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How much trouble would you get into for hurting a civilian? Especially someone like this prick.
“-yea, so much of our funding goes to hunters now. Like why do I have to waste my funds on those incompetent leeches? They say they protect us, but those Wanderers keep coming back. They’re more cut out for ‘hunting’ our wallets instead.” Then he guffaws, putting a “harmless” arm around your shoulder that- for the second time- has squeezed your arm. But unlike the first time, he slowly sweeps it down, brushing your waist for a moment before it drops at his side.
Hold back, don’t start a scene, this is an important event for Zayne-
Unlike the previous banquet you’ve been to, this one had a lot of fundraising foundations with potential donors and connections for the hospital. He and the colleagues you’ve met as his plus-one last time were immediately approached by other guests when you two arrived. There were too many introductions to be made, so you decided to skip yours, quickly sending him a reassuring smile before you graciously stepped out of the way, exploring what the venue had to offer. You didn’t expect this type of interaction at a place like this, and while you now have some regrets over not staying with Zayne, you still believed the importance of this event wasn’t worth causing a scene over.
You try not to wince as he opens his mouth again. Is it bad that you also forgot his name immediately after his introduction? He barely said his name and title before he started blabbing.
“Can I grab a drink for you? There’s a fine assortment of wine available.”
“Umm, no thank you. I don’t hold my alcohol really well.” You don’t want to repeat what happened at the last banquet, even though it was nice having Zayne take care of you.
The man’s smile ticks a bit at the rejection, but he pushes forward. “Alright, fine. I’m just going to get to the point then. You’re cute, are you affiliated with anyone here?”
You freeze in shock and annoyance. He never asked for your name or what you do, insulting your job or talking about himself. But when he finally addresses you, he only cares about who you came with? Since the beginning, you could tell he was flirting but by now you would’ve expected him to take the hint. You scramble for a response; how do you accept the compliment but still reject him graciously without bringing Zayne into this?
He takes your silence as acquiescence, rather than what it is- shock, panic, and confusion. His hand trails up to rub your earlobe and down your neck, sending your brain spiraling.
Forget a response, how do you get out of this? Do something, don’t just stand there!
Legs! Anything! Move!
The man’s fingertips glance over your shoulder, giving it another squeeze and then ghosts down your back. The squeeze breaks you free from your frozen state. Right before his hand comes to rest against your ass, you take a step back. “N-no thank you, I’m not interested.”
The man’s dark eyes linger on your face and his expression changes as it shifts to the side. Not wanting to chance upsetting him, you take another quick step back, almost tripping over your heels… right into another person. You’re about to apologize when a strong hand grips your hip.
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, realizing who caught you.
“Mr. Franklin,” Zayne says, and you can hear the controlled, cold tone,” I see you’ve met my girlfriend.” The way he subtly emphasized “girlfriend” conveyed the message. She’s mine. Back off.
Your heart fills with relief and warmth at being saved and the assertive introduction. You already see how Mr. Franklin’s eyes shift between you two uncomfortably. He awkwardly coughs, “Ah, so she’s your girlfriend.” Now it’s his turn to step back as he harrumphs, “Well, she should’ve just said so.” He rudely walks away, but he did a bad job hiding how he almost tripped over his feet in his hurry.
You let out another sigh, still feeling slightly unsettled. But then you realize you can’t fully relax yet because Zayne moves as if he was going to go after Franklin. You grab his arm to reassure him, but you hold back a gasp at the frost forming in his hand.
“Zayne,” you plead. His gaze turns to you and you see his hard gaze and clenched jaw. You know his anger isn’t directed toward you, but you rarely see him upset, so you weren’t sure how to calm him.
“Nothing happened. I managed to stop him from going further, and I’m safe.” You try changing the subject, failing at subtlety,” How was speaking with the other guests?“
His eyebrows furrow, and your worry increases. You’re about to reassure him again, but he pulls you into a hug, pressing his cheek against the top of your head. You feel his grip tighten as he takes a breath, but then he loosens his grip. “It was fine. The others can handle the rest. Let’s head back now.”
You can only nod as he holds your hand, seeing him nod in acknowledgement to a few he’s spoken with. Despite his blank expression, you could see the guests falter from approaching him and prodding on his early departure, probably noting the cold undertone Zayne was giving off. You give them all polite smiles, inwardly cringing and trying not to overthink what their impressions may be.
He opens the door for you and starts driving home. You glance over at his hands tightly gripping the wheel and you try to stop yourself from fidgeting.
“I’m not upset with you,” he suddenly says, breaking the silence.
You softly respond, “I know.” The rest of the drive is silent, but the thoughts are loud.
———————-
I shouldn’t have let that shithead go.
Zayne’s ability to stay calm, composed, and controlled was well observed by many. The profession called for it, and handling conflict was generally better with a peace of mind.
But this. This was uncalled for.
The sight of you with that idiot, touching you and making you uncomfortable, burned through him. He almost went after him with his Evol before you stopped him, but he couldn’t stop replaying letting him walk away without a proper apology. It frustrated him to no end that they left, that he did nothing.
He held back when he saw how worried you were, and tried to comfort you and calm himself by hugging you. But when he took a breath, he smelled a whiff of that man’s cologne and couldn’t hold back another rush of anger. But this wasn’t about his feelings, the priority was to take you home and take care of you after that disgusting encounter.
Even throughout the car ride, the unpleasant feelings remained. Anger. Guilt. Regret.
Unbeknownst to his feelings, your own thoughts spiral. How do I fix this? Make him feel better?
You stiffen, not realizing you’ve already arrived at Zayne’s. It was still silent even when you made it to his bedroom, seeing him loosen his tie. He turns and meets your gaze, watching you approach him.
The silence and the blankness of his gaze scare you. Yes, he usually looks cold, but his eyes, the rare smiles, everything that expresses his affection for you were what you were used to.
You reach out to cup his cheek, but his name doesn’t even leave your mouth before he grabs your wrist, pushing you on the bed and roughly claiming your lips. The suddenness of it makes you gasp, and his tongue sweeps against your lips, forcefully parting them.
Your relationship with him was still relatively new, so you two were taking it slow, with gentle kisses and hand holding. You’ve already done it a couple of times but it all came down to how Zayne usually was: considerate and gentle. You’re not exactly against this development, but not like this.
The kiss was turning frenzied, consuming you. You groan, delving your hand into his hair. You break away to pant, “Zayne, slow down. Let’s talk about th-“
He cuts you off again bruisingly. He kisses as if he couldn’t get enough, and while kissing him is always intoxicating, there is still some worry in the back of your mind.
You start pulling at his hair, wanting to snap Zayne out of it, but you hear the growl before he sucks your tongue. You can’t hold back a whimper, but with great will, you turn your face away, taking deep breaths. You raise your hands to block his face, but he leans forward to trail a path down your neck instead.
His name falls on deaf ears, too caught up in marking you.
He needs you, to make sure you’re here. To make sure, to remind, you’re his.
The unpleasant scene and feelings intrude his mind again and he bites harder than intended. Your cry of pain is followed by a harder yank of his hair, making Zayne stiffen and pull away.
He looks down at you, skipping over the hickeys and bruised lips, zoning onto the bite mark and the teary gaze. He feels and hears his shortening breaths and whispers, “I- I’m sorry.”
You watch him ready to get off you, but you quickly grab his face and press it against your chest. You feel him stiffen in protest, but he quickly relaxes when he feels you card your fingers through his hair again. You two fall silent and breathe together, quietly soothing each other.
After a few minutes, you cup his cheeks and bring them up to meet your gaze, but he quickly looks away. You stifle a teasing smile, using your strength to flip your positions. You straddle him, cupping his cheeks again. You gently say, “Look at me.”
He meets your gaze and lets out a defeated sigh as he leans into your hand. You patiently wait for him to speak, brushing your thumb against his cheek in encouragement.
“…I should’ve never left you alone.”
“No, I walked away because I wanted you to meet people.”
He shook his head. “I let myself relax because you did well at the banquet. I should’ve had you by my side. I could’ve checked in or asked one of the others to stay with you.”
“I was fine at first, expecting it to be like the banquet, too. But I guess I could’ve also handled him in a better way.”
His head shoots up, surprising you with the anger you see, the glare in his eyes and the restraint in his clenched jaw. “Don’t ever blame yourself for his actions.”
You fall silent, biting your lip as you think over your response. You tentatively reach for his hand and he doesn’t hesitate to link your fingers together.
“Well, I didn't mean to sound like I was blaming myself but….I hated it. Feeling weak and questioning my inability to take action. I’m a hunter and can battle Wanderers, but for some reason I couldn’t move to protect myself against him.” You took a breath,” At first, I was worried about causing a scene and making you look bad-“ Zayne tightens his hold on your hand but doesn’t interrupt “-but I knew that I could’ve stepped away. It’s just that when I finally decided to, I couldn’t move.”
Zayne brings your hand to his lips and replies,” Sometimes there’s a fight or flight response, but other times you can be overwhelmed enough that there’s a freeze response. Some studies have said when there’s no perceived way out, that stress can lead to that, like worrying about exciting an aggravator if you move. Regardless, your silence was not consent.”
He presses his forehead against your shoulder, hiding his expression from view.
“You still seem upset.”
He huffs out a small, scornful laugh. “With him and that situation, yes. But also myself. I couldn’t stop replaying what happened- how he touched you, and then how I acted. This was the first time that happened to you and these… unpleasant feelings just overwhelmed me. I wanted to erase his touch and the memory for both of us, and I hurt you in the process.
You slide a hand down his back, smiling at his failure to suppress a shiver. “Hmm, I don’t know,” you tease. “I think I kinda liked you being all possessive and jealous. The kiss was hot, too. But maybe don’t bite too hard next time.”
He looks up with a little glare and is about to reply, but you interrupt him, pecking his lips. “I already feel better. Why don’t you stop blaming yourself and tell me what you need,” you gently ask.
He seems to hesitate. What does he need?
He leans in to press a kiss against the harsh bite mark, hearing your breath hitch. Zayne closes his eyes. He wants to focus on your sounds, on feeling you. To hear you panting out his name and your sweet moans. To feel your warmth. To make you his and to erase that bastard’s touch.
He just needs.
You can sense his thoughts, “Take what you need. Show me I’m yours.”
His restraint finally snaps and he crashes your mouths together, licking past your lips and tangling your tongues together. You whimper and clutch at his shoulders, trying to press closer only to find your dress in the way.
Zayne growls, changing your positions so you’re lying under him again. He’s so impatient to touch you that he isn’t even properly undressing you, just mouthing at every area he exposes. It’s gentle one moment with light pecks then ravenous at another, biting, sucking, licking. To tease you for earlier he bites your shoulder a bit rougher, reveling in the squeak you emit before he soothes it with licks again to hear you moan.
He pulls off your panties in one smooth motion, throwing your dress over his shoulder next.
His lips continue to trail down your body, his mind in a haze trying to follow a hazardous pattern- lick, suck, bite. It’s like he can’t make up his mind on how to consume you, battling between patience and impulse.
But you note the closer he gets to your legs the messier the kisses are. He palms the back of your legs, voice low, “Open.” A command.
You shiver and feel your face flush as he lowers himself, his face now between your legs. Your breath hitches and you card your fingers through his hair again as Zayne presses butterfly kisses along your inner thighs. He could feel his control waning, trying to hold himself back from just shoving his head into your pussy.
Zayne snakes his arms around your hips to hold you in place. He can feel your thighs trembling as he runs his mouth along each thigh again, leaving a trail of wet kisses. You struggle not to move, but you can’t help but moan when you feel him lather at the wetness that’s leaked between the crevices of your hips.
You feel the path pause, peering down to see why. He was staring at your wet center, taking it in like he was doing a physical examination. Your face flushes, “Y-you’re staring too much.” You try to close your legs, but one of his hands grabs your thighs as he growls, “Don’t. This is for me.” Then he gives in, burying his face between your thighs.
He runs his tongue up and down your sex, groaning at the taste. The vibrations send you quivering, your hand in his hair tightening and making him groan again. He unwraps his arm around your hips to hitch both your legs over his shoulders.
Oh.
Having your center closer made everything on the brink of too much. Your face couldn’t be any more flushed as you hear the noises of your pleasure, zoning in on every suck and lick. His grip doesn’t let you move an inch, his mouth firmly attached to you. You cry out when he sucks your clit, and he moans in response. This was his first time going down on you, but he was a quick study and found himself enjoying this. He wanted to pleasure you endlessly.
His tongue lathes at your clit again before plunging into your hole. He grinds down on the bed when he feels it clench on his tongue. Getting impatient, he removes his tongue to lick at your clit, pressing into your hole with a finger. He’s quick to find the soft spot, focusing on that. The pleasure in both areas makes you buck against his face, pulling his hair a little too hard.
“Fuck,” he moaned into your sex, sucking at your clit roughly. And that does it. Emboldened by the curse and moans, you work frantically against his mouth. Everything dissolves into a pleasured haze and your body shakes as your orgasm crashes into you. He laps it up eagerly, not stopping until you start to twitch away.
He pulls away with a wet noise. Both of you are panting, and you see his eyes dark with lust as he looks down at you, his hair messy from how much you grabbed it, and his chin glistening from your release.
You reach out a shaky hand, ready to pleasure him now. But then you feel a flutter in your belly when he moves his head between your legs again. He presses a kiss to your knees, leaving more bites and marks the closer he gets to your center.
What was he-
He meets your eyes briefly, averting them to gaze at your center again. “I want one more. Like this please.”
“Zayne, wait-“ you sound a bit panicked, but he doesn’t hear you as he buries his face in between your legs again. You feel him squeeze your thighs when you moan and try to squirm away, pulling away to bite your inner thigh in warning before he continues to suck against your sex once more.
You lean back against the pillows, panting as you watch the way he devours you. You can see the pleasure on his face - he was enjoying this as much as you. You feel the fire in your veins at this and widen your legs even more. He moans in response, lapping and sucking harder until you come, crying out louder than your previous orgasm.
Then finally, he pulls away, licking at his lips. He sees your disheveled self and is almost tempted to go again, but the tightness in his pants was getting unbearable. He cups your cheek and gently says, “You did well.”
You flush in pleasure at the praise, but then you pout. You use your strength and flip him around, smirking at the huff of surprise he lets out.
He grabs your hips but falls silent, waiting for your next move. You try not to shiver at the predator-like gaze. You were on top but you felt the command and control in his silence as he stared. He was letting you maintain control.
For now, at least.
You grasp his chin, “Why am I naked but you’re still dressed?” Your hand falls to unbutton his shirt, and with his help you take off his pants. Before you take off his boxers you stare at the wet spot leaking through, and on impulse you press your hand against it.
Zayne throws his head back with a hiss, flexing his hands on your hips. You feel a flash of heat in your stomach and move to take them off. He pulls out a condom from his drawer, groaning and pushing your hand away when it starts to stroke him.
You give him a teasing smile, quickly sliding the condom on. And without warning, you promptly sheathe yourself on him, throwing your head back with a moan. You welcome the slight stretch and the pleasurable vibrations of the groans Zayne let out. He lets you ride him at your pace, but when he looks at you everything gets too much.
He grits his teeth. I need more . Pressing his feet against the bed, he holds your hips tighter and press them down, while thrusting up at the same time. You cry out from the deepness of it, holding onto his chest to steady yourself.
He snaps his hips up over and over again, huffing out, “Tell me you’re mine.”
You whimper at his words, feeling the brand of his hands on your hips that will surely leave a slight bruise. “I’m yours.” His pace quickens, and your breaths rush out as you try to match him, swiveling your hips to make him moan.
He cups the back of your neck, bringing you in to kiss you. It’s possessive, affectionate, needy, and you’re almost dizzy from it. You feel yourself clench against him, moaning together. You were so close.
You drop on him harder just as he thrusts up deeper, and you breathlessly say,“ You’re- ah - the only one in my eyes. I am yours as you are mine.” You then kiss him softly, feeling his breath hitch. He comes with a quiet moan, and his pleasure rips through you and triggers you to follow. You sob as he continues thrusting to get you both through your peak until he finally pulls out, letting you collapse against him.
He holds you tenderly as you two catch your breath, brushing kisses on your face and whispering soft praises. You smile back tiredly, pressing a kiss to his cheek in return before he moves away. You watch as he goes into the bathroom, returning with a wet cloth.
As he wipes your body, he asks, “Was I too rough on you?”
You hum in pleasure at the warmth and shake your head, “No, I liked it. Thank you.”
He chuckles, “ I should be thanking you instead.”
You grab his wrist, “I wanted to say this earlier, but thank you for protecting me.”
His eyes flash with affection and he leans forward to press a kiss on your forehead. “No need to thank me for that either.”
You tease, “Yea, in the end I got to see you lose some control, acting like that. Maybe next time I can take charge and make you lose control in some other way.”
The bottom half of his face is covered as he brings your hand to his lips. You see the affectionate curl of his smirk as he kisses your palm, then your wrist.
“I’m looking forward to it.”