#ezra prospect fanfiction

[beskarandblasters]

Voyeuristic Tendencies

Din Djarin x F!Reader x Ezra

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist | Ezra Masterlist

Author’s note: I tend not to get horny writing my own smut but there’s a part towards the end that just… did it for me ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) No spoilers but I’ll reveal what it is in the end note. Thank you to @pedgito for beta reading 🤍

Summary: In an AU where the worlds of The Mandalorian and Prospect collide, you and Din are business partners and Ezra finds himself on Nevarro after escaping the Green. You both agree to let Ezra join your partnership but unbeknownst to Din, you and Ezra form a sexual relationship. What will happen once Din finds out?

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), post the events of Prospect, oral sex (M and F receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cum eating, voyeurism, MFM threesome, light angst, jealousy, pet names (gem and cyar’ika), no use of y/n

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs

You and Din weren’t looking to add anyone to your little crew. Grogu went off to train with the Jedi and his absence strained the strictly business relationship you two had. But one day while wandering the marketplace on Nevarro, you encountered a strange man who babbled endlessly. His name was Ezra. He told you and Din that he just left a moon you’ve never heard of; the Green. He told you that he got separated from his old partner, a girl named Cee. And he told you he just recently lost his right arm. He spoke with an accent that you couldn’t quite place where it was from. But all in all, you felt bad for him. 

Din, on the other hand, didn’t want anything to do with Ezra.

“He sounds like a scammer,” Din said. 

“Aw, come on. He seems nice. And he’s in need.”

“You can’t replace Grogu with a strange one-armed man,” Din sighed. 

“Please? It would be nice to have an extra person to help out. Especially if Grogu comes back…” you said. 

Well, when you put it like that… How could Din refuse?

-

You’re walking through the marketplace, hoping to find Ezra again. He couldn’t have gotten far. From what you gathered he tends to hang out around here and somehow sweet-talk the vendors into giving him food. Maybe Din wasn’t too far off when he said Ezra was a scammer…

Whatever, you still want to help him. 

And there Ezra is, at the produce stand, holding a vegetable in his one hand while sweet-talking the vendor. You watch the exchange take place, Ezra using his big lofty words to coerce the vendor into giving him more. And it works, the vendor grabs a bag and puts a few more vegetables in it before handing it off to Ezra with a smile. Maybe it would be nice to have someone with that kind of skill on your crew. 

Ezra turns and walks away, crossing paths with you and Din. He stops and smiles when he sees you, face contorting into a lopsided grin. 

“Fancy meeting you two here,” Ezra says. The sunlight beaming down lights up the blond patch of hair on his head perfectly. 

“You’re here every day,” Din deadpans. 

“Well Mr. Tin Man, it seems I have no place else to go, nowhere to call my own.”

Mr. Tin Man. Din’s gonna hate that nickname. In fact, you can tell he does by the way his fists are clenching and unclenching at his sides. If you want Ezra to join your crew, you’re gonna have to diffuse the situation. 

“He was joking. You were joking, right Din?” you say, nudging Din with your elbow. 

“Yep.”

This is never going to work. 

“Listen, Ezra, we were wondering if… you wanted to join our crew?”

“Really?”

“Yeah but not for free. You have to put in work like we do,” Din buts in. 

“I ain’t no mooch, Mr. Tin Man or should I say Din.”

“You’d have to help if the Razor Crest needed repairs, or if we needed to gain intel for a bounty, or if we had to go shopping for supplies, or-”

“I can offer protection,” Ezra says. 

“I have that covered,” Din says matter-of-factly. 

“Are you in?” you ask. 

Without any hesitation, Ezra says, “I’ll take you up on your philanthropic offer. Thank you for your kindness.”

“Alright then. Let’s show him the Razor Crest!” you say to Din. 

Without a word, Din turns and leads you out of the marketplace to the outskirts of town where the Razor Crest is parked. 

“Here she is!” you say, gesturing to the Crest. 

“Fine looking ship you got there, Din,” Ezra says, shooting Din a smirk. But Din doesn’t acknowledge him. Ezra turns to you and says, “Don’t think I caught your name, little birdie.”

Your cheeks heat up in response to the nickname but you tell him your name. He repeats it to himself and smiles as Din lowers the ramp to the Razor Crest. You show Ezra around the Crest and it seemed so spacious up until now…

“One question for ya, Din. Where am I supposed to sleep?”

This is the third time he’s used Din’s name in the short time you’ve known each other. You should’ve never let it slip. You should’ve just referred to him as Mando in front of Ezra because you know under the helmet Din is physically recoiling every time Ezra says his name. 

“Hammocks?” you suggest, looking up at the metal ceiling. 

“That’s ridiculous,” Din says. 

“Well, what do you suggest?” you ask.

“Two people can fit in the bunk and one person can sleep in the cockpit. We can just rotate each time.”

“Aw, that’s cute, Din. You wanna cuddle up in the bunk together?” Ezra asks, putting his one arm around Din. 

You try to stifle a laugh as Din sighs and removes Ezra’s arm.

“You two can take the bunk. I’ll take the cockpit,” Din says.

“Can’t complain about that, gem,” Ezra says, shooting you a wink paired with a smirk.

“I’m going to the Guild to pick up a job. Be back later,” Din says, briskly exiting the Crest and heading off to town again.

“Is he always a real stick in the mud?” Ezra asks.

“No! No, I mean he means well. He’s just…”

“Awkward? Strict? Stiff as a board?”

“Set in his ways,” you answer.

“Think he’ll be gone a while?” Ezra asks, taking a step closer to you. 

“Probably. Karga talks a lot.”

“Better for us,” he says, slipping his arm around your waist, “I got a way to keep us busy. What do you say, gem?”

For a long time, you were attracted to Din but he never seemed to show you any signs of affection. So, you let your silly little crush die out. But here’s Ezra who has no problem showing you and telling you how much he wants you. You can’t deny that he’s attractive. His loquacious way of… never shutting up has a strange hold on you. 

“Why not?” you smirk, “Where do you want to-”

“Oh, I thought about that,” he says, pulling you to the refresher.

The door closes behind you and he says, “Bend over for me, gem.”

You do as you’re told, watching him sink to the floor in the reflection in the mirror. He pulls your pants and underwear down in one clean motion, coaxing you to spread your thighs a little. His tongue grazes your cunt, causing you to jolt a bit in shock.

“L-Like this?” you ask with a shaky breath, painfully aware of how close you are to the mirror; aware of every detail on your face as you’re being pleasured. 

“Mhm, just like that, gem. Want you to watch your pretty face as you cum,” he hums against your thigh before going back in for another lick at your cunt. 

“O-Okay,” you breathe out.

He buries his face in between your thighs, nose rubbing against your cunt. He wraps his arm around your legs, pulling you taut against his face. As he eats you out, your knees buckle underneath you. Your body shudders while pleasure builds in your core and threatens to spill over. A moan escapes your lips and you try your hardest to keep your eyes open, the tingling feeling about to break loose. But just when you’re about to cum, Ezra pulls his face back, planting kisses on the back of your thigh.

“Doin’ so good for me, gem. Makin’ all those pretty sounds for me. But you better be keepin’ those eyes open, got it?”

“Mhm,” you moan.

“Yes, sir,” he corrects, nipping at your thigh.

You let out a sharp gasp followed by a meek, “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he says against your cunt, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

He returns to licking, lapping, and pleasuring your cunt. Soon enough, the small refresher is filled with your moans and squelching, wet sounds of Ezra eating you out. And this time, he lets you have it– your orgasm. Your cunt flutters around nothing, muscles contracting and releasing erratically. Your wetness soaks his face and your knees threaten to fully give out underneath you. 

Once you’re done coming, he rises from the floor, helping you stay stable on your feet before you reach down to pull up your pants. Before you can even address what just happened, you hear the sound of the Razor Crest’s exit ramp being lowered. You hastily grab a towel and hand it to Ezra to wipe his face before dashing out of the refresher. Din catches the tail end of both of you leaving, tilting his helmet to the side. 

“Oh, I was just showing him how to use the refresher,” you say quickly as Din seals the Crest.

“They don’t work like that where I’m from,” Ezra says, “And we usually just call ‘em bathrooms.”

“Bathrooms?” Din says, thinking nothing of you and Ezra being cramped into the small refresher together. 

“Bathrooms,” Ezra affirms.

“That makes no sense. You’re not taking a bath every time you go in there,” Din says, walking past Ezra towards the ladder to the cockpit.

“That’s just what we call ‘em,” Ezra shrugs.

“So, did you pick up a job?” you ask, changing the subject.

“Mhm. We’re off to Tatooine tomorrow,” he says, climbing up the ladder and getting settled in the cockpit.

“Oh, okay… Well, goodnight,” you call up to him.

“G’night, Din,” Ezra says.

Ezra shoots you a suggestive smirk as both of you head to the bunk, crawling into the cramped space. You both rest on your sides, his body pressed up against yours. You just assumed you would go to sleep now, but the bulge poking your ass says otherwise.

“What do you say we pick up where we left off?” Ezra whispers in your ear. 

“Sounds good to me” you giggle.

He shifts to the edge of the cot, resting on his knees.

“Hands and knees, gem,” he commands.

You move to rest on all fours. Ezra hastily pulls your pants and underwear down again, just low enough for him to gain access to your cunt that’s still soaked. You shudder as his hand collects some of your wetness, slathering his cock and thrusting into you. A deep moan escapes your lips, prompting Ezra to say, “Shh, gem. Can’t let the tin man hear us.”

You nod and bite your lip, doing your best to stay quiet as Ezra rails you. His cock expands your walls with each thrust, hitting the deepest, most pleasurable angles inside you. It’s been so long since you’d had sex since working with Din and your body needed this. Ezra feels your cunt clench around him, knowing you’re on the edge of release.

He leans forward, whispering in your ear, “Gonna cum for me already, gem?”

“Mhm,” you whisper, choking back a moan.

“Do it,” he softly commands, slamming his lips into you.

You cum around his cock, reveling in the feeling of being full finally. Your orgasm triggers his own, spilling his cum inside you. He does his best to bite back his sounds of pleasure as he pants your walls, thrusting into you one final time before pulling out. You collapse against the bunk, truly spent. Ezra returns to his position beside you, pulling up your pants as you nestle yourself against him.

“Get some sleep, gem. You had a big night,” Ezra whispers.

You nod and feel sleep start to settle in but before you’re out, you whisper, “Welcome to the team, Ez.”

He chuckles against you, kissing your head before the both of you fall asleep.

-

That night was the start of your sexual relationship with Ezra. You two found time to fit in sex whenever Din wasn’t around, which was hard. Especially considering the cramped nature of the Razor Crest. There were a few close calls, times where you both were convinced Din caught you. But he never said anything, continuing like normal. So, you and Ezra told yourselves you were in the clear. 

That couldn’t be farther from the truth. The reality is that Din had caught you. He just didn’t make his presence known until you were done. He would hide quietly, listening to the way you were being fucked in his bunk. It made his cock twitch in his fight suit. He would listen to your moans in the refresher, listen to the way you rode Ezra’s cock in the cockpit– he listened to it all. Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled his cock out, stroking it as he eavesdropped on you and Ezra. But he could never bring himself to tell you that he caught you, wanting to keep his dirty little secret to himself. As far as he was concerned, you were getting off and so was he. Why mess up a good system; a well-oiled machine?

It’s been a few standard weeks since Ezra joined the crew. Din’s walking back from the Guild, bounty puck in hand with your next destination. He thinks about how you and Ezra are probably glued to each other right now. The thought makes his cock hard but now’s not the time. It’s time to head to Sorgan. 

He lowers the exit ramp and heads inside, just like always you and Ezra are far away from each other but sweaty and flustered as if you hastily pulled yourselves apart. 

“Get ready to take off,” Din says.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“Sorgan,” he replies.

“Never been,” you say, climbing up the ladder to the cockpit. Ezra follows behind you, sitting in one of the passenger seats. 

“It’s a primitive place. But I have contacts there. Maybe we can all sleep in a real bed before heading back to Nevarro,” Din says. 

“You know someone there?” you ask as Din prepares the Crest for takeoff.

“Yep. The kid and I stayed with a nice widow for a few weeks,” Din says, turning to look at you.

An unreadable expression washes over your face as you think about what he just said. He doesn’t quite understand what’s so confusing about what he told you but he turns his chair back to the control panel and takes off.

The truth is… you’re seething with jealousy. What do you mean he stayed with a widow? For a few weeks, too. Your mind is already going to the worst possible conclusion– that he fucked that widow. And you couldn’t be more jealous; couldn’t be more mad at him. You’ve been practically throwing yourself at him since you started working together. When he didn’t pick up on your advances, you just assumed he wasn’t a very sexual person. But he can stay with a woman for weeks at a time?? And feel comfortable enough to reconnect with her again?? You’re pissed.

You look out the window into the abyss of space, saying nothing more for the rest of the journey. 

-

Once Din lands on Sorgan he sets off to capture the bounty, leaving you and Ezra alone in the Crest. 

“We’ll head into the village when I’m back,” Din says, turning and leaving, his cape billowing in the wind. 

You say nothing, sitting on a crate in the storage area of the Crest with your arms folded. Ezra sits beside you, hand running up your thigh.

“Wanna get busy?” he asks suggestively.

“No. Not in the mood,” you say coldly.

Ezra moves to the floor, kneeling before you and looking up at you.

“What’s wrong, gem? You’ve been so quiet ever since Din told us we were coming here.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you grumble.

“Don’t be cryptic with me, gem. I know you’re bothered by something,” he says softly.

“Fine,” you sigh, “I’m just… jealous.”

“About the widow?”

“Yeah… How’d you know?”

“Figured as much. Anyone with a set of eyes can see you have feelings for Din.”

“It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t feel the same way.”

“Now now. You don’t know that for sure. I get the sense that the tin man isn’t… in touch with his feelings.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right about that,” you chuckle.

“All I know is that I’m real fond of you, gem,” he says, interlocking his hand with yours.

“I know… I feel the same way… Which is why I should just forget about him,” you decide. You lean forward and kiss him before deciding to spend your time just leaning against each other on the crates.

Soon enough, Din returns with the bounty, a big, burly human male. He shoves the bounty into the carbonite freezer before leading the way to the village. As you walk there, Ezra says, “You know… This place isn’t too much different than the Green.”

“How so?” you ask.

“The forest,” he says.

“Is it nice? You know, to be reminded of the Green?”

“Not really. The air was toxic and I was stranded there for Kevva knows how long.”

“Kevva?” you ask.

“Kevva is like… the Maker for your folk.”

“Oh, okay,” you say, not asking any more questions. The more you learn about him and where he came from the more confused you get. 

Eventually, you reach the outskirts of the village and as soon as people notice Din, they swarm him.

“The Mandalorian is back!”

“He came back for us!”

“Does he have the baby?”

Groups of men, women, and children surround him. But one woman with long dark hair just smiles softly at him, approaching him once the commotion dies down. You assume this has to be the widow by the way she seems so enamored with him. 

“Welcome back,” she says. Once she’s noticed you and Ezra she says, “And you brought friends.”

He introduces you and Ezra to the woman and you learn her name is Omera.

“No Cara this time?” she asks.

Another woman? What the kriff??

“No Cara this time,” he affirms. 

“Well you’re still welcomed here just the same,” she says.

The sun is starting to set and the sky is turning brilliant shades of pink and purple. 

“If it’s not too much trouble, could we stay here for the night before we leave in the morning?”

“Of course,” she says, turning and leading you further into the village. Watching them interact makes your stomach swirl with jealousy but you try to remind yourself of what Ezra said earlier. But it’s not hard to react to the way she smiles at him, the way she grabs his arm, and the way he seems so comfortable with her. 

“How much space do you need? I assume you want a place for yourself so you can remove your helmet,” she says as you walk. 

“Two huts would be fine. Thank you,” Din says. She nods and leads you to the first one, giving it to you and Ezra.

“See you in the morning, tin man,” Ezra says, bidding Din goodnight. Omera chuckles at the nickname and leads Din to his hut. Your fists clench and unclench at your sides as you watch them disappear deeper into the village.

“Come on, gem,” Ezra says, grabbing your hand and bringing you into the hut. There are two cots inside you know you’ll only need one. You sit down on one of them and Ezra sits beside you. 

“Let’s get busy,” Ezra purrs in your ear.

You shiver and say, “Kriff yes,” palming the growing bulge in Ezra’s pants. You move to the floor, kneeling before him. But Ezra stands up, wanting to tower over you as you suck him off. You pull his cock out of his pants, cupping his balls and kissing his groin. He groans and throws his head back in pleasure, reaching his arm up to one of the wood beams on the ceiling. You take him in your mouth, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and keeping the other hand cupping his balls. You suck your cheeks in and keep your tongue flat on the underside of his cock. The new, more intense sensation has him cursing under his breath. 

“Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Just like that, gem,” he moans, smirking down at you. You hum, sending waves of pleasure down his shaft. He lets out another moan, this one deeper and louder than the last. But both of you freeze when you suddenly hear a twig snap outside.

“Who’s there?” Ezra calls out. You swear you hear a modulated sigh.

“Din?”

No reply.

“Come on, Din. I know you’re there. Just come inside,” Ezra says. Before you have time to take his cock out of your mouth and protest, Din enters the hut with a bulge in his flight suit.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Ezra laughs. You take his cock out of your mouth and keep your gaze off of Din. Ezra notices the bulge in Din’s flight suit, too, and puts two and two together.

“How long you been spyin’ on us?”

“Wait what?” you ask, looking up at Ezra and glancing over at Din. 

“What? I have not. I-” Din starts but Ezra cuts him off.

“Might as well tell the truth. Get everything out on the table,” Ezra smirks.

“For the past few weeks,” Din admits.

Your mouth falls open in shock. It’s only been a few weeks since Ezra joined your crew. Has he been listening in on you this whole time?

“Well, stop watching and join us,” Ezra says.

You look back up at Ezra, prompting him to add, “Well only if it’s okay with you, gem. Though I’m sure you’ve been waiting for this…”

“Waiting?” Din asks.

“Oh, yeah. This one’s been pining for you from the start. You’ve just been too dumb to notice. That helmet must be too thick,” Ezra chuckles.

“You have?” Din asks, his visor fixed on you.

You’re too embarrassed to answer so Ezra does for you. 

“She’s wanted you this whole time, tin man. Just fix this by joining us.”

Ezra lets go of the wooden beam above him and reaches down to grab your chin. 

“Think you took care of me long enough, gem. What do you say I eat that pretty pussy of yours?” Ezra says, swiping away the mixture of his pre-cum and your saliva dripping down your chin with his thumb. 

You nod and rise from the floor, shedding your clothes. You lie down on the cot, goosebumps prickling your skin as both men tower over you. Ezra moves to the foot of the cot and kneels, hooking his arms around your thighs and pulling you into his face. He moans at your taste, licking at your wet cunt while Din stands by your side, stroking his cock. You look over at it and somehow it’s everything you imagined it would be; long, thick, and uncut. Pre-cum beads at the head of Din’s cock, spreading down his shaft as he strokes himself. You pull your gaze from Din as Ezra flicks his tongue around your clit, looking up at you with a mischievous look in his eye. He pulls away for a second to kiss your thigh and tease Din because he can truly never shut up.

“Bet you wish you could have a taste, don’t you, Din?”

Din lets out a strained moan, cursing under his breath.

“Yes…” he admits.

“Let me help you out with that,” Ezra smirks.

Ezra slides two fingers into you without warning, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. He curls his fingers before pulling them out, taking a large amount of your wetness with them. He stands and walks over to Din, holding his hand out.

“Try it for yourself,” Ezra says slyly, “You don’t have to take off your helmet. I know you got a creed and all.”

With a shaky hand, Din lifts his helmet, just enough to expose his mouth. You feel rude trying to sneak a glance but how can you not watch Din sucking your wetness off of Ezra’s fingers. Ezra places his fingers in Din’s mouth, watching as he tastes your slick. He pulls his fingers from Din’s mouth and Din lowers his helmet again.

“What do you think? Tastes real good, doesn’t it?” Ezra says.

“So sweet,” Din moans. 

“See, gem. Look what you do to us,” Ezra chuckles, returning to his place on the floor.

He swirls his tongue around your clit and replaces his fingers inside you. You look back over at Din whose gaze is fixed on you, hand wrapped around his cock, jerking off to the sigh of Ezra eating you out. You cum hard against Ezra’s face and hand, moaning so pretty for both of your men. Ezra moans at the feeling of his face getting soaked, letting you ride out your orgasm on his fingers before pulling them out of you. He stands and looks over at Din. 

“You fuck her since I’ve been doing it this whole time already,” Ezra says. 

Din nods and takes Ezra's place at the foot of the cot. You inch up a bit so he has room to situate himself between your thighs. He thrusts into you slowly, face to face with his visor. You gasp as he expands your walls, his cock burying itself deeper and deeper inside you. The modulated moans slipping out from under his helmet only make you more and more turned on. He slams his hips into you repeatedly, building up your pleasure higher until it feels like it’s coming to a head. Off to the side, you hear Ezra jerking off and moaning but you keep your eyes locked on Din and the way he’s fucking you relentlessly.

“Din, I’m gonna cum,” you moan. 

“Let me feel it, cyar’ika,” he commands. 

With one final slam of his hips into you, you’re coming around his cock. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes as he fucks you through your high. He cums, too, his orgasm triggered by the way you convulse around him. His thrusts become sloppier until he stops, waiting until every last drop of his cum is released inside you. He pulls out and stands up, looking down at your cunt and the mess you made. 

“That was quite a show you two put on,” Ezra says, still standing beside you and stroking his cock, “Think you can help me out here, gem?”

You nod and sit up, taking his cock in your mouth. It doesn’t take long for him to cum. He brought himself to the brink of orgasm watching Din fuck you. You swallow his release, taking on the other man’s cum. But once he’s done he pulls himself out of your mouth and smirks at the both of you.

“That was a long time coming,” he says, sitting down on the other cot.

You lie down on the cot and try to catch your breath, exhausted from the evening’s activities. 

“You need to rest, cyar’ika,” Din says, kneeling beside you.

“Stay with us,” Ezra says.

“Yeah, Din, stay with us,” you plead, making room for him on the cot.

He pauses for a moment but ultimately decides he wants to sleep with you, wanting to feel your body pressed up against his.

“Why not?” he says, scooching in beside you.

“Same time tomorrow night?” Ezra asks.

“Sounds good to me,” you say.

“Deal,” Din says.

“Goodnight, team!” Ezra chuckles. 

And with that, you all fall asleep satisfied with the night’s events and happy that the tension has finally dissipated. 

End note: Lmao it was the part where Ezra gathers the readers wetness on his fingers and Din lifts up his helmet slightly to get a taste ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

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[netherfeildren]

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Joel Miller is one of them.

-OR-

Sarah’s gone and Joel wants to feel close to her again. He reconnects with someone he used to know along the way.

I urge you: Bite me : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Sometimes love hurts like a split nail, and sometimes we like it like that.

Sometimes Joel hurts like a split nail, you like him like that too. 

With Mercy for the Disturbed : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: He's a father and then he isn't, and then he's in the perfect place with the perfect girl, and he's done so many bad things that terrify the both of them. And then, finally, he's saved and there are dancing bears and doors newly opened, and everyone's a little mad at the end of it all.

-OR-

the Hannibal/Alice in Wonderland AU wherein Joel loses his mind

Evermore : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: The Thanksgiving AU

Meet Me in the New Year : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: The New Year’s Eve AU

10:05 PM : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel is exhausted, you’re there to make him feel better.

How to Endure Ardor : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel teaches you how to love him.

At the Restaurant : Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: It’s three days til Christmas, and you’ve never known want like this, and his eyes are glossy with emotion and everything he won’t ever let himself tell you or anyone else, and you so badly want to tell him that it’s only that it’s hard to be casual when your favorite bra lives in his dresser, and also that you’re in love with him.

-OR-

the Christmas situationship AU

Forfeiting My Mystique : Ezra x F!Reader

Summary: You're a girl made of golden gossamer, a work of art come to life, and Ezra, well, he's dedicated his life to collecting beautiful things.

-OR-

An Ezra Art Collector AU

Austerlitz : Simon (Ghost) Riley x F!Reader

Summary: The day he left for his hideous war, the dream changed. The house was still there, but now neither of us lived in it anymore. And when he finally came back, if that’s what you could even call it, he was nothing but a Ghost. 

-OR-

Ghost goes away, comes back in a maybe dream.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel tlou #pedro pascal characters #joel x reader #joel miller/you #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect x reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #joel miller fanfiction #din djarin x you #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #call of duty fanfic #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader

[palioom]

day two - titfucking

pairing: ezra x f!reader word count: 723 warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; ezra only has one arm; titfucking, lowkey spit kink, ezra is obsessed with boobs, cum play, cum eating

• kinktober 2023 masterlist •

Ezra had been worked up all day already, unable to tear his eyes away from her. The way she looked in that tight turtleneck shirt, her breasts perfectly on display for him, seeing her perky nipples poke through the thin material. Stiff because of how fucking cold it was up here, taking a rest in between prospecting gigs to sell some stones and stock up on food and utensils again.

Trying to get her to come back to their ship the whole time, always brushed off by her because they had shit to get done. She had very well noticed his eyes glued to her chest and she had just waited for his hand to reach out and grope one.

But now that they were finally back on their small ship, his hand immediately wrangled the hem of her shirt out of her pants, pointedly looking at her to just fucking help him out here.

She did, pressing her lips onto his as she quickly took off her top, her bra following right after. It was still difficult for him to accept the loss of one arm, but he was getting better with each passing day.

Knowing exactly his mood would improve the moment he got to slide his rock hard cock in between her pretty tits.

His hand was on her naked breast right away, groping and pinching her nipple, guiding her backwards towards the small kitchen table and pushing her down onto a chair.

“Squeeze them together for me, my gem.” He rasped, fiddling with the buckle of his belt, swiftly taking his cock out. Ezra had become quite good at that, wasting no time as he presented it to her, letting her spit dribble all over it so he could give himself a few pumps.

Groaning at the feeling of his calloused hand around himself, watching how she pressed her breasts together, some of the spit dripping onto them.

“No prettier gems than these in the whole galaxy.” He chuckled, positioning himself so his cock was in between them, unable to keep his hips still, already thrusting on their own. “Certainly none softer than these.”

A giggle left her, moving her breasts up and down in time with his thrusts, letting more spit dribble onto her skin to help him.

The sight of his dick poking out between them and then vanishing over and over again was mesmerizing, her eyes glued to the display right in front of her while Ezra made all these wonderful sounds above her. Rambling along as he picked up some speed, his hand digging into her shoulder for purchase.

“Oh, Kevvar.” He moaned, trying hard to keep his eyes on her beautiful tits, but only wanting to throw his head back in pleasure. This was so much better after having waited all day for it, her skin so soft, the mess of her spit exciting him. “My sweet gem, open your mouth for me. I want to cum onto your tongue.”

So close already, his hips stuttering when she did as he asked her. A smile on her lips as she opened her mouth obediently, almost like she wanted to taunt him, spur him on.

“Make a mess on my tits, Ezra.” She cooed, batting her lashes at him. The desperation in his eyes had her squeeze her thighs together, hoping to ride her own frustrations out on him later. “Please, cum for me, baby.”

His fingers curled into her shoulder as he came with a low grunt, watching his cum cover her chest, some landing on her tongue. Humming at the salty taste, she waited until his dick had stopped twitching to swallow what little had made it into her mouth with a grin.

Ezra slumped into the chair behind him, breathlessly taking in the mess he had caused on her chest, the spit and the cum mixing as she let go of her breasts, swiping some up with a finger and sucking it clean.

“Oh, my pretty gem.” He breathed, chuckling quietly. She really was a sight, with her grin and her glistening skin. “I could lay my cock in the valley of your breasts for all eternity, watch the mess I create.”

Utterly obsessed with her breasts, even more so than her pussy. And she couldn’t say that she minded one bit.

#ezra #ezra prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fandom #my writing #kinktober 2023

[fake-bleach]

fallen star | darkish!ezra x reader

summary: You're lost, alone, and looking for your family in the middle of a planet you know absolutely nothing about. That's until you encounter a man who offers to help you, giving you more than you bargained for.

word count: 9k (crazy i know oops)

warnings: (18+ only!) fem!afab!reader (no use of y/n), bit of a slow burn but not rly, dub-con smut (ezra convinces reader to give in), kinda manipulative/creepy ezra, unprotected sex, virgin!reader & is innocent as hell so.. innocence kink?, age gap (but reader is of legal age & an adult ofc), piv (pls use protection), fingering, foreplay, nipple play, crying from pleasure, slight spit kink, size kink, breeding kink, praise, degrading, dirty talk, all that good, filthy shit - lmk if i missed anything!

author's note: hi all! this is the first official writing i've ever done so please feel free to give me any suggestions, notes, etc! i've been so inspired by the incredible writers on this app, such as @mypoisonedvine & @toxicanonymity's fics & wanted to give it a try for myself! i'd appreciate it so much if you could let me know if you'd like more from me as well! hope you all enjoy <3

ao3 link | masterlist

The heat and humidity sticks to your skin while you run, desperation seething through your teeth as you take a deep breath. You inhale sharply as you finally take a break to sit on the ground. The bright, green scenery around you consumes you as you look around frantically, having seen the same trees and leaves over and over again. You're practically running in circles at this point.

You're stuck, and quite frankly, losing hope.

You've lost your family amidst this strange, new planet, as your father convinced you and the rest of your family that there would be hope to discover new materials and minerals that you'd be able to sell. You all would be rich and finally 'comfortable', not having to live off of the things you'd be feeding off on day by day, as your father said..

What a load of shit.

You're unsure of where exactly your family had gone, as you woke up two mornings ago to an empty tent; the "home" that provided you no privacy for the past few weeks, whatsoever. Since then, you've been on the search for them. They're all you've ever known, and despite the immense pressure and burden you've had on your shoulders for being the eldest sibling, you needed them.

You've never been out in the real world on your own. At least, not without your father to help guide you and provide reassurance in what you were taught to do.. what you had to do. You were completely dumbfounded and unsure of what you'd do next in this planet you hardly knew of, and to your knowledge, barely had any population.

The solitude you've experienced the past 48 hours has been torturous to say the least, and the scraps of food you were luckily able to find were running low already. You were getting tired already. How could you survive if you could barely last a day?

As you catch your breath, you begin to stand back up, prepared to continue on your journey and in hopes of finding more food and water. To your advantage and luck, this planet was breathable, giving you one less problem to worry about. As you lift yourself up back on your feet, you hear the crunch of a branch around you.

You quickly turn your head towards the sound as your breath hitches, your heart racing a bit faster. Your mind wanders to the worst case scenario, unsure of what might be out there. You weren't even sure if there were any creatures or other dangerous species out here.

The one thing you did know was that there were dangerous people out there. There was that constant reminder in the back of your mind, engrained from the repeated lectures that your dad gave you as you grew up.

"Sure, there are monsters out there, honey.. but it's the humans that'll get ya for good. They're the real monsters."

With his words roaming around in your head, you slowly take a step back as you continue to frantically look around, seeing nothing but the same leaves, trees, and branches filled in your eyes. You lick your lips nervously, clearing your throat to prepare yourself to sound tougher than you look.

"Who's there?" You yell out harshly, showing that you're no one to mess with. But to the unknown force watching you, it's not convincing one bit.

Silence fills your ears as nothing responds to you. No voice, no steps.. not a single sound. You take a long pause before you start to open your mouth again, until you see something out the corner of your eye move closer, yet subtly towards you.

Quickly whipping your head around to look towards that direction, you gasp faintly as you see a man approach you slowly. His hands are up, almost in a surrender. "Hey, hey, now.. no need to be afraid.." he says softly to you. The accent that his voice lets out consumes your ears as you take a step back, your eyes looking over him, taking in his presence. He's the first person you've seen in the past 48 hours and you're shocked, and more notably, afraid.

"Step back.. Stay away." You let out sternly, grabbing your small switchblade from your pocket to aim it towards him, trying to prevent him from getting any closer.

He was a tall man with messy, black hair, and a patch of white leaking towards the front. He seemed exhausted, looking at you with hazy eyes and on the brink of passing out. "P-Please, girl.. just need some help, I swear," He says as he licks his dry lips, breathing in harshly, "Been out on my own for a couple of days now.. and I'd assume.. you've been on your own, too."

You scoff as you shake your head quickly, denying the fact of the matter, "N-No, sir, you'd be wrong. I'm just getting back to my family, that's all. I can't.. I can't help you." You tell him as you glance around, a small brink of hope in your chest telling you that your family would be right there. But, you knew deep down, that would never be the case.

You look back at the man in front of you as his hand reaches towards yours, gesturing you to put the switchblade down, "Come on now, no need to do that. We can stick together, huh? I can help you get back to your family, you can help me get some food and supplies.. How's that sound? Keep each other some company, yeah? Then I'll be out of your way.." He tells you with a soft chuckle, a small grin forming on his lips in hopes of you to agree.

You back up a bit more before feeling your back hit a tree, making you sigh harshly as you lick your lips, thinking of what you should do. Your mind races as you think of all the possibilities that can come out of this. If this man was genuine and just needed some company and a bit of help.. he might be able to help you get back to your family.

As long as you kept your distance from him, you'd be okay.. and you would be able to finally find them. You wouldn't have to worry about being on your own anymore.

You look at him with stern eyes as you begin to reply, the grip of your hand on the switchblade tightening, "I don't even know you. You're a stranger. What makes you think I could trust you?" Your voice is a bit shaky as you speak, unsure on what decision you should make.

"That's right, birdie.. I'm a stranger, I know, but I guarantee you that I'm only tryin' to help you. You help me out too, and we'd be doing each other a favor. Killing two birds with one stone, if you will.." He proposes to you, his voice a bit gentle and soft as he tries to persuade you into joining him, giving you a small smile. "You just.. gotta put a bit of faith in me, that's all. I'm sure a pretty girl like you's got a nice heart, hm? We can help each other."

He nods at you as he finishes, taking a step towards you with his hand reaching closer to your switchblade. You breathe out faintly as you nod back at him, slowly bringing your hand back down to the side of your body. You flip the switchblade back and insert it into your pocket, your eyes never leaving his.

You bite your lip nervously as your heart begins to relax a bit, relenting, "I.. Okay, let's say I say yes.. What's in it for me? What makes you reliable in helping me? You said you needed my help too.. what would I be doing for you?"

The shakiness in your voice is evident as he stares at you intently, his eyes focused on you. He chuckles softly, explaining himself to you, "Well, birdie, I know this entire planet like the back of my hand. At least this entire area, that's for sure. More importantly, I know where we can stay for the night. I can give you some food.. a nice, warm place to sleep in.." He lets on, his grin widening as he notices your eyes soften at his words.

He can tell that you're exhausted, the hunger in your stomach increasing as every second passes. He knows what you need.

"Seems to me like you want that, don't you, honey? I can give you that.." He continues as he smiles at you. He seems genuine, even if you can't sense the obscure tone in it. "Just asking for your company, that's all.. that's all I want from you."

You breathe out through your nose, taking in the words he was saying. You're conflicted as your mind races with your fathers' words flooding through your head. But, you know you won't make it out here alone, especially not through another night of wandering on your own without any food or water.

Desperation is getting the best of you.

You gulp and reluctantly nod your head at him, ultimately agreeing to his offer. "Alright, fine, but we're keeping to ourselves, okay? There's no need for us to.. get to know each other or anything like that. You're helping me get back to my family, I'm giving you the 'company' you want: That's it." You establish the ground rules, letting him know that you want nothing else from him.

The man slightly shakes his head at you, poking his tongue against his cheek for a second. He laughs softly and nods, saying, "Alright, birdie. You got yourself a deal. But the least you could do is tell me your name, right? Here, I'll go first.. I'm Ezra."

Putting a name to the face, your eyes soften a bit as you stare at him. Ezra. You acknowledge it and nod your head, taking a pause before telling him your own name.

His mouth forms a bright smile, presenting his nice teeth to you, repeating your name on his tongue. "Lovely to meet you, sweetheart. Now, let me lead the way. Shouldn't take too long." He tells you enthusiastically, looking over at you while he proceeds his way east.

The sun's down by the time you reach the destination that Ezra's led you to. By the time you get there, your mind is hazy, the exhaustion and hunger getting to you with each step you take. Your eyes widen as they lay on the site in front of you; a decent sized tent that seemed much more impressive than the "home" you had with your family for the past few weeks.

Ezra's voice fills your ears, breaking the silence around you outside as he approaches the front of the tent, looking over at you with a grin. "Here we are, honey. Home sweet home." He tells you, licking his lips as he makes his way into it, beckoning you to follow him.

And you do. You follow behind him eagerly, impatiently expecting everything he's promised you: food and a nice, warm place to sleep in. Once you enter the tent, he turns on a lamp that fills the space with light. You're immediately looking around, taking in and cherishing the fact that you're actually somewhere that's remotely cozy and comfortable, just how a home should be.

"Do you like it?" He asks you softly, making his way behind you as you look around with curious eyes. You nod your head, giving him a small smile despite your inability to trust him too much. "It's.. really nice. Thanks, Ezra." You tell him, licking your lips as you pull your eyes away from him to set your bag of things in one of the corners.

The tent has almost everything you'd need in a basic home and it's impressive, to say the least. A small table for you to sit and eat at, a tiny kitchen area, and a decent sized bed that fit perfectly in the corner of it.

You turn your head back towards him, his eyes already wandering over you in curiosity. You ask him eagerly, yet collected, "So.. I was promised food? Can I get that now.. please?" You're trying not to have an attitude, seemingly as this man was kind enough to take you in, but you're starving.

Ezra smiles at you and nods, waving his hand towards his direction to gesture you to come over to him. While he walks towards a decently sized bin, he speaks to you, saying, "Don't got too much here, but it should be more than enough for the both of us the next few days. We'll go out looking for more soon."

You nod and follow him, eagerly looking over his shoulder as he kneels down to open up the bin. It's filled with packs of little food that are meant to get you through a tough journey or for you to get by, but it's definitely not anything special. By all means, food is food and you were more than happy to get what you could.

"Thank you, Ezra, I appreciate it," You say to him kindly as he grabs two bags for you, looking up at you while he places them in your eager hands. He nods at you and gives you that kind smile again, making you grin back at him.

As he grabs his own bags, he closes the bin and stands back up, motioning you to sit with him at the table.

When the two of you sit, you immediately open up the bags and nearly devour your food, your stomach growling in the process of your meal.

You hear a small chuckle as you eat and you look back up at him, mouth full of food. "Slow down, sweetheart. It's not goin' anywhere, don't you worry," He tells you, all while he calmly takes bites of his food, clearly cherishing it more than you are. "The faster you eat, the less you'll enjoy it, you know? Better to eat slow so it fills you up real good." He finishes.

You sigh as you nod at him, agreeing and taking in his advice. You hadn't realized that maybe you should be cherishing what you're getting right now, rather than indulging yourself in it so quickly.

Looking down at your hands, you sigh, apologizing to him. "Sorry.. I've just been so hungry. Thank you.. again. I really am grateful." You finish with a small smile at him, continuing to slowly eat your food and taking in the flavors that were satisfying your palette.

The both of you ate in silence, simply enjoying each other's company. As much as you hated to admit it, you liked knowing that you had someone with you, regardless of who it was. And from the few hours you've spent with Ezra, he seemed like the right person to be with.

As the two of you finish eating, you're satisfied, and definitely a lot more happier than you were before. You were just ready to end the day and get a good night's rest, exhausted from the relentless journey you were on.

You yawn softly as you shut your eyes, bringing your hand to your mouth to cover it up. Ezra looks at you attentively, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips once you remove your hand. You didn't notice that, though.

He then chuckles at you and shakes his head, smiling widely, "Ready to go to sleep now, birdie? You can have the bed tonight." He tells you, the kindness in his voice seeping through.

You look at him with soft eyes, eyebrows furrowing, "No, no, it's okay, I can sleep on the floor. You're the one who got this place and took me here.. you deserve the bed." You tell him earnestly, unable to accept his offer. Sure, it's just a bed, but he deserved to sleep well tonight too.

Ezra just shakes his head at you and laughs faintly, "No, you take the bed. I take the floor. Don't you worry, we'll have time to make it work.." He lets out, chuckling.

You aren't too sure what he means by that.

You ignore it though, just giving him a small smile instead. He was just being kind, and you were grateful for it.

Nodding your head, you reluctantly give in and sigh out, "Okay, just tonight though, alright? I'll be out of your hair eventually, anyway." He just grins at you as he takes in your words, his eyes never leaving your face.

"Right.. it's just a couple of days." He murmurs out, glancing around the room, pursing his lips. He looks back to you and nods, getting up from his seat as he gives you a grin, "Alright, time for bed, darlin'. You need some privacy?" He asks.

Getting up from your seat as well, you nod your head, slowly moving towards your bag. "Yeah, that'd be great, thanks Ezra. I'll let you know when I'm done." You tell him.

He acknowledges your request and walks out the tent, zipping it up securely. You take your spare clothes out of your bag, beginning to change into the comfortable pajamas; the only ones you had left.

You don't feel the eyes on you, staring at your every move.

Getting ready to go to sleep, Ezra's changed into some comfortable clothes as well. He sets up a small area for him to sleep in, right next to the bed that you'll be taking. As he does so, you sit on the bed, staring at his movements.

Still feeling a bit guilty about the bed, you tell him, "Are.. are you sure you're okay sleeping down there? What if you get cold.. or something?" You ask him, gradually starting to care for him more than you hoped or expected to.

He glances up at you, sitting up on his knees as he lets go of the sleeping bag, shaking his head. "Honey, stop asking. This isn't the first time I've slept on the floor, and besides.. it's much more comfortable than you'd think," He replies to you, grinning at your concerns for him, "Don't you worry about me, alright?"

You sigh and nod your head at him, giving into his request to let it go.

"Alright.. goodnight then, Ezra. Thank you, again." You let out tiredly, giving him a final smile. You moved yourself towards the edge of the bed that was facing the wall of the tent, preferring to sleep where you weren't so exposed to any open part of the bed.

"Goodnight, sweetheart." Ezra says, turning off the lamp in the tent before he gives you a final glance.

You turn to your side to shut your eyes, putting your hands underneath the side of your head as extra support from the pillow. You were comfortable, more comfortable than you've been in the past month.

You hear shuffling down on the floor, Ezra moving around in his sleeping bag as he tries to get comfortable enough to be able to doze off.

A couple of minutes go by as you attempt to fall asleep, failing everytime while your body shivers. You had a blanket over you, but it wasn't enough. There seemed to be a constant drift of wind from the outside coming inside the tent, making the heat in your body gradually fade away.

You sighed frustratingly as you softly whispered to Ezra, hoping he was still awake. "Ezra.. is the tent open?" You asked him, wondering if he forgot to close it all the way.

You hear his rough voice, whispering back to you, "No, honey, it's closed.. You cold?" He asks back, leaning up on his arm to look at you.

Turning your head and body towards him, you nod your head and sigh, "Yeah.. sorry, I can't sleep like this.." You let out, annoyed at yourself. You've already asked for so much from him and you were sure he just wanted to sleep already.

He grins at you and begins to get up slowly, saying, "Don't apologize, birdie.. It's hard to sleep when it's so cold," He breathes out, the silence in the room deafening you besides his course voice, "Why don't I come up there? Keep you warm for the night.. I promise it'll help you fall asleep."

You swallow as you think of it, unsure if you should let him be so close to you that way, so quick into your acquaintance. You were so cold though, as your fatigue ran through your body and all you wanted to do was sleep.

So, you agreed. What else was there to lose?

"Okay.. just for tonight." You murmur out, gesturing for him to come on the bed as he nods at you. You lay back down on your side, facing the wall of the tent as you move the blanket so he can have some too.

You feel him get on the bed, the weight and smell of him consuming you just from being right next to you. His hands move the blanket up to lay it on top of himself, sighing contently as he feels the warmth of the both of you surround his cold body in just a few seconds.

A couple of minutes later, as you're gradually starting to doze off, you feel arms wrap around your body, their strong hold pulling you by your waist. Ezra's chest presses into your back, his crotch just below your rear as you gasp softly, the intrusion of physical contact suddenly waking you up and energizing you.

You turn your head slightly to try to look at him, but before you open your mouth to say anything, he cuts you off. "Shh, honey.. just to make you feel a bit warmer. There's no harm in that. Physical contact creates warmth.. you know that, right?" He mumbles to you, just enough to be coherent as you furrow your eyebrows, conflicted by this.

You had just met the man and he was already holding you this close.

You sigh out and breathe softly, saying, "Okay.. I guess you're right," continuing to let him hold you. It starts to feel kind of nice, the warmth in your body increasing as you're both huddled so close together.

As you start to relax again, you press the side of your head to the pillow, allowing yourself to shut your eyes gently and let the sleep take over you.

Your peace is quickly taken away though, as you feel Ezra's hand on top of your hip begin to caress your stomach, slowly moving it lower to the hem of your pajama shirt as he slips his hand underneath it. His hand begins running across your stomach, feeling you.

Gasping softly, you turn your head to look at him again, asking sharply, "What are you doing, Ezra?"

He just hums and continues, his eyes shut. "Shh, sweetheart, c'mon.. Just gonna make you feel better, alright?" He whispers out, his other hand gripping your body tighter against him as the hand on your stomach lowers itself to your pajama pants, starting to slip it underneath the fabric.

You squirm against him as you groan out harshly, "S-Stop, Ezra, stop!" You protest against him, unsure of what to do. Your eyes move around the room frantically as his arms overpower you, holding you still against his chest.

Ezra's eyes open as you squirm against him, making him laugh out faintly at your struggle. His fingers start to roam across your panties, letting them run over your core. His head moves closer to your ear, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Be quiet, honey.. just let me do this, let me make you feel good. It'll keep you warm.."

His hand slips underneath your underwear, quickly cupping your pussy with his entire hand, making him groan out as you whimper, gasping out, "Ezra, please, stop!"

He ignores your pleas, moaning into your ear as his fingers run across your lips, feeling you grow wetter by the second. "Fuck, birdie.. You feel that? You're wet for me.. you're liking this, aren't you, darlin'? It'll feel good, just trust me.." He sighs into your ear, moving his lips to your neck to kiss it softly.

You continue to shake and squirm against him, trying to kick him off of you, but it's no use. He moves his leg over your own, entrapping you against him as you feel his crotch press into your hips and waist. The hard bulge in his soft pants makes you throb, forcing a moan out of you, both from a mixture of fear and unwanted excitement.

"Don't fight me, baby. Don't fight this. It'd be much better for you if you just gave in.. it'll feel so good, sweetheart, please, let me.." He pleas into your ear, pressing two of his fingers on your cunt to find your clit.

Rubbing small circles around your lips, he hears for your moan, indicating that he's found it. He smirks widely as he continues to rub small circles on your clit, feeling you grow wetter by the second as the pressure of his movements persist.

You whine out as your body grows a bit weak, feeling the pleasure build up in your body. Your heart races as you gulp, shutting your eyes tightly. You've never had anyone in your life do this to you before.

Ezra laughs faintly as he continues his motions, "That's it, sweetheart.." He draws out, "Give in, fuck, I know you want to. Anyone ever touch you like this, baby?" He inquires, moving the hand underneath the side of your body you were laying on. He grips your stomach, right below your breasts, and moves his body to lay on his back, taking you with him. Your back lays just against Ezra's side, his left arm wrapped tightly around you, moaning out as he has more control of you like this. He kicks the thin blanket off of the both of you, giving him a view of his hand down your pants and underwear, the moonlight shining through the tent.

You whine out, shaking your head quickly as you feel the warmth grow in your stomach the more he rubs those circles on your clit. "N-No, never, no one's ever touched me like this.." You moan, gasping and panting a bit heavily as you stare down at his fingers moving furiously against you. You can't help but grow wetter at the sight, knowing that it's him who's doing this to you.. but it feels so wrong.

"What I thought, baby.. Knew this pussy was pure." He chuckles, his teasing and almost mean demeanor running through your body, making you shiver and whimper slightly. You don’t know why you like it.

He stops his movements as he slips a finger through your folds, gathering how wet you became, making him sigh out in satisfaction. He pulls his finger out to look at it, showing it to you as well. "Look at that, honey, you're so wet for me now.. Didn't I tell you how good it'd feel, huh?" He lets out as you look at the glistening finger in front of you.

He moves it to suck it into his mouth, moaning around it. Popping it out from his lips, he laughs wryly, "Tastes good too, baby," making you blush furiously. It's so dirty and makes you feel so fucked up.

He takes no time to waste and moves towards your bottoms, quickly grabbing the hem of both your pants and underwear, "Let's get these off now, honey. Wouldn't want them in the way of our fun," and pulls them quickly off of you, making the cold air hit your core.

You gasp loudly as you clench your legs together, not wanting to have him see you there, much less continue.

He looks up at you with dark eyes and places his hands on the top of your knees, warning you, "Don't you get shy on me now, sweetheart. We've already gotten this far. I don't want to make it hurt for you.. I want to make you feel good, baby.." He tells you, his voice gradually becoming softer as he finishes. His hands proceed to grip at your knees, pushing them away from each other to spread your legs for him.

You reluctantly follow his requests, knowing that it would go a lot smoother if you complied. He groans faintly as his eyes latch onto the sight of your wet cunt in front of him, taking it in completely. "Fuck, honey.. what a pretty fuckin' pussy. Gorgeous.." He tells you, the dirty words filling your ears as you blush again at them. You've never had anyone talk to you like that, nor have you even heard anyone speak in that way til’ now.

Your eyes look around the tent, wanting to look at anything else but him and yourself, the shame starting to flow through you. You feel his fingers gently spread your lips apart, making you whimper softly at the feeling. It makes you look down at him and his hands, and you move your legs to try and clench them together again.

He tuts and shakes his head, gripping your knees harshly this time as he pushes your legs away from each other, spreading you for him completely. "You do what I want, baby, and this all goes smoothly, okay? You don't, and I promise you it'll hurt for you."

His eyes are stern as he looks into your own, seeing the angriest he's been so far towards you. You nod your head gently at him, gulping nervously and not wanting to make him any more upset.

The lips on his face slowly turn upwards, grinning at you brightly, "That's a good girl.. Just be a good girl for me," He encourages you, letting his fingers run around your glistening lips again as he moans out softly. "Gonna give you a finger, okay, darlin'? I'll go slow, if that's what you want.." He proposes to you, seemingly wanting to make this enjoyable for you as well.

You nod quickly and sigh sharply, pleading him, "Y-Yes, Ezra, slow please.. Please don't make it hurt."

His smile grows fonder, knowing that he's got you where he wants you now. "Don't worry, birdie, I'll make it good for you.. Just trust me."

The index finger that's right above your clit then moves into your lips, swiping it down between your folds as you moan. He then finds your entrance, pushing it in slowly and as gently as possible, making him groan out.

You gasp softly as your jaw falls open, looking down at his finger entering you. He sighs, "Fuck, so tight, sweetheart.." as his finger then pushes all the way inside of you, thick and long. You pant as you stare at his hand, clenching around his finger. He looks up at you and smirks, lips curling up into another grin, "S'good for me, honey.. Have you ever even touched yourself?" Ezra prompts you, realizing how shocking this was for you.

You move your head to look up at him and shake your head, gasping out, "Just.. just touched myself a couple of times, but never.. put one inside," and you lick your lips, your throat becoming dry, making you gulp.

He chuckles and slips his finger out, thrusting it back into you to see you gasp again, making him laugh. "Fuck, that's hot, baby.. Pretty pussy taking my finger so well. So tight.. Think you can take more?" He asks you, his finger gradually moving faster as you grow wetter, the squelching sounds filling the space more and more.

You moan out louder as you bite your lip, nodding your head at him. It was starting to feel good, and you couldn't help but give in.. forgetting about ever wanting him to stop.

"Good fuckin' girl, birdie.. My god." He says, taking his finger out just enough for it to be outside of your entrance. He presses his index and middle finger together now, rubbing them in between your folds to gather the slick you've produced for him. He then pushes it into your hole once he feels they're wet enough, making you whine loudly.

You gasp out, "F-Fuck, Ezra!" and grip onto one of the pillows next to you, lifting your head to sit up and watch his movements. You feel your body grow hotter by the second, the overwhelming feeling of his slow, yet deliberate fingers moving deeply inside of you, the mere sight of it making you lightheaded.

Your throat grows dry as you pant heavily, feeling nothing like you've ever experienced before. His eyes wander over your body, taking in the view of your worn out face, moaning for him, and your body that's trembling for him, your baggy shirt lifting up and up as you begin to shake.

His gasp is low and loud as he smirks, his mouth falling open as he looks at you, his need for you increasing more and more. As his fingers continue to move, he adds a third finger, making your face twist in pleasure and a mix of pain, the sudden intrusion shocking you. It feels too good for you to even care at this point.

He praises you filthily, moving his free hand to move your shirt up, exposing your tits for him. "God, you're so pretty, honey.. Such a pretty fuckin' cunt. Can't believe I found you, huh?" He says, making you squirm as butterflies fill your stomach with his dirty words and nick names.

He grasps onto one of your tits, squeezing it harshly, but not harsh enough to hurt you. Just right. He twists one of your nipples gently between his thumb and index finger, watching as it hardens and perks up for him. He groans at the view and brings his face closer to them, taking your other nipple into his mouth as he sucks onto it desperately.

You moan loudly, whimpering against him as the pleasure grows immensely. You've never felt this good in your life and you're in absolute bliss. You're not sure how or if it could get better than this.

"E-Ezra, can't.. can't take it, oh god," You cry out, panting even faster and louder as his fingers hit a spot inside of you that makes you see stars for a second. It's too overwhelming, too fucking good. Your hands find their way towards Ezra's hair, tugging on it gently, needing him more than ever. You wouldn't even begin to think that meeting him today would lead to this moment.

He finally removes himself from your tits, chuckling darkly as he looks up at you, bringing his head closer to your face. He looks at you intently, with desire and as if you were the only person in the entire world.

His fingers slow down, making you catch your breath a bit, and he removes them from your entrance, bringing them up to your face. "Taste yourself for me, baby.. Wanna see you take my fingers, can you do that, honey?" He whispers softly to you, his three fingertips resting against your lips, waiting for you to open them up for him.

You oblige, nodding your head as you open your mouth for him, allowing him to slip them in between your lips. You close your mouth shut around them, sucking on them gently as you moan out, looking at him the entire time. Your eyes roll back as he pushes them even further into your mouth, making it a bit harder to breathe, but you continue, wanting to please him.

His fingers were so thick in your mouth, and his scent was driving you insane. "Atta girl.. God, you're so fuckin' sexy. Makin' me go all crazy, you know that, pretty girl?" He groans out, bringing his free hand to grip your chin roughly. It makes you whine against his fingers, making Ezra feel the vibration of it through them.

He laughs lowly and slowly pulls his fingers out of your mouth, looking at them as your saliva connects, providing a string of it as he pulls it away. He just chuckles as he watches it, looking at you with adoration in his eyes. His grip on your chin moves to your cheeks now, squeezing your face a bit tightly as he demands you, "Open your mouth, baby. Open wide for me."

You quickly listen to him, opening your mouth as wide as you can. Before you could even process it, he spits down your throat, making you gasp loudly. "Now, swallow it. Swallow it all, darlin', let me see it." He instructs you, his grip on your face remaining rough and tight.

You nod and close your mouth, swallowing all of it for him. His hand squeezes your cheeks together, making you open your mouth again to let him see that you did what he asked of you. "Dirty, dirty fuckin' girl. Got so lucky, didn't I? Now you're getting it.." He lets out, snickering as you stick your tongue out to prove it.

His words make you feel so filthy, but you can't help but start to love it.. crave it. He's making it harder for you to even breathe right now.

You let out a small laugh, still absolutely worn out and overwhelmed, thanking him as your head feels cloudy. Ezra then grasps onto one of your hands, making you stare at its motion. He brings your palm to his hard bulge, all pent up through his pants, and the way it feels makes you moan. You've heard stories about men and this happening to them, but you never thought you'd be able to feel it like this.

"See how you make me feel, sweetheart? How hard you make me? You know what this means, right?" He says to you, his voice rough and raspy while he palms your hand over his bulge, making him moan lowly. You shake your head, not knowing if what you're thinking is the right answer.

He grins and chuckles, "Means I need your pretty pussy around me, honey. That's the only way I can satiate this.. make it all go away.. You gonna help me with that, baby? Gonna be a good girl for me?" Ezra eggs you on, wanting you to crave this just as much as he does.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you swallow a bit nervously, unsure but curious to know how it'll feel like. You've wondered about this your entire life, and you could finally experience it now.

You open your mouth to speak, hesitating to do so. Ezra softly rubs his other hand towards your inner thigh, attempting to reassure you. "Don't worry, birdie.. I'd never hurt you, if that's what you're concerned about. I'll make it feel real good for you. Make you see stars, honey.. What do you say?" He encourages, leaning in closer to your face.

What else do I have left to lose? You ask yourself, coming to your decision to agree. You pause, nodding your head at his proposals.

"Words, darlin', need you to tell me. Tell me you want this.. that you want me." He tells you, urging it from you as he removes your hand from his bulge to lift his hand to your face, gently caressing your cheek affectionately. It makes you shudder to the touch.

You sigh, inhaling sharply, "I want you, Ezra.. I want this." You admit to him, the arousal running through your body as it reaches your core. You grow wet again, thinking of this actually happening.

He smiles gently at you and leans in closer to your lips, whispering out against them, "That's it.. Atta girl, baby," and presses a gentle, yet firm & long kiss to your lips.

You moan into the kiss, shutting your eyes at the feeling. You've been kissed before, but never like this.. never from a man who's made you feel this good. It leaves you dazed and hazy as he pulls away from you, the need for him growing even more.

Ezra's hands reach for his pants now, grabbing onto the hem as he pulls it down along with his own underwear, revealing his hard cock for you. The sight of it makes your mouth water, wondering how he'll even fit inside of you if you could barely handle a few of his fingers.

Your throat grows dry as you gulp nervously at the thought, making you stammer out, "Ezra.. A-Are you sure it'll be able to fit? I.. I'm not sure if it will.." You confess to him, licking your lips as you finally look up at him.

A soft laugh escapes his throat as he grins at you, stroking his cock gently and slowly, staring at you with a hard gaze, "Don't you worry, honey.. I'll make it fit." He tells you, the nervous tone in your voice all the more spurring him on, aching with need for you. "Now, keep those legs open for me, birdie.. Wanna look at you while I take you."

Your heart races at his words, yet you comply with his requests, knowing that there's no way of getting out of this regardless. Nodding your head and staring at his face intently, you keep your legs spread for him, the cold air hitting your core and making you shiver.

Ezra moves himself in between your legs, grabbing the base of his cock with his right hand as he rubs the tip of it along your wet folds, making him moan out from the feeling. His stare is fixed onto your glistening cunt; the only thing he's been fantasizing about this entire day.

Without warning, he pushes the fat head of his cock into your pussy all while keeping his eyes on your face, wanting to see your reaction to him. Your eyes shoot open from the sudden intrusion, mouth falling open. "E-Ezra!" You gasp out, looking down at his body connecting to yours as you grip the bed to the best of your ability.

He just lets out a sigh of satisfaction, laughing at your reaction, "Sorry, baby.. Couldn't wait any longer. You can take more, can't you?" He pushes you, smirking as he continues to make his way into your cunt more and more, feeling his cock grow deeper inside of you.

Your walls involuntarily clench around him, the stretch of it almost unbearable for you as your shut your eyes, throwing your head back. He wasn't giving you any time to really adjust, and the pain burned while the pleasure slowly made itself apparent with the warmth in your body growing quickly.

Panting, your heart races even faster, unable to stop yourself from opening your eyes. You keep your gaze on the sight of him pushing himself inside of you, making your body feel fuller by the second.

Ezra groans as he continues to push further, gasping out, "Fuck, that's it, baby.. What a tight fuckin' pussy. Fillin' you up nice and good, just like you needed.." The words on his tongue making you throb for him, as he finally buries himself inside of you completely.

Your breath is taken away as his thick cock fills you to the brim, tears beginning to form in the corner of your eyes as your mouth gapes at the feeling and sight of it. He's huge, making it evident that way as you see him bulge out from your stomach.

He chuckles as his eyes follow where yours are, seeing himself in your stomach. He places his hand right there on top of it, pushing onto your stomach so you can feel him right there. "You feel me in you, honey? So deep, I know.. But it feels good, don't it? Takin' every fuckin' inch.." He pants, slowly but adamantly rocking himself against you.

It takes every bit of control in him to not fuck you hard, taking what he wants from you and using you how he wants.

"Gonna move now, baby.. S'gonna feel real good, I promise.." He whispers, reaching for one of your legs to lift it up onto his shoulder, making the angle of his cock push into you even deeper as you groan loudly, the unbearable feeling running through your core.

You just lay there, taking it as the pleasure builds up and up inside of you, his hips pushing and pulling as the speed gradually increases.

He pulls his hips back, his hand pressing harshly onto your stomach to keep you still and full of him, making sure that he pulls his cock out just enough for it to rest at your entrance, wasting no time to shove it back into you.

The burn of his girth and how much it stretches you feels incredible now, making you moan out and shudder at the feeling. With each push of his cock, he fills you completely, pressing his hips to the hilt of your pussy, almost like you're taking him deeper every time.

"F-Fuck.. Ezra— please.. please!" You whine, the tears in your ears now falling down your cheeks at the overwhelming pressure in your pussy. "So.. So good, please, fa-faster.." You plead, your eyes fixed on him completely.

He lets out a filthy laugh, loving how much you're craving for it now. He knew he'd get you right where he wanted you. "That's my girl.. my good girl. Don't you worry, honey, I'll give you more than you need.." Ezra whispers lowly to you, the speed of his thrusts and movements now going at an unbearable pace, making your body shake and move from the force of his hips.

You whine out loudly, choking out as your eyes shut from the rapid change of speed. The noises that your pussy makes from his huge cock hammering inside of you is filthy, making you flush from how it rings in your ears.

"Dirty girl.. You hear yourself? Hear how soaked you are from my fuckin' cock? Can't get enough of this pretty little pussy, honey.. It's too good. Wanna fuck this cunt forever.." He groans out, making your eyes roll back at his words.

His movements suddenly halt as he pulls out of you, grabbing onto your waist roughly to flip you onto your stomach, trapping your legs and hips with his thighs. Ezra quickly grabs hold of his cock, gliding the tip of it through your folds as he shoves it back inside your tight cunt, feeling him deeper than you ever thought you could.

Your back involuntarily arches up, the feeling of him buried inside of you being too much, too deep, as you whale and whine, turning your head to try to look at him. "W-Wait! Too much, please.. slow down!" You choke out, trying to get him to relent.

Ezra just laughs and shoves your head back down onto the bed with his left hand, the other pushing your back down to press your stomach flat. He shushes you, his thrusts quickening as he fills you with each push, "Shh, honey.. Just take it.. You can do it, I know you can, baby.. S'Better like this. Take this fuckin' cock, like the good girl you are.."

Your body convulses at his harsh movements, making your stomach coil in pleasure as you feel yourself grow hotter and hotter, the feeling in your cunt making you sob out. His cock repeatedly hits that spot deep inside of you, making you see stars.. just as he promised you.

His hips continuously collide with your ass, moving his hands to grab handfuls of it, squeezing your cheeks harshly as he spreads your ass for him, watching his cock plunge into you over and over again.

"Fuck, birdie.. Gotta nice ass, too.. So perfect for me." He chuckles out, slapping your ass a few times, making you squirm and groan out from the pleasurable sting. "Mmphf!" You whimper, his hand pushing the side of your face down onto the bed.

You cry out, tears falling down your cheeks as you sob, "T-Too much, Ezra! I.. I can't.."

He shakes his head and tuts his tongue, correcting you, "Yes, you can, you can, sweetheart.. Not gonna stop til' I'm done with you," He says harshly, his tone needy and mean as his movements grow rougher. "Cryin' so pretty for me, baby.. Makin' me so proud.. My girl."

You shake as your body convulses from his thrusts, and Ezra laughs at that, knowing that you're close.. feeling that you're close, as you clench around his huge cock repeatedly, that unrelenting feeling building up in you.

Ezra's arm moves beneath your stomach, grasping onto your waist tightly as he suddenly pulls you up against his chest. He holds you unbelievably close and tight against him, making it impossible for you to move away, keeping you absolutely still for him. His hand at your waist moves to one of your tits, grabbing it hard as he holds you there.

His thrusts hit that spot inside of you repeatedly, pressing into it over and over again as you shake, your body feeling too weak to even hold yourself up. Ezra just does that for you, gripping and taking your body to his liking, as if your body was his.

To be fair, your body already is.

Sobbing out, you scream and shut your eyes tightly, lifting your head up to rest it on his shoulder, his pants and groans filling your ears as you grow lightheaded. "That's it, honey.. Gonna come for me? I feel it.. Feel how close you are. I am too.." He whispers in your ear, moving his free hand down to your cunt, using two of his fingers to rub rapid circles on your clit.

Your eyes shoot up at the feeling, enduring the feeling of your climax increasing as your stomach tightens and coils uncontrollably. "F-Fuck— Ezra! Go-Gonna.. come!" You cry out, your body completely giving out as his cock just takes you.

"That's right, come on my fuckin' cock, baby.. Gonna come too.. fill you up real good, sweetheart.. Make you mine."

Your eyes widen at his words, knowing that he shouldn't.. he can't. "N-No, Ezra, not inside, you can't, I.." You whimper out as your breath hitches in your throat.

He just shakes his head, laughing in your ear, "I can't? I can't? I can do whatever I want, baby. Nothin's stoppin' me.. not you, not your little family.. They're long gone now, honey.."

You whimper and cry out, squirming against him as you try to pull away, knowing that you can't get pregnant. Not in a world like this.

Your pleads just spur him on, all while his fingers on your clit push you further to the edge.

"You know, I was watching you.. following you around all day.. wondering how tight this pretty cunt would feel around me. Fuck.. I was right.. Now, you're mine. Never gonna leave you, baby.. Pussy's too good. Can't let you go.. Can't give this up."

Tears stream down your face as the pressure inside of you builds up with every breath you take, not even processing the words he just said. Your lower body shakes as you try to keep your eyes open, screaming out, "G-God.. M' gonna come!" His fingers apply even more pressure on your clit as he laughs. "Come for me, honey.. Doin' so good for me. Come on my fuckin' cock."

Your ears drown out every single noise in the tent, ringing loudly as your throat tightens, screaming out. Your cunt tightens around his cock, clenching onto him as much as you can as your pussy convulses and writhes against his, seeing stars. He fucks you through it, his pace never faltering as your climax coats his cock with your slick, running down your weak thighs.

He lets go of your body, making you collapse on your stomach as his thrusts go faster, harder. He's close, and you can feel it too, his cock twitching inside of your spent cunt.

His groans fill the room as he hammers into you, gripping onto your ass and waist to keep you still for him. "Gonna fill this pretty pussy so deep, you're gonna feel me for days, honey.. That way, you'll never leave me.. Never gonna feel any other man fuck you this good.. My pretty girl.."

You whine out at his words, knowing how fucked up it is.. but, you can't help but love it.

His hands grip your hips tightly, pulling your waist flush against him as he groans loudly, holding you there. His cock is buried inside of you as deep as he can, pulsing streams of his come inside your cunt. You feel him deep inside of you, painting your walls as you sob out at the feeling. "O-Oh, fuck!"

"Fuck, yeah, baby.. All fuckin' mine, Take it. That's a good girl." He sighs out contently, pushing his cock even a fraction of an inch deeper, as far as he can. You whimper at how full you feel, his come running through your pussy, whining at how good it feels for you, even though it shouldn't.

Ezra's body slowly collapses on top of your back, keeping himself inside of you as he finally slows down, beginning to catch his breath, his high deterring.

The tears in your eyes start to dry up and your eyes stay wide open, processing everything that just happened. The shock runs through your body, making you shiver at the thought. You can't help but crave him even more, making you realize that you wanted this.

Ezra moves his hands around your waist to pull you against his chest as he rolls to his side, taking you with him. He pulls you in closer, preventing you from moving, staying flushed against him.

His coarse, gentle voice fills your ears as you shut your eyes, the exhaustion catching up to you, all while his hand runs through your hair, caressing your head affectionately.

"All mine, honey.. Never lettin' you go.."

And he never does.

You never make it back home.

-

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[pimosworld]

I’m coming in late @swiftiscruff but I didn’t want to miss an opportunity to say how much I Love the people I’ve met on this blog because of this man.

This is the way I’m eating up all your fics because I love you so much. If I didn’t tag you please don’t be offended, I would tag my whole follow list if I could.

Taglist- @swiftispunk @joelscruff @joelsgreys @goodwithcheese @punkshort @survivingandenduring @for-a-longlongtime @connectioneverywhere @mountainsandmayhem @mermaidgirl30 @morallyinept @modernperplexity @pedge-page @gasolinerainbowpuddles @beefrobeefcal @ghostslillady @the-fox-den @syd-djarin @sawymredfox @tightjeansjavi @javierpena-inatacvest @ohforficsake @endlessthxxghts @romanarose @casa-boiardi @netherfeildren @luxurychristmaspudding @auteurdelabre @fuckyeahdindjarin @secretelephanttattoo @undercoverpena @underwood0723 @joelsgreys @pedgito @milla-frenchy @oliveksmoked @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @thetriumphantpanda @kiwisbell @stargirlfics @beardedjoel

#ppcugiftexchange2024 #ppcufriendshipexchange2024 #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfic #frankie 'catfish' morales #ezra prospect fanfiction #pero tovar #javier peña fluff #pedro pascal fic #Pedro pascal

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2023: October 3rd

Day 3: Rimming, Fingering/Handjob, Dry Humping

Ezra (Prospect) x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Spit, filthy language, hand jobs, self image issues, cum

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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.

His curses reach your ears, making you glance over your shoulder discreetly to where he was fumbling and berating himself under his breath. 

Since coming back from the Green, Ezra has been different. Churlish and short tempered with his shortcomings that have become apparent with the loss of his dominant hand. 

He had insisted that he needed work, that he could do it. Coming to you with an almost desperate plea in his eyes that was very unlike the loquacious and enigmatic prospector. Tugging on the strings of friendship and occasionally more when you both were of like mind. 

The job was pretty straightforward. Harvesting was Ezra’s passion and his skill. Needing to bring in five cases of latinum, processed from the crystals near the cobalt vein on Fero 2. 

Except….Ezra is struggling. Unable to do what he could before that fateful tour on the Green’s treacherous surface. The ragged and red skin that has been patched together over the remaining stump of his arm is a testament to what he has lost. 

More than that, he’s not the same charismatic, confident floater that had talked his way into your bed and into a split of your profits. He’s lost. You can see and worse, so can he. 

“Mother fuckin’, mong nonger, flipper cunt, son of a bitchin’ floatin’ piece of shit.” Ezra hisses, slamming the palm of his left hand against the cursed zipper that it stuck. It’s been one hundred and twenty cycles since he had lost his fucking arm and still he’s unable to do most of the simple tasks he had taken for granted. 

It doesn’t help that it’s been nearly a hundred and twenty-five since he’s had anything resembling pleasure. 

Ezra isn’t a greedy man, but he is one who sees to his needs. Now, he’s unable to. Not just because of proximity, there’s no privacy in the smaller tent you are both residing in with most of your gear taking up the space. It’s because it doesn’t feel the same. There’s no pretending it’s a lover stroking his cock when he closes his eyes. The damn phantom pains knock him out of any fantasy. 

Now he’s here with you. A woman that he intimately knows and he cannot even bear the thought of touching you. Knowing that his skills are woefully inadequate for being considered a lover. Unworthy of treating you to a fumbling, unsatisfying encounter with a man who is unable to perform at the peak of his ability. 

He wants to cum, he needs to. But he can’t even drag the zipper down on his suit right now. 

You watch him, sighing softly at the stubbornness of the man. That was something that has been consistent from the Ezra prior to the Green and the one in front of you. 

He’s spoken about his fears. His shortcomings and his desires. Not in verbal words, but the way he has acted has been louder than any story he could have told you. 

The cot you are sitting on is yours, the only space you have to stretch out and relax. Where you unwind from a day of dealing with Ezra’s increasingly short temper and the work of extracting the crystals you had promised to fulfill the contract. Your boots off and your suit stripped down to the soft, worn underclothes that protect your skin from the rubberized suits. 

“Ezra.” He grunts, not even looking at you as he continues to struggle with the protective outer layer of his outfit. Another few creative curses filling the tent. 

There’s a hazy idea on what would soothe the rough and raw man. It’s the same that always mellows you out when you have an itch that needs to be scratched, the pulsing pleasure of an orgasm making your rough day better. 

It makes you move, standing and quietly shedding the layers until you are bare. Your feet padding quietly across the thick canvas flooring of the tent. Moving closer and reaching out to touch his shoulder gently, soothingly. 

“Gem- please-” You can hear the rejection of help in the tone of his voice, the haggard resignation.

Instead of saying anything, you shush him and circle around his body. Bringing your own to stand in front of him and for once, Ezra is quiet with the exception of a strangled groan as his eyes widen. Taking in the sight of you nude in front of him. 

Taking advantage of his silence, his frozen movements, you take the zipper that has been giving him so much trouble and drag it down after a few good, hard yanks. “Let me help you.” Is all you whisper, looking up at him under your lashes as you start to push the fabric off his shoulders. The neatly pinned sleeve on the right easily drops, but the left side is still caught on his bent elbow. 

“Gem-”

“I’m going to jerk you off.” You tell him, concentrating on undressing the prospector while he stands stiff as a board. “I’m going to get on my knees and wrap my hand around your cock. Stroke you until all you can think about is cumming on my tits.” 

You smirk when he groans, knowing how much Ezra once enjoyed painting your body with his cum when he was feeling particularly wicked. Filling your mouth and covering your face when you gagged on his cock. Or splattering his seed on your tits and belly. Seeing himself on you was something he had enjoyed. 

Ezra exhales, a ragged sound that you imagine costs him dearly. The round curve to his shoulders as you strip down the suit to his waist and then to his ankles. His cock is half hard, poking up in the threadbare sweats that hang on his hips. Obviously interested in the helping hand you are offering despite himself. 

He doesn’t say a word, barely breathes as you pull off his boots, strip him of the suit, pull down his sweats and reveal the body underneath. He never wore underwear, didn’t believe in it, and you’re glad some things haven’t changed. 

Leaving him in the ripped, holey shirt, his cock curves up, hardening even more as you had knelt down and proven to him that you were going to do this. Eyes dark and piercing as he stares down. 

Your own eyes are meeting his when you spit in your hand. Coating it generously and reaching out to wrap around the bobbing, quivering length. 

“Fuck.” His hiss is gloriously raw when you squeeze him, sliding your hand up loosely to coat his dry skin. “You are really going to treat me, aren’t you, gem?” 

He’s not expecting an answer, no when you had very clearly told him what you were going to do. Spitting in your hand again and then leaning forward to allow the spit to dribble directly on his cock from your mouth as Ezra swallows a moan. 

His cock is perfect. The foreskin rolls back beautifully and reveals the pink, shiny head, begging for your mouth but you aren’t going to suck it. Wanting him to take this bit of pleasure that you will give him. Allow him to relax for a moment without lamenting his inability to do anything. 

Starting slow, making sure that the long, luxurious tugs to his cock are pulling every ounce of pleasure out of him that you can. Letting him feel the crevices in your hand and the warmth of your grip. 

“You’re too good to me.” He groans out, head tilting back and exposing the long length of his stubbled chin and neck. “Undeserving of your beauteous consideration. Your curative touch.” 

His cock throbs in your hand, twitching when you twist your wrist as you stroke back towards the base. You had watched him several times as he had stood over you, jerking himself off to finish after he had finished wrecking you. 

“I should be servicing you, dear gem.” He grunts, biting his bottom lip until it is plump and bruised with his eyes fixed on the slow, steady movement of your hand and the feeling it brings him. If he closes his eyes, it would almost feel like his own touch. “For so readily dealing with a cantankerous, feeble man.” 

You huff, not finding him to be feeble, but you don’t argue with him, knowing it would be useless. His hand finds the curve of your face and you turn your head, pressing a kiss to the palm of it, enjoying the roughness of his skin as you nuzzle into it. 

“So pretty with my cock in your hand. Imagined that image so many times as I tried to pleasure myself. Angry about having no means to give myself love. It was not nearly as sweet as the grip you hold my length. My fumbling attempts to stroke myself falling sort of your angelic touch.” 

There’s the Ezra you want to hear, to see standing above you. His chest rising and falling under his shirt as he starts to pant. His mouth running more and more as he slowly starts to rock his hips forward. “You’re gonna let me paint you, gem?” He asks breathlessly. “Adorn your glowing skin with the white hues of my pleasure?” He twitches again, obviously looking forward to such a thing. 

You hum, nodding up at him while your grip tightens slightly, enjoying the feeling of soft, velvety skin over the hardness beneath. Growing wetter as you remember how that hardness feels as it is pounding into you. Perhaps you will bend over your cot tomorrow and beg Ezra to fuck you. He would be able to manage that position with ease. 

When you squeeze his cock, moving your hand faster, you seemingly steal Ezra’s ability to speak. The groans and moans of his pleasure all the music that your ears are privy to. The symphony of his sounds shooting straight to your cunt and if you weren’t focused on relaxing him, you would have started touching yourself. This is for him. A handjob for a man who continually laments the loss of his own. 

“Shit- gem, gonna-” Ezra barely manages the strangled words before his cock is pulsing in your hand. Giving you a split second warning before ropes of cum start spurting from the tip. His warmth splattering your skin and his whine of joy at the release nearly enough to make you cum. Working him, milking his cock of every last drop until Ezra reaches down and wraps his fingers around your wrist. 

You are covered in him. The milky white seed coating your tits and chest is thick, viscous. Copious amounts that speak of it being a long time since he had cum.

“Kevva, gem.” He hums, almost drunkenly. “I am humbled by your assistance and have yet begun to sing your praises, but my cock is nearly untouchable from how pleasured it is at the moment.” He closes his eyes and sighs, a small smile on his face. “Have I ever told you about the orgy that I had the pleasure of engaging in on Rynock?” He asks, showing glimpses of the man you know.

#pedro pascal #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #absurdthirst kinktober #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect smut #ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra prospect fanfiction

[wannab-urs]

Pedro Pascal Character Fic Recs | Vol 37

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Howdy folks!

Welcome to my bi-weekly fic rec list! This is everything I read in the last two weeks. It's... a lot. I did March Fic Madness and also just was generally in a reading mood so there's like 40 fics here. They're in alphabetical order by boy.

All info provided by the author unless it was blank, in which case I filled it in.

Constellations in his eyes

Dave York one shot by @janaispunk

Your fiancé stands you up on your birthday. Dave doesn’t.

infidelity, shitty boyfriend, angst, fluff, kissing, able-bodied reader, reader has hair, no use of y/n

What Love Means

Dave York one shot by @ravensmadreads

Dave has a panic attack and you help him through it

So David is probably ooc (but this version of him is my comfort character sorry), description of a panic attack, mentions of canon violence, and like the barest hint at smut.

The Mess of Us

Dave York one shot by @ravensmadreads

I gave david york my heart and then proceeded to bash it with a sledgehammer - forgive me :p this is the same universe as What Love Means

vague smut, lots of angst (i mean i tried), almost entirely canon compliant, vague-ish attempt at smut, mild cursing, insane use of italics.

The One

Dieter one shot by @schnarfer

If one thing had been different, would everything be different today?

Bit of emotional torment, drink and drugs references, Dieter POV, happy ending? Always Fleabag coded.

Purple Haze

Dieter one shot by @schnarfer

that boy put a spell on you

1960’s London Dieter Bravo AU, heavy on the British slang, explicit alcohol and drug references, reader is a model but no physical descriptions, outfit descriptions, swearing, sort of enemies to lovers if you squint, smut; protected PIV, light bondage, reader is in control and Dieter is a subby puddle, pet names (angel, doll, darling), light dirty talk, playful slaps. Just a note we’re always very Fleabag coded here.

House Arrest

Dieter one shot by @rulexofxnines

Dieter stays over at your place out of desperation. Things get out of hand so you take control of the situation.

forced proximity, only one bed, a goat

The Howler Monkey

Dieter one shot by @covetyou

You got him here, he was safely tucked away upstairs and everything was going, mostly, according to plan. So, who the fuck is screaming?

no smut but some nudity, implied drug use/addiction, little bit silly, mildly angsty, performance anxiety, screaming, Dieter Bravo's soft cock. basically mild hurt/comfort/fluff with my usual bit of silliness.

Vampire!Dieter

Dieter one shot by @chronically-ghosted

Interview with a vampire, gatsby style

flirting, a bit of blood, maybe dubcon due to The Thrall but i think it's safe to say we all want It from vampire!dieter, unbeta-ed because i needed to write something or someone was going to die

Brick House

Dieter one shot by @nerdieforpedro

Dieter buys a house for you and the baby

mention of past drug use, fertility issues, mention of sperm donation and clinics, false pretenses, Dieter might be a bit obsessed or a lot

Stay sexy and don't get murdered

Dieter one shot by @chronically-ghosted

Trapped behind a secret wall to hide from a murderer, the close proximity forces you and Dieter to confront feelings you rather bury underneath your case to prove your favorite neighbor didn’t commit suicide.

brief moments of tv-appropiate terror, arguing, mentions of suicide, mentions of death/murder, but more importantly: smut (like half of this is smut), oral (f!receiving), dieter’s bare ass nearly catching on fire, too many feelings for something that started as a crack fic idea

Fare Well

Dieter one shot by @nerdieforpedro

Dieter has been working so hard. He still has an issue that might be because of his mind. What can he do about it? Do anything else.

unhealthy coping, sexual dysfunction, sex work, teasing, pet names, sexual activity (actual and implied I think? I should know. 🙃)

A poor plan to confess

Dieter one shot by @nerdieforpedro

Dieter is doing his best to stay sober. You have a large part in his plans. They aren’t well thought out.

Dieter being a bit rude, porn use, mention of masturbation, teasing, improper toy use?, very bad communication, some mentions of sexual activities and acts, Nerdie is unsure of what she wrote

Conversation Pit

Dieter one shot @thosewickedlovelies

You’re viewing a mansion with Dieter, and it has a conversation pit. Does he have the discipline to keep his hands to himself?

friends with benefits, SMUT: Dieter’s favorite dom appears 👀 could it be someone we know?; mmf threesome, piv sex, semipublic sex but don’t worry, edging (m receiving), references to sex work

Lush

Din one shot by @the-scandalorian

Mando makes regular visits to the healing baths.

touch-starved Din; reader is blindfolded; smut

Immortal By Design

Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

Din Djarin picks up a mysterious job at the Bounty Hunter’s Guild from a high paying client that specifically requested him. Once he tracks down the bounty, he discovers two things— you tracking the bounty for different reasons entirely and a lot more than he bargained for.

reader is able-bodied, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), no Grogu in this universe, possession, cursed object, dark!Din, monsterfucking (I think), Din has heightened capabilities, dub con/noncon, restraints, reader gets captured, oral sex (M and F receiving), rough oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, mir’sheb = smart ass, character death, no use of y/n

Enchanted to Meet You

Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

You’re a senator for the New Republic and tonight you’re forced to attend the New Republic Gala. Senator Xiono won’t leave you alone but that in turn leads you to meet Mando, a security guard at the event. And that leaves you wonderstruck.

Reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, reader has consumed alcohol, creepy guy at the gala, fingering, semi public sex, vaginal sex, pull out method, pet names (cyar’ika, mesh’la), no use of y/n

I don't mind bleeding

Din one shot by @quicksilvermad

You and the Mandalorian have a mutually beneficial relationship—he pays your rent and you feed him when he needs fresh blood.

vampire!Din, blood, PIV sex, biting, sex work, second person POV, AFAB Reader, one instance of "good girl", aftercare

Bound

Din one shot by @frannyzooey

It’s your thighs he’s bound this time — not your hands for a change.

smut, bondage, AU

Hello to the Green

Ezra one shot by @the-blind-assassin-12

Down a ship, a crew, and a working air filter, and suffering from a rapidly worsening infection, Ezra makes one last ditch effort to get home. And he hopes it’s enough.

language, angst, injury and illness, death

Paint With Me

Frankie one shot by @bitchesuntitled

You have a crush on the dad of your daughter’s best friend.

Sexual innuendos and cursing

Right on Cue

Frankie one shot by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

The quiet bartender lends you a hand after you've closed up for the night.

reader is able-bodied but otherwise undescribed. Oral sex f receiving, protected PIV, that's pretty much it. this is just PWP

Door Number Three

Javi G drabble by @morallyinept

Javi shows you what he keeps behind that mirrored door

Character talk alludes to sexy things.

Dámelo

Javi P one shot by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

You want more. Javi wants to give it to you. You just have to give him something first.

mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, aftercare. reader is able-bodied but otherwise undescribed.

Dress Up Joel

Joel series @covetyou

when a mysterious stranger breaks into your house, and keeps breaking into your house, he gives you the fright, and the ride, of your life. Welcome to your seasonal encounters with one Mr. Joel Miller.

sex toys, dress up, festive/seasonal shenanigans, no use of Y/N, see individual fics for additional warnings

He Knows

Joel/Tommy one shot by @psychedelic-ink

Joel knows you have a little thing for his younger brother so decides to indulge you for your birthday.

gonna state this very clearly: joel gets cucked by tommy and watches, everyone is consenting and it's discussed beforehand, piv, dirty talk, possessive!joel, daddy kink, size kink, established relationship between joel and reader, jealousy, some brotherly rivalry, facial, mild degradation kink, creampie

Does Your Mother Know

Joel one shot by @beskarandblasters

Joel finds a pretty young thing on the beach to spend some time with on his vacation.

reader is able-bodied, reader wears a bikini & a dress, no outbreak AU, ambiguous beach location, both reader and Joel consume alcohol, age gap (20 years), oral sex (F and M receiving), semi public sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is on birth control, pet names (sweetheart, baby), no use of y/n

Tear You Apart

Joel one shot by @mermaidgirl30

Joel comes for you late at night. He always does. Always stalks, chases, and prowls after you like a starving wolf. And when he catches you, he devours you, feeds on you like the animal he is. Will you run and hide or will you give into the temptation that calls you in the forest?

Dark themes, Little red riding hood references, dark! Joel, Joel is a menace, oral, fingering, choking, unprotected P in V, cream pie, filthy smut, degrading actions, not really violent but lots of dark themes, manipulation, rough sex, dirty talk, Joel calls reader little lamb, possessive Joel, feral! Joel, post outbreak! Joel, controlling Joel, dom! Joel, submissive reader, Joel x fem! reader, Joel is in his late 40’s and reader is in her late 20’s

inhale, exhale

Joel one shot by @sp00kymulderr

This world is not made for intimacy and both of you know it.

Fingering, mentions of sex, smoking (both reader and Joel), canon typical violence mentions, needy!Joel, fear of intimacy. Barely edited as usual.

One Day at a Time

Joel series by @sixhours

Joel becomes a dad. Again

soft!Joel, no really super soft!Joel, Joel is bad at feelings and relationships, Joel is a sap, mostly follows canon, SMUT, gratuitous smut, dubious consent (drunk sex), unplanned pregnancy, fluff, references to past miscarriages, angst, hurt/comfort, romance, age gap (~21 years), childbirth, fluffy baby stuff

mine

Joel one shot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

You encounter a frightening beast in the forest after getting separated from your group. Instead of killing you, he spares your life - the first of many surprises from this mysterious creature.

it's Joel Miller as a humanoid monster beast creature with a massive cock idk what you want me to say, creative liberties with anatomy and bodily fluids, they're soulmates because I wrote this so of course they are, monster!Joel can talk a little but it wouldn't kill him to watch a few episodes of Reading Rainbow or do some alphabet flash cards tbh, one curious use of an aquifer as a metaphor

Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To

Joel one shot by @freelancearsonist

Joel finds a familiar face while out on a smuggling run.

Rated PG for pure angst, one single kiss, and references to Joel's self-inflicted gun wound/self harm

Ahórcame, Papí

Joel/Frankie/Ezra one shot by @marisferasiop

After he gives a recovering addict a job (and subsequently falls head over heels for him), Joel and Frankie have a sweet, fulfilling relationship as Daddy and little exploring their kinks. Then, they meet Ezra at a leather club, another damaged vet with his own issues and kinks. They take him home, and he never really leaves.

Daddy Kink, Daddy/littles, pup kink, Breathplay (hands on throats), Orgasm Denial, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Control "Training", Light BDSM, Aftercare, Soft Dom Joel, vers Ezra, Bottom Frankie Morales, Oral Sex, Cockwarming, AnalSex, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Breeding Kink, Heat/rut kink, PTSD mention (vets), gags, fingering, choking, cum eating, prostate milking, fucking machine mention, the elusive "sissygasm"

On the Verge of a Usual Mistake

Lucien/Dieter two shot by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

You've been avoiding your exes Dieter Bravo and Lucien Flores all night at this event, but you're forced to come to terms with how things ended in both relationships when they seek to right their wrongs.

this is truly just porn with minimal plot (I'm so proud of myself lol), Dieter and Lucien are messy exes, threesome activities, Twister but with genitalia, Daddy and Papi kinks

In shades of gray and candlelight

Marcus P one shot by @freelancearsonist

Nothing good starts in a getaway car, but you sure do have fun delaying the inevitable.

artist!reader my beloved (reader is able-bodied, basic female anatomy and feminine pronouns used, reader is described as having hair that is long enough to be put up but otherwise she’s a blank slate), unprotected p in v sex, cum swallowing, creampie, semi-public sex acts, oral (r + m receiving), handjobs, fingering, very light switchy dom/sub dynamics, a couple spanks, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, baby, honey), heavy praise kink, light size kink, consent king!marcus, just like the song it does not end happily

headshots

Marcus P series by @secretelephanttattoo

You're a photographer and you get a job working for the FBI, taking corporate headshots. On your first day, you run into a handsome Special Agent. The series follows their relationship.

Fluff. Smut. PIV. Romance. Flirting. So much kissing. Non-stop nuzzling. Tiny bit of angst. Marcus in his plaid shirts. Marcus on a motorbike. Skiing. A cameo. Sex talker Marcus.

The Infinity Cube

Marcus P/Various series by @littlemisspascal

When you play with a strange cube, you’re transported out of your current reality with your boyfriend Marcus into brand new ones starring alternate versions of your boyfriend who look and act entirely different every time. With each encounter, you start to wonder if you’ll ever make it back to your real universe?

language, fluff, angst

12:32 PM

Marcus M one shot by @dancingtotuyo

Marcus likes to think he's moved on with life.

Grief, loss of a spouse (Wife), fluff

Given a name

Oberyn/Ellaria one shot by @missredherring

"This would be your greatest indulgence?" He asks, the edges of his beautiful mouth curling into a pleased grin. / How like a man to inflate his importance. It’s a pity that he isn’t wrong. / This will be my greatest selfishness.

Angst. Mentions of canon character deaths. Allusions to Greek mythology cos I'm a nerd. Reader chooses a name for herself.

Innocence need not tremble

Pero one shot by @brandyllyn

"I told you I don’t know how to fuck a maiden."

smut. PiV. starts rough. but gets better.

Cherry Wine

Whiskey one shot by @julesonrecord

Your marriage to your high school sweetheart has been hell for a long time, but when Jack discovers your awful secret, it all comes pouring out like a wine stain on the carpet. What do you find in the dregs?

MDNI; DDDNE; hurt people hurting people, domestic violence (verbal, physical, off stage neglect), there's a mention of human urine omg I'm truly horrified that survived the editing process, off stage drug use as a coping mechanism, alcoholism, infidelity, grief due to miscarriage/child loss, oblique suicidal ideations ("you should have killed me"); explicit smut; dirty talk; piv; fingering; possessive!Jack; emotional resolution?

#fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #fanfiction recommendations #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #dave york fanfiction #Joel miller fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #oberyn martell fanfiction #Marcus Pike fanfiction #Marcus Moreno fanfiction #Jack Daniels fanfiction #lucien flores fanfiction #dieter bravo fanfiction #ezra prospect fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction

[perotovar]

hey sweeties!! kel and i put a list together of all the submissions we got for our event and split them into two masterlists of fics for you all to read and enjoy! this is my part of the list, so if you don't see yours give @beskarandblasters 's list >here< a look and see if that's where your fic/submission ended up!

we can't thank you enough for submitting and helping us give a voice to the smaller writers of the fandom ♥ oh, and for any multi chapter fics/series, we only read the first chapters to make it fair!

please make sure to read each fic's warnings carefully and happy reading! ♥

@iamskyereads - Compulsion (Ezra x ofc!Beatrice)

i can't even begin to describe how much i love this fic already. it's so smart and the worldbuilding?? incredible!! it feels like a sequel to the film, or like it could easily take place in the same universe. just brilliant. and ezra's voice is so clear here, i could hear him saying every word. and the oc, beatrice, is fascinating already, i can't wait to see where it goes!

@all-the-way-down-here - This Is Why We Fight (Dieter x nb!oc!Bell)

i love the start of this. both dieter and bell have excellent characterization and the conversations being had by every character feel so real and are so important. bell's group of friends all sound like friends i would have, and i would love to hang out with them. i love the direction this is going!

@linzels-blog - Delta Palms Tropical Resort (Frankie x f!reader)

ahh what a delightful little fic! it feels very much like an early 2000s rom com and i mean that in the best way! very cute and i love the vibes. everyone's characterization is great and i can't wait to sink my teeth into the rest of it!

@elvenmother - Context and Perspective (Marcus M x f!reader)

completely obsessed with this concept. i love a good enemies to lovers and this is such an awesome way to do it! i always see marcus m fics featuring someone without superpowers, but to have a character that's just as powerful as him? sign me up!

@kedsandtubesocks - In the Dead of the Night (Din x f!reader)

one of my absolute favorite din fics. the worldbuilding and din's creature form is incredible. i love a horror au that's flipped on its head. i also love the "creature is also the hunter" trope and this does that incredibly well. the atmosphere is off the charts.

@ghostofaboy - Rock Bottom (Frankie x original male characters)

god, i don't even know where to begin with this story. it's so raw and visceral and i can't say enough how much i enjoy it. i love reading something new and especially if it's coming from a male perspective. this is, unfortunately, something i could see frankie getting up to. frankie is such a deeply tragic character and this fic does that justice in a dark, but really intriguing way.

@ishabull - The Way We Were Drawn (Marcus P x f!reader)

ohh this is such a sweet fic. i love the imagery painted and the dynamic between marcus and reader is so sweet!

@secretelephanttattoo - Headshots (Marcus P x f!reader)

this fic is beyond sweet and so dreamy. the ideal scenario for anyone, in my humble opinion. who wouldn't want to take pictures of handsome fbi agents and then fall in love with said agent?

@lesbianhotch - you walk by and i fall to pieces (Frankie x f!reader)

THIS WAS THE CUTEST DAMN THING. i love me a nervous frankie (hello, have you read my fic lmao) and this was by far one of the cutest. i'm obsessed with reader's confidence and i just know those two are gonna be menaces once they're together. throw in some patsy cline and i am a goner. this is going on the reread list for sure.

@insomniamamma - Remain Nameless (Ezra & Cee w/ gn!reader)

ok, this one actually made me cry. i'm not sure if it's my own sleep-deprived ass that caused it but this is probably one of the most beautiful but sad fics i've read in a long time. i mean all of this in the best way because i don't normally get emotional from fics. prospect as a movie makes me emotional, though, so it doesn't surprise me that this did as well. it's such an incredible missing scene that i can, unfortunately, see absolutely happening. have some tissues nearby.

@sweetercalypso - Unlikely Friends (Joel x gn!reader)

this fic is one of my absolute favorite fics for joel. a big reason for that is i have a cat named tilly. and imagining joel reluctantly and grumpily cuddling with my tilly makes me emotional, ok??

@softstarlite - The Casualty of Love (Javi P x f!reader)

very cute! i love the awkward tension around not seeing someone for so long and there being a huge glow up maturity-wise from one of them! seeing someone in a new light is always a strange thing and i love the start to these two and their journey!

@julesonrecord - Shots (Jack x f!reader/oc)

probably one of the best post-movie fics i've ever read for jack. the way jack's trauma and therapy is handled is so fucking brilliant and tonic is one of the best fucking characters, god. eva is written so well and i just. i can't recommend this fic enough. if you like jack, hell even if you don't, give this fic a shot. i promise you'll come out of it liking it.

@coulsons-fullmetal-cellist - The Audition (Dieter x f!reader)

goddd this was so cute! dieter's insecurities don't come up very often and i absolutely love what a match he and reader make. she's so sweet with him and takes such good care of him. and he loves her so much and i love them ok

@max--phillips - A Little Lipstick Never Hurts (Max P x f!reader)

this is one of the best explorations into kink that i've ever read. it's so respectful and hot as fuck. completely obsessed with this take on max as a character and i can't get enough of the dynamic between him, reader, (and eventually dieter). it may not be everyone's cup of tea, but i highly encourage you to give it a try. max gets some well deserved lessons taught, and who doesn't love that?

@coastielaceispunk - The Gift of Lingerie (Max L x f!reader)

god, this was so fucking hot. i'm so here for a mentally healed maxwell in a healthy marriage with a fulfilling sex life lol the little bit of teasing on both their parts was beyond sexy and i loved how equal everything felt. ugh, will be rereading this one for sure.

@lotrefcp - Hidden Away (Javi P x f!reader)

i'm obsessed with a no nonsense reader with just as much attitude/sass as javi does lol i just kept reading going GET HIS ASS. an excellent start to a universe i'm excited to sink my teeth into!

@beefrobeefcal - On the Waterfront (Frankie x f!reader)

oh, this is dark. i love the vibes immediately. i've had a weird fascination with the mafia for most of my life and this has that air about it. a dark, chubby mob boss!frankie is right up my alley for sure. i love that he's still frankie tho. sensible, practical, but with an edge. mind the warnings.

@flightlessangelwings - La Estrella de Mi Vida (Javi G x f!reader)

ahhh so romantic and so tragic!! i swear, it's impossible to make javi unappealing but this fic is just so sweet and manages to make me love him even more (somehow). but i love the added drama and tension from outside forces!! i need to read the rest of it asap!

@littlemisspascal - Rockford & Roan (Tim x f!reader)

my god, i love this?? i'm not usually one for superpowers/soulmate au's but i'm in love with the practicality of this? it feels otherworldly without being too much and it's very grounded. i love the reader and the way tim is written is so believable. i love that we as a fandom have created such a visceral image of this character from only a minute's worth of footage!

@something-tofightfor & @the-blind-assassin-12 - Aphelion (Oberyn x Ellaria & f!reader)

goddd the imagery painted in this one. so heartbreaking. absolutely breathtaking. i'm a slut for vampires and i'm a slut for oberyn/ellaria. this is absolutely something i will be reading the rest of lol

@bluestar22x - The Rockford Files (Tim x f!reader)

ok this is insanely good. one of my favorite books of all time is "red dragon" by thomas harris and i felt like i was reading that again while i read this. the details of the case and the cadence of everything was top notch. obsessed with the psychic element thrown in there and i'm beyond excited to see where tim and psy end up next!

bonus:

@sweetenerobert - Fiction vs Reality (Tommy Miller x m!reader)

ohhhh my god. you give me a bisexual tattoo artist tommy miller with stretched ears and i'm supposed to be normal about it??? UNLIKELY. i am extremely tempted to edit this into reality ngl but my god. this was so fucking hot lmao

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #ezra prospect fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction #dieter bravo fanfiction #marcus moreno fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #marcus pike fanfiction #tim rockford fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #maxwell lord fanfiction #max lord fanfiction #javi gutierrez fanfiction #oberyn martell fanfiction #tommy miller fanfiction #swfe #recs #fics

[ladamedusoif]

A Merry Fic-Mas: Masterlist

Inspired by this December prompt list.

31 days. 31 (hopefully) stories. 12 Pedro boys.

Starry Nights (Joel Miller)

Baking (Dieter Bravo)

Hot Chocolate (Marcus Pike)

Scarf (Javi Gutierrez)

Music (Marcus Moreno)

Snowflakes (Javier Peña)

Joy (Din Djarin)

Sweets (Frankie Morales)

Fuzzy socks (Joel Miller)

Sleigh ride (Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels)

Stars (Ezra)

Mulled wine (Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels)

Candles (Frankie Morales)

Books (Professor!Ben - Mr Ben AU)

Ornaments (Din Djarin)

Snowball fight (Javi Gutierrez)

Miracle (Javier Peña)

Christmas market (Marcus Pike)

Apron (Marcus Moreno)

Coming home (Dave York)

Wrapping paper (Joel Miller)

Christmas tree (Professor!Ben - Mr Ben AU)

Fairy lights (Frankie Morales)

Secrets (Marcus Pike)

Family (Din Djarin)

Cookies (Tim Rockford)

Reunions (The Thief - Casillero del Diablo)

Snowman (Dieter Bravo)

Wishes

Silence

Fireworks

#a merry fic-mas #holiday fic calendar #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #dieter bravo fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #marcus pike fanfiction #pedrostories #ezra prospect fanfiction #mr ben snl #javi gutierrez fanfiction #agent whiskey fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction #dave york fanfiction #marcus moreno fanfiction #tim rockford fanfiction #the thief casillero del diablo

[beskarandblasters]

An appreciation for the “small” fic writers

Hello! I wanted to create this rec for smaller fic writers (about 1,000 followers or less) because I know how it feels to be discouraged by the amount of notes you get and the amount of followers you have. So I made a post asking for your favorite small creators (including self recs you guys sent in and some of my favorites, too!) and here is that list! The banner is by the lovely theywhowriteandknowthings who I would mention here but they’re actually featured on the list below 👀🩷

Without further ado I present to you,

Some “smaller” Pedro Pascal writers listed in alphabetical order order along with what Pedro boys they write for! 🩷 (RPF about Pedro is not included)

@amanitacowboy - Javi P

@atticrissfinch - Joel & Javi P

@avastrasposts - Frankie

@beefrobeefcal - Frankie, Joel, Dave & Javi P

@bluestar22x - Din, Javi P, Pero, Javi G, Frankie, Tim, Marcus M, Marcus P, Joel & Whiskey

@bonezone44 - Joel & Ezra

@chaoticgeminate - Javi P, Javi G, Dieter, Pero, Frankie, Maxwell, Whiskey, Din, Marcus P, Marcus M, Zach & Mr. Ben

@cool-iguana - Din, Joel & Javi P

@coulsons-fullmetal-cellist - Dieter

@dark-scape - Joel

@decembermidnight - Din

@diversemediums - Javi P & Din

@frenchiereading - Frankie & Joel

@gmno-writes - Javi P, Din, Frankie, Joel, Dieter & Marcus P

@iamskyereads - Ezra

@idolatrybarbie - Frankie

@inthe-dark-tonight - Joel

@intheorangebedroom - Frankie

@ishabull - Marcus P & Din

@jenispunk - Joel

@julesonrecord - Joel, Whiskey, Ezra, Frankie & Dieter

@katareyoudrilling - Joel, Dave, Marcus P, Frankie, Javi P & Dieter

@kedsandtubesocks - Din, Javi P, Whiskey, Dieter & Marcus P

@kiwisbell - Javi P, Joel, Frankie, Din, Dave & Javi G

@ladamedusoif - Joel, Javi P, Mr. Ben, Din, The Thief & Ortega

@lahooozaherr - Din & Whiskey

@lincolndjarin - Din & Joel

@lovers-liability - Joel

@mandoisapunk - Din, Joel & Javi P

@milla-frenchy - Joel & Javi P

@missredherring - Tim, Pedro Across the Street, Oberyn, Maxwell, Marcus M, Marcus P, Joel, Frankie, Ezra, Din, Dieter & Whiskey

@mondaychildsworld - Din & Joel

@morallyinept - various Pedro boys, like pretty much all of them!

@ohforficsake - Frankie

@pamasaur - Joel

@pascalsbby - Joel, Whiskey, & Javi P

@penvisions - Joel, Frankie, Din & Javi P

@pimosworld - Frankie & Joel

@princessanglophile - Oberyn

@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin - Joel, Javi P & Frankie

@rhoorl - Dieter & Frankie

@romanarose - Joel & Frankie

@sin-djarin - Joel

@sirowsky - Joel, Javi P, Javi G, Frankie, Din, Marcus M, Marcus P, Pero & Dave

@secretelephanttattoo Joel, Marcus P, & Javi P

@sofasoap - Din

@sp00kymulderr - Javi P, Ezra, Marcus P, Joel, Dieter & Din

@stardustandskycrystals - Joel, Whiskey, Marcus M, Javi G, Dieter, Ezra & Javi P

@thelightsandtheroses - Dieter, Joel, Frankie & Javi P

@theywhowriteandknowthings - Din, Joel, Frankie, Javi P, Javi G, Dave, Dieter & Max

Part two!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #javier peña fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #ezra prospect fanfiction #javi gutierrez fanfiction #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus moreno fanfiction #oberyn martell fanfiction #max phillips fanfiction #dieter bravo fanfiction #tim rockford fanfiction #agent whiskey fanfiction

[netherfeildren]

Forfeiting My Mystique

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader

Summary: You're a girl made of golden gossamer, a work of art come to life, and Ezra, well he's dedicated his life to collecting beautiful things.

-OR-

An Ezra Art Collector AU

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: voyeurism; kind of objectifying? (not sure how to tag the strange shit going on here); ezra’s weird; mommy issues; references to past childhood abuse; touch aversion/touch starved (at the same time); sugar daddy vibes; size difference; oral sex (f! receiving); butt stuff lite; dom/sub undertones; power dynamics; self esteem issues x2; panty thieving; masturbation; obsessive behavior; possessive behavior; brief mention of recreational drug use; brief discussion of parent death

A/N: This is extremely self indulgent - basically I wrote it for me, but you guys can read it too. I know I took some liberties with Ezra's characterization but whatever.

Inspo (and some of the dialogue) pulled from Lenny Kravitz’s Paris town house Vogue tour, Jeremy Strong’s favorite things GQ interview, and “Marianne” from Delta of Venus by Anaïs Nin.

Title is from the poem by the same name by Kaveh Akbar.

Word Count: 12K

Read on AO3

Ezra has always loved beautiful things. Since he was a child, his mother taught him to instill an appreciation for beauty into all facets of his world. She herself, a gorgeously beautiful creature, was well versed in such a life. But beautiful as she was, she was also cruel, selfish, capricious to her very core, and she’d turned him into a strange amalgamation of a man by proxy. At once also cruel and selfish and capricious, but hurt and soft and gnarled, as well, so that he was also made gentle and aware and hopeful. That above all else, his greatest weakness, always hopeful. Perhaps, to the point of naivety, the point of peril. For he looked for beauty in all things, and to do that, he was forced to bestow his hopeful eye upon even the ugly and harsh things of the world. 

And so he’d dedicated his life to finding those beautiful things. An art collector by virtue, they called him. A vulture, a scavenger, a treasure hunter. A man full of greed and pride, demons and too much money. All he thought of himself as, was hungry. So yes, perhaps a scavenger, a morsel of greed within the marrow of his bones, always looking for the next sublime artifact, painting, statue – person. But he also liked to think of himself as a protector of those beautiful things, of historic things. Things that changed the very face of humanity, shifted the tide of the world. A collector – always in search of the next life changing sight. Always certain the world was filled with endless possibilities for beauty, for loveliness, for sensuality, for something to captivate, to overwhelm him.

-

The first thing he sees are your feet. Standing in the gallery over from the one you’re inhabiting, people he doesnt know or give a fuck about talking at him, schmoozing and preening and prostrating themselves. Probably hoping he’ll cough up a couple million euro for whatever cause they’re pretending to crusade behind at the moment. He can see only the quarter bottom half of the famed performance artist he’d heard so much about. The entire exhibit tonight had been built around you, and it had the whole of Paris raving and ravenous for a piece of the lovely morsel they so claimed you posed as. Shallow and vain creatures that the peers of his echelon were, they were easily amused and easily bored by the smallest passing fads. At once desperate to be the first to see or speak of a thing, and consequently, the first to discard it as dépassé. 

He’d made the trek all the way to the Left Bank from his townhouse in the 16th arrondissement, to see the performance of the woman whom his associate, Oruf, had said would change the way he thought of a living creature forevermore. Big words from a little man, Ezra had no real inclination to believe. 

The angle of the wall blocks most of you from his view – granting him the sight of only your knees down. Your feet are small, he can see the tiny square shape of your nails, the gleam of them under the soft warm overhead light – lying on your side, one slotted above the other. The fine architecture of your ankles – delicate, the blue hued veins crawling like vines up the top of your foot, lost to the pale of your skin. The smooth, glossy slope of your calf, up to the flat round of your patella. It’s all he can admire from where he stands. Pretty legs, but nothing to lose one’s head over so far. 

The person talking at him is interminably long winded. Ezra would like nothing more than to beg them to shut the fuck up and be on his way. He wants another drink. He wants to see you in full. He’d heard so much about the woman sitting for the live art exhibit. You’d been heralded into a creature of myth by the wagging tongues of Paris. He wanted to discern for himself the level of sanctity you deserved. He wanted to see your face. 

Finally, he’s able to demure from the conversation, the promise of ten million euro for the charity of the sycophant’s choice, promised off-handedly – any amount of money would’ve been too little to get the gaping, begging maw to quit it’s yapping. 

He slinks along the shadows of the walls, a vulture in its natural habitat. The lights brought down to a low warm hue, meant to shape itself along the contours of your skin, bring out the soft gleam within you. Surely the oldest trick in the book, that of light and shadows. He moves further into the room slowly, your back to him. The plush round of your bottom comes into view, two little dimples gracing the low of your back, the notches of your spine, up, up, to the heavy mantle of your hair. You’re resting on your hip, your torso twisted so your chest is pressed to the chaise you lounge on, your head laying cradled in the circle of your bent arms. There is a tiny, delicate outline of a sparrow tattooed at your shoulder. He watches the slow rise and fall of your back, the shadow of your ribs – he’d feed you more if you were his. The thought comes unbidden – a little shocking – a lovely bottom, beautiful, long hair, but for a man like Ezra – one who so wholly avoided any sort of ownership by another or over another, the thought of such intimacy, something to cause revulsion, not desire, coming from his own psyche, it’s almost distressing to acknowledge as his own. 

The crown of your head gleams like a halo in the soft overhead gallery light. The room is muted, voices hushed, and the patrons rove around your unmoving body, the rhythm of your breath the only discernible sign of life on your form from back here. Oruf had claimed that you did not move a single millimeter during the entirety of the three hour long performance. He sure as fuck didn’t believe that. He was having a quite, self proclaimed, contrary and bitter season, by his own choosing, and was prone to bouts of obstinance and general disagreement at anything and everything that presented itself to him. He was choosing, as of now, to not believe in your myth.

He moves further around the center where you lay in repose. He needs to see your face. That will give him the answer he’s come here for. 

There’s a large group standing right in front of you – rudely pointing, whispering, and he feels a surge of annoyance at the sight of them. You were here to be observed, appreciated, not fucking ogled like some cheap attraction, and he was here to see you – they needed to get the fuck out of his way. 

Finally, they shuffle off, leaving the space directly in front of you open. He makes the final round above your head, comes to stand before you. Oruf had said the only part of you that moved were your eyes.

They fall on Ezra now. 

It could have been as if, in that moment, you’d gotten up, naked as Venus, to shriek directly in his face. That powerful was the force behind your gaze – a punch to the gut, his mothers handbag swinging unexpectedly, purposefully into his stomach as he scurried meekly behind her as a child. 

He pulls his Jacques Marie Mage frames from his nose. He needs to look away from the searing power of your attention. He needs a moment to collect himself, taking deep breaths as he studies the glasses, runs the tip of his finger over the bridge. He’s held frozen in place by the feel of your gaze still upon him. 

He decides in that very instant he has to have you. 

When he looks back at you, your eyes flit away. He is dismissed – made ravenous. On the verge of tears, perhaps. Look back at me, look back at me, look back at me. What sort of reaction is this to a woman whose name he doesn’t even know? Nonsensical. Perhaps it’s the sleep deprivation – the edibles he’d downed before coming, maybe he’s having a bad reaction. 

But the gift of your slow, lazy gaze roves around the space he inhabits now, everywhere but directly at him, almost like a punishment for having looked away from you first – even for a second. 

He’s never considered the prospect of trying to buy a person. The moral question or dilemma of it. He decides he doesn’t necessarily care. Whatever he has to do to get you to leave this place with him, he’ll do. What he’ll be able to bring himself to let happen after that,  if he’ll even be able to touch you, be brave enough to let you touch him, remains to be seen. Inconsequential too, he finds. 

He circles the gallery for close to an hour before he can no longer help himself, can no longer feign casualness. The rest of the art here is pale and dull in the light of your luminescence. He finally comes to a stop in a corner diagonal from where you face, in the shadow of the sculpture of Paolo e Virginia. At this moment, he feels certain Puttinati prophecised your existence, to so depict the vision of reverence he’s feeling for you in this moment. 

The performance is three hours long. In that time you don’t move your body at all, Oruf was right – lying with the stillness of marble. The only thing that moves are your eyes, and you watch the patrons closely, examine them. Your gaze is part of the art, part of the power of it. 

The visage of you is shocking, not for your nudity, but because in a lifetime filled with unimaginably lovely things, you are, by far, the most magnificently gorgeous creature Ezra has ever laid eyes on. It is like a recurring bullet to the temple over and over again for the visceral shock you pull out of him. 

Finally, finally, your gaze falls on him again. The meeting of your eyes, like the strike of lightning against the earth. He can feel his cock thicken, grow heavy, just at the touch of your gaze. It’s voyeuristic – unexpected – he can’t remember the last time he got hard. He feels almost perverted, sporting an erection at the mere sight of you, surrounded by all these people in this crowded gallery.

He can’t see your breasts entirely, pressed to the chaise as they are, only the full, pale sides. He wonders desperately at the color of your nipples, the shade, the hue. He’d like to imprint it in his mind. Know the taste of them, as well, of all your skin – wonders if the color there matches that of the skin between your legs. The thought causes hunger to climb like fire up his chest into his throat, saliva pooling heavy in his mouth at the mere suggestion of your cunt in his mind.

His eyes leave you for a moment, to cast the wide net of his gaze around the room, at the other men. He wonders if they’re hard too, if only your naked skin, lying still in repose, has the power to make their blood rush, their muscles thicken. He is not pleased by the thought of that. And when he comes back to you, you’re still on him. Gaze roaming down his body, taking in the fine cashmere sweater, his perfectly tailored suit, built to hang in a precisely designed loose cut over his shoulders, down his long legs, the incongruous sneakers, back, back up to his face, the spot of blonde at the front of his hair. A single delicate eyebrow crooks in a minute arch at him. It is all the answer he needs

You are looking back at him. It’s all he needs to know. 

As the three hour mark comes to a head the lights dim even further until only a singular overhead spotlight falls upon your form. Your skin glows, seems to flare brighter for a single moment, and then a golden sheet of gossamer begins to slowly fall from the ceiling, and right before it lands upon your body, you finally move. Your body stretches, toes pointing and curling, long arms stretched in an arc over your head. The fine lines and slopes of your body coming into startling clarity for one moment, and then you turn over, away from him, where he can’t see your face anymore, and curl in on yourself. The golden gusset falls upon your coiled form, as if you’ve finally been put to rest. The lights dim until all that’s visible is the luminous gleam of the shroud over your curled body. 

You are a girl made of golden myth and gossamer, and he must have you. 

-

“Hello, Sparrow.” He steps into the small, warm space of your dressing room.

You turn to face him, you’ve been waiting for him. “Hello,” you say slowly. “You were watching me.”

“Everyone was watching you.”

“Not like you were–”

“No… not like I was.” His accent is some strange sort of concoction of eclectic European – at once French, but also slightly Germanic, with an inflection of deep American South at the end. The vowels and consonants rolling off his tongue, smooth and hypnotizing like the warm pour of honey, and then, suddenly, inflected with a bout of sharpness. Something that snaps you awake, forces you to come to attention, to pay attention to him. That was all it was really, you could tell, a forceful, demanding grab for attention at all times. He called it to himself, seduced the people around him into ardor. Whether they knowingly chose to be entranced or not, was not up to them.

“Ezra,” he gives an imitation of a little flourished bow. You give him your own name in return. “You were watching me back.” 

“I couldn’t help it.” He had demanded it of you, after all, no need to lie now. 

“I was wondering if you’d have dinner with me.” You turn back to continue packing your bag. 

“I’m not very hungry.” You feel him come closer, hear the subtle hint of pleading desperation in his sensual voice that has pleasure coiling deep in your belly. 

“A drink then.”

You’d like to be on clear ground with this man who you can see, even now, is an enigma not to be trifled with unconscionably. “Where? At your house?” you turn to crook a sardonic brow at him.

“Would you like me to take you to my house?”

“Yes. If that’s what you want too.” You’d already decided, didn’t see the point in prolonging the game. 

-

His security takes you out the back of the gallery, dark Maybach rolling smoothly up as soon as you reach the curb, and you feel the searing phantom  heat of his large palm hovering over the small of your back. 

He hasn’t touched you a single time yet, and everything within you is coiled tight, waiting for that first graze. 

He pulls the car door open for you himself, and then his driver is there, smoothly offering you his hand to help you step into the sleek interior. The leather beneath you is buttery chocolate brown and you press your thighs together. His security had taken your bag from you, and you felt bereft and listless without the protective clutch of it within your hands now. 

He follows after you, sliding gracefully onto the seat across. You can see he’s wearing two gold chains around his neck that rest in the dip of his collarbones, and your mouth waters at the sight. The car pulls quietly away from the curb and then you’re merging into the busy city traffic, ensconced in the quiet of this liminal space he’s stolen you into with him. 

He crosses one knee over the other, one thick arm thrown languidly over the back of the seat. You can see a small gold signet ring gracing his pinky – some sort of crest emblazoned on it. 

Fucking family crest kind of rich. God. You don’t know if you’re prepared for this. 

You cock your head to the side, the muscles in your neck are a little stiff and sore from holding your pose for so long, and you let your neck roll back on the head rest. 

He’s quiet, still observing, as if you’re still existing within the walls of the gallery, and not being spirited away to his home so that he might have his way with you. 

“Are you going to fuck me?” Might as well be blunt, you think, now that you’re here. He was so gorgeous in that room, watching you, circling you like a beast hunting in the wild. There was really no other way this night was destined to end, but with you beneath him, taking him into your cunt. 

“Would you like me to fuck you?”

“Yes.” He doesn’t respond, only gives you a melodic little non-committal hum, continues to look at you from the seat across with those deceptively guileless eyes. You want him to snatch you by the chin and spit in your mouth.

-

The drive ends in front of the grand façade of a pristine Parisian townhouse on a secluded street in the 16th arrondissement – flanked by national embassies, no less. 

You are very, very far from home. In a Paris you’ve not ventured into in all your years of living here. 

He helps you from the car, finally, finally, finally, thick palm wrapping entirely around the thin of your wrist. Everything within you coils and pulses, tight and wet. His skin is warm and dry, you can feel the pull of rough calluses on his palm. You’re sure he can feel the hammering staccato of your pulse through the thin membrane as you stare at the way his fingers overlap completely around the circumference of your limb.

He lets you step into the foyer ahead of him as one of his staff sweeps the door open for the two of you, ready and waiting for their master to return with a respectably quiet, monsieur, mademoiselle, in greeting. There’s a huge Basquiat in the entrance hall, across from the sweeping staircase.

“Lots of his art came my way,” he says at your obvious admiration, shock, desire to tuck tail and run back home. “We weren’t friends, but I was roommates with a guy he’d lived with. His last girlfriend was best friends with my girlfriend at the time, so when he died we had one of the first calls.”

“It’s wonderful–” Your voice is full of awe, eyes taking in a type of home you’ve never seen before up close like this. Something out of a picture book that sits on the coffee table of someone wishing for more. 

“How many bedrooms does it have?”

“Well… they get used for different things – so I’m not sure. Let’s call it eight.”

You huff a small laugh, run your finger along the keys of the opulent crystal Steinway. “Let’s call it eight, sure.”

Now that you’re here, that he hasn’t overtly said he’s brought you here for sex, you don’t really know what it is he wants from you. A bad thought, but an honest one. 

“Drink?”

“Yes, please.”

He leads you into an elegantly lush reception room, hovering hand again at the place above the small of your back. There’s a gargantuan crystal chandelier hanging at the center of the room, two enormous elephant tusks flank the elaborate mantelpiece. The room is a mix of eclectic eccentricities, both neutrally elegant and demure in its obvious wealth, but inflected with touches of vibrant color and idiosyncrasies to bring the room together in a way that you think must reflect the house’s owner. 

He moves to the bar, choosing the green bottle of twenty year Laphroaig and pours a knuckle into two crystal tumblers. He’s quiet, subdued, and the lack of small talk to fill the silence has the backs of your knees itching and sweating. 

There’s a glossy red panther sculpture prowling across a gold and ivory lacquered coffee table. He comes to hand your glass to you. “That’s a museum piece. I can’t remember where I got it, but it’s rare.” You can’t tell if he’s trying to boast, to impress you, or merely share his satisfaction at owning a piece of art worthy of a museum's gallery. You’d already discerned that at the Basquiat’s first glance, shit, at the first sight of the house. It was a veritable museum on its own. You were sure the number of museum pieces in every room were too many to count in a single night, nay week. 

You don’t sit as he goes to do, but start to slowly circle the room. An imitation of his slow roving of you earlier at the gallery. The peat whisky is bold and smoky, a surprising hint of something akin to seawater, but also mellowly sweet. You think that this must be what his skin tastes like, his come – an amalgamation of all the different flavors on the wheel. Saliva pools heavy on your tongue and you take a deeper sip, eyes flitting to him. 

“Three hours is a long time to lay so still,” he says. 

“It is. But I’m used to it by now.”

“You must be tired.”

“Not particularly – perhaps a bit stiff.”

“Have you been doing this for a long time?”

“Not so long, but not so short, either.”

“So just the right amount?”

“Yes.” He’s quiet for a moment then, still watching, watching, watching. His gaze upon you feels like the drag of a specter’s fingers along your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake. You wonder if this is how he felt while you watched him in the low light of the gallery. Hunted. But no, you imagine there isn’t anything that could make a man such as this feel like prey. 

“Can I draw you a bath?” You pause at this – firmer, more familiar ground, finally. This is what you’ve been waiting for. His request for you to get naked for him, to let him into your body. It’s what you want also. He’s not rushing this, and it’s making you feel unstable, unsure of the ground you’re treading here together. 

“Yes, I’d like that.”

-

He leads you upstairs, to one of the guest bedrooms. The en suite, one of his favorites in the house – dark marble tub in the center of the room under a low hanging crystal chandelier. The French windows let in the soft glow of the moon outside, and he draws the bath for you as you peer through the glass. The reflection of your face in the windows, eternally distracting. 

When the water is warm and ready, a splash of Neroli Portofino Body Oil poured under the stream, he turns to you. He’s hesitant – both of himself and you, equally. It’s been a long time since he’s touched a body not his own, and he feels the slight anxious tremor of his hands. Although he can’t be sure if that’s strictly attributed to nerves, or all the blood in his body pooling in his cock at the moment. 

“Can I take your clothes off?” said as gently as possible, so as not to spook you.

Your gaze is as direct as it was while you lay watching him, surrounded by half of Paris. “Yes.”

He starts at the tiny bow holding the front of your soft silk blouse together – the weave so fine, it’s almost translucent, and he can see the outline of your evasive nipples he’s been so desperate to see. He pulls on the string letting the neck of the blouse fall open, then down to the tiny pearl buttons holding the rest of it together. All without touching your skin. 

You’re panting, face already flushed, eyes bright, almost fevered. His balls are tight and heavy, ready to come, just with this. Just at the mere fucking vision of you ready and panting for him. His belly clenches and then he pushes the silk off the fine bones of your shoulders. The wings of your collarbones, the shadow of the dip in them the most tempting image he’s ever beheld in his entire life. He wants to dip his tongue into the tiny pool, fill them with ambrosia and drink directly from your skin. 

He feels his cock begin to leak. 

The zipper at the side of your skirt is next. He watches the rise and fall of your ribs, the tremble of your throat as he pulls it down slowly, revealing the rest of your skin to him. There’s a tiny lace thong around your hips, robin's egg blue. Oh, he will be stealing that for himself. 

He finally lets himself touch your skin as he pushes the scrap of lace down your legs, crouching smoothly to his knees to help you step out of it. He takes in the sight of your small feet up close now. The fine tendons of your musculature entirely too fucking beguiling. He ghosts the tip of a single finger over the top of your foot and you moan for him. So goddamn sweet and wanton. 

He unfolds to his full height and pockets your panties. To be inspected at a later time, pressed to his nose and mouth so that he might drink the scent of you down into himself. He tips his chin at the tub now, holding your wild gaze, breaths coming in short little gasps. Your cheeks are flushed the color of your nipples. The tiny wisps of hair at your neck and temples beginning to curl deliciously in the humidity of the bathroom. He could spill his seed just at the look in your eyes, he’s sure of it. 

“In,” he orders, crowds you towards the edge of the tub and grips the bend of your elbow between his thumb and index finger – as little contact as possible – to help you into the water. “Sit.”

You immediately obey, and that fills him with more pleasure than the sight of your naked skin. The control you’re granting him right now, allowing him the privilege of ordering you for the sake of his own comfort – he’s going to reward you very well for being so good for him.

He bends over the edge of the tub, hovering over your beseeching upturned face. He brushes his thumb softly over your full bottom lip. “Good girl.” Your eyes flutter shut, you look down into the water, a lovely pink blush blossoming over your cheeks. “Relax. Soak for a while.”

He can tell you want him. Badly. The flush of your cheeks down to your breasts, rosy little nipples peaked, your quick breath. That want, compounded doubly by his refusal so far to really touch you — his inability. The more he stays his hand, the more you want him, and the more you want him the harder his cock grows, the more frightened he becomes. He thinks it’s very true, that old adage, the harder you try to push a woman away from a man, the closer she will go to him by virtue of rebellion.

You sit in the warm bath for close to an hour, and he watches rapturously, hypnotized by the slick wet of the water rolling over your skin, from his seat on an ottoman at the center of the room. The weight of his gaze on your skin, almost violent in its intense desire. He wants to lick every single droplet from your body and then bite into the heavy lush weight of your tits until his teeth are imprinted in the soft flesh, bruises sucked into the pale globes. He hopes you’ll let him. He hopes he’ll let himself. 

Your returning look is equally wanton. He watches your gaze trained and hungry on the heft of his cock hiding beneath his trousers. You spread your legs for him beneath the water as you wash yourself, putting on another show, private, just for him. An unjustly jealous wrath stirs within him, coiled and hissing, at the thought of any other human on earth ever getting to see you the way he is now. Largely a passive man, the violence that surges within him has him surprised and not, in equal measures. For he thinks that no being ever having beheld you, could ever possibly be driven to feel any other way than obsessively possessive over such a creature as yourself. You’re like a siren in this moment, languishing in the warm water of his bath, in his house, where you agreed to come with him tonight. A nymph willingly slinking into the depth of Tartarus, knowing she’s in peril of being wholly devoured by the beasts that lay at its depths, and still going anyways. 

He helps you out after a while, tiny little fingers and toes soaked to wrinkles, elbow once again caught between his two fingers, and the heat rolling off your skin sears him. Has a violent tremble running jaggedly down his vertebrae. 

He wraps you in a plush white towel, pulled from the warming rack, helps you dry your long hair. Then goes to his room for one of his shirts to put you in. He pulls one he’d worn a few days ago off the pile from the chair in the corner. He wants to know you’re sleeping in something that’s already been on his skin, that smells like him, that you’re soaking now in his own scent. 

As he pulls the towel from around your body to once again reveal your bare form to him he presses a soft kiss to your naked waist – can’t help himself, the soft slope entirely too beguiling. Overtaking any apprehensions he may have, and his gut clenches with fear and desire. He can feel the weeping of his cock dribble down his thigh as he presses his lips to the warm, fragrant skin. 

You’re quiet, watching him, letting him do with you as he wants. His own little sentient doll, created for his pleasure only. “I have a farm in Brazil,” he says. He rounds your form, starts to braid the long strands of your hair into a single plait. You put up no protest – it feels like water, slipping through his hands.  “We grow organic fruit and vegetables and there’s cows, lots of cows. We never kill them, they just live there, graze.” One of his favorite places in the entire world, but perhaps, second to the place he resides now, staring at you, dressing you, touching your hair. “I love it there, I’ll take you.”

“Okay,” you say easily. “I’d like that,” the gift of the gentle curve of your smile. He wants to lick into your mouth, fuck you with his tongue, slap your pussy and watch the blood rush to the surface, feel the tight clench of your asshole as he fills you with his come. 

“Will you let me watch you play with your cunt?” he asks gently.

“Won’t you do it?”

“I’m scared to touch you yet – to find out if you’re actually real.” He feels an uncharacteristically self conscious blush mar his cheeks. “I–I’m not ready. I want to watch first.” He comes to kneel between your parted thighs that dangle off the high bed. “Pet your cunt for me – show me how you like it, sweet girl. Please.” He is not above begging. Not for this. Not for you – for the sight of you playing with your wet, pink pussy. 

You spread your legs wider, give him the tantalizing peak of your bare sex, your glistening folds. You’re already fucking wet for him. He feels an unrestrained growl claw up his throat like fire. His mouth goes dry, parched. The only way to sate himself, to drink straight from the source of your glossy slick. 

You press your fingers to the pearl of your clit, swollen and needy already, he can see. You start to swirl little circles over your slippery flesh, your wet mouth falling open in a gasp. “That’s it, yeah–” he whispers, bringing his face in closer to the apex of your thighs so he can smell you directly from the source. His eyes flutter as he breathes in the scent of you, the deep amber and citrus from the bath oil, but beneath that, entwined in the rich notes, the musky scent of you. Fucking mouthwatering. He hears himself moan, the sound pulled almost unconsciously from his body. 

“Inside– put your fingers inside. Let me see you fuck yourself.” You press a single finger in, all the way to the last knuckle, and start to rock your hips. He can feel your gaze on his face, the weight of it heavy and pleading.

“Ezra– p–please, please, you do it,” you beg, let your head roll back as you press another finger in and start to rock your clit against the mound of your palm in earnest.

“But you’re doing so well, sweet girl. About to make that little cunt come for me. Look–” He gives you the weight of a single palm on the bend of your knee and you moan deep and ragged at just that compact touch. He can’t help himself – he pulls the edge of the t-shirt up to bare your tits to him and holds it up against the base of your throat where he cradles the delicate column in his hand – the entire large span of him completely engulfing your smallness. “Your thighs are trembling, treasure. You’re going to do it just for me, aren’t you?.”

“Y–Yes, yes–” 

He pushes your knee in his grasp wider, opening you more for the fileting of gaze. “Make yourself come – I want to see it. Fucking come,” it’s a demand you answer, just the sound of it causing the heat of your skin to seemingly ricochet even higher. You start to come – he watches the clenching of the muscles in your stomach as you grind your fingers deep. He can hear how wet you are, the sopping wet squelch of your pulsing cunt, and he worries for one second that he’s about to come in his pants. 

You let out a reed high mewl, like you’re singing just for him. “What a good, good girl you are,” he praises, and your eyes flutter shut, pulling your fingers away so that he’s left to admire the clenching of your stretched hole. He can see the glossy shine of your slick sliding down the crevice of your ass, and he wants to lick through your sticky arousal so fucking badly he bites down on his cheek until he tastes blood. He bends his head to press his brow to the edge of the bed between your spread thighs, tightening his grip around your knee until you whimper in pain. He loosens his hold immediately, thumb brushing soothingly over the bend before he stands, lets out a long breath. He stares down at your panting, flushed form. Wet and sated after your orgasm. Fuck all the art in the world. He’d set fire to every single masterpiece he owns in this very moment if he was granted the gift of getting to watch you come even one single time more. 

He passes his palm over his mouth, feeling the soft bristles of his scruff. He’d like to see the smooth insides of your thighs rubbed raw with it, he’d like to see the stretch of your cunt as he stuffs you full of himself, the milky white of his spend leaking from all your holes. 

“It’s time to put you to bed,” he says instead. 

Your brow creases in the sweetest little frown, red mouth puckering, still panting. “You’re not staying?” 

“No, sweet girl. I think it’s best if you sleep here tonight. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“But–”

“It’s alright. There’s no rush.” He leans over you to press a lingering kiss to your brow, pulls his shirt down to cover your breasts. You give him a little whimper, and he allows your hand to come up to clutch the thick swell of his bicep, the heavy muscle there bunching at the feel of your grip. He moves to help you settle beneath the silk duvet, pleased beyond belief at the sight of you tucked into a bed in his home, wearing his clothes, flushed and wearing the sated look of a recent orgasm. 

“Goodnight, treasure.”

“Goodnight, Ezra.”

-

You find his room later. You can’t help yourself, following the glow of the soft light spilling between the crack of his slightly open door, like he’d left you a bread crumb trail to follow, like he knew you’d come searching. You can’t sleep knowing he’s so close, this dazzling creature come straight from a dream. Twisting and turning in the plush monstrosity of a bed he’d left you in. His shirt, butter soft, the dark, gray blue swimming around your much smaller frame. It smells like him, his cologne – you recognize the scent of Le Labo Another 13. Musky with the softest most subtle hint of jasmine, paired with something earthier – greener, and folded between all that: the soft saltiness of his sweat.  Why would you sleep when a figure from your very fantasies was right here in the flesh. Your cunt clenches, wet and aching, even after he’d watched you make yourself come. You need more, want to feel the press of his cock inside of you, the heavy weight of it. 

He’s sitting up in bed, reading something on an iPad, glasses propped low on his nose. He looks up at your small knock, not waiting for his permission to slip inside. 

“I promise, I’ll be good.” You hold your hands up in surrender. “I won’t touch you. We can put a pillow between us if you like.” You move towards the bed.

There’s a large stack of books sitting on his bedside table, flooded by the warm moss stained light of the antique Tiffany lamp. A single idiosyncrasy of old world charm in a room made stark by its bright modernity. The pile is made up of a book of paintings by Howard Hodgkin, the diaries of Alma Mahler, The Spectator Bird by Wallace Stegner, the fourth volume of In Search of Lost Time – you appreciate his excellent taste – and at the very top, laying open, facedown, as if he’d just put it down a moment ago, My Struggle by Karl Ove Knausgaard. You find it fascinating to see a book that spoke of life in such a granular way — realistic, simple, a normal man in a normal world, speaking in such extensive, caring detail on the small things in his life — on the bedside table of this enigma, this person who seemed to be, by far and large, a different species to all other men you’d ever met before. To see the spine so cracked and worn — as if he’d read it over and over again, in search of the equation for that simplicity, to thus inject into his own existence – a way to embalm his own world in such appreciation for the small but infinitely significant moments. You wonder if it’s taught him much— if he’s been able to find and implement whatever it was he’d searched for through so many reads. 

“Alright,” he says easily, but the look in his eyes is slightly wary. You recognize Glenn Gould’s rendition of the Goldberg Variations playing softly on the surround sound as you crawl into his bed – under the silk smooth sheets, bringing a pillow to blockade you from him, protect him. You don’t want him to be uncomfortable, but you desperately want to be close to him also. The two of you have barely talked tonight – too caught up in the observation of one another, like two animals circling in the wild. You want to talk to him. Want to hear the sound of his deep voice vibrate through your nerve endings. 

“Intimacy is… difficult for me,” he says slowly, swallowing. “It’s hard for me to get close to people… emotionally, physically. I need time to — I suppose, to warm up to them.”

“That’s — that’s okay. I understand,” you say, because you do, because you’re the same in many ways. 

“It’s why I love art,” he continues. “You can be close to something, feel its warmth, beauty – whatever feeling it is the artist intended to pull out of you, from a distance. Untouched – it’s untouchable. That comforts me for some reason.”

“I think – I think I understand that as well. Something, perhaps, about the idea of a thing remaining as it was initially conceived as, for all time, undisturbed by outside influences.”

“Yes – yes, exactly.” His eyes are alive with the fire of being understood.

You look down at his straining erection. You can’t help it. “You’re hard,” you say. You want to touch him so badly it’s a physical ache inside of you. 

“I’ve been hard since I first saw you.”

“Let me help.”

He shakes his head, “Not yet.”

“I was embarrassed that the other patrons would be able to tell how wet my pussy was lying there staring at you.” Shocking words. His eyes flutter shut, fuck, he murmurs under his breath, brings his hand up to rub at his jaw. You’ve noticed he does that a lot – a tell of sorts. He takes several deep breaths, the tension seeming to seep out of his body by sheer force of will. 

You take him in as he settles back into the pillows, relaxing, or at least pretending to. His face, smooth and serene, laying there watching you, despite his heavy erection, but the look in his eyes – it’s also slightly provoking. As if he wants you to challenge him, question him, but also afraid, perhaps, that you’ll force his hand, that he’ll be forced to give in to what you both want before he’s ready. You decide to choose mercy – change the subject. More curious to see how he chooses to play this out.

“Let’s play the question game.”

“The question game?”

“Yes.”

“Very well,” he turns to lay on his side, facing you. Both of your hands are tucked beneath your cheeks. He’s wearing a soft, worn sweater, a tiny hole at the collar, the sleeves stretched and overly long. Oh, this may just be too much for you to handle. 

“We’ll start with something easy – what’s your favorite color?”

“That’s easy?”

“Yes.” You roll your eyes at him, laughing.

“Depends on the day,” he says very seriously. His blinks are slow, his pupils huge and dilated in the warm light of the lamp. You wonder if he’s taken something. Every time he blinks the thick fringe of his lashes fans over his cheeks, the pause of his languor allows you a moment to appreciate them.

“That’s not an answer – you have to give a real answer.” You want to reach your finger out and brush along that thick fringe, through the patchy hair on his face, threaded through with the smallest hint of silver, stick your nose in his hair and smell him right at the source. 

“It’s the only real answer there is – no one’s favorite color stays their favorite color forever.”

“Do you do this a lot?”

“What’s that?”

“Make things purposely difficult.”

A flash of his brilliant white teeth, “Oh, always.” You want very badly for him to bite into your flesh. 

“Okay, fine. What’s your favorite color right now?”

Without hesitation: “The color of your eyes – they’re very strange,” you can tell it’s a compliment, and he finally touches you again. A single finger, just the tip, to the point of your chin, tilting your head back slightly for his inspection, as if you were one of the pieces in his collection. You think you may become one by the end of this. You think you’d like that very much. You can feel the slight edge of his fingernail dig into your soft skin. 

“I already agreed to fuck you. You don’t have to woo me,” you breathe. You realize that, as of yet, he’s not overtly asked you to have sex with him – you throw the words out anyways, hoping to provoke him. This is too much. This man is too much. You don’t know what it is about him, but you want him desperately, like no one you’ve ever wanted before. You want him to overwhelm you – to take you by force. To take all choice and will and autonomy from your hands. You don’t care what will come of this, what will become of you after he’s done with you, if he discards you, forgets you –  none of that matters. All you care about, in this moment, is that he finally decides to take you, that he gives you the opportunity to let go, to relinquish control. To unfold from the pose for just a moment. A slightly deranged spark fizzes in your belly. Your heart pinches a burning little pain at the thought that he hasn’t kissed you yet, that you still don’t know the taste of his mouth. 

“None of my answers satisfy you. And yes, I do need to woo you. I find it very necessary.”

You try and emulate an unaffected scoff, his finger is still on your chin, but you feel your brow unwittingly fold into a confused frown. There is a tight knot of want coiled at the very center of you, burning hot and smoldering, and you need him to pick it apart with these strong fingers. He takes his hand away. The look on his face is very telling. He can read everything going on in your mind, you can tell. He looks like the cat that ate the goddamn canary. You try and take a deep, calming breath. “Alright, now you have to ask me one?” you divert. 

“Me?”

“Yes, you – that’s how the game works. I do one, you do one.”

“Alright,” he’s quiet for a second, contemplating, “Do you have siblings?”

“No, I’m an only child. Do you?”

“I had a brother, Damon. He died when we were younger.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Yes, well– it was a very long time ago. But thank you. His daughter, Cee, is my ward now. ” Not his niece, not someone mentioned in any capacity as his family. The connection, maintained as if at a distance — his ward — cold. But he gives himself away, his tender vulnerability made transparent, with the sudden flash of bright fondness in his eyes at her name, despite his trying to remain aloof. You are not so easily fooled. You see him despite his attempts to deflect from the true core of himself. 

His gaze is so mercurial – at once relaxed, uncaring, and then flaring into something bright hot like a flash fire. But remote, remote always. Like the very center of him, his true gaze is very far away, very deep within him, and this gaze, the one he presents to the world, is merely a farce, a mask. A shroud he pulls over himself to keep others out. His own golden gossamer. You’re shocked that he’s shared this with you. 

“My parents died when I was very young,” you offer, your own morsel of ragged soul in the face of his sudden vulnerability. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, as well.”

“It wasn’t so bad, after the fact. I went to live with my aunt – my mother’s sister. She was a dancer. My childhood was… unconventional, but wonderful.”

“What about it was unconventional?”

You laugh a little, looking up at the coffered ceiling above you, the thick beams a rich, glossy mahogany. You feel his gaze on your face like a brand. He has not stopped looking at you since he first started. In a sea of years being observed, his gaze is singular in the pleasure it brings you.

“She was a dancer. I mean—” you hum, “What wasn’t unconventional about it? We lived in New York for several years, then Budapest for a time, and then she brought us here, to Paris, where we stayed until her death – where I’ve stayed since. Her girlfriends were always around – fellow dancers, costumes and makeup, drinking and men. They taught me how to smoke when I was eight — Gauloises like a fucking chimney, at all hours of the day, after that — I forced myself to stop a few years ago. Now I only have one on special occasions, sometimes.” He looks at you like he knows you’re the sort to make a special occasion out of a trip to the market. “She had many lovers. Parties… disaster everywhere, but the riotous, happy sort – not the tragic kind.”

“No?”

“No. Perhaps, to the outside eye it may have appeared different… I don’t know. No life for a child, I think. But it was wonderful. She always protected me. But– but never like a mother. She was never like a mother – more like – a friend, or an older sister.” You laugh fondly at the memories, but also a little sadly. In the eyes of an adult now, you’d never want such a life for a child of your own, as exciting as it was at the time.

“One time someone told me I ended up as I did, naked for the world to ogle at, as a means to earn money, because of her. Because of how she was. And perhaps they were right, but… but not in the way they meant —  to insult me. She taught me what art was, gave me the means to turn myself into it.” 

“Who the fuck said that to you?” His tone makes you look back at him now. All the mystery in his gaze is gone, only fury burns now – very clearly. If he’d let you, you’d cup his cheek, soothe him. 

You can see he isn’t ready yet, though. So all you say is: no one that really mattered – the truth, but you can see that it does not soothe him. 

 “What about you? What was your mother like?” You can appreciate how easily distracted he pretends to be, the deception of it, merely another shroud. 

Another one of his long pauses, filled with his eyes on you. He gives you the gift of his touch again. Thick fingers picking up a strand of your hair, running it between his grasp. You feel the slight ghost-like tingle of the tug along your scalp, there but also not, and a jerking shiver moves through you. All the hair on your body standing on end. Fuck, this man. 

“She was very beautiful – very cruel,” he says slowly, mesmerized by your hair sliding through his fingers. 

“Cruel to you?”

“To the world.”

“Why?”

“But also me.” Succinct in its truth. The thought is a terrible one – for anyone to have been cruel to this magnificent dream of a man. The backs of your eyes pinch. Another long pause. “Hmm,” he tilts his head side to side, still sliding your hair through his fingers, twisting it gently around his hair. He gives it a tiny tug, and you want to scoot forward, even just the smallest bit, just to be a little closer to him, to feel the brush of his belly against yours with the movement of his breathing. “It’s difficult to say – unhappiness, bitterness, boredom. A great and complicated concoction of things that made her into the eternally complex creature she was.”

“She died?”

“Yes. She killed herself.”

“Ezra– I’m so sorry,” the words leave you choked and breathless. 

He says it so plainly, starkly, like a slap to the face, one not meant to cause pain or harm, but shock. One meant to cause fear, something to say, look at how fucked up I am, stay away or I’ll infect you with it too. You scoot closer now, you can’t help it, and he goes immediately still, frozen – eyes wide, hesitant, but you don’t touch him. Your hair is still clutched in his hand, and his eyes move back and forth between your own and his hold on you. You’re close enough now, though, that you can feel the heat rolling off his body. Your eyes flutter shut, you say again: “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“She was too vain to grow to old age.” You feel him relax, comforted by the indication that you’re not going to touch him just yet. “I think she felt it was the only recourse for her.”

You open your eyes again, and he’s still staring at you. You so badly want to know what he’s thinking, to feel the press of his mouth against yours, to know the taste of his tongue, the feel of his incisors pressing into your skin. 

You pivot three-sixty again: “Do you want kids?” He lets out a loud barking laugh at that, head thrown back so the tendons in his neck jump out starkly. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Wet and jealous. 

“This is a very difficult game,” he says, giving you a sly look. 

“We don’t have to play anymore, if you don’t want to.” A great lie – you never want to stop playing with him. 

“No, I want to keep going.” He slides his whole hand into your hair now, palm cupping the entire side of your head in its broad expanse, and you can’t help the desperate moan that claws out of your throat. His responding hum is all-knowing.  “I don’t know. But I love being… I like being able to imagine it.”

Your mind has been lost to a daze induced by the heat of his palm. “Children?” you murmur.

“Yes.”

Your fingers are twisted into the front of your shirt, clawing at yourself to maintain respect for his boundaries. “I want them. Lots of them. I hated being an only child. I always felt alone. I want to have lots of babies.” And his eyes flare with heat at that. The first blazing sign of lust in them tonight. Everything else before this, you realize, was merely a low simmering boil. The fist in your hair tightens so that your head tilts back slightly, the line of your throat exposed for his eyes to follow. 

“Lots of them?” You nod your head minutely, wide eyed, equally ensnared by that look in his gaze as you are by his hand. 

“Then you shall have them, Sparrow.” You let out a shuddering breath, turn your face into the pillow, enjoying the slight pull to your sensitive scalp as his hand follows, try to breathe deep, temper your racing heart. You’re so wet, you can feel it seeping out of you in a constant throbbing stream. The conversation serving as a more intense form of foreplay than anything else you’ve ever done with a man. 

“It’s my turn again. When was the last time you fucked someone?” Blunt – thrown at your face to throw you off kilter. Oh, he fucking loves this. A broken little whimper claws out of your throat at that. Your cheeks are flushed, you can feel them burning, and he knows exactly what he’s doing. The smug look in his eyes taunts you, tells you he knows just how soaked you are. But it is also wild, as wanting as you are. 

“Hmm?” he presses.

“Three years ago.” It’s his turn to be shocked now. You see the pause of surprise in that bright light within his gaze. 

“Three years? Why?”

“You’re not the only one who finds it difficult to be close to people.”

“And yet you agreed to come here with me?”

“And yet I agreed to come here with you.” You don’t return the question. You wouldn’t like to know, you don’t think. And you can tell he sees that in your gaze, for he doesn’t offer up the information either. You like the mystique of him. Like some eldritch beast, a deity of old, something amorphous, not to be contained or understood. The unknowable aspect of him is appealing to you for reasons you haven't quite figured out yet, despite this game of questions you’re flirting with. 

You go next: “Are you lonely?”

“Yes, very.” A pause, and then: “You are too.” This is no question. He can see it, recognizes the same scent of it that permeates the air around him, following you. “You seemed it, laying in the center of that crowded room, naked – bared for everyone to see.” It is not said cruelly. He is only telling you that which you already know about yourself, that which is plain for the whole world to see. “And then shrouded in gold, as if you wanted to hide that vein of aloneness that flows through you – it didn’t work very well.”

“Do you think everyone could see it?”

“No.” Good. You only wanted him. 

You take another turn, you can’t help but break the rules with him. “Have you ever been with someone who– who you didn’t really want to be with, but you were– you were so lonely and needed… something… or someone?” All the surety you’d posed your previous questions with is gone now. He’s already discerned so much of you, what’s a little more bared skin? “So you just– you just settled for being with that person even though you knew it was wrong, and the only thing on your mind was the other person you really wanted to be with?”

Without hesitation: “Yes.”

“I think that’s the only type of relationship I’ve ever had. Although, the other person hasn’t really existed – just – just something I’ve thought up in my own head.”

“I accidentally called her by the other person’s name. She never spoke to me again. It was terrible– terrible of me.”

“I want to touch you so badly,” you plead suddenly. Unable to hold it in anymore in the light of all he’s shared with you. Your voice cracking and begging. “I want you to touch me, so badly.”

“I know.” Yes, he does. “You want me to fuck you.” All you can do is let your eyes flutter shut, try to continue to breathe, nod your head. 

“Why was your mother cruel to you? What did she do?” You feel like crying now. 

“Many things… I had terrible night terrors as a child. Scared her half to death. I’d scream and cry and sleep walk. For years. She didn’t know what to make of me. Some sort of demon come from her very womb to possess and haunt her house. She hated me – would lock me in a closet furthest from her bedroom to keep my howling away from her.” 

The blazing heat of anger floods your cheeks, your eyes filled with tears, and he clicks his tongue, smoothes his thumb over the slope of your cheek. “None of that, sweet girl.”

“You were just a little boy – she should have– she should have comforted you. Helped you.”

“It wasn’t in her nature. You cannot fault a thing for not being what it was never made to be. She was a killer of soft things – within herself, within me too, I think. Or she tried, at least. She tried to kill everything soft she came into contact with. But she did love me. In her own way – a wrong way, but she did. That comforts me immensely.”

“That she loved you even if it was the wrong way?”

He nods, “And that I loved her – despite all her flaws.”

“Why?”

“I… I appreciate the idea of being a bad person, and still being able to find someone to love you.”

“You’re a killer.” It is not a question for you already know the answer – you can see it in his eyes, it is his inheritance. You know that either way, it won’t make a difference to you. 

“I am, indeed. But, are you?.” The soft curve of his cunning smile is so incredibly beguiling. The most tempting thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life. You shake your head, you’re not, you never have been. You think it must be very obvious at first glance, for the patronizing look he gives you as he asks anyways. 

“Sometimes I can be very bad,” he whispers slowly, drags the tip of his finger over your shoulder, down the swell of your breast, stopping just shy of your peaked nipple, circling the point. 

“What do you do?” your voice is breathless, beseeching. 

He smooths his thumb over your bottom lip, pushes between to get inside, presses down on the hard edge of your bottom teeth to inspect the wet gleam of your tongue. “I steal beautiful things for myself–” His voice is like smoke – his confession fortuitous, on the verge of disappearing. His mystique enshrouds the both of you. You hope you disappear alongside him. 

“Is that what you’re doing now? Stealing me?”

“Yes.”

“I think I like being stolen.”

-

He wakes, very late into the night, or very early in the morning, the confounding blue hue of the outside world seeping in through the heavy drapes over the tall windows. Shielding the two of you from the real world.

Your body is entirely draped over his own. You’ve invaded him in your sleep, taken over all the space and air and thought he’s ever possessed. The soft weight of your breasts presses into his chest, your head tucked in the hollow of his clavicle so that he can feel each pass of your damp breath wash over his throat and chin. He expects to feel overwhelmed, uncomfortable, perhaps even disgusted, so much skin, so much heat, your legs intertwined with his – but all he can focus on is the fullness of your tits pressed up against him, the hot wet apex of your cunt against his thigh. You’re wet in your sleep for him – he can feel your dampness seeping through the silk of your extra panties. 

One of your hands is curled over his shoulder and he brings it to his mouth, presses a kiss to the soft, small palm. His hand dwarfs yours, swallows it whole. He sucks each one of the tips of your fingers into his mouth, bites down as gently as he can. Your hips start to shift over him, needy cunt trying to unconsciously rub up against his thigh. 

He’s going to fuck you now. His cock is hard, aching, leaking, balls heavy – has been for ages, but finally, finally his mind has caught up. Thank fuck. 

He passes his palm down the smooth line of your back, pushes his t-shirt you’re wearing up your back to get to your skin. This lovely smooth back he’d spent almost an hour staring at in that gallery. He feels a terrible, unfounded curl of jealousy, once again, that anyone else in the world has ever gazed upon the magnificence that is your skin. He wants it to be only for him, he wants you to be only for him – to own you.

His hand moves down to clutch the full swell of your bottom, pushes under your panties to take a handful of your bare flesh. He bends his knee slightly to put more pressure on your core and starts to roll your hips over him. You let out a soft little moan, sleepy, so sweet. 

“It’s time to wake up, Sparrow. I’m going to fuck you now.”

“Ezra–” you murmur, coming to. Your body seems to take stock of the situation before your mind does, little cunt suddenly grinding down more firmly onto his thigh. You let out a moan that goes straight to his cock. He grips your hips and flips you over, settling between the spread of your thighs, slotting his length into your wet cleft, he starts a slow rock that has his head pressing up and into your clit. 

“Tell me how you want to be fucked.”

Your eyes are glassy, dazed and confused. He says again, “Tell me how you want to be fucked, or I will decide for you.”

And then your soft little voice, grabbing him by the balls and showing him that as sleepy or drowsy or small as you may appear, you’re still aware of the power you hold over him: “I think I’d like you to decide for me, please.”

Fuck– he deepens the pressure of his thrusts so that his tip presses into your opening over your panties. Your jaw is hinged open, panting wet breaths as you moan for him. 

He sits back on his heels then, pulls his t-shirt up over your head and then slides your panties over your hips and down your legs, grips your knees to spread your legs wide for him. 

He was right, your cunt is the same color as your nipples. Beautiful. 

It’s drooling, begging for him, and oh, how that fills him with pleasure – for such a beautiful thing to desire him, as much as he desires it. He ghosts the back of his knuckles over your slit, using his thumbs to spread your lips wide – he bends for a taste, moans deep and long from his chest. 

“Fuck, you’re so sweet. Do you want me to feed your cunt, baby?”

“Ezra, please – yes – I want it so bad.”

“I know, I could see – all night, I could see how hungry you were. I’m going to eat you now.”

Please, please. 

He settles between your thighs. Soft little licks to your swollen clit, then down to thrust his tongue into your hole. He grips the back of one thigh to press it up and back into your chest, uses his other hand to press down low on your pelvis, gives you more pressure as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. He can feel the clench of your pussy around his tongue, the shake in your thighs. Your keening moans move through him, have him grinding his aching cock into the mattress. You’re going to come in his mouth, he can feel it, taste it, your slick running from you, sweet and musky, all for him. 

Your hands clutch at his curls, pulling and tugging hard as you arch your back and start to orgasm. Ezra, Ezra, Ezra. It’s a litany, a benediction. You are a work of art come to life to sing into his ear. 

He gentles his mouth over your quivering sex, laps slowly at your pulsing entrance. He wipes his mouth over the tender slope of your inner thigh and goes back to his knees, licks his palm of your wet as he watches your gaze on him. 

He cradles your small foot in his hold. He likes the thought that he can grasp that which has carried you through your life, in his hand. For some reason, it fills him with immense pleasure, the feel of your soft foot, the thought of you walking through life, walking through the world, towards him, to find him. Always him, only him. 

There is a wound in him, dark, and putrid, overwhelming his existence always. It was only through the cathartic fulfillment of holding a beautiful thing in his hands that he felt reprieved of the terrible thing. He feels that reprieve in this moment, with the delicate weight of your small foot cradled within his palm. 

He brings it to his mouth and digs his thumb harshly into the elegant arch, forcing a moan out of you, deepening the curve of your spine, then drags his teeth along the instep, presses a soft kiss to your first toe. He can see the clench of your little hole at his ministrations, the flush of your skin from the peaks of your breasts to your cheeks. 

Your breath is hitching, breasts quivering with your gasps. He bends to lick into your mouth, thin ankle still held in his grasp, finally, finally taking the taste of your tongue onto his own and you moan, wanton and desperate, your legs wrapping around his waist to bring him closer. 

“I’m going to give you my cock now,” he presses into your skin, open mouthed kisses to your throat, your neck, your breasts. He nips a gentle bite to one swollen little nipple. 

He grasps the base of his cock, passes his hand slowly from root to tip once, twice, and then presses the flushed head to your clit, grinds there for a moment, you jerk, then moves down to your hole, feeds you just the tip. You cant your hips, try and take him deeper, but he holds back, pulls out and moves back up to circle your clit again, and then back down again to press inside. “No, no, no, Ezra, please – I need it so badly – so badly.” He watches a tiny tear, track down your temple and back into your hair, and he gives you the entire thick length of him at that, fucks inside, all the way to the end of you. 

“There? How’s that?” He presses a kiss to your breast, sucks it into his mouth. The taste of you is godly. “Is that better, needy thing?”

“So good – so good,” you sigh. Stretching your arms high above your head, arching your back to let him in deeper. 

“Fuck, yes–” he groans. He sits back on his heels, grips your hips and starts to give it to you hard. The strong swing of his hips causing the soft jiggle of your tits with every thrust. Your eyes are closed, lashes fluttering, soft mouth open and wet. So fucking beautiful. 

“Will you let me fuck your ass too?” Your head is already nodding, all rational thought currently being fucked out of you. “You will, won’t you?”

“Yes, yes – anything you want.”

“Good girl.”

He changes the angle, fucks up into that spongy devastating part of you he plans to own after this is done, and he starts to feel the tight pull of your inner muscles working to suck him deeper. “That’s it, beautiful, just like that. Taking me so wonderfully.” 

“God– I– I’m–” you press your palms to his belly and he brings one of your ankles up to his shoulder, presses a kiss to the bone. 

“God isn’t here right now – just me–” He grits his teeth, gives it to you harder. He can feel his orgasm start to pool, hot and liquid, at the base of his spine, balls drawing up tight. 

“Give me another, Sparrow, one more. Need to feel it around my cock,” spit through clenched teeth. 

“Oh, fuck – that’s so good,” you moan, and then you’re milking him, pulling his come out of him with the tight wet clutch of your muscles. 

“Fucking perfect, yes – just like that.” He lets his head roll back on his neck, hand grasping your ankle as he fills you. 

-

He watches you eat your pain au chocolat. Sitting in the warm morning sun of the observatory. Tiny bites of the flaky sweet bread, dollop of chocolate sitting at the corner of your mouth that he plans to lick off in a second. He is mesmerized. He knows, empirically, he probably looks like a fucking creep, staring you down as he is, but he can also see the subtle preen in your gaze when you glance up at him every so often. You enjoy this part of your play as much as he does, so it seems. The watching. 

“Will you let me take you somewhere today?”

“Yes, I will.”

“Brazil? I’d show you the farm.”

You swallow, the most guileless eyes he’s ever beheld, shining in the light. “Brazil? Really?”

“Of course, treasure. Or anywhere you want. Your happiness is mine to watch over now. I would do anything for you.” As he says it, he can tell, you did not lie when you said you’d like to be stolen. 

#ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect fic #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect fanfiction #prospect 2018 #prospect fic #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #ezra prospect smut

[prolix-yuy]

HELLO I'm here I've made it, don't mind me running in with my little pocket watch like the White Rabbit. Ahem! For the position, I got missionary with a pillow. For the man, I'd like to request Ezra. And for you, I have many kisses for your cheeks.<3 Ok love you byyeeeeee

Birdieeeee I will accept all of the cheek kisses and oh so many nights with Ezra. I hope it's filthy enough for my favorite Ezra writer.

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader

Position: Missionary with a Pillow

Word Count: 1584 (hELp)

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, unprotected PiV sex (don’t be a fool, wrap your tool), little bit of oral (f receiving), fingering, allusions to sex toy use, mentions of bad past sexual experiences, Ezra's filthy fucking mouth.

Notes: This has gotta be one of my favorite positions and I love it for Ezra because there's a kind of care that comes from this that gets me all swoony.

Ezra’s expression blooms from curiosity to confusion.

“You would like me to…take you to bed?” he asks, bionic and flesh arms folded over his broad chest. The henley he’s wearing stretches over his biceps, tapering to loose work trousers cinched at his waist. His tongue peeks out to wet his lower lip, confusion beginning to morph to contemplation, all while you try not to wring your hands too nervously. 

“It’s just…I um,” you try to say, the sudden mortification of how you’ve come to this conclusion weighting your tongue. “I’ve…heard about you. With others. They’re always, uh, very satisfied.” You don’t dare to extrapolate on that, or touch on how his voice carries across the hall and into your small room on the Pug. The few times you ventured to listen at his door, you burned over how expertly he took his partners apart. But beyond all that, you hated to admit why you wanted to ask him. 

“And you would like to be satisfied?” Ezra says, just a little smirk at the corner of his mouth as he tilts his head down at you. Face burning, you nod. He uncrosses his arms and braces them on his modest desk, giving you a full view of his muscled body and soft stomach. “And what would you offer me for that gift?”

Your stomach drops, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep tears from coming to the surface. Bad enough that you had to humble yourself for this request, but to be so bluntly asked what he’d get out of it only amplifies your anxieties.

“I, ah…I can…I could…shit, I’m…I think I’ve been stupid about this, I’m sorry, I’ll…” you stammer, backing towards the door. Quick as electricity Ezra pushes off and closes the gap between you, hand coming up to cup your chin. You still as he studies your face, deep lines etched between his brows and under his dark eyes.

“Have you never laid with another before?” he asks in a soft voice he only reserves for speaking to his ward. It makes your throat clench.

“I have, but it’s never been…good.” You hold his gaze, willing your boldness to return. “And it sounds like it’s always….good…with you.” Ezra’s eyes dance over your face, thumb stroking along your cheek. “I’d like to see what it’s like when it’s good, if you’ll have me.”

Ezra purrs darkly, the cool plastic of his prosthetic hand drifting to your hip.

“That is quite a gift you’re offering me. Are you sure there’s no other who would want to share in your first taste of ecstasy?” Before you answer he tugs at your waist and you follow his lead, swaying steps leading you to his bed. 

“I’d like a sure thing,” you reply, giving him a smirk of your own that he greedily enjoys. His thumb swipes over your lips before pushing inside, scraping the pad over your teeth to press your tongue. Saliva floods your mouth. 

“Take off your clothes,” he says firmly, stepping back to pull his henley over his head. The lines and planes of his chest are littered with scars and faded pink burns, noticeable redness where his prosthetic attaches. You rid yourself of your tunic and slide your pants to the floor, shedding your underwear in one fell swoop. This pleases Ezra, who groans and palms his crotch at your nude form.

“Lie down, I’m going to stretch you out on my fingers first,” he husks, stalking towards you as you sit on the edge of the bed. 

“You don’t…have to, I made sure I was ready before I came,” you said quickly, making Ezra’s head cock and eyebrows pull together.

“You…prepared yourself? Without me?” he says slowly, sinking to a crouch and parting your knees with broad, hot palms. Your core is puffy from the toy you worked yourself up with, shiny with the lube you generously used in case Ezra was larger than you were used to. His eyes flick up to your face, now anxious.

“You did not need to do this. I take great pleasure in making you cum on my fingers and in my mouth before finding myself in your tight heat.” You try to shut your knees, embarrassed that your forethought seems to be in bad taste, but he slots his hips between yours and pushes you back on the bed. The sudden intimacy of his body so close makes your heart flutter. “Did you even make yourself cum?”

You shake your head, which he follows with one of his own. “Next time you’ll let me take my time with you, pull two screaming peaks from this sweet pussy before I bed you.” The promise of next time rushes blood to your head so quickly you fear you’ll faint, but Ezra’s thick fingers sliding through your folds to press inside makes you snap into sharp focus. As he coats his fingers, pressing a spongy spot that zings pleasure down your spine, he deftly unbuttons and shucks his pants to join you nude and scorching hot.

“Since you wish to get to the main event so efficiently, I’ll do my best to make it worth your while,” he says, and one hand urges your hips to lift as he tucks a pillow under your bottom. The height tilts your hips, your cunt suddenly empty as he pulls his fingers out to wrap around his cock. “I find if the act is not as pleasurable for you, this position helps.” 

“Thank you,” you blurt out, his motions stilling as he looks down at your pliant body. There’s a flicker of something hungry on his face, the harsh squeeze he gives his cock echoing your observation. 

“You may thank me when you’re cumming on my cock,” he plays it off, circling the tip of his cock at your entrance. A deep breath, then he presses in inch by sumptuous inch. Throwing your head back, you clutch at his biceps as he leans over you, harsh little pants blowing out of his nose. He stops in his journey to shallowly fuck, tiny movements that pinch your brow and drop your mouth open. Finally, after what feels like whole minutes, he’s seated deep and full inside. 

“Oh, wow, Ezra, that feels…” you pant, opening your eyes to find him inches from your face. He’s draped down over your body, elbows planted on either side of your head, watching you so closely it makes you want to close your eyes again. The veins in his neck bulge, lips parted with his teeth clenched behind them.

“How many men have had you and not satisfied you?” he asks, strain in his voice as he drags back out.

“All of them. Never…fuck, never knew how to tell them,” you gasp, fisting Ezra’s close-cropped hair. It’s softer than you expect, sweat curling the strands at the base of his neck. 

“Tell me everything,” he rasps out, then snaps back into your cunt.

Ezra’s pace and power curls your toes and rolls your hips against the mounting pressure. The angle is perfect, cock pressing into a place that makes stars explode on the edges of your vision. He watches your face for pain, revels in your pleasure, and when he begins cursing colorfully he drops his forehead to your shoulder. The rough pants and drag of his lips and teeth drive you to wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him flush with you.

“Is it good? Is it what you needed?” he asks, arching over you and shifting his weight to find your clit between your sweaty bodies. Fanning his fingers over your abdomen, he strums his thumb over it. Your cunt clenches, legs trembling as the telltale signs of your orgasm rumble into your body.

“Yes, Ezra, thank Kevva it’s so good, please…” you beg, clamping your body around him as he speeds up, humid mouth finding your ear. 

“I would fuck you like this and any other way you desired. Every night. Would have done it every night before this, since you told me your name. To think you’ve been suffering so long and I could end your torture. Cum for me, and you’ll never want again.” 

You let go with a ragged shout, the profound ecstasy of cumming full of Ezra and surrounded by him thrashing you through the best orgasm you’ve had of late. He pins you down with his hips and hands, arms above your head as he mouths at your jaw and throat. Finally your body relaxes, sticky sweet with endorphins and dumb with pleasure. When you can peel your eyes open enough to watch him, the smugness you expected is well tamped by an affection that catches in your lungs. 

“Can you move?” he asks, your agreement preceding his gentle movements to roll you on your stomach. Pillowing your hands under your head, you sigh and prepare to thank him even more properly. You’re beaten by his large hands tilting your hips, and his hot tongue sliding into your pussy from behind. The gasps you choke out elicits a chuckle from Ezra’s throat.

“I’m going to take my reward now,” he teases, kneading his fingers into your generous ass. 

“What’s that?” you manage to get out before he slaps one cheek enough to spike arousal back in your cunt.

“Every orgasm I can pull from your body before the sunrise.”

Night cycles on the Pug last 16 hours, and Ezra uses every minute.

END

LJ’s Bangathon 2023

#ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect fic #ezra prospect x you #prospect fanfiction #prospect fanfic

[flightlessangelwings]

Ktober 2023 Day 13- Anonymous Sex

Ezra x fem!reader

Word count- 1.5k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), sex worker reader (respectfully), glory holes, oral (f receiving), squirting, multiple orgasms, creampie, protective!Ezra, petnames, praise kink, no use of y/n

Notes- This was one of the first ideas I had and one of my favorites of the month! And this one has a little hint of plot too lol! Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is myupdate blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

~

Nerves weren’t something that normally plagued Ezra. He was usually so confident and sure of himself- he had to in order to stay alive after all. But, this wasn’t a fight to the death in the green or piloting a ship through the darkness of space. The room was dark, only lit with low lights, low music in the background, and no one spoke to another. It was only men inside, the women were… behind a wall.

Ezra couldn’t hold off his needs any longer, and thus found himself here. Looking around, he saw some men already picked out who they wanted for now. He muttered something to himself as he looked to the far end of the room, and when he saw the most beautiful pussy he had ever seen in his life, his breath was taken away.

You laid comfortably on the table as your bottom half was exposed on the other side of the wall. Your legs were strapped to the wall where the patrons were and your arms were bound on either side of you on the inside. You waited in anticipation, not seeing anything on the other side, when a sultry voice spoke to you.

“Hello my flower,” the smooth voice said as a hand caressed your thighs and ass, “I have to say, this is the most delectable and tempting pussy I have ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on.”

You moaned as he squeezed your ass before he ran his hand across your folds. You arched your back as you felt how thick his fingers were, even before they entered you. He played with your clit a bit, rubbing it a few times before he ran his hand up and down your cunt once more.

“Beautiful,” the voice said.

Your legs twitched in their binds when he finally pushed two fingers inside you. He was gentle though, taking his time to work you open with his fingers. You whimpered when you felt him brush against all the sensitive spots inside your body, and you bucked your hips involuntarily into him.

“Eager are we?” he huffed in amusement as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

“Oh fuck!” you moaned.

“I would be willing to gander a guess,” he spoke again, “That this pussy tastes just as delicious as it looks.”

This was the first time you’d had someone that was this much of a talker, but it actually turned you on more than anything. And it didn’t help that the voice was incredibly attractive too. And his fingers were thick. But, when the man put his lips on your pussy, licking your clit with eagerness, you screamed even louder. He swirled his tongue around your clit before he sucked hard a few times. He knew what he was doing as he ran his tongue along your pussy, just like he did with his fingers before.

“Fuck!” You screamed as you thrashed in your bounds, feeling the tingle of your climax quickly approach.

You felt him hum into you as he pumped his fingers in and out of you even faster, knowing exactly what your body was telling him. As he licked and sucked at your pussy, you came hard, gushing into his mouth with a loud cry that echoed in the space.

“I was correct,” he murmured against your skin, “Nectar from Keeva.”

Taking a breath, you thought he was going to fuck you now, but again this man surprised you. Instead, he thrust his fingers in and out of you again and attached his mouth to your cunt once more. You screamed as your legs trembled on their own, already more sensitive from having cum once.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned as your second orgasm quickly hit. And it was just as strong as the first. Again, you gushed into his mouth, and the man eagerly lapped up every last drop of your release.

“That’s it,” he purred as he kissed your inner thighs, “A goddess among men.”

As much as Ezra would have been content to stay on his knees and eat your pussy all night, his own cock screamed at him, begging for its own release. He placed one final feather-light kiss on your pussy before he stood up with a groan, pulling his fingers out of you in the process.

You whined at the loss.

“I am sorry, my goddess,” the man caressed your thighs, “Though I thoroughly enjoyed feasting on you, I do have my own needs that require attention.”

All you could do was let out a moan as you anticipated his next move. By how thick his fingers were, you were expecting an even thicker cock… and you weren’t wrong.

You cried out and arched your back as he slowly pushed himself inside you, murmuring praises as he did so. He seemed to know how big he was, as he took his time pushing his length into you.

“Fuck, my goddess,” he groaned, “You feel divine.”

Slowly at first, he pulled back and thrust forward. You gasped at the action before it dissolved into a moan. Again, he thrust once, and again you moaned.

“I feel so lucky to get to fuck this pussy,” he murmured as he started to rock into you faster, “Feels so good. So beautiful.”

You screamed as he thrust faster and harder, and your eyes rolled back into your head when he slammed into that sweet spot deep inside you. Your toes curled as you cried out even louder the more he hit that spot over and over again.

“Are you going to cum on my cock, my goddess?” he purred as he grabbed your thighs and spread them as far as he could.

“Fuck! Yes!” you screamed as your whole body trembled.

“Are you going to allow me to cum inside you, my goddess? Let me worship you the way you were meant to be worshiped?”

“Please,” you begged.

“Good girl,” he cooed as he pounded into you harder and faster, determined to send you over the edge at the same time as him.

He got his wish, and it only took a few more thrusts for you to cum hard on his cock, gushing once more. At the same time, Ezra’s own orgasm hit and he spilled himself into you, filling you up even more. He shuddered as he babbled incoherent praises and curses as he rode out both your climaxes together.

When he was spent, Ezra grunted and leaned against the wall, his cock still buried deep inside you. Panting while he caught his breath, he heard you breathing heavily on the other side of the wall. “That was incredible, my goddess,” he ran his hand along the wall and imagined it was your face he caressed.

Ezra heard you moan on the other side of the wall.

He smirked, “Perhaps,” he said coyly, “This famished man can feast upon his goddess some more?”

This was the best night you had in a long time. Perhaps ever. And you didn’t even see the man’s face.

*

“Have a good night,” you bid farewell to the others as you grabbed your stuff and headed out after the end of the night. A smile lit up your face as you left more satisfied than ever before, and you had a faceless man with the smoothest voice to thank for it. Silently, you wished him well.

But your good mood was quickly soured when another man blocked your path, “You didn’t call me back, baby.”

You frowned, “I said we’re over,” you pushed him out of the way, “I’m going home, Leave me alone.”

“Oh don’t be like that, baby,” the man pleaded as he grabbed your wrist, “I can take care of you. Treat you like a queen.”

Doubt it, you thought. Especially after you were just treated like a… goddess. “Let me go!” you tried to break yourself free, but it was no use.

But suddenly, another man appeared behind him, pressing a weapon to his side, “I believe the lady told you to leave,” a familiar smooth voice spoke, “Now I will let things get messy if they need to, but I would rather not make a scene in front of the lady. Your choice.”

The man, who was so confident before, shrieked and scurried away in a panic, suddenly scared. As he ran off, you got a better look at your rescuer, and your mouth dropped open at how handsome he was. He had a lock of blond hair in his messy brown waves, soft dark eyes, a sharp strong nose, and stunning features.

“Are you alright, miss?” he asked.

You gasped as you recognized the voice.

“What is it? Are you ok?” He seemed genuinely concerned.

“Fuck,” was all you could say.

He froze, and you knew your voice was all. He placed a hand on your arm and his face softened, “Nice to meet you, I’m Ezra.”

It was like a fairytale, and your heart pounded in your chest as you gave him your name.

“Can I take you home? Or somewhere else?” he asked, “I don’t want anyone else harming my goddess. Not when I can protect her.”

Your skin warmed. You had good instincts, and something in you said that you could trust him. You nodded as you slipped a hand in his and something new started to blossom.

#fawktober2023 #kinktober #ezra prospect #ezra (prospect) #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra (prospect) x reader #ezra (prospect) x you #ezra prospect imagine #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect fic #ezra prospect fanfic #ezra (prospect) imagine #ezra (prospect) fanfiction #ezra (prospect) fic #ezra (prospect) fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #prospect 2018 #prospect movie #prospect film #prospect fanfiction #prospect fic

[alwaysmicado]

incomplete

2.2k | Ezra x gn!reader | one-shot

established relationship, negative body image, anxiety attack, emotional support Summary: Ezra has not been the same since losing his arm in the Green. When he suffers an anxiety attack, he reveals his biggest fear — not being enough for you. A/N: I love Ezra with all my heart and I can only imagine how difficult it must be to navigate life after losing an arm, especially in “ordinary” situations such as hugging the person he loves. I just had to give him reassurance and comfort. 🤍 masterlist | AO3

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”

- Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

The dim glow of the moonlight casts a soft illumination across the room, highlighting shadows that dance on the walls. The silence of the night is broken by a subtle sound — a muffled sob that echoes through the otherwise quiet hut. You lie on your cot, eyes wide open, unable to ignore the pattern that has emerged over the past few nights any longer.

Ezra, the enigmatic prospector you’ve come to recognize and admire for his strength and composure over the past year of your partnership, is struggling.

You can hear him pacing in the living area, a restless energy evident in each step. Occasionally, a stifled whimper escapes him, the weight of his emotions too much to contain. It’s a painful symphony of anxiety that unfolds behind the closed door.

As much as you want to respect his privacy, the concern gnaws at you, urging you to offer support. You slip out of your covers and put on your sweater, guided by the muted sounds emanating from your partner. The door creaks softly as you open it, revealing Ezra standing near the window, his silhouette framed by the moonlight. 

His gaze is fixed on the distant moon, his shoulders are hunched, and his hand grips the edge of the windowsill as if anchoring himself in a storm. His breathing is rapid, shallow, and you can see the distress in his eyes.

It’s clear that he’s in the midst of an anxiety attack.

You immediately move towards him, concern etching your features. “Ezra, hey, what’s going on?” Your voice is soft, trying to cut through the chaotic thoughts that might be racing through his mind.

He looks up at you, his eyes wide with panic, and it takes a moment for him to register your presence. “I–I don’t know,” he stammers, his words coming out in fragments. “It just–it hit me.”

You move to stand beside him, giving him some space while remaining close enough to offer comfort. “It’s okay, Ezra. I’m here. Take deep breaths with me, alright?” You model the slow, deliberate inhales and exhales, hoping he’ll follow suit.

He tries to mimic your breathing, but it’s clear that the anxiety has a tight grip on him. His chest rises and falls rapidly, and his attempts to regulate his breath are met with resistance.

“Focus on me, Ezra,” you encourage, gently placing a hand on his back to rub soothing circles into his strained muscles. “You’re safe here. Let’s try it together. In…and out.”

It takes a while, but gradually, his breathing starts to sync with yours. The rhythm becomes steadier, and you can feel some of the tension beginning to dissipate. Still, his eyes are wide with residual fear.

“Do you think you can tell me what triggered this?” you ask, your voice soft and understanding, sympathy evident in your eyes.

Ezra shakes his head and lifts his gaze to meet yours, struggling to find the words to properly convey the inner turmoil he is facing. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice breaking. 

“Everything just felt...overwhelming. I couldn’t catch my breath for the life of me, and my mind started racing like a runaway train — thoughts careening in every direction. Images, memories, and possibilities colliding, creating a chaotic symphony of ideas that I struggled to make sense of.” 

You nod, recognizing the unpredictable nature of anxiety. “It’s alright, Ezra,” you coo. “Sometimes, our minds can play tricks on us and cause us to feel everything at once.” You continue tenderly rubbing his back. “What’s important is that you’re not alone, and I need you to know that you’re not alone.” 

Ezra takes another deep breath and nods weakly, the color slowly returning to his face. “I am truly sorry for disturbing your peace, sugar plum,” he mumbles, apologizing for something beyond his control.

“You don’t need to apologize,” you reassure him, a comforting smile gracing your lips. 

When you feel his muscles tense again, you can’t help but furrow your brow with worry. “Look at me, Ezra,” you prompt quietly, reaching out to gently place a hand on his arm. “Will you tell me what’s going on? I might be able to help, you know.”

You search his dark eyes and softly rub the skin beneath his shirt’s short sleeve. “But I need you to let me in.”

He looks out of the window again, avoiding your gaze, and you can see the remnants of dread in his eyes, vulnerability evident in the set of his shoulders.

“There’s nothing going on that needs to trouble that beautiful mind of yours, sugar plum. Just a rough night.” He shakes his head and glances at you, sensing that his attempt at deception, in this case for your own good, is not having its desired effect.

You know him too well, know the man behind the rugged, sly persona he’s been cultivating as a survival tactic. You know what’s hidden beneath, shielded from prying eyes, only revealed to the people who are worthy of his love and devotion — first Cee, now you. 

“Ezra, I’ve heard you. I’ve heard you pacing, and I’ve heard the tears. It’s not ‘nothing’.” You cup his cheek with your hand, your eyes boring into his. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

He takes a deep breath, the facade slipping away as he meets your eyes, his shoulders trembling slightly. He hesitates for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “I just–I cannot seem to shake this feeling, this overwhelming feeling of grief and hopelessness that is threatening to pull me down into the depths of darkness every time I am alone with my thoughts.”

You see the tears welling up in his eyes and feel your heart break in your chest. 

Ezra looks away, trying to contain the flood of emotions threatening to spill over. “I thought I could handle the memories floating around in my mind, memories of death, destruction, greed, loss. I honestly, truly thought I could move on with my life, be a better man for you and Cee, and lead an honorable life here in our community. On this stunning piece of land I am so fortunate to find myself on.”

He clenches his fist, and closes his eyes.

“But it is always there, always, always there. No matter what I do. No matter how hard I try. It is always lurking in the shadows of my existence, following me, holding me back.” He sighs deeply and opens his eyes to look at you, his brow furrowed. “I am haunted by the absence of my arm. I miss him deeply, in everything I do. And at night, when darkness takes over, when everything is quiet, it is all I can think about.

It’s a pain that goes beyond the physical, a yearning for a wholeness that seems elusive.”

He turns to face you fully, gently tracing your cheek with the back of his fingers. Your heart aches for him, understanding the weight of his words.

“I am broken beyond repair, my darling, and I cannot help but feel that you would be better off if I was go–”

Without a word, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a warm and reassuring embrace. Ezra hesitates for a moment, surprised by the sudden contact, but then he leans into the hug, allowing himself to be enveloped by the comfort you offer.

The room around you is silent, and all that can be heard is the subtle sound of his breath.

You can feel the tension in Ezra’s body as he wraps his arm around you, the heavy burden, the weight of his grief he’s been carrying alone all this time. Slowly, you start to sway gently, a rhythm that seems to soothe the troubled thoughts that linger in his mind. The embrace is tight but gentle, a silent reassurance that he’s not alone — and that you’re not going anywhere.

As you hold him, you sense a subtle shift in his demeanor. A quiver runs through his body, and you realize he’s starting to cry. It’s a quiet, almost imperceptible release of emotions that he's been holding back for too long. You tighten your grip, offering him a safe space to let go.

“You’re not alone in this, Ezra,” you whisper. “Losing a part of yourself is a profound loss and it’s okay to hurt. It’s okay to grieve. And you don’t have to be silent about it. I’m here for you.”

After a while, the tears subside, and you loosen your embrace just enough to look into his eyes with sincerity, keeping your hands on his shoulders. 

Ezra’s eyes glisten with hurt and uncertainty, something you’ve never seen in them before. You brush away a stray tear from his cheek, your touch gentle and calming. 

“I cannot adequately describe how much I despise myself for not being able to do this properly — the way you deserve, my precious sugar plum,” he murmurs, pain straining his voice. 

You tilt your head in confusion, unable to decipher what exactly he’s talking about. “What do you mean?” you ask softly, a reassuring smile prompting him to answer you.

“This,” he whispers as he pulls you closer, resting his forehead against yours with closed eyes. “I cannot help but think about how my missing arm, my incompleteness, prevents me from embracing you properly. You deserve the world, my darling, and I can’t even present you with a hug. You deserve a man who can hold you close and show you the love and affection you deserve, and I am truly sorry for having deprived you for so long.”

You pull away enough to look into his eyes again, anger now simmering beneath your skin. 

How dare this capable, intelligent, and loyal man entertain the notion that he deprived you of anything. Throughout your time together, all he’s done is take care of you, offering you a life teeming with adventure and love. It’s unfathomable that, even for a fleeting moment, he would think you’d be better off without him.

“I love you, Ezra, and I understand what you’re trying to say, I really do,” you say as calmly as possible, taking deep breaths. “But I need you to listen to me very carefully now because I need you to hear and understand every word. Can you do that?”

“Of course, my darling,” he answers with a nod. “You have my undivided attention.”

Your features soften as you witness the sad admiration in his gaze. “I can’t imagine how unimaginably traumatizing it must have been to lose your arm, having to adapt and relearn everything you knew how to do before. But you did it, you persevered. Because you are strong.”

You lift your hand to cup his cheek, causing him to lean into your touch immediately. “I have seen the incredible progress you’ve made since you and Cee arrived here and, Ezra, I’m so fucking proud of you.”

He looks at you, a mix of gratitude and disbelief in his eyes, a single tear making its way down his cheek.

“But I can’t even hug you. I can’t hold you like I want to, like I should be able to.”

You smile, reaching up to wipe away the tear. “Ezra, a hug is not just about arms. It’s about connection, about being close to someone. And in case you haven’t noticed, our hug right now is pretty perfect to me.”

He chuckles through a tear-streaked smile, a flicker of relief in his eyes. “You really think so, sugar plum?”

“I know so,” you affirm with a genuine smile on your lips. “Your worth isn’t determined by the number of limbs you have. It’s about the person you are, the heart you have, and the way you make people feel — what matters is this.”

You gently take his hand and guide it to your chest, so he can feel the steady rhythm of your heart beneath the fabric of your sweater. “You feel this?” He nods slowly as you put your hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat.

“You aren’t broken, my love. You’re human.”

Ezra takes a moment to absorb your words, and you can see a shift in his demeanor. The weight on his shoulders seems to lighten and you can see the spark in his beautiful, dark eyes return.

“You’re perfect just the way you are, Ezra,” you coo. “And if you ever feel the darkness pull at you again, try to remember that you have someone here who sees you, all of you, and thinks the absolute world of you.” 

He nods, his signature smile spreading across his face. “Thank you, my darling,” he says, his voice filled with gratitude.

You pull him back into your arms, holding him close once more.

In that moment, you both find solace in the simple act of being together. The room is filled with the quiet understanding that perfection isn’t about the absence of flaws but about embracing every part of oneself — scars and all.

“After all my time floating through this forsaken universe, searching for meaning,” he murmurs into your ear, a soft smile gracing his lips, “it turns out that love is the answer. Quite poetic, don’t you think?” —

#ezra prospect x gn!reader #ezra (prospect) #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra x gn!reader #ezra x you #body image #prospect 2018 #self worth #emotional support #anxiety #ezra x reader #ezra prospect #pedro pascal characters #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra pedro pascal #fanfiction #body positivity #ezra fluff #ezra fanfiction #hurt/comfort

[absurdthirst]

An American in Paris {Ezra x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14k

Warnings: Mentions of war/missing limbs, flirting, innuendo, oral sex(female receiving), body image issues, vaginal sex, loss of virginity, miscommunication, secrets revealed, angst, making up, happing endings

Comments: When you escape your family's expectations by fleeing to Paris, you meet an ex-pat named Ezra who stayed after the war. Touring the city with him, you fall in love until your past catches up to you.

A/N: Post WWII AU - set 10 years after war, mentions of finishing school but no mentions of skin tone or hair texture

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Ezra (Prospect) 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

Paris. The sounds of hammers and grunts of men working mingle with the hustle and bustle of the city. The sight and air of restoration and recovery nearly compete after the devastation of the war. There wasn’t as much as in some of the countryside, where the worst of the fight took place. Still, the scars of brutality of men can be seen on the roads and buildings, much like they can be seen when glancing at Ezra.

Finding comfort in the sounds and lights, he walks down the streets where he had once patrolled with a gun. No longer wearing the uniform of his former country, his now ex-pat status in this country is accepted since he can fluently speak the language. Almost feeling more at home here than he ever had in Tensa Parish, feeling a little morbid about returning to the city that had claimed his youth to the horrors of war, and his arm in battle. Over his shoulder, a bag contains the makings for a lovely, simple meal, and a bottle of wine to take the edge off the phantom pains that plague him from time to time, but it’s been nearly ten years since the war and he has gotten accustomed to dealing with the issues that come from losing his right arm. 

You glance up at the building, suitcase in hand, and sigh as you try to speak to the building owner in French. Your finishing school classes allowed you to speak well enough to get by but the owner doesn’t seem to understand you are his new tenant. A man approaches, a bag slung over his shoulder and the owner’s eyes widen. 

“Ah Ezra!” The man proceeds to rattle off French words faster than you can understand them and the man hums, nodding his head. 

He turns to you and tilts his head, “American?” He asks and you nod, “yes. From Boston. I just got here. I’m renting 302 and he doesn’t understand that I am the new tenant.” You explain and Ezra nods, turning towards the owner to explain who you are and Louis finally goes “ahhh.” 

He opens the door behind him and reaches for your other suitcases, helping you into the building. “Thank you so much. I’m not sure how I can repay you.” You tell Ezra but he shakes his head. 

“My pleasure, chérie.” He says and wishes he could assist with your luggage but he doesn’t have a free hand. You’re guided to 302 and Ezra follows, standing outside 301. “It appears we are to be neighbors.” Ezra says softly as Louis unlocks your front door and sets your suitcases down. 

“Then I must cook you dinner to repay you for your assistance.” You tell him and your eyes drift down to the hanging arm of his jacket, noticing his missing arm. You quickly avert your eyes, focusing on his handsome face.

Ezra notices your glance at his arm, or lack of one, and slides into a self deprecating grin of amusement. “Couldn’t pay my rent, one month.” He jokes. “Louis is a man who takes his pound of flesh.”

You giggle at his joke as Louis shifts to grab your key off of his heavy ring of keys. “I’ll be sure to pay my rent on time to avoid suffering the same fate.” You joke softly, “but I insist on dinner one night.” You tell him, wanting to make sure you know your neighbor in this new life you’re creating for yourself. 

Ezra nods, “very well, chérie. I shall inquire once you’ve settled into your new abode.” Ezra says and you offer him a smile. 

“Merci.” You tell Louis who nods and you step into your new apartment. 

“Another American.” Louis says to Ezra after you’ve shut the front door to 302. “And a pretty one at that. If you don’t go to dinner, then I will.” Louis winks and makes his way downstairs. Ezra chuckles, shaking his head at the sneaky old man. 

****

It’s been a few days since you arrived in Paris and you’ve spent that time organizing your new apartment. It needed some cleaning and you have ventured out to buy groceries. You are struggling with the bags up the stairs when you see Ezra again. “Let me assist you, ma’am. Well, as best as I can.” Ezra reaches for one bag and you thank him. 

“Anything helps. I am not used to the stairs just yet.” You admit and start to ascend the steps.

“One of the many benefits of living in Paris is the exercise you will become accustomed to.” Ezra follows you up the stairs respectfully keeping his eyes off your ass. Though he does get a few glimpses of your silky slip. You are a gorgeous little bird. No doubt about that, but he is sure you are not looking for a man like him to be eyeing you.

“I am sure I’ll be whizzing up and down these stairs soon enough. The cobblestones and my heels…now that’s a different story.” You chuckle, sighing in relief when you make it to the third floor. Ezra follows you to your door and you set the bags down as you reach into your purse for your key. “I appreciate your assistance, Ezra. For the second time. I really do owe you a dinner now. I have enough food. If you do not have plans, would you like to join me for dinner this evening?” You ask him, biting your lip as he sets the bag down next to your feet.

Your eyes are bright and almost pleading with him to accept your invitation. He wonders if you are lonely since he has not heard anyone knock on your door since you have moved in. “Only if you will permit me to bring the libations for this evening?” He asks, offering a small smile. “I know the most delightful champagne that will make you feel as if you are as light as a bird.”

Your answering grin makes his heart thump, unbeknownst to you, and you nod your agreement. “Very well. Champagne and I shall cook. See you at seven?” You ask and he nods. “Excellent.” You turn to unlock your door, “see you at seven, Mr. Ezra.” You smile and bend down to pick up your bags. “Don’t be late.” You warn playfully, stepping into your apartment. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He promises and you shut the door behind you. 

****

“Shit.” You hiss to yourself as the water boils over. It’s been hard to cook on a stove you aren’t familiar with and you struggle to make sure everything is ready as there’s a knock on the door. You sigh, rushing over to the mirror to check your appearance and you struggle to remove the apron around your waist before you compose yourself and open the door to Ezra. 

“Good evening, chérie.” He smiles and you can’t help but smile back, “come in.” You insist and step aside for him.

Stepping into the apartment, Ezra smiles at the way your own balcony doors are thrown open like his. “Dinner smells delectable, little bird.” He turns around with the champagne bottle tucked j def his arm. “Shall you show me the ice box to stow this in, or shall we open it now?” He doesn’t know how much longer you have for dinner to be ready or if you would rather wait to have the bubbly with the meal.

“Let’s open it now.” You tell him, “dinner is nearly ready. I just need to mash the potatoes.” You walk over to the cabinet to take out two of the four glasses that came with this apartment. “Not exactly ideal for champagne but it will have to do.” You tell him, setting the short glasses down on the table. 

“It all tastes the same.” He winks and manages to take the foil off of the bottle. You want to ask if he needs help but he tucks the bottle under his arm and twists his hand, popping the cork and you are surprised at how agile he is. He pours two glasses and you take the glass he holds out towards you. 

“A toast to two Americans in Paris?” You ask and he nods, “two Americans in Paris. Let us find what we are looking for in these cobbled streets.” He toasts and you clink your glass against his. 

Taking a sip, you hum in surprise at how delicious the champagne is. “So what brought you to Paris?” You ask him, curiosity getting the better of you.

He had known you would ask. It’s natural to be curious, just like he is curious of you. Setting his drink down, his hand unconsciously reaches for his missing limb, grasping the small nub that is left where his shirt is neatly pinned up. “I was here in the war.” He explains, his voice low and reflective. “I am sure you are much too innocent to remember the horrors.” You have to be in your early - maybe mid - twenties, just experiencing your first burst of freedom. “I came back two years later, feeling more at home here than where I am from.”

You aren’t surprised. Back home, a lot of men came back with injuries. Physical or mental. They were never the same so you can understand why he wanted to leave. “You’re from…Louisiana?” You ask, figuring out his accent, and he nods, “born and raised.” You smile, “that explains the accent. I like it. It’s smooth. Like whiskey.” You compliment him and take another sip of the champagne.

“What’s your story, little bird?” Ezra wants to change the subject, his heart aching at all the other information that you would have no interest in. “I must confess that I was surprised to find you alone with no chaperone, though times are changing.”

“Times are changing.” You echo, setting your glass down so you can drain the potatoes to mash them. “I - I wanted to escape.” You answer honestly, “to explore and find myself. All my life…I’ve been what my parents wanted me to be. I attended finishing school in London and after returning to Boston, I found that I didn’t belong there anymore. I decided to come to Paris, explore myself and this beautiful city. My parents weren’t happy but I had to grow up.” You confess and turn around to finish cooking the dinner.

He senses that there is more to your story but he doesn’t push. Knowing that he is just a stranger and not a confidant. “You have chosen a wondrous time to come, little bird. Paris at night is magnificent. Have you gone out to explore the city so far?”

“Not yet.” You admit, “I find myself falling asleep while reading guide books and I suppose I need to summon the courage to get out there and explore. The museums, especially. The Eiffel Tower. The Arc de Triomphe. There’s so much to see.” You confess and mash the potatoes.

“If you would permit me,” Ezra hums, biting his lip before he continues. “I could extend my own presence as a makeshift guide? I have spent extensive hours roaming this fair city and speak fluently.” He smiles. “I can give you the experience you wish, if you can bear my poor company for extended periods of time.”

You plate up the meal and smile to yourself as you turn back towards him to set his dinner down in front of him. “I will certainly take you up on that offer, Ezra. I wish to see the real Paris. The tourist things too, but I want to know the true Paris. It’s people. It’s food. The secret places.” You confess, setting your own plate down and you sit down.

“It’s food is delicious and the people are not as unfriendly as some would claim.” He wishes he could help you, offer a hand, but he offers a toast. “To Paris being exactly what you want.”

You clink your glass with his, a smile on your face. “To Paris being exactly what we want.” You correct and he hums, taking a sip of champagne. “Please, dig in. I’m not the best cook, but chicken and mashed potatoes, I can do.” You tell him, picking up your knife and fork.

“Cherie, it is a meal that I did not have to labor over myself.” Ezra reminds you. “It will taste like the most delicate foie gras I have ever sampled.” The use of a fork and knife at the same time is impossible, but instead of asking you to cut up his food, Ezra picks up his knife to attempt to cut the chicken without pushing food around too badly.

You bite your lip as you watch him try to cut into the chicken. You decide to help and you haven’t cut into your dinner yet so you move fast to cut up the chicken. Once it’s all cut, you reach out to swap your plate with his. Acting fast once again to cut up your own chicken and you set your knife down, just using your fork like he is.

“Thank you.” His voice is low, slightly embarrassed by the fact that you needed to cut up his meal as if he was still a child. He had come a long way in the last ten years but he still couldn’t do some things without a second hand. “I apologize for any grief that it might have caused.”

You tut, “don’t be silly. I can’t understand how difficult it is for you. It’s nothing for me to help.” You shake your head and start to eat using your fork. You want him to be comfortable in your home and he’s the only person you know in Paris.

Ezra’s smile turns onto you with simple pleasure. “You should not have feared about your cooking, little bird.” He assures you after the first bite. “It is divine to sample your culinary skills.”

You smile, pleased that he likes your cooking. “Thank you. Looks like I got something for that God awful finishing school I went to.” You chuckle softly and watch him enjoy the food. “I will have to cook for us more often. A balance between savoring the rich food of Paris and some home comforts. I make a mean fried chicken.” You tell him with a wink, enjoying his company despite harshly knowing much about him. “So how do you spend your days? Are you working?”

“I do not work.” Ezra admits, shrugging slightly. “My check from the military covers my expenses, although I do write poetry, badly might I add.” His words are wonderful, but he had yet to master writing left handed. “Sometimes I will deliver papers if I am bored or wish to have more money in my pockets. Or translate.”

You lean a little closer, “I should like to hear some of your poetry sometime.” You tell him, “and if you ever need someone to write for you, I am more than happy to volunteer my hand.” You say and fluster slightly when you realize how that sounds.

His thoughts are more than obscene as he imagines your soft looking hand wrapped around his cock. It would look much better than his own. “I will have to take you up on that.” He murmurs, enjoying the way your eyes flutter in embarrassment and you look down at your plate.

You clear your throat and scoop up some mashed potatoes. “Have you found love in the city of light?” You ask with slight curiosity. “Perhaps a beautiful French woman to occupy your days when you aren’t writing poetry.” You muse, your gaze flicking up to him.

“I fear that love has eluded me.” Ezra murmurs quietly. “Perhaps I am not looking in quite the correct spaces.” Your lip pulls between your teeth and he has the urge to bite it, then kiss away the sting. “Although perhaps a muse is right in front of me.”

You playfully glance behind you until you turn back to meet his dark gaze. “Me? I am no muse.” You assure him, “but perhaps we will discover one during our sightseeing. I- I am afraid I am of no use. I’ve never been in love.” You admit with a sigh, “my experiences would not assist you in your poetry.”

“Then perhaps I shall be granted the glorious privilege of witnessing your fall into the depths of amorous pleasure.” He smiles. “You are a beautiful woman and no doubt many men will court you. Wine and poetry, dancing and romance.”

You fluster again at him calling you a beautiful woman, ducking your head, “perhaps. We shall see.” You hum, picking up your glass of champagne and you admire him. He’s a handsome man, weathered like so many after enduring the war, but his eyes are sparkling and you know it would be easy to fall into their depths. He mentions other men when your current wish is for him to court you. “Shall we begin our exploration of Paris tomorrow? Unless you have other plans.” You add, not wanting to push yourself onto him if he is busy.

“I am at your disposal.” He nods his head and smirks when you fluster again. Wondering what could be going through your pretty head. “Whatever you wish to do.”

You hum, “I would like to go to the Louvre. There’s so many wonderful pieces. Pieces I’ve read about and I want to wander the halls and admire the beautiful art.” You admit, picking up your fork to finish your meal.

“It is a date.” Ezra hums. “I know of a charming cafe where we can have lunch if you would like to join me. Let me provide a meal for you, although my own cooking skills are non-existence.”

You nod, watching him finish his meal. “It’s a date.” You repeat, heart beating faster at the thought and you imagine walking along the Seine by his side, enjoying the city and his southern drawl. “Now…I got an apple tart for dessert. You fancy a slice?” You ask, standing up to take the empty plates.

“I must confess I am in possession of an enormous sweet tooth.” Ezra groans at the idea of a sweet dessert, and he loves apple tarts. “I would be honored to sample your tart, chérie.”

You giggle as you carry the plates over to the sink, working fast to cut a decent slice of tart for you and Ezra. “I picked it up from the patisserie down the street, I hope it’s good.” You tell him as you sit down and pick up the smaller fork you had set out. “I love sweet things too.” You confess with a smile.

“Then we will get along perfectly.” Ezra winks and groans at the sight of the tart. “It is delicious looking, little bird.” He promises.

You and Ezra enjoy dessert with comfortable silence and when it’s finished, you gather the plates to wash. “I best be leaving you to your peace. I’m certain you want to be with your thoughts after so long of hearing me wittering on.” Ezra says as he stands up from the table. 

“Absolutely not. You’re a great dinner guest. If you wish to leave, I shall see you tomorrow for our lunch and Louvre date.” You giggle and Ezra nods. 

“I’ll call for you around eleven.” He says and leans in to kiss your cheek. “Thank you for the delectable dinner, chérie. I will return the favor with a less deadly dinner cooked by a professional lest I am unable to cook.” He jokes and you grin, shaking your head as you escort him to your front door. 

“Sounds like a plan. Goodnight Ezra.” You say as you lean against the door frame. 

“Goodnight little bird.” He returns and steps into the hall. You watch him for a moment as he retreats to his apartment next door and then you close the door, leaning against it to close your eyes. You’ve never met anyone like Ezra. Certainly never met anyone who makes you feel like he does. After you wash up, you’ll pick out your outfit. You want to look good for Ezra, and hopefully he likes what he sees.

The next morning, Ezra takes great pains with his appearance. Waking up early, he decided to treat himself to a shave and a haircut from the barber down the street, knowing that he can often miss small patches of hair and he wants to be worthy of your presence. He dresses smart, his button down shirts slightly larger than fitted so he can slide them on without fiddling with the buttons. Once eleven comes, he steps out of his door with a small clutch of flowers he had impulsively purchased on the way back from the barber.

You inhale deeply, adjusting your dress for the umpteenth time, and you take a beat before you walk over to open the door to Ezra. "Good morning." You smile when you see him, his hair slicked back and freshly shaven. He looks handsome and your heart thumps in your chest. "You look handsome." You tell him, wanting him to know you appreciate the effort he's clearly put in. You hope he likes your efforts.

“Little bird,” Ezra slowly peruses your appearance, enjoying the way your hips sway slightly as you twirl around. “For the first time in my loquacious existence, you have rendered me speechless with your exquisite beauty.” He proses breathlessly. “While I must apologize for my own humble appearance, you would outshine the brightest star in the night’s sky.” He extends the flowers to you. “A humble offering to a veritable goddess.”

His words combined with the look in his eyes has you breathless, your jaw dropping slightly and your stomach twists. "I - you are a wonderful poet, Ezra. Truly, you've - no one has ever been so poetic about my appearance. Especially when I will be walking alongside such a handsome gentleman. Thank you, these are beautiful." You take the flowers, your fingers brushing his, and you bring them to your nose to sniff them. "I will put them in water and get my things." You smile, turning to walk towards the kitchen.

He’s proud that he could put such a look on your face, the quiet pride of a compliment. He believes it to be true however, you are a goddess and he is fortunate that you speak to him. Many beautiful women have uncomfortably avoided him, as if his loss of limb at the scar on his cheek were from accosting a woman. When you return he offers his one remaining limb. “Shall we?”

"We shall." You smile, taking his arm after you lock your front door, and you let him guide you down the stairs and out onto the bustling streets of Paris. Springtime in Paris is beautiful. The breeze, the flowers, it's incredible. "No wonder you wanted to return here. Paris is...unlike any place I have ever known. It has an aura around it that seems magical." You sigh.

Ezra chuckles, "clearly you have not been to Boulevard de Clichy." 

Your eyes widen, aware that the Moulin Rouge is there. "I wouldn't mind going there. To explore all of Paris." You say timidly, hoping he doesn't think you are scandalous.

Grinning, Ezra wishing he could pat your hand. “Then we shall have to make plans to go one evening.” He decides. “Dinner and dancing. Allow me to show you the more….jubilant side of the city.” He hums, imagining the wonder in your eyes. Would you be scandalized or enchanted with the display of eroticism? He feels the passionate side of you would be enchanted. “Perfectly respectable with an escort.”

You smile, pleased he isn't scandalized by your request. "That's a date." You squeeze his arm and he winks at you, making your heart stutter. You've never felt like this before, so smitten by a man so quickly. You know you must remain friends to preserve the only friendship you have managed to discover thus far in the city. 

"Here we are." Ezra declares when you arrive outside of the cafe, reluctantly letting go of your arm to greet the cafe owner. 

"Bonjour, Monsieur Ezra." The owner greets him and Ezra nods, unable to shake his hand. You are escorted to a small table in the window and Ezra uses his hand to pull your chair out. 

"Thank you." You smile as you sit down and take the menu.

“As you might have deduced, little bird, I am a frequent patron of this establishment.” He hums, nodding towards the menu. “Everything is splendid, although the quiche and Croque Monsieur are particular favorites of mine.”

You hum, “the quiche sounds good.” You look over the menu for a few more moments before you set it down. The waiter comes over and Ezra orders a glass of white wine, asking if you want the same and you agree. The waiter takes your order and you listen to Ezra order in perfect French and you fluster as you try your best to order. When the waiter leaves, you glance out of the window, admiring the Parisians leaving.

“Do not fret, little bird.” He assures you, watching as you turn your head to look at him again. “Your French is solid and you will only improve as you are immersed in the language.” He promises. “Often I do translations and I will assist you however I can.”

You reach for his hand, squeezing it. “I appreciate your help.” You say and release his hand when the wine glasses are set down in front of you. “To new friendships.” You toast, clinking your glass against his.

Ezra nods, smiling as he takes a sip of the wine he always enjoys. Somehow improved by your company. “So the Louvre today. I feel like we should be able to spend a lovely afternoon there.”

You nod, sipping the wine before you set it down. “Yes. I am excited. I studied art at finishing school so it will be wonderful to see so many famous pieces in real life. I am sure you’ve been before and are going to be utterly bored.” You joke, keeping your eyes on his.

“I assure you, every visit to the Louvre is special.” Ezra smiles. “But this visit might be the most special. The company is much better than my own.”

You fluster once more at his words, aware that you barely know the man but you can’t deny that he makes your stomach twist with desire. The food arrives and you start to eat, groaning at how delicious it is. “Oh my God. This place is a gem.” You tell Ezra after you swallow your first bite.

Your groan is sensual, almost erotic and Ezra’s cock twitches at the sound. He grins at you. “Do you see why I enjoy it so much, little bird?” He muses, picking up his own sandwich and taking a bite before setting it down to wipe his mouth. Just because he had one less arm does not mean he is lacking manners.

“Absolutely. I love it.” You promise, “it’s going to be a favorite of mine in days to come.” You assure him, taking another sip of your wine. After you’ve both polished off your delicious lunch, Ezra pays despite your protest. 

“You made dinner last night. It’s the least I could do.” He tells you and you nod, “fine but I’ll be making dinner again.” You promise and he nods, “and I’ll bring more champagne.” 

You stand up after he pays the bill. “That sounds like a fine deal to me.” You wink and take his arm as he guides you out onto the street.

The line for the Louvre isn’t incredibly long and soon the two of you are walking into the cool interior. The smell of the building always makes Ezra sigh. The scent of thousands of paintings and pieces giving the air a heady tone. “What shall we take in first, little bird?” He asks, curious to see where your interests will lead you.

You bite your lip, guiding him towards the nearest hallway, eager to see it all. “I want to see everything.” You tell him and he chuckles. You look up at the ceiling in awe of the paintings and the tapestry and you smile at Ezra. “This is incredible.” You exhale in amazement. “Thank you for coming with me.” You tell him as you start to admire the first piece of art.

“You are most welcomed.” Ezra watches you. Smiling as you get lost in the wonder of the museum. Lips parted as you gaze at the beauty in front of you, though he doesn’t even know what you are looking at. Too busy staring at his own version of art.

You don’t notice him staring at you as you admire the piece, in awe of the detail and you turn to finally catch him watching you and you reach up to pat down your hair. “Is there something on my face?” You ask, touching your cheek, feeling self conscious.

“Every hair is in place and your skin is as clear as a cloudless sky, chérie.” He assures you, smiling softly. “Forgive my lack of manners. I found your reaction to the art breathtaking.”

You fluster, shaking your head at his insanely generous compliments. “You flatter me too much, Mr. Ezra. I am a mere woman, not a goddess.” You reprimand him softly, “Now, let’s continue before I have no choice but to melt into the marble from your kind words.” You tell him and pat his hand, continuing to walk and admire the art.

“I am mistaken.” Ezra hums, his steps jaunty beside you and he grins when you cock your head in curiosity. “You are an angel, fallen from heaven to walk among us mere mortals.”

You playfully roll your eyes, “then you are the devil himself come to tempt me. With his perfect jaw and that gorgeous nose.” You compliment him, “come to shower me with flattery when it’s he who looks like Adonis.” You murmur, wanting him to feel just as flustered.

He preens, just every so slightly, at your compliments. Shaking his head and winking at you. “Adonis, huh?” He asks, smirking. “I can accept that. As long as my own fair observations are taken as the gospel truth. You know the devil was God’s perfect angel, until he wasn’t.”

You slap his hand playfully, “let’s agree to disagree.” You tell him and he hums, “very well. I am nothing but a gentleman.” 

His words still have your stomach twisting and you realize it feels like you’ve known Ezra for your entire life instead of one day. “And when the devil fell from heaven…he was temptation incarnate.” You add playfully.

“And what can I do to tempt you?” He teases, frowning slightly when he realizes how sordid he sounds. “Apologies, little bird,” he murmurs sincerely. “Please do not allow me to make you uncomfortable if I overstep.”

“Do not fret, you aren’t making me uncomfortable. In fact, I like it. I like our banter. As for tempting me…you’re already doing a fine job.” You assure him with a smirk, glancing at the piece of art you stop in front of, feeling his gaze burn into the side of your face.

Ezra hums, wondering what kind of temptation he’s providing. Since the war, his own companionship has been the occasional woman he has paid for a night between her thighs, not ashamed of that, but he knows that he is not a man most would look at as a potential partner. Especially after his return to the states.

You see his curious face and you giggle softly, “come on Ezra. Let’s continue. I want to see the Mona Lisa too.” You stroll through the museum, knowing you won’t be able to see it all but you want to see the pieces you’ve seen in books, that you’ve longed to see in person.

The two of you debate. A friendly conversation about pieces that you come across and observations that have you both in stitches as you continue into the museum and Ezra points out some of his favorite paintings. The hand tucked around his arm slowly morphs into your hand in his, allowing him to point as he brings up your hand with it. Standing in front of his favorite, ‘The Battle Between Love and Chastity’, he hums as he lifts your hand to press a kiss to the back of it.

Your heart thumps at his soft kiss and you offer him a soft smile. “Something you have experience with?” You joke softly and he winks at you, “perhaps.” You giggle and shake your head, looking back at the piece. You’re enjoying holding his hand and admiring the art beside him.

Ezra explains why he loves the piece in great detail, shrugging slightly at his impassioned he had become. “There is something about throwing away society’s expectations that I enjoy.” He tells you with a smile.

You smirk, “that I can already tell and I admire it. Being outside of the social norm. That’s what I wanted to escape. I didn’t want to conform or be a puppet.” You sigh, revealing slightly why you came to Paris. You squeeze his hand, “shall we continue?” You ask, clearing your throat when he starts to open his mouth, clearly wanting to ask questions you don’t want to answer.

“Of course, little bird.” You are not comfortable sharing and he would not dream of pushing you. Nodding, he guides you on to the next exhibit, simply enjoying being your escort.

You explore as much of the museum as you can, spending far too much time exploring the Louvre and soon you are back out on the bustling streets of Paris. “Thank you for today, truly. It’s been a day to remember.” You tell Ezra, squeezing his hand.

“I should be extending my gratitude to you, little bird.” Ezra protests, smiling at the way the low sun shines off your hair. “I cannot recall a more enjoyable or relaxing day.” He tucks your hand back around his elbow. “Perhaps we can reproduce the experience another time?”

“Absolutely.” You assure him, “I would be honored to be escorted around Paris by a handsome man.” You wink at him, “hardly a difficult thing to agree to. Next time though, lunch is on me.”

He shakes his head, knowing that you will argue with him if he insists he pay. “Then I will show you the best little cafes in Paris, you will be astounded with how much there is to offer in just our little neighborhood alone.”

“That sounds like a deal.” You smile at Ezra as he escorts you back to your apartment building. He’s charming and intelligent and you know it’s dangerous to feel this way so quickly but you can’t help it. He’s enchanting. “Today was incredible.” You sigh when you arrive outside of your door, “thank you for spending today with me.”

“The sublime pleasure was exceedingly mine, little bird.” Ezra reaches for your hand to kiss softly. His thumb rubs the skin before he presses his lips to it as he looks up at you. “Your beauty still surpasses all of the greatest works in the Louvre.”

Your heart pounds in your chest and you look at him, “you flatter me far too much.” You softly reprimand him, “especially when you are carved like the Greek statues.” You return his compliment and you love the way he ducks his head shyly.

“Perhaps by the profile with the hawkish nose.” Ezra chuckles. “Although my hair does curl when longer than its current styling.

“I’d like to see that sometime.” You tell him and you lower your hand from his, reaching into your purse to pull your keys out. “Thank you for today, Ezra.” You repeat and lean in to kiss his cheek, taking a beat until you lean back, turning to open your front door. “I’ll be inviting you to dinner again soon.” You warn him playfully, “you’ll be sick of me soon.” You joke, getting your door open and turning back to look at him.

“I am most dubious about that assertion, little bird.” Ezra nods and smiles at you. “May your evening be soft and luxurious.”

His words wash over you, calming you like a warm bath, and you offer him one last smile before you disappear into your apartment. He has wiggled his way into your mind and heart after a ridiculously short amount of time. You know it would be easy to fall in love with him. 

****

“Good evening Ezra.” You greet your neighbor when he opens the door  to your apartment and strides in. You’re at the stove finishing up dinner and he comes over to set the bottle of wine down on the counter. You’ve spent the past month getting to know the man and you’re in love. He’s smart, charming, and devastatingly attractive. It’s a combination that has you thinking of him nearly every moment of the day.

“Good evening, little bird.” Ezra smiles as he notices the glasses are already set out. “I will pour us a generous serving of wine and set the table if that is agreeable with you?” He has insisted that he help in some small ways since you are feeding him, never allowing him to help clean up.

You nod, “that sounds like a plan.” You turn back to the stove to stir the sauce, wanting him to enjoy this piece of home you’ve decided to cook for him. He works fast to set the table and soon enough, he’s sliding a glass of wine into your hand.

“It smells divine, chérie.” Ezra groans, leaning over to get a better whiff. “I must confess I will need to have the local tailor let out my trousers if you continue to feed me such scrumptious meals.”

You chuckle, “we can always walk more now that the evenings are lighter and the weather is better.” You compromise and he hums, “very well. We can indulge and then walk it off.” He winks and you sip your wine, setting the glass down before you bend over to check the meatloaf.

He can’t help but admire your shapely bottom as you lean over the little oven. Groaning quietly as the racy thoughts filter through his mind and he reminds himself that you are his friend and neighbor.

You stand up, unaware of his internal battle, and you get to work on the mashed potatoes. “Go take a seat. It won’t be long.” You promise and he nods, making his way over to the table with his glass of wine. It’s only another five minutes until you’re plating up the meal and Ezra groans as you set his plate down in front of him. After you’ve sat down with your own plate, you pick up your glass, “to home comforts.” You toast playfully, liking his answering grin as he clinks his glass against yours.

“I must commend you, chérie.” Ezra groans after just one bite of the meatloaf. “When we first met you claimed to be lacking in the culinary arts, yet every meal seems to be near ambrosia.”

You shake your head, “you flatter me far too much. Soon, I won’t be able to fit my head through the door.” You joke and he chuckles, “I am merely stating the truth.” You hum, chewing your first bite and after you swallow you say, “then I guess finishing school wasn’t the waste of money my parents think it was.” You half joke, knowing your parents must be furious at you for leaving without a word. “It’s nice to cook for you. I- I cook with passion instead of duty because I want you to enjoy it.”

“Passion instead of duty is always preferable.” Ezra acknowledges, tilting his head at mention of your parents yet again. You speak of them in a way that makes him believe that they are ashamed of you. “If you will give me your parents address, I will write a strongly worded letter telling them exactly how your finishing school has benefited and that you are a model lady.”

You smile sadly, “I appreciate that but I highly doubt they would believe you.” He chuckles softly, “I said strong worded, little bird. I can be quite convincing.” He assures you and you snort, remembering the time he convinced you to try escargot and you hated it. He had made it sound so delicious. 

“Yet you didn’t convince me to enjoy snails.” You retort and he chuckles, shaking his head, “touché.” You continue eating and once you’ve finished, you carry the dishes to the sink and Ezra stands, wanting to help you clean. “Leave them to soak. I want to go dancing tonight. You did promise to take me dancing.” You remind him with a playful nudge.

“If we are going dancing, little bird, you must change into your finest dress.” He hums, wanting to make you smile. “I will change into a suit better suited for escorting a lady as lovely as yourself.” He smirks at his words and winks at you again.

“Meet in twenty minutes so we can get freshened up.” You pat his shoulder and he nods, making his way out of your apartment to get ready. You rush around, changing into your finest dress. It’s bright red and hugs your curves, wanting him to be taken back by your appearance. You’ve known him for a month now and it’s hard to deny that you love him. You’re in love with him. He’s handsome but he’s so much more than that. He’s clever, funny, and he manages to make you feel like you’re walking on air. You fix your hair and makeup and grab your purse, heading to the door after you hear Ezra knock on it.

His hand shakes, pulling it back from the door so he can check his hair once again. He had checked in a charcoal gray suit with a red shirt and back vest. Slicked his hair back and dragged his razor over his jaw so that his skin is smooth, beside his mustache. The cologne was the finishing touch, and he hopes he is presentable for you.

You open the door to him, a wide smile on your face when you see him. “You look so handsome.” You coo, reaching up to caress his cheek, and he reaches for your hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss the back of it. 

“You look like Aphrodite herself. A true vision.” You fluster and squeeze his hand when he lowers it from his lips. “Shall we go?” He asks and you nod, turning to quickly lock your door, and he guides you down the hall and down the stairs, out onto the streets of Paris.

“Now chérie, I am going to take you to a club that is rather….risque.” He announces, grinning at you. “Is that agreeable? You will be perfectly safe, I assure you.”

You nod, “I came to Paris to experience life. I am most agreeable.” You promise and he guides you along the still bustling streets. “Where are we going Ezra?” You ask, curious now that you’re heading out of your normal walking paths.

“Folies Bergère.” Ezra chuckles. “There is also a dance floor after we are inspired by the cabaret dancers.” He wants to take you to a place that is famous and fun. One that you will remember your first experience. “We will drink champagne and dance the night away.”

It sounds like the perfect night and it is. When you arrive, you are escorted to a small table off to the side of the rows of seats and Ezra gestures for you to sit, immediately calling the waiter over to order champagne. “Now this truly feels like Paris.” You declare as you look around the ornate theater, in awe of its grandeur.

“Wait until the performance starts, chérie.” He hums, reaching for your hand as if it is second nature. “I know you are aware of the female form, but the act is nearly erotic in nature and I hope you enjoy it.”

You bite your lip, a little nervous to see what the show will bring and you sip the champagne after it’s poured and Ezra toasts to “new experiences.” You offer him a nervous smile and he winks at you since he’s holding his glass. The lights go down after everyone has taken their seats and you anxiously await the start of the show.

As soon as the music starts, Ezra turns towards you. Wanting to see your reaction as the scantily clad women rush out onto the stage and immediately break into a very perfectly choreographed dance. Every step is perfectly struck and position posed, fun and flirty, sexy and thrilling.

Your eyes widen as the women come onto the stage, starting their routine, and you’ve never seen anything like it. Back home, your parents would’ve had a heart attack at just seeing a woman wearing a dress that clung to her curves. This is beyond that and it’s thrilling. “Oh my God.” You grin, watching the dancers with delight. This is what you wanted, to see things you’ve never seen before.

You are entranced, bewitching to look at and Ezra happily falls under your spell. Watching the lights shine across your face when the spotlights move and your laughter and clapping is the music he hears. He’s fallen in love with you, completely and totally in love. “You’re gorgeous.” He blurts out, flushing slightly when the music is quiet and his proclamation was louder than intended.

There’s a moment where Ezra could have pulled back or rethought the idea that rushes through his mind. He doesn’t though. Caught up in the moment, he lunges forward and presses his lips to your urgently. As if he would expire if he did not sample your lips. Watching your eyes widen in surprise and then start to flutter closed as you moan quietly against his lips.

You reach up to cup his cheek, letting his lips press against yours while the music continues to play. When he pulls back after several moments, you smile and he nudges his nose against yours. "Ezra." You whisper so only he can hear with the music coming to an end and the crowd claps the dancers, making you pull back to look into those dark eyes.

By the time the show is over, Ezra feels tipsy. Not from the champagne, he is drunk on you. The feeling of knowing that his romantic feelings are reciprocated has him flying and he stands, still holding your hand and smiling down at you. “Chérie, would you permit me to escort you to the dance floor, where I might hold you closer than socially acceptable for the duration of as many songs as our feet can tolerate?”

You stand up, letting him guide you to the floor after you say “I’ll dance with you all night, my love.” You let him escort you to the floor where the band is playing and you inhale sharply when his arm pulls you close. You reach up to grip his shoulders, leaning on towards him until your forehead is pressed against his, as tight as you can get while the song plays.

“Little bird, I must confess something.” He whispers, swaying with you gently and wishing that he had his other arm so he could hold more of you. “I must admit that I have fallen for you. Hopelessly and desperately in love with you. With no possible end in sight.”

You giggle, almost drunk off of your emotions, and he leans back, hurt clear on his face but you quickly cup his cheeks, barely swaying as you force his eyes to meet yours. “I’m yours, Ezra. You have my heart, my soul, my body. I love you. Every part of me loves every part of you.” You vow. He’s told you the horrors he endured during his service and it didn’t change a thing.

He closes his eyes and leans into your touch, nuzzling your hand. “Perhap, when you are ready, we might….explore the art depicted in my favorite painting at the Louvre?” He ventures. He would never dream of pressuring you, but he aches to touch you, to caress your skin and lose himself in your body.

You shiver at the suggestion, your body lighting up at the mere thought of him touching you. You slide your hands down to his chest, “I’m ready. I’ve been ready for a while but there’s something you should know.” Your eyes flick up to meet his, “I have never…it’s - you’d be the first.”

Ezra’s breath catches and he stares into your eyes solemnly. “I am honored you would trust me with such a wondrous gift, little bird.” He murmurs softly. “I can assure you that nothing will be done without your enthusiastic approval.”

You nod, trusting him implicitly, and you stop moving as the song ends. You stare into his eyes, “take me home and make me yours, Ezra.” You demand, wanting him tonight and to give him all of you.

“I- yes.” Ezra breaths. “Whatever you wish, chérie.” He takes your hand and brings it up to kiss the back of it. “Let us make our way back to our abodes and we shall begin to become more intimately acquainted.”

You let him escort you through the crowd and out onto the now chilly streets of Paris, walking a little faster than you have known him to walk before as he guides you back to your building. “We have all night, mon amor.” You giggle playfully and squeeze his hand, “I’m yours for tomorrow too, not just tonight.”

“Forgive me, chérie.” Ezra flushes slightly. “It has been awhile for me and I must admit that I am eager to learn what makes you moan.”

You fluster, glad he’s eager to be with you. “I have wondered many nights what your touch would feel like. I’ve…explored my own body and know what feels good but I want to feel you, I want to hear you moan my name. I want you to feel pleasure.” You murmur, leaning against him as you turn onto your street.

“My little bird is a seductress.” Ezra groans, his cock twitching in his suit pants and he wants nothing more than to feel your heat around him. “Tell me, have you ever heard of fellatio or cunnilingus?” He asks, his voice dropping. “Using my mouth on your cunt to make you feel like you are flying?”

Just his words make your cunt bottom out and your stomach twists with anticipation. “I- I’ve read about it in my books. Novels. Books my parents didn’t know I had.” You confess to owning erotica and his voice has your cunt dripping and you walk a little faster, eager when you see your building in sight.

He chuckles, watching you pull away in your eagerness. “Then you won’t be scandalized when I tell you that I want to slide my tongue through your cunt until you are crying out my name and soaking my face.”

You gasp at his scandalous words but not because you are shocked. No, you are turned on. His words send a wave of arousal and need through you and you are practically sprinting to the front door of your building. When you fumble to open the door with your key, Ezra’s hand slides down your back to squeeze your ass and you drag him inside, pushing him against the door to press your lips to his, uncaring of your neighbors possibly witnessing your display.

Ezra groans and when he can, his tongue slides inside your mouth, drinking down your moan. His cock is swelling, rapidly hardening against your body as you press yourself against him. Wishing again he had both arms so he could pick you up and carry you to your apartment.

You kiss for several moments until a door slams from the floor above and you pull back, giggling as you start to climb the stairs to your apartment. Ezra struggles a little due to the situation in his trousers and you are fumbling with your lock when he comes up behind you, caressing your back. “Are you sure, little bird?” He asks, his voice rough and full of lust. It’s enough to make you shiver. You open the door and step inside, reaching for his hand. “I’m sure, Ezra. I want you. I love you.”

Nodding, he doesn’t insult you by questioning you again. He steps into your apartment and kicks the door shut. “Chérie, you tell me if there is anything you do not like.” He demands. “I wish for this to be nothing but joyous.” He will do his damndest to make it exactly what you want. “Now show me your bedroom.”

You take his hand after you set your purse down to guide him to your bedroom. He’s never been in here before and you fluster at the clothes that are on the floor from your rush to pick an outfit for going dancing with him. “Sorry about the mess.” You murmur and he chuckles, shrugging off his jacket to drape it over the chair in the corner. 

“Do not fret little bird, I’ve seen far worse.” He assures you and you swallow harshly, the quiet of the room brings the seriousness of this night but you still want him. You reach up to unclip his tie, knowing he uses those since he can no longer tie his own, and you reach for the hem of his shirt after you toss the tie to the chair. “I want to see you.” You request, keeping your hands on the hem in case he doesn’t want you to remove it.

“My arm-“ he swallows nervously. “It is not pretty.” He fears that you might still turn him away. “They did the best they could, but it is still a missing arm.” He holds your hand for a moment and then lets go. “But if you wish to see me, there is nothing I would deny you.”

“My love.” You let go of his shirt to reach up and cup his cheeks, “I want to see all of you. Let me love all of you. I do not care about your imperfections. I have my own. I simply wish to see the man I love. All of him.” 

Ezra nods, a lump in his throat, and you reach down to lift his shirt over his head. When it flutters to the floor, your eyes meet his until they shift to his body. The scars that scatter his skin from battle and the jagged edge of his missing limb. You aren’t repulsed, in fact, it makes you love him more for enduring such hardship. You lean down to press your lips to his shoulder, kissing along the scars that lead to his amputation.

He shudders, inhaling a ragged breath as you show him more acceptance than anyone ever has before. Standing before you in his trousers, he stands proud, enjoying the heated look in your eyes when they find his again. “I only wish I could assist you out of your dress, little bird.”

You shake your head, stepping back to reach behind you and pull the zipper of your dress down. “Do not worry about that, Ezra. You can take my panties off.” You wink and try to cover up your nerves as you let your dress fall to the floor after you kick your heels aside, revealing your underwear to his hungry gaze.

“Aphrodite herself.” Ezra groans, his eyes drinking in every inch of skin you have revealed to him. “I am a mere mortal in the presence of a goddess.” He declares, stepping closer and caressing your waist as he leans in to kiss you. You are still wearing a bra so he slides his hand around to try to unclip it while you kiss.

His tongue slides against yours and you can feel him fumbling so you reach behind you to help him unclip your bra, letting him drag it down your arms until it’s falling to the floor. You caress his chest, sliding your hands up until you are wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chest against his. His hard cock digging into your hip and you want to see all of him. Your hands let go of his neck so you can reach between you to undo his pants, shoving them down and he kicks his shoes off so he’s only in his briefs and socks. 

“Can I?” You ask, wanting him to be comfortable and when he nods, you hook your fingers in his underwear to drag them down. Your eyes wide when his thick length bounces free in front of your face. “Oh my God.” You gasp at him and reach up to wrap your fingers around him instinctively.

“Shit.” Ezra hisses, his length pulsing in your grip. “I- I have imagined your hand around my cock many times, little bird.” He confesses. “And yet I find that my imagination was sorely lacking in the realization of how good you would feel.” He doesn’t want you to be fearful so he reaches down and grabs your hand so he can help you back to your feet. “I wish to taste you.” He croaks. “Lay down on the bed so I can strip off your panties and lay my eyes on heaven.”

You don’t deny him. Shifting back to lay on your bed, head on the pillows, and you watch him as he kicks his briefs off his ankles and is left only in his socks as he kneels on the bed. Your heart pounds in your chest as he reaches out to hook his fingers in your panties on one side of your body and he carefully manages to shimmy them down until you are naked. Once he tosses them aside, his hand slides along your calf until he’s gripping your thigh and you grant him his silent wish, spreading your legs for him.

“Heaven.” Ezra proclaims, his eyes fixed on the thatch of neat curls that cover your sex. “I will be washed clean of all my sins in the pool between your thighs.” He traces lines over your skin with his fingers and he bends down to press a kiss to your knee. Shuffling down, he lowers himself down as he kisses along your thigh.

His words seem too poetic for such a naughty act but your chest heaves as his kisses get closer to your cunt. When his breath washes over the sensitive skin, you whimper and his deep chuckle echoes in your bedroom. “Ezra.” You gasp when he leans closer and his tongue dips between your folds, sampling your tangy arousal, and your eyes close as the pleasure tingles over your body.

Ezra groans, the sound vibrating directly into your core and immediately he’s entranced. Addicted to you and the way your thighs tighten around his head. Flicking his tongue over your clit, he wishes he could spread your legs wide and hold you open while he devours you like the feast you are.

Your head is thrown back when he sucks on your clit, the pleasure making your head spin. You’ve never experienced anything like this. His wet mouth on your cunt has your heart pounding in your chest. “Fuck, Ezra.” You curse, panting as he pushes his tongue inside of you. “So good. It feels so good.”

Moaning, he loves the way your walls pulse around his tongue, trying to draw him deeper. He shuffles down until he is flat on his belly, turned slightly so he can lay on his right side. It doesn’t hurt to lay against his amputation and it allows him to still stroke your thigh and stomach with his left hand. Wanting to make this amazing for you and get you ready to take him.

"Shit. You - you feel so good baby." You sigh, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair, and your heart pounds in your chest when his dark eyes meet yours. "Oh God. So good." You pant when he slides his hand down, gathering up your slick, and he pushes a finger inside of you.

He has practiced this. With the women he had paid, so he is not fumbling like he might have been. Though you would not know there was finesse to his touch either way. Your cunt squeezes his fingers and he groans before he pulls his head away. “I am going to prepare you for my cock, little bird, you might feel very full but it is so I do not hurt you.”

You are nervous but you know he would never hurt you. You watch him, eyelashes fluttering as he scissors his fingers inside of you. "Oh God, Ezra." You whimper when he resumes sucking your clit. It's more pleasure than you've ever known and you love the man giving it to you. "Please." You beg, not sure what you are begging for but you feel the tension building in your belly.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” He coos, pulling off your clit before he dives back into your folds. His fingers pump and curl up inside you, pressing against the spongy spots until your hips jolt up and you cry out letting him know he’s found it. Determined to make you cum, he presses against that spot again and again while he sucks your clit into his mouth.

“Oh shit.” You hiss, back arching as the tension coils tighter until you’re falling apart. Clamping down on his fingers, you moan his name and wonder how on earth you survived without his touch. Soaking his fingers, you grip the sheets and squeeze your eyes shut as the pleasure surges through you.

Liquid gold. That is what rushes over his fingers as you fall apart. Coating them and his wrist while your walls squeeze his fingers like a vice. Making him groan at how tightly your body will hold his cock as he works you through your high.

“Oh God.” You pant, slumping against the mattress as he withdraws his fingers and you open your eyes, shifting to look down at him, loving the smirk on his face after he sucks his digits into his mouth. “Kiss me.” You beg, wanting to feel him over you.

Crawling up your body is not as graceful as it might have been before the war. He cannot pause and kiss or nip here and there as often as he would like. When he finally settles between your thighs, his cock against your mound, he smiles softly at you. “You wish for a kiss, little bird? I will grant you all the wishes you desire. Just call me your genie.”

You chuckle at his smooth words, your hands caressing every inch of his body that you can touch. “I love you.” You murmur before he leans in to kiss you. You feel his smile against your lips and you love how happy you feel in this moment. His weight is braced on his forearm and you reach between you to grip his cock, wanting to stroke him but you don’t really know what you’re doing.

He grunts, closing his eyes slightly. “Loosen your grip and slide your hand up and down.” He breathes out raggedly. “Feel how the skin moves over the hardness underneath?”

You follow his order, amazed at how he feels like velvet despite the hardness beneath. You slide your hand up and down, your thumb swiping over the leaking head unknowingly and he groans in response. “You’re big.” You tell him despite not having anything to compare him to. He’s big in your grip and that’s all you can go by.

“It will fit, most assuredly.” He groans. “The clutch of your cunt will be like the hottest glove I have ever worn.” He rocks his hips into your grip and twitches in your hand. “Little bird, I fear I am much too enthusiastic for you to continue. Otherwise I might cause myself great embarrassment by finishing before we can truly begin.”

You loosen your grip and he sighs in relief, making you smile. You’re pleased he’s just as affected by you as you are of him. “Put me in.” Ezra orders and you swallow harshly, suddenly nervous as you guide him towards your cunt. When he’s notched at your entrance, he starts to slowly push inside of you and your hands grip his back, eyes closed as you brace yourself for the pain you’ve heard about.

Ezra takes his time, breaking you forward an inch at a time. His jaw is clenched and his arm trembling from the effort to take it slow. When you close your eyes, brows knitted together, he drops down to his elbow and kisses you. “Relax, little bird.” He promises, feeling your walls tighten in anticipation.

You slide your hands up to cup his cheeks, keeping his lips against yours, and you whimper when he pushes deeper, trying to relax when he tells you to. “God.” You pant, half wishing this was over and half wishing this would last forever.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He promises, pushing his hips slightly deeper into the crevice of your thighs and smoothly through your innocence to completely fill you.

You gasp in pain but he soothes it away by leaning in to kiss you, distracting you, and you kiss for several moments, tongues tangled while your body adjusts to the intrusion. “Please, Ezra.” You whimper when his cock twitches inside of you. You want him to move, the pain now transforming into the beginnings of pleasure and your heart pounds in your chest at having the man you love take your innocence.

“We have all the time in the world, my love.” He assures you, not wanting you to feel like you have to rush towards bliss. His kisses keep you occupied for another moment and when he feels your inner muscles start to quiver, that he knows he can move without any resistance. “You feel perfect, the feeling cannot be described.” He is nearly speechless as he starts to pull his hips back slowly, keeping the movement measured when he slowly sinks back into you.

Your chest feels tight with emotion as he rocks into you, making you lift your legs higher. His groan vibrates into your chin after he presses a soft kiss there, and you slide your hands along his back. "It feels so good. Never- never imagined it would feel like this."

“Love making is supposed to feel good, like you never want it to end.” His words roll out, groaning slightly at how perfect you are. “I want you to feel nothing but pleasure with me.”

You chuckle softly, "I never want this to end." You confess, kissing along his neck as he moves inside of you with measured thrusts and when you lift your leg higher onto his hips, you whimper at the new sensation. "No one else I want to feel like this. Only you. I love you." You murmur, loving how you feel like the only people in the world.

“I adore you.” Ezra groans, closing his eyes as he rocks in and out of you. “My perfect little bird. So beautiful and trusting, so giving.” He kisses along your shoulder and groans when you squeeze him tight.

His honeyed words wash over you, making you feel like it's a struggle to breathe, but you pant out, "all yours." You feel that tension coiling in your stomach but it's slow, not as intense, just building with each rock of his hips. "Oh God, Ezra. I need-" You don't know what you need, just that it feels good and you want more.

“I wish I could do it, my love.” Ezra huffs, wanting to be the one to bring you all your pleasure tonight. “But reach down and rub your little button. The one I sucked on so satisfyingly.”

You reach down between you, your fingers finding your clit, and you whimper as you get the pleasure your body craved. His cock moves inside of you, hitting the right spot to make you whimper, and when he shifts his hips again, your head tilts back into the pillow as you cry out his name.

“Magnificent.” Ezra grunts, clenching his teeth together as your walls clamp down on his cock and you soak him in your pleasure. “Good girl. Good girl.”

Your eyes are closed and Ezra is leaning down to kiss along your neck, making you whimper, and you want Ezra to cum. “Baby. Oh baby. I want you to - please. Inside. I don’t care. I want to feel all of you.”

He shudders, imagining that feeling of filling you up and even though he knows it’s risky, he does. His pace picks up and he rocks into you with less measured thrusts. Half a dozen more times before he is moaning your name, pushing deep as his cock throbs and he paints your walls with his seed.

You close your eyes, loving how it feels to be totally consumed by him like this, and you whimper when he works himself through his orgasm, his seed pushed out of you, and you tangle your fingers in his hair to bring his face to yours, pressing your lips against his.

Ezra sighs against your lips. Enjoying the feeling of his high and he shifts so he can move his weight off his left arm, lowering himself onto you so it is not too uncomfortable for you. “I love you.” He murmurs against your lips.

“Love you too, baby.” You smile against his mouth, your hands shifting to caress his back. You love all of him, even the parts he’s missing. You adore him and you know you want to be his. You shift so he can lay on his side and you immediately move to curl around him, his cock sliding out of you at the move, and you don’t care about his seed dripping out of you as you breathe him in.

“I must confess that words are failing me, little bird.” His arm wraps around you, caressing your back as he tries to catch his breath. It had been such a long time since he had felt this way. Like he is whole. Not because of a missing limb, but because of your love.

“No words. Just us.” You murmur, closing your eyes as the events of the night catch up on you. He kisses your hair and you know you made the right choice coming to Paris. “Sleep, little bird.” Ezra urges, knowing you are exhausted. You hum, breathing him in and you fall asleep surrounded by him. 

****

* knock knock * 

The front door is shaking with the knocks, several in a row, and you are still asleep. “Coming!” Ezra calls out, struggling to pull his trousers on as he walks over to open the door before it can wake you up. “I think the door just about survived your incessant attack. How can I help you, sir?” Ezra asks, his shirt barely pulled over his head and untucked and he feels the other man’s anger as his eyes assess Ezra. He announces that he’s looking for you. “She’s thankfully still asleep right now, no thanks to your monstrous knocking. May I inquire as to whom is seeking an audience with her?” Ezra asks. 

“Tell her it’s Jacob. Her fiancé.”

Ezra’s stomach drops, his mouth parts but for a moment no words come out. “I believe you might be mistaken.” He manages after a moment of disbelief. “The lady is not engaged, she is unattached and has been for the duration of her time in Paris.” This is some kind of mistake. It has to be. You would not lie to him and keep a fiancé a secret.

“You are the one who is mistaken. She accepted my proposal. Her parents and my parents are close friends. She escaped to Paris and we thought she’d come back but it’s been a month and she’s - it looks like she has kept herself busy.” Jacob says in disgust as he looks at Ezra. 

You come out of your bedroom, robe hastily tied around your waist and your eyes widen when you see Jacob standing at your door. “Jacob? What are you doing here?”

“You are acquainted with this man?” The shock on your face is answer enough and Ezra feels like he has been played for a fool. He hears Jacob scoff and he can’t even remember to excuse himself before he is pushing past you to gather the remainder of his clothes so he can leave. You are engaged. What was this? Some kind of power trip for you? Making the poor fool fall in love with you before you go back to your life in America? Ezra growls, pissed that he doesn’t have two hands as he shoves his feet into his shoes without socks and grabs his tie and jacket.

“Ezra. Wait. Let me explain. Please.” You beg, trying to reach for him but he shrugs your hand away, spinning to push past Jacob and he storms down the hall. “Ezra. Please!” You beg, pushing past Jacob to follow him. 

“What do you want?” Ezra growls as he faces you. 

Your lower lip trembles at the disgust you see in his eyes. “Please let me explain. It’s complicated.”

“It is not complicated.” He hisses. “You led me to believe that you were unencumbered. When you have a doting fiancé waiting at home for you to warm his bed.” He is so hurt that he feels like he is going to lash out at you. “Go back to your fiancé.” He spits. “You can tell him that you slept with me out of pity.” Turning back around he tosses his jacket over his shoulder and quickly opens the door to his apartment, slamming it shut behind him.

Your eyes sting with tears and you turn to make your way back onto your apartment where Jacob is still waiting for you. “Looks like you’ve settled into Parisian life.” Jacob scoffs and you shut the door behind you. 

“I- I can’t go home with you. I love it here. It’s my home now. I belong here. Please Jacob. Don’t - don’t make me go home.” You plead and he shakes his head. 

“Your parents wanted me to bring you back. You know they are anxious for us to be married. When you left, they were frantic until they got your letter. They have been looking for you for weeks. They sent me here to bring you home so we can get married.” He tells you and you shake your head. 

You walk over to him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You know I love you, but as my friend. Our fathers…they always wanted us to marry but - you didn’t even propose. It was - it was arranged and I didn’t want that. I want love. Don’t you want love?” You ask him. 

Jacob swallows harshly, reaching for your hand to lower it from his face. “I have love. Her name…Cheryl. She’s perfect and I- I want to marry her.” He admits for the first time out loud. 

You grin, squeezing his hand, “then marry her. You and I are good friends but that’s it. I love you but I’m not in love with you.” You tell him and he nods, “you’re in love with him.” 

He jerks his chin to the door and it’s not a question, its a statement. You nod and Jacob sighs, “your parents are gonna be pissed at me for not bringing you home.” 

You chuckle, “when have we ever cared about what they think? I ran away because they have controlled me for too long. My father is still engrossed in war time but we are at peace now and I want to live, to love. Tell them I’m sorry, but I’m happy here.” You tell Jacob who nods, 

“I’ll tell them.” He leans down to kiss your cheek, “be happy.” He murmurs and you nod when he pulls back to look at you. 

“You too.” 

He lets go of your hand and walks over to your front door, knowing he’s going to have grief when he gets home but it will be worth it if he can marry Cheryl. You watch him close the door and decide to get dressed and find Ezra.

In his apartment, the few tears he had shed have been replaced by stifling anger. Scowling and ripping through his closet, the bag on the bed lays open to be stuffed with clothes. He cannot live here any longer. The furnished apartment had been a very comfortable place to be but he will be reminded by your betrayal. Curses hissed out from under his breath accompanying his hurried packing, hoping that he gets done and leaves before the sounds of love making come through the walls.

You open Ezra’s apartment door that he neglected to lock in his rush, and you find him packing a bag. “You’re leaving?” You choke and he doesn’t even look at you. 

“Aren’t you? Heading back to your pre-planned life in America? What was I? Just a joke? Seduce the one armed man so I can titter about him when I have luncheons in Boston?” Ezra hisses and you shake your head. 

“My love-” 

“Do not call me that.” He growls and you swallow, “Jacob and I were arranged to be married. Our families have been close friends for our entire lives. Our fathers served together in the Great War and they wanted us to be a family. Jacob never proposed properly. I never received a ring. It was on paper. That’s why I ran away. I didn’t want to marry him. I love him as a friend and nothing more. I swear to you, I wasn’t engaged to him in my heart, only in the eyes of my parents. I love you. I’m sorry I lied. I didn’t - I thought that it would brush over and Jacob would get married and I’d be free. I should’ve told you. I should’ve disclosed why I was here.”

He doesn’t believe you, shaking his head, he scoffs. “Yet there was a man on your doorstep, disgusted to see me in his place.” He reminds you. “I do not believe you little bird, I regret that you believe me to be so gullible. You’re just like her.” He hisses. “Pitying me and believing my lost arm has rendered me addle-brained as well.”

You shake your head, "just like who? Baby, I love you. Please don't do this. I love you and I - I'm so sorry I lied. I didn't - he isn't - we aren't engaged. Not in the traditional sense." You urge him to believe you.

“She was my fiancé.” He reveals, his frantic packing paused and he looks up at you with anger and sadness mixed together. “She told me in letters that she didn’t care that I had lost my arm. She loved me. She wanted me. Until I went home. She had been sleeping with my best friend. Told me that she hadn’t thought of us engaged once I had been wounded.”

“Oh God, Ezra. I’m so sorry.” You choke, fingers twitching with the need to comfort him. “Baby. I- oh God. I know you must hate me now and I understand. I get it. I- I’ll go. I’ll go. I’m sorry. Just - just know that I love you. I’m so in love with you and I’ve never felt this way before. I know you think I’m a whore and just like your ex fiancé. I’ll go.” You choke, tears now streaming down your cheeks because you know it’s over. He can’t forgive you.

Ezra closes his eyes, his shoulders slumping and he sighs. “Little bird….” He chokes out, gripping the shirt he had been packing in a tight fist. “You- swear to me that you are telling me the truth.” He demands. “That you never wanted to marry this man and he felt the same towards you.”

“I never wanted to marry him. He’s my friend. Nothing more. I swear to you.” You sob, “he - he’s in love with a woman called Cheryl. He - we have been friends our entire lives. He’s protective and I - he didn’t know that I was in love with you but when I told him, he agreed to leave me here.”

Ezra swallows, hating to see the tears in your eyes. He drops the shirt and moves towards you hesitantly. “I am sorry.” He whispers, ashamed that he had made you cry. You are telling the truth, you love him and you never wanted to marry that other man. “Are you staying?”

You nod, “if you’ll have me. If not…I guess I’m heading home.” You murmur, glancing back at the door after you wipe your eyes. Still dressed in your robe, you feel vulnerable.

He takes another step towards you and cups your cheek, guiding your eyes back to him. “If you stay, I wish for you to be my wife.” He murmurs softly. “I want to be your husband. Not to own you or to make you unhappy. But to build a life with you here.”

Your eyes widen as his response, and you are surprised he wants to marry you. If he’d asked last night, you would’ve said yes without hesitation. “You want to marry me?” You ask softly and he nods. You lean forward to press your forehead against his cheek, “I love you. It would - I’d marry you right this second if I could.”

“I do not think we could find someone to marry us at this hour.” Ezra hums, lowering his hand so he can wrap his arm around you. “There is also the small matter of procuring you a ring. I am a man who believes in tradition, and will be wearing my own with pride.”

You let him pull you into his chest and you swallow harshly, “you want -” You’re speechless as you reach up to cup his cheeks. “I love you. I want to marry you as soon as possible. I want to be yours in every way.” You murmur, pressing your lips against his.

“You will have me, little bird.” Ezra promises, smiling at you softly. “Every bit of me. I love you. I want you to be mine and I will be yours. Forever.”

You nudge your nose against his, “forever. Maybe we can get a chateau in the country and I can have your babies?” You suggest playfully, sliding your hand down his chest to feel his heart pounding beneath your touch.

“You wish to live the life of a French country woman?” Ezra grins, “chérie, I will make sure you have your chateau and your babies. We might have even started our little family tonight.”

You sigh in bliss, “I hope so. I love you, Ezra. I am so glad I met you. You’ve changed my life and I - I hope we spend the rest of our days together.” You murmur, knowing you would never regret coming to Paris to escape your family. You are going to create your own family with Ezra. 

****

“Mon cher, come in. Lunch is ready!” You call out to the garden where your son is playing. Your daughter on your hip as you place the bread on the table. “Ezra! Lunch is ready!” You call out to your husband who has been painting in the garden.

Looking up from his painting, Ezra smiles. Setting the brush in a cup of turpentine, he calls out to André. “Come, we must eat.” He tells him as he walks over to kiss you and take his darling little girl out of your arms. “Thank you, chérie.” He murmurs, not just talking about the lunch. He’s talking about the life he has with you, something he had never hoped to have after the war and now he couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.

#pedro pascal #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect smut #ezra prospect imagine #ezra prospect fanfiction #Post WWII AU

[nerdieforpedro]

Part Eight of "The Lake Between Us"

Binary Stars

Ezra AU x Seraphina (Plus size OFC)

This blog is for readers 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 1264

Warnings: Domestic fluff (98% bruh) and implied public sex (a dash because we simmer here like Ezra's gumbo)

Summary: The end or a new beginning? That's for Ezra and Seraphina to decide.

Notes: Thank you to everyone who has kept with me and supported this series. 🥰 I'm kinda sad to end their journey but I enjoyed the pacing and that they're two mature adults navagating a relationship. Let me know what you thought of the series overall. ❤️

Main Masterlist/ Ezra Masterlist/ The Lake Between Us Series

The subsequent six months led to a few changes. 

Most nights now ended at Ezra’s home, as he often had food in addition to himself waiting for Seraphina. She felt welcome and safe in his home. It slowly changed to reflect a few brighter colors, though she did stick to his theme of green. Mainly dark greens, reminiscent of forests and secluded places one might see while skating across the water atop his airboat. 

Sera had talked him into giving her a private tour a month after their initial dinner with Cee and Zora. She’d worn a soft pink sleeveless dress to match the sunset displayed over the water’s surface. Listening to him go over the history of the unique creatures and flora that inhabit the bayou and its depths made her smile. There may have been a good bit of celebrating on the airboat. Sera indulged Ezra’s request of her calling him captain at different volumes during their heated jubilations. Once back ashore, they had dinner on the dock overlooking the twilight, the sky seemingly settling in for the evening. The small round table had a chair on each side as they ate dinner. Afterward, there were two large wooden chairs that Seraphina assumes Ezra set up closer to the edge of the dock facing the water. While they shared a bottle of rum, Ezra asked her if she ever wanted to leave. The question begged a curious look from Sera.

“Leave and go where Ezra? Are you talking of moving somewhere? I’m not sure if you’ll be able to have such a job that favors your gift of gab. My options are fairly open. What state are you considering?”

A small chuckle at her answer, he kissed her cheek and took her hand in his, interlacing their fingers.

“You appear to imply that you would be coming with me, Moonbeam. For that I am eternally grateful. I pose a different question then. Will you stay with me and not leave my bed?”

A grin creeps over Seraphina’s face, lifting her hand, she kisses the back of Ezra’s tasting the salty tang of his sweat once more. A sigh leaves her as she recalls events not too long ago in which she saw the yellows, pinks and oranges weave themselves along his chest, arms, back and face. “Is it limited to the bed, or can I actually step foot in the house? I’m fine with you carrying me but there’s going to be a few logistical issues with this.” She has his hand rest against the left side of her chest as her eyes roll from their hands, along his arm toward his face. Ezra has the same look he normally does at Seraphina: like she’s delicate, dear and meant to be adored. “I believe you were asking me to live with you my dear captain.”

It was Ezra’s turn to smirk for he was aware the effect her calling him his title had on him. He turned his body toward hers, “Would you give this old scoundrel of a captain the privilege of knowing you’ll make a home with him? Knowing that he’ll keep all your appetites fed?”

Seraphina nodded and swiftly made contact with Ezra’s lips, holding for a moment before placing her forehead against his, “Even if I were to enter from the rear my dear captain, my presence would be known no matter my status. I don’t mind if you feel the need to hide me, as long as I am allowed in. Correct?” She’d quoted back to him what’d told her when they agreed to their first date along this very dock, many months ago. Moonbean sits back in her chair and Ezra keeps his eyes focused on hers. The captain sees a playful mischief in her eyes, the same ones that regard him with constant warmth that give him comfort along with her reassuring touches. The quote has his free hand land on her knee and draw small circles around the bone. 

“There will be no hiding you Sera. Everyone in my life who’s important already knows about you. You can enter the house any way you choose.” They share another laugh before looking back at the night sky. The moonlight glowed without clouds blocking it across the water’s surface. 

It took two months to combine their homes, sorting through possessions and marking more room for each other. Once that was complete, there was the question of what to do with Seraphina’s home. 

By this time, Cee graduated with honors with her degree in business administration and Zora had hers in English with a minor in history. They asked if they could use Seraphina’s home to open a restaurant. Sera was fine with it, Ezra negotiated terms with Cee in a dinner table discussion that took two hours, three sheets of paper and five napkins to come to an agreement. Zora and Sera napped on the couch during the latter part of the exchange. Once the guardian and charge agreed, they looked to their partners with mild annoyance that they’d found them boring enough to doze off. 

The house was being modified into a restaurant but keeping most of its original structure intact. Despite the small spats Ezra and Cee would have, when it was time to create a menu, he’s written out most of his recipes with measurements. They also accounted for some allergies and vegan preferences. “To get you and Zora started Birdie.” With a hug and a kiss to her cheek, Ezra handed over the handwritten notebook and both women thanked him. They set to practicing the recipes.

A month ago, after finishing and afternoon tour, Ezra found a gray fuzzy dog hiding under one of the seats on his airboat. He was curious how it got there and even more so about the owner. Asking around at the dock yielded no answers, even after having the manager look after the dog for a few days. Seraphina suggested that maybe they could take the dog in, it wasn’t a puppy and so far according to the owner was potty trained. Flyers could stay up about the dog in the meantime. Ezra said he wasn’t sure, but then also wouldn’t put the dog down until he was in the house. They went shopping for different supplies and took it to the vet to get a clean bill of health. The dog, identified as a goldendoodle which Ezra found to be a ridiculous breed name to him, was named Pluto because the dog was a smaller size. 

Late nights into the early mornings were rare for Seraphina and Ezra outside of their home. Tonight, they were sitting on Ezra’s back porch, little Pluto warming their feet with a bottle of Jack Daniels. Seraphina wore the white nightgown that she first saw Ezra in, and he was shirtless in a loose pair of sleep shorts. Her head rested between his shoulder and his neck with his arm around her as the held hands. A single cloud graced the sky tonight and floated on by reflected on the lake’s surface. Neither of them thought that the other would end up across the lake quite like this - in each other's arms. 

There were few stars visible in the obsidian above them, save for small ones side by side.

Binary stars that had formed their own small circle relying on one another for support and to function. Together because one didn’t make sense without the other. Bound together by a profound sense of need with love filling them both. 

Merging the Star Clusters

Glimmers of moonlight on the lake 🌕: @rav3n-pascal22 @maggiemayhemnj @morallyinept @survivingandenduring @bonezone44

@magpiepills @yorksgirl @gemmahale @missredherring @missladym1981

@alltheglitterandtheroar @megamindsecretlair @readingiskeepingmegoing @pedroshotwifey @tinytinymenace

@inept-the-magnificent @vivian-pascal @jessthebaker @pascalsanctuary

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #ezra prospect #Ezra prospect x ofc #pedro pascal #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect fluff #nerdie fic #the lake between us