5sos imagines

How he is with your young son

Calum

I opened my eyes and sighed at my nauseous stomach.

"I can't believe I'm still getting morning sickness." I mumbled, holding my bump as I slowly sat up. I stood up and walked out onto the landing before walking down the stairs.

"Cal? Noah?" I called out, looking for my husband and son. I looked around and saw that the back doors were open. I walked towards them and smiled as Noah and Calum were kicking a football about. I giggled at the sight of Noah trying to kick it, his small feel barely moving the ball.

"Morning, babe." Calum smiled.

"Morning, mummy." Noah squealed.

"Morning." I returned, leaning against the doorway as my hands rested on my bump.

"How long have you two been out here?" I asked.

"Couple hours." Calum shrugged.

"Hours?" I scoffed.

"Yeah. My son loves football, just like his dad." He smiled as he kicked the ball back to Noah. Noah tried to kick the ball, but fell down instead.

"Oh no." I mumbled, knowing what was about to come. A small cry escaped Noah's lips before he started to wail, tears already running down his face.

"Aww, don't cry, come here, buddy." Calum sighed as he jogged towards Noah and picked him up.

"Come on, buddy, show mummy and daddy how much of a big boy you are, and stop crying." Calum encouraged, gently bopping him up and down. Noah sniffed slightly, hiccupping as he rubbed his wet eyes.

"Good boy, good boy." Calum nodded, kissing his cheek. Noah looked at my stomach.

"I want to say morning to baby." He spoke, pointing at my bump.

"Well, I'm sure baby will appreciate a good morning from his big brother." Calum smiled at him before putting him down. Noah giggled as he ran up to me and hugged my bump. I hugged him back, biting my lip and smiling at Calum.

"Morning, baby." Noah spoke, puckering his lips and kissing my bump.

"Let's get some breakfast, little guy." Calum smiled, taking his hand and walking him back inside.

Luke

"I'm home!" I yelled as I shut the front door and stepped out of my heels. I looked around.

"Luke, where are you?" I yelled.

"In the kitchen!" I sighed as I walked through.

"What in god's name!" I gasped at the state of the kitchen. Cupboards were coming off of their hinges, food was on the ceiling and several empty packets of spilt food lay on the counters and floor. I looked at Luke.

"What the fuck happened here?!" I exclaimed.

"Our son happened." He spoke.

"He's three, how the fuck did he do all of this?" I scoffed.

"He wanted to make brownies, I said no because I knew that he'd need my help and I was in the middle of writing a new song. I hear a crash, come in here, turns out he'd tried to start by himself. I yelled at him, he screamed the house down, and now he's on timeout in his room." He explained. I sighed.

"What are we going to do with that boy?" I breathed.

"Well, first things first, we need to talk to him." He shrugged. I nodded before heading up the stairs.