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honey baby (SPOILED!)

Ran Haitani x f!reader | Rin Haitani x f!reader

Genre: smut & angstNotes: christening my new blog with a new series! I got inspired while listening to Kali Uchis’ TO FEEL ALIVE EP. The series is set in the 80s but the era isn’t really a huge part of the story. And it’s also set in Italy! There will be some dark content but all warnings will be added accordingly. Happy reading!Warnings: cheating, oral sex, possessiveness, masturbation.Words: 11.7k

Another gift from your daddy.

You’ve been getting a lot of those lately. You’ve been working under Mitsuya since you moved to The Amalfi Coast three years ago. But who paid for your travel costs and air fare? Papà. Who continues to subsidise your living expenses? Papà does. Suya often teases you, calls you spoiled. You are. Always have been, and you think you always will be.

Papà shouldn’t mind.

What use is being rich if he can’t give his baby girl anything she wants?

Papà wouldn’t mind.

What else would drive him to work so hard but providing for his favourite daughter?

Papà doesn’t mind.

His favourite daughter is his only daughter, after all.

He was willing, albeit a little hesitant, to allow his pride and joy to fly across the globe and set up a new life for herself overseas. You have daily phone calls with him. More often than not, the conversation is nothing of importance. Simply asking and telling how your days are. He visits, sometimes. One of the reasons he was prepared to allow you to move to Italy was that he had a valid reason to visit. He’s able to spend some time with his treasure and tend to one of his many businesses while he’s in the country. It makes him feel powerful. To be in the presence of men under his employ and offer a more hands on approach.

Your papà writes letters, though those are more cryptic. He relies on you from time to time to keep him informed on his businesses while he doesn’t have a physical presence in Italy.

“Diamond earrings, tch. You are spoilt.” Mitsuya smirks. “Spin for me, baby. Don’t be shy.” he instructs his client standing on a pedestal before him. He isn’t sure why he hired you considering you don’t do much actual work. But at least you’re good company and a good model for his clothes.

Your papà loves Mitsuya. He checks in with him whenever comes to Italy. He’d quite like it if you married a man like Mitsuya. No, not like him. Him. Just him. But whenever your father brings it up you can both barely conceal your amusement. You’re friends. Just friends.

“Aren’t they to die for?” you muse, sighing dreamily as you admire yourself and the twinkling jewels in the mirror in front of you.

You’re sitting crossed legged on a stool by the cash register, a pen in one hand and your chin resting in the other. The sound of your pen scribbling on the alabaster sheet of paper before you is positively deafening. Mitsuya is trying to keep his composure in front of his client; but she’s smiling as she notes the growing annoyance on your boss’ face. There is a clothes pin between his teeth that he’s clenching for more reasons than one. Resting on the balls of his feet as he works on the pure white wedding dress in front of him.

“Is that your papà you’re writing to?” he asks begrudgingly. You shake your head, not looking at him as you smile down at your whimsical writing, remembering to dot the I’s in your letter with hearts instead. He loves that.

“Careful, bella. People will talk if you keep secrets about men. They’ll think you’re sleeping with un mafioso.” the woman getting her wedding dress adjusted tells you in whispers. It piques your interest as well as the attention of Mitsuya, who scoffs a little before resuming his work.

“No way, signorina, her papà would have her taken back to the states if that were true. And… just, look at her. She’s a pain in my ass but she’s a good girl. Too good to get mixed up with a mafia man.” he explains with purpose, a small laugh punctuating the final few words of his sentence.

You look up from your letter, plump lips pulling into a rosy, red smile as an expression of truth. It’s enough for Mitsuya and the bride-to-be to leave you to your own devices. Finishing off the final words of your letter before kissing a crimson mark into the paper. You spray it with your favourite perfume before sealing it away like a it’s government secrets into a secure envelope. And you’re just such a romantic. You tie it all together with some string and secure a loose, dainty flower from the floral display sitting atop the checkout counter to it all. You write amore mio in the bottom right corner in small and gentle letters that you hope he’ll be able to read.

“Scusi, mi scusi, Mitsuya—”

“Si?”

“Can I go for a break, per favore?” you question. He shakes his head before instantly grinning as his eyes find yours.

“Whenever you come into work, your whole shift is a break!” he reminds you. It makes your cheeks warm and an evident bashfulness arises from within and paints your whole exterior. “Go, go away. Only if you buy oranges for me. I’m craving citrus.”

“Si! Thank you, Suya.” you beam at him, picking up two wicker baskets from beneath the counter and walking by him and the client before exiting into the sweltering sun.

You take your time, as you often do, walking slowly as to let the sunshine melt into your supple skin. It always makes you feel like you’re going to live forever, living this life. Taking it easy on the Italian Coast and doing as you please.

It suits you just fine.

There are familiar faces on your journey to the market; faces that can’t help but light up as they notice yours. Exchanges of ‘Ciao’ and ‘Ciao bella’ are swapped between you and each person you can’t help but greet upon seeing them. There’s no mistaking it, not from anyone.

You’re in love.

Like your father, everyone expects you and Mitsuya to be a perfect match. Though it couldn’t be further from the truth. Admittedly, when you had met Mitsuya on arrival to Italy, there was no denying an attraction between the two of you. You slept together, once… twice… five times, deciding you get along better as friends and more than happy to keep it that way. Your father would be broken to discover you aren’t as innocent as he believes you to be, but he doesn’t need to know. He’s halfway across the world, so whatever you get up to is more or less going to be taken to the grave with you.

“Ciao!” you greet the fruit grocer as you look carefully around the market. He smiles when he notices you. It isn’t lost on you that he has a crush on you, he has from the minute he set his sights on you, but your heart belongs to another.

“C-Ciao, bella. Can- um, can I help you with—?”

“Suya wants his citrus fix, Hakkai. Would you be able to fill this basket with oranges for me, please?” you politely ask, a soothing sounding tone emanating from your lips. He nods, gratefully. You’re so kind to him. Not because you want to lead him on, you’re just a kind, sweet soul. And Hakkai, bless him, he’s so shy. No matter how lovely you are to him, he doesn’t seem able to acquire any newfound confidence to talk to you. If anything, you think it might have made him worse.

“Yeah, o-of course. And, the, uh— o-other basket?” he manages to stumble out his sentence as he looks down at the wicker currently housing your love letter. You pick it up, holding the beautifully scented correspondence betwixt dainty little fingers. It’s brought closer to your chest, your heart. You smile shyly as you hope he doesn’t interrogate you over it.

“It’s a gift. So, I’ll let you fill it and make it look nice for me.” you tell him. He nods, stepping out from behind the counter with Mitsuya’s basket first.

He doesn’t normally do this. Fill the baskets of customers for them. But you didn’t know that when you first visited him for a basket of peaches all of those years ago. And, really, how could he say no to a pretty little thing like you?

Neither of you speak as he works, so you merely observe. You wish he had even a modicum of social skill. Mitsuya claims he’s real talkative when they spend time together, but how can that be true? Trying to converse with Hakkai is like trying to pull teeth from the gaping maw of a great white. Watching him do something so regular, so normal and mundane, is making you feel somewhat like a perverse voyeur.

You’re saved, thankfully, when an elderly woman who you’re familiar with greets you. She takes a seat on a nearby bench, and you feel inclined to join her. You talk for a little while as you keep allowing your vision to alternate between her and Hakkai.

“Are those diamonds in your ears, bella?” she queries, reaching her hand up to feel and caress your earlobes. You don’t mind, though. The apples in your cheeks swelling tenfold with pride as you consider all of the compliments you’ve received on them today.

“Si,” you grin, tucking your hair behind your ears for her to study them both properly. They’re glittering even more in the sunlight. Enough to blind anyone who looked directly at them if they weren’t careful.

“A gift from that wonderful papà of yours?” she wonders. Your lips pout but quickly form a smile, eyes twinkling with mischief as you hold her gaze and consider your answer.

“From my daddy,” you tell her. She clutches her heart and exhales yearningly at your response. Her eyebrows become a slight more angular as she uses her free hand to take yours.

“He is a good man, that papà of yours. If only I were thirty years younger.” she tells you, it makes you giggle. Your papà is a handsome man, and happily married to your mother. You don’t blame the elderly woman for having a crush. He’s ridiculously charming and well-to-do. He dresses smart and oozes confidence, earning the respect of any and all he comes into contact with. “Your grocery boy is waiting,” she points. Your head swivels to face him and he awkwardly waves when you notice him standing beside two baskets filled to the brim with fruit.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I need to pay for those. It was nice catching up with you.” you smile, waving goodbye as you walk over to Hakkai. “How much do I owe you?” you ask him.

“I-It’s fine. I’ll let Mitsuya know next time I see him…” he tells you, rubbing the back of his neck stiffly, unable to keep eye contact with you more than a few seconds. You ask him if he’s sure, and he insists. “Yeah, uh, he can take it out of your pay cheque or something, right? It’s okay, really. What’s a few Lira, anyway?”

You walk around the stall to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. It’s walking a fine line between platonic and romantic, easily leaving room for the affection to be misconstrued by the poor boy. To you, it was nothing but an act of gratitude. You smile at him, waving a delicate goodbye as you continue your expedition, with no idea you were being watched the whole time.

It’s impossible to keep a low profile in such a tight-knit community. Though in this area of town it would be difficult to explain to anyone why you’re on this particular doorstep. Your heart beats quicker and quicker as you stand and wait. A young couple noticing you and gasping. They call to you, ‘Bella! It isn’t safe, here, come away from there and come with us!” with a prominent begging tone behind the panicked words.

You smile, easily, shaking away their offer with an almost flapping hand gesture. It’s all you can do to assure them that you’re fine, as well as speaking the words. And, of course, they’re too terrified to argue your naivety and risk sticking around a second longer.

The door swings open aggressively, with such a ferocious violence to make your dress billow around you as it follows the bracing breeze created from the wooden entrance.

“Amore mio, I’ve told you time and time again not to come here. Haven’t I?” and there he is. The objection or your affection. The recipient of your fruit basket and the romantically written letter you wrote all for him.

“I know, ‘m sorry. I wanted to see you, Ran! Wanted to say thank—”

“Come in before anyone sees you, come.” he demands, ushering you inside. Just as he’s about to close the door behind you both, a large palm flattens against it and pushes it open wider. “Rindou.” your lover responds to the brazen sound of his brother’s heavy hand connecting with the splintering wood. He comes inside as well, a usual intense glare on the younger sibling’s face as he walks by you.

Ran looks at you from the corner of his eyes, intending to focus more on his less than savoury roommates whilst in your presence. He looks at you properly, however, when you subtly clear your throat. He watches you raise the wicker basket you got for him with the love letter on top. He points to a console table for you to set it down on, and you look between him and the tabletop before sighing gently.

“Actually, Ran, they’re um—”

“Don’t tell us you brought two baskets of fruit and you’re hoarding them both for Haitani?” Sanzu questions you. Your gaze drops to the ground, he isn’t the leader, but somehow Sanzu has managed to solidify himself as the scariest member of the group.

“Leave her alone, Bastardo. My sweet bambina didn’t do anything wrong.” Ran interjects, pulling your body into his side, towering above you as his hand rubs roughly up and down your arm.

“Tch,” Rindou scoffs, leaning against a wall and garnering the attention of yourself and the other three men in the room. “Your little signorina put her lips on the grocer.” he announces, making you realise he had been hot on your trail likely since you left Mitsuya’s boutique.

“Scusi? Are you fucking kidding me?” Ran’s voice booms throughout the room, prompting Rindou and Sanzu to smirk at each other while Takeomi opts to retreat to the balcony for a cigarette instead. “You’re fucking the market grocery boy, is that a joke?”

“N-No! Not at all. Rindou, you’re making it sound awful. I was saying thank you, s’all. He picked all of the fruit for me and told me I could pay later!” you defend yourself to each man in the room despite having no reason to. You didn’t do anything wrong. You carry yourself with confidence over to the coffee table in front of Sanzu, placing the fruit basket and removing your letter to Ran from the top. “Help yourselves. This basket is for my boss.” you inform them as you walk back to Ran. He’s visibly irritated and his compassionate embrace has become rigid and uninterested.

Rindou swaggers from the hallway to the couch and rifles through the fruit basket. He picks up a juicy looking red apple, throwing it in the air once and catching it quickly as he brings it to his lips. Teeth emerge and a satisfying crunch pierces the skin, apple juice drooling ever so slightly down his chin.

“That basket was for you… and so is this,” you speak gently to Ran as you hold your letter out to him. You want so badly for him to take it, but he does nought but stare. “Can we go to your room?” you wonder, meekly, hoping he’ll soften as he normally does when you make yourself sound a might smaller.

“I told you not to come here. I’ve told you, so many times.” he replies. You gulp, carefully, nodding at your wrongdoing and outright defiance. His brother and Sanzu are looking over as they continue to eat the fruit you brought. Rindou has even put his glasses on. They smirk each time you look over, their presence is making every word you want to say evaporate from your tongue.

“Please?” you request, looking at him with pleading eyes. He nods, casually, lacing his fingers with yours after taking your love letter in his free hand.

You’re guided up the stairs and into his bedroom. The creamy curtains waving loosely from the outdoor breeze coming into the elder Haitani’s sanctuary. The sun is pouring through the open balcony door and kissing each and every object in his room with a grazing warmth. The Amalfi Coast air often consists of a lemon and jasmine flowers laced with the smell of the salty sea. Ran’s room was no different with only the addition of his natural scent intertwined with the hickory and sandalwood cologne he’s so fond of and his signature cigars.

He loosens his tie and kicks off his shoes, not even bothering to deign you worthy of his gaze just yet. Your heart tears in two when you watch him toss your carefully crafted letter onto the bed like it’s nothing. He lights a cigar with a silver lighter kept in the inner breast pocket of his blazer, walking out onto the balcony to smoke. You can only hope the fresh air and tepid breeze will offer him some perspective and clarity on what has transpired.

“Look,” you smile, slowly approaching and yet again tucking your hair behind your ears to flaunt your diamonds. “They’re beautiful. That’s why I came, daddy. Wanted to say thank you for my new earrings.” you tell him, truthfully. He smiles lazily, flicking some ash over the railing before taking another drag.

“You’re beautiful, baby. My pretty girl, they suit you.” he replies. You’re holding his hand again now, he recognises you’ll want his full attention and quickly stubs out his cigar, hoping to salvage it later. You pull him anxiously back into his room and to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. Your body rotates so that you can better face him. His legs spread a little as he rests on his elbows on the plush mattress beneath you both. “Well?”

“Well? Well… what, daddy?” you question. He obnoxiously sucks his teeth and shakes his head so quickly and minimally you would have missed it had you blinked. “I don’t understand—”

“Course you don’t. Pretty little head’s just filled with daddy, si? How good to you I am and how much you love me.” he declares. You nod, agreeing, despite it not being the whole truth. He likes to dumb you down, but you know it isn’t true. You’re more agreeable and mean more to him when he sees you as a little clueless and with no purpose in life outside of him. You don’t mind, though. You love him, after all. “I buy diamonds for my love, and all I get is a thank you? I think you can do better for me, baby,” he insists, his fingers reach up to tuck a fallen loose strand back behind your ear and lets his fingers trail and trace your jawline. His hand settles as his finger and thumb pinch the soft flesh of your chin and force you gently to better face him.

“Of course not, daddy. The fruit was s’posed to be all yours. And I wrote you… this,” you explain as your fingertips pad around on the bed searching for the letter you worked so hard on. You smile when you feel it, picking it up and practically shoving it in his face. “Please read it, daddy. You’ll like it, I’m sure!” you encourage him. He takes it from your hand again and inspects it like an art critic. His features soften and he can’t help but simper at the sight of your precious penmanship writing amore mio for him so microscopic he almost missed it.

“I’m sure I’ll love it, bella.” he nods concurring with you and recognising the lengths you’ve gone to with your little craft project. “But these are diamonds, bambina.” he reminds you. You nod, giving him your full attention as he talks. His fingers sensually caress your right earlobe as he inspects the jewels worth more than your life dangling from them.

“I love you, daddy. I wrote such nice things for you; I love you and I’m so grateful for the diamonds.” you express. His fingers begin to wander again, now playing softly with your hair, allowing his digits to smooth over the top of your locks as if you were his pet. His good girl. You suppose that’s exactly what you are. “Is it, my body? Do you want to make love to me, daddy?”

“In a sense, si.” he smiles. “Your body is of greater value than any diamond. I’m not in the mood to make love, baby. You’re meant to be thanking me, not the other way around.” he reminds you.

“My… would you like my mouth?” you suggest. He nods, finally, you got it right.

“Yes, my love. Your head is what is wearing the earrings, so you’ll thank me by sucking my cock. Let daddy fuck your face, mm?” he suggests.

Instantly, you’re nodding; you slip down from the bed and onto the uncomfortable tile beneath. He leans towards his plump pillows, picking one up and helping you place it beneath your knees. You watch him with a wanton dazzle in your eye as he takes his time undoing his belt. It makes him smirk, watching you wait so patiently and adoringly for him to pull his cock out.

It springs free, and your jaw lowers hastily; the expression not going unnoticed by Ran. His breath is heavy when he allows his cock to spring free. You’re hesitant to make a move without his say so, ever the obedient good girl. You wiggle on your knees, looking pensively between his dreamy lilac irises and his pink blushing cock. Only when you hold your stare with his, and flutter your long lashes at him, he nods his head at you. Go ahead, the gesture implies.

Oral sex with Ran Haitani is as much of a pleasure for you as it is for him. It’s a romantic, teasing dance in which you vow to make him feel good and that he trusts you to do as you’re promising. You take your time slowly rubbing his shaft and caressing his sack with the pads of your fingers, and even this simple beginning is enough to rob him of an almost imperceptible moan. They take hold, spread fingers guiding his tip into your mouth before slowly wrapping your plush lips around him.

And you’re cheeky, it’s something he loves about you.

You’re unable to refrain from teasing him to start, only encasing your lips around the tip before pulling off of him and pouting. Looking up at him like a sultry little harlot; the pout displayed on your face is to tell him that you miss it. You miss his cock as if you aren’t the one who pulled away. And you do it over… and over… and over… making out with his swollen cockhead each time.

With every painful neglectful pull from him, you return, taking more of his length into your mouth. He’s big. The biggest cock you’ve ever had, not that the number of those is particularly substantial. You’ve never been able to take the entirety of Ran inside of your mouth. And he’s never made you feel bad for it. You suck his cock like you were the person who invented it, so full of love and fervorous desire.

Your eyes flutter shut as you take him, getting lost in your own little perfect world that no one but you and he occupy. The sound of you sucking his veiny manhood fills the room with an obscene suctioning. With each suck you enact, tiny lustrous moans escape you. Ran makes a noise not too dissimilar from a gasp when he sees a lewd spit string attach his leaky tip to your puffy lips. He allows himself to groan in appreciation when you drool around him, your saliva drooping and connecting with the floor beneath you.

He looks down at you with a heavenly stare when you eventually open your eyes again, only doing so because you wanted to see how he’d react to you willingly taking his throbbing erection deeper into your welcoming mouth, tumescent lips protruding around him.

“Baby, heh, your diamonds are swinging while you suck my daddy cock.” he laughs lightly. You pull away completely while looking up at him, a wide smile overtaking your face. You had felt their movement but didn’t think Ran would have commented on it. It’s only fair they give him as much of a show as you are, given the small fortune he spent on them. The two of you share a laugh before you return to him.

You house him perfectly in your mouth, sucking him in completely. And he’s got such a messy cock, now. What, with you licking and laving all over him the way you are. The sticky sound of blowjob lips making a sodden state of his drippy, aching length is deafening. You begin to kitten lick at his weeping slit, looking up at him with lust-filled lidded eyes.

The corner of your mouth leaks, garnering his attention. A sinful mixture of your spit and his pre glinting in the sunlight flooding the room. It’s enough to earn another moan from him, making you want to work harder. You suck his cock at an ever so slightly increased pace while moaning around him, the noise gratifying him into throwing his head back.

Your mouth opens wide for him enough to look down and see your tongue, using it to lick the underside of his tip. Drool spills from your lips and onto the ground again in the process, holding your mouth open a bout too long. Lazy, loving eyes close once again as you continue, truly beginning to lose yourself in the moment.

Your head turns so that you can run your cute, desperate tongue along the left side of his cock to the base. Slowly… slowly… slowly… and then it returns back to the tip at the same painstaking pace.

“Such a little tease, bambina… Good girl,” he praises, smirking at the way your thighs squeeze at the compliment. You receive him past your lips once again, moaning around him. “Good girl, good fucking girl. You look so pretty like this, baby.”

You begin to suck, mewling with each and every bob of your head. Your diamond earrings move in tandem, an item so respectable and grandiose now laced with such salacious connotations for him. Whenever you move your head and they follow suit, he’ll remember that you’re his good little cocksucker.

And you are good.

He wouldn’t have hung onto you otherwise. He wouldn’t be buying you diamonds and defending you to his roommates if you weren’t a perfect cock whore. Despite only being able to take a little more than half of him, you’re still so damn good. You never fail to make him cum, never fail to make him feel good.

Your cheeks hollow around his tip, keeping there for a moment more than necessary as you bat your eyelashes at him. Like your mouth isn’t stuffed open wide with his heavy, cherry tip. And then you pull away with a dramatic pop. Ran can’t help but moan at the sound. You come back to him with your jaw hanging low and tongue pressed into the underside of his tip yet again. A copious amount of drool pours from you, enough to make a dripping sound when it connects with the floor tiling. He grunts at each sound you make. Every drop of salvia and string of spit that you create because you’re losing yourself to worship him. His cock, his pleasure, just him. You lick the tip tenderly, puckering your lips around the head to physically kiss it.

You love it.

You love his cock and everything it can do for you.

He still doesn’t pressure you to take anymore of him that you can handle into your mouth, somehow moaning more. Enjoying it more and more with each guzzle and sucking sound you produce and every romantic gaze you offer him.

Ran’s hand reaches down to cradle your head. His fingers run through your hair as you consume him, you’re almost too distracted to notice his hand is on you. The angle of your head alternates a few times to better satisfy him. Your spit slicken cavern is perfect for him. Every suck is composing a boisterous amount of noise. And Ran can’t help but moan loudly, loud enough to make pride bloom in your beating heart. And he’s moaning because he has done this to you. His cock has turned you into a slobbering, slippery mess. He almost can’t stop himself from moaning, carrying on when he sees you quicken the tempo once again. You angle your head just enough that he can see your cheek bulge with his delicate desire.

His free hand reaches down to hold himself from the base. Your mouth immediately opens to form a large ‘O’ shape. He guides his cock around your lips as if he’s applying a lipstick the shade of precum to them. More drool waterfalls out from your swelled lips while his large veiny hand guides himself from tracing around your top lip to smearing across your tongue again and again.

You murmur a mewl in anticipation. Entirely desperate to be stuffed with his cock and thank him in the way he desires for his oh so generous gift. He pushes his cock straight into your mouth and pulls it out just as suddenly, leaving you almost begging desperately for more. He repeats it, leering as you begin to lean forward to chase his cock for another taste rather than be teased a second more. You sink halfway onto him, but he slips his cock out again and urges you to follow.

“Daddy…” you moan, so whiny and needy for him as you follow after all. His broad palm holds your head in a very guiding manner, helping you find your way back to him. He wants his cock to return to its rightful place in your mouth. Your cheeks hollow again, sucking rapidly and pulling away to make the loudest squelching suctioning sounds you can, the pair of you can’t help but moan at the eroticism of it all.

You don’t pull away anymore, sucking and sucking as best you can. He sees how hard you’re working, how badly you want him to cum. But you’re being removed from him carefully.

Ran knew before you did that you weren’t breathing properly; you gasp as if you’re lungs are physically clawing to drag oxygen back to them. The loss of Ran’s cock is a crushing loss, you know he doesn’t care for whining, but you can’t help yourself. But you cease when you’re returned to him, thanking him by taking a little more of his length than you had previously.

Ran moans in sympathetic appreciation, hand lingering to brush your face, hold your chin, feel your throat.

His cock slides out of your mouth and rests on your cheek. He holds you assertively by your chin and leads you back to where he needs you; and you’re looking up at him as though Ran Haitani is everything. He holds you carefully, helping you along in what you’re more than capable of doing yourself. But you don’t mind. Why would you mind extra attention from daddy when he’s being so sweet? More slickness is formed inside of your drenched cavity, making his light thrusts sound even more scandalous.

“So wet, baby. Sounds like I’m fucking your little pussy.”

You moan for him and his naughty love language, head lolling from the feeling of contentment. Neither of you can help the raucous desperation you’re emitting into the afternoon air. His hips thrust a slight more urgently, fucking himself gently into your mouth. He moans passionately as he cums inside of your mouth. His cock visibly pulsing and twitching as he deposits his cum onto your tongue.

Your own volume lowers and slows, as does your performance. And for a moment, you still. Looking up at your daddy with a shimmering stare. His cock still pulsating in your mouth, his sack emptying all it has to offer to you. He holds your chin in his hand as though it were made of glass.

“Keep going, bella.” he commands.

Your head bobs and your earrings shake, allowing your lovers cum to dribble out of your mouth as you follow orders. A low, breathy ‘Ohhhh’ falls from him when he bears witness to it. His fingers travel from your chin to the side of your face, and then lets go completely.

Your mouth widens, allowing him to see all of his cum settled on your tongue. He’s sucked into you again, moving your head along him fast enough for him to force his cum to pour out of you. He watches on in amazement as you kiss the sides of his sensitive tip, coating it in cum. Two thick strings of cum ooze and connect to him, too heavy to remain and falling to the ground.

Spit and sperm bubble at the corner of your mouth as you lick and slobber all over him. You kiss down the left side of his cock, taking your time to show love to his cock with gentle affection. You smother the base in soft pecks, tickling him only enough to warrant a heavier breath and his abdomen to clench. He watches as you opt to carefully move to his cullions, lapping and gargling them into your mouth, all while holding eye contact with Ran.

“Doing so good, bambina.”

A strained moan exists you as you lick, cum dripping from your chin and attaching to his sack and keeps the two of you linked as you alternate between giving your attention to his cock and balls.

A long, heavy string of cum dangles from his cock. You gather it on your tongue from the bottom and bring it back to his length, massaging it over his cock. He holds the base again as well as your chin, wanting to be sucked a little more.

But if you’re a tease, daddy is worse.

He removes his length from you at a slight angle, echoing a bawdy pop as it leaves you. Ran smears his messy cock around your open mouth again, cum permeating your tongue and spilling from your mouth yet again. You keep your eyes closed as you feel him move his cock around your face. Your tongue begins to swirl, your only hope of searching for him with your eyes shut.

Ran pushes past your lips again, giving you the opportunity to suck. But, for once, you’re the one to remove yourself. It comes with a shocked, almost amused, gasp. You’re realising how much cum is cascading from you both. He holds his hand out to cradle your cheek, your head tilting to the left to meet his hold.

More cum gushes out of your mouth once you suckle on his tip. A thick, white creamy string of cum dangles from your chin. You resume making out with his heavy tip and hear your daddy chuckle above you.

You’ve dribbled some cum onto one of his fingers.

You move your attention from his cockhead to his fingers, wanting to get your daddy’s fingers nice and clean. He leers as you take them into your mouth, only his middle and ring fingers. Every inch of your daddy is so perfect, even his fingers between your lips is enough to make you moan.

“Messy girl,” he states. He had noticed another dollop of cum drooping from your chin. He takes his fingers from your mouth and scoops it up, fingering it back into you. “Such a good little sucker. Thaaaaat’s it. Nearly done baby, back to my cock now.”

He steers your face with the pads of his fingers back to his aching tip. You hum around him, making an even bigger mess of the two of you. You suck him as loud as you can knowing how it makes him leak and flutter when you do. You’re winding down, now. Hollowing your cheeks one final time to offer him one last lascivious pop, bobbing your head a handful of times before you calm.

You kiss his tip like it’s so heavenly delicate. A few feeble pecks before coming off entirely. The two of you an unseemly mess, completely covered in spit and cum.

“Thank you, bambina, you did so well for me.” he informs you, reaching into his pockets, eager to attempt to reignite the flame of his cigar.

You help yourself up, dusting off the pillow you’d been using to protect your knees before returning it where it belongs. It upset you to see he was more enraptured by his Cubans than your letter. He, once again, had cast it aside in favour of pursuing his own enjoyment. There’s a difficulty in understanding why he wouldn’t want to read a love letter you poured your soul into. You pick it up, carefully, holding it sweetly between your fingers without making eye contact.

He side eyes you, watching you without seeming to care about what you’re doing. And that is when you decide to leave his side; walking to the balcony to stare out at the view instead. There is a temptation brewing fiercely inside of you.

You want to throw the letter.

You do, but not really. There are tears in your eyes being fought back with a vengeance as you hope to God they won’t spill over. What’s the point of hanging onto it? He doesn’t care about it, not enough to read it. He’s happy enough with an afternoon delight of mind-blowing head. He doesn’t care about love.

Blood frosts in your veins as you feel his presence behind you, looming over you as you know he does with so many of his other victims. He’s paralysing you. You’re unsure how your daddy, who you know to be sweet and gentle, is able to instil you with so much fear without doing anything.

He walks closer to you, his arm brushing yours as he stands by your side. You observe him take a few final drags of his cigar before tossing it over the balcony. There’s a snicker from him when you yelp as he snatches the letter from your hand.

“Did I upset you, sweetheart?” he asks. You gulp shallowly, unable to respond as you watch him take a better look at your letter. “Ah… ‘amore mio’, hm? Did daddy make you sad for not reading your letter?”

You nod, a little dumbstruck. He holds your chin between his forefinger and thumb, tilting your head down to kiss your forehead. His left leg raises to rest on his right thigh while standing, pulling a knife from his garter belt attached to his sock. He slices the rope you tied around the envelope, making sure the flowers didn’t fall to the ground. Instead of discarding them, he tucked the flower stalks behind your ear and admired how your face seemed to blush in the evening sun.

He takes the letter from the envelope and brings it to his face, smelling your floral perfume infused into the paper. Ran unfolds it, but before he reads, his head sags. It’s as if he is disappointed in you.

“I don’t want you to see that fruit grocer again.” his statement coming across more as a subtle command. You mange to prevent yourself from scoffing, knowing it will only pour gasoline onto the flames.

“He’s my friend. He’s best friends with my boss, Ran.” you remind him. And at that, he does scoff. “I’m sorry I overstepped, today. It was just a friendly kiss! But there’s no way I can avoid him.”

“Your papa is a very rich man. As am I. You don’t need some little job when we can give you anything you want.”

“My papa would skin you if he knew we were screwing, remember. I like my job… I’m sorry, Ran. But I promise I’ll… I’ll make sure to keep things more respectable between Hakkai and I.”

Ran’s eyes roll gradually up into his head before returning to normal. He doesn’t offer a response, instead unfolding the letter to read what you have written for him. It’s a slow read, taking his time to read each and every word you’ve written. He smiles a lot as he does, making you fill to the brim with pride.

“Hm… ‘I’d do anything for you’, interesting.” he quotes. You keep quiet, not wanting to be reprimanded because what you had written was a lie. He finishes the letter and folds it back up, tucking it away nicely into the envelope. His hand holds the crown of your head before he bends down to kiss your forehead once more. He keeps eye level with you, not letting your head go as he decides to speak. “I don’t want you to see him, my love. Don’t good girls do anything their daddies ask?”

“I’m… sorry. It’s just, this isn’t something that’s possible.”

He nods, accepting your words. The letter is tucked into the inner breast pocket of his blazer for safe keeping. And then, before you can register, his hand is holding yours.

He’s guiding you out of the room.

“W—”

“You have to go. Clean yourself in the bathroom and then go home.” he instructs. You can’t say a word before he’s shutting you out. Literally. He doesn’t slam the door in your face, but he may as well have.

And now you are crying, running across the hall to lock yourself in the bathroom and shield the sound of your tears by running the taps on full blast. You look at yourself, eyes red raw and stinging from tears. And you can’t help but feel used. You’ve been used like a whore and tossed aside. It doesn’t take long for you to wash your face and tidy up your appearance.

The flower he’d placed behind your ear has fallen into the sink. You wish you never came here. You wish you never gave him that God damn letter or any of your time. In that moment, a temporary flash of red blinds your vision. You douse the flowers with water from the taps on the highest setting until they’re being swallowed by the plug hole, never to be seen again.

It doesn’t make you feel the least bit better.

You lightly dab your face with a towel and then decide to take your leave. When you leave the bathroom, you spy Mitsuya’s basket of oranges outside of Ran’s bedroom door. You huff, picking it up and trudging down the stairs.

“Ahhh, is the mob princess going home?” Rindou laughs at your expense, earning approval in sniggers from Haruchiyo and Takeomi.

“Yes, I’m leaving. Try not to follow me this time.” you bite back. Instantly you duck as Sanzu picks up a plum from your gift basket and throws it like a baseball at your head. A mirror shatters behind you, the reflective glass smashing by your feet.

“Watch your fucking mouth, princess. Just because your papa is in charge don’t go thinking you’re untouchable. We know how to clip people without leaving a trace.” he eerily reminds you.

“I’ve told my papa should anything to happen to me that you be the first person he suspects. He doesn’t like you, y’know?” you inform him. His teeth grit at you as he growls like a beast.

The commotion summoned Ran from his bedroom, who rushes to your side when he sees the broken mirror at your feet.

“Bastardo. Fucking dick. How many times have I told you to leave her alone?” Ran snipes at him. He only has himself to blame, of course the rest of his roommates were going to be crueller to you without him there. “Rindou, walk my baby home.” Ran insists. His request is denied in the form of his sibling flipping him off.

“I can walk home by myself, I walked here by myself.”

“See,” Rin speaks without looking at either of you.

“No, you walked here with Rin keeping an eye on you. So, my bratty bambina and little shit brother, do as you’re fucking told for once in your lives.” the two of you find yourselves ducking again as Rindou decides to hurl a peach at you both. More of the mirror breaks and rains around you. “AH! Dickhead!” Ran yells when he stands back up. He rushes over to his little brother and punches him in the face.

“Fuck sake.” Takeomi grunts.

Rindou punches him right back, both of their chests heaving with rage. Lavender eyes engage in a staring contest that has more at stake than just competitive loss. Ran grabs his brother by the shirt, pulling him up and throwing him to the ground. You shake your head, turning on your heel to leave so that you don’t have to witness anymore of this sheer nonsense.

“Ah, fuck!” you shout, realising you’ve been pelted with fruit on your bicep. Sanzu. You make eye contact with him, menacingly shaking his head at you. Warning you. Forbidding you from leaving the building without permission.

You watch for a few minutes as the Haitani brother’s continue to fight each other. They’ve broken the coffee table due to Rin pushing his big brother so violently he fell into it. Ran took a cheap shot, kicking Rin in the balls, forcing him to collapse to the ground. The two continuing to punch and kick the shit out of each other in the debris.

“Just fucking take her home!” Ran yells, punching his brother’s cheek.

“She’s your bitch, why don’t you?!” Rin responds, returning the same punch to Ran’s opposite cheek.

“Because I asked you, fucking little shit. And she’s not a bitch! Don’t fucking call her that!” he angrily replies. He wraps his hands around Rin’s neck and applies enough pressure to have him kicking and gasping, his whole face becoming as red as a cherry.

“Fine—! S-Stop, I’ll do it—!” Rin manages to choke out.

He lays in the broken remenants of the coffee table for a while as Ran falls backwards to sit against the couch. Both of them fighting for air, chests expanding dramatically with every inhale. After some time, Ran stands to his feet and offers his brother a hand up. They smirk at each other before Takeomi and Sanzu stand beside them. The other brother’s slapping them upside the head to put an end to the dramatics.

Rindou pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and then he looks at you. Both brother’s approach, Ran kisses you on the lips one last time before bidding you farewell. He retreats to his room and leaves you to the devices of his roommates.

“Be a good girl!” he calls to you, shutting his door with a soft click.

Rin smacks your ass and guides you out of the door.

Looking at Rindou Haitani from behind makes you feel unusual. The inverted black and blonde hairstyle that he and his brother share is enough to make you believe you might be looking at the elder sibling, like you’re intoxicated and out of your own head. There’s two of him. An ever so slightly shorter Ran is walking ahead of you. Hands in his pockets and effortless swagger in his steps. Cigarette smoke lightly twists and spirals into the evening air, spinning until it ultimately dies in the breeze. You hear a noise spill from him. A grunt or a ‘hm?’ quiet enough to be a trick of the mind. But you know you heard it when he turns around. Round glasses helping you remember he isn’t your lover, not even close.

He's the younger brother that loathes you.

He grabs the fat of your upper arm flesh, pulling you closer to him. Rindou bends over so that he’s eye level with you. It’s another disparity from the Haitani that you fell for. The Haitani that you love with everything that you have. When Ran bends down to talk to you, to look intently into your eyes, it’s loving. He’s a good daddy, he cares about you, he worships you. He wants to protect and adore you, making you feel small and oh so cute makes you love him even more.

Rin, however, is intimidating. He isn’t scary in the way that Sanzu is, but he still manages to send a chill down your spine. There’s lingering undertone of mania hiding behind his dull, heavy eyes. He always looks so tired, but the smile is what gives him away. Lumbering eyelids can’t hide what a garish smile presents.

Anger. Insanity. Impatience.

“Walk ahead of me or beside me. Not behind.” he instructs. You scoff, picking up the pace as you decide you’d rather drop dead than walk by his side. It prevents you from seeing the way his face sours as his eyes roll at your petulance. “Am I so bad?” he wonders, knowing the answer that is already bulging from each and every braincell you possess.

You ignore him, instead. You’re a smart girl – smarter than anyone gives you any credit for. Why would you say something that could antagonise him when you can keep schtum and get back home without being bothered?

“Rindou, go home.” you tell him.

“Hah?” it isn’t enough to stop him in his tracks, but he certainly slows. He looks down and notices the way your hand is holding the basket full of oranges for your boss. Trembling fists as you take a tighter grip of the handle. “Are ya that scared of me?”

“’m not scared.” you protest.

“Oh?” he snickers. “Then why are you shaking like a fuckin’ leaf, piccola?” the volume of his amusement raises as you stop walking. Your shoulders drop and you can barely stifle the sigh that you want to exhale.

“I’m not scared of you, Rindou. It’s chilly tonight, s’all.” you fib.

Of course you’re scared of him. You know how much he hates you and would prefer you to be tossed over the edge of the docks with cinderblocks bound to your feet. Wouldn’t anyone be scared if they were you? To be loathed by every single member of the most prolific gang in The Amalfi Coast save for one, you wouldn’t wish that on your worst enemy.

“Bullshit. It’s boiling, one of the hottest nights we’ve had so far.” he laughs, as though your lie was so outrageously stupid. You suppose it was. “’m not gonna hurt ya. Your fuckin’ daddy scares the shit out of me. Think he’d rip my insides out of me while I’m still breathin’ and feed them to his dogs.” he smiles, it’s not quite a joke as the possibility is very real. But he knows he won’t hurt you, so that particular fate is not one he’ll ever meet.

He catches up to you, his hand settling in the small of your back as he attempts to push you further along on your journey. Your steps follow his, walking in tandem with him as he escorts you home. The smoke from his cigarette wafts in your face; a scent that has given you a pavlovian response to think of Ran whenever it invades your senses. An inhale that you had intended to be discreet becomes obnoxious as you allow the gorgeous, cancerous scent fill your airways. He hears a familiar sound. The sound he coaxes from many a woman when he has the time and the funds for one of life’s simple pleasures. Though he doesn’t think he’s ever heard it so softly. A meek, wanton moan as you imagine your lover. The things you have done and will do with Ran Haitani. All while he smells of burning tobacco and covers your body in nicotine kisses.

Rin smiles.

You’re quite cute, aren’t you?

He stays at the bottom of the stairs, observing each step you take up to your own house. You don’t want him here anymore. You don’t want him to watch you or to wait around while you let your guard down in the safety of your own home. But he isn’t leaving. He’s staring as you put the front door key inside the keyhole. He doesn’t stop when you lower the handle and open the door.

What is he waiting for?

“Did you need something, Rin?”

“Go inside and lock the door.”

You can’t help but smile. It’s a soft smile, though. Your features filled with warmth from the pink and orange sky and the fading yellow sun. The apples of your cheeks are swelling as you try to stave off your little smile turning into a fully-fledged grin. It’s sweet, really, that Rin is being so protective. You know it isn’t for your benefit, it’s for his brother.

He knows his brother is sweet on you. He knows how crushed he’d be should anything happen to you. So, by default, your safety is a high priority of Rin’s, too. Although… it probably helps that your father would have them all killed if they let anything happen to you.

“Get home safe. Goodnight, Rin.” you speak. His brows furrow, like you spoke a foreign language he’d never have any hope of understanding.

“Huh?” he sounds, the perplexity that he’s experiencing bleeding into his voice. “What did you say?”

“I— goodnight, Rin?”

“Before that.”

“Um… oh! Get home safe?” you wonder, what could be so perplexing about such a simple sentence?

“Ah, no one’s ever said that to me before.” he chuckles. “You really give a shit about me and my safety? Or are ya just sayin’ it?”

“Rin…” you exhale. “I love your brother, a horrendous amount, actually. He loves you… of course I give a shit about you. Contrary to what you might think, I actually like you. All of you Bonten boys, even though you don’t much care for me.”

He drops his cigarette to the ground and extinguishes it with the bottom of his shoe. When he looks up from the squished cigarette, there is a look in his lilac irises that you’ve never seen before. Empathy, maybe. A little bit of sorrow might be in there too, his gaze boring into your own and seemingly unable to break away. It’s intense, neither of you finding any words to say. His eyes fixated onto yours as the uncomfortable silence floods the atmosphere around you.

Rindou is the one to turn away first. His eyes squinting and teeth gritting for a split second before his lazily cool and calm exterior returns to him once more. He tilts his head in the direction of your front door, a silent instruction for you to head on inside.

“Go on.” he speaks, so mildly, the sentence could almost be drowned in a sea of the crickets singing their night-time chorus. “I’ll get home safe… goodnight.” he smirks.

“I’ll be seeing you… g’night, Rin.”

Your heart pounded a million beats per second when you closed the door behind you. You hadn’t expected Mitsuya to be awake. He’s lying on the couch, his back against the armrest with a glass of merlot on the tiled floor beneath. One of his knees is almost at his chest, his sketchbook resting against it as he sketches away calmly. His glasses seated at the end of his nose make him look so wise. You’ve never known anyone so relaxed and at peace when truly in their element.

“Sorry I—” you stop yourself, unable to continue when he looks up at you with such a positive warmth diffusing from him. He isn’t mad, he’s never mad at you. But still, you know you owe your boss an apology. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back to work, and I’m home so late. But… I have your oranges.” you inform him, bringing the basket to him and leaving it beside his glass of wine.

“It’s fine, bella. Grazie.” he thanks you, peeling one of the many oranges you’ve gifted him with. As he places an orange segment into his mouth, he turns his sketchbook and shows it to you.

“Oh, Suya… This is beautiful.” you smile, astounded by the stunning and complex design. He nods, the gesture filled with gratitude and appreciation. “Now I see why you’re in such a good mood! Is this going to be a new dress you fill the boutique with?”

“Nope,” he shakes his head, swallowing the orange piece in his mouth. “The most glamorous woman I’ve ever seen came by the boutique not long after you left. She told me she wants a one-of-a-kind dress for her wedding day, and that money is no object.” he beams, utterly ecstatic over the prospect of what this one client could do for his boutique.

He sits properly on the sofa and allows you to come and sit beside him as the breaks down his vision for the extravagant wedding gown. It’s so nice to see him like this, so truly fulfilled by what makes him happiest in life. You rest your head on his shoulder as he carries on talking, though your focus begins to waver.

Flurries of blonde and black hair invade your memories. It wouldn’t worry you, normally. What could be so bad about thinking heart-fluttering thoughts about Ran Haitani? But that’s just it. You can’t bring black on blonde on black to the forefront of your mind. Instead, the opposite. Blonde on black on blonde. Why? Why? Why can’t you get his lethargic lids out of your mind? His violet vision studying you like a he had seen a mythical creature in the very flesh. His hands gripping into your arm, violent skin so much softer than you would ever have thought. No one ever telling him to get home safe, so filled with anger and pain the very statement bewildered him.

Oh, he wants to be adored.

You’re fucking his brother, though. Aren’t you meant to be in love with his brother? So, then, pray tell, why are you thinking of Rindou as opposed to the one you’re actually screwing?

“She’s coming tomorrow.”

How did you manage to fabricate such a tall tale about a monster like Rin Haitani? He is a monster. But, you suppose, every member of Bonten falls under that illustrious title. Each and every member has blood on their hands. They are all cruel, cold, calculating. But for whatever reason, Ran softened for you. He let you in and allowed himself to love you and to love you in turn.

So stop fucking thinking about his brother.

“She said her fiancé is some hot-shot businessman.”

Overthinking such a simple thought will lead to your undoing, the death of your rationale. For once, just this once, you have seen a man you loathe in a different light. A man who puts the fear of God into you, in a way you never thought you would. He isn’t anything. He isn’t anyone, to you. He is only, and will be nothing more than the brother of Ran Haitani. He is not a man you should be fantasising about. Imagining what your children would look like and how you’d feel in his arms. Whether he’d kiss your body as softly as Ran or comfort you just as sweetly. Would he appreciate your love letters and thoughtful gestures more than Ran had, today?

“I think she’s marrying a mafioso, but that’s just me.” Mitsuya continues, unaware that you haven’t listened to a word he’s said since you sat down. “You hear me?”

“Hm?”

“Why don’t you go to bed? You look like you’ve had a hard day. I want you working extra hard tomorrow since you ran off today.” he informs you light heartedly. You stand up, and then bend down so that you can give each other a kiss on the cheek before you retreat to your bedroom. You knew he’d be spending another few hours lying on the sofa and sketching his design to absolute perfection.

You suppose you should be sick of the sight of Mitsuya. Considering you live with him and work with him, you’re barely out of each other’s way. But, alas, it doesn’t bother you at all. He’s the kindest person you’ve ever known and you’re happy to be sharing so much of your life with him and have him do the same. Of course, your papa would have happily funded a place for you to live alone if that had been what you wanted. But living with Mitsuya makes you feel safe. You can’t imagine coming home to a dark house and no one to keep you company. His mere presence makes you feel that much more secure.

And knowing that there is no chemistry between you makes you feel that much safer. It means that everything he does for your benefit isn’t disguising any ulterior motives. Why would he try and seduce you when you’ve already slept with one another? He just cares about you. It’s really that simple.

And that is why you have no qualms about sleeping in your room naked. Rindou was right, after all. The heat is sweltering. Fuck. Rindou. You’re cursing yourself for letting him penetrate your thoughts again.

It isn’t this deep. It shouldn’t be this deep. It’s not as if you have a crush on him. It’s not like you even like him, really. A slither of a somewhat vulnerable hidden layer in the younger Haitani has you positively reeling.

You can’t deny what’s beginning to occur at the apex of your thighs. The slippery slickness that Ran can summon from nought but a look in your direction. He can make you wriggle and squirm in no time at all. But Ran isn’t here. He’s barely even on your mind.

You can’t touch yourself and think about Rin.

You can’t.

But you are. Thinking about how he’d manhandle you and make your naked body his plaything. His fingers deep in your pussy while his lips latch around one of your breasts, causing you to cream more juicy goodness for him to use to his advantage. All while whispering obscenities to you, specific language that your papa would put a bullet between his eyes for using in reference to his baby girl.

It's intoxicating.

Picturing your fingers weaving between lustrous locks as you attempt to stable yourself and just be with him. Experience him. Have him douse his cock in your slippery offering before pushing deep inside until you feel positively full.

The sex would be so dirty.

So filthy.

And you cum. You cum and you keep on cumming as you cover your mouth with your free hand, knowing you’ll scream out in overflowing ecstasy and chanting a mantra you absolutely shouldn’t be. And that, you know for a fact, because it’s the only thing repeating in your mind like a broken record.

Rin.

Rin.

Oh… Rindou!

“Rin…” you huff, desperate to fondle your own breast as you ride out the last remnants of your high. The fat of your thighs are so silky, completely sodden with your arousal. Your chest swells as your breath does all it can to recover to its natural rhythm. Your bliss surges through your body, aftershocks plaguing you as you continue to lightly tickle your clit.

When you finish playing with yourself, you assume a comfier sleeping position. Eyes feeling as heavy as Rin’s often appear now that you’ve made yourself orgasm, a sure-fire way to propel you into a paradisical slumber. You’re exhausted. Your mind is drained. And yet, your internal monologue can’t help but bully you.

How can you live with yourself? How will you sleep at night? Your poor boyfriend… You basically cheated! And you’re such a bitch. Of all of the people in the world, you touched yourself over his fucking brother.

You just came thinking about Rindou Haitani.

“Fuck,” you mutter.

You wake up late, unsurprisingly. Mitsuya has already left for work, the area he’d been working in last night now completely spotless. He’s so neat and tidy, just a generally wonderful housemate. There’s no trace of him, you wouldn’t have even known he was there if you hadn’t seen him for yourself.

The day is warm, as most are, prompting you to wear another little dress. It’s light and airy. White is your usual colour to wear, knowing it’s the best colour to wear in the searing sun. You leave your hair down and only apply a little bit of mascara. You’re late enough without doing a full face of makeup. Mitsuya is kind and understanding, but you’re sure even he will have his limits. You doubt he’d be pleased to see your face painted to perfection when you were meant to start work two hours ago.

He greets you warmly when you venture inside. The basket of oranges you got for him is placed on the corner of your desk, he and the woman he is chatting with each enjoying one each. Both of them are laughing and smiling, you can only imagine what is so funny.

“Bella, this is Signorina Gianna. The client I’m creating a unique design for.” he smiles, taking her hand in his as a sign of gratitude. She holds her free hand to her chest and returns his smile almost bashfully. She’s beautiful. One of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen. You wonder if she might be a famous model, perhaps that is how she can afford to treat money like it’s nothing at all.

“I’ve heard wonderful things about your dresses, Mitsuya. I trust you to create something beautiful for me.” she tells him. She’s making a good decision, you think. No one knows how to capture the beauty of a woman through the artistry of clothes better than Mitsuya does. You can feel the love, preparation and adoration he pours into each and every inch of the clothing he makes. “My fiancé wants me to be the happiest I can be so he assured me that money wouldn’t be a problem on any scale.”

“That’s so exciting,” you tell her, taking an orange and sitting at the cash register to continue conversing with the pair in front of you. “tell me about him!” you insist, earning a chuckle from her.

“Tsk. Behave yourself, don’t be so rude.”

“Haha! It’s fine,” she assures him. “He’s so beautiful. Very work oriented, he owns his own business. We’ve been together for five years. I started thinking he’d never propose, but, here I am! He said he’s ready to commit to me properly and… he wants to start a family with me.” she grins from ear to ear. It’s obvious how in love with him she is. The happiness of others rubs off on you so easily. Especially when it comes to romance, you’re such a romantic.

“Ah! So respectable, wanting to make you his wife before having children. I like that.” you tell her. She nods, agreeing.

“It’s very important to both of us that we don’t have children out of wedlock. And I know the babies we have will be gorgeous, like their papa! Would you like to see him?” she asks you, earnestly. You can’t say that you aren’t intrigued, hopping off your stool and standing by her side. She begins raking through her bag as she searches for a photo of him. “This is us a year ago in Venice!” she explains.

“He looks familiar… is he from here?” Mitsuya questions.

Their conversation turns to white noise. He looks familiar. He looks really fucking familiar. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears. You can’t decipher whether you’re boiling or freezing. Your body suddenly perspiring at an alarming rate while an inexplainable chill in the air has you breaking out in goosebumps and shivering as if you’re in the North Pole.

“So beautiful…” you mumble. The look on their faces tells you that you’ve fallen a few conversations behind. The bride-to-be doesn’t know what to say, and Mitsuya isn’t sure how to recover the discussion they were having. Your eyes are dripping wet, sorrowful crystals inhabiting your lash line. “I need to… go.”

“You just got here!” Mitsuya almost yells at you.

“J-Just for a minute… I don’t— I feel sick.” you caution him. An eyeroll that is so quintessentially him is offered to you. But of course, it is always followed by some sincere kindness. A quick nod and tilt of his head in the direction of the door.

You don’t walk, but it’s not quite a run either. Not until you’re outside and out of their line of sight. A hand flies to your stomach as you try and keep your sickness inside. You’re fighting a losing battle, though. Knowing there’s nothing you can do to prevent the rising wave intensely rolling through you. You create a makeshift ponytail with your hair, realising you’re powerless to stop it. It’s humiliating. Vomiting right outside of your place of work. Where so many people recognise you. Know you. A man offering you a napkin and a woman handing you a bottle of water.

“’m fine, really. Grazie.”

You’re far from fine.

What a familiar fucking head of hair her future husband possesses. What an interesting style that you just so happen to recognise. It’s such a coincidence that her fiancé has dyed blonde and black hair. There are only two people you know in Italy with hair that colour. That style. And, fuck. Why has this happened to you? Of all the people in the world. Of all of the boutiques in the world, why did she have to come to this one?

But, more importantly…

Why is Ran Haitani fucking you if he’s marrying someone else?

© b-imbou 2022

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Fandom:MCUPairing: Baron Helmut Zemo x ReaderWarnings:Sexual intercourse with a female-identifying person with a vagina + a bit of sugar daddy Zemo vibes at the endNotes: Y’all... don’t judge me. I have a power kink, and Marvel did me dirty by randomly deciding that Zemo is fifthly rich royalty. And my girl @henrysmorgan​ did me even dirtier by actively encouraging my attraction to this fucker. So, blame Marvel, and blame her. // This is kind of really fucking long, and I didn’t edit it much, because I wanted to get it posted before episode 4, in case that episode flips the script. So, potentially some editing issues, and slightly rushed writing. Hopefully it’s alright, but please let me know if I screwed up anywhere. //Lots and lots of TFAWS ep. 3 spoilers

When Bucky texted you to ask that you meet him in some dusty, old, abandoned-looking car garage, you certainly didn’t know what to expect. All you knew was that an old friend needed your help, so you intended to be there.

It had been a few months since you’d last seen him, and even longer since you’d participated in any sort of mission, but you suspected that was what you were walking into. Being exposed to the Mind Stone had granted you the power of telepathy, which meant that SHIELD was quite keen on persuading you to work for them. They trained you in martial arts and hand-to-hand combat, and you went on miscellaneous missions a handful of times. They put in a lot of effort to convince you that it was your moral obligation as an “enhanced individual” to help them with these missions, but you ultimately decided that that simply wasn’t the kind of life you wanted. Instead, after the Blip, you began working a desk job for SHIELD, which is when you crossed paths with Bucky, helping him with paperwork associated with his pardon, and the two of you formed a friendship. But SHIELD kept trying to coerce you to get back into the field, constantly badgering you about it and making it clear that you weren’t wanted if all you were doing was paperwork.

The truth is, you weren’t cut out to be a superhero, and you had no desire to be. It didn’t help that your entire country had been reduced to rubble several years prior, leaving you with a bottomless pit of homelessness in your heart. So, you left SHIELD, and started a life in Berlin, where you were content to live out your days as the owner of a small bakery, residing in the small apartment above your shop.

That is, until Bucky Barnes dragged you into a particularly sticky situation, with a certain Baron Helmut Zemo.

You knew that helping Bucky and Sam would throw a colossal wrench in the life you’d created for yourself in Berlin, but after they explained the situation with the super soldiers, coupled with Bucky’s puppy dog eyes, you found yourself refraining from storming out of the building the second you saw Helmut fucking Zemo.

“We need you to keep an eye on him. You don’t have to tap into his mind 24/7, we just want a heads up if he’s going to screw us over,” Bucky explained.

"Look, we really need him. We’re obviously scraping the bottom of the barrel here, otherwise he'd still be in that cell. And neither of us want to be packing a criminal around like a rich bitch's chihuahua, so we need you here to make sure we're not gonna get bit," Sam explained.

"Fine. But you both owe me," you relented, and they both took sighs of relief. You glanced at Zemo, locking eyes with him for several tense moments. He gave you a polite smile, giving off the impression that he had nothing to hide – which he didn't, as his thoughts showed his intentions were pure at the moment. "We're good for now. He just genuinely wants the opportunity to take down these new super soldiers."

Sam and Bucky nodded, visibly releasing tension from their shoulders as they moved to head out, now reassured that Zemo was truly on their side. Meanwhile, Zemo eyed you with curiosity and awe, murmuring, "Fascinating."

The four of you walked on the landing strip toward a private jet, owned by Zemo.

"So all this time you've been rich?"

"I was a Baron, Sam. My family was royalty before your friends destroyed my country," Zemo explained, before glancing at you with a small smile. "But you knew that already."

"Wait, how did she know that?" Sam asked, then turned to you. "How did you know that?"

"I am Sokovian myself. I was certainly not royalty, but I lived there for my entire life, until it was destroyed," you explained, stopping outside the jet as Zemo greeted the elderly butler, Oeznik, in your native language. It made you smile to yourself; it had been years since you'd heard it spoken. Zemo shot you a grin when he noticed, and when you took a peek into his mind, you saw that he understood exactly how you felt.

As the butler handed Zemo a flute of champagne after you all boarded the jet, the Baron smiled politely as Oeznik stated, “Apologies if that's a little warm. The fridge is out, but I will see if there is some good food in the galley.”

Zemo glanced as you sat across from him, then in Sokovian, Zemo told Oeznik, "Another flute for the lady, please. And if the food does not pass the smell test, give it to the gentlemen."

"It's good to have you back, sir!"

As the man retreated to the cockpit, also in Sokovian, you noted, "You are a mischievous man, even more so than in your infamously criminal ways."

"You will find that there is more to me than meets the eye, angel," he responded coolly, the Sokovian language rolling off his tongue like honey. Before you could respond, admittedly enjoying speaking Sokovian, Sam grew tired of everyone speaking a language he couldn't understand.

"Why don't you tell us about where we're going?"

After a tense exchange between Bucky and Zemo, followed by a discussion about Marvin Gaye, Zemo finally got to the point: Madripoor. You exhaled slowly, resting your forehead in your palm in exasperation.

“You couldn’t have invited me on a mission to Cancun? Or Paris? Why must it be Madripoor?” you asked Bucky, who shot you a tight-lipped, pitying smile, silently apologizing for what he was dragging you into.

“What’s up with Madripoor? You guys talk about it like it’s Skull Island.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s,” Bucky explained.

“And upon seeing it, you would see that times there haven’t changed one bit since then,” you added.

“It’s kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone,” Zemo said.

You frowned as you caught a glimpse of Bucky’s thoughts as he went silent. Fear. Anxiety. Disdain. Apprehension. You reached across to rest your hand on his shoulder and give it a reassuring squeeze. He shot you a small smile, then looked out the window.

Upon landing in Madripoor, one of Zemo’s contacts met you on the landing strip with a new wardrobe for you, Bucky, and Sam, and Zemo explained that each outfit was per his instruction, carefully chosen to fit the role each of you would be playing in Madripoor. One by one, you took the covered clothes hanger to the bathroom of the jet and changed. Bucky was first, stepping out in some sort of leather number, looking eerily similar to the Winter Soldier you’d seen in photos. Sam was next, donning a three-piece suit of burgundy and gold. He looked sharp, although he was immediately complaining about how ostentatious it was. And finally, you stepped into the room and closed the door behind you, unzipping the covering on the hanger and revealing your “carefully chosen” outfit.

“Ich werde dir im Schlaf die Eier abreißen, Zemo!”

Bucky choked on his water and Zemo chuckled under his breath, while Sam looked between the two in confusion.

“I don’t know what she said, but she sounded pissed,” he observed, eyeing Zemo suspiciously.

“She informed me that she intends to remove my testicles in my sleep.”

“And why is that?”

“Perhaps because he’s chosen to parade me around Madripoor like a cheap whore,” you said angrily, stepping out of the bathroom with your hands on your hips, glaring at Zemo.

“That dress is by Armani Prive, and your shoes are Louboutins – far from ‘cheap.’ And you do not look like a whore, the dress is merely more revealing than what you are used to,” Zemo argued, standing and walking over to survey your outfit. He seemed to be enjoying what he saw, judging from the way his eyes raked up and down your body, but you didn’t dare check his thoughts to confirm or deny it.

If you were honest with yourself, he was right. It was a very nice dress; plum purple, matching the color of Zemo’s turtleneck, with long, fitted sleeves, all of it made of the softest silk you had ever touched. It was fitted at the top but flowy from the hips down, with a low balconette-style neckline, showing more of your chest than you were accustomed to, although you pulled it off quite nicely. It ended just above your knees, which was fine, as you sometimes wore skirts of that length. Overall, the luxury of it and the low-cut neckline ensured that you were out of your comfort zone, but you looked stunning – and expensive, despite your spite-fueled initial claim.

“I thought the color would look nice on you, and I was right. And I knew that the flow of the fabric at the bottom would allow for this,” Zemo said, his hand gingerly trailing from your waist to your thigh, where he pulled up the hem of your dress slightly to reveal the edge of the Glock strapped into your thigh holster. He smirked as his suspicion was confirmed. He knew you’d find a way to arm yourself, regardless of what you wore.

In hindsight, the way Zemo touched your side and lifted your skirt was all far more intimate than you should have allowed, and yet… you couldn’t deny the way your breath caught in your throat when he touched you, or how his close proximity made your body temperature rise, as he gazed down at you with those intense brown eyes.

Christ, you needed to get laid. Soon. Before you further entertained the idea of jumping the bones of a highly wanted criminal.

“Touch me like that again, and I will kill you where you stand,” you informed him sternly, and Zemo immediately took a step backwards, looking apologetic. From the corner of your eye, you saw both Sam and Bucky visibly relax, tension leaving their shoulders. You had read their thoughts briefly, and they were both wondering why the hell you were so calm about getting cozy with Zemo. The absolute last thing you wanted was for them to know that you were, in fact, inexplicably drawn to being that close to the Baron.

As the four of you walked along a bridge in Madripoor, Sam was quick to resume his complaining.

“We have to do something about this. I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.”

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname,” Sam grumbled, then looked at the phone Zemo handed him. “Hell, he does look like me, though.”

“And who am I supposed to be?” you inquired, glancing down at your clothing to see if you could guess who you were meant to be portraying. An heiress or socialite, perhaps.

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered simply, the faintest smile on his lips.

You barked out a crude laugh, “Oh, I think not.”

“There is no one involved with Madripoor who looks like you. And it is rare that there are newcomers to the island, especially not in the place we’re going. Pretending you are someone random would raise concerns about the intentions of your presence; you would be perceived as a potential threat, which would jeopardize our mission. It is far easier to simply pretend we are engaged, I assure you.”

You hesitated a moment, before arguing, “No one will believe that we are engaged.”

Zemo pulled something from the inside pocket of his jacket, took your left hand, and slipped it onto your ring finger. It was a solitaire diamond ring; not large enough to be gaudy, but enough to catch anyone’s eye.

“They will if you play your part well,” he told you, then addressed the rest of your party when he added, “No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There is no margin for error.”

The four of you reached a sleek black car, and climbed in, you in the back between Sam and Bucky. The ride to Low Town was tense and silent, as each of you mentally prepared for what lay ahead. When you arrived, Zemo offered you his hand as you exited the car, and the pointed look in his eyes told you that it was time to begin playing your part. You took his hand, and as you began walking into the heart of Low Town, he laced his fingers with yours. As the crowd drew near, Zemo wrapped his arm around your shoulders, gloved fingers brushing against the exposed skin of your shoulder. After reading his mind, you realized that it was both for the sake of protecting you, and showing possessiveness to make it believable that you were his girl – and because he simply enjoyed having your body close, although you suspected that he’d rather you have not known that.

Despite the fact that you had been on a few missions for SHIELD, you were not exactly incapable of fear; you did not possess nerves of steel. All of the missions you’d been on were low-profile, and you were mostly just there for the sake of gathering information from those reluctant to share it. Sure, you’d been in danger before, you’d had to fight your way out of several sticky situations, but this… this was different. You were in the crime capital of the world, a lawless place filled to the brim with crooks, thieves, and murderers. More than likely, any given person around could slit your throat and never bat an eye or give you a second thought. Swallowing your own pride in the face of fear prompted you to return Zemo’s gesture, wrapping your arm around his waist and sticking close to him, which earned a smile from the man.

When you arrived at your destination, Zemo approached the bar and leaned against it confidently on one arm, the other still wrapped firmly around your shoulders.

“Hello, gentleman,” the bartender greeted, before his eyes fell on you. “Who’s your new lady friend, Baron?”

“My fiancée,” Zemo answered, then turned to you and ran his finger along your jawline, as you looked at him in adoration. “Isn’t she lovely?”

“Very,” the bartender acknowledged, then turned to Sam. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed. We have business to do with Selby,” Zemo responded.

The bartender made ‘Smiling Tiger’ his usual drink, which apparently consisted of… something he cut out of a snake, and dropped in a shot glass with a bit of liquor. You shared a look with Bucky before he turned away to survey the room, and when you read his thoughts, you found that you both desperately wanted to laugh out loud at Sam’s ‘short end of the stick’ situation, but didn’t want to risk everyone’s lives for the sake of a chuckle. You returned your attention to Zemo, opting to sell the whole “fiancée” thing a bit more by turning into him and tracing patterns on his chest as you gazed at him affectionately, while the bartender handed you and Zemo each a shot glass of your own – sans snake organs, thankfully. You both downed yours, while Sam understandably struggled a bit more with his, but still managed it.

A random man approached Zemo then, and as Zemo turned to face him, he protectively moved you behind him a bit.

“I got word from on high. You ain’t welcome here.”

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo countered, gesturing toward Bucky, who looked menacing as he pretended to be the Winter Soldier. “Or bring Selby for a chat.”

After a weary look in Bucky’s direction, the man walked away, and Zemo turned back around to face the bar, this time keeping you in between him in the bar, in case someone were to come up behind him – which they did a few moments later.

“Winter Soldier… attack,” Zemo commanded in Russian, as a different man came up and laid a hand on Zemo’s shoulder. With a pained look in his eye that quickly shifted to cold determination, Bucky grabbed the man’s hand with his vibranium arm, twisting it as he removed it from Zemo’s shoulder. Zemo took a step away from the bar to allow you room to turn and observe as Bucky beat the absolute shit out of various challengers. Zemo wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him as he noted, “Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.”

The unmistakable sound of numerous guns cocking drew your attention away from the altercation, and Zemo gently pushed you behind him as he surveyed the room to note all the weapons drawn. Sam grabbed Bucky’s bionic arm to stop him, but Zemo whispered, “Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.”

“Well done, soldier,” Zemo then said to Bucky in Russian, signaling for the ‘Winter Soldier’ to stop.

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender interjected, and Bucky released his grip on the random man’s throat.

“Thank you,” Zemo responded, walking off to find Selby, grabbing your hand to guide you, but not before you spared a sorrowful glance at Bucky as your friends followed closely behind.

As Zemo took a seat on a couch across from Selby, you sat close to him, crossing your legs gracefully as you leaned into him, your arm wrapped around his as he clasped his hands in his lap authoritatively. You watched his exchange with Selby in silence, as did Sam – and Bucky, of course, considering he was pretending to be the Winter Soldier.

“By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison,” Selby told Zemo, then smiled as she looked you up and down, before her eyes found the diamond ring. “And not engaged – to a woman far out of your league, I might add.”

“People like us always find a way, don’t we?” Zemo answered calmly, then looked over at you, staring into your eyes with warmth and adoration, and you smiled lovingly at him. “My beautiful fiancée was a guard at the prison. We fell in love over the years, and she helped me escape. Anyway, I’m sure you have already figured out what I’m here for.”

The conversation went relatively smoothly after that, until Sam’s goddamn phone rang and screwed the entire operation. In the blink of an eye, Selby was shot dead, you had shot two of the guards with the gun strapped to your thigh, and Sam and Bucky had each knocked out one, before Zemo suggested sneaking out of the bar as best you could, without any weapons. You secured your gun back in its holster, not missing the way Zemo watched as you hiked your dress up to do so, before making a break for it with the three of them.

Once you were on the streets of Madripoor, bounty hunters began to come out of the woodwork, and when they began shooting at you, Zemo abruptly grabbed your hand and ran down a nearby alleyway. As you were running, the heel of your stiletto caught on a grate, and you’d have fallen flat on your face if Zemo hadn’t caught you.

“Are you alright?” he asked hurriedly, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he supported you, before standing you back onto your feet. You nodded, and he glanced over your shoulder as he noticed a few men looking down the alley. “Forgive me.”

You were about to ask what he was talking about, but then Zemo abruptly grabbed you by the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, pinned you against the wall behind you, and kissed you.

The men at the end of the alleyway muttered something about “freaks who do it in public,” then their footsteps faded as they walked off, clearly thinking the two of you were some overly horny couple, not two of the people with an insane bounty on their heads. But you were barely paying them any attention, a bit preoccupied with the fact that Zemo was fucking kissing you, and much to your chagrin, you really fucking liked it.

Once there were no more voices and no more footsteps, Zemo broke the kiss and sat you down. The two of you stared at each other for a moment, before you heard more gunshots, and you broke into a run in the direction Bucky and Sam had gone, desperate to find your friends, and no time to process what the hell just happened.

As soon as you caught up with them, the two bounty hunters nearby were shot dead, and the four of you turned to see Sharon Carter emerging from the shadows.

An hour later, you found yourself in her swanky home in High Town, in a change of clothes, since the brick wall Zemo had held you up against ripped the back of your silk dress. You lied to Sam and Bucky, saying that it happened because you fell while running in your heels, and thankfully, they believed you. Sharon commanded the four of you to lay low and enjoy the party, which Sam and Bucky left her living room to go do, entrusting you with ‘Zemo watch.’

It seemed as though he was merely nursing his brandy in lieu of abandoning it for the party prior to finishing it off, but his eyes were on you most of the time. You didn't necessarily believe he could be plotting to overpower you and run off, but there is always that possibility, so you delved into his mind to check.

Expecting to find thoughts of strategy about how to defeat the super soldiers or travel plans, or even plots to escape you, Bucky, and Sam, you were astounded to find nothing but thoughts of you.

The way it felt to kiss you in that alleyway, and how he had monetarily debated just staying there, having his way with you against the brick wall before Sam and Bucky could locate you. The dress from the bar, and how it rested on your thighs, revealing just enough to have his mouth watering without being revealing to the point of immodesty. The way your necklace currently rested against your bare collarbone, and how desperately he craved to litter the area with love bites. The delicate skin of your throat, thinking of how it would look with his hand wrapped around it, just enough to cut off a bit of air but not enough harm you. How alluring your voice is, and how much he'd like to know what it would sound like to hear you scream his name. The softness and warmness of your skin when he had his arm around you in the bar, and when he held your hand as you fled the scene, and he wondered how soft and warm you were elsewhere.

"Your thoughts are filthy."

He bristled immediately, sitting straighter in his seat and eyes going slightly wide, either forgetting you can read minds or not realizing you'd be doing it right then. It only took a moment for him to regain his composure, before he took one long, last drink of his brandy and set the glass on the table in front of him. He turned his whole body to the side to face you, as you sat on the opposite end of the couch, wearing a small, somewhat mischievous smile.

"I suppose there is no sense in denying it, is there?"

"What game are you playing, Zemo?" you snapped. He was rattling you. As much as you hated to admit it, he was. For the entirety of the time you'd been around him, this wanted criminal had been flustering you, and goddammit it, you wanted to know if it was accidental, or for nefarious purposes. He could be using it as a tactic to throw you off your game, so that he could get away when it was just the two of you – like right now.

"There is no game, Liebling," he stated softly and sincerely, sensing your discomfort. Slowly, he scooted closer to you on the couch, so that the arm he had laid across the back of it was now behind you, as he stared intently into your eyes. "Merely the natural response of a man who has been widowed and then locked in a prison cell, and therefore has not known the touch of a woman in many years, sitting next to a woman of absolute ethereal beauty."

You said nothing, merely stared at him, sizing him up to see if he was toying with you or telling the truth. Zemo sensed your lack of belief in his words.

"If you doubt my true intentions, you are welcome to delve as deep into my mind as you'd like to find the truth."

In all honesty, you'd have done that already if you weren't trying to avoid being even more flustered by his thoughts about you – but you couldn't tell him that. So, you did as he bade you, and searched his mind to find any shred of malevolence towards you, but you came out empty-handed. Zemo genuinely just wanted you, craved you, like a starved man sitting in front of an endless buffet. He watched you carefully as you came to this conclusion, and although you said nothing further, he knew that you had found what you needed to know.

"Just say the word, and I will never approach the topic again, as well as attempt to quiet my thoughts about you. But if there is any part of you... deep inside you," Zemo paused, eyes grazing you up and down purposefully, before continuing, "that has any interest in being with me... I will do anything to bring that to fruition."

The ball was in your court now. You could tell him to get bent and never speak to you like this again… or you could get your rocks off, and maybe even get something more in return.

"Such as?"

"Name it, Schätzchen. Anything you want. A car, a mansion, jewels – say it and it's yours, if you will be mine," Zemo proposed earnestly, licking his lips quickly as he looked at you, visibly thrilled that he was getting somewhere with you.

You weren't the type to accept gifts from men you barely know, but… this was Zemo. A man who had done a great many terrible things, which soothed your guilty conscience. So, you said the first thing that came to mind.

"A car," you blurted out, then explained, "Mine broke down a week ago, and it's beyond repair, so… a car."

"Tell me the make and model of your preference and I'll have it delivered to your home within a week's time," Zemo said calmly, then brushed a lock of hair away from your face, before allowing his fingers to trail delicately along your cheek and jawline. "Is that all, Kätzchen?"

"No. One more thing," you replied, then looked at him sternly. "You must agree to never speak of this to Bucky or Sam."

"You have my word," he assured you, smiling in amusement.

"Then I'm yours."

Zemo's smile faded slowly, and he merely stared at you for a split second, before cupping your face in his hands and pulled you into a searing kiss, full of ferocity and sheer desperation. It shouldn't have been this easy, to kiss a man who's done such terrible things – yet here you were, melting into his embrace, allowing him to pull you into his lap and straddle him, your hands resting on his shoulders and gripping the black fabric of his turtleneck. His hands laid flat against your back as he kissed you in this new position, slowly gliding down, down your sides and to your hips. He kissed you in a way that was feverish and fast and hungry, as his fingers dug into your skin, holding you firmly against him as if he were fearful that this was all a dream and you'd disappear at any moment. Upon taking a peek into his mind, you realized that was actually exactly what he was thinking. Additionally, he mentally spoke to you directly, somehow knowing you were reading his thoughts at that moment.

"Tell me if I do anything that you do not like, and know that you have absolute freedom to end this at any given moment."

You pulled away slightly to nod in confirmation that you received his message, before resuming the kiss. Mind hazy and instincts taking over, you found yourself tugging his bottom lip between your teeth, earning a low groan from Zemo. One of his hands darted upwards to grab a fistful of your hair, right against your scalp at the base of your neck, and he pulled on it harshly, causing you to let out a wonton moan. He then laid that hand flat against the back of your neck, holding your lips firmly against his as he kissed you with even more fervor, and the other vacated its position on your hip to slide slowly up your torso, until he began palming your beast through your shirt. You moaned softly against his lips, but not as loudly as a moment ago.

Zemo wanted more, needed more; he longed to hear you loud and desperate. So he delved that hand at your neck back into your hair, gripping it tightly once more, and used it to pull your head backwards a bit, so that he could have better access to your neck. The action itself, and the tightness of his grip, earned an embarrassingly loud moan to escape your lips, and you felt him smile against your skin. He moved his hand to the middle of your back, supporting you as you leaned back a bit to grant him better access. As he littered your neck and décolletage with kisses, you felt him pull the neckline of your blouse down a little, then felt the sharp pain of a bite on your chest, above your breast. When you looked at him with narrowed eyes, he wore a cocky little grin.

"You should not be surprised, Liebling. I know you saw that I've been wanting to do that all day when you read my mind," he noted. "Wear a high neckline tomorrow, it will be fine."

Before you could respond, Zemo pulled you flush against his chest with that hand behind your back, and into another heated kiss. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and without thinking, you ground your hips down on the bulge resting against your core beneath your skirt. He groaned, both hands flying to your hips to push them down again, guiding them as you repeated the action. It only took a minute or two of this before Zemo had enough, abruptly grabbing you by the throat and throwing you down onto the couch beside him. He then loomed over you, one hand propping himself up and the other applying slight pressure to your throat, gazing at you with admiration in those searing eyes, pupils blown wide from lust. You looked right back at him, pupils undoubtedly dilated as well, eyes half-lidded, panting a little, and hair a bit of a mess.

"You are an absolute vision," Zemo praised softly, to which you smiled, then he released his grip on your neck to lean down and kiss you again. That only lasted a moment, before he broke the kiss to pull your blouse up and over your head, tossing it carelessly to the side. Your bra joined it shortly after, then he moved to your skirt, fussing with the zipper for a moment, but it seemed to be caught on something, as it wouldn't budge. Before you could interject and state that you'd get the zipper yourself, Zemo ripped the seam apart with his hands, before tearing the article from your body and tossing it like he had with the blouse. A gasp escaped you, but you had no time to think much about his actions, before he was pulling off your panties and bra as well, dropping them somewhere beside the couch.

He was then looming over you again, kissing you breathless as he rested on one elbow while the other hand toyed with your nipple, his knee coming up to rest between your legs as he laid between your body and the back of the couch. You tangled your fingers in Zemo's hair, moaning against his lips as you sought friction against his leg. He smiled softly against your lips, before your hands wandered, finding the hem of his shirt and tugging it off of him. You had just managed to get his belt off before his hand left your breast, trailing downwards across your torso as he moved his knee further away from you, before delving between your hips and expertly locating your clit.

No longer capable of focusing on ridding Zemo of his clothes, your hands gripped his shoulders, and he hissed deliciously as your nails dug into his skin when he began rubbing small, methodical circles on your clit. Small moans fell from your lips as he watched the way your mouth hung open slightly, face relaxed and eyes closed as you enjoyed his work. But again, he wanted more, needed more. Still observing you, he delved his middle and ring fingers into your core, causing you to let out a loud gasp that faded into a long, low moan. Zemo smiled to himself. That was the reaction he was dying for.

He kissed you senseless, drinking in your moans and gasps of pleasure like wine, his free hand cradling the back of your head as your arms wrapped around his neck. It didn't take Zemo long to find that sweet spot, deep inside you – as he'd subtly alluded to earlier – that longed for his attention the most.

You couldn't help but moan loudly and cry out, "Fuck! Baron!" Zemo growled low in your ear, clearly a fan of your usage of his title as he picked up the pace, fucking you with his fingers with expert precision and speed, sending you hurtling over the edge with a string of curses in both Sokovian and English. By the time he removed his fingers from you and stood, you were seeing stars, breathing heavily as you laid flat against the couch. When your dazed gaze found him, he was naked from the waist down, and was just finishing rolling a condom over his length. You had no idea where he got it from, but you were way beyond giving a shit at this point. Zemo then rejoined you on the couch, roughly spreading your legs apart as he kneeled between them, looking at you with a primal, deep hunger in his eyes.

"You are certain that you want this?"

"Yes, please – fuck," you cut yourself off as he began rubbing your clit again.

"Yes please, what?" His voice was low, teasing, as he continued his work below. "I want to hear you say it again, Kätzchen."

"Yes, please, Baron."

"Good girl."

Zemo took your leg and rested your calf on his shoulder, before easing himself into you, agonizingly slow. You watched through half-lidded eyes as his brows furrowed together, his jaw went slack, and his eyes squeezed shut as he bottomed out. He was silent, but you very much preferred it when he was a bit vocal. So, you flexed your muscles down there, and he groaned, letting his forehead fall against your shoulder.

"Do not do that if you want this to last long," Zemo suggested through clenched teeth. You smiled to yourself, then said the magic word that you knew would get him going.

"Yes, Baron."

He growled again, right in your ear, then sat more upright to begin a harsh, quick pace of thrusting. His hips collided with your body each time, causing a delicious sort of pain, and he leaned down to lock you in a messy, deep kiss.

A few minutes later, Zemo moved your other calf to his shoulder as well, and the new position enabled him to get delectably deep inside you. You raked your nails down his chest, watching as a shudder ran down his spine, all the while releasing small, breathless moans and whimpers. When he opened his eyes again to gaze down at you, he licked his lips before delving both hands under your head and into your hair, and forcefully gripped two fitfuls of it at the base of your skull. The moan that tore its way from your throat was animalistic, as your nails dug into his forearms as you desperately gripped them from their positions on either side of your head. Just then, he hit a spot deep inside of you, and that familiar, tight coil in your lower belly began to form.

"Fuck! Right there, Baron, please, right there!"

"As you wish, Schätzchen."

Zemo began to thrust even faster, careful to maintain the same angle as he released his grip on your hair and leaned up a bit, so that he could resume rubbing your clit. Moans began to fall from your lips practically endlessly, and somehow, you still needed more. More, more, more. You took his free hand and laid it on your neck, and he instinctively wrapped his fingers around your throat, careful to apply pressure on the sides but not the front, as to avoid harming you. When he opened his eyes once again and looked down at you, he couldn't stop the moan that escaped him.

"You will be the death of me, mein Engel," Zemo whispered, seemingly more to himself. All you could do was moan in response.

"Baron, I'm going to – fuck – I'm —"

"Yes, come for me, Kätzchen. I want to feel you."

That was all the encouragement it took. Well, that plus how perfectly he was rubbing your bundle of nerves, and how his pace nor angle had faltered once since you had requested exactly that. You came undone again, legs shaking as your nails clawed at his shoulder blades, earning a series of groans from him. As you came down from your high, Zemo's hips began to falter, enthralled by the waterfall you had become, soaking the base of his cock as your walls squeezed around him. His hand at your wet heat abruptly moved to grip your hip, at the same moment his hand around your throat clutched at your hair again, and he met his end with a loud, gruff moan as he spoke a mantra of nonsensical praises and your name.

Zemo rested on his arms on either side of your head, and he let your legs fall to the sides of him, breathing hard against your neck as he occasionally peppered kisses there. He remained inside you for a few moments, savoring the feeling, before you chose to have a bit of extra fun by flexing your lower muscles and squeezing yourself around him again. With a sharp intake of breath, he pulled out of you, shooting you a glare.

In Sokovian, he murmured, "You are a naughty little thing."

"You adore it."

"That I do," Zemo conceded, then stood and walked off to the restroom. You heard the tap run, and a few moments later, he returned with a glass of water for you, sitting beside your feet on the couch and resting his heels on the coffee table. He was exceptionally handsome like this; still catching his breath, sweat glistening on his forehead and chest, a content look upon his face. You spent a minute or two admiring him, before he looked over to you, and a smile blossomed on his lips.

"I cannot thank you enough for that. I must admit, I spent countless nights alone in my cell, dreaming about getting to touch a woman like that again. Especially considering the fall of our country, I never could have imagined I would be lucky enough to lay with a stunning, intelligent Sokovian woman."

"In the spirit of confessions, it's been a while for me, too. My last boyfriend was about two years ago. And I'm not the one-night-stand type. So, do with that what you will," you stated, earning a small chuckle from Zemo. You sat up so that you were sitting beside him, instead of laying down, as you continued. "I fantasized about it a lot myself, but I never even dared to think my next time would be as good as this was."

Zemo smiled, a mix of pride and joy, then his smile softened as he leaned toward you, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. "This doesn't have to be our last time, you know. I would be honored to have you as often as you'd allow me to. And I assure you, I would make it worth your while. I will give you whichever vehicles your heart desires, more jewelry than you know what to do with, take you to the most beautiful places in the world, dine at only the finest restaurants – and above all, treat you like my queen. Take care of me, and I will take care of you, Liebling."

You allowed your curiosity to get the better of you, as usual when you feared that someone was lying to you. You searched his mind for any fraction of false pretenses, but there were none. The man simply found you intoxicating, and would do whatever it takes to keep drinking you in.

The arrangement wouldn't exactly be an easy one, nor would it be all that wise – nor morally correct, in all honesty. But he was undeniably sexy, and the danger and reprehensibility of it all made it that much more alluring. And besides all that – the way his power and wealth turned you on, how good he was capable of making you feel – most Sokovians were dead, and you missed home. Getting to speak your native tongue with him, chat about your country – it made you feel at home with him.

But you wouldn't give Zemo the satisfaction of agreeing to him that quickly.

“We'll see.”

—————

Part Two

“Are you in love with him?” - Tony Stark Imagine

Notes: I wrote and editted this in two hours instead of going over my notes. Was gonna be spicy fluffy but it just turned into fluffy, and one of the lines/paragraphs (smth like that i dont remember how long that segment was) is based on/inspired by a fanfic on ao3 I bookmarked. I think it’s debt-free, but I could be wrong. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and I’m so sorry im not on here more oftennnnn

- - -

“Of course I am. He’s Tony Stark.” You sighed, a weight finally lifted off your chest. “Who isn’t in love with him?”

Bruce blinked a few times, the confusion evident on his face. “Then, why don’t you tell him?”

You scoffed. These geniuses think they know everything, but they couldn’t see what was glaringly obvious to you. “He’s Tony Stark.”

The perplexed expression didn’t disappear from your friend’s expression. So, you explained further, “It’s already a privilege, beyond that really, to be talking to you, to any Avenger. To work with any of you is an honor, and to be friends with you” -you laughed- “it shouldn’t even be possible for someone like me.”

“Don’t say that. You’re amazing, too.”

You tried to find any tick, any clue that he was lying. But Bruce seemed to really believe this. “I know I’m amazing.” You shrugged. “I’m great. I love and I care deeply, and I have a stable job. I have a place for myself, and I take care of myself.” You clicked your tongue. “However, you all, all you Avengers… Forget out of my league, more like off planet.

“And Tony? He said it himself. Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. Add superhero, figurehead, public figure, ex-CEO, and savior of the universe. Bruce, I have confidence in myself, but Tony is something else entirely. No one is worthy of him or his affections unless they’re a god or another Avenger.”

It was hard to keep up with the statistical analysis you were trying to run. The literal one on your hologram and the one keeping your view of Tony in check. So, defeated, you sighed and leaned back in your chair.

Bruce closed his own work and stood across the lab bench. “Weirdly enough, I’m sure none of us Avengers think that way.” After a few taps of his pen against his palm, he added, “Aren’t there fans making posts about you, too? Tony showed me the, uh, Instagram videos.”

You laughed. “Fan edits don’t make an Avenger. Saving the world does.”

He shrugged. “You help us save the world.”

“From inside Avengers Tower on a computer.” You took a deep breath. “Look, Bruce, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But, I’m not telling him.” You shrugged and brought your statistical analysis back up.

You knew your own worth. You were worthy of an amazing partner and person. Tony Stark, though, was easy beyond that. You had accepted it soon after you realized your own feelings, and while they haven’t dwindled, you knew it was for the best.

~ - ~

Tony had never resorted to this before. It was never a question of his ability to code. In the past, it was because he didn’t need a program or an AI to do it for him. He could always tell if someone was into him. He knew when Pepper was into him. The moment Rhodey gazed at him back in their MIT days. Every single reporter and heiress and model he slept with, he knew when their thoughts turned sexual or romantic.

You, though. With you, he couldn’t fucking tell, and he knew it was because of his own feelings. Tony felt intensely for people before. Pepper, Rhodey, that one reporter all those years ago. However, with you, it wasn’t just that fluttery feeling in his gut or the immediate smile he can’t seem to stop when he sees you. It was the comfort he felt when he heard your voice or the softness he could feel in his heart when he saw a picture of you.

It was like his entire life was full of panic, never resting, never stopping. But when you entered his life with a gentle smile and a quick wit, it felt like he could finally breathe.

It was addicting.

“Sir, I have the calculations.”

“Hit me.”

“Speech diagnostics of you and of Ms. (Y/l/n) are similar. Whenever you speak of her, 79.4% is positive and 18.8% is neutral. Ms. (Y/l/n) has 78.9% positive and 17.2% neutral dialogue regarding you. When she speaks of you, her heartrate increases by 4.6%, and similarly, yours increases by 4.1%. When speaking to each other, heartrate initially increases by 7%.”

Tony nodded. “How does this compare to other Avengers? I gush about Banner like a teenager.”

“Well, sir, while you and Ms. (Y/l/n) have high positive dialogue about other Avengers, all of them have at least a 10% decrease compared to each other. And heartrate varies depending on the topic of conversation.”

Tony snapped his fingers. “Am I excluding all non-super friends? Include any agents, co-workers. Pep isn’t an Avenger after all.”

Friday took two seconds and responded. “You and Ms. (Y/l/n) have a significant difference in speech diagnostics when talking about or to each other compared to any other Avenger, co-worker, and friend.”

When Tony remained quiet, Friday added, “Do you want me to repeat the results?”

“You don’t need to, Friday.”

“But you’re not doing anything with the new information. Would you like me to save these findings?”

“Friday,” Tony warned.

There was silence as the love-wrecked scientist pressed his fist between his brows. Data and cold hard facts said yes, but was it right?

“Sir?”

“Yes, Fri?”

“Would you like me to play examples for you?”

He blinked. “Examples?”

“Yes. Of you and her talking about each other positively.”

It was an invasion of privacy. Tony shouldn’t.

“Play examples.”

Before his rational mind could tell Friday no.

“Are you in love with him?”

Tony’s eyes widened. This was too private. It might not even be about him.”Friday-”

“Of course I am.”

“-stop playback.”

“He’s Tony Sta-”

“Playback stopped.”

Tony scrambled. “What? No, wait, go back. Play it.” Screw rational. You knew he was a narcissist. You wouldn’t expect him to hear that and stop.

“He’s Tony Stark. Who isn’t in love with him?”

“Then, why don’t you tell him?”

“... He’s Tony Stark.”

Tony started to fiddle with something on his desk. “What does that mean?”

Friday answered, “Dr. Banner asked her if she loved you, and she said yes. This means that she’s in love with you.”

Why did he program Friday like this? “I know that. I mean, those two lines. Why does me being Tony Stark stop her from saying something?” Was it the attention? Did you want some sort of normal life away from cameras and international gossip? Maybe it was the Avenging. Having a partner who was always out risking death wasn’t ideal.

Sure, you could be in love with him. But you couldn’t be with him.

“Maybe you should ask her.”

There were celebrities who were able to live normal lives. Some paid to have prosthetics for going outside of moved to a remote country to get out of the spotlight. He thrived off attention, but he could give that up. Avenging, he couldn’t give that up, but maybe he could cut back. Take a mission a month instead of one a week. Or maybe take more digital missions. He wasn’t just Iron Man after all. He was a genius, could hack into the Pentagon if he really wanted to.

“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe I could talk to her.”

~ - ~

The moment you put your bag down on your lab table, Tony said, “You’re gonna be mad.”

You narrowed your brows. “What did you do?” You pressed your palm to your chest. “Oh my god, Peter overwrote my data, didn’t he? Ugh, I know he said he’s great at managing holograms, but really, Tone, you should’ve given him a tutorial before giving him access.” You brought up your holograms to check your data and analysis.

“That’s not it.” Tony stood next to you as you looked through your files. “I did something that invaded your privacy.”

You tilted your head. Closing the holograms, you took a deep breath and slowly asked, “How?”

Tony flashed an embarrassed grin before sighing. “You’re gonna be shocked, too, so prepare yourself.”

You did not know where this was going at all. What horrible thing could Tony have done? Steeling yourself, you took a deep breath and nodded at him to continue.

Tony cleared his throat. “Usually, I can tell when someone has feelings for me. People are obvious about it, but you? You aren’t. So, I had Friday do some analysis on our speech patterns. Me, being in love with you, was one of my controls. You and your dialogue regarding me was the main variable.

“Long story short, I accessed some audio of you and Bruce talking, and you said that you loved me but could never tell me.” He glanced at you. “So that’s why I need to apologize.”

Your expression didn’t change. No, that wasn’t it. You, at first, looked confused. Now, there was just nothing. No expression. No wrinkled brow in anger of flushed cheeks in embarrassment. Nothing.

Tony blinked. “You can shout at me now. If you were confused about when to shout at me.”

You licked your lips before taking a deep breath. “Ok, that was a lot.” You pursed your lips then opened it. But, you couldn’t really think of anything to say. You didn’t even know how to feel. “So you know that I” -you pointed at yourself and then at him- “and that I didn’t wanna tell you.” You shook your head. “Wait, do you know why I didn’t want to tell you?”

A broken scoff left Tony’s lips. “Yeah. I’m a mess.”

It was your turn to scoff. “Wait, you’re a mess? That’s why you think I don’t want to tell you?”

“Among other reasons?”

Other reasons?

You crossed your arms. “Ok, what other reasons?”

Tony looked offended. Still, he listed, “I’m surrounded by cameras, and everyone wants some privacy. Can’t get it if you’re with me. Then, there’s the Iron Man of it all. I went into a wormhole with a nuke. That was also all over the news. Then, there’s the whole daddy issues thing. I’m working on it, but it takes a while-”

He rambled on and on, listing reason after reason, and with each one, you felt tears well up in your eyes. It was a weird mix of heartbreaking, confusing, and enraging. The emotions built up slowly with each word that left his mouth, overwhelming you to the point that you couldn’t even say how it happened.

But, as Tony paced and talked so horribly about himself, you somehow ended up in front of him with your hands on his cheeks.

You only realized it when Tony stopped talking and when his breath touched your lips. “What?” he asked.

You didn’t answer. You kissed him instead.

It was a hard press of your lips against his. It was short, and it wasn’t much.

But by the way Tony gripped the back of your neck and pulled you back for another kiss, you’d think it was his first kiss. You knew it wasn’t. Not just because you knew he had kissed all sorts of people before you, but because he somehow knew how to make you gasp and melt into him.

While one hand kept you steady, the other trailed down your back and pulled you closer to him. His lips moved fluidly against yours, pushing and pulling, and everytime he moved back, you chased his lips to continue the kiss, because the softness, the passion, the fact it was finally happening, was all too good. You didn’t want it to stop.

Your hands started to move. For someone so rich, his t-shirt was rough when you twisted it between your fingers and pulled it to you. Slowly, you trailed your fingers along the side of his neck. You rubbed your thumb along his pulse point, a reminder that this was indeed real. You were kissing Tony Stark, and- He was pulling away again.

Desperate, you leaned forward, reached around to hold onto his shoulder, and kissed the side of his neck.

He let out a breathy laugh, and before you could suck on his skin, his stubble scratched your cheek.

You looked up at him and giggled when his nose bumped into yours. When your giggles turned into a smile, he kissed you again, a soft and short kiss, before leaning his forehead against yours.

His thumbs rubbed circles into your waist as you lightly scratched the back of his neck. He didn’t say anything. In fact, he seemed busy gazing at you.

“Speechless, Stark?” you teased.

He laughed. For a few seconds, he just gazed at you, seeming to prove your point. Tony’s hand began to wander, from stroking your cheek to pushing back your hair. “More confused.”

Remembering why you interrupted him, you brought your hands to his cheeks again and held him there so he couldn’t look away from you. “You are amazing, Tony. That’s the reason I didn’t want to tell you.” You shrugged. “You’re too good for me.”

His fidgeting stopped. “Well, that’s not true.”

“Tony, you’re an Avenger.”

“Technically, you are also an Avenger.”

“You’re a genius.”

“Who can’t cook scrambled eggs.”

“You literally saved the universe.”

“After producing weapons of mass destruction for decades.”

You glared at him.

He glared back. Then, he fought back. “I don’t plan on retiring.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.”

“I have severe PTSD, anxiety, maybe ADHD, all mixed with trauma galore.”

“And I will learn to help you.”

“I couldn’t give you a normal life.”

“I’d rather have you anyway.”

He opened his mouth, but you instead told him, “I’d rather have you than anything. As long as, well, for as long as you’ll have me.”

He raised his eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

Tony shook his head with a smile. “Cause, I’d rather have you for, well, how does til you get tired of me sound?”

You laughed. “Won’t happen. But, sure.” You kissed him again.You would’ve kept going, but there was something to settle first. “By the way, Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Is Friday recording right now?”

“Friday records everything. It’s in the contract.”

Friday added, “I record everything that happens in the tower.”

“Ok.” You could work with that. “I’ll forgive you for the invasion of privacy.”

Tony beamed, and you couldn’t help your own smile when he did. Still, you continued, “On one condition.” Your own smile turned devious. “I want evidence that Star Spangled Banner took my ice cream.”

Tony burst out laughing. He kissed you again, a deep kiss, and when he was done, he mumbled, “God, I love you,” against your lips.

Prohibited.

Forbidden.

PAIRING.Ransom Drysdale x Reader.

SUMMARY.Ransom asked for you to come, so you did. Having in mind what would eventually happen, and with the full intention to enjoy yourself while you are at it.

But soon, you find your thought deep in reminiscence on how you and your “cousin” had started this prohibited relationship in the first place.

A/N.DARK AU. It’s a very DARKseries! ANGST AND SMUT (explicit sexual content, 18+ only), slight Daddy Kink. Mentions of incest (kind of... not really. Do not read it if it makes you uncomfortable). Ransom, as usual, is a d***. In the flashback, reader is 20/21, still studying in a private school before going to college. And Ransom is 23/24.

This is Sequel/Prequel of Forbidden. Don’t hesitate to leave a comments, your thoughts, and feedback. I hope you will like it and thank you for reading.

A lots of Love. Lex! xx

WORDS. 3972ish.

°°°

You knew you could just open the door and let yourself in Ransom's house. However, after working for the last years on the West Coast, you didn't know on what ground your relationship stood. Except, when Ransom opened his front door, a faint smile creeping on his lips, his blue eyes mischievous, you knew you were still close from his perspective.

" I thought you would never come. " He greeted you, pushing his body to the side for you to step inside. " I was spending time with the family. " You announced to him, removing your light jacket from your shoulders. " You know, our family. The same family who celebrates Easter and every other holiday together. The family I didn't have the chance to catch up with since I left. " You informed him, tucking your jacket under your arm. " And who's fault is that? " He whispered, embracing your body from behind, his arms on your lower stomach, his face leaning on the crook of your neck.

You deeply sighed already annoyed but pressed your back against his chest, your head against his shoulder, the softest of his sweater under your cheek made your mind quiet for a minute.

" You know, I wasn't the one who left. " Ransom mumbled his lips against your ear. "I wasn't the one who moves across the country, breaking up what we had."" Something we should never have started. " You murmured, your eyes looking at his fancy carpet on the floor. " I took the best decision, and I don't regret anything. "" You sure, baby? " Ransom nudged his nose against your neck and pressed a soft kiss on your skin.

No. No, you weren't sure. But you have made a decision back then; to stop what you have with Ransom. Your cousin. Something that started so quickly that you always wondered how everything had unfolded so fast.

°°°

a couple of years ago;

You always loved to go to Harlan's when you wanted to do your homework. It was quiet, from your little sister begging for you to come to play with her and your mom babbling on and on about a new product. Harlan being a calm, and peaceful man always loved you to come to his place, to talk and grab something to eat and drink or just work. But this afternoon, another person was here beside you.

" Ransom what happened! " You shouted out, frowning your eyebrows at his poor sight.

Leaning on the counter, his hands holding a frozen bag of peas against his cheek, your cousin sighed deeply watching you warily stepped inside the kitchen. You could see the form of a red bruise under his makeshift band-aids.

" Nothing. " He grumbled, dropping his gaze on the floor, annoyed by your question. " Alright. " You grimaced in front of his awful bad mood and shrugged your shoulders. " I'm gonna do my homework here if it doesn't bother you. " You announced to him with a faint smile, dropping your bag on the floor and taking a seat at the smaller table. " Whatever. " He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and pushed his back to you.

You remembered being close with your cousin a long time ago, when you were both just small children. You will never forget the playtime you used to have together, in trees building some kind of cabin and pretending to be either pirates or bandits. But as you both grew, and you both become more different having other hobbies, and interests, you grew apart from one and another. Also, Ransom growing up as dickhead wasn't helping your relationship. A fresh glass of juice and some good cookies and you were in a perfect mood to start your homework. Beginning with a paper on the French Revolution. But a loud noise coming through the TV prevented you to focus on the lines of your book. Glaring at your cousin's back, you quietly swore seeing him increasing the device's volumes, the voice of sports commentators echoing through the kitchen as the pictures of a baseball game played on the screen.

" Can't you just go to the study, living room, or your mom's room to watch the game? " You asked irritated by his selfish behavior. " I'm kind of working here. " You told him, biting your lips to not insult him as you should. " Can't. " Ransom replied, his back still turned toward you. " I don't want to miss anything from the game. " He added, leaning his side on the counter. " Ransom, I'm sure you missing out a few seconds of this won't be the end of the world. " You sighed, throwing your pen on the table as you heard the loud cheers from the crowd while a player does some kind of throw. " Yes, it would be. " He simply declared, starting to tap his fingers on the table next to him.

You rolled your eyes, holding yourself to push him on the ground, and started to chocked the life out of him. You took a deep breath, collecting your thought, and tried to concentrate, once again on the history page until a fast and quick hand grab your book from the table. You snapped your eyes up toward the culprit. Your older cousin's face was holding the book pretending to be interested in the pages.

" And what's this about? " Ransom asked, completely mocking you and making you lose time with his childish behavior. Maybe he hasn't grown up that much. " Ransom, give it back! " You ordered, raising and walking toward where he stood. You tried to reach for your book, but he dodged his hands, a smile playing on his face. " That's not funny but childish, R'. Come on'. " You tried again but your cousin ducked his hands to the other side under your frustrated and angry gaze. " You haven't grown for a bit, haven't you?"" And, you are still the whiny, stuck-up little girl who don't know how to have fun. " He answered smirking as he saw your poor attempt to take your book from his hands.

He took a step back as you took a step forward. You tried once again to take back the book, but this time Ransom put it behind his back, making you pressed your chest against him. You stretched your arms behind him trying to catch your stuff. You could feel his hot breath against your cheek, his profile next to yours. Suddenly, he leaned his face into the crook of your neck and put a soft kiss on your throat, just under your ear. You shivered feeling his warm lips on you, almost forgetting about your little fight.

" You smell so good Y/N. " Ransom murmured his lips pressed against your skin. " You always do. " He added, putting another kiss on your neck. " R-Ransom? " You called him, unsure of what he was doing. " What happened to your face? " You questioned him in a whisper, worry growing inside your stomach. You slightly pushed your head aside, letting more room for his mouth on you. " I fought with some jerk at school. Nothing to worry about. " He explained to you, his lips still brushing the skin of your throat before he put light kisses on you again. He dropped the book behind his back on the table, and pushed his hands around your frame, resting them on your lower back. " I don't want to talk about this anymore. " He murmured pressing a firm kiss on your ear. He bit lightly your earlobe between his teeth. " Y-Your mom says that you fight a lot lately. " You choked a moan, closing your eyes for a few moments before opening them and realizing what was happening. " Do you remember when we were playing at the back of the garden every summer? " Ransom recalled, changing the subject. " We were spending every August together. Sleeping here for the holidays. And, at the moment the sun was up, we were there. Playing all day. " He continued putting light kisses on your cheek, moving dangerously toward your mouth.

You licked your lips, dreading his words and his movement while you put your hands on his biceps, trying to catch your balance. You exactly knew what he will say next. Scared and embarrassed you dropped your eyes on his chest, not strong enough to look inside his mesmerizingblue eyes.

" We played mommy and daddy back then. And we pretended to be in love, playing with your doll and all. We also had our first kiss. A light, innocent kiss. " He breathed out, brushing your nose with his own. " Our first kiss, something I will never forget baby. " Ransom murmured his mouth a few inches from yours. " It was a silly little game for children. " You declared, shaking your head slightly. " We were being goofy. "" What about the time when my friend Carter challenged you to kiss me? " He mused, stroking your waist and playing with the hem of your school sweater, his fingers starting to pull up the fabric to touch your skin. " Was it also a game, or does it meant more for you? " He inquired, his mouth close to yours, you could feel his breath against your lips. " I- I - " You stuttered lost for words, your heart beating hard inside your chest. You licked your lips again, frustrated and confused. " Let's play again, Y/N. " He whispered, his fingers stroking the skin of your waist. He pressed his figure closer to your body. " You will be the mommy and I will be the daddy. " " What are you talking about?! Ransom stop it! " You tried to push on his arms, but his stronghold didn't move away from you. " Why do you want this? " You murmured, puzzled by this odd behavior, still trying to squirm away from him. " Because it's fun and I want to kiss you. " The dark-haired man answered before pressing a soft kiss on your lips.

Stunned, you didn't kiss him back. But you stood inside his arms, his soft mouth against your own. The souvenir of your other kisses playing inside your head when you were young children mimicking what the adult used to do. When you were a teenager wanting to prove yourself in front of his stupid friends from boarding school. Doing the bold move to kiss your cousin for their stupid "dare". Ransom pulled away from you a little and pushed a soft kiss on your cheek.

" Kiss me back, Y/N. It's ok, just kiss me. " He mumbled to you, pressing another kiss on your cheek. " It's wrong. " You sighed, uncomfortable. " If Harlan saw us…" " Grand pa' is not here. " Your cousin informed you, pulling your body closer to him. " Anyway, we aren't doing anything wrong. Come on, baby. Play with me for a minute. " He urged you pressing a soft kiss on your lips, once again. " No. Ransom it's bad. " You pulled your face away from his, pushing your mouth aside from his wandering lips. " We can't, we can't. " You murmured closing your eyes, ashamed. " Of course we can." He protested, enlacing you ore tightly. " I know you want to. " He said, before catching your lips with his own, humming against your mouth.

You closed your eyes, feeling his fingers caressing your flesh, scared, puzzled, and excited, you kiss him back unsure. Confused, you slid your lips against his mouth, tasting him. Ransom bit lightly your lower lip, pushing his warm tongue inside your mouth. Gently he started to stroke you, drifting his hand on you butt. You let him, you rose your trembling hands on his cheeks to pull him closer to you. Ransom backed away a little bit, his bright eyes shining inside the room, lightened by the afternoon sun. He stroked your nose with his and made you turned around, your back collided with the counter. He put his body in front of you and carried your frame on the edge of the table, making you seat on the cold marble board. He put each of your legs behind his hips, a grin creeping on his lips as he stepped up between them. Stunned, your hands still on his cheek, you started to lean your head again to touch the soft skin of his lips. They felt like heaven.

"Now, Daddy will take care of you. " He mumbled against your mouth.

You kissed him, both of your nose brushing and your wet lips sliding against each other. You caressed his cheeks, tilting your head on the side while his hands were on your waist holding you close against his chest. You tucked your feet behind his back, your heart beating hard inside your chest. You were still scared and confused but your needs and desire were growing stronger than anything else. Ransom kissed you back with the same vehemence, his hands under your sweat, stroking your skin. You slid your lips on his cheek, and lightly put a soft kiss on his bruised flesh before leaning your head inside his neck and kiss him harder, your hands drifting behind the back of his head, your fingers caressing him through his soft short hair.

" I- I can't stop. " You stuttered, your mouth against his ear. " I- I can't stop kissing you. " You mumbled kissing the soft skin of his earlobe before biting it gently. " Don't. " He groaned softly under his breath, feeling your teeth on his skin. He slid one hand on your thigh, stroking the black thighs before pushing his hands further down, under your skirt to touch you through your clothes. " I want you to give me everything... " He murmured, his face against your shoulder, biting his lips feeling your nails scratching the back of his head. "First, I want this. " Ransom continued, the tips of his fingers lightly touching your pussy through your light thighs.

You stopped kissing his neck, and Ransom pushed his forehead against your yours, his eyes burning with dark heat. You bite your lips, feeling his hand on your most sensitive part of yourself. Does he know? Suddenly, you heard the front door opened and a low voice coming out from the hall. You quickly try to pull away from him, eyes wide open and your body starting to shake. Ransom only chuckled in front of your reaction but did not let you g. He only pushed his lips against your ear, still smirking.

" Don't worry. I will be gentle. " He murmured, his lips brushing your ear, while the voice of his mother came closer and closer toward the kitchen.

At the minute Linda Drysdale entered the room, Ransom stepped away from you. He turned down the TV, leaving you sat on the edge of the counter, your eyes filled with horror as you watched your aunt talking on the phone. Her eyes were on her luxury bag while her hand was looking through something inside.

" No, no, no Tommy I said 20k of commission. Didn't you hear me? Are you an incapable scumbag and also deaf? Is that why your wife left you! " She shouted out into the earphone stuck inside her ear, as she dug through her Hermès. Finally raising her eyes, she caught you and her son inside the kitchen. " Y/N, sweetheart please get down of the counter, the marble comes from Italy. " She urged you, calmly, her blue eyes soft before they grew hard again. " No, I'm not talking to you Stuart. You remembered you are deaf and useless. " She practically yelled to her interlocutor. She finally turned toward you again with a tired smile. " Please children, would you tell your grandfather that I will be in his study when he came back, thank you. " She said without waiting for your answers and walked inside the hallway toward your grandfather's room.

Still choked, you dropped your frame on the floor, legs wobbly from what happened. You retrieved your history book and started to step forward. You heard Ransom chuckling behind you as you sat once again at the smaller table, still bewildered, embarrassed, and a bit excited. Before leaving the room, Ransom walked behind you , and put a quick peck on your cheek.

" Go, away. " You snapped, frowning your eyes without looking at him. " See ya, Y/N. " He chuckled, even more, beaming while he walked toward the huge living room.

You shook your head, clearing your ideas from what happened with your cousin, his lips, his eyes, his smell, and his soft hair. And tried to focus t on your paper unaware that you just had started something that would go beyond your control.

°°°

" Where did you get the video, anyway? " You demanded, your face pressed against his naked shoulder. You heard him taking a deep breath, pulling his head away from your neck, his grasps on your naked thighs grew tighter." I don't want to fucking talk about another man's dick when I'm deep inside you. " Ransom warned you, his voice low, biting your cheek to emphasize his statement.

You whimpered, feeling his throbbing cock inside your pussy. Straddling him on the couch of his living room, you stroked the skin of his arm, biting your lips.

" I'm sorry, Ransom. I won't mention him, I promise. " You whispered, putting a soft kiss on his lips. " Good. Now start moving baby. " He ordered you, his sentence barely finished that your hips began to move, up and down on him slowly. " That's right be good for Daddy. "

You let a loud moan escaping your lips, feeling his shaft inside of you, filling you up to the hilt. Ransom pushed his hand on your ass, caressing your skin roughly while he raised his head to catch your nipple between his teeth. Rolling the hard bud with his tongue, you pulled your head away from his body, letting more space for him to kiss your breast. You whined feeling the delicious sensation of the tip of his dick hitting you inside, and his warm tongue licking and biting your chest.

" You are so wet for me. " He mumbled, his mouth pressed against your flesh. "So wet and warm around me. It's s’good. " He groaned, his eyes fully dilated.

His wonderful praise to your ears made you increase your pace. You whimpered, dropping your head on his shoulder, once again, feeling him meeting your pace as he thrust himself up into you. Your body was covered in sweat, you felt his lips running up against your cheek before catching your mouth. His kiss was feverish and his tongue warm dancing with your own. Ransom kept shoving his cock deep inside of your pussy, feeling your movement faltered when you were too busy tasting his mouth. You moaned louder against his lips, feeling your climax growing inside of your core each time, he hit the sweet spot inside of you.

" Open your beautiful eyes. " Ransom incited you, he grunted feeling your walls below clenching him more. He looked into your eyes, while you open your heavy eyelids with difficulty. " I want to see you come all around me. I want to see your face. " He panted, pumping you quicker.

You moaned under your breath looking at his dark blue eyes. You hold onto his shoulders, feeling him shifting inside you making you whimper and hold on to him tighter. You had never felt so alive since you left and you could feel every cell of your body awaken while your orgasm hit you hard, blowing inside your core, making you cried out his name watching his feverish eyes in awe. Ransom looked closely at every emotion going through your face, still thrusting his cock inside of your pussy. It's all he needed to let go. Watching you come apart. He grunted loudly your name as he emptied himself inside of his favorite place.

" Fuck, Y/N. " He groaned, his hips jerking up and spams taking hold of his body. " You killing me, baby. " He chuckled low, pulling on your ass with his hands to push your body closer to him.

As usual, you let him, and put your head on his shoulder, trying to calm your ragged breath, beating heart, and blissful emotions. Ransom put a light kiss on your forehead, cuddling you on his couch, his hands stroking your back, his soft dick still inside you.

" I'm glad you are back. " The brown-haired man admitted, opening his eyes and putting another kiss on your forehead. " We can play like the old times. " He huffed, while you frowned your eyebrows stepping away from his body, you looked at him. " I don't want to play anymore, Ransom. You know we can't and I don't - " You tried to tell him, looking at his face as he rolled his eyes stopping his light stroke on your frame." All we do are some kisses and fucking. " He barked, grimacing and mocking your reticence. " It's not that wrong because let me remind you; we are not fucking related. My uncle found you in some depraved orphanage and brought you home. We are not family! " Ransom shouted out at your face, his heated eyes showing his annoyance at your "prude" behavior. " So, if I want to fuck you, when I want to, I think it's ok that I do. " He growled angry and then you felt a sharp pain against your ass. He had slapped your bottom.

You widened your eyes, horrified and surprised by his " douchebag " behavior, and punched him on his shoulder under his glare. Ransom opened his mouth, shocked that you could both play this game. A silly game as usual with the two of you as you both started a series of punch, slap, and blows, fighting each other like you were both, six and nine or thirteen and sixteen. Children snapping at each other with hits on the arms, some hair pulling, and bites. You gasped feeling his cock pulling outside of your pussy and his hands pushing you to lie down on his sofa. Ransom quickly took hold of both of your hands, pinning them on each side of your face. He put his figure above you, hovering your frame.

" That's enough! " He fumed, his dark blue eyes, completely dilated and burning with rage. " You hit first! " You replied, angry with him and trying to free your arms away to get the hell out of here. But he kept a stronghold on you.

You were both panting again, and you both were glaring at each other. But then you felt it. The tip of his cock hard against your lower stomach. Ransom didn't flinch, his hard gaze still on you. The tension was unbearable, thick, and fucked up. But you couldn't resist anymore. He followed the slight movement of your mouth, you opened it a little bit, licking with the point of your tongue the skin of his arm. It's all your cousin needed to start to rub his cock on your clit, hard and slow. You arched your body against him, the tingly sensation making you moaned, and closing your eyes.

" That's what you want! " Ransom breathed out, moving his hips to let the tip of his dick slightly pushing inside of you, but he quickly took himself out stroking your clit again. " Is it what you want, Y/N? "

You bite your lips, avoiding to reply to his question, pushing your head to the side, biting softly the skin of his arm. He chuckled softly, seeing you moving your hips at the same pace as his own.

" Alright then, " Your cousin leaned his head into the crook of your neck, licking the salty sweat covering your body. " Let's play. "

°°°

Tags:@chvntelle-99​@iloveshawnieboi​ @stupendouslovegardener​

Dinner- Hannibal Lecter x OC

Hannibal Lecter x Fleur Ramsey

Description: Fleur is new to Baltimore, Maryland and gets an invite to a certain aristocrat’s dinner party after he takes a particular liking to her.

Word Count: 1.8k

It had been only four months since Fleur arrived in Baltimore, Maryland, yet she already loved it. She told people that it was just a change of scenery that she craved, but there was a darker, more sinister reason lurking within. The police were starting to notice her pattern.

Her M.O. was simple. Men that reminded her of any man who wronged her, especially her father, were usually her prime target, though she sometimes had occupational casualties every so often. Some called it daddy issues, but she chose to simply not address it. Either way, she knew that the cops were starting to suspect signs of a pattern, so she figured her best option was to move across the country. Baltimore, Maryland was the perfect location, and that’s what led her where she was today.

Fleur was at a local antique flea market looking through paintings for her new dining room. She had been looking at a particularly abstract portrait when she heard a familiar voice, which made her turn around. A smile appeared on her face as she realized who had just walked into the shop.

“Hey, Will,” she called just loud enough to catch his attention. The man in question as well as the one with him turned around, a small smile also gracing his face as she began walking over to him.

“Morning Fleur. You’re looking especially happy today,” he noticed.

“I am,” she responded with a bright smile. “I finally got everything unpacked, my house is finally coming together.”

“That’s great,” he said enthusiastically before glancing at the man beside him. “Hannibal, this is Fleur Ramsey, she just moved to Baltimore. Fleur, this is Hannibal Lecter, he’s a consultant of the FBI with me and therapist.” Fleur smiled and held out her hand.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Dr. Lecter,” she said politely. The man took a hold of her hand and shook it.

“You as well, Mrs. Ramsey,” he responded simply with a grin.

“Actually, it’s Miss, but good enough,” she giggled. Hannibal’s eyebrows raised just a little bit in surprise.

“Really?” He questioned, tone matching his expression before he composed himself. “Forgive me, I’m just a bit surprised that no one has even attempted to have your hand.” Fleur couldn’t help but blush at the eloquent compliment.

“I’m afraid that I can’t give an answer to that Dr. Lecter.”

“Please, call me Hannibal,” the man responded smoothly. “Any friend of Will’s is a friend of mine.”

“Oh, well then you can just call me Fleur,” she said before looking between them. “I should probably let you be. Have a good day.” With one last goodbye, she walked back to the painting she was examining, leaving the guys to watch her in her wake.

Fleur assumed that that would probably be the last time that she’d see Hannibal. At least until she got a knock on her door just a few days later. Will was on the other side with an invitation for her.

“Hannibal wanted me to give this to you,” he explained, holding out a coffee stained envelope to her. Her brows furrowed and she gingerly took it, tearing it open and pulling out a similarly coffee stained card.

“A dinner party this Friday?” Fleur read aloud curiously. Will’s eyebrows shot cup and he leaned over to read it.

“Huh, I could have just invited you if I had known what this was,” he muttered. “I was invited too, but not with any sort of card.”

“I wonder why that is,” Fleur responded, looking at him once more.

“He probably just wanted to show off since you’re new around here,” the man shrugged off with a playful grin, which made her giggle. “I can give you a ride there,” he offered, earning a nod from the girl.

“Perfect, pick me up at 6:30,” she answered. Their conversation soon ended and Will was on his way back to the FBI headquarters while Fleur began going over what to wear.

That Friday at just around 6:30, Will picked her up and began heading towards Hannibal’s house.

“I should probably warn you, Hannibal’s house is a bit...extravagant,” Will mentioned as he drove. “He comes from high society and he’s pretty well off. His house is proof of that. I just don’t want you to get overwhelmed.” Fleur couldn’t help but smile. He was too sweet to even think about killing.

“I appreciate that. Now I don’t feel as overdressed,” she half joked, earning a chuckle from the man beside her.

“No, you look great,” he responded as they pulled up to Hannibal’s admittedly large house. Wait, no. House isn’t the correct word for it. Mansion and manor seemed to describe it better. Fleur had to stop herself from gaping at the large building as Will parked the car.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said extravagant,” she commented as she stepped out of the car. Will walked around to meet her then began leading her inside.

“You get used to it,” he brushed off, lifting his hand to use the knocker that sat on the front door. It only took a minute before the door opened, revealing Hannibal in what looked to be another designer suit.

“Will, Fleur, how wonderful to see you again,” he greeted. “May I take your coats?” He inquired as the duo stepped inside. After closing the door, he moved behind Fleur and allowed her coat to fall into his hands.

“Dinner will be served soon,” he informed them. “Until then, you’re free to mingle with the other guests. Maya should be in the living room, Will.” The man in question nodded then led Fleur to the living room where everyone else was.

Just ten minutes later, Hannibal announced that dinner was ready. The guests walked into the large dining room and searched for their names on the card that laid on every plate. Fleur wasn’t surprised to see Hannibal sitting at the head of the table, she was surprised to see her name on the plate to his right. Nevertheless, she took a seat and smiled as the man stood.

“Welcome, esteemed guests,” he started with a grin. “It is my honor to have you here for dinner. Now, before we begin, I must warn you: nothing here is vegan. As long as there are no objections, we will begin.” The guests clapped once his speech was finished and he sat down, beginning to serve food.

“May I offer you a lovely vegetable potage?” Hannibal inquired, already ladling some into her bowl. She thanked him as she began eating.

“So, how do you know Will?” He inquired, also eating.

“Ah, well, I’m afraid that it’s a bit embarrassing,” Fleur began. “It was maybe a week after I moved in. I have a gray Great Pyrenees named Aspen, and she loves to explore. You know how dogs like that are, they go to a new place and want to explore everything. That’s what she did, she somehow managed to get out of the backyard then began trying to look at the neighborhood. Luckily Will was driving through and he found her. He brought her back to me and we’ve been friends since.” She laughed at the memory then shook her head.

“Sounds like quite an adventure,” Hannibal responded with a chuckle as the main course came around. Fleur glanced at the meat in front of her, eyebrows furrowed.

“Entrecôte, sauteed in garlic butter with herbs,” Hannibal explained. It didn’t look anything like what he described to Fleur, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she cut into it and took a bite. She knew what this was, and it definitely wasn’t steak.

“You know, I know quite a bit of French,” the man beside her commented. “Fleur, the name originated in France, it means ‘flower.’ It’s roots also come from the Dutch language, where it means ‘prime and glory.’ Forgive me if this sounds too forward, but I must say that you definitely fit your name, Miss Ramsey.” Fleur couldn’t stop the blush that rose to her cheeks and she giggled shyly.

“Why Dr. Lecter, you flatter me,” was all she could muster as her gaze fell to the table.

“I only tell the truth,” he responded smoothly.

“Are you like this with all of your guests, or am I just special?” She teased lightheartedly.

“Oh, you’re definitely special, Fleur.” He shot her a charming smile as they continued to eat. The rest of dinner went by without a hitch. Hannibal and Fleur continued to make pleasant conversation, learning a bit more about each other as everyone moved back into the living room. Finally, people began heading home around 10:00. Will was quick to find the girl.

“I’ll be waiting in the car whenever you’re ready,” he informed her before looking at the man she’d been talking to for the last two hours. “Goodnight Hannibal.” The doctor returned his farewell and Fleur nodded before Will walked out.

“I guess that’s my cue to get going,” the girl stated, though she looked hesitant to actually leave.

“Allow me to walk you to the door then,” he responded, resting a hand on her lower back.

“Well, tonight has been absolutely lovely Hannibal,” she said as they moved to the large door.

“I’m glad you had a good time,” he answered. “I do hope you’d be willing to come to another dinner. Maybe one with no other guests?” He inquired, looking at her hopefully. FLeur couldn’t hide her surprise at his question, but she was quick to get over it and grinned at him.

“I would be honored to,” she spoke, pulling a pen out of her purse and writing her number on a piece of paper. “I do appreciate you not sending such a formal invitation this time.”

“Well, I do have a bit of a flair for the dramatics,” Hannibal shrugged as they shared a laugh. “You are new here, so I figured you deserved a formal invitation to set the mood of what dinner would look like.” Fleur nodded as they reached the door. The man opened the closet beside it and grabbed her coat, helping her into it.

“I guess this is goodbye for the time being,” he stated as he opened the door.

“I believe so,” she responded, stepping through the doorway before facing him once more. “I can’t wait for our dinner, though I do hope you don’t use the tibia of a homo sapien again. Their meat is much tougher,” she trailed off, just in case someone was listening. Hannibal’s eyes widened just a bit at her words, but the girl just winked at him.

“Goodnight, Hannibal,” she said before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek. With one small finger wave, she pulled her coat tighter against her and walked over to Will’s car, leaving the man to watch her.

“So, did you have a good time?” Will asked as they drove back to her house. Fleur could barely hold back her smirk as she answered.

“It was an experience to simply die for.”

First Times

“Jae”, you whispered, gaining his attention, “We will still be best friends after this, right?”

He pulls you closer to him, making your face rest on his naked chest. He smelled like sweat and that intense body spray, like those days he came back from his basketball practice to meet you under the treehouse. He smelled like home.

pairing: childhood friend/ceo! jaehyun x fem! reader

genre: smut, angst

word count: 6.584k

warnings: loss of virginity, then not so virgin sex lol, squirting

summary: “Jaehyun had been your best friend ever since you were 7 years old, but after a certain incident he disappears, without informing you of his whereabouts. You had come to terms with the fact that you’ll never see him again until your paths cross unexpectedly, meeting as boss and employee”

a/n: I feel like ceo! jaehyun fics are overwritten so I tried to focus more on the childhood friends to lovers aspect, giving it a little twist

———————————————————————

There was no way that was him.

When you were 10 years old you couldn’t wait to have your first kiss. You were plain obsessed with the romance dramas that were playing on tv, your mom complaining about having to witness the same unrealistic tropes over and over again, but you stayed frozen in front of the screen.

Why were the characters so caught up in the thought of seeing each other? Why were they willing to risk everything they had for the other person? You were curious to find out about the love the grown ups talked about, and playing mommy and daddy with the neighbor’s son, Jaehyun, wasn’t cutting it anymore.

He was waiting for you in his treehouse, preparing his toys for your playdate. A table of pots and cutlery on one side of the room and a battlefield with ships on the other. He preferred when you two dueled for the “fate of your country”, but he knew you liked to play house so he compromised. One hour of what you like and one hour of what he liked, that’s what his mom had said.

You stomped inside, your pout not matching his excited smile.

“Finally, you’re here! Can we play my games first? My uncle got me new soldiers, look!” He ran up to you, a bunch of different green miniatures in his hands. You didn’t bother to spare him a glance, too caught up in your personal drama.

“I don’t want to play games,” you whined, “I want a boyfriend!”

Jaehyun blinked a couple times, confused. “But you have one, me. I am your friend and I am a boy”

You threw your head back in frustration, groaning so loudly that the rest of the neighborhood probably heard you. “Noo it’s not the same! We don’t kiss on the lips and stuff!”

The little boy came closer to you, scowling. He was starting to get really impatient with your whining over these dramas that you liked so much. So what if you don’t kiss and stuff? It’s no big deal anyways!

He grabbed your ears, bringing you closer to his face and he gave you a small peck. Your first kiss.

“There. Will you play with me now?”

When you turned 18 you exchanged your love for dramas with a love for art. You also exchanged your calculus workbooks for oil paints and acrylics, busy with piecing together a portfolio that would get you accepted into art school. There was one thing that stayed stable in your life, however, that followed you from childhood into adolescence.

“Hey, sorry for being late, basketball practice took longer than I expected”, Jaehyun apologized and joined you at his backyard. The treehouse had gotten too old for inhabiting but the trunk you were currently lied against served its purpose as your current hangout after school.

“Hey”, you sniffled and he finally noticed how watery your eyes were. He dropped his sportsbag immediately, and sat next to you on the slightly moist grass, your arms touching.

“I’m guessing Mark denied your offer to go to the prom with you?”

You nodded, hiding your face in his embrace before he sees you crying. Being Jaehyun’s friend wasn’t always easy. His easygoing personality and good looks on top of being president of four school clubs made him one of the most popular kids in high school. You reminded yourself that he’s still the same boy you’ve always known, that you don’t have to feel threatened by the army of girls always clinging by his sides, but it was hard. It was hard to recount your rejection from this morning when he probably has never truly felt that feeling before. Even with his college applications pending, you knew he’d be successful. Any institution would be crazy to miss up on him, and the rest of the world felt that way about him too.

“I don’t wanna talk about it”, you mumble, leaning back before you stain his t-shirt even more, “Did Mina find the dress she is gonna wear after all?”

Your genuine worry for his prom date, even after your failed promposal, broke his heart. You were always so empathetic, so selfless, so nice to him. He didn’t have it in him to let you stay in your state of misery.

“Nothing”, he blurted, rushing to explain after seeing the confused look on your face, “she bailed on me last minute”.

That was a lie, but you didn’t have to know that. Jaehyun cancelling on his date would be a dick move, he knew that, but you being happy was his priority. It always has, at least as long as he was still here. “So if you didn’t mind, I was thinking we go together? As friends of course”

“Jae! I love you!”

You tackled him with a hug, the grass tickling his neck and he just laughed at the adorable screech you let out. You both stayed there enjoying the chill evening, talking about renting cars and matching outfits.

He let you rant about the dress you’ve chosen to wear and he promised to convince his parents to leave his house empty for the after party.

The prom night was the last time you saw Jung Jaehyun. There you two were, sprawled out on his bed and tired off your asses, spending what seemed like the most fun night of your life together. Your feet were in blisters from all the dancing, head spinning from the after-party vodka. Jaehyun had turned his head towards you, tie undone and staring at a piece of glitter that had fallen on your collarbone. He looked as handsome as ever in his suit, red eyes glued on you and a satisfied smile on his face.

“Your parents are gonna be so mad when they see the mess on their carpet. I told you not to get Jungwoo drunk”

Jaehyun laughed, his deep laugh reverbrating through the room. “Not if you tell them in the morning. They can’t get mad at you. You told your mom you’re staying over, right?”

You nodded, maybe shaking your head a lot longer than needed but your tipsy self wanted to make sure you got your message across.

“You know”, you started with a snicker, “she gave me like a million condoms for tonight. Probably thought I was planning on losing my virginity like any teenager with a social life”

He kept staring at you, eyes lazily taking in the sight of your pretty smile. “Yeah, same with my dad. I think that’s the only reason why they gave me the house”

You whipped your head to face him at the speed of light, mouth gaped open and staring at him incredulously. “Jae, you’re a virgin??”

It was hard to believe. I mean sure, you hadn’t had any experience in the sex department either but you were, well, you. Shy with new people, horrible at flirting and a bit standoff-ish if you were being honest. But your best friend, as likable and good looking as he was, had never been with a girl before?

“Well, yeah, I was just kinda- I was waiting for the right person, you know? Someone to make it memorable”

You sighed, relating with his words but also...

“I just wish I could get it over with”, you confess and you saw Jaehyun gulp visibly. He was glancing at the nothingness on his ceiling, lost in his thoughts.

“Yeah”

The silence lasted for a few minutes, only the distant sound of a passing police car interrupting it. He sat on his knees, the conversation sobering him up significantly. “Remember when you wanted to have your first kiss and I just did it so you wouldn’t complain about it anymore?”

You smile fondly at the memory, waiting for him to continue. There was somewhere he was getting at.

“Well, we both want to not be virgins anymore, right? So let’s just do it”

You felt an electric tension growing between you. It was like you were holding two magnets, begging to touch each other but you still held them apart, because if you let go you just knew things would never be the same again.

Jaehyun leaned in, dunking his head at the last minute and kissing your neck instead. It was tentative, a kiss that tested the waters. He was still holding back, wanting to make sure you wanted this as much as he wanted it too. You scooted closer to him, placing your legs to frame his closed knees, putting his face gently in your hands.

His pupils were dilated, shifting to a million places but your voice managed to make him concentrate to your eyes solely. You could hear his heartbeat bumping in his chest.

“Jae, I love you. You have to trust me, ok?”

“Okay” he nodded, eyes wide open and sincere,“I love you too, so much”

You kiss him finally, and the room around you spun even more. The feeling was strangely comfortable, yet your lungs were struggling to do their job. In that moment, it felt like everything in the world was the way it was supposed to be, and you two were a part of that bigger, perfectly orchestrated picture.

He grabbed you by your waist, bringing you over his lap. His fingers danced from your thighs to the zipper of your dress, the cool midnight air spreading goosebumps on your back. You help him out by pulling your straps down, staying in your strapless bra.

“If I knew what was gonna happen tonight I would wear cuter underwear”, you mutter and Jaehyun chuckles. Why did your heart skip a beat at the sound? It’d be a lie to say you hadn’t found yourself staring at your best friend a minute too long in the past, but tonight- Tonight the effect he had on you held an intensity that you’ve never felt before.

“Underwear can only help you out so much. They can’t do wonders”

“Wow Jae, way to make me drier that the Sahara desert”

He dipped back down to your throat, sucking at the soft skin over your collarbones and earning an embarassingly high-pitched moan from you. You felt him smile against your neck as he licked over the nibbled flesh in little circles, wishing he would repeat that motion on another part of your body.

“We’ll see about that”

As if he wanted to prove his point, he grinds you over his erection, lighting your insides on fire. Your dress was short, meaning that you could feel all of him-and it seemed like a whole lot- over your panties that were damping up.

“Show me your tits and I’ll show you mine”

Jaehyun laughed at your comment; ridiculous yet successful at calming his ragged breath down. The buttons of his dress shirt opened one by one, each of them revealing another inch of his smooth chest. His skin was glowing, and his abs proved that puberty was starting to work its wonders on him.

You trace your fingers over two moles on his chest, leaving soft kisses over them. You could feel his pulse on your lips, fast and pumping blood all over his body. Despite his attempts at staying collected over the loss of his virginity, you realized that he was probably as nervous and scared as you are.

“Your turn”, he whispered, bringing you back into the moment. You reach back to unclasp your bra, freeing your boobs, and a smile cracked on your lips at Jaehyun’s reaction.

He stayed frozen and gawking at your chest, hands twitching and not knowing what to do with the sight you so generously offered him. Bringing his hands into your own, you place them over your mounds, guiding him into squeezing them. He continues on his own, pinching your nipples as he leans forward for another kiss, probably to hide his evident blush from you.

The making out continued, leaving you both with only your underpants on. He places you on your back, and starts petting your clit over your panties, the motion so soft it drove you insane. Hungry for more.

You started whining, grinding forwards against his fingers and he chuckled, pulling the fabric away to leave you uncovered. The chilly air was quickly exchanged with the feeling of his warm digits, causing a different kind of shivering.

When he inserted the first finger in you, you felt like your whole body was burning up with a high fever. You’d done this again, with your ex-boyfriend in summer camp but it definitely didn’t feel as sinful and delicious and pleasureable as this. It pulled at a knot in your stomach, begging to be untangled and Jaehyun was taking his sweet time with you. Quick circles on your swollen bud and a nibble on your neck, that’s what it took for him to enjoy you shaking through an orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful”

You looked angelic with the sweat trickling down your chest, skin glowing in the limelight and Jaehyun would just sit and stare if it wasn’t for the tent in his boxers that was screaming for attention. Pulling at the soft fabric, you sprung him free and the boldness that came when you did started to evaporate. It hit you in that moment, that he had seen all of you and now you saw all of him- yes you had been best friends for years but this intimacy was unprecedented. And you liked the feeling.

You put him in your grasp, moving your fist in a pivoting motion with his precum as your lubricant. He throws his head back with a grunt that almost made you cum a second time and urged you to pick up the pace. Unsure of what to do next, you licked your other palm and started to massage his balls hoping he liked it. He did by the sound of his moans, but stopped you abruptly, scaring you that you accidentally did something wrong in your inexperience.

“If you continue like this I’m gonna cum. Let’s do this“

You swallow on nothing and reach to your jacket on the floor for the condoms your mum gave you.

“Want a pink one? A green maybe? Blue?”, you joke and he pets your hair lovingly, looking down at you.

“Blue. Your favourite colour”

You smiled warmly at his response, satisfied with your decision to share this moment with your best friend. With someone who knew you so well.

Unwrapping the plastic, you placed the rubber over his hardness with shaking hands, following the instructions as best as you could. Jaehyun leaned down over you, planting a dozen kisses over your face as he positioned himself over your entrance.

“Ready?”

You nodded, giving him permission to dip his tip in, the first inches stretching you out nicely. The wetness caused by your orgasm helped your situation a lot, the slickness allowing him to dive a little deeper. Then, the stinging started, making you hiss and he kissed you immediately, trying to soothe you.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry. We have to go through the hard part now ok?”

The nickname playing over and over again in your head gave you the patience needed to endure him bottoming out, along with the first thrusts. It was uncomfortable, but the feeling of him inside you, of the two of you coming together as one, released some chemical in your brain that made most of the pain go away. He took his fingers from your hips to gently pat away the teardrops staining your cheeks.

“That’s it baby, you’re doing so well”

His words and the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls drew a moan out of your half open mouth, the sound carrying on the air you two shared and landing on Jaehyun’s lips. There was a tension on your belly and something told you it wasn’t just physical, more like an emotional revelation, a fire already ignited but flared up by this incident. Your feelings towards your childhood friend, a love that was more than platonic.

For you, at least.

Jaehyun was young and you felt so tight around him that he didn’t take long to finish. He pulled out last minute, taking the condom out and spilling spurts of his cum all over your stomach. It earned a scowl and an eyebrow raise from you but the way he apologized, saying you “looked too beautiful to resist”, was too cute to stay mad at.

You laid back on his bed, holding hands and trying to register what just happened. The ocassional car drove by, the lights illuminating Jaehyun’s eyes that you noted were glossy. Maybe it was just as intense for him, you thought and squeezed his hands a little tighter.

“Jae”, you whispered, gaining his attention, “We will still be best friends after this, right?”

He pulls you closer to him, making your face rest on his naked chest. He smelled like sweat and that intense body spray, like those days he came back from his basketball practice to meet you under the treehouse. He smelled like home.

“Forever”

Forever must have a different meaning in the Jungs’s dictionary, because after that night, Jaehyun was unreachable. You tried to text him, call him, only to be ignored and faced with stupid excuses.

You thought long and hard about why your best friend suddenly decided to ghost you. Maybe he didn’t like the sex. Understandable, since it was your first time, but it’s not like you promised him a night of mind blowing love making or anything. You decided that he probably felt too awkward to talk to you after that night and you told yourself to give him some space.

Three days passed, then another, then a week and still no sign of Jaehyun. Tired of the radio silence and irritated by his attitude, you got ready to visit him at his house, confront him one-on-one.

No, you didn’t wear your favourite perfume for him. It just so happened that you chose to put on that dress he had complimented you on before. You didn’t hope for him to call you beautiful again, or have a retake of the prom night fun. The butterflies in your stomach were probably the heavy lunch you ate. Yes, it was all coincidental.

You walked down the stairs with a pep in your step, storming through your parents in the kitchen.

“And were are you going so happy, young lady?”, your dad chirps and you smile at him.

“I’m gonna go see Jaehyun real quick!”

“Real quick? To a different country? He came back already?”

You stilled at the sound of your mother’s words, confused.

“A different country? I’m going down the street to the Jungs, mom”

“Honey, the Jungs are there but not Jaehyun. He moved abroad to study Business. Didn’t he tell you?”

The ground beneath your feet seemed to melt and pull you under the third level of hell. How could he get accepted to a university and not tell you? How could he move countries and not even say goodbye? How dare he make you fall in love with him, give you the best night of your life and then leave you hanging like that?

You ran upstairs to your room, wailing in what seemed like a mixture of rage and sadness. You felt so dumb, in your sundress and shaved pussy and cute underwear you chose out for him. It was all so, so unfair and the feeling ate you alive. The feeling that you hated Jung Jaehyun.

So now, when he stands from across the room, all suited up but with the additional rank of CEO on his shoulders you couldn’t believe that it was him.

Your portfolio did get you into an art school after all, majoring in product design. Your innovative work of rebranding the latest releases, taking on the aesthetic part of the marketing, landed you a great deal in J industries. The product was good and your skills were better, so when the sales went off the roof you weren’t surprised. What you didn’t expect however, was that the boss of your boss, who was currently staring at you from across the launch party, was your childhood best friend.

Ex-best friend.

“Damn, y/n, Mr. Jung hasn’t taken his eyes off of you all night, huh?”, said Sook, the assistant marketing director who was working by your side on the project.

“Well, he should have come over and congratulate me by now. I did help save his company”

She laughed lightly, unaware for how deeply rooted your dislike for the man really was. You continue your conversation when you suddenly see her turn visibly tense, sweeping her hands on the front of her dress. Oh, you should have watched what you wished for.

“M-Mr. Jung, how are you enjoying this party? This is y/n, she did most of the designs for the campaign-”

Eyes widening in shock, you get lost in some passerbys, meddling with the other coworkers in the gathering. Sook left a little yelp when she realized you had dissolved into thin air in seconds. You could still faintly hear her apologizing merrily.

“Oh I swear she was sitting right next to me Mr. Jung”

Chatting up with friends and even strangers, you made sure you never stayed in the same place for too long. Jaehyun’s eyes were still boring holes into your face no matter where you went, a smirk plastered on his own every time he caught you checking out for him.

In a last attemp to turn invisible, you find cover on a small couch, slightly hidden by some ballon decorations and you shoved a book to your face, faking interest. But alas, a dip in the furniture next to you and the familiar woody smell soon rang a bell of danger in your head.

“You know your book is upside down, right?”

Wincing at your fatal mistake, you turn around to be faced with a pair of brown eyes you thought you’d never see again. You noticed how they’re glowing in pride and ambition and remembered how they shined that night from tears, how you tried to read through him, just like now.

“Jung. Got bored of your little staring game?”

Jaehyun had grown an inch or two since you last saw him, you notice, standing even taller in his exemplary posture. He still stuck with his long hairstyle, locks styled back sleekly and exposing his defined cheekbones. His skin was even paler than usual, glowing in the dark room. Being a CEO probably meant staying inside a lot, making tanning for his complexion almost impossible.

“Considering you applied to my company, y/n, I figured you’d come to me now as well”

Why was he using that voice around you? You‘d made fun of him numerous times in the past for that deep tone, only coming up when he was trying to woo some girl.

“I didn’t know it was your dumb company”, you start, rolling your eyes in annoyance, “I’m surprised you even remember my name”

“How could I forget the girl I went to prom with?” And took my virginity, you wanted to add but knew he censored his words on purpose. “Also, Sook mentioned your name like, five minutes ago”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about”

His silence was uncomfortable, thickening the atmosphere even more. You saw regret and guilt in his features, lips struggling to find the right words and hands fumbling with his tie.

“I know you’re mad, rightfully so. But please, come over to my place for a drink. For old time’s sake”. The deep voice was persistent and that’s when you realized that Jaehyun wasn’t a teenager anymore. So many years had passed since that summer, enough to mature you both physically and emotionally, yet the wound stung still so freshly.

“You can’t just choose when to re-enter my life so easily”, you huffed and started to walk away from him, when you felt his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist.

“y/n, please. I’ve missed you. One drink, that’s it”

It was so annoying, you thought as you entered his condo, how his dimples were still so effective at convincing you. It was quite luxurious, definitely bigger than your apartment and by the looks of the fancy furniture, his hard work as CEO surely paid off.

“You like it?”

“Not as much as your treehouse but it’s okay”, you reply him and he grins at the reminiscence of your oldshenanigans as children.

“I’ll bring the wine”

You snooped around a bit more, examining the decorations of his living room. It was quite minimalistic, an abstract painting or two, a weird sculpture, no family pictures in sight. You always hated places like that, so lifeless, so impersonal. Jaehyun had too rich of a personality for that.

He sat on his leather couch, placing two glasses of white wine in front of him and motioning you to sit down as well. You took a seat as far away from his as possible and he winced at the distance you kept, now also turning physical.

Jaehyun started a conversation by asking you about your work at the company, then moving on to your personal life. You politely answered him, even joked about how single you are. He started recounting the start of his company, how he got the idea to begin from scratch and the hardships that came with it. As it was expected from the bachelor’s vibes his place emitted, CEO position didn’t allow for enough free time for him to meet someone new, let alone something serious. Your little meet up seemed to be going well. Too well to be exact. One glass down and you finally had enough of feigning‘happy old friends catching up’.

“Why did you bring me here Jaehyun? Really bring me here”

The man sighed at your tone, running his fingers through his hair and messing their gelled-up styling. Getting up from his position, he finishes up his second glass and sits closer to you, body facing yours.

“I guess... I owe you an apology. For back then. I should have told you I’m moving abroad”

“Yes, Jaehyun, you should have. Especially after what we did before you left”

He closed his eyes in shame, glossy after he reopened them. A serious expression darkened his features, looking as solemn as that last night you saw him before his disappearance and hanging from your lips. “Do you regret it? Going through with it?”

“No”, you answer immediately, because it was the truth. All the guys you’ve slept with in your time as an adult, though more experienced than high-school Jaehyun, were missing that one factor that none other than your best friend could offer you. Connection, vulnerability, care. True love.

He sighs, once again, clearly relieved by your answer but still speaking in a bittersweet tone.

“Good, I would really hate myself if you did. I was just, so scared you’d forget about me. I had to know you’d remember me. Then you said this whole thing about wanting to have our first time and-“. You knew it was the wine in his system that caused his rambling. Jaehyun wasn’t one to stumble on his words, definitely not sentimental like that. But alcohol seemed to bring you closer when in need and at the right time so you let it, once again, and you let him finish. “-and you looked so beautiful that I couldn’t help myself. If I knew you’d grow up to look like this I would have never-“

He stopped himself mid sentence, regretting sharing more. You, however, weren’t done with this conversation yet. There were so many years spent repenting your friendship, so many questions running through your head, and you weren’t leaving this room until they got answered.

“If you didn’t want me to forget you that much then why not tell me you got accepted to a university abroad? I was your best friend!”. Your words were emotionally charged, unwillingly making your voice turn up in volume. It was as if you turned back into the little girl crying in her bedroom, finally getting the chance to say all those things she was screaming in her pillow. “I would be so happy for you, I loved you”

“Yes you did! You literally said that every single day!”, Jaehyun yelled back, startling you, “And every single time it was as if you jabbed a knife in my chest! Did you know how much it killed me? To hear this from my best friend I’d been in love with for the past 10 years?”

“You- you were in love with me?”, you ask dumbly, voice light in disbelief, a stark difference from Jaehyun’s a second ago.

He settled his breathing, hands fixing his hair once again in abashment.

“I knew that if I told you I had to go abroad you would get all sad and start crying and I wouldn’t be able to see you like that. I knew that the moment you’d tell me you miss me I would drop everything to be with you. That night that we had sex.. I didn’t plan it but I thought it would be better for you if I made you hate me. And when I saw you again today- it felt like not one day had passed since high school. I didn’t know how to approach you, what to say. I’m sorry”

You sat there in shock, connecting the dots in your brain. All the feelings you were trying to repress around him, the lingering glances and butterflies in your stomach, were reqruited all along. You knew exactly what he meant earlier, about time seeming to freeze. The way he looked at you now, all teary eyed and red and shaking was utterly and overwhelmingly the warm Jaehyun that met you every night after school. And you wouldn’t let another day go to waste.

You lean forward, capturing his lips into a kiss long overdue. It was tentative and you started pulling back when he places both hands on the sides of your neck, keeping you from letting go. His fingertips grasp part of your hair and you lean your face sideways, melting into the kiss and his touch. A lick on his bottom lip and now your tongues were touching, groaning at how much better he got at this and wanting to put his skill to better use. Tugging on his soft locks, he moans and his baritone voice made the hairs on your arms stand on edge.

You moved your hands on his chest, palming the defined muscles and deciding you wanted to treat your eyes, ripping his shirt open in one move. Jaehyun grabs the meat of your thighs, hands gripping the edge of your dress and pulling it upwards until it falls over your head. He dipped into your neck immediately, sucking and nibbling passionately right in the middle, your moans sounding breathless with the pressure he puts on your throat. Trailing down, he left a path of open mouthed kisses, now focusing on the mounds of your breasts that your bra wasn’t covering. A flick of his wrist and the piece of underwear was gone, lips surrounding your nipple, releasing it with a loud pop.

You moan out his name and his growl’s animalistic, nails digging on the softness of your hips.

“Fuck I love that sound”

He probably made it a goal to hear it again as he started kissing on your inner thighs, the bruises he left behind teasing you to the point of begging. You lift you hips to discard the skimpy underwear you chose for tonight, Jaehyun’s breath fanning your clit. A few kitten licks and your back is already lifting from the leather, his hands intertwining with yours to keep you in place.

Practice makes perfect and Jaehyun must have had a lot of it, the interchanging of sucking, licking and spitting on your pussy making you lose your mind in the most delicious way. You were in the midst of murmuring a mix of praises when he finally finds that spot that has you trembling under his tongue. Riding out your high, you grind against his face, the pleasure not leaving any room for shame. Chest heaving and vision restored, you glance down at Jaehyun, looking as irresistible as ever wiping his wet lips and chin.

You were fully prepared and willing to return the favor so you motioned him to stand up, positioning the back of your neck over the hand rest of the couch. After opening your mouth wide he got the point, quickly ridding himself off his pants and boxer briefs, spitting profanities at how hot you looked for him right now.

You were upside down, but you could very well see Jaehyun’s hard and angry cock staring back at you. You always thought that maybe, since he was your first, you might have overestimated his size in your head. But your brain apparently hadn’t manipulated that memory in the slightest because that length and grith would definitely be a challenge for you. And hell, did you want to take it on.

He pushes through your lips, and your tongue is quick to engulf him. Licking up and down his shaft as best as you could, made Jaehyun grip the couch in an effort to keep his knees from buckling from pleasure. The position allowed him to push even deeper inside you, filling up your throat. He places his fingers over the bulge on your throat, watching it itently with every move of his hips.

Your eyes teared up and your throat started to burn but the sounds Jaehyun let out with every thrust made it all worth it. He finally pulls out, a string of saliva and precum landing on your lips and he is quick to to clean you up with his fingers. Collecting the wetness, he pushes his digits inside your mouth, and something changes in his glare, eyes darkening in the most lustful expression.

“I need you inside me”, you mumble with his fingers inside of you and he nods, asking if he should go get a condom. You search through the contains of your handbag, hands trembling with the way he is pushed up agaist you, erection digging in the softness of your ass as he’s nibling the skin on your shoulders.

You handed him the square foil and as soon as he takes it in his grasp, he pushed you down to the arm rest, back against the cushion and legs in the air.Moving your hand between your legs, you distracted him by playing with your pussy, speading the juices around and pushing your folds apart to direct him to your opening.

The first thrust felt divine, thick cock filling you nicely and making your head fall back in pleasure. Jaehyun threw your legs over his shoulders, eyes glued to yours as he kissed your calves, picking up his pace. The moans started rolling off your tongue, echoing inside the big lounge and accompanied by the skin slapping sound of your bodies.

“I missed your body so much”, he muttered as he gripped your waist, setting an incredible pace that had your feet flexing. You turned your head to the side, catching your reflection on the huge window leading to the balcony. Tits bouncing, Jaehyun’s flexed arms, his dick digging inside you. What a sight.

“See something you like?”, he chuckled darkly and you smiled up at him, grazing your nails over his biceps.

“Show me something to remember you by”

Jae halted his thrusts, turning you over to your stomach swiftly, ass in the air. He kneaded his hands over your ass, giving it a little spank and spread your cheeks apart. Placing his right knee on the arm rest, he dives inside you again, and the moan you let out barely sounded like you. His cock was so deep inside you that you had to close your eyes to relish the feeling of fullness, amplified by the light pain of the stretch. Jaehyun collected your hair in his fist, pulling your upper body against his chest as he wrapped an arm around your own.

“Open your eyes. See how nicely you take my cock. Think you’ll forget that?”, he growls in your ear, thumb digging in your cheek and palm slightly muting your sounds. The dirty talk, his cock grazing against the spot that drove you crazy and Jaehyun’s godly reflection pounding the shit out of you brought you over the edge again. He didn’t let you take any time off, hips continuing to bruise against you as feverly as before, and you thought you just might combust.

“Jaehyun, p-please, it’s too much”, you plead with as much power is left in your system, and he pulls out, only to start rubbing quick circles over your clit that had you thrashing in his arms.

You melt into his arms, a pressing feeling in your belly that you had never felt before and soon you climax for the third time, droplets of cum squirting out of your pussy and dripping onto the wooden flooring.

“This is so fucking hot”, Jaehyun mutters and starts thrusting inside you, trying to coax as much cum out of you as possible.

The waves keep coming, gushing out of you every time he pulls out, until he can’t take the sight anymore, coming with a shiver and a ragged breath.

You were sweaty and exhausted, smiling faintly as he showered you with kisses.

“Let’s get you cleaned up”

You try to stand up futilely, knees wobbling and unable to keep your balance. Jaehyun chuckles at the sight but helps you up like the gentleman he is, moving you to the floor’s bathroom.

You hop in and he joins you, letting the water run down your body and helping you soap up. It was very intimate but comfortable at the same time, his gentle caresses belonging to your skin. Everything felt right.

He was occupied with running his fingers over two hickeys he had planted on you earlier when you snap him out of his thoughts, voice barely audible over the running water.

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to lie to me to go study abroad. I think it’s pretty obvious after what we just did that I liked you too, but... I still would have let you move. Force you even.”

“You’re right. I’m sor-“

“I mean it Jaehyun. I’m so proud of you”

His eyes glimmered at your praise, wet eyelashes framing them and fluttering closed as he leaned down, pressing the sweetest kiss on your lips. It left you breathless, almost hurting when he pulled back. You could kiss him forever.

“I know you said I can’t just come back to your life like that but I want to try. I’ve seriously missed you”

“How about taking me to a date tomorrow night? To catch up some more”

He grinned brightly, eyes turning into crescent moons and dimples making your heart burst.

“Wherever you want”, he promised and took a step closer to you, hand snaking down your ass and pulling you against his wet body, “And speaking of making up for lost time... How about a round two?”

I am still very new to this website and I don’t know how link a post but this fic is based on a post by @sandersgrey

(If someone reading this knows how to link a post please either explain it to me or link it in the comments because that post is *amazing*)

“Hmmm,” said Tessa, depositing Mina into Kit’s waiting arms and examining her buzzing phone critically. She shot a quizzical look in his direction.

Jem looked up from his novel. “What is ‘hmmm’, my love?”

Kit mimed vomiting but stopped dead in his tracks when she replied, “it’s Astrid’s mother. You remember her from parent teacher night, don’t you, my darling?” Kit swears they were being extra insufferable just to mess with him but he didn’t have the time to be annoyed when Astrid’s. Mom. Was. Calling. Tessa.

To understand why Kit was panicking as much as he was, you must know that Astrid’s mom was incredibly chill. She never got mad. The worst punishment she’d ever given her daughter was taking away her iPod for a week so she couldn’t listen to Mitski.

Was she calling about last night when Astrid, Mari and Kit threw eggs at the Shadowhunter’s that were giving Mari’s pack a hard time for no reason? No, that couldn’t be it. She’d given them the eggs.

Could the call be about the day before yesterday when Kit and Astrid got distracted doing homework and ended up snapping the coffee table clean in half while battling gladiator style with pool noodles? No, that wasn’t it. She’d just handed Astrid a twenty and told them to go to Kevin’s parents' shop and get a new one. Was she pissed because they ended up spending the money on ice cream instead? No, they ended up finding a table for free in the rubbing bin outside a fancy hotel.

Kit clutched his sister to his chest and prepared for the worst.

“Seo-yoon! What can I do for- Oh, hello Astrid!” Tessa paused briefly, presumably to listen to Astrid speak, and Kit sighed in relief.

“Kit is occupied at the moment but I can relay the message.” Another pause. “Oh don’t be frightened of me. I’m a tots rad mom. Your secret is safe with me.” Kit felt his face flush red as he heard his best friend’s laughter echo across the living room. “Okay! I’ll let him know. He has to get Mina to sleep before he can leave though. Lord knows he’s the only one who can these days.” Tessa chuckled at something Astrid said before wishing her good luck in her endeavour and ending the call.

She turned her attention back to Kit. “Astrid needs your help breaking into your teacher’s home to retrieve her cell phone.”

Kit blinked at her, dumbfounded. “You aren’t mad I’m going to go break the law?”

Because of course he was doing it. Astrid’s dad had bought it for her and he was extremely cautious about money. That was one of three things Kit knew about her dad. He was cheap, he lived in America and he loved the movie Fight Club.

Tessa ruffled Kit’s hair affectionately. “Please. I’ve raised two other Herondales. At least I know about this particular adventure beforehand.”

Mina began snoring softly and Kit handed her back to her mother. He grabbed his bag and started his journey to the door when Tessa added, “she also told me to say hi to a ‘daddy Kit’. Are you ‘daddy Kit?’”

‘Daddy Kit’ closed his eyes and wished for the sweet release of death.

“Why is Kit a daddy,” Jem asked, genuinely confused. “Aren’t I the daddy?”

Kit swung the door open so fast not even a speed rune could have aided him. But not before I heard Tessa reply, “Lily Chen certainly thinks so.”

Mrs. MacNamara clapped her hands together. “Why don’t we all go around and say a few things about ourselves?”

Kit buried his face into his hands. He’d been relieved when no other teacher had fulfilled the Disney channel stereotype of making every student introduce themselves to the new kid. But Mrs. MacNamara didn’t even seem to realize what she was doing.

All Kit’s fellow classmates groan. Expect one. Her hand shot up immediately. She was short, like smaller than Clary short. She wore a baggy pink shirt with the words ‘Queen Glimmer of Etheria’ sewed on with purple sequins and tight black jeans. Her colourful, choppy hair was in a low ponytail and she flew a few strands out of her eyes as her hand wiggled in the hair.

Mrs. MacNamara pointed at her. She stood up and smiled at Kit. “Hi. My name is Astrid. My hobbies include making my little cousin’s girl Barbies kiss, as it should be, and watching television shows where everyone is a terrible person so you can love all of them!”

“And what shows might that be?” asked Kit, already in the process of pulling out his phone and opening the Notes app.

“Grey’s Anatomy, Glee, Grey’s Anatomy again because it’s seventeen seasons as of right now. And to be fair it practically became a different show when they killed off Mark Sloan.”

“That’s enough, Miss Yang,” said Mrs. MacNamara. Astrid sat down and winked at Kit. Then she took out her phone and airdropped him a complete list of all her favorite shows, along with her number.

After Blessica’s pre-birthday birthday party, they went to Cirenworth and stayed up till four A.M. binging them.

They met outside a queer dry bar called Aries Not Welcome, the unspoken gathering place of the Merry Hoes. It was run by a poly lesbian couple in their mid-thirties. Quinn, Sydney and Aliyah may not have served alcohol but at least they were open 24/7.

“Did you bring the shit?”

Kit gave her a look. “The shit? How conclusive.”

“Shut up. You know, the shadowhunter thing.”

“The shadowhunter thing?”

“The, the, the glow stick that you draw with.”

“The glow stick that I draw wi-“ Kit closed his eyes briefly. “Do you mean a stele?”

Astrid snapped her fingers. “That’s it!” Kit shook his head in exasperation, smiling fondly. “I borrowed a torch from Quinn, let’s move.”

“Should I be worried that you know where Mr. Smith lives?” questioned Kit as he followed Astrid’s lead through the park.

“Should I be worried that your mom was fine with us breaking and entering?” she shot back playfully. Kit pushed Astrid and she fell off the path, laughing all the way.

“You called me ‘daddy’ to my mom’s face.”

She just laughed harder, slinging her arm around Kit’s shoulder. “It was over the phone, Christopher. And as I should.”

“Pffffttt. Why did you get your phone taken anyway?” She put her hands into her jumper pocket and looked at the ground. “Astrid.” She remained silent. “Astrid?”

She mumbled something under her breath. “What?” asked Kit.

“I WAS READING NINEJ FANFICTION!” she shouted.

Kit gasped. “I thought you were a die hard Kanej shipper,” he whispered.

“I’m a multishipper, okay?!” she replied, equally quiet.

“Does Blessica know?”

She shook her head. “And she will never find out.”

Kit saw the opportunity and he seized it. “She’ll never find out as long as you never call me daddy in front of either of my parents.”

She removed her arm from his shoulder and guided them out of the park, in the direction of the many apartments that lined this side of town. “I hate you.”

“Well, so does Mari. You're not special, Ast.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know Mari doesn’t actually hate you, right?! They’re just still in the enemy phase of your enemies-to-lovers romance. She only dislikes you because they feel something for you but they don’t know what so she interrupts it as loathing. In reality, her inner soul knows you’re hot and shmexie.”

Kit didn’t know how to process this so he just nodded and follow Astrid in silence to Mr. Smith’s house. (Plus, he was kinda glad that, according to his best friend, he had a little more time for Mari to ‘discover their true feelings’. If Kit screwed this up, he was out of countries to run off to.)

“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What,” asked Kit, turning around to face Astrid and closing the drawer he was rifling through. “Did you find your phone?”

“Yeah. But I also found Blessica’s. She was Snapping Kevin. Platonic my ass. But he took the fucking trans flag out of her phone!”

Kit snatched Blessica’s phone out of her hand to examine it for herself. She was telling the truth. Where the glitter pride flag usually rested was just a clear purple case. Kit couldn’t believe his eyes.

“It’s one thing to misgender her every day.” Blessica had forced all four of the other Merry Hoes to sign a contract saying they wouldn’t do anything to harm him because of it. “But this is the last straw. You know what we have to do.” Oops.

“Yeah, but we don’t have any spray paint.”

Kit eyed Mr. Smith’s pink sofa, blue bar stool covers and white picture frames. “I think I have something better in mind.”

It would have been easier for both parties to just zip off the sofa cushions and tape them to the wall but by ripping them off in strips, they ensured he would have to buy new ones. And judging by the car he drove and the fiji water in his fridge, Mr. Smith could definitely afford it.

That reminded him, “I’ll finish up with this. Go put all his fiji water into my bag.” Astrid saluted him and ran off. “Wait.” She stopped and looked at him. “Steal all the remotes you can find.”

“How is he not awake?,” asked Astrid as they ripped the fabric of his seating from the stool.

He shrugged. “Don’t question it.” He shoved the bundle of cloth into her arms. “Glue this above the pink. I’ll handle the frames.”

“Say the magic word,” she sang.

“Please?”

“No. Lesbian. Come on, I thought you knew me better than that.”

Kit laughed quietly. “Can you lesbian glue this above the pink?”

She grinned at Kit. “It would be my pleasure.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Hello! Sorry I haven’t written anything in so long. School just restarted and it has been…a lot.

@adoravel-fenomeno @thechangeling @the-blackdale @the-wckd-powers @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @im-not-ruined-im-ruination @ithurielkeepsgettingkidnapped @noah-herondale-lightwood @arangiajoan @shelvesofgold @maxboythedog @book-dragon-not-worm @hardlymatters

Very sorry if I forgot anyone. Lmk if you want to be addEd/removEd from the tag list.

puppybowl sunday

summary: you spend the day cuddled up watching the puppy bowl

pairing: john b x reader x jj

word count: 1654

a/n: i got inspiration watching the puppy bowl so... here we are lol also when tf is season 2 coming i want more motivation to write and shit please anyways enjoy (also this could technically belong to the “you against the world” universe but also... idk where it would fit lmao so if you want to imagine it like that have at it)

Masterlist

john b groaned as something woke him up. he had been deep in sleep, something he appreciated considering how many late night grocery or food runs he had to do for the residents of figure eight, when he felt someone shift as they laughed. he blearily opened his eyes to see you, sitting up with your back against his headboard and one of his arms flung across your waist, frozen with your hand clapped over your mouth. obviously you hadn't been meaning to laugh that hard.

"what are you doin' up so early?" he rasped, his voice kinda scratchy from sleep.

you smiled down at him and ran a hand through his thick hair, giggling when your fingers got all tangled up in it. "hon, it's two in the afternoon."

he lifted his head real quick and pouted when he saw that jj wasn't included in the cuddle pile. "shit, did i miss jj going off to work?"

"mhm. don't worry, though, i got some food into him and made sure he was wearing his mask. also put the fear of god into him if he didn't wash his hands throughout the day."

john b breathed out a laugh as he imagined you yelling at jj to stay safe at work. almost a year into the pandemic, and jj and john b had spent the whole time quaranting in the chateau to the best of their ability. it had been months since they had seen kie or pope in person for longer than a few minutes, and usually that was only when john b pulled up to the wreck to pick up delivery orders or when jj and john b helped pope's dad with grocery deliveries. at the beginning of everything, you had been spending quarantine with your boys since school was all online and your parents' restaurant was closed. a month or so in, however, regulations had been lifted and the people of figure eight all but demanded for them to reopen, and so you went back home to help your parents with the restaurant and to keep jj and john b safe from anything you could have possibly brought back to them.

you had practically locked them in the chateau, leaving them threatening voicemails if they even thought about going out, but as two months turned into three turned into four turned into five, you realized that the boys needed their jobs as there seemed no end in sight to the pandemic. so jj returned to his job at the country club, and john b got a job busing tables at your family's restaurant. you moved back in to quarantine with them as school started, and you spent practically your whole savings on getting a backup generator and high speed wifi for the chateau so if anything happened, you all would be good. and, despite living through a worldwide panda express, you were quite happy.

beside you, john b shifted his head to rest on your lap so he could see what you were watching on your laptop that had you laughing so hard. a smile grew on his face when he saw the puppies running around on the "football field" and jumping all over the "ref." he looked up at you and felt his chest blossom with warmth at the way you smiled at the puppies and giggled when they flopped over.

"did you really wake me up watching the puppy bowl?"

"hush up," you laughed, "it's a tradition, and you know it. 'sides, you can't tell me you aren't enjoying this as much as i am. i've seen how you and jj get with dogs. y'all may love them more than you love me."

"aw, honey, that's not true," john b cooed. "you know how much we love you. obviously i love you more since i didn't go to work during the puppy bowl, but you know, that's to be expected."

you shook your head and lightly swatted at his stomach. you knew he wasn't being serious. john b loved jj just as much as he loved you, and the feeling was mutual from jj. the three of you had a good thing going, a relationship full of understanding and compassion, and it had taken y'all a long time to get there. you all had things to work through, like jj's daddy issues, john b's abandonment issues, and your trauma from your previous relationship with rafe cameron, but you had gotten through it together, and this quarantine had actually brought y’all closer together which had surprised everyone.

“jj’s gonna be sad that he missed it,” you sighed.

“we’ll just rewatch it with him,” john b assured you. “and we can watch the old ones too.”

there was shuffling as the both of you wriggled around to get into a more comfortable position. at one point the two of you had to lunge to catch the laptop from falling to the floor, but eventually you settled in with john b curled around you and the blankets and pillows providing a sort of nest and elevated stand for the laptop. the room was filled with the soft sounds of puppy barks and whines, and your giggles when one of the dogs did something particularly cute, and john b let out a quiet sigh as he allowed himself to relax against you.

“i think we should get a dog,” you mumbled sleepily as john b clicked on last year’s broadcast. “we can add another cutie to our cuddle pile.”

there was some incoherent whining on your part before you dozed off in his arms. he did his best to focus on the puppies on the screen, but soon he too fell asleep with his face buried in the crook of your neck. that was how jj found you two when he stumbled into the room later that night as he yanked his tie from his neck. he stilled in the doorway, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he saw the two people he loved most in the world all snuggled up together. and then he saw what was pulled up on the laptop.

“oh you assholes!”

the both of you jolted awake, your hand smacking john b in the face as you moved to make sure the laptop wouldn’t fall off the bed. john b rubbed at his eyes and turned to blink up at jj.

“hey, how was work, babe?”

jj shook his head as you rolled over and made grabby hands, obviously asking for cuddles. he put his hands on his hips and frowned down at the pair of you.

“i cannot believe y’all are watching the puppy bowl without me.”

“um... in my defense,” john b started, “they were already watching when i woke up.”

“dude!” you turned your head to scowl at your boyfriend. “jj, baby, come cuddle with us, and we can turn it back on.”

as he kicked his shoes off and rifled around the dresser for comfy clothes, jj shook his head. john b let out a laugh when he realized what he was getting at.

“no can do, babe,” jj told you, smirking at john b as he let his work shirt slide off his shoulders. “the superbowl starts soon, and we’re watching it.”

you fell back on the bed and let out a loud groan. you had been hoping the boys would be too tired to watch the football game. you lifted yourself up on your elbows and glared at the two of them.

“i am legitimately only watching your stupid sportsball for the weeknd. after that i will be passing the fuck out.”

jj laughed and wrapped his arms around you as he flopped down between you and john b. you couldn’t keep your glare on your face when you felt your cheek hit his bare chest. you had missed him all day. there were a few laughs and giggled--and a couples groans of pain--as the three of you got all comfortable on the queen sized bed. finally you and john b sandwiched jj, john b spooning the blonde boy as you nestled in within the warmth of jj’s arms.

“don’t he kiss his kid on the mouth?” you mumbled as one of the players ran out on the field.

a wheeze left jj’s chest as john b shouted his laugh out, causing you to smirk. you had absolutely no clue as to what was happening in the game, or even had any idea as to who the teams were, because like you told the boys, you were only watching for the weeknd concert, and you were getting more and more anxious waiting for it.

“wait, i thought both teams were supposed to be good. why does one team already have like three touchdowns and the other doesn’t have any?”

“honey,” john b said, attempting to hold in his laugh, “just watch and enjoy the game.”

you rolled your eyes, making jj smile fondly. “hon, how am i supposed to enjoy a game i don’t even understand?”

“do you want us to explain?” jj offered sweetly.

“absolutely not. i appreciate it, baby, but i’m too pretty for that.”

jj snickered and pressed a kiss into your hair. “of course you are, babe.”

you nuzzled your nose against his collarbone and tugged your hand from between the boys to gently scratch at john b’s scalp. a hum rumbled deep within the brunette’s chest at the action.

“i love y’all,” you whispered into jj’s skin. “even if y’all make me watch football.”

“well we love you too,” jj returned with a kiss to your cheek and john b’s arm.

“even if you make us watch the weeknd,” john b teased.

“hey! you better appreciate abel or i swear i’m moving out!”

taglist (ahaha heyyy it’s been a while so tell me if y’all want to be removed): @damndunner​ @scandalousfemale @shawnssongs​ @kikifromtheblock​ @write-from-the-heart​ @kurtsconner​ @thatjohnd​ @abbiesthings​ @heavenlymama​ @strangerthanfiction713 @alexis-marrt022 @brithedemonspawn​ @obxsummer​