ASHTON: You sighed, exhausted from your long day at work, and dropped your bag on the bench by the door. You walked into the kitchen to rinse out the travel mug you took with you that morning and tossed your car keys onto the counter behind you. When you heard squealing down the hall and remembered that you left Ashton home with your daughter all day, you followed the sound. When you saw them, you leaned your shoulder against the entryway, watching as Ashton sat criss-cross on the floor of your living room, the bongos he bought from your honeymoon to the Bahamas in his lap. "Do you like the bongos, baby girl?" He asked your toddler, who'd just learned how to stand.
She stood with wide eyes and a big grin, clapping her hands and bouncing up and down at her daddy. She babbled a bit, causing Ashton's smile to match hers.
"You can have a turn, princess," Ashton encouraged. He set the bongos on the rug, leaning forward and capturing your daughter in his large hands, pulling her into his lap. He sat her down and painstakingly held her wrists after placing the drums in front of the two of them. "Just like this," he said.
"And you were worried you wouldn't be a good father," you piped up, moving from the entry to the spot right beside your husband. His shoulder made a wonderful pillow for your tired head to lay on. "She loves you so much, Ash. Almost more than I do," you smiled, kissing him.
"Hey!"
"I said almost, silly."
MICHAEL: "PIPLUP, I CHOOSE YOU!" yours and Michael's oldest son yelled in the living room of your house. You heard an attempted-penguin sound come from your youngest boy and both of them erupted into a fit of laughter.
Just then, Michael came in from the garage, sliding his beaten up guitar case onto the messy kitchen table and letting his arms snake around your waist while you hovered over the oven. "What's cooking, good looking?"
"Thing One wanted ice cream and Thing Two wanted pizza--"
"That's my boy."
"But Thing Three said macaroni and chicken nuggets, and we all know Thing Three gets what Thing Three wants," you said, placing your hands on top of Michael's, which laid on your showing baby bump.
"I really want it to be a girl this time," he whined, kissing your shoulder. "We have two mini-me's, and I want a mini-you to be just as beautiful."
"Mikey, what color is Jigglypuff?"
"Pink."
"What color are the blankets they usually swaddle girls in?"
"Pink!" he answered, eyes hopeful.
"So that means..."
"We're having a girl?!"
"We're still having a boy."
"DAMMIT!"
CALUM: Loud screeching came from the nursery of your month-old child. You'd been up every night since you brought your darling daughter home. Calum helped you in the beginning, but he had to tour your home country with the rest of the band for album promotion. But boy, did you need him more than ever.
"Baby, PLEASE, stop crying," you begged in a whisper. Tears of your own started stinging your eyes. You did the only other thing you could think of: you called Calum.
"Y/N, it's three in the morning, what are you doing up?" He asked. Your daughter wailed in response. "Oh, that makes sense."
"Calum, I can't get her to sleep, I've tried everything. She's fed, bathed, changed, and just needs to sleep. Can you sing to her, Cal? I'm running out of options."
"Okay, Princess, please relax. Put me on speaker and I'll sing to her."
You followed Calum's instructions, pressing the speaker phone button on your mobile and bouncing your daughter as he sang "Beside You". Next thing you knew, at the start of the first chorus, the song didn't sound so distant and the arm pulling you close felt familiar. Calum kissed your cheek, pausing the serenade to take your (much calmer) child and sending you to sleep. By the end of the song, the bed dipped down, the house was quiet, and you cried stressed and happy tears into his chest.
"The boys planned this. I was miserable without my favorite girls," He whispered, a strand of your hair twirling around his finger.
"My god, Calum Thomas Hood, I am so hopelessly in love with you."
LUKE: The red digits on your alarmclock read 4.23 when Luke reluctantly released you from your tight embrace and trudged down the stairs to grab something small to eat before he met the boys at the airport. He reached into the cupboards to pull down the box of Lucky Charms and grab a bowl for himself when he heard the silverware drawer slowly slide open. "Hey, buddy, what're you doing up this early?" Luke asked your four year old son, watching him as he slid into his seat at the kitchen table.
"I wanted to see you before you left me."
Luke's heart clenched. "You know I'll be coming back, right buddy?"
"Yeah, but I heard mommy say it won't be for a very very long time," he sighed. His right blue eyes grew sad and worried. "Please don't send me back to bed, Daddy. I'll go after we eat breakfast, I promise."
Luke and your son exchanged sad smiles. "Alright, buddy. But don't tell Mommy I let you stay up."
Your son clapped his hands--quietly, as to not wake you up--and Luke grabbed another bowl from the cabinet.
When 4.56 rolled around, Luke carried little Hemmo back to his room. "Alright, buddy. Daddy's gotta leave now, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love you, okay?"
Your son nodded, clutching the back of Luke's shirt tighter. "I'll miss you, Daddy."
__________
*I got the idea for this topic because I've spent so many of my weekends this year babysitting and the kids were freaking adorable every night. Thank you to them for being my inspirations, and to you for reading them. I also chose this one because sixteen years ago tomorrow, I was a new baby <3*
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5 Seconds of Summer Preferences
FanfictionSo, I've read these a lot and decided "Hmm, I could write these!" and that's what I did... I wrote these :) Requests available through my inbox. Please feel free to send them, as well as leave comments for me! Dedications to those who request (if mu...
