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.
A/N: My first Zach fic! I know fuck all about Zach, but he’s cute so I wrote this and I love it.
The prompt for this week’s Writer Wednesday was given, as always, by the lovely @autumnleaves1991-blog, and the masterlists are created by @clydesducktape.
“I hate him!”
Your best friend sighed, rubbing your arm across the counter. “I know,” he promised. “He’s an ass.”
You took a stuttering breath, trying not to burst into tears for what had to be the fifth or sixth time that night. “He fucking-“ you hiccuped, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. “In my bed!”
Napoleon nodded, setting a cup of tea down in front of you. “Total asshole,” he agreed yet again. “Is he out yet?”
“No,” you mumbled, laying your head against your arms. “I told him all his shit had to be gone by eight. If it wasn’t, I’d call the cops.”
“That’s only another hour,” Napoleon said. “Then you can go home and burn everything he ever touched.”
You chucked weakly. “A holiday bonfire,” you said softly. Then, you sat up fast as a flash, panic coursing through your heart. “Fuck! I need a date!”
Napoleon blinked. “I get that you’re single,” he said. “But you’ve only been that way for a few hours.”
“No!” You said. “I promised my parents I’d introduce them to my boyfriend this year! They’re coming in two days! What am I gonna do?” You all but wailed, splaying your upper half across Napoleon’s countertop.
A knock at the door drew Napoleon away from you as he shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’d offer myself up as tribute, but I’m busy this whole weekend.” He opened the door, immediately brightening. “Hey! I didn’t expect you to be around here tonight!”
A new voice spoke. “Just came by for my coat. I think it’s here.”
You looked up, miserably looking at Napoleon’s friend. “Who’s that?”
“Oh!” Napoleon said hurriedly. “(Y/N), this is Zach. Zach, (Y/N).”
“Pleasure,” Zach said, holding out his hand. You shook it, deciding to continue your wallowing and laying yourself across the linoleum once more.
Napoleon chuckled. “Poor thing’s boyfriend just cheated on them,” he explained while you pressed your cheek into the counter. “They’re a bit distressed,” he added in a stage whisper that made you shoot him a middle finger.
Zach sat beside you, setting his bag at his side. “It’s gonna be okay,” he said. “I mean, you’re super good looking. I’m sure you’ll have no problem finding another partner.”
Napoleon stopped in his tracks, and you looked up at him, glaring wildly. “Don’t you dare,” you growled, but the shit eating grin was already there.
“Hey Zach,” Napoleon asked casually while you groaned loudly. “What’re you doing this weekend?”
“Same thing I do every weekend.”
“Want to do me a favor?”
Zach shrugged. “Why not?”
Napoleon put a cup of tea in front of Zach. “Drink that, and play pretend that you’re (F/N)’s boyfriend this weekend.”
A pause in which you could’ve sworn you wanted Napoleon dead. Zach nearly choked on his tea, coughing violently while you definitely tried to kill Napoleon with your eyes. “I’m sorry?” Zach asked once he was done nearly dying.
Napoleon began to explain. “They told their parents they’d introduce them to their boyfriend this weekend. However, said boyfriend turned out to be a cheating dickhole, and they need a fake boyfriend for the weekend.”
Zach glanced at you, his eyes wide. “Are you okay with this?” He asked. “We did only just meet.”
“Are you an ax murderer?” You asked.
“No?”
“Some kind of complete pervert?”
“Definitely not.”
“Going to kill me in my sleep and wear my skin?”
“I wasn’t planning on doing so.”
You nodded firmly. “Yeah,” you said, voice weary. “I’m cool with it.”
Napoleon grinned. “Perfect!” He said cheerily. “Now, honey, go lay down. You had a rough day and you need lots of sleep. Don’t worry about your apartment. I’ll call at 8 and if anyone’s there I’ll kill them myself.”
“Don’t think you’re forgiven,” you said warningly, but the menacing effect was somewhat ruined by how exhausted you looked as you dragged yourself to Napoleon’s guest bedroom and slowly shut the door.
The next day, you met Zach for coffee, giving him the details of what the weekend would entail.
“You can come back to my apartment tonight if you want,” you said once you were done. “It’s kinda barren though. My ex took a bunch of stuff.”
Zach shook his head. “I’m sure it’s lovely,” he said. “I don’t mind staying if you don’t mind having me.”
You smiled. “Has anyone ever told you you’re very sweet?” You asked, looping your arm through his and beginning the walk back to your apartment.
“Not often,” Zach said sheepishly. “I don’t get too many compliments where I live.”
“Where do you live?” You asked curiously.
Zach paused, looking around. “Sometimes I sleep there,” he said finally, pointing to a tiny bus stop. “Or there, beside the bakery. The park is nice in the summer, and when it’s super cold I stay at the shelter downtown.”
Your heart almost shattered. “Oh.”
“I’m an ex-marine,” Zach said quietly. “Once I got out, well. Work isn’t exactly easy to come by.”
“I-“ you didn’t have the words to say. Nothing seemed adequate enough.
“It’s fine,” Zach reassured. “Truly.”
The walk back was mostly quiet. Zach talked a little about the city, and you told him about your family. By the time you got back to your apartment, you were shivering and fumbling with your keys.
“Here,” Zach said softly, taking your key and slotting it into the lock. You wiped your nose and eyes, trying not to cry once the door opened. The base furniture was still there, but there was very little left beyond that. You’d cried your eyes out upon seeing it yesterday, but somehow, it seemed worse now.
Zach nudged you inside, helping you sit at your little table and gently rubbing your shoulders. “It’s going to be okay.”
You nodded hopelessly. “He left me all my decorations,” you said quietly, looking at the meager strings of lights and adorably small tree, still with presents underneath. “That ass.”
Zach blinked. “I get that he sucks, but he left you decorations.”
“We put them up together,” you mumbled into your sweater sleeves. “Tradition.”
“Ah,” Zach said, nodding his understanding. “I get it. Wanna mope?”
You nodded. “Can you turn the TV on?” You asked softly. “I’ll order takeout. Got any favorites?”
Zach shrugged. “I’m not picky.”
“I never asked that,” you pointed out, picking up your phone. “Favorites?”
“Chinese.”
You ordered the food, glaring at Zach when he tried to tell you he wasn’t too hungry. Eventually, he caved, asking timidly for some soup and an egg roll.
“You can eat here, you know,” you reminded him, falling miserably onto the couch, kicking your shoes off and wrapping a checkered blanket around your body.
Zach watched you. “Just don’t wanna be a burden.”
“Can’t get any more burdensome than my ex,” you said lowly, flicking through the channels. “Hallmark channel?”
“Could it get any more depressing?” Zach asked, but he grabbed a blanket anyway, nodding. “I don’t care.”
You two watched movies until the takeout arrived, both in similarly slouched positions on the couch. When the bell rang, you sighed, trudging upright and accepting the food with a small smile.
“Dinner!” You announced, finally braving your cabinets and finding that all your dishes were still in place. “Wanna eat out of the containers?”
“Can we use dishes?” Zach asked, and you took one look at his hopeful face, reminded suddenly that this was probably the first meal in a long time Zach had eaten with a real plate, so you shrugged and grabbed the appropriate dishes and utensils and began to divvy up the food.
After dinner, which was warm and shitty and perfect, you stood, yawning and gesturing to your room. “Tired?”
Zach nodded. “Where am I sleeping?”
“In a bed?” You said, as if it were any question. “Yes, I totally make my boyfriend sleep on the couch, especially when my parents visit.”
Zach’s ears turned red. “I just meant-“
“I’m too tired to be even remotely embarrassed about you sleeping in my bed,” you reminded him. “Now c’mon.”
Reluctantly, Zach followed you. You showed him his side of the bed, where the bathroom was, and reminded him to not wake you unless it was urgent before you brushed your teeth and rolled into bed.
The next morning, you woke to the smell of breakfast and the sound of chatter. You sat up, rubbing your eyes and looking around. It was snowing outside, the snow already covering your tiny balcony. Your door opened, and you instantly brought the blankets up to cover yourself before you realized it was only Zach.
“Good morning,” he said, setting a cup of coffee beside you and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Your parents are here early. I told them you were sick last night and just needed to sleep in a little.”
Your forehead tingled where Zach had kissed it, and you decided to remedy the situation by drinking your coffee. “Do I smell breakfast?”
Zach nodded. “Apparently I still remember how to make pancakes,” he said with a smile. “I’m saving some for you.”
Saving some wasn’t an issue, because a few minutes later, you came out of your room, dressed in cozy clothes and smiling.
“Mama!” You said happily. “Dad!”
You hugged your parents in turn, finally coming up behind Zach and kissing his cheek. “Thanks for breakfast,” you said sweetly. “And for waking me up.”
“No problem,” Zach promised. “I’m almost done. Wanna grab the syrup?”
You set the table, happily chatting to your parents while you did so. Four plates, four cups, and one slightly numb feeling in your chest as you sat down.
“Breakfast!” Zach announced happily, putting down a plate of food and sitting beside you. “Hungry?”
“Very,” you said eagerly. “I haven’t had a home cooked breakfast in forever!”
Your mother smiled. “So, honey,” she said. “How’d you and Zach meet? We’ve been hearing about this mystery man, but don’t know a thing about him!”
You shrugged, stabbing a bite of food. “We met while I was on my way home from work,” you said. “Technically. I tripped and he helped me get home. I thought I’d never see him again.”
“Plus,” Zach added. “You said you had a boyfriend already.”
“Strange man helps me late at night, of course I’m going to lie,” you said. “We really met at a mutual friend’s housewarming party. You remember Napoleon? He introduced us, and we talked for hours. It was love at first, well, second sight.”
Your father nodded. “So what do you do Zach?”
Zach paused for a second, his cup halfway to his lips. You quickly answered for him. “Zach’s just out of the military,” you said. “Still looking for a job.”
“And how goes the search?” Your father asked curiously.
“It’s not easy,” Zach admitted. “But I think I’m getting closer.”
Conversation kept flowing, and you occasionally kept lying. Zach followed along perfectly, always smiling and touching you gently, the way any loving boyfriend would’ve.
“Alright,” your mother said, standing and smiling. “Well, your father and I are going to go visit your aunt. We’ll be back in a few hours. Then we can go out and see the lights. How does that sound?”
You nodded. “Zach and I will be here!” You promised. “Love you.”
Your parents left, and you immediately turned to Zach. “Thank you so much,” you said softly. “You’re doing amazing.”
Zach shrugged. “Just doing my job,” he admitted. “Now I believe your parents said something about cookies?”
“Yeah,” you said, turning to your kitchen. “Can you grab two mixing bowls from the cabinet?”
Five minutes later, you had all the ingredients for cookies strewn across your countertop. Zach had found two black aprons shoved in one of your drawers, and you had both donned them, agreeing that this was about to be a very messy occasion.
“Okay,” you said, checking your practically ancient recipe. “Cream butter and sugar. Seems easy enough.”
Thankfully, you were able to follow the instructions well. Right up until, of course, Zach accidentally elbowed a bowl of flour and sent a white puff up, all over your apron
“Zach,” you moaned, wiping your apron and sighing as you only made it worse
Zach’s innocent smile didn’t help his cause. “Sorry!”
You grinned, sipping two fingers into the soupy dough mix and smearing them over Zach’s apron.
“Are we playing that game?” Zach asked, pulling his hands out of the bowl and looking pointedly at you. “Because I will win.”
“Will you?” You asked, right before a bowl of flour got upended right over your head.
“Zach!” You screamed happily, now covered head to foot in flour. “Oh my god!”
Zach laughed, holding his doughy hands up and smiling. “Sorry!” He said through laughter.
“Not yet you aren’t!” You declared, pressing your equally dough covered hands to his chest and leaving two very prominent handprints against the black of his apron.
Zach gasped. “It is on!” He said, grabbing the spoon you’d been using and wielding it like a sword. You retaliated by grabbing the mixer paddle, holding it out and ready to fight.
Almost ten minutes later, you were absolutely caked in batter and laying on the floor amidst piles of flour, sugar, and raw dough. Zach was underneath you, his hair full of dough and his cheeks happily flushed.
“You’re a mess,” he said quietly, his breath shifting your hair.
“So are you,” you said, gently wiping away a spot of flour on Zach’s cheek. “Still cute though.”
Zach’s face grew steadily redder. “Should we get up?” He asked.
You nodded, but didn’t move. “Yeah.”
Zach’s hand came up, sliding up your back and cupping your neck, his warm skin causing you to shiver. “You’re so pretty,” he murmured.
You shifted closer, so you were only inches apart. “I could say the same about you,” you whispered before slowly and softly kissing Zach.
He tasted like Christmas cookies, sweet and warm and just a little spicy. It was the perfect kiss, infinitely better than any kiss you’d ever had with your ex. Zach’s hands traced down your arms, holding you steady until you feared you couldn’t hold your breath anymore. You pulled away, breathless, eyes wide. “My parents aren’t around,” you told him softly.
“Is that an invitation or a warning?” Zach asked, gently coming up to kiss away a spot of cookie dough on your cheek.
“Just a reminder,” you decided finally before falling back into Zach.
Later that evening, you and Zach were curled up on your couch, your parents in the room with you, all four of you watching a cheesy Christmas movie. Your cookies, which had come out misshapen and gooey, were almost gone.
“Hey,” Zach whispered, nudging you. “Did you mean it earlier?”
“Hm?”
“The kiss,” Zach clarified. “Did you mean it?”
You nodded. “Yeah,” you decided. “Yeah, I did. Did you?”
Zach’s smile grew. “I never faked it.”
That night, once you were in bed, all cozied up and snuggling Zach, you and him continued to turn your false relationship into a real one. Sloppy kisses and wandering hands, hot and heavy breath under the sheets all throughout the night. It was paradise, and it was just enough to completely shove the last desperate dredges of your ex boyfriend out of your brain.
Sometime between your various throws of passion, Zach tenderly kissed your collarbone and asked you a question. “Are you okay with this?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” You responded, stroking through Zach’s already messy hair.
“I mean-“ Zach started, kissing under your jaw. “I’m homeless. Jobless. I’m not the kind of guy most people are after.”
You shushed him, grabbing his face to stop him from hiding behind his kisses. “Zach,” you breathed, his slightly squished cheeks growing warm under your hands. “Zach Wellison. I love you. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you have a house or a job or any of that. As long as you are you. Sweet and kind and perfect in every way that matters, I will love you.”
Zach’s lip wobbled. “Baby.”
“C’mere,” you murmured, cuddling Zach close and cooing as he cried. “Oh honey, honey, shh, don’t cry.”
“I love you,” Zach whimpered. “So much.”
You stroked over his hair, kissing his forehead. “I love you too Zach.”
The next day was very mundane. You woke in Zach’s arms, warm and content. He crawled out of bed first, mumbling something about drinks. He came back after a few minutes with two cups of hot chocolate, both with marshmallows and two little candy canes arranged in a heart shape.
“You’re a dork!” You announced, sipping your hot chocolate. “And this is perfect. Thank you.”
“It’s the least I could do after last night,” Zach said, climbing back into the bed beside you.
“Hey, Zach,” you said, suddenly thinking of something. “Do you want anything for Christmas?” You asked, cupping your hot chocolate and letting the warmth seep into your skin. “Seems ridiculous for us to be celebrating together and for me to not get you anything.”
Zach shrugged. “Just a new backpack,” he finally decided. “I need it. The old home is falling apart.”
An idea struck you. “A new home,” you said softly. “Just another black one?”
“No preference, but I like red,” Zach said, sipping his drink. He came away with a chocolate mustache, and you laughed, already forming a plan.
That day was nice. You and Zach went out, passing the time by checking out little shops with adorable keepsakes. You bought Zach one he kept eyeing, telling him firmly it was his Christmas present every time he protested. At some point you split up, you buying Zach one last present before finding him again. Your parents joined you in the evening, and you ate dinner out. It was sweet, all cozy inside where you could see the city’s big tree and the ice skating rink. You all traded presents by the rink, happily hugging your parents goodbye once you were done, promising to see them soon.
“Can you skate?” You asked Zach as you began to walk home, your parents heading in the opposite direction so they could catch a cab to the airport.
“Never bothered to learn,” Zach admitted. “Can you?”
You shrugged. “I can confidently fall on my ass,” you said, and Zach laughed.
Your apartment was warm when you entered, and you urged Zach to sit so you could hand him his present.
“And one last present for you,” you said, handing Zach his last present. “I wanted to wait until we were alone. This is a thank you for making me laugh this weekend, for making me smile and forget how upset I was. For helping me out even though you didn’t have to. For letting me love you.”
Zach smiled, pulling the ribbon off the tiny box and immediately beginning to cry. “No,” he breathed. “No.”
“Yes,” you said softly, tears forming in your eyes too. Inside the box was a beautiful red house key and a small note on the top of the box asking Zach to move in with you. “Zach. I love you, and I want you here, out of the cold and right beside me.”
Zach nodded, all but throwing himself into your arms. You hugged him tight, finally pulling away and smiling. “You asked for a new home,” you reminded him. “You never really specified it had to be a backpack.”
Zach chuckled weakly. “Dammit,” he said. “Should’ve been more specific.”
You grinned, gently kissing Zach’s cheek. “So is this a good Christmas?”
“Yeah,” Zach said, wiping his eyes and looking down at the key once more. “I think this is a very good Christmas.”
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.
