#dee.moot

in 0.2 seconds flat but he's a seasoned pro at convincing himself that he's totally fine <33 and that if anything the little bit of sweat on his forehead is there purely because he's worried about you leaving the house in something like that. not that you aren't more than capable of making your own decisions of course, but he wonders if your dad knows about this... ?

oh well. it's not really his place. (but... he wants it to be)

he wants to ask just what on earth you're thinking wearing something like that, and if you know how easy it is to see your nipples through that flimsy fabric.

but he's definitely not thinking about what they'd feel like in his mouth as he sucks them through the front of that little shirt, making a couple of wet spots dark enough to match your panties. or how the 'daddy's girl' would become unreadable as it gets pushed up over your tits when he lays you down in the backseat and makes you cry.

daddy's girl, huh? is that what you wanna be?

HNNNGGGGNGNFNFNFDJDJJD

and subsequently doing everything you can to try and get people to see it that way. laying it on extra thick and crafting scenarios for the sole purpose of fooling some innocent soul into thinking he’s your dad. but you have to be really clever about it because he says it doesn’t count if you manipulate the variables too much.

being at the department store (because it’s fresh in my brain from your other ask pls hold) talking to one of the workers like “i’ve been thinking about getting my dad one of these…” and walking away for a bit, bringing daichi over to look at the same set of items, and the employee going “i wish my daughter was thoughtful like yours!”

and when he’s fingering you in one of the dressing rooms moments later, he goes, “so did you tell that guy i was your dad? hm? are you that needy for cock?”

“no! i didn’t!” you whine around his other fingers in your mouth, and it’s a half-truth.

“you sure? well i don’t believe you.”

“i promise! pleaseplease let me cum—”

he pulls his hand from your cunt and shoves his knee between your thighs with a certain pressure. “how about you make yourself cum, sweetheart? since you’ve proven how much work you’re willing to put in.”

and she’s more than a little condescending when she smiles and says how nice it is that daichi still treats you like a daughter.

daichi’s barely touched you since you slept with him two weeks ago, barely given you any inclination that this thing is going to keep on happening. so you know this is only going to make is worse.

—which is why you’re not expecting it when daichi steers you back toward the parking garage after and fucks you right there in the back seat of his car.

OHHHHHHH the condescending ex-wife. delicious. (could she perhaps be implying that... your semi-familial relationship with daichi has been a greater underlying issue than anyone realized? and/or she always had a feeling you were secretly a little slut waiting to snatch him up? it's hard to tell just exactly what lies behind her fake smile.....)

you kind of wish the bitchy ex would show up more often though. because it feels really good to be folded in half in the backseat while daichi bruises your cervix with a kind of intensity you've never quite seen from him. he doesn't really say much—just sort of fucks you like he's trying to get something out of his system and straight into yours.

he feels deeply inclined to apologize a couple of days later, however, especially after catching a glimpse of one of the small bruises he left on your thigh; he doesn't know what came over him, and he shouldn't have been so reckless. it's not a good idea for this to keep happening—you don't deserve to deal with all the things he's still trying to settle with his ex-wife.

you drag daichi to an ice cream parlour (truly dragging because he’s already at his limit for Seeing You in a Bikini time). he thinks that things can’t get any worse when he’s hit with a flashbang of fucked up ideas after you start licking a wet trail of ice cream off of your wrist.

but it’s also unfortunately at that moment that the very sweet older woman working behind the counter comes by the table to ask, “do you and your daughter need anything else?”

do you and your daugh— AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

i just died. but i willed myself back to life so we could continue this adventure.

being mistaken like that is top tier kink material for me I LIVE FOR THAT NASTY SHIT

daichi's psyche is already on the verge of collapse from watching your tongue makes its way up your wrist like that, but his brain fully blue-screens after that poor woman says that. he's left sitting there, speechless, head running through the entire spectrum of human emotions (shame, fear, lust, disgust, pride—) because there's simply too much happening to him at once.

you're watching his expression a little too gleefully while waiting for him to answer, but the silence goes on a bit longer than would be considered polite. so you speak up for him to answer the lady's question:

"nope! everything is great... right, daddy?"

you should've just shot him point blank in the skull. it would've been a more merciful ending.

"uh... yeah. thanks," he says sheepishly, wishing he could evaporate into thin air.

when the woman finally walks away, he looks over at you, appalled. "'right, daddy?'"

"what? i was just being nice," you say, taking another devious lick of your ice cream. "you were being rude. and don't you think it was kinda cute she thought i was your daughter?" a faux innocent grin.

'cute' wasn't the word he would've chosen.

"yeah. cute."

this was the worst trip idea ever.

"you're making a mess," you scold while leaning over to run your tongue along his dripping ice cream cone.

fuck.

no, you're making a mess. of him.