Ducky and Daddy - Snippets

Brat Ducky

It started with her tone.

She huffed. She rolled her eyes. Ducky made that noise — the one she knew drove him crazy — when he reminded her it was time to start her bedtime routine.

He just gave her a look. The look.

But she wasn't done. Not tonight.

Ducky dragged her feet. Muttered. Even stomped a little on her way to the bathroom. She wasn't angry, not really. She was just... poking. She felt restless. Needing something. Testing the edges.

By the time she came out, she was pouting with real commitment. She said she "wasn't tired," that she "didn't need a bedtime," that she "deserved a break."

Daddy stayed calm, only raising his eyebrows. He watched her.

And then, without raising his voice, he said:

"Ducky. You've been pushing for ten minutes. And I've let you. But now I'm done letting."
She froze.

He sat on the couch then pointed at the spot in front of him. "Come here. And don't make me ask twice."

She shuffled over, nerves dancing. He pulled her forward gently, draping her over his lap. "You're not in trouble, baby. But you are going to get a reminder of who's in charge."

Smack. His palm landed in a steady, stinging rhythm. Not harsh. But enough to make her breath hitch. Enough to pull her back to herself and calm the storm she hadn't realized was brewing in her chest. She needed this.

"You don't get to use your mouth to test me, Ducky. You want my attention?" Smack. "You ask for it." Smack. "You don't push for it with a tantrum." Smack.

By the time it's done, her legs were wobbly and her eyes were damp. But her mind felt clear, settled,

He scooped her up and pulled her into his lap, holding her tight, rocking her slightly with his lips pressed to the top of her head.

"Brat all you want, little girl. I can take it," he murmured into her hair. "But I am always going to rein you back in."