A/N: trigger warning- mentions of violence!
You woke up with a gasp, your hand going to your neck by reflex. Your throat ached, your mouth was dry and your eyes stung as you blinked your nightmare away. You saw the sun creeping in through the drawn blinds and you couldn't believe that you'd actually slept. Especially since you'd slept for the majority of the previous day as well, but all the crying had probably worn you out.
And even after all that sleeping, you were absolutely exhausted. Drained. And most importantly, you'd been fighting the urge to go find Harry the whole night.
That's right. Instead of being sickened by what he'd told you, especially considering your own trauma regarding men exerting violence, you were absolutely heartbroken... for him. And you couldn't comprehend it, you couldn't figure out how you found it within yourself to pity him- after all, he was the one who nearly killed a man out of jealousy. You had a suspicion it had something to do with the little revelation you'd had in the midst of that whole fiasco the previous night.
You were in love with him.
You were in love with a man that had just admitted to you that he'd nearly beat to death the guy his ex wife cheated on him with.
And instead of focusing on what that meant to you, as a victim of domestic violence, all you could think of was how that incident had affected Harry. His daughter had been taken away from him, his ex wife making sure he got as little visiting hours as possible, and he probably would have gotten none had the guy he beat up (which ended up becoming Emily's step dad) wanted to. He'd gone into therapy and actually was thankful that this Julian guy allowed him to still see his kid. He'd never done anything like this prior to that, and ever since.
Not until he met you, that is.
Granted, he hadn't exactly beat up Collin, but God knows how things could've escalated. And it's not even the fact that he punched him. It was the way it had been so seemingly out of the blue, such an exaggerated reaction to what the poor guy had said. You'd suspected it had been out of jealousy and maybe the fact that Collin had mistook Harry for your father had had something to do with it as well, but still... You'd never seen someone react like that before.
No one, that is, except your father.
So how the hell were you sitting in bed now, crying for Harry instead of feeling sorry for yourself for having fallen for the kind of man you'd sworn you'd never be with?
You'd cried yourself to sleep asking yourself this, over and over. How did you end up in this situation?
Part of you was revolted that you hadn't called a cab on the spot and fled to the airport immediately. This should've been extremely triggering for you. And it was, but just now the way you'd always imagined it'd be.
What Harry had done was not ok, both with Emily's step dad and Collin, absolutely, you knew that. But, you also realized it was a reaction that was stemming from his own personal trauma and insecurities. Maybe, had you not gone into therapy yourself, you'd have been quicker to judge. But as it was, you knew that this was his way of coping with his internal turmoil. The way he reacted to very powerful triggers. And that, even after therapy, was very hard to control.
You had been struggling with it yourself. Your self destructive tendencies, the way you coped with your trauma, they were all so easy to give in to. The recreational drugs and the promiscuous sex were just a way to dull out your pain whenever it would get unbearable. It was a way to distract yourself from your self-loathing and harmful thoughts you were harboring, since those were even more dangerous. When you'd started taking sleeping pills and realized you'd been mixing them with alcohol you knew it was time to get help, and so, therapy had been the next step. Still, even after therapy- which you had to quit at one point since you couldn't afford it whilst trying to save up to pay your father back for the loan on the car, it still was a daily struggle.
You could never really silence the voice in your head repeating all the things your father had ingrained into your brain meticulously while growing up. The voice telling you you were worthless, insignificant, a nuisance, a mistake, a burden, unlovable, unimportant, stupid, ugly, and the list went on, and on, and on.
Until you'd met Harry. Only when you were with him could you silence that voice, only he could say things to you that felt so true, so honest, that they made you second-guess the "truths" you were repeating to yourself in your head daily, like a cursed mantra. Only he had ever made you feel like you were a real person, someone that mattered in the grand scheme of things, someone that could be seen. Harry had been the only person to ever make you feel seen, appreciated, respected even. Only him, nobody else. Even in that short time span, he'd surpassed all the friends you'd ever had, anyone that had ever treated you with a shred of kindness.
It was as if he'd grabbed your hand and yanked you out of the shadows, tossing you into the bright summery sunshine. The loving words he'd showered you in felt just the way the sunrays made your skin tingle on an especially warm day.
He did that for you, he saw all your broken pieces and kept attempting to glue them together better than they'd originally been arranged. But what he'd confessed had felt like a big wave that had come to ruin the meticulously built sandcastle by the shore in a blink of an eye.
He obviously was struggling with what had happened, it was eating at him, and he confided in you, told you the reason behind it. His jealousy, a feeling most people weren't strangers to, was obviously not the typical, harmless kind. It stemmed from insecurity, from his own personal trauma that resulted from his wife cheating on him. In the blink of an eye, his life had been turned on its axis, all those years ago. And he'd dealt with it poorly, in the heat of the moment.
Now, when he was finally opening up to being vulnerable with someone else, after 16 years, that same feeling of having what belonged to him stolen from under his nose had been reawakened, much like poking a hibernating bear, triggering that same reaction out of him.
You weren't comparing what the two of you had with his former marriage and everything that went with it, but you could see why what happened had reminded him of that, on a very primal level.
Yet, even though you could reason with it, your heart was broken over it nonetheless. It was the one thing you didn't think you could ever accept in a man- violence. The terror was so deeply imbedded in you, that any sort of violent action was extremely triggering to you. And what Harry had done was not just a harmless brawl, no, he'd had someone hospitalized, on the verge of death because of his jealousy and possessiveness.
How could you even cope with that? How could you ever unsee it? Could you ever turn a blind eye to it, considering your past?
You knew the answer was no, but at the same time, you now were painfully well aware of the intensity of your feelings for this man.
Checking your phone, you saw that it was only past 5am. You'd hoped that this past night would allow you to reach a conclusion, or at least have a bit more clarity over the situation. But if anything, you just felt more confused. Your heart was torn, and you couldn't even talk to him about it. You weren't ready to admit to the fact that you were in love with him, surely it was way too soon and he'd no doubt think you were just another typical girl that can't reign in her emotions. And on top of that, you really didn't want to add more to this already complicated situation.
You'd already blurted out that your father used to beat you. You could've saved that for another time. You regretted telling him for so many reasons. But it was too late now.
And so, the only urge you still had was to flee the scene. You knew you had to put more space between the two of you, so that you could gain more clarity, and you needed more time to digest this, more time to figure out how to handle all of these emotions that were extremely surprising to you. And, yes, that was how you coped with intense situations, you removed yourself from them and distanced yourself as much as possible. It was selfish, but it was the only way that had ever worked for you.
And if you were going to leave, you had to get a move on it. You hoped Harry was asleep, so that you could slip out of the house, of course, sending him a text later explaining why you had to leave like that.
You knew that if he was awake or that if you woke him up, he'd never let you leave without having a discussion, and the last thing you needed was a discussion.
You could barely make sense of your own emotions, let alone talk about them out loud.
All you'd brought with you on this trip had been your laptop and the clothes on your back, since you'd left for California from Harry's house to which you'd driven on a whim those few days ago. The plan had been to go shopping upon arriving there, but of course, you'd never gotten to it.
Your laptop was currently packed into one of his bags, so you were going to have to leave it there and just work from the office until you could recuperate it from him later on. Aside from that, your boots, purse and coat were at the entrance, all you had to do was grab them on your way out and you were good to go.
You swiped under your eyes and tried to comb your fingers through your hair, which was pointless since the whole idea was to sneak out of the house without him noticing, but still, you were about to head to the airport and spend god knows how many hours there waiting to board the first plane back home. You didn't even check online, you didn't want to allow yourself the chance to second guess your decision.
You exited the bedroom as quietly as possible. You couldn't remember whether the stairs squeaked, but you had a suspicion they didn't considering the lavishness of the whole house.
You peeked over the staircase railing and you stopped dead in your tracks. Harry was fast asleep on the couch, in what looked like a very uncomfortable position after having probably tossed and turned for ages. He normally was a belly sleeper, you knew from when you'd seen him asleep on his own couch back when he'd fallen asleep watching Home Alone with Emily, and also judging by how he always tended to spoon you slightly pinning you into the mattress whenever you slept together. The fact that he was on his back, one hand splayed over top of his head, the other wedged awkwardly between his side and the back of the sofa, you just knew he'd wake up with a stiff neck, but also, you couldn't help but notice how utterly exhausted he looked, even in his sleep. His frown lines were emphasized, his normally relaxed face whilst asleep now contorted into a scowl.
And then, before you could catch yourself, your eyes swept over his figure and landed on his morning erection and you shifted uncomfortably moving your weight from one leg to the other. You allowed yourself to ogle him, wondering if maybe by leaving you'd never get to do it again.
The very thought was viscerally painful.
You descended the stairs and instead of heading straight for the front door you found your feet doing a beeline to the sofa. You told yourself you'd just look at him some more, after all, these moments were so rare, he was always up before you, you never really get to see him like this.
You looked at this flawed man before you- yes, he looked devastated but also... devastatingly hot. The vulnerability somehow enhanced everything you already loved about him. You felt the need to comfort him so deep in your bones, the need to have his body relax and unwind and to feel his painfully hard cock stretch you in return in a way you couldn't explain logically. It was something primal, the hold he had on you.
You approached him and kneeled next to the sofa, your upper body hovering over his. You were close enough to feel his breath on your face. You gently reached to card your fingers through his curls, a whisper of a touch but that was enough to relax his facial features. Your heart, or whatever was left of it, broke into a million tiny pieces seeing how comforting your touch was to him, even in his sleep. You retreated your hand, knowing if you kept at it you'd never have the strength to leave. As soon as you removed your fingers from his hair though, he let out the faintest whimper, and his brows furrowed back into a frown, his breathing picking up and his lips parting slightly.
Your chest constricted, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. Your body was aching to tend to his, to make it better.
In the midst of your mind going a hundred miles an hour trying to figure out your next move- whether you were you staying or fleeing- Harry's eyes blinked awake and his irises focused on you, effectively making your breath hitch. You always got so lost inside his eyes, but especially now, since they were bloodshot and the red brought out the green in them even more. The arm he had splayed above his head lowered carefully, and he used it to prop himself on his elbow slightly, bringing him even closer to your face, and you were just frozen into place, looking at him as if for the first time.
You'd never seen him like this. Harry was a very confident man, but not overly so, not too much where it gets repulsive; in fact, you oftentimes thought he was toning it down to not come across as an arrogant asshole. He truly was the epitome of "daddy". And if "big dick energy" had an urban dictionary image to the expression, it should've been his photo, for sure. Right then, though, there was not one ounce of that confidence in sight. None. He looked utterly broken, in a way you hadn't even realized grown-up men could be.
It made you weak in the knees. You'd done this to him. And you both loved and hated it, for all the wrong and right reasons.
He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could utter a word you lunged at him, threading your fingers back through his hair. He allowed himself just a moment, taken aback, but he quickly recovered, bringing his arms around you, pulling you fully onto him and as you hurriedly settled atop of him his erection poked the fold of your leg. You moaned, adjusting yourself so that he was pressing directly onto your pubic bone, not quite where you wanted him but enough to have you desperate to get as close as humanly possible.
"Baby... baby, wait" he whispered in his deep morning voice as he gathered your hair to the side to look at you properly but you kept kissing him, silencing him. You weren't about to let him say something and ruin this. No, this wasn't something you were ready to discuss right now.
"Please fuck me. Whatever you want to say, tell it to me using your body instead, yeah?" you kissed him, tugging at his lower lip and he instinctively thrust his hips upwards making you moan and release it from in between your teeth "I need you to. I need you. Need my daddy..."
"Fuck, Y/N..." he kissed you with all he was worth, flipping you so that you were the one pinned to the sofa underneath him and he was wasting no time in removing your jeans, not even bothering with your top. He pushed down his own sweats he must've taken out from the luggage alongside with his briefs and fingered your panties to the side, exposing your embarrassingly wet cunt to him. He hissed at the sight of you and grabbed himself, stroking harshly, his pupils blown wide as he stared at your pussy hungrily before he brought his tip between your folds, coating himself in your arousal.
"Fuck!" you whimpered needily "Please don't tease. I need you so bad it hurts"
His eyes went to you then and he aligned himself to your entrance before bracing himself on his elbows on either side of you and pushing in in one swift motion, with enough force to make you slide up the sofa.
"Yes! Yes, please! Please, make it go away, daddy. Make me forget. You always make me forget You always make it better..."
Harry's face was just a breath away from yours, your lips close enough to touch yet he kept his eyes trained on you, seemingly searching for something in them "My sweet girl. There isn't a single thing I wouldn't do for you. If this is what you need from me, have all of me. I'm yours"
You thew your head back further into the sofa as he fucked into you at a seemingly inhuman pace. You couldn't even keep your eyes open, the force of each thrust of his hips making your eyes roll to the back of your head deliciously. You couldn't even catch your breath. He bunched your top to your shoulders and tugged your bra harshly, releasing your breasts from the cups and latching his mouth onto one of them greedily. He adjusted his thrust so that he wasn't moving his upper body as he feasted on you, sneaking an arm around your torso, arching your back and pulling you closer still. The change in angle made you cry out "Yeah, did daddy find your spot, baby? Am I treating my lovely girl right?"
You mewled, pressing yourself onto his cock meeting him thrust for thrust, he was right where you wanted him. It felt so good, finally, to be void of any thoughts other than that of the two of you and how perfect for each other you were. Nobody had ever touched you the way he did, no one could set your body on fire like he could. He was the most addictive drug, the high he gave you like nothing else you'd ever experienced.
He sucked on your nipple but somehow you felt it all in your clit, he didn't even need to touch it, you were already so wound up and ready to burst.
"You can come, baby girl. I'm not going anywhere. Gonna stay inside you for as long as you want, and you can have me again and again, hm? Daddy's gonna take care of you always"
You cried out when he latched onto the other breast and his words pushed you over the edge. You came so hard that you barely registered that he'd followed closely after, and amidst your shaking and heavy panting you began crying.
"Shhh, baby, it's alright. I'm here" he cooed and made to pull out while he was still recovering but you threw your hands around his neck pulling him flush against you and burying your face in the crook of his neck, sobbing violently. You couldn't help it. You'd cried quietly the whole night and now your body had reached its breaking point, much like a tsunami wave that couldn't be held back.
He hugged you to him, careful not to rest his body weight on you, but the feel of him pressed against you so close was so comforting that you never wanted to let go. "I can't let you go" you murmured between your sobs, and you didn't even know whether he could make out what you were saying, your voice was so strained and it was so difficult getting words out while trying to catch your breath.
I love you. God, I love you. It was at the tip of your tongue, but you couldn't tell him. He hugged you to him even tighter at that, and when he pulled away slightly you could see his eyes glazed over. You were still whimpering between sporadic sobs, and he brought a hand to caress the side of your face tenderly, and you could tell he was fighting back his own tears. Eventually he murmured "Good. Because that's the one thing I can't do for you. I can't let you go either... I can't" he swallowed the lump in his neck, his voice breaking towards the end and it brought fresh tears to your own eyes. "I know you were gonna leave. You were gonna leave and you were never going to want to see me again"
"No, Harry, I—"
"Yes, you were. You have your socks on. You never wear them inside the house" his voice was strained with emotion and you finally felt one of his tears fall over your collarbone, your own sliding off to the sides and over your temples. He kept caressing your face, swiping them away before they reached your hair
"I was... I needed more time. To think"
"What changed your mind?" he whispered, and you could tell it was difficult for him to word that question, knowing how risky it was.
"I don't... I don't think I was ever going to go through with it. I needed to check up on you, fought against it all night long. I think I just told myself I was leaving so that I could allow myself to come downstairs and see if you were alright, honestly"
He searched your eyes for a long moment before he blinked another tear away and you noticed a slow smile take over his features. You smiled back, and inhaled shakily what seemed to be the first breath of oxygen in what had felt like an eternity.
You kept smiling at eachother through wet lashes, letting out occasional giggles between shaky breaths and he lowered himself enough to brush his nose against yours making you grin ear to ear, your heart bursting with love for him. He then raised an eyebrow and before you could mirror his expression confusedly, you felt him move inside you, and your eyes widened in sync with his pupils. He then nosed your head to the side, kissing along your jawline and setting a slow, delicious pace and you sighed contentedly. He sucked your earlobe into his wet mouth before whispering in your ear "Don't let go. Promise me"
"I promise". And you meant it with all your heart, didn't even miss a beat. It was far from perfect, but it was what you both needed- you hadn't been more sure of anything in your life.
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A/N: a lot of internal turmoil for this chapter, but i hope the ending makes up for it ❤️also, this is probably the most poorly proof-read chapter i've ever uploaded, i really struggled to get it up in time.
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