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bluestar22x · 2 months ago

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Finding Eden: Chapter 5

Summary: You and Zach seek shelter and realize your feelings

Pairing: Zach Wellison x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Pining, romantic revelations, smut (unprotected/pull-out method), mentions of cum, fluff, fowl language

Word Count: 4,250(ish)

Author's Note: This took me longer to write than I wanted it to, but I'm so excited about this chapter for obvious reasons.

xxx

You thought it was a mirage at first, the distant cabin a brown blob that appeared and disappeared with the snow that was being wildly blown every which way by the whirling wind.

Caught in a snowstorm for days, despite the winter gear you'd collected over the last few weeks, you and Zach were unbearably cold and starving, the seasonal weather making it more and more difficult for you to keep comfortable and find enough food.

Athena fared better than either of you did in the elements, but inside the tent, in the middle of the night, you could hear her stomach rumbling just as loudly as yours was.

Signs of human civilization, or what was once, had been few and far in between since December began, and it only got worst as you entered the pristine wilderness along the British Columbia/Yukon border.

When you realized the cabin wasn't in your head you grabbed Zach's arm by the elbow and pointed it out. He was as relieved as you were to find it, but apprehensive. You wouldn't be able to stay long if you couldn't find food in the area or the cabin itself.

"At least we'll have shelter from the storm," you said as you approached the front door.

"At least," he agreed, twisting the handle.

The door didn't budge.

"It's locked."

Zach took a knife out of his pack and shattered its window without hesitance.

"Hopefully there's some nails around to help repair that," you commented.

"It was that or spend another night freezing outside," Zach told you as he walked into the cabin. "And there's a fireplace."

You barged in, gaping at the fireplace in the center of the decently sized cabin. "Holy shit! Now I'm convinced I'm dreaming."

Zach chuckled. "Want me to pinch you?"

"You'd better not," you warned, wandering around the place to examine the rest of the interior.

The cabin had a three room set up, the main room acting as a kitchen and living room combined, the second smaller room a bedroom with one twin bed, and a tiny bathroom that was squeezed between them. It wasn't anything to brag about, but it was much better than the tent.

"Looks like we can stay a while," Zach declared over his shoulder and you turned to join him in the kitchen, finding him standing by the cooking stove, pantry open. Over two dozen cans of a variety of foods were lined up inside.

"Unbelievable," you murmured before breaking out into a grin. "Dibs on the beef stew."

"There's more than one," he pointed out.

"I know."

He huffed. "Fine. I'm not big on it anyway."

He headed for the door and you frowned. "Where are you going?"

"There must be an axe around here somewhere," he replied. "I'm going to collect some wood and get a fire going so we don't have to eat cold food. Could cover the broken window with some of the pieces."

You nodded. "I'll see what else I can find in here while you do that."

He tipped his head back at you and glanced down at Athena, who was still standing on the doormat, shaking lingering snow off her body. "Stay here. Blijf."

She woofed quietly and let him by, watching him go just as you did.

Once he'd left, you started rummaging for supplies in the kitchen. There wasn't much besides the cans, some old water bottles and a twelve pack of beer that was probably too old to be any worth drinking. You'd smelled expired beer before. It had been truly awful.

You had better luck with non-kitchen items. There were several throw blankets in a storage bin by the two person couch that was facing the fireplace, medical and grooming supplies of all kinds in the bathroom, and a pocket lighter in the night stand alongside...

A pack of unopened condoms.

You felt your cheeks heat up, not because you were prudish, but rather because your first thought seeing them involved Zach. That he could probably use them.

With who? It's not like he's interested, you reminded yourself for the thousandth time.

You quickly snatched up the lighter and shut the drawer, heading back to the living room to throw yourself down on the couch. It was cold despite being made of fabric, but it was comfortable, well worn in a good way.

You'd have helped Zach outside, but you were wiped out, and what was supposed to be just two minutes of rest on the couch turned into something much longer when you dozed off and only stirred when he reentered the cabin.

"You won't believe what I found outside the shed out back," he said as he stomped snow off his boots at the door.

You rubbed your eyes and stood. "You found multiple axes?"

"Better."

He reached out for the main light switch by the door and flicked it on. To your astonishment the yellow light fixture above you activated.

Zach beamed at the stunned expression that formed on your face. "We have electricity. And running water, as long as the pipes don't freeze."

"How?"

"There's a generator," he told you, some excitement, hope, seeping into his voice. "And there's propane to refill it once it runs out. Enough for most of the winter if we're mindful of how much we use it."

As if to lead by example, he shut the light back off.

"I'll shut it completely once we're all settled in here."

"Are we thinking of staying the whole winter?" you inquired, raising your eyebrows.

He shrugged. "There's a lake out back. Fishing poles in the shed. If I can find some success in ice fishing, maybe. It would delay us, but it would be safer. If Eden exists, it'll be there in the spring."

You nodded. He was right, and you weren't in a rush. Time was one of those few commodities you had, after all.

"Anything else in the bag?"

Zach smiled a little mischievously and pulled an artificial spruce tree out of his pack. It was barely a foot tall and ran on batteries, seeing that he was able to turn on the multi-colored lights without plugging the decoration into the wall. There were only ten lights and they only came in red and green.

"No way!" you laughed. "That is the saddest Christmas tree I've ever seen outside Charlie Brown's! It's kinda cute."

"You mentioned last week that you miss Christmas," Zach said. "I found this in the shed in an insulated storage bin. Figured since we'll be at the cabin through the rest of December, at the very least, why not bring it inside?"

You beamed at him, warmth spreading through your chest at his thoughtfulness. "Thanks. Let's set it over the fireplace?"

"Right in the center of everything," he noted approvingly. He centered the tree on the stone top of the fireplace and stepped back so you could both take in the view.

"Perfect," you declared at the same time as he did, leading you both to glance at each other then laugh off the tense moment.

Tense because you'd both let your eyes wander to each other's lips, and you'd both noticed. There was no question.

You backed away, needing time to absorb the new information you'd just gathered. "I'm gonna go check if the water's working. Cause if it is, I'm showering."

Zach nodded. "I've got to start the fire, so I'll wait. But after I get that going and I stack the extra logs I cut up, it's my turn."

"Won't get argument from me there," you said teasingly as he walked back out, knowing full well you smelled just as bad as he did, though not as bad as Athena.

You ripped your least offensive clothes out of your pack, a navy blue sweater, a pair of jeans, and undergarments, then charged for the bathroom, shutting it quickly behind you. Athena, who had slipped in with you, watched with a curious look on her face as you turned the sinks' handle and jumped for joy when water started flowing out.

It wasn't long before you'd stripped down and stepped into the shower. It was lukewarm at best, but it was running water, and the pressure wasn't even half bad. You took a minute to soak in the shower head spray then hesitantly hurried to shampoo your hair and scrub your body with a proper wash cloth and body wash. It was Old Spice, but you didn't care. It smelled better than you had in a long time. It felt amazing to get that clean again.

While you were rinsing yourself off you even dragged an unsuspecting Athena into the stand up shower and washed her off with some of the shampoo, something she didn't appreciate very much, whining and trying to get away the entire time.

"Big, bad, military dog," you teased as you struggled to keep her in the shower long enough for the water to wash the suds out of her fur. "Who knew you'd be scared of a little water?"

After you both were all set you released her and wiped yourself up with a towel before drying her off as well.

"Don't go rolling in shit tomorrow, okay?" you said sternly. "This is the only towel getting dog fur on it, you hear?"

Athena barked like she understood and you turned away from her to focus on getting dressed and brushing your teeth with one of the spare toothbrushes hidden in the top sink drawer before opening the door back up.

Your eyes immediately found Zach standing by the lit fireplace, observed how he waved his strong hands in front of the flames and you were struck by how handsome he was once more, especially in the orange glow of the flames, even with the scruffy beard he'd been sporting since winter had begun.

You really needed to talk to him soon. Clear things up between you two, even if it was awkward. Knowing he felt something too, having seen the desire in his eyes as he studied your lips, it changed things.

You had to know if he wanted more than friendship with you. If he was interested in taking things to the next level, and if it wouldn't be just a brief physical act. You couldn't be a no strings attached person. You weren't built that way. Either you'd be a couple or you wouldn't be.

It wasn't time to ask though, not yet.

"Your turn."

Zach looked up at you quickly then down at the dejected wet dog at your heels. He smirked. "I see Athena wasn't spared."

"She sleeps with us," you told him. "No way she was escaping it."

"Just glad I didn't have to do it," he said as he passed you to enter the bathroom, his pack in hand.

"You should be grateful," you called over your shoulder. You reached down and scratched the top of Athena's head. "But it was worth it, right, girl? Don't you feel better?"

The dog glanced up at you with an almost incredulous expression on her face.

You chuckled. "Come on, let's go warm up on the couch together."

The shower was more refreshing than Zach could've hoped, remembered, really. The last time he'd used one had been in his trailer back in California, and he'd started to forget what it was like to freshen up indoors rather than in a river or lake.

The warm water running trails down his body relaxed him, let his mind wander. But ever since he'd met you, whenever it did, all he could think about was you.

He finally had his answer, the look in your eyes had been undeniable, but he didn't know what to do with that. It wasn't like he could ask you out on a date. You were already living twenty-four hours a day with each other, even shared the same sleeping quarters. And yet he didn't want to dive straight in for a kiss. He just had to wait for the right opportunity, he figured. Let it all happen organically.

Zach stepped out of the shower and dried off, clawing at his beard after he'd done so.

It was time to shave the damn thing. He'd kept it for wind protection but if they were going to stick around the cabin for a while, and since they had so much supplies on hand because of it, it was no longer useful in his eyes.

He'd let it get too long for the razor though, and the bathroom mirror was missing. He'd have to ask you to trim it with scissors before using one of his razors on it to keep it from dulling. It wouldn't be the first time you'd done him that particular favor, so no big deal, right?

Dressed in the cleanest plaid shirt he had, maroon and white checkered, and blue jeans he exited the bathroom with damp hair he'd yet brushed down and a pair of scissors in his right hand.

He found you sitting on the couch with Athena by your side, sharing what was left of a can of beef stew you'd heated up in the microwave with her, allowing the dog to eat from the bowl once you'd had your share.

"Oh, I see, I can't have the beef stew but the dog can," he teased.

You rolled your eyes at him, but you were smiling. "I left you a bowl of your own on the counter, big baby."

His expression turned grateful. "You didn't have to do that."

You shrugged. "It was a big can. I'm not used to eating portions like that anymore."

Zach knew it was more than that, but didn't press. "Before I get to that, can you trim my beard?"

"Getting itchy?" you inquired knowingly.

He nodded and you patted the spot next to you on the couch that had been vacated by Athena in her search for the water bowl you'd put out for her.

He took the offer, sitting down and turned slightly towards you so you had easier access to both sides of his face.

He avoided your eyes as you worked, not wanting to be tempted, drawn in by them. You were doing him a simple favor a friend would do, nothing more. He didn't want to take advantage of your close proximity; it didn't matter that you shared feelings for him.

He didn't expect you to reach out and tug at his wavy hair almost absentmindedly midway through the process.

His eyes met yours questioningly when you did so.

"While I'm at it, do you want me to trim your hair?" you asked. "It's getting over your ears."

He cleared his throat, it suddenly having gone dry. "Uh, yeah, that would be good."

It took a few extra minutes, but was worth it. In the end, even without having yet shaved his face smooth, he was feeling a whole lot more like himself and not so much like the caveman he'd felt like he was becoming.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

The tension between you was almost palpable.

He broke it by standing up and returning to the bathroom to finish the job, leaving you alone with the scissors still in hand.

Once Zach had disappeared back into the bathroom to finish his grooming, you stood to bring the empty bowl you'd shared with Athena into the kitchen to rinse it out and label it as her official food bowl, not keen on the idea of using it after she had, no matter how cute she was.

You had time to shove Zach's cooling bowl of stew into the microwave before you heard her whining at the door and had to let her outside to do her business.

Waiting for both Zach and Athena, you busied yourself in the bedroom by unpacking some of the items you'd need that night and shaving your armpits, the only place on your body you still shaved even after the world ended. It just didn't feel right to let it grow out, even after having gotten used to your legs being unshaved.

Zach reappeared before Athena, clean shaven for the first time in weeks, just as you returned to the living room.

"How does it look?" he inquired, arms spread out in that what-do-you-think gesture.

"Good," you replied, giving him a thumb up. You secretly thought Zach looked good no matter if he had facial hair or not.

He approached you and rubbed his cheek. "Did I miss any spots? I didn't take my knife out to use as a mirror."

Without thought you boldly reached out to grab his face and examine it.

"No rough spots," you concluded, your eyes happening to meet his again.

His gaze was more intense than you’d ever seen it before. Your breath caught. "Zach..."

His lips were on yours without a moment's notice, already moving against them, needily. You responded in kind, thrown by the suddenness of it, but excited that it was actually happening. It felt a little surreal after all the time you'd spent around him, fantasied about him, all while assuming he did not feel the same way.

Zach deepened the kiss languidly, savoring the taste of you as his hands wandered up the length of your clothed spine, and you hummed happily, completely and utterly focused on his pleasant touch. His hands were so warm and broad like his shoulders, his mouth soft.

When you eventually dared to break the kiss, you grinned at him. "I've wanted that for a long time."

He ran his hands up your arms to hold them at the elbow and nodded. "Me too."

"Really?" you questioned, head tilting back slightly. "It's not just because I'm the only woman you've seen in months?"

He shook his head and caressed the edge of your lower jaw with the fingertips of his right hand. "Far from it. I've been admiring you from the start. Always thought you were strong and beautiful."

You scoffed. "Strong? You've had to protect me from the moment we met."

"You survived alone for a time before that," he pointed out, "And you refused give up when those men attacked you, even though you were outnumbered. You also took care of me when I got shot, and you have never complained once about your feet being sore the entire time we've been traveling together, even when you got that blister on your toe."

"Only cause I didn't want to slow you down or give you a reason to leave me behind," you admitted.

Zach traced your lips with the pad of his thumb and his expression turned dead serious. "I would never."

The deep tone to his words sent heat coursing through your body. You crushed your lips against his and pulled yourself to him as he lead you backwards towards the couch, to the nearest comfortable spot to lay down.

You pressed a palm to his chest when you felt the back of your knees brush against the solid furniture and gazed into his bright eyes, searching them for intent. "Zach, if we do this," you said a little breathlessly, "I won't be able to keep my feelings out of it. I can't..."

He cupped your chin gently, interrupting you. "I won't either; I don't want to," he promised.

You believed him, heard the sincerity in his voice, saw it in his dark yet expressive orbs. You bridged the gap between you two to kiss him again and what came next was a blur as you almost frantically peeled off each other's layers of clothing before letting yourselves fall onto the couch, Zach hovering above you, supporting his upper body with one hand as the other slid slowly down your bare skin, making its way between your thighs.

You parted your legs readily as he felt you there, pressed his thumb against your sensitive bundle of nerves and crooked two of his other thick fingers inside you, the sensations you felt from the contact making you buck into his touch, urging you to seek more contact, more friction, harder.

You stared up at him as you fell apart by his calloused hands alone, and he covered your mouth with his greedily. You could feel how tense his body was against yours, could feel his stiff length brushing against your center, and a thrill passed through you knowing how much making you feel good had turned him on.

You embedded your fingers in the hair at the back of his head and you folded your legs over his lower back, securing them around his waist and tilting your hips up invitingly. "Zach..."

"You want me?" he asked.

You nodded feverishly. "Yes." The desperate tone in your voice had him groaning and he wasted no time lining his body up with yours, eyes still on your face.

With a gentle roll of his hips he buried himself inside you, stretching you out so perfectly you whined, a sound that compelled him to seek out your mouth again as his free hand found your lower back. He helped you arch up towards him as he began thrusting into you, eyes scanning your face for every micro reaction you had to his movements.

A quiet moan slipped from you and you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on the glorious friction he was generating. It was like second nature for you to move your body in time with his, taking him in satisfyingly deep.

Being connected to him that way, so intimately, that was why you had followed Zach, why you had ignored your blister and kept putting one foot in front of the other. It wasn't just because you had hope for tomorrow, or because you simply refused to give up and die. It was also because even without Eden's existence, life wasn't void of good things, stolen moments, even after the apocalypse.

The friendship you'd had with Zach had been good, would have ultimately been enough, but having something more with him, to be the one he desired, the one who got to see him slowly fall apart, neck straining as he fought against giving into his ecstasy before you could come a second time, that was dreamy. For the first time in a long time you didn't feel like you were just surviving.

You canted your hips even more and your breath hitched when the new angle allowed Zach to nudge the special spot inside you head on, making your toes curl.

In the past, when you'd been intimate with other men, it had taken a fair amount of time before you got anywhere close to your breaking point, but not that night, not with Zach.

Maybe it was because of the dreams you'd had, maybe it was because of all you'd been through together, or maybe it was because he was really that good, but whatever the case, Zach's steady pace wound you up at an intoxicating speed, the pleasure overwhelming you, causing you to desperately claw at his smooth back with your blunt, chewed up nails.

You dug them in when you finally crested, a drawn out moan accompanying the waves of bliss.

You opened your eyes back up in time to see Zach quickly remove himself from you to find his own release, clenched jaw going slack as his body shuddered, as he called out your name, voice raspy, his heaved breaths tickling your neck. He took a moment to wipe up the cum that was dripping down your thigh, his, with the undershirt he'd discarded earlier, then molded himself back to your body, resting his head on your chest.

You weaved your fingers with his and he stared up at you, eyelids drooping, heavy now that he was spent. Your stomach flipped at how sweet he looked, his expression soft, more relaxed than you thought him capable of.

"It's been a long time since I had someone like you in my life," he admitted drowsily. "It's nice."

"Just nice?" you questioned playfully.

He chuckled lightly. "More than."

He was about to dose off in your arms, your hands roaming his lean body absentmindedly, when whining and persistent scratching at the front door startled you both out of your peaceful trances.

You'd totally forgotten Athena was still outside. You were immediately grateful she hadn't interrupted beforehand.

Zach groaned loudly and pushed himself up onto his feet. "I'll get her."

He strolled over to the door in all his naked glory and wrenched it open, letting in a blast of cold air he made sure to avoid by hiding behind the door. "Come on in. Hurry up."

Athena shot inside, shaking her body furiously as soon as Zach shut the door behind her, trying to rid herself of the melting snow in her short coat.

"Glad you didn't run into anything bad out there, but you couldn't have waited a little longer?" he asked her, eyes narrowing.

"Better now than a few minutes earlier," you reasoned as you tugged the couch blanket over your body to keep warm.

He pursed his lips. "True."

"Besides, you have soup in the microwave," you added. "You need to eat it before it rots. And you need to turn off the generator for the night before we waste too much fuel."

"And what are you going to do?" he inquired, lips pulling back humorously.

"Clean up the sticky mess that you left on my thigh."

You were pretty sure you heard Zach growl at your statement.

You smirked. Mission accomplished.

xxx

Dutch to English Translation:

Blij = Stay

xxx

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

xxx

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

xxx

#Zach Wellison #Brothers & Sisters #Zach Wellison Fanfic (Mine)#Brothers & Sisters Fanfic #X Reader #Finding Eden Series

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misspearly1 · 2 years ago

Note

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.

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artemiseamoon · 2 years ago

Note

Hey, Arte! Can I request “wishing” and “diary” with Zach Wellison? I don’t have a preference about f! or GN!reader, but some romance would be lovely 💚 thank you

Coffee & Journal entries

Zach Wellison x GN reader

An: I am more than happy to create a romantic drabble for you 💕 enjoy (ps: I miss Zach so this is perfect)

Words: 726

Warnings: none

Prompts: wishing + diary

When you think about journals or diaries, you think about your youth. It’s a habit that gave you comfort for many years and fell to the side in adulthood.

A year ago when you met Zach, you started jotting down things in a notebook again; making it some sort of adult version of a diary. You’d fill it with little poems, observations, sketches and other things that popped into your mind.

This little notebook, with its hard cover and soft ribbon soon became one of your key accessories. And for the first time since high school, you wrote about a boy, you wrote about Zach Wellison.

Working the early morning shift at the coffee shop wasn't ideal, but it worked best for your schedule at the time. Each Monday, Wednesday and Thursday, you’d wake at the same time, take the same commute, and serve familiar faces.

Then one day, toward the end of your shift, he walked in. The very cute, quiet, kind of broody guy in a flannel shirt. The moment his soft brown eyes landed on you, you felt butterflies in your stomach. Your cheeks warmed instantly.

“Good morning, what would you like?” You asked.

“Coffee. Black.” He looked around the cafe, you can tell he was a little anxious. The afternoon sunlight streaming from the window casts a spotlight on him, and you could see his hair is a nice shade of chocolate brown.

“Sure, what size?”

He looked at you for a moment, like he’s thinking about what you said. “Smallest you have.”

“Coming right up, what’s your name?”

“Uh, Zach.” he shifted his backpack to his other shoulder.

Zach stood off to the side and waited for his coffee. You noticed how observant he remained, watching everything. When you handed him his coffee, Zach thanked you and left the cafe.

That was just the first of many interactions. It took time, but over a few weeks, Zach began talking to you a little more and more. He even mentioned one time how you had a friendly smile and calming energy. His ‘hi’s’and ‘thanks yous’ soon turned to ‘hey, how are you’ and brief chats about little things.

What you didn’t know at the time was Zach only came in when you were working, even if he wanted coffee on the other days. He could give or take the coffee, he was only coming there for you.

After everything he’s gone through, it's been so long since he’s had something so comforting in his life. He liked talking to you, seeing your smile, hearing your voice. Though he was very thankful for his new job and getting a change to work, you were the highlight of his week.

It wasn’t until three months later, after your first encounter, that Zach worked up the confidence to ask you out. Even the way he asked, it was almost like he expected a no. When you said yes, his beautiful brown eyes lit up and his face brightened with a heart warming smile.

That's how it started. You and Zach.

Long before he walked into the cafe you were wishing for love, for companionship, to find your person; and Zach is it. Now, a year later, you've made a warm home with each other and love him more and more each day. You still work at the cafe but instead of waking up alone you wake up with him next to you, looking angelic in his sleep.

In the mornings you now find premade meals for your day and little notes on the containers. Some days, you and Zach are like passing ships in the night, especially as he’s moved up the ranks in the restaurant. But Zach is attentive, loving, doting. And he always tried to make up for lost time with dates, home cooked meals and more.

You know one day you’ll leave the coffee shop. But even when that day comes, you’ll always be thankful it gave your Zach. You’ll always remember it as the place where cupid finally remembered your wish.

You’ll remember it as the place that inspired you to scribble a boy's name on paper like a teen would; a dreamy spell on paper. Your wish came true, and you barely use the dairy anymore, but you keep in a safe place and think back on it fondly.

More Zach

More GN / reader unspecified works

More June Drabbles

#zach wellison #GN reader #Zach Wellison x GN reader #Zach Wellison fluff #artes june drabbles

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sarahjkl82-blog · 3 years ago

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#9 our first dinner party, with Zach?

To my lovely @tardisfangurl , I am so sorry that you have had to wait so long for this but what with trying to work full time and apparently, I have to parent too (wtf is that about?) BUT IT IS HERE NOW!

Thank you to my beautiful, @yespolkadotkitty for the beta - YOU ARE A TRUE STAR ⭐️

Zach Wellison x Reader (Brothers and Sisters)

Warnings: PTSD, anxiety, food, smut

Zach and the Dinner Party

“C’mon you,” you tug at Zach’s sleeve as he stands by the sink, staring off into the middle distance, obviously at a loss as to where to begin, “Everyone is desperate to get to know you properly. You don’t need to worry because they love me - they will welcome you and you’ll be part of the group before you know it.”

When he turns to face you, you see his khaki t-shirt is trembling from his heart racing. “Yeah, and they’ll see that I’m not good enough for you. A washed up ex- marine doesn’t really offer much.”

“I wish I could open up that head of yours. Take out those thoughts and throw them away as they’re not doing you any good. Just making you feel rubbish and for zero reason,” wrapping your arms around your boyfriend, you squeeze him until he grunts due to the lack of oxygen, “Anyway, this isn’t your granny’s dinner party. This is just friends who work stupid hours, getting together to eat and drink before we put our noses back to the grindstone. It just so happens that you’re here and instead of me feeling like I’m the only one out of my friends who can’t hold down a relationship, I will have you to pass me beers and kisses all night.”

After sucking a sharp, juddery breath and nodding, Zach manages to smile down at you, “I can pass beers. And kisses - I can definitely supply some of those too.”

“That’s not all you’re going to be doing, mister,” you pull rank with your former marine, hauling yourself to your full height, despite your head just reaching his shoulder, “It’s field day, soldier and there’s lots to do.”

“Oorah!”

Throwing a cloth and spray at him that he catches effortlessly, you bend over to unravel the flex from your ancient vacuum cleaner and notice from between your legs that Zach has not started to clean, “Why haven’t you started moving yet, soldier? You waiting for a goddamn invitation from the president?”

“Just admiring the view, ma’am,” you catch Zach’s eyebrow twitches minutismally as he gazes at your butt, that you can’t help but wiggle at him - garnering a sweet chuckle in response.

“The quicker you clean, the quicker I can let you admire the view up close,” you purr, tapping him on the leg with the head of the cleaner.

Putting on some nostalgic rock from the nineties, you turn the volume up as the two of you quickly scrub through your tiny shared space. The beautifully domestic feel of singing out of tune - totally fucking harmonising but somebody doesn’t appreciate your talents - and dancing ironically badly with air guitars as you land on sofa cushions to save your poor old knees, isn’t lost on you. It has only been a short time of knowing Zach, but when you know, you know right?

You first met him whilst he was helping in the kitchens of the VA office where you supported vets to complete their high school education with their maths, reading and writing, find vocational courses or for those who were ready to go further, their college applications. Every time you popped by to grab some food, he’d always sneak you a bit extra so that he could be treated to one of your beautiful smiles that totally eclipse your face, making your eyes disappear.

One day, you put on your big girl panties and leant across the serving hatch to say how much you looked forward to seeing his face every day and that you’d love to take him for a drink after work. Amusingly, you had to repeat yourself several times as he gazed dumbstruck at you - almost as if you’d been speaking in Klingon and had three heads with the level of confusion painted across that poor man’s face.

Later, he owned up that he’d felt like an IED had gone off in his head - that there’d been literal ringing in his ears. That the pretty girl he looked forward to seeing asked him out for a drink. His shock at being asked - genuinely asking if you meant him - had made you roar with laughter as you passed him your number on a serviette.

One date bled into another until three months later, here you were, virtually living together (he totally had moved in but neither of you were ready to own up to that obvious fact) with all your spare time either tangled together across the couch or snuggled up in bed. Tonight would be the night where he met all of your friends at once. He’d met most of them individually and was well liked amongst the crowd, but you knew that the thought of your looming turn of the dinner party was making him tremble with anxiety.

When you’d offered to cancel with your friends, there’d been a flash of anger from him that had ripped through his body like a hurricane - pouring out during his dreams. The anxiety that you thought him weak - not worthy of being around your friends - had left him a sweaty damp mess that night as he woke screaming, flailing - still thinking he was in Afghanistan. He’d tried to push you away when you’d cradled him to your chest but the tears that flowed on him realising that you weren’t going to let go, were the sweetest release he’d felt in a long time.

“You look hot,” Zach rubs his thumb across the beads of sweat collecting like a tiara of hard work upon your forehead as he becomes distracted by you cleaning near him.

“Yeah, I do,” you wink, grabbing his butt so that his hips are flush with yours.

The laugh this brings from Zach is music to your ears as his face crinkles at your cheesiness. Standing so close, you nuzzle his cheek - his sandalwood scented soap making every nerve within you fizz and tingle as you allow your lips to lightly graze his skin. Tilting his head slightly - a smile still playing upon his mouth - he searches for you. With his fingers finding your hair, your heart catches in your throat as his lips brush tenderly against you.

You don’t want this moment to end but as Zach draws back and places a small, loving peck on the tip of your nose, you stick your bottom lip out like a truculent child which elicits another chuckle from him, “C’mon sweetheart, we need to get started on dinner.”

“Can’t believe you are going to have me making pasta from scratch. Did you know - there are places that make it for you so that all you have to do is throw it into boiling salted water,” you grumble sarcastically, brow furrowed.

Zach shakes his head at you - rolling his eyes slightly as he takes your chin between his fingers, “When you cook for people, it’s nurturing them - that’s something everyone needs. For years, all my food was ration packs and eaten quickly as if you take your time, that can make you and your whole squad vulnerable.

“I know I’m not the greatest catch - I can’t offer you everything I want to give you but I can cook. And knowing that my food nourishes you, eases me here,” he taps his chest on the left before bringing his fingers to stroke your cheek, “It’s also great to have the time to enjoy creating something where I’m not at risk of being shot at.”

A brief flutter of guilt at your laziness flickers within your chest as you consider everything Zach has been through before he arrived at your door. You bury your face in his chest to hide your wincing, not feeling worthy of his gaze - breathing the smell of your shared laundry soap and conditioner, and that smell that is just just entirely him. Always immaculately clean and scrubbed, Zach still takes militaristic care with his showers - only ever becoming preoccupied if you decide to join him.

“Hey, hey beautiful - I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” a kiss is pressed into the top of your head, “If you want, I can run out and buy some pappardelle.”

“No, I’m sorry and I deserve to feel guilty as I was entirely being a dick,” you mumble into his chest, “Let me swim around in it until I get all prune-y.”

Prising your head gently back from his chest, Zach smiles down at you, “Nope, soldier. I can’t let you do that, I need you fit and ready to concentrate, stat.”

“Yes, sir. ‘Oorah.”

✪✪✪✪✪

“I stole my mom’s pasta machine,” You throw over your shoulder at your boyfriend, as you scrub your hands at the sink behind him in your galley kitchen - your bums almost touching due the narrow proximity.

A chuckle vibrates the air by your ear as a pair of arms wrap around your middle, “Not stolen. I asked her if we could borrow it for tonight.”

“Oh,” you huff, “So there was no need for my cloak and dagger tactics to get it out of her kitchen?”

You watch as a large hand tries to muffle the laughter erupting from Zach’s mouth, “I wondered why you were being so weird that night. You kept disappearing.”

“Yeah, I was loosening it surreptitiously from the table so it didn’t have to be a smash and grab,” you frown at the unnecessary effort you’d put into pickpocketing until you catch Zach’s twinkling eyes, “Look, I warned you that this was a thing with my family. We all try to steal things without the others noticing - you know this! You hollered at my brother when you caught him - what can only be described as - sashaying away from here in my heels.

“It’s like a really irritating bit that has gone on far too long but now you messed it up by asking for my mom’s permission - gah! I will never live this down, teacher’s pet,” you playfully jab your boyfriend in the ribs.

With nowhere to easily escape, Zach’s hands simply catch your wrists to try to cease your tickling torment of him, pinning them effortlessly above your head to an overhead cabinet before growling in your ear, “That’s right, I’m a good boy. I asked your mom for permission to borrow her pasta machine.”

After pressing a line of kisses into your neck, he suddenly releases your hands leaving you desperately wanting more as he grabs the eggs and flour from the side, “C’mon you, we have pasta to make.”

Biting your lip and wishing that Zach had continued in that vein, you follow his broad back through to your living room where your dining table is for once, not only clean but clutter free. Using a large bowl, you watch as he pours in three cups of 00 flour to one cup of fine semolina flour - his large hands gently whisking the two together, barely causing a cloud of dust to rise.

“Right, beautiful, while I mix these - you beat these eggs,” Zach instructs as he brushes floury handprints onto his joggers before passing you a bowl, six eggs and a fork.

Diligently cracking each shell against the side of the bowl, the contents of the eggs plop satisfyingly as you whips them together into a frothy orange concoction, “Where did you learn to make pasta? Is it since you’ve been working in the kitchen?”

A small snort to your right makes you look up at the gorgeous crinkles emanating from his eyes, “Hah, no. Not much fresh stuff served in the canteen.”

With a small kiss to the side of your head, Zach disappears momentarily to reappear cradling a pile of rosemary, garlic, anchovies and a small bottle of white balsamic vinegar, “When I was small, my mom and dad just worked all the time or went out with their friends, which made me the typical latchkey kid of the seventies and eighties. Our apartment was next to a lovely Ligurian lady who’d immigrated here in the fifties and she hated that I was left alone so often.

“Signora Guilia would have me finish my homework at her table and then make me scrub up to help her make dinner. The food was always much tastier than whatever my mom left me to make with the microwave chef at home and I loved spending that time with her.

“She had this heavy wooden dinner table that must have been passed down generations before it got shipped across the seas. The knots that surrounded the pasta machine were always slightly floury as it was constantly in use - it was my favourite point to sit at the table.”

Feeling your heart grow within your chest, you watch avidly as Zach traces the imaginary knots of the old lady’s table gently across the Formica surface in your home. He so rarely shares anything willingly about his past - only allowing you in when he’s at a virtual breaking point - that you treasure these moments of peaceful reflection.

Perching on a barstool by the kitchen door, you swing your legs whilst you watch him confidently moving around - your favourite pastime even when you’re both at work. The moments you snatch together between classes, with you leaning against the stainless steel surfaces of his work space with a steaming coffee in hand, chattering away to Zach as you watch him preparing the canteen lunches with his sous chef hat on. - him sneaking small kisses and sharing shy smiles with you.

Having roughly chopped the ingredients, Zach throws them all in the blender, adding a good glug of vinegar to the mix before blitzing it into a green sauce and setting it to one side. After checking the beaten eggs, he creates a well for them in amongst the mix of flours in the bowl slowly bringing the ingredients together with a couple of tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil until it creates a ball. Plying and pressing back and forth, Zach’s knuckles effortlessly knead the gloriously golden dough - adding a little more flour after initially finding the mixture too sticky beneath his warm palms.

“Signora Isabella would cut the dough into smaller sections - flattening each piece with her rolling pin before handing them to me where I’d feed them into the machine, watching them grow thinner and thinner and longer and longer with each pass through the rollers. I loved being in charge of that dial, turning it until the dough was papery thin.”

Not realising that you’re just gazing at him adoringly until you catch the rosy hue upon the tips of his ears, you avert your eyes to try to quell the embarrassment building within Zach, “What can I do to help, honey?” you offer, “I’m just sitting here like a lemon while you do all the work.”

“Wanna get the meat started?” Zach’s eyebrows question as his brow furrows, “Needs seasoning, a layer of flour and browning in the pan.

Think you’re up to that, chef?” he winks at you, flashing that delicious dimple your way.

“Oh I dunno, you’re testing my skills of domesticity there,” you tease before shaking your head and gesturing at the comfortable yet mismatched living space of randomly gathered nicknacks and creaky second-hand furniture, “As you can see, it’s not my strong point.”

After sliding from your seat, a slap on your bum sends into the kitchen as you shoot your boyfriend a mock shocked look across your shoulder. Opening the fridge, you not only grab the neck of lamb but two bottles of beer that seem to call your name. Blindly passing it through the doorway, you can’t help but smile when the bottle in your hand is swapped for a gently pressed kiss to the inside of your wrist.

Heavily seasoning the meat, you roll it in flour before heating the oil beneath a cast iron casserole that you’d discovered for a steal in a local goodwill. Sneaking up behind you with the green sauce in one hand, Zach comes to check on your progress as you absentmindedly flick through your phone and steal an amaretti biscuit instead of turning the steadily browning meat.

“Browning not burning,” he mutters as one arm removes the meat from the gas to a nearby plate and the other arm slips around your tummy. Biting the juncture between your neck and shoulders as a playful warning, Zach then deglazes the pan with a splash of white wine, reducing it until the liquid from the pan disappeared. Still working one handed with you snuggled into one side, he throws the lamb and the green sauce back into the casserole before spinning you into him to swap places so he can grab the chicken stock from the fridge to add to the dish too.

Both Zach and you stand there in silence watching the meat stew come to a simmer upon the stove - the worn, softness of his t-shirt against your cheek.

“Ready to help me make the pasta?” Zach muffledly asks into your hair.

Against his chest, you nod albeit entirely reluctant to let him go. Following Zach back into the living room, you stand beside him at the table - whilst you were browning the meat, he’d separated and rolled out the blocks of dough, ready to be passed through your mom’s machine.

“So what do I do?” You ask, peering over the machine as despite it being a permanent fixture in the family kitchen of your childhood, you’d only ever run your playdough through it as a kid and gotten such a telling off, that you never went near it again.

“We’re gonna start with it on the widest setting, and keep passing and tightening it until it’s about the thickness of a dime,” he passes you a piece of dough to start feeding into the machine - you catch a slight smile curling up at the corners of his mouth as he takes in your confused expression, “C’mon, you must have used this with your mom as a kid?”

“Nope,” you pop the p, shaking your head in response to Zach’s question, “We weren’t ever allowed in the kitchen as we’d make a mess. Ruin something. Probably what cemented my love of microwave dinners.”

“Time to put that right then,” he brushes your cheek with a warm, slightly floury thumb, “‘K, so you need to feed it in from the top really slowly and crank the handle - don’t look so panicked - I’m gonna help you.”

As you start to send it through the rollers, you watch the magic being created - the dough being squeezed ever thinner and flatter. Over and over, again and again, Zach adeptly changes the setting each time until you are left with an impossibly long, papery thin pasta, ready to be cut into chunky strands of pappardelle.

You cannot help but be amazed by this transformation - all big eyes and mouth agape as you turn to Zach. The tug you make upon the seam of his t-shirt is entirely unnecessary as you notice that he’s grinning at your childlike expression of wonder.

“Look what we made! That’s so cool,” you enthuse emphatically, “I do feel like that’s the best you’re going to get from me unless you let me have a coffee break though.”

“‘K soldier, at ease. Want a cookie with that coffee?” Zach asks, pressing a kiss into your forehead.

“Only if you insist.”

✪✪✪✪✪

Hands clasped tightly around mismatched mugs of steaming coffee, the two of you stretch out together on the sofa with the tv softly playing out some comedy in the background. You still giggle at the lines you’ve heard a million times before but you notice the tap, tap, tapping of fingers against the ceramic of Zach’s cup. Placing your cup upon the creaky floorboards, you remove the mug from his hands - putting it down next to yours - before moving to the opposite side of the sofa to snuggle into his chest.

On placing your head upon him, the rapid thud of his heart sends a wave of worry through you and as a response, you tuck your arms around him, squeezing Zach tightly. Oh how you wish you could squash all those fears that roar away inside his brain. How you wish you could pull him out of that reaction to retreat inside himself and switch off that constantly ringing alarm inside his head.

“I’m right here, you know,” you utter gently, as you nuzzle into him, “I’m not going anywhere.”

A heavy swallow comes from above you but no verbal response. You stick your hand between the sofa cushions behind you - rummaging through broken remotes, crumbs and hair grips before your fingers find purchase on what you were looking for and triumphantly pulling out your half rolled up tube of intensive hand cream.

“I love the special places you have for keeping your things,” Zach chuckles tightly.

“Hey, I knew exactly where it was,” you shuffle yourself so that you’re now sitting between Zach’s legs - holding out your hand for him to place his in yours, “C'mere baby, let me sort those hands out for you.”

Massaging Zach’s hands is one of your most favourite things to do. When he’s constantly scrubbing them at work to ensure hygiene, they often get cracked and sore and so they benefit from the miracle cream that you rub into them but that’s not the only reason you do it. Squirting a large blob into his left hand, you start to relax the muscles by using your thumbs to caress large circles into his palms - working in spirals from the centre to the edges.

Stroking downwards from his knuckles to his wrist, you start to feel a little of his tension ebb away as his head flops back on the armrest and his thick, dark eyelashes flutter softly upon his cheek.

“I swear, your skin is like lots of little straws just drinking up this moisture,” you utter as you wrap your hand around each finger, gently rotating each joint, “It’s so dry. I’m gonna get you a tube to keep at work.”

Your only response is a deeply satisfied grunt from the other end of the sofa, followed by a settled sigh as his breathing evens out. Starting at the base of each finger, you rub in anti-clockwise circles until you reach Zach’s fingertips - at which point, you realise he may have dropped off. Still keeping the soothing movements going, not wanting to startle your handsome boyfriend from a much needed doze, you watch his chest slowly rising and falling, remembering his initial fear of sleeping next to you - how he used to fly out of bed to lie upon the sofa.

It took weeks of gentle cajoling to convince him that you were at no greater risk from his nightmares than he was from your bed hogging nocturnal activities. Gradually, Zach allowed himself closer and closer to you and spread himself more evenly across the mattress rather than trying to sleep on the edge of the bed. Now, you are pretty confident the only reason he ends up there is because of your need to starfish during the night.

As you switch to his other hand, Zach shuffles slightly - one eyebrow raising his eyelid to check it was still you between his knees. His lips part into a sleepy soft smile as both eyes slowly blink back open.

“Think you’ve got magic in those hands of yours,” he mutters thickly through a yawn, sniffing as he rubs the heel of his left hand in his eyes.

You feel a glow beginning in your tummy at his words. Kneeling forwards you press a kiss to his forehead, “What’s left to be done?”

“Dessert, and entrée - but I’ll sort the antipasti once people arrive,” Zach scratches his chest, gazing up at you, “The tiramisù needs making.

“Listen, I’ll go get the ingredients and put some fresh coffee on - you sit here,” Zach pulls himself upright, ready to get back to work, patting your bum to get you to sit further back so he can slide past.

Grabbing your now almost iced coffee from the floor, you watch your boyfriend’s ass disappear back into the kitchen from where you can hear the electrical hum of the kettle, the bangs of cupboards being rummaged through, and the soft clunk of the fridge closing again. Moments later, Zach reappears with his arms full of delicious things - including that box of amaretti biscuits that you may have dipped into several times already.

Setting the things down upon your table, as a gesture to get up and help, Zach then strokes the back of your neck.

“‘K so Signora Giulia would always make her tiramisù with amaretti biscuits - might have to be a bit lighter on how many she used to pack into hers though,” he chuckles, shaking the nearly half-empty box in your direction.

“Must be those damn mice again.”

“Yeah, I’ve never met mice that are as neat as yours,” Zach drops the last biscuit into the freshly brewed coffee, “I mean, they even put the wrappers in the bin.”

“I’ve trained them well.”

“If you could do that with the ones that hang out in the dry storage larders at work, that’d be great,” Zach muses as he whips double cream, mascarpone, golden caster sugar and Marsala together.

You turn back to enjoy how the brisk whisking of the delicious mixture highlights the lean muscles in his arms, “You know the mice aren’t so keen on lady fingers. They told me that the sponge isn’t as moreish as the almond flavour.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” Zach chuckles as you sidle over, wrapping your arms around him, “Hey, you here to cause trouble?”

“Always,” your hands slide beneath his T-shirt, enjoying the soft, smoothness of his back muscles as you rub up and down his body.

“I can’t concentrate with you doin’ that.”

You giggle, sliding the worn material up before nuzzling the bare flesh between his shoulder blades, “Y’see why I always smack your hands away when I cook - you do this to me all the time!”

“Okay, okay - just stop kissing me while I grate chocolate across the top of the desert. I need my fingers, if you don’t want to serve your friends Pot Noodles and donuts from the bodega,” Zach pleads with you as you continue placing delicate kisses down his spine.

Sliding your hands around to his tummy, you keep them travelling lower until you reach the thick cotton waistband of his joggers. For a moment - as you feel his hands rapidly grating dark chocolate back and forth - you hover your fingertips just above his sensitive skin, refusing to touch until the need for band aids has passed. A satisfying clunk of metal upon Formica tells you that the danger has passed so your hands wrap around Zach’s steadily growing erection. The breath that catches in his throat makes your pulse quicken.

Pushing away the bowl of trifle, Zach suddenly spins around. After a short, hard spank to your ass, he wraps you in his arms. With zero hesitation, you search blindly forward until you find Zach’s lips upon yours - little shivers of pleasure rushing through you as he deepens the kiss. A moment of guilt passes quickly when you consider that he can probably taste the almondy sweetness of the stolen amaretti mixed in with the bitterness of the espresso from earlier.

All thoughts rapidly subside as you hear a small growl emanate from the back of his throat when your fingers snake into the curls of his hair. His hands are on your hips, steering you towards the wall - your head bumping a poorly hung frame to the floor in your desperate need for each other. You catch a small worried look from Zach as he quickly checks you for gaping wounds but on seeing that you are still in one piece, he returns to devouring you.

Tugging the hem of his shirt upwards, Zach breaks away from you momentarily to pull it off before his hand finds purchase on the back of your head to pull you close again.

“You are such a fucking tease,” he growls in your ear - nibbling and licking a stripe up your neck, “I’m gonna have the image of you clasping my cock, kissing my back whilst I cook all next week.”

“It doesn’t just have to be an image,” you softly pant, “Perhaps I’ll have to come visit you - not just for a coffee.”

With those words, Zach swiftly dispatches you of your T-shirt - and oh, how the sensation of skin upon skin maddens you. Just jammies means no underwear. His hands find your breasts - softly squeezing them as his thumbs brush relentlessly against your nipples. He pushes the wall away from behind you, guiding your body backwards until the back of your calves hit the sofa where you fall in a puzzle of limbs.

Leaning on his elbows over you, Zach nudges your nose with his to get your attention, “You sure?”

Had it been any other man, you’d have teased him but with Zach’s bruised and weary soul, you remove the element of sarcasm, “Yes. Yes, I want you. I want you to fuck me.”

You catch the tic in his bottom lip as he kneels up between your legs - his warm calloused hands skirting gently over the curves of your body. Zach then gets up from the sofa, grabs the leftover mix of tiramisù from the table and flicks your torso with it - the coolness of the liquid making your skin twitch.

“Oh,” your breath catches in your throat, “Zach, you made a mess.”

“Yeah,” he considers as his eyes rake over your body, “Better clean that up, huh?”

Small huffs of warm breath tickle your skin as he lowers his face towards you. Starting with the smudge upon your collarbone, his tongue expertly laves across your body - not missing a spot of mixture. His mouth descends further south - every lick inciting fire inside you - until he sucks upon your nipple when every meaningful thought ceases to be.

Your desperation builds as he continues to feast upon your breast - your hands clawing, scratching at him. Zach only breaks momentarily to swap sides, fastening his mouth around the other nipple with an indecent slurp. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders and squeezing tightly, you crush his head into you before tugging his hair to bring him back up for a kiss - his tongue delivering a sweetly creamy flavour from your skin.

Zach’s hands stroke and grab at the flesh upon your hips before his thumbs find the elastic of your pj bottoms to slide them off. You tug at the string of his joggers, rolling them down over his hip that his cock suddenly springs free, tapping his tummy with a tiny bead of precum. You stroke your finger through it before bringing it to your mouth - making sure that his eyes are upon you as you suck upon your digit.

Quickly shucking himself of his socks and pants, he settles himself back between your legs but now… now it’s your turn. Grabbing the spoon from the bowl on the floor, you trickle a trail of mixture down from his tummy button, over the sweet little curve of his belly. You keep the trail of sweetness going right from the base to the tip of his cock.

The shallow hitch in his breath and groan he releases as you slowly pay attention to this most sensitive part of his body is music to your ears.

“You are so fucking delicious.”

Your hands clasp around his peachy butt as you lick the mixture from the head of his cock - swirling your tongue back and forth, licking the little drips from where the head meets the shaft. There might not have been too many there but you take your sweet ass time sucking and licking there whilst keeping your eyes upon his face.

Occasionally, you feel a soft stroke upon your cheek or a rub into the knots in your shoulders as Zach watches the movements of your tongue. As there was still a lot of mixture upon the top side, you suddenly take the whole of him into your mouth eliciting a thunderous growl from him. The mix acts as a tasty lube - adding extra wetness that makes it easy to slide Zach’s cock in and out of your lips.

As his hips start to roll towards - meeting the forwards and back motion of your mouth - and you see his head drop back, you know that it’s time to slow it down again. Ensuring that you’ve licked and sucked every bit of the mixture from his skin, you release his dick with a pop.

With a gentle shove, Zach pushes you backwards - a grin upon his lips, “Two can play at that game, beautiful.”

Scraping the metal spoon against the sides of the bowl, Zach takes the remaining mixture and splatters it against your tummy and thighs. And then he pauses. Staring deeply into your eyes, he waits. Stretching the moment out before lowering his head to lick the batter from your belly - licking tiny circles into you, nuzzling the softness and kissing your sensitive skin.

Trying to send wordless hints to Zach by lifting your hips and opening your legs wider goes seemingly unheard with zero response. It isn’t until your tummy and thighs are licked sparkling clean that he gives a hint that he already knows where you want him. Need him. Shuffling closer to you, he lifts your knees over his shoulders before sliding his hands between the couch cushions and your bum. His fingers squeeze the ample flesh as he takes a deliciously long pause to gaze appreciatively between your legs.

You are wide open in front of him with his face hovering less than an inch above your pussy. Slowly, you watch him drag his eyes up your body until his eyes catch yours. He begins to lick - softly, delicately right upon your clit and it’s almost too much for you. Flattening out his tongue, he laps long, slow stripes, hungrily tasting your slickness before returning to the mind-bending, ultra-light flickering.

Feeling his eyes fall upon the heat surging through your body, you glance down to watch how he wrecks you beneath his tongue. Breathing hard and fast, you writhe under his touch before Zach moves slightly lower, sticking his tongue right into your cunt. Thrusting back and forth - making the muscle as hard as he can - he prepares you perfectly. Riling you up, making you wild for his cock - the best control Zach exerts over you.

Easing himself up, you feel Zach leave you once again. Leaving you wanting and desperate for more.

You call teasingly after him as you hear your bedside table drawer go, “Grating chocolate over me next or dripping lamb ragú across my body?”

A soft baritone chuckle tickles your ears, “Neither of those are good suggestions- I’d end up grating my fingers and I’d have to blow on the ragú before spilling it over you.”

Taking the condom from his hands, you roll it down towards the tight curls at the base of his cock. A frisson of excitement rushes through you as he lines himself up at your entrance - the thickness and weight of his length pressing against you. With one small thrust, Zach pushes the head inside and you instantly clamp down with all your might - your muscles trembling, fluttering around his hardened flesh. You look up to see him smiling down at you before pushing in a little deeper.

His spread of you is exquisite. How he opens you deeper and deeper until he bottoms out inside, with you both moaning your pleasure to invisible gods. You lock him in place by wrapping your legs around his back - your eyes focussed on each other in the golden afternoon light.

As your cunt clenches upon him again and again, a switch is flipped in Zach’s head. Gone are the gentle slow strokes and in their place are short sharp hammers from his hips and small bruises under his fingertips. The slapping of skin upon skin as he draws you in and pushes you away all starts building to a delicious crescendo as he finds that sweet spot inside you- hitting it again and again.

As he hammers away, you can feel your muscles start involuntarily squeeze and buck around Zach’s cock as you drown in waves of pleasure. Crashing through your tummy and spreading to your limbs, you allow yourself to be swept away as pleasure ripples throughout your body - not only submerging you but pulling Zach under too. He groans deeply in your ear, driving back and forth for a final time before permitting his own orgasm to overwhelm him.

✪✪✪✪✪

A cloud of steam puffs out as the silhouette of your boyfriend appears from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and one draped around his shoulders. His dark curls are hanging damp and soft over his eyes as he roughly rubs them dry, you can’t help but watch him rather than focus on the book you have open and resting on your tummy.

“You gonna get dressed, or are your friends so used to your exploits that nakedness is an option for you?” Zach teases as he sits on the edge of the bed - the hand not drying his hair, lazily squeezing your breast.

A cheeky grin spreads lopsidedly across your face, “Yeah - skin is always fashionable and surprisingly, always fits - no matter how much my boyfriend feeds me!”

The giggles and chuckles that fill the air are rudely interrupted by the sharp buzz from the intercom. The fun and ease dissipates quickly - a flash of panic distorts Zach’s features replacing the easy smile that was so recently there with a furrowed brow and mouth agape, gasping for air.

Raising your eyebrows insincerity, you grab his chin in your fingers as you gaze deeply into his eyes, “I can tell them to fuck off,” you gaze over at the alarm clock on the side, before turning back to him, “They’re fuckin’ early for a start. Listen, it’s still not to late for me to tell them all to fuck off - you and me, we can have a week of eating lamb ragú and homemade pappardelle until it comes out of our noses.”

A huffed laugh breaks through the short breaths, “You’d do that for me?”

“Course I would,” you laugh, “want me to?”

A few droplets fall like tiny diamonds upon your skin from where he shakes his head firmly. The intercom buzzes again, so you jump up - as naked as the day you were born to answer it, “What do you want?”

The tinny voices beg to be let in from the burning sun so you throw one last look at Zach over your shoulder, checking he is ok before responding, “‘Spose you can come in but take the stairs slowly, I’m still naked.”

A mock yelp of disgust echoes through the speaker with promises of pigeon steps to your front door.

“See, I bought us some time,” you grin, pinning Zach between your legs and pressing kisses all over his soapy sweet skin - his lighter chuckles muffled by your neck.

✪✪✪✪✪

“You alright, love?”

A bunch of brightly coloured gerberas are thrust into your face on opening the door of your apartment by your old colleague from when you both worked together in the local high school. There’s a flurry of kisses, handshakes and hugs before you push ice cold beers into Alex and Gray’s hands. Alex follows you onto the sofa chattering ten to the dozen about some of your former shared students. Half listening to him, you watch over Zach’s buzzing around the room protectively.

“How’s he doing? Tonight must feel quite overwhelming for him seeing all of us at once,” Alex mutters quietly as he catches your wandering gaze.

“Not great, but he did manage to sleep without any major nightmares last night - which is fucking massive progress,” you twist the fabric of your shorts between your fingers as you continue to watch him flit to and fro between the table and the fridge organising the antipasti.

Alex’s boyfriend, Gray sits upon the bar stool making small talk about where he likes to buy his prosciutto from, trying to take Zach’s mind off his obvious discomfort. Eventually, you watch him jump up to help alongside him - asking how he can help. You hear a small murmur from your boyfriend asking for the focaccia dough to be brought through from where it was resting in the kitchen.

You allow a little relief to run through your veins as you watch the two men working alongside each other, preparing sundried peppers and tomatoes, bresaola, and mozzarella across the plate - sprinkling them with olive oil, basil and chilli. Zach gives a muttered instruction to Gray who seems to understand as he retreats into the kitchen to find whatever it was your boyfriend asked him for.

“Gray’s being beautifully patient with Zach,” you whisper in Alex’s direction, your fingers tugging at the label of your bottle.

“He’s been there. He gets it.”

“What, being the new guy in the group?”

Alex snorts, “No honey, not just that. He was Delta Force. Fighting for president and country fucked him over too. We still have nightmares, sobbing and panic attacks.”

“Shit.”

You watch Alex drain his beer, nodding at you across the sofa. He sniffs before responding, “Yeah, no plain sailing here. But, he’s worth every crushingly tight hug. Every set of sweat soaked bed linens. Every welfare phone call from the police checking we are both okay from the shouting our neighbours hear.”

“I love him, Alex,” you quietly confide.

“I love Gray,” he agrees, patting your leg, “They are both two incredible men but fuck, have they both been used up and spat out.

“Want another?” Alex waves his empty bottle at you.

You nod smiling at him before returning to watch the two men preparing food quietly next to each other, their hands happy to have something to do.

✪✪✪✪✪

The door buzzes twice again with you answering to more friends and their partners, who are laden with beers and plants that soon fill your minuscule apartment to the brim. Zach finds comfort in adopting his work role - ensuring everyone is fed and watered adequately - managing tight smiles through his anxiety. Every time you pass him, you kiss and stroke him, whispering in his ear, kissing him between his shoulder blades as you squeeze past him in your tiny kitchen and passing him beers as soon as his empties.

“Thought that was my role tonight,” Zach mutters into your hairline as you press the latest ice cold bottle into his palm.

“Yeah, well, you’re slacking in your duties,” you tease before tugging his hand to get his attention away from the simmering pasta, “How are you doing?”

“S’a lot of people,” he honestly responds.

You nod at him, “Yeah, it is. A lot of people in quite a small space. If you need a break, go lay down - no one here will judge you. In fact, I remember a dinner party at Alex’s where he’d split from his previous partner and he spent the entire time in bed, sobbing whilst we all sat there eating gyoza and sushi we’d ordered in as he couldn’t bring himself to open the fridge.”

The tale brings a smile to Zach’s lips, just enough to make his dimple flash, “Nah, m’okay but thanks. Thanks for everything. You’re so fucking patient with me.”

“Just as well you’re hot, eh?” you wink at him, pinching his butt as you grab the mix of pasta bowls and plates from the side.

“Right folx, we fucking made the pasta from scratch so be grateful bitches or I will personally sling each one of you out of here,” you jokingly warn your friends.

“Like fuck you did,” Chimi pipes up from the sofa across the room, “You are telling me that the person who would probably burn a Pot Noodle has made pasta from scratch?”

“Zachary Wellison, what have you done to our favourite these-hotdogs-are-only-a-week-out-of-date human?” Chimi’s husband, Anthony, questions.

Zach spins with an air of alarm in your direction with the pot of ragú held tightly in his hands, “You served out of date food? I thought these people were your friends?”

Alex chuckles across the room, “Yeah, you should see how she treats her enemies.”

“You’re fucking mean, the lot of you. Anyway, dig in you ungrateful bastards,” you moan as Zach slinks over to swap a kiss for a plate of food, squishing up next to you on the sofa.

An air of slurping silence fills the room as everyone tucks into the delicious food. Groans of delight gradually trickling through the room as the freshly prepared food hits tastebuds perfectly.

“Zach, this is incredible,” Soph gawks at her plate wide-eyed as she spins another strand of pasta around her fork.

You furrow your brow in mock anger as you grumble, “Where’s my praise?”

A chorus of wows and well dones bring a rosy hue to Zach’s cheeks and you feel him shift awkwardly next to you. Where your thigh rests against his, you try to send him a small signal of just being there for him by knocking your knee into his.

“Zach, my sister is looking for a sous-chef in her restaurant - if this is how you cook, she’d be really interested in having you work for her,” Anthony calls across the room, “She has a lot of ex-military and homeless working for her so she’d get your background completely.”

Pushing himself up suddenly from the sofa, you watch as Zach marches out of the room - his knuckles white and his mouth a thin tight line- hiding himself in the bedroom.

“‘Scuse me,” you place your plate next to Zach’s on the floor.

“I’m so sorry — I didn’t, I didn’t mean anything by it. Just thought it would be the perfect opportunity for him,” Anthony apologises profusely as you turn to leave the room.

“I know, honey. Just give me a minute,” you pat his arm as you pass him.

✪✪✪✪✪

Hot tears run in rivulets down his cheeks, pooling on the pillow beneath his head. You quietly shuffle onto the bed next to him, running your fingers through his curls.

“They all think I’m a fuckin’ waste of space. Utterly useless and undeserving of you,” Zach stutters into the thick material.

“Is that what you took away from that conversation?” You gently question, stroking the wetness away with your thumb.

Zach sits up with a snarl in his throat, “I took from it that I’m in need of saving. Of pity jobs passed my way, ‘cause they can see that I’m just a washed-up vet who’s draining and using you.”

“Okay,” you pat his thigh. “Give me a moment. I… I want to tell you something.”

A creak signifies your weight leaving the bed and you swear you hear a louder gasp from Zach as you walk away into the living room. Five concerned faces and one guilt-stricken one turn towards you as you come into the room.

Chimi quietly asks, “How’s he doing? We can all go if it’d make it easier for him?”

You shake your head confidently, “No, I don’t think that would help him. Just… Can I borrow you for a second Alex, please?”

Pulling him closely behind you, you knock at the door before entering, “ Zach, honey. I have Alex with me. You know we used to work together at Laguna Creek with the seniors?”

A silhouetted nod comes from the hunched figure sat on the opposite side of the bed to where you and Alex come to rest.

“So when the job at the VA came up, I couldn’t help mulling it over as it seemed perfect for me but I couldn’t actually make myself sit down and write the resume or cover letter. If they didn’t shortlist me, it would have been a confirmation of every teacher’s nightmare that they’re no good at their job and letting the kids down.”

A tearful snort comes from Zach, “That’s ridiculous, you’re amazing at what you do.”

“Might seem like it but it felt very real at the time,” moving closer to him before continuing, you add, “If I made it to interview but they didn’t hire me then it would have been confirmation of the same and I don’t know that I’m tough enough for that rejection as before you came along, all I was was a teacher. It was my whole personality. I lived for every kid who passed through my hands but it wasn’t really living.

“Anyway, it was Alex who made me do it. He sat one night and rewrote my resume - adapting it perfectly for the job. He also wrote my cover letter too. And… and drove me to the interview.”

You watch as Alex’s phone lights up in his hands as he scrolls back through his Google Docs - you see your name written next to the acronyms of CV and CL as he slides the phone across the bed.

“And thank fuck he did, or I wouldn’t have you here with me,” You place your palm between his shoulder blades - still feeling the erratically fast pounding of his heart through his shirt.

You see a small shrug from Alex, before he responds, “That’s what friends do. When they spot a great path for you, they lift you up. Encourage you to go for new experiences and explore ways for you to grow.”

“I don’t know what it’s like working with my life at risk. I don’t have your lived experiences. Nevertheless, I do know what it feels like to not feel worthy or good enough and I now know that the paralysis from that fear, almost held me back from meeting you.”

With a tug of your arm, Zach pulls you across the bed into him, wordlessly sobbing into your hair as you hold him tightly in the darkened room.

✪✪✪✪✪

“…Then the surgeon had the audacity to ask me to make him a cup of tea, as if I hadn’t been there for entire fucking 12 hour surgery making sure that his patient was suitably anaesthetised and moved fucking regularly,” Soph splutters over her story as you shake your head in wonder as to how she hasn’t murdered one of those egotistical maniacs yet.

A soft shuffling in your hallway alerts you to a presence in the doorframe. The corners of your mouth instantly turn up on seeing Zach’s beautiful face as he shyly enters the room. A genuine, caring welcome back cheer erupts amongst your friends on seeing that he’d rejoined you.

“I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“Shhh,” Chimi quietens him abruptly, “You have nothing to apologise for. Want me to heat your food up?”

“Oh, that’s really kind but I think I’m done, thanks,” Zach smiles gratefully at Chimi, patting his tummy before turning towards her husband, “Anthony, I’m truly sorry and I’d love to take you up on that offer.”

Anthony shakes his head at Zach, “You have nothing to apologise for - I should have thought about how it looked to you. I’m truly sorry, man.

“I hope you don’t mind but I’ve boxed some up to drop at hers tonight - already texted her about you and your food and she’s really excited.”

“So, who’s ready for dessert?” you jump up from the floor, grabbing licked clean plates from your friends’ hands.

Zach quietly sits on the couch listening to another of Soph’s tales about the OR - even allowing himself a small chuckle at how she had gotten her own back on the baby doc who’d been so rude to her.

As you pass around heaped portions of the tiramisù on mismatched plates, a collectively indecent groan is sung in chorus by the guests. The hum of approval, you deflect from his cheeks by piping up and winking at your boyfriend, “Yeah, it had a similar effect on me earlier when Zach gave me a little taste.”

Your comment has Soph snorting the trifle through her nose as Chimi’s eyebrows hit the ceiling. Zach gives you a playful shove as everyone resumes eating before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m gonna need another container if there’s any left over,” Anthony mutters thickly, his mouth full of mascarpone.

Chimi narrows her eyes at this, “Thought she had Moretti on desserts?”

“Nah, this isn’t for her,” Anthony shakes his head as he loads up another forkful, “It’s for me - once you go to bed.”

✪✪✪✪✪

The happy sighs of full tummies fill the room as Anthony and Gray gather up the remnants of a meal well enjoyed. A whoosh is then added as the two men get on with washing up while Chimi and Soph grab the empties, popping them in the box by the front door with yawned promises from Alex that he’d take the box out as he leaves.

Coffee cups drained, you sit cross legged on the couch with Zach’s head resting in your lap - your hands alternately trying to plait his longer curls and stroking gently through them. You watch as his eyes grow heavy under your tender touch, his breathing slowly becoming heavier and his face morphing into a little boy’s - the day’s stresses and tribulations ironing away the furrows and creases, leaving slightly parted, pouty lips.

“Listen,” Chimi interrupts your reverie, “I think we’re all agreed that if you ever want us to come over for dinner again, Zach needs to be busting your ass with the cooking ‘cos that was fucking amazing.”

“Not just for his cooking skills though,” Soph agrees, “He’s softened your edges and it’s genuinely lovely watching the two of you together. He’s a good man.”

Alex nods over the top of the cushion he’s curled around, “I like him. He’s a keeper.”

You nod, gazing down at the precious soul in your lap.

“I just got a message from the sitter that they’re still awake,” Anthony grimaces at Chimi.

With a roll of her eyes, she holds her hand out to him to be pulled to her feet, “Guess that’s us, theydies and gentlethems.”

Alex ruffles Gray’s hair before adding, “We’d better head too. Soph, did you Uber over?”

“Straight from work, baby. I am dedicated,” she stretches out her arms in a ta-da of sorts, “Mia’s got the car as she’s on nights so a lift home would be really fucking appreciated.”

“Yup, gotchu girl,” Alex leans over to kiss your cheek as his goodbye - your arm pulling the back of his neck into an upside down and slightly awkward hug.

“Has everyone got their doggy bags?” You question as they head towards the door to find their shoes.

Lots of confirmations, thank yous and shout of goodbye echo through the hallway before it’s just you and Zach again.

“‘K you monster, you can stop faking it now.”

“Wasn’t faking it. Was dropping off at points but then they started saying nice things and I fought the sleep to hear what they said,” a thick, low rumble from Zach is spoken into your thigh.

“Yeah?” you tease, tickling his sides, “Ego suitably inflated?”

Snuggling his head into your thigh, you feel the cock of his cheek as he grins, “I think they missed the fact that I’m devilishly handsome but talking about how I bring out a softer side in you and that I’m a great cook - that’ll do for now.”

“Cheeky fuck,” you dig your fingers into his tummy before stroking the jab away, “I was thinking that perhaps we should get a key cut for you. For here. Cos it seems like you might not be working at the VA for much longer.”

“Baby, don’t get too ahead of yourself - I don’t know that she’ll like my cooking let alone hire me,” Zach gulps as he props himself up a little. His eyes dart around a little before he focuses on the sean of your shorts, “Also, I don’t know if I want to leave the VA. The thought of not seeing you all the time is not one I’m sure that I want to consider.”

“Sweetheart, you’d be coming home to me. You’d still be laying in bed next to me and making my coffee first thing in the morning,” you assure him as you stroke his slightly stubbly cheek, “The VA isn’t meant to be a permanent stop for you. But me? I’ll be permanent for as long as you’ll have me.”

Zach pushes himself to his creaky knees before taking your face in his hands, “Guess we’d better get that key cut.”

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#pedro pascal #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal#ppascaledit #pedro pascal smut #zach wellison x you #zach wellison x reader #zach wellison #brothers and sisters #Zach Wellison fluff #Zach Wellison smut #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal edit #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic

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mishasminion360 · 2 years ago

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If Only In My Dreams

Zach Wellison x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff; smidgens of angst; mentions of war; a little Christmas magic.

Summary: It’s never been harder to be in love with a marine when the man in question is overseas for the holidays.

A/N: Sorry to get all depresso but….this past October I lost my father very suddenly. My biggest supporter; my best friend. Mom and I barely made it through Thanksgiving and now Christmas is hitting me hard. I’ve spent the last week thinking how I’d give anything to have him here for the holidays, and my angst spawned this idea. Everyone, please remember to cherish your loved ones, especially during the most magical times of the year. I hope that 2023 will be a better year for all 😊

You can’t recall a Christmas that’s ever felt colder. Even with the fireplace roaring you can’t seem to feel the heat. His embrace warms you more than any flame.

He’s been gone for a year but it feels like 10. True to his word there hasn’t been a day where you and Zach haven’t spoken via Zoom, or a week where there wasn’t a postcard from parts unknown waiting in your mailbox.

The last letter you’d received had been accompanied by a small box. A ring box. An empty ring box. At the bottom of the postcard, following his missive, was a P.S.

“Think about it and get back to me.”

You didn’t have to think about it; you’ve had the answer locked and loaded since the day you’d met Zach Wellison. Now you just need the man to give it to. Home safe and sound.

That odd letter had arrived a week ago, and only silence followed. Now here it is Christmas Eve and you’ve never been more aware of your loneliness. The lights on the tree don’t seem to twinkle; the hot chocolate just doesn’t taste as sweet. All of the holiday magic has faded away, replaced by a heaviness that settles into your head and your heart.

***

You’re halfway through “Elf”—vaguely chuckling at the absurdity of Buddy’s holiday antics—when there comes a knock. You fly to the door faster than the narrator in “Twas the Night Before Christmas”, eager to investigate your late night visitor.

A FedEx driver is the last person you’re expecting to find shivering in the snow on your porch.

“Don’t you folks get the day off?”

“Not as long as there are still important Christmas packages to deliver into the right hands.”

He hands you a small cardboard envelope and instructs you to sign on the dotted line. You watch him wander all the way back to the warmth of his waiting truck before tearing open the envelope and fishing around for its contents.

You can only stare in awe at the diamond ring that falls into your palm, glinting like a snowflake that’s caught the light of the moon.

“Well, what do you say?”

God, you hope it’s not a dream; a holiday hallucination. There he stands on your front lawn, stateside, adorned in his fatigues and rucksack at his feet.

You’re off the porch and tearing through the snow, launching yourself into Zach’s arms with enough force to send you both falling into powder.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,” he chuckles, wrapping you in those arms you’ve been longing for. You’re instantly warm regardless of the slush filling your pajamas.

“It’s always been ‘yes’, Wellison.”

He slings has pack over his shoulder and carries you inside just as the clock strikes midnight.

“Looks like I made it just in time. Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

Zach doesn’t let your feet touch the floor until you’re beneath the mistletoe.

@grimeylady @rav3n-pascal22 @mamacitapascal @insomniamama1 @pedrosbisch @emmaispunk @lv7867 @reonlouw @hawaiianmelodies @pascalsky @pascalpanic @heythere-mel @healingstardust @delorena @pedropasxal @caesaryoulater @kiizhikehn-cedar @hellovanessax-deactivated202209 @fangirling-alert @fromthedeskoftheraven @axshadows @dragon-scales88 @spacepastel-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @pbeatriz-blog @hauntedmama @mswarriorbabe80 @horton-hears-a-honk @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage @a-trial-run-on-paper @oonajaeadira @foli-vora @dhadiirah @felicisimor @practicalghost @luz-introvertida @amneris21 @hb8301 @tanzthompson @littlemisspascal @dobbyjen @supernaturalgirl20 @alexxavicry @harriedandharassed @trickstersp8 @neganwifey25-blog @twistedboxy @emiemiemiii

#pedro pascal #zach wellison #brothers and sisters #christmas magic #fluff

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yourstrulylightstar283 · 3 years ago

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Aww, this is cute, I love this, thanks! ^^ I am glad Zach has a happy life in this one too! ^^

Super fluffy cute happy fluff with Zach Wellison and his budding girlfriend cooking bacon mac and cheese together, please.

Thank you for your request my dear 😊 wrote a short little piece, I hope you enjoy 😊

You’re my Home

Pairings: Zach Wellison x f!reader

Warnings: pure mush and fluff.

Comments and reblogs are really appreciated 🥰

Zach threw his key on the stand as he entered his apartment, body completely exhausted after a gruelling day at the restaurant. Closing his eyes he takes in a deep breath, his senses quickly filling with the aroma of your cooking. A smile slowly forms on his lips as he makes his way into the kitchen. Leaning on the door frame he watches you, chopping something, hips swaying to the music coming from the radio and that familiar feeling of warmth washes over him.

You were dating for about six months now and although he initially wanted to take it slow, he couldn’t help but fall head over heels for you. Moving away from the door frame he walks towards you, arms wrapping around your waist startling you a little.

“I could get used to this.” He says as he kisses your neck.

“Get used to what baby?”

“Coming home to you.”

“Well I know you’ve had a hard week so I thought I’d let myself in and cook some Mac and cheese.”

“With bacon?”

“Yes of course! I know it’s your favourite.”

“Can I help?”

“If you want to get the pot out and cook the pasta, I’m just finishing chopping up the bacon and spring onion.”

You both worked effortlessly in the kitchen together, you threw all ingredients into the pot and he stirred. You set the plates out on the counter and when the mac and cheese was cooked Zach took it off the hob.

Coming up behind you he pulls you in close, nuzzling into your neck.

“I love you so much baby.”

“I love you too! What’s gotten into you, your very needy tonight?”

“Just…well I’ve been thinking and what I said earlier about coming home to you, I’d love if that happened everyday.”

“Well I can be here, that’s not a problem you gave me key so I can let myself in…”

Turning you to face him he kisses you softly on the lips before leaning his forehead against yours.

“That’s not what I mean baby. I want you to move in with me, only if you want to I ….”

“Yes! I want to move in with you.”

“We can start moving your stuff in this weekend I can borrow the truck off Jake.”

“Are you sure this is what you want, I know you wanted to take things slow after everything.”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Ok I lied it’s the second thing I’ve been sure about, the first is that I’m going to marry you.”

“What?!”

“Hmm Hmm. I haven’t stopped thinking about it the last few weeks, I want to spend the rest of my life with you baby. Being homeless after coming home made me realise that life is too short and it can change in an instant. I want to seize every opportunity with both hands? And what I want more than anything is a life with you. A house or apartment aren’t what make a place a home, it being surrounded by people you love. You’re my home!”

The tears were flowing freely down your face, “I don’t know what to say I…I love you so much Zach and I want all that too.”

He kisses you again before pulling back, “ok I’m starving so why don’t we grab a bowl of Mac and cheese, glass of wine and soak in a nice hot bath?”

“Sounds perfect. I’m going to like living with you.”

He slaps you on the ass, “now get that fine ass upstairs and fill the bath, I’ll bring the rest.”

“Don’t take too long. I love you.”

“Love you too baby.”

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#supernaturalgirl20 #other people's story #other people's work #other people's writing #other people's fic #zach wellison #zach wellison x reader #zach wellison x female reader #zach wellison x fem!reader #fem!reader #bacon mac and cheese #zach wellison fluff #zach wellison x you

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pintsizemama · 3 years ago

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Foodcoma

Day 26

Welcome to the 2021 Christmas Writing Challenge! Big thank you to Steph @toomanystoriessolittletime for putting this together!!!

Summary: You make Zach Christmas dinner.

Pairings: Zach Wellison x Reader, Zach Wellison x You

Fandom: Brothers & Sisters

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 382

Warnings: Homelessness, fluff…Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Sorry this is short…kind lost steam on these lol. Tomorrow’s is much longer!

Day 25 Day 27 Christmas Masterlist Zach Masterlist Main Masterlist AO3 Join my taglist

“Ugh,” Zach groaned from the couch. You smiled to yourself as you packed up the last of the food.

“You alright there, babe?” You called out to him.

“I think I’m dying,” he lamented.

“Really?” You laughed.

“I can’t even remember the last time I ate that much food,” he moaned. “It was so damn delicious, I couldn’t stop.” You walked over and nudged his hip with your own. He scooched over a bit to make room for you to sit beside him. He was stretched out on the couch in blissful agony.

“You gonna survive?” You asked amused.

“Barely,” he whined. You shook your head lovingly.

“C’mere,” he whispered. You lay down and nestled yourself into his side. “That’s better.” He sighed in contentment. You ran your hand slowly up and down his chest. You felt pretty full too. You had outdone yourself this year with the Christmas feast. Knowing Zach’s history, you couldn’t help yourself. This wasn’t his first Christmas since he got himself off the streets, but each year had been pretty sparse. He still worried he would end up homeless again, so he scrimped and saved every penny. You wanted to spoil him… you wanted him to enjoy every minute of Christmas, so you went all out and made him the best damn Christmas dinner anyone had ever seen.

“Baby, that was amazing,” he said softly. “Thank you so much for doing all this. Over the last few years I started to hate Christmas. I’d see people blow money frivolously on items they would hardly use. I saw food going to waste and people not appreciating all they had. It made me cynical and hateful.” You hummed sadly. “But this year, with you, has been amazing. You’ve shown me what Christmas is really about.”

“And what’s that?” You asked.

“Being with the ones you love,” he answered. “And eating yourself into a coma, apparently.” You both laughed. You were really tired after all that food.

“How about a nice Christmas nap?” You suggested.

“That sounds absolutely perfect,” Zach agreed. He grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and threw it over the two of you. You snuggled into him and sighed happily. You both drifted off to sleep, content in the arms of the one you loved.

Day 27

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#zach wellison #pedro pascal #fluff #christmas writing challenge #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #brothers and sisters #too much food

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coastielaceispunk · 2 years ago

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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

+++++

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.

+++++

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

#kinktober #kinktober 2022 #for birdie!!#zach wellison #zach wellison x reader #zach wellison x f!reader #zach wellison x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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musings-of-a-rose · 3 years ago

Text

Pinned Down - 100 Followers Ask

This ask was sent via pm from @bison-writes: give me this: "This was a stupid plan." Zach Wellison and angst turning into fluff and/or smut

Pinned Down

Pairing: Zach Wellison x f!reader

Word Count: 1950

Rating: M- 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.

Prompts: (2) “This was a stupid plan.”

Notes: YES I finally get to write for Zach! Officially anyway…

This was for my 100 followers thank you prompts! If you’d like to participate, it’s open until the end of 2021 and I’ll link it here!

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

When you signed up for the Marines, you knew you’d be in for some hard work. You came from a long line of Marines and felt compelled to sign up when you graduated high school. You made it through basic and was assigned a unit where you met Zach Wellison. You two quickly became friends and trusted each other completely (as was normal when you’re being shot at). You had shipped out to Afghanistan and went on many missions together, each having to literally carry the other at some point.

Zach always had some crazy idea to help complete the mission or to get to their unit when they were pinned down. This was one of those times.

“This was a stupid plan!” You yelled to Zach as bullets rained across your cover. You had helped your unit escape but a series of unfortunate twists led to you and Zach being pinned instead.

“You didn’t have a better idea!” Zach countered and you grunted even though he couldn’t hear you, because he was right.

Thinking, an idea came to you. You gave the hand signals to Zach who nodded. Like a well oiled machine, you moved as one: Zach firing out and covering you while you ducked and ran to higher ground. Once you escaped outside of the building, checking to make sure no one was around or could see you, you scaled the back of the building you had been in. When you reached the roof, you dropped to your stomach and crawled to the ledge, keeping your head down while you loaded your sniper rifle.

Once loaded, you closed your eyes and listened. You knew Zach’s shots were coming from below you in the building so you drowned those out. Listening for the others, you soon counted 7 different groupings, indicating 7 different shooters. There may be more people, but you have to take them out first. You listened a few more moments and then lifted your head, moving your rifle slowly to the ledge and positioning your eye behind the scope.

On instinct rather than actual aim, you put the first shooter in your sights and pulled back on the trigger. You don’t hear the man hit the ground, but you hear less gunfire as now only 6 groupings remain. The others haven’t noticed their partner’s absence yet so you take advantage of this. 5 more fall in quick succession, leaving just one guy making a stand. Now that it’s quieter, only a few bullets cracking off every 10 or so seconds between Zach and the lone fighter, you listen for others - Shuffling of feet or any other indication. You hear nothing and dare to lift your head a little higher to scan the area.

A bullet ricochets off the brick in front of you, inches from your head, You duck back down, muttering out a stream of curse words. Your position compromised, you debate on shuffling further back on the roof or moving to the side when the fire coming from the lone shooter becomes rapid - apparently he’s picked up a new weapon and it’s auto. You cover your head as bullets chip away at the ledge in front of where you duck, brick and dust flying. You’re stuck, Zach is stuck, and the shooter knows he has you both.

Suddenly, the fire stops and starts back up in sporadic places as if chasing… Fucking Zach, I’ll kill him! You dare to poke your head up once more and see where the lone shooter is aiming and you see Zach doing parkour to get to him. Lucky for Zach, the shooter ran out of ammo and was fumbling with the clip, trying to reload, dropping loose bullets as he frantically tried to jam the clip in. He clicks it in just as Zach appears. You hear a few shots and then silence. You can’t see anything so you jam your eye to your scope and zoom in on the area.

You see the lone shooter’s body on the ground, obviously dead. But a few feet away, you see a very familiar body laying on the ground, chest heaving and hand clamped on his side.

You know no one else is around so you jump up, slinging your weapon over your shoulder as you scramble down the building. You run to where Zach is, checking to make sure the last shooter is dead before dropping to Zach’s side.

“I told you this was a stupid plan.”

Zach chuckles a few times before groaning in pain.

“Let me see, Wellison.”

Zach nods and moves his hands, his head laying down on the dirt floor. You shuffle your body over him, wound being on the opposite side, and bend close to look.

“I’m going to touch you, ok? I have to make sure nothing is in there.”

Zach grits his teeth. “Just do it.”

Nodding, you turn back to his wound. You take your knife out of your pocket, flipping it open with one hand and cutting the fabric around the injury to see it more clearly.

“This isn’t from a bullet.”

Zach shakes his head. “No. Fucker had a blade of some kind on him. I grabbed the gun from his after a few shots, but I missed the blade.”

You look back down and touch the skin around the slice, gauging the depth as Zach groans in pain.

“You about done poking at me?”

“This needs stitches.”

He looks at you. “Think it can wait until we reach our unit?”

You shake your head. “Not with all this sand. I don’t want to risk it getting infected.”

Zach clenches his jaw, determination settling on his face. “Just do it then.”

“If you need me to stop, tell me.”

He nods as you yank your med kit from your vest. Opening it, you pull out what you’ll need, setting it on some scraps of fabric you had cleaned and placed in it.

“I need to take your shirt off.”

Zach lets out a dark chuckle. “Not how I’d picture the setting for that statement, but ok.” He grits his teeth as you help him out of his vest, followed by his shirt. You put on the gloves and swallow down any distraction you may have by seeing him shirtless. You get to work, pouring alcohol over the wound and sewing it back together as best as you can. When you finish, you pour the remaining alcohol over your needle and clean it, packing away the kit.

“Think you can walk, Wellison?”

He nods and attempts to sit up, grunting out in pain. You grab on to him and help him stand, pulling his shirt over his head. You hold up the vest with a questioning look and he nods, so you help him into it.

“If you need me to take the vest Wellison, let me know.”

—----

You rendezvous with your team and are air lifted by chopper back to base. Zach goes to the infirmary and you head to the showers once you know he’s settled. After you’re clean, you drop your gear off in your bunk and walk to the medical tent to see Zach. Only, he wasn’t there. The nurse grumbles something about a “difficult man” and so you leave, taking a few steps outside and thinking about where he would be. You decide to check his bunk first.

Knocking on the door, you hear a grumpy voice from the other side.

“What?”

“Is that any way to treat the person who dragged your ass halfway across the desert?”

“Only because I got hurt saving your ass.”

You chuckle as you hear him say you can enter. You turn the handle and walk in: Zach is alone and standing in the middle of his bunk looking put out.

“Everything ok, Wellison?” You say as you shut the door behind you.

“I’m fucking peachy.”

“You look more pissy than peachy. Did they not help you in med?”

“They cleaned me up a bit.”

“Can I see?”

Zach nods and you walk up to him as he lifts his shirt. You pull down the side of the bandaging, studying the stitching that you did in the field. You didn’t do a half bad job, especially considering the conditions.

“It looks good. I think you’ll live.”

“Mmm,” Zach mumbles while pulling his shirt back down.

You stand straight and study his face.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“Why did you charge that guy, Wellison?”

“What?”

“You could’ve been killed. He had a clear line of sight to your position. He could’ve-”

“You were in danger.”

“Yeah, we always are during missions. Nature of the job.”

“This..this was different, and you know it.”

A moment passes in silence as you nod. He was right - you both could’ve died.

“But still - you could’ve gotten out after he ran out of ammo-”

“No, I couldn’t.”

“What? Why? That’s what you do-”

“I couldn’t wait for him to figure out his fucking life, ok?”

“Why not? You risked your life and for what?”

“For you!”

Silence.

“What?”

Zach sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. He shrugs and goes to turn around but you grab his arm.

“What do you mean ‘for you’?”

“Nothing. You-you were pinned down and I had to get you out. You’re my partner.”

“I’ve been pinned before and you never risked your life when it wasn’t necessary.”

You had ahold of Zach’s arm, but he was still facing away from you. He scoffs a little, looking down to kick at the floor slightly with his toes. He sighs and then turns to look at you, his chocolate eyes surprisingly soft.

“Because I couldn’t let you die.”

You swallow hard. “I could’ve gotten out.”

“I couldn’t take that chance.”

“Why not?”

Zach puts his hand over yours on his arm and locks eyes with you.

“I love you.”

Shock ripples across your features as you take in those words. Never, in a million years, did you think Zach Wellison loved you in the same way that you loved him. You should say something but you stand there speechless, which makes Zach look nervous.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sai-”

“I love you too, Zach.”

Using his first name told him all he needed to know. He cupped your face in his hands and pulled you close, crashing his lips to yours and prodding them with his tongue. You immediately open, pouring years of feelings into the kiss. He pulls back once to look into your eyes and you smile, giving him a slight nod. His lips meet yours again as you walk him back towards his bed. His hands slide under your shirt, settling on your hips and rubbing little circles. You match the motion on his uninjured side, your other hand gripping his arm. You make it to his bed -

“Hey man. Heard you got sta- oh shit, sorry!”

Eric, Zach’s bunk mate, had come walking in. Zach and you separate, stepping a few steps away from each other and mumbling some made up excuses. Eric looks from you to Zach and back, smiling.

“It’s about time you two figured it out.”

You both stop talking, heat rising to your cheeks.

“Look guys, I’d love to just fuck off for a few hours but I’ve been up since 0400 and I’m about dead on my feet-”

“No! No you get sleep,” you say, feeling Zach’s eyes on you. You take his hand in yours and meet his eyes as you pull him towards the door, giving him a wink. Dropping your voice you say:

“My bunkmate is gone on a mission for 2 more days.”

—----

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @astoryisaloveaffair @softpedropascal @marvelousmermaid @icanbeyourjedi @livingmydreams13 @theewokingdead @f0rever15elf @mesmorales @sarahmilesbendrix @swol-bear @mrsudontknowme @lovesbiggerthanpride @gallowsjoker @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @sunnshineeexoxo @sara-alonso @giggly-otter @dirtytissuebox @diaryofkali @adventures-of-a-noodle @punkerthanpascal @phandoz

Pedro Characters Taglist:

@beskarprincessjenny @jediknight122 @mishasminion360 @littlemisspascal @kirsteng42 @tanzthompson

One Shots/Prompts Taglist:

@itspdameronthings @tanzthompson

#zach wellison #zach wellison x you #zach wellison x reader #zach wellison fanfic #zach wellison fic #zach wellison fluff #brothers and sisters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character ff #pedro pascal characters #my masterlists #100 followers #follower thank you

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javierpinme · 3 years ago

Text

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

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