#zach wellison x reader

[munsonownsmyass]

Movie night

Zach Wellison x reader

Warnings: none, really. Just some fluff and some pining idiots.

Notes: This is my first time writing for Zach, so I'm not sure if I've nailed his character. But I do really love him, so I'm really happy that @boliv-jenta asked for a Zach fic 😁

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Words: 936

”Are you sure you want to do this?” Zach asks, his voice laced with concern. Always so worried, but your mind is made up. You really wanted this and there was nothing he could do to change your mind.

“I’m sure.” you give him a determined nod.

“Alright. You set the movie up, I’ll get the snacks and drinks.” Zach gives you a sweet smile, shaking his head as he walks away. He had a hard time understanding why you’d want to purposely make yourself scared.

Maybe it was silly, but there just was something about horror movies that drew you in. Not that you had watched many in the past, but after Zach became your roommate, it happened more frequently. Knowing he was there made it easier to watch them.

In the living room is a pull-out couch which always comes in handy on movie nights. You guys would make a little bed full of pillows and blankets, turn of the lights and of course get snacks. You have just finished setting it up, when Zach comes back and put the stuff on the little tray table you brought just for nights like this.

“Which one is it today?” He asks softly, eyeing your little setup with a smile.

“The Conjuring. I’ve heard it’s good. Apparently based on real events, which just makes it more scary.” You chuckle, putting on a brave face, but Zach looks right through it. So he just smiles softly and sit down, patting the couch beside him.

It doesn't take much more than 15 minutes before you slowly inch closer to Zach. He puts his arm on the backrest, just waiting for the first real jumpscare and like he predicted, you scream and nuzzle into his side.

“That didn’t take long.” Zach chuckles, gaining a slap on the gut from you.

“I hate you.” You mumble with a grin, focusing on the screen again.

“No, you don’t.” Zach smiles, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. And he’s right. You could never hate Zach. Quite the opposite, actually. Not that you’d ever tell him, though.

For now, you just settle for snuggling closer to him, letting his arm fall around you, his hand landing on your midsection.

“Oh shit!” You squeal and quickly bury your face in Zach’s chest. He just chuckles and squeeze you a little tighter, knowing this would happen again. “Don’t laugh. Aren’t you scared?”

“No, sweetheart. I’ve seen worse.” Zach grins and take a sip of his beer. While pulling you a little closer to him, Zach looks down. He’d never admit it if you asked, but he loved whenever you wanted to watch horror movies, because you always ended up like this. Snuggled into his side, needing him to protect you.

Ever since the day you met, you offering a struggling guy a meal, Zach had liked you. Too sweet for your own good, kinder than most and funny. You never once saw him as a homeless guy, just someone you had things in common with.

And now you were here, a year later, roommates and he was madly in love with you. He wouldn’t risk saying anything, afraid you wouldn’t feel the same and things would turn awkward, so he settled for this. Horror nights with you hiding in his nook.

When the end credits finally roll over the screen, you breathe a sigh of relief. It was finally over. But it really hadn’t been too bad, since Zach was there.

“It’s getting late. Maybe we should-”

“No!” You interrupt Zach, giving him a pleading look. “I... I need to see something fun before I can sleep. Please?”

How could he resist your puppy eyes? Zach just chuckles, kissing the top of your head. “Alright, sweetheart. But only if I can choose what to see now.”

You don’t remember much more after that. Zach put on a Disney movie, but which one didn’t matter. What mattered was you in Zach’s arms, the place where you always felt safe.

You wake up sometime during the night, needing to pee. But as you try to get up, Zach squeeze you tighter, mumbling for you not to go. “Got to use the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” You grin and make it quick.

Returning to the pullout bed, Zach instantly pull you into his embrace again. Night like these were gold to him too, having close always made him calmer, would keep the nightmares at bay.

“This is nice.” He mumbles as you settle in close, not fully awake. 

“No other place I'd rather be.” You reply, feeling flustered as his hand comes to rest on top of yours. Daring to look up, you meet his gaze. Those beautiful chocolate eyes finding yours in the dim light.

For what seems like an eternity, you just look softly at each other, no words needed. Zach is the first to break the silence.

“I like you.” He says with a hint of worry in his voice, worried you won't say it back.

“I like you too, Zach.” And then, you do something you never thought you'd be brave enough to do. Cupping his cheek, you lean in closer and kiss him softly. Just a quick, sweet kiss, but it still manages to set your body on fire.

Zach’s heart beats so fast he fears it might burst through his chest. Happiness isn't a strong enough word to describe what he's feeling right now, finally having kissed you.

For the first time in a long time, you've made him feel peace. Finally, he feels at home.

I'm not really sure who to tag in this. So I'm sorry for the unsolicited tags. Please feel free to ignore 😅❤️

@absurdthirst @wardenparker @pascalslittlebrat @littlemisspascal @nicolethered @musings-of-a-rose @thirstworldproblemss @storiesofthefandomlovers @pedrito-friskito @scorpio-marionette

#zach wellison x reader #zach wellison #zach wellison fanfiction

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2023: October 13th

Day 13: Wrist/Arm Restraints, Triple Penetration, Pet Play

Zach Wellison x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Restraints, safe words, mentions of BDSM, teasing

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

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

It’s not like you’ve never used restraints before. You have. With partners that, looking back, maybe you shouldn’t have allowed them to restrain you. Before you had gotten  smart with the ideas of more than just vanilla sex spiced up with a pair of fuzzy handcuffs to tie you to the bed. 

Now, you watch Zach start to pre-knot the rope. His eyebrows pulled together in concentration while he wraps it around itself in some configuration that you don’t know if you can figure out with a step-by-step diagram. 

It’s some knot he learned how to tie in the Marines. One that was supposed to be perfect for tying you up so you couldn’t get free, but if needed, Zach could have you out in just a moment. You had heard something about a sea knot, men’s department of the Navy or some such thing, but you hadn’t been paying attention. 

Reminding yourself that you want this, you can’t decide if it’s hotter that he’s so focused on making sure the knot is perfect, or if it’s just that he’s always this hot.

He’s your super. For the building you had moved into nearly a year ago. From the first day you had met him, getting your keys, you had thought the man had been attractive. Even more so when he had gotten rid of a snake that had decided to climb up the face of the building and into your window one day. You had made sure to never take out your screens again, third floor or not. 

Now you’re about to move in with him, your relationship growing and maturing. His apartment is slightly bigger than yours and it’s part of his pay to maintain the building. Something that he does with absolute pride. There was no sloppy maintenance or delayed fixing of anything in the building he was responsible for. Just like his job, he takes you very seriously. Hence, his concentration on the knot. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You want to double check, to make sure that you are pressuring him into something he doesn’t want. Even if he has jokingly tossed it out before. “Mess with me and I’ll tie you to the bed.” You don’t know if he had just been teasing you, or if he was relaying desires through humor that he could easily play off if you weren’t interested. 

His head whips up and he frowns for a moment before his expression clears, turning to one of surprise. “Of course I do.” He insists. “I wouldn’t- if I wasn’t comfortable, I would let you know.” 

For Zach, even that is monumental because of where he had only been a few short years before. Homeless and kind of hopeless, he had gotten a hand after slapping it away out of stubborn pride. Now, he was making sure he was talking to his therapist, and you, when he felt that pride start to get in his own way. It was something you were very proud of. 

Holding up the rope, he smirks. “In any case, it’s ready.” 

****

You like the rope he had chosen. It’s soft against your skin, even as the loop of it around your wrist tightens. Every time you struggle it tightens a bit more. Pulling against the headboard as he strips down in front of you. 

It’s a crime, being unable to touch him and you start to regret ever suggesting this as your hands itch to run over his shoulders and down his stomach. 

Zach is beautiful and he knows you think that, his grin wide and wicked as he winks at you. “Look at you, all tied up.” He whistles, unbuttoning his pants before kneeling on the bed. “I would say you’re my present all wrapped up, but you’ve only got a bow on. He jokes, sliding his hand up your calf. 

“Zach….” you huff, biting your lip at the look in his eyes. When he looks like that, you know that he’s planning on making you think that the only name you remember tonight is his. 

“What’s your safeword, baby?” He asks, hands sliding between your thighs and pushing them apart like he was parting the sea. “Want you to tell me.” 

You aren’t getting extremely kinky tonight, the restraints are the only big thing that you can think of, but it’s just a part of Zach’s nature. He’s going to make sure you remember the plan before he dives in. Making you feel even better about the decision to cement your life with him and build a future together. 

“Cherries.” You confirm, tugging your arms slightly and whimpering at the slight tug. You can’t get out, completely at his mercy and enjoying it. He can and will do whatever he wants as he keeps you restrained to the bed. The safeword there as your safety net, your security blanket although you know you won’t use it. 

“Good girl.” You barely repress your moan and from the smirk on your boyfriend’s face, he knows what those words do to you. 

Cocky smugness looks good on him. His boyish charm shining through and mixing with the dirtiness you have been delighted to discover. While he’s not Christian Grey, ready to dominate you and whip you, he’s got his own appeal that is even better than a fictional character in a shitty BDSM book series. 

“Asshole.” You huff playfully, running your foot along his jean clad thigh, and blowing out a breath of anticipation. “Hurry up and touch me, baby.” You whine, pouting at him and grinning when he immediately moves his hands up your thighs, squeezing and moving his fingers higher. 

“You want me to touch you?” He asks teasingly, his warm eyes turning rich and promising. Making your fingers itch to touch him and you hiss in annoyance when you can’t, making him giggle slightly at the first swipe of his fingers through your folds. 

Your moan is the first of many to come tonight. Already cursing and praising the restraints that will keep you right where you want to be. Tied up to Zach’s bed. 

#pedro pascal #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #absurdthirst kinktober #zach wellison #zach wellison x f!reader #zach wellison x reader #zach wellison x you #zach wellison smut #zach wellison imagine #zach wellison fanfiction

[musings-of-a-rose]

Since Forever

Pairing: Zach Wellison x f!reader

Word Count: 1150+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

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

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

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

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

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Zach Wellison Masterlist

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

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

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

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

He hoped he wasn't too late.

Due to his injuries, he was sent home from his tour early. He’d be fine but they didn’t want people with injuries to be in the trenches, so to speak. The moment he stepped out of the airport, he hailed a cab, immediately giving the driver your address. 

Zach wipes his palms down his pant legs nervously, bouncing his leg rapidly to try and relieve some of the nerves. He’d faced giant desert spiders, starvation, dehydration, literal enemies trying to kill him, but this may be the death of him. All this waiting and the uncertainty of your answer. But he knows he has to tell you - he can’t spend another day alive without telling you. 

The cab pulls up to your home and Zach hands him some cash to cover the ride and a tip, thanking him as he practically launches himself from the cab. But once he’s at your door, he freezes, hand curled into a fist to knock on the door. 

What if she freaks out? 

What if she doesn’t feel the same? 

What if she tells me this is too weird and she never wants to see me again?

Before he can run and think more on this, the door opens and there you stand, in a tank top and little pajama shorts, looking half asleep. Shit, he’d forgotten how early it was with the time difference. She blinks and rubs her eyes, trying to focus on him.

“Zach?”

“Hey, Bean.”

She reaches out a hand, placing her palm on his chest. “It’s…you’re really here?”

“I am.”

Without hesitation, she jumps into his arms, flinging her own around his neck as she hugs him tight. He grunts in pain and he hates himself for ruining the moment for as soon as the sound left his lips, she lets go of him, dropping to the floor.

“What happened? You weren’t due back for another 4 months! Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?” She palming at his fatigues, as if she were trying to see through it.

“I was hurt, yeah-”

She gasps, hands flying to her mouth. “Are you ok?”

Zach grabs her by the shoulders to stop her from freaking out. “I’m ok, Bean. I mean, I almost wasn’t but I was lucky. They sent me home because they couldn’t have any injuries outside of minor scrapes and cuts-”

“IT’S MORE THAN MINOR??” Worry fills her eyes as she rakes them over his body.

“Bean, look at me.” Her eyes find his and he smiles at her. “I’m ok, really. They stitched me up and sent me home. If I wasn’t ok, I’d still be in the med tent.”

She nods and Zach is surprised to find tears falling from her eyes. “Can…can I hug you?”

Zach pulls her in immediately, moving her around where he has stitches and holds her tight. She holds him back and he hears her sniffling into his chest, so he kisses the top of her head. They stay like that for a minute before she pulls back, wiping at her face. 

“I’m s-sorry, Z-Zach. I l-left a w-wet m-mark on your cl-clothes.” She’s still coming down from the crying, her speech stuttered with sobs.

Zach cups her chin and lifts it to look at him. “Bean, it’s ok. I’m not worried about-”

Her lips press to his and he freezes, his brain trying to catch up with what was happening. She feels the same way?

But he takes too long to respond, his body frozen and she misinterprets his non response as a bad sign. She breaks the kiss and backs up a step, her arms wrapping around herself as she avoids eye contact with him.

“I-I’m sorry, Zach. I didn’t mean to fuck things up. Can we just forget about it and move on?”

Work, brain! Make words!

“No.”

Her eyes meet his briefly, filling with fresh tears that were caused by his blunt response. 

“Please, Zach. I don’t want to lose you as a friend.”

Zach shakes his head. “No, I meant I’m not forgetting the kiss.”

She sobs and takes a deep breath. “Can’t you? I don’t want to lose-”

His large hands come up to hold her face as he pulls her to him, pressing his lips to hers. His tongue gently brushes against her soft lips and she parts them, her hands coming up to fist in the fabric of his fatigues. She’s perfect and warm and here and she feels the same for him. She has to, right? She is kissing him. Or is this because he was injured overseas?

Zach pulls back, her head still in his hands as he stares into her eyes.

“Why did you kiss me?” He asks.

To his surprise, she shifts nervously, almost looking…embarrassed?

“Bean?”

“Because I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.”

His eyebrows raise as he takes her in, the same face he’s known practically his whole life, fully appreciating how breathtaking she was. 

“But if you don’t feel the same, that’s ok. We can forget it and I’ll just get over it and-”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I-what?”

Zach smiles, a little chuckle coming from his chest. “Don’t you dare forget those feelings.”

Her eyes finally find his. “Why?”

Zach makes sure she’s looking at him when he speaks. “Because I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.”

A smile slowly stretches across her face as she realizes what he’s said. “R-really?”

He pulls her face close to his, speaking low and quiet before kissing her. “I love you so much, Bean.”

She grips the fabric of his shirt and starts to pull him inside, Zach gently closing the door behind him with his foot, neither one of them breaking the kiss that they’d each longed for for so long.

—----

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#zach wellison #zach wellison x you #zach wellison x reader #zach wellison fanfic #zach wellison fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #brothers and sisters

[misspearly1]

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

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

Thank you ♥️

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

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

New Beginnings

Pairing: Zach Wellison x F!Reader

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

And that life includes you at his side. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The offer to move in with him.

-

Tagging:

Perma Taglist (Everything): @marydjarin @kirsteng42 @supernaturalgirl @supernaturalgirl20 @harriedandharassed @joelmillerscoffee @joelsrifle @swtaura @alexxavicry @boliv-jenta @dragonsondragons @practicalghost @janebby @faceache111 @sleepylunarwolf @tusk89 @anismaria @graciexmarvel 

All Pedro Pascal Character Content: @joelsflannel @mswarriorbabe80 @readsalot73 @allthe-ships @avengersftspn @hb8301 @scorpio-marionette @squidwell @sunnshineeexoxo @trickstersp8 @graciexmarvel @tanzthompson @bbyanarchist  @oogaboogasphincter 

#zach wellison #zach wellison x female reader #zach wellison x you #zach wellison x reader #zach wellison x f!reader #zach wellison x fem reader #zach wellison x y/n #zach wellison smut #zach wellison fluff #zach wellison fic #zach wellison fiction #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pearly ask box #pearly reply 💜 #pearly fics #follow 👑 share ❤️ enjoy 🍑 #enjoyreaders

[javierpenaispunk]

Fic recs masterlist (Part 2)

(Part 1)

I have decided to put together a list of my favorite fics written by some very talented people. Some of them I have read more than once because they always comfort me on a bad day ♡

It will be regularly updated with new fics but also with some older ones as i am trying to catch up with the ones I missed.

Divider by @saradika

Dieter Bravo

• I Crawl Home To Her by @chronically-ghosted

• Give To Me by @sp00kymulderr

Dave York

• Pull Me Into Your Embrace by @lovesbiggerthanpride

• Caught Kissing Santa by @wildemaven

Maxwell Lord

(Coming soon)

Max Phillips

• I Wanna Do Bad Things With You by @chronically-ghosted

• Feast On This by @morallyinept

• Let Me by @max--phillips

Pero Tovar

(Coming soon)

Marcus Moreno

(Coming soon)

Zach Wellison

(Coming soon)

#dieter bravo x reader #dave york x reader #maxwell lord x reader #max phillips x reader #pero tovar x reader #marcus moreno x reader #fic recs #zach wellison x reader

[coastielaceispunk]

Loved and Loaded - Gun Play with Zach Wellison

This is dedicated to my lovely @ezrasbirdie on their birthday! You showed special interest in this story and helped give me the confidence to write it, so here it is! All for you because you deserve all the things! Hope you had a wonderful time celebrating YOU, love!

Loved and Loaded

Zach Wellison x f!reader

Word Count: 4.9K+ (I am not sorry)

Warnings: Language, feelings, fluff, insecurities, military service mentions, past homelessness, use of firearms, descriptions of firearms, GUN PLAY (shotgun and pistol, NO insertion), gun competence kink, anxiety and PTSD, idiots in love, oral m receiving, unprotected PinV, little dirty talk, little begging, little cum play, little cockwarming, creampie. This got a little away from me because Zach deserves the world ok?!  

Masterlist | Kinktober Outline | Absurdthirst's Kinktober Prompt List

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Your boyfriend Zach is an angel, and sometimes you think you don’t deserve him because of how good he is to you. Dating five months now, you know you have already fallen for this warm and safe man. You want to say those three words but you don’t want to scare him off, even if you think he feels the same. It’s almost like an emotional standoff, both of you afraid of the same things because of your pasts. Zach is your angel, but an angel with many demons. Demons you have chosen to protect him against because you love him.

You met Zach when you moved into your new apartment in the big city, he is actually the building manager and has his own apartment on the top floor. You remember thinking to yourself, what a nice gig. This tall, broad shouldered, handsome brunette with deep chocolate eyes met you in the lobby to help you move in and tell you everything you needed to know about the building amenities and the area. You couldn’t stop staring at his beautiful nose that led to pink plush lips, if he noticed he didn’t say, and just smiled softly at you. He was so personable, and when he shook your hand and said your name for the first time, you were a goner. 

Zach helped you with your few boxes into the one-bedroom, his easy strength making the task fly by to your dismay. You wanted to know him more, wanted to see him in your new space. Strangely…he fit. Well, he made everything you own and the doorways he stood in look small, but he fit there. It seemed he didn’t want to leave right away either because he stayed and asked more about you, already past small talk. Learning that both of you were single made you take the leap.

“Zach, would you like to grab a coffee sometime? Maybe show me your favorite cafe you mentioned earlier?”

He watched as you nervously fiddled with the piece of tape in your hands, lifting his eyes to yours he sighed, “Yes, wow, I was trying to work up the courage to ask you, ha, sorry I’m no good at this. That would be great.”

Zach rubbed at the back of his neck and you stepped closer to place your hand on his arm. “You’re so good at this, that’s why I asked!”

Both of you smiled and for a second you were lost in his eyes again, his arm so warm under your hand beneath his flannel. 

“If you want to take a break now that everything's safe here, I could take you to lunch? I’d like to hear more about your new job.”

“I’d love that, Zach.”

That lunch turned into a walk through the park, then ice cream, then take-out Thai for a picnic dinner on the floor of your new apartment. He insisted on eating in his apartment but you’d thought this would be fun. It was. More intimate and relaxed, no pressure, small touches and so many shared laughs about the people you saw on your walk. Zach was very good at this, and honestly, you both seemed to just want to spend time together. 

Zach was an open book about his life, wanting you to know everything about him early on during your dates. “I don’t like secrets and I am not ashamed,” he had said to you on your third date holding your hand tight. That’s when you learned of his struggles and your heart weeped for him. It’s been three years but you can’t imagine it will hurt any less as time goes on. Looking at him and his happy demeanor, you would have never guessed he was ever homeless. You knew he was a veteran- a Marine- with three tours in Afghanistan, only by one of the very few photos he had around his place. He was so thin but had since filled out, happy and healthy. He jokes he needs to work out and you just shut him down with a kiss these days. It hurts your heart to this day to think of what he may have looked like when he didn’t have a home. You rarely have a reason to think like that though, Zach is who he is now and he's thriving.

One of the very few success stories, he is. The military failed him after he sacrificed so much for them, serving his country to come home to nothing, only to be discarded and forgotten. Zach was a smart man who never turned to drugs or alcohol, even after two years when it seemed there was no hope for change after everything he did. Then after a brawl in the park where he slept, a park you’ve been to many times in the past, hope came in the form of a brother, Justin. Zach calls him a pain in his ass lovingly because then he was in the worst place and didn’t want the hand out. Justin gave him a place to sleep and an introduction for a job but Zach did the rest with his hard work ethic and personability. Justin is an amazing friend to this day, and tells you all the time he is so happy Zach found you.

When you started staying over at each other’s apartments more and more, there was nothing you didn’t know about one another. Knowing how his breath would hitch when you kissed just under his ear or how a groan would feel vibrating from his chest behind you, made you want him forever. You knew what he needed when he had a nightmare holding him close whispering you’ve got him. He knew how to ease your anxiety on your rougher days. You learned each other so quickly like it was seamlessly meant to be. The first Sunday morning you woke up in his bed, tangled naked limbs, he told you about how he took back some control over his traumas.

Every Sunday morning, Zach would go to the local indoor shooting range. He asked if it was something you would like to go with him to see and you didn’t hesitate in saying yes. You weren’t a fan of guns but if it was part of his life, you wanted to be there for him. The smile on his face lit up the whole room.

“My father taught me when I was young ‘guns are for safe sport shooting or subsistence hunting nothing else,’ he taught me how to shoot when I was a kid duck hunting,” Zach smiled fondly at the memory of his dad and you hugged him tighter knowing how much he missed him, “then I went to war…,” you scratched the short scruff on his chin to bring him back to you, “so me going to the range to shoot kinda reclaims the calm I used to have and serves his memory.”

“That’s beautiful, Zach, let’s get dressed and go then, I would love to see you shoot.”

Not knowing what to expect you followed his lead and dressed comfortably, more of your belongings finding their home in his apartment, then with to-go coffees in hand you watched Zach grab a long gun case from the guest room closet. Didn’t spend too much time there so of course you didn’t know of its existence until now.

“How many guns do you own?” It wasn’t accusatory, it just kind of flew out of your mouth.

“Just two, a shotgun and a pistol, they were my dad’s.”

Oh goodness, he's a sweetheart. Them being family heirlooms makes it better in your mind for whatever reason, he doesn't give off the I gotta have every new rifle guy vibe, which is great. Never did, and it’s not like you're reevaluating anyways. 

Your first time at the range was pretty fun. The smell of gun oil and smoke surrounded the space. Everyone there knew Zach and he introduced you to every single person as his girlfriend, swoon, and they were all super nice. It was so social it surprised you and he looked so at ease. You watched as he got all set up at his “usual booth” opening the case and handing you his ear muffs and yellow shooting safety glasses, he said you looked so cute and you blushed. Zach borrowed hearing protection and glasses from the range box. Then he pulled the shotgun and pistol free from their case. Your jaw dropped. They were huge and Zach handled them like they weighed nothing.

He caught your look as you sat beside him on the tall stool and smirked. You didn’t know but he was so happy you were there with him and he was going to show off a little. Wait until you see what his hands can really do.

Your first trip to the range was months ago. At first you went for support, now you go for your own selfish reasons. Zach’s competence with these guns is fucking hot. Watching him handle the mechanics of the shotgun makes you burn. How he flicks the safety switches and levers of the pistol makes you jealous of the piece of metal. And he knows…he has to, because every Sunday night you are insatiable. Shit, sometimes right when you get home from the range forgoing your lunch to climb him in the living room. 

The confidence he exudes with the long single barrel shotgun in his arms is so sexy it makes you stupid. The spark of the muzzle flash lighting up his gorgeous profile every shot. The wide stance of his long legs, the even breaths you see him take as his tummy rises and falls before he pulls the trigger, the stock of the gun pressed firm against his broad shoulder absorbing the recoil like its nothing, and his hands. For fuck sake his hands. His hands are so large they fully surround the grip and slide. His palm is almost too wide and his fingers almost too long, which seems impossible but it's true. It’s like parts of his big hands get in his damn way, especially when shooting the pistol.

Zach’s firm hold on the pump action slide as he chambers shotgun shell after shotgun shell makes you drool. You have to remember to close your mouth. When he cocks it back and forth the sound goes straight to your pussy. He has let you hold the gun, has taught you how to shoot it, how to load it for fun, and it damn near takes all of your strength to pull the slide back and then forward again. When he does it as quickly as he does…his arm strength shows and you clench. 

How he gave you technical directions when showing you how to shoot his pistol made you sweat. First, his whole body was pressed against your back as his long arms reached around you to hold the gun over your hands. Your hands disappeared under his, but he was so gentle. Second, even with the ear muffs his husky voice was right in your ear, his breaths falling along your neck and shoulder, as he directed your every move. Helping you to pull the slide back and lock it he walked you through inserting the magazine until it seated, sexual. Then he told you to pull the slide release lever down with your thumb, but you couldn’t reach and he giggled when you had to use your support hand to do it, the sound moving you against him as his shoulders bounced. Last, he instructed you to click the safety off and press the trigger, do not pull at it, be nice to it, let it surprise you, which again sounded sexual. With a “Fire away, babygirl” he let go but stayed at your back steadying you and you fired. The recoil of the handgun was violent but you held onto it and fired again. Zach only gave you two rounds so you placed it down on the shelf in front of you when you were done firing just before he turned you and lifted you into his arms.

“My girl is a helluva shot!”

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he jumped up and down with you both laughing. Everyone cheered for you and when he finally put you down after a quick kiss, you were blushing. That was a fun day.

Now you sit, staring disrespectfully, as Zach loads the shotgun’s magazine tube that sits under the barrel. To ensure each shell seats inside he pushes two fingers deep into the loading hole, over and over and over again, until it is full. The loud sound of him racking the gun, chambering his first round, makes you jump out of your filthy thoughts. 

“You okay, babe?” Zach asks teasingly because he sees the way you cross your legs tighter and swallow hard when your attention is back and clear.

“Y-Yes, hmhm,” you answer with little force. 

Zach watches you fiddle with the small white cloth as you help him clean the two weapons at the end of the range time. You help with the pistol, it being smaller and easier to handle. You still gape at the way he practically throws around the hefty shotgun. You two are in the common area with tables now, away from all of the sharp sounds of the others shooting. Then he asks something that catches you so by surprise you choke on air.

“Do my guns turn you on, babygirl?”

“WHAT?! No…no, um, oh my god…”

“Shit, babe, I’m sorry I was just watching you today and like every Sunday I can’t wait to get home because it's like we are both so horny for each other, I thought it was the guns,” Zach panics and rambles reaching for your hand and you laugh. He just looks at you while you crack up at how ridiculous you are.

When you finally collect yourself you lean towards him, a little fear still in his eyes like he messed it all up, with a hand on his face to soothe him, you finally confess. “It’s not the guns, Zach, it’s how you handle the guns. Your…um, competence and confidence…I get really jealous of the guns with your strong hands all over them, bending them to your will, it’s hot…you’re hot.”

Zach closes his eyes with a low groan. You can see the obvious effect your words of praise are having on him with a glance at the growing bulge in his jeans. No time like the present to tell him your other confession.

“Zach, baby,” his eyes open to meet yours darker than before, “I had this fantasy that you made me cum with the shotgun in your hands.”

“Ohmafuckingod,” Zach reaches down to forcefully shove his palm down over his growing erection. “We gotta go, let’s go, pack up, I gotta get you home before I take you over this shitty table.”

You chuckle at his frantic state and help his shaking hands put the clean, unloaded guns into his case. He pulls his truck keys out and takes your hand to pull you out of the building giving rushed goodbyes to the other regulars. 

Once the truck has started down the road Zach places his palm over your thigh, his fingers dangerously close to your trigger. “Are you sure you wanna do this baby?”

“I do. I think about it every Sunday, haha. But really only if you’re okay with it, and it's not too weird?”

“No! No, it’s not weird at all, I get it, I get half hard watching you comfortably shoot the pistol now. Please, let me make this good for you, it will be safe, it will be so hot.”

You can tell by the way he’s continuing to ramble and his white knuckle grip on the steering wheel he will love this as much as you. You’ve heard about gun and knife play but it never really made sense to you until your pussy reacted to Zach at the range. 

The ride in the elevator up to his apartment was brutal and it stopped twice for other people. He winced and you laughed when they wanted to talk to him about building things. You added to his struggle keeping your hand in his back pocket caressing his ass. Having dealt with them with expert kindness and professionalism, the gun case covering his excitement, you were bidding them a good day, alone again.

“You’re a menace.” Zach leaned over and smacked your ass making you yelp.

The burst through the front door was frenzied, your tongues licking into each other’s mouths with heavy pants, the gun case placed on the counter top, his hands squeezing your ass and your arms around his shoulders, hands in his hair. He liked when you played with and pulled his hair. Zach pulled your bottom lip between his teeth with a growl and you whimpered when he finally pulled back for air.

“Get undressed, leave only your panties on, baby girl, and I will get our toys ready.”

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips when he kissed you again, Zach swallowed the sound, drinking in your want. Then he pulled away tapping you on the thigh reminding you what he wanted. You pulled your sweatshirt and tee over your head as you watched him open the gun case. His eyes flitted to your breasts when you removed your bra as he picked up the empty pistol and shotgun. Zach double checked they were both unloaded and clear, when he looked at you, you nodded in confirmation. 

He rested the long shotgun over his shoulder, held the pistol in his left hand, and walked right past you as you peeled off your leggings and shoes to chase after him. The smirk he gave you over his shoulder nearly killed you. Zach could be so soft and then he could be this wall of controlled confidence. You loved that you get both all the time. Then he turned and sat down on the couch laying the shotgun across his lap. The pistol was set off to the side;  you guess he wants to start big.

“Come here, beautiful.”

You realized you were frozen again, staring, when he reached his hands out for you to stand between his open thighs. Zach places his hands on your hips, his thumbs brushing back and forth over your curves when he presses his lips to your stomach, licking and kissing out towards each of your hips as he squeezes you in his strong hands. You let out a breathy sigh and tilt your head back basking in his attention. You don’t realize when his hands leave you, you are so caught up in his mouth with your hands in his hair. Then…

CRACK CRACK

You jump with a squeal when Zach racks the shotgun back and forth on his lap. Your wild eyes find his, lust blown with excitement, and then focus on the large gun in his capable hands. The whine that escapes your parted lips is pathetic. Zach coos at you that it’s okay with a soft hand along your bare thigh, goosebumps taking over your body with anticipation when he urges you to open your legs a little wider. You don’t realize you are shaking until he takes your hand.

“Baby girl, look at me, is this still okay?”

“Yes, I’m just too excited I guess, is–is this still okay for you?”

“Hell yes,” he pulls your hands down to press over the crotch of his jeans where he’s practically throbbing to be set free, “feel how hard you’re making me baby, your want and trust in me is driving me crazy!” You gasp as he starts to move your interlaced hands over his length then he pulls away when he starts to roll his hips up. “Let me fulfill your fantasy, baby.”

As you lean back up above him, Zach points the end of the shotgun barrel at the floor between your feet. You place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself when he begins to slide the chilling metal of the barrel up the inside of your right leg. Both of your breathing gets heavier the closer he gets to the top. Then, he presses the cool barrel forcefully to your core over your underwear and you whail. The firm pressure and thickness is incredible as you finally feel how wet you are when your panties stick to your center. The shotgun is so long, half of it sticks out behind you between your legs, the thought of Zach reaching around and picking you up by the gun infiltrates your brain and your breath hitches. His next move surprises you more though.

“Close your legs.”

Shocked, you look down at him and do as he says. His gaze is focused on the barrel between your thighs. The friction changes as he rests the shotgun in his right arm reaching to place his left hand on your hip. 

Then, Zach pushes and pulls the barrel along your cunt and you scream his name. The cold metal a solid edge causing more arousal to leak from you, making the ride slick. You’re a complete mess in front of him as you start to move your hips a little in time with his rhythm. The sounds you’re making as you ride his shotgun at eye level make him weak. His control falters when he can’t help but touch himself again over his jeans. His moan pulls your eyes open to watch his desperateness and you become so close to cumming all over his shotgun. 

Zach sees your gaze flick to the pistol on the couch and then back to him. 

You need more.

He stops stroking himself, never losing his rhythm between your legs, to pick up the pistol. Now he is holding both weapons below you and you can’t think straight. Zach starts at the outside of your thigh to spread the cold metal sensation all over your body as you ride his shotgun. Across your stomach, flat under the weight of your breasts, to each nipple to bring them to hardened peaks before his eyes, and then down your arm. You know the gun is safe and empty but he still maintains safe trigger control and his competence showing takes you closer to your release. 

You are right on the edge, grinding your swollen clit just right along the slick barrel, when Zach puts the pistol in your hand. He looks up at your heavy eyelids as he finally removes his gray t-shirt revealing his freckled skin. 

“Do me, baby, I want to feel what you feel.”

The needy way he husks it out has you dumbfounded and he takes your hand with the gun to drag it along his collar bone. Zach moans at the cold bite of the pistol as he lets go of your hand to start your own path. He puts both of his hands on the shotgun to increase the pressure and help push you over the edge. When you bring the pistol barrel to his nipple he whines and the sound shoots straight to your lower belly beckoning your orgasm. You shatter with trembling legs all over the barrel of the long gun chanting his name. 

The shotgun is pulled from between your thighs when you swat at it to give your clit a break, the metal is a harsh feeling after a strong orgasm. With the shotgun back across his lap Zach pulls your ruined panties down your legs and they fall at your feet. You watch closely as Zach inspects your mark on the gun, the barrel slick and shiny with your cum. Your knees give out and you fall to the carpet in front of Zach when he licks a long stripe to taste you on his shotgun.

You put the worry in his eyes at ease when you start your journey along his body with the pistol again. Just as he did to you but you map the expanse of him by following his freckles over to each nipple then down his tummy to the dusting of hair above his jeans. It’s easy to see Zach’s control is slipping when he places the shotgun to the side with shaking hands. His breathing erratic when you begin to pull his jeans and briefs down his thighs and off of him completely.

Zach is so turned on it almost looks like it hurts so you want to give him some relief. His cock leaking against the soft swell of his stomach. He deserves it. 

With your free hand you push him lightly to lay back on the couch. The sigh of relief he exhales is cut short when you drag the cool metal handgun up the inside of his thigh. You rest your hand over his hip when he starts to thrust shallowly. The pistol reaches the top of his plush inner thigh and he groans, he has no idea what's coming but you’re on your knees before him flush and beautiful, then you point the barrel down towards the couch under him and press the top of the pistol against his balls.

Zach cries your name and throws his head back as his hands claw at the couch.

“I’ve got you, babe.” You assure him and he brings his head forward to watch you intently.

You lift his cock up to compare it to the gun in your hand. Zach is longer and thicker than his very large handgun, more of your slick gathering along your thighs learning this information. You lean forward and tease him for only a second when you lick up the side of the pistol, the metal tastes sharp on your tongue. When you reach the top you shift and quickly descend on his length, your warm, wet mouth taking him all the way until his curls tickle your nose.

Zach writhes seated above you babbling a string of curses and your name as you bob up and down on him, hollowing your cheeks to suck him hard. His hands are in your hair to steady himself and when you feel that he is close he lifts your lips off of him.

“Get up here.” He growls pulling you up by your waist.

You fling your arms around his shoulders, gun still in your hand resting on the back of the couch, as he lines his cock up to your entrance and fills you completely with one steady thrust. He’s so big he usually has to open you up before giving you his cock but you were so wet from all the teasing and danger he slid right in, hitting the deepest part of you. He immediately holds you down to his hips by your waist as he fucks up into you hard and fast.

“Oh my god, Zach!”

“That’s right, baby, scream my name. Tell the whole building you’re mine. Fuck…you’re always so tight!”

You’re just bouncing up and down on his cock trying to hold on, when you can’t grasp his shoulder like you want to with the gun he takes it from you.

“Come on, baby, cum on my cock, squeeze me and make me cum with you. I'm so close.”

Zach begs for your release and enforces it when he pushes the thick grip of the pistol into your clit. His hand is covering the whole gun with the barrel angled away to get better leverage over the grip making overwhelming circles. It doesn’t take long before you're pulling his hair with a shout as your second orgasm crashes through you. You feel like a live wire, feeling the electricity fizzle out at the tips of your fingers and toes. You have no more rounds after that one.  When you come back down, you realize Zach threw the handgun onto the floor and he is bringing your body as close to his as he can to chase his own release. 

He thrusts up into you with his arms tight around you and he starts to mumble into your neck. “I love you, I love you, oh fuck, I love you so much.”

You pull his face from your shoulder and it dawns on him that you could hear him. You kiss him desperately whispering I love you, I love you too into his plush lips. After a few more deep thrusts he stills and comes hard inside of you with a silent cry. You feel his furrowed eyebrows against your temple as he lazily grinds through his orgasm. 

Spent, Zach leans you both back against the couch to slump together in a sweaty, smiling mess.

“Do you mean it?”

He whispers it into the open space like he didn’t want you to hear his insecurity.

You push yourself up to sit on his lap, his softening length still nestled inside of you, it’s intimate when you hold his cheeks to assure him. 

“I love you, Zach, I have for a long while now.”

He smiles up at you with so much adoration. “Me too.”

When you kiss this time it’s a promise. I promise to care for you. I promise to be there for you. I promise to protect you. I promise to help fight your demons.

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A/N: No regular taglist for kinktober but I will tag my beautiful beta @lowlights, @littlemisspascal, and @absurdthirst for the inspo. Thanks for reading loves!

Next: Hypnosis/Monster Fucking with Max Phillips

#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

[supernaturalgirl20]

Lose Control

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), PinV sex, sub/dom relationship, orgasm denial, Zach has a temper (not towards you), cursing, fluff.

A/N: first req from my darling @scorpio-marionette for the smut prompt “mmm, I want you to look at me when I’m inside you.” 🥰 I went with Zach on this one - there just isn’t enough of him.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

The door slamming shut reverberated throughout the house, alerting you to the current state of his mood. His temper was something he was working on since coming back from his tour overseas but every now and then it slipped through the cracks. It was never directed at you - at least not in a bad way.

You could feel him behind you - the heat radiating off him - as his hands grip your waist tight. His deep baritone voice whispering into your ear. “I want you in our room, naked, in five minutes.” A shiver runs through you - from excitement or nerves, you’re not entirely sure - but you waste no time in abandoning the dishes and rushing towards your shared room.

Fuck you loved when he was like this. All riled up from a hard day at the garage. His clothes were covered in motor oil and his face was a little dirty. Fuck you could come right now just from the thought.

Making your way inside you quickly discard your clothes and kneel at the end of the bed, hands on your thighs. The sound of his footsteps on the stairs makes your cunt ache, desperate for his touch. You knew that something had upset him today and you wanted him to use you for his own pleasure.

The handle pushes down and he opens the door, gaze fixed on your glorious naked form. You dare not look at him, not yet - until he gave permission. He moves around the room stripping as he goes and butterflies flutter in your stomach with anticipation. You never really knew what to expect with Zach. Sometimes he would draw things out, tease you for hours before finally giving you what you wanted. Others, he would take you then and there.

He stood before you - your eyes cast down, staring at his bare feet. “Look at me baby.” His hand caresses your cheek, his thumb rubbing along your bottom lip. “Open that pretty little mouth for me - wanna fuck it, baby.”

His hand grips your hair tight as he thrusts into your open mouth. The feel of your hot, wet tongue around him makes him groan in pleasure. “Fuck…oh fuck…feels so good baby.” He continues to fuck your face, his cock hitting the back of throat. Tears well in your eyes as you gag around him.

Suddenly he pulls out with a pop, his hand in your hair gripping tight as he tilts your head back. “On the bed, now.”

Scrambling onto the bed you get on all fours the way he likes, but he quickly flips you onto your back. “Not tonight baby, wanna see you fall apart.” Zach pushes your thighs apart and nestles between them, rubbing the tip of his cock along your slick folds. “So goddamn wet…fuck…all this for me baby?”

“Yea…yes you…only you.” Oh! You gasp as he sinks into you, your legs wrapping around him pulling him closer. His pace is slow and languid and oh god you need him to fuck you. “Please…Zach need…oh fuck…need you to…”

His hand grips your neck, his fingers brushing the skin there. “You’ll take what I give you, baby, and you’ll thank me for it.” A heat begins to build and your breathing becomes ragged and just as you feel yourself climb that hill, trying to reach the peak…he pulls out. A frustrated groan passes your lips and you look at him to find a devilish smirk on his face.

“Zach I was almost there…why’d you stop?” He doesn’t answer - not at first - he waits until your breathing has calmed and then he plunges into you again. His pace is a little more rough this time as he grabs your leg, moving it over his hip, giving him a better angle. That familiar heat begins again and just as you're about to reach your peak he pull out: again.

“Zach…baby please! Please let me come?”

He loves watching you beg. Beg for his cock and the pleasure only he can give you. Your skin is flushed and sweaty and your breasts move with each breath and he’s transfixed by you. The way you’re mewling and writhing beneath him sends him into a frenzy.

He plunges back in again and begins to pound into you, his loud grunts and groans filling the room. “So fucking good for me…so tight…fucking love you baby.” You can feel your orgasm building again and you desperately need the release. Your legs lock behind him giving no room to pull out again. The nails on your fingers dig into his back as your eyes close, the pleasure taking over.

“Ngh…I want you to look at me when I’m inside you. Open your eyes. Open them. I wanna see you lose yourself to me.”

Oh fuck! The feel of him inside you, the way he’s hitting that sweet spot over and over and the look in his eyes as he commands you to look at him sends you hurtling over that edge. “Ooh fuck…oh god…”

“Gods not here baby, it’s just me.” You come hard, harder than you ever have before and you can see it in his eyes that he’s about to follow you over that edge. He thrusts once, twice and then he comes giving you his spend as he shudders above you. His hips continue their motion until he’s filled you completely before he finally slumps on top of you.

You both remain like that - trying to calm your racing hearts - until he slowly pulls out of you. An emptiness takes root inside you at the loss of him but he’s quick to clean you both up before laying beside you - pulling you close and wrapping you both in the soft duvet.

“I…I wasn’t too rough was I…I…” Turning around to face him, you can see that the anger his eyes once held, were replaced with guilt. Bringing your hand to his cheek you're quick to reassure him. “Hey, look at me. You weren’t too rough, I promise. I loved it, like I always do. I love you.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“Beats me?” You say with a slight shrug of your shoulders, a teasing smile on your face. He smiles at you then, the hint of mischief in his eyes. “Watch it baby, or I’ll have to put that smart mouth of yours to use.”

“Promises, promises.”

“I’ll show you,” he says as he pushes you onto your back again, the thick length of him already hard. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll be cock dumb for days.”

“Do it! Use me, make me yours.”

“Alright, but just remember - you asked for it.”

Permanent tag list: @lunaserenade @anaaaispunk @maievdenoir @elinedjarin @seasonschange-butpeopledont @alberta-sunrise @dihra-vesa @pintsizemama @athalien @loserrlauraa @thorins-queen-of-erebor @pascal-rascal424 @ikinmahlen @pascalisthepunkest @dindjarinneedsahug @almaeunice @jediknight122 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @colorlesswhispersunknown @stevie75 @rosie-posie08 @hauntedmama @greeneyedblondie44 @prettylilhalforc @giselatropicana @phoenixhalliwell @sherala007 @its--fandom--darling @donnaa @javierpinme @luxmundee @littlemisspascal @hayley-the-comet @ezras-channel-rat @misspearly1 @writer-darling @misspearlssideblog @sara-alonso @loonymagizoologist @harriedandharassed

#pedro pascal #zach wellison x reader #pedro pascal x reader #zach wellison #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #Zach Wellison x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[imtryingmybeskar]

Drabble 14 - Surprise!

I decided to write for Zach in this since he isn't on the list.

Zach Wellison x GN! Reader. No warnings except for homelessness and the discrimination that comes with it. Word count: 766

Weren't birthdays supposed to be enjoyable? Relaxing? And yet there was so much to do. Hair appointment, dry cleaning and medication to pick up, a deposit to make at the bank. Somehow all the errands ended up being on the one day you really didn't want them to be, so you decided to grab a coffee before everything else, reasoning the caffeine would be a help for the day ahead. But there's a hold up. It feels like you've been in this queue forever. The guy in front of you....what's he doing?! Paying in pennies?

You drag your thoughts away from your list of chores and tune back into what's going on at the counter. Pennies and dimes are indeed strewn across it, apparently counted and re-counted by the cashier.

"I'm sorry sir, you're short a dollar and eighteen cents."

The man's voice is low, as if he doesn't want to draw any more attention to himself than he already has. "But...last time I was here-"

"Our prices went up, sir."

And now you can hear and see the situation clearly. The slight sneer and coldness in the cashier's voice. The rips in the man's coat. The dirt around and under his fingernails. The faded, sun bleached camouflage of his army-issued backpack. The man grabs at his money, shoves it back into his pockets, and stalks off without another word.

You buy your coffee and ask the cashier to give you wherever he ordered too, though you hold out little hope that he will still be in the area when you finally emerge from the coffee shop. Hands full, you follow in the direction he went until you come upon a park a couple of minutes later. He is sitting on a bench beside a fountain, bag at his feet and scowling darkly at an extremely tattered book as if it were the one who had offended him.

"Uh...excuse me?" you say as you approach. His head snaps up, eyes boring into you, seeming to size you up completely with just one ferocious look. "I...I hope I'm not intruding but...um...I was behind you in the coffee shop just now and I...I just..." Words failing you in the face of your flustered embarrassment, you hold out the coffee to him.

He glares and it, and then squints at you. "No thanks," he says gruffly. "I don't need charity."

"Oh! It's not...I mean..." But he's already looking back at his book, though his eyes don't seem to be actually moving over the page. "It's not charity," you explain, "its my birthday, and I had some extra money on me and wanted to do something for someone else. But if you don't want it, I can-"

"It's your birthday?" The man looks up at you again, his big brown eyes full of surprise. You nod. "Well, how about that? Its mine too."

"Really?" you smile, "Well then you should definitely take this as well." You place his coffee next to him on the bench and hold out the paper bag containing the slice of chocolate fudge cake you had bought on a whim. Still he hesitates, though you can see the longing in his eyes at the delicious smell coming from the bag. "If its your birthday you deserve a treat," you say softly.

He smiles up at you, suddenly looking a decade younger. "Thank you," he says hoarsely as he accepts the bag and the coffee. "I'll admit its been a while since I had cake."

"Everyone deserves cake on their birthday," you insist. "And," you continue, "A gift too." You rummage in your purse and produce a book from it. "Sorry its not wrapped," you offer with a wry smile.

"Oh no, I couldn't-" he begins.

"Please. I've been carrying it around for three weeks meaning to begin it and I haven't. Someone should read it!"

The man looks down at his feet and swallows thickly. When he looks back up at you the wariness in his gaze has returned, but not in its entirety. "Thank you," he says again, a slight stiffness now in his voice. As if he had forgotten how to be vulnerable around other humans. "Sadly, this has been the best birthday in a couple of years. Not even because of the cake or anything, just because someone's spoken to me like an actual person and not a problem to be moved along." Before you can respond, he puts his coffee cup down again and holds out his hand. "I'm Zach. Nice to meet you."

@thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16 @readsalot73 @littlemisspascal @princessxkenobi @harriedandharassed @pagannightwitch @tentacruels @kirsteng42 @shirks-all-responsibilities

#zach wellison #zach wellison x gn! reader #zach wellison x reader #drabble #drabble challenge

[cyantomatos]

Wheel of Writing - Day 1

Prompt: Dancing around the living room of the first home you’ve bought together. Pairing: Zach Wellison x gn!reader Notes: Why am I doing a whole month of prompts again, why did I do this to myself

The sound of newspaper crunching fills the room as you frantically dig through another box, feeling tears pricking at the backs of your eyes as you mutter to yourself. “I know I put it in here, I was so careful about labelling the boxes, it has to be in here…”

After a moment you give up, finally letting yourself fall the last few inches from where you’re crouched to sit dejectedly on the floor. Today was supposed to be a happy day, moving in to your first house with your husband, but instead it’s been one of the most stressful events you’ve ever experienced.

That’s how Zach finds you, sat on the living room floor of your new house with your head in your hands, shoulders tense as you try desperately to keep the frustrated tears from falling. You’re so focused on calming yourself down you don’t even realize he’s there until his hand lands on your shoulder.

You take a shaky breath, already apologizing before he can even speak. “I’m sorry, I can’t find it, I thought I put it in the box but it’s not there and I don’t know where it is and-”

You cut off as your husbands hands wrap around your wrists, gently prying your hands away from your face. He’s leaning down to where he can see you with your head bowed, a soft, slightly worried smile on his face. “Can’t find what, honey?”

“The, the rose. The rose from our first date. I wanted it to be the first thing I put up in the house and I put it in this box so I could find it but it’s not there and I don’t know where it is.” The tears finally managed to break through as your last few words wobble out, and you stare at the box in front of you like it’s going to magically produce said rose.

Zach tugs on your wrists, pulling you to your feet. When you continue to stare at the box somewhat resentfully he tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him instead. He places a soft kiss on your forehead, pulling you into a hug. “It’s ok, sweetheart. We’ll find it, just maybe not today. It’s here somewhere.”

You sniffle into his shirt, trying not to think about how you’re staining it with tears. “I just…nothings gone right today, and I wanted this one fucking thing to work out, and I messed it up too.”

Your husband rubs one large hand up and down your back soothingly, dropping another kiss on the top of your head. “You haven’t messed anything up, it’s ok. Moving is stressful, things are bound to go wrong.”

Still determined to blame yourself you lift your head, a frown on your face as you open your mouth to argue further. Zach just holds up a hand, making you pause as his head turns towards your phone. It’s been sitting on a stack of boxes in the corner for almost an hour now, a playlist of your favorite songs going in the background as you sorted boxes and bags. You turn your attention to it too, some of the tension bleeding out of your shoulders as you recognize the song that’s just started.

The song the two of you had danced to for your first dance at your wedding the year before is playing, and the happy irony of that song coming on as you break down over not being able to find the rose makes you let out a little laugh.

Zach looks back at you, a wide grin on his face as Elvis continues to sing in the background. “See? That’s the universe telling you not to worry.”

You bring your arms up, one hand gripping the back of his neck and the other hand sliding into his, mimicking the way you’d danced in his arms at your wedding.  “I suppose it is.”

You’re almost able to forget the stress of the day as he steps back, starting you into the simple dance. Neither of you had been able to learn anything more complicated ahead of the wedding, so you’d settled for simply swaying around the dance floor. In the end you hadn’t been able to look away from your new husband anyway, so it was just as well.

You can’t look away from him now either, all of your frustration at the lost rose melting away, replaced by love for the man spinning you around your new house.

#WoW #Wheel of Writing #Zach Wellison #Zach Wellison x reader #gn!reader

[judgementdaysunshine]

Zach Wellison Masterlist

In progress

#brothers and sisters #zach wellison #brothers and sisters x reader #zach wellison x reader

[multimuseficreblogs]

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𝐩𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥 ❅ all pedro pascal ❅ all pedro smut ❅ all pedro fluff ❅ all pedro angst ❅ all pedro pascal x gn reader ❅ all pedro pascal x male reader ❅ all pedro x plus size reader 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐨 (𝒘𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒃𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒆𝒔) ❅ all marcus moreno ❅ all marcus smut ❅ all marcus fluff ❅ all marcus angst ❅ all marcus x gn reader ❅ all marcus x male reader 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐢𝐤𝐞 (𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕) ❅ all marcus pike ❅ all marcus smut ❅ all marcus fluff ❅ all marcus angst ❅ all marcus x gn reader ❅ all marcus x male reader

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𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 (𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔) ❅ all oberyn martell ❅ all oberyn smut ❅ all oberyn fluff ❅ all oberyn angst ❅ all oberyn x gn!reader ❅ all oberyn x male!reader 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐫 (𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒍) ❅ all pero tovar ❅ all pero smut ❅ all pero fluff ❅ all pero angst ❅ all pero x gn reader 𝐭𝐢𝐦 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝 (𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏) ❅ all tim rockford ❅ all tim smut ❅ all tim fluff ❅ all tim angst ❅ all tim x male reader 𝐳𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 (𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔 + 𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔) ❅ all zach wellison ❅ all zach smut ❅ all zach fluff ❅ all zach angst

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[munsonownsmyass]

Sending you Frank jumping out a cake, that's red frosting he's covered in, to celebrate your almost birthday.

Can I request Zach Wellison with the roommates to lovers prompt 'One of them is scared of horror movies, so they end up sitting close to the other one in result.'?

Oh, what a treat it would be to have Frank jump out of a cake 🥵❤️

I have to thank you, Liv, for sending me a request for Zach. I've wanted to write for him for years. And now I did. A little short, maybe, but I did it.

I hope you'll like it, hun ❤️

Movie night

#lilys birthday bash #zach wellison fanfiction #zach wellison x reader #zach wellison

[absurdthirst]

Coming Home {Zach Wellison x F!Reader}

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Mentions of homelessness, pride, anxiety

Comments: Coming back home after your business trip leads to discovering Zach feels more at home and has some surprising news for you.

**I know it's been ten thousand years since I have updated this series! I'm so sorry. Between writer's block and other things irl and fandom it was pushed aside but Zach and Reader still live in my thoughts.

A/N: Chapter 10 of A Room With a View Series

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

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

It’s only been three days but you don’t know what to expect when you come home. Not that you have any worries about your apartment, more that you are hoping that you don’t find Zach a worried ball of anxiety. Halfway expecting him to be sitting on the couch if not outside the door as he waits for you. 

Zach has…issues with feeling as if the apartment you share is his home as well. It worries you sometimes, the way that he clings to the notion that he has to pay his way. How determined or sensitive he is about money. 

There have been times that you have thought about offering to help him find a therapist. You know he has hang ups and issues, not just from being homeless for so long but also his time in the military. Wanting him to work out his feelings and maybe focus them in a positive way. The same way you realized you needed to start seeing a therapist after your relationship with Scott. You haven’t brought it up yet, maybe after you've been home for a while. 

Your bag is heavier, plenty of conference swag and you had admittedly picked up some stuff that when you saw it, you had immediately thought of Zach. Especially the tool kit that had been monogrammed with your company’s logo on it. They would put their name on anything and everything. Extra t-shirts and a very lovely appointment book. Hopefully he would use those things for the handyman venture you hope he starts. 

Your keys are in your hand, the relief of just seeing your apartment door almost palpable. Relieved that you don’t see Zach sitting on the floor outside, you smell a delicious waft of food coming from one of the units that makes your mouth water. The airport food is never an option unless you are desperate and you hadn’t been that hungry when you were waiting on your connecting flight. Now, smelling that - you’re famished. 

The second you get your key in the door, the knob twists and flings open. “Hey! You’re home!” Zach’s grin is wide and instantly yours matches. 

You are instantly swept up in a hug that takes you by surprise, both at the ferocity of the hug and the excitement that had been in his voice when he had greeted you. It makes your stomach twist in the best way and your own arms easily hug him tight. “I’m home.” You agree, realizing that the smells that made you drool are coming from your apartment. “Oh god, you’re cooking.” You moan slightly. 

Zach pulls away, smiling at you sheepishly, cheeks noticeably ruddier than they were when he opened the door. “I was hoping you would be home soon.” He admits, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck before he seemingly remembers himself and practically jumps forward to take the bag that had been abandoned in your greeting. “So I was making lasagna. Homemade, not the boxed stuff.” 

Suitably impressed, you tilt your head and give him a grateful smile. “I am starving and my mouth started watering when I got off the elevator.” You promise him, seeing the table already set and you smile at the sight of wine glasses set out with a bottle of your favorite. Odd, you swear you had drunk the last bottle with him before you had left. 

Zach hums happily and there’s a bounce to his stance while he drags your bag down the hall towards your bedroom. “Good, I’ve spent all day on it.” He reports over his shoulder as you trail along uselessly behind him. Desperate to get out of the ‘professional’ attire and into something along the same speed as what Zach is wearing, jeans and a t-shirt. Although you want to wear leggings. 

“It smells like it.” Of course the house is clean, you expected nothing else from him. Almost obsessive in making sure everything is in its place, you wonder if it’s a tic from the years of homelessness or the military. Perhaps a mixture of both. “I can’t wait to try it.”

“I know you’re gonna be mad…”

Your stomach sinks and the icy dread of incoming bad news floods through your body. When Scott would always try to play something off he would say those words. Normally followed up by ‘you’re being dramatic’ or ‘it’s not a big deal’. You tense slightly and try to plaster a smile on your face. 

When Zach stops, setting the bag near your closet door, he must see the dread that you haven’t managed to cover up quite yet. “What’s wrong? What did I do?” He asks, shoulders starting to creep up as he shoves his hands in his pockets. 

“I- no, nothing.” You shake your head and wave off his concern as you toss your bag on the bed and turn back to him. “What am I going to be mad about?” 

“Oh, uh-“ Zach looks sheepish and you wonder if something broke while you were gone. No, Zach would be in full panic mode trying to explain if that were the case. “I bought dinner tonight for us using the money that I’ve been paid.” He explains quickly, making the shoulders that are starting to pull up around your own ears slowly lower. 

It’s almost on the tip of your tongue to protest, to tell him that he should have saved the money for himself but the gleam in his eyes makes you stop short. Pride. Not the battered chip on his shoulder that he had held onto for so long that would make him slap away any friendly helping hand. This is the pride of accomplishment. The pride that he has provided something for you and himself. 

Instead of protesting, your face blooms into a wide smile, knowing how proud he is of the fact that he has bought the ingredients to make this meal from money that he’s earned. It’s a step towards regaining lost and trampled on confidence. “Then I’m glad my flight didn’t get delayed.” You hum, reaching out and touching his shoulder. “Let me get out of these work clothes and maybe we can drink some of that wine I saw out?” 

God, you love that slow, wide grin. The happiness that is practically shining on his face as he nods quickly, almost hopping back and whirling around as he reaches for the door knob. “I’ll get it open!” He promises as he closes the door behind him. 

You wonder what happened while you were gone, what caused this seismic shift in his attitude. Was it really just the pay from the handyman work that was putting this pep in his step? Or had something else happened to make him glow like a neon light? Those are the things you ponder on while you change out of the stiff clothes meant for a business meeting and exchange them for worn soft leggings and a t-shirt. Keeping your feet bare so you can wiggle your toes, you trot down the hall feeling relaxed and excited for the meal but mostly the company. 

The trip had been good for you, allowing you to come to a conclusion you had been avoiding for a while. You are interested in Zach. Not in a roommate kind of way, but because you were surrounded by charming, socially engaging men at the conference - and all you wanted to do was curl up on your couch with Zach. At first, you thought it was because one of them reminded you of Scott, but then the thought quickly fled when you realized you were bored. 

They bored you. Egotistical and self-centered, they wanted to talk about themselves. How their 401ks were doing or how the latest trending stock was going to make them a killing come the next opening bell. They didn’t listen, they didn’t ask questions. They ran their mouths for hours without saying anything of substance. 

You had almost sent Zach a text over a dozen times, but ended up closing out the messages. Not wanting him to think that you were worried about him being alone at the apartment or checking up on him. He wouldn’t have believed you if you had told him the truth. You would rather talk to him about the weather than you would the men who had come up to you to chat and network. 

Zach is hustling around the kitchen as you walk out, making you smile again at how happy he looks. You idly wonder how much he was paid, but you won’t ask, never wanting him to think that you are worried about him suddenly starting to pay for expenses and feel pressured. You’ve come to know and anticipate how he’s going to react and it hadn’t escaped your attention that the hundred dollars was still sitting in the entryway bowl where you had left it. You had honestly anticipated it, but it made you feel better to leave him with an emergency slush fund. 

“Let me pour that wine for you.” Zach slaps a dish rag over his shoulder and moves over to the wine where he had obviously uncorked it, letting it breath for a few minutes before he picks up one of the glasses and starts to pour. It’s not an expensive bottle, the brand you drink isn’t pretentious but it is delicious, and it’s going to be even sweeter because you know how much thought he has put into this. 

“Thank you.” His own glass comes next, carefully poured a little lighter than yours. It’s something that you notice him doing on things you love. He will let you have more, a touching gesture for someone who is rebuilding what he has. A glimpse at how thoughtful Zach Wellison can be. When the bottle is back on the counter, you lift your glass slightly. “To making it home from that conference.” You joke. 

Zach chuckles, a warm and soft thing that makes your entire body seem to respond. To melt like wax in a warmer and you want to hear just that pitch of joy from him every single day. “To me remembering what wine you like.” So you had finished the last bottle. Your lips pull wide as you tap the rim of your glass with his and take a sip of the deliciously tart wine. 

It doesn’t take long for the oven time to go off, making him hurriedly put down his glass and go into what you secretly called ‘server’ mode. He had to have worked in a restaurant at least in high school from the way he moves around a kitchen, or maybe it’s just the flair from moving in a space he was coming to believe is his own. Either way, you are shooed towards the table with a disappointed look from him. Like he is disappointed you offer to help, but you take the hint that this is a night where he wants to cater to you. 

Crusty garlic bread is warm, obviously not the frozen stuff but you wouldn’t complain if it was. Soon a heaping square of lasagna is dished up in front of you and Zach is also sitting, his eyes roaming over the table excitedly, making sure that he’s forgotten nothing and it’s instinct to reach for his hand. “Everything looks wonderful.” You gush, making his neck flush slightly, although he doesn’t duck his head down. Instead, he squeezes your fingers and beams. 

“Dig in.” He lets go of your hand and picks up his fork. “It’s a recipe that I found that seemed like it was going to be good.” 

It is. Your moan and rolling of your eyes isn’t just for show. The happy little squiggle in your seat, something that Zach teasingly calls your ‘happy dance’ comes out and you notice that he is watching your reaction. His eyes seemingly softer and his entire aura proud as you dig into the meal. 

“So-” when you finally can speak without your mouth being full of decadent pasta, cheese and sauce, you look over at him again. “Have fun while I was gone?” 

Zach chews his own bite and swallows, rolling his head around his shoulders for a moment before he answers. “Yes and no.” He admits, frowning slightly. “Scott dropped by. But before you get upset-” he rushes out when your face drops. “He left and I don’t think he’s going to come back. He was drunk.” 

You should have known. The heavy knot that had suddenly dropped into your stomach slowly unravels. Obviously it hadn’t been a confrontation, otherwise you know Zach would have called or texted immediately. Still, it makes your eyes flicker towards the door uneasily. “Okaaaaay.” 

“I’ve been thinking about it.” Zach continues on. “Want to change the locks on the door. Or rekey them. He was beating on it when I got home, but it never hurts.” 

You probably should have done that when Scott left, but you had felt safe with Zach here. Instantly, you nod. “Absolutely. Yes. Tomorrow.” 

Zach nods, probably anticipating that being your answer and he looks happy about it. That makes you relax even more, knowing that you will have a new lock, new keys - things that Scott couldn’t have made copies of. “So, you know how you told me that if I needed anything, you would help me?” 

That has your attention. Your eyes find his again and you don’t see anything but hope and maybe anticipation. “Of course.” You smile. “Anything.” 

“Will you help me design some business cards?” Zach asks, shrugging slightly. “I’ve been thinking about checking out the pricing of some tools from the pawn shops. Adding to what you are letting me use. If you don’t mind.” 

You want to roll your eyes at how ridiculous that comment is coming out of his mouth, but you don’t. You refuse to belittle the insecurities that he still holds on to, or pop up. It’s not healthy and you understand trauma response more than you wished you did, so instead of reacting negatively, you bobble your head. “Absolutely! That’s a great idea.” 

There must have been some slight anticipation of rejection on his part because his sigh is audible and he slumps back in his seat with a grin. “Yeah? Great! I’m just- Mr. B on the 2nd floor wants to install a garbage disposal, his apparently quit last year and the Clarks just told me that they have a couple of things for me if I have time and I don’t want to have to run to the store every time I’m working on a new project.” 

You sit back and listen to him plan, ramble really and the utter sense of joy that seems to be filling him as he plots makes you grin. “Yes. All of it, yes.” You agree when he finally comes up for air and you swear that you are about to cry. “Why don’t we work on the business cards tonight?” You offer, making him shake his head. 

“You just came home.” He argues. “You should just sit on the couch tonight. We can worry about it tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow then.” Agreeing quickly, you wonder if Zach realizes the changes that have occurred while you’ve been gone. When he first moved in, he would have been insisting on getting the ball rolling right away. Afraid of taking advantage or overstepping somehow. Coming home, you’ve found that Zach has a new frame of mind and somehow that makes him even sexier than before. 

#pedro pascal #zach wellison #zach wellison x you #zach wellison x f!reader #zach wellison x reader #zach wellison imagine #zach wellison fanfic #zach wellison fic #zach wellison brothers & sisters #a room with a view series

[bluestar22x]

Finding Eden Masterlist

Series Summary: In another universe you and Zach meet after a nuclear war leads to worldwide chaos. You unite on a dangerous journey through the wilds of North America to find Eden, a safe haven from the conflict and your only hope for a brighter future.

Pairing: Zach Wellison x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Violence, attempted sexual assault, fowl language, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, mentions of PTSD, some political talk at the beginning (just setting why the apocalypse happened)

Author's Note: I should not be starting another series, but this one got me today. This is slightly inspired by the Adrift With You series by @morallyinept, the movie The Mountain Between Us, and the current state of politics in the US (it sets up the background - politics are NOT what this fic is about - it's about survival and love). I picked Zach for this because like Frankie he got some survival training in the military and I wanted to be different.

xxx

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 - Coming Soon

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The End Of Everything By Jill Andrews (vibes with the Prologue)

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Main Masterlist

#Zach Wellison #Brothers & Sisters #Zach Wellison Fanfic #Zach Wellison Fanfic (Mine) #Brothers & Sisters Fanfic #X Reader #Fanfic AU #Fanfiction #Mine #Pedro Pascal Characters #Finding Eden Series

[wardenparker]

A Second Chance at Life

Part 3 of A Second Chance at Love

Jack Daniels x female reader Zach Wellison x female OC Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+   Word Count: 22.7k Warnings: Mentions of: homelessness, hunger, discrimination, human trafficking, past military service, classicism. Cursing, alcohol/food, awkward flirting, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, just a touch of a praise kink.  Summary: Junior returns to Statesman after a mission with a civilian in tow. Ready to go to bat to Ginger to get Zach a place as a Statesman agent, it shouldn’t be surprising that the whole Daniels family is ready to adopt the young man as well. Especially Jack and his beloved wife’s youngest and most mischievous daughter. ✨This piece can absolutely be read as a stand alone!✨ Notes: Set 23 years after the original ‘A Second Chance at Love’, this part 3 is a celebration of TWO YEARS worth of writing collaborations between myself and absurdthirst. Keri is a divine angel of inspiration and a true friend and I truly don’t know what I would do without her. Thank you for being there through thick, thin, and everything in between. I would not be who I am without the friendship and support you’ve shown me over the last two years. 🧡🧡

Part 1 ~ Part 2

"Jack!" When the alert on your watch goes off letting you know that the Statesman jet is about to touch down, you fully abandon the tray of chips, dips, and appetizers that you were putting together on the kitchen counter and go to poke your head out onto the back deck where Jack is sitting with a glass of Statesman Reserve and a book. "Put the burgers on the grill, honey. I'm going to go pick up Junior from the jet and Janey should be over with the other kids soon."

Anytime Junior comes home from a mission, it's cause for celebration. The whole family descends on the big ranch house and a mountain of cheeseburgers gets demolished to welcome him back again. Your twin girls are grown now, beautiful young women in their own right who dote on and challenge their brother in equal measure, and Junior and Janey's three kids are finding their own footing in the world. The family you thought you had lost for such a long time has materialized around you and become something worthy of gratitude, and you have never taken a day for granted.

Retirement has its own set of challenges, just like getting old does. Groaning, his joints protest slightly as he sets the book down and rocks himself forward to push up out of the chair. “Yes ma’am.” He grunts, tossing you a craggy grin that isn’t quite as lecherous as it might have been about ten years before, but Jack Daniels is still a man who is besotted with his wife. “As long as you give me a kiss before you go.”

"Well, of course," you roll your eyes at him like he's crazy for even asking, but Jack hasn't taken a day for granted either. He still makes sure to show and tell you just how much he loves you every single day. Stepping out onto the deck, you wrap him up in a hug and inhale the familiar scent of his cologne with a grin before tipping your head back to kiss him. You move a little faster than he does these days but it's only because you've done a bit less damage to your body over the years – party planning not having been nearly as physical a job as being a secret agent. "I love you, sweetheart."

“I love you too, darlin’.” Jack promises, the kiss more tender than passionate, but the bone deep resignation of love carries through the simple gesture. “I’m throwin’ some extras on since the grandkids seem to be eatin’ everything in sight.”

“Tucker is trying to bulk up for senior year.” The way it makes you grin is the picture of grandmotherly indulgence. Your youngest grandchild - Junior and Janey’s younger son Tucker - had taken after his older brother in every way. Miles started playing football in middle school, so Tucker did also. Of course, now Miles is working on his medical degree and Tucker is about to start his senior year of high school. Time flies.

“Sounds like Tucker.” Jack shakes his head and pats your ass as you turn, pulling out of his arms. “I’ll even throw on a few of those veggie burgers on the grill for Sam.”

“I put two on a separate tray, and her vegan cheese.” Though the twins were born barely two minutes apart and have been basically inseparable their whole lives, Sam and Riley have grown into very individual women. Sam has joined the front of the Statesman Operation as a distiller, and recently jumped from simple vegetarianism into veganism in solidarity with her wife. So far the hardest transitions for her are actually for her family, and not for her at all. “You’re a good father, Jack. You know that.”

“Try to be.” Jack grins, thinking about the three children that he is damned proud to be called their father. “Never thought I’d ever be able to say that a few years ago.” He reminds you. “Gotta prove myself, to myself.”

“You’re a damn good daddy and a damn good granddaddy, too.” You pause for one more kiss to his cheek before pulling away again. “I gotta go get Junior. Don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.”

Jack chuckles and nods. “I won’t. You just now got it decorated the way you like it.” You are always redecorating or changing something and he loves it.

“It only took me twenty-three years.” Tossing him a cheeky grin, you head for the front door and grab your purse to go pick Junior up from the airstrip.

He knows why. For a long time, you still expected a knock to come. A phone call to tear you away from the life you had with him. Changing things up meant you could focus on a goal, a reminder you were still here. Jack hums, turning on the speakers and playing some music as he fires up the grill and moseys into the house to get the burgers.

******

“We should be on the ground in five minutes.” Junior checks his watch, forcing himself to stop pacing and down the rest of his drink so he can sit for the jet’s descent. He hasn’t technically broken any rules, having gotten the all-clear from Ginger Ale to go ahead and bring a civilian back to Statesman, but the knot in his stomach says that not everyone is going to like it. This man, though? This man saved his life. With astonishing skill, no less, and then turned out to be a military veteran with nowhere to turn. Jack Daniels Jr. has made plenty of sacrifices for his work or for his family, but he has never left someone helpless when he could be their helping hand. His mother taught him better than that.

Zach looks up at the man who has insisted that he come back with him to Kentucky, of all places. He can tell that he’s nervous. “Look, I can just— leave.” Zach offers, drying his hands on his borrowed jeans and shrugging. The streets of Kentucky can’t be too different from where he was. “You already bought me dinner.” All for picking up a weapon and pulling a trigger. It had been instinct. Seeing someone running through the park that was being chase by a group of armed men, he had leapt into action when one of the rifles had been dropped. Picking it up, aiming and pulling the trigger without a second thought.

"No, no, no." The Statesman agent shakes his head, telling himself to relax as he sits down across from the ex-Marine. His knee pops a little but that's a small complaint for a man old enough to have a grown daughter. "The thing is, Zach," he glances at the younger man from under his Stetson. "You've got faster reflexes than most - maybe all - of the recruits I've seen over the years. You said what you did was instinct, but those are some damn impressive instincts."

Zach snorts and shakes his head. “Preservation of self of what the psychologist told me.” Not that he had a lot of help after he got back stateside. Once he had his discharge papers it was ‘good luck and don’t let the door hit you’.

"It takes a strong character to still have a sense of self and not dissolve into apathy during hard times." He had come close to it himself, as a teenager in Witness Protection, but he had been lucky enough to have his mother to think about when he couldn't see to taking care of himself. Junior shifts in his seat, rubbing his palms together and looking straight ahead at the young man in front of him. "I'd like to offer you a job. Not one specific one, but Statesman is a big operation and there are a lot of different opportunities for someone like you." Does he have one specific job in mind? Of course. But being an agent isn't for everyone, and more than anything he just wants to help this man who saved his life.

“Why?” Zach’s suspicions are caused by the nearly three years he’s spent on the streets. Almost thirty years old and the only thing to his name is what is in his pack. Since leaving the military, not one damn person has offered him anything more than platitudes. “You don’t owe me anything.”

"I owe you my life," Junior tells him honestly. "But I'm afraid that would be a pretty shitty life to hand to you, all things considered. And my mama taught me not to give used gifts." He shrugs slightly, feeling the jet start to descend. "Military vets get dealt a raw fucking, deal, Zach. Pardon my language. You deserve to have a life you can be proud of."

Zach clenches his jaw, not answering that. It was true and it stung. He had gotten a raw deal, but he also knows that he’s too damn proud for charity. “You never told me what the hell got you into that situation.”

"My work." He has to stay intentionally vague until he can bring Zach to meet Ginger, and he knows that won't happen until after dinner. Dinner is mandatory. Even with nearly half his life spent in Kentucky with his father, he still never misses a family meal for anything short of a mission. "The man you shot would absolutely have tried to kill me if he'd gotten a hand on me. Unfortunately not the first time a man's tried that, but that's the life I chose."

The other man can’t help but snort at that. “Well, it looks like you get paid better than the military.” He says, looking around the sleek jet. “Swear I’ve heard of Statesman before.”

"Definitely get paid better than the military." Junior chuckles at that, topping his hat back. "Statesman is whiskey. Best sour mash in the world, bar none." It's so much more than that, but he can save that tidbit of information for later.

“And whiskey equals guns….” it’s not a question, because Zach feels like Jack won’t answer it. But something else is going on. “I’m not being kidnapped and forced to have genetic testing performed on me, am I?”

The specificity of the question is what makes Junior bust out laughing, and he shakes his head while he waves off the younger man's concern. "No, but my son is pre-med so if you start hearing a lot of gruesome talk out of him it's just academic curiosity, not a threat."

“Wow.” There’s an undercurrent of bitterness there that can’t be hidden, but it’s not directed towards Jack or his son. It’s more a shot at his own life choices that have obviously turned out so well. “You don’t look old enough to have a kid pre-med.”

"I appreciate that." Never one to deny being proud of his family, Junior straightens his back a little and unconsciously flexes the hand that bears his wedding ring. "Wife and I were young when we got married. Miles is actually the middle child." Like any proud father, he is immediately digging into his pocket for his wallet to show off pictures of his kids. Having gotten the all-clear to bring Zach back to Louisville, he knows that the young vet is going to meet his family anyway. No harm in showing him a photo a few minutes in advance. "There. That's my wife Janey, our oldest Becca, and the two boys are Miles and Tucker."

“You have a beautiful family.” Zach sincerely means that, a little envious at the happy family in the picture. He had always imagined that kind of life for himself, it had just never worked out.

"It isn't always easy, but hard work is worth it." He sits back again and slides his wallet into the pocket of his jacket. "Listen. I don't intend to force anything on you, or to tie you up into something that you're not happy with. That's not the point here." Loyalty at Statesman was earned through respect and hard work, not kidnapping. Although ironically there sometimes was a bit of light relocating involved - like with this flight. "If there isn't a job at Statesman that you think you can be happy with, then you go ahead and say so. I'll have this jet bring you wherever in the world you want to be dropped off and you can pretend you never met me or even heard of Louisville, Kentucky. Just give it a week to decide. Is that a deal?"

Zach looks around the plane again, aware that the shower he had taken an hour earlier was first hot shower he’s had in peace in a long time. The few times he could get a bed at the local shelter, the water was cold and he had worried about people stealing his meager belongings. “Doesn’t look like I have anywhere else to be.” Zach chuckles, lifting the glass of whiskey he hadn’t touched before to his lips. Humming at the taste. “And this is good.”

When the jet touches down a few minutes later, the flight attendants have little to do but bid their passengers a good day and go about tidying up. Junior leads the way, chuckling softly to himself when he steps out onto the mobile stairs and sees the familiar black pickup truck waiting for him. The Bronco died years ago, but that has never stopped his father from having a truck. "Looks like our ride is here," he tells Zach, pointing down to the tarmac just as you pop out of the front seat to wave.

Zach frowns slightly, shuffling his bag over his shoulder and hums. “That’s your mom?” He asks, surprised because you certainly don’t look old enough to be his mother. But he has just seen a picture of Jack’s wife.

"My parents were high school sweethearts. I guess young love sort of runs in the family." With a hearty slap on the shoulder, Junior leads Zach down the stairs toward the truck and quickly shoots a text off to Ginger letting her know that they've landed and will be in to see her as soon as she wants.

"I only asked for a postcard from LA, Junior." Your instinct is to tease a little, knowing that whatever might have caused your son to bring home a civilian and not immediately sweep them off to Ginger's office to be debriefed must be quite a story. Keeping things lighthearted until you know more details is really all you can do considering the classified nature of Junior's work as Agent Absinthe. "Looks like you brought home a friend instead?"

“Mom, this is Zach Wellison.” Junior rests his hand on the other man’s shoulder, feeling the way it rounds slightly in self-consciousness, even though he is wearing a clean set of clothes from Junior’s own bag, with the promise that his own clothes would be cleaned as soon as possible. He introduces Zach to you, telling him your name. “Zach pulled my ass out of the fire, and I decided he would be a damn good fit at Statesman.”

"Well that's a hell of a compliment." The polite thing would be to offer him a handshake, but hearing that this man saved your son's life has you offering him a grateful hug instead – the instinct of a mother still very attached to her son after going through so much together. "Are you hungry, Zach? We've got burgers on the grill at home and all kinds of things to go with them. Family dinner always includes a brave man."

“I don’t want to impose.” The snacks on the plane hadn’t been touched but there’s no mistaking the grumble of his stomach when you mention burgers. It’s been a few days since he’s had a proper meal.

"It's not an imposition at all. I insist." You urge them toward the truck, which has more than enough room for the three of you, and smile when your son tosses his bag in the back without hesitation. "Junior, text your sisters and let them know you're back? I swear getting Sam away from the stills is like pulling teeth these days and your father is making her veggie burgers without a fuss tonight."

“Damn. Junior whistles, sounding impressed. He waggles his brows. “That’s something akin to a miracle.” He tosses Zach a grin. “Dad is a ‘meat is king’ kinda guy. And grillin’ is his specialty. Making veggies burgers hurts his soul.”

The three of you climb into the truck and head for home. It's a short drive with the ranch being just outside of Statesman property, but it's enough for you to note that the civilian your son has brought home with fairly quiet but highly alert. He seems to notice everything but only takes it in without comment. You chat about light things for a little while before refocusing your attention on your visitor. "Are you from California originally, Zach?"

“Yes ma’am.” Zach answers quietly, finding the lush green hills in the background very tranquil. “Sacramento area originally.”

The ma'am catches your attention and you glance over at your son while you drive. "Sacramento's Army and Air Force country, isn't it?" You ask, though you know your casual tone doesn't erase the point of the question.

“I was a Marine.” He snorts, smirking slightly before he remembers there’s nothing to actually be proud about anymore. “Went against tradition.”

"Junior's father was a Navy pilot. Seems like every branch has its ups and downs, but we honour service in our family. Thank you for yours." Though you get the sense from his reaction that he might not be too glad about the decision in hindsight, you would just consider his sacrifices all the more worth recognizing because of it. "How long have you been stateside, if you don't mind my asking?"

“Three years, five months and six days.” Zach supplies easily, having kept up with the time since he had been discharged eight months after he had come back from his final deployment. “Ma’am.”

"Well, you'll still find plenty of 'sir' and 'ma'am' around here and plenty of folks following orders, but Statesman is a lot more laid back than service, thank goodness. And the food is infinitely better."

"Does that mean you made cobbler?" Junior asks, sitting up in his seat like he's suddenly twelve again as he looks over at Zach. "She makes a blueberry and peach cobbler that I swear must have magic in it."

The compliment is sweet, if a little overblown, but you nod as you drive. "I made it with vegan butter for your sister, but don't tell anybody until they start eating it. I want to see if anyone notices."

“You know dad will taste the difference.” Junior laughs and shakes his head. “He swears he can taste the chemicals.”

"He swears up and down," you agree to that, but the smile on your face turns sly. "But I made shrimp and grits last night with vegan butter and oat milk and he had seconds."

Junior grins and looks back at Zach. “My younger sister’s wife is vegan and she just went down the rabbit hole with her. Hence the recipe changes.”

"We just want to make sure Vanessa and Sam are always able to eat with family." Not to mention that your whole family adores Vanessa and were glad to welcome her into the family. Having Sam marry so early was only a minimal surprise. After all, like Junior had told Zach earlier, young love runs in your family.

“You said you had two sisters. Twins?” He asks, wanting to keep everyone straight. “So you have three kids and three grandchildren?” That question is directed towards you.

"Exactly right." Directing the car off the highway toward the ranch, you nod to your son's guest and smile. "We had Junior right after we were married, and his sisters quite a while later. Sam and Riley are around the same age as our grandkids - that's Junior and Janey's three. Actually, the twins and their niece Becca were all born the same year."

Eyes widening in surprise, Zach absorbs the idea that the younger sisters of Junior are younger than he is. “Wow.”

"It's unconventional." You can admit that readily, and you love your big family full of very different and very strong personalities. "But it works for us." In the distance, the top of the ranch house comes into view and you point it out on the tree line. "There's the ranch. We'll be home in no time."

The house is big, and gorgeous. He’s awestruck by the larger house, then the slightly smaller one just a few hundred feet away. “Is it a working ranch?” Zach asks, seeing horses out in pastures. All of this speaks of a lot of money.

"Small, but yes." It makes you shake your head as you turn down the long road that is your driveway. "My husband decided he wanted to retire from his main career on the early side and amp up the ranch work. There's a bit of breeding and sale, but we also have a stable for show horses and teachers that give lessons."

“What did your husband do? After he got out of the Navy?”

Your eyes tick quickly up to the rear-view mirror to see your son subtly shake his head. A civilian answer, then. “He worked for Statesman.” You tell Zach. “From security guard all the way up to CEO.”

“CEO?” No wonder they have a ranch. “That’s impressive.” There’s more that’s not being said, but it’s not his place to ask.

“Things were hard for us in the beginning, so we make sure that we never turn anyone away.” Which is, you suspect, why Zach is here with Junior. The former military man is wearing your son’s clothes, after all. That is a fairly large clue.

Zach’s mouth snaps shut, shame and the anger from that shame nearly making him ask you to stop the truck. He doesn’t want pity and he’ll be damned if he has anyone look down on him for his circumstances.

There are a half dozen cars in the driveway by the main house when you park the truck, all telling you that you’re the last to arrive. A group of three is passing a frisbee in the yard and music is pouring out of hidden speakers, but the real commotion is out in the back deck where your kids and grandkids are digging into appetizers like there’s no tomorrow and the twins are in the middle of a hot debate with their father at the grill. This is as much a family party as it is any regular Sunday - it just so happens that your Sundays usually turn into parties when everybody is able to show up.

Zach climbs out of the pickup, hanging back as if he is hesitant to get near. This is obviously a family function and he doesn’t belong here.

“Come on,” Junior doesn’t let him shrink away, one hand patting his shoulder but not pushing. “There’s always at least a couple of friends at these things.” To prove his point, he directs Zach’s attention to the frisbee players. “That’s my oldest and my youngest. But the third kid is somebody my youngest knows from school. Couldn’t tell you the kid’s name if I tried, but he comes around sometimes. And playing with the dog? That’s one of the guys my wife and daughter work with. I promise I didn’t bring you into the middle of something I thought would be awkward.”

“I don’t know.” Zach huffs. “I don’t want to intrude. Just— point me towards Statesman and I’ll walk and tour the grounds.” He smirks sardonically. “I’m an outdoors specialist after all.”

“We’ll go after dinner,” Junior promises, fully ignoring the joke made at Zach’s own expense. “You want a drink? I don’t know what else is here but there’s always cold beer and good whiskey.”

It’s been so damn long since Zach’s had a cold beer in a relaxed atmosphere. He nearly drools at the thought. “Yeah— I guess a beer will be alright.” He concedes. “Just one.”

“Sure thing.” Leading Zach through the yard behind you, Junior stops to say hi to Janey and the frisbee players, introducing Zach as he goes. There are handshakes and greetings and hugs all around, and you make it up on to the porch to say hello to your girls before they make it halfway through the yard.

“Jay brought home a civilian?” Sam asks quietly, sipping her whiskey as she watches them closely. The girls had long-since picked up on Janey’s nickname for their brother and liked it better than calling him Jack or Junior.

“Yes he did,” you nod and turn to hug Riley next. “And I haven’t gotten the whole story yet, so be nice.”

“We’re always nice, Mom.” Riley contends, although there is a smirk in the corner of her mouth when she says it.

Sam snorts. “Yeah? Since when?” Riley is older by two minutes and she never misses an opportunity to remind Sam of that fact. “Where you nice when you told that old breeder to go choke on a horse co—”

“Okaaaaaaaay.” Riley interrupts, rolling her eyes. “Sometimes I’m nice.” She huffs dramatically. “But that old bastard deserved that.” She contends.

That earns a laugh from you and Jack, who both disliked that particular breeder despite his good work. It was a blessing to be rid of him. “Here,” you hum, handing off two bottles of beer from the cooler to your younger daughter. “Go say hi to your brother.” “Yes ma’am,” she chuckles, accepting the bottles and grabbing the magnetic bottle opener from the side of the grill. “Jaaaaay!” She calls out, trotting down the steps with drinks in hand. "I've got beeeer!"

Turning automatically to the sound of someone shouting, at first Zach is anticipating anger. Until he catches the face of the woman practically racing for him and Junior— not Jack like he had introduced himself as after the firefight. His heart leaps up into his throat and he swears he nearly stops breathing, she’s so pretty and carefree.

"Thanks, Ri." Junior takes both bottles and offers one to Zach, not missing the slightly dumbstruck look on his new acquaintance's face at all. "Riley, this is my new friend Zach." He nods to his sister, miraculously without smirking. "Zach, Riley is the younger of the twins. My baby sister."

"Nice to meet you, Zach." She offers the new arrival her hand brightly, cheery vibrancy making a good cover for how hard her heart starts pounding when he looks up and meets her eyes. His irises are the colour of freshly brewed coffee and his jaw looks like it was cut by a Grecian master sculptor, making Riley practically gulp down a breath. "I—um—it's...I mean...welcome."

“Hi.” Zach takes the beer up to his lips to hide the small smile that Riley managed to bring out. “So your ‘Jay’s’ sister?” He asks before he turns towards the other man. “How many damn names do you have?”

"Three." He shrugs, except the answer is actually four. Agent Absinthe isn't exactly a nickname so much as a title and it's not one used outside of work. "Jack Daniels Junior gives two out of the three. My wife and sisters call me Jay."

“I see.” Zach raises a brow, nodding at the obvious. “So I’m guessing that your father is Jack Senior?”

"Found where all fathers can be found," Riley smirks and points up at the deck where the grill is the center of all activity. "At the grill. But if you guys want any of the salsa or guac that Mom made you better get in there. Tucker brought a friend and teenage boys are bottomless pits."

As much as Zach’s stomach rumbles at the thought of fresh salsa and guacamole, he nods politely and sips his beer. “Thanks.”

"You guys make friends, I'll be right back." Junior glances between his sister and his potential recruit with a twinkle of amusement before he nods and makes off in the direction of the deck.

Shuffling slightly, Zach glances her way, struck again by how pretty she is before he reminds himself there is no way this woman would be interested in him. “So did you grow up here?” He asks, rolling his eyes as soon as it comes out of his mouth. What a dumb fucking question.

Riley catches the way he rolls his eyes at himself and grins, smothering a very uncharacteristic giggle. "That's my room in the top floor corner." She points, indicating the set of windows with linen-colored curtains in it. "Kentucky born and raised, unlike my brother. But my guess is you're not from around here? Since you came home on the jet with Jay, I mean." For some reason the ability to form an original or interesting question has escaped her, but that's probably from the man beside her.

“California.” Zach bobbles his head, glancing up at the window, wondering if it was a nice view out of the window. It must have been to grow up in a place like this.

"I've never been." And why that makes her dig the toe of her boot into the grass is completely beyond her. "It looks pretty in the movies, though. For whatever that's worth, she's definitely not at the top of her game tonight.

“Don’t bother.” Zach huffs. “It might be nice to visit some areas.”

"Not a big fan of California, got it." She nods and shoves one hand into the pocket of her jeans while she takes a sip of her beer. "Well...maybe you'll like Kentucky better?"

“Sorry.” His shoulders roll back, aware he’s sounding like a complete asshole. “The last few years haven’t been the best, so I guess I’m bitter.” That’s putting it mildly, but she wants small talk, not a pity party.

"I'm sorry to hear that." It pulls her attention, though, bringing her eyes up from her toes to find his. "I know we just met, but if you need to vent or whatever..." she shrugs, hearing exactly how strong she's coming on, but there's no chance he would ever be interested in her. It's just being friendly to someone that her older brother brought back from a mission. And it's not like that had happened more than one other time ever.

“You don’t want to hear about it.” Zach huffs. “But thanks. It’s a nice thought.” In what way could this beautiful, rich girl ever commiserate with him? He shrugs. “Junior said to come to Kentucky, and I had nothing better to do. Might not work out. Rarely does.”

"I hate to admit it, but my brother is rarely wrong," she admits, sipping her beer again. "When he has an instinct about a person he's right about ninety-five percent of the time." He had certainly been right about the last guy she'd brought home to meet the family, a fact which stings a little and makes her frown instinctively before she quickly recovers. "Well...come on, Zach from California. Nothing helps smooth over meeting new people like alcohol and food, and we can make both of those things happen."

He hadn’t been going to approach the food by himself, so being dragged over helps. You are standing next to an older version of Jack, so much so that Zach has to blink. Hanging on to his arm and laughing like the picture-perfect family. “You know, being from Kentucky, you don’t have an accent.”

"Yeah, it, uh...it turns out that if you go to a college in New York City to be an engineer and you're a cowboy boot wearing Southern girl with a country accent, nobody takes you seriously." The way Riley rolls her eyes is an obvious cover for a deeper hurt, but she taps her boots on the stairs as they walk up to the food. "I phased it out pretty quickly during freshman year. Not that it eliminated the problem of people assuming girls can't do math, but at least it lessoned the jokes a little."

“Shit. Girls are a shit ton smarter than guys.” Zach snorts then shakes his head. “Sorry about the language.”

"Please, I'm not delicate. Swear all you want." As if to prove it, she scoops up a chip full of guacamole and crunches down with a happy moan of contentment.

An innocent moan over a chip and guac shouldn’t make him think pornographic thoughts. He shouldn’t be thinking about what he could do that would make her make that sound, but it does. He’s lucky that he wasn’t drinking, otherwise he would have choked to death on beer. His cock twitches in extreme interest and he swallows harshly.

“Seriously, try some,” Riley urges. It’s not like she’s oblivious, but she also doesn’t fully process that the hungry look on Zach’s face is more about her and less about the food.

“O-okay.” Zach moves over to grab a chip, anything to take his mind off the way she sounded.

It doesn’t help that she reaches for another chip at the same time, unleashing the sound all over again right before Zach takes a bite. If she had had any idea of how drastic his reaction was, though? Well…she probably would have closed her eyes and tilted her head back just to give him a good visual along with the sound. Zach chokes on the chip, coughing and sputtering as the damn corn chip threatens to go down the wrong pipe. Making him slap himself on the chest as his eyes water and he coughs.

“Oh shit, are you okay?” Riley doesn’t really have a panic button but she cringes internally at his reaction and gives his back a gentle rub after he stops coughing. “No dying on us, okay? Miles is only pre-med, he’s not prepared to save lives just yet.”

“S-sorry.” He manages, coughing again one last time and taking a hasty sip of his beer. “Got caught in my throat.”

“Maybe pointy foods aren’t prime for you,” she jokes, more teasing herself with realizing exactly how broad Zach’s shoulders are than him over the chip thing.

“Maybe.” He can’t help but chuckle, even though he is kicking himself over the faux pas. His shoulder tingles where her hand is resting, making him feel like he’s being shocked.

“Better now?” Resisting the urge to offer him mouth to mouth if he should ever need it, Riley clears her throat as little and grins. “That’s alright. Swallowing is hard,” she teases, managing to continue to look completely innocent.

Zach blows out a breathe, the scandalous comment about what she can swallow on the tip of his tongue but he can’t say that. Surprised that he’s even thinking it. It’s been a long goddamn time since he’s really thought about sex beyond some distant memory.

“Cat got your tongue?” Her eyebrow ticks up in curiosity.

“Apparently.” Zach grunts, rolling his eyes at himself again. “Just, trying to breathe without incident.”

“Right. Sorry.” Riley sags a little against the porch railing, feeling embarrassed. Just because she’s all hot and bothered over him doesn’t mean he is over her – and she has to remember that, since it seems like she’s the only member of the Daniels family born without the flirting gene.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Zach frowns slightly, not liking the way that she seemingly deflates in front of him. “How embarrassing would it be to survive war zones and die by a chip? I could never show my face in hell.”

“War zones?” That seems to perk her ears up, and her head tilts slightly. Curiosity is certainly one thing the Daniels kids have in spades. “You’re a vet?”

“Yeah.” Does everyone in this family like military? “Marines. Or used to be.”

“I almost went Navy,” she admits with her signature shrug. “Like my Dad. Went through a recruiter and everything. It was exciting, I was going to go right out of high school. When I went to get checked out…turns out I had some health issues we had no idea about. So I got to go get made fun of in engineering school instead.”

“I’m sorry.” Not that he believes she needed to be in the military, but it’s always crushing to learn you can’t do what you want. “I’m sure engineering is better than having creaky joints at twenty-five.”

“Everybody ends up where they’re supposed to be eventually, right?” She can sense that maybe she’s hit a sore spot, and Riley picks up her beer again wondering if maybe she just talks way too damn much.

“You could say that.” He was meant to be on the street, fuck, what a depressing thought. She doesn’t know that though, unless Junior has already told her. “So what do you do at Statesman?”

“Research and development.” Her actual work right now is in gadgets and equipment, but for the sake of the distillery’s cover story she could talk about things like the distilling process and the chemical complexities of whiskey. Everyone in the family could. “I do the science and then my twin sister does the actual brewing.”

“Hmmmm.” Zach has his doubts that a brewery is all that is going on. There’s too much that is left unsaid between Junior and his mother. Still, he takes another sip of his beer. “So isn’t this like…drinking the competition?” He asks, titling the bottle up in the air.

“If we brewed beer, sure.” The question makes Riley’s lip curl into an amused grin, though, and she takes the last swig from her own bottle. “Statesman is purely a whiskey operation, so it’s more like…embracing the community.”

"Ohhhhh." He knows that, but it's a way to extend the moment. Enjoying the slightly disjointed conversation.

“We grew up with whiskey like some people grow up with a favorite cereal.” By now it’s obvious that Riley’s most frequent gesture while she talks is to shrug. Almost as if she’s afraid of being taken too seriously or inconveniencing someone with talking too much.

“That’s cool though.” Zach insists. “I know about how to get drunk, even if I haven’t done that for years.”

"We can definitely make that happen, if you want to." After all, it's not like they don't always have an abundance of bottles of different kinds in the house. "Actually the bottle room in the cellar is pretty cool. I just upgraded the atmospheric controls about a month ago so."

“You have a bottle room in your house?” Zach’s eyes blow wide, unable to even think about that kind of luxury. The differences are stark and he’s starting to wonder if he will fit in here just working.

"Yeah, it's super fuckin' cool actually—" She flusters, setting down her empty bottle and motioning to the house. "Do you want to see? It's actually a really cool house. The whole story behind it is cute and everything."

It doesn’t sound like she is bragging, and that’s the only reason why Zach nods. “Okay.” He agrees, looking down to check to make sure there isn’t anything on him that he might dirty up the house with.

"My dad basically built the place himself." Through the porch door and into the kitchen, Riley wipes a little nervous sweat from her palms onto her jeans and shuts the door behind them. No one will even notice they're gone, she reasons, and Jay brought this guy home. So clearly she's just being friendly. Just friendly. Right. That's why she's telling him her parents' love story - because it's totally normal and friendly. "My parents were apart for a long time. Mom got mixed up in a mob thing when she was pregnant with Jay and they were in WITSEC for twenty plus years. Dad built their dream house as a kind of tribute to her. And then when they found each other again they started adding a few more things to the house here and there."

“That’s…wow. So your dad thought they were dead?” It explains the age gap between Junior and the twins. “That’s amazing and horrible.”

"Yeah, it was..." Riley shrugs as she leads him into the house, pointing out little things and pausing in front of a wall of wedding photos in the main hallway. Two photos of her parents, one of her brother and Janey, and then Sam and Vanessa's wedding photo from just last year. She's the only one missing from the wall now, but she pushes away the swimming dread that that thought conjures in her belly. "Dad talks about it like it was such a dark period for him. But they're so perfect together, I can't even imagine what they would be like apart. Either way, um...yeah. That's how the house came to be. The...the cellar is this way."

Zach glances at the photos, the ones of her parents’ wedding were obviously at different times. He had to assume one was the original and another, your father looking older and more distinguished, was a vow renewal of some sort. He’s notices she isn’t in a wedding photo of a bride and groom, having clocked the lack of ring on her hand. Not that it mattered, he just noticed. “Lead the way.”

The cellar is fully furnished, having become a playroom when the twins were little and then a dance studio for the two years they took lessons, then a practice room for their high school rock band after that – at which point it had happily been soundproofed. Now it is a games room with a card table and pool table, a large sofa, and a bar built into one wall that stood next to the glass door of the temperature-controlled bottle room. In most houses this would be a wine cellar, but not the Daniels house. This is a glorified whiskey showroom, with a few other things collected over time. Riley punches a code into the panel on the wall and shoots Zach a grin before the panel chirps and the door hisses to indicate it’s unlocked. “Come on in. It’ll be cool inside at first. Like how walking into an air conditioned building in summer makes you feel freezing for about five minutes. But this lasts about a minute max.”

“Holy shit.” Zach eyes widen at the causal luxury and the comfort that seems to be in the game room. Then the sophistication of the whiskey room. “This is better protected than most state secrets.”

"Thank you." Riley fully beams, her shoulders doing a happy little wiggle as she grins. "I designed the system and built it myself."

“This is what you do?” He’s impressed. Looking around and admiring the security. “This is damn good.”

"My sister makes the booze, and I protect it," she laughs lightly. In actuality, she worked like a cowgirl version of James Bond's Q, developing new tech that would help keep Statesman's agents safe in the field - but that's not exactly the kind of thing she can tell this new arrival. Her status as Agent Grenadine needed to stay tightly under wraps just like her brother's active field agent status and her father's former identity as Agent Whiskey. She'll take the compliment, though, enjoying the way it warms through her as they look around the bottle room together.

“So it’s a family operation.” Family is something that Zach hasn’t had in a long time. The men he called brothers had all drifted off, moved on with their lives while he had been stuck in a horrible rut.

"Sort of." He gets a nod from her as she traces her lingers along the label of a limited release bottle produced the year she was born. "There's a lot more than just our family involved, but yeah. Statesman is definitely tight-knit. Once we let somebody in..." She offers him a half-smile, knowing that Jay never would have brought him back to the house if he didn't like the guy or intend on bringing him into things eventually. "That's sort of it. You're family."

He shuffles slightly, aware that she’s trying to tell him something but he can’t quite believe it. Maybe the mangy stray dog that someone takes mercy on. Not family. “Sounds nice.” He admits quietly.

"So far nobody's run away screaming," Riley jokes, laughing awkwardly under her breath.

“With all the liquor, no one would be able to run a straight line.” Zach jokes, laughing slightly.

Riley snorts, hand barely making it up to her mouth to smother the sound, and ends up stifling a torrent of giggles in the process. All she can visualize is her beautiful, proper, and upstanding niece Becca trying to run away tipsy and it’s the funniest goddamn thing she could possibly imagine. So much so that it basically has her sagging against the wall. “That’s—” She cackles once more, trying to catch her breath. “That’s an excellent visual.”

Zach grins, the sight of her laughing at something he said is probably the most beautiful damn thing he’s ever seen. “You drink enough and tell me you can run straight. We used to drink all night and PT still drunk and it looked like we were bobbing and weaving enemy fire.”

"You paint a very vivid picture, Zach." She straight out giggles again. "And suddenly the idea of drunk PT is making me very glad I didn't end up serving."

“Yeah…” he shuffles again and gives a half grin. “It was interesting. Corporal Ivers said the beer shits motivated you to run faster.”

"I mean, I can definitely see that." From one of the racks built into the walls, Riley pulls a bottle of Statesman Blue Label - a bottle frequently shared in the Daniels family between friends or a family events. Since today sort of seems like both, it's sort of a safe choice to bring upstairs. "Have you ever had Statesman before?" She asks, not realizing her own unconscious attempt at stalling down here.

“No?” Zach admits with a small shrug. “Don’t know if I’ve really seen any besides the commercials. What kinds do you have?”

"We've got a couple of open bottles down here if you want to try?" Out in the main room, there is a bar with partial bottles worth looking through. "The Blue Label is a family favourite, but the Reserve is really good and there's a bottle of 2014 Select out there that was a really good batch. Notes of maple and vanilla with this cedar smokiness that makes me feel like I'm at a campfire in the woods every time."

“I’m really good at camping.” Zach is completely ironic and un-ironic at the same time. Camping was a part of life in the military, but the urban camping was the real adventure.

“Come on, then.” Feeling confident enough in herself to nab his hand to lead Zach out into the main room again, Riley still doesn’t look back at his face as she goes just in case he reacts poorly to the innocently flirtatious move. It’s not like she pinned him against a wall and stuck her tongue down his throat, but little touches can all add up to something fun. And Zach is extremely cute.

Shocked that she is holding his hand, Zach lets her lead him out of the whiskey room. Knowing that if she knew what he was, she would probably turn her nose up at him, he tries to just enjoy the moment. Huffing slightly as she yanks him forward. “I’m hurrying.” He promises, wondering what it is about her that relaxes him.

When he doesn’t pull away from her Riley allows herself a silent thrill and decides to open the decanter of 2014 Select and pour their shots with one hand. “Close your eyes and think of sneaking a flask into summer camp,” she tells him, offering him one of the shot glasses. Whether he chooses to shoot or sip, it’s going to be delicious either way.

“Sláinte” Zach offers, nodding to her before he puts the glass to his lips and tosses his head back. Letting the cooler than room temperature whiskey slide down his throat.

“Cheers.” This is the one time she does look him directly in the eye, remembering Jay teasing her about how you have to look someone in the eye when you drink with them or it’s seven years bad sex.

“That is….” Zach feels the burn, the warm heat sliding down his throat, but the normal wince doesn’t come. “Smooth.” He murmurs, looking at the shot glass and then back to her. “Damned smooth.”

“Isn’t it incredible?” There’s a reason this one is her favorite. It’s the ultimate hug, in Riley’s opinion. “When Sam and I turned twenty-one, we made s’mores shots with it.”

“S’mores shots, huh?” Zach huffs and shakes his head. She made drinks out of this instead of just drinking it? “Sounds fun.”

“We were twenty-one,” Riley shrugs like it was a long time ago when she sees the doubt in his eyes. “Everything had to have chocolate in it in order to be good.”

“Chocolate is good at any age.” Zach argues, although it’s been a long time since he’s had chocolate.

“You’re not wrong.” She smiles a little, feeling silly for all of this — this whole attempt to flirt a little or whatever the hell it is she’s been doing. Riley clears her throat, pouring them each another shot and handing him his glass.

“Thanks.” Zach murmurs, feeling his heart race when their fingers brush. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been offered a drink and a nice evening.”

There’s a moment where she could swear she sees him gulp down a breath, but it’s probably wishful thinking. Just projecting her own attraction onto him. Even so, she flusters at the sentiment. “Any time,” Riley murmurs with a grin. “Any time at all.”

“To—” Zach completely blanks out, the idea of saying something charming and witty completely failing him. He doesn’t flirt, or at least, he hadn’t in a long time. “Not choking to death on a chip.” He manages with a roll of his eyes.

Riley grins, letting out a small giggle at that, and holds up her glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

At least she hadn’t thought he was completely insane. The tips of the shot glasses clink together and Zach feels the way his entire body relaxes as the next shot goes down even smoother than the first. Riley hums at the warmth as it spreads through her limbs, just letting her enjoy the moment for what it is. Brand new attraction is something to relish after all, even if it’s fleeting or one sided. Nothing is more fun than feeling those first tugs of want.

Zach leans in, about to make a comment about how good it feels to relax when the door upstairs opens. Making him stiffen and rocks back to put the proper space between them again. Reminding himself that he’s a guest, one that is a surprise. “Ri? You down here sweetheart?” The voice of her father comes down the stairs as boots descend and Zach can hear the censure in his voice. Asking why she’s alone with the homeless man his son had dragged back to their picture-perfect home. Maybe even wondering if he’s pocketed something valuable down here.

"Just showing Zach the cellar, Dad!" Riley calls back, almost straight out laughing to herself at the timing. Right as Zach was starting to relax and she had discovered that gorgeous dimple in his cheek, her father's tingling Spy Sense had gone off. "Is dinner ready?"

“Yeah everything’s ready.” Jack descends to where he can see his daughter and the newcomer. “Let’s go eat so Junior can take Zach to Ginger.”

"Sure thing." The drawn look of suspicion on his face lightens when Riley doesn't protest or try to stall, setting down her shot glass and nodding toward the stairs for Zach to follow. After all, it's not as though she was really trying to seduce him. She wouldn't have been mad about it, but she wasn't really trying.

Jack watches the boy – man – he’s not a boy. It’s almost visible the way that his guard goes up, nearly making Jack relax slightly. There’s something about him that he wants to nurture, protect. Like he was one of his own kids. Junior told him quietly about the vet saving his skin, how he had been sleeping in the park that Junior had been chased through. His heart was compassionate, but still, where his children are concerned - he’s cautious. “Hope you like burgers.” He offers. “Plus we fried up some bacon and it’s perfect with the missus’ guacamole.”

Riley groans, the vibrating sound of hunger unapologetic as she nabs Zach’s hand again to lead him upstairs. “A bacon guac burger sounds amazing!”

Jack’s brows quirk under his Stetson, but he doesn’t comment on his daughter holding Zach’s hand. “Well, come on then.” He grunts at her. “Get your tail up here before the boys eat all of it.”

******

The meal is as exuberant and good natured as a Daniels family get together always is, with everyone nursing groaningly full stomach by the end. Everybody gets a clean up job to make things go faster, and after Junior and Zach help to clear the table the oldest Daniels boy gives his wife a kiss and promises they’ll be back soon. “C’mon,” he nods to Zach, swiping up his Stetson from where he had been sitting. “We gotta go see a lady about some arrangements for you.”

“You don’t have to go out of the way for me.” The anticipation of a gentle letdown is already hanging in the air and Zach moves towards the bag that is still in the back of the truck. “I can just hitch a ride out of town. The meal was enough.”

“It’s my boss,” Junior explains, always knowing his family would disown him if he just let Zach wander out of Louisville without help. Especially Riley. “She wants to meet you.”

“I didn’t get you into any trouble, did I?” He hadn’t expected the lack of police investigation, or the way that he had nonchalantly told whoever was in his ear about killing people, but he doesn’t want the man to lose his job.

“Not at all. If anything, Ginger’s impressed.” They climb into the truck together and head back toward the highway, bound for Statesman’s main offices. When Ginger Ale had taken over the running of Statesman from Champ ten or so years ago, the only person who was surprised at the offer was Ginger herself. Since then she’s led the agency fearlessly and honorably, giving the whole place a new sense of vibrancy.

Zach highly doubts that, but it’s easier to just go along right now. He can always leave later on when the boss is yelling at him. “Well, that’s something.”

The drive doesn't take long, just a reversal of the route they drove earlier from the airstrip out to the ranch after landing. At this time of night there aren't many people around and the cars in the lot are few, but Junior parks in a spot by the front entrance and grabs his hat again after throwing the gearshift into park. "C'mon," he encourages, as though it's his catchphrase or something. "Top floor. Right in the bottle cap."

“Well that’s a hell of a view.” Zach looks up at the large building that looks exactly like a whiskey bottle. It’s definitely a statement although he’s not quite sure what it says.

The barrel-shaped elevators give him a good chuckle, and by the time Junior is strolling into Ginger's office with a contented smile, he's pretty sure he knows how this is going to go. "Evenin', Ma'am," Junior drawls, waving Zach into the office behind him.

"Jack." Ginger looks up over the rim of her glasses at the younger Jack Daniels before her eyes move over to the more tentative man behind him. "And this would be Corporal Wellison, yes? Shut the door behind you and have a seat, gentlemen.”

Zach is unsure if he should salute the older woman, but he refrains. He’s not in uniform anymore, nor is he a corporal in the Marines. “Ma’am.” He offers politely, wondering if all the woman are just unreasonably beautiful around here. This Ginger looks like she could have modeled, even now.

“I understand I owe you some thanks.” Ginger looks to Zach directly, her steepled fingers peaking under her chin. “Jack here is one of the best men in my operation and I don’t like to think of what I’ll have to do when I don’t have him at hand any longer.”

“I didn’t do anything special.” The small shrug of Zach’s shoulders isn’t to dismiss Ginger, he had just assessed the situation and chose a side. Apparently, he had picked the right one. “Sometimes back up in a firefight is necessary when you’re pinned down.”

“That’s exactly my feeling.” She nods, looking between the two men. For the last hour she’s been absorbing Corporal Wellison’s file and reading through reports from the clean-up team that deployed to LA. A full background check on the former Marine had been very enlightening. “And it a appears that you’re a very good man to have as back up.”

“I was a Marine.” There is a bit of pride in his tone. “We didn’t leave anyone behind on the battlefield.” In real life was another story, but she isn’t interest in that.

"You're a Marine with an exceptional record and impressive marksmanship." She can't deny that, nor would she even under other circumstances. Of course Statesman had active recruitment processes, but sometimes candidates just fell right into their lap. "I understand that circumstances haven't exactly been favourable for you since you returned stateside." Ginger shifts in her large chair, moving his file forward on her desk for him to see. To show him that she's been looking into him, unapologetically. "From what I've heard and what I've read, I'd like to extend an invitation to you. Call it...an application process. Our own version of boot camp, if you will. We have room for two more people on our team here and if you're inclined? I think you'd be an excellent fit."

Zach’s eyes narrow suspiciously. The idea of boot camp had the wheels in his head turning. “Recruited for what exactly?” He asks. “I was told this is a distillery not a Blackwater group.” He looks over at Junior and wonders what the fuck he’s gotten involved with. “I’m not a merc.”

"No, you're not." A smile tugs at the corners of Ginger's lips as she sits back. "You're a gunslinger. Choosing your battles and covering a victim when you see him being pursued in a park," she gestures at Jack, knowing he isn't innocent or a victim in any way but for the purposes of this exercise. "You sound like a cowboy to me. And if you'll sign on the dotted line..." An NDA seems to materialize on the top of her desk as if from nowhere. "I'd like to introduce you to the other side of what Statesman is all about."

Seconds tick by. Probably the longest twenty seconds of his entire life. Another glance at Junior doesn’t reveal anything beyond the man’s desire for him to sign the paper. Then his eyes find Ginger. Watching her carefully and there’s a slight edge of challenge in her gaze. Enough that Zach is leaning forward and taking the pen to scrawl his signature on the line.

A quick glance down at the paper and Ginger's photographic memory are all she needs to know that that signature matches up with the others of his that she'd seen and this young man is indeed who he says he is. Good. She had been right about him being upstanding - most people would think there was no cause to lie about who you are when you have nothing, but she had found that that was exactly when people started to bend their stories to suit their situations. "Statesman is an independence intelligence agency," she explains, pressing a button on her desk that causes control panels and monitors to appear from behind previously mundane panels of wood around her. "And Jack Junior here is one of our finest agents."

He is struck dumb for a moment, eyes wide as he absorbs the way the room shifts and he frowns slightly as a million different questions pop up in his head. “Independent intelligent agency…” He repeats slowly as if he is weighing his words and reconciling them with what he is seeing. “So those men chasing you…” he turns to Junior for a full explanation.

“Were thugs hired by a human trafficking operation.” Junior sits back in his chair, tilting his Stetson back a little so there is no question that he is looking Zach in the eye while he tells him the honest truth. “They didn’t take kindly to my partner and I posing as buyers to get those girls back to their families. I drew the short straw - pulling their firepower away so the others could get to safety.”

“Then I’m glad I picked up that gun.” Zach scowls angrily at the idea of human trafficking. He’s seen a lot of that shit while he was on the streets and there was nothing he could do.

“It’s not always big operations.” Ginger warns him, seeing the righteousness in the young man’s eyes. “Sometimes it’s small. Observation. Or escorting people who have no way to protect themselves. Sometimes it’s intelligence gathering or undercover work.” Clearly proud of her agents, she does tilt her head a little and smile. “But it pays a hell of a lot better than law enforcement does and doesn’t have to answer to whatever yokel is in office at the time. We operate only on what we see as benefitting of our time. And frankly? We’re damn good.”

“And you want me?” He asks, lifting a brow as if he can’t believe it. He can’t. After the military, no one wanted him. He was used up and slightly bitter about that fact.

“I went over your service record and your background check while you were with Agent Absinthe, and on paper you’re a perfect candidate.” A part of that, unfortunately, is his utter lack of family or friend attachments. Not even a job to put his notice in at or an apartment to pack up. But for those unfortunate circumstances, Statesman could offer him a place to live with a steady paycheck and a proverbial family to have his back. “If you go through the training and decide that being a field agent isn’t for you, we have plenty of secure jobs on the ground as well.” Ginger folds her hands in front of her on her desk and smiles - something her predecessor rarely did but she thinks Zach might find comforting. “You can say no, of course. But not everyone gets a second chance at life. I sincerely hope you take us up on it.”

A second chance at life. Zach remembers what Riley had said about her parents. Twenty years without each other, one thinking that the other and the baby were dead. Only to find each other again and pick up where they left off. He wonders if he could get back a little of the man he had been before. The gun hadn’t felt as heavy in his hands the last time he turned one in with the military. It had felt right, even better now that he knew what kind of scum he had dispatched to hell. “Not like I don’t have some free time in my schedule.” He reasons, giving a slight shrug. “Might be interesting to see what kind of training you’re talking about.”

“Hot damn.” Junior laughs out loud, reaching out to slap Zach’s shoulder gleefully. “Didn’t I tell you, Ging? I knew he’d be in for it!”

“Keep it in your pants, Jack,” Ginger chuckles. It’s definitely not the first time she’s said that to a man named Jack Daniels. “Jack can show you to temporary quarters until we get your housing sorted out. There’s a cafeteria on the bottom floor of this building that feeds employees three meals a day for free, and I’ll have a company ID delivered to your room overnight. Both of you report to the training grounds at 0800 tomorrow. Any other questions for now?”

“I—” Zach stops for a moment, gathering his thoughts and then he starts again. “Thank you.” He offers quietly, aware that this invitation did not have to be extended. “Is there anything I need?” He doesn’t have a lot, but maybe his old running shoes he’s been wearing for the last four years will hold up.

“We have some things ready for you in your room to get you through until your first paycheck is cut.” She had a feeling he’d say yes based on how Jack had told the story of their encounter, but she doesn’t really want to overwhelm the young man by letting him know that the room is the extremely comfortable visiting agent’s apartment on the fourth floor, not just a room with a bed. It’s fully furnished and packed with clothes in a variety of sizes so that he’ll be able to find things that fit without having to ask for help. A little dignity, at least until they had him situated in a permanent residence. “Anything in the space you’ll be staying in, is there for you to use.”

“Thank you again.” He’s a little overwhelmed at this point. Barely hanging on to his emotions. “I won’t disappoint you.”

“I don’t expect you will, Zach.” Standing almost in unison, Ginger extends her hand to the young man and can practically feel the vibrations coming off of him. Tomorrow will be a very big day for Zach Wellison, it seems. “I sincerely hope you don’t have an aversion for Stetsons, because we’re going to have you wearing one in no time.”

“Never worn one.” He admits with a grin. “Unless you count when I was two.” There’s a few pictures he had from his childhood, one of them is him in his diaper and a cowboy hat.

"Well, we'll fix that soon enough." She nods when he takes her hand, acknowledging the leap of faith he's taken tonight. Not everyone could do it – they'd deny or lash out or even be upset at the revelation. But she has a good feeling about this man. "0800, gentlemen. I'll let Tequila know to expect you."

Even though it is her office, in the blink of an eye, Ginger has disappeared. Leaving Zach slightly bewildered until he notices the hidden door off to the side. He had been battling the intense emotions and near teared up and she was just…gone. “Now what?” Zach asks Junior.

"I can show you where you'll be staying, if you like." He offers, stepping out from the area surrounding his chair to stretch his legs. "It's an apartment a few floors down. Usually used for visiting agents from the New York office, but that just means it's ready for you now at a moment's notice."

“Are you sure I’m not putting anyone out?” Zach asks. “I thought Ginger said I would be sharing a room?” He doesn’t want any treatment that would have him set apart from everyone else.

“If you’d rather stay on the ranch, that’s fine.” It wouldn’t be the first time that either he or his father had taken in someone to stay for a while, and he knows that there is plenty of room. “Might be less lonesome.”

“There’s no way you have the room at your place, not with three kids.” He would offer to sleep on the sofa, but then people would be tip toeing around him and he didn’t want that either.

"My parents have room at the big house." Out of Ginger's office and back through the hall, Junior presses the call button on the elevator and leans against the wall. Now that Zach has accepted the invitation to stay and try Statesman on for size, he is fully relaxed. "They keep a guest room ready and Mom loves to have visitors, so it wouldn't be imposing." He shrugs nonchalantly. "Dad was a legend when he was a field agent. I'm sure he'd love a chance to bust out some old stories for someone who hasn't heard them a hundred times."

“No wonder your mom was wary about answering questions about his job.” Zach murmurs, understanding now that the entire family is in this business.

"The title of CEO is a cover for senior field agent," Junior explains when the elevator doors open. "There's all kinds of corresponding titles for civilian jobs to agency jobs." He jabs the button for the bottom floor, sure that Zach would prefer to stay at the ranch than alone in the Statesman building. "And, of course, there's some jobs that are just civilian. Like my sister Sam and her wife Vanessa? They really are both distillers."

“But not Riley?” Zach sneaks a glance over at Junior as he asks, trying to be casual about it.

The older man stifles a smirk, keeping his face totally neutral as Zach tries to be stealthy in asking about the woman he spent nearly every second of tonight with. It was abundantly obvious that Riley was attracted to Zach right off the bat, but it seems that the feeling is mutual. "Riley is in Research and Development," he explains, affecting a bored tone. His sister's work has been invaluable, actually. "She's technically an agent, but not a field agent."

He’s slightly relieved, happy she’s not getting chased or shot at. Maybe slightly rooted in that old school belief that women should be kept safe, although he has a hell of a lot of respect for women in authority. “That’s good. She’s a smart lady.”

"You guys seemed to get along pretty well." Junior cracks a grin, but in all honesty he's okay with it. Zach got dealt a shitty hand by life. Not because he made bad choices but because the system failed him. Now, hopefully, a new system could give him a better chance.

Zach immediately rounds his shoulders, aware that he should have kept his distance from Junior’s sister. “You don’t have to worry, man.” He murmurs. “I hear you.” All he can think about is that Junior is warning him off and he can’t mess up this chance.

"Hear me?" The grin disappears from his face, replaced by an expression of worry, wondering if he said something he shouldn't have. If Zach had taken something differently than he meant it. "No, man. No. That's not—" He shakes his head twice as they wait for the elevator to come to a full stop. "She's a grown ass woman. And she obviously likes you a lot. Ri's never been very good at hiding that kind of thing. There's no...warning here, or anything. I wouldn't have left you guys alone together or brought you to meet my family in the first place if I objected to something about you, Zach."

Zach snorts, not believing that. “Yeah, because you want your little sister to be interested in a homeless bum.” The doors to the elevator open and he quickly steps off, angry – mostly at himself – about how this is going.

"As of five minutes ago, you're Statesman." Junior reminds him as they walk to the truck. "Listen, I— I've never been homeless. But I know what it's like to have no sense of your future and the hopelessness of not being able to grasp a real life." He unlocks his pick up and waves Zach in, sighing a little as he shoves his key in the ignition. "Until I was twenty-four, my mother and I were in Witness Protection. Every single thing about my life was a lie. We were relocated five different times because the people after her kept finding us. It was...terrifying. So I know it's not the same, but I also know that you didn't ask for it just like we didn't ask for what happened to us. It can take a while to adjust to something new. Just...I'm asking you to believe that we don't think less of you. Our family knows what it's like to not be able to make your own decisions about life. And it's no one else's business what you were doing before you came to Statesman. No one here comes from the perfect life. No one."

Shame isn’t something that Zach is unfamiliar with, but it’s been a long time since someone made him feel that way because they were being kind. “‘m sorry.” He apologizes quietly. “When you’ve been kicked long enough, you feel like you deserve it. You expect it.”

"I know that feeling." For as much as you ever shielded him growing up, Junior had had plenty of his own battles to fight in every place you had been moved around to. Just because it wasn't exactly the same circumstance as Zach's, didn't mean he couldn't relate. "I don't expect you to turn on a dime and readjust to a new life instantly. That's...that's incredibly unrealistic. Just try to keep an open mind, that's all."

“I’ll try.” Zach tries for a sheepish grin. “Pretty hardheaded sometimes.” He admits with a shrug of his shoulders. “Jarhead is a Marine nickname for a reason.”

"That's fair enough." Junior chuckles as he backs out of the parking spot. "Daniels' are hardheaded and we don't even have an excuse."

He can’t help but snort at that, having experienced it firsthand when dealing with Junior. “I guess it must be in the blood for some.” He murmurs quietly. “Are you sure your folks would be okay with me staying with them? I don’t want to put an agent out of their place. Just give me a sofa or a cot in a back room and I’ll be better than I was.”

“That guest room is sitting empty waiting to be filled,” Junior promises. “I can swear to you the original occupant isn’t coming back for it, since it used to be mine.” Jack had kept the room at the ready for his son for a long time just as a symbol, even after Junior and Janey’s house on the ranch was full of kids. “We can call ‘em from the road if you’d like? So they know to expect you?”

“Just to make sure.” The last thing Zach wants is for there to be some reason you didn’t want him there. Or couldn’t have him. It would just embarrass him even more.

Confident in his plan, the older man uses the truck’s communications panel - a Statesman must-have - to call the ranch, and grins when his father picks up. “Hey Dad,” Junior hums as he drives. “Question for ya.”

“Junior.” Jack’s voice rings out warmly in the speakers. “Shoot. you know I always have time to answer any questions you have.” Since coming back into his life, Jack has made forging and strengthening the relationship between himself and his eldest his priority. Trying to make up for missing the first half of his life.

“It’s not that serious, Pop. I promise.” The younger Jack Daniels chuckles. “Would you and Mom be alright with hosting Zach until Ginger gets his housing squared away? He starts training tomorrow morning.”

“So he accepted?” Jack chuckles, proud of his boy for finding the next wave of talent for Statesman. “Good, good. Of course, we’d be happy to have him here. Your mother needs someone to fuss over beside me.” He’s aware that Zach has to be within earshot and while he’s protective of his girls, he’s aware he can’t meddle in their affairs. You point out what a manwhore he had been when he thought you were gone. It’s not fair for him to coddle her as his last unmarried child.

“That’s what I was thinking you’d say.” Junior grins, flashing Zach a thumbs up. There’s no point in saying an ‘I told you so’ when the outcome is a good one and the concern was only polite. “We’re on our way back to the ranch now. Shouldn’t be more than a couple of days for everything to be set. You know how fast Ginger works.”

“Boy’s welcome to stay as long as he’d like.” Jack assures him, wanting to make sure the message is clear. “You know we always enjoy company and I can get a feel for how trainin’ is goin’, give him a few tips.”

“You mean give him tricks so he can get one up on Tequila?” He laughs softly at his father’s enthusiasm, glad to see that he was exactly right about how this would go. So far, at least. “We’ll see you in about ten minutes. Thanks, Dad.”

When Junior ends the call, Zach exhales audibly, relieved that he had been right. It didn’t sound like Jack was wary, and that did wonders to relieve his anxiety. After being invisible for so long, it seems almost jarring to be so in the spotlight. “So, I take it he knew what you wanted to do with me?” He asks, wondering if Junior brought home people all the time.

“Every once in a while, one of us will get a feeling about someone.” It wasn’t terribly common, meaning that whenever it happened the recruit in question tended to get a bit more attention and training, but it certainly wasn’t unheard of. “The agent in charge of training – Tequila? That’s how he came in. Guy used to be a rodeo clown back in the day.”

“A…rodeo clown…” Zach says slowly, grinning slightly at the mental image. “That’s one hell of a job. I’ve never even been to a rodeo.”

“Oh, we’ll fix that soon enough.” The grin that Junior flashes him is mischievous. “Riley loves the rodeo. I’m sure she’d take you.”

“I’m pretty much assuming everyone in your family is familiar with horses or ranch life.” Zach had been a city kid and it wasn’t like he was riding horses in Iraq and Afghanistan in the middle of a war zone.

“It’s definitely a big part of life. The cowboy thing was never something that I felt attached to before coming here, but it grows on you.” After spending a full half of his life in Louisville with Statesman, Junior had come to view it as a way of life. A set of principles to live by. And though his kids were all growing up in a modern world that seemed to move faster than light, the core of their family was always respect and freedom – two things that Statesman valued as well.

“I’ve never even been around a horse.” Zach admits. “Not unless you count a Great Dane.”

Junior laughs, smacking his hand on the steering wheel as he drives. “They’re damn near pony-sized, I’ll give you that. But horses are beautiful creatures. You should give it a try while you’re at the ranch.”

“I—okay.” Zach nods, aware that this is surreal. Nothing in his entire existence prepared him for cowboy spies, although the westerns he had seen flipping through channels as a child makes him think of a romanticized version of it. A more friendly Bond.

“You’ve been to war, Zach.” Junior shoots him an encouraging smile. “I promise you can manage a horse.”

"Somehow I think a living breathing animal is a little different from the Humvees we rode in." Zach snorts, appreciating the vote of confidence. "Although I could say that one of them did buck me when it flipped with me inside."

“See? You’re already an old pro.” It’s nice to be able to laugh with Zach now, even only hours after meeting him. Earlier today he had been understandably caged. Guarded. And of course – his everyday survival depended on self-reliance in every way. It’s good to see those barriers already cracking under the gentle touch of kindness and good faith. “You’ll be a cowboy in no time.”

“I don’t know about that.” He huffs. “I’ll settle for ‘regularly showered’ for right now.”

******

The rest of the drive passes easily enough, this time with Junior pointing out a few favourite sights and restaurants from the road, and soon enough they’re back at the big house. There’s a lot less bustling activity going on now that most people have gone home for the evening or moved on to nighttime activities, but the kitchen is still brightly lit when Junior opens the front door. “We’re back!” He calls, though the path of light in the house shows exactly where everybody is.

“In the kitchen, sweetie!” Your voice rings out, and laughter from two different people rings out almost immediately.

“They must be playing cards or a board game.” Junior tells Zach, already headed in that direction. “Riley and Mom are Scrabble fiends. Dad prefers poker.”

Nodding, Zach shrugs. “I’ve been a card player during my time in the Marines.” He had never played for anything more than fun, or beers, but he had fond memories of nights in his unit playing while pretending they weren’t in danger.

"Dad will be glad to have another vote for cards." With a clap on the back, Junior strolls into the kitchen and immediately goes to say hello to you and Jack. "Ginger's said yes," he reports with a grin. "Say hello to Statesman's newest recruit."

Jack leans back in his chair and grins at the younger man who looks like he's had his world turned upside down. Hopefully that will be the best damn thing to happen to him. "Pull up a chair, son. We'll get you a glass of whiskey and I'll tell you all about some of the missions we've run."

"Told you," Junior laughs, flashing a smirk at Zach.

"You love your stories too," you remind Junior, already hustling to pull up two more chairs at the table. "Like father, like son. Always."

"Bond in a Stetson?" Zach asks as he sits down, glancing over at the older couple.

"That's what I called him the day we found out what it was Jack had been doing." You tell him, patting the back of a chair as Riley disappears down the hallway with a grin on her face. "Cowboy James Bond. It didn't take long for Junior to follow in his father's footsteps. Statesman's been a blessing to our family in every single way."

"Were you recruited from the Navy, sir?" Zach isn't very clear on the timeline for everything, but he wonders if Statesman had been sniffing around military branches for most of their agents or if civilians like Tequila dropped into their laps in equal measure.

"You could say that." Jack's laugh is deep and amused at that, considering the circumstances. "I was recruited from the brig on the verge of a dishonorable discharge. Champ – our old director – he liked a rebel when they had a good cause. But me?" He shakes his head. "I was angry at the world for taking away my sweetheart and little boy. It wasn't a good place for a man to be in. Any man."

"I couldn't even imagine." Zach had been single when he hit rock bottom, he couldn't even fathom what it would have been like to lose a significant other. Especially when pregnant. He might not have survived that, so it speaks to how damn tough Jack Daniels Senior is.

"Junior was twenty-four when Statesman took over our case from the US Marshals." You explain, knowing that your children had already mentioned your time in WITSEC to Zach over the course of the night. "Champ got wind that we were being moved again and stepped in. He sent Jack to pick us up and relocate us here instead."

"And the rest is history." Riley reappears from around the corner with a bottle of Statesman Blue Label in hand and deposits it on the table with a stack of glasses.

"Happy ever after." Zach murmurs, unsure of what that would ever entail for him or if it was even in the cards. He's never really known what he wanted out of life, kind of aimless if he were completely honest with himself.

"Happy ever after." You hum in agreement and lean over to kiss Jack's cheek. "Which we never thought we would get, honestly."

It's probably the most relaxing evening Zach has experienced in a long fucking time. Drinking his fair share of that bottle, he grins as he leans back. His stomach is full because you had insisted that nine o'clock snacks were perfect. Laughing at another story that Jack Senior has told about a time where his ass was in a jam and Tequila, the man who was training him tomorrow, had pulled it out of the fire. "You got them though, right?"

"Statesman agents always get their man." Riley tells him proudly, chin up in the air as she tips back the last of her glass. She may be unsubtly playing on the fact that she, too, is an agent of Statesman, but mostly she's just proud of her father and brother. "Always."

"So don't fuck up." Zach chuckles, shooting you a sheepish look. "Sorry, ma'am." He offers, hating that he had cursed in front of you. You seem like a wonderful woman, but he wants to give you the impression he has manners. He's staying in your house after all.

"No need to apologize for cursing." It earns him a waved hand from you, and a smirk. "We swear up a damn storm in this house. Don't think otherwise." Though you hadn't done it while the kids were young, and generally reserved that vocabulary for when it really counted, that didn't mean you never swore.

Riley laughs and Junior sighs as he leans back. "I should get back to the house. Janey is waiting." He smirks, although it's one of those soft ones that men think that no one else notices when they've been promised sexy times.

"Gross." Riley gripes, swatting at her brother and rolling her eyes heavily even as she snorts a laugh. "Go be domestic and happy or whatever, I guess. I'll retire to my spinster's room and do something dangerous like read a book."

"Can't be readin' now." Jack winks at his daughter and shakes his head. "You're already smarter than everyone, 'cept maybe Ginger."

"Oh no." Another roll of her eyes is fully sarcastic and Riley squeezes her father's shoulder affectionately. "A smart daughter? Whatever will you do with me?"

You just laugh, shaking your head at the two of them and reaching over to pat Riley's hand on her father's shoulder. "Will you show Zach the guest room before you turn in, honey? Show him where everything is?"

"Sure, mama." She bends to hug both of her parents and affectionately nudge Junior's shoulder before turning to Zach. "You ready to turn in, cowboy?"

“I should get some sleep.” Junior had brought Zach’s bag in and told him that everything he needed was in the room. He assumes that means he had let him borrow some more clothes. “I start at eight tomorrow morning.”

"With Tequila, that means more like 8:15. He's not exactly a morning person." You smile, though, and say good night to Zach once more before he follows Riley upstairs.

“So you develop more than just tech for the distillery.” Zach hums. “I thought it was a very impressive system for just whiskey.”

"I would protect that whiskey with my life," Riley tells him with her hand on her heart. "But yes. Agent Grenadine, at your service."

“Agent Grenadine.” He likes that, it’s sweet like she seems to be. A good additive to any cocktail. “I like that.”

"Active field agents are liquors. Ground agents have slightly less pungent names." She giggles at her own joke. "Our boss? Agent Ginger Ale. She was R&D like me before taking over as director."

“Smart. Easy to identify.” Zach absorbs that information. “So that means my trainer is still a field agent?” He asks, wanting to know what to expect tomorrow.

“Tequila still works in the field from time to time, but he mostly trains now.” At the top of the stairs, Riley turned right into a large bathroom with two sinks built into the counter and a bath/shower combo big enough to fit three if the need ever arose. “He’s a good guy. Sense of humor, pretty positive outlook considering the man is a secret agent,” she smirks about that. “He was my brother’s partner for a long time. Sam and I called him Uncle Tequila for years.”

“Sounds like he worked with your dad too.” If he has any questions of why she is bringing him into a bathroom, he doesn’t ask. Just quickly and discreetly ducks his head to sniff himself. It’s been a while since he’s had that shower on the jet, but he should still be okay.

“Towels in the closet, soaps and stuff under the sink.” She says casually before ducking out of the room again and heading down the hall. “Yeah, Dad helped train him. They’re thick as thieves.”

Ahhhh, he’s getting a quick tour. He follows her quickly and chuckles. “So I can expect him to get a progress report on my training.”

“Especially since you’re staying here.” The grin that Riley flashes him is playful, and she stops in front of a bedroom with the door wide open and fresh sheets in the bed. “This is you,” she tells him. “My parents and Sam’s room are on the other side of the landing. But I’m right next door if you need anything.”

“I thought Sam lived off property?” He doesn’t care who is here, it’s not his house, but he just didn’t want to run into anyone on the way to the bathroom or something.

“She does, but she only moved out about two years ago and Dad has a thing about leaving our rooms set up. Jay’s was in tact until I left for college and he hasn’t lived in the big house since he and Janey got married.” Pointing out the window, they can make out the top of the cabin over the tree line across the main property. “The cabin was their wedding present.”

“Wow.” Zach is definitely impressed. “Did he build Sam and her wife a cabin too?”

"Sam moved into Vanessa's house when they got engaged." Riley steps into the room, giving them time to talk some more if they want it. "Their wedding present was their honeymoon...and while they were away he had their backyard redone for them and a pool put in along with fixing up Vanessa's work shed. Dad...tends to go overboard."

Zach lifts a brow and looks around the room that was very obviously set up for a boy in a gorgeous shade of green. “You mean building a house as a tribute isn’t what most people do?”

"I don't know about most people, but it is if you're Jack Daniels." Riley looks out over the property, fidgeting with her hands shoved in her jeans pockets. It's always been the dream – at least for her. To grow up and have her own little cabin with her own partner on the ranch where her tight knit family has grown and prospered. Maybe it's old fashioned, but sometimes old fashioned really isn't a bad thing. The city just wasn't for her. She had tried it and found out that she's just a country girl at heart.

“It’s touching.” Zach doesn’t want her to think he’s insulting the idea. “This is— hell, I’ve not ever been able to dream about a life like this for a long time, but back when I enlisted?” He shrugs and shakes his head, his own eyes finding the same view Riley is looking out at. “All I wanted was to find love and make a family.”

"It's kind of the dream around here." And it's not even something that she is going to be self-conscious about. It's her dream and it's a good one - just because it's not for everyone doesn't make it any less worthy for her. "Definitely what I want. But it's kind of hard when you have to be cagey about what you do for a living."

“Are you not allowed to tell a spouse?” He could see where that would cause issues. It might be a special set of circumstances for you since you had been protected by Statesman.

"We can tell our spouses. There's a clearance level for that." She shrugs slightly. "But it makes dating a little...awkward. Having to lie to someone right off the bat isn't really a great foundation for a relationship."

“I get that.” Zach feels bad for her. “You’ll find someone. You’re way too—” he bites his lip, hating that he had almost said that.

"Too...?" There was almost a compliment there, she's sure of it, and one eyebrow raises at Zach in question.

Zach rolls his eyes at himself. “Pick one. Pretty, smart, funny, loyal, kind.” He almost grumbles it. Sore that he’s meeting a woman he one thousand percent would be interested in when he is at his lowest and receiving a hand out from her family.

Riley flusters, biting her lip to hold back the fairly enormous smile threatening to overtake her face. "You too," she hums, leaning against the windowsill. "Pick one. Any of them. Except maybe sub out handsome for pretty."

Warmth spreads through his stomach and makes it flip pleasantly. “Look, I know—” he breaks off and shakes his head. “You should know your brother literally picked me up off the streets.” He admits quietly. “Yesterday I slept in a fucking park with a metal pipe for protection.”

"I'm sorry to hear that." It makes her swallow a little, not out of fear or concern but out of sympathy. Homelessness is a hell of an issue and she's not blind to how lucky she is to have a comfortable place to live and a well-paying job. "I know that's a big issue for vets coming back from combat, and..." Riley shakes her head slightly. "It doesn't make me think less of you, for the record. I mean, you served your country and you didn't deserve to be dropped on your ass when you came home."

He had a feeling she would pity him, but he shakes his head. “I don’t – I know that you aren’t trying to pity me, but I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, or whatever.” He’s so fucking bad at this. His hand slides out of his jeans to rub the back of his neck. “Just because I think you’re pretty doesn’t mean you have to think anything about me.”

"If you knew what I thought about you, you'd probably kick me out of the room." She admits with a slight cringe. "I'm sorry. I'm really fucking bad at this too, and I always have been. Why do you think I'm the only Daniels still single in a family full of people who tend to find romance very young?"

“Because you deserve better?” Zach shrugs, curiosity piqued now. “What do you think about me?” The worst thing she could think about him that he’s not already thought?

Riley huffs, caught between hoping he wouldn't ask and wondering what he would say if she actually told him. Her eyes drift down to her boots and the rug, not letting herself be so bold as to actually look him in the eyes in this moment. "I think you're about the most handsome man I've ever seen in my life," she admits, shoulders rounding in on themselves. "And it's...it's embarrassing to admit that I feel like I already know you somehow. Like you just feel familiar to me and I don't know why. But Sam said that's how meeting Vanessa felt to her and I can't get it out of my head."

“Are you sure you just don’t want to feel that way?” He won’t dismiss anyone’s feelings but he’s not ever been looked at like that before. “I’ll admit that you’re the first woman I’ve been— that I’ve just wondered about since I got back stateside really.”

"I thought she was bullshitting me." Riley confesses, looking up now even though it's tentative. "How can you know somebody before you've even met them, ya know? But then...I walked up to you and Jay tonight and it felt like the universe was kicking me in the teeth for doubting her. You just..." She sighs, finally looking up all the way to find his eyes. "This is going to sound so ridiculous. But I know that if I hugged you it would feel like coming home."

“It’s— it’s been a long damn time since I’ve had a hug.” Zach admits, pulling his other hand out of his pocket and opening his arms slightly as if to give her permission. “Only one way to find out if I suck at giving them.”

There's only a second of hesitation on her part as Riley tries to figure out if he's teasing her or not, but the look in his eyes is full of sincerity. She stands up straight up, pushing off from the wall to step forward the three strides it takes to reach him. Their arms fold around each other neatly and Riley inhales a ragged breath of surprise that couldn't be faked even by the more award-winning actor. It knocks the wind right out of her, how perfectly they fit together, and with him being several inches taller than her there is such a feeling of comfort and rightness that she could just break right down and cry. Goddamnit. Sam was telling the truth after all. Sometimes you just feel it.

Zach tilts his head, leaning his cheek on the top of her head and closing his eyes with a small sigh. The gesture is just perfect. Comforting and warm, making him relax more than anyone and anything else had tonight.

"You definitely don't suck at hugging," Riley finds herself chuckling softly even at her own reaction, tightening her arms around him just a little bit more.

“That’s good.” He murmurs softly. “I was worried about that.”

"No need to worry." Lifting her head is almost reluctant, but she readjusts against him to just barely look up and ends up nuzzled into his neck with this slight shift of their positions. It's more comfortable than she could have ever possibly thought as she sighs again without thinking.

Zach leans into it again, hesitant to break this wonderfully comforting embrace. Needing it more than he ever realized. A damn earthquake couldn't make her let go now, and Riley stays right where she is happily. Zach is a solid wall of comfort even with everything he's been through, and if she makes him feel half as relaxed as he is making her feel, then it was worth taking this leap of faith.

******

Zach groans, opening the door and shuffling inside. The biometric locks have been updated to include his thumbprint so he can come and go as he pleases, but Zach tries to be considerate. Sore and desperately needing a shower, he feels good about the progress and his footing here at Statesman.

The house is quiet. Only one car was in the driveway when he pulled up in the beat-up sedan that he'd bought off of a repair man's lot with part of his second paycheck. It didn't do much but get from Point A to Point B, but at least it did that. The only car in the driveway besides his right now is Riley's, which points to the elder Daniels' being out for the night. Friday nights are still their date nights after several decades of being together.

“Ri?” Zach closes the door to the house and looks around to see if she is downstairs.

"Down here!" The clacking of billiards balls can be heard and quiet music from the radio float up from the basement games room with the door open. "I've got cold beer!" She offers a second later, as if he needed more incentive to say hello.

“I’m gonna shower and I’ll be right down.” The grin that breaks out is purely in anticipation, he rushes towards the stairs so he can get into the bathroom to clean up. A Friday with Riley, some cold beer and billiards sounds like a perfect beginning to the weekend.

"Okay!" She calls back, not even knowing if he heard her or not. She's got the only pizza place that delivers out to the ranch on speed dial and two different six packs in the cellar refrigerator. If she had maybe known that staying home meant she'd have some time alone with Zach, she isn't trying to make it too obvious.

Being a Marine, he had showering down to less than five minutes. Throwing on some clean jeans and a t-shirt that seems to look better on him than it had on the hanger when he had picked up some new clothes. Smirking slightly as he starts down the stairs. “Need anything from up here?”

"Just some company." There's a smile in Riley's voice when she calls back to him. They've been moving towards things slowly. Small touches, lots of laughter and long talks. Star gazing in the fields, cuddling together watching movies in the living room. Holding hands like preteens. It's been sweet and innocent, and Riley is so deliriously smitten that she can't stop smiling anytime he's around.

“That I can do.” He promises, quickly bouncing down the stairs and smiling when he sees her. It’s been so fucking good. “Although I’m sore as shit.”

"Tequila's been running you pretty hard lately." She goes to the fridge to grab a beer for him and pops the cap off, dropping it into the jar nearby before handing the bottle over. "But that's good. It means he thinks you can take it."

Lifting the bottle in thanks, Zach takes a long swallow. “Yeah I can, but the man is like a machine.” He might be older than Zach, but Tequila can run circles around the former Marine when he wants to. “Said to look at fighting like a dance. Right before he kicked my ass.”

Riley snorts, starting to reset the pool table. "Bet he didn't tell you that he has awards from dance competitions, did he? He's such a fuckin' show off."

“That explains how he flipped me over and managed to not throw my ass on the ground.” Zach grumbles under his breath.

"Rodeo clown and..." This time when Riley laughs, she waggles her eyebrows. "Exotic dancer. Or so the legend says."

“I’d believe it.” He snorts and takes another sip of his beer. “He moves like he’s rolled his hips a few times.”

"Taking notice of his hips, were you?" It just makes her laugh, making even more suggestive faces at him as he pulls a pool cue off the wall.

“Best way to see how he’s going to attack.” Zach rolls his eyes at her playfully. “People who say watch the feet don’t understand you can’t faint where your core rotates.”

“See, this is why I’m not a field agent,” she laughs as she sips her own beer. “You’re talking combat and I just want to make dirty jokes.”

“Nothing wrong with a dirty joke.” The only reason he doesn’t feed into them is because he knows he will be thinking about that with Riley and she’s given zero indication she’s wanting something like that.

“I have never met a man less inclined to a dirty joke.” And it’s kind of a shame, from her point of view at least. These couple of weeks have been very sweet between them but she definitely has a raunchier sense of humor that she keeps in check around him. Originally it was just so that he wouldn’t feel like she was coming on to him constantly, but then it seemed like he just didn’t like dirty jokes at all.

Zach’s brow wings up and he pins her with a confused look. “What makes you say that?” He asks, slightly insulted by that idea. He had a twisted sense of humor, he’s just been trying to be respectful, still aware of stereotypes of people who were homeless.

"Well...I don't know..." she mumbles, suddenly feeling sheepish. "I normally have a pretty decent sense of humor but you never responded to any dirty joke in the beginning so I just stopped going for them. It seemed...less awkward? Although now it's very awkward."

“I’ve been trying not to make you—” Zach huffs at himself. “I didn’t want to push if you weren’t— if it wasn’t to that point yet.” His own tone is sheepish. “Wanted you to know I have manners and know how to treat a lady.”

The way she huffs at both of them and shakes her head, it's clear that she's trying not to laugh at the irony. They were both trying so hard not to make each other uncomfortable that it led to an awkward conversation instead. "The first night you were here," Riley leans back against the pool table and sighs in resignation. "You let me in just a little bit. To hug you? That was already the third time I wanted to kiss you."

There hasn’t been a night where he hadn’t wanted to kiss her, but he had always felt like Riley should make that move. “I wanted— I didn’t deserve to— but I wanted to kiss you too. I want to kiss you now. Hell—” he chuckles and shakes his head. “I want to do a lot more than kiss you.”

When Riley laughs this time it's almost pained, like the irony of the situation is just a knife in her side by now. "Do you know how many times I've had to stop myself from coincidentally being in the shower or changing with my door half open or any other horny bullshit on Friday nights when it's just us at home? Just to give you the opening?"

“I wouldn’t have taken it.” Zach can admit that to her, to himself. “Because I don’t want you to believe I don’t respect you. Or just want to get off.”

"What about now?" Now that he knows she wants him, surely that changes things? Or at least she desperately hopes that it does, because she's been aching to do more than hold his hand for weeks.

He sets the cue stick down and steps towards Riley, his eyes fixed on hers. “That depends on what you want.” He murmurs, edging closer again. “All depends on you.”

"Me?" The smirk growing across her face belies the way she squirms, backed up against the table as he takes a step closer and moves into her space. If he only knew how many times she had imagined this. "I respect the hell out of you." Riley swallows a laugh. "But I also want to know what you look like when you cum."

“Probably a mess.” Zach chuckles, cock twitching at the idea. “Sweaty and satisfied, nearly weak from cumming so hard.” He shrugs one shoulder. “It’s been a while since I’ve had something other than my hand.”

"You're not making it sound less appealing, ya know." If anything, he's making that weeks-old ache between her thighs even worse. Riley has seen him sweaty and disheveled from training a dozen times or more and each time has ended up with her hand between her thighs in bed that night.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought of you while I was showering?” He confesses, reaching out and brushing his fingers over her hip before settling his hand there. Still moving slow, but his gaze is hungry, his voice lust rough.

"About half as many times as I've thought about you with my fingers buried in my pussy?" With no real reason to be subtle about it, and her pulse going about a thousand miles an hour, Riley throws caution to the wind and tangles her hand in Zach's shirt before leading him into the space between her legs. Letting him get as close as possible with clothes on but not going all the way to kissing him. Letting him decide whether or not he's ready to cross that physical barrier.

Zach lets out a cross between a groan and a growl, lunging forward and capturing her lips with his. The other hand not on her waist wraps around her back and tugs her close even as he presses her against the table behind her. For all the hundreds of daydreams she has had about this moment leading up to it, Riley can’t pick a single one of them that stands up to what actually kissing him feels like. A month of working out daily and eating right has made his entire frame broad and strong again, and he envelopes her with every inch of himself as she scrambles to wrap her arms around him in turn. There is no hesitation in the kiss, just fierce hunger, and she moans into it with a need that makes her whole body shiver.

The slide of his tongue into her mouth is natural, almost like breathing. Slowly and sensually exploring the contours of her mouth like it’s a wonder of the world. Riley was already hanging on by a bare thread before Zach deepened the kiss, now she’s one hundred percent certain that she doesn’t have a ghost of a prayer at retaining her self-control. She whimpers this time, one hand finding the curls at the base of Zach’s neck, tugging on them insistently while her other hand starts to map the contours of his waist and chest over his clothes.

He groans, eyes fluttering closed in pleasure as he knows that she feels the hardening of his cock against her stomach. There’s no way she couldn’t. The way her back has bowed slightly from being pressed up against the table means that some things are even more pronounced, and Riley tilts her hips forward to get more of that gorgeous pressure from his length against her torso. If he’s half as hard as she is wet they’ll be an even match, but she can’t resist taking another step forward. Capturing one of his hands in her own, Riley slides Zach’s fingers under the hem of the t-shirt she threw on when she got home from work. The invitation to explore is unmistakable, and she moans at how hot his skin feels against hers. It’s like being granted permission to go to heaven. Zach groans into her mouth and his hand closes around her breast, squeezing gently and massaging as he deepens the kiss even more.

Tossing off her bra with her work clothes was the best decision she ever could have made, and Riley presses into his touch as eagerly as possible. His hands are huge, calloused and clever, and his thumb is running circles around her nipple in just under two seconds which makes her gasp and break their kiss for the first time since it began.

“Baby…” Zach blushes slightly, realizing he’s used an endearment. “Can I—” he glances down at her chest and then back up to her eyes. “I want to—”

“I want you to, too. Trust me.” Untangling herself from him is only necessary for as long as it takes him to slip her shirt off, and the cold air of the cellar feels like a wake up call with how overheated she’s become in the last few minutes.

Zach kisses her lips and the starts a gradual trail down her jaw and neck. Not wanting to rush while he cups both breasts and makes his way to take one nipple in his mouth. It draws the most sinful moan from her throat, and Riley’s hands find his bulk again to keep him close as she arches her back into him. His slow and steady tendencies might drive her crazy - in more than one way - but it’s as reverent as it is needy as he closes his lips around the pebbled bud. “Fuck, baby…” her head tips back with a groan. “I knew your mouth was going to be amazing.”

His tongue flicks over the tip harshly, then more gently as the pressure of his teeth increases. He hums against her breast, aware that she is whining so beautifully that he wants to hear more.

“Shit—” Without even really being under him she’s still squirming and panting, letting him explore at his own rate and not interrupting him no matter how desperately she wants to get her hands wrapped around what she’s certain is a beautiful cock. “‘Sall yours, baby,” she promises, gulping down a ragged breath. “Every inch of me.”

He suckles, bites and soothes like he hasn’t done in a long time. Having spent hours thinking about her tits, what he would do to them, to her, if he was ever allowed to touch her. Now that he’s given permission, he wants to make her burn, crave his touch. Needing it like he had needed this place, and her.

Those first touches are intoxicating, letting Zach graze his hands, lips, and tongue across her flesh any way he wants until she’s begging him for more. “Fuck—I—please, baby,” she moans, feeling the ache in every part of her body. Her focus, though, is on getting him to move south. To the point where she’s fumbling blindly to get her own jeans off for him.

He pulls off her tit with a pop and reaches for her hands. “Baby, do you—” he doesn’t know if she wants to do this here or upstairs, but he wants her to be comfortable.

“I don’t even care,” she admits sheepishly, though this time when she leans in to kiss him it’s gentle. “I don’t care where, I just care that it’s you.”

He grins, kissing you again. “You wanna risk your daddy comin’ down here?” He asks.

“They’ll be out for hours,” Riley grins. “He took Mom for a fancy dinner and dancing.” Even thinking about it for a few seconds, her grin turns evil. “And the basement’s soundproof.”

“There’s a couch, right there.” Zach groans, grabbing her and dragging her over to the sofa so he can lay her down. The giggle that rises out of her at his enthusiasm is so light and so free it’s like air. This is all she’s wanted since the day he walked into her life and she just feels how right it is in her bones.

“Shit—” Zach hisses, squeezing his eyes shut as he rests on top of her. “I— I don’t have a fucking condom.” It’s not like there’s been a lot of opportunity for Zach to have sex in the past few years.

“I’m on the pill.” All Statesman agents - field or otherwise - have periodic physicals done so she knows she’s clean, too. “As long as you passed your physical, we’re good.”

“I passed it.” He promises, bobbling his head up and down. “Are you sure?” He asks softly, not wanting her to feel like he’s pushing for raw sex. As it is, a condom might be a good thing.

"Hey." Riley sits up, both of her hands on Zach's cheeks. "If you want to be extra safe, we can go upstairs. I have condoms in my dresser and we'll have a bed. I don't...want you to regret any of this."

Zach shakes his head. “No. I— fuck, I want to feel you.” He admits quietly. “So fucking badly.”

"Then get these things off me." That mischievous giggle returns and he slips one of his hand down to the apex of her thighs where the extra fabric grinds against her dripping slit deliciously.

Shedding clothes turns into a series of giggles and curses when a piece of clothing is being difficult. Until Zach is finally pushing his boxer briefs down and revealing his aching and nearly purple cock. "Fuuuuck." The groan that tears out of Riley's chest is deep and needy as she reaches for him, letting the fingers of one hand wrap around the base of his cock with a slight squeeze. "I knew you'd have the best dick."

He huffs in embarrassment and arousal, rocking his hips forward into her grip. “Shit.” He hisses, throbbing as a lovely little spurt of precum dribbles out and down her knuckles.

They both whine, different pitches and different levels of desperation, but when Riley leans forward to lick the precum off her fingers, she voices such obvious enjoyment that she leans forward further and flicks her tongue across the tip of his cock for more. "You even taste good," she praises, looking up at him through hooded eyes. "Next time I promise I'll suck you dry, baby. But this time I need to feel you."

“If I— if I don’t last—” Zach moans as she guides him towards her core. Nearly pulling him as she doesn’t let up on her grip but it’s probably the only thing keeping him from cumming, so he loves it. “I promise I’ll make you cum on my tongue.”

"I'm not worried." If anything, she's fairly certain that she's so worked up that she might still cum first, but Riley shakes her head and presses a kiss to Zach's lips. "This isn't going to be the only time we do this."

“It’s not.” He promises, shuffling closer and letting her slide him through her folds. “God, you’re so fucking sexy.”

"Want you so fucking badly." Never having been one to disguise her wants before, she's felt like she was going to implode for weeks. Now, as he sinks into her, Riley can't tear her eyes away. Watching inch after inch of his cock disappear into her pussy is so hypnotizing she doesn't even hear the way she keens at being filled so completely.

The tight clutch of her surrounds him, squeezing him in a way that nearly makes him breathless. “Fuuuuuuuuuck.” He manages to lean down and press his forehead to hers as he finally grinds deep and bottoms out inside Riley.

"Fu—fuuuck—you feel so incredible. Holy shit." Her legs wrap around his waist, keeping him buried inside her while they both adjust to the perfect way they fit together.

His body is primed, right on the edge of toppling over. Inhaling and exhaling slowly as he throbs inside her. Hissing when she clenches down around him and makes him rock his hips forward slightly.

"Take your time." Riley has no plans on rushing this, needing a moment of her own to adjust to the way his thickness is splitting her open. It has her chest heaving under him even as she trails kisses down the long line of his jaw and throat.

“So fucking perfect.” Zach groans. “Jesus, you feel— it’s perfect. Like coming home.”

In the last month they really have spent nearly all of their free time together, and this moment that they're in now is the place she was absolutely certain that they were going to end up. Maybe not this couch specifically but intertwined together with intimacy at the core of their connection. "You're so fucking incredible." It really is on the tip of her tongue, to say what she's been feeling for weeks, but saying it for the first time with him buried inside her would either be cheesy or seem insincere. And since she doesn't want it to be either of those thing, she pours herself into kissing him instead.

When she says it like that, Zach believes it. Wondering what things would have been like if he had known her before being discharged. With his mouth occupied, he can’t voice anything more than a groan as he slides his arms under her and burrows in closer before he starts to move.

Knowing that they’re completely alone and in the only soundproof room in the house, Riley doesn’t hold back. The moans that cross her lips are salacious and encouraging, rising up through the air to practically float around them. To make them float somehow.

Every thrust feels like he’s being ripped apart. Torn at the seams and reforged in the extreme pleasure that only she can bring. No one has ever felt so good, not even the first girl he slept with. “Fuck, I— Jesus.”

“So fucking good.” The praise seems to be on repeat for her, punctuated with curses and cries that carry his name but break halfway through as another tremor of pleasure tears through her. Other encounters might have been more carefully planned or had more of some element or other, but none has ever felt this right.

Rocking into her steadily, Zach groans his own agreement. Three little words, ridiculous and not appropriate right now, are begging to fall from his lips. Making him kiss her again to not voice them.

Riley shifts under him, angling her hips to take each thrust deeper and letting out a muffled cry when his perfect cock strikes home at her g-spot at just the right time. She’s so close that she’s shaking with it, trembling on the verge of her peak and clinging to him with every stroke.

“Shit— shit, you need to cum. I need you to cum.” He can feel his control unraveling, surprised that he’s lasted this long. Only brief changes in pace have saved him to this point.

“Just like that,” she promises him, feeling the tension coil in her spine, knowing that she’s so close to the edge that if he changes anything she’ll lose it. Four more strokes is all it takes and she’s gasping for air, moaning Zach’s name into the heavy air as she comes apart for him.

“Riley.” Zach moans, unable to do anything other than follow her over the edge, pushing deep and gasping as he cums. Spilling hot ropes of cum into her womb as he seemingly cums forever.

“Holy fuck.” Head dropping back against the cushions, Riley pants for air and giggles wildly with the giddiness of such an intense first encounter. The words dance in her head but she’s able to push them aside for now, not willing to sacrifice the chance of a repeat encounter to her hummingbird heart.

“Holy shit, I’m dead.” Zach collapses against her and pants, smiling goofily as he tries to catch his breath. “Tell me it was good.”

“Baby,” she frowns slightly at the mere idea that it wouldn’t have been mind-blowing, but her fingers card through Zach’s damp hair. “It was so good I’m tempted to try to keep you all to myself,” Riley admits, maybe a little too softly.

“You can.” Zach mumbles, unsure of what she meant by that, but he had no intention of doing something with someone else. He’s never been that type of man.

“I didn’t want to assume.” The slightly nervous look on her face dissipates and she leans up to kiss him slowly. “Maybe you had your eye on someone else, too. Or maybe you’re not a relationship guy. We’ve never…never really talked about that.”

“Not a chance.” Zach grunts, shaking his head and huffing slightly. “I don’t deserve you, no way I’m going to think that I should just fuck you.”

"I just..." she blows out a breath, finding herself gazing into his eyes with a nearly dopey expression. "I really like you. And I think we could have something special. That's...insanely sappy. But at least it's true."

“I love you.” Zach’s eyes widen, even as he blurts out the confession. Cursing himself for not keeping his mouth shut.

For a second the moment is frozen. Riley doesn't dare to breathe or speak until she sees the regret in his eyes. "Please don't take it back." Both of her hands find his face again, cupping his cheeks and smoothing the anxious creases from his features before pressing a firm, earnest kiss to his lips. "I love you, too. I just – I guess I was really off base worrying that you didn't feel the same way about me."

“You are amazing.” Zach huffs. “Fucking amazing.” Relaxing in her embrace as she admits her own feelings. “I— I was worried that I would come on too strong, or someone thinking I’m trying to get in good with your family.”

“You might get a good questioning from my daddy now that we’re together, but that’s about it.” She actually laughs at the idea of it, already having seen firsthand the way her father doted on the trainee agent under his roof. He had taken a personal interest in Zach’s training as well, giving him a few tips in the way of lasso and whip technique. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m an all or nothing kind of girl and I swear I’m all in.”

“Your dad has already spoken to me.” Zach admits, shaking his head and grinning at her shocked expression. “Wanted to know if you wanted more than friendship, what would I do.”

Riley laughs when she finally shakes her head, shaking with it and grinning at him. "Was the answer fuck me into the basement sofa? Because that's a pretty fucking excellent answer."

He snorts and shakes his head. “Hell no.” He moans. “Do you think I wanted to die? He had the electric whip in his hands.”

"I appreciate a man with instincts for self-preservation." She's still grinning when she nudges her nose against his. Still lying wrapped up in him on the sofa is an amazing place to be, but her stomach rumbling gives her away. "I was waiting for you to come home so we could have dinner together," she admits with a slightly guilty expression. "Maybe we can clean up and order a pizza? I kinda want to just snuggle up and relax with you."

“That sounds good, but I’m paying.” The Daniels have been more than generous, letting him stay for free, feeding him, helping him more than he could ever repay. Buying the woman he loves a pizza seems small, but a month ago, he couldn’t do that.

"If you insist." It isn't something she would ever expect from him, knowing how he saves and cherishes every penny in every paycheck, but she also won't push back against his pride. Instead, she just kisses him again, enjoying the lingering moment of affection, and looks back out over the room as they stretch and stand up again. There are truly clothes everywhere and every single cushion on that couch is in disarray.

“It’s a good damn thing your daddy told me that he had disabled the camera system in the basement.” Zach groans as he pulls back with a grin. “Don’t want him to see this.”

"I would not be the first one of his children that he walked in on." Riley snickers, tracking down her panties about four feet away where they landing when Zach threw them. "Jay has that distinction. And Janey was mortified."

“I’m sure it’s a lot different than walking in on your baby girl.” He had heard the nickname one night when Riley and Jack had been talking in his home office and the older man had hugged her and told her how proud of her he was. It was a moment that made Zach ache for a family like she had.

"Younger by a whole two minutes and forever the baby because of it." There's nothing wrong with that, but Riley just shrugs as they get dressed. Once things are back in place, she slips her hand into Zach's and squeezes. "We should just be up front with them. There's no keeping secrets in this family, for better or worse."

“Hopefully they don’t hate the idea too badly.” There’s still the issues with socialization, feeling inferior. He had been working on it, but there was nothing but time that would help that.

"Are you kidding?" They head upstairs together hand in hand. "Mom figured out which coffee mug you like best and won't let anyone else use it now. That's family shit. You're fine, babe. I promise."

“Is that why she’s always got it set out no matter how early I try to get up to make coffee?” He asks with a laugh, overjoyed by the thought and it makes him grin.

"Oh yeah. That's Zach's mug. It gets set out on the counter every night before she goes to bed along with everybody else's." When the house was busy and bustling and full to the gills, it helped to have specific things like dishes associated with each member of the family. It persisted after the house was just down to the three of you and now that there are four again it seemed like a nice thing to also give Zach that little bit of familial normality.

“I like that.” He admits, blushing slightly. “That makes me feel like I’m one of you. Like I belong here.”

"You do, honey." It might be a little rude to surprise the kids by just sitting at the kitchen table like you are, but you didn't plan on it. Date night got cut short by the place you normally go dancing being closed for a private event, so you and Jack had stopped for a pint of ice cream to share and planned on playing a board game. From both of the kids' disheveled appearance, it would seem you weren't the only one having a date night.

"Fucking shit, Mom!" Riley jumps three feet in the air, clutching Zach's hand in surprise and all but clutching her chest with her free hand when she whirls around to find you and her father sitting at the table. "Shi—I—sorry. Just...what the hell are you doing home?"

Jack chuckles, trying not to scowl at the very obvious evidence of what his baby girl and Zach had been up to down in his basement. He had been correct in turning off the damn cameras. “Nowhere to dance in this town tonight.” Jack grunts. “Least not to music I can handle.”

“We were going to order pizza.” Riley blurts out, suddenly nervous at nearly being caught, but she doesn’t let go of Zach’s hand. “Did you—uh…did you eat yet?”

“Not yet.” Jack hums, pulling out his phone so he can pull up the website for the only pizza place that delivers to the ranch. “What’s everyone want?”

“Pepperoni.” Riley answers immediately before looking back at Zach. “And banana peppers. Thanks, Dad.”

“Come and sit.” Honestly, you just want to bundle them up in a tight hug and tell them how glad you are that they stopped tiptoeing around each other, but you don’t know how Zach will react to that very maternal response. “How was everyone’s day at work?”

“I’d like your permission to date your daughter.” Zach blurts out, flushing again at how his mouth runs off without his brain around. Riley. “I mean— I understand that I am a man you haven’t known for long, but I will do whatever it takes to make sure your daughter is loved and respected.” He rallies and looks between you and Jack. He knows that he doesn’t need to ask you anything, but he wants to. He respects you both.

The mutual smile that breaks out across yours and Jack’s face is partially quiet amusement and partially the fact that you’re touched he would even approach it in such an old-fashioned way. “Come on and sit down, kids,” you insist, patting the tabletop even as you get up to fetch a pitcher of sweet tea and four glasses. Serious discussions usually go easier if you have something in your hands to fidget with.

Zach throws Riley a look and dutifully sits down. Wondering if he had misstepped. He had thought the parents of the woman he loves wound want him to be serious.

“First off,” Jack sits up straight in his chair after hanging up the phone and gives you a nod of thanks for putting a drink in front of him. “Ri usually lives by the motto that it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission, so I appreciate you being straight forward.” He shakes his head in his baby girl’s direction, but this is really for the young man directly in front of him.

“I’ve figured that out.” Zach chuckles, looking over at Riley with nothing short of adoration in his gaze. “But I am a guest in your house, and feel like you’ve taken me into your family. I don’t want to insult your sense of propriety after you have been so wonderful.” It’s about respect for him. He’s had the last three years of being looked down on, taken for the worst and not once has this family done this to him. Not even when the chip on his shoulder got in the way.

"And I appreciate that." He won't pretend otherwise. Good manners matter to Jack when it comes to his family and they always have. These are the most important people on the planet to him. "Which brings me to my second point," he looks between the two of them - young adults even older than you and he were the first time you got married. "Y'all be respectful of each other and the shared parts of this house."

Riley tips her head, brow furrowing with interest at her father. "That's it? Just 'be good and don't have sex in the kitchen'?"

Jack closes his eyes briefly, ignoring the way you stifle an amused snort. “Do you want me to pull the ‘not under my roof’ bullshit you would just ignore anyway?” He asks, wondering why, of all his children, his youngest was most like him. Jack Jr. might look like his younger copy, and Sam might have his tenacity, but Riley had always had his fighting spirit, his need to buck the system. It had caused some headaches through her teenage years, but he’s trying to respect the fact that they are grown.

"Hell no," Riley shakes her head, reaching for Zach's hand under the table and lacing their fingers together. "I guess I expected the same 'what are your intentions' speech you gave Vanessa, though." Of course - Zach had said that he and her father had already spoken about her a little. That might be the reason for no speech. But that didn't stop her from being surprised.

“I already know the boy is in love with you.” Jack snorts, rolling his eyes. “He’s the type to want to marry you and have babies.” He shoots a very red-faced Zach a grin. “Am I wrong?”

Trying to save him the embarrassment, Riley puts up her other hand in defeat. "Okay, so no intentions speech. And I'm not upset about that fact, for the record. Just surprised."

"We told your brother and your sister the same thing," you remind her, sitting back in your seat with both hands around your cold glass of tea. "As long as you're happy, we're happy."

“I think your dad understood I have good intentions.” That vote of confidence has Zach straightening up in his chair. Feeling a burst of pride through the embarrassment.

"One of us should," Riley jokes, knowing full well that she is viewed as the most mischievous Daniels child.

Snorting, Zach looks to her father, expecting Jack to say something. The older man just shrugs. “That’s your problem now, son.” He jokes with a chuckle. “That’s alllllll you. Your second chance is here. Grab on and hope to hell like you don’t fall off.”

Zach grins at the advice and nods. “I won’t sir. I’m on this ride for the long haul.”

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle    

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#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x you #Jack Daniels x female reader #Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels #Zach Wellison #Zach Wellison x OC #Zach Wellison x female OC #Zach Wellison x f!OC #Kingsman Golden Circle #Brothers and Sisters #crossover fanfic #technically

[rainontherooftops]

Soup Kitchen Confessions

Summary: You have been volunteering at a soup kitchen in your neighbourhood for the last five months and had met Zach Wellison. He had shown you the ropes as a fellow volunteer and ex-homeless person. No wonder you've developed a crush, right? The question now is - how to ask Zach out on a date?

Fandom: Brothers and Sisters - Pedro Pascal as Zach Wellison Genre: Slice of Life, Romance, Trigger-Stories, Drama Pairing: Zach x f! Reader Triggers : Mentions of homelessness, Mentions of anxiety and mental health problems, PTSD, sickness, bodyfluids Rating : M

No Beta - Shame on me

*

Soup Kitchen Confessions

„Help! Volunteer in distress! “

You were holding a big ladle in one hand and the lid of an enormous pot in the other, making it impossible for you to wipe your glasses. The fog of the hot stew had fogged them up and you were rendered absolutely useless.

The chuckle next to you made your heart skip a little. You felt someone gently grab your chin and turn your face to the side, before your glasses were taken off your face and wiped.

The red-white-and-black pattern in front was slowly sharpened and registered as the checkered flannel of Zach Wellison who was stationed right next to you at the food-handout.

“There you go,” he said, “good as new.”

You were grateful for the flush that grazed your cheeks because of the hot stew – otherwise Zach might have thought you were blushing because of him. Which you totally were. But he didn’t need to know that.

“T-Thanks.,” you mumbled and put the lid to the side before giving the stew a good stir. Zach chuckled again with his deep baritone voice, pulled up the sleeves of his flannel and got back to cutting the bread into slices.

Now that you could see again the line outside the homeless shelter was already vanishing behind the corner of the building, five minutes before opening time. No wonder – the forecast was predicting rain.

You and Zach were the first group of volunteers that helped out once or twice a week – food, cleaning, sorting donations and giving information were the things you could provide. It was hard to admit, but you were relieved that you didn’t have to deal with the fact that there were probably not enough beds for all who were seeking shelter tonight.

“Ready?,” Zach asked beside you as one of the shelter employees was walking towards the entrance with the keys in her hand.

“As I’ll ever be,” you said – the answer you had given Zach at the start of every shift since you’d started volunteering five months ago.

As you put the ladle aside to tie your hair back you tried to concentrate on the task at hand – not the task you had set for yourself once the shift was over. Tonight you would ask Zach out on a date. Just like you had planned for the last month or so. But tonight, there was no chickening out.

The hungry patrons formed a line and came by for the dinner rush– some knowing what to do from experience, some unsure how to proceed because they were here for the first time. As you dished out a delicious chicken-veggie stew in disposable bamboo bowls, Zach handed out wooden cutlery and bread. There were water pitchers on the tables and enough space on the benches. And like every Monday and Thursday, the line didn’t seem to end, and your four allotted hours went by in a flash.

Five minutes before end of shift the line had trickled down somehow and you knew that the next volunteers would come in for the evening shift until midnight.

Your heart fluttered as you sidestepped so that Zach could hear you whisper: “D-Do you have a few minutes before heading out? There’s something I want to ask you.”

Zach smiled, handing over a piece of bread to a regular before answering: “Sure I- Oh no…”

Following his gaze, you sighed as you saw why his brows had furrowed.

A regular – a young veteran who shared Zachs past and who had a ‘place to sleep problem’ as he had explained it – had shown up. You thought he was nice, just a man who needed a bit of help adjusting to civilian life. But there was one thing that he had to work on. His other problem.

Zach rubbed his neck in anticipation before stepping out to meet the young man.

“Pete, you know the rules. If you want to come here, you need to be sober…”

‘Pete’ had a drinking problem. He was not an alcoholic, but he was on a dangerous path and in order to escape his PTSD he bought cheap beer and tried to drown his sorrows once in a while. And it seemed today was a particular hard day.

The young man was wobbling, looked pale – but something was off. You had a guess as to what it was when the poor man suddenly puked all over Zach and collapsed into his arms.

Handing your ladle off to another volunteer you hurried over, ignoring Zachs warning look and put a hand to Pete’s forehead.

“He’s not drunk, Zach. He’s sick. I don’t like how high his temperature is.”

Before you had started volunteering at the shelter, you’d done a first-aid course to prepare, and you had always been good at spotting when someone was not feeling well.

Zach sighed, the signs of annoyance on his face quickly shifting to concern. He put Pete’s arm around his shoulder and looked around for Beth, the shelter manager, who quickly saw what was up and threw the keys to you.

There was a separate room that was used as a makeshift infirmary, but it was locked when nobody was in because of all the medication that was kept there.

“C’mon Pete, move those legs for me,” Zach gruntled and you felt shame crawl up your spine because the sight of the strained muscles under Zachs soiled flannel and his voice made you all giddy.

You hurried ahead to unlock the infirmary and were intercepted by Chris and Madeline, a married couple who were both trained paramedics.

“We’ll take care of him. Go wash up, we’ll see what we can do.”

Zach wanted to protest, but his clothes were sticking to him, and he was leaving a trail of puke in his wake. You gave Madeline the keys and followed your volunteer-crush to the shared changing room.

“Switching from puked-on shirt to sweaty gym clothes,” he growled sarcastically. “Now that brings back wonderful memories.”

You had fetched a towel and held it under the faucet so he could clean himself up. Zach was already trying to wiggle out of his white shirt and tried not to get any of the puke on him when you returned. Ignoring his damn good looks – and the scars you could see – you tried to keep your blush under control.

“Let me help,” you whispered and held the towel to his neck where he had failed in his endeavor.

Zach took over before slipping into his gym shirt. Yes, it was sweaty, but at least that was all.

“D’you mind if we talk at the laundromat across the street? I’d like to wash these clothes before I get home. I think he sprayed my pants as well…”

“T-Talk?,” you asked and handed him a plastic bag you had found to put his clothes in.

“You wanted to ask me something, right?”

Ah yes… you had been interrupted.

“Uhm…. Okay? I’ve got time.”

By the time you left the shelter it was dark outside, and when you crossed the street, you panicked. Your carefully prepared speech was gone, you needed more time. A sign down the road caught your attention.

“I’ll be right with you, go on ahead.”

When you came to the laundromat ten minutes later, two helpings of frozen yoghurt in hand, you saw Zach sitting on one of the dryers as he watched the washing machine spin.

He was wearing yet another shirt and new pants– a washed out black shirt with some holes in it and some grey gym shorts – and he seemed deep in thought.

“Where’d you get that?,” you asked, and you saw that he had to suppress a panicked jump. He had been deep in his thoughts it seemed.

“Lost and found. I grabbed it on instinct. I used to do that when I was still homeless, looking for somewhat clean clothes when others couldn’t be saved anymore. Is that for me?”

Smiling encouragingly, you handed him one of the frozen yoghurts with kiwi and salted caramel (your favorite and you hoped he would like it too) before you hopped onto the dryer beside him with some difficulty.

“You deserve that after being puked on,” you said and the faintest of smiles was now decorating his face.

“Thanks. How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing.”

“But…”

“Zach, I didn’t ask you if you wanted it. I just bought it. It’s on me.”

He didn’t argue, although you could tell that he wanted to. The moment was over though when he put the spoon in his mouth and sighed in bliss.

“s’good.”

You smiled, let your legs dangle, and indulged in your own treat, listening to the sounds of the washing machines and dryers around you. Monday night was not a busy day at the laundromat it seemed.

“So, what did you want to ask me?”

Damn, Zach was quick on the pick-up.

You wiggled on your dryer, not able to look him in the eyes.

“Nothing important.”

“Come on, spit it out.,” he said, bumping his shoulder against yours.

“I… I can’t ask you while your clothes are still in the washer.”

Zach blinked in confusion and looked first at the washing machine, then at you.

“What does your question have to do with the fact that my clothes are getting a wash?”

You could feel the flush burn your cheeks and your gaze returned to the slowly melting half eaten froyo in your hands.

“B-Because it’s a personal question. And as long as your clothes are still in the wash, you can’t back away from me if it gets awkward.”

Apparently, Zach didn’t like where this kind of conversation was going – but he seemed to pick up on the wrong strings.

“A personal question? Are you okay? Do you need help?”

He was completely ignoring the second part of your sentence, so you decided to change the subject.

“I’m fine, honest. I just… I’ll ask you once your clothes are dry, okay?”

Zach was not okay with that, you could tell. But he was a man who cherished his privacy, probably because he didn’t have one while living on the street, so he didn’t push.

So instead, he picked up the conversation again.

“Okay… Mind if I ask you something while we wait?”

“Sure.”

Zach turned around on his dryer and leaned forward a little – not in a hovering way, but just enough so that you could smell the deodorant he had sprayed himself with when he had put on the sweaty t-shirt that was now also tumbling in the machine.

“Why are you volunteering at the shelter?”

You felt your stomach drop and you immediately turned your head. Somehow Zach had asked the question you had hoped he would never ask. But how should he have known not to ask for the reason? It was just a normal question.

“Oh dear…,” you said, putting the froyo aside. “Two questions that make me anxious. You have a talent, Mr. Wellison...”, you tried to joke.

Zachs reaction surprised you. He clicked his tongue, disappointed and with a hint of anger. He jumped off his dryer when his washer beeped. You could understand him. He had opened up to you right from the start, telling you that he had been homeless himself a few years back, living on the streets and that he still had trust issues.

By now the two were friends, but you had never told him why you volunteered at the shelter. Maybe he thought you were biased? Or didn’t trust him enough? But the reason was – at least for you – much worse.

Still, he had asked and just because you were uncomfortable didn’t mean that he didn’t deserve to know the truth.

While he was putting his clothes in his dryer next to your feet and ignored your gaze, you gripped the corners of the metal machine underneath you and took a deep breath.

“I do it because I’m selfish. And I do it to scare myself.”

Zach banged the door shut, probably louder than he had intended and started the drying program. When he met your gaze again, his eyes were softer, curious – but you know he wouldn’t pry.

“For me being homeless is of the scariest things I can think of. Not having a roof over my head, not knowing where my next meal will come from, not knowing where the next toilet is… It terrifies me,” you confessed.

“You’ve been homeless. And I just know if I ever would be faced with that situation I would never survive. Which is why I volunteer. I want to help the people who are homeless – but even more so I want to be confronted with it, so that I know how fortunate I am. Volunteering because it makes me feel better? That’s the crappiest reason.”

The cocktail of emotions on Zachs face was fascinating. It shifted from anger to pity, to a hint of disgust and the recollection of memories he wanted to forget. But you didn’t really notice, because during your confession his hands had wandered to your knees, rubbing the kneecaps in comfort.

He was standing between your legs, probably not even realizing how close he was.

“Being homeless is scary,” he finally said, lost in his memories. “And it was really, really hard. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your reason to help.”

“You don’t think it’s condescending somehow?,” you asked, always having had the gut feeling that if someone who was homeless knew that you volunteered and did everything just to not be like them would be awful.

“There’s nothing wrong with not wanting to be homeless. And you’re helping every week. You support the ones who are less fortunate. You would have supported me when I came into that shelter when I was still homeless.”

The dryer beeped, Zachs clothes finally washed and dry. But he didn’t move away.

“So – what is it you wanted to ask me that’s so personal? My clothes are dry, I can flee now if it gets awkward.”

“I… this is really nothing I should ask you when you have been puked on…”

The sound of your name on his lips made you look him in the eyes. He has slipped closer still and suddenly spellbound, the question refused to keep sitting on your tongue.

“I… I wanted to ask you if... if you’d like to… to go on a… on a date? With... with me?”

Zachs eyes widened in shock, and you felt as tough someone had emptied a bucket of ice water onto your neck.

You were sitting on the dryer, caged in because he had stepped between your legs. It was you who couldn’t escape.

Panicking, you started to stutter.

“Forget it… Forget I said anything. I shouldn’t have…”

A soldier’s reflexes were not to be taken lightly, you realized, as Zachs hands suddenly slithered up your thighs, around your waist and pulled you closer to the edge of the dryer.

His aim was also on point. His lips fit against yours perfectly, finding their mark.

For a few seconds you sat there, frozen, feeling Zachs slightly chipped lips against yours, your heart racing and vibrating against his own heart beneath his warm flesh. But it was impossible not to reciprocate.

You were rewarded with a blissful growl as you ran your hands through his hair, changing the angle of the kiss and deepening it, trying to get even closer to him.

Soon you needed to come up for air though. Neither you nor him dared to leave each other’s orbit, so you leaned your forehead against his, breathing heavily.

“A second date? I’m a lucky guy…”, he finally said.

You blinked in confused.

“Second?”

He chuckled and retreated, finally tending to the dryer that was reminding him to get his clothes with a beep.

“You got me a froyo. We talked, got to know each other. And we just had a genuinely nice kiss. I’m counting that as a date.”

You were sure that the human skin could not turn a darker shade of red than the one that was now on your face.

“O-okay…. So, will you go on a second date with me?,” you asked, suddenly extremely shy again.

Zach shouldered his gym bag that now held his freshly laundered clothes before turning to you, lifting your chin, and placing another kiss to your lips.

“With pleasure.”

*

AN: Do we want an NSFW! Part 2?

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal Fanfiction #Zach Wellison #Zach Wellison x f!reader #Brothers & Sisters #Pedro Pascal Fandom #friends to lovers #pining