#The Secret Trio Prompt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seiwas · 4 months

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₊˚⊹｡ (you were good to me) | nanami kento

wc: 2.8k

summary: nanami counts his chances and bets on this last one.

contains: implied f!reader but no mention of pronouns, canon-adjacent, exes, mentions of alcohol, swears, mentions of drunk calls, pov switching, angst, c.death

a/n: another brainchild from me and @augustinewrites, with song inspos: you were good to me, tequila, bourbon, already gone, all i want, and something in the orange

part of the in's and out's new year/birthday event | request prompt: waiting for that call you know won't come

part 1 <- you are here

October 31, 2018.

Your company halloween party isn’t all that fun when you think about it.

The optional suggestion from HR to wear a costume has always been promptly ignored for as long as you can remember, pressed suits in dark neutrals coloring the celebration instead. Nothing exciting about it at all.

It used to be though, when you had Nanami to spend it with.

Liquid pools by the sides of your fingertips, condensation dripping down your glass of bourbon. One of the perks of being in a financial firm’s halloween party is that the alcohol is good, expensive to match the tastes and budget the partners can afford.

Calling it a party is overhyping it, if you’re being honest. It’s just another day at work, except without the alcohol restrictions; your coworkers still check the markets every five minutes (you do too, out of habit), and directors still ask for summary reports while attending to a phone call or two—one hand on a tablet and another on a drink, earbud slotted securely in one ear.

You and Nanami used to hide, even just for a few minutes, by the break room at the back, inside the pantry—a place now foreign but still filled with all your memories; you haven’t stepped foot in it since he broke it off.

It's a common notion amongst your peers that workplace romance is dead—it always has been (at least, outwardly). HR would have cut either of you out of the next payment cycle if they had caught wind of your mingling.

Workplace romance is dead, they say, but what you had with Nanami was alive, beating with every giggle muffled by the palm of your hand. No one would ever consider him a funny guy, but you did—all his snide remarks, comments unapologetically deadpan in a way so bluntly his.

The gray curtain separating you two from the rest of the office kitchen was thin, but it held every weighted moment you snuck with him—secret confessions a little before midnight, a hand or two you couldn’t possibly resist, sobs hushed down, bitten between your teeth with you tucked into him.

Workplace romance is dead—it’s supposed to be, but a few desks down and a sharp left turn from yours, it haunts you, still.

You take a sip.

Nanami has a sense for these things.

It’s always when something doesn’t feel right that the numbers start to click.

Clusters of sorcerers have been grouped to surround the vicinity, his own trio comprising of himself, Fushiguro, and Ino. The instructions are simple: to be on standby in case anything happens. The wait time should be a good sign; it’s highly unlikely that anyone can match up to Gojo, after all.

He checks his watch, each second ticking agonizingly slowly. It feels unsettling, like the calm before the storm—a deep unrest simmering. Unsafe is the first thought that comes to mind, then you second; it prompts him to call you, his fingers slightly trembling.

Your contact is still marked with a star, filed under his favorites (he knows he probably should have moved it).

One ring. Two rings. Three. A ‘toot’ at the end of the line—it makes him antsy.

Then, the veils go down.

The action is alarming; these opponents move themselves like chess pieces, he knows this much—all part of a bigger plan, always with an underlying motive.

His thumb hovers over the call button again, thinking. The expression on his face remains impassive, sharp angles and straight lines concealing the weight of each worry.

“Nanami-san,” Ino calls.

Fushiguro’s already started theorizing, rationalizing some sort of ploy behind this occurrence—all highly plausible, all probably true; it’s some sick play that the moment the calculations click, there isn’t enough time to call you.

“That’s why we’ve stopped standing by and started to act,” Nanami interjects, shrugging off his blazer, khaki cotton falling off his shoulders as he slips his phone in his pant pocket.

If anything, you should probably do your best to enjoy whatever you can from this year’s Halloween party—after all, it’ll be your last in this company. You handed in your resignation papers last week, and though your boss has pulled you aside for the nth time tonight, disguising pleas as empty promises, you know better than to believe it.

It doesn’t matter to you anymore; you’ve made up your mind.

The bartender mixes you another drink: 2 ounces of bourbon for a ball of ice, the same one you’ve been having the entire night.

A White Russian is your usual pick—a spiked latte as you call it. Nanami’s claimed that Bourbon On The Rocks is like its older, more mature cousin, and you’re afraid he’s right. He always is.

The hints of vanilla and caramel remind you of your morning pick-me-up, part because of the drink and part because of the man you used to spend it with.

Your phone vibrates from your inner pocket, but you don’t feel it, the alcohol dulling your senses.

“Na-na-na-na-na-na-min!”

For this reason, he thinks, it’s good that the nickname has stuck; a perfect identifier for whom and where it’s coming from.

Echoes of Itadori’s voice lead them straight to a rooftop, Fushiguro catching the boy’s attention to ask for the run-down. Mechamaru warns that it’s pandemonium deep within the station, curses of all grades mixed with scattered transfigured humans. There’s only one thing he knows can be responsible for that.

Nanami doesn’t do jokes, but he secretly wishes this is just a really bad one, because—

Gojo’s been sealed.

—the punch line isn’t funny at all.

Sorcery has prepared Nanami for anything, but this possibility lies in his 0.01%—if this has happened, it’s free game.

It makes sense now, why this unease has slowly been surfacing.

Keep people safe and survive—the single thought at the forefront of his mind.

He moves quickly, devising a plan for maximum efficiency; Ino is to stay with Fushiguro and Itadori inside this veil while he meets up with Ijichi to put down the other one. Time is running short, options even more so—there are only a handful of people who can do certain requests and being a first-grade qualifies him as one of them.

Eerie silence greets him as he steps out on the sidewalk, the streets practically swept. It’s instinct when his hand reaches in his pant pocket, fingers moving in memorized pattern as he calls you again.

You don’t pick up for the second time.

One of your co-workers almost trips down the steps to the taxi, your arm stretched out to catch her should she fall forward completely. Cool air nips at your cheeks; you’ve had more to drink but you handle liquor well—if managing to keep up with Nanami means anything.

The vibrations of your phone get lost in the commotion. You haul your co-worker into the cab and tell the driver her address, asking if he can drive you to yours soon after.

It’s shit.

Climbing up the steps to the overpass fills him with a sense of foreboding. A sickening dread. On the way here, he spotted four managers, dead.

The sight before him angers him more than anything—blood pooling around Ijichi’s frame, crumpled on the ground. He steps closer, crouching low to check for a pulse; it’s faint, but it’s there, accompanying the man’s shallow breathing.

He does quick work bringing Ijichi to the rescue team, hopefully fast enough to make it back to Shoko where she can fix him.

The casualties are rising.

It isn’t safe anymore. The radius of collateral damage is widening and this is just the beginning.

What will happen to you? If the events in here break containment?

How can he keep you safe if jujutsu society falls?

He crunches the numbers, sorting through each possibility; the phone in his pocket feels heavy, sinking with each step he takes on concrete. It’s not often that Nanami runs out of options—there’s always an answer to anything; but this, he thinks, has never made him feel more desperate.

His fingers hover over your contact again.

There’s not enough time—this is the only way.

He needs to get you out of here.

You’re left with a voicemail.

The key slips from your hand, falling to the ground again, like the many times it has before. You step inside your apartment, swiping through your notifications to find two missed calls and an email.

It’s confusing enough getting calls from the ex you drunk dial once a week; receiving a flight notice set to depart later tonight with a ticket under your name doesn’t make things any clearer.

You tap your screen, odd anticipation and nerves coiling in your belly.

“Hello,” the audio starts, “I’m assuming you received the email.”

His voice sounds different when you’re a little more sober; you’re not sure if that’s a good thing—if it’s worse or better, just that it aches the more you hear him clearly. You kick off your heels, letting the audio play as you pour yourself a glass of water.

Your ticket details stare at you from your screen.

(Shouting isn’t a quiet man’s usual and his throat hurts from the overexhaustion. His voice echoes across the sea, calling for everyone to hurry over. There’s only so much Fushiguro can take from beside him, holding open the simple domain for everyone to slip through simultaneously.

He supposes, this isn’t the first time he’s done something out of character today—moving your flight and hoping you get on it is the most reckless thing he’s ever done.)

“I’m sorry this is so sudden, I understand if you’re confused. I know most of our conversations have been unideal lately.”

Metal clinks in the recording, a sound so familiar to you—the links of his watch band hitting. Nanami has a habit of shaking his wrist when he’s uneasy about something, and you can almost hear it from the small breaths he takes before each sentence.

It should embarrass you, the amount of times you’ve drunk-called him, but you have reason to believe he doesn’t find it all that off-putting.

(He wonders if he’ll get another chance to sit through one more unideal conversation with you.

Blood drips down the side of his head, his shoulder slashed through his shirt. Adrenaline moves every muscle he barely has the energy to.)

“Do you… do you remember that vacation we planned?” he breathes out from the other end, a hesitancy uncommonly heard from him, “To Kuantan?”

You do, very vividly—a trip discussed some time ago with your head on his chest, scrolling through flight promos on your phone. Nanami’s dream has always been to be free by the sea; you don’t expect it from a man turned jaded, but it feels like a secret spoken truthfully.

So you take it and run, booking a flight two years down the line—a ‘when we have the time’ flexible enough to move and transfer whenever either of you would like.

(In a flash, he’s flushed along with the current, waves engulfing him as he’s washed out of the domain.)

“I’ve thought about it and believe now would be a good time,” his voice continues, “with your resignation and things. ”

The spray sunblock on your dresser is barely used, but you grab it knowingly. Nanami is pale and—

(—when he burns, he thinks of the Kuantan sun—how nice it would be to be under it, bathed in the deep orange afterglow next to you.)

“I…” Nanami rarely stutters, but you hear a slight shake to his timbre, “I know this is a tough ask, especially when I’ve been unfair to you. But…”

You can picture him clearly—hand running through his hair as he adjusts his lenses; he pinches the bridge of his nose before shaking his wrist, that familiar metal clinking.

It almost sounds pained, his acknowledgment of it, as if he’s long since regretted treating you any less than you deserve. Does it make you stupid? Or sad? That you still hang on to every word he says, that the spaces between your fingers still miss the way he used to fill them.

You drag the zipper of your bag shut, patting it down to flatten.

“...I hope you know the reason I left isn’t because of something you did.”

The Nanami you know speaks nothing but the truth, and you believe him each time.

It’s a contradicting mix of comfort and anxiety, like he’s freed you from the guilt that used to weigh on you heavily. If it isn’t because of you though, you don’t know what else it could be.

You sigh, pushing down on the door handle as you take one last look to make sure you didn’t leave anything.

(It’s a lie when he tells himself he can’t feel anything; the left side of his body is burned, charred down to his sinews—it's a surprise he can still move. The damage should have been enough to numb him, but it still hurts when he thinks of you.

Did you receive his voicemail? Are you on your way now?

Time moves slowly as he drags his feet across the station floor.)

“I’ll… explain myself more when I see you in a few hours.”

Your stomach starts feeling funny when you get in the taxi—the pauses in his recording are obvious.

You wonder what’s going on in his head.

(This is cruel, he knows, concealing the truth and feeding you false hope. He’s a liar, but there’s no other way. There’s no time to explain everything to you.

If this is what gets you out of here—)

Silence.

You hear his footsteps through the recording, the sound of his feet shuffling, contemplating.

He speaks again, hesitancy tinged with sadness you can’t decipher, “I apologize, if this is out of nowhere,” a breath, “but I hope I was good to you in the time we had.”

You shift in your seat, fiddling with your fingers. There’s a finality to his tone that you find oddly misplaced—the sound of a goodbye more than a second try.

It is wholly unlike him to be this sentimental.

Tears well up in your lash line as you think back to everything: how he used to wait for you after work despite it being past midnight, how weekends were filled with nothing but love, massaged into the soles of your feet; how he’d buy your favorite breakfast sandwich even though he’s a snob about the ingredients in it. He drove you anywhere as long as you had music control.

Nanami is an old soul, and you indulged him by buying records for that vintage record player he has. Songs from the 50’s, 60’s, maybe a bit of jazz from the 70’s and 80’s too—for a man so stiff, he sways smoothly to its melodies, holding you closely each time.

He has only ever touched you gently, attentive to every need you express lovingly; his kisses always form a line straight to your heart—from the top of your head to your forehead, down between your eyebrows to the slope of your nose. His lips are soft against yours, ticklish as they drag down your neck to your collarbones.

A patient and tender lover, the most wonderful man for the greatest years of your life.

He was more than good to you—you couldn’t have asked for any better.

(A mess of curses greet him on the floor—transfigured humans he has no choice but to take the lives of.

He’s exhausted.

His blade swooshes to the right, body following the path it glides to. He allows himself a glimpse of rest, to think of how it must feel to dance by the glistening seaside with you.)

“You were the best thing to happen to me in that shitty place.”

His honesty rings loudly in your ears, resounding even as you pull up your luggage to the check-in counter.

Oftentimes, Nanami would say things and they’d sound a lot like ‘I love you’.

“I hope I can be good to you now, too.”

(Saying it would have been selfish—it’s good he didn’t, even though he wanted to. Those 3 words mean nothing if there’s no guarantee he’ll be alive to prove it to you.

A hand presses against his back; a crack in his soul.)

“The details are in the email, I’ll be there when you land.” he pauses; it takes a beat before he continues again, “See you then.”

You’re half-nervous and half-excited as you board the plane. The voicemail sounds suspicious, his actions even moreso, but if what he’s saying is true—

(It flashes before him, too fast and too slow; Haibara smiling, the life he couldn’t save. Yuuji calling him from the corner, a ‘Nanamin’ one last time.

Then there’s you. Just as he’s about to give in to it all—the beach. How pretty you’d look, beaming up at him, pointing towards the sun as it sets into the endless sea.)

“Don’t forget to turn off the lights.” he says softly, like a reminder to be cradled safely.

You settle into your seat, the captain speaking over the announcement system.

“Flight MH 1730 to Kuantan, Malaysia from Tokyo, Japan. Departure time is 11:16 p.m. Estimated arrival…”

—you can’t wait.

(At least he’ll get to save your life, right?

Nanami Kento. Time of death: 11:17 p.m.)

a/n: writing this was really tough (because it absolutely gutted me), but it was a good challenge! a few info bits: partners = high ranking roles in the company; white russian = vodka, coffee liqueur, & cream + ice; the flight details are not real; the pov switching is real time, except for the voicemail, which acts as a voiceover to the events concurring between nanami and you.

thank you notes: to @augustinewrites OF COURSE. what would i do without you fr. this has plagued us for the longest time and we have been way too sad for too damn long bc of it 😭 thank you for half-mothering this, where would i be without your sad songs 🥹 + @mysugu and @soumies for running through this idea & the voicemail dialogue with me 🥺 very important opinions from very important people indeed 🥺 + @stellamancer for helping me with my grammar doubts 😭

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

#nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kento x reader #nanami x yn #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #nanami kento x yn #nanami kento x you #shotorus.writes #shotorus.events #in's and out's event

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liyawritesss · 4 months

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ᖴᒪOᗯEᖇᔕ Iᑎ ᗷᒪOOᗰ - ᐯᗩᒪEᑎTIᑎEᔕ ᗪᖇᗩᗷᗷᒪEᔕ

Ｄａｙ５－ＳｅｃｒｅｔＡｄｍｉｒｅｒ

－ Shot Clock - 42!Miles Morales - Spiderman: Across The Spiderverse

－ In which the secret admirer who's been leaving notes in your locker turns out to be someone you least expect.

－ Check out more prompts and other activities on the Flowers In Bloom Event Masterlist!

“So you’re meeting them now?” Your friend gasps in surprise as your little trio walks down the halls of Visions Academy, classes having ended for the day and students being left to their own devices for the weekend. “Aren’t you nervous?”

“I mean, yeah,” you respond, grasping onto the latest handwritten notecard in your hand, “who wouldn’t be nervous meeting their secret admirer that’s been leaving love notes in their locker for two weeks right before Valentines Day?”

Your locker had been plagued with little sticky notes and index cards, written eloquently with sweet words and timid confessions since the beginning of February. At first you were surprised - you didn’t think you were worth this kind of affection from anyone, especially not someone at Visions. Slowly, you grew to expect the little written notes every morning when you went to your locker to grab your belongings for the days classes, and rereading them during the weekend when you were with your parents, gushing over the poetic words and wondering who your secret admirer could be.

“They said to meet up on the roof? Isn’t it off-limits?” Your secondary friend chimed in.

“The aerodynamics club meets up there every Friday, so it should be free,” you inform the pair, pursing your lips together tightly in anticipation. There was no going back now, “wish me luck.”

As they three of you went off your separate ways, you found yourself crawling up the steps to the school’s rooftop, mulling over images of possible candidates in your head. By the time you reached the top of the stairs, hand on the door knob twisting it open, your mental list had been scratched off completely. Only fate knew what it had in store for you behind the metal door.

Late evening sun welcomed you as you walked onto the rooftop, the distant voices of the aforementioned Aerodynamics Club could be heard somewhere off in a far corner. With the notecard in your hand still, you took a deep breath, approaching the hooded figure you believed to be the secret admirer.

“Hey,” you began, voice soft but still firm enough to grasp the others attention, “I think I’m here to meet you…-”

The figure turns around, and it’s someone you never considered a possibility on your secret admirer roster - not because he wasn’t a qualifying candidate, but because he was too much of one.

“-...Miles?”

He pauses for a moment upon hearing his name, before turning to face you completely. He rids his head of his hood, revealing himself to you fully. His hand runs smooth down his hair, pushing his headphones to rest around his neck as well. If you didn’t know any better, you’d thought that he was nervous.

“Yeah,” he replies, and your suspicion is confirmed - he is nervous, anxious, timid, even, “yeah, it’s me.”

A moment passes, and it seems to make the boy more anxious, “so…what?” He stuffs his hands in his pockets, “...why you look like that?”

“No, sorry-” you quickly cover your shocked expression, “I just…” Your eyes take a moment to scan over him. His body is rigid, tight and tense, expecting a rejection, you think, “you never struck me as the poetic type.”

A light, shaky laugh leaves his lips, and the air between the two of you softens into something easier. His hand goes to scratch his neck sheepishly, “I’ll take that over a rejection, I guess.”

“For someone who’s a science whiz,” you begin, a smile creeping at your lips just from being in his presence, “you’ve got a way with words.”

Even though Miles Morales, the kid who sits by the window with his headphones in and a nonchalant look to him all the time, was the last guy on your list of secret admirer candidates, you don’t regret it being him. A nest of butterflies begins to flutter in your stomach the longer you stand with each other on the school's rooftop. The note is still scrunched up in your hands, and even though you’re sure you’ve ruined it, there’s a feeling in your chest that tells you that this may not be the end of the silly little notes in your locker.

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weasleyreidstyles · 2 months

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Serendipity

chapter seventeen

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): mentions of death (its a funeral), some fluff but it's mainly angst

series masterlist; previous part; next part

In the week following Dumbledore's death, the school had emptied out almost immediately – students were leaving via the Hogwarts Express almost daily and some parents would even apparate into Hogsmeade and meet their children at the gate to escort them home themselves.

No one trusted that Hogwarts was safe for their children anymore. Nowhere was truly safe. Not without the safety that Albus Dumbledore had always provided.

The hallways were desolate by the time two weeks had passed.

Your parents had met you and Hermione at the gates to the castle on they day of Dumbledore's funeral, pulling you both into tight hugs; unwilling to let you go. Molly Weasley had praised your efforts of saving her eldest son from Greyback, not taking into account how worried your parents would become upon not knowing if you were truly alright. Your father, a healer working at St Mungo's had demanded to know whether you should still be in the Hospital Wing recovering, but you'd assured him, and your mother, that you were only left with a few ugly scars.

Scars that you abhorred, but there was nothing you could do about the way they littered the skin of your abdomen. Mattheo had done his best to rid you of those insecurities, pressing lingering kisses to the marred skin whenever the opportunity arose. But the feelings still lingered when you examined the jagged silver lines in your bathroom mirror and in your nightmares where you don't save Bill, but end up worse off.

Hermione too, had assured your parents that she had come out of the battle virtually unscathed after they had turned to her with the same brutal enthusiasm for her safety. But the worry was still apparent in their eyes. You doubted that it would disappear any time soon. Not now that they are in the Order, and know just what you've been up to this year.

A few days after the battle, Hermione and Ron had found you while you sat in the library, enjoying a moment of solitude. They'd sat in the two seats opposite you and were looking at you with nervous expressions on their faces.

"Where's Harry?" you ask without looking up from your book. He was noticeably absent, probably grieving in his own way. Ron coughs awkwardly as Hermione shuffles in her seat.

"He doesn't know we're here, but we need your insight on something." she says and you finally look up at them, both as weathered by the battle as you are, dark circles stain their eyes just as badly as they do on your own face.

"What do you need?" You ask, voice quiet, so you don't draw any unnecessary attention. Ron reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled piece of parchment, which looks old and worn.

"Can you read this, and tell us what you think?" he asks as he places it on the table infront of you.

Hesitantly, you unfold the intricate little thing which reveals the neatest scroll of penmanship you'd ever seen.

To the Dark Lord, I know I will be dead long before you read this, but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more – R.A.B

"What the hell does this mean?" You ask, looking up at them with the same confusion mirrored in their eyes. You give Hermione a look and she nods imperceptibly, prompting you to see into her recent memories. You look at them with wide eyes. "The horcrux was a fake?"

"And whoever this R.A.B person is, has the real one." Hermione mumbles with a nod. Ron looks between the two of you before shaking his head and taking the note to examine it for the thousandth time.

You sit back in your seat, disbelief marring your features. Had Dumbledore died for nothing?

~∞~

The actual funeral service was a long, arduous process. But it was truly beautiful, despite the reason for such a large gathering.

The sun shined brightly, even as it began its slow descent in the sky, sending ripples of dazzling sunlight across the surface of the lake, and it was so warm. Warm enough that you had to wear a sundress that had been stuffed right at the bottom of your trunk since you'd returned to school after the Christmas holidays.

It was held on the school grounds, near the Whomping Willow, surrounded by the cascading violet of the wisteria trees that surrounded the banks of the Black Lake, resembling an almost life-like watercolour painting from where you were sat. It seemed that every entity on the grounds, from the people to the flora and fauna, had felt the impact of Dumbledore's death and mourned it on that balmy June evening. Some of the plants were dull where they used to be vibrant; even the birds weren't singing as joyfully.

The atmosphere surrounding the crowd was taut, ripe with with the whispers of conversations that drifted across the assortment of seating like a strange, lulling birdsong. The attendees varied from young students to old scholars, most of which you don't recognise. But you can see members of The Order dotted about the rows sporadically, eying certain rows and glancing conspiratorially between eachother; you understand why when you see Delores Umbridge (and Cornelius Fudge) waltz up the centre aisle into one of the rows near where other Ministry officials, including Rufus Scrimgeour sat, dressed in a vibrant fuchsia pink cloak, a 'grieving' expression painted on her ugly face. They're followed closely by Rita Skeeter, her enchanted pen and pad at hand. The Order members around their row are tense and alert.

You took a seat closer the back of the crowd, beside your parents, dressed in a deep green sundress with embroidered vines of the deepest sepia winding up the skirt in intricate patterns with little bluebells climbing up the stems, to combat the stifling heat of summer, and your wand is tucked into a thin, onyx holster on your waist.

Ron had clearly forgiven you to some extent, evident in the way he'd willingly sought you out in the library over a week ago, but he was still wary of the Slytherins you surrounded yourself with; Harry seemed content with bypassing your existence entirely. It was probably wise to sit further away from them, especially because it was obvious that Harry blamed your friends for Dumbledore's death. You can see the back of Ginny's head, where she's sat with the Golden Trio about five rows ahead of you. Even from where you are, you can see how she grips onto Harry's hand for dear life.

You can even feel Mattheo's eyes on you from his seat at the very back of the procession.

Can feel the way his magic calls to your's.

He's sat with Pansy to his left, Theo to his right and Enzo and Blaise are beside them.

Draco is nowhere to be seen.

The five of them have received a multitude of looks from those surrounding them, and you would be stupid not to see the amount of Aurors and Order members who had ended up seated near them.

Just thinking about the fact that they were surrounded as if they were a guild of threatening wizards, when they were still students at this very school, made your blood boil.

They still were not trusted, despite Remus vouching for them personally. Only a few members: the twins, Andromeda Tonks and her husband, Ted, seemed to acknowledge the risk that your friends were taking by just being at the school. Even your own parents were wary. Especially now. Voldemort was actively gathering more support and wreaking havoc across the country – wizard and muggle world alike.

Despite all the eyes on him, Mattheo appears to be surprisingly relaxed. But that's only because you are in his eye line. Dressed in a pretty sundress, with your hair cascading down your back and shoulders in delightful curls that he has the urge to tug on. Only you and his friends know just how tense he truly was, surrounded by people he didn't trust; people who didn't trust him.

You look lovely. You smile at the warmth in his voice, body thrumming with the heat of his gaze from a few rows behind you. Discreetly, so you don't attract your parents' attention, you turn to face Mattheo, who has a smirk widening on his face as he takes in the flush that dusts your cheeks, despite the tension that sits on his broad shoulders.

So do you. You reply, catching your bottom lip with your teeth instinctively as your eyes trail the length of his body. What you can see of it, at least.

He's dressed in a suit of all black – no ounce of colour aside from the singular indigo bluebell in the breast pocket of his suit jacket, one that he'd conjured when he noticed the patterns on your dress. His hair is unruly as always, blowing wildly in the soft breeze.

Stop looking at me like that, darling. It's inappropriate. His handsome smirk widens with his smugness.

I can't help it. Especially when you look at me like that.

He narrows his onyx eyes playfully at you and you turn around before anyone can notice your brief interaction, exhaling a breathy laugh as you shake your head. His own laughter reverberates through your mind like a gentle caress, igniting a spark in your core.

Strangely, you can feel his magic like its your very own, even two weeks after it had initially exploded around you.

Neither you or Mattheo have an answer for it. And neither of you are in a hurry to share the discovery, for it felt far too intimate to involve anyone else.

~∞~

As the service began the merfolk, who had gathered at the bank of the lake, had begun a sorrowful tune, their pallid skin glistening in the sun, wirey hair spreading about the murky waters. As they sang their song of loss and despair, Hagrid had started to walk down the central aisle, his face blotchy and red with tears that fell heavily from his eyes. He was cradling something in his arms, or rather someone, wrapped in velvet fabric of the deepest purple, spangled with glittering golden stars. A cloak that many students had deemed as Professor Dumbledore's personal favourite over the years, as it was his most frequently worn one.

It was becoming harder to swallow as a sob crawled its way up your throat at the sight. You gripped your father's hand in your's tightly and he squeezed back.

At that moment, it seemed like all the warmth from the sun was sucked from the atmosphere, as a cold shiver ran down your spine. You couldn't feel the powerful allure of his magical core anymore. His covered body looked so small and frail in Hagrid's arms and you finally let out a muffled sob as he makes his way past your row.

You feel a wave of love, sorrow and care caress your mind, which lets you know that, despite the indifference he holds towards his Headmaster, Mattheo was also feeling the devastation that their safety blanket; the one who was supposed to help defeat great evil, was gone.

When Hagrid was near the front, you could hardly see what was happening due to the amount of heads that obscured your view, but you can hear the distinct sound of hooves on stone as a herd of centaurs make their presence known, but they did not move from the trees and their shadows. They were stood preternaturally still as they observed with their bows and weapons laying limply at their sides.

Dumbledore's body had been gently placed onto a table of pure white quartzite, that made the colours of his cloak shine vibrantly in the steadily setting sun. The tune from the merfolk reached a slow end and from what you could make out, a small Ministry official, dressed in plain black robes stood beside the table, where a small stand had been erected.

From your seats, you and your parents could hardly hear what was said in Dumbledore's honour and when he stopped speaking and took his seat again, a palpable silence swept over the crowd when no one else got up to pay their respects. It was like a brutal finality had swept over the courtyard.

Albus Dumbledore was never coming back. You were on your own in this battle.

Suddenly, bright white flames errupted around the quartzite table and Dumbledore's body, growing higher and higher, spiralling in pretty patterns as a pheonix flew amongst the inferno joyfully as if rising from the ashes, before disappearing with an abrupt flash of golden light. The white fire, too, had vanished with the pheonix, leaving a white marble tomb in it's place.

More cries of shock are let out as a shower of arrows soared through the air, falling like dangerous silver-tipped raindrops into a clearing far away from the crowd. The centaurs turned and disappeared without a trace once they'd paid their tribute; the merfolk sunk below the surface of the Black Lake promptly after them.

~∞~

"Well...that was depressing." Theo's voice was low, sarcasm etched in his tone. Blaise and Enzo rolled their eyes as Pansy openly gaped at him as passers by gave him looks of disgust.

"Don't disrespect the dead, Teddy." You admonish with a scathing look, that he only bats away with shrug of his shoulders.

"Oh lighten up, tesoro. We all know he wouldn't have cared for all this seriousness." He says, bringing you into a side along hug, ruffling your carefully done hair with calloused hands. You bat them away with an irritated huff.

As soon as you were able to, you'd made a beeline for your friends, wrapping a sniffling Pansy into a hug, comforting eachother in silence as you sent words of affection mind to mind.

Now the six of you are stood off to the side, ostracised from where many of Dumbledore's Army are stood, sharing recollections of Dumbledore's life. Harry, Ron and Hermione are nowhere to be seen.

Mattheo is a silent, imposing wall of stoicism. He doesn't take part in you're friend's untimely banter, and hardly reacts to the scathing, untrustworthy looks that are sent his way.

You send a wave of your emotions to him, love pooling over the anxiety, which causes his stiff muscles to loosen as you reach over to take his hand in your's. Unashamedly you press kisses to his scarred knuckles, running a careful hand across his arm, and thread your fingers with his.

His onyx eyes are alight with gratitude, as the two of you listen to Theo and Enzo bicker.

Suddenly your isolation is cut off by a woman who looks exactly like the one who subjected you to the cruciatus curse a year ago. Her presence makes you startle on instinct, but that feeling is overcome with guilt as Andromeda Tonks, strong-willed, beautiful, stoic and regal; a good friend to your mother and Remus, stands before you with warm, russett eyes.

"Hello Meadow." She greets you, her voice soft and low, matching the slight hauty expression that matched Sirius' with haunting accuracy.

"Hi Andy." You reply, your brows crease in confusion when her husband is nowhere to be found. "Where's Ted?"

"Talking to your father and Remus, I believe." She says, a gentle look overtaking her features that makes her appear youthful and stress free, but that look is gone in a split second when her dark eyes trail to Mattheo's hand, still in your grasp and up to his carefully guarded face.

"You look scarily like your father." She says and you feel the way Mattheo imperceptibly flinches at her observation. The boys and Pansy stop their conversation to form a solid wall of mistrust behind the two of you, faces resigned and stony.

She must sense their growing hostility because she relaxes the harshness from her face, replacing it with apology.

"I mean no offfence." She says slowly, face twisting with regret. "We cannot help who are parents are, after all."

Mattheo doesn't relax, but he knows that you clearly trust her. Andromeda turns to face you instead, that soft look that painted her aristocratic face when she first saw you, appearing again.

"I've come to offer an olive branch of sorts." She tells you. "Remus vouched for the all of you and my nephew during a previous meeting and I'm inclined to agree with him."

"Nephew?" Blaise questions and you turn to see that they all look equally as confused.

"This is Andromeda Tonks, previously Andromeda Black." You introduce her formally with a light smile on your face, and the recognition lights up on your friends' faces when you do. "Draco's Aunt."

"I do wish I was meeting your friends under different circumstances, Meadow." She says.

"What's this olive branch you mentioned?" You ask curiously, steering the conversation back in the direction it had been going in before being sidetracked.

"I'm offering my home as a safe house for you all." Andromeda replies, casting her eyes on your Slytherin friends again.

"What's the catch?" Mattheo asks, his voice filled with suspicion, his grip on your hand tightening with his growing paranoia. You sooth him unconsciously with a stroke of your fingers against his knuckles. Andromeda's careful eyes catch the moment almost immediately.

"We know you're already inducted into your father's regime, unwillingly." She says quietly, wary of Mattheo untrusting stance. "With Severus gone, it is imperative that we know what we're dealing with."

"You need spies." Theo says with certainty, his face twisting with barely restrained contempt.

Andromeda only nods once.

Theo, Enzo and Mattheo seem to have a three way conversation mentally before they come to a decision and it's Enzo who speaks up first.

"Who else besides Professor Lupin, know about this?"

"Meadow's parents, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody."

You stare up at Mattheo with uncertainty. Would they really put their lives at risk for an organisation that barely trusts them?

"Are there any other conditions?" Mattheo asks, stepping towards Andromeda slightly, but not in any threatening way.

"Gather as much information as you can, as safely as you can. And get my nephew and my sister out of that Manor."

"What about after the war?" Pansy asks, having been silent throughout the whole exchange. "Like you said, they're already inducted. If the war goes in Potter's favour, will they be pardoned?"

Andromeda seems to still at that, as if she didn't know the answer and suddenly every single one of you are on edge as you consider the possibility that, if the boys help, they could be thrown right into Azkaban to rot, simply for carrying the burden of the Dark Mark.

"After the war," Andromeda whispers, "there will be justice. But I cannot predict the outcome, and we won't win without your help. I know how Voldemort's court works, for I was part of it for much of my youth before I got out. What you're doing already is proof enough that you are inherently good, even if most people don't see it."

"But what if-" Pansy replies but Andromeda holds out one of her slim, pale hands to gently silence her trail of thought.

"Thinking of that now will not help you during this. You mustn't for it will dull your hope for a better future. Take the offer, my house is in a quiet muggle town. No one will bother you there and it's delightfully warm this time of year."

You each exchange silent but definitive looks before Mattheo nods towards her once and immediately the six of you are given the image of a quaint cottage that sits on the edge of a seaside town, seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

"Ted and I will visit occasionally, to make sure our house is not in disarray. Remus or Alastor will deliver your assignments on a biweekly basis."

"Where will you stay, if we're taking up your space?" You ask and Andromeda offers you a friendly smile.

"With your parents in a safe house of our own. With them working high profile jobs in the Ministry and St Mungo's and being 'suspected' members of the Order, they can't be living somewhere anyone can find them."

You blink back your surprise emotions at the implications of her statement. It dawns on you then. The severity of everything happening around you.

Their need for an insider means that The Order weren't as prepared as they wanted people to believe.

They were willing to send your friends to the snake pit so they would have a chance to save themselves.

~∞~

The cottage stands at the end of a winding lane in Falmouth, Cornwall. It's all cobblestoned streets and thatch roofed houses, surrounded by idyllic fields and the most stunning views of beach for as far as the eye could see.

It was certainly out of the way – the nearest village was about a thirty minute walk away.

The perfect place to erect a safe house.

The six of you are stood infront of the picket fenced gate, bags in hand as your parents, Andromeda, Ted and Remus finish putting up the final protective enchantments.

It's been a week since the funeral. In that week, you spent every possible second with your parents, who seemed reluctant to let you stay here. All week, they'd been asking you to join them in their own safe house; one accidental peak in their minds told you all you needed to know for the reason why.

They didn't trust your friends. They especially didn't trust Mattheo.

Now, you stand beside him, tucked into his side as Remus gives you a debrief of instructions for the boys' first task.

"When is the next meeting?" He asks Mattheo, head tilting as you all stand in the cramped kitchen of the cottage, your parents and the Tonks couple nowhere to be seen.

Mattheo opens his mouth to answer, but grimaces as the Mark on his forearm burns in earnest, warning him...daring him to answer. You feel his pain in the very depths of your soul, scrunching your face at the feeling that brushes over you, even as you squeeze his hand in your's.

No one seems to notice other than Remus, who stares between you and Mattheo almost too quickly that you could have missed it.

"I see." He nods to himself as Mattheo runs his hand against his agitated forearm. "Does this happen whenever you try and disclose information."

"Only with the more top secret things." Enzo says from beside Pansy, who has already found where the mugs are as she sips on a steaming cup of tea.

Remus is silent for a moment, as if contemplating whether or not this would even work, before he speaks again.

"At the next meeting, try and gather as much information as possible. Even if it seems meaningless – but only if it doesn't pain you." He says gently. Remus knows pain, and he knows how detrimental it can be for a person.

He doesn't want to see this group of young adults go through what he did, but he knows it's futile, and hypocritical of him to wish, for he's the one sending them into the snake pit.

"How's 'meaningless' information going to help the Order?" Theo asks with skeptical eyes.

"We need to buy Harry time." Remus says, but he doesn't divulge any further.

"Why?" You ask from Mattheo's side and Remus' gaze turns to you.

"You know why, Meadow." He says and your face twists in confusion before realisation sets in.

"He's going to hunt horcruxes instead of returning to Hogwarts, isn't he." It's not a question and in the way that Remus tenses, you know you're right.

"Yes, Meadow. But I'm afraid what they found wasn't a real one."

This, you already knew of course.

"What do you mean, it wasn't real?" Mattheo sounds like he doesn't believe a word Remus says, and one look up at his face confirms the disbelief in his tone.

"It was a fake. Something transfigured into a replica of the Locket." Remus pulls out a polaroid photo from his pocket. In the centre of the blurred image, sits a locket with a similar insignia to the ring that Dumbledore had handed to you in the Hospital Wing at the start of the year.

"That's not possible." Mattheo snarls and you take it upon yourself to push him into one of the chairs at the dining table, lest he try and launch himself at your old Professor.

"It is very possible." Remus says without a blink. "You see, in the first war, we had a spy. Only few of us knew of his identity but he told us that he'd discovered something. He'd found out about horcruxes and was going to singlehandedly destroy them himself.

One day he was scheduled to come to a meeting, to discuss any progress with his discovery, and to also give us more information on who was on Voldemort's side, but he didn't show up.

Three days later, his house elf, Kreacher showed up in my flat. He didn't even get a funeral."

Remus' voice was soft and desolate as he told you this information, eyes foggy as he relives one of the most traumatic times of his life. Your eyes are alight with realisation almost as soon as he's finished speaking.

"Kreature? Isn't that-"

"Sirius' family house elf? Yeah he is." Remus replied, his eyes glassy.

"Sirius had a brother-" you whisper, your voice betraying your sadness at the thought of the eccentric man.

"Yes. His name was Regulus Black."

~∞~

omg she's finally posted!😱😱

a few things...first of all i have 1000 followers!?! wtf!! thankyou with my whole heart 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

secondly...i've been revamping the layout of my posts but theres an issue with a couple of them (cough...chapter 16....cough) and it wont let me edit those posts but thats fine😶😶😶😶

anyway hope you enjoyed this one....the cliffhanger wasn't planned but then i liked how it flowed to the start of chapter 18 so hehehehe

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

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#serendipity series #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #slytherin boys x reader #ravenclaw x slytherin #pansy parkinson x reader #enzo berkshire x reader #blaise zabini #theodore nott x reader #harry potter #hermione granger x reader #ron wealsey x y/n #ginny weasley x reader #pansy parkinson #flangst #angst

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fangirlwriting-stories · 2 months

Text

Easier When Unknown

Summary: Danny could have imagined his life would be interesting after everyone learned his secret, but he didn't think it would be this different.

Author's Note: A phic phight fanfiction! Here are the two prompts:

AU where no one knew Danny was Phantom until PP (or some alternate big reveal of the author's choice). Sam and Tucker are sure that a famous hero like Danny Phantom is too cool to be their friend again, especially since they haven't talked since before freshman year of high school. Danny just wants to be part of the trio again and has no idea how to ask.

Danny finds out that Sam's been being bullied at school and has been hiding it from him and Tucker out of embarrassment.

...

Danny’s life definitely didn’t get easier after his identity was revealed, but it didn’t get that much harder, which was good. Right?

Or, well, that was a little bit of an oversimplification. His life definitely got harder in a lot of ways. People stared at him wherever he went. Suddenly all of the popular kids at school wanted to be best friends with him, like he couldn’t see through that change of pace from a mile away. There were news stations constantly vying for the first interview with the half-ghost kid who defeated the Ghost King.

But his parents stopped hunting him. And they were going to try to work things out. And Jazz revealed that she’d actually known for a while now, and that made her more ready to adapt to everything, and she didn’t treat him like anything had changed.

And all of that kind of evened it out, at the end of the day. Even if he wasn’t exactly sure he was ready to go from town’s enemy to world’s hero.

Because that was another part of this: word of Amity Park, ghosts in general, and what he’d done had been spreading like wildfire since he’d put Pariah Dark back in his coffin. Suddenly everyone was talking about him, and everyone knew him, and, as stated with the aforementioned journalists, everyone wanted to talk to him. He woke up every day to see news trucks that were local and ones that were very much not right outside his house. He’d flown intangibly to school every day for the past month.

Ancients, all this fame needed to die down soon. He wasn’t sure how much more of it he could take.

He was often so caught up in everything changing all at once, however, that he didn’t have much of a chance to think about things he might want to happen. Which was why he was a little caught off guard that morning. He was running from the daily mob of screaming girls who wanted his autograph (which was never something he thought he’d get sick of), and after getting at least a little bit of a lead on them, he turned intangible and dove through the door to the janitor’s closet, then turned back to normal and rested his hands on his knees, panting slightly to catch his breath.

“Uh,” came a very familiar female voice, and Danny’s head shot up. He found standing on the other side of the closet the one part of his life that hadn’t changed.

And for a long, long moment, he and Sam and Tucker just stared at each other.

Danny’s feelings about Sam and Tucker had never been more mixed. They really were the one aspect of his life that stayed the same post identity-reveal-to-the-entire-world, and he couldn’t decide whether to thank them for the consistency or be pissed at them for the audacity.

Because he hadn’t talked to Sam and Tucker since the beginning of Freshman year.

And then his secret was revealed to the entire world.

And he still hadn’t talked to Sam and Tucker since the beginning of Freshman year.

“Uh,” Danny said finally, because they couldn’t just all keep staring at each other. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Tucker said. Sam nodded in acknowledgement.

Really, guys. Work with him a little bit, please?

“Are you hiding from people too?” Danny asked, pushing himself up using his knees.

“Yeah,” Sam said.

“I didn’t think you’d be hiding from anyone anymore,” Tucker said, and Danny didn’t miss the tinge of bitterness in his voice.

“Um,” Danny said. He didn’t seem to have any more words for Sam and Tucker than he had a year and a half ago.

“Danny!” came from outside the closet, and Danny whirled around instinctually. “Get back here! What makes you think you can run from me?”

“Hey you mind if I hang out here for a bit cool thanks,” Danny said, moving across the closet until he was right across from Sam and Tucker. A second later, the door handle started jiggling, and Danny turned intangible, even though he could feel Sam and Tucker’s stares.

The door swung open and Paulina poked her head in.

“Oh, it’s just you two,” she said, disappointment obvious in her voice. A second later, she perked up. “Hey, you haven’t seen Danny, have you?”

“No,” Sam said, crossing her arms. “Would you back off? We’re trying to hide in a closet here.”

Paulina laughed. “Sure, okay. Have fun, losers.” She slammed the door after herself.

Danny dropped the intangibility as soon as she was gone with a sigh of relief. “Thanks,” he said to Sam and Tucker.

“Don’t mention it,” Sam grumbled, and leaned back against the shelf behind her. “I’m surprised you didn’t want to see her, though.”

“Honestly, yeah,” Tucker agreed, giving him a weird look. “Never thought I’d see the day you’d turn down Paulina.”

“It’s not that,” Danny said. “I mean she… she’s not…”

The warning bell rang, and all three of them looked towards the door, where they could hear it outside. For a second afterwards, none of them moved.

Sam did first, pushing herself off the shelf. “Bye,” she said, starting towards the door. Tucker followed her closely.

Danny tried not to make his deflation obvious. “Yeah, okay,” he muttered. He turned intangible again, and slipped through the floor, rather than try and go past them.

It was only when he actually made it to his homeroom that he realized he still had no idea why Sam and Tucker were in that closet.

…

“Hey, Fenturd— I mean Fenton!”

Danny heaved an internal sigh and looked up from his tray of food to find Dash and Kwan walking up to his table.

“Are these seats taken?” Dash asked with a grin, gesturing at the as-of-yet empty table around him. He’d gotten to lunch early in order to try and hang on to one.

“Yeah,” Danny said to Dash, leaning over to rest his chin on his hand in what was intended to be a representation of how little he wanted them here. “I’m holding it for all of the ghosts that are going to show up during lunch and blast you across the room.”

“Ha, you’re a riot Fenton!” Dash said, completely ignoring Danny’s tone and face and sliding into the seat next to him. Danny cringed and didn’t bother to hide it, sliding as far away from Dash as he could. Unfortunately, Dash just slid right down after him, which resulted in Danny nearly being pushed off the bench and Dash not noticing.

Kwan followed his lead and took the seat across from Danny, meaning Danny was forced to look in boredom to the side to avoid both of their gazes. He waited a couple extra seconds, but eventually it became clear that neither of them were going to move. So, Danny sighed, resigned himself to his life, and picked up one of his terrible school-lunch chicken nuggets.

“So, we were both thinking that maybe you could come watch one of our practices!” Dash called, slinging an arm around Danny’s shoulder. “The football team’s, I mean.”

“Why would I do that?” Danny asked, making his shoulder go intangible just long enough for Dash’s arm to fall through.

“Well I mean, it would be neat to have you there,” Dash said, glancing across the table at Kwan. “Right Kwan?”

“Totally,” Kwan agreed with a grin of his own. “And I mean, you’re pretty good with athletic stuff. You know, when you’re a cool ghost fighting superhero and not a weak dweeb. Maybe you could come as Phantom, you know, show us some tricks!”

“Gee, that sounds great,” Danny deadpanned. “So am I just supposed to ignore the insults in there, or…?”

“Hey,” came Paulina’s voice, and Danny turned around to see her walking up behind them all. “Can’t you two leave him alone? It’s clear he doesn’t want to be bothered by you.”

Danny blinked in surprise. He really hadn’t expected Paulina to pick up on that. Maybe she actually—

“He’d clearly rather be sitting with me!” Paulina said, reaching down and pulling Danny up by his arm.

“Okay, that’s it!” Danny went intangible again and slipped out of Paulina’s grasp, then grabbed his lunch and walked out of the room, straight through the doors without bothering to open them.

He made his way out to the front steps of the school and sat down, and managed to get through at least a couple bites before he remembered the reason eating outside was also a bad idea. The reminder came in the form of a reporter and a camera man leaping out from what he thought was a normal van sitting across the street.

“Mr Fenton!” called one of them as he ran up towards the steps. “Or would you prefer Mr Phantom?”

“I’d prefer solitude,” Danny snapped, leaning back and away from them both.

“Oh absolutely! Just a couple of quick questions first of course, you wouldn’t mind.”

The door slammed open behind them, and Danny prepared himself for Dash or Paulina again when, to his surprise, Mr Lancer stepped down the steps and stopped right in front of him.

“You’re on school property,” he said, crossing his arms. “You have two minutes to get back in your van and drive away or I am calling the police.”

“Sir, can I ask, how long have you known that one of your students is dead?” the reporter asked, shoving a mic in Lancer’s face.

Lancer raised an eyebrow and pulled out his phone, then started dialing 911. Thankfully, the reporters turned and ran back across the street before he could finish.

Lancer turned back around as soon as they were gone. “Are you alright?” he asked, casting a concerned look down at Danny.

“Fine,” Danny muttered, picking up his tray and climbing to his feet. “You know. Great.”

Lancer looked at him for another second, then said, “Mr Fenton, come and eat your lunch in my classroom.”

“What? Why?”

“You can sit out of view from my door,” Lancer said. “It’ll give you a break from the crowds.”

Danny felt a knot in his chest loosen. “Really?”

Lancer gave him a sympathetic frown. “I can’t imagine it’s an easy thing to deal with all the time,” he said. He opened the door again and gestured for Danny to go first, so he did.

And for the first time in a while, he ate his lunch in silence.

…

He wasn’t expecting to see Sam and Tucker again that day. Most of the time his time at school was spent avoiding every single person he possibly could. The morning incident in the janitor’s closet had been a once in a blue moon event.

But, as fate would have it, there was a ghost attack during the last period, and after going and taking care of it (just the Box Ghost showing up as an irritation), he landed behind the school to find Sam and Tucker leaning against the wall and talking.

And while he’d originally come back here to try and avoid all of the cheers he’d get going right back into class, he was sort of regretting that decision now.

Sam and Tucker were clearly deep in conversation, but they noticed when he landed right in front of them, and then they all got to do a lovely repeat of that morning’s staring at each other.

“Hiding again?” Tucker asked eventually.

Danny nodded. “You too?”

Sam nodded.

Danny gave them a curious look. “From what?”

“Danny!”

Danny groaned audibly this time, as Star ran around the side of the building and straight for him.

“That was so cool the way you just flew off like that!” she called. “Not a second thought to how you might be putting yourself in danger!”

“Yeah, thanks,” Danny said, already starting to fly away. “Make my excuses in class, will you? Got to get this really dangerous ghost back to the portal right away and send him through to the ghost zone. Great thanks bye!”

He flew off maybe a little bit too quickly for the given situation, but he couldn’t stand another second there, and school was basically over anyway. He made it home pretty quickly, and thankfully wasn’t stopped by any news outlets on the way, though that was likely because he made the whole trip while intangible.

But while he made it inside without any fuss, as soon as he flew down to the lab he was greeted with his parents working on what looked like a weapon of some kind.

He winced. He was never quite able to stop the touch of fear that came with his parents working on a ghost weapon. After a second, though, he floated down to the ground anyway and changed back from his ghost form.

Both his parents startled and looked over at him.

“Danny,” his mom said. “You’re back early.”

“Yeah uh, ghost fight in last period,” Danny muttered, heading over towards the portal and attaching the thermos to it. “School was already basically over, so I just came home.” He hit the button on the side of the portal and sent the Box Ghost flying into the portal, crying out dramatically all the way.

“Well that’s nice,” Mom said, the tension in her voice obvious.

“Yeah, uh, anyway I have homework,” Danny said, starting for the steps. He had a feeling flying up through the ceiling wouldn’t be a great idea right now.

“Will we see you for dinner, Danno?” Dad asked. “We were hoping to all eat together tonight.”

Danny tightened his grip on the railing of the stairs. “Okay.”

He considered asking what they’d be having, but given the tension in the room he really didn’t think he could spend much more time in the lab.

So instead, he just said “See you later,” and headed upstairs.

It’s not that his parents had reacted badly to the Phantom news. They’d done the important stuff, they’d given him a huge apology and stopped actively hunting him. But none of them seemed to really know where they stood with each other anymore. Danny didn’t logically think they were going to hurt him anymore, but it was difficult to get rid of that fear response that for the longest time, it made sense to have.

But at the same time, he could tell it made them feel guilty to see him be scared of them. Jazz said it wasn’t his fault, and she was probably right. But he still hated it.

He started first for his bedroom, and made it part of the way through the living room when the front door opened and Jazz sprinted in, slamming the door shut on nearly a dozen reporters. Danny could still hear their voice through the door after it shut. Some were asking how it felt to be the brother of a hero, some were asking how long she’d known and how she’d found out, and some were asking how it felt to know her brother was dead.

Jazz heaved out a breath, though all of the reporters were still easily heard through the windows. Then she looked up and met eyes with Danny.

“Oh hey,” she said, clearly still exhausted. “How was school?”

Danny didn’t respond, instead gazing out the gap in the curtains to the people shoving cameras in it.

“Sorry,” he said to Jazz.

“Oh, don’t you dare,” Jazz said. “I know you hate them as much as I do.”

Danny sighed and looked down. “Yeah.”

“Are you doing okay?” Jazz asked hesitantly. “I’m sure it’s… a lot.”

Danny snorted. “Understatement.”

Jazz smiled a little. “Yeah.”

Danny turned to face her more directly, chewing on his lip. He’d avoided the topic with her so far, mostly because too much was going on, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been desperately curious. “Can I…” he said hesitantly. “Can I be like one of those awful reporters and ask you how you found out?”

Jazz rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not a reporter, you’re my brother. And I know if I tell you it’s not going to end up on the 5:00 news.”

She paused, and turned and glanced out the windows for a moment. “You want to go upstairs, though?”

“Yes,” Danny said immediately.

So they both ended up in Jazz’s room, sitting next to each other on her bed, with the curtains drawn tight in case the helicopters came back.

“I found out during the Spectra thing,” Jazz started. “I spotted you transforming.”

Danny nodded, thinking about that. “Okay,” he said quietly. “And… why didn’t you say anything?”

“I wanted to wait until you wanted to tell me,” Jazz said. She sighed, and glanced towards the windows. “I guess that didn’t really work out.”

“No,” Danny muttered. “But… I appreciate the sentiment.”

Jazz turned to look at him, concerned. “Are you doing okay? I mean, obviously not, just… you know.”

“Oh no, I’m fine,” Danny said, rolling his eyes. “I always hoped that everyone would learn my secret in the aftermath of an exhausting battle when I was definitely not prepared for them to learn, and then I’d be hounded by literally everyone who suddenly feels entitled to my attention and my time. Dream come true, this is.”

“I’m really sorry it turned out this way,” Jazz said quietly.

Danny sighed. “Me too.”

“Is there anything I could do to be helpful?” Jazz asked.

“Do you know if anyone’s figured out time travel yet?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Dammit.”

There was a moment of silence, and Jazz said, “I mean it.”

Danny shook his head. “There’s nothing you could do that you aren’t already doing,” he said. “You’re not looking at me different. Like your entire worldview’s been flipped on its head. Which, I mean I guess for a lot of people it has, but… still. It’s nice that you’re not.”

Jazz was quiet for a moment, and then she reached over and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. And despite how totally lame it was to hug his sister, Danny did the same back.

“Still, if you want me to stand in between you and anyone, just let me know,” Jazz said.

“I wouldn’t ask you do that,” Danny said, pulling back, though he was smiling a little. “I can just fly away from the news vans, and go intangible to get away from the helicopters. And Lancer already gave me permission to hide in his office during school hours if I ever need to.”

“Good,” Jazz said with a nod. She paused for a second, and Danny got the feeling she was about to ask something delicate. He was proven right when a second later she said, “And what about Sam and Tucker?”

“What about them?” Danny said, glaring away. “We’ve said about ten words to each other since everything happened. And about half of them are ‘um.’”

…Okay, so maybe he’s a little more bitter than he realized. He sighed.

“I can’t expect everything to suddenly change,” he said, turning back to Jazz. “Our falling out had nothing to do with Phantom.”

Or, it technically did. Their falling out had been because he constantly ditched them and left mid-way through hangouts. Because he was Phantom, and had to go fight whatever ghost had shown up. But they didn’t know that at the time. And it had been over a year since they’d talked. They had probably moved on.

“You should still talk to them,” Jazz said. “And I mean really talk to them.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t see much of an opportunity for that in between getting interrupted every ten seconds, either by classmates or reporters,” Danny said. He paused, and turned to look at Jazz as a realization struck him. “Hey, how are you doing with all that, by the way? It doesn’t look like the reporters are leaving you alone.”

“They’re definitely not,” Jazz said. “But I can handle myself. Besides, they tend to leave me alone as soon as they see you.”

Danny smiled a bit. “Glad I can take that off your shoulders for you.”

“Oh yeah, if anything you owe me,” Jazz said with a smile. “After everything I did for you?”

“I think I’ve saved your life three times now.”

“Do my dishes for a month and we’re even.”

Danny snorted. “Sure, you got it.” He took a deep breath, feeling lighter than he had when he got home.

“Hey, thanks, Jazz,” he said, looking over at her. “You’re surprisingly easy to talk to.”

“Anytime,” Jazz said, smiling warmly at him. “I mean it.”

…

The next day didn’t start much better, with flying invisibly to school and hiding in various places until first period starts, but Danny found himself in a better mood despite it. Talking with Jazz had helped, and knowing he’d have a quiet place to eat lunch helped too.

He still didn’t love being swarmed in the halls on his way to his first period after the warning bell rang, though. Maybe he could use his well-established reputation for being late for everything and just hide until the halls were empty between classes.

…Or would that not work anymore because everyone knew the reason?

Well, he’d give it a shot anyway.

First period was uneventful, thankfully, aside from everyone spending the period staring at him while he was trying to focus, which was nothing new. He could tell it was irritating both him and the teacher, however, because eventually he set his chalk down from writing math equations on the board.

“Anyone who doesn’t stop staring at Mr Fenton loses an entire letter grade on the next test,” he snapped. “This is school, this is not your free time. Mr Fenton, thank you for at least trying to pay attention.”

“Anytime,” Danny deadpanned, because he wasn’t about to turn down a compliment from a teacher, and he really was trying.

Apparently the threat of losing a letter grade was only enough to sway a couple students, though, likely the ones who hadn’t entirely given up on their grades like he had.

(Although maybe the administration would go easier on him now…?)

Either way, he managed to get at least some of the notes down by the end of the class, and going up to the teacher to ask if there was anything else he absolutely needed to have written down seemed to put him on his better side. Being a teacher’s favorite was also something he wasn’t used to.

And as a second bonus, staying behind and finishing the notes resulted in a late pass, meaning he could wait until everyone had filed out of the hallway.

Or at least, he thought that’s what he was doing.

Instead, as he turned a corner towards his next period, he stumbled across Dash shoving someone inside a locker. And instead of adding him to the bunch like he used to, when Dash spotting him he brightened.

“Fenton! You want to help me stuff these losers in here?”

“Not really,” Danny said, starting over towards them to help out whoever he was bullying. “You know, if you’re really trying to get on my good side, you might try—” he stopped as he reached the locker.

Well, apparently Dash really didn’t care about getting on his good side, because staring back out at him were Sam and Tucker.

“Uh, hey Danny,” Tucker said, waving at him from inside the locker.

Danny turned back to Dash, raising an eyebrow in what hopefully came across as “are you fucking kidding me.”

“Aw, come on, you’re not trying to say you still care about these losers,” Dash said, like the very idea was ridiculous. “You can hang out with anyone you want now! By the way, you’re still coming to football practice later, right?”

“Probably not,” Danny snapped. He held a hand out to Tucker, who grabbed it. Danny turned him intangible and pulled Tucker out until he could stand on the floor.

Tucker looked a little off balance after he let go, but Sam still grabbed his hand when he offered the same to her.

“Okay,” Tucker said as Danny set Sam down. “A little warning next time maybe?”

“Sorry,” Danny said. He glared back over at Dash. “Beat it.”

“Aw come on Fenton, you know I didn’t mean anything by it, I just—”

“Beat it or I tell everyone about that time you wet your pants after I saved your life from the Box Ghost.”

Dash went pale, and then quickly left.

“Wait,” Sam said. “Really?”

Danny snorted. “Oh yeah,” he said, turning back to face them. “I could tell you stories about what Dash is like when he’s in danger.” He paused, looking at them both in concern. “Are you guys okay?”

Sam glared away, crossing her arms. “Fine,” she muttered, a note in her voice that Danny couldn’t read.

“Thanks for the help,” Tucker said. And then they both turned around, clearly about to leave.

“Wait!” Danny yelled after them. “I— please.”

They both turned hesitantly back around.

“We’re late for class,” Sam said.

“I’ll tell them you got caught up in a ghost attack,” Danny said.�� “Just, please can we talk? Just once, and then we can be done. Okay?”

They both exchanged a glance, and seemed to say something to each other with their eyes that Danny couldn’t read anymore.

Finally, they turned back to face him, and they both nodded.

“Where?” Tucker asked.

Well, eventually the bell was going to ring, and then the hall would flood with people who wouldn’t leave them alone. And if they went outside, they’d be met with a similar problem, just with the news crews instead of students. And if they were going to pretend a ghost attack happened, they should probably go somewhere to make it at least a little more believable.

“How do you feel about the roof?” Danny asked.

“Uh,” Tucker said. “Have you been there?”

Danny nodded. “It’s… quiet. Sometimes.”

They were both quiet for another moment, then Sam nodded. “Okay.”

Danny started over to them, glanced at Tucker and said, “This is your warning,” and then grabbed them both by the arms, transformed, and flew them all up through the ceiling and onto the roof.

Tucker stumbled a little as Danny let go of him. “Okay,” he said. “Needed a different kind of warning there.”

Danny smiled a little bit. “Be glad you’ve never fallen through the floor in your sleep.”

“That’s not really something I’ve ever thought would happen to me,” Tucker said.

“Tell me about it.”

There’s a couple seconds of silence, and Tucker and Sam exchanged another glance.

Finally, Sam turned back to him and crossed her arms. “So,” she said. “You’re Phantom.”

Danny sighed. “Yeah.”

“Can I ask…” Tucker started. “I mean what— like how did you become— it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” he added quickly, holding up his hands. “You don’t have to.”

Danny looked at him for a second. It was definitely the same question he was sick of getting from other classmates and the reporters. But Tucker at least had given him an out. And if this really was going to be the last time they talked, he wanted them to know everything.

“You remember the portal in my parent’s lab?” he asked. “How I told you it just started working one day?”

Tucker nodded.

“That’s… not actually true. I turned it on. From… from inside.”

Tucker’s eyes widened. “Dude.”

Danny gave a short laugh. “Yeah.”

“What happened with the ghost fighting?” Sam asked. “I mean did you get pulled into that, or…?”

“What? No,” Danny said. “I mean, kind of, sure, but someone had to do it. I wasn’t going to let people get hurt.”

“But— you got hurt,” Sam said, gesturing at him. “All the time. We talked about it around you. Back when— when we were still talking.”

Danny shrugged. “I can take it. Normal humans can’t.”

The phrasing seemed to throw them off, which was fair, but he didn’t take it back. He wasn’t a normal human anymore.

“Still,” Sam said finally. “You should have told us. We could have helped you.”

Danny’s shoulders slumped. “I know,” he muttered. “I— I really didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“On the news?” Tucker asked. “Along with everyone else? Like we weren’t any different from them?”

Danny winced. “Yeah.”

A pause.

“If I knew everyone was going to find out, I would have told you first,” he added. “For what it’s worth.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Sam asked.

“It just… it felt so big,” Danny said, shaking his head. “And I didn’t know how you’d react. And… I’m sorry.”

Neither of them said anything for a minute. Danny wasn’t sure what exactly they were waiting for, but eventually he had to help fill the silence.

“How long has Dash been bothering you?” he asked.

Both of them immediately looked away.

“Oh, come on. You can’t make this conversation entirely about me.”

“We can’t?” Sam asked raising an eyebrow.

“No. That’s not fair to me or you.”

Sam glared away again.

“Pretty much since everyone found out,” Tucker said a second later. “I guess he figured he couldn’t mess with you anymore so he moved on to easier targets.”

Danny clenched his fists. “Asshole. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Tucker said.

“No, I just mean,” Danny gestured vaguely with his hands, not sure what he meant. “God, I’m so sick of him. Of all of them.”

Tucker gave him a look. “You really don’t like all the praise?”

Danny shrugged. “I dunno. I guess it beats being hunted.”

Tucker and Sam were both silent for a minute. Danny looked at them for a second and saw slight horror on their faces.

Oh. Maybe they hadn’t quite realized that part yet.

“You could have told me about Dash, you know,” Danny said, trying to stop them from thinking too much about that. “I would have helped.”

“We… kind of didn’t think you’d care,” Tucker said hesitantly.

Danny blinked. “What?” he asked.

“I mean, you are kind of a big deal now,” Sam said, gesturing at him.

Danny crossed his arms. “I’m sorry? Did you miss the part where I didn’t want to be?”

“No, I just mean—” Sam started.

“Yeah, I should go hang out with Dash, huh? Or start dating Paulina? Wouldn’t that be just great?”

Sam blinked at him. “Would it not?”

“Of course not,” Danny snapped. “None of them actually give a shit about me. They all just think it’ll get them something if they’re best friends with Phantom. They still don’t like Danny. I don’t want to be friends with people who only ever see one side of me. That—” he looked away. “That already didn’t work.”

“Oh,” Sam said quietly. “Sorry.”

Danny sighed. “It’s okay,” he muttered.

There was another long stretch of silence.

“That wasn’t the only reason, you know,” Sam said.

Danny looked up at her. “What wasn’t?”

“That we didn’t tell you. Or— I guess I can’t speak for Tucker. But it was just kind of embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing?”

“I meant it when I said I noticed you were getting hurt all the time,” Sam said, looking down at the ground. “You’re fighting actual ghosts, and I’m supposed to come up to you and say ‘hey Dash is being mean to me?’”

Danny stared at her. “Sam,” he said. “Don’t be ridiculous. I would have put the ghosts on hold.”

“I don’t want to call you for backup every time I need help,” Sam snapped. “You’re not like— my bodyguard. Even if we had spoken in the last year.”

“Well, I appreciate the sentiment,” Danny said, because he did. “But you— I hate it when you guys are hurt.”

“We hate it when you’re hurt too,” Tucker said, looking pointedly at him. “It’s why we didn’t exactly love it when you pushed away while you were so obviously dealing with something.”

Danny winced. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I should have told you.”

“Yeah, you should have,” Tucker said. And then all of them stood there, none of them saying anything.

Tucker broke the silence again, this time with a sigh. “But for what it’s worth?” he said. “Thanks for saving everyone all the time. And for recently, with that weird ghost king guy.”

Danny nodded. “Anytime,” he said. He didn’t have to tell them the part about how he thought he was going to die. Again.

“And, you know, for what it’s worth?” he said instead. “Thanks for trying. While I was being an idiot. Sorry I didn’t let you help me.”

“How about this,” Tucker said. “We’ll be there to help you as Danny and Phantom if you kick Dash across the football field once or twice.”

Danny blinked, confused. “Huh?”

“That sound good to you, Sam?” Tucker asked, glancing at her.

“Yeah, I wanna see that,” Sam said with a nod. “And I’d like to learn how to kick some ghost butt.” She smirked over at Danny. “Maybe I’ll start with yours.”

“Wait, I thought,” Danny said, looking back and forth between them both. “I thought we said we’d be done after this.”

“Are you kidding? You think you’re getting rid of us again?” Sam asked. “Now that we finally know what’s been going on with you?”

“Sorry, you’re stuck with us this time,” Tucker said, crossing his arms with a grin. “Like we’re gonna let your total loser half go unacknowledged. You can’t be Phantom all the time. Sometimes you have to get teased for how much you like NASA.”

“Or get your butt kicked in Doomed,” Sam chimed in. She raised an eyebrow. “Sound good?”

Danny didn’t try to hide his smile at all, and instead he closed the space between the three of them and wrapped his arms around Sam and Tucker in a hug.

“That sounds great,” he said, meaning every word.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #jazz fenton #dash baxter #maddie fenton #jack fenton #phic phight #my fic

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sephifrog · 16 days

Text

(NSFW) MINORS PLEASE DNI

First soldiers and general nsfw

Sephiroth

He has a sensitive chest and loves when you put your hands on it, warm or cold it doesn’t matter as long as their gentle and your looking up at him he folds.

Tugging his hair-if you tug his hair expect a growl that turns into a chuckle as he pulls you closer

He’s quiet other then the occasional groan or growl

He heals quickly so when you leave your marks on him he wants you to bite as deep as you can so he can keep them longer

Virgin™️ no one can tell me otherwise

Researched virgin however - he’s read books when he can, their hidden somewhere outside his apartment because he doesn’t want anyone to see (he knows Hojo’s put bugs in his apartment he just can’t find them)

Speaking of bugs he refuses to let you over until he knows for sure his apartment is safe

So midnight rendezvous ensue

Going back to books for a sec I feel he has a guilty pleasure for romance - and smut he learns most of his moves from those books and even if you can tell you don’t say anything because he looks awkward and adorable

He first kiss with you wasn’t magical like in all his books, he was clumsy and on guard not wanting anyone to ruin this moment, he actually knocked his teeth against yours but the second one was much better

He wants to have a normal life and you make him feel like a normal person, not treating him as some god or hero just another person and he appreciates that

The first sexual encounter you two have was you riding his thigh

He cums a lot, it’s thick and usually fills you until you leak

Tastes bitter but the right amount of bitter it’s not overpowering

Genesis

Praise this man, he may have an ego but it works in your favour

Also likes hair tugging

Honestly feel like Genesis is the most freaky out of the trio- it’s the red leather that gives it away/j

Bet he would have nipple piercings if he was allowed

And a cock piercing

But anyway

His neck is super sensitive and unlike sephiroth he’s loud, especially if you get embarrassed

Moans and panting would fill the room

He prefers leaving marks on you but doesn’t mind if you litter his thighs and chest with marks

He’s not a virgin but he’s also not as experienced as he lets on feel he’s been with two or three partners

He may be a freak but he’s not afraid to be soft and vulnerable with you if your a long time partner

Likes being pampered

Hero complex- definitely into master and dom stuff

He cums a lot less then sephiroth but it’s still quite a bit

He tastes sweet and salty

Angeal

Lovely man, home maker his thighs are his most sensitive area scrape your nails against them and he’s a goner

Not into hair pulling he’s softer then the other two- more vanilla

King of aftercare, the other two do it but I feel Angeal is just better at it focuses more on you then himself (not to say the other two are selfish or anything he just seems the type to pamper his partner)

Honestly I don’t see him with a high sex drive like he would enjoy it and never say no to you (unless really not in the mood) but he rarely seeks it out

When he does it’s usually after a mission or after training the adrenaline spiking it

A secret romantic more modest then Genesis though

Would take you to a secluded area to watch the sunset/rise

Always walks closer to the road so he can protect you

He cums the least out of the three and unless prompted won’t fill you up

It tastes salty and he doesn’t mind if you can’t swallow

I also feel all three of them would have stronger breeding instincts after a mako injection- they all have breeding kinks- I don’t make the rules

I believe all soldiers have a breeding kink they just get stronger the more mako you get

#final fantasy 7 #final fantasy fanfiction #sephiroth x reader #genesis rhapsodos #sephiroth #Genesis x reader #angeal hewley #Angeal x reader #ff7 x reader #ff7 #smut #ff7 smut

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ashlynredonovitch · 5 months

Text

Secrets In The Street

Warnings: none

Prompt: “basically y/n is a poor girl on the streets and pickpockets/shoplifts to survive, and she does that to willy but he’s super kind to her instead of telling the police on her. Then they fall in love.” - @riordanness (THANK YOU!)

“Come back here you!” A woman’s voice yelled from behind, as you sprint down an alley, a bright, crisp apple in hand from her cart.

You weren’t a runner, not in the slightest, so being chased by a woman for having an apple -well, stealing an apple- wasn’t on your list of things to today. You couldn’t help it, you were hungry. The woman wasn’t even around, you had no clue how she saw you.

You hear the woman groan from behind and turn around just in time to see her give up and walk away. Who knows some other person on the streets could’ve stolen more of her produce.

“Oh well, at least it’s something,” you muttered as you trailed along the darkening alley, holding it carefully so you can keep it safe for later. Walking in the direction towards the bench you spent most nights.

It was obviously nothing special, but no one dared to take your bench. You had a raggedy blanket that you stole from someone a while ago. A little bag with a few things of clothes you found that others had gotten rid of, and that was it.

You had heard of Mrs. Scrubitt's boardinghouse when you first arrived, but initially said no when Bleacher had came up to you. He came to your bench many times, and he eventually stopped insisting after many denials. After everything you had heard through the chain of the Galeries Gourmet, you were glad you hadn’t taken his offer though. At least there was a chance of something out here, better than being stuck in a laundry house for twenty-something years.

Nothing new ever happened in the Gourmet, the same Chocolate Cartel shooing everyone away, you had heard of one man getting through though. Willy Wonka, you had heard of his name. Apparently some magic chocolates? Even though the idea seems preposterous, you were intrigued. You, however, had heard from the gossip that his looks had caught the attention of many along the streets too. So, it apparently wasn’t only the chocolate that had gotten people interested.

Carefully hiding your apple, you started your walk towards the way of the Gourmet, wanting to investigate this new Wonka chocolate yourself.

“It’s certainly grand,” you say, as you walk into the store with the velvety magenta curtains, with a chocolate-looking tree as the centerpiece of the store, “I’m impressed.”

“Hi, I’ve never seen you around here,” a man with a can walked up to you, a top hat on his head, wearing a pleasant smile on his face.

“My name is y/n, y/n l/n, I don’t hang around the Galerie Gourmet much, not really my place of adventure.” You muttered as you look at all of the hanging candy around you, children brushing past you, trying to reach for different sweets.

The man nods his head, as he takes in your appearance, “I get it, I lived on a boat for seven years. My name is Willy, Willy Wonka”

You were not expecting that, he lived on a boat for a while, this interesting looking man who owned this place. You tried to send a brief smile in his direction, “so you’re the one who I heard sent the chocolate-trio to jail, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Wonka looked out the windows, to the places where the old chocolate stores resided in the Gourmet, now empty, as he quickly smirked, “well it had to be done, they were breaking the law, it was just a matter of time.”

You chuckled as you saw the man’s face beam towards a woman and small child who was excitingly grabbing a chocolate bar, “I have to go, it was nice meeting you, y/n.” Wonka said as he smoothly strides over to another family to talk to them.

“Likewise,” you whispered as he was already gone. You felt awful, you wanted to try his chocolate, people here have talked ‘it’s the best chocolate I’ve ever tasted’ many have claimed, and now you wanted a bite. How do you steal from someone who seemed so nice?

The trick to being a pickpocket though, is not getting caught, and you’ve had your own share of the situation going both ways. You quickly grab a little wrapped chocolate and pretend to exam it, glancing to make sure no one else is watching, before quickly stuffing it in your pocket.

“Hey!” A voice yelled, you turned to see if anyone was there, and was met with a small, orange man? You had never seen anyone, if it was a human at all, like it.

“Lofty?” You heard Wonka yell as he came running towards the area your standing in. Bolting quickly, you dodge the running kids and chasing parents, as you try to weave your way to the exit. Just about as you were at the doors, a cane came in front of your middle, stopping your motions rather quickly, “and what do you think you’re doing?” Willy asked, you were close, so close.

“Nothing, I don’t know what that man was talking about, I don’t have anything I promise.” You say as you did a little circle to prove your innocence.

“Why don’t I believe you?” He asked, as an audience formed around you two.

“I don’t know, I didn’t steal anything, Mr. Wonka, I assure you that.” You muttered, wishing everyone would ignore you two, you just wanted to try his chocolate.

“Come with me y/n, we can talk back here.” Wonka guided you towards a room in the back, something that looked like an office of sorts, “I know you took a piece of chocolate.” He sat down in his chair, prompting you to sit down on the one opposite the desk.

You felt defeated, you hadn’t ever actually gotten caught by someone, “I’m sorry.”

Willy quirked his brow as he stared at you across the desk, “so you admit it? Surprised, honestly, I didn’t think you would.”

At that you got upset, “listen I might’ve tried to take chocolate, but I’ve heard everyone talk. People say it’s the best chocolate they’ve ever had. I’ve only had apples or other stolen things to eat for a year and a half. The chocolate cartel knew me well, they would stop me at the door cause they knew I couldn’t pay for it. So do it, call the new chief of police, at least in jail I’ll have a bed.”

Willy stood and put his hands on the desk examining you, transferring his weight, “no.”

“I’m sorry, no?” You were shocked, he caught you stealing and isn’t going to call you in?

“No, there’s something about you. You intrigued me when I first saw you walk in. I’m not going to call the new chief of police. I’m actually going to give you twenty silver sovereigns.” Willy said as he opened the drawer with the money inside of it.

Flabbergasted, shocked, surprised, there weren’t any other words to describe it. You were stealing from him, and now he was giving you money? What kind of man is this? Well…a cute one, but that’s besides the point.

“I can see your shock, my mom raised me well before she passed. If you want to steal a small piece of chocolate, you must be desperate, please take it.” Willy said handing you the sovereigns, a pink flush presenting high upon his cheeks.

“Of all the times to be caught,” you whispered, glancing up in time to seem him removing his coat and hat, “at least it was by someone nice.” A faint blush forming on your cheeks as well.

Willy smiled as he walked around in front of you, “I don’t want you sleeping wherever you are, you can work here, there’s an extra room, we could put a bed in there or something.”

“I can’t believe you’re offering me anything, you could’ve had me arrested.” You told him, examining his brunette curls framing his face for the first time.

“I was taught to help someone in need, and you seem like a good person, you just need a little help. No shame in that, I was caught by Scrubitt and Bleacher when I first arrived. I needed help too. Look at this place, I have more than enough sovereigns to help you out right now.” Willy whispered inching closer to you, as he held out his hand.

Your eyes welled up with tears, no one had been this kind to you in a while, “you have no clue how much this means to me.”

“Well, then you’ll just have to stay here until I know.” Wonka smiled as he leaned in to press his lips to yours.

Let’s just say, you never had to worry about sovereigns or spend another night on that bench ever again.

#wonka x reader #fanfic #timothée chalamet #willy wonka #wonka #wonka 2023 #wonka movie #i love him #he has my heart #the way he says chocolate itches my brain #chalamet wonka #willy wonka x reader

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morgana-larkin · 2 months

Note

Hello, Idk if u're still taking prompts bc it's seems like you're working on a lot of it, but here's a rather, crazy prompt I have in mind (again) afkajdksjsj.

There's a teacher at Abbott for over a year who's somewhat a little private about her life. Particularly her love life which the Abbott staff seemed to have taken an interest of specially Melissa, who's being defensive when she's called out for being too nosey about the teacher, saying she barely knows a thing about her and it's suspicious that maybe she's actually a cop or secret agent lol. Talks of where's the next venue of game night been going around and the group decided [without the teacher even knowing] that the game night would be held at her rather, fancy house to the surprise of the staff, thinking they would see a glimpse of her priv life and finally meet her partner which is apparently non-existent and later on revealed she never had any relationship in the years of her existence, which also, surprised the group yet Melissa unintentionally let a rather loud sigh of relief and the staff and the teacher gave her a questioning look which she became defensive,again, and a stammering flustered mess under the teacher's gaze.

This was so fun to write. I think I steered a little off a bit but still stuck to what you wanted…(hopefully). I tried to make it light, fun and as cute as possible. As always not edited at all and I hope you like it!

On another note: I know I spelled Chessy’s name wrong, my phone autocorrected me and didn’t notice until I posted it. I thought no one would notice until someone messaged me anonymously about it. So I went back and corrected it. I got one more Melissa prompt and two Chessy ones, and I have started on chapter 8 of ‘Worth It’.

The Game of Love

Warnings: reader has a nightmare(small part near the end), I think that’s all…

Words: 3.3k

You walked into the break room after bringing your students to the cafeteria and headed straight for the coffee machine. You’re exhausted after the morning with your kindergarteners.

“Dear, you don’t look good. Rough morning?” Barb asks you and you chuckle.

“Ya I guess you could say that. I don’t know how you do it Barb. Keep them in line all the time, mine were acting like they had sugar all morning.” You tell her with a huff.

“You’re still quite new dear. I’ve been doing this for over 20 years. You just became a teacher 5 years ago and it’s your second year here.” She says calmly, and always the voice of reason.

“I suppose.” You tell her. You grab your coffee and your lunch from the fridge and then go to sit on the couch.

“Y/n, why don’t you sit with us today?” Janine pipes up and you look at her. You know that she wants to ask questions about your life to get to know you since you don’t tell them much. All you’ve mentioned is that you’ve been living in Philly since you were born, your parents are both lawyers, you have a girlfriend, and you got your teaching certificate 5 years ago. In reality you don’t actually have a girlfriend, you just tell people that since you’ve had many friends try to set you up with a woman and it never goes well.

“Um, ok I guess I could today.” You tell her and head over to sit with the trio. You want to open up a bit more to them. With both of your parents being lawyers, you learned to keep a lot to yourself.

“So how have you been? How’s Amelia?” Janine asks as soon as you sat down. Amelia is the name of your made up girlfriend and said you’ve been with her for 2 years.

“I’ve been good, Amelia as well.” You tell her. “How have you guys been?” You ask her and Janine and Jacob both go and rattle on about their day. While looking at Janine talk, you catch Melissa giving you a look. When Janine stops talking, that’s when Melissa chimes in.

“Hey kid, you never say anything about yourself, why’s that?” Melissa questions you.

“I just don’t talk about myself much, that’s all.” You respond back.

“Why? Why are you so secretive?” She pushes.

“I’m not secretive, there’s just nothing interesting about me.” You tell her and she rolls her eyes at you. “Why are you being nosy?” You ask her and she lefts out a huff.

“I’m not being nosy. It’s just, tell us something, like what do you and your girlfriend do on the weekend or something.” She tells you and you quirk an eyebrow at her. “If you don’t say anything, how do we know you’re not a cop or a secret agent or something like that.” She says to defend herself.

“Well I’m not either one, if you want I can show you my certificate and you can see it’s not forged. But you know both my parents are lawyers so I guess I learned to keep stuff to myself.” You say with a shrug.

“Alright.” She says.

“But to answer your question, Amelia and I don’t do much on the weekends. We’re more home bodies.” You tell her and she smiles at you and you blush a bit.

You excuse yourself early, stating you have to get your classroom ready for crafts, and the trio is talking about where game night is gonna be tomorrow night and Ava comes in to get a coffee.

“Why don’t we have it at y/n’s place?” Melissa says and they look at her.

“Wait, are you coming to game night? Cause you didn’t say either way.” Janine asks her and she shrugs.

“I never know what my plans are on Saturday nights.” She says.

“Did you just voluntold y/n’s place?” Jacob asks and Melissa smirks.

“Yep. We can surprise her.” Melissa says slyly.

“We have no idea where she lives.” Janine says.

“I do!” Ava pipes up and everyone looks at her. “What? It was on her application.” Ava says and pours a bunch of sugar in her coffee. Ava says your address and they all have their mouth open in shock.

“She lives there? That’s a fancy neighbourhood! How does she afford that?” Janine gasps.

“I bet her parents bought it for her.” Melissa says and crosses her arms.

“That would explain it.” Gregory says. “We can’t just show up at her place unexpectedly. We don’t even know if she’ll be home or let us in.” He adds.

“She just said she doesn’t go out on the weekends. And she might let us in, and if she does then we can learn more about her. You can tell a lot about a person from seeing their house. Why do you think I never let youse people over to mine?” Melissa says and they all nod in agreement.

“I’m sure she’ll let us in if Melissa was there.” Barb says with a knowing smile. Melissa whips her head around to face Barb

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She questions, confused.

“Barb you’re coming too?” Jacob asks. And Barb nods.

“My Saturday night is free.” She says, Jacob and Janine grinning. Both of them have never showed up to game night before, so the fact that they are now is exciting to the younger teachers.

“OMG, I don’t even know what game I should bring over now. Ava are you coming?” Janine says with a smile.

“Of course not, unlike you nerds, I actually have plans on Saturday night.” Ava says and walks out.

“So there’ll be 6 of us then.” Janine says.

“Oh we can always have a game that requires teams since it’s an even number.” Jacob states.

“Do you guys have a preference for a game?” Janine asks Melissa and Barb.

“A family friendly game. I don’t want to play one of those games with a bunch of sex questions and sex jokes.” Barb says.

“But those are the best ones.” Melissa says. “The less PG the better.”

“Oh how about the game of life?” Janine says. “But we can play as teams. So like you still have your own car and career, but combine income and losses.” They all agree on that and then they all leave to get their students to finish the day.

You are outside of your classroom helping your kindergarteners zip up sweaters and tie shoelaces. One of your students gives you a hug goodbye and you hug them back and tell them to have a good weekend. Unknown to you, Melissa is watching you from her door frame with a smile and soft eyes. Her class is across the hall and one classroom over so it’s pretty close and she has a perfect view to watch without getting caught. Or so she thought at least, she did get caught but not by you, but by everyone else.

The next day, you’re on your couch and wondering what to watch when the doorbell rings. You get to your door and open it and see Janine, Jacob, Gregory and Barb there there with a smile.

“Hello???” You ask them.

“Hi! We thought it would be fun to have game night at your place.” Janine says excitedly. “I brought the game of life.” And you look to see the game in her hands.

You were about to question them more as to why they chose your place without telling or asking you, you open your mouth to speak but then you see Melissa coming up to your door.

“Melissa, you’re here too?” You ask her and she smiles.

“Yep, can we come in?” She asks you and of course you can’t deny her.

“Ya come on in guys.” You say and step to the side to let them all in.

They all walk in and look around your place in awe. “How do you live in a place this big?” Jacob says and you shrug.

“My parents offered to buy me a place when I told them I wanted to be a teacher.” You say with a chuckle. “I declined at first but then the roommate I had drove me to almost wanting to stab him, so I accepted their offer so I don’t commit a murder.” You say and Melissa giggles at that. In reality everyone laughed, but the one you only really notice is Melissa.

“So where’s this girlfriend of yours?” Jacob says and you got so entranced by Melissa that your brain wasn’t processing properly.

“Girlfriend?” You ask him and they all give you a weird look.

“Ya, Amelia?” He says confused. And you suddenly remembered, although with the look they all have, you doubt they’ll believe you with whatever you say.

“I don’t see any pictures of you with another girl around here.” Melissa points out, looking at all your pictures on the wall.

“Alright, I don’t actually have one. I made her up, my friends kept trying to set me up with women and they kept not really going well so I made up a lie.” You say and Melissa lets out a loud sigh of relief and everyone turns to look at her. Melissa’s cheeks turn pink at being heard and put on the spot. “Something you want to say Melissa?” You ask her with a quirked brow.

“Um uh…n-no not really.” She stuttered out and everyone gives a confused look to each other. Barb decides to save Melissa in that moment as Melissa is unable to speak properly.

“Why don’t we go and set up the game?” She says and everyone agrees. You go to your living room and they set it up on the coffee table.

“I have some food I can put out for snacks, I’ll just go get it. Melissa, do you mind helping me?” You ask her and she turns to look at you.

“Uh , ya sure of course!” Melissa says and scrambles to her feet.

There was 2 reasons you asked her for help, you could have asked anyone but you wanted to be closer to her and show her your kitchen. You know from being in an Italian family, she loves cooking and would probably be in awe of your kitchen. And she was, as soon as you both entered, her eyes went wide and mouth open.

“You have an amazing kitchen.” She says and you smile at her.

“Thanks.”

“You must love cooking in it.” She says and you chuckle.

“I actually don’t cook much. I don’t always like doing it.” You tell her and she looks almost offended.

“What? But this kitchen looks like it’s made to be used a lot, to be used to do so much cooking and baking. I mean I would if I lived here.” She says and she set up a perfect opportunity for you.

You get a bunch of chip bags and some dips and place them on the counter. “Well you could always come over and use it as much as you like.” You tell her and her eyes go wide.

“Really?”

“Ya, if you want. I don’t mind.” You say and she smiles.

“I might take you up on that.” She says and you smile at her. “I think you just want to have some of my cooking.” She teases you and you giggle. You have had some of her cooking a couple times over the 14 months you’ve been at Abbott.

“Well I will admit that I love your cooking but you could come and use the kitchen and I don’t need anything in return.” You tell her and she laughs.

She helps you carry all the chips and dips out into the living room.

“Alright, here’s a variety of chips and dips.” You tell them and they all smile.

You then get into teams of two. You expect for Melissa to pair with Barb and for you to end up with Janine or Jacob. Unexpectedly, Barb asks Jacob to team up, and Janine asks Gregory. Melissa gives a look to Barb and Barb just grins at her. Melissa then looks to you.

“Wanna partner up with me.” She asks and you laugh.

“Well thank you for asking, even if there wasn’t any other choice.” You joke with her and she smiles. “I would love to team up with you.” You add and she grins and blushes a bit.

Unknown to both of you, everyone planned this, for you two to team up together and so they all picked someone to team up with before you guys got a chance.

You all pick out a car to use and whether to go straight to a career or college. Jacob and Barb both pick career right away and everyone else picks college and gets debt.

“Oh look at that, I can be either a teacher or a Doctor.” You say and everyone laughs. “I feel I might be a hypocrite if I don’t pick a teacher.” You say and pick teacher and then a salary. Melissa gets super excited and is able to pick firefighter.

“OH HELL YES!” She says as she picks firefighter immediately.

“What was your other choice?” You ask and she looks.

“Uh, accountant.” She says and looks confused at that and you laugh.

Everyone is having fun playing, there’s laughs, cheering and eating. The more the night goes on, the more touchy Melissa gets with you. Now she knows that you’re actually single, she takes the opportunity to flirt with you. She side hugs you when she’s happy with a victory, and sometimes she leaves her arm there for a bit, even after her turn is done. She’s placed a hand on your leg a few times, and everytime she does that, you blush. She rubs your arm when you experience a loss, like paying for the kids for something. “Damn demanding kids. How do we have 4 of them” You say with a pout and she laughs at that. You guys got the most kids and you picked 2 girls and 2 boys, the boys being twins.

You all end up playing again with the same teams but the rule being you can’t pick the same career. Everyone that picked college last time ends up picking career path just to switch it up a bit, while Barb and Jacob pick college.

This time while playing, Melissa has her arm around your waist for half the game and the other half on your thigh. You swear that life is testing you tonight. You and Melissa end up winning both times and Melissa grins at that. After the second time, you all end up watching a movie. The group ends up picking a horror movie, despite your reluctance since you get scared easily.

Everyone is sitting on either your couch or your 2 love seats. Barb and Jacob are spread out on your couch, while Janine and Gregory are on one of the love seats. So you and Melissa take the other seat. Barb and Jacob each use a blanket, Janine and Gregory share one, while you and Melissa also share a blanket.

Since your kids were so hyper today, you were more tired than usual and you were comfy leaning on Melissa a bit. Melissa has the one arm that’s closest to you, propped up on the back of the seat, with the other one on your thigh and her body is turned to you a bit. You end up getting scared pretty early on and accidentally go to hug Melissa during a jump scare. Melissa stops breathing for a second before she puts an arm around you protectively. “It’s alright, you’re safe, I got you.” She tells you and she smiles. Everyone pretends to not notice what happened and hide a grin.

Everyone then decides to leave but since Melissa had a few glasses of wine, so you offer to let her sleep in your spare room so she doesn’t drive home drunk.

Melissa ends up hearing you scream when you awake from a nightmare and she goes over and knocks on your door.

“Y/n, it’s Melissa. I heard you screaming so I thought I’d come to check if you were ok.”

You get out of bed and go and open your bedroom door. “I’m alright, I just had a nightmare. I knew I shouldn’t have watched the movie with you guys. I’ll be too afraid to sleep now, I guess it’s good that tomorrow is Sunday.” You tell her with a small chuckle.

“Oh I’m sorry hun.” She tells you as she leans against the door frame.

“It’s alright, maybe I’ll just watch something on my phone, maybe some stand up and fall asleep again.” You tell her and she looks at you then an idea pops up in her head.

“What if I slept with you?” She says and you look at her with wide eyes and her face mirrors that when she realises how that sounds. “I-I meant in the same bed and sleep… actual sleep not sex.” She defends and you giggle. In your tired state and full of adrenaline from the nightmare, you blurt out something before your brain has time to stop you.

“I wouldn’t say no to either one of those.” You say and she looks at you surprised.

“Really?” She tells you and that’s when it hits you what you said and a huge and noticeable blush makes it on your cheeks.

“Umm, I mean , I… I-I have no idea what I mean actually.” You say and put your hand over your eyes in embarrassment. Melissa takes the hand off your face then looks at you.

“Do you like me? As in a crush.” She asks and you nod, too embarrassed to speak. As soon as you nod, she has a big smile. “Really?” And you nod again. Melissa gets really excited and kisses you. You kiss her back and you both think that it’s wonderful, you both enjoy the kiss but then Melissa pulls back when she realises she didn’t admit her own feelings, verbally anyway. “I like you too.” She says with a huge smile and a sparkle in her eyes.

You giggle at that. “I figured by the kiss.” You tell her and she smiles warmly at you. “I would love the company in my bed to try and sleep, if you’re still offering.” You tell her and she nods.

“Of course. If you want we could cuddle. I was rather enjoying that on the couch.” She tells you and you agree. You cuddle in your bed and you manage to fall asleep wrapped in her arms and a smile on your face, and your nightmares didn’t come back that night.

On Monday morning you come into the break room and get a coffee as usual. You go and sit on the couch next to Melissa to watch the news. She looks at you and smiles and you smile back at her. Everyone is looking at you guys curiously then you see Melissa looking at you with a mischievous expression. She wraps a hand behind your head and pulls you in for a kiss, you kiss her back and hear gasps from everyone. Melissa pulls back after a few seconds and you see everyone grinning.

“Well it’s about time you two.” Barb says. “I’m glad our plan to make you team up worked.” And you both look over at her with a quirked eyebrow.

“You guys planned that?” Melissa says and you smile and lean on her shoulder while she wraps an arm around your waist, still questioning everyone.

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