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He can't believe he's doing this. He's a busy man, high up in the ranks ‘n all and an damn good mixologist. Busy should be his middle name, and alcoholic his last name, but that's besides the point.
Last time Gallagher agreed to anything his brother proposed, he got his ass kicked into next week. For what? Even to this day he doesn't know, but he reckons he got beat up for being mistaken for his brother.
Should be in the past now, but those guys who beat him up surely knew how to pack a punch. He's got fucking war wounds.
At least the ladies like them.
Anyway, despite the fact that his brother gets him into more than shit situations, it's his brother for fucks sake. Family and all, gotta keep close to them.
Well, he says this, but as he's stood by your front door being reintroduced to you after at least over a decade, it's a jarring experience. Not sure if it's really worth it or not.
You're still his little niece that he remembers, a kid with spunk and fire for adventure, curiosity brimming in your eyes. Now it's just mellow and curves for days.
Well, mellow is harsh. You're older, calmed down a lot more since he last saw you obviously. You've just got a pretty smile on your face, and he's sure you got that from your mother.
And your body is a lot more grown up now. You're in twenties (if his memory serves him right), and you certainly look it. Your tits are nice, and just from the curve of your hips, he's sure you've got a nice ass too.
He blatantly ignores the fact that you're his niece. His only justification is that it's been a slight dry spell, with the being busy and the alcohol flowing through his system on most days.
If he had the chance, he'd fuck any good looking humam he sees. He's got standards.
Tits are tits, ass is ass, pussy is pussy. He's not fussy, he loves women, loves everything about them, especially their assets. He'll preach about loving women until the day he dies.
“Gallagher,” His brother stares at him, more like a glare, but Gallagher's good at ignoring people's emotions. Comes with the job of being an alcoholic. Did he mention he was an alcoholic? “Take good care of her.”
“‘Course.” Giving his brother a firm nod, he clasps his hand in his, a firm handshake before his brother sets off.
He can't remember the exact details, something about a work trip his brother simply cannot refuse to attend. To be fair, he doesn't even know what job he works.
Details, details. He's more worried about the next case he's got slave over rather than what his brother's occupation is.
“Uncle.” Your voice is soft, less squeaky than when you were a kid that's for sure. Quite quiet as well, clearly you're uncomfortable. You probably don't even remember him, and now he's got to look after you for a couple weeks.
Yeah, he gets it. Hell, he'd definitely feel the same way if he were you.
Gallagher rubs his stubble, realising that he's not responded to you. “Sorry kiddo- spaced out there for a sec.”
Awkwardness rings in the air, and you don't help that fact when you make your own awkward laugh. “That's alright.” You then gesture to the kitchen. “Do you want anything to drink? Tea? Coffee?”
A scoff, because Jesus, when was the last time he had a normal drink besides water and alcohol? He knows his liver gets closer and closer to kicking the bucket each day, but still.
“You got anything stronger, sweetheart?”
–
It's been a few days since he's been here, and it's been pretty easy going. You mainly keep to yourself as you're probably still feeling nervous around him (to which, he tries not to take some offence to, is he that scary looking?)
But everything else is oddly fine. Slightly unsettling about how smooth sailing everything's going but at this point, he's not complaining.
Gallagher, feeling particularly nice today, decided to make lunch for the both of you. It's also an apology meal after he got blackout drunk on the first night he was here.
He's already bound to the sofa anyway, but he can get loud and difficult to deal with. Didn't deliberately try to get that drunk, especially how nervous you are around him, but he probably didn't account for the dregs that were already in his system.
“Uncle?” Must've smelt the food, he reckons. He's a connoisseur at making food, kind of has to be anyway, living on his own and eating shit food is no way for a king to live.
“Made some food- hope ya like it.” Dishing it up, he pushes the plate to you with a crooked smile. And that's when he actually looks at you.
Pink is a bold colour, it's the first thing that hits his eyes when he looks at you. He thought you might have grown out of that colour, but he guesses not.
And a skirt too, his lucky fucking day. He can't say he isn't staring at your tits, but they look extra supple in that shirt.
Shit, is he really that desperate? Eye-fucking his niece because no one wants him because he either is too drunk to fuck anyone or too busy, ‘cause you know, busy is his middle name.
Seems you haven't noticed his staring, but you give him a sweet smile after taking a couple bites. “Thank you, it tastes really good.” It's earnest, he can tell through the thickness of it in your voice.
“No worries kiddo.” His hand flexes, reaching up and ruffling your head. He doesn't know why he does it, doesn't even know why he calls you kiddo, maybe it's because you're family.
Or maybe because he's old, wrinkles threatening his features while you glow in youth. You're a college student now for god's sake, you'd obviously be young, especially compared to him.
He tries not to read in-between the lines.
Either way, you give him a gentle smile. Even after he messes up your hair, you're still polite. How the hell did his brother raise such a good kid?
His brother must've been made in a petri dish with his kind of behaviour. Gallagher must've taken all the good behaviour genes, whereas his brother took whatever leftovers he had. Sometimes he wonders how he got a hot wife and hot kids with the way he is.
Whatever happened to natural selection?
It doesn't matter anyway, one day at his old age, he'll settle down like his brother. One day, he hopes. If not, then the only companion he'll have is cheap booze.
After the lunch interaction, you don't speak to each other for the rest of the day. Same old keeping yourself to yourself. You only come down for dinner and make polite conversation, and all he does is stare.
He's a simple man, he knows this.
Currently though, it's late. Last time he checked, it's two hours into a new day, and he's watching crappy television with a can of beer in his hand.
He thought he might relax, especially because he's been catching up on paperwork. Not even babysitting can make him escape work. Too much to do and not enough time.
“Uncle?” Your voice is like a lightning bolt, one that's quick to register in his brain despite his inebriated state, his head whipping ‘round to take a look at you.
Relaxing into his seat, he takes in your full appearance. It's a fairly warm night, so you're only in a very baggy shirt, so baggy that he doesn't know if you've got just panties on or if you've got sleeping shorts on.
He hopes for the former, and he'll be luckier if you have nothing on underneath. He can tell you haven't got a bra on, your nipples already peeking through.
“Hey sweetheart.” It comes out a little gravelly, maybe a hint of a drawl as well, but he's hoping you won't notice his partially wasted form. “What's the matter?”
Fiddling with your nails, you gaze down at your hands and timidly mumble under your breath. Gallagher's ears aren't as good as they used to be, so he can barely even tell if you've even said anything.
“What's with the shy act? Here I was thinkin’ we were getting along nicely.” That much is true, he hoped that you'd cosied up to him a bit more, but now he feels like it's gone backwards.
But that's when you look up, and you've got tears watering in your eyes. “‘m sorry I just- I had a nightmare and-” You pause, sniffling a little. “I don't wanna be alone right now.”
Now, Gallagher can explain many things. He's a security officer, he should know everything about everyone, all for the job. But he couldn't give a single good reason as to why his trousers are tightening.
He's borderline drunk for fucks sake, he shouldn't be getting hard that quick. Well, he hopes it's only hard hard, makes it less noticeable.
Gallagher smiles at you, beckoning you to come toward him with his hand, to which you do. That nearly goes straight to his dick too, but he's trying to ignore what is in his trousers for at least two seconds. “Sit down, sweetheart.”
You look like a deer in headlights, but you do as he says anyway, sitting so close to him that a faint smell of your perfume reaches his nose and your thighs are mushed together.
Gallagher slings his arm around you, pulling your body close for a hug. Usually, he would be less forthright, but everyone likes a hug when they're sad, and you don't even complain either, in fact, you lean into his touch.
“S'alright now,” He pauses, and before even he knows it, he's got a hand on your bare thigh, stroking it gently. “Just relax with me.”
It feels like your eyes are burning holes into his hand, like you've gone rigid, but in his head, you're soft and pliable.
The two of you stay silent after that, and Gallagher has to pat himself on the back because he's such a good uncle, and he's being good by not letting his hand wander.
Well, as soon as the thought crosses his mind, his hand stills on your upper thigh, just shy of the hem of your shirt, before it slips underneath.
Warm is one word to describe you, flushed with heat underneath the thin shirt, but he's not complaining. You're also not wearing any underwear.
A slight surprise, one that's very welcome to him.
You're no longer looking at him, now at the television with such rapture. Like you're trying to ignore the fact that your uncle's hand is going to your pussy. And you like it.
Nudging your legs apart, his finger runs along your clit from your hole, then back down once again. Practically drenched, he thinks his fingers have gone wrinkly already from how wet you are.
Leaning in close to your ear, he mumbles gently. “This all for me, baby?”
That's when you finally look at him, and that's when he realises that your practically panting like a dog, pupils dilated like you're on a high, and it's exhilarating. “Uh-huh…”
He adds another finger to his ministrations on your pussy, rubbing a couple tight circles before sinking one finger into your hole, and that's when you gasp, especially when he curls his finger.
“Spread ‘em more f'me.” Not even a please, must've forgotten his manners. Gallagher's drunk, he has an excuse either way. But you do as you're told, spreading your legs as wide as you can, and you even lift your shirt for him to see your cunt.
“So pretty.” His finger curls inside of you, a hum of a moan slipping through your lips as you slip your eyelids shut in a pleasure filled haze. “Gonna make you cum just on my finger.”
Seems that you were really pent up, or you're just extremely sensitive or his fingers are that akin to magic, because you're already clutching his thigh and spilling out gentle moans.
“So fuckin’ easy- c'mon, get ‘em wet.” Feeling around a bit more, he evokes your release, making you clamp down on his finger to the point where he's vaguely worried you're going to cut the circulation off.
“Oh my- fuck-” It's breathless, borderline whorish coming out of your mouth, a hint of a moan in your voice leaves little to the imagination.
However, his finger hasn't stopped its ministrations, in fact, Gallagher's added another finger, curling in you and immediately jabbing at that soft spot.
Not even getting a chance to calm down from your peak, you gasp for air like you're drowning, still clutching onto his thigh so hard he's sure you've probably taken a chunk out of it already.
Considering he's made of muscle, he's impressed with some of the strength you've got.
“Uncle- I-” The call of his title is like a bucket of ice cold water mercilessly poured on him, but it doesn't hinder him from his original task.
Yeah, he's got his fingers knuckles deep in his niece's pussy, so what? In for a penny, in for a pound.
“What?” He says it quite loudly, he actually winces at it as well, but you don't seem to mind, especially because you're bucking your hips into his palm. “Use your words sweetheart.”
“I- I think I'm gonna- gonna cum-” Your voice tightens, much like how your cunt is over his fingers now that you're cumming on them.
Your juices pool into the sofa, sinking down and marking their claim. It gives the furniture proof of the sin he's committed.
Pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead, Gallagher slowly pulls his fingers out once your legs stop shaking, enraptured by the clear yet viscous liquid that still leaves a connection between his fingers and your cunt, even if they've left your hole.
“Open wide, baby.” Hovering just shy of your lips, you open your mouth wide to welcome his fingers in, licking and sucking them clean.
A lazy grin swoops his lips, very clearly pleased with the sight before him. “Fuck- shoulda come here sooner, gotta nice little mouth on you.”
Your eyes gaze up at him, piercing into him coyly. Reminds him how fucking hard he is, like his dick is going to suffocate in his trousers.
Yanking his fingers out from your mouth, Gallagher sloppily undoes his fly and pulls his cock out. Tries to not take the gasp of surprise you let out when you see it to heart, but his ego is low enough to believe it.
Seems like you know what you're doing, as you're already straddling him, hovering over his cock and lining him up.
You bottom down on him slowly, a hum of approval slipping through his lips as you slide him in.
“Uncle- hand-” Seems like the art of coherent conversation is lost on you, and Gallagher wouldn't be lying if he said it wasn't sweet.
He's not quite sure what you're insinuating, but he lifts his hand up, watching you grab it and immediately shove his fingers down your throat.
That's when you start rolling your hips, whining and drooling over his fingers like they were the most amazing thing to have in your mouth.
Gallagher's free hand clenches your side, guiding your hips gently, before slipping his fingers out of your warm mouth to have a firm grip on you. “That's it sweetheart, doin’ a perfect job.”
Eyes pinched shut and lips gently parted, you continue to lazily roll your hips, your face slightly screwing up from the delight his cock was giving you.
“Gods- wish you were my baby,” He pauses, lifting your hips up only to send them down again, eliciting a groan from him. “Coulda had you all the time.”
You keep a steady pace of raising your hips up and down, though it's slow and brutal, and although it feels nice, he can't help but want to feel more.
Slipping off your top, he presses his face in your chest, latching a nipple between his teeth to tug on and another to his hand to fondle and squeeze ruthlessly.
After receding, he moves to the other, efficiently sharing his brutal bite on your nipples to give you that extra pleasure. And also because he loves tits.
Finally pulling away from your chest, his hands leave your hips for both of them to pinch and twist your nipples, making your breath hitch far too many times. “Fuckin’ beautiful tits- love ‘em.”
Although Gallagher is a drunken man and quite likes you doing some of the work, he still uses his strength to lift you up and press you almost face down into the sofa, just so he's got a nice view of your ass as he fucks you.
He slowly slips his cock back in you, and it's so fucking easy to with how wet you are.
He's also tempted to give you extra bonus points for clenching around him as he bottoms out. “Y'like that?”
“Yeah- love it uncle-” It's a whine spilling from your lips as he starts thrusting his hips with sloppy vigour.
“Thought you were a nice girl.” A smack to your ass, and his hands lay there squeezing them and guiding your hips to meet with his. “Whaddya say to uncle Gallagher?”
“Thank you! Thankyouthankyou -'' It's a train of spit pooling on the sofa as you go dumb, dumb on the feeling of him hitting all the right spots in you.
At least you're not that lost to not be clenching around him.
“Perfect girl- got me hooked already.” Gallagher's fucked so much pussy he couldn't even count it on both of his hands, but yours was so deliciously tight, he couldn't compare it to anyone else.
Another smack, followed by a few more land on your ass, echoing through the house. “Gonna make your ass red fuckin’ raw- everytime you sit down, you're gonna remember my cock.”
Landing a few more harsh hits, and he can already tell it's going to bruise badly, which is more than fine by him, and he's sure you would've made a complaint as of now if you didn't like it.
He'll make it up to you in the morning either way.
Running a free hand through his hair just to get it out of his eyes, he focused on his cock coming in and out of you, groaning at the feeling being amplified merely by looking at it.
“Think- think I'm gonna cum- I-” Stumbling on your words, Gallagher heeds your warning, leaning forward slightly so his hand can reach underneath to your clit to rub tight circles in.
He's sure he can feel that knot waiting to break in him, but he's too hooked on making you cum to really notice it.
Clenching around him, you cry out your orgasm, hips jolting up and down his cock as your legs tremble and quiver from the release.
“Take it sweetheart- fill you up to the brim, and you're gonna like it.” He starts to really fuck into, feeling much more sober.
“I- not on protection-” It's small, one tired and gasped out just because of the searing overstimulation gifted to you.
“Shit- really?” The right thing to do would be to pull out, but something in his head, or maybe just being delusional, tells him to cum in you.
“Shit- might knock you up.” The thought makes him edge that bit closer to his release, which is already tethering the brink. “‘m gonna fuckin’- gonna breed you-”
You cry out, seemingly already close to cumming again. “Please- really want it-”
“Yeah?” Breathlessly spoken, he starts to rub your clit again, because he thinks that you deserve to cum once more before him. “I'll give it to you, baby.”
For once, he's glad he drank so much.
As you clamber out your final release, he joins you almost straight after, your hips stuttering again and his slowly down exponentially, oozing out those last drops of cum in you.
Gallagher moves to pull out, but you protest, mumbling it out. “Keep it in- please-”
All he does is chuckle and shake his head, manhandling you so you're now sat back on his lap, your back against his chest.
His hands roam around your body gently, caressing each bit of your skin, before a hand reaches your jaw, pulling it to the side so you face him.
Pressing your lips gently together, he grins into the kiss, before pulling away not long after to dot kisses all over your face.
“If you're hoping for round two, you might have to wait awhile.” His voice is far more gravelly than he had realised, must've been the exertions he's put on it as well as his body.
But all you do is grace him with a dreamy grin back at him, your hand absently grazing his stubble. “Mhm…”
Chuckling again, he takes your hand, and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “Besides- we've still got a whole week and a bit left, don't we?”