One Direction | Preferences

He's An Uncle

He’s An Uncle

A/N: And I’m back! Thanks for waiting for me, guys, it means a lot, and I’m feeling much better and just, yeah, thanks for all your lovely messages, I really appreciate it. I hope you like this, feedback would be awesome :) Have a lovely day! X

Niall: He’s the uncle who’s always laughing, throwing Greg’s kids up in the air and always, always, catching them, zooming them around the room under his arm, the two similar laughs merging together as his nephew squirms on his lap, Niall tickling him. You watch from where you and Denise are talking, and the older woman gives you a secret smile, like she knows something you don’t. “He’s going to be a great Dad.” You nod, grinning at her, “I know, he’ll be absolutely amazing.” “And you’ll be a great Mum. The two of you will be great together.” You protest, but it’s a weak effort, because you can’t hide how your smile had widened and your heart had swelled at her words.

Harry: He’s the uncle who doesn’t hesitate with fairy costumes and peering under beds to check for monsters and cramming himself into princess beds designed for five year olds to read bedtime stories. He’s sweet and lovely and kind, and Gemma’s daughter has taken to calling him  ’the BFG’ after reading the story and making the connection with Harry’s height and his gentle personality. He’ll happily wave a pink wand in the air and hunch his body into a blanket fort, if it means his niece will dissolve into giggles and throw her arms around his neck and squeal about how silly he is. 

Liam: He’s the uncle practicing to be a Dad, Ruth’s daughter gurgling in her high chair as Liam waves the loaded spoon in circles, making airplane noises before landing the ‘plane’ in her giggling mouth. You watch from the other side of the table, the dining room full of yours and Liam’s family combined, hands linked over your seven month pregnant stomach, a soft smile shaping your lips as you realise that, yeah, Liam’s going to be a fantastic dad. 

Louis: He’s the uncle that will curl up with them in bed, and read storybook after storybook, until his niece and nephew are nodding off against his chest and his voice is raspy from how many characters he’s given life too and how many worlds he’s conjured up. And they’ll cling onto him as he tucks them up, (“Please don’t go, Uncle Lou, wait for us to go to sleep first.”) so he stays, sitting on the floor between the two beds as Lottie’s children drift into dreamland, safe with the knowledge that their uncle will look after them. 

Zayn: He’s the uncle who they love to hear sing. They beg and squeal and hang onto his jeans, (“Please Uncle Z, pretty please with sugar on top. Please sing for us. Please, please, please.”) until he laughs and picks the two girls up, holding the two on each hip as he carts them into the lounge room while you’re still greeting Doniya and her husband, chatting together as you walk into the lounge room where Zayn is sitting on the couch, the two girls watching with clasped hands as he sings for them, and neither you nor Doniya and her husband have the heart to interrupt.