Harry Styles Daddy Novels & Stories

He was the best. “Let's go to Daddy, right?” Isabella asked, looking at his green eyes. They were priceless. “Yes, mommy.”

“You’re so beautiful, Rynna.” “You are pretty handsome too, Mr. Skip. I like your hair because guys usually don’t keep their hair long.” She reached out to touch his hair. “I like Harry’s, but he cut his hair short though.” “Who is Harry, sweetheart?” I could feel the curiosity in Skip’s voice. “Harry Styles from 1D.” “Huh! Well, Rynna. Mr. Skip’s hair is quite better than Harry’s, yeah?” Skip used his thick Londoner accent, making Rynna giggled more.

Putting on an oversized tee with a Harry Potter’s quote on it and a pair of straight jeans, I checked myself on the mirror to at least make myself decent. My dad, unlike my mom, never had a problem with my sense of fashion, heck, he turned all angry once when I was a kid for using extra short short pants. Never again. Even the thought of it made me shudder. What I was thinking as a kid will never fail to amaze me.

He leaned forward and grabbed onto her breasts. "Next time you're upset with daddy, come straight to me so I can fuck the attitude out of your pussy. Let's skip you pissing me off by offering my cunt to someone else. It makes daddy fucking insane, baby girl," Harry taunted her through gritted teeth, crushing her tits in his hands as he slammed the weight of his body into hers. Nothing but his own satisfaction and punishing her cunt flooded his mind. "My fucking perfect pussy. How dare you even think about giving it to someone else?"

Besides all I had today was the business meeting. "Mr Jax" "Your da..... Mr Storms wants to speak to you" my secretary said. Why didn't he complete his initial statement? By the looks of it he wasn't still used to calling Leo storms my dad. I guess it's hard for people to wake up one morning and hear that a popular billionaire has a son and then start addressing him as the son. I received the phone from my secretary and placed it over my ears. "Jax How are you doing?" My dad's deep relaxed voice met the walls of my eardrums.

Grainne said excitedly, "Harry, who do you think this is?" Harry glanced at Carwyn, disgusted, and replied, "Dad." Originally, when his father returned, Harry was overjoyed. But then he overheard his mother talking to the housekeeper, you know The name of the other father is just a fake. But for some reason, she couldn't expose him for the time being. So he had to collaborate with his mother. But since knowing the other's father's name is fake, Harry is no longer close to him, and rarely calls him father. Now, Harry thought Carwyn was still the fake dad. Grainne said, half laughing and crying, "Harry, do you hate me?"

Without another thought, Hilary popped it into her mouth and followed it with a swig from her water bottle. "I hope it works, I'm always so sore after yoga." Greg smiled and petted her hair. "I hope so too, baby." Patrick scoffed from behind them. "I can't believe you're still calling him daddy, Hil, you're eighteen years old." Hilary frowned. Gregs hand, still on her soft hair, pulled her closer. "Your sister can call me daddy as long as she likes." He said sternly. Patrick just rolled his eyes and returned his gaze to the TV.

Would he really help her unpack? “See? Daddy is very useful,” Jack said.

I hadn't anticipated seeing him so soon. It was Jake. He sauntered in with an air of confidence, his presence filling the room effortlessly. At six feet tall, his broad shoulders exuded strength, and his piercing blue eyes held a hint of mischief. His sleek, dark hair was tousled just enough to give him that effortlessly sexy look. With a chiseled jawline and a smile that could melt hearts, Jake was the epitome of smoking hot. Any girl would want him inside them. Upon approaching my father, I couldn't help but admire his confident stride and the way his eyes sparkled with warmth. Handing over some sort of document to Dad, he then turned towards me, and my heart skipped a beat at the sight of

My mother said, "Harry has always been a considerate child. He has been taking very good care of us by doing the laundry, cooking, and serving us drinks, and he's closer to us than our own son." Our relatives turned to look at me while I gripped my fork and stayed silent. My father glanced at me, and his tone turned grim. "Harry is nothing like someone we know who never shows up throughout the year, and if he did, all he talks about is money and never shows us any concern. He refuses to resign and come home to take care of us, and he doesn't want to get married, either. "He had his own life now, and doesn't care if his parents live or die."