In which you've got textbook daddy issues and when your tool of a younger brother brings a sweet doe eyed girlfriend home for Thanksgiving and you end up offering her a ride home, you meet just the man to fix them.
Warning: smut, daddy kink, age gap...
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His authoritative tone, although enticing, sobered you up a bit, but you were already feeling a bit off after the phone call with your brother. You knew he'd had a few to drink, and you knew how he could get, but, this time... something just really stung about how he'd spoken to you. Maybe you'd just been away from home for longer this time, maybe you'd learned with the help of your therapist to better detach yourself from your family while away from them, mentally as well as physically. And now, the reality of who he was becoming felt like a slap across the face.
You followed Harry absentmindedly until you were looking around only to realize you were in a bedroom. You didn't even have time to process it before he pushed the door ajar behind you and spoke in a softer, hushed tone. You told yourself it was as to not wake up Emily.
"Are you all right?"
He'd asked you this how many times tonight? You were beginning to feel defensive over it, you usually never had anyone check in on you like that "Yeah" you crossed your arms over your chest "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... tired. Listen. About what my brother said... I'm sorry, he might've been right about, well... Maybe you were just being polite, and I-"
"Hey" he stepped closer, his brows furrowing "I'm really not the kind to invite strangers over for Thanksgiving dinner unless I want them there. Then you went on and on about imposing and I reassured you, so why are you second guessing it now just because your brother wanted to be unnecessarily mean to you?"
You opened your mouth to say something but no words came out. The silence in the room was deafening. Which reminded you "I know you said you weren't going to bunk us, but if this is what your guest room looks like I'm kinda mad I won't be sharing Emily's, I can only imagine how hers must be like. Did you decorate all by yourself? Those talented fingers at it again?" you were rambling out of nervousness, you knew.
Harry's brows only furrowed deeper but his grin grew wider at the same time "You're just something else, aren't you?" he shook his head amusedly "This is the master bedroom, I'll be taking the living room sofa. No fancy guest rooms I'm afraid. And yeah. The very same" he raised his fingers and wiggled them playfully, his rings catching the light coming from the only lamp he'd switched on when you'd entered the room.
You both chuckled hushedly but then you quickly retorted "Oh, no, no. See? This is the definition of imposing. There's no way I can take your room, Harry, come on. You can't be comfortable with a strange woman sleeping in your bed. I mean. Not that you don't bring women here. That is- Crap!" you stammered and could just die of embarrassment watching his amused expression. You sighed, covering your face with your palms "It's the bourbon"
"Nope, still not the bourbon" he said, and you could hear the amusement in his voice. He then gently pulled your hands away from your face and his hands lingered a second longer than necessary on yours before he retreated "You're still sober. I told you I wouldn't let you get hammered" he airquoted the phrasing you'd chosen earlier that evening. "But you are tired. So it's not up for debate. I'm taking the sofa. Unless you're not comfortable sleeping in my bed, that is. Which I'm now realizing I should've asked you about beforehand, or at least had Emily switch rooms with you."
