tension between you and James is on the rise as you reach the last couple weeks of your pregnancy, and insecurity starts getting the best of your husband — dad!farmer!james x mom!reader fluff, hurt/comfort
warnings: reader is quite pregnant, jealousy, worries of cheating (irrational fear here, of course), relationship insecurity, body insecurity, and it gets pretty suggestive at the end
words: 3.7k
Harry ran as quickly as his little legs could take him through the field, over to his dad and the new farmhand so he could invite them in for lemonade you had just made with the kids.
You watched the adorable sight from inside while holding your 18 month-old against your chest. It was hard to manoeuvre while heavily pregnant but Ivy loves being held, and it’s so hard saying no to your little girl.
Harry ran inside first, sporting a proud grin and announcing that he had done as you asked. Since you couldn’t bend down to kiss him, you patted your son on his head and poured him a glass of the lemonade you promised him for calling over the men inside.
Your son happily gulped down the drink and held out his glass, asking for a refill. You smiled and obliged his request. As you poured once again, James strode in while making an exaggerated expression of disappointment.
“You’re supposed to be resting.” He reminded you, as if you could forget.
“I didn’t strain myself making the lemonade, and I got a helper to pass on the message to you boys outside.”
James tousled Harry’s hair, letting him know he was proud. “Good boy, helping your mama.”
“I made the lemonade too!” Harry beamed, liquid rimming his mouth from his forceful downing of the drink.
“Yes, you did!” You turned to James, smiling smugly. “See, it’s basically rest.”
He frowned, disapproving of your decision to keep up with small tasks when your doctor has recommended that you spend most of your time resting until the new baby comes.
“I’m not worried, Jamie.”
“Well, I am.” He told you, gently taking Ivy from your arms and holding her with significantly less effort than it takes you to do the same thing. “I’m your husband, so it’s my job to worry about you. Please go relax upstairs. I can’t relax if you don’t.”
“I can’t see the barn or the field when I’m in bed. I get sad without that view.”
Flattery would not work on James in this scenario, but you could see that it was definitely helping. His face softened and hints of a smile were almost peeking out.
Interrupting your little moment, Jack, the new farmhand walked through the front door.
You turned away from James so you could pour the younger man some lemonade, but he interjected.
“I can get that, Miss Potter. I’m the one working for you, no need to put yourself out in your condition.” Jack said, reaching for the lemonade and an empty glass on the counter.
You heard James muttering an angry “Missus” under his breath, but you chose to ignore it.
Other than the title, Jack was right. He was preaching exactly what you had been upset with James for bothering you about. But you could only be mad at James, since he was your husband and his lectures were constant.
“Isn’t it good, Dad?” Harry asked happily, looking up at his father.
“It’s amazing, Haz.” He said, really to both you and Harry.
Then the new farmhand spoke up with his own testimony to the beverage. “It’s the best I’ve ever had.”
James noticed you looked flattered at the pair of compliments—he hoped you gave his own a little bit more weight—and guzzled down the rest of his drink.
“Alright, love, let’s get you settled back upstairs.” Your husband said, a hand gesturing up to your bedroom, but not for anything fun.
“I think I’ll sit outside for a bit.” You countered. “That way I can still relax like you want me to, but I still spend time with the kids as they run around out there.”
Although James couldn’t theoretically object to that, he knew if he gave you a little bit of leeway by accepting this proposal, you’d go even further with it and that did nothing but stress James out.
You two just stared at each other in a silent standoff, seeing who would budge first. You crossed your arms, and with that, James knew you weren’t wavering any time soon. Your husband sighed, then agreed that you could lounge around outside on the condition that you stayed on the porch swing for a majority of the time.
Satisfied with that, you took your son’s hand and waddled out to the porch, James following while carrying Ivy out so she could sit with you as well.
Your husband tucked Ivy and Harry against your sides, then went back to work out in the field while Jack went over to the barn.
“Mummy, I want to work out there!” Harry exclaimed after a couple minutes of calm cloud gazing.
“You don’t want to stay here and keep me company?”
Harry looked slightly conflicted, and you were sure much of the concern that your young son had for you had been placed there by James. It was sometimes nice to have your husband worried about you, but it felt bittersweet to have Harry do the same when he had much better things to occupy his innocent mind.
“I’m kidding, honey.” You unwrapped your arm from around his side and helped him off the swing. “Go ask your dad if he has anything you can do. He’ll put you to work in no time.”
That was apparently all the boy needed to hear, since he ran off towards his father as soon as the words left your mouth.
You turned to the little girl on your other side and took her little hand in yours since you couldn’t let her sit on your lap in your condition.
“Well, it’s just you and me, princess.”
She looked at you and pouted softly. You could already tell she was a busybody like the rest of the family, and that she would much rather be playing or walking around the farm than sitting on the porch.
“I know, Ivy. I’m bored too, but we’ll get through it. Look at the boys out there.”
You two sat on the porch swing, rocking slightly, for what felt like hours—it was really more like thirty minutes. Ivy’s been babbling for a while, and that’s been the only thing keeping you sane.
Then you noticed Jack walking over towards the house, holding something in a closed fist.
“Hi, Miss Potter.” The twenty year-old began.
“Hi, Jack.” You smiled. “What have you got there?”
“I was cleaning out the hayloft, and I found this old bracelet up there.”
He held out his hand, showing off a dainty piece of jewelry. It was definitely weathered, but it wasn’t necessarily dirty, and you could still see it was silver with a few pearls decorating it.
“Oh, that’s lovely.” You commented. “Isn’t that pretty, honey?”
Your daughter repeated the word ‘pretty’ in the adorable way she does when copying you. Then you brought your attention back to the farmhand.
“I’m not sure how it got there, I’ve never seen it before. Maybe a bird brought it in. I’ll ask James if he recognises it too.”
“Do you want me to bring it over to him?”
“No, that’s alright.” You replied. “If you could bring it inside and put it in a bowl by the sink, though, that would be great. And feel free to get yourself a drink from the kitchen, too.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He shot you a smile as he headed inside the house, politely wiping his boots on the mat before entering and walking around.
You turned towards your daughter, curling her soft hair around your finger as she snuggled up against your hip.
“See that? We’ve got treasure on this farm, baby. We’ve got pearls growing out of the ground.”
Her smile mirrored yours and you thought her expression was so damn adorable even though you knew she didn’t understand at all what you were talking about.
Jack walked out of the house, the quiet creak of the front door interrupting you giggling over your daughter babbling about the farm and wherever else her mind was going.
“All done, Miss Potter.” He reported.
“Thank you, Jack.”
“Thank you!” Ivy spoke up, happily repeating after you.
You fawned over your own daughter, cheering her on for speaking, and while using such sweet manners at that. Jack joined in as well, telling the baby she did such a good job.
Unbeknownst to you, your husband was watching from across the property, a judging expression on his face as he observed you and the young new farmhand being so friendly.
Of course James trusted you. Of course James was glad you were feeling happy after all you’ve been through with this tiring pregnancy. And of course James knew he was better company than some farmhand who was barely older than a high-schooler.
But he knows that you’re smiling at Jack and looking more giddy than you have with James for the past few weeks. He was young, charming, and quite fit. How could James not feel at least a little bit jealous and insecure?
And though James hated seeing it, he was absolutely not going to make a scene. But he was going to do something about it.
“Hey, Haz?” He called to the boy picking—and snacking on—cherry tomatoes.
Harry shot up, a smile on his face and a small tomato in his cheek.
“Can you come here for a second, mate? Bring the basket, please.”
Your son walked over to his dad, carrying over his haul.
“You’re doing so well picking the tomatoes, but I’m worried we’ll have nothing left over if I keep you on the job.” James joked, and the young boy smiled, knowing exactly what his dad meant. “New task for you, go entertain your mum, alright? Keep her company? She can’t do much to play with you, but I’m sure she’d love to hear a story. Think you can do that?”
Harry nodded and darted off to where you and Ivy were sitting on the porch, both enjoying Jack’s animal impressions that he had been putting on to impress the little girl at your side.
He climbed up onto the swing with you again, and you welcomed him with open arms. Well, one open arm, since you were holding Ivy close to you with the other.
“Oh, look whose boredom has been cured!” You teased, allowing him to sit right next to you.
“Daddy said I gotta keep you company.” He informed you happily.
“Did he, now? Well, that’s perfect ‘cause I was just starting to miss you.”
Jack took this reunion as his cue to leave, going back to his work in the barn with barely any acknowledgement as he left.
James, watching from across the property, didn’t even bother hiding his proud grin when he saw everything unfolding just as he had planned. He too went back to his work, only thinking about finishing for the day so he could go back inside with you and the kids—and no dumb farmhand.
Once James had done everything that he needed to do, he headed back over to the house, the whole family wearing matching smiles as he walked towards you.
“Hi, handsome.” You greeted him. “All done?”
“All done.” He replied. He then bent down to kiss you softly. “How are you feeling, lovie?”
“I’m great. Your little helper was doing such a good job keeping me and Ivy company.”
James proudly patted the top of Harry’s head. “That’s my boy.”
Harry grinned bashfully, happy for the validation that he had done well with the tasks he was given today.
“I’ll wash up and then I can make dinner, okay?”
“James—”
He cut you off, knowing exactly what your protest was before you could even start. “I’ll make dinner. Only reason I wouldn’t is if none of you were hungry.”
Shooting him a defeated glare, you stood up from the porch swing and took the kids inside with you, James trailing right behind you all.
“So what are you all hungry for?”
“Cheese sandwiches!” Harry said enthusiastically.
Of course he did.
Since you’ve been pregnant and taking more breaks lately—though you would never tell James you’ve been feeling slightly more tired since you’ve seen how serious he gets about your health—you’ve been making easier meals for the family. And Harry hasn’t been able to get enough of the extremely simple sandwiches you’ve been serving up.
James chuckled. “C’mon, it’s your mother that you need to go easy on, not me. What else do you want?”
But your little boy stuck with his choice, just as you knew he would.
“Sandwiches! The way Mummy makes them!”
James feigned shock and offense, jaw dropped and a hand to his heart.
“The way Mummy makes them? Is the way Daddy makes them not good enough?!”
“Mummy makes them the best!” Harry giggled, pointing at you.
You blew a kiss to your son as you sat your daughter in her high chair.
“Thank you, baby. You’re too nice to me.”
Harry lifted his little hand and mimed catching the kiss and pressing it to his cheek, mimicking what James does every time you blow him a kiss. It was so damn adorable, you blew another kiss just to watch him do it again, and it was just as cute the second time.
But all good things come to an end, and your attention was taken away from the boy by the sound of your front door opening and the sight of your new farmhand walking in.
“Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to let you know that I’ve done all the work for the day, so I’ll be heading home.”
Good riddance, James thought. But you weren’t that mean.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?” You asked, walking over to the farmhand.
Before Jack could answer, James spoke up for him, eager to get the younger man out of your house.
“I’m sure he’s tired and just wants to get home, love.”
You turned to Jack and rested a reassuring hand on his bicep. You were worried about him not eating after a full day of working, but obviously James didn’t see it like that. James only noticed your hand on the young man’s arm, and he saw red. But of course, he couldn’t show it to you. James stood there, silently fuming and hoping that Jack would leave as soon as possible.
“Really, it’s nothing big.” You continued asking your farmhand if he wanted to stay a little longer. “James is making sandwiches, so it shouldn’t take long.”
James stepped in again, even though he tried not to. “Well it’ll take longer if we stand around talking about it.”
Sensing the start of some tension that he would rather avoid, Jack decided staying for dinner may not be the best idea.
“He’s right, Miss Potter. I should be getting going. Have a good night.”
You and the kids waved him goodbye as Jack headed out. James however, did not. But you chose to ignore that for the time being, telling yourself your husband was just eager to end his work day and spend time with his family.
From practically the second the door closed behind the farmhand, James seemed alright. James made dinner, played with the kids, and even took the lead with putting them to bed afterwards.
You were almost willing to look past it and just go to sleep, until James started acting oddly again, just as you were getting ready for bed.
The both of you were running through your normal bedtime routine—which was getting earlier and earlier now that James insisted you needed all the sleep you could get—and you had crawled into bed, getting comfortable.
You expected James to join you soon enough, so you picked up the book from your bedside table and waited as he finished up in the bathroom.
The door opened, and out walked your husband in his sleep pants and a tank top.
“Well, hello there, handsome.” You called, holding out a hand to invite him into bed with you.
“Hi, gorgeous.” James replied with a grin.
You thought he was coming to get into his side of the bed, but he stops at the foot of the bed and sits down on the floor instead.
Although it was more of a struggle than normal, you tried sitting up so you could get a better look at your husband, who was now beginning to lightly stretch on your carpet.
“Jamie, what are you doing down there?”
“Just getting a quick workout in, love.” He said that like it was totally normal, but you thought otherwise. You knew your husband far too well to believe him about this.
“The workout you did all day outside wasn’t enough for you?” You tried approaching it gently, teasing him a bit, because you wanted to keep the mood light.
“No, I just figured I should try to get a bit more in shape.”
“You’re in shape.” You told him with a hundred percent honesty.
He basically shrugged off your response, which only concerned you more. James has always been fit, and even though he doesn’t work out the same way he used to before having kids, he still spent his days doing manual labour, which kept him in great shape.
“Jamie, could you get up, please?”
He stood up immediately, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. He sat down on the side of the bed, not breaking eye contact with you for a single second.
“Is everything okay?” He asks softly.
“That’s what I should be asking you, Jamie. What’s been going on with you lately?”
“What do you mean?”
The question was nonsense, and you both knew it. James had been acting differently than normal lately, and it was impossible to not notice. He was buying time for some reason, and you just wanted to figure out why.
“You know what I mean.” You told him with a defeated slump of your shoulders. “We’re too close for a lie like that to work on me. You’ve been watching me like a hawk, you’ve been irritable, and you seem like you’re trying to prove yourself for some reason. Talk to me, Jamie, please.”
James sighed, knowing there was no way he could, or reason he should, lie his way out of this. Being honest with his wife was far more valuable than his ego. And we’re talking about James Potter here, so that means a lot.
He shifted his form around so that he was face to face with you
“I’m worried I’m not good enough for you anymore, lovie.”
Your heart sank. James has been a little overbearing lately—for obvious reasons—and you’ve been letting him know how you felt, but you didn’t know he had been taking your criticism personally.
“James, I didn’t—”
“No, I know. It’s not your fault at all.” He interrupted you gently, taking your hands in his.
That was so like James. It was exactly what you loved about him—one of many reasons. Even when he was opening up about something that’s been on his mind, he was still trying to comfort you.
“I feel like we’re not as close right now as we usually are.” James continued. “And that’s no one’s fault, it’s just that the house is full of stress with the new baby coming soon, and we’re all adapting every day.”
You took a breath, knowing he was absolutely right. It’s no secret that the family has been full of all kinds of emotions as of late, but you and James haven’t really acknowledged the shifting of your relationship.
“I just can’t help but hurt a little when I see you with the farmhand and you’re gushing over him while he flexes his muscles and showers you with compliments. It reminds me of when we were younger, and I wonder if you would trade our life now for what it was like back then.”
You raised his hands, which were cradling yours, up to your lips and pressed a kiss to each hand.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t know how you felt.” You said softly. “It was nice back then, but it’s also pretty nice now, and I wouldn’t trade our life together for anything in the world.”
Your words seemed to have cheered your husband up a bit, as you saw a smile hit the corners of his lips.
“I promise I only have eyes for you, and you don’t need to do anything other than being your wonderful self to ensure that. I love you, even if I haven’t been showing it much lately. I’m sorry that I made you doubt our relationship, even in the slightest.”
You scanned his face, trying to read his emotions. Usually you were great at this, but tonight there was something a bit off, and you couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking.
Reassuring you that you two were okay, James nodded and leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead.
“I love you too.” He promised, his hands falling to your hips. “I’m glad you still find me attractive.”
“You’re so attractive.” You leaned over—albeit slightly effortfully—and kissed his cheek as you spoke. “James Potter, you’re the sexiest person in the world.”
“No, definitely not.” He shook his head and bit the inside of his cheek.
This humility was unusual for James. Ever since you met, he’s been cocky and proud. He’s incredible in every way, and he knew it.
As he looked up at you and opened his mouth to speak again, you realised the sudden humble attitude was all an act.
“I’m probably second place. You’re definitely sexier.”
You bit back the grin that threatened you, but there was nothing you could do about the blush that flooded your cheeks. You shook your head and gestured to your body that was cloaked in a soft set of pink maternity pyjamas.
“Not like this, I’m not.”
James shook his head again and cupped your face in his hands so he could press a trail of kisses along your jaw. “I think you’re especially sexy like this. And if you weren’t ordered against any strenuous tasks, I’d prove it to you right now.”
pairing: sirius black x afab!reader
summary: you sneak off the night for a cheeky midnight snack, hoping sirius won’t notice (spoiler alert: he does, and he’s sulky about it) wc: 4k
cw: pregnancy & baby talk, descriptions of food and eating, brief allusions to sex (not directly stated), no physical traits of reader specified but sirius can hold things out of reader’s reach
a/n: so i had a lengthy angst fic for sirius’s debut on my blog and im halfway done on it but i cant seem to finish it bc it sends me to a depressing spiral each time <33333 so pls enjoy a very self-indulgent domestic excessively fluffy blurb with my beloved <33333
p.s this is not proofread so plz ignore mistakes ty <3
opening the tomato salsa jar turned out to be the hardest part.
back in bed, you thought the trickiest part of your late night escapade from sirius black was his long limbs wound up tight with yours, even in low light of the small nightlight in the corner, you could still make out the intricate script and designs following the curves and dips of his strong arms, holding you close to his chest.
you had it committed to memory by now, having explored sirius’s body well enough to memorize the way his skin feels against yours, with heartbeats and breaths falling in sync without much effort.
judging by the way his breathing gets heavy after every exhale and the little snores that escape in between, you knew he was beyond knackered. it was day five of sirius’s new job as an deputy director at the auror office. the day he learned about the promotion was pure unadulterated happiness. after letting you know through an express owl, you mustered up enough vigor available to your seven months pregnant self to get out of the house and go to the local shops to get party supplies and food to celebrate sirius’s achievement.
Coming in third out of the list of things he genuinely loved in this life, after you and his luscious locks of course, was his job as an auror. young sirius had never thought in his wildest dreams that he’d work at the ministry, much less actually enjoy it. can’t really blame sixteen year old sirius, starting an underground rock band with the marauders seemed like the perfect thing to do after gruelling hours of studying at hogwarts.
defense against the dark arts came to him naturally, with some counterspells like second nature to him as being exposed with use of dark magic young gave him no choice but to grow up quickly and defend himself from the excruciating pain or the mind control that was from his own family’s doing. Winning the first wizarding war alongside his friends and found family has solidified sirius’s calling in eradicating the use of dark magic and making sure the next generation can have a safe and normal life without the looming threat of a megalomaniac sorting people with their blood status and taking over the wizarding world.
that night, sirius walked into a dark and eerily quiet home that had his senses on overdrive. but when the lights turned on and he saw familiar faces of his loved ones all beaming with pride, and there you were in the center, looking ethereal and round and all his, with his favorite red velvet cake on hand and a ridiculously big balloon that says “congratulations” tied to the candle, he could have melted in a syrupy mess of gooey happiness right then and there if he hadn’t caught himself together last minute.
Sirius had thought– that after you agreeing to go on one date with him to hogsmeade, winning the quidditch cup and seeing the proud look on minerva’s face, going home for christmas break and euphemia welcoming him with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug, remus teaching at the very same classroom you all were in years back, james and lily’s first kiss at the altar, holding little baby harry in his arms, you walking down the aisle with a bouquet of peonies in the most beautiful dress, and when you held his hand that one night and told him that you were expecting—- that he knew of love. but you do something extraordinary that has him scrambling to add to the endless list of why you’re the love of his life. he was so focused on you that he wasn’t prepared to catch pure muscle of james’s body as he flung himself to tackle his best friend in a hug. luckily, remus with a party hat was aptly standing between a toppling sirius and the living room wall, and he singlehandedly saved the two from creating a huge hole in the drywall.
this was the life, sirius had thought after many hours of partying celebrating and eating, when he laid beside you in bed, limbs tangled, sated and dizzy and warm as you both came down from your highs. and he gets to spend it with you.
but as fun and exciting sirius’s new job is, it entailed an increased amount of responsibility as he was assisting the head auror. his least favorite part of the job was the boatloads of paperwork he has to deal with. An express owl almost dropped a howler letter into the soup you were making for dinner earlier that day and you opened it up panicking thinking it was an emergency. But no, it was just sirius whining that his hand hurt and is about to fall off and that he needs you to kiss it better.
You did eventually, and one thing led to another and here you were, tucked in your husband’s warm embrace. you could stay here forever, only separating to drink water and bathroom trips, but the gnawing urge to eat something savory, sweet, tangy, and crunchy has possessed your entire being, the only way to quell it was to get up and go to the kitchen. the baby doesn’t seem to have a semblance of time yet, a fact you both envied and despised, because the clock on your nightstand said it was 3:48am in bold red numbers. A few months ago, you’d never be caught dead awake at this time, taking your precious sleep time seriously. The man himself would poke fun at you and say you’d gladly sleep through an earthquake or a housefire just as long as you get your seven to eight hours of sleep per day, and despite of your assumed role of contradicting and arguing with spontaneous and stubborn sirius, you had to agree.
But this was not about you anymore, or at least not quite yet for a good seventeen years, so you untangle yourself from sirius and your perfectly warm and cool side of the bed and waddle down the carpeted stairs, careful not to set foot on the creaky step that might risk waking sirius up. You need your secrets too, and you’re not in the mood to share food.
Grateful for the heavens that you and sirius stocked up on groceries two days ago, you had a wide selection of random items to munch on. A few days ago, you were introduced to the idea of a fluffernutter sandwich while scrolling through the short videos on your feed. Peanut butter and marshmallow fluff as spreads on their own was something you didn’t mind eating, but both together in a sandwich? You were enthralled, and the only way to quell the curiosity was to make it. So you did.
You shovel and slather more than enough spread on each slice of bread, though you might have used the same spoon on both jars.. but who’s to tell you off otherwise, your snoozing husband upstairs? pfft.
Smiling happily as if committing a particularly naughty crime, you place the spoon in your mouth, licking off the gooey mixture as you place the sandwich on a piece of paper towel (yes, you take the no dishwashing tonight seriously) on the table. humming, you mull over what to prepare next.
The baby needs something savory and tangy, but you’re not particularly keen on going through all the effort of heating up the soup from dinner, not to mention the amount of cutlery and dishes you’ll use for that, so you zero in on the tostada shells you chose rather than tortilla chips because its much more crispier.
Opening the fridge, you see the laughing cow on a round packaging and decide its the one, so you grab two cheese wedges from it.
Sirius had argued that the next aisle had actual, real blocks of cheese with a variety on display and that there was no point in getting artificially flavored ones. But you’ve gotten really good at giving him the stank face, which inadvertently ends 75 percent of nonsense bickering before it even starts; and since you’ve started showing more and more, sirius has admittedly gone softer on you, not that he was ever more but a pushover your entire relationship. Merely widening of eyes and a jut of your lower lip, even adding a slight tremble or two during times where you did actually fuck up, sirius can’t hold his stance longer than a minute before sighing and taking you in his arms. he might call you out for being a brat at times, but there’s no denying he loves it. And so the artificial wheel of cheese wedges got purchased and bagged home, and you’re meticulously spreading it over the golden shells, leaving little to no gaps of it bare.
Laying it on another paper towel, your heart gets giddy on your chest knowing you’re in for a treat tonight. But not quite time to start munching, the baby reminds you that you still need something tangy to complete the meal. So comes your big predicament, should you get dill pickles or tomato salsa?
It took you ten seconds too long of weighing down the pros-and-cons of choosing one and feeling like you made the wrong choice if you end up not liking it. It doesn’t help that the pregnancy hormones make you more anxious and tend to put you always on the verge of tears. So when the not-so-groundbreaking idea of just eating them both hits you, you feel the weight slide off your shoulders as you sigh. Because again, who’s gonna tell you that eating pickles this late at night can give you bad acid reflux, your snoozing husband? Pfft.
Snacking on some, you do manage to pick out the juiciest looking pickle chips and lay them atop of your tostadas. You and the little one are beyond excited to dive in. It’s looking like a mini upside-down pizza with the cheese spread first then the pickle as toppings. Only thing left now was the the tomato salsa slathered on top to seal the deal.
Opening tight lids wasn’t an issue for you before, in fact, you took pride when friends hand you a jar or bottle to open because you could do it in a breeze. Chances were, the lid wasn’t even screwed on that tight, you were just built different, you’d say with a shrug once you give the items back. So when the tomato jar doesn’t budge after two attempts, you get puzzled.
Maybe your hands were slippery? You wipe them down with a tea towel and try again. No.
You weren’t holding it tight enough? Fingers held taut against the lid, you try three times. Still no.
Determined, you try different positions before letting the jar go, shooting it glares as if it’d get intimidated and just open up for you. You were also getting lightheaded, and passing out on the kitchen floor due to excessive stimulation of your vagal reflex because you were too stubborn to use magic or wake your husband up to open it for you doesn’t seem like the best way to spend the early Tuesday morning hours.
Magic was even out of the option (well, in your brain it was), because your wand’s tucked beside sirius’s on your nightstand, and frankly, you don’t have the patience to drag yourself upstairs just to flick a utility spell to open the wretched thing. So you do the next best option: lose hope.
The disappointment was mutual between you and your baby. And the acid reflux did start to kick in, making your stomach grumble in both hunger and pain. This was all going so well until it isn’t, tears began to make its way up to your eyes.
“See, this is what you get for being greedy and eating all snacks by yourself,” sirius huffs behind you, deep voice still raspy with sleep. You didn’t even hear him getting out of bed and coming down the stairs, that’s how preoccupied you were with opening the jar.
He grabs the container away from you to open it, but not without throwing a scowl at your direction, handsome face contorted with furrowed eyebrows and downturned mouth, enough to express that he felt betrayed by this whole ordeal. If you were in a better mood, you’d poke his sides and tackle him playfully, teasing him for being sulky. But for now, you need the jar opened so you could eat in peace. You’ll deal with the sharing food issue later.
“t wasn’t supposed to take long,” you mumble, caught off guard and refusing to make eye contact, pretending the fridge magnets beside sirius’s head is ten times more interesting than his face. You don’t miss his raised eyebrow and snort at your response.
The second attempt comes and he opens it with a satisfying pop. your mouth falls agape, eyeing the *now accessible* tomato salsa dip in disbelief. What the hell?
And you couldn’t even take the smug grin spreading across sirius’s face by the millisecond. Refuse to. You try to snatch the open container away from him but he holds it higher and out of reach, making a show of puffing his chest, flexing his biceps, even giving it a kiss. This is all James’s doing, you need to have a talk with Lily soon about keeping these two separated.
“Sirius!” you try to plead your way out. the trademark innocent, pouty expression settles on your face like a second mask, hoping he’d go down this easy.
It doesn’t work. He just chuckles, mocking your pleas and face while his free hand sneaks up and pinches your unsuspecting cheek to tease you further.
You yelp in mock outrage and swat his hand away, trying your best to keep your displeasure firm on your face, but you feel the giggles coming up. “This is why I sneak out alone to eat, you’re such a bully,” you huff, but take a seat in front of your makeshift spread.
Sirius places the jar near you, but not without poking your exposed sides, armed with the knowledge that the easiest way to get you laughing (and eventually conceding in an argument) is knowing where your tickle zones are. “Oh yeah,” he drawls, plopping himself beside you. “That’s also why you’re the only one waking up with an upset stomach, stinking up our bathroom so early in the morning.”
Now this one got you appalled, embarrassed, disturbed, basically hit with all the feelings. You’ve been living together long before you got married, and he never brought up this issue until today. “That’s it. I’m leaving.” He makes a move to snatch the sandwich away but the embarrassment on your cheeks made you more agile, swatting his hand away and shielding the sandwich with your hands. “After I finish my meal,” you continue, shooting him a glare.
But see, one of the things that drove you nuts even way back at Hogwarts, was how Sirius Black mostly managed to outsmart you or be one step ahead of you in everything. After you turned him down without much thought whatsoever despite his grand declaration of interest, Sirius took it upon himself to show you (1) that you made a mistake for rejecting him, (2) that his ego won’t let you embarrass him like that again, (3) and that you won’t get rid of him that easily. Once he set his eyes on you, you were face to face with him in everything: grades, OWLs/NEWTs scores, Quidditch plays and bets, wins at the duelling club, even with the fucking gobstones tournament. He never let you catch a break.
Things were surely different now, since you vowed to be with him in sickness and health and untill death parts you both– hell, you’re carrying his child. So you figured maybe, maybe, he’ll let you catch a break this time. Let you eat in peace as you mull over his bathroom comment and how you’re going to get him back.
But again, no. Unlike you, Sirius remembered to grab his wand from the nightstand. Not even batting an eye, he says nonchalantly, “Accio sandwich.” And the fluffernutter you protected with all your physical might managed to escape your watch, and land gracefully on his waiting palm.
What irritated you more from this whole ordeal? The prodigal auror that climbed his way up the ranks and became the youngest deputy director, fully capable of complex spells and wielding different kinds of magic, felt the need to do a verbal Accio spell just to make a point to you.
Out of words, you just stare at him blankly. Too stunned to even cry in frustration because you knew you made a conscious, willing choice to be with this man.
Maybe your best guilt-tripping expression comes best when you’re not trying. Color drains from his face when you remained silent and he scrambles to take a bite off the sandwich before handing it back to you, or rather placing it on your limp hand as you refuse to acknowledge it, still too hurt to budge. “‘m sorry, baby. Just wanted to eat with you since we didn’t get to earlier.”
He did arrive later than usual, deciding to finish the stack of case files and paperwork so he won’t have to sift through them again the next day. There were plans to wait for him before eating, but when the jitteriness and slightly nausea started to kick in, you had no choice in the matter. Sirius had been sulky and clingy the moment he got home, and as compromise, you stayed to watch him eat; listening and reacting animatedly as he ranted about his stressful day.
So you cut him off some slack, also exhausted from all the emotional stimulation sirius brought since he woke up. As a silent peace offering (also because you’re not ready to say sorry to his face), you slide the tostadas within his reach and finally take your bite of the goddamn sandwich. It was good, tasted as expected, sweet peanut butter. You’d probably have it again as a drunk at 3am meal.
Sirius also went and got snacks of his own: microwaved popcorn, pickles, toasted bread slathered with butter, and grapes. Together, you munched on the little spread of random food you could find in your kitchen at 4am in comfortable silence, which is surprising after the earlier bickering. No matter how cheesy it sounded in your head, sirius was the only person that can drive you to the brink of insanity and right back. You were in for a hell of a ride for the foreseeable future; and while there’s a lot of uncertainty right now and changes to be made when the little one gets here, you’re beyond happy that you get to do all this with him.
Sleep was beginning to creep up on you. Of course he notices this right when you do, so a warm arm wrapped across your back urges you to settle on his lap, bodies melding into the familiar crevices like puzzle pieces, though you both had to adjust certain angles to accommodate your growing belly. You sit like this for a while; your head tucked securely in the crook of his neck, steady breaths lulling you to sleep, while sirius’s hands instinctively finds its way under your sleep shirt and on the natural curve of your belly, lithe fingers stroking and drawing soothing circles anywhere he could reach.
you wish you could stay like this forever– cozy and soft and safe– but alas, you were carrying sirius black’s offspring. the baby decides to reward you with a round of kicks, probably giddy after feeling their father’s touch. Sirius chuckles and coos at your bump, while a muffled groan leaves your lips from the sudden onslaught of movement, but still refusing to move from this comfortable position.
Smooth cold lips touch the side of your forehead and you relish in the feeling. “Does it ever hurt, love? All that kicking and wiggling?”
“Not really,” a content sigh leaves your lips. “Feels strange at times, seeing your belly move on its own.”
To prove your point, two tiny bulges make a split second appearance just above where Sirius’s hand lay. His thumb soothes the area lovingly.
“Definitely getting stronger though; Lily told me during the later months, harry for some reason loved to kick downwards, making bathroom trips more frequent than it already is. Not excited for that.”
He presses kisses on your forehead, temple, hairline, anywhere he could reach without moving too much. “Things that you do and endure for this ‘lil troublemaker,” sirius murmurs. He doesn’t need to say it out loud, you could feel his body reverberating with awe and fondness. You try to bask in it for as long as you could, but a passing thought makes its presence known to you again.
“Do i really make the bathroom stink?” it comes out whinier than you intended it to be but you just had to know for peace of mind.
Sirius’s whole frame vibrates as he tries to stifle his laughter, taking you with him. He’s laughing at your expense but you feel your own giggles brewing in your belly. You try to hold it in for longer, preserving some self respect. “A little bit,” he says solemnly. You groan, earlier mortified feeling returning in full swing. It triggers another round of chuckles.
“But dove, it’s nothing that my deep love and adoration for my lovely strong hot and sexy wife can’t handle.” He says assuredly, and you curse yourself for being so down bad for this man as blood rushes to your cheeks from his words. Good thing it’s dim and your face is still tucked in the crook of his neck.
You do pinch his arm in response, and both your laughters compliment the comfortable silence.
“Although,” he says after a while. “The betrayal of you eating without me still hurts.”
“Siri.. i’m sorry,” you mumble. “‘y looked so tired, Didn’t wanna wake you up.”
He tuts and doesn’t say much after that. In sirius dictionary, this means he just wants some affection from you— for you to dote on him and coax out his forgiveness, even if you both know he’s not really mad; judging by his arms still wrapped securely around your frame and steady breaths that tickle and fan on your bare skin.
So you mimic his actions from earlier, planting tiny kisses on his neck, collarbones, jawline, anywhere your lips could reach. Kissing his cheek seem to do the trick, his fake scowl quickly coming undone as a bashful smile breaks through the frown, and his tiny dimple you love so much making an appearance. The muggle maternity books did say dimples are genetic, so an image of a little Sirius running around and smiling up at you with those dimpled cheeks is a warming thought.
“I am charming all the lids to be stuck at night as soon as i wake up tomorrow for work.” You poke a sensitive spot on his side, making him jolt, but you couldn’t resist laughter as it bubbles out of the surface. “You’re insufferable, I can’t believe I married a psychopath.”
“And you let him knock you up too. I’d say it takes one to know one, hm?”
(5) Poly!marauders as girl!dads where their daughter is lost
Wordcount: 1.9k
It started with Sirius kicking James off the bed.
Literally– one well-aimed shove and James thudded to the floor with a loud “Oi! What was that for?!”
"You were hogging the covers," Sirius mumbled, face buried in the pillow.
James grumbled, rubbing his hip and glaring at the clock. 8:17 AM. Far too early for violence. Or arguing. Or–
His stomach dropped.
“Where’s Daisy?”
Sirius cracked one eye open. "What do you mean, she's in her room, idiot."
“No– she came here last night! Bad dream, remember?”
In the armchair, where he had been quietly reading (because of course he was), Remus froze. His book slid from his hands.
“When I woke up... she wasn’t here.”
The room went still.
Sirius sat bolt upright, hair sticking in every direction. James' heart hammered painfully against his ribs.
They both scrambled out of bed, knocking into each other and Remus, and tore into Daisy’s room.
Empty.
The tiny pink bed was perfectly made, her stuffed Hippogriff tucked under the covers like it was mocking them.
“Oh fuck,” Sirius whispered.
And then came a run through of the whole house with panicked screams from Sirius and "DAISYYYY MY CHILD??? ARE YOU IN THE PANTRY??". No she was not.
Remus ran a hand through his already messy hair, pacing. "Think. Think. She can’t Apparate– she can barely tie her shoes. Where would she–"
Then they saw it.
A trail of black soot, leading from the living room floo container, across the rugs, into the fireplace.
James went cold. “The Floo.”
"She tried to Floo?" Sirius said, eyes going wild.
The next second, all three of them were elbowing each other out of the way to reach the fireplace.
James grabbed a handful of powder, nearly dropping it in his panic, and flung it into the flames, bellowing the first place that made sense. "The Burrow!"
Green fire roared up, and the familiar cozy kitchen of the Weasley house spun into view– along with a very startled Molly Weasley, who dropped a mixing bowl with a clatter.
She barely had time to open her mouth before all three Marauders practically fell through the fireplace, shouting over each other.
"IS DAISY HERE?!"
"WE LOST HER!"
"CHECK UNDER THE TABLES!"
Molly blinked at them, utterly bewildered. "What– ? No! She’s not here! What do you mean, you lost her?!"
James looked half a second away from fainting. Sirius was already tearing cushions off the couch. Remus checked under the dining table with the wild-eyed desperation of a man hunting for his soul.
Molly, realizing the full scope of the emergency, gasped and clapped her hands sharply. "Fred! George! Ginny! Search the backyard! Bill, go upstairs– look in the attic, look everywhere!"
Like a well-trained army, half the Weasley children shot off in different directions, shouting at each other, a blur of red hair and panicked voices.
Molly rounded back on the Marauders, eyes blazing. "Where was she last seen?! What was she wearing?! Do you have a tracking spell on her– tell me you have a tracking spell on her!"
All three men froze.
"...We were going to get around to that," Sirius said very weakly.
Molly looked like she might murder them herself.
Just then, Fred skidded back into the kitchen, panting. "She's not in the garden! George checked the broom shed– nothing!"
The three men exchanged wide-eyed, white-faced looks.
Remus, voice tight as piano wire, asked, "If she’s not at home and not with you... then where the hell is she?"
CUT TO:
Daisy Potter-Lupin-Black, all of six years old, wandering Diagon Alley with a lollipop in her mouth, completely unbothered.
She pressed her face to every shop window, nose smudging the glass, marveling at the twinkling lights and broom displays, smiling a wide mouthful of gappy, missing teeth at every suspicious-looking adult who dared glance her way.
Absolutely living her best life.
...
Back at home, chaos reigned.
James was already halfway into the fireplace, Sirius was pacing a trench into the carpet, and Remus was muttering things that sounded suspiciously like complicated death threats– and not even in English anymore.
"Diagon Alley," James barked suddenly. "We know she's obsessed with the sweet shop there–"
"And the owlery!" Sirius added frantically, grabbing his jacket.
"Alrightyy, here we go– mission: locate Daisy," Remus muttered grimly, heart racing fast.
They practically fell into the Floo, shouting, "Diagon Alley!" and tumbling out the other end like panicked clowns.
...
Meanwhile:
Daisy was having the best morning of her life.
She had already successfully:
- Convinced a group of third-year Hogwarts students she was lost (they bought her a pumpkin pasty and then immediately lost her again).
- Pet three illegal magical creatures.
- Attempted to shoplift a Fanged Frisbee (got caught, flashed her biggest innocent smile, and got a discount instead).
She was currently sitting on the curb outside Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor, swinging her legs and eating a triple-scoop sundae the size of her head.
THAT'S when she spotted them.
Her dads.
Barrelling down the street like three very distressed, very dangerous-looking thunderstorms.
"Daisy Potter-Black-Lupin!" James bellowed loud enough to rattle the windows.
People turned. Owls scattered. Shopkeepers peered put nervously.
Daisy calmly took another spoonful of ice cream.
Sirius skidded to a stop in front of her, dropping to his knees, clutching her shoulders like he was checking for mortal wounds.
"ARE YOU OKAY?! DID SOMEONE TAKE YOU?! DID SOMEONE TOUCH YOU? DO I NEED TO KILL SOMEBODY?!" he shouted in one breath.
"I'm fine," Daisy said serenely, licking her spoon. "I wanted ice cream."
James stumbled up next, nearly crying. "Baby, you scared the bloody hell out of us–"
Daisy blinked up at them, utterly unbothered. "I left a note."
There was a beat of stunned silence.
"You– you left a note," Remus repeated faintly.
"Yeah," Daisy said proudly. "On the fridge."
Another beat.
"But... you can’t write?" Remus said weakly.
James groaned and buried his face in Sirius' shoulder.
Remus looked like he might actually sit down and weep right there on the cobblestones.
Sirius, ever the dramatic one, threw his hands to the heavens and declared, "We have raised a menace to society."
Daisy just smiled sweetly and offered him a bite of her ice cream.
...
Just as Remus was trying to pull himself together and James was dramatically mumbling about how he was going to need a blood replenishing potion after this, the fireplace inside the ice cream parlor flared violently green.
And out stepped Regulus Black, looking crisp, cold, and extremely judgmental.
He dusted imaginary soot off his immaculate robes, gave a sniff of disdain at the chaos before him, and said coolly,
"I was told there was an emergency involving my god-daughter."
His sharp grey eyes landed on Daisy, happily swinging her legs and still munching her triple-scoop sundae, completely unconcerned by the three frantic men practically collapsed around her.
Regulus blinked.
Once. Twice.
Then he slowly turned his head toward his brother and said, deadpan, "You're all idiots."
James let out a wounded gasp. "We were worried about our DAUGHTER, Reg! She could have been kidnapped!"
"Eaten by a dragon!" Sirius added dramatically.
"Or arrested for grand larceny," Remus grumbled darkly, eyeing the mischievous glint in Daisy’s eye.
Regulus looked skyward, clearly questioning whatever deity had burdened him with such ridiculous family members, before he crouched neatly in front of Daisy.
"You," he said, voice sharp and smooth as a dagger. "Why did you attempt to floo to my home at seven in the morning?"
Daisy beamed at him. "I wanted to show you my drawing!"
She pulled a very crumpled, slightly melted piece of parchment out of her pocket. It was a stick-figure drawing of Regulus (labeled Uncle Reg) holding hands with her (labeled Daisy Best Girl Ever) in front of a massive ice cream cone. All incorrectly spelled.
For a terrifying second, nobody moved.
Not even the air dared stir.
Then–
Regulus' face twitched. The tiniest twitch.
A barely-there crack in his pristine, emotionless exterior.
"...I see," he said stiffly, taking the melted picture with two fingers like it was the most precious royal decree.
James made a noise that suspiciously sounded like an awwwwww.
"You're grounded," Regulus announced coolly.
"You can't ground our daughter!" Sirius squawked.
"She's OUR daughter," James added indignantly.
Regulus ignored them all. He lifted Daisy effortlessly off the curb, wiped a bit of ice cream off her nose with a handkerchief, and said, "Come. I will buy you another sundae before these three incompetents faint from stress."
Daisy squealed happily and hugged his neck.
Meanwhile, the Marauders stood blinking in the street, completely forgotten.
"...Did our daughter just ditch us for Regulus?" Remus asked faintly.
"Yes," Sirius said, voice hollow.
"And betrayed us for more ice cream," James added, equally hollow.
There was a long, solemn pause.
Then all three men nodded gravely at once.
"Respect," said Sirius.
"Respect," agreed James.
"Respect," finished Remus.
They dusted themselves off, resigned to their fate, and trudged into the ice cream parlor after their tiny, fearless traitor.
Hiii congrats on your new job, we love a employed queen 🙌. I hope I’m not bothering you with requests my marauders brainrot is taking over. Could I please perhaps request headcannons and whatnot about the boys as dads, individually and/or the different polys you write for? If that’s alright, your latest fic brought this on I suppose 😭. Bye bye now lovely, enjoy your dayyy
marauders brain rot is taking over for me too babes, no worries.
James:
cries constantly. baby is upset? he's crying. baby is adorable? he's crying. baby learns something new? James is crying.
tummy time is daddy time because James is on his stomach in front of the baby too - his partner will make jokes saying that James and their five month old are working on their gross motor skills together
loves playing pretend; get's in arguments with the child if he doesn't think they're imagining 'properly' (his partner has to scold James for ruining the fun)
the dad-friend; kids will run up to the door to ask if your kid and James can come outside to play - plays manhunt, nickie nine-doors houses with the kids, is the best dad to go trick-or-treating with, his kids friends come over to hangout with his kids and him
cries at every single milestone: first steps, first word, birthdays, plays/awards or recitals or sports games etc, graduations, first dates, school dances etc
begs his partner the second his kids move out for more (regardless of how old they are at that point) "we can adopt! yeah? what about foster - why don't foster kids? please?!"
then he becomes a grandpa and the whole damn thing starts all over again
Sirius:
I see Sirius as a bit of a worrier - constantly in his head about what he's doing, if he's doing it right, if he's being a good enough dad, etc etc
stuck like glue to the kid the second they're born - takes night time feedings and every diaper change because he doesn't want to be absent like his dad (and maybe mother? probably had nannies in muggle AU or relied on Kreacher for child rearing) -> Sirius wants to be there for it all; he wants his child to know that their dad was there
does stuff with the kid that's a little too old for them lol - five month old wearing a leather jacket, buys a motorcycle helmet for a 1.5 year old (partner had none of it!), buys them their first bike at 3, etc
BUT then....as the child get's older - refuses to believe that they're that old. "a cellphone?! what do you need a cellphone for!? you're seven!" "dad, I'm 13." "since when!?!?!?"
definitely wants his kids to learn how to play an instrument (he doesn't even care which instrument; he just wants to share his love of music with them!) but doesn't want it to be a chore/burden like learning the piano was for him and Reggie (and many children world wide lol), so gently encourages through out their whole life and buys them any instrument they're interested in and let's them change their minds 700 times (even though it breaks his heart a little bit each time)
pretends not to cry when he sends them off to school (in kindergarten or college in muggle AU or Hogwarts)
cheers the loudest and most obnoxiously at all sports games/recitals/awards etc even if he has no fucking clue what's going on (OMG, I just thought - I used to work at a dance studio and he was be the best fucking dance dad!!!!!)
known as the cool/hot dad amongst his kids' friends
Remus:
so incredibly freaked that something this small and perfect could possibly exist - moves in slow motion for the first month of the babies life because he's afraid of dropping it or shaking it unintentionally
talks to the infant like it's a regular person/adult; running joke in the family (i.e., friend group) that the baby won't have a first word - they'll just one day start stringing full sentences
swears constantly in front of the kid - one of their first words is fuck which Sirius and James find hilarious and never let Remus forget it (and they actively encourage the kid to continue it too because they love to see Remus sweat every time it happens)
insists the kids know how to play outside and get dirty - (jokingly) admonishes them if they come inside after playing and don't have dirt under their finger nails.
loves to build forts (inside and outside) and I could see him liking to hike with the kids (nothing huge, but down to streams and such), teaches them to catch (and release) frogs, bugs, etc, they take pictures of bugs they find on their walks so they can look them up when they get home
reading, arts and crafts, paintings, etc
keeps every single painting and drawing they've ever made - keeps them in a filing cabinet organized by child, age, and type
if James is the fun dad, Remus is the chill dad; all the kids in the family go to him for advice, if they are in trouble (e.g., need a ride from a party that their parents don't know about), to complain about their own parents
never not telling the kids how much he loves them and how proud he is of them
Regulus:
runs immediately to James and Sirius for advice - does not want to be an apathetic parent
deep anxiety/lots of overthinking
very gentle and delicate with his babies - afraid of hurting them and finds them to be just the most precious little things...like they're sacred and need to be handled with the utmost care
keke & I headcanoned that his partner would often find him in the middle of the night playing the piano quietly with the baby laying on top of the piano to feel the calming vibrations if he got up with them
reads baby books and parenting books front to back like they're novels - takes notes, highlights, stickie notes etc
LOVES STRUCTURE - routine is so important to Regulus as a dad; his friends end up needing to learn his child's schedule in order to ever see Regulus
his kids may find him to be a bit more strict, but he's also a bit of a pushover; will buy his kids whatever they want - his partner ends up having to yell at him and tell him that he's going to raise spoiled brats....he buys them a diamond tennis bracelet to make up for it
works really, really hard to be different than his parents; Sirius tells him constantly that he's doing a very good job of it (and they both pretend that Reg doesn't cry about it)
Barty:
had a bit of a chat about this in this post, but basically...
the most hands on and involved dad to ever walk the earth - will not go to any place that isn't child friendly or catered to children
the most proud of everything that his kid does: sits up on their own? can hold their head up? holding a fork? knocks over a block tower? can point to their nose? He's fucking celebrating, like, throwing a party over it
I could see him being like an instagram dad - constantly taking pictures and bragging about how awesome/smart/cute/perfect his kid is (but his partner had to tell Barty to stop telling other parents that this meant their kids were inferior to his......even if they were)
get's faaaarrrrrr tooo involved with playtime, one of my mutuals made some really sweet comments on the post linked above that I might turn into a quick blurb
cannot for the life of him be bad cop - he thinks everything his kids do is awesome/spectacular (even the bad stuff) -> tries to play it cool in front of his partner/co-parent but will absolutely fold the second they leave or the kid's lower lip wobbles or the give him those doe eyes
most hated parent on the PTA [parent teachers association] but volunteers for everything - every school field trip, every bake sale etc
fucking ridiculous when his kids start dating - no one is good enough for them, pouty when the kids want to spend an evening or whatnot with their new fling instead of him
takes it as a personal offence (or at least acts like it) when the kids move out/go to college
what do you all think? any other head canons I should add to this list?
could you guys send me request on what you want me to write about for poly!marauders, Poly!jegulus, wolfstar x reader, dad!marauders, bfd!marauders, and any other things you want me to write about in the marauders fandom. Even any of the slytherin boys in both golden trio era (i.e Mattheo Riddle, Theo Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Enzo Berkshire) and marauders era. I would really love to write out your request!!!!!
A/N: the timeline of this story is a little messed up but i guess it around februari or march :)
It was way past midnight as you lay in bed listening to the sounds of the night. Far away a cat cried and the wind was howling around the house, but the streets had gone to sleep hours ago. As had Sirius, his right arm lazily slung over your waist, but you had not been so lucky. Ever since you had lain down in bed, all sleep that you had felt during the evening had left you. You had been staring at the wall for hours now, luring the sleep into your system, but nothing had helped—you were still awake.
Very carefully, as to not wake the man behind you, you slipped from the sheets. Shivering as your feet touched the cold floor, you sat up and kneaded a knot out of your shoulder; a small, relieved breath leaving you as you felt your arm relax. You looked back at Sirius, but it seemed he had noticed nothing. His arm was lying aimlessly on the mattress, the place where you had just been lying, and his fingers curled into a fist as a huff of air passed his lips.
When you had first gotten together with Sirius, the sounds he made during the night had kept you awake for hours but now you had gotten used to them and you could even say that they brought you comfort. Falling asleep in a completely silent room felt wrong to you now. You would miss his hot breath against the back of your neck or the fingers that moved over your skin while he did not even realize. Some nights, when he was especially restless, he kept you awake, but you never told him, knowing he would feel guilty while there was nothing he could do about it.
This night, however, it was not Sirius who was keeping you awake. You had been tossing and turning before he had even fallen asleep.
Your fingers ran over the back of your neck and you were surprised to find the dampness of sweat there. You were not even hot, but as you concentrated you found that your entire body was warm and sticky. Sighing, you ran a hand over your face. The pregnancy had been having some effects on you already and now it seemed it had found something new to pester you with.
Silently, you got up from the bed and pulled a jumper from the chair in the corner of the room as you walked out of the bedroom. The hallway was colder than the bedroom and you longed for the comfort of your bed, but you knew that you would eventually wake Sirius with your restlessness and you wanted to let him sleep peacefully.
You chose the kitchen as you destination and carefully treaded down the stairs, making sure you avoided stepping in the middle of the last step, that always creaked. Even in the dark you knew your way through the house perfectly and you were quite certain that even with your eyes closed you could have found your way to the kitchen.
Upon visiting the house for the first time, you had fallen in love with it. Others might have found fault in the small spaces and steep stairs, but you had seen yourself there with Sirius. Maybe it would not be your forever-home but that did not matter. This was the place you wanted to be now, with the living room full of books and plants and the kitchen never quite big enough. And there was never ruling out the possibility that you would be old and grey and still climbing that narrow stairwell every day. In fact, you even enjoyed that thought.
Sirius had left open the window above the sink after dinner and a soft breeze blew in your face as you stepped onto the tiled floor of the kitchen. You welcomed the fresh air with closed eyes and a deep breath and you felt immediately better.
It was not until you had pulled the jumper over your head that you realised it was Sirius’s. His heavy scent, mixed with the lingering smell of your dinner, washed over you like a warm blanket around your shoulders and you held the collar to your nose, just breathing him in for a moment. He smelled like smoke and the cologne you had gotten him for his birthday and the gel he used for his hair. Although he had changed cologne and gel multiple times since you had started dating, there was still that smell of him that had stayed there for all those years. A scent that you had trouble naming, but could pick out of a thousand others.
You placed both hands on the counter and just stared outside. From the window in the kitchen you could look into the garden. Small like the rest of the house, but one of your favourite places to be. In the summer you had enjoyed many warm nights under the tree in the corner, book in your hand and legs stretched out under you in the grass. Some nights Sirius had been working in the garden, something that had become his hobby after you had moved into the house, or he had been lying with his head in your lap. Closed eyes and nose scrunching whenever you scratched your nails over his scalp.
You could not wait for next summer, when it would no longer be just the two of you, but a third little one there too. The doctor had told you that your due date was in June, so there would be plenty of summer time to enjoy after your baby arrived.
The calming thoughts made you relax more, but still they did not bring you sleep. You made a cup of tea for yourself and just watched the dark garden with your hands wrapped around the hot mug.
Lost in thoughts, you did not notice Sirius entering the kitchen until two hands wrapped around your waist and a chin was placed on your shoulder.
“Why’re you awake, darling?” Sirius mumbled, his head heavy on your shoulder. You heard the sleep laced through his voice and your heart warmed at the fact that he had woken up and searched for you.
“Couldn’t sleep,” you said, one hand releasing the mug to bury your fingers in Sirius’s hair. He sighed softly and his head drooped even more. “Did I wake you?”
Sirius shook his head, though if you hadn’t felt it you wouldn’t have noticed. “No, your absence did.”
You chuckled softly and moved your head to look at Sirius. He had his eyes closed. “Sorry,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple.
Sirius only hummed and he moved his hands under the jumper, resting them on the small bump that you had gotten. His thumbs caressed your bare skin and you had to bite the inside of your mouth to not shiver, even though Sirius’s hands were always warm.
“’S everything okay?” Sirius asked, still not opening his eyes.
“It’s fine, love.” You took a sip of your tea. “I just couldn’t sleep.”
Sirius was silent for a while and then he said, “You’re warm.”
You couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that flew from your throat. Sirius’s head bounced on your shoulder as you laughed and his hands flinched on your belly. He released a long breath, but you could tell it was not of annoyance.
“I know,” you said, patting Sirius’s head with your free hand. “Something else to bother me. I thought being pregnant would be fun.”
“Lily did warn you.” You could hear Sirius’s grin without such as a glance.
“I should’ve listened to her,” you mumbled. “Still, I would take this and a hundred times worse if it means our baby is safe.”
Now, Sirius did open his eyes as he lifted his head off your shoulder. His hands slipped from your belly and instead took the hem of the jumper you were wearing as he stepped in front of you. In the darkness you noticed the glitter of his eye.
“I’ll stand by your side all hundred times. Hundred and one, this one included.” He flashed you a smile, hands letting go off the jumper and wrapping around your shoulders. You barely had enough time to put the mug of tea down before it spilled over Sirius. “I’m so proud of you, darling,” Sirius mumbled against the top of your head.
You closed your eyes as you buried your face in his chest, hands flat on his back. Once again you were embraced by his scent, even more now it was actually him and not just his jumper. You breathed him in for a while, relaxing in his hug and wondering how you had even gotten so lucky that this was your life.
“Come back to bed?” Sirius asked, stepping back and taking your hand.
You smiled. Even after so many years of being together, the simple questions like that could make you feel like you were a teenager in love again. Although you liked the relationship you were in now much better than what you had had with Sirius when you were only seventeen, you did not mind going back in time once in a while. A reminder that what you had fallen for at age seventeen was still there, but now so many times better.
Sirius led you back to the bedroom, where, as soon as you had lain down, he wrapped his arms around you again, pulling you close to his chest. Your legs entangled with his and listening to his heartbeat you finally felt that sliver of sleep finding its way into your body.
“I love you, Sirius,” you mumbled, not even sure if he was still awake or already asleep.
His fingers, however, dug into your skin as he pulled you even closer and his breath was hot on your skin as he muttered. “Love you more, darling.”
Now, you did fall asleep and you did not wake until it was way past sunrise. But still, you were in the only arms that you ever wanted to be in.
