Daddy | h.s. |✔️

◈Thirteen◈

Not edited. (But really do I edit any of these?😂)

B a y.

Over the day she had realized how much she missed the insensitive Harry. As crazy as it sounds, that was the man she fell in love with. He was dominant and mean sometimes, but he loved her just the same.

Now, she felt like Harry didn't care. He lets her drag him all over the garden and around the house, he never would've let her do that before. He didn't care what she done. He wasn't focused on making her happy, he was focused on making her shut up. He felt like that was kind of the same thing in his mind.

They enter the living room and to be honest they're both tired, but Bay wouldn't give up. She was going to annoy him until he punished her and maybe he would understand just how much of him she's been missing.

"Let's go upstairs and lay down for a bit, yeah?" Bay suggests.

"No, it's getting late. I have to get some work done," he mumbles, looking at his watch on his forearm. This was perfect timing, Bay thought. She'd throw a fit and if that didn't work she'd go into his office and annoy him some more.

"No," she whines, tugging on his hand.

"Yes, Bay. We've had enough fun for today."

"I'm not asking for fun, I just want to relax with you a little," she begs. She looks up at him like a bratty child. "Please, Daddy?"

He sighs, as tempting as it is. He really does have to put in some sort of effort for the day. His job was important and he couldn't just abandon it to 'relax'. "Maybe later," he mumbles.

Just as he's about to walk away, she stomps her foot childishly. "I said I want you to come with me," she demands in a whiney tone.

He stops and turns to face her with a scowl on his face. "Stop being a brat," he challenges.

"I'm not a brat! I just want you to come with me," she replies, taking his hand.

"No, you are a brat. You're spoiled. You're so used to me saying yes and making you happy. I've went soft on you, I never make you mine and I never say no to you. I've ruined you. That's why you're so ungrateful and mean," he hisses.

And, yeah, that hit a little close to home. Her feelings were hurt, but she knew it was nothing but the truth. Usually, when she acted out it was because she wanted something. And usually, Harry gave it to her to keep her happy.

"I'm not ungrateful. I'm very grateful, I just want you to listen to me," she replies now quiet.

"Well, I want you to listen to me," he says wildly. "You never stop and think of how much you have, everything you have. You're probably the luckiest girl ever. Most girls your age aren't taken in and cared for by someone like me. They're on their own, you don't know how to appreciate what you have."

"I do!" She yells dramatically because now he was just hurting her. "I understood the second you started acting like this. I'm so grateful for what I have-- had, Harry. I just want us to be us again. I'm sorry for hurting you, okay? Is that what you want an apology? I've been trying to apologize with my actions and it's getting me absolutely no where. You're right I didn't realize what I had, not until I lost your affection. I thought you loved me, but you don't do this to the people you love."

"Don't do what? Ignore them? I'm upset, Bay! You were flirting with him right in front of me. You even snuck off with him, you should be glad I haven't killed him yet," he replies in a dark tone.

"I wasn't flirting with him! He's my friend. I miss him, okay? You never let me leave this place, I'm caged up all day while you're gone and all your stupid workers are too afraid to talk to me! I have no one. I have no one while you're away. He was different. He didn't care if it risked his job, because that's what friendship is," she says frustratedly.

Harry rolls his eyes, "Bay, he thought he'd get lucky with you while I was at work. He wasn't your frien--"

"Whatever! You don't even bloody know him. You're such a jerk," she turns quickly to run upstairs but Harry catches her arm, pulling her back to him.

"You don't get to call me names, do you understand me?" He asks in a very dark tone.

Her blood pumps harshly and her heart speeds up a bit. She's not sure if she should be pleased because maybe this is what she wanted or maybe she should be scared. "I-I'm sorry," she whispers, never breaking eye contact.

"That's what I thought," he hisses, releasing her arm so that she stumbles back a step or two.

She wants to cry and honestly hope he doesn't punish her for this because her feelings are hurt. He probably lashed out on purpose to hurt her the way she hurt him. It wasn't fair in her mind, but she didn't care anymore.

Harry was mean and dominant again, but this time he didn't have love to make up for that. She wouldn't let him see her cry. She runs upstairs into her room and shuts the door quietly. She climbs into her comfy bed, pulling the covers over her head. She wants to stay here forever and sleep. So that's what she did.

That was, until later that night when Harry opened her door so forcefully it almost woke her. She moves around, pulling the covers tighter around her body in her unconscious state. Harry storms over and rips the covers off of her body. She wakes, jumping slightly.

A hand falls on her chest, "Dad, you scared me."

"I'm making us a late night snack for later. Be in my room in thirty minutes already prepared for your punishment," he says darkly.

She nods slightly, checking the time. It was already midnight and Harry had to work tomorrow. She says nothing though, afraid he'll lash out once again.

When he leaves the room she sighs to herself, giving herself a tiny pep-talk. She didn't know who needed this punishment more, her or Harry?

•••

Yayyyyy so the next chapter will be so much more interesting. The punishment will be first thing and then I have a surprise for you guys! I'm so excited to write it yayyy! Plus go Checj out pillow talk. It's starting now and I'm excited. And eighteen is still at the beginning.

We finally hit 1k guys! I forgot to put that in my note because I was so excited for Pillow Talk but YES I knew my babies could do it. Ily all sm. Ugh you keep me young.

Stay out of trouble! Ilya. Vote and comment all that jazz.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY SWEET LITTLE BABY HAZZAH. MY SON ISNT 22 I PROMISE HES ONLY TURNING TWO MY TEARS ARE REAL. BUT LIKE LARRY IS GETTING OLDER AND IM CRYING BECAUSE I MISS YOUNG LARRY BUT I LOVE NEW LARRY TOO ITS JUST MY LARRENTS THEYRE GROWING UP ON ME OKAy I'm done I'm sorry. Ily guys again.