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Having moved to America quite a long time ago, and spending a large chunk of his life in Utah, William has grown comfortably accustomed to most things. A bit of home slang has been long removed from his dictionary and it didn’t take long for him to get used to smaller, yet crucial things like the Fahrenheit scale or driving on the right side of the road.
But the weather was one thing he still hasn’t gotten used to.
Heat in particular. In fact, he’s not very good with heat at all. And that’s why he's suffering so from the spiteful sun beaming down onto him, the dry air almost making him miss he was still with the usual humidity back at home in spite of the atrocious weather. It didn’t take long for a migraine to creep itself onto him, along with the searing fatigue he could feel throughout his body. A little pathetic, maybe. To be so weakened by a bit of summer heat - perhaps he could blame it on age too. An old bastard (Michael’s words!) just doesn’t mix well with the sun, supposed.
Though, it mostly boils down to the lack of needing to deal with this sort of thing in William’s case. He won’t compare himself to a vampire - that’s something a young lad version of William would do, and thinking of that embarrasses him to no end - but hiding from the scorching flare of light amongst the shadowed shade beneath the porch felt almost cathartic. He thinks maybe he’s taken the hideous rain from home for granted.
A hymn of childish giggles snapped him out of his sulking, reminding him of why he was out here in the first place. His tired eyes wandered up, to be met with imagery you’d only see either in a little girl’s storybook or a perverts drunken fantasy.
A frail, little doll that resembled a human girl was carelessly frolicking through the grass, her sights set on a milky white rabbit - had to be a baby, the little thing - that happened to have made its way onto their property. Only inches apart from the animal, she plopped herself onto her knees - her porcelain skin could so easily be scruffed or bruised from landing on even something like the soft grass below her, William concerned. Her body, draped in the tiniest little sundress that barely even covered her thighs, leaned forward, making her pigtails droop - the type of hairstyle she’d usually wear only on special occasions, perhaps she was in a good mood today - along with one of her puffed-out short sleeves sliding off her shoulder just a bit, revealing more of her airy skin. The whole scene had William feeling like a wave came crashing down on his heart, his migraine suddenly disappearing and the ache and blood rushed down to his loins instead. Precocious innocence. A blooming oleander. He wonders if she, an angel, is unaware of her own demoniac allure - and that one day she’ll surely be the death of him. She extended her arm out to the lone rabbit, apparently offering it the slowly melting ice cream in her hand.
Right. Ice cream. That’s why he was forced out of the house. The little doll being his daughter can’t control herself when she hears that damned ice cream truck outside, and if he refused she surely would have whined and cried for hours. Spoiled, she’s quite spoiled - but it’s not like he does it on purpose. The little minx has him wrapped around her finger, he just isn’t capable of telling her no when she’s had his heart captured and locked tight since the day she was born.
Now, William is no pervert or nonce.. he claims. He wouldn’t be allowed to work with children everyday if that were the case. He doesnt hobby in stalking elementary schoolers walk home all alone, he finds no sexual gratification when watching little girls run around his establishment in dresses and skirts that are far too short for their own good (how obnoxious) and doesn’t get excited when a man shows him pictures of his daughter. There’s men out there that are like that, but William can say with confidence that he is not one of them.
Elizabeth, his daughter, his precious, sweet little bride was a different scenario all together. The yearning that ignited in his heart was sudden for him too - he recalls that, just maybe, it began when she was no older than three. The girl had a peculiar disdain towards her mother and felt the need to be all over her father instead, almost territorial. Always passing by her mother as if she were invisible and running up to William to cry at him or jump on top of him for a hug, she’d manage to crawl onto his lap even if he were busy, wrapping her tiny arms and legs around him and kiss him on the cheek in an attempt to garner his attention. Sometimes while he was away at work, she’d even wail and sob until her fed-up mother had no choice but to put her on the rotary dial with William to stop her crying. She’s always been his girl, she’s always been tempting him from the start. His Lizbeth was practically begging to be taken by him for as long as he can remember, flaunting herself around him and taking any chance she could to force all his attention on her darlingself. Is it wrong that he’s simply obliging into her seductive whims? No, he doesn’t believe so. This is his daughter, after all. Her body and mind was his from the start. Besides, she’s far too susceptible to be soiled by some brainless, drooling boy that only has intentions to ruin her and run - or even worse, think they have the right to steal her away from him. She’s only safe with him, the man that brought her into this world in the first place. If she were to be ruined by anyone that’s his right alone, just as his right to wed the wife that came from him.
A small glob of vanilla dripped onto the grass, unbothering his Lizabeth. She reached her arm out a little further, the wild rabbit taking a hop back. Her head tilted, delicately, exposing a bit of her silk neck that William wanted nothing more than to kiss and bite at. With the sound of rustling bushes, the rabbit ran away from her, earning an offended expression from Elizabeth. She pouted, standing back onto her feet and licking the melted side of her cone.
“I thought you were boring anyway!” She turned the other cheek with a hmph and waltzed her way over to the front of the porch. Closer to her father. His head perked up at this.
“Just like you!” She locked eyes with William, playfully grinning.
“Ah..” William uncomfortably shifted in his seat, his clothes feeling tighter than usual. “No, you’re mistaken, Elizabeth. I’m many things. In fact, I’d say I’m anything but boring.”
“Uh-huh.” She hums, pressing the ice cream against her open mouth. She silently approached him, his heart throbbing with each anticipating step.
Close. So fucking close. She scanned him up and down, then made a face as if she saw something ugly. Surely, that couldn’t have been at him!
“Like strange?” She finally uttered out, and proceeded to do the worst thing she could’ve done. She sat on his lap. “You’re very strange, Daddy. You’re wearing this shirt when it’s so hot, you’ll melt for sure!”
William can only pray she won’t feel the tent in his pants. His flushed face could easily be excused from the hot weather, but it’s.. embarrassing, nonetheless. William isn’t the type of man to be flustered by anything, really. Back in his college days he’d gladly mess around with any vixen that particularly piqued his interest, but flirting or teasing did nothing for him. Completely composed and stoic, the image that everyone knew him by and one he was content with keeping.
But, God, this girl! It’s like every move she makes excites him.
William’s train of thought paused when she mentioned his shirt.. his shirt? What’s wrong with—
He looked down at himself. Hm. Right, that is pretty ridiculous especially when he was complaining so much earlier. He was still sitting in his dress shirt, which wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn't completely buttoned and his sleeves were rolled up.
“I’m quite fine like this.” He lied, leaning into the chair. “Don’t concern yourself with me.”
It wasn’t out of weird ego or pride to why he wouldn’t do anything about it after it was mentioned, in fact it was intentional he left himself like this in the first place. In his line of work, there are very specific, certain things he does for the sake of his (and Henry’s) business, one of them being unfortunate enough to leave some.. scars behind. It does sound funny to think working in singing robots for kids could affect you so physically, but in this case he can be blamed for that. Just a bit of an admittedly out-there system he created for the suits, that may or may not have malfunctioned, but it’s not his fault he’s too overqualified for working in such a place - his genius would be far more appreciated and convenient elsewhere.
He doesn’t actually care about the marks that were left behind from his own creation, it’s.. just..
Not something he wants to show off, is all. And it’s not because he’s ‘insecure’ about it either. That’s not a word that will be used to describe him. Ever.
“Hmm.. hm!” The little doll licked her lips to clean off any of her treat that were left on them. “I think you’re fiiiibbing.” She dragged out the ‘i’ - if that came out of an everyday mundane child William would have found it irritating. Not from his Elizabeth though, it was endearing, cute even.
With no warning, her pretty little legs quickly straddled him - that was the final nail in the coffin for him. She trapped him, having no choice but to be stuck with his deviant daughter. Even worse, the position she changed to was so, so tempting. Not only was she now facing him, but her precious flower was making direct content with his disgusting manhood. He can almost feel her bare pussy through her cotton panties..
William’s hand came down onto her hips, caressing them up and down - he wasn’t doing this out of perverse reflex, he’s doing it to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. He wasn’t.
She wasn’t wearing anything under the little sundress.
“Elizabeth,” He choked out. His head could explode. “Tell me why aren’t you wearing anything under your dress? ”
She barely had any reaction to his question when one would usually be embarrassed at such a thing. “It was too hot! I didn’t want them on anymore.” She said as if he asked something stupid. “Like how it’s too hot for you to still have this on!”
With an unusual motion - she proceeded to shove her ice cream into her mouth and hold it there - she used both of her now free hands to rip open his dress shirt. Well, that’s a bit of an over exaggeration. She didn’t necessarily rip open her father’s shirt, that would have left a nasty tear in it - but it felt like it with how hasty her hands were, much to his expense. Not with any mischievous intent, she was simply taking it upon herself to help him out, unbuttoning it until his chest was exposed to the air while William was frozen in shock at her fervor.
Elizabeth thought the scars were unexpected to say the least.
“Oohh.” She gawked at the marks that were sprawled throughout his chest, eyes lighting up in curiosity as she retrieved her ice cream. “Tattoos?” She questioned, raising her free hand to graze over them.
Her dainty, delicate little fingers danced against his scars, stroking them ever so gently when she noticed the coarseness of them. William thinks he could die any moment now.
“..Hurt?”
“…” William shook himself out of the trance of her doll-like fingers caressing his healed wounds, letting out a shaky breath. “No. No pain at all, dear.” He muttered while rolling up his sleeves to reveal the rest - might as well make himself more comfortable since she’s aware of them now.
“Where did they come from?” She hummed, a little twinkle forming in her eye - clearly captivated with the new information she’s gained about her father.
“Working.” It’s taking a lot of willpower to not squirm or flinch under her girlish touches. “So you can have a roof over your pretty little head.”
“You have a scary job!” She giggled, the little devil.
Her young weight pressed even further into his hard groin, he had no choice but to let out the faintest groan. Her gentle skin brushing against his rough wounds - were they always this sensitive? - along with her cherry that was covered by the innocence of her dress sitting on top of the tent in his tight pants was sending him into a plane of being where nothing else mattered except his sweetheart, his daughter bride, and himself. Would the neighbors see this and think of it as nothing more but a child playing with her father, or something more perverted? Would they paint him as a beast that was getting off to a little girl's touches? Maybe - but it didn’t matter anymore. And, well, if that were to happen anyway he has no problem eliminating things that get in his way if they intervened.
The hardness between his legs erupted into a tingle, and his hands unwillingly placed themselves on her thighs for support. He gripped them ever so softly, not enough to let her know he was on the brink of going mad.
“Are they that fascinating to you?” He questioned, feeling his self-control slip away by the second - but he couldn’t, he just couldn’t dare to taint her purity just yet. He must keep himself restrained for now.
“Hm?” Her rabbit eyes perked up, then shifted to her side to see that her ice cream cone had melted all over her hand. William noticed this after the feeling of her touches were removed from his body, interrupting his pure bliss.
“Oh no..” She whimpered. “I’m all messy n— nnphm.”
William did not harm his daughter. He did nothing of the sort of molesting her or anything that would ruin her adolescent brain. What he did was nothing more than a particularly forceful kiss - on the mouth. A kiss that was a bit too passionate to be considered normal between a father and daughter. It was out of pure instinct - the absence of her skin against his left him on edge, and if he didn’t calm himself he surely would have done something terrible. He allowed his tongue to slip in, tasting her vanilla saliva with her— as well as strawberry from her lips? She must have put on lipgloss.
As much as it pained him, he broke apart the kiss after a moment, letting out a deep breath as he felt the ecstasy in his pants disappear. What a shame - but she was left unharmed at least, you shouldn’t be plucking petals off of a flower that hasn’t even bloomed yet.
Even better, she seemed more concerned with the fact she dropped her cold treat onto the porch’s flooring than the kiss that was stolen without warning.
“You made me drop it!” She complained, flicking her hand to get off the sticky, gross melted vanilla. “You big oaf.. Ugh!”
“No, I don’t think I did, Elizabeth.” William chuckled and patted her thigh before standing up and taking her along with him. “But you did make quite the mess. How about I run a bath for us?”
“I’m big, I can take one myself.” She pouted, softly placing her head against his chest. “But.. hmph, okay I guess.. just cause’ it’s with you.”