Archive of Our Own ^beta

I’m currently in the middle of the woods when I get a notification on my hunters watch that there is a wanderer attack nearby. I follow the coordinates through the underbrush, ducking under branches and avoiding rocks, and when I emerge, I’m in… Zayne’s backyard?

Well, sort of, the entire thing is enclosed in a high fence, but the location ping on my watch tells me that the wanderer is still ahead of me. I don't actually know if he’s home right now, but the fact that as I walk around the perimeter, it seems to be pinging from inside gets me worried fast. From inside, I can definitely hear some kind of commotion going on. But why would Heartbreaker attack a house randomly like this…? No, it wouldn’t just show up to destroy property, I decide, Zayne must be inside.

At that moment I hear the distinct and familiar sound of Zayne’s ice spikes crackling and lodging themselves in something, possibly the wall. Luckily, only a few weeks ago, Zayne gave me the code to his front door, deciding it was “only fair” because I’d given him my apartment key. You know, just in case of “emergencies”. No other reason.

This is the first time I’ve used it though, and for a moment I’m not sure I can remember it. Was it 4102? No… 4210? No… Shit! 0412? Yes! The lock on the door blinks green and I push it open before pausing for a second, realizing something I hadn’t before. 

0412? That’s… My birthday.

I blink and shake my head a little. Not important right now! 

The sounds are coming from the living room, up ahead, and I think I even catch a glimpse of the little pink and purple wanderer. I can definitely hear it screeching, then from through the doorway, I see another ice spike whiz past. Heartbreaker cries, there’s the sound of something breaking, and then a heaving gasp that sounds distinctly like Zayne, before a series of hacking coughs.

When I skid to a stop in the room, Heartbreaker is gone, and with a brief glance at my watch, I see that the metaflux has dissipated. Which means that Zayne took it down. At least for now. Another glance around the room, and Zayne is leaning against an armchair with one hand, while his elbow covers his mouth. He’s still coughing. 

“Are you okay?!” I ask, trying not to sound panicked as he doubles over, now holding himself up by his elbow on the armchair. In just a few long strides, I’m at his side, hands hovering over his back, trying to assess what might be wrong. The first thing I notice is that he’s breathing hard and he’s flushed, though maybe that’s just the exertion from fighting. What I expect to see is maybe a bit of frost on his fingertips or creeping up his neck, but instead, when I place my hand tentatively on the small of his back, I realize he’s burning up. Also… The moment my fingers make contact with his body, he moans. I jerk back almost on instinct, my brow furrowing in confusion. Is he injured there?

Zayne rolls his head to the side, and I can see better how he looks, red and panting. “I’m,” cough, “fine… You certainly acted quickly.”

He doesn’t look fine. His pupils are blown, and he has a hazy look in his eyes. My concern grows.

I blink at him. “Did you just…”

He looks away, blushing brighter, “... Yes, I believe so.”

“I think you should sit down.” I touch his shoulder and arm to guide him, trying to get him to walk around the chair to sit down, but that touch too has a shiver going through his whole body before he tenses up, though he doesn’t try to stop me from guiding him into the seat.

“Are you in pain?”

“No, I… No, not pain.” He gets out after a second, his expression pinched, almost frustrated, and he seems to be trying to avoid looking at me, keeping his gaze settled firmly on the ground and away from me as he clasps both hands in his lap. Maybe I’m imagining things, but I think I can see a bulge in his pants where his legs press together.

“Let me get you some water.”

“Yes… Water.” He’s distracted.

When I return with a glass of water, his condition has already deteriorated drastically. He’s almost panting, one hand gripping the arm of the couch, the other in a fist on his thigh. He’s burning up when I get close, and he seems to have attempted to adjust himself in his pants in my absence. I feel a brief flash of anger go through me, just knowing that he’s in a state like this, and he’s arrogant enough to think he can get away without me noticing.

I set the glass down, concerned, and drop to my knees in front of him, taking a hold of the hand on his leg. His eyes drift closed, and he moans softly. My voice is quiet, but firm.

“Zayne, what did it attack you with?”

His face pinches more, and he swallows. “An aphrodisiac of some kind, I would assume, based on my symptoms. You… You should go. I’ll be fine. It’ll wear off.”

“You’re an idiot if you think I’m just going to leave you here. Do you have any idea what will happen to you if this is left to work its way through your system?”

He does. He’s seen patients exhibiting these same symptoms before, on rare occasions. In a hospital setting, there’s not much to do for them except keep their body temperature down and make sure they’re hydrated. From what he’s seen, detoxifying this particular poison is excruciatingly painful, regardless of the drug they're given to ease it. He should drink that water.

“Yes.”

“Well so do I, so no, you’re not going to make me go anywhere right now.” I lean over him, hands on his thighs, and he suddenly looks up into my eyes, so needy, and whimpers. “You’d do the same thing if I was in your position, right?”

After a second, a short nod, though it looks like it pains him. “I would.”

“Then stop being a hypocrite.”

His eyes get a little wider as he looks up at me, “But what if I can’t co–”

“Don’t start that again.” I shoot him a look, and sigh at the worry on his face. My hand strokes his cheek and hair for a second, and it seems that’s all he really needs as he deflates a little, leaning into my palm and letting out a soft little grunt from the back of his throat.

I reach forward between his legs, and they seem to part for me almost instinctively. When my hands cups him through his trousers, his head falls back, and his hips rise up to meet me. The sound he makes as I squeeze down on him is a soft, high pitched moan. He’s still gripping the armrest with one hand, and I swear his knuckles are turning white already.

“Please… I need…” Already Zayne sounds a little wrecked, his voice low and desperate. The heat of his cock is heavy in my hand, and I squeeze down a little harder one more time, pulling another groan from him before I let go.

“I know what you need.” I reassure him, and start to work on my clothes. My hunter’s uniform is a little complicated to get off, but the good news is that I’ve had a lot of practice. First the belts, then vest, boots, and in only a few seconds I’m shucking off the tight pants, leaving me only in my white button down. When I look up, I realize that Zayne has been drinking in the sight of me undressing the entire time, and one of his hands has now taken place of my own, where he seems to be gripping himself pretty damn tightly, enough that the veins and tendons on his hand have become more prominent than usual. 

As I take a step closer to him, he reaches out, grabbing hold of me to touch me everywhere, and all pretense is lost to him. Squeezing at my ass, my hips, my thighs, everywhere he can reach until he has a strong enough grip to rut me against him. His head falls onto my shoulder, and he’s whining, wordless.

I let him do that for a minute or two, locked against him in his strong arms while his hips move beneath me, and then I grab his arm to make him stop. Even though he could easily overpower me, he ceases desperately grinding himself on me, and looks up with wide eyes, blown out by his lust, like a puppy begging for food. Or maybe like he’s afraid he’s done something wrong, and is about to receive a scolding. I brace one arm on his chest, and with the other move back on his lap. He watches, rapt as I undo his pants and pull out his cock. It’s already leaking, red, and throbbing in my grip.

The first touch has him swearing quietly, hips moving into my hand. I squeeze down on the tip as I stroke upwards, and he lets out a broken sound, his body arching for a second. So I do it again, and again, watching him as his head rolls to the side, and he seems incapable of closing his mouth.

“Too hot…” He chokes out. And he is sweating, almost through his shirt already. Were he alone, I think, this is the point by now where he would have attempted to get himself into a cold shower. 

“Let me help you then.”

I start undressing him, and it seems like every brush against him, clothed or not has him reacting, letting out little whines and moans, and he’s almost trembling with the effort to contain himself. Sometimes it even sounds like he’s trying to speak, but every plea comes out half formed.

I offer encouragement to him until he’s completely bare, and help him stand so I can lay him down on the couch. I press my full weight on top of him. He’s about to lose his mind, his neck and back arching underneath me, hands tight on my waist. 

“Hey,” I murmur against his throat, and he moans. He’s so hard that I can feel a wet sticky mess starting to form between us, “you still with me?” I ask him, against his lips, barely brushing against them with my own. Zayne just groans and captures my mouth in a bruising kiss, letting go of my hips to hold me by the back of neck to him. His tongue probes at my bottom lip, and he’s moaning so softly and so desperately that I feel a surge of heat between my legs. I open my mouth to him, and he moans louder, his tongue invading me the moment he’s given permission, licking into my mouth, like he’s trying to taste and memorize every part of it. 

When he finally lets me go, he’s gasping, and his lips are now swollen, pink, and shiny with our shared spit. 

It’s frankly, an amazing look on him. 

“I’m here…” He pants, his voice hoarse as his dazed expression meets mine. I’ve never seen him like this before, it’s like he’s almost drunk on sex, and we haven’t even had it yet. “Just… Need you… Please…” Zayne begs, quiet and small, and he speaks slowly, like he’s unsure how to properly voice his own desires. For just a second, I’m overwhelmed by just how… cute he is. It’s my turn to swear under my breath, and I can’t help pulling him into another kiss, which he accepts gratefully. 

I reach my hand between us, rising up on my hips and scooting forward to position myself over him. When I grab his cock he seems to finally realize what I’m doing, and for a second I’m worried he’s forgotten how to breathe, with the way he suddenly goes almost entirely still. His erection is slick already, and I use the mess of cum he’s made on himself to stroke him a few times, until his cock is coated in his own seed. Zayne’s head arches back against the cushion of the couch, and the leg he has braced on the floor moves inwards, jostling me a little as I press the tip of his cock against me. I rub it against me a few times, looking down at the debauched mess of himself that Zayne has already become, and fuck if I don’t feel myself almost gush between my legs. 

“Please don’t tease me.” He sounds almost broken, begging as he tries to arch up into my cunt, whining when I place a hand on his hip to keep him still.

“I’m not, I promise.” I try to reassure him by rubbing my thumb against his skin, where I’ve braced myself on his chest. Then, I get his cock to catch on the rim of my entrance, and sink down all in one go. It nearly takes the breath out of my lungs, the sudden fullness and heat of him inside me, and I let out a few soft gasps. 

“Oh, fuck…” Zayne whimpers beneath me, his voice high and thready. His hands twitch for a fraction of a second, and then he grabs at my waist, like he needs something to just ground him. I start to move, slowly at first, and watch his face screw up almost like he’s in pain, but I think really he’s just trying to stay still. My breath comes out heavier as I brace both hands on his chest and move on him faster, rolling my hips atop his own.

And God, it feels so good that I start to get lost in it myself a little, chasing my own pleasure with his cock, and when I look down at him I see him watching me, his mouth open, and he’s making the cutest little sounds with every movement, growing faster with each passing moment, and then I see it. I don’t stop riding him while I watch his back arch, his eyes close, and his body start to twitch and tremble while I feel him pulsing inside of me. He’s almost silent during his orgasm, only gasping softly, as if he doesn’t have the breath to make another sound.

I don’t cum yet, but I can feel myself clenching down around him at the sight of him coming undone. His hair is messy, his cheeks and ears bright red, and his chest is heaving underneath my palms. He looks completely fucked out, boneless, and like he’s barely aware of his surroundings. 

My hips keep grinding down onto his cock that hasn’t started to soften yet, and I try to angle myself so that I can fuck down almost onto his public bone, because I know if I can get my clit just a little bit of– “Oh god!” I choke out, and start to ride him hard and fast as I feel my orgasm start to wash over me, and I feel how wet it’s getting between us, the squelch getting louder and louder while I work my way through it. 

In the haze, I dimly become aware of Zayne’s hands now taking a bruising grip on my hips, and the pained groans and whines that start to come from him while I use his overstimulated cock.

“Oh fuck, oh, mmm, wait, I can’t–” He starts to protest, but during the fall of my orgasm, I feel him start to cum again, in a matter of seconds. This time he is not so quiet. Instead he keens, and inside of me his cock jumps wildly, spurting into me over and over, and as Zayne gasps and shudders through it, for a second I think both of us are wondering if it’ll ever end. 

As it ebbs away, he makes a little sobbing sound, and while I catch my own breath, I feel that he’s still holding tight to my hips. I lean heavily over him, tightening around his cock a few times as I feel it start to soften inside of me, and hear Zayne’s small, almost pained grunt.

There’s a long silence, neither of us speaking or looking at each other until I feel his cock slip out of me, flopping back down between his own legs, and then I raise up to look at him. I wonder if I look as disheveled as he does. Not that it matters, because he’s looking up at me and his eyes are almost sparkling.

I clear my throat, “Better?”

Zayne huffs a chuckle, and instead looks at his hands as they start to move up and down my thighs, his voice still hoarse, “Yes, much… But I’m afraid I might need a follow up appointment, doctor.”

I roll my eyes, and crawl back over him to steal another short kiss. I don’t miss the way he tries to follow my lips for a second. “Well, then I guess we’ll just have to schedule one.”