#Zach Wellison x f!reader

[wardenparker]

In the Still of the Night, ch 3

Zach Wellison x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Grown up and looking to the future, Zach Wellison and bunkmate Shane Morrissey are working for a new cruise line that offers its guests a vintage Vegas experience on the Mediterranean. The romantic atmosphere is rubbing off on many of the crew members, and Zach finds himself to be no exception when he meets the beautiful lead singer of Shane's band.

But being wrapped in the seductive arms of an atmospheric cruise is a far cry from real life. How will their relationship fare on dry land? They can't know unless they try.

Rating: E for Explicit 18+ Word Count: 8.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, cooking, eating, discussion of clothing/costumes. Mentions of prison time served, mentions of past homelessness.* Flirting, still a little awkwardness, blindfold, sensory deprivation, foreplay, oral sex (female receiving). Summary: Your day out with Zach gets more intense at every turn. Notes: Hopefully you're all enjoying the prolonged date as much as we -- and they -- are! (As always, chapter gifs are for the vibes, not to physically describe the characters.)

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2

It isn't hard for anyone who sees you during the rest of the day to spot the dreamy couple out on a date. The older woman who shows you to your table at the restaurant Zach picked out for dinner gives you a wink in agreement that he's an absolute cutie pie and comes back a few minutes later with two glasses of wine and a candle for your table despite none of the others having one set out.

He had chosen a restaurant that was more local than tourist and had been thrilled when there was no formal dress code. Eager to sit down with you after so much walking and talk about more of anything and everything that has been the topics of the day. “So how did you start out singing?” He asks curiously.

“My elementary school had a chorus.” It might be the first time in hours you haven’t been holding hands, but you’re still smiling as you sit side by side with your wine watching the sun set. “I stuck with it because I was a kid and it was fun, then the dance lessons got added, and then as I got older I realized that I also liked theater. It became a combination.”

“So you were a theatre kid.” He nods in understanding. He hadn’t been, but he had been friends with some and understood the passion of performing even if he didn’t have it.

“That’s how I ended up in New York.” You tell him, expression twisting into something like regret. “Just another small town kid convinced they could be the next Broadway star. Obviously that didn’t happen.”

“But you tried.” He reminds you, leaning against your shoulder and wishing he could take away the sadness. “Some people never try.”

“I go between thinking that maybe I should have tried harder, and wondering why I ever bothered at all.” With that offer of support there, you lean against his shoulder in turn and shrug gently. “It is what it is, I guess. But…how did you start cooking?”

Zach sighs softly, knowing that it would eventually come up. “Actually, I just started cooking a few years ago.” He admits.

“You did?” That surprises you enough to turn your head and look at him more fully. “So it’s just at natural talent, then?”

“I guess?” He shrugs slightly. “I got a job working in a kitchen. Saved my life.” He tells you. “Threw myself into it and experimented as much as I could and read everything I could get my hands on.”

“So you stumbled into your calling.” There is something else there, something he doesn’t want to tell you, so you don’t push. “That’s wonderful, though. Some people never find what they’re meant to do in their whole lives.”

“It helps with my anxiety.” He admits with a self deprecating grin. “So I decided that it was the best thing for me. One day I’d like to have a restaurant. One that I can plan every detail, down to free meals for the homeless.”

“I love that.” Without hesitation, the idea is not only a kind one but one you can tell means a great deal to him. “Some places have a system where you can pay for meals for others in advance, too. System like that can be used to pay for extra supplies so no one ever has to be turned away.”

“That would be amazing.” He’s had benefited from that kind of system before, but not often. And he knows how uplifting a good, hot meal can be when you are down.

"You can make it happen." Something in your gut tells you that he can and he will, and even though you have no stake in it, you can't help but feel proud of him for that.

“I’m hoping.” He flashes you a grateful grin. Even your confidence in him sounds so sure when he’s always wondered if he can succeed. “The club on the ship has given me so many ideas.”

"I've been eating your ideas," you remind him with a grin. "And they're fantastic. You're really good, Zach. Any place would be lucky to have you and any team would be lucky to have you lead them."

“What about you?” He asks. “This has to be a stepping stone for you. I’ve already heard from the crew that you might have some head hunters after you.” One of the passengers was apparently connected in the music industry and had been in to the club several nights.

"If I do, that's news to me." Whatever murmurings Zach has heard, you haven't. But you would be lying if you claimed not to be curious. "I don't know, honestly. I think I would rather be a headliner in a little club than wave a rose in a Broadway chorus for the rest of my life. But the chances of either are relatively slim." You take a sip of your wine and offer him a smile, shrugging one shoulder. "In my dreams I'm getting top billing in the biggest musicals and you're running the most popular restaurant in the country. Ultimate New York City power couple."

“That sounds amazing.” Zach chuckles. “Actually, running this style club, I think it would work in New York.” He tells you. “A dinner club.”

"I know it's something that you see in retirement communities in Florida, but I have always loved dinner theater." His laugh is sweet and deep and rolls through you like a wave of joy. "This club is such a great gig for people like us."

“Yes it is, but imagine….” He sighs softly. “Creating a headliner show like you would see in Vegas, right in New York and pairing it with a daily changing menu like we do here.”

"New York would love a show like that." It sounds so doable when he says it. Like a dream you could reach for and pluck out of the sky.

“It would be sold out.” He agrees, flashing a hopeful smile. “One day, maybe if I had the right singer to run the show side of things.”

"I guess you're going to have to get to know some singers then, aren't you?" His bright smile is reflected right back at him, teasing as always but it's because part of you can't dare to dream this big for yourself. Only for him.

“I will.” He nods and shrugs. “Maybe hold auditions or something. Singing for your supper?”

"That's what most of us do." You agree, not wanting your smile to flicker at all even if the memories sting. "Sometimes literally."

Zach catches the change, the dimming of the light in your eyes and he knows that he’s touched on a sensitive topic for you. “I get it.” He promises quietly. “I think I gravitated towards cooking because I knew if I was making food for others, I would not have that gnawing ache of hunger ever again.” He licks his lips. “Food insecurity, the therapist called it.”

Your heart sinks, chest tightening, and you nod as you slip your hand back into his. "I wish I was more surprised to find out that more than a few of us have been there. But a job like ours...with guaranteed housing and meals and a way to save money for months at a time? It makes sense that it would attract people who have had it hard."

Of course you would be understanding. His eyes close as he nods, feeling a little choked up by the compassion in your voice and the understanding in your touch. “Absolutely. And I hate that you’ve had a moments bad luck.” He murmurs. “You deserve so much.”

"So do you." You squeeze his hand gently. "Bad luck doesn't make us bad people."

“Not at all.” His hand slips from yours and his arm wraps around your shoulders protectively. “Now - before we start choking up, what do you want to try?” He wants this date to be nothing but a lovely moment for you and he tries to steer the conversation to more positive thoughts.

Without saying another word about it, you turn your head to kiss his cheek and refocus on the menu in his hands. They have enough tourists in town that the menu from this restaurant has one-sentence item descriptions in English that simply tell non-Greek speakers the main ingredients of each dish. A quick glance around you shows you that everything here seems to be served family style, and you settle in Zach's side again happily.

"How does this sound?" You ask, pointing out the special. Gamopilafo. The menu says, with Arnáki Stamnagathi. "Greek risotto with lamb and vegetables?"

“That sounds amazing.” Zach groans happily and nods. “Do you want to get that and something else?” He doesn’t want you to share with him if you are just trying to make the bill cheaper, he can afford paying for dinner.

"It looks like it's family style? Maybe we can get another side dish to go with it so we can try more?" You shrug slightly, knowing that food was just a topic of some stress for both of you. "Sharing sounds nice. But not if you don't want to."

“I’m not opposed to sharing at all.” He promises, leaning in and nudging his nose to yours. “I’ll share anything with you.”

"Promises, promises." It's too tempting to have him close and not indulge in another kiss, but you keep it short and chaste in case Zach isn't too into public displays of affection. The half dozen or so kisses that you have shared today have been relatively private so you want to respect that for him.

Zach smiles, beams really. “What else do you want, baby?” The term of endearment slips out, but he doesn’t try to take it back or apologize. Feeling like it’s just the natural next step of this amazing day.

While the honest answer is him, that isn't what he's asking so you pull yourself out of the dirty thoughts you've been having on and off all damn day and look back down at the menu. In the top section there is something that lists cheese, fruit, bread, and flavored local olive oil, so you point that out. "Cretan charcuterie plate to start?"

“I think that’s a good idea.” Zach agrees and smiles at you. “We can see if we can come up with our own ideas for a board.”

"We'll have enough menu ideas for three new restaurants if we let our imaginations wander." Which is not a bad thing at all, but it does have both of you grinning when the waitress comes over to take your order.

Zach orders for the both of you, checking in with his eyes to make sure that it’s everything you want and hands the menu over with a pleasant smile for the waitress. Enjoying the knowing glances she shoots between the two of you. “I think that she thinks we are newlyweds or something.” He confesses quietly when she walks away. “What do you think?”

“Maybe.” Don’t be so you, you remind yourself for the hundredth time in your head. “I don’t know how many people come around here being cuddly on a fantastic day-long first date.”

“It has been fantastic, hasn’t it?” He muses, reminding himself that neither one of you has walked away or even been upset today. Not really.

“I think so.” There are clearly more things to talk about in your future, but today has left you optimistic that that future could exist. “I’m glad you do, too.”

“So, what’s your favorite type of wine?” He asks. “With charcuterie? Are you a white wine or sangria girl?”

“I’m a whatever wine you serve me kind of girl,” you tell him with an amused laugh. “But I do love sangria. There are very few things that aren’t made better with a glass of sangria or a margarita.”

“A margarita; huh?” He smirks. “Salt on the rim or sugar?”

“Depends on the flavor.” After all, your palate isn’t nonexistent, it’s just uneducated. “But usually salt.”

“A watermelon margarita is my favorite.” He admits. “Salt and sugar on the rim.”

“Salt and sugar?” That has you raising an eyebrow. “Color me intrigued.”

“It’s delicious.” He chuckles. “Goes with a hamburger or ribs. Drinks just like water.”

“That sounds incredible.” It sounds absolutely mouthwatering, actually, and you crack a grin. “Maybe I’m just really hungry.”

“Next crew party why don’t we do sliders and margaritas?” He offers. “I think you’d love it.”

“It sounds amazing.” You can agree to that without hesitation. “But I would also eat an old sneaker if it came out of your kitchen, so just know I’m always here for your food.”

“So boil shoe leather.” He pretends to make a note and laughs when you shove him playfully.

“You boil shoe leather and I’ll sing scales off key. Our worst work night ever.”

Zach throws his head back and laughs. The deep, belly laugh of a man who is completely convinced that it possible could happen and finds it up-roaringly funny. “You’re perfect.”

“You’re perfect.” He doesn’t need to know that a musical lyric sprung to mind instantly. He doesn’t need to know that you’ve been thinking it for an hour or more now. But you do hope he knows that the absolute affection shining in your eyes is honest and real.

He hums, not exactly able to take a compliment as well as he can give one. Instead he clinks his wine glass against yours. “To being perfect together.” He offers with a smile.

Neither of you take compliments well, you note with a smile, but drink deeply from your glass and enjoy a private smile that he unknowingly completed the thought of the song lyric in your head. “I know you’re supposed to wait until the end of the date to say it,” you set down your glass, thank the waitress when she brings over the first course, and restart your thought after a few seconds. “But I really think we should do this again.”

Zach’s heart leaps at your comment, happy that you have said that. “Well, of course we should.” He agrees, winking at you as he starts to dip a crusty piece of bread into the seasoned olive oil. “But I was thinking maybe we spend a little more time together on the ship when we can?”

"We could always skip the crew parties now and then to have time to ourselves." Following suit, you dive into the cheese board along with him. The cured olives and soft cheese are calling your name. "I wouldn't mind that at all."

“I mainly go to the crew parties to see you.” Zach confesses with a shy smile, offering you the dipped bread after he’s spread a bit of goat’s cheese on top of it.

"I–" Your eyes drop, your whole face heats, and you clear your throat before offering him an olive that you have stuffed with a pinch of soft sheep's milk cheese. "I go to the crew parties to see you."

Zach snorts and shakes his head. “We are pathetic.” He teases. “Mooning over each other and not even aware of it until Shane makes you take me a drink.”

"He tried to tell me," you admit after trying the bite that Zach made for you. Like everything else he's ever fed you, it's perfect. "I just...didn't really think I had a shot."

“He would always talk about you.” He huffs. “Making that crush I was suffering under nearly unbearable.” He smirks. “I guess he was hoping to push me into making a move.”

“And when you didn’t, he pushed me instead.” Which is a very Shane thing to do, really. He’s always been a little bit too cocky for his own good. “He’s like my big brother. So it makes perfect sense that he would meddle endlessly.”

“He basically adopted me once we became roommates.” Zach agrees. “He’s a good guy with a surprisingly big heart.”

“It took him a while to get there,” you acknowledge, not quite knowing how much of Shane’s story he had shared with Zach. “But now that he has? He’ll be damned if he doesn’t help everyone that he can.”

“Yeah.” Zach nods. “From what he’s told me, he’s completely different than when he was first sent away.”

“He showed me a picture once. Oh how he dresses and everything back then.” Just keeping the topic about appearance is lighthearted. That way you don’t dip too far into past seriousness. “Even if that was the only thing that changed, he really is a completely different guy now.”

“Jet black hair.” Zach snorts, shaking his head. “Dude has amazing hair now. I’m a little jealous of it.” Shane still has earrings, but he’s no longer sporting the goth edge he had back in his younger years.

“Do you ever think about growing yours out?” Zach still has short-trimmed hair that is probably a cinch to take care of, but he might look great with it longer.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve worn it long.” He admits, rubbing his hand up the back of his head. “Since high school.” He snorts. “But I’ve not given it a lot of thought, honestly. Why? You think it would look good longer?” He asks, curious about your preferences. Everyone has them, it’s like preferring clean shaven over a beard.

“I caught myself wondering once if your hair was curly when it grows out,” you admit, clearing your throat a little from being flustered. Admitting that you’ve wondered and daydreamed about him is a big step to your mind.

“Yeah?” A slow, pleased grin starts to stretch across his face as he turns back towards you again. “Daydreaming about running your fingers through my hair?”

“Maybe.” The huff in your voice is pure embarrassment, though you’re glad that he seems to like the idea rather than being weirded out by it.

“Then I have to confess something…” he drops his voice down to a whisper like it’s a secret. “I really love when the hairdresser runs her fingers through my hair when cutting it.”

It feels like a far more visceral tease than you’ve been giving him, and you can practically feel how soft his shirt hair is when your eyes flick up to it. “Noted,” you manage to huff out a second later, banishing the mental image of Zach beneath you as you card your fingers through growing curls.

He smirks and winks at you when you manage to look at him again, finding it incredibly empowering to know that you are on the same level as he is. Both of you wanting so much, but being too shy to reach for it. Someone will have to make a move, but right now, he’s enjoying the flirting and bantering.

Neither of you seem to care much that it takes longer to make bites out of your appetizer if you hold hands, enjoying the small show of intimacy more than anything else. You're loathe to give up that connection now that you have it.

Zach enjoys sharing with you. Often making bites for you to try, and he smiles every time you groan in pleasure.

“Just because I have no idea how to cook anything doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it,” you insist, and you’re laughing together when your waitress brings out your shared entree. The large and shallow bowl is obviously meant to be shared but is beautifully arranged — vegetables bringing color with the creamy risotto-like grains and tantalizingly seared and roasted lamb.

“Many blessings.” She is smiling at both of you as she puts the food down between you. “Happy marriage to young love.”

“Thank you.” Zach doesn’t correct her, beaming instead and bringing up your hand and kissing the back of it. If they believe that you are newlyweds, who are you to disclaim it?

Seeing him go with the assumption instead of correcting the woman makes your heart swell. There is something deeply soft and intimate about the gesture and you’re sure you must look so deeply entranced by your date that protesting wouldn’t do any good anyway.

“Soulmates?” The older woman asks, looking at the two of you with the pride of a grandmother.

Zach bites his lip, unsure of how to answer that, so he just wings it. “What do you think?” He asks, reaching out and caressing your cheek. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

"Very." The woman agrees, and with another proud smile she clasps both of your shoulders and heads off again to the kitchen with the purpose and speed of someone off to share vital gossip.

Zach smiles at you. “Well, I guess that makes us official.” He hums. “What do you think?” He asks, lifting a brow. “Want to be my girlfriend? Or should we jump straight to soulmate and wife?” He asks. “We’ve already gotten approval here.”

"It might be a little dramatic to show back up to the ship married." And yet you're grinning. You're absolutely beaming at him in a way that can't possibly be contained and for the first time today you don't want it to be. "But I love the sound of girlfriend."

“I’m sure we wouldn’t have been the first couple to have done that.” He doesn’t take offense to you ignoring the remark about soulmates. He’s seen you without sleeves enough to know that you don’t have his tattoo. You can’t be his soulmate, but he is drawn to you like he’s never been to another woman. “But girlfriend sounds perfect to me too.”

"I'm not one of those people that swears soulmates are the only possible relationship," you explain, as the two of you rearrange your little table to share your entree comfortably. The waitress had also brought you fresh drinks so the little table is loaded down with tantalizing options. "My parents aren't soulmates and they've been happily married for almost forty years. It's a great thing, but I always thought choosing your person yourself was more important than anything else."

“Interesting.” Zach is impressed and he nods. “I know that soulmates aren’t everything, but my parents were.” He tells you, smiling a little sadly. “They were probably the best relationship I’ve ever seen.”

"We both had good role models for healthy relationships. That's far more rare than it should be, I think." You note the past tense in his words but don't push, instead watching as he carefully serves the meal onto the two smaller plates you were given.

The lamb smells amazing and Zach is already drooling, imagining what he could make. “Are you ready to give me ideas?” He teases as he looks up from finishing plating.

"Dinner ideas?" You raise an eyebrow at him and pick up your fork, feeling bold with the help of the waitress who broke the ice and managed to make you Zach's girlfriend with a touch of cute teasing. "Or dirty ideas?"

“I accept all ideas.” Zach promises, his voice dipping down slightly, turning sensual.

"Fuck." Even just a quiet groan of frustration from you is enough to let him know exactly where you're at. Every single time he kisses you, you're convinced that you're going to soak through your shorts, and you no longer care if he knows it or not.

“I’ve been thinking about something.” Zach starts, forking up a bite of the risotto and trying it with a groan of approval.

"Tell me." There have been a few more serious topics touched on today without delving too deep, but you have faith that whatever it is that's on his mind won't be bad.

“We don’t have to be back on the ship until tomorrow morning.” The club is closed for the night while in port since the majority of the passengers are on shore. “What do you think about not going back tonight?”

"Like...find a little hotel?" Your fork is halfway to your mouth when you meet his eyes, seeing that there is the same spark of desire there as in your own. "That would certainly be more comfortable than using one of our bunks after we kick our roommate out," you agree, letting a grin crawl across your face.

“We don’t have to.” He stresses, not wanting you to feel like he expects to spend the night with you.

"I know." But you shrug with just a touch of guilt. "And if you want to wait that's totally fine. But...I definitely want to."

“I want to.” He is quick to reassure you of that. “I really want to. I just—” he bandied about for the right words. “Didn’t want to come off as pushy.”

"Pushy is normally my problem." you promise him. "The other part of Shane's whole 'be less you' advice was not rolling up to our first date and telling you we would make beautiful children." It's still of a hell of a way to come on strong so you laugh it off, but it's true all the same. "You've been anything but pushy, baby."

“You would have beautiful babies with Shrek.” He snorts, shaking his head. “My genes would have nothing to do with it.”

"Don't count yourself out." The grin on your face slides sideways and the two of you dig into your dinner in earnest. "Those curls of yours on a little baby? Cuties."

He blushes slightly, imagining how a baby with you would look. It’s a fantasy that he never even imagined being able to consider just a few years ago. “Only because of you. And most babies are cuties anyway.”

“They are.” That’s just a fact as far as you’re concerned. The two of you continue to eat for another minute or so before your mind catches up with all the possible consequences of that topic coming up and you almost stutter as you reach for your wine glass. “I’m—I’m on birth control, though,” you point out. Like he might think you’re trying to baby trap him on the first date just because you think babies are cute. “That’s…like I want kids eventually but I’m not crazy about it.”

This is happening. Zach swallows a bite of the deliciously fragrant and juicy lamb so he doesn’t choke. “Good. I mean, I would still want to wear a- birth control shouldn’t just be on you.” He tells you. “I’m clean, but I- it’s always good to- you know, uh, be safe.”

“I’m clean too, and if you feel more comfortable with a condom that’s totally fine, I just—” Who knows if more wine is actually a good idea at this point but you take about gulp out of nerves. “I didn’t want you to think I had any motivation for…you know…tonight, other than really liking you.”

He has to laugh at that, reaching for your hand and winking at you. “You’re focusing on your career. I don’t think that your grand plan is to be knocked up by the chef of the club you headline your first contract out.” He promises.

“Well when you say it like that it sounds silly.” And yet? A part of you is certain, beyond any doubt whatsoever, that if it happened you could be such a happy little family.

He smirks slightly and reaches over to brush off a tiny bit of sauce on the edge of your mouth. “So we both know where we stand.” He hums. “Let’s just relax and enjoy where our night takes us.”

******

With the sun set and your meal finished, an intimacy has settled over you and Zach as you sip your coffee together and listen to the busy streets of Knossos bustle with tourists and nightlife. Normally you would be part of that. You would be out with friends or searching out a feeling to get lost in — but today has been so thorough in proving that you can simply get lost in Zach that you don’t want to stray. Everything you could possibly want for your night is right here next to you. And it’s a type of calming feeling that you don’t know you’ve ever felt with another person before.

“That was probably the best meal I’ve ever eaten.” Zach rubs his stomach appreciatively and looks over at you. “Lamb on the menu for the club?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” You’ll eat anything he cooks anyway. But having it be a special memory between the two of you? That’s worth bragging about. “With those whipped carrots you made yesterday? Oh my god.”

“You liked those?” He grins, loving feedback as much as the next person and if it comes from you it makes it even sweeter. “I’ve been thinking about making it a soufflé and putting a topping on it. Similar to a sweet potato soufflé? What do you think? Too much?”

“I don’t know,” you admit with a grin spreading across your face. “I’ve never had a soufflé before.”

“You’ve never had a sweet potato casserole?” His eyes widen. “You’re shitting me?”

You shrug weakly, yet can’t help but laugh at how strong his reaction is. “My dad hates sweet potatoes,” you explain between giggles. “We basically ate like toddlers in my house forever, because he only liked four or five foods.”

“Wow.” He chuckles. “So I know what I’m making you tomorrow.” He grins. “Roasted chicken with sweet potato soufflé, creamed spinach and a fresh cranberry compote.”

“We just ate.” Sure, your tone is complaining, but the teasing is clear and sparkling in your eyes. “Why do you have to make me hungry all over again?”

Laughing, he leans over slightly to pull his wallet out to pay. Having cash is something of a safety net to him, although he’s proud of the shiny credit card with a low limit as he builds his credit back up. Offers have started coming for pre-approval of credit limits, but he’s resisted getting one so far. He pays this card off every month like clockwork. “I’ll let you sleep it off first.” He promises.

A different woman comes out with your check and a small folded bag. She smiles when she sees Zach ready to pay, and hands you the bag. “Congratulations,” she explains in a thick but clear accent. “From my grandparents. They’re very flattered you chose their restaurant for your honeymoon.”

Zach immediately feels guilty. “No— nothing is necessary.” He promises, shaking his head. “We are happy to be here. The food was amazing.”

"It's just a few cookies," she promises, apparently charmed by the display of manners. "And we're always glad to have kind guests."

“Everyone here has been wonderful.” Zach smiles as he hands over his card. “Now we just need to find a hotel with people as wonderful.”

"You don't have a place to stay already?" The bill is easily and silently settled with the exchange of a few bills between them and the woman points down the beach to a three-story white building on the edge of the beach. "Dite is a beautiful hotel. Small. But very nice. And you will see the perfect sunrise in your room."

“What do you think, sweetheart?” He asks, turning towards you. “I think it sounds just about perfect, if they have a room available.”

“Small sounds perfect.” In fact, after the bustle of the ship, it sounds like a small relief. “Thank you for the suggestion.”

“I will call for you.” She offers. “Family.”

“That would be wonderful.” You look to Zach for confirmation. “The hotel is my treat. I promise.”

He huffs, frowning slightly at the notion of you paying and there is a grin on the woman’s face as she nods in approval. “I will go call right now and let them know you are coming.” She beams before scampering off.

“It’s okay.” Sensing a bit of hurt pride that you dismiss as typically male, you lean over and kiss Zach’s cheek. “You can buy our breakfast.”

He can’t tell you that it’s because he somehow still looks at someone paying for something – even if it benefits them – as a handout. That is way too deep for this date and probably means he needs to schedule a visit with the VA therapist next time he’s in New York. “Sounds good, sweetheart.” He hums.

It only takes a few minutes for the younger waitress to return, and when she does she is smiling broadly. To Zach she hands a slip with the name and address of the hotel. “They’re getting your room ready now,” she tells you both gladly.

“Thank you.” He smiles. “For everything.”

“Our pleasure.” She assures him, and trots off again after saying good night.

He turns towards you and gives you a searching look. “Are you ready?”

"Absolutely." Considering you can see the hotel from here, you don't mind walking. A stroll through the streets of the ancient city, hand in hand with your newly minted boyfriend? It sounds perfect to you.

Zach scoots out of the seat and holds out his hand to you. “Then let’s walk off this amazing dinner.”

The roads and the beach stretch on longer than you anticipate but the walk is welcome. You're most quiet, enjoying each other's company without the need to fill the air with idle conversation. You take in the city around you and the overwhelming number of tourists. The hustle and the bustle is beautiful, but something about the fact that you can be comfortable in the quiet with Zach brings and unexpected extra layer of intimacy to the night.

Walking hand in hand is intimate, serene. He doesn’t feel the need to make excuses or fill the silence, he just enjoys the way the smiles seem to be just for you as a couple, coming from others who pass you on the streets.

The hotel is clean and bright, and the extended family of the folks who owned the restaurant are as sweet as can be when you check in. They’ve put you in a top floor room facing the ocean and promise you it’s their best, and you and Zach take the stairs up after thanking them once more.

“I feel bad.” Zach muses. “They think we are on our honeymoon.”

“First dates can be just as special as honeymoons, right?” You offer as you make your way down the hall to your room. “I checked their rates online and it was the same as what we paid. So they’re not giving us big discounts or anything. If they had, I would have said something.”

“Good.” He feels better about that and his stomach twists in nervous anticipation. You both had stopped in a little shop where he had purchased a small box of condoms. They feel heavy in his pocket.

“Hey.” The leaden heaviness sits between you as you unlock the door to your room and push it open. Before you even make a move to step inside, you settle your hand on Zach’s arm and offer him a soft, reassuring smile. “Just because we want to doesn’t mean we have to tonight, okay? We can decide to just hang out and cuddle and sleep beside each other and it will still be perfect.”

“Are you having second thoughts?” He asks seriously, trying not to look disappointed, because he doesn’t want that to pressure you.

“Not at all.” You’re quick to assure him of that, pushing open the door and stepping inside. “You just seem…nervous? I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong.”

“Afraid of disappointing you.” He admits with a small huff of amusement at himself as he flashes you a grin. “It’s been a while for me.”

"Then I'm flattered you would choose me to be the one to break that dry spell with." It really is a vote of confidence from him, and you won't take that for granted. Despite the fact that you don't understand how in the hell anyone has ever let him go, you're glad to be the person that is here and ready to see all of the potential he has as a partner.

“I would be fucking crazy not to.” Zach snorts, shaking his head. “Baby you are gorgeous and kind, and everything I don’t deserve.”

"Hey now." You shake your head as you shut the door behind the two of you, flipping the lock and feeling the shiver of anticipation roll through you. But still, hearing him put himself down is the last thing you're comfortable with and when you turn back to Zach you slide your hands up his arms gently. "I wouldn't let somebody else talk about you like that, what makes you think you get to?"

“Habit.” He admits, biting his lip and reaching for your waist to draw you closer. “I’m working on it.”

"I'm here to remind you how incredible you are anytime you need." A strong support system means everything, you learned that the hard way. And you're more than happy to be that for Zach.

“Thanks.” There’s a bit gratefulness and quite a bit of amazement in his eyes as he looks at you. “You are absolutely amazing, you know that?” He asks. “You take my breath away.”

Your hands creep up his arms, sliding around his neck so your fingers can sink into his short, soft hair. "I'd be happy to do that for you literally, if you'd like."

“How would you do that?” He has a pretty good idea, but he wants to hear what you have in mind.

The hum that leaves your lips as you press your body against his is full of promise. "I'd start at the top and work my way down, of course," you tell him, bringing Zach down to meet your lips for a searing kiss.

He can’t help but groan, a grown man melting against you, but he’s already weak in the knees from the passion in just this one kiss. The sense of complete rightness that washes over him as his own arms band around you tighter and he starts to give back to you.

None of the kisses you had shared yet today had been allowed to be this deep. You were in public. You were sharing space with other people. And this is so intensely intimate. It would have felt wrong just to let other people see your naked heart out there on your sleeve. But when it is just the two of you locked safely away in the privacy of a hotel room? You would be a puddle at his feet if it weren’t for the uncanny strength of him holding you tight against his chest.

It’s not hard for his body to respond instantly. He’s already lived most of the day in a state of arousal just being around you. But with the length of your body pressed against his and your tongue coaxing his further into your mouth? He is rock hard and aching. Groaning slightly as he turns both of you towards where the bed should be based on the split second examination of the room earlier.

And just like that you feel ignited. The press of his body against yours as he steers you blindly through around the room is an errant spark that seems to catch on every inch of you. With one hand your fingers card and tug in his hair, nails grazing over his scalp. With the other you pull his shoulders to keep him impossibly close — feeling like you’ll forget to breathe if you stop sharing gasps with him between kisses.

You taste like sweet wine and cream. A perfect combination when mixed with something that is just…you. He can’t describe it, but it’s warm and earthy.

The backs of your legs bump against the bed frame, almost toppling you over and making you hang onto Zach all the more tightly, giggling into the kiss. “Oops,” You can’t help but laugh at how deeply uncoordinated it was, even as out of breath as you are. “Weak knees aren’t very stable, apparently.”

“Then we should lay down.” Zach suggests, grinning against your lips and starting to crouch down.

It doesn’t exactly take convincing. Not when every single time he’s kissed you today has turned you a soaking wet, needy mess. The fact that you finally get to do something about it is exhilarating and relieving all at once. “Hell yes,” you agree, nearly hauling him into the bed with you when you try to kiss him and move at the same time.

He laughs when you both nearly topple over, flopping down on your sides in a move that is not nearly as graceful as he had planned in his mind. “Eager?” He asks. Sliding his hand down your side to your ass.

“Oh, absolutely.” You smirk, but shift your leg ever so slightly so your thigh presses against the front of his shorts. “Just as much as you are.”

“Baby, have you looked in the mirror?” Zach groans, twitching under the pressure. “You’re a complete knockout and fucking sweet as pie.”

“As long as you like what you see, the mirror doesn’t matter.” What you see and what he sees looking at you will never be quite the same, so as long as he likes the version of you that he sees, you’re fine with it.

Zach doesn’t say anything else, he just slowly leans in and presses his lips to yours softly.

It’s such a sweet, gentle gesture that you melt deeper into the mattress. For that one moment there are no thoughts at all left in your head. It’s just Zach and the possibilities.

He follows you, body half covering yours as he lets the kiss deepen slightly. Not too much, but he squeezes your ass gently as he grinds into you.

The roll of his hips earns him a moan, and he swallows it up eagerly so you give him another and hitch one leg up to let him get closer.

He presses deeper into you, slotting his hips between yours as you open up and he gasps into your mouth when his hard cock presses against the heat of your core.

The heat in your belly flares hotter, wicking all the way Down your limbs, and you whimper again because you have no prayer of a coherent sentence or even word in that moment. There’s horny and eager then there’s whatever the hell you are as you grind your hips against his to beg for more.

It’s juvenile, but grinding against you over clothes while he kisses you is the height of eroticism right now. He groans into your mouth before breaking away, wanting to taste every inch of your skin.

He trails kisses along your jaw and throat, making your back arch and stealing your breath all over again. While he begins to travel south you tug at his shirt, trying to tear the damn thing off while your whole body aches for him.

Zach smiles against your skin, cutting his eyes up at you playfully. “You’re too impatient” he teases, pulling away. “Think I’ll blindfold you.”

You pout instantly, but the idea is intriguing enough that you raise an eyebrow at him. “Do I get to see you eventually?”

“Eventually.” He smirks, loving that you are going along with his little idea. “That way you can accurately judge how good I am.”

“I can’t judge your skills with my eyes open?” Delighted to have found him not so very vanilla after all, you let the hand you still have in his hair tug in his curls and grin when he moans.

“You might be overwhelmed by my good looks.” He chuckles and shakes his head. One of the things that made him suggest this is his tattoo. He didn’t want to have a ton of questions about it right now. This wasn’t the time for remembering the past, but enjoying the present.

“Is this a ‘hands off’ situation, too? Or can I at least still touch you?” There are plenty of things you’re willing to try out that you already know you enjoy that people might consider out of the ordinary, but the first time with a new partner you want to feel them in every way.

“You can touch me.” He promises. “I’m just feeling a little shy right now.” He jokes playfully, winking at you. “Don’t want you to get too scared.”

“You have nothing you need to be shy about, but I fully respect having a few hang ups. I’ve got plenty, too.” Reluctantly as you are to take your hands off of him, you reach for your belt instead — or rather, the long sash of fabric that you tied through your belt loops today because you thought it looked a little cuter than a standard belt. “Use this.”

“Are you sure?” He takes the fabric from your hands and holds it up to his eyes playfully.

“I trust you.” You trust him somehow inherently. As though it were as simple as trusting yourself. In a way that sticks in your chest and warms through you like hot cocoa in winter.

He watches you for a moment after pulling the scarf down from his face, “Okay.” He agrees. “I just want this to be something we never forget.”

“I can already guarantee I will never forget any part of today,” you promise him, shivering slightly with anticipation as he settles your former belt gently over your eyes.

He ties it firmly, but not too tight. If you need it off, all you need to do is slip it up your forehead or pull it down. The point of this is to be fun, to explore without judgement and he can’t do that if you are uncomfortable. “Hopefully that’s a good thing and it doesn’t go into your ‘worst dates’ catalog.” He jokes before he slides his hands down to the edge of your shirt to push it up your stomach and drop a kiss right above your belly button.

With every small touch now heightened, your skin tingles with the scrap of his calloused fingers and press of the feather-light kiss. “I don’t fuck on the first date unless it’s a really fucking good date.”

“Me either.” Zach smirks against your skin before he decides to nip your side slightly, laughing quietly when you jump and gasp at the grazing of his teeth. Instead of working down, he decides to work up and nuzzles just under the band of your bra.

One hand blindly makes its way to his shoulder again, grasping the thick cords of muscle there and reminding you just how powerful this broad man is that is being so tender and playful with you. At this point it’s Zach’s game — to explore and to pleasure and to discover — and every point of contact between you is a spark catching fire.

It takes just a second to discover that your bra hooks in the front, to Zach's utter delight, making it easy to unbind your breasts and capture a nipple in his mouth before your shirt is even off or your straps slid down your arms.

The heat and pressure of Zach’s mouth feels boiling even on this warm night, sending you gasping and cursing as you grip his shoulder tighter. If you get any wetter your shorts might outright dissolve, but he would probably consider that a bragging right.

Zach groans against your nipple, loving the little arch to your back, pushing your breast to his mouth more. Offering yourself up.

There is no steady rhythm to any of it as Zach works to take you apart piece by piece. He has a method in his madness, surely, but you are breathless and moaning as he reduces you to a human puddle on the bedsheets. While you can’t see him like this you can definitely feel him, and your hands tug at his shirt again to get that luscious skin-on-skin sensation as he starts to travel down your body.

He takes his time, learning the sensitive spots on your body and enjoying every soft sound he pulls out of your mouth. Until he is dragging your shorts down your legs.

It’s about fucking time says the impatient voice in your head as you squirm in the bed and lift your hips to help him move things along. He’s consented to take his shirt off, at least, so that warmth that rolls off of him in waves can seep directly into your bones. You whimper as the cool breeze of exposure hits your overheated cunt, dripping with need and aching for attention.

“Fuck, you look so pretty right now.” Zach groans at the sight of your wet lips, hair trimmed and manicured. You either were hoping that the night would end this way, or you were very meticulous about your grooming. He’s kind of hoping for the former even though he wouldn’t care if you had done anything. “Baby, you look good enough to eat.”

“Tease.” You whine, trying to sound huffy but only succeeding in strangling another moan when his breath ghosts over your swollen pussy. Even with his hands caressing your thighs, you’re squirming.

It’s been a long goddamn time since Zach has had a pussy in his face, but he loves the musky scent of your wet sex. Making him twitch and groan as he slowly spreads your lips wide for him to drag his tongue up your folds for that first, tantalizing lick.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” With your back arching and your fingers tight in his hair, it’s so easy to lose yourself to one little taste.

He makes a sound of pleasure as he flicks his tongue over your clit and comes back for another pass. This time starting lower and letting his tongue tease your entrance before sliding higher.

If you weren’t blindfolded already you might have cum just from the sight of him. His lips and tongue explore while his hands keep you steady, holding you in place so the buck of your hips doesn’t unseat him before he can really get going.

He absorbs your sound, your taste. The very essence of your being, feasted on as he slowly and thoroughly licks through you like a meal he is savoring.

It’s a stunning combination of thorough exploration and eager enthusiasm that has you writing and moaning his name so quickly. You could have had a date yesterday and everything about tonight would already be better. Zach seems somehow to know exactly what you like without asking, reading your signals perfectly air pushing you higher and higher until his name is the only word on your lips.

Zach is completely entranced by the way you respond to his touch, never having a lover he feels so in-sync with. It’s like he’s touched you a million times before rather than just these last few minutes.

The whole world has stopped existing around you. It's just you and Zach and this bed and every new height of pleasure that he keeps building you to. The press of his hands on your hips, the deep push of his tongue, the sharp half-scrape of his teeth near your clit that he's discovered makes you gasp and moan.

“Cum for me baby.” He pulls away to gasp his plea, the need to see you fall apart about to rupture in his veins and make him go mad. His grip tightening on your hips and he dives back into your cunt with the desperation of a man starved that’s reached his oasis.

You don't have to tell me twice, you would say if you could swim through the thick mire of bliss to tease him. Instead, and much more true to the moment, you let out a sobbing moan and beg for just a little bit more to send you over the edge.

He hears the unspoken plea in your whimpers and opens his mouth wider to just devour you. Burying himself into your pussy where his nose is blocked by your mound as he pushes you over the edge and if he died in this moment, he would die blissfully happy.

Your back arches fiercely one more time, lifting your shoulders off the bed as you hit that sharp crest that explodes into your climax. All of your muscles tense and curses spill freely, interspersed with his name and moans entirely without words – until that crest becomes altogether too much, the thread mercifully snaps, and you fall back on the mattress an utterly satisfied puddle.

Zach is slow to pull his mouth away. Savoring the little tremors that race through your thighs and makes your pussy clench against his chin as he laps at your juices one last time before he lifts his head with a groan of satisfaction. “And just think, we’ve only started.” He hums playfully, knowing that the night has just begun.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

ItSotN: @greenwitchfromthewoods @copperhalfcent @ariavitiellos @spishsstuff @76bookworm76

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2024: October 16th

Day 16: Nipple Play // Cock Worship // Lactation 

Zach Wellison x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Cock worship, praise, fondling, kissing, licking, ball sucking

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You can tell that Zach has never had this kind of attention before. His eyes are wide and fixed on you. Dilated and dark with need as his chest heaves, the glistening of a light sheen of sweat making his skin look dewy. 

“Baby, I don’t need-” His head rolls back and another soft moan falls out of his slack mouth, almost lazily as your tongue drags up the side of his cock again. 

Months ago this man had burst into your life, protective and comforting. Down on his own luck but willing to step in front of you and act like a shield. The honor that had been instilled in him on a drill field for the Marines in San Diego still visible underneath the tired misfortune. 

He had been grateful and uneasy about accepting the help you had offered, but he had done it anyway. Never one to take it for granted, to expect things. He had improved his own life through hard words and improved yours by just being a good friend. Only for those feelings that had been brewing between you to finally bubble up one night and turn into passion. 

Now you are here, showing him how much you adore him, how worthy he is for love and affection. For physicality. He had been nearly touch-starved when you first slept together, his own insecurities playing a large part of that, and you have made it a mission to prove to him that he deserves someone who gives him as much love as he has given you. 

“Yes you do.” You coo when your tongue flicks back into your mouth and you grin up at him, watching his head flop back to his chest and his eyes open lazily to watch you. Glazed over with lust and love, cheeks flushed a pretty hue and deepened when you wink at him. 

Sometimes you think that he never imagined you being so filthy. So dirty. It was like you had been placed on a pedestal in his mind, unobtainable and never willing to degrade yourself by doing something so low. 

“It’s not like any blowjob I’ve ever had.” He halfway laughs, half blows out the comment and you feel him twitching in your hand as you lazily pump him, your hand gripping his length loosely. 

“Not a blowjob.” You correct, leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to the tip of the flushed head, only to sneakily lap at it when he groans again. “Cock worship.”

You can tell that he has no idea what that is, but you will show him. You are going to worship this beautiful, hard, pulsing member and make him feel better than he’s ever felt in his life. You are going to make him feel wanted, you do want him, all the time and because he is so good at satisfying you this is something you need to do. 

He whines, resisting the urge to touch you, balling his hands up in fists and panting in protest. “You could- you could come sit on my face while you do it.” He bargains, looking down at you again with a pleading expression. Again, wanting to give rather than be your sole focus. 

“This is about you, baby.” You remind him, squeezing him gently for good measure before you kiss the head again and run your tongue along that lovely little vein right back down to the base. Kissing around it and smirking to yourself that he has obviously trimmed his hair again. He keeps it short and neat, meticulously so. 

“You-” Your other hand moves down to his pelvis, pressing lightly and your teeth scrape around the shaft lightly, not enough to ever hurt him but his sharp inhale of breath tells you that he loves this. 

It’s hard not to giggle when he’s choking up and stopping mid sentence because of how you are making him feel. The pleasure that he’s getting from this overrides his embarrassment at being the center of attention, even when it’s just the two of you. Your mouth starts to slowly drag lower, not wanting to leave those beautifully soft balls denied of your touch. 

“Oh fuck.” Zach gasps, his hips jerking slightly when you take one into your mouth, sucking ever so gently and pushing it around with your tongue. “Baby, you’re so- fuck, I don’t deserve this.” He tells you breathlessly. 

Yes, he does. For the exact reason that he’s telling you he doesn’t. He has given you so much, boosted your own crumbling self image after learning that your boyfriend had been cheating. Built you back up emotionally with loving words and compliments, but he never wanted to take those same words from you. 

So you will show him through actions. As many times as it takes for him to believe that he is worth all of this and more. You just hum and continue to lavish that sac with attention while your fingers slowly stroke up and down his stiff length. 

He makes the most beautiful sounds for you. Surprised and weighted down with unspoken want, need, all wrapped up in those sexy groans and moans. Your name falls from his lips over and over again. 

Eventually, he will need more, but as you move over to the other ball, you plan on dragging this out for him. To heap this singularly focused attention on him for as long as he will be able to stand it without touching you. It’s a countdown right now. 

“Baby-” You pop the other one out of your mouth and hum as you move back up to kiss up the length of his cock and grin at him. “What do you need, Zach?” You ask playfully, circling the tip with your tongue again. 

“More.” He admits, his eyes slipping closed and his groan of your name so wrecked that it almost makes you cum. “I need more.”

“You’re going to get more.” You promise, licking your lips as you lower your head back to his cock and start the process of worshiping it all over again. He’s going to get so much more because he deserves it. 

[coastielaceispunk]

Zach Wellison

Main Masterlist

Loved and Loaded - You're learning so much about your new boyfriend.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Fixed Taglist reblog 1:

Zach Wellison Taglist:

@thisisthewaytofiction @maievdenoir @thirddeadlysin @wildmoonflower @idc-pedroscar @emilianamason

Since Forever

Pairing: Zach Wellison x f!reader

Word Count: 1150+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: @micheleamidalajedi ​ something happened with your official ask so I had to redo it this way! I am so THRILLED you requested my beloved and underrated Zach!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Zach Wellison Masterlist

——–

It took nearly dying while on tour for Zach to realize the one thing he would regret is not telling you how he feels about you. 

As he was laying in the medic tent being stitched up, all he could think about was you. Your laugh, your smile, the way you get this sparkle in your eyes whenever you talk about something you really love. 

He didn’t know he was in love with you until that moment, just making it past the blast radius from a couple of handmade explosives and all he saw was you.

It makes sense though. Looking back on your life growing up together, Zach realized that he’d loved you since the moment you asked him to make mud pies for your wedding in kindergarten. He just didn’t realize it until now. 

He hoped he wasn’t too late.

Keep reading

[grogusmum]

HAZEL'S THRO-BACK THURSDAY FIC RECS

This week, being particularly hard for us in the Pedro Fando, I shared some of my thoughts on the subject and reminded everyone, as I do each week, it's fic reccin' time.

And boy, did you answer the call! I got recs coming out of my ears! Which is awesome, I got so many reblogs, boosting the signal, so it reached people I've not crossed paths with yet. But I do want to point out that more often than not, I don't get any suggestions. This isn't a guilt trip, I promise. I just want to point out that even though we are busy, even though we can get caught up in our own stuff... we shouldn't wait until the shit hits the fan to hold each other up. And it doesn't always need to be sending in recs to me. It can be an ask telling someone what you like about their blog, their art, writing, editing, or whatever, why you value them in our community. (And you don't need to be eloquent, just sincere) It can be signal boosting someone new's work. If you are usually shy about commenting and reblgging- challenge yourself. Or starting some shenanigans of your own (if you fear it will flop, ask a few moots to help get it going).

So, these are just a few more thoughts from your Hazel 💚 I love you. (Yup, it's true. If hate can be someone's default feeling toward people, my default can be love.) Anyway, without further ado, here come the recs!!!

Imagine a radio DJ from Yesteryear, one hand on the headphones talking overly animated into an overhanging mic

Hey there, everyone in Pedroville! And all across the Greater Tumblrtown Area!! These are usually oldies but goodies, but this week we took old and new alike! This one's coming in from @maggiemayhemnj , who recced We'll Always Have Paris with Marcus Pike x f!Reader by our own @fromthedeskoftheraven !!

The lovely @shchristine has a Javier Peña x ofc fic for all you cats and kittens called MIAMI ! Christine is new to the scene, long time lurker, finally sharing her fic on tumblr. Let's all boost her signal!!

We got a plethora of recc from none other than @pedropascalito , and it's Javi P heavy no shock there!!

When I Think About You by @alwaysbethewest

Good Things Take Time by @oonajaeadira

Don't Look And It Won't Hurt by @mourningbirds1

Blue Star sent in @joelsgreenflannel 's "Golden Like Daylight" (Javier Peña) and one of their own! @bluestar22x "Finding Eden" (Zach Wellison!!!)

We got some more new writers! Not only posting their works but promoting them! You rock babies!!

@sunshinehaze1 So Say Goodbye (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

@ak-vintage Quarry (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

If you do not see some of your fic recs, I didn't want to overload this post and have stories get lost in the crowd!

I will put them in future Fic Recs.

[bluestar22x]

Finding Eden: Chapter 2

Summary: You and Zach make your trek towards Canada

Pairing: Zach Wellison x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Fowl language, mention of reader needing period products, mentions of violence/blood

Word Count: 5,700(ish)

Author's Note: I'm annoyed with myself that it took so long to get this chapter out but it's done, yay! This chapter is mostly set up for the future. Going to have a lot more action coming up real soon. I'm excited.

xxx

To say you were curious about Zach would've been an understatement. The truth was you were downright intrigued.

First he'd saved you, then he'd proposed that you travel with him to the safe haven he was searching for. A perfect stranger.

You couldn't quite comprehend it. Yes, you'd had plenty of experiences where people had been kind to you for the sake of it before the war, but that had quickly become a bygone after the riots broke out. Ever since then your survival had pegged on your family ties and what you could do to convince others to spare you.

It was different with Zach.

You were certain he had a motive besides just being nice, but you were also sure it wasn't anything sinister. There was nothing about his behavior and tone during your first conversation that suggested he was being anything but honest with you.

You trailed behind him and Athena through the forest, pondering over the why. What it could be. An extra set of eyes? Companionship? Both?

Both were why you'd personally agreed to the journey you'd embarked on. You fully believed in group survival. The strength in numbers. You'd had a fascination with wolves as a kid. You knew lone wolves had it rough and many didn't survive long enough to form another pack. You did not want to be a lone wolf any longer than you needed to be.

Zach had to have been feeling the pressure to find someone else too. Sure, with his military training he was bound to have far more survival skills than you, but it also meant he had to be almost constantly on alert. Athena was probably the only reason he looked fairly well-rested. Able to get some sleep each night because her large, pointed ears heard everything.

You had an urge to ask him a million questions about himself after that thought but you had no idea how tolerant he'd be of unnecessary chit chat, so you settled on observing him instead.

Of course you couldn't see Zach's face from your position behind him, but you could watch his back.

His very broad back. For a man his height and weight Zach had a wide set of shoulders, so wide they threatened to tear the seams of the brown and tan plaid shirt he was wearing if he flexed too much. It was an impressive sight on a man you'd quickly labeled as slim.

Less impressive was his nearly flat ass that barely held up his jeans, but that had a different kind of appeal. It was cute. It reminded you of a boy you'd dated in high school. The one you went to prom with who had been nothing but a gentleman with you despite his age. No prom night sex with that one. No, that had come months later, and you'd initiated it. You'd probably have married him if only the long distances between your colleges hadn't torn you apart.

Zach's brown eyes reminded you of him too. Though you obviously couldn't see them at the moment, you recalled them in your mind, dark, shiny, and expressive, more so than the rest of his face. What really stuck in your mind though was that his were still gentle looking despite the state of the world, the horrors he'd certainly seen and had probably done. They were in part why you'd trusted him enough to team up with him.

The similarities ended there though. While Zach still had some boyish features, his jawline was nothing but man. The same for his strong, sloped nose. You imagined he must have had an awkward faze in his youth due to their prominence, but at his maturity (late thirties, you'd surmised) they suited him perfectly.

Your cheeks heated up at your wayward thoughts about him, as if you'd spoken them out loud. You knew you hadn't, but it still felt inappropriate enough that you were sheepish about it. You'd just met him, after all. Not having had a boyfriend since a year before the apocalypse started was not an excuse to think about him like a piece of meat, analyzing every part of his body that peaked an interest in you (except for one in particular that you respectfully avoided with all your willpower).

Zach glanced back at you occasionally, on and off, for about an hour before your eyes locked by accident and you nearly stumbled over a rotten tree stump.

He's just checking in on you to make sure you're not lagging behind, nothing more, you reminded yourself. Cool your jets. Don't make a fool out of yourself over nothing.

Anyone who had a privy to your thoughts without having seen you first could have mistaken you for a teenage girl with a crush.

You weren't normally like this. Especially not after the country fell apart. But Zach was the first decent guy you'd run into the last few years who wasn't related to you, and he was definitely your type. At least physically, anyways. You weren't going to pretend you actually knew him enough for it to be anything else but basic attraction.

"You alright?" he inquired, hiking up an eyebrow as he did so.

"Yeah," you squeaked, flustering at your unusually high voice, even more so when you realized he was referring to your trip. "Don't mind me."

He nodded and continued on like you weren't behaving like someone half your age, but you decided then that silence wasn't the best idea for you anymore. It was better to risk annoying him to distract yourself and to actually get to know him than to continue to regress.

"Sooo...where are you from?" you began, walking faster to catch up with him.

"We're doing small talk?" he asked with some disbelief as you matched his pace and kept shoulder to shoulder with him, nothing but Athena between you.

"Sorry, are you busy?" you retorted with a huff, expression serious.

His eyes darted towards you, obviously surprised by your comeback, and he chuckled. "Got me there. Small talk it is. I was in Los Angeles. You?"

"Born and raised in Culver, Oregon," you stated plainly. "It's a small farming community. I went away to college in Seattle for a few years, but I returned afterwards. Found an accounting job with a local restaurant."

"That's funny," Zach mused, pursing his lips.

You frowned. "Why?"

"I worked as a building manager before everything went to shit, but for a brief time I worked for a friend's brother at his restaurant," he explained. "Nothing major, just washing dishes and helping the cooks out a bit, but it got me out of a bind, and I was considering going to college to be a chef before -."

"Everything went to shit," you quoted him flatly.

He sighed and glanced around at the trees surrounding you, looking for a distraction. "Yeah." You could hear the heavy regret that saturated that one word.

For the one millionth time since the bombs fell you thought about how unfair the world was. You'd do anything to be back looking through the books at Angel's Great Delights and you wished Zach had been able to pursue cooking like he'd planned to. It wasn't right you both had to pay for the mistakes of others.

"My cousin called it the preventable apocalypse," you informed him, tilting your head to the right, away from him. "I argued that most apocalypses in fiction were preventable. People just refused to pull their heads out of their asses. It was the most realistic part of those kinds of stories."

Zach laughed again. "Couldn’t have put it better myself.”

"So where were you when it all began?" you pressed on.

You could see it in his eyes, the way he withdrew into the memory. "I was at work, saw the news on the lobby's flatscreen TV. Washington D.C. was gone. It was surreal. And then after the riots began, it wasn't. LA was in the thick of it. I fled the city and lived in a trailer after it became too much. You?"

"I was alone in bed," you recalled, furrowing your eyebrows. "I was recovering from a severe flu. My boss had sent me home. Said he'd rather see me the next day or so when I wasn't half dead and ready to puke on the paperwork."

"Solid boss," Zach remarked.

"The fact that he could be considered solid just because he let me have a sick day when I was hardly in any shape to work, further proves how awful society was before."

"As opposed to now?"

It was your turn to chuckle. "What society?"

He hummed in agreement. "Why don't we talk about anything but the events that led to the current status of the world?"

"Okay, but the ones I have in mind are going to sound super trivial," you warned.

The edges of his mouth twitched up. "Perfect."

So that was how you both spent the rest of the day, talking about your favorite movies, music, animals (his was dogs, big surprise) and anything else that came to your minds intermittently (there was plenty of stretches of peaceful silence in between).

It was nostalgic, and for a time you could both just pretend you were hiking with each other on a day off from work. Like you'd run into each other in less dire circumstances.

Though only time could ever truly allow you to get to know someone, learning the basics was a start, and with every piece of personal information he entrusted you with you felt more and more comfortable in his presence.

It was pleasant, you thought. Zach wasn't super chatty, but he also wasn't aloof either. At least he wasn't with the things that didn't hit any sore spots, but that went for you too. Who would want to talk to a stranger about the painful memories they buried deep inside themselves? Even those who sought therapy didn't blurt out their deepest darkest secrets to their therapists until they had built a trusting relationship with them.

Your old trusty digital wristwatch read six eleven at night (probably inaccurately considering you hadn't touched it since you had to abandon your hometown) when Zach decided to stop for the day and set up a makeshift fire pit with some rocks, dried leaves, and old broken branches. You were so impressed with how neatly he'd stacked the wood and how easily he'd lit a match he had on him and got the fire going that you forgot to try to pretend to be useful. You did look for more branches and some logs to feed the fire for when it slowed down later on while Zach started pitching his forest green and tan tent.

"You should get yours up too," he told you when you came back from your third round of fire fuel hunting. He was busy zipping the entrance up. "Judging from the clouds, it might rain tonight."

You tipped your head back to stare up at the dark, angry clouds covering most of the sky above you and sighed. You hadn't wanted to ask Zach for any favors so soon, but if it was going to rain you had no choice.

"I don't have one," you admitted to him. "My cousin had a tent in his pack. I've been sleeping in whatever shelter I could find ever since his death."

"Well, you can share with me if you want," Zach offered without any hesitance. "It'll be a tight squeeze, but it's supposed to be a two person tent."

You didn't know much about tents, your parents had never camped out with you, but your cousin's had been a three person and it definitely had not felt like it had actually been made for three. You were sure a two person tent for two people wouldn't be any better.

Why did that make your heart jump a little?

"Sure, yeah, thanks," you said in return. "It's better than sleeping without anything over my head but the trees."

They were sparsely leafed due to the season and weren't particularly well bunched together where Zach had decided to set up. You knew if it downpoured you'd get drenched and that wasn't appealing with how cold the nights were starting to get.

You walked over to him and helped him finish setting up the tent, shoving and kicking the spikes that would keep the securing ropes taunt into the firm ground. You at least knew how to do this.

Once you both were finished you sat down cross legged by the fire, pulling out cans of old vegetables you both had in your backpacks. Yours was sliced carrots, his was green beans.

"I wonder how long we can eat these before we're recklessly risking our lives?" You peered at the label curiously, like it would tell you anything beyond the expiration date that you were already well past.

"Guess we'll find out," Zach stated dryly as he tipped his can's contents into his mouth, green bean juice spilling from the corner of his mouth.

You did the same with your can since you didn't have any utensils either. You missed utensils. But even if you found some again, they'd be a waste of space in your backpack. Essentials only.

You grimaced as you chewed and swallowed what you could fit into your mouth. Eating cold canned vegetables was getting real old.

"We really need to find a cooking pan," you decided.

"I have one," Zach said, feeding Athena the contents of the bottom of his can before tossing it into the fire after.

You blinked at him incredulously. "Then why didn't we use it?"

He shrugged and leaned back against the black cottonwood tree behind him. "I was hungry. Forgot to mention you could use it. Sorry."

You sighed and slouched forward like a wilting flower. "It's alright. Next time."

"At the risk of sounding like an old man, I think I'm going to turn in," Zach decided a few seconds later as he peered over at the distant mountains the sun had disappeared behind during your meager meal. "I'd like to head out at first light."

"I might as well too then," you figured. "I don't want to lose any sleep I can get. It's rough enough waking without coffee."

He groaned a little. "Ah, I miss coffee."

"Same."

You both straightened your legs out then pushed yourselves into a stand and went through your bedtime rituals, yours a lot shorter lately, now that you didn't have any luxuries like face washes and lotion. You simply brushed your teeth with only water from your drinking bottle and removed your belt. Zach also did the former, but not the latter, slipping into the tent as is. He didn't even take off his boots until he was inside, to your dismay.

You took your sleeping bag off your pack and unrolled it before also crawling in barefooted, doing what you could to flatten it out beside his.

You brushed shoulders with him when you crawled into it. "Yep. This is definitely tight. Are you sure this is okay?"

You weren't sure what compelled you to give him a way out of your new sleeping situation. You really didn't want to sleep out in the rain.

He nodded, eyelids already at half-mast. "I promise it's fine. Sharing a tent with you is much better than some of the guys I had to share tight spaces with in the military. You smell a whole lot better, for one."

Your stomach fluttered. You knew he was just stating facts, but Zach thought you smelled good. Or at least better. You'd gladly take the compliment.

You were still absorbing it when Zach whistled and Athena came charging into the tent. "Hope you don't mind sharing with her too."

"Of course not," you said, giggling when the dog nosed her way between you and wedged herself into the small gap between your sleeping bags.

He grinned at your laughter and how you fondly scratched at the base of Athena's ear after she settled down. "Make yourself at home as always, girl."

"Typical dog," you added, shaking your head before rolling onto your side to face them both and closing your eyes. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Zach returned, slinging his left arm over his stomach, getting comfortable too.

It wasn't long before you both drifted off to sleep.

x

The next morning you heard and felt Zach moving around beside you before you were even conscious of the nippy air seeping into the tent.

You wrinkled your nose, trying to get back feeling in the numbed tip of it as you blinked up at the inside of the tent top.

It was barely dawn, but it was light enough to see everything around you, which meant that it was time to go.

You crawled out of the tent as Zach began to pack up his belongings and you searched for a private spot to pee. You only had to wander a few yards away to find a big enough spruce tree to squat behind.

When you returned Zach was sitting by a newly lit fire, Athena lying by his feet, her head resting on her front paws, ears twitching with the sound of him opening another can of vegetables, this time peas, with the multi-tool that he kept in one of his back pockets.

You quietly sat down a few feet from them and opened your second can of carrots, using the tab already provided on the top.

"I'm not eating cold again," you said, glancing at Zach's backpack, which was right behind him. "Can I use that pan now?"

"Sure." Zach reached for and rummaged through his pack, pulling the pan out from the bottom it. "Do you want to throw our food together; peas and carrots?"

"Sounds good," you replied. "Just don't expect to get a bigger portion out of it."

He raised a hand palm up in a pledging gesture at you. "I solemnly swear it'll be split right down the middle."

Satisfied with his promise you dumped the contents of your can in the pan and he did the same with his before placing the pan over the fire. After several minutes he removed it to check how cooked the food was, sampling a few peas.

He smiled. "Perfect."

He quickly split the pile of vegetables in the pan in two and dumped your share onto the plastic plate you always carried around.

It was the best meal you'd had since your cousin had gotten himself killed and left you with only the supplies you'd been carrying on your back.

After you and Zach had scarfed down your portions and both shared a palm full with Athena, you packed up and resumed your trek north.

It was still cloudy out, but the clouds were a light enough gray that you did not think it would rain again anytime soon, thankfully.

Unfortunately it meant you'd need to use landmarks instead of the sun's position to guide you, or so you thought until Zach pulled a compass out of his coat pocket.

"Of course you know how to read a compass."

He twisted his body to look at you as he continued to walk. "You don't? What have you been using to find your way on days like this?"

"The mountains, mostly," you answered.

He huffed. "Good way to get lost."

"Well, it's not like it mattered before," you told him. "I didn't have a destination in mind then."

"Want me to show you how it works?" he offered.

You shrugged. "You can try."

"It's easy," Zach promised, invading your personal space so he could show you the face of the compass. "See the white end of the needle?" He pointed it out. "That always points south. And the red end always points north. If you make sure the needle stays steady, adjusting the path you take when you need to, you won't wander aimlessly."

"And this is always accurate?" you questioned doubtingly.

He hesitated. "Usually. Sometimes they can be thrown out of wack, but I check this one regularly and it hasn't failed me yet. In any case, it's better than going off scenery alone."

You nodded. You weren't much of an outdoorsy person before, but you had heard plenty of stories of hikers getting lost because they only used their sight to guide them. It was easy to get turned around in a forest. Your rational side knew that a compass was a lot more reliable, and fixable if something ever screwed it up. You hoped Zach knew how to calibrate one.

Zach pocketed the compass and continued forward, Athena ever glued to his side, rarely wandering more than a few feet away from him to sniff at something or do her business.

Occasionally you observed him scratching her head or stroking her back in passing and it made you smile.

You liked people who liked dogs. You'd been raised around them, and while they weren't perfect at letting you know who you could trust (sometimes they did trust the wrong people), you firmly believed dogs were at least a pretty good first indicator. The fact that Athena was so relaxed around Zach, and that he made an effort to give her affection, reassured you that you'd chosen your partner well.

"There's a highway ahead," Zach announced as afternoon neared, surpassing the twenty-four hour mark since you'd teamed up with him. "We should follow it a bit. Check to see if the closest town is safe to scavenge. I'm running low on supplies."

"Me too," you admitted. "But I'm not going to go into town if it's going to be a fight."

"I won't force you to put yourself in danger," he vowed. "If there's still people there and I believe I can slip past them but you're nervous, you can stay hidden. I'll share whatever I find."

You blinked at him in surprise. "Really?"

"Of course," he replied.

"You're not going to label me a burden?"

He pursed his lips. "I've been labeled that before. I would never do it to someone else. We all have different strengths and weaknesses, a team works with them."

That made you curious. You couldn't figure out why someone would call Zach a burden when he'd been anything but since you'd met. You supposed it was different times before, but still. He seemed so goal motivated and had so many skills, what would drive someone to suggest otherwise?

You approached the road slowly and Zach tentatively stepped out of the cover of the trees to study the sign alongside it. "There is a town nearby," he informed you as he ducked back into the trees to stand beside you. "It's a mile out from here. It's out of our way, but it might be worth it."

You sighed. "Well, that's not too bad. With it being so close we've got to at least see it for ourselves."

He nodded in agreement and started to walk parallel with the road, keeping just out of view of anyone who might be dumb enough (or had enough ammo) to be strolling down the highway without a care in the world.

To your relief, when you finally passed the town line nothing changed. There were no working cars in the road, no voices, no signs of life. You could feel the emptiness of it, even though the road was littered with abandoned vehicles and other items, none that would be useful to you, unfortunately.

You and Zach left the safety of the forest and carefully made your way into town, his hands cradling his shotgun, ready if he needed to shoot to protect you both if the situation changed.

"We should head to the supermarket," he suggested.

"That's always the first place picked clean," you argued before gesturing towards the town library that stood next to the town hall, both buildings once painted white, faded yellow and chipped since. "The library would be the best place to try. The one in my hometown had food and a bathroom, drinks too. It's worth a shot."

He scoffed. "Nobody raids libraries."

"Precisely," you said, smirking. You were pretty confident you'd find at least a few useful items.

He chewed his lip, silently debating, weighing the risks and potential benefits. "Fine, we'll check out both. Then we head back out. Don't want to overstay our welcome."

"Fine with me."

A part of you was tempted to make an attempt to convince him that checking out every business and house possible would be worth it, but you understood why he was clearly set on only a couple places. A town like this was valuable. Anyone traveling nearby would likely want to pass through just as they were, and running into a large group would be disastrous.

One man with one gun could only do so much. Same went for a dog with no protective gear and a woman with a limited set of survival skills.

Zach lead you over to the local supermarket first, using a crowbar that a previous raider had left behind to pry the sliding doors open enough so you both could squeeze through.

Once inside you both scanned the shelves up and down for anything useful.

As you'd predicted, the store was pretty barren. There were some non-survival items scattered about - a variety of novels, toy animal figurines, and different brands of pet stain remover - but none of those items would be beneficial to your survival.

You passed the pet food aisle and even those shelves were wiped out. You knew it wasn't because so many people were worried about what their pets ate. No, they were definitely eating the food themselves. Just thinking about people doing it made you gag. You understood the concept of desperate times, desperate measures, but oh did you pray to high heaven you'd never be forced to eat any kind of dog food.

The next aisle was themed health and beauty and you wandered down it with Zach in hopes of finding a toothbrush to keep as back up for your current one, but had no such luck.

You were about to enter another row when you noticed Zach had lingered behind and looked over your shoulder to see him on his knees, stretched fully out, reaching for something in the very back of one of the bottom shelves.

When he pulled back and sat on the heels of his hiking boots he had a five pack of men's disposable razors in his right hand.

"Yeesss!" he exclaimed triumphantly, expression gleeful, before he studied the package. You grinned, infected by his enthusiasm.

It was the first time you'd gotten a glimpse of the boy he once must have been.

"I take you don't like letting your beard grow out."

Zach rocked himself back onto his feet and shook his head at you. "It's not my preferred look. Honestly, it grows in kind of patchy. But the real issue is it gets itchy after more than a week of growth. Drives me crazy some days, and anti-itch cream is hard to come by nowadays."

You hummed in understanding, cutting off when you noticed a small bottle on a nearby middle shelf.

You had to reach all the way back for it, like Zach had with the razors, but you managed, and for your grunts of effort and overstretched muscles you were rewarded a bottle of Tylenol.

"Now, this made the trip worth it," you declared.

Zach chuckled. "See? Not completely wasted."

You sighed dramatically, for show. "Yeah, yeah, you were right. Now, can we hurry up so we can hit the riches at the library?"

"Sure."

Six more aisles later you left the store with only the razors and the pills, but at least you and Zach had both gotten something out of it.

You exited cautiously, Zach leading with Athena as per usual, but for once they could not ease the anxiety you felt being in a place that used to be populated with people again.

All you could think about was the sharp crack of a bullet, the last split second you saw your cousin and his wife alive before they'd slumped to the ground so suddenly lifeless that you'd frozen like a deer in headlights while their bodies leaked blood into the cracks of the worn asphalt. Helpless to do anything but stare in horror as their killer dragged their bodies into a pile on the side of the road like they were just another dead animal to clear out, until you finally felt your legs again and bolted.

Civilization was no longer a place that comforted you.

Zach broke into the little library by shattering the glass of the front door with a sharp, heavy stone and turning the lock blindly. As soon as it clicked open he stepped aside so you could enter first.

You choked on the dust and had to cover your mouth with your jacket sleeve, but you pushed forward, determined.

Luckily the building had a lot of frosted windows so you were able to maneuver around easily without the lights.

You started at the main desk, searching every drawer. All you found were a few pens, which Zach pocketed.

Next you tried the janitor's closet. "Oh, well, now this will certainly be a luxury."

You pulled two rolls of individually wrapped toilet tissue off one of the shelves and threw one to Zach, purposely trying to catch him off guard. Impressively, he still caught it. He laughed. "Okay, so we're already even scored. Think you can find more stuff?"

"For sure."

You headed into a corner that had once acted as a little self serve café, littered with rotten food and a reeking coffee machine. You found four unopened water bottles still in the cooler by the back of the space and nearly jumped with joy.

"Never doubt me again," you said as you handed Zach two of them.

He made the motion of crossing his heart at you and you smiled.

"One last place to check."

As Zach shoved his bottles into his pack you slipped into the unisex bathroom adjacent to the coffee corner alone and glanced around. There wasn't much in the room besides the sink and toilet, not even a window, so it was hard to see, but you found one more roll of toilet tissue and a half used bag of pantie liners you could use for when your period rolled around. You hid them both in your pack and rejoined Zach.

"Any luck?" he inquired.

"Just another roll of toilet tissue," you lied, not feeling comfortable talking to him about period products even in passing. It wasn't just because you grew up around men who didn't want to hear a thing about it, who preferred to live in ignorance over the female cycle. It was also because Zach was still just an acquaintance, and that just wasn't something you typically talked about loosely in front of people you hardly knew, no matter their gender.

"I'll share if you admit the library was the more productive stop," you added with a smirk.

"I can't deny it," he said.

"I actually want to look at the books for a second if that's okay?"

Zach nodded. "Hurry up though."

You raced over to the how-to section, scanning them almost desperately for a book you had in mind. You found it on a top shelf, a book on North American plants for survivalists.

You were plucking it from the shelf when Athena barked suddenly and you flinched.

"What's up, girl?" Zach asked her, warily turning in a circle in hopes of seeing what set her off.

She was staring at the back window, suggesting she'd alerted to a shadow or sound from that direction.

Athena wasn't a barker. You'd only known her for a day but it was long enough to know if she was barking there was a reason. That knowledge made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

"Follow me," Zach whispered.

You nodded quickly and slowly made your way to the front with him, creeping out of the door as soon as he gave the hand signal to do so.

You didn't breath properly until you were a good quarter of a mile back into the forest, back on track north.

You kept up with Zach. "Do you think she heard people?"

"Her warning bark is the same for people and animals so I have no idea," he said. "It doesn't matter. In either case, we got away safe. And if it was a false alarm, somehow, well, it's not like we weren't already leaving."

"True."

You turned the book you'd carried out in your arms over and skimmed the information on the faded back cover. The book had been published in 1985, but that was alright. Plant survival books didn't tend to get outdated too often.

"What's the book about?" Zach asked you when he noticed you studying it.

You told him and he looked pleased. "Great idea bringing it. I know about a few edible plants, but probably not as many as there actually are."

"All I know is berries are usually okay, and never eat the mushrooms," you said. "Even experts used to poison themselves eating wild mushrooms sometimes. Mushrooms look too alike and the risk is too great to be worth it."

"Noted."

You took a moment to stop and slide the book into your pack before running to catch back up with Zach again. "Are you nervous about the crossing?"

"We're still probably a few days out from that," he told you, "But yeah, I've been nervous from the start. Day one. I've heard as many rumors about the Canadian border patrol as you have. Micah said they have a zero tolerance for Americans crossing over. They will try to shoot us if they see us."

He halted to face you. "Are you still okay with this plan?"

"No," you said firmly. "Of course I'm not, I never was, but if I don't go with you to Alaska, I have no future."

He nodded, understanding what you meant. Entering Canada would be dangerous, but not necessarily more dangerous than staying behind, and if you wanted any sort of peaceful living you had to risk it.

Alaska here I come.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed @love-affair-with-fandoms @morallyinept

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

xxx

[ladykatakuri]

Stardust Reblog Challenge November

29th:

The Light Between Oceans Chapter 7 - Rex x F!Reader, Fives x F!OC, Fives x M!OC by: @rowansparrow Mature

Unexpected Visitor - Zach Wellison x F!Reader by: @absurdthirst Mature

Court You - TBB x Reader HC`s by: @zoeykallus SFW

Hunter x F!Reader by: @kaminocasey SFW

Kix x F!Reader by: @kaminocasey NSFW

Wrecker x F!Reader by: @kaminocasey NSFW

Hunter x F!Reader by: @kaminocasey SFW ( slightly suggestive lang.)

Tech x F!Reader x Crosshair by: @kaminocasey NSFW

Forbidden Love - Hunter/Echo/Fives/Rex X Jedi Reader HC`s by: @zoeykallus SFW

Brains are Beautiful - TBB x Redaer HC`s by: @zoeykallus SFW

Culture Shock - TBB x Reader by: @eyecandyeoz SFW

Love and Art - Artistic TBB x F!reader HC`s by: @zoeykallus SFW

Fives x AFAB!Reader by: @twistedstitcher27 NSFW

Cody x F!Reader by: @twistedstitcher27 NSFW

Heartbeats - Wrecker x Reader by: @arctrooper69 SFW

Do You Hear the People Sing - Fox x F!Reader by: @kaminocasey SFW

The Things We Fight For Ch.3 - Omega & F!Reader by: @arctrooper69 SFW

Behave! - Fives x F!Reader by: @rain-on-kamino NSFW

Boba x F!Reader by: @twistedstitcher27 NSFW

I Need to Tell You Something - Fives x F!Reader by: @nahoney22 NSFW

The Gift Dilemma - TBB x M!Reader by: @zoeykallus SFW

Then and Now - Frankie Morales x F!Millers Cousin Reader by: @musings-of-a-rose NSFW

Language of the Soul - The Son x F!Reader by: @eyecandyeoz SFW

30th:

Fives x F!Reader by: @twistedstitcher27 NSFW

Gar Cyare Ch.6 - Alpha17 x F!Reader by: @wanderinginksplot NSFW

Gar Cyare Ch.7 - Alpha17 x F!Reader by: @wanderinginksplot SFW

Grogu`s Teacher Ch.5 - Din Djarin x F!Reader by: @firstofficerwiggles SFW

Sun and Rain: Age of the Empire Ch.7 & 8 - Hunter x F!OC by: @photogirl894 SFW

Always On My Mind - Cody x F!Reader by: @zoeykallus NSFW

Hostage - TBB x Reader HC`s by : @zoeykallus SFW

Learn to Protect Yourself - TBB x F!Reader HC`s by: @zoeykallus SFW

A Little Touch Up - Echo x GN!Reader by: @nahoney22 SFW

Sassenach and the Spaniard Ch.9 - Pero Tovar x F!Reader by: @wardenparker & @absurdthirst NSFW

Taglist: @imabeautifulbutterfly@chaoticvampirejedi@hellothere-generalangsty@cyroku@reluctant-mandalore@uponrightful@zinzinina@saradika@galacticgraffiti@ashotofspotchka@dindjarindiaries@dinbeskarbaby@djarrex@djarinsbeskar@rowansparrow@photogirl894@rigelmoonshine@rigel-the-moonstrider@nahoney22@loth-wolffe@neon-junkie@bobafetts-princess@cyarbika@charnelhouse@zoeykallus@kin-rokku@jgvfhl@honestly-shite@here-comes-the-moose@dindjarindiaries@firstofficerwiggles@fictional-men-ruin-lives @ladysongmaster @lozalot @moonstrider9904@lorjukka@m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @rain-on-kamino @monako-jinn-stories @middimidoris @wild-karrde @cross-my-heartt @arctrooper69

[ladyxskywalker]

Stardust Reblog Challenge

Sept - Dec 2022 📖☕️🌸

please be sure to check all individual ratings, tags, & content warnings before reading.

DECEMBER

challenge hosted by @natrace 🌸

a reading & reblog effort to show support for writers here on tumblr 📖

this month’s reading lists are kindly dedicated in loving memory of our friend Cindy (@keeper0fthestars) 🕊 who passed away recently after a lengthy battle with cancer.

she was a wonderful friend to all, always supportive, kind, & an incredibly bright light to our community.

finding love, friendship, & comfort through reading, as well as getting lost in writing these beloved stories, has often felt like a warm hug when needed most. sharing & connecting with so many people over all of the things we love is a beautiful thing, & Cindy's amazing heart reached so many across the globe. I'm so thankful for getting the chance to know her & offer warm thoughts & sincere condolences to her family & friends during this time. 💐

always daydream & never lose sight of all of the beautiful treasures to be found within your hearts.

all the love, always, xo A 💌

andor / rogue one

bodhi rook

reprieve by @uwingdispatch (gn!reader)

** please note the content warnings before reading

brasso

unwavering by @uwingdispatch (gn!reader)

cassian andor

cassian helping you through a panic attack before aldhani by @archieimagines

endlessly by @uwingdispatch (gn!reader)

ruescott melshi

before.when.after. By @littlemisspascal (f!reader)

rating: M (18+ only)

misc. / multi. fandom

the batman

alfred pennyworth

bookstore date by @eupheme (gn!reader)

like the movies by @eupheme (f!reader) **

rating: E (18+ only)

my foolish heart by @eupheme (f!reader)

twilight

carlisle cullen, charlie swan

lazy sunday by @eupheme (charlie swan x f!reader) **

rating: E (18+ only)

watch what happens by @eupheme (carlisle cullen x f!reader x charlie swan)

rating: E (18+ only)

moon knight

dream a little dream of me by @redahlia-writes (f!reader)

pedro pascal characters

ezra (prospect)

static and snow by @the-blind-assassin-12 (f!reader)

jack daniels

it’s a marshmallow world part one, part two by @writeforfandoms (f!reader)

joel miller

wolf song by @eupheme (f!reader)

rating: M (18+ only)

marcus pike

where the love light gleams by @the-blind-assassin-12 (f!reader)

zach wellison

coming home (a room with a view series) by @absurdthirst (f!reader)

rating: M (18+ only)

star wars

anakin skywalker

forbidden by @mylifeisactuallyamess

armitage hux

too late for goodbye by @mylifeisactuallyamess

din djarin

bookstore girl by @saradika (gn!reader)

obi wan kenobi

baking/messy kitchen by @saradika (gn!reader)

rating: M (18+ only) (modern au, ‘ben’ kenobi)

you make me feel like dancing by @saradika (f!reader) **

rating: E (18+ only) (modern au, ‘ben’ kenobi)

poe dameron

the first noel life day by @dailyreverie

triple frontier

benny miller

all I need by @dameronscopilot (f!reader) **

rating: E (18+ only)

will miller

christmas morning by @rayslittlekitten (dad!will, wife!f!reader, child oc lucy)

** please be sure to check out my separate end of year fic recs list for more wonderful stories from ao3 **

[misspearly1]

For your anniversary asks (a huge gz on that again, by the way 💜), I knew I had to send one in when I saw Zach Wellison was an option 😍

So Zach Wellison with fluff prompt: sweat dripping down your faces, newly moved in furniture scattered around the half empty, small house and smut prompt: You're so beautiful...so,so beautiful...

Thank you ♥️

Lily! Thank you so much for sending this into my blog. I've really enjoyed the balance of smut and fluff in this request. Zach is such a sweetheart, and I've especially enjoyed writing something for him considering it's been such a while since I have. Thank you, my dearest and I hope you enjoy the read. ily ❤️🥰

My inbox is still open for the Requests with Supplied Prompts. Even if you've already sent one in, I don't oppose to more. I'm loving all the requests I'm received so far! 🥰

New Beginnings

Pairing: Zach Wellison x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI! Established Relationship. Helping Zach move into his first home. Mentions of PTSD. Brief mentions of an attack (in the show when he attacked in the park). Smut. Foreplay, both F and M receiving. Oral. (F receiving). Hair Grabbing. Nipple Play. Unprotected PIV Sex. Lots of Fluff.

AN: Also, please let me know if you're experiencing any difficult viewing this post with the colour of the text. I've tried all the temporary fixes I have found that solves the issues, but just in case they don't work, I apologise in advance.

Prompts: sweat dripping down your faces, newly moved in furniture scattered around the half empty, small house // "You're so beautiful...so,so beautiful..."

-

It doesn’t matter when Zach Wellison was able to get his life back in order, it’s how he got his life back in order that matters most in your eyes. 

The man fought tooth and nail to reach this point in his life, which is moving house with his name on the lease, savings in the bank and a stable job. Unfortunately, the life that he faced when leaving the Marines Corps was a difficult one, and frankly, it’s a common problem that so many other decorated soldiers also endure. 

There was no home for Zach when he came back to the United States, he lived out of a duffle bag for a whole year, taking up residence in Vista Hermosa Park frequently just to grab a night's rest where it was reasonably safe, but even so, it still wasn’t completely safe, nor was it easy. He suffered from many restless nights living in fear or shivering with the cold. 

And one day, his reasons to be fearful became a reality when someone attacked him, leaving a wound on his head that needed stitches, however it was from there that his life began to change for the better. The kindness of a good Samaritan named Justin Walker that took pity on Zach and offered him a place to stay, a job working for his brother-in-law and most importantly, a friend that he could trust. 

Three and a half years later, Zach and Justin are still friends, and they spend their Saturday night's meeting up at a bar for a few social drinks and a chat. It’s been a tough journey, but Zach made it. He finally made it to where he feels safe and secure. The days of living out of his duffel bag are behind him and the life he’s building lies ahead of him. 

And that life includes you at his side. 

You met Zach exactly three years ago when he became the building manager of your apartment block. He moved down the hall from you and it was a love at first sight kind of feeling you had when you looked in the man's eyes. Ever since then, you’ve felt lucky and honoured to accompany such a hardworking man like himself along the way, bringing you both to this important milestone in your relationship. 

Although it has been a rocky road, it took a lot of time and patience on your behalf to reach this point with Zach. The nightmares, the anger problems, the darkness shrouding his mind with the memories of war and the symptoms of PTSD still remain, but they’re more manageable now. He manages them better. Having a structured life with routine and order helps him adjust, your attentive care and support helps ease some of the psychological pain he suffers with, and the achievement of moving into his own apartment empowers him to keep on living the life he deserves. 

Every day, little by little, Zach gets better in every aspect. You see him smiling more, see the twinkle of ambition returning to his eyes and the confidence restoring within. He has always been a good man with a good heart, but lately you have noticed that the good man inside isn’t buried deeply as much as it was three years ago. It’s as if he’s getting back to the way he used to be, but much better.

You look at him now with admiration, watching his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he gulps his bottle of water with exhaustion pouring out of his skin. Running up and down the stairs multiple times is the cause and the guy needed a quick break when joining you in the living room to replenish his energy. Though, you’re looking at him like he’s a piece of meat right now. 

It’s allowed considering you’re his girl and all, but it’s surprising how much you’re blushing from the way he looks. The beads of sweat roll down his face and body, creating a radiant sheen across his exposed skin that just highlights all of his handsome features. You watch the droplets dripping off the tip of his nose before he sighs in frustration and uses his shirt to wipe his face. 

Your lips turn upwards with a smile as your eyes drop instantly to admire the wide expanse of his chest and the little trail of hair leading into his sweatpants. The weight of belongings kept in the pockets of his pants weighed them down, thus displaying his sexy v-lines. Not only does Zach look so fucking good in a simple pair of sweatpants but wearing sweatpants while the sweat runs down his chest is something else entirely. 

It’s fuelling your sexual desire to tear the clothes from his body and make love to him right here on the living room floor. Even though the house is in disarray right now, the furniture is lying around where it shouldn’t be, you don’t care for the comfort of a bed or sofa to lay on, you only care for the sexy noises he makes for you when pleasuring him. The hunger in your eyes grows more feral the more you look at him. 

Meanwhile, Zach drenches his shirt and lifts the item of clothing over his head, leaving his top half completely nude for those hungry lustful eyes of yours to roam freely. Immersed with the filthy thoughts swimming around your head, you didn’t even notice the man looking at you and quite clearly seeing that you’re in a sexual daydream. He caught you red handed, and it was only the act of groping a firm handful of his bulge that tore you out of your daydreaming. 

You look up and see his flattered expression, the smile on his lips growing bigger as his cheeks burn red from the way you were just looking at him. Zach’s confidence isn’t nearly as high as it should be, but it’s growing, just like the tent in his sweatpants. “You're so beautiful,” You say with a shake of your head, as if you couldn’t believe just how lucky you are to be his girl. Moving towards him, you cup his cheeks and brush your thumb across his patchy beard. “...So, so beautiful…”  You whisper before leaning in to close the gap. 

The man kisses you delicately, his full, luscious pouty lips moving against yours with such grace that you moaned and tilted your head to the side with request to deepen the kiss. Which he responded by cupping your cheek too and slipping his tongue past your lips, twirling the muscle around with yours. Zach now groans as he wraps his arm around your back to pull you in, the heat of your core so dangerously close to the hardness in his pants. You can feel the firm prod of his length pressing into your lower stomach. 

“Baby,” He moans for you, so soft and sweet, a moan that carries a plea for more. You hear him loud and clear, and act on it immediately by gently pulling him backwards to the middle of the living room floor. As you both kneel down together, your shirt is the first to go, along with your bra, and the bare contact of your breasts pressed against him is sensational. Your nipples graze across his taut chest, hardening with sensitivity and a wish to be caressed by him. As soon as he feels the stiffness of your nipples pressing his skin, he breaks from the kiss and ducks his head swiftly, wrapping his lips around one of them. 

“Shit!...”  You cry. Throwing your head back and relishing in the sounds he makes, it was a mixture of satisfaction and neediness, the noise flooding your cunt with desire. It pools in your panties, dampening the fabric, you can feel it, and the subtle movements of his hips seeking your touch brings you back into focus. “Zach,” You call his name, your fingers threading through his hair with a careful tug. He releases your nipple with the softest audible pop and lifts his head to look at you, the drunken expression to his face perceivable. 

The man held your face with both hands, peppering your lips with kisses as you slipped your fingers inside the waistband of his sweatpants. The smallest amount of contact you’ve given thus far makes his stomach tense and jerk into you, desperately searching for more. You hold his eye contact while pulling his pants down, admiring the way his face tightens with exposure from the cool air hitting his cock. A ripple of goosebumps dashes up his spine, dimpling his skin with a shuddering exhale slipping past his lips. He breaks your eye contact to look down, his brows rising with surprise at the sight of himself. You look too, your eyebrows raising with surprise also. 

“Oh, Zachary,” You bite your bottom lip with a tease in your tone, “You’ve made a mess of yourself, baby.” You reach out to drag the pad of your thumb across the tip of him, smearing the remnants of his seed around, eliciting a few more beads to leak out onto your finger. He came. Somewhere between the first kiss to this point now, he came for you from such little contact, and you love it. You love the neediness he exudes, it’s noticeable in the way he breathes, and the way he leans into the palm of your hand, welcoming your touch eagerly. 

You multitask by kissing his lips and stroking his cock, drawing out the prettiest of sounds from his lips while he drops his hands to your jeans. The item of clothing was only pulled down halfway effortlessly by his nimble movements before feeling his deft fingers dragging across your lower stomach that makes you stutter and gasp. Zach takes the moment of your distraction and leans in to place his lips to your neck, sucking softly as he slides two fingers through your folds. Your slick coats his hand, granting him easier access to breach your walls with both fingers slipping inside. 

“Holy fuck,” You mewl and buck into him. His free hand drops to the base of your spine, keeping you close as he buries his fingers deeper and bends them to caress your g-spot. He now enjoys all the pretty little sounds you make, fingering your cunt with skill to draw them out of you. The reactions you give makes his confidence grow, therefore allowing him to take the lead without fear of letting you down. He never does let you down, not inside or outside the act of making love. 

Pulling his hand away, you moan from the loss, and he eases the ache in your core by urging you to lay down. Your pants were discarded quickly before he returned to pleasure you, this time using his tongue instead of his hands. It was as if he needed to taste you, the man was determined and spread your legs to delve into your cunt, his tongue sliding through your folds to capture your clit in his mouth. “Zach!” You gasp from the contact, feeling the hypersensitivity of his actions. He teased you a little by licking up and down, drinking your desire before taking your clit back inside his mouth with the dirtiest grunt he could produce. 

Zach loves to make you climax with only his tongue. It makes him feel proud of his own abilities, makes him feel like the best lover you’ve ever had. Your praising whimpers tell him as much as he brings you to the brink of an orgasm. “Yes. Just like that, keep going,” You say, brows knitting together with bliss. “Shit, I’m gonna cum already,” You whine, and he looks up to admire your face, to adore the way your cheeks are pink from his actions and the way your eyes are hazed over with lust, threatening to close any second now with ecstasy.

The vibrations of his voice humming into your pussy sends you over the edge with a cry of his name, your hands dropping down to his hair to hold on for leverage, holding onto him like he was your lifeline, stopping you from floating off to cloud nine. You rode out the waves of your pleasure, the peak of your orgasms prolonged even further as he continued to flick his tongue against your clit. The throaty mewls erupting from you tells the man your approaching over-stimulation and he pulls away, granting you mercy. 

“Love when you grab my hair like that, baby.” He growls when moving up your body, to which you feel humorous and retort, “It’s a wonder how you’re not missing any,” You laugh and shake your head. “I pull too hard sometimes.” Zach smiles, agreeing and disagreeing with that statement. “Yeah, maybe, you’re right, but I love when you pull hard, gorgeous. Don’t I sometimes leave little bruises on your hips?” He asks, and you nod with understanding, seeing his point. 

Laughing softly together, you pull him in and press your lips against his, humming with delight over the taste of your own cunt. It’s obvious why he likes giving oral so damn much when you taste sweet. Muffled whines could be heard as he slots himself between your legs, the direct contact of his cock slipping between your folds making you wrap your legs around his back and lock your ankles together. Zach grinds into you, using the action to lube himself up before notching at your entrance. 

You break from the kiss to press your forehead against his, gazing into his beautiful brown eyes and mirroring his loving expression as he gently eases inside. “Nghh,” He moans brokenly, choking out stuttered breaths of satisfaction until buried to the hilt deep inside. You squeeze and pulse around him, savouring the sensation of feeling so full of his cock. “I love you, Y/N.” He whispers, to which you reply. “I love you too, Zach.” 

Making love to each other on the living room floor of his home, furniture and boxes laying around in places where it shouldn’t be, you each were thankful for putting the blinds up on the windows this morning otherwise the neighbours would have seen everything, however they most definitely heard you crying joyous tears later in the evening when Zach handed you a key. 

The offer to move in with him.

-

Tagging:

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[wardenparker]

In the Still of the Night, ch 1

Zach Wellison x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Grown up and looking to the future, Zach Wellison and bunkmate Shane Morrissey are working for a new cruise line that offers its guests a vintage Vegas experience on the Mediterranean. The romantic atmosphere is rubbing off on many of the crew members, and Zach finds himself to be no exception when he meets the beautiful lead singer of Shane's band.

But being wrapped in the seductive arms of an atmospheric cruise is a far cry from real life. How will their relationship fare on dry land? They can't know unless they try.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 11.7k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, cooking, eating, discussion of clothing/costumes. Mentions of prison time served, mentions of past homelessness.* Just absolute fluff. We're starting strong with a chapter full of flirting. Summary: In the first few weeks working in the kitchen of a cruise ship supper club, Zach has developed a crush on the club's jazz singer. Notes: Welcome darlings! We're so excited to welcome Zach Wellison and Shane 'Dio' Morrissey to the soulmate universe!

There’s a peace that come with the early morning hours. The darkness is only cut by the lights from the interior of the ship. The sound of the water and waves are all Zach can hear from where he is standing against the rails, looking down at the faint waves as they rush by the hull of the cruise liner.

It’s been a long hard road to where he is right now. Clawing his way up from depression, despair and anger. Slowly starting to believe that he deserves to be happy, deserves to do more than sleep on the ground and cart everything he owns in a backpack and be on guard with a pipe in his hand.

Now he has a room – although he had a roommate – with a bunk that is all his own. A small, but growing, collection of personal items plus a bank account that has more than a few dollars in it. It has made him think about other things. Like the mark that he wears, the link between him and the soulmate that happens to be out there somewhere in the vastness of the ocean that would be between them.

******

"Behind! Hot!" The calls come frequently and loudly enough to count as orders these days, the chaos of the kitchen being calmer than the battlefield but sometimes not by much. Today there is extra incentive to be on top of their game because of some VIP reservation, but Zach is able to focus on his task. All of his focus goes to the job at hand, because it isn't the customers he's cooking for this afternoon, but his coworkers.

Since getting a second chance at life after hitting rock bottom, Zach has worked his ass off. He still is the live-in maintenance manager for the little apartment building he lives in, but he has found that working in a kitchen was where he was truly happy. Taking a job that had at first been about having that extra cushion and security, then had developed into the passion that made him eager to rush into the chaotic kitchen where he seemed to thrive under pressure. It was almost cathartic, to be able to work through stress, although this stress doesn’t involve someone shooting at him.

"You good, Wellison?" His boss is across the kitchen accepting a shipment, and the answer is pretty much always yes, but he still checks in.

“Yep.” Zach narrows his eyes as he continues to whip the cream to the perfect consistence before folding it into the broth. “Good as gold.”

"Heard." He knew the answer but he's still glad to hear it. It means he's able to sign off on this delivery and shake the hand of the other man standing outside with a smirk on his face. "You're lurking, dude," he laughs, moving past the back door to greet his brother.

“Just making the most of my short time off.” Chuckling, and relieved to be back on land, he pulls his brother in a crushing hug. “Smells great in here.” He huffs. “Must not be your recipe.”

"Har har." Rolling his eyes, the chef waves off the jibe. "How long are you on leave?"

“Two days.” Snorting, he shakes his head. “I have to interview a bunch of knuckleheads to try to find someone to fit the vibe of my new dinner club.”

"That's the jazz thing, right? Rat Pack Vegas vibes?" As long as they're outside, he'll take the chance to smoke a cigarette. It's murder on the taste buds but so fucking necessary for getting through the day. "You have a menu yet?"

“Not yet.” Running a new concept on a cruise liner is hard. “They gave complete control to us since this is the first if it’s kind.”

The older brother snorts. "They handed you a restaurant and you have two days to hire staff to cook a menu you haven't written yet? Cruise ships make no sense to me."

“Yeah, you’re telling me.” He laughs. “I’m think something family style, but with a twist?” He offers, knowing his brother would understand. “Maybe timeless classics? Old style American?”

"Like supper club style?" A drag off of his cigarette is time to think, and he nods. "Pluck a place right out of the 60s and stick it in the middle of the ocean. Oysters Rockefeller, steak Diane...French sauces and strong drinks?"

“Very strong drinks.” He grins. “Our cocktails will only be available in the club.”

"Sounds like a place Dad would have loved." Both brothers laugh at that. They had followed their father's footsteps into culinary work and never looked back. So why stop at just the profession?

“Smoked gin and tonics for the win.” He steals the cigarette from his brother and takes a drag, groaning in pleasure. He doesn’t have time to smoke most days, so he’s pretty much quit, but there’s something about a good puff on a cigarette that touches his soul.

"You wanna come in?" With his little brother off on a cruise ship serving from a floating kitchen every single day for years, they don't get to see each other much. "Family meal's almost ready. Hang out a while."

“Sure.” He had been to many family dinners at his father’s restaurant and enjoys them. “Thanks.”

The smell only intensifies when they go back inside, and it becomes clear that this particular family meal is more like a family feast. A hotel pan of Monterey Chicken made with the odds and ends of slab bacon and Monterey cheese blocks smothered in the end of a batch of scratch barbecue sauce looks like a masterpiece, and the scraps of vegetables that have become a medley rather than ending up in a stock pot are beautifully roasted. The cook who went after this feast has even made rolls studded with the stems of fresh herbs, and the entire staff are salivating over the offering.

“I’m impressed.” Looking at the meal that is laid out, it looks like something that would be prepared for a special event rather than the family style dinner that had become such a tradition when their father had been alive and running his restaurant. “You’ve stepped up your game from the meals we ended up making.”

“By outsourcing,” the older of the two brothers admit with a laugh. “Zach, come here a second.”

Zach might be annoyed by the interruption, but no one would ever know it. He finishes wiping the rim of a four inch pan and quickly strips off his gloves, wiping his hands as he turns around. “Sure thing, chef.” He notices a man standing beside him and nods. “What’s up?”

“I want you to meet somebody.” His chef explains, gesturing to the look-alike younger man beside him. “My brother Sam. He’s—” It will be such a loss if Zach decides to go that he almost doesn’t want to do it, but the kid deserves something good after the hell he’s been through. “He’s got a new place opening that I think you might like the sound of.”

“Oh yeah?” His brows lift and for a split second, he wonders if his work has been lacking and his boss is trying to get rid of him. But Toby isn’t like that, so he looks over at the other man. “A place like here?” He asks.

"A little different." Sam leans against the nearest wall with one shoulder. Hands in his pockets, he surveys the man in front of him with interest. "Supper club on a cruise ship. We're doing old school Vegas all over the ship so the vibe is classic dishes revamped. It's an experimental sort of thing where we'll have entertainment during service. But the fun part is that we pretty much have free reign on the menu as long as we work within our genre."

“A ship?” Zach has been on a ship before. When he was in the Marines, he was assigned as the Marine detachment to a battle group for six months. It was the best sleep he had ever had. “A supper club?” He hums. “That sounds like a challenge, a fun one. Live entertainment? What kind?”

"A four-piece band and a singer. The intention is to evoke the Rat Pack days on the Vegas strip, so the band will do jazz standards and jazz covers of contemporary songs. There's that..." Sam struggles for a moment, trying to remember the name of the band. "Is it...Postmodern Jukebox? That style." He can tell the kid – alright, he’s not a kid but he's definitely younger than Sam is – is interested so he nudges a little. "It would be six months on the Mediterranean for the maiden voyage. Living and working and everything else on the ship with occasional trips ashore. Sound like an adventure you might be interested in?"

His eyes shift towards Toby to see what his boss thinks about all this, but all he sees is that his boss is smiling and nodding along as if it sounds like a great idea. “I loved being on ship in the Marines.” He admits, more willing to talk about his service now that he had when he first started. There were a couple of vets in the kitchen with him and they had bonded over hard work that was still better than being shot at. “You need a prep cook? Something like that?”

"Actually?" Sam is feeling nearly fucking victorious about this little introduction, but he tries not to show it too much. Not yet, anyway. "I'm going to be executive chef of two restaurants on the ship, so I'm going to need a hell of a Chef de Cuisine to run this club for me. Think you might be up to it?"

Zach nearly chokes in surprise, sure that this is some kind of joke. “Just like that?” He asks, looking between the brothers.

"I wouldn't have even mentioned you if I didn't think you could do it." His boss promises. "It would be a hell of an opportunity for you." It's good experience for his resume, and it's a chance to save money. Toby won't mention it out loud in the middle of the kitchen but he knows that will be good for Zach.

"And I'll take my brother's recommendation over anything else." Sam nods. "I've got some interviews to do for the rest of the kitchen staff. If you want to be a part of this process, we'll sit down to family meal and then we'll get out of here. Work on a menu before we start those interviews."

There’s almost a surreal feel to this entire moment. As if he’s dreaming because opportunities like this don’t just fall into people’s laps for real. That’s for the movies. He takes a moment and nods. “Yeah- yes.” He corrects himself. “I would love that, When would I expected to be on ship?” He asks. “I’m - I have another job as a live in maintenance guy for my building.” He explains. “Would want to give them as much notice as possible.”

"I've got two days before I have to be back." Sam tells him, but laughs and waves one hand when Zach looks gobsmacked. "I have to finish out another contract. We've got a month before we've got to be onboard for this one. So you'd have plenty of time to give notice and we'll have time to work on our menu. I just have to get these interviews done while I'm on dry land."

Again, Zach looks towards Toby. “I don’t want to leave you shorthanded the next couple of days….” He tells his boss. “Do you want me to see if I can find someone?”

Toby shakes his head though, seeing how badly Zach wants this thing he never even knew he could have before. "I'll call my guy at the CIA and see if he can send me a student for a few days. I'll move one of the prep cooks up to your line position while you get this done." He pats the younger man on the shoulder twice – his standard display of affection – and smiles. "This is gonna be good for you, man. And if you decide it's not your thing and you wanna be back on land after giving it a try, you just come on back."

There’s a feeling of security in being assured that he would be welcomed back. “Okay.” He agrees, looking over at Sam. “I’ll do it.”

"Fantastic." Sam puts out his hand and they shake, sealing the deal with enthusiasm. "Let's go eat. If your food is half as good as it smells, this club is going to be packed."

******

Even though the quiet of the night is soothing, it’s been a long day. Eventually Zach heads inside and takes the elevator down to the lower levels where the crew quarters are located. Knocking on his door twice before opening so he doesn’t see anything he doesn’t want to from his roommate.

"Hey man." Shane is on his bunk, phone still in hand, though his relaxed posture says that he's just finished this nightly phone call rather than been interrupted.

“Hey.” He moves over to his clothes cabinet and starts to immediately remove his toiletry kit. He needs a shower before he can crawl into the sheets. A far cry from when he didn’t know when he would be clean.

"Diana says hi." The other man waggles his phone in the air. Even though his bunkmate and his soulmate have never met, she's a fairly gregarious extrovert who can make friends even second hand – so she always sends her greetings along with every phone call if Zach isn't in the room to respond at the time.

“How’s she doing?” He smiles to himself, grateful that his roommate has been an easy friend and his soulmate even friendlier. “I know she’s counting down the days.”

“She started counting the second we left New York.” Shane had a certain amount of very real pride in his relationship with his soulmate. It’s the healthiest thing in his life without a doubt, and that’s a life that hasn’t had too many healthy things. “No surprise she’s been working doubles while we’re out here. It’s not like there’s a single Emergency Department in New York City that doesn’t need extra doctor all the fuckin time.”

“That’s the truth.” Zach snorts and closes his locker. “You need in the bathroom? I want to jump in the shower.”

“Nah, go ahead.” The older of the two men shakes his head. “I’ll take a cold one in the morning and wake myself up. Got some new material to rehearse.”

“It sounded good from the kitchen.” Even with the heavy din of clashing pots and clinking plates, the sounds of the band can be heard when the wait staff flow in and out of the kitchen.

“Thanks, man.” Shane stretches, groaning slightly and privately cursing crossing the age of thirty. Everything has hurt since. “We’ve got some new numbers and transitions and things to work out, but it’s coming along.”

“That’s great. Let me know if we need to tweak the menu for the new set.” Zach tells him. He’s already swiped some shorts and he heads into their shared shower.

Shane will tell him later, but he’d sooner pull teeth than change the menu at the club on ship where they both work. His bunkmate is a hell of a cook to the point where the band’s singer is obsessed with nearly everything that comes out of that kitchen. He can’t blame her. That’s the kind of food he used to dream about it the chow line when he was locked up.

The bathroom is tiny but efficiently set up. Serving the needs of both men without wasting space and the best part was that there was unlimited hot water coming through the pipes. Zach turns on the water and stares at his reflection. He’s tired, but at the same time, he’s been having a great time.

There is never a shortage of things to do on the ship, mostly because the staff party hard in their downtime. Most of the staff work multiple positions so they’re constantly busy. It makes that downtime they have both precious and very necessary. In the two weeks since they came on board there have been parties every night. It’s a lot, but it’s also a lot of fun.

As quick as he jumps in, he’s jumping out and opening the door to vent the steam. “Are we drinking tonight?” He calls out, wondering if his roommate was tired or if he’s gotten his second wind.

“You wanna go?” Shane calls back, and Zach can hear movement from the other room. “Wouldn’t take much to talk me into it.”

“I could use a beer or three.” Zach admits. He’s careful not to over indulge and develop a habit, but he actually likes socializing with the rest of the crew.

“Club’s empty.” Shane suggests. He’s hopped to his feet and thrown his boots back on, and is now inspecting his eyeliner Ina small wall mirror when Zach comes back in the room. “I’ll see if anybody wants to meet us there.”

“The bar would be easy to access.” All of the terminals are set up to become the crew bar for the night.” Zach tells him. “But you are not going to play.” He warns. “Just let someone use their playlist.”

“But what if I want to play?” Shane poses, waggling his eyebrows in challenge. “Musicians are impossible to stop, man. We just go and go.”

“Good for you, I guess.” Zach snorts, rolling his eyes playfully. “I just figured you would want to set me up with another girl.”

“Oh, I absolutely do.” This bunkmates claps him on the shoulder with a smirk after he’s shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Ready to go?”

“Sure thing.” His latest obsession is with a new cologne that Toby’s wife had given him as a birthday present - early - before he left, so he adds that to the pulse points and hums when he rakes his fingers through his hair. “Now we can go. I smell good.”

“Now we can go.” Shane teases, but play-shoves Zach out of their little cabin and toward the stairs without hesitation. For all the bullshit he put himself and the people around him through as a kid and as a young man, ever since he got released he’s made the active decision to try to be a better influence. More positive. For himself and for the people around him. Sure he slips up here and there, but he’s only human. What matters is that he tries.

Shane Morrissey is a good man, upfront and honest. He had told Zach that he wouldn’t hold it against him if he didn’t want to bunk with a former felon, Zach had relearned to judge a man by the weight of their character now instead of the mistakes of their past. He knows all too well what happens when you are too harshly judged and looked down on. It had actually be a perfect situation since Zach didn’t feel the need to hide his own past and had not seen the pity or judgement that might come from others. “I need a beer and like- three shots man.” Zach groans as they trail down the hallway towards the elevators.

“And someone to flirt with.” Shane insists, still steering the way. Truthfully, Zach needs to get laid just to fucking relax a little but both men know it’s not always that easy.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve flirted?” Zach snorts, shoulder checking his friend. “I would embarrass both of us.”

“All the more reason to get back in the fucking saddle,” Shane points out. He jams his finger into the call button for the elevator and leans against the wall to wait. “If I kind find my soulmate in a fucking ER bay, you can flirt with drunk coworkers. I believe in you, man.”

He chuckles at the confidence the pianist has in him. “Keep it up.” He teases. “I’ll think you’re in love with me.”

Playfully, fraternal, Shane rolls his eyes when the elevator to his right dings and slides open to admit them. “Get in the damn elevator, kid,” he gripes to the man barely two years younger than him.

“Sure thing, daddy.” Zach bites his lip playfully, completely enjoying the way Shane turns beet red at the mention of that nickname. He had accidentally heard that part of a conversation when he had come into his cabin without knocking the second day on the ship.

“Shut the fuck up.” Shane mumbles, now jamming his finger into the button to select their deck. “Diana likes it. You think I’m gonna tell a woman that smoking hot who wears all my stupid ass scars no?” He likes it too, it’s just not easy to admit. It’s not easy to bare even the smallest parts of himself sometimes.

“I’m just teasing.” Zach reaches out and pats the other man’s shoulder. “I only wish I had a fraction of what you and Diana have. I’m fucking jealous. And if my soulmate is half as pretty, she could call me daddy any time she wanted.” He adds with a snort.

“You’ll find her.” The vote of confidence Shane has in the other man really comes from just knowing that life works in weird fucking ways most of the time. But instead of getting philosophical, he elbows the former Marine. “Maybe one of those room keys you get slipped every fuckin day will be the one.”

“Shiiiiiiiit.” It’s the craziest thing that he’s ever seen in his life. He would have never expected to have passengers slip him a room key and ask him to join them before. Some are older, obvious cougars on the prowl, but a few of them have been his age and he’s been tempted, but he couldn’t risk his contract, his job.

“We get them too, the band, but not the sheer fucking quantity you do, man.” The elevator jolts to a less than smooth stop and Shane grins. “Excellent.”

“Someone needs to look at that.” Zach huffs as he steps off the crew elevator. “I think they expect me to cook for them in the room or something.”

“Some of them, probably.” The two men make their way along the hallway with purpose. “But there’s worse things in life than getting fucked and making somebody breakfast after.”

“You aren’t wrong.” Zach snorts. He’s never been a very casual person when it comes to sex, but he’s had some flings. “Maybe I will.”

“If there ever comes a night that you don’t make it back to the room, I’ll celebrate for you.”

“Thanks.” The entrance to the club is a large circle, the double doors exactly half of each side and the brass handles are trumpets. Immediately making Zach relax as he knows the inside of this place better than anywhere else on the ship.

The inside has been decorated with a combination of plush-looking fabrics in rich colors and art that invokes the best sixties nostalgia, with just a dash of Sam’s native New Orleans to top the whole thing off. It feels welcoming and luxurious for guests, but those same open arms are here to embrace the staff as well.

“Anybody here yet?” Shane calls from the threshold, seeing as the lights are already on.

Zach doesn’t spend much time in the actual lounge, he’s too busy back in the kitchens making sure each plate is perfect before it’s sent out to the passengers. It’s still new, but so far, every seat in the house has been booked and the reviews have been raving.

"Shane!" Two of the other members of the band have made it there first, and they appear from around the corner with drinks already in hand. "Zach! Hey man, what a fucking day."

“It was pretty busy.” He admits with a grin. The band often plays out on the main deck for the passengers lounging around the pool, even though the space is covered, it’s hot out there. “I swear the breakfast buffet never stops sometimes.”

“Never.” The band’s bassist, Rick, shakes his head as he reaches over to pat Zach’s shoulder. “How you been, man? We don’t get to see you much in that kitchen.”

“Busy.” He chuckles. “Gotta put them in a good mood with the food so you can croon to them and make them feel like they are in a jazz club just for them.”

“You don’t want me doing any of the crooning.” Rick jokes. “That wouldn’t put anybody in a good mood.”

“It’s true.” Shane agrees, coming up behind them both. “Come on, we need drinks.”

“Yes we do.” Zach nods. “Especially after today!” He had nearly half of the supper club wanting the special so he had been busy.

"You have to bring that special back." Shane insists, making his way over to grab beers for himself and his bunkmate. "I think our singer was drunk on the smell. That's like all she talked about between sets, was how good it smelled."

“Did she get one of the plates?” Zach always makes some extra plates for the crew and the band, wanting them to be able to know the menus as well as they can.

"Nope." Rick shakes his head and takes a swig from his own beer. "Gave hers up to a waitress who had had a shitty table. I think that's why she was so fixated."

“Man, that sucks.” Zach has only caught glimpses of the headliner, often too busy to really introduce himself - it’s not because she’s insanely beautiful and he’s developed a bit of a crush just from the way she seems to sing to him, but he would want her to have some. “I’ll have to make sure she gets a plate next time.”

"You should hand deliver it." Shane waggles his eyebrows. "For bonus points."

“No way man.” Zach scoffs. “There’s absolutely no way she’d be interested in me.”

"Who?" The band's drummer, and Rick's bunkmate, Keo, emerges from the kitchen with his own drink already in hand, looking a shade guilty. Like the bottomless pit he is, the youngest member of the band has probably been rooting around for unmarked things to snack on.

Zach chuckles and shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. Don’t tell me I need to do a club snack for us?” He teases.

Keo and Shane's faces light up, like this is a possibility they had never considered and now it's the thing they want most in the entire world. It's Shane, though, who pulls the trigger. "But what would you make?" He asks, already knowing his bunkmate can't resist that sort of challenge.

Zach knows the galley pantry like the back of his hand and what he has left over from the meal tonight. “Prime rib croquettes with creamy horseradish sauce and tempura Tiger prawns with Thai chili sauce.” He decides.

"Duuuuuude." Keo groans, wide-eyed and sounding like someone just taunted him with the greatest richest in some magical kingdom. "You can't just say things like that, man!"

Zach snorts and claps him on the shoulder. “Tell you what, you go get me a drink and I’ll fire up the cookers so we can drink and eat.”

"The hero of the hour!" Another voice from the doorway proclaims, only having heard the words 'drink and eat' come from someone they recognize as kitchen staff. This won't be a large party but it will be a party, and a few more people spill through the door in turn.

"I'll make you something good, man." Keo promises. Musicians who were bartenders in previous jobs are not rare but they are good to have around, and Keo was a hell of a bartender.

“I’ll hold you to it!” He has free range over his space and there are a few more ideas that he can try out tonight and use the crew as his test dummies. They never hold back their opinions on the food and he loves that, always striving to make it better.

The large handful of people who flood into the space ends up totaling more than a dozen within just a few minutes of Zach disappearing into the kitchen, but the last one through the door is finally dressed down after a day of performing and being on for passengers.

Jeans and a sweatshirt. That’s all it is for you after dark, though you would stay dressed up if you had someone to impress. When it’s just Shane and the boys, though? They can stand to see you without full hair and makeup.

Shouts of your name ring out because the music hasn’t started yet, Zach hearing it from the kitchen. He perks up slightly and hates how he feels his pulse picks up knowing you are here.

"That's a hell of a welcome," you tease, gratefully accepting a cocktail when it's pressed into your hand and doling out hugs to your bandmates. These guys have become your family in just a few short months, so much so that taking this adventure on the ship together seemed like a no-brainer. Each of you had things that had brought you into New York City but few of you have any ties to bring you back there, which makes this floating madhouse all the more fun.

The ship was the best decision you could have made, in a lot of ways. There is a camaraderie here that you couldn't have anticipated and it soothes you in equally unexpected ways. While you love spending your regular time with the guys in the band, you've found a friend in your bunkmate as well, which is great when River is just as excited to do to these staff parties as you are.

In the kitchen, the fryers are heating up and Zach works quickly to whip up a tempura batter. The fried prawns won’t take but a minute, but while it's resting, he's mixing up the shredded prime rib with some leftover fresh breadcrumbs and making meatball sized bites to stuff with cheese. Coated in panko, it will be a delicious little appetizer and something that he had been thinking about adding to the dinner menu one night.

The party is starting to kick up in the club. He can hear music start to play and people chattering over each other while he works. The atmosphere is laid back enough and it’s not too late at night that they can be assured of a few hours of uninterrupted revelry — just the way everyone likes it.

The music starts to filter back into the kitchen, making Zach wish that they had installed speakers, but he can hear the music every time the door swings open. He hears the door behind him, and he calls outs, “where’s my drink!”

“It’s right here.” The door thwaps shut behind you and you juggle the glass in your hand so the ice rattles. “But you have to be nice or I’ll drink it myself.”

“Oh!” He hadn’t been expecting that voice, whirling around to find you, the girl that he’s been crushing on the smokey smooth vocals being performed every night, standing on the other side of the stainless counter with his drink in your hand. “I— uh, I thought you were Shane.” He flusters, feeling his cheeks heat up as you smirk at him.

“Not last time I checked.” In fact, that little shit had been teasing you mercilessly lately about the crush you’ve developed on the hot chef at the club and specifically shoved you through the door with his drink just to bust you up about it. “It’s Zach, right?” As if you don’t already know. As if you hadn’t found out his name right away.

“Yeah— uh, that’s – that’s me.” The fact that he’s stumbling over his words makes him want to kick Shane’s ass, as well as his own. He used to be able to talk to pretty women with confidence. He says your name easily. “Of course I know the voice I hear every night.”

“Should I apologize?” You ask, mostly rhetorically, and set his glass down on the counter between you. “If you can identify it already, you’ll be sick of hearing me before too long.”

“Not at all.” Zach snorts. “Sometimes your song sets are what power the kitchen through the night.” He tells you. “I wish I had them put speakers in here.”

“Really?” The tips of your ears are immediately on fire and you try not to look too pleased at that, imagining him in here listening to you sing whenever the doors open and close. That answers your silent wondering if he had ever cared to listen. “Do you…have a favorite? Something I can put into the set on busy nights for you, maybe?”

“Crazy.” Zach immediately says, before he coughs and turns back around to his mixing bowl to continue to roll out the snacks. “It’s unique and I swear the first time I thought it was a recording of Patsy Cline, but then you changed the words.”

“I thought the last verse deserved a little hope,” you admit, feeling your cheeks heat to match your ears. “A song about broken love and broken trust can be beautiful, sure. But life without hope is just too sad for me.”

“That’s why I love it.” Zach admits, glancing over his shoulder at you and then back down at what he’s doing. “I heard you sing it from the depths of your soul.”

With your glass halfway to your lips, you can only pause and hope you don't look nearly as flustered as you actually are. "It's for you, then." You tell him, wondering what the hell has gotten into you. "Anytime you hear it. It's for you."

Zach is so damn grateful that his back is turned so you can’t see the way he flushes hot. “There’s been some times I’ve needed something to cling to, and that song….it reminds me of that. Beautiful melancholy.”

"Same." Gently, deliberately, you slide up to the counter to lean your elbows on the stainless steel. "I don't know what you're doing in here but everything you make smells so fucking good."

He chuckles, preening slightly and his shoulders straighten slightly. “You should have sent word you needed another plate.” He looks back at you again. “I would have made sure you got a new one.”

"I didn't know I could call in special privileges." Sure, you're teasing. But his cheeks have pinked in the most adorable way and maybe just maybe you won't murder Shane for shoving you through the kitchen door after all. "Giving me that power might be dangerous."

He laughs as he drops the first round of croquettes into the fryer. “Yeah?” He turns around and smirks slightly. “You would abuse the power?”

"Constantly." There is an accidental groan in your voice, but it's honest so you just shrug it off. "I swear that chicken thing you did last week with the herby butter inside it? Best thing I've ever had in my life. Hands down."

“I bet I can change your mind on that tonight.” He lifts the basket out of the grease and shakes the cooking food slightly and checks the color. The cheese will melt and become a wonderful gooey surprise in the center. The only thing that would make it better is if he had horseradish cheese. Maybe next time he will grate the cheese and mix it with horseradish for the desired bite. But for tonight, the cream sauce will be a good substitute.

"Oh yeah?" A man who cooks for you is already your favorite man at any given time. That's probably where this little crush came from originally, but it has clung on over the first few weeks on board instead of shaking off like it usually does. Like glitter holding onto your hair with every ounce of determination, this crush is making you giggly and flirty like you're in high school all over again. "What are these?"

Zach waves you behind the counter as he pulls up the fryer basket again. “Prime Rib Croquettes.” He tells you. “Shredded prime rib meatballs basically, stuffed with white cheddar, breaded and fried.” He grabs two of the balls and drizzles the horseradish sauce on a plate before he lays them on it carefully and wipes the plate clean out of habit before turning and presenting it to you. “Tell me what you think. This is my first time playing with the idea.”

“So I’m your guinea pig?” Why that theory delights you so much, you’re not really sure, but you lean on the counter with a very serious expression. “Well they look beautiful. Let’s see if they’re as good as they look.” The little nuggets are bite sized and crispy, and when you pop the first one into your mouth the first thing that happens is the bone-rattling groan that rolls through you. The flavor is incredible and the outside crunches while the inside melts in your mouth — salty, unctuous, spicy, creamy, umami goodness making you close your eyes and hold onto the taste while you eat.

“That.” You still have your eyes closed but you point in the vicinity of the plate. “Is the best thing ever.”

You make the food sound sexual which makes Zach’s body react if a very primal way. Shifting slightly, he picks up another one from the basket and squirts the sauce directly on it. “Yeah?”

“Seriously.” You nod enthusiastically. “Eat one. You’re a genius.”

Zach pops it into his mouth and chews. Groaning while he’s analyzing the flavor profile and wondering if anything needs to be added. “Would you want a red wine au jus reduction dipping sauce if there was horseradish in the croquette or leave it as is?” He asks you seriously.

Laughing is probably a self-conscious reaction, but you look up at him with a slightly cringed expression. “I don’t have any idea what a red wine juice—whatever you just said,” you admit. “But I like wine and I like horseradish, and I like this, so probably.”

He chuckles quietly, nodding as he motions to the other one. “Well, when I put this on the menu as an appetizer, why don’t I offer both and see what you think?”

You have absolutely no shame in picking up the other fried nugget of delicious glory, and practically hold it up to him in salute. “I promise you a full report, and look forward to finding out whatever a red wine juice is.”

“Au jus.” He smiles as he watches you eat the next bite. “It’s French.” He explain. “It means ‘with juice’.”

No power in the world could stop you from finishing and thoroughly enjoying that second bite, but when you do you grin at him unrepentantly. “So I was right. It is red wine juice. Just fancy.”

“Fancy.” He chuckles. “It’s actually the drippings from the prime rib, reduced down with red wine until I make it the best tasting sauce you’ve ever put in your mouth.”

“Oh my god.” Even just explained, it sounds amazing, and you groan at the thought of it, though the sound turns to laughter after a second or two. “That sounds amazing. You can probably tell that I know nothing about cooking.”

“That’s okay.” He chuckles as he drops another round of the croquettes to fry and then turns towards the prawns. “I know plenty.”

Warmth curls in your belly, low and teasing and curious, and you suck a drop of the cream sauce off your thumb with a flashed grin under intentionally lowered lashes. “Is this where I suggest that you teach me?”

Zach watches you for a moment, wondering if you are flirting with him, because it feels like you are flirting with him. "Somehow I think that you wouldn't really want to learn how to cook." He teases.

"Fuck, that was awful, wasn't it?" You laugh, dropping your cheek over to one palm in a sort of sheepish expression of apology. "Unless you like cheesy flirting, in which case it was totally intentional and I'm owning it."

"Then you own it." Zach snorts, grinning at you happily as he waggles his brows. "I'm so out of practice flirting that all of it is cheesy."

"All flirting is cheesy anyway, that has nothing to do with being out of practice." As if to dispel any idea that it could be otherwise, you wave one hand and scoop up your drink with the other. "I am interested in learning to cook, for the record. But...call it a secondary interest."

"Okay." He nods and lifts a brow playfully. "Are we at burning water skill levels? Or can you at least feed yourself?" He asks. "What am I working with here?"

"I can follow reheat instructions, make macaroni and cheese from a box, and make a hell of a sandwich. But anything past that?" You shrug, but the whole thing stays playful and you flash him a grin. "I can proudly say I've never burnt water."

"Now I'm sure that I'm supposed to be horrified that you eat mac and cheese from a box...." Zach shrugs. "But that shit is good sometimes."

"You would be more horrified if you had seen my one attempt at making it from scratch," you promise him, though you're absolutely able to laugh at your past food follies. "Do you know that show Worst Cooks in America? I would be an excellent candidate."

"That bad?" He can't help but laugh, but you are grinning with him. He pulls the rest of the croquettes out of the hot oil and smirks as he starts to batter the fresh prawns in the airy batter and dropping them into the grease to start bubbling.

"I've got a lot to learn." He has the most fantastic laugh, and it rolls through you until your stomach flips all over again. "About cooking anyway. Not—not other stuff." Yeah...maybe you're out of practice too. That's okay, though. "So...what are those?"

“Uh.” Zach clears his throat as his thoughts when decidedly X-rated and he looks down at what he was doing off of muscle memory. “Tempura prawns.” He tells you. “Gonna toss them in a chili sauce.”

"Oh, come on." A delighted moan of anticipation slips from your lips but you don't care. "That sounds incredible."

“I thought it would make the best kind of party snack.” He admits. “And give me some feedback.”

"You were absolutely right." You promise him, watching as he moves around the corner of the kitchen with confidence and a graceful economy of movement. "I've never met anybody more consistently hungry than a bunch of musicians, and that's who is out there for the most part."

“Ha!” Zach snorts. “You’ve never met a bunch of marines.” He tells you as he rushes to get the chili sauce. It would be better to warm it up.

"No, can't say I have." Self-consciously, your fingers brush over your shoulder where the aged lines of a warrior's tattoo are forever marked in your skin. Thankfully Zach is looking away in that moment, and doesn't see the flicker of something longing and unknown in your eyes. "You served?"

“Yeah.” It’s taken him a long time to come back to being able to talk about his service even casually, but he doesn’t feel the need to be defensive with you. Despite being the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen, he’s comfortable with you. He starts to warm up the sauce and finally picks up the drink you had brought him. “Six years.”

"I'm getting the sense that 'thank you for your service' is maybe not your favorite thing to hear?" He finally steps away from cooking to come back over to the counter you've been leaning on and for the first time you catch the little flecks of gold in his eyes.

“It’s okay.” He promises softly, wincing as he hopes he didn’t come off as angry like he used to. “It’s just- it didn’t end well.” He admits. “Still feel guilty sometimes.”

"Well..." This doesn't seem to be a very happy topic and we were flirting just a minute and a half ago, so you try to steer things back to a more upbeat direction if you can. You know all about making sacrifices for the thing you thought was right. It doesn't always leave the most positive feelings in its wake. "Hopefully now you're doing something that you love?"

“I love being in the kitchen.” Zach flashes you a grin as he looks up from stirring the sauce and moves back over to pull up the prawns. “It’s honestly soothing.”

"And you're amazing at it." Not that you mind watching, either. If you happen to catch the movement of his back muscles under his t-shirt every time he turns around to work on something? Well, that's just a fringe benefit for you.

“It’s about being able to execute and plan.” He tells you as he transfers the prawns into a bowl and reaches for the sauce pot. He drizzles the chili sauce over the fried seafood and starts to toss them in the bowl. “And adapt to overcome any obstacles that might arise.”

"Sounds like good organizational skills wrapped around a creative outlet." You observe, watching the deft, quick movements of his hands as he continues to work. If you maybe imagine other things those hands could be good for? Well, that's just for you. "Food is art, isn't it? I've always thought so, anyway."

“It absolutely is.” He agrees before he plucks a prawn out of the bowl and offers it to you. “Tell me what you think.”

If you were ten years younger you might have nipped that bite right out of his fingertips and let your tongue linger just to tease, but you’re both adults. You’re a little past the point of overt horniness with total strangers.

Probably.

So instead you take the offering from him with two careful fingers, and pop it in your mouth with the highest of expectations. Expectation which are immediately met, as one more heavenly groan escapes you and you positively giggle with glee.

“You like it.” He can tell and there’s just a drop of the warm chili sauce on your lip, right in the corner that makes Zach want to lick it off your lips.

“S’that obvious?” You grin, practically giggling through the end of the bite and licking up the drop of missed sauce along with it.

“I guess you’re hungry since you gave away your dinner.” He supposes. “So you have to make up for it now.”

Curiosity makes your head pop up again, and your forehead creases in question. “How did you know about that?”

“Shane told me.” He admits, reaching for another plate so he can fix you more before bringing out the food for everyone else. “Said you had been drooling over the smells but you didn’t get to eat.”

“That’s a very attractive picture of me that he’s painted,” you huff, almost rolling your eyes. Of course Shane gave you up. He’s been telling you to talk to Zach for ages now but you hadn’t had the guts.

He chuckles softly. “I took it as a compliment. Like half of my staff mooning over you instead of working when you start singing.”

“To be fair…” A smart ass grin curls up the corners of your mouth so that you don’t end up flustered With the compliment. Sarcasm is an old shield and good friend when it comes to flattery. For you at least. “That’s just a standard issue Sea Witch enchantment. Very susceptible to magic, your staff.”

“Sea Witch enchantment, huh?” He grins back at you. “You don’t look like I remember Ursula.” He teases. “And I loved The Little Mermaid when I was younger.”

“Makes sense.” That smirk of yours blossoms, ending up in a grin. “You’re a dead ringer for Prince Eric.”

“Me?” Zach shuffles, trying his hardest not to blush but he’s probably failing. “Hopefully I’m not as dumb as he was to not know the woman in front of his was his soulmate.”

“Neither of them had any scars,” you remind him, but the two of you seem locked in a trance for an unexpected moment before your smile widens and the fluttering in your chest deepens. “You’re cute when you blush.”

“Well, they were cartoons.” He snorts, flashing you another smile as he tries not to preen because you think he’s cute.

"So what would a scar for a cartoon character be, then?" The question makes both of you laugh and you shrug. "A tear in the page, I guess?"

“An interesting question.” He hums, picking up his drink and taking a sip of it as he watches you. Thinking that you look so young, so carefree in your relaxed clothes. He’s caught glimpses of you in your gorgeous gowns you wear on stage, but honestly prefers this look.

You laugh, shrugging it off, and don’t let yourself reflect too long on how silly you feel gazing at him across a damn stainless steel counter. “It’s a silly question. But thank you for humoring me.”

“Not silly.” He sets the food into two large pans and reaches for one of the serving carts. “Want to grab a stack of plates and we will go join the party with the food?”

“The least I can do is help if you’re going to feed us magic food.” The plates he points out are nearby, and you help him stack up the cart with everything that’s needed. It’s probably silly to feel like he trusts you by asking — you are right here, you’re the obvious and convenient person to ask — but somehow stacking plates and finding napkins and helping him make room for all of the containers of amazing food he’s made makes you feel…special. It’s silly, but you don’t want to banish the warm feeling in your chest anytime soon.

Zach is grateful you didn’t deliver his drink and just rush out. “Well, maybe everyone else will appreciate it, but you made it magic with your reaction.” Damn, maybe flirting isn’t as hard as he imagined it to be after so many years. Seems to come easy with you.

"I'm very glad you liked it." Maybe you do tend to be slightly pornographic with the sounds of enjoying food from time to time, but there's no reason to be embarrassed about that when you're literally flirting with a chef. In fact, maybe you should have been flirting with chefs all along.

He hums as he motions you towards the door to leave the kitchen first. “After you, madam.” He says playfully. “I will let you lead our procession.” It sounds gentlemanly, but he also gets the added bonus of watching your ass as you walk.

The second the kitchen door opens there is an explosion of sound, and honestly you had almost forgotten that there is a whole damn party going on out here. Keo has music playing but it’s only a matter of time before the band hits the stage again. It doesn’t matter that they just performed for passengers an hour ago. This time is for fun and for them.

“Time to eat!”

If there is one thing that Zach can count on, it’s that the crew will always swarm where there’s food. He grins at your wide eyes with everyone is instantly at the cart he rolled out and surrounding you.

You scurry out of the way with a loud, barked laugh, and practically hurtle yourself into the corner so everybody else can get their plates. You’ve had some already, served especially by the chef, and want everyone else to try the incredible bites that Zach made.

Glad he made plenty, Zach explains what each appetizer is and quickly serves up plate after plate of food. Grinning whenever everyone ‘ohs and ahhhhs’ over his food.

“Isn’t it insane?” He overhears you saying to Rick, nodding enthusiastically a few feet away over another one of the prime rib croquettes. The grin on your face has stretched wide, making you glow.

He puffs up with pride, knowing that it might be silly that you are gushing over his food, but it makes him preen. He straightens slightly as he finally gives out the last plate and can leave the cart to be picked clean by the vultures he calls co-workers.

It’s easy to get swept away from each other in the sea of silliness and general merriment, and before too long your bandmates have dragged you up on stage in an entirely predictable show of what happens when performers spend time with friends.

They always, always perform.

“How did we all end up working?” Zach snorts, although he’s got a drink in his hand and his seat is as close to the stage as he could get without being on it. He never gets this view and he doesn’t care that there’s not a perfectly synchronized light screw working or you aren’t dolled up. Just music and the love to entertain shines and he watches as you laugh and grip the microphone.

Slipping back to the piano one more time to consult with Shane, there is a confident grin on your face when you return to the mic and take it off its stand to be more comfortable on the small rectangle where you perform night after night. "Everybody has tested out Zach's new recipes and now we're going to test out a few new songs," you joke to your coworkers, though it is completely true and no one minds at all.

Zach claps on the table top, eyes glued to you and it’s amazing how warm he feels right now. Like the alcohol in his system has set him on fire.

"This is something Shane and I have been toying with in rehearsals." There is no need for long or fancy introductions to songs, not when you're just having fun, and you turn to Shane to make sure you're starting in time with each other. The first chord on the piano is done in tandem with the first lyric, and the jazz arrangement that you have been slowly working on together takes shape for an audience for the very first time. "My lover's got humor...she's the giggle at a funeral..."

Zach sips his drink, leaning forward slightly and not even noticing it. Eyes fixed on you and ignoring everyone else in the club as they fade into the background.

Take Me to Church is a hell of a good song to begin with, but tonight it takes on an unexpectedly plaintive tone. Like rather than the passionate promise of someone already with the lover in question, you’re asking to be allowed to be with them. Making your case as a potential partner. Or maybe it sounds the way it always has to everyone else and the fact that you keep looking back at Zach in front of you is making your brain fog over with lust…and if that’s the case it would be extremely reasonable…

Completely entranced by the sultry, plaintive tone to your voice, he’s haunted by the idea - the hope - that you are singing to him. Knowing that everyone who sits in your audience probably feels the same way, he watches the way your eyes roam around the room and then land on him for a split second. He knows logically that you are just being a good showman, but he wants you to have the same desire and yearning that has him nearly aching. Even if he’s not physically hard, thank god, because it would be so obvious - his body is lit up with need.

They tug on you like a rope anchored deep in your chest, those few moments of eye contact. They steal your breath and buckle your knees, and when was the last time you had it this bad for a guy you barely knew?

It’s a miracle or a mercy that Shane calls the next song, but you could kill him for the choice. The intro he plays is a well beloved favorite, but the message makes you ache.

Maybe this time I’ll be lucky…maybe this time he’ll stay…maybe this time for the first time…love won’t hurry away…

Your words pierce his soul and make him bleed. He would close his eyes, but he can’t risk losing the sight of you clutching the microphone and pouring your soul into the words. Making him swallow harshly and nearly start to cry from the emotions you are exposing.

The end of the song is a belt, twisting you up as the intensity rises further and further, until the final blow out has you feeling as wrung out as a wet rag and practically sagging at your mic stand. There are tears in your eyes that get dabbed on the sleeve of your sweatshirt and you turn around to grab your drink off the nearby stool with a ragged breath. “Gimme a second,” you mutter to Shane, wondering why — after singing that song a thousand times — this is the one that makes you feel like you have ripped your heart open and left it shattered on the floor.

Maybe this time I’ll win.

No. You know why. That lyric and the man in the front row. Dammit. You really are a fucking sucker when you like someone.

Zach leans forward, wiping his eyes discreetly and hoping he doesn’t look like a wreck. It’s be so goddamn long since he’s had hope. Not hope for his future, but for his heart. His time in the Marine Corps had changed the course of his future and for a long time, he had believed he didn’t have a future at all. Roaming the streets had a tendency to make you hardened towards the ideals of love and life.

“You good?” Shane murmurs from across the piano, vamping to give you time to breathe. Normally a consummate professional, you’re pretty good at holding off your emotions until you’re off stage. He wonders if this is why you never drink while you’re singing. If it makes it harder for you to focus.

“Yeah.” You nod, wishing he hadn’t gone straight for the emotional jugular. “Something more upbeat this time?”

“Sure thing.” Shane nods and immediately transitions into a catchy, fun song that had been last years summer theme song and converted to a supper club song.

This is more like it. A pop song. The rendition of Katy Perry's Roar would go over well with the teens or other daughters of passengers that got dragged out to the supper club because their parents like jazz, and it's a lot of fun for the fifth member of your band. Cliff is a sax player and a hell of a fun guy, but doesn't always get to shine during all of your songs. He's been pitching a cover of Careless Whisper that is going to be a crowd pleaser too. Shane is a hell of a band leader and is working with him to make it phenomenal. For now, Roar is another good place for Cliff to show off.

Shane makes a playful face while you start singing, remembering how he would have at one time hated this song on principle. He was a rotten little fucker, but he has straightened up and he can’t help but admit that it’s catchy. Especially with you singing it.

This is the tempo most people were hoping for. You can see that in the crowd. People react unconsciously to things that make them happy and the brightened faces and straighter backs of your friends and coworkers is obvious. You look over to flash a smile at Shane -- who you know can't believe you talked him into pop songs – and give him a nod. This is the way to go tonight.

There’s something to be said for the energy of the crowd. Zach looks around, the place isn’t packed but there’s more noise coming from the staff in the seats than most of the customers in here most nights. Although they are normally busy eating full course meals, they aren’t up dancing like some are now.

It makes it fun. It makes it easy to lose track of time and enjoy yourselves. And it makes it more fun to sing for people who are also making a party out of it.

The dancing and drinking goes on, the party hits a stride, and before long a few people are pairing off and heading out for the night so that the party inside the club starts to naturally wind down. You have no idea what time it is when you come down from the stage for the second time tonight, although it's much nicer to breathe deeply and have the atmosphere of good friends around you instead of the awkward curiosity of the guests.

“Well I have to say that you definitely beat me out for the best performance of the night.” Zach scrubs his hand on his jeans as he comes up to you with a cup of ice water for you.

"Hardly." You laugh though, cheeks warm just at the sight of him walking up to you. When he holds out the drink you practically awwe out loud. "That's very sweet of you, though. Um...both, I mean. The compliment and the water. Thank you."

“Have to stay hydrated.” He knows you had drinks while you were on stage, plenty of others delivered them to you, but they were of the alcoholic variety. “Are you still hungry after basically working again?” He asks, grinning at you in awe.

“Fun fact about me,” you tell him, greedily sipping the cold water for a minute and enjoying the way you can feel it run down your entire body. “I’m always hungry.”

“Is that like…your superpower?” He leans in and whispers it playfully, like he’s asking in confidence. “Kind of like Bruce Banner is always angry?”

Zach’s breath is so hot on your skin that you almost flinch, a warm roll of anticipation chasing the cold feeling of the water all the way through you. “Maybe,” you tease back. “You wouldn’t like me when I’m hangry.”

“Then I guess I need to keep you fed.” He snorts, the alcohol in his system making him a little more relaxed than before and it feels like this entire night has been one big dance to lead up to a ‘moment’.

“Good thing you’re very talented.” Fuck…what a terrible line. To avoid owning up to it, you take another sip of water.

He bites his lip at the compliment and watches as you fluster slightly. “Well, since it’s my duty to keep you fed, I guess you should be able to reach me, right?” He asks. “A bat signal for food?”

Instinctually, you’re about to refuse, until about two seconds later when you realize what he’s saying. What he’s offering you. And then the smile splitting your face open grows even wider. “I guess that would be good,” you tease him again and relish the feeling. How easy it is and how good it feels.

Zach pulls out his phone and opens it up to the messages to hand it over to you. “Here you go.” He offers, wondering if you are finding it a little cheesy how he’s basically asked for your number.

Typing your number into the top line, you tilt his phone away from him with a mischievous grin to type out a little message and send it to yourself. When your own phone dings in your pocket a second later, you pull it out and make a great show of reading the message before you react.

Gorgeous chef promises gorgeous singer to keep her fed and she promises to dedicate songs to him in return. Everybody wins.

“Why Zach,” you gasp playfully, one hand flying to your chest after you have his phone back. “You think I’m gorgeous? You flirt.”

Zach reads the message on his own phone and looks up at you for a moment. “And a little too self confident.” He practically giggles, butterflies swimming in his stomach at your description of him. “You’re gorgeous and you know it. Me? Not so much.”

“It’s all a costume. The hair, the make up, the gowns? All of that’s a mask to hide behind.” You may be dressed down right now, without your mask on and not ready to fight, but you know that that’s why you do it. Why you get dolled up every night. It’s not for the guests. It’s your armor. “I…was calling you gorgeous. Adding it for myself was just in case you didn’t mean this as flirting. I could say it was all a joke…”

He stares at you for a moment and shakes his head. “You look great right now. And I know you’re not in a gown or wearing a lot of makeup.” He points out. “So I meant what I wrote.” He tells you adamantly, even if you had technically written the text.

“And so did I.” Setting aside anything else, you add Zach’s name to your contacts and slip your phone into your pocket.

You let slip a yawn and he frowns. “It’s getting late.” It’s the early hours of the morning, and everyone has to be up soon to start the day over again. “Why don’t we get you a snack and get you to bed?”

“That is quite possibly the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me,” you tell him, grinning all over again. When your roommate calls out that she’s leaving you just tell her to go on. That you’ll catch up. You may be hoping a certain chef will walk you back, but you know he and Shane are housed on a different deck.

“So the way to girl’s heart is through her stomach too?” He turns back towards the kitchen and his hand hovers over your back again. “Interesting.”

Letting yourself be led by him is easy. Honestly it might be the easiest you’ve ever gone with anyone anywhere. “Anybody who claims they can’t be won over by a person who puts enough thought and care into to them that they craft a whole meal to take care of them with? Liars.”

He hums, smirking slightly as he guides you towards the refrigerators again. “What are you thinking you want to eat?” He asks, curious about your comfort foods.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start,” you admit. His kitchen is so well stocked and his skills are so much more extensive than yours. “I basically survive on sandwiches if I have to feed myself.”

“So would you like a sandwich?” He asks. “I can make that happen.”

“Actually,” he sits you down on a stool at the counter and you feel a little dreamy just watching him move, but at least it’s honest. “That sounds amazing.”

He hums as he looks through the fridge and smiles. “Then I know exactly what I’m going to make you.” He starts pulling out ingredients.

“Did you…like any of the music?” It seems right to make conversation, especially since he is once again feeding you, and you are honestly curious. Any song he likes is going to get more play in the club, you can admit that to yourself plenty easily.

“All of it.” That answer comes easily and readily falls off his tongue. “I think you might be the best singer I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“Oh come on.” The best you can do is a huff of disbelief so you don’t break out into nervous laughter, but your stomach flips and your whole body turns hot in pleased embarrassment. “You’re exaggerating.”

“No.” He shakes his head as he brings his treasures over to the counter to lay them out. “I’ve heard a lot of people. Some of the street singers came close, but you beat them all.”

Surveying him quietly, you don’t think too much about the comment on street singers since buskers are everywhere where you’re from. Instead you crack a self-deprecating smile. “Would you mind calling up some of the producers I’ve auditioned for and telling them that? I think I could use a spokesperson.”

“Give me their numbers.” Zach huffs. “Guaranteed in a few years you are headlining somewhere.” He tells you. “Vegas or something.”

"Then this is a perfect place to start." You motion to the ship around you. "Floating Vegas, if you will."

“It’s a good place to forget the rest of the world and all the problems there exists.” He agrees, methodically putting your sandwich together.

"And." Leaning forward on your elbows, you bite back your broad grin into something more flirtatious. "To meet gorgeous chefs."

He pauses for a moment, meeting your eyes and his own smile blooms over his face. “And sultry singers.”

For a moment you consider just trying your luck. Just leaning across the counter and kissing him and seeing what happens. But there is just enough of a hint of nervous in your system despite his red cheeks and hooded eyes that you hesitate, licking your lips and swallowing the lump in your throat. You can shoot your shot in a different way, without being too forward. Just in case.

"Would you..." There is blood pounding in your ears and you can't quite hear what you're even saying, but you press on. "Would you...want to go out sometime? With me, I mean? Like when we both have time off?"

Zach is stunned silent for a second before he remembers that he had to answer you out loud. He handed you the sandwich with a beaming smile. “I’d like nothing more.” He promises.

"Yeah?" Now you're both grinning at each other like idiots, and you nudge the plate between you accidentally before remembering he was just cooking for you like a damn culinary angel that dropped right out of the sky. The sandwich he made is a work of art, and you pick up one half before nudging the plate back at him to share. "Okay, um...just let me know when you have time off?"

“I’ll check the schedule and text you.” He smiles as you take your first bite and wonders how the hell he’s gotten so lucky.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

ItSotN: @greenwitchfromthewoods @copperhalfcent @ariavitiellos @spishsstuff @76bookworm76

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2023: October 13th

Day 13: Wrist/Arm Restraints, Triple Penetration, Pet Play

Zach Wellison x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Restraints, safe words, mentions of BDSM, teasing

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

It’s not like you’ve never used restraints before. You have. With partners that, looking back, maybe you shouldn’t have allowed them to restrain you. Before you had gotten  smart with the ideas of more than just vanilla sex spiced up with a pair of fuzzy handcuffs to tie you to the bed. 

Now, you watch Zach start to pre-knot the rope. His eyebrows pulled together in concentration while he wraps it around itself in some configuration that you don’t know if you can figure out with a step-by-step diagram. 

It’s some knot he learned how to tie in the Marines. One that was supposed to be perfect for tying you up so you couldn’t get free, but if needed, Zach could have you out in just a moment. You had heard something about a sea knot, men’s department of the Navy or some such thing, but you hadn’t been paying attention. 

Reminding yourself that you want this, you can’t decide if it’s hotter that he’s so focused on making sure the knot is perfect, or if it’s just that he’s always this hot.

He’s your super. For the building you had moved into nearly a year ago. From the first day you had met him, getting your keys, you had thought the man had been attractive. Even more so when he had gotten rid of a snake that had decided to climb up the face of the building and into your window one day. You had made sure to never take out your screens again, third floor or not. 

Now you’re about to move in with him, your relationship growing and maturing. His apartment is slightly bigger than yours and it’s part of his pay to maintain the building. Something that he does with absolute pride. There was no sloppy maintenance or delayed fixing of anything in the building he was responsible for. Just like his job, he takes you very seriously. Hence, his concentration on the knot. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You want to double check, to make sure that you are pressuring him into something he doesn’t want. Even if he has jokingly tossed it out before. “Mess with me and I’ll tie you to the bed.” You don’t know if he had just been teasing you, or if he was relaying desires through humor that he could easily play off if you weren’t interested. 

His head whips up and he frowns for a moment before his expression clears, turning to one of surprise. “Of course I do.” He insists. “I wouldn’t- if I wasn’t comfortable, I would let you know.” 

For Zach, even that is monumental because of where he had only been a few short years before. Homeless and kind of hopeless, he had gotten a hand after slapping it away out of stubborn pride. Now, he was making sure he was talking to his therapist, and you, when he felt that pride start to get in his own way. It was something you were very proud of. 

Holding up the rope, he smirks. “In any case, it’s ready.” 

****

You like the rope he had chosen. It’s soft against your skin, even as the loop of it around your wrist tightens. Every time you struggle it tightens a bit more. Pulling against the headboard as he strips down in front of you. 

It’s a crime, being unable to touch him and you start to regret ever suggesting this as your hands itch to run over his shoulders and down his stomach. 

Zach is beautiful and he knows you think that, his grin wide and wicked as he winks at you. “Look at you, all tied up.” He whistles, unbuttoning his pants before kneeling on the bed. “I would say you’re my present all wrapped up, but you’ve only got a bow on. He jokes, sliding his hand up your calf. 

“Zach….” you huff, biting your lip at the look in his eyes. When he looks like that, you know that he’s planning on making you think that the only name you remember tonight is his. 

“What’s your safeword, baby?” He asks, hands sliding between your thighs and pushing them apart like he was parting the sea. “Want you to tell me.” 

You aren’t getting extremely kinky tonight, the restraints are the only big thing that you can think of, but it’s just a part of Zach’s nature. He’s going to make sure you remember the plan before he dives in. Making you feel even better about the decision to cement your life with him and build a future together. 

“Cherries.” You confirm, tugging your arms slightly and whimpering at the slight tug. You can’t get out, completely at his mercy and enjoying it. He can and will do whatever he wants as he keeps you restrained to the bed. The safeword there as your safety net, your security blanket although you know you won’t use it. 

“Good girl.” You barely repress your moan and from the smirk on your boyfriend’s face, he knows what those words do to you. 

Cocky smugness looks good on him. His boyish charm shining through and mixing with the dirtiness you have been delighted to discover. While he’s not Christian Grey, ready to dominate you and whip you, he’s got his own appeal that is even better than a fictional character in a shitty BDSM book series. 

“Asshole.” You huff playfully, running your foot along his jean clad thigh, and blowing out a breath of anticipation. “Hurry up and touch me, baby.” You whine, pouting at him and grinning when he immediately moves his hands up your thighs, squeezing and moving his fingers higher. 

“You want me to touch you?” He asks teasingly, his warm eyes turning rich and promising. Making your fingers itch to touch him and you hiss in annoyance when you can’t, making him giggle slightly at the first swipe of his fingers through your folds. 

Your moan is the first of many to come tonight. Already cursing and praising the restraints that will keep you right where you want to be. Tied up to Zach’s bed. 

[supernaturalgirl20]

Lose Control

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), PinV sex, sub/dom relationship, orgasm denial, Zach has a temper (not towards you), cursing, fluff.

A/N: first req from my darling @scorpio-marionette for the smut prompt “mmm, I want you to look at me when I’m inside you.” 🥰 I went with Zach on this one - there just isn’t enough of him.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

The door slamming shut reverberated throughout the house, alerting you to the current state of his mood. His temper was something he was working on since coming back from his tour overseas but every now and then it slipped through the cracks. It was never directed at you - at least not in a bad way.

You could feel him behind you - the heat radiating off him - as his hands grip your waist tight. His deep baritone voice whispering into your ear. “I want you in our room, naked, in five minutes.” A shiver runs through you - from excitement or nerves, you’re not entirely sure - but you waste no time in abandoning the dishes and rushing towards your shared room.

Fuck you loved when he was like this. All riled up from a hard day at the garage. His clothes were covered in motor oil and his face was a little dirty. Fuck you could come right now just from the thought.

Making your way inside you quickly discard your clothes and kneel at the end of the bed, hands on your thighs. The sound of his footsteps on the stairs makes your cunt ache, desperate for his touch. You knew that something had upset him today and you wanted him to use you for his own pleasure.

The handle pushes down and he opens the door, gaze fixed on your glorious naked form. You dare not look at him, not yet - until he gave permission. He moves around the room stripping as he goes and butterflies flutter in your stomach with anticipation. You never really knew what to expect with Zach. Sometimes he would draw things out, tease you for hours before finally giving you what you wanted. Others, he would take you then and there.

He stood before you - your eyes cast down, staring at his bare feet. “Look at me baby.” His hand caresses your cheek, his thumb rubbing along your bottom lip. “Open that pretty little mouth for me - wanna fuck it, baby.”

His hand grips your hair tight as he thrusts into your open mouth. The feel of your hot, wet tongue around him makes him groan in pleasure. “Fuck…oh fuck…feels so good baby.” He continues to fuck your face, his cock hitting the back of throat. Tears well in your eyes as you gag around him.

Suddenly he pulls out with a pop, his hand in your hair gripping tight as he tilts your head back. “On the bed, now.”

Scrambling onto the bed you get on all fours the way he likes, but he quickly flips you onto your back. “Not tonight baby, wanna see you fall apart.” Zach pushes your thighs apart and nestles between them, rubbing the tip of his cock along your slick folds. “So goddamn wet…fuck…all this for me baby?”

“Yea…yes you…only you.” Oh! You gasp as he sinks into you, your legs wrapping around him pulling him closer. His pace is slow and languid and oh god you need him to fuck you. “Please…Zach need…oh fuck…need you to…”

His hand grips your neck, his fingers brushing the skin there. “You’ll take what I give you, baby, and you’ll thank me for it.” A heat begins to build and your breathing becomes ragged and just as you feel yourself climb that hill, trying to reach the peak…he pulls out. A frustrated groan passes your lips and you look at him to find a devilish smirk on his face.

“Zach I was almost there…why’d you stop?” He doesn’t answer - not at first - he waits until your breathing has calmed and then he plunges into you again. His pace is a little more rough this time as he grabs your leg, moving it over his hip, giving him a better angle. That familiar heat begins again and just as you're about to reach your peak he pull out: again.

“Zach…baby please! Please let me come?”

He loves watching you beg. Beg for his cock and the pleasure only he can give you. Your skin is flushed and sweaty and your breasts move with each breath and he’s transfixed by you. The way you’re mewling and writhing beneath him sends him into a frenzy.

He plunges back in again and begins to pound into you, his loud grunts and groans filling the room. “So fucking good for me…so tight…fucking love you baby.” You can feel your orgasm building again and you desperately need the release. Your legs lock behind him giving no room to pull out again. The nails on your fingers dig into his back as your eyes close, the pleasure taking over.

“Ngh…I want you to look at me when I’m inside you. Open your eyes. Open them. I wanna see you lose yourself to me.”

Oh fuck! The feel of him inside you, the way he’s hitting that sweet spot over and over and the look in his eyes as he commands you to look at him sends you hurtling over that edge. “Ooh fuck…oh god…”

“Gods not here baby, it’s just me.” You come hard, harder than you ever have before and you can see it in his eyes that he’s about to follow you over that edge. He thrusts once, twice and then he comes giving you his spend as he shudders above you. His hips continue their motion until he’s filled you completely before he finally slumps on top of you.

You both remain like that - trying to calm your racing hearts - until he slowly pulls out of you. An emptiness takes root inside you at the loss of him but he’s quick to clean you both up before laying beside you - pulling you close and wrapping you both in the soft duvet.

“I…I wasn’t too rough was I…I…” Turning around to face him, you can see that the anger his eyes once held, were replaced with guilt. Bringing your hand to his cheek you're quick to reassure him. “Hey, look at me. You weren’t too rough, I promise. I loved it, like I always do. I love you.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“Beats me?” You say with a slight shrug of your shoulders, a teasing smile on your face. He smiles at you then, the hint of mischief in his eyes. “Watch it baby, or I’ll have to put that smart mouth of yours to use.”

“Promises, promises.”

“I’ll show you,” he says as he pushes you onto your back again, the thick length of him already hard. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll be cock dumb for days.”

“Do it! Use me, make me yours.”

“Alright, but just remember - you asked for it.”

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[coastielaceispunk]

Loved and Loaded - Gun Play with Zach Wellison

This is dedicated to my lovely @ezrasbirdie on their birthday! You showed special interest in this story and helped give me the confidence to write it, so here it is! All for you because you deserve all the things! Hope you had a wonderful time celebrating YOU, love!

Loved and Loaded

Zach Wellison x f!reader

Word Count: 4.9K+ (I am not sorry)

Warnings: Language, feelings, fluff, insecurities, military service mentions, past homelessness, use of firearms, descriptions of firearms, GUN PLAY (shotgun and pistol, NO insertion), gun competence kink, anxiety and PTSD, idiots in love, oral m receiving, unprotected PinV, little dirty talk, little begging, little cum play, little cockwarming, creampie. This got a little away from me because Zach deserves the world ok?!  

Masterlist | Kinktober Outline | Absurdthirst's Kinktober Prompt List

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Your boyfriend Zach is an angel, and sometimes you think you don’t deserve him because of how good he is to you. Dating five months now, you know you have already fallen for this warm and safe man. You want to say those three words but you don’t want to scare him off, even if you think he feels the same. It’s almost like an emotional standoff, both of you afraid of the same things because of your pasts. Zach is your angel, but an angel with many demons. Demons you have chosen to protect him against because you love him.

You met Zach when you moved into your new apartment in the big city, he is actually the building manager and has his own apartment on the top floor. You remember thinking to yourself, what a nice gig. This tall, broad shouldered, handsome brunette with deep chocolate eyes met you in the lobby to help you move in and tell you everything you needed to know about the building amenities and the area. You couldn’t stop staring at his beautiful nose that led to pink plush lips, if he noticed he didn’t say, and just smiled softly at you. He was so personable, and when he shook your hand and said your name for the first time, you were a goner. 

Zach helped you with your few boxes into the one-bedroom, his easy strength making the task fly by to your dismay. You wanted to know him more, wanted to see him in your new space. Strangely…he fit. Well, he made everything you own and the doorways he stood in look small, but he fit there. It seemed he didn’t want to leave right away either because he stayed and asked more about you, already past small talk. Learning that both of you were single made you take the leap.

“Zach, would you like to grab a coffee sometime? Maybe show me your favorite cafe you mentioned earlier?”

He watched as you nervously fiddled with the piece of tape in your hands, lifting his eyes to yours he sighed, “Yes, wow, I was trying to work up the courage to ask you, ha, sorry I’m no good at this. That would be great.”

Zach rubbed at the back of his neck and you stepped closer to place your hand on his arm. “You’re so good at this, that’s why I asked!”

Both of you smiled and for a second you were lost in his eyes again, his arm so warm under your hand beneath his flannel. 

“If you want to take a break now that everything's safe here, I could take you to lunch? I’d like to hear more about your new job.”

“I’d love that, Zach.”

That lunch turned into a walk through the park, then ice cream, then take-out Thai for a picnic dinner on the floor of your new apartment. He insisted on eating in his apartment but you’d thought this would be fun. It was. More intimate and relaxed, no pressure, small touches and so many shared laughs about the people you saw on your walk. Zach was very good at this, and honestly, you both seemed to just want to spend time together. 

Zach was an open book about his life, wanting you to know everything about him early on during your dates. “I don’t like secrets and I am not ashamed,” he had said to you on your third date holding your hand tight. That’s when you learned of his struggles and your heart weeped for him. It’s been three years but you can’t imagine it will hurt any less as time goes on. Looking at him and his happy demeanor, you would have never guessed he was ever homeless. You knew he was a veteran- a Marine- with three tours in Afghanistan, only by one of the very few photos he had around his place. He was so thin but had since filled out, happy and healthy. He jokes he needs to work out and you just shut him down with a kiss these days. It hurts your heart to this day to think of what he may have looked like when he didn’t have a home. You rarely have a reason to think like that though, Zach is who he is now and he's thriving.

One of the very few success stories, he is. The military failed him after he sacrificed so much for them, serving his country to come home to nothing, only to be discarded and forgotten. Zach was a smart man who never turned to drugs or alcohol, even after two years when it seemed there was no hope for change after everything he did. Then after a brawl in the park where he slept, a park you’ve been to many times in the past, hope came in the form of a brother, Justin. Zach calls him a pain in his ass lovingly because then he was in the worst place and didn’t want the hand out. Justin gave him a place to sleep and an introduction for a job but Zach did the rest with his hard work ethic and personability. Justin is an amazing friend to this day, and tells you all the time he is so happy Zach found you.

When you started staying over at each other’s apartments more and more, there was nothing you didn’t know about one another. Knowing how his breath would hitch when you kissed just under his ear or how a groan would feel vibrating from his chest behind you, made you want him forever. You knew what he needed when he had a nightmare holding him close whispering you’ve got him. He knew how to ease your anxiety on your rougher days. You learned each other so quickly like it was seamlessly meant to be. The first Sunday morning you woke up in his bed, tangled naked limbs, he told you about how he took back some control over his traumas.

Every Sunday morning, Zach would go to the local indoor shooting range. He asked if it was something you would like to go with him to see and you didn’t hesitate in saying yes. You weren’t a fan of guns but if it was part of his life, you wanted to be there for him. The smile on his face lit up the whole room.

“My father taught me when I was young ‘guns are for safe sport shooting or subsistence hunting nothing else,’ he taught me how to shoot when I was a kid duck hunting,” Zach smiled fondly at the memory of his dad and you hugged him tighter knowing how much he missed him, “then I went to war…,” you scratched the short scruff on his chin to bring him back to you, “so me going to the range to shoot kinda reclaims the calm I used to have and serves his memory.”

“That’s beautiful, Zach, let’s get dressed and go then, I would love to see you shoot.”

Not knowing what to expect you followed his lead and dressed comfortably, more of your belongings finding their home in his apartment, then with to-go coffees in hand you watched Zach grab a long gun case from the guest room closet. Didn’t spend too much time there so of course you didn’t know of its existence until now.

“How many guns do you own?” It wasn’t accusatory, it just kind of flew out of your mouth.

“Just two, a shotgun and a pistol, they were my dad’s.”

Oh goodness, he's a sweetheart. Them being family heirlooms makes it better in your mind for whatever reason, he doesn't give off the I gotta have every new rifle guy vibe, which is great. Never did, and it’s not like you're reevaluating anyways. 

Your first time at the range was pretty fun. The smell of gun oil and smoke surrounded the space. Everyone there knew Zach and he introduced you to every single person as his girlfriend, swoon, and they were all super nice. It was so social it surprised you and he looked so at ease. You watched as he got all set up at his “usual booth” opening the case and handing you his ear muffs and yellow shooting safety glasses, he said you looked so cute and you blushed. Zach borrowed hearing protection and glasses from the range box. Then he pulled the shotgun and pistol free from their case. Your jaw dropped. They were huge and Zach handled them like they weighed nothing.

He caught your look as you sat beside him on the tall stool and smirked. You didn’t know but he was so happy you were there with him and he was going to show off a little. Wait until you see what his hands can really do.

Your first trip to the range was months ago. At first you went for support, now you go for your own selfish reasons. Zach’s competence with these guns is fucking hot. Watching him handle the mechanics of the shotgun makes you burn. How he flicks the safety switches and levers of the pistol makes you jealous of the piece of metal. And he knows…he has to, because every Sunday night you are insatiable. Shit, sometimes right when you get home from the range forgoing your lunch to climb him in the living room. 

The confidence he exudes with the long single barrel shotgun in his arms is so sexy it makes you stupid. The spark of the muzzle flash lighting up his gorgeous profile every shot. The wide stance of his long legs, the even breaths you see him take as his tummy rises and falls before he pulls the trigger, the stock of the gun pressed firm against his broad shoulder absorbing the recoil like its nothing, and his hands. For fuck sake his hands. His hands are so large they fully surround the grip and slide. His palm is almost too wide and his fingers almost too long, which seems impossible but it's true. It’s like parts of his big hands get in his damn way, especially when shooting the pistol.

Zach’s firm hold on the pump action slide as he chambers shotgun shell after shotgun shell makes you drool. You have to remember to close your mouth. When he cocks it back and forth the sound goes straight to your pussy. He has let you hold the gun, has taught you how to shoot it, how to load it for fun, and it damn near takes all of your strength to pull the slide back and then forward again. When he does it as quickly as he does…his arm strength shows and you clench. 

How he gave you technical directions when showing you how to shoot his pistol made you sweat. First, his whole body was pressed against your back as his long arms reached around you to hold the gun over your hands. Your hands disappeared under his, but he was so gentle. Second, even with the ear muffs his husky voice was right in your ear, his breaths falling along your neck and shoulder, as he directed your every move. Helping you to pull the slide back and lock it he walked you through inserting the magazine until it seated, sexual. Then he told you to pull the slide release lever down with your thumb, but you couldn’t reach and he giggled when you had to use your support hand to do it, the sound moving you against him as his shoulders bounced. Last, he instructed you to click the safety off and press the trigger, do not pull at it, be nice to it, let it surprise you, which again sounded sexual. With a “Fire away, babygirl” he let go but stayed at your back steadying you and you fired. The recoil of the handgun was violent but you held onto it and fired again. Zach only gave you two rounds so you placed it down on the shelf in front of you when you were done firing just before he turned you and lifted you into his arms.

“My girl is a helluva shot!”

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he jumped up and down with you both laughing. Everyone cheered for you and when he finally put you down after a quick kiss, you were blushing. That was a fun day.

Now you sit, staring disrespectfully, as Zach loads the shotgun’s magazine tube that sits under the barrel. To ensure each shell seats inside he pushes two fingers deep into the loading hole, over and over and over again, until it is full. The loud sound of him racking the gun, chambering his first round, makes you jump out of your filthy thoughts. 

“You okay, babe?” Zach asks teasingly because he sees the way you cross your legs tighter and swallow hard when your attention is back and clear.

“Y-Yes, hmhm,” you answer with little force. 

Zach watches you fiddle with the small white cloth as you help him clean the two weapons at the end of the range time. You help with the pistol, it being smaller and easier to handle. You still gape at the way he practically throws around the hefty shotgun. You two are in the common area with tables now, away from all of the sharp sounds of the others shooting. Then he asks something that catches you so by surprise you choke on air.

“Do my guns turn you on, babygirl?”

“WHAT?! No…no, um, oh my god…”

“Shit, babe, I’m sorry I was just watching you today and like every Sunday I can’t wait to get home because it's like we are both so horny for each other, I thought it was the guns,” Zach panics and rambles reaching for your hand and you laugh. He just looks at you while you crack up at how ridiculous you are.

When you finally collect yourself you lean towards him, a little fear still in his eyes like he messed it all up, with a hand on his face to soothe him, you finally confess. “It’s not the guns, Zach, it’s how you handle the guns. Your…um, competence and confidence…I get really jealous of the guns with your strong hands all over them, bending them to your will, it’s hot…you’re hot.”

Zach closes his eyes with a low groan. You can see the obvious effect your words of praise are having on him with a glance at the growing bulge in his jeans. No time like the present to tell him your other confession.

“Zach, baby,” his eyes open to meet yours darker than before, “I had this fantasy that you made me cum with the shotgun in your hands.”

“Ohmafuckingod,” Zach reaches down to forcefully shove his palm down over his growing erection. “We gotta go, let’s go, pack up, I gotta get you home before I take you over this shitty table.”

You chuckle at his frantic state and help his shaking hands put the clean, unloaded guns into his case. He pulls his truck keys out and takes your hand to pull you out of the building giving rushed goodbyes to the other regulars. 

Once the truck has started down the road Zach places his palm over your thigh, his fingers dangerously close to your trigger. “Are you sure you wanna do this baby?”

“I do. I think about it every Sunday, haha. But really only if you’re okay with it, and it's not too weird?”

“No! No, it’s not weird at all, I get it, I get half hard watching you comfortably shoot the pistol now. Please, let me make this good for you, it will be safe, it will be so hot.”

You can tell by the way he’s continuing to ramble and his white knuckle grip on the steering wheel he will love this as much as you. You’ve heard about gun and knife play but it never really made sense to you until your pussy reacted to Zach at the range. 

The ride in the elevator up to his apartment was brutal and it stopped twice for other people. He winced and you laughed when they wanted to talk to him about building things. You added to his struggle keeping your hand in his back pocket caressing his ass. Having dealt with them with expert kindness and professionalism, the gun case covering his excitement, you were bidding them a good day, alone again.

“You’re a menace.” Zach leaned over and smacked your ass making you yelp.

The burst through the front door was frenzied, your tongues licking into each other’s mouths with heavy pants, the gun case placed on the counter top, his hands squeezing your ass and your arms around his shoulders, hands in his hair. He liked when you played with and pulled his hair. Zach pulled your bottom lip between his teeth with a growl and you whimpered when he finally pulled back for air.

“Get undressed, leave only your panties on, baby girl, and I will get our toys ready.”

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips when he kissed you again, Zach swallowed the sound, drinking in your want. Then he pulled away tapping you on the thigh reminding you what he wanted. You pulled your sweatshirt and tee over your head as you watched him open the gun case. His eyes flitted to your breasts when you removed your bra as he picked up the empty pistol and shotgun. Zach double checked they were both unloaded and clear, when he looked at you, you nodded in confirmation. 

He rested the long shotgun over his shoulder, held the pistol in his left hand, and walked right past you as you peeled off your leggings and shoes to chase after him. The smirk he gave you over his shoulder nearly killed you. Zach could be so soft and then he could be this wall of controlled confidence. You loved that you get both all the time. Then he turned and sat down on the couch laying the shotgun across his lap. The pistol was set off to the side;  you guess he wants to start big.

“Come here, beautiful.”

You realized you were frozen again, staring, when he reached his hands out for you to stand between his open thighs. Zach places his hands on your hips, his thumbs brushing back and forth over your curves when he presses his lips to your stomach, licking and kissing out towards each of your hips as he squeezes you in his strong hands. You let out a breathy sigh and tilt your head back basking in his attention. You don’t realize when his hands leave you, you are so caught up in his mouth with your hands in his hair. Then…

CRACK CRACK

You jump with a squeal when Zach racks the shotgun back and forth on his lap. Your wild eyes find his, lust blown with excitement, and then focus on the large gun in his capable hands. The whine that escapes your parted lips is pathetic. Zach coos at you that it’s okay with a soft hand along your bare thigh, goosebumps taking over your body with anticipation when he urges you to open your legs a little wider. You don’t realize you are shaking until he takes your hand.

“Baby girl, look at me, is this still okay?”

“Yes, I’m just too excited I guess, is–is this still okay for you?”

“Hell yes,” he pulls your hands down to press over the crotch of his jeans where he’s practically throbbing to be set free, “feel how hard you’re making me baby, your want and trust in me is driving me crazy!” You gasp as he starts to move your interlaced hands over his length then he pulls away when he starts to roll his hips up. “Let me fulfill your fantasy, baby.”

As you lean back up above him, Zach points the end of the shotgun barrel at the floor between your feet. You place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself when he begins to slide the chilling metal of the barrel up the inside of your right leg. Both of your breathing gets heavier the closer he gets to the top. Then, he presses the cool barrel forcefully to your core over your underwear and you whail. The firm pressure and thickness is incredible as you finally feel how wet you are when your panties stick to your center. The shotgun is so long, half of it sticks out behind you between your legs, the thought of Zach reaching around and picking you up by the gun infiltrates your brain and your breath hitches. His next move surprises you more though.

“Close your legs.”

Shocked, you look down at him and do as he says. His gaze is focused on the barrel between your thighs. The friction changes as he rests the shotgun in his right arm reaching to place his left hand on your hip. 

Then, Zach pushes and pulls the barrel along your cunt and you scream his name. The cold metal a solid edge causing more arousal to leak from you, making the ride slick. You’re a complete mess in front of him as you start to move your hips a little in time with his rhythm. The sounds you’re making as you ride his shotgun at eye level make him weak. His control falters when he can’t help but touch himself again over his jeans. His moan pulls your eyes open to watch his desperateness and you become so close to cumming all over his shotgun. 

Zach sees your gaze flick to the pistol on the couch and then back to him. 

You need more.

He stops stroking himself, never losing his rhythm between your legs, to pick up the pistol. Now he is holding both weapons below you and you can’t think straight. Zach starts at the outside of your thigh to spread the cold metal sensation all over your body as you ride his shotgun. Across your stomach, flat under the weight of your breasts, to each nipple to bring them to hardened peaks before his eyes, and then down your arm. You know the gun is safe and empty but he still maintains safe trigger control and his competence showing takes you closer to your release. 

You are right on the edge, grinding your swollen clit just right along the slick barrel, when Zach puts the pistol in your hand. He looks up at your heavy eyelids as he finally removes his gray t-shirt revealing his freckled skin. 

“Do me, baby, I want to feel what you feel.”

The needy way he husks it out has you dumbfounded and he takes your hand with the gun to drag it along his collar bone. Zach moans at the cold bite of the pistol as he lets go of your hand to start your own path. He puts both of his hands on the shotgun to increase the pressure and help push you over the edge. When you bring the pistol barrel to his nipple he whines and the sound shoots straight to your lower belly beckoning your orgasm. You shatter with trembling legs all over the barrel of the long gun chanting his name. 

The shotgun is pulled from between your thighs when you swat at it to give your clit a break, the metal is a harsh feeling after a strong orgasm. With the shotgun back across his lap Zach pulls your ruined panties down your legs and they fall at your feet. You watch closely as Zach inspects your mark on the gun, the barrel slick and shiny with your cum. Your knees give out and you fall to the carpet in front of Zach when he licks a long stripe to taste you on his shotgun.

You put the worry in his eyes at ease when you start your journey along his body with the pistol again. Just as he did to you but you map the expanse of him by following his freckles over to each nipple then down his tummy to the dusting of hair above his jeans. It’s easy to see Zach’s control is slipping when he places the shotgun to the side with shaking hands. His breathing erratic when you begin to pull his jeans and briefs down his thighs and off of him completely.

Zach is so turned on it almost looks like it hurts so you want to give him some relief. His cock leaking against the soft swell of his stomach. He deserves it. 

With your free hand you push him lightly to lay back on the couch. The sigh of relief he exhales is cut short when you drag the cool metal handgun up the inside of his thigh. You rest your hand over his hip when he starts to thrust shallowly. The pistol reaches the top of his plush inner thigh and he groans, he has no idea what's coming but you’re on your knees before him flush and beautiful, then you point the barrel down towards the couch under him and press the top of the pistol against his balls.

Zach cries your name and throws his head back as his hands claw at the couch.

“I’ve got you, babe.” You assure him and he brings his head forward to watch you intently.

You lift his cock up to compare it to the gun in your hand. Zach is longer and thicker than his very large handgun, more of your slick gathering along your thighs learning this information. You lean forward and tease him for only a second when you lick up the side of the pistol, the metal tastes sharp on your tongue. When you reach the top you shift and quickly descend on his length, your warm, wet mouth taking him all the way until his curls tickle your nose.

Zach writhes seated above you babbling a string of curses and your name as you bob up and down on him, hollowing your cheeks to suck him hard. His hands are in your hair to steady himself and when you feel that he is close he lifts your lips off of him.

“Get up here.” He growls pulling you up by your waist.

You fling your arms around his shoulders, gun still in your hand resting on the back of the couch, as he lines his cock up to your entrance and fills you completely with one steady thrust. He’s so big he usually has to open you up before giving you his cock but you were so wet from all the teasing and danger he slid right in, hitting the deepest part of you. He immediately holds you down to his hips by your waist as he fucks up into you hard and fast.

“Oh my god, Zach!”

“That’s right, baby, scream my name. Tell the whole building you’re mine. Fuck…you’re always so tight!”

You’re just bouncing up and down on his cock trying to hold on, when you can’t grasp his shoulder like you want to with the gun he takes it from you.

“Come on, baby, cum on my cock, squeeze me and make me cum with you. I'm so close.”

Zach begs for your release and enforces it when he pushes the thick grip of the pistol into your clit. His hand is covering the whole gun with the barrel angled away to get better leverage over the grip making overwhelming circles. It doesn’t take long before you're pulling his hair with a shout as your second orgasm crashes through you. You feel like a live wire, feeling the electricity fizzle out at the tips of your fingers and toes. You have no more rounds after that one.  When you come back down, you realize Zach threw the handgun onto the floor and he is bringing your body as close to his as he can to chase his own release. 

He thrusts up into you with his arms tight around you and he starts to mumble into your neck. “I love you, I love you, oh fuck, I love you so much.”

You pull his face from your shoulder and it dawns on him that you could hear him. You kiss him desperately whispering I love you, I love you too into his plush lips. After a few more deep thrusts he stills and comes hard inside of you with a silent cry. You feel his furrowed eyebrows against your temple as he lazily grinds through his orgasm. 

Spent, Zach leans you both back against the couch to slump together in a sweaty, smiling mess.

“Do you mean it?”

He whispers it into the open space like he didn’t want you to hear his insecurity.

You push yourself up to sit on his lap, his softening length still nestled inside of you, it’s intimate when you hold his cheeks to assure him. 

“I love you, Zach, I have for a long while now.”

He smiles up at you with so much adoration. “Me too.”

When you kiss this time it’s a promise. I promise to care for you. I promise to be there for you. I promise to protect you. I promise to help fight your demons.

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A/N: No regular taglist for kinktober but I will tag my beautiful beta @lowlights, @littlemisspascal, and @absurdthirst for the inspo. Thanks for reading loves!

Next: Hypnosis/Monster Fucking with Max Phillips

[javierpinme]

A Holiday Inn

Pairing: Zach Wellison x f!reader

Word count: 2.5k

Rating: Explicit (Anyone under 18 years old, go away)

Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up but fiction), so much fluff it’s sickening, cursing, praise kink, lingerie, did I mention sickeningly sweet fluff?

Summary: Set following the events of Inn Over Your Head with a sweet and spicy Christmas update.

A/N: This was originally part of my outline when writing IOYH but it didn’t fit with the timeline so I kept it in hopes that I’ll write it. I think it can technically be read as a standalone.

Inn Over Your Head Masterlist:

Overall Masterlist:

The peals of laughter and murmuring conversations die down as the stairs creak from guests retreating to their room. Some of them are parents reassuring their kids that Santa will still be able to find them during the night.

You can’t help but ruminate on how much has changed within the last year, how cared for you feel with the man you can now admit you love more than anything, laughter filling the once empty halls.

Your thoughts are interrupted when forearms hardened by physical labor circle around your waist and pull you closer to his chest, a deep inhale, exhale vibrating against your back before you turn around in his arms—his warmth to run your hands up until you get to your destination. Your nails scratch his scalp and it does exactly what you intended, his eyes fluttering from your impromptu massage, putty in your hands.

Your eyes flicker to the pajamas that match yours, your idea when you were shopping together, telling him how sexy he would look in the white henley and checkered bottoms. He pretended to grumble about it, but the smile he tried to hide didn’t escape your attention. 

A tradition you had always wanted to do with a significant other and was always shot down, but-

Not Zach. Never Zach.

Curling your fingers deeper to grip more on the curls, you nudge your nose against his and press a soft kiss to his lips inviting him to deepen it. He tastes like hot chocolate with a hint of the peppermint schnapps you poured into his mug earlier and the cookies you had been adamant about him not eating. Your scold backed by the kids of the guests that there would be consequences, imaginative as they were.

You grasp the opportunity for indulgence—in each other with pressing of lips and tongues gliding against another. The distant change of ‘It’s Beginning to Look a Lot like Christmas’ along with a faint humming from the turntable you purchased at an estate sale to the scent of ginger, allspice, and cinnamon permeating the room.

His eager lips chase yours when you pull away, indulging him a little longer until you ultimately separate so he can see. The warm glow from the tree lights accentuate the swell of your breasts as delicate red lace begins to peek through with button after button being undone under Zach’s gaze.

A range of emotions pass through his face and an amused huff comes out of you when he finally settles on one—desire. He pulls you behind the lit tree to cover you from any potential prying eyes when his brain catches up with where you’re at.

“What are you-what if-sweetheart-”

His voice was spluttering, but his body relied on muscle memory caging you in against the wall, his attention never breaking in the movement from your chest. “You’re trouble.”

“Calling me trouble when you haven’t even unwrapped your present yet. Risky business.”

Pride fills your chest at the responding groan from him, biting your lip to hide your amusement when he adjusts his pants to hide the obvious erection.

“I can’t decide whether to be annoyed or wanna take you right against this wall.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing at the growl of his voice dropping an octave and the idea of being taken against the wall. You trace your fingers on the outline of his cock, your exploring causing him to twitch from under your hands when he pulls your wrist away and throws on his snow boots haphazardly.

"Think you can make it in just this?" He gives you a once over, nodding when he reaches an unknown conclusion.

"This? What do-” Your stomach flips over on itself when he wraps his arm around your middle and lifts you over his shoulder, carrying you out the door to your small but cozy home within the property, your own snow boots abandoned at the front entrance of the inn.

It’s a short distance between properties but it doesn’t stop the cold from seeping into your bones, freezing through even your thickest pair of socks.

The second building was renovated after agreeing you needed the additional rooms for guests. You had resigned yourself into thinking the tub he gifted you would stay in the inn, but-

“Absolutely not. You’re getting that tub.”

Determined as he was the very next day a couple friends and him hauled that tub back downstairs and installed it into your now permanent home.

He pretended it was for your benefit but you knew better than that—knew he craved the feeling of your water-slicked skin pressed against his chest and the kiss of soothing lavender perfuming the bathroom just as much as you did, if not more.

It was second nature knowing when he was carrying the weight of his past from the tension of his brows, the downward turn of his lips, thoughts swirling around that didn't belong there. 

It's on those days that you don't feel the need to fill the silence. Instead, choosing to strip him bare and coax him to sit between your thighs. Taking extra care to wash away any physical and emotional ailments that are plaguing him with your soft hands and whispering praises while kissing any bit of skin within reach from your position. 

Until he was on the cusp of being lulled to sleep from the comfort you always brought him.

Until he felt safe.

A rush of heated air is a welcome feeling after being in the bitter cold when Zach opens the front door and slams it so the cold air doesn’t come in, the bells on the wreath jingling from the commotion. He kicks off his snow boots when he plops you back onto even ground. The scent of pine fills your nose from the real tree you had gotten together a couple weeks ago.

A tradition in his family until he went into the marines—before anything spiraled into what it was. You had surprised him with a trip to a tree farm intent to merge both of your traditions along with the added bonus of then chopping down your selected tree.

Admittedly, that was more for you.

A shiver travels up your spine when he bends down to grab the back of your thighs, lifting you into his arms. He tightens his hold when you squirm and whine about easing up on his back after carrying you a distance already.

"Are you trying to call me old?" 

"Well, I mean if we're talking about this I have noticed-" 

Whatever thought had come to mind had disappeared, a delighted squeal and soft moan following its place comes out when his teeth dig into where your shoulder meets your neck, soothing the pinch with his tongue.

You feel more than see the grin widening against your skin, wrapping your arms around his neck and he resumes his path to your shared bedroom.

"Old, huh?” He cooed and you felt his hot breath against your ear, releasing a soft gasp when he pinches your earlobe between his teeth.

“I'll show you an old man."

The dangerous tone of his voice would have intimidated anyone that didn't know the man behind it. The voice you're convinced could coax orgasms without even laying a finger to the hands that bring you immeasurable amounts of pleasure.

Depositing you on the cotton sheets, Zach circles your lower back and pushes you further up the bed until your head rests on the pillow. He pours all the passion and hunger into his kisses—his devotion to you, nibbling your bottom lip between his teeth until the blood rushes to your swollen lips. 

“Let’s see what we’ve got under here.” 

Calloused hands smooth under the hem of your shirt to pull off the article of clothing, pausing in his pursuit temporarily when he catches the lace underneath in all its glory. A curse under his breath and his eyes meet yours, the pupils almost disappearing beneath the swirling lust.

He places open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking on the spot that throbs under his attention and wraps his mouth around your clothed nipple, swirling his tongue until the lace is soaked from his saliva. He pinches the nipple hidden by fabric and places a wet kiss on your sternum before paying the same devotion to your other one. 

His lips meet yours again in a bruising kiss and speaks huskily against your lips. “Fuck. You look so pretty for me like this. Always so sexy.”

Your fingers curl around the short hairs on the back of his neck, swallowing his moan when you pull. “Y-You haven’t even seen the rest of it.”

Zach hovers above you and grabs your leg to pull off your fuzzy sock covered with penguins, but instead of your bare feet he’s greeted with black sheer nylon—raising his eyebrow in your direction when he switches to your other leg to do the same.

A mischievous smile spreads on your cheeks when his hands go to the waistband of your bottoms, pausing when he sees the matching lace suspender belt and panties. “Told you.” 

“Oh, fuck. For me?” Even after all this time as if it could be for anyone else. 

Never anyone else. Just him. 

You realize you said that last part out loud when he responds with a curse and a groan that borders on almost painful if it weren’t for what you were doing.

He curls his hands around the elastic band of your bottoms and you beg for him to reveal what you’ve done for him. “Please. Please. Let me show you how much.”

You don’t need to finish your sentence for him to know what you mean.

He presses soft kisses along every expanse of skin made available to him as he finally reveals you, so beautiful spilling out of his lips as he worships you. His work hardened hands smooth up your calves, squeezing gently when he reaches the apex of your thighs.

Tears forming in the corner of your eyes blur your vision from his affections, whispers of I love you spilling out of his mouth as he pulls your jaw open with his thumb and index finger to pour more love into you, his tongue gliding seamlessly with yours.

Hooking your leg around him, your nails dig into his shoulder blades to flip him over in a straddle. The look of awe he gives keeping you warm from the leftover chill when he shifts back leaning against the headboard and runs his hands up your thighs, his fingers smoothing under the nylon and playing with the garter that connects it.

“You’re wearing far too many clothes, Wellison.”

He huffs in amusement and sheds himself of his white henley, lifting his hips up so you can remove his pants and boxers, his socks joining when he kicks the materials off. You wrap your hand around his cock and pump in slow strokes, your thumb circling the head until a pearl of pre-come dribbles out.

Silently thanking that the piece came with crotchless panties, you notch his cock at your entrance and slowly sink down—sliding in easily to the hilt from your arousal—his moan matches yours when your pussy flutters around him from your clit sliding against his abdomen.

One of his hands circle around your hip while the other slides up your spine, digging crescent moon shapes you'll wear with pride tomorrow. He squeezes your hip and bounces you up and down his cock, the movement hits your clit just right, a loud moan spilling out when your thrusts meet his.

“You’re gonna have to be quiet, sweetheart. I know how hard that is for you.”

You clench around his cock when you notice his shit-eating grin and a loud moan croaks out from below, cheekily smiling at how thoroughly undone he looks under you.

“Fuck. Don’t. You always—god you feel so fucking goo-” 

You clench around him again and the room turns upside down when he pulls out and rolls you underneath him, a laugh bubbling out of you in the rapid turn of direction.

“Like I said.” He inches his cock back to the hilt and your mouth forms a silent O from the stretch, your brows pinching from the pleasure. “Trouble.”

“Please—oh god—you feel so perfect inside me.”

Your throat chokes on a moan when he thrusts, the sounds echoing in your bedroom wet and obscene. A soft gasp spills out when his cock hits that spot within your walls, the corner of his mouth lifting when he focuses in on it, groaning when more of your arousal soaks him.

He grabs the back of your knee to pull it up higher, the new angle allowing him to thrust even deeper—he kisses your lips and with his free hand intertwines your fingers with his, pressing your joined hands to the sheets.

He presses wet kisses on your throat and sucks on your pulse point. “Look so pretty like this. Always taking care of me. Want to make you feel good. ”

Your hips buck to meet his thrusts, keening under his praise and he releases your hand to thumb your clit in slow circles.

 “You always—shit—always make me feel good.” 

A tightness builds higher and higher in your abdomen until you fall over the edge—clenching around him and his hips stutter in the rush to release.

“Shit. You always get so fucking t-tight when you come.”

You cup his cheeks and press your forehead against his, beads of sweat forming on his hairline and you press a soft kiss to his lips—wanting to watch the way his eyebrows pull together, the way his mouth gapes open in awe before burying his face into your neck spilling inside you with a throaty moan.

He takes his time to soothe every bruise blooming on your skin, stroking your cheeks with the back of his hand and praising how you always make him feel good too.

He presses his full weight onto you, his cock softening inside but you don’t mind it, your legs tangle with his and the tips of your fingers trace the line of his spine. “I love you. After everything, I didn’t think I would ever have this.”

“I love you too, Zach. You have me.” 

You kiss anywhere you can under his comforting weight and a satisfied smile forms on your face. "You never unwrapped your present."

"That's what the next round is for." He seals his lips against yours, deepening it until he breaks away.

"Give me 15 minutes. I'll unwrap you."

“What’s my present?” 

You pout when he shakes his head, rejecting your inquiry and you remind him that it is technically Christmas morning. He shakes his head again and pulls you close until you feel the warmth of his chest pressing against your back, kissing the back of your head.

“Sleep. We have an early day.” 

What you couldn’t have known was that the little velveted box sitting in his coat pocket was your present.

How he enlisted the help of Kit and a few of your mutual friends to watch the inn for a couple hours.

How during the early morning before the sun rises, amongst the evergreen trees and dusts of white dotting your eyelashes he was going to give you something.

A promise.

Taglist: @sharkbait77 @mylovelycomandante @littlepadika @bison-writes @just-here-for-the-moment @lowlights @radiowallet @kmorales1 @honestly-shite @kirsteng42 @tanzthompson @yespolkadotkitty

[cyantomatos]

Wheel of Writing - Day 25

Pairing: Zach Wellison x f!reader Prompt: Handwritten letters 

It wasn’t even your idea, originally.

You’d toyed with the idea of a first look, and while you loved the concept, a small part of you really wanted to see his reaction from the other end of the aisle. When you brought it up to your Maid of Honor, she suggested this.

Letters.

You let out a nervous giggle as your hands fumble against each other, arms twisted around the corner. Your photographer had found a nice corner where she could get pictures of the two of you without you seeing each other as you read. 

“Ready?” You can hear the smile in his voice, and nod despite knowing he can’t see you. 

“Ready.”

You unfold the paper, fumbling slightly as you refuse to let go of his hand. There’s rustling around the corner that lets you know he’s also unfolding his, and then your eyes are scanning over his neat writing.

My love,

There’s things I want to say to you that I’ll never have the guts to say in person. I tell you all the time how much I love you, and how beautiful and amazing you are, but I’ve never told you how you saved me. I think you know some of it, considering how we met, but I’ll never be able to explain it all. Your love saved me, and from more than just a life on the streets. I see things differently now, everything seems brighter and more beautiful just having you in my life. I was so lost before, and you helped me find my way back to the light. I don’t just see darkness in my future, I know good things can happen now.

I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited for anything in my life than I am about marrying you. You truly are the best thing to have ever happened to me, and I know now what people mean when they say they’ve met their better half. You make me better, make me want to be better, and every day you continue to amaze me with just how much love you have in your heart.

I will never be able to properly convey just how much I love you, but I will spend every day of the rest of my life trying. You are beautiful, kind, compassionate, and more amazing than anything I ever could have dreamed to have in my life.

I can’t wait to call you my wife. I want to build a life with you and grow old with you. I want you beside me for everything that comes after today good and bad. In sickness and in health, for better and for worse, right?

Here’s to a bright future together.

Forever yours,

Zach

[bluestar22x]

Finding Eden: Chapter 1

Summary: Zach stumbles upon you under attack

Pairing: Zach Wellison x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Attempted sexual assault, violence, death, fowl language

Word Count: 2,300(ish)

Author's Note: I've watched all of Zach's scenes and I'm very excited to take my shot at writing his character. I've enjoyed the fics I've read based on him.

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October 2017 (4 years after the end of the war)

Seated on the recently fallen trunk of an old pine tree Zach Wellison struck another line down on a mostly empty page in the leather bound journal he had spread out on his lap.

Fifty-two days.

He'd traveled a thousand miles on foot through rough terrain in under two months. Not bad.

He closed the journal with one hand and chucked it into the backpack leaning against his right leg along with the black ink pen he'd been using before standing up.

"Time to get back at it," he announced, throwing the pack over his right shoulder and snatching up the semi automatic shotgun that was to his left. He turned in place, glancing down at the large but lean tawny mass that had been lying at his feet and patted his thigh. "Athena, volg rechts [heel]!"

The mass stood, shaking off a red leaf that had swooped down onto her back while she'd been waiting for him and she barked happily before obeying, eagerly stepping into her spot by his side.

He patted her head gently, just above the dark mask that covered her face and he headed north, towards a far way destination he wasn't even sure actually existed.

At least it gave him a goal. Something to encourage him to continue placing one foot in front of the other.

There wasn't much left in the world that could do that anymore. Everyone he'd known before the war was either dead or missing, and he'd been forced to abandon society only a year after the riots had begun.

A motorhome parked in a secluded area in the Sierra Nevada mountains had become his after that for a long time, until a friendly drifter had informed him of a new city being formed in Alaska that was promising a return to before, but better.

Eden. Even the name made it sound too good to be true, but the drifter had insisted it was real, and had a map on him that he claimed he'd been given by a recruiter for the city. A map that marked where the city was.

A map that was now heavy in the front right pocket of Zach's faded and torn up light blue jeans.

With long, purposeful strides he carefully picked his path through the serene forest, eyes always searching, ears always listening.

As beautiful as his surroundings were, with colorful leaves and moss covered rocks everywhere, with nothing but the bright chirps of sparrows filling the air, Zach's old military training always kicked in when he was on the move.

When everything felt safe, too safe, that was when he was most alert.

Though he had Athena by his side and a shotgun hanging by a strap over his left shoulder, being without a comrade, someone to talk to and rely on, was making him wary, like an enemy could be just around a tree at any moment.

They could be, but it wasn't likely. More likely was a big ol' brown bear beating him down for being in their territory, which wasn't anymore appealing to him and equally deserved his hypervigilance as far as he was concerned.

Though he hadn't seen another person for almost a full week, it was actually humans who he ended up stumbling upon an hour into his hike that day.

He heard them before he saw them, so unlike any of the usual inhabitants of the northwestern wilderness.

There were indistinctive shouts from two men, and a sharp protesting cry from a woman in the distance.

A part of Zach, the survivor, wanted to move off away from the noise but the stronger part, the one that had naively signed up to fight a war in the Middle East, had him rushing towards it.

He hid behind trees as he made his way towards them, the barrel of his shotgun in the palm of his hand and his index finger pressed alongside the trigger.

Peering out from behind a thick copse of young deciduous trees he spotted them. Two middle aged men, both of larger statures than his, were hovering over you. You were down on the ground, propped up on your elbows. You looked disheveled, dark red long sleeved shirt partially torn at the shoulder seam, jaw clenched, eyes furious. Even in that state Zach couldn't help but notice your beauty.

"Over my dead body," you spat.

"That can be arranged," the oldest of the two men told you, mouth twisting into a sick grin that could easily be seen despite the wild beard he sported. "But I'd rather have you while you're still fighting. More fun that way."

Zach felt his stomach churn at the words and he jutted his jaw out. The two older men's intentions couldn't be more clear, especially as they started to close in on you like the two predators they were.

He had numbed, to some extent, to many different kinds of violence over the course of his adult life, but one of the kinds Zach had not grown a tolerance for was this.

When the slightly younger man forcibly shoved you against the ground by your shoulders and the older man knelt beside you to reach for the button of your jeans as you struggled against his companion, Zach took action, precisely aiming his shotgun and firing twice in quick succession.

The bullets hit both their targets, the center of each of the mens' heads - if they could be called men.

Their bodies collapsed limply on top of you and you screamed. You wiggled your way out from underneath them quickly, an expression of disgust on your face as you scrambled to your feet.

"Who's out there?" you shouted demandingly, obviously trying to sound commanding, but failing on the delivery due to your nerves.

Zach had two options. He could slink away unnoticed or he could reveal himself to you and risk a confrontation.

Typically he'd choose the former, but you were alone and apparently unarmed, what would be the harm?

He slowly stepped forward into view with his arms raised over his head and Athena loyally stuck by his side, looking up at his face for direction.

"Stay right there," you ordered him, eyes scanning his body up and down, analyzing his appearance. Though a person's looks could be deceiving, a lot of the time that's all people had to go off of before making decisions in this world.

Zach knew you didn't have the weapons to back your demands up but he listened to you anyway, not wanting to come off as pushy. "I'm not a threat."

You huffed and nodded at the bodies at your feet. "They said the same thing."

"I didn't shoot them to save you for myself," Zach promised. "I just couldn't let them do that to you."

Your eyes darted away from his for only a moment, but it was long enough for him to tell that knowing he witnessed their attempt bothered you. He may not have known you then, but he hated seeing it on your face. Embarrassment. Of all things.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," he said, "But any half decent person would've done the same."

"There's not many of those left," you pronounced.

"I know. I'm Zach, by the way. Zach Wellison."

You stated your name hesitantly, then gestured at Athena. "What's hers?"

He answered and you smiled a little. "The goddess of warfare. Fitting for the current state of the world."

"She is a veteran of the third world war," he informed you.

"And are you?" you asked, nodding at the black inked marine corps tattoo on his upper right arm that was partially peeking out from under the sleeve of his t-shirt.

He shook his head. "Afghanistan. Even if I'd wanted to fight in another war, they wouldn't have had me."

"PTSD?" you guessed. "My father was a marine vet too. Vietnam. Fireworks across town would have him flying out of bed and reaching for a gun that was no longer there."

"That's just good training," Zach argued. "You can take the soldier out of the war zone, but you can't take their training out of them."

He could see you visibly relaxing as the conversation went on, trust being built on his honestly and on the veteran status he shared with your father. Maybe Athena being there had something to do with it too.

"Can I pet her?" you inquired, glancing back down at the dog.

"Sure," he replied. Athena was fairly friendly when she wasn't taking commands. He knew she would be alright with you touching her as long as he was.

You approached Athena confidently but not too quickly, squatting before her to rub her cheek, making sure not to go over her head.

"You know reactive dogs?" Zach quizzed. Most people would've petted a dog on top of the head, no matter if it was their first interaction or not, which was fine for most dogs, but for some it would be seen as a threat.

"My father owned a retired army K-9, a German Shepherd," you explained. "He wasn't as great with strangers as Athena here. He tolerated me though. Athena's a Belgian Malinois, right?"

Zach nodded. "She is. I didn't adopt her from the army though. I inherited her from a friend."

Your expression turned solemn but you didn't say sorry and he appreciated it. It was pointless. Most people had lost all or most of their family and friends during the past several years and as far as he was concerned those two words were far too meager to soothe any of that kind of pain away.

After a few seconds of silence you stood back up and walked over to the dead men to collect a couple knives from their jacket pockets and a glock. "Mine," you said when you noticed him watching you add them to your person. "I ran into these guys yesterday afternoon and I thought we'd parted on friendly terms after trading some items, but turned out they trailed me after. Sneaked up on me while I was having a nap and stole my weapons then...well, you know the rest."

"What are you doing out here all alone?" Zach asked. It wasn't a smart move for a woman to choose to be alone in these times. Equals or not, the reality was that many men were physically stronger than a woman like you and would try to take advantage of it. Those two men would only be the first.

"I was traveling with my younger cousin and his wife," you responded bitterly, "But they had the brilliant idea of trying to steal a car from one of the old settlements the government set up and I couldn't convince them to not go through with their plan. They were both shot on sight by a pair of former policemen patrolling the outside of it. I managed to flee before they saw me.” You tilted your chin up at him. "You?"

"I was traveling with Athena's previous owner, Micah," he answered. "He got bit by a rattlesnake last month. There was no anti-venom at the abandoned hospital we tried raiding after."

"Awful way to go," you murmured, eyes downcast.

"It was." The memories of Micah's final hours had haunted Zach for many restless nights. Though he hadn't known Micah long, they'd become good friends in that time and he'd felt painfully helpless watching the other man swell up and die suffocating, all from a tiny bite he'd incurred because he noticed a snake a little too late.

Zach thought he should've known better, but that was the human condition, right? Everyone needs a connection, even if that means getting hurt when it is lost.

And for that reason, he was driven to make the same mistake again. "Do you wanna travel together?"

If your ears could've perked up like a dog's, they would have. "Where are you headed?"

"Some place in Alaska," he replied. "Micah's idea. There's supposed to be a new city forming up there called Eden. Supposed to be safe."

"I've heard of it," you told him. "It's fiction."

"Micah swore it wasn't," Zach said, pulling the map of Alaska out of his pocket and unfolding it to show you a circled area on it. "He claimed a guy from the place gave him this."

You pursed your lips. "It could be a trap."

"That's a stretch."

"So is this being real," you retorted, pointing at that circled part of the map.

Zach shrugged. "I'm not forcing you to come, but it's not like you have anything better to do, am I right?"

You sighed and kicked up some dead leaves that were by your booted feet. "You're right. Besides, even if it doesn't exist, Alaska in itself is an eden. Supposed to have the lowest violence in the states due to the isolation."

Zach had heard that too, on the news just before the violence in Los Angeles got too bad for the newscasters and reporters to do their jobs. He was sure it hadn't changed. Alaska's environment was tough, especially during the frigid cold winters. Most people wouldn't hack it up there or wouldn't want to.

"How are you planning to get into Canada?" you questioned.

It was a good one. Canada's border patrol was no joke since the last world war, and since they were traveling by foot crossing the country was the only way to get to their destination.

"Like many people trying to escape into a country different from their own," he informed you. "Going to cross late at night and book it to the nearest mountains."

"Sounds fun," you said, a hint of sarcasm in your tone.

Zach grinned. "Yeah, that's why all the cool people are doin' it."

"Well, if they're cool..."

"Is that a yes?"

You gave him a nod. "Let me find my backpack and you can take the lead, Mr. Cartographer."

"Sure thing."

He helped you search for your pack, finding it tossed behind a spruce tree a few feet away, and then you both began your journey, Athena keeping pace between you.

Neither of you truly had an inkling of what you were getting yourselves into.

xxx

Note: Volg Rechts is "heel" in Dutch. The US police and military tend to use commands in either German or Dutch by tradition since many of their dogs were trained in those countries.

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Tagged: @harriedandharassed @morallyinept

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