Warnings: DDLG dynamics, age play, references to sexting if you squint, Daddy kink but no explicit sexual content
A/N: Week 4 (albeit a little late) of my D20 Writing Event, found here! Sorry if this is a hot mess.
Then:
“Do you have a reservation, miss?” The maître d gave you a cursory glance, obviously doubtful. In your skirt and collared shirt, you looked very cute, but a little out of place in such an upscale venue.
You glanced around, trying to peer into the depths of the restaurant, but it was all very private. “I’m, um, supposed to be meeting a date here, but I’ve only seen a photo,” you admitted. “I don’t have a name.”
Suppressing a sigh, they didn’t meet your eyes, “What do they look like? We have a few singles in there at the moment.”
You pulled up the photo your friend had sent you on your phone, showing them the screen. The man pictured had soft brown eyes framed by lashes most girls would kill for and immaculately styled brown hair.
It almost looked like the host paled slightly, “Of course madam, right this way.”
You hastily tucked your phone back in your bag and followed them back to a private room, where the man from the photo was seated at a lavishly decorated table. Candles flickered inside shiny silver votives, the flames making the tableware gleam.
He rose, moving forward to meet you as the host bowed their way out of the room. Capturing your hand, he brushed his lips over your knuckles, “There you are, katzchen, I was growing worried.” He pulled your chair out for you, “Come, sit. I’ve ordered already, I hope that is alright with you.”
You nodded, cheeks warm under his attention, “Thank you. I’m sorry I’m late.” You bit your lip as you contemplated explaining.
“Did something keep you?”
You felt your cheeks warm under his intent gaze, “I, um, thought I might be in the wrong place.” Glancing at your outfit, you added, “Sorry if I’m a little underdressed.”
“Nonsense, you look lovely,” he waved the idea away. “And my apologies, I presumed Mr. Wilson would relay the type of venue to you as well.”
“Sam insisted on being mysterious about it. He wouldn’t even give me your name.”
His eyes widened a bit, “Then I find myself caught with poor manners. My name is Helmut Zemo.” He chuckled, “I’m afraid I had a slight advantage, as I know your name already. Thought I must say, katzchen suits you much better.”
“What does it mean?” You couldn’t place his accent.
“It is Sokovian; it means kitten.” He laughed aloud at your stammered attempts at a response, “If you don’t like it, you must forgive me, Mr. Wilson informed me that you were looking for-”
“No, I do like it,” you murmured.
You were saved further embarrassment by the arrival of dinner. It was some kind of pasta dish in a white sauce. Breathing a sigh of relief, you took a sip of your wine.
“Did Sam tell you about my allergy too?” you asked shyly.
He smiled, “I asked him a great deal of questions.” He sipped his wine, “I was eager to learn about you.”
You offered a coy smile, “Why?”
He raised an eyebrow, “Why wouldn’t I be interested in a pretty thing like you?”
“I know my preferences are,” you paused, “Odd to some people.”
“Not to someone on the other side, katzchen. So, why don’t we bypass the unnecessary shame and you call me what you’ve been wanting to, hm?” Your cheeks grew warm again and he tsked when you didn’t respond, “Come now, little one, let’s not be coy.”
Before you could think better of it, the words had left your lips, “Sorry Daddy.”
A smug grin spread over his lips and he took a sip of his wine, “There’s my sweet girl.”
You were embarrassed by his praise, as nice as it was to hear. You’d been ridiculed for being a little so many times that it felt like a cruel joke to get your hopes up. You cast your gaze down at your plate and took a bite of your food.
“Darling, you’ve nothing to be shy about. We have privacy here, I’ve made sure of it.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve just never been able to- well,” you bit your lip, avoiding his gaze.
“Look at me, katzchen.” Reluctantly, you met his eyes again. “Your days of being afraid and ashamed are behind you. I’ve struggled to find someone to care for since my family perished in Sokovia, but I find you adorable and sweet.” He tilted his head slightly, “I’d like that someone to be you, if you are willing to trust me.” You were afraid, but he seemed earnest; you wanted to trust him. “I know you’ve suffered cruelty in the past, but I can keep you safe from all of that, kleine.”
Finally, you offered a small nod of your head and he smiled.
Now:
“Daddy! Are you home?” You trotted down the hallway, unsure if it was the front door or the kitchen staff.
“In my study,” Helmut’s voice floated out of his home office.
Heart skipping, you hurried to his study, pausing in the doorway as he put things away. You squealed, “You’re home early!” You rushed in and hugged him.
He chuckled, “Darling, you know the rules. Where are we?”
You slunk backwards, hands clasped behind your back, “Your office.”
“And what’s the rule for my office?”
“No running or yelling,” you murmured.
“What was that?”
You repeated louder, “No running or yelling.” He hummed and you added, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
He smiled slightly, “You are forgiven. Now come, greet me properly.”
You crossed the floor slowly this time, coming to a halt in front of him before raising your eyes, “Welcome home, Daddy.”
He smirked, “There’s my sweet girl.” He cupped your chin and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “Did you miss me?” Nodding, you leaned in for another kiss, but he held you back with a chuckle, “Should I take that as a yes?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Come now, katzchen. You aren’t in trouble.” He brushed his thumb over your cheek, “Talk to me.”
You leaned into his touch, “I did miss you. And I’m happy you’re back early. Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine,” he chuckled. “I only thought that my katzchen could use some extra attention today, based on all the photos you sent me this morning.”
Your cheeks grew warm, “I’m sorry if I bothered you, Daddy.”
He brushed his nose over yours, “You could never.” He took a seat in his desk chair, tugging you down into his lap, “What would you like to do with the rest of the day?”
“Would you read to me?”
“Is that all?”
You bit your lip, “And can we order in for dinner?”
