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nathanbatemanfucker · 11 months ago

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In Plain Sight, Ch 3: The Tempest

summary: nathan makes his intentions clear and as always…is a bit of an asshole while doing it.

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, enemies to lovers (sorta), boss/employee dynamics, pining, nerves, SIBLINGSSSS, mentions of care taking/sick relative, first date?? (after the fact), Nathan being A MEGA SIMPPPPPP

wc: 3,446

an: we get to meet reader’s sisters in this, both of which i love very very much! you also get a bit of reader’s background. and of course, nathan’s attempt at asking someone out. hope y’all enjoy and always thanks for reading! <3

in plain sight masterlist | part 4 | phart 5

Sleep last night was difficult…and interesting. It took you a while to fall asleep, your nerves feeling a little frazzled once you’d gotten in the car and started to think about how you were going to have dinner with Nathan. You’ve spent plenty of time alone with him, but within the boss-employee dynamic. This dinner he’s asked you to could still be that— but you wouldn’t have your usual protections. No pressing questions, no tasks, no screens to hide behind. You and him. And food. When’s the last time you shared a meal with someone other than your sisters?

Once you’d finally succumbed to sleep, your dreams were of him. It felt like nothing and everything all at once. Nathan was there. You’ve never dreamt of him before. You were in Nathan’s house— except it was clear that neither of you were working. You watched a movie together cuddling on the couch, cooked a meal, and took a walk through the forest. While the thought of that would never appeal to you in real life when you wake, there’s a peaceful feeling lingering. It’s a little unsettling.

You hop out of bed before you can allow yourself to start assigning meaning to the dream. It was simply that— a dream. A product of your nerves, and spending nearly every waking moment dedicated to learning, organizing and managing all the aspects of Nathan’s life.

You get caught up in your ungodly long morning routine. Breakfast and tea with your mom as you read from her favorite poetry book, picking your sisters’ lunches, showering. Pressing your sisters’ uniforms. Making sure your mother has everything she needs before the time gap it takes for the nurse to arrive. Writing out a to do list for when you get home and setting out your comfortable clothing. Once everything’s set you change out of your robe and into your work clothes. You’re spending too much time in front of the mirror, fidgeting and analyzing yourself. There’s no need to look perfect, it’s just Nathan. Mr. Bateman, you should call him even in your head for separation.

“You look extra pretty today,” Your youngest sister, Emma, mumbles sleepily from her place in your bed.

You smooth out your skirt for the millionth time, looking over your shoulder at her, “Yeah, you think so Em?”

She yawns, raising a fist to rub at her eye. “You did your hair all nice and you’re wearing a skirt.”

“I wear skirts all the time,” You reason with her (and maybe a little with yourself).

“Not the pretty one.”

You cross the room, leaning in to tickle her, “Hey— are you saying all my other skirts are ugly?”

Emma bursts into a fit of giggles, doing her best to twist away from you. “Stop it,” She wheezes.

“Take it back and I’ll stop,” You reason with her, unable to stop your own laughter.

“I’m sorry, I take it back,” She whines, thrashing playfully beneath you.

“You’re safe for now, little one. Do you want me to make you some oatmeal before I go?”

“Can you eat it with me?” Emma asks, hopeful.

“No, honey, I’ve got to go. But, I’ll be home early tonight. We can watch a movie, how does that sound.”

Emma’s quiet for a few moments, obviously disappointed but then she nods, and cracks a sad smile. You lean in to kiss her forehead, hugging her close.

“Go brush your teeth and I’ll make your breakfast.”

“Do you think sister wants to eat with me?”

It takes effort for you not to cringe. Of course Emma wants to spend time with her other sister, but it seems like Phil is in her fuck any and everyone phase. You’ll try to get through to her though, if not for her own sake, then for Emma’s. A 7 year old shouldn't be spending so much time alone, not when some of her family is right here.

“I’ll ask her. If not, you can go sit with momma, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Okay, little, up up. To the bathroom you go.”

You both stand, and you take her hand, dropping her off at the bathroom on your way to Phil’s room. To your surprise, the girl is already on up and on her phone when you crack the door.

She frowns, letting out a little sigh. “What?”

“Emma wants you to have breakfast with her.”

Phil rolls her eyes, not bothering to look over at you, “I’m not hungry.”

“Phillipa, you should eat. And you should always be excited to spend time with your sister.”

“She’s whiny.”

You cross the room, coming to sit beside her on the bed, “So are you.”

“Yeah and I have reason to be,” She murmurs defiantly.

“And she doesn’t?”

She grows quiet then, her thumb that had been continuously scrolling stopping in its tracks.

“Even if you don’t eat, could you just sit with her?” You ask, knowing that her shell has cracked a little.

“Fine, whatever,” She breathes.

“I’m making her a yogurt bowl. Do you want one?”

“No,” She says quickly, trying to feign uninterest. “Unless we have chocolate chips.”

“We have chocolate chips. And marshmallow fluff.”

“Then I guess I’ll have one.”

“Thank you. I’ll leave some money so you can get one of those fancy coffees from the place near your school. Will you pick a movie for us to watch today?”

“You’re coming home?”

“I should be here by 6…7 at the latest.”

“Oh. Okay,” She says, feigning disinterest.

“That’s all I get? An oh okay? Maybe I should tell Mr. Bateman I can work late.”

“No! You’re never home, c’mon don’t do that.”

“I’m excited to hang out with you too,” You say teasingly, leaning over to rest your head on her shoulder. Surprisingly, she lets you stay there.

“Can I make brownies?”

“As long as you let Emma help.”

“Of course I’ll let her help.”

“You have to be patient with her,” You remind her gently.

“I know, I know. Like you were with me,” She whispers thoughtfully. Sometimes you don’t think you give her enough credit.

“I love you Phillipa. You’re her big sister you know? I’m gone so much trying to make everything work here. She’s looking up to you. She thinks you’re the coolest person in the world.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“Can I make her yogurt bowl and you make mine?”

“Sure, sweet girl. Let’s go.”

—

Nathan has never described himself as antsy. Impatient maybe, against delayed gratification sure. Antsy brings a connotation he’s not used to— nerves, a power struggle he’s on the losing side of, and lack of confidence. And while all of that feels true right now he still doesn’t want to admit it. He’s sitting at his desk, waiting for you to get in. His brow is sweaty because he’s been pacing back and forth, changing his mind about where he should be.

Eager to see you, he’d started in your office which is based in one of his many labs. It only took 10 minutes of him pacing in there to think that he was coming on too strong. It led him to the living room, but after sitting for a few minutes lounging at 6:30 in the morning when you were clocking in felt like it would be a slap in the face. He tried the patio, the kitchen, and eventually ended up back in his office.

He’d felt a little good about himself, the fact that he was thinking about this in a way that doesn’t just involve him and his desires. It was one of the reasons he’d realized what was happening to him. He’s doing his best at balancing his protective shell and showing you what he could be. What the two of you could be together.

Nathan loses his breath when you first come up on the camera, walking into your office. He’s always thought you were beautiful but today it seems like you tried to be. That could be his wishful thinking. Either way, he can’t take his eyes off you. You’re wearing a skirt he’s never seen before. A little shorter, a little pleated. It has his mind wandering off to places it shouldn’t, but it’s not like it hasn’t before. He can’t wait to get in the shower long after you left, and imagine what it would feel like to slip you out of it.

He stares…and stares…and stares until he realizes that an hour and half has gone by and he’s done nothing but give himself blue balls while watching you type away on your computer. Fuck, he’s completely at your mercy.

He pings you. Maybe that’ll make it worse, having you right in front of him like this. But, he needs to see you to scratch whatever itch this is in him today. There’s work too, a few things he needs to give to you to file away or mail out.

“Good morning, Mr. Bateman.”

He usually likes it when you call him that— especially when he’s imagining you say it while he runs his hands all over your body, all dirty and forbidden. Today is different. Something about it makes him shift uncomfortably in his seat. With dinner today, his first real shot at trying to know you as something other than his employee. As an outsider like everyone else.

“Would it kill you to call me Nathan?” He asks, raising a brow though his mouth is a little pouty.

It takes everything in you not to laugh. He looks ridiculous when he’s disgruntled. “That would be unprofessional, sir. Are those for me?”

“Yeah, they’re for you. We still on for dinner?”

The words make your stomach flip. Not because you don’t want to, but because you do. Because words like that aren’t supposed to come out of your boss’ mouth. They’re too casual, too much like the one’s men you used to swipe through on your phone said.

“Yes, I’m still able to have dinner with you, sir. Am I able to leave early?” You ask, reaching for the stack of files.

“You can leave whenever you want.”

Your mouth pulls up into a half-smile, and you nod. “Thank you, Mr. Bateman.”

Nathan leaves you be for the rest of the day. He doesn’t want to come on too strong, or be too clingy, something he’s never worried about before. He spends most of the day with the chef, yelling at him that he’s making everything all wrong— too salty or sweet or slimy or acidic— until it’s perfect. He needs it to be perfect. And once it is, he appears in the doorway of the lab your office is in, calling out to you in an uncharacteristically soft manner.

You inhale softly as you two make your way to the kitchen, the smell of familiar herbs and spices in the air. “Italian?”

“Compiled some data— this seemed like the smartest choice.”

“Compiled some data? On me?”

“I compile data on everyone. I need to learn.”

“What could you possibly have to learn about me?”

“Everything. You’re really fucking secretive.”

“I’m not secretive, I’m private,” You reason.

Nathan snorts, looking at you with an expression of disbelief, “You have to realize that those things are the same.”

“They’re not,” You counter before thinking better of it.

This is why you were quiet and avoided him as much as possible— Philippa isn’t the only one in your family with a streak of defiance. Denying authority runs in your blood, it has taken you years to quell it.

“They are if somebody’s trying to get to know you.”

“And that’s what you’re doing, Mr. Bateman? Trying to get to know me?”

He shrugs, feeling a little too unsettled— a little too nervous to reveal his intentions so early on.

“What did you learn with this data you compiled on me?”

“That you like noodle dishes of all kinds, but preferably Italian. And chocolate.”

There are two places settings sat at the corner of the table, a few bowls of various pastas, salads and breads. Dinner is surprisingly calm. He asks you simple, noninvasive questions about your past. He knows where you went to school and what past jobs you’ve had, but he asks you how you felt about them, if you made friends. He asks for your favorite movies and bands, supplying his own when you ask the same questions. It’s the most benign conversation you’ve ever had with him and it feels…good.

He surprises you when he says, “This. Again. Maybe next week?”

Your mouth goes flat with confusion, “You want to have dinner with me again, sir?”

“Nathan,” He suggests, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

You stare at him for a moment, eyes narrowing. “If this is some sort of joke, I don’t appreciate it, Nathan.”

Sweet, sweet music to his ears. Even with the attitude in your voice, Nathan drinks in every drop of his name on your tongue. In fact, he thinks the edge makes it better— it makes his blood hot. It makes him want you.

He leans closer, peering at you from over his glasses. “I’m an asshole and a clown, a shitty combination but what I’m not is an idiot, sweetheart. I wouldn’t joke about this,” His face is earnest as he speaks.

But, what does that even mean when it comes to him? You’re not completely sure. What’s worse is that you don’t know if your stomach is flipping at the idea of him telling the truth or disappointment that he may not be. The latter is what scares you most. When did you start to care about him like that?

“You— are you— you’re— you want to date me?”

Nathan bites his tongue for several seconds. He can’t say that he wants to do more than date you. He wants to consume you, to worship you, to spread you across this table and drink from between your legs until you whine and beg him for mercy. He can’t do any of that— not yet at least.

He settles for, “Yes.”

With his affirmative response, with nowhere to hide you look down at your empty plate, trying to process what’s happening. If this is true and he wants to date you, was this your first date? First dates are consensual, and while you had agreed to this dinner with him you hadn’t even been aware of your feelings at the time. Surely you couldn’t date your boss. It’s the total opposite of what you’d been trying to do— keep a low radar and be as competent and professional as possible to keep your family on the right path. You wouldn't jeopardize that for the hot, broad, bearded man sitting in front of you, even if he was looking at you with those gooey brown eyes. How long had you pretended you didn’t see him? How wide he is, how his shirts cling to his shoulders and chest, how sometimes when he comes straight to the lab after boxing his pheromones have you wanting to rut against him like an animal in heat.

You inhale a sharp breath, horrified and surprised by the thoughts racing through your head. It’s like he had unlocked a vault of vulgarities.

Finally, you look at him, apologetic, “Nathan…I can’t. I can’t do something that.”

Nathan notices right away that you didn’t deny feeling anything, and for now that’s enough. It’s an in. And if he’s not mistaken he hears a breathiness in your tone, hunger in your eyes.

“Why?”

“You’re my boss,” You say simply. It seems rather straightforward but Nathan frowns at you in confusion. For a man with such a big brain he could miss the mark sometimes. It would be endearing if it didn’t drive you a little nuts. Okay, maybe it’s both.

“What’s that gotta do with anything?”

“If it went poorly—“

“You think I would fire you over my ego?”

“Quite frankly, yes. I’ve seen how you treat people.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” He insists firmly. He knows it’s true, he just had to convince you.

“How would you know?”

“Because I know.”

“And if I say that’s not good enough? My entire family is dependent on me. On the money I make. I can’t and won’t put that at risk.”

Nathan scoffs, “There is no risk. I’m sure.”

“What if I’m not sure?”

“What’s that gotta do with how I feel?”

“Everything.”

“Nothing. It’s got nothing to do with how I feel, wanna know why? Because I put my ass on the line asking you here, not knowing how the fuck you feel about me. You’re the most elusive, sweet, competent…fucking arousing woman I’ve ever met. I’m spoken for.”

“Prove it,” You challenge.

This time he’s sure. He can hear how winded you sound and he knows that he’s affecting you. He wants to clear the table, crawl across and fuck you until neither of you can think. He’s getting ahead of himself.

“Prove it?”

“A trial of you showing me that all of what you said is true. We can spend more time together, but no commitments, and if it doesn’t work out I keep my job.”

“You sure? You’re gonna fall in love with me,” He warns, his grin mischievous.

“And you’re gonna have to work for it. Have you ever had to court a woman, Mr. Bateman?”

“No, sounds like I’ve got a lot of research to do. I’m a fast learner.”

“That you are.”

“Do you want to know your choices for dessert?”

“There’s choices?”

“Four.”

You grow thoughtful for a moment, before saying, “All of them. Bring me all of them.”

He can’t help the smile that spreads across his face— if he wasn’t in love with you already he is now. You allow yourself to look at him, to really look at him. And like this, his teeth white and shiny, eyes crinkled in the corners, warm brown eyes he looks sweet. Lovable. Like he could one day be yours. You won’t get your hopes up, not yet.

—

Nathan walks you to your car. It’s strange, much sweeter than you anticipating him being, but you did tell he had to work for it. You unlock the car with your remote and he gets your door. He ushers you in. He takes your hand and kisses it, his full beard tickling your skin in a way that makes your thoughts go hot and filthy.

“Drive safe for fucks sake.”

“Aren’t you a charmer?” You murmur in that soft little voice.

Nathan raises a brow at you as he leans against the car. “Are you sassing your boss?”

“No. I’m sassing the man that claims he wants to pursue me.”

“I hate to break it to you, but those are the same man, sweetheart,” He teases with a grin.

“Not if he’s gonna get it together, and prove it.”

“Touché. Let me know when you get home?”

“Keeping tabs on me already?”

“I— I always wonder,” He admits softly, and as you peer at him, you notice a soft flush in his cheeks.

He’s going to be the death of you, isn’t he? Getting all soft and sweet and flustered. You want to grab him by the collar and kiss him until his chest heaves with arousal and he cums in his pants. Instead you say: “I’ll let you know.”

“Good,” He takes a step away from the car, trying his best not to show how pleased he is with your agreement.

He feels like a walking raw nerve. You hold his future in your hands— his happiness, his sanity. It’s unhealthy and scary, how much control you have over him. But this time, he knows that the person is worthy. You’re worth any pain you could cause him, and that’s solidified by the way you grin up at him. It’s the brightest thing he’s ever seen. You looking at him like this, your saccharine smile, eyes full of mirth has his brain liquifying.

He grits his teeth at the way you’ve turned him into some Shakespearean loser. He could wax day in and day out about you. Write lines upon lines of code that would program nothing but his feelings for you. It’s stupidly perfect. He wants this with no one else. There is just you. Part of him is convinced that it’s always been you. He’s been on trajectory, making his way to you with every single decision. Fuck Bluebook. Fuck robots and their fake brains and gangly synthetic limbs. Fuck his data. Fuck all of his accomplishments. There’s just you.

“See you tomorrow, Nathan.”

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#nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman x f!reader #nathan bateman x fem!reader #nathan bateman #nathan bateman fanfiction #ex machina fanfiction #arson writes #in plain sight #not sfw

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the-west-meadow · 2 years ago

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People Are Watching (Normal People pt 2)

Lukas Matsson x (fem)Reader, Roman Roy x (fem)Reader

word count: 3.4k (part 1 here)

NFSW: 18+ ONLY

It had been a long time since you’d gotten this dressed up.

After a year of dating Roman, you had discovered that looks weren’t necessarily a priority. He liked having you on his arm, showing you off, but there was never any need to try too hard. Things were stable with Roman. He just didn’t want you to go anywhere. As long as you were within arm’s reach, he was content.

So you didn’t put in much effort anymore. Not to say that you had let yourself go; but there were few occasions that called for getting dressed up these days.

That is, aside from the most important night in a long time: election eve.

You glimpsed Roman coming into the room, collar upturned, adjusting his tie. He slowed when he saw you, eyes tracing your body.

“Almost ready,” you said.

He lingered behind you, examining your reflection in the mirror. There was a look of mingled confusion, sadness, and desire in his eyes.

“Huh,” he said.

“Too much?”

“No, no. I’m sure he’ll love it.”

You caught his eye in the mirror.

“Who?” you asked.

A crooked grin crossed Roman’s face.

“Come on. I know this isn’t for me.”

You felt a prickle of guilt. “Roman…”

“Do we need to do that thing where we say what we’re really thinking?”

“If you want. I know how you like to keep things annoyingly vague.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed, tie loose around his neck.

“I mean, you guys really hit it off, yeah?” he said. “You and Lukas.”

“I guess. I’ve only met him twice.”

“Okay, well I’m telling you from an outside perspective that you guys had a spark. There was something.”

“You and me have something, too.”

“But it’s like the opposite of what we have.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s… you know. Sex…ual.”

You felt your cheeks beginning to flush.

“He’s just a flirt,” you said. “He’s probably like that with everyone.”

“No, Y/N. Not everyone.”

His eyes shimmered sadly as he smiled.

“But he’s like that with you. And that’s a fact.”

“So what are you saying? What do you want me to do?”

“Look. I get that you have… needs. Needs that I can’t necessarily fulfill.”

He seemed to grow smaller as he spoke. You quickly stepped over to him, taking a seat beside him on the bed.

“That doesn’t matter to me,” you said firmly. “I’m with you because I really fucking like you, Roman. You're my favorite Roy.”

“No, I know.” His hand went compulsively to the back of his head, smoothing down his hair. “It’s just… I don’t want to keep you from something that might be good for you.”

“You think fucking Lukas is good for me?”

“Well… and hear me out— maybe it’s good for me, too.”

“This is sounding fucked up. But go on.”

“Like, it sort of takes the pressure off. If some other guy is giving you what you need... physically— barf— then we can just keep doing what we’re doing. And you’ll never leave me and everything will be fine. Right? Is that how relationships work?”

You couldn’t help but grin. “Not usually.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

“But this one can.”

You ruffled his hair as he grinned back at you.

“Just don’t look so fucking sad,” you said. “You kill me with your sad eyes.”

“That’s the only reason you’re with me. Because of my sad eyes.”

“I know.”

“Lukas doesn’t have sad eyes,” Roman prodded.

“We both know Lukas is kind of a dumbass. A dumbass who happens to also be a genius.”

“But he’s hot.”

“Shut up and let me get dressed.”

Lukas grew jumpy when he was in New York. The city didn’t make sense to him. What was the appeal? For the most part it just felt chaotic, and not in the best ways. What others loved about it he found uninteresting. There were better places to spend time.

But there was one thing in the city that he wanted. Something he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since the summer. It was November now, cold by American standards. He had been in Sweden for most of that time, on his home turf, recharging, tuning everything out so he could hear his own thoughts. But as it turned out, his thoughts centered on one thing: you.

The day on Lake Como when Roman had brought you to him seemed like a whirlwind. You hadn’t been alone together for more than an hour, but he couldn’t get it out of his head. The exact slant of the light. Your bare feet on his floor. The way your eyes lingered on him. He played it back in his mind over and over, late at night when he couldn’t sleep. Almost as if he didn’t need the real thing anymore. And that was the danger with Lukas: the tendency to get lost in his own fantasies, content to exist in his own mind.

But when he woke up from the fantasy he realized he wanted more. To see you again. To hear your voice. To spend hours with you in bed. Any bed.

He thought you would come to Norway with Roman and the others. In fact, he had planned on it. But when you failed to show up, he grew unreasonably depressed. Roman didn’t say a word about what had happened, but occasionally a knowing smile would pass his lips, and Lukas would wonder how much he knew. Or how much he even cared.

So rather than waste a trip to New York, he decided to confirm things for himself.

“You know there’s such a thing as time zones, right?” came Siobhan’s voice through the phone.

“Yeah, sorry. I don’t really pay attention. It’s just whatever’s convenient for me.”

“That’s like the story of your life.”

“Listen, who’s coming to the pre-election circle jerk?”

“Lots of people.”

“The sibs?”

“They’ll all be there. Especially Connor.”

“Any plus ones…?”

A long pause. He could hear Shiv smiling and he hated it.

“Who are you really asking about, Lukas?”

“Look, I had a conversation with Y/N a while back that we never really got to finish.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“That’s a pretty vague descriptor. Without seeing your face I don’t know what to make of that.”

“She’s been with my brother for a year.”

“We’re friends.”

“Oh, you’re friends? I wasn’t aware that you’d ever met.”

“Can you just tell me if she’ll be there or not?”

“Well, she RSVP’d. But you’re playing a really fucked up game, Lukas.”

“I didn’t realize you cared so much about your brothers’ feelings. Everything so far points to the contrary.”

“Fuck off. I’m going back to sleep. But you’re coming, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll respond to the invite if it so pleases you.”

“Good. Goodnight.”

“It’s morning.”

Shiv hung up. Lukas put down the phone and gazed out at the city of Stockholm outside his window. Now he had to brace himself for New York.

He didn’t know what made him choose that shimmery gold bomber jacket, but it had exactly the right effect when he walked into the room. All eyes on Lukas. If you were there, you wouldn’t be able to miss him. Yet the first person to greet him wasn’t who he expected.

“What is this, foreign election interference?” said Roman, sidling up to him at the bar.

“I thought you guys took care of that yourselves,” Lukas said, sipping his beer.

“Good to see you, man. How’ve you been?”

“Better, I guess. You caught me at a weird time last summer.”

“Yeah, you seem chipper. Is that a hint of manic-depression I detect?”

Lukas just raised an eyebrow as Roman grinned.

“Trust me, I know all about it. But really, what’s got you in such a good mood?”

Lukas shrugged. “It’s good to be back.”

“Bullshit. You hate New York.”

“It’s the people who make it worthwhile.”

Roman gave a sly smile. Then he perked up and waved at someone over Lukas’s shoulder.

“Here we go.”

Lukas turned in time to see you brush past him, pausing at Roman’s side. As he caught your eye, the last time you had met came back in a rush. He could almost smell the breeze coming off of Lake Como.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hi.” Despite Roman’s presence, Lukas couldn’t take his eyes off of you. With that same sly grin, Roman slipped an arm around your waist.

“We were talking about you earlier,” Roman said.

“Really?” Lukas said.

“Uh-huh. Y/N was nervous about seeing you again.”

Lukas glanced your way, noting how your cheeks flushed immediately.

“Fuck, Roman,” you said.

“What? Who wouldn’t be? I mean, look how conventionally attractive he is. Even Shiv said so.”

You slipped out of Roman’s grasp, grabbing a glass of wine from the bar.

“See you around,” you murmured, edging through the crowd and out of sight.

“Damn, dude,” Lukas said, watching you go.

“It’s okay. It’s kind of our thing. She won’t say what she’s really thinking in public, so I do it for her.”

He glanced at his watch, then slung back the rest of his vodka tonic.

“I have some presidential ass to kiss. Have a good time, yeah?”

Lukas thought he saw a wink. Then Roman, too, was gone. He could immediately feel the eyes of others on him, ready to swoop in and network him to death. He grabbed another beer and stalked out of the room, conspicuously taller than everyone.

He found himself in a sitting room with a low sectional sofa, different groups engaged in conversation. He spotted you on one end of the sofa, alone, sipping your wine and staring into space. No one had yet approached you.

He casually slid into the seat next to you.

“Everything okay?” he said, setting down his beer.

“Yeah. Sorry about Roman.”

“Do you apologize for him a lot?”

“Not to everyone.”

Lukas stretched his arm out along the sofa behind you, angling his knee dangerously close to yours.

“So listen,” he said. “I want to say some things. But try not to react. Even my facial expressions have an effect on the market, okay?”

“I get it.”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the summer.”

“Is that right?”

“If it were up to me, I’d take you out of here right now. Back to my hotel room. I’ve got a really nice place downtown. I’d keep you there for a day or two then maybe we’d go back to Sweden and I could show you around.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“See all the eyes in this room? They’re watching me. My every move is public. And especially who I’m talking to. Not that I give a shit. But it’s you I’m worried about.”

“Why are you worried about me?”

“It’s public knowledge that you’re with Roman. If you’re seen leaving with me…”

You let out a sigh, sinking back into the sofa. Lukas’s fingers brushed your shoulder. He spoke in a low, breathy voice.

“I know it’s fucked. We should be able to do whatever the fuck we want, right?”

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, either.”

“Is it true what Roman said? You were nervous?”

Your cheeks began to flush again and Lukas smiled.

“It’s okay. It’s kind of adorable, actually.”

His eyes glimmered as he looked at you.

“Careful,” you said. “People are watching, remember?”

“I’m keeping an eye on them,” he murmured. “I know how to take advantage of the brief moments when they look away.”

His hand slid down along the side of your thigh, brushing the skin at the hem of your dress.

“How do we do this?” you whispered.

“I’ll leave first. You come after me.”

Just as his hand began to slide further up your thigh, Greg collapsed beside Lukas on the sofa. Lukas’s hand gracefully slid away, reaching for his beer.

"Lukas, dude,” Greg said. “I’ve been practicing my Swedish in anticipation of your arrival.”

“Cool, man. Why don’t you practice on her?”

With that he stood, feeling your eyes on his back. He turned to see you gazing at him as Greg talked incessantly into your ear. He winked at you, then disappeared into the other room.

You didn’t even tell Roman you were leaving. Five minutes after Lukas departed, you escaped from Greg and went into the bathroom. You stared at the text from Lukas— the address of his hotel. In another five you were out the door, hailing a taxi.

You padded slowly down the empty hotel corridor, eyeing the room numbers as you went. Your heart was pounding already. Finally you came to the end of the hall, the presidential suite. You entered with the key that had been left for you at reception.

All was dark. At first, you wondered if you had arrived before him.

“Lukas?” you said softly. You rounded the corner into the master bedroom, city lights illuminating the bed. And there he was, propped on elbows, scrolling through his phone, waiting for you. His eyes flickered up in the glow from his screen. Then went dark. Just a silhouette on the bed as your eyes adjusted to the dim city light.

“Come here,” came his low voice.

He sat up on the edge of the bed as you approached. You stood between his knees as he hooked a finger around yours and drew you closer.

“That didn’t take you long at all,” he said.

“I’ve been waiting for this for months.”

He slid his hands up your thighs, picking up where he had left off at the party. A soft breath escaped you as you felt his warm palms beneath your dress.

“Does Roman know?”

“I don’t know what he knows.”

“We’re going to take our time this time around. Yeah?”

You could only let out a shaky breath as he hooked his fingers around your underwear and slid them down. Then his head disappeared beneath your dress. Your head went back, eyes closed, as you felt his tongue against you, warm and slow and eager.

It was as if no time at all had passed. He seemed to know your body innately, his big hands gripping your thighs, his soft groans vibrating through you.

“Fuck, Lukas…”

His head emerged and he stood, suddenly towering over you.

“Turn around,” he breathed as he began to tug off his shirt. But you couldn’t do as he said, not with his body naked before you. You ran your hands up his abdomen, his chest, through the sparse blonde hair. He grinned breathlessly as he watched you, amused. Then he began to unbuckle his pants.

“Go on. I have something for you.”

He gently turned you around and you heard his pants fall to the ground. Then his hands were beneath your dress again, caressing you, up your thighs to your lower back. Smoothly running over your skin. Then you felt one hand withdraw as he pressed the tip of his cock against you. You gasped lightly and felt him guide you down, leaning over the bed, his throat pressed against your shoulder.

“Remember this?”

“Fuck, yes,” you said.

He teasingly ran his tip between your legs.

“You can’t wait much longer, hm?”

“Just fucking give it to me, Lukas.”

With that, he slipped partially inside of you, drawing a gasp. You could feel him grinning into your ear.

“Like that?”

“Oh, god,” you whimpered.

“I’ll give it to you. You’ve waited so long.”

He slowly pushed his entire length inside of you. You let out a loud moan.

"That's good. Let me hear you."

He took his time as he thrust slowly in and out of you, beneath the hem of your dress, his hands firm on your hips.

“There you go,” he breathed. He skillfully slipped your dress over your head and dropped it to the floor, running his hands along your back. He planted kisses on your shoulders as he rhythmically pulsed in, out.

“I fucking missed you,” he whispered.

"I missed you," you groaned.

He turned you around to face him. His face was flushed even in the darkness. Something glimmered in his eyes. He looked more serious than you had ever seen him. He kissed you, deeply, then slowly lowered you onto the bed and climbed on top of you. He hovered there, inches above your face, looking deep into your eyes.

“I could be good for you,” he said. “You could be good for me.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Really? Then how's it possible that I can make you feel this good?”

You laughed breathlessly, then sucked in your breath as he slid his fingers between your legs, moving in slow circles. You squirmed beneath him, feeling his eyes on you, watching your every movement.

“You deserve someone to make you feel good,” he murmured.

You pushed into his touch, head rolling back. Then you grabbed the back of his head, burying your hand in his hair.

“Fuck me,” you whispered.

Wasting no time, Lukas’s hand slipped away. He grasped his cock and pushed into you again, hungry this time, powerful and urgent. You bucked against him, crying out in the dark hotel room, no one to hear you but him. He groaned into your ear, suddenly without words. His fingers dug into your skin as he fucked, hard, taking back every second of lost time. Finally with a strangled cry you felt him shudder inside of you, muscles tensing all at once, then releasing. He shook slightly as he lowered himself down, pulling you to him. He cradled your head against his damp chest.

“I need you here,” he said, brushing back your hair. “Right here.”

You lightly kissed his neck, his chest. He angled your face up and planted a tender kiss on your lips.

“But it’s not up to me, is it?” he said with a small grin.

“I’m here now,” you said, curling against him. “That’s all.”

It was late, and Roman’s townhouse was dark when you got back. You carried your shoes through the house and to the bedroom. Roman was there on the bed, still fully clothed, the TV flickering over him. He watched you enter the room with a knowing smile.

“Hey,” he said in his light singsong voice. “How was your night?”

You slid onto the bed, barefoot. Roman sat up and crossed his legs, putting the TV on mute.

“Do you really want to know?”

“You look good. Your hair is a mess. Looks like it went well.”

“Yeah. It went well.”

He stroked your forearm with one testing finger.

“Why don’t you tell me about it?”

You looked straight at him.

“Seriously?”

“Try me.”

Taking a deep breath, you began.

“Okay… well, you probably saw him leave. I waited a few minutes and went out after him. He texted me the address to his hotel, so I got a cab and went downtown.”

“How did you get in?”

“He left a key at reception.”

“Ooh. Classy. What next?”

You hesitated.

“Come on. You won’t get in trouble.”

“I let myself in, and it was dark. He was in the bedroom waiting for me.”

You heard Roman swallow, but kept going.

“I went over to him, and he slid his hands up my dress. He really didn’t waste any time talking.”

“Did he say anything? Anything at all?”

“He asked if you knew I was there.”

Roman drew in his breath. He squirmed on the bed, leaning back against the pillows.

“Uh-huh.”

You lie back on the foot of the bed, crossing your hands over your chest.

“He used his tongue first. He didn’t even undress me. Just lifted up my dress.”

You heard Roman slowly unbuckle his belt. A slight whimper as his hand slid down his pants.

“And you were right about his dick. He’s huge. He teased me first. Wouldn't give me the whole thing. I think he knew how much it annoyed me.”

You could hear the soft grunts issuing from Roman.

“Then he started getting sentimental. Said we’d be good for each other. I told him to shut up and put his cock back in me. Then he really and properly fucked me. He felt almost angry.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Hard. Very hard. But afterwards he was soft. He said he wanted me to stay. But I didn’t."

"No?"

"He knew I would come back to you.”

A small groan. Then a low “fuck.” Roman sat up, hunched over on the side of the bed, his hair askew. He stood up, adjusting himself as he headed to the bathroom. He leaned over you, face flushed, hair askew. He kissed your forehead softly, then grinned down at you.

“When are you seeing him again?”

#may I present... some more freaky shit #succession #lukas matsson #lukas matsson x reader #lukas matsson/reader #roman roy #roman roy/reader #roman roy x reader

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bunnylovesani · 1 year ago

Text

Miss Congeniality

Chapter 1

Content warnings: suggestive and derogative language, reader being humiliated, mentions of panties and arousal

WC: 2.4k

You stared at the clock and huffed, it was 10 minutes past midnight. Your older brother Jaden and his best friend Anakin should’ve come home by now.

“Good night honey, don’t stay up too late, you need your beauty sleep for the pageant tomorrow!” your mother cooed as she walked past your door, peering into your admittedly childishly decorated bedroom.

You had turned 19 last month but still hadn’t gotten over your fixation for all things pink and frilly, your walls adored with posters of your favourite singers and your bedsheets decorated with petite lace bows on every corner. You wrapped your satin bedrobe tight around yourself as you got up and headed downstairs to the lounge, where you’d spent many nights staring at the door waiting for your favourite boys to come home from their escapades.

Your gaze settled on a large framed photo of you resting on the mantlepiece, wearing a pageant crown and smiling gracefully. Sure, you were mommy and daddy’s pride and joy, the most beautiful girl in the county and latest winner of the teen Miss Naboo competition, but you were bored. A whole lifetime of always being the good girl had taken its toll and left you with a feeling of discontenment and envy. You saw the way other girls had fun, sneaking out at night and going to parties with handsome boys- Anakin always had a crowd of women swarming him and you hated that you felt jealous at the attention he gave them.

You knew ultimately you were above all that, you knew that you were saving yourself for a worthy man, one who would appreciate the efforts you made to keep yourself pure. But sometimes, when you saw the veins snaking their way down Ani’s arms, with his black band tees rolled up to his muscular elbows and his plump lips playing with his tongue piercing, you feared you might not be able to hold back much longer. As if your thoughts summoned him, the door swung open and the raucous laughter of the boys filled the stately family home.

“Did you see the way that chick was giving me fuck-me eyes? She totally wants it, I’ve got half a mind to - oh. Sis, what are you doing still up?” Jaden’s face fell as he hung his coat up.

“I was just making myself a cup of cocoa, trying to soothe my nerves for the competition tomorrow.” You lied. You couldn’t care less about the pageant and you didn’t even really like cocoa. You just wanted to be there to catch a glimpse of your favourite emo boy.

“Oh yeah, forgot that shit was tomorrow. Do I still have to drive you?” Jaden rolled his eyes, he never did understand the appeal of being paraded around like a prized pig.

“No, I presumed you’d be too inebriated from the night before so I asked daddy already.” You happily chittered, unconsciously raising your nightie just a little so that your brother’s friend might catch a better glimpse of your freshly moisturised, strawberry scented thighs. He didn’t pay it any notice as per usual, not that it stopped you from trying.

“Ah you know me too well.” Jaden chuckled “Good luck with that, let’s go Anakin.”

“Wait, wait! How was your night? Did you guys have fun?” You pouted, big doe eyes staring at them in disappointment to have not been filled in on their nighttime adventures.

“Oh you don’t wanna hear about that sweetheart” Ani finally spoke, smirking. “Your brother is quite the Cassanova.”

“That’s enough of that, off to bed with you” Jaden interrupted him, motioning for you to leave before slipping into the kitchen to help himself to the pot of fresh cocoa you’d made.

“You know, you look really creepy when you’re sat there like that right in front of the door. At least turn on a lamp or some shit.” Anakin uttered harshly, making your cheeks burn up with embarassment.

“Um, I, I’m sorry? I’ll make sure the place is lit up like a christmas tree next time.” You muttered, staring at the ground and silently cursing your obedient nature. God, he had a way of making you feel small. The slight smirk that creeped up on his face made you suspect that he liked that.

“Now that I think about it, why is it that you happen to be in the living room every time I come through the door? Do you wanna hang out with us that bad?” Anakin sniggered in that signature cocky way only he knows how.

“Oh shut up, I have better things to do than to sit around smoking joints with 2 college dropouts.” You rolled your eyes, was it that obvious? Clearly you would have to find a better cover than drinking hot chocolate.

“Goddamn, this cocoa tastes like shit. Are you sure you didn’t make it with mud?!” Jaden emerged from the kitchen sipping from his mug and scowling, eliciting a cackle from Anakin. “Don’t ever try cooking sis, stick to looking pretty in dresses.” he tousled your hair as he walked past you and up the stairs to his room. Anakin gave you one last look, subtly dropping his glare down to your legs before smiling ever so slightly as he followed his friend. The second of eye contact made your heart pound with a worrying intensity and you had to calm your racing mind before the inappropriate thoughts started forming again.

It had been a week since the last time the boys hung out, and in this moment you wished it’d been longer as you sat in bed, enveloped in your pink fluffy blanket - huffing at the sounds of Anakin and Jaden howling with laughter next door. What could possibly be so funny that it induces such animalistic noise? Once the guffawing was so loud that you could no longer hear your movie over it, you resolutely climbed out of bed, slid your slippers on and marched over to your brother’s room across the hallway. As soon as you opened the door, the pungent smell of their sweet, earthy joint hit you.

“Ah, so that’s why you’re laughing so hard.” You cross your arms at the sight of them convulsing with giggles. “Can you cretins keep it down?”

“Apologies, are we disturbing your Barbie movie marathon?” A very dishevelled looking Jaden grinned. “Or are you watching Enchanted again? How many times have I told you, stop dreaming about Prince Charming, he’s not coming.” You furrow your brows, about to launch a tirade on your brother when Anakin interjects.

“Oh my God, what are those?” he points at your slippers. “Are you wearing fluffy pink bunnies on your feet? Seriously?” He covers his mouth with his hand to stop the giggles that threaten to burst through. You stare down at the dopey faces of the little bunnies sticking out of your shoes.

“No! I mean yes but these are old, mom bought them for me, they were just lying around and I’m kinda cold.” The excuses started flowing out as Anakin glared at you endearingly.

“Oh my God, why are you lying? They’re her favourite ones, she wears them every day.” Jaden sniggers and you wonder why you even tried to lie with your brother there.

“Aw, you don’t have to lie sweetie, I think it’s cute. Pretty little pageant princess in her pink slippers.” Anakin smiles and you’re unsure whether he’s mocking you.

Feeling mortified, you run out and slam your bedroom door closed- a resounding bang being heard as the bedrobe and nightie that hung on the back fell off the hook and spilled onto the floor. For their information, you were watching a documentary. You know he dismissed you as nothing other than his friend’s childish little sister, just a brat who couldn’t ever keep up with him- he was 4 years older than you after all.

But you’re not a little girl anymore. Sure, your favourite colour was pink and you pranced around on stage in ballgowns, but you were a woman now. You had come into your own this year and you saw the whole world differently. You had never usually paid any mind to the boys that circulated around the house with your brother- but now they piqued your interest immensely, one in particular. You’ll never forget the first day you really noticed him.

It was last winter, you had gone to support your big brother at one of his hockey matches as you often loved doing. It was the semi-finals and he had led his team to a resounding victory as captain, rushing the barricades towards you and your parents, arms raised and fists curled in a triumphant dance that you mirrored. He engulfed you in a callous bear hug, easily enveloping you before clambering over to your parents. Over the broad shoulders of the players, you caught a glimpse of him.

His dark hair swooped messily over his forehead, thick eyebrows furrowed over his piercing blue eyes as he hung back from the rest of the team, choosing to avoid the adoring crowd and slip away into the changing rooms. You experienced a visceral response to seeing him in that oversized hockey jersey, so much so that you saw it in your dreams for the next month.

Suddenly, the unobtrusive guy who hung around your brother and occasionally teased you for the way you dressed became so much more than that. You felt on edge every time he came over, rushing over to your room to put on some lipgloss or change into a cuter dress before casually walking past the hallway a suspicious amount of times, hoping he would get a glimpse of you through the open crack in Jaden’s door. Luckily for you, your oaf of a brother never caught on, and if Anakin did, he never made it known.

Whilst reminiscing, you heard a knock on the door.

“Hey, it’s just me.” Ani’s sweet voice sounded. “I didn’t mean to upset you, we were just playing around.” You got up from your wallowing position in bed and straightened up like an arrow.

“Oh no, it’s fine, I wasn’t upset. I’m used to it.” You smiled sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “But thanks anyway.”

“I meant what I said. It’s good you have a strong identity, it’s what makes you you. You shouldn’t pay any mind to what others say, least of all me. I mean I’ve had plenty of choice comments about my look but I wouldn’t be Anakin without the piercings or the headphones or the bad attitude now, would I?” He leans on the doorframe and looks at you curiously. You have to take a deep breath to suppress a full body shiver, you don’t think you can take much longer of him staring at you like you’re his next meal.

“What’s all this- oh my“ he spots your nightie on the floor and picks it up. “Who are you trying to impress wearing this missy?” he closely inspects the white satin dress adorned with a lace trim, rubbing the rough pads of his fingers over the smooth fabric.

“And this?” He picks up the scandalous red panties sprawled out next to his feet and observes them as they dangle off his finger.

“Anakin! Put those down!” You jolt up towards him in an attempt to frantically snatch them out of his hand but he simply holds them up in the air so that you can’t reach. You weren’t a short girl by any means but you felt like one next to Ani’s staggering height.

“Oh this is priceless, are you telling me you actually wear these around the house? Or is it to your pageants, do you have some kind of boyfriend we don’t know about?” He laughs, clearly enjoying this abuse of power.

“No I don’t, not that it’s any of your business!” You huffed, slapping his chest in indignant frustration. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to look pretty for yourself.”

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t believe you. Because these aren’t pretty panties, this is a very slutty thong. One that someone would only wear if they were expecting to get laid.” His raspy voice dropped in tone, like he was saying something he didn’t want anyone else to hear. “Are you trying to get laid?”

A whimper almost escaped your lips at the unexpected question. Suddenly you were aware of how close your face was to his and that both your hands were resting on his chest.

“I won’t even dignify that with a response.” You muttered quietly, maintaining eye contact.

“Ah, who would’ve thought Jaden’s little sister would be such a slut. I bet daddy wouldn’t be happy to find out his little girl wears these.” He wraps his hand around the panties and subtly pockets them into his baggy black jeans.

“If I were really a slut then you’d be the first to know about it.” The words slipped out as you turned away from him.

“What?” He grabbed you by the wrist and turned you back around. “What do you mean by that?”

“I’ve never even been with one guy, let alone enough to make me a slut.” You admitted coyly, regretting the words as soon as they came out.

“You really are a good girl, aren’t you?” His gaze is so intense you worry your knees might buckle. “Something’s gonna have to be done about that.”

His fingers trace your collarbone as he takes one last look into your helpless eyes before turning around, smirking to himself as he leaves the room. You sigh a breath of relief at his absence, trying not to pay too much attention to the growing wetness between your thighs. This was not going to bode well for your vow of chastity.

Wait a minute, did he take your panties?

Next Chapter

#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin x you #anakin x reader #anakin fanfiction #star wars anakin #sw anakin #Hayden Christensen smut #sam monroe #life as a house #star wars smut #star wars fanfiction #sam monroe x reader #Hayden Christensen x reader #anakin fluff #anakin Skywalker fluff #Hayden Christensen fluff

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raz-writes-the-thing · 1 year ago

Text

New Years (Broadchurch One-Shot)

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: Neither of you have had a New Years kiss before- it's time that changed.

BROADCHURCH: @clarina04 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @yeethaw13 @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

New Years holidays had never really been your thing, to be completely honest. The booze, the drugs, the partying- and don’t even get you started on how horrible the fireworks were for the environment and the poor animals.

But this year was different. Sure, yes, you still weren’t a fan of the booze, drugs and fireworks, but this year you had Alec, who had promised to do his best for you. New Years was less a holiday for cops and more like overtime. The amount of stupidity out on the streets and driving around ensured that cops didn’t get to celebrate like everyone else. He’d had to fight for it, but he’d gotten there eventually.

But Alec had done you a solid this year and applied for the time off. It was your first year as a couple this year, and you were excited to spend it together without his phone going off to call him into the office- which was becoming increasingly common lately with the crimes stacking up in Broadchurch.

But tonight it was a no phones policy or you’d yeet it out the window into the snow never to be seen again and Alec knew it, too.

It was a nice evening cuddling in front of the TV and catching up on some of your shows together. You were several episodes behind on Mad Men and were desperate to see how that was going to end this season.

As it got closer to midnight, though, you found yourself thinking that maybe you would actually like to experience a little of that New Years energy that everyone was always going on about.

“Would you dance with me?” You asked him suddenly, interrupting his focus on the television.

Alec stumbled over his response for a moment before settling and agreeing, standing up to move out into the clearer dining area. You grinned at him and changed the channel to the local countdown. You muted the television and put some soft music on to sway too.

Alec took your hand and your waist, the warmth of his hand bleeding through your shirt.

“Bit out of the blue, love,” he said, shuffling a little closer. You shrugged and held on a little tighter.

“Yeah, I just- I’ve not really done the New Years thing before but I wanted to do something small with you. New Years kiss, some dancing, you know.”

“Truth be told, I’ve never really done the New Years thing either,” he responded, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes, feeling such an overwhelming sensation of peace. “Never saw the appeal,” he continued, twirling you around his arm softly. “But y’ken- I’ve never had someone special as you t’share it with like this.”

Your cheeks blushed the lightest shade of pink and you giggled.

“Someone special, hey?” You asked. You would have elbowed him if your hands hadn’t been in his and on his shoulder.

“Yeah.” His voice was so soft and quiet it was a wonder you even heard it.

A flash on the television behind you caught your eye. You looked over to see the one-minute countdown starting. You chewed on your lip. All of a sudden you were nervous- why were you nervous?

Alec chuckled and gave you another twirl.

“Another year ‘a this shite, eh? Who wouldn’t want t’share that wi’ y’er, darlin’?”

You had to tamp down your smile. Forty-four seconds left.

“Another year of this? Sign me up, my love,” you replied giddily, resisting the urge to kiss him right then and there. Thirty-two seconds left.

“Y’might come to regret that,” he chuckled, slowly coming to a stop and cupping your chin with his hand. The way he was looking at you was so intensely affectionate it was hard to keep eye contact with him. Thirteen seconds left.

“Never,” you replied breathily as he leaned in. A statement but also a promise. Your eyes flicked to the television briefly.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

Faint cheering could be heard from the town centre, fireworks popping in the distance. Loud music only just managing to reach Alec’s place. But your brain was drowning all of that out, focussed only on his lips on yours. A first for both of you and a promise of commitment.

A promise you both intended to keep for much longer than a meagre twelve months.

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hannahssimblr · 7 days ago

Text

We surface eventually, and clamber down the back stairs and out into sharp morning light, squinting against the sun. I feel like a vampire. My friends’ faces are gaunt and drawn, eyes still black. They look like they’ve been dead for a week.

Except Jen, sober Jen, who smiles sleepily and stretches her arms, breath condensing in the cold air. “God, that was mad,” she says. “What time is it?”

“Eight,” I say. Being out in the daylight like this is always weird, with families walking around, people going to work, while we are like creatures who have dug our way out of the earth, lurching toward home amongst the living. My mouth is so dry, and my jaw hurts. I foresee an afternoon spent throwing up, head in the toilet bowl, groaning as Jonas hammers on the door, appealing to my sense of humanity by reminding me there’s only one bathroom in the apartment.

“Oh, well, I should probably pack my bags and stuff.” Jen says.

I rub my eyes. “Oh, your flight.”

“Oh, Jen,” Dalia says with a big sad face, “I wish you could stay,” they hug, and rock each other side to side. “Please, come back and visit. This was so fun.”

“I swear!” Jen says. “I love you guys. Come see me in Dublin!”

“Don’t make them go there,” I say, to which she laughs. “Actually, yeah. Never mind. I’ll come back here! And for longer!”

“Please!” Elias and Dalia cry in unison, and then we leave, trudging toward the train station.

She snoozes on my shoulder on the U-Bahn, while Jonas and I, wired, wide awake, stare at our reflections in the window all the way back to Kreutzberg.

I lie on my bed, eyes on the cracks on the ceiling, while Jen shoves things into her suitcase. She’s cleaned off all her makeup, leaving black smudged wiped crumpled on the surrounding floor.

“This was so fun,” she’s saying. “I had such a good time. I mean, last night was amazing. Did you see I kissed that girl with the fan?”

“The fan?”

“Yeah, she was carrying this weird, lacy fan. Anyway, she was dead pretty. I wish I’d gotten her number.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I tried, but she didn’t speak English. There was no point.”

“So you didn’t speak before you starting kissing her.”

“No, we didn’t need to. I just met her eyes across the dancefloor and we both knew.”

“Ah, nice.”

The mattress shifts under her weight, and her face slides into my vision, pink cheeked, with eyeliner still smudged in the spaces between her lashes. “You’re coming down.”

“Yep.”

“Poor Judie. Rough day ahead.”

“Honestly, it’ll probably be a few days. A week, even.”

“Oof. Do you do this a lot?”

“Too much, probably.”

“Oh well,” she plonks back down to the rug and continues shoving things into her case. “At least I know you’re having fun over here. I’d be worried you’re suffering.”

“Do you worry about that?”

“Kind of.”

I laugh gently. “No, Jenny. I’m not suffering. Things are good.”

She struggles with the zip, and it rasps lowly against the bulk. “I was worried I wouldn’t like your friends, you know. I’m glad I met them, because they’re amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I wish they were my friends. Jonas is adorable. Elias too, so fun, and Dalia is probably the coolest girl I ever met in my life. I never got to ask her what part of America she comes from.”

“Pittsburgh.”

“I dunno where that is.”

“Nowhere close to where I grew up.”

“You sound different when you talk to her.”

Turning my head is an effort, and the room lurches a little. Later, I’ll probably be so dizzy that standing up feels like getting off the waltzers. “How so?”

“Your accent gets more American. Did you know that?”

“No.”

“Well, it does. I suppose when you’re talking to someone from the states you kind of copy what they’re doing, or something. It’s just funny, because you weren’t like that at home.”

“With dad?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s not like I really talk to him, is it?”

She pauses thoughtfully. “Well, I’ve heard you say ‘okay’ to him a few times.”

“Hm,” I say. “Well, maybe I’ll lose my Irish accent while I’m here.”

“Would you like to?”

I shrug. “Sure.��

I shut my eyes in the hopes it will stave off the wave of dizziness that comes over me. My temples throb gently with the onset of a headache. I half listen as Jen goes on about how great my friends are, Jonas, Elias, Dalia. Perhaps she’s hoping I won’t notice who she has left out, but she is wrong.

“What did you think of Astrid?” I say, and she pauses, just for a beat, before answering with enormous enthusiasm.

“Oh, she’s gorgeous. You were right. Even better in person than in the pictures.”

“Yeah.” I roll on my side. “She’s incredible looking, I know, but… like, did you like her?”

“Of course I did.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s so nice.”

I hesitate. Astrid isn’t that nice. At least it’s not a word I would use to describe her ahead of something like intelligent, confident, shrewd. Out of all the traits she has that I admire, I couldn’t say her niceness is something that sticks out. It’s not important to me, and I require it from her. Nice isn’t untrue, exactly, but it's not a real answer.

“Your opinion is really important to me,” I say, and she busies herself in her backpack, double checking for her phone charger and passport.

“No, I mean it,” she says distractedly. “She seems to care a lot about you, and that’s the main thing, you know what I mean?”

On my elbow now, I look at her, pulling things out of her bag and shoving them back in, and my anxiety rises. I wanted our dinner to go a little better, sure, and they could have hit it off more than they did, but Astrid is Astrid. She’s a tough nut to crack at the first meeting. It takes a while for her to warm up, to get comfortable. She takes some getting used to.

“I know things were a bit awkward there, when we were talking about school, and she didn’t have anything to say and all that.”

She waves this off. ‘No, it’s fine. She didn’t have to say anything. I was more worried about whether we were annoying her by talking about it so much.”

“I doubt it.”

“It’s alright, like, she doesn’t need to have the same humour as me.”

I frown. “Well, you and I have the same humour. In fact, we’re so alike that I thought you’d get along with her.”

“We got along.”

“But you weren’t bowled over.”

She sighs, “Jude, don’t make me talk myself into an awkward position.”

“I’m not doing that. I’m just wondering what you thought.”

“Yeah, but it’s like you’re not accepting my answer.”

“You haven’t answered.”

“I have. I said she’s nice.”

“Yeah, but like, ‘nice’ is a non-answer.”

“She’s not what I expected, right? But there’s nothing wrong with that. I just always thought you’d prefer to go out with a girl that laughed at the same things as you, or was silly and goofy, or, I don’t know, less… severe. I’ll meet Astrid again, and I’m sure I’ll be bowled over. We just didn’t have a lot of time to get to know each other. It was only a few hours, and, I dunno, Jonas was there too, and I was talking to him, mostly.”

“I–” I decide to ignore the first part about the girls I supposedly like. “Well, I hope so. I’d be pretty sad if my girlfriend and my best friend didn’t get along.”

“Everyone is friendly here.”

“Right.”

“I can tell you don’t believe me.”

I sigh reluctantly, and fall back onto the bed. My headache makes my brain slosh against the inside of my skull. “Jenny, I do. I believe you,” I say. “And I’m glad you like her. It’d be really fucking shit for me if you didn’t.”

“Well, I do.”

“I’m glad.”

“Good.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2011 #sorry for late post I’m painting a ceiling lol #sims 4 story #ts4 #sims 4 #sims 4 storytelling #sims storytelling #sims story #simblr #simblr story

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iznaekkoya · 1 month ago

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secrets ~ bang jeemin

1111 words, rated G

tags: friends to lovers, secret pining, happy ending

You and Jeemin, for all the many years you’ve been friends, are still allowed your personal secrets. This isn’t the movies––you don’t have to tell each other absolutely everything, and having secrets isn’t inherently harmful.

Like when you had that hipster blog in middle school where you painstakingly curated a feed of girls in cozy flannels or denim, pictures of beautifully arranged cups of coffee and tea, of tastefully blurry sunflowers with four or five different filters layered on top of each other. Jeemin could never––can never––know about it, because you’d never hear the end of it. She would probably think it’s a cute relic of the past, but then every artisanal coffee shop and infinity scarf you see will come with a pinch on the cheek and a reminder of something you’d like to stay dead and buried, thank you. Fall time would be miserable.

Or that time that you almost crashed your mom’s car trying to drive to the store in the middle of the night before you got a license. Jeemin didn’t need to know where that ice cream came from, not when she looked so excited to suddenly have a pint of cookie dough.

All of this to say, secrets are normal. Healthy, even.

That’s what you’re telling yourself, anyway, since the thought of her figuring out your massive crush on her is life-shatteringly embarrassing.

“Y/N,” She hums, holding up two different blazers in the mirror. “Which of these two would you say is more business formal?”

Heat rushes to your face. “I don’t even know what that means. How is that different from regular business wear?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping you might have a clue, because I was prepared to show up to the interview in that red dress with some kind of cardigan. I mean, I’m glad I saw their message about attire being business formal before I left, but now I feel like I’m overthinking it,” she huffs, dropping down into the desk chair behind her and rolling closer to where you sit on her bed.

The red dress looks amazing on her. You’d hate for a bunch of stuffy office workers to get to see it and not fully appreciate how radiant she looks in it, how that shade of red isn’t too orange or too blue, and how it brings out the warmth in her eyes. Not that you can say any of that.

Instead, you say, “Definitely not the red. Maybe just a blazer over some kind of collared shirt, and a pencil skirt? That’s how all the girls on Suits dress.”

Jeemin giggles into her hand. “Not sure if I should be taking fashion advice from the legal malpractice show.”

“Megan Markle looks so good in it, though.”

“Yeah, but I’m not trying to appeal to any workplace romance fantasies. Just want to do my job, get paid and leave.”

Thank God, you think, stewing with jealousy over just the thought of some random coworker making moves on her. You’re no stranger to watching people flirt with and date Jeemin over the years, and it’s never gotten any easier. Not when so many of them just liked her because she’s pretty, and didn’t take the time to get to know her as a person. Jeemin is so much more than just pretty, and you’re sick of people tossing her to the side once they realize the fantasy of her wasn’t enough to keep them interested. It drives you crazy.

“Y/N?” Jeemin asks, wheeling over and poking you in the thigh. “Are you okay?”

“Hm?” You can feel your cheeks reddening. “Oh, yeah. Sorry. Just thinking about you having workplace romance. I don’t think you’re the type, honestly.”

“You’re right. I’ve always preferred having a preexisting bond with my partners. Plus, it would be too much, having to see my girlfriend at work and at home. We’d never get a break from each other, it’d be exhausting.”

Are you hearing that right? Since when? Jeemin went on so many blind dates, used the dating apps more than any person you know for years––she only deleted them a few months ago, and that was just because of one too many bad dates. Where is this coming from?

“I didn’t know that,” is what you choose to say, after much deliberation. “I always thought you preferred to keep them separate.”

“Nah,” she says, desk chair spun so she can rest her elbows on the foot on the bed. Her forearm knocks into your thigh. “I’m over that. It took a while, but I realized I would only consider dating someone if they were a friend first.”

You chose a little bit at that. Through what you’re hoped are well-masked coughs, you fight to keep this little nugget of conversation going, hoping to prod further.

“Did something change your mind?”

Her gaze rakes down your body, sending chills up your spine. “Someone, yeah.”

Another cough wracks through you, this one unable to be concealed. You can only hope now that your face isn’t embarrassingly red. “Oh,” you say, through coughs. “Is that so?”

“Mhm,” she says, using your knees as an anchor as she slides the chair to be directly in front of you, leaning forward. Being on the bed, you have a lot of height on her, but it doesn’t matter. This is Bang Jeemin, her very existence can send you into a panic under the right circumstances. “Do you want to ask me who?”

“Do I?” you manage to spit out. You don’t know what to do with your hands.

“Don’t play dumb,” she says. Now she’s getting out of the chair to loom over you, which makes you infinitely more nervous. “Ask me who.”

“Uhh…” you say, dumbstruck. “Who?”

You know the answer. It feels like some kind of fever dream, but you’re not that obtuse.

Instead of an answer, you get a kiss. You’ve spent enough nights dreaming about it to know that her mouth would feel incredibly warm on yours, but her slightly chapped lips take you at first by surprise, but becomes what pulls you in more. The reality of it: the imperfection as you two find your rhythm, mouth gently gliding together like two slightly worn but connected puzzle pieces. It’s amazing, and it’s over too soon.

“You’re terrible at keeping a secret, y/n.” She cups a hand against your warm cheek, noticeably cool. “You always get so red.”

You just laugh, and bury your face in her tank top. “Shut up,” you say, not meaning it.

She hums for a moment, pretending to consider it.

“Make me.”

#bang jeemin #bang jeemin x reader #jeemin x reader #izna x reader #izna #iland2 #hey queue got that drip #jamie's writings

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sepublic · 2 months ago

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So thanks to @coulrology the revelations on Osran knowing Kikimora’s mother and helping her get into the Emperor’s Coven (and there being ‘resentment’ from this) are driving me insane because what happened during Follies at the Coven Day Parade?????

Did Osran have any thoughts about Kikimora’s mother telling her to abandon her duties to go visit??? After all, HE wouldn’t dare to do that, and of course he’s a Coven Head who genuinely matters for the Day of Unity whereas Kikimora is just another interchangeable tool (Ignore that Osran canonically has an unseen replacement sshhhhh). Did Kikimora consider going to Osran, having him vouch for her since he’s a senior?

Dana mentions ‘resentment’ which makes me wonder if Kikimora feels humiliation at having to rely on Osran, on ‘owing’ him a favor perhaps. So maybe she never brought this up to Osran for this exact reason, it’d be a second favor. Kikimora definitely likes to rely on her connections, but it points to a paradoxical self-loathing at having to depend on others, on not being the one in charge and pulling the strings. She wants to manipulate, not beg!

And I guess Kikimora’s mother never brought it up to Osran, Hey you got her into this job, tell her to leave it! Probably because she was talking to Kiki herself the whole time, no need right? Does Osran feel any resentment himself, did he feel he ‘owed’ one to Kiki’s mom and sees Kikimora as just a nepo baby he helped create? So seeing Kikimora struggle because she never earned it and is still beholden to her mother who actually got her that is like. His cruel vindication. Maybe she should leave and Osran just bluntly tells Kikimora to do so, furthering her breakdown and desperation to (initially) accept Luz’s help.

Osran was basically confirmed to come from the same hand as Kikimora, which does ruin my little gag I always had in mind of her appealing to him over this, only for Ozzy to flatly correct her, “I’m from the right hand.” AKA the Bonesborough area. Titan, what did they feel about Palm Stings being displaced, being made colder than the Knee because of Belos? Did Kikimora and her mother have to move out, or did they adapt the way witches can somehow live on the side of the Knee?

The ecological devastation must be insane; I bet Kikimora soothes herself knowing she basically single-handedly ruined Belos’ entire work of centuries, when he could’ve been nicer to her. It was her actions that led to him wasting away for months in agony and humiliation, building himself back up just to start falling apart when his regeneration reached its limit. I bet that made her feel REAL good.

But yeah, we know now that Kikimora is stuck doing community service via physical labor; Or maybe it’s not even community service, it’s just a regular job because her outfit may or may not be a uniform. Did she have her mother come back to her, asking for help? Did Osran ever meet up with Kikimora and attempt to talk her down, subdue her, feel some responsibility because maybe she wouldn’t have gone so far if he hadn’t gotten her into the coven to begin with?

On the other hand, as I’ve said; Kikimora actually ended up being the lynchpin, which must’ve been an empowering realization that she unfortunately took the wrong lesson from in attempting to become a shadow empress during the Collector’s reign. Did Osran ever think to himself, Wow I helped save the Boiling Isles! He’s not seen vying for power like Terra, Adrian, and Vitimir are; It could point to him actually caring about the isles on some basic level.

So maybe in contrast to Kikimora, Osran uses this feeling of importance for good; He decides to help the CATTs rebuild the Boiling Isles into a democratic society, hence the Boiling Isles Council. I don’t recall anyone or anything saying that Raine, Darius, and Eberwolf are the only members, maybe Osran is among them. But maybe he isn’t because he’s old and retired, happy to know that maybe he ultimately undid more damage than he caused as a coven ehad.

Though, he might certainly mourn the damage he indirectly caused to Palm Stings; But given the alternative was Belos committing genocide, a displaced landmass is tolerable. But does Kikimora care? Or did she renounce her home like she renounced the family that lived there? I would not put it past her…

Augh this reminds me of a Post-Hoot where they mentioned a scrapped concept for S3 of the protagonists wandering a desert in Abomination mechs; And we know Kikimora has Roka, AND she comes from a desert. That’s a glimpse into a Kikimora storyline, and probably Osran too; And probably Blight Industries because of the use of mechs plural, and we know Kikimora got hers from Odalia. So maybe Odalia and/or Alador, and some of the Blight kids, would be there.

And Darius why not? He’s got ties to the Blights and might want to keep an eye on them and Kikimora and Osran; Esp Kiki since Raine seemed to clock her as a potential asset in the rebellion, which obviously proved to be good judgment. Imagine Raine telling Darius to keep an eye on Kikimora and Osran, esp if Osran is ultimately well-intentioned; And Darius melds an Abomination spy into one of the mechs, or even fuses with one of them to replace its goop components and hide within it! Haha, man…

#The Owl House #The Owl House Osran #The Owl House Kikimora #Speculation

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purrincess-chat · 6 months ago

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In Breakable Heaven CH1

It's @ladrienjune yall!

And I know what you're all thinking

But I finally wrote something! One chapter of a thing. For now, but more will be coming, I promise! As I mentioned previously, I am moving for the next couple weeks, but I will hopefully have some down time to write here and there. I also still need to plan the ending for this fic, but shhhhh that's future Cat's problem ;) Anywho, here's the beginning of a Ladrien secret-dating adventure. Enjoy~

This chapter covers days 6, 7, and 8 (social media, jealousy, and biggest fan respectively).

Read on AO3

Rating: G

Summary:

When Adrien wins a contest on the Ladyblog, he catches the attention of Ladybug herself and scores more than just an opportunity to hang out with her. Caught in a fever dream high, the two lovebirds try to navigate their budding relationship away from the public eye and find that keeping secrets is a lot harder than they anticipated. Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes, what doesn't kill them makes them want each other more, and they'll do whatever it takes to stay in breakable heaven.

Chapter 1

“You Play Stupid Games, You Win Stupid Prizes”

“Alright, Bugheads, now onto the big announcement! With summer holidays coming up, I thought it would be a fun time to host a little contest, and ask the question: How well you know our resident superheroine? I’ve created a quiz that only the most die-hard fans will be able to pass because the stakes on this one are high. The person with the highest score will get to spend an afternoon with Ladybug! And don’t worry, this was approved by the head bug herself! Details for entry are listed below. Best of luck to all of you, and don’t forget to stay connected!” Alya’s cheery lilt ended on Adrien’s computer screen, and he leaned back in his chair.

“A whole afternoon with Ladybug?” He swooned.

“What’s the big deal? You already spend every afternoon with her.” Plagg hovered over Adrien’s head with a wedge of cheese.

“Yeah, when we’re fighting bad guys,” Adrien said pointedly. “She never wants to spend time with me outside of work. This could be my chance to finally see a movie with her.”

“What’s the appeal of seeing a movie anyway? You just sit next to each other in silence for several hours. The only plus is the buttery popcorn with its salty, crunchy, oily goodness...” Plagg shoved the cheese into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. “On second thought, why don’t you and I go see a movie? I’m much better company.”

Adrien rolled his eyes and clicked the leaderboard in the comments of Alya’s post. Someone had already gotten a decently high score on the quiz, only a few points away from perfect. A few scrolls down, the same username popped up again, and Adrien’s grip tightened on his mouse.

ladybugsfuturebf: Good luck beating my score! Only Ladybug herself could score higher. Can’t wait to spend one-on-one time with her on our date!

“Who does this guy think he is? A date? Ladybug’s future boyfriend? Before me?” Adrien scoffed.

“Need I remind you, the contest is to win a chance to hang out with her, not date her,” Plagg said.

What kind of flowers do you think she likes? Oh, wait! I already answered that on the quiz! She’s gonna be so impressed she’ll forget all about Chat Noir.

Adrien’s teeth ground together. There was no way such a boastful, arrogant person was in the lead. And forget about him? Please, he was Ladybug’s best friend! No one knew her better than him. He could ace that quiz in no time.

“What are you doing?” Plagg sighed as Adrien clicked the entry form.

“Oh, come on, Plagg. I can’t let that guy win! If anyone is going to win a date with Ladybug, it’s me! I know her better than anyone,” Adrien said.

Plagg floated down in front of his face. “And you don’t think it’s going to be a problem if you get a perfect score? Let’s just broadcast to the world that you’re Chat Noir!”

“I’m not that dense, Plagg.” Adrien waved him out of the way. “I’ll sign up with a fake email and username. No one will ever know Adrien Agreste won.”

Pursing his lips, he tapped the keys of his keyboard in thought on the account creation screen. He needed something inconspicuous, but not too mysterious. Something that wouldn’t be surprising when Chat Noir revealed himself as the winner, but also, not something that would be a dead giveaway that it was him. He didn’t want Ladybug to disqualify him for cheating. Besides, he wasn’t really cheating. There were no rules that her best friend and partner couldn’t enter…

He’d keep it simple but on brand — thecatsmeow had a nice ring to it, and it was surprisingly not taken. Now that his account was squared away, he just had to pass the quiz. 40 questions? Piece of cake.

What is Ladybug’s favorite color? Easy, pink.

Favorite musical artist? Jagged Stone.

Eye color?

It was almost sad how easy the questions were, and before he knew it, he’d finished. Adrien sat back as the site tabulated his score, and Plagg came to a rest on the top of his chair. A perfect score flashed on the screen, and Adrien shot up with a whoop.

“Yes! Take that ladybugsfuturebf!” he cheered.

“Don’t you think Ladybug is going to be mad when she finds out you won?” Plagg asked.

“Oh, come on. If anything, this just proves how much I pay attention. She’ll be impressed that I know her so well,” he said. At Plagg’s skeptical expression, Adrien sat back down. “And she’s not going to have a choice because I won fair and square.”

“You’re delusional.” Plagg floated off.

Adrien shrugged it off, smiling at his username at the top of the leaderboard. He was finally going to get that movie date with Ladybug! Nothing was going to sour his mood.

***

The next day, Adrien arrived at school as usual, shutting the door to his silver town car without a second thought. After winning the date with Ladybug, he was on cloud nine, imaging how romantic it would be in the dark theater. Maybe he’d pick a horror movie and hold her when she got scared. Oh! And their hands could brush as they both reached for popcorn at the same time! Entering the contest was the best idea he’d ever had.

“There’s no way it’s not him. Chat Noir totally won the contest,” Alya said as he entered the classroom.

Adrien stopped in his tracks. Okay, maybe not his best idea, but it was fine because he used a fake account. There was no way they traced it back to him.

None of them paid him any mind as he took his seat beside Nino, who was tapping his chin in thought.

“But why would Chat Noir need to enter a contest to spend time with Ladybug. He spends like the most time with her out of everyone,” Nino said.

“It’s so obvious. He’s been trying to get her to go to the movies with him for like ever, and now she has to say yes,” Alya said.

“Shouldn’t that be against the rules or something?” Marinette asked. “I mean, they spend so much time together, of course he’d know all the answers.”

“I’m willing to allow it because I think it’s really funny, and I don’t mind being Chat Noir’s wing woman.” She shrugged.

“Alya!” Marinette gasped.

“What? I want them to get together. Sue me.” Alya giggled.

“Hey, didn’t all the contestants have to have valid accounts to enter? What’s the name on the email address for the username that won?” Nino asked.

Adrien stiffened.

“Way ahead of you,” Alya said. “I looked right after the results posted, but the email is registered to an obvious alias, which further proves that it’s Chat Noir. He wouldn’t use his real name. He may not always look it, but he’s a smart cat.”

He wasn’t sure if he should be offended by that statement or not.

“Dang, would have been cool if we learned who he was,” Nino said.

Adrien breathed a sigh of relief when they let it drop. Everything was fine, and Alya wasn’t going to disqualify him. He could already taste the popcorn!

“Ya know,” it was Max who spoke up, having stopped midway up the stairs to his desk upon overhearing their conversation, “if you’re interested in knowing who the account really belongs to, I can track the IP address.”

Adrien’s heart shot up to his throat.

“Wait, for real?” Alya perked up.

“That would be totally awesome!” Nino added.

Maybe it would be fine. His father paid for crazy firewalls to protect his design secrets. No way anyone could get through them… Right?

“I recently upgraded Markov’s tracking capacity. I can crack a low-grade military firewall and find an address with pin-point accuracy,” Max said.

Most of the time, Adrien was amazed at Max’s genius, but today he was terrified of it. Plagg was right, entering the quiz was a surefire way to get him caught!

“Guys, that’s an invasion of privacy! Besides, don’t you think it will be dangerous if it is Chat Noir? I mean, exposing his identity will lead Hawkmoth right to his door. You’re practically handing him his Miraculous,” Marinette, his sweet pig-tailed savior, said.

Adrien cleared his throat and turned around, “Yeah, Marinette’s right. I think it will cause more trouble than it’s worth.” For him specifically.

“Chill out, I’m not going to post it online or anything. I just think if we knew who he was we could help him. I can be the girl on the ground, and I can also give him tips to fix his pitiful attempts at flirting with Ladybug,” Alya said.

Pitiful! Oh, she was definitely getting snubbed next time she asked for an interview.

“Alya, it’s dangerous and wrong. Even if he entered the contest for selfish reasons, that doesn’t mean you can invade his privacy like that.” Marinette chided. “Promise me you won’t look into it. It would put all of you and him in danger.”

Alya pursed her lips, exchanging glances with Max and Nino before slumping in her seat.

“Fine, I won’t look into it,” she said.

“Good,” Marinette said as Mlle. Bustier entered and called for everyone to find their seats.

Adrien turned back around, breathing out a ragged sigh. That was close, but it had all worked out in the end. He’d have to stop by the bakery later and buy a caseload of chouquettes to thank Marinette. Her level-head really saved his hide.

As the day wore on, Adrien pushed the morning’s conversation from his mind, though he had a feeling Plagg would give him an earful about it later. It would all be worth it when he and Ladybug finally went on their date. Could he get cherry blossoms this time of year? They were just barely out of season, but he could probably pull a few strings.

He pulled out his phone to check as he entered the library, and he’d almost found a promising listing when he rounded the corner and found Alya and Max crowded around a laptop at a table. Ducking back behind the bookshelf, he strained his ears to listen.

“His firewall is surprisingly good, it may take me a while to crack,” Max was saying.

“But you can definitely get around it?” Alya asked.

“Of course, what do you take me for?” Max scoffed.

They were going through with it after all! Adrien’s heart sped up, his palms growing shaky and sweaty. He should go over to their table and call them out for going back on their word, but would it be suspicious if he got onto them? Why would he be so bent on keeping Chat Noir’s identity secret unless he was Chat Noir? This was bad! What should he do?

Adrien bolted from the library, peering out over the railing at the courtyard below. Marinette was sketching quietly on a bench, and he raced to her side. She looked up at him with wide eyes, recoiling back with a nervous smile, probably in response to how desperate and deranged he looked, but there was no time to worry about that.

“Marinette, we have to stop Alya and Max. They’re in the library trying to crack Chat Noir’s firewall right now!” He panted.

“What?” She abandoned her sketchbook on the bench and took the lead back up the stairs to the library.

She burst through the doors and stormed over to their table, and Adrien did his best to look supportive but not too panicked. Alya winced when she saw them, and Marinette placed her hands on her hips.

“So, you were just going to go behind my back and do it anyways?” She scoffed.

“I’m sorry, girl! But think of how much good we could do if we could team up and help him!” Alya said.

“Think of how much danger you’re putting yourselves in! If Hawkmoth finds out you know his identity, he’ll come after you and your families. What if one of you gets akumatized? You could get hurt. Chat Noir could get hurt or worse!” Marinette said.

“She’s right. You guys shouldn’t go through with this,” Adrien added.

“I’m almost through the firewall,” Max said.

“Call it off, Max!” Marinette ordered.

“Keep going! We’re so close!” Alya pleaded. She turned to Marinette and pressed her palms together. “Look, I know it’s risky, but what if we can help take down Hawkmoth? That’s worth the risk, right?”

“It’s not our job! We don’t have superpowers, and it can put us and the people we love in danger!” Marinette placed her hands on Alya’s shoulders. “Please, stop.”

“Girl, I know you’re scared for me, but I promise I’ll be careful. ‘All that’s necessary for the triumph of evil-”

“That doesn’t apply here!” Marinette shook her head.

“I made it through the firewall!” Max said. “A few more seconds, and I can tell you exactly where he lives.”

Marinette and Alya were at a stand-off, and every clack of Max’s keyboard was a nail in Adrien’s coffin. He didn’t have a choice, but if they were going to find out it was him, he was going to do whatever it took to convince them he wasn’t Chat Noir. He just hoped Ladybug didn’t think he was a total freak afterward.

“It’s me!” He blurted. When Marinette and Alya turned to him with quirked brows, he let out a sigh. “I’m the one who won the contest. I’m thecatsmeow.”

Max’s keyboard went silent, and he turned the screen to face them where Adrien’s home address was flashing. “He’s telling the truth.”

“Whoa, so you’re Chat Noir?” Alya grinned.

“No!” Adrien held up cautioning hands. “I’m just, uhh, I didn’t want my father to know I entered, so I used a fake profile. There’s no way he would have let me go if he knew about it.”

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Marinette asked.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck and averted his gaze. “I guess I was just embarrassed. I didn’t want any of you to think less of me.”

“I don’t think less of you!” Marinette assured him. “I-I mean, you won the contest fair and square, and you had every right to enter.”

Alya’s eyes narrowed, and Adrien shrank under her gaze.

“I’m still not entirely convinced. Ladybug and I made some of those questions crazy specific. How would you know she doesn’t like anchovies on her pizza, or that she likes lemon in her tea?” Alya crossed her arms over her chest.

“I… have a lot of money and free time.” He shrugged. “I got a bunch of drone cameras and spy equipment, and I watch her and Chat Noir all the time.” When everyone stared at him with wide eyes, he quickly added, “Not in a creepy way! I just admire her.”

“…You don’t know her identity, do you?” Marinette asked.

“No, of course not! I’d never do something like that.” Adrien shook his head. “I’m just…her biggest fan.”

Alya looked him up and down, her skeptical expression giving way to a smile. “You could have just said something. I mean, you know how freak-crazy I am about all of this. I would have understood.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just used to keeping a lot of my interests a secret because I have my father’s brand to consider — and my father to consider. If he knew what I was doing, he’d put an end to it immediately.” Adrien traced his thumb over his ring behind his back.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about us. Your secret’s safe.” Alya placed a hand on his shoulder with a wink. “Though, I may need to borrow your drone from time to time as payment.”

“Alya,” Marinette said in a warning tone.

“We’ll discuss the details later,” she said. “And if you ever want to talk Ladybug, I’m always here.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, letting his shoulders relax.

“Though, I am still a bit confused on your logic. I mean, you won the contest, so you were going to have to reveal it was you eventually to claim your prize. What was your plan there?” Alya quirked a brow.

“Uhh, wear a disguise?” Adrien said with a wince.

Alya threw her head back with a laugh. “Well, congrats on winning. I’ll pass the message on to Ladybug that you’re the winner, and we’ll arrange your prize soon.”

“Thanks,” Adrien said.

When the bell rang, Alya and Max packed up, and Adrien breathed a sigh of relief as they headed to their next class. That was way too close, but somehow, he’d managed to convince them. Plagg was going to scold him later.

Marinette fell into step beside him, tugging at her blazer.

“Um, congrats on winning,” she said. “I-I think it’s a good thing you won instead of some weirdo. I mean, if I was Ladybug, I’d be happy you won because it means we’d get to spend time together, and who wouldn’t want to spend time with you?”

Adrien smiled at her. “Thanks. I’m looking forward to hanging out with her. I admire her a lot,” he said. “And thanks for your help earlier.”

“N-n- Mmmhmm.” Marinette nodded.

She fell back to link up with Alya, and Adrien bit back a smile. It wasn’t exactly what he’d planned, but he still got to spend time with Ladybug either way. And who knew? Maybe there would be advantages to her going with Adrien Agreste instead of Chat Noir. At least this way, she couldn’t scold him. Besides, it didn’t matter to him which side she fell in love with, so long as it was him. He couldn’t wait for their date!

#miraculous ladybug #ladrien #ladrienjune2024 #day 6: social media #day 7: jealousy #day 8: biggest fan #my writing #adrien agreste #ladybug #tales of ladybug and cat noir #and yes cat is on her taylor swift bullshit with this one #this premise was actually a leftover from the eras fest i came up with a lot of ideas for different album eras #and this one is the lover era ;)

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crystalninjaphoenix · 3 months ago

Text

Vault Visit

A JSE Fanfic

SepticHeroes AU: Part 33

First Part | Previous Part | Read on AO3 at CrystalNinjaPhoenix

I bet you guys are wondering what's happening with JJ. Or at least I hope you are, he's a main character after all fhdjksalh Anyway, after a while of not checking on him, here's a chapter that mostly takes place from his point of view! JJ, still stuck in the Vault, continues his routine as normal. Mostly spending time with his new friend, Soren. But this routine is interrupted by a visit. I wonder who it's from, and what he wants :3c Anyway yeah prepare for further emphasis on how much the League of Heroes actually sucks >:)c Enjoy!

===============

Another day, and JJ’s headache had gotten worse again. He didn’t want to get out of bed, but he knew it would be bad to miss role call, so he rolled himself out and walked down to the gathering. If everyone in this prison was suffering from similar symptoms, or even worse, it was no wonder they all seemed so zombie-like. He wasn’t even fully aware of his surroundings until breakfast time. At which point the thought of eating made him nauseous. If the food was spiked with neutrinalin, would the side effects go away if he didn’t eat?

Soren was eating with him, though he hadn’t said much when JJ had sat down. Maybe the side effects were hitting him hard today, too. He looked across the table and saw JJ’s hesitation to eat. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said.

Do you? JJ asked.

“You’re thinking you can avoid feeling like shit if you don’t eat the drugged food.”

JJ smiled slightly. So I’m guessing that’s something people have tried? And it hasn’t gone well, has it?

Soren shook his head. “The neut will leave your system in about a day, so it seems like a good idea in theory. But the side effects will linger for a bit afterwards. Dunno how long, exactly—a couple more days, at least. Maybe longer.”

Has anyone tried to avoid eating and then make an escape attempt? JJ asked.

“I’ve never seen it, and no one I know has, either.” Soren bit his lip, thinking. “But there are stories of people who have. It didn’t go well, I think. None of the attempts. I mean, why would they? At that point you’re hungry, thirsty, and still feeling sick. You’d be easily overpowered even if your abilities were working at full force.”

JJ sighed. Well good to know. Still... He poked at the food with his spoon. Unflavored oatmeal, oh joy. Maybe things will be better if I just skip a meal. At least, less worse.

“Hm. Well.” Soren screwed his face up in doubt.

What? Are the guards going to get angry if I don’t eat? JJ glances around the room at the guards standing at each entrance.

“Yeah, they are.”

...what? Jameson hadn’t expected that answer. Why? I’m not starting a riot by skipping breakfast.

“But you might be plotting an escape attempt,” Soren said. “Like I just mentioned. Trying to avoid the League’s best friend in the food so your powers will come back and you’ll break out. That’s not acceptable to them.”

Jameson blinked. Are you fucking kidding me. So—they’ll just force you to eat their spiked food?

Soren laughed and leaned forward. “Fucked, isn’t it? It depends who’s on duty. I figure they all have instructions to check plates, but some take it more seriously than others. And are more... forceful about it.” His expression became shadowed. Almost... haunted. “Don’t... tell any of them I... said this.”

Of course not, JJ promised. He looked down at the food on his plate. It didn’t look any more appealing than it did before. But he forced himself to scoop some up and eat. A lull in conversation followed as the two of them tried to eat breakfast.

“Honestly even if you managed to get away with it, you have those cuffs,” Soren muttered. “They really don’t want you to get out.”

JJ paused. He pulled down his sleeve a bit so he could look at the pow-sup bracelet there. Sometimes he was able to forget they were there at all. Sometimes he couldn’t stop thinking about them. They were always a constant presence, the inch-wide, centimeter-thick metal. I noticed you don’t have any, he said. Most people don’t.

“Yeah, they only put them on the ones they think are really dangerous,” Soren said. A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Or whoever they’re most afraid of.”

I know you said that if you’re on good behavior, they might move your cell to another floor, JJ recalled. To somewhere less secure. Is the same true for these? He shook his hands, indicating the bracelets. Jazz hands.

Soren laughed. “Jazz hands! Jazz hands indeed.” He sighed. “I don’t think they will. The security risk is partly about your personality, you know. The cuffs are just about your powers. Or at least, that’s how I see them.”

JJ nodded. He turned his hands around, looking at the bracelets... and that’s when he noticed something that he hadn’t before. Or rather, he noticed a lack of something. How... How were these supposed to come off? There wasn’t a keyhole. Or a number pad for a code. Or a space for a fingerprint or anything. He knew the League had advanced tech, but—there would still be some sort of indication, wouldn’t there?

“Jameson?” Soren blinked, seeing JJ’s eyes get wide and his face drain of color. “What’s wrong?”

JJ’s eyes flicked up to him. He tried to sign something, but his hands were shaking so much that it came out incomprehensible.

“I-I didn’t quite catch that.”

Jameson tried to steady himself. I... don’t think... these are supposed to... come off.

“Huh?” Soren took a moment to process what Jameson meant. “Wait—they can’t be removed?!”

JJ shook his head. Tears sprang to his eyes, brought by panic and spurred on by his headache. Maybe there was some way to get them off that he couldn’t figure out—maybe it would be fine! And besides he knew he’d probably never get out of here, right?! So why did it matter?! Why did it matter?!

“Jameson? C-calm down.” Soren reached across the table, putting a hand on Jameson’s trembling shoulder.

They could just turn the cuffs on at any moment. Even if he made it out of here, even if someone miraculously took care of that technopath, even if—oh my god, could he turn on the cuffs?! He couldn’t control all technology but—these were probably connected wirelessly to something to control them. Could he use that connection?! No no no—he’s been forced to do enough for that electronic voice, he didn’t want him to have another way to control him!

“Jameson, calm down!” Soren stood up, leaning across the table. “You’re hyperventilating.” He grabbed his shoulders firmly. “Breathe with me, alright?” he said gently, and took a deep breath in.

But Jameson couldn’t focus enough to follow his example. The cuffs wouldn’t just suppress his powers, would they?! That was bad enough! But they were also magnetic, they’d snap together, meaning he couldn’t use his hands. What if he was busy doing something important when they snapped together?! What if he was on a ladder or something and he ended up falling?! Well he’ll never have the chance to be on a ladder while in prison, but still! Oh what if the magnets stuck to nearby metal? The walls were metal! Would he be stuck in place by the arms if he got close enough?! And what about this pow-sup energy anyway? Did it have the same side effects if he was affected by it long enough?! What if it had worse side effects?! What if—

“Jameson! JJ!” Soren shouted.

JJ gasped and looked at him, eyes filled with tears. He couldn’t—he couldn’t get enough air—

“You’re starting to sink,” Soren said, firmly but not unkindly. “Sinking into anxiety. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you need to try to pull yourself out.”

His hands were still shaking, but he tried to speak. I can’t.

“Do you want contact or not?” Soren asked. “Should I back up or get closer?”

Close, JJ said, hiccuping from the way he was hyperventilating.

Soren nodded. He raised a leg like he was going to try and climb over the table, but glanced at the guards and changed his mind. Instead he rushed around the end of the table and sat down on the bench next to JJ. “Are you okay with me putting an arm around you?” He asked. When JJ nodded, Soren did just that, wrapping an arm around Jameson’s shoulders and pulling him closer. “Breathe,” he whispered. “Focus on what’s really here. What you can see and touch.”

JJ nodded. He knew exercises to do during moments like this. He knew them, but it just felt like everything was crashing down on his head and he couldn’t think—

“You can hear my voice, can’t you?” Soren asked. “Listen to that. Listen to the way these words rise and fall. Remember to breathe. Try to control that. Breathe in while I count to seven. One, two, three—“ Jameson tried, but his controlled breathing fell apart quickly. “That’s okay. We’ll try again. One, two, three, fo—We’ll try again. One, two, three, four...”

After a while, JJ managed to get a hold of his breath. Enough that he didn’t feel like he was constantly out of breath, at least. Thank you, he signed shakily, vision still blurred with tears.

“Glad I could help.” Soren smiled warmly despite how tired he looked. “Now... what was the problem there? I know, it was that the cuffs don’t come off, but what specifically about that upset you? Was it that you were trapped?”

Jameson shook his head. I don’t know. I just... just... kept thinking about what if someone used them. Maybe I did feel trapped. I don’t know. Every so often as he signed he caught a glimpse of the metal cuffs flashing in the light.

“Well... yeah, that makes sense,” Soren said. “But... this is going to sound a bit harsh, but... there’s nothing we can do about that right now.” He heard JJ’s breath hitch. “That’s upsetting, I know. But we can’t get them off. There’s no way we can.”

Are you telling me to give up? JJ asked.

Soren shook his head. “No. I’m telling you to think about what you can do instead of worrying about what you can’t. If someone decides to turn on the cuffs, you can’t make them stop. You don’t have your powers.” Soren smiled again. “You can figure out how to deal with it when it happens. Your brain is trying to come up with solutions ahead of time, but all that’s making you do is feel afraid and worried. Take a step back.”

I don’t want to... JJ took a shuddering breath. I don’t want to be unprepared.

“Of course, but if you push yourself into a panic like that you’re not really being prepared,” Soren said. “You’re just... well, panicking. This is a bad situation, I’m not denying this. But if you freak out—if we freak out—then we can’t do anything, you know? We’re frozen, letting the fear control us. We’re already dealing with a lot, constant panic will just make everything worse.”

JJ didn’t say anything. He just thought about what Soren was saying. Then he nodded. I suppose you’re right... anxiety isn’t helpful here. He leaned farther against Soren, limp from all the energy he expended in his little freakout. Thank you.

“G-glad to help,” Soren said. His face... was it a little red? Seeing it made JJ feel his face get a bit hotter too.

I’ve had a question for a while, JJ said. Are we... allowed to visit each other’s cells?

“Well... it depends on who’s on guard,” Soren said slowly. “But in general, it’s easier to visit someone on your own floor, or a higher one. You’re... probably not going to be able to visit someone on a lower floor.”

JJ nodded understandingly. If you ever need anything, maybe you could try coming up to visit me, then? Or... if you just want to... want to try.

Soren inhaled sharply. “Yeah... maybe I’ll... I’ll try that. If it’s some of the nicer guards on duty.”

The two of them finished breakfast without saying much else.

===============

“Prisoner 3117.” Thump!

JJ started awake. He’d been dozing absentmindedly on the cot in his cell, trying to get some rest but not fully succeeding. He just kept passing in and out of consciousness, until there was a sudden loud sound nearby. He rolled over and looked towards the cell door. It was open. A man in the blue-and-black uniform of a prison guard stood there, two more guards visible behind him. Did one of them hit the wall or something?

“Stand up,” the guard in the doorway said.

What was happening? Did he sleep past roll call in his daze? JJ sat up, and his head immediately started pounding. He winced, pressing a hand to the spot where it hurt the most.

“Stand up,” the guard repeated.

He was going to, jeez. You’d think that the guards would be used to their prisoners acting listless. JJ pushed himself to his feet, swaying for a moment, then looked over at the guards.

“Come on.” The guard gestured for him to come over. “You have a visitor.”

A visitor? Who was it? He could only think that it was one of his friends. Schneep, maybe? But would Schneep risk coming to a League prison when he was, himself, a criminal? It was probably Jackie, actually. A possibility it was Chase. He couldn’t see Marvin getting anywhere close to the Vault, since he was so paranoid about his identity being discovered—paranoid for good reason, of course. Yeah, it was probably Jackie. That was the simplest explanation. Interrogating a villain seemed like something he’d have to do as a Hero.

He walked over to the cell door as he wondered this. The guard in the doorway stepped back, gesturing for JJ to walk ahead of him. JJ did so, and the two other guards stepped up on either side of him. They were ready to grab him if he tried anything, he could tell. Not that he was able to ‘try anything.’ He was exhausted. His attempted nap had made him more tired, ironically enough. Even if he got desperate, the guards would be able to easily overpower him. They wouldn’t even need to turn on the pow-sup bracelets on his wrists.

The guards guided him through a door he hadn’t been through since he arrived here. The heavily-guarded doorway into the set of long, winding hallways that would eventually lead to the prison’s entrance. He couldn’t clearly remember the way to the front, but that didn’t matter, did it? He wasn’t going to escape anytime soon, even though all the neutrinalin side effects were making this place a hell to live in. He couldn’t escape. He didn’t want to think what the robotic voice would do to Dahlia if he left against its wishes.

After a while of walking, they entered a room divided in half by glass. Or... it probably wasn’t actually glass. It was probably some sort of bulletproof plastic. A table sat right in the middle of the room, divided in half by the glass as well. JJ had seen this sort of setup in enough crime TV shows. He could figure out how it worked. Jackie would sit in the chair on the other side of the glass, while he sat in the one on this side, and they would talk. The shows usually had a phone system, but clearly it was different here.

“Sit.” One of the guards pushed him forward. JJ stumbled, but regained his balance and walked over to the chair. He didn’t fail to notice how the legs were bolted into the floor. “Lean back,” the guard said, walking over.

JJ did so. The guard pressed a button, there was a beep, and then a pair of metal cuffs appeared, holding JJ’s ankles to the chair. Another, larger one shot out from the back of the chair, wrapping around his waist, right at the bottom of his ribcage.

“Since you can’t talk, your hands are free for your... sign language,” the guard said. JJ couldn’t see his face, but he could practically hear the doubt in his voice. “Consider yourself lucky. The first sign of anything suspicious and we’ll rush right in.” He chuckled. “If he doesn’t put you in your place first.”

Jameson blinked, confused. Wait, was his visitor not one of his friends? Obviously, he couldn’t ask any clarifying questions. The guards were leaving, their backs to him, so they wouldn’t see his sign even if they knew BSL in the first place—which he doubted they did. So... all he could do was wait.

Luckily, he only had to wait a minute. A door on the other side of the glass opened up, and in walked—oh, so it was Jackie after all. What did the guard’s comment about the visitor ‘putting him in his place’ mean, then? Did the guard just assume Jackie would beat JJ up if he tried to escape? Well... clearly he didn’t know anything about Jackie. But it was telling that the guard assumed a Hero would do that. JJ just wasn’t sure what it, specifically, was ‘telling’ about.

Jackie paused soon after he walked into the room. Even with the white lenses of his mask, JJ could tell his eyes were locked on him. An expression of total shock on his face. Did he look that different since the last time Jackie saw him? Jackie looked exactly the same to him... didn’t he? Maybe... maybe his face was a bit narrower. Had he been eating enough?

After a moment, Jackie hurried over and sat down at the chair. JJ heard the scrape of its legs against the floor—so that one wasn’t bolted down. Of course it wasn’t. Jackie cleared his throat. “Um... can you hear me?” he asked.

JJ nodded. Jackie’s voice sounded a bit tinny. It was probably coming from an intercom.

“Right. Good.” Jackie cleared his throat. “I... wanted to... check on you. H-how are you doing?”

...how was he supposed to answer that?

After a moment of having his hands in the air, hovering awkwardly as he thought about what to say, JJ signed, As best as I can be, in this situation.

“Hah. Yeah... probably a dumb question.” Jackie nodded. “You, uh... you’re... eating alright? Do, uh... Does a place like this have somewhere you can get sunlight? Exercise?”

JJ nodded. There’s a courtyard. And there’s three meals a day. Not that he made much use of the exercise equipment out there. Not that he always ate everything on his plate.

“A courtyard?” Jackie blinked. “Well that’s good to hear. But what about people who can fly?”

There’s a net that covers the top of it. And besides, you know about the neutrinalin, don’t you?

“I, uh... yeah...” Jackie nodded slowly. “I knew that... prisons fed their superhuman prisoners neutrinalin. Um, but...” He hesitated, looking like he had something to say, but not sure how to say it. “You, um... look... You’re really pale, and...” He trailed off.

Jackie, JJ said. Did you... want to ask me something?

Jackie started in surprise. “Um, y-yeah. I... We know about the one who was blackmailing you. The police and everyone. It’s on the news and stuff.”

JJ started. So they found his emergency video tape after all. That was a last resort. He hadn’t even known if he would use it, not until Jackie had finally confronted him in the police station. God—did he know that JJ had recorded that video? JJ glanced around looking for video cameras in the room. There had to be one!

“How we figured it out is secret,” Jackie said hurriedly. “A League secret. But we know about Anti-Virus.”

JJ laughed. Anti-Virus?

“What?” Jackie sounded suddenly defensive.

It just... seems so... I don’t know, giving him a cheesy name like that... makes it sound less... serious.

“He called himself that!” Jackie said. “In your—” He suddenly stopped, coughing. “Well, the message did have a little ‘haha’ on the end, so maybe he thought it was funny too.”

Ah... JJ remembered that part in the texts now that Jackie mentioned it. He caught it on the video. So... now what happens? he asks. You know about him, so now what?

Jackie hesitated again. “The plan is to get you out of here,” he said slowly. “After all, you’re not fully at fault for this. At the very least, you don’t need to be so highly guarded. But... it will take... a long time to get through the trial and all that.”

JJ blinked. Jackie didn’t exactly sound optimistic. Huh... if he got moved out of the Vault legally, would that anger him? What would he do to Dahlia? He tried to hide his sudden spike of fear. Well... that’s good, he said slowly.

“So, um...” Jackie cleared his throat. “Is there... anything you want to share about him? This Anti-Virus?”

Well, that would certainly anger Anti-Virus, sharing information about him. Though to be honest, JJ didn’t know all that much in the first place. What do you already know about him? JJ asked.

“He’s a technopath,” Jackie said. “One with the ability to manipulate software. You probably aren’t aware of this, but uh... there was a data leak from the League database. Anti-Virus was behind it. He doesn’t want us to investigate him.”

Yeah, that made sense. I don’t know who he is, JJ said slowly. He only ever contacted me through text, calls, and emails. And he deleted those afterwards.

Jackie sighed. “Yeah, that’s what I was worried about. Did he ever mention anything that might... give away who he really is?”

JJ shook his head. He couldn’t recall Anti-Virus telling him anything related to himself. Even when JJ tried to egg him on a couple times, the voice remained firm and the text remained businesslike. Only relating back to Jameson. What he wanted Jameson to do, what he would do if Jameson didn’t obey. A single-track mind.

“Any little thing could help,” Jackie insisted. “Do you know why he wanted to attack SepTech, for example? On the roof that day, he said something about wanting to control it, but is that the truth? Or... was he just creating a Puppeteer character for you to play?”

Jameson stiffened. He shook his head again. I’m sorry, I don’t know anything.

“...right.” Jackie nodded. “Of course. I don’t expect he’d want to tell you anything. Especially if he thought you’d get arrested.” He sighed and leaned forward. “...how are you doing, JJ? Really? I mean... y-you’re still my friend. Strangely enough, you were still my friend even when I thought you were the Puppeteer on your own free will. That’s why I couldn’t... couldn’t understand why you’d do that. So... I-I want you to be okay. Even... even in a situation like this.”

JJ blinked. Thank you, he said, signing slowly. I’m... fine. Could be better, but fine.

“Good. Good.” Jackie nodded. “Nobody’s giving you any trouble or anything?”

No, not at all. I’d even say I made some... friends.

“Friends?” Jackie blinked. “With villains?”

Well, yes... if that’s who’s in the prison, then that’s who’s available for me to talk to. Other villains.

“JJ, you’re not a—”

JJ shook his head, interrupting him. Yes I am. No matter what my motivations, I still did those things.

“But you—You’re a good person,” Jackie insisted. “You know that, right?”

Jameson tried to smile, but it wavered. Thank you for thinking so.

“You are,” Jackie continued. “You can’t think that you’re not. You had a good reason for doing what you did—I-I’m sure. We all know it. Schneep does, Chase and Marvin do. We all know.”

So... they all knew about Dahlia, then? Well, of course they did; if Jackie found his message, he found hers too.And of course he’d tell the others. Jameson hadn’t told Jackie, Chase, or Marvin about her for so long... were they angry that he hid his sister from them? Jackie didn’t seem mad, but he wouldn’t know for sure unless he was direct about it. And he didn’t want to be direct. But he couldn’t help himself from thinking about what he would say if Jackie asked about why he never told them he had a sister. Ever since she was kidnapped, even thinking about her hurt, there was no way he could’ve brought her up to them... not to mention them knowing about Dahlia could have been trouble if his secret as the Puppeteer got out.

Did the rest of the world know about Timekeeper, too? Or did his friends keep that part to themselves?

“JJ?” Jackie prompted.

Jameson shook himself out of the introspective daze he’d slipped into. Sorry, he signed.

“It’s fine,” Jackie said. “So... really, people have been... friendly in here?”

Not friendly exactly, JJ said slowly. I’m sure a lot of them don’t like me. But no one has the energy to do much. And a couple have been nice. I met someone, Soren—

“Who?” Jackie asked.

S-O-R-E-N, JJ said, spelling it out. He’d forgotten for a moment that Jackie wouldn’t know the name sign he gave Soren. You know him.

“I do?” Jackie leaned back. JJ could see the gears turning in his mind. “Wait—you mean—Pathos?”

JJ nodded. He wanted to know what had happened back home, and things... developed from there.

“I—I—” Jackie seemed to be at a loss for words. He let out a breath. “O...kay, then. That’s... a hell of a coincidence.” He shook his head. “Well, uh... is he... okay? Besides all the... the crimes.”

Jameson chuckled. Besides all the crimes, he’s very okay. The same can be said for a lot of people in here.

“Hah. I’ll take your word for it.” Jackie sat there for a moment. He looked... sad. “Are you... sure there’s nothing you can tell me?”

...I’m sorry, JJ said.

“No, don’t be. In fact, thank you for what you’ve told me so far.” Jackie gave him a soft smile. “I... hate for this visit to be short, but I guess... there’s nothing more for us to talk about, for now. M-maybe I’ll be back if there are any... changes. Or if there’s anything else I want to ask.”

It hurt to see Jackie for a minute, only for him to leave again. But it wasn’t like they could spend ages catching up. JJ wouldn’t be surprised to hear that there was a time limit on visits. Goodbye, then, he said.

“Goodbye... for now.” Jackie stood up. “W-we’ll see each other again.” And with that, he turned and left.

JJ watched the door slide closed behind him. He sighed, slumping in his seat. And he wondered... would it have been better to never see Jackie at all? Would that be better than having this short conversation, reminding him of what he couldn’t have ever again? Reminding him of what existed outside the walls of Byrthon Vault?

The guards appeared to take him away again. He did not resist. No use in starting now.

===============

“Windstorm visited you?” Soren asked later that day. He was clearly surprised. “I guess... that might make sense? He doesn’t seem the type to throw someone in prison and forget. But what did he want with you?”

JJ sighed. There were a handful of others nearby. Soren had tried to introduce him to other prisoners JJ might get along with. But Soren was the only one who knew sign, so he was interpreting for the others. Don’t say this out loud, JJ said. But... we were friends.

Soren raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Jameson nodded. We met in our secret identities first... then I found out about his, by accident. Then he found out about mine when he unmasked the Puppeteer. It has... been a lot.

“I see...” Soren nodded slowly. “That... must be... difficult. At least he spoke to you.”

He’s a kind man, really, JJ said.

“Hey, what’s this all about?” One of the others nearby was Angela, the one who got up in JJ’s face early on. She seemed a lot more... chill, now. And she was too tired to act on anything, even if she wasn’t. “It’s not every day a Hero comes to visit someone in the Vault. Is it... should we be worried?”

Soren looked at Jameson. After a moment, he shook his head. It was all stuff related to me, not any of you, he said. Nothing is going to change for the worse in here.

As Soren told the others about that, JJ leaned on his shoulder and closed his eyes. His head still hurt. He was having trouble even sitting upright. But absentmindedly, he did wonder why Jackie came to visit. To let him know that the outside world was aware of Anti-Virus? To give him hope that he’ll be able to get out of here? That was probably it. Even though Jackie asked him questions about Anti-Virus, he seemed less concerned with interrogating information out of him and more worried about JJ’s health and how he was doing.

That was nice. Jackie really was a kind man. But JJ knew that it was unlikely that the public or the justice system would so easily forgive the Puppeteer. He knew he wasn’t leaving prison. Maybe he’d leave the Vault eventually. But he doubted it.

There was nothing he could do to change that though, was there? So he shouldn’t get himself worked up. He should focus on what he could do. He could spend time with Soren, maybe get close to other prisoners. Try to keep in shape to stave off the side effects. That was about it.

Still, it was better than thinking about how he was trapped in here. So he decided to focus on those few things after all. It might make being stuck a bit more bearable.

===============

“This is the path to the visitor’s room, I’m pretty sure.” Jackie handed Schneep a torn-out notebook page with a crude pencil map on it. “I asked a lot of questions about where the other corridors went, not all of them were answered, but I labeled the ones that were. I didn’t want to be too persistent for an answer, just in case it was suspicious.”

Schneep looked over the page, studying it. The four of them were in Neun Park again, having left their phones at home. “I see, I see,” he muttered. “Did Jameson tell you anything?”

“He mentioned a courtyard,” Jackie recalled. “But that it was covered with a net. Honestly I could’ve maybe asked him more... like where his cell is or something. But I thought that’d be weird.”

“Well, what you said earlier about the layout should help, right?” Chase said. “The warden said the most dangerous ones were higher up, I think they’d count JJ as dangerous.”

“Strange that they do that,” Marvin muttered. “Kanchana told me there’d usually be separate wings for different securities, not different floors. There must be only one cell block. Or two, for men’s and women’s.”

“It’s not the biggest prison, I guess?” Jackie said. “I’ve been to one before, the Vault was definitely smaller than that, but it looked a lot more secure. Cameras everywhere.”

Chase frowned. “Do you think Anti-Virus is able to get into the Vault cameras, then?”

Jackie stiffened. “Well... h-he’d need a reason to. I guess he could be keeping an eye on Jameson... I hope he’s not, though.” Oh god, if Anti-Virus did know what was going on in the prison, did he spy on his visit with JJ? Did he hear everything Jackie said to him? ...He was pretty sure he didn’t say anything too obvious about the breakout. But still. It made him nervous, but it was all done now. There was nothing he could do, other than help with the breakout.

But not too much. He couldn’t know anything important. If the League got a hint of what he was planning, they’d probably detain him at least, and he wouldn’t be able to help anyone.

“Do you know anything else that could be of help?” Schneep asked.

Jackie nodded. “He had these cuffs on. The warden said they were magnetic pow-sup bracelets.”

“What? But they’re already using neutrinalin on him!” Marvin cried. “They put pow-sup cuffs on him, too?!”

“The warden explained all that actually,” Jackie said. “It’s in case the neutrinalin fails somehow. If he shows any sign of using his powers they turn on the pow-sup and the cuffs snap together. I think it’s because his powers are so hand-based. The strings come from there and stuff.”

“Oh, so the pow-sup isn’t active all the time.” Marvin relaxed slightly. “That’s... slightly better. But only slightly. I-I still don’t like that.”

Schneep frowned. “There must be a way to get those off. Do you think we could find the key? Oh, but no, something so secure would probably use something more advanced, wouldn’t it? Perhaps fingerprint recognition. So we must prepare for his wrists to snap together at any moment, and once he is out we need some way to take them off. I wonder what metal they are made out of...”

Marvin shrugged. “No way to know without looking at them, I guess. But it can’t be too difficult to break.” He held up a hand and wiggled his fingers. Small spheres of glowing red energy, each the size of ball bearings, appear around his fingers and weave around them in a repeating pattern.

Jackie nodded. “I do think you’d be able to break through them... you’ll just have to be careful. They are on his wrists, after all.”

“Of course,” Marvin said quietly. The spheres disappeared. “I don’t want to hurt him.”

“...yeah. I-I know you don’t.” Jackie looked to the side, watching a couple cars go down the street next to the park. “Are... are you guys going to do more planning? If so, I should probably go.”

“Right, yes.” Schneep cleared his throat. “Thank you very much, Jackie. This is a great help.”

“Is it?” Jackie asked. “I don’t think I managed to get much.”

“Anything is better than nothing.”

“Oh! Do you know exactly where the cameras are?” Chase asked. “Before you go, could you like... make a note of them?”

“Great idea, Chase!” Schneep nodded.

“I can try to remember where they are but, uh, don’t fully rely on my memory.” Jackie patted his pockets and took out the pencil he’d used to draw the rough map earlier. He took the paper back from Schneep and put a couple dots on it. “I think that’s where they are... the one right outside the front entrance had a red light and I watched for other ones like that. But there could be ones that don’t have those lights somewhere that I couldn’t see.”

“Hmm...” Marvin frowned. “I have an idea, but... I don’t know if I like it.”

“Don’t!” Jackie covered his ears.

“I wasn’t about to say it, fucking hell.”

Jackie stood up from the bench. “I’ll just go now. Is there anything else?”

“Not that I can think of,” Schneep said. “Chase, are you going as well?”

Chase glanced at Jackie. “Um... do you want me to go back with you?” he asked tentatively. “I-I’d be good with that.”

“Do you want to go home with me?” Jackie asked. “Or would you rather stay here and try to help.”

“I’m good with either, if you want me to come with you I will.”

Marvin rolled his eyes. “Is this how you two talk about most things? You’re flatmates, aren’t you? Do you go back and forth on doing the dishes, too?”

Jackie glared at him, then looked back at Chase. “Look, if you want to stay and help plan, you can. I can take the train back on my own, you know.”

Chase smiled weakly. “Y-yeah. I’ll stay for a bit longer. Let Frosty stretch his legs.” Frosty put his head on Chase’s leg, resting it there.

“Cool, man. I’ll see you when you get back.” Jackie smiled, then turned and walked down the street, heading towards the train station.

Once he was out of earshot, Schneep said, “The more I hear about the Vault, the less I know about how to infiltrate it.”

“You can’t just walk inside with your powers?” Chase asked.

“It is likely they will be prepared for supers with my skill set. I am not the only super who has ever had invisibility and intangibility.” Schneep chuckled. “Though I am by far the one with the strongest powers in a long time. They will have infrared cameras, I’m sure. And they may be prepared with energy weapons. Super intangibility usually cannot pass through energy beams and such. It is the same for me.”

“That’s how Jackie and I tried to corner him once,” Marvin said. “But you just went back into the U-Storit unit and walked through the wall there.” He sighed. “I should’ve completely surrounded you but I—”

“Didn’t think of it,” Schneep finished. “Most people do not. You are all accustomed to thinking of everything around as solid. Once you get rid of that mentality, so many new paths open up to you, ones that others do not consider.”

Marvin grinned. “I see.”

“Hey Marvin, what was that idea you mentioned earlier?” Chase asked. “That you didn’t like?”

Marvin’s smile dropped. He sighed. “I was wondering if the Dismantler could take out the cameras somehow. She’s a technopath—not like Anti-Virus, she doesn’t interact with the software, only the physical hardware of stuff. She... well, she can dismantle it. Physically. She also once told me that she has, like, a sense for high-tech stuff. She knows where nearby stuff is.”

“What, like an arrow in a video game that points to your objective?” Chase asked.

“Probably a bit like that, actually.” Marvin laughed.

“Well, why can’t she help, then?”

“Because... she’s... young,” Marvin said slowly.

Chase felt something in his stomach drop. “Is she a kid?!”

“Like an actual child?! No!” Marvin shook his head.

“O-oh. Good.” Chase let out a breath. Why did he suddenly feel a rush of panic, thinking about a child in danger? Well... everyone probably felt that way, actually. It’s not weird. Maybe it was a bit intense, but he worked with kids a lot... Why did he have this... strange feeling? Like he was... forgetting something...

“If we want her help for this, we’d have to get her into the Vault, a-and I don’t know how I’d feel about that,” Marvin stammered.

“Of course, of course.” Schneep nodded. “But... she was there at our first meeting. Does she want to help?”

Marvin shifted uncomfortably on the bench. “Let’s just look at Jackie’s diagram. See if there’s anything we can start to plan from it.”

Though they doubted Jackie’s little sketch was worth a long discussion, Chase and Schneep both nodded and turned their attention to it. Chase had a hard time concentrating, though. He kept thinking about that feeling... about that sudden panic. It seemed almost... protective in a way. But... it was probably just because he liked kids. Yeah. That was it.

And yet, the instinct nagged at the back of his brain. The feeling of forgetting something lingered all day.

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