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captain-lessship · 2 years

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Toffee Pt. 3: Professor

You were walking the platform, having agreed to watch the students, specifically the first years get on the train. You were talking to a familiar face when you saw a ginger-haired and a dark-haired pair of boys, you did a double take.

"Ronald Weasley!" you said, smiling.

"Professor! How're you? You get to teach Fred and George, good luck."

"Aw, those two are my favorites! I am excited to see you around, Ronnie. If you and your..." you looked at the boy that was beside him and a million memories flashed into your mind. Her laugh, his laugh, his hair he combed with a little too much gel, her eyes that glowed hot with hope, her smile, his smile. You smiled, "Your friend ever need anything, do not hesitate to ask!"

Two ginger suck up behind you and screamed making you, turn around and swat at them. "Oh, you two! Always causing issues, aren't ya?"

"C'mon Professor Show Harry the bird!" Fred said.

"Unless you've gotten rusty, that is! You're what 3-" George stop when he saw you pull out your wand and a coin, "George if you know what's best for you, you will not finish that sentence." You threw the coin into the air and smiled as you swished your wand, turning the coin into a bluebird that fluttered up to the light to roost. You looked at Ron and Harry.

"You will learn a lot of magic at Hogwarts. You should have fun but," you thought about all the trouble James got into, "try not to get in trouble, dearies."

And one of the first things they did was get in trouble. Alerted by your students looking out the window, you watched from your tower in bewilderment as Harry seemed to be taunted by a blonde boy. Along with your students that were now crowded beside the windows, you watched as the blonde threw a ball of some sort and he flew and caught it with skill no first-year-first lesson should have taught. You would have a talk with him later but as he landed, Professor McGonagall walked out and took him off. You knew Gryffindor was searching for a new seeker and you grinned as you thought about him on the quidditch pitch.

You silenced your students before returning to face the blackboard, "Alright alright, shows over! Back to your seats, you have an ess- George, put that can opener down."

"You got eyes in the back of your head Professor."

Eventually, your class was over and you were walking to the Great Hall, book in hand. You stopped when you came to a certain window: It was where you and Remus would meet and sneak up to the astronomy tower. You smiled as you thought of your husband but scowled, he should be here teaching instead of doing hard labor that made his hands calloused and cracked.

You would return to him over the holidays as it was your rotation turn to go home. All the teachers had agreed to draw lots years ago that were marked with numbers between one and three and whichever you drew, that was your group. Having drawn a two, you had to stay last year but you would return to your quaint little house for Christmas. It was very early to be thinking about it but you grew excited. You were so caught up in thought until you heard your voice, you jumped and looked to see a short-haired girl in a Gryffindor robe.

"Apologies, Do you need something?"

"I have a few questions about your class and what it includes."

You were confused since the girl had to have been a first year, "Oh I don't think you ne-"

"I know a lot about muggles, being muggle-born, will that make it to where I can't take your class?"

"Oh, no, it won't. "

"Okay! Thank you, Professor. I'm Hermione Granger." She extended her hand and you reached for it. Something about her reminded you of yourself.

"Don't worry about my class, Miss Granger. It's two years away. You need to focus on the ones you have and enjoy your first year."

"I will! I will, Professor Lupin, I will."

You and the girl walked to the Great Hall, talking about her classes and how you'd be willing to tutor her during your free period, which she gladly accepted. You saw her to the Gryffindor table before smiling and waving bye to her as she sat down and you walked to take your seat at your table.

"Oh my god, Professor Lupin is just amazing! She offered to tutor me!" she shook with excitement. Harry looked at Ron.

"Isn't she the one we saw at the platform?"

"Yea. She is a family friend"

"You know her?!" Hermione asked Ron.

"Yeah, She always gives Mum Christmas cards and cookies."

The Twins nosed into the conversation, "Yeah, Ron used to have a crush on her." Fred said, queuing George to speak as well, "You cried for days when Mum broke it to you you couldn't date her"

"I was like four, I didn't know any better!" Ron justified.

You giggled and shook your head as you overheard the conversation, you sipped from your cup before turning to Severus, "So... I heard you fussed at Harry."

He looked up from his food with an irritated expression, "He's just like his father."

"Have you even talked to him?"

"No. You haven't either."

You rolled your eyes at him, "Hating him won't hurt James." you scoffed.

He just stared at his cup, you sighed, it was hard for him especially since you, him, and Albus had agreed not to talk about it with Harry and not seek out conversations about his parents and what you knew about them. You both thought it was a great disservice but agreed. Your job, with all students not just Harry was to keep them safe. But Harry seemed to have trouble following him.

You held your hands tightly together as you watched the Slytherin versus Gryffindor Quidditch match. It was the first match of the season and Harry's first-ever match. And it was not looking good for Gryffindor, they had lost their Keeper, Oliver Wood, and two of their chasers. You didn't like preferring one house over the other but you were loyal to Hufflepuff first and Gryffindor second so you were cheering them on and wearing Remus's Gryffindor scar from your school days that he had sent when you wrote to him about it in advance.

Suddenly, Harry's broom seemed to be acting weird, you looked at the people beside you, and questions of how and why were floating about. You pulled out your wand, subconsciously readying yourself to cast a spell to grab him before he hit the ground but you smelled burning from a few rows down, you saw that Snape's cloak had lit ablaze and he was stomping it out. It distracted the people in your stand from the fact Harry was now on his broom chasing the Golden Snitch. You watched as he dipped to fly just above the ground and crashed. You let out a yelp and an Aw. Harry stood up, dirty and looking as if he was going to hurl but instead of his breakfast, it was a golden sphere. Cheers erupted from everyone. Except for the Slytherins.

You were sipping your drink when Qurriel ran in, screaming about a troll, in the dungeon until he reached the end of the house tables and fainted. You stood up and grabbed your wand but Dumbledore erupted with a 'Silence'. He ordered the houses to go back to their common rooms. You hurried to the Hufflepuss tables to count heads with the Prefect and Professor Sprout. You walked with them until you noticed a pair of boys running off to the girl's bathroom. You alerted Sprout and went to get your fellow Professors.

You were packing up your personal items when you heard a knock on your door, "Come in!" you chimed, your voice rich with excitement. You had received a letter from Remus and you missed him terribly. In stepped your favorite not-yet-student, she seemed as if she too would be returning home from the holidays judging by the bag she was were and trunk you could see just outside the door.

"Professor, can I ask you a question?"

She was a very curious girl so she was going to ask whether you said yes or no, "Of course, what is it?"

"Say... Hypothetically, if someone got caught in the restricted section, how much trouble would they be in?"

You were surprised, "Well, Most of the time it is detention for two days but every case is different. Things such as who caught them, their reason for being there, and whether or not they broke curfew often increase or decrease the punishment. A lot of things need to be taken into account." you swished your wand, locking a few cupboards. You looked at her and saw an odd expression on her face.

"What is it, Miss Granger? Were you expecting me to go authoritarian on you and tell you that you will be strung up near the Whoomping Willow?"

"Sort of."

You laughed, "Oh dear, I did all sorts of things and I have a personal rule that I will not greatly punish a student for something I did unless they are doing it to purposefully cause harm to themselves or another student. What do you need from the Restricted section?"

"It isn't for me, well it kind of is but it's for Harry Potter." She said, "I won't have time to read it before time to leave."

You sighed, "That is a problem. I am also leaving for the holidays, you know, got to get home to the family."

"Do you have kids?" she asked, looking at the picture of you and Remus on your desk. It was taken when you were at Hogwarts during your graduation. You and him were hugging and laughing because minutes before

"No, No I don't."

"Is he your husband?"

"Yes, he is."

"Why don't you wear a ring?"

"I have a deep fear of losing it. It was his grandmother's ring and it is a size too big for me." you pulled the necklace from under your robe. You pulled it from your neck and handed it to her.

She gently held it and looked at it before returning it to you, you put it back on and reached for your tote bag. "Well, I must be off. Have a Happy Christmas, Hermione."

"You too, Professor."

You had a gift to deliver to a special someone.

You stomped your feet off on the outside mat before knocking on the door. Your face was hurting from how hard you were smiling, you were happy to be home and happy to see Remus. You heard the door unclick and it opened to reveal your man: Remus John Lupin. You practically tackled him, squeezing as if you let go he'd slip away. You pulled back to grab your suitcase and shut the door.

"Where are the cookies?" you asked, smelling gingerbread in the air. You looked at him and noticed a weak smile instead of his iconic 'missed you' one. That meant one thing. He seemed to be in slight pain as well. You sat your suitcase down and put your hand on his forehead.

'I am fine. They're in the oven." he said, trying to perk up. You shook your head.

"Please go sit down at least."

"But-"

"No buts. I will finish up the cookies and I will make us dinner." You took off your coat and slipped on your house slippers that stayed by the door. He reluctantly hobbled to the couch and sat down, feeling more tired than he thought he was. He felt so guilty for being this way and depriving you of a normal holiday season. Luckily, it was almost over and he'd be all better by Christmas Eve.

He sighed gently as he looked around the living room: It was painted by both of you, you had put up pictures and he'd organized the several bookshelves. You both had disagreed about the furniture layout at the start but you had eventually agreed on two comfy armchairs on either side of the fireplace and a three-person sofa further away, separated by a coffee table. He loved it because it was shared between him and you. Almost twelve years of memories, love, and happiness were in this house.

He stood up and went to the kitchen to see you mixing up the icing and coloring it. He just watched for a minute until you notice him. "Rem, I thought you were going to take a rest?"

he smiled as he walked to the plate of undecorated cookies that were cooling, "I would but fresh out of the oven gingerbread calls me." he said picking one up and blowing on it before he took a bite. You rolled your eyes.

"We could take a small break while they cool. I really need to unpack, wash my clothes, clean up and fix this disaster," you said, pointing to your hair. He fanned his mouth as he went to the fridge and grabbed the milk, "You better n-" he popped off the cap and took a swig. You have him a look that made him and he flashed his smile, making you huff but grin.

You and he walked through the kitchen and the living room, grabbed your suitcase, and went up the stairs to your bedroom. When you got to the bedroom, you sighed happily. It was your favorite place in the house. It was a very personal place and it was a safe place, you and he decorated every room but you took extra care with it. Remus was skilled at woodworking and made the bed frame, chest of drawers, and wardrobe. He was so good at it that he sold pieces that the house didn't need. You walked to the end and flopped down face first on the quilt your mother and you had made. You were so happy to be home.

"So," Remus sat down beside you, "I think you should get changed into pajamas and take that nap with me. Dinner time is a social construct, we could eat at eleven at night."

You lifted your head off the bed, "I would love that but-"

"Nope, we are going to talk about your day, get cozy and take a nice long nap."

You rolled over on your back, looking up at the ceiling. "Fine. Pajamas, here I come."

"I washed a pair fresh. They are up in the wardrobe on the right side."

You smiled, he and you had grown accustomed to both of your quirks. He had to sleep near the door, he couldn't stand the smell or taste of uncooked tomatoes and had to cut his own hair because no one else could do it right. You had to have matching dishes, had to wear your earrings so you could fiddle with them, and couldn't stand cold floors so every room had a rug of sorts.

You opened your wardrobe and pulled your yellow chemise-style sleep dress out and went behind the folding partition to change. Remus, having been home from work for a few hours, had already changed into his sleep clothes and house robe. He simply untied the robe and hung it on the back of the door and slipped off his slippers. He returned to the bed and folded back the covers before getting under them. You were changed at this point and were making your way to the bed, he folded back the covers for you and you slipped under them, exhaustion filling you. You had been up for hours since you were too excited to sleep, the long train ride didn't help and it was always comforting when you laid on your own bed, in your own house with something better than a pillow to snuggle up with. Speaking of that, Remus had looped an arm around you and pulled you closer.

"How have you been? Despite what your letters said, I know it's stressful."

You sighed, "It's very stressful but I love it. I love the students and my fellow staff though some of the students drive me up the wall. I had to save Draco from a pit, Harry nearly died during a quidditch match, Ron falls asleep in the halls, Hermione is going to go grey by the time she's sixteen, and my poor boy Neville is terrified of his own shadow."

He laughed, "Sounds like a fun group. Picked a favorite?"

"I don't pick favorites."

"It's Hermione, isn't it."

"Don't tell a soul but yes. She reminds me of myself at her age."

"Oh dear lord, she must be insufferable."

"Aw, shush! You decided to marry me so I couldn't have been that annoying and she is a very nice kid!" you swatted at him, making him laugh again. A comforting silence fell over the two of you. You missed him so much that just being around him seemed to ease the stress and make you feel as if nothing in the world could ever be going awry. You missed when it was like this and you wished it could stay like this forever.

You were calmly sitting in the infirmary, gently whispering a story to Harry. You got intense flashbacks to you rocking him and re-telling him Rumplesteelskin. You smiled to yourself as you also thought about James and Lily. You brushed some hair out of the boy's eyes to keep him asleep a while longer.

"You should not do this to yourself." you heard a voice say. You raised and straightened up.

"Albus, You know that I have to. He will need those memories to know he was loved. They are precious and I have so much to tell him." You looked at him, "I was lucky enough to have known them and now, I have been trusted with the ones he'll need and I will protect him from the ones he won't."

The old man's eyes grew soft behind the half-crescent moon spectacles. "I understand but it is important that Harry, the best he can, has a normal life."

You laughed sarcastically, "We are wizards and he is strange even for one of us. Normal isn't in the cards."

He grinned, "Let us walk. He needs rest." He turned and you stood and strode to him, turning to make sure the boy was still asleep. You closed the door gently.

"You miss them, dear friend. I know. You feel an obligation to be just as friendly with Harry as you were with them." He said.

"Obligation? No, not really. I see it as a courtesy. I, in a way, feel as if I stole their time together." you said, looking sadly at the ground.

"No. You gave them more with what you did."

"Tell us where you bitch!" one of them called out, blasting you with another painful beam. You cried out in pain. It was the third time and you felt as if you were going to break your bones from how violently you were thriving about like a trapped snake.

"I- No! Nev-" The spell hit you again and you let out another ear-piercing scream.

"I don't like to think of that." you said, feeling a certain word they cut into you and let scar down your back. 'Mudblood.'

You were sitting in your chair, to the left of Severus when Dumbledore stood to announce the winner of the House Cup. You smiled as you looked to the Slytherin table; while you hadn't been a Slytherin, you loved some of the students in the house, and your work best friend and actual friend, Severus was the Head of Slytherin. Of course, you weren't expecting Dumbledore to begin awarding last-minute house points. You couldn't help but laugh, which you covered politely with your cloth napkin when Gryffindor stole it right from under them.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Miss Granger?" You said, walking with the class to the train with Hagrid as he had a habit of trailing after lost pets and not watching students.

"Do you think I could take your class next year? I heard you can make special recommendations."

You laughed a little bit, "Not two hours since your first year ended and you are already thinking about your next one."

"Well, I miss it already."

You smiled, "I know. I call it First-Year Syndrome. Had it myself. "

Harry looked at you, "What were you like as a first year, Professor?"

You sighed, pleasant memories coming back. "I was a very studious girl but I had my fair share of mischievous irks. I also was a sucker for a bribe, which I would not recommend you all be."

You looked at the three children and you seemed to get a premonition about them. You knew you'd see them again, yes but you knew they'd been seen together a lot. Harry is brave, and caring but has a thirst to know who he is and be who he wants, not caring about anything else. He reminded you of Sirius. Ron, although he could be stirred onto a different path, he was always here. He reminded you of Peter. So did his rat, kind of. You watched them get on the train and watched as it pulled out of the station, leaving you and Hagrid.

"You know what?"

"Whot?"

You felt as if James and Lily surrounded you and waved goodbyes well.

"I am getting a slight feeling of deja vu."

"I personally think it's a stupid idea," you said at the staff meeting.

"No one said it was ours nor that we get a say. It's what we, as a school, have been asked to do." Dumbledore said.

"I am with Professor Lupin. Why should we be expected to implore the aid of those creatures? If we need more help, Albus, we should do some more measures to protect them, yes but those things have a mind of their own. We could increase night duties, and protective spells and strictly enforce the curfew and maybe a buddy system!" Professor McGonagall said.

"I know. I really do have my hands tied. I rather not have them here but I fear what would happen if they aren't. We must return to our classes, students will arriving soon. We will talk about this next free period." He said. With a mixed grumble of approval and disapproval, they walked out, leaving you.

"Albus." you said, walking to his desk, "You know-"

"Professor Lupin. I can't do anything more."

You frowned "You know he's innocent! Why have you not said anything!" you said.

"Because of reasons."

You huffed, "An innocent man spent years in a literal hell for your reasons!"

He just looked at you, the look that let you know you weren't going to get anywhere with him.

"Professor Lupin, let's change the subject." he said with a smile, "How do you feel about having another Professor Lupin teaching here?"

You sighed, "We'll talk about Sirius later and I am," you paused, smile growing, "Rather excited."

You were in the Great Hall, watching the Sorting Ceremony. You glanced at your husband, who was fiddling with his shirt. He knew DUmbledore was going to make him stand. You gently touched his thigh, making him look at you. You gave a comforting smile and a thumbs-up under the table. He gave a scribbled smile as the last name was called.

Dumbledore told the students of what you and several other teachers were despising, The Dementor Division. They would be guarding the grounds of the castle but would not interfere with activities or lessons. You clenched your jaw, 'Of course, they won't...until it suits them."

He then introduced your lover, He awkwardly stood up and leaned a little bit. He hated being pointed out to a huge crowd. You clapped as he sat back down. Finally, dinner had begun, your eyes caught that of your favorite set of Twins, they did a kissy face at you and you raised your eyebrow at them. You then saw Hermione who was looking at you, then to her friends. You smiled to yourself as you raised up your cup. Remus leaned to whisper something to you, making you laugh.

"Aww! They're so cute!" Hermione said.

"Do you think he's a good teacher?" Harry asked, ladling out some of the soup.

"I think he will be. Apparently, he was up for Head Boy when he was here." Hermione said.

"He's been here less than an hour and you already know everything about him!" Ron said, eating a chicken leg.

"She told me about him. They really love each other from what she told me."

Fred decided to join the conversation, "The Lupins are very sweet, even on their own so it makes sense that they would be perfect for each other. Though, Remus is a lot more reserved than his lovely wife."

"It's gonna get confusing calling them both Professor Lupin, innit?" George said.

Nevile, who was overhearing this, chimed in agreement "What if you mean on Lupin but you mean the other?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders, "I guess we're going to have to use their first names too. Professor Remus Lupin. She gets plain 'Professor Lupin' privilege because she was first."

You were cutting a piece of cake from the black forest cherry one that had appeared, you handed it to Remus. He thanked you as he raised his fork to it and cut a piece off of his slice and held it up to you, you ate it and smiled.

"We will need to thank the House Elves later. All of it was lovely," you said, watching the student's dishes slowly disappear as they finished.

You and Remus finished your cake and stood up, he held out his arm for you to take. You did so and you two walked out the side door and out to the small foot path that took you around to the courtyard. You softly sighed as you both walked.

"Did you miss this place?" you asked.

"I did. I am happy you talked me into this."

"I told you my ideas are always good."

He rolled his eyes lightly. "Not always. But most of the time."

You laughed and he just looked at you, your sweet smile and lovely laugh. He looked into your eyes as the two of you walked. Enjoying each other. You looked up at the moon, it was Waning.

You and Remus had agreed to walk with a group of students to Hogsmeade. Remus had recovered from a full moon and finally felt like going out places. His chocolate stash was running low and you were going to get ingredients to make toffee.

"Draco!" You yelled, "Leave that boy alone!"

He was bothering Neville. You sighed as you walked to the boy, Remus following you.

"Thanks Professor."

"No problem, Where are your friends?"

The nervous boy rambled on about Honeydukes and how everyone always hung out in there instead of going to other places as he walked back to it.

You watched him go before looking at Remus, "Well, a little someone told me about the Boggart incident."

"Harry-"

"No, Neville. What you did was sweet."

"What did I do?" He said, grinning.

"You know."

"He is a good student and I was merely showing him that."

You looked at Remus, a gentle snow falling around him. "You are so sweet."

"You would've done the same."

You and he talked a little more until you stopped and pointed at the ground, mysterious footprints were appearing in the snow. You were about to run to the footprints when Remus grabbed your shoulder and pointed to two familiar students: Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. You stilled as you watched them try to follow the cause of the footprints. You looked at him, "You don't think that he has the," your voice lowered to a whisper, "the cloak?"

"It's the only thing I can think of that would allow him to do that." he said, watching the door attentively.

"Out of all the bloody possible heirlooms." you groaned lightly.

Remus looked at you, "Well, I guess we wait out like how they are. What on earth could he want from in there?"

"Your guess is just as good as mine."

You both waited for about fifteen minutes, talking with each other about all the things you both got up to during your days with the cloak. You stood up when you saw Ron and Hermione stand and follow what Remus guessed were the footprints. You followed the group until Remus tapped your shoulder and pointed to the path you guys used to take to sneak to Hogsmeade. You both ran up the path and by the time you got to the edge of the treeline on the other side, harry had taken off the cloak and was talking to Ron and Hermione.

"He was their friend!" the boy yelled out. You looked at Remus and saw on his face that he knew exactly who the boy was talking about. Sirius.

You were brushing your hair as Remus paced the room. His thoughts were radiating out and you could almost feel anger, confusion, and a drip of helplessness. You turned away from the mirror. "Remus. You're going to make holes in the rug." You stood up and walked to where the man had now stilled.

"I am sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about."

"It's unfair. How are we expected to just sit around and listen to all the rumors about our friend! He wouldn't take it if it was one of us." he grabbed his cardigan and walked to the door.

"Remus? What are you doing?"

"I am going to tell Dumbledore exactly what needs to be done."

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arrestedforhomestuckcrimes · 1 year

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What's your "Should have realized that was neuroatypical" habit from childhood? Mine was/is reading cookbooks cover to cover.

#Rolad Dhal cookbook my childhood beloved...#Domestic goddess cookbook and the frugal gourmet <3 #There was a red and white checkered one too. Built like a three ring binder.#Don't remember the name of that one #Those were the main ones from childhood #These days we're more focused on the DnD cookbook #The harry potter cookbook #The Woks of Life is good and VERY helpful for me #Love their char siu pork #Just downloaded a new one to my kindle <3

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x0xomady · 3 months

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cowboy like me

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summary: cowboy!h x cowgirl!reader. harry just loves taking care of his pretty wife.

a/n: sooo i got kinda domestic when i wrote this. if housewife/simple life stuff isn’t your thing then please just ignore this story. remember no ones making you read it!

warnings: 18+, this is just disgusting smut, pet names, housewife kink, p in v, oral female receiving, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, creampie, objectification, kinda degrading behavior.

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the aroma of different meats and vegetables i’m stirring around fills the large kitchen as i stand at the stove mixing. the short white sundress i have on slowly sways and brushes my legs as i move around the kitchen happily.

my gaze travels out the windows that surround the kitchen, showing off the wonderful view of the pasture fields outside. there are cattle, horses, and little chickens running around the field grazing or just wandering.

the house itself is built on a small hill overlooking the field. it is big, but not oversized, made from beautiful dark oak in the outside, with stone brick outlining the outside. the windows are large and plenty, and a wrap around porch surrounds the whole house.

harry and i had designed the house together when we first got married. both of us grew up in texas, we just wanted a little piece that we made together.

the pasture field that surrounds the house is massive in size. it stretches out all around as far as the eye can see, full of rolling hills and trees. the sky is a beautiful bright blue, and the air smells of grass and soil in the hot texas air.

at first when harry asked me to marry him and move out to the country side, i was reluctant to say the least.

being born and raised in a huge city, i never wanted to live anywhere but a big urban environment. but now living here? i can’t imagine being anywhere else.

maybe it’s that i like the nature, or maybe it’s because i like seeing harry in nature. even now, after being married to harry for 2 years, i still love watching him working in the field with the horses.

as i’m standing at the stove, i hear familiar footsteps make their way up the porch and into the house.

harry walks into the kitchen behind me. he looks overworked and exhausted. he stares quietly at me as i cook, his deep green eyes following my every move.

“hey h. how was your day?" i ask, glancing over my shoulder at him.

harry leans back against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed over his strong broad chest, watching me.

“long. hot. tiring.” he mutters, his voice deep and gruff. harry is the type of guy that gets overstimulated and frustrated. he gets tired of the heat and just shuts down externally, not telling me what’s going on.

he stands at the counter with his eyes focused on the ground, his shoulders leaning onto the cabinets behind him. he looks up at me through his curly brown hair, green eyes unfocused.

“it’s just… really hot out there.” he mutters, sighing with frustration. i can see the tension in harry's stance. the heat seems to get to him more then he lets on.

“come over here.” i say gently, stirring the skillet on the stove, keeping my eyes on him.

harry pushes himself off the counter and steps forward until he is standing behind me. he places his strong hands on my hips, his chest pressing into my back.

“damn heat.” harry mutters, his deep grumble making his chest rumble. he leans down and presses his face into my hair, his arms circling around my waist and pulling me back into him.

i can’t help but smirk at his grumpy attitude. no matter how big and intimidating harry tried to act, he always turned into a puddle of whines when it got hot.

harry presses his face into my shoulder, burrowing himself into me and grumbling softly. despite his tired and cranky mood, i can’t help but giggle at him being pouty.

“you’re such a baby when you get hot.” i tease him gently, stirring the skillet.

harry groans in response, his grip on me tightening.

“you try working the fields all day in the heat and see how you feel, baby.” he mutters, his voice muffled against my shoulder. “i got your pretty ass sitting inside with the a/c on all day long.”

i laugh lightly at his remark. i continue cooking as harry clings to me from behind, his arms around my waist like he’s holding onto a lifeline.

“you should just stay inside with me then.” i offer jokingly, glancing over my shoulder at him.

harry pulls away and reaches his hand up shutting off the stove. he turns around so he’s standing in front of me with his back against the counter.

“but i gotta make money so you’re sexy little face can sit here in tiny dresses.” he hums, his hands roaming under the skirt of my sundress and up my thighs.

i smile softly as his big hands run up my thighs, his fingers tracing up to my hips. my face heats up as his hands slide up to my waist and pull me close to him.

“you always use that excuse.” i giggle watching as harry looks down at me.

harry smirks and leans down, his hands gripping my hips and pulling me flush against him, his chest pressing into mine. his face is close to mine, our noses almost touching.

“it’s a valid excuse baby. how else can this pretty little dress get paid for?” he teases, his voice low and deep.

i can feel the warmth of harry’s body against mine, his skin hot from working in the sun all day. i look up at his face, those green eyes staring into me.

“i know you like me just sitting around in these little dresses all day, dont you?” i tease back.

harry’s hands slide down to my thighs, lifting me up so i’m sitting on the edge of the counter, my legs straddling his waist.

“damn right i do.” he whispers, his hands roaming up under my dress again.

harry's hands move up my thighs, his fingers tracing the edge of my underwear. i can feel the heat building between us as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against mine in a soft, teasing kiss. i wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he deepens the kiss.

his hands move up my back, pulling me even closer as he presses his body against mine. i can feel the heat of his skin through his thin shirt, and i can't help but let out a soft moan as he continues to kiss me. harry pulls away slightly, his eyes meeting mine as he smirks.

"such a pretty girl for me, aren't you baby?" harry looks down at me and brushes his nose against mine, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. his eyes lock onto mine, the green sparkling with amusement and desire as he takes in every feature of my face.

i feel my heart skip a beat as he gently nips at my bottom lip, his teeth grazing against my skin and sending a rush of excitement through my body

As Harry's gaze lingers on mine, his hands begin to wander, slipping from my skirt to my chest, his thumbs gently brushing over my nipples through the thin fabric of my dress. My breath quickens a little as he teases me.

as harry's thumbs continue to tease my nipples, i can feel my body responding to his touch, my breasts growing heavier and more sensitive. he leans in closer, his warm breath whispering against my ear, "i want to fill you, baby, make these pretty little things swell up.” he mumbles as he squeezes my chest.

i whine slightly and press myself further into harry's touch. he grins, his green eyes darkening with desire as he takes in my reaction. his hands move down my body, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my underwear and pulling them down.

as harry removes my underwear, i can feel the cool air against my skin, making me shiver. he leans in, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispers, "i want to taste you, baby.” he falls to his knees on the kitchen floor, his hands gripping my thighs as he spreads my legs open.

i gasp as his hot breath hits my sensitive skin, my body gleaming with anticipation. he leans in closer, his tongue flicking out to taste me, and I can't help but let out a soft moan.

harry's tongue continues to run along core, his hands gripping my thighs as he holds me in place. i reach down, my fingers tangling in his hair as i hold him in place, my hips rocking against his mouth.

harry's scruffy beard brushes against my inner thighs, the sensation sending a jolt of sensitivity through my body. i let out a soft gasp as his tongue continues to explore me, his hands gripping my thighs tighter as he holds me in place. harry hums against me and nudges his nose against my clit.

“how could i have something this pretty working?” harry hums against my core, his tongue pushing it’s way against my folds. “you were just made to sit here and let me taste you after a day at work, weren’t you darling?”

my hands tighten in his curls at his words, desperately trying to get him closer. “yeah just for you.”

harry smirks and pushes my thighs open wider. his rough hands hold them tightly against the counter as he licks along my center. “that’s right baby, just sit there and take what i give you.”

harry’s lips make their way from my folds to my sensitive bundle of nerves. he looks up at me with his bright green eyes as he sucks my clit into his mouth. i gasp and press my thighs against his head, my fingers tangling in his curls as i hold him close.

i moan, my voice barely above a whisper. “oh god, harry.”

he hums against me, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through my body.

harry's eyes never leave mine as he continues to work his magic. "come for me, baby," he murmurs against my skin, his breath hot and heavy. i can feel my orgasm building, my body tensing with the overwhelming feeling of his mouth.

his tongue moves in a slow, deliberate rhythm, his eyes locked on mine as he continues to bring me closer to the edge. i can feel my body tensing, my breath coming in short gasps as i desperately try to hold back. but harry's not having it.

he doubles down, his tongue moving faster, his fingers digging into my thighs as he holds me in place. with one final flick of his tongue, i'm done for. i cry out, my body shaking as i come undone. harry's lips curl into a satisfied smirk as he watches me come apart.

"good girl," harry murmurs, his lips brushing against my sensitive skin. he kisses my folds one last time before scooping me up and carrying me upstairs to our bedroom.

i hold onto him, my body still recovering from the aftershocks of my orgasm. harry lays me down on the bed, his eyes never leaving mine as he climbs on top of me. he leans down, capturing my lips in a slow, hard kiss.

harry's hands roam my body, his fingers find my nipples. he smirks against my lips as he pushes his thumbs on the buds. “fuck baby… i can’t wait to get you pregnant.”

he trails his lips down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin as he makes his way to my breasts. he takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting down gently as i arch my back, my fingers tangling in his hair. he moves to the other nipple, giving it the same attention as i whine beneath him. he moves his lips back up to mine, his tongue darting out to taste me.

harry pulls back from the kiss, his eyes dark with desire as he gazes down at me. he reaches down, unzipping his jeans and pulling himself out. he's hard and ready, his length straining against my thigh as he positions himself at my entrance.

"you ready for me, baby?" he murmurs, his voice low and husky. i nod, my body aching for him as he taps the head of his cock against my clit teasingly.

“mm… no. i need to hear you darling.” he smirks as i whine and writhe underneath him. his thick length runs along my folds slowly. harry hums, pressing his length against my entrance. "say it, baby. tell me what you want."

i bite the inside of my cheek to hold my cries. "i want you, h. i want you inside me."

"that's right. such a good girl for me." he kisses my forehead before pushing his hips up, his thick length slowly sliding into me. i gasp, my body stretching to accommodate him, as he fills me to the brim.

harry's eyes lock onto mine, his gaze burning with intensity as he begins to move. no matter how long we’ve been married for, it’s always a tight stretch when he starts.

his hands cradle my face, his thumbs tracing the curves of my cheeks as he whispers sweet nothings against my lips. "you feel so good, baby. so tight and warm."

harry's hips rock gently, his length inching in and out of me in a slow, deliberate rhythm. i moan, my body trembling beneath him as he whispers sweet nothings against my lips. his thumbs continue to trace the curves of my cheeks, his fingers tangling in my hair as he holds me close, eyes never leaving mine.

his gaze is intense, burning with desire as he watches me, his pupils dilating with every moan that escapes my lips. i feel his chest press against mine, his heart pounding in time with my own as he buries his face in the crook of my neck.

"how'd i get so lucky, hm?" he kisses my neck softly as his hips thrust into me deeply, kissing my spot with his tip. "got such a pretty little wife. gonna make such a good mama." his voice husky with desire as he continues to move inside me.

i whimper, my body clinging onto his as he hits that spot again, his fingers tangling in my hair as he holds me close. his thrusts become more insistent, his length swelling inside me as he builds towards his own release.

harry's hands slide down my back, his fingers digging into my skin as he grabs my hips and flips me onto my stomach. i gasp, my body jolting with the sudden movement, as he pulls my hips up and back, positioning me on my knees.

his rough hands grip my hips tightly as he slams back into me, his cock filling me completely. i cry out, as he continues to pound into me, his thrusts becoming more and more insistent.

harry's fingers dig deeper into my skin as he pounds into me, his cock slamming against my most sensetitve spot with every thrust. his hands slide up my back, his fingers tangling in my hair as he pulls my head back

"you're gonna look so pretty when you're all full of me, darling," he moans out and grabs my hips tightly with his rough hands, holding me in place as he slams into me.

harry's hand slides from my hip to my clit, his fingers rubbing against it in slow, deliberate circles. i moan, my body trembling beneath him as he continues to thrust into me, his thick cock filling me completely. his fingers move faster, his touch becoming more insistent as he rubs my clit, his movements matching the rhythm of his hips.

i feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge, my body trembling with every touch, every thrust. harry's breath is hot against my ear, his voice husky with desire as he whispers sweet nothings against my skin. "that's it, mama. come for me."

as harry's fingers continue to work on my bundle of nerves, i feel my body tensing up, my muscles tightening as i teeter on the edge of release. his thrusts become more urgent, his hips slamming into me with a force that sends shockwaves of pleasure through my entire body.

“cmon pretty girl," harry groans against my skin, his voice low and husky. "let me feel you come apart on my cock."

with a final thrust, harry sends me over the edge, my body convulsing as i cry out his name.

harry's thrusts slow down as he reaches his climax, his body tensing up as he buries himself deep inside me. i feel his cock twitch and pulse as he releases inside of me, his hot come filling me up.

"that's a good girl. take it all in your pretty little cunt, darling," he groans as he fills me up. his eyes are transfixed on my center as the extra come drips out of me around his length. he holds himself deep inside me, his cock still twitching with the last remnants of his release, as he gazes at the sight of his cream spilling out of me.

he slowly pulls out of me, his eyes never leaving the sight of his come dripping down my thighs.

"so fucking pretty. gonna make the prettiest mama in the whole world," he smirks and scoops the come that dripped from my center before pushing it back in, his fingers sliding in easily after being stretched out. i whimper, my body still reeling from the aftershocks of my orgasm.

harry gently flips me onto my back, his eyes never leaving mine as he moves me. he positions a pillow underneath my hips, lifting me slightly off the bed.

"gotta make sure it sticks, darling," harry says with a smirk, his hand still buried between my legs. he slaps my thigh teasingly, his fingers still moving inside me, making me whimper. he leans down and kisses my forehead, his lips lingering on my skin for a moment before he pulls away.

he lays back down on the bed, his hand still between my legs, his fingers still moving inside me. he watches me with a satisfied smirk, his eyes never leaving mine as he continues to move his fingers inside me.

“n-no h i’m too sensitive.” i shake my head and try to push his hand away from my core.

harry hums and shakes his head with a smile on his face. “shh… just let me take care of you mama. gotta make sure that pretty little womb of yours opens up.” he continues to move his fingers inside me, his touch gentle yet insistent.

i can feel myself getting wetter, my body responding to his touch despite my protests. he leans down and captures my lips in a slow, sweet kiss. i can feel my body getting closer and closer to the edge, my muscles tensing up as i teeter on the brink of another orgasm.

"that's it darling. come one more time for me and then we'll go eat, yeah?" he kisses my forehead and gently moves his fingers inside of me. his touch is soft and deliberate, coaxing my body to respond once more.

i feel my body betraying me, responding to his gentle touch despite my initial protests. my hips involuntarily rise, seeking more of his practiced touch, and a soft whimper escapes my lips as his fingers dance across my swollen clit.

his breath is hot against my ear as he whispers, "that's it, darling. let go for me." i feel my body tense up, my stomach tightening as my orgasm crashes over me.

harry's fingers continue to move inside me, drawing out my pleasure until i can't take it anymore. i sigh in satisfaction and relax onto the bed. harry gently pulls his fingers out of me, a confident smirk on his face as he watches me come down from my high.

“well shit” i giggle softy as harry presses a kiss to my cheek. “if we didn’t get it that time i don’t know what will.”

harry chuckles softly, his breath warm against my cheek as he presses a gentle kiss to my skin. "i think we did, darling," he murmurs. “let’s go eat baby.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆⭒˚｡⋆

mwah hope you liked cowboyrry! requests are open :)

-xoxo

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ellecdc · 6 months

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⚡️ - angst, ☀️ - fluff, ⛅️ - hurt/comfort, 🌶️ - smut/spicy, 🌈 - crack [comedy] 🫧 = elle’s favourites

The Winner Takes it All (you don't need to compete for the boys) ☀️ ->The Loser Has To Fall (companion piece) ☀️ Swim Lessons (meet cute with swim instructor marauders) 🌈 When One Door Closes (the boys support you as you end your toxic relationship)⛅️ Sweet Tooth (you love baking for the boys, and they love you) ☀️ Overthinking (you're convinced they're mad at you) ⛅️ Our little gremlin (fem!readers sense of humour) 🌈 Sirius' Arch Nemesis (fem!reader finds a kitten) 🌈🫧 The Sound of Music (muggle born gn!reader x poly!marauders) ☀️ Two Steps Forward (fem!reader struggling with mental health, hurt/comfort) ⛅️🫧 Marauders + your younger sibling headcanons It's been you? (when they find out their gf is a secret animagus) ⛅️ who are you talking to? (they find out their date talks to her cat) 🌈 we've got you (the boys help gn!reader through an epileptic seizure) ⛅️ we don't need to celebrate (marauders x roommate!reader who cleaned her room)☀️ quit (reader gets upset when James is injured during a match) ⚡️⛅️ "she's fine" "she's crying" (the boys are called to pick up sad drunk!reader) ⛅️ popping wheelies (marauders x wheelchair user!reader blurb) ☀️🫧 Scout's Honour (the boys find fem!reader sleeping with her stuffie)☀️ not alone (zombie AU) ⛅️ -> worried about vs worried about (zombie au p2) ⚡️⛅️ post-war panic (x fem!reader hurt/comfort) ⛅️ what it feels like to win (sirius takes autistic!reader to get her nails done)☀️ why sirius is banned from shopping for reader 🌈

+ Lily Evans James & Sirius & Remus & Lily &...you? (poly!marauders + lily x fem!reader)☀️ -> shy!reader's first date with the marauders + lily ☀️ -> shy!reader doesn't know about Remus' furry little problem [marauders + lily]☀️ -> shy!reader learns about Remus' furry little problem [miscom trope] ⚡️⛅️ -> shy!reader finds her own way to help Sirius [hurt/comfort, Sirius-centric] ⛅️ Too Much (marauders + lily x their shy!reader who gets overwhelmed) ⛅️ four cheers for Hufflepuff (the Gryffindor's celebrate their quidditch player)

Seer!readers What did you See? (Seer fem!reader Sees a happy domestic life) ⛅️🫧 -> Saw Bad (their oldest child inherits seer!reader's abilities) ⛅️ Sight's Set (Seer slytherin fem!reader Sees a new relationship with the boys) 🌈 -> the case of the missing pickles (it's not a date) 🌈🫧 -> the boys help her through one of her Sights ⛅️

whimsical!readers Where'd you go? (whimsical!reader wanders off) ☀️🫧 Slimy (the boys meet whimsical!readers pet snake for the first time)🌈 battered by baggage (whimsical!reader is missing, fluff) 🌈🫧 raising harry with poly!marauders? ( feat. whimsical fem!reader)☀️

feisty!readers Hard Softie (you're feisty to everyone except your boys) 🌈🫧 I wasn't running from you (slytherin reader feels insecure) ⛅️ Beginnings (feisty reader stealing the 💖 of the only one not already in love)☀️ 🫧 -> The beginning (how feisty!readers relationship with the boys started) ⛅️ -> the viper and her admirer (the boys learn of feisty!readers admirer) 🌈

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #poly marauders x reader #poly marauders x you #the marauders #the marauders era #marauders x reader #marauders

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bobluvbot · 6 months

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late night cravings

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?”

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jarofstyles · 1 year

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eating from each others plates plsss 🫶🏼🫶🏼

BEAUTIFUL this is bit of dadrry too actually- I kinda changed it a little by accident but I still hope you enjoy it hehe

Prompt list for these asks

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It was hard to get a minute alone while being parents.

Y/N and Harry loved their children, don't get it wrong. Being a father had been one of his ultimate life goals and Y/N had fallen in love with motherhood, both of them excited to be at every play, soccer match, doctors visit, the works.

But god, was it nice to have a moment of peace.

The children were finally asleep. It had been the entire routine of homework, bath time, bedtime prep, laying out their outfit for the next day before each of them got a bedtime story. They'd gotten back late from a soccer match and selfishly gotten the kids fast food on the way home because Y/N couldn't even think about cooking.

Her own stomach had growled loudly while cleaning up the kitchen, and Harry had laughed under his breath before giving her an innocent look when she grumbled at him for the action. It was these sort of things, the domestic and somewhat unromantic aspects of having a life partner that had surprised her with how much she loved it.

It was easy. Having Harry around made everything more fun, more bearable even at the tough moments. He had always been a good partner despite their tiffs, and that hadn't seemed to change in their 10 years together.

When he had insisted he finish cleaning while she took a shower, she had finally given in and let the hot water relax her muscles, the lavender body wash aiding in the experience before she applied lotion and pulled on a fresh set of pajamas. That was famously one of Harry's shirts and a pair of shorts that could pass for underwear.

"Made us food." He said as she walked into the kitchen. It was pasta. One plate of pasta. She gave him a look as he walked over to the dining table to place it down next to her glass of wine- has she mentioned she loved him?- and sat on the chair, spreading his thighs before patting his lap. "C'mon, mama. You're sleepy and showered. Let's share."

Y/N simply did as told. Too tired to fight, she collapsed on his lap with a hefty sigh, feeling him scoot the chair further in and bring the fork to her mouth to feed her the first bite. Alfredo pasta. Creamy, rich, and something they'd definitely be having as leftovers tomorrow.

"Guess I did alright?" He laughed at her moan, the clean fork falling back to the plate to get himself a bite.

"Mhm." She confirmed before swallowing, watching as he chewed the food before nodding. Yeah, it was exceptionally good. Out of the both of them, it had always made her grumble that he was the better cook- but now she was reaping the benefits.

"Fuck yeah I did." He nodded, taking a sip of his ginger ale. "Love you too much to let you go to bed hungry. Took care of my babies so well today." He smeared a kiss to the side of her head before feeding her another bite. "So now you'll let me take care of you."

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #Harry styles flufff #Harry styles fluff #Harry fluff #dadrry #dad harry styles #dad harry

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mariacallous · 23 days

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A woman without biologicalchildren is running for high political office, and so naturally that quality will at some point be used against her. Kamala Harris has, in the short period since she emerged as the Democratic candidate for US president, been scrutinised over her lack of children. The conservative lawyer Will Chamberlain posted on X that Harris “shouldn’t be president” – apparently, she doesn’t have “skin in the game”. The Republican vice-presidential candidate, JD Vance, called Harris and other Democrats “a bunch of childless cat ladies miserable at their own lives”.

It’s a particularly virulent tendency in the US, with a rightwing movement that is fixated on women’s reproduction. But who can forget (and if you have, I am happy to remind you of a low point that still sticks in my craw) Andrea Leadsom, during the 2016 Conservative party leadership election, saying that Theresa May might have nieces and nephews, but “I have children who are going to have children … who will be a part of what happens next”. “Genuinely,” she added, as if the message were not clear enough, “I feel that being a mum means you have a real stake in the future of our country, a tangible stake.”

It’s an argument about political capability that dresses up a visceral revulsion at the idea that a woman who does not have a child should be vested with any sort of credibility or status. In other comments, Vance said that “so many of the leaders of the left, and I hate to be so personal about this, but they’re people without kids trying to brainwash the minds of our children, that really disorients me and disturbs me”. He appears so fixated on this that it is almost comical: a man whose obsession with childless women verges on a complex.

But his “disorientation and disturbance” is a political tendency that persists and endures. It constantly asks the question of women who don’t have children, in subtle and explicit ways, especially the higher they rise in the professional sphere: “What’s up with that? What’s the deal?” The public sphere becomes a space for answering that question. Women perform a sort of group plea to be left the hell alone, in their painstaking examinations of how they arrived at the decision not to have kids, or why they in fact celebrate not having kids, or deliberations on ambivalence about having kids.

Behind all this lies some classic old-school inability to conceive of women outside mothering. But one reason this traditionalism persists in ostensibly modern and progressive places is that women withdrawing from mothering in capitalist societies – with their poorly resourced public amenities and parental support – forces questions about our inequitable, unacknowledged economic arrangements. A woman who does not bear children is a woman who will never stay home and provide unremunerated care. She is less likely to be held in the domestic zone and extend her caregiving to elderly relatives or the children of others. She cannot be a resource that undergirds a male partner’s career, frailties, time limitations and social demands.

A mother is an option, a floating worker, the joker in the pack. Not mothering creates a hole for that “free” service, which societies increasingly arranged around nuclear families and poorly subsidised rights depend on. The lack of parental leave, childcare and elderly care would become profoundly visible – “disorienting and disturbing” – if that service were removed.

“Motherhood,” writes the author Helen Charman in her new book Mother State, “is a political state. Nurture, care, the creation of human life – all immediate associations with mothering – have more to do with power, status and the distribution of resources … than we like to admit. For raising children is the foundational work of society, and, from gestation onward, it is unequally shared.”

Motherhood, in other words, becomes an economic input, a public good, something that is talked about as if the women themselves were not in the room. Data on declining birthrates draws comment from Elon Musk (“extremely concerning!!”) . Not having children is reduced to entirely personal motivations – selfishness, beguilement with the false promise of freedom, lack of values and foresight, irresponsibility – rather than external conditions: of the need for affordable childcare, support networks, flexible working arrangements and the risk of financial oblivion that motherhood frequently brings, therefore creating bondage to partners. To put it mildly, these are material considerations to be taken into account upon entering a state from which there is no return. Assuming motherhood happens without such context, Charman tells me, is a “useful fantasy”.

It is a binary public discourse, obscuring the often thin veil between biological and social actualisation. Women who don’t have children do not exist in a state of blissful detachment from their bodies and their relationship with maternity: a number have had pregnancies, miscarriages, abortions and periods. A number have entered liminal stages of motherhood that don’t conform to the single definition from which they are excluded. A number extend mothering to various children in their lives. Some, like Harris herself, have stepchildren (who don’t count, just as May’s nieces and nephews didn’t). A number have become mothers, just not in a way that initiates them into a blissful club. They experience regret, depression and navigate unsettlement that does not conform to the image of uncomplicated validation of your purpose in life.

But the privilege of those truths cannot be bestowed on creatures whose rejection of the maternal bond has become a rejection of a wider unspoken, colossally unfair contract. Women with children are handed social acceptance for their vital investment in “the future”, in exchange for unrewarded, unsupported labour that props up and stabilises the economic and social status quo. All while still suffering sneeriness about the value of their work in comparison with the serious graft of the men who win the bread.

On top of that, women have to navigate all that motherhood – or not – entails, all the deeply personal, bewildering, isolating and unacknowledged realities of both, while being subject to relentless suffocating, infantilising and violating public theories and notions that trespass on their private spaces. With that comes a sense of self-doubt and shame in making the wrong decision, or not being as content with those decisions as they are expected to be. It is a constant, prodding vivisection. That, more than anything clinical observers feel, is the truly disorienting and disturbing experience.

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