It was clear that Fitz loved Jemma, would do anything to please his pregnant wife. After all, he was just the tiniest bit intimidated by her sometimes when she got angry at him (sometimes for no reason… he just guessed it was hormones).
Her midnight cravings he didn’t love so much.
Jemma, who was almost six months pregnant, stood in the kitchen in her pajamas hopelessly searching for something to eat. So far, it had been evident that she’d searched the pantry already, the door ajar with a jar of nutella that had dropped on the floor. She groaned at the sight of it, not wanting to pick it up knowing that her swollen belly would restrain her.
She was completely unaware of just how loud she was when it came to picking a midnight snack.
“Jemma…?” Fitz grumbled, walking into the kitchen while rubbing his eyes. “Why the bloody hell are you up?”
His wife just rolled her eyes in response to his evidently dumb question, as she stood in front of an open fridge.
“Well, little Margaret here was hungry,” she complained in a sullen tone. “So I was craving some eggs and peanut butter.”
Fitz grimaced at the odd combination, thinking of just how repulsive that would taste.
“So you were going to make some eggs… with peanut butter in them?!” He exclaimed, his voice surprisingly high. “That’s absolutely horrid!”
“I can’t control what Margaret wants, or when she wants it.” Jemma raised an eyebrows at her husband, who was obviously not a big fan of her crazy cravings, especially at quarter past midnight.
“Okay, fine, fine… I’ll make you some scrambled eggs.”
“With peanut butter?” Jemma added with a small smile.
“Yes, with peanut butter,” he repeated back to her, heavily sighing. “But I don’t think peanut butter was made to be put on eggs. I am not putting that in there.”
He gagged at the image, squeezing his eyes shut as he bent down to get a pan from the cupboard. Jemma helped by retrieving the eggs from the fridge, full from all the food that Fitz was prompted to get from the grocery store to fufill his wife’s cravings.
He began cooking her desired meal, standing in front of the stove while Jemma waited patiently at the table reading a parenting book, one hand resting on her stomach while smiling to herself.
When he finished, he triumphantly carried the plate of eggs over to her.
Only he hadn’t put the peanut butter on them.
“Fitz, what is this?” She said, a sharp tone of annoyance in her voice.
“Eggs. I am not putting peanut butter on them!” His face scrunched up in disgust again, bringing over the jar of creamy peanut butter to her. “Here, you do it yourself.”
Jemma opened the jar and scooped a spoonful of peanut butter with a satisfied smile, spreading it onto her perfectly cooked and scrambled eggs. She took a big bite of her meal, humming happily at the taste and continued to eat. When Fitz had finished putting everything away, he found that Jemma had already finished off her plate.
“Bloody hell! Jem, you practically inhaled that!” He exclaimed, his eyes nearly popping out of his head.
“I was hungry! I’m eating for two!” She argued, letting out a huff. She got up with her plate, rinsing it off and putting it in the dishwasher.
When she sat back down, she let out a large yawn. Fitz softened his expression at the pregnant woman, almost falling asleep in a kitchen chair.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he chuckled, urging her to stand up. “You’ve been up for a while.” Jemma obeyed, standing up and shot him a soft smile, following his guidance to their bed. She was able to find a comfortable position surprisingly quickly, her eyes falling closed with both her hands on top of her bump.
Fitz sighed in relief, letting her sleep in peace, moving a hand over their beautiful creation.
“Don’t make me make your mum eggs and peanut butter ever again,” he whispered. “That was a nightmare.” He let out a small laugh, giving in to the strong urge to fall asleep.