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...
He starts by having his own breakfast in bed, then he brings her (actual) breakfast in bed, on a proper tray and everything, even adorned with a singular dwarf sunflower.
Insists on spoon feeding her and also that she doesn't cover her breasts while she eats so that he can lick trails of strawberry jam off her nipples.
Then, needles to say she's all sticky and they have to take a shower together so he can make sure she's squeaky clean, but only after he fucks her silly and lets her have her own sticky desert at the end.
They get back in bed and harry rests his head in her lap (he still insists she doesn't cover her breasts with the bedsheet) reading poetry out loud to her from his favorite author, he'd underlined his copy all week in preparation.
She just cards her fingers through his curls and looks at him dreamily, enjoying the slow cadence of his deep voice and they fall asleep in the afternoon like that, him mouthing at her breasts to his heart's content.
He wakes her up just as the February sun is setting early, he's got more in store for her.
He wants to edge her while she reads him back some of the poems he picks, she has to make sure she doesn't stutter or he stops. He doesn't let her come for nearly an hour, lapping lazily at her pussy, his head resting in the crease of her thigh, fingers pumping slowly inside her.
And after all that, he fucks her- hard, and she soaks the bedding.
He runs a bath for both of them, even lights up candles all around the tub, uses her special bath bombs and props up a chair with a rom-com to watch on his laptop as she sits between his legs and he massages shampoo into her scalp until she groans in bliss.
He changes the bed linen and gets dinner ready while she blow dries her hair. He makes her favorite, pasta carbonara from scratch and couples it with their preferred wine but pouts at her for putting on clothes, although he's also wearing sweat pants, as she points out, so he lets it slide.
Since they're (partially) dressed she asks for a late night car ride and Harry is pleased to indulge her. They hold hands over the console while soppy Valentine's Day music is playing over the radio, and she end up nodding off, her temple against the window.
He drives back home, gently takes her back into bed and she doesn't wake up until he tries to wiggle her out of her jeans so that she's comfy.
She's in his arms, ready to fall back asleep but there's just one thing missing, and he is more than happy when she asks tot cockwarm him, but they end up making slow, unhurried love instead.
