You need it more than me. Go.” She orders and you push on the door to make your way over to your section, approaching the Senator sitting at the table.

Max sighs and looks down at the menu, the selection here a lot better than the greasy spoons he has been visiting while he’s been on the campaign trail. Bypassing the burgers because he didn’t want to have anyone, mainly the man sitting opposite him, commenting about the cholesterol or how unhealthy he was eating. The California grilled chicken sandwich looks good but he damn sure is going to get the fries. “Now we have a campaign stop tomorrow morning and we need to make sure that you make an appearance at the children’s hospital. Kiss a few sick kids, make a donation that is in full view of the cameras.”

Max rolls his eyes at his campaign manager, shaking his head at how callous he sounds, visiting sick kids for political visibility. “No.” He tells him. “I will donate privately and you can photograph me going into the hospital but if the parents don’t want their kids photos taken, that’s it.” He warns the overeager man. “No persuading them. Those kids are sick and shouldn’t be exploited for votes.”

You walk over, brushing down your apron, and you pull your notepad out, grabbing the pen from behind your ear. “Good afternoon.” You tell the two men your name before asking what they want to drink. “Diet Coke.” Both men say and you nod, “no problem. I’ll be right back with those and then I’ll take your order.” The dark eyes of the senator focus on you and you find it a little hard to breathe with how handsome he is. Clearly well groomed with his expensive suit and watch that costs more than your car to appear in charge and ready to lead. A true politician.

Watching you walk away, Max ignores the assessing hum of the other man as he admires the curve of your ass. It’s been a long time since he’s really noticed a woman. First he was going through his divorce and then it was lack of availability. Anyone around him was off limits, he wasn’t going to be that kind of politician. No matter what, he didn’t want a sex scandal undermining the kind of change he was trying to bring about.

You bring the drinks back, setting them down and ignoring the appraising look from the man in the blue suit. The kind brown eyes are deceptive considering his career in politics. “What can I get you to eat?” You ask.

“Are you on the menu?” The blue suit man winks and you offer him a tight smile.

“No. I am not. Only food available in a diner. I can tell you the specials though.”

He’s already decided what he wants but he smiles at you, the charming one that he uses on the campaign trail set aside for one that is grateful and almost hesitant. “Please.” He just wants to hear you talk, enjoying the way your voice sounds. “Your specials. What you would eat here.”

You are a little taken back, “oh, okay. Um, the specials are a double cheeseburger with bacon and a fried egg served with fries. We also have a meatloaf with mashed potatoes and a red wine jus. I could go with the burger.” You tell the senator with a wink.

He gives you a slow smile, enjoying the butterflies that erupt in his stomach at your playful wink. “Then I’ll have the burger, no mayo please.” He asks, “but I wouldn’t mind extra ketchup.” He winks back at you just as playfully.

You offer him a soft smile, sensing how charismatic he is, and you write down his order just as his companion says, “I’ll have the grilled chicken salad. Maxwell. You shouldn’t have the burger. You need to watch your weight. Maybe the waitress should too.” His blue eyes look at you, and your jaw drops.

“Excuse me?” You balk.

“Just sayin’ you might want to cut out the burgers and maybe get a boob job. Might get you out of this shithole diner.” He shrugs.

You scoff, “I’ll put your order in and maybe I can find the number of a dick extension doctor. You seem like you need one.” You snort, spinning on your heel to head into the kitchen, absolutely fuming at the audacity of the man.

“Jackson.” Max shakes his head at his campaign manager and frowns. “What the hell are you doing?” He huffs. “That was completely uncalled for, you- you know what?” He leans back and stares at the man. “Go back to the bus and make sure my speech is ready for tomorrow. I’ll get your food to go and bring it back to you.” Jackson huffs and argues with him for a few minutes but Max is adamant and the other man shuffles out of the restaurant.

You come back with the plates, still annoyed at the prick in the suit. “Where’s your friend? In the bathroom looking at himself in the mirror?” You ask, setting the senator’s burger down in front of him before you slam the chicken salad down on the table.

“He’s - he’s not my friend.” Max shuffles slightly and bites his lip. “I want to apologize for him, he’s my campaign manager and was completely out of line.” He apologizes. “What he said was wrong, you don’t need to lose weight, or a boob job.” He flushes when he realizes what he said and flusters. “I- I mean…You are perfect - perfectly fine just the way you are.”

You fluster at his words, his dark eyes are kind and you know you’re going to look him up when your shift ends. “Uh, thank you. Ketchup is over there.” You point at the bottle, “and I can pack up the salad for your…campaign manager. I just - I hope you don’t have the same morals as him. Especially if you’re gonna be representing this state.” You tilt your head.

“Well, I’ve already been representing the state, but I hope to continue to do so.” He admits. “But no, I don’t have the same morals as he does. I want to be honest and transparent with what I can do for my constituents and what I hope to accomplish for our state.”

You bite your lip, “I- I don’t really follow politics. I didn’t - I didn’t know who you were until my coworker told me.” Your confession has you glancing around the diner. “I’m just saying you might want a new campaign manager. One who isn’t an asshole.”

Max chuckles and leans back in the booth, throwing his arm along the back as he appraises you, enjoying how you speak your mind. “You know any good ones?” He asks, actually delighted you didn’t know who he was or have ten thousand questions that he needed to carefully answer so he wasn’t misquoted. “I wish we could just skip all the b.s. and just run off our principles.”

You chuckle, “unfortunately my Rolodex of campaign managers is empty. Surely the world would be a better place if politicians just told the truth? Although I doubt the population wants to hear it. I just don’t get involved in politics, I have too much of my own b.s going on to care.” You tell him honestly, “I’ll let you eat your meal.” You realize he hasn’t touched his burger.

“Again, I’m sorry he was an ass.” He tells you as he reaches for the bottle of ketchup. “The burger looks delicious and I’m sure you are busy enough without taking up more of your time.” He knows you have other tables, he actually enjoys that he isn’t special. Right now he is just a patron eating a burger.

You nod, walking away from him and you can feel his eyes on you. “Sooo how is the senator? Think he’s gonna leave a big tip?” Sally asks, and you chuckle.

“No. I- he’s…sweet. Not what I expected. His campaign manager is a dick but he’s nice. He seems like he actually wants to do some good.” You say as you lean against the counter and Sally raises her eyebrows.

“A politician who seems nice? Alert the media.” She jokes.

It’s rare that he isn’t wolfing down his food or having a working dinner. So it’s honestly a treat to be able to take his time and eat. He can’t help but watch you though. His eyes find you around the diner as he watches you go about your tasks, refilling drinks and serving customers. You are graceful and quite frankly beautiful. It’s been a long time since he’s met a woman so pretty and he’s honestly finding it hard to look away from you.

You eventually come back around to grab Max’s plate, taking it before you look down at him. “Looks like you enjoyed it.” You tease, glancing at the empty plate. He blushes a little and you think it’s cute. He’s cute. Sally said his wife had divorced him, too focused on her own career to go on the road with him.

“I did.” He nods and looks around. “I will have to bring Alistair here. My son.” He clarifies with a small smile as he thinks about the boy. “He loves a good cheeseburger and I spotted milkshakes on the menu.” He chuckles. “He would want a double chocolate.”

You smile, “you’ll have to bring him by. Cheeseburger and chocolate shake.” You tap your head, “I’ll try and remember in case you come back. Here’s your check.” You tell him, setting it down. “There’s no rush. Your…campaign managers salad has been wrapped up. I’ll give it to you when you leave.”

The bill is reasonable, and he wants to make sure that he leaves a good tip, especially because you had to deal with Jackson’s bullshit. Max digs out his wallet and slides the bills under the check and stands. Catching your attention with a smile. “I’ll take that box for him, even if he deserves to starve.” He jokes and gives you a tiny wink.

You nod, grabbing the takeout box with the salad from the counter. “Hope he doesn’t choke on the lettuce.” You snort flippantly.

Max offers you a wry smile, “knowing him he won’t eat it and will have a cigarette instead.”

You roll your eyes, “of course. Well…good luck Senator Lord.” You offer him a smile and he nods, “thank you.” You watch him leave, biting your lip as you realize how broad he is, and you wonder if he will be back. Shaking your head, you make your way over to the table, grabbing the check and when you cash it out, your eyes widen when you see the fifty dollar tip. “Holy shit.” You curse, eying the money before you put it in your apron, torn on whether to accept it or not. You know he’s gone so you won’t be able to return it. Maybe you can donate it. You need the money but this is a lot. Deciding to figure it out later, you get back to work.

Max thinks about that burger all day, deciding that he’s going to order them back to the diner from yesterday, he walks over to the driver. “I want to go back to the restaurant from last night.” He tells him. “Just me and one of the security guards.”

You look up as the bell rings above the door, your eyes widening slightly when you see Senator Lord walk in with a buff looking man wearing a suit - his security you’re assuming. “Hey. Table for two?” You ask, grabbing a couple of menus.

Shaking his head, Max gives you a smile. “No, Gunther doesn’t like sitting with me.” He tells you. “He’ll sit at the bar and order nothing, just to make himself seem more intimidating.” He jokes, knowing the man will at least order a coffee. But he doesn’t eat while he is out with Max so he can be alert. “I had to come back for another burger.”

You chuckle, setting one menu down before you guide Max to a booth in your section. “Diet Coke?” You ask, and he nods, smiling at you. You love how he blushes a little when you take his menu, his fingers brushing yours. “So you left me way too much money last time.” You say as you set his drink down after submitting his order to the kitchen. You take the money out of your apron and set it down on the table.

Max frowns and looks down at the money before he shakes his head and pushes it back towards you. “I know how much I left. You deserve it.” He murmurs, nodding towards it. “You were a lot more graceful than you should have been to my campaign manager and I know you work hard - like everyone in the service industry.”

Your jaw drops slightly, taken back by his genuine response. You know that most politicians would pull the same act to try and win over another voter but the gesture seems genuine. You pick up the money and tuck it into your apron, tilting your head at him. “You don’t seem like most politicians. You seem…real. Is that genuine or are you just that good an actor?” You ask, deciding to call him out on it.

Laughing at your brazen question, he shakes his head. “Not an actor.” He promises, giving a small shrug. “I grew up poor, very poor. I just know how the little people struggle while everyone else overlooks them.” He explains. “My mother cleaned houses and would cry if her clients would even leave an extra five dollars to tip her. It meant she could eat lunch that week too.”

You are taken back by his answer, figuring he’d been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. You smile at him, “not what I expected but I’m glad to hear you are not one of those upper class assholes looking to make money while pretending to work for his constituency.” He chuckles and you smile again, “I’ll go get your burger when it’s ready.”

Max looks around then diner again, watching a family have their meal while they interact with their two kids. That’s what he wants to work for, a family. The average people who just want to live a good life and raise their kids in a safe world. His own son counted amongst them.

You come back over with his burger, grateful your shift is nearly over with how bad your feet are aching, and you set it down along with the bottle of ketchup, remembering what he said about wanting extra. You look at him for a moment before you fluster, a little lost in his dark gaze, before you walk off to get him another refill on his soda.

When you bring the soda back Max motions to the seat across from him. “Sit down?” He asks, slightly shy but wanting to have you sit with him for a bit. “The diner isn’t very busy and I’m enjoying our banter.” If you say no, he will respect that, but he hopes you don’t.

You glance around the diner, seeing it’s quiet and your shift is nearly over, so you nod and take a seat. “So…must be lonely on your campaign bus, going from city to city.” You observe, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

Max nods. “Living in hotels or on the bus for weeks at a time isn’t as glamorous as you would think.” He admits. “I miss the simplicity of just sleeping in the same bed every night.” He chuckles. “It actually makes me miss D.C. when we are in session.” He jokes.

You chuckle, “wow. Must be bad. Guess it’s worse when you don’t have someone traveling with you to share your bed at night.” You are a little forward but you think he’s cute and honestly? It’s been a while for you. Not since your asshole of an ex cheated on you.

“Don’t I know it.” Max groans before he stops himself. He clears his throat and blushes slightly and looks away. “I just- there aren’t a lot of opportunities to meet someone new and I refuse to be another senator to has a fucking sex scandal to take away from the real issues.” He explains, hoping you don’t mind the language that slips out.

You hum in agreement, taking note of his broad shoulders. “What if - what if you were guaranteed that no one would know?” You ask cautiously, waiting for his reaction while you lean forward, offering him a glimpse down your button down dress the owner wants you to wear.

Max’s eyes drift down to your cleavage and then back up to your face. “I’m a red blooded man.” His voice is raspy, thicker than it had been before. “I’m not opposed to sex, but I wasn’t going to take advantage of the women that work on my campaign or my staff.” He clarifies. “I meet a beautiful woman and sex happens…well, hopefully she enjoys herself.”

“And if I say that my shift ends in ten minutes which seems to be enough time for you to eat and perhaps, you could come find me outside after you’ve paid your check?” You ask casually, tilting your head at him. He’s hot, the raspy tone in his voice has your thighs pressed together, and you can’t deny the thrill of fucking him without anyone knowing except the two of you is exhilarating.

Max blows out a breath, cock twitching and he watches your eyes to make sure your offer is genuine. “I would say that I will see you outside in 9 and a half minutes.” He promises, looking down at his food with a grin. “Maybe even nine minutes.”

You grin, “see you in nine minutes Senator.” You wink and stand up, swaying your hips as you walk away from his table without looking back. The next nine minutes drags by and you watch the seconds tick down as he scoffs his burger, eagerly slapping down some cash when he pays. You giggle, walking over to him to grab the bill. “Meet me outside in the alley.” You whisper, leaning closer as you pick up the cash. “Change?” You ask breathlessly. He shakes his head, barely able to breathe, and you smirk as you carry the check over to close it out before you clock out.

Max walks over to his guard and murmurs in his ear. All of the team that surrounds him have NDAs so he doesn’t have to worry about the man talking. The worst he could say was the the senator had sex with a woman in an alley. All consensual, but in public. Still, he needs to be aware of where Max is going. He nods, telling Max that he will be in the car. Swallowing, Max exits the diner and walks around the back, already starting to harden at the mere prospect of touching you.

You shove your apron in your locker and grab your purse, shouting a goodbye to your coworkers before you make your way outside to the alley where Maxwell is waiting. It’s dark outside now, the moon in the sky and it gives an intimate atmosphere to your rendezvous despite being by the dumpsters.

Max looks up from where he was staring at the condom in his hands, watching you walk up to him. “Lucky I had one of these.” He jokes, holding it up and biting his lip as you walk closer. “Fuck, you look pretty.” He groans. “Thought so from the very beginning.”

You stride towards him, loving how sweet he is and the fact that he has a condom in his wallet is endearing. He probably had to check it wasn't expired. You grip the back of his neck, dragging him towards you. "You're too fucking cute. Want you to fuck me, use me for your frustrations." You order before pressing your lips to his.

Max groans, quickly kissing you back and reaching up to cup the back of your neck to press into you. It’s been years since he’s had sex, as shameful as that is. His ex was the last woman he was with, concentrating on his career and Alistair when he has him. However, his body definitely remembers what to do, quickly pressing you against the wall of the diner and kissing down your throat, his hands sliding under your dress.

You gasp when he nips on the skin between your neck and your shoulder. “Fuck, Max.” You moan, snaking your hand between you to cup his hard cock through his expensive slacks. You whimper when his hands squeeze your ass, pulling you against him. “Want- want your fingers.” You confess, grinding against him.

His fingers dip under the band of your panties, practical cotton, but to him they are sexy. Parting your curls, his thick digits slide through your folds and he moans when he finds your clit and starts rubbing as he kisses down your chest and his teeth graze the top of your cleavage. “God.” He breathes out. “So fucking pretty.”

Moaning, you grind down onto his fingers, and you unbuckle his fancy belt, flicking the button his pants before you can reach in to grip his cock. “Fuck. You’re so thick.” You moan, pulling him out of his pants. His fingers work your clit and you are breathless at how good it feels already.

Groaning at your hand on his cock, he throbs for you. “Shit.” He hisses. Quickly twisting his wrist so he can sink two fingers into your thankfully wet cunt, he licks the top of your bra, wetting the white material and your skin underneath it.

“Oh God. Max, that- that feels good. Gonna make me cum.” You whine, grinding down onto his fingers and your grip on his cock slackens. It’s been so long since you had something other than your own fingers. “Fuck. Oh shit.” You hiss, trying to keep quiet as you clamp down on his thick digits.

He smothers his own whine against your skin, keeping his fingers pumping and moving in your gasping cunt. “That’s it. That’s it.” He croons quietly. Marveling at how tight you were squeezing them and soaking them with your pleasures. Your top finally opens and he bites down on your nipple over the material of your bra and sucks harshly with a groan as he works you through it.

You squeeze his cock, ready for you and you are now ready for him. “Come on baby. Want you inside of me.” You beg, gently pushing him back before you reach into his jacket pocket for the condom. Ripping it open before you roll it down his length.

Max groans and pushes you back against the wall. He reaches down and grips your leg and lifts it up over his hip. “You want me inside you, baby?” He asks, grasping his cock and starting to guide himself towards your cunt as you move your panties to the side.

You keep your panties to the side, gasping when he pushes into you. “Oh. Oh. Oh fuck.” You hiss, tilting your head back as he fills you up, stretching your walls. “Max. Max, baby. Fuck me.” You plead, gripping his neck.

Shuddering at the feel of your nails digging into the back of his neck. Making him hiss and drag his hips back to snap them forward again, burying his cock back in your heat. “Fuck.” Growling, he leans and presses his lips to yours while starting to thrust in and out of your cunt.

You cling to him, pressed against the wall as he thrusts into you with a hiss. “So good Max. Feel so damn good. I- I want - I want more.” You murmur against his lips. Rocking up onto your tip toes so he can thrust deeper into you with a moan. “God yes. Yes. Right there.” You groan when he hits deep to find a delicious spot inside of you.

One hand holding your legs, the other braced on the wall, Max tries to keep hitting that spot with every jolt of his hips. Moaning and grunting at how you tighten around him. He’s not done anything like this in forever and it feels like fucking Heaven. “Jesus, fuck.” He pants, leaning his forehead against yours while you take his cock again and again.

You reach up to cup his cheeks, bringing his mouth back to yours as you get closer and closer to your orgasm. “Fuck. Fuck. I’m gonna- Max. Maxxxx.” You squeal against his mouth, clamping down on his cock as you cum.

Max pants out your name, nearly whining it as he continues to rock into you, working you through your high. The loud sounds of your fucking practically echoes around the small area you are tucked into. “Shit.” His hips stutter and he can’t only give another four or five thrusts before he is burying himself deep and filling the condom with his seed with a moan of your name.

You caress his neck, loving the way his jaw clenches as he rocks his way through his high before he stills inside of you. "God, that was good." You sigh, kissing his nose, unable to help yourself when you've imagined it far too many times.

“Yes it was.” Max’s breathing starts to slow down as he enjoys the last moments of closeness before he carefully grips the base of the condom and pulls out of you. Putting your leg down and taking it off to tie a knot in it before throwing it in the dumpster. “Going to sleep like a baby tonight.”

You chuckle, "I bet you are. I'm happy to serve the state." You wink at him and reach out to pull him close one last time, pressing your lips to his. "So...uh, I guess you gotta get back?" You murmur, shifting from one foot to the other. It's a little awkward now the lust has been satiated.

Max nods, hating it, but he does have to strategize and call Alistair in the morning before school. “Do you need a ride home?” He asks, wanting to spend a few more minutes with you if he could.

You shake your head, "no. I can get the bus. I'll be fine." You tell him, picking your purse up from the floor and you turn to look at him.

"You aren't taking the bus." He insists and you shake your head.

"I- I don't have a car. I can't afford a car." You tell him, biting your lip.

“Then let me take you home.” Max implores. “Please.” He wants to make sure you get home safely and he knows that the public transportation can take forever to get you where you need to go. “Get you home quickly and into a bath with a glass of wine before you would normally be home.” He adds, trying to sweeten the offer.

You stare at him for a moment, unsure if you should accept the ride home and make more of this than it really is: a hook up. You smile and nod, “that sounds wonderful. Yes, I’d like a ride home.” You lean closer to kiss his cheek.

“Good.” Max smiles and puts his hand on your back as the two of you walk down the alley. If Gunther is surprised to see you with Max, he doesn’t show it. Opening the door, Max motions for you to climb into the back seat of the SUV before he climbs in beside you. “I’m glad you let us take you home, it’s getting late.”

You glance out the window before you look back at Maxwell. “I’m used to taking the bus. I- my car broke down and I couldn’t afford to fix it so I had to change to taking the bus. If I end up doing a night shift, I usually just walk home because the bus isn’t running.” You confess, knowing it’s not safe but you don’t have any other options. You tell the driver where to go.

“Jesus.” Max shakes his head, knowing that if he hadn’t insisted on taking you home that you would be walking home. “I- my schedule is tight but I can send the man who works on my cars over to look at it?” He offers, wanting to help however he could. “Otherwise, I would look at it myself.” You give him a startled look and he chuckles. “I worked my way through college working in a mechanics shop.”

You tilt your head, “you did? Wow. You are way more than you appear, Maxwell Lord.” You reach over to take his hand in yours. “Thank you. I- I would really appreciate you doing that. I- I need my car back. Pepper spray only goes so far.” You chuckle awkwardly and squeeze his hand.

Max squeezes your hand back, proud of being able to help you. It’s a good feeling almost as good as the first time he had signed a bill that became law. “We’ll make sure you don’t have to worry about that from now on.” He promises. “He’s a miracle worker with cars.”

You kiss the back of his hand after lifting it to your mouth. “You’re a good man. You’ve got my vote.” You joke, offering him a wink before you give the driver another direction to turn onto your street. Thankfully you didn’t live too far away from the diner.

Max honestly wishes you lived farther away so he could spend more time with you. Instead he feels the car pull to a stop, turning to see the older apartment building. He could tell that it wasn’t newer but hopefully the owners kept up with maintenance. “Well, I take it you are home. I hope you have a good night.” He offers softly.

“You too. I’ll see you around Senator Lord.” You offer him one last wink before his driver opens the door to let you out and you make your way into your builder.

Gunther meets Max’s eyes in the rear view mirror after the car is rolling down the street. “You know Jackson is gonna kill you for this.” Gunther warns his boss.

Max gives a small shrug, a smile playing on his lips. “Let him try.” He murmurs. “She is exactly what I needed tonight and Jackson needs to remember he works for me, not the other way around.” He looks back towards your building behind him and huffs. “Might be my new favorite place to eat.”

“The diner or the lady?” Gunter jokes, making Max blush and look out the window. He knows he will be back, it’s just a question of when.

****

It’s been three weeks since you saw Max and you can’t help but think he got what he wanted and now he’s never coming back. You ignore the questions from your coworkers, all of them guessing he kissed you, none of them daring to assume he fucked you in the alleyway.

You don’t divulge the dirty details, wanting to keep your secret romp with Max just that to preserve his integrity and yours. However, with each day that passes, you can’t help but want to talk to someone about it to get some advice. You don’t have the man’s phone number and even if you did, he’s on the road so much you’d probably go straight to the answer machine.

Max sighs, tired after three weeks on the road. He has been to several diners that reminded him of yours, but his spirits lift when he sees the sign for the little greasy spoon he has come to dream about. More specifically the alleyway behind it and the sexy yet sweet waitress.

Smiling when the bell rings out when he opens the door, the woman closest to him turns to greet him. “Can I sit in her section?” He asks, nodding to where you are bringing out plates to a table of what looked like truckers. “Please.”

You turn your head to see Max walking towards you and you can't stop the silly smile that appears on your face. You might've been scouring the tv guide and local news for any interviews with him and you had thought about him every time your hand was between your thighs. "Here you go fellas." You tell the truckers, setting their meals down before you walk over to the table Max sat down at. "Hey stranger." You smile, "Diet Coke and a burger?" You guess.

Max’s grin is answering your own, but there is a devilish twinkle in his eyes. He nods, leaning in. “It will have to do for now, since what I want isn’t exactly on the menu.” He murmurs where no one else can hear him. He has been thinking about you probably every day, definitely every time he had his hand wrapped around his cock. “So I guess I will have to stick with the food.” He winks at you playfully. “How have you been?”

Your stomach twists in anticipation about what he really wants and you bite your lip. "Not too bad. Busy with work as always. Been thinking about this senator...he does this amazing thing with his hips." You whisper with a smirk, writing down his order. "I'll be right back with your soda." You wink, walking away and swaying your hips until you feel his gaze burning into you.

Gunther is at the bar again, sitting there as Max admires your figure. He had immediately told the guard that he wanted to come to the diner over the objections of his campaign manager, but he had just ignored that. He was free from any meet and greets, town hall meetings or campaign trail stops for the next week and he had wanted to see you before he did anything else. Hoping that you weren’t too upset that he hasn’t been in. He had forgotten to give you a number to reach him at. When you bring the Diet Coke back he notices that you don’t seem as tired. “So I heard that my guy was able to get your car back on the road for you.”

You hover near his table, nodding and offering him a smile. "Yes. Yes. He was great. It's so nice to have my car back. I wanted to reach out to you to thank you but I didn't have a number for you." You confess, shifting from one foot to the other and you look into those dark eyes that have haunted you. "Thank you. Really, you - you have no idea how much easier my life is now I don't have to take the bus or walk."

“I should have given you my number.” He’s happy you don’t have to worry about getting home from work now. He had not been thrilled about you walking home alone at night, and it was something he had told his guy when he sent him over there. Get your car on the road no matter what it costs. You didn’t have to worry about the bill, he would have paid it, but luckily it was just a spark plug. Although he had gone through the car to check more than that and did a tune up on it for you. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a card. “Personal number’s on the back.”

You carefully take the card from him, admiring the gold, and you bite your lip. “I’ve never had the personal number of a senator before.” You tease, tucking the card into your apron. The truckers call you over, asking for more coffee, and you glance back at Max before you go to grab the pot. After satisfying the truckers, you grab Max’s burger and set it down in front of him. “How’s your son?” You ask, wanting to extend your time together.

He grins, thinking about his son. Despite the divorce and his ambitions, he wanted to be a good father to Alistair. He chuckles. “I’m going to go pick him up tonight. Have him spend the night and take him to school tomorrow.” The campaign trail was hard because he spent a lot of time away from him, not wanting to drag him away from his routine, despite what Jackson wanted. His son wasn’t going to be a pawn to get votes. “Pizza and the newest movie he wants to watch is on the menu.”

You grin, “membership card to Blockbuster, huh?” You snort, imagining Max in his pristine suit picking out a movie with his son. “I like that you put your son first. Not many fathers would do what you do and still try to be present for their child. I, uh, I like you. A lot.” You confess, biting your lip as you look towards the table of truckers who are leaving after paying their checks.

“I like you too.” Max answers easily. “A lot.” He sees the money on the table and jerks his chin over to it. “Go pocket your tip.” He urges you. “I’ll be here when you get done. Until you have a break even.” He tells you, voice slipping a bit lower and rougher. He wanted to see you mostly, but now that he’s seen you, he wants to touch you again.

You shiver at the roughness in his tone, nodding before you make your way over to the now empty table, pocketing your tip before you clean up the plates. Once you’ve finished wiping down the table it’s time for your break and you see Max has finished eating. “Come on baby. Meet me in the alleyway.” You whisper as you walk past, waiting for him to follow you.

Max gets up, making like he is going to go down the hallway and use the bathroom. Gunther sees him of course, smirking to himself and the senator as he walks by. But Max doesn’t pay him any attention, eager to meet you in the alleyway despite it being broad daylight.

You giggle when Max slams the door open and grabs you, pressing you up against the wall, his lips immediately finding yours. You moan into his mouth, gripping the lapels of his expensive jacket, his tongue sliding into your mouth when you gasp. The door to the alleyway swings open and you push Max away when his security guard appears. Maxwell turns his head to look as Gunther lights a cigarette. “Just want to make sure no one watches. Carry on. I am gonna have a smoke.” He says, turning his back.

He waits for you to protest, to tell you that there is no way that you can have sex with him while his security is here. When he doesn’t hear a sound of protest, Max chuckles and leans in to kiss you again. “Thought about you for three weeks.” He groans, biting down your throat again. He has a condom in his pocket again and he presses his hard cock against your hip. “Tell me I can fuck you? Tell me that you’ve been thinking about it.” He begs quietly.

You whine, “yes. Yes, please. You’re all I’ve thought about. I’m wet just thinking about how you felt inside of me.” You confess, reaching down to grab his hand. You slide it under your dress to your panties, showing him how wet you already are.

Max groans, pushing the fabric aside so he can slide his fingers through your slick folds. “Fuck.” He pushes a finger inside you. “You want me to fuck you right here again?” He asks. “Make sure you come back to work feeling good from cumming?”

“Yes. Yes. Want- want you to fuck me. You- you felt so good last time.” You pant, pushing his hand out of your panties so you can push them down, turning around after pulling your dress up. You look over your shoulder at him, “please Max. Fuck me.”

“Fuck.” Max hisses and pulls the condom out of his pocket to put between his teeth, tearing at his belt. His cock is already aching to be buried inside you. A quick glance at Gunther’s back ensures the man is watching for the two of you as he rips open the foil wrapper and quickly rolls the rubber down his length.

You gasp when the head of his cock nudges your clit before he notches the head at your entrance, pushing into you in one thrust. “Fuck. Oh fuck Max. Feels so good. Already. Feels so fucking good.” You moan, trying to grind back onto him as your forearms are scratched by the brick wall.

Gripping your hip, Max moans his agreement. “Fuck.” He hisses, pulling back to surge into you again. “Jerked off thinking about this, about you.” He confesses, grinding deep and loving the way that you clench around him. Your panting moans make him want to cum right now but he wants to make sure you cum before he does.

“Never felt like this before. Always - always faked it but with you - it’s real. You make me feel so good. Fuck my pussy so good.” You lean forward to rest your forehead against the cool brick, spreading your legs a little wider so he can fuck into you. “Yes baby. Yes. Harder. Need more.” You beg and reach back to grip onto his hand on your hip.

Pride rises in his chest, making him give you his cock exactly how you want it. Hard and deep thrusts into your cunt, pushing you into the wall make him start panting. “Y-you feel f-fucking incredible.” He gasps out. “So so tight, h-hot.”

Your cheek scratches against the brick but you don’t care, too obsessed with the way he is grinding into you, fucking you into next week. The sound of his hips hitting your ass echoes in the alleyway but Gunther just continues smoking his cigarette as he keeps watch.

“Fuck.” He hisses, one hand sliding under the bunched up fabric of your dress to reach around you to start rubbing your clit. The audaciousness of it, a senator fucking his waitress in broad daylight in an alley, but he fucking loves it. Loves the way that you are so eager for it, the way that you want him. “Cum for me.” He groans into your ear, nibbling on the shell.

You let out a strangled groan when his fingers rub your clit, making you cry out in pleasure when you clamp down on his cock. He actually makes you cum - something your other lovers couldn’t claim. “Yes yes yes. Max. Oh shit!” You shriek, legs shaking as you soak him.

He pants raggedly in your ear, the hold your body has on him makes his teeth grit. Moaning with you as he rocks into you. Now that he has made you cum, he can cum himself. “Good.” He rasps out. “S-so fucking good.”

When he cums, he bites down on your neck and you love it. Reaching behind you to tangle your fingers in his styled hair, messing it up delights you. "Cum for me Max. Cum." You plead, squeezing his cock.

Max whimpers, letting go of the thin control he has and with one more thrust he bites down on your neck, aware that your co-workers might see the imprint of his teeth and not caring. Grunting and grinding into you as he pushes his release into the condom until he finally stops moving and kisses the spot on your neck while he tries to catch his breath.

You sag against the wall, closing your eyes as the pleasure continues to wash over you. “So damn good. Every time.” You sigh, shifting so his cock slides out of you and you turn to wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his. “How about a milkshake to go?” You ask, “for Alistair?”

“That would be perfect.” Max kisses you again. “Thank you.” He murmurs softly, smiling at you before he starts to tuck himself away.

You dispose of the condom and adjust your dress, stepping away from him before you turn towards the back door of the diner. Gunther is still standing with his back to you until Max tells him to turn around. You head back inside, unaware of his teeth marks in your neck until your coworker mentions it. “Just making out with the Senator.” You joke, working on making Alistair’s chocolate milkshake.

Max walks over to pick up the bill and walks over to hand you some money when you turn back and have the milkshake ready. He’s paying you far more than necessary but he wants you to make sure you have a good day today. “Thank you.”

You offer him a wink and a smile, “you’re welcome Senator Lord.” You take the money, eyes widening slightly at how much extra cash he’s given you. Sally eyes the money, glancing between you and Max before he nods and walks out with the milkshake. “Seems like you have an admirer.” Sally comments and you shrug, “he’s just being nice.”

****

It’s been nearly two weeks, and Max is practically obsessed with seeing you. He has been to see you every day you work and the two of you always end up behind the diner, wrapped up in each other. The only time he hasn’t had sex with you was the night that he brought Alistair for dinner, promising the boy he would take him to where he got the delicious milkshake from. He had loved how you had interacted with him; making him even more sure that you were someone he wanted in his life. Walking through the door, he nods to the other waitress and moves over to your section to sit down.

Sally calls out your name, “Senator Lord is here.” She tells you and you can’t help but look in the mirror in the hallway, checking your hair and you stride into the diner, smiling when you see Max sitting in his section. “Hey stranger.” You coo, sliding in to sit opposite him. “Burger?” You ask and he nods. “How’s Alistair?” You inquire, scribbling down his order.

“He’s good. He aced his math test.” Max crows, a proud papa of his son. “My son is bright, already learned the next section of the class, the teacher thinks he needs to be put in an advanced class.” He looks you over with a soft smile, imagining you helping him with homework. “How are you? Anything new going on with your neighbor?”

You shake your head, “no. No. He’s still got the television blaring at all hours of the day despite me telling him to turn it the fuck down. I’m sick of hearing the buzzing noise when the channel goes off air.” You roll your eyes as you reach out to brush your leg against his. “I, uh, I applied to go back to school. Finish up my classes…finally.” You fluster, biting your lip. You’ve saved the money Max gave you, deciding to put it towards something that will get you out of the diner.

“That’s great!” Max grins, proud of you for deciding to do something for you. From the time he has spent with you, learning about you, he’s come to find that it’s rare for you to do something that benefits just you. “Let me know if I can help in any way, you let me know.” He offers, meaning every word of it.

You want to reach for his hand but you can’t. You’ve never really discussed what you are or what it is that you’re doing. All you know is he comes to have a burger and then he fucks you. Probably an amazing deal for most men. You can’t help but want more. A proper date to dress up and eat with him instead of rushing off to get another person’s meal. “Thank you.” You tell him, meaning every word. It’s unusual for you to ever have support like this…not since your mom died. “So…I’ll go put your order in.” You tell him, not noticing the giggles coming from the women on the next table over from Max, the morning newspaper on the table.

Max frowns when the giggling and whispering continues, but he doesn’t pay much attention. Too busy watching you as you check on your customers. You are so sweet and kind to people, even when they are rude. He plans to try to come up with the nerve to ask you out. It’s laughable, he’s able to fuck you, but he can’t ask you out.

You grab the sodas for the table of women after putting in Max’s order, and that’s when you see it. A photo of you and Max in the alleyway. Clearly having sex, your mouth open as he pressed you against the wall with Gunter standing in the background. You squeak, grabbing the paper, and the women look up at you. “Who knew we had the Senator’s whore serving us?” One of them says and you stare at the photos.

Max hears the comment, immediately jumping out of his booth to confront them. He doesn’t understand why they would say that but he quickly understands when he sees the paper in your hands. Striding over to see the picture that has you frozen in horror, he closes his eyes and hisses a curse. “Shit.” He opens his eyes and glares at the women. “Calling a woman a whore isn’t very feminist of you.” He scolds, gently taking your shoulder. “Come on, we need to talk.”

You nod, heart pounding in your chest, and you are worried about what he is going to say, wondering if he is going to blame you or throw you under the bus. "Max. I-" You choke when you are in the alleyway once more. The paper seems to be burning in your hands from where you still hold it. "I'm - I'm so sorry."

Max shakes his head, hating how mortified you seem. “I am sorry.” He murmurs, taking the paper from you and sighing as he cups your cheek. “This is my fault. I should have known this could happen.” He’s ashamed of how he had never even gotten a hotel room for the two of you or taken you out to dinner. “I’ll protect you from the media as best I can.” He promises.

You shake your head, "no Max. You can't. It will destroy your career. You need to blame this on me. Tell the media I offered myself up. Tell them I - I came onto you and you, being a man, couldn't resist. You'll be the hero. I- I will be branded a slut but they will forget about me. I'll be forgotten after the next scandal comes out. You need to win this re-election for you and for Alistair. Blame it on me." You plead, cupping his cheeks.

“No.” Max is adamant about that. There is no way that he is going to blame this on you. “I should have-“ he breaks off and shakes his head. “I should have done things right. Taken you out on a date or at least gotten a fucking hotel for this.” He gives you a sorrowful work. “I didn’t even have sex with you in bed.”

You chuckle, shaking your head, “no. No. It was - fuck. It was perfect. It was clumsy and messy and just - it was us. No expectations or drama. I liked it. I loved it because…fuck Max. I - I think I’m in love with you.” You finish with a whisper, stomach twisting with nerves.

Max stares at you for a moment, amazed that you aren’t screaming at him for getting splashed across the front page of the paper. Instead you are confessing your feelings for him. “I had planned to ask you out today.” He confesses. “Want to take you out. Have someone wait on you for a change. Would you still want to maybe do that with me?”

You bite your lip, “do you want - you want to be seen with me after that?” You ask, gesturing to the newspaper. “It’s not gonna be easy Max. Are you sure you don’t want to just…blame it on me and say it’s all me? It would be a hell of a lot easier for you.” You sigh, crossing your arms.

Max shakes his head. “I wouldn’t do that. I- Jackson might be pissed but I’m just going to admit that I should not have been in a public setting, but that it was an intimate interlude with the woman I love.” He tells you, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You inhale sharply at his confession, a silly smile on your lips as you look at him. “Then let’s go to dinner.” You surge forward to press your lips to his, hearing the photographers approaching when they are shouting your way and suddenly you’re engulfed by cameras. “Max?” You choke, clinging to him.

“Shit.” Max wraps his arm around you and curls you towards him, holding up his hand towards the throng of reporters.

“Senator Lord! You’ve been adamant that you run a clean house, what do you have to say about this scandal? Sex in public.”

Max shakes his head. “No comment.” More questions are hurled towards the two of you as he shuffles the two of you towards Gunther, who is pushing his way through the cameras and bodies. “No comment at this time.”

You press yourself against Max as Gunther guides you to Max's car through the throng of vultures and you exhale shakily when you are inside the back of his town car. "I- shit." You choke, trying to ignore the way they are banging on the windows as the driver pulls away. "Shit. My purse is in my locker. I haven't finished my shift." You tell Max despite your hands shaking.

“I think your boss will understand.” Max murmurs, hugging you to him and rubbing your arms to calm you down. You are trembling and he hates it. “We will go back to my house. I’m sure Jackson is there, ready to berate me, but I don’t care.” He promises. “I’ll call your boss when we get there, make sure they understand.”

You nod, leaning into him to breathe in his expensive cologne. You close your eyes until you are arriving at Maxwell's house. Somewhere you have never been before. It's big and fancy - not that you expected anything less- and it's overwhelming when you walk inside to see the marble floors and gilded gold. It's a far cry from your shabby little apartment. "Your home is beautiful." You whisper, lost in the extravagant decor.

“Thank you.” Max keeps you close, his hold on you tightening slightly. This wasn’t the way he wanted to bring you over, but there was no changing what happened now.

“Max!” He frowns and turns his head towards the study door where Jackson is rushing out, his campaign manager obviously aware of what the papers posted by the look on his face.

Jackson looks at you and you prepare for the onslaught of thinly veiled insults. "You - you are fucking fantastic." He tells you, "you are - our poll numbers are through the roof. You wouldn't believe - they love that Max is with a working class woman. They love that he seems...normal. You are a fucking saving grace." Jackson says, holding his hands up towards you.

Max huffs, completely thrown off by this. He had been expecting Jackson to hit the roof, not look at you like the golden goose. “Right.” He chuckles, rolling his eyes and leaning into you. “Of course you are happy with polling numbers.” He clears his throat. “I want the paper to issue an apology for publishing her name though.” He tells Jackson. “They were wrong to do that.”

“I agree, but there’s no such thing as bad news Maxwell. It’s fucking - we will ask for an apology but then you gotta take her out on a proper date, show them you can be a gentleman and it will be a proper Cinderella story. We will make sure that she is all dolled up - designer of course - to show the public she’s more than a quick fuck. She is more than a quick fuck, right?” Jackson asks Max.

He purses his lips, not liking the term ‘Cinderella story’ because he never viewed you like that. “Yes, she’s more than a quick fuck.” He assures his manager. “But I don’t want to doll her up in designer anything unless she wants it.” He turns to you to explain. “I don’t want you to think you aren’t good enough exactly as you are.”

You shake your head, “no. I, uh, I don’t want to be seen as a gold digger. I’ve never asked Max for any money. I’ve always worked hard for what I have and that’s not going to change. I want to go back to school. Get my degree and be on my own two feet.”

Jackson groans with pleasure and shakes his head. “I told you- I told you she was perfect when we met her!” He crows over your answer and completely ignores the fact that he has said quite the opposite. “Just make sure you say it just like that when you sit down with the reporter we are going to get to do a story on you and Max.” He grins. “This is going to be good!” His eyes widened in happiness. “I need to start making calls! Max is going to get re-elected thanks to you!”

****

“Please welcome Senator Lord and his beautiful new wife.” You squeeze Max’s hand, unable to believe you are at his election party. You had gotten married just before the election, unable to wait since you were impatient to be his wife. You’ve gone back to school, working on finishing your degree and you are an excellent stepmother to Alistair, growing close to him after you and his father were official.

You have been the talk of the election cycle, giving interviews and photoshoots with Max. It’s been exhausting but after leaving the diner, you are able to focus on what works best for you and Max. You enter the room, loving the cheers of his supporters, and he guides you to the dance floor.

“Can I have this dance?” He asks softly.

“Always.” You answer, letting him pull you close.

“Max. I have something to tell you.” You murmur after he sways you to the music.

“What hermosa?” He asks.

“I’m pregnant.” You whisper, a smile on your face.

Max gulps, his face breaking out in a wide smile and he lunges forward to press his lips to yours, much to the delight of his followers and the people who had worked tirelessly to get him elected.

“I love you.” He promises against your lips. “I love you so much, Mrs. Lord.”

He can’t help but be absolutely amazed. Stopping in a diner for dinner one night has led to this moment. He’s remarried to a woman that loves him and adores his son. He’s been re-elected to serve his constituents and try to make the world a better place for everyone, including the new baby you are going to gift him with. Life couldn’t be better.

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inafieldofdaisies · 10 months

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WIP Wednesday | Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat and @clicheantagonist <3

Final snippet from Mercedes and Jacob from that chapter. ♥️ NSFW warning for a scene towards the end.

Minutes ticked by of her lying still until his even breathing signaled he was fast asleep. It was then that she moved his hand away from her waist and quietly got up. It was a ritual. A rule. To never stick around in a mark's embrace once they were out cold. She couldn't help but slip into the old habit as a defense mechanism, especially when Jacob himself still claimed he didn't even like her. On her way out of the bedroom, Mercedes eyed his clothes on the floor, contemplating how his shirt would feel on her skin. She hated the ludicrous thought and how her body was still tingling all over. The sex was good, but not that good to suddenly become an idiot. Instead of grabbing his shirt, she wrapped a blanket around her nude form and wandered back into the kitchen, setting a mental reminder to search the house for anything of interest in the morning when he would be gone. Weapons. Wine. Chocolate. She so craved the latter, yet all she could find earlier was the damn ketchup. 388 days. She sighed, pouring herself another glass of water as she watched the woods outside, imagining walking out and away from Mercy's life. Only to be eaten by one of Jacob's failed animal experiments. Mercedes had no idea how long she had stayed like that, but the next thing she heard were footsteps, the old floorboards alerting her to his approach before hands encircled her middle. "Can't sleep?", Jacob mumbled as he rested his head on top of hers. The simple gesture that was so alien coming from him and in any other situation would be considered sweet to her bore only a promise of danger.

"I woke up craving chocolate.", it was a half-lie, or half-truth, depending on how someone wanted to look at it. "And you found none stashed away.", he guessed. "Sadly." "Come back to bed.", the request was paired with a kiss behind her ear. She shook her head sharply, "Your bed is the couch, Jacob. You just fell asleep before we could talk about it." "I'm not sleeping on the damned couch, Mercedes. You're really gonna try to make me after what happened?" "Well, I won't be either, so I don't know what to tell you. And 'what happened' was nothing." "The bed it is, then.", Jacob said in a final tone, ignoring her denial of the significance of whatever he saw between them as he grasped her hand and led her towards the bedroom. "Goodnight.", he whispered as she found herself back into his arms beneath the covers. Bad idea. It's such a bad idea. She buried her face in his chest, his warmth engulfing her and heating her in the same way the fire had the living room. Casper had asked her many times how she always managed to keep emotions out of the jobs she pulled, and her answer always was, "I simply don't know how to even fall for them, only how to fake it." From experience, she was certain she would never fall for Jacob. That she shouldn't at any cost. Yet for the time being, she decided to allow herself to enjoy his embrace, despite it being as real as the woman she was portraying and maybe even more treacherous than his brother's poisonous words. Yes, we all have a role to play, Jacob. Don't I know that better than anyone else… She couldn't help but wonder what role he had chosen when it came down to her.

Waking up in an unfamiliar place all alone that morning, especially after spending such a long time surrounded by people at the Compound, definitely took Mercedes aback. She turned, finding the spot next to her empty. It was an expected but still somewhat disappointing outcome. Why do I care that he didn't stay? I should be happy he didn't. I am happy, in fact. She tried to convince herself it was for the better Jacob had left without even saying goodbye before she had woken up and that him not being clingy was exactly what she needed. What she wanted as a reaction after their night together. She took a couple of more minutes just to stay in bed, which felt like a luxury in itself after having to rise up at crack of dawn for over an year, sometimes even in the middle of the night if Joseph had decided his flock was in a dire need of a sermon. Why care about my need of beauty sleep? Or the fact that everytime my soul was close to leaving its body so it can escape having to listen to his rambling at such ungodly hours. Eventually, she finally got up, frowning at the destroyed dress that lay on the ground on her way to the bathroom. "Mercy, child, what happened to the white dress.", she mocked Joseph's voice, "Oh, you know, your brother cut it open before fucking me like there's no tomorrow. But enough about me, father.", a laugh escaped her at how he'd react if she even said something like that to him. "And where the hell did my underwear go?", she muttered as she jumped into the shower, noting she only had seen her bra laying on one of the armchairs in the bedroom. Nothing in the bathroom indicated Jacob had taken the time to freshen up before leaving, and in a way, she wasn't surprised. Since she had known him he was always serious, refusing to entertain even a small conversation, completely dedicated to his duties in the region to the point even members of the Project whispered behind his back about how ruthless he was. And yet… he had come with her, spent the night. Just the thought of him had her hand wandering down her stomach in an attempt to mirror his caress. The hot water ran over her aching body, somewhat soothing out the lingering soreness he had left her with as her fingers worked in desperation to bring her release. The second it hit her, she could help but picture Jacob and how things would have gone down if he was there with her. How he'd feel. Certainly better than her hand. "Shame you left. We could have had more fun.", she whispered, setting for washing her hair next and hoping that by the time she was done showering, all thoughts of him would disappear, carried away by the water together with the fact she had touched herself while picturing someone that was essentially the enemy. To her dismay that didn't happen and she did her hardest the ignore the concerning realization as she wrapped a fresh towel around herself and stepped out of the stall. A look in the mirror confirmed she was somewhat back to her old self: she seemed more relaxed than she had felt in a long while, face flushed with a satisfied gleam in her eyes. "Focus on why you're here. It's not for him. It never was.", she warned the woman staring at her, but her smile didn't waiver, "Why are you so happy? The man hates you. He can destroy everything, make your sacrifice pointless if you let this get out of hand. You had your fun, now it's done."

The last part did the job to remind her of her purpose, and she wandered back into the living room in just the towel, a sense of freedom hanging over her, almost as if she was back home in her condo. Being herself, not playing a role. When she came into the kitchen, a note was waiting for her on the table with a chocolate on top of it. "For the dress.", she read his messy writing out loud, "A man of few words, aren't you? Couldn't even bother to sign your name." She would have been lying if she was to say the small act of kindness didn't threaten to chip away at her defenses even a little bit, especially since it meant he had remembered something so mundane she was craving. I've had men at my every beck and call. Had been gifted anything my heart desired for years. And this is what makes me melt? It's beyond amature, naive. Like something Mercy would read too much into. This is not me. After searching the pantry, she miraculously found a couple of forgotten protein bars, and as she ate, her thoughts continued to drift back to Jacob instead of focusing on her plan of action. It didn't take long for her to make up her mind about heading to him again: she still had an official task, a chance to gather intel. She couldn't miss any opportunity to find a weak spot in the Project's defenses. A little visit wouldn't hurt, Joseph told me to keep an eye out after all.

"Praised be the Father on this fine morning, sister.", a familiar Chosen greeted her the second she exited the cabin. A chill hung in the air, and she was glad she had chosen a dress with longer sleeves, one that she suspected wouldn't result in another comparison to Faith. The outfit she had worn the previous day was specially selected for Joseph, an important piece to Mercedes becoming what he wanted to see: sweet, innocent Mercy. The light blue dress she had put on few minutes prior was meant just for Jacob, and she couldn't help but smirk at the idea it would be so easy to undo, sparing him the trouble of getting a knife involved again. Though she didn't intent for a repeat of the night before, quite the opposite: damage control was crucial, she needed to make sure where they stood and ensure the whole thing wouldn't blow back into her face as she doubted Joseph would ever actually punish his brother for straying off his path and instead shift the whole blame onto her, accusing her of seducing the Herald. The goal that day was simply to still appeal to Jacob while keeping him at arm's length, knowing full well he was most likely to drop his guard if he was distracted, a little smitten even. Business as usual. "Isaac, right?", she asked as she closed the front door. "You remembered.", was all the man said in surprise before he made haste for a truck parked out front. She followed close behind, buckling herself in and clutching Joseph's Bible in her lap as the Chosen set off towards St. Francis.

The drive passed in absolute silence to the point that even Isaac's breathing was abnormally quiet, no doubt another thing Jacob had "trained" his men to suppress in fear of angering him with their presence. Walking through the rolls of cages felt just as harrowing as the day before. She couldn't imagine ever being able to stride past the unfortunate souls locked in them and be completely emotionless or not get the urge to let them out, consequences be damned. Yet all of Jacob's men showed no compassion, playing the role he had chosen for them perfectly. How does one just lose their humanity like this? His office was empty again, a new poster hanging in the place of the one she had ripped off previously. "Are you testing me?", she mumbled to herself as Isaac left the room without even sparing her a look, focused on returning to his duties. Seconds later, after tucking the poster out of sight between the couch's cushions, she was staring at a bare wall yet again. She could sense he was baiting her, but she couldn't help but rebel a bit, especially through something he couldn't really go to Joseph with. What would he say? That I'm doodling on his precious posters? Oh, must be a sin.

Hours dragged by in wait, with the occasional footsteps moving past the door but never stopping. The increased traffic outside the room bothered her somewhat, because it gave off the impression something was being prepared when she had found no intel hinting at it. Are you out on the attack you're planning so meticulously, Jacob? Eventually Isaac finally re-emerged, announcing that he would be locking her in per Jacob's orders. What the fuck? The Chosen offered no explanation as he left in a haste before she could even get a question out, the click of the door's lock putting her on edge immediately. Then a haunting song started echoing down the hallways, and it seemed that all hell broke lose with it. Shouting, screams, and the unmistakable sounds of gunshots were all she could hear as she paced around the office, unable to shake off the feeling of helplessness. Mercedes clutched the back of the chair, her mind involuntarily drawing a vivid picture of the carnage that was happening within the Vet Center. Something thumped against the door suddenly, making her tense up in anticipation of danger. Then the handle jiggled, the sound cutting right into her as she faced the fact that the lock was the only thing standing between her and the person on the other side. And I have no place to run. The haunting jiggling persisted, then a body began hitting the door in attempts to break it down until she was sure the lock would give way. It didn't. Gunshots rang out instead, followed by the sound of residing footsteps, reeking of discipline, complete control. The fact that the attempt to break in had ceased so abruptly told her whoever had made it that far and still had the will to fight against their conditioning wasn't amongst the living anymore.

"You wanted me here today? Why?", she breathed out, wishing for the silence to return, for the goddamned song to stop playing on a loop. ♫ Only you. Can make all this world seem right. Only you… ♫ Only you. It was the same title engraved on the inside of the music box she had found yesterday and made it more disturbing he had chosen a love song as a trigger to the start of what he considered training, but only consisted of people needlessly killing each other. Her gaze remained glued to the treeline past the hospital's fence. She was zoning out, picturing she was there instead in attempts to cancel out the chaos when it all went quiet as suddenly as it had started. Yet despite the silence that fell over the hospital, the song was still bouncing around in her mind freely. "Fucking stop it.", she gritted out, unsure how much time had even passed since being locked inside but it sure felt like eternity. Joseph expects me to sit here everyday, be his eyes. Sit around, watch and listen while innocent people die. Mercedes knew she had to find the Militia or anyone that could deliver a message for her as soon as possible. She had to make true on her promise and see her revenge through before losing whatever sanity she had remaining. Still shaken up, she dragged herself back to Jacob's chair, sinking in it while she eyed Joseph's Bible in disdain. First chance I get, I'm burning that shit.

Finally, a key was inserted into the lock, followed by a click and footsteps, neither making her look up from the desk. "Let me guess… didn't see no poster hanging again today, hm?", Jacob chirped as he came to a stop in front of her, his tone too light. "Someone tried to force their way into the room." "I know. It was nothing serious.", he replied matter-of-factly, "I took care of it." She bit her tongue, stopping so much from escaping before actually saying, "You had Isaac drive me here for this. Made me sit defenseless while you conducted your trial just outside the door, forcing me to listen. Why?" His icy gaze remained on her, and she took in his attire in turn, the same clothes he wore the day before now splattered in blood. She wasn't surprised at the confirmation he hadn't taken the time to shower in the cabin nor stop for a change of clothes, instead heading straight to his duty as a 'Herald'. "Why, Jacob?", she pushed against his silence, "Is this your way of sending me packing? I thought you had changed your mind and would at least act like a half-decent human being after yesterday." Jacob shook his head, the only thing he had to offer in response. Mercy or not, I'm done putting up with your mind games. Mercedes got up, hands clutching the 'bible' to her chest as she took a step towards the door. "Where do you think you're going?", he questioned sternly and moved in her direction. "To find Isaac so he can drive me back to the cabin. We're done here." "No." She huffed, "I'm not going to sit around and wait for you to throw a word my way. You hate me, fine. But to lock me in here without any warning on what's to take place was just cruel… What did I ever do to you to decide you feel like tormenting me whenever the mood strikes? Whatever idea you have about me, about 'Mercy', I'm not someone you can walk over and make yourself feel stronger by doing so." He was in front of her now, eyes darkening more and more with each word she uttered out.

His expression wasn't enough to make her stop. It would have been for Mercy, but she wasn't her, not in that moment, "What would your brother think about how you've been treating me? That one of your captives almost attacked me. That you've basically done nothing to make sure I've settled in as he had asked. Fucking me doesn't count as caring, Jacob. The cabin has no food, I spent both days here without anything to eat, barely got offered water. I'm not one of your test subjects or the men you boss around. Yet I can't help but wonder if you're going to throw me in a cage the second another mood swing happens and you decide you're over my very existence." His gaze shifted to the book she was holding, lips twisting into a snarl when he retorted, "Who do you think told me to do it, Mercedes?" "What?", she blinked. Jacob nodded, "Yes. All the Father's idea." "No.", certainly he was lying, "Why?" A frown emerged at the question, "It doesn't matter." "Do you even know the reason?" "I suspect why." Cryptic fucker. "And I guess you won't tell me?" "No." "Goodbye, Jacob.", she told him and stepped around him, set on putting distance between herself and what had just occurred in that forsaken place. His hand wrapped around her upper arm again, his hold only getting tighter when she tried to shake it off, "Don't go." "I'm not playing this game. Last night was a mistake for so many reasons, and if I needed any proof of that, you just provided it to me without me even asking."

She had no idea what part of what she said set him off, but he maneuvered himself in front of her again, his dark stare forcing her to take steps back until she hit the edge of the desk. Pushing me around again. She regarded him with a defiant stare as he snatched the book from her hands, and set it on the wooden surface as far away from them as possible. "It wasn't a mistake. You wanted it as much as I did.", he argued, towering over her, "You asked me about the blood on my hands yesterday. It's the same with food, water. It's become a habit. I'm not used to… caring. Considering people's needs. It's not what I do here, sweetheart." "And yet you pull this the morning after. How should I feel about it then, Jacob?", while a part of her believed the excuse he hadn't thought of her basic needs, her eyes narrowed at his tone and arrogant conviction of how she felt about their night together. "It was either you staying locked inside my office or watching it all unfolding up close." Mercedes scoffed, "Sure it was." "I'm serious. Joseph wanted you to see it first-hand. I couldn't deliver on that request." "Why?" "Because despite what he believes, what God tells him, I don't think you're ready for it, nor that you're cut out to-", he stopped himself, frustration seeping in to match hers when he added, "If you want your questions answered go to Joseph. Don't waste my time. I have a job to do here."

Jacob might have been right about her not wanting to see any of it with her own eyes because it would have most likely resulted in her teetering on the edge of breaking character. Still, a part of her felt bitter at the idea he still considered her to be this spineless, helpless girl, when he was the only person in Hope County to even get glance at the real her, no matter how brief. "Well, I can easily fix that… move out of my way since I'm such a waste of time. I certainly didn't intend that.", she said with a forced smile, actually meaning the words. She hadn't planned to get involved with him on a personal level. He was the one that made the first move and, for some reason, had chosen to blame her for his lack of self-control afterwards. "Maybe, but just your mere presence is enough to waste my time.", he muttered, hand traveling up her arm to her shoulder until it cupped her cheek. Should that be an insult or a compliment? His tone shifted, "Throughout the whole trial, my mind strayed back to you. I was supposed to be focused, present, and yet all I could seem to think of was you. Only you. You're a distraction. And I don't do those." "Then don't think of me. Simple.", Mercedes offered, trying to ignore the way he was staring at her and the memories it brought back, or how he had used the phrase from the goddamned song that was still lurking in the back of her mind. "How? When I can still smell you all over me?", he snapped back, his lips finding hers before she even had a chance to answer or suggest a shower as a solution to the ridiculous problem.

There was nothing innocent or gentle about the kiss, with both of them fighting to take the lead, to come on top as hunger took over. Before she knew what was happening Jacob was spinning her around until she was facing the wall behind his desk, the same one she had stared at for so long since her arrival to a point she had every indent, spot and crack in it memorized. Anticipation coursed through her body when he moved her hair off her shoulder and pushed the sleeve down her arm, his mouth descending on her exposed skin, teeth nipping before he whispered, "Should I stop?" Yes. I'm a distraction, remember? You don't even like me. And I don't need you. Not when you could jeopardize my whole plan. "No.", came out as a sharp reply instead. "Good." Her hands gripped the edge of the desk as he gathered her dress, hiking it up until cold air hit the back of her thighs. "I like this dress better. It suits you more.", Jacob noted with approval. "I thought you might. It reminded me of your eyes.", she grabbed his hand, bringing it to her chest, "And wait until you see the front. I trust you can figure this one out." Jacob swiftly undid the bow that held the bodice closed and let out a groan when his fingers were met by bare skin. "Beautiful." She had been called that word many times, but coming from his mouth felt different, made her heart flutter even if he was actually complimenting her choice of outfit.

His hands moved on from her breasts to drag her underwear down her legs and the next instant his fingers seeked her heat, gliding in and out with ease, "So ready for me, sweetheart." A noise of protest left Mercedes when his touch retreated, but it was shortlived as he grabbed her hips and without even knowing when he had managed to undo his pants, he entered her from behind in a flash, burying himself to the hilt. A whimper slipped past her lips at the sudden instrusion, more following in its wake as he started to move without giving her any opportunity to adjust. "Tell me why I couldn't stop imagining doing just this the whole day?", Jacob said as his lips lowered to her neck, "Did you think of me, too?" She couldn't help but continue opposing him, knowing full well that deep down he enjoyed it, "No. Not even for a second." "No?", he asked, not sounding convinced at all of her lie, "Then how about I change that… make sure you remember me anytime you move?" Long, hard strokes paired with the continuous pressure of his thumb on her clit threatened to push her over the edge as she held onto the desk, relying on it to keep her unright and refusing to show how much he was rattling her. "You were holding back on me last night. What a shame.", she purred, "Harder, Jacob, you won't break me." The rational side of her reminded her of who he was, what he had put her through just minutes before, but his voice and his praises mixed with the sounds coming from both of them drowned out the pesky truths plaguing her thoughts. "You feel so good.", he choked out, and his free hand found her breast, palming it just as footsteps carried down the hallway, accompanied by low chatter.

The idea of them potentially getting caught on top of the things he was doing to her body brought her to climax, a moan ripping out her before she could stop it. "Shh, I need you to be quiet. You don't want company, do you?", Jacob instructed when whoever was outside passed by their door. His palm moved from her chest to cover her mouth while he continued to drive into her, his punishing thrusts picking up as he chased his own release. All she could do was squeeze her walls around him in response and match his movements, wondering if he would make her come for a second time. "Look at you following instructions. So obedient for once. Excellent.", he mocked, causing Mercedes to bite down on his fingers in warning, "You might be a wolf, sweetheart… but do you know what I do to them?", he let out a dark laugh, his voice waivering and betraying he was far from unbothered. With his men finally out of earshot, his hand returned to her chest, pinching her nipple, "You're close, aren't you? Greedy to come on my cock again. I can tell." She jerked her head in a nod, her skin feeling clammy with sweat while her low moans spilled freely as he focused on granting her another climax that hit her even harder the the previous. It wasn't long before he followed her over the edge, his release spilling inside her after the let out a guttural growl and buried his face in her hair. As the fog around her brain began to clear, a harsh realization washed over her, clashing with the pleasure she felt.

Fucked. I'm fucked. Both literally and figuratively. Bare. They had gone bare. No wonder it felt different. She hated the foolishness that had taken over her and how she hadn't once thought about protection in the heat of the moment. It wasn't because she hadn't done it with targets before, but all for the fact with him it felt more personal, like it meant something. Mercedes knew that made him dangerous. She completely slumped over the desk, trying her hardest to minimize the situation and convince herself it was just the postcoutal bliss she felt at the moment talking. Yet all of her attempts become pointless the moment Jacob bent down too, fingers tangling into her curls as he kissed her cheek then rested his head against it. "Exhausted you, didn't I?", he chuckled, seeming fully oblivious to her inner turmoil, "Think you can still walk?" She stared at the wall where his poster used to be, then out of the small window next to it, her words coming out in an even voice despite the array of emotions she wished she wasn't experiencing, "You forgot something." "What?", he sounded lost for a second until he slipped out of her, "Oh, fuck." "Yeah. That." "I-I-", he stopped, "I got carried away." A sigh escaped her, "You and me, both." "It will be fine. It was just once.", Jacob announced mostly to himself, his tone lacking conviction. Oh…you think- Yeah, we're not THAT fucked, Jacob.

"I'm on the pill.", she replied quickly as she turned to face him. He gave her a confused look, "Then why were you acting strange?" Mercedes shrugged, changing the subject, "And you…I thought you'd at least feel some panic at the idea of becoming a father." He pulled her into his arms, gazing into her eyes when he shook his head, "What if I hoped it happens?" Excuse me? Did my brain somehow short-circuit after that second orgasm? A frown took over her features, "Didn't you just say "you got carried away", why would you be hopeful?" He said nothing as his lips met hers in a gentle kiss, and the second they backed away, she prompted him again, refusing to drop the subject, "You didn't accidentally forget about contraception, did you, Jacob?" Her question was met with silence as he zipped up his pants and sat down at his desk, the change of demeanor only made her more suspicious of his motivations. Maybe it's a turn-on for him? Yes, a fantasy. What else could it be? It wasn't like that would have been the most unconventional thing she had encountered with men, and to her, it seemed like the only plausible explanation. Jacob finally spoke up, sounding detached, too matter-of-fact, "Isaac will drive you home and take care of stocking the fridge. I have more things to take care of here." More trials. More people have to die for the Project. For Joseph. So you can fill whatever emptiness your service left you with. "Okay.", was all she could muster as she regarded him from the corner of her eye, wondering what was running through his mind.

His gaze shifted to the wall, tone becoming lighter when he asked, "So… Where's my poster?" She looked up from tying her dress closed, not missing the hunger still lurking in his gaze, "You're back to that? I told you-" "I had a new one put up this morning." "There was nothing when I arrived, Jacob.", she lied, pairing it with a perplexed look. "Mercedes." Mercy's signature smile full of innocence was back on her face, "I swear on the Father." …'s corpse. Jacob shook his head, "Go. Before I make you confess, when that's my baby brother's forte." Mercedes grabbed Joseph's book on her way to the door, trying to not read much into the way she couldn't stop herself from sneaking a final glance at him or how his lips were twisted into a small smile. The second she grabbed the door handle, he called out, sounding more like the man that had fucked her senseless and less like a commander doing a briefing, "I will see you tonight." The simple statement made her a pause, and she hated the giddiness that threatened to take over her system, "I thought you didn't have time to babysit?" When he remained silent, she added, "What if I don't let you in? Are you going to sleep in the woods?" Another laugh escaped him, "I like the challenge, sweetheart."

His words followed her as she exited the office and did her hardest to ignore the blood splattered on the other side of the door and the crimson that adorned the walls leading to the hospital's main entrance. It was a reminder Jacob had turned St. Francis into his own battlefield, watching over as the people he had captured killed each other over the promise of survival of the fittest. His personal lab rats running rampant in the maze. He thought she had no idea about his experiments, but she always listened, gathered whatever information people would let slip up while believing she wasn't paying attention. She hated the realization the darkened spots she had observed on the walls before were nothing but the blood his men weren't able to clean off, as if the corruption itself was seeping into the building's foundation, the dead leaving a piece of themselves behind. Their legacy. A hopeless message of warning for anyone who dared to enter.

Tagging @josephseedismyfather @adelaidedrubman @thesingularityseries @euryalex @detectivelokis @nightbloodbix @aceghosts @madparadoxum @theelderhazelnut @purplehairsecretlair @neonneurons @dumbassdep @shegetsburned @poisonedtruth @vampireninjabunnies-blog @cassietrn @voidika @harmonyowl @v0idbuggy @strangefable @schoute @jacobsneed @strafethesesinners @g0dspeeed @trench-rot @josephslittledeputy and anyone with something to share ❤️

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imperfectpompom · 11 months

Text

“Come to bed, Zuko...”

Zuko sighs and keeps flicking through the papers in front of him, turning to type a few words into his word document before replying.

“Just -- ten more minutes and I’ll be done.” Zuko looks over his shoulder to smile at him, “I promise.”

Sokka whines and tosses himself deeper into the whirl of blankets on the bed. He’s been waiting for Zuko to finish this assignment for the past hour or so, and whilst his phone had sufficed for the first half hour or so, the cold piece of metal in his hand was no snuggly warm Zuko.

“This is no way to treat your boyfriend, Zuko!!!” Sokka groans into the pillow. “What are you gonna do when I finally give up on waiting and release all your deepest darkest secrets onto the internet!?! I’ll blackmail you into cuddling me if I have to...”

Zuko huffs out a laugh, the clicks of the keyboard continue. “And what secrets would those be?”

Sokka throws a glance over at his boyfriend -- he’s still looking at his stupid laptop instead of him.

Stupid cock-blocking professors.

“Uhhh, like the fact that you keep your ketchup in the cupboard instead of the fridge? And the heinous fact that you think that Haribo marshmallows are disgusting and you prefer crusty own brand ones to them?” Sokka clicks his tongue, “You know, damning stuff like that...”

Now, unsurprisingly, that gets Zuko to look back at him.

Eyebrow raised, Zuko crosses his arms and leans back into his desk chair. “Yeah - and I’m definitely the weird one. Who keeps their ketchup in the fridge anyways!!”

“Your boyfriend? Who wants you to come over here and cuddle already!”

Zuko sighs dramatically and turns back to his work, “Failing this assignment for a Haribo marshmallow fiend definitely isn’t worth it....”

Sokka frowns, he was sure that that argument would distract Zuko from his work long enough to come and cuddle Sokka to sleep. Fortunately, he’s the kind of plan guy who always has a back up plan!

Unfortunately, the back up plan requires him getting out of warm toasty bed.

Being the plan guy certainly isn’t always a good thing.

Sokka shivers at the rush of cold air on his feet as he swings them off the side of the bed, hauling himself upright. As carefully as he can, he tiptoes the few strides over to the desk and flops himself gracefully over Zuko’s shoulders. He wraps his arms around tight and nuzzles into the collar of Zuko’s frustratingly sexy turtle neck.

Who knew he would be crazy enough to date some Steve Jobs wannabe?

“Mmnph. Sokka... Stop distracting me! I’ve gotta hand this in before midnight...”

Just as planned, Zuko starts to turn his chair around to face him again. Taking his opportunity, Sokka slides over Zuko’s lowered guard and right into his lap, pulling all the blankets with him. Zuko gapes as Sokka postures himself in his lap and pulls Zuko’s face towards him, only stopping once their foreheads meet in the middle.

“Just hand it in late tomorrow morning and come and cuddle your very tired boyfriend to sleep...” Sokka peers up at Zuko through his eyelashes and innocently flutters them at his flustered partner.

“Sokka... I...”

Sokka leans backwards, lacing his fingers around the back of Zuko’s neck for support.

“Please, love?” He goes in for the final blow and brushes Zuko’s shaggy hair out of his eyes. “The work will still be here tomorrow morning, but I have an early lab!”

“Spirits help me.” Zuko mumbles under his breath, “Okay, fine!”

“YES!!” Sokka almost tumbles out of the chair. Luckily, Zuko’s there to catch him.

Zuko lets out a sigh of relief, “Be more careful if you want me to still be able to cuddle you!”

Sokka smiles and smacks a kiss Zuko’s cheek, “It’s not like I’m gonna die from falling off an office chair. Now lets cuddle already!! I’m tired.”

Sokka grins as he watches Zuko struggle to wipe the smile off of his face as he drags him over to the bed, their fingers wrapped firmly around each others.

#zukka #drabble #my thoughts before going to bed are always cosy cuddle thoughts #zuko #sokka #atla #avatar the last airbender #fluff

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winters-mistress · 2 months

Text

Dream

"Ciri?" Geralt asks, glancing up into the mirror so he could see his daughter. "You finished your veg? You know our rule."

And that rule was Ciri could have dessert after she'd finished her vegetables. Of course, it was different is she was trying a new vegetable Eskel or Vesemir had grown on the grounds, she was only expected to try it, and a full portion if she liked it. Which had worked well to get many different green vegetables down her, only pumpkin and mushrooms went untouched.

Now, however, the rule was simple. Finish the vegetables we both know you like, and you can have your dessert. And in this case, after Ciri had finished her performance in her latest school play, her father had bought her a mcdonalds as a treat. Carrot sticks after her little burger, then he would give her her little portion of fries and the little cupcake and ice cream cone.

Geralt frowns as he doesn't hear an answer. His girl had been chatting non stop since her performance, only being quiet when she began tucking into her little burger.

"Ciri?" He's got excellent hearing, surely he can't have misheard again.

Geralt pulls to a stop at the red light, taking a moment to properly look at his girl as she sat in her car seat.

And he smiles.

There, in her pretty silver dress Eskel and Jaskier had teamed up to sew -the one with what looked like a hundred layers of sparkly silver tulle and a matching top with a lace batwing sleeve overlay- with the crown he had bought her three days ago, wings still attached to her shoulders smashed against the seat, ketchup and mustard smeared over her little lips, the girl lay fast asleep. Her head leans against her shoulder, chin to chest, blonde curls just as wild as his own hair could get, she breathes in and out, deep and calm, exhausted from her performance and lulled by the car noise.

Geralt chuckles, glancing at the empty carrot stick bag near her open hand. A deal's a deal, he'll hide her cake from lambert and give her a scoop of ice cream in the morning.

And so, Geralt drives the rest of the way up the mountain to their farm, looking over at the three cars that litter outside the main doorway, turning the ignition off and opening his door, exiting.

Reaching in, Geralt unbundled Ciri from her car seat, sliding his right hand behind her shoulders, taking an annoyingly long time to find her knees from the torrent of tulle she wore. Ciri stays asleep, slumping into his arms as he grabs the bunch of roses he had given her.

The girl stays asleep long past the moments where he cradles her head, protecting it from the doorway as they enter the main living quarters of Kaer Morhen farmland and stables. She isn't aware of her grandfather smiling at the two of them, nor is she aware of the fact her father replaces her pretty dress, wings and crown for her purple horse pyjamas that Yennefer had bought her that summer.

Geralt tucks her into her blue bedding, pressing her Kelpie plushie into her arms, filling her water bottle and replacing the apple and salted crackers he keeps by her bedside table.

"Goodnight, Princess." He whispers, kissing her head. "Sweet dreams."

#the witcher #witcher #witcher netflix #the witcher netflix #geralt and ciri #geralt of rivia #cirilla of cintra #dadralt #ciri is his baby #fanfiction #geralt is the best dad #i love him #witcherfanfiction #modern witcher #ciri is geralt's daughter #single dad geralt

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taran-chan · 2 years

Text

on a Wednesday, in a cafe (chapter 25)

Read on AO3

friday lunchbox: rolled omelette & octopus-shaped sausages

“Watch this,” Gil picks a piece of rolled omelette, cutting it diagonally into two halves. He flips one smaller piece over, putting them together again and creating a heart. Inside the roll are minced carrots, peas and sliced ham. He puts the heart on top of the omelette in Thena’s lunchbox with his buttery corn rice, squeezing some ketchup on it.

“Very creative,” Thena grins, pulling him close to give him a kiss before dropping her breakfast dish into the sink.

“Oh, leave it to me,” Gil says when she starts turning on the tap, “You go get ready for work.”

“Thank you,” she wipes her hands on his apron, then cups his cheeks. He manages to tilt his head and kiss the inside of her palm before she pulls away. His eyes silently ask her how she’s feeling. She holds back a smile, whispering so their guest can’t catch it.

“I’m feeling much better. Thanks for taking care of me last night.”

Gil nods, “I’ll do it again.”

She mouths "love you" and then heads to their bathroom, but Sersi stops her, “Hey, the nail polish we ordered has arrived yesterday.”

“Great timing,” Thena lifts one of her eyebrows, “Would you mind bringing it over to my house after work?”

“No problem,” Sersi replies, then nudges the boy next to her, “Jack, focus on your breakfast. We don't want to be late for the last day of school.”

The 10 years-old boy is examining his small lunchbox, containing the exact same food as Thena’s. Earlier this morning, Phastos and Ben dropped their kid at Gil's so that they could attend a funeral of a distant relative of Ben in the nearby city. Phastos doesn’t want to let him eat junk food and asks Gil to make him some lunch. They also ask Sersi to take him to school. The teacher skips her breakfast to drive to Eternal in fear of being late, but turns out she arrives just when Jack and Thena are having fluffy pancakes. And so Gil, generous as always, makes her some as well. (“Sersi, stop taking pictures, the pancakes will get cold,” Gil chides and Jack snickers, “Miss Sersi got scolded!”)

“Good boy,” Gil comments as Jack finishes his breakfast and cleans up his dishes, putting them into the sink before retrieving his precious lunchbox. The chef hurriedly grabs the set of keys on the table and runs after Sersi.

“You forgot something.”

“Oops,” she sticks her tongue out, taking her keys from him.

“Have a great last day of school,” he says, “By the way, are you going to the high school’s Sport Event on Sunday?”

“You know I can’t miss Sprite’s play. Last year’s The Jungle Book was a huge success.”

“Makkari said you were more excited to see Ajak run.”

“Let’s face it, who isn’t,” Sersi laughs, “We’re leaving now. Thanks for treating me to breakfast.”

“Thanks for the lunchbox, Gil,” Jack says.

“Eat well, don’t leave anything behind,” Gil ruffles his hair.

★

“Do you have a suit?” Thena asks, gripping his arm to slip into her stilettos. Gil smiles, slowly but confidently takes a hold of her waist.

“Maybe. Have you decided to attend the banquet tonight?”

“Sersi said the food would be good, and I think I’ll check out the bar.”

She really has changed. Back in the day, she wouldn't even consider going to such parties. But now? She finds herself entertaining the idea of Gil being her date at all those events.

“Would you at least give me a dance first?”

“We’ll get back to it later, I haven’t tried the chef’s lunchbox today.”

“Are you playing hard to get, miss Thena?” He teases, “I hope you like octopus-shaped sausages.”

He knows damn well she does, her smile and the glint in her eyes just proved it.

“Have a great day at work, my dear,” he kisses her and she sighs into their kiss, pressing herself against him like she can't get enough of him. When they part, she touches her lips to check on her lipstick but Gil shakes his head.

“It’s perfect,” he says, closing the door behind them. They walk together to the gate.

“See you tonight,” she breathes, but neither of them let go of their hands and they stand there for one or two more minutes, Gil twirls a lock of her hair around his forefinger, lowering his head to kiss it, then he keeps planting feather-light kisses up her neck, making her gasp between giggles. And after one, two, three final pecks on her lips, he steps back and pulls open the car door for her.

“Your place at 7?” He confirms and she nods, her legs still wobbly from the kisses. He helps her put the bag that has her lunch and iced vanilla latte inside on the passenger seat, then closes the door.

At lunchtime, he checks his phone and finds a new text from Thena from half an hour ago. She took a picture of her empty lunchbox, apart from the two halves of omelette that form a heart, along with two words: “One dance.” He almost dances around the kitchen, the joy he gets from that single text rushing through him makes it hard to sit still. He kisses the small screen, staring at it in utter bliss for a while longer, then texts back.

“I love you too.”

★

On the way to Thena’s, Gilgamesh can’t help but feel nervous and excited like a high school boy on his first school prom. It’s been a while since he last went to a fancy party. He’s got home and changed after his pottery class is over, and now he constantly adjusts his tie, hoping that the summer heat won’t make him sweat too much in his only suit.

He presses the doorbell and waits, hiding the bouquet behind his back. The door opens after a minute or so and he’s surprised when he finds Sersi is standing there in a dark green midi dress. Her thick raven hair is pulled up into a graceful bun with a glass green pin shaped like a rose.

“You’re here!” She smiles brightly, “Come on in, Thena will be down in a second.”

“You look great, Sersi,” he gives her a thumb up. He forgot Ikaris is Thena’s colleague, of course Sersi would be his date.

Her smile grows brighter, “Thank you! You’re not looking so bad yourself.”

“Really? I’m not used to dressing up like this,” Gil scratches his hair, “I don’t look weird or anything?”

“What are you talking about? Give yourself some credit. Don’t you always say that you’re more handsome than Ikaris?”

“Fat chance,” Ikaris’ voice echoes from the living room and Gil snorts.

“When did you come here?” He asks when they move towards the couch, where Ikaris is sitting.

“About an hour ago. Thena and I helped each other try on dresses and stuff, because neither of us usually goes to banquets.”

“We’ll just stay there for a little while then make some excuses to get out,” Ikaris shrugs, taking Sersi’s hand and tugging until she sits down next to him, “I’m lucky I have Sersi, she’s great with the small talks.”

But Gil has stopped listening, might as well have stopped thinking. Thena just walked into the room. She’s wearing a silk dress, its colour simmers from ivory to white depending on her movements and the way the lights shine on it. It has spaghetti straps and the hem only goes a little past her knees. Its front dips just enough to show her cleavage. The dress fits her perfectly, highlighting her curves and the sway of her hips when she walks. Gil has to put a hand on the wall to steady himself. Her hair cascaded down her back as usual, the rather wild locks have turned into perfect loose curls around her face. Not a single hair is out of place. Above her left ears are a couple of golden hair clips with a diamond bird wing on each.

“Thought I heard your voice,” she smiles, her eyes scanning him up and down in his navy blue suit, and he sees desire in them. The room suddenly becomes too hot and too hard to breathe. He’s just getting used to that predatory look these few months, and her appearance right now doesn’t do him any good.

“You look…” He croaks, but he can’t find any words that are worth describing her beauty. However, That earns him a toothy smile from her, she seems to be endlessly amused that she renders him speechless. Over her lips is a shade of dark red lipstick, stunning and dangerous. She moves just a tad closer to him and holds out her hand, and he closes the distance as if being hypnotised, meeting her halfway. He presents the poor, now dim-looking bouquet to her.

“For you,” he says, taking in her piercings, two on each of her ears, twinkling gold just like her pair of hair clips. She’s very aware of how her double-piercing affects him. In fact, he’s the one who asked her to wear those piercings some days ago so this is really on him. She holds the sunflowers and white daisies close, whispering a “thank you”, her ears redden. He touches the familiar spot on the small of her back, the spot that recently his mind starts to call “his spot” unconsciously. He feels his knees weaken when he realizes the dress is almost backless, only white straps crisscrossing each other from her waist to her shoulder blades.

“Wow,” his voice comes out shakily. He wants nothing more than to kiss her, but he fears he might not be able to stop and her perfect red lipstick would be smudged and they would be late and oh my god she’s taking off his tie– Her long, slender fingers skillfully pull the fabric all the way down and she adjusts the collar. Finally, she pops open the top button of his white shirt.

“This is more like you,” she says, her hand lingers, patting his chest once more. He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

“Ready?” She asks, sliding her arm through the crook of his. He nods, noticing her fingernails have the same shade of red as her lips, and so are her toenails. The colour is captivating on her pale skin.

“Shall we go?” Ikaris clears his throat to remind them that there are other people there, because the atmosphere surrounding them is getting quite alert.

“I called an Uber for us,” Sersi says, putting her phone into her purse. Thena also grabs hers.

“Let’s get this over with,” Ikaris stands up and stretches.

“You and Thena are so alike sometimes,” Sersi chuckles as she puts a tiepin on Ikaris, while Gil gestures for Thena to sit down on the couch’s armrest, then he gets on one knee and sticks two band-aids which he brought with him on her achilles heels so the new shoes won’t hurt her feet.

“We are not alike!” They both snap simultaneously, then glare at each other.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Thena mumbles with a frown, not particularly at anyone in the room. Gil only laughs, lifting one of her feet onto his right knee.

“Yeah, you two aren’t alike at all,” he agrees, “You, my dear, you can rock in a suit and I bet Ikaris could never look as gorgeous in a silk dress as you.”

“Hey! I have feelings too!” Ikaris gapes at him as Sersi and Thena laugh so hard they almost fall over.

★

They ride an Uber to a hotel downtown, stepping into the bright, crowded lobby and being led into a large hall, where the law firm’s anniversary party is held. Gilgamesh can’t take his eyes off Thena and she’s having a hard time not touching him. One of her hands clasped in his, the other either tugs at the lapels of his jacket, or brushes something off his shoulder. One time she reaches into his inside pockets for a tissue, her gardenia perfume clings to his jacket. He’s lucky he hasn’t tripped on anything.

There are tables arranged along the walls. The four of them are placed together at the same table. They have no idea where Kingo is seated because he keeps jumping from one table to another. He goes from greeting to flirting to dancing and drinking. He catches Thena and Gilgamesh at the bar, hyping up their outfits and forcing them to take some selfies with him, and then some junior lawyer calls out for him and he disappears in a blink of an eye. They see Sersi gleefully talking to Thena and Ikaris’ co-worker. She seems to remember everybody there from the few times she’s met them. You should never underestimate a teacher’s ability to memorize multiple faces.

When the party officially starts, they return to their table. Gilgamesh sits next to Thena, and some people recognize him because they have been to Eternal one day or another. Every time some woman makes small talk with him, he feels Thena’s hand on his thigh, and he tries to ignore the looks they’ve been getting ever since they arrived. Soon, the food is served and he gets to relax a bit. And because Thena somehow coaxed him into talking about the dishes that he can make with the vegetables in his garden, he doesn’t know that except for Sersi and Ikaris, almost everyone at the nearby tables is staring at them with curiosity. Their eyes widen as Gil, still talking, casually cuts the steak on her plate and brings a slice to her lips with his fork, and she happily takes it in one bite. She’s listening to him with a genuine interest, not-so-successful in hiding her small laugh into her glass of wine. Many people there never get to hear her let out so much of an amused chuckle.

Gil is smiling from ear to ear because his Thena is having a good time. Little does he know, she’s having a good time because of him.

“Everybody in this room, except our friends, is jealous of me,” he leans forward a bit and whispers into her ear. The music is pretty loud at the moment and Sersi just pulled Ikaris onto the dance floor. Kingo already made himself the center of the party, as usual.

“Nonsense,” she snorts.

“I’m serious!” He insists, “Have you looked at yourself tonight? Took my breath away.”

“So, have you got it back?” Thena puts her chin on her palm, “I think I owe someone a dance.”

“You just want me all to yourself, don’t you?”

“And you don’t want that?” Her left eyebrow forms a perfect arch.

The moment a slower song comes up, Gil immediately stands and takes her hand, pulling her to her feet. He leads them both to the dance floor, circling her waist. Perhaps it is he who eagerly wants her for himself. His hand covers hers on his chest, their gaze never leaving each other, despite those looks still glued to their backs. They dance to the song leisurely, shifting one foot to another, feeling each other’s breaths. He pulls her closer on the second song, which Kingo has requested to be another slow song, their hips touch like they always do whenever they dance together at home. He nuzzles her hair and she puts her head on his chest.

“What do you think if we get the hell out of here by the end of this song?” She asks, feeling the warmth from his hand on the exposed parts of her back, “I know a fine bar not so far from here. I could buy you a drink, for dressing up so nicely for me.”

“Then make out in a corner of that bar?” He thinks this time he can smudge her lipstick without any real consequences.

She grins into his jacket, “You always have the best ideas.”

“And you know I'm always down with everything you're up to,” he kisses the crown of her head.

“And I, you.”

#thenamesh #thena x gilgamesh #gilgamesh x thena #eternals #thena #gilgamesh #thenamesh fanfic

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