#but it's up to you to recognize that and think about how to act from there on out. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

harstyle · 1 day

Text

the styles' nanny: part two

Summary: Harry finally realizes his mistake, but is it too late? Featuring a strange encounter with Jamie’s mother, another sad drinking session and an unfiltered conversation that changes everything.

Pairing: plussize-nanny!y/n + older-singledad!harry

Word-count: 10.2k

Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, mentions of sex

here’s part one!

A/N: guys!!! It’s been three months!!! I hope you haven’t completely lost interest in this story :( I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting for so long, I just didn’t expect so many things to come up (plus somewhere along the way I lost motivation). I also hope you enjoy this second and (at least for now) last part. No smut, but maybe in a blurb/oneshot of some kind? Anyway thanks for waiting and happy reading!

—

I’m resigning. I will stay until we find a replacement but not longer than necessary. I thank you for your generosity during my time working for you, but I’m ready for a fresh start as I think it’s what would be best for me right now.

I’ll see you soon,

Y/N

That was the text Harry had received at 11am, just one hour ago. He’d called profusely, probably ten times in total, and sent out a pathetic amount of text messages that had all gone ignored and unanswered.

Harry had lashed out— he could see that now; he’d been horribly unfair and he had taken advantage of Y/N’s inability to express herself in situations of distress. Harry’s worst trait was his short-temperedness and while he had gone through years of therapy to work on it, sometimes it took ahold of him in ways he couldn’t realize until after the fact.

Of course the last thing he’d wanted was for her to resign, which was exactly why her message had twisted his stomach a bit more intensely than he would’ve liked; he had no idea how to rectify this situation. Most things in his life went as he wished and if they didn’t, he found it was easy to make it so they did. But not now— no, he had to think about this carefully.

It had turned one when his phone rang; he was typing away in his office, trying to distract himself. Her caller ID flashed on his screen, but it wasn’t her voice that caught his ears— it was a man’s. A man’s who’s name was Andrew.

“I’m from the viper,” he said, and Harry could swear he started seeing red, “your friend Y/N got a little too drunk for me to feel comfortable sending her away on her own. Is there any way you could come pick her up?”

Harry couldn’t help the string of curses which left his mouth as he gathered his house key. “Is she okay?” He asked, only to receive a conflicted hum.

“She had too many martinis and she was crying earlier. She said something about a fight.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, man. Will you keep an eye out until I get there?”

“Of course.”

As Harry got into his car, he felt the overwhelming urge to chastise her, to keep talking until she finally listened to him when it came to her own safety. Not even one day had passed since he’d had to pick her up the last time— no lesson learned, no regrets.

But then, as he neared the bar, the rational part of his brain advised him against it. Y/N was no child, she was aware of her actions and she knew what was best for her— so for Harry to act high and mighty would be wrong and uncalled for.

He needed to just be there for her. Drop the barrier and be there.

He was ready to offer that to her.

—

Y/N could swear her eyes were playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be unrealistic, really, her vision had become blurry about an hour ago— but, well, she would probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. He wore jeans and a shirt and his hair was still styled for work; Andrew was pointing at her, and so his green eyes followed. When he spotted her, Y/N felt naked under his gaze.

And before she knew it, he was walking toward her.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded, lower lip jutted out in a pout. Y/N had gone drinking in the hopes of distracting herself— and yes, maybe it wasn’t exactly working, but it definitely wouldn’t start working if he was physically here.

“Andrew called me. Stand up, I’m taking you home.”

Andrew was somebody she‘d met a few hours ago. Originally he‘d flirted with her, asking questions about her as she sat at the bar willing to answer all of them soberly— but once eleven had struck, all she could talk about was Harry. Y/N wasn’t fond of airing dirty laundry so she‘d left the gory details of their fight out, but Andrew knew of a fight.

She was starting to regret it now that Harry was here.

Instead of doing as he’d asked— or ordered, more like, she leaned into the booth further.

“No.”

His eyebrow raised, “no?”

“I don’t leave or go out with dickheads. You taught me that.”

He looked ticked off and it satisfied something within her that had been needing it all night. When he breathed a sigh, eyes closing momentarily, she knew she had him.

“Y/N, would you please humor me and let me take you home? We can keep talking in the car, but not in front of these people.”

“What if I don’t want to go home, huh? Why are you always telling me what to do like you have the right? You’re not my dad.” Her words were slurred and her expression loose. Then she laughed to herself, giggled actually, ridiculously loud. “That’s funny, of course you’re not my dad cause he’s dead! Dead, six feet underground, you know? Probably lower, cause he definitely didn’t go to heaven! He’s, like, really deep underground.”

Concern warped his features.

“Y/N,” he warned, “please.”

She’d turned heads.

“But you know what you and my dad have in common? Yelling. Just yelling, for no fucking reason— yell yell yell, make it feel like my fault even though it isn’t. Right? That’s what my dad used to do to my mom, you know that? That’s why he’s in hell.”

She was pointing an accusatory finger at him, slurring even more than before.

“And you know what I said to her when she left him? That I would never let a man treat me that way. Never! Promised, hand on my heart and everything, I promised. But you’re different, aren’t you? Cause I like you, cause you’re not like my dad.” Her face fell again into the surfaces of her palms, “you’re not like my dad, but you reminded me of him. And I feel— feel like I’m betraying my mom.” Y/N hiccuped quietly, stumbling over a few words.

The gravity of her words were not lost on him— in fact, he’d never felt as guilty in his life.

“Hey,” he beckoned her to look at him, placing his tentative hand atop her arm, “we’ll talk about it. About everything. But not now. Not here.”

“You’re so confusing, you know that? One second you’re really nice to me and then— and then you aren’t.”

“Sweetheart,” he grasped her face as a last attempt to catch her undivided attention. Harry thumbed at her cheek and stared dutifully into her clouded eyes, “let me take care of you tonight. I’ll make it better.”

In all fairness, she’d lost the fight the second his eyes had met hers. There was something about them, maybe their deep shade of green or how effortlessly she could read them, that could probably persuade her into doing anything.

“Fine,” she mumbled after a minute, letting Harry wrap an arm around her waist as they walked. On their way out Y/N said goodbye to Andrew and stayed quiet otherwise, choosing to give Harry the silent treatment. Harry knew he couldn’t expect her to speak to him, so he didn’t force it.

As they drove, Harry couldn’t help glancing over every once in a while to study her expressions. There was barely a moment she wasn’t staring out the window watching cars drive by; even when his hand instinctively landed on her thigh she didn’t react, only moving it away slightly from his touch.

“Are you driving me to my apartment?”

And although both of them knew he’d really been directed toward his house, Harry still pretended to have chosen to take another route. “Course,” he muttered hoarsely, trying to mask his embarrassment with a quiet cough. Y/N sighed, her eyes pressing shut for a moment as she tried to let the guilt roll off of her back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.

“Where’s Jamie?”

He clicked his tongue. “Still at my mother’s.”

“Oh.”

The stubborn thing she was, Y/N refused Harry’s help getting out of the car. Instead she opened the door by herself, almost tripped when she jumped down from her seat and kept a distance anyway. Harry still watched, though, ready to help if needed.

Y/N unlocked the door (failing to find the keyhole several times) and kept it wide open for Harry to follow behind. The first thing she did was toe off her shoes followed by falling into bed.

“Y/N, have some water.”

“Stop telling me what to do,” she uttered, but accepted the glass of water anyway.

He ignored her. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m tired.”

“You can sleep as soon as you’ve changed and washed your face.”

She groaned, pulling a blanket over her head, “Harry…”

“Y/N.”

That stern mention of her name was enough to get her out of bed, limbs pretty much hanging loosely from her body as if she had no control over them— and honestly, it felt like she didn’t. Her eyes closed as Harry wiped a cool cloth over her face, ridding it of a light layer of makeup and sweat, everything that had accumulated at the bar. There were times she leaned into him, forehead falling to his shoulder and arms wrapping instinctively around his waist for support. She could swear that for a moment he’d pressed his lips to her forehead, but the daydream she was in barred her from really registering it.

“Why’d you go out drinking again?”

“Wanted to.”

“Told you not to do that. I meant it.”

“Well people keep hurting my feelings,” she mumbled, “and drinking your pain away is kind of a tradition in my family, so.”

Y/N had never really shared personal details about her family to Harry, but… well, the words were flowing right out of her mouth and the memories reincarnated newly in her head. She was referring to her mother, the former alcoholic in the family. Growing up her mother had drunk so much that she’d almost died from liver failure. As a small child Y/N had promised herself never to end up like her, but she was starting to understand more and more why her mother spent so many years drinking.

Harry‘s thoughts stayed internalized, but he made sure to make her feel heard. Rubbing over the top of her eyebrow, his breath hit her forehead as he spoke, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it.”

Her eyes peeked open, the previously warm towel no longer warm. Harry ran it under water again. “Deserve what?”

“Everything, especially the way I behaved earlier. I should’ve taken a moment to myself, instead I lashed out on you.”

It wasn’t until now that Y/N noticed the close proximity between her and Harry— obviously she knew he was cleaning her face for her, but it didn’t really click until now, she supposed. She could see everything, but it didn’t really matter; there was nothing about Harry, especially on him, that could deter her from thinking of him as the most beautiful man alive. Imperfections and all.

The towel met her neck this time, the other side held upright by his steady hand. She could feel his thumb tracing shapes on the surface of her skin and although she was trying very hard not to think of him in any inappropriate way, the image of his hand wrapped around her throat awakened something horrible within the confines of her intoxicated mind. It stayed there.

It was self destructive how often she spent thinking about him, really.

“You still there, baby?”

And he was so gentle— whenever he wasn’t yelling at her, of course— and soft, knowing the lines of what she could handle and what she couldn’t. No man had ever been this considerate and while it may just be his nature, it meant everything to Y/N. As the boundaries had begun to blur more and more, it became easier to misinterpret normal gestures for something more, something so much realer than it could ever be.

But he was calling her baby, and nobody had done that before.

“Yeah.”

“You were much more mouthy back in the bar,” he breathed out, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t wanna yell at me anymore?”

“No, I‘m not like you.”

“Ouch.”

Harry was humoring her and while it was really really nice; this whole thing, the gentle touches and the giggles shared in between a serious conversation, Y/N couldn’t let it get to her head.

“You were really mean to me and I didn’t do anything.”

His eyes searched for hers, but hers were stuck to his chest. “I know. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but I’ll spend a long time trying, I promise. You’re so sweet to me, so nice, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know that, right?”

And although her heart was still furiously bleeding out, she was willing to ignore that for now. Throw bandages on and refuse a trip to the hospital because really she was just fine. There was just something about how he spoke to her that made it feel like she was floating— like she really was fine.

“Yeah.”

“Good, it’s very important to me that you do.”

Y/N’s eyes nearly glazed over when she thought about Harry being like this on the regular. It was a dangerous game they were playing.

“Look at me,” he breathed, beckoning her to do so with the grip he still had on her throat. Her eyes looked so innocent in this moment and although Harry knew Y/N was nothing if not tainted, she looked like she’d never been touched by the realities of life. “So pretty, you know that? So beautiful.”

She felt smaller in his gaze. “You think so?”

Y/N didn’t think anyone had said that to her ever. Nothing of the sort.

“I know so.”

“Thank you.”

“How about we go find you something comfortable to sleep in, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N shook her head, willing to rid herself of this weird tension in her body before allowing Harry to lead her back into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed as Harry retrieved some clothes and looked up at him expectantly when she could barely keep upright.

“You sure?”

“I physically can’t stand up, Harry.”

And though he looked torn, he ended up reaching for her sweater to pull it over her body, revealing the lacy bra she hid underneath. Y/N’s breasts had always been the biggest ones amongst her skinny friends and growing up she often felt ridiculed for it, though she supposed she could count on Harry not to judge. They were just there, so why pretend like they weren’t?

For Harry, taking off Y/N’s sweater was a completely different experience and although he didn’t wish to be a creep, he couldn’t help but letting out an awkward but knowing cough when he accidentally stared right down them. He hastily threw the shirt he’d brought her onto her torso, scared of what would happen if he were to delay it any longer. Harry prided himself on being a respectful man, but being with Y/N had always tested that quality of his.

“What?” She asked, a touch of feigned innocence to her tone, and he rushed to shake his head.

She knew what.

“Nothing.”

“M’kay.”

“Stand up for me?”

Y/N felt less amazing about her thighs, to be frank. She couldn’t really explain it, but they weren’t visually pleasing to her; cellulite littered the back of them and she obviously didn’t have a thigh gap, but that had become less of an issue. Y/N felt like her thighs had no real redeeming quality. It was a destructive way of thinking, she would admit, but… well, she’d carried that around since childhood.

As Harry pulled down her jeans, she felt void of anything. She didn’t exactly feel great, but better than when other guys had taken off her trousers. It was probably his age. She figured maturity increased as age did, and if Harry were to dislike the look of her body, he would be graceful about it.

“Hold onto my shoulders and lift your right leg.”

He got on his knees in front of her, pulling one leg in after the other. After doing so successfully, he allowed her to get under the covers.

“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into the covers, eyes fluttering to a close.

He hummed, “I know.”

“But thank you.”

“Don’t have to thank me for taking care of you.”

“Mhm,” she breathed, “it’ll be the last time, I promise.”

Sleep was pulling at her eyelids.

“Last time what?”

He received no answer. Upon a closer look, he saw Y/N completely overtaken by sleep. Her lips were situated in a pout and her foot peeked out of her thick comforter in the way he had already seen last time he’d brought her to bed.

He allowed himself more time to watch over her this time, scared that if he were to leave it would be the last he saw of her. The anxiety settled on his chest in heavy waves and the image of a precious Y/N was slipping further away from his mind. He had been a horrible person, allowing himself to become the type of man he’d always tried not to be… and he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t let this be that with her. He couldn’t bare it.

Harry had always thought of himself to be tattooed with imperfections. As he stared down at Y/N’s sleeping body, he couldn’t help the guilt that wrapped around him like a torture blanket. To him, she was perfect. She was kind and beautiful, she carried her heart out on her sleeve and overcame her past to grow in spite of painful trauma.

What he didn’t know, though, was that she thought the same of him. She thought of him as the most capable person, strong and kind. Her heart yearned for him in ways no one could comprehend.

She thought of him as everything but instead of embracing it, he’d pushed her away… and now both of them had to suffer the consequences.

—

Harry had stayed the night, but he hadn‘t slept; he‘d spent the night lying on Y/N‘s uncomfortable couch with various thoughts swirling around in his head. At eight he‘d stood up, started preparing breakfast and wasted time looking through social media to distract himself from the girl sleeping in the next room.

Y/N slipped out thirty minutes later, surprised when she saw Harry moving through her kitchen as though he knew it like the back of his hand. She coughed, not knowing where to put her arms and folding them in instead.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he tried to smile, “I hope you’re hungry, I made you a bagel with eggs if that’s okay.”

“That’s… yeah,” she swallowed a lump in her throat, stepping close to the counter, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“My pleasure. You—“ he pointed at the side of her face, “you have something there.”

“Oh, I—“ Harry reached forward to swipe at it, wiping his finger clean on his trousers and stroking her cheek once for good measure. “Thanks. Probably toothpaste.”

“Probably.”

Silence decorated their next few seconds, awkward glances and uncomfortable tension felt down to the bones. Then Harry straightened up and breathed in, simultaneously Y/N opened her mouth.

“I—“

“Are you— oh, sorry.”

“No, you go on,” she urged, waving a dismissive hand at him.

Harry smiled, “are you okay?”

“Uh, yes. Yeah, I am actually. Bit of a headache but that‘s expected. Thanks for…picking me up, I guess. I didn‘t want to be a burden, but I kind of told Andrew about you and he got a hold of my phone…“

Harry’s eyebrows drew together, “no, I’m glad he called. You should always reach out to me when you’re in trouble.”

“Yeah, but last time didn’t go over very well, so…”

Harry cleared his throat. “Right, I’m sorry about that. I was out of line, but that doesn‘t mean I don‘t want you to call when you need help getting home. There’s nothing more important than your safety, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but…” Y/N shook her head, overwhelming thoughts swirling endlessly inside rendering her speechless. There wasn’t anything she could say to efficiently express these concerns to him— Y/N had always been bad at communication and the last thing she wanted was to poke the bear even more.

“No go on, tell me.”

“I just… I don’t know. I felt like shit after last time.”

“I know,” he breathed out lowly, “I know you did, and I’m sorry. I didn‘t mean it.”

“But clearly you did if you felt the need to say it. I mean, it doesn’t just come out of nowhere, those accusations. You felt them. And I was thinking about it all day yesterday and… you were probably right, we are too unprofessional.”

“No, sweetheart. I enjoy our dinner sessions and I appreciate that you feel comfortable to talk to me when something bothers you—“ It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing he could say to change her mind.

The words that left her mouth were mostly involuntary. They were a protective barrier, a reason to say no, back off and a clear indication that she had no capacity for this. And although it hurt somewhere deep within her chest to express them, to become a viscous reminder of last night, especially when Harry’s eyebrows drew together in deep regret, it needed to be said.

“Harry, I meant it when I quit last night.”

A reasonable response was lost on Harry. For a moment he needed to think, to gather his thoughts— not that there were very many. He had to admit, he’d hoped they would gloss over her drunken text and pretend as though it hadn’t been. He’d hoped that Y/N felt a small spark of embarrassment when she thought about it, that she looked back on it with regret. Alas, she didn’t.

“Oh.”

He pulled back, shoulders tensing when the gravity of her statement had pulled him down along with it.

“Yeah. I mean, I love working with Jamie, I do, but I—“ I’m scared that I’ll form an attachment I will never recover from. I’m scared of the proximity we share, of how sometimes you let your fingers brush over my thigh. I’m scared because I don’t know what you mean, scared because psychoanalyzing doesn’t work on you. Or maybe— maybe I’m scared of love. With you. Or with anyone. Maybe I’m not capable of being loved. And maybe I’m not even capable of loving and maybe— just maybe, this will be the end of me. And for what? For you to say that the affection you extend to me is customary? That I have a tainted perception of reality, of love? Because I know I do. I know I do, and yet hearing it from you would hurt much more. And so maybe… maybe in this case, finding out isn’t worth the hassle. You’ll probably find I’m not either.

There was so much to say and such little capacity to say it. All Y/N could think to do was sputter words she didn’t mean and hope he understood because the alternative was ridding herself of every. little string of dignity she still possessed and she simply couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow herself to unfold in front of the only person who’s perception of her she wanted to nurture. No one had stayed. Even if he would come to leave, she wanted him to leave with a sound picture of her.

“But you…”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t… because of yesterday?”

“No. I mean, I guess that was a bit of an eye opener, but I—“ Y/N breathed in, “I think I’m getting too attached to you. You and Jamie.”

His eyes widened just a bit and he took a small step toward her. It was so small she hardly felt him entering her space. “I don’t mind that, Y/N, you don’t need to quit—“

“I do though,” she interrupted him, a stern undertone to her voice. She coughed and said again, “I mind.”

“I think you’re still angry about yesterday.”

She had to contain the urge to roll her eyes, “I’m not. This is separate from that.”

“So it’s the attachment that’s the problem?”

“Yes.”

Harry scoffed, “that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with attachment.”

“It depends on what kind, doesn’t it?”

“Enlighten me then.”

Y/N’s mouth closed. She couldn’t do that.

So she deflected.

“Harry, my contract says that as long as I stay long enough to find a fitting replacement—“

“Fuck the contract, Y/N,” the volume of his voice almost caused Y/N to flinch into herself, “I know what my contract says. What I don’t know is why you’re giving up a job that you love, a job that pays you well, for reasons you can’t even explain to me.”

“Is my resignation not enough for you? Would hearing my reasoning really change anything if I will keep insisting on resigning no matter how often you’ll advise me against it? I doubt it matters. I doubt you would even so much as give a shit, Harry."

Y/N shook her head, tears building in the ducts of her eyes. Her father had been of great emotional abuse, her mother had spent half of her life drinking herself to liver failure and her brother had moved to Madrid as soon as he’d turned eighteen, leaving Y/N to fend for herself in a household that contained not one ounce of love— and yet this felt worse. This felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest, dropped on the floor beating and bleeding.

“You think I don’t give a shit? Really?” Y/N couldn’t help rolling her eyes, huffing when he tapped her on the wrist, muttering with a steady furrow in his brow, “don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“You know why I’m quitting and yet you want to hear it come out of my mouth. I’m not going to do it.”

“I don’t know.”

She almost laughed, “sure”

“Sweetheart—“

“Don’t call me that.” She gave him a sharp glance before heading back to her bedroom, arms falling to the sides of her timid frame. Harry stopped her just short of the door, a steady hand gripping around her wrist. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth, built up tears finally streaming down in heaps— embarrassment brewed in her stomach and she couldn’t bare to look him in the eye anymore. Harry’s touch elicited a spark on her skin, blistering with uncomfortable heat. “What?”

“You’re being rude. I really think you should consider this.”

“There’s nothing to consider, okay?! I… I feel too much for you, there’s too— there’s too much, okay? There’s too fucking mu—“

What would transpire between them next was a kiss. Initiated by Harry.

It was barely a kiss, more of a brushing of the lips— tentative movements, gentle breaths. It was the minimum and yet it was more than enough. There was an electric feeling that dragged through Y/N’s entire body as she closed her eyes and let herself feel. Harry didn’t seem very much like a gentle lover— generous, without doubt, but Y/N had always pictured him as a pin-to-the-wall, bite-to-the-lip type of man and she quickly received confirmation when he began squeezing her hand as if feeling restrained.

Y/N hadn’t kissed many people; less than five, probably, but she could say with certainty that this was already better than all of the other ones combined. She knew why. She knew the reason was that she genuinely liked Harry, that he made her feel things she’d never felt before.

But then again, Harry was her boss. He was off limits, taboo. And he was absolutely out of his mind right now.

“Wait.”

His breath fanned against her chin. “You don’t want me to?”

“No I do, I just—“ she shook her head, thoughts in a disarray like they’d never been before.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

Her mouth opened but nothing came out, merely staggered breaths as she tried to regain the ability to think. The interruption came when Harry’s phone rang on the counter.

He groaned, took a glance at the screen and broke away when he saw his mother’s name flash as the caller ID.

“Yes?” He called into the speaker, frustration molding his features as he kept on listening. “Yes, okay, tell him I’m on my way. Give me twenty minutes… Love you too, bye.” When he turned to her, phone slipped into his back pocket, she could tell that he yearned to say more, that he yearned for her to say more. She knew he would halt his actions, leave time for her to get her words out before he left for whatever emergency he’d been called in for, that if she only said something he would consider putting her as a second priority after his son. She knew that he would make her feel important. But she said nothing. And nobody, not even the most patient person in the world could work with nothing. “Jamie’s asking for me. I need to go get him.”

She only nodded.

He sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Alright. I need to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

She stood at exactly the same spot as Harry slammed the door shut, unwavering.

Her heart was still pounding as the words she should’ve expressed minutes ago died on her lips.

—

Résumés had been sent to him, interviews were lined up, and Y/N had received no reply back. She hadn’t received anything, really, just a text on Thursday that he would arrange for another babysitter to come in for Jamie while he left for his late meeting, to which Y/N had typed a dry ‘ok’ and left it to sit in her inbox.

The week had started fresh and Y/N had finally left home again (only to her classes, but still). After days of not working, she was scheduled to pick up Jamie at two thirty and hoped for these last weeks to resume seamlessly. She’d gotten the car from the house, locked the door back up again and made the ten minute drive down— everything was fine.

Until now. Until Y/N set foot on preschool grounds and noticed another woman hugging her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. She seemed unfamiliar at first— glasses tipped back on her long blonde hair, a pencil skirt concealing her toned legs. Y/N had no idea who she was dealing with until she took a closer look and recognized this woman to be Stacie. Y/N had seen a picture of Stacie up in Harry’s study— she seemed to have changed a little, but the structural features she associated with her still remained intact through all these years (big blue eyes, defined cheekbones).

As soon as Jamie’s eyes set on Y/N, though, Stacie’s hands were torn away from his shoulders as he ran for her. She got on her knees, his familiar smile melting away all of the cold spots she’d developed in over a week of not seeing him.

“I miss you!” Jamie pulled away to plant a kiss right on the top of the apple of Y/N’s cheek, something he only started doing recently. She guessed he’d only really learned how to. “Daddy said you pick me up today.”

“I missed you too, buddy. I see somebody else came to see you?”

“Oh, Stacie. She wants to take me home but daddy said you pick me up.”

“Yeah, okay. Do you want to wait a second while I talk to her?”

Jamie nodded, moving to stand next to her (small hand clutched in hers, of course) while Y/N greeted Stacie. Well, greet was a bit of an exaggeration; she didn’t get to before Stacie decided to introduce herself first.

“I’m his mom, I called Harry in the morning telling him I’d come for pick up. I have a packed schedule, so I’d appreciate it if you could let go of my child.”

Y/N almost laughed, the audacity of this woman a damn near mystery to her. “Wait. Don't talk about him like some sort of property. Harry never told me about anyone else coming to pick up Jamie.”

“He must’ve forgotten. He’s a busy man, I’m sure he would confirm—“

“Well then let’s call him, shall we?”

Stacie wanted to interject, she could tell, but Y/N had dialed way too fast for that to happen. The phone only had to ring once before Harry picked up, his voice coming in clear.

“Hey, you‘ve got Jamie?”

“I’m here at preschool but Stacie showed up before me and wants to take him home. You didn’t tell me, so I…” she trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.

It seemed to take a minute to click. “Stacie? His mother showed up at school?”

“Yes, was this arranged beforehand or…”

“No. No, don’t let her take him home. Shit, we talked about this last week, I don’t—“

“You… you talked about this last week?” The confusion dripped from Y/N’s voice and all she could hear was Harry’s attempt at concealing profanities. “What did you talk about last week?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just get home, tell her to call me to clear this up. I don’t want Jamie knowing Stacie is his mother yet, okay? So just get out of there before she tells him herself.”

A frown settled over Y/N’s features before she continued to end the call, scoop Jamie up into her arms and walk away after quick word. Stacie protested, but both her and Y/N knew she wouldn’t do much more than that in fear of causing a scene.

Y/N failed to pay attention to Jamie as she fastened the belt on his seat, only registering when she looked back into the rearview mirror and noticed the little pout starting to pull at his small lips.

And when he finally asked her, little quips of fear polishing his quiet tone: “is Stacie my mum?”, all Y/N could do was pretend she hadn’t heard and hope he would forget, knowing he wouldn’t.

—

Y/N bombarded Harry with questions the second he‘d unlocked that front door.

“Y/N—“

“No, I’m entitled to know this time. I’m entitled to know when she ambushes us at preschool. Don’t you want me to know what I’m dealing with if it happens again? That woman almost fucking kidnapped him—“

“Calm down, Y/N. Sit down and I’ll explain it to you.”

She huffed in annoyance, listening nonetheless. She set herself down on one of the kitchen stools and tried to take control of her breathing. She watched as he took a seat opposite her.

“Stacie came to visit last week on Wednesday. She’d called beforehand, asking if it would be okay. She came and we had dinner, we talked some things out while Jamie was in bed. She apologized, asked if we could start working things out again. I agreed under the condition that she would approach the idea of Jamie as a friend first. She said that she would respect my wishes and that she wouldn’t come near him unless I gave my permission. That’s it. So far all Jamie knows is that she’s a friend of mine. I didn’t—god,” Y/N felt bad when Harry buried his head in his hands, itching to reach out in comfort. She chose to play it safe, settling a gentle touch over his thigh. “I know I should’ve known but it seemed real when we spoke last, you know? I didn’t think she’d do this.”

Y/N hadn’t seen Harry this distraught over anything. “I’m sorry. That’s heavy.”

“It’s—“ he sighed, “it’s something I keep having to deal with. All she wants is to have him on the weekends, have him pose as her cute son. But she doesn’t actually care about him.”

Y/N couldn’t do much more than nod. She was caught between playing the comforting role and being honest. She wasn’t sure if this was the place, if her opinion would be welcomed or if it would contribute to Harry’s sorrows. “She seemed… uncooperative when I spoke to her at school. Like she was in a rush or something, it scared me.”

“Yeah, she’s hardheaded.”

“Right.” Y/N pulled her hand away when Harry lifted his head, clearing her throat and averting her eyes. The change in her behavior didn’t go unnoticed, though he knew he shouldn’t ask. “So when you talked… when you agreed to working things out, you meant that in a friendly manner? Or were you going to be… a couple again?”

“We… I don’t know. We kissed— well, she kissed me a few days ago when we met up again for a playdate with Jamie. Never discussed it any further.”

“Do you love her?”

Y/N had begun to hold her breath in, but she didn’t notice it.

Harry did. He noticed the suction of a deep breath and he noticed how his own hands got clammy with sweat.

Harry looked skeptical, as though there was something on his tongue ready to peek out tentatively, only it couldn’t because he had to spare her feelings. Because there was little Y/N, intimidated by everything she’d ever had to face in her lifetime— little Y/N who had rejected him and still expected loyalty. Little Y/N who couldn’t have him, but had always wanted to.

“I think a part of me will always love her. I mean, she gave me Jamie and he’s… the best thing to ever happen to me, really. I love him, and I will always love her for giving birth to him. I will always love her for the good parts of our relationship.”

Y/N hated herself for hating his answer. It was a perfectly reasonable answer, truthful as Y/N expected, yet her mind wandered past the barriers, past the barbed wire. She couldn’t fully grasp how he could still love her— and yet she understood perfectly. There was Jamie, of course, but there were many other things. There was her hair, her bright complexion, the beautiful curve of her hips and the effortless look of her makeup. There was the fashion, the business-casual look that seemed to mesh so well with Harry’s. There was this calling when Y/N pictured the two of them standing side by side, almost like they were destined to be together. She could imagine it perfectly, the many years they had spent together. She could see it. And it looked perfect.

Y/N coughed, head nodding along to his words as if she were listening to instructions and not some heartfelt confession. It seemed instinctual, though.

When it came time for her to speak, she let a smile mold her lips into a perfect crescent moon. She never thought faking a smile could hurt more than a physical injury, but she’d been proven wrong. Everything looked intact— Y/N was sure she almost seemed unaffected from the outside. She wasn’t, though, and she wondered if Harry would recognize that.

“That’s… yeah. I get that.”

This was the first time Y/N actually felt the age gap between her and Harry. He sat here, ready to air it out. He spoke about his concerns, about the state of his son, and the only thing she could fret about was herself. Her sadness had no weight, it was too insignificant in comparison to his and it made her feel pathetic. It made her feel young and stupid and pathetic.

Harry deserved better than this. He deserved careful consideration, security for his child. He deserved trust and honesty, a sort of transparency Y/N couldn’t afford to offer to him yet.

“That’s not to say that I want to approach her in that way, especially after today, but…” he trailed off, only finding his words when it’d clicked that she wasn’t responding, “I just want you to understand that it’s complicated.”

Y/N nodded. Then she cleared her throat, ready to rid herself of this spotlight. She always messed up in the spotlight. “Um, Jamie asked me if Stacie was his mum today. I didn’t answer, but you might want to think about what you’ll say to say to him next time. I also sent you a few résumés, I’ve talked to a few people and have set up interviews, the first one is scheduled for tomorrow—“ she visibly flinched when his hand came down on her thigh, “please, Harry. I can’t. Please just let me finish this.”

“Okay.”

A deep breath, “it’s scheduled for tomorrow after you come home from work. Do you want me to come on the call, or are you okay interviewing yourself?”

“I’d like you to come.”

“Okay. I’ll stay longer tomorrow.”

“Can we talk about us now? Properly?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Harry almost laughed, “there’s a lot to talk about. We just added on a good bit today.”

“I’m quitting. That’s it.”

“You know, I don’t understand why you insist that there’s nothing going on—“

“Because there isn’t,” she snapped. “There isn’t. I’m going to check up on Jamie.”

She was teary-eyed as she slipped from the stool, ready to conceal it all for the ball of sunshine sitting in the living room. She could do it all for Jamie— she would do it all.

Before he could say any more, Y/N disappeared behind the door. Harry could hear the two of them converse in the next room and his heart felt heavy as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. Harry had always known what to do— he was a CEO, for god’s sake. He was trained to find solutions, take control of seemingly unfixable problems, to make life easy. And yet, this girl thoroughly baffled him. He had no idea what the fuck to do anymore.

And yet, he was determined to keep trying.

—

Two people had interviewed over zoom and Harry had hated every one of them. His excuses were vague, something about the lack of experience (even though they both knew that Y/N hadn’t had any when she’d started either) and the supposed ‘wrong vibe’. One time he’d criticized a woman for her ‘ridiculously shrill voice’, at which point Y/N had rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk home in a fury.

The next day Y/N showed up again, ready to interview three more people. She sat beside Harry as he set up the video call and listened as he asked questions. Y/N was mostly in attendance to listen and give her honest feedback by the end (she really did want to find someone spectacular for Jamie), so the difficult part came later. For now she could be quiet.

This woman, aside from qualified, seemed very kind. So far, it’d been the best candidate.

“So how flexible is time for you?”

“Very. I do online classes for uni, so I can very well manage my time how I see fit.”

“That sounds fine. And you’ve had plenty of experience, I see.”

“Yes, I started babysitting when I was fourteen, so for more than ten years now. The last family I worked for just moved out of the country, which is why I’m looking for something new, but I was with them three years.”

This woman had nothing but good evidence she would be the best for the job; no doubt better than Y/N. She had the experience, she seemed mature, she looked kind— she would act in a professional manner, something Y/N had never quite figured out yet.

That didn’t matter to Harry, though, because as soon as she’d gotten off the call, he muttered a ‘no’.

“Why not?” Y/N asked, bewildered by his blunt response, “she was literally perfect for the job.”

Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, busying himself with his laptop, “just didn’t feel right.”

“Okay, this is just getting too unreasonable at this point. You didn’t like the lack of experience, fine, that one woman’s shrill voice, fine— but this? She just didn’t feel right?”

“I don’t expect you to understand—“

“No. We’re not doing that.”

“It’s a feeling, Y/N. When I interviewed you, I got the feeling that it’s right, that I’d feel safe leaving Jamie with you. It takes trust.”

“But she’s— she’s so qualified, she—“

“Experience isn’t everything. It’s important, but not everything. You weren’t experienced when you came for your interview but you gave me the right feeling. Thus you were qualified for the job.”

And she understood, really, but it still fucking pissed her off. “That’s fucking— you’re being too picky.”

“For good reason.”

“At least two of the people we interviewed were qualified enough for a test run.”

“We still have about fifteen to go and there’s no rush.”

Y/N found this ridiculous. She muttered under her breath, pushing some hair back with a sweaty palm.

“Why is it that everything I do makes you angry?”

“Because you’re fucking infuriating.”

He breathed a chuckle, “that’s nice,” and closed his laptop. “Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me. I’ll make your favorite pasta.”

“I don’t—“ but Harry had already gotten to work, tuning her voice out without much trouble. He smiled at her, almost mocking.

“Do you have another job lined up?“

“Uh,” Y/N didn’t want to admit no, that she hadn’t even begun looking properly (save for that one café down the street from her apartment), knowing the consequences and aware of the tiring reprimanding from Harry ahead. A pitied glance. A pathetic speech. “I’ve applied.”

“Where?”

“A cafe.”

“Where?”

“You wouldn’t know it.”

“Are you hired?”

She huffed, “no.”

“Where else?”

“Um, a… another café. It’s in... near my apartment.”

“Would be bad if it wasn’t,” he quipped, paying her a shortened glance from over his cooking pot. “Do you need help?”

“No.”

“Financial help, maybe?”

Y/N groaned, “no.”

“Because I wouldn’t mind sending you some money—“

“Harry,” she cut him off in an instant, glaring daggers at him, “I’ll just send it back. I’ve saved up enough to get by for a few weeks.“

“That doesn’t exactly ease my—“

“Can we just— can we not?”

And they didn’t. Harry closed his mouth— forced it closed, actually— having to clench his jaw to stop himself from voicing unwanted thoughts. Y/N looked away, pretending this conversation hadn’t happened at all. It was easier that way, to pretend he hadn’t conveyed such an open and honest display of care, to pretend that it hadn’t ripped her heart to shreds.

There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. It was the first time in a while that Y/N stayed (somewhat voluntarily) after her shift, and he couldn't risk pushing her away further.

For now, he had to be okay with this.

—

Y/N couldn‘t keep her eyes off of Harry, images of last night flashing in between conflicting thoughts.

She was in bed. She was clutching her blanket, a wet spot and the outline of her body marked by sweat on the sheets. He‘d looked so real fucking her, he‘d sounded so genuine whispering into her ear as he thrust up into her cunt.

He‘d called her a good girl, and she‘d run with it, afraid to look back.

But it hadn‘t been real, had it?

It‘d been a dream. But god, was it a good one.

Would he do it all the same? Would be hold her close, spreading his fingers over the expanse of her breast as he kissed her neck? Would he glide them up, and wrap them around her throat? Would he— fuck. No. She couldn’t.

But he would. And they‘d look so pretty resting there. And she‘d feel so pretty as he overwhelmed her with his presence, his chest pressing against hers. He‘d look so right as he danced along the fine line of praise and degradation— the line of rough and sweet, cold and warm. Because he would know. He would know exactly what she would need.

Wouldn‘t he?

He would. As she watched him move through the space of his living room, she knew he would. She‘d always known, really.

And Jamie wasn’t here anymore, he’d fled up the stairs. And Y/N really, really shouldn’t be here with him alone.

She was biting on her nails, eyes cast downwards in avoidance as Harry read his book on the other end of the couch. He had an arm stretched along the back of the couch and her legs were tucked to her chest as she scrolled on her phone, trying her hardest not to let her gaze run wild. It proved especially difficult when his arm fell mere inches from her legs. And when he touched her, warm thumb rubbing comforting circles into the cold of her skin, she couldn’t help biting her lip.

“You okay?”

“Hm? Yes. Why?”

A smile stretched his mouth wide, “just seem distracted, is all. Squirmy.”

“What? No, I’m fine.”

God, she was feeling small under his gaze.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she mumbled. Harry saw her eyes, though, tired dark circles resting where they don’t belong. He saw how they widened, how desperate they seemed for something she didn’t want to disclose to him and he wanted so badly to satisfy that need for her. “I should go home.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Would you like me to drive you?”

“Um, no. It’s okay. Thank you.”

But she failed to move.

Y/N had shut him out for so long that the effect he’d always had on her multiplied by ten. It was much much worse and the finger on her leg burned through her skin with ease.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Come here,” he demanded softly, watching as a war unfolded on her face. He could read her like a book, sensing the exact moment her heart won and her head gave up. He pulled her to him, fingers dancing up and down her shoulder. “You seem tired.”

Y/N cleared her throat, tips of fingers holding onto the edge of safety and threatening to let her cascade into the depths of danger. “I had three classes in the morning and I’ve been writing this paper, so—“ she allowed him control as he made her face the other way, legs outstretched, her back just inches from his chest and his hands massaging her tense shoulders. Her eyes closed in pleasure at the sensation. “And last night, I—“

“Last night you what?”

“I had… I had this dream and—“

She didn’t want to finish and he didn’t need her to.

“Is this okay?”

His voice felt soft and comfortable against her neck. “Yes, thank you. You’re good at that.”

He hummed.

“I really should go home though,” she mumbled, getting quieter with each word. She knew she wouldn’t dare push him away now, but she supposed it was more about convincing herself that she’d tried. “Cause I have classes early in the morning.”

“It’s only seven.”

“Yeah.”

Harry snickered quietly, her awful try at resistance not surprising him in the least. He had never seen her quite like this though, weak and smitten in his arms, on the verge of purring like a cat. He definitely couldn’t complain when she inched closer and dropped her head so it could rest comfortably on his shoulder.

“Can you do my arms?”

“Of course, baby.”

She could’ve melted. In fact, she probably had without noticing.

And when she felt his lips pressing to her skin… well, then it was game over.

“Is this okay?”

She nodded promptly, heart racing.

Y/N was tired of rejecting this feeling, tired of pretending as though she didn’t want Harry’s affection. Because truly, it was all she wanted, all she’d longed for.

A love like his would feel so great.

“You look really beautiful, you know that?”

“Thank you,” she squeaked, sensing Harry’s chuckle rolling against her back at the response.

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

“Me neither.”

“You’re the one who keeps running.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

Y/N took her time answering, grateful when Harry didn’t rush her. He would sit here waiting for an hour if he needed to, she was confident in that. There was no hurry, just soft hands on scalps and warm kisses on necks— Y/N hadn’t experienced such an overwhelming feeling of comfort in the arms of a man.

“I’m scared to stay.”

He sounded unfazed, giving her a surge of confidence when he asked, “why?”

“Because we’re such different people. You’re a dad, a very accomplished ceo. I’m a student, so much younger—“

“Don’t make me out to be so old, love.”

Her eyes rolled. “A little younger than you. And last week when I saw Stacie, I don’t know… it did something with my brain, I guess. You seemed so right together, you know? I didn’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything, don’t think I could bear that.”

“Look at me,” he muttered, tilting her head so that he could pin her down with a stern stare, “I couldn’t regret you, sweetheart. I regret much in life, but I wouldn’t regret you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Eh, I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

“Harry,” she warned, “I’m not the most lovable person once you get to know me.”

“I doubt that,” he retorted.

“Past experiences have proven as much.”

He gave gentle strokes to her cheek, a glaze he didn‘t expect overcoming her eyes, pulling him in, “so let me show you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, his nose mere inches away from hers. “Show me what?”

“How easy it is to love you.”

Time stood still, but it couldn’t not have with a statement of that kind. It seemed so easy for him to brush off concerns as something undeserving of thought, to create an allusion of simplicity where it didn‘t belong. Those words meant everything to her.

“You must know how wonderful that sounds coming from your mouth.”

Harry breathed a chuckle, nose nudging against hers softly. When he asked for permission, Y/N couldn’t deny him of another kiss.

And if it could’ve gotten any better than their first kiss, then it definitely had. There was a newfound sense of freedom and security with this kiss, unspoken thoughts reduced to small details rather than what had been when they’d spent time together last.

When they parted, nothing needed to be said. They already knew it all.

—

A month later.

“Y/N, will you hand me another bowl for the soup, please?”

As Y/N fulfilled Harry’s plea, she couldn’t help but let her giddiness dictate her movements. Things were fresh, things were good— but they were also scary. He was scary. Anxious butterflies spread in her lower tummy at the mention of his name and infested it with the low sound of his voice.

She waited by his side as he tidied up, ready to be of assistance. It was pathetic, really, how awfully smitten she’d become for him.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

She hummed in reply, scared that if she were to speak all that would come out was a squeak. Harry chuckled, smirk molding into his cheekbones as he grasped Y/N by the waist and pushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. His hand slid lower, giving her a squeeze.

“Are you nervous?”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll be great, I promise. And whatever he says, we’ll work it out.”

“Okay,” a surge of confidence rode her to sunny dry shores, shoulders sacking in comfort, “yeah, okay. I trust you.”

“You ready then?”

“Yes.”

Things proceeded as they always had; Y/N and Jamie shared funny anecdotes of their day as Harry mostly listened, admiring the two of them with love filling his eyes. It wasn’t until desert had come that the setting changed, unbeknownst to Jamie, and Harry took the lead.

“Jamie, we want to talk to you about something.”

Jamie stared between the two of them, waiting.

“Do you remember when you came home from school and told me about Katie and Josh? That they’re boyfriend girlfriend?”

“Yes, they still are.”

Harry chuckled, “and do you remember what I said when you asked if I had a girlfriend?”

“You said that you don’t.”

“I did. And while that may have been true for that moment, things have changed.”

Her heart melted and sank all the same when his little green eyes lit up, “do you have a girlfriend now?”

“I do,” Harry laughed, “you know her.”

“Who?”

Harry smirked, motioning to Y/N with a nod of his head to draw Jamie’s attention away. Jamie’s gaze landed on Y/N and in the matter of a second it filled with excitement. His mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Are you okay with that?” She asked, timid at first but becoming more confident when a genuine smile imprinted small dimples in his cheeks, a feature he’d been lucky enough to receive from his father.

He nodded, full of movement, and hummed in confirmation.

When Y/N and Harry had put Jamie into bed later that night, and had vacated to the kitchen to enjoy a glass of wine together, things finally fell into place. The thought of happiness within a relationship was no longer a distant one— no, it had become a reality. Harry had kept up with his promise, he had shown her easy, he’d shown her effortless, and while there was no doubt in her mind that hard times were still to come, she was confident that no matter the circumstance, her gratitude for his open portrayal of love could never be put into question.

“I love you,” she shared, eyes glassy, head tilted. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know. I think I’ve loved you for quite some time, I just didn’t want to realize it.”

The silence was short lived.

He placed his glass back down on the table and smiled, though to her it almost looked awkward. “Wow.”

“I know, you don’t have to… cause I know it’s a big deal, so you don’t have to say anything.”

“I do too,” he then offered, hand traveling to rest on her knee. “I love you.”

“Really?”

“I do.”

This stumped her.

And now it was her turn: “wow.”

Harry’s laughter spread everywhere on Y/N’s skin, engraving itself into her soul and staying there to be kept and remembered forever.

“Good. Now that that’s cleared…”

She couldn’t deny him of a passionate make-out session, hands on thighs and lips everywhere they fit, everywhere they felt right. A moan slipped from her mouth, his smirk molded into her hot skin.

“Move in with me,” he muttered, dirty against her mouth, “we’re finding a new nanny for Jamie and you don’t have a new job planned yet. Just focus on university, move in with me, with us. Let me take care of you.“

“Harry—“ his mouth collided against her neck, her eyes closed shut, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“We’ve only been together—“

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve fought for a long time to have you. I believe in us, I trust this.”

“I…“ Y/N felt torn— on one hand, she really wanted to move in with him. On the other, was that really wise? To move in with a man after a month of dating him? Albeit this was Harry, and she trusted him too. Fully. It was herself she didn’t trust. “Are you sure?”

And when she looked into his eyes, there was no not one ounce of doubt in them. They welcomed her.

“Jamie would love it just as much as me.”

“Would he?”

“Are you kidding me? He loves you so much.”

“I love him too,” she played with a strand of his hair.

“Then move in with us.”

A smile began to pull at her lips. “But I pay for groceries.”

“No,” he mumbled, “you’re too broke for me to let you do that.”

“Harry!”

“It’s true!” He laughed, massaging her thigh. “Baby, I don’t expect you to pay for anything living here. I’m more than capable—“

“I know you’re capable, but I just… I was taught not to burden other people.”

“You’re not burdening me,” he insisted, finger sliding under her chin, “it’s okay to let other people do things for you. It’s okay for others to show their love.”

“I know that.”

“So please don’t worry about it. Focus on your studies and make me proud in that way.”

“I need to make money somehow.”

“No you don’t. I’ll support you.”

“No,” she breathed right away, “I won’t depend on you for money. You’re not my… my sugar daddy.”

“Why not?” He grinned, “you call me daddy either way—“

Y/N’s eyes rolled, “shut up.”

“Told you not to roll your eyes at me.”

“Sorry.”

Harry hummed, “try it for a month. If you want to move in after, you can. If you don’t, I’ll help you find a new place. Or I’ll pay your rent while you’re here so you don’t lose out on money.”

Comfortable silence dictated the next few seconds as Y/N thought about her boyfriend’s offer, and then: “fine. We’ll try it for a month.”

Harry’s smile widened, “yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You won’t regret it."

He'd been right.

The end! Would love to hear your feedback :) but also like… don’t be too harsh cause I can’t handle it

tags:

@tpwk-mia @gem1712 @behindmygreyeyes, @sinarainbows @infixinfinity @adkmermaid2399 @daphnesutton @imaginexxharry @bry211 @haliastyles @watarmelon212 @impossibleme @cali-888 @dreamybabbyy @evie-119 @cumuluscranium @c-a-b3002 @buckybarnessimpp @freckles-things @harryedwardstylesluva24 @ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen @angelbunny222 @ivegotthecinema @harryscowgirl @vikiii07

I hope I didn’t forget anyone!

#harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #harry styles materlist #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles x nanny #harry styles ceo #harry styles fanfic rec

165 notes · View notes

fuckmyskywalker · 2 days

Text

𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐧!𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈: 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬.

Summary: A week of chaos. From the end to the very beginning. You find yourself in the darkness, remembering how the light touched your skin first. When you fly too close to the sun...

CW: 18+. dead dove do not eat, non-con, gun play, knife play, knife riding, death threats, dirty talk, dark content. | word count: 3.3k

a/n: Hope you enjoy it! DNI if you don't like the topics listed and DNI if you are a minor. Happy riding!

Hitman!Anakin series.

"𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘺."

Sunday. 16th.

Comically, he could argue with any soul that crossed the empty streets that life doesn’t have a price. He could laugh at the soft-spoken, naive answer of self-value, laced with the dumb kindness of human nature. Humans are kind by nature, or that’s what idealists say; what— a sane person, he thinks— would say is that humans are selfish by nature, the realistic approach.

Since the start of times, the number two has been sacred. There are two worlds to join in the afterlife: Heaven and hell. Two deities to recognize: God and the Devil. Two spectrums: Good and bad. Two cycles: Day and night… and two options: To kill, or get killed.

It could also be described as a constant phrase he learned while growing up: “The strong one will eat the weak one”, eight words haunting him like the plague, following him and patting his shoulder at every failure, and congratulating him at every success. Strength equals power, money equals power, intelligence equals power… but can a man have it all without losing his mind? Or perhaps he is just getting philosophical when he shouldn’t. Unlocking the windows with ease as his mind races with the never-ending turmoil of an unfair life, edging him to do unfair jobs, and win dirty money.

Although Anakin Skywalker has learned that some hot dish soap helps clean the blood stains over dollar signs.

Twisting the knife— an anxious habit— Anakin stands beside your bed, watching your immobile boy. There’s a soft smile plastered on your face, you must be having a nice dream… too bad it won’t last long. Leaning down, the tip of the knife dances over your neck, careful— careful. Not yet. Those aren’t his instructions. Although his boss never specified the in-betweens.

His lips ghost over the shell of your ear, raising goosebumps in your slumber. Your skin is aware of the intruder, the instincts kicking in. “Hey,” His voice is barely audible, but his warm breath sends a jolt of adrenaline like a lethal injection directly into your veins. “Wake up.”

Your eyes shoot open, body jolting forward only to be pushed back by the knife against your throat and his gloved hand over your face. There’s no need to use brutal force, it’s easy to fuel your fear; blue eyes staring into yours through the holes of the black ski mask. He can tell you are shaking— in fact, he can see it.

“Don’t move, don��t try to scream. If you do, I’ll slice your throat from ear to ear. Smiley face, that’s why I like to call that,” He chuckles when he sees you shivering. Oh, to be the strong one grants him with a power that makes him feel alive. Who cares about repercussions when simple acts and sighs like your tears make him feel immortal? “Do I make myself clear?”

You nod weakly. Every fiber of your being is yelling at you to run, to push him and throw him everything within your reach but you can’t move. Your body is paralyzed and for the first time in your privileged life, you realize something frightening. When he pulls back and lets go of you, the loud exhale that escapes your lungs pleasures him even further. Good. Everything is going according to plan.

It doesn’t matter how much money you have. You can die just like anyone else.

“See, I can imagine you already know why I am here,” Anakin continues, chuckling when you shake your head. “No? Uh, I thought you’d be smarter. Well, I guess money can’t buy intelligence.”

Your eyes flicker to his wrist, watching him twist the knife. At least he isn’t all over you. How can a human be so calm while toying with another’s future? As if it wasn’t a delicate situation, as if money was everything in the world— pathetic.

Stuttering, you run toward the only option your brain knows. “I’ll d–double the price. I’ll triple it,” Your legs move, hanging them on the edge of your tall bed. Anakin arches an eyebrow, he could’ve killed you for moving. Yet, he is somewhat interested in your offer. “I can pay much more than whoever hired you.”

“Oh, really?” Anakin laughs. It’s a cold, bitter laugh. There is no humor in it. Only cruelty. “And what makes you think money was the only thing I got paid with?”

“Who hired you?”

He laughs again. It has been seconds since you heard him laugh for the first time and you loathe the sound already. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out, darling. Or maybe I’m lying. Maybe it’s just like the movies and I get a mystery envelope with money and your name. Would that make you feel better?”

He is definitely mocking you, which normally would raise your anger and bring out the worst in you— right now it seems like a bad choice. Anakin can’t blame you for questioning, every victim does, sometimes he grants them their wish— when they aren’t that important— sometimes he just does the job, hoping they die with their doubts as their last thought. Your life's on the line, it must be the first time someone has pierced your little bubble… so yeah, he can’t blame you.

“Please don’t kill me, I’ll… I’ll do anything.”

There it is. Classic. His favorite words. Anything means anything. Everything is fair in love and war— everything is fair at gunpoint. “Anything?’ He repeats. “It’s not like I haven’t heard that one before.” His sarcastic tone flies over your head. You cannot pay attention to anything else besides the ringing in your eardrums and the palpitations of your heart.

Anakin finds great joy in fueling the terror in your soul. It is something he wasn’t exactly born with— or at least, during his loneliest nights, buried in alcohol and money, surrounded by his guns and his ghosts. He isn’t afraid of them, they can’t hurt him.

“Anything,” You confirm, lip wobbling and tears streaming down your cheeks. His task was awfully simple, yet, there is something he must do first now that he sees you more clearly. Anakin doesn't have the pleasure to witness such a pretty downfall often.

In a swift move, Anakin lifts the knife over his head, smirking wider when you raise your hands in a pitiful attempt at self-defense. Expectant, you sob one last time before the pain comes, before the burning sensation of piercing skin and crimson blood.

Which never arrives.

The sharp blade pierces through the sheets and the mattress. Ripping the stitches and creating the most awful sound you have ever heard in your life. That could’ve been your face. Did he miss his shot? Is his aim that bad? Your vision is blurry due to the thick coat of tears, crystal clear and salty that trickle down like tiny diamonds.

“Money is not enough this time, sweetheart,” He coos at you, cupping your cheek and brushing your tears in a fake act of kindness. His pursed lips make your stomach twist. You never thought there’d be fates worse than death… but here you are. “I won’t kill you—” His words make your shoulder fall for a second as a smile dances on your chapped lips like the weak swing of a butterfly’s wings. “Yet.”

“What do you want from me?” You sob, placing your hands on your lap, not sure what to do with them. You are in no position to fight. You are under the mercy of a clear psychopath. Someone without morals, without ethics and values— under the claws of a monster.

The worst part? You don’t even know who is pulling the strings tied over the monster’s claws.

“Don’t be sad, sweetheart. I’m sure you will find it amusing— and if you don’t I don’t care,” If you weren’t begging for your life, his voice could’ve been attractive. Even his eyes. His fucking eyes that seem to pierce your soul. “You see that handle?” He points at the knife with his chin. “I want you to lift your cute nightgown and ride it. You can close your eyes and imagine a cock, I’m sure you’ve done it before from what I’ve heard about you. If I like the show, I’ll let you ride my cock— and if I don’t like it. I’ll kill you.”

“You cannot possibly ask me to—”

A small squeal escapes your lips when the muzzle of a gun comes in contact with your temple. The steel is frigid against your burning skin. There are no words left in your throat, if you weren’t terrified you would’ve thrown up.

“You don’t like to think, you don’t like to listen— I’m starting to believe you are actually stupid, princess. You either fuck that knife or die.” Your whimper. Irritating. Infuriating. Fucking lovely.

Lifting your hips from the bed, you kneel with the little strength you have left. Anakin never removes the gun from your temple, in reality, he presses it further, watching your skin dent slightly. Lifting your sheer nightgown, you clumsily hook your finger at the waistband of your panties, tugging them down with embarrassment.

“Please don’t make me do this,” You beg, losing balance momentarily as your panties hang from your ankle.

There is a storm echoing in his laugh. Like pouring rain falling over your heart before it even reaches your ears. “If you don’t do it, I’ll force you. I will enjoy it more… and then you’ll die.”

The flat tip of the blade handle feels like steel against your folds. The touch is feathery light, perhaps unintentionally gentle. You are glad there is a thick leather wrapped around it— otherwise, it might hurt even more.

Rocking your hips slowly, you close your eyes focusing on anything else. You will not enjoy this. You refuse to give him pleasure. If this is the way you die— at least you want to imagine you put up some kind of fight. Despite your constant thoughts— foolishly thinking your mind is stronger than your body— when the handle comes in contact with your clit, your body instinctively jolts. You stop. You don’t talk.

You don’t want to die. You don’t want to die, and you don’t want to enjoy it.

“Spread your legs wider and don’t stop moving. Don’t make me go there and open them myself,” His voice is low. “Show me how much you don’t want this.” His voice mixed with the adrenaline brings you to a borderline dizzy state.

Resuming your movements, you bite the inner part of your cheek, flinching when his free hand cups your breast. “See? Is not that difficult to obey. I know you are so used to getting your way, little princess. But not this time. Not with me.”

His thumb traces your nipple poking through the silk. You hate yourself for this— even more when you find a steady rhythm. Your clit grinds against the flat top and throbs, quickly begging for more. Hooking the barrel underneath the thin straps of your nightgown, Anakin lets them fall, exposing your chest.

“Don’t come. If you do, your tiny brains will make a bloody mess over your lovely canopy and walls. Now fucking ride it.”

The leather glistens with your arousal. It’s pathetic, humiliating, miserable. When you position yourself above it, when you flex your knees to fit it— that’s when everything you are— breaks.

The handle stretches your walls in a way that couldn’t be more uncomfortable. Your arousal helps but only much. Unhurriedly, you begin to ride it just like he commanded you to, just like you have to. Your pussy clenches around it, you can’t even fool yourself and think it is a dick. Nothing could help you now. No one can save you now.

“Seems to be you can listen sometimes…” Anakin observes, removing the gun from your skull to press it against the valley of your breasts. “Don’t think I can’t see how wet you are. Are you that deranged you are enjoying this?”

Are you?

Is he?

You just have to do this. Right?

Too many questions, no answers.

“Faster.”

Increasing your pace, the tears make themselves known again. You are enjoying it. Your walls are dripping, your pussy is begging for more. The slick sticks to the leather like a second layer of shine, the sounds your body is making are against your will— but you can’t stop moving. Anakin breathes loudly, his own excitement evident. You cannot see the outline of his erection underneath his black cargo pants but he feels it, throbbing, leaking, eager to bury itself in you. Hear you sob and feel you clench after every cry.

“So fucking wet,” He mumbles, pressing his lips against your sweaty neck. The soft cotton of his ski mask brushes over your skin, bringing you a nasty comfort. “Remember, if you come… you die.”

The muzzle now dances over your nipple, distracting you from the burn in your lower stomach for a second— when his hand finds your clit. Circling it quickly, roughly, Anakin exhales again right in your ear.

“I can’t wait to fuck you. I hope you are ready to die while I bury my cock inside you.”

A loud moan, mixed with a throat-ripping wail falls down your lips, body writhing and hips trashing. The handle is as deep as it can go, and before your vision goes white you feel the gun poking underneath your chin. Your hands curl around the hem of the nightgown you are still lifting, almost piercing the expensive and delicate fabric. Your orgasm is strong, it clouds your senses and for a moment the euphoria makes you forget how you just marked your destiny. The handle is sticky just like your thighs. The world is spinning.

Your life is ruined.

Just as your vision goes white, it goes black.

Monday. 10th.

Politics are known to be comparable to walking on thin ice. One false step and you sink— all the way to the cold and lonely bottom. Made only for the ones who can twist and turn others under their will and for those who aren’t scared of the nerve-wracking possibility of being a hero or a villain.

When your father offers you the vacancy for Campaign Manager you don’t hesitate to take the opportunity. Daddy dearest always serves opportunities such as these on a silver platter. Why would you refuse? Sure, a week before the presidential elections might be signing a death sentence, but why would you care? Even if you fall, your safety net is insured, secured and endorsed.

“Are you sure you can do this alone?” Natasha Andrews, your father’s assistant lowers her clipboard, focusing her dirty blue eyes on you from beneath her thin-gramme glasses. “We have a week before the election, these last days are crucial.”

“I’ll be fine!” You answer confidently. To have such confidence and naivety that being young gives you. You just feel invincible. “I read some of John’s final projects. A few venues and bookings won’t scare me.”

“I don’t think you are seeing the big picture here,” Natasha calls your name patiently. Removing her glasses, folding them and placing them next to her clipboard, you can already imagine a boring lecture about responsibility. You’ll be fine! “Your father has an image to maintain, a reputation to hold and the statistics are growing in his favor. This last week is to secure the win. Your father chose you for a reason.” Another way to say ‘There are high expectations. You better fulfill them.’

Huffing, you take her words as a weak attempt at an insult. You understand the big picture. You’ve been surrounded by the big picture since you can remember. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Natasha runs a hand through her ginger locks, taking a deep breath. She’s too old to deal with all this. “Look. I know you are young and I’m sure you have wonderful ideas for the campaign, but our time is limited. We can only continue with the schedule and hope for the best. If your ideas can be incorporated into the events then you are more than welcome.”

Always used to getting your way, you find baffling how someone who doesn’t know can defy you— or in your eyes, Natasha is doubting your capacities. Standing up, you point at her. Your manicured nail, painted a crimson red holds an almost accusatory tone. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone— not even your father. There is no chance of failure, because when you are young… you are on top of the world.

“No, you look. I know you are worried but I can do this,” You reply, not bothering to hide the patronizing tone in your voice. “My father knows I’m more than capable. You may not know me but you will. If I want to change the date of a venue, or if I want to make a goddamned pool party we will. I know what’s best, I know what will work.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow at your words, her expression hardening slightly. “I never doubted your… abilities, Miss. We have a schedule we must follow. Nothing personal. It is your first day in your position. Can you even name three key supporters of Jonathan's campaign? Have you planned a meeting with potential donors for when your father wins the elections?”

The assistant has a point, but you won’t give up. You will never lose a fight.

“Easy, everything you say is too easy,” You narrow your eyes, placing both palms on the desk to hide how they shake from frustration. “If I say the word, my father will fire you. It doesn’t matter how long you have been working with him. I’m his daughter.”

That’s your wild card.

And as usual, it works.

Sighing through gritted teeth, Natasha rubs her temple. How can an educated girl like yourself be such a despicable person? “Go on.”

The smile that brightens your face beams like flames. Threatening to consume everything on its way. Everything is easy when you have the influence. You were born with it, what’s wrong with using it? “Alright… key supporters….”

The redhead scribbles down as you talk, from all you know she is playing hangman with your face on the stick figure, not that you care, of course. Your mood heightens as she just listens and comments on trivial things such as locations and schemes. You knew it would be easy. You just need people that follow you.

“We can do the last meet-and-greet at Cafe Serenity. My father invested in the project and the owner owes him that. I’m sure if we present the petition he will accept,” You talk, tangling the wires inside your head. “I can schedule an interview with Channel 7, Global News Network, and Insider Globe, they do most of the coverage during the elections and my father knows the actionist in GNN…”

“The meet-and-greet sounds good. It’s the perfect strategy to calculate the supporters Jonathan has. Plus the media coverage will be wonderful,” Her jaw clenches as she talks, but you are too busy staring at your nails to see the daggers coming from her eyes. “You’ve got a good grasp on this.”

“I know,” You smile, ignoring the fake smile.

Suddenly, your phone rings. It’s an unknown number. A frown etches on your face as you pick it up. Excusing yourself from the table, Natasha nods, her blue orbs gluing to your back; if looks could kill…

Closing the door of the meeting room behind you, you bring the phone closer to your ear. “Hello? Who is this?”

Silence.

“Hello?”

A feminine voice breaks the silence. The unknown woman calls your name and your heart stops momentarily. It sounds vaguely familiar, and it carries a heavy accent that you can’t pinpoint from where.

“Lisseth? Is that you?” Your chirp echoes through the empty hallway. “I can’t believe you are back!”

Thank you for reading! ✩

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#ꨄ︎𓆪 anya's series!#hitman!anakin #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin smut #anakin skywalker fan fiction #anakin skywalker au #anakin x reader #anakin x you #anakin x reader smut #anakin star wars

162 notes · View notes

all-purpose-dish-soap · 2 days

Text

550 words / 25 / more ghost + gaz with free use medic reader

...

"Come here, medic."

"I told you, I'm fine."

"Ain't a request." Ghost takes you firmly by the back of the neck before you can flee. He squeezes tight enough to make it clear he's not asking.

You feel his and Gaz’s eyes on you--on the bleeding laceration sliced through the outer cartilage of your ear and on the bruise forming on your cheekbone. You got tangled up briefly with an enemy tango and almost became a hostage. Or a statistic. But you're fine now.

"You're making a big deal over nothing,” you tell them.

Ghost pulls you forward and angles your face this way and that, trying to get a better look at you.

Gaz crosses his arms and stares you down. "Fine is when you burn yourself on a shell casing. You're not fine." He's barely holding back the edge in his voice. He can't pull rank on you--none of them can, technically--and he's supposed to be polite and respectful. But seeing that happen to you, and the adrenaline running through him, is making him thoughtless.

"He only grabbed me. Didn't hurt me."

Ghost hisses at you, his voice just as rough as the squeeze he has on the back of your neck. "What happened isn't important. What's important is that he thought he could touch you." His grip tightens. "You're in our squad. You're under our watch. No one messes with you."

Your gut twists. That's not fair--acting protective. It's part of their job to keep you safe, but they don't have to talk like this. You glance at Gaz for help, but the look on his face tells you he doesn’t disagree with Ghost. You swallow the protests on the tip of your tongue and close your eyes, silently letting them examine you.

Ghost finds another few nicks and fresh bruises. You’re a medic—you’re not as armored as they are because it’s a goddamn war crime to kill medical personnel. "Jesus,” he mutters. “Bastard snuck up on us.”

"Thank you," you say quietly.

"For what?" Ghost snaps back. As usual, he's not expecting gratitude from you. You're supposed to take the insults, the berating, the harshness. And the protection, because you belong to them. At least, that's how they see it.

Gaz speaks up. "No one treats you like that again, alright?"

"It's not like I asked him if he needed a hostage."

"Doesn't matter," Gaz retorts. "If someone puts a finger on you like that again--"

Soap ducks back into the room, his rifle’s muzzle on his shoulder.

"Take care of it?" Ghost asks.

"Aye," Soap says. "Bastard won't be layin' his hands on anyone anymore. Not enough fingers left, for starters." He turns to you with a look of sympathy, but you recognize the wild edge of adrenaline still present. "You alright, hen?"

"I'm fine." You use the opportunity to worm yourself out of Ghost's grasp. "We going?"

"Affirmative," Gaz says. “We should move.”

Ghost turns away, forcing his attention back on the mission even though he carries himself with cold anger. Soap looks you up and down once more, his eyes lingering on your cheekbone a little longer this time. He seems about to say something, but thinks better of it. His blue eyes soften just a bit before he turns to follow Gaz and Ghost.

...

more Gaz / more Ghost / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

336 notes · View notes

murdrdocs · 21 hours

Text

masturbation mention; handjobs; college!art; fem!reader; no spoilers MDNI 18+ w/ ART DOANLDSON

when art donaldson gets a boner, it's nearly impossible for it to go down. he's tried everything in the book. well, everything in patrick's book—taking a cold shower, thinking about his grandmother in her underwear, changing his position. but nothing has ever worked, leaving him to excuse himself at inconvenient times so he could fist his cock until he was satisfied.

but being here with you, art can't do that. he's already flaked on your study sessions one too many times and he really, really doesn't want to have to flake again. for a reason as trivial and embarrassing as a boner at that.

he really didn't mean for it to happen. but he just happens to be in your space, surrounded by your trinkets, watching you move around in a pair of shorts that reminded him of the pair tashi wore that night. which got him thinking about the situation he was in just a year ago. which made him imagine you and him in a situation similar, perhaps even with tashi and patrick there.

you're speaking to him. your hands are moving in patterns that art should recognize, and you're lips are moving, too. but he's distant. distracted.

he blinks twice, shaking the overgrown blond curls out of his face as he fixes his gaze on you again.

"'m ... i'm sorry. what were you saying?"

you drop your hands and place them in your lap. you look disappointed.

"dude. i'm really trying to pass this midterm."

art drops his head. he initially does it in an act of shame, but then he notices your hands resting along your glistening skin and he's suddenly made aware of his boner once more. he groans, resting his elbows into the decorative pillow covering his lap as he covers his face with his hands.

"i know, i know. i'm really, really sorry." he sniffs, straightens up, and focuses all of his attention on studying with you. but now it's you who's distracted.

you tilt your head and eye him up and down. art, worrying that you might have fucking x-ray vision or something, adjusts the way he’s sitting. he thinks he's being casual, but then he clears his throat and looks off to the side and he can hear your small 'oh'.

“haven’t tried thinking about your grandmother?”

art, embarrassed at having been caught, says nothing.

“want me to help you out?” you offer. you say it like a joke, so art laughs. but then you don’t laugh, too.

you’re staring at him, a small smile on your lips as you push your weight into your hands behind you. the twin XL bed can only allow so much room, so even as you’re leaning away from him art feels like you’re right there.

“you’re joking, right?”

you take a second, and then you shake your head.

and that’s how art ends up digging his hands into your sheets as he watches your hand glide over his cock through heavy eyes.

you’re sitting with your feet tucked under your butt, one hand scratching through art’s hair and the other working on his cock.

art’s free hand is pressing into the line of skin between your top and shorts.

you’re doing so well, making him feel so good, but you still ask for confirmation through a low voice.

“does this feel good?”

and your face is so much closer to him than he thought. your voice is right next to his ear. it travels down through him, making even more blood rush to his cock if even possible.

art nods, tearing his eyes away from your hand wrapped around his cock to look at you. but you’re already looking at him, your hand pulling on a loose curl of his while you smile. art smiles back, just before you pull him closer and press your lips to his.

kissing distracts you, so art takes over. he shifts his cock up into your hand, doing the work for you. he circles his hand around your back and pulls you closer until he can feel your breasts pushing against his arm through your shirt. whatever bra you’re wearing must be thin, because art can feel your nipples poking him.

he means to warn you. he wants to let you know before it happens. but you regain some of your focus and your thumb presses into his tip, and he’s thinking about how you told him he had a pretty dick, and he can feel your tits and suddenly his hips are lifting and cock is twitching and he’s cumming all over your hand and his thighs.

#art donaldson x reader #celeste writes misc #art donaldson x you #art donaldson smut #challengers smut

329 notes · View notes

laughhardrunfastbekindsblog · 2 days

Text

It took 2 people to fully convince Crosshair to do a 180 on the Empire - but neither of those people were Bad Batch members.

They couldn't be. What would a squad of defective clones who had been disobeying orders since day 1 know about loyalty to an institution determined to establish order for the good of the galaxy? What would they know about finding purpose in being "good soldiers"?

Now, I DO think the seeds of Crosshair's eventual defection were planted by his brothers. Hunter pointing out that "Blind allegiance makes you a pawn" and then telling Crosshair "All you'll ever be to them is a number" are statements that are proven later to be true. But it takes Cody and Mayday to drive the lessons home.

Cody and Mayday share several characteristics that place them in unique positions to influence Crosshair:

Both are regs who accepted and befriended Crosshair - Cody says he specifically asked for Crosshair for the mission, and Mayday is upfront and friendly to Crosshair right from the start. (Contrast this to the other regs getting up to move tables when Crosshair sits to eat, or the other clone troopers who walk past Crosshair to get onto the shuttle without even sparing him a glance.)

Both are commanders. (I believe Crosshair ultimately respects authority for the most part: even when he was arguing with and challenging Hunter in "Aftermath," he still deferred to Hunter's orders until his inhibitor chip was intensified and he was then promoted to commander.)

Both are loyal soldiers who have served the Empire well - again, these regs are still commanders even under the new government. And we all know how important loyalty to the Empire is to Crosshair at this point.

Both save Crosshair's life during their missions.

In short, both are regs, but they are still soldiers Crosshair can quickly identify with and trust.

I think it's key that Crosshair encountered Cody before Mayday, though. And despite their similarities, both soldiers drive home different points.

CODY

Cody is one of the few regs we know Crosshair already respected - and still respects, given that Crosshair almost smiles when he recognizes him.

(Some proof in case it isn't apparent: Crosshair goes from frowny face...

...to relaxed almost-happy-if-you-squint-just-right face)

Anyway, while Cody does drop some hints early on that he has doubts about the Empire, he is willing to carry out the mission to rescue "Governor" Grotton, showing he will follow orders to a certain extent. However, he shows more restraint than Crosshair might have: he doesn't attack the civilians despite their obvious mistrust of the soldiers, he comes to an understanding with Tawni Ames, he's NOT willing to follow an order to execute her, and he is clearly dismayed and disappointed by her death.

And so, at the end of a "successful" mission, Cody more plainly reveals the depth of his dissatisfaction with following orders against one's own moral scruples:

Hunter had said "Blind allegiance makes you a pawn." And Cody, unwilling to blindly and unquestioningly be a pawn - or act like a battle droid - any longer, goes AWOL.

But that lesson alone isn't enough to make Crosshair turn on the Empire. Instead, he needs Mayday to give him the final push.

MAYDAY

First, Mayday indicates how appalled he is by the idea of anyone leaving their own behind - which we know is a sore spot for Crosshair. But most importantly, Mayday has demonstrated since he was first introduced that he strongly believes in soldiers being loyal to and looking out for each other (which is far different than just being loyal to the Empire).

Second, Mayday unknowingly challenges Crosshair's belief that serving the Empire provides meaningful purpose. (Remember that one of Crosshair's main arguments to his brothers about joining the Empire was so they could "find purpose again.")

Then, he unwittingly goes for the jugular and rips apart the motto Crosshair had adopted.

And then, in case Crosshair has any lingering doubts about the answer to Mayday's rhetorical question, Nolan decidedly answers the question for him.

Hunter had said "All you'll ever be to them is a number," and he is proven right in the most heartbreaking way.

Crosshair had accused his brothers of not being loyal to him; unfortunately, now he sees what true disloyalty looks like. And for Crosshair - severe and unyielding - realizing that he has misplaced his loyalty by giving it to an entity that mocks him and casts him AND those he cares about aside for doing so... this is the final straw.

Thankfully, Crosshair has now rediscovered the people who are worthy of his loyalty.

#the bad batch #tbb #clone force 99 #star wars #star wars the bad batch #tbb crosshair #commander mayday #tbb mayday #commander cody #tbb cody #lessons learned the hard way #tbb analysis #and now i'm crying #shouldn't have rewatched these episodes #but they are SOOO GOOD #save crosshair #amazing character development in only two episodes #this is longer than i intended it to be - again #but this is what happens when i have to wait four more days for the finale

112 notes · View notes

coco-loco-nut · 2 days

Text

imgonnagetyouback

pairing: logan sargeant x reader

summary: you aren’t sure if you want to destroy his car or take him home with you

a/n: most of this was written late at night and not proofread. love y’all, thanks for answering the poll, that was fun. might do it again

requests open masterlist

————————

You enter your usual Miami haunt with your friends, one mission in mind. Your lilac skirt fits your like a glove, showing off your legs and curves. It was Logan’s favorite.

Logan was an asshole, he knows it, ever since he broke up with you last year. He’s been keeping tabs on your socials recently, knowing this is where you go when you are in Miami instead of Fort Lauderdale. He brought Oscar with him as moral support, they stand at the bar, laughing over some bubbly drink.

Your eyes scan the club as you walk in, slightly pausing when you recognize the blonde guy staring at you from the bar, you can tell when someone wants you. Instead, you train your eyes on some guy on the dance floor, sending him a flirty smile and joining him for a dance or two, giving Logan a chance to pull himself together before going in. He can’t help but tell Oscar how good you look. The trap has been sprung. You are going to get Logan back. Whether romantically or by revenge, you weren’t sure.

You walk over to the bar, pretending to have not noticed the pair, standing one seat over.

“Tequila shot,” you order and Logan takes his chance.

“Add two more and put it on my tab,” Logan tells the bartender, Oscar gags a little, but doesn’t protest. You give Logan a look he can’t decipher, but you slide into the seat beside them.

“Thanks,” you say, the awkward small talk between the three of you filling the time as you wait for the shots. Logan salts his wrist for his shot. You grab his wrist, lick it, and throw back the shot. Oscar barely suppresses his laugh as you turn to go back to the dance floor. Logan quickly throws back the shot and follows you. Your friends find Oscar and chat, the group curious to see how this pans out.

“Y/n,” Logan catches your wrist, you act like you don’t care about him, but you can see the whispers in his eyes searching if you still love him. It breaks your cold heart a little. “Don’t be mad, please. I never wanted to hurt you,” he says, trying to win you back.

“I’m like your fucking car. You steered me into the fucking ditch then ran off,” you say after a second, turning back towards the crowd, he just pulls you closer.

“I’m so sorry. I hate myself for that,” he admits, you ignore him, dancing to the beat, not pushing him away but not encouraging him to dance with you either. Just when things are feeling too comfortable, you walk away in the direction of the bathrooms. Logan follows.

“Will you give me a chance?” he asks, the music quiet in the background. ‘God, he’s so fucking fine’ you think to yourself. The lighting doing everything right, the shadows enhance his jawline but his eyes shine bright.

“I haven’t decided yet,” your eyes revealing more than you intended. He can see the hurt and love in them. You aren’t sure if you want to curse him out or bring him home.

“What can I do,” he grabs your hands.

“I don’t know. I’m between being your wife or smashing your car,” you say, steeling yourself. Logan is thinking twice, unsure if he was ever yours or was never not yours. Logan pulls your closer, kissing you. Your body automatically responds to him. letting him pull you close.

“You’re mine,” you whisper, the temptation to both flip him off or pull him into the bathroom strong. He follows you back to the dance floor, you can feel the tension and chemistry coming back, electricity humming in the way you dance together. It’s like pressing a reset button, becoming something new. Oscar and your friends left a while ago, knowing the two of you were determined to leave here together from the start.

You tell the cab the address of your Miami apartment. Every moment that passes sees the hurt and past fade to gray.

“Pick your poison, I’m poison either way,” you had told Logan earlier, he chose you anyway, the both of you wanting to play with the broken pieces of your former relationship.

He pushes you against the wall, kissing you passionately.

“Before we do this, where do you stand? If we go ahead, there is no turning back,” Logan stops, needing to know that you belong to him again, you already know he belongs to you.

“I hate you but I love you just the same. I’m gonna get you back,” you tug on his shirt, pulling him back to you, a feral need for him growing.

It wasn’t a surprise to Logan’s friends when you showed up to the Miami paddock later that week.

What was a surprise was the ring around your finger, one that matches the one around Logan’s.

“What the hell?” Oscar asks, a smile on his face.

“I’m not going to let her go again,” Logan looks down at you with a smile.

“I chose to love him till the end, luckily for Sauber,” you joke, referencing the team who decided to take a chance on Logan and help him develop.

“I’m happy for you two,” Oscar says, happy to see his best friend happy. Everyone but your parents were happy for you, the parents were just mad you got married without them there.

“I am too, but I will take it out on his car if he hurts me again,” you tell Oscar, joking but not joking. Logan just holds you closer. You both told each other about your plans to get each back, it caused a lot of laughter.

“That’s my wife,” he grins proudly. Oscar shakes his head at his friends.

“You did what!” Alex runs over to the two of you. “Where was my invite? Oh, glad to have you back Y/n, Lily missed you,” Alex says, as the two of you just laugh.

instagram

y/nsargeant what if i told you i’m a mastermind, and now your mine ❤️

logansargeant it was all by design ❤️

oscarpiastri not letting the two of you go back to a club, Y/n will end up pregnant or something

y/friend1 you both took getting each other back a little too seriously. this is why i love you

user1 hold up, since when were mom and dad back together??

user2 AND MARRIED??

y/friend2 you really went to the club heartbroken and left ready to get married😭 ilysm

alexalbon they are so unserious 😭

sauberf1 when did this happen? LOGAN??? we’re not mad. pick up your phone

charlesleclerc ^^^

carlossainz55 ^^^

landonorris ^^^

georgerussell iconic

y/nsargeant thanks pookie 🫶

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #logan sargeant #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader

134 notes · View notes

steveharrington · 14 hours

Text

major hornets nest moment here but i must speak my truth. its so fascinating to me how will byers was clearly written with the driving motivation and intention of making him a beloved fan favorite character and instead he falls so flat that, if you asked the average casual viewer of the show who doesn't engage in the fandom like, say, your coworker, the odds of him even being in their top five of favorite characters is pretty low.

will's disappearance kicks off the plot, singlehandedly. the first episode is literally called the vanishing of will byers. his name is shouted so much in the first season that most people would recognize the reference if you used the right cadence and desperation that winona ryder does. after not being featured much in season one, you'd think season two would've just like launched will/noah schnapp into stardom with how much more screentime he's given and how dramatic his plot is that season. but instead the fan favorites of season 2 were by and large el, hopper, dustin, steve, max, even bob who's barely there. that's not to say that there AREN'T will fans out there (and online i understand there are like entire armies dedicated to him/byler, but i'm talking about the average opinion of viewers as a whole, not just in fandom spaces) but think about all the stranger things merch you see in stores, the halloween costumes, the characters that appear in promotional materials when the show has partnerships with brands....will is so rarely featured. idk if any of yall ever got the chance to visit the stranger things pop up shop in any of its various locations, but there was such little mention of will in the stores theming or merchandise that it was almost funny. actually it WAS funny, to me, someone who does not care for him

i think the flop can be attributed to many things. one, noah schnapp is just not a very good actor and he doesn't have the same appeal in his performances that millie, sadie, caleb, gaten, priah, or finn do (although finn i've noticed is also kinda falling out of favor from majority audiences). one could argue that noah schnapp intentionally isn't given much to do, which is true and i'll circle back to that, but the decline in his acting between seasons 2 and 3 is truly a sight to behold. when he's not like tied up and screaming, he reallllllly struggles on the smaller scale performances compared to the other cast members his age. he doesn't really have the charm that gaten does or the humor that priah does or the depth that caleb does. (i don’t feel bad about saying this, btw, given noah schnapp’s behavior)

back to the vanishing of will byer's screen time. my beloved prettymuchit's eric striffler commented on how diminished will and mike's roles in the story have become in s4. "noah schnapp is below the grips on the call sheet" is my fav line, but he also makes an observation on finn's role that i think is soooo accurate. when mike and will are kneeling down next to the pizza dough freezer and watching el just kinda twitch while she fights vecna in her mind, eric and his co-host miles say "this is so embarrassing! finn's like, 'oh so gaten's fighting the monster? and i'm kneeling next to a tub at a pizza place? i used to be this show" and i think the same exact sentiment can be superimposed onto will

but i think this happened naturally, as the nature of the show is to shift its focus from character to character. not to mention the duffer brothers' obsession with tweaking their story to give audiences what they want. i've always held the belief that there isn't one main character of stranger things, rather a rotating circle of characters depending on the season you're watching. season one is mike, season two is hopper, season three is el, season four is max imo. again that's a little subjective and arguments could be made to swap those a little, but overall i think those characters stories and point of views take center stage during each of their respective seasons. by season 3, the duffers wanted to kick things up to a larger scale. the UD is no longer targeting just will, it's targeting the entire town. this works because a THIRD season in a row where this one kid specifically gets possessed would just be bonkers, so they kinda had to let him take a backseat. i'm not sure why they didn't let will be more involved in the mystery-solving portion of season 3....to this day that decision baffles me, but what's done is done and the will that everyone watched in season 3 literally just kinda follows everyone around and gets a small little slice of a plotline about wanting things to go back to normal, but alas

it like totally worked, though. though there are MANY complaints commonly made about season 3, i've never heard anyone offline complain that there wasn't enough will byers. i think the group in s3 that had the most success like, commercially, would be scoops troop and then a bit farther back i think most audiences enjoyed hopper/joyce/murray's dynamic. i think if there had been a huge outcry in the minimizing of will's role, the duffers would've backpedaled immediately. they aim to please. they can't even commit to killing of a main character out of fear that audiences will lose interest if we permanently lose hopper or max, so they just do some creative writing that allows them to milk the emotional consequence of those characters deaths without actually writing them off. if audiences on a large scale demanded that will be center stage, he would be. but they dont!

final point: i think will gets fucked over by the duffers obsession with romance. in season one, two of will's strongest dynamics are with his mom and brother. which like, yeah. theyre his immediately family and he is 12. but in seasons 2 and 3, jonathan spent all his screen time with nancy and from 2-4, joyce has spent all her screen time either with hopper or in the pursuit of finding hopper. these characters are written together as a package deal, typically. it was refreshing and unexpected to see jonathan get a whole season with a friend of his very own and his siblings, but they barely took advantage of that. jonathan and will get ummmm one (1) scene to talk about their emotions in a fucking 20 hour season. it's hard for will to be a main character when he rarely gets to interact with the people that make up the other half of his main dynamics.

as for byler, im of the belief that it will not be endgame because i just don't think they're going to break up mike and el at this point. i could be completely wrong and stand corrected, but im like 90% sure lol. i do think that will's s4 storyline resonated with a lot of people. even eric striffler! i think the issue is that the vastttt majority of people who watch this show above the age of like 15 do not feel invested about the romantic relationships between any of the kids. because why would they!!! theyre literally in middle school for 3/4 of the show. you would be hard pressed to find a vocal will stan online who doesn't also dedicate 90% of their engagement with the show to byler. which makes sense, because most if not all of will's scenes revolve around mike to some degree. but according to neilsen, the majority of stranger things audience is consistently in the 18-49 age range season by season. its more likely for adult audiences to identify with adults (or characters who are narratively treated like adults, like steve and nancy) than with any of the kids. esp when the kid in question, despite being written as the focal point of the show, has less relevant plotlines, less interaction with other characters, and an actor who just doesn't deliver on charm the way his fellow younger costars do

#two ppl asked for it in the inbox so voila

53 notes · View notes

batmanisagatewaydrug · 1 day

Note

Hi so I’m 15 and in a relationship for the first time so I don’t have experience with any of this stuff. My partner and I have been doing sexual stuff for a few months now I just have some questions.

First, I was wondering how we can do sexual things in a way that doesn’t bother other people in the house. Like maybe that’s a dumb question and the answer is just be quiet but idk it’s hard bc my partner is very vocal. Also there’s very few opportunities to do stuff without anyone else home so that’s not rly an option.

Also my parents have been very weird about my relationship with my partner. Making lots of odd comments such as “i wonder if they’re having sex up there” (to my brother who is a *child*) and giving me lots of looks that just kind of make me feel really bad about my relationship. I know that sex is natural but they make me feel really bad about it and I could use some advice on what to do about that

Next, my partner and I are both interested in getting in to kink but I don’t really know how to go about it. I’ve never heard of people getting into that stuff as minors and we don’t want to do anything too crazy especially since we don’t really have access to any supplies.

You’ve definitely talked about this before but could you tell me what kind of protection is best and easiest to use and obtain for f/f sex. School didn’t teach me how to use anything other than a male condom.

Thank you so much. Sorry for asking so many questions

hi anon,

your first question is going to be pretty circumstantial; I don't know what the layout of your house is like or how realistic it is to wait for privacy. the ideal if of course to wait until everyone else is either asleep or out of the house, but I recognize that the former may be difficult if not impossible for someone your age and you've already said the latter is hard to come by. using other noises, like music or TV or white noise, can be helpful, although it's unlikely to prevent your parents from speculating.

to address your second problem most directly, I'm afraid there's no much that I personally can do to rectify that. it is unfortunately very normal for parents to have an anxious, awkward, and difficult time adjusting to their children becoming sexually curious. I think the most crucial thing to remember here is that this has nothing to do with what you're doing being gross or wrong, and most everything to do with how your parents were raised to think about sex. unless they have specific concerns they want to raise with you about sexual safety, their reactions are most likely coming from a place of discomfort that they don't know how to channel appropriately. that's not a shortcoming on your part, but on the people who failed to help them develop a better way of understanding their own feelings about sex - and, yes, on them for how they're handling those feelings now.

I'm unsure exactly what you're interested in exploring, since kink covers a very broad array of activities and "supplies" could mean almost anything, but I would definitely recommend an abundance of caution in your explorations. kink is great, but that doesn't mean it's easy for for everyone. there's a reason that you seldom hear of people your age getting into kink, which is that it generally requires a great deal of practice with navigating partnered intimacy and communication - something that few teenagers have had time to develop the skills for. kink is also something that many people find works best as a communal activity, by finding others to help introduce them around and sharing experience to help safely explore their fantasies; for obvious safety reasons, few kink spaces are looking to admit 15 year olds. by all means, do your research - Evie Lupine's youtube channel is a great place to start, with a backlog of hundreds of videos covering all kinds of kink-related topics - but be careful with how you act on it, and recognize that kink comes with more potential complications and risks than "vanilla" sex that cannot be taken lightly.

if both parties have vulvas and vaginas then you can use dental dams for protection during oral sex, latex or nitrile gloves or finger cots to cover hands/fingers, and external ("male," although there's nothing inherently gendered about them) condoms for any penetrative toys (or cut them down one side to flatten them out and make the aforementioned dental dams).

please don't apologize for asking questions! questions are how you learn and stay safe :)

#sex edventures 2024

53 notes · View notes

cheianimatez · 1 day

Text

Doubts (Gaming x GN!Reader) (SAGAU IMPOSTER AU)

(Might be a bit OOC, pls correct me 🥲)

"G-Gaming...?"

Gaming's body froze, you knew his name. He lowered his weapon, his doubts coming back to his mind. Ever since everyone was given an order to kill the "imposter" by their "Divine Creator", he thought "Why the heck would we hunt someone just because they have the same face as them, that's a bit cliche 🫤", but he can't defy his god, for he fears punishment.

But you, you knew his name, like you personally knew him, unlike the one on the throne.

"You're not going to kill me...?"

His thoughts got interrupted by your voice, sensing fear in it. He sighed.

"Honestly, despite everyone claims you impersonated Our Grace, you never did anything wrong at all. You also knew my name, unlike the one on the throne who didn't knew me at all, or maybe anyone else"

You looked at him, your fear dwindling down but still kept your guard.

"Yeah, probably that. In fact, I literally appeared here, then everyone started hunting me, like bro, do I look like I'm going to do some heinous crimes that they don't think their Grace or whatever the heck they call them would do?"

Gaming tried his best to hold his laugh. Somehow, even in tough times, you surprisingly have humor (even speaking his language /j). Maybe that kept you sane while you're being hunted down or something.

Then they heard voices. It's the Milileth. Gaming looked at the "imposter", suddenly feeling bad for them.

And that's when he decided to be against the order, deciding his own fate by himself

"Hey, what are you- UHH WHAT THE F--"

Gaming them immediately gave you a glare to shut you up.

"Oi, quiet! I'm going to help this time because who the frick would order people to kill someone just because they have the same face as them?!"

You looked at him in disbelief. He's helping you? But I guess you should be grateful this time, the last time someone helped you is Bennett, Fischl, Razor, and Mona helping you to escape Mondstadt, then you got killed by the Acting Grandmaster Jean, returned home to your world, then managed improved your life there until you fell asleep at the end of the day, only to find yourself you respawned in Liyue, and now the Milileth, the Qixing, heck even the Geo broke ahh grandpa Archon started chasing you! And I guess I could say it's enough for you to slowly develop distrust against anyone. Until this guy started to help you.

"I'm going to take you to my house. My father will probably understand my doubts of this... order..."

You stayed silent as Gaming carried you on the back away from the hunters, safely hidden from them.

"You know, I really wanted to go home. I had known these types of events that would happen in this world when I came, but I half didn't expect this sht would happen to me. I don't want godhood, I don't want to become a god higher than the Archon, I don't like how really submissive but blind these people are when it comes to faith on their beloved "Creator". All I wanted is a perfectly normal life, here in Teyvat, and now I wanted to go back home because of what I suffered..."

Okay, now he felt really bad. You didn't deserved this! He felt thankful for following his guts.

"Anyways, Gaming, did you know I actually laughed at your voiceline about your troubles? Like the way you said "How much?!" and "I'm not paying for a few extra wet wipes!" got me rolling! Oh, and your thoughts on Qiqi, it's so wholesome! I'm glad Qiqi gets the respect she deserves..."

To be honest, when he brought you to his house, he is already flustered about how much you knew him, praised him, heck even he heard you said a lot people from your world liked him because of his personality. Gaming could feel like jumping to the atmosphere, he felt being recognized.

Meanwhile, you feel your trust coming back again, and it's directed towards the guy whom everyone in the fandom called him the "sunshine boi".

And you're quite thankful that he's not blind like those rodents (blinder than Dora the Explorer lol 💀)

"You know, I feel... happy about how much you knew me and praised me. I feel recognized unlike Our Grace for not answering our prayers."

ISTG THIS GUY IS MAKING OUR DAYS BETTER 😭😭💖💖💖

"Anyways, want some dim sum? 😃"

Yo, this is my first time writing a one shot in Tumblr. I usually write the stories on my notebook at school, and maybe sometimes post in Wattpad (I'm barely active there anymore, just only used it for reading purposes-)

#sagau impostor au #gaming x reader #can be read as platonic or romantic #genshin sagau #genshin impact #genshin x reader #gaming being a gen z as usual lol

38 notes · View notes

darthfrodophantom · 1 day

Text

Friendship Blossoms (in the wake of shared trauma)

Summary: Nobody Knows AU. A week after the asteroid nearly destroyed the world, Sam is back at school trying to adjust to daily life after a traumatic worldwide event. That adjustment is hard enough, but the presence of her former best friend who was just revealed to be Danny Phantom complicates it even further. After not speaking for two years after he seemed to give up on their friendship, how is she supposed to act around him now? And why does she keep running into him around the school?

Phic Phight Prompt: 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 - for Pax

AO3: Link

Going back to school after an asteroid nearly destroyed the entire planet felt so anticlimactic. It felt so banal and normal. In some way it felt good to go back to a routine. The planet kept turning, so civilization kept moving on. People went back to work, cars returned to the roadways, prices for items returned to normal, and now school was back in session. It felt comforting that society could bounce back after such a terrifying tragedy, but it also seemed like no one had really recognized the collective trauma felt by the entire world.

In a way, a week was not enough time to deal with the emotional ramifications that the entire world had almost died. That an unexpected asteroid had almost obliterated their entire planet and everything in it. That attempt after attempt to destroy or avoid the asteroid had failed. That their only saving grace had been a last ditch attempt by the Fentons of all people and the ghosts that had terrorized the city to turn the world intangible. It was a crazy idea. No one thought it would actually work, and yet the world threw so much effort into this insane plan because it had nothing else.

She could still remember clear as day (too clearly - probably some newly acquired PTSD that refused to let her forget any moment of it) sitting with her parents, her grandma, and the Foleys in the safe room (of course her insane parents had a safe room) watching the news feed of the crazy attempt to turn the world intangible. She sat and prayed with them and actually cuddled with her mother for support as they waited with bated breaths to see if Phantom’s crazy plan would work.

She forced herself out of her thoughts and back onto the cracked faux-leather of the bus seat in front of her. If she let herself, those memories of the day would consume her, and she knew that wasn’t healthy. Did she need a therapist? Probably. Could she get one now? Nope, because there weren’t enough of them to go around. Her parents agreed that going back to a routine would be good, that it was proof that the world kept spinning and kept moving and that life could get back to normal. She could see the logic there. Getting back on the bus felt familiar in a reassuring way, but it still felt too soon. It had only been a week, and she felt like she hardly had enough time to deal. Even the ghosts had been quiet and hadn’t attacked, so it was too soon even for them.

The bus slowed to a stop and Sam felt her stomach lurch with nerves. What could she possibly be nervous about? The school day would likely be pretty easy since it was everyone’s first day back.

“You think he’ll be here?” Tucker asked from beside her. They spent most of the trip sitting in the comfortable silence of two friends who spent far too much time together, but the finality of the bus making its final stop outside of the school seemed to pull his internal thoughts out.

She didn’t have to ask who he meant, because Sam had been thinking the same thing, and as her stomach churned again she realized the source of her nerves. “Does it matter if he is?” she replied plainly as she gathered her bag and got ready to file off the bus.

“Well…yeah. Shouldn’t it?” Tucker pressed.

Sam shrugged. “Even if he is, it’s not like he’s going to talk to us.” She stepped off the bus and gazed upon Casper High. A strange sense of security washed over her that the school still looked exactly the same despite everything. She had complicated feelings about public schools, especially her time spent in one, but it felt reassuring to know that it still stood strong. Darn, maybe her dad had been right about her needing a routine again. Well, she certainly wasn’t going to tell him he was right at least.

“Well, no,” Tucker said with a sad sigh. “But it feels like it would be good to know. Just so we could like, prepare.”

“Prepare for what?” Sam barbed as she turned to give him a hard look. She could see that hope blossoming in his eyes and she had to squash it before he was hurt again by their former friend’s behavior. “Prepare for him to ignore us? Prepare for him to avoid us? How would that be any different than any other day of school?”

“Yeah but–”

“No, there’s no ‘buts’ here Tucker,” Sam interrupted. “He’s ignored us for two years. Two years. And you think that now is the time he’d talk to us? Now, when he’s apparently a superhero of all things? No. He’s a celebrity now. He has even less reason to talk to us now than he did before.”

Maybe that’s why she’d been struggling so much. She wasn’t just working through her own trauma, but she had to somehow acknowledge and accept that one of her former friends was a superhero. The superhero. Her former friend Danny Fenton, who had been thick as thieves with them throughout middle school before he ditched them, was Phantom: the ghostly superhero who protected the town from other ghostly threats.

That realization had left her spinning, sometimes into dangerous and dark places. How did this happen? When did this happen? Had he always been like this or was it a recent thing? Was her friend dead? Sure she had been mad at him, but she never actually wished him dead! That thought chilled her to the bone. Had her friend died and none of them even realized it? Did he die and she just continued on with her life as normal? Is that why he pulled away? Did he pull away because he died and none of them even noticed? Was she more to blame for Danny ditching them than she ever let herself believe?

That was absolutely a road she refused to mentally traverse. He pulled away. He stopped talking to them. He kept running away every time she tried to talk to him. He avoided texting until she finally realized that a string of fifteen unanswered texts was a sign enough that she needed to stop. If he was going through something he should have said something. If he died he should have said something. She would have understood. She could have helped him. He did all of this, not her.

A group of students rushing past them pulled her out of her maddening thoughts. A moment later another group ran past. Excited chatter echoed down the hallway and seemed to reach a fever pitch as sunlight streamed down the hall from the outside doors opening. The excitement of the student body charged the hallway around them with an uncomfortable buzz. Sam instantly knew what happened: their local celebrity had arrived.

As if confirming her thoughts, excited murmurs of “he’s here!” or “it’s him!” fluttered around her as students pushed in closer to the doors. They flattened Sam and Tucker against their lockers as more and more students flooded the hallway. Tucker was so close she could feel his breathing grow shallow, and she reached over to squeeze his hand because she knew he got claustrophobic. She was fine - enjoying tight spaces was almost a requirement for being a goth - but being surrounded on all sides by hard metal and smelly teenagers wasn’t the kind of tight space she enjoyed.

A bubble of unoccupied space formed in the middle of the crowd of students. In the center of the bubble a familiar tuft of black hair caught her eye. Danny walked purposefully through the swarm of students with his hands tucked into his pockets and his head down. The students naturally parted around him as he moved through the hall, like water naturally parted around soap. Or how fish part around a shark. Everyone wanted to gawk at him, but no one wanted to risk getting near him. Sam felt a twinge of sorrow for her former friend because no one ever wanted to be avoided like that. Well…no one except Danny. He seemed to love avoiding people. Maybe this was actually what he wanted?

As soon as he broke even with them, he looked over in their direction. Their eyes locked for just a moment before Danny quickly averted his gaze. He sunk deeper into his hunched shoulders and walked faster down the hall. The students clamored to part around him faster to still keep that natural distance. He moved out of sight as the student body followed from their safe distance, taking the crowd with him.

Tucker breathed in a couple large gulps of air. “Was that really necessary?” he complained as he stretched out and tilted his head towards the ceiling to bask in the open space around him. “I mean, yeah it must suck for Danny, but did they really have to force us into the crowd too? Horrible.”

Sam didn’t even listen to half of his complaints as she silently fumed. Why did he look away so quickly? Was he worried that their mutual acknowledgement of the existence of the other would somehow obligate him to talk to them? He’d learned a long time ago how to avoid that. But then why did he even look over at them in the first place if he wanted to avoid their gaze? It didn’t make any sense.

“Come on, let’s go to class,” she decided. She wanted to take advantage of the clear hallway while she could.

“Are you sure?” Tucker hesitated as he looked down the hall that Danny and his new throng of terrified admirers disappeared down. “It feels weird to–”

“No,” she snapped, still sore from the reminder that her friend had been through some shit and hadn’t even bothered to reach out. “It feels exactly the same way it’s been feeling. He’s avoiding us again, like he always does. Come on.”

They packed up their things and trudged off to class. The routine felt deceptively normal, even though they knew nothing would be the same.

Just like the rest of the student body, Sam’s thoughts throughout class focused on Danny. Not intentionally, but they just kept drifting to him. He sat in class with them, towards the back like normal. She purposefully refused to look at him, but she could swear that sometimes she felt his gaze on the back of her head. At one point she entertained the thought that he might be trying to get her attention, but that was silly. He didn’t want their attention and nothing he’d done in the past two years had changed that, and it certainly wouldn’t change now.

As soon as the bell rang for class Danny practically shot up out of the room. She couldn’t really blame him. People in class knew him well enough that they tried to talk to him. Ask him questions. Pester him with comments. Paulina tried to flirt with him, and Sam didn’t know why that bothered her as much as it did. She rarely heard him talk, so either he answered in a quiet voice or he avoided their questions. Well, he was good at avoiding, so that made sense. And as soon as he got the chance, he avoided them all again by fleeing the classroom. She didn’t know what salvation he expected to find in the hallways because it didn’t seem any better outside of the classroom, but the strange bubble must have seemed preferable to the questions.

She met up with Tucker next to their locker to switch out their books when the mass of students flooded past them again. This time they knew what to expect and waited it out as Danny walked past them again. Sam found it odd to see him in this hallway again because she knew that his locker was much closer to their next class and he didn’t actually need to go this way. Maybe he just enjoyed the walk?

“I kinda wish he’d talk to us,” Tucker lamented as their local celebrity disappeared around the corner.

“I don’t,” Sam snapped, and she slammed her locker door for emphasis.

“Really? Do you really mean that? Or are you saying it as a way to act out?” Tucker pressed with a knowing look that Sam did not appreciate. She’d been friends with him for too long.

“Shut up. I mean it.”

“But don’t you have questions?”

“Of course I have questions,” she countered. What kind of question was that? “I have so many questions. But I’ve had questions for two years and he hasn’t bothered to answer any of them, so why would he start now?”

“Well, I was kinda hoping that this,” Tucker gestured to the hallway like it was all the explanation he needed, “was the reason for a lot of it. And with that out of the way, I dunno, maybe he’d be more willing to answer them?”

“That sounds like wishful thinking,” Sam dismissed.

“Well…yeah…maybe it is. But I can still hope,” he shrugged.

Sam didn’t quite have it in her heart to tear down his hope even further, even though she knew it would crush him later when he realized it was forlorn. She liked to think of herself as a realist, and everything Danny had done since high school showed her that nothing would really change. The news coverage of his transformation and maybe an expose news article in the future would be the only answers they’d get about what happened to their friend, and she knew better than to hope for something more.

Danny had shown them time and again he was unreliable: that when they needed him, he wasn’t there. When he promised to do something, he didn’t deliver. And he had no excuses or explanations ready, just a hollow apology that meant less and less every time he used it until he just stopped apologizing altogether. She could see now that some of that was probably because he was fighting ghosts, and she could be gracious enough to allow that as a good excuse, but he should have told them. He should have trusted them. He didn’t, and he let their friendship degrade to the point where even the shell of their former friendship crumbled into dust. She knew better than to expect anything to change or for some friendship to rise from the ashes, because those ashes had been swept away by the wind long ago. Hadn’t they?

She growled and walked off towards class without even announcing it to Tucker. He seemed to get the hint and rushed after her, but both of them remained quiet.

“Do you think he’s trying to talk to us?” Tucker asked as they scoped out an empty table for lunch.

“Again Tucker, that’s wishful thinking,” Sam sighed.

“But he seems to keep popping up around us,” he pointed out. “Usually we barely even see a glimpse of him.”

She had to admit that she’d had the same thought. She’d seen Danny’s face more today than she had the last full week of school. He kept walking by their lockers even if he didn’t need to and she kept feeling his eyes on her. He also sat closer to them during one of their classes, but she also had a feeling that was out of necessity to avoid the prying eyes and attentions of the class. Was he trying to see how they were reacting? Trying to gauge how they were handling the news by stalking them? Well if that was the case, then she was happy to see that her poker face of generalized displeasure seemed to be doing its job because it looked like he was still looking for an answer. A small part of her felt satisfied and preened at his uncertainty - about time for him to be left in the dark about something for a change.

“It’s coincidence,” she dismissed. “He’s trying to avoid everyone else, and since everyone else avoids us, it’s putting him into our path.”

Tucker shook his head. “No, I don’t think that’s it.”

Sam plopped her lunchbox onto their usual table and sat down. She actually felt excited about her lunch today; ever since the asteroid her parents made a concerted effort to embrace her as a person more and started buying more vegan-friendly food. She appreciated the gesture, even if it took literally the end of the world for them to finally see eye-to-eye.

Tucker sat down across from her absent-midedly, and she followed his distracted gaze to see Danny enter the cafeteria. Immediately all the other eyes of the room fell on him and a strange hush settled across the large room. That was a bold move, entering such a crowded space. Danny must have also realized the error of his ways because he stood awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of whether he should press on or run. She noticed a lunchbox in his hands, so the need to buy food clearly didn’t drive him to enter the cafeteria, so she had to wonder what insanity drew him in here.

She would have found some secluded spot and ate lunch there. She knew he preferred a spot on the edge of the campus under a large tree because she’d seen him eat there far away from them time after time. She and Tucker tried to approach him there once, early on in their crumbling friendship when she thought they still had a chance to patch things up. He practically ran away from them when they approached. He yelled at them to take a hint and to stop bothering him. She never tried to seek him out at lunch again. It really had been the beginning of the end.

His indecision on what to do seemed to be his downfall. After a morning of keeping a safe buffer around him, the student body grew more brazen. Emboldened by the fact that Danny really hadn’t done anything ghostly or aggressive the entire day, they risked getting closer. And closer still. They closed the gap around him slowly. The volume of chatter in the room grew into a crescendo of questions and calls and shouts aimed at the ghostly celebrity.

Danny must not have realized what was happening until it was too late. They lurched forward as one unit until they were on top of him. Surrounding him. Touching him. Pulling him towards their table or their conversation. He held his hands up in defense, pleading with them to let him go, but none of them listened. He wasn’t a person anymore. He was a celebrity - an object that existed at the beck and whim of the population to fulfill their needs and desires.

Sam watched as Danny’s individual rights as a person disappeared under the horde of students. Anger boiled under her skin. No one deserved to be treated that way, but Danny least of all. Sure they had their beef. Sure he treated them horribly. But he was a hero. He had saved them and the school and hell even the world and he deserved better than this.

She stood up and pushed her way aggressively through the crowd. She had no problems throwing the full weight of her combat boots onto the feet of people who refused to step out of her way. She fought through the masses as she screamed at them to leave him alone. She shoved people out of the way, kicked at their shins, and stomped on their feet until she reached the center. Surprisingly, Tucker followed after her. She couldn’t imagine how claustrophobic he must feel willingly plunging himself into this mob of students, but he pushed his way in nonetheless.

As soon as they reached Danny they formed a circle around him. She reached her arms back around to grab Tucker’s hands as they formed almost a protective cage around him. They couldn’t give him much of a buffer and she felt people press on her arms, but she tried.

“Get away!” she yelled as she lightly kicked someone who got a little too close for her comfort. “You can’t just mob people! He has a right to his own personal space!”

The crowd didn’t seem to have any care for her protests and only pushed in harder. The sound of their cheers and questions almost deafened her and it swallowed up her verbal protests. This really wasn’t getting them anywhere.

“Danny, just get out of here!” Sam ordered as she craned her neck to catch a glimpse of him behind her. “Do something ghostly and get out of here! We’ll hold them off!”

She stood firm as she waited for Danny to save himself, but she didn’t notice any change. What was taking him so long? Why was he hesitating? Everyone already knew so there was no point in continuing to hide it.

Finally she heard the students around her gasp and they stopped pushing against her. Danny must have finally used one of his powers to escape. About time. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold them off. But what the hell was he waiting fo–

A tingle followed by an unnatural chill raced through her body starting from her arm. Her stomach dropped as she fell, and she yelped until the ground swallowed the sound. She only saw soil around her, but she couldn’t really feel it. If she focused on it she maybe felt like a gust of wind passed through her when she fell, but it felt so faint and non-specific that she had to wonder if her brain just thought she felt the breath of wind because she knew she should feel something when passing through solid matter.

Something tugged on her arm as she traveled quickly through soil and rocks and tree roots. That tugging sensation pulled upwards and she emerged from the ground and into the air. She felt weightless hovering above the ground for just a moment before Danny’s hand let go of its tight grip on her arm and she dropped down onto the padded grass.

She clasped a hand to her chest and clenched onto the now solid material of her black shirt. Her wide eyes looked around and noticed the school in the distance - the building they had just been in before she traveled through the ground. She also noticed a large tree beside them - the same one that Danny always took refuge under. The same one where he told them to leave him alone. And yet this time he brought them here instead of chasing them away.

She finally noticed Tucker sitting in the grass next to her, so he must have brought him here too. She also caught his wide-eyed stare as he looked at his new surroundings with shock and maybe a little awe, but mostly shock. He clearly needed a moment to gain his bearings, and honestly she still did too, because they had just traveled through the ground. Not over it or above it, but through it. Something that should have been impossible for anyone except…well a ghost.

Danny must have picked up on their shocked expressions - in fact he seemed incredibly attuned to their reactions - and he immediately backed up a few steps and blushed. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized. His wide, panicked eyes looked desperately between the two of them as he tried to gauge their reactions further. “I probably should have asked and not just assumed I could–” He ran a hand nervously through his hair and ducked his head. “I just didn’t want to leave you there.”

“It’s okay man,” Tucker finally said as he fisted his hands in the grass below them. “It was getting a little cramped in there, so it’s good to have an out.”

She should have felt grateful he thought about saving them because otherwise she and Tucker would have been left in the middle of a dissatisfied crowd with only them to blame for Danny’s disappearance. And she was, but his stupid antics put them in that situation in the first place!

She stood up to glare at him properly and he recoiled slightly. That recoil gave her pause for just a moment. He fought monstrous ghosts. She’d seen pictures of some of them and they were horrifying or incredibly powerful. Phantom always stood firm against those ghosts. So why did he back away from her of all entities? She pushed on and gave him a light shove. “What the hell were you thinking?” He shrunk further against her onslaught. “Going into the cafeteria? That was stupid!”

Danny blinked slowly. If he had been building himself up for a response, he clearly did not expect that one. “What?”

“You’re getting swarmed everywhere you go, so you decide to go to the most populated room in the entire school? What kind of idiot does that?!”

“Oh. Um…” He grabbed at his arm and ran his hand along the hem of his shirt. “Well I…I was looking for you guys,” he admitted quietly.

Sam dropped all her bluster as she regarded him with confusion. “You were looking for us?” He hadn’t actively sought them out since high school started, but now, today of all days, he finally decided he wanted to talk to them?

“Yeah I…I kept trying to talk to you. Don’t know if you noticed. It just never felt like the right time. Too many people or not enough time or you guys just looked mad. And you have every right to be mad!” he added quickly as if trying to preemptively stop an argument. “But then Jazz told me there would never be a right time and it was always gonna be awkward and boy was she right about that, so I just decided to go for it. Didn’t really think that one through though.”

“I don’t understand,” she admitted bluntly. “You wanted to talk to us? After everything now you want to talk to us? Did you want to make sure we saw the news? Because don’t worry, we definitely did.” That came out harsher than she intended, and even Tucker gave her a warning glare.

“No! Nothing like that! I just–” He let out a huge breath as his shoulders dropped in defeat. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything. I’m sorry I pulled away. I didn’t really know what to do. All of a sudden all this…stuff started happening and I didn’t know what to do. I thought about telling you, all the time, but I didn’t know how to explain it. And then I worried maybe you’d freak out or think I was some kind of freak or something and I just got scared. And then it just kept snowballing and I felt you getting more and more annoyed with me so I just pulled away.”

“You should have said something,” Sam snapped as she crossed her arms over her chest. Yes it felt good to have an answer. Yes it felt good to have a reason, but she realized that none of that actually mattered when faced with the fact that her friend knowingly hurt them because he didn’t trust them.

Danny winced, but he took the blows without argument. “I know.”

“You lied to us! You abandoned us! And with zero reasons!” she yelled as she lashed out against him with two years worth of pain and suffering that she’d kept bottled up inside. “You were afraid of us abandoning you? Well you abandoned us! You told us to never bother you again! How do you think that felt, huh Danny? Because it sucked! It hurt! And we had no idea why!” Danny winced at her onslaught, but she didn’t intend to stop. “And I think it’s rich that you could do it to us because you were too scared that we would do it to you.”

“Sam, come on,” Tucker spoke up as he tried to play the role of the peaceful negotiator. “Some of that isn’t fair.”

“No, it’s okay,” Danny said as he looked sadly between his friends. “What she’s saying is fair. I deserve it.”

Something about being given permission to rage angered her even more. “Damn right you deserve it! Friends don’t keep secrets Danny! And they especially don’t keep big secrets like this! You should have trusted us!”

“I know,” he sighed.

“I mean do you think so little of us that we would have disowned you or treated you any different because of this?”

“No! Of course not! I just…I didn’t want to take the risk. I thought I’d lose you,” he admitted quietly as he looked down at the ground.

“Yeah, well you lost us anyways,” Sam snarled. He looked up at her and she could see the hurt etched across his face and the rejection glimmer in his eyes. She’d gone a little too far there, and she recognized that, but he had! He kept this secret from them so he wouldn’t lose their friendship, and then he sat by and let it happen anyways! The only difference was he got to control when that happened. He got to do the breaking up instead of the one being broken up with.

“Ouch Sam,” Tucker remarked from the side.

She rounded on Tucker this time. “Oh no, you don’t get to act like you’re the level-headed one. You’re just as mad at him as I am! I know you are!” How many times had they sat and ranted in her room? How many times had Tucker been the first one to curse Danny under his breath because he ditched them again? How many times had Tucker gone on text rants about losing his best friend and Sam could only listen and try to help him vent as much as he could? No, he didn’t get to act all angelic about this when she knew that fury and that hurt burned in him too.

Tucker didn’t back down against her ire and stood his ground. “Yeah, I am. What you did sucked bro,” he seconded as he turned to face his friend. Danny dropped his gaze back down to the ground. “But is this really the time? All day I was hoping maybe now we could talk. And hey look, we are. I don’t really want to spend all that time yelling at each other. That’s not gonna get us anywhere.”

Sam’s anger deflated because Tucker made a valid point. Did raging at Danny make her feel better? Absolutely. Did seeing that hurt on his face fuel some horrible vindication in herself? Unfortunately it did. But none of that would actually fix anything. None of that would give her or Tucker the answers they wanted and maybe even needed. And if Danny wasn’t going to argue and engage in a good knock-down argument where they both screamed at each other until neither of them had anything left, then she’d have to calm herself down to engage in a civil talk.

“No, it’s okay,” Danny allowed. “I deserve the insults and the yelling. I was a jerk. I abandoned you, I shut you out, I lied to you, and I didn’t trust you. That’s not what a friend does, and I know it. That’s why I stopped trying to be one.”

“We could have helped you, Danny,” Tucker said sadly. “With all of this. You had to be going through a lot. We could have helped.”

“...I know,” he sighed as his shoulders sagged. “I wanted to say something. I kept hoping maybe you’d just figure it out. Not like this obviously. This is literally the worst. But by the time I felt like maybe it could be okay, we already weren’t talking and it just felt like it was too late.”

“Is it?” Sam asked with a much calmer voice.

Danny looked up with a raised eyebrow. “Is it what?”

“Is it too late?”

Danny shrugged as he scuffed his heel along the grass. “I guess that’s up to the two of you. I just…I really miss my friends.”

His voice broke a little on the word friends, and despite how angry Sam felt at him for the past two years of treating them like gum under his shoe (a nuisance he couldn’t get rid of fast enough until it finally dried up enough to scrape off and discard), her heart broke a little for him. She truly thought about his situation for a moment. How scared he must have been to tell them. How physically different he had become and the fear that would impact the way he related to everyone else. How alienating and isolating it had to be now that he was somehow a ghost and a person at the same time. Her stomach twisted and she felt so sad for her friend in that moment and the emotional turmoil he had to be experiencing.

Yes he should have trusted them, but maybe she and Tucker didn’t do enough to show that he could trust them. Maybe they didn’t make the friendship seem safe enough that he could tell them anything? She hoped she did, but if she didn’t, then that was on her just as much as it was on Tucker. And despite offering to talk and promising to understand numerous times over text, if he didn’t actually trust that to be the case, then she could understand his hesitation. This was a big secret because it basically changed Danny into an entirely different person, and she had to accept that he wasn’t obligated to share it with them until he was ready.

Sam wrapped her arms around her torso and gave him a small smile. “We miss you too.” Her voice cracked a little too with emotion, but in this moment she didn’t actually care. This was a good emotion, and she didn’t have to hide it behind some tough exterior, not right now.

“Yeah man, it hasn’t been the same without you,” Tucker echoed.

Danny smiled weakly as he wrapped his arms around himself in a self-hug. He gestured to the shade under the nearby tree. “Look can we…I know I have a lot to make up for, but can we talk? Like really talk?”

“I think we’ve all been needing to talk for awhile,” Sam agreed. And she’d do her best to stay calm and not let her own emotions cloud what needed to be said. She’d try to remember that she may not be blameless for the deterioration of their friendship, and she needed to be okay with that. And at the end of it, she probably had to be ready to forgive. She didn’t know if she had been quite ready to forgive him when she started the day, but she had a feeling she’d be a little more open to it now.

“And then dude, I have so many questions.” Tucker’s excited voice broke the somber mood for just a moment. “Because this whole ghost superhero thing is awesome and I want to know everything!”

Danny chuckled a bit and ducked his head as a blush spread across his cheeks. “Really? It’s not like weird or freaky or anything?”

“No man, it’s so cool,” Tucker affirmed as he pulled him into a one-armed hug from the side. “And I’m dying to know more.” He paused for a moment with a wince. “Okay, poor choice of words there.”

“Or the best choice of words,” Danny offered with a laugh.

“Yeah yeah, not all of us are insane and love puns,” Sam sighed as she shook her head, but she also smiled because it just felt so easy. Sliding back into the puns and the light teasing and the fun. It felt so natural and right and even though she knew so much bitterness existed between them, it brought a lightness to her heart to have that again.

“Or are you just not used to them after I ghosted you for so long?” Danny asked with an exaggerated wink on the emphasized word.

Sam forced her lips into a scowl as she tried so hard not to laugh. She hated Danny’s puns, always had, but that one was legitimately clever. As Tucker cackled from the side, she couldn’t stop the corners of her lips from curling into a smile.

“Are we here to talk or make stupid puns?” she finally asked when she knew she could keep a straight face.

“I mean, I can be here for both,” Danny suggested with a smirk. There, right there she saw Phantom. That confident, fun smirk. She didn’t know how she didn’t see it before. Well, probably because she hadn’t seen that smirk from Danny in over two years. She pushed that bitter thought out of her mind because that didn’t help their new mutual goal of clearing the air. She gave Danny an exasperated look and didn’t even acknowledge his statement before she sat down pointedly under the tree. The other two joined her on the pleasantly cool grass.

“Oh man, we left our lunch on the table,” Tucker groaned, but his stomach groaned even louder.

Normally she’d give Tucker a hard time for always thinking with his stomach, but her own hungry belly thought back to her abandoned black bean hummus wrap with resigned disappointment. She had been looking forward to that, but she didn’t think any of them should go back into the cafeteria right now.

Danny shifted nervously in the grass, a marked contrast to his previous joking nature. “...I can go get them,” he said, barely louder than a mumble.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Danny, you’re literally the last person who should go back into that school right now.”

He sighed. “No I mean…I can sneak in and get them.”

Right. Ghost powers. Somehow she kept forgetting. That realization had been on her mind so much since she saw the news report. It consumed her thoughts all morning and really, that realization was the only reason they could talk right now. How she hadn’t put the pieces together astonished her.

Tucker also finally realized what he meant and his eyes grew wide. “Oh my god yes! Oh this is so brilliant. Yes yes, go get it!” he encouraged as he practically vibrated with excitement.

Danny hesitated for a moment as he bit his lip. He looked so nervous, and Sam’s heart went out to him that he was so scared to show this part of himself to his friends. Finally he nodded and stood with some renewed internal resolution. He took a deep breath as two rings of light appeared around his waist.

She saw the opposite transformation on the news footage. She’d replayed it over in her head multiple times since she saw it because her mind struggled so hard to accept it. But seeing it on a screen and seeing it in person were two very different things. One moment her friend stood there, and then the next there was Phantom. But this time when she looked at the face of their ghostly protector, she could see Danny in there now. That strange glow that emanated from his skin hid those familiar features before, but she could see them now that she knew to look for them. A strange energy lingered in the air after the transformation, one she could swear she remembered feeling around Danny before. It left the hair on her arms standing for just a moment, but it wasn’t unpleasant. She could get used to it.

She was proud to say she only jumped slightly, but she made it a point to put on a reassuring smile as his glowing eyes searched their faces desperately for a reaction. Tucker looked about ready to vibrate out of his skin with excitement. “So cool,” he breathed out in awe, and Danny blushed.

She remained calm and just gave him a supportive nod. He smiled weakly back. “I’ll uh, be right back.” He disappeared from sight, causing Sam to jump again. A breeze blew past them, and she had a feeling that meant Danny had flown off.

“That was a test right?” Tucker asked after a moment when he was sure Danny was gone.

“Oh yeah, it was definitely a test,” Sam confirmed. He was making them prove they could handle this. Those fears of rejection still clearly gnawed at him, and before he threw himself completely into talking everything out and building a new foundation for friendship going forward, he needed to ensure this pillar was strong. Well she could do that. She didn’t care about him being a ghost or part ghost or whatever he was. She didn’t care about the powers or the ghost fighting. She only ever cared that he abandoned them. So if he needed proof that she was a solid pillar he could lean on, she could give him that.

“Do you think we passed?” he pondered with a slight frown.

“Yeah, I think we did,” she said as she tucked her knees to her chest. “But we’ll know for sure if he comes back.”

It didn’t take him long. Danny made it to the cafeteria and back with impressive haste. Maybe he wanted to get back before they had the chance to leave, or maybe he wanted to maximize the amount of time they had to talk before lunch ended. Maybe he was just hungry. Sam really couldn’t say why, but she was grateful they didn’t have to put the talk off for too much longer. She spent a good amount of time blowing up at him (she refused to say she wasted that time because she really felt like she needed that), but she also needed the time to really talk with him.

He appeared suddenly beside them, still floating in the air. Even though she knew he would be arriving at some point, his sudden appearance still caused her to jump. Tucker not only jumped but let out a slight yelp and placed a hand on his heart. “Danny! God you can’t–we are not making this a trend. My out-of-shape heart cannot take that. We need to figure out like a warning or something.”

Danny laughed as he sat cross-legged in the air. That flash of light transformed him back into himself - or rather the other form of himself - and he plopped down onto the grass beside them. He passed out their lunchboxes while a slight smile played across his lips. He seemed more comfortable with them, more like his older self. If he hadn’t just turned visible, floated in the air, and summoned a ring of light around his waist, Sam would have thought it was two years ago by how easy it felt to sit together as a trio again. They must have passed the test.

With a deep breath Danny looked at both of his friends. “Alright, let’s talk.”

It wouldn’t be perfect. It wouldn’t be easy. A lot of bad blood still existed between them, and one conversation wouldn’t wash away all of it. But it was a start. Maybe they could get back to where they were before, or maybe that friendship could blossom into something even better now that they had a shared understanding between each other - that remained to be seen. But knowing that they had a chance to talk, really talk, and air out their grievances and misunderstandings filled Sam with a warmth she hadn’t felt in years. Maybe she could finally have her friend back. And for the first time since the threat of that deadly asteroid shook the very foundation of the world, Sam actually had a feeling things would be okay. Life would move on, life would get better, and she would get better with her friend back at her side. Because sitting in the shade of the same tree in a circle with her two best friends made everything feel right in the world once again.

Note: Thanks for reading everyone! I had a lot of fun with this one. It's my first foray into a Nobody Knows AU and I really enjoyed it! Also there's no way you could dangle a prompt that's a post-reveal and allows me to show the student body's reaction to Danny post-reveal without me latching onto it.

#danny phantom #fanfiction #danny phantom fanfiction #sam manson POV #Nobody Knows AU #but now Everyone Knows AU #Phantom Planet Compliant #but not really #friendship #friendships are hard #but you can work through it with effort #post identity reveal #phic phight 2024 #phic phight #phic phight 24 #team ghost

20 notes · View notes