Work Text:
Percy suppressed a fond, exasperated smile as he let Annabeth drag him through the sliding doors of Target, her right hand pulling his left one along. He struggled to keep up with her pace. Di immortales, he thought, she’s six months pregnant and still faster than me.
She donned a flowy blue sundress that stopped a few inches above her knees, golden blonde hair cascading down her shoulders in a half updo. She looked radiant. Pregnancy glow was a real thing, apparently. She had taken to wearing more loose-fitting dresses whenever they went out; she claimed they felt freeing, and he wasn’t complaining.
At home, she typically stuck to joggers, tanks, and sweaters, stealing his clothes now more than ever. He didn’t mind though. There was nothing more adorable than seeing her bundled up in one of his large hoodies, eyebrows scrunched in concentration, as she sketched a design on her tablet.
Annabeth was a little self-conscious about the changes that came with pregnancy, which were blatantly shoved into her face everytime she came across the occasional monster in public. She obviously wasn’t as quick or energized or flexible as she used to be, and taking down monsters took more time and effort than usual. Percy always worried whenever he heard about her encountering any monsters, but she had assured him she was more than capable of defending herself. A baby wasn’t going to change that. Although, as the days went by, she found herself growing increasingly tired. As much as Annabeth relished in the overwhelming sense of love she felt at thought of carrying her child, the bouts of pain and discomfort dampened her mood.
Percy, ever the supportive and loving partner, did his best to cater to her every whim and make her feel as comfortable as possible. She had never loved him more. And he had thoroughly convinced her, as he worshipped her night after night, that he adored her body no matter what it looked like. Even when she felt fatigued and lethargic, curls in disarray, loose sweats covering her form, he looked at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world. If only all men could be as unwaveringly loyal, respectful, and attentive as Percy motherfucking Jackson.
Annabeth eagerly pulled Percy into the store, speeding right by the carts, and he frantically reached out to grab at least a basket, but to no avail. She was a woman on a mission.
Nothing could get between her and her cravings (and cravings), and Percy was more than happy to comply with both. Annabeth’s cravings weren’t particularly strange, but she had developed an affinity for ice cream. Every week, he found himself picking up a new flavor. There wasn’t much on the shelves she hadn’t tried at this point. And if she didn’t like something, he was stuck finishing the rest of it. But ice cream was ice cream, so he was always up to the task. Her sudden ice cream addiction surprised him because she didn’t usually eat a lot of sweets, but if it meant snacking on a Nestle Drumstick from his freezer at midnight, who was he to complain?
They had already stopped at Costco to pick up the regular groceries―fruit, milk, vegetables, and the like―and Annabeth had already bought a pack of tropical fruit popsicles that were hopefully not melting in the car. But she insisted that they stopped by Target to gather a more assorted collection of junk food. Wow, he had really rubbed off on her. He supposed over a decade of being best friends would do that to someone.
“Whoa whoa whoa. Slow down, Wise Girl,” he told her, chuckling under his breath.
Her lips pulled into that adorable whiny pout and his heart squeezed in his chest. “Okay, okay. Just let me get a basket. One sec.” He jogged over to where the bright red baskets were stacked against a knee-high wall and picked one off the top of the stack.
“Okay, where to?” he asked, catching her hand in his, letting his finger slide over the cool metal of her ring. “Ice cream?”
The freezer section was closer, but she shook her head. “No, let’s get the other stuff first. So the ice cream melts as little as possible.” It would melt less than the ice cream currently stuffed into the trunk, regardless, but he decided not to mention that.
Annabeth wandered over to the cookie aisle and he trailed behind her like a lost puppy. She brought them to a stop in front of a variety of Oreos and stared at the shelf, gray eyes as calculating as ever, like she was analyzing a battle plan. His lips pulled up into a smile. Oreos were kind of their thing ever since they had bonded for the first time over a pack of them in the back of a zoo truck when they were twelve.
They generally stuck to the plain old Double Stuf Oreos (single stuffed was forbidden in their house) but made it a point to try some new flavors when they came out. If they were feeling particularly ambitious, they went for the Mega Stuf because no creme is too much creme. Although once, they did come across The Most Stuf Oreos and holy shit, they had an alarming amount of creme, but weren’t very bingeable.
“Which ones do you want?” he asked, as they both scanned the shelves.
“Hmm...the baby’s kind of feeling the fudge-dipped ones,” she replied after a few moments of consideration.
“The baby? Our baby told you that, specifically?”
“Yes,” she said, very seriously. He stifled a laugh.
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He reached up to grab two bags of fudge-dipped Oreos because he was almost sure one bag would not last until their next trip to the store. Her eyes drifted down to the strip of skin that was left exposed by his lifted shirt. The heat of her gaze burned across the sinful V of his hips and the hint of his abs she could see from where she was standing. He turned to her after he placed the Oreos into their basket. Unfortunately, she didn’t move her eyes away quick enough. He caught her gaze as her eyes traveled back up to his face, and he shot her that annoying troublemaker smirk.
“Watcha lookin’ at?”
“Nothing,” she replied airily, pointedly avoiding his teasing gaze.
“You sure? Cause to me, it looked like you were staring at my—”
“Nope.”
“Mhm, well I could’ve sworn you were—”
“It’s not my fault I’m, like, constantly horny,” she interrupted, annoyed, swatting his arm gently. ”It’s the pregnancy.”
He laughed loudly, unabashed. The familiar sound send a wave of warmth through her body, leaving her with a contentedness that felt like home. “I never said I minded,” he winked, ocean eyes glinting playfully.
She rolled her eyes, huffed and grabbed his arm, dragging him down the aisles. His shit-eating grin never faded. By the time they finished up in the snack aisle, their basket was overflowing with a variety of bags from Lay’s sour cream & onion to Snyder’s buffalo pretzel bites. He seriously regretted not getting a cart.
Annabeth wandered over to the wall of ice cream in the freezer section, pausing to look longingly at some snacks along the way, that Percy sighed and put in the basket with a fond roll of his eyes. But she could convince him to buy the whole damn store if she kept flashing him that cute, bright smile. She was the primary breadwinner, anyway. She could do as she pleased.
Annabeth stared at the wall of ice cream flavors and varieties, one hand lightly resting against her stomach, the other cradling her chin.
“Let me guess. Ice cream sandwiches?” Percy said, already opening the freezer to grab a box.
“No, not that kind,” she said, waving her hand dismissively.
He sighed and stepped behind her, both his arms coming around her to intertwine with her hands on her belly. He angled his head into the crook of her neck and pressed a gentle kiss there, inhaling her floral scent. “Well, which one do you want, then?”
“Mmm…” she leaned back into his embrace, eyes closed, and he held her patiently.
At her silence, he spoke up again. “Don’t fall asleep on me, Beth. Whatcha doin?” he asked, laughing softly, glancing down at her face.
“Shh…” she hushed him. Another long pause. “Chipwiches.”
“You got it,” he said, scanning the freezer for a box. “You really had to do some soul-searching for that one, huh?”
“Shut up, I was trying to listen to what my baby was telling me.”
He choked back a laugh. “Our child was telling you which ice cream he wanted?”
“Yes. He’s very picky. He wants really specific things.”
“Mhm. You sure that’s not just you?”
“Shut it, Perseus. You wouldn’t understand. You’re not the one carrying him.”
“My bad. So do all pregnant women communicate with their unborn child?” he joked.
“It’s an Athena thing,” she replied, straight-faced.
He really couldn’t tell whether or not she was joking, but decided not to ask.
“So our kid is the one that wanted all these snacks?”
“I can’t control what he wants.”
“Right. Whatever you want, baby,” he said with a fond shake of his head. She was his whole world, and especially with her going through all the effort of pregnancy, he’d be damned if he didn’t listen to everything she said.
His arms strained from the weight of the pile of snacks and ice cream boxes in the basket, the thin metal handle pressing uncomfortably into palm. He grunted with effort, switching the arm he was carrying the basket with.
“Fuck. We should’ve gotten a cart. I feel like I’m gonna drop this before we get to the checkout counter.”
“Stop being a baby. You held up the sky, I think you can handle a Target basket. Plus your biceps look great right now,” she stated, looking pointedly at the strained muscles of his arms that bulged with effort.
“Glad you’re enjoying this.”
“You exist solely for my entertainment.”
“Is that why you married me?”
“That, and you can cook. It was a no-brainer.”
She was looking innocently up at him, eyelashes fluttering, and he laughed and poked her in the side. “Whatever you say, Wise Girl. I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”
“Oh my god, stop being cute. I’m trying to make fun of you here,” she groaned
“My apologies. I’ll try to be a worse husband.”
“Thank you.” She grabbed his free hand, “Come on, we got a lot of ice cream and Netflix to get through.”
“Netflix and chill?” he asked, hopefully.
Annabeth rolled her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips, “Obviously. Anymore stupid questions, Seaweed Brain?”
Percy led them to checkout much faster after that, in high spirits. God, he loved his little family.