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finelinefae · 10 days

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you & I (prince!h)

synopsis: harry is a royal in love with a serving girl

word count: 5.7k

contains: fluff , nothing crazy I don’t think

. . .

Y/N was a simple serving girl. An orphan by the age of twelve after her mother and father died of influenza, she learnt to live alone and did so graciously. She knew that there was no point in arguing with the forces of life and so she spent much of her time doing small jobs in order to buy a small something to eat in the evenings and keep a roof over her head.

"Y/N, where have you been?" Maria looked at her wide eyed with hands on her hips as she wiped the sweat from her brow.

After a long time of searching for a permanent job, Y/N met Maria at a local market in the town centre of the village. She was at her worst, begging for scraps of food or something that would stop her stomach from rumbling for at least a little while. Maria was kind enough to offer her a tangerine and a job at the Duke's mansion where she would be a serving girl for as long as she could.

She didn't earn a lot but it was enough to get by and she even managed to save up enough to buy a little cottage home outside the town where she had her very own vegetable patch and an apple tree in the front garden.

"I'm sorry Maria, I came across a stall at the market and they were selling fresh loaves of bread. I thought it would be perfect to serve for the Duke with his breakfast." She placed the brown bag on the kitchen counter and took out the loaf of bread.

"Y/N my darling," Maria shook her head, she was use to the girls antics and couldn't help but let it slide. Maria was unmarried and couldn't have any children of her own so, in her eyes, Y/N was a gift sent from heaven and she cared for her as a mother would for her own child. "Pequeña soñadora." (Little dreamer) She wiped the dirt from Y/N's cheek and kissed her forehead.

Y/N grinned and grabbed her apron off of the pegs where the other servants would hang up their aprons as well. She sat on the bench close to the back door where she replaced her small, battered, brown pumps with black, lace up shoes which has a small heel to them.

She grabbed the trays of food which would be served to the Duke for his breakfast. "And what mood is the Duke in today Anthony?" Y/N leaned over and smiled, Anthony was the Duke's servant and was always giving updates on how the Duke was acting.

"The usual my sweet," He says, "Make sure you put a few more raspberries on his pancakes, might do the trick in cheering him up." Y/N nods and carries the tray to the dining hall, Ariana and Taylor following behind her.

They two double doors creek loudly as they're opened by the doorman. Y/N curtsies in front of the Duke and Duchess, keeping her head down as she brings them their breakfast. "Your breakfast my Lord." Y/N speaks, clearly.

"Thank you Y/N." The Duke addresses her and awaits for his plate of breakfast to land in front of him. Y/N takes the plate of raspberries and pours a few more onto his pancakes just like Anthony told him too.

Suddenly, the double doors open again and the sound of clicking shoes against the marble flooring catches Y/N's attention. She looks up as she reaches to grab the pot of tea and makes eye contact with a set of piercing, green eyes.

"Good morning father, sorry I'm late." Harry Styles, son of the Duke, a Marquess, enters the room and sits down in his usual spot opposite his mother.

"And what is your excuse this time boy?" The Duke responded, Y/N's body temperature changing from being so close to the Marquess.

"It was a perfect morning for hunting, took Banksy out with me and went out into the forest." Y/N pours tea into the Duke's mug before walking over to Harry, her pulse raising with every step she took.

"Did you catch anything?" The Duke feasted on his breakfast as he spoke, food getting caught in his greying moustache.

As Y/N poured the tea, her heart hammered against her chest when she felt Harry move his hand to brush against hers. She had a steady hand but was close to pouring the hot tea all over him.

She looked down at Harry who was still looking at his father, pretending the interaction didn't happen but she knew exactly what he meant by it.

"Will that be anything more my Lord?" Y/N asks, it was usual protocol.

The Duke says nothing and waves her off, giving her the signal to leave. Y/N leaves the dining room but doesn't hesitate to turn back and glance over at Harry who's already smiling right back at her.

Breakfast was over and Y/N was given a five minute window before she had to help make lunch. She reached for her coat and wrapped it around herself, looking over her shoulder before walking outside through the back door.

Once she had reached her destination, she looked around and was elated to see the head of brown curls walking towards her. His lean, long legs walking hastily knowing she had such a short amount of time to talk.

Without a moments hesitation, he picked her up and spun her around in his arms, a giggle eliciting from her lips. "Oh my beautiful girl." He grins, happiness apparent in his appearance. "How has it been just little under twenty four hours since I last saw you yet I have missed you ever so much?"

Y/N bites her lip, she could already feel her cheeks aching from a want to smile at his words. "I missed you too Harry." She leans forward and pecks his cheek but he shakes his head, leaning into her and placing his lips onto hers.

"I'd die happy, right here with you." He pulls away and looks at her so deeply into her eyes.

Y/N frowns, her mind was always plagued over the fact that her love with Harry was forbidden. She was a mere serving girl in a house that belonged to Harry's father and would soon belong to him.

"What's wrong baby?" Harry rubs his thumb under eye, feeling her skin beneath his touch.

Y/N nuzzles her cheek against his hand, "Do you ever wonder what life would be like outside these walls?" She murmurs, admitting her desires all of a sudden.

"What do you mean?" He looks at her confused.

"Harry you know there is no possibility for us to be together within this kingdom. Your father is a royal and you are too, as much as you hate to admit it," The more she spoke, the more Harry grew frustrated by her words because as much as he detested the true state of their relationship, he also knew it was true. "But out there my love, there is so much for us, so much we can do. I've seen it."

Harry knew of Y/N's past, she had told him once on a night she would never forget. The night they had their first kiss under the stars in the garden that she adored spending so much time in.

"What are you suggesting?" He knew what she was suggesting but he also knew his little love was so full of dreams and it hurt him knowing she had no way of reaching them considering her class.

She felt her lips turn downwards slightly but she tried to smile, her expression bittersweet knowing she was off in one of her daydreams again. "I'm not suggesting anything Harry, it's merely a dream I have. I know your duty lies here with the Duke and you will live out your life in this mansion where you will marry a rich, beautiful woman and have plenty of children who you will pass the name down to. Whilst I, a poor serving girl, will be at your side until my last dying day."

She tried to pull away from him, the words upsetting her no matter how true they were. She felt Harry grip onto her arm softly, not wanting to hurt her but wanting her to stay. "My sweet girl what on Earth are you talking such nonsense for?" He spoke, "You know I've never wanted to be Duke and the only beautiful woman I will marry is you. You and I will have plenty of children which we will pass our name down to and we will be at each others side for eternity, long after death."

Y/N smiled at his words, imagining the life she could have if his words ever came to life, but they couldn't. "Harry-"

"Baby," He interrupted her, "run away with me."

Her lips parted in shock at what he was suggesting. She shook her head in much disbelief.

"You have no idea what you are saying." She speaks as if she wasn't suggesting it a few minutes ago.

"Oh I know exactly what I'm saying," He smiles, cheekily and pulls her into his embrace.

She looks up at him, resting her head on his shoulder as she whispers into his ear, "The life you'll live Harry, it's nothing like it is here. There are no servants waiting on you and serving you three meals a day. We may not know if we'll even get breakfast let alone supper and we'll have to run away from the village. You'll be missing and the Duke will have no one to give his title to, the Styles name ending with him. Think about this."

"My love I have spent many nights thinking about this, I spend all my nights dreaming of a life with you where we don't have to sneak around to be together. We can live somewhere far away where I can touch you," He runs his fingers down her arm and goosebumps arise, "Feel you," He whispers so close into her ear and digs his fingers into her waist and she gasps but doesn't halt his actions, "Worship you." He kisses the spot under her ear.

"You'd give it all up for me?" She wonders, in awe of the man she was falling in love with.

"I'd give up my life for you." His lips brush against hers, moving in closer to get a kiss from her.

"Y/N?" Maria called from the kitchen.

Y/N pulls away from him, knowing her five minutes were up and she had no choice but to go back and help the other servants. "Your leaving already?" Harry sighs, holding onto her hand so tightly she couldn't let go.

"Lunch is soon to come around so I have to help out in the kitchen." She wished she had more time to spend with him. "Are you still coming over tonight?" She had been excited about tonight considering she and Harry had been planning it for the last two weeks. He was planning on coming to her cottage since the Duke was leaving after lunch for formal duties at the crown court. He wouldn't be back until the morning which gave Harry much opportunity to sneak away and visit her in her little cottage.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world baby." He kisses her passionately before she can leave.

"I love you Harry." She whispers.

"I love you more and don't forget about what I said." He calls after her as she runs back to the kitchens.

She walks in through the back door in a daze, holding her hands to her heart and looking up at the ceiling. Being with Harry always felt like a dream.

She could feel someones eyes on her and looked forward to see Maria glaring at her. She shook her head after they made eye contact, "Estas entrando en aguas peligrosas pequeña soñadora." (You’re entering dangerous waters, little dreamer)

Y/N bit her lip and brushed her off. She knew what she was doing by being with Harry but she wouldn't give him up. She had done that far too much throughout her life and she wanted to be selfish just this once.

Lunch came about quicker than expected and the kitchen was already starting to get hectic as the servants plated up the food for each member of the family. Y/N was preparing the wine which she was going to serve and listened as Maria spoke to the other servants.

Anthony came in to alert everybody that the family were already waiting for their food and everyone picked up the trays of food. Y/N smiled, feeling giddy about seeing Harry after the conversation they had this morning.

The doors opened and she could already see him sat in his usual seat beside his father and opposite his mother. Y/N realised they had caught them mid conversation, her ears perking up to hear what they were talking about.

"Harry, are you prepared for the ball this Saturday night?" The duchess asked, a smile overcoming her features.

"In all honesty mother, it's barely crossed my mind." Harry sighs, his eyes glued to Y/N as she pours the wine in the duchess' glass.

"Well I've had Gerald go to the town to buy your garments. We need to looking spectacular since it's the perfect opportunity to find you a bride."

A loud thud catches the family's attention, their eyes diverting to Y/N who's picking up the jug of wine she had dropped on the floor. "I'm so s-sorry My Lord and Lady." She curtsies, apologising to them profusely.

"It's perfectly alright dear." The duchess places a hand on her to calm her down.

She ignored Harry's eyes on her as she got back to serving the wine. "I've already told you mother, I will do no such thing as finding a bride." He speaks.

"Nonsense Harry," It was the Duke's turn to speak, "We all agreed you would find a bride before the sixth month which is vastly approaching."

Y/N could feel her heart slowly breaking, Harry had never mentioned any of this to her. The sixth month was only a month away which meant they had little to no time in finding a bride.

"You cannot force me to marry father." You could hear the tension in Harry's voice as he tried to control his anger.

The Duke scoffs, "I think you'll find that I can because I am your father and above that the Duke. You are a Marquees Harry, you will be taking my title and carrying on the bloodline so, yes, I can force you to marry."

The servants were trying to go about their business knowing of the rise in tension in the room but Y/N couldn't ignore what was going on. Harry was going to find a bride and he didn't tell her of the short amount of time he had to find one.

"You and mother have always said to marry for love - I cannot force myself to fall in love with somebody." The Duke ignores Harry's words so he looks to his mother for help but she shakes her head, trying to stop him from angering the Duke even further.

Harry looks over at Y/N again, he knew she was hearing every word the family was saying and his heart felt heavy when he noticed the glassy look in her eyes as she kept her head down to avoid him.

Unable to control his rage, he hits his closed fist against the table, the entire thing shaking and startling everyone around him. "I have done so much for both of you, taken part in every duty you have signed me up to when you both know I'd rather die than keep my title. The least you could do is accommodate my one desire of refusing to marry someone I do not love." He spits, eyes filled with fury at both his parents.

The room is filled with an eerie silence with nothing but Harry's heavy breathing as the servants stand away from the table to one side, keeping their heads down.

Finally the Duke looks up at Harry, "You will be at the ball this Saturday night boy." Harry doesn't bother staying to hear the rest, he stands up and storms out of the room. The Duchess turns to the servants and apologises in a flustered state at the actions of her son.

Lunch was over before it had even begun and the servants had no choice but to clear up the plates which were still loaded with uneaten food. "Unbelievable." Ariana muttered under her breath, it was never fun when they had slaved away in the kitchen only for their food to go un-eaten.

Y/N was too far in her own head to respond, trying to mentally heal the heartbreak she was feeling after the whole ordeal at lunch. She carried the cups away with her and left the room to deliver them to the kitchen.

As she was about to turn the corner, she felt a tug on the end of her dress and was startled to see Harry, sympathy in his eyes. She could tell by the look on his face that he wanted her to follow him and, as much as she tried to fight herself, she followed him.

Harry pulled her into a vacant room that wasn't often used regularly. Y/N stood with her arms crossed waiting for him to talk. He paced back and forth and Y/N made no effort to calm him down even though she could see the torment across his features.

He finally looks at her, "Can I kiss you please?"

Y/N doesn't get the chance to say anything before he walks over and cups her face in his hands, kissing her lips. Y/N melted into him like she did every time. No matter what was going on between them, he never failed to make her feel so wanted and that was something she never often felt growing up.

But she couldn't deny the incessant reminder in her head that even though she was wanted now by him, she may not be in the future. After Saturday night he could make someone feel the exact same way and she refused to put herself in a situation like that.

"Harry," She pulled away, "Don't come over tonight." She hadn't even realised she had started crying until she wiped away a stray tear from her face.

She forced herself out of his embrace and turned away from him. She could hear him calling her name from behind. However, she knew Harry was stubborn so she had no choice but to be the one to walk away.

It was for the best. They had both always known that their relationship was doomed from the very beginning and now was the time to accept that.

Y/N walked home in the dark after a hard day at work. She carried a whicker basket with a loaf of bread inside that Maria had kindly sneaked her after supper was served in the evening. Considering the day she had, she was glad to have a little something to look forward to.

At the sight of her tiny cottage, her shoulders relaxed. She was so happy to finally be at home and away from everywhere else where she had time to think to herself. She immediately walked to the kitchen to heat up the loaf of bread and prepare a vegetable broth to have for dinner.

As she was about to add in her chopped carrots, a knock sounded at the door. Her eyebrows furrowed when she tries to this of who could be here at this time of day. She walked to the front door and held her ear to it in hopes it would give her an idea of who was there but it was impossible to make out any sound.

"Y/N it's me." Her breath caught in her throat when he spoke, her mind dividing her opinion of whether or not to open it for him. "I just want to talk to you, I-I want to explain everything and I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier but you have to believe me when I tell you all of this is what my father wanted... All I want is you."

Y/N was holding onto the door knob as she listened to him speak until one choice outweighed the other and she opened the door to reveal a sad looking Harry. He was a disheveled mess, his hair all over the place like he'd been running his fingers through it over and over in frustration.

Despite the flash of guilt that came to her, she stood her ground, crossing her arms and glaring at him. Harry couldn't help but grin as she tried her best to look angry, he knew she wouldn't hurt a fly. "You're so cute." He says, not caring how angry she was. He was always going to compliment her no matter what mood she was in.

"Did you follow me?" Y/N wondered, he had never been to her home before which was why tonight was so exciting for them.

"Maybe or maybe I asked Maria." He shrugged. "Can I please come in?"

Y/N wanted to keep him outside so he wouldn't think she'd forgive him so easily for not telling her about the deal Harry had with his parents but she was cold and tired and her soup was still on the stove. So, she moved to the side and allowed him entry.

Harry's face softened and he thanked her as he passed by. Y/N released a sigh and lead the way to the kitchen where she walked to the stove and went back to making her soup. "Your home is perfect, exactly how I thought it would be." Harry speaks, admiring the simplicity and cosiness of the home, wishing he had something remotely similar.

"Exactly how you thought it would be?" She wonders, smiling to herself since her back was to him.

"Mhm," He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, she couldn't help but sink into him. "Soft and pink." He murmured, "I'm sorry Y/N. I know I should have told you about the whole thing with my mother and father but I never thought it mattered when my plan has always been to run away with you."

Y/N turned around in his embrace and looked at him confused, "What are you talking about?"

"Baby, since the day I met you you had me wrapped around this tiny little finger," He held up Y/N's hand and pressed a kiss to her fingertips before placing it to his cheek so he could feel her soft skin, "I've always had dreams of running away with you, living a life of simplicity with just the two of us and maybe a few little ones too." He placed his hand on her belly and butterflies swarmed under his touch.

"You're crazy, you heard what your father said Harry. Maria likes to call me a little dreamer but she has yet to meet you," She pushed him away and turned back around to take the soup off of the stove.

"Why do you act like this isn't something you dream of as well." Harry was starting to get annoyed with people telling him that what he desired wasn't achievable.

"Of course I have dreamt of running away with you many times and-"

"The let's do it," He steps in front of her, picking up both of her hands in his, "Let's leave this place and be together."

She could see the true desperation in his eyes and she wanted nothing more than to say yes, "W-we can't."

Harry stepped away, "Why? Why can't we?"

Y/N looked at him and felt the flood gates fall open, tears running down her cheeks, "Because I am in love with you Harry." She confesses, having never confessed it before, "I am so in love with you my heart could burst and it's that exact reason I have no choice but to give you what's best. Maybe in another life, where class wasn't important and being poor was no longer a cause of death, we could be together but I love you so much and I want nothing more than for you to have everything you need."

Harry was speechless. "Y/N," He reached for her, pulling her into his chest as she cried. He touched her so delicately, looking into her eyes and seeing the love and heartbreak twirling around together in an achingly beautiful dance. "I love you too."

She sobbed even harder and kissed him on the lips, "Thank you for loving me so strongly my love but you have to understand, I don't want to be the next Duke. Not because of you or anyone else, it's a feeling I've had for as long as I can remember. My whole life I've been told what to do by my father and mother but you were the only person who saw me as something other than a Marquees. You've been the only thing I've needed to know I need to take control over my own life and so I need you to run away with me. Please, Y/N."

Y/N had been fighting hard for so long, knowing what was best for him and knowing how many problems this would cause if she were to say yes. She was tossing between her mind and heart but her heart was always going to win, it always did. "When?" She whispers.

Harry exhaled, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief. He kissed her so fiercely, harder than he had ever done before. They were finally going to get what they had both dreamt of, "Tonight. I've already told Maria and she's asked her husband to get us as far away from here as possible."

"You spoke to Maria about this?" Y/N was surprised Maria knew this was happening and even more surprised she was willing to give them money for their escape.

"It was the only way for me to know where you lived." Harry confessed. "You'll have to leave all this behind but we'll find a home and make it ours."

Y/N's heart warms. The soup was long forgotten about now as she ran about packing a small bag of her most valuable possessions to take with her.

Harry nodded in reassurance at her and lead her outside where he already had a horse waiting for them. It would be their main source of transport until they could got to the harbour where a boat would be waiting to take them away.

"Are you sure of this Harry?" She wanted to double check before they carried out the life changing decision.

"I've never been so sure of anything in my life." Harry says and helps her onto the horse. She glances back at her cottage. It was bittersweet leaving it behind, it was the first home she purchased in her whole twenty three years of living after being homeless but now she was going to be living somewhere new with Harry and money wasn't something she had to worry about for the time being considering Harry had bought a few valuables of his own for them to sell in order to start their new life.

They reached the harbour just as the sun was starting to rise. Y/N jumped off the horse and ran over to Maria who was arguing with her husband over something to do with the safety of the boat. Maria opened her arms when she noticed Y/N running towards her, "mi pequeño soñador." Maria teared up, "Be safe my love and don't forget to write to me."

Y/N nodded, crying with Maria who had been the only person before Harry who had always been there for her. Maria's husband was going to be taking them to the next border so they would be far enough to find somewhere to hide away.

"Baby," Harry reached out for Y/N's hand as he stood on the boat waiting for her.

"Thank you Maria for everything." Y/N cried and took Harry's hand, glancing back at Maria.

She waved to her as the boat began to sail away. She was sat in-between Harry's legs with her back against his chest, "I love you." He whispered, kissing her cheek.

"I love you too." Y/N responded, looking out at the sunrise feeling excited for her bran new life.

. . .

Four Years Later.

The sun shone through the window as it began to rise. Y/N felt the warmth from the sun rays hit her bare back as she lay in bed in the softest, white sheets. Harry ran a finger up and down her spine as he watched her sleep.

He pressed his lips to her bare shoulder and up her neck, "Are you hungry sweet girl?" He whispered.

Y/N smiled and nodded her head, slowly opening her eyes and meeting his green ones. Before Y/N had the chance to reply, the door to their bedroom creaked open and in waddled a their little baby.

"Mmmmaama!" Marie squealed, wearing nothing but a pullover around her waist. She was three years old but looked a year younger, she was born pre-mature and since Y/N was already quite small, Marie was tiny.

Harry's head fell onto Y/N's bare chest as he let out a groan, wanting time with his beautiful wife which was very rare considering they had a very clingy toddler.

"Dada no!" Marie tried to crawl onto the bed, clinging onto the blankets in a tight fist to try and pull herself onto the bed.

"C'mere Ri Ri," Harry chuckled, picking her up and placing her between Harry and Y/N.

"Maaamaaa!" Marie squealed and reached for her mother.

"Good morning little dove." Y/N kissed her chubby cheeks.

Harry smiled, he loved watching his girls interact together. "Hey Ri Ri, wanna come with dada to pick some fruit from the garden?"

Marie squealed, not really understanding what her father had said but agreed with him anyway. "Let's go cherry, let mama get dressed." He kissed Y/N on the forehead before grabbing the baby.

This was their life now.

They had ran away together four years ago and it was the best decision either of them could have made. For a while, both Y/N and Harry struggled to make a life for themselves. They were staying in a small hut as Harry went to work on a farm whilst Y/N worked at a local food shop.

They were so close to giving up in that moment but Harry was prepared to keep his promise of the life they both desired. They ended up travelling further down south after saving up enough money to buy a permeant place to live where they found a small cottage.

After a while, Harry had found a job on a job which gave him enough money to get by. Y/N also had a small job working three days a week at a hat shop but a year later she fell pregnant with Marie so for now she was only working twice a week.

There was no word on what happened to the Duke after Harry's disappearance. Both Y/N and Harry tried their best to avoid any talk of the Duke and Duchess but it didn't stop them from hearing rumours in their local town.

Y/N got dressed into one of her favourite dresses Harry had bought her for her birthday two years ago. She put on her boots to go outside where she saw Harry, wearing nothing but black trousers and boots as he held Marie who was now dressed into something besides her pullover.

She walked over to them and pressed her hand to Harry's bare back, catching his attention. Marie was picking apples off of the apple tree that had even planted in their back garden before they had bought the house.

Marie held up the apple to Harry, "That looks perfect Ri Ri," She giggled and put the apple in the brown basket.

"Marie decided we were going to have pancakes with fruit for breakfast." Harry updated Y/N.

"Oh that sounds wonderful." Y/N kissed Marie and then stood on her tiptoes to kiss Harry.

"You look beautiful." Harry says, his compliments never failing to make her blush. "Can we have another baby?"

Y/N laughed but he was completely serious about it, "Harry-"

"Let me put a baby in you." He pouted, "It'll be fun!"

"Fifteen minutes for nine months of pain? Sounds like fun to me," Her pregnancy with Marie was really difficult and swore her off having kids for the rest of her life.

“You know it’s a lot longer than fifteen minutes thank you very much.” He pinches her sides, "I won't force you because I know it's your body, m’love but just know whenever your ready I'll be right here to fulfil your wishes." He smirked and Y/N nudged him.

"Mamaa look!" Marie held out her chubby hand that was full of raspberries.

"Wow dove! Can mama try one?" She crouched down and opened her mouth for Marie to place a raspberry. "Delicious." She hummed and Marie giggled.

Y/N stood up and looked to Harry, "Maybe we can have another baby."

Harry grins, "I'll call Estella." He says, referring to Marie's babysitter.

He wraps one arm around Y/N's waist as they both stand and watch Marie picking berries in the home they dreamt of having together. He kissed her forehead, "I'm glad you ran away with me." He speaks softly into her ear, happy with the life he finally got to choose.

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harrysonlylover · 26 days

Text

Discipline

Summary: Agent Harry cherishes discipline, but he doesn’t like the fact that Y/n has been lacking it.

Trope: Agent Harry

WC: 6.8k

Warnings: MEAN Harry, shouting at Y/n, Angst, mention of blood tests and deficiencies, NO SMUT.

Agent Harry Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Choosing to become an agent would either be the worst decision in your life or the best. In Harry’s case, it was the latter.

He was born a leader—at least according to his mother. He had the household controlled from a young age, something that was perceived as adorable by adults.

But behind all his antics and “boss orders”, was a man eager to assert dominance starting from his early years.

His behavior was a replica of a leader or a man in power. His mother didn’t oppose his personality, perhaps a part of her thought it was just a phase, while the other was okay with it.

Little did she know that this stubborn young man would grow up to become one of London’s best secret agents.

As some would say—he didn’t choose the path, the path chose him. A fresh High School graduate eager to take a bite from what the world was offering him with little to no guidance.

Instead, he poured all of his focus on training like a man ready to enroll in the military—something that his mom disapproved of.

How could she allow her son, her boy to sign himself up like that?

Underneath his rough exterior and judgmental persona, his mother’s beliefs were dear to him. To this day, no one has deemed himself as important as her, and perhaps no one ever will.

So, after her sudden death when he was merely twenty—he allowed himself to get lost in grief, to go against the orders he created, and betray his strictness. His body dragged him around from one place to another, asking for fights, a punch here and there to transfer his emotional maim to a physical one.

The last time he would do that was also his first chance at a new beginning. Drunk and out of his mind at a local bar, the whiskey still fresh on his tongue with rage bubbling in his core.

Just like every previous time, he ensued a fight for no reason. But this time, it was different because he had an admirer and more of a stalker.

Ezra Nakrosa, the director of the London Intelligence Agency. A man whose reputation preceded him and Harry’s mentor for the upcoming years.

He wasn’t actively pursuing him, but he kept his eyes on him after he managed to take down three men with alcohol in his system.

He watched him drink one glass after the other and scoffed to himself when he caused a fight. The last thing he expected was for Harry to outpower them all.

Since then, he watched him from afar, studied his file, and was even more interested upon finding out that he had no family.

The agency always preferred recruiting agents with little to no loved ones, for many obvious reasons and Ezra felt like he hit the jackpot.

That night, he watched Harry intently observing his moves and his body language, before approaching him after the bar owner kicked him out.

Again—he didn’t choose this path, it chose him.

Ezra didn’t even have the chance to speak because Harry was quick to confess that ‘he wasn’t dumb to not notice men stalking him’.

His agents were the best, so how did a man from a small town detect undercover agents?

He knew in that moment that he would work hard to recruit Harry, and ironically he didn’t have to ask twice.

From that day onwards, Harry climbed the ladder to the top with the help of his mentor. He found a purpose to live again, somewhere to cage his rage, and use his strategic thinking skills paired with his physical strength.

While most agents took time to adapt to the new environment, and around two years to be qualified as a field agent—Harry got his first mission in one year.

Not because Ezra secretly favored him compared to others, but because he managed to prove himself worthy, making the board demand his transfer to the field.

He was aware of the progress he made and with every milestone, his ego inflated a bit (and his biceps too).

He turned thirty-one recently, marking eleven years of being a skilled agent. Ezra’s retirement is approaching by the second and everyone is whispering rumors about Harry becoming the next chief director.

It’s a decision that hasn’t been discussed yet, but Ezra is aware that Harry will approve instantly because no one can do it like him. Besides, the agency is his entire life.

He has no loved ones and he dedicated years and hard work to the agency. He knows nothing else.

What could make Harry Styles so busy other than his position as a secret agent?

The agency is preparing for a major attack on a drug cartel, and Harry has been training everyone ruthlessly. The plan he devised was strategic and well-planned from A to Z. It can’t go wrong.

But for today, he allowed them some rest after some bargaining with the other trainer. So instead, he directed his focus towards other agents.

According to him, time can’t be wasted.

The room was filled with agents in every corner. Most of them were beginners while the others trained for their upcoming missions that weren’t as important as the drug cartel attack.

The smell of sweat and tiredness reeked from their exhausted but energetic bodies. Harry focused on strengthening their stamina because a weak one won’t benefit them in the field.

“Faster! A child can do better than you.” His voice echoed in the tight space as he stood in front of the lined agents on the ground.

Even his position whether he was sitting or standing declared his authority and sense of power. His arms were folded against his chest, showcasing his pumped biceps and his facial expression did not harbor any warm smile or softness. No one dared to look him in the eyes anyway.

“With a stamina like that, you’d be dead already!” His loud shouting wasn’t helping the poor beginner agents who cursed their luck that landed Harry as their trainer for the day.

Their current exercise was pushups. A basic one but effective in Harry’s opinion, but their exhaustion makes sense when he wants them to do 200 consecutive pushups without resting, and with sudden planks in between that don’t stop until he says so.

Harry may be a bit biased, but he fully believes that the other trainer (whom he doesn’t like) is being too soft with the newcomers. Something that shouldn’t happen.

He glanced at their worn-out faces and rolled his eyes before dismissing them.

“I’ll be discussing your weaknesses with Agent Ian. Go eat and rest but know that you shouldn’t be called agents for this shitshow.” He spat his criticism mercilessly uncaring for their feelings.

He watched them stumble out of the room, some of them limping as he remained in his place with the same posture of a leader.

Once everyone was out, his gaze drifted to the punching bag in the corner. He felt like it was calling for him despite the four-hour workout he did in the morning.

His thirst for combat or any type of martial arts could not be tamed. But upon gazing a bit too much at the punching bag, he remembered something he was supposed to do.

His legs immediately take action before his brain as he flees out of the room heading towards a private floor that is restricted for regular agents.

Only Harry, Ezra, high-ranking agents, and members of the board can access this floor. But for an unknown reason, Harry found himself giving Y/n access to his private gym.

There are many layers to things that shouldn’t happen but it seemed as if Harry didn’t care or was perhaps unaware of his actions.

Agents like Y/n shouldn’t be on this floor, but they also can’t be trained privately.

The first restriction is more important, but the second is rather for caution—to maintain a professional relationship between regular agents and higher rank ones.

All agents were trained in groups and if they needed to work on certain issues, their trainer would give them advice but not train them individually.

Harry doesn’t always train Y/n’s group but as of late, he noticed her lack of discipline and physical stamina when it comes to combat.

He knew that she wasn’t that weak which meant that she had been slacking off with training and that pissed him off.

So he ordered her to wait for him in room 309 at exactly two in the afternoon. His boots left an echo as he walked through the corridor with a confident stride. Yet, something kept poking at his brain allowing anxiety to settle in his stomach. He wasn’t entirely comfortable.

He pushed the door to the gym open, reaching his hand for the light switch. It was somewhat dim, obscuring Y/n from his view. She sat on the ground in a corner with her head tilted upwards. In the few seconds between moving her head and meeting his sharp eyes, he got to catch a glimpse of her in a calm state, almost unobserved. Even then, she looked obscenely beautiful.

“You’re late.” She gestured to the clock on the wall in a sarcastic tone that indicated his five-minute delay.

“No. You’re early.” He tried to hide his smirk before failing upon seeing the frown on her face.

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and supported her body using her hands to get up—something that caught Harry’s eye.

“You’re an agent. You shouldn’t act like a 70-year-old woman at a retirement home.” His tone could cut a vein open, but at this point, she kind of got familiar with it.

She avoided responding or looking him in the eye because one answer would drag the other and he would end up questioning her on her performance—and frankly, she doesn’t have a proper response for that.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t take it any further and instructs her to warm up for fifteen minutes in a corner.

She does so with exhaustion traveling through her veins. The only thing that helps her through it is the sight of his athletic body.

His shirt is still on but it perfectly outlines his biceps that he wraps around her body to manhandle her during sex—

She quickly shakes her head to rid herself of the sinful thoughts she’s having. But again—would it be so bad to crave something that happens every other day?

Their steamy encounters keep increasing behind closed doors, and he puts on his boss’s facade once they’re out. She’s not sure if she likes that or not, but either way, she doesn’t have a say in it.

Their relationship is strictly physical.

Even if her lips begged her to find his at random moments throughout the day, even if their naked bodies molded after sex, and even if she was awake when he kissed her temple.

“Okay, that’s it.” The expression on his face held ambiguous cues, but he refrained from saying anything.

She caught her breath as shame creeped up her face planting a rosy color on her cheeks. She walked over to him with her head hung low, and nails digging into her palm.

“I need you to do some boxing because your game is getting weak.” He sighed as disappointment reeked from his words, causing more redness to settle on her face.

He helped her wear the boxing gloves as he intently glanced at her worried expression.

The first ten minutes were okay. Some form of another warm-up in Harry’s opinion. He has seen her train many times before and by now she would have the bag swinging left and right.

It made him think back to her friendly match with another agent and how she got a hit to the stomach—if he hadn’t stopped it, other areas would have been affected as well.

Not to mention her stamina in recent training—Harry simply could not let her lose her strength out of everyone else.

“Focus harder.” His posture was a warning—an indication of his bubbling anger. His arms were crossed, giving more room for his biceps to rightfully appear.

His legs were parted as he stood motionless, simply burning Y/n’s shame with his piercing gaze. She could feel it. How he had something going on in his mind, aching to roll off his lips.

His jaw ticked while his eyes followed the movement of her hands in sync with the boxing bag. It was a disaster.

“You know who gives this fucking performance? A beginner.” His tone began to increase gradually.

She swallowed down her throat, trying to ignore his intimidating posture and body that could be warm at times and cold at others.

It wasn’t odd for him to be harsh and strict during training—except that he never spoke to her like this. Not even when she was snarky and replied at things that had nothing to do with her.

Superior agents were not allowed to train any lower-ranking agent privately, and she wasn’t an idiot to dismiss that rule. But why was he acting this way?

She punched harder gathering all the strength left in her muscles, for the bag to only move a bit farther. She almost lost her footing but kept going for him. She never wanted to disappoint him.

“A fucking shitshow.” He mumbled quietly under his breath—but she heard it, and it went straight through her heart like an arrow.

“For the love of god, you’re a skilled agent so act like one!” His shouting echoed through the room making her stop and glance at him.

He was visibly furious with a vein bulging from his neck. His hand was trembling and his breaths were laboured. She hasn’t seen him in such a state before, and she regrets that she just did.

No one wanted to be on the receiving end of his anger but especially not her.

Besides, underneath all the tough facade that she puts on and her bold replies, she’s very sensitive and completely vulnerable when it comes to him.

Getting shouted at and taking orders from superiors was just another day for agents, but Harry? She was fucking falling for him.

She sighed, gathering her pride before continuing to punch the bag, ignoring the signs her body was giving her to stop.

He observed her for a minute or two, with his eyes darting between her hands and the sway of the bag. He slid down to her legs, and how they were positioned and stationed.

He took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and shook his head in frustration. Did everything she learn evaporate in thin air?

“If you were in the field right now, you’d be fucking dead.” He began walking around her, throwing one sharp comment after the other.

“Are your legs paralyzed? Are you supposed to stand like that when fighting?! His shouting kept getting louder, pushing at her tear duct to open.

He suddenly punched the bag with his bare hand causing it to swing way farther, almost hitting the mirror facing them.

“Is it that hard, Y/n?” He gestured to the swinging bag.

“Where is your strength!” He was fucking fuming.

What would he do if she went on a mission with such weakness? What would happen to her if he wasn’t there?

He was too occupied with his fears to notice her frantically taking the gloves off with tears streaming down her extremely rosy cheeks.

“Y/n…” He tried to speak but her sobbing was louder than his words.

It was just another training. He has been way harsher before but this was his first time seeing her cry because of him. It was more painful than a bullet.

“J-just stop!” Her words were barely coherent with how hard she was crying. He stood in front of her unable to do or say anything.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She was never supposed to cry because of him and he shouldn’t have raised his voice this way.

The boxing gloves hit the ground as she hiccuped from sobbing. She picked up her bag from the ground and turned around to face him with red eyes and a broken expression.

“Leave me alone.” The loud thud of the door closing made him flinch. He still hasn’t moved an inch trying to grasp what he had done.

Being mean and strict was all he ever knew. He never toned it down for anyone and it didn’t reflect how he felt towards them. When it came to Y/n, it was more out of protection and fear of something happening to her. He wanted her to defend herself properly and be a skilled agent. He didn’t understand why she was slacking with training like that, missing some sessions, or letting other agents beat her.

She was an amazing agent and managed to reach the top ranks in a short period, just like him.

He lost himself while training her, but he shouldn’t have assumed that she could take all of that as a motivation. There’s no such thing as being gentle in the agency, and Y/n is one tough woman. Still, he didn’t speak to her like that before. If anything, she was the only agent he praised in his ten years of service.

Did that have to do with their secret meet-ups?

Whatever the reason, he fucked up. If someone made her cry, he wouldn’t let them see the light of the day again, and no he doesn’t know why he feels the need to protect her from everything or why he isn’t running after her this instant.

He’s a pretty shit communicator—that’s the only thing he knows.

“Harry.” Ezra snapped him out of his thoughts. He was standing in the doorway with a worried expression.

“In my office. Now.”

Harry was all too familiar with this office. He has been here a million times for the good and bad. The leather sofa he’s resting on is somewhat his signature sofa, no one else uses it but him.

His legs are spread and his left knee is bouncing as his fingers tap repeatedly on the edge of the sofa. His expression is serious as always and holds no room for bargaining. If you get close enough, you’d hear his blood boiling in his veins and the echo of Y/n’s cries repeating in his head.

“Harry.” Ezra cleared his throat, letting out an exhale before clasping his hands together.

He didn’t need to wait for Harry to turn around and acknowledge him, he had his body language memorized by heart. He instantly caught on and noticed his agitation and stress—something that he doesn’t exhibit regularly.

“I will not question you as to why an agent like Y/n had access to this restricted floor.” Ezra trusted her but if it were a different agent, he could not let it slide easily.

“What I will ask is—why did she run from here crying?” He wasn’t born yesterday. Harry’s bias toward her and his extra attention was easy to catch, especially when he had known him for a long period.

His question was met with silence and the tightening of Harry’s jaw. He kept observing him shamelessly wondering when was the last time he showed such distress over another human being.

“At least tell me why you were training her privately. You have never done that nor should you, but what’s so simple—“

“She’s getting weaker!” Harry slammed his hand on the mahogany desk, catching Ezra off guard and spilling some of his coffee.

“Low stamina and endurance, weak punches, wrong posture, and allowing others to win in matches.” His nostrils flared while his hand trembled from the pent-up anger. The tick of his jaw was unsettling and his brows furrowed with great agitation.

Ezra remained calm partly because he was familiar with Harry’s outbursts, but also because he was shocked by his response.

It would be hard to recall a decade of knowing someone, but if he’s not mistaken, Ezra has never witnessed Harry giving two fucks about someone other than his late mother, let alone an agent.

But damn it if it didn’t make sense.

“So what? Many agents slack sometimes.”

“Well, she’s not any agent. She’s smart, strong, and a skilled agent. Have you thought about what would happen to her in the field?!” His body language was less tense, but his defense grew stronger giving Ezra the final piece of the puzzle.

As the chief director of the agency, he’s slightly disappointed by Harry’s lack of professionalism, but as his mentor and nonbiological father figure, he’s happy for him.

He’s on the road to finding love and caring for someone else is a promising step to de-freeze his cold heart.

Ezra didn’t convey any form of emotion and sported a poker face. Harry looked as if he was still gathering evidence in his mind while simultaneously waiting for Ezra to say something.

“A while ago, Y/n asked for my help.” Harry’s expression changed completely.

“Wha—“

“Patience Son.” He warned, gesturing for him to relax a bit—which he did reluctantly.

“She wasn’t feeling well and told me that she wanted to get some tests done.” The words rolled off his lips smoothly as if he wasn’t casually telling him that something was wrong with her. If it weren’t for Ezra, Harry would be halfway through the door right now.

“The only obstacle was you.”

“Me?” Harry’s voice was rather timid this time—another surprise for Ezra.

“Yes. If she asked for the agency’s doctor to perform them, then you would have known one way or another. The reason she avoided telling you remained unknown to me—but I did help her to get them done.” Harry’s mouth went dry and he felt his vision getting blurry.

Y/n was not feeling fine, and he thought she was slacking.

He was frozen in his place, stuck to the sofa trying to comprehend what his mentor just said. His chest tightened and his heartbeats increased gradually.

“I—“

“The tests came back and the doctor I contacted said that it’s mild anemia. Nothing too scary, it’s treatable.” Ezra stopped right there after noticing the change of color on Harry’s face. He looked like he was about to faint.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He immediately passed him a water bottle and watched him take a few sips with furrowed brows.

What is up with this boy, Ezra thought.

“Do you need food—“

“She doesn’t have a history of anemia, where the fuck did it come from?” He returned to his normal angry self by posing more questions.

“The doctor said that mild anemia can develop suddenly—due to lifestyle practices of course but Harry it’s manageable.“ He could no longer tell his body language. Was he angry? sad? overwhelmed?

Harry stared at the wall, avoiding eye contact but continued his knee bouncing. He unconsciously began cracking his knuckles as Ezra’s presence was erased from his mind.

Only Y/n occupied his thoughts.

His little minx.

She was sick, refused to inform him and all he did was make it worse. His nails dug into the leather sofa, almost tearing off a piece with how hard he pressed.

He was a fucking idiot for not noticing her cues. What kind of sick bastard was he?

“Harry!” Ezra stood in front of him, snapping his fingers to coax him back from his dissociation.

He had a file in his hand that he threw in Harry’s lap. “These are her tests. Take them and fix what you have done son. I know that you hate apologizing—but sometimes it’s what you should do with certain people like Y/n.”

Harry was up on his feet in seconds heading towards the door with the file in his hand.

“And Harry?”

He waited for him to turn around before continuing.

“I know nothing about this.” A hint of a smile was painted across his face with some mischief.

Y/n was curled up on her couch under her fuzzy blanket with a half-eaten chocolate bar next to her. Her tears barely dried before another wave came through upon remembering what unfolded a few hours ago.

She glanced to the other side of the room where her beloved (and only) companion was staring.

“He’s a meanie TimTim.” She wiped her tears using her sleeves as her sniffling increased.

Unfortunately, her companion cannot comfort her verbally. TimTim is a penguin plushie that has been with her through everything. The nature of her job prevented her from adopting a pet—something that she wanted so badly. Her constant absence did not make her qualified to look after a small creature, but TimTim sufficed.

“…but he has a good dick… and a good heart sometimes.” She rolled her eyes at her stupidness. No matter how badly someone hurt her, she’d always find an excuse to justify their actions.

Her recent argument with Harry had many layers to it. To begin with, he wasn’t exactly a love-dovie type of person. His attitude toward her was slightly less bitchy compared to other agents—but she also drove him nuts by throwing back sassy replies and remarks.

He was the most stubborn and cold-blooded man she had ever met, not because he liked to do it for fun or out of sadist tendencies—it was just his character.

Discipline, Respect, Loyalty. Those were his most sacred traits. Most agents nowadays were weak according to him, so he found himself resorting to tougher training and a harsher approach.

Her eyes didn’t swell with tears because of his sharp words and anger. Frankly, she knew how he could turn into someone else during training, and rightfully so.

But validation from him mattered. If she placed her biased feelings aside, she would find that he was her favorite superior. He’s a talented agent with the right principles and morals. She looked up to him.

She never wanted to disappoint him, but she managed to.

The more she thought about it, the more tears flowed out of her tear duct. The fury and frustration that he expressed pained her, it was so different from his usual smirks that were followed by praises.

When she could no longer handle his disappointment, she broke down revealing all the ache that she had been carrying.

Letting him down was never on her agenda, but neither was getting sick. She began noticing her decrease in performance a while ago, along with fainting twice. She dismissed it thinking that she just needed more sleep or perhaps more days off.

But when the symptoms persisted, she knew something was off. Telling Harry was not an option, mostly because she didn’t know how he would react but it also felt like something that must be kept a secret from him, so she resorted to Ezra.

He hasn’t replied but she spotted him from her peripheral vision upon leaving earlier today, and her emotions were all over the place to give two fucks, which explains why she came to her apartment.

Usually field agents like her sleep at the agency and dedicate their time to the secret service. She was one among many who became orphans at a young age, and this made it easier for the agency to make them stay there instead of in apartments.

No loved ones always meant a safer life for people like them.

Still, Y/n liked the idea of having a designated space for her. If she was destined to be lonely, she might as well learn to enjoy it.

So despite not being allowed to leave without prior notice, she immediately found herself in her cozy flat munching on chocolate and ranting to TimTim as she hiccuped and sniffled repeatedly.

What confused her even more was his expression of regret upon seeing her cry. She was too upset to register it, but now that she let everything out and recalled what went down, she was certain that it wasn’t something usual of him.

His entire demeanour switched and he was confused whether to step forward or backward as he softly whispered her name.

Did he act the same way with other agents? Fuck no.

But does that mean that he regretted what he had done?

Maybe his eyes that tried to decode her feelings exposed him, or his hand that unconsciously moved forward towards her body—

Y/n covered her face with her hands and groaned loudly as if her thoughts would stop colliding. Everything was puzzling her more and more. Was he disappointed or not?

The loud banging on her door pulled her out of her tangled thoughts and vulnerable character.

She certainly wasn’t around enough to become besties with her neighbors or have friends to pop in for girls’ night.

Perhaps the agency sent someone to get her, but how would they know that she came here? Maybe they just tried their luck—

The banging got louder as if it was a warning. Whoever was outside, planned to come inside no matter what.

Y/n immediately switched into agent mode and grabbed a gun from the nearest drawer. Better be safe than sorry.

She walked slowly to the door with careful footsteps and high heartbeats. The door didn’t have a hole in it, so she’d either have to ask who was outside—or open the door.

But her guest beat her to it.

“Y/n…open the door.” Harry’s voice made her take a step back. The fresh tear stains on her cheeks burned upon hearing his words. What brought him here?

Hell, a serial killer would’ve been less surprising.

“No.” She lowered her gun and relaxed her shoulders a bit. More tears threatened to fall as she slowly turned around toward the couch.

He hasn’t been to her apartment before which means that he had some fun with her record. He’s most likely here to drive her back to the agency where she’ll receive a warning for leaving—what else could be here for?

“Y/n… I can pick the lock, break the door, or you can just let me in.” He huffed in annoyance at her stubbornness. She might as well turn on the TV to ignore him.

They both knew that he wasn’t joking. He could break in if he wanted, but Y/n was too busy trying to understand why he came here.

“Listen, I know about the lab tests.” Y/n’s eyes widened in shock. Damn it, Ezra.

So this is what he’s here for. A double warning. One for leaving and one for not informing him of her sickness.

She was near the door in two seconds, unlocking it and facing him despite her messy look and tired teary face.

“Since when—“ She meant to stay focused. She really did. But as usual, he found a way to make her forget about her anger.

He was dressed normally. It was odd to see him in something outside of his work attire, even if it was a simple hoodie with matching joggers. He looked cozy.

But what made her jaw drop was the fresh bouquet of yellow tulips in his right hand.

He got her flowers?

He cleared his throat making her realize how shocked she looked, and he didn’t blame her. She was the first woman he bought flowers for, ever.

The sight of her swollen eye and dried tears made him tighten his grip on the bouquet. A sight that will never leave his mind.

“I—“ She tried to let out something but she failed and moved aside for him to enter.

“Why the tulips?” She stood with her arms crossed trying to decipher what was going on.

“You like them.” His answer was short and clear but it held more meaning. She doesn’t recall letting him in on her favorite flowers—

“I overheard you telling Tania.” He shrugged as if it was not a big deal to eavesdrop on other agents and then memorize Y/n’s favorite flower.

He scanned the apartment with his eyes carefully—a habit of his for safety. It was more out of curiosity as if it would whisper to him secrets about Y/n.

“Why are you here?” Her voice seemed timid and broken.

He ignored her query and continued scanning his surroundings for a hint of her personality.

“Chocolate…?” He furrowed his eyebrows at her but it was hard to focus or look her in the eye without noticing her puffy face.

“Here to lecture me?” She scoffed, walking past him to the safe corner she made on her couch.

She covered herself and returned to her previous position as if her superior at work was not standing before her—with her favorite flowers still in his hand.

What the fuck is up with the flowers, she thought.

“If you want to stand there and give your lecture, then be my guest.” She mumbled coldly without blinking once. The coziness from the soft blanket slowly came back, but Harry’s cold stare fought it.

The last thing she expected him to do was sit next to her and rest his hands on her legs. She had a billion questions swimming in her head and she bit her tongue to not ramble and ask what the fuck was going on.

“I’m Sorry.” It rolled off his lips so easily, but her ears couldn’t process it. She stayed silent and did not move an inch as she stared ahead, ignoring his warm touch.

If she can’t understand anything, she’ll just listen and observe cluelessly.

“I had no idea that you were sick— I wouldn’t have pushed you this much if I did. But still, that’s not an excuse. I shouldn’t push you at all.” His words were direct and his voice was unshakeable. He was fully confident of what he was saying, with no shame.

She swallowed down her throat, fighting the tears threatening to fall down her face.

“I spoke with Ezra…and he gave me your tests. A doctor reviewed them and said it’s mild anemia.” The tears fell silently on her face disobeying her. Harry stopped speaking as if he felt her sadness.

“Could you get up a bit? Hmm?” He rubbed soothing circles on her skin and waited patiently for her answer.

She slowly lifted herself despite her reluctance, but still refused to look him in the eye. He can see her tears falling from the side and it makes him want to punch a wall.

“Attagirl. Look at me please.” He stroked her cheek softly with his knuckles.

She slowly turned her face in his direction as his hand reached out to wipe her tears.

“You’re pretty when you cry, but I don’t like it.” He whispered with his voice being barely audible. His eyes were fixated on her gorgeous lashes that she batted at him. How did she exist like an angel so casually?

“Yeah well, it was you who made me cry.” She mumbled like a child, crossing her arms at her chest.

“I’m a dickhead.” He laughed at the cute face she made with his hand still wiping any new tears that fall.

He’ll be damned if he’ll let her cry again.

“I know.” She rolled her eyes and reached out for the file next to him.

“Y/n—“

“What did the doctor say?”

“Like I said, it’s mild anemia. But nothing too dangerous. I got you the supplement he prescribed.” Harry gestured to the bottle placed near the flowers.

“And you missy will have your diet monitored by me. I want you eating iron-filled foods—“ He barely completely his sentence before Y/n was groaning loudly and slumping backward on the couch.

“Get up. Don’t make me tickle you.” He warned and she lifted herself within seconds with a pout on her face.

“Now the question is… why were you ignoring your needs?” It was the only question that she wished he wouldn’t ask. But nothing can stop him from knowing what he wants.

She stared at TimTim despite his piercing gaze on her hoping that the plushie could rescue her somehow.

“I wasn’t ignoring them, I guess I simply didn’t realize.” She swallowed down her throat, avoiding eye contact.

“You didn’t want to tell me.” He pressed further. His tone was soft but impatient—he’d beg on his knees if he had to.

“I—“ She focused her gaze on TimTim again causing Harry to turn his head around for a look.

“A plushie?” He scrunched his face in shock.

“So?” She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms against her chest. She seemed ready to punch him if he made fun of her.

“No comment.” He raised his hands in the air letting out a soft smile. It was a rare sight, but a beautiful one. She liked seeing him smile as his dimples popped up on his soft face.

“Don’t run away from the question though.” He whispered with his eyes begging her for the truth.

Her tears had dried but her face was still puffy and her eyes were swollen. There weren’t any tears to wipe but that didn’t stop Harry from reaching out his hand to caress her cheeks.

His warm touch was weird to decipher, it seemed able to burn her at times, just like his words.

“I didn’t want to disappoint you.” She blurted out suddenly before inhaling sharply in shock as if her mouth betrayed her without permission.

Harry’s facial expression shifted from softness to something she couldn’t decode—but the pain was recognizable.

She lowered her gaze as her cheeks became flushed with embarrassment. His hand slowly inched away from her skin, feeling unworthy of touching her.

“You could never disappoint me.” He whispered it like a promise. A sacred one. He couldn’t believe that she would think like that even for a second.

He was so fucking proud of her. He pushed her earlier today but he was lenient with her before. A bullet wound would’ve been better to take than her confession.

She mattered to him whether he was aware or not but the clutch in his chest must’ve given him a hint.

“Look at me, please.”

She lifted her chin reluctantly and looked him in the eye. This was her first time seeing him this vulnerable—it was so easy to read his eyes.

“There’s no way you could disappoint me. Ever.”

“I slacked in performance—“

“Fuck that. You need rest.” He shook his head, denying all the false thoughts she had.

“What I did earlier was a mistake and it won’t happen again.” It was more of a vow than a promise.

Silence filled the apartment after his last sentence. They shamelessly stared into each other’s eyes despite the intrusion of TimTim. Harry knew that if he didn’t do or say something—he’d have his lips on her in mere seconds.

“I should get going.” He cleared his throat and stood up.

Y/n was still going through a rollercoaster of emotions. She ached to ask him something back, it was fair to do so. But instead, she decided to let him go.

“Also…” He fetched a paper out of his hand and left it on her couch. “You’re allowed a week of rest. That means no training, no gym, and you can stay here.”

Surprise was prominent on her face. She opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to it.

“No objections. I need you to rest.” She’s not sure if this was allowed—if the board knew about the leave he granted her. It seemed to pile up amongst many of the other things she wondered about.

“Okay…” She balanced herself on her feet and walked him to the door.

“This doesn’t mean I’m done being mad at you.” She mumbled sarcastically.

“Good. I like it when you’re bratty.” He winked at her as he opened the door.

She watched him walk away before turning around and looking at her.

“Oh and Y/n? I’ll have a customized meal plan delivered to your house. For fuck’s sake don’t live off chocolate.”

“But—“

“No buts and take your supplement.” His voice echoed in the building as he descended the stairs.

She stood motionless at the door with her arms folded against her chest as she scrunched her face and rolled her eyes at his bossy orders.

“Don’t roll your eyes missy.” His voice was distant signaling that he reached the ground floor. She slammed the door shut in response, unable to contain the smile that crept up on her face.

She didn’t lie to TimTim—he does have a good heart sometimes, but discipline remains cherished.

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munson-blurbs · 8 months

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

Summary: Your weekend getaway to Indianapolis comes with a boyfriend who's trying to quit smoking, a five-year-old who has difficulty acclimating to new routines, and your own insecurities about your mothering abilities. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: angst, insecurities about motherhood, lost child, Eddie gets mad at us, discussion of menstrual period/PMS

WC: 7.7k A/N: There is a moment where someone refers to us as Harris's mom; however, she doesn't see us. There is no indication that we resemble Harris in any way.

Chapter 16/20

Divider credit to @saradika Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsonsmum

The morning dew still kisses the grass when you arrive at the Munson apartment, hauling your duffel bag up to their half-packed car. Eddie’s leaning into the backseat, only his jean-clad legs visible from your vantage point. Harris stands behind him, watching his dad’s every move earnestly and intently. If you had a camera on you, you’d take a photo of this Kodak moment.

“Hi, boys!” you chirp as enthusiastically, tucking your lips into your mouth to stop yourself from laughing when Eddie bangs his head on the roof of the car. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah, ‘m good,” he mutters, rubbing at his scalp with one hand, expression somewhere between a grimace and a smile.”Morning, Sweetheart. You sleep well?”

You nod, opening your arms as Harris races towards you for a hug. “What about you guys? Or were you too excited about our super-fun weekend?”

“Daddy snored!” Harris reports with a grin, overjoyed to share what he perceives to be a juicy morsel of gossip.

Eddie gasps in mock-offense, reaching out to take your bag and arranging it amongst his and Harris’s in the trunk. “I did not!”

“Did too!” Harris retorts, turning back to you and adding, “like, so loud!”

You crouch down, and hold a pinky out in front of him. “We’re gonna have to stick together this weekend if we’re going to survive,” returning his smile when he wraps his little finger around yours in a promise.

“Can’t believe my girlfriend is conspiring against me with my own flesh and blood,” Eddie grumbles, eyes widening when he realizes what he’s said; rather, in front of whom he’s said it. His panicked gaze meets yours, and you both anticipate some reaction from Harris, but he’s fortunately unfazed and too fixated on the utter silliness of his dad’s snoring. Eddie clears his throat, determined to change the subject before his son catches on. “I think we’re ready to ship out,” he offers, slamming the trunk shut and pressing down to double-check that it’s closed.

“Snacks?” you ask, running through a mental checklist of necessities.

Eddie holds up a family-size bag of pretzels. “Got ‘em.”

“Water?”

“Backseat,” he points to the floor to the left of Harris’s booster seat–a recent upgrade from his carseat. “Harris will be in charge of that, right, Har?”

“Right!” Harris confirms with a thumbs-up.

“Sounds good. Put him to work,” you tease. Eddie’s heart skips a beat at the playful relationship that you and his son have, swapping smiles and making each other laugh. “Music?”

Eddie juts his chin towards the center console, filled to the brim with cassettes. “Always.”

You cock your eyebrow knowingly before posing your next question, preparing yourself for some visceral response. “Nicotine gum?”

Eddie groans, patting the pack of Nicorette in his pocket. “Unfortunately, yes.” About a week and a half ago, Harris had come home from school crying after the school had put on an assembly about the dangers of smoking. Eddie had been meaning to quit for a long time, but his son worrying over real problems, using words like cancer and heart attack, was what finally pushed him to chuck every pack of cigarettes he owned into the trash.

“Okay,” you smile and clap your hands together, “I think we’re good to go!” You help Harris buckle his seatbelt before climbing into the passenger seat.

The sedan rumbles to life, catching on the second key turn and disrupting the otherwise still morning. “Gentlemen, start your engines!” Eddie roars in an exaggeratedly deep voice, and Harris giggles from the backseat. With Eddie’s hand on the gearshift, you seize the opportunity to squeeze it, light pink tickling his cheeks at your touch.

It’s only thirty minutes into the drive before it starts.

“Daddy, I gotta pee!”

You can practically feel the patience leaving Eddie’s body, fingers tightly gripping the wheel until his knuckles flush white.

“Har Bear, we just hit the road,” he tries, knowing his efforts are fruitless. “Can you hold it?”

“No, it’s a ‘mergency!”

“Fuck,” Eddie swears under his breath. The likelihood of it actually being an emergency is slim to none, but he’s in no mood to risk it. “All right, I’ll pull over at the next rest stop, ‘kay?”

Eddie takes the next exit, parking at a truck stop and nearly falling out of the car in his scramble to get Harris to the bathroom. “C’mon, c’mon,” he mutters, walking so quickly that Harris nearly trips over his own feet. You quicken your own pace just to keep up with them.

The scent of coffee grabs your attention as soon as you walk in the door, and you make a beeline for the tiny Dunkin Donuts tucked in the corner. The cashier looks as though they could use a shot or two of espresso, eyelids closing under their visor as you give your order. When the boys get back from the bathroom, you present Eddie with a large coffee with far more milk and sugar than your own, and hand a chocolate donut to Harris.

Eddie's eyes shift back and forth from the donut to you before he speaks. “It’s, like, 9 am,” he points out. “He’s gonna be bouncing off the walls if he eats that now.”

Oh. Obviously. What were you thinking, giving an already-hyperactive child pure sugar in the morning? All of the times you’d cringed when parents had sent their kids into school with Cocoa Puffs or some equally sugary cereal, and you’d given his son a chocolate donut for breakfast. “I’m sorry,” you sputter, shaking your head in frustration. “I should’ve asked you first, or saved it for later.”

“‘S fine,” he mutters, heaving an exasperated sigh as Harris takes a giant bite of donut. “At least there’s two of us to chase after him,” he adds with a weak smile.

Harris has devoured nearly the entire donut by the time Eddie’s buckling him back in, chocolate crumbs tucked into the crevices of his mouth. He’s oblivious to your faux pas, and you’d like to keep it that way.

“I really am sorry,” you say again, guilt gnawing in your stomach. “I should’ve known better; I guess I just got excited about our little vacation together.”

Eddie’s grin is more genuine this time. “Me, too, baby.” He sneaks a quick kiss to your cheek when Harris is focused on what remains of his snack. “The whole no-smoking thing has me extra bitter, y’know?”

You know. You definitely know, but you’re not about to point out all of the ways he’s been short-tempered lately. Instead, you relax into your seat and try to brush off your mistake as Eddie turns on the radio and guitar riffs replace the silence.

Eddie rolls down the window as the springtime sun warms the air, and you stretch as the rush of wind cools your body. His curls whip around the base of his neck, dancing in the breeze, and you can’t help but push them out of his face haphazardly.

Your stomach growls, and you’re grateful for the blaring music masking the embarrassingly loud noise. You’d forgotten to grab something for breakfast in your rush to leave your apartment, and coffee is a poor substitute for the most important meal of the day.

You reach down to the bag of pretzels nestled against your feet. “Y’want?” you ask Eddie, who nods and opens his mouth for you to feed it to him while he concentrates on the road. Laughter bubbles up from within you as he takes one from your hand by pinching it between his teeth.

Harris giggles, too. “Daddy, you look like a goat from the zoo!”

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie slides the snack into his mouth and bites down with a crunch, “and what sounds do goats make?”

“Hmm,” Harris ponders this for a moment before bleating a resounding, “maaaah!”

You swivel in your seat to give him a high-five. There’s donut residue on your hand when you pull back. “Smarty pants! I bet you know every animal sound there is.”

You and Eddie rattle off different species as you feed him more pretzels. Harris manages perfect impressions of each, until you call out, “sloth!” and effectively stump him.

“Ms. Sweetheart!” he cackles maniacally, partially because of his sugar rush, you’re sure, “that is so silly!”

“Y’just gotta do everything suuuuper slooooow.” You drag out the last two words to emphasize your point. “Like this: Haaaaarrisssss…caaaaan…youuuuu…haaaaand…meeeeee…aaaaa…waaaaterrrr?” This brings on a fresh round of giggles from the backseat; even extra-bitter Eddie manages a hint of a smile.

Harris grabs a bottle at a snail’s–no, a sloth’s–pace. “Heeere…youuuuu…goooooo!” His pace is far from hurried, and you feel the gentle tap of the plastic cap against your shoulder blade a full thirty seconds later.

“Thaaaaank…youuuuu!” You crack open the bottle of water and take a swig, quenching a thirst only made worse by the salty snack. “Wanna play again? See how many other animal sounds you can do?” you ask, grateful to have found a way to keep him occupied. Before you can close the bottle, Eddie reaches over and snags it, lifting it to his lips.

“Daddy, no!” Harris screeches from the backseat, little hand shooting out in protest, causing Eddie to slam on the brake. Water sloshes over the top of the bottle and onto his pants.

“Shit—what, Har?” he snaps, shoving the now half-empty bottle into the cupholder. He swipes haphazardly at the wet patch on his thigh, darkening the denim as it spreads along the fabric. He gives up with a mumbled, “whatever,” when he realizes he’s only rubbing it in more.

“You’re gonna get her germs,” Harris points out matter-of-factly.

Eddie huffs out a terse chuckle, slightly amused but still irritated. “Yeah, yeah, right,” he mutters, and you take that as a sign to reach back and get him his own bottle.

The remainder of the drive is uneventful, though Eddie has to dip into his Nicorette stash when a maroon Toyota Corolla weaves in and out of lanes at lightning speed and cuts him off. He instinctively reaches for the pack of cigarettes he’d always kept in the console, groaning when he remembers that it’s long gone.

“Good job, baby,” you murmur softly, giving his knee a quick squeeze in approval as he pops a piece of gum into his mouth. “‘M proud of you.”

You pull up to the hotel just after 10 AM, the morning chill has dissipated as the sun’s rays warm the air. The fair weather made the trip smoother, a small miracle if you’d ever seen one. Truthfully, you don’t think Eddie’s frayed nerves can handle a rainy day.

Eddie takes Harris’s hand as you all walk through the parking lot and up to the front desk. A middle-aged concierge greets you, the customer service smile plastered across his face faltering when he clocks Eddie’s ripped jeans and disheveled wind-blown hair.

“Reservation’s under ‘Munson,’” Eddie says to him, not making eye contact; your heart is a sinking stone when you realize that he also noticed the man’s shifting expression. “I called ahead and they said we could check in early.”

The concierge nods. You catch a glimpse of his shiny silver name tag, proudly proclaiming “STU, ASSISTANT MANAGER” gleaming in the overhead fluorescent lighting. “Room 325,” he grunts, handing you and Eddie keys dangling from matching logo-branded chains. Elation is a sunflower blooming in your chest; your first vacation has officially begun. Maybe it’s a little getaway only ninety minutes from home, but it’s a new adventure that you’re taking together.

Eddie flings his and Harris’s shared bag, then yours, onto one of the queen beds with a groan. “We made it!” he announces, flinging an arm over your shoulder. The pads of his fingers brush your upper arm, a tissue-paper light touch that has you soaring.

“Daddy? I gotta pee again,” Harris’s urgency breaks the moment. He’s hopping from one foot to the other, a potty dance if you’ve ever seen one.

“Go for it,” Eddie says, pointing towards the bathroom. He shakes his head when his son sprints the short distance.

Once the door closes, Eddie’s hands are on your hips, tugging you so close that your stomachs touch, your breasts pressed to his chest. His mouth immediately swoops down to your neck, nipping gently at the flesh along your collarbone.

“Hello there,” you manage to speak through a laugh. You’re unable to say more, as he’s pressing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss so fervently that your teeth nearly click together.

“Hi,” he breathes once he’s pulled back, brushing the tip of his nose against your own. “Sorry, y’just look really pretty.”

You wrinkle your nose in confusion. “I’m wearing sweatpants. I don’t even have makeup on.” Truthfully, you’d meant to at least swipe on some mascara, but you were preoccupied making sure that you’d packed everything you needed for the weekend.

“Don’t care,” Eddie mumbles, leaning in for another kiss, “still s’fuckin’ pretty. Don’t know how I’m gonna keep my hands off of you.”

The solution to that problem comes in the form of a flushing toilet and Harris calling out, “I’m done! Gonna wash my hands!”

Eddie throws his head back in frustration before burying his pink-tinged face in his hands. “This, uh, was not exactly how I imagined our first time in a hotel together,” he admits.

“At least he’s washing his hands,” you joke, trying to ward off the throbbing need building in your core. It fails miserably. You want him, need him, to relieve the ache in the way that only he can. You yearn for the way his fingertips dance across your skin, eagerly reaching under your shirt or dipping below your waistband, desperate to make his girl feel good.

The two of you break apart as the bathroom door swings open. You fly across the room and pretend like you’re rifling through your duffel bag while Eddie flops onto the bed. His shirt rides up slightly as he lays down, and you have to fight the urge to bite the exposed sliver of tummy.

“When are we going to the market?” Harris asks, catapulting himself onto the bed and landing next to his dad.

Eddie rolls over and checks the digital alarm clock between the two queen beds. “Doesn’t start for another few hours,” he says. “I was gonna try and take a quick nap before we—”

“I’m not tired!” Harris whines, and you can see in Eddie’s deflated, tense physicality that his already thin patience is wearing down further. “I wanna go now!”

“Hey, Har Bear,” you try, hoping you’re not inserting yourself into the dynamic too forcefully, “why don’t we go on an adventure while Daddy sleeps? We can wake him up when we get back.”

Harris hops down onto the floor and readily slips his hand into yours. “Bye, Daddy!” he calls out, dragging you towards the door. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart are having a ‘venture!”

Eddie gives you a weary but grateful smile as he scoots upwards to rest his head on the overstuffed pillow. “Godspeed,” he mumbles into the sheets, already beginning to doze off as he speaks.

The elevator dings and you shuffle into the small space, reaching for the “L” button to bring you down to the lobby.

“I wanna push the button!” Harris laments, and his sudden shriek has you instinctively pulling your hand back before regaining your composure.

Do you correct him? Let him press the button despite raising his voice? Deciding a consequence comes naturally to you in the classroom, but the anxiety of making the wrong choice serves as a massive roadblock. “You have to ask nicely if you want to push the button,” you offer, sending up a silent prayer that this staves off an impending tantrum.

He pouts for a moment before relenting. “Can I push the button?” It’s more grumble than request, but you accept it anyway.

His hand remains tucked safely into yours when you leave the hotel, basking in warm weather. You breathe in for three, breathe out for three. Okay. You can do this. Your job revolves around children; you can survive an afternoon taking care of just one.

Except that one happens to be your boyfriend’s son, and if you mess this up, it could ruin both Munsons’ perceptions of you.

“Where’re we going?” Harris asks, and you realize that you have no earthly idea; to be honest, you’re surprised that he so readily agreed.

”We can go for a walk?” you suggest, pasting on a smile in feigned confidence. “Maybe we can find a playground or something?”

“Okay!” he chirps. He’s fast for someone with little legs, and you have to remind him multiple times to use his walking feet. Yeah, this kid needs to burn off some energy, stat.

To your relief, there’s a playground just a few blocks away, fully equipped with a swing set and a jungle gym. Harris races across the grassy field onto the wood chip-covered area, assessing the space to figure out what he wants to conquer first.

You sit on the bench next to a woman who simultaneously reads a James Patterson novel and keeps an eye on the jungle gym, where a little girl is dangling from the monkey bars, putting one hand in front of the other.

She looks over with a sympathetic smile when you breathe out a long sigh, sinking into the wooden back like a weight has been removed from your shoulders.

“I hear that,” she says with a kind chuckle. “Mine will be tired for about…hmm, five minutes? Just long enough to get her home, and then she’ll be hopping around like the Energizer Bunny.” She shakes her head. “Is yours the same way?”

Yours. The term is peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth, and it takes a beat too long for you to respond. “Y-Yeah, I’m pretty sure he would sleep run if he could.” The stranger laughs at your joke, and you relax a bit. “Sorry, he’s really my boyfriend’s son, and it’s kind of…new to think of him as being mine, too.”

You expect her to pick up and move to a different bench, away from the weird woman who’s baring her soul on the playground, but she just closes her book and turns to you. “Carly is technically my stepdaughter,” she explains in a hushed tone, “but her mom’s not in the picture so, for all intents and purposes, she’s my daughter. No ‘step’ necessary.”

“Is…is it hard?” you ask, the question spilling from your lips in a desperate plea for answers. “Being a stepmom?”

She nods. “Oh, absolutely.” She brushes a strand of hair from her eyes, and you can see a sparkle behind them. “But, trust me, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

Her words, spoken freely of judgment and purely with empathy, alleviate the nervousness burning through you. “Thank you,” you murmur, gratitude forming a lump in your throat that you struggle to swallow.

“Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris shouts from the top of the jungle gym. “Look what I can do!” He hesitates for a moment before reaching out his arms and grabbing onto the metal pole. You stand up to call out a preemptive warning, to get to him before he can fall, but before you can, his chubby hands grip the pole. He hooks his legs around it and slides down expertly, not letting go until his sneakers are firmly planted on the wood chips scattered across the ground.

Pride warms your heart when his eyes lock with yours, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly as he awaits your approval. Anticipation reverberates within his little body, and before you can get in a word edgewise, he’s jumping up and down with an excited, “didja see me?”

“You’re amazing!” Your praise floats through the air and envelops him like a long-awaited embrace. “Super brave, too. I don’t think I could do that.”

He furrows his brows before a knowing smile forms on his lips. “Yes, you can! I’ll show you.”

Kind of walked right into that one, you lightly chastise yourself, but you dutifully shuffle towards where he’s already darting up the steps on all fours, hands splayed out for balance.

“C’mon, Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris cheers, waving his fists in the air in earnest, and you simply cannot let the boy down. He easily glides down once more, big brown eyes looking up at you from the ground. “Just like that, see?”

“Right, got it.” You give him a thumbs-up and emulate his movements, holding on tightly to the metal pole and sliding down. You grimace as it squeaks under your grasp, nails on a chalkboard, but your feet reach the ground soon enough.

Harris flings his arms around you, chin digging into your thigh as he gazes up in adoration. “I told you you could do it! Y’just had to try!” His admiration is fleeting; he soon spots another child leap from the swingset to play elsewhere. “Can you push me on the swings?” he pleads, already leading you to the equipment. “I just need a little help getting started, but then ‘m good.”

You hold the chain links dangling from the top of the structure, allowing Harris to maneuver himself onto the rubber seat. He scoots back so his bottom is fully supported and announces, “‘m ready!”

“Hold on tight,” you remind him, more out of routine than necessity, as you pull back the rust-covered chains. You move as far back as you can, double-checking that he hasn’t let go, and release the swing. His squealing giggles are music to your ears, and you push him a few more times before he’s able to take over independently.

His mop of curls defies gravity as he sails back and forth, pumping his legs to gain height. “Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Do you love my daddy?”

You ponder the thought for a moment. You know exactly how you feel about Eddie; he simultaneously kicks up the butterflies in your stomach and calms every buzzing nerve in your body with just a smile, but you’re unsure how much he wants to tell Harris. You settle on the truth, direct and simple: “yeah, I do love him.”

Harris wastes no time asking a follow-up question. “A lot or a little?”

“A lot,” you answer quickly, realizing the magnitude of your enamoration as you say it aloud. The way Eddie’s kisses wrap you in an armor of safety; you hope your kisses have the same effect on him. “Definitely a lot.”

He hums his acknowledgement. “Grampa Wayne says Daddy loves you a lot, too, but I can’t ask you to be my mommy yet.”

You freeze in place so suddenly that the swing’s momentum nearly knocks you down; you step out of the way just before his sneaker-clad feet can make contact with your torso. “You want me to be your mommy?” you repeat dumbly, still half-convinced that you heard him incorrectly.

“Mhm,” Harris confirms, “but Grampa says that being a mommy is a big ‘sponsibility, and I gotta be patient. That means I gotta wait until Daddy says it’s okay to ask you,” he elaborates matter-of-factly.

This is clearly something they’ve talked about, extensively enough that Harris knows that he shouldn’t say anything about it. You’re temporarily rendered speechless, words failing you as you search for an appropriate response. Do you thank him? Act like you hadn’t heard him? Hope that a sinkhole opens up in the middle of the playground and swallows you whole?

“Th-That’s great, Har,” you manage, shoulders suddenly heavy with the weight of his statement. He goes back to focusing on pumping his legs, leaving you to tend to the anxiety gnawing at your insides.

Motherhood–the term stepmother seems arbitrary, given that Harris’s biological mother has all but dropped off of the face of the Earth–is a terrifying prospect. Any time you try to explain your fears, people just shrug them off, claiming that you’d be a ‘natural,’ that your years of teaching would ultimately ‘pay off’ when you had children of your own. As if teaching and parenting were remotely the same.

To you, the differences are as clear as day. When you’re a parent, there’s no ‘clocking out.’ Your obligations don’t begin at 9 AM and end at 2 PM; they’re twenty-four hours, seven days a week. It’s not the same thing. Not even close.

Before you became a teacher, you had to go to school and take education courses. Read your textbooks cover to cover. Had to do an internship for a semester. You’d had ample opportunities to determine whether or not it was the right job for you. Motherhood doesn’t offer that luxury: you don’t know if you’ll be a good mom until you’ve already chosen to become one.

“Ms. Sweetheart?” You jump out of your skin when you realize that Harris is slowing himself down, scuffed Reeboks scraping against the ground as he comes to a stop. “Can I get ice cream?”

You bite back a laugh. “You just had a donut, silly boy,” you remind him with a gentle ruffle to his curls, trying to keep your tone breezy, “but we can grab some sandwiches. Maybe even get one for Daddy, too?”

His lower lip quivers, making your heart lurch. “B-But–”

“And,” you interject, “we can go out for ice cream after the market. With Daddy.” You hope it’s a promise you can keep.

It was too good to be true. Deep down, you knew it, despite the fleeting victory of getting Harris to eat an actual lunch. His hands were sticky with peanut butter and jelly–you were making a mental note to reassure Eddie that, yes, some had gotten in his mouth–when you’d done the unthinkable. The unimaginable.

You hadn’t let him press the elevator button.

He howls and sinks down to the floor, knees slamming into the linoleum tile and making him scream even louder.

“Buddy, you’ve got peanut–”

“I wanted to press…the…BUTTON!” he shrieks, every minor inconvenience he’s encountered today culminating in what you can only dub the Tantrum of the Decade. The crash from the sugar rush, not going to the market when he wanted to, the lack of ice cream are represented in every fat tear rolling down his reddening cheeks, in every flail of his legs as you try to scoop him up and bring him into the elevator, in every heaving breath. He’s overtired, overwhelmed, and out of his normal routine.

Your own eyes get misty as the metal door slides shut, enclosing you in a small space that seems to shrink with each wail. The kid has the lung capacity of an Olympic swimmer, while you’re drowning in your own pity.

He’s still sobbing when you reach the third floor, and Eddie’s flying out of the room as soon as he hears the sound of his son crying. Curls disheveled from his nap, crust still at the corners of his eyes. I woke him up, you realize. Another nail in the coffin.

“Wh-What happened?” His voice is raised, not in accusation, but just to be heard over Harris yelling. “Did he get hurt?” He takes Harris from your arms, clutching him to his chest in sheer panic. Reflexively, he inspects his boy’s head, arms, and legs for bruising and blood.

You shake your head, afraid that any attempt to speak will have your voice fracturing into pieces, no better than the little boy’s meltdown.

Fortunately, Harris has no problem filling his dad in. “I–wanted–to push–the button–and–she–said–NO!!!” Each word is punctuated with a hitched breath and is angrier than the last.

Eddie looks at you, more puzzled than worried now that he knows his son is unharmed, and a visit to the emergency room is unnecessary.

“His hands were sticky from his sandwich,” you mutter, unable to make eye contact with either Munson. “Oh, um, this is yours,” you add robotically, handing him the bag containing his hoagie, now a darker shade of brown from the grease it’s soaked up. You wince at how stilted you sound, simply going through the motions, not at all like the enthusiastic presentation you’d planned on the walk back to the hotel.

“Thanks.” Not unappreciative, but far from enthusiastic, and you can’t blame him. “Let’s just, uh, let’s just get him in the room.”

The sleepiness consumes Harris after a few more arduous minutes in his dad’s embrace. Eddie rubs circles on his back to calm him down, tiny shh sounds passing through his teeth. Harris begins to catch his breath; hiccups like aftershocks ricochet in his chest, gradually subsiding into soft snores.

“Jesus,” Eddie whispers as he gingerly places him onto the unmade bed, still warm from where he was lying just moments earlier, “that was one hell of a wake-up call.”

You speak at the same volume as him, though you don’t even have to try. Shame buries your voice deep in your diaphragm. “I’m so sorry.” Your right incisor digs into your lower lip as emotion ravishes you. The absence of Harris’s tantruming creates a loud silence that neither of you have the energy to fill.

“I could say the same to you,” Eddie says with a soft chuckle, taking your hand and squeezing it tight as he sits down on your bed. “His meltdowns are no joke.”

“I should’ve just let him press the damn button.” You’re only half-serious, but your stomach sinks when Eddie says nothing; instead, he carefully unwraps the sandwich and takes a bite. A glob of mustard lands on the parchment paper with a soft plop.

He doesn’t disagree. You made a mistake—two mistakes, if you’re counting the donut fiasco—and Eddie saw it. Saw that you’d failed.

“Did you get enough rest?” It’s a feeble attempt to change the subject, and you both know it, but you go for it anyway.

He lets his knee knock into yours. “Never enough, Sweetheart,” he says with a smile, wiping his lips with the flimsy deli napkin. “But, yeah, I got some sleep.” He leans in and murmurs in your ear, “Would’ve been better with you next to me, though.”

You turn so that your nose brushes his. “If I was laying next to you, you wouldn’t be able to sleep,” you quip, stifling your laughter when he takes your cheeks in his hands and smacks a kiss to your lips.

“I would be a perfect gentleman.” He stretches and exposes the happy trail below his navel. “My eyes are up here,” he teases, catching you checking him out. “And you were worried about me.”

The dynamic shifts back to playful and lighthearted, his joke chipping away at the tension that’s been weighing you down.

“Shut up and eat your sandwich, Munson.”

“Yes, dear.”

You’ve showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes, jeans replacing the ratty sweatpants you’d donned earlier. You’d tried to wash the day’s stress down the drain along with the eucalyptus-scented soap suds, and though you don’t feel completely recharged, you’re ready enough to tackle the market.

Still, you can’t stop yourself from murmuring to Eddie, “d’you want me to stay here with Harris? Just in case it’s too much for him?”

He considers it for a moment before shaking his head, shrugging on his denim jacket. “Nah, he got his nap. Should be fine.”

The little boy in question slips one hand into yours and looks up at you with a grin. Eddie had talked to him earlier, reminded him about expressing himself in ways that didn’t hurt people–or their ears–and Harris apologized tearily. All is forgiven; at least between you and him. You still feel an uneasiness with Eddie, though it may be one-sided, as he’d quietly lamented that you two couldn’t shower together.

“We’re goin’ to the market! We’re goin’ to the market!” Harris chants, shuffling on the balls of his feet in a little dance. “Ms. Sweetheart, guess what?”

“What?”

“WE’RE GOIN’ TO THE MARKET!”

“Shocking,” Eddie mutters under his breath, a wry smile on his lips, and you use your free hand to swat at his stomach. “Okay,” he pats the wallet in the side pocket of his jeans, “got the company card, keys, handsome son, beautiful girlfriend…” He glances around the room; this time, he’s either unaware of his slip-up or is unbothered by Harris knowing your relationship status. “Looks like we’re good to go!”

The car ride isn’t too long; it’s only about a ten minute drive before you reach the market. And since you’d remembered to let Harris press the elevator button, it didn’t feel endless.

“Now, Harris,” Eddie says as his son climbs out of the car, hopping onto the parking lot pavement, “the market’s gonna be busy–”

“I know!”

“--so you have to hold my hand, or Ms. Sweetheart’s hand–”

“I know!”

“--the whole time. Got it?”

“Yes!” He’s far too exasperated for a five-year-old, and you have to bite your cheek to keep from laughing. “Can we go in now?”

Eddie obliges and takes Harris’s right hand; you take his left, the three of you walking towards the gigantic building together.

You’d figured it would be crowded, but you’re unprepared for just how overstimulated your senses become upon entering. Vendors shout advertisements for their booths, beckoning potential customers to check out their wares. Snippets of different conversations infiltrate your ears, and you swallow hard to clear your head, though the grainy muzak pumping through the overhead speakers doesn't help.

Immediately, you spot a booth selling secondhand books, and you look at Eddie with a hopeful gaze.

“Go,” he motions with a smile, laughing when you all but skip off to the stack of novels. You don’t want to take too long, as neither Munson has the patience to wait while you peruse your options. A weathered paperback copy of The Grapes of Wrath catches your eye, some pages dog-eared and smelling faintly of stale smoke, and you fish out two quarters from the bottom of your bag and place them in the vendor’s hand.

“Okay,” you breathe when you get back to Eddie and Harris, overwhelmed just by the short walk. You grip Harris’s hand even tighter, all-too protective of him in such a crowded space. “Let’s go get some records!”

Eddie finds a variety of vinyls that he knows will sell at Rock Records—from older classics like Louis Armstrong, Etta James, and Buddy Holly, to more recent gems from Van Halen, Queen, and Michael Jackson.

“Babe, check this out!” he announces gleefully, showing off a copy of Metallica’s Ride the Lightning. “I must’ve listened to this a hundred times when it was released in ‘84.” His enthusiasm is palpable, and you have to wonder if this purchase is for the store or for himself.

To his credit, Harris lasts a full twenty-five minutes before he starts asking for ice cream again. “You promised, renember?”

Eddie grins at him, then at you. “A promise, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “Can’t break that.”

“I think I saw a booth down there that’s sellIng some.” It’s a local shop, and you know one cone will probably cost more than a half-gallon at the grocery store, but you’ll risk the upcharge if it means avoiding a second meltdown today.

“I’ll be right there,” Eddie tells you, eyes flitting back towards a row of booths you’d passed by earlier. “Just get me something with chocolate?”

“What’s the magic word?” Harris interjects.

“Please.” He lays it on thick, throwing you a wink before turning around.

You grab a $5 bill from your back pocket, change from when you’d bought the sandwiches earlier, and approach the ice cream stand.

“Can I please get one cherry chip cone, one chocolate fudge cone, and…what do you want, Har?”

“That!” He points to a giant display of model cars displayed in front of a toy vendor’s booth. “I want the orange one!”

“We can look after,” you reassure him. “First, you have to pick the ice cream flavor you want.”

“Hmm,” he presses on tiptoes to peruse his options before pressing his forefinger to the glass, pointing to cookies ‘n cream, declaring, “that one!”

The vendor hands him his cone, then turns to you and confirms, “just the three cones?”

“Mhm.”

She punches some numbers into the register, expression far too serious for the gig. “That'll be $6.”

Exhaling, you hand her the bill in your palm. There’s no way the stodgy woman is going to cut you a break for the extra dollar. “Give me a sec; I should have a single in my wallet.” You let go of Harris’s hand, fumbling around in your bag until you pull out what you’ve been searching for.

The vendor takes your money and hands you the remaining two cones, already starting to melt with all of the body heat surrounding you.

“Thank you,” you say with a polite smile. “Okay, Har, let’s—” Your blood runs cold when you realize he’s nowhere to be found. “Harris!” you call out, voice shaking on the last syllable, unable to hide how frantic you feel. “Harris!”

Eddie, already on his way from his earlier errand, runs over to you. “Where’s—”

“He was just here!” You push your way through the crowd, accidentally brushing your scoop of cherry chip along someone’s jacket, but there’s no time to apologize.

You and Eddie take turns yelling out his name, bile rising in your throats with each unanswered shout, until you hear somebody ask, “is that your mommy and daddy calling for you?”

Both your and Eddie’s heads swivel towards the conversation, breathing identical sighs of relief when you see the familiar mop of curls in front of the toy car display.

“Oh, thank God.” It comes out in one breath, your chest deflating as you and Eddie rush towards him.

“Harris, what are you doing?” Eddie admonishes him, heart still racing as the surge of adrenaline tapers off. He picks him up, fingers digging into the shirt fabric as he holds him as close as possible, and presses a kiss to his scalp. There will be some sort of consequence later–revoking TV time and a lecture on stranger danger–but for now, there’s only the comfort of knowing he’s safe.

“I just wanted to see the cars,” Harris protests, trying and failing to wriggle from Eddie’s grip. “Can I get the orange one?”

Eddie huffs out an incredulous laugh, astounded that Harris doesn’t understand the seriousness of his actions. “No, you can’t!” he yells, attracting unwanted attention from other shoppers, “and you can’t wander off like that! I told you that you have to stay with one of us the whole time!” He flexes his palm before clenching it into a frustrated fist. “What were you thinking?”

Harris’s eyes fill with tears. “I j-just wanted to s-see them,” he tries again, taken aback by the anger in his dad’s voice. “An’ Ms. Sweetheart was right there!”

The mention of your nickname reminds Eddie of the other adult involved. “You were supposed to be watching him,” he spits, gritting his teeth to keep from raising his voice at you.

You wince at his tone, filled with venom for the first time since his comment about Grandma forgetting you all those months ago. The difference is that, now, you deserve it. Letting go of his hand was careless; at the very least, you should have reminded him to stay put. The early morning donut, the elevator button were menial indiscretions compared to this mistake. There’s no denying that you’d royally messed up.

“I’m so sorry.” Sorry for not keeping a closer eye on Harris. Sorry for waking him up from his nap via a screaming child. Sorry for waltzing into their lives and thinking you had a snowball’s chance in Hell of being a decent parent. The ice cream drips down the cones and onto your hands, pooling in the crevices between your fingers. You dump them in the nearest trash can, neither of you hungry anymore.

You can’t return to the hotel soon enough, and as soon as Eddie puts an episode of Rugrats on TV for Harris, you begin inconspicuously packing your collecting your toiletries from the bathroom to back in your luggage.

“What’re you doing?” Eddie asks from the doorway. He’s got his arms folded across his chest, perplexion wrinkling his brows.

“Going home.”

He presses his forefinger and thumb to his eyelids and shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like–”

“No,” you interrupt him, choking down your frustration, “you were right. You trusted me to watch him, and I didn’t.”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie steps forward and puts out a hand to stop you from grabbing your toothbrush, “it was an accident. Things happen in a split second, yeah?” He thinks back to the way Harris had tumbled off of the bed months ago. “We found him, and that’s what matters.”

He’s trying to comfort you, which somehow makes you feel worse. You lost his kid, but he’s focusing on making you feel better.

The next words out of your mouth shatter his heart into pieces: “I think it would be better for everyone if I leave.”

A small puff of air escapes his nostrils, unsurprised but hurt nonetheless. “‘S too much for you, isn’t it?” he mumbles, not even daring to glance in your direction as he says it.

He knows. He knows that you aren’t cut out for this, that you’ll never be the mom Harris needs or deserves. In his own words, he knows it’s too much for you.

You say nothing in return, and your silence is louder than the cartoon squabble just a few feet away.

“Fine, just…just go, then.” He slams one palm on the bathroom sink, the other raking through his hair so forcefully that a few strands come loose. “God, I need a fucking cigarette!” he mutters, jaw clenched.

“I’m so sorry.” It’s all you can think to say. You’ll repeat it over and over again if it rectifies the situation.

“Yeah, whatever.” He starts to leave the room, not even turning back around to say, “I’ll tell Harris you’re not feeling well.” He wants to ask you to call the hotel room when you get home but bites back the request. That’s something one partner asks of another, and you aren’t partners anymore, he realizes bitterly, and it’s his fault. He’d put the responsibility of parenthood on you far too quickly.

He could have insisted that Harris stay and nap with him rather than letting him go to the park. He could have kept Harris by his side while you got the ice cream, or the three of you could have gone together. Instead, he’d just assumed that this was a role you had no qualms about taking on. In his eagerness to build this little family, he’d squandered the foundation before it had even set.

Eddie watches as you walk away, the words wait and don’t go and we can figure this out lurking behind his molars, but he remains silent.

When the door slams behind you, he bites on his thumb. Go after her, some part of him—his conscience, maybe—nags, but he pushes the thought away. He can’t ask you to stick around and be a mom to his son if it isn't truly what you want to do.

He removes his finger from between his teeth and shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, temporarily confused when he’s met with some resistance. The tiny brown paper bag crinkles as his fingers make contact with it, and he pulls it out dejectedly.

He’d spotted the necklace while scavenging for record vendors and made a mental note to return to it when you weren’t there to see. A tiny metal heart on a chain that he’d planned to give to you at the end of the trip. It was the reason he’d left you alone with Harris; he’d wanted it to be a surprise.

“Well, that was a fuckin’ waste,” Eddie says to no one in particular, shoving it back in the confines of his pocket. He sits next to Harris, hoping Tommy Pickles’ shenanigans will melt his brain for just a few moments.

The next bus to Hawkins pulled up thirty minutes after your cab arrived at the station. It was the only way to get home, and an embarrassingly large part of you hoped that Eddie and Harris would swing by, enveloping you in a tight hug and promising you that you’re doing a great job. That you’re enough.

That moment remains a daydream, one that replays over and over as you lean your head against the window. It’s all highway from here to your small town, close to three hours on the road because of the intermediate stops, but you’re in no hurry to return. If it hurts now, you can’t imagine the pain when the loneliness sets in.

Of course Eddie wasn’t coming to rescue you; you’d let him down right when he’d needed you. It was all so superficial on your end, thinking that you could be a mother just because you’d taught Harris how to read and have dinner with him and his dad once a week.

Wallowing in pity is too indulgent, too pathetic, but you can’t keep from berating yourself. You’re a preschool teacher; how hard is it to remember to hold a kid’s hand?

Tears slip down your cheeks involuntarily and you swipe at them before your seat partner can notice. The last thing you need is to strike up an emotional conversation with a complete stranger.

And what is it with you and crying today? Getting choked up when Eddie had pointed out the donut mistake, feeling like you were going to have a meltdown alongside Harris, and now this? It’s like you have an endless supply of tears.

The most likely culprit is your run-of-the-mill PMS; you can always count on being overly sensitive on those select few days. You open your bag and take out the pocket calendar where you keep track of important appointments and dates, including your periods.

Today’s April 26. You flip back to March, rifling through the pages until you see that the first day of your last period was the twentieth.

You’re almost a full week late.

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ellecdc · 3 months

Text

Come Back, Be Here (finale)

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 5.7k

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, hurt/comfort, fluff, use of Y/N

A/N: Holy. Friggen. Crap. WHAT A RIDE! Thank you all so much for enjoying this story with me - it has truly felt like the most niche book club and I have had so much fun chatting with you all. Feel free to send in requests for these lovely characters in the CBBH universe - I'd love to continue playing with them! xx

Lily and James Potter returned to 12 Grimmauld place on the 3rd of November – Sirius’ birthday. There were long hugs, a lot of tears and soft dinner conversation, but there would be no gifts or raucous celebrating.

Regulus Black was arrested at Malfoy Manor as a marked Death Eater, but with the backing of James, Sirius and Dumbledore, the Ministry allowed Regulus to be placed on house arrest, confiscating his wand whilst he awaited trial. Dumbledore assured the group that because of Regulus’ defection, his support of the Order, and the memories that Dumbledore, you, and those who were present on October 31st provided the Ministry, Regulus would likely be acquitted of his charges, or at the very least receive a lighter sentence.

Tom Riddle was quickly charged with treason, tyranny, countless charges of the use of unforgiveables, countless charges of leading or causing the death of wizards, witches, and muggles, countless charges of torture and brutality, eliciting fear and chaos, and illegal use of Dark Magic. He was sentenced to the Dementor’s Kiss and the act was carried out on the 5th of November.

Peter Pettigrew did indeed receive a fair trial for his role in the Wizarding War. He was questioned under Veritaserum, and it was found that he was guilty of treason, using unforgiveables, contributing to the fear and chaos of a treasonous leader, the use of Dark Magic, and sexual assault and brutality. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban.

Lucius Malfoy came looking for his son and was thus arrested by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on the charge of being a marked Death Eater. He was questioned under Veritaserum which proved Lucius was guilty of harboring dangerous criminals, using unforgiveables, contributing to the fear and chaos of a treasonous leader, and the use of Dark Magic. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban. His property and vault at Gringott’s were seized by the Ministry and, after taking what was owed for reparations, was placed into his son’s name.

The Ministry respected Narcissa Malfoy’s dying wish and placed Draco Malfoy in the care of Sirius Black and Y/N L/N. The Ministry offered the couple access to the Malfoy vault to support Draco’s upbringing, but they opted to leave it aside for the child to choose what to do with the fortune when he was of age.

Narcissa Malfoy’s funeral took place on the 7th of November. The blustery November air accosted the patrons which mostly consisted of Order members and a few of Narcissa’s friends who were able to dodge persecution for their roles or complacency in the war. She was awarded an Order of Merlin posthumously for her role - a title she now shared with you, Sirius, James, Lily, Remus, and later Regulus along with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. Draco left his mother a beautiful bouquet of narcissus, baby’s breath, lavender, and pink camelia’s. You and Sirius gave her a bouquet of edelweiss, fern, and gladioli. Blue hydrangeas and hyssops came from Regulus who was unable to attend due to the nature of his house arrest but were placed at Narcissa’s headstone by Lily and Harry in the family plot of Malfoy Manor. Andromeda, Ted and Nymphadora Tonks stood by you, Sirius, and Draco at the headstone during the funeral service as Dumbledore spoke of the bravery, loyalty, and dedication Narcissa showed not only to her son and her family, but to the greater wizarding world on the 31st of October.

“There is not one witch or wizard amongst us today that does not owe Narcissa Black Malfoy a considerable debt. Without her bravery and cunningness, evil could very well have prospered, dooming us all to life of immense pain and suffering. She dreamed of a legacy - of a better future - for her own son as well as for every child of wizard kind. Narcissa was a beyond bright student during her time at Hogwarts, a strong leader in her social circle, a skilled healer during the war, and an incredibly brave soldier. Though, possibly her favourite and certainly her greatest role was that of a loving mother; for she died to ensure that her son would live to see a better tomorrow. Narcissa Black Malfoy is the type of person, friend, partner, and parent that each of us should aspire to be. May her legacy of love and loyalty live eternally.” He said as he raised his wand.

One by one, every person present raised their wand to the heavens in honour of Narcissa Malfoy and her sacrifice to the wizarding world. Draco, Harry and Nymphadora, along with the Weasley children and Neville Longbottom who did not yet have their own wands raised a narcissus flower in solidarity.

The remaining marauders, you, Lily, and Regulus did indeed stay at 12 Grimmauld place for some time. The house was unrecognizable from the time Regulus and Sirius spent growing up there; it was bright, it was colourful, it was full of children’s laughter and squealing, it was a place people liked to come to visit, and it was chock full of love.

The problem with the new and improved Grimmauld Place?��

Your tribe quickly outgrew it.

As time went on, your memories seemed to return to you basically in full, and the full extent of your trauma reared its ugly head. For years you became hyper-focused on knowing where each member of your family was at any given moment, and a panic attack threatened any moment you didn’t have everyone important to you within your periphery. The Third Worst Day™ of Sirius’ life (in chronological order, the first being the day he almost ruined things between you two, the next being the day you ‘died’) was the day Lily and James suggested to you, him, Remus, and Regulus that they should perhaps fix up Potter Manor and move their ever-growing family there. It was partly the worst day because of how the idea of James and Lily moving away made him feel, but it was mostly because of the mental breakdown you had at the news.

“You can’t! You can’t do this! I just got you back, we just got each other back. You can’t do this!” You shouted as everyone tried to get you to breathe. The numerous hands approaching you placatingly was in fact not what you needed at the moment, and you fell into a manic state.

Needless to say, the suggestion was not met well by you, and ended with you being admitted to the psychiatric ward at St. Mungo’s. Sirius sat at your bedside with your hand in his, Lily and James in chairs across from him whilst Regulus and Remus stayed home and watched the children.

“I cannot live without any of you anymore. I’m sorry, but I refuse. I can’t do it.” Sirius admitted quietly to his friends as he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

You had been dosed heavily with calming draught and dreamless sleep in order to prevent any seizure activity, which you became plagued with due to the trauma of the brain from memory retention and prevention throughout the war.

“I can’t either.” James admitted, causing Lily to turn and face him.

“I’m sorry Lil’s, I know-” he cut himself off to take a steadying breath. “I know when we got married, you probably imagined us living at the Manor or maybe in another place as independent adults. After we lost mum and dad, I’m sure you imagined us taking that over in their place, and I think I wanted that too, but now, knowing what we know, I would have done things differently. I wish we had moved in with mum and dad and been there to enjoy their last few years with them. We had our own flat at the time and Moony, Pads, and Vix had theirs and I was so lucky that I got to spend as much time with Vixen as I did, being her order partner and all, but then she was gone, and I regretted ever spending a single moment away from her. Now...now I’m afraid that every second I don’t spend with you – all of you, any of you, my family – is a second wasted and I don’t want to waste another precious second. Not anymore. Not ever again.”

Lily looked imploringly at her husband.

“You really are a bell-end.” She muttered fondly.

“Pardon me?”

“Do you really think I imagined us living alone in that big ass manor just us and our kids? What part of that do you think appeals to me? I love you, James, but a girl needs backup to deal with the likes of you.”

Sirius and James exchanged a bemused glance before Lily continued.

“I want to live the rest of my life with my family. That’s you, James, and our kids, but it’s also Sirius and Y/N, it’s Remus and Regulus and Draco. Hell, if Alice and Frank or Marlene and Dorcas told me they wanted to move in I’d happily help them pack the boxes.” She laughed as she looked at you and Sirius’ intertwined hands.

“I think we’re all going to be stuck with one another until the end of time.” James said as he pulled his wife into his side.

Sirius smiled greatly at them. “Until all the mischief is managed.”

After that, the friends all agreed that none of them were willing to part from the group, and if for whatever reason anyone felt the need for more privacy, they would opt to build an outbuilding on the property.

“Oi! You’ve gotta knock, Prongs! Fuckin’ wanker.” Sirius had shouted as he hastily pulled the sheets up around the two of you.

“Uhm, maybe you’ve gotta lock the door, Pads.” James muttered with a mouthful of muffin as he came in to sit on the edge of the bed, completely unperturbed by the fact that the two of you were still naked and very recently involved in unmentionable deeds.

Nevertheless, no one ever felt the need to build their own place on the property.

And Sirius made sure James got a taste of his own medicine a time or two after that incident.

Lily Evans Potter did indeed contact Healer Grundke at the end of the war and was brought on to work under her as an intern whilst she worked toward getting her Healer license. She spent many years in general medicine before moving fulltime to labour and delivery. Sirius often teased her that between the number of days she has spent in labour & delivery as a patient and as a doctor, he was surprised any of their other friends ever saw her.

His nose was charmed green for a week.

Regulus Black was eventually acquitted of his crimes. He was placed on a sort of life-long probation in the form of a tracking spell on his wand that would alert the Ministry of him ever practicing Dark Magic. He opted to stay with his brother and his friends though he pretended to hate every minute of it. In truth, Regulus found great joy in being an uncle to Sirius’ and James’ children and Godfather to his best friend’s daughter Luna Lovegood. He declined the opportunity to join the Wizengamot, stating that as the rightful heir to the Black name, Sirius should be the one to take the Black’s seat.

Sirius Black, in Sirius Black fashion, dramatically refuted this idea. He did not want to pick up the mantle that was laid for him by the generations of Black’s before him; he refused to sit in the nearly still warm seat that his father had left. It took Regulus, Remus, and Lily all to tell him how much good he could do by not only bringing in a younger generation’s perspective to the Wizengamot, but as a wealthy heir to a pureblood line, a war hero, and an advocate for werewolf and muggleborn rights, he could bridge the gap between the left and right-wing members of the court.

It also helped that you had told him he’d be the only one capable of making the robes look punk rock.

James Potter opted to be a stay-at-home dad and uncle to care for the children living at Potter Manor. The Potter vaults had enough money in them to last his family multiple lifetimes without every making a dent, and with the money Lily was making as a healer, there was no need to be worried financially. Also, being a kid at heart made him the absolute best friend of any child who met him. As the children grew older, he and Mrs. Weasley worked together to homeschool the children of the Order until they were old enough to attend Hogwarts.

Remus Lupin, never one willing to ride on his friend’s coat tails, spent the first few months following the war applying to various jobs through out Wizarding London. He had hoped that between his stellar academic record, his time spent as a prefect and tutor, his Order of Merlin, and his dedication to the winning side of the Wizarding War, that he would be able to secure a job within wizarding society. Unfortunately, it seemed the wizarding world still had a long way to go with the prejudice it held for werewolves. Walking through Diagon Alley feeling sorry for himself, Remus spotted a “for lease” sign in the window of what used to be a pet store. He immediately sent an owl to the landlord and asked for a meeting.

Though Remus tried to refuse, Sirius and James insisted on investing in Remus’ planned bookstore.

“I’m not borrowing money, Prongs.” Remus muttered defiantly.

“It’s not borrowing, Moons! It’s an investment! If anything, you’ll be making me more money.” He exclaimed excitedly.

“Moony, please,” Sirius added...well, seriously, “think of how pissed off my ancestors would be to know I’m investing their money in a half-blood werewolf’s business which happens to stock muggle literature?”

With a mischievous smirk, the deal was settled, and the lease was signed.

Remus wasted no time to get started at the bookstore. He walked into the small storefront and conjured a broom, deciding to start by sweeping up the hay and owl droppings.

No sooner had he started did he hear the door chime.

“Oh! My apologies, we’re not quite open yet.” Remus offered as he made his way to the door. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you and Regulus standing in the entry.

“I should hope not. This place looks awful.” Regulus commented with a wrinkled nose.

You elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Looks like you could use some help.” You said cheerily as you held out a stack of papers. Remus took them gently to find your CV and cover letter. Before Remus could even look up, Regulus dropped his on top of yours in Remus’ hand.

“All my references are either dead or in prison so.” He offered with a shrug.

“I’ll vouch for him.” You said.

You were smiling at him so kindly and so sweetly, Remus wanted to cry. You had always been his biggest supporter; championing him through every milestone in Remus’ life. He was certain he didn’t deserve even half of the love you gave him, but he was eternally grateful for every drop of it.

“Thank you, guys.” Remus said wetly as he pulled the two of you in for a hug. Regulus groaned the entire time but when Remus finally pulled away, he had a slight blush.

“Yeah, yeah. Well, what is family for?” He muttered which elicited a sharp gasp from you and a bark of laugh from Remus.

“Don’t be going soft on us now, Black!” Remus said with a laugh and ruffled his hair.

“Fuck you guys, clean this barn up on your own.” He grumbled as he turned to leave, but the two of you wouldn’t let him.

He was grateful that you didn’t.

Sirius eventually proposed to you – though beg was likely a more appropriate definition.

“We should get married.” He had said to you late one night as he came back to the bedroom after putting Draco down.

You lowered your book into your lap as you considered him. “I beg your pardon?”

“We should get married.” He repeated plainly.

Your lip threatened to quirk into a smirk, but you kept your face blank. “And why should we get married?”

Sirius guffawed at you. “Uhm, maybe because we’re in love? And I’m the best and would be the best husband?”

You continued to stare at him.

“Why shouldn’t we get married?” He asked, now beginning to panic.

“I never said we shouldn’t.”

“Then why won’t you marry me?” He shrilled as he moved to kneel at the end of the bed.

“You’re the first thought in my mind when I wake up in the morning and my last thought at night before I fall asleep. Fuck, you make up the majority of my dreams too. Did you know that? Did you know that I go to the Ministry and count down the minutes until I get to see you again? Did you know that when you’re at work, I spend my time thinking about what you’re doing, who you’re talking to, what they’re saying to you and you to them? And not in a stalkery way, I swear. But I just think you’re the coolest fucking person ever and I’m jealous of everyone who gets to listen to you speak when I’m stuck at home or at work. And I watch you with Draco -our sweet boy - and our Godson and the other children and I get fucking giddy thinking that I get to spend the rest of my days with a woman so lovely. So, marry me. Marry me, damnit!”

It was a battle to keep your face straight but by the absolute grace of God you did before saying “Siri, babe, you’re coming off a little desperate.”

There was a brief pause before you got a “you cheeky little minx” and 45 seconds of tickling which turned into kissing which turned into touching which turned into so much more.

You were sticky and satisfied as you both caught your breath, still intertwined with one another when you said, “I will.”

“Hm?”

“I will.” You repeated as you leaned onto your elbow so you could look him in the eyes. “I’ll marry you. Marry me.”

Sirius stared at you in awe before pulling you down into his embrace for a searing kiss which once again turned into so much more.

And you guys did. Marry each other, that is. It was a beautiful spring day on the grounds of Potter Manor with only your closest family and friends. It was perhaps a touch smaller than what either you or Sirius grew up picturing your wedding to be, but it was so much better than either of you could have ever imagined.

“...I thank my lucky stars every day that I get to love such a wonderful woman. There’s not one person in this world who deserves to know the likes of you, me least of all, but will do everything I can to ensure I get to keep what little light you’re willing to share with me forever. I have already loved you in sickness and in health, for rich or for poor, and in life and in death. There is not one planet in any universe, nor a timeline that exists where my love for you does not. I vow to you that you will never spend a day in this life not being loved by me. Wherever you go, I go; in this life and the next.” Sirius said through his tears.

With a smile you began your own vows. “Sirius, I have had the absolute pleasure of getting to witness you become the man you are today. It wasn’t always easy or pretty, but I have seen you through it all; the good, the bad, the really bad, and the ugly. And I have loved you through all of it. As I laid dying, I told James that I didn’t regret a single moment of this life with you, and that is still true today. Every moment, all the blood, sweat, and tears, brought us here today - and I would still do all of it again if it meant getting to stand here today by your side. I made a vow that I would find you in our next life and I would love you there too. Well, here I am. I found you. I will always find you.”

Lily, Marlene, and Alice stood by your side, and James, Remus, and Regulus stood by Sirius’ as your magic was bound together, and you were pronounced husband and wife.

Sirius hung the framed parchment that Remus had found in the wooded area where he first met Regulus in his office. The note symbolized your dedication to him, to your friends and family, and your unyielding perseverance. The parchment was later joined by your wedding pictures, drawings that he and Harry had painted back in Grimmauld place as well as pictures Harry and Draco had given him since, and the first ever check he received for his investment in A Marauder’s Map to Books.

You loved working at Moony’s bookstore; everyday felt like getting to hang out with your best friends even though you pretty much lived with them as well. It was nice to see Remus and Regulus in a setting outside of the parental/guardian role you’d all taken on following the war. You were surprised at first (though you supposed you should have known better) that Remus and Regulus worked really well together – Regulus’ uptight and serious façade was well balanced with Remus’ laidback and jovial personality. Regulus would handle the more difficult customers whilst Remus made sure every customer who came in felt welcome. Things often fell by the wayside or got overlooked when Remus was away due to the moons, and Regulus was quick to pick up the slack. Regulus would often get too caught up in work and forget to stay fed or hydrated, which Remus counteracted by briskly walking past Regulus and placing biscuits and cups of tea brewed exactly to Regulus’ liking before he could refuse. If you noticed Regulus’ cheeks tinge peak and a shy smile grace his lips – you didn’t mention it.

Draco grew to be a very happy child; you and Sirius couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride every time that boy giggled or laughed. You kept your word and left the Malfoy vaults untouched save twice a year when Narcissa would purchase a gift for Draco on June 5th and December 25th.

He was such a good son and an even better big brother.

Draco was the most jealous of Harry when Harry became a big brother to his sister Jasmine Potter. It was hard not to chuckle at how proud the four-and-a-half-year-old was as he bragged about being the ‘bestest big brother’ and watching Draco skulk around the house.

“I could be a big brother! Really, I could. I’d be so nice and gentle, and I would share all my toys!” He told you and Sirius solemnly as you tucked him in to bed. You assured him he would indeed be a wonderful big brother, but not to worry about it too much as you were sure Lily and James could use two big brothers for their newest addition.

You both gave him kisses goodnight and closed the door behind you. You’d hardly made it two steps from the door before your husband had you pushed up against the wall.

“I could be a really good daddy too, you know?” He whispered into your neck before starting to suck on your pulse point.

You couldn’t stifle the moan that escaped your lips. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

Sirius kissed his way back up your jaw before slotting his lips against yours. “Perhaps we should give the kid what he wants.” He managed between kisses.

You chuckled.

“He gets everything he wants already, Siri.” You whispered back as you pulled his body flush with yours.

“What about me, hm?”

You pulled your head back to search his face. “Do you want another baby, Sirius?”

Sirius’ pupils seemed to blow wide at the sentiment. “I don’t so much want a baby as I want your baby, my love.” He whispered reverently.

Your restraint snapped and you launched yourself at him. He caught you as your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck, carrying you down the hall to your bedroom.

Approximately ten months later you gave birth to your daughter Aurora Black.

September 1st, Kings Cross Station

“Merlin’s saggy balls, how do you – for fuck sa– oh, got it!” Sirius could be heard behind you as he fought with the pram.

“Would you watch your mouth?” Lily muttered.

“Yeah Pads, watch your fuckin’ mouth!” James loudly announced causing other parents to look over at the absolute freak show that was the Potter & Black family’s stepping onto Platform 9 ¾.

“Sorry.” You offered with a quiet smile to a particularly perturbed looking couple as they grabbed their smarmy looking child and ushered him away from the likes of you. “Wankers.” You muttered as they hobbled off.

“Who’s a wanker, mum?” Draco asked as he slid up beside you. The rotten child knew he wasn’t supposed to use such language but couldn’t pass the chance at getting to repeat your nasty comment.

“Presently, it’s you.” You commented while teasingly narrowing your eyes at him.

“Oi, leave your poor mum alone! You’re buggering off to Hogwarts and leaving her with the likes of me for the next ten months.” Sirius said as he (finally) made his way to you with the pram in tow. The three-year-old twins seemed none the wiser that they just nearly got folded into the damned thing and thrown onto the tracks in a fit of rage.

“My deepest condolences during this trying time.” Draco offered you severely.

Sirius scoffed and you laughed as you pulled him into an embrace. You were waiting for the day he pushed you away because hugging your mom goodbye in front of your friends was embarrassing. But today, you relished in the feeling of your first child letting you hold him tight.

“I’m so proud of you, Draco.” You murmured into his platinum hair.

“Thank you, mum.” He responded quietly.

“Draco! Harry! Over here!” The sound of Hermione Granger interrupted your hug as Draco turned to wave at his friends.

“Be good kid, okay? Look out for your sister?” Sirius asked as he pulled Draco into his own embrace.

“’Course, dad. I’m not new here.” He teased as he ruffled Aurora’s hair.

“Draaaccoooo...” She whined in response.

“Go see ‘Mione.” You ordered Draco with one last side hug. Harry and Draco swapped parents and siblings to give their respective goodbyes before heading off to catch up with their friends.

“Are you ready, Rory?” Jasmine Potter asked your daughter kindly. She was a year above Aurora and was very excited to get the chance to show her younger cousin around the castle.

Your daughter looked between her cousin and her parents before Sirius spoke up. “Jazz, do you mind giving us a minute?” He asked his Goddaughter.

Jasmine turned to talk to James and Lily who were busy entertaining Posie and Lyra as you and Sirius bent down to talk to Aurora.

“What’s on your mind, love?” You asked your daughter gently.

Your heart welled as Aurora’s eyes turned glassy.

“I’m not ready.”

Sirius made a cooing sound as he wiped the tears from under her lash line. “What are you most worried about, my little star?”

Aurora sniffled miserably. “What if I’m sorted into the wrong house?”

You and Sirius couldn’t help but rear your head at the comment. Out of all the things you thought would be worrying your daughter on her first day of boarding school, which house she got sorted into was not it.

“Rory, that’s the exciting part baby.” You tried as you rubbed her arm consolingly.

“I get it, Ro, I was worried about which house I was going to be sorted into as well.” Sirius commented.

Aurora rubbed a fist against her eye as she turned to consider her father. “Really?”

Sirius nodded solemnly. “Really. You see, I came from a long line of proud Slytherins. I was supposed to get sorted into that house too, because I was supposed to be just like them. But I couldn’t be like them, I could only be like me. So, I was sorted in Gryffindor, even though my family didn’t like it.”

“Did you get in trouble?”

Sirius nodded sadly. “I did.”

“But Ro, you know that no matter what house you get sorted into, me and daddy are going to be so, so, so proud of you. And we’ll be proud of you because you’re you, not because you were sorted into Ravenclaw or Gryffindor or Hufflepuff or Slytherin.” You added with a soft smile.

Aurora seemed to consider this. “Well, Harry and Jazzy are in Gryffindor, and Draco is in Slytherin. I’d like to be in one of those I think.”

You nodded at her, but it was Sirius who answered.

“That’d be pretty cool, huh? But listen, I met the most fantastic people in my house even though I knew no one in it when I first got sorted. Uncle Prongs and Uncle Moony were my dormmates for seven years and look at us now! Completely co-dependent and still living together.”

“What is co-dependent?” Aurora asked with furrowed brows.

“Not important. What I’m trying to say is, Rory, you are going to give that hat a run for its money, you know why?” Sirius asked.

Aurora shook her head.

“Because you are your mother’s daughter. And she is the the most loyal, the most cunning, the bravest and the smartest person I know. You’ve been raised by the most spectacular person, and any one of those houses will be lucky to have you. Got it?”

You watched as Rory took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before offering her dad a solid nod.

“Atta girl!” He said as he enveloped her in a hug and kissed her head. “You show that sorting hat who’s boss.”

Aurora chuckled as she moved to hug you.

“I’m so proud of you, my love.” You said into her hair. She tightened her hold on you before letting go and stepping back.

“I think we’re ready for you, Jazzy.” You called, and the older girl came and took Aurora’s hand as they headed towards Draco and Harry to board the train.

James and Sirius wolf whistled and hollered, waving frantically as they watched the kids walk away. Hermione, Harry and Draco chuckled while Neville and Ron turned beat red at the attention.

You propped Lyra on your hip and the two of you continued to wave as the train pulled away. None of you stopped waving until you couldn’t see your babies anymore.

A sob tore its way through James, and you looked over to see Lily making alarmed eye contact with you as she awkwardly patted his arm and he and Sirius leaned into each other.

“First time?” An older woman asked as she went to walk past you.

“No” was yours and Lily’s chorused response as you peeled your husband away from his best mate and moved him toward the pram where your youngest two sat forgotten.

“Lord, is it going to be this bad every time we send one of the kids off the first time?”

“It’ll be worse!” Sirius cried emphatically as he fell into your arms, basically crushing poor Lyra who was still sat on your hip. You looked over to Lily hoping for help only to see her in a similar predicament.

“Sirius Black, at this rate our youngest three won’t ever want to come back to Kings Cross Station.” You muttered as you moved Lyra to your other hip so you could support your husband’s weight.

“Good! Then they’ll never leave me!”

Your heart twinged as you patted Sirius’ back.

“Siri, look at me.”

For a moment you thought he might refuse, but he unfolded himself slowly and stood to look at you.

“This is what we fought for, my love.” You said as you caressed his cheek. “So that our babies could go to Hogwarts and learn and be children and be free and be safe.”

“I still hate it.”

You laughed at his petulance. “Me too, actually. Do you think Hogwarts is hiring? What if we all just move there?”

“Great idea, Vix!” James cheered from beside you, eyes rimmed and cheeks glistening. “Lily flower could work in the infirmary, Padfoot could teach astronomy, you could teach muggle studies, I could teach flying, Moony could teach defence against the dark arts and Regulus could teach potions! It’s perfect!”

Though you had to admit this plan of James’ actually sounded pretty perfect, your attention turned to little Posie falling asleep in Lily’s arms.

“Why don’t we discuss this more once we get these kiddos down for a nap, hm?”

Sirius found you later sitting in the sunroom with a book in hand. He thought you made the prettiest picture sitting in the soft sun filtering through the leaves of the trees outside, plants surrounding you with your nose buried in a book. So, he took a picture.

“I wasn’t ready!” You whined with a smile on your face.

“You’re always ready.” He said as he pressed a kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry I was such a mess at the train station today.” He said as he lifted your legs off the loveseat to sit down and replace them atop his lap.

“You don’t have to apologize, Siri.” You said as you tapped him with your book.

“I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.” He commented, his gaze seemed far away as he watched the branches dance in the September breeze.

“You can do that tomorrow.” You whispered back.

A smile graced his face before he turned to look at you. “I love you; did you know? I don’t think I say it enough, but I do; I love you.”

He punctuated his sentence with three loving squeezes of the fat of your thigh.

“Sirius. Every breath I take means ‘I love you’.” You responded and sealed it with a kiss.

You got an owl from Draco and Aurora later that night.

Aurora was a hat stall.

She was also sorted into the same house as her mum.

Thank you so much for reading! Can't get enough? Check out these CBBH themed one shots, or, feel free to request a one-shot from your faves in this universe!

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black fic #marauders x reader #first wizarding war #first wizarding war fanfic #reader insert #escapism #self insert #canon divergence #hurt/comfort #sirius black hurt/comfort #sirius black one shot #sirius black blurb #sirius black ficlet

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trashmouththeorist · 7 months

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severus snape fic recs

my personal favs

Young Snape:

a life of smoke and silvered glass: Slight AU in which Severus apologizes, tries harder, and stays friends with Lily. Severus doesn't become a Death Eater because he believes in it, Jily get married. Sweet, slightly sad ending. (So cute).

Falling Apart: Time travel fic, no pairings, Severus goes back to when James levicorpused him. (I loved this, I loved how Mary was included and Avery had a redemption arc. Severus never calls Lily mudblood.)

in glory and in ruin: Mulciber/Snape but it's not a main part of it. Basically, a Triwizard Tournament in between the school houses, and Severus gets chosen even though he's only 16. The Marauders and Lily aren't really in it, focuses on Snape's Gang, Charity and Aurora. WIP, and I LOVE it!

The Gryffindor Sort: WIP. Long. In which Severus is a Gryffindor, Lupin is hiding something, Potter and Black are the worst, and there's a Wizarding War about to erupt.

Severus and the Marauders: Long. What if instead of being insulted and excluded from the group, Severus was embraced instead. After all, it was the actions of the group that shaped history from the sidelines. So what if they shaped history a little differently?

That Awful Snape Boy: It had all happened on Wednesday 3rd of September 1973; Minerva committed the date to memory. She would always be amazed that this discussion could happen in the first place. If the boy hadn’t been unconscious, would they even have learnt anything before it was too late?

The Unwanted Boy From Spinner's End: Severus Snape’s existence is a mistake. His mother hints at it often enough with her regretful, drawn-out sighs, while his father prefers to get the message across with a good strapping and a lecture on his worthlessness. Needless to say, the twelve-year-old is not particularly inclined to trust adults, no matter how concerned or caring they claim to be. His life changes abruptly, however, one late evening in September when an illicit brewing session results in a forced trip to the Hogwarts infirmary. Not only is the truth about Severus' home life discovered, but an investigation reveals that shortly prior to his mother’s unexpected death, a single piece of parchment was deposited into her Gringotts vault—a Last Will and Testament in which Eileen Snape née Prince grants guardianship of her son to none other than Albus Dumbledore himself.

To Recollect the Future: Hindsight is 20/20, but when Harry's last steps into the forest set him back further than he'd ever thought, he never realised how grateful he'd be to have Snape there to help too.

Severus' choice: How one choice changed history's course, or the life of Severus Snape from Hogwarts to adulthood if characters were less caricatural, and Voldemort and the Death Eaters were more than bogeymen. This is an AU, events before and after may differ from the books.

the lost generation: The Marauders era at Hogwarts, Voldemort's rise to power and the subsequent war, family loyalties and dishonour, and the struggles of friendship in a difficult time.

Snily:

Come Once Again and Love Me: My favourite Snily fic ever. Snape and Lily time travel back from their individual deaths to when they were still at Hogwarts. Realistic-Lily misses James and Harry and their falling in love is slow burn too. Made me want to cry. I almost liked James!

The Fields of Summer: Short and sad. His past was bleeding into the present, just as his future was bleeding out of the gaping wound in his neck. And since memories were useless to a dead man, Snape plucked them out of his mind and gave them to The Boy Who Lived. He didn’t realize that in so doing, he’d forget her.

seventeen moons: After the werewolf prank. Severus was bitten and Lily figures it out. I hated Sirius so much and he was barely in it but he wasn't villainised-it's just the consequences of his own actions.. Loved the Snily! Short.

Surprising Lessons: Tensions run high between the students of Hogwarts in the time when Severus Snape, Lily Evans, and the Marauders are teenagers. New spells are invented, insults are traded, new bonds form, and unexpected support blooms. Short and sweet.

Vox Severus: SO cute. When Severus Snape's voice changes in fourth year, everyone notices.

Ambiguous: Order member Lily did not have a baby. Death Eater Severus did not hear a prophecy. Consequently, the Dark Lord did not fall. ...but what happens when a long forgotten prophecy suddenly shakes, and flashes through the colours of the spectrum..?

Switching Wands: Severus and Lily acted as best friends should and talked about the Whomping Willow incident. Lily is less than impressed with Potter’s behaviour from that point onward.

Her Slytherin, His Gryffindor: Lily has had enough of James' bullying ways, so she decides to finally take advantage of her Prefect status. Or, in another universe, Lily helps Severus, and they become even closer.

Sweet Root: Lily decides to get Severus drunk one summer night. Angst thereby incurred happily resolves itself into, uh, happiness.

You Don't Bug Me: “Is there any reason you’re half naked in my room?”

Snape/Sirius:

Two Sides: A time travel fic where Severus and Sirius find themselves back on the evening before they graduated Hogwarts. With no idea how and why that happened, they set out to get back to their respective timelines. After all, Sirius has to save Harry at the Minstry of Magic, and Severus needs to tell Potter about the final Horcrux. Right? Too bad that they find themselves back on that evening over and over again. (Personal thoughts: I loved this one, very in character and I loved how they 'fixed' their regrets of the past).

Broken Me Found Broken You: It’s determined that Severus Snape and Sirius Black are immune to punishment after years of near-fatal pranks, bullying, and homemade curses. The only person who thinks them capable of ending the feud and finishing their education is Professor McGonagall. For the summer of ‘77, she gives them a pair of charmed hand mirrors and an ultimatum: communicate. That’s it, a mere ten minutes every Saturday. Back at Hogwarts, when their animosity proves insurmountable, Sirius and Severus are relegated to a small, Eighth Year dormitory. The tight quarters—wandless—are intended to force them to make a peaceful reconciliation, but peace is impossible with a bloody war ramping up inside and outside the castle.

Sorry: Sirius Black decides to make amends for the horrid way he treated Snape when they were teenages. Snape is less than amenable to the idea. (Written around the time of book three/four). Basically, Sirius apologises a lot. And then some fucking.

The Sin in Your Grin (And the Shape of Your Mouth): The Order needed Sirius, but he doubted they'd mourn him very long when he finally disappeared. The first Wizarding war, Snape and Sirius are fucking. Sirius thinks Remus is the spy, Severus tells him otherwise. Canon-compliant: James and Lily die, Peter is the spy. The last line. Shaking.

Dead Reckoning: Severus Snape delivers a potion to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, holding a twenty-year-old grudge in his heart. He has yearned for revenge for so long—and he will have it. Along with something else he did not ask for.

Beyond The Veil: In one world, Sirius Black ignored Severus Snape's warning and went to the Department of Mysteries to save his godson's life. He died and went beyond the veil. In another world, Sirius Black stayed back. This made all the difference. An AU where Sirius Black survived and now knew Severus Snape's deepest secret.

Rings And Ringing Bells: A bastardisation of a traditional love story. Two men both broken by the world are at wit’s end trying not to kill each other. There’s Severus, a bitter insult who does not take fools lightly, and Sirius, a drunkard who has a habit of pressing his buttons. It involves a curse which forces them to get married, an immaculate conception, and the blurring of the line between hate and love. They fear that they have no control over their lives and are doomed to make the mistakes their parents had done before them. They’re not good for each other, but the fiasco that is their romance may be enough to teach them how to hate each other and themselves a little less.

Always (Come For Me): Snape might have been lying when he said Sirius Black wasn't punished for the prank he had pulled on him. It all started with Sirius having to live with the Snapes for the remainder of his summer...

An Interlude: Set during Order of the Phoenix. Snape comes across Black looking through some of his old school things. Memories are stirred up, grudges are held, old conflicts refuse to be resolved, and new ground might be (dis)covered. A series of conversations in the year before a death.

bite your tongue, go to the funeral: A funeral, a departure, a chance encounter, a war, a funeral (again), a snide remark, and a revival.

Two Boys Kissing: Sirius goes to a gay bar and meets the last person he expects. Under cloudy skies, two boys kiss and that one moment comes to define generations of want, need and hope.

An Occlument Heart: Snape knows that, usually, keeping a secret is the bravest thing you can do. But sometimes the bravest thing is to tell one. Complete. Canon (more or less) up to the start of Book 5, when this story begins.

Found in the Moments Between the Search: When Sirius returns from beyond the Veil with knowledge of Voldemort's Horcruxes, he takes on the task of finding and destroying them. Somewhere along the way he finds an unexpected ally and perhaps something more. (AU from the end of OotP, takes place during HBP period)

Walking the Monochrome: That’s what being a dog is like – it's like you’re walking the very edge of the world, where almost all colour has run out, and you know that should you miss a step, you’ll fall off that edge... Then again, you already know all about it. The edge and the falling.” AU of the first war.

Second Life: What happens when two men are given a second chance.

The Welcoming Feast: Severus opened his eyes and he was suddenly inside Grimmauld Place. His hand flew to his neck. He remembered Nagini biting him, Potter coming to him and then he closed his eyes, expecting death, but instead he was back here.

The Devil-and-All to Pay: Albus Dumbledore is mad. Severus is sure of it, when the old man sends him to persuade Sirius Black to come back to England and let the Order use his family home as headquarters. The problem, as always, is that Severus cannot say no.

Black Out: Snape and Black try something they have never done before. Talking.

eighty-twenty: In seventh year James left Severus for Lily. Best choice he could have ever made. It never would have worked out. Besides, he and Lily are married now, she's pregnant with his soon to be child and Severus...Severus is with Sirius.

First and Last and Always: Severus had his wand. He swallowed hard. His wand. Magic. His only defense, because Black outweighed him by at least three stone. But magic was more than enough. Severus had never needed physical prowess. His magical strength, and the keenness of his mind, gave him the advantage. Except when it didn’t.

Visions of Doom: Severus gets injured in the shrieking shack (his fifth year). While unconscious he witnesses some scenes from his future and realizes becoming a death eater wouldn’t bring him power and glory but pain and servitude. He spends the rest of his schooling trying to shape a different future for himself.

Anything by FabulaRasa on AO3.

Remus/Snape:

Fuel the Pyre of Your Enemies: A paired class assignment for Astronomy incites a mutually beneficial agreement between Remus Lupin and Severus Snape. An exploration of sexuality and friendships. (One of my favourite Snupin fics, really realistic. Also no evil!peter).

where the wolfsbane blooms: Remus and Severus friendship, and then more. 7000 words-short but sweet. Severus tries to cure the lycanthropy. James is constantly befuddled.

Have Your Cake and Eat It: Remus POV. Long. Incredible. Changed my world view. I cried with Remus at the end. Still kind of happy! Time travel fic. Remus lives. Realistic for the characters and especially for the seventies (although lowkey Remus is too woke for the nineties why does he know the word heteronormative). I loved Sirius in this one. Lying in hospital after the Battle of Hogwarts, Remus Lupin has a lovely lucid dream that he's gone back to his school days at Hogwarts. Only the day passes, then another, and another, and soon he must face the terrifying possibility that it isn't a dream — that he has irreparably altered the events of the past. Cunegonde is SO good!

DELOCAPONUM: 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟏. A new acquaintance to the territory of teaching, an old friend to grief and misfortune, and entirely off on the wrong foot, twenty-one-year-old Professor Severus Snape reverts to an old charm of his — a charm for things that are lost — in attempt to find the one book in which he wrote it. But when the spell starts working against him and mysterious things start happening to his own students, it seems he has no choice but to form an alliance with an old schoolyard enemy in order to find a culprit, a book, and his own identity. And one thing is for certain: the irritating charm of Remus Lupin is nearly impossible to refuse.

Creature Comforts: A classic! Remus and Severus are paired to work together in Care of Magical Creatures in 6th year. Neither one is too happy with the arrangement at first.

That Awful Boy: CLASSIC! Severitus. Petunia lets slip a twenty-year-old secret, and Harry is sent to Spinner's End to study Occlumency early. Severus Snape can see no way in which this could end in catastrophe.

Not Really Here: After the werewolf prank, Severus disappears. He’s still at Hogwarts—at least, he thinks he is—and he’s probably still alive, but no one can see or hear him. Except for Lupin. Remus, meanwhile, is avoiding the other Marauders—as well as everyone else—and Snape becomes the sole exception to his self-appointed isolation. As they work together to look for answers about Severus’ condition, the unlikely pair drift toward friendship. But building a relationship of any kind presents a challenge when neither of them is sure Severus exists at all. I've only read this once but I love it. No Marauders bashing, but no pretending they're saints either. And they have a pretty big part but obvs Snupin is at the forefront.

The Heir to the House of Prince: Harry is the main character and the main ship is Harry and Theo. While Snupin is secondary it's pretty central. Summer of 4th year and Harry's all alone, dealing with his grief and the sudden revelation that James Potter is not his father. Support comes in a strange form. The form of Theo Nott, son of a death Eater. A strange friend who says he'll help him find his true father, whoever this Lord Prince might be. Technically Snily ig? But not really.

Sight Unseen: After losing his sight during the Battle of Hogwarts, Remus struggles to adjust to his new circumstances; when depression threatens to overwhelm him, he receives unexpected assistance from an unknown source.

The Other Side of The Mirror: In sixth year, Remus Lupin nearly killed Severus Snape in wolf form. Miraculously, Severus escaped unharmed. But what if he hadn't?

The Meaning of Mistletoe: What was going on was that Severus Snape had no trouble tracking down one Petunia Evans, now Dursley, to a little town in Surrey where he saw how exactly she was treating her nephew. Which somehow led to last night and Severus knocking on Lupin’s door with a toddler half-asleep in his arms.

Spymaster: Former spymaster and one time headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Severus Snape left the house just once a week on a Tuesday. Wherein Snape wears tracksuit pants and smokes too many cigarettes and Lupin is into it.

Well They're No Friends Of Mine: Whenever his friends pull a prank on Snape, Remus always looks the other way. But what if there's another option?

The Other Side of the Mirror: I haven't read this, but it's a 'what if Remus bit Snape.' 60000 words.

Artemisa Absinthium: The Rat and the Snake: AU set during the First Wizarding War. Severus has defected from the Dark Lord, and become a double agent for Dumbledore. When he learns of an informant it sends the Order into disaray. Can he uncover the identity of the traitor before his own true loyalty is revealed? What price is he willing to pay for his redemption? And can a man like Severus Snape ever be worthy of love?

Capnolagnia: Three times Remus caught Severus Snape smoking.

About Wolves and Snakes: Unfinished. Remus Lupin woke up being fifteen years old again, having no idea how or why. Upon learning that he could not return, he decided that he would try to change the way things happened.

One Thousand Galleons: It's been six years since Remus Lupin, age 25, left England after the death of his father and the slow dissolving of his friendship with the Marauders. A letter from James finds him in Canada at an opportune time, asking him to come home to meet his soon-to-be-born son. Remus never expected that his time away would give him the perfect resume for teaching at Hogwarts, nor did he expect that his return would spark both conflict and resolution. If only he could get the Potion's Professor to understand how sorry he is for the way things turned out. “What is the price for your forgiveness?” --- “One Thousand Galleons.”

Living Legend: Marauders-era fic, Snape decides he needs some "hands-on" experience and chooses Remus as his very special study partner. But there's more to these extracurricular activities than meets the eye.

Lily's Boy: With help from unexpected places, Harry starts on a journey to end the war, and reshape the wizarding world. With how much he looks like James Potter, people have forgotten one important thing about him - he is Lily Evans' son, and she was one hell of a witch. Side Snupin.

It's Not Over Til It's Done: Unfinished. Severus did not expect to survive the Second Wizarding War, but survive he did. Remus didn't either, yet due to unforeseen circumstances, Remus finds himself taking care of Severus in the wake of surviving Nagini's venom.

Ten Aprils: Severus must find a way for Harry to defeat Voldemort. Remus must find a way for Severus to free himself from the past. The Dark Lord is about to attack Hogwarts, and Harry needs to get over his rage, hate and despair in order to learn to summon the phoenix needed to defeat Voldemort. Snape must find the answers, then teach Harry how. In the next thirty minutes. Like it would ever happen.

A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love: A story in which Severus Snape is unable to sleep; a certain werewolf is impersonating Celestina Warbek and cauldrons are used as prevention, sort of.

the week that changed it all: It’s Christmas break in Remus’ 6th year of Hogwarts. Sadly, his parents aren’t home so he has to stay over at Lily’s house for the week. He makes a discovery he didn’t know was possible. The first one was that apparently, Severus lived not far away, the second one was that he started to like the boy.

A Prince By Early Frost: While preparing his chamber for the Philosopher’s Stone, Severus encounters the dark fae borne by a black glass mirror, buried deep beneath the castle. He is chosen, but unsure by what, until over a year later, when a figure from his dreams takes the Defense position, asking for a favor.

Chocolate Cake and Other Intimacies: Remus Lupin is spending his birthday alone in the hospital wing. Severus brings him his homework to cheer him up.

Basically anything by McKay on AO3.

Snape/James:

Knowledge of the Gods: Severus was either in a coma and dying, already dead and trapped in some purgatory, completely and utterly insane, or living in the body of his past self. And, perhaps most suspiciously, why did James Potter keep looking at him like that?!

A Touch, A Kiss, A Whisper of Love: After Severus Snape and James Potter find themselves stuck in an awkward detention together, an unlikely friendship forms. As their newfound friendship develops, James discovers something new about himself while Severus tries to fight his growing attraction to the Gryffindor boy.

Cake, Please!: Slight SA gives me the ick, but vaguely fun to read. A story of blackmail, the wonderful world of sexuality, and lots of cake.

Revenge is Sweet: A teenage Snape plots his revenge on James Potter for making his life hell, but little does he know that James has plans of his own that will send both their lives spiraling irrevocably out of control.

Ninety-Three: James promises Severus that if Severus has sex with him 93 times, he will break up with Lilly and advocate that she date Severus.

Absolution: What is it that draws James to Severus? A disease? A curse? A secret wish... a need? Try as he might to ignore the Slytherin, in the end, to Severus is where James always finds himself. **SLOW BUILD** Rated M for... certain kinds of scenes later on.

The Dreamer in the Well: James got the girl....finally. She even stopped being friends with Severus, whom he absolutely hated. But one day, his curiosity changes everything.

Love Is Strange: At the start of his sixth year, James Potter decides to finally stop ruining Severus' life. His friends agree to stop the bullying but what they do not know is the reason why James decided to put an end to it. They think he just matured or grew tired of it but the truth is a little more complicated than that.

A Fickle Thing: James Potter's marriage is failing- What a perfect time to disguise himself as a muggle, follow Severus Snape to what is either a makeshift dance club or a party for gay muggles, and then do a series of things he really should not do.

Rise: Severus Snape was tired of his fate, to be a lowly snake. Luckily, fate was kind to him this time and the arrival of a tournament had come. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing, a moment of weakness and strength that led Severus to put his name in the Goblet of Fire. But he was chosen now, and he had no choice but to play in the game, maybe he will live or die, but either way he wasn't going to become what everyone said he would be.

Apocrypha: Two can keep a secret, if one of the two is dead.

Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown): Long, loved it, well written. James Potter starts his seventh year with a secret. He has amazing friends, Sirius is always right by his side, Lily is finally starting to warm up to him. His life is an endless cycle of partying and drinking. So what if the Wizarding World is on the precipice of war? So what if Severus Snape has disappeared from Hogwarts? That's not James's problem. Life is beautiful, and even if it's all an illusion he wants to hold on to that dream for just a little bit longer.

Colours of Redemption: Severus Snape was meant to die. Instead he was placed into hell. Trapped in timeloops, Severus tries to make sense of the future knowledge he suddenly had. If he made one bad move, everything is reset for him to try again. Being placed into a new house and everyone being nice to him, Severus is doing his best but it is hard. Especially when James Potter is noticing him in a different way.

Goeey Melting Hearts: In their 5th year James, Sirius and Remus over hear a conversation that makes them reconsider their opinions of the ‘future Death Eaters’. The Marauders stop bullying, but guilt eats at James until he decides to apologize. That summer James tracks down Severus, but sees something that crushes him.

Regulus/Snape:

Burning Doves: The first Snape/Regulus I ever read. Regulus needs help with potions and Snape tutors him. Not much Marauders, they're just offscreen assholes. Narcissa and Severus friendship which I always enjoy. It's done, but I haven't finished it yet. Whoops.

Severus and Snape: Severus Snape finds Lily dead in Godric's Hollow, her son's screams echoing in his ears, and decides to end his life with hers. Fate has other ideas. Next thing he knows, he's facing an 11-year-old Lily Evans, on their way to their first year at Hogwarts.

Snape & or / Narcissa:

Seven Days: Severus knows a lot can happen in seven days. Slash.

Living A Lie: All of her life, Narcissa Black has had to live as the perfect lady, and witch; to never reveal one's inner heart, nor ever go against the wishes of one's family. After being forced into an engagement she does not want during her sixth year at Hogwarts, Narcissa has kept the desires of her heart on ice; particularly, for a wizard her family would never in a million years have approved of: Severus Snape. Even after the birth of her son Draco, she has harbored these desires deep in her heart for the enigmatic Potions Master. But when she comes to Spinners End to ask Severus to watch over Draco at the start of the school term of 1997, she finds that she cannot keep her heart on ice for the wizard of her dreams any longer...

What Lies Beneath: "Please, Professor, I saw him-I saw Snape," Harry said, struggling to breathe, "he's hurt...we've got to find him-we've got to find him right now or he's going to die!" Severus Snape's redemption story told in the span of three books from multiple perspectives.

Snape/Others:

Redemption: Severus died that night at the hands of the Dark Lord, the man he "worked" for and was "loyal", at least that's what the Lord believed him to be, an impeccable servant. Even so, he ended up dying for his master's snake. He knew it would happen, he was sure his time was coming, just like the manipulative old goat's plan. However, what would he do when he found out that he wasn't the only one who had the memories of his past life? How would his life turn out? Better or worse?

Breaking the Mould: Everyone knew Severus' future. Everyone knew he'd become a death eater, maybe get his mastery in potions and eventually die at his master's hand. But what if they didn't know Severus as well as they thought they did? Rather than conform to the role people expected him to play, Severus takes action. During 6th year he leaves Hogwarts, joining an apprenticeship overseas that guarantees not only a future but his own happiness. Meanwhile the Marauders (minus Peter) are left regretting what can never be. They each had a secret, something none of them were willing to admit. Only now it's too late. But what happens when Severus re-emerges during the war? Not a death eater, not a teacher even. But a strong, independent and most importantly a free man. How will the marauders react?

Dinner and a Show: James takes Lily out to dinner, an unhappy evening made more difficult by the arrival of Severus and Lucius Malfoy at a nearby table.

Snape & Others:

O Mine Enemy: Severitus, long. When Harry finds an injured Snape on his doorstep and must hide him from the Dursleys, he has no idea that this very, very bad day will be the start of something good. Alternate 6th summer (and part of the school year): post-OotP; ignores HBP and DH. No slash, no romance. NOW COMPLETE!

I Know Not, and I Cannot Know; Yet I Live and I Love: Severus Snape has his emotions in check. He knows that he experiences anger and self-loathing and a bitter yearning, and that he rarely deviates from that spectrum… Until the first-year Luna Lovegood arrives to his class wearing a wreath of baby’s breath. Over the next six years, an odd friendship grows between the two, and Snape is not sure how he feels about any of it.

Second Life: What happens when two men are given a second chance. Snape & Sirius.

Not Entirely Tedious: Young Professor Severus Snape shows up for a meeting, but the only other person there is the Deputy Headmistress. He wants to leave and return later, after the other participants will have arrived, but Professor McGonagall explains why that is impossible. Cross about having his plans for the day disrupted for a meeting that’s not taking place, Snape resents having to spend the afternoon with McGonagall. She doesn’t seem very pleased, either, but is content to relax and wait. Snape isn’t so patient, and soon manages to annoy his companion.

The Young Potions Professor: The staff avoided him like the plague, ignored him, or straight up left when he went into the staff room. And the worst thing was that they didn't even try to hide their collective disgust for him. If he got into the staff room in the morning and any of them were there, they would immediately get up and go sit on the furthest side of the room, as far from him as possible.

Slytherin Career Day: The student of Slytherin House were born with everything: wealth, prestige and pure wizarding blood. Now it's Severus Snape's job to help them find the one thing they don't have: careers.

In Another Lifetime: HP AU. In a world where Tom Riddle was slaughtered, the wizarding wars did not occur, and Albus Dumbledore promoted peace in Hogwarts, Lily Evans and Severus Snape did the impossible: they remained lifelong friends. Snape meets his potential, and has a shot at happiness along the way.

immortalists with points to prove: The Snape kid is hardly a hero. Then again, neither is Alastor.

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