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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You checked your phone, it was now fully charged. It was also now 3:17 in the morning and you were pretty sure you hadn't slept a wink, because, fuck! How were you supposed to just go to sleep after finding out that Harry had not only kept your panties, but he'd kept them in his nightstand. IN HIS FUCKING NIGHTSTAND!
You huffed to yourself, dramatically. How were you ever going to move on from this? What did it even mean that he'd kept them? Obviously, it wasn't innocent of him at all, but that also didn't necessarily mean anything.
Realistically, you knew he was just a red blooded man at the end of the day, and what guy would've just thrown them away? But then you remembered what he'd told you back on the porch that first night, when you asked him how old he thought you were and he said he was hoping you just looked way younger than you actually were.
You'd thought about that a lot, ever since. That was the one thing that had kept you wondering, had you really just imagined it, whatever it was between you? Because when he pulled away later that very night you'd felt as if it'd all just been in your head.
But this, this changed everything.
Up until the moment when you'd opened that drawer, your heart had ached over how Harry had managed to turn that whole day around for you. It had been arguably the worst day you'd had in a long while, but then he appeared out of nowhere by your side at the airport, just when tears had started rolling down your face and it was as if the clouds had parted. Yeah, then you found out that your brother had pulled that stunt on you and you lost it, but still, Harry had been there. Like, genuinely been there. The way he stepped up and just... took you under his wing? Nobody had ever done that for you. Nobody.
And looking back, you wondered whether he'd really asked you to watch Home Alone with him for his own sake. Something told you that he knew you were just itching to get under his blankets and cry your heart out. But he saw right through you, and deliberately made you watch that movie with him so that you'd end up asleep before you could get to it. And that hot cocoa with marshmallows, the blanket, the way he'd turned the volume down?
You glanced at those panties, you'd placed them on top of the nightstand next to your phone and kept staring at them. Was that why he did all that? Just to get in your pants? Could that have been his hidden agenda behind all this?
You honestly didn't know Harry well enough to decipher this. But if anything, you really didn't think that he'd go to all this trouble just to get you in bed. Which you were, incidentally- in his bed, that is- but that was beside the point.
You sunk lower down his sheets and placed one of his pillows over your face. God, you loved this and hated it at the same time. You just wished you'd have a way of finding out whether the panties really meant something or if it was just a random guy thing he did in keeping them. And even if he was into you, that didn't necessarily mean he'd ever act on it. Hell, you were into him and hadn't acted on it, because, well... You'd always been into older men, but you'd never explored this kink. It was just a concept you enjoyed, a secret fantasy you'd never really pursue. Aside from that, your brother was dating his daughter, and that was just way too complicated right there. Imagine what Emily would ever think of her father sleeping with someone so close to her own age. You were 7 years older than her but that still was pretty close. You tried imagining your dad dating someone close to your age and it made your skin crawl.
