𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫, 𝐉𝐉 | 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

37. ottilie harrington.

He spun her around, Otto glared at him, he pressed a kiss against her forehead. "I love you." He reminded her, she smiled and he left to have a shower.

Otto tried to make sure he had time to himself, even after a few months he was still hellbent on doing as much Freddie work as he could. Although in the first month after she gave birth he didn't let her touch a nappy. And she only got to feed him when she said she wanted to.

No one - not even himself - knew what to expect from him as a father.

And to be honest the expectations weren't in his favour, but he superseded them tenfold.

He loved Freddie and Otto more than life itself. He loved them so much it hurt.

While JJ knew Otto very well, Otto also knew JJ very well. She had a note on her phone of all the things she cooked that he liked and was sure to make those as much as possible saying that she liked them. Most of them she wasn't particularly fond of.

While he knew she loved buttered toast, she knew he liked crunchy peanut butter (the cheap ones, none of the fancy shit.) And his favourite drink was fresh orange juice with ample pulp.

That night she cooked one of his favourite meals that she really did not like.

When they sat down at the table, Freddie happily asleep, he smirked at her as she pushed the food around with her fork.

"I know you hate it."

"I don't hate it. I wouldn't cook it if I hated it." That was the truth, she didn't hate it she just disliked it, strongly.

He rolled his eyes, "Take a big bite, I'm talking a full spoonful."

"I'm not a dog, I don't do what I'm told." She glared at him, she really didn't want to take a big bite, she would probably gag.

"Just admit you don't like it."

"I'm not admitting shit."

"If I didn't like it, would you cook it?"

"Probably not."

"So you don't like it."

"Fine, I don't like it. But you do, hence me cooking it. Be grateful, I'm extremely selfless."

He raised his eyebrows, at the beginning he too truly underestimated her in certain areas, but as he began to know her personally it was a different person entirely to the person she shows other people.

"What else don't you like that you cook?"

She proceeded to name several things she cooked regularly that she strongly disliked.

"Do you ever cook anything you like?"

"Yes. I have a schedule, three times a week I try something new, two times a week I do something you like and two times a week I do something I like."

"You don't cook things I don't like."

"Because I have good taste."

"You need to stop cooking things you don't like, it's ridiculous." He said, grabbing her bowl and began eating it.

"You really like that baked pasta shit." She points out.

"I know but watching you trying not to vomit looking at it while pretending to eat it but instead just pushing it around the plate is painful."

"You make trying to be selfless incredibly difficult." She grumbled standing up grabbing her glass of diet Coke and going to put more ice in it.

He ended up making her pancakes, something he had just learned how to make and was very proud of himself. Despite it being almost midnight she ate the pancakes eagerly.