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your daughter calls me daddy part 2


“Ditto. I love the absolute fuck out of ya. Come here.” He snuggles you closer. He hums Sinatra into your hair to help you fall asleep.

You woke up to calm silence, something that didn’t happen often on Christmas. You see Brendon asleep next to you, and you were quite possibly the only one awake. You climb out of bed, waking Brendon.

Groggily, he says, “Hey, babe.” You smile.

“Merry Christmas, Brendon.” He shoots up.

“It’s Christmas?” He asks.

“Mmhm, babe. Come on, get up.”

This was your fourth Christmas together, and it did sound weird when you thought about it, four years and he still hadn’t met your parents? Your parents loved Brendon from what you saw, you thought that they had made a good relationship in the last twenty-four hours. He got up, following you, as you walked out and he sat on your old couch. This couch had been through it all, every sick day, every laugh attack, everything. You sat down on him, cuddling into his chest. You pulled the soft blue blanket over the two of you and you didn’t say much, just cuddled for a while. Your mom walked out of her room, seeing the two of you, and grabbed your dad. The both of them said their respective good mornings and sat down on the couch. You started to hand out presents, and you kept all of yours in the tan chair, just like you always did as a kid.  There’s this small tiny one, smaller than, let’s say a rubik’s cube, and it’s very compelling.

“Go ahead, open everything up, Y/N, we will after you.” Your mother says.

You politely turn the offer around, “No, you can go first, I’m alright with going after.”

She accepts and opens her presents. A necklace, a record player from the 60’s and a few records, Frank Sinatra, Buddy Holly, all her favorites. You and Brendon gave the record player and the records, she always loved the sound much better than anything else, even better than a live show. Once she was done, you opened your presents, a Squier from Dad, he knew how much you loved them, a bracelet from Mom, that has “Fly me to the moon, then I’ll be able to show you how much I love you.” hand stamped in metal, and you had two presents from Brendon, the smaller-than-a-rubik’s-cube one, and the thin one.

“Brendon… you didn’t” You couldn’t stop smiling as you opened the thin one. It was a print out of a house. There was no way.

“I did.” He says, and he can’t stop smiling.

“Oh, but I didn’t get you a house!” You punch him in the arm softly. Your eyes are watering.

“That’s perfectly fine with me. What you got me is completely enough.” You had gotten him a new drum set and a set of guitars, a bass, an acoustic, and an electric.

“It sure doesn’t feel like it.” You laugh, and he does too.

“Open that one.” He points to the rubik’s cube sized one. You do exactly that, seeing it’s a fuzzy box. You open it. It’s a ring.

“Do you wanna marry me?” Brendon asks you, obviously nervous.

You’re crying and you can’t even tell.

“Of course, Brendon, of course!”

He sighed. “Thank god, I thought you might have said no.”

“How could I?” You smile, not even noticing your parents filming.

“Brendon… a house and this? How did you?”

“I just did. I love you, Y/N.”

At breakfast, you had cinnamon pull apart bread, and then you had today only to go around your hometown, basking in all of it’s gloried strip malls and the city, with all its skyscrapers and art. You had stopped at Homer’s for some ice cream and a burger for lunch, then went ice skating at the ice rink. You were driving downtown to get to the world’s best view, Navy Pier. You truly loved Brendon. You were wearing a dress, and it was Brendon’s favorite. Red, with a black lace top half. You were driving, you knew this town, so much better. He placed his hand on your upper thigh, needing you. You look at him, at the stoplight.

“Brendon.”

“Yeah?”

“Would you rather get a hotel room instead of going to Navy Pier?”

“Completely.”

You take the next left and do a legal u-turn, or what you call a Michigan Left, which is so much smarter than everybody says, and you get to the Hyatt. You park your car, the tiny ass clown car you have a love hate relationship with, and run into the hotel.

“Excuse me, do you have any open rooms we could take for the night?”

Brendon’s starting already, kissing your neck.

You palm him, through his nice jeans, to get him to stop. He does, wanting more.

“I like being engaged to you.” You look at him, and kiss him.

“We’ve got room 404 open, rate’s gonna be 90 bucks, or we have a penthouse open for 245 a night.”

You opened your mouth to take room 404, but Brendon interjects, squeezing your ass.

“We’ll take the penthouse, thank you.” He hands the man his credit card.

“Bren-”

“No, babe. My treat.”  He kisses you on your forehead.

You smile. The man behind the counter gives Brendon his card back, and explains how to use the key to get into the room. He explained the food service, and everything else. He was holding onto you like he would die if he wasn’t.

Once the guy finished talking, Brendon took you by the hand and led you down the hall, going up to the elevator. Once the bell dinged, you walked into an empty elevator. 35 floors, it had said.

“Brendon, you didn’t have to get the penthouse.”

“I wanted to get it for you, doll.”

“Or the house. Really, I’m very grateful, but you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to get you everything, Y/N. You deserve it. You need somewhere to go after living on a bus for six months, that is not my apartment or yours in Chicago. I couldn’t bear not seeing you everyday.” He whispered that last part into your hair.

“Oh god, I love you, I love you.” You half whispered half spoke.

“I love you so much, Y/N. You’re the only one I love, the only one I’ll ever love.”

“I love you, Daddy.” Into princess mode you go. You giggle.

He pounds his lips into yours.

“God, princess. I love this dress. But, it must come off.”

He spins you around, unzipping the dress, and letting fall to the ground, pushing you against the door. He rubs you through your underwear, it being soaked.

“Who made you this wet, doll?”

“You did, Daddy.”

“Oh, princess.”

He takes his other hand and unclasps your bra. You always were impressed that he could do it with one hand, you couldn’t even do that.

He takes one of your breasts into his mouth and bites lightly on your nipple.

You moan.

“Brendon…”

“Kitten, that’s not what you’re supposed to call me. Do you need a punishment?”

“Y-yes.” You continue kissing him, loving every bit of him.

“You’re going to have marks all over you proving that you’re mine, y/n.”

He unties his tie sets it aside, like he was going to need it later. He sits on the bed, patting his lap, waiting for you to come over.
“You’ve been a bad little kitten, you need to be punished. Ass up.” He says, and you obey, laying on his lap, stomach down, and your ass is indeed up. He smacks it hard. “Count.”

He smacks a second time, lighter.

“Two.” You say, voice hoarse.

Another.

“Three.”

The next was hard.

“Four.”

Lighter.

“Five.”

You could feel his hard-on through his pants, and it needed attention.

He lifts you off of him, unbuttoning his pants, and pulling them down with his boxers. He grabs your hair, pulling you to him. You flip your Y/H/C hair to one side, and you suck him off, going completely down. He throws his head back, and he’s moaning your name.

“I-I’m gonna cum.” he says from above you.

You keep going, feeling him twitch in your mouth, and a sharp stop of his breath. “Y/N!” He yells, spilling inside of your mouth. You swallow, and he picks you up, putting you onto the bed. He rips your panties off and his head disappears between your legs.  He’s licking your clit perfectly in rhythm. Fucking drummers, dude. You’re moaning his name louder than ever. He slips a few fingers in you, trying to get you to come. You moan your way through your orgasm, He marks your body everywhere, loving the shit out of you. He pulls you closer to him, and he puts his hands on your hips to keep you from moving.

“You alright, Doll?” He asks.

“Mmhm.” You nod, clutching the sheets, waiting for Brendon to just fuck you already.

He keeps kissing you everywhere, making marks anywhere he desires.

“Brendon can you just fuck me?”

He stops kissing and looks up at you, confused. You were never that pushy.

“Huh? Yeah, babe.” It took him a sec to calm down.

He thrusts into you and waits for you to adjust. You do, and he continues, whispering sweet nothings into the atmosphere you two are lucky enough to share. His thrusts get sloppier as you moan louder. “Oh my god, y/n!” He yells in complete ecstasy, finishing, his hands gripping your hips so hard. He stops, slowly and pulls out, You try to stand up. You do not stand up.

“Brendon I love the shit out of you,” you laugh, “You fucked me so hard I can’t stand up.” He comes over to you, helping you get under the covers. You smile, waiting for him to get in bed too, so you can snuggle into him and sleep.

“Merry Christmas, Brendon. Love you so so much.”

“Ditto. I love the absolute fuck out of ya. Come here.” He snuggles you closer. He hums Sinatra into your hair to help you fall asleep.