Squeak

Tatted Up

Erik

"Did you have fun on our first Triple D?" I asked Izabel as we returned to the hotel.

"Muffin and me had the bestest time!" she squealed. "I can't wait to show Mommy and Papa all the stuff you got me!"

Are you going to tell them how you forced me to buy you shit under duress? Doubt it.

"And-and-and then, we get to go on our train ride tomorrow!"

"Mhm," I hummed.

"What's the matter, Daddy Erik?"

"Nothing, Squirt."

"You're fibbing!" she accused.

"How would you know?"

"Because you look like this," she said, mimicking my serious face.

"How can anything be wrong when I'm with my twin?" I asked with a smile, gaslighting the hell out of my own child.

"Aht, aht, aht, Daddy Erik. We're not twins—we're triplets!" she exclaimed, foisting Muffin in my direction. I held back a grimace.

"You're right, Squirt."

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, Izabel."

"You're quiet...too quiet. You're never this quiet," she pushed, sounding just like her mother.

"How would you know? We've only known each other for a little less than a week."

"Mommy told me that you like to hear yourself talk, and that's when you're happiest."

And your mother's happiest when she's face down and ass up, but I guess I can't say that.

"Your mother's wrong."

Izabel gasped. "Mommy's never wrong!"

"Okay, Bobby Boucher."

"Bobby, who?" she asked with a curious head tilt.

"Don't worry about it. It's from a movie before both of our time. Your mother's wrong because I'm happiest when I'm with you." I chuckled when color warmed her cheeks.

Adorable.

"Don't turn bashful on me now," I teased as she rubbed her cheeks furiously.

"That's not fair. You're making me blush," she protested as we entered the hotel lobby.

"Everything is fair game, little one."

"Ooo, Daddy Erik! Can we have Kaffee and Kuchen?" she shrieked, pointing towards the café.

I paused and considered my options. It was four in the evening, and me and the brat had been eating junk food all day, and knowing the mother of my child, she'd be upset if I ruined Izabel's appetite.

"Not this time, baby. Your mother wouldn't be too happy if you didn't eat dinner tonight."

Izabel looked up at me, and a recognizable slow smirk slid across her lips. "Didn't you say that what you say goes?"

"I did, and I'm slowly regretting it as each second passes."

"So...that means, if you say we can have Kaffee and Kuchen then it's fine. I want Black Forest cake!"

She skipped towards the café, leaving me with the bags and wondering where she learned this manipulative behavior from.

"She gets this bullshit from her mother."