Timeless [Sting X Reader] || Third Book

5 : Twelve Letters, "Two Criminals"

[ a/n ]:

before starting the chapter, i'd like to point out that this book has reached 1, 000 reads :D

i just want to give you all a giant-ass thank you, and i hope you, dear reader, will decide to keep reading until the very end of this book that i started writing just for the hell of it :D

so cheers to more readers~!!

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» sting's point of view

"Daddy!"

God, I thought to myself, turning over, at least five more minutes before reality slaps me across the face.

"Daddy! Wake up!"

The voice was much more urgent than last time, and I registered it as Lance's. His light slaps to the cheek and the weight sitting on my stomach were, ultimately, what urged me to get up.

I slowly opened my eyes, hissing softly as the bright, early-morning light made me shut them again. It was too goddamn early for this.

"Da-"

"I'm up, I'm up," I announced, a groan following after, "you don't need to yell anymore, Lance."

Lance rolled off of me and landed on the ruffled bed sheets, I rolled to the side to try and reach out for my shirt, that I had placed on the headboard before I started snoozing, only to fall off the edge. Fantastic.

I deemed a certain twelve-letter word appropriate for the situation, considering I was tired and sleepy. So, I allowed it to escape the confines of my vulgar mouth.

"Motherfuc-" I quickly stopped myself before the remaining three letters slipped out, "fudge."

I spun my head to face Lance, praying that he hadn't caught on.

Lance knew. It was evident in his expression; his mouth was slightly open, his [e/c] eyes that (Y/N) had passed down widened as his eyebrows were raised, nearly reaching his golden bangs.

"Daddy! You said a bad word! You said a bad word!" he repeated, jumping up and down as he pointed his index finger towards me.

"I didn't," I said, attempting to defend myself, "I almost said it. That doesn't count."

"I'm still telling mommy!" Lance countered.

Geez, this kid. I could already picture (Y/N) standing in front of me, it was either her arms would be folded across her chest or they would be resting on her hips—either way, it would still give off the impression that she was mad.

And then, (Y/N) would give a fifteen-minute lecture about how I should stop swearing since Lance was around. Although, I wouldn't take her seriously, because her lecture would be highly hypocritical.

(Y/N) swore in front of Lance. A lot. Making her lecture null and void. It would probably end up going in one ear, and out the other. At the end of it all, I would nod, and apologize, and all would be peaceful in the household once again.

"Whatever," I replied, simply too tired to care, "how about eating some nutella sandwiches?"

"Yay!"

Lance tried to get off of the bed, but he ended up getting one of his feet tangled in the messy bedsheets. With a loud yelp of alarm, Lance tripped and crashed onto the bed, his tiny frame bouncing slightly.

"What an ass."

My eyes widened as I stared at Lance in shock, replaying the swear word that the child, who I whole-heartedly believed was the picture of innocence, uttered rather angrily.

Suddenly, several questions started circling in my mind. When did he start swearing? Just where did he draw the line when it came to profanity? Who influenced him? God, I hope it wasn't me. The delinquency phase wasn't supposed to start until he was a teenager.

At least, that's what I thought.

"Lance," I tested, "what did you just say?"

The kid looked up, his eyes shrouded in fear as he remained unmoving. "I'm sorry, daddy! Please don't tell mommy! Please don't!"

Silence.

I contemplated on what would be the best, and most father-ly option in this situation. Lance, on the other hand, was on his knees, the bedsheet still wrapped around his body.

"Fine," Lance visibly relaxed, a relieved sigh exiting his lips, "I won't. Promise me you won't tell mommy I said a bad word, and I won't tell mommy about your little slip-up."

"I promise!"

What? In times like these, men needed to stick together. Because when you've got a wife-slash-mother living with you under the same roof, it's either you learn the ways of secrecy—or deal with a woman's fury.

That day, both Lance and I had no plans to encounter the latter.

» reader's point of view

You took a slow, prolonged sip of the cool drink Erza bought for you, relishing its sweet flavor. Afterwards, you swirled the drink around the glass, listening to the melting ice clink as it collided against the transparent surface.

"So," Lisanna drawled out, "how are your two rays of sunshine doing?"

The girls all directed their attention towards you, interested in what you had to say. You took a quick sip, choosing your words carefully, making sure to paint both Sting and Lance in the best possible light.

"They're doing amazing," you said, a sweet smile on your face, "really, how can I ask for more?" [ panic! at the disco reference guys pls get this i love that song so much ahhhhhh ]

Little did you know, your two "rays of sunshine" were secretly making a treaty of sorts in the kitchen, munching on sloppily-done nutella sandwiches.

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you people have no idea how much time i took counting all those letters.

~ Acnologia_Slayer