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loonylupinn · 3 years ago

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you belong with me

summary : stark!reader nurses peter parker back to health after a particularly bad mission

warnings : tooth-aching fluff, angst if you squint ?? awkward teenagers

You had known Peter Parker from school long before you knew Spider-Man. You remembered learning to play your band instruments together, a hobby you would quickly drop, but he stayed quite passionate about. He was a dorky little kid with freckles & unmanageable hair & a bus pass.

Now, Peter Parker was around every corner you turned. Whether he would be in his superhero facade or his teenage boy self, you never knew. But he was always there.

Not that you cared. No, you had been in love with Peter Parker forever.

Not that anyone would be able to tell. The most that came out of you two was awkward mumbles & apologizing after bumping into each other in the halls. You talked to Ned more than you talked to Peter (which said a lot since you worked with Peter). Your dad had tried to get you two to talk to each other in his lab, but it just produced an awkward silence & Peter tripping over his own feet when he tried to walk away. Never again.

This was what kept you up on the chilly fall night. The fact that Peter Parker couldn’t talk to you without tripping over his feet or shrugging away. You were sure he absolutely hated you, probably looking for an exit every time you walked into a room. You shivered & shrunk further into your hoodie, both hoping for warmth & a way out of your own head.

He’s just Peter; why did you care so much?

You were about to ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. to put on a horror movie, probably Carrie or The Shining, one you had seen a thousand times & wouldn’t mind falling asleep to, when you heard a loud thud at your window.

Your mom & dad had been very clear on not answering any windows or doors without them around. You were seen as an easy target to ,,, well, everyone. There was one time you had answered the door home alone & dad had chewed you out for a week. Of course, it was only the mailman, but still.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. who’s at the window?” You whispered, trying to make sure whatever enemy couldn’t hear your mumbling; although, your panicked breaths had already made it clear someone was home.

“It appears Peter Parker is at your window, Miss Stark,” The voice returned in a comically low volume, mocking your whisper.

That sentence alone made the sleepiness rocket out of you. It was nearly 1 A.M. & the love of your life was at your window. You paced a few steps, racking your brain for a witty greeting when you heard a grunt & muffled knock at the window again.

“Right, right,” You mumbled, rushing to the window & opening it wide.

“Ah, I was getting scared you were asleep,” Peter chirped as he clumsily climbed through your window.

No, but now I wish I had been.

“Good evening, by the way,” Peter added, pulling his mask off hurriedly while you clamped the locks back on your window.

“Peter, it’s 1 A.M.”

“So, good night?” He replied shyly. He was about to hide himself in his hands when he saw how your shoulders shook in a laugh. “So, I uh, I have a problem,” He began. “& I remembered you went to that nursing camp Freshman year-“

“I never told you about that,” You interrupted & felt your cheek heat up as you realized you had made it obvious you remembered every conversation with the boy.

“ Well you just did,” Peter sassed, sitting at your desk chair with a grunt. “So I wanted to stop this bad guy-“

“I can go get my dad-“ You started, walking towards the door.

“No! No, no that’s not, um, that’s not necessary,” Peter demanded shyly. “I just, I think I got hurt pretty bad.”

& suddenly, it all clicked in your brain. The grunting when he moved, the demanding knocks, the way he rushed his words. He was hurt. You hated the way you blushed hard when you realized he was asking you to look at his wounds. Had you not dreamed of this moment for years? Why were you so choked up now?

“It’ll be easier if you sit on the bed,”You mumble, sitting in the corner of the bed.

He nodded & you watched as he sat next to you, leaning against the headboard. You should’ve helped him stand up. You should’ve walked him over to the bed, like you did when the other Avengers asked for your help with injuries. But you were too taken back by the situation as the boy of your dreams hobbled over to your bed & un-gracefully laid himself down.

“So, um, what hurts? On a scale of 1-10?” You stuttered, ringing your hands together. He looked at you with an exasperated expression.

“I thought you would just look at my injuries,” he snapped, blushing hard after he realized how harsh his words had come out.

“This is just what we were taught at the camp,” You explained gently & he nodded, rating his pain a 6 & telling you his side hurt.

But you knew that. You could see the blood dripping from his suit, shit, you could smell it. If it were Thor or Cap or even your dad you would’ve ridiculed them, even joked with them as you hurriedly pushed up their suit & cleaned their wounds. You would’ve chastised them for interrupting your horror movie time.

But they weren’t Peter.

So you just nodded & asked him to lift up his suit. He explained he’d have to take part of it off. But again, you knew this. You mentally kicking yourself for seeming so stupid. You turned away as he striped the top half of his suit & when you turned back you tried to only direct your eyes to the wound & definitely not to his toned chest or soft skin.

“How did the mission go?” You asked as you crawled out of the bed & into the bathroom to get supplies.

Should’ve done that before he sat down.

But Peter didn’t seem to notice your absent mindedness. Instead, he excitedly described how he stopped robbers & tricked them cleverly & was the hero the town needed. Logically, you knew that this was a romanticized version of a story where the boy smarted off at robbers & then lazily fought them, as you were sure he hadn’t slept well in a long time, but your heart believed that Peter could do, & did, everything & anything.

You returned & started focusing in on the wound, cleaning it tentatively, as Peter continued to ramble on about the encounter. You tried to ignore the way he excitedly talked with his hands or the way his voice was getting louder & louder as he carried on. These were all things that left you dumbfounded with Peter. You lived for the moments when he got excited & passionate. You lived for that gleam in his eye.

But right now, you had a job.

“You’re really good at this,” Peter noted randomly. You blushed a dark crimson, one you hoped he wouldn’t notice, & glanced up at him puzzled. “Well when I go to Aunt May with injuries she gets all panicked & then she doesn’t do as good of a job. But you’re kind of awesome at this.”

“You’re kind of awesome.” You said it before you had the chance to think about it. Now you wanted to crawl into a hole & never come out, especially after the long moment of silence where Peter stared at you wide-eyed & your mouth hung open. “I, um, well, you really showed those robbers who’s boss. Thats pretty awesome,” You added.

Peter knew that wasn’t what you meant. He saw the way you blushed & the way you watched his chest rise & fall. But, he wouldn’t say anything. No, not when he looked like the idiot who banged on the girl he cared so much for’s window & then got his comforter bloody & sweaty in the middle of the night. He felt like a foul & so he didn’t note your scrambled antics.

“You think? I thought Mr. Stark would yell at me.”

“Oh, he will. But I’m not Mr. Stark,” You sassed. “So I thought it was awesome.” Now it was Peter’s turn to blush.

“Thanks,” He mumbled in return.

There were moments of silence when you were bandaging his wounds. He had short gashes all along his sides that made you think the robbers had a knife, but you wouldn’t question the boy. In these moments of silence, Peter was taking you in. He hadn’t really noticed how you looked when he climbed in the window, his adrenaline pumping too hard, but when he looked at you now he was dumbstruck.

Your cheeks & nose were rosy in the Winter temperature & Peter wished he was confident enough to kiss each area. Your messy hair hung wildly & he knew you would later be embarrassed about it, but he loved it. He loved how natural you looked right now, not stressing over a new mission your dad was talking about or hiding yourself away at school. You looked like the girl Peter had formed a crush over all those years ago.

“Have I ever told you how pretty I think you are?” Peter spoke into the night, gulping nervously after he did. He hadn’t thought the statement out.

You only hummed confusedly in response, staying leaned over his wound even though you were done bandaging him up. He could leave at any moment, but part of you wanted to grip onto him & make him stay after he spoke that simple question.

“I just think you’re pretty,” He whispered, unsure of himself now. “You definitely don’t get it from Mr. Stark though,” He added, hoping humor would save himself for when you rejected him.

You leaned away from his wound, laughing comfortably. He grinned in response, loving the approval he got from your laughter.

“Thanks,” You mumbled in between laughs.

When you looked up at Peter, you could see the yearning in his eyes. He wanted something in this moment. He wanted you to say something, anything. If he could be confident right now, why can’t I? Why can’t I just say something?

“I think you’re pretty too.”

It didn’t come out the way you wanted it to. It came out rushed & blunt & you had meant to sound poetic & say something like ‘Peter you’re incredibly handsome’ or ‘You look gorgeous in this lighting’ or ‘Parker, I’ve loved you since you looked like a moron in our middle school math class’. Okay, maybe not that one. But, instead you had just called him pretty. It seemed to do the job though, as he blushed harshly & readjusted himself in the bed.

“You think?”

“Totally. I mean not like pretty in a little girl way,” You rushed. “Pretty in like a handsome way, you know? I think boys can be pretty. Although you probably don’t want to be called pretty, being a superhero & all-“.

“You can call me pretty if you want to,” Peter reassured, smirking at the way you rambled nervously.

“Oh okay good,” You mumbled, fidgeting with your fingers.

Peter thought there was no way he could mess this up. Not when it had already gone so well. So he leaned up, grunting in pain, & placed a kiss on your cheek. It wasn’t great. No, the kiss was chapped & rushed & clumsy, but it was a kiss & it was from Peter. He even added another kiss to your rosy nose, just like he had thought of doing before.

“Thanks,” You whispered, your eyes slotted shut for a moment.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to say thanks after someone kisses you,” Peter ridiculed & you glared at him sharply. There was a moment of flickering. A moment where your eyes danced around each other’s faces, always going back to your lips.

“Are you going to kiss me, Spidey?” You shuddered, meaning to sound more confident than you did.

“Would you like that?” God, he sounded confident. You could only hum & nod in response.

He leaned forward & slotted his lips against yours. This kiss was far better than his first attempt, pressing his lips to yours confidently & sweetly. You brushed your hands through his hair & then around his neck, just like you saw in the movies. His hands rested on your thighs comfortably, as you were sitting criss- crossed on the bed. At one point you had hummed into the kiss, feeling stupid in your antics, but Peter hadn’t moved from his spot until you were both gasping for a breath.

“I’ve wanted to that since middle school,” You admitted, rushed. You hoped he hadn’t heard it as soon as you said it, but you felt his chuckle brush onto your face.

“Makes two of us, hm?” He responded, evidently more confident now.

That was when F.R.I.D.A.Y. had alerted you two that your dad had gotten up for a glass of water, in the comical whisper from earlier that night.

“I should go,” Peter stated in more of a question than a statement.

You simply nodded, wishing you could hide him somewhere in the room so you could spend the rest of the night kissing him. I mean, you had waited long enough. He placed one more kiss upon your lips before he slid away from you shyly. He wanted to say something bold like, ‘We should do that again sometime’ or ‘Are you usually free on nights like these?’. He was sure those would make you blush a fiery red.

“I like you, a lot,” Was what he had landed on. He’d kick himself over that a lot.

“Yeah, I got that,” You sassed, dishing out his own attitude back to him. He rolled his eyes, but his face had split into a grin.

“I’ll swing ya later,” He called, a bad play off the phrase ‘I’ll smell ya later’ as he swung out your window.

You sat dumbfounded for a minute, trying to convince yourself that this night had been real & you wouldn’t wake up to Carrie causing blood-bath at prom night. But if this was a movie, you knew the perfect playlist.

“Jarvis, drop my needle,” You said confidently, mocking your dad in your own little way.

Bad romance songs boomed throughout the house & you got up, dancing sillily in your pajamas, singing into your toothbrush as you returned your medic supplies to your bathroom cabinets. You knew your dad would yell at you in a minute for making too much noise.

“& you picked Taylor Swift?” He would say, but you didn’t care.

“Can’t you see that I’m the one who understands? Been here all along so why can’t you see you belong with me! You belong with me!” You sang loudly.

You would later learn that the noise had scared both your dad & your mom in the middle of the, causing you to get you Jarvis privileges taken away for a week, & that Peter had waited outside your window to hear if you would ridicule him once you left. Instead, he heard your girly giggles & singing throughout the night. As he swung home, he couldn’t help but hum to himself.

“You belong with me,” He hummed & blocks away, in your room he knew you were singing back to him.

#oh wow i love this #i’m so soft #once again #mcu #peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #spider man x reader #spider man x y/n #spider man x you #marvel fic #mcu fic

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delos-mio · 4 years ago

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First Thing To Go - DAY 1

DAY 1

Around dinner time and with a complimentary drink in hand, you took the elevator to the top floor. The Oceanfront Suite at the Four Seasons Maui awaited you and Kendra- two full weeks of what was supposed to be romance and relaxation. Now it seemed you wouldn’t be experiencing either. You made it to the grand white double doors of the suite and let yourselves in.

The suite was enormous with a living and dining room, doors off to the side that led to a master bedroom with a canopied California king bed. The en suite had a jacuzzi with crisp, white his and her robes hanging beside it. Your mouth downturned and you quickly spun on your heel, eager to look at anything else.

“Holy shit,” Kendra said with a whistle. “You guys were really gonna ball out.”

“Were,” you muttered and tossed your bag aside.

“Sorry.” Her eyes were down before she turned to investigate the suite further. You shouldn’t have been so defensive, especially toward the one person who dropped everything to be there for you. But you couldn’t help the turning of the knife in your chest every time you were reminded of why you were originally supposed to be here.

The room was ridiculous. There was a chilled bottle of Dom Perignon waiting for you with a card from the hotel. You flipped it open and read the obnoxious calligraphy inside:

Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Langford! From, your friends at the Four Seasons

Great. You really should have seen it coming by now. The hotel was under the impression this was your honeymoon, after all.

“This balcony is sick!” You looked up and saw Kendra leaning on the glass wall, face turned up to the sun. You tossed the stupid card in the trash can on your way to join her. She was right- the view was absolutely breathtaking. There was pristine sand and cerulean ocean as far as the eye could see, the smell of salt and tropical flowers heavy in the air. You took a deep breath and stood next to Kendra.

“I’m sorry for being shitty to you,” you said softly.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I get it.” She nudged you with her shoulder. “But I hope you do realize I’m not going to let you mope while we’re somewhere this fucking beautiful.”

You laughed and nodded in silent acquiescence.

“Can I make a suggestion for our first order of business?” you asked with a playful turn of your lips. Kendra looked over with a raised eyebrow, urging you to go on. “I brought my medical card. Find a dispensary and order room service?”

“Ugh, so brilliant. Such a smart and thoughtful woman,” Kendra said, flashing you a devilish grin.

—-

It hadn’t taken much work to find a provisioning center near the hotel. You and Kendra made quick work of the trip and returned to the suite, ordering enough food to clean out the kitchen. The sun was long since down and you were laid out in the sun loungers on the balcony, pleasantly high with a belly full of food, just looking up at the sky with Kendra.

“It’s nice to see them for once,” you said.

“Hmm?”

“The stars. Don’t really get to see much of them back home. Only if you go out over the lake.”

“Yeah, it’s really relaxing,” she agreed before letting out a long yawn. “I’m sleepy. I’m gonna go lay down- you staying out here?”

“Just for a little bit longer.” Kendra looked at you as she stood up, biting her lip with uncertainty. “I’m not going to jump if that’s what you’re worried about.”

She laughed as she leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Just making sure. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night.” And with that, Kendra shut the balcony doors behind her, leaving you alone with the ocean breeze and half a blunt.

The world was quiet out here- nothing like the constant roar of the city. Lake View was a wonderful neighborhood and one you loved dearly. But there was something about only being able to listen to the breeze rustling palm leaves that put you at ease. You didn’t really consider yourself a beach kind of gal, but perhaps you could see yourself becoming one. After the last 72 or so hours, a little quiet felt pretty good. Serene, even. Maybe Kendra really was onto something when she begged you to come out here.

You lit the end and took another deep hit before closing your eyes and exhaling.

“Ah, one of my favorite smells.” Your eyes snapped open and you gasped, totally unaware that anyone else was anywhere near you. You clumsily tried to snuff out the blunt, knocking over the ashtray onto the marble floor with a loud crack. “Oh shit,” you coughed and looked around trying to find the voice that had just spoken.

“No need to stop on my accord.” The voice was deep and smooth, sultry even. There was a good chance you just made a total fool out of yourself while fumbling around in your inebriated state. You were still anxiously looking about when he added “On your left, darling.”

You spun and finally saw a feline smile on the face of a tall, undeniably gorgeous man standing on the balcony next to yours. He was tall and lean, all dark hair, beard, and eyes. Truthfully, he was textbook ‘your type’. But the minute that thought ran through your brain, you were already mentally berating yourself for even finding another person attractive just a day into what was supposed to be your honeymoon. He took a swig from a rocks glass and cocked an eyebrow.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about the smell traveling,” you said sheepishly.

“Like I said, one of my favorite smells.” Like a good neighbor, you walked to the railing closest to him and offered out the blunt to him. “Sorry,” he said, raising a hand. Fuck, even his fingers were beautiful. “I’m down to only liquid vices these days, I’m afraid,” shaking around the ice in his glass for emphasis.

“Ok…” You weren’t entirely sure what that meant, but didn’t think it was appropriate to press a stranger for details.

“I’m Logan, nice to meet you,” he said and stuck out his hand far enough that you could just barely brush the tips of your fingers against his as you introduced yourself. It was a completely awkward gesture, which seemed to greatly amuse Logan.

“Likewise.” You put your feet back on solid ground and looked at Logan again.

“So, are you here in a suite by yourself or is there a mister or missus with you?”

“Real smooth,” you laughed.

“It’s just a question,” he said, tone laced with faux innocence.

You stopped short and considered dumping everything that happened on him right then. “I’m here with my best friend, actually,” you said tersely.

Logan narrowed his gaze as he looked you over. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“I literally don’t know you, so yeah,” you laughed, trying hard to keep it casual.

“Maybe that’s true,” he shrugged, “But it’s written all over your face. It’s ok if you don’t want to tell me.” He took another drink. “I’ll tell you why I’m here.”

“Ok, lay it on me,” you said, almost baiting Logan, and leaned on the railing with your chin resting in your palm.

“I checked out of a rehab in Malibu last night. My shrink told me it’d be better for me if I slowly worked my way back into the real world and suggested I take a little to myself before getting back to work and my family. Life in general, I guess,” he shrugged.

You didn’t know the man, that was certain, but you didn’t expect him to say that. Or to be so honest. You were really starting to feel bad for getting high right next door to him. “Wow, I...I’m so sorry for smoking next to you.”

Logan just laughed and waved you off. “You have nothing to apologize for, darling. Besides, you literally didn’t know me, right?”

You rolled your eyes at him quoting your own words back at you. “Very funny.” You looked down for a minute before taking a long breath and exhaling. “And how’s the ‘time for yourself’ thing going? Is it scary,” you asked.

“So far, so good,” Logan said, clearly considering how it was actually going. “I’ve been clean for 94 days now, so my cravings aren’t as strong. I mean, I still want to use, don’t get me wrong. But it’s nowhere near as intense. And what’s not to like about being in paradise?” He was grinning, despite the weight of what he just told you. It was admirable, you thought.

“This was supposed to be my honeymoon,” you said abruptly. Why you decided to tell this stranger, you didn’t really know. But it felt like it would be ok to share it with Logan. Besides, you’d probably never see the dude again- who cares if he knew?

“Pardon me?”

“This,” you gestured broadly at your balcony and room, “I’m supposed to be enjoying my honeymoon right now. But as I already told you, I’m here with my best friend. Like, my actual best friend. Not the ‘oh I’m so glad I’m marrying my best friend’ best friend. And not a husband. Don’t have one of those.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” he said with a small frown.

“He packed up all his things, told me there was someone else, and left me two days before our wedding.” You let out a sad chuckle, using all your might to fight back the tears you knew wanted to form in your eyes. “So, yeah. Guess we’re both kind of bummers, huh?”

“For what it’s worth,” Logan started, leaning in closer over his ledge, “I think the guy’s a fucking douche bag for leaving you. I know we don’t know each other very well, but you seem delightful. Not to mention you’re fucking gorgeous.”

“You’re seriously going to hit on me when I just told you I was supposed to get married yesterday?” you scoffed.

“What am I supposed to say?” he asked, raising a perfect eyebrow and checking you out from head to toe. “If I see a beautiful woman, I think it’s my duty to share that with her.”

“You’re shameless,” you smiled and shook your head. It should have disgusted you. It should have turned you off and made you think Logan was a pig. But you couldn’t help but be just the smallest bit charmed. He was a flirt, and there was a little piece of you that was genuinely flattered.

“I’ve been called worse,” he laughed.

“Well, thanks, I guess,” you said before looking back out over the ocean, hoping to hide the heat that was rising in your cheeks.

“My pleasure,” Logan said with a smile. “So, the asshole left you high and dry and you went on your honeymoon with your best friend anyways?”

“To be fair, it was her idea.” You tugged at the ends of your hair, suddenly nervous that Logan would judge you.

“I like her style.” He finished off his drink. “I can’t imagine there’s anyone else who deserves to be stoned in Hawaii more than you,” Logan grinned.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you groaned. “So fucking embarrassing.”

“Nah. It’s cute. You’re cute.” His voice was low and gravely, but playful. You felt a stirring in your stomach and knew you had to cut the conversation short while you were still ahead.

“It’s late, I should probably go to bed before Kendra thinks I’ve done something stupid.” You meant for it to be a joke, but you realized you really didn’t want to worry her more than you knew she already did.

“Wouldn’t want that,” he nodded.

“It was nice talking to you. Thanks for letting me dump all my baggage on you,” you said, a tiny smile forming on your lips.

“Any time, darling.”

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” As you said it, you realized you really hoped you would.

“I sure hope so,” he said with a smirk.

“Goodnight, Logan.” You bit gently on your bottom lip and finally pushed away from the railing.

“Sweet dreams.”

You let yourself back inside and quickly got ready for bed. Talking to someone removed from the whole ordeal felt nice- someone who didn’t ask a million questions so you could just process what happened in its simplest terms. And Logan had proven to be thoughtful and a good listener. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Logan was ungodly hot. No, you scolded yourself. No thinking about Logan or anyone else like that for a long, long time. Once you’d crawled under the covers, you couldn’t stop the weight of sleep tugging at your eyelids, bringing with it dreams of a dark eyed prince.

TAGGED: @fific7 @abroadcastofthemind @suchatinyinfinity

#logan #logan delos #logan x reader #logan delos x reader #ben barnes #westworld #logan westworld #logan fanfic #logan delos fanfic #westworld fanfic #ben barnes character fic #fttg #masterlist

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curse-of-the-dark-emerald · 5 years ago

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Curse of the Dark Emerald, chapter 1

Author's Notes: Hello everyone this is my first time writing for Sonic and tackling the idea of Sonic in the movie verse as a Werehog because since watching the film I think myself and a lot of others have been egging (no pun intended xD) to have a shot at this. So I hope as my first time it comes off good and not too terrible! Apologies for any story mistakes! Please enjoy and keeping it at around PG-13 rated.

...

Tom Wachowski unlocked the door to his house, his body slumped involuntarily as he entered, it was a long, and dull uneventful day. He was tired from doing the usual patrolling of Green Hill and not much happened, which was pretty typical. Ozzy, his beloved golden retriever didn’t waste time greeting his owner and stood on his back legs lurching his upper body on Tom in the form of a hug.

“Hey, Oz! Good boy!”

Ozzy manages to leave a lick of drool on his face and instantly after receiving the affection, he settles down and sits at Tom’s feet. A neon, blue line zipped behind Ozzy.

“Hey, Donut Lord! You’re back!”

A young, blue hedgehog jumps onto Tom’s chest and and embraces him into a hug, Tom could feel his quills against his head bristling. Sonic’s cheeks were blushing from the joy to see his best friend back home. Electric green eyes meet Tom’s.

“Hey, bud, good to see you.” Tom returns the hug and gently drops Sonic to the floor.

Sonic rests his fists on his sides, “You bring anything cool back? Like some food?” Sonic makes the brightest smile at Tom.

“Sorry, bud. Not this time.” Tom chuckled at Sonic, knowing him he was thinking he’d brought home a take out meal for free.

Sonic groaned, “Aww come on! I haven’t had a chili dog in like, forever!” He folds his arms and huffs at Tom.

“Hi, Tom.”

Maddie appears and made her greeting with a peck on the cheek for Tom. “Don’t worry about him, he’s been good today.”

“Oh I’m not worried about that,” Tom took off his coat and put it on the coat hanger, ''But I’m more worried about Mr. Flash here getting too fat, for sure!” He teases.

Sonic laughs, but pauses; and he furrows his eyes, “Hey!”

“Did you take your nap, earlier, Sonic? Tom gives Sonic a pat on his head before walking past him and going into the kitchen.

“Of course I did!” Sonic rolled his eyes.

“I made some soup and breadsticks, so no hot dogs Sonic.” Maddie winked at Sonic, she knew his bribery at Tom had failed.

“Yeah, yeah ,okay.” Sonic sighed in disappointment, and took a seat at the table.

“Hey Sonic, how’re your muscles feeling?” Maddie finished bringing all the utensils for Tom and Sonic and sat down, grinning at the hedgehog.

“Really sore.” Sonic moans a little and rubs his back, “That workout was a killer yesterday, I don’t think I’ll do it again.”

Both of them laughed to each other, Maddie took her turn to tease him.

Tom smiles to himself warmly, his job may be dull at times but it was a different story here at home, which he didn’t mind. He always felt happier and lighter seeing Sonic as the new member of the household, officially welcomed after he and Maddie made him his own room in the attic. That was only a few weeks ago, and October was just around the corner. Tom and Maddie had already mentioned to Sonic about Halloween, which of course the little hedgehog was excited for, but that would be discussed later on.

Sonic was his usual chipper self, talked about his day but also made sure to let his guardians speak as well. Which he was getting better at. Tom let himself to the daily newspaper while Sonic and Maddie made small talk, turning the thin pages from time to time, reading the daily funny comics, then the weather, then he remembered he forgot to even look at the front page, the title in black, bold letters read

“Trick of the Eyes? Or the new Montana’s “Northern Lights?”

“Woah..”

Tom scans over the slightly blurred picture below the main headline, which was in color thankfully; showing that in the next town over, there were sights of odd, but dazzling green and blue rays reminiscent of the northern lights anyone was familiar with in the Northern continents, but different.

“Hey, wanna see something cool?”

Sonic’s lime-green orbs lit up at Tom, “Yeah, sure, what’s up?”

Tom folds the paper for him to see better, “Looks like you might not be the only alien thing around,” he jokes.

But the moment Sonic looked at the picture of the headline, his eyes went sharp and into a trance, he gingerly took the paper, read it over and didn’t say another word. Sonic’ss mouth hung agape a little, but made no sound.

Maddie and Tom glanced at each other, not knowing when or what to say at first, but Tom beats her to it, “Sonic? What’s the matter?”

Sonic blinked his eyes and finally made his gaze at them, “I’m okay! It really is cool, Tom.”

Sonic almost couldn't finish his sentence and was interrupted by a yawn. He shook his head to fight the sudden sleepiness.

“Are you all done with your food?” Maddie began taking dishes to the sink.

“Yep, I’m done.” Sonic gently pushed his plate away and got down, heading for his room.

Tom still kept watch on Sonic’s expression the whole time, he could tell the young hedgehog has something lingering in his mind, behind that smile. But, he thought, I’ll give him his space for now.

“Good night, Sonic!” Maddie gently shouts so she could overpower the sound of clinking dishes and running water.

“Goodnight!” Sonic makes a hasty wave at Tom and dashed to his room, opening the floor boarded door and closing it behind him.

“Ugh, I gotta..go..!”

Sonic fumbles with his words and thoughts, trying to think and properly conjure the crazy idea that he was about to do,

“That story in the paper...it felt so weird...and it's bugging me…”

Sonic tosses all his belongings that were on the floor which were just left scattered around messily, looking for the most important things to him, his brain couldn’t remember where he put them, until he checked the drawers and instantly, his pouch of Rings were there in his stash of socks.

“Cool beans, I gotcha! Now, I should...UGH I gotta go now! No no no, calm down and slow down, I can’t just go there yet…”

Sonic took a sharp breath in, and slowed his brain down to think more clearly, “I have to wait until they’re asleep. So they don’t worry.”

It was finally settled on what he had to do. While he waited for Tom and Maddie to get to bed and sleep, he made his quick preparations on what to take for this short journey to the town outside of Green Hill. Sonic looked out the upper window of his room, a near full moon glistened it’s face downwards with it’s light.

“Backpack, check. Flashlight, check.”

Sonic grabbed his Rings, took one out and held it firmly in his hand, and stashed the rest into his bigger bag. Happy with his things, he took a step towards the door,

A rustle of noises was heard outside, he whipped to see what it was from and thought he also saw a pair of red eyes peering from the same window. The years of old paranoia washed over and Sonic quickly checked outside on the roof, and he found nothing about that could be spying.

“Come on, let’s go already.” Sonic griped at himself to get going, shook his head, and went to his door, the house lights below were off and a dark staircase greeted him.

Sonic quietly tiptoed to Tom and Maddie’s room, and he was happy to find out his timing was good, they were preparing to go to sleep, but they spoke amongst themselves in their room which muffled both voices a little bit.

“He had a weird reaction to that story from the paper, you think he’s okay?”- Maddie

“Not sure, but it might not be that big of a deal.”-Tom

A sigh was let out from one of them, though Sonic couldnt see who it was.

“You’re probably right, but I’m...a little worried.”

Tom took the covers and slipped on the bed, “I’ll admit I am a little too, but for now if Sonic wants to tell us what it is, let’s just wait.”

Sonic’s chest tightened, he felt a little guilty for what he was about to do and rethinks if telling both of them would be best, but he was happy to hear they were so concerned about him.

“Okay, Tom. I don’t want to press him either, but you’re totally right.”

They’ll be fine.

Sonic had heard just enough to put himself at ease, he heard the bedroom become silent not long after, that was the que to make his move.

He promised to himself, “I’ll be back before the sun comes up.”

Sonic went back upstairs to his room, took the golden ring in hand, tossed it and a whirl of energy and wind blows, the ring showcases a sea of green pine trees on the other side,

“Nothing wrong with a little adventure, right?” Sonic rubbed his gloves together, his nervousness had vanished with the thought of what could be on the other side, waiting for him.

He goes in and the ring closes. His room was now vacant. Until an arm pulls down the window pane on the ceiling...

A black clothed person carefully props himself to the floor, wearing red tinted goggles on his head and a black beanie to mask himself.

“Whew, close one.”

After getting his balance, the man moves his goggles up his face, Agent Stone had been following his target for the last few days. He scans the room for anything he could use to further his plans into action, the execution to start could now begin.

“What now..? Oh..?” Stone’s eyes catch onto something interesting,

A single gold ring glowed on the floor, he grinned playfully at the item, studying it.

“He used this to disappear? Hmm..”

He barely moved his fingers and the ring slips from his grasp, clumsily it falls back on the floor, opening a portal.

“Woah, what the-?” Stone stepped back, startled.

From what he could see it was the same place his target took off to, green forests of trees and he saw large footprints from where Sonic was headed.

“No time to waste, then.”

He had his mission to fulfill, and he took the jump inside the ring, and it closed from behind. Stone looked back expecting the bedroom to be there, but it wasn’t. Stone went into focus and followed Sonic’s footsteps.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic the hedghog movie #sonic unleashed #sonic #sonic fanart #sonic the werehog #sonic fanfiction

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rosedavid · 5 years ago

Note

83 on the ways to say ily

sure! thank you for the request! :)

83. “Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

Also they are aged up to high school in this one, but still tw for underage drinking and also death

…

The harsh blue light from Cyrus’s phone combined with the incessant vibrating is enough to rouse him from sleep in the middle of the night. At first, he tries to ignore it, weariness urging him back to sleep; however, as the vibrating continues, he’s unable to ignore it any longer. Rubbing his eyes, Cyrus reaches clumsily for his phone. He squints at the brightness of the screen, just able to make out the blurry contact name.

It’s TJ. TJ is calling him at nearly 2 AM, not to mention he’s obviously called more than once. Any sleepiness present before has now rapidly left, replaced with such excessive amounts of worrying that Cyrus didn’t even know he had the energy for. He answers with no hesitation. The first thing he hears on the other line is harsh breathing amongst what sounds like EDM playing in the distance.

“Teej?” Cyrus prompts. “Are you okay?”

Another heavy breath, this time coupled with a sniffle. “Think I messed up, Cy.”

Immediately, Cyrus is on his feet, phone clutched expertly between his shoulder and ear. He starts getting dressed in the first thing he can find, stumbling about his room in a panic while also trying to get more information out of TJ.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just tell me what happened,” Cyrus soothes. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard TJ this distraught before.

It takes a few more sniffles and beats of music before TJ finally speaks again. “I-I didn’t mean, I swear…I jus’, I was so upset, didn’t know what else…”

An overwhelming sense of dread washes over Cyrus. The jumbled, slurred words, over emotionality, pulsing music in the background…TJ must be at a party, and it sounds like he’s drunk. Cyrus wracks his brain, trying to think of if he heard of any parties happening tonight. Suddenly, he remembers one of the more popular people talking before his chemistry class about some party happening at someone’s house…Brendon? Blake?

“TJ, where are you?” Cyrus asks, hoping he’s at least aware enough to answer that question.

“I swear I didn’ mean to,” he blubbers.

“I know you didn’t,” Cyrus shushes, “but I really need to know where you are.”

“…B-br…Brad’s house.”

Brad. Brad from the basketball team. Buffy has his address because they had to do a group project once. He remembers because she never stopped complaining about it.

“Stay there. I’m coming to get you,” Cyrus instructs, firm yet gentle.

“Thanks, under...underdog.”

Underdog. Cyrus hasn’t heard that nickname in quite a while, and it brings back all sorts of memories. He’s not sure why TJ stopped calling him that. Maybe it’s because it felt childlike to him, and after they started dating it seemed obscure. Cyrus never really thought about it until now, but hearing it again makes him miss it. It also makes him even more anxious to get to TJ.

After hanging up with TJ, Cyrus texts Buffy as fast as possible, hoping that her screwed up sleeping times won’t fail him now. Luckily, she responds almost immediately with an address and a message that says, “take care of him.”

Cyrus yanks on a pair of shoes while simultaneously trying to type in the address to google maps. After finding it, he makes his way downstairs in a hurry, not even bothering to try and be quiet. Of course, this alerts his mother, who leaves her room just as Cyrus is grabbing the keys to his car.

“Cyrus, honey? Where do you think you’re going so late?” she belittles.

“I-I have to go, mom, please,” he begs. “TJ…he’s in trouble, I think, and I’m really worried about him.”

His mother’s eyes soften. She’s always liked TJ, and she knows just how close the two of them are. She cares about him as if he’s one of her own. Finally, she sighs, rubbing her temples with worry.

“Please be careful, Cyrus. If you’re not back in half an hour…” she trails off in warning.

“I will be! We’ll come straight back,” he assures her, because of course he would never leave TJ alone, not in this state.

“Okay then.”

Cyrus thinks that it’s the end of the conversation, but before he can leave, his mother adds, “Keep him safe, Cyrus.”

“I will.”

…

Ten minutes later, Cyrus is at the source of the raging party. The house looks like a complete disaster, even from the outside. Litter is everywhere, mostly plastic cups and food. There’s people passed out on the lawn, and others chatting wildly. Inside, music and lights pulse vibrantly. It’s so loud that Cyrus can here it from inside his car across the street. He can see the shadows of the people partying inside. He gulps, preparing himself to face it, as TJ doesn’t appear to be outside.

The party is even worse indoors. There are so many people crammed into such a tiny, little space. As Cyrus walks through the crowd, people constantly bump into him, not paying any mind as they dance and shout, drinks sloshing in their hands. Cyrus swallows back his anxiety and focuses on finding TJ. He doesn’t see anyone he recognizes, so there’s no way he could ask someone if they’ve seen him. But then he gets lucky.

“–yeah, he’s been in there forever, sounds real upset, too,” someone says in the crowd.

“Is he drunk?” the other person replies.

“Think so, yeah. Never seen him like that on the team before–”

Cyrus assumes it has to be TJ. He doesn’t wait to hear anymore information before he buts into the conversation. “Excuse me, are you talking about TJ Kippen?”

The two boys who were talking glare at him, obviously not too pleased about being eavesdropped on. Still, the first one decides to answer him. “Yeah, he’s been in the bathroom upstairs for a while. Locked himself in.”

Cyrus abruptly leaves, ignoring the shouts at his back. He hurries up the stairs, weaving around everyone as quickly as he can. Finally, he arrives upstairs, and immediately hears TJ’s voice mumbling to himself. He knocks on the door loudly.

“TJ! It’s Cyrus, open up,” he calls out.

“Cy?” TJ says in confusion. It takes a few seconds for him to stand to unlock and open the door, but those few seconds didn’t nearly prepare Cyrus enough.

TJ looked horrible. Bags sit under his red rimmed eyes, hand shaking. An empty cup sits on the counter, but Cyrus assumes based on his state that he’s hand more. His hair is mused, probably from continuously running his hands through it as he often does when he’s nervous.

“Y-You came,” he whispers, practically falling into his arms with relief. Cyrus squeezes him back tightly, overwhelmed with relief that TJ’s ok…at least, okay enough.

“Of course I came,” Cyrus whispers into his ear. “But we got to get you out of here.”

“No…can’t…can’t go home,” he stutters, “My parents…”

“Don’t worry, I’m taking you back to mine.”

With that, TJ finally agrees with a nod. Cyrus leads him down the stairs, holding his hand the whole way to help him maneuver his way through without falling flat on his face. He ignores the stares, making his way straight out the front door with TJ in tow. Although TJ seems aware of what’s going on, he also seems to remain in a sort of daze. Cyrus wonders what could have possibly made him do something so brash like this. Although he knows TJ can be impulsive sometimes, Cyrus would never have expected him to do this.

They make it back to Cyrus’s car in one piece. TJ attempts to do the buckle himself, but his hands shake too much. Cyrus ends up buckling him in. As they start driving, TJ is much quieter than he was before. Maybe it’s the affects of the alcohol wearing off, but he still seems quieter than usual.

“What happened, TJ?” Cyrus asks, unable to hold it back any longer. “Why…why would you drink?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“There has to be a reason, TJ,” he replies. “I just want to help you.”

TJ snaps, “You can’t help!” Suddenly, he softens. The hum of the car separates his words. “You can’t bring her back.”

His words register to Cyrus all at once. He remembers how TJ had been feeling a bit down because he couldn’t visit his grandmother this weekend, but he had no idea why he was so upset about it. She must have been sick. She must have died. The woman that TJ was so close to.

“Oh, Teej,” Cyrus whispers. They feel so far apart suddenly, even though they’re just separated by the station between the car seats. Cyrus reaches his hand over until he find’s TJ’s fingers to intertwine with his own. “I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” he whispers, sniffling again. “I-I didn’t mean to…”

“I know. I know how hard it is,” Cyrus winces, “but you know that alcohol wasn’t the right option.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Are you mad at me?”

Cyrus bites his lip. He doesn’t know how to feel. He’s upset that TJ’s upset, but he’s also upset that TJ resorted to something so drastic instead of talking with someone. But, he understands how deep the ache in TJ must be right now. He understands perfectly well how it feels like that ache will never go away. Maybe TJ was being stupid, but he can’t stay mad at him.

“No, TJ. I wish you wouldn’t have done this, but you called me, and that’s all that matters.”

“I’m sorry.”

TJ seems to be apologizing a lot. It’s strange to hear those words coming from his mouth so often, especially considering their first encounter at the swing. Cyrus remembers how he never really could apologize, and he even struggled with it later. Now, though, it seems like it’s all he can do. Cyrus wonders how long he’s been bottling all of this up for.

By the time they arrive home, Cyrus’s mother is of course still awake. She sits on the sofa, appearing to be reading a book but Cyrus knows she probably is just staring at it. When he comes in the door with TJ, an audible sigh of relief escapes her lips.

“Hi honey,” she says to TJ, obviously aware right away about what’s going on. “You’re welcome to stay here tonight, okay? I set up the mattress in Cyrus’s room.”

“T-thank you,” he whispers. “I…I didn’t…”

“I know, TJ. Just get some sleep.”

Sure enough, an air mattress is already set up in Cyrus’s room. He helps TJ onto it, although TJ seems to already be feeling a bit more aware. There’s a cup of water on his nightstand, and he hands the glass to TJ who drinks it slowly.

“You need to get some rest,” Cyrus repeats from what his mother said.

“Yeah,” TJ agrees softly. “I just…you don’t hate me now, do you Cy?”

“I could never hate you even if I tried, Teej. We’ll talk more in the morning, ok?”

Before Cyrus can make a move to leave, TJ clutches his wrist. “Stay until I fall asleep? Please?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Cyrus settles onto the floor, hand reaching up to run through TJ’s locks. His eyes flutter shut, and he curls in on himself. It only takes a few minutes before he’s fast asleep.

Cyrus sighs, reaching down to take off his shoes carefully without waking him. He then pulls the covers up higher on TJ and makes sure his head is elevated before heading back downstairs to explain to his mom what happened. Before he leaves the room, though, he takes one last look at his boyfriend sleeping peacefully, taking in the fact that he’s safe.

#andi mack #tyrus #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #tyrus fanfic #tyrus fanfiction #tyrus fic #andi mack fanfic #fanfiction #answered #asks #prompts #anonymous #tw drinking #tw alcohol #tw death

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crowned-ladybug · 6 years ago

Text

Shared Heartbeats

Hey look, I wrote a thing!! Took me three days and a Lot of effort bc I kept trailing off every other paragraph, but i got there eventually. I’m proud anyway

(In relation to my posts about how Marvin can read anyone’s vitals via his magic and Jackie eventually finds out)

Characters: Jackie, Marvin

Setting: Rivals AU

Ship: Marvelsepticeye

Word count: 3k

Warnings: none

Jackie stands outside Marvin’s room, waiting a moment or two before he knocks.

He hates confrontation. He hates that there’s a need for confrontation at all. He also hates all the ideas his brain seems to have about how this could go wrong on so many levels. It’s just a stupid little talk. And yet he’s allowing himself to get so worked up about it.

He decides that his anxiety is not getting any more say in the matter, and knocks.

He immediately gets a hum from inside as a response. So he pushes the door open, and tentatively shuffles inside.

Marvin is sitting on his bed, nestled comfortably amongst his piled-up sheets with his back against the wall and a book in his hands. He glances up curiously when he finally hears the door slip shut, and smiles when he realises it’s Jackie. That eases Jackie’s anxiety a bit. At least he knows he’s welcome. (Why wouldn’t he be? Marvin is his boyfriend and he loves him. Stupid anxiety.)

He doesn’t know where to start and how to go about this, though. He just knows that...something is up. Because for the longest time he’d been feeling Marvin doing something magical around him. He doesn’t know what, he’s never seen or felt any effect of it aside from how warm and loving and gentle it is, wrapping around him like a cosy blanket that someone somehow preheated. But he knows it’s magic. Living in a house where everyone else seems to have a bit of magic in them (and him? He just has his dumb powers) and uses that magic in their day to day life has made him sensitive enough to it that he can at least tell when something is happening.

And it’s been happening all right. That warm, comforting feeling, spreading around him and making him feel cosy and safe and maybe a little sleepy. He’s observed it and figured out that it only happens if Marvin touches him – it doesn’t matter if it’s to hug him or lean against him as they stand or just prop his chin on his shoulder for a second to see what he’s doing. It happens, not always but often, and the only criteria seem to be Marvin and physical contact.

Except...it hasn’t been happening recently. Like, at all.

So he has to find out.

“Hey,” he says, voice uncertain, as he shuffles over to the bed and sits down. Where should he even start? ‘Hey, I think I noticed you doing some weird magic that’s probably none of my business, but anyway, why did you stop?’ No. “Can I...ask you something?”

Marvin doesn’t take his eyes off of him as he pushes himself up to sit up straighter and closes his book around his index finger. But his eyes are curious, gentle. Worried, even. “Yeah, of course,” he might not be the best at this whole ‘talking it out’ thing yet, but he’s trying anyway. “Is everything all right?”

“I...I don’t know?” he fumbles with the sheets absently, and he wants to force himself to look at Marvin like a decent adult, but he...can’t. “You’ve been doing this...thing. Magic-”

But Marvin makes a strangled noise, and Jackie finally looks up, his words dying in his throat. Marvin looks startled, and his mouth shapes his words silently for a moment before his voice catches up again. “What...what do you mean magic? How can you...tell?”

Despite himself, Jackie laughs, a tiny, disbelieving laugh. “Dude, I live with a bunch of magic users. I live with you,” he shakes his head, his smile still there after his laugh. “Of course I can tell when there’s magic going on,” he expects that to be sufficient, but Marvin still looks just as surprised and confused as before. Jackie sighs. “Look, I...I don’t know how to describe it, okay? It’s...I just noticed you’ve been doing it, well, until you...weren’t any more. And I know you’d only do it when we touch, and not always, but...I noticed. It’s,” he shakes his head, trying to put it into words, but he’s no poet. He’s never been good at gracefully putting feelings into words and then saying them out loud too. “It’s warm. Kinda like a hug, but also like a hot shower, I guess? It’s nice and cosy and...safe. It’s...nice,” he shrugs clumsily at the end, and his eyes wander back up to Marvin’s face. Huh. He doesn’t remember looking away.

The silence stretches as Marvin takes his time to answer. He stares off into a random spot in his room, the book in his lap completely forgotten, and Jackie’s eyes wander away too. They sit like that for a while.

“I had a guess you noticed.”

Jackie jumps at the sudden words. He turns to look at Marvin again, but finds him still staring into nothing. “You...did?”

“Yeah, you...” Marvin starts, but then he groans and buries his face in his hands. Jackie isn’t sure if he’s frustrated or flustered or...what? “You started reacting whenever I did it, I didn’t know if you consciously realised or not, just that...you knew. And so I stopped, because I realised I shouldn’t have been doing magic shit involving you without your consent in the first place and it was very shitty of me!”

Jackie watches him silently for a bit, thinking of what to say, until a fond, soft smile slowly starts to spread on his lips. “And your solution to that was just to stop?” he asks, voice quiet, and Marvin slowly turns to look at him again. He looks genuinely ashamed of himself. “Not to talk to me about it or ask if you could now?”

“Well,” Marvin shrugs, and it’s uncharacteristically clumsy and meek for him. He looks away at a random spot again, then down at the sheets. “Yeah. I felt bad about it.”

“It’s okay.”

Marvin’s head snaps to look at him again at that, his hair flying everywhere with the sudden movement, and it looks so far from any sort of cheesy shampoo commercial that Jackie almost bursts out laughing. The corner of his mouth twitches anyway, despite his best efforts.

“I said that it’s okay. I’m not mad at you for it, I’m not gonna give you shit for it, just...we should talk about stuff,” his hands start fumbling with the sheets again, but this time he manages to keep his eyes on Marvin. Yay, progress! “When there’s something going on, we should talk about it,” he watches as Marvin nods slowly, eyes trailing away again, a guilty expression still on his face. “But I should have made you feel like you could talk to me about it. So it’s my fault too.”

With that, Marvin is officially lost for words. Guilt and regrets and shame he expected. Anger he dreaded. But apologies? Admitting that ‘yeah, we’re not good at this yet, but that means we both gotta work on it’? That he didn’t.

It takes him a bit to find his words, but Jackie waits patiently. Fuck, they’re both so bad at talking, but...but at least they’re being bad at it together. They’re trying.

“I...” he starts, then shakes his head and tries again. “Thanks.”

He hears Jackie hum quietly in response, and when he looks at him again, he can see him smiling. He smiles back.

“So...” Jackie is the one to break the silence that probably stretches too long, and probably should be awkward but somehow isn’t. The sheets rustle as Marvin adjusts himself so that his back is against the wall again, comfortable. “What is that...magic thing you do?”

Marvin sighs, and it feels heavy in his chest, and he lets his head fall back against the wall. “It’s...a story. But I guess you wanna hear it anyway?” he opens one eye to glance sideways at Jackie, then closes it again when he sees him nod. “All right.

“Remember when we fought Anti’s bullshit buddies in that big abandoned building? And then you got knocked out? I mean, of course you remember, but...yeah,” he forces himself not to look at Jackie and lose his train of thought, so he’s glad when he gets a clear hum in response, telling him to continue. “I freaked out...a lot, when you weren’t waking up. I never told you all of it, but...it was shit. I didn’t wanna leave you and I was always scared, and...I cried a lot. Like, a lot. It was probably really gross, be glad you weren’t awake for that.

“But...I was just too scared to leave you. You almost...you almost died! So I wouldn’t leave and Henrik couldn’t make me leave, and if I had to leave someone else had to be watching you because I was scared to leave you alone,” he didn’t want to say this much, he didn’t want to share all his stupid, shameful clinginess and gross breakdowns, but the words are tumbling out on their own, and he’s powerless to stop them. He still doesn’t look at Jackie. “It felt like the moment I would look away from you, you’d be...gone. So I just stared at you, creepy, I know...but I had to keep making sure you were breathing. I had to.

“But staring all the time was tiring and kinda really boring too, so...I didn’t learn it from anywhere or anything, but I figured out that if I just...touch you,” he kinda wants to reach out and hold Jackie’s hand now too, but doesn’t. He doesn’t know how Jackie feels about all of this yet, learning the truth. It might be weird. “If I just touched you, I could...I could use my magic to feel your heart beating and your breathing and...I could feel that you were alive, without looking.

“So I kept...doing that. I kept sitting in a way that allowed me to be touching you, even just a bit, all the time. So I could know that nothing bad happened to you, but I could still, you know, read stuff or play games or something. And it’d be like...in the back of my mind,” he shrugs, eyes still stubbornly shut, head still against the wall. Just a little more to tell now, he tells himself. “And...I didn’t really stop. Because turns out...it helps. When I’m feeling shitty, y’know, anxious or sad or whatever...if I do that and just...listen, for a bit...it helps. It calms me. It’s nice to feel that you’re...there,” finally, he pushes his head away from the wall and opens his eyes. But he doesn’t look at Jackie yet. “But it was a shit thing of me to do, without asking your permission first.”

And then he finally turns towards Jackie again, trying to ready himself for whatever reaction this is gonna bring, because he knows full well that he fucked up. But Jackie’s expression is unreadable, or at least very hard to read. He looks shocked and like he’s still trying to catch up and process all that he’s just been told, and he’s...blushing, a bit? Yeah. He blushes super easily.

“I...wow,” he shakes his head, and then finally, he smiles. (He smiles! Marvin can feel his heart doing flips in his chest.) “That sure was a whole lot of words, huh?”

“Look, please don’t fuck with me! Not now,” Marvin whines, and does he sound desperate? Absolutely. His nerves are not made for this. “Just tell me if you’re mad or not. Please?”

Jackie’s smile widens, but it remains soft, loving even, and Marvin has to forcefully steer his train of thought back to the conversation. “I’m not mad. Promise,” he laughs at Marvin’s almost too dramatic relieved expression. “I’m touched, honestly. I...don’t know how to put it into words so that it doesn’t sound like shit? But you being scared to lose me is...a nice feeling, I think. Even if it hurt you, so uhh...sorry, actually, that’s also a shit way of putting it,” he laughs again and shakes his head, and he decides not to try again. Marvin’s smiling with him now, a lot less tense than just moments ago. He knows he gets it.

There’s a few seconds of silence, because Marvin doesn’t feel like he has anything to say and Jackie is thinking. How does he say all that’s on his mind without sounding weird? Or maybe it doesn’t matter if it’s weird. Everything they’d said in this whole conversation was weird anyway, right? At least they’re saying it. And it’s not like they mind.

“And...it’s cool with me if you keep doing it,” he says finally, and from the way Marvin’s eyes widen, he guesses that’s not the response he was expecting. “Look, I wouldn’t mind it either way, but knowing that it helps you...I’m definitely all for it. Plus, as I said, it’s like a magical hug. It feels nice,” he shrugs sheepishly. He still doesn’t know how to describe things he’s not even sure how he can sense in the first place. “So when it comes to me, you can do it whenever you want. Blanket permission.”

Marvin has to keep himself from completely gracelessly punching the air in his joy. But he still feels giddy, and maybe a little light-headed from all the nervousness finally ebbing away completely.

“You know,” he chuckles, leaning to the side until he can rest his head on Jackie’s shoulder, because now he feels it’s finally an appropriate thing to do. Jackie wiggles himself into a more comfortable position, which makes Marvin laugh, and his head comes to rest on top of his. “When I pictured this conversation in my head, it was a lot scarier and a lot less...dorky,” he says, and he can hear Jackie mumble something about how ‘that’s a mood’. He stays silent for a moment longer, because there’s something much more meaningful to be said here, but he doesn’t have the words for it. In the end he just settles for “Thank you.”

Jackie walks into the living room with the intent of settling comfortably on the couch and, well, mostly doing nothing but staring at his phone. He could do that in his room too, sure, but the living room is the social hub of the house, and he wants to be where the people are. Wanting to be alone is not his default setting.

His plans appear foiled though, because he finds the entirety of the couch taken up by his very long and equally stubborn boyfriend. Marvin notices his arrival and gives him a smug look that reads like a challenge - ‘you either find somewhere else to get comfy, or you get comfy with me’. Either option is a win for him.

Jackie sighs, as dramatic as it gets, as he walks over to the couch and sits down on the edge of it. “You lazy broomstick. Move your ass,” he starts, but it’s ineffective as expected – Marvin’s grin only gets wider. Smug bastard. “I wanna sit!”

“I’m not stopping you,” Marvin shrugs, but then very quickly realises that that could also lead to Jackie sitting on him just to spite him, and so he adds, hurriedly: “From sitting somewhere else!”

Jackie whines. He had hoped Marvin wouldn’t notice the opening he’d left with the first part of his sentence. “But I want this couch!”

“That’s rough, buddy.”

“You’re such an ass!” Jackie whines again, but then he laughs, snorting, as he gently shoves Marvin by the shoulder again and again. It achieves nothing, of course, besides Marvin making some funny noises every time he does it. “You took the best spot! The whole thing! You absolute walnut!”

Marvin tries to talk, but his first attempt is not at all dignified enough, with small huffs of laughter mixing in with his words. He tries again, trying to keep his cool better this time. His success is not exactly of spectacular volumes. “I guess you’ll just have to share it with me then!”

“Oh, what a tragedy,” Jackie sighs, placing his hand over his heart briefly for the dramatic effect, before he adjusts his position and then stretches out over the whole length of the couch. It takes a little manoeuvring, because the couch is, well, couch-sized, and they’re two grown men trying to fit on it, but in the end he manages to nestle himself into a nice spot under Marvin’s arm and with his head on his chest, in a spot that’s only a little bit too hard and pointy.

He just about presses the home button on his phone, now that he’s settled and cosy, when he can feel that familiar feeling again – warmth wrapping around him and seeping underneath his skin, somehow loving and gentle even though it’s just warm, and this time he knows what it means. He pulls his shoulders up and smiles, and he closes his eyes for a moment. He enjoys it.

But then he has an idea and he puts his phone down, and he aims for it to stay on Marvin, but it slips down his side and against the back of the couch, and he can feel Marvin huff a laugh at that. He decides that he’ll have time to fish it back out later (and deliberately tickle Marvin a bunch in the process).

So he puts his now free hand above Marvin’s heart, because even if he doesn’t have magic, he can feel it beating under there, with its own little rhythm. Marvin’s breath hitches, and for a moment Jackie expects him to say something – a comment on how he knows exactly what he’s doing and why (because he obviously does) or something joking about ‘leave the boob alone’. But nothing comes, aside from Marvin’s arm around him tightening just the smallest bit.

Jackie smiles, and he closes his eyes again.

#marvelsepticeye #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #fanfiction #writing #rivals au #here i go with my shitty titles again #writing is. hard rn. but i tried #sometimes i just really need a bit of known asshole rivals!marvin being soft and having feelings #.........i wrote another fic today after fr went down and that one was easier. that one is soft too

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spacs · 7 years ago

Text

don’t make me wonder

Archive of Our Own Link

Chapter Two Rating: Mature Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandoms: Final Fantasy XV Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia Language: English

Summary: Dinner had been nice, right?... just not...

Notes: @ignoctweek for Day 8 - Free!

Dinner had been nice. They’d gone to a quaint Thai restaurant down the street from Noct’s apartment building, a place that was quiet and the food was delicious. Noctis sat on the side facing the door and Ignis sat across from him and they’d spent the evening chatting and eating. It was nice.

No. No it hadn’t been.

It had been awkward. Almost unbearably awkward. And it had left Noctis so sullen that he was practically dragging his feet behind him as they approached his door. For a moment he was left confused as Ignis let himself inside – did he really want this night to continue because Noct was ready to curl up under his bedsheets and try to forget what a fluke this turned out to be and attempt to convince himself that their friendship hadn’t been ruined. But he quickly realized that Ignis was just collecting his clothes from earlier and grabbing his briefcase.

Disappointed, Noct leaned against the wall by the door, pushing it closed with his ankle. Should he apologize? He should apologize right? For putting Ignis on the spot like this and pulling him out to eat and pretend as if he’d be romantically – god forbid physically – attracted to Noctis. Or should he just pretend this was just like a regular night and Ignis was leaving, just like normal, and they’d see each other the next morning only not in bed together? Oh that was a nice thought. Waking up next to a sleepy Ignis, now disheveled in a completely different manner and maybe he’d be walking funny.

Stop. Noctis shook the thought away. He’d have to get over his attraction to Ignis now. They knew that this doesn’t work. Maybe Noctis confused lust with something deeper. Ignis was hot, and maybe that’s what had him convinced that he could maybe, possibly feel a different thing that extended beyond his good looks and their close friendship.

“I believe that’s everything,” Ignis interrupted his thoughts, taking strides down the hallway.

Noct uncrossed his arms and pushed himself up from the wall. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Well…” He looked around, not quite sure what to say. Was now when he should apologize or should he save that for the morning when the awkwardness wasn’t so fresh?

“Well…” Ignis repeated, a smile in his voice. He quirked an eyebrow at the younger man. “Something wrong, Noct?”

He shook his head, avoiding eye contact. He could feel words building up in the back of his throat but he clamped down on his lips to keep them from spilling out.

“Are you certain?”

“I just—” he blurted and then shut his mouth again. Noctis looked up at the older man and huffed through his nose and continued, “I just thought it would be different.”

“How so?”

Noct threw his arms up in the air. “I don’t know. Maybe I built it up too much in my head,” he admitted. “Maybe Prom has taken me to one too many romantic comedies or I read one too many sentences in one of Gladio’s books. I just thought it would be…” He paused, searching for the right word. “More… awesome? Awesomer? That’s not a word.” He should just curl up under a rock and die.

Frustrated, he ran a hand down his face and groaned. “I wasn’t thinking about… I should’ve realized…” His brain wouldn’t settle on the right phrase. “It was weird. Right? Wasn’t it weird for you? I felt weird almost the whole time. Because… y’know, you’re Ignis. You’re you and we’ve known each other for so long and—” Realization dawned over him and his eyes blew wide. “Oh god I’m kind of your boss – although I feel like you take care of me more than I… oh god. I can’t believe I didn’t think about that. Did you agree to this because you thought I would get mad if you said no?” Then he changed gears. “Or because we’ve been friends for so long you wanted to let me down easily and just a flat no would’ve been too harsh?” His mind was flailing, and he looked at Ignis in disbelief, at himself not the man in front of him. “Because Ignis you can tell me. You’re not ever going to be fired – I literally think I would die without you – and we’ve been friends for so long I would rather you be honest with me.” He pushed both of his hands through his hair, pulling slightly harder than necessary but he deserved it for how stupid he was.

“I’ve just liked you for… I don’t know a while? You don’t need to know how long that would be… I just have and Prompto finally convinced me to do something about it.” He pushed his fingers against his forehead and shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Specs. I should have thought this through, I should’ve—I don’t know. It was so awkward and I think I might’ve talked about the weather at some point like some kind of idiot who hasn’t known you for almost our whole lives.”

Noct dropped his hands to his sides and looked at Ignis desperately. “I can’t believe… I’m just… I’m sorry.”

Ignis regarded him for a moment, with an expression that Noct couldn’t read. His briefcase was by his leg and his dirty clothing was in a bag next to it. Carefully, his assistant folded his hands behind his back, glancing down at the space between them before looking back up to connect their eyes.

“You’re right.”

Noctis could confidently say that he had been absolutely zero percent compared for that. He deflated, curling in on himself slightly. He should have been just a little more prepared – he had asked directly, and Ignis was always truthful when asked a direct question.

“Yeah…” he nodded, trying to keep his bitter disappointment from his tone but definitely failed. “Well I guess… see you tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Ignis agreed, dignified as always. “Thank you for a very wonderful evening, Noct.” The assistant leaned forward into his formal bow – that somehow looked normal and sexy when he did it, unlike the disaster from earlier – and Noctis made a noise of acknowledgement in the back of his throat.

“You’re welcome I gue—”

As Ignis straightened, he leaned forward and interrupted Noctis with a kiss. It took the younger man so off guard and he almost bit Ignis’ lip. Their mouths had missed just a bit off center and Ignis was at an incredibly awkward angle since Noct had his head down in disappointment. His back was practically planked so that he could sweep up into the kiss.

Finally, Noct’s brain caught up with the moment and he planted his hands on Ignis’ shoulders and pulled him in. This made Ignis have to stand up as he stepped into Noctis’ space and readjusted so their mouths were aligned. The older man put his leg between Noct’s and pushed him back just slightly so he leaned against the wall. Noctis twisted his hands in the hair at the nape of Ignis’ neck as he started to pull back a bit; that caused Ignis to lean back in for a chaste, lingering kiss that – despite the cliché – was teeming with promise.

“I, too, wanted it to be awesome.”

Noctis opened his eyes slowly, unsure of when exactly he’d closed them. He looked up dreamily at Ignis who was attempting to suppress a smirk. Then he became aware of the situation and leaned back into the wall, smacking Ignis’ chest with both of his hands. “You jerk,” he accused.

At that, Ignis tossed his head back and laughed openly. Noct’s chest felt suddenly very full and he couldn’t help the smile that fought its way onto his lips while he tried to maintain his rightful, yet half-assed, indignation. “Apologies,” he managed through his laughter.

“You let me go on and on but you… you!”

Ignis attempted to stifle his laughter and looked back down at Noct, brushing his fingers across the younger man’s curiously pink-tinged cheeks. “I am sorry,” he reassured. “You’re just… you are very cute when you’re flustered.”

Noct sputtered at that, now just outright blushing and looked away from Ignis. He leaned his head forward and hid his red cheeks against Ignis’ chest. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, clutching his hands into the other man’s shirt.

Arms wrapped around him and Ignis was dipping his head down to kiss Noct’s head, leaning awkwardly around to kiss the top of his ear. “Oh come now,” he murmured against the skin. Stubbornly, Noct didn’t move. “Come back up here,” Ignis requested. “I’d very much like to kiss you again.”

“You don’t deserve it,” Noct retorted.

A chuckle shook Ignis’ chest and hands trailed down teasingly over his sides. “I agreed to this date because I like you, Noct. That your, technically, my superior has nothing to do with it.” Fingers toyed with the fabric of Noct’s shirt as Ignis nosed into his hair sweetly. “It would be a lie to say our friendship was not a consideration, however it is because of just that that I developed feelings for you. I’ve no regrets for agreeing. Though if you do, I certainly would not begrudge your caution.”

Noct picked his head up and peered at Ignis through his bangs. “You didn’t think it was awkward?”

“First dates are always a bit strange, Noct,” Ignis told him, reaching up to brush the hair away.

Cocking an eyebrow, Noct asked, “And how many first dates have you been on?”

Ignis smirked and leaned forward, ghosting his lips over Noct’s. “Clearly none that mattered.”

Unable to resist that, he pressed their mouths together again. He pushed his tongue into Ignis’ mouth and their teeth clacked together clumsily. Noct readjusted and instead brought Ignis’ bottom lip between his teeth and he felt the older man huff slightly, pushing their chests together. Oh yeah okay that was nice.

His hands switched to Ignis’ shoulders, pulling at the fabric of his shirt when Ignis hands fell over his. “I really should be going, Noct,” he murmured.

“Or… you could stay…” he offered, trailing slow, open mouthed kisses across Ignis’ jaw.

Ignis hummed. “It’s tempting, truly.” But he pulled his head away, stepping back from Noct. “But we do both need to get some rest.”

“Sleep is overrated,” Noct blew him off, moving back into Ignis’ space.

The older man let out a single laugh, wrapping his hands around Noct’s forearms as they slid around his waist. “Oh you are so convincing,” he said, leaning in for a brief kiss. “But it’s time for me to leave for the night, Noct.”

He hummed and leaned in for another kiss. Ignis obliged and soon they were back against the wall, Ignis pushing his leg between Noct’s. An unstifled moan that slipped past the younger man’s lips seemed to be what brought him back, though Noct wanted to think he hesitated to step away. “Fine,” he relented, wrapping fingers into Ignis’ suit jacket lapels.

“I had a lovely evening, Noct,” Ignis told him, trailing fingers up the arms that held him.

“Was it awesome?”

Another laugh – man that really got Noct’s heart racing. “It was awesome,” Ignis confirmed.

“You sure you don’t want to stay?”

“I most certainly do want to stay,” Ignis corrected.

“But you won’t?”

“Correct.”

Sighing, Noct leaned in again and kissed him. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked, dropping Ignis jacket and letting him collect his things.

“Indeed. Bright and early.”

“Wake me up nicely,” he told him.

“Yes sir,” Ignis smirked.

Noct blinked. Okay. He jumped forward and pressed his lips to Ignis’ again, catching him off guard with the bags in his hands. A muffled mmf noise came from Ignis’ throat but god he really shouldn’t be so surprised when he has a voice like that that says things like that. “Yeah you’re… going to have to be careful,” Noct panted.

Ignis chuckled and leaned his forehead to Noct’s. “Well that’s certainly less vanilla than I expected.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s really too early to be discussing what you want me to call you in bed, Noct,” Ignis chuckled.

“Wouldn’t have to be if you’d just stay,” Noctis countered.

Carefully, Ignis detached himself. “Goodnight, Noct,” he smirked, leaning forward to press his lips once more to Noct’s, and nothing but his lips. He pulled away when the younger man reached out for him. “I will see you in the morning.”

Dazed, Noct let Ignis depart, the door clicking closed behind him. He stared at the panel blankly, his mind processing what exactly had just happened.

Then he started to giggle. Which felt strange bubbling up from his throat like this. Still, he couldn’t stop, and he just let the absolute giddiness overtake him. He leaned against the door for support and covered his face with his hands, feeling his heated cheeks.

So he went on a date with Ignis… and it had been… nice. Really nice.

#ignoctweek #ignoct #otp #final fantasy #ffxv #ff: ffxv #p: my writing #i thought another part of this would be a good way to round out the week #i'm so proud of myself! i got at least one thing written for every day!#a lot of it was short and i got REALLY burnt out #i'm exhausted #it's been a long week at work and i've been writing so much #but it's been a great week and i'm honestly super sad that it's over #but ALSO now i get to read everything that i missed #so i'll be in the AO3 tag a lot the new few days lol #if anyone actually reads my tags and has anything either YOU wrote or something you read and loved please send me a link #and i'll read it first!#for now i'm going to go crash because i've slept about four hours a night for the past four days SO #good night all!#happy ignoct week! what a great week it was!

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youreverycolor · 8 years ago

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Perception - Ch. 18: Stranger Than Fiction

A/N: Oh. My. God. I keep apologizing for the delay between chapters, but between losing my job, starting a new one, studying for the bar exam, and life in general, it was hard to write this one. To make up for it, I’m giving you almost 10,000 words. I really struggled with this chapter sometimes, because I’m dealing almost exclusively with everyone BUT Rafael, and he’s the most fun to write. But this chapter advances the plot in a major way, including - GASP - Lauren’s shocking secret. I hope you guys enjoy!

Song: Some People Change by Kenny Chesney

Nora flung open the door and glared at Eli as he pushed past her, uninvited, into the apartment. He was wearing the same suit he’d worn the day before, sans tie, and judging by his bloodshot eyes, he hadn’t slept.

“For the love of God, Eli, it is 6:00 a.m. on a Saturday. What the hell could you possibly-”

“THIS!” He slapped a large manila envelope onto the counter. “THIS is why you’re awake right now. THIS is what I stayed up all night reading. THIS is what we have to deal with now!” She stared at the envelope, nothing immediately registering.

“I’m not in the mood for guessing games, Eli, so why don’t you just tell me what THIS is?” She flipped on the switch on the coffee maker, silently thanking God that she’d prepared it the night before.

“THIS is the email you sent me from the investigator last Monday! You know, the one you didn’t comment on, mark as urgent, OR tell me about!” At that, Nora stopped what she was doing.

Shit, she thought. I forgot all about that. She had gotten distracted before she could review the email’s contents in detail, and had only barely managed to forward it to him in the meantime. It was her screw-up, and she knew it. But she knew that the best way to get Eli past his anger was to get him to focus on the solution. “I’m sorry, Eli. I dropped the ball. So what do you need me to do?”

He gestured toward the stack. “Sit. Read. Respond.” The coffee already filled the air, and she desperately wanted a cup before she dove into this, but she wasn’t in a bargaining position. So, she sat down, rubbed her still-sleepy eyes, and began to read.

It took her a good forty-five minutes to wade through all the details in the report - and there were MANY. Some were mundane, like college transcripts, parking tickets, various versions of her resume. But when she’d finished, she was absolutely dumbfounded. For once, she felt Eli’s panic was justified.

“Now do you get it? Do you understand?” She noticed the vein in his forehead that always pulsed when he got worried. It troubled her every time, because she was sure one day it might actually burst.

“So,” she said, “what do we do?” She tentatively stood up and ventured toward the coffee maker.

“We have several things we are going to do,” he replied, still visibly angry but a little less terrifying.

“Such as?”

“For starters, we’re going to wake Marissa up.”

“Eli, she-”

“MARISSA!” He bellowed. “Get out here!” He started down the hallway, but Nora placed a hand on his arm.

“Eli! She’s not here.”

He looked down at her hand and then at her, eyes burning. “What do you mean she’s not here?”

“I mean what I said. She isn’t here.” She looked both smug AND uncomfortable somehow, and Eli wanted to shake her off.

“It’s seven in the morning on a Saturday,” he said, growing more confused and irritated by the minute. “Where is she?”

“She's… at Sonny’s.”

The fire died from his eyes and he stared at her blankly, as though she wasn’t even there. He blinked a number of times. She wasn’t quite certain what to say, but she was trying very hard not to smile.

“I… what?” He finally sputtered.

She allowed the smile this time, but tried to couch it in empathy.

“She went to stay at Sonny’s place last night,” she said. When he didn’t reply, she continued. “Eli, it’s completely normal.”

“Like hell it is! She’s a child, and he’s-”

“Okay, first, she’s not a child. She’s a grown-ass woman, and he’s a perfectly nice lawyer.”

“Oh, stop that, just because he’s a lawyer and we’re Jewish-”

She snapped at him this time, something she very rarely did. “YOU stop it. You know that’s not what I meant. And you know I’m right.” The silence between them was hot, stifling. He looked at his arm. Her hand was still there. She seemed to realize it at the same time, and pulled back. Then, she softened her voice. “Eli, she just started speaking to you again. Do you really want to die on this hill?”

He sighed, defeated. “I just don’t trust him. He’s the idiot who posted that video, and I think if she’s going to insist on dating someone-” He watched her shake her head and chuckle. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, I just can’t believe this,” she replied. “We have this absolutely enormous crisis in the campaign, and you’ve been sidetracked by your daughter’s boyfriend.”

That seemed to snap something in his brain. “Right,” he said. “Yes. So. What we need is either for Marissa to talk to Rafael or for Lauren to talk to me.”

“And how would either of those things ever happen? Lauren doesn’t even know you - and what little she knows makes you look like the lunatic you are - and Marissa isn’t going to talk to her boss about his girlfriend.”

“He won’t listen to me,” he said. “He’ll just get pissed and dig his heels in.”

“So you’d rather put Marissa in that situation?” She realized the coffee had finished brewing and poured two cups, shoving one toward him. To her surprise, he actually picked it up, though he didn’t stop pacing and flailing his other arm. Maybe the coffee wasn’t such a good idea after all, she thought.

“No,” he said, “that’s just it. She won’t be in that situation. For whatever reason, she can say the same thing I would and he’ll listen to her.”

“Eli, she isn’t going to do it. She’s already involved enough, and I can tell you, from experience, it is uncomfortable having to bring up anything related to your boss’s dating life.”

“Personal experience?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Need I remind you of Courtney Paige?” She mirrored his face. He looked somewhere between offended and shocked.

“When did you ever-”

“You think I didn’t have to make excuses for the noise coming out of your office?” She drank her coffee casually, but didn’t quite make eye contact.

He remembered that day and how embarrassed he had been by Nora’s stare when he and Courtney had emerged from his office, damp and dizzy. But it hadn’t occurred to him at the time that Nora might also have been embarrassed.

“Well,” he said, wanting to move away from the topic, “what do you think we should do then?”

She was almost unprepared for the question. It wasn’t like him to ask the opinion of others in a damage control situation. She proceeded with caution. “I think… I think your second suggestion is the more reasonable. Someone ought to go directly to Lauren.”

He walked into the living room, mug in hand, mulling over the idea. “Interesting. Do you think she might talk to you?”

“Me? Why me?” That hadn’t been her intention.

“Don’t you think this would be better coming from you?”

“Oh? You mean like when you wanted me to ask the intern if she was wearing panties?” She shook her head. “Not happening, Eli.”

“Well, SOMEONE has to do it. And as you said, she already hates me. She won’t take it well.”

“She’s not going to take it well either way,” she sighed. “What’s your ultimate goal here?”

He groaned and sat down on the couch. “What I’d LIKE and what I can GET are two different things.”

“Usually,” she replied, and sat down next to him.

“So what I’d LIKE doesn’t matter,” he said.

“Plan B, then,” she offered.

“Plan B is to get her to come clean and let me manage this as best we can.”

“So just reason with her. She obviously cares about Rafael. She won’t want to hurt him.” Her face didn’t quite match her words.

“What are you REALLY thinking?”

“I’m thinking that your coffee is cold and I need a shower,” she said. “When you figure out what you want to do, let me know.”

As she left the room, the realization that he had no idea how to handle this hit him. He thought he had seen it all. He’d dealt with lovers, call girls, all manner of sexual and romantic secrets. But not once in all his years of professional politics and crisis management had he seen anything this outrageous, complicated, and potentially campaign-ending.

“Good morning,” Sonny said, lifting his head slightly. Marissa was curled against him, almost halfway off the couch, but for Sonny’s arm around her waist holding her in place.

“Morning,” she replied, not even opening her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten,” he said, although he was barely able to see his watch through the sleep in his eyes. “Shoulda been at work half an hour ago.”

“Well, then you should probably-” He squeezed her, making no motion to get up.

“Already texted Liv. Called in sick.” He let out a very fake cough.

“Well, then, maybe I should be the one to go,” she said with a smile. “I wouldn’t want to catch it.”

“Too bad. Gonna guess you already caught it.” He grinned as she clumsily turned to face him.

“Damn.” He leaned forward, awkwardly craning his neck, and gave her a whisper of a kiss. Just as it had the night before, his touch left her skin tingling. “I need breakfast.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “If you’re gonna be sick, better keep up your strength. And as it turns out, breakfast is the one meal I can make.” He stretched and lifted himself off the couch - not an easy endeavor - and eased himself slowly upright. She sat up, rubbing her shoulder where she felt the telltale crick of a night on the couch, and tried in vain to smooth her unruly curls.

“You okay?” He clanged pots in the cupboard and finally retrieved the one frying pan he owned.

“Yeah, just a little stiff. I’m getting old.”

“If you’re old, I’m dead.” She heard eggs crack.

“What’s for breakfast?”

“Scrambled eggs?”

“Sounds more like a question,” she said, making her way to his tiny kitchen - even smaller than hers - and watched him whisking the eggs in a bowl.

“Less a question, more a hope. I can make scrambled eggs because it’s what happens when I try to make anything else. But hey, when I said I can make breakfast, I wasn’t lying.”

Sonny may have been cocky about his abilities as a cop, and even as a lawyer, but with Marissa, he was always just slightly awkward and unsure. It was what endeared him to her. She even suspected that if she hadn’t made the first move, they never would have gotten here. He was a gentleman, sometimes to a fault.

“Scrambled eggs sound great,” she said. She leaned across the counter to watch him. “It’s more than my dad can make, and he’s been a bachelor way longer than you. Can there be coffee with the eggs?”

He motioned to his left, where Marissa saw a Keurig and a spinner with all kinds of pods.

“I get bored,” he said, noticing her raised eyebrow. “And it’s just me - well, usually.”

“You’re a cop AND a lawyer. I would think you’d drink it by the gallon. I’ve considered investing in an IV drip for Mr. Barba.” She perused the spinner and decided on a plain dark roast, which she had grown accustomed to from the office. Once upon a time, she had liked sweet, flavored roasts. These days, bitterness tasted better.

“You know you’re the only person who calls him that,” Sonny said, flipping the eggs over in the pan. “Everyone else just calls him Barba.”

“Yeah, but everyone else doesn’t work for him.”

“Hey, speaking of Barba,” he said, emphasizing the lack of title on the name, “how’s the campaign?”

“It's… weird. I haven’t really been working on it much.”

“You’re talking to your dad again, though, right?” He scraped the eggs onto two plates, grabbed the orange juice from the fridge, and set everything on the breakfast bar.

“Yeah,” she said. “I mean, he never really apologized, but that’s par for the course. I just don’t have the energy to be angry at people these days.”

They sat down across from each other, and Marissa could smell some sort of spice radiating from her plate. “What’d you put in these?”

“Secret,” he said. “Can’t just eat plain eggs every day. Like I said, I get bored. And you’re trying to change the subject.”

“So let me,” she said. “The eggs are good.”

“Thanks. So he didn’t apologize?”

Marissa knew Sonny well enough to know he didn’t let things go. Part of the detective in him, she suspected. So, she hedged.

“I offered him pie.”

At this, Sonny looked up from his already-half-empty plate. “You made him a pie?”

“No,” she corrected. “I made a pie, then offered to share.”

“Marissa…”

“Sonny, please,” she pleaded. “Just let it go.”

The night Eli had stormed out of the Hanukkah party was rough, and Sonny had borne the brunt of it. Marissa had disappeared into her bedroom after he’d left, and wouldn’t even let Nora in to talk to her. Sonny traded on his negotiating skills and managed to get her to go for a walk with him. She didn’t say much, but she held his hand and let him ramble about his law school days, the latest case at the department, his nieces. She liked the sound of his voice on any given day, but especially that night because it drowned out the sound of her father’s voice in her head. She had kissed him for the first time that night, slowly and carefully, almost so he knew she was considering her actions and not just acting on emotion.

“So, are you thinking we should finish the movie we slept through last night?” This was among the myriad reasons she liked him so much. He didn’t just listen; he actually heard her. She shrugged.

“We could,” she said, “but that’s going to require me to brush my teeth and shower. I refuse to be disgusting, even if we are just lying on the couch.”

“You wanna shower here? I got Aveda - I can’t use Old Spice or Axe or whatever crap they try to sell guys my age-” He started to get up, but she shook her head and he stayed in his seat.

“I need creature comforts. Give me a couple hours. I’ll run home, grab a quick shower and a change of clothes, and be back. Besides, I don’t have a toothbrush here… yet.” She smirked and gulped down the last of her coffee, brushing past him to grab her purse and coat from the rack near the door. He stopped her, extending his arm to catch her at the waist. “I said just give me a couple hours. Then, I’m all yours.”

He smiled up at her, only just noticing the way her grin made her cheeks even rounder and softer and her nose crinkle slightly.

Ditto, he thought.

Of all the sights Marissa never would have expected coming home to on a Saturday morning, first among them would have to be Eli and Nora sitting together on the couch so close together that if one of them turned their head, they might collide. At the sound of the door, it almost happened, as Eli’s head snapped up. Nora started to say something, but he was already charging toward Marissa.

“Where have you been?” He demanded.

“Why, good morning, father, it’s good to see you, too. Would you like me to get you that pie now?” Her voice was syrupy. Nora raised an eyebrow.

“Wasn’t that Sonny’s-”

“He doesn’t like key lime,” Marissa shot back, slightly defensively.

“Not now,” Eli said. “Anyway, we need your help.”

She tossed her coat and scarf on the bench near the door and breezed past him. “Sorry, I have plans today.”

“They’re canceled.”

“Hm, let me think about that.” She paused. “No.”

“That wasn’t a request,” he said, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nora give him a warning look. He bristled momentarily, and then softened his voice. “Look, if you don’t want to do it for me, then at least listen for a second if you care at all about Rafael.”

He used to use a similar tactic on Kalinda, the investigator who worked for Alicia’s first firm. Whenever he needed her to do anything for Peter, he would mention Alicia. Kalinda would inevitably break her “no-Peter” rule. He only hoped it would work on Marissa, too. She was studying him, probably for signs of deception. She tended to be a human lie detector. He had raised her to well in some respects.

“Talk,” she finally said, once again pushing past him. “You have ten minutes.” She sank into a rocking chair across from the couch.

“This may take a little longer than that,” he said, but from seemingly nowhere, Nora stepped in front of him.

“Long story short,” she said, “it involves Lauren.”

“What about her?” It was only then that she noticed the stacks of paper spread on the coffee table around the laptop.

“Well, it seems she isn’t exactly what - who - she said she is,” Nora said. “Or, at the very least, she left out a few key details.”

“What kind of details?”

Eli and Nora glanced at each other uncomfortably. “Well, from what we can tell, it seems that for a number of years, about 1998 until somewhere around 2003, she was…”

“A prostitute and a drug addict,” Eli finished, ripping the bandaid off the sentence. He was surprised at how flatly the words came out, actually. Maybe he’d spent so long panicking that he was all out of emotion. Meanwhile, Marissa simply shook her head.

“That’s not possible. She’s a lawyer. They don’t let hookers become lawyers. There are, like, thirty background checks you have to go through!”

“I’m guessing she told the admissions committee when she applied, but those proceedings would be sealed. No one would know about any sort of arrests unless she was fingerprinted for something. She also didn’t use her real name back then.”

“Well, if that’s the case, how did WE find out?” As if she didn’t already know.

“We hired a private investigator,” Eli replied.

“We had to,” Nora said, seeing the look of partial disgust on Marissa’s face. “You know we had to.”

“Anyway,” Eli continued, “we found out she had a couple of arrests when she was eighteen and twenty, all of which were plead out, she eventually got into rehab for a pretty nasty heroin-slash-cocaine addiction, and got cleaned up around 2005 or so. She managed to keep all this under wraps until now.”

Marissa was still having a hard time accepting all this. Lauren was poised, beautiful, professional, and accomplished. There was no way this could possibly be true. “She has a really common name,” she said shakily. “How do we know-”

Eli, sensing her next question, rifled through the stack of papers and handed her one. It was glossy between her fingers as she turned it over to study it. A black-and-white image of a woman stared back at her. She looked a lot like Lauren, only this woman was younger - although in some ways, she looked older - and she wore much more makeup than Lauren ever did. She also looked tired, strung out; her hair fell in thin, limp pieces around her sallow face, and her eyes were half-closed, as though she might fall asleep as the photo was taken.

She looked exactly like what Eli and Nora were saying Lauren was.

There was no real way to absorb any of this, other than to keep staring at the photo, trying to convince her brain to believe what her eyes were seeing. And then, an entirely new thought came to her, one that made her sick to her stomach: why would Mr. Barba have kept this all from them? They were spending all their time, energy, money on this campaign, and he held this back from them? What the hell was he thinking? What kind of stupid, amaetur move was this? And why wasn’t Eli more angry about it?

“Marissa, we don’t think he knew,” Nora said, and it took a second before Marissa realized she had gotten out of her chair and said all those things aloud. She stared at the two of them; she didn’t think she could contemplate for disbelief.

“What?”

“There’s no way he knew. He wouldn’t hold this back. You know he’s not that stupid.”

“Excuse me, you’re saying a candidate wouldn’t lie to you?” She shot him an incredulous look. “Need I remind you that Peter never told you he was banging his ethics attorney? You had to figure that one out for yourself.”

“Okay, point taken, but-”

“Rafael isn’t Peter,” Nora said. “He isn’t stupid. He’s too pragmatic to have done this, and frankly… we have less reason to trust her than we do him.” Marissa couldn’t believe what she was hearing: Nora was trying to justify this.

“I’m going to call her office and get a meeting scheduled with her next week,” Eli said. “I’m going to talk to her, and if I’m wrong, of course I’ll admit it, but-”

“Yeah, okay,” Marissa snorted. She started down the hallway toward her bedroom.

“-but I don’t think she’s told him, and I’m going to give her the chance to do it.” At that, she whirled around.

“You’re what?” Even Nora looked surprised. Last she knew, Eli’s plan had been to send her, or even to try and get Marissa to do it. Eli glanced away for a second, then nodded curtly.

“Look. If I go right to Rafael, even with all of this evidence, he isn’t going to listen to me. He’ll just dig his heels in and do what all candidates do. He’ll shoot the messenger. So if I give her the chance to tell him herself, either she will, and he’ll end things out of anger or pragmatism, or she won’t, and she’ll just choose to disappear instead.”

Marissa rolled her eyes and continued into her bedroom, where she grabbed her duffel bag and started stuffing clothes into it. Nora followed after her, standing just outside Marissa’s bedroom.

“You forgot an option. What if she already HAS told him?”

“Oh, come on, Marissa, I know I said if I was wrong, I’d admit it, but we all know I’m not wrong!” He slapped a hand to the wall in frustration. “You know she hasn’t told him! Why are you still insisting otherwise?”

“Because I know you, and I know you’re just looking for any reason to go down there and scare her into going away!” The words came out of her mouth with a venom that surprised them all. Eli didn’t react, but Nora knew what damage the words had wreaked in his mind. He would never admit it, but he didn’t want his daughter to think what everyone else thought of him: the worst.

He sighed. “I won’t deny that I’d be thrilled if she just disappeared into the ether,” he said. “But I have a distinct feeling that she is a permanent problem, so I may as well cushion the inevitable blow as best as I can.”

“And,” Nora said, “he’ll handle it best if it comes directly from her.” She watched as Marissa moved between the bathroom, linen closet, and bedroom, shoving toiletries and clothes into her bag. She could tell Marissa was listening, even though she wasn’t making eye contact. Sometimes, her silences spoke volumes.

“So how exactly do you plan to go about this? Just show up in her office and go, ‘Hi Lauren, remember me? I’m the psycho from the Hanukkah party who manages your boyfriend’s campaign, and oh, by the way, did you used to bang people for money and/or drugs?’” She glanced down at the bag. Shampoo. Conditioner. Extra socks. Do I want to pack the condoms now, or wait til Dad leaves?

“Well, I’d probably leave out the psycho part, and I’d have an appointment, but the rest sounds about right.”

“I’ll help him figure out something to say that doesn’t make him SOUND like a complete psycho,” Nora offered. Her dark eyes implored Marissa to trust her, even if she didn’t quite trust her father. The two exchanged a long look, and Marissa finally nodded.

“How am I going to know if you’re lying to me?”

Nora looked to Eli. “I’m pretty sure that’s to you.”

He sighed. “Do you really have so little faith in me?”

“It’s not about faith. It’s about odds.” Another remark that Nora knew cut him, but he shrugged it off.

“Well, how would you like me to prove to you that she hasn’t told him? I can’t prove a negative!”

“You’re right,” she said, slinging the duffel over her shoulder. “I guess you can’t.” Nora’s eyebrows shot up as Marissa walked between the two of them, paying no attention to Eli’s demands for her to return. On any other day, with any other set of circumstances, she might. But she needed time to process everything. Eli and Nora had had all night and morning with all this information. How could they expect her to know what to do with it after just a few minutes?

She couldn’t remember if she’d packed body wash, but she’d be willing to use Sonny’s if it meant she could wash off the entire afternoon, as far away from the campaign as she could get.

In his decade-plus as a political operative, Eli had had all manner of uncomfortable, unnerving, and personal come-to-Jesus moments with candidates, their family members, and, yes, even their mistresses. But in all those years, he couldn’t remember ever having to discuss a candidate’s girlfriend’s history as a sex worker - let alone with the girlfriend herself. Not that he hadn’t dealt with his fair share of prostitute problems - Peter had been his most famous hooker rehab project - but he hadn’t ever had a candidate actually in a relationship with one. He wondered how he had managed to end up as the less gross and more attractive version of the Jason Alexander character in a real-life version of Pretty Woman.

The dull buzz of the law office where Lauren worked left an ache in his ears, although he wasn’t entirely sure whether it was that or the migraine he’d woken up with from the anxiety of the impending confrontation. He was well aware of all the ways in which this conversation could go wrong. It wasn’t as if he had made a spectacular first impression on Lauren when they had first met. She had absolutely no reason to even take this meeting with him. And, even assuming he got past that point, once he got the reason for the meeting across, she would likely either throw him out or throw something at him. Either way, he couldn’t imagine a scenario where this conversation ended in anything other than him being escorted out by security.

“Mr. Gold?” A slight, blonde woman appeared in the lobby carrying a tablet and only half-looking at him. He stood up from the overpriced, uncomfortable sofa. Why did law offices spend all their decorating money on floral decorations no one looked at and none of it on reasonably comfortable places for people to sit?

“Yes,” he said, clearing his throat.

“I’ll take you into Ms. Sullivan’s office now,” she replied, still looking between him and the tablet. “She’s late from a deposition so she asked me to have you wait for her there.”

“No problem.” He suddenly felt like everyone knew the reason he was here, even though that was both impossible and ridiculous. The blonde led him down a long hallway lined with brightly lit offices with glass-paneled doors - sexual harassment prophylaxis, Eli called those kind of offices - until they came to one that looked not unlike Alicia’s when she had worked as his liaison. It wasn’t quite as plush as a partner office, and was sparsely furnished with only a desk, two chairs, and a small bookcase. But it was still filled with plenty of natural sunlight from a large, western-facing window, and hints of personal touches Lauren had added to warm the space.

“You can have a seat here. Lauren will be back in a few minutes. Can I get you some coffee or tea while you wait?” He noticed that the woman was finally actually looking at him, so he simply shook his head and held up his hand. She nodded and closed the door behind her, leaving him to his own thoughts and Lauren’s things. He didn’t really feel like sitting in the silence, though, so he wandered over to the bookcase where he took the opportunity to learn what Lauren chose to display to the world about her life.

There were photos of her and some female friends, her and some children - he assumed friends’ children since she didn’t have any nieces or nephews - and some awards and plaques given by various bar associations, organizations, her employer, and her law school. Nothing really stood out to him until he took stock of what WASN’T there. There were no family photos, no indication that anyone outside her social and professional circle even existed. In fact, Eli’s background check had indicated that Lauren’s mother had died not long after Lauren graduated high school, but she had nothing to indicate the slightest connection to her mother anywhere. In an office containing photos of her friends’ children, he’d have thought a remembrance of her mother would have been an imperative.

Before he could dwell any more on why she wouldn’t want her mother’s memory hanging around, the door swung open and in strode Lauren, purposefully and as though Eli wasn’t even there.

“God, you would think that the only reason I even had to go to that deposition was to give them a warm body in a chair,” she snapped, tossing her briefcase on the desk in frustration. “Didn’t ask one damn question the entire time, but you damn well KNOW they’re going to bill for me. Ridiculous. I could have actually been accomplishing something for the last two hours…”

Eli didn’t quite know how to react, other than to be slightly concerned; this didn’t bode well for how she handled stress. Suddenly, she seemed to realize that there was another person in the room. Her expression changed completely, from anger to embarrassment. “Oh, Eli, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- it’s just been one hell of a day,” she said.

“I can see that,” he replied. “I don’t miss the law.”

“You were a lawyer?” She gestured for him to have a seat across the desk from her. “Rafael never mentioned-”

“Come to think of it, I probably never actually told him,” he said, scrolling through his Rolodex of memories. “It was a short-lived period in my life. Joint MBA/JD type of thing. I didn’t really do well with… well, negotiating, believe it or not.”

“Really? I’d have thought you’d be great at that.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I was great at getting my way with cases. It was just that my approach didn’t really work well with partners.” She laughed, and he cringed. He needed to cut off the friendly banter or he would never accomplish his objective.

“So, what can I do for you, Eli? Surely you don’t need a lawyer, so I assume this has something to do with Rafael.”

He nodded. “Yes, in a way. But actually, it has more to do with you.”

She saw that he was momentarily fiddling with his phone, so she turned toward her computer and started typing. “I hope you don’t mind if I work at the same time as we talk. I’m behind from that deposition today. But I promise, I can multitask with the best of them.”

“Not at all,” he said, tucking his phone back into his coat pocket. “But anyway, I just wanted to talk to you about something that may come up in the next few months. Well, actually, it WILL come up.”

“Well, to be honest, we - Rafael and I - thought this would come up eventually.”

He sat straight up in his chair and was thankful he didn’t get that coffee, because he probably would have spluttered it all over her. Was it possible that Rafael DID know about everything and simply hadn’t told him? No, he thought. He couldn’t possibly be that stupid. He swallowed hard and squinted at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we figured with the gay rumors still floating around - which I honestly don’t understand - instead of forcing Nora to be his date, or risking another scandal with his assistant-”

“-you mean my twenty-four year old daughter-”

“-that you’d probably just want me to step in for a photo op at some point or another.”

Eli would have laughed if the situation hadn’t been so utterly dismal. She was being so casual, he realized that she actually couldn’t conceive of someone finding out about her history. He watched her for a minute as she pulled some manila files from her briefcase, type a little bit, and then check another stack of files. She said something to him that he didn’t quite clearly hear - something about attending a few functions, but only with advance notice - and then he heard himself blurt it out.

“Have you told anyone else that you were a prostitute and a drug addict?”

The click of the keyboard stopped and she knocked the briefcase to the floor with the motion she made to snap to attention. She stared at him wordlessly, her mouth just slightly open. Her left eyebrow twitched, and her eyes narrowed.

“What did you-”

“You heard me.” He suspected she was an expert at settlement negotiations; her face betrayed nothing. She swiveled her chair to face him and folded her hands on her desk.

“Okay, Eli. I don’t know what fiction you’ve invented to get rid of me, but I can assure you, I am not-” At this, he shot up out of his seat and reached into his coat. He threw down a thick envelope of his own, letting it rest between them, a manila elephant in the room. She didn’t bother to pick it up.

“I’m sorry. All I have is a biography,” he shot back. She started to respond, but he cut her off. “Where do we start? The pimp you hooked for after you graduated high school? The drug addictions? Because there were several of those. And speaking of several, what about your multiple names? And the arrests under those names! There’s a great photo section, too, for that matter. Should we talk about rehab?”

Lauren felt like she might actually be sick all over her desk. She was overheated and blood pulsed in her ears. She somehow managed to pull herself out of her chair and to the door to close it. The last thing she needed was for any of the partners - or worse, the other associates - to overhear any of this. She really didn’t know how to respond, other than to simply deny it. But if that envelope contained photos… oh God, mugshots…

“Eli, please. Keep your voice down,” she begged. “It’s-”

“It’s what, a secret? Not for long!”

She turned back toward the shelves near the opposite wall and focused her eyes on the awards. Most of them didn’t mean all that much, really, in the grand scheme of life. They were recognitions of small achievements - law review, associate of the quarter at the firm, a thank-you from the animal shelter she sometimes volunteered at, some legal education certificate for a course she couldn’t even remember. These were things no other associate in any law office would care enough to keep at all, much less display. What good was it to work toward achievements, though, if you hid them all away?

“That isn’t me,” she said in a voice almost as quiet as the silence itself.

“Excuse me, but I can promise you-”

She whirled back around. “I mean, it’s not me anymore.” He couldn’t tell if she was going to cry or scream. Maybe both.

“Well, I realize that,” he said, with a roll of his eyes. “Obviously, you’ve managed to collect yourself since then. But it doesn’t matter, Lauren. If we found it-”

“How? How did you find it?” She sank back down into her chair, more defeated by the moment.

“We hired a private investigator,” he replied, as though this were an everyday occurrence. To his surprise, she didn’t freak out. She didn’t really react at all. She just nodded.

“And now what? What do you want me to do?” She asked the question, but she suspected she already knew the answer.

“Well, in an ideal world, you would go quietly into the good night,” he said, “but I’m guessing that Rafael won’t have that. So, speaking of him, does he know?”

She knew this was coming, but that didn’t mean she was going to go along with it. “No, he doesn’t. And he isn’t going to.”

“Oh, yes he is, and you’re going to tell him.” She stood up again, attempting to challenge him.

“And exactly why would I do that?”

“Because, as I have been trying to tell you,” he replied coolly, “if we found it, they will too. You aren’t going to be able to just disappear if you want to stay with him, so you have two options. Tell him, or break up with him.”

A lock of her unruly hair fell in front of her eyes and she barely made a motion to move it. It was almost unnerving to him how much she resembled Alicia in this moment. The same expressionless, emotionless face, the same chilly affect in what few words she spoke, all reminded him of the day Alicia threw a set of dishes at him because of something he’d confessed he’d done years before. The same blank stare that preceded that moment was now falling across Lauren’s face. Only this time, there were no plates and nothing to run from. He stood his ground and gave her his best death-squint back.

“And if I refuse?”

He swore he heard a hint of panic in her voice, and he knew he had her cornered. He buttoned his coat, preparing to leave. “If you won’t tell him, then I’ll find someone who will, and I promise I won’t soften anything. I’m giving you a chance to get in front of this with him, not because I particularly care about you, but I do care about Rafael. I don’t want him to be hurt by this, personally or professionally.”

“Eli, please-” she begged again. “I’m asking you to please… try not to… can’t you just keep this from…” She was grasping at straws, and she knew it. She knew Eli couldn’t keep it under wraps. She knew that this could all come out any day. Truthfully, she had ALWAYS known. But somehow, she had managed to convince herself otherwise. She had wanted to be with Rafael so badly that she told herself she didn’t need to be afraid of her past anymore, that he would protect her from it. She had been selfish, and now she would have to pay for it.

Eli snapped her back to the nightmarish reality that was now her life thanks to this stupid campaign, with the sound of her office door opening. “I’m serious, Lauren. You tell him, or I will.”

With that short, final warning, he walked out, not even bothering to close the door to let her hide. He had left the manila envelope on the desk, the supporting documentation to his threats. How long did she have before Eli made good on them? How long before she had to tell the man she’d grown to love that she had hidden this terrible, dark thing? One way or another, her world was about to explode. She just had to decide whether she could be the one to detonate the bomb.

For once, it was Nora pacing the floor in Eli’s office. “You’re sure?”

“I didn’t misunderstand. I asked her twice.”

“And she said no?”

“She didn’t say yes.”

“Have you told Marissa?”

“I called her. She’s on her way. I’m actually surprised she didn’t demand proof first.”

“Oh, well, I’m sure that’s the first thing she’ll ask for. I hope you conjured some up.” He didn’t respond, but it was a pointed silence, one with which she was intimately familiar. “Eli, what are you not telling me?”

He looked at his watch. “This is ridiculous, it doesn’t take an hour to get downtown from-”

As if he had conjured her, Marissa blew through the door like an incoming storm. It hadn’t been snowing out when Eli and Nora had gone into the office an hour earlier, but it must have been coming down pretty hard; there was a subway stop half a block from the building, and Marissa’s dark curls were still speckled with flakes. As usual, she got right to the point.

“Whatever you dragged me down here for better be good. I was just getting into a good rhythm with this chapter I was writing, and-”

“Sit down,” Eli said, in a voice that was clipped even for him. “We need to talk.”

She eyed him suspiciously, and then looked at Nora, who was leaning against the front of Eli’s desk with her arms crossed in front of her. She didn’t say anything, but the look on her face was darker than usual. Marissa flopped onto the couch on the side of the room, but she left her coat on; evidently, she wasn’t planning on staying long.

“Fine, happy? Now what’s this all about?”

Eli stood up from behind the desk, iPhone in hand. Behind him, through the thick glass windows that lined his office, she could see the IT nerds still wandering around, the pollsters still hunched over their desks. She noticed he wasn’t wearing a tie, which was odd, because for as long as she could remember, he insisted on wearing a tie when he was working. Somehow, it made him feel like he had more of a commanding presence in front of the underlings. He handed her the phone, which was opened to the voice memo app.

“The first one,” he said, with absolutely no context. She looked at the recordings. There were only two; one of them was labeled “Conference Call with Glenn,” which she made a mental note to ask Eli about later. The other one, at the top of the list and dated that day, didn’t have a real title. It was simply labeled “X.” She frowned.

“What is this?”

“Just listen to it, Marissa,” he replied, giving her a look that was half-pleading, half-exhausted. Grudgingly, she pressed play. She heard some rustling at the start, and then Lauren, clear as glass, asking if Eli minded if she multitasked. Eli said he wanted to talk to her about something, and Lauren said something about photo ops.

“What the hell, Dad?”

“Just shut up and listen!” He snapped. Something in his tone startled her into submission. And just as she closed her mouth, she heard it:

“Have you told anyone else that you were a prostitute and a drug addict?”

She didn’t quite register anything that was said immediately after that. Had he really just asked her that question in THAT way? Then again, she realized, there really isn’t a proper way to ask someone if they’ve ever sold themselves for money or had a drug addiction. She heard Lauren deny it at first - not entirely surprising - and then she heard the sound of what sounded like a book hitting the floor.

“I’m sorry. All I have is a biography. Where do we start? The pimp you hooked for after you graduated high school? The drug addictions? Because there were several of those. And speaking of several, what about your multiple names? And the arrests under those names! There’s a great photo section, too, for that matter. Should we talk about rehab?”

She closed her eyes while she listened to the continued exchange between Lauren and Eli. She tried to imagine herself in Lauren’s stilettos. Having someone she barely knew accuse her of these things, and not being able to deny them, must have been humiliating. But that was just with Eli. Of course she would deny it to him - she would want to talk to Rafael first, to see how he wanted to handle it.

Then, things got infinitely worse.

“And now what? What do you want me to do?” Now, Lauren didn’t sound at all like herself. Her voice was brittle and betrayed fear.

“Well, in an ideal world, you would go quietly into the good night, but I’m guessing that Rafael won’t have that. So, speaking of him, does he know?”

“No, he doesn’t. And he isn’t going to.”

“Oh, yes he is, and you’re going to tell him.”

“And exactly why would I do that?”

“Because, as I have been trying to tell you, if we found it, they will too. You aren’t going to be able to just disappear if you want to stay with him, so you have two options. Tell him, or break up with him.”

Marissa had heard enough. She closed the app and looked away, refusing to make eye contact with anyone. Thoughts swirled and intersected; confusion was becoming her natural state of being these days. She had been sure Lauren had told Rafael. She had been so sure, in fact, that when Eli had first presented her this information, she had accused him of sabotaging his own campaign by withholding the information from them. She didn’t know Lauren well, but she had wanted to believe she was an honest person. Maybe, she thought, she just wanted to believe that people in general were still honest. Now, she didn’t know what was worse: that she had been wrong, or that she’d had such faith in someone in the first place.

“Ris,” Nora said gently, sitting down next to her, “I know this is a shock to you, but-” The implication in her words was clear: it was a shock to MARISSA. No one else was shocked at all.

“I was wrong,” Marissa said. “I’m sorry.”

In most other situations, Eli would have rubbed it in, even taken a small amount of pleasure in it. But the situation was bad enough; there was no need to make his daughter feel worse about herself or her instincts, which were usually good.

“This is a weird situation,” he said, trying to be helpful. “But there’s no time to feel bad about it. We need to figure out what to DO about it.”

Marissa shook her head. “What else can we do? We have to tell him.”

“We need to give her time to do it herself,” Nora said. “Eli only went to her today.”

“Are you joking?” Marissa said, incredulous. “She’s HAD time to tell him. She’s had MONTHS. There shouldn’t be anything to tell by now!”

Eli was taken aback. She sounded like him. “Marissa, we can’t be rash about this. We have to have a PLAN.”

She fixed her eyes on him, but wasn’t really focused on him. She felt herself looking through him, unable to hear anything he was saying because her ears were already too full of lies.

“Okay,” she said suddenly, wrapping her coat around her shoulders and heading toward the door. “You plan. I’m leaving.”

And then, like a crack of lightning, she was gone.

“Marissa!” He called after her. “Get back here!” But it was too late. Either she was already gone or she wasn’t listening to him.

He turned to Nora. “What the hell was THAT, Nora? You just let her walk out?”

“What was I supposed to do, Eli? Barricade the door with my body?”

“It would have been helpful!” He sunk down into the chair behind his desk.

“Where do you think she’s going?” Nora asked. He didn’t reply. Right now, he only knew two things: first, he needed antacid. And second, in the middle of a huge storm, thunder inevitably followed lightning. It was only a matter of time.

His head was throbbing. He could feel the spot where he’d been hit with the gun, right above his temple. But when he went to put his hand to it, to soothe it in some small way, he couldn’t move his hands. Or his arms. Or his legs, for that matter. He looked around. It looked like his bedroom, but turned inside out in a way. The colors weren’t quite right. There was no sign of Marbury, who would usually be laying right in the middle of the bed so that he couldn’t get any space. There were no paintings on the walls. His closet was left open, but his clothes all seemed to be missing.

Suddenly, William Lewis slipped out of the darkness and stood at the foot of the bed, staring at him with the same cruel look he’d given Olivia throughout the child. It was manic, almost as though he were high. His eyes darted over Rafael’s body - it wasn’t a sexual look, but it was just as perverse.

“Hello, Counselor.” Rafael had almost forgotten his voice. Soft, menacing, tortuous. “Oh, come on, now, Mr. Barba. We don’t want to be rude, do we? After all, you can see what happens when people are rude.”

Even though he was restrained, he could somehow lift himself far enough to see over the side of the bed, to where Lewis’s gaze fell. When he saw what Lewis was staring at, he felt the bile come up in his throat. “Olivia-” He croaked out.

And then everything started to burn.

The knock on his door woke him up so suddenly that he nearly fell off the couch out of shock. Quickly, he checked the room. Everything looked normal. Marbury meowed from the comfort of her cat tree in the corner, almost questioning him. He was uncomfortably warm, the sleep-induced sweat glistening on his forehead and the back of his neck, and the light felt just a little too bright. Maybe he had a migraine coming on. He glanced at the door, a little hesitant, which he knew was ridiculous - William Lewis had been dead for years - but, like the dreams themselves, fear didn’t always make sense.

Then there was a second knock, accompanied by a voice. “Mr. Barba?”

“Marissa?” He grabbed a tissue and wiped his brow and neck, then headed for the door. “What are you doing here?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry it’s so late.” He invited her in and led her to the couch. Her hair was windblown and her cheeks were bright pink. “You look like you were sleeping.”

“Oh, it’s all right. If I sleep all night on that couch, I’ll be walking like a zombie tomorrow. Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee?”

“Only you would offer me coffee at 8:30 at night,” she replied. “Anyway, I can’t stay long. I just- there’s something I need to talk to you about, and I didn’t want to do it in the office. It’s kind of personal.”

She looked incredibly uncomfortable, but also deadly serious. This was concerning. Marissa had only been to his apartment a handful of times, and those were work-related. Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good. He sat down on the ottoman across from her and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“Okay,” he said. “Are you alright? Did something happen?”

“I- what?” For some reason, the way he asked the question caught her off-guard. She’d heard him use that voice before - when he was talking to Olivia, usually.

“Well, I know things haven’t been great between you and your Dad since the holidays, and I just want you to know that if the campaign is too much - personally or professionally - I will understand if you need to take a step back.” His eyes were soft, kind, understanding. Suddenly faced with her boss’s sincere concern for her wellbeing, she almost changed her mind about what she was about to tell him. How do you justify breaking someone’s world apart when their first concern was that yours was still in one piece?

“No - no, Mr. Barba, it’s nothing like that.” Her throat was dry. “Actually, maybe I could get a glass of-”

Before she could finish her sentence, he was basically in the kitchen, pouring a tall glass of water from a pitcher in the fridge. He brought it to her and watched her down the entire thing before he continued.

“So if it’s nothing like that, then what is it?”

“When I said it was personal, I meant it was personal for YOU.” It suddenly occurred to her that she had come all the way across town intent on telling him this secret, but had neglected to actually come up a plan for how to do that. Her eyes were locked on him, as though she could psychically communicate the message if she just thought hard enough: Your girlfriend was a prostitute. Your girlfriend was a prostitute.

“Okay, I’m sufficiently intrigued AND worried now,” he replied, growing frustrated.

She took a deep breath. “The first promise I made to you at the start of this campaign was that I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I remember,” he said.

“And I want you to know that I’m not here under duress. My Dad probably would actually rather I NOT be here, and I’m frankly surprised he hasn’t come bursting through the door already, trying to stop me. Especially since I stole his phone.”

“You stole his- what? Why?”

She gave a sheepish smile. “I couldn’t very well ask him for it, could I?”

“What I MEAN is, why do you have it?”

She took a deep breath and turned the phone over and over in her hand. “I’m going to play something for you. And you need to listen to it very carefully. And please don’t shoot the messenger.” She typed in her father’s password - her birthday, of all things - and opened the same recording that she’d heard earlier that evening. Then she watched as his expression changed, from curiosity to confusion to disbelief. Then, as the last of the recording played - Tell him, or break up with him - Marissa saw something she hoped she would never see again: heartbreak, carved in the lines in his face.

He was silent, just staring at the phone’s screen long after it had turned black. His eyes were overcast, cloudy with doubt and anger. She was hesitant to say anything either, unsure of how he would react. Instead, she slipped the phone back into her pocket, then reached over and touched his forearm.

“Mr. Barba…”

Before he could say anything, there was another knock at the door. That seemed to snap him out of his haze. He stiffly stood up, marched to the door, and flung it open without even looking through the peephole. Marissa instinctively looked to see who the other late-night visitor was, half-expecting Eli.

“Rafael,” said Lauren. “Can I come in?”

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