length: 600 words
warnings: none
requested: no
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When Mat woke you up before the sun had risen, you thought something was seriously wrong. It was three am, so if it wasn't important, it meant that Mathew was a lunatic.
Your husband was a lunatic.
"Babe, babe, babe," he whispered repeatedly, frantically shaking your shoulder until you turned over to face him.
"Is the house on fire, Mat?"
"What? No," he said, confused.
"Then why on earth are you waking me up at three am?" you groaned, rolling away from him.
"Okay, hear me out. We're having a girl and I don't know how to braid hair, so you need to teach me."
"Why did I marry you?" you murmured into the pillow.
"Because I'm cute," Mat laughed. "But seriously, I want to be a good dad."
"You do realise we have three months until she's born and even then it will be a while before she has enough hair to braid, right?"
"Please, (y/n), this matters to me," he pleaded, pecking your cheek.
"Fine, but you have to set up the nursery tomorrow then."
You groaned again, climbing out of bed to switch on the light and grab your brush and hair ties from the bathroom. Quickly brushing through the knots, you came back through to Mat who was sitting on the bed cross-legged, looking like an excited puppy.
Sitting in front of him, you demonstrated how to braid hair and Mat stared in awe before sitting behind you to try it himself. You talked him through it and soon enough your hair was in a half-decent braid. Mat however, was not satisfied and continued practicing for the next hour while you tried not to drift off.
"Matty, babe, I'm sorry but I really just want to sleep now."
"Okay," he smiled, "but can you sleep on your side so I can keep practicing?"
This man was going to be the death of you. Lying down on your side, you felt Mathew's hands slide into your hair and you fell deep asleep.
The next (same) day you woke up to an empty bed. Padding down the kitchen, you found Mathew on the couch on his iPad. Quietly walking behind him, you glanced down to see what he was looking at and you sighed. He was watching a tutorial for doing fishtail braids.
"Mat, honey, what exactly are you doing?"
"Learning," he grinned, grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it.
"Really?" you questioned, "Because I remember you promising me something when you woke me up at three am."
At that Mat put down the iPad and climbed over the back of the couch to stand in front of you. "I'm just trying to be a good dad."
"That's great," you said sarcastically. "It's fine that our daughter won't have anywhere to sleep because at least her dad can do braids for her when her hair is long enough, right?"
"Fine, fine, I'll do it."
"That's why I love you."
"Because I listen to you?"
"Exactly," you giggled, kissing his cheek.
"I would kiss you, but I've got a crib to build. No distractions, you know."
Reaching for Mat's t-shirt, you pulled him in, pressing your lips to his. As he groaned against your lips, he slipped his fingers into your hair and began moving them deftly.
"Mat, what is wrong with you?" you pulled away, glaring at him.
"What?"
"Were you seriously trying to braid my hair while we were kissing?"
"Pfft, what, no," he scoffed before bursting out laughing.
Yep, your husband was most definitely a lunatic.
