𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℂ𝕦𝕣𝕖 || Jack Grayson & echo

[echo]

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[Jack Grayson]

HENRY ADAMS xHusband// Father // Genetic Anomalyx "A daughter never really outgrows her daddy's lap"​ ​ They were both stunned by the diagnosis, but they were floored when the doctor told them the cure. Henry and Mia felt like they didn't understand. It didn't make any sense! Mia cleared her throat and nervously toyed with her hair in a futile attempt to calm herself down before saying, "Can you please explain again." The doctor sighed regretfully and scratched his forehead. "I know this is a lot to take in, but I'm afraid there is no other way. Your daughter, Lily, has a very rare, degenerative disease. As a result, there hasn't been much research into it, unfortunately. Her body will start deteriorating rapidly. She'll lose all motor function. She'll lose the ability to speak. Then, her mind will go. Most patients with this disease don't live past 21. And as you've noticed, the degeneration has already begun. If we act quickly, her tremors and fatigue will most likely stop and she'll essentially be cured. If we wait, there's a chance she might lose function in those trembling limbs. From there, she'll quickly lose function everywhere else." "The cure!" Mia shouted. "I want you to explain the cure! Again!" Henry tried to subtly calm his wife down by placing his hand on her knee, but she swatted him away. "I'm sure you understand how stressful this is for us?" He said to the doctor, feeling his own anxiety creep up on him. The doctor nodded before clearing his throat. "Essentially, your husband is the cure. Less than one percent of men carry the protein that can alleviate your daughter's symptoms. It just so happens that your husband carries that protein in his… semen... And…" "The delivery method! Explain that again!" Mia shouted, her voice becoming more and more unhinged. "Like I said, there is only one possible method of delivery. The protein is so sensitive that any other delivery method could destroy it, rendering it useless. Your husband needs to… " The doctor nervously stumbled over the right word. "He'll need to… inject it… directly… himself…" Mia broke down, sobbing uncontrollably as Henry just sat there dumbfounded, staring blankly at the doctor. He couldn't seriously believe any of this either "There has to be another way!" Mia said through choking sobs. "You can't expect my husband and daughter to do THAT! He's her father!" The doctor sighed once again as he lifted his glasses to rub his eyes. "The only other option is to make her as comfortable as possible until she–" "STOP!" Mia shouted. "Don't say it!" Then she looked at her husband, her sobs becoming more and more pathetic with each passing moment. "What are we going to do, Henry?" That was the big question, wasn't it? Needless to say, the drive home from the doctor's office was silent and unbearably tense. Henry didn't realize just how hard he was gripping the steering wheel, so hard that the knuckles on his large hands had turned white. He and his wife didn't even look at each other the entire time. But as he pulled into the driveway of their house in that quiet suburban neighborhood, Mia finally broke the silence. "We're really going to do this?" she asked, her voice trembling like she was on the verge of tears. "YOU are really going to do this?" Henry sighed as he stared straight ahead at the garage door in front of him, still gripping the steering wheel like his life depended on it. Then, he ran his hands through his short, dark brown hair as he looked over at his wife, the woman he loved, whom he had dedicated his entire life to. His piercing, forest green gaze looked as if they were peering right into her soul. "Do we have another choice?" he said, his voice somewhat cold and stern, bordering on resentful for the question she asked. "You heard what the doctor said. If we don't do this… If I don't do this… she won't live past her early twenties… If we don't act soon, her body could suffer irreparable damage. Is that what you want?" Mia started sobbing, covering her face with both hands. Henry sighed once again, but this time the sigh was filled with frustration and anger. Why did his wife need to make this more difficult than it already was? Did she think this was going to be easy or enjoyable for him? No… it wasn't going to be either of those things… Pulling her face from her hands, Mia stared at her husband with bleary eyes and tear stained cheeks. "This is going to ruin her for the rest of her life… Her first time with her dad? How much therapy is she going to need in the future?" "At least she'll be alive to get that therapy, Mia!" Henry said angrily. "This is just a medical procedure… that's all this is. A way to save her life! You see how her hands and legs are already trembling? Who knows how long we have until she can't walk? Until she can't use her hands anymore? You heard the doctor! Once the motor functions are gone, they're gone forever!" Mia started sobbing again. She knew her husband was right, but the thought of her husband having sex with their daughter was repulsive and unbearable. "You'll hurt her," she said meekly as she glanced at his crotch. And that was probably true. At 6'3" and with an athletic physique, Henry was a mountain of a man. Henry growled. "Shots hurt, Mia… And that's all this is. We have to think of it as a life saving injection. Yes, it's not a normal way of delivering medicine, but her disease isn't normal either!" He paused as anger stewed inside of him. "Why are you making this even more difficult than it already is?! Do you think I want to do this?! When our daughter was born, I promised to do anything and everything to protect her! That's what this is! We're saving her life!" Mia started sobbing even harder. "She's just so young… and so innocent…" Wiping her tears from her face and trying to compose herself, she said, "I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I know this is hard for you too. And you're right… about all of it…" After taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down even more, she continued, "How do we tell her? What if she refuses? We can't force this on her, can we? That would be even more traumatizing!" Henry sighed yet again. "We'll cross that bridge when we reach it. For now, we tell her exactly what the doctor told us. We tell her plainly, simply. If she wants to feel better, if she wants to be cured, this is the only way." "Can you tell her?" Mia asked sheepishly. "Yes," Henry responded, matter of factly. "Now, let's stop delaying the inevitable." Mia nodded as Henry turned off the car and exited. His hands were trembling as he opened the door to their home. Once inside, he called out to his daughter. "Can you come down to the kitchen, baby girl?" he said sweetly. "We just got back from the doctor, and we have some good news." Henry didn't know why, but he started straightening out his dress shirt and slacks, attempting to make himself look more presentable like that might help this news go down a bit smoother. Sitting at the kitchen table, he tried his best to smile and act casual to make this all as nonthreatening and comfortable and seemingly normal as possible. ​ ​ ​

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[echo]

LILLIAN ❝Lily❞ ADAMS xdaughter // pianist // his little girlx ❝ My music is my passion, but my Daddy is my greatest song. ❞ — Lillian Adams[/I]​ ​ Sitting at the grand piano, Lillian's fingers lightly rested on the keys as she took a deep breath to steady herself before she began. The concert hall was silent with the anticipation of the audience. This was the moment she had worked so hard for, the culmination of years of practice and passion, but something felt... off. It had begun a few months ago, a strange tremble in her hands—just slightly, at first, and usually, it would go away after a few moments, but this time, when she tried to will them to be still, to obey as they had, her body refused. As the first notes began to fill the room, she tried to lose herself in the music, but the shaking worsened. Her fingers stumbled over a passage she had played flawlessly a hundred times before. A flicker of panic sparked in her chest, but she forced herself to continue and push through. She had to finish. Then, the dizziness hit. The edges of her vision blurred, the keys swam before her eyes, and before she could process what was happening, everything tilted, and her world went dark. A gasp rippled through the audience as she slumped forward, the last chord ringing in abrupt dissonance. The next thing Lily knew, she was waking up in a hospital bed, the harsh fluorescent lights above making her head ache. Her parents had been there at first—worried, hovering—but now, they were gone, speaking with the doctor. Alone in the quiet room, Lily stared at her hands. They still trembled. 'What if this never goes away? What if I can't ever play again?' Her inner thoughts were making her stomach twist into knots. She curled her fingers into fists, willing them to be steady, but they refused. Tears began to burn in her eyes. Music was her everything—her voice, her soul—and now, it was slipping away from her grasp like sand through her fingers. She had no idea what the doctor would say when her parents returned, but deep down, she was afraid. Afraid that no treatment, no miracle, could give her back what she had lost. Lily had been staring at the ceiling when the door finally creaked open. Her parents stepped inside, their faces unreadable, but she could see the worry lingering in her mother's eyes and the tight set of her father's jaw. They didn't say much; they just helped her gather her things. Her father's hand reached out and gave her hand a warm but hesitant squeeze as they left the room and made their way towards the elevator. ​ The days stretched into weeks, and Lily could feel herself fading. Her body grew weaker, her legs were unsteady when she walked, and her hands were more uncooperative than ever. Some mornings, she barely had the energy to sit at the piano, and when she did, frustration burned through her as her fingers betrayed her. The music didn't sound like hers anymore. Then, the call finally came. The test results were in. Her parents left that morning to speak with the doctor, this time not just for her but for themselves. They had been tested too, to see if the illness was buried in their genes, if this thing stealing her strength had been passed down through blood. Now, Lily sat curled up on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket despite the warmth of the room. The house was too quiet. The waiting was unbearable, every second stretching longer than the last. She traced the lines of her palm, willing her hands to be still, but the tremors remained. What if there was no cure? What if this was just her life now, watching her body fail her, waiting for something she couldn't fight? The sound of the front door unlocking jolted her from her thoughts. Her parents were home. Lily held her breath as their footsteps approached; her mother's hesitant and slow, her father's heave with something unsaid. "I take it the news was not good news, then?" By the looks on their faces, tear-streaked and furrowed, she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear what they had to say. But she had no choice... ​ ​ ​

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[Jack Grayson]

HENRY ADAMS xHusband// Father // Genetic Anomalyx "A daughter never really outgrows her daddy's lap"​ ​ As much as Henry was trying to keep his cool for the sake of his daughter and act like everything was totally fine, Mia's expression and her tear stained cheeks betrayed the anxiety and the tension of the entire situation. He had wanted to frame everything as good news and hopefully get Lily on board with accepting the cure, but that would certainly be a bit of a struggle now. Still, he needed to try. Looking into his daughter's eyes, he said, "It is good news." Then, he looked at his wife who was fighting the urge to break down once again. "In the grand scheme of things… big picture… this is great news, right?" Mia just nodded as she wiped the corner of her eye. The subtle glare with which Henry had been looking at his wife softened once she nodded, and he took a moment to take a breath and compose himself as he scrambled to figure out how to best tell his daughter this news. "So…" he nervously cleared his throat as he absently adjusted his collar, "Dr. Williams has apparently found a cure for your condition. After the cure is administered, your body will return back to the way it was… no more tremors, no more brian fog, no more fatigue or aching muscles and joints." He smiled when he saw his little girl's eyes light up, the first genuine light he'd seen in her eyes in quite a while, which only made what he had to say next feel all the more difficult. "Before we start celebrating just yet, we need to talk about what the cure entails." He looked over at Mia. "Your mother and I made sure to ask Dr. Williams about the process several times, so that there wouldn't be any confusion." Mia nodded and she nervously fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. Turning back to his daughter, he smiled, though it was abundantly clear that his smile was hiding a certain amount of anxiety. "Remember when we all took those blood tests? Well, they apparently found something interesting in my DNA. It holds the key to your cure, one particular protein to be specific." In his peripheral vision he could see his wife becoming a bit agitated. She probably thought he was beating around the bush, but he was just trying to make this as clear and simple and nonthreatening and easy to follow as possible, so he just tried his best to ignore her. "The only issue is the delivery method, which is kind of like a shot. But see, this protein is apparently very sensitive. Normal medical tools can neutralize it and make it useless, so it wouldn't be exactly like taking a normal shot, but…" "Jesus Christ, Henry!" Mia snapped. "Just tell the girl!" Henry's head slowly turned in the direction of his wife, and he gave her a stern look that said, 'You're the one who asked me to tell her!' But apparently Mia had enough. Something about the way he was explaining this to her like she was a small child made this feel all the more perverse. And for some reason that she didn't consciously understand at the moment, it made her angry. "She's a woman," Mia explained. "She can handle it." Clearing her throat to compose herself a bit more, she looked at her daughter and wiped the remaining tears from her eyes and she prepared to take the reins of the conversation. "The protein your father is talking about is in his semen. You know what that is. You've taken sex ed. In order for the cure to work, he needs to ejaculate inside of you…" Mia huffed, as if a large burden had been lifted from her shoulders. But with that feeling of relief also came tears once again. She tried her best to hold them back, but she couldn't. Standing up, she muttered an apology before leaving the kitchen, her face in her hands to hide her sobs. She couldn't bear to see her daughter's reaction to this type of news. Henry sighed as he nervously ran a hand through his beard and then his hair. "That's the gist, kiddo," he said, a confusing myriad of emotions on his face that ultimately looked a bit like bewilderment and disbelief over the whole situation. "Dr. Williams says it only needs to be a one time thing. It's… it's really just a procedure at the end of the day when you really think about it. An unorthodox procedure, but this is the only chance we've got at getting you healthy, baby girl…" His eyes started brimming with tears as he paused to let it all sink in. "I'm sure you've got plenty of questions, and I'm ready to answer all of them as best I can. I… I know this isn't an ideal situation, but it's all we've got." ​ ​ ​

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[echo]

LILLIAN ❝Lily❞ ADAMS xdaughter // pianist // his little girlx ❝My music is my passion, but my Daddy is my greatest song.❞ — Lillian Adams​ Her eyes darted between her parents the moment they stepped into the room. Her father wore the mask—that carefully controlled expression he always put on when he was uncertain, when he didn't know how to soften a blow. Her mother, in contrast, made no attempt to hide her emotions. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, and more still welled in her eyes, threatening to fall. Lily's heart pounded in her chest. Was it bad news? Was this it? But then, her mother's lips quivered, and though she said nothing, there was something in her face—a fragile hope breaking through the grief. Her father shifted beside her, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. That was when Lily knew. There was a cure. Relief crashed over her in a dizzying wave. She wasn't going to waste away. She wasn't going to lose herself, her music, her life. For the first time in weeks, the suffocating fear loosened its grip on her chest, letting her breathe. Tentatively, Lillian nodded along with her mother, not quite trusting herself to speak out loud. So many questions were chasing the other in her mind, all of them big and important. She didn't want to make things worse, but she couldn't ignore how this new information made her feel. How could this possibly be good news if her mother was as distraught as she seemed? Could it be that simple? The relief she had felt just a few moments ago had been replaced with anticipation and excitement, sure, but now, trepidation when her father continued about what the cure entailed, giving her pause. Sensing her mother's discomfort and growing concern, she glanced at her; seeing it etched clearly on her face despite her attempts to remain stoic. Lillian's mind reeled as she processed these shocking revelations. Semen? Ejaculate inside of her? Her cheeks flused crimson as the implication of her mother's blunt words sunk in. "Y-you mean... a-as in..." She stammered, unable to even voice the lewd act. Her heart hammered in her chest as a whirlwind of emotions swept through her—confusion, embarrassment, disbelief, but also, deep down, a spark of undeniable curiosity. She had always been open-minded and adventurous, but this went beyond anything she had ever imagined. "I can't believe this is happening..." Lillian whispered, her voice trembling slightly. She could scarely comprehend what her parents were telling her. A cure existed for her condition, but the method of delivery was... unconventional, to say the least. The thought of being so intimately close to her own father made her stomach churn with shame and guilt. She had never considered anything like this before, but now that the possibility was laid out before her, she couldn't help but let her mind wander. 'Just imagine—no more pain, no more tremors, no more feeling exhausted all of the time,' the voice in the back of her mind practically screamed. 'And if the price for that is giving yourself to your father, then perhaps that is a sacrifice you'd be willing to make, Lily. After all, he's always been there for you, loving and supportive. Maybe this is just another way he can take care of you, even if it is a bit... forbidden.' Feeling trapped between her inner thoughts and the moral line, she turned to her father for guidance. "D-do I have to do this, Daddy?" she managed to choke out of her tight throat. "Is there no other way? Can't we just... wait? Maybe they'll find something else?" ​ ​ ​ ​ ​

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[Jack Grayson]

HENRY ADAMS xHusband// Father // Genetic Anomalyx "A daughter never really outgrows her daddy's lap"​ ​ His daughter's questions broke his heart. Even at seventeen, she still called him Daddy, and while that had usually been a point of pride for the man, that he and his daughter were still so close when his coworkers often said that their teenage daughters wouldn't even look at them, right then the moniker made the moment even that much harder to bear. Because he was her Daddy. And what he needed to do was the last thing a father should ever engage in with his little girl. But if they wanted to save her, what other choice did they have? Tears were threatening to spill from his eyes as he gently grabbed his daughter's trembling hand. He didn't know if she was trembling as a result of her condition or from the obvious anxiety that this news undoubtedly precipitated. Most likely, it was a result of both things, but he decided to focus on the idea that it came from her illness. "We could…" he admitted. "Wait… But the trembling is only going to get worse." He looked down at his daughter's hand as he rubbed her fingers with his thumb. "At some point, your fingers will stop working, and when that happens, no cure will ever bring them back, meaning no more piano. Part of the problem is that we don't know exactly when that will happen." He heard the sounds of soft sobbing from the living room where Mia appeared to be listening in still, and he suddenly found his mind scrambling for another alternative, another solution that perhaps the doctors overlooked. He knew he wasn't qualified to come up with alternative remedies, but he felt like he needed to do something. Lily had always looked up to him, like he was her hero, and he wanted to be her hero in this situation too. He didn't want to let her down. He found himself thinking about the protein that existed in his semen. It was rare, but just how rare was it? Maybe other men in his family had it too? But as soon as that thought entered his mind, he threw it out. As much as it would pain him to do what needed to be done, especially considering Lily's very normal reluctance to it all, he didn't know what he would do if it turned out that his brother or–God forbid–his father turned out to be other viable options. Just the thought of it made him sick, and without consciously realizing it, Henry found himself becoming very possessive of his little girl. If anyone was going to cure her, it was going to be him… no one else. Mia, having composed herself a bit, walked back into the kitchen as she wiped her eyes. "Your father and I were talking," she explained. "We just need to treat this like it's an experimental procedure. No one will ever know. We'll tell the family that…" She was searching for an explanation that the extended family would accept without question. "We'll say it was some experimental gene therapy!" Her eyes suddenly got a bit brighter now that she had concocted a reasonable response. Sitting down next to her daughter at the kitchen table, she said, "You don't need to think of this as sex, okay? It's a procedure. That's all. No one will ever know! And for all intents and purposes you will still be a virgin. People lose their hymens all the time through random accidents. Your aunt Cathy lost it horseback riding!" She looked up at Henry for a second before returning her gaze back to her daughter. "And I think I speak for both your father and I when I say that we want you to have total control over how this all happens. We could treat it just like a shot… Your father can… umm… prepare himself… and when he's good and ready, it should only take a matter of seconds! It'll be nothing at all…" Henry understood the idea, but for some reason it didn't sit well with him. It'd be like treating his daughter like some sort of breeding mare. But was the alternative? The alternative was having a sexual experience with his daughter. Did she really want that? Suddenly, he started asking himself other questions, like where this would all happen? Would she want her bedroom tainted with that memory? They certainly couldn't do it in his and Mia's bed, could they? Maybe it wouldn't be in a bed at all. But then a dread came over him when he wondered if he'd actually be able to perform. Mia made it sound so easy, but would he actually be able to get hard and maintain an erection for his daughter? He couldn't think of all of those things just then. It was all too much. Instead, he just nodded and said, "Whatever you want. Whatever makes you the most comfortable, we'll do. Maybe we can hold out for a bit and hope that the doctors can come up with something else, but if the tremors start to get worse, or if you feel that your fingers or your arms or your legs are starting to go stiff, we'll need to act fast." ​ ​ ​

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[echo]

LILLIAN ❝Lily❞ ADAMS xdaughter // pianist // his little girlx ❝My music is my passion, but my Daddy is my greatest song.❞ — Lillian Adams​ "Whatever you want. Whatever makes you the most comfortable, we'll do." In that moment, time itself seemed to slow. The ticking of the clock grew fainter, as if it too were waiting with bated breath for Lily's decision. The world with all its cruel uncertainties receded, leaving only the three of them, suspended in a delicate, crystaline moment. The faint tremble of her father's hand, still clasped around hers, though she knew the trembling had been her own, was a poignant reminder of the desperation that had driven them to this moment. "I...I need some time to think," she whispered, her words barely audible, yet they seemed to hang in the air like a challenge. The faint nod of her father's head, the gentle squeeze of his hand, and the soft, reassuring smile of her mother, all seemed to coalesce into a sense of solidarity, something Lily wondered how long it would last until the act itself was done. The silence that followed was a palpable thing, a living, breathing entity that pulsed with the weight of their collective anxiety. As she sat there, suspended in a sea of uncertainty, Lily's mind became a kaleidoscope of thoughts, each one tumbling over the other in a maddening dance. She felt the rough texture of her father's hand, the gentle pressure of his fingers, and the warmth of his skin, all of which seemed to anchor her to the present, even as her thoughts threatened to catapult her into a future filled with the unknown.​ As the hours ticked by, Lily's room became a refuge, a sanctuary from the cataclysm that had erupted in the household. Shortly after she had retreated to the safety of her bedroom, the silent shouts that were locked within her parents' throats burst to the surface. Normally, when her parents would argue, she would sit at her keyboard that sat in a place of honour by her window, overlooking their backyard, and play to her heart's content and at the highest volume to block out the noise of their arguments. Yet, even with her weakness and unsteady hands, she would never be able to focus... Her mind was a thousand miles away, consumed by the decision that would ultimately change her life. Not only would she be trading in the oh-so-valued virginity card for her life, but it would be handed over to her father of all people. Her parents' argument, though muffled by her closed bedroom door, did not make her decision-making process any easier. If anything, their argument was intensifying, making it worse. Words spilling out in a rush of accusations and blame. Lily's mother's voice, usually a comforting sound, had turned into a sharp jarring noise, while her father's deep voice carried a separation that made her heart ache. The words themselves were indistinct, lost in translation through the muffling of the door, but the emotions they conveyed were all too clear. Her mother's anguish and her father's frustration were swirled together in a toxic mix that threatened to consume her. She changed into a pair of heather-grey loose-fitting cotton shorts and the oversized graphic t-shirt she stole from her father's dresser. Lily couldn't remember if her father listened to The Eagles, but it served its purpose and smelled like him. With a heavy sigh, she could at least admit to feeling a little more comfortable, but not much. Putting in her earbuds, she flipped on her playlist and turned the volume up to drown out her parents' exchange. She knew that it was her fault for getting sick... It was her fault for being an anomaly... It was her fault... Laying down on her bed, she knew she had made her decision. She wouldn't go through with it. She couldn't tear her parents apart... Or so she believed the decision had been made... Waking up to the sound of her earbuds 'Low Battery' warning, she sat up in her bed and rubbed her eyes after reading the clock on her nightstand to be sure it really was 2:47 in the morning. Removing the plastic noise cancellers, she heard the rain softly hitting her window and silence. Her body felt like lead, but despite the exhaustion that threatened to consume her, she was determined to get out of bed, to prove to herself that she was still in control. With a Herculean effort, Lily swung her legs over the side of the bed, her feet dangling in the air like limp puppets. She took a deep breath, the cool air filling her lungs, and slowly stood up, her legs trembling beneath her. The room seemed to spin, a dizzying vortex of colors and shadows, but she gritted her teeth, determined to shake it off and make it to the kitchen. As she made it into the hall, the silence of the house felt deafening, knowing that her mother wasn't home. She couldn't take being under the same roof as Lily and her father if they were to go through with the... 'procedure'. Lily's father had tried to talk to her, to reason with her, but she had pushed him away, unable to bear the thought of discussing it further. She reached the kitchen, the lights overhead casting an unforgiving glare over the room. Lily's eyes scanned the space, her gaze settling on the sink, where a glass of water seemed to beckon her like an oasis in the desert. She took a step forward, her legs trembling, and then another, her hand reaching out to grasp the counter. But it was too much. Her body gave out, her legs collapsing beneath her like fragile twigs. She felt herself falling, her arms flailing wildly as she tried to grab onto something, anything, to break her fall. The counter seemed to rush up to meet her, a blur of ceramic and steel, and then she was crashing down, dishes and glasses shattering on the floor around her. Lily lay there, her head spinning, her ears ringing from the sound of breaking glass. Her eyes began to sting with tears as she looked at the mess that lay around her. She heard her father rush into the room, his face a mask of concern, his eyes scanning her body as if searching for injuries. And then he saw her face, the look in her eyes, and his expression changed. It was as if he saw something... Something that made his heart sink. Lily felt a sob well up in her throat, and she knew she couldn't hold it back. The tears began to flow, hot and bitter, as she realized that she had made her decision. "I'll do it," she whispered.​ ​ ​ ​ ​

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[Jack Grayson]

HENRY ADAMS xHusband// Father // Genetic Anomalyx "A daughter never really outgrows her daddy's lap"​ ​ She needed time to think, and that was perfectly reasonable. Henry pressed his bearded lips together to form a subtle, understanding smile and nodded as he patted his daughter's hand. "Sleep on it," he said. "We can talk in the morning." He watched as Lily walked off to her room, and once she was out sight, his eyes drifted to his wife who seemed to be growing more agitated once again. "Do you think she'll say no?" a confusing mix of worry and relief in her tone. "Let's not talk about this here, okay?" he said, the weight of his exhaustion readily apparent in his voice. "It's been a long day, and I need a shower." Mia nodded and they both retreated to the master bedroom upstairs. Henry did need a shower, but he also just needed to be alone. He needed to be away from his wife, if only for a little while. He'd been trying so hard to remain cool, calm, and collected through all of this, but Mia's intense anxiety had a way of increasing his own. He was usually her rock, the source of her comfort, the one person in the world who could calm her down. But that wasn't the case now. Because of what he needed to do, he was one of two primary sources of anxiety in her life rather than her respite. And since he was unable to effectively calm her down, he knew he just needed to walk away for a bit, for his own sanity and for hers. And so he took a long, hot shower. He'd been hoping to clear his mind, but that was apparently impossible. His thoughts kept returning to his daughter, to how this would all happen. Unlike Mia, he had no doubts that she would say yes. It was just a matter of when she would finally say it. And when that happened, what would he do? They'd told Lily that she'd have control over how this all transpired, but he knew his daughter. She was a strong person, but would she actually have the courage to tell him how she wanted this to go down? He doubted it. He doubted any daughter would have the courage to tell their father how they'd prefer to be fucked and inseminated. Because that's what was going to happen, right? They could use all the euphemisms they wanted. They could call it a procedure, but they'd both know what it actually meant. So, he figured he would ultimately have to take the lead. But would he be able to get aroused for his little girl? Standing there under the shower head, water cascading down his body, he tried to imagine Lily and her body as if she weren't his daughter. Eventually, she wasn't even Lily anymore in his mind. She was just a faceless, seventeen year old girl. A slender but shapely little girl who needed him and his cum. He tried to imagine what this girl might look like in the nude. He tried to imagine the curve of her ass, the swell of her breasts. Feeling his manhood begin to grow, he took it in his hand and as he began to stroke, he grew firmer. The naked, faceless girl in his mind needed him, wanted him, was desperate for him. And that's where the fantasy ended. Because she didn't want him. She wasn't desperate for him, at least not in the way he'd been imagining. That girl was his daughter, and she was essentially being forced into all of this out of necessity. Feeling dirty, which was quite the feat considering that he was in the shower, he released his manhood and reached for the handle of the shower to turn on the cold water. The last thing he needed was to walk into the bedroom and have Mia see him hard after everything that had happened that day. Done with the shower, he stepped out and grabbed a towel to dry off, and as he did he eyed his body in the mirror. He'd been concerned about being able to become aroused for his daughter, but would she be able to become aroused by him? He was in pretty good shape for a man his age. He worked out and had a mostly athletic physique with a somewhat defined chest and muscular arms, but he was just a bit soft around the middle like any average man might be at his age. He stared at his cock, still somewhat hard. He knew he was large. Would it hurt her like Mia said? Would she have second thoughts the second it was inside her? Or would she be brave and bite the bullet? Henry was torn from his thoughts when the bathroom door suddenly opened. "Are you avoiding me?!" Mia accused. "You've been in here for an hour!" Clearly shocked from the intrusion, he couldn't formulate words right away, and just when he felt like he could, he saw his wife's eyes fall to his crotch. Her eyes widened in disgust. "Oh my god… are… are you fucking hard right now?" She left the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. Henry quickly wrapped the towel around his waist and walked into the bedroom to explain himself, but Mia was already pulling luggage out of the closet. He opened his mouth to speak, but Mia stopped him. "Not a word, Henry," she yelled. "Not a fucking word, understand?" She started haphazardly throwing clothes into the luggage. "I'm going to my mom's. You call me when this is all over. I can't be in this house when… when you…" It was clear that she was unable to finish what she wanted to say. "Can I explain myself?" Henry said angrily. "No! Because I don't fucking care! I understand that you're… you're… probably doing whatever you need to do, okay? But I don't want to see it. I don't know about it. I don't want to talk about it. I know this needs to happen, but I don't want any part of this. I'm NOT part of this." The last bit is what appeared to hurt the most to say. Henry understood, and just watched on silently as she finished packing her bags and left. Now alone, he dressed himself in his typical night time attire, a pair of boxer shorts, and finished his routine. He knew that sleep wasn't going to come easily. Not only did he have Lily to worry about, but now he had to wonder what all of this was going to do to his marriage. Could they survive it? Could any marriage? Surely, Mia would come around? It was only going to be a one time thing. They'd never even need to talk about it. He doubted any of them would ever think to bring it up. He stayed up late into the night reading in a desperate attempt to take his mind off of things. At some point, he drifted off, but it was a fitful and hardly restful sleep. So it was no wonder that he woke to the sound of his daughter's bedroom door opening. A wave of anxiety washed over him for a moment when he wondered if she was coming to tell him her decision, but then he heard the creaking of the stairs and he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. She was probably just getting a glass of water like she usually did. He tried to close his eyes again, but almost as soon as he felt like he might be drifting off again, he heard a loud crash. His fatherly instincts kicked in, and he popped out of bed. Racing down the stairs, he yelled, "Lily? Are you okay?" She wasn't. She was on the floor, but luckily it didn't look like she was injured. Rushing up to her, he crouched down beside her, but before he could say anything, he saw a welling up of emotion on her face, and that's when she said it. She wanted the cure. Henry nodded as tears brimmed his own eyes. Stroking her hair, he said, "Okay, baby girl… Okay…" All of his fears and anxieties seemed to dissipate. It was no longer a matter of whether he could do this. He had to do this… for her. He scooped her up into his arms like she weighed nothing at all as he said, "Come on, let's get you back to bed." When they arrived at her bedroom, he gently set her down on the mattress before taking a seat on the edge beside her. "I think we may have put a bit too much pressure on you with the whole… having you decide how this all happens, especially since you've never done it before. If you have any ideas, then by all means let me know, okay? Otherwise, I… I hope you can just put your trust in me. I'm willing to take the lead on this if you want so you don't really have to think about it. You'd just have to trust me…" ​ ​ ​

​

 

[echo]

LILLIAN ❝Lily❞ ADAMS xdaughter // pianist // his little girlx ❝My music is my passion, but my Daddy is my greatest song.❞ — Lillian Adams​ ​ "You'll just have to trust me..."​ He was willing to take the lead... which had been a small relief, especially since she hadn't the slightest clue on how to go about it in the first place. Sure, she had friends at school who talked about how they would 'seduce' their boyfriends during their dates. There had been one friend that neither of her parents liked, and for good reason, who had often bragged in the locker room during changeout about what had transpired over the weekends. Lily had a hard time believing half of what came out of Holly's mouth, but now, she had hoped that some of it had been true. Like, that it didn't hurt too much. Now that she was faced with that possibility, at least having her first time with the man who would never hurt her would mean he would be gentle.... right? Sitting in the awkward silence, she didn't know if she had the courage to ask any questions that were in the tornado that was her mind and she wasn't sure if she should just rip her clothes off like a bandaid to get the balls rolling on this 'procedure' already so it can be over and done with. Especially if it was only the one time... It was only going to be one time... right? No more weakness, no more trembling hands, no more exhaustion gone, with one time? It sounded too good to be true. Like it was a one of those scap timeshares her best friends parents managed to get suckered into. 'A one time purchase and you're good for the full five years!' Utter bullshit and now, her parents are stuck in a fifteen year contract. "So..." she began, trying to work up the nerve to broach the one question, okay, maybe two questions that had been blinking in her head like a neon sign at a rave. "We only have to do this once... Right? Just the one time?" Willing herself to relax, she sighed, the reality had already set in when she had sunk to the kitchen floor. It wasn't like the man beside her was some stranger off the street. She could tell him everything, and did. He had been her best friend since before she had even known what that word even meant. He was her rock. If she fell and skinned her knee, it had been him she cried for. His kisses that made everything better. Sure she loved her mother, but no one compared to her father. That had probably been the reason she didn't take an interest in any of the boys at school, now that she was truly faced with it. A crush on a math teacher had been the only thing close to her even thinking about... boys. But now... "Do we make this one time count," she tried to laugh, to lighten the awkwardness a little. "Or, do we do this quick? I know the first time is supposed to hurt, and I would prefer to avoid it, but..." The more she spoke, the more flustered with what she wanted to say she became. It was dumb to worry about that part. She should be worrying about the whole damn situation. She felt as though she should remove the clothes, but at the same time, should she just remove her shorts? Would it be more comfortable without the t-shirt hugging her neck? She wasn't wearing a bra, so maybe she should keep the shirt on? A small and silly relief stemmed from knowing her last esthetician appointment had been recent, not that it should have mattered, especially not to her father. Then again, he was a man, and most men appreciated well-maintained gardens— 'The fuck, Lil?! Just stop with the bush talk, already,' her inner self screamed out, luckily, just in her mind. "Are you sure about this, Daddy," she asked, wishing she hadn't of used the term she had since she learned to talk. "Last chance to change your mind..." ​ ​ ​

​

 

[Jack Grayson]

HENRY ADAMS xHusband// Father // Genetic Anomalyx "A daughter never really outgrows her daddy's lap"​ ​ "Just one time," he said, hoping to reassure her. "That's what the doctor said." He didn't blame her for wanting to verify that this would only happen once. He didn't take it as a slight against him. Neither of them were necessarily enthusiastic about this happening. They were just doing it because they needed to. Henry would take all of the awkward questions in stride. He was the adult here, and he'd been his little girl's rock since the day she was born. She could do or say whatever she wanted. Nothing would stop him from loving her or doing what needed to be done in order to save her. But the next question certainly took him aback. She asked if she they should make this one time count or if they should make it quick, and while it was said in jest, he couldn't help but read into it a bit. Was she actually considering the idea of having a full sexual experience with him? Her father? It felt a little unsettling at first to consider that she might be thinking that way, but ultimately it made him a bit more relaxed about the whole situation because it seemed like a small bit of evidence that she wasn't completely disgusted by what they needed to do, that she thought pleasure was possible with him. When she explained that she'd like to avoid pain if possible, he let his large hand fall to her thigh, just above her knee, and squeezed in the way he often would when he would try to comfort her while giving her some bad news. Sighing, he said, "I'll try my best to be as gentle as I can, but unfortunately I think at least a little bit of pain is unavoidable, baby girl." His moniker for her, the one he had used for her since the day she was born, suddenly felt awkward as it rolled off his tongue, probably because of the conversation they were having about the pain she might feel when he ultimately penetrated her. But he tried not to dwell on it because she was his baby girl. She'd always be his baby girl no matter what. "There's things we can do, though, to make it less painful." He stopped talking as he tried to figure out how to best broach the subject of foreplay, but he decided it might be best to avoid the conversation altogether. "But just leave that to me, okay? I know what to do." And then his precious little girl tried to give him one last way out. She even called him "Daddy" while doing it. And while he could sense a little awkwardness in his daughter for using that term just then, he just smiled warmly, trying to show her that nothing she could do or say would make him feel awkward about this. The truth of the matter was that he liked that she could still call him daddy even in the midst of such a tense moment. Hopefully, it was a sign that what they were about to do would change nothing between them. His heart would break if for some reason she couldn't look at him as her Daddy after all of this. This was all about him performing his fatherly duties, after all, wasn't it? He had the means to cure his daughter's fatal illness. What kind of father would he be if he didn't do it? "And miss out on hearing you play piano again?" He said with a smile. "Not a chance. On the day you were born, I swore to you that I would do everything in power to keep you safe and healthy. That's all this is." He let his words sink in for a second before saying, "Now come on, let's just lay down on the bed and try to get comfortable. "On your back," he instructed as he reached for Lily's phone that was sitting on her nightstand. As always, there was a playlist that had been paused on her home screen. He pressed play to continue it and set it back down, hoping that some light background noise would be a helpful distraction from the tension that silence tended to bring. Maybe it would even help her dissociate a bit if that's what she wanted. Laying on his side beside her, he said, "Now just close your eyes, okay? And take deep breaths. And remember, trust." He was hoping the closed eyes, the deep breaths, and the music would help her to relax and focus solely on the sensations. Henry would be following his own advice as well, closing his eyes to help him imagine that this woman he was touching wasn't his daughter. He'd also try to avoid speaking as much as possible. Extending his large, calloused hand, he gently slid it under her shirt and started massaging the soft flesh of her stomach. It was something that Lily would have been used to. He rubbed her stomach in that bed on countless nights through the years. And he stayed there for sometime, rubbing in rhythm to the beat of the music that was playing lightly in the background, a rhythm that almost felt hypnotic. But as hypnotic as it may have been and even though his eyes were closed, he was eventually faced with the stark reality of what he would need to do next. If he wanted to make this as least painful as possible for his little girl, he would need to try and increase her arousal. And so his hand started drifting lower and lower until his pinky was grazing against the waistband of her shorts. But then he suddenly had second thoughts. Was he moving too fast? Should he focus on other erogenous zones first? His hand started slowly drifting back up her torso, like the hand that had been threatening to slide beneath her shorts had been a tease. And then he found her breast. Taking it into his large hand, he squeezed gently. He tried to focus solely on the sensation of a young, supple breast in his hand. He went back to what he imagined in the shower, the faceless girl, and that's when his own arousal started to grow. The second he felt it happen, he slowly released her breast and went back to her stomach. His growing manhood at touching his daughter in that way had not only come as a shock that he was trying to recover from, but he also wanted to gauge Lily's reaction to what he'd done. ​ ​ ​

​

 

[echo]

LILLIAN ❝Lily❞ ADAMS xdaughter // pianist // his little girlx ❝My music is my passion, but my Daddy is my greatest song.❞ — Lillian Adams ​ ​ ​ Taking a deep breath, Lily did as he instructed, and laid on her back on the bed, trying her damnedest to calm her nerves. It helped when he had turned on her playlist to have something fill the silence and awkward breathing. She stiffened, only slightly, when she felt his hand on her belly, the gesture bringing back memories of her childhood when she wasn't feeling well. As his large hand massaged her stomach, she couldn't help but think about how surreal this moment was. How familiar his touch was, yet it had felt so very different now, and she couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had built up inside. The nervous energy was palpable and the song that had been playing, though one of her favourite haunting tunes to get lost in, it was not helping her feel any better about having it played with her father. She squeezed her eyes tighter when his hand shifted, and grasped her breast. She couldn't deny the pleasantness of the attention shown, but... her dad had been the one to do it. He was trying... trying to help her... "When will we finally.... breeeaaaathee?" The song picked up and she tried to relax, focusing on the music, but then the crescendo hit and she stilled his hand. Even though she could feel him hardening against her thigh, she just... couldn't. "D—Dad, stop for a minute," she stammered out quietly, her body still weak from whatever that damned disease was. Despite the weakness, she was able to lift up enough to shimmy her shorts down her legs. Dangling the cotton from her foot, she kicked it free from her foot, not bothering to close her legs. "I'm going to lose my nerve... if we're going to do this, let's just get it over with..."​ The days that followed had been... awkward, to say the least. The weakness had left her limbs, the exhaustion she had felt had gone, though her current fatigue had everything to do with her sleep. Since the tremors had practically vanished, although it had not been an overnight process, she had to admit that she was almost back to 100% functional. Except now, everything had changed. Some things were still the same, she had to admit. While there had been a sense of uneasiness at first, Lillian couldn't help but feel... closer to her father. Her mother had returned home the following morning after the 'procedure' had occurred and as soon as she witnessed a more improved Lily at the kitchen table, she could swear the temperature in the room plummeted with the stare her mother gave her. Not a word had been uttered to her since that first look. Lily had expected as much. She knew that her mother had been less than pleased with the entire situation and to come home to witness the aftermath of it, well... At least she came home, right? Over the next few nights, Lillian found sleep to be an elusive creature. Her eyes would close and her mind would play back, in detail, every second of that fateful night. 'D—Dad, stop for a minute...." Shaking her head to rid herself of that image, her mind refused and pressed on. The way his hand had stopped, almost as if she had slapped him. His shifting on the bed after she had kicked off her shorts, leaving her legs spread for him to wedge himself in. Her hand going to her sex with a mouthful of spit to slick her entrance while his hands pulled down his shorts enough to expose himself. She couldn't look, didn't want to see what was about to be shoved inside of her, even though she had been curious after feeling him on her leg. The feeling of his hand stroking his thick member, rubbing the tip against her opening, gauging the entrance and giving her some sort of idea of what was about to pierce her. Her eyes would always open then, her hand gripping her shirt between her breasts, her breathing always ragged, and that tingling between her legs always present when thinking back on it. It had been painful, that she would never deny. He had been larger than what she would have thought possible, and he had filled her to the point she had thought she would break. But it had been the sounds he had made that made her belly flip. His guttural moan when he filled her with his 'cure', pumping into her deep and hard and... She had never heard such a sound and she wondered, in the days that had followed, it had played on repeat in the back of her mind when the urge to touch herself became too strong. She had wondered if she hadn't of stopped him, would his fingers have continued on, the way her fingers had? Slipping between her folds, circling around the swollen, sensitive bud, would he have dipped one finger into her tiny hole, patiently stretching her to add another? Or would he... Her alarm sounded, stopping her mid-question and mid-stroke. "Sonofa—" She would have hit the snooze and at least finished herself off, but the sound of shouting coming from outside her bedroom door decided for her. Throwing back her sheets, she got up, grabbed a few items from her closet and then ventured out into the hallway to make a beeline for the bathroom. "Henry—you don't fucking understand," she heard her mother say from downstairs as she slipped into the bathroom. Closing the door, and quickly turning on the water in hopes of drowning out yet another argument before heading to school for the day. When was it going to end? Then, her fingers went numb... Standing in the shower with her hair still soapy with the shampoo she had just massaged in, the tips of her fingers had tingled as if they were asleep, but then the feeling altogether left. "No..." she whispered, trying not to panic. Quickly rinsing her hair of the shampoo, she didn't bother to condition it as she turned back around to turn off the water. Wrapping the towel around herself and stepping out of the shower, she began to shake her hands, trying to get the blood to go back into them, or at least, that's what she thought she was doing. Lifting her hand to her face, she tried to hold it steady. The tremors were back... Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Lily calmly dried herself off and got dressed. There was no way she was going to mention any of it to her mother, not that she would speak to her even if she did try to tell her that something wasn't right. Instead, she waited for her mother to leave the house for work before even going downstairs. "Morning, Dad," she said quietly, finally coming into the kitchen. "Rough start?" He looked defeated when she walked in. Sitting on a barstool at the counter with his forehead in his hand, staring off into his coffee. He had looked up when she entered, a small smile managing to make it on his handsome face. "I know mom's been giving you a hard time, and I seriously don't want to piss her off any more than she is already, but..." she paused, coming a bit closer to him, not concealing her worry. "Something isn't right... or, I don't know, but the tremor is coming back..." Lifting her hand so he could see what she had meant. "I'm so sorry, Daddy... I didn't mean for it to come back..." ​ ​ ​

​

 

[Jack Grayson]

HENRY ADAMS xHusband// Father // Genetic Anomalyx "A daughter never really outgrows her daddy's lap"​ ​ Needless to say, he was glad he decided to touch her breast first because even that proved to be too much for his little girl to take. The second she told him to stop, he instantly pulled his hand away from her body and felt an intense wave of guilt wash over him. Had he been going about this all wrong? Were his attempts at trying to set a mood too weird? Maybe the fact that he had started by trying to rub her stomach brought back too many memories of her childhood? Henry was in the midst of silently cursing his own stupidity, thinking that he'd ruined everything, when he saw his daughter begin to shimmy out of her shorts. She explained that she was going to lose her nerve if they didn't just get it over with, and he nodded, showing her that he understood completely. And he did. If this was how she wanted to do it, then this was how they would do it. He watched as his daughter attempted to prepare herself, stimulating herself with saliva coated fingers, and it was then that Henry decided to make an executive decision. Getting on top of her would likely prove to be too much for, he reasoned, so he rolled her onto her side so she was facing away from him, so she could imagine that this wasn't her father if that's what she wanted to do. It was also better for him, not having to see his little girl's face and the hesitancy that would likely be written all over it that would make him feel even guiltier for what he was doing. Grabbing her hip, he prompted her to stick her backside out just a bit until he was able to see her glistening, pink womanhood. He tried to make that and her round ass the sole focus of his thoughts as he started to stroke himself. The initial rejection had caused him to go soft, but he was able to get himself back on track now that he had the right visual stimulation. She was the faceless girl again, and in his mind she was desperate to be fucked. He closed his eyes to imagine what her desperate pleas might sound like, and soon enough he found himself hard in his hand. Knowing there was no time for hesitation, he quickly started sliding his tip through her delicate folds, his body shivering from the feeling of her warmth, and once he felt like he was slick enough to ease his entry, he positioned his tip against her entrance and pushed himself inside. Once her body had enveloped his tip, he remembered her request, to get this over with. And that's when he bucked his hips somewhat firmly, tearing through that fleshy barrier that marked her virginity. That sensation in particular took him out of the little fantasy he had concocted, but he knew he couldn't stop now. Luckily, the sensation of the girl's tightness proved to be enough of a distraction for him to be unable to think of anything else. Grabbing her hip for leverage, he started thrusting, focusing on the sensation of her snug walls being forced to stretch to accommodate his girth, and before long, it happened. Keeping himself deeply hilted in the girl, he emptied himself inside of her, flooded her. The second it happened, his eyes shot open as he was forced to face what he had done. He tried his best to stifle a groan, but the animalistic sound he made was unavoidable. It was an immensely intense orgasm that felt far too good, and that only served to make him feel even guiltier about it. But at least it was done. He kept himself inside her through the duration of his orgasm to ensure she received as much of the cure as possible, his manhood twitching and throbbing inside of her, but once he was certain that he had no more left to give, he immediately pulled himself out of her and pulled up his shorts. Tenderly squeezing her arm, he said, "We're done… Now try and get some rest, okay?" As he left her room, he felt like he should say something else, but what should one say in a moment like that? He said the only thing he could think of. Standing in her doorway, he said, "I love you, baby girl. I hope you feel better soon." Rest, it would seem, would not come easy to either of them over the following weeks. The cure had worked, which Henry was unbelievably grateful for, but curing Lily came with a whole host of other problems, mostly with his wife. He'd called Mia the morning he'd cured Lily to tell her that it was done. She didn't say anything. She stayed silent on the line for a few moments before hanging up, and she wouldn't return home for another day or so. Henry was prepared for her return though. He'd bought fresh flowers for the dining room and went out and bought all the ingredients to prepare her favorite meal. Mia was amicable enough, at least at first. They completely ignored any and all conversation about what had happened, but he started to get a bit nervous when Mia guzzled down almost the whole bottle of wine he had corked and asked if they could open another. Mia excused herself from the dinner table once she was done, and when Henry joined her in their bedroom, that's when she unloaded on him. She wanted details, but she didn't want details. She wanted to know how Lily reacted to it all, but she didn't want to know. Mia was drunk and was making so many contradictory requests that it was dizzying. All Henry could do was try and talk her down, reminding her that she didn't want to know about anything. It was over. It was done. That's all that mattered. They didn't need to talk about it. Things got better though, at least superficially, as the days went on. They weren't arguing nearly as much in the evenings anymore, but that was probably because Mia decided to ditch wine in favor of martinis, essentially drinking herself into a stupor every night to avoid talking and to avoid any chance of intimacy between them. She'd wake up hungover and irritable, but luckily there wasn't enough time to argue in the morning since they both had to get ready for work. It was far from an ideal situation, but Henry figured it would get better with time. Then, there was another fateful morning. Henry was sitting at the breakfast table, drinking coffee and answering emails and trying to forget the little scuffle he'd gotten into with Mia before she left for work. He looked tired and worn down, but he was trying to remain in good spirits if only to reduce the awkwardness of it all for Lily. And then his daughter appeared. He scoffed at her comment about a rough start, still looking at his phone, but then he recognized something in her tone. Looking up, he could see the all too familiar anxiety in her eyes, so he set the phone down and gave her his complete attention. "What's up, kiddo?" The tremors… They were back… Fuck… He gave her a somewhat blank stare at first as his own anxiety started creeping up his body, but when she apologized, his heart went out to her. "No… No…" he said with all the compassion he could muster. "This isn't your fault, okay? We're going to figure this out. I'm going to call Dr. Williams right now." Henry decided to make the call in another room so he could curse the doctor for what he had made him do without the results that were supposed to be guaranteed. But Dr. Williams was able to talk him down and opened the first available appointment he had that morning. Returning to Lily, he said, "Get changed. Dr. Williams is going to see us in about half an hour." When Lily left, he texted Mia telling her that Lily's tremors were back and that they were on their way to see the doctor. "Can't make it. Important meeting," Mia texted back. Henry felt a mix of relief and annoyance. As much as he might have been relieved that he wouldn't have to deal with Mia's hysterics, he was annoyed that she didn't want to be privy to what was going on with her own daughter's health, especially when her life was on the line. But, whatever… The appointment with Dr. Williams was as paralyzing and surreal as the last one. Lost in his own head during their little meeting, it was hard to remember all the specific details of what was said, but he understood the gist. After apologizing that the cure hadn't worked as it expected, he explained that perhaps the cure might take several treatments in order for it to stick. He suggested one dose, once a week for the next month. If that wasn't enough to send Henry into a stupor after what happened between him and Lily during their first attempt, then what Dr. Williams said next surely was. Lily needed to orgasm. According to Dr. Williams, the contractions and undulations of the vaginal walls during orgasm would pull his semen deeper inside of her, and the release of hormones would make her body more receptive to absorbing the active protein inside of it. The doctor asked if they had any questions about his new prescription, but Henry had been stunned into silence, but he eventually mustered up the strength to ask at least one question. "And what if the cure doesn't take after all of this?" Dr. Williams sighed. "Well… we know your semen neutralizes her symptoms… for a short time at least. If worse comes to worst, Lily may need regular and ongoing treatments. But let's keep our hopes up, yes? We'll give her a full blood panel after a month, and we'll decide where to go from there." Henry felt like he was in a daze as he walked out of the doctor's office and back to his car. The ride was awkwardly silent for the first bit, but eventually he felt compelled to speak. Nervously clearing his throat, he turned to his daughter and said, "Do you want to talk about anything the doctor said?" ​ ​

 

[echo]

LILLIAN ❝Lily❞ ADAMS xdaughter // pianist // his little girlx ❝My music is my passion, but my Daddy is my greatest song.❞ — Lillian Adams​ Once more they saw the inside of a doctor's office and once more, Lily sat in an almost stunned silence, trapped inside of her own thoughts. Dr Williams nonchalant explanations of the why's and how's this treatment didn't take should have made her feel better, but it had only added to the guilt she had felt that night when she— "...Lily may need regular and ongoing treatments..." The woman could have been talking in the Charlie Brown teacher's voice after that, for all Lily knew because the what-ifs slammed into her like a Mack truck. 'Mom's going to be pissed...', she thought. Odd that her first thought had been how her mother would react, but after the way she had shut her out the day after her father fucked her, she supposed she couldn't help it. If only she could go back to that night and just stay in her room. The guilt of it all had been a bit overwhelming, but her father had made it a point to ease whatever guilt of wanting to live... easier. It had been easy to ignore the fact that anytime her mother came home, she would go straight to the liquor cabinet instead of arguing with her father about the whole ordeal. And, at least she had stopped yelling. For the most part. Now, though... Before they left the office, Dr Williams had pulled Lillian aside to make sure she understood and to ask her if she had any questions. "I know that from your tests you were a virgin," she began in the same nonchalant manner she had used the entire visit, as though this whole thing was normal. "I don't mean to assume, but with you being 17 years old, I am sure by now you have explored that part of your body, yes? If not, I suggest you take this," she paused to hand Lily a pamphlet. "It isn't super graphic, but it has some helpful tips on climaxing. This part is crucial, okay?" With a smile, she gave Lily a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "We'll figure this thing out. You and your father are a medical phenomenon. It'll just take some time. Do you have any questions? I know it might have been awkward with your father in the room, but if you have any you want to ask, now's your chance." Lillian's mind went blank. "I—I wouldn't know where to begin, Dr Williams," she said quietly. "Why me?" "That's understandable," she said with a small smile, trying her hand at empathizing with the young woman. "I wish I could answer that, but I don't know why... I think a good thing to focus on is that we have something that can make you better. It might be an inconvenient means of treatment for now and you are luckier than most to have found a perfect match...Wam-wah-wha-wamb-wa..." The doctor returned to the cartoon teacher's tone as she was ushered into the waiting room where her father had been waiting for her. Silence... That awkward silence that seemed to be a new staple in their lives had been so thick it wasn't almost smothering, it was downright double-handed choking. "Do you want to talk about anything the doctor said?"​ Staring down at her trembling hands that rested in her lap after fastening the seatbelt, she tried to narrow the questions that were swimming down to just a few dozen. "Do I have questions," she scoffed bitterly, a tone she had rarely expressed. "This is all my fault... If I hadn't of lost my nerve and just let you do it your way, maybe it would have worked," she blurted out, the words already past her lips before she could shut the floodgate. "I shouldn't have said anything," she finally said, slumping back in her seat, feeling utterly defeated. "I—I just... want to go home... please," she sighed, turning her head to look out the window. If she felt horrible now, she could only just imagine how her father felt. Especially since he needed to tell her mother. Dread washed over her and the heaviness pulled at her heart for both of her parents. Because of her, they were at each other's throats... Because of her, her mother was turning into an alcoholic... Because of her, her family was barely holding on by a thread... Because...​ of...​ her...​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​

​

​

 

[Jack Grayson]

HENRY ADAMS xHusband// Father // Genetic Anomalyx "A daughter never really outgrows her daddy's lap"​ ​ Honestly, he was relieved that she didn't have any questions, especially since he was still trying to wrap his own head around this new development in Lily's course of treatment. He didn't know what exactly she would ask or if he was mentally equipped enough at the moment to properly answer whatever those questions might be. Still, he felt compelled to say something when she blamed herself for what was happening. As they stopped at a red light, his tone became a bit more stern, like he was hoping the change would allow his message to penetrate. Turning his head to her he said, "This is not your fault, okay? None of this is anyone's fault. This is the hand that life dealt us, and we're all doing our best to deal with it. Looking back into the past to beat ourselves up and see what we could have done differently isn't helpful. Hindsight is always 20/20. We need to look forward." The light turned green and he returned his eyes to the road and continued driving. He thought his advice was sound, but looking forward was much easier said than done, especially since they both knew what needed to be done. Not only had he stolen his daughter's virginity, but now he was going to take her first experience of pleasure with another man. He was already beginning to calculate psychiatrist bills in his mind after all of this was over, if it would ever be over. But his mind was more consumed by how this would all actually happen. She had already recoiled at his touch before, and he honestly didn't blame her for that. Would she be more open to his touch now? Or maybe he should suggest toys? Maybe toys would be even weirder. He was lost in those thoughts for the rest of the ride home, and once they were back, he heard his phone buzz in his slacks just as he unlocked the front door of their home. It was Mia. "Just got the summary of the visit from Dr. Williams. Going out with the girls after work. Might stay at Carol's. I'm sure you understand," she had sent. Henry sighed as he anxiously and frustratedly scratched his forehead. Ignoring Lily for the time being, he walked to the kitchen table and took a seat as he stared at his phone, trying to figure out how he should respond. What was there to say, really? He could apologize, but he'd already done plenty of that already and he sort of resented Mia for making him feel like he needed to. What was there to be sorry for? Should he feel sorry for trying to cure his daughter of her terminal illness? Instead, he just responded with, "I do," before letting his phone drop onto the table. Needless to say the man was anxious and stressed, but then his eyes fell onto his liquor cabinet. He'd been trying to avoid drinking, especially now that Mia was beginning a descent into alcoholism. Lily deserved to have at least one sober parent, didn't she? But Henry thought that if he'd ever deserved a drink, it was right then. After grabbing the bottle of Maker's Mark, he poured himself a few fingers and nearly gulped down all of it at once before pouring himself another. Maybe it was his current state of mind, but the effects of the alcohol went straight on his head almost immediately, and for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, he felt like he could breathe. He was tempted to gulp down the next glass, but then thought against it. He'd save that glass for sipping. More and more, the alcohol did its job, relieving his anxiety and making him feel warm. And that's when an idea struck him. What if he gave Lily a drink? Maybe two? There was a reason college parties were filled with booze. It lowered a person's inhibitions and made them more relaxed, more open and willing to the possibility for sex. Maybe alcohol was exactly what they needed to make this all less awkward for the both of them. He stared at his liquor cabinet, wondering what he could make her. He tried to remember what college girls drank. And then it hit him. Lemon Drops! They didn't taste like alcohol at all. They tasted essentially just like a particularly tart lemonade. Would she go for it though? She was almost 18, almost an adult, almost old enough to go drinking down in Mexico with her friends if she wanted. Maybe she'd already tried alcohol? After looking up the recipe, he made her a double, and took both his and her glasses out into the living room where he turned on the TV. "Lily?" He called up the stairs. "Come down here for a sec." When she appeared, he instructed her to take a seat on the couch, and after taking a seat himself, he said, "I know this is stressful, but I think this might help." He handed her the glass. "Something to take a bit of the edge off and just help you relax. Needless to say, though, this stays between us, okay?" It seemed that more and more, things were staying only between the two of them. "Let's just try and relax and take our mind off of things by watching a movie or something?" Grabbing his glass, he clinked it against hers and said, "Cheers," before taking a sip. Then he turned on the first movie he could find. He wasn't really watching anyway. His thoughts were focused on how half-cocked this plan was. But he needed to try something, didn't he? If they were both a bit drunk, maybe they'd be loose and carefree enough to actually enjoy what they needed to do without overthinking it. Enjoyment, after all, were the doctor's orders. ​ ​ ​

​

 

[echo]

LILLIAN ❝Lily❞ ADAMS xdaughter // pianist // his little girlx ❝My music is my passion, but my Daddy is my greatest song.❞ — Lillian Adams​ ​ She felt horrible for disclosing her feelings to the man who was caught in the middle... She should have asked Dr Williams about setting up some sort of therapy so she could vent to them instead of laying it all at her dad's feet. It wasn't as if her father was having the best of times being the only one who could help her. It helped even less that he was torn between keeping her mother happy and saving his daughter. Since Lillian had fallen ill, he had been the constant, not just because he carried the cure with him, but because he had been the only one who put his own feelings on the back burner. Now, with her mother reaching for the liquor more than comfort from her father, Lily felt the guilt of it all. Trapped between the want of surviving and not trying to tear her parents apart, she felt so much remorse. 'Why did I have to be born this way?' she asked herself as she sat down at her keyboard. She didn't know why she felt the need to play it, but Nuvole Bianche spoke to her mood. There had always been something magical about how Ludovico Einaudi took from the greats and made it their own. Only playing through the song once, the pamphlet lying on her bed practically screamed at her. Stepping away from her keyboard, she plopped onto her bed and picked up the folded paper and began to skim through the contents within. Most of the information she had been briefed on in Health class a few years ago. The sex-ed course she had taken back in the 8th grade had been lacking in the information department, but by that point in her school career, she had already been exposed to more than her fair share of the stuff. "Lily? Come down here for a sec." "Coming," she yelled out, glad for the distraction from that blasted paper that only made her feel more awkward. Coming down the stairs at his summons, Lily wasn't expecting what she had walked into. With the glass he had handed her, she could tell that he had already had a drink... or two. Taking a sniff of the contents, it held a distinct citrus scent, reminding her of lemonade. Lily took a sip and found it sweet with a bit of a sting, or as she had heard it described as "kick". She took another drink, more than a sip, swallowing the contents down. Looking at the half-empty glass, she quickly looked at her father, who had slumped on the couch and turned on the television. He picked up his glass and clinked it against hers. "Cheers", he had said rather bitterly. It broke her heart to see him like that, but she honestly couldn't blame him. He had been placed between a rock and a hard place and he was suffering almost, if not more, than she had been. She took a sip, though the drink had done nothing but make her regret how things had gone on. Leaning over a tiny bit to grab the glass from her dad's hand, she smiled. "I think we should just take it easy," she said softly, setting them down on the coffee table before them. "I don't think we really need it...though, after the time you've had," she added even softer, leaning back on the couch, and wrapping her arms around him before continuing. "I think you deserve a drink... or few. This whole situation sucks... I'm sorry you're stuck in the middle of it all..." She could feel the effects of the drink going to her head, even though it had only been one, it wasn't as though she was accustomed to alcohol. She had tried a drink or two at a couple of parties she had gone to before she had fallen ill. She hadn't been too big a fan of how it affected her. "Thank you, for wanting to keep me around..." her voice was quiet, a bit strained as the words slipped through her lips. "And I am sorry mom is treating you like it's your fault when it's mine. For being different... You have always been my hero," she almost giggled at her own words and she had hoped that her father would have found the same humour in her words as she had. "But really," she said, reaching over him to grab the remote, "I love you, but we are not watching this..." She squeezed his waist while she had her arm around him, then kissed him on the cheek. His head moved slightly due to her embrace and she ended up kissing more of his mouth than his cheek, or more of the corner of his mouth. She pulled away a bit quicker, realizing what she had done and the discovery of it not 'feeling so weird' gave her pause. Henry Adams... Her father had been her best friend and her biggest fan for as long as she was able to keep memories. And he was the only thing that made her want to move forward in life... to live... She pulled away, deciding to top off her dad's glass and probably fix herself the same that he had been drinking. "I won't tell Mom," she said, getting up and already halfway to the kitchen. "I'll be right back and then, I'll find us something to watch that isn't C.S.I., okay?" She made quick work of the refilling of her dad's whisky-bourbon and instead of trying to figure out what he had put in hers, she just poured herself a small glass of what he was having. When she got back to the living room, she saw how he laid on the couch. He looked defeated. Handing him his glass, she sat down next to him, deciding to go with 'Die Hard', something safe and not too much on the romantic or murderer side of genres. Setting the remote down on the coffee table, and then she placed his glass down. Taking a sip of the glass she poured herself, trying to hold back the cough the liquor produced, and failing. "Sweet Jesus," she gasped, the laugh slipping through as the buzz from the alcohol grew stronger. "How do you drink that?" ​ ​ ​

​

 

[Jack Grayson]

HENRY ADAMS xHusband// Father // Genetic Anomalyx "A daughter never really outgrows her daddy's lap"​ ​ He smiled when he saw her sniff the contents of the glass. 'It's not poison,' he wanted to joke, but he bit his tongue, maybe because he knew that wasn't entirely true. Alcohol was a bit like a poison that could disorient a person and make them act out in unusual ways. But Henry was a firm believer that alcohol just made a person more of what they already were rather than an entirely different person. If the person drinking did change drastically, it was probably because the alcohol finally let down their mask. It's part of what made this whole situation more depressing because if he felt like his wife's drinking was giving a glimpse of who she truly was. She was horribly insecure and jealous, which he understood and could forgive, but what was harder to forgive was how cold and mean and cruel she could be when he was only doing what needed to be done to save their daughter. But he was trying to not focus on any of that right then. He was just trying to relax with his little girl. And Lily appeared to be proving his hypothesis correct. His sweet girl became even sweeter and more affectionate as she drank. She apologized for the whole situation yet again, but before he could tell her that she didn't need to apologize, she was calling him her hero, causing him to get a bit choked up. After everything… after everything he'd done to her… he was still her hero. Their relationship hadn't been destroyed. Needless to say, he was unbelievably relieved to hear it. He was trying to collect himself enough to figure out an appropriate response when she wrapped her arms around him and leaned in for a kiss. Maybe it was because he was a bit buzzed, but when she leaned in, he could tell that the trajectory of her lips was headed straight for his lips. Was she trying to initiate things now? He made a split second decision. If Lily was going to be that bold, then he ought to respond in kind, right? Their lips connected, only for a moment, but he had most certainly kissed her back. And even though the actual kiss was brief, time felt like it had stopped. He found himself savoring his little girl's softness, the lingering taste of lemon. And when she pulled away, he saw a strange look in her eyes. The kiss on the lips had clearly been a mistake, which suddenly made Henry feel a bit self-conscious about it all, but he could see that his daughter was looking at him with what appeared to be new eyes, and he couldn't help but wonder if she had savored the moment in the same way that he did. But before he could think about it for too long, Lily was up to refill their drinks, explaining that she would be changing the channel. Henry laughed, albeit a bit awkwardly. He didn't even realize what was on television. He'd been looking through the TV rather than at it. His mind was too busy to really focus, so if she wanted to put something else on, then he'd let her. She came back, set down their drinks, and took command of the television. When she took a sip and asked how he could drink a whiskey neat, he laughed. "It's an acquired taste, baby girl," he said through his remaining chuckles. But as soon as he said it, his own words gave him pause. Acquired taste… He thought back to the kiss that he clearly had enjoyed. Is that what was happening here? Was Lily becoming an acquired taste? The rules of society and even biology all told him that he should be disgusted at the prospect of being physically intimate with his daughter. But as with alcohol, was it possible to learn how to enjoy it? Swimming in his own thoughts as the movie started, Henry watched as Lily decided to get a bit more comfortable by laying down on the couch and curling up with her head on his lap as she typically did when they would have a father/daughter movie night. As he started absently running his large fingers through her hair, the words kept ringing in his ears… Acquired taste… He stared at his little girl's body curled up against him. The position she was in wasn't so different from the position she'd been in that night. And suddenly it was like he had been transported back. He remembered the glistening, pink petals between her legs after he had prompted her to stick her ass out for him. He remembered how unbelievably tight she had been. But most of all, he remembered the pleasure that came with emptying himself inside of her, the way his manhood had throbbed and twitched against her internal walls, the way his eyes had rolled into the back of his head, and the unavoidable groan that flew from his bearded lips. In the moment, it had all come with an intense feeling of guilt, but guilt wouldn't serve them well, especially now that the treatments would need to continue, especially if Lily would also need to orgasm. Feelings of guilt over the act of being intimate didn't exactly help anyone get in the mood. And so Henry just tried to focus on all the pleasurable aspects of what had happened between them. And as he continued absently playing with his daughter's hair, his mind focused on how to spin this all in a positive way, he didn't realize that the thoughts of that night were causing him to grow aroused. His manhood started stiffening in his slacks, and as large as he was, there was no denying that Lily would be able to feel it with her head nestled on his lap. Henry was apparently too buzzed to notice. He was more focused on the idea of his daughter being an acquired taste. He tried to focus on the silkiness of her hair, on the curve of her ass. She truly was a gorgeous girl, especially when he looked at her as something other than his daughter. If this was going to work, he decided that he would need to try and start looking at her as a lover, and with alcohol running through his system, it was becoming easier and easier by the minute. ​ ​ ​

​

 

[echo]

LILLIAN ❝Lily❞ ADAMS xdaughter // pianist // his little girlx ❝My music is my passion, but my Daddy is my greatest song.❞ — Lillian Adams​ ​ Sitting on the edge of the couch, her fingers clutching the glass of amber liquid. Her mind was a fucking battlefield, thoughts slamming against each other like waves in a storm. She tipped the glass back, the burn of the alcohol scorching her throat and she grimaced as she inwardly argued with herself. 'This is insane. Totally fucked up. He's your dad—my dad—and you're sitting here thinking about his cock inside you like it's some kind of lifeline. What the doctor had said, some twisted medical bullshit about needing his proteins to survive whatever the hell was wrong. And now, on top of all that, the need to orgasm was thrown in? What kind of sick joke is this?' She took another swig, the warmth spreading through her chest, loosening the knots of panic and shame that had tied her up since all of this started. 'It's wrong,' she argued, 'he's the guy who taught you how to ride a bike, who tucked you into bed at night. You shouldn't want this. You shouldn't need this...' But the other side of her brain kicked in, relentless and loud. 'But he's also the only one who can save you, dumbass. You felt him before, hard as fuck. He's not disgusted. He's not pulling away. Maybe he's as messed up about it as you are.' She groaned softly, pressing the cool glass against her forehead, her thighs squeezing together as the memory of his groan, that deep, guttural sound from the first time, slipped back into her head. The lemon drop and finger of whiskey she had poured was doing its job, blurring the edges of her morality, making the impossible start to make sense. Settling on her side, she laid her head on his lap like she always did, and her thoughts drifted, unbidden to that night... The memory was vivid, a tapestry of sensation and sound that she couldn't shake, even now, as the movie's hum buzzed in the background. She thought back to the way his large hands held her in place, firm yet trembling with something she now recognized as desire, not just duty. Her mind lingered on the moment his groan had escaped, deep and raw, a sound that vibrated through her core like a storm breaking. Her thoughts swirled as she lay there, her cheek pressed against the growing hardness in his lap, the heat of him seeping through his slacks and into her skin. The groan from that night echoed in her mind, that primal sound that would not stop replaying... Lily shifted slightly, her head nestling deeper into his lap, her lips parting as she imagined what it would be like to cross that line again. Her eyes flickered to the TV screen, but she wasn't seeing the movie, her mind was painting a different picture. One where his hands weren't just running through her hair, but gripping her, pulling her closer, their breaths mingling as they forgot the boundaries society demanded. And as his fingers continued their absent caress, she wondered if he was thinking the same thing—if he, too, was remembering that night and craving the same forbidden release. Her fingers twitched, wanting to reach out, to trace the outline, but she held back, her mind swirling with the doctor's earlier words. The doctor's suggestion wasn't just clinical anymore; it was insane. The thought of being his lover, not just his daughter was dark and sweet, like the whiskey that had burned down her throat. Her fingers twitched again, restless, brushing the edge of his thigh as she remembered his hands on her that night, calloused palms sliding over her trembling body, gripping her hips as he'd thrust into her, claiming her innocence with every shuddering breath. The memory of his sex, thick and pulsing inside her, the way it stretched her tight walls until she thought she'd break, flooded her senses, and she bit her lip hard, tasting the faint coppery taste of blood. The alcohol bussing through her veins gave her the shove she needed. She couldn't just lie there, drowning in memories and what-ifs, feeling his length press against her face like a taunt. She shifted, slow at first, lifting her head just enough to glance up at him. His eyes were on the TV, but they were glassy, distant, lost in his own haze of whiskey and thoughts. Perfect... She took a deep breath, her heart slamming against her ribcage, and swung her legs off the couch, sitting up beside him. Her hand moved before her mind could catch up, resting on his thigh, fingers splaying wide, dangerously close to the straining fabric over his member. "Dad..." Her voice came out soft, husky, a little slurred from the drink, but she didn't care. She leaned in, her breath brushing against his ear, her lips hovering there as she continued, feeling his body tense under her touch, his breath hitching. "I felt you getting hard just now," she murmured, her hand sliding higher, cupping the bulge in his slacks, feeling the heat and weight of him through the fabric. "Right under my head. It's like you're thinking about it too..." Her thumb stroked over the outline of his shaft, slow and deliberate, and she let out a shaky breath. "You can tell me to stop if this is too much..." Her lips touched his jaw, tentative but bold, tasting the salt of his skin as she waited, every nerve alight, craving his response, dare she say his touch. ​ ​ ​

​

 

[Jack Grayson]

HENRY ADAMS xHusband// Father // Genetic Anomalyx "A daughter never really outgrows her daddy's lap"​ ​ Henry was lost in his own thoughts, finding comfort in the repetitive motion of stroking his daughter's hair and helping him ease the anxiety of the lascivious thoughts he was having about her. But then she moved, and when she briefly glanced up at him and released the pressure she'd been holding on his manhood with her cheek, he was assaulted with all sorts of realizations. First, he was hard, and his thoughts about his daughter had made him so. Second, Lily clearly knew. How couldn't she? Her head had been laying right on top of it. He grew extremely self-conscious and somewhat embarrassed, ready to explain himself if need be, if his little girl happened to be repulsed by it all. But then came the third realization by way of his daughter's quick glance up at him as she moved to sit up next to him on the couch. She wasn't repulsed. It was a look he recognized, though one he'd never seen in his daughter's eyes… a look of desire, even lust. The look both startled and comforted him all at once. It was confusing and disorienting, but this whole situation was, and he knew that he just needed to embrace it all. He needed to roll with it and not shy away, though that was what his instincts were telling him to do. He needed to welcome any sort of move in a positive direction from his daughter to hopefully make her next treatment as smooth and effective as possible. Still, his heart felt like it was pounding out of his chest, and it started pounding even harder when he felt her small hand rest on his thigh, dangerously close to the large and offensively hard cylinder that had created a tent in his slacks. The way she spoke his name made his cock twitch, and when he felt her lips brush against his ear, he felt chills run up and down his spine as he grew even firmer. Had he ever been so hard? He briefly wondered. It felt like the hard-ons he used to get when he was a teenager, being touched for the first time. Part of him felt guilty for being so aroused by his daughter, but why? It had been two weeks since his last release. Mia wanted nothing to do with him physically after Lily's first treatment, so it was no wonder his body was so receptive to a woman's affections. But was that the only thing that was getting him so riled up? Though Henry would be at pains to admit it to himself, he was beginning to realize that he liked the forbidden nature of all of this, especially now that Lily appeared to be completely on board. This was a fantasy for a lot of people, wasn't it? He wasn't a stranger to porn sites. He knew how prolific the Daddy/daughter trope was, though he had never quite understood the appeal. But now that he found himself caught in the middle of one, he was starting to understand it all too well. As best he could, he tried to not overthink it or to understand why. He just tried to live in the moment. "I felt you getting hard just now," she'd said, and somehow that made him even harder, making his manhood feel like it could burst through the seams of his slacks. "It's like you're thinking about it too…" Too?! He barely had time to think about the fact that his daughter had been fantasizing about them as well before he felt her thumb softly graze against his length. His breath hitched at the sensation and his cock noticeably throbbed under her attention, and though he felt absolutely rooted to the spot at that moment, he fought against it. This was a crucial moment. His daughter was brave enough to come on to him, and he couldn't deny her. If she felt rejected, that had the potential to ruin everything. Slowly, he turned his head to her, his lips dangerously close to hers as he said, "H-how can I not think about it?" As close as they were, he focused his gaze on her lips. "It's all I can think about. I… I need to…" His words were stopped short when Lily continued tracing his fingers along his length and told him that he could tell her to stop. Henry grabbed her hand, and for a moment it might have seemed like it was going to tell her stop, but he didn't. Instead, he wrapped his large hand around hers, helping her grip him so she could get a sense for just how hard he was, just how much he was throbbing. Then, he started guiding her hand up and down his thick, iron shaft showing her how to stroke him. He closed his eyes at the sensation and his whole body trembled at his little girl's touch. It all felt so wrong, but he couldn't shake the feeling that the wrongness of it all was precisely what made it all so exciting and arousing. Opening his eyes, he looked back down at Lily's lips. She'd kept her face so close to his. Did she want him to kiss her? Somehow a kiss, a real kiss, felt like it would be far more intimate than what they had done during her first "treatment." But if that was what she wanted, if that was what she needed so they could do what needed to be done, then so be it. "I love you, baby girl," he whispered before leaning to press his bearded lips against hers. He kissed her softly at first, removing his hand from hers so he could cradle her face. He felt guilty over how good it felt to kiss his daughter, how good she tasted, how soft she felt, how warm, but the adrenaline that came with that guilt only served to increase his arousal even more, especially when he realized that Lily was more than receptive to it. He pulled away from her lips, but only by just a hair. "That's what this is, okay?" he said with his lips brushing against hers. "I love you so much…" He didn't know exactly why he'd said that right then, but maybe it was because he wanted her to know that he wasn't just lusting after her, not just craving her body. His arousal had been for a purpose… to save her… because he loved her and he couldn't imagine a world without her in it. Needless to say, with adrenaline and emotions running high, the next kiss was far more passionate. His lips crashed into hers, his hand holding her face even more firmly. Lily may have initiated things, but now Henry felt like it was turn to take control. With his lips still pressed against hers, he helped to lay her down on the couch, positioning himself between her legs, his stiff manhood immediately finding and sliding against the growing heat of her womanhood. And it was that heat, the empirical evidence of his little girl's arousal, that flipped a switch in his mind. He no longer had to imagine Lily as a seventeen year old who wanted him. She was a seventeen year old who wanted him. Pulling his mouth away from hers, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, peppering that sensitive flesh with delicate little kisses as his cock continued rubbing against her. Slowly but surely, he was forgetting the fact that it was his own daughter that was beneath him, but he hadn't forgotten it quite yet, which was why he started slowly and tentatively kissing his way from her neck down to her chest, over her shirt. They were kisses filled with promise of arousing and stimulating her even more, the type of stimulation that would hopefully ensure the orgasm that they needed for this to work. But would she be receptive? As all-in as Henry was, the father inside of him wanted to give his little girl one last out… ​ ​ ​

​

 

[echo]

LILLIAN ❝Lily❞ ADAMS xdaughter // pianist // his little girlx ❝My music is my passion, but my Daddy is my greatest song.❞ — Lillian Adams​ Her heart was racing as his lips met hers. The initial shock of his response quickly melted into a flood of relief and desire that coursed through her veins, more intoxicating than the whiskey she'd been drinking. He wasn't pulling away. He wasn't disgusted. He was kissing her back with a tenderness that made her dizzy with want. His large hand cradled her face, the rough calluses of his palm were a delicious contrast to the gentle way he had held her. When he whispered agains't her lips, "I love you, baby girl," something broke loose inside of her chest—a damn of emotion she hadn't realized she had been holding back. This wasn't just about survival anymore. It wasn't about the treatment. This was something more, something deeper forming between them that both terrified and thrilled her. As his lips crashed into hers for a second, more passionate kiss, Lily's mind went blissfully blank. All the doubts, the shame, the confusion, everything disappeared except for the feeling of his mouth against hers, hungry and demanding. His beard scratched against her skin, a reminder of who was kissing her, and she revelled in it, the forbidden nature of it all sending electric pulses straight to her core. Her breath hitched as he pulled back from her neck, his lips hovering just above her skin, leaving a trail of heat that throbbed through her. His kisses had been slow, deliberate, igniting every nerve from her throat down to the tops of her breasts, still covered by the thin fabric of her sundress. She could feel the weight of his body on her, between her legs, his length pressing against her through their clothes, sliding against the damp heat pooling in her panties. Her mind spun, drunk on whiskey and the raw, messy truth of what they were doing. This wasn't just a treatment anymore—it was something alive, something she couldn't unfeel... Then, he paused... his breath ragged against her chest, his hands stilling where they rested on her hips. She felt the shift in him, the way his grip loosened just enough to give her space, a silent question hanging in the air. It was her 'out', her chance to stop this before it went any further. Before they crossed that line... again. Her heart slammed against her ribs, and for a split second, doubt flickered—sharp and cold. 'He's my dad... this is fucked! What am I doing?' But then, she felt the ache between her thighs and the memory of his groan began to echo in her skill, and the doctor's words slithered back: "Without this, you will die..." The whisky churned in her gut, blurring the edges of that doubt, turning it into something softer, something she could shove aside. "No," she rasped, her voice rough with need, cutting through the quiet, in spite of the movie in the background. Her hands shot up, her fingers tangling in his hair, tugging him toward her. "Don't stop... I don't want you to stop..." Her back arched, pressing her chest against him where his mouth hovered over her dress, her nipples hardening under the thin fabric as she pushed herself closer to him. Her hips rocked against him, grinding against his thickness, feeling the heat of him through the layers, and a low, desperate sound slipped from her throat. "I need this... I need you... You want this, I know you do... Please, just—keep going..." Her hands slid down, fumbling with the hem of her skirt, yanking it up over her stomach to expose the soft skin beneath. She didn't care how frantic she looked, how wild—she wanted him to see, to feel, to know she was all in. Her fingers brushed his jaw, guiding his face back to hers, and she crashed her lips against his, hard and messy, teeth clacking as she kissed him with everything she had. Her tongue darted out, tasting the whiskey on him, the salt of his skin, and she moaned into his mouth, her body trembling with the urgency of it all. "I'm not scared," she murmured against his lips, her words only slightly slurred with the booze but mostly lust. "I want it... I want you... Please don't stop... Not now..." ​ ​ ​ ​ ​

​

 

[Jack Grayson]

HENRY ADAMS xHusband// Father // Genetic Anomalyx "A daughter never really outgrows her daddy's lap"​ ​ If she wanted him to know that she was all in, then she had certainly made her point clear. Not only could he hear the pleading and desperation in her voice, so similar to the way the imaginary girl he had concocted in his mind had pleaded, but he could feel her neediness. He could feel the growing heat between her legs, the stiff peaks poking through her sundress. He swore he could hear her heart pounding just like his was. But his daughter's desire became explicit when she took it upon herself to lift her dress, exposing her lower half and her stomach. Henry thought that his own lust would grow to a point where he would forget that the girl beneath him was his daughter. Part of him had been hoping that would be the case. But it wasn't. When she lifted her dress, he was faced with the truth of the situation. Lily, he precious little Lillian, wanted to be fucked by her Daddy, but that realization didn't spoil the mood, not at all. Henry didn't understand exactly why, but the truth of the situation only served to turn him on even more. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that this was precisely the sort of passion that had been missing in his life. The one woman he had dedicated his life and his body to was now a drunk who was repulsed by him, disgusted, wanting nothing to do with him. But now it seemed that Lily was seamlessly sliding into that role now. She wasn't just his daughter anymore. This wasn't just about curing her. This was about connecting with his daughter in a profoundly emotional and physical way, and Henry was more than ready to let it happen. When she grabbed his face to bring him in for another embrace, his hands frantically searched for the hem of her skirt so he could continue pulling it up her body as he kissed her. She explained that she was no longer scared about what they needed to do, and Henry responded by whispering back, "Neither am I…" She wanted him, and he wanted her too. She pleaded for him not to stop, and he said, "I won't, Baby girl… Never…" They laid themselves bare to each other, opened up about their desire for one another, and Henry pulled away from her so he could pull her dress over her head and toss it aside. Sitting up and resting on his knees, he gazed at his little girl's nearly naked body with the eyes of a hunter eyeing his prey as he started unbuttoning his dress shirt. She looked so small, so innocent, and her desire was so genuine and so pure. This was the moment where he truly made her his, he thought, and in order to do so, he couldn't treat her with kid gloves. He needed to treat her like a woman… like his woman… because in his mind, that's exactly what she was. Continuing to look her up and down, eyeing the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips, and the panties that were now saturated with her arousal, he said, "God, you're fucking gorgeous, baby girl…" And he was being sincere. His daughter had a woman's body, and she was giving it, willingly, to him… her father. And while that idea might have made him squeamish before, it didn't anymore. All he could think now was that this was going to be the purest possible expression of his love for her. Once his shirt was unbuttoned, he tossed it aside like the dress, exposing the toned and hairy chest that lay underneath it. Then, he leaned his face into her stomach, just above the waistband of her panties and kissed her. He started kissing his way up her body, savoring the softness of her flesh, the scent of her growing arousal. He stopped at her breast, and without hesitating, he took that stiff, rosy peak into his mouth and sucked softly as he looked back up into his daughter's eyes with a fiercely determined gaze that spoke to just how hungry he was for his little girl's body. Letting her nipple escape his mouth with a little pop, he shifted his body upwards until he was hovering over her face. His more dominating and predatory instincts were starting to kick in. Lily might have even seen a somewhat different man in front of her. He was still her father, but he was also a man fueled by an insatiable lust, a man who clearly liked to be in control. He gently wrapped his large, calloused hand around her delicate neck, forcing her to meet his gaze as he leaned in for another gentle though passionate kiss. Then, with his lips brushing against hers, he whispered, "There's only one rule… You don't cum until I tell you to cum…" Though he was whispering, his tone was clearly stern, commanding, and as soon as those words left his lips, he slid his free hand under her panties and over her mound until he found that swollen and wet little gem that crowned her sex, and as he began to rub gentle little circles into it, he said, "Do you understand?" The rule he had established was certainly about control, but it was also about much more than that. He didn't want her indulging in her pleasure too soon because he wanted to share it with her. Maybe it was too big of an ask for someone so new to sex, but they were both so riled up that he knew it wouldn't take long for the both of them to reach their edge. And more than anything, he wanted them to cum together. What would be more special and more satisfying than that? ​ ​ ​

​

 

[echo]

LILLIAN ❝Lily❞ ADAMS xdaughter // pianist // his little girlx ❝My music is my passion, but my Daddy is my greatest song.❞ — Lillian Adams​ ​ Laying beneath him, her breath shallow and ragged as his lips met hers once more. The kiss was soft at first, a gentle press that sent a jolt through her, but when he didn't pull away—when he leaned into it, returning her hunger with his own—her mind ignited. He's not stopping... He's not shoving me off... He wants this too... The realization hit her like a tidal wave, washing away the last scraps of doubt that had clung to her like damp cloth. Her pulse thundered in her ears, louder than the whiskey-soaked haze, and she felt a wild, reckless thrill coil tight in her gut. This wasn't just about survival anymore—it was real, raw, and hers... Her mind was a chaotic swirl of whiskey and want, as he peeled the dress over her head and tossed it aside like it meant nothing. Fuck, he's stripping me bare—he's really doing this. The realization slammed into her, raw and unfiltered, and her pulse spiked, a frantic drumbeat in her chest. She felt vulnerable, sprawled out beneath him, but the heat in his gaze as he sat up—hungry, predatory—lit her up like fuel on a fire. He's looking at me like I'm his, like he can't wait to take me. Her thoughts fractured as he leaned down, his lips brushing against her stomach. The first kiss was soft, a warm press against her skin, and she shivered, her belly quivering under the tickle of his beard. Oh shit, that feels good—too good. Her hands twitched at her sides, itching to grab him, to pull him closer, but she held back, letting the delicious sensation build. His mouth moved upward, slow and deliberate, each kiss a wet, searing mark on her flesh. He's tasting me, mapping me like I'm his territory. As he trailed higher, her skin prickled, goosebumps erupting in the wake of his lips. Her stomach fluttered, a wild mix of nerves and need, and when he reached the soft underside of her breast, her breath caught. He's so close—fuck, he's gonna— The thought cut off as his mouth closed over her pert pink nipple, the sudden heat and suction ripping a gasp from her throat. Her back arched instinctively, pressing herself into him, and her mind blanked out, lost in the wet pull of his lips. Jesus, that's intense—his tongue, his teeth, it's like he's starving... The roughness of his beard scraped against the tender skin of her breast, a gritty contrast to the slick swirl of his tongue, and she squirmed, her thighs clenching as a fresh wave of heat pulsed between her legs. Her hands finally moved, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging lightly as she fought to anchor herself. The sensation was overwhelming—his mouth was firm, possessive, and the way he looked up at her, eyes dark and fierce, made her feel small, wanted, devoured. He's not holding back anymore. He knows I'm his daughter, and he's still doing this—fuck, that's so wrong, but so hot. Her nipple throbbed under his attention, stiff and sensitive, and when he let it slip from his mouth with a soft, obscene pop, she whimpered, the loss of contact leaving her desperate for more. Don't stop—please, don't stop. Her body buzzed, every nerve alight, and she knew she was past the point of turning back—whatever came next, she was ready to take it all. His hands, large and rough from years of work slid against her skin as he cradled her face, then moved with purpose, one wrapping gently around her throat, the other slipping beneath the soaked satin of her panties. The calluses scraped against her softness, a gritty texture that made her shiver, and she couldn't help but arch to his touch. The hand on her neck was firm, possessive, pinning her gaze to his, and she felt exposed, vulnerable, but fuck, it was electric. He's holding me like I'm his. Her thighs trembled as his fingers found her centre, slick and swollen, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that sent sparks shooting up her spine. She gasped into his mouth, her lips parting wider, tongue brushing his as she drowned in the taste of him—whiskey, salt and something that could only belong to him. The heat of his palm against her throat grounded her, while the relentless pressure on her clit made her squirm, hips bucking up to meet him. She was soaked, and the wet fabric of her panties clung to her skin, a messy proof of how badly she wanted this. He's not scared... He's not pretending... He's all in, and fuck, so am I... When he pulled back, just enough to whisper against her lips, his voice stern and commanding—"You don't cum until I tell you to"—her breath caught, a needy whimper escaping her. The rule sank in, twisting something deep inside, and she nodded. "Yes Sir, I understand," she rasped, her voice thick with luck, slurred, less from the booze and more from the heat of him. Her fingers dug into the hairy expanse of his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath. "I'll wait for you, Daddy..." Her legs spread wider, unbidden and instinctively, giving him room as she moved against his hand. the friction of his fingers on her was maddening, each circle pushing her closer to that edge he'd forbidden her to cross. Her hands fumbled down to his slacks, tugging at the zipper, clumsy but determined, her mind screaming one thing: I need him... now... Her breath came in sharp, uneven gasps as she yanked harder at the zipper of his slacks, the metal teeth gave way with a jagged rasp, and she shoved the fabric down enough to free the straining bulge beneath. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the thick outline pressing against his boxers, the damp spot at the tip, proof of how much he wanted this too. I need him inside me, stretching me, filling me—fuck, I can't take this teasing anymore... She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down with a desperate jerk, and his member sprang free, heavy and pulsing, the skin flushed dark with blood. The sight sent a jolt through her, her pussy clenching hard enough to make her whimper. Shit, he's huge—bigger than I remember... Her hands shook as she wrapped them around him, feeling the velvet heat of his shaft, the veins throbbing under her grip. She stroked him once, slow and firm, her thumb swiping over the thick bead of liquid at the tip, and her mouth watered. I want to taste him... fuck, where did that come from? "Please," she begged, her voice cracking as she spread her legs even wider, hooking one thigh over the back of the couch to open herself fully. Her panties still posed a problem, a soaking mess clinging to her swollen folds. Releasing his shaft, she made quick work of the lace on her panties, ripping the fabric to free herself without moving away from him. Her hand returned, fingers tightening around him, guiding him closer, the blunt head brushing against her bare, slick entrance, and she moaned. Loud and raw, her whole body trembling with the ache of waiting. Her thoughts spiralled, wild and unhinged. He's going to split me open... But I want it... I want that groan... That sound he makes... She rocked her hips, teasing the tip of him against her sensitive nub, the friction sending sparks up her spine, and she bit her lip hard, tasting blood. "I'll wait 'til you say, I swear," she panted, her voice slurred and frantic, "but I—I can't hold on much longer." Her nails dug into his shoulders, pulling him down until his chest pressed against hers, the coarse hair scraping her sensitive nipples, and she writhed beneath him, desperate for the moment he'd finally give in and take her completely.​ ​ ​

​

 

[Jack Grayson]

HENRY ADAMS xHusband// Father // Genetic Anomalyx "A daughter never really outgrows her daddy's lap"​ ​ He was playing her the way she played her piano, perfectly striking every chord on her body. There was no doubt in his mind that she wanted all of this. Why else would her body instinctively arch when he wrapped his mouth around her nipple? Like she was all too eager to feel him inside of her? Why else would she grip his hair like it was a life preserver and she feared drowning in a sea of pleasure? Why would she look into his eyes with that pleading desperation? Like she was scared that he might put a stop to all of this once he realized what he was doing and to whom? But he was all too aware of what he was doing and to whom he was doing it, but it wasn't that he didn't care. If anything, it made him care even more. His little girl wanted him, needed him. From a young age, he'd told he'd always be there for her, to provide her with everything she would ever need. He never would have imagined she needed this from him, but now that she did, who was he to deny her? He was her father. This was his job, to give her the world and more. That is not to say that part of him was still conflicted. Somewhere in the deepest, darkest recesses of his mind, a little, barely audible voice was telling him that this was wrong, perverse. But other voices were even louder, the voices fueled by alcohol, the voices fueled by lust, and the fatherly voice that was determined to provide his little girl with whatever she desired. But what silenced the little voice completely was the gasp that left Lily's mouth the moment he touched the bare, wet flesh between her legs. It seared itself into his memory. He'd never be able to forget it, the sound of his daughter's unbridled pleasure at his own hand. When she accepted his rule, his command, he growled his acknowledgment, appearing to grow more animalistic with each passing moment. She spread her legs wider for him, granting him even more access, and he took it, sliding his fingers through her soaking wet slit to find that needy little entrance just as she reached for his belt. She wanted to be an active participant in all of this, and he let her, continuing to stimulate her as she frantically worked to release his manhood from its constraints. He sighed once he was properly released from the confines of his pants and boxers. There was literally nothing holding him back now with his manhood free, rock hard and at perfect attention. He growled again when he felt her small, soft hand wrap around his thick, throbbing girth. He watched as her mouth visibly watered, like she was hungry for him, like she wanted to taste him. Is that what she was begging for when she pleaded to him? Whens he uttered, "please?" But before he could answer that question, Lily was moving, spreading her legs even wider and tearing at her panties to expose herself completely to him. It all brought a devilish grin to his lips that only grew wider as she started rocking her hips, teasing the tip of his cock with her bare, hot womanhood. She wanted this bad, didn't she? Good… because so did he. His expression suddenly changed when she reiterated her obedience. As perverse as it might have been right then, he looked down at her like he was her father again, eyes filled with love and affection as he stroked her hair and said, "That's my good girl…" But then she expressed her desperation, the fact that she didn't know how much longer she could wait, and his predatory, lust-filled eyes returned once again. Grabbing his cock at the base, he dragged his engorged head through her folds until he found her sopping wet little hole. His gaze flashed down between their legs, eyes widening at their size difference. It was such a large cock for such a small hole. As pleasurable as he knew this was going to be for the both of them, he also knew that it would likely come with some pain. He only hoped his daughter may come to realize that pleasure and pain weren't mutually exclusive, that pain could actually serve to increase the pleasure. His eyes met hers once again as his cock subtly pushed against her entrance and he said, "Daddy needs you to be a big girl… I need you to be brave…" He didn't know exactly why he'd said that, but maybe it had something to do with the mix of anxiety and excitement that was written all over her face. It was the same look she'd given him just before hitting the stage for her first ever piano recital when she was just a little girl, so in his mind it only made sense that he'd offer the same words of advice here. But he didn't let those words linger for long. As soon as he'd said them, he started pushing himself inside of her. His eyes flashed down between their bodies once again to watch as those delicate, pink petals between her legs slowly bloomed to envelop his tip. His whole body shuddered at her intense warmth, her intense wetness, her intense tightness. He was trying to be gentle with her at first, but his body was too eager. He couldn't hold back any longer. Once he had breached her with his tip, he looked back into her eyes just before his lips crashed hard into hers, and once they did, he bucked hard, burying his cock deep inside of her, only stopping once he felt his tip kiss her cervix. "Fuck!" he groaned into their embrace as he started thrusting. The pleasure was overwhelming, blinding. "God, you're fucking wet," he said through ragged breaths. "And so fucking tight…" He could feel his girth stretching her. She was so tight that it felt like he was carving out the shape of himself inside of her, turning her into a custom made sheath for his cock and ruining her for any other man. But that thought only aroused him even more. His manhood was already throbbing something fierce inside of her as he increased the force and speed of his thrusts. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, biting the sensitive flesh as the room echoed with the sounds of wet, fleshy slaps each time their bodies connected. They were doing this, really doing this, and Henry had never felt so unbelievably connected to his daughter, and it was only a matter of time before that connection, that bond, grew even stronger once they unraveled with each other. ​ ​ ​

​

 

[echo]

LILLIAN ❝Lily❞ ADAMS xdaughter // pianist // his little girlx ❝My music is my passion, but my Daddy is my greatest song.❞ — Lillian Adams​ She froze for a split second as his low, deliciously guttural growl rumbled through the air, a primal sound that sank deep into her bones like the heavy bass notes of her piano struck with force. Her breath quivered, eyes widening as the noise clawed at her senses, vibrating her chest and stoking the fire already blazing between he thighs. Sweet Jesus... that's not just a sound... that's him letting go, turning into something... wild... Her pulse hammered in her ears, wild and erratic. She'd heard him groan before, that first night when he'd taken her virginity, but this was different—rougher, hungrier, a promise of possession that made her dizzy with want. He's not holding back anymore, and shit, it's hot—but is this really my dad? The doubt flickered, sharp and unwelcome, a fleeting stab in her mind, but it had been drowned out fast, under the flood of heat pooling in her core. Her thoughts fractured as he pushed against her entrance, the thick head of his manhood nudging her slick folds apart. She felt the stretch begin, a slow burn as her tight hole resisted, and her heart slammed against her ribs. He's so fucking big—how's he even going to fit again?! Then, he bucked, driving himself deep inside of her with one hard thrust, and her world shattered. A sharp cry tore from her throat, half pain, half pleasure, as he filled her completely, the tip slamming against her cervix. The fullness was insane—his cock throbbed inside of her, hot and heavy, stretching her so wide she swore he'd split her in two. Oh! he's splitting me open—it hurts, but in a good way... he's too much... too huge... Her walls clamped around him, hot and wet, moulding to his girth like she was made for it, every vein and pulse searing into her. The ache twisted through to pleasure, a brutal mix that made her legs tremble and her fingers dig into his shoulders, leaving crescent marks in his skin. His cock pulsed inside her, thick and unrelenting, and when he started thrusting, each plunge sent a shock through her, the wet slap of their bodies crashing together echoing in her ears. Her thighs trembled, slick with sweat and her dripping arousal, and she moaned, loud and broken, the sound bouncing off of the walls. he's carving me out, ruining me, and I love it—but should I? That nagging doubt lingered, a faint whisper beneath the roar of her lust, but it only sharpened the edge, making her crave him more. The pain of his size faded into a dark, delicious heat, her inner walls fluttered around him, gripping him tightly as she rocked her hips up to meet him, chasing the friction. He's so deep... Fuck, this is filthy, but I need this... "Daddy—don't stop, please... I can take it," she gasped, her voice raw and slurred with need as her nails raked down his back as she clung to him. Her lips brushed his jaw, tasting the salt of his sweat as she nipped him, her teeth grazing his skin as her body shuddered beneath his weight. He's fucking me like he owns me... Like I'm his—and I so, fucking am, but God, he's my dad—what's wrong with me? The doubt flickered again, a shadow in her mind, but it fueled her, made her want to drown in the wrongness until it didn't matter. Her hands slid down to grip his ass, urging him deeper, the rhythm of his thrusts rocking her into the couch, her breasts bouncing with each jab, nipples still tingling from his earlier attention. "Harder," she rasped, her voice a broken mess of lust, fingers clawing at his taut muscle to pull him in. "I want it rough—I want to feel you cum inside me..." Her walls pulsed around him, her juices dripping down her thighs, soaking the cushions underneath her, and she wrapped her legs around him, locking him into place as her hips bucked up to match his pace. I need that groan again... that moment he loses it... I need it now... The pressure coiled tight in her belly, her body trembling on the edge, but she fought it, clinging to his rule like a lifeline. Not yet... not 'til he says... I'll be good... I'll wait... Her breath came in short, ragged bursts, every nerve screaming for release as she surrendered to the desperate, unyielding want driving her forward...​

 

[Jack Grayson]

HENRY ADAMS xHusband// Father // Genetic Anomalyx "A daughter never really outgrows her daddy's lap"​ ​ Though he was piercing her, the cry that flew from her mouth with that first hard thrust felt like it pierced his soul. It spoke to conflicting, primal instincts. It spoke to his fatherly instinct to protect his daughter who was clearly in pain, but it spoke even more to his instinct to dominate and own the woman he was currently engaged with. To him, it was a scream of submission, defeat. Lily was resigning herself to the fact that her body now belonged to him, and she was willing to suffer through the intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure that came with him possessing her. And then he felt the tension in her body begin to ease as pure pleasure took center stage, feeling her walls clench even tighter around his width, almost like she was searching for the feeling of that initial stretch. Daddy—don't stop, please… I can take it… He registered the fact that it was his daughter who was speaking, but she sounded so different. Was this really the mild mannered girl he had raised? She wasn't so mild anymore now, was she? Now that she was begging her father to continue fucking her? Of course, he had no intention of stopping, but her words were certainly encouraging. He'd told her to be a big girl, to be brave, and she was being all of those things. He felt the way she dragged her nails hard against his back, the way she nipped at his jaw, and for some reason it filled him with a sense of pride. Was it possible that Lily took after him when it came to sexual matters? Did she have the propensity to turn into an animal like he did? He wanted to tell her that she didn't need to hold back, that she could scratch him harder, she could bite him harder, that he didn't care if she drew blood or left any lasting marks. But before he could formulate any sort of words, she spoke first. She wanted it harder… She wanted it rough… And right then, time seemed to stop. Had he heard correctly? His own wife had insisted that he was too large for anything too rough. Occasionally, he'd lose control with her, and she'd berate him afterwards for hurting her. But here was his young daughter, so green when it came to sex, and she was pleading for him to have his way with her, to hold nothing back and eventually fill her. Maybe it was all due to the intensity of the moment, but part of him couldn't shake the feeling that they were somehow destined for each other, that this—what they were currently engaged in–was somehow destined. As perverse as it sounded, it almost felt like he'd made her in order to satisfy his more animalistic appetites, appetites that hadn't been truly satisfied in so very long. But now it was time for him to indulge. He plunged his large hand into the hair at the back of her and grabbed a fistful before tugging, forcing her to look up at him. "You want Daddy to be rough?" He said sternly, his lips brushing against hers as he started pistoning himself in and out of her, as he looked down at her with a fiery and determined gaze, each thrust ending with hard knock on the entrance to her womb, each thrust ending with an louder, more violent slap of flesh against flesh. She gave him no reason to think it was too much, that he was being too rough. The legs that wrapped around his waist and arousal seeping out of her and coating his large, heavy balls told him everything he needed to know. "You like… when Daddy…makes you… hurt?" he said through increasingly ragged breaths. "Is that… what you … need to… cum?" Apparently so… Because before long, he felt the tension beginning to build in her body. As close as their bodies were, he could feel her abdominal muscles begging to quiver and shake. And if the physical pleasure wasn't enough to send him flying over the edge of his release, then the fact that he could tell his little girl was trying her best to keep her own orgasm at bay certainly was. His lips crashed against hers as the grip on her hair tightened even more, as he started thrusting even harder like was actively trying to split her in two. Their bodies were sweaty, her slippery breasts and her nipples sliding against his hairy chest, and he relished in every single sensation as his pleasure mounted, as he felt his manhood become so hard that it bordered on painful. He tried to hold out for as long as he could, knowing that it would eventually lead to even more intense releases for both of them, but at a certain point it became too much to stand, and he knew his little girl was hanging on by a thread. "Go ahead… baby girl… Daddy wants you cu—" he said, but before he could even finish he felt Lily's internal walls clench down hard around his width like a vise. Her body was demanding his seed, and he was helpless to its call. Bucking hard, he kept himself hilted and groaned loudly and ferally as he started flooding his daughter with his hot, thick, and sticky seed. The initial euphoria was so intense that it was blinding. He lost his vision, only able to see white light, and he lost most of his hearing, save for a loud ringing in his ears. His whole body was vibrating, trembling. Frantically, he searched for something to ground him, and that's when his face instinctively found the crook of her neck, breathing in his daughter's scent and tasting the salt of her sweat as he started thrusting through each subsequent spurt inside of her. "Fuck," he groaned into her neck as the rest of his senses returned to him. It all felt far too good, the feeling of womanhood filled with warm seed, the feeling of his pulsating manhood stretching her with each emission, the feeling of his essence already beginning to seep out of her. And then he was done, reduced to a panting, sweaty mess on top of his daughter with his twitching cock still buried deep inside of her and the last little trickles left his tip. He kissed her sweaty neck and worked his way up her jaw as he said, "I love you, baby girl… I love you so much…" Eventually, he found her lips, but the aggression had all but vanished. Releasing the hair he'd been clutching, he kissed her neck softly, tenderly. The stark reality of what had just happened, of what they had just done, was starting to burrow its way into his mind. By no means had this all been a "procedure." What they had done had been raw, real, and he wanted to savor the delightful bliss for as long as he could. He didn't want to think about the possible embarrassment or regret his daughter might end up feeling once she came down. He'd cross that bridge when he reached it. ​ ​ ​

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[echo]

LILLIAN ❝Lily❞ ADAMS xdaughter // pianist // his little girlx​ ❝My music is my passion, but my Daddy is my greatest song.❞ — Lillian Adams​ ​ She lay pinned beneath him, her body a live wire of sensation as his words cut through the haze of lust and lemon dropped whiskey. "You want Daddy to be rough?"​ His voice was a low, stern growl that sent a delicious shiver racing down her spine. Her breath caught, eyes widening as the question echoed in her skull and it hit her like a slap—she hadn't even realized she'd begged for it until he had repeated it back to her. Fuck... did I really say that out loud? Her mind reeled, a chaotic swirl of heat and shame, the memory of her own voice pleading for harder, rough burning her cheeks. I didn't mean to—wait, maybe I did... maybe I meant every word... The realization twisted something deep inside her, a knot of raw need that made her squirm, her hips bucking against the couch as he drove into her, relentless and thick. His thrusts were brutal now, each one slamming her deeper into the cushions, each movement deliberate and forceful, her body responded before her mind could. The wet slap of their bodies filled the room with a filthy rhythm as she moaned, a low husky sound that tore from her and vibrated in her throat. Her hips rose to meet his rhythm despite the ache that lingered from his size, her walls clenching tight around him as he stretched her wide. Her back arching, hips bucking to match his pace, chasing the searing heat of him. Her nails dug into his skin, sure to leave red trails in their trek, and she groaned, loud and unashamed, at the pressure of the head of his cock brushing against her cervix was both painful and exquisite. She panted, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps, her chest heaving as her breasts—nipples hard and sensitive—rubbed against his chest hair. He's giving me exactly what I asked for—rough, raw, like he owns me. She wasn't this person, was she? The shy girl who'd always kept her desires locked away? Yet here she was, matching his thrusts, her hips rolling to chase the friction, her moans growing louder, more desperate. God, what's happening to me? "Ohhh... Daddy, please..." she groaned, the words slipping out before she could stop them. The sweet spot at her centre throbbed, swollen and slick, each movement, each grind of his pelvis sent sparks of pleasure shooting through her. She squirmed, her calves tightening around her, toes curling as the tension in her core built, a coil winding tighter and tighter. She didn't care about the disease anymore, or the cure—just this, just him, just the way he filled her, stretched her, owned her in this moment. Her body a trembling mess as his relentless thrusts drove her closer to the edge she'd been fighting. His words— "Go ahead, baby girl, Daddy wants you to c—"​ That sentence unlocked something inside her, a permission that snapped the thin thread of control she'd been clinging to. Her climax hit like a wave crashing over her, not violent or crude, but a deep, rolling surge that started in her core and radiated outward. A scream tore from her throat as her walls clamped down around him, pulsing in frantic waves. Her vision blurred, stars bursting behind her eyes as her abdominal muscles quivered uncontrollably. It felt like liquid warmth spilling through her, softening every tense muscle as her walls pulsed around him, a gentle, rhythmic embrace that matched the fading ache of his size. Her breath caught, then released in a soft, shuddering moan, her chest heaving as the sensation washed over her, leaving her lightheaded and tingling, like she'd dissolved into him. God—this is what I needed, what I didn't even know I could feel. Her thighs shook violently, her fingers gripping his arms so hard she was sure she'd leave marks. "Fuuuck…" she whimpered, the word raw and uncharacteristic, drawn out as the aftershocks rippled through her. Her walls continued to flutter around him, each pulse milking his seed deeper, the sticky heat of it filling her, seeping out around his shaft in slow, creamy rivulets. Her father's lips found her neck, soft and tender now, a stark contrast to the ferocity of moments before. "I love you, baby girl… I love you so much…" he murmured against her skin, his kisses trailing along her jaw. The words wrapped around her heart, grounding her in the aftermath of their shared intensity. She felt the weight of his body, the warmth of his breath, the steady throb of him still inside her, softening but present. Her chest tightened with emotion, a mix of gratitude, relief, and something deeper, something she couldn't name. "I love you too, Daddy," she whispered, her voice hoarse but steady, her fingers threading gently through his hair. "So much… I—I didn't know it could feel like this." Her eyes glistened, not with tears but with a quiet awe. She shifted slightly, wincing at the soreness between her thighs, but the discomfort only made her feel more connected to him, to what they'd done. The disease, the cure—it had brought them here, to this raw, unfiltered moment, and she didn't regret a second of it. She tilted her head, seeking his lips, and kissed him softly, her tongue brushing against his with a tentative sweetness. "Thank you… for saving me," she added, her words barely audible, but heavy with meaning. The room was quiet now, save for their breathing and the faint creak of the couch as he shifted to hold her closer. Outside, the world continued, oblivious to the strange, vital ritual they'd performed. Lily's mind drifted, wondering what came next—not just for her health, but for them, for this bond that had shifted into something new, something unbreakable. She nestled against him, her body still humming, content to stay in his arms for as long as he'd let her.​ ​ ​

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