With Percy and Annabeth being such a hot dad and a hot mom, they must have attracted some attention, right? Maybe we can see a bit of jealousy in action? And maybe the percababies being confused like "why is everyone trying to talk to mommy and daddy?"
Introvert!Percy agenda.
~
Percy didn't know how to be more clear about the fact that he wasn't interested. Hell, even if he was, it was obviously not the time. He had a two-year-old in the swing, an infant strapped to his chest, and an eye on two other maniacs currently chasing each other around the jungle gym playing rounds of capture the flag.
Maybe it was his fault. When Charlotte started talking to him a few weeks ago, they were just sharing some parenting woes, the struggle of having multiple under five, and that sort of thing. He felt bad for her, a single mom in the city. He had tried to be comforting, telling her about his life growing up with his mom in New York and all of that.
Percy thought he'd made a friend. Now, it seemed to be ... growing. Well, not growing for him, but for her. The laughing, the light touches, the occasional very pointed question about how things were going with him and his wife.
"I never see her around," Charlotte said casually as she pushed her son in the swing next to Olivia.
"Daddy, higher!" Olivia demanded.
Percy obliged.
"She's here on the weekends," Percy explained, "but she's an architect. I can handle the after school hours on my own."
"You're a good dad," she said.
"Thanks," Percy said back. He tried to figure out how to return the compliment without leading her on. "You're doing a great job too."
She seemed to genuinely appreciate that, which Percy was grateful for. He did mean it. He just didn't want to become her son's step-dad any time soon.
Percy checked his watch and then called over to his campers: "Sophia! Nella! Five minute warning!"
He could hear their whine from across the playground and Charlotte laughed.
"Well, I guess I'll see you next week," Charlotte said.
Before Percy could say something casual back, Sophia crashed into his leg.
"Daddy, if we leave now, can we get McDonald's?" She asked.
"That's not how this works," Percy told her, steadying Rosie on his chest while trying to meet Olivia's increasing demands to go higher. "You're down to three minutes."
"But I still haven't found Nella's flag!"
"Well, you better get moving," Percy told her. Sophia took off running again, and Percy smiled, hoping it would be an easy bedtime night tonight.
"They're cute kids," Charlotte said.
"Yeah, they're all so much like their mom," Percy said fondly. Charlotte didn't reply to that.
"It's over here!" Nella said, running up to Percy again, Sophia behind her.
Nella ran to the other side and revealed she had stuck her flag (a mini pride flag Uncle Nico had given them last June) in Rosie's baby fist, where she had dutifully held it for the last ten minutes.
"Daddy, that's not fair! She's not allowed to have you and Rosie on her team!"
"Daddy, higher!"
"Daddy, Daddy, before we leave, I have to go potty."
"Me too!"
"Me three!"
"Buwwbuaaahh." The last one was Rosie, who was starting to discover a whole host of noises she could make.
"Seems like you've got a lot to handle," Charlotte said.
Percy stopped Livy's swing and lifted her out before she peed all over it.
"It's nothing," he said, before walking all the girls to the park bathroom. It was gross and out of toilet paper, but Percy always came prepared with his own these days. He'd learned enough since Sophia was born.
~
The client meeting had turned into happy hour drinks, which was turning into Annabeth's nightmare. The firm liked to schmooze these important men, and these important men tended to get too close to her after a martini or two.
Tonight was no exception.
"So, what do you like to do on the weekends?" Jeff asked her.
Annabeth fiddled with the stem of her martini glass, hoping this conversation didn't end with her choosing between her career and killing the man. "I'm pretty boring these days. I just spend time with family."
"Ah, don't tell me, your parents are my age -" Fred was probably pretty close, "-and they need around-the-clock care?"
His jabs at his own age were charming enough that on another night, on another day, Annabeth might have playfully flirted to close a deal. But tonight she was watching the clock tick down. She needed to pump soon, and she didn't want to do it in the restaurant bathroom. Or, better, she could get home soon and just feed her baby.
"No, no, I'm a mom," she told him.
He looked at her. "At your age? You're what? Nineteen."
Annabeth laughed politely while her soul vomited. "I won't tell you the truth there, but I do need to get home," she tried as she slid her chair back and looked around for her boss. She had four tiny Percy's and one big one at home waiting for her.
She caught her boss's eye and nodded towards the door as if to ask to leave. She appreciated her boss enough, but she was tired of having one. It was past time she was partner of her own firm.
Her boss was at her side in a moment. "So, Jeff, what do you think of our Annabeth?"
"It's a shame she has to part ways with us so soon," Jeff lamented.
"Well, don't worry, she comes through when it counts," her boss said, before patting her on the back and letting her head towards the door.
Carrie caught up to her as she made her way out of the dark bar and into the early-spring dusk. "How bad did you want to put that man in the hospital?" She asked.
"I'm just glad he didn't put his hand on my knee," Annabeth said.
Carried hailed them a cab. Annabeth tried to protest that the subway wasn't far, but her friend just pushed her in. Behind the privacy of the closed cab door, Carrie opened her personal computer and the two kept collaborating on their plans for their own firm. The sooner she could get away from these men, the better.
~
"That woman in the park keeps hitting on me," Percy told her as they got ready for bed.
"I had a client ask me if I was nineteen today," Annabeth said.
"You win," Percy said. He flopped down on the bed before leaning over to turn the volume up on Rosie's baby monitor.
"Usually telling them I have kids gets them to leave me alone," she said, crawling in next to him. "Not this time."
"Having kids makes me more desirable," Percy said.
"Well, yeah of course, you're a man. A good dad is like, the hottest thing. A good mom is just what's expected." Annabeth rolled over and rested her head on his chest, and she felt Percy kiss her hair.
"Got any ideas on how to fix this problem?" Percy asked.
"Well, we could try literally never being apart, but as appealing as that is, I don't think it'll work in the long-term," Annabeth said.
"Not unless you get way better at Latin, or I get way better at calculus," he agreed.
"We could always try just not being hot," she said. "I mean, or you could try being a dead-beat-dad but -"
"I'd rather just not be hot," Percy agreed.
"Same."
There was a long moment of silence.
"Sorry, I can't think of a single way to make you not hot," Percy said.
"Yeah, I've got nothing on your end too. I think a mustache might do something, but it might also grow on me if you tried it," Annabeth said.
"Actually, I'm pretty sure my mustache grows on me," Percy said.
She laughed despite herself. "I guess you could try telling more jokes. That might put people off."
"Nah, people love my jokes."
"Name five people who like your jokes," she challenged.
"You, as proven by your laugh just now. And then Sophia, Nella, Livy, and Rosie."
"Rosie doesn't count, she's too little."
"Estelle then."
"Fine, you're right, I set the bar too low," Annabeth said. "I guess we are just doomed to be hot."
"Tragic," he agreed.
They were quite for a moment. Annabeth tilted her head and gaze up towards him and saw him looking down at her. They both looked towards the baby monitor and saw Olivia and Rosie both fast asleep. Then they looked at each other, more conspiratorial than before.
Annabeth jumped out of bed to lock their door as Percy shut off the light on the nightstand and pulled the covers down. By the time Annabeth was back in bed, her shirt was somewhere on the floor and his pants were bunched up at the bottom of the bed.
Days after the solar storm, Carlos and TK spend another night under the stars.
*
Basically, a re-do of the 1x02 disaster dinner, taking place just after 1x10.
4.1K | Also on AO3
——————
Carlos can’t help but to let out a deep sigh as soon as he steps foot into his apartment. There’s a stillness to the space, a quiet that comforts him. It’s been so hard for him to find that kind of peace in the past two weeks; between the shooting, the lack of sleep from the fallout of the shooting, the solar storm, and the additional work following the solar storm, he feels like he hasn’t had a moment alone to catch his breath. It’s making him feel off-balance, like he hasn’t been able to fully adjust to everything going on around him.
So, he takes a shower, and it helps. He can feel waves of tension flowing off him as he stands under the hot water. He breathes deeply, taking in the heat, cleansing his lungs. He massages his eyelids, his neck and shoulders, his arms, driving away the tightness that he’s felt building. It’s relaxing, and he stays under the shower head much longer than he planned to, swaying in and out of full consciousness.
What feels like an hour later, he returns to his kitchen, opening the fridge to see what he can pull together to eat. He’s much calmer than before, but there’s still something off about his apartment. He looks around the room, trying to spot what might be making him feel on-edge, but nothing looks out of place. He can’t pinpoint what it is, but he feels like something’s missing.
He’s staring off into space, brows furrowed in thought, when his phone buzzes on the counter next to him. The name on the screen brings a sudden smile to his face, one that drives his current concerns to the back of his mind.
Wanna come over?
His eyebrows raise slightly in surprise; in the many months that he has known TK, the man has never invited him over to his place. Sure, their moment on top of his Camaro only two nights ago seemed to imply that they might be moving in a different direction, but still... This feels big, in a way, and Carlos is ashamed to admit it, but he didn’t think TK would be taking big swings this soon.
His delay in responding becomes obvious when his phone buzzes again in his hand.
I miss you.
His eyebrows raise even higher, this time accompanied by a soft smile. It’s not that TK has been constantly emotionally distant, but he’s not usually this forthcoming either, especially through text. Carlos huffs out a laugh, thinking about how it’s only been a couple of days since they had some alone time, but how much he has also missed his… whatever they are now. And since Carlos has never really been one to hide his true feelings, he doesn’t hesitate to tell TK that.
I’ve missed you too. Be there in 20 minutes, that okay?
20 mins is perfect! No speeding, Officer Reyes ;)
Fondly, Carlos rolls his eyes, dropping his phone on the counter and moving towards his bedroom. If he’s going to see TK, he’s going to need to wear something other than his faded sweatpants.
--------
Eighteen minutes later, he’s pulling up outside the Strand house, tapping his fingers nervously on the steering wheel as he comes to a stop. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling anxious; he’s known TK for months now, and he’s seen a lot of different sides of the man that he’s come to care for deeply. For some reason, this invitation feels like a turning point for them, and the pressure of what that could mean causes him to rub at his forehead, trying to lessen the stress he feels building there. He just really wants this to work out, probably more than he’s ever wanted anything, if he’s being honest.
Shaking himself, he gets out of the car and moves up the front path towards the house, noting the absence of Captain Strand’s truck in the drive. With a deep breath, he raises his hand to the door and gently knocks.
It must be only seconds later when the door opens, almost as if TK was standing there in wait. Their eyes immediately link, a gentle softness that pulls a breath from Carlos. He just saw TK earlier this week, but that doesn’t stop Carlos from feeling like he’s seeing him for the very first time; it happens more often than he will probably ever admit.
“Hi,” TK says gently, cutting through the silence. Carlos feels his smile widen slightly in response. He takes a chance and steps through the doorway, sliding his arms underneath TK’s to wrap him in a hug, mindful of his shoulder. TK tenses in surprise before huffing out a laugh, wrapping his own arms around Carlos’s shoulders.
“Hi,” Carlos replies, pressing his face into TK’s neck. He’s quickly discovered that it’s his favorite place to be.
“Hi,” TK breathes out, nuzzling Carlos behind the ear. He shivers in response, feeling a little ridiculous, but he kind of doesn’t ever want this moment to end. Before he can say anything further, his stomach lets out a small groan and he feels TK begin to shake with laughter as he pulls away slightly, giving him an amused look. “Either you're hungry, or I’m awakening some very strange parts of your body.”
Carlos rolls his eyes. “You awaken every part of my body, cariño” he says, knowing full-well how stupid it sounds as it comes out, but he also notices how TK’s eyes darken just a bit, so he can’t be too embarrassed. “I am a bit hungry, though,” he admits. “Work was a little crazy and I skipped lunch.”
TK grins, letting out a small noise of understanding. “I just may be able to help you with that,” he says, grabbing Carlos’s hand and turning to lead him further into the house. He follows, gripping tightly to TK’s hand as he looks around. The decor doesn’t surprise him — it’s very similar to the remodeled firehouse, and he recognizes Captain Strand’s commitment to his personal style. It makes Carlos smile, happy to see a little further into TK’s world.
TK leads him to the back of the house and through the sliding patio door into the backyard, where he stops abruptly, Carlos jerking quickly to the side to avoid running into him. He looks out at the small, fenced-in area, and can’t help the sharp breath that steals into his chest.
The yard features a picnic table, currently ladened with a full dining setup. He can see multiple candles at both ends, dishes of food next to those, and two plates at the center. Near the middle, he sees two champagne flutes and an ice bucket with two bottles sweating in the mild Texas heat. Carlos’s gaze shifts upward, above the table, eyeing the string lights that criss-cross over the table, twinkling softly. He grips TK’s hand tightly, intertwining their fingers as he feels himself vibrate with overwhelming emotion. TK never fails to surprise him, and it knocks him back every time.
He thinks the other man understands, as TK rises up to press a soft kiss to his cheek before dragging them closer to the table. Carlos allows TK to drop his hand as he reaches for one of the bottles and pours two glasses of sparkling golden liquid for them. He’s confused as he silently watches, taking his glass with a small shake of his head, TK clinking them together and raising his eyebrow to indicate that Carlos should take a drink.
The minute the liquid hits his tongue, Carlos recognizes the definite lack of alcohol. “It’s grape juice,” TK confirms, a small blush on his face as he takes a sip. “I know it’s kind of childish, I just wanted to recreate the—”
Carlos cuts him off with a kiss, smiling as TK lets out a small gasp, causing Carlos to push closer, parting his lips. TK does the same and as their tongues brush against one another, Carlos can faintly taste the juice, but mostly he just tastes TK. It’s kind of his favorite taste in the world.
They get lost in each other for a moment, Carlos reaching up to grip the back of TK’s head when he senses TK’s hand on his waist. He feels like he could spend the rest of his life kissing TK and never regret a single second of it, but at some point they both need air. “I really like grape juice,” Carlos says when their lips part, pressing forward to rest his forehead against TK’s. He watches as TK’s lips raise into a soft smile.
“I hope it goes well with dinner, which I have to be honest with you, I did not make” TK says, pulling back to gesture down at the table. Carlos follows his lead, moving to sit as TK stands across from him, grabbing his plate to begin serving the food. Carlos recognizes the baked red snapper, and his heart immediately swells in his chest. “First big thing to know about me: I burn water. You do not want me to cook for you.”
Carlos lets out a sound of disagreement, staring up at TK as he moves along the table filling the plate with salad and bread and asparagus. “I’d be happy to give you some lessons,” he says. “I love to cook.”
“I remember,” TK says, a slight grimace on his face. He doesn’t let it linger though. “You really think you could teach me a thing or two? People have tried before.”
“I think we could at least get you past the ‘burning water’ phase,” Carlos jokes as his plate is placed in front of him. “This all looks incredible, TK. All of it,” he says, gesturing to the entire set-up.
TK blushes down at his plate before reaching for his glass, raising it to hover between them. “To surviving a solar storm,” he toasts, and Carlos responds, taking another sip. “Speaking of, how’s work? You said today was crazy?”
Carlos nods, diving into his day as they begin to eat. It’s easy, comfortable conversation, with TK responding with his own insight into what’s going on at the firehouse. He may not be back at work, but his team texts him constantly in their group chat, and he’s stopped by to hang out with Buttercup a couple of times. When TK speaks, Carlos can’t help but stare openly, watching as his bright green eyes reflect the twinkling lights above them. The thought of TK is usually enough to make his brain short-circuit, but seeing him here, so relaxed and happy as he shares a story about Marjan and Mateo and a prank gone wrong, Carlos can’t help but to admire his radiance. He’s unlike anyone that Carlos has ever seen.
“This was delicious, TK, thank you,” he says, tossing a napkin onto his now-empty plate. “It means a lot that you did all of this for me.”
TK, who at this point is completely relaxed, stares across the table at him, tapping his fingers along the wood grain. For a minute, they just sit in silence, staring at one another, happy to be sharing time and space. Carlos watches as TK rises and moves around the table, leaning down to press a short kiss to his lips. He grabs his hand and moves away, pulling Carlos up from the table. “Come sit with me.”
Carlos happily follows TK over to a garden bench off to the side that he had missed when he first entered the yard. They sit side-by-side, TK immediately folding himself into his side as Carlos puts an arm around his shoulder, careful of his healing injury. TK grips the hand in his lap, caressing his fingers, almost as if he’s distracting himself. Carlos waits with bated breath, unsure what he might be building to say.
“I used to dream about moments like this,” TK says into the silence. Carlos glances down at him, but TK is looking off towards the table and the twinkling lights, lost in thought. “My high school friends used to laugh at me all the time about my high aspirations for romance.
“I think I blame my parents. They may have gotten a divorce, but the minute I heard how they met, I knew soulmates were real. Something about the idea of a young firefighter and a stressed-out law student meeting because she forgot about her dinner in the oven while studying and nearly burned her building down, it just screamed everlasting love to me.”
Carlos huffs out a laugh, somewhat in response to the story but mostly in response to what TK is doing; he’s never openly shared so much personal information before. He can feel TK’s smile against his chest.
“Even when they separated, I convinced myself that it wasn’t because they didn’t love each other, it was just because the world wasn’t built to support their love story. And then, years later, when I realized I was gay, I couldn’t help but wonder if the world was built to support mine.”
Carlos grips TK’s hand in his own, feeling the pain of his words. He remembers feeling similarly when he discovered the truth about himself. It’s a feeling that he knows will probably never go away completely.
“But my parents were completely supportive,” TK continues. “I never doubted their love for me, not about that. So, with all of that support surrounding me, I kept believing in love. In the fairytale of it all, the earth-shattering romance. Even when things got harder, I still believed in that dream.
“I dated a lot in college. I put myself out there, I charmed boys, I wooed them. I did everything I could to make it feel big, make it feel like that dream that I wanted. The problem is, you can’t just create a big love story out of nothing. I tried really hard to do that, too hard. Like, ‘dated a user and used with him because I thought it would bring us closer’ level of trying. Turns out, pills can help fill the gaps that you’re trying to fill with guys who don’t give a shit and dads who choose their work over you.”
Carlos can feel TK shaking, and he tightens his grip on him, learning down to press a kiss to his temple. TK turns his head just slightly, pressing his lips against Carlos’s shirt, near his rapidly beating heart. He knows it’s impossible to actually feel it against his skin, but Carlos can’t help but feel like TK has branded him.
“My addiction got bad enough that my parents couldn’t ignore it anymore. I went to a rehab place upstate the summer after my graduation. When I came back, I enrolled in the academy. I’d always wanted to be a firefighter, and Dad was happy to have me close, to watch me. It worked for a few years. I fell in love with my job, with the high that comes with saving people. I stayed away from pills, I did the casual thing with guys. It wasn’t my old dream, but it felt okay. And then I met Alex.”
TK pauses, pulling away with a sigh to lean back against the bench, looking up at the night sky. Carlos adjusts himself to accommodate the sudden change, his nerves spiking at the movement, but also at the heavy way that TK speaks the name.
“He was a nice guy,” TK says, still looking upwards. “Better than any of my college boyfriends, better than the casual hookups. He was a photographer, we met at a first responder fundraiser. He was nice to look at and we looked good together. I felt good with him.
“My dad didn’t care for him. He thought Alex was too self-centered, too interested in who he was going to be and not at all interested in where he was or who he was with. I don’t really know if that’s true. Looking back, I can see that I fell into my try-too-hard behavior from before: I planned all of our dates, I introduced him to all of my friends, I bought him nonsense gifts just because, I said ‘I love you’ first. I was always the one putting my heart out there. I didn’t see all of that then, though. I thought he was my soulmate. I thought he was my dream, and I wanted to marry him.”
TK closes his eyes, heaving out a heavy sigh. Carlos itches to hold him again, but he doesn’t know where this all is going, and he wants to respect TK’s need for space. He scoots over just a bit, pressing their sides together again, but he doesn’t reach out, choosing instead to leave his palm lying flat against his thigh. It feels like forever, but finally, TK reaches out and takes his hand again, interlocking their fingers.
“You know the rest,” he says with a sigh. “Nuclear breakup, at the dinner where I was going to propose. He had been seeing someone else for months. It’s so obvious to me now, he was always pulling away, filling his evenings with ‘work.’ There was this distance between us, and I didn’t see it. Or I didn’t want to see it. And then it all just collapsed around me, this fairytale idea of what our relationship was, and I couldn’t handle it. So I tried to fill the gaps again, and I went too far.”
Carlos shutters out a small gasp at the reminder of TK’s overdose. No matter how many times he thinks about it, he can’t get past the idea that he was this close to never meeting the man sitting next to him. He was so close to never experiencing everything that TK makes him feel and want. TK turns, his eyes full of concern, and pulls their bodies together, caressing the back of Carlos’s neck as they both breathe deeply in each other’s arms.
“You weren’t supposed to find me so soon, Carlos Reyes. When I got here, I wasn’t anything like myself. I didn’t know who I was anymore. I couldn’t feel anything, and I didn’t want to. I was so tired of trying. I was tired of losing myself to this idea of something that, clearly, I could never have.
“And then you walked up to me in that bar and I… Carlos, men like you are not supposed to exist,” TK says with a laugh. Carlos rolls his eyes, opening his mouth to speak, but TK cuts him off before he can say anything. “Don’t argue with me on this, I’m right. I’ll ask every single person in Austin, and they’ll say the same thing. Even the straight guys.
“But there you were, and I may not have wanted to feel anything, but you didn’t give me a choice. You were otherworldly. And you have to know, you’re the best partner I’ve ever had in bed.”
Carlos can feel himself blush as he turns to hide in TK’s uninjured shoulder. He hears the firefighter laugh, and feels him press his cheek against Carlos’s curls.
“I mean it! I’ve never had anyone give so much of themselves to me before. It was overwhelming, in the best way. You lit me up, Carlos. And I couldn’t stay away, even when I really wanted to.”
Carlos closes his eyes, knowing what TK’s going to say next.
“That night,” TK says, squeezing Carlos tighter as his voice stutters. “Carlos, you have to know that I have so many regrets about that night and the way I reacted, the way I treated you. I’m so sorry.”
“Ty, I know,” Carlos says, raising his head to look TK in the eye. He cups his cheek, trying to rub away the stress that he can see on TK’s face. “You’ve already apologized for that, and I forgave you.”
“I know, I know,” TK replies, covering Carlos’s hand with his own. “But let me explain, okay. It’s important to me.” When Carlos nods, he goes on. “No one, and I mean no one, that I have ever dated has done something like that for me. Cooking me a full dinner after midnight, just because you wanted to see me, talk to me, get to know me?”
“It was ridiculous, I can’t believe I did that,” Carlos huffs, shaking his head.
“It was my dream, Carlos,” TK whispers. Carlos’s eyes widen at his candor as they stare openly at one another. “That dinner was like something out of every dream that I have ever had about romance. The idea that someone would go to such lengths just to spend time with me? That they would understand my life in such a way that they wouldn’t be put off by my weird schedule? That they would light candles, and dress nicely, and serve me dinner? That was everything that I ever dreamed of, and something I had never had. And it scared the hell out of me.”
“Ty, you don’t have to be scared of me,” Carlos tries, but TK keeps going.
“I know that now,” he says, “but then? Then I didn’t want those feelings. I didn’t want the dream. The dream had hurt me, the wound felt too fresh. I didn’t want the big, romantic fairytale. I just wanted simple and easy, and I hurt you. I was selfish and I made a mess of everything, and I’ll always be sorry for that.”
Carlos pulls away then, breathing deeply as he clutches TK’s hand in his. This is so much more than he expected for this evening, and he needs a moment to process. He looks at the night sky, the stars twinkling along with the lights hanging in his periphery. He wants to tell TK that he doesn’t have to keep apologizing, but he doesn’t think that his words would be enough. He realizes now that this dinner was TK’s way of making amends for that night. It means a lot to him that he would go this far to show how much he cares, even if Carlos forgave him months ago. A gentle breeze rustles the leaves on a nearby tree in the backyard, and Carlos gets an idea.
He rises from the bench, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and opening his music app. He clicks play on a song, keeping the volume low as he turns back towards TK. The other man is looking up at him, his face concerned as his eyes continue to twinkle in the lights. Carlos holds out his hand. “Can I share something with you now?”
TK doesn’t hesitate before taking his hand and following Carlos to the middle of the backyard. He turns and gathers TK into his arms, pressing him close as he starts to sway to the gentle guitar music. TK seems confused at first, but he slowly allows Carlos to turn them in a slow circle.
“I’m not a dream, Ty,” Carlos speaks softly into his ear. “I’m a person, just like you. And I’m not a perfect person, as much as I try to be. I’m going to make mistakes. You’ll make mistakes. We’ll make mistakes together. We’ll fight sometimes, we’ll scare each other. It’s going to be a lot. I’m not a person who feels things casually. I’m an all-in kind of guy.”
Carlos pulls back, cupping TK’s face in his hands. His eyes are shining with tears that have yet to fall, and Carlos can’t help but press his lips to TK’s forehead in comfort.
“There are going to be more messes,” Carlos adds, staring directly into the eyes of the man that he probably already loves. “But I already know that I would rather make a million messes with you than live a mess-free life with anyone else.”
A tear falls onto TK’s cheek as he raises his hands to grip Carlos’s wrists, keeping his palms pressed against his face.
“I’d rather be scared with you than have it easy with anyone else,” TK whispers, his eyes heavy as they refuse to break contact.
Carlos feels every part of him melt as he closes the gap between them, pressing his lips to TK’s in a kiss that feels like a seal, binding them together. He can taste the salt from the other man’s tears, and he pulls him closer, wrapping him in all of the love and support that he has to give.
Later, possibly minutes or hours or days even, they break the kiss, but they don’t stop swaying in each other’s arms and, in TK’s hold, Carlos realizes that he’s finally found what he had been missing all along.
Tagged by the wonderful @p0lkadotdotdot - Thanks so much for the tag!
Avi Rye
Avi was born in Hope County sometime in 2018 and is loved by her two fathers, Sam and Nick Rye. At 16, she helps with work at Rye & Sons with her dads and often keeps them in check while getting into her own fun around the County with familiar faces.
Avi Rye is the canon daughter of Nick Rye and Sam Aileron. She was born during the events of FarCry 5 in Hope County, born from her mom Kim when she was previously married to Nick. Sam also has a younger step-daughter Carmina, who is the canon daughter of Kim and Endri that is born after the events of FarCry 5 in California with her moms.
Faceclaim: Iva Varvarchuk
Extra Info: My canon completely removed the bomb ending and New Dawn, if you happen to reblog this please do not tag as New Dawn
I just finished Mine Would Be You and I loved it so much! do you plan on writing any drabbles into Harry and Louis’ future together or know if you imagine them having kids or not?
Ahhhh, thank you!! I’m so glad you loved it 💙💚💙💚
As far as future drabbles in this universe, I don’t have any planned, but I wouldn’t rule them out entirely. You never know where inspiration will strike.
As to Harry and Louis’ future, I see them as an ultimate New York power couple without kids. They are great uncles to Liam and Zayn’s kids, and they have dogs, but having kids is not for them. They are both fully devoted to their crafts, to each other, and to the amazing life that they’ve built together in New York.
stirring things up by softestlad
rating: mature
status: complete
length: 1.8k
summary: the call went on longer than robert realised, fifteen minutes having squeaked past him. aaron must be here by now – robert pushed back into the pub and glanced around, searching for his husband, smiling when his eyes alit on him, the shadow of his beard, the soft folds of his hoodie stretched over the wide set of his chest and shoulders, nate leaning in close to talk to him. hang about.
The day after Betty’s due date, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that the baby was holding out until Thanksgiving.
She was past the cute pregnant stage of nesting: setting up the nursery, sobbing as she laid a tiny onesie over her belly, eating triple her weight in pickles because of an overwhelming craving. No, this was the nitty gritty stage of pregnancy—she was massive, her entire body ached, she had to pee every thirty seconds, and she couldn’t remember a time before the seemingly endless heartburn she was enduring. Jughead tried his best to make her comfortable, but she hadn’t been able to see her legs in weeks, and moving anywhere in her own home felt like maneuvering a bull through a china shop.
The largest issue with the baby being overdue, though, was that Betty and Jughead had volunteered to host Thanksgiving. Her expectation was that she would have had a week for recovery before inviting their family and friends into their home to see their newborn. Instead, baby Jones had its own plans.
She put both her hands on her swollen belly and leaned forward, looking down at the shifting baby pushing out against her skin. “Your time is up,” she said sternly, frowning. “Vacation is over. Check out was six days ago at 11 AM.”
Betty looked up at the sound of laughter from the doorway. Jughead was wiping off a measuring cup with a dish towel, his face soft as he looked at her. Unaccountably, tears began to well in her eyes. Her husband noticed, of course—he always noticed things like that—and when he started forward she couldn’t help it as they poured over her cheeks.
“Betts, don’t cry,” he said gently. Moving to her side, Jughead brushed his thumb over her cheek and wrapped his arms around her, setting the measuring cup on the couch at her side. She curled against him as best she could, her movement restricted by her aching back and bulging stomach. That just built her frustration and made her cry more, so Jughead hugged her even tighter. He smoothed one hand over her belly, drawing up her shirt and pressing his lips against her taut skin. “Stop making your mommy cry,” he admonished.
Hearing him refer to her as mommy always filled her heart with happiness. Jughead glanced up from her belly as her tears continued to flow, though she smiled down at him. “I love you,” she whispered. She ran her hand over his head, fingers drifting through his dark hair, wondering again if their baby would have his hair or hers. But her mind was focused more acutely on their impending dinner—the dinner she’d been planning on cooking.
Jughead kissed her belly once more and rose, picking up the measuring cup. Reluctantly, he said, “We’re out of brown sugar. Can I substitute regular sugar, or should I go get some?”
She frowned, absently running her hands over her stomach as the baby shifted in its father’s absence. It seemed like the two of them already had a bond, since the baby always pushed out a hand or a foot in response whenever Jughead touched her stomach. Mentally running over everything that needed to be cooked involving brown sugar, she said, “Have you started the sweet potatoes?”
He shook his head. “I was still working on pie filling.”
Betty shifted, starting the Herculean feat of getting up. “I’ll go get it, you need to keep going on the vegetables.”
Jughead started forward, helping her get her balance. “You can’t go by yourself, Betty. What if something happens while you’re out? I’m going with you.”
She put her hands on her lower back, trying to relieve some of the pressure, and narrowed her eyes at him. This was exactly why she was so frustrated. Betty knew he was right, but that didn’t mean she liked it. “We have people coming over in a few hours, Jug. You have to keep cooking, or nothing will be ready in time.”
He looked at her thoughtfully. Setting the cup and towel down on the kitchen counter, he slid his phone out of his pocket and began to text.
“I’ll get Dad to pick some up and come by early. Just relax, baby. I’ve got this.”
She moved herself to a closer chair. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Jughead to pull everything together, but cooking a Thanksgiving feast was beyond what he usually had to do in the kitchen. She could chop vegetables or stir something or—
Jughead deposited a book into her hands with a meaningful look. Before she could protest, he leaned down and repeated, “I’ve got this.”
Betty bit her lower lip but opened the book to her page, accepting that he wasn’t going to let her help.
A few minutes later, her father-in-law arrived with a bag of brown sugar and a massive smile. He handed his son the ingredient and crossed through the kitchen to give Betty a hug before she could struggle out of her chair. “How are you doing?” he asked, glancing down at her belly.
Betty sighed heavily. “I’m ready to meet this baby,” she said, letting some of her irritation grate out in her tone.
FP gave her a sympathetic look. “I remember, Gladys was so mad when Jug was late. I think we walked down every street in this town, trying to get things started.”
She started to push herself up. “Is that what I need to do?”
He laughed. “Let me help with dinner, and you can take Jughead hiking tomorrow. What time is your mom coming over?”
Betty glanced down at the screen of her phone. “She should be here with Polly and the twins in about an hour.”
FP’s eyebrows rose. “I’m going to help, so we should be on time. You just relax, and let us know if you need anything.”
With that, he turned back to the kitchen and began helping Jughead cut up carrots and green beans. Betty tried to focus on her book, but instead she kept glancing up at the two men working side by side. She’d seen Jughead and FP interact many times over the years, of course—so it was probably just her hormones—but Betty swiped at her cheeks in irritation as she felt herself starting to cry again.
FP elbowed Jughead a bit, nodding his head toward her. Wiping his hands on a towel, her husband left the kitchen and came to her side. “Betts, it’s okay—“ he started to say.
She interrupted with a wave of her hand. “I’m fine, it’s stupid that I’m crying anyway. I was just thinking that it’s so sweet that your dad is helping you—and maybe one day our baby will be there with you—“
He squeezed her hand, smiling. “I’m sure they will. It’s not stupid. Try to relax, though.”
Before she could respond, she heard the sound of their door opening. “FP Jones, I didn’t know that you could use a whisk,” said the voice of her mother, tinged with amusement.
With a little extra help from her mom, while Polly kept the twins amused, they managed to get the table set with all the side dishes and delicacies that went along with the holiday for their respective families. For the Jones men, that was a side of green beans with almonds that FP’s mother used to make every year. For Betty’s family, it was the sweet potato recipe she’d gotten from her mother last year when they’d hosted Thanksgiving for the first time.
They talked and laughed together well into the evening. Polly and her mom gave Betty empathetic glances across the table, helping to clear the table so that she didn’t have to ponderously lumber back and forth from the kitchen to the dining table. Before they left for the evening, Betty’s mom gave her a hug and reminded her to call if anything happened.
Betty curled up with Jughead in the couch as best she could, letting him press his ear against her belly. The baby promptly kicked his cheek, making a grin spread across his face.
“I think they waited until they got their turkey dinner,” she grumbled. “This baby already loves food as much as their daddy.”
Jughead just rubbed her belly again. The baby pressed hard in response, rolling again and making Betty shift uncomfortably. Her husband leaned up and kissed her, his lips pressing gently against hers, hand still holding her belly. “I think mommy is my favorite dish, though. You’re so beautiful, Betty. I don’t know what I did to deserve you in my life.”
She sighed happily. “You deserve every good thing in the world in your life. You’re amazing.”
In the middle of the night, Betty sat bolt upright. “Jug,” she said, shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes, blinking at her in confusion for a moment before fully awakening.
“Is it time?” he asked. Betty nodded, her heart pounding. Jughead threw aside the blankets. With a smile that lit up his whole face, he said, “Let’s go meet our baby.”
