Prompts: “You’re insane.” “You love me.” “Not right now I don’t.”
Pairing: Angel Reyes x Amy ( @witchygagirl)
Warnings: None really, just mention of being a single mom and how hard it can be
Word count: 608
You yawned as you walked into the living room, the sound of your children and Angel joking around bringing a smile to your face. Your dark auburn locks were messy, just having gotten out of bed. You were thankful that Angel had agreed to wake up early to take care of the kids and let you sleep in. Being a first responder was crazy and hectic year-round, but this last week had been unbelievable. You had been stretched far too thin and between work and trying to maintain a household with Angel on a run, things had been rough.
As a single mom, you were akin to a superhero, always finding a way to do what needed to be done, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t exhausting and that didn’t mean that you didn’t need help from time to time. You had gotten used to having Angel around to help out with everything and he was such a big help. Being seen as a step dad was something that had truly terrified him in the beginning, the Mayan worried that the children wouldn’t like him or that you wouldn’t feel that he was good enough to be around them. Those fears had been squashed early on, and now the four of you were one crazy yet happy family. You could hear your son and daughter giggling, no doubt at something silly Angel was doing.
Finally in the kitchen now, all three sets of eyes landed on you, both children and Angel saying good morning to you. You returned the greeting with a smile before walking over to Angel since he was closest. Pressing your lips to his, you shared a soft kiss, the children eww’ing at the sight. You and your Old Man chuckled, the children now bouncing in their seats, eager to get their good morning hug. Angel wrapped his arm around the curves of your waist, tugging you in for a hug before releasing you. Walking over to the dining table where your children were sat eating, you wrapped your arms around them and leaned down prepared to huge them when the breakfast on the plates in front of them caught your attention.
They had pancakes covered in sprinkles and whipped cream with two servings of syrup flooded on top of them.
“Angel!”
Turned away from the stove where he was cooking his and yours, he looked at you, spatula in hand as he tiled his head.
“What? Oh that? It’s Sunday!”
You shook your head, hugging your children before standing back up straight and shaking your head.
“You let them pour their own syrup?”
Angel smiled, shrugging lightly.
“It’s artistic freedom, Amy. I let them draw a picture with the syrup.”
“You’re insane.”
He grinned as he turned around to remove the last two pancakes from the griddle, placing them down on your plate and his before grabbing them both and facing you once more.
“You love me.”
You scoffed playfully, taking your plate from him, and sitting down at the table along with you children and him.
“Not right now I don’t, and I especially won’t later on when all of that sugar kicks in.”
The Mayan chuckled as he poured his own syrup and used his fork to cut into the pancakes.
“We’ll just take them to the park and or let them run around the backyard.”
Your brown eyes locked with his, love for him overwhelming despite the headache you knew would come from the children bouncing off the walls soon. He would be there to help you when the sugar rush kicked in though, and that you were thankful for.