Your Kid Goes On Tour With You

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(( A/N: There's smut in the Calum one. ))

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Luke:

Your four year old son hopped around, backstage, to What I Like About You. "Mummy, this isn't daddy's song, his band isn't good enough for it." Your son remarked, just as Michael's four year old came in. She was wearing a leather jacket, black and white printed leggings, (( a/n like the ones he had in the jingle bell ball, or the summertime ball, I can't remember. the one with the pin stripes. wait, he missed the jingle bell ball. the summertime ball. i'm too lazy to use the backspace lol )) a white shirt and Converse. "Daddy!" She squealed, waving to Michael, who, despite the outrageously loud music, looked over and waved. "Arabella!" Her mother groaned. "Finish eating, then go watch daddy preform." She scolded her, and Arabella rolled her eyes, before stomping away. For the remainder of the concert, Nathan sang along to the few lyrics he knew, and cheered for his father. "Thank you, Berlin!" Luke cheered, and you pulled your son to the side so the energetic boys could jog backstage without worrying about wheeling into one of the kids. The four boys had a combined wedding reception, and all four wives had found out they were pregnant around the same time. Luke sprinted backstage and picked up your son, and kissed his cheek. "Daddy, you're sweaty!" He squealed, pushing him away. Luke grinned like a fool, and pulled his son closer to him. He offered you an arm, and side hugged you, and planted a lingering kiss on your mouth. "There's more from where that came from." He whispered huskily into your ear, and your eyes widened, as Luke returned his attention to his son. You cleared your throat, and watched as your son leaned over, and tried to grab onto your arm. "Mummy, save me!" He called out, squirming in Luke's grip. "Mummy can't save you," Luke taunted, playfully, and you watched them horse around. "Daddy?" Calum's daughter, Charlotte, came in, twisting her curls in her hand. "Your Daddy's in the bathroom," You smiled, just as the recently widowed man entered the room, and Charlotte ran towards him. "Hi, baby," He grinned, and picked her up, and placed a kiss on her fore head. "Mummy!" Nathan screamed, and you saw that Luke and Nathan had shifted their fight into the dressing room, where Luke was blowing raspberries on Nathan's stomach. You laughed, and crossed over to the dressing room. Your son had tears pricking in his eyes, and was pouting. "That's enough," You said, gently, but sternly, to Luke. You picked Nathan up, and he buried his face in your collarbone, while rubbing his back reassuringly. "C'mere," Calum said, and took the little boy from your grip. Calum was like a second father to that boy.

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Michael:

5 Seconds of Summer was going on tour, but you had had a job to do, and they didn't let you leave very easily. You had to work 14 hours a day for the next three weeks so you could go on tour with the boys', so Michael had taken it upon him to take your 1 year old daughter with him. The first time you had left Michael with your daughter, he had ended up calling his mum because he didn't know how much formula to give her, and he was afraid he was going to poison her; and another time that day because he didn't know how to properly fit the diaper on, since you were always there to help him. Let's not forget the time the time when he forgot to pick her up from daycare, after he had been home for two hours. To say the very least, you were worried. You called every day and night, unless the time zone was weird and there was a concert. Luckily, Michael had the help from the other guys, and even though they wouldn't admit it, the security guys loved Y/D/N. They played with her on the tour bus, and during the show. They would take her out to parks when the guys' were hungover, busy or at the club. But otherwise, Michael tried his best to spend time with his baby girl. It was before the show, and backstage was pretty cold. He was wearing a slouchy and baggy sweater that could've fit the whole band at one time. If he let Luke that close him. The other boys' were out getting food, and Y/D/N was playing with her new teddy bear on the ground. "Cold, daddy!" She said, shivering. She could barely talk, and had a little lisp. "Cuddle with me." Michael said and opened his arms up, and your daughter giddily climbed up onto the couch and embraced her father. She giggled, and Michael hugged her back, and scanned the room for her leather jacket. He cradled her like a baby, and lifted her shirt up slightly, and blew a raspberry on her pale stomach. She had Michael's complexion, his nose and lips, and your hair and eyes. "Cold, daddy!" She repeated, pouting. She put her hands on her hips, and tilted her head to the side. Michael was too lazy to get up and get the jacket. So, he pulled his sweatshirt up, and pulled Y/D/N into it too. Her head was poking out of the neck, along with Michael's. She giggled, and Michael couldn't help the idiotic grin on his face. He heard the boys' chatting and coming down the hallway, and he had a stupid idea. "Your uncle's are coming, hide!" He whispered, and she wiggled down into the sweater. You couldn't see her head, but her feet were poking out from the bottom. When the boys' walked in, they couldn't tell who was giggling more; Michael or the lump.

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Ashton:

"Look it's daddy's drum kit!" You say, pointing to the instrument. Your son leaps up onto the stage and races toward the drum kit. He clambers onto the stool, and you stand beside him, lifting him onto the stool, and handing him Ashton's drumsticks that he used for practice. He swung his head, curls bouncing, and hit the drums. You watched, proudly, as Anthony made the same facial expressions that Ashton did when he drummed. You couldn't help but take a picture, and posting it on twitter. Ashton appeared beside you, and wrapped his arms around your waist, and kissed you passionately. "Mum, dad, get a room!" Your 7 year old groaned. "Someones been spending too much time with uncle Mikey," Ashton mumbled, chuckling. "He's just bitter, since Jashlyn (( a/n: DID YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE )) broke up with him, but she loves him too much. They'll get back together. " You smiled. "I ship them," Ashton giggled, and you kissed the corner of his mouth. Your son veered backward, still on the stool, and was about to hit the snare drum, when he toppled backwards. His face crumbled, and Ashton was at his side before a tear could fall down Anthony's face. He picked him up, his muscles rippling, and Anthony let out a shrill scream. "What happened?" Luke said, rushing around the corner, an assistant racing behind him to get his ear piece fitted. "He fell off of Ashton's drum stool," You said, taking the crying boy from Ashton. You swayed back and forth, rubbing his back, while he screamed. "Give him to me." Michael demanded, and took him from you. "Rockstar," He muttered, addressing your son. "Y-Yes?" Anthony sniffled. "Where does it hurt?" He asked, putting the boy on his feet, and kneeling in front of him. He looked into the little boy's eyes, and gently gripped his arm. Ashton slung his arm around you shoulders, and you couldn't help but smile at Michael's sweetness towards Anthony. He tapped the side of his head and Michael kissed it. "All better?" He asked, picking Anthony up and perching him on his hip. He sniffled and leaned his head against Michael's shoulder. "Yeah," He said, just as Michael rounded the corner and left to go back to the dressing room. Ashton fixed his drum kit, since Anthony had knocked off one of the tom-toms when he had fallen, and Luke got his ear piece fit, while Calum asked what happened since he was in the bathroom. Once everything was set straight, everyone who was on the stage went backstage. There, you found Michael letting Anthony play with Michael's first electric guitar.

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Calum:

Calum's soft lips brushed over the skin of your neck, and you let out a quiet whimper. He lightly bit your sensitive skin and you couldn't help but buck your hips to meet his, while a soft gasp tumbled past your swollen lips. You could feel him smirk against your skin as he pressed a kiss on your jawline and began to trail down you neck. He paced down your stomach and pursed his lips below your belly button. You let a moan escape your lips, and knotted your hands in Calum's hair. "Mummy!" You heard you daughter call out, running through the slim aisles of the tour bus. Calum let out an impatient groan and pulled himself up, and kissed your collarbone, your weak spot. "Yes baby?" You called out, trying to wrap the sheets around your torso. "You used to call me baby." Calum breathed into your ear and tugged the sheets off of your body, and you swatted his hand. You managed to tug his shirt on just as Y/D/N yanked the curtain to the bunk open. "Look what uncle Luke made me!" She squealed, gesturing to the flower crown that sat atop her brown, unruly, curls. "It's beautiful!" You smiled, and Calum buried his face in your neck. Luke came into the cramped aisle, his quiff almost squished against the ceiling. "The honeymoon phase was supposed to be over years ago," He smirked, and picked up your daughter. "And you were supposed to get a haircut years ago," Calum snapped, and pulled you towards him, wanting to cuddle. You laughed and gently pushed him away, and he whined. "Someone's cranky because he-" Luke started, but you glared at him. "Well, speaking of haircuts," Luke began, changing the subject faster then you can say Calyum "Why You Lookin' So Good" Hood, just as Y/D/N placed her flower crown on Luke. "I'm going to get a haircut," He said, nodding slowly, while Calum tried to close the curtain, but you pushed him. "Can I take Y/D/N?" He asked, understanding that Calum wanted them out. "Yeah, and get a centimeter or two off of her," You said, and Luke nodded. He put her down and helped her slip her pink leather jacket and converse. Once you heard the tour bus door shut, and Michael and Ashton arguing in the man cave, you slide the curtain, and darkness cradles the both of you. Thinking he'll be rejected again, Calum plays with the ends of your hair. You smirk and straddle him. You place both hands on either side of him to keep your balance, and you peel his shirt off of yourself. He places his hands on your hips, and his eyes have a mischievous glint. "Now, where were we?"

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(( A/N: WELL I WAS WATCHING MY WIFE AND KIDS WHILE I WAS WRITING THE CALUM PREFERENCE, AND MICHAEL WAS LIKE "SPIT ON MY HEAD AND SPANK IT" AND THEN JAY FELL OMF ))

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