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miss-kittys-magical-library · 3 years

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Leon & cuddles 🥰

A Spoonful of Sugar

(A Leon x Honey One Shot)

Word Count: 1500

Warnings: None. Not a one.

A/N: Leon decides to have a conversation with his little girl before she's born. And then five years after. @crabstick requested fluffy Kostas cuddling.

Not long after Leon turned 26, Honey started to show. It was the tiniest bump on the tiniest woman he ever loved. Her stomach, he thought, looked like she had swallowed a small melon. Which Leon thought was funny because every book he secretly perused in the library said the baby was a turnip.

Honey started to wear skirts and dresses more often. Clothes she sewed from scraps or outright stole from Jonny. Occasionally Leon's shirts would end up on her, a belt below her breasts to make it suitable. Anything to hide the coming changes.

They decided her pregnancy was nobody’s business which made their living arrangements harder. Honey and Jonny fought over the bed. Leon was torn between them. He gave up begging Honey to tell just him, just his best friend. But she would hold her stomach and her ground until her fiancé relented.

But then, in the middle of the night, Honey would cry. She would beg Leon’s forgiveness about the secrecy. That she didn't mean to be such a bitch. How she worried she wasn't attached enough to their daughter.

Leon held Honey in his arms and kissed away the tears. “Gracie, it's your body. You aren't a bitch. You’re just scared about being a mum. Your family isn't here to help is all.” He rubbed his nose along the top of her head. “You're really certain the turnip’s a girl?” His family was mostly men. Honey’s family was mostly men. How could they be so lucky?!

Honey would twist herself up in Leon's hair. Her fingers untangled a curl and watched it spring back in place. It crept past his shoulders. There were times she couldn't tell his from hers when they laid together, it was so long now. His mustache and goatee were slowly starting to follow.

“Our daughter from the future told me!” Her sudden laughter rang through Leon’s entire body. “And you! But not you?” Honey’s arm tightened around his waist.

“From the future? Blimey, why would I still look like this if I was from twenty years in the future?! Reckon I'll still be fit at fifty? If that girl was this baby, maybe he was our son?”

Leon started off teasing, but now he grew serious. His green eyes stared at the window while his eyebrows scrunched in thought. There it was, Honey grinned. His mouth slacked open. She kissed it deeply, her tongue a distraction.

Leon pretended to whine her name inside of her lips. Then in one dizzying motion, he laid Honey on her back. She shrieked in delight as he propped up on his arms. His hair hung down in waves on either side of her face before he leaned down to kiss her again.

Honey locked her knees around Leon's hips. She responded to his mouth and tongue when they blazed a path from her breasts to her bellybutton. He held her back in an arched position that made her believe he was going to keep heading south inside of her legs.

When he got to Honey’s stomach, Leon stopped. He brushed just the tip of his nose along the swell in her skin and muscles and womb. He kissed the bump tenderly before pressing the side of his face to it.

“Hello, poppet.” Leon’s greeting was soft and melodic. “I know Mummy talks and sings to you. She is simply mad for you already. Honestly, I am too. I might have to tell her that bit more often.

Honey took a ragged breath. Silent tears spilled down her cheeks. Her fingers combed through Leon’s mane while he kept on holding her and talking. His beard and warm breath sent goose pimples along her skin.

“Mummy says you're going to be a little girl. Are you then? You’ll be the first on both sides. All of your mummy’s side is boys, and I'm the only one on my side. Oh you'll have loads of cousins because I have loads of them, but I'm an only child. Wasn't always like that. My brother died when I was 16. So whether your mama likes it or not, you'll have to accept Uncle Jonny. And Mama will give in to telling him about you. Right?”

Honey snorted and rolled her eyes. She hated when Leon was right. But she also hated only finding out right now Toula and Nick had another son. Still that was her fiancé’s business, and she knew he would've eventually told her when he was ready.

“I think one day you'll have a brother of your own. But you'll be bigger than him and will have to take care of him. Kostas men don't do well without a woman to kick us in the arse,” Leon laughed. He kissed Honey's stomach again.

“Don't tell your mum, but I hope you are like her. Her long hippie hair, and those soft curved hips she's always planting her fists on. Her lovely, big dark eyes and cheek. Bloody hell I hope you have her cheek. I quite resemble a drunk giraffe, so it's best if you look like her.”

“Leon,” Honey tried to interject.

“I mean that! How lucky could I get to have two of you?” Leon squeezed Honey tightly in his arms. He spoke to her as much as her stomach while they both clung to each other. “And I can't bloody wait to find out what she's called.”

Honey had a name in mind, but didn't want to jinx it. “How about Sugar for now?” The moniker came out tentatively. Like she was trying it on for the first time.

He buried his face completely in Honey's body now. There was a humming that his fiancée immediately recognized and whinged playfully, “LEON NOOOO! Don't! I'll sing it for days!”

“A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down!! The medicine go doooownnn!! The medicine go down! Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down! In a most delightful way!” He belted at the top of his lungs with an exaggerated Cockney accent while he sang.

“STOP!!” Honey begged, but Leon only held her like a vice.

“NO!! You're stuck with it as long as we have a little one!”

He reached up and placated his partner with a kiss before lying back down on the pillows beside her. His arms around Honey's shoulder and across her chest. She settled down into his chest before falling asleep immediately. Leon hummed himself to bed not much after.

---

“PAAAPPPAAA!! SING!”

“Seeelinnnaaa it's 4 in the morning. You'll wake the dead with that whinging!! And Sunny!! Enough!”

“Yía yía says Sunny will gobble up flies in his sleep,” the little girl pointed at her brother. His mouth opened wide while he slept nearly upside down in his own bed.

“Oh yeah? Don't you reckon Ben will snatch them first?” The massive raven raised its head from under a wing to gaze at Leon and the little girl. “Πήγαινε πίσω για ύπνο (Go back to sleep).”

To Leon's shock, it obeyed. He turned back to his daughter who stared up at him with her large dark eyes. Honey's eyes. How he loved to look into them. She got to her knees and held his face in her hands, a deadly serious look on her own.

“I need you. To sing me. To sleep, Papa.”

“Am I being threatened by a five year old?!”

Selina batted her eyelashes; Leon snorted. Of course he gave in to her. As long as his little girl breathed, he would do anything for her. Even if that was to sing to her at 4am.

So her daddy scooped her up in his arms. He cuddled her. One large hand cradled her head so she could hear his heart beating for her. Like it did for Honey. Like it did for Nicklaus. And maybe a part of Leon was ashamed, but maybe not, because it drummed loudest for Selina.

“A robin feathering his nest has very little time to rest while gathering her bits of twine and twig,” he sang at about a quarter of the original tempo. The lovely song became a lullaby over the years.

The little girl joined in between yawns, “A spoonful of meee helps the med-cine go down.. Papa?” she asked. “What's that mean?”

“That yucky stuff is better with sugar.”

And that was true Leon thought as he fell asleep sitting up with Selina in his arms. Nicklaus made his world brighter. Honey held him together. But Leon's life was sweeter with Sugar.

Tag: @neuroticpuppy @bisexualnathanyoung @elliethesuperfruitlover @magic-multicolored-miracle @nightmonsters @super-unpredictable98 @vonkimmeren @messengeronthemoon @frogs--are--bitches @070188 @the-freckled-luba @forenschik @firstpersonnarrator @duck-noises @a-ghoulish-tale

#robert sheehan #robert sheehan character fic #leon x honey #selina #robert sheehan fluff #100+ followers event

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namjoonchronicles · 5 years

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outnumbered | th

↳ pairing taehyung x you ↳ genre fluff, slice of life, domestic, husband-Taehyung amen ↳ words 6k ↳ summary raising five kids with a full-time job is a challenge. thankfully, Taehyung agreed to be a full-time house husband. but the matriarch family aren’t usually appreciated. Especially, when the women earns for the house. ↳ note Taehyung have 5 kids, they’re : Renee (7), Noah & Niel (5), Tati (3) and the youngest, Sam (3 months old) ↳ song lieuwe roonder ‘let me love you’

Taehyung begins his duties at 4am everyday. Around this hour, the youngest will be fed with her formula milk, freshly warmed and perfect for the morning. Taehyung’s large feet slip into mismatched indoor slippers, sitting at the side of the bed and he’d turn off the night lamp from his side. He routinely take your phone and plug it to the charger while you stay asleep.

For Taehyung, the day begins early. And he usually started with pouring the grinded coffee beans into the coffee machine, and lets them boil in time while he disappears to the laundry room with your blouse for ironing. He stifled a yawn, gliding the iron to smoothen creases on the semi-crumple light pink long sleeves. What is that colored blob? He leans in to see closer. But without his glasses, he wasn’t able to make sense of what it was, so he sniffed it.

Milk? Coffee? Milk coffee?

Taehyung’s eyes darted to the top left of the ceiling after setting away the iron from the board, to prevent it from burning like the last time. How many time do I have to tell her not to stain her clothes? This is twice this month.

He didn’t waste time to pick another maroon flowy blouse with a black pencil skirt for you to wear to work today. This one needs a steam iron because its made of satin silk. He was saving this particular blouse for friday night, but he had no choice.

The coffee machine readily brews and began to expel its liquid into the coffee jar right underneath it. Taehyung dashes pass it with your ironed cloth on a hanger. It hooks securely around the edge of the wardrobe—out of reach of children.

He looks at the time. 5:15AM. Next, laundry. He collects heaps of clothes set next to each door and into the large basket he held close to his waist.

The baby begins to cry. You frowned in your sleep, but as you try to reach your phone, it wasn’t there. You lay face down, grabbing nothing on the side table. Not a minute later, you heard Taehyung shushing her quiet.

“Daddy’s got you… shush, mummy’s sleeping…” Taehyung rocks Sam side to side, while attacking with smooches around her face. Barely 10 months old, Sam is already gurgling audible words. Taehyung predicts that she’ll start walking before she turns two. Sam’s eyes is wide open and Taehyung knows she won’t be able to be put to bed again.

Sam is going to cling on him like a baby koala. Not that he minds. Taehyung is now fixing the water bath warm enough for a shower. As it fills up, Taehyung lunges down the hall in fast steps to knock on the eldest door. “Renee? Renee… wake up, school time…” he turns the knob to find Renee stirring in her single bed and kissed the top of her head. The fourth child fell asleep on the floor next to Renee’s books.

“How did Tati end up on the floor, Renee?” Taehyung asked in hushes. He had to put Sam down to carry Tati back up into her bed as Renee waddles with her blue towel draped over one shoulder. Her eyes drooping sleepily. Taehyung collected Sam again and walked out.

He poked his head into the fridge after placing Sam on the baby chair to take out three overnight oatmeals and milk. Taehyung passed the baby chair to jog down the other end of the hall to wake the twins, Noah and Niel. Renee is out of the bathroom now, and she is dressing herself up. She’s 7 and just started school.

“Dad! Where’s my nametag?” She yelled. “Check your pocket!” Taehyung retorted, before knocking twice on the boys’ door. Before he turns the knob, he inhaled deeply as if he’s about to unleash the beast. In this case, two beasts.

“Boys, good morning…” he sang. “Daddy I can’t find my nametag…” Renee whined at the door in her school uniform. “Okay, I’ll go find it, but can you have breakfast while you wait?” Taehyung said in a hurry. Noah had stood up in the middle of his bed and Niel won’t move.

“Alright…”

Tati had began crying very loudly.

“Also, sweetheart can you go wake mummy up? She’s going to be late,” Taehyung kneels next to Niel, and shaking his shoulder to wake him. He’s sleeping like a log. Only 5 years old, but sleeps more than Uncle Yoongi does.

Renee disappears. But now Tati started whimpering, while hugging Taehyung’s arm. Noah is now pulling down his pants with his dingles dangling, saying he wants to pee. Taehyung sprints to grab Noah from the bed, and into the bathroom. But he didn’t make it to the potty. Noah peed on the floor.

Tati’s crying intensifies because she fell back when Taehyung carried Noah. Niel threw her a plushie in an attempt to quiet her down.

“Daddy!” She shrieked, “Niel threw me bear-bear…” “Niel, don’t throw Tati the bear-bear… what did daddy tell you about that,” Taehyung is cleaning Noah up.

“Daddy where is the socks?” Renee asked. Noah is groaning while Niel is throwing a tantrum in his bed.

“Noah, Niel, you are going to be late. Where is Tati’s pacifier? Who took Tati’s pacifier?” Taehyung wipes Noah’s face with his own shirt before patting Niel’s bottom to hurry him.

“Noah! Niel!” You roared from across the hall. The boys straightens up and waddled to your room.

“How many times do I have to tell you that when dad had the baths ready, you have to wake up when he asked you to?” Hand on hip and the two tattle to the bathroom and showered.

Taehyung carries Tati around his waist now. He passes you a mug of coffee. Tati stopped crying immediately. “Dad! My nametag!” Renee yelled. Taehyung tipped his head back and you patted his chest twice, “I got it, watch the boys…” and then, “Coming baby. Mommy is coming!”

“No I want daddy…”

You stopped in your steps and spun your heel around, “Guess not…”

Taehyung hands Tati to you and you watched the boys brush their teeth, before he disappears into the hallway to help Renee. “Do you really need that nametag?” Taehyung whined.

“Even mom and dad don’t remember my name sometimes.”

The boys is now dressed in their pre-school uniforms and climbing on the tall stool for their breakfast. Sam had dunk her whole hand inside the bowl of oat meant for Noah. And Noah screams.

“Sam put her hand inside my food!” “Sam don’t put your hand in Niel’s food…” “I’m Noah!” “I’m not Niel!”

“And I will be late,” You buttoned up your blouse and zipped your pencil skirt.

Taehyung finally sat Tati down, wiped Sam’s oat covered hand with a wet cloth. “Can you fetch Renee? Didn’t you get half day off? The boys has parents teachers meeting we need to attend…” He glances at you repeatedly, while reminding Renee to wipe her mouth before she leaves with you.

“I really can’t. I’m swamped today… can’t you be late for the meeting to fetch Renee? Just bring Renee along…” “Renee has piano lessons today…” “Oh shoot, I forgot.”

“We need to do laundries tonight. It’s still on right?” Taehyung held the door open while Renee, Noah, Neil and you wore shoes and scattered out the door. “Yeah definitely,” you stood on tiptoes and plant a kiss on his cheek. “Please, for the love of God, be home before 6pm,” he eyed you, lips parted a little.

“Remember to get the rice cake order for grandma’s memorial ceremony!” Taehyung yelled, followed by, “Be good at school, all three of you!”

Taehyung turns to Tati and Sam. Both too young to go to school, still in their PJs.

“Guess there’s just us, girls.”

And then he heard it. The beeping. The semi silent ringing. He dashed to the messy bedroom to see the phone blinking. Your phone.

“Damn it.”

Extra diapers. Some edibles. Some toys to pass time. It didn’t take long for Taehyung to pack Tati’s backpack.

“When we get to mummy’s office, you have to promise me you don’t run around, and behave okay?” Taehyung knelt next to the bag. Tati leans her tiny body on Taehyung’s arm. Sam is gurgling on the sofa on her back.

“Why are we going to mummy’s office?” “Mummy forgot her phone. She needs it so we could call her later in the evening.”

It gets really hard. He’s not going to lie. Having five children isn’t a walk in the park. More like running through it. Raising children is not a one person job. It could feel like 15, and at the end of the month there’s always a constant worry if the expenses will be enough until the next payday. There’s two diaper packs that needed to be bought, and school items, school trips, and fees. Uniforms, extra lessons. Having a family means having a lot. Before you even decide to have this home with him, he already had trouble convincing you to have children. Everybody knows how eager Taehyung is about having a large family, and to be honest with you, sometimes you feel like marrying a complete stranger when it comes to things like this.

Sometimes, he felt like marrying a stranger. At one point, your goals and destination seems different from one another because you were still a career-oriented girl with determination of a first year worker, but at the same time you are also mom to five, and sometimes, Taehyung demanded your presence in the home you built together. Having children also means less time together. Which leaves little room for communication. You’d be home, far too tired for a conversation, and he’d be piled with domestic demands and tasks. You try to help, you do, but most of the time you are at work and there are moments that you don’t get to see your children for days.But you are determined not to leave room for doubts when it comes to Taehyung and your priorities. It was a lengthy shift from your golden university aspirations, but you can’t imagine a life without Taehyung. And now, the five children.

Fingernail tap on the marble desk coming from a pair of large hands. The concierge occupant lift her gaze to see a friendly boxy smile. She intuitively tuck her hair behind her ear helix.

“I’m not sure if you remember,” Taehyung shyly greeted her. “Yes! Yes, Mr. Kim… Mrs. Kim’s husband, it’s been awhile, I’ll let you up. Here’s your passcard,” she bowed once and Tati waved enthusiastically back at her. So cheerful.

“You’re adorable…Is this the little one?” the receptionist let out a bashful smile. “No, this one is. This one is Sam,” Taehyung turns to show the gurgling bundle of joy, strapped on his back. Taehyung lets out a proud smile as he took the passcard.

Tati reaches for her dad’s hand but wrapped her little finger only around his pinkie. Sam falls to a sleepy riddle. “Earlier, Mrs. Kim was in a meeting. I’m not sure if it has ended or not, but do help yourself around…” the receptionist smiled politely, guiding Taehyung down the elevator hallway and pressed the button going up. Then she leaves him be.

Taehyung felt rather giddy going back here after awhile. The last time he came, he made quite an impression for singing live with his honeyed deep voice that leaves the audience awed. The last time he came, he was a vocal coach with a five figure earnings, a good sports car and a collection of Van Gogh arts. Last time he came, there was no Renee, Noah, Niel, Tati or Sam. That was close to ten years ago. This is where he met his wife, you.

He’s not going to lie. He sometimes ponder on how life would be if he didn’t fall for you that night. Maybe sitting in his expensive penthouse, in a king sized bed, filled with loneliness, of a longing for someone he had never met, wondering if she was still out there. He let go of his job, so you could have yours.

Tati tugs his sleeves, looking up at him through her thick lashes. “Daddy, I need to go potty,” she murmured cutely. Tati had recently been toilet-trained so she was told to tell someone if she needs to go to the toilet. Taehyung gulped down the whole plastic cup of drinking water at once, in a hurry, because he knows that if he dragged time, she’d might pee there and then. There’s only one problem.

The male restroom doesn’t have toilet bowl meant for kids like the females. Taehyung dashed through the automated door and carried Tati into the first cubicle. Sam is snoozing on her father’s back, soundly. Her finger stretches as she accommodates the sudden movement, but resumes sleeping. Taehyung heard the next door cubicle was being flushed, and then another.

“Did you hear about our head technician and our company lawyer?” this man had a higher voice tone, with a slight southern twang at the end of his words, suggesting a heavy Gwangju accent.

Taehyung then heard your name. “With Min Yoongi? The lawyer?” Another man replied, the automated wash basin washing water down their palms when it detects hands. This one had a clearer set of pronunciation. Fit for a news anchor, with the way he spoke.

“Nah, with our leading advocate, solicitor, and P.A.; Park Jimin,” the one with Gwangju accent replied, “Turns out that the company’s recent soliciting isn’t the only soliciting he does.” “What do you mean?” “Rumors had it that they’re a thing. Last month, when the company vault had an audit check, Jimin promptly said the auditing for May was in his team, when it wasn’t. Now why would he do that if he doesn’t have a thing for her?” Slight pause, “...Someone caught them dating in the car last Tuesday. All laughing and giggling… it was very scandalous.” “Isn’t she married?” “I know right… I don’t think her husband knows.” “Why would she do such a thing…”

That’s right. Why would you do such a thing.

“Daddy--” Tati spoke but Taehyung covered her mouth immediately, waiting for the two men to leave. After putting Tati into her briefs, Taehyung walked back out with her. His mind flashes into the conversations he had caught you in, oftenly, middle of the night when everyone was asleep.

“I just want to say thank you for today, it was really nice to have someone to lean on when things go south,” he heard you sigh into the phone by the window, away from bed. You must have thought he was asleep.

“I really enjoyed it, I do… too much,in fact,” you swept your untied hair back, and looked up to the window pane, drawing random shapes on the fogged window.

All these while, he thought it was a girl. All these while he thought it was your best friend from college. He never once questioned your loyalty, ever.

And when he left that restroom, he saw his doubts in action.

You were walking down the crisp hallway, fiddling with a file in your chest, smiling far too widely even for a friend, to that man with glasses. It was very unsettling. The conversation you had with him.

“I wouldn’t know what to do, if it weren’t for you…” you let out a breathy giggle. “You don’t have to worry about that. I got you, I always do. That’s my job,” this man passed.

“You should break me in half the next time too. I’d appreciate that.” “Don’t mind if I do.”

Taehyung waited until you both disappeared into the staff’s pantry. Then he took Tati out from hiding and she innocently asked, “Why didn’t we talk to mom?”

“We came to surprise her, didn’t we?” Taehyung blurted with a broken smile, and rubbed her hair, “Got to fix your ponytail so you’ll look neat for mommy. How does daddy look? Do I look handsome?”

She nodded enthusiastically. She doesn’t know anything. She doesn’t understand anything.

And in that brief moment, Taehyung resented you. Not because you gave him room for doubts, but because you allowed someone else to come in between. Your actions are selfish. Spiteful.

“Go knock on mommy’s glass door…” Taehyung urged Tati and she did with a huge toothy grin.

“Come in…” your voice was clipped and full of authority. The one Taehyung remembers whenever he calls you at work, or in bed, several years ago before Sam came.

Taehyung helped Tati pushed the door open and you gasped pleasantly so loud, pushing your chair back and knelt before she even get into your open arms, greeting you with a huge hug. “My babies!” you closed your arm around her and carried her up to one side of your waist, before stretching towards Taehyung to have him leaning over for a smooch but he settled for a brush on your cheeks instead. You ruffled Sam’s hair too. Precious.

“I didn’t expect this!” You giggled, and Taehyung pulled your phone out of his back pocket and you replied a disgruntled, ”Oh.”

“Can we talk for a bit?” Taehyung asked in a deep tone. Tati cupped her hand to whisper in your ear. She asked if she can lay down on the couch there. You simply nodded to Taehyung but only after you excitedly answer Tati’s question. “Of course, baby girl, you can sit, and you can lie down, just promise not to stand on it because you could fall and hurt yourself, okay?” You set her feet on the floor and brushed your lips on her forehead so it’s now smushed with red lipstick.

Red lips always lie.

“Is it about school? Renee’s? The boys?”

Taehyung shook his head.

“Do I need to call someone to watch over the kids?”

“You know what. I came to give you the phone and I did. So I think I should head back soon,” Taehyung looks at the wall clock, “Noah and Niel are coming home soon and I hadn’t cooked anything.”

Then he felt your hand around his forearms, giving an assuring squeeze. “But you just got here, can’t you stay for a little while?”

Do you even want me here? Are you just playing the good wife because your cover was almost blown? Where has he touched you? Where have you let his hands go? Because that breathy laughter was reserved for me. And only me.

“Just a little while,” Taehyung felt his heart softened while his head hardens. A part of him felt disappointed that he let you win. Another part of him wanted to be the man that is still foolishly in love with you and another, wanted to walk away because the reap wasn’t as much as he sow. If only things were that simple. If it wasn’t for these kids, he would have gone rampage the moment he found out. How could he catch on the signs? He was too busy running the household. Busy wiping pees, cleaning poops, ironing clothes, getting food ready--he could not have noticed the telling signs of you cheating.

You spent more time here at work than you ever did at home. How could he be so stupid?

He was in love…. Love makes people stupid.

So he sat there, Sam sleeping on her side and her blankets draped over her to accommodate the indoor aircon temperature while Tati had slept on Taehyung’s lap, having her dad fluffing her hair to make her sleepy--he sat there watching you take calls, the length of the pen in between your lips, eyes focused, hands flipping over the pages of endless accounts. Your job is to keep the supplies going for months. Every product delivery and the materials to create them were under your supervisions, a stressful job that was slightly different than the ones you had when you were in the industry, working there.

In short, you have to plan two months supply ahead for fast-moving items to meet demands. Knowing so many people depend on your efficiency gives you slight anxiety that you were still taking pills for. Taehyung knows that much.

“Baby, are you stressed?” his sudden question didn’t stir you much, you were too occupied with work to bother too much about it. “Same old-same old, sweetheart… why? Is there something you’d like to talk about?” you murmured, switching your attention on the left page of the reports for last week delivery numbers to help predict the next month’s consumption.

“Just asking…” “I hope we can have lunch together, I wanted to eat with the kids.”

Taehyung felt an incoming ‘but’. But he was intruded, before it could come.

Jimin walks in. Yes, Taehyung knows about Jimin. He is your personal assistant for a year now since the last one resigned because she was starting a family. At first, Taehyung didn’t pay attention to it, but now that he had doubts; every single glance, words, and touches exchanged between you and Jimin had become breadcrumbs.

With a sleek blonde hair, pushed back, Jimin wore a classy baby blue dress shirt, paired with black trousers too tight for Taehyung’s comfort. He wears full-rimmed glasses but today, had them folded and tuck in his breast pocket when he came to see you.

“You called for me?” Raspy, light toned, polite and mesmerizing voice. He bowed his head slightly at the sight Taehyung and smiled fondly to the sleeping toddlers.

“I did,” you paused while pulling out a file from the stack, “I don’t recall agreeing on this design for the Summer packaging, and this particular bubble wrap supplier, we’ve worked with in the past, they’re very late in completing orders, I just don’t understand why I have to approve something I didn’t agree on--the last time I checked,” you tipped your eyes up and Jimin leans down closer, both of your faces are merely inches away from each other. You pointed the said company on the invoice paper and showed Jimin. Jimin squeezes his eyes and lowered his head to see better. That’s what the glasses are for, Taehyung pushes his tongue against the insides of his cheek, watching an absolute horror unfold before his eyes.

“Yes, yes… I remember that too,” Jimin softly whispered. It was almost as if Taehyung is morphed into witnessing a pillowtalk, “Here’s what we do, I’m going to double check with the secretary and make sure that we have updated the new list of companies that we are satisfied working with; I’ll make sure to email you, no later than…” he drags, and looked at his Rolex wrist watch that looked very similar to the ones you got for Taehyung on his birthday last year, brown straps, “...3pm.”

“Thanks, Jimin...what would I do without you,” you breathlessly say and Jimin gave you a charming smile that turned his eyes into crescents. “No problem,” Jimin tipped his head in your direction and excused himself with a polite expression at Taehyung, his boss’s husband. “I thought we’re going to talk?” Taehyung stuck his gaze on his knees, raising both of his eyebrows, his thumb picking on the threads of his worn out jeans.

You noticed the sudden change of tone but decided not to dwell on it. “Can it wait? Is it important?” The way it leaves your lips, was so tactless and when you realised how insensitive it was, it was already too late.

“I don’t know. Is our marriage important?”

You shut the door leading to the sky garden after Taehyung set his hands on the metal rails, over-looking down the metropolitan city. The high-rise building, the blue cloudless sky, the strong wind striking every once in a while, the car honks from the streets down below.

“Taehyung, what’s this about?” with the silence growing, you became impatient. Taehyung drops his head, his arms stretched along the handrails with a heavy huff and the droop of his shoulders.

“You built everything from the ashes… this building we stood on. From scrapes. It’s funny when you think about the very beginning at the first hint of an,” end. Taehyung didn’t finish his sentence. “This is all very lovely, and heart-warming,” you clicked your tongue and looks at your wrist watch, “But we could do this conversation inside...I thought it was something serious, because you mentioned marriage and stuff.” “It is about marriage,” Taehyung spun around to face you, “You--”

Your phone rang, and you answered it, “Yes I am aware of the conference call, I will be there on time, Jimin. Thank you for the reminder.” Much to Taehyung’s dismay. Taehyung’s jaw hung, in disbelief. He scoffs.

“Look at you!” he stresses, “You don’t have time being a mother, let alone a wife! Your work is consuming you. Not only that, you spend more time here than you ever do at home…! You speak to Jimin more than we do in a week!” He slows down, only to continue, “It was Tati’s birthday last week and you didn’t even show up or get her a present. I bought one for her and told her that it was from you.... And she was so happy…” he shook his head, a broken smile on his lips.

You were stunned. You were unable to utter a word. So you begin with a whisper of his name, “Taehyung…”

He turns away from you, his hand on his hip and he darted his eyes to the front before shutting them. Disappointed, unloved and possibly unheard.

“Everytime I say I need you home, you say you’re at the office and you will be late. All I want to know is, is it really work? Or is there more?” “What are you talking about…” “I’m talking about why Jimin is calling you out of office hours? And why do I find his tie in your bag? Why does he have the same wrist watch I have? Are you cheating on me?” “No. I wouldn’t!” “So you would have, if you didn’t have 5 kids with me? Is that it?” “Stop twisting my words… Jimin is my coworker and he helped me purchase that wrist watch for you. I went to team dinner with him, I told you that!”

Taehyung turns to face you and your brimming eyes, he leans his mouth next to your ear and growled, “Well coworkers don’t sit in the car together, after midnight...you thought I didn’t see that?” Taehyung leaves the sky garden with a hard gaze, piercing through Jimin’s entire body when he found the poor assistant standing right beside the entrance door to the sky garden. Taehyung was a master at disguising his emotions. Especially in front of his children.

“I’ll see myself out, thank you,” Taehyung carried Sam and Tati with ease. When Tati asked why she can’t say goodbye, Taehyung said, her mom is in a meeting. It was an obvious lie and Jimin heard it all.

You were still there. Still standing at the same spot Taehyung left you in. Still there, processing everything that had been said. Jimin’s heavy footsteps didn’t shake away your worry one bit, like it used to. You clutched your phone shakily, and pressed them against your lips, eyes darted forward at the sky. And you heard the door open, but you wave them away, whoever it might be. Not even turning to face them.

Jimin nodded once, “I’ll tell them you’ll be in ten minutes.”

Instead of heading back to the office, Jimin hid in the bathroom for employees. He laced his fingers together and leaned his forehead on them, sitting on the toilet cover, knees widespread. He bit his lips and half-shook his head.

You returned home before 6pm that day. The house is in a mess. For the first time in a long time, you arranged your heels neatly on the racks. The kids have had their dinner early. And there are three large baskets for laundry, arranged in a line by the wall. You took time to notice all the finer details of your beloved home, the one you build with Taehyung. Picture frames after picture frames greeted you. Of when Renee turned 2, then 3, then 4… and how you gradually disappear through the years. You couldn’t ignore the pain in your heart when you heard Taehyung’s voice in the distance.

“Okay, everybody out the tub!” Taehyung commanded, “Look at your fingers all wrinkled! We have to get out now, or you’ll age!” “Dad is lying!” Noah and Niel are very giggly and it struck you that you’ve never given bath to the kids ever since they could start to walk.. Sam had never been bathe by you since you started working, and you relied heavily on Taehyung.

“Oh noona! You’re home,” Jungkook bowed at you. Jungkook lives next door and frequently helped with babysitting the kids whenever he is needed. Laundry every 3 days and he’ll come and does his duties without being prompted. Once he resumes his college, you will have to find a new replacement and you hadn’t spoke about this with Taehyung yet. There’s a lot of things that needed discussions, and there’s so little time in a day.

Blinking the tears away, you turned your attentions to the halls where Taehyung is carrying both of the boys in each arm, wrapped in towels. Taehyung caught your eyes but didn’t reciprocate the sadness. It’s like the conversation never happened, but with the way he was ignoring you, you were once again reminded that it did.

“Do you want to change first or what…” your husband took your purse but avoided your eyes entirely. “I’ll change,” you breathed.

Taehyung nods once. “Alright, Jungkook. The baby is in the crib there, Tati is colouring in the room while Renee is doing her homework.. There’s chopped fruit cubes in the fridge in case they get hungry, and there’s extra bottles of milk for the youngest. The boys have eaten no matter how much they try to fool you, don’t fall for it..understand?”

You could still hear Taehyung from the halls and it was amazing how he had everything sorted, alone. The bed is still neat, and none of the children were allowed on it, because it was mum and dad’s special place. Toys are in the basket, the diapers are arranged, along with the baby clothes, and it was easy to look past all these detail and you hated yourself for not being able to see this before.

Jungkook helped carry the baskets down with Taehyung and before your husband could make his way to the driver seat, you stopped him. Your eyes pleaded him with words you couldn’t say, when Jungkook is still here, fooling with the kids. Taehyung moves away, wordlessly and planted a kiss on each of the kids’ hair that manages to follow Jungkook down the apartment into the parking lot.

In the car, Taehyung rested his elbow on the car door, his long index finger rubbing the skin on top of his upper lip, his eyes lasering to the view outside the moving car. There’s only the music from the radio playing. Your heart is beating very fast, your eyes were drying from the way you were making them stay open. He’s right next to you, but you don’t feel him there. Is he even breathing? You want nothing more than to reach for him, tell him that you love him and how it doesn’t change, but it feels like you’re already too late. You don’t want to carry on like nothing is wrong. You want to save what you have left.

Taehyung was biting the insides of his cheeks, replaying the scene from this morning in repeat. He was angry, sad, upset, jealous--and he isn’t sure where to put his feelings. He doesn’t speak because all the talking had been done. You weren’t speaking either, but what was those eyes for? The way you’re looking at him. Is it a plea for him to stay? Why would you think he was going anywhere? The accusations are true, isn’t it? That’s why it scared you. Taehyung was eating his feelings.

He loads the laundry. No words exchanged. You insert the coins while he collects the empty basket, and stack them, one after the other. He took one bench and you took the seat right next to him. In between you both, on the floor, are the baskets you came with, empty. All its content in three different machines. Taehyung leans his head back. He wore a grey hoodie underneath a red plaid jacket. His brown fringes cover his brows, as he pushed his tongue against the insides of his cheek. You sat up straight, at the edge of the bench, knees pointed to the side where he is, hands in your lap, clasped and unclasping.

“...I want to tell you that everything you heard isn’t true,” you started. Taehyung nodded away, but in a careless way, as if he didn’t believe a thing you said. “It’s not just about what I heard. It’s what I see. With my own two eyes. It leaves me wondering what else you’ve been doing behind my back…” Taehyung crosses his arms. “Nothing, sweetie…” you emphasized, “I do my work, and nothing else.”

“Listen,” you moved closer to him but he repelled, “I realised that we haven’t been spending time together and that’s horrible of me. I hadn’t been treating you well but I want to, starting now. I just need to know that you still want this.”

Taehyung’s guard starts to wane. His arms fall to each side and he sat on the edge, clutching his fingers on the brim of the bench, underneath him. He chews his lower lip, feeling anxious to tell you what he had been feeling.

“I do. But, do you?” he pauses, and then, “When you come home from work, you don’t even look at me. You fall right to sleep when I begin talking to you in bed. Your answers are brief, and our only conversations are about diapers or house errands.”

There are nights that he wants you so much but couldn’t find it in him to ask for you. He would watch you sleep and before he could register those images in his head, another kid goes crying. You may have your company to worry about, and he only has you. Waiting for you to come home, to ask you about your day, to take care of your needs--whatever it might be. And it’s easy to forget, that he needs you too. Emotionally, sexually.

Do you ever look at the end, and wondered about the beginning? To how it all began, to what was there before the blizzards come and swept away everything?

Taehyung is your partner, in sickness and in health. There are so many things that you’ve been through, together. The house that you live in, it wasn’t painted and had a lot of holes. The walls needed remodelling, and when the remodelling happens, they needed to be painted over. And he’s the one helping you to reach the top corners that you couldn’t. You both have sat on that floor, where the couches are now, talking about the dreams you wanted to have together. You rested your head on his shoulder, while leaning back on the wall, a mug of hot chocolate between your hands. His eyes sparkles at the thought of having children run around this house. Picture frames began to decorate the walls, couch was brought in, rugs, curtains were hung, television set, coffee table, dining table, dining table chairs, kitchen appliances. And slowly, the house was filled.

If loyalty was put to the test, Taehyung would have passed with flying colors.

A whiff of the detergent begins to fill the corners of the laundromat, and you slowly reached for his veiny arms, sliding down his wrist. You took those hand into both of yours, and pressed your lips on each knuckle, murmuring, “I’m so thankful to have you.”

Taehyung’s gaze softens at the sight of you, and he covered your hands with his own, squaring his shoulder at you, so you sit face to face with each other.

“Please tell me how I can make this better,” you looked at him with eyes brimming with tears, and the moment he saw it, he gathers your head into his chest, cradling them gently. Gradually, the simple hand holding turns into an embrace. “Spend more time at home, with me...and do what lovers do,” Taehyung’s eyes turn into crescents, his lips puckered. He comforted you with a kiss on the forehead.

“And I want that Jimin fired,” Taehyung darted. “I’ll keep my distance from him,” you persuaded.

“Deal.” Deal.

The trip to the laundry, was even more fulfilling than the nights before. Romance are rekindled and words are exchanged for the better. Communication is key.

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sherlollydramoine · 5 years

Text

Look At Me Daddy

Warnings: none, fluffy dad rami, trampoline fun, and just general cuteness. This was written in about an hour between like 3 and 4am, unedited so all mistakes are all mine.

This is a little something inspired by a conversation that @ramibaby overheard. I wrote Dad! Rami, she wrote Dad! Joe.

Stepping out into the backyard, sipping your iced tea you watch with a smile at the sight of your four year old son Said jumping on his new trampoline.

Rami was nervously standing by the side, as he had yet to install the safety net that came with the trampoline.

Your son was far too excited about his birthday present from his Uncle Joe and cousin Charlie, to allow anymore time to be wasted when he could be playing with his new toy.

Your set your iced tea down on the table, and grab a chair from the deck to bring down to sit next to Rami, who was wearing a light sheen of sweat on his forehead either from the summer heat or from nervousness.

Your son, blissfully unaware of his dad's nervousness is having the time of his life jumping higher and higher letting out delighted squeals and shrieks. His cheeks rosy with exertion and the smile seemingly permanently stuck on his face

"BEST PRESENT EVER!!!"

Rami will never admit it but with each jump your son took he would nervously reach out, ready to catch your little man should he accidentally propel himself off the side of the trampoline.

You rest your hand on your swollen pregnant belly. "Relax babe, he's going to be just fine. You can finish installing the net when he is taking his bath this evening."

"But what if-" Rami starts before your son starts yelling for his attention.

"Looooooook at meeeeee daaddddddddddyyy!" your son yells out.

"I see you little man! You're jumping so high." Rami encourages.

"I'm going so hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiggggggghhhhhh daaaaddddddddyyyyyyyyyyyy"

Your son stops his bouncing so suddenly that Rami nearly climbed onto the trampoline to make sure he was okay.

Sensing Rami's panic you ask your son if everything is alright.

"I'm okay mommy I just thought about something kind of cool" he suddenly turns his gaze upward and squints at the sky. "Hey daddy I'm gonna try and catch the sun for mommy and sister!"

You start to tear up because despite the fact that his sister wasn't due for another month and a half, your son clearly already loved her. You sniffle a little trying to hide your sudden emotional outburst.

"You crying babe?" Rami asks.

"No." you lie.

"Uh-huh. Liar. I'm going to go grab your tea, you got an eye on him?" he asks as he places a quick kiss to your temple.

"Always babe and thank you."

"Daaaadddddddyyyyyyy. Looooookkkk at meeeeeeeee!"

You can't help but to laugh out loud at your son's wildy curly hair matted with sweat and stuck to his forehead, as he waves his arms around frantically trying to get his dad's attention.

"Look at you bubba. I think you've almost caught the sun. You're so close." you offer, but he isn't having it.

"Daaaaaaddddddddddyyyyy don't leave meeeeee!" your son screeches out when he realizes that Rami was walking away.

"I'm right here bubs, I'm not going anywhere." Rami yells as he comes running back to the side of the trampoline.

Little Said had always known exactly how to command his father's attention, and has always known how to get exactly what he wants.

"Daaaaaddddddddddddyyyyyyyyy look at meeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Wait, Daaaaaaddddddddddyyyyy come back! Don't leave meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!" your son was excitedly screaming at the top of his lungs now.

Your son playfully reaching out to his dad each time he lands."Daaaaaaadddddddyyyyy come help me catch the sun for mommy and sister!"

Rami looked apprehensive for only a few seconds before his inner child took over and he happily clamored onto the trampoline.

You can't help but sigh at the adorableness of your two favorite boys, as they playfully roll around for a few minutes.

Rami jumps up and yells "LET'S CATCH THE SUN!"

He scooped up Said, holding him tightly as he began tentatively bouncing for a few seconds.

"Babe, you better be careful up there. We don't want you damaged or injured in any way. Your team would kill me! " you hollered after him.

"I'll be fine, remind me to call Joe later so we can thank him and Charlie for the birthday gift. Darling, I'm pretty sure my team is terrified of you after you gave them all a piece of your mind over the whole PR crap they tried to pull with me."

Letting out the loud guffaw of laughter you shake your head at the memory. You watch the two continue their gentle game, both getting used to how to move with each other.

" Regardless, have fun but please be careful. This whole family is way to accident prone."

"Got it babe, I promise."

It seemed like no time at all the two were carefully jumping side by side trying to 'catch the sun'. Everytime little man jumped daddy picked him up to toss him higher.

"I think I almost got it that time daddy!"

"I think so too bubba!"

You rub your belly as you watch your son and husband bounce around on their new toy, clearly enjoying the summer heat, which you were not. Happy that you are all making memories you get up to head back inside.

Looking down at your protruding middle you can't help but to talk to your daughter. "Kiddo, you are gonna love your daddy and brother so much.We're gonna have so much fun being a part of this fsmily, though don't ever listen to Uncle Joe, he's full of bad ideas."

#rami malek #rami malek reader #rami malek fanfiction #rami malek x you #rami malek x reader #rami malek hc #rami malek headcanon #rami malek imagine #Dad!rami #fluff #cuteness #trampoline

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harryandmolly · 5 years

Text

A Sunday in February

summary: a little pre-Grammys snacc for you, my friends. Shawn and Emma return. and because it’s me, it doesn’t come easy.

warnings: language, Georgie Being Georgie (TM)

WC: 1845

On a Sunday in February, Emma wakes up with a start. She awakes out of a dream, the kind you don’t remember as soon as your eyes open but you want to chase after it, pick it apart, separate it into little piles to analyze. It was an important dream.

She sits up slowly, careful of her aching muscles. She went a little too hard at Pilaticardio yesterday the same way she’s been doing everything at 150% lately, like putting even more effort into her daily life will somehow secure her the Grammys she’s nominated for.

Best Country Song. Best Country Album. Album of the Year.

She hasn’t even let herself think those phrases since she first heard them associated with her name. She’s not even superstitious. Or… she wasn’t.

There’s a creaking sound. Emma squints at the door. She beams.

“... and sometimes the rain has gotta fall.”

Emma felt that one. She doesn’t even look up at her producer Erin, just grips the music stand and leans back, taking a deep breath away from the mic.

“Perfect, Em. That was perfect,” says the voice in her headphones. She nods shakily. She knows.

Running her tongue along her lower lip, she slides her enormous phone out of her too-small pocket. No texts. With a cool bobbing of her head, she slides her phone back in her pocket.

“Should I go again?” she asks.

Georgie steps inside with a breakfast tray. She wastes no time clambering up onto Emma’s bed. The plate she bears is dotted with silver dollar pancakes surrounding a misshapen blob in the center. Emma lifts her eyebrows and before she can begin to speak, Georgie rolls her eyes and huffs.

“Ok, listen, so I bought this pancake form online, right? I ordered it from Etsy from this chick who can make, like, whatever your heart desires. So, obviously, I ordered the Grammys trophy, ya know, the little gold record player thingy? But when you try to make a pancake of that it comes out all… fucking weird.”

By the end of her sentence, Emma is cackling. She’s forgotten all about her dream. She slings an arm around her sister’s shoulders and picks the pancake up with her fingers, biting into what should be the base of the record player, wiggling her eyebrows.

“You’re the most beautiful moron I’ve ever seen,” Emma assures her through a bite of an otherwise very well made pancake. Georgie burrows into Emma’s side with a blushing chuckle.

“At least I have that going for me.”

Shawn’s hand slips off the cool metallic window frame. The heel of his hand butts into the window and he steps forward to right himself with a gasp. His already heaving chest feels like it’s cracking in half, so, Shawn supposes, this might as well happen.

He doubles over, planting his hands on his knees as he pants. He hangs his head, slams his eyes shut and tries to imagine her and what she’s doing right now.

It’s 4am in Los Angeles. Emma is sleeping for at least another two hours. She’s in that big bed all alone, probably curled up on her side like she does in the summer when she keeps her bedroom too cold. In the winter, she cranks up the heat, splays out like a starfish, sweating into the sheets. And she never learns.

Thinking of her calms him through this, this… whatever it is. Calling her, hearing her voice would end it completely.

But he can’t.

Emma sits up so the woman putting makeup on her neck can sweep down into her decolletage. The stereo is blasting “Kerosene” by Miranda Lambert so loud the makeup artists have given up on trying to yell over it -- they’ve developed their own sign language. Emma’s distracted, chewing on the inside of her lip while her butter blonde hair is blown out into big, fat curls -- less Dolly Parton, more Victoria’s Secret Angel. Her instructions this time, not Sandra’s.

Georgie and Angelique stand behind her, both on their phones, both bobbing their heads to the music at exactly the same time. Neither of them has noticed yet. Emma watches in her vanity mirror with a shimmering grin.

Emma heaves a sigh before the voicemail beeps. “Hi. I guess you’re asleep. That’s ok. I mean, it’s fine. I should really be asleep too. Just… wanted to hear your voice. You know how I get. I’m fine, though. Don’t freak out and feel like you have to call the second you wake up. Because I know how you can get too.

“It’s just… a lot. The Grammy thing. You’ve lived through this. And it’s fine, clearly you recovered. I’m sure I’m overthinking it. That’s what we do, though, right? We’re musicians. We… feel things. God, I’m not even making sense. Ok. Listen. I love you. You’re the best. Hopefully I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

“Bye, Taylor.”

As they wait for the limo to arrive, Emma’s focusing on remembering not to chew on her bottom lip because it’s painted with red lacquer more carefully than Michelangelo painted the Sistine fuckin’ Chapel. Her phone buzzes.

Hey little girl! Got your voicemail. So sorry I can’t call. I know where you are. I’ve been where you are. You think you’re on top of a mountain. After all, how could you not be at the top? Three Grammy noms on your first studio album as a solo country artist. How much higher can you climb? I got news for you, kid. You’re not on top of the mountain. You just found the first place with a kickass view. So what do you do? Stop and look around for a minute. The rest of the mountain isn’t going anywhere, it never has. It’s waiting for you. So take a look. It’s beautiful up there.

P.S. check the surrounding rocks for the initials T.A.S. carved in. We all gotta leave our mark somehow.

Love you back.

Shawn’s head buzzes against the window with the vibration of the moving car. Anna elbows him, reminds him he’s wearing foundation on his forehead because he’s been breaking out. Nerves, and all.

He nods and pulls his head back but continues staring out the window. His knee has been bouncing for at least a half hour as they wait in the line of cars crawling toward the red carpet.

He’s been on who knows how many red carpets by now. He’s never been more anxious than he is right now.

And he knows exactly why.

Georgie hums in Emma’s ear about holding her phone in her bag. Emma hands it off, nodding. All she’d be doing is scrolling through early red carpet arrivals, anyway. She’s not expecting to hear from anyone else.

She’s in a custom blood red Christian Siriano. It looks like someone poured liquid satin down her body and let it drop into a train of shimmering fabric with a slit up to her thigh. Sandra would’ve said it’s too old for her. Margaret would’ve said red’s not her color.

Emma pats a curl back into place and smirks down at her strappy red sandals and red clutch.

Emma chooses what is and isn’t her color now. Tonight, red’s her color.

Maybe gold too.

Shawn lifts a hand out of his pocket and draws his fingers up into a peace sign. His smirk lifts into a full smile, but it’s a little dull, half-hearted. He feels like he can’t walk two steps down the red carpet without glancing back down toward the arrivals area.

His heart beats a pounding rhythm in his ears, so loud it mercifully drowns out the crew of paps screaming “SHAWN! SHAWN!” for just a bite of his attention. He keeps one fidgeting hand in the pocket of his midnight black slacks and turns on the heel of his patent leather shoes.

If Emma saw them, she’d say they “shiiiiiiine like the top of the Chrysler building.” She quoted “Annie” whenever she could.

There’s a flurry of energy at arrivals. Shawn glances back.

Yasmin takes one more puff of powder to Emma’s face and another swipe of gloss across her lips. Georgie is talking Emma’s ear off, but she can barely hear it over the roar of camera snaps, fan cheers and event organizers barking at each other.

Angelique is talking, too. Emma just stares at her with her “I’m listening” face.

But she’s not. She’s not listening to Georgie, not listening to the pinging of her phone in her clutch, not listening to Yasmin as she reminds her what angles to hit and what jewelry she’s wearing.

The door to the limo opens. The sound gets louder. It doesn’t matter.

Everyone is looking inside. That, Emma’s used to. She’s even used to the noise. But she’s not used to this feeling, the one that’s got her hair standing on end and her shoulders tensed like she’s the slut in a horror movie and she’s first on the kill list.

She scoots to the end of the seat closest to the door and ignores that maybe it’s her Sandra-enforced training that’s getting her out of the limo and not instead ralphing into a plastic bag a block away outside an In-n-Out.

She puts a leg out first, then extends her hand to the greeter as she ducks her head to save her flossy curls.

Somehow, like rom-com queen Nora Ephron herself designed it this way, she knows it’s him as soon as she feels his hand take hers. She freezes and turns her head, eyes wide, lips parted.

Shawn, looking wild eyed and sweaty with a grin plastered on his beautiful, miraculous face, helps her out of the car amidst crazed, unrelenting fan shrieks, shutter snapping and paparazzi calls.

“SHAWN! SHAWN! EMMA! LOOK THIS WAY!”

Emma can’t feel her legs, but she’s standing on them with her hand in his, dumbfounded for all the world to see.

“How…?” she gasps, ribs shuddering with her aching lungs.

Shawn smirks in that warm, mischievous way he does. “C’mon, Em, you didn’t really think I’d miss this.”

Emma swallows a sob. She lifts her shaking free hand to her face as her lips quiver. Georgie smiles from inside the limo, swiping through the silenced notifications on her sister’s phone --

Shawn Mendes makes surprise appearance at 2020 Grammys! -- The Hollywood Reporter

*Le GASP!* Shawn Mendes Shocks the Grammy Red Carpet! -- Perez Hilton

Sometimes the rain’s gotta fall down, but not today! Shawn Mendes makes a surprise appearance on the red carpet to support his ladylove, 3x Grammy nominated country singer Emma Kingston! -- E! News

With a devious shake of her head (and a wink out the door at Shawn, her co-conspirator), Georgie slips out the other door and offers Angelique a sly high five.

Shawn cups his big hands around Emma’s face and doesn’t even bother to look her up and down before he says, “You look incredible.”

Emma sinks her fingers into Shawn’s forearms and whimpers into his lips before she can even finish getting out the words, “I love you.”

The cameras flash. The girls shriek. The heads turn.

The whole world watches, but they can’t see inside. That’s just for them.

Support me unending habit of writing one shots for series I’ve already finished and buy me a Ko-fi (link on my home page)!

Taglist: @smallerinfinities @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn @infiniteshawn @stillinskislydia @singanddreamanyway @alone-in-madness @abigfatmess @shawnitsmutual @awkwardfangirl2014 @september-lace @accioarmenian @sinplisticshawn @rollingxstone @yslsaint

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes drabble #shawn mendes grammys #grammys #shawn mendes fluff

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mama-ghostie-61542 · 6 years

Text

The Hamato Chronicles Ch. 3

Rated M for Mature--Contains disturbing images, racial slurs, and images of war. PTSD trigger WARNING

If ya recognize it, it ain't mine.

Ch 3

Leo POV

After lunch, which was Marlowe’s mac and cheese, we decided to watch a movie. As per normal, Mikey wanted a horror flick, Raph wanted action, and Donnie wanted a documentary. But, we all agreed to let Lowe pick.

She held up The Princess Bride and started laughing so hard she was almost crying. Our brothers smiled and put the movie in.

Marlowe, propped herself on the back of the couch and said to Dad, “Hey Pop. ‘What about the ROUS’?”

Father smiled and leaned against the door frame. “’Rodents of unusual size?’ Hmm,” he said as he played with his tail, twirling it like a chain. “’I don’t think they exist.’”

After the previews, we heard Sensai yell, “’Everybody move!’”

We scrambled to get out of the way. Dad vaulted over the back of the couch and landed next to Marlowe, who hadn’t moved an inch. He settled in to watch the movie with a smile. We all watched as they would laugh about things like they were inside jokes.

Supper was pizza. We had a ball. The banter between all six of us was music to my ears. It was like an important instrument was missing from our little symphony. One by one, we went off to bed. At 3 am, when I got up to go pee, Marlowe was just laying down.

Don’s POV

I was woken up by a muffled scream at 4am. I met Father at the door to the lab. He seemed just as shaken as I was. The scream was most definitely female, so we knew it could only be Marlowe. The two of us ran into her room to see her thrashing on her bed and shrieking ‘NO’ and ‘Joey’. Occasionally, Marlowe would gag and we’d have to roll her to her side.

“Marlowe, you need to wake up,” my father whispered in his panic as he was petting her face.

I was whispering to her the entire time, “Come on, Sissy, wake up.” But it seemed to go on for hours. It was only maybe a minute but it sure felt like more. When her eyes finally fluttered open, she looked like she was going to hurl, so I grabbed her trash can and thrust it under her face. I was just in time. When she was finally finished, she slumped back on her pillows and sobbed. It kills me to see my strong big sister hurting like this.

Marlowe’s POV

I had gone to bed that night, after having a late night brawl with my survivor’s guilt and almost a whole pot of coffee. Suddenly, I was in the middle of another nightmare.

My world was a little fuzzy. I remember this place. This is where we were when our Gunny said to shoot those kids. Suddenly, I felt myself being thrown around and then Joey was in my lap asking me to watch over his little sister. There was so much blood. I tried to hold it all in. I knew what was coming next. Joey bled to death while we waited for the medics. I can still hear the blast coming. I can still feel the heat of the truck as he was blown next to me. I can still feel the hot of his blood on me, can still smell it. Even after the last 6 months it still makes me gag.

I woke up to Donnie holding up a trashcan for me, which I promptly heaved into. Pop was next to me, gently rubbing my back. After empting my stomach of the last two days of its contents, I started sobbing.

My father whispered, “Marlowe, what happened out there?”

“Dad, I only want to tell this story once,” I somehow managed to croak out, “so you had better get everyone up and here.”

Without us knowing it, Leo had gotten up and was standing outside the door. He went to get our other two brothers up while Don called April and Casey. In a half hour, April and Casey walked into the lair.

Donnie handed me a bottle of water.

“Thanks, Double D,” I said hoarsely.

Raph wrapped the couch blanket around my shoulders a few minutes later. “Are you sure you don’t need this, Squeaks? It’s kinda cold.”

He smiled and said softly, “And I’m not tha one shakin’, Marlowe Jean.”

I looked up to see Mikey squirming on the rug. “Angel, go.”

“But I need to be here for you, Lowe.”

“Just go!”

Mikey grumbled as he got up and stalked off in the direction of the bathroom, leaving Marlowe shaking her head. She looked up at April and Casey, “You guys have siblings?”

April said, “No,” while Casey just shook his head.

“I’m going to tell you two the unspoken sibling code,” Marlowe said as she started to tick them off one by one on her fingers. “One, I may love you to bits and pieces, but I am not required to like you. Two, I can beat you up whenever I want, but if someone so much as looks at you in a fashion I don’t approve of, I will kill them. Three, I reserve the right to despise whoever you settle with as no one will ever be good enough. And four, I also reserve the right to spoil any and all of your progeny to the point of rottenness and far beyond, stopping just short of sociopath.”

April and Casey sat stock still, for nearly a whole minute. Then Marlowe smiled and they started laughing.

After hearing Marlowe call the boys by their childhood nicknames a few times, Casey had to ask where they came from, “So about these nick names?”

Marlowe laughed, “I couldn’t say names or features when I was in BASIC or OJT. Uncle Sam likes to read the recruits letters from home and listen in on their phone calls. So, Uncle Pete and I worked out a system where we would use something from when the boys were little as a code name for each of them. When Leo was little, he was really accident prone and had an awesome speech impediment. He couldn’t say ‘Fell’ so it was kabong or kaboom. I started calling him El KaBong in my letters home. Raph was two when he finally started talking.”

Casey grinned, “And now he never shuts-up.”

“Watch it, Jones. He’s is still my little brother and I am still a Marine,” I replied, hotly, as I leveled a glare at the hockey mask wearing vigilante. “Anyway, he’d get so upset he would scream at the top of his lungs for quite a while if you didn’t immediately understand what he was meaning. He would get this squeaky, hoarse voice after throwing those fits. So, when I had to think of a code word for Raph, Squeaks came to mind. Sometimes, if he is exhausted or really sick, I can get away with ‘Squeaker’, but I don’t push it. Donnie had a huge independent streak when he was two. Every time we’d ask if he needed help his answer was always, “NO! Don-Don do!” In my letters home I shortened it to DD or Double D. Mikey has always been Angel. Guess that’s just the big sister thing. I mean, they are all my angels, but he’s always been my Angel.”

Everyone gathered on the couches in the living room, waiting for me to tell them what happened in Afghanistan. Raph sat one side of me, his arm around my shoulders in an attempt to calm the tremors that still wracked my body, while Don was on the other, holding my hand, secretly keeping an eye on my pulse.

My father sat down across from me, “What happened in Afghanistan, Marlowe.”

“I was out with my squad and my SSgt’s Gunny; a guy by the name of Johnson. He was a bastard; called me a ‘prairie squaw’ to my face quite a few times. Anyway, we were doing a patrol in this tiny little town, the kind where one well serves 6 or 8 houses. There were some kids outside, playing with water guns. I remember this one was mutagen green and neon blue. It was obvious they were just playing in the water when they would stop and fill their soakers back up. This Gunny ordered us to ‘Shoot those damned kids’. All four of us were floored. Caitie looked at him and asked, ‘Whaa’. She wasn’t sure she heard him right. Then he yelled, ‘I order you to shoot those damned towelheads in training. Nits make lice. Bet you’d know all about that wouldn’t you, Hamato’. I about lost it. I looked at him and said, ‘Sir, with all due respect, I respectfully decline to follow that order.” He started screaming at me; called me everything but an American Marine. Then he sent me back behind the lines. I was put on temporary restriction for two days and the paperwork for my discharge was started over my wording. There was a guy working supply for quartermaster company, Joey Loveland, who gave me a ride to regional. We were a few miles away from our destination when he yelled ‘Shit’ and threw me out of the cab of that deuce and a half. He was right behind me. He landed right next to me. I can still feel the heat of the blast; can still taste the sand and dust it kicked up. But most of all, I can still feel Joey’s blood on my hands and hear his screaming,” I paused and took a breath as tears ran down my face. “I can still hear him asking me to watch over his little sister.”

“I sat there, trying to keep him alive while screaming through the satellite phone for a medic when he said to stop. He said he knew he wasn’t going to make it, just asked me to take care of Brynnie for him. He died in my arms. Medics finally got there 10 minutes later, but by then I was in shock. I was sedated for three days because I kept trying to scrub his blood off when it was already gone. When I finally came out of it, my Staff Sargent was there and he told me that JAG wanted to talk to me. Turns out, my girls complained. There was no way to stop my discharge but that Gunny got in some big trouble. Come to find out, I had been put in for Staff Sargent half a dozen times when there was a slot and I had the points, but that Gunny kept turning it down. He kept saying that I wasn’t ready for the responsibility. Mind, I had been a Sargent for years, had all my points, was never flagged, and had never failed a PT test. It all boiled down to my gender and skin color.

When I got back to San Diego, I was in pretty bad shape. I couldn’t eat or sleep; I got put into inpatient observation at a VA Hospital there. A week later, I was transferred to a VA hospital in Pierre, South Dakota. Saw at least three Docs there. No one bothered to look at my address on record. It took me almost four months to get them to transfer me to a caseworker in the Bronx. After that fight, I had another month before I could see a Doc about my anxiety; that was more pills. I was lucky that Caitie got out right after me; she let me bunk with her until I found you guys again.

That was a complete stroke of luck. I was headed down into the tunnels on Humboldt and Sherman when I ran into O’Neil. I recognized her from the photos you guys emailed me. She asked how long I’d been home for. Told her I’d been looking for you guys for the better part of a month. She told me she would have you guys come here for a few nights the next week. Then she gave me the number to Pop’s cell. First thing I did when I got back to Cait’s was to lock myself in the bathroom and call dad.”

A/N-- Exact same version on ffn.

#tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt splinter #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #tmnt mikey #tmnt 2016 #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2k16 #tmnt april #tmnt casey jones #the hamato chronicles

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