#waiting for my dad to get out of the shower so I can re-do his head dressing we are truly the picture of health | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

harrysmimi · 1 year ago

Text

CEOrry Pt.5

Synopsis: YN and Harry attend her friends wedding. A lot of things said and confessed

Ps. This is the last part.

Series Masterlist | More of my work

It was time for the twenty week prenatal check up and the ultra sound of course.

He was nervous. He haven't seen YN in about two weeks and half. He had to go back and forth Los Angeles and New York City for business last minute. But he had Jeremy drive YN to and from work, he has Lizzie check on her every other day or so. He didn't get to talk to her much.

Just to make sure she's doing alright.

The image of her in pain and misery is still hard to shake from his brain. He just wants to do everything possible to make sure YN isn't in any discomfort.

As new as it sounds. He cares for her. In more ways now. That is new.

She's sweet and caring. She is fiesty when she has to be, which is understandable. Being a woman is hard enough itself, though she's agree it's not an excuse for being an asshole to him.

He's seen her check up on her family as much as she could. Text her brother and dad as much as she could, especially when they're waiting for their turn at the doctors and she's got nothing better to do.

But today, it was something else.

She was going to see him at his place before they went to the doctors. He had an urgent meeting and he's been at office si ce last night, working overnight on this project with his team. He needed a nice hot shower and a change of clothes. And some food of course.

Just when he was coming downstairs, he heard YN's angry whispers from the patio. The door qas closed as she walked back and forth, bare foot, furiously yelling at someone over a phone call. He couldn't understand a word even though he could hear her clearly. She was saying something in her native language, except a few English words she used here and there.

"No, you listen to me you little bastard, you're going to give your phone to Papa at six every night. No going out, no drinking with friends, no seeing all these girls you see every other week." She was yelling at her brother she reckoned, "you're grounded until I see that degree of yours." She paused talking for a moment.

"Then I told you, do what you're interested in, you dumbo! I never forced you to study Business. I worked two jobs here just so you can go to the best college and study, I never expected this from you Veeraj! No! You're going to go take the re-exam, I want you to at least pass, my love! Then you can go ahead and do whatever you want. At least you'd try something."

Harry could see YN was on verged of breakdown. She looked so hurt and exhausted. Mentally exhausted. But she seemed to be calming herself there.

"That's okay! Everyone is not same, Vee, you gotta understand. I understand that. No one is really pressuring you to do anything you don't like. Rebelling is not going to be a answer to anything. I'm trying my best to help you out here. Just so you don't end up drowning in student loans. Now is really not the time for this. You've got to stop drinking, stop hanging out with friends who just take away from your energy. Set up boundaries for yourself. I'm not asking for you to grow up, I'm asking you to learn to take up your responsibilities. I'm going to be here to help every step of the way, whatever it is you want to do I'll find a way to support you, okay? Do you understand me?" She paused for a moment, "That's what I thought. Now I'll ask my friend to take you in for a few lessons. I want you to promise me that you'll do something to get yourself to be a better person, okay? Yeah. That's what I thought. Now go to sleep, and start fresh from tomorrow."

He found her very attractive. He kept staring up until after a few byes and I love yous YN hung up her call and sat down on the step of the patio, crying.

That's when Harry decided to step out and talk to her. "Hey, what's wrong?" He sat down next to her.

"It's nothing. I've been crying since last night." She said.

Lie!

He talked to her last night and she was laughing and joking, having the time of her life making fun of him over the voice call.

"That's not true, YN. You know you can talk to me, right?" He suggested.

"I know." She nodded, "it's just my little brother. He's got weird circle friends and drinking problems. I mean he's barely twenty. It's going since he was seventeen. It got worse when I moved here for my dissertation. Our dad can look after just so much, he's sick and his work took so much toll on him. He failed three of his classes last semester. Which is a lot given his last two year record. If he fails he's got to start all over again."

"It's all my fault. I never asked him what he wanted to study before I gave my own suggestions. I shouldn't have moved here." She mumbled as she sobbed.

"Hey, no, no!" He pulled her closer to his side with his arm around her back, "you try your best, don't you? And that's what matters."

"I don't know. He's like my own baby, I've been taking care of him since I was six. I can't see him doing things which are going to make his life miserable in long run. He's not like this." She finally chose to confide in Harry there.

She isn't a saint, she got drunk too. But that was the first time. That made her more guilty for yelling at her brother like that.

"We'll get him the help he needs, yeah?" He assured her, "you don't have to beat yourself up for something you can't have control over."

"You've done enough for me, Harry, I can't bother you more." She sniffled, "he'll get throught it, he's done it once when our dad found out."

"If you think so." He sighed, "did you had your lunch?"

"Mhmm." She nod her head, "I was hungry so I ate before I came here."

"Good." He smiled, "now do you want to come inside?"

"Just five minutes?" She asked, "and did you eat?"

"I'm going to do that now." He tried to hold back his stupid grin the best he could. She cares about him enough to check up on him even though she's an emotional mess in that moment.

"Okay."

......................................................................

Another hour of wait for the monthly check up (twenty four weeks). YN was already over it today. She'd call it a day off she didn't had to go run some errands after at the bank and pick up a few things from the post office and things like those. Julia was going with her, so she didn't had to take cabs and tube and such.

She was just sat there, slumped and dazed off. Not noticing that Harry had quietly slid his hand into hers on his lap. She didn't realise until she heard another couple comment something along the lines of 'they're so adorable' now maybe it was for something else, but it caught her attention. Warmth in her hand grew slowly closing towards her heart there.

YN had so much going on in her mind, especially in that moment when she could feel the baby move.

They started moving just a week before she went to appointment solo. She couldn't bring herself to share that with Harry. She can control not sharing that. Even though she knows she shouldn't.

She can't have a say in the baby's life but she can at least have a control over this. Of course he won't touch her without her permission, or she'll kick his ass. But he won't.

YN have picked up on the baby's pattern. They were active mostly when she's feeling tired. Not to mention, the heartburn. She just wishes they're not as hairy as she was a baby. Her mum used to tell her how she couldn't even lie down when she had her. She was five and she remembered, she was just lying on her mum's lap as she asked her stupid toddler questions, her mum would answer to her the best way her five hear old self could understand. But with her brother, she could lie down and eat because her brother was a bald baby. But adorable none the less. She missed her mum.

Also she didn't wanted to share too much, before the baby was taken away from her. Well, it isn't her technically. She never wanted to give up her own child, but she did so she wasn't parentless. That was to save ber dad, who's perfectly fine and healthy.

And even though they're on time, they still have to wait at least two and half to three hours for their turn. Which is annoying on many levels.

"Hey, you're tired?" She heard Harry whisper in her ear to which she nodded. "C'mere." He draped his arm behind her on the chair, "just relax, yeah? Everything is going to be fine, I'm here."

She wanted to punch him in the face, but she understood what he was trying to say. Everything is going to be fine, she's going to be fine. So she leaned to his side just to be hit by the fragrance of his cologne in the face. But it was comforting. Weirdly enough.

"We've still got an hour and half." His voice was nothing more than a whisper, "you can take a nap, I'll wake you up, yeah?"

"I'll try." She agreed.

She could really use a nap. But in her own bed. Under her fluffy blanket, and AC on blast. Not at her place here. Back home. She's got a huge bed with comfiest mattress and bedding, she missed it now more than anything. She can cry to go back home and hug her dad.

She tried to sit there as still as she could with a baby inside her having a rave party. She watched Harry check few of his emails, they were from a same person with lists of products for a baby and a nursery. She doesn't mean to peep, she wouldn't have looked into his phone if it were related to his business. But it's not.

Now Harry thought she was fast asleep when he checked his emails until he heard a few soft sniffles from her. He peeped down to find her crying. "Hey, why you crying, darling?"

"It's nothing." She shook her head, "I just don't feel well, that's all."

"Just a few more minutes, yeah? Then we'll ask Doctor Wilson if we can do something for it. Hmm?" He suggested.

"Yeah."

"It's okay." He hugged her close to his chest.

......................................................................

"Baby's got a lot of hair on their head." Dr. Wilson shared, "this sort of explains the heartburn." Harry looked back and forth between YN and the screen in front of them. "You can still feel the baby move?" To which YN nodded.

"You can?" He whispered looking at her with puppy eyes.

"Mhmm." She nodded.

"You want to know the sex of your baby, Mr. Styles?" Doctor Wilson asked.

Now that made YN's heart sink to her tummy. But was the truth. She signed up for this. Doctor Wilson was the one who have helped her with everything from day one. She knew everything about the IVF and her being the surrogate and everything. But she noticed Harry glance at her for last minute approval. She didn't know what to say.

"We'd like to wait, thank you." He smiled.

He said we.

The appointment went smooth as always, doctor Wilson gave YN some advices to help her heartburn. She then had a little bit of time with just YN because she wanted to ask her some questions, which given if both the parties were couple she wouldn't mind asking with the partner in the room.

Doctor Wilson is very thoughtful, especially when she knew YN had personally asked for a female doctor, and that YN was a bit uncomfortable with Harry in the room at the beginning of the screening to see if she can carry a fetus to full term in a healthy manner. But her one question only directed towards Harry had her puzzled with her emotions that day.

She should just really talk to Harry. Right? Or at least try? He'll understand, right?

......................................................................

She held off.

More so that more weeks went by, her health wasn't getting any better (the baby is very healthy) plus she's got a wedding to get through with. YN passed out three times in her bathroom, lucky she sustained no injury. She lied down on the floor carefully when she felt it coming. Her friends almost rushed her to the Emergency department the fourth time. But it was controllable. She went to see her doctor the very next day.

Harry wasn't in town again. He'd gone on another last minute call, this time it was for award ceremony for entrepreneurs and such. He was awarded with couple of awards there, it was just going to go to his every growing college in his office. YN had to go to her monthly checkup alone this time. And it was going to be only time she has to go alone.

But when he came back it was just time for Josh and Kayla's wedding. Harry was actually late, so Jeremy ended driving YN to the wedding venue two days before. He had no idea what went on.

It was the time when the bride and everyone was done getting ready, and they were taking pictures.

YN's dress was loose, she wasn't showing much even though the baby weighed half a pound more than it should be at twenty-one week. It was easier hide her belly.

Now she doesn't want to draw attention to her belly and take away from her best friend's special day. But she did snuck off to the bathroom in her own room next door to take a few of pictures on her phone, posed as where her belly is visible.

"YN you're being dramatic and extra. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it." She scolded herself as she looked through the pictures, just as she was about to delete those, she heard the bride calling for her.

"YN, your alright in there?" Kayla asked, "talk to me so I know you did not pass out in there, babe."

"Yeah, I'm fine." She called out. But not until she heard, the door knob being violently being shaken from the outside.

"Unlock the bloody door YN!" He banged on the door, "open rhe fucking door damn it!"

It was Harry knocking on the door, hard. She hoped he didn't bruise his knuckles when she quickly opened the door worried. "Why are you knocking so hard? Is your hand okay?"

"Why didn't you tell me?" He glared at her ignoring her concerning questions. There was a hint of worry behind his anger.

YN looked at her friend. She just threw her hands up in defence, "I didn't tell him anything. He over heard it." Kayla explained, "I'll give you two a moment." With that she fled the room. YN sighed and walked to the bed in her hotel room so she could put on her shoes.

"Why didn't you tell me YN?" He followed her.

"You were away for work. I didn't wanted to burden you with my problems." She answered and picked up her left shoe. She was going to wear her sneakers because she can't walk properly even when barefoot. She trips and falls, especially at weddings.

"I expect you to share things like with me, YN." He sighs in frustration and kneels down in front of her to help her with her shoes. "How many time have I told you that, hmm? This is ridiculous. You, you think that stupid award function is what I cared about more?" She didn't say anything. He just looked up at her when he was done putting her shoes on for her and found her looking at him with puppy eyes.

Honestly, she can fight with him right there. But it's her friend's special day she doesn't wanna ruin it.

"You wanna talk later?" He asked to which she nodded. "Yes or no?"

"Yes!" She huffed getting up and walking towards the bathroom where she left her phone.

"Hey, YN, I'm sorry. Shouldn't have talk to you like that." He tailed her around as she gathered her stuff. She grabbed a lipstick, and stuff it in the pocket of her dress.

"You tied my shoe lace too tight." She ignored him like he did not yell at her even five minutes ago. Without a question he knelt down again to retie her shoes for her.

For the rest of the ceremony, leading upto the reception party none of them talked to one another but yet managed to savour and enjoy every minute, for her friends at least.

First it was the dinner then the reception according the bride and groom's plans. It was emotional, funny and sarcastic with all of the speeches. And the drinking and dancing began again.

YN was getting overwhelmed already. Especially after her little speech. She could still see Harry there, he looked pissed. She went to get herself a glass of water by the bar.

"Hello there." Someone went to sit on the stool right next to hers. It was Doctor Micheal Jones.

"Hi..." YN was confused seeing him there.

"Been waiting to talk to ya whole night actually. How have you been?" He asked.

"I've been good, what about you?" Oh how she hated the small talk.

"I'm great." He smiled. She noticed he's got dimples too, a blond stubble and both his arms were covered in random tattoos, she could see from the rolled up sleeves.

Wait, has she got a type?

"You're from the bride or groom's side?" She asked him before he could say anything further.

"I am Heidi, Joshua's step sisters cousin." The blue eyed man explained.

"Oh, that sweet."

"And you're from bride's side I believe?" He asked.

"Oh no, I'm technically from both of their sides." She giggled, "they're both my best mates."

"YN, darling can I talk to you?" It was Harry interrupting Micheal before he could even utter a word. "Come on darling it's urgent please." He grabbed a gentle hold her hand as he helped her down the stool making sure to take her water bottle from the counter. He guided her out.

YN didn't get to take in the venue when the sun was up. But the wedding was at the Stourhead House and Gardens in the county of Wiltshire, near the Apollo Temple.

It's the exact place where Kiera Knightley's Pride and Prejudice was filmed. Kayla's a huge nerd for books, hence her PhD in English literature. YN never understood how that girl can read three to four hundred page book in a day to a day and half max. The venue was also something Kayla and Josh had little arguments over until they booked the place for the day.

"What?" YN slipped her hand out of Harry's, the metal of his rings was warm and cosy but she's mad at him for talking to her like that. They're out of the party now.

"Let's go there, it's a little loud here." He grabbed her hand again and walked towards the Apollo Temple which was barely fifteen feet away from the party. Which didn't make sense because it was still loud. They sat by the edge of the temple there. "You're feeling any better now?" He asked. Watching her lean into the pole next to her.

She looks tired and sleep deprived there. Her phone placed in between him and her with the lockscreen lit up, it was half part ten then and the the background was of the first ultrasound picture he sent her. It was the phone he gifted her, she's really using it. And the bracelet, she was wearing it. The piece of jewelry went so well with her baby blue dress, a stretchy bodice and off shoulder opaque sleeves ending just by her wrists. She wore a silver necklace with a little gold charm on it.

"Hey, come on, I'm really sorry darling." He scooted a bit closer to her, "why didn't you tell me, hmm?" He tucked the loose strand of hair behind her ear gently and she finally looked at him.

"I told you, I didn't wanted to tell you because you were away for work." She shared, "you said you have important meeting. I went to the appointment so I'm fine now."

"You also said, and I quote, I don't want to burden you with my problems, care to tell me what that means?" For the first time they're having a conversation without yelling at one another, "because I never said you're burden, did I now? I apologise if at any point I made you feel that way, I never intended to."

"You didn't, I, I, I just didn't wanted to disturb you that's all." She shook her head.

"I was done with my meeting on day one, should have told me YN." He insisted, his thumb caressing the apple on her cheek tenderly, "don't want it to happen again, but you'll tell me when it does, no matter how busy I am, yeah?"

"Yeah." She agreed.

"Have you been sleeping well?" He enquired.

"No, I can't lie down without feeling like my esophagus is burning." She shared. Truthfully. "Doctor said the baby's got way too many hair on their head. I'll give you the picture when we're back in Hampstead."

He cracked a smile, "about that..."

"What?"

"I, I actually forgot what I was about to ask you." He covered up for himself. He wanted to tell her that she can be in the babies life, he can get the agreement terminated and all. But it felt weird.

He knows she wants her own kids, that's why she was hesitant at first. But telling her now would sound wrong. He doesn't know if she wants to be a parent just yet. He'll tell her when he finds a better way to approach this subject.

He also so badly wanted to tell her how he felt. He really, really liked her. Hell and heavens he thought he's borderline already in love with her there. But he just held off. At least for now. It'll be too much for both of them. He actually really wanted her to be around the baby, he's seen how she always tries to look away from the screen at the ultrasound or talk less about the bahy with the doctor. How she asked for him to send pictures of the ultra sound print they got, and now it's her lockscreen.

"do you wanna go back inside?"

"Not really, I don't like weddings." She shrugged, "I told Kayla, 'if I got MIA for after a bit, don't worry'. Do you want to go in?"

He chuckled softly. "No, I don't like weddings either."

"Awh! Why?" She cooed, "sorry, I forgot no questions."

"You've asked me way too many questions, we're way past that." He pointed out.

"And I got no answers to those questions." She added immediately.

"Touché." He looked down sheepishly. "I found out my Fiancé and partner of six years was cheating on me, the morning of the wedding."

"No, that's so fucked up!" She gasped, "I don't get it why people cheat? Like what the hell?"

Harry giggled at her very honest and blunt reaction, "it's alright, I'm over it now." He shrugged. "It was the second time actually. Being cheated on. Wanted to adopt a kid at first but a single man with a busy schedule is not anyone's first choice. Tried for about three years."

"Understandable. I'm so sorry that happened to you."

"Why do you hate weddings?" He diverted the subject to her now.

"My reason is a bit more depressing." She said with her hand into a pinch to say how much more sas her reason is with a slight wink of her eye.

"I'm sure, but I'm here to listen."

"Trauma bonding, are we now?" She nodded her head squinting her eyes, "my mother died when I was six and my little brother was just two-three weeks old. Of course there was a wedding in our house so everyone was away except me, my dad and my mum with my brother, well 'cause she was sick."

"I'm sorry." He mumbled.

"It's fine, I've had twenty years to learn and grow." She shrugged.

"Do you mind me asking what happened?"

"She had a c-section with my brother and the internal stitches ripped open because she was throwing up and coughing so much. I was there when she, uhhh, you know... My dad was out getting us dinner when all of that happened." She moved back a little bit to sit comfortably with her legs criss cross, using the pole as a back rest, her hand resting on her bump as if on autopilot.

Harry just sat there looking at her as he processed all of what she said. She was six. Watched her mother die. That explains her fear of throwing up.

"Don't look at me like that, your green eyes scary." She laughed.

"I'm just trying to process." Harry shared, "What was her name? Your mum's name, I mean."

"Sofia." YN shared.

"That's a beautiful name." Harry cooed and took a moment to mirror how she sat. "Why don't you tell me about her?"

"You want me to talk about my Mummy?" She looked at him puzzled to which he just nodded, "well I've only known her for six years. But she was a doctor like me. A little crazier 'cause my dad told me once she was going for another doctorate. I never want to touch that ever again!"

"So you come from a family of a geniuses." He commented joining her laugh.

"You can say that. She had like three cats, only one of them is still alive. He's old man now. I brought him home on my way back from school he was about three months old, so he's technically my cat. My dad was furious, but who can go against mum's. I mean who's got that kind of audacity, right?"

"Exactly!" He agreed with his own dramatics, "Mum's are the best!"

"Not all of them, my step mother is a total witch. Witch not a bitch. Can't swear like that." She shared. "My mum was the principal of my school. And everyone loved her, obviously. As they all should. That's pretty much it. What else you want to know?"

"She sounds like an amazing person." Harry said. "I'm trying to figure out something though. I wasn't a hairy baby, nor my sister or my mother or dad. How is this baby so hairy? How did doctor Wilson even see that?"

YN looked at him in disbelief, "you failed your science classes by any chance?"

"Yeah, twice but what does that have to with--" he paused, "oh, oh. I'm sorry I didn't to say it like that. I also didn't want to assume. Just looking out for you that's all as you said you can't lie down and--"

"Okay, okay calm down." She stopped him, "it's okay, it's okay."

"Did she tell you what you can do to help with the heartburn?" He asked.

"Nope. Can just hope for the best." She shook her head.

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright. F.Y.I. sir, I was a very fussy baby as well. Good luck with that."

"You're joking?"

"Nope."

"You're joking!"

"I am not."

"Yes you are, you cheeky, you're laughing."

Now she was laughing, "you saw how much I still cry, right?"

He sighed, "yeah."

"We should go back in, they're about to play my favourite song." YN suggested. Harry was up on his feet immediately ready to help her up.

"Yeah? How do you know that?"

"I made the playlist, duh!"

They walked to the wedding party back. Or more like, Harry followed YN like a little smitten little kitten. Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran started playing.

"Would you like to dance with me, ma'am?" Harry offered his hand with extra add on of his charm.

"I'd love to." YN placed her hand in his. Harry took the opportunity to lace his fingers through her in a delicate hold, and slid his other hand around her waist. The baby in between wasn't enough to keep a modest distance.

"This alright?" He whispered as he swayed both of them to the soft tune.

"Mhmm." She nodded.

"What is with you and that doctor?" He asked all of a sudden looking behind her.

"Who? Doctor Jones?" She asked.

"Mhmm."

"Nothing. He's just a nice dude. Why did you ask that?"

"He's been oogling at ya the whole day!" Harry scoffed.

"By the way this is my favourite song." YN tried to change the subject and it worked.

"Is that Ed Sheeran?"

"Yeah!"

"He's one of my best mates." He casually bragged.

"You're kidding?"

"Nope."

"You are kidding!" She gasped.

"I am not. I have his number."

"You have Ed Sheeran's number?" She sounded gobsmacked.

"Yeah."

"Oh my god! Can you get me his signed record?" And she gasped again at her own idea.

"He's on tour right now, but I'll try." He couldn't help but laugh at her reaction, he place her hand in his on his shoulder as he reached to tuck her hair behind her ear again. "You look very pretty tonight, have I told you that?"

"I don't know." She shrugged nonchalantly, but she's screaming inside.

YN tried her best to keep her feelings in check. Like, it's not right. Today though, she did took time to really just take all the feelings in.

Oh boy, did he looked extra, extra dreamy today!

His hair grown out a tiny bit. He now styled his hair in a middle part, his stubble ever so slightly showing. His eyes looked so vibrant and relax, like there were no worries about anything behind them.

And today is about celebrating love too!

He wore a baby blue suit, with his staple white dress shirt. Which is always see through and top three buttons undone. His classic cross necklace, he switched it out to a gold one few weeks ago. And the tattoos on his pecks peeking through as always, which she believed are some kind of birds surrounded by little hairs on his chest.

It was touch of his soft thumb just under her lip which brought her back on earth. His face was just so close to her. That's when someone screamed her name.

"Oh god!" She was spooked.

"It's alright, who is that?" Harry asked looking behind her. It was one of Kayla's childhood friend, Hadleigh.

"YN!" The girl exclaimed as she approached her.

Now, Hadleigh and YN hardly talk to one another. But when they first met, they were really good friends. Until Hadleigh went ahead and shot her shot, telling YN that she had started to like her.

Well, it isn't like YN's not into girls, but she's confused if she's in girls like that in the first place. But most importantly, she wasn't looking for a partner that time (nor is she now unless it's Harry). YN's always been so focused on her career, she never gave going out or being in a relationship a shot ever. It just haven't been her cup of tea to begin with.

Plus, she didn't want to be vulnerable and open to someone.

Hadleigh of course was very understanding and respected her feelings. She got busy with her job as real estate developer. And life went on.

"Hadleigh, so nice to see you!" YN exclaimed.

"Same here," the blue eyed girl smiled as she took YN in for a hug, "I know I missed the ceremony but gosh this is amazing!"

"It is." YN had to agree, the party was lit.

"Oh, you're pregnant!" Hadleigh almost squealed.

"I, uhhh..." YN stuttered, "yeah."

"Congratulations!" She gave YN another hug.

"Thank you." YN smiled not knowing what to say, "this is Harry by the way." YN turned to Harry was stood just half a step behind her. "And Harry, this is Hadleigh. Kayla's kindergarten friend."

"Oh, nice to meet you Hadleigh." Harry approached her with a handshake.

"Nice to meet you too, Harry." Hadleigh shook hands with him. "Oh, looks like the bride is finally free. I'm gonna go talk to her before she gets busy again."

"Yeah sure." YN nodded.

"You want to go back to the hotel?" Harry asked once Hadleigh was gone, YN looked exhausted.

"No, I'll just go sit somewhere." She shared.

"Come." He grabbed her hand and guided her to the now empty dining tables set to a side, he pulled a chair for her to sit facing the dance floor, he pulled a chair like he did at the ice cream place on her birthday that night. His knee touching hers.

"Is it really that obvious, I'm pregnant?" She asked, her hand on her swollen belly now really showing she is in fact very pregnant. But she's been feeling insecure lately. She had to run last minute to the tailor to get her dress readjusted, even though it was made keeping in mind she'd grow by the time of the wedding.

Well, she's almost in her third trimester (twenty eight weeks). It was obviously going to show. YN just doesn't want to admit that this time is going way too fast.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, confused of her sudden change in mood.

"I-- she knew just by looking at me?" She wondered.

"She hugged you, darling." Harry defended her from herself, "I mean it's not a bad thing, is it?"

"No," she shook her head.

"Are they moving now?" He asked.

"Yeah, like crazy!" She sighed, "see!"

Harry carefully kept his hand where her's was, she placed hers on his. He felt a jolt which made him almost jump. "That was strong!" He commented laughing.

"Yeah." YN nodded.

It warmed her heart how he already adored the baby, they aren't even born yet.

And it also makes her heart sore thinking this is the only time she'll get with the baby. She's been contemplating to ask him if she could still see them from time to time. She would be fine if he never told them she's their mother. But it felt wrong.

After all he's just a complete stranger she met through a surrogacy agency website online, got pregnant via IVF, failed one time but worked the second, he paid her for carrying the baby. She's already grown to love the baby so much that it also felt wrong that she did it all for money at first.

She doesn't want him to think she's in with wrong intentions if she asks to see the baby in future.

Though, she's already paid one of the installments to the remaining amount he had lent her. He doesn't know about it, but his accountant and Personal Assistant does.

"You good?" Harry sounded concerned. That's when YN realised her eyes were getting watery as she thought about everything.

"Yeah. Just a little sleepy." She made an excuse, which he surprisingly belived.

"Do you really want to go back to the hotel, YN? You know we can." He suggested.

"No, I'm fine. I promise." She assured him.

They sat there in corner watching the party go on. Until Kayla came and approached YN herself, she was little tipsy but she pulled a chair next to her.

"You look tired." She spoke, "I think should really go and rest."

Harry jumped in too, "that's what I said."

"See, he agrees too." Kayla pointed out. "You need to rest!"

"I know, but I'm having fun just sitting here." YN shared. And she is indeed having fun there.

The party eventually came, newly weds were off to their honeymoon. This was all new to YN, as everything was over in merely three days.

Harry drove YN back to the hotel room. His was booked right next tk hers. They walked as it was just to the walking distance.

"This ended very quickly." She commented.

"Quickly?" Harry got confused.

"The wedding." YN shared, "it went on barely three days, it was just a bachelorette party, then going over some things the next day, then the wedding, this happened really quickly."

"That's a long time."

"No, it's not. Wedding functions usually last for weeks. Not that I like or enjoy any of those, but it was still significantly different experience." She explained.

"Yeah?" Harry sounded in amusement. They reached her room there, it was too quick for Harry's liking.

"Hmm, Indian wedding usually last for about two weeks to a month." YN shared as she opened up the door to her room.

"Have to attend an Indian wedding myself then, eh." He beamed, "I'm just next door to you, call me if you need anything, hmm?"

"I will, thank you." She nodded. "Wait... This is not my room." She checked the card key.

"Got you stuff moved here. It's a lot more comfortable." He explained.

"This is a freaking suite Harry, who's going to pay for it?!" She opened the door and was shocked to see the room.

It had light blocking curtains, a massive bed she doesn't have to now share with Julia. It had it's own sofa and coffee table by what she reckoned is a floor to ceiling glass window.

"I did." He said, "try to get some sleep now darling."

......................................................................

It was middle of the night and YN was craving chocolates.

Now, she can hold herself off till she can get something to eat which she is craving. It was a different kind of urge now. Especially when she couldn't eat the chocolate desserts as they had Rum in it. Kayla almost killed off the caterers for not having a Alcohol free dessert as she asked for specially for her best friend.

YN could go down to the hotel gift shop and buy a very expensive bar of chocolate but she just want to get out of her room. The bed is awfully comfy. And she couldn't sleep because every time she goes to lie down, her stomach acids want to gush out of esophagus. So she called Harry. Sent the man out to get her chocolates. And he did so. The gift shop was closed off he messaged her so he drove to a nearest shop to get her what she wanted. It looked like he bought the whole store when he got back with just more than just chocolates she asked for.

"Is this enough, darling?" He set everything on the little coffee table by the floor to ceiling window which was now closed off by light blocking curtains.

"That's too much Harry!" She walked upto him. "Just asked for a few chocolates."

"Well, I figured you might be hungry as you didn't eat much tonight." He pulled out a few bags of crisps, "usually don't condone eating junk food, but this is the best we can do at two in the morning."

"Thank you!" She cooed and hugged him tight.

Harry was taken back. Not by her hugging him but by the butterflies in his tummy. He hugged her back though. Her hugs are always warm and welcoming.

"Of course, my love." He rubbed her back gently, "why didn't you sleep?"

And she got to opening a bar of chocolate as she sat down on the sofa chair, right next to him. "I can't sleep. Everytime I try, my stomach acids want just gush out." She munched on the chocolate and yawned.

She really needs sleep, but she can't sleep sitting up. It's very dangerous. She might fall off her bed, or sleep in a position which might hurt the baby.

"Oh look," she grabbed a hold on his wrist and place it on her stomach for Harry to feel the punches. "And there goes the jab!"

"Ouch!" Harry almost felt that under his skin, "they're being a trouble maker, aren't they! Go to sleep now, will you little wrestler!"

"What the hell!" YN stopped feeling them move out of nowhere. "Did they just stopped moving?"

Harry chuckled, "they already listen to their Papa, don't they?" His thumb ran gentle strokes over the oversized shirt she wore.

"Yeah." She's in awe again. But took advantage and moved back to relax maybe take in a nap before long car ride back home the next day. Harry got up quickly and got the blanket from the bed.

"C'mere." He sat next to her again with his arm draped onto the back rest of the sofa. YN hesitantly leaned in resting her head on his shoulder as she tried to sleep.

......................................................................

Next morning was chaos.

YN was throwing up so their drive back was delayed. Julia was accompanying them as Harry offered. He saved her the hassle of taking a train back home. So it was now Julia and YN play arguing over some snacks they bought just before getting in the car.

Harry had a great time watching them bicker back and forth without offending one another. He'd act as if he's not paying attention when either of them tried to bring him in their pretend argument, not wanting to be the bad guy.

That was pretty much it for the day.

......................................................................

The very next day was when Harry resumed his duty of taking her to and from work.

He wants to make sure she's safe and sound himself. Sure he trust Jeremy with his own life. But he gets more time to spend with YN.

"Hi!" She greeted him with a warm smile on her in morning when he picked her up.

Harry took to this very lovely breakfast place, one because Lizzie is on a vacation, and two he can't cook to even save his life without burning down his kitchen. He's hungry and he knows she might have not eaten well either.

"I can't believe you out of all people are eating out today!" YN pointed out sipping on her smoothie.

"Lizzie is on a vacation." He shared.

"You didn't cook?" Harry just glanced at her sheepishly, "so you're going to eat out till she comes back?"

"I guess, or maybe I'll crash at my mum's."

She giggled, "come over tonight, I'll make you something to eat."

"You don't have to darling, you're already tired enough." He found her glaring at him, enough to be intimidating. "Alright!"

And that's what they did. Harry picked her up from work and they went straight to grocery shopping, because she didn't had much left at home and they went back to her place.

Julia was home, watching TV.

Harry had figured the blondie is fun to hang out with, she just hated him for reasons he doesn't know. Well, maybe for treating her best friend like crap that night at his bar.

"Hello mamas, how was your day?" She spoke looking behind, "oh look mister grumpy pants is here too!"

"Hello to you too, blondie." Harry waved at her.

"You're staying in tonight, J?" YN asked to which Julia nodded, "I'm making dinner."

"I was just going to order us Pizza!" Blondie gasped in excitement and followed the pair into the kitchen. Harry noticed a few boxes in the kitchen. Like someone was moving out.

"Who's moving out?" He asked.

"The newly weds." Julia shared as YN made a run to the loo. "They got their own place now."

"Awh!" Harry cooed. Both of them took out the ingredients from the bags mean while YN came back, in a civil manner. Civil manner from Julia mostly.

"Can I please have the kitchen to myself?" YN asked as she stepped back in the kitchen. She doesn't like the clutter in kitchen when she's cooking, and knowing her best friend, Blondie would definitely pick a fight with Harry.

"I'll leave." Julia saw herself out to continue watching whatever animal documentary she was watching.

"I'm staying to help." Harry announced as he rolled up sleeves of his white dress shirt. YN said nothing as she handed him an apron, knowing his short costs as much as a month worth of rent.

She started off by chopping onions and tomatoes. Harry's eyes almost started tearing up as he stood there waiting for her instructions to do something.

"Oh my god those onions!" He hissing covering his eyes and making YN laugh.

"Go sit out, I can do this." She told him.

"No, I'm fine. I'm fine." He sniffled. "What are we having though?"

"Okra, which is Bhindee, Roti, rice and Daal." She shared the menu with him.

"Never had that before." He sounded intrigued to try new food, "the most I've had is Biryani, Jeremy's wife made."

"You're missing out." She sighed dramatically.

"Really?"

"Really!"

"Guess we'll have to ask Lizzie to make new foods then." He announced. And he for sure is going to ask his cook to make some new foods.

Harry had a few things to share with her, but given her friend is in other room he figured he'll do that the next day.

Barely two and half months till baby is here, the appointments were now every other week instead of every month. He wanted to know when was she planning to put in her maternity leave.

He just wants her to be comfortable, standing for hours on hours teaching is very fucking tiring. And dealing with teenagers? That's whole new level of difficult in his opinion. Though the summer vacation have already begun, she still went to work.

The cat, Noodle just walked past his legs to YN and lingered around the kitchen as she cooked.

"Can you stir this a few times in between?" YN asked him.

"Yes!" He's been waiting for this, he took on the work. The dinner was done in no time. Even the cat was given it's dinner around the same time.

Harry had a quiet night watching a Dinasaur documentary. YN seemed very interested in that as they all sat on the floor with coffee table as their dining table.

......................................................................

The very next week. Kayla and Josh were back from their honeymoon as they got ready to move out.

Even Julia had found herself a place to move to so she can afford the rent. YN was going to live at Harry's place, as per the contract as she's nearing the due date.

Like promised, Harry took days off to help YN pack up her stuff. She just clothes and a few things to move, like her bed which she sold as she'd have nowhere to keep it. And that was it.

It was pretty emotional leaving the place she called home from past five years. She hoped she'd finally get to go see her dad this summer but maybe she can go during winter break.

Back at Harry's, she got the room she spent a night at once. The closet was empty for her to fill it up.

YN didn't know what was upstairs, maybe Harry didn't used that floor. His bedroom was downstairs, maybe the floor above had guest bedrooms. She remembered Lizzie saying it is a six bedroom house. There were few people working in the other spare room that day. Maybe he's getting the nursery ready.

That thought made YN's heart sink again.

She spent a couple of hours just putting her clothes away from the boxes. She didn't know she had that many clothes, and none of those fit her anyway now. So she placed all of the clothes which don't fit her and she doesn't want to wear in a separate box to donate.

She was just on her last box when Harry came in with tea and a few snacks. He knew she needed to take her vitamins and few other medications doctor have prescribed to her, she needed to eat something for that. They had a very early lunch.

"You want me to help you with those?" He asked as he placed the tray on the ottoman in the closet.

"I'm almost done. Those are for donation." YN explained.

"That's like half of your closet." He pointed out, she just sighed and continued to place last few closed in their shelves. "We'll go shopping tomorrow, yeah?"

"It's fine, I am fine with these for now." She gesture at the clothes she had.

It looked like the closet was empty. She never had a walk in closet before, it was very new to her. She had very limited space at her last place anyway.

"Come on now I got Chai and snacks. Made it just the way you showed me yesterday." He grabbed a gentle hold of her hand as he walked her out. "You want to make any modifications to this room? We should add a study table so you can work comfortably."

"I just have a week and half of work left, don't need a study table. But thank you." She tried her best to smile but all she could think about was the baby she will never see again.

"You alright?" Harry could sense she is in deep thoughts but he let her decide if she wants to share it.

"Yeah, I just need a nap." Maybe she can sleep and her worries would go away. Yeah, she can try that whilst the baby is not moving.

"Okay, but at least eat something, yeah?" He suggested, "I'll be just outside."

"Mhmm." She picked up the mug of chai. She is going to eat before she sleep though.

......................................................................

YN couldn't sleep. So she decided to take a warm shower, got everything ready but she got a call from her dad. She just sat there talking to him for a while.

She hadn't told her dad that the baby was her's too, and she wasn't just carrying it for a couple. Not that he would be mad, but she just wanted someone to share it with. Someone who she shared that close bond with.

They talked about her little brother's latest behaviours, how he's getting back on track and getting the help he needs. Her dad shared that he went upto him to talk about it. YN was relieved from that worry of her. Her dad also shared how her brother was interested in modeling and that he's gone to a few casting too and all that stuff. He also shared that the doctors gave him a pass that he can go work in person in a next few months given his very fast recovery.

YN was over the moon hearing that. That was the reason she took that very big decision.

She had a nice cry and stayed in her designated room all night, sulking in her bed.

At least she got some sleep.

Harry didn't bother her until the next morning when she had breakfast in her room. He went to check in on her and take her shopping like he said last night. He managed to convince her to with him. But that was it.

......................................................................

Harry had managed to get YN's input on the nursery, which was very slowly coming together. He didn't mind if it was finished before the baby is here, because they won't be sleeping alone for a long time. She helped him build the cot, the dresser and changing table after the room was painted.

It was all wholesome and animal themed, on her suggestion. The room was already filled with a load of sensory toys, stuffed animals and loads of story books. The half of the room was already being planned to be padded with crash pads and a pretty soft rug on top and a small play fence. Everything was baby proof in the entire house already.

He was working from home now so he could do rest of work himself. Of course he encouraged YN to help him because all she did was sulk in her room after she was done working. But now she's not working. Her summer break as teacher had begun and she'd miss the next semester due to her maternity leave.

Just two weeks and half to the due date. It was rhe thirty-ninth week, almost fortieth.

"I don't know mum." YN overhead Harry talking to his mother about something. He was on his laptop looking for something, "yup that's great idea, I'll ask the doctor." She reckoned it must be about the baby so she waddled carefully towards him.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"I don't know which diapers to get. What if little bean has sensitive skin?" He whined in concern.

YN tried to hold back her laugh but failed, "get the reusable cotton ones. But yeah, you'll have to wash like a fifty of them at least twice a day."

"Is that really a good choice then?" He asked, now intrigued.

"Hmm." YN nodded. "I've usually seen grandma's making cloth diapers from used cotton clothes for babies. It's not harsh on their skin. I looked after my brother when he was a baby and my dad and grandma prohibited the use of single use diapers, unless we were going out or something. I've heard from a few friends back home that now you can buy those online too."

"Yeah?" He was impressed, "how many do you think will the baby need?"

"The more the merrier." She shrugged and started waddling back in kitchen.

There was a lot of left over noodles left in the fridge from lunch, which Lizzie left because she had leave early due to some emergencies. Or that all would go to the homeless in the community. The lady hated seeing the food go to waste.

Harry followed after her. He found her new waddle adorable. "You having dinner?"

"Yeah, you want me to heat up some for you too?" She asked as she took out the container.

"Yeah," he nodded, "do you want to watch a movie or something?" To which she surprisingly agreed.

He's been worried about her lately spending all her days in her room. Making up excuses so she can be in her room. They ate and sat watching The Witcher together on the sofa.

Harry had her tucked closer to him with his hand on the bump. Both were getting comfortable with one another. It was getting harder and harder for Harry to find a way fast enough to confess his feelings for her. He doesn't want it to be too late, but he barely knows how to. With a baby in mix.

He is in a complicated situation.

So is YN. She's grown comfortable around him. It's difficult when he's got to go for in person meeting last minute. She's gotten used to his antiques and how he bugs her every other hour to eat something or just do something with him. He's also managed to get her out for a nice walk, luring her with promises of ice cream. Which worked all the time.

She knows she's way past her infatuation, crush, and like phases with him. She's halfway sure she's in love with him. It was new.

She's only been with one person before but it only lasted for barely three months. She's been through the first few stages, but not this.

And there is a baby in the mix. Everything is happening backwards or out of order to confuse her even more.

But she's sleepy because has stopped moving for a few minutes now, or at least they've stopped kicking and punching her insides. She's learned to. She snuggled closer to Harry as her eyelids got heavier and heavier, until she was fast asleep.

......................................................................

It was the forty-first week. Harry and YN were out on a walk to go get ice cream. He had just gotten home from his last minute meeting. Lizzie so nicely offered to stay with her until he's back home. He hadn't even got to change as he directly to serving YN the dinner before he took her out to ice cream place.

They met his elderly neighbours who thought that he's got a wife now, they congratulated the couple as they walked past after a few minutes of talking. It was awkward, but made YN feel silly and giddy inside.

Turned out they know Harry very well, but the elderly couple seemed to be in hurry before either them could say anything. The walk to and from ice cream shop was slightly awkward. But they had to hurry back as YN was felt a sharp contraction.

Highly likely, it wasn't a Braxton Hicks thing, given the baby could arrive anytime.

YN wanted to be back in comfort of her bed in case anything happens. And Harry said he wanted to talk about something to her, maybe share something.

Maybe it was about how she'll have to leave the baby now. Maybe there were a few legal obligations. She had so many maybe's running through her mind in that moment. And Harry forgot about it in worries of what was happening.

Her contractions kept getting closer and closer rapidly every hour and half. It wasn't until her water broke. She was in bathroom luckily.

YN started panicking inside. She's not the one to scream when in pain, but she is wincing. It felt like her period cramps were on some heavy drugs and steroids.

"Hey, hey look at me." Harry tried to get her attention, "breathe with me, darling, it's okay." He did the rapid breathing exercises with her a few times before he got to getting the hospital bag. Even stuffed a spare outfit managed to get in the bag.

The drive to the car was painful and slow. There was no traffic given it was four in the morning. Harry had to drive carefully. He just hated seeing her cry in pain like that, getting flashbacks. This time the baby is healthy, YN is healthy. He parked closee to the entrance.

"Help me out please." YN mumbled.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry hurried out, but another contraction hit her. "It's okay, breathe baby." He held her hand tightly.

"It hurts, it hurts so bad!" She is crying, tears falling down her cheeks and all.

"It is going to hurt more if you keep holding your breath, darling." He rubbed his hand on her back.

She sighed, "I'm good, I'm good." Announcing she carefully stepped out of the car.

Harry followed her behind closely because she said she can walk just fine. Or waddle just fine enough. They were just halfway through the maternity department when another contraction hit her.

She stopped mumbling, grabbing onto Harry for support.

YN knew she can't handle this pain, she can only imagine how it would be pushing a heavy ass baby out through her vagina. It was going to hurt even more. A lot more. She can't do that now. Can she back off?

"We're so close love, you think you can walk?" Harry asked.

"Yes." She nodded and walked to the reception where they were checked in.

YN was asked to change into a hospital gown immediately and checked on. She was dilating on a good pace, and she was advised to move around to speed up the process even faster. She paced back and forth in the room but her pain was getting worse every passing contraction.

"You, you want to call your family and tell them?" YN suggested as she sped walked up and down in the labour and delivery room.

"I will do that later, YN," he shared, "you can ask for the epidural, you know?"

"I know, I know, just not now." She sniffled on her tears, but she broke down crying sat on the edge of hospital bed.

"Hey, c'mere." He hugged her, "everything is going just fine."

"I don't know, I don't know if I can do this." She sobbed, "I want to have a C-section. I can't do this."

"It's more risky, darling." Harry was surprised, "you can do this."

"Just talk to the doctor for me, please--" another contraction hit her right in the crotch.

And Harry did. After all it's her body, she can decide whatever. Given she's in agony and her decisions might not be right. He wouldn't invalidate her feelings like that. But Doctor Wilson adviced against her idea, unless there is an emergency, because honestly it had more risks to her. That made her real upset.

"Hey, you know there are cons to it." Harry cooed as he sat next to her, "the recovery time is longer, it's more painful, there are more chances of hemorrhage. I know you can do it."

"I don't care, I just want them to healthy."

"They're healthy, love, look you can see and hear their heartbeats there." He pointed at the heart monitor which was keeping track of the baby's heartbeat.

It was half past six in the morning, when YN finally gave in and asked for an epidural at eight centimetres dilation. Harry was asked to step out just so the room is clear and the procedure is done without any interruptions. It took them a whole hour to call him back in. Meanwhile he called his mother and asked her to come over if she could, he honestly didn't know what he could do. YN was in so much pain and it was getting just as hard on him to watch. He cried on the phone call with his mum.

But just a few minutes later YN seemed less stressed. "How are you feeling now?"

"Can't feel much waist down." She chuckled slightly, "this is why I waited so long to get the epidural."

"At the pain is less now, right?"

"Mhmm."

"You want anything?" He sniffled.

"You were crying?" She realised, "no, why are you crying Harry, the baby is fine."

"I know, I know." He nodded, "I'll get you more ice chips, yeah, just five minutes?"

"Okay."

Harry so badly wanted to tell her that he cares about her as well there. He is crying of two reasons, the baby is going to be here today and he just can't see her suffer like that. His mum was there by that time. She brought him coffee and said Gemma was on the way with breakfast for everyone.

Harry just couldn't bring himself to eat until way after the baby is here. But it was nice of his sister. His mum went out to get more bottles of water whilst he brought the ice chips to YN. He noticed the contraction were way harder than he last checked but she wasn't hissing in pain like before rather she lied there with her eyes closed.

"Hey YN, you want anything?" He asked again handing her cup.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you for this." She smiled.

"Those are higher than the last time I checked." He looked at the monitor again.

"It's feels like period cramps now." She shared, "it's bearable."

"That great!" He flashed his dimply smile finally. "Now, I, I-- to be honest I don't know what to do or say, so I just asked my mum to come over. She can be a great help, I, I can just call her in if you need to talk to her about anything which she can help with."

"No, you didn't had to bother her. I'm fine." A crease formed between her brows, a look of worry. He should asked his family to come visit after the baby was here, especially his mother. She bet the lady has more important work to do than be there to help her.

"It's alright, love." It was his mother. Pretty evident as Harry looks like a copy of her. "You're not a bother." She placed the water bottles on the side table. "I'm Anne, Harry's mum."

"Hello, I'm YN," she greeted her with a smile, "I feel bad now."

"It's okay, you can tell me what you need. I had two kids of my own, so I bet I can be pretty good help." Anne smiled.

She waited around the back as nurse checked on YN twice already. Harry sat next to her on the edge of her bed. His mum of course knew everything, he told her before he even told YN about it. In hope she might have a way to help him. She tried but he is just too anxious for that.

"What are you going name them?" She asked.

"Have a few names picked out, you want to help me?" He pulled out his phone and opened his notes app before she could say anything. "Let me know if you have any suggestions too." He handed her his phone. He had a list of ten names each for boy and girl and some just neutral names.

"You sure you want me to have a look?"

"Of course!" He shrugged.

Another good few hours went by, YN was starting to feel more pain but it was not something crazy. She was finally given a green flag for pushing. It wasn't as painful as she thought it would be due to the epidural she got, though she's sure it's gonna kick once it wears off. She didn't know how long she has been pushing for or now many were needed, all she thought about the baby's health. A nurse placed a clean towel over her chest.

YN panicked as the baby didn't started crying immediately, but they did once their back was rubbed. It was a loud high pitched scream cry.

"It's a girl!" Doctor Wilson announced as she placed the girl on her chest and YN stopped breathing in that moment.

That shouldn't have happened. They should have taken the baby away immediately. Now she was holding onto her, she doesn't want to let go. She started sobbing too.

"She does have a lot of hair." Harry commented, that's when YN realised she wasn't alone in the room with the new baby girl, her crying had gotten down to just few whimpers.

"Yeah!" YN cooed.

"Alright, YN a few more pushes for the afterbirth." Doctor Wilson caught her attention and someone was picking up the girl off her chest.

"No, no don't take her please." YN panicked, "please!"

"Can we please hold her longer?" Harry asked the nurse who of course agreed to it. YN held onto the girl the entire time until the pediatrician said they really have to weigh and check on the baby.

Harry stayed by her side as his mum was there whilst they checked the baby girl. YN looked at him confused. "You want some water?" He fetched her the bottle of water, "you did so amazing, she's here. It's a girl!"

"Like you wanted." YN nodded.

......................................................................

YN was all changed up into a clean hospital gown. She was given a very hearty meal.

The baby girl weighed nine pounds and eight ounces, no wonder why YN couldn't walk by the very end. She's definitely got a lot of hair on her head.

YN wasn't asked to feed her, hell, she haven't even got to see her again even though they're in the same room. She have been bleeding very bad so her stay at the hospital will be by the next evening. It was way past afternoon now. Harry has been going back and forth between her and the baby girl. She had asked him to talk to the pediatrician saying she's fine there as the nurse checked on her.

She doesn't even know what's her name is going to be.

"Ms. YLN, do you have family or friends we can call up for your discharge next day?" A nurse asked YN, everyone knows it's just a surrogacy case. By the talk of nurse, looked like Harry could take the baby home by tonight or even by early evening.

"Yeah, I, I'll call my friend." She nodded. The lady then proceeded to ask her questions on her pain levels, how she was feeling.

"Alright, we'll move you to the recovery room but you are advised to walk around every hour or so, for as much as you physically can." The nurse explained, "please don't push yourself to do more than you can."

"I will." YN nodded again. She tried to get off her bed and go find her phone in the mess which was the sofa chair now. It was painful, every step but she has to move around anyway, it wasn't certainly her first time out of bed after giving birth. She can say it was teeny bit less pain. She found her phone to text Julia to come over toni to the hospital. "Hello."

"Hey sexy, what's up?" Julia spoke.

"Just had the baby few hours ago." YN shared, talking as low as she could, "can I please ask you for a favour?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"I want you to come pick me up tomorrow, they want to keep me here overnight so I don't bleed out." YN shared, "and uhhhh... I'll also be needing help to get, ummm... my clothes and stuff the next morning. I, I promise I'll be out as soon as I find a flat."

"Are you kidding me?" Is the first thing Julia yelled, "isn't Harry going to be taking care of the afterbirth thing too?"

"I don't know. I forgot. I'm just feeling so alone right now. I don't want to bother him, he's with the baby and his mum." YN was trying hard not to cry. "Please come and see me?"

"I, I will as soon as I get off work, yeah?" Julia now sounded worried, "I'll ask if I can clock out early."

"Thank you!"

"Don't mention it, I'll be there. I promise!"

"Okay." She hung up the call.

"Hey, what are you doing out of bed love?" She heard Harry, "you feeling better now?"

"Yeah." She sounded walking back to the bed, "nurse said I'll be moved to the recovery room. They want to keep here for the night."

"No, what's wrong?" He followed her, baby in his arms. YN watched Anne leave whilst on a phone call, "what did they say?"

"It's nothing, I, I am bleeding too much." She shared, "I, I should probably go to the bathroom now."

"You want me to call the nurse?"

"No, I'll be fine." YN walked to the loo as fast as she could. When she came out the baby was crying and whining. The nurses were in and out of the room since they got there, she is already overwhelmed enough.

"Do you know how to swaddle her?" Harry sounded terrified, "changed her nappy, I don't know what's going on!"

"Let me see." She went ahead and put the new baby in a warm cosy swaddle.

"That's incredible!" Harry gasped, "look at her, all cosy now."

"Yeah." Baby girl is still whining. She's defin hungry. "Did she eat anything?"

"No, I wanted to ask if, if you wanted to breastfeed her. Only if you're fine." Harry shared, "the nurse is gone to bring the formula just incase."

"You'd be fine with that?"

"You sound surprised. Of course I'd be fine with that." He doesn't know what is going on. "I mean it's your choice at the end."

"I, I know--" before she could say anything further the nurse was back. But she rather ended up showing YN now to feed the baby.

That made her feel like dying now as she watched the baby nurse from her breast. She's in an awful state in that moment. But the baby had a full tummy, was burped and lied on her cot. It's exhausting being born, isn't it!

"Hey, what is going on YN?" Harry asked, finally.

"Nothing, I told you."

"It's not nothing. You're spacing out, come on talk to me darling." He cooed as he sat on the edge of her bed, "what did you mean they're going to move you to the recovery room? I don't know what is going on."

"You're not going home with her?"

"Not without you, no." He seemed more confused, "I'm more confused, YN."

"The nurse told me to call family or friends so they can take me home the next day." She shared, "I, I guess you can take her home in a few hours."

"You're coming home. Can't leave you like this here." He is now getting mad, "I told you I'm going to take care of you after the baby is here as well, didn't I? Not going to leave you alone. Little bean needs you, I need you."

"Why did she said it like that then?" She looked at him with eyes pooled up with tears.

"I'll talk to them," he assured her, "I know why she said it like that. I promise you I'm not going to leave you here. Why didn't you tell me before, hmm?"

"You were with you mother and baby, didn't wanted to bother you."

"I'm sorry you felt that way, but you're never a bother. Especially to me." He pushed her baby hair out of her face, "we'll go to the recovery room, have something to tell you."

"Okay." YN nodded, "I, I need to tell Julia, I, I called as I panicked. I'm sorry."

"It's alright." He assured her again, "you can ask your friends to come see her when we're out of here so it's more comfortable."

Harry made sure to make it clear that the baby and the mother are going to stay until she is discharged too, and that she is to be treated kindly there. He's seen a few nurses there being mean to her. Just because they knew little bean is related to her too and she was just giving away her child like that. Those nurses had a shift change anyway.

Gemma came over to see the baby too, she came with warm and healthy lunch. It was from a restaurant as she burnt the lasagna she was making on accident, hence why Anne hurried out. Least to say Gemma cried holding little bean.

"Is that hair underneath the hat?" She slightly pushed the hat back to check, "oh my god, yeah!"

"Yeah, got that from her mum." Harry bragged, YN almost choked on the water she was drinking hearing him say that.

Both of the ladies stayed till the last visiting hours. Finally there was quietness. Little bean had yet another meal, and is now laying on YN's shoulder. She's also been already holding up her head, and opening her eyes. She got those from Harry. Her fluffy cheeks had the slightest of the dimples.

It was a Styles trademark now, the dimples.

"When we get back," Harry spoke catching YN's attention, "I wanted to ask you a few things, make sure you're fine with them."

"Mhmm."

"I don't quite know how to help, this is obviously new. So I looked into it, found out about the Doula, they come in and help with the postpartum period, help take care of the baby. It'll be healthy for you and her." He tried his best to explain it in a best way possible, "I, I also know it's a huge part of the culture where you're from. We can or not go with the confinement thing, however you prefer it. So if you're fine with that, or we can figure it out as we go."

"No, no, I'd really like that." YN agreed, "frankly I don't know what to do either, I'm more tired now."

"We can stay in our little bubble until you recover and she's a bit older then, yeah?" He suggested, "and also, I've been wanting to ask you this for a while."

"Hmm, what?"

"I, I know you did not sign up for this. Was thinking of terminating the agreement you signed." He was holding onto his breath tightly, readying himself for her reaction, "I, I think she'd be more happier to have her second parent around."

"Really?" She's now crying again. The baby can call her Mumma now.

"Mhmm, I've already told my lawyer to get on it." He explained and a few more things, "we'll just have to sign the discharge papers and her birth certificate tomorrow before we take her home."

It warmed his heart to see how much little bean is loved already. The first time he got to hold her, all of the air was sucked out of his lungs. So tiny, and she felt warm against him, just how she moved her head to find a comfortable position to sleep on in his arms, hopefully feeling safe and sound.

It was a rainbows and unicorns moment for him. He thought he wouldn't be able to feel that connection with her, though she's a whole new person. He needs time to get to know her. It was all unexplainable.

It made him furious seeing how she's been treated by some of the nurses today, but it all sorted now. He dropped a quick message to his assistant to get the Doula on board. He found someone just perfect. It was an Indian lady around his mum's age with decades and decades worth of experience. It would also make YN feel at home.

Even though he stayed away from making his own conclusions, he could tell YN was slipping away in her thoughts with the baby. He's seen how bonded she already was and he'd hear her randomly talking to bump, or taking pictures in the mirrors around the house. Her initial decision of declining his offer has always been enough to remind him. She held back on so many of her opinions.

He wanted to hear them all. He figured it would be very unfair for both baby girl and YN to be away from one another.

"Is it going to be me visiting her every weekend? Or how, how do you want it to go?" YN asked.

"About that..." Harry shuffled in his seat, which has been the same since they got to the hospital, right on the edge of her bed. "Can I hold your hand for this?" And he grabbed a hold of her hand which didn't had a IV needle in it. "Don't want you slapping me across the face."

"I would never!" She gasped making him chuckle sheepishly.

"Just kidding." He took in a deep breath. "I want to make that everyday. I'm going to be so bad at this, at least for a while. But I've grown fond of you. So, so, so fond of you, couldn't realise when I fell in love with you. I want to be with you if you want that. Things are not planned but they can be figured on the way. We can do this together." He doesn't even want to think about her rejecting him.

"Wait," a blank look on her face made him more and more anxious. She's just processing he reckoned. "You're saying you like me?"

"Yeah..." He tried to process her question too, "well, it's more than that actually."

"You like me?" She asked again, emphasising the first and last word of her question.

"Let's switch that like for love, then yes. Most definitely, yes!" He said, little firmly. She just looked so flabbergasted.

"So you don't like me?" She spoke overwhelmed of everything in that moment, "wait, what? My brain just... What?" That made Harry giggle.

"Is it that hard to believe I'd ever say that?" He asked.

"Never imagined you'd say that, to me." She scoffed in disbelief, she still doubts he might be pranking her.

"And why would you say that?"

"I don't know," she sighed almost on the edge of crying, "I've been nothing but mean to you all this time, even though I didn't mean to. I'm sorry I don't mean to cry either, I don't know what is going on!" And the water works started.

"Awh, darling it's alright!" Harry cooed and immediately pulled her in a hug, he recieved one right back, "today have been so overwhelming for you, I know that but couldn't wait till tomorrow. We have to sign up the paper work and I reckoned it would be bad idea to put you in spot on the last moment, in case you have changed your mind about anything."

"No, I, I will not." She shook her head now sniffling. "Did you really mean what you said?"

"Every single word." He placed a feathery kiss on top of her head. He would be contained if she doesn't feel the same way, he at least tried. "I love you. More than a friend, more than just being mum of our new girl."

YN squeezed him tighter. Would be too awkward to tell him she loves him too? Why would it be awkward? She would sound stupid, wouldn't she?

"I love you." She mumbled.

"I love you!" He chuckled softly squeezing her right back.

"Oh, my back hurts." She shared pulling away from their hug. Her back really did hurt, every bone in her body hurt in that moment.

"Oops, sorry," he helped her with the pillows behind her back.

The baby girl softly sighing in her sleep right next to YN's hospital bed caught his attention. Her small mouth curled up in a O as she let out a long breath.

"It's tiring being born, isn't it?" Harry pulled the cot closer so he can place a kiss on his baby's head. She squirmed raising her swaddled legs kicking him right in the face, earning a gasp from him. "Oh, now I know how your Mummy felt."

"Hey she's just a baby!" He heard YN from behind.

"Yeah you two are going to team up against me." He surrendered in defeat already. "Just want to hold her for hours."

"She'll get used to it and won't let you sleep." YN shared. He agrees. She needs space to grow, he can be smothering all the time.

"A little smothering can be excused." He shrugged giving his full attention to her now. "This is going all backwards, isn't it?" He moved closer, holding her hand close to his heart after he placed a kiss on her knuckles.

"Doesn't matter though."

"No it doesn't." He smiled at her. "It's nearly dinner time, the Doula will be here anytime now."

"You already called her?" She looked rather shocked, "whem did you do that?"

"Texted my PA, and I got a text from her when you were feeding Bean, firmly warning me from giving you anything other than water." He shared.

"She's going to be the ultimate mama bear." YN giggled.

She's seen her Nani, her mum's mum looking after her daughters and her grand daughters during their postpartum confinement. It seems to be brutal that she has to give up icecream for the next six weeks, and burgers, and pizza, and every one of her favourite junk food, nothing but warm healthy food she'll be eating. It's going to be tough, but she signed up for it when she agreed.

Of course it isn't her Nani so it's going to be different she reckoned.

"Are we going to keep calling her Bean?" She asked.

"Not quite settled on any names you picked out." He said, "which one do you like the most? You chose, Starla, Evara and Juniper."

"I don't know." She shrugged.

"Come on, help me out here." He affirmed, "you know we're in this together."

"Okay, how about you pick from Juniper or Starla?" She shortened the list for him.

"Hmm, lets see." He looked at the baby for a second and back to YN. "Looks like she's meant to be named..." She looked at him eagerly, so hoping he'd pick her favourite name, "...Juniper?"

"Yeah!" She exclaimed, beaming at him now. "Is she going to have a middle name? It's a thing here right?"

"Don't you have a middle name?"

"I don't. We use our dads, or most recently either one of our parents name on the legal documents and stuff, otherwise no middle name." She explained.

"Shes definitely going to have a middle name." He nodded, "I have it picked out already."

"You do?"

"Mhmm, it's going to be a surprise for you till the morning." He leaned in closer, hoping he could steal a kiss finally.

"Okay--" before she could say anything there was a knock on the door. It was the Doula.

"Hello, I'm Mrs. Nimrit Singh." The lady introduced herself. Right off the bat, she had a very homely vibe to her, "I am the doula you contacted."

"Oh yes, I am Harry." Harry introduce himself, "and this is YN."

"Hello beta." She greeted YN with a bright smile and a warm hug.

"Hello," YN smiled back, all of a sudden feeling her anxiety and stress about how she'd deal with everything related to her postpartum. "This is Juniper."

"She's absolutely precious!" Mrs. Singh awed at the chubby baby sleeping in her cot.

"She is." Harry agreed.

"I brought you two dinner." She said, "and I also be wanting to know when you two will be going home so I can prepare accordingly."

"Doctor Wilson said we'll be discharged by tomorrow evening." YN shared and few more things Mrs. Singh asked for.

"Okay then, I'll bring breakfast in the morning." Mrs. Singh announced, "and Harry I want you to make sure she gets enough sleep and she doesn't drink or eat anything cold, it's not healthy for her or the baby."

"I will do that." Harry nodded, "no ice cream for you then Missy."

"No!" YN whined.

"Just six weeks and you can eat whatever you want." Mrs. Singh assured her, it melted YN's heart.

"Okay." She made a puppy face.

They all ate dinner together, getting to know one another as they'll be spending next month and half to two months together. Mrs. Singh is a very lovely lady, calm and bubbly at the same time. She stood shorter, graying hair at her hairline, pretty gray eyes held so much motherly love behind them. She also wanted to in and check herself jf the house was ready enough for the baby and the mother, ready a warm bath and stuff. It was all new to Harry but YN seemed to know what she was talking about there.

Mrs. Singh bonded well with YN and Harry. Apparently fathers go through a lot too during the postpartum, so she had asked him to tell her anything which is bothering him like she's his mother.

"Mrs. Singh, our house keeper and chef Lizzie will be there by five-thirty to six tomorrow if you needed anything." Harry shared as the lady was getting ready to leave for the night. "I'll let the guard know you'll be there."

"Thank you." She smiled again. She stayed for well over three hours before she left.

"She reminded me of my Mumma." YN shared, "she talks like her. She's even got gray eyes like my Mumma."

"Yeah? That's nice, isn't it?" Harey went and sat back on his place next to her, "I quite like her too, love her jokes."

YN moved to a side to make space for him, she patted the pillow, "come on."

"You sure?"

"Mhmm." And he got in, as he pulled her closer with his arm around her shoulder.

"You know this is probably the best day of my life." He shared.

"Is it?"

"Hmm." He sounded in agreement, "just took me too long to tell you how I feel. You've been anxious all day today."

"It's nothing, I forgot about it."

"Hope you at least could experience this to the fullest." He looked down to find him already looking at him, "you know the birth and all."

"Well, it was too enjoyable getting ripped open down there, but once doctor Wilson placed her on my chest it was everything!" And she'd give everything to experience that moment over and over again.

"Felt the same way when I held her for the first time." He shared too, "she was still whimpering, but calmed down as soon as I held her."

"You're her favourite."

"Oh come on, don't be jealous." He rolled his eyes jokingly.

"Don't roll your eyes at me." She scoffed.

"Bean's mummy is my favourite too." He gave her a cheeky smile making her blush, she hugged him tight in response. "Hey, look at me please?"

"Yes?" She raised her head yet again to look at him action nonchalant, that earned a laugh from him.

"Promise me we'll give everything to make this work?" He intertwined his fingers with hers over his tummy, "if this, for any reason doesn't work out, we'd work together for Bean?"

Harry's anxiety about this has been all time high, since he came to terms with his feelings. He's been cheated on twice, went through messiest breakups, he wants Juniper to have the best life as possible. Regardless of what happens to him.

"Don't want to jinx anything. You know I've stayed away from all this for long now." He continued, "just to give this a try with you. Hopefully it works out."

"Why won't it?" She said, "I know I'm not in place to say this, but everything works out at the end and if doesn't it's fine. Well, I just need a moment to freak out a little before, you know that's just how I function. We can make this work."

"Don't know how you do this." He just shook his head in disbelief, not even twelve hours ago she has been freaking out, wanting be cut open thinking it'll be easier way out. "We can make this work, yeah."

"Yeah, that's the attitude!" She hyped him up. He knows it's her teacher side coming out.

"I didn't want it to be this way, but will you be my girlfriend, YN?" He leaned in closer to just feel her warmth.

"Mhmm." She rested her forehead on his. It was enough for him to make the first move, place his lips on hers. Butterflies made their way upto her head from her tummy making her brain grow fuzzy for a moment.

"Waited so long for this too." He mumbled before he was kissing her again, feeling her hand rest over his cheek. He eventually pulled away to let her breathe. "Think we should try and get some sleep?" He placed a delicate kiss on the tip of her nose.

"Yep."

......................................................................

Harry and YN slept all fine the entire night. In fact YN was still asleep when Bean woke up. She was given her vaccines and checked on once again. She's all healthy and fit to go to her home. They were being discharged just before breakfast.

Harry forgot the car seat at home, so he asked Jeremy to get it who so kindly agreed too. Harry got all the paper work done, his lawyer had already had the previous agreement terminated first thing this morning.

"And what will be her full name?" The nurse asked. YN looked at Harry because she doesn't know her middle name yet.

"It will be Juniper Sophia Styles." Harry spoke, "or it can be YLN-Styles, YN?"

"Oh, I," she was flabbergasted again, "I, I don't mind."

"It'll be YLN-Styles please." Harry told the nurse, even spelled out the name. Just a few signatures later they were walking out with the baby and their stuff. Harry held the bag with his arm around YN's waist as she had Bean in her arms.

They're just gonna call her Bean. It suits her more. She is a bean.

"You picked my mum's name to be her middle name?" YN asked and she waddled next to him.

It is still painful to walk okay!

"Of course I did, darling." Her agreed.

"Is that the new baby!" Jeremy gasped.

"She is!" YN cooed walking over to him.

"Oh she's precious!" Who knew Bean would melt a tough looking six and half feet bulky guy awing like a little person, but she did. "Can I hold her?"

"Of course you can!" YN handed Bean to him carefully as she helped Harry with the bags. Yep, they came with one bag but are leaving with two as the hospital gave YN some stuff which she needs, like medications, sanitary products, there was a pump and jar or formula just in case. There was a lot of stuff.

The car ride home was peaceful and calm, Bean was awake just staring at her mum sitting next to her, but she's mostly sleepy. She's all bundled up even though it's a little warmer on Mrs. Singh's advice. She needs time to adjust because it has always been warm in her mummy's belly. Her tiny hands were in tiny mittens and there was tiny beanie on her head which her Aunty Gemma knitted just for her by hand.

Jeremy drove as Harry was sat in the passenger seat.

They're going home.

YN is both anxious and excited to see what life has in store in future. At least she wouldn't have to leave her baby and act like she doesn't exist for the rest of her life. That was like the universe worth of weight lifted off her back.

......................................................................

N O T E :

Phewwww! It took longer than I expected to finish!

If you kept up with this story, this is the last part. There won't be more parts of these.

I might do little check-ins with them, if I get enough requests and responses. If not then I won't. I left it on an open ending.

......................................................................

Tag list:

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @japanchrry @onlyangelrain @supersanelyromantic @tenaciousperfectionunknown @haarrrys @originalsoulcollector @harrysgirl-1d @lomlhstyles @im-an-overthinker @moonys-star @blackbookwhore @tenaciousperfectionunknown @stilesissaved @allthelovehes @novalunosising @sunshinemoonsposts @harryssky1 @dear-mylove @sofia-faustina @stylesfever

Lemme know if you want to added to the tag list

234 notes · View notes

angelsanarchy · 1 year ago

Text

Glass Houses: Jack Thurlow x Y/N Series CH 10 -> CH 11

"He's a pretty good cuddle buddy." "I'm glad he can bring you some comfort."

Tagging: @roryculkinluvr @thatsthewrongwallcraig @icarus-star @cc-luvr @madamemaximoff06 @shady-the-simp @quicksilversg1rl @s-0lar @kristennero-wallacewellsver @ophelialaufey @mayathepsychic1999

Jack spent the majority of the day hanging out with Ace. He didn't have it in him to work on his writing today. All he wanted to do was stay active long enough that he would be able to sleep through the night like he had last night. He didn't see himself being able to actually get it up twice in one week so physical exhaustion the manual labor route was all he could do.

Ace was actually really obedient off leash. He ran him around the backyard, playing catch with him using one of his dad's old tennis balls. He shuffled under his feet almost tripping him a few times as he re-arranged new furniture upstairs. He even watched Jack exercise, or at least a poor, uncoordinated workout with a few smoke breaks mixed into it. He knew he would eventually have to quit but he hadn't planned on it being any time soon.

By the time they had eaten, showered and retired to bed, Ace was snuggled next to Jack the moment he flopped down on the bed. He hadn't realized what time it was but the ping of his phone startled him.

Y/N: Hey you're probably sleeping already but I just wanted to give you a heads up that we're back home and I will pick Ace up in the morning.

Jack frowned knowing he was going to lose his bed buddy but his stomach jilted with excitement knowing Y/n was home.

Jack: You didn't wake me. Ace and I just laid down, did you want me to bring him home now?

Jack waited for another message but the phone started ringing, making Ace jump.

"Hey, I can get dressed and bring him to you-"

"No no don't get up. I'm too exhausted to deal with his excitement tonight so he can stay as long you're okay with it." Y/n sounded tired.

"Yeah we'll be fine tonight." Jack reassured.

"Oh I have no doubts." Y/n chuckled.

"Yeah he's a pretty good cuddle buddy." Jack gave him a squeeze.

"I'm glad he can bring you some comfort." Y/n's smile came through the phone as Jack got comfortable.

"How's your mom doing?" Jack asked genuinely curious.

"She's doing a lot better. She was asking about Ace and I told her you were taking care of him so she may want to meet you. She's big on giving people flowers but I reminded her that you might not be a flowers guy." Y/n said making Jack chuckle.

"She doesn't need to do that. I mean I can appreciate some flowers but she's been through enough. No need to garden on my account." Jack felt relaxed talking to Y/n. He felt like the only other person he could talk to like this was Shanda except he never cared to see her naked.

"Well maybe you'll get lucky and I'll bring you more coffee and breakfast." Y/n offered.

"That would be nice but the way my sleep schedule is, I may still be knocked out at 11AM." Jack rubbed at his face and could hear her click her tongue against her teeth.

"Must be nice! I wish I could sleep in." She teased.

"Trust me, I would love to have a normal sleep schedule but my medications have other plans." Jack glanced over at the pill bottle on the nightstand.

"Your meds giving you a hard time?" Y/n asked concerned.

"Nothing I can't live with I guess. Just never being able to sleep or eat right." Jack's chuckle made Y/n frown.

"Oh so just those two life necessities? You know, you're allowed to try different meds to counteract some of those side effects. You should really talk to your doctor about some of those side effects messing with you." Y/n sincerely cared about Jack not feeling well. He chalked it up to her being a nurse.

"Nah he already knows. Plus I've recently had a surprising change that I'm afraid I might lose if I start a new medication." Jack spoke so freely that he felt himself getting slightly hard just at the mention of what happened last night.

"Oh yeah? That's great. Big change like more energy or small change like your body doesn't ache as much. I know muscle spasms are a bitch." Her knowledge of medication side effects might be useful if he would just accept the help.

"Um...well I was able to get an erection for the first time in a year." Jack laughed earning a whistle through the phone.

"Whoa whoa whoa, that's great but it's only a big change if you were able to finish..." Y/n waited for his answer and his silence made them both erupt in laughter.

"Jack Thurlow, you absolute slut! Congratulations on a long suffering orgasm." Y/n practically sang. Jack couldn't help but wonder what she would think if she knew she had a hand in it, no pun intended.

"Thank you. No one was more surprised than me but it helped me sleep so it was definitely a win." Jack sighed giving his chub a slight rub.

"As great as that is, you should still consider some alternatives or additives. Cumming is wonderful but being able to eat with nausea and sleep without interruption only makes that even better." Y/n's suggest didn't fall on deaf ears.

"I will consider talking to my doc about some changes if you promise to bring me a breakfast burrito tomorrow." Jack smiled knowing she was returning it on the other end of the line.

"Deal. Now put your pants back on! No jerking off on or near my dog you horny nerd." Jack's laugh was straight from the belly. He hadn't laughed so hard in longer than he could remember.

"I make no promises." Jack joked.

"Goodnight Jack." Y/n laughed into the phone.

"Goodnight." He hung the phone up and noticed he was still smiling even after placing the phone on the nightstand. Ace stared at him for a few moments and Jack reached out to scratch his head.

"She's not so bad, Ace. Not so bad at all." Jack snuggled down behind Ace ready to fall asleep clutching the pup. He wasn't sure if he was actually exhausted or if his brain was ready to shut down just so he could get to morning faster.

#Jack Thurlow #Jack Goes Home #Jack Thurlow x Y/n #Glass Houses Series #Glass Houses #One Shot Series #Culkin Cult #Rory Culkin #10/38

75 notes · View notes

bordysbae · 2 years ago

Note

Any imagine imagine with bords 🤍

“family visit”

thomas bordeleau x f!reader

as you lay in your shared bed, watching your phone, you hear your boyfriend groan and roll over on his side to face you. "morning" you smile at him, then continue looking at your phone.

"morning" he says with his raspy morning voice that never fails to attract you. he begins to stretch out his muscular arms and moves close to you, laying his head on your lap, admiring you.

"stop staring at me" you blush, using your hands and phone to hide your face. "hmm.. no" he smirks, taking your phone from you and placing it on the nightstand. he then re-rests his head on you, but now his head is on your chest, looking out the window. you gently lower the covers revealing his bare back. you trace the tattoo on his back and the sleeve covering his arm. you feel him smile on your chest, and see his eyes start to flutter shut.

thomas has always loved whenever you trace his tattoos. whenever you're not home while he's trying to fall asleep, he traces his own arm pretending that it's you, but he'd never tell you about that, it's his biggest secret.

"because we have to go pick up your parents and sister from the airport in an hour, and i need to get ready"

"you don't need to get ready, you look fine. 5 more minutes"

you gasp and put a hand to your heart, slightly above his head, pretending to be fake hurt. "i only look fine?!" you say sarcastically. "yeah" he smirks at you, causing you both to laugh. "okay thom, can i please get up?" you ask

"fine i guess so" he groans and rolls off of you. you kiss his head softly and go to start the shower. before you get in it, you peak around the bathroom door and don't see thomas in the bed anymore. after your brisk shower, you begin doing your makeup at the bathroom counter. thomas knocks on the door and you tell him to come in.

"i need to pee, so you might want to leave" he chuckles as he walks in

"oh nothing i haven't seen before!" you say as you walk out and close the bathroom door behind you, causing both him and you to start laughing hysterically.

—

after an hour of you getting ready and thomas rushing you, you guys finally make it to the airport to pick up his family. this is going to be the fourth time you've met his family. you guys have been dating for a year and half as of 2 days ago. you guys have visited his parents twice and they've visited thomas once before while you guys had just began dating, and thomas has met you family a few times before too.

as you're waiting by the luggage carousel, you see his family coming down the escalator looking for you and thomas. jade spots you both and points as she hurries over to you guys, leaving her parents behind her. she embraces you in a big hug, and you stick your tongue out at thomas from over her shoulder

you and jade have formed a great bond, as she looks up to you like an older sister. you and jade facetime quite often, so it's always exciting to be able to see her. she comes to visit thomas more often than her parents since they're busy people, but she doesn't mind coming alone.

"excuse me! you hug her before me?!" thomas asks as jade pulls away.

"um... yeah?!" she laughs and hugs her brother. "i don't blame her! hi honey" thomas' mom smiles and pulls you into a warm hug, hugging you before her own son.

"oh my god clearly everyone here hates me!" thomas says sarcastically as he goes to hug both his parents. his dad then pulls you into a side hug and you guys wait for their luggage to come around.

"welcome to the bay area guys! how was your flight?" you ask the girls while walking to the car, since the boys are a bit farther up ahead.

"it wasn't too bad, i'm glad that it's over though" his mom says. "i agree" jade chimes in. when his parents came to visit him for the first time, you guys had only been dating for a month, so you weren't living together. 3 months ago you guys bought an apartment together, and there's an extra bedroom where his parents will be sleeping. unfortunately that leaves jade to the couch, but she doesn't mind.

—

"wow this apartment is so nice! you guys decorated so cutely!" his mom says admiring the family room. "all the decor credits go to y/n" thomas beams with a cheesy smile

“he helped a little bit,” you smile. "no need to lie" jade says, causing everyone to laugh. "oh shut up, you wanna go?” he asks her, throwing one of the throw pillows at her

"oh it's on! y/n, you're my backup" jade smirks hitting him with the pillow. you grab one off of the couch and start hitting him as well, and his parents stand there laughing hysterically. a few moments later thomas throws you over his shoulder and you start laughing even harder, and so does his family.

"don't you dare drop her thomas!" his mom says in between laughs. "don't worry i won't" he says placing you down back on your feet.

"i hate you!" you laugh hitting his chest playfully. "mhm sure. anyways, do you guys want to get lunch? it's almost 12," thomas says as he takes his parents suitcase into their bedroom.

“yeah sure! what’s good around here?” his dad asks you both. "theres a really cute café a block away, would you guys be alright with walking?" you say, as thomas walks back into the family room where you guys are standing.

"yesss let's go!" jade says, dragging out the ‘s.’ "alright let me go change out of my gross airport clothes," his mom says. "that's smart, i'll go do same. can i change in your guys' bedroom?" jade asks, causing you and thomas to both nod. you point your finger to your bedroom, and she walks away with her suitcase.

"i guess that's my queue to go change as well" his dad laughs and you smile at him. suddenly thomas wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. you both sway side to side as you look up at him and he looks down at you. you're both standing there embracing each other, when your cute moment is cut short when you guys hear a camera click. you both snap your heads to the left and see jade standing with her camera, smirking.

"i am so jealous" she scoffs jokingly. "oh my gosh! send me that!" you exclaim rushing over to see the photo

"send me it too! i want to post it on my instagram story" thomas says, causing your heart to flutter. "okay is everyone ready?" his dad says, putting on a thin puffer jacket

"yup now let's goooo" thomas drags out the ‘o’ and pushes both you and everyone else towards the door. as thomas, jade, and their dad go over to the elevator, you stay behind to lock the door. his mom stands with you and says something that makes your heart melt, "i don't think i've ever seen him happier, you're the best person for him. if i don't hear wedding bells chiming soon, i'm gonna be very angry" she jokes, knowing you’re both way too young for marriage.

"oh, he makes me even happier" you say as you look over at him, just to see him already looking at you.

108 notes · View notes

jvstheworld · 1 year ago

Text

My Ted Lasso Re-watch: S1E2 (part 3)

Biscuits

BBQ sauce is important to Ted because of the time he spent with his dad in bars playing darts. It was probably one of the last good memories he has of him.

Ted can guess from Rebecca's glance at the biscuits he made her that those are the things that bring back memories for her. He knows she's not telling the truth but isn't ready to open up yet.

Rebecca wants to set Ted and Keeley up for a scandal.

Ted gives a lot of people army men.

The lion is a better look than the panda.

'Is it free?' Ted's priorities when it comes to food are correct. Always check for free food.

Perfect comedic timing for Keeley with the BJ answer. I just love Ted and Keeley's friendship.

Sam is homesick. He's also talks about how his dad rubs his earlobe when comforting him, something that happen when Ola arrives.

They film the home games where Crystal Palace play, so the first match of the show rightly is against Crystal Palace.

Arlo White making an appearance on the show after being in one of the NBC ads which Ted Lasso was created for.

'Fruity...' is a common term throughout the show for any swearing heard during matches.

When Ted first asks Jamie into his office, Jamie sits down on the desk, but as soon as he gets the first compliment he stands up and goes quiet, like he wasn't expecting Ted to do so. Ted gives him a compliment sandwich, one good thing, followed by an improvement, and then another good thing. Jamie needs to start playing as part of a team and not just for himself. He might be the best player, but if he can't reconcile only being 1 person out of 11 then he'll never be as great as he could be. The Total Football episode is Jamie at his best because he is working with everyone. But right now, it's all about glory. And that's his dad's influence, needing to be noticed, and be the greatest, otherwise he'll take it out on Jamie.

I love the interaction between Roy and Nate, and Nate accidentally smashing the window. Then you have Ted's reaction of 'what the hell?' and Roy's 'good lad' to top it off.

Roy is surprised at the showers being fixed. Poor Colin though, but that's what you get when you stand directly under the shower before you turn it on. Who does that? Don't you turn it on, wait for it to be at the right temp and then stand under it?

Trent is relentless at trying to get answers.

Jamie tried to follow what Ted said but as soon as he heard the fans talking shit he reverted back to being a prick. It's okay for him to be the only one to look good, if it means he gets to trash the rest of the team. It's Sam's birthday, you're allowed to celebrate that, even Higgins does, and Nate wants to.

Ted likes meeting people and having fun. It's how he brings out the best in people. And it means we get to see more of Shannon.

Ted bakes Rebecca's biscuits himself, because he's the kind of person who wants to got he extra mile for others.

#ted lasso #roy kent #jamie tartt #rebecca welton #nathan shelley #keeley jones #sam obisanya #ted lasso rewatch #tv show thoughts

8 notes · View notes

pynkhues · 2 years ago

Note

If at all helpful and/or encouraging, I cannot express how excited I am to read your post-succession fic. You're one of my favorite succession writers and I am waiting with baited breath for this fic :)

Ah! It is, anon! Thank you so, so much. You can have a little snippet if you like - the whole fic's set across two days about two weeks after the finale, so kinda keeping up with the rhythm of the last season, haha.

Roman texts her again that night, not a cartoon this time at least but a comment about Connor and Willa being back in New Mexico for a few days. Finally putting the old commune on the market, should I buy it? Always thought I’d make a good cult leader, and the place has great bones. Real Waco meets Burning Man potential, hey on a related note, you heard from Kendall since you 🔪

Shiv blinks, types how the fuck is that a related note?

Adds: and maybe don’t put your cult plans in writing or you’ll be done before you even start.

Dipshit.

The typing ellipsis appears on the screen, but Shiv doesn’t wait for him to reply. She has a shower, dries her hair, tells the chef she feels like lamb instead of chicken for dinner and ignores Rosaline’s barely concealed look of annoyance at the late instruction. Whatever. Shiv folds back onto the couch to read the barrage of messages Roman’s sent back in the meantime.

Hmm, good advice, you’re in the cult! A high-level position in the inner sanctum. You can do whatever Gerri’s job was.

Unless you think I stand a chance of swaying Gerri…

Pretend I didn’t send that, text withdrawn, you saw nothing, if you ever bring this up you’ll be out of the cult etc etc etc

And re: K – I’ve heard rumours he’s 🍳

Shiv frowns at the little saucepan emoji. Cooking?

She pastes it into Google, but all she gets is hot pansexual which is definitely not what Roman means, and she’s about to send a question mark back when the door opens and Tom steps through.

The air shifts like it always seems to these days, like it has maybe since he made CEO, since he chose her father over her, or maybe even earlier, maybe since he started flirting with a prison stint. It doesn’t chill, like, god, what a fucking cliché that would be, but it feels - - tighter almost. A spring pushed down, like the weight of them is too heavy for the moment. She swallows, slides her phone into to the pocket of her pants and sits up straight.

“Hey,” she says, and suddenly she realises Tom’s holding more than just his usual shit from work. In his hands is a box, which he lowers carefully to the dining room table as he pivots back to look at her on the couch.

“Hey,” he replies, and he looks almost surprised to see her here, or underprepared for her, maybe. Something. An oddly cautious expression on his often oddly cautious face, and it makes her stand up. Makes her close the distance between them, eyes first on him, then the box on the table.

“Good day at the office?”

“Sure. Matsson was in, but you already knew that.”

Shiv hums, offering nothing of her meeting with him, and glimpses instead the top of a frame in the box.

“What’s this?”

Somewhere behind them, she can hear Rosaline in the kitchen, the fzzt of the gas stove top and the whir of the oven, can hear the thrum of the central heating and feel it soft as a gloved hand on the side of her cheek, but none of it matters when she sees the first photograph in full.

Her father and Reagan, shoulder to shoulder, hand in short, fat fingered hand.

She glances back up at Tom, her face carefully blank.

“They’re from your dad’s office,” he tells her, like she didn’t know, shrugging out of his blazer and dropping it to the back of one of the chairs. Leaving it for Tilda to put away later. “I - - it’s been suggested that I move in fairly quickly, just for the. You know. The optics.”

“Oh, sure, clear out the ghosts.”

“Something like that. Marks a transition, I guess.”

Shiv sniffs, can’t help it, thumbs through the photos of her father with heads of state and right-leaning leaders. A few cultural figures, a few musicians. Morrissey and Johnny Cash. Something in her twists in a way it feels it shouldn't.

“Roman knows a guy,” she says, shooting for flippant. “Some sort of business shaman, if you want the place smudged.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Tom replies. His hand finds the edge of the box, the opposite side to where Shiv’s are, curling tentatively against the cardboard. “Most of it's been packed up now, but I just thought you might want these? Or your brothers might. Since they were obviously important to him.”

There’s something earnest to his tone, saccharine and soft, and she wonders if he means it, but in the same breath, she thinks these are worthless and he knows it. Only worth as much as the frames, the glass, the paper they’re printed on – all of them are otherwise online. Digitised in the family archive. The helmets, the medals, the war memorabilia, those are the only things with value.

She wonders if he’s kept them.

“I kept the photo of you.”

Which - -

Shiv blinks.

“You kept my father’s photo of me,” she echoes, and Tom must hear something in it, because he takes his hands from the edge of the box, shakes his head.

“It’s just a photo, Shiv. A nice photo.”

“Of me.”

“Of you.”

The one Matsson had his hands on in the office before he made clear she’d be fuckable to him again after she’s had this thing. A photo of her from before she and Tom even met, one where her hair was long and her face still round and soft with the last flush of her adolescence, even though she was in her twenties by then. She can even remember when it was taken – a father’s day photoshoot with her and him for Vogue, a spread and a story about the beautiful, promising daughters of hard, powerful men. Dad had had every photo from it printed, hell, she’d even kept a few herself, but Tom keeping it, Matsson holding it - -

The thought sinks somewhere deep in her, and she tucks her hair behind her ear, pushes the frames back in the box until the one of her father and Reagan faces up again, and somewhere beside her, Tom shifts his weight.

“He didn’t have any pictures of your brothers in there, you know. Guess you were the favourite.”

It’s something, she knows, an offering maybe more genuine than the photos, but all she can think is what does that matter? Where the fuck has it ever gotten her?

She turns, offers him a flat smile, and Tom gives one back.

#there's actually not that much tom in this fic (although he kind of haunts it a little)#but all four sibs'll be there bullying each other into surviving <3 #but yes haha #thank you again anon!#this was a lovely ask to get #succession fic #welcome to my ama

13 notes · View notes

arcxnumvitae · 2 years ago

Text

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 / 𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒

Did they believe in Santa?: No, since Christmas isn’t a holiday celebrated in Seelie, and thus there was no story or myth of Santa Clause to be told to kids. Aur only became aware of the concept when he was stranded in the mortal realm and his first thought of hearing a man who snuck into houses to leave children presents and who was repaid in milk and cookies was “...Hm, sounds like a fae.”

Were they a dinosaur or rock kid?: Dinosaurs...also not much of a talked about concept in Seelie. I guess rocks? He was pretty mature for a kid even as a kid regarding his mannerisms though so it’d only be to the extent of him finding a particularly pretty rock and admiring it.

Bugs or slimy critters?: He’s good with butterflies and stuff. He doesn’t have anything against bugs and slimy creatures, but he’s not like feeling more than neutral towards them.

Do they fidget? How?: Generally no, he’s pretty still intentionally so as to not give away any anxieties or whatever he’s feeling. If his guard is down though or he’s distracted, he’ll generally mess with his hair in some way if he’s agitated or thinking deeply on something. He’d stop himself if he noticed he was doing it though.

What were they frequently in trouble for as a child?: Aur was lameeee (I’m joking) as a kid and didn’t get in trouble because he didn’t really act out or do stuff he was told not to. Now, once he hit like young to mid-teens, after his mother passed, he started taking to sneaking out of the palace every now and then. It didn’t happen as frequently back then though so his dad never discovered it.

What underwear do they like?: ...Mother-- am I going to have to look up ancient Scottish underwear to see what the fae could be working with? I’m sure it’s just some type of cloth wrapped around the lower body, or maybe even nothing who knows. I’ve now returned from my Google search in the span between that last sentence and this one and probably braies? He of course worse modern underwear while he was living in the mortal world but it’s kind of hard to come by some Fruit of the Looms in Seelie.

Designs on clothing or no?: Sort of? He can at time have patterns, uh I guess reminiscent to fleur de lisle even though that’s a whole other region of inspiration but shhhh, it’s not actually fleur de lisle anyways.

Birthmarks?: Do his fae marks count? He was born with them after all. Absolutely the lines all over his body that curl like vines or ivy and are set into his skin. I’d even consider his two-colored eyes birthmarks. Green coloring in his blond hair, his tail, horns, etc. etc.

Do they have good self control?: Restraint to a Capital T. I know I would have blown up long ago if I were in Aur’s position. Generally though, he’s pretty good at keeping his emotions reined in at the moment something is happening and good with self-restraint.

Favorite franchise?: He’s...in Seelie too often to engage with franchises. Who has the time anyways?

Do they re-enact scenarios in the shower?: Nope. I’ll refrain from talking about how Seelie mainly utilizes baths anyways, or natural uhhh springs? Waterfalls? I forgot how to describe it, but either way they don’t have actual water running through pipes set into the walls showers. Aur would like to look into that at some point though....when he....has the time....

Do they tell the waiter that their order is wrong?: Pft, no. Not that he’s scared or too nervous to, he just...he’ll get the order and something in it’s wrong? He goes “Oh well”, and proceeds to eat it anyways. It just doesn’t seem like a big enough deal to him to get someone’s attention, point it out, and then wait for it to be fixed when he could be eating it right now.

Stairs or elevator?: Stairs. Once again, familiar with elevators because of the mortal world, but Seelie hasn’t really hit its Industrial Revolution era yet.

Are they an exaggerator when telling stories?: Nope, he’ll tell it how it is plain and simple. He’ll try to include all the relevant details, but he’s overall not a talkative person so he might leave out something that was small and didn’t seem big to him, but could have actually been.

Tagged by: @lured-into-wonderland!

#{Aur Headcanon #long post

6 notes · View notes

f10werfae · 2 years ago

Text

Hairy Shenanigans ☁️

Pairing: Husband! Chris Evans x Pregnant! Reader

Word count: 943

Summary: Y/n needs some help with her shaving capabilities and her husband is more than willing to help out

Warnings: Mentions of razors

————-

Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

—————

(Y/n's P.O.V)

“Chris? can you come in please?” I yelled out the bathroom door connected to our bedroom, listening to the gentle thuds of his footfalls as he approached the bathroom.

“Yeah? What’s up baby?” He asked leaning against the door with his arms crossed, his eyes raking over my naked figure standing in the glass shower.

“I need major help right now”

“What with?” Chris quirked up his brow, walking over with his hands coming to rub up and down my arms comfortingly.

“Would you be willing to help me shave? I can already tell it’s getting bushy down there and my legs are pissing me off” I complained stomping my feet a little, my 8 month pregnant stomach rippling.

“Of course baby, you shoulda said sooner”

“Why are you weirdly excited bub?” I questioned warily, his hand reaching to take the razor from my hands while his other hand reaching to pull me in for a kiss by my neck.

“Listen any excuse to touch my wife is a God given opportunity, and if you must know I have a talent in shaving. Do you see how well kept this beard is?”

“Righttt, you do know what to do right?”

“Hell yeah, now sit your pretty ass down on that shower bench and let me work my magic on your legs first” Chris said passively, kneeling down onto the floor and bringing one of my legs up across one of his knees.

(10 minutes later)

“See honey? no cuts or anything, just like I said”

“Okay okay no need to get cocky bub, you haven’t gotten to the worst part yet” I sighed standing up with his help, a smug smirk on his face as he caressed my stomach lovingly.

“Are you sure you’re okay to shave my bush?” I asked again for a final time.

“Okay? I’m really f*cking excited babe, this feels like a major intimate moment” He joked spinning the razor by the handle in his hand.

With one leg propped up on the bench, he bent down onto one leg and reached for the trimming scissors.

“Chris you just have to trim the bush first, not give it a mullet, what the hell is taking you so long” I huffed out, a hand cradling my bump and another holding onto Chris' head softly.

“Do you want a clean shave or not?” He sassed back

“Do you want me to piss on you or not?” I snarked, the baby in my stomach was constantly treating my bladder as a bouncy castle.

“Point taken, my lovely wife. Let’s just shave yeah” He chuckled nervously, his face getting more focused as he worked away.

“Chris I swear if you cut my vagina in some way, i’m gonna be so pissed”

“Can you shush for a second babe, i’m tryna manoeuvre around places here”

“Just be careful alright? i’ve never had anyone shave my pubes before”

“Yeah i’d like to think so honey, we’ve been together since high school”

“Idiot” I whispered smiling to myself, even after all these years we never fail to make each other laugh or tease each other. Our love only getting stronger by the day, proven by the life we both made inside me.

“Alright, I think i’ve gotten most if not all of the hairs. You’re welcome honey bun” He breathed out putting the razor aside, standing up to place a kiss on my lips.

“Will you be alright to shower on your own? Or do you need my help with that too baby?”

“Get outta here you perv, your son doesn’t approve” I laughed out, the kicks against my stomach causing flutters within my heart.

“Okay okay, but i’ll be waiting for you by the bed yeah? I call dibs on lotion duty and you can’t say otherwise” He spat out, stealing another kiss from me before running out the bathroom, leaving me speechless.

“Your dad’s crazy, squirt” Feeling a kick in reply which I took as an agreement, then I finally turned on the shower.

(35 minutes later)

Stepping out of the bathroom in just a towel, Chris did not lie when he said he was wanting to be on lotion duty. He sat there like a puppy at the edge of the bed, my skincare products laid out neatly beside him on the bed.

“Come here mama, take that robe of yours off”

“That desperate Chris? you are one horny ass man”

“Can you blame me? You’re just so sexy” He sighed out, walking over to me with my Argan oil in his hands. Easily he untied my robe and pushed it off my shoulders, letting it pool around my feet on the floor.

Pouring some of the oil onto his hands, he threw the bottle onto the bed before his hands started to wander. Starting at the top of my thighs, moving to my stomach which he took extra care with; then to my now swollen breasts. A comfortable silence between us both.

Next he picked up my mint scented lotion, sitting me onto the bed he got down and lifted a leg onto his shoulder. Massaging up and down both my legs one at a time, taking extra time over the delicate parts of my body and placing kisses wherever he saw fit.

“okay now what do you wanna wear to bed?” He asked wiping his hands onto my towel, using a hairbrush to softly run through my hair which he had just dried with the towel.

“I think i’m just going to go nude baby, is that okay?”

“Don’t need to ask me twice babe, i’m totally on board”

#chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans oneshot #chris evans x reader #romance

2K notes · View notes

jeremiah-fisher · 2 years ago

Text

you and me,

—a the summer i turned pretty fic starring my first and favourite book boyfriend, jeremiah fisher ♡

「part thirty-six, reader insert」

“Kiss me back, baby.”

The simple words whistled through my mind all night, and even as iridescent sunlight pours in through my windows today, they are still the only words in the English language I’m able to ponder. The words which powder my cheeks with red as I shower and the same words which make me feel light as a feather as I trek the short distance between the Fishers’ house and my own.

Conrad is on the porch when I walk up. His face is solemn, which is a common theme of this summer. His back is to me as he sits on a porch chair. I take a seat on the chair in front of him, waiting for him to notice my presence although his eyes are closed.

I watch him closely. His brown hair is spread over his eyes a little, the overgrown bits begging for a haircut even though I heard Susannah say he’d gotten one last month. It’s funny how fast boys’ hair grows. In freshman year, my mother made me get an atrocious haircut at some new salon she heard about on Facebook and it took ages for my hair to grow back after the ridiculously untalented stylist took her scissors to it. I checked the length every week to see how much had grown, only to be disappointed when it hadn’t grown much at all.

Conrad stretches his leg out and it hits mine. His mouth quirks up, like he knows something I don’t.

“This is how people get murdered, you know.”

His eyes flutter open, so slowly and peacefully, you would think I had just read him a lullaby. His eyes, so much like his brother’s, look back at me with ease. His state of pure relaxation unnerves me. Almost immediately, I attribute it to something other than the haze of late morning.

Did he smoke earlier? I sniff the air for evidence.

“I didn’t smoke,” he tells me, a chuckle spilling out from between his lips. “If that’s what you’re acting like a dog for.”

“Asshole,” I grumble, though I’m smiling. He’s right. He didn’t smoke. If he had, there would be a trace of it in the air but there isn’t one. Instead, everywhere around us just smells like the sea. Like the Cousins I’ve always known and dreamed about past the summer months. “What are you doing out here?”

“You mean on the porch… that my family owns?”

“Don’t act smart. You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t know what you mean, YN. Elaborate.”

I stand up and brush my knees of invisible dust and crumbs. If Conrad is acting like a brat, it means he’s pissed about something. He always takes his anger out on other people. “You’re such a tool. I was just trying to make conversation.”

Conrad reaches out for my wrist and pulls me back down, sending me right back into my seat. I fall with a hard thud, which surprisingly doesn’t snap the chair in half though it rattles enough to shake the foundation of the porch beneath us.

A strange look overtakes his face. Conrad bites the corner of his lip then lets go. “Listen,” he starts, “I need some advice.”

A laugh sputters out before I can catch it and think it through. I point a finger between him and me. “You want my advice. What, did pigs learn to fly? Did hell freeze over?” I faux gasp. “Did you get into Brown?”

Conrad gives me a look which reads ‘shut up.’ “I’m being serious. Help me.”

“You sound desperate.”

He runs a hand through his hair and leans back into his chair. A unique restlessness clouds his features. He looks unnerved, and not in his usual way. “Yeah, well.”

I lower my voice. “Is it about your mom?”

“No.”

“Then… your dad?”

Conrad snorts. “I wouldn’t talk to you about my dad.”

“Yeah? Then, who would you talk to? Belly?”

“Belly’s not talking to me at all.”

“Why? Did she finally figure out you’re not worth the trouble?” Childishly, Conrad kicks the leg of my chair. “Ouch!”

“I didn’t even hit you! I hit the chair!”

“Same difference! I felt the vibrations!”

This time, Conrad is the one to attempt standing to his feet. When he does, my eyes fall over him and I’m reminded of yet another change this summer. Even though I’ve gone all these years thinking of him like the older brother I wish I had had instead of the older sister I got, it would be idiotic to claim I’ve never noticed how good-looking Conrad Fisher is.

At six feet, he is toe-to-toe with Jeremiah in the height department. He has dark, ocean blue eyes which seem to bring you into their abyss each time you look into them. Belly used to say Conrad has ‘dreamy’ eyes. The kind of eyes people could write poetry about. I still think that way about his brother’s eyes but I’ve never said it aloud to anyone. Not even Ashlyn, who is supposed to be my best friend outside of Cousins.

Conrad is also ridiculously suave. He has been that way since we were all little kids.

He used to walk around saying words the rest of us didn’t know because he was obsessed with a set of encyclopedias at the summer house. He used to tear through each one like it was his sole purpose in life. He remembered most of the stuff he read, too. I used to admire that about him. The way he could remember everything. I wondered what that was like. Whether it was a special gift or if he felt like the world was sitting on his shoulders.

I reach out and push him back into his chair like he did me. His chest is hard as stone. “Sit down, Connie, and tell me what’s up.”

“What if I don’t want to talk to you anymore?”

I squint at his face. Amusement dances over it. “Fine, then. Don’t talk. Let’s just sit here and relax and enjoy the beautiful Cousins’ weather–”

“I think Belly hates me.”

I hide my smirk behind an expression of sheer concern. I let my brows pull together staunchly and allow my mouth to drop open just a little to show honest distress. “Why do you think she hates you?”

“Because I pissed her off.”

“What else is new?”

Conrad kicks my chair again but he’s smiling just like I am. “I’m being serious here. I thought we could have a heart-to-heart.”

“Me and you?”

“Yes, YN. Me and you.” He bites the inside of his cheek. “I think of you as my little sister.”

“No way!” I say it like I can’t believe it, but I’m grinning. All teeth on display. I feel like I’m on a cloud. “That’s such a lie! You told Susannah you’d rather eat ten pickles in a row than be my brother!”

“I was joking.” He takes a pause. Then he starts to grin, too. “I’d rather eat twenty.”

Unbelievably joyous, I lean back against my chair. A bundle of tension dissipates into thin air as my eyes cast a slow gaze over Conrad. All these years, our relationship has been mutual. I don’t know why hearing it out loud means more than simply guessing it was true. Maybe because it feels like something tangible, like a love I can almost hold in my hand.

“So… lay it on me, loverboy. What did you do to piss off Miss Isabel Conklin?”

Conrad sighs and shifts forward a bit. He starts playing with his hands, his long fingers twisting together like knots on a rope. “I, uh, I tried to… fuck,” he groans, dropping his hands. “I don’t wanna say it.”

“What could be so bad that you can’t say it?”

The truth is, I don’t need him to say it. I can tell by the pull of his shoulders and the flush of his neck that he either attempted to kiss her or he was successful and then did something very stupid to ruin it afterwards. Either way, Conrad dug himself a massive hole and fell right in without thinking twice.

“You don’t wanna know.”

“No, I really do.” I reach out and pull his cheek. He swats at me but I take the moment to grab the other cheek just to do the same thing. He almost snarls at me, which is funny because Susannah says that if Jeremiah is a Golden Retriever, Conrad is a German Shepherd. “Come on, Connie, tell me! I’m on the edge of my seat! Literally!” To show him what I mean, I scoot closer to the end of my chair where the plastic digs into my butt.

Conrad peers at me like he wishes more than anything in the world that he had not asked me to join him in conversation this morning, but it’s simply too late for him now. My ears are locked and loaded for the hot gossip.

It’s funny. When something bad happens to you, you don’t want others to know. But when something miserable is happening to someone else, you want to know all about it. Humans are weird.

“I tried to kiss her,” he finally relays.

I let my jaw drop purely for dramatic purposes. Then I make a show of using my left hand to shut it all while Conrad rolls his eyes at me. “Say sike right now!”

“YN, I’m being serious–”

“I bet she’s freaking the fuck out! Where is she? Let me call her–”

“I took it back!”

Conrad’s interruption throws me for a loop. I’m halfway out of my chair, having risen out of excitement, only to fall back down when my eyes fall over his torn expression. His brows are knitted together and his mouth is twisted like he just ate something sour. It proves he’s not lying.

“Why would you do that? Do you know how long Belly’s waited for you to show interest in her?”

“I-I know that. I just… there’s a lot going on right now. You know that.”

I nod because I do know that. Me and Conrad seem to be the only two people who know about Susannah this summer. But he has to know what he’s doing to his family, to his brother and to Belly, is wrong. If Susannah knew how he was hurting and how he was hurting others, she would be so sad. It would really break her.

“But she doesn’t know that. Belly doesn’t know you’re hurting, and you’re just hurting her as a result. It’s not right, Conrad.”

He looks at me like he wishes everything I just said didn’t make the sense that it seems to be making to him. Conrad has always been the type of person who figures things out for other people. He’s the first kid amongst all of us. The eldest. His parents gave him responsibilities the rest of us have never had to carry. And for most of his life, he was the one who fixed things. Now, he’s just as lost as we are.

“Belly is important to me.”

“I know.”

He bites his lip. “But I can’t… not right now.”

“She won’t wait around for you. Not forever.” Except, even as I say this, I know it to be a lie. Belly could wait around for Conrad her whole life. She’s been in love with him for that long.

I lean out again and squeeze his hand. “It’s Belly. You’re like, her knight in…” I pull the end of his shirt sleeve. “T-shirt and shorts.” We both get a good chuckle out of that.

Conrad decides he doesn’t want to talk about Belly and his whirlwind of emotions anymore so we drop the subject. That’s how we are. It’s how our friendship works. Even though I’m the sort of person who’s okay with talking about something for hours and hours, the moment someone decides they don’t want to, I shut up.

We end up talking about school instead. Conrad asks me where I’m going to apply to next year. Whether it will be in-state or out. He makes a joke about Jeremiah following me wherever I choose because he couldn’t imagine his brother being able to go a day without me. That makes me blush so much I wonder if the passengers in the airplane passing by above us can see it.

It also makes me want to tell him. I want to tell my friend about all the ways his brother makes me smile and laugh and how I think, after all these years, he might like me back.

In a low voice, I say, “He kissed me.”

“Who?”

“You know who.”

Conrad smiles, like this is the best secret anyone has ever told him. Like a part of him already knew it. It makes me wonder if Jeremiah told him about it. If, after he dropped me home last night, he hauled up with his brother and Steven and gushed about me like I did with Ashlyn. Well, not really with Ashlyn. More like, with her iMessages. I left her a very long and detailed voice note which she still hasn’t opened. I would have called Belly, but I was scared she might take what I was saying and decide she liked Jeremiah after all. Even though I know Conrad is the one she wants. The childish, jealousy-ridden part of me didn’t want to risk it.

“Oh, yeah? When?”

I brush my hair back and look out over the yard. In the driveway, Jeremiah’s car is parked next to Laurel’s. A big, red Jeep next to a four-seat family car. All around, there are flowers blooming and freshly mowed grass shimmering under the rays of the sun. It occurs to me that this is what Conrad must have been up to before I found him on the porch.

“Last night. After the party.”

“Where?”

“What’s this? Twenty-one questions?”

Conrad chuckles. “You know you’re dying to tell me.”

And he’s right. I am dying to tell someone. Someone who understands how long I’ve waited for Jeremiah Fisher to kiss me and mean it. Like he did last night.

“In his car.”

Conrad makes a face. It looks like a cross between amused and unimpressed. “Haven't you guys kissed in there before?”

“What?! He told you that?”

“Relax. I’m not a gossip.”

“You so are. Remember when you told everyone Steven took a leak in the pool because he wouldn’t let Belly play with us?”

“He really did, though.”

“Yeah, and to this day, Belly still calls him Leaky Stevie.”

The laugh Conrad barks out catches on the edge of my own and then we are both laughing like buffoons, the wind carrying away the rambunctious sounds within its wings. His reaction surprises me because I thought he would have forgotten all about that fiasco from a lifetime of summers ago. When Conrad stood up for Belly, it was usually in his quiet, introspective way. But when he was loud, it felt like he was loving out loud. Like he wanted Belly, and all of us, to know how he felt even if he didn’t quite understand it himself.

I let the last of my laugh die out before telling him with perfect honesty, “I know you care about what she thinks of you.” I pause to survey his emotions. He doesn’t need me to explain who ‘she’ is. “So don’t let her think you’re a jerk when you’re not.”

The corner of his lip turns up in a teasing smirk. “Maybe I am a jerk.”

“Not to her.”

Conrad reaches out and ruffles my hair. He’s been doing that to me for as long as I can remember. It was part of the reason why Susannah was so convinced we could have been siblings. She would say it all the time: me and Conrad were like Monica and Ross. Except I was Ross and Conrad was Monica. When she would say it over dinner, they were the few times I genuinely saw my mother laugh with regards to a joke about me.

The doorknob jiggles and by the time my attention rounds on it, the door swiftly opens to reveal Jeremiah in the entryway. His blond hair is a bit shaggy, but in a good way, like he put gel in it. His body takes up the entire spot in the door because that’s how tall he is. It takes me aback even though I’ve watched him grow into his height.

He steps out onto the porch in his old sneakers. The apples of his cheeks are a little rosy, like a freshly picked strawberry. His eyes land on mine, and because he’s wearing a blue shirt, they seem to pop out at me. An ocean rushing for my shore.

We don’t say anything, and Conrad seems to think this is his cue to go. He makes a ridiculous face behind his brother’s back which makes me fold a laugh into my mouth. Jeremiah cranes his neck around to see, but he’s too late. His brother is already stepping back into the house.

Left alone on the porch, I stand to my feet which feel like Jello and meet Jeremiah’s gaze. My heart constricts. It squeezes and sings and murmurs for help.

It is such a strange feeling. This boy in front of me is someone I have known for so long. He is someone I know better than I know anyone. For some reason, this doesn’t change the fact that he makes me nervous. In a really, really good way.

Bound by my roaring thoughts, before I can let my tongue spew any dumb words, I reach down for my thigh, ready to pinch it. Jeremiah seems to notice and in the blink of an eye, his fingers wrap around mine and he pulls my hand away. He slips his fingers between my own and brings our intertwined hands together up to his chest. His warm, perfect chest I’ve dreamed of falling asleep on so many times.

He surprises me by using his strength to tug me up to the same chest. Then he smiles, warm and beautiful, and says, “Hi.”

Beneath my palm, I feel his heart racing. Is he just as nervous as me? It makes me smile back. Jeremiah never leaves me alone. Not even in this.

I get on my tip-toes and kiss him on the cheek. It’s just a little bit rough from where he must have shaved, but mostly, it’s soft and he smells like everything I love. For good measure, I kiss his other cheek, too. Then I kiss his lips because if I remember correctly, he said the no kissing promise was “stupid.” I was pretty bad at keeping the promise anyway.

When I step back, his smile has widened to a massive grin which I’m sure is mirrored on my own face. I want to look at him and smile forever.

“Hi,” I whisper, tapping my fingers along the perimeter of where his heart rests. “This is beating really fast.”

He squeezes his hand over my own. I feel so woozy. “It’s all for you.”

The tips of my ears heat up. “That’s so cheesy.” I begin to pull myself away from him as the emotions wash over me like a raging waterfall. It’s so much all at once.

“You love it.” He brings me into him again. That smile is everlasting. There is hardly any space between our bodies, and I’m acutely aware of the way my breasts get squished against his broad chest. “My little-kid dreams are coming true right now, Daisy, you have no idea.”

“Your little-kid dream was to go to Trader Joe’s?” I’m teasing because I don’t know what else to do. Everything I thought I knew about our childhood blinds me.

A flash of tenderness flows over Jeremiah’s features. He tucks my hair behind my ear. I shiver from his touch, just like always, especially when he keeps his fingers on my skin. He leaves mini fires everywhere his skin touches mine.

“You have no idea,” he says, and somehow, I know it’s not a grocery store he’s talking about. He fishes around in his pocket for his keys. Then he slips them into my hand. “You’re driving.”

He bolts down the stairs, taking them two at a time, and heads for his car. I trail after him, happy to be able to drive. I love driving, but I almost never get to do it because the car I have at home is always seemingly breaking down. I spend more time in the family car being driven places than driving myself at my big age.

We drive through town quietly with no music apart from Jeremiah’s whistling. When we reach Trade Joe’s and I’ve managed to snag a parking spot close to the entrance, he grabs my hand just as I unbuckle my seat.

“Wait–”

I meet his eyes. “What?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and then he unbuckles his own belt and places a hand on the back of my neck. “Come here,” he whispers. He carefully pulls me close until our noses are touching. He stares at me like he can’t believe who he’s looking at. I hold my breath. “Promise me you won’t run away this time.”

I read the fear in his eyes so real and prominent that it turns every worry inside my heart into wonder. It’s so clear–this boy is afraid to lose me. My best friend in the whole wide world is afraid to lose me because he can’t believe he has me. I take a few seconds of looking into his eyes to make a different promise to myself: it doesn’t matter if he loved Belly once. I’m okay with being second. I’m okay with anything if it means we can be together.

“I promise, Jeremiah.”

My use of his name prompts him to collide his lips with mine for a kiss I’m sure goes against some PDA etiquette but I don’t really care. I kiss him back with equal fervour. We end up making out for ten minutes before I finally manage the courage to drag myself away.

I keep a hand on his cheek and tell him, “We gotta go.” He pouts and I can’t help it. I kiss him again. “Seriously… we need to go. I told Susannah we’d be back in an hour.”

“What if you just bailed?”

“On your mom? No way.”

“She’ll understand.”

I chuckle, pinching his cheek. “Fine, try telling your mom you want me to bail just so we can make out in your car all afternoon.”

Jeremiah cranes his head down to begin searching for his phone. I laugh and grab his face. “It’s girls’ day, Fishie. We can see each other afterwards.”

He makes a face to showcase his disappointment but eventually relents. We leave the car and walk out, and just when I think he won’t do it, he intertwines our hands and swings them back and forth like we’re little kids. We pass by a group of kids our age by the entrance and Jeremiah doesn’t bat an eye. He doesn’t let go of me even once. That’s how I end up kissing him when we’re inside by the produce section, earning a tsk of irritation from a middle-aged woman.

Jeremiah pulls out a long sheet of notebook paper when we walk into the baking aisle. I recognize the paper as belonging to Susannah from the flowery notepad she keeps on the side of the kitchen fridge. I remember when she bought it a few years ago. It came with a glittery pink gel pen and she used it for everything. Little notes for us kids when the parents went out, mini recipes, reminders, and always a list of groceries to shop for.

“Mom says we need brown sugar.”

I point finger-guns at him. “For the brownies.”

“Which you’re going to share with me.” When I don’t immediately respond, Jeremiah nudges me. “Hey, you have to share with me!”

“And why’s that?”

“Because what kind of girlfriend doesn’t share brownies with her boyfriend?”

I have to bite my lip to keep myself from unleashing the wildest, dumbest lovestruck grin of my life. I paint my face with nonchalance and ask, in a leveled voice, “I didn’t realize I was anyone’s girlfriend.”

Jeremiah catches onto what I’m insinuating pretty quickly, and while I expect him to ask me to be his girlfriend right now, the way he does it in the middle of the baking aisle with a mother and her two children on the far end sends me for a loop.

Without a care for where we are, Jeremiah Fisher gets on his knee in Trader Joe’s and holds up a sack of all-purpose flour towards me, which he must have picked up when I wasn’t looking. Gobsmacked, I stare at him with wide eyes.

“What are you–”

“YN,” he ignores me. “Will you make me the happiest guy in Cousins–no.” He shakes his head. “–the world, and be my girlfriend?”

One of the kids at the other end of the aisle notices us and pulls on his mother’s skirt so she will turn around and see the ruckus. Her eyes find mine and for some crazy reason, I’m not embarrassed. Not at all. I’m really happy. So happy that I reach behind me to grab a bag of brown sugar. The organic kind Susannah loves to bake with.

“That depends. Will you make me the happiest girl in the world and be my boyfriend?”

Jeremiah grins so big I’m scared it might break his face. He stands up and hugs me, dropping the flour in our cart just so he can pick me up and spin me around. I clutch at him desperately, not afraid that I’ll fall but so in love with him that I’m bursting at the seams with elation.

We spend the next few minutes gathering all the things we need from the list. Jeremiah keeps two fingers inside the pocket of my shorts the whole time. It makes me feel safe.

When we get to the counter, he doesn’t let me pay. He flashes his Dad’s credit card at the cashier like it’s something to be shown off. Unlike Conrad who flies under the radar, Jeremiah has never shied away from people knowing he comes from an affluent background. He likes that people know he’s a Fisher. He’s proud of it. These are the moments when he really reminds me of his father.

The cashier is almost done checking us out when Jeremiah throws in a bag of Skittles. He holds it up for the girl to scan then opens the packaging right away. He picks out a red one and throws it into the air before catching it with his open mouth. I laugh, thinking back to all of our Skittles contests over the summers.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

I glance at the cashier. “Sorry?”

She nods at Jeremiah. “Are you dating him?”

“Um, y-yeah. Yes. He’s my boyfriend.”

It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud. The first time it really feels real. So real that a swarm of butterflies whisk across my belly and up for my heart.

“He’s cute,” she says. Then backtracks instantly. “Not like… I’m not trying to be rude. Just like, you know?”

I do know. Jeremiah Fisher is gorgeous. I’m not the only girl in the world who notices that.

“It’s okay,” I tell her, truly meaning it. “He is really cute.”

And finally mine.

. . .

Back at the house, Jeremiah pushes me up against the pantry door the moment Susannah steps out of the room to take a phone call. Ever since we return from the supermarket, his hands have been all over me. Truthfully, his hands had been all over me during the ride home, too, which made it difficult to drive. We even had to stop on the side of the road once just so I could force him into the driver’s seat so his hands would have something else to do other than touch me.

But now, it’s open season. With Laurel out on a date with Cleveland, which was a less surprising detail than finding out his name is Cleveland freaking Castillo, Steven God knows where, Conrad out surfing, and Belly en route from Nicole’s place, the house is practically empty. Jeremiah thinks his mother being away for a few minutes means he can do whatever he wants and I would be lying if I said I didn’t love it.

“Your mom’s going to–” Jeremiah sucks on the juncture of my neck, brandishing his tongue for a soothing effect in response to the terror his teeth leave behind. “We really need to–”

Jeremiah slides his hands under my shirt. It’s only a little bit, only just enough for his fingers to splay upon the sides of my stomach, but the seemingly mundane action causes a flurry of excitement to gnaw at my heart like a vicious typhoon. I want his hands everywhere.

“Focus on me,” he says, as if my attention could be anchored anywhere else but on him right now. He kisses me once on the lips. I think I’m dizzy. “We can still make a run for it. I’ll tell my mom we –”

“Jeremiah!”

The booming register of Susannah’s normally sweet, melodic voice bellows down the hall and bounces off the white cabinets in the kitchen until finally landing in our ears. Jeremiah groans, dropping his face in my neck.

“Mom,” he whines while I stand there and turn beet red.

Susannah walks up to us and though she looks kind of angry, she mostly appears to be amused. Every part of her face seems to be dancing with it.

“Jeremiah, please take your hands off of YN,” Susannah says in a soft, motherly tone. Her thick, blonde hair shakes with the hint of her giggles which she keeps trying to hold back. And because I’m the only one who sees it, she looks at her son in my arms and continues, “Now, Jeremiah.”

Like the angel he is to his mother, he, very reluctantly, pulls himself away from me. He pouts at his mother like she just asked him to clean his room. “Mom, we’re–”

“I’m perfectly aware of what you two are,” Susannah interjects. “Of what you’ve always been.”

Jeremiah’s ears perk up. Despite his mother’s instructions, he slips his arm around my waist and kisses my red, hot cheek. A wicked smile spreads his lips to each corner. “I asked YN to be my girlfriend today.”

Susannah holds onto the edge of the kitchen counter and smiles at us. Especially at me, in a way which says more than words ever could. “I can see you’re both very happy together.”

Because I feel as though it’s my turn to speak up, I tell her honestly, “We are.”

“Well, I’m glad.” Susannah walks around and physically removes her son’s arm from my waist, much to his dislike. “Go out and surf with your brother, Jeremiah. It’s girls’ day today. No boys in the house. You know the rules.”

Jeremiah rolls his eyes goodnaturedly. “Yes, Mom.”

“Good. Now, shoo, shoo. I want you out of my kitchen.”

Although he listens, it’s not without grabbing my arm and hastily kissing me full on the mouth until he finally runs away.

Alone with his mother, I’m so red that I wonder if Susannah will get mad at me. Ashlyn’s ex’s mom would always get super angry whenever she caught her son with his girlfriend. I wonder what will happen to me because even though I know Susannah to be a really great mother, this is entirely new territory. I’m not just Jeremiah’s best friend anymore. I’m his girlfriend.

I’m not expecting it when Susannah pats my cheek so lovingly that tears spring to my eyes. “Are you happy?” she asks.

I nod. “Yes. I’m sorry about…”

“A mother is nothing but happy to see her children happy,” she says, eyes twinkling. “There’s no one in the world who makes him happy the way you do.”

“That’s not true, Susannah. Lots of things make Jeremiah happy.”

“None like you, my dear. You’re special.” She boops the tip of my nose with her index finger to drive her statement home. “Now, let’s get started on those brownies before the boys get back.”

We get to work straightaway. Susannah asks me to spread out the ingredients for the dessert on the counter while she warms up the stove. I do as she says and make sure each ingredient is placed in the direct order of addition, like how she taught me when I was little. Then we measure them out and make two batches of gooey, chocolatey fudge brownies between us.

Susannah is sticking the pans in the oven when she says, “Belly is taking quite a long time today. I wonder what’s keeping her.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. I’ve been wondering the same thing. Belly never misses our baking day. Not for seven years. I check my phone and notice my texts are still unread. Hers and Ashlyn’s.

“I’m sure she’s on her way,” I lie to Susannah, coming around the counter touch the mixer. “Maybe we should wait before we get started on the cake?”

“Hm,” she hums. “It might be too late. How about we make the cake and leave the sugar cookies for Belly?”

I nod, agreeing. “That sounds like a good idea.”

The cake we decide to bake is a scrumptious carrot cake which the whole family weirdly loves. Both the Fishers and the Conklins. I had no opinion of it until I met them and now it’s one of my favourite things in the world.

The gentle aroma of desserts lifts into the air as we bake together. With me on one side of the counter shredding fresh carrots from Susannah’s home garden and Susannah on the other side spreading pecans over a baking sheet. She is going to toast them in the oven for a few minutes so the cake develops a deep, nutty flavour which everyone loves.

We are akin to a well-oiled machine. We work and laugh together about so many things. Susannah asks me to detail every moment of me and Jeremiah getting together. I don’t hide anything. I tell her about all the times this summer when I wanted to tell him how I feel and I didn’t because I thought I couldn’t. She tells me she understands because feelings are scary at my age. I tell her about Steven and Shayla and how, even though they’re both my friends, I don’t really think they suit each other. I tell her about my mom and my sister and how my family is trying to piece itself back together. This is when Susannah tells me my mother loves me more than I know, and I truly come to understand what that means. Finally, when I get to the bit about Conrad, the truth slips from my tongue in a race against my secret thoughts.

“...and Conrad is so sad this summer because you’re sick so he won’t start anything with Belly and–”

Susannah drops her brown Martha Stewart rubber spatula in astonishment. All the colour drains from her face as she brings her eyes to mine. I begin to wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole. I have nowhere to run now.

“You… y-you and Conrad… both of you… you know?”

I’m shaking where I stand. I drop my measuring cup. Tiny orange carrot shreds fly out across the counter. I take a step away from it with my legs trembling. I begin to stammer, “Susannah, I’m… it’s not… I didn’t–”

Susannah falls into a breakfast chair. It seems like she was shaking, too. Her head falls into her hands. “Is that why his mood has been so solemn all summer? Because he knew my cancer came back…?” I don’t realize she’s crying until the first few tears land on the marble counter. “Oh, my poor child…”

I go to her without really knowing what else to do. I wrap my arms around her just to let her know I’m there, to apologize for something I should have kept to myself. “I’m so, so sorry, Susannah. I didn’t mean to find out. I know you were trying to keep it a secret.”

She lifts her head up and her blue eyes are riddled with globs of tears only a mother can shed for her children. “Oh, sweetheart,” she touches my hair and bites her bottom lip. “This must have been weighing on you, too.” She hugs me to her and I let myself melt in her arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything.”

“You can’t be sorry for being s-sick,” I murmur, sniffling into her house dress. I feel like such a kid. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know, I know.” She soothes my back as she says it, as if I am the one needing consolation and not her. I dropped a bomb on her. “Does Jeremiah know?”

I pull back to shake my head. “No. Conrad wants me to keep it a secret.”

“That darling boy.” Susannah looks up at the ceiling for a moment, appearing to think something to herself. When she finds my eyes again, she holds my wrists in both her hands and gets me to focus on her. “YN, I need you to promise me something, honey. Promise me you won’t tell Jeremiah about this. He can’t know.”

My heart stops. Everything in me seems to grind to a halt. In retrospect, perhaps I should have seen this coming. But, I didn’t, and now it’s here. “I-I can’t–”

“You have to. No, you must. I’ll–I’ll talk to Connie. But Jere… this will break his spirit. I can’t watch that happen to him. Not again.”

“Susannah, this isn’t right–”

“It will be okay, YN. I will fix this. I just need you to promise me this now. Please, promise me, sweetheart. I need you on my side.” Her voice is desperate, achingly so, that it creates within me a hole so gigantic that I find myself nodding. Her shoulders relax. Her lips find my forehead. I think about all the times my mother has kissed me there and how it has never felt as heartbreaking as it does right now. “Thank you.”

For the remainder of the afternoon, we bake. And we bake and we bake and we bake. All until we have two carrot cakes, more brownies than we know what to do with, chocolate chip cookies, vanilla cupcakes with sprinkles, and the sugar cookies Belly never got home in time to bake with us.

At dinner, when she reaches across the table for rice, I want to be so furious with her. I want to lash out. I want to yell and scream and ask her why she left me alone today. Maybe, just maybe, if she had been here, she could have saved me from opening my big mouth and expelling the idiocy that I did. And then maybe my thighs wouldn’t have searing red marks all over them from the various times I’ve pinched my skin until Jeremiah had to physically hold my hands to stop me from doing so. And maybe it would not have led to him worrying about me and asking dozens of questions I don’t have the answers to. And maybe Susannah would not be spending the entirety of dinner tearfully smiling at her kids, at all of us, knowing in her heart what she knows.

Before I go home for the night, everyone decides to haul up in the theatre room to watch a movie. I think it’s a comedy. Steven picks it. I’m not really listening. Jeremiah catches on and drags me to the side so we can talk. But I don’t let him talk. Lest I say something I’ll regret. I simply kiss him, I kiss him fiercely just so I don’t have to tell him the truth of everything I know and everything he deserves to know.

#jeremiah fisher #the summer i turned pretty #jeremiah fisher x reader #conrad fisher #tsitp #belly conklin #fan fiction #jenny han #jeremiah x yn #jeremiah fisher x yn #the summer i turned pretty x reader #tsitp x reader #belly x conrad #fanfic #tsitp fanfic #you and me

339 notes · View notes

finniestoncrane · 2 years ago

Note

I'm currently stuck at work and it got me thinking so here's a little request for you: Oz working later than usual and Reader missing him?

Re: I Miss You

Farrell!Penguin x Female!Reader, word count: 1.4k this was heavily influenced by the "why don't you send me a little email" gif as well as my headcanon that oz types like a dad over email urm i really don't think i could love oswald cobblepot more than i do without it becoming a concern for my general wellbeing so thank you for indulging 💜 pls let me know if you want a different style, but i feel like you know by now that i am just an incorrigible whore who can't be tamed 💜 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: masturbation, joi kinda, daddy!kink obviously

Oswald’s office was eerily quiet apart from the gramophone playing out some swing classics at a low volume, something to soothe him while he worked. It was near impossible to concentrate though, and he kept finding his eyes drifting to the gold-plated clock on the wall, a gift from someone long dead by his hand. All he had to do was focus, get through the folder of information handed to him by one of his ‘inside’ guys, information he couldn’t just hand off to a lackey to sift through. But his mind was constantly drifting, watching the clock seemingly jump by half hours each time he glanced at it, swearing it had only been seconds. He said he’d be home by 8pm. It was now 11.30pm.

He pulled out his wallet, flipping through it for the picture of you he kept in there, stroking his thumb over it. It seemed a bit silly, maybe pointless, since there were pictures of you on the wall, and one framed on the desk. But the one in his wallet was his favourite. As he smiled down at it in his hand, he wondered if you were worried about him. You hadn’t texted, but you knew better than that. If he was busy, he’d never look at his phone. He had to keep it away from him, or the distractions would be endless. This was the longest he’d ever been late by, and he feared you might be really stressed, wondering where he was. One look wouldn’t hurt.

Oz began to stand from his desk when he heard the little ping of an incoming email. It was from you. You knew how to get in touch with him if you needed him, he thought, smirking to himself, clicking on the email.

I Miss You Hey Ozzie! When are you coming home? Don’t feel bad, but I made dinner. Yours can be warmed up later, though. I’m not bothered about that, but I miss you!!! Yours <3

Tapping at the keyboard, Oz left his reply with you, fingers rubbing his temples as the guilt threatened to give him a headache.

Re: I Miss You Hey dollface. Got work to do. Let me finish here. Won’t be home any earlier with distractions. Promise to be quick. Keep sofa warm for me. Daddy.

A renewed sense of focus, Oz lifted the files again, taking some vigorous notes before his mind slipped again, ruminating on the fact you missed him. There was someone, beautiful and in love with him, sitting alone in his house, waiting for him to return to shower him in affection and he was here, at work, ignoring you.

Re: I Miss You Ok. I’ve been waiting for you all day, don’t work too hard. Yours <3

Another pang of guilt rang through his chest, anytime he felt you were in even the slightest of pain drove him crazy, but when it was his fault? He couldn’t cope. All he wanted was to get back to you, hold you in his arms, kiss you, feel you. Twice during a meeting with a prospective ‘partner’ he’d been so distracted thinking of the way he had left you in the morning, tiny nightdress on, the silk sheets clinging to your body, outlining your lower half under the sheets, face bare, peaceful, hair wild. He’d pressed a kiss to your forehead and left, knowing he’d get to come back to it later. That was more than 12 hours ago. He was growing impatient.

Re: I Miss You I’ve missed you too sweetheart. Thinking about you all day. Will be home soon. Be waiting for me. Want you. Daddy

It’s a while before you reply again, giving Oz enough time to look at the files again, scanning them and taking nothing in. Disappointed that he’s not with you. Disappointed that he’s not finished his work. Disappointed that you weren’t distracting him anymore. Another ping had him scrambling to the his screen, desperate to hear from you, even if it was another message tinged with a sad tone.

Re: I Miss You *open img attachment* Yours <3

Oz clicked on the little attachment, no thumbnail available, and he was glad. That would have been a tease, it would have ruined the surprise. He leaned in closer to his screen, cursing the fact that at his age, he should probably get some glasses for this kind of thing. But realistically, how was he to know that at midnight on a random night you’d be sending him the most lurid image of yourself, strewn over his desk at home, his favourite of your lingerie on, winking at him from behind the camera. He placed his hands over his face, rubbing them down and slapping his cheeks lightly, trying to focus on what he was doing, or at least what he was about to do. If he could just get over thinking about you, he could rush through the rest of the papers and get home to you.

Re: I Miss You Meeting invite with Oswald Cobblepot. Please click here to accept. Daddy

Oz was staring into the camera when you arrived on screen. Still wearing the outfit from your picture, he groaned when he saw you.

“Listen, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. But that, this, it’s a little unfair don’t you think? I mean come on!”

“If you’d been home when you said you would be you wouldn’t be missing it. I told you I’d made you dinner.” You winked at him, giggling at your own line. As much as it made you cringe to flirt so outrightly, you knew it drove Oz wild.

“Oh, baby. You’re killing me here. How am I supposed to finish my work now with you lookin’ like that?”

“I think you deserve a little bit of punishment, maybe a better look at what you’re missing?”

“That so? You show me then, dollface. Show Daddy what you have waiting for him.”

Standing up from his desk chair you turned, back towards the camera, pushing the chair further back from the desk, ass out the whole time.

“You done this before, toots?” Oz joked from behind, you shot him a smirk from over your shoulder before settling back into the chair, letting your legs open slowly, laying as far to the sides as the arms would let you. When you brought your attention to the screen, you could see Oz’s hand was under the desk, the movement you could see making it obvious that he was stroking his cock, his smile wide and crooked, gold tooth catching the light of the desk lamp. Knowing he was touching himself, his other hand gripping the edge of the desk, shirt untucked and exposing the bottom of his stomach, thick dark body hair visible, saliva pooling in your mouth, you let out a moan, biting your lip.

“Don’t keep it in kid, let it out. Let Daddy hear you. Why don’t you just move those little panties to the side, touch yourself for me.” You sighed against your touch, fingers rubbing against your clit, trying to maintain eye contact with Oz through the screen, but you threw your head back at the sound of his appreciation, groaning at the sight of you.

“Good girl, maybe you put your fingers inside now, think of Daddy when you do it, huh?”

You did as you were told, humming in pleasure at the sensation, letting his name slip out past your lips, Oswald, Daddy, Ozzie. All of them, over and over again as you pushed inside yourself, listening to his breathing growing heavier as he pumped at his cock furiously under the desk, keeping it hidden from you, teasing you whether he meant to or not.

“You think…huh…you think you could take…slip the bra down…mmm…”

He could barely get a sentence out, only stumbling more of the expletives he was mumbling as you pulled the bra down, cup pressing into your breasts, lifting them slightly, your fingers running slowly, almost coyly over them as you licked your lips, eyes meeting Oz’s the entire time.

“Wait…wait, baby. Stop, stop.”

It was abrupt, strange, but you did as you were told. You stared, waiting for his next instruction.

“Don’t do anything else. And don’t move. I’m coming home now, I’ve got more important work to finish there.”

You smiled to yourself as the screen went black on Oz’s side and the call was disconnected.

90 notes · View notes

greyeyedmonster-18 · 3 years ago

Text

live from my drafts: a prompt from somewhere in which regulus steals his brother's dog to take to the library (for one of those programs where kids can read to puppies) with the purpose of picking up men (and subsequently meets single dad James).

just nonsense at this point. beginning nonsense.

Regulus had lost track of the days he had spent in sweatpants on his brother's couch, eating crappy cereal from a bowl and zoning out in front of the television. He had also lost track of the laundry, and proper hair-care, his hair longer than he had ever had it, something of a beard growing on his chin in odd patches. Not that he spent much time looking in the mirror these days or he would be much more horrified at what had become of himself.

Because Regulus Black wore sweatpants for two reasons and two reasons only. The first was exercise. Not that he regularly did that, but he had dated a few boys who had loved the gym, and he could play the part. The second was a breakup. Recovery sweatpants. I don't need you sweatpants. This was a mutual decision and I didn't even like you anyway but also if you asked I'd come crawling back to you in a heartbeat sweatpants.

But he hadn't asked. And Regulus was still on the couch. In sweatpants. Hoping that re-runs of 1950's sitcoms would stitch up the holes in his heart.

His brother suddenly came into view, blocking the television just as Gilligan was about to get them off the island.

"Get out of the way, this is the most important part!" Sirius rolled his eyes, reaching forward to grab the clicker off the couch and shut off the television, "Hey, arsehole!"

"He doesn't get them off the island," Sirius told him.

"It's nice to have hope."

"Well, I have hopes and dreams that someday, my brother will get off my couch and go shower because he smells like a donkey."

"You smell like wet dog."

"That's Snuffles," Sirius said, inclining his head to the big black dog lying on the ground next to Regulus. They had spent a lot of time together over the past few...weeks...? Maybe a month?

"Is it?"

Sirius sighed, stepping forward to grab Regulus's face in his hands and leaning down, "I love you and I am only going to say this once, are we listening?"

"I literally have no choice."

"Good." Sirius grinned slightly, "You...made a stupid choice and you let yourself get your heart broken--" Sirius started barely finishing his sentence before Regulus pushed him away, laughing loudly.

"Fuck off."

"Well, you did. And my couch is your couch and my guest room is your guest room for all of eternity, I don't really care but this whole unshowered, homeless thing you've got going on is getting out of hand. It's upsetting my guests."

Regulus rolled his eyes, "I'm so sorry my heartbreak is ruining your hook-ups."

"Well, I wouldn't say ruining," Sirius said, smirking back at him, "Why don't you take Snuffles for a walk? The fresh air might do you good. Think about what you want to do...you know, since you fucked your boss and quit your job."

"Thank you so much for the reminder that I ruined my life." And what for?

Phenomenal dick.

"I do what I can," Sirius shrugged, "I'm serious though."

"I know you are."

"I'm going to work, I'll see you later. Smelling better. Yeah?"

Regulus sighed loudly, making sure his brother could hear his suffering from the front door where he was putting on his shoes preparing to leave for the day. His brother who hadn't been sitting on the couch nursing a broken heart in sweatpants. His brother who kept his personal and professional life separate. His brother who still had a job and an apartment and motivation beyond moving from his bed to the couch and back again.

"Get off the couch! Greet the day!"

"Yeah," Regulus muttered back. He waited for the door to close. He waited 10 minutes, to make sure he was really gone before tapping the spot next to him on the couch for the clicker.

That fuck.

Sirius had taken it with him.

After some concerted effort and three pep talks later, Regulus had showered, shaved, combed his hair, changed his clothes into something that felt a little less slovenly, and made it out of the apartment, deciding to take his brother's advice and take his dog on a walk. Usually, Sirius did when he got home from work, and probably would still, the large beast having too much energy and nowhere to put it in the apartment.

Like owner, like animal, Regulus thought as he continued to let Snuffles pull him along the sidewalk, almost wishing he would be pulled down entirely just so he could prove a point. Just so he could return home and wait on the couch for Sirius with a broken nose or scraped chin and say I told you I should've stayed on the couch before demanding his brother take him to the hospital. That would buy him a few more weeks a desolation, becoming one with cushions and black and white re-runs.

But that didn't happen, and Snuffles continued to pull enough to keep Regulus moving, but not hard enough for it to end in the perfect disaster. Even though he hated to admit it, it was a nice day and there weren't too many people around, given the week-day midmorning timeslot. People had places to be, leaving Regulus alone with his thoughts and his brother's dog and ducks honking loudly in the nearby park.

"Puppy!" a tiny voice interrupted, followed by a very small child with messy hair and glasses rushing towards them. "Puppy, puppy!" He squealed again, Snuffles tail already wagging furiously at the tiny newcomer with a much brighter disposition than Regulus.

"Harry, wait!" a second voice came and Regulus turned over his shoulder, stopping in his tracks as a man followed behind the boy. Heart-stopping as well. Tall with dark skin and the same hair as the boy. Broad shoulders and the best pair of joggers Regulus had ever seen in his life, fabric outlining trim ankles and calves and-- "I'm so sorry, he loves dogs."

"Can I pet your puppy?" the boy asked looking up at Regulus, though Snuffles had already made the decision for him, a wet nose nudging at a tiny hand.

"Yeah, sure, go ahead. He's...friendly."

"Why did you hesitate?" the man asked, hazel eyes behind glasses trimmed with dark lashes going wide.

"I didn't."

"You did a little bit."

"He's friendly, look." Regulus looked down at the dog and the boy, Snuffles on his back eagerly anticipating belly rubs.

"Right, sorry," the man smiled, "Overprotective Dad, here."

"Not... a bad thing to be." It also wasn't a bad thing to be inconceivably handsome, the man's smile taking Regulus into another dimension. He didn't know how long he was on his brother's couch, and he certainly didn't know what century he was in after being assaulted by too many fucking teeth and skin that deserved to have a crayon named after it.

"We actually just came from the library," the man said, "They have a dog come on Wednesdays and kids can read to them. And now he's had his fix of two. You might've made his day."

You certainly made mine.

"Well...Snuffles here is glad for it." Regulus said, keeping his tone even, "The library you said?"

"Yeah, it's actually--"

"Daddy, look, I'm petting!" the boy exclaimed, cutting off the man's sentence as he continued to rub Snuffles belly aggressively, the black dog rolling in the grass.

"Very good, Harry. Remember to be a little gentle?"

"No need, you should see how my brother plays with him..." Regulus commented, picturing Sirius running with his dog, games of tug-of-war and fetch taking place on the ground and lasting longer than a few minutes. "He can take it."

The man chuckled, "Harry, say thank you to the nice man," Regulus snorted. He had never been called nice a day in his life. Well, except in the bedroom but that was a different matter entirely, "I'm sure you have things to do, and so do we."

"Thank you! You have a good boy," Harry told him nodding importantly, before grabbing his father's hand.

Mmm...

"Of course," Regulus said, eyes leaving the boy quickly to return to his new favorite face and what he wanted to be his new mistake. "Which...library? I've actually been...looking for something to do myself."

#jegulus #james potter #regulus black #sirius black #some type of au #empty your drafts game #would this be good for you?#this will become a fic if someone else writes it #or if one day i wake up and decide this is it #no inbetweens

212 notes · View notes

e-jaegerenthusiast · 4 years ago

Text

lurk~toji fushiguro x reader

(part 2 to u&i bully!megumi)

art by sab_xcvii

I am respectfully looking down. down.

had to down a couple of beers to get through this bro—

all characters are of age.

based on the song ‘lurk’ by the neighbourhood

warnings/tw; smut, cheating?, age gap, rough sex, choking, daddy kink, spitting, size kink, slight dumbificantion, degrading, praise kink, nipple play (both receiving)

summary; what happens when you learn more about megumi? and believe it too.

w.c; 6k

you’d been thinking about megumi all weekend. his face and all the events from the prior day swirling inside your head as you pondered them over and over, trying and hoping to find an apology in midst of all the pants shared between you both. of all the words he said to you.

just a simple apology. an apology to ease your heart, an attempt to clear all the things he put you through. all the times he humiliated you, all the times he embarrassed you and made you feel unimportant, unwanted. that’s all your beating heart wanted from him.

yet he never said those two words. not as he kissed you, not as he led you to the backseat of his charger, not as he slid in your mouth, or not as he fucked into you.

your chest filled with anxiety, he used me. curling up in your comforter as you tried to push away your negative thoughts with the soft music playing in your ears.

that was until your phone gave out a ding. picking it up, the light of it filling your dark, depressing room as you read the text with an unknown contact.

‘hey, bunny’ it read.

you squinted your eyes, where had you heard that nickname before? ah yes. the parking lot. the devil himself.

you groaned, locking your phone and wrapping yourself in your warm duvet again. your phone lit up again with the sound of his text. you blinked a few times as you shook your head and unlocked it again.

‘forgot to tell you’ as you read that, you pressed the contact and saved it as “megs </3”

your heart filled with a sense of hope, the little burnt flame igniting within you again, it died down as soon as it had been planted in you as you read the next text,

‘i got your number from one of your friends’

you sigh, so that’s what he forgot to tell you. not fuckin-

you were brought out of your thoughts as another text popped up

‘hello?’

‘y/n?’

‘did that bitch give me the wrong number?’

you wish you could just type out a lie, saying he got the wrong number, and forget that megumi fushiguro ever existed in your life. sure, maybe it was petty of you to hold a grudge against him for not apologizing even after the sensual acts that took place between you both the day prior. however, it was important to you. you needed to know he actually felt guilty those times. you need to know he felt as shitty as you did on the inside. you needed to know he wasn’t just using you. he technically never said that either, just told you to not say it.

nevertheless, you’re typing away before you can stop yourself. you should have.

‘hey ‘gumi’

‘no you got the right number’

you don’t really know what else to say. waiting patiently as the 3 dots start moving, signaling he’s typing.

‘good.’

‘i’ll pick you up in 30. be ready.’

you glance at the time on your phone, 5:30. you had enough time.

‘okay’

‘see ya cutie’

you get out of your bed quickly. taking a quick shower as the warm water helped you relax. you wear some jean shorts and a tank top with a silver necklace hanging lowly on your neck. you do some light makeup, only a little colorless lipgloss and mascara, as you tie your hair up in a ponytail. a few strands coming loose, not really being bothered to re-do it, you head down the stairs and go outside to sit on the porch, waiting for megumi.

in a couple minutes, his black charger comes to a halt infront of your house, you get up, grabbing your phone and your small purse, sliding it around your neck as you make your way to his car.

he leans to the passenger side and opens the door for you, giving you a smirk as you get in, gaze faltering on your jean shorts as he licks his lips. you give him a small smile, “hi.” your voice is soft as you observe him, the smell of rough lavender fills your nose this time instead of the cedarwood and musk, it seems gone now. his raven hair is damp atop his head, signaling he just came out of the shower.

he leans over and presses a quick kiss to your cheek, his hair brushing your forhead as he pulls away. a blush creeps on to your cheeks, “hey, beautiful.” he smiles as he fixes his gaze on the road and presses the gas pedal.

he puts his hand on your upper thigh, “how are you?” you bite the inside of your cheeks, “fine.” his gaze stops on you for a second before looking back at the road, “you’re lying.” you sigh, trying to come up with an excuse. how could he tell whenever you’re lying? “I uhm.. I just have a bit of a headache.”

he hummed, “if you say so.” he gave you a smile as he squeezed your thigh. you decided to push all your thoughts away for now and only focus on him. you put your hand on his, “where are we going?” he looked at your hand with a smile, “my house.”

your gaze fixed on him, “why not outside?” he looked over to you, “I lost my phone somewhere at the house.. but if you don’t wanna go there I don’t mind. we could just hang outside.” he said with a shrug.

you thought it over for a few seconds, he was offering you a chance to see his house, where he spent most of his childhood in, so if you got the chance to see more of him, you would be a fool to not take it. you gave a soft squeeze to his hand on your thigh, “no, yeah let’s go to your house.”

he smirked as he made a sharp turn into a street, his knuckles flexing on the wheel. this was pretty far from your house, the houses in the neighborhood were all a fair distance away from eachother, each one looking modern and rather large.

he pulled into the parking way of one of the houses, as you looked up from your window, you could see the house was just as big as the others, glass panes covering one whole side of it instead of walls. the parking garage’s door slid up with a press of megumi’s finger on a remote. he parked the car and you both got out. a sudden feeling of anxiety swimming in your chest as you saw the big black ram next to where megumi had parked, was his dad home?

megumi grabbed your hand in his, holding you close and interlocking your fingers as you both made your way up a small flight of stairs. “my dad’s not home, I think he’s at the neighbors’ house, he’s his friend.” you swallowed, your shoulders relaxing as you nodded.

he let go of your hand as he opened a door that led to the huge living room, mostly black and dark grey furniture everywhere, it was calming in a sense. he twirled around with his arms open infront of you, “as you can see the house’s pretty fuckin huge. I hate it— so I’m not gonna give you a tour or anything. but,” you frowned at his words, fidgeting with your fingers. he moved towards you, smiling, “how about you give yourself a tour as you call my phone and try to find it? please? I need it for this one senior assignment I’m getting today.” you nodded slowly as he flashed you a big grin, kissing your cheek before storming off and yelling, “my sister needs my help with something! I’ll be back!”

with that, he left you alone standing in the large empty living room. you sighed, finding his phone seemed to be pretty important to him. you got your phone out of your purse, starting to dial megumi’s number as you wondered around the house. he didn’t seem fond of this house, it was really big though so you thought family members could easily ignore each other for days. that’s probably what megumi would do.

you dialed his number over and over, looking around the vastly sized kitchen, the dining room, and some other rooms downstairs. megumi had left upstairs so you thought that’s probably where the bedrooms are and he had most definitely looked around in there. so you decided to take the stairs that spiraled down instead.

as you made your way down the stairs, a faint sound of the bass of music hit your ears. you followed it down the narrow hallway that was filled with empty white vases and fake plants. the music was getting too loud for it to be a ringtone. it led you to a big white door, you opened it as you stepped inside.

you were met with an even bigger looking room than any of the ones you had seen on the main floor, mirrors were covering all its walls, the music loud as it blasted through the soundproof ceiling, there were lots of equipment and machines, oh. it was a gym. was it bigger than the living room and kitchen combined? probably.

you dialed megumi’s number again, walking around the gym, staring at everything with wide eyes. how fucking rich were they? their own personal gym right under their penthouse, you scoffed at the excessive wealth they had, or his dad had.

you heard a light vibration, going towards it as you could see a faint light on the ground next to a towel, right under the mirrors on the wall, you bent over to pick it up, megumi’s phone. finally.

as you stood back up, your eyes set on a huge, tall body in the mirror standing behind you, before you could even look up to see who it is, you screamed and turned around, jumping back against the mirror, closing your eyes as you brought your hands in front of you offensively, as if you could do any damage with them.

you slowly opened your eyes as you heard a deep chuckle, toji fushiguro stood infront of you. tight workout shorts sticking to his legs, bringing out his huge thighs, a black tank top sat upon his chest, a slight wet ring formed around the front of it as his body was covered in sweat, glistening.

his body was beyond huge, making you look so insignificant standing before him. he ran a veiny hand through his damp hair, bicep flexing as he did so, “done staring, pretty thing?” your mouth went dry, as if you weren’t practically drooling seconds before.

you could hear your heartbeat in your own ears, you were about to fucking black out. and you didn’t know why, his presence was so intimidating, the smell of cedarwood and musk filled the aroma around him, making you dizzy. so that was his smell yesterday in the car.

he towered over you, licking slightly at the scar on his lip, “cat’s got your tongue? or has megumi got a deaf plaything this time?” at the mention of your hearing, you tried to focus on the loud song playing instead of your unsteady heartbeat. the song was a forgein rap, turkish maybe? as it blasted through the gym and bounced off the ceiling.

you cleared your throat slightly, not trusting the power of your voice right now, “I uhm.. no.. I was just looking for fushiguro’s phone, and I uh.. found it here.” you waved the phone in front of your face, trying to show him.

he raises a brow, turning around and moving towards what seems to be a cable crossover machine. he grabs the hem of his black top with one hand, sliding it over his head as he dries the sweat around his neck, leaving the shirt there like a scarf. you stand there, staring at his muscular back. pressing your thighs together, why were you pressing your thighs together? this was megumi’s dad.

megumi’s phone kept buzzing in your hand, you looked at the screen, notifications on notifications showing there, you couldn’t see the texts unless it was unlocked but you could see the contact names, most of them were not saved, the rest being emojis.

“7 notifications from 💥”

“4 notifications from 👅”

“3 notifications from 🧜🏻‍♀️”

you could feel the rage settling in your stomach and all the way to your head, having a tight grip on his phone. the sound of weights bumping into eachother made you jump, looking up at where toji stood in between the machine, his arms working with the cables as his pecs flexed and unflexed.

the man glances at you from the side of his eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat. he keeps opening and closing his arms with the wire, his gaze not leaving you as you practically have a staring contest. he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, opening them as the scar on his lip tugs upwards with his smirk.

he stops moving his arms, making you flinch again with the sound of the weights hitting the metal, you find yourself pulling away your gaze from his crotch. when did you start staring at the bulge in his shorts?

you felt dizzy again as he started walking towards you slowly, his manly perfume filling your nose again. taking the damp black top around his neck and tying it around his forhead, he makes it into a makeshift headband as he pulls his hair back out of his forhead and up. you gasp at the sight, looking down at the ground in as your face starts heating up.

he stops a few inches infront of you, holding his large palm out to you as he motions for you to give him megumi’s phone. the loud forgein rap seems to fade away as his deep voice rings in your ears again, “explosion one’s ‘bitch that sucked him off real good,” he scrolled through megumi’s notifications with his thumb. the big phone looking tiny in his large hands, he held a bored expression on his face as he made your heart clench with each sentence, “tongue one he went down on,” he scoffs and chuckles darkly, “damn brat, the mermaid one must be the girl he fucked in my pool last night and denied of ever doing so when I busted his ass.” he twisted the phone in his hands and held it out to you.

a horrid expression filled your eyes as you kept your gaze on his chest, “oh and you must be the sunset girl, hm?” you looked up at him, tears brimming your eyes, “w-what??” he leaned forward and tucked megumi’s phone in the back pocket of your jean shorts, his big hand covering the majority of the cheek of your ass, making you shiver as your nose was practically in his neck, his musky scent making you dizzy.

as he pulled away, he whispered in your ear in a voice you could only recognize as seductive scary, “you look smarter than to be used by my excuse of a son, doll.” you blinked a few times. trying to register what just happened before quickly getting past him and making your way out of the gym and upstairs.

your head was swarming with thoughts as you sat in the living room, clutching megumi’s phone in your hands. you stared at the spiraling stairs that would lead you up to where he probably was. you were trying to mentally get yourself ready, should you ask him about it? should you even mention it? toji’s voice clouded your brain, he called you megumi’s plaything. was it true? were you just like all the other girls? getting used by him and getting lost between the many ‘emoji’s’?

you took a deep breath, heading upstairs and calling for megumi. his head plopped out of one of the rooms, hair in fluffy spikes as he smiled at you. “did you find it?” you nodded and walked towards him.

giving him his phone, he motioned for you to join him in his bedroom, sitting on his chair in the corner of the room as you sat on his bed in the center, looking at him anxiously as you gripped the bedsheets beneath your palms.

he was focused on his phone, scrolling through something with furrowed brows and an amused expression before he looked at you standing up and grabbing what seemed to be his car keys from his desk.

“hey uhh.. I’m sorry one of my friends is in big trouble, I gotta go but I’ll be back okay? do you wanna stay here until I come back?” he waited for your answer, lightly bouncing his foot as if he couldn’t wait to get out of the room and to wherever he was going.

you felt like you could cry any moment now, you just needed him to go away, to not be here to witness your pathetic tears and emotions. you bit on your bottom lip, should you wait for him? or go home? “uhm, yeah I’ll wait..” you said as his ocean blue eyes stared at you in anticipation, you couldn’t say no to them.

a wide smile came onto his face, giving you a salute and a small “thank you” before he hurried out of the room, getting downstairs with fast steps that you could hear.

you took a deep breath, falling back down on his bed, it smelled like him, like lavender. god what where you doing? your eyes felt heavy like your heart, why did you give him a chance to slither his way into you heart? he was supposed to stay your bully.

before you knew it, you fell asleep on his bed, your brain too swarmed by your thoughts that you wanted to just push away. you felt like you were half asleep, still being aware of your surroundings.

you opened your eyes to a vibration, it was your phone in your hands, you looked at the time, it had been almost an hour since you laid on his bed, not even aware if you were fully asleep or not.

you sighed, getting off his bed and out of his room, you looked around for a bathroom, finding it not too far from megumi’s room, in the same hallway a few steps down.

when you came out, you turned around only to bump into a chest, looking up, you covered your mouth with your hands, “I’m sorry! uhm...” it was megumi’s dad, he had a grin on his face, his hair damp atop his head, his chest bare, and a towel hanging around his torso.

he gave you a look up and down, “you’re good, where’s megumi?” he waited for your answer, but saw you fidgeting with your fingers and pouting, “he left you didn’t he?” you nodded weakly.

he brought his hand to his own chin, rubbing at it as he seemed to be deep in thought of something, then his gaze caught yours, your eyes dilating as a devilish grin made its way accross his lips.

before you could blink, your back was pressed against the wall of the hallway, his large hand around your throat as he towered over you. leaning his face close to yours as your eyes fluttered with his minty breath in your face, “then how about,” he tightened his grip on your throat, making you choke on a breath as he continued, “we get some revenge on him, yeah?”

you were speechless, this all felt like a fever dream. that’s it, maybe you hadn’t even woken up yet, maybe you were still sleeping soundly in megumi’s room. but the wetness pooling between your legs as he parted them with his knee said otherwise.

he smashed his lips onto yours, kissing you at a slow pace until your small hands were grabbing at his chest, pushing him away to look up into his dark eyes, “t-this is wrong— what are we—“

he sighed, “your little boyfriend is out fucking someone else right now, please don’t tell me your little teenage heart is in love with him or some bullshit.” he was right. you were nothing to megumi, you never had been. so why shouldn’t you act like he was nothing to you?

his eyes were searching your face, his brows scrunched together. you grabbed a fist full of the back of his hair and brought his lips down to yours, you could feel his smirk against your lips before he started to kiss you back again, this time rougher.

his tongue pushed against your lips, and you opened your mouth for him, letting him taste you. the smell of musk was all around you, making you dizzy as you grabbed at his hair. the kiss was a sloppy mess, his tongue dominating yours and biting at your bottom lip as he pulled back.

he pressed his bulge against your center, making you let out a small whimper as you looked up at him with doe eyes. he leaned in again, but this time his lips went to your neck, his tongue pressing against your pulse point as the beat of your heart got faster and faster. you could feel him sucking and nibbling on the skin of your neck, leaving trails of crimson and rosemary all over your collarbone as you shuddered and small pants left your mouth.

his large hands were pressing into both sides of your hip, the towel around his torso shuffling as he practically grinded your clothed center onto it. on of your hands was laced through his hair, grip tightening as his mouth traveled down to your chest, pressing wet kisses right above your boobs that were still covered by the material of your shirt. your other hand held onto the large muscle of his bare bicep tightly, crescents forming from your nails as he bit the hard bud of your nipple from above your shirt.

your hand on his bicep traveled to his chest hesitantly, so hesitant that when your fingers accidentally brushed against his left nipple, he hissed, a shudder running down his spine and pulling back from where he was marking you up. you studied the loon on his face closely, his eyes were filled with lust, looking you up and down as he towered over your small form.

you looked back at the hand that was resting on his pec, his nipple hard right between your index and middle finger. you took a deep breath, slowly moving forward towards his chest, he watched you as you pressed a kiss to his nipple, his arm twitching from on the wall, the fingers from his other hand tightening around the flesh of your tiny hip. he wanted to stop you, let you know who’s in charge, but he decided to wait, wanting to know what you’re up to.

you pressed another kiss to the bud, only this time, your tongue pressed against it as you pulled away, earning a grunt from him. you stuck out your tongue circling his nipple in slow movements as your other hand trailed down his defined stomach, grabbing onto the self-made knot of his towel as you attempted to pull him closer than he already was.

the way your tongue was swirling around his nipple as you sucked slowly, kissing it after each nibble had him weak. he was god awful thankful that you couldn’t see his face right now, because his expression was not him. his face was burried in your neck, the tip of his nose a light pink that dusted his defined cheekbones too. his eyes were scrunched shut, his nose upwards as his mouth was agape, small pants and broken breaths leaving his pretty lips.

when you finally got the knot of his towel free, the white material going loose around his torso, you bit down on his nipple gently. that was his breaking point, the rope that finally snapped. hearing a deep growl from him, you could feel large hands on the back of your thighs, pulling you up so you were flush against him, both your legs locked around his waist and your hands tight around his neck as you hid your face in between his two large pecs.

you were so lost in the strong smell of the shampoo previously used on his chest that you only felt his girth in between your legs when he started walking you both down the hallway. your eyes widened, looking down in between you and at the generous amount of manhood he had to give you with a gasp. you were dumbfounded, stuttering over your words as you tried to form a sentence, he was walking you both somewhere, a deep chuckle vibrating from his chest as you pressed your head to it again.

“ssshh don’t worry about that, doll.” he said, rubbing circles onto the flesh of your ass with his thumb. you pulled your head back from his chest as you felt his hands shuffle, throwing you onto a bed as you bounced a few times, your hair fanning around you as you closed your eyes, trying to prepare yourself for whatever is to come.

your eyes opened wide as your nose picked up the now familiar scent of lavender, looking around you in a haste, you were on megumi’s bed.

you looked forward, the sentence you wanted to scream at toji dying down on your tongue when you saw him crawling towards you with a malicious grin, the veins in his large biceps flexing with every moment, his cock standing upright under his stomach, the tip red and angry as precum dribbled onto the lavender-smelling sheets below you both.

his large form is above you, hands on either side of your head as he leans down again, grabbing at your shirt in an animalistic manner, you thought he was gonna tug it over your head, closing your eyes. you opened them back up when you heard a loud shredding sound. he had ripped your top to pieces, the fabric ripping in two beside you as your naked chest was exposed to him.

he raise his brows, the side of his mouth where his scar resided rising up into a half-smirk, “no bra? fucking dirty.” he grabbed one of your boobs, rolling your nipple in between his fingers as he took the other one his mouth, humming around it as his long eyelashes fluttered against his cheek, his gaze coming back to stare you in the eyes as you watched him. “were you prepared to get fucked by him again?” he said in between pressing his tongue against your nipple, earning small pants and whimpers from you.

“didn’t expect to be splayed out like this under his dad instead did you now?” his voice was deep, he sucked on your nipple repeatedly, making sure to give the other one the same attention as he rolled the other bud in between his large fingers. you moaned out loud when you felt his sharp teeth biting into your chest, “speak when you’re fucking spoken to.” he said as he landed a slap on your other boob, you whimpered, nodding your head “y-yes— I mean— n-no I didn’t—“

he gave out a dark chuckle, his hot breaths driving you crazy as he switched between your boobs, sucking and biting on the other one as he held them both in his hands, “haven’t even fucked you, yet you’re all dumb under me already.” he said with another chuckle as he hummed around your nipple.

he came back up to your lips, his huge cock pressing into your clothed center. you felt his fingers wrap around your throat, rising your head slightly from the pillow and bringing your face closer to his, your nose touching his, his gaze feral as it pierced you, his lips inches away from you as you could feel his hot breath over your lips.

he gave you a passionate kiss, his tongue diving into your mouth before he pulled away, your lips following him to get more, but he only chuckled darkly again, looking down at where his cock was practically twitching against you. “you gonna take your slutty fucking shorts off? or should I rip them as well huh?” you shakes your head rapidly, “n-no.” you squealed.

he raised his brows, his gaze moving between your eyes and your lips, his hand tightening around your throat, “no, who?” he nearly growled out. you squeezed your eyes together, breath catching in your throat as you whine out “n-no… daddy.” he smirked, giving a single smooch to your parted lips before loosening his hand around your throat, “atta girl, now c’mon, do as you’re told and I’ll play nice on you ‘kay?”

your hands were shaky as you lifted your hips, sliding your shorts down halfway to your knees, struggling to get out of them under his dark gaze. he groaned, rolling his eyes as his hands replaced yours, tugging the shorts down fully and throwing them somewhere on the floor.

he looked down at you, licking his lips. a wet patch had formed on your panties, his large hands coming to your hips, grabbing onto the waistband of your underwear before he groaned again, “too much fuckin work.” you heard another ripping sound, he had tore your underwear too, disregarding the pieces that remained on the bed as he ran his fingers along your inner thigh, his eyes coming back up to your face to watch your every expression.

“oops.” he muttered, snickering at you, before his face turned into one of— concern? your lips were trembling, tears prickling your eyes as you tried to blink them away. he moved up again, his hand coming up to hold your face in his palm, his thumb wiping at your wet lashes. “what is it, doll? are you scared?”

you sniffed, shaking your head grabbing his other wrist in your small hands, shakily bringing it to your lower stomach. he smiled, humming, “you want me touch you? take real good care of you?” his fingers inched closer to your clit, but still not touching, only grazing the upper part of your pussy.

you nodded, “uhh huh— p-please, fushiguro.” he chuckled again, the sound becoming familiar to your ears as you wanted to hear it more and more. “please??” he said in a teasing tone, his voice dropping a few octaves down if that was even possible.

“p-please toji—“ he laughed, the noise making your cunt flutter around nothing. “wrong answer, doll.” he slapped your clit, the action catching you off gaurd, making you let out a choked whimper. his hand still on your cheek, going down to grip your jaw as he hummed quizzically. “please, daddy.”

“mhhmm,” you felt his palm graze your clit as one of his thick middlefinger fingers entered you, your back arching and hips bucking up towards his hands as you moaned. “there you go, right there?” the pad of his finger pressed against the perfect spot inside of you, your thighs shaking around him as you nodded and moaned, his chuckles feeling your ears again.

your hips were bucking up against him in a circular motion, your walls tightening around his single finger as you felt the knot in your stomach begin to unwind, right then and there, he pulled his finger out of you, snickering as you whined. you looked down at him, his finger that was in you seconds ago now in his mouth as he hummed around it, “you taste so sweet, doll.”

he leaned down, taking his large cock in his hand, stroking the base a few times before lining it up right at your entrance, he was on his knees, looking down at you with a raised brow, “I’d ask you if you’re a virgin but,” your eyes widened as you felt his head move into you, your hands gripping the sheets and your knuckles growing white as you whimpered. “you’re a naughty little— fuck— slut. but still tight.”

your walls fluttered around him repeatedly as he tried to fit in more of his cock, stretching you open almost painfully, but god the stretch felt amazing. you felt like you could rip the sheets any moment now with the grip you had on them, you could barely keep your eyes open, nuzzling your head into your own neck and whimpering.

until you felt his fingers wrap around your throat again, looking at him as your mouth hung open, soundless breaths leaving your mouth and onto his face as he smirked, his cock was spreading you open so wide, you could feel every vein, every ridge of it brushing against your tight walls, and eventually his big balls tapping at your ass when he bottomed out.

he stilled inside of you, letting you let out your choked breaths until your hips were rutting against him, he groaned, “I’m trying to be nice here, give you time to get used to it, and you go and grind against me while I’m balls-deep inside of your tight little cunt?” your eyes rolled back as he gave you his first thrust, hard and unrelenting. making your tits jiggle up and back down again, your hands going to his wrist that is around your throat.

you hold his lower arm with one of your small hands, and the other around his wrist, pressing down on your throat until a squeak comes out your mouth, his cock twitches inside of you, and you clench around him as he gives you another hard thrust, “want me to choke you? you’re dirty like that?” his fingers tighten around your neck, and your around his arm and wrist.

his thrusts are hard, fucking into you with all the power in his hips and pulling out agonizingly slow, just to ram back in again. you moan out and let out incoherent babbles, he hums quizzically, and you lol your tongue out, his thrusts slow for a few seconds, chuckling darkly. he spits in your mouth, right on your tongue, and you can feel his thrusts speed up again as he grunts out “swallow then.”

and you do, you take all that he gives you, your cunt flutters around him again, your orgasm close as you claw at his large biceps, whimpering and moaning out, “f-faster, please daddy.” he groans, taking both his arms and balancing himself on top of you, but closer.

his hips move faster, not hard and agonizing anymore, but he listens to you. the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fills the room and mixes with the ragged breaths coming out of his mouth, and then loud moans you’re giving out, your hands go to his hair as you feel the knot in your stomach snap, scratching at his scalp and pulling at the back of his hair.

he moans, the sound cutting short as he presses his lips to yours, it’s messy, just a wet battle of tongues as you both swallow eachother’s sounds. a string of saliva connecting you both as your pussy gushes all around him, cumming with a scream and another pull on the raven strands of his hair.

he keeps giving you sloppy thrusts, helping you ride through your orgasm, “fuck— yeah, cum on daddy’s cock baby, just like that.” his voice is shaky, the words coming out between broken breaths and grunts. he gives you one last thrust, making your whole body shudder as he fills you up, his warm cum painting your insides, as he moans repeatedly, his brows scrunched and his forhead resting in the crook of your neck as he tries to calm himself.

he lays on top of you for a while, but slowly pulls away as you start groaning, his body weight crushing you. with a chuckle, he pulls out, and it’s the most beautiful sight you’ve seen. he’s on his knees between your legs, holding the base of his own cock as he pulls out slowly, one side of his hair is in the air, messy around his head and beads of sweat decorate his chest.

you whine out at the feeling of being so empty, and he snickers, shaking his head and leaving the room before you notice. did he just leave you? you lay on the bed, and try to get up before his cum can stain megumi’s sheets. your legs are shaking as you try to make it to the bathroom, your lower stomach burning with an unfamiliar pain, you had never taken a dick this big before.

you washed up, getting out the bathroom with shaky legs, holding the wall for support. until you bumped into a chest, again. you looked up, he looked the same as when he left the room, “you really need to stop doing that doll. unless you want me to destroy your cunt.” toji says with a smirk, making your cheeks heat up.

“why did you get up?” he asks with a raise of his brows. you struggle to stand, your knee buckling as his gaze goes down to your trembling legs, chuckling as he has you in his arms in the blink of an eye, carrying you back to megumi’s room. “you can’t even walk now can you?” he says teasingly. and you huff, furrowing your brows as he sits you back on the bed.

“I went to bring you a shirt. since ya know-“ you look up at him, your eyes sparkling as he holds a black shirt in his hands, giving you a smile, “arms up.” you obey, putting both your arms up, waiting for him to put his shirt on you. he licks his lips, grinning as he gives out a chuckle, looking at you tits being stretched up with your hands, you didn’t even notice. you squeak, putting your arms back down and on your chest, trying to cover them as he chuckles again, his green eyes hooded and dark as he watches you, “hiding them from me as if— how adorable.” he shook his head.

he threw you his shirt, “go on, megs will be here soon.” you wear the shirt, the fabric big on you, the musky smell filling your senses again. you couldn’t face megumi now, not in his dad’s shirt.

toji chuckles, moving his hand through his hair as he clicks his tongue, “don’t think he can see you like this can he? or would you want that?”

your cheeks grow red, and you nibble on your bottom lip as you shake your head.

he sighs, “come down to the garage after you put your pants on. or don’t, that’s even better.” he leaves the room with a chuckle.

what did you just do?

•••••••••••••••••••

taglist? @medusa1111 (@itadaklmasu cuz your reply said part 2 heh) @emilykcoxx @calamariie (cuz you guy replied to part 1, hope you like this too <3)

#toji fushiguro #toji smut #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji #toji jjk #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro toji #megumi jjk

760 notes · View notes

ihatebnha · 3 years ago

Note

dawg i am BEGGING YOU to consider doing a pt 2 of Icks with todo, deku , & bakugou. It was literally so fuckin funny man 😭😭😭 i fr have re read it so many times i’ve lost track at this point. It never fails to make me smile or laugh. And everything is so specific too & fits each one of them so perfectly that Horikoshi might as well just come out and say everything u wrote is canon. But i love ur blog wishing u the best <333

(icks pt. i here!)

you know..... just for this message specifically i will write you icks ANYTIME you want them. call me up when im 85 years old and dying and i will give icks. call me at my wedding and you're getting ICKS.

thank you so much for enjoying them tho... and for understanding my vision and being so sweet about it adjadsxfaklsd... i love them you a lot too!!!

hopefully, these compare:

Bakugo

Thinks it's cute to put his arm around your neck

Says stuff like, “you know that’s bad for you, right?”

Thinks he doesn’t need to brush his hair

Thinks it's funny to ignore you, but gets mad when you ignore him

Toenails are uneven

Ruins your outfits by making you bring a jacket everywhere

If you leave anything around that he's interested in (see: candy), he’s “confiscating” it

Calls self care “unnecessary…" and says shit like, “that’s terrible for battle” if you try to show him your nails or soft skin or something

Yells at the TV…

His mouth gets greasy when he eats... and he will try to wipe it off or clean his teeth with the bottom of his shirt

Watches you play phone or video games and gets mad if you make a wrong move

Walks (stomps) super fast for no reason??????

And has heavy ass footsteps that will wake you up in the morning

Mouth breathes

Likes back scratches but won’t scratch yours back (he’s bad at it, anyway)

And will not let you drop an argument for the life of you… political debate vibes except about stuff like how to clean the shower

His phone is super greasy, too... and he has one of those really old and bulky protective cases that doesn't even work

Grumpily says "what?" when he picks up the phone at work or in front of his friends

Snores

Deku

Sheds like an animal… you run your hands through his hair and at least five strands are getting caught in your fingers every single time

You clean the drain too, and it’s literally all his hair

Always forgets to put the toilet seat back down

Leaves half-full water bottles everywhere

And everybody says this, but… will eat your leftovers. And the last bit of ice cream you were saving for yourself

Stinky because he's always sweating... and literally smells like pure testosterone. You can always tell when he’s been somewhere because the room just always smells like Man

Tbh his shoes probably smell bad, too

“Oh wait, my mom gave me a coupon for this... hold on, let me find it...”

Khakis or dad jeans on his days off

And just look at a picture of this boy and tell me he doesn’t overpluck his eyebrows

Will walk in on you using the bathroom or showering because "he needed something"

And leaves all his shaving stubble in the sink if he's late to work

Thinks his puppy-dog eyes work

If you asked him to choose between you and All Might... he would hesitate

Listens to ASMR made by and for men

"Can't you just use a makeup wipe?"

Except he will (or try to, at least) use your skincare products without asking... and you can always tell when he has

Earwaxy

And yeah... you do have an All Might shrine somewhere in your house

Todoroki

“Can we have sex tonight?”

Thinks you can cook + make meals in the toaster oven

Reminds you to do your skincare routine… or some other basic task you probably already knew about

On chore day, he’s hard to get moving and “tires” easily… you find him on the couch 20 minutes into any task just… looking at his phone

Doesn't take you seriously when you're mad at him, either... and thinks you probably don't mean it or that he can fix it, anyway

“Hey, can I have some?” except he never waits for your answer

Also likes sharing silverware with you… which is really cute right up until he’s shoving a spoon he just put in his mouth right in front of your face

Very adamant about… touching you. If you let go of his hand, he’s literally waiting to grab it back. You scoot away from cuddles and he’s going after you… even if you just want some water or to check your phone or something

If you tell a white lie about something, he’s correcting you...

“Oh, sorry Momo... I’m busy Tuesday!”

“No, you’re not?”

Lowkey gets upset when you talk about hanging out with other boys… even if you just work or have class with them

Doesn't know any slang, either... comes home from hanging out with Deku and Bakugo only to ask you stuff like, "what's a chode?" or "what's sloppy toppy?"

“I liked *insert terrible movie here*”

Asks why you didn't finish eating something

Has thee worst taste in Tik Toks and memes... and sends you videos he thinks you'd like that really just aren't funny

Unironically wants to match outfits with you

And thinks you're getting married one week into the relationship... which is sweet, but also kinda freaky...

#bakugou x reader #deku x reader #todoroki x reader #bakugo #deku #todoroki #nothing will ever live up to the original icks #but i hope this is okay!!!#ily u anon a ton... ur so funny and sweet #ask #anon #caitie post #headcanons #icks tw

392 notes · View notes

phykios · 4 years ago

Text

Five Times Percy Jackson Cheated At School (And One Time Someone Cheated Him) [read on ao3]

thank you as always to @darkmagyk for inspo and beta-ing 💙💙💙 and thank you to @arosnowflake for the homer idea!

Percy squints at the paper prompt again, tilting his head, as if the new angle will extract some hidden information. It doesn’t change. The font is the special dyslexia-friendly one used by most departments at NRU, so he isn’t misreading it, either.

Your final will be an 8-10pp (TNR, 12pt, double-spaced) research paper expanding on one of the topics discussed in our class so far, or an alternate idea of your choosing, to be submitted in writing by May 7 with footnotes and bibliography. By 10am on the Wednesday before the Thursday class you will submit online a 750-word essay (word count does not include footnotes) on the research thread you have pursued that week (no written assignments due Week 6 or Week 12).

Percy might hate college.

“Your neck bothering you again?” Annabeth asks, coming up behind him, her hands already on his shoulders. She’s sweaty, dressed in workout clothes, having just come back in from a jog.

“My neck is fine,” he says. “Just preemptively freaking out over my Roman history final.”

He tilts his head back over the top of his chair, staring into the upside down, prettily frowning face of his girlfriend, and it does nothing to improve his mood.

“How bad is it?”

“Eight to ten pages,” Percy says, “not including footnotes.”

“Ouch.”

“And,” he grimaces, “it’s a topic of our choosing.”

Her mouth twists in sympathy. “Sucks.”

“Yep.”

“Anything I can do to help?” She squeezes his shoulders lightly, an open invitation.

He shakes his head, stretching his arms back to grab her waist. “Promise not to break up with me when you catch me crying at 4AM over it.”

“Promise.” And she seals it with a kiss, bending down to reach him. “Dad wants to know if you’re free on the 16th.”

“The 16th?” He wracks his brain. He’s pretty sure it doesn’t conflict with sailing, or Greek Club, or the monthly intra-pantheon relations council meeting that Chiron and Clarisse both guilted him into joining. “Pretty sure. Why?”

“Dinner--Charlotte’s out of town that weekend.”

“Sounds good.”

“Great, I’ll let him know. Now,” and she grins, “are you going to stare at that computer all day, or do you want to come and take a shower with me?”

Percy slams the computer shut.

He doesn’t think about his paper topic for a while after that.

***

To his great dismay, Percy gets to her dad’s house first on the 16th. Drama in writing group 🙄 she texts him as he gets to the door, be there asap.

Great. Alone in the house with his girlfriend’s dad. Taking a deep breath, he knocks on the door.

Not a minute later, Dr. Chase opens it. Last time they went to visit, Percy and Annabeth had ended up waiting outside for almost a quarter of an hour. “Oh, Percy,” he says, fumbling his flight helmet off his head. “Goodness, I thought I’d lost track of time again. Come in, come in.”

“Thanks,” Percy says, stepping inside and shedding his jacket. “Annabeth’s running late, but she said she’d be here soon.”

He frowns, looking so much like Annabeth that it throws Percy for several loops. “Well, that’s alright,” he says. “I’m sure we can entertain ourselves well enough until she gets here.”

“Yeah,” Percy chuckles, uneasy.

Several seconds pass.

“Oh!” starts Dr. Chase. “Right, yes. Come in. Would you like something to drink?”

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t get much better.

A few minutes of staggered conversation later, it becomes eminently clear why they need Annabeth between them. It’s not the awkward small talk that doesn’t go anywhere (“How’s school going for you?” “It’s okay.” “Good, that’s good to hear.”) or the fact that Dr. Chase doesn’t really grasp how to relate to younger kids (“Have you heard of this website called ‘Vine’?”), but more that it’s just painfully obvious that the two of them don’t really know where they stand with each other.

Now, he knows that Frederick Chase doesn’t hate him. Objectively, he’s aware of the fact that, if it weren’t for him, Annabeth never would have reconnected with her father in the first place, and he kind of owes him for that. Also, Percy knows that he’s a pretty chill guy--a little scatterbrained, but chill.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to make a good impression, though. Or that Dr. Chase thinks that Percy is smart enough for his daughter. Because, like, Percy isn’t smart enough for Annabeth--that much is obvious. Dr. Chase was courted by Athena. Percy barely made it out of high school calculus.

“Would you…” Dr. Chase hedges, plucking off his glasses and giving them a quick wipe with his shirtsleeve. “Would you like to see some of my current research?”

“Uh… sure. I’d love to.”

At the very least, hopefully Dr. Chase will talk enough for the both of them, eating up time until Annabeth gets here.

A new spring in his step, Dr. Chase leads Percy to his study, where he’s got a setup worthy of Cabin Six: on his desk is a massive map of the Mediterranean, littered with miniatures of tanks, planes, and ships. Ringing the room are wall-hangings, depicting different types of planes, half of their structure in x-rays like people in an anatomy textbook, sandwiching the giant viking sword which hangs directly behind his chair. Every inch of floor space is occupied with a pile of books, some serving as additional desk space for mugs, notepads, spare toy soldiers, and, in one case, what looks like the leftovers of a handful of celestial bronze spearheads, melted down into shiny, useless nuggets.

“You know I primarily study aviation,” Dr. Chase is saying, tidying up as he walks around the room, “but my colleagues and I are collaborating on an interdisciplinary re-evaluation of the entire North African theatre in World War II. It’s fascinating stuff; until very recently, they used to call it the ‘war without hate,’ given the lack of partisan roundups and, ah, ethnic clashes that you see in Europe--absolute garbage, of course. As if there weren’t civilians caught up in the fighting, too!” He chuckles, pleased at his own joke. Percy forces a laugh out of himself. “Anyway, with my prior experience studying the invasion of Sicily, I was brought on to assist in piecing the timeline together, working backwards from 1943.”

“Cool,” says Percy, filling the natural gap of conversation.

“Extremely! Operation Husky was a terrific endeavor of airborne, amphibious, and land-based combat.”

Percy nods. Amphibious? “Uh-huh.”

“Though, I must admit, I am having a little trouble retracing some of the ships.” Peering over his map, he leans down, fiddling with one of the ships. “You see this one here? The Palmer?”

Stepping up to the desk, Percy crouches down so the little toy ship is at eye level.

“Well, based on official records, the Palmer was supposed to have arrived at the rendezvous point at the same time as all the other ships, but ended up delayed by two days, and I can’t… quite…” He moves the ship again, frowning. “Figure out… why…”

“Where were they sailing through?” Percy asks.

Dr. Chase points to the map. “From Alexandria to Malta.”

“They probably just hit a bad couple of currents,” Percy says, standing up.

Tilting his head, Dr. Chase peers at him. “How do you mean?”

“If you’re going through the Cretan Passage, you’re going to hit all kinds of West-East currents which will push you backwards.” Snatching up a pencil from a nearby book stack, Percy lightly sketches on top of the map, tracing along the North African coast. “There are tons of overlapping currents in this area that push boats around in circles, especially around Sicily. That’s one of the reasons why so many historians figure that Homer was referring to the Strait of Messina when Odysseus goes through Scylla and Charybdis, here.” And he circles the strait, with a confident flourish.

When he pulls back, Dr. Chase is staring at him.

Percy blinks. “Um… sorry I drew on your map.”

“You--I have been trying to figure that out for weeks.”

He coughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry.”

But Dr. Chase just laughs. “You can make it up to me by helping me with these next.” Clearing crumbs off of southern France, he bends over, pencil in hand. “So, say you were trying to get from Marseilles to Tunis…”

Forty-five minutes later, still embroiled in battle recreations of the Mediterranean theatre, they don’t hear Annabeth letting herself in with her key, not even registering her presence until Dr. Chase, grasping for a notebook, spots her leaning against the doorway. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“Oh, Annabeth, dear! I’m sorry,” says Dr. Chase, going over to give her a hug. “We didn’t hear you come in.”

“I can see that,” she says. “What are you guys doing?”

“Percy here has been assisting me with naval movements,” he says, proudly.

Lacing her fingers with his, Annabeth steps over to Percy, studying their battle map. “Really?”

“Oh yes, he’s been phenomenally helpful.”

She kisses his cheek, pleased. “Look at you, Mr. ‘Phenomenally Helpful.’”

“It was pretty fun,” he admits, warm all over.

“I’d bet. Although, I guess this means we should probably order in for dinner…?”

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Dr. Chase smiles. “Yes, I suppose we should. Does pizza sound all right to you two?”

“Let me take care of it,” she says, slipping from Percy’s side. “You guys looked like you were in the middle of something. Extra olives, dad?”

“Don’t forget--”

“And anchovies, Percy, I know.” She rolls her eyes, taking out her phone.

Rather than the three of them move into the kitchen, Annabeth ends up bringing the pizza in with her, because of course she has opinions she’d like to share about the Allies’ naval movements.

“You know, Percy,” says Dr. Chase, “I must say, you have a real knack for this kind of thing. Have you thought about what you might major in yet?”

Ah, the million drachmae question. “Not yet,” he says, fiddling with a pencil. “I figured I’d get through my gen eds first and then see which one I hated the least.”

“I think you should consider majoring in history.”

Percy’s head snaps up. “History?”

“Specifically maritime history, I suppose. Your predisposition to sailing and ocean currents would be a huge asset to your research.”

“But--wouldn’t history have, like, a metric ton of required reading? I’m not really sure that’s my area.” He has a daughter with dyslexia and ADHD; surely he’d understand Percy’s hesitation.

But he just shakes his head. “Graduate programs these days are very favorable towards interdisciplinary methodology, I sincerely doubt you’d have to barricade yourself in the library. And recently there’s been a significant push to make the field more accessible to students with disabilities, including things like digitization, screen reading for people with vision impairments, and even restructuring programs all together so that students no longer have to memorize the Encyclopedia Britannica in order to pass their general exams.”

“That’s really nice of you to say, Dr. Chase,” Percy says, “But history class isn’t like talking over naval movements with you.” He thought back to the paper that had lowkey been haunting his dreams. “Like, in my classical history survey, I can’t just… talk about currents and battle plans. I have to come up with a topic on my own, and then write about that.”

“Surely something involving Roman naval movements would be well within your skill set. You have a second sense about these things,” he chuckles, “clearly.”

Percy glances towards Annabeth, hoping she’ll back him up, but she looks thoughtful. Considering. Like she’s actually thinking about her dad’s proposal. “I can’t just choose something in naval history.”

“Why not?”

“Because… it's too easy?”

If it was anything like his afternoon with Dr. Chase, it might even be fun. And school isn’t supposed to be fun.

He repeats that thought to Annabeth as they drive home. “School isn’t supposed to be fun.”

“No,” Annabeth agrees, “but I don’t know… I like my intro art history class way better than anything we ever did in high school because I actually care about it. Maybe if you write about stuff you’re good at, like my dad suggested, you’ll like it more.”

The idea follows him all the way to bed, where he’s still mulling it over at 2 in the morning. Before he can chicken out, he grabs his phone, shooting off a quick email to his professor with his potential paper topic, then rolls over, eventually falling asleep.

By morning, he has a response.

Sounds good! Looking forward to it.

***

With shaking hands, Percy calls his mom. “Yes?”

“Hey mom.”

“Percy?” He hears her perk up, almost visualizing her sitting up in her chair. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

Mom instincts. They can always tell when something is different. His heart throbs in his chest. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, smiling stretching across his face. “It’s just--I got my paper back.”

Percy had ended up writing his paper about the Roman navy movements in the Battle of the Aegates in 241 BC. It was probably the most fun he’s ever had on a school assignment, or at least the most fun he’d ever had writing a paper.

“And?” She sounds expectant, hopeful. His mom has always had such faith in him, even with thirteen years of schooling to prove her otherwise.

He looks back at his email, just to make sure he’s reading it right. “I got an A.”

She gasps. He can hear the scrape of the chair as she stands up. “Percy, that’s wonderful!”

“Thank you.”

“An A!”

He smiles into his fist, inordinately pleased. “Thank you.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I am so happy for you!”

“Thanks, mom.”

“I’m so proud of you, Percy.” Her voice is soft now, like twilights on the beach with blue marshmallows. “I know how hard you’ve worked for this. You should be very proud, too.”

“I am.” And he is, weirdly enough. “I just can’t believe it.”

“I can.” His mom must be grinning, her eyes sparkling. “I always knew you could do it.”

“Sally?” He hears in the background, muffled. “Is that Percy?”

“Paul, Percy got an A on his Roman history paper!”

A second voice crowds its way in, equally excited. “An A? That’s great, kiddo! Congratulations.”

Why can’t he stop smiling? “Thanks.”

“I bet that feels pretty good, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

“Well, it is very well-deserved,” says Paul. “That was some great work you did. I could tell how passionate you were about your topic just from your first sentence.”

“Thank you.” Maybe he should be worried about all this praise going to his head, but damn, is it nice. “Listen, I have to go get started on dinner, but I just wanted to give you a call.”

“Of course,” says his mom. “I want to hear from you more, okay? Tell me more good news! Like when are you and Annabeth going to--”

“I’m working on it, okay?” says Percy, smiling even more broadly. “I’ll keep you posted, promise.”

She laughs, tinny and happy. “You’d better. Congratulations again, sweetheart.”

“Thanks mom. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

And he hangs up, puts his phone down on the table, tilts his head back, and sighs, full, happy, a release.

Maybe college won’t be so bad after all.

“You don’t have to do this,” Frank says, hushed. “All you have to do is walk away.”

Five Greek Fire bombs, cloudy yellow, are lined up on the table in front of him, neatly laid out in front of five twenties. From the side, Frank stares him down, surrounded by an army of morbidly curious Romans. Someone turned off the music and turned on the lights a while ago, stopping the party in its tracks, every eye on Percy and his opponent. Figures, his first college party all year and he causes a scene.

Percy grips the edge of the table. “He insulted the Mets,” he says for the millionth time. “I can’t let that shit stand.”

Frank sighs. “Annabeth?” he asks, hoping to stop this nonsense.

Turning to his side, Percy sees his girlfriend, two drinks in, her cheeks lightly flushed, but solid as she stands beside him, supporting him. Her eyes are hard, fierce, the warrior gaze of Athena all but leaping out of her. “Do it,” she says.

William, the sour-faced Roman legacy of Juventus, scowls. “A hundred bucks on the table. Sixty seconds. No throwing them back up.”

“Deal.”

“Frank,” Annabeth calls. “Start the clock.”

He sighs. “You guys are idiots.”

“Frank!”

“Okay, okay.” He holds out his phone, thumb primed, hovering over the screen. “On your marks, in three… two… one…”

He hits zero, and Percy grabs a shot glass. Squeezing his eyes shut, he brings it to his lips, and throws it back.

It’s… not what he expected.

The tequila is awful--no getting around that. Even to Percy’s untrained taste buds, having really only ever had some of Gabe’s sour beer (under duress) and some of the Demeter cabin’s strawberry wine (on his eighteenth birthday, a celebration for actually getting to graduate high school), he can tell it’s cheap, rank, unrefined shit, like he’s drinking straight toilet cleaner. But the garum, the weird Roman condiment that the shot is mixed with, the one that Percy had never heard of before, it’s… it almost tastes like the fish sauce that comes with the pork and rice noodles from the Vietnamese place down the corner of his mom’s apartment, only less… fishy? Yeah. Less fishy.

It’s a weird taste. It’s not bad, by any means, it just--straight up, it just tastes like saltwater. Like the sea.

And, well. Percy can handle the sea.

He looks at William, and grins. “You are so fucked.”

The assembled Romans cheer, spectators at a gladiator show, as Percy knocks back the rest of the Greek Fire bombs, one after another, clearing them all in under thirty seconds. Annabeth swipes up the cash, shrieking as she throws her arms around Percy. William wanders off, red-faced and glaring, as whoever turned the music off before flips it back on, the night, and the party, saved.

Silly Percy. He should have known what was coming next.

Thirty minutes later, he is well and truly wasted.

“You’re, like, really pretty,” he shouts at Annabeth over the loud music.

She snorts, grinning at him. “Thanks.”

“Seriously,” he slurs, tipping forward on his feet. “You could be a model.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Remember when we were fourteen,” he yells, bracing himself against the wall, “and you got kidnapped by that monster?” Slightly soberer but still a little flushed, she bites her lip, nodding. “Well, I followed the rescue party--I told you that, that I snuck out of camp to follow the rescue party? Right?”

“You did.”

He takes a sip of water, running his tongue around the inside of his mouth. Feels goofy as fuck. “We got hijacked by Aphrodite halfway through, and when I saw her, I thought--I thought, ‘Holy shit, she looks a little like Annabeth.’”

Her brows shoot up, smile pulling at her lips. “Really?”

He nods. “Totally! But you’re way, way p--”

Still smiling, she silences him with a kiss, the lingering taste of hard cider on her tongue. “I appreciate it,” she murmurs, grinning, “but you probably shouldn’t say that out loud.”

“Gross.”

From out of nowhere, like he always does, the weasley little shit, Nico di Angelo is suddenly in their space, looking surly and emo as ever, red solo cup in his left hand. “Nico!” Percy crows, grabbing for him and missing. “How’s my favorite cousin?!”

Ducking his wildly swinging limbs, Nico grimaces in the way that Percy has to come to recognize as his attempt at a smile. “Better’n you,” he says, a little wobbly. “What’s up with him?” he directs towards Annabeth.

“Greek Fire bombs. Five.”

“You’re a psychopath.”

“What!” Percy pouts. “He insulted the Mets.”

“Aren’t you s’posed to be, like…” Nico snaps his fingers, words momentarily escaping him. “A--representation… person? For the Greeks?”

Percy waves his hand, hitting the wall. “Fuck that. The Greeks can handle themselves. The Mets are sacred!”

“Are you with anyone?” Annabeth asks, momentarily taking up Percy’s usual role of concerned parent friend while he is drunk off his ass. Theoi, he loves this girl so much.

Nico shakes his head. “No, but Will and I are staying with--”

A thought suddenly blooms in Percy’s tequila-soaked brain. “Nico!” He shouts.

“What?” he hisses, glaring.

Percy pushes himself off of the wall, outstretched arms managing to box Nico in, falling on his shoulders and trapping him. He’s still a short, skinny little shit, the fuck, when are his Big Three genes going to kick in? “I need to talk to you about the thing.”

“The what?”

“The thing! The--the,” then he leans in, scream-whispering over the pounding bassline. “The thing.”

“That doesn’t help.”

“You know, it’s…” Percy licks his lips, language escaping him for a hot second. “Round. Metal. Jewelry thing.”

A beat, then Nico’s eyes widen. “Oh, that thing.”

“Yes, that thing!” Pulling back, he pulls Nico towards him, slinging an arm over his shoulders in a half-headlock. Annabeth watches, bemused, lips pursed as she tries not to smile. “I need to borrow Nico for a sec,” he says, words spilling out of him. “Back soon. Later. Soon.”

Her eyes crinkle, grey sparkling. She’s so fucking pretty. “Drink your water.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Then together, like some three-legged beast, the two boys lurch away deeper into the party, Nico leading them towards the kitchen. “Where’re you taking me?” Percy slurs. “‘M I being kidnapped again?”

“If I’m helping you plan out this stupid proposal,” he grumbles, pouring himself more vodka, “then I need to be less sober.”

***

Some mistakes may have been made.

“Where’s Annabeth?” Percy mumbles, looking back towards the house. The party is still raging, someone’s muffled Spotify playlist making a real racket, the greatest hits of ABBA still bouncing around his skull.

“Simp.” Nico, swaying a little, tries to stand up from his kneeling position, only to fall heavily back down on his knees. “She’s right where you left her.”

Discussing Percy's proposal plan had led to more drinking. More drinking had led to the two of them discussing their shared preference for blondes. (“Malcolm is pretty cute,” Nico admitted, flushing, and Percy almost screamed, “Isn’t he?! Sometimes I think about Annabeth with short hair looking like Malcolm and I almost start crying because she’d be so cute!”) Which then led to even more drinking. Which then led to general bitching about their lives, about Percy's hard-ass classics professor Dr. Bauer who he actually really liked but just pushed him so hard and expected so much of him, and Nico's half-brother Zagreus who was causing some family drama by picking fights with Hades all the time and also hooking up with both Thanatos AND the fury Megaera, which, ew, which then led to Percy inhaling his drink, nearly choking to death on unspecified college punch, Nico laughing at him all the while, as he had the most incredible idea.

"Nico!" He shouted, crushing the red solo cup. "Can you resurrect Homer for me?"

Nico gaped, staring. "What."

"Seriously! I need to ask him something for my paper."

"Percy." Nico gazed at him, all the power of the Ghost King boring into his soul, deep and haunting. Percy stifled a burp. "You're a fucking genius."

Which is how they found themselves around a shallow hole they had dug in the backyard, a large bottle of Pepsi originally intended as a mixer pilfered from the kitchen along with two slices of pepperoni pizza dumped on the grass beside them.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this," he says, uneasy even through his drunken haze.

"It was your idea!"

"I don't have good ideas."

“Fuck you, I’m doing it.” With all the force of a tiny, angry kitten, he snatches up the Pepsi bottle, wrestling with the twist cap for a good ten seconds. “I wanna give that bitch a piece of my mind for making me cry in school.”

Percy looks at him sideways. “Hector killing Patroclus got you, too?”

He snorts. “Fuck no. Achilles didn’t pay his dues to the dead.”

“Seriously?”

The cap pops off, and Nico tips the bottle over, dumping flat, lukewarm soda into the shallow hole. “It’s the ultimate dishonor!”

Freak. Percy would die for the kid.

“Let the dead taste again,” Nico mutters. “Let them rise and take this offering. Let them remember.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Says the guy who’s related to both horses and water.”

“I’m not related to water, I just control it.”

The dirt turns black, dead soil mixed with sticky sugar water. Nico drops in the pizza, and begins to chant, that same ancient Greek that Percy heard in a dream once, talking of death and memories and returning from the grave or whatever. It’s still creepy as shit.

Despite the warm California night, the air thickens with chilly fog. Silence, impenetrable, surrounds them, blocking out the noises of the party. From the earth, blueish, vaguely person-shaped figures begin to form, like thunderous clouds before a storm. “Which one is Homer?” he asks, hushed.

“Shh!” Nico hisses.

Like little wells of gravity, the fog begins to coalesce. On one of them, Percy can almost make out, like, fingers. “Um, Mr. Homer? Sir?”

The figure doesn’t say anything. It lowers its mouth, drinking the soda out of the dirt. When it raises its head, Percy can see it more clearly, curly hair and milky white eyes and a straight nose. It--he?--seems a little more solid than your average run-of-the-mill ghost.

Nico frowns, eyes closed, concentrating. “What’s your name?” he mumbles.

That mouth opens, soundlessly, jaw working on nothing.

“Speak.”

It--there’s a sound, like hissing, only it’s not coming from the mouth, Percy thinks. It sounds like it’s coming from the earth. “Nico?” he asks. “You good?”

The ghost opens its mouth again, moaning, raising its hands. Weakly, unsteadily, it stumbles forward on feeble legs, tripping over the shallow hole in the dirt.

“Nico?” he asks again, a little more forcefully. “What’s going on, dude?”

Nico blinks, slowly, mouth hanging open a little. “Uh.”

The… thing… raises itself up on its hands? He guesses, and knees, crawling its way over towards them.

Now, Percy may be drunk off his ass, but he has seen enough movies to know exactly what the fuck is up.

Moving with a speed he didn’t quite think was possible right about now, he grabs Nico’s wrist, and pulls him up, dragging him along as he lurches towards the house. “Percy…” Nico moans, stumbling over a rock. “I think I fucked up.”

“You think?” Percy wrenches the door open, tossing Nico inside, before following in after, throwing himself against the door.

Nico groans, throwing his arms over his face. “Dio santo, my head.”

“Forget your head,” he says, “did we just raise a Homer zombie?!”

Panting, Nico stares up at him, sprawled on the floor of the house. “Oops.”

Percy thunks his head against the door. He does not have nearly enough mental capacity to deal with this right now.

But, he thinks ruefully, at least it’s just one. Even drunk, he’s pretty sure he can handle one zombie.

Nico’s eyes widen.

Percy stares. “What.”

“I didn’t stop the ritual.”

His stomach goes cold.

Turning around slowly, he pulls aside the little curtain on the window. “What?” Nico asks. “What do you see?”

Percy can’t speak, mouth dry.

Slithering up behind, Nico peers over his shoulder. “That’s… not great.”

“Nico,” Percy says, eyeing the horde which slowly shambles closer, half-decayed bodies in togas bumping into each other, almost identical to the drunk college students inside, as the song changes, once again, to ‘Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight).’ “Please go get Frank and Annabeth.”

The following Monday, an announcement is sent out to the entire campus: Per new department guidelines, students may not utilize the ambassador of Pluto to interview the dead for academic purposes.

Percy attempts to flatten his hair. He readjusts his shirt. He almost wipes his sweaty palms on his pants, before he realizes what he’s doing, and clenches them instead, nails digging into his palms. He turns to Annabeth. “Do I look okay?”

“Ooh, ‘Mapping Funerary Monuments in the Periphery of Imperial Rome.’”

“Annabeth.”

She looks up from her brochure. “Relax, seaweed brain, you look fine. You look better than most people here.”

“That’s because I bring down the average age of presenters by about thirty years,” he hisses, eyes darting about at the milling mass of attendees, all packed into the hotel ballroom.

Dr. Bauer had alternately convinced/pressured/guilttripped him into attending this year’s annual conference for the Society of Classical Studies to talk about the research he’d been doing with her. This year, the conference was held in San Francisco, so at the very least Percy didn’t have to spend five hours stressing about his poster presentation while simultaneously up in the air. But now that he’s here, in the ballroom, surrounded by strangers who know way more about this subject than he does, who are actually smart and probably never nearly flunked out of school or got kicked out or--

“Hey.” Annabeth takes his hand. “I know that look. You deserve to be here just as much as any of them.”

“Do I? I feel like any moment someone is going to come over and throw me out for trespassing.” He vaguely recalls something similar happening to him as a kid after he had ducked into the lobby of a semi-nice hotel to dodge what he had thought, at the time, was just a weird stalker, but had later realized had only had one eye. In any case, the hotel security guard had practically picked him up by the scruff of his neck, tossing him back out into the street.

“That’s just your imposter syndrome talking,” she reassures him. “No one is going to throw you out.”

He sure as shit hopes so. It would be a shame to have done all this work for nothing.

Glancing back at his poster, Percy can’t help but feel… good. Accomplished. Proud. About a school assignment, of all things.

His poster traces the development of the prow from the Greek penteconter, to the Roman liburna, and finally to the Byzantine dromon, looking at artistic depictions in history. Percy had picked the topic himself, spending hours in the library reading, writing, and hand-drawing cross-sections of the ships on the poster board when the images he had gotten from the Cambridge University library had been too small. It had been grueling, frustrating work, but fun, too. And not nearly as much reading as he had feared.

Dr. Chase proofread it for him. Dr. Bauer signed off on it. And Annabeth had taken one look at it, smiled, then kissed his cheek.

That was the best compliment he had gotten.

Though now he’s kind of torn between showing it off and hiding it away before one of these attendees figures out that he doesn’t belong.

He rocks back and forth and his feet, pursing his lips, randomly clicking his tongue. Annabeth nudges him. “Your ADHD is showing.”

That’s when, finally, one of the attendees steps up to his poster. He certainly has the look of a professor, in a black cable knit sweater with grey, curly hair and a receding hairline, thin, rimless glasses perched on his nose. He squints at Percy’s poster, rubbing his chin with one hand. “Interesting,” he murmurs, in a thick German accent. “Very interesting. This is yours?”

“Um.” He glances at Annabeth, who is frowning at the brochure, silently sounding out words that she can’t read. “Yep. All mine.”

“Very interesting.” He leans in closer, tilting his head. “So you agree with Pryor and Jeffreys about the skeleton-first construction, then?”

Percy blinks. Pryor and Jeffreys had written The Age of the Dromon, arguing that the ram, which had been a key feature of Roman liburnians, had gone away in ancient ship construction because of developments in how they built the hull. Right. “Yes,” he says. “The skeleton-first construction is a lot stronger than the, um,” shit, what was the name for this, Leo had only told him about a million times--oh! “Mortise-and-tenon!” He nearly shrieks. “The mortise-and-tenon method. It, um, it wears out a lot more quickly than the frame, so… yeah.” He clears his throat.

He nods. “Very interesting.”

Percy stares. Can this guy say anything else?

“This is very well done, young man.”

Oh. “Thank you,” he says.

“Who are you working with?”

“Um, June Bauer?” He winces at the accidental question.

He frowns. “I’m not familiar with her work. Where does she teach?”

What a loaded question. “Uh… New Rome University.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s--she used to teach at Northwestern, if that helps. Um, retired,” Percy says.

The frown stays, but at least he doesn’t ask any more questions. “Hmm. Well, this is excellent research, nonetheless. I look forward to reading your dissertation.” Then, distracted by something else, he wanders off, chin still attached to his hand.

“Who was that?” Annabeth asks.

Percy shrugs. “Beats me. Also, what’s a dissertation?”

“It’s like a senior thesis, but, like, five hundred pages long.”

Five hundred?! “Fuck me.”

“Maybe later,” Annabeth smirks. “It looks like you’ve got company.”

Sure enough, a smallish group of four people are approaching, led by Dr. Chase, making a beeline straight for them. “Here we are,” Dr. Chase says, gesturing. “This is the project I was telling you about. Percy, would you mind going over your poster for us?”

“No problem, Dr. C,” says Percy, smiling his least-grimace-y smile.

As one, the adults all turn to look at him, faces politely blank, expectant.

Percy swallows. “So,” he begins, “um, this research is about the development of ship construction in the Roman empire…”

He trips up on some of the words, and at one point, he sees Dr. Chase squint in the way that usually means that Percy is speaking too fast, but all in all, he doesn’t totally fall flat on his face. His audience looks engaged, nodding along as Percy moves from point to point, and no one accuses him of being a giant fraud, which is pretty nice.

At one point, Percy turns to the poster to indicate a specific point on his ship diagrams. When he turns back, his audience has suddenly multiplied, four people turning into a whole goddamn crowd. Each person gives him their undivided attention almost unblinking.

His mouth goes dry. “Um…”

Dr. Chase, bless him, saves his ass once again. “Would mind starting again from the beginning, Percy?” he asks, a little bemused himself at the amount of people that had suddenly appeared.

Silence stretches on for a moment, the muffled noise of the rest of the conference like a dull roar in his ear.

Annabeth, behind him, coughs.

“S-sure. No problem.”

Swallowing, he closes his eyes, breathing in through his nose. Why, oh why did he let Dr. Bauer talk him into doing this again?

He pictures the tides of Long Island Sound, gentle and rocking, unhurried and unbothered, tries to match his breathing to them. When he opens his eyes, unfortunately, the crowd hasn’t disappeared. Everyone is still staring at him.

But Annabeth stands next to her dad, flashing him a big smile and two huge thumbs up.

Percy relaxes. He’s got this.

“Okay,” he says. “So, about the middle of the first millennium CE, ship construction went through a couple of major developments…”

This time goes much, much more smoothly. He’s not sure what it is--though it’s probably Annabeth, her face fixed in a gentle smile as she watches him speak. Gods, what did he do in a past life to deserve someone as amazing as his girlfriend?

That’s the only reason he can do this. Hell, that’s the only reason he even thought to do this. If he didn’t have Annabeth there, encouraging him, cheering him on, he never would have had the confidence to put himself out there like this. She’s there to pick him up when he doubts himself, there to listen when he can’t explain himself, there to give him feedback when he needs to practice.

She makes him feel so strong. She makes him feel like he can take on the world--or at the very least, that he can impress a handful of academics.

And they certainly seem impressed with his talk so far.

“Excuse me,” says a nasally, pinched looking older British guy, face lined as though he lived his life in a state of perpetual squinting. “I find your conclusions to be suspect--wouldn’t the frame method be more susceptible to breaking than the mortise-and-tenon?”

Well, most of them, anyway.

Percy shakes his head. “You’d think, but no. If you look at the study by Steffy, you’ll see that the three-finned ram from the Athlit wreck was designed specifically to break the mortise-and-tenon hull by causing the planks to flex, so that they’d dislodge the joinerys right next to them. A blow like that can cause the wood to split right down the middle.” A blow like that had sunk Sherman Yang’s ship when they tested it out on the lake at camp last summer, the naiads practically hurling him out of the water so quickly Percy didn’t even have to dive in to save him.

“How were you able to do these strength tests?” asks another listener, an older woman with a thick Hungarian accent.

“Hands-on battle simulations,” Percy replies, easily. “We took our models and tested them in as accurate a simulation as we could make.”

“And how big were these models?”

Percy holds his hands apart, a vague, entirely inaccurate estimate. “About thirty meters, give or take.”

Her eyes widen. “How on earth did you get your hands on such a large ship?”

Percy freezes. “Uh.”

Oh, shit.

He had forgotten--most people didn’t have dads who could summon shipwrecks from the bottom of the sea, dropping them off at Camp Half-Blood with nothing but a sand dollar and one or two exhausted, pissed off hippocampi who had had to drag them all the way there.

“Um,” he stammers, licking his lips, thinking fast--c’mon, Percy, think! “I…” He swallows, panicking. “I… b… built one.”

In the corner of his eye, Annabeth facepalms.

Simultaneously, every mouth in the crowd drops--in shock, outrage, and even excitement. “You built one?!” the woman yelps.

Oops. “I had help,” Percy says, quickly.

Annabeth adds a second hand to her facepalm.

“Where?” The first man asks, his bushy brows flying above the rim of his glasses.

“At my… summer camp…”

Dr. Chase sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I mean,” Percy chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, trying not to sweat too obviously, “it was either that or lanyards, am I right?”

Dr. Chase, thank Athena, raises his hand, ready to step in. “What Percy means to say, I believe,” he says, attempting to draw their attention, “is that--”

“That’s amazing!” says another woman, probably a grad student attendee based on the fact that she’s wearing jeans. “Do you have pictures?”

Oh this is not good. “Um, not--not on me, but--”

“I do.” Annabeth takes out her phone, holding it up to the person next to her.

Percy blinks. “You do?” He doesn’t remember her taking any pictures.

She shoots him a look, two parts exasperated and one part “shut up and let me handle this,” with just a dash of fondness in the mix. Pointedly, she looks at him, eyebrows raised, indicating that he should continue.

Oh. She’s using Mist. And he needs to keep their attention on him so that they buy it. “Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Any more questions?”

His audience placated for now, passing around Annabeth’s phone, he manages to finish up his presentation. After fielding a few more questions, people start to peel off, distracted by other posters and presenters in the ballroom. When everyone has finally wandered away, Dr. Chase comes up and pats Percy’s shoulder awkwardly. “Nice work,” he says, and he seems like he means it. “A little touch-and-go there for a while, hm?”

“A little.”

He chuckles. “Still, you should be proud. I don’t know how many undergraduates would be able to handle that kind of pressure.”

“I mean,” Percy says, shrugging a shoulder, “it’s about on par with leading an army. Maybe a little less.” Honestly, maybe even a little more stressful. If a monster had decided to attack the convention center and interrupt his presentation, he probably would have been relieved.

He’d been worried for a moment that he’d undone all those years of work in making Annabeth’s dad like him. And that he’d be charged with some sort of academic fraud, for the whole “I have a boat” thing without proof. Thank the gods for Annabeth, as always.

She’s looking at him now through narrowed eyes. She at least can’t be surprised--that was far from the dumbest thing she’s ever seen him do. At least his “I spent most of my time at magic greek mythology summer camp” covers are normally better than hers. As someone who spent his formative years in the real world, he’s usually pretty good at keeping the demigod thing under wraps.

“Come on,” she says, grabbing his hand. She pulls him off, through the dispersing crowd, lacing their fingers together, sweet and intimate, out of the hall and then down another one, and through a smaller corridor. Bringing them up to a little door, with a shake of her wrist, she pulls out her Estruscan keyring bracelet. About several of the keys have found themselves used in various misadventures, vanishing once their purpose is fulfilled, but her favorite key is still there. And, just like a clever child of Hermes, it can pick just about any lock.

Inside is just an empty room, a little staging area surrounded by tiered desks going up, no more or less remarkable than any of the other conference rooms they’d visited before.

“What--?” His question is cut off by Annabeth’s mouth on his.

Surprising, but definitely not unwelcome.

It's a while before they separate again. “You’re so good at this,” she tells him, unbuttoning his shirt.

He runs his hands along the lines of her flanks. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” he grins. He’d practice kissing her all day long if he could.

She smiles, shaking her head. “No, not this,” though she does lean in for another kiss, pulling at his lower lip with her teeth. “I know you’re good at this.” They break away, Percy pulling her shirt over her head, Annabeth shucking off his. “But history. Presenting.” She runs a finger over his chest, kissing his cheek, headed towards the sensitive spot on his jaw. “Gods, you’re so smart.”

Something about the praise vibrates through his chest. She doesn’t sound surprised, or anything, just--turned on.

“You had all those crusty academics eating out of your hand. Just, so impressed by you, knowing you know way more than they do about naval history. When you were explaining the--” Her compliment is cut off with a moan, as he leans down and starts sucking on her throat. Her blouse has a high neck, so he feels no guilt for using his teeth.

“Watching you today, gods.” Her breath is labored as his fingers play at the waistline of her skirt. “And then thinking of you defending your dissertation.” He bites at her jugular, and she lets out a long, deep moan.

“I don’t know what that means.” Do academics fight each other? Like, with weapons? He’s pretty sure he can take most of the people he met today.

“It means you get to show off how smart you are,” Annabeth says, grasping his shoulders, pulling him in for another kiss. “I was born the day my dad defended his. Gods, it's going to be amazing to watch you go.” She yanks his belt out of his pants, tossing it to the floor.

They miss the panel on recent translation efforts. But Percy can’t say he minds one bit.

And when Annabeth presents him with a positive pregnancy test two months later, Percy definitely knows he made the right decision.

He almost doesn’t realize he’s having a dream-vision at first.

It has been literal years since he’s had a demigod dream. Hell, it’s been a long while since he’s had a dream, period--being a new dad to a one-and-a-half-year-old saps too much of his energy to even think about dreaming. Once Junie is put to bed, when he’s out, he is fucking out, and he does not have the brainpower to spare to manifest any messed up subconscious fears.

Which is why when he blinks open his eyes, taking in the too-bright colors of the Parthenon and the gleaming shine of the bronze statues which are somehow all looking at him--also, you know, how the Parthenon is complete, standing as it did thousands of years ago, and not crumbled into ruins--he knows, immediately, he is being contacted by a god.

And only one god in particular would bring him to Athens.

Without even checking, he heaves himself up off the ground, folding into a kneel. “My lady Athena,” he says, “can I ask for what quest you’ve brought me here?”

“Impertinent as ever, Percy Jackson,” rumbles the goddess, but Percy doesn’t think he can sense any ill will towards him. He hopes, anyway. “Perhaps I have summoned you here for a social visit.”

“Perhaps,” he says, choosing his next words as carefully as possible. “But I assume you have too much to worry about to randomly check up on your daughter’s boyfriend.”

He lifts his head, catching her expression--stoic as always, but maybe with just the barest hint of a smile. “You assume correctly. You have become, contrary to my initial expectations, very wise in the time that I have known you.”

“Thank you.” He knows better than to do anything but accept the compliment for what it is.

“I have observed your work as a scholar in recent years, and I must say that I am surprised, yet pleased, that you have chosen to pursue such a path. I had not thought you to be suited for a world of old men and dusty papers.”

He grits his teeth. Don’t rise to the bait, don’t rise to the bait, don’t rise to the bait--

“I understand, as well, that though you and my daughter have,” and here her careful composition cracks, just the slightest, the tiny lift of her lips falling, “made a child together.”

Percy swallows. He figured, you know, in the abstract, that Athena would know about Junie, but hearing her say it out loud is… well, he’s just glad that Dr. Chase has always liked him. “Yes, my lady.”

“It is customary in your time to marry prior to childbirth, is it not?”

“It is.” Oh, fuck, is she going to smite him for that? “I--that is to say, we, Annabeth and I, we, um, we definitely want to get married, but, Annabeth kind of…”

He trails off. He can’t tell Athena, goddess of war, that his daughter pissed off the queen of heaven! And if he does, he definitely can’t imply that it was because she was being too stubborn!

“I know well of my daughter’s history with my father’s wife,” Athena says, smoothly. “I come to you now with an offer of peace.”

Percy straightens his back. Peace?

Raising one graceful arm, Athena turns, indicating the structure behind her. “Look upon my temple,” she intones. The white marble shines even more powerfully against the blue and red paint, intricate scenes and figures ringing the top of the columns. “In the time of Pericles, it was built to commemorate the victory of Hellas over the armies of Xerxes the Great. It was to be the shining beacon of our world, a triumph of our power and influence over the race of men.”

The race of men might have had something to say about that, he thinks to himself.

“But it was not to be,” Athena says, mournfully. “As our influence waned, so too did our temple, until its might was all but forgotten.”

Before his eyes, the paint fades away, ceilings and columns collapsing, the destruction of the Parthenon playing out in front of him.

“Some two hundred years ago,” she says, her voice taking on a darker, more dangerous tone, “a grave insult was paid to the ruins of my ancient sanctuary.” Like curtains falling on a stage, darkness swallowed up the structure, swift and impenetrable. “Many treasures were taken from my temple, stolen, by foolish, greedy men, spirited away far to the north, where they have languished in unworthy hands.”

He narrows his eyes. She can’t possibly be talking about--

Athena turns back to him, her eyes blazing, somehow twice as tall. “Retrieve my treasures,” she commands, war personified, “return the prizes of Athens to their rightful place, and I shall give you my support against my father’s wife.”

“You…” Percy leans back on his haunches, staring dumbfounded up at the goddess. “You don’t happen to mean the Parthenon Marbles, do you?”

“Yes.”

“The ones in the British Museum.”

“The same,” she says, imperious as ever.

Fantastic. “Welp,” Percy says, slapping his thighs, scrambling up. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll have to decline. Nice seeing you, by the way. I’ll tell Annabeth you stopped by.”

Her sharp gazes pierces him, full of fury. “You dare to refuse my support?”

He snorts. “When it means trying to get the UK to give the marbles back, absolutely. Do you know how stubborn they are about this?”

Lightning flashes behind her, nearly blinding him. “You will regret this,” Athena says, dark and foreboding. “You may have your father’s goodwill, but the queen of Olympus is clever and cunning, her displeasure swift and merciless.”

But Percy still shakes his head. “When Annabeth and I get married,” and it’s definitely a ‘when,’ it’s just a matter of when precisely, like after Junie can sleep through the night maybe, “I’d rather take my chances with Hera than try and untangle that particular can of olives.”

A growl, and a snap of her fingers, and Athena disappears.

With a start, Percy wakes up. Junie had gotten her chubby little hands around his nose, and had decided to pull.

“Ow, ow, Junie, hey,” he squawks, attempting to dislodge her grip from his face. “Hey, I’m awake, it’s okay.”

She laughs, illegally adorable, her grey eyes sparkling, squeezing harder.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs along with her. “You got my nose, you win.”

As if she were waiting for him to admit defeat, she lets go, clapping her pudgy toddler hands together.

“That’s right,” he picks her up, raising her above his head. “Barely sixteen months old and you already know how to take me down, don’t you? Just like your mommy.”

She smiles, waving her little fists.

Gods he loves this little monster.

Junie really is the best parts of both of them. She’s got her daddy’s hair but her mommy’s brain, quick and sharp and painfully adorable. She’s already learning to read Greek, Annabeth sitting her in her lap and sounding out vowels together, Annabeth taking her finger and tracing it over the letter shapes. This kid absorbs information like a sponge, which Percy can only assume is the natural conclusion of taking a son of Poseidon and a daughter of Athena and mixing their DNA together.

Thinking about his dream, he frowns. “What do you think, Junie,” he asks his toddler. “Should I take her up on her offer?”

The baby says nothing.

“I mean,” he tilts his head, “Greece has been trying to get the marbles back for two hundred years. UNESCO has top lawyers on this. What does Athena think I can do?”

Junie blinks at him.

“On the other hand, I do really love your mom,” he admits, “and I really want to marry her. You’d like that, right? To have your parents be married?”

There’s no way she can understand what he’s saying, but she moves her head like she’s nodding. Or maybe she does understand. She is Annabeth’s daughter after all.

Percy sighs. Dammit.

Time for a new project, he guesses.

***

Several months, a college graduation, and one relocation to Boston later, Percy growls, hurling his pencil at the wall. Mother fucker. Fuck the British Museum, fuck his tiny laptop screen, and fuck the Italian prick who decided to have the least ADHD-friendly handwriting of all time.

Why the hell is he doing this again? Like, seriously. Why in all of Hades is he, an inexperienced, snot-nosed, first year master’s student deciding to tackle the return of the fucking Parthenon marbles of all things. Like, what is wrong with him?

Roughly scrubbing his fingers through his hair, Percy stands up. He has to go for a walk, clear his head, or he might actually explode.

Then he catches a glimpse of the photo pinned to the fridge.

Percy’s mom had taken it, a candid of Percy and Annabeth and Junie on a sunny day in Central Park. There, in perfect 1080p, Junie is laughing, at what he can’t even remember, her pudgy fists yanking on Percy’s hair, while her mother and the love of his life does nothing to extricate Percy from her grip, her face screwed up so hard she had tears in her eyes.

Percy had talked a lot of shit to the goddess of war’s face, but truth be told… Hera still terrifies him a little. Which, he assumes, was her goal all along, but it would be nice to marry Annabeth without fear of something going terribly wrong--or, gods forbid, something happening to Junie. That simply was not a risk he was willing to take. Percy is content to spend the rest of his days as Annabeth’s life-partner and roommate, if it means that the queen of the heavens won’t have a reason to take out her issues on his children.

Even if the engagement ring in the back of the pantry is gathering dust.

Sunlight, wan but warm, falls in from the window, landing perfectly on his pile of open books. “I know, I know,” he growls, speaking to the air, rubbing his face so it doesn’t get stuck in a permanent glare. “I just--I just need a few minutes, okay? Let me go down the block and get a coffee or something. Two minutes, Lady Athena.”

The light fades. Percy takes that as an acquiescence, angrily scribbling a note. He’s not sure when Annabeth and Junie will be back, but even angry as he is, he doesn’t want to worry them.

Snatching up his jacket, he slams the door shut, stomping out of his apartment building and down the streets of Boston. He must be accidentally doing his wolf stare, because people are practically flinging themselves out of his path as he hurtles down the sidewalk. Literally--some girl is walking her husky, and the poor dog actually whimpers, cowering as Percy rounds the corner.

Coming to a stop, Percy slaps his hands over his face, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath.

He might be in over his head a little.

Sighing, he looks to his right. He’s standing outside of a Starbucks.

Percy doesn’t drink coffee, Annabeth does. And he knows exactly how much of a coffee snob his girlfriend is. Starbucks? Overpriced, overrated, over-sweetened garbage.

He pushes the door open, sliding up to the counter. “I’ll take a… iced mocha, I guess,” he says. “Large.”

“No problem,” chirps the barista. “I’ll have that out for you in a minute.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

One thing Starbucks does have going for it, though, are really good napkins for doodling.

Slumping down in his uncomfortable metal chair, elbows resting on the hard, faux-wood table, Percy takes out his pen, and doodles aimlessly on the brown napkins. No, not that pen. Just because it can write doesn’t mean that Percy wants to risk slicing his face open every time he has a stray idea. Completely out of the blue, Annabeth had gotten him a nice set of pens, and ever since then, Percy always keeps one on him. Now, if he could just remember to use the little notebook she had gotten him, too.

Percy is not an artist by any stretch of the imagination. He doesn’t have an image in mind, just lets his pen move, drawing endless chains of triangles and stars, nebulous shapes which form themselves into Greek letters. After he catches himself writing γλαυκῶπις for the eighth time in a row, he sighs, dropping his pen, and picks up the cup, taking a sip.

Yuck. At least the chocolate outweighs the coffee taste a little.

Gods, and their cups are always, like, drenched from condensation--not that Percy can feel it, but there’s practically a whole other drink on the outside of the plastic, dripping all over Percy’s pile of doodle napkins. That must be why they give out so many.

Grumbling, he mops up the mess, ink smudged into a blue-brown slurry.

He stops.

He squints at one of his doodles.

Not that anyone else could tell, but Percy had apparently been trying to recreate the signature of Ottoman sultan Selim III, the guy who had supposedly authorized the Earl of Elgin to take the Parthenon Marbles. Percy had been staring at copies of his signature all damn day, trying to tell if it had been forged or copied, but classical Arabic was just so far beyond anything he could even begin to wrap his head around. It was gorgeous work, but even looking at it made Percy’s eyes swim.

This particular doodle is not his best attempt. It looks nothing like the signature. It’s smudged, blotchy, but in a way that’s… weirdly familiar.

Snatching the napkin up, Percy bolts from the Starbucks, leaving his mocha behind.

Taking the steps of his apartment building two at a time, he bursts into his kitchen. His set up is exactly how he left it, books spread out all over the table, laptop shut and laid askew, the dry, half-eaten remains of his morning muffin on a plate on top of his encyclopedia of illuminated manuscripts--except for one book, the one on Ottoman history of the nineteenth century. It’s been opened, its pages facing the door, in the exact opposite direction of all the other books.

“Hello?” he calls into the apartment. “Anyone home?”

No response.

Percy approaches the table.

From the pages, Selim III stares at him, his portrait rendered in black and white, sitting just above a figure of his signature, his tughra.

Percy picks up the book, squinting.

The signature is crisp, clean, a work of art all by itself.

He looks at his napkin drawing. Blurry and smudged.

Opening his laptop, he pulls up the scans of the documents in the British museum, zooms in on the letter’s seal.

Blurry and smudged.

Percy stares.

It… can’t be that simple, can it?

In a daze, he fires an email off to his new grad advisor. Hopefully he won’t mind Percy sticking his nose in where he doesn’t belong. Hey Dr. T--was looking at the Parthenon marbles docs in the BM (don’t ask) and I noticed this weird smudge on the tughra. Lazy scribe, maybe?

And he closes his computer.

Later that night, while he puts Junie to bed, he gets a response. not sure. sent it to a colleague for a closer look.

He can’t even be bothered to really think about it though, not with Junie looking up at him with Annabeth’s eyes, and asking for another book. “Alright, kiddo,” he acquiesces, settling in beside her. All her story books are in ancient Greek, and at age two, she’s starting to recognize the letters. “Which one are you thinking?”

“Daw-fins, daddy,” she says, smiling.

“Dolphins, eh? Getting Mr. D on your side early, I see. As smart as mommy.” He leans down and kisses her forehead before he starts to read her the story of the sailors and their sudden dolphin madness.

***

“Huh,” Percy says to himself a few weeks later, as he and Annabeth are chilling on the couch, watching some Netflix.

His advisor has forwarded him an article from the BBC (New evidence suggests Elgin documents to be forgeries) with an accompanying note: Amazing catch!

“What is it?” Annabeth asks, nudging him with her elbow--a feat, since she also has an armful of a squirmy Junie to deal with.

“Update in the Parthenon marbles thing.”

That gets her attention. Anything Parthenon-related does. “Really?”

He shows her his phone.

Her eyes go wide as saucers. “Damn.”

“Yep.” He doesn’t realize he’s smiling until he feels his lips pulling at the sides of his mouth.

“My mom is probably your biggest fan right now.”

He starts. “What did you say?”

Turning back to the TV, she still manages to cast him a weird look. “I said, my mom will probably love you for this.”

A beat, then Percy practically somersaults over the couch, darting into the kitchen. Wrenching open the pantry door, he shoves his hand behind their collection of flours, fingers grasping for--

“If you’re looking for any more sacrificial cookies,” Annabeth calls after him, “we burned them all when Junie got a cold.”

“Remind me to make some more,” says Percy, pulling out his prize. It’s a little dusty, streaks of flour clinging to the blue velvet. “I have a feeling we’ll need them.”

“Oh yeah?” She chuckles. “What, did Olympus put in a special order?”

Percy slides back down next to her, ring hidden in his closed fist. “Can I have the baby for a sec?”

Eyes fixed to the screen, Annabeth passes her over. Junie’s hands automatically reach for his nose, ready to grab, but Percy places the ring in her grasp instead, kissing her forehead. “Hey, babe?” he asks Annabeth, handing her back. “I think our daughter has something for you.”

Annabeth takes her without a second glance.

Then she does take a second glance.

Ring closed in her pudgy toddler fist, Junie holds it out to her.

Annabeth gapes.

“So,” Percy says, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “quick confession: I wasn’t just working on the marbles for fun.”

Annabeth just stares. Junie babbles.

“Your mom told me that if I helped get the marbles back, she’d back us against Hera if we ever got married. So…” He trails off, waiting for her response. As close as he is, he can see the tears start to well up in her eyes--a good sign. “Shall we?” he prompts.

“Oh thank all the gods.” Annabeth is crying, because she's Annabeth. And because she's Annabeth, she also wastes no time in transferring Junie to her other side, and holding out her hand so Percy can slide the ring on her finger. “I was so worried I'd have to have Chase on my Masters’ diploma, too.”

Percy is making sauce when his phone lights up. He hits speaker. “Hey.”

“Hey man,” comes the tinny voice of Magnus. “Sorry I missed your call earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Percy says, “I figured you were dying or something.”

Magnus’ eye roll is almost palpable. “Very funny. What’s up?”

Bringing the spoon to his lips, he blows on it, taking a taste, before reaching for the salt. Needs way more. “Do you happen to have any Varangian guards in Hotel Valhalla?”

“Varangian guards? Uh, maybe. Probably. Why?”

“I’m doing a thing on the attempted reconquest of Sicily,” he says, lowering the heat a little to a simmer, “and I’m having some trouble piecing together the Battle of Montemaggiore. Know anyone who was in it?”

Magnus hums. “I’ll ask around. Anyone in particular you’re looking for?”

Rifling through their little spice cabinet, he makes a mental note to get a new thing of hot sauce, tipping the rest of it into the pot. “If you have anyone who fought under Harald Hardrada, that would be great.”

“Hardrada? I’m pretty sure he lives on the fifth floor.”

Percy nearly drops the bottle. “No shit?”

“Big dude, long mustache, writes poetry?”

“Yes!” He picks up the phone, grinning from ear to ear. “Do you think I could come up and talk to him sometime?”

“Sure, but I thought you were doing something on Homer’s identity?”

He groans. “Backburnered for now until she stops driving me crazy.” No matter how many times Percy tells her, he can’t just drop the “Homer was actually an Egyptian woman” bomb without some serious evidence backing that up. And forgery is not one of his strong suits. Hence the need for a different topic for the time being.

“Has everyone ever told you your life is weird?”

“No, why do you ask?”

His phone suddenly vibrates, shocking him so badly he nearly drops it into the saucepan. Almost home, texts the love of his life, a shot of serotonin directly into his bloodstream. V hungry

“Sorry, Magnus, but I gotta run. Thanks for your help.”

“No problem. Say hi to my cousin for me.”

“Can do.”

“And make sure you pick a date soon! Sam needs to know so she can schedule her flight home.”

“Soon as I can.” You know, when his brain isn’t melting from grading undergrad papers. And making sure Annabeth and Junie are fed. And that Annabeth doesn’t lose herself in graduate school. And finding Junie a new preschool after she destroyed a classroom last month because of a monster. His toddler is a badass. But he’s a little worried she’s gonna follow Mommy and Daddy’s example as far as school goes.

Sometimes, he thinks that their wedding just won’t ever happen. With Athena on board, he figured it would happen sooner or later, but time just… keeps getting away from them. Which isn’t the end of the world. A lifetime at Annabeth’s side is all he really needs, Mrs. Jackson or no. But he’s seen the silver fabric she weaved for her wedding dress. It would be a shame for all that hard work to go to waste.

And, yeah, he wants to see his little Junie dancing down the aisle flinging seaweed before her mother. He wants his mom to cry a little and he wants all his friends to be there to celebrate with them. Is that so much to ask?

Speaking of his two favorite girls--”We’re home!” Annabeth calls from the hallway. “Junie, go say hi to daddy!”

Her bare feet slapping against the floor, his daughter comes toddling in, making a beeline for him. “Hey, kiddo,” Percy says, scooping her up. “How’s my best girl?”

“She’s just fine, thanks,” Annabeth says, setting her work bag down on the table. “Tell me I don’t have to wait for dinner--Margie kept me for the entirety of my lunch break, and I am starving.”

“Just gotta make a salad and we should be good to go.” But he makes no move to finish chopping vegetables, entirely too enraptured with the way Junie smiles when Percy sticks his tongue out at her. “Let me guess,” he says. “Does my best girl want some olives?”

“Peas,” Junie says.

“Oh, you want peas instead?”

She giggles, waving her arms. “Elaia, daddy!”

“Fine,” and he kisses her nose. “Extra olives for you.”

“Chip off the old block,” Annabeth says.

Handing her back to her mother, Percy sighs. “When am I going to get a kid who likes anchovies?”

“I’m doing my best here, okay?”

***

Hardrada is… not what he expected.

“Reputation isn’t that bad.” Hardrada is saying. “The production isn’t what it should be, but lots of her lyrics are still on point.”

“The production ruins it,” Percy insists. “And as a follow up to 1989? It's just bad.”

“And what about Lover?”

“What about Lover?”

“You can’t argue with the genius of that one.”

“It is terribly inconsistent,” Percy shoots back. “Yeah, ‘The Archer’ and ‘Daylight’ and ‘Miss Americana’ are sublime, but ‘ME!’? Come on!”

“Are you one of those people who thinks she peaked at Red?”

“Red is a bop from start to finish,” Percy fires back. “But she definitely peaked at folklore.”

“Thinking she peaked at folklore is just pedestrian when ‘tis the damn season’ exists!” Hardrada yells, drawing his axe, which is then promptly flung over Percy’s head.

As the only mortal in a room full of armed, excitable, undead Taylor Swift stans, Percy beats a hasty exit, Magnus and Jason covering him as he flees, because they’re just so thoughtful like that. Percy’s pretty sure he saw Magnus take an arrow to the knee, going down in a heap, before he shuts the door to the hotel, finding himself in a Forever 21.

Looking over his notes later as he gets back to his apartment in the North End, he frowns. They had spent… approximately twenty minutes talking about Sicily before getting solidly off track. Who knew an eleventh century viking would have such intense feelings about pop music?

And now he’s singing “seven” to himself as he unlocks the apartment door, because it's a good song, and because it made him think of Annabeth. And he always wants to think of Annabeth.

“Hey, babe,” he calls into the apartment, toeing off his shoes. “I’m back!”

He gets no response.

Percy looks up, confused. “Annabeth?”

“In the bathroom,” he hears, faintly.

“Everything okay?”

“Yep! Totally fine!” she says, unconvincingly.

“Alright,” he calls back. “Let me know if you need something.”

Moving Junie’s toys out of the way, he drops down onto the couch, grabbing his laptop. Hopefully he can make some sort of sense of the… notes… that he got from Hardrada. Though he’s probably going to have to trek out to Beacon Hill again, which, while not really out of his way, does mean he has to hike a bit from the Park Street station through the Commons, which makes him super sweaty and out of breath. It’s just embarrassing, walking into a hotel full of the greatest warriors of Valhalla, and Percy can barely handle a hill.

However, he’s not so out of practice that he can’t sense Annabeth coming up behind him. “You good?”

“What do you think about getting married by the end of the month?”

“Sure,” he says, pecking at his computer. Damn autocorrect ruining all the Norse names. He keeps forgetting to download the right language package he needs. “But I thought you wanted to wait until after you turned in your portfolio?”

“Well… I might not be able to fit in my dress if we wait much longer.”

That gets his attention.

Percy turns around, slowly. Annabeth is grinning, holding a thin little piece of plastic with a circle on the end. She wiggles it.

“Is that…?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.”

Her smile falls. “Are you mad?”

“What? No!” Percy slides his computer off his lap, twisting around to face her, up on his knees. “No, no, not at all. I’m not mad.” She slings her arms around his neck, pregnancy test warm against his skin. “I just…”

Eyes warm, she looks into his, unafraid. “What is it?”

“It’s…” It’s silly, is what it is. But this is Annabeth. If he can’t tell her, who can he tell? “I just feel bad that I’ve gotten you pregnant twice before getting married.”

“Well, at least I’m not nineteen this time,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “But maybe we wouldn’t have this problem if you weren’t such a horndog.”

Percy snorts. “Me? What about you, Annabeth ‘3 AM anal before my first lecture’ Chase.”

“Jackson,” she corrects.

“Huh?”

“It’s Annabeth ‘3 AM anal before your first lecture’ Jackson.”

Grinning, he presses his mouth to hers. After all this time, she still smells like lemons, her lips soft and warm. “Not yet it’s not.”

“Then let’s make it happen.”

And, well, Percy can’t think of a better plan.

Jamie hisses. “Fuuuuuck,” she whispers, the sound dropping like a stone in the dead lecture hall. “Goddamn shit fuck ass.”

And the worst part is, she’d actually spent a lot of time preparing for her Latin midterm. She’d made flashcards, she’d drilled noun endings, she’d even slept with the textbook under her pillow for fuck’s sake.

Typical--the moment she sits down to take the test, it all goes out the window.

“Legistne carmen longum de Troiano,” she reads under her breath, as though saying it out loud will unlock some hidden secrets of the cosmos.

Nope. Nothing. The multiple choices remain as inscrutable as ever.

“Psst.”

Jamie looks up.

There’s a four year old staring at her.

“Hi,” Jamie says.

“Hi,” says the four year old. Junie, her name is, she thinks.

Mr. Jackson, Jamie’s Latin TA, will bring his kids to class with him sometimes--his wife works full time, and Jamie guesses that they can’t afford a babysitter. She’s a cute kid, quiet, usually sitting in the corner of the lecture hall, drawing or even knitting, sometimes with her little sister playing with toy ships next to her.

Now, she’s still staring at her. “What’s up?” Jamie asks.

“Bello,” says Junie.

Jamie blinks. “Sorry?”

“Legistne carmen longum de bello Troiano.”

She squints down at her test sheet, attempting to visualize her flash cards. That’s… “Bello” is the right answer.

The fuck? The fucking four year old can speak Latin? “Thanks,” she whispers.

Junie beams at her.

Darting her eyes to the front of the lecture hall, Jamie spies her professor, Buck, completely conked out at his desk, his chest rising and falling with his snores. Percy is nowhere to be seen, his laptop open at his chair. “What’s the next one?” Jamie turns her paper so that Junie can see better.

“Pluto Proserpinam infelicem cepit,” she announces, perfectly accented.

Jamie points to the one after that.

“Rex qui pontem fecit erat Ancus Martius.”

“Awesome.”

The door to the lecture hall opens. Jamie whips around in her seat, startled, and sees her TA, walking down the steps. From the corner of her eye, Junie disappears, booking it to her dad, who scoops her up without missing a beat. “Hey kiddo,” he murmurs, smiling crookedly. “Were you bothering my students?” Then he glances at Jamie. “Sorry about that--hope she wasn’t too annoying.”

But Jamie shakes her head. “It’s fine.” Dammit.

Still smiling, Percy makes his way back down to his seat. Junie grins at her over his shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around her dad’s neck.

At the beginning of the semester, Professor Buck had droned on and on about Mr. Jackson, about how he was one of the best up-and-coming classics scholars in the world, how he could have had his pick of PhD programs, and how NYU was lucky to have him. He got first pick of assistantships this semester, apparently, but had volunteered to teach Latin 1001, and they should all be grateful, because he had done some beautiful new translation of Virgil for his Master’s thesis, and they were all going to learn a lot from him.

Turning back to her exam, Jamie snorts. Of course a guy like that would have a kid who could speak perfect Latin.

She really should have just stuck with German instead.

#my fic #pjo #percabeth #the rivalry ends here #perseannabeth #darkmagyk #percy should be a classics major and here's why #the percy major for the stem hating author #also i feel like i have to say:#1) classics conferences are not like that #2) if only it were that easy to get the bm to return looted antiquities 🙄#pjo fic #percabeth fic #percy jackson

731 notes · View notes