#author: didyee

[fiveguysfiction]

Valentine’s Day Blurb - Taron Egerton

(credits to @ ohmyegerton for the gif)

“Fuck,” you whispered, blowing a stray of hair out of your face. You had been at this for the last hour, but for some reason you hadn’t made any progress at all. No, not one bit. Why was cooking so difficult? It was basically just maths; adding ingredients together while also being aware of the time. Simple maths. You repeated to yourself, knowing damn well it didn’t help. Who were you kidding? You had never been the best at maths. No, it wasn’t your forte.

Stains of wet flour marked the beige counter as you looked around at the mess you had created. And to think you would have to clean it up all. You sighed again, exasperated as you stole a quick glance at the brownish and gooey substance next to you. Wasn’t it supposed to be more cream than brown? Also more liquid? That didn’t look liquid at all. You groaned, tilting your head back and gave the mix the same fate its previous friend had received. You took the cold bowl and dumped its content in the sink, watching the lumps of flour burst and be washed away.

You heard the distant echo of footsteps and you looked at the green numbers displayed on the oven. 07:48.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath. Taron was already up and all you had achieved in doing was make a mess out of the kitchen and waste food. You were nowhere near what you had planned. 

Taron always cooked for you and you had thought it a great idea to surprise him by making him breakfast on Valentine’s day. Turns out your daydreams were nowhere near reality.

“Hey, darling.” You jumped at the sudden contact of his palm on the small of your back, but relaxed instantly when your brain registered that it was your husband. He had gotten dressed and put on a pair of joggers and a white shirt.

“Hey, love.” He rested his lips again your forehead before scanning the kitchen.

“Mmm... I see you’ve redecorated the house. I have to say, I would’ve preferred for you to consult me beforehand.” A small smile tugged at his lips as you noticed the sparkles in his eyes. You stared back, a blank expression on your face. Your idiot of a husband thought he was being funny.

“Quit it, Mr. Egerton.” You rolled your eyes at him. Okay, you had thought his joke was pretty funny, but no way you were encouraging him.

“Here, let me help.” He chuckled and pecked your lips as he took hold of the whisk and the bowl you had so ‘gently’ emptied earlier. He rinsed them and placed himself near the eggs and the flour. You extended an arm and leaned on the counter next to him. “Come here.”

You looked at him as he did it so effortlessly. And he looked handsome doing it. He was sifting together the dry ingredients, while explaining to you what he was doing and why he was doing it. But your attention was directed to his lips, and his neck, and the mole on his neck, and now his green eyes.

This would be your third Valentine’s Day as a married couple. The both of you hadn’t planned anything special for the day. It was probably going to be one of those lazy days where you would just cuddle in the comfort of your home. And if you were completely honest, you quite liked the idea of having your husband to yourself for a day.

“Done.” He smiled at you as he handed over the bowl. He made his way to the other side of the kitchen, fetching, plates, a spatula and utensils and came back over to where you stood. A circle of blue flames came to life as Taron gave the oven control a flick of his wrist. Before he could do anything else you stole the spatula from his hands.

“That I can do.” You sighed happily, being content with finally being able to help.

“Okay, I’ll go wake Noah up.” His hand wandered around your back and he stole a quick kiss from you. His figure disappeared as he made his way to your son’s bedroom.

You were putting on the table, when you heard a tread of small footsteps and gibberish behind you. You smiled as you felt a pair of tiny arms wrap around your bare leg. You looked down to see your son Noah, smiling back at you, his little round cheeks making it impossible for you not to melt. 

“Hey little man!” You took him in your arms, smiling wide as he laughed, his two front teeth poking out from hiding behind his lips. “Did you sleep well?” Your voice came out in a high-pitched tone. “Did you sleep well?” You repeated, pecking your child’s cheek as his left hand found its way to his mouth. 

Taron watched the both of you from where he stood, leaning on the wall. He gave himself a slight push and came to join you.

“Now, who’s hungry?” He joined in the conversation, “Because I know this glutton is!” He pointed at himself before sitting next to you, Noah on his left side. Noah rose both of his hands in the air as he stared back at his dad, happily. You smiled, taking a bite of the strawberry you had stole from the bowl of fruits in the middle of the table.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, love.” He kissed your temple softly, before serving the three of you.

[fiveguysfiction]

Always - Rami Malek

“Honestly? Garlic pickles, spicy honey mustard and doughnuts?” You heard your husband’s voice, followed by the rustling of plastic bags.

“I hope you’re not gonna eat this all at once…” Rami inquired sarcastically, from behind you, a smug smile plastered on his lips. He had just arrived from an urgent run to the grocery store upon your request.

“Of course not. Only the pickles and the mustard. Then I’ll eat the powdered doughnuts, for dessert,” you taunted back, earning a slightly disgusted face from Rami. You found your way to the kitchen and thanked him when he gave you a plate.  

“What?” You turned around to look at him as he made his way between the unpacked boxes that swarmed the living room, a package of string cheese under his arm. You sighed when he raised an eyebrow at you. Okay, maybe in normal times you would’ve never eaten something like this, but it actually tasted pretty good. Well, according to you, at least. “Come on, stop judging! You should try it!”

“I know these are pregnancy cravings, love, but you know...” He sat down on the leather couch, the only real piece of furniture present in the house you two had recently bought. You took your place next to him, a plate of pickles in your right hand and the mustard jar in the other.

He groaned when his nose picked up on the strong vinegary scent. “I had forgotten about the smell… How can you even consider eating this?” He chuckled pulling at his string cheese.

“What are you talking about?” You put up your legs on his. “The smell is the best part.” You closed your eyes and moaned teasingly as you brought the cucumber close to your nose, before dipping it in the sauce and bringing it to your mouth. You burst out laughing when you saw the look in his eyes. You could see he was still doubting the functionality of your taste palette, but as disturbed as he was by it, he still joined in on the laughter. How could he not? You were pregnant with his child and you two had just moved in to a new house.

Everything was perfect and it was clear to him. Hopefully, he thought to himself, you felt exactly the same.

“Ah!” You sprawled your free hand across your swollen stomach. “I think the baby just kicked again!” You enthused when you felt a butterfly-like feeling in your stomach.

“Yeah… I’d start to kick too, if you tried to feed me this,” he said, his eyes roving over the serving of half-eaten pickles daubed in mustard. He laughed to himself, his shoulders trembling in mockery, to which you had responded with an offended ‘hey’ and an eye roll.

“Quit it, Malek!” You swatted him on the shoulder playfully. He took the plate from your hand before it could fall and put it on the floor, supressing a small smile. He sat back up and his hands joined yours as he scooted closer to you. His eyes dropped down to your enlarged belly. For a few moments, he felt transfixed. The reality that you two were having a child, dawned on him more and more each day.

“This is actually crazy. I can’t believe we’re having a kid. Let along a little girl,” He whispered, as if not to disturb your soon-to-be daughter. He looked up at you, his wide eyes locking with yours. And at that moment you could’ve sworn your heart had skipped a beat.

Thinking about it, it was indeed crazy. You and Rami had met a few years ago, thanks to a common friend and a night of celebration. Of course, it had been quite an awkward encounter due to you not being able to form a single coherent sentence without repeating it a hundred times. And the silences… Oh god, the silences. But, something about him had struck you. Maybe it was the fact that he had been so patient with you when you had struggled with your words? Or maybe it was the fact that, surprisingly, he had met your attempts to converse with an equal amount of awkwardness. After awhile, the both of you had just decided to ditch the party, not forgetting to say goodbye to your friend, and went for a walk in the middle of the night. And soon enough, your midnight rendezvous got replaced by entire days spent together. Then came the marriage, and now the kid.

“What do you think of Kareema?” His voice brought you back to reality. “It’s a good name, no?”

You quietly laughed to yourself when you realized you had been daydreaming. “It’s not too bad, but maybe we should keep on looking.” You shared your opinion with him. “What about…” You stopped mid-sentence, racking your brains for a name that would fit with his last one. “What about, uhhh, Alina?” You exclaimed. You gave up the idea when he blankly stared at you, silently sharing what he thought about the name with you. “Okay, okay. Never mind, I get it.”

You shook your head, to which he let out a chuckle.

“Finding a name for a child is a lot harder than I thought,” he sighed and you nodded.

“Maybe we should leave this for later…” You paused, “and actually finish the half-painted room upstairs before we have no choice, but to tell our guests that the patchy wall in our room is a fashion statement and not a result of our procrastination.” You smiled sheepishly.

Rami’s head fell back, as he laughed. “I think you’re right, love,” he replied, before he placed a light peck on your forehead and helped you get up.

***

“What about Sofia?” he said, as he brought his arm behind his head to support it. “Sofia Malek. I like it. And we could always decide on the middle name later. We still have three months to decide for sure.”

“Two months and a half…” you corrected him, shifting your weight on the mattress that Rami had brought upstairs after two unproductive hours of painting walls. He smiled boyishly at your need to be precise.

“Two months and a half, yes.”

You stayed silent for awhile before you spoke.

“The name… It’s perfect, Rami.” You fidgeted with your fingers. “It really is.” You turned your head to look right at him. Your eyes dropped to his lips and you leaned in, stealing a quick kiss. “I love it.”

“I can’t wait to see her,” he whispered, “I can’t wait to take care of her and cradle her in my arms.” He pushed himself on his elbows, and brought his face close to your stomach, his hand resting on your side. “Hey buddy!” he mumbled, his words slightly muffled by the proximity of his lips to your baby bump. “I want you to know that… Yes, we’re gonna have rough patches, but I’m with you, okay? Always! No matter what, and so is your amazing mother.” He finished, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses across your exposed skin. But they were nothing compared to the butterflies flying wild in your stomach.

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