5 Seconds of Summer Preferences

He does your daughter's hair

Credit (hot-af-irwin)
Ashton:

"Ash, I'm really running late and I need to leave in five minutes, would you please do Arabella's hair?" (Y/N) asks as she throws on her jacket

"Yeah, sure thing babe" I smile, kissing her on the cheek before she leaves for work.

"BELLA!!" I shout, not knowing where she's gonna come running from.

"DADDY!" I hear a screech and a patter of footsteps running up to me from behind, and a pair of arms wrap around my legs.

I hug her back, "Is daddy going to do your hair?"

"Where's mummy?" Arabella asks, pouting.

"She's had to go to work, she was running late. But don't worry, daddy can do your hair like mummy does" I smile

"Okay" She shrugs "Put it in a ponytail like mummy does!"

She stands in front of me, as I grab the comb, bobble and conditioning spray off the counter. I crouch down and spray her hair, making sure to cover her eyes.

I comb her hair, trying not to tug too much at the tangles.

"Ow!" She screeches

"Sorry, sweetheart. There's a big tangle here, let me get some more spray" I apologise

I spray some extra on the spot of the tangle, and just about manage to untangle it.

Once I'm sure her hair is tangle-free, I begin to put the ponytail in - remembering what (Y/N) previously said about how tight I should make it.

"There you go! All done" I announce, as she spins round to face me.

"Good work, daddy! You did well. Maybes even better than mummy!" She smiles

I gasp, "Even better than mummy?"

She nods, "But shh, don't tell her that! It's our little secret!"

"Oh okay" I wink, "It's our little secret"

Michael:

"So, you really think that you can do a French plait?" (Y/N) asks, raising her eyebrows.

I nod, "Yeah. I've seen you do them plenty of times"

She sighs, "Okay, well why don't we get our daughter in here so you can prove it?"
"What? No, we don't need to do that" I laugh

"No I wanna see you do it" (Y/N) persists

"DAKOTA!" She shouts

About two minutes later, Dakota opens our bedroom door.

"Yeah?" She grunts

She sure as hell is a grumpy fifteen year old.

"Dad reckons he can do a French plait" (Y/N) announces

"Can he fuck" Dakota spits

"Hey missy, language" (Y/N) warns

"Dad says shit like that all the time" Dakota complains, as I smirk to myself - she's definitely her dad's daughter.

"Yeah well maybes your dad's a bad influence" (Y/N) tuts

"I don't know, you always let me be a bad influence on you" I smirk

"Urgh! Guys, can we get back to the point of me being here?!" Dakota says in disgust

"Well, why don't you let dad put your hair into a French plait?" (Y/N) suggests

"He's not going anywhere near my hair" Dakota snaps

"Exactly" I giggle

"I'll give you twenty dollars" (Y/N) adds