larrys_love_child (A Larry MPreg Story)

CHAPTER 5

A few of you thought Harry was pregnant last chapter.. But nope. Just the flu.

I hope you enjoy this chapter and don't let it make you hungry ;).

I hope you enjoy loves.

xx-Mystery-xx

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-Braelynn's Point of View-

Dad was better after being sick for two days. It was torturous for me to watch him. Dad was so miserable both days. Continually making trips to the bathroom to throw up everything he's eaten in his past lives and present life, coughing his organs out, among other stuff. Okay, maybe that's a bit over exaggerating, but you get the point.

Today he's feeling better, thankfully, and now he's currently making lunch for everyone.

Almost everyone was supposed to come here. It was a celebration for One Direction winning eight VMA's. The show is this Friday, and me, Dad, and Papa are all going along with Briana, just because she's my 'mom', Uncle Liam and Uncle Niall. Their wives are staying home with their children since they're all under five years old.

Today, however, everybody is coming over, including, Briana and her actual husband, and my grandmas, Uncle Liam's mum, and Uncle Niall's parents. Geoff, Liam's dad, passed away not too long ago from a stroke. Liam, bless him, got over it quite quickly and well, having screwed in his head that everything happens for a reason and that Geoff is in a better place now.

"Dad, what are you making?" I yelled, from where I was sitting on the couch.

"Uh, I was thinking fajitas and quesadillas for the little ones," Dad replied. "Of course, the ones who can eat that." I laughed at him.

"You want any help?" I offered.

"Uh, sure, you wanna come chop up the vegetables for me?" He asked. I didn't answer, but instead, stood up and walked into the kitchen.

Dad set aside the peppers, onion, knife and cutting board for me, so I just slid my way up beside him and got to work.

"Don't chop your fingers off, don't want to have to take you to the hospital now," Dad joked. I rolled my eyes and stopped chopping as I looked at him.

"I'm not Papa, Dad, I can handle some kitchen utensils," I told him seriously, turning back to the vegetables. Dad rolled his eyes and turned back to the steak and chicken he was frying up. Steak for the fajitas and chicken for the quesadillas.

"You about done there Brae?" Dad asked. I ignored his question and went ahead and put the bell peppers and onions in the steak, taking the wooden spoon and giving it a mix. "I'll take that as a yes."

I nodded in confirmation and checked the chicken, deeming it done and stealing a piece before laying out a tortilla shell. I placed some shredded cheddar cheese on it and then the cut up chicken before placing another layer of cheese and another shell on top. I quickly made the rest while Dad started to fry them up in the pan. As he did that, I finished up the fajita mix, getting a pan of Spanish rice started.

"Are you doing guacamole, salsa and chips too?" I asked, dumping the completed fajita mix into a serving bowl. Dad nodded as he finished up the last two quesadillas.

"I made that last night. It's in the fridge. Could you start making the table? Like, place the dishes and stuff?" Dad asked.

I nodded and flicked off the burner for the rice and grabbed the bowl of steak and peppers before heading into the dining room. I placed the bowl down and walked back into the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing two bowls that looked like they held guacamole and salsa.

I set those on the dining room table before I went to the pantry and grabbed a couple bags of tortilla chips.

"Dad! Do you know where the big chip bowl is?" I yelled, looking in the bowl's place but not seeing it there.

"Uh, dishwasher I think," he yelled back, and I heard the dishwasher being opened and closed, after something was grabbed out of it.

Dad walked into the dining room carrying the platter of quesadillas and the chip bowl and set them down before walking back into the kitchen.

I arranged the bowls and stuff in an order that made sense.

"Lou!" I heard Dad yell.

"What?" Papa yelled back.

"Come help me and your daughter set the table!"

"Fine," Papa agreed, making an appearance a minute later. "What needs to be done?"

"We need the plates, and silverware, cups and drinks, the rice, chips need to be poured into the bowl, um," Dad started, looking at me. "Tortilla shells, sour cream and taco sauce needs put out as well, along with serving spoons."

We all divided the stuff between us and got it done within ten minutes, stepping back to admire our work.

"Pleasing," Papa said. Dad smacked his arm. "Ow, what was that for?"

Dad shrugged and made his way to his and Papa's room, probably to change out of his pajamas.

"Braelynn-Juliet," Papa said softly. I looked at him expectantly. "I haven't had a hug from you all day."

I smiled and wrapped my arms around my father, basking in the warmth of it. Suddenly another pair of arms were wrapped around us and we had a family group hug.

We all stayed like that until the doorbell went off. Dad was the one to go check it while me and Papa went to go sit in the living room.

"Hey mate, thanks for coming," I heard Dad greet.

"Who would I be not to come?" The Irish accented voice of Uncle Niall replied.

"Hi Amy, little Tyler and Meghan," Dad said, getting that obnoxious baby voice.

"Hey Tommo, and Tommo junior," Uncle Niall said once he had walked into the living room. I smiled and stood to go hug him. "God Braelynn-Juliet, you're taller than me."

"Papa doesn't like that," I winked. I could practically hear Papa roll his eyes.

"Take a seat Niall, you too Amy," Papa said, looking at Uncle Niall and Amy, his pretty brunette haired, hazel eyed wife.

They both took a seat right next to each other and before I could even say my full name, Braelynn-Juliet Rosaline Tomlinson, I was attacked by two adorably small children.

"Brae-Julie!" The two-year-old Horan twins cheered, at the same time, in the weird twin way I've seen my twin aunts and uncle do.

"Hello Tyler, Meghan," I smiled, bending down to their height.

As per usual, they both grabbed a handful of my curly locks and played with it, twisting it carefully around their fingers, as to not hurt me.

"So pretty," Meghan gasped, and then grabbed at her own straight blonde hair, like she was comparing the two.

"So are you little cootie," I told her, poking her on her tiny pale button nose.

"What about me? Am I pretty?" Tyler asked, looking at me with big hazel eyes.

Tyler and Meghan both had significant differences, due to being fraternal twins. Tyler was a straight haired brunette with large hazel eyes, a button nose and tan skin. Meghan was a straight haired blonde girl with bright blue eyes, a button nose and pale skin.

"You, young Tyler, are handsome," I said to him, fixing the part of his brunette locks.

"But I wanna be pretty," Tyler complained, stomping his foot, making the adults in the room chuckle at him.

"Alright love, don't fret. You can be pretty, you're very pretty."