#62- He Has a Cute Moment With Your Daugther
More daddy prefs way hey, there is gonna be 2 or 3 three more idk
Ashton: You still couldn't believe that Ashton had convinced you to come along on the world tour with your daughter. The three of you were cramped into the bus most nights and it seemed as if your daughter's phase of playing hide and seek at the venues had only gotten worse, giving you several moments of panic despite it only being the third show. You hold tight to her hand as you watch the boys perform from the side of the stage. You roll your eyes as Michael says an inappropriate joke and then glance at your daughter. She wears a huge smile, her teeth just coming in. 'At least she doesn't know what she's laughing about,' you think. "Hey Michael! Not all of us are over the age of ten in this arena tonight!" Ashton shouts up to him. Michael puts his hand to his mouth. "Shit... I mean shoot. I forgot! Sorry guys, Ashton's daughter is here tonight, standing side stage with his wife. Someone throw a bottle at me if I cuss again!" The crowd laughs and then begins to chant, "Bring her out! Bring her out!" Michael gives Ashton a look and he nods at me. I hesitate, but she is already toddling out toward her daddy. He leans back from his drum set and reaches out toward her, grasping her in his arms and swooping her up in a giggling fit. The crowd lets out an 'Awww' and you can't help but to blush a little. Ashton hands your daughter a drumstick and with the stick in his other hand begins to tap on the drums, whispering in her ear. She follows his lead and smiles at him, feeling proud of herself. He grins back widely, kissing her. Michael turns back toward the audience. "Hey Ash, we're replacing you with the kid." The crowd laughs and Ashton looks out toward you, smiling uncontrollably.
Luke: "Are you sure you're alright?" You ask, lingering in the doorway. Luke embraces you. "I'll be fine. You act like I've never watched her alone before." You glance back at your daughter, coloring innocently at the table. "I don't worry about her. I worry about you giving into her every demand." Luke roles his eyes. "She's my little princess, you know that, but I don't spoil her that badly..." You give him a look. He laughs. "Get out of here. Go have your girl's night." You plant a kiss on Luke's lips and wave goodbye, walking slowly toward your car, expecting him to run out asking where the mac and cheese is. It has been five years and you still worried so much. You shrug it off and pull out of the driveway, stealing a look in the window. Luke is helping your daughter color, conversing with her about something. He would be fine, you assure yourself. But when the end of the night rolls around, you are eager to come home to your husband and daughter. You practically jog up the steps to the house. You open the door and look for the two of them, no where to be found. "Luke? Honey? I'm home!" You call out. You hear a mumble from somewhere in your daughter's room and then a giggle. "You said a bad word." You smirk, walking back toward them. What were they up to? When you peek your head through the door into the bright pink room, you see your daughter sitting across from Luke who is wearing a tiara. He grins innocently at you. Your daughter holds up a bottle of nail polish. "Look!" She exclaims. Luke stands quickly, removing the tiara. "You don't spoil her?" You ask him. Luke kisses you, removing his tiara and putting it on your head. "Hey," he says, "it's hard not to obey the princess's commands."
Michael: Your daughter was extremely fussy at the wedding reception. You could understand it, but not many of the guests could, and every five minutes when she began to talk loudly, voicing her new vocabulary, you wished that Michael had taught her the difference between concert voice and indoor voice. He snickers at her when she calls for him, once again grabbing the attention of all the people sitting around you. "Daddyyy," she whines, "I'm hungryyy." Michael tries to suppress his laughter and you shoot him a look. His smile drops slightly. "It's almost over. Come here, sit with me." She curls up into his lap, playing with his tie that took him so long to do, and wrinkling it up. You smile at the two of them. When the vows are said and done, Michael holds her up on his shoulders so she can eagerly throw the rice at the bride and groom. She giggles and you can see her father in her for the millionth time since she was born. Michael keeps her on his shoulders for a while longer so that she can get a good view of all everyone dressed for the party, all the way up until she finds Luke's son to play a game of tag with. "Excuse me miss, but may I have the honor of this dance?" Michael bows down to you, reaching his hand out. You laugh and check that your daughter is okay and let Michael lead you around the dance floor. It isn't long before your daughter notices her daddy has moved and interjects, pushing between the two of you and stepping on Michael's feet so that she can dance too. You step back for a minute, watching as the two of them laugh together before your daughter reaches out again for your hand.
Calum: "Please stop crying." Calum tries to hush your daughter to sleep. The toddler lies limply in his arms and her lets out exhausted sobs. Calum glances at you, looking as if he's about to cry himself. You rub your eyes. You hated it when your daughter was sick. If she couldn't fall asleep, no one in the house could either. "Are you sure you don't want me to take her?" You ask, reaching out to pull her from Calum. "No!" She screams in protest, clinging harder to Calum's neck. He smiles weakly and kisses you. "Looks like that's a negative. Get some shut eye, babe. No use in both of us staying up." You touch his arm sympathetically and make sure to keep the door to your bedroom open a crack. You can hear Calum trying his best to console the four year old. "Should we read a book? You always love this book-" A scream in reply. "Alright, alright." Calum says quickly, throwing something. "How about a ride? Want daddy to take you around the neighborhood?" Another scream. Calum gives in. He begins to sing to your daughter, softly so you can barely make out the words, an old lullaby. Slowly, the crying begins to come to a stop and you are able to drift off, Calum's voice becoming clearer and clearer. In the morning, you wake up to find Calum cuddled in bed with your daughter, the two of them sound asleep. You smile and decide to let them dream.
