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aeyumicore · 2 months

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☾ .⭒˚ what's mine ♡ zayne x afab reader

⋆.˚ ☾ pairing: zayne x afab!reader (very fem!reader)

☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, pwp, not canon events (completely fictional)

⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 10.7k

☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni, first time sex with zayne (not virginity loss), jealous!zayne, dom!zayne, zayne slightly loses control of evol, furniture breaks, lot’s of teasing, fictional characters, size kink, vaginal sex, oral sex f!receiving, tongue fucking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampies, slightly drunk sex (not really), tummy bulge, posessive/claiming behavior, let me know if i missed anything!

⋆.˚ ☾ a/n: helloooo writing for my fav zayne again <3 would you guys believe this is actually the first lads fic i ever started but i put it on hold because it was way too elaborate and i didn’t want to make a whole like multi chapter fic? i actually cut out a lotttt of it, it probably would’ve been more like 30k words if i kept the same writing style/detail i had originally, and i just could not do that to myself

also the matthew/intern mentioned in the fic is completely made up and fictional, he is not a reference to any characters! i couldn’t bring myself to use greyson for the purposes of the plot bc i think he and zayne are so cute LOL god i love the jealous angsty feelings trope

pls enjoy hehe i luv u guys <3 also come interact with me on twit @/aeyumicore :’)

⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚

“will you go to dinner with me?”

you whip your head around to see where the unfamiliar voice came from, coming face to face with one of the surgical interns of the akso hospital. you’d run into him several times before when visiting zayne at work, but never quite got his name.

“me?”

the intern chuckles at your dumbfoundedness, which he thinks is adorable, “yes, you’re y/n right? my name is matthew. i'm one of the surgical interns here. so, will you let me take you to dinner tomorrow?”

zayne chokes on his rice from the seat beside you, patting his chest a few times to clear his throat. you’d decided to have lunch with zayne after your check-up today; well more like you’d forced him to the cafeteria with you against his will. you’d desperately wanted to try the infamous mint chocolate chip jello the hospital cafeteria served, even though you knew it’d be disgusting. and so you both sat at a table in the cafeteria, you with your jello and zayne with a homemade bento box you’d made for him, along with some of his favorite pastries from the bakery down the street.

at his coughs, the intern’s eyes snapped to zayne’s and it was like he’d just then realized zayne was there, the surprise and anxiety written all over his expression. zayne was always someone who commanded respect and fear from his colleagues and subordinates, so much so that matthew had turned pale as a ghost.

“oh! dr. zayne, i’m so sorry i didn’t realize–” but zayne cuts him off with a simple wave of his hand.

“it’s fine. continue your conversation.” you’re a bit taken back by zayne’s nonchalance. sure, you were just childhood friends but it would be nice if zayne had any reaction at all to being asked out right in front of him. you yourself couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards zayne but it was seeming more and more that it was completely one sided.

“i, um…” you’re at a loss for words, not knowing how to let the handsome intern down. matthew was honestly very attractive, and seemed kind enough, but you had hoped to spend your friday night with zayne, though you hadn’t had the chance to ask him yet. he’d been swamped with surgeries and patients the last few days and you hardly got to see him at all. and you missed him thoroughly.

“i actually had plans with zay– i mean dr. zayne,” you glance at zayne, hoping he’ll get the message, but the expression on his face is dark and unreadable.

“no we don’t. you should go,” zayne’s tone is cold and his eyes refuse to meet yours. despite yourself, your heart clenches in disappointment. you know zayne could be obtuse but he was also extremely intelligent and perceptive. he undoubtedly knew you wanted to spend your night with him. but it was becoming more and more apparent he did not want to spend his with you.

“but i–”

“i have plans anyways.” your eyes can’t help but sting as he avoids looking at you. so you try to steel yourself; you were a big girl and a little bit of unrequited affection would not destroy you. keeping your voice steady and blinking back unshed tears of frustration, you look up at matthew, his eyes lighting up at you expectantly, and you try to give him your best smile.

“i…i would love to go to dinner with you!”

you don’t notice the deep scowl on zayne’s face as a dark icy storm brews in his green eyes.

–

you stumbled out of the taxi, your way-too-high heels catching on the foot step almost causing you to trip headfirst into the pavement. you sigh as you catch yourself on the cab door and glance at your hunter watch and see that it’s already 1am.

“get home safe miss, and no more drinks, you hear me?” your cab driver reprimands you teasingly.

“yes sir,” you mock salute him as you wobble onto your feet, thoroughly drunk, “thank you so much! please drive safe. good night sir!”

“good night miss!”

you turn towards your apartment building, sighing in exhausted defeat. what an absolute disaster of a night.

the date was unexpectedly wonderful. matthew was handsome, kind, funny, and a complete gentleman. he brought you to a very fancy and expensive restaurant downtown, so you wore one of your most elegant dresses, not that you had many. it was a simple satin black mid-length evening dress, with a slit that exposed just up to your mid thigh and an open back that accentuates your figure. you’d normally never wear something so sensual on a first date, but you couldn’t deny that the way zayne had reacted, or not reacted, stung your heart. so maybe you did go a little extra tonight because you were hurt. so what?

after dinner, matthew and you took a leisurely stroll at linkon park, with enough time to catch the sunset. as you watched the sun melt into the sea of golden yellows and dusky pinks, matthew kissed you. it was passionate, slow, and soft. the perfect kiss.

except when you moaned out zayne’s name.

and so the night ended as quickly as it began. matthew was as understanding as he possibly could have been, but you could tell it killed anything that could have happened between the two of you. matthew was a surgical intern, so with what little free time he had, he said he couldn’t chance it on a girl who was clearly already in love with someone else, especially if that someone was his boss and mentor. he’d offered to give you a ride back home but you refused, saying you’d grab a cab instead.

so you found yourself at a bar, downing shots of soju to numb the mortification of your blunder but also the feeling of utter patheticness. hours went by as you wallowed in your emotions. you’d had feelings for zayne for as long as you could even remember. and still, you couldn’t tell him or move on from him.

but maybe you would have the guts to tell him if it didn’t feel like he literally could not give two cents about you, beyond as a patient and as his annoying childhood friend. it was literally like pulling teeth to get him to spend any time at all with you lately.

so here you were, stumbling into your apartment building at 1:37 am: drunk, exhausted, and empty. the night breeze raised goosebumps on your exposed thighs as your heels clicked on the pavement in the dark.

you headed toward your apartment, through the main entrance and up the lobby elevator, the alcohol still making your brain swim. luckily you no longer saw double, and your eyelids no longer felt like a ton of bricks.

the elevator door dinged open and you trudged toward your unit, your toes screaming in protest in the confine of your heels. you forced your vision to cooperate with you as you tried to punch in your door code. the error buzz sounded out, again and again, and you groaned in frustration.

in the blurry edges of your vision, a large and slightly scarred hand reached over yours. yelping, you whip yourself around and reach to grab the gun you always had strapped to your thigh. but from the icy cold touch against your fingers and the scars littering the pink skin, you realize exactly who it was.

“zayne?” you did your best not to slur, trapped between him and your front door. you don’t miss how he swears under his breath as his eyes trail down your body, lingering at all your exposed skin, before snapping back up to your face. you can’t even imagine how wrecked you must look right now, mentally kicking yourself for not touching up after the bar. your gloss was undoubtedly smeared from the kiss and the copious alcohol, your hair a bird’s nest from the night breeze, and your mascara smeared from the stray tears of your drunken emotions.

you didn’t do a very good job at steeling your voice because zayne saw right through you, his eyes narrowing as they absolutely drank you in, “you’re drunk?” his voice holds a dangerous edge, as if mad that you’d have the audacity to be drunk. he deftly types your access code in, and gently ushers you into your apartment. you stumble in your heels against his body, and zayne wraps his arm around your waist to catch you before you fall. you flush at the way his hands palm the exposed skin of your lower back.

“m’not drunk,” you protest, swatting his hand away, not wanting your body to give any of your feelings towards him away, but zayne only grips you tighter, fingers flitting between the soft satin material of your dress and the goosebump ridden skin of your back. his arm on your waist feels so right, threatening to make you melt right into his embrace. but you fight the urge, trying to hold onto your annoyance.

you can’t see his eyes but you know they’re rolling in their sockets at your obvious drunkeness. he gently guides you through the threshold of your home and then kneels down before you. the sight of him on the floor in front of your feet makes you reel, hoping the furious blush is masked by the flush of alcohol in your blood.

“w-what are you doing?” you try to step back, but your knees wobble and zayne grips your thigh in place. you shiver at his cold touch on your sensitive skin, a little too high for you to keep any semblance of calm.

“do you want to stay in these deathtraps?” he murmurs as he starts to slip the strappy heels off of your aching feet. his fingers around your ankle tingle as he softly massages the red skin of where the straps dug in.

“zayne? why are you here? did something happen?” your voice wavers still, but zayne’s cold touch is starting to sober you up and clear your vision as your mind tries its best to focus on him. zayne doesn’t respond as he lifts your other foot and slips the other heel off. his fingers linger on your bare legs before he slips your house slippers on your feet, standing back up to tower over you.

“it’s almost 2 in the morning, and you’re just now coming home,” his voice is hard and stern, it’s clear he has things he wants to say but you’re in no mood for a lecture on sexual safety, stds, and stranger danger.

“i was busy,” you snap, your emotions running extra high from everything that had happened today, especially zayne’s nonchalance. but he’s incredibly patient with you, as he always is, taking you by the waist nagain and leading you to your living room couch. you’re too tired to resist, and you desperately need to get off your aching feet.

“how was your date?” zayne sits you on your couch and then heads to the kitchen, coming back with a glass of water. his question reminds you of how royally you screwed up today and your mood sours even more.

“fine,” you mutter, trying to keep from snapping at him again. zayne sits beside you and brings the glass of water to your lips, tilting it for you with his fingers on your jaw. you take deep gulps, the cold water soothing your entire sore body. sinking further into the couch, your mind wanders back to your disastrous screw up. you’d called matthew zayne. it literally couldn’t get more mortifying than that.

zayne stares at you and you know he doesn’t believe you, so you murmur again, “it was fine.” but as his intense eyes bore holes into you, your voice cracks under all the feelings you’d stuffed deep down today.

he was here now and it confused you to no end. you’d wanted nothing more than to spend your day with him, but he’d pushed you away. were you really that blind that you’d developed feelings for a man who did not feel even slightly the same way?

your eyes well up with tears at the thought and you try to subtly brush them away by pretending to scratch your cheek, but as always zayne sees right through you.

“did he do something to you? did he get you drunk?” zayne’s voice is calm but hard and threatening.enough to scare you if it weren't for the way he softly gripped your chin, forcing your eyes back to his, using his free thumb to catch the tears before they can slip down your cheek

but through it all, you register the implication of his words. “wh-what? no!” you exclaim, “matthew was a complete gentleman.”

his eyes track yours, unwilling to let go of your gaze, “then why are you crying?”

you blink back your tears before more can fall onto his thumb. your voice wavers as you stare into the hazel green ocean of his eyes, and you answer his question with a question of your own, “why are you here zayne?”

“i wanted to make sure you got home safe.” your chest constricts with unrelenting emotions, but your drunken haze makes you even more steadfast in your stubborn resolve.

“well i’m home, safe,” you avert your eyes, knowing if zayne keeps staring at you with that intensity you’ll start to unravel and confess everything.

“why did you take a cab home?”

your eyes snap to his, “how did you know i took a cab?” and this time zayne’s eyes refuse to meet yours, “zayne? how long have you been waiting for me?”

zayne doesn’t respond, instead brushing the tangles out of your hair. you try to get his attention by tugging at his tie, the alcohol making you feel much bolder than you normally ever would.

you can see his adam's apple bob as he lets himself be drawn in, only slightly, towards you. at your pout, he sighs in defeat, prying your hands away so he can loosen the tightened hold around his neck, “i’ve been waiting for you…forever.”

before you can respond, he clears his throat and continues, “i got here at 9 and waited in my car when i knocked and you didn't answer.”

at your bewildered expression, he sighs and elaborates, “i just wanted to see you get back home safely. but when i saw you get out of that cab i needed to come check on you.”

your brows furrowed as your sobering self tried to do the math in your head. zayne can practically see the steam coming out of your ears and smiles lopsidedly, chuckling under his breath at how adorable you were being.

“you waited for 7 hours?!” you exclaimed, eyes wide.

his grin deepens and you can see his eyes sparkling with laughter , “you are drunk. why are you drunk?”

you purse your lips shut, unwilling to speak. with all the overwhelming emotions swarming your mind, you knew if you started talking now you would surely never stop.

at your silence, zayne prods gently, “talk to me, y/n.” his voice is deep and commanding in a way that almost always gets you to listen to him.

you zip your lips shut and turn away, doing your damn best to not give in. but zayne’s touch, still on your cheeks, forces you back towards his eyes.

“be a good girl,” he demands softly, his eyes searching yours for answers.

blowing out your cheeks like a child, you’re unwilling to give up the attitude, “i’m drunk because i was drinking.”

“did matthew take advantage of you?” zayne’s jaw is locked and the intensity in his eyes is blinding, damn near dangerous.

“no! zayne, no. i went to a bar to drink alone, after our date,” you try to hide the embarrassment from seeping into your voice.

“why? did he do something to you?” his voice is still threatening, and you sigh at the unrelenting questions. you knew zayne well enough to know he wasn’t going to let up, so it would just be easier on you if you told him everything that happened.

“matthew was amazing,” you don’t notice the way zayne’s eyes darken at your praises for the intern, “the date was fantastic. and after, we saw the sunset.” his expression is still unreadable and you start to fidget under his intense gaze, not knowing in the slightest what he was thinking.

“and then he kissed me. we kissed. and that was it. i went to the bar and he went home. end of story.”

zayne’s fists ball so tightly his knuckles turn white, but he keeps his gaze steady. he doesn’t speak, and you’re scared of the tense silence that falls between you two.

“he couldn’t at least accompany you? make sure you were safe?” you can tell zayne is angry by the way his feet taps uncharacteristically erratically against the floor, “driven you home?”

his questions make it impossible for you to forget about your horrifying mistake today and you just feel so incredibly bad for matthew. the regret and embarrassment gnaw at your mind like parasites. and so against your better, albeit slightly still drunken, judgment, you finally blow.

“he left because i was thinking of you, okay? matthew was a gentleman, he was funny, kind, and charming. and yet i was thinking of you the whole time. and so he left and i went to a bar and got drunk all on my own, okay?”

“you were thinking of me?” zayne’s voice is an annoying mix of bewilderment, intrigue, and what sounds like mockery, which just infuriates you.

“i am always thinking of you zayne! i thought about you at dinner, i thought about you when we watched the sunset, and i thought about you when he kissed me,” you burst, your drunken lack of inhibitions leaving nothing unsaid.

zayne’s face is unreadable again, but there’s a heat in his eyes that makes you tremble in your seat, “you were thinking of me when he kissed you?”

unable to bear his unrelenting repetitive questions anymore, you explode, “yes zayne! and when he kissed me i called out for you!” the confession tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think twice about it. it takes you a second to realize what you’d just blurted out and you bury your face in your hands, wanting nothing more than to scream at the top of your lungs. unfortunately it was 2am and you had neighbors that most definitely would not appreciate that.

you feel his strong hands grab your wrists gently, prying your hands away from your face, wanting to see you, “you called for me?” his tone is as amused as it is intrigued and it frustrates you to no end, the shame weighing heavily on your mind.

“don’t tease me right now zayne,“ you warn weakly, “i am always thinking about you. but you…” your voice trails off to a shallow whisper, “you don’t seem to think about me.”

zayne is silent but his eyes are as intense as you’ve ever seen them, staring into your soul. the silence is thick in the air as you refuse to be the one to break it.

finally, he speaks, voice clouded with indiscernible emotions, “is that what you really think? that i don’t think about you?”

“do you really think i waited for 5 hours, in my car, for you to come back because i don’t think about you?” your breath catches in your throat at the pure and raw growl in his voice.

before you can respond, he continues, “i think about you every second of every day. i thought about you all day, thought about you on your date with matthew.”

zayne shifts so that he can cup your face with both his hands, drawing his face closer but not close enough, “i thought about him getting to hear your voice, getting to touch you…to kiss you. it drove me insane.”

your feelings churn in your stomach and into your chest, making it hard to breathe. the way zayne is looking at you, his hands holding your face so possessively, threatens to stop your heart altogether. you’re drawn to him all over again, only this time it feels like he might be drawn to you too.

“w-why?”

zayne doesn’t speak, and you watch as his eyes flutter to your parted lips as you pant out your breaths, eyes fighting to stay open amidst all the tension enveloping the two of you.

“why did you push me to go with him then?”

his eyes force themselves onto yours, as if unwilling to leave your lips, “i made a mistake.”

his revelations quickly sober you up, and you’re left feeling vulnerable but bold. you softly grab a fist full of his tie, pulling him closer. you can faintly hear him groan under his breath, but he lets himself be guided towards you. your lips are so close to each other that you’re inhaling each other in, and you beg gently, “kiss me, zayne.”

zayne wastes no time at all, threading his fingers from your cheek into your hair, pulling your face the remainder of the distance to his own.

your first kiss with zayne is nothing like you’d daydreamed it would be. you’d imagined the patient and reserved surgeon to be soft, gentle, taking his time with you. you’d expected it to be passionate but reserved, like the handsome raven haired man himself.

and while the passion was undeniably there, what you didn’t expect was the bruising claiming heat that came with it. zayne’s soft lips marked you as his own, a lifetime’s worth of emotions evident in the way he molded himself against you. with every twitch of his lips, zayne laid claim to what was his. he kissed you like you might disappear at any moment, as if this was all a dream.

and when his tongue swiped across the parting of your lips, asking for permission to enter, you gladly relented control and authority. after all, you were his. you think you had been for some time.

you hadn’t expected your first kiss with zayne to be like this, and yet it was everything you wanted and more.

when you shift yourself to climb on top of him and straddle him on your couch, zayne reluctantly pulls away, hands still gripping the back of your head, “y/n, we should stop.” but he can’t stop his hands from leaving your soft hair and resting on your hips, almost like a reflex. his words say one thing but his hands just can't seem to pry themselves off of you.

you’re taken aback by his words, unable to stop the insecurity and hurt that paints your face. zayne notices instantly, one of his hands leaving your hips to stroke your cheek, hooking some of your hair behind your ear. you lean into his hand, the whiplash starting to exhaust you as much as it kept you on your toes.

“i want to,” he whispers hoarsely as you squirm on top of him, answering your unsaid thoughts, “i can’t even convey how much i’ve fucking wanted to. but you’re drunk. and the first time i finally take you…i want you to feel every second of it.”

your eyes flutter at his words, stomach clenching in anticipation. having fully sobered up a while ago, before he even kissed you, you can’t help but beg a little, “i’m not drunk anymore. and even if i was… i want you. i’ve wanted you…forever.”

zayne swears, his eyes going full doctor mode, and you can tell he’s inspecting every inch of you to try and discern if you’re truly sober or not. you fidget nervously under his intense stare, to which his hands grip your waist painfully tight to keep you in place.

“stop,” he grits out forcefully, as if in pain. you do your best to still in his lap, and that’s when you feel the unmistakable bulge of his erection underneath your parted dress that had ridden up to bunch at your hips, right against the pantyhose against your cunt.

“are you sure this is what you want?” he groans as your body presses deeper into his lap, “because once…we start i won’t be able to stop.”

his words send a shiver down your spine, the heated warning doing nothing but arousing you to your core. through your hooded eyes, you nod eagerly at him, “m’sure zayne. won’t want to stop.”

he smirks at you, a heart stopping smile that melts your brain and cunt simultaneously into a leaking mess, “you asked for it love.”

before you can even have the chance to physically combust at the affectionate pet name, zayne whisks you into the air, scooping you under your exposed knees effortlessly. you yelp, clutching onto his neck as he carries you like a bride into your bedroom, navigating your apartment like he owned it. he bent down to capture your lips with his again, like he couldn’t physically wait to get you to your bed before claiming you again.

you feel the cold press of your sheets against your spine as zayne sets you down gently, and settles in between your thighs on top of you. his eyes absolutely devour you whole, raking up and down your exposed satin clad skin, “you look beautiful. i’ve been wanting to tell you all night.” his praise is throaty with desire and it makes you squeeze your thighs together against his body in anticipation. your face heats at his words, and you run your palms up and down his abdomen, the material of his dress shirt feeling like silk against your burning skin.

zayne grins and chuckles, mostly to himself, but the sound catches your attention and you find yourself pouting in self-consciousness, “what’s funny?”

zayne’s long fingers trace the outlines of your body under the satin dress, eliciting soft moans from you that please him to his core, “you just look so beautiful.” his fingers reach the bottom of your dress and begin to stroke the fabric of your pantyhose, inching up under your dress, so torturously slowly, “you wore this for him, yet i’m the one that’s going to tear it off you.”

your body trembles at his words, the pool between your legs growing wetter. you can feel yourself growing impatient, only wanting his body to press onto yours, to suffocate your.

“zayne please, don’t make me wait any more,” you murmur as you sit up on your elbows, pressing your forehead against his. you heartbeat is quick and your rapid breaths fan across his face.

his eyes darken at your pleas, the hazel hues appearing almost a light brown, “fucking hell y/n, you’re going to drive me insane.” he sits up on his knees, loosening his tie before undoing it completely and discarding it on the floor next to your bed. you bite your lip as you watch him undo the top three buttons of his shirt, his toned chest on display under it.

leaning back down, he presses a bruising kiss against your swollen lips. his hands wander to the thin straps of your dress, gently tugging until they slip off your shoulders, letting him tug your dress down until your breasts are exposed. his tongue against yours is unrelenting, marking every inch of your mouth as his.

detaching himself from you, he buries his face into your neck, his cold lips incredibly soothing against your lust burned skin. you cry out when you feel his teeth softly sink into the skin of your pulsepoint, as he suckles on you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

“zayne,” you gasp out, his tongue and teeth working in tandem to have your mind filled with nothing but his mouth on you, “please.”

he trails down your neck and collar, inhaling you into his lungs at every opportunity. you feel his smile against your skin as he reaches your breasts, your nipples pebbled from the lust. he voice is muffled against you, “please what, my love?”

“i…” you’re too mortified to say the things you want him to do, so the silence overtakes you. unhappy with your hesitation, zayne bites into the supple flesh above your pert nipple, eliciting a string of moans and squeals from you. he’s instantly using his tongue to soothe the pain away, quickly replacing it with waves of raw pleasure.

zayne lifts his head, staring at you expectantly, “i can’t continue if you don’t tell me what you want.”

his unrelenting teasing drives you to the edge of madness, your arousal evident by the way it leaks through your panties and your pantyhose. but you’re stubborn, still refusing to speak.

“good girls listen to their doctors don’t they?” he places fleeting kisses onto your goosebump riddled areolas, careful to purposefully neglect your increasingly sensitive nipples.

“should doctors really be this intimate with their patients?” you retort like a brat, wanting to dish back all of his incessant teasing.

he smiles at you, thoroughly amused at your insolence, “i suppose not, but am i really just your doctor?” with that he captures your waiting nipples into his mouth. you cry out at the incredible feeling of his cold lips on your breasts but his warm tongue on your nipple, your lower body thrusting up uncontrollably into his crotch.

he groans into your chest as you brush against his throbbing erection, restricted by the confines of his pants. against the heat of your womanhood, zayne hardens impossibly further, feeling like he might actually explode against the constraint. the sounds of your pleasure and your cries for him make it difficult for him to concentrate.

switching to your other nipple, zayne uses one hand to undo his belt, letting it fall to the ground with his tie. he undoes the button and zipper his pants, yanking them down with such feral urgency. when his cock was finally free, he broke away from your chest, hissing in relief. you look down and you’re met with the realization of why he was in so much pain.

zayne was large. in a way that terrified you to your very core. you could imagine that the restraint of his briefs alone would be uncomfortable, painful even, when holding something like that back.

zayne catches your stare and he grips your chin between his fingers, guiding you to his eyes instead, “it’ll fit baby, don’t worry.”

you fight to keep your lip from quivering, trying not to get lost in his green eyes, “will it?”

“i’ll make it fit, but first let me prepare you love,” he says matter-of-factly, pressing a kiss to the bridge of your nose. the certainty in his voice turns you unbelievably on and you find yourself needing to please him. your hand seeks out his erection, grasping it firmly into your fingers.

he groans at the slightest touch, knees buckling into the bed beneath you. you start with languid and deliberate strokes, feeling every vein pulse under your fingers. your thumb finds his large engorged head, already leaking with pre cum, feeling every smooth surface of his cock under your touch. while zayne writhes on top of you, you revel in his glorious manhood, everything about it utterly perfect and terrifying.

as you touch him, zayne leans into the crook of your shoulder, laying claim to your sensitive neck. he marks every inch of bare skin he can find, leaving a trail of red and wet bruises in his wake.

your entire palm is wet with his leaking arousal, as he moans so closely into your ear. gently, he pries your palm away from him, sitting back up onto his knees, smirking satisfyingly down at the marks he’d left, “god, i’ve waited so long to have you.”

you reach down to shimmy out of your pantyhose and black evening dress, leaving you in your black lace thong, naked, willing, and pliant before him. you see him gulp harshly, his eyes hazy with need, and you sit up to level with him, “so take me zayne.”

a low growl rips from his throat, as he pushes you back onto the bed, setting your head against your wooden headboard. zayne tortures you, kissing down your collar, your chest, your naval, and finally down the soft mound of your pelvis.

zayne seems almost feral as he looks at your lace covered cunt and back up at you, “did you really wear this for him?”

“n-no,” you whine, “i wouldn't have ever l-let him. he wasn't you.”

zayne seems somewhat placated by your response, hooking his cold fingers into the waistband, his voice a low grumble, “that’s my good girl. no one will ever see you in or out of these, but me. right?”

your brain fogs over as he slips your soaked panties down your legs, his breath hitching seeing the string of clear slick clinging to your cunt.

“fuck.” he’s lost in his stares, in absolute awe of the meal before him, carving every single perfect centimeter into his memory. you squirm under his intense stare.

“zayne please don’t make me wait anymore,” you wine, crying out as he bends down and his lips graze the apex of your slit.

his voice is incredibly smug, “you are so beautiful when you beg for me.” you sigh in frustration as his lips and fingers continue to just barely graze your needy body.

“zayne, please,” your body thrusts into his, but he holds you back down, almost impatiently.

“behave yourself, y/n. you can do that for me, can’t you?” his voice is full of command, making you back down instantly, shivering at the suspense of his words.

“i didn't wait this long to have you just to rush all the things i want to do to you,” he all but purrs, as his lips find your soaking slit.

the room is filled with your lewd cries as zayne’s tongue licks a stripe from your clit to your throbbing hole. as your doctor, zayne knew the ins and outs of your body but you never expected him to know you like this. like his tongue was designed for nothing else but to deliver you the most unimaginable pleasure in this world.

zayne groans when his tongue enters you for the first time, the quivers resonating straight to your core. his nose brushes against your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, the vibrations of his own lust filled grunts bringing you closer to releasing all over his skilled mouth.

your thighs clench against his face, and you almost worry you might suffocate him. you try to pry them away from him, but he only grips them with his strong hands, bringing them closer to his face, wanting nothing more than to be yours, wholly and irrevocably.

“you taste better than i ever imagined,” he moans out, staring into your eyes from between your legs. you blush at the filth of his words and the glistening slick smeared across his lips and chin.

“did you – ahh hah – think about me often?” you tease between the sounds that spill out of your mouth uncontrollably.

he doesn’t answer, instead capturing your entire clit into his lips, sucking in earnest. you feel his smirk as you squeal out, hands digging into the fabric of your sheets and tugging hard. his hands knead your ass as he continues to eat, positively starved.

“z-zayne i-i can’t take much more,” you slur, your toes curling against his sides as he goes back to spearing his tongue in and out of you, using the tip of his nose to massage your clit, inhaling the smell of your arousal into his lungs.

“yeah? is my girl gonna make a mess for me?” he breathes into you, his hands reaching up to toy with your nipples. you cry in response, feeling the coil in your gut tightening beyond belief, the pleasure threatening to make you explode.

“cum into my mouth love, let me taste you,” he whispers breathlessly into your cunt, slipping his middle finger inside of you, the wet sounds of his skin pounding into yours filling the room. you come done instantly, screaming as your back arches off the bed and you release all over zayne’s waiting mouth, hands ripping at his soft hair.

“that’s it baby, look at you cumming from just one finger,” he muses, working you through your orgasm with just his middle finger. you let out a stream of broken moans, unable to form any words.

“fuck you’re this tight around just one of my fingers?” he murmurs before dipping back down to devour everything you give him.

he laps up your spend eagerly and diligently, not letting a single drop go to waste. refusing to relent against your twitching clit, zayne devours you until the overstimulation lights your pussy on fire. he’s always had a sweet tooth and it looks like he’s found his absolute favorite dessert, unwilling to give it up any time soon.

“such a messy girl,” he mumbles to himself, the clear strings of arousal sticking from your wet thighs to his chin.

your thighs tremble at the discomfort of overstimulation, doing your best to back away from him, “mmm zayne, s’too sensitive. no more, please.”

he relents reluctantly, looking utterly displeased with having his treat taken away. as he sits up, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and leans forward into you, tapping your lips with his thumb.

“open,” he commands forcefully, bringing his soaked middle finger up to you. you part your lips obediently, welcoming the taste of you on his skin. his eyes squeeze shut and he lets out a deep heated moan at the feel of your tongue on him, tasting everything he got to taste. his cock literally felt like a ton of bricks needing to be pleased.

releasing his finger, you reach for his length again, “i-i want to make you feel good too.”

zayne presses his cold lips to yours, simultaneously undoing the buttons of his shirt. he pulls aways to shrug the clothing off his broad shoulders, giving you an eyeful of his glorious physique. he shivers, letting you jerk his erection up and down, but pushing you down when you try to get on your knees before him.

“next time. we have all the time in the world,” he whispers, pushing you against the headboard, holding your cheek in his large hand, “but right now i need to be inside you.”

the smoldering fire in his eyes makes your mouth dry, and you nod meekly. the promise of a ‘next time’ is enough to have you ready for him again. your cunt still quivered, recovering from your previous orgasm, but pooling at the hoarse need in his tone.

as your head lays on a pillow against the headboard of your bed, zayne lifts you from the small of your back and shoves another pillow behind you, so that you’re elevated towards him, served on a silver platter.

“spread your legs for me,” he growls, the urgency in his voice leaving little room to protest. and so you obey, widening your legs for him, watching as he admires the area between your thighs like it was

his hand reaches to cup you, clit caught against his palm and fingers toying with your hole, “who does this belong to?”

but you can’t hear him through the searing pleasure of his touch against your over sensitive body, the blood pounding in your ears like drums. looking at where his hand meets your body, you cry out at his ministrations against you, your thighs trembling in shivers.

with his free hand zayne grabs your chin, slipping his thumb into your mouth, harshly forcing your eyes to his, “don’t look away. be a good girl and answer me.”

although his words are driven with lust, they remind you of the emotional turmoil you’d been weathering because of your feelings for the man in front of you.

“m’yours zayne, always been yours,” tears well in your eyes and you hope he can understand the weight behind your words, behind all the lust and arousal filled craze.

zayne stares back at you, and his eyes hold an entire galaxy of emotions that match the colors of his irises: desire, devotion, awe…and love.

“and i am yours,” his words strike your heart and you lean up to slot your mouth against his. as he kisses you, he lines up his thick length with your cunt, teasing your clit with his engorged tip, his pre cum mixing with your spend that still leaked out from your prior climax. you cried into his open mouth at his teases, your back arching off the pillow and further into his cock. at your movement, his head catches onto your throbbing and waiting hole, eliciting a deep grunt from him.

he pulls away, groaning, “so impatient, you want it that bad?” you whimper, burying your face into his neck and latching onto his pulse point to save yourself from having to answer.

“p-please…” you whisper into his ear. he groans, fishing through the pocket of his pants as he pulls them off of his legs.

“please what, love?” he smirks at you, pulling his wallet out, now just in his briefs pulled down to let his massive erection free.

you gulp, staring at the way he stands so proudly against his naval, reaching comfortably to his belly button. his girth rivals that of at least three of your fingers.

the rustling of plastic snaps you out of your shameless ogling. zayne places a condom packet between his teeth, tearing it with one hand. you gulp at the sight of him, but you protest, “i–i um,” you clear your throat, trying to work up the courage to vocalize what you want, “you don’t have to use that.”

zayne’s dark eyes catch yours, and the edge in his voice is dangerous, a warning, “don’t tempt me. i need to protect you.”

your face burns as you try again., “w-what i mean is, well as my doctor you know i’m clean.” you do your best to stop your voice from wavering, “and i-i um i’m on the pill.”

zayne’s eyebrows quirk as his irises darken with heat, “how come i didn't know that?

“i’ve been using an online service for a few months,” you say sheepishly, “s-so you don’t have to use that.”

zayne catches on, a satisfied smirk gracing his features, “is that so?” he teases his entire length on your slit, practically fucking you along the lips of your womanhood. using his swollen tip, he taps your clit forcefully, eliciting a throaty yelp from you.

“tell me what you want.” you shiver at the pure feral domineer in his voice.

“p-please zayne, i want it. i need it.”

“what do you need baby?”

you groan in frustration, but give into his demands, “i-i need you zayne, need you inside. need it so bad.” the way you can see his breath hitch in his throat fills you with confidence, so you lean closer until your bottom lip brushes against his, “need to feel you inside, please zayne.”

his jaw locks as he grits out forcefully, “i will give you everything.”

zayne holds his cock with one hand, lining it up with your entrance. his other hand grips the wooden beams of your bed frame, “can you take it y/n?”

if you’re being completely honest, you’re not sure you can. though you weren’t a virgin, you had never even seen a man so large, let alone attempted. but at zayne’s expectant expression, you nod eagerly, “y-yes i can, i-i can try.”

“good girl,” he mutters, before sinking himself into you. the stretch is so much worse than you imagined it would be, practically splitting you in half. you squealed, clawing at his biceps as he did his best to enter you. feeling so incredibly stuffed, you look down only to see he’s barely just gotten his tip inside.

the vein in zayne’s forehead throbs as his jaw slackens, a string of swears leaving his lips, “jesus you’re like a vice down there. i need you to loosen up love, or else i’ll never be able to get inside.”

you pant against him, not knowing what to do but to watch the way he stares intently at your tummy. the heat and desire in his expression arouses you beyond belief, and you unconsciously squeeze your velvet walls in excitement.

zayne’s knuckles turn white as he grips the headboard for support, the veins in his forearms bulging as he groans out, “fuck baby please. are you trying to squeeze it off?”

“sorry, m’sorry. s’too big,” you wail, hands gripping his shoulders for support. the stretch is nothing like you’ve ever felt, and you don’t know if you can take much more than what’s already inside you. “z-zayne it’s too big i c-can’t,” you pant, doing your best to relax and loosen up your muscles.

“you can, you’re doing so good for me y/n,” zayne huffs out, pushing deeper into you, the slick from your forming arousal and his pre cum starting to make the stretch easier. the drag of his cock against your gummy walls starts to feel so torturously delicious, like your body was made to take him in.

finally, he eases into you, eyes unable to look away from where your bodies connected.

“if you could see how – hah – beautiful you look like this, spread out for me,” he grunts, being as gentle as he can manage, when all he wanted was to ram into your warm and tight cunt, squeezing him so tightly.

“been waiting for the day i could – shit – finally be inside you. drove me fucking insane thinking about you and matthew.”

his words are enough to have you leaking all over your joined bodies, the slick dampening his pelvis and your thighs. as he seats himself in you as deeply as he can, his tip brushing against your womb, he lets out a shaky breath of ecstasy.

“is this what you – hah – thought about? when you were with another man?” his words are claiming, making butterflies explode in your gut and your cunt to flutter around him. you can only moan and drool as his body thuds into yours, over and over.

“sweetest little princess cunt i’ve ever felt,” he swears, languidly withdrawing from you before pushing back in, knocking the breath out of you. with your head leaning against the back of your bed frame you can see every second of his glistening length burrowing in and out of you, like it absolutely owned you.

“z-zayne,” you moan, nails digging into his shoulders, “please.” you don’t know exactly what you’re begging for, but you can’t stop the words from coming.

“hah, if you want something you have to – fuck – ask for it love,” he pants, doing his best not to get lost in the pure pleasure of finally getting to be inside you.

his words send you reeling, the ecstasy increasing with each deliberate and hard drag. you fight through the fucked out haze, vision blurred from your hooded lids, “hah - harder please.”

at your request zayne stutters for a brief second, your cunt squeezing so tight he could barely move, “anything for you.”

with his hand clutching the frame, he uses his other hand to rub harsh circles onto your swollen clit. his pelvis smacks against your thighs and ass so hard that the bed posts knock into the wall repeatedly, the skin slapping sounds mixing with the sounds of the wood against the plaster.

at the added stimulation your eyes roll into your brain, your eyelids weighing down heavily. zayne leans in until his chest presses against your breasts, your breaths heaving in tandem. his eyes follow yours, forcing you to hold eye contact with every deep thrust into your soul. against your will, your eyelids flutter as the pleasure starts to overcome your fighting consciousness.

you can vaguely make out zayne’s smirk, as his hand leaves the frame to cup your chin in his palm, “don’t tell me you’re already worn out, love.” his fingers flick against your clit.

you yelp out, nails digging into his back with one hand while the other hand smacks his shoulder gently. you pout, “you’re so mean to me.”

he leans down to kiss your shoulder, his pace never faltering. he chuckles against your skin, “but you can take it, right? you always take me so well.” the double meaning of his words makes you clench in excitement, the praise making your chest tighten.

he groans as you clench down onto him, threatening to make him blow, “hah so fucking tight. you like that huh baby? you like it when i praise you?” he thumbs your clit with more intensity, wanting to see you come absolutely undone for him.

you bite your lip to keep from screaming, nodding eagerly in response to his words. zayne’s thrusts only grow in intensity, as if he’s trying to reach your esophagus from your cunt. you’re a mess of uncontrollable moans and mewls, unable to stop your eyes from rolling back and your tongue from hanging out as he fucked you into oblivion.

“look at you,” he grins arrogantly, voice husky with desire and raw possessiveness, “going on a date with my intern just to end up with my cock stuffed in you.”

you whine at his words, simultaneously not wanting to think about matthew but also being so turned on by the dominating undertone of his words. his fingers abandon your clit, much to your disappointment, to trace the bulge his cock makes in your tummy. his other hand pulls your chin down so you can watch him.

“look how deep i am, love,” he grunts. you watch in awe as the small bump in your stomach bulges and disappears with the rhythm of zayne’s thrusts. with every withdrawal, zayne’s impressive cock glistens with slick, the throbbing veins bulging enough to make you drool. absolutely entranced, you fit your hand under his to stroke at his cock as it pushed through your tummy.

zayne swears as you caress his cock through the bump in your tummy, throwing his head back to catch his breath. his hand goes back to paw at your clit, trying to stop himself from blowing his load into you right there.

as the climax builds in your gut, you throb around his impossibly hardened length spearing in and out of you, to which he twitches inside of you. the sounds of your combined whimpers and grunts, the lewd smacks of his damp slick dampened skin against yours, and the bed slamming against the wall overwhelm your brain until you can only think about zayne, his cock inside you, and the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.

“zayne, i-i’m close,” you cry, hand abandoning your stomach to loop around his neck, digging your nails into his damp skin.

“fuck – i know love, i can feel you trying to squeeze it out of me,” he grunts, body slamming into yours so hard that your body smacks against the headboard.

“i’m gonna – gonna cum,” you cry, nails digging into the taut muscles of his back.

“no,” he demands, and you do your best not to gape at him. he gasps through his next strokes, “be a good girl and wait for me. i want to feel you finish all over me when i cum inside you.”

“o-okay,” you say, but you’re honestly unsure if you’ll be able to wait, the waves of pleasure crashing into you so roughly it threatens to overtake you right then and there.

“that’s my girl,” gripping your chin, zayne leans in to kiss you again, his tongue claiming your warm and waiting mouth. your eyes squeeze shut and your body tenses as you try to quell the raging tides of the impending climax, moaning endlessly into zayne’s mouth.

you pull away to breathe, your lungs needing as much oxygen as possible to withstand the ecstasy. zayne’s hand grips the wooden beams above your bed again, his knuckles turning white as he watches the pleasure contort your beautiful face.

“i-i can’t – ”

“you can, baby. i’m – hah – almost there, just hold on a little longer for me,” he grunts. the pleasure and pain of his edging threatens to knock you unconscious, but you nod and throw your head back as your eyes roll backwards again.

through your fucked out haze you can vaguely see a strange icy sheen forming on the wooden beams of your bed’s headboard. you follow the path of luminous crystals and realize they’re forming from zayne’s hand that grips against the frame so tightly his knuckles are pale and taut, as he comes closer to exploding inside you.

unable to shake yourself out of the pleasure, you can’t find the words to warn zayne. you continue to watch in awe as the beautiful iridescent flakes frost over the dull old wood. his palm is covered in a layer of snow white frost, the tiny snowflakes dancing around his skin as it grips the furniture so forcefully. you realize he’s losing control of his evol, because of you. and the idea of that threatens to push you head first into your second orgasm of the night.

it happened so fast. as zayne bullies himself in and out of you, thrusting as if his life depended on it, the wooden beams of your headboard cracks in his hand, the wood turning brittle against his icy evol, and shattering under the force of his bruising grip.

zayne shields your body with his own as frozen wooden splinters fly everywhere, his thrusts stuttering as the sound of cracking wood pierces the air. you can tell he’s scared, constantly worried about losing control of his evol around you like this. his hands clasp together, massaging his wrists and trying to calm the unpredictable storm of his evol. you can feel him about to pull away, to get away from you and keep you safe.

you hug him close to you as he tries to pull away not wanting him to stop, not caring the least bit about the splintering wood falling into your hair. the worry and disgust with himself is evident in his eyes, and it tears at your heart so you do your best to comfort him, “s’okay zayne, it’s not a big deal, i promise.”

but his eyes are far away, thick with emotions that make your chest lurch. you hold his face in your hands trying to get him to look at you and not the splintered mess of furniture above you. you lock your knees around his waist. “zayne baby,” you soothe gently, “look at me. look at me please.”

his frantic eyes meet yours under the guidance of your palms. you watch as the storm in his eyes calms down ever so slightly when they meet yours. you brush your thumb against his cheek, whispering, “don’t stop, please. m’so close. i need you.”

but zayne is hesitant, only filled with worry for you, his thrusts halting altogether but still thick and solid in you. his jaw clenches down, “did i hurt you?”

“not at all,” you reassure, hand stroking his anguish laced face, “i don’t care, please make me cum zayne, want to cum for you s’bad.”

zayne continues his thrusts slowly, trying to shake away his anger at himself, “hah – i’m so sorry y/n, i’ll buy you a new one, okay?”

“y-yes whatever you want, but please just fuck me,” you plead, not wanting your climax to slip through your fingers, “please don’t stop.”

your begging is enough to have zayne going feral again, slowly regaining the vigor in his thrusts. his hand dusts the wooden fragments away from your hair. your head sinks deep into the pillow, and falls back to peer at the gaping hole in your bed frame, slightly in awe of his sheer primal strength. it honestly turned you on unbelievably, edging you closer and closer.

“zayne i c-can’t wait anymore, m’sorry m’cumming,” you wail, your nails digging through his back as the ecstasy explodes in your body, from the tips of your curled toes to your fucked out brain. your walls flex against zayne’s vigorous thrusts as he continues to chase his own high, briefly forgetting about the furniture he’d ruined in his brief slip of control.

your eyes pull away from the snowflakes melting on the splintered headboard and fixate on zayne’s eyes as your vision spots with fireworks, his cock pistoning in and out of you relentlessly.

he lifts your thighs up until they press against his chest, your muscles aching in protest. your ankles rest on his shoulders as he drives himself into your guts at this angle. he leans down and your body screams at the stretch in your muscles but he hits you so deeply like this you can’t feel anything but pleasure. he hits your g spot at every thrust, your body barely recovering from the previous orgasm as he steers you straight into another.

“sh-shit,” he groans, his eyes hooded as they bore into yours, “squeezing me so fucking tight, are you trying to milk me? if you keep clenching down like that i’m gonna – fuck!” he swears at your nails digging into his broad back, dragging deep scratches into him as he fucks you roughly through the pleasure.

“p-please zayne i want to feel you,” you cry, “cum inside me, please.” as zayne pounds into you with no semblance of mercy, stars blur your vision, your body doing your best to accommodate him and the endless waves of overwhelming ecstasy. your wet release splashes against your skin with every thrust of his hard muscular body.

“f-fuck i’m gonna cum so deep inside you baby,” he groans with his eyes intently staring into yours, “this pussy is all mine.”

“you’re mine,” his voice is intense, a primal growl of urge and possessiveness, claiming you as his with both words and with his body. he bends back down, pressing a wet open mouthed kiss into you, tongue intertwining with yours needily. both his hands threads through your hair, tugging gently as he rocks into you. he groans into your mouth, body shuddering as he finally releases into you.

zayne rips away from your lips to rock onto his knees before you and carry you onto his lap, wanting to be able to hold you as close as possible as he emptied rope after rope inside of you. the angle allowed him to literally fuck his spend up into you. your legs wrap around his waist and your hands around his neck, unable to even squeal at the sudden movement, only able to drool out against the crook of his neck.

his spend is so deliciously hot inside of you, as your pussy quivers at the warmth, squeezing him even more. he forces his tongue into you again, wanting to be attached to you in every way as he pumps every thick rope into your waiting womb. as he tugs on your bottom lip, body still pressed on top of your legs, cock hitting your sweetest spots, you release all over him again.

your eyes squeeze shut as your cunt pulsates uncontrollably, pulling more and more of his essence into you. zayne’s thick muscles shake under you, the waves of his orgasm rocking his entire body into yours.

you pant as his bounces slow, his unending stamina finally coming to a halt as his sweaty chest heaves against your trembling breasts. he presses gentle kisses to the deep hickeys he’d marked onto your skin, using his broad hands to caress your bruise splotched throat.

the sound of satisfied pants and soft moans blankets the two of you as you snuggle into him, never wanting this moment of post sex bliss to end. your collective spend begins to leak down onto zayne’s lap, your poor cunt physically unable to hold the copious amount of spend inside of you.

as his member softens it begins to slip out of you uncomfortably, so you squeeze in an effort to keep him in you as long as physically possible.

zayne swears, his eyes heated and his gentle grip on your throat tightening just slightly, as he warns you darkly, “behave. unless you want me to take you again.”

and though the idea of him bringing you to orgasm again, and many times after, sounds like heaven on earth, you don’t think your poor cunt can possibly handle any more pleasure for tonight. he chuckles when you ease up, stroking the curvature of your naked spine with his icy fingers.

“i’m sorry about your bed, my love,” he murmurs into the shell of your ear, falling softly backwards onto the bed and guiding you down with him until you rested on top of his hard muscular body, his softening erection still nuzzled deep inside you. he’s careful to lay the two of your joined bodies away from the destroyed headboard, holding your head protectively against his chest. “i will buy you a replacement tomorrow.”

his free hand roams every inch of your body, from twirling the strands of your hair to gripping the supple flesh of your rear.

“s’okay zayne, it’s not necessary,” you murmur sleepily, tracing the contours of his taut muscles, “i don’t need a new frame.” honestly the idea of zayne breaking your bed in pure primal lust was enough to have the heat collecting back in between your thighs.

“i would rather you take me on a date,” you smile into his skin, “since you ruined the one i had today.”

zayne chuckles, the sound so warm and beautiful to your ears you think you might melt right into his solid frame, “i suppose i did. will you let me take you out tomorrow?”

you lean up so that your chin rests on his chest and you can peer at him through your lashes, giving him your best begging face, “only if you beg.”

he looks up at you, the amused lopsided smile on his face just begging to be wiped off, “please? let me take you to dinner.” he lifts your chin off his chest with his index finger, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to your lips. he smirks when you shiver at his fleeting touch, watching you bend to his very will.

“and then after…” he trails off, fingers leaving your face to trace against the side of your exposed breasts, and up to your hard nipples. you bite your lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of moaning out.

as he incessantly fiddles with your skin, you finish his thought with a joke, “after you can come destroy my new bed frame too.”

zayne’s eyes darken with mischief and amusement, “you shouldn't write checks your body can’t cash, my love.”

the filthy promise in his words coupled with his cold fingers pressed deliciously into your pebbled peaks rip the whimper you’d been holding back out of your lips, your cunt clenching in anticipation despite your crippling exhaustion.

but it seems zayne knows your body as well as you do. “but for tonight, just sleep,” he mumbles into the top of your head, pressing his lips into your hair.

“mmm stay here with me, please,” you murmur into his chest, letting the sleep take root in your pleasure numbed mind.

“i’ll be here when you wake up,” he reassures, his voice falling deeper and rougher with exhaustion and hands shifting to cover your bodies with your comforter. his hands then wrap around your waist, holding your body against this, as if scared you’d disappear from his arms. “i won’t ever leave you.”

your heart flutters as the unconsciousness claims you. “g’night zayne,” you mumble, kissing his chest.

“good night my love.”

taglist: @queenashen @kttriangle @lyssa-211 @jeikeun

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fangirl-dot-com · 3 months

Text

The Inheritance

Guys, I keep messing up the timeline. So here we go. Christian, Geri, and Mitch find out about Lorenzo and your parents disowning you at your last F2 race. Max finds out about Lorenzo in this chapter (although not written in detail). Max then finds out about your parents in chapter 18 “All For You.”

This is proof that I listen to my readers :D @dreamy-state-of-mind asked to see how reader bought her cars and this chapter was created! I can't do every ask for an idea but I try to listen to what y'all want!

Y'all are being fed...two chapters in a row (which means the next one won't be out for a little bit - so I apologize!)

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated! Enjoy!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Your hands were in your pockets as you walked around the open room. You had somehow lost Max, Vito, AND Christian. It wasn’t like you meant to walk away, you just did on accident. How could someone know that the foreign car dealership was this big. Well, you would know, but that’s beside the point.

It was quite cold in Germany. Thankfully, you had packed extra layers, something the men seemed to not know how to do. You were sure that Max would have worn his Red Bull polo if you didn’t mention to Kelly where you were going. Sure, he could dress on his own, but who would want that?

Your eyes gazed at all of the cars on the floor. Most were the common stock models. Audis, Mercedes, and even Volkswagens littered the area; yet, the cars you were looking for were nowhere to be found. You kept heading in the same direction, hoping to at least find a familiar someone who looked like they worked there.

Your ears picked up on some German words. Feet taking faster steps, you rounded a corner. Ah, there they were.

Somehow you completely missed seeing that the Porsches would be in a different room. You gingerly stepped farther into the vast open-ceiling room. Your hand itched to touch them, but you knew better.

Looking at the cars brought back some great memories of the first time your godfather took you here. Yes, he could have gotten any Italian brand of car that he wanted. Everything was at his fingertips. Yet, he brought 11-year-old you to Germany to get his imported cars.

Your eyes landed on a familiar model. If you thought hard enough, you could hear the imprints of Lorenzo’s and your laughs as he took you to do donuts in abandoned parking lots.

“A beauty isn’t she,” a voice scared you, causing you to fall on your ass. Your cheeks burned at the thought of being caught. Yet, when your eyes met familiar friendly ones, the redness left.

“Hi Seb,” you greeted as you took his outstretched hand that he offered. He pulled you to your feet and into a hug. After you were done, you pulled away to turn back to the car. This time, you let your hand gently grace the older door.

“Enzo had one,” you simply stated, leaving it at that. Most knew you didn’t like to talk about the man, since it brough on so many emotional memories.

Sebastian took a couple steps and stood next to you.

“Do you still have the keys to the garage?”

You grinned up at the German ex-driver. “Of course I have the keys. You know he left me the entire house.”

He bumped your shoulder, head jerking to lead you away from the car. You followed without hesitation.

“What do you plan to do with it?”

You cocked your head in thought. “I’m going to keep it for now. I don’t want to sell it. It’s not like I need the money anyway.”

He chuckled. “I forget that you’re like a multi-millionaire at 20.”

You just shrugged. “Not my fault that I was basically his only family. I never asked for it.” Your eyes dropped to the shiny floor below. A hand was placed on your shoulder.

“I know. I’m glad that you’re well off. Makes me feel better about not seeing you as much.” A sad smile graced his face as he looked at you.

You tried your best to give him a genuine one in return. “I’m doing much better than I was.”

“Have you showed Max your vast array yet?”

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’. “I plan to soon, actually. I told him that I needed to go to Italy after this.”

Seb raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything else. You went to talk, but familiar voices echoed in the big room.

“Kid!”

“Seb?”

Your head whipped toward the sound. Ah, there they were.

And they brought an assistant with them.

Max and Christian looked at Seb in question as Vito brought the German into a big hug. You stood toward the side to watch the two friends reunite. The assistant took this opportunity to approach you.

“Ah Miss L/n, so good to see you again!”

“Again?” Max questioned, looking at you.

The assistant turned to the Dutchman. “Yes. Miss L/n has been a patron at this establishment for years now.” He turned back to you. “I have the two models that you called ahead for. I will lead you to them.”

The man turned on his heal and began to walk deeper into the room.

Sebastian was now talking to Vito and Christian, which led to Max walking by you.

“I didn’t know you’d been here before.”

You looked up at him with a sly smile. “My godfather bought a lot of his cars from here and would take me with him. Some of the cars at the front are a part of his collection that I donated when he passed. He left me so many, I didn’t know what to do with them.”

Max stopped in his tracks as you kept walking. Once he got over his shock, he sped up to catch you.

“So many?”

You placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Maxie, how much money do you think I have?” you asked, an innocent look on your face.

“Couple thousand?”

You shook your head.

An eyebrow rose. “A couple hundred thousand?”

Another shake as a mouth dropped.

Max looked around before whispering, “Millions?”

“Bingo. We’re going to tour my house when we go to Italy.”

You kept on walking, leaving the even more confused Dutchman.

“House?”

A few steps more and you had caught up with the group of four men. Christian whistled at the sight of what lie before him.

“Thank you Mr. Klein,” you shook the assistants hand as you looked at the two dark green cars in front of you. “Did the payment go through well?”

The man nodded. “Yes it did. Mr. and Mrs. Fischer send their best regards and also thank you for the donation.”

The four men (minus your manager) gawk at you. Yet, you were too busy beaming.

“I’m so glad. Tell them that I will reach out the next time I’m here for longer. I want to see their children again, I miss them.”

With a couple more goodbyes, weird stares, and going over plans to ship your Porsches to Monaco and England safely – you were on your way to Italy.

Thankfully Sebastian wanted to join, saying something about how he hadn’t seen the house in forever. Which brought on more questioning looks from Max.

However, Christian had to sadly say goodbye as he had a connecting flight to go somewhere else for business. You promised you’d send some pictures when you could.

A chauffer had met you at the airport, names written in fancy calligraphy on a starch white piece of paper.

The man gave you two cheek kisses as you greeted him.

“Guido! Come stai amico mio?” (how are you my friend?)

Max couldn’t wipe the look off his face as you began to talk to the older gentleman in perfect Italian. Vito only patted his shoulder.

“You’ll get used to it. She’s definitely someone to unravel. You’ll get there.”

The four of you then followed the man to the Rolls Royce that was waiting in the parking area. Suitcases were loaded in, and the three of you were on your way to your house.

Or, more like mansion/estate/castle that Max found out as the car pulled closer. He turned to you.

“Kid?”

“Inheritance Max. Inheritance.”

Your door was opened once the car was parked. Multiple people came out of the house, wanting to greet you.

“La mia famiglia! Mi siete manvati tutti!” (My family! I’ve missed all of you!”)

A couple of the staff took your bags as you walked through the giant doorway. Once you were through, you turned around and opened your arms.

“Max, welcome to Casa di Lorenzo Alessandrino.”

Max’s head was in a state of looking upwards as he walked in. He would have held his mouth open, but the interior seemed to demand respect as power and poise dripped from its walls. Now it was turn for Max’s hands to itch, wanting to touch everything.

Once everything was settled, you gave Max a tour as Vito and Seb went to go get some drinks. Your fingers twirled a special key ring as you led Max to your garage.

You turned to him and gave a smile. “You ready?”

Let’s just say, Max was not ready to see so many cars. Max let his jaw drop.

The garage was deep and long, probably housing close to 40-ish cars. Your eyes glimmered as you looked at the older cars that you missed dearly.

“You can go look you know,” you told Max as you made your way down the little staircase to the floor. Your heels clicked and echoed with each step. Max was quick to be on your tail. The Dutchman made his way quickly to each car, stopping for only a second before getting distracted by the next.

You hummed as you looked at the empty spot among the Ferrari’s on the back wall. You pointed to it when Max came up beside you again.

“The only car Lorenzo never had in his collection was the F40. I need to talk to Charles or Carlos about seeing how I can get one ethically. I want to complete the collection, but not pay far more than what it’s worth.”

Max nodded, soaking in your words. He was about to say something, but a flash of orange caught his attention. His eyes sparkled as he looked at the spaceship looking car.

“What kind of car is that?”

You smirked as you gazed on your most prize possession.

You walked closer and clicked the keys, making the car roar to life only for a second. (You don’t want to give you and Max monoxide poisoning.)

Your hand ran over the orangey hues that covered the car.

“This is the Apollo Project Evolution.”

Max looked down at the hyper car.

“What that a V12?”

“Yep. A Ferrari V12 to be exact. Three million dollars, one in ten made, over 700 horsepower, and completely street legal. I’d take you for a ride, but I would rather keep this between me and whoever knows about it.”

You turned on your heel to start walking toward the door where you walked in. “I bought it because it reminded me of the spaceship from Guardians of the Galaxy.”

Max snickered as he could imagine you at 14-years-old, watching that movie and falling in love with the space craft. Then, he imagined you last year, trying to find out how you could get your hands on it.

He took one last glance at the big room, before following you back into the house. He softly shut the big door behind him.

“Does Arthur know about this place?” he asked as he caught up to you, not wanting to get lost.

You softly smiled at him. “Yes. I brought him here after Lorenzo passed away in 2020. I just didn’t want to be alone. Vito was here as well.”

Max returned your sad smile. You and Vito had told him about the place on your way here. Tears were shed, hugs were given out, but you’d get through it.

But then he suddenly pouted at the thought of you not bringing him here earlier.

You tutted. “Don’t worry, Charles hasn’t been here if that’s what you’re pouting about.”

That brought an instant grin to his face. You rolled your eyes at his childishness. Soon, you joined Vito and Sebastian in the kitchen. Aperol Spritzes lined the kitchen counter. Your hand reached one, before Vito was thrusting an different one into your hands. You pouted when you realized that yours was probably nonalcoholic.

Sebastian snorted. “Let the kid have one.”

“Vito, what do you think they do for podiums? Make sure mine isn’t actual champagne?”

Vito rolled his eyes and handed you one from the kitchen counter. You quickly smiles and took a sip of the bubbly drink.

“So kid, did you show Max the garage?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his own drink.

You nodded as you placed your cup down. “Yep!”

“And the track?”

“You have a track!?”

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 glad to be back to my home away from home. Italia, quanto mi sei mancato. conserverai sempre ricordi preziosi e non posso ringraziarti abbastanza per amarmi da bambino. quando tornerò sarò sul podio, ne sono sicuro

(translation : italy how i've missed you. you will always hold precious memories and i can't thank you enough for loving me as a child. when i return, i'll be on the podium - i'm sure of it)

liked by sebastianvettel, vito_official, y/nlover, and 58,204 others

y/n's_fav who was going to tell me that our girl knows Italian?

y/n_updates she speaks it fluently! her godfather was Italian and taught her when she was growing up! y/n_on_top all I'm hearing is that her, Carlos, and Charles can now talk shit about Max if needed

charles_leclerc quindi Max non riesce a capire? (so max can't understand?)

y/n.89 no, quindi è ora di svelare i segreti dell'infanzia, Charlie (no, so spill the childhood secrets Charlie) carlossainz55 abbiamo molto da dire (we have a lot to tell) maxverstappen1 I CAN READ MY OWN NAME - I KNOW YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT ME y/n.89 senti qualcosa? (do you hear something?)

vito_official così felice di essere a casa. possiamo restare ancora un po'? Guido e Luigi dicono che gli manchiamo troppo (so glad to be home. can we stay a bit longer? Guido and Luigi say they miss us too much)

y/n.89 mi mancheranno così tanto. torneremo presto! (i'll miss them so much. we'll be back soon!)

sebastianvettel glad to have been able to go with you! I'll see you soon kinder!

y/n_in_italy NOT HER HOUSEKEEPERS'S NAMES BEING GUIDO AND LUIGI

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