#;)))

Jack called your name out as he came, hard and fast to the thought of your little lips wrapped around something as innocent as that bottle. He would join you on the couch after his shower, spent and a tad guilty. You'd meet him halfway to the living room, helping him with his crutches and onto the cushions. You were always his good kiddo, weren't you?

------------

That brings us to where we are now. Jack could never live down the bottle incident - it'd been a lingering presence in his dreams, the occasional wet one he'd get when you weren't home. You're on the couch, splayed out in one of his old t-shirts. At the start of Jack's three days off, the two of you would have a movie night. Complete with snacks and wayyy too much junk food for the two of you, it was the perfect way to leave the stress of PTMC behind. It was your lover's turn to get the snacks, and he made a special trip to your local specialty market.

Your phone lit up - 1 new message from 'jackie-boo xoxo'

🐇🩺: I'm at your favorite place, Bun. The one with the copious amount of blind boxes and skincare, that's where you got your snacks last time, yeah?

🐇💓: yeah yeahhhh!!!! the one i went to w my girls

🐇💓: pleaaase pick up pocky and if they have that weird baby bottle yogurt drink !!! i went yesterday but they were out,, tf. oh oh! and they have those shrimp chips you like bb

Jack knew they were out - he'd been following you with your friends last night - but that wasn't important right now. He'd been right on time for them to get restocked.

He knew you well enough to grab three, juuust in case you got another craving. One for tonight, then two hidden behind the veggies in the fridge. You wouldn't peek back there, and Jack was too selfish to not be there when his daughter's lips were busy.

The drive home was fine - Jack was antsy about it all, damn you for making him feel like a scheming teenager again. If only you knew how much power you held over him, the well-respected attending, now putty in your delicate hands.

"Jackie!" You greeted him at the door, flinging yourself into his arms. You nuzzled onto his neck, inhaling his musk mixed with that woody cologne he'd spritz on.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist, holding you impossibly tight to his chest. It was domestic bliss to come home to you - and he'd have no obligations for the next three days, this was heaven.

You'd finally have him on the couch - you're sitting pretty in his shirt and lacy panties, and he's in a tank top and some old grey sweats.

"Gonna grab a beer, one sec - and you stay put." Jack gently commanded, he knew you would offer to get it for him. You never wanted to make your boyfriend exert himself when he didn't have to! You'd help him to his crutches or just do the damn thing for him, but he looked sure about it, so you let it slide.

"Mmkay, dad." You huff, looking up at him with those doe eyes he'd grown to love.

You were already halfway to littlespace just by cuddling with him? Good, makes the next part easier.

-----

Jack twisted the top off of his beer - you were still blissfully unaware, leaning into his side, just happy to exist with your daddy.

Your eyes were fluttering closed when the soft nipple of a baby bottle met your mouth. You don't flinch or object, you just part those innocent lips for your father and take what he's giving you. If you had half the mind left after slipping into your delicate littlespace, you'd hear the way Jack's breath hitched.

"Mmm!" Still half asleep and more than content, you hold the bottle and begin to suck. The lovely yogurt drink you were craving hit your tongue, the mango flavor sticking to the back of your throat.

Just as the last time you took one of these drinks, the bottom of the nipple was supported by your tongue as you sucked - god, something so innocent shouldn't feel so fucking dirty.

Daddy's little girl, his perfect lamb, his daughter. Jack couldn't fight the growing heat in his grey sweats. Should a father really be feeling so lustful for his...? "Daddy.." You absentmindedly mumble out between gentle sucks.

Oh, fuck morality. It's human nature to chase what feels good, right? So what's so wrong with this - Jack raised you, he's just reaping what he sowed.

Jack's palm finds his erection faster than it should have - he shoves the waistband of his sweats juuuust low enough to free his aching cock. His large hand wraps around the base, a firm squeeze as he realizes he's rock hard.

His erectile dysfunction? Good as gone. Who knew giving in to his lust towards his daughter - the one person he shouldn't have - would feel so fucking good? Jack bites his lip as he begins pumping his cock, his eyes never leaving you.

You're taking that bottle like the obedient baby you are, such a good girl.

It's taboo, gross, and perverted - it only drives the older man ever so closer to the edge. Fuck it, if he's giving in to sin - why not go the whole way? Ruin that innocent moment you're so lost in.

He stands up, you barely register the loss of his weight when -

"Dad..?" You crack an eye open, about to whine at the loss.

Jack is standing over you, pumping his cock riiiight at your face. You feel thick ropes of cum paint your cheeks before you register what the fuck was happening - what your father chose to inflict upon you.

He moans your name almost mockingly. Stupid little girl, how did you not know what was happening mere inches away from you? The man you trust the most, your father, was jerking off to the sight of you taking that bottle. God, if it wasn't the hottest thing you've experienced.

"Finish your bottle, baby." Jack spoke between labored breaths. "Don't wanna waste it."

He sat down beside you like nothing ever happened. You hum in response, continuing to take your bottle - now wearing your father's cum as some perverted testament to the love between you two.

-