#ezra prospect imagine

[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

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| 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

[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

[rise-my-angel]

One Last Drink

Pairing: Ezra x Female Reader

Length: 15.8k

Warnings: Angst/hurt comfort, threats of violence, implied threats of abuse, kidnapping, hostage situations, morally ambiguous behavior, possessive behavior, smut, oral (f and m receiving), p in v, rough sex, biting during sex

Notes: This is a bit of a darker Ezra, but most of the trigger warnings are mentioned either in passing, or in implication not directly mentioned. Takes place after the film.

The longer you sat at this bar, the more you felt a growing sense of isolation. Sure not all of your new team members agreed to meet here, but some of them had. Yet it had been an hour and not a word from any of them. Instead it was just you, sitting against the counter mindlessly pulling away the salt decorated at the rim of the glass down onto the napkin it sat on. Occasionally you’d bring it up to take a sip, but the remnants of it still sat too strong in your mouth to enjoy the liquid.

You were starting to think they had invited you out as a joke. The new member of the team, unimportant and even warned most of them would delegate you to grunt work. Keeping inventory, cleaning equipment, only being considered useful when they needed medical attention. You were excited to find a job what took you off world for even a time, but maybe you wished the team you were joining shared your enthusiasm.

The bar was dingy, dark, and very likely not super clean but it also was as good as you get in this kind of area. A docking port nearby, the city centre was usually packed with people coming and going to the point it made you a tad uncomfortable. Even thinking about heading there just to leave for the job made your heart race a tad.

You at first thought they suggested this place because it was quieter and out of the way, a tactic to make you feel welcome, but now you were beginning to wonder if they sent you here, just so they could meet up in the dense sections of the city where you wouldn’t go.

Sure you didn’t know them very well, but it sure felt as if you should know them better then where you stood. Keamy, your team leader had given you the run down of what to expect, what everyone’s jobs were and what to look out for.

Well, who to look out for more specifically.

“Got an easy start, to raiders on this one but if harvest is good enough that I know it, means our competition knows it too.” A few groups were placed in this category, some of which sounded more threatening then others. You were sitting across from his desk, hands together in your lap, back straight while the large man was leaned back in his far more comfortable chair.

One knee over the other and flicking his pen up in the air. “Couple guys give us more grief then others. One dude, ‘bout my size but never shuts the fuck up. Good at tricking people into giving him what he wants, could talk you into bed if you let him.”

You didn’t though, miss the pause as he looked over you with narrowed eyes before glancing away with a disbelieving eye roll. Blood cooling down to a point it send shivers through your limbs, you tried to remember that you needed to cooperate. You didn’t need Keamy to think much of you beyond keeping you on contract.

Flinging his legs onto the ground he stood up, making his way to the makeshift bar sat at one corner of his office. “Usually travels with this big fucker, doesn’t talk. Wouldn’t be surprise if the fucking ogre didn’t know how.”

Watching him round the bar, you saw him flip the cap off some unknown amber liquid before raising it up with an eyebrow as well. Shaking your head no, his already unpleasantly expressed face fell more unimpressed, but relented as he continued. “The others’ll warn you about him but if you ain’t got a gun then most of ‘em will leave you alone. It’s the talkers you got to look out for. Charm a naive little thing like you into an early grave if he can.”

Some of the men he described in appearance, others he had record photos for but it all just melted together in the sea of too much information. Now you were alone and dreading the weeks you would spend alone with those who couldn’t even bother to keep appointment. The rest of the team didn’t appear to be much in the way of enthusiastic either.

Though, you suppose it made sense. Most of you weren’t complete employees of the company hiring you, just individual contractors who need money damned of how. Keamy was the one who had final say and he would set out with the rest of you, but now you already began feeling that dread of wanting to be home. Not one foot set off planet side, yet the dream of coming home already felt heavy in your chest.

Luckily, the bartender seemed to have been content with leaving you alone in your sulking little corner barley making progress on the one drink you slapped your first credits down on. Had it been almost two hours by now? Half an hour? You wouldn’t sleep well tonight, so may as well stick around until you finished the dark green liquid swirling in your glass or you spent so long sulking the bartender kicks you out.

Your communicator in front of you blinking messages that felt too depressing to open. Notifications that of your team confirming when to meet tomorrow evening in the port, another a sad notification from the renters informing you of an interest increase by the time you’d be back. No one wishing you luck, or telling you to be safe or even congratulate you on finding a job that gets you off this dark, dirty rock.

Eyes trained on the foggy liquid, time spent untouched now separating from top to bottom. No doubt needing a mix before attempting even another sip. Seeing no one approach, hearing no one nearby, you only flickered your eyes up briefly to see the bartender nod at someone behind you before turning to make something.

Which was when a warm feeling washed over part of your back and side just as a looming figure obscured your already dim light. A voice drawled deep in your ear, sending another shiver down your spine making you sit up straighter. “Salt’s supposed to take the edge off you know, not get knocked off the edge.”

Not yet turning around, your voice felt heavy with led staring forward. “It’s too much, can’t taste the drink with all that.” Your nerves shivering more as they chuckled deep, just as warm sounding as their close proximity felt.

Moving more into view however, you could see a tall figure slid around to lean his hip against the bar counter, arms crossing his chest. You didn’t look at his face yet, just hiding a little bemused smirk at his tone dropping to something more casual. “Syrup’s all the way at the bottom, jem. Not sure you’re going to taste anything on that next sip leaving it like that.”

Well, he did have a point. Pushing it away with your finger, it nudged barley a centimetre but the liquid sloshed around enough to stir it up slightly. “Probably, yeah.” Your heart beating a tinge fast at the unknown, you braved the move. Turning slightly to the side, you had to look up more to find his face as he stool taller then you.

A broad chest at your biggest sights, shoulders wide with a tee shirt that stretched across his torso up to a thick neck that ended high with scattered facial hair. Some dark, almost black in the lighting, and greys scattered throughout up around plush lips and ending at a coarse moustache beneath a strong well framed nose.

His eyes however, caught you more. Large and wide, the darkness much more prominent swimming in it’s colours then anything else. But flashing behind them was something that felt like intrigue but unsure of whom. Your own, or his. His gaze was intense and unblinking, sending you into a brief worry of how rude you were being.

Moving to stick a hand out, you very quickly felt one hand twitch before forcing the other up. One arm was the same size as the muscular original on the other side, but covered in a smooth metal. Such prosthetic were available, but only the vastly rich usually could afford to have skins artificially grafted onto it and hide it’s origins. Still, it was well made. Certainly someone affording a luxury as that had no normal place in something only the bottom feeders like you could afford.

But regardless, you knew some held offence at shaking with their metal arms so you quickly made sure to not look quite so pathetic so early on top of rude. That plush mouth forming into a delicious smirk he grasped your hand firmly. Trying to appear in control you realized he was not returning the firmness that you were, much unlike Keamy days earlier who all but crushed your hand in his shake.

Nervously you laughed, letting go of him entirely as it slunk back into your lap. Palm resting flat across your thigh as you looked anywhere but those eyes shining with amusement. “Sorry, uhm, force of habit, sorry.”

Oh he chuckled one again, and this time he sounded even closer. His now free hand rested on the counter top right by your glass as he leaned into the top of your head. “Now, now. No need for any of that. I’m not judging someone pretty as you by her lousy grip, we can fix that.”

The deepness in his tone felt like there was something else there but you were in no head space to match words to the dark look penetrating your eyes. “Sorry, did you want something? Or, no, do you want to sit down?”

Smile never quite leaving his lips, he tilted his head in agreement before taking the stool next to you height still intimidating even as he was level with you. “I’d ask if you were around here much, but judging by how long that there,” his hand pointing to the drink, “I’d say you aren’t much of a drinker. So I’ll ask a better question. What’s a pretty jem drinking all alone like this?”

A flush growing inside your chest, you tried to consider he was just a random hoping to pull you into his bed and kick you out just as quick. Wasn’t that what so many novels taught you? If so, why did you still bit your cheek at the word pretty?

Glancing to him and back at nothing once more, you shrugged. “Was supposed to meet some people here, thing’s came up so now I’m-”

“Lying to a new friend about being abandoned.” You whipped over to see his raised brows, almost smug at his assumption. “Little thing like you, probably don’t feel comfortable over in such a bustling city scene so they choose a down trodden locale and ditch you to have far more fun with the other degenerates who crawl about there.”

There was a deep tinge to his accent that you had no clue where it would have come from, but it sounded soothing attached to a slower cadence like his. Your mouth was parted slightly as you swallowed down your embarrassment. “Probably.”

You were not doing a fine job giving as much as you were receiving in conversational skills. But the flutter in your chest might have something to do with that. Not that he seemed to mind. “Well good. Means I get to get nice and close to you instead.”

Just then, the bartender returned with two drinks. One a thin bottle of sorts, the other just a clear liquid that he sat in front of you. Pointing to the green untouched one, “You about done there?”

Mouth opening and closing to find the least offensive way to say yes, the man next to you took the reigns for you. “Not much of a drinker she is, probably not a good way to ease into it either. Just add it onto me.”

Nodding, he turned away with little fuss, you slowly picked the glass up peering into the no smell it gave off. Small sip you deflated at the clear taste of fresh water. Well, more fresh then what normally was available. “Thank you.” Though it did occur to you that not only did you not ask for it, but it was brought over with the man’s own. Turning to him suddenly, you almost jumped in place finding him looking at you still further. “Sorry, I never asked your name.”

“Ezra.”

Smiling somewhat you returned yours, enjoying the sound of it slipping soothingly off his lips before soaking them with a swig of his drink. Just then however, his own communicator went off. Taking a minute to let him check, you quickly put your own into your jacket. A preemptive hope that maybe you indeed found some form of company for the time being.

Turning back, he gave a look of remorse. “Forgive me, just a little bird begging for my attention is all.” A flip switched in your heart at the realization, but it must have shown too clearly on your face as he started to laugh. A metal hand reaching to rest gently on your upper arm. “I do mean little, fear not. Cee’s still getting used to her new school and I’ve gotten nothing but many earfuls about not being around to take her for the weekends.”

Tilting your head genuinely, you could see a fondness in his held back smile that spoke volumes of affection. “Your daughter?”

Another smile, this time attached with it being a long history that was not the time nor place to discuss here. “As good as. She’s under my care now, though I am hesitant to grace such a title onto her without permission. She’s a complicated one.”

For a little bit, you felt like the evening was just as planned. Sitting around at the bar, listening to a stranger open up. Ezra clearly adored the teenager, smiled all the way through the many stories he wove about her person. Apparently he had started her in a school, “Her father hadn’t exactly treated her with the gift of a proper education. So she has a few years of catching up to do.”

She apparently would board for the week, and then go home with Ezra on Friday afternoon to be at home. “Get’s mighty upset when I have to leave for work those days, not that I can blame her. I sure do miss her when she’s gone too.”

Nodding, your fingertips danced along the rim of an empty glass. “It’s probably good for both of you. I don’t mean to overstep anything, I just mean, you said her father was kind of overbearing?”

Ezra’s eyes darkened to something else, but shook away as quick as he could blink. “You could call it that, yes.”

Biting your lip in thought, you treaded slowly. Things unsaid were on the side of painful rather then irritating here but you meant no harm. “Then letting her be at school, have a weekend or two just to hang out be around other kids instead of being dragged along to a job? She probably enjoys herself once she can move past being upset.”

You couldn’t get enough of the gentle smile on his lips thinking about the girl. Claiming not to be her dad, but he sure looked proud like one as he gushed of her accomplishments. “I reckon you’re right, jem.”

Was it hours or mere minutes that passed between then and now? If your sense of time was to be trusted on face value, then it felt as if you went from discussing each other’s little lives like casual strangers to now in seconds.

Ezra’s broad chest pressed up against your back as you stood by the jukebox. The little corner of the building was not well lit, little people coming over for any reason and yet even if they did? The bar was not the kind of place that you suspected looked down on such displays. His hands holding your hips in place just as you went to turn around, the feeling of breath hot on your neck having startled you into a jump.

He chuckled deep into your ear as he ran his nose down the side of your cheek, his metal hand squeezing tighter then the other in a possessive way you couldn’t tell if you liked or not. He certainly seemed to think so. His other one, fingertips rough as they slid just under the bottom of your shirt.

Breath hitching in your throat, eyes fluttering he ran them over the soft skin of your stomach with no shame for the plushness he found. If anything, he only held tighter, pressed closer to the point you could feel his hips press into your ass. The heavy weight of a bulge just enough to boil your blood at how much those jeans must be hiding.

Voice deep and vibrated through your ear down the length of your torso to settle between your legs as it smoothed over you. “We could dance here, but I have it on good authority that my own abode is close by and child free. Could do any kind of dance you and I desire, jem.”

Leaning back into his touch somewhat, you felt him sink his fingertips tracing just over the waist of your pants until you nodded. “Yes, please.”

Inhaling deep through his noise, his jaw clenched at the airy tone of your voice. “I can’t decide if I want to hear you sing with such manners for me more, or fuck it out of you completely.” Shivering in his touch, he seemed to know your answer. “Maybe a bit of both.”

Leaving your stomach to cup your chin, he pulled your head back at an awkward angle, not that he minded. Pressing his lips harshly to yours, your quick gasp had Ezra lick inside your mouth. Forcing you to accept the wet swipe of his tongue against yours as he held you against him as if letting go would send you melting to the floor.

There was a greed in his kiss, a warning that he might not let you go if you grant him more and more of you. But seductive enough to lure you into such a trap willingly. He kissed you like a lover in the dead of night but out for anyone to see. Did he not care, or did he crave others to watch what he had. Sensing your own insecurity however, he pulled away a grin of his lips before pressing a final to your neck.

The city felt nicer with his arm resting on your lower back. Slow strolling to match the paced drawl of an accent you were becoming addicted to. Neither of you in a hurry to get there despite the urgency to leave prior, it was like the calm of night painted something softer in between the frenzy.

He wasn’t wrong, not too far away from the bar was a set of rowed homes, tall stairs leading upwards to the base level ones and off to the side were spiral stairs much higher to the balconies above.

Leading you up such a spiral, Ezra stuck close to you the entire time his hand hovering over your back. Flexing to itself with want to just yank the fabric over your head now, but restrained with a tense jaw. Having to satisfy his eyes just looking over you, planning where to tease you most.

You could feel the gaze, the darkness looming in his eyes behind your sight and forcing your heart to race as you considered what he could have in store. What a tryst like this would be like, one last leap before heading out the next day for who knows when, not knowing if a future even exists once you return.

Not bothering to move you, Ezra just reached around you. Pressing you close to the door as he unlocked it. Eyes looking down your form the entire time. As soon as the lock clicked, he lost the last remaining patience within him. Hand still on the doorknob, he shoved it open and you inside with a noticeable force.

Stepping in, he slammed it behind with another quieter click to trap you both within the heavy bubble between you. He didn’t ambush your lips, but with his hands. Yanking your shirt up, his teeth were gritting, nostrils flared as he looked over your torso, having pulled your bra up as well in his impatience it seemed.

Still not quite at the ready, he next wasted no time in pulling down your pants as well. Almost knocking you over in the process he just took off everything you had throwing it to the side in irritation of it’s very being.

Looking up to you, his dark eyes were nothing but a black you could fall into a trance with. Rising up to his full height, Ezra captured your cheeks in his hands, yanking your mouth back to his and pressing you tight against his chest. His metal one taking advantage of it’s grip, sliding to the back of your neck and keeping you against his mouth, turned to angle you so he loomed over you. Biting hard at your bottom lip, the resulting gasping whine letting him slip his tongue into your mouth once more.

He couldn’t decide it seemed, to taste your mouth with his tongue, or bite at your lips until they pulled and bled. You could already feel the sensitive skin ripping at such a force but you could only hold onto his waist, nails digging into the bare skin his rising shirt granted you access too.

Free arm wrapping around your waist, turning you in place to walk you down the hallway not once letting your lips go free. Skin heating up, you felt as if you were being dragged down into a sauna emminating only from him alone. Hands, as if desperate to cure such temperatures started pulling up on Ezra’s shirt as if his bare skin was your salvation.

In a way it was the complete opposite. The feeling only growing worse and worse, feeding into a hunger that usually didn’t exist with you but here this man was. Biting and licking into your mouth as if to leave his mark for all to see. Hands moving down to grab at his belt, Ezra suddenly yanked you off of him. A trail of saliva trapped between your lips only to snap as he tossed you onto the bed. More like pushed, but the metal arm seemed to hold more strength then one might have assumed.

The bounce and softness underneath almost made you giggle, yet Ezra caught the look in your eye. A raise of his own eyebrow, he slowly moved to undo his belt buckle. Slowly, dark eyes following the path of yours down his chest to a softer stomach that only let you peek at what he had for you underneath.

Swallowing hard, the lump in your throat had you unsure as to where you wanted him first. Sliding up to the foot of the bed you let your legs hand, pressing your palms to the comforter and looking up at him almost innocently. Were it not for the clear lack of clothing.

A grin slowly formed on his face, making sure to take his time pulling his belt open, undoing the zipper millimetre by millimetre. “As much as I’d love this mouth, jem-” his fingers trailed up to pull down at your swollen, and bite littered lips before tilting your chin up to look at him. His other hand pulling his jeans down to reveal the nothing underneath. Not that such a grip on your face let you look down just yet.

“I’d much rather have one last drink.” Leaning down he pushed your knees apart as he settled onto his own. Your heart raced at the broad man moving his head down between your legs, only to flush at how casually he winked at you for such a stare. He focused little on his amusement of you at that point.

Large hands gripping your hips and yanking you to match up to his mouth, it caused you to fall backwards. Bouncing off the mattress with a gasp. He didn’t go right for you. No, he had more to do then taste, he was a biter. And your inner thigh was like leading a harvester to aurelac. No choice, no ability to turn away from such a treasure.

His teeth though, were sharper then on your lips. Crying out instantly, your hands gripped the sheets above you tightly. The sting as he moved from closer to your knee right up before your pussy before running his tongue along the indents. Back arching at the wet trail along such marks only to have no reprieve as he kissed the other knee, and sunk his greedy bite into the fresh thigh. There was no touch, to brushing, no trace along your slit, just a harsh attack on your skin that made him grin into it each time your cries mixed with a whining moan.

You would've felt embarrassed at how wet you were, no hiding the sight from Ezra who kept his eyes trained on every single part between your legs as if a feast were before him. In a way though, of course it was a feast his mouth was watering for it. Finally leaving one last bruising mark so close together, he turned to look at you. His eyes admiring the view before leaning in, pressing his nose against your mound as he inhaled.

Your face burned, covering with your hands at how unashamed he was for such an act. One hand pressing against your clit with his thumb, and his other yanked your hips up to his mouth proper as he licked you from clit to inside of your walls.

There was no preamble with Ezra, no teasing build up for this. No his mouth and tongue licked and tasted as much as he seemed to be physically capable of in a manner that took your breath away. Quite literally, you could feel your lungs shrink, chest tighten and air failing you more and more as he licked inside of you.

The coarse facial hair and moustache rubbed against the highest peak of your inner thighs, scratching red and even leaving such a rough feeling on your cunt itself. He knew what it did, and just as he licked up to your clit, he nuzzled into you like a madman. Burning you more, even on top of two others.

His hands pushing your legs as open as possible and the soreness of bites that would no doubt look like a violent attack to anyone whom would see. Not that anyone but this man would for a long time. His fingertips rubbing and pressing hard and tight circles into your clip had sparks fly inside of you. You may have jumped in his touch were his grip not so iron clad.

A coil inside of you twisted and turned so tightly that you weren’t sure if it was his mouth, or the pain he inflicted before hand. Both was a reasonable answer, yet pain had never been something you could get so worked up from ever before, not even considered. Back arching in pleasure he had the audacity to smirk.

Muffled voice just slow enough to ensure you could hear him, the voice rumbled against you only adding to the sensation. “I said I wanted a drink, jem.” Licking up to your clip you yelped as he nibbled ever so lightly. His movements stopping demanding you look.

Sweating just as you were with his facial hair already covered so much it made you feel ashamed for what he was doing to do. His eyes, were not joking in the slightest. “You don’t get my cock until you cum twice. We’ll be here all night if we have to, but I’m a greed man, jem. You give, I take. Got it?”

It should scare you, such possession should be terrifying and yet you couldn’t fathom the concept. A nod and a pleading, “Yes, anything, anything you want, Ezra. Please,” His eyes didn’t soften, but a smile made it’s way onto his expression in gratitude.

“A good girl with good manners,” leaning back he dove back into your cunt with now both hands holding you tightly at your hips still speaking. But your ears ringing from the pleasure coursing through your veins like wildfire couldn’t hear the words. His mouth was aggressive, if what before was a meal this was a man starving for a will to live found only in the fountain between your legs.

Faster and faster it approached until like a band snapping it hit you straight in the chest how much you needed to cum. Unthinkingly writhing into his face he pulled you into his mouth with another yank but didn’t slow down whatsoever. No, he seemed to want more. He couldn’t be serious about twice you thought.

Oh how you thought, and the impressiveness in how quickly such an idea faded away in his pleasurable touch. The white noise in your brain seemed to overtake you, letting your orgasm flood both your nerves and his mouth but he never let you come up for the air you needed.

No he spoke almost more into your cunt, unable to stop talking to himself singing praise of taste and greed like you were all he required. Did your orgasm stop and rebuild quick, or were you too lost to notice it never stopped until the second one slammed you out of your body.

Two thick fingers rubbing against your clit almost too hard, but he pushed you and took what wetness your orgasm graced his taste buds with. Sweat accumulated on both your bodies, and the blonde streak of his hair stood out as it soaked against the brown curls and clung to his forehead.

You cried out, whines muttering into soft moans until the pant of lungs in need of filling took over what was left. Only then, did his actions slow to gentle licks. Jumping in shock of too much, he ran his hands over your thighs. Letting go of his tight hold and soothing you just above the bites. “Just cleaning you up, jem.”

He pressed a kiss to your clit, making you bite the lip he no doubt tore open and then kissed up your stomach. Ignoring how stilted you became at the location, he pushed on. Up between your breasts only to pause. Eyes glinting like a greedy child, and thus pushing himself up by his palms now on either side of your arms and using such vicious teeth to bite and tug at your nipple. The other breast tightly groped with and dragging out more breathless cries.

Finding any kind of strength to chuckle, you reached down to run your hand through his sweaty hair, nails scratching at his scalp soothingly as you tamed it down. A vibration against your chest came out of him like a growl, pulling his mouth away from your nipple to playfully glare up at you. “You better enjoy that now, jem. ‘Cus I ain’t going to be so generous in a few minutes.”

Your eyes widening as your hand paused mid movement. That glare on his face turned to a sadistic smirk at how innocent your surprise was. Knowing you should be double guessing this encounter, the greed, the roughness, the possessive way he manhandles you, all would be red flags were his voice, touch, skin, mouth, cock all addictive like the substance so many of your profession rely on.

Could you just bring him with you, and there would be every vice you could need. Ezra you suspect, would willingly give it too. Nothing but stinging, sore marks on your body covered by his saliva and the Green would be ever pleasant in comparison to the tole he so pleasurably takes.

And take did he ever. Before you could lose yourself to such thoughts, Ezra had flipped you over onto your stomach. Taking the air out of your lungs as he did so. With his own grunt, he then yanked up your hips pressing you right back up against his cock. You couldn’t even remember at this point if he had always been naked or if you were just falling so deeply out of it.

You couldn’t see from your position, face pressed into the soft sheets as you turned to the side trying to gasp for breath but you sure felt the thickness slide between your legs. Running along your soaked entrance, it felt as if his cock went on forever. Heavy between you, no doubt his size would be intimidating had he let you see it for yourself.

But Ezra was far to preoccupied running his length along you, soaking him while teasing pushing him each time his head barley pushed in before leaving once more. His voice was rough, shattered as if words were being forced through gritted teeth. “Arms above you,” complying, you slid your hands up the sheets until the were stretched just under his pillows. “Hold onto something, jem.”

He gave little warning off anything else, just the right amount of time for your hands to fist the sheets under them before your body jolted forward. His cock sliding inside of you, sinking as deep as he could in one rough thrust as you gasped loudly.

The stretch was something else, a burn that you could be feeling for long after even if things ended right now. Two strong hands at your hips kept you pressed in place for mere seconds before he decided he was unable to wait.

Thrusting with a rough intensity you couldn’t tell if it was pleasure or pain he was giving you, nor did you know if you truly cared. There was a firestorm in your blood that flowed through your limbs and made everything tighten and constrict inside you. His cock running right along a sensitive wall inside you had you crying out. Barley moans, or even whines, but gasps and shock at how hard his cock both fucked into you and the force of your ass being slammed against his hips.

You could barley hear Ezra over the sound of your skin slapping against one another, something you imagined the entire street must be able to hear along with your cries. His cock slid so deep and barley even tried to pull out much. Little by little Ezra tried pulling back more but just to yank you back onto his cock even harder.

Tears welling up in your eyes, nails digging so hard into his sheets they could have ripped. His metal hand left your hip and ran along the length of your spine until they reached the back of your neck with a bunch of your hair now in his grasp. Pulling it back you definitely whined as he pulled right as he did the same with your hips.

His cock a relentless roughness inside of you, neither of you sure if it was just how wet you were, or a mix with how much precum he already had been leaking that made it so slick. Ezra knew from his own sight that his cock was covered in both, and a pride that he made you so wet that someone of his girth could fit so well inside of you.

Squeezing him tightly, you either just barley could handle him or maybe it was a fit crafted by the powers above. A message that the only place worthy of you, is his cock. Thrusting hard, his hand either pulled your hair or pushed his palm against the back of your head to brace himself as he swore.

He shouldn’t be so close, but you were close and it just drove him towards that creeping edge. You tightened and clenched around him with barley any words capable of coming out of your mouth beyond begs of his name. He had to fuck you harder, just to get as deep.

Like a slap to the face, so did your orgasm hit you from nothing. Creeping up in an instant, a tightening inside you snapped and attacked every inch of your nerves. White noise both in your ears and in your veins had those tears fall freely along with moaning cries that never stopped.

He kept fucking you, no change in pace in fact just a tad faster yet as hard as before. Before the shocks of your orgasm even simmered in your body, Ezra pushed you down into the mattress, his body heavy draped across your back as he moved to leave your hair and wrap it around your lower stomach and press his palm heavy into you.

His cock pounding hard, much more shallow but with a pace that filled the room with such an obscene sound it made Ezra clench his jaw before biting down to your neck with grunts. “All mine, gorgeous cunt made just for me. Right, jem?”

What were you agreeing too? You didn’t know, just nod and let his fucking careen you right back towards another orgasm. The pressure of his cock so deep and his hand pressing at your lower stomach multiplied the electricity stabbing at you.

Ezra kissed and licked your neck up until he took your ear into his teeth. Words panting hot from his mouth, higher in pitch and more breathless the more sporadic his thrusts became. “Let me paint you, jem. Mark you with my name, sign yourself and this beautiful cunt over to me.”

Pressing his head against yours, you nodded barley. “Yes, please.”

Just as your final orgasm flooded your body like water rushing forth, Ezra pulled his cock out as he throbbed inside of your walls. Almost too late, some of his cum spilling inside of you before most of it spreading out on your ass and lower back.

Your own orgasm had you laying in wait, boneless as it took whatever energy was left in you and replaced it with an addictive pleasure that left you foggy. You could feel Ezra press his cock between the cheeks of your ass, almost running through them like he did the walls of your cunt. Spreading his cum as much as he could, hand leaving your hip to run across his work and paint you to his ownership.

It was much later when you properly came back to yourself. Body sore, and covered in cum from your tits to your thighs you weren’t sure how many times Ezra fucked you after that. You dropped pretty hard, all you knew or felt, or saw was Ezra and that’s all you needed.

Now, the nightlife outside was likely dead, and finally creeping your eyes open you saw Ezra also under the sheets, facing you with a hang on your hip gently. Reaching up you tenderly ran your fingers over his facial hair, thumb tracing his cheek as you did so.

He had insisted you sleep tucked warm in his arms, a kiss that you’d only ever read between the words of chaste lovers pressed to your lips as he cradled the side of your face. For everything, you looked at him and smiled. Something about the man left you unwilling to see danger others like him presented, and an affection that begged you to take more of.

You did however, need to use the washroom. Very slowly, at first not to wake him up, but also the only speed the immense ache in your muscles could work past. A dash of luck on your side, instead of reaching out and forcing you with him, Ezra just grumbled. His brows narrowing in annoyance even in sleep. His hand on your hip just sliding to press down on the bed where you just were and scrunching the sheets up in his fist.

You had to leave tomorrow night, but as you left the washroom whatever plans you had about what was to be of you and his man were shattered. It was an accident, honestly. Your hip had accidentally knocked over papers precariously balanced on top of a thin cupboard.

What you felt as you bent down to look at them, was how much of an idiot you truly were. The name, the appearance, both markers you were told but never considered. Not until you saw work permits, forms, and statements of his employs before now.

He was one of the prospectors Keamy specifically had warned you about. One he called dangerous, and unstable willing to do and take whatever he wanted. Your team leader looked you right in the eye and told you that should you encounter him, to leave the confrontation to them. Not to get anywhere near such a snake.

Heart beating much faster the normal in your chest, you felt like a traitor. Ezra didn’t tell you what he did outright but maybe the signs were there and in such a naive state of temptation you were too enamoured with the intensity he doted on you with.

You didn’t pick them up, or even do anything. You knelt there for a moment before whipping your head to look a the man still slumbering. Such a peaceful expression past the tenseness. Soft features that had run over you skin and lips with reverence now mocking you for not recognizing them as what was described to you as the enemy.

Scrambling to gather your clothes, you only put them on as you left the bedroom. Going through the pitch blackness of his home until you reached the front door.

Tinge of guilt hit you, but looking at at the door, you also realized the second way in which you should be embarrassed. He picked you up at a seedy bar. In what world would such a strong, handsome, brazen man want anything to do with the likes of you beyond what you could do for his cock.

He got that, and if what Keamy said about such a person was correct, he wouldn’t even want you here when we wakes up anyways. It was a fight not to let the tears hit you, but once you got home and into the shower, you could pretend such tears were such strands of shower water already hitting your skin.

Letting what remained of your naive stupidity wash down the drain before skipping everything about sleep or routine. You packed for departure, and by the time the rest of the team got to the port you had long since been waiting.

Just the foolish romances of a stupid girl trying to be replaced by the determined tenacity of a member of this team rearing to go. You thought of Ezra as the main ship took off, the muscles on your body ached and the burn between your legs still sparking you with the phantom thickness of his cock.

Even if he wouldn’t remember you past that night, you still thought of him.

The air in this place wasn’t toxic, but it sure wasn’t what you’d refer to as breathable. Oxygen masks covering all of you, it took a few tries to match voice to face. As you predicted, the team mostly knew each other already. Jokes, rough housing in off times, inside comments that you weren’t privy to, but you also sure weren’t welcome to be part of it.

You kept inventory, did their grunt run around work, patched them up when asked but you for the most part were stuck in the back. Watching them engage in their spoils both in harvest and after. Night’s were usually quiet for you but now it was a constant fest of testosterone that felt more braggadocios then it warranted.

“Mutt, you want to get your head out of your ass and re wrap this?” Head whipping up from the notebook in your hands, Faraday stood a few feet away raising his bicep up to you. Your nickname was far from welcoming, having been accidentally tripped on the day landed day and landing in a mud pit leaving you looking like a stray mutt according to the team.

You questioned whether any of them remembered you even had a first name, but silently nodded as you knelt down to stash the notebook away in your pack before swapping it for your field kit. It had been weeks on this little moon and you were starting to get used to it’s heavy air.

Having to stop and refill your oxygen filters more often then not simply due to how much you had to breathe in to keep up. Keamy had assured suits would not be necessary, but you’d take a suit right now over these masks. You couldn’t see through them and half of the men on this team looked like each other.

Faraday didn’t even glance at you while you worked. Uncaring of the slow, gentle movements of your fingers and feather light prodding at the cut to ensure it wasn’t infected before replacing it with a clean one. You asked him to wear long sleeves to make it harder for dirt to get in, but you didn’t have a voice beyond “Yes, sir.”

To your luck however, the current onslaught of behaviours around you had thoroughly distracted you from that night. Keamy had presented himself as stern but reasonable, but now working at his side you see the truth. He is ruthless, emotionless, and comes close to using violence anytime his calm disposition didn’t scare you into silence. You could only imagine what he would do finding out that the weakest link slept with someone whom you know understood was someone he truly hated.

Night’s spent telling stories of past incidents with other prospectors and Keamy had enough about Ezra to fill any normal person with nightmares for years. Though, it did feel on the air of hypocritical, considering on some planets Keamys stories of his own would have him considered a war criminal, but hey he stood behind the title of mercenary. He excused much horror under that title.

Faraday strode off as soon as you were finished, leaving you amongst much of the gear to pack away while he ran over to a few of the others to do whatever they did while you did your job. On the bright side, at least you had time to yourself to look at the beauty of such a planet.

The heat bearing down making your hair accumulate so much sweat it poured down your face, soaking the strands like a shower head as you worked. You considered stopping to put your hair up, but with both your hands encasing the various jems collected in their proper storage it was just something you’d have to live with.

A far cry from weeks ago when you felt such euphoria that time seemed to stop in the dead of night.

What even was there to say about your work? A lack of interaction, feeling constantly out of breathe and covered in grime and each night having to spend an unusual amount of time in the set up shower just to accomodate the marks between your thighs. Washing around the stinging teeth marks unsure if you wanted them to just disappear already or preserve them for the only glint of joy you had in years.

You were a mess, in more then just skin deep. How on earth did one night that meant nothing to the other party leave you scattered and dreaming of that night as if it could or would ever happen again.

If Ezra was anything like Keamy, you were just a commodity to get off with. That’s it. Hell, you had been suspecting none of these men on your team even said or looked at you in such a way because you were just unattractive enough to not be worth the effort.

Ezra must have been in a real dry spell to settle for you. Even those who speak of women like they are nagging flesh lights can’t be bothered to look your way in a gross manner.

Not that you wanted it, but it sure made you feel like a child with a silly fantasy for wishing Ezra’s painful bite marks on your thighs would stay forever.

However many days later it was, you were once again off to the side. Refilling your field kit before heading out for the day as the others already masked up, gathering their plan outside the stuffy air of the tented enclosure. You didn’t even bother putting on your comm yet, it was too early in the day to hear them talk about whatever massacre they enwrathed on others years prior. You could not care less about this group the longer you went.

The world outside muffled as you meticulously organized everything. You took pride in how detailed you were, even if just for personal gratification. If you were so needed, Keamy would just slam his fist on the bar right outside the main entrance and shout at you.

Maybe, you should have paid closer attention just this once. Fluttering back and forth putting your things in your pack, scribbling on your notebook before tossing that in as well and securing your mask all in the span in took for whatever occurred out side the tent walls to escalate.

By the time anything came upon you, it was a shock unprepared for. Stepping out into the sunlight, you saw your team split between two spots. Three of them stood off to the side, hands raised, and one stray laid out many feet ahead of you in the path to a lush grove. Blood pooling by his middle far too much to be helped, but it wasn’t just such a sight that made you gasp.

Pulled back against a large figure and knife pulled up to your throat and a shockingly strong arm wrapped around your front, restricting your arms from rising to high in retaliation. The figure leaned down close to you ear, voice slightly more ting sounding from the shift of a communicator, but not one you had so easily forgotten.

“Now I may ask, what is a fine jem such as this doing with a group of mercs like yourself?” His voice and face so close to your ear, but dark eyes trained on Keamy’s whose blazed back in anger. It was only with the shift of Faraday beside him did you realize a man behind them with a thrower. Tallish with dark hair that was just as sweat filled as most others on this heat ridden rock, but nothing else which stood out.

Keamy was the only one allowed to talk, or perhaps just the only one in a position to talk back. “Just doing my job, Ezra. Like you. Or better I guess. Nice arm.”

It was possible he felt you stiffen uncomfortably in his hold. An odd thing to get offended on someone elses behalf given the situation. His chuckle though, was not the same one you heard many times so playfully in your ear that night. No this was hollow, devoid of feeling leaving just dust and rage in it’s path behind. “Gained a lot worth more than an arm that day. More then this lot has. Hauls not so impressive for how many of you there is. One might think jems aren’t what you’re here for, is it?”

His arm tightened around your front, keeping you close to both his chest and his blade to your neck. It didn’t press, but you felt it graze only when shifting around yourself. Keamy glared at him, “You holding my medic hostage because you think she’s worth that to me, or you just that desperate now that you’ve become a freak?”

In an instant, you tried to hold back a gasp as his hands switched. The blade now pressing between your breasts, placed so perfectly that enough of a good shove would slid it through the fabric and into the skin smoothly. His metal hand, now reached up grasping you by your throat, his head leaning over your shoulder but you stood still, too afraid to look anywhere but forward at the body far off.

Shivers shot down your spine as Ezra pressed the blade just enough that it scraped against your chest. A tiny tear right down the middle exposing the skin visible through the cut. “Now Keamy, I don’t have all day to play with you. I have much more important things to tend to,” the tip of the blade now running up and down the sliver of exposed skin. Only pressured to that of a scratched nail. “But I do find myself eager to indulge in a bit of pay back for the last time. Led to me becoming a freak afterall, didn’t it?”

Keamy, was quick to throw away an accusation you didn’t quite understand. “I didn’t do shit. You fucked up, so we fucked off. Anything that happened after that was your own damn fault.”

The thumb of Ezra’s metal hand traced over the very middle of your neck, unknowingly producing a grin at how hard you swallowed and shook at the motion. His eyes still didn’t go to you though, no you were too well behaved to run and you think he knew it. Just kept you hostage. “If I am to recall, you were the one making an awful fuss over trivial matters and I was unceremoniously kicked away for calling you out on it.”

Not enough of his body moved to have the men see, but Ezra very slightly pressed his hips to your ass with more pressure. His grip on your neck tightening at the whine wanting to come out of your mouth, and how little you understood where it came from. “I did come out on top now didn’t I? Aurelac, a nice new arm, and a life waiting for me out there. What spoils have you engaged in, Keamy? A low brow dancer only giving you the time of day because your stupid enough to let her overcharge you?”

Both eyes looked to him wide, and Keamy’s entire face twitched. Leaving it in a position that resembled a little too much like some wild feral creature. “Get to the fucking point. What do you want?”

If they heard the smile, they said nothing. But you did. “What you owe me, that’s all I want.”

The silence was deafening in the pause it took the man to contemplate. A silence broken by a snap of a bolt landing directly into Faraday’s head coming through the front of an eye. The hand on your throat sliding up to cover the scream no doubt wanting to come out. A deep shush vibrating in your chest as he consoled you like one would an animal. “Fear not, jem.”

How that was even possible you didn’t know. Nor would you tell him. And yet the touch now covering your mouth slid from claustrophobic to calm in a manner of seconds. Sparing such a glance you felt brave enough to peek, and there they were. Brown eyes dark and full of an unreadable danger, only to flicker to you with a different kind of flash not so volatile. A glint in them radiated at your own wide ones, before glancing much more casually up to your team.

“Here is the deal, I’ll be taking my share of the last job as what was owed, then I’ll walk in the other direction and we leave that mess behind us.” The other man glared over to Ezra who paid him no mind.

Keamy’s glare was harder. “What’s to stop me from shooting you the second you turn around?”

Pulling you closer to him, Ezra leaned close to your face. Should a mask not be there, you’d be able to feel his strong nose trace down the length of your cheek, and the bristle of facial hair that burns in it’s scratch. “You shoot me, I gut her. Bad business letting a fellow harvester murk one of your teams medics.”

Heart pounding in your chest, it was impossible to know if that was true. His greedy touch suggested not, but his words laced with venom spoke threat. Keamy, nodded though. Little care for anything which could get in the way of his own success, even if that was a temporary sacrifice.

His hand slid down finally, away from your mouth and back soothingly over your throat with a more gentle grip. “Now, we’ll be going one way. My companion here shall collect the payment and we’ll be on our way.”

Your head jerked to look at him, but he gripped tighter, a single barley audible shush leaving his lips as he did so. “Fellas.”

No speaking was done from any party as Ezra led you away, a knife still pointed at you despite the known truth between both that you would do nothing to tempt his temper. In fact no words were shared until the sight of a much smaller tent enclosure came into view. It felt so near to your own that a coincidence did not sit well in the put of your gut.

As you assumed the team dropped from view, so did the blade to your chest. Instead, sheathing the weapon to the guide you by your hip in quiet. Much like Ezra preferred to speak to your face then through a communicator, at least for you specifically. Like if he couldn’t spill forth temptation what was the point of wasting the difficult breath?

Stopping in front of the entrance, Ezra looked at you firmly. “If I let you go, jem, you going to run?” Once more you heard the smirk on his face at how diligently you shook your head no. “Good girl.”

Leaving your throat he opened it up to you, nudging you inside with a bump of his hip into your ass and one hand closing it behind both your figures.

The room looked much like the one you were in but smaller. A little entrance way serving as prep and storage and just ahead of it two cots one messy, one done neatly. Ahead a little pathway that served as a kitchenette one side and a little table the other with the shoddiest of stools you’ve seen and finally a simple washroom hidden by the end door.

Looking over with an eyebrow raised, Ezra yanked his mask off. Reaching for his belt he undid the filter hold with a grunt and tossed it to the side. Your body doing it’s best to pretend as if him reaching for that area in such a manner did nothing to your insides. He turned to you, hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead and his eyes a little more ragged then you once saw.

Pointing to your mask with a smirk, “You’re welcome to remove that.”

Hands hesitantly rising, they paused mid air to watch him move about normal as could be. Resting weapons right out in plain sight you swore to yourself for being such a coward. Worse, a coward who couldn’t hold her own in a fight even if death was the only other outcome. Allowing the journey to continue, you very carefully undid your mask and detached your filter.

Turning back and forth in place seeking a place to rest it, you sat it down beside where Ezra put his own on top of a storage crate much neater then his was thrown about. You wondered briefly if the messy bed was his, and heart chiding you for even caring.

Your hands remained wrung together in front of your chest as you turned to watch him. Like nothing was wrong, he moved about the food supply searching for something as if there was nothing of note about such a situation. Your voice small as it cracked out in the quiet. “What are you going to do with me?”

Turning his head, Ezra’s eyes were narrowed as if offended yet confused. “Right now, I intend on finding us something to drink. Lose a lot of water in this kind of heat, jem.”

He was so normal that it wasn’t normal. And you suspected that he was fully aware of such a fact yet didn’t move to ease your head whatsoever. Just pouring what looked like a filter of water into two cups and moved them both over to the table Sitting one down at the seat across from him and waving you over as he took his own seat.

Baby steps with your nails digging into the other, you eyed his aloof disposition. It reminded you of how casual he was that night at the bar. Just a handsome stranger looking for some company. His eyes squinted in thought as you sat down very slowly. Pulling your cup close and looking into it with a tensity in your veins.

“You watched me pour from the same filter, I assure you I have no intention of drugging myself just to make a point.” Biting your lip at such words, your nails rung against the cheap metal as if pointing to the other possibility.

Ezra, with a bit of a cheeky smirk trying to hide itself, leaned over the small table, taking a sip from your own and putting it back down without breaking eye contact. Deep sigh making it’s way out of your chest, your lips parted as you raised it for yourself. Pausing as you looked to his calm, unblinking expression take a sip from his own barley moving an inch.

The water did indeed, feel soothing on the back of your throat. Your first small sip turned into going back to down half of the drink in one fell swoop before dropping the cup on the table. Sighing much more relieved your eyes slid shut for just a second before reminding yourself of where you were sat.

Jolting in place, you yanked your hands down to your lap away. The absurdity that he could do anything less to you should he be able to what? Touch your hands easier? You knew without a shadow of doubt that he could overpower you so what did you even think was your defence. “Please don’t tell me it’s just a coincidence that you’re here, I don’t uh, don’t really think I could believe that.”

Brown eyes still squinting at you, he relents with a shrug and went for another sip. Twisting his body so he leaned back more comfortably, his legs spread out in front of him with his free arm resting atop the chair back. Hand like yours did, using his nails to tap at the cheap metal of the cup. “Alright, then I won’t.”

You hated that he just played the game. Sat in content quiet, letting you stew in the worst of outcomes or possibilities until you broke first. Which, you did. “Ezra-”

Oh to be such a snake, waiting for you to utter the first words only to interject overtop your voice. Not even looking at you, but around the small room glowed in an orange light. “Would it make you feel better to say I followed you here, or would it sound more poetic should I say I’ve followed you for far longer.”

Blood freezing in your veins you felt the limbs stiffening like a turn to stone. Eyes wide on his profile, you despised that it was his elegant nose and plush lips that you found your own eyes drifting towards unconsciously. Even when you did, still you did not look away and you had no clue what that was saying about you. “Did you?”

The plush lips now forming into a grin, his eyes crinkled with the movement in a manner once endearing to you. Now just filled with an unknown dread. “If you haven’t figure it out, jem. I’m not a man who chases.” Turning his head to look at you, the playful smile was there but a darkness fogging in his eyes that had you continue to form a statue in your body. “I’m one who takes.”

That he was. You had many questions yet none the answers that felt safe to hear. You wanted to just go home, back to your quiet life of nothing, hop from job to job, moon to moon and be forgotten by its faces just as easy. Your nails started to dig deeper into the skin of your hands, pain slowly replacing the sensation of pressure yet you pushed on.

As did Ezra, but for words. “I presume at this point, you understand what kind of person men like Keamy are. I do such things for myself. To survive to claim what belongs to me, not out of some twisted sense of joy.”

You weren’t sure if it was you that was shaking or just your insides. “What about me?”

Ezra however, did not let such a sinister feeling bloom on his face. No, rather the sight of a fallen guilt it seemed came over him. Chucking down the rest of his drink, he stood up. Pacing to the other side of the room before turning back to stare at a nothing on the floor. Hands on his hips, his lips pursed in thought. “Why did you leave that night?”

He still didn’t look at you, but his eyes were felt on you nonetheless. A compelling force wrapping it’s tendrils around the truth and gently pulling them up your throat and into the air rather then a desperate lie. “I didn’t recognize you until I accidentally saw some of your papers.” His eyes peered up at you but didn’t commit to facing you fully. “Keamy gave me the rundown of people that were supposed to be competition, and I just....panicked.”

“Panicked how.”

That roughness in his tone radiated through your heart, like a bar twisted and broken ready to snap at the slightest of provocation. You didn’t quite jump in your seat, but your heart did in your chest. Voice high and quick, defensive without offence to balance. “I thought I’d get in trouble if Keamy found out and-” You cut yourself off, but Ezra didn’t appreciate it.

Pacing over to you, he stood barley two feet from your own looking down as he now crossed his arms over his broad chest. Just a raise of one eyebrow.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you felt your eyes sting like a pathetic child. “And I didn’t think you’d want me around when you woke up anyways.” You didn’t look up to see the flames and anger in his eyes, nor did he speak to show you. So you kept going. “I’m not exactly a catch, and I mean- that’s fine, it’s whatever. Easy night for someone like you, but I didn’t think-”

“Didn’t think what? That I wouldn’t want to wake up with you in my bed to repeat that night all over again?” Eyes wide once again but you dared not look. He knelt very slowly to meet your eye level but had yet to take over your gaze. “I got a girl to take care of, jem. I didn’t bring you to my home just to kick you out the next morning. Not after all we did.”

Face flushing with either embarrassment or something a little warmer, only felt heated that much more as Ezra turned your face to look at him. Two fingers on your cheek firmly before dropping down as you looked at his inquisitive stare. “I just-”

Shaking his head there was a twisted pout present. “No. I don’t care what you were worried about, I care that you ran from me after letting me have all of you. That’s cruelty, jem.””

He was angry and dark, but eyes spoke of a distance that felt much more like longing. “I- I’m sorry.”

He kidnapped you, and you were apologizing. What sense were you truly making here?

Ezra nodded a few times, mostly it appeared, to himself. “Well, I have some things which require my attention. How about you head back there,” nodding over to the back room, “And alleviate yourself of the stink of today’s confrontation?”

Were your nerves not shocked to high alert, you might have smiled at the odd manner which he spoke in. Something that seemed to so hilariously blend between painfully normal, to aggressive and spitting and circle down to enticing and otherworldly. But the world currently spoke to you in anxiety, and your tongue remained stagnant. So your head did the speaking for you.

You didn’t really remember your time under the warmth of the shower. So often your turns were forgotten and there was nothing left in the water heater to sooth you. So your cool showers turned cold halfway through and left you scrambling to finish as quick as could be.

Ezra’s however was warm the whole time. No seconds in between turning from warm to hot even. A small group clearly having some perks over the swiftness of larger ones. Face having water pouring down on it, your thoughts dripped away with the water leaving your heart blank and your head empty.

Perhaps it was the only thing you could do. Let the possibilities die, so that whatever actual future he is holding over you cannot come as the worst case scenario. If there is no scenario then nothing can be worse. It was a long time before you emerged.

If you were thankful for one thing, it was Ezra’s courtesy to allow you however long you needed to pull yourself together. You should feel exposed, bare in this room for anyone to come in and attack, but should you be brave enough to glance down, you’d see between your thighs.

The bite marks still bruised into your skin at his deceleration of possession. He had been worse with you then then now, even though you were willing for those previous. Did you make any sense in your considerations or was that the confusion he was hoping to trick into you? Make you more compliant if you had no idea what to do or feel? Well it was working.

Even as you carefully pulled your clothes back on, nothing about your time in the shower gave you an answer, hope, prayer or even concept of a plan. You just had to hope that should the worst possibility be death, he wasn’t so cruel as to force it to elongate.

Stepping out, you saw Ezra organizing things on the previously neat side of the room. A travel pack with scattered items, used and new as he gently placed everything needed much like one of your own did before departing for such moons like this. He was at ease himself, shoulders light, hair now drying out leaving it thick and fluffy like you recalled. The perfect volume to run your fingers through, and even now the phantom curls raked through your skin like a ghost.

On the bed as well as a few stacks of what looked like basic clothes, and a refilled air filter. Looking up at you, he smiled wide. “Come here,” Nodding you over with a tilt of his head, Ezra continued to pack.

Your steps felt a bit easier knowing he was still not showing you the kind of terse aggression he had been displaying towards the rest of your own crew. If this was a long ploy, you were playing right into it but maybe for the sake of your heart? That was alright for now.

Coming up to a few feet away, Ezra paid no mind to the surprised yelp in your chest as he yanked you to stand pressed right up against his side. His warmth so much more prominent as the cool air hit your still wet skin. “I want you to look everything over, and tell me if there’s anything more you need.”

Eyes now flying up to his face, your lips parted in question and his brows narrowed in confusion towards yours. “For what?”

Looking playfully taken aback for a moment, his voice was once more low and drawled out. “You didn’t think we were going to stay here forever, did you, jem?” When you didn’t move, he leaned in to you, voice a whisper as he pointed over your shoulder. “That ain’t a bed I’m willing to take you on more then a few times. Got a testy back, jem.”

A wink and a hand sliding across your lower back you only froze. “You don’t think I’ll try to run?”

You didn’t dare turn to face him, but he sure was to you. His brown eyes boring into your back and his voice tight as if his jaw was clenched to the point it could snap. “You care about those vultures so much, you’re willing to run back into their arms? Knowing they’d leave you behind with me in a heartbeat? That is if they haven’t left already.”

Don't turn around. Do not let him see the tears welling up with impressive speed. “You kidna-”

He was sharp enough to make you jump at the cut of his tone. “I took what I care about away from what doesn’t. You wouldn’t have gotten naked in my shower if you trusted me so little.”

He sounded offended, and were you to turn around that hurt would also display on his face. Sharp looks now soft and longing with a loneliness. And you were just weak enough to fold should you fall into such a soulful trap.

He sounded a little far away, closer to the direction of the main entrance as shuffling movements added to the mix. “Cry, scream, run away if you want. But when I come back, I’m not letting you go, jem. Know that.”

The sound of the enclosure opening before sealing you inside with it’s quiet hum filled you. He left you alone with what you needed to run. So...why weren’t you? Why did you stand there, unable to find even a thought to focus your efforts on? He wouldn’t let you go when he came back and told you to leave before he does so.

But the bites between your legs stung. Whispered like a creature dangling on your shoulder as a guide, and your eyes fluttered shut at how much you screamed at the worst bites of them and yet how much it also made you gush. You hated that you stood like a fool, reliving the feeling of his cock stretching you to the point it was uncomfortable and yet that memory appealed to you more then running in the Green to a team who didn’t fight for you.

It all happened so fast, before you truly even were awake. At some point you had sat down on the edge of the cot, bag sitting on the ground in front of you as you contemplated what would be your fate either choice. At some point your eyes drew heavy, struggling to keep them open as your body filled it’s space with lead. Weighing you down and dragging you conscious mind into the black depth’s along with it.

You dreamt of nothing, or at least nothing that you’d consider important. Just a sweep of images that acted to distract what could be an impending nightmare, and for that you were thankful. At some point, you heard a voice but your dream gave it no thought.

A darkened whisper that felt hovering over you, and a musky wind drenching your face and forced something from your throat that could overpower it. But nothing came, and the dream felt like a figure blocked it’s sun as the deepest part of your mind struggled to climb out of sleep.

A tightening in your chest and muscles flexing as if a fight stood before you, but nothing connected together in such a state. Your legs, the arms, finally as if a burning grip on your jaw as the wind whirled almost in your mouth you could taste it’s toxicity. That wind spoke to you in words not comprehended, until your mind scurried out of the dream enough for your eyes to flutter.

And the strange ghosts across your standing figure now a jolt of pressure. One that send you flying back into the ground behind you and the insane your head slammed into the hard surface did you find your eyes torn open from such a pressure on your physical form.

Laying down you barley registered a figure on top of you like dead weight, but you did see the blood in your vision and it’s wetness scattered across your face as the sight came into clear. Before you could let out a shout in shock, the weight was pulled off you with a snarling sound.

Scrambling up once freed, you sat up with your palms hoisting your upper body to see Ezra yanking another person onto the ground and kicking him over with a fierce press of his boot.

Your voice felt pained, like dry wall scraped the walls of your throat and choked you from any depth in tone. Your scream was really a scratched gasp, a large chunk of the mans head missing as Ezra stood above with some kind of tool drenched in the red missing from the man.

Looking between them, you recognized it as the partner he travelled with. The one who stayed back to handle your crew as you were whisked away from and to things you didn’t understand. Ezra tossed the object to the side before looking over to you.

His chest heaving, nostrils flared with eyes doused in anger. But just as he found your confused and frightened ones did he lighten his. Coming down to cup your face in his hands, they felt rough in their touch but it soothed you for whatever reason. His body knelt to the ground as he looked over the blood that luckily, was not yours. “I told you to go, jem. Gave you everything you needed to return to your crew, and yet here you are in a mans bed that’s not my own.”

Breath caught in your throat you couldn’t move even if the fear left your frozen position. Ezra’s grip tightened as you tried to look over to the body once more, keeping you nowhere but his own.

“You’re lucky I came upon you when I did, kevva knows what he would have done without me to come across it.” Not letting you go, he kept you still to look over you finding nothing out of place or there which wasn’t put by him. “Stay here.”

Your body flinched only as he let you go, eyes now nowhere to look but the figure on the ground and the sudden parallelization of what might have just occurred, or about to. Before you could move closer to the edge of the bed, Ezra returned, a cloth in hand damp in appearance.

His touch was much more gentle this time, cleaning you of any blood. Breathing harshly in your face, his was not a wind that choked you but a gentle breeze that calmed you out of it’s care. It simmered the twisting in your head that you didn’t understand, even though why it did so also was something you didn’t understand.

Ezra spoke to you low, controlled in a way that spoke of how much effort was being put into his gentle touch to your face and jaw, cleaning without scaring you. “I’m going to get rid of it, then, we’re going to talk.”

No wait for an answer, no room for question. Just cleaned you off, then immediately moved to drag the fresh corpse out before it could rot the sensitive air you breathed. He took a long time. Long enough that once your heart settled back in your chest, you managed to stand on two feet.

It wasn’t so much exploring, as it was familiarizing yourself with the limited surroundings. Glancing at tools, and papers, and the minimal possessions brought with him. On his bed were three things which caught attention.

One you recognized, one you didn’t. The one you didn’t was unlocked. Peeking in a goldish glow flowed out of it’s light. Shining with aurelac in a modest abundance. The other, looked much like his, but larger and it was the one you knew too well.

Mindlessly shutting the smaller case, you pulled the bigger one to where you stood. Turning it on it’s side you looked down at the combination lock yet to be solved. Still in the same numbered order it was in when you closed it previously. Payment he said.

Something about ending a job with them badly and demanding payment, slowly you opened the lock up and suspicions confirmed. The entire lot gathered from your team. Something Keamy would not give up willingly, but it didn’t make sense. Why would he steal you away, then more payment then he needs?

Gently letting the lid of the case fall back down, your brows furrowed as you couldn’t quite put the pieces together of a game you had no hints for. The third object was easily identifiable but the most unusual.

It looked like a notebook. Lovingly worn and torn, you very slowly flipped the pages open to see hand written scribbles. The writing rather pretty for a man such as Ezra, and yet the words were quite good.

An elegant style that shined much personality and emotion. Names and tales of a story you didn’t know, this looked like a novel, or the makings of one. It was long, the early pages more passed over then the latter. Clearly a project long worked towards.

You could hear Ezra approach, but your eyes and brain were trapped. Fingertips gently holding the pages open as you read the lines over. His warmth and even scent something that wasn’t unfamiliar and for once so far, his closeness did not startle you. Nor did his voice, but it also wasn’t the anger or harsh manipulation of before.

“It’s Cee’s favourite book. Well, sort of.” Neither of you looked away from the pages, your eyes of curiosity his of fondness. “Without a copy of her own, she started writing what she remembered of it. Adding new things, characters, conversations what it would be like for her to be there with them along with it. Really made it her own.”

His fingers brushed yours, his torso leaned into you as he placed himself closer to see the words. “She found a copy of the real thing at her school, but they won’t let her have it. Kevva forgive a teenage girl takes something like a book home to cherish more then a dusty shelf.”

Shrugging, he pulled away. Looking at your distant face with his hands on his hips as he kept going. “I told her I’d love to read it, but for now, her own version is doing just fine in my eyes.”

Ask, your brain told you. Ask about the case, why he has all of your crews jems, what is to happen to you. You did none of it. “I never wrote anything near this long when I was her age.”

Moving in front of you, Ezra pushed the cases up against the wall. Sitting on the edge of the cot, arms crossed but without the dark, sharpened glare of suspension. No, his curiosity was again, much like that night in the bar. “You write?”

Shaking your head, you gently closed the notebooks cover. “Nothing good.”

A dimple appearing as Ezra grinned to himself, “So my Cee thought at first too.” The frown slid back though, looking down at nothing as his hands flexed to themselves. “Probably would have stopped all together if her father had anything to do with it.”

Nothing of what he spoke about the man that night told you they had fond memories but the way he himself looks when talking about her is proud above all else. “Does she want to write for a living?”

He huffed a laugh, “She’s fifteen and spent most of her life travelling around backwater moons like this. Girl’s got no clue what she wants to do.” There was no malice or judgment, just a fond smile still. You tentatively sat down beside him, not wanting to disrupt the softness. “It’s why I sent her to some fancy school. Give her the chance to figure out what she wants, even if it’s just for right now. Not many kids in this kind of life get that choice.”

Heart beating wildly, you were as soft spoken as could get. “Ezra, what’s going to happen to me.”

A man with a mind of wonders, he answered your question with a question. “I told you half the truth that night. About myself.” Turning his upper body to face you, he felt so much larger then you did. Like even sitting his broad frame towered over you with his dark eyes. “Me and Cee live over on Lorien. That junk rat planet you call a home is just where my, former partner, was staying.” His hand gesturing out to the unseen planet side beyond the walls.

Lorien was no joke. A planet side of the water, many homes living like their own island with a tunnel system interconnecting them. It was expensive, but quiet. The kind of money to live in a place like that and yet he sat next to you, as run through and grime covered as any other prospector and just as rash and dangerous. “Why-”

“We were going for a Queen’s Lair.” He didn’t look at you, and missed the wide look on your face as well as the twist of confusion once more. “I was hurt, told her to leave me behind. But she’s stubborn, went for the jems, and came back for me. And for whatever reason, decided that half that money was mine even though all I did was get my arm cut off. By her no less, I may add.”

There were details you couldn’t grasp, but if the gist of what he was saying is accurate, then a man such as himself as no reason to interact with someone like you. Let alone sleep with them, hunt them down, take them for himself or whatever this was. “Then why do you still...you know, do stuff like this?”

Smiling to himself there was a shimmer of brightness poking through. “Used to work with him a ton,” once more jutting his chin to the entrance. “Got himself into some trouble, loan sharks and the like. So he calls me up, asking for a favour to help pay them off his backs. Not that sharks matter on the Green.”

You didn’t ask, he didn’t say. Some things you were okay being in the dark on detail.

Inhaling, he leaned back grabbing the case that belonged to your team and tossed it into your lap. “I assume you already know what’s in this.”

Holding it in your hands you pressed your fingertips harsh against the metal. Your eyes narrow and jaw clenched as you contemplated your answer. “Just tell me the truth on one thing and I’ll never ask again. Did you steal it or did he?”

“Technically he did, and it very likely makes me equally as bad for not wanting to return what is rightfully theirs.” You didn’t bother opening it again to look. It was just jems. Stones and the like that would sell for more then you’d ever get paid to harvest even a planet of them. You liked working off world, you didn’t really care about the rush of harvest.

Small voice, you wished you had more confidence to just demand it all make sense. “You don’t need the money.”

Ezra, was firm. And quick. “No, but I do believe in being paid what I am rightfully owned. Keamy marooned me on place not to dissimilar to where we are. And I made it out, orphan in tow and missing my fucking arm. He’s a leader, he has to pay for such mistakes.”

You touched the numbers on the lock, now stationed at it’s opening combination. You could scramble it now. Ruin the opening and force him to give you back in return for the jems. But you didn’t. You sat there, frustrated that the book behind you interested you more then what could be easy extortion to freedom.

Sighing out, you gently placed it down onto the ground between your feet before wringing your hands in your lap together once more. “Can I ask one last question?” You could see Ezra nod in the corner of your eye. “Why me?”

Not looking at him caused you to miss the sinking in his heart. In his eyes, who else but you? How could you spend that night together and not understand that you consumed his soul and plagued his eyes with visions and ears with haunts of your soft cries and tender pleas. In what galaxy would he not feel so possessed by you?

Mimicking your leaned over posture, Ezra looked at you firmly even tough you couldn’t muster your heart to be brave and look back. His voice was low, and a rasp that sent static through your veins.

“Give me one last night, jem. And I’ll show you.”

You should have said no, in fact you should have run while you could have, he was giving you that option earlier. Left you all alone with every chance to escape, so why were you here? Back almost pressed against the wall of the shower, trapped between it and Ezra as your knees begged you for mercy.

All he had done was prompt you to kneel in front of him and you were the one who dropped in an instant. Your mouth already filled with saliva both yours and his from how urgently he kissed you, that and the water still reigning down on you forcing your eyes shut from the constant pressure.

His hand tightly gripped in your hair, he didn’t even need to tap at your swollen lips to open, you seeked his cock with hunger. Both moving down his length and the push of him at the back of your head, Ezra sank deep within your mouth.

Had it been hours since the conversation earlier? Days perhaps? You couldn’t tell, he stripped you down and has kept you naked and either on his cock or attached to his lips at all times. Your neck already sore and burning from the marks he now proudly bit into you, showing a display of teeth and bruises that would draw much attention to them.

Only when you were quite covered did he suggest a shower, but had no patience to do anything but satiate his appetite. You think he might have taken something, his cock always seemed hard no matter how many times he fucked you and took pleasure in being the one to guide you to just take more and more.

Filling your mouth, your nose brushed against the coarse, dark hair surrounding his cock but it too was wet and soaked from the shower water. The pressure screamed at you to gag, but you felt his fist in your hair tense, flexing as if to warn you from moving. Only slowly did he let you come down, hissing over the already loud noises around him. “That’s right, jem. Cock’s made only for you, you and this sweet little mouth- fuck,”

Tone trying to be deep and rasping, but switching to a moan each time he spoke too long. Unable to maintain composure without losing his grip on control. Control that you long had since realized you willingly signed over to him.

Guiding your head slightly faster, your hands tightened on their grip of his thighs. Knees screaming at you to get up, but truly did you want too? He was screwed up, and so was this, but you felt yourself grow needier the closer he was to cumming.

Only, such a need was yanked away from you just as your mouth was his cock. In a second, the rest of your body was pulled up. World spinning as Ezra flipped you and pressed your chest right against the wall, his body hard against your back.

Teeth digging into your neck, jaw and up to your ear you could feel how much he was gritting his teeth as he spoke. “Maybe we’ll never go back. Just stay right here, have you all to myself whenever I want, however I want. Huh, jem? You want that? To belong to me?”

You reached a hand behind you, raking it through his soaking wet hair. Pushing your hips back to press his cock firmly into your ass. Your logical side said no, don’t nod, don’t say yes. Make him let you go, forget this obsession or possession that has bewitched him with you and go back to the quiet, nothing life of your backwater planet.

But you didn’t. You nodded yes, pleading his name as he sunk his cock once more deep inside of you. So wet that there was little need to even thrust hard, and yet he fucked you as he had every time so far, hard and with pounding thrusts that could echo the room.

Throbbing inside of you, Ezra came with only a few minutes of hot water left. Every time unable to decide if he wanted to cum inside of you or all over you. Pulling out half way through, your walls were painted with his cum but now so once again was your cunt and ass.

He’d reach his hand down, smearing it over your skin as he rubbed harshly at your clit, fingers two, three sliding deep to push the rest of it back inside of you.

His voice was low and deep in your ear, dripping with a malicious affection that scared you as much as it dragged you further down the need of addictive. “We belong together, jem. World wouldn’t have brought you to me if we didn’t.”

Tilting your head back, he pressed his lips to yours. Tongue sliding in, much more smooth and gentle then his fingers were inside of you. Tasting one another, and a mix of himself on your own tongue it made you both moan. At the very least, you could spent an eternity kissing him and be content.

It wasn’t until later, much later as the night fell upon the planet with you curled into his chest, did Ezra start thinking. What to tell Cee, what life he wanted to give you, and exactly how he should make sure you are happy, happy with him, with Cee. In their home, in their family.

After all, Ezra didn’t spent over a year stalking you from the shadows, just to make you miserable.

#ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x female reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect/reader #ezra prospect/you #ezra prospect imagine #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra propsect fic

[crimsonheart01]

Saturday June 18, 2022

+ FIC RECS MASTERLIST +

I didn’t do a lot of reading this week but here’s the round up of what I actually got around too. 

If you read any of the stories on this list, please make sure to show love to the authors by liking and reblogging their content!

A reminder to everyone that my blog houses 21+ content. This post isn’t any different. I’m not adding in the specific tags or warnings for each rec here but know that they can house adult content as well.

✨ If you are under 21, please DNI.✨

1.   A Girl Walks Into A Bookshop by @oonajaeadira​​

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect) x Fem!Reader

My dearest Adira, this was stunning. I think I’ve ascended to a higher realm because of this story. I am still floating from this one. I’ve been going through it the last few weeks - maybe it’s been a month now, but this made things a little more bearable. The way you write these characters. The nuance, the je ne sais quoi. They are perfect, especially in how they’re imperfect. They each have their own rough edges but they all make up a beautiful family. I adored this. ADORED IT. 

#crims fic recs #oonajaeadira #a girl walks into a bookshop #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra prospect x fem!reader #ezra prospect imagine #ezra prospect imagines #ezra prospect fanfic #ezra prospect fanfiction #prospect (film)

[netherfeildren]

Masterlist:

Updates Blog : Follow and turn on notifications for new writing! All works are 18+

Fear of God : Joel Miller x OFC

Summary : What was monstrousness? What was it, but a certainty that there existed within you multitudes of desires, needs, guilts, impulses – humanity? At the end of the world, when the dust has finally settled, Joel grapples with what it is to take hold of your own monstrosity – your own humanity – and live with it. And what it is to bear that truth in the palm of your hand held towards the person you love, offer it to them, and have it be accepted for what it was. Courage, above all else, it is courage that is necessary to go on.

-OR-

Big bad Joel Miller falls in love and doesn't know how to deal with it.

Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: What do you do when you meet a woman, have a child, get married, and then find the love of your life?

-OR-

A Joel infidelity AU

The Cassandra Complex : Ongoing : Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: Enter: A man who is not so much a man, but an effigy, a wound of steel and armor and Creed – secrecy and masked faces, above all else.

Enter: A girl who is not a girl, but a creature helmed in darkness and spit out unto the galaxy broken and unmoored.

Enter: the creation of myth.

-OR-

the mandalorian / dark sider au

Pink : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: The story of a son who won’t love you, and his father, who will.

-OR-

the father-in-law AU

Honey, Stomach, Mine : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Existence is a needful thing. Choice is fickle, nature inescapable. Run to the end of the world, Joel, all those things will still find you. 

She'll still come for you. 

-OR-

the A/B/O outbreak AU 

One Shots :

bétteln : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary : You really want Joel to give you a baby. You don’t really care what he has to say about it.

biéten : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary : Now that you have his baby in you, you’re Joel’s most special girl. 

Kiss, Kiss, Kill, Kill! : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel is a long haul truck driver. One day he finds a pretty girl in a diner and decides he’d like to keep her. 

Murder and sex ensue!

Greener Memories of Better Men : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Best Story of the Day! South Austin elementary school started a “Breakfast With Dads” program but many dads couldn’t make it and several students didn’t have father figures. The school posted fliers at the local YMCA’s for 50 volunteer fathers… 600 different people from all backgrounds showed up…

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]

helping you shine

summary: ezra helps you feel better through the way he knows you love; pleasure and pain.

pairing: ezra x f!reader word count: 4.0k warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n ; dom/sub; nipple clamps; gags; praise & degradation (a little); anal plug; anal play; unprotected p in v; spit kink; spanking; pussy slapping; slight bondage (using rope as restraints); orgasm denial; overstimulation; sub space?

• masterlist •

“Ezra- Oh, Ezra, please- I need-”

He shushed her with a finger to his lips, watching her squirm and pull against the restraints keeping her anchored to the headboard of their bed.

The tears on her cheeks were glistening in the low lights, like small stars strewn across the galaxy.

“My gem, I need you to be quiet for me so I can help you.” He said quietly, with a soft smile. Eyes sparkling dangerously. “I know just what you need, my starlight, do not worry your beautiful, bright head.”

She nodded, growing quiet, still squirming.

Ezra always knew what she needed, was always willing to help her find release during particularly difficult days.

When dark clouds drove the sunshine from her mind.

When she craved a twisted version of intimacy, acted out by someone she could trust.

Rough hands, rough words.

But still interlaced with some gentleness so she wouldn’t forget entirely.

His hand wandered over her exposed skin, up her stomach and to her breasts, taking one and squeezing it roughly as he stood next to her, looming above her.

“How about some pretty chains, my starlight?” Ezra asked, already reaching for a small box on the bedside table, pulling out some nipple clamps. “You love when I bite you, this might be a similar feeling for you.”

She only nodded again.

Tonight she’d say yes to anything he gave her, she just wanted to feel something else than what settled deep in her chest.

He smiled softly, pinching one nipple to make it harden, chuckling at her sounds of pleasure before attaching one clamp, then repeating the same on the other side.

Tugging at the metal chain once when he was finished.

“Such a rare, beautiful gem, only for my eyes to see, in my bed.” His hand smoothed over her thigh, taking in her desperate eyes, the wetness still lingering in them. “Aren’t you, my starlight?”

She needed those reminders sometimes.

“Yes- Ezra-” Her voice trembled, watching as he rummaged around in the box again, breath hitched.

Pulling out a plug, she whimpered, her hands straining against the ropes bound around her wrists.

“My little bird, we both know you want this.” He said with a soft click of his tongue, pulling out a bottle of lube next. “You want me to use your precious body, don’t you? To feel worthy, my gem?”

She whimpered again but nodded, shame crawling over her skin now and making her feel hot.

The push and pull of praise and slight degradation made her feel fuzzy, squirming on the bed.

“Stop squirming.” Ezra said, voice low. “Or do you want me to tie you up some more, my starlight?”

She shook her head, biting at her bottom lip. “No.”

The mattress dipped below him as he kneeled on it, positioning himself between her spread legs, laying down the shiny, silver plug and the lube next to her.

“Good, then you need to behave, stay still for me while I help you.” He said, hands running up and down her calves, teasingly and slowly. Letting her feel the warmth of his hands, his dark eyes raking over her body before finding hers. “Such a gorgeous sight, my gem. My prettiest trophy.”

A blush spread over her cheeks as he said that, the warmth travelling down over her chest.

His hands went to the back of her knees, spreading her wide for him as he just watched for a moment, how her pussy glistened just like her cheeks did.

The shame only made her more desperate, while he watched how she clenched around nothing as she waited.

“Ezra, please.”

Ezra shushed her again, gently as his dark eyes found hers, his hands wandering down her thighs and to her hips.

“My gem, you have to be patient, I will help you in due time.”

His thumb pressed lightly against her clit, making her jump and him smirk, gliding over it slowly, almost too slowly.

He kept his pace slow, even as her hips jerked against him, trying to get more friction, but he just moved back with her movements, not allowing her more just yet.

Torturing her with featherlight movements before drawing back.

Eyes snapping up to hers as she let out a long whine in protest, his hand coming down harshly over her pussy, making her cry out, her legs snap shut.

“Ah-ah, my starlight, you are too greedy, like an insatiable slut.” He scolded her, spreading her legs open again. “Are you a slut, my starlight? Demanding something you don’t deserve yet?”

She shook her head, sobbing. Her mind was so hazy, he knew just how to play her so she felt like she was floating, his words burning on her skin.

“But you are, my gem. Look at you squirming, demanding release when you know you don’t deserve it.”

Ezra reached for the lube, watching her eyes follow his fingers as he spread the liquid on them before putting the bottle away again.

Pressing them against the tight ring of muscle, watching her squirm again.

“Please- Ezra-”

He slipped one of them in, a strangled moan bubbling in her throat as he shushed her.

“Keep talking and I’ll gag you, my starlight.” Working his finger in and out of her, slowly as he kept watching her face. “But not with my cock. Do you really want that?”

She shook her head, quiet save for the small whimpers that she couldn’t bite back.

Moaning loudly when he slipped another finger into her, scissoring them to stretch her open wider, head thrashing.

She needed release, needed him. Needed him to give her pain and pleasure so she could feel better.

“There she is, you can be vocal, my gem. But you need to stop talking.” His other hand went to the chain resting on her stomach, pulling on it with a smirk. Watched her back arch, how she bit her lip. “I enjoy your pretty little sounds.”

When he felt like she was open enough, he slipped his fingers out of her, hands on the back of her knees again to open her up to him, just watching.

Knowing she was ashamed to be this open, literally. Have him see her pulse, ready and aching for him.

“So pretty.”

He mumbled, letting go of her, reaching for the plug and the lube. It would be just a little bigger than his two fingers had been, but he would be gentle and he knew she would enjoy the stretch.

She wanted pain, and he would give her pain.

Coating it generously, he put the bottle away once again and pressed the toy against her, letting her feel the cold metal. Something like a noise of protest left her, strangled and twisted.

“What is it, my gem?” He asked, slowly pushing it inside, his other hand on one thigh to keep her spread open. Watching how her greedy hole swallowed it, going slower when he reached the widest part.

“Big.” It was the only word she could get out, mentally in a world far away from here.

Ezra chuckled, pressing the plug all the way inside, then pushing on the base with his thumb, watching her pussy clench.

“You’ve taken bigger.”

Another smack on her pussy, followed by a second one. Her high pitched cry music to his ears, thumb lightly brushing over her clit after.

“Looking so pretty for me, with chains and this toy in your ass.” His lips found the inside of her knee, hooking her leg over his shoulder as he bent over her, so he could be face to face with her.

The stretch hurt, but she didn’t say anything, only whimpering, looking up at him through the tears.

“Colour?” He asked, rough hand caressing her soft cheek, wet with tears.

Always checking in with her. Careful not to step over the line they had both drawn.

There was only pleasure in her pain and humiliation if she enjoyed it as well.

“Green.” She whispered, her hands tugging at the rope connected to the headboard, just wanting to touch him.

He relented, his hand reaching up to squeeze her hand briefly, before it came back down to her face, taking her chin in hand, fingers squeezing into the softness of her cheeks.

“Open.” 

His voice was calm but left no room for discussion, watching as she fought with her mind. Knowing it wasn’t her favourite, which was exactly why he was doing it, and also knowing she knew how to opt out of this if she needed to.

Waiting. Seeing the emotions cross her face as she broke herself down, the faintest bit of pressure on her cheeks letting her mouth fall open, tongue sticking out.

“Good girl, my starlight.” He praised her, her eyes widening for a moment.

Gathering saliva in his mouth before slowly letting it drip onto her waiting tongue, a throaty noise of protest turning into a moan when his knee pressed against her middle.

“Swallow, like the whore you are.” 

She did, swallowing the spit which tasted so much like him, sweet like the fruit he ate and smoky like the alcohol he liked.

Opening her mouth after to show him, happy he smiled down at her, letting go of her cheeks.

Fingers now pressing down onto her tongue, still sticking out, her brows furrowed.

“Suck on them.” He said, chuckling when her lips closed around them, his knee pressing into her harder. “Like you’d suck my dick, my gem.”

Her tongue swirled along his rough fingers, tasting herself on him as well as the lube, her hips grinding into his clothed knee in search of some friction.

To her surprise, he let her, thrusting his fingers in and out of her mouth like he would with her pussy. But he didn’t plan on that today, enjoying how she sucked on his fingers like her life depended on it, eyes glazed over.

“Such an obedient whore.” Tugging on the chain hanging from her breasts, harder this time. Her moan coming out muffled around his thick fingers, her hips moving faster. “That desperate to get off on my knee, starlight?”

He sat back up, removing his fingers from her mouth as he did, as well as moving his knee back. Enjoying how she squirmed, and looking at the dark patch that had formed on his grey sweatpants.

Clicking his tongue, making her whimper, tugging at the rope.

“You’d rub your sweet, dripping pussy against anything to get off, wouldn’t you, my sweet gem?” She shook her head but he just laughed, swatting her thigh sharply. “Yes you would, stop lying to me.”

All she could do was sob, too far gone for proper words. She was almost shaking from how worked up she was, angling her legs so she was spread open for him, as if to invite him in.

He understood, his rough hands once again smoothing over the back of her thighs, feeling how they trembled. They felt hot on her skin, like he was burning her. 

So obedient for him.

Ezra sighed, reaching for his pants, watching her eyes go wild with excitement, still not saying a word.

She could do so well if she wanted to. And he felt like he had tortured her enough for tonight.

At least like this.

“My pretty gem is excited, isn’t she?” He said, moving so he could remove his pants, then coming back to kneel between her legs again. Cock heavy and leaking, letting its weight rest on her abdomen. “She wants to be filled, right? Taken?”

Her heartbeat was visible through her chest, pumping hard against her ribcage as she squirmed. So close to what she needed.

“Used?”

A pathetic moan, turning into a whimper. A messy noise bubbling from her chest into her throat.

Used, exactly. She wanted to be used by him. 

“Just my pretty fuckdoll to be used by me?” He teased, taking his cock in one hand and letting the head glide through her folds. When he notched against her entrance, she squirmed harder, whimpering in excitement but he just moved on, hitting her clit a few times with the fat head instead. “My gem, just here for me to fuck my cum into you?”

“Ezra.” His name was broken, a sob wrecking her. “Ezra, Ezra.”

It was the only thing she was capable of saying anymore, earning a slap on her other thigh, a sharp tug at the chains on her. 

“What did I say, my gem?”

He knew his words broke her down further, that’s why he was talking to her. It was fun to see her lose her last bit of sanity below him, turning brainless almost.

Leaning over her, towards the box on the nightstand, she watched him take out a ball gag, one of their simpler gags. Nothing that could give her anything to suck on while he fucked her.

She didn’t deserve that tonight.

Ezra had to wrangle her just a little as he put it on, before it finally sat securely in her mouth.

“Good, my gem?” He asked, brushing some hair from her face. 

God, he was too good at balancing out the harshness with his sweet gestures, checking in with her.

Knew how important it was to do so.

She nodded, humming in affirmation.

“Remember the signal?”

She nodded, rapidly snapping her fingers three times.

“Good, and if you feel like you can’t snap?”

Three short hums, different from any noises she usually made.

“Well done, my starlight.” He smiled, caressing her cheek. “Such a good girl.”

Feeling warm at the praise, something akin to a giggle left her, making him laugh.

Then he leaned back again, lining himself up with her, waiting. She knew this game, he wanted to build anticipation, pretending to rock forward slightly before stilling again.

Wanting to see her lose her patience, aching and dripping for him, hands flexing in the restraints.

Pushing into her when she was about to lose it, making her cry out as he buried himself all the way, stilling for a moment. Just watching her reactions, her head rolling from side to side, tears on her cheeks.

Not signalling, clearly still enjoying the pain.

He didn’t wait long before he started to move, grunting as he felt her tight heat around him, spasming as he pumped in and out of her.

So tight with the plug in her ass, feeling it as he moved.

Clearly close already, her noises growing louder.

“You’re enjoying this too much, starlight.” He said, hooking her legs over his shoulders, swatting her thigh which made her moan. Eyes rolling into the back of her head, too close to the edge. “Taking me like a little whore, like my little whore.”

Just as she was about to fall over, he pulled out of her, wrapping his arms around her legs as she began kicking, whining in protest.

He loved watching her try to squirm as her orgasm ebbed away again, so clearly lost in the mounting pleasure and close to breaking apart.

So sweet, throwing her head back in frustration.

As he waited, he reached up to adjust the clamps around her nipples. Taking one off, just toying with the peak a little, until he legs began to move against him, then putting it back on before moving on to the other.

Teasing her, dragging this out.

“You know you won’t get what you want by throwing a temper tantrum, my starlight.” He said, caressing her breast slowly. “Unless you can prove you can stay still, I will be just fine playing with your beautiful breasts.”

A deep grunt left her, clearly annoyed with him, turning into a frustrated noise.

But she tried to stay still, as still as she could be with how much she hurt, how much she needed him. Needed him to take her apart and put her back together.

She opened her eyes to look at him, seeing him proud and smiling.

“There you go.” He said, reattaching the clamp before letting his hand wander down her side, feeling her muscles twitch. “My pretty girl can be so obedient.”

And then he pushed inside her again, working her up until she was squirming, leaning over her so she felt the stretch in her legs, still resting on his broad shoulders. Breathing becoming faster and faster, just in reach of what she needed.

Gone again.

She couldn’t stop the sob, feeling so empty without his thick cock inside of her, even if she still felt the plug inside of her. Feeling her orgasm ebb away once again as he only laughed, fingertips brushing over her thighs.

“So pretty when you’re denied what you really want.” He whispered, eyes sparkling as he looked over her. “How many times can you do this, mhm? Last time we did this six times? Seven?”

Her eyes went wide, shaking her head frantically, sobbing again, but not signalling.

Two slaps to her thighs made her stop, moaning at the pain, one of his hands moving to the plug, pressing against it before pulling at it just a little.

Back and forth, not creating enough friction for her to gain anything from this, but it was enough to tease her nonetheless.

Making her feel like she could burst.

“I know, I know. We won’t break that record tonight, you’re too needy for that, and I need to help you, my gem.” He said, soothing the red marks with his hands. “But you can do this once more, can’t you?”

She nodded, trying to stay still as he pushed into her, slowly this time.

So close already, so worked up.

He felt the same, her tight heat so overwhelming every time, coupled with her flushed body, wet cheeks and pleading eyes.

Fuck, she was beautiful. So beautiful and all his.

No one else got to do this to her.

Ezra waited just a moment when he bottomed out, building up the anticipation again, then moving.

Slow at first, almost like he did want to torture her, pulling all the way out and then pushing back in.

Then he became faster, the wet squelch of her pussy echoing in the small bedroom, accompanied by his deep grunts and her sweet moans.

“Show me how much you need this, my starlight. How much you enjoy me using you.”

His thumb found her clit, making her tense up immediately, her cries muffled by the gag in her mouth as her body seized up. 

Gone, eyes rolling into the back of her head, feeling nothing more than the pleasure which bordered on pain as he kept circling her clit, pounding into her with harsh thrusts.

All her feelings zeroed in on that one point in her body, the first orgasm not quite gone as the second approached rapidly.

Her moans told him as much, her frantic whimpers as she pulled at the rope around her wrists.

“Like that, just give in, my gem. Doing so well.” He moaned, the way she squeezed him almost too much, but he kept holding on, needing more from her. “Greedy slut, your little ass and pussy stuffed so full, isn’t it amazing?”

She came again, the pleasure now nothing but pain, surging through her veins and lighting everything on fire as it went. Her mind entirely empty save for him.

“Need you one more time, just once and I’ll fill you up all the way, my precious gem.” He grunted, pressing his thumb down harder, losing his rhythm. “I’ll give you all my cum as a reward for being such a precious, little thing for me. Fill you up until you’re round.”

It was all too much, feeling exhaustion creep in as she stopped squirming, her body only tensing up again when another orgasm hit her.

The promise of him filling her up too good, too exciting, feeling him hold out just a little longer through the haze in her mind before he buried himself all the way, just like he promised.

Pulsing inside of her as he stopped, a painful groan vibrating in his chest, grabbing her thighs harshly.

“Good girl, my gem. So well done.” He whispered as he calmed down, letting her legs down gently. 

Immediately working on removing the clamps, carefully as her body twitched at the soft touch, skin on fire with each brush of his fingers. Then removing the gag next, his name falling from her lips immediately, over and over, voice hoarse.

His lips finding hers as he kissed her, cradling her cheeks, just letting her feel more of him.

Pulling back, he reached for the rope tying her hands above her as he praised her.

“You were so good, my pretty gem, my darling girl.” Ezra said, untying one side before moving to the other, letting it dangle from the headboard. Her hands were on him immediately, her muscles screaming in protest as she let her hands roam over his arms, up to his broad shoulders and then his face.

Feeling the roughness of his beard against her soft palms, grounding herself.

Ezra let her, knowing she needed this after what just happened, her sobs slowly becoming less and less. Letting her hands wander into his dark hair, brushing over the blonde tuft she loved so much.

Like she was in a trance, the pain fading away as she looked at him, feeling him.

“Pretty, pretty girl.” He cooed, kissing her cheek, the sudden movement making her wince.

“Out, out, Ezra.” She breathed, whimpering when he slowly pulled out of her, setting back on his legs. “Fucking hurts.”

He chuckled, one hand brushing over her thigh as he carefully pulled the plug out of her, watching her eyes squeeze shut.

Throwing it to the side when he was finished, kissing the inside of her knee before moving so he could sit behind her, manoeuvring her boneless body around until she rested against his chest.

She felt lighter now, whatever has plagued her far gone. Like she was floating, eyes heavy but her hands moving over his legs beside her.

“Come on, you have to drink.” He said, reaching for the water bottle on the table, opening it before holding it against her lips. “My precious gem must be thirsty.”

She eagerly emptied half the bottle, breathing hard when she was done, letting her head fall against his shoulder. Hands still moving up and down his strong thighs.

“How are you feeling now, my gem?” Ezra asked, pulling a blanket over them, drawing soft patterns into her skin with his fingertips. “Was anything too much?”

She shook her head, twisting it so she could look up at him, eyes tired and a small smile on her face. The smile he loved so much, the one she gave him after an exhausting day out, finding precious stones.

“All good.” She whispered, her hand gently squeezing his thigh, with the little strength she still had in her. “Thank you, Ezra.”

He kissed her forehead before finding her lips, slow and gentle, as if she was too delicate to be handled.

She always laughed about it, the way he kissed her after. As if he hadn’t just slapped her, pinched her skin.

So loving now, like he usually was.

“I’m glad I could help my most precious gem.” He said, moving just a little to get more comfortable. One of his hands wandering into her hair, carding his fingers through it and watching as her eyelids slowly became heavier.

“You deserve to shine as bright as the stars we visit, little bird. Nothing should ever dim your light.” He whispered, kissing the top of her head. “I am happy I can help you shine again.”

She hummed, barely hearing him anymore as she drifted off into sleep, her body heavy, knowing she would hurt tomorrow, but also looking forward to it.

Always a nice reminder of how much he loved her, how much she could trust him and give herself to him.

And whatever happened, he would always be there to help her shine, no matter what it took. 

#ezra #ezra prospect #prospect #ezra x reader #ezra prospect x reader #ezra x you #ezra prospect x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal characters #my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fic #fic

[ladamedusoif]

Watching Graham Norton’s NYE show on TV and almost spat out my champagne when he announced his musical guests.

Ezra Collective.

My brain went in only one direction.

#imagining a jazz band entirely made up of ezras now #it’s…chaotic #but hot #ezra prospect #pedro pascal

[boliv-jenta]

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character imagines #dave york #tim rockford #ezra prospect

[morallyinept]

Reverence - A Ezra x Limb Prosthesis F!Reader One Shot

Written as part of my B O D I E S Series 🤎

BODIES MASTERLIST

Summary: A mysterious, vagabond man comes to your aid, and in return you show him some kindness. And over the course of a stormy night, you discover you both have more in common than just outward appearances.

Pairing: Ezra x Limb Prosthesis F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader in terms of ethnicity, Reader does have hair, however. Reader has a prosthetic limb. She was born with an underdeveloped limb below the left knee. Reader's age is not mentioned, so you can determine/imagine it's you, if you'd like to, bub. Ezra is in his early-to-mid 40's.)

Word Count: 12.1k - because Ezra won't shut up. 🙃

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Triggers & warnings: Mentions and descriptions of limb loss/use of a prosthetic limb/Ezra is missing his arm/Reader is missing her leg below the knee/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!) fingering/oral M & F receiving/there is no fetishising of limb loss here, it's real love/sex with very real bodies/an imagined world created within the Prospect universe/Ezra comes with a thesaurus

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: It's important to me that all types of readers are represented in my work, therefore this collection of stories is written for readers with REAL bodies. However, anyone can enjoy them. Whilst this story may not specifically represent your own personal journey, it is my hope that it resonates and offers comfort and enjoyment. The condition/disability mentioned in this story is not 'one size fits all' - everyone's journey is personal and unique, and I have undertaken as much research as I can to write accurately and respectfully. 🤎

MAIN MASTERLIST | EZRA MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

The Pug is a skiv of a planet that seems to have been forgotten by time itself.

Its once-gleaming skyscrapers now stand as towering monuments to a bygone era; their facades stained with the grime of countless rotations. The feculent streets below are a tangled web of concrete and steel, where the lurid neon glow of Vayok advertising signs cast flickering shadows on the faces of the downtrodden masses.

The air of Puggert Bench is thick with the acrid stench of industry, a noxious cocktail of pollutants and toxic fumes that hang heavy over Noki District like a thick shroud.

The sound of machinery echoes through the streets, a constant reminder of the ceaseless churn of production that drives the small planet's rototiller economy, despite being nothing more than a mechanical layover for most passing through on freighters. 

Despite the harshness of its environment, Puggert Bench is a livable place of vibrant contrasts. Here, lander pods zip past rusting hulks of abandoned ship corpses, their sleek orbs cutting through the smog with effortless grace.

The cloud stream, blocking out the sun in a haze of burnt umber that chokes you when it sticks to the back of your throat, carries on the breeze through the air into your nasal cavity as you breathe in. When you blow your nose later, black shit will present itself to you in your tissue, unless you wrap up with a mask or scarf whilst outside.

For every gleaming skyscraper and bustling marketplace, there are a dozen dark alleys and forgotten corners where the lawless thrive. In the shadows of the city's turgid underbelly, criminal syndicates and black-market traders ply their illicit loot prospected from alien moons; their activities hidden from the prying eyes of the less-than-honourable authorities.

Everyone is fair game in this place.

A place, where walking by yourself late at night probably isn’t a wise idea, but when left with little choice as your shift runs over - again - you brave it head on, picking up your often wonky steps with a hurried pace.

You’ve walked this grimy thoroughfare countless times, memorising the way with muscle memory. You wrap your fraying scarf round your face, cutting out the tar that burns on your tongue.

A slight drag on your gait, an itch surfaces where the buckles rub at your skin around your left knee joint. You stop, pinching and digging your fingers in over your pants to tug out the relief from the burn of the itch.

With each step, you’re reminded of the weight that bears down upon you - the prosthetic limb pressing back against your prickly marred skin with a relentless intensity. The artificial joint, no matter how seamlessly it's been integrated with your body, still causes a continual dull ache that reverberates through your bones with every movement.

You can switch it off sometimes, but the hard pavement beneath you seems to magnify every twinge of discomfort, every jolt that sends shockwaves of thudding pain coursing through your remaining upper limb with every step you take.

You’re still toying with the idea of trading it in for a bionic model, but the foreboding cost and invasive surgeries to wire it into your nerves - that come with their own horrific testimonials of those who’ve had it done, and done badly - far outweighs any desired practicality. Instead you navigate life with the callouses and blisters, used to them being part of your daily routine.  

Slipping your fingers between the buckles offers minimal, sweet respite for a few blissful moments as you scratch, when suddenly, a hand shoots out from the darkness, grabbing you roughly by the arm and yanking you into a secluded alcove; the brick walls slick with the sweat of the city.

Before you can react, a gruff voice growls in your ear, sending a chill down your spine.

"Your credits. Now!" The assailant demands, his putrid breath hot against your neck as he presses a sharp object against your side.

Panic surges through your veins as you fumble for your wallet, your hands trembling with fear as you forget momentarily which pocket it’s in.

He shoves his hand in the pocket closest to him, rooting around in there uncouthly as you protest and struggle.

You’re both disturbed when a shadowy figure emerges from the darkness, with a quiet determination.

The newcomer is a man of imposing stature, his features obscured by the billowy hood of his tattered coat, and a facial scarf of his own that covers his nose down to his chin.

But what catches your attention most is the sight of his empty right sleeve, the fabric of his coat pinned haphazardly against his shoulder where his arm should be. 

“I’d rethink that course of action, unless violence with a matched counterpart is what you're getting at.” The man warns in a steady, yet rich Southern drawl. 

Your mugger mouths some regurgitated insult in Vayok. You don‘t fully speak it, but you know enough to know he’s mocking the obvious disability of the man, who simply chortles in response to a jibe he’s probably heard before.

But you're left wondering in bewilderment at how your apparent saviour will pull this off. 

“You assume this handicap is to my detriment? Are you sure you wish to find out how inaccurate that misinformed assumption is?”

Undeterred by his physical limitation, the man squares his shoulders, his gaze locks on the attacker with unwavering resolve; a pair of dark eyes shining defiantly in the dim light of the alley.

In a matter of moments, fisticuffs ensue. It happens so fast, you're unsure who threw the first hook. Seizing the opportunity, you break free from the thief's grasp and stumble away; your heart pounding in your chest as you watch the scene unfold before you. 

You watch helplessly as the man’s coat is torn where it’s previously pinned as they kerfuffle and tussle - the tear in the dirty fabric is deep. The one-armed man subdues your attacker, his movements fluid and precise despite his apparent infirmity.

But a surprise blow to the sternum knocks him down with a winded oof. 

The bolt pistol is revealed; gleaming chromatic and pearly in the night air as it falls from the coat pocket of the man and skitters towards your feet. 

A single squeeze on the trigger renders your attacker incapacitated, growling as he clutches his shoulder and stares up at you taking careful aim again. 

The thief stumbles backward, his grip loosening on the man completely as he struggles to regain his balance. He’s all teeth and spittle as you watch the one-armed man take his hand - that’s still holding onto your wallet - and bends it back at a sickening angle.

The assailant yelps with the slow, deliberate cracking. 

“Drop it, or I can assure you I’ll make it a more painful process than necessary.” The man warns.

The wallet clatters to the ground.

“Excellent. I suggest you hasten with speed to get your wound tended to, lest I change my mind about absolving myself from further violence.”

As the thief slinks away into the darkness, nursing his wounds and cursing under his breath, you turn to your saviour, your eyes wide with gratitude and dumbfounded admiration.

But he slumps down the wall clutching under his ribs, chest heaving. 

“In Kevva’s name, woman!” He snarls when he sees you still taking aim.

Taking little risk, you keep a grip of the pistol, primed and ready.

“Yes,” he nods, breathing in raggedly. “Best to keep your wits about you, Birdie. There are all manner of beasties out here who would relish a chance to get you.” He sniffs deeply. “But tell me, do you treat all your saviours with the same warm welcome or am I the exception?”

“Can never be too certain.” You remark with a shaky hand. "It's like you say, all manner of beasties."

He looks at you like a dog sniffing out the other; sniffing out whether you’re a threat to him or not. Dark eyes preened on you and unrelenting.

“Keep it steady, pet.” He motions to the blaster with a subtle nod. “A weak grip makes an opportunity easy to exploit.” 

You look at him suspiciously, two dark tar eyes regarding you back as he pulls down his scarf to breathe, and to show you his face for reassurance you assume, although the swampy air makes him cough and hack.

“Just some friendly advice.” He explains with a dull shrug. He sucks in air with a deep snort and spits out a globule of phlegm on the pavement. 

“The mistake you make is assuming we’re friends.” You confirm confidently, although there's a tremor to your tone. Your body feels like jelly as you try to steady yourself. 

“An underestimation I won’t make again, duly noted.” The man confirms as he struggles to stand upright himself. 

“Do you need a hand?” You put to him as he struggles with balance. 

He glares up at you with a rather repugnant look through cinched in brows. The two deep pits of his nostrils flare at you like black holes opening across the vacant universe that’ll swallow you whole.

“Sorry. Poor choice of words.” You quip, as you step towards his sneer. You remain steadfast with the bolt pistol, holding out your other hand. 

He mutters fast under his breath, growling, and you don't catch it.

"What was that?" You query, suspiciously, arming the pistol again.

“Timid threats from a quashed maverick. I’m no harm to you, pet.” He holds his only palm out to you.

You take it and pull him upright to his feet. He passes your wallet to you with thick, grubby fingers and you surrender his bolt pistol in return, albeit reluctantly.

You shudder and gasp out, feeling the unrelenting burn around your prosthetic make itself known again; the adrenaline subsiding in your body.

“Quell your snivels. You remain unsullied. I'd garner that a win.” He says simply, noting your watery eyes. “He was nothing but a hungry brute.”

“Quite the hero, aren't you?” You remark with a scoff at his barbarous contempt towards you.

“Don’t mistake me for a gallant knight, I’m far from that. More of a superfluous hooligan, but I’m still a man with a mere iota of sympathy and respect for the superior species when they find themselves in trouble.” He eyes you carefully as you wibble about on your feet. “You're just a slip of a thing, why are you out so late wandering? Are you lost, little bird?”

“No. My shift… it ran over. This is my usual route home when there's no shuttle.”

“Do you often find yourself in trouble’s embrace?”

”Won’t be the first time, I'm sure.” You mutter. 

“Unfortunate. I hear a surge-five is well on the way. Best be homeward.” He remarks with a click of his lips as he looks up at the glowering sky. The heavy swell of a incoming storm predicted is approaching in from the horizon in a cluster of almost onyx clouds.

His scowl softens as he looks back at you still trying to process the whole incident and remaining a little unsteady on your legs. 

“I expect you to denounce the offer, but walking you back to your quarters would seem prudent, given the errant situation. I know I appear as a stranger to you, so I’ll respect your wishes if you decline.”

You don’t hear his words as you focus on remaining upright, trying to process the events. 

“Oi. Woman. What say you?” He questions again, bringing you back to him.

“I can mend your coat.” You offer, fuzzing back in and your eyes fall on the large gaping flap on his right shoulder. 

He looks down at the sleeve you nod to and a growl erupts from his lips at the tear. “That will be unnecessary.”

“Do you have another coat?”

“No.” He gruffs. 

“Then it’s necessary.” You assert. “The surge-five is predicted to be harsh.”

He simply nods and drops his hood, shaking his head fully out from under it. An aquiline nose cuts a sharp line across his face, accentuating the aura of strength and intensity that surrounds him. But oddly, a small, messy blonde coiffure sticks out against his hairline, stark amongst a sea of dark oil-slicked tufts.

“I'm not holding out much optimism at your skill. The hole is quite impossible to simply mend.” He observes. 

“You let me worry about my skill. I accept your offer of chivalry. It’s kind of you, thank you.” You say, with a pertinent nod. 

“I’m not kind, pet, but the assumption is appreciated nonetheless.”

“Kind enough to walk me home and save me from losing my wage.” You tuck your wallet back into your jacket. 

“I have enough on my conscience to reconcile with, let alone the thought of a woman of your calibre making it home in one piece.” He tucks the bolt pistol away inside his coat. 

“My calibre?” You baulk.

“I meant it as a compliment, of course. Pretty thing like you out here is bound to attract some attention.” He says, eyeing your stance.

"Why are you out here anyway?"

“Minding my own. What’s your name, friend?”

You tell him and he nods. “Ezra.” He introduces. “I’m perplexed by your intentions.” Ezra replies flatly. 

“All I offer is some tea and some respite from the incoming storm.” You say. 

“Do you open your home to every vagabond you meet?”

“Only the charming ones.” You remark with a snort. 

You’re convinced you see a grin turn up his lips. “No quid pro quo? Nothing is free, Birdie. Smart women like you, you know this.”

“I am smart. I offer you some food and drink and to patch up your coat, that’s all. I know very well you’re a stranger and could harbour ill intent despite this heroic facade you've presented.”  

“It’s no facade.” He says with a frown. 

“Good, because I have no qualms in putting a bolt in you should you try to turn on me, we clear?” You warn with a satisfied smirk. 

"Been there, done that." Ezra eyes his stump with a wry grin before he rolls his eyes dramatically at your stern look. "Clear."

“I have my own bolt pistol back at home.” You warn.

“Oh, I’ve no doubt. The fire in your belly serves warning well enough, Birdie. I wouldn’t dream of any chicanery.” 

“Then follow me, Ezra.” You say, with a brewing smile.

Your tiny, poorly provisioned apartment is nestled in a nondescript building on the outskirts of the city.

A walk there that has you both absorbed in a mutual silence that offers a strange comfort, akin to the satisfaction of picking at a scab. Ezra mostly keeps his hand in his pocket and side glances you occasionally with parted lips as though he’ll say something, but doesn’t. 

“Let me get you something for that.” You offer, as you note his knuckles when he takes them out of his pocket and pushes the rusted gate open for you.

“It’ll dry over soon enough.” He says, looking down at his bruised and bloodied fist.

“It’s cold and the winds are picking up.” You say, noting the ferocious sky churning overhead. “I’ll get the tea brewing. Come on up.”

“You’re not as frail as I first assumed. I must stop doing that.” Ezra mumbles as he looks you over.

“He took me by surprise. Had I been prepared, I might have thrown a hook or two.” You shrug. You note he hesitates behind you. 

“Pertaining to the circumstances of our meeting, perhaps you might want to be alone?” You can sense the trepidation hanging around him; he’s wary of you and it pulls at something inside your chest.

“Come up, Ezra.” You repeat, ignoring him. 

He lets go of the creaky gate behind him. “Far be it from me to deny a lady. Even if her taste is somewhat marred in misjudgement.”

“Something tells me I can trust you.”

“That would be your first mistake.” He assures. 

“Well, this evening might surprise us both.” You say, as he follows up the steps behind you.

You take your time, hand sliding up the railing as he walks beside you. With each step, you focus intently on the movements of your prosthetic limb, adjusting your gait to compensate for its artificial nature.

You weight bear on your right side, loading your foot and keep your momentum forward up the stairs. You wince as you feel it rub uncomfortably again. 

“Are you hurt?” Ezra asks as he examines your unhurried pace. 

“No.” You shake your head with a rueful smile as you carry on. 

The stairs, with their unforgiving surfaces and steep incline, pose a formidable obstacle, testing your resolve with each upward stride. The prosthetic, while marvellously engineered, lacks the finesse and flexibility of a natural limb, making each step a delicate balancing act between stability and control. The last thing you want to do is slip in front of him.

After you reach the eighth floor, slightly panting, he follows you round to the faded door of your apartment. 

“Cosy,” Ezra retorts as he's introduced to your small, cramped world. “It's not often I’m rendered without speech.” Stacks of clutter balance precariously in columns on every available surface.

“I like to collect things.” You say nonchalantly.

“I can see that.” He counters, blinking as he steps through cautiously. 

You hold your hand out expectantly for his coat and he hesitates. 

“I can’t patch it if you’re wearing it.” You sway.

He slips it off his shoulders and you try not to look at the long sleeve that flaps without a hand at the bottom of it on his right side. His sweatshirt is terribly frayed and holey, and his pants seem loose and ill-fitting.

Boots that are at least a size too big for him clomp around his feet. His appearance, although broad and foreboding, also hints at the gaunt and destitute. There’s a peculiar smell emanating from him now he’s taken off his coat. Something sweetly rotten. 

You beckon him through, tossing his heavy coat over your arm, and he follows you through to the living quarters; a stalwart room that overlooks the grimy city.

The air is thick with the scent of stale coffee and lingering incense spices, mingling with the faint hum of electronic devices scattered throughout the cluttered space. 

You switch on an air purifier and remove your scarf revealing your face to him fully as you instruct him to make himself comfortable in the ragged recliner.

You busy yourself in the small kitchenette, chinking cups and getting out a tin of med supplies for his hand. You throw a couple of packets of freeze dry in the warmer and set a timer. 

On the splintered coffee table in the centre of the room, stacks of dog-eared books and half-empty mugs vie for space with an assortment of trinkets and knick-knacks thrown clumsily over it.

He leaves through the pages of a hefty book on mining. “Light reading material?” Ezra queries as he tosses the book down. 

“Call it a tempered curiosity.” You say, coming through with the cups and the tin shoved under your arm. 

“Curiosity killed the feline.”

“Yeah, but it has nine lives.” You state boldly to him and he smirks. 

“I could tell you all you need to know. Was my profession, a man’s work.” Ezra explains as he takes the mug from you. The heat immediately absorbs into his fingers. 

“You're a Prospector?” You ask, with raised eyebrows. 

“I was. Not much of anything now.” His lips downturn into the rim of the mug.

“Where are you from, Earth? You look the type.” You ask him, settling slowly and rigidly into a rickety chair opposite a sewing machine in the corner.

You lay out his coat on your lap and reach for a pin cushion. It smells musty and wild, like the outdoors. 

“From that suppurate shit-hole? No. Sorry to disappoint.” He smirks.

“Where then? Lau? Your accent hints at relations from a primitive Earth.” You probe.

“You seem well acquainted with it.” He says, reaching for the med tin and flipping it open. He tears at the packet of an antiseptic pad with his teeth, spitting the paper out that sticks to his lip. 

“I read.” You smile as you regard him.

A rugged moustache adorns his upper lip, its edges slightly frayed, combined with a shadow of facial hair, adding to an air of menace that might initially catch one's attention. His presence in the small, dimly lit room feels both enigmatic and imposing.

If you had to guess, you propose him to be within his early fortieth, to forty-third rotation, or thereabouts. His skin carries a layer of grime, a testament to the rigours of his endeavours. 

“The memory of my origin is hazy at best.” Ezra shrugs, as he presses his knuckles against the moist swab he lays out on the coffee table. He hisses with the sting. “Home hasn't been a concept that I’m all too familiar with. Although I’m informed it was blue like Earth was before it was ravaged. It's been a long time since I was stationed in permanence. My bones have always been restless.” He leans back in the recliner and sips at the fragrant tea. “This tea… it harbours memories.”

“Regale me.” You entice, as you thread the bobbin on your machine. 

He licks round his lips savouring the citrus taste. “Have you ever ventured to Kerulon?”

“No.” You shake your head.

“A pisser of a planet, why would you? I got waylaid there once, on my fuknugt ship. Stranded for a time, which seems to be the continual narrative for my story, but I digress. It’s a planet on the edge of The Fringe, known for its vast expanses of sand and scorching twin suns that never set. Not much there at all except for a slow, agonising death. But as luck would have it, amidst the dunes that stretched endlessly towards the horizon, I sought refuge in a humble desert oasis. A rare oasis of life amidst the harsh landscape, it was tended to by a group of nomadic travellers known as the Sand Dwellers. They offered me a generous cup of their signature orange tea - a brew infused with spices native to Kerulon's desert flora, I’ve come to suspect. Your tea reminds me of that cup of salvation.”

Ezra sips another mouthful loudly and hums with his eyes closed.

“I got it from the marketplace.” You chirp. 

“Really? How uncanny… And where exactly did you procure that?” His pointer finger, stubby and long points to the glassy jewel on your shelf by the grimy window. 

“I found it.” You shrug.

He scoffs as he approaches and reaches for it as though drawn under a spell. “Birdie, do you know what this is?”

“A pretty rock.” You say with a lazy mirth.

He stands and fondles the faceted cabochon inside his big palm, eyeing the blood amber middle. “Aurelac. You’re sitting on an abundance of riches.”

“I’m well aware of Aurelac and it’s worth on the black market.” You press on the pedal under the table, and the coat slides through your machine fluidly. 

Ezra blinks, bewildered. “You know it’s worth, and yet you’ve abdicated it as a paperweight?"

"Mhm."

"Such a curious creature, unable to be bribed by gems in abundance. You must be the only one not to be swayed by the allure. And that’s a rarity.”

“I don’t need riches. If it matters so much to you, you take it.” You simply say with earnest eyes. 

Ezra baulks and struggles to form words.

“You Prospectors are all the same. Vultures just picking at the sinew on the bone. I’ve yet to meet a Prospector who didn’t live up to the reputation of harbouring an unsatisfied greed. You’ve killed for that.” You look at the gem wrapped inside his whopping palm with disdain.

“I have, and indulged in deeds far worse.” Ezra nods with a sigh through his enrapturing verbosity. But also a drained voice that indicates he’s just plain sick of this shit now, sick of it all.

Ezra smirks, bearing teeth and a corrupt murmur slips out. “Your assumption is emphatically sound, little bird. It's like a disease, the siren song of Aurelac knows no bound or reason. A sane man would always be swayed to harvest and reap. I couldn't count on all of our combined digits the number of times I’ve made lewd choices in spite of my perseverance to merely covet the riches that the Kevva forsaken moon bequeaths under her ample bosom. I've spent a long time there suckling at the teat. It only pains me now to ponder my very justifications for it to begin with, purging the bowels of that fecund wood…” He trails off grinding his teeth and sighing as he examines the unspoiled gem shining in his hand. 

As you work, Ezra's voice pierces the silence once more, each syllable laden with a poignant blend of resignation and acceptance. 

“There was a time when spitting off the edge of the world was an arrogant riot; to pillage and plunder with luck and careless abandon, but now with spirited discourse, I’ve settled into a freefall back into the harsh shunt of The Fringe. Some of us have the proclivity for greatness, while most do not. I fear I’ve become the latter.”

You look up at him and his face bears the worn lines and creases of hard experience, etched deep by the sun and wind, giving him a weathered and world-weary appearance.

His prominent nose adds to the pastiche of mystery and arcane belligerence that hovers about his person. A scruffy beard adorns his jawline, adding to his rugged and no-nonsense demeanour.

Oily hair streaked with grey at the temples, falls in disarray around his forehead, but what catches the eye most is the striking patch of blonde amidst the darker strands at the roots.

It seems like the evidence of a possible birthmark born in the hair line, or could just be a fashion choice exalted in bad taste. You make a mental note to ask him later. But it adds a unique touch to his plotline in a twist of his devious character as you ponder him and his story.

“Such a beauty,” Ezra remarks, observing you as he twists the jewel around his thick, calloused fingers. “It’ll fetch you a good sum.” He simply returns the gem to the shelf, his eyes lingering on it long after it leaves his grip. 

Your eyes graze down to the missing appendage, trying to fill in the gaps on his pages, as you place pins in your teeth. 

“Ah.” He notices your lingering gaze. “Go on, ask away.” Articulating around his Southern inflection with deep flutters of his tongue, it scatters out of it like jagged diamonds from the mines of Ajaxia.

You smile. “Nothing to ask.”

“I’m not foul to you like this?” You sense that he loathes it. Wired bitter with the loss. 

Despite the initial challenges and the occasional stares from strangers when your limp overtakes you when your prosthetic becomes unbearable to bear full weight on, you refuse to be confined by societal expectations or limitations.

You throw yourself into mundane life with unparalleled gusto, pursuing your work with a fervour that could inspire those around you if they weren’t so ignorant and assuming. A trait that might only embolden Ezra too, the more time he spends with you, if he cares to.

The thought of revealing your commonality with him rests idle on your tongue however. 

Yet, beneath your fearless exterior, you can harbour moments of doubt and insecurity. There are days when the weight of your prosthetic feels heavier than usual, and the whispers of self-doubt threaten to overshadow your resolve. You recognise it too, in his dark eyes right now, fierce, but also harbouring that self-loathing and defeated eroding.

It’s different for you, you don’t miss what you’ve never had, you only know a life like this, but for him? To have had it and then lost it, you can feel the decayed emotion that it evokes pouring from him, even if he never says the words out loud.  

You stand, approaching him with his coat patched and he raises his eyebrows. “Far from it. We might have a common depth.” You mutter. 

“I fail to see anything we share in common. However, you have magic in you, no doubt.” He says, as he admires his mended coat. “Witchcraft.” He smirks, running his fingers over the neat stitches.

“You have a way with words.” You smile, reaching for your cup.  

“A flair, so I’m told. Thank you.” He says earnestly to you, eyes big and round. 

“I work in the textile factory, my job.” You explain as you disappear into the kitchen when the beeper from the warmer goes off. 

“I was good with both my hands too, once,” he surmises bleakly. “What meat is this?” Ezra enquires, chewing slowly to savour the peculiar tang from the heated freeze dry meal that you’ve thrust at him with a spoon.

“Trog. At least that's what I tell myself. Makes it go down easier.” You remark.

“Never look a gift trog in the mouth, I suppose that’s good counsel.” Ezra shrugs and shovels in more, steadying the packet in his crotch for support; the warmth of it seeping into his thigh muscles and warming him pleasantly. 

“I’ve some Bitz Bars if you'd prefer?” 

He shakes his head. “If I never see a Bitz Bar again it’ll be too soon.”

The brief silence between you is disturbed only by the battering swell outside that has increased in its voracity in the last hour, and the soft chews and gulps as you both devour your meal in ensconced silence. 

It’s a harmonious, off-key beat that serves as the background chime to your dining encounter. Discreet in your mutual voyeurism as you eat and steal curious, yet wary glances at one another. 

You’re sitting at the small table with your sewing machine, whilst Ezra masticates on the recliner, albeit much slower, and negotiates a spoon in a hand that’s not ambidextrous in the slightest. 

“Tell me where you learned your skill.” Ezra prompts around a spin cycle of meat. 

“I have many. You’ll need to be particular.” You finger a newly discovered hole on your kneecap idly and frown at it. You can see a peep of leather from the buckle tarnished underneath.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, pet.” Ezra smirks, as he chews through his mouthful and runs his tongue around his teeth dislodging pieces of meat; his dark eyes flashing to you briefly. “Specifically your skills with a needle,” he waggles his stump at you and his sleeve flaps about and knocks his pouch over. “Fucking tarnation!” He mutters, pissed. 

You get up pliantly to assist him as he gathers the packet with quick snaps of his fingers. He spoon-scoops the contents off of his thigh, plopping the mounded heaps back into it, feeling the juice and gravy soak into his pants in a small, irritating patch.

“My grandmother taught me.” You say, dabbing at his thigh with a cloth.

He nods at you whilst continuing to alternate between cleaning himself of the spilled grains and meat, and eating it with good measure.

“Commit to a deal with me.” Ezra prompts after he swallows down the gristle.

“What kind of a deal?” You question, narrowly.

“I’ll tell you my story in its entirety and you regale me with yours in equal measure. Omit no detail too small.” Ezra declares.

“There’s really not much to tell. My life has not been spent roaming the Interplanetary digging up sparkly gems.” You remark. 

“You sound bitter.”

“My hindrances keep me here.” You sigh. 

“What hindrances?” He cocks his head at you. 

“Tell me your story, Ezra.” You deflect as you settle back in the chair to eat. 

Ezra smiles exaltedly. He relaxes back into the recliner after discarding the packet, whilst you listen keenly as he recounts how he came to be on the wretched moon with a group of like-minded individuals - rapscallions, as he refers to them - who were an entourage of the roguish sort.

Ragtag acquaintances he’d collected during his time prospecting many planets and satellites across the Interplanetary, but seemingly coming up short until The Green was set in his sights during the heights of the Aurelac rush. 

Of course, man’s greed always complicates even the basics of well interpreted relations, and soon he found himself without his ship or his crew; most of them deciding to pick one another off over petty quarrels, whilst the successful of the rogues took to leaving the moon. And Ezra was stranded with nothing but a serious, yet mysterious being known only as Number Two, who filled the role of henchman to Ezra’s own smart, callous wit at genial leadership. 

He reiterates to you, several times, that Number Two was not much of a conversationalist, much to his imminent dismay, so when he happened upon Damon, he informs you of the relief he felt to copulate wildly in words exchanged with a stranger, even if they weren't pleasantries.

It’s apparent to you, before he’s started to share his whimsical story, that Ezra has a rapt knack in kinking the tendrils of censorious intelligence and a dry sagacity that often blurs the lines of sarcasm and menace. Flowery, Southern treble clefs dance off of his tongue in a verbal, bewitching thrall, playing their music around your head in kaleidoscopic wonder. 

The things he'd done, the things Ezra he'd lost, are all painted from his cracked lips for you to see and experience, unscathed in the most exquisite details and colour. Feeling as though you’re there with him by his side and witnessing the altered course into complete annihilation. He was sure he’d be abandoned by Cee in a warped juxtaposition that, even his attempts at atoning for his previous sins couldn’t seem to cleanse him of. He iterates wistfully that he should've seen it coming. 

Ezra finalises the story with her gallant return and bringing him home rather than being left there to perish.

He’s notably candid when he speaks of his love for women - plural. He shares vulgar trysts about his many lovers on Luxillion, mostly whores whom he paid good credits for before he settled off on his wanderings, but who won't even entertain him now that he;s no longer whole. He mentions he occasionally dabbled freely in the delights of flesh with a fellow Y chromosome too; a flouted omission that makes your pores saturate at the outlandish, yet scandalous thought of it. His laying partners are of no prejudice. 

Ezra is regimented in never speaking of an unrequited love nor a love that holds permanence inside of his beating organ of clogged ventricles. The closest Ezra has come to feeling an emotion akin to the desire to protect another is with the bolshie whippersnapper named Cee, who had saved him from his fate on The Green.

And then you, this very evening. 

“What happened to her?” You enquire. 

“Your guess is as good as mine. I woke up in a med bay and haven’t heard a whisper since. Skipped out with a sack full of gems. Good for her.” He remarks. 

You watch as he winces and scowls down at his stump.

“Are you alright?” You query.

“Just an irritation" You watch as his lips curl back over his teeth. "Sometimes it… it feels as if it’s still there. Sears. Feels like I can still wiggle my fingers, the most peculiar thing.”

Nursing the aggravation is made small, as Ezra stares out at the window with a watery look making his scleras shine and the cords in his neck tense. Trying to push it to the back of his mind to be recycled into some distorted relief.

“That’s quite the story you shared.” You say. 

“It’s but mine to keep. And now yours too, I guess.” Ezra sighs and winces again. “Do you happen to have anything for the burn?” He asks, feeling the pain grow and mutate from his wrangled nerves into his veins.

“I might have a tranq.”

“Bliss.” He says as you get up. He notices you take a moment to regain your balance, a slight limp to your gait as you make your way forward. 

A large explosion-like sound is heard outside and you turn towards the window as the lights go out in your dingy apartment.

“Kevva’s wrath!” You gasp, a silhouette lit up by the purple lightning that rips terribly across the sky.

“Did something calamitous occur?” Ezra asks, standing too.

Aggressive thunder is heard rolling in once more as the rain pelts harder until it’s a tiresome skirmish battering the panes.

“Looks like a strike hit the fuse box. Whole District is out.” You say, hovering by the window.

“Perhaps it was a good call, your invitation.” Ezra says, a small smile unfolding on his lips. 

“Mm. The rain is often acidic.” You retreat to the kitchen and find some medicine and some candles. Lighting a couple on the coffee table, you take a hold of Ezra’s sleeve after passing him the pill. 

“Not a tranq unfortunately, but it might take the edge off.” You begin to roll his sleeve upwards. 

“What are you doing?” He queries.

“Making it easier.” You say, softly. You pin it in place, and then fetch a spool and needle from your sewing table. 

He watches, eyelashes fanned across his cheekbones as he stares down at your fingers working around the new hem of his sleeve you've created.

“I think I’ve seen you before... Around the District, down by the river.” You begin, carefully as you start to sew the sleeve in place. "You live there, don't you?"

He immediately bristles. “I don’t require charity. I’ll take my leave.”

“Ezra. You have nowhere to go. We both know that. It’s a dangerous night with the surge-five. Drink your xanadu tea and stay. You can take my bed.”

He sighs as his eyes shy away. “My predicament since my return from the Green has rendered me… unlucky, it’s true. There isn’t a place or a sympathetic ear here for people like me, and so my place is with shelter under the bridge. But I won’t spoil your evening with my dreary plight.”

“We can share in the dreariness.” You smirk, looking around at the dim confines of your apartment gloaming with waxy candlelight. 

He sighs again as he watches you thread neat stitches to keep the sleeve in place. 

“I can’t force you to stay. But I’ll sleep better knowing you’re safe rather than outside in that. I’ll make do on the recliner. I insist.” You say as you glance at the lightning streaking across the sky.

“Kindness offered to a scoundrel. You are something, Birdie.” 

“It’s only gratitude for what you did in the alley. We’re even.” 

"If I were to take you up on your offer, I will sleep here. You won't be denied your bed."

"There's no argument, Ezra. You'll take the bed and we'll say no more about it." You confirm.

“You trust me fictitiously.” 

“No, I trust you.” You correct him. 

“You know nothing of me. I could take your treasure and run whilst you sleep.”

“So do it. I already told you I care not for it.” You say, as you thread the stitches carefully. 

“Why don't you cash it in? You could improve your living quarters.” He suggests. 

“My living quarters are fine as they are.” You reply with a frown. 

He looks at you curiously, deep eyes burning into you as you find them with your own. 

“I don’t care about the material things.” 

“Pet, your dwelling is stacked with material things.” He grins. “Look at all this treasured garbage.”

“It’s gotten a bit out of hand admittedly. But it's mostly worthless.” 

“What is worth it's weight to you?” He enquires, boldly. 

“Life. Connection…" You catch his eyes. "Love.”

He scoffs as he brings his cup back to his lips and swallows the pill. 

“Immaterial things.” You say, as you notice his gaze heading towards the Aurelac gem again. 

“Before I left for the Green, the only material possession I owned was my ship. A Testing Screamer.”

“Fancy.” You remark, unimpressed. 

“No, she was a patched up shit bucket of rust, with a channel rat infestation, but I worked her hard. She got the job done. As I recounted, words and metal flew amongst my crew and they left me there to seek my death without her. I came back with far less.” He says, glancing down at his missing arm. “So, I relish the importance of the immaterial, even if you assume otherwise of me.”

“I assume nothing, Ezra.” You confirm. “There. You’re all patched up. You’re free to go into the wily night if you're so adamant.” You wince at the chafing burn around your knee joint.

You’re keen to rid yourself of the prosthetic, but hesitate whilst he’s here. You don’t mean to be prickly, but it’s a burn that’s starting to irritate.

“I’ve offended you.”

“No.” You shake your head with a faint smile offered. “I’ve been really grateful for your company, actually. It's been nice to converse with someone.”

“Do you feel lonely, pet?” Ezra questions out of the blue. 

You turn to face him, your knee knocking against his and you wince. “All the time.” You answer honestly.

“I find it hard to accept that you cloister yourself here alone each cycle.” 

“Why?”

“Because you're indeed bewitching.”

His hand is felt on your waist, gently squeezing, and you stop him as he reaches your thigh. 

“Too fast?” Ezra queries, reading your eyes carefully. 

“No.” You smile. “But…” You sigh with a steady gulp and then take his hand, hesitating before you place it on your artificial calf just past your knee. 

He immediately raises his eyebrows with a crooked smirk as he feels not soft flesh under your pants when he squeezes, but a hard shell. He knocks against it, bewildered. 

“You come with secrets,” he hisses jovially. 

“Missing pieces.” You correct. 

“As do I.” He says as your eyes fall to his stump barely poking out of the rolled up sleeve now. “Tell me your story,” he murmurs hauntingly.

He begins inking soft kisses into your collarbone and you don’t stop his forwardness. Instead you close your eyes and relish the feel of the warm, tender contact offered.

“No story. I was simply born this way.” You sigh, feeling his lips burn on your skin. Your fingers run themselves through his oily nape and scritch into his scalp. 

“Then there’s no less of you to love, pet.” Ezra groans, looking up at you. “A simple man would be worthy of your affections, even if just for a night?” 

“Perhaps.” You smirk.

“Perhaps? Here you sit like Kevva pushed you out her womb for me, perfectly moulded from clay, and you say perhaps?” 

You simply smirk as he looks at you, trying to figure you out. 

“I’m not perfect.” You say, your eyes averting away. 

“I’ll be the judge of that. I’d like to see you bare.” He says, and you know immediately what he means. 

You sigh out deeply and nod. “You too.”

“Birdie-”

“You. Too.” You sway. “Let me see you, Ezra.”

He watches as you stand and unzip your pants. You notice his eyes lingering on your centre for a moment, hidden beneath your bland underwear, but then his eyes trail down your left thigh to your knee where the buckles meet your skin.

You unbuckle your prosthetic without any meekness at all, leaning on his shoulder for support as he wraps his only arm around you, offering balance.

“I've got you, pet.”

You let it clatter to the floor and sit down in his lap, straddling him as his fingers tentatively brush over your revealed skin.

He, however, gulps as his fingers linger on the hem of his sweatshirt.

“Can I help you?” You ask him, and he shakes his head, pulling the offending item off clumsily and revealing his stump to you as his sweatshirt plops beside him.  

“Beautiful,” he says, observing the smooth skin of your ungrown limb. You shudder as his fingers sweep delicately around and across it.  

“Likewise,” you say, stroking down his arm to where it stops into a knot of twisty scars.

“Two peas in a dreary pod,” Ezra says, hooked nose brushing over yours. 

“I don’t like peas.” You chuckle. 

“Another commonality,” he smirks.

He watches as you reach forward behind him and take a small jar from the shelf. You push it into his hand as you open the lid and begin to scoop out some of the waxy salve inside. 

The balm, infused with cooling agents and healing properties, provides instant relief to your inflamed skin with a comforting warmth; soothing the rawness that bears the brunt of the day's chafing from your prosthetic.

He inhales the scent, lifting the jar to his nose and hums at the fresh, earthy aroma. 

“Homemade.” You clarify. 

“More potions from my talented sorceress.” Ezra smirks. “May I?”

You nod, holding the jar for him as he scoops out a small dollop, and rubs it between his thick fingers until the consistency turns thin.

“Tingly,” he says in wonder.

He runs it gently around your skin, rounding the circumference and across the calloused welts and blisters, soothing and massaging gently. 

“That feel good?” He queries with a bewitching smile all of his own.

"So good, Ezra." You nod with a breathy hum and he watches as you lean forward and kiss his stump gently, mouthing over the fibrous knots and welts. 

“Your mouth is Kevva sent,” he groans as he watches you.

You run your tongue over it, kissing up his shoulder and tasting the salt of his neck. Tasting him there as he fondles and rubs your knee gently, fingers slick with the balm. 

“Your ministrations, although kind, are wasted.” He gasps. “I’m not a man that can be tamed. I fear it's been too long that I won’t be gentle.” Ezra warns. 

“Neither will I.” You growl as you pull him to you, teeth tugging on his lips.

He engulfs you wholly; his hand swamping your back for support as you crush him towards you. His tongue slithers into your mouth and you suck on it, gasping as you feel his blunt nails rake up your back over your shirt. 

“Here?” He pants around your succulent mouth. “Or the comfort of your chambers?”

“Here. There. I don’t care. I just want you, Ezra.” You groan, your body tingling and sweating.

You squeal in delight as he stands with you abruptly, his sole arm keeping you wound tight around his body as he steps into your bedroom.

“I may only have one arm, but you're safe in it.” He reassures you by gripping you tight. 

“Never doubted it.” You say, nuzzling into the salted musk of his neck as you cling on around it.

He twinkles as he smirks at you; those dark eyes regarding you with a controlled enthral, left to marinate spicily in your thoughts and on the fine hairs of your arms. 

Outside, the sky growls, bearing its teeth as Ezra lays you on the bed. He watches you unbutton your shirt and pull off your panties, revealing yourself fully bare in all your flesh and graces to him.  

His eyes roam over the contours of your body, taking in the shape of your tummy, your hips, the swell of your breasts. The way your right leg curls up and the way your left, stopping at the knee, moves with a seductive fluidness to it just like the other.

Your entire body is his to freely claim, to roam unbidden. Slick pussy to drown in, to worship at the altar.

He's never been a good man, undeserving of the fruit you bear freely to him now as he licks his salivating lips. But you make him feel good; a small, insidious voice convincing him he’s unworthy is quashed inside his mind, silenced blissfully as you beckon him forward and allow him to touch, to explore.

He’s marvelled by his own restraint, wanting nothing more than to tear into you - pull you apart and put you back together again. Yet he’s rendered docile, eager to draw long, haunting moans out of you as he tastes and feels each of them, taking his sweet, glorious time instead.

“You’re so…” He fails to find the right word in his mental thesaurus to do it justice. "I want nothing more than to whelve myself inside of your tight, hot cunt right now." Ezra sighs, staring at your slick centre, an obvious tent growing in his pants. “But first, we must discuss logistics."

You giggle looking up at him. “Fuck logistics, just get over here and fuck me.”

He shakes his head in disbelief at you, spread out before him and he swears he’s never seen anything more beautiful. 

“Can you ride me?” He kneels on the bed, pink lacing his cheeks. “It’s easier if you can, my balance is often maligned. A chin to the nose might be an unpleasant douse to the fire.” 

“I can. I might need you to support me if we go hard.” You nod. 

“I can do whatever you need.” Ezra smirks crookedly. "Slow, fast... hard."

“What do you need?” You ask him, reaching for his face and planting kisses over it.

He smells wildly acrid, a build up of sweat and grime from the city has sunk into his flesh, but you’re undeterred as your mouth runs over his skin. Your cunt is so fucking wet just inhaling the stagnant, earthy hidrosis of him; beads of your slick running out of you in a delectable tickle.

“I need you to sit on my face, pet.” Ezra instructs you through a strained grunt, his lips curling up over his teeth as he helps position you above him. 

You lower yourself down onto his waiting tongue, holding onto the bed railings. His arm is firmly around you, as assured. 

He licks burning acid on your pussy, dissolving you down to the chalk of your bones as he tastes you; groaning into your folds hungrily. You grind on his mouth, chasing that blooming high that tingles and leaves you clawing in his hair desperately as he tongue fucks you gloriously.

You're basking in the pure pleasure of his mouth and tongue lapping at your pussy, all consuming and euphoric. Losing yourself to that dreamy build up of tension that arches your back and curls your toes.

And just when you think you can't take it anymore, suddenly all that tension is released and pulses throughout your body. You fall into a zen state of absolutely nothing - just white, hot pleasure coursing through your body.

You forget everything. Your name. The aches from your prosthetic. You even forget to breathe. He’s taken your body and mind to this exquisite place simply with his mouth and lets you fly and float around up in there until you come down, and then he’ll build you up again and again.

“I could lick you for turns, pet.” He snuffles through a satiated smile.

It makes you melt into him, crumpled like paper. Burnt up and falling ashy onto his skin. His stump rests against your thigh, prodding gently against it as his hand sweeps down your back and grips onto your ass, pushing your cunt further onto his mouth.

You move your hips, writhing against his tongue as he licks up onto your clit and you cry out in relief at how good it feels. 

“You taste divine,” he muffles around your sticky lips. 

He pushes his head up, lips squelching around to get right in as your thighs ripple and shake as he brings you to the edge once more. You're standing on the precipice of the universe and looking down into it's swamping, glittery depth.

You rest back on your hands, your fingers squeezing around the meat of his thighs as his one hand blazes a journey over your belly and towards your breasts where he squeezes and massages the left in his grip. His eyes stare up at you and you stare down, lips parting as your moans increase. 

His tongue is precisely erratic, licking, sucking and flicking in all the places he can get to to draw your orgasm out and make it last. A kaleidoscope of colours stream in the room, their waltz blinding you as they swirl and merge. You can feel it all over your body, the heat, the burning as you tense and coil. 

When you come again, it feels like you're floating once more; your body slack and wibbly as you gush into his waiting mouth. And as much as you could let him do this, for indeed many a turn, you want him in your mouth too.  

You move with ease, comfortable to slide across the sheets gracefully and with speed that makes him grin. Pulling his pants down, you see him in all of his thick, weeping glory. 

"Fuck, Ezra..." You murmur at the sight of him.

“This is how you make me feel.” Ezra pants as you stare at the hard swell of him almost lunging out his groin at you.

His cock feels imposing; heavy and smooth. A flushed pink head swollen and leaking profusely. You feel how hard he is, how he’s acutely dripping for you; strings of pre-cum coming away in your palm as he brings it up to his mouth and licks it away whilst eyeing you.

And you can’t explain what it does to your body, let alone your brain, at how wet he is for you. And hard, so fucking hard that it bulges angrily; a taut, thick vein popping off on the side.

“Take me to paradise, Birdie.” Ezra hums, as he watches you slither between his legs and take him in your mouth. 

Ezra's eyes roll into the back of his head and he bites his lip until it bleeds copper rust on his tongue. He makes some intangible sound as he looks down at his fat cock sucked slowly and deeply into your mouth.

He brushes your hair away with shaky fingers, unsure and unfamiliar with such a gentle movement that he orchestrates, thumb stroking over your cheek.

“You can take it deeper than that. I know you can. Let me slide all the way down in there. Feel me in your belly.” Ezra grunts. 

He bucks his hips as you swallow, your fingers scratching into the soft, wiry hairs in his groin and over his belly. He fills your throat and you feel him twitch when you suck harder. 

He pulls your head back and tells you to spit on it. Smirking, you do as he instructs, and he watches as the globule decorates him in crystal strings.

“More,” Ezra keens, as you spit and drool over his cock further.

You’re panting for it; desperate to have him inside of your mouth again as he keeps it close enough, but just out of reach from your lips - teasing with that crooked grin lacing down at you.

But then, he finally lets you have it again, and is enthralled as you take him in greedily like you’ve been starved.

Humming in satisfaction, you suck him down and swallow deep, feeling him prod at the back of your throat as he guides and controls you with his hand knotted in your hair.

His grunts are felt on the end of your clit, his satisfaction tingling all through your body and you get off on getting him off; grinding your hips against the comforter on the bed as you suck, chasing your own release. Groaning out around his cock when the sheet catches your clit deliciously.

You pull him out of your mouth in a wet slurp and begin kissing around his groin; each little kiss peppering him and absorbing into his skin, leaving further fiery brands as you go.

You haven’t lost interest in his dick, still grasping him in your hand and running it over him, but you’re interested in all of him now, want all of him.

He’s drawn into your eyes as they look up at him, as you work your way across his abdomen and leave his hand to weaken inside of your scalp. It drops to your jaw as he helps you slither up his body and kisses you.

He’s surprisingly gentle, explorative and leaves no part of you untouched by his lips as he’s only too willing to return the favour. He lays back, his body weakening as you sit on his cock; your hands running through his hair, massaging his scalp as his head lolls back and he loses himself to the feel of your nails scratching through it.

You’re squirming and pushing yourself down on his length.

“Oh, you want it all, huh? Take it. Fuck my cock, pet. It’s yours.” He husks.

“You feel so good.” You whine, pulling on his hips as you work. 

“I'm going to make a mess of you when I come.” He grunts.  

“I want you to fill me up, Ezra.”

“Flood you,” he groans. “Fuck, I want to ruin you, but I want you like this too. It’s confounding.” He pants.

"Plenty of time to ruin me," you groan.

The infinite kaleidoscope only intensifies, becoming more vivid. Bursts of colour explode from behind your eyelids and are felt warming you all over as his cock nudges against the deepest part inside of you. 

“Ezra!” 

You feel his mouth roaming your chest. Sucking your nipples between his teeth as he alternates, pulling on them, teasing them hard; the tiny spots around your areolas standing and tightening too. Little pleasurable bumps that each have their own nerve centre that make your pussy twinge and drip like a leaky faucet over his cock as you ride.

Soon you flop forward onto him, your breasts hitting the hardness of his chest. That delicious pull deep inside your belly makes itself known. That tight, knotting before you’ll snap back and release.

His pants increase and those growls start to haunt. He’s close. It’s in the way he grabs and paws at you more sloppy now, like he can barely hold on anymore.

All it takes is an enticing whisper from you, telling him to come, to let go, to fill you up, and his teeth sink into your shoulder.

He groans and grunts deeply, hips stuttering and candid whimpers leaving his breath. All the atoms of his being spilling into you, thick and warm as he drips out of your cunt over his thighs.

And Ezra doesn’t let you go. He keeps you there, kissing you, glued to his chest, fitted around him like a perfect puzzle piece. 

The surge-five still roars outside, but seemingly less consequential. 

The acidic rains have moved on and the window of the bedroom is speckled with only a few streaks of wayward drops that the wind blows in squiggly lines around it; the tail ends of shooting stars before they die out completely. 

A little snuffle beside your ear focuses your attention on Ezra, still asleep beside you in the middle of the night; his stumped arm poking out of the bobbled blanket, and his other still curled under your back and ending around your waist.

His fingers twitch occasionally, as he jostles and flinches in his sleep, still branding on the skin on your navel. You wonder what he dreams about to make him shudder so.

Your head tilts to examine his face in the darkness. The slow roaming from the blonde tuft so stark in his chocolate hairline, to the way in which his eyelids flutter restlessly as his eyeballs move under them as though something is alive. 

He pelts your face with light breaths that are warm and hardened, and yet it’s a scent that doesn’t putrefy as you allow yourself to be bathed in the warmth of them.

You refute anything that’ll disturb your peace right now, such as the dull urge to urinate, instead cocooning yourself further into this moment right here in Ezra’s sleep laden grip.

He’s unlike any other man you’ve ever met and it leaves you breathless as you examine his face whilst he sleeps beside you.

Thick eyelashes adorn his swollen, sealed lids and a wiry scar is a slapdash carving below his left eye socket, leaving your imagination to ponder how he obtained it.

A thick velvet slug, matted with sweat and the residue of your slick, clings to his top lip, whilst the rest of his chin and neck is garnished with unruly stubble that's in the throes of growing in length and sparsity in hodgepodge greying patches. 

His lips, pale pink and fuller on the bottom set, are chapped and sore, much like your own as you continue to gnaw on them whilst you mull the events over of how this enigma came to be in your sheets this night.

“See something you like, Birdie?” Those lips move with a small gruff tone.

“Merely spectating.” You reply back, softly. 

“Spectating? I think the term is voyeurism.” Ezra smiles with his eyes still closed, and the creases around them grow in number and folds. 

You smile and Ezra can hear the moisture in your mouth click around your teeth at such a close proximity.

“Your lament protests about sleeping on the recliner were just a bunch of who shot John, weren't they?” He croons into the skin of your neck, dipping his head as he stretches. You feel him inhale deeply against your skin.  

Ezra wonders briefly if he’s suffered another loss, for his left arm is numb with the weight of you resting on it. He wiggles his fingers bringing them back to life and feels your skin warm against it under the blanket.

“Your practicality has been lampshaded,” he whispers. “Tell me, did you plot this tryst into fruition?” He chuckles. 

“One would think this situation is amusing to you,” you say.

“It’s ah… something.” That brazen itch turns from ghastly mania into a settling excitement, an accepted wave of rapture that shakes his bones at your warmth and proximity; the blood in his body rushing towards the end of his cock at breakneck speeds.

“I fear I won’t be able to resist sordid temptation much longer.” Ezra repeats, a dirty grunt escaping through his strained voice.

“Then don’t. Defile me at your whim.”

The sound of his haughty chuckle is both harmonious and husky at the same time as it reverberates from somewhere deep in his chest cavity. Ezra is most attractive when he smiles and laughs, you think. It completely changes his stern, scowled face.

Perfect, puffy lips crooking up into his cheeks revealing a dimple that draws the eye in; a smile that could convince the sun into imploding. But his smile has dissipated and those dark eyes are prying into places they ought not to pry again.

"I'm going to annihilate you, pet." He whispers, grazing his lips against your own. "You think you can take it?"

You know you’re stupid to think you can do this; nudge him to the precipice and encourage as he jumps off it willingly. Coax him to show you the most depraved, abominable parts of himself and not have some repercussions come and bite you on the ass for it.

See him unleashed fully; the worlds across the Interplanetary cracking open and their suns splitting into two as he savages and ravages.

But you want him despite all the swill and misfortune; you want him to make you fall apart - to totally obliterate you. Use you as mere clay for his own twisted satisfactions as he leaves imprints and eternal marks on you that’ll blister and bleed.

The way he touches you, the way he doesn't shy away from your body leaves you wanting for the affection he drowns you in. He’s your missing piece making you whole. He dilutes your pain with his own making it bearable. 

You shudder at the feel of his fingers softly stroking over your half leg; a ghostly touch that you acutely zone into. His eyes are still brooding into yours. 

"Break me." You urge.

“I can smell your sweet stink all over me." Ezra grunts as his fingers slip down the between your ass cheeks, leaving a devastation of goose pimples in their wake.

You rest your clipped knee onto his hip, opening you up for him. You bite your lip, gnawing frantically on the bottom as the path takes a delectable turn towards your cunt. 

Your head swims; the hairs on your body and nipples coming alive. Feeling high and giddy, balanced on that precarious cusp of passing out, but not quite managing to do so.

You breathe out slowly as his fingers pause; the burn of them felt deep inside your core already as you clench around nothing, and the throb of your clit aches and prickles with a pang of eager want. 

Ezra’s gaging; reading your reactions and fine tuning into that solid will that you’ve been dismantling slowly over the course of the last turn spent with him.

He knows, for it’s ambushed his own impenetrable walls too. 

He feels your hand clamp around his cock as the tension in your body pulverises at any remaining restraint you have. He strokes over your mound towards your clit, and as soon as he touches it - that hard, pulsing nub - you both groan out in unison. His fingers push into your pussy, slow and thick as you gasp.

Your other hand fists inside his hair as your face draws nearer to his own, your eyes zoning in on his lips that are wet as he licks them.

“I will destroy you.” Ezra breathes, admitting defeat. “I have nothing to give you, pet.”

“I don’t want what credits can buy from you.” You moan as his fingers swipe over your clit. “You see me.” 

“I do. I see all of you. I like what I see.” He tongues at the skin at your neck. “You see me, too.”

“It’s kinda hard not to, you’re like a neutron star.” You smile. 

“You trying to woo me, pet?” He smirks, as he slides down your body, kissing over it as he goes, elbow pressed into the mattress for support. 

“Is it working?” You gasp as he abruptly buries his head between your centre, and lets his tongue go to work. 

Your head is thrown back in the pillows, your eyes greeted with that dark void of space; the stars turning in their spirals as time slows down and he pulls you out from the inside.

Marvelling at the true alchemy of his tongue as it laps at your wet folds and he slurps you up like water, dehydrated like he once was on Kerulon. Transcending above the highest point in infinity and still climbing as your eyes roll into the back of your skull. 

Your hand fists through his hair, drawing him closer; his nose dusting your clit as his tongue fucks deep and swallows all the sweet honey you have to give him.

“All I can do is take you to the stars.” He grunts. “Is that enough for you?”

“More than enough.” You whine as you come around his lips. 

Ezra then spends the rest of the night breaking you apart, piece by piece, and putting you back together again, just as he said he would.

His voice wakes you, but not from beside you where you expect him to be. 

“Consarn it, you fumbling bawheid!”

You quickly reach for a tattered robe and grab at your crutches, wooden and rickety beside the bed, and follow the infernal muttering to the kitchen where he’s standing around broken cups on the floor.  

Ezra glances up at you with razor wire for lips pressed into a thin line. 

“Were you making tea?” You enquire through heavy lids, and he turns bashfully from you, the broadest back presented and littered with constellations of freckles and moles. 

“Yes trying, but my cumber-world impairment-” he grits his teeth “-makes me sloppy. Fuck.” 

Your gaze lingers curiously over him, determining him not to be an apparition but real; half expecting him to have fled already. You glance behind you and the Aurelac gem is still there on the shelf by the window as he left it.

“I can make the tea.” You smile softly, a hand reaching out to touch the expanse of his back, and his hackles immediately soften. 

He steps to you, his singular hand finding the familiar shape of your waist as he pulls you close. 

You take in the detailing on his worn face again. The way the pores on the smooth bump of his nose are marred with oil, the thickness of his brow; the entice of his full bottom lip. 

Ezra wanders freely over your features too, from the shine in your eyes to the feel of your hair soft in his hand as he brushes his fingers through it like a comb.

He scratches up to your scalp massaging your skull as he steps closer into your personal space and your eyes close at the sensation of it, birthing millions of prickles across your skin; your nipples standing tall and hard beneath the slip of the gown you’d thrown on, like diamonds cutting through the thin fabric. 

“How good does that feel?” His breath is drenched in a stale warmth on your face and you breathe the notes in deep.

"Really good." You breathe, nuzzling into his ministrations.

"Is your body defeated, pet, or can you take more?" He whispers into your crown.

You smirk. "More."

"Greedy." He snickers. "You'd make a fine Prospector."

Something’s hanging around in the air between you; something that’s unspoken. You’ve noticed it growing between you as the eventful turn has worn on into the night and seeks the new light of the dawn glowering through the smog. 

It’s inside the delirious crookshank smile on his lips as he reveals it to you in between the comfortable silences when you talk. In his swampy brown eyes that take you in and feel as though he’s pulling you apart with them to see what’s really going on inside of your fibres and nerves. 

And it's here again now as you linger, watching Ezra watching you, sensing that when the time comes to part from the questionable consternation of his company, it'll leave ruptures somewhere inside of you.

The black lacquer thoughts slither up from your spine and germinate insipid sparks into your core; a groundless lust that dizzies you from the smooth tickle of his fingers brushing down your hip and across your thigh.

You gasp as his fingers stray too close to your swollen centre, still drenched warm with his copious spend and aching from the stretch of him. 

You’re weak for him; weak for those skilled fingers on his singular hand to be crawling inside of you and fucking you up, quite literally, as he weaves them in and out of your soaked pussy, curling them and wrapping you around them further.

“Ezra,” you gasp as he pumps them in and out, your balance swaying. 

“Hold onto me,” he says, as you rest your crutches against the counter and wrap your arms around his neck. 

He pulls your only leg around his waist once more, hard cock bobbing at your perineum, lifting you with ease; his only hand resting on your ass, and carries you back to bed. 

Ezra has you all over again, devouring, leaving his marks on your body. Revelling in the melodies of your panting chants of his name as he fucks deep and hard.

His lips part slowly as do yours, reacting to him. Drawn to him, drawn into him completely and controlled somehow like a puppet and he’s playing with your strings; plucking slowly and gently at you and you’ve no idea how.

No idea how you've gotten so willingly naked in front of a stranger, despite his strange appeal, and are allowing him to guide you like this. Thighs splayed open before him and showing him your most intimate self.

It doesn’t matter how, for it’s pure fucking bliss. 

You slide down on his cock and ride him slowly, gently as his arm wraps you up and holds you close to him, almost crushing the life out of you as both you exertions wane.

You gasp out, letting his lips go as he fills you up again, makes you detach and lose yourself in this moment inside of his arms - inside of him.

And that’s the crux of it, you want to give him this, make him see that he’s worthy of love and affection and tenderness. You know what it’s like not to have that.

Ezra smiles faintly at you, giving into the feel of you lavishing your love on him.

He reaches down to grope your knee gently, and you shudder at the feel of his fingers brushing against it. You run your hand equally down his stump, and you watch as his eyes glisten before he scrunches them shut and crushes you against his chest as he spills inside you once more. 

“The storm has quelled. I should take my leave.” He says distantly after, stroking over your smooth nub as it rests languidly across his torso. His gentle touch soothes better than the balm. 

“You should stay.” You murmur, hoping he hasn't heard the longing in it. But of course, the plucky sleeveen has. 

“We find ourselves in a quandary.” Ezra retorts as he draws circles over your skin with his fingers. 

“Dare I ask what stories these tell?” You put to him as your fingers trace the marred lines over his sternum. 

“Probably wise if you remain in the dark, Birdie. I was not a gentle man once upon a time.” His warning is stark, but his eyes are soft and velvety as you look at them.

“You know how to be gentle.” You sway. 

He nods. “To those who I feel so inclined.” He nudges his nose against yours.

The skin of your knee is so soft despite the roughness of the chafe. It’s a sensation that imbues you with warmth rather than discomfort; his thick fingers caressing gently, exchanging heat between your skin.

You’ve never let anyone feel it before, but he doesn't shy away. Neither do you as you kiss and flick your tongue tenderly over the stump of his arm. You let your tongue dip into the jagged welts and fleshy riverbeds of his scars.

He hums out with his eyes closed as you explore languidly and find your way eventually back to his bruised lips.

He makes you feel seen, he makes you feel whole for the first time. And it’s a feeling you don’t want to let willingly extinguish. You kiss him deeply, fearing it might be the last time. 

“Your hospitality has been most charitable, pet. The swell has dissipated satisfactorily.”

You sigh out. “This whole idea was just idiotic from the get go.” You’re already mourning the loss of him, another part failing to grow on your body, but he doesn’t move. 

“Something I specialise in.” Ezra muses. But his smirk downturns when he sees your face. “Is that sincere affection you possibly harbour?”

“You think this whole time I spent with you was a ruse?” You frown.

He shakes his head. “I hope not. Did I fall victim to a spell?”

“I want you to stay, Ezra.” You say, reaching for his hand. “But only if you want to. There’s a place for you here, with me, if you want it.”

He closes his eyes, your knuckles resting on his lips, his thumb stroking over the hilt.

“You definitely have me under a spell. There’s no other possible explanation.” He hums as his eyes find yours staring back, unwavering. “You and your magic tea.”

“No magic. Maybe you just want to stay with me.” You smile, knowingly. 

“Perhaps some things can’t be explained by the universe after all.” 

“Perhaps it’s the Aurelac.” You snort. “That Siren song you Prospectors can't resist.”

Ezra shakes his head vehemently. “Maybe it’s just you, Birdie.” He smiles as he leans in to kiss you. “Maybe I finally found my missing piece.”

I really hope you enjoyed reading this story with Ezra, and welcome your comments/thoughts. I'd appreciate a re-blog if you liked it so others can find it on their dash to read and enjoy too - thank you very much! 🖤

BODIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

EZRA MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #pedro pascal characters #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect x f!reader #prospect 2018 #ezra prospect smut #ezra prospect fluff #tw limb loss #tw prosthesis #every body is beautiful #diversity #inclusivity #bodies series #jett's writing

[absurdthirst]

Boyfriend for Hire {Ezra x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 21.1k

Warnings: Modern AU, escort work, technically prostitution, oral sex (female and male receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, masturbation, angst, miscommunication

Comments: When you are instructed to bring your boyfriend to the company New Year's party, you have a problem. He doesn't actually exist. Hiring Ezra, an escort who provides companionship for those who can afford it, turns into something far different than what you imagined.

A/N: Happy late New Year!!!!

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

Thank you @thewaythisis for finding the pic I wanted.

|| 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.

“I hope all of you have a wonderful holiday season with your families.” You stare down at your checklist for the end of year board meeting and halfway turn out, knowing you will be working through the holiday to get ahead on some projects that will be happening in the year to come. “That brings me to our New Year’s Eve party.” The CEO captures your attention and you look up as he smiles happily. “This year, I’ve decided to host a party for all of our execs and junior execs. I want all of you to be there.” He turns towards you. “We can finally meet this mysterious beau you keep talking about but we never see you bring to work functions.”

Panicking slightly but trying to remain calm, you shake your head. “Uh, we have plans for the New Year.” You protest, making him frown. 

“Unless you are out of town, which you’ve already said you will be here, I expect all of my employees there.” He decrees. Shit….now you have to pull a non-existent boyfriend out of thin air. 

Ezra looks away from his laptop when his phone begins to ring, his work phone. He takes off his glasses and sets them down before he pushes the green button to answer the call. “Hello?” He answers after clearing his throat. 

“Um, hello. Is this Ezra?” A woman asks and Ezra smiles at how nervous she sounds. 

“This is he.” He responds, tapping his fingers on his desk. 

“I, um, I got your number from a friend. I have a New Year party to attend and I need a man to go with me…to pretend to be my boyfriend.” 

Ezra bites his lip to smother his chuckle at that, “that’s my speciality, little bird. Shall we meet for a drink and see if I’m a good fit?” He suggests. 

“Ye-yes. That sounds good.” Ezra lets you pick the time and place and after telling you he will be there, he hangs up with a smirk. He has a job for New Year’s Eve. Perfect.

You fidget as you wait, choosing a high top table away from the rest of the bar, your drink in front of you medicinal to keep you from jumping out of your skin. You know what you are. What you are perceived as. A workaholic. A bitch boss who demanded too much of your team and only cared about your career. 

It was true, you were career focused and you didn’t think it was a bad thing. However, when everyone started asking about your personal life, because apparently separation of work and home life doesn’t exist anymore, you had lied. Made up what sounded like the perfect man, at least not anyone you had ever dated. Now you need to produce this wonderful person and you have no clue how to go about it without hiring someone. You’ve not been on a date in years and you don’t really want to. Men are always insecure when they realize you hold more power or make more money, or whatever seems to emasculate them. “Shit.” You hiss, lifting your drink to your lips with a slight tremble to your hand.

Ezra spots the red dress you said you’d be wearing and makes his way over to the table, adjusting his jacket as he confidently strides over to you. “You must be my date for the evening.” He offers you the most charming smile he can muster as he takes your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “Ezra, at your service.” He declares and takes a seat opposite you, admiring you for a moment. You’re beautiful, not the usual elderly woman he is escorting to boring social events. You’re gorgeous in fact and he smiles, knowing this won’t be a difficult date for him unless you are an absolute bitch.

You introduce yourself and then lean back as the waiter comes over to take Ezra’s drink order, giving you a moment to observe him. He’s elegant, far more than what you expected. None of the greasy appeal you had assumed you would have to deal with. His date casual outfit looked like it would belong at any high class country club, although the blonde streak in his otherwise russet hair is shocking in its charm. “Ma’am? Another?” You break away from looking at Ezra and stare down at your ice. 

“Please.” You murmur and wait for Ezra to speak as the man walks away to fulfill the drink orders.

“So…New Year’s Eve? A work shindig. Tell me little bird, what kind of man are you searching for to accompany you to the party? I am well versed in being whatever gentleman you require. You give me the details and I will play whatever part you desire.”

Twisting in your chair, you pull out your notebook, having written down everything you’ve told your colleagues about this fictitious boyfriend. Sighing as you open it and turn it around to hand to him. “This is what I’ve told them about my…lover.” Boyfriend seems so very juvenile to say and you swallow harshly, waiting for him to scoff at the unrealistic spin you’ve woven.

Ezra takes the notebooks, reading your bullet points and he bites his lip at the imaginative meeting between you and your “lover” until he reads what your beau enjoys, how he treats you. “Chérie, you might’ve discovered the most perfect man on the planet.” He jokes softly and you sigh, reaching for the notebook. 

“I know I embellished but I- I wanted you - him - to sound good.” 

Ezra pulls the book away from your reach, “I didn’t say it was impossible to create. I am a talented actor, I can assure you that this man will be attending your party with you. I can be this man but…I’m not cheap.”

It’s on the tip of your tongue to say that price doesn’t matter, but what kind of executive would you be if you gave away your negotiating power? “What would be your cost? Expenses? What would I be paying for?” You ask, tucking the notebook back into your large bag and looking over to see the waiter bringing the drinks back to your table.

Ezra smiles and thanks the waiter for the drinks, pausing the conversation, then he looks back at you while he lifts his drink. “Cheers, Chérie.” He smiles and clinks his glass against yours. “I’m not cheap. I am very discreet. I am good at what I do. I guarantee by the end of the night everyone will be convinced that I am in fact your lover. Three thousand. For the night.” He tells you his price, knowing it’s high but he’s good at what he does.

He is pricey, especially when you consider what the going rate for escorts is. You aren’t blind, you’ve seen the expense reports for some of your male counterparts, claiming it as ‘entertainment’. However, you aren’t looking for sex, you want a sophisticated man to be able to charm those around you and give a convincing performance. You take a sip of your drink, contemplating the idea. “Agreed, I will pay you half upfront and half at the end of the night. However, if you are not convincing, I will keep the other half.” 

Ezra smirks, liking your moxie, and he shifts to lean closer to you, “oh don’t you fret, little bird. You’re gonna be thrilled by the end of the night.” He lifts his glass towards you and takes a sip of his drink. Leaning back in his seat, he’s excited to spend the New Year with you. 

****

As part of the package, Ezra picks you up in the town car he hired for the evening. A friend of a friend has a company and he has a deal with them. A few hundred bucks isn’t much when he’s making thousands. He knocks on the door of your ridiculously posh apartment and waits for you to answer, adjusting his bow tie to ensure he looks suitable for your beau.

Putting in your earrings, you quickly walk to the door and open it. “I-“ stopping mid-sentence, you take in the polished suit and the way that his hair is even more carefully styled. “You look fantastic.” You murmur. “Let me get my purse and wrap.”

Ezra nods, hanging by your front door. He doesn’t want to intrude and he waits patiently for you to come into the hallway after you lock your front door. “You look exquisite, chérie. I will surely be the envy of every man in the room.” He reaches for your hand and brings it to his lips to kiss the back of it. “Shall we go? The car is waiting.” He extends his arm after letting go of your hand, excited to remember all the tidbits he’s been memorizing since your meeting a few days ago.

Nervous as you take his arm, you allow Ezra to walk you towards the elevators. “Have you memorized the key points?” You ask softly, the clicking of your shoes on the marble floors the only thing you can hear beyond your quiet conversation. “When we met, first date?”

“We met in that coffee shop over on Desmond Street. Brewsters. We bumped into each other during the morning rush and that was it. I took you to dinner at Le Mar and brought you roses. We kissed that night but nothing else. We’ve been dating for ten months. It’s been bliss. I took you to the fair and bought you that pretty bracelet you’re wearing for your birthday. I know your middle name. I know where you were born. I know the town you grew up in. Trust me, baby, I am a professional.” He pushes the button to call the car, turning to look at you. He reaches up to caress your face.

Suitably impressed, you wonder why your cheeks heat up when he touches your cheek. “You have a scar.” You just realize it, seeing the thin, silvery scar on the apple of his left cheek. “Where did you get it? In case anyone asks, of course.” You don’t mention that you think that it’s charming, giving him an almost roguish appearance that makes you think of old fashioned duals for honor with his syrupy accent.

Ezra chuckles softly, “serving this country. I was lucky that’s all I got. I nearly lost my arm. Was shot a few times but made it through. You should probably mention that I was an army man. Might win some of those bigwigs you associate with over. They always appreciate a man in uniform I’ve found.” He snorts, remembering the amount of times he’s seen lust in their eyes imagining him in a uniform while their wives stood beside them for appearances. You press the button for the ground floor and Ezra stands beside you after you drop his arm.

“Oh.” You murmur to him. “Sorry.” You don’t know what to say to that. Instead, the silence settles between you as your elevator car takes you down and you step out into the ground floor. You take a deep breath, wishing you could just stay on your couch in your leggings and work on reports while watching the New Year’s Eve program on TV and drink the wine you had bought and the nibble on the little charcuterie board you had ordered with your groceries on a whim.

Ezra shakes his head, stopping you walking for a moment. “Hush. You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t send me to my death. Those bastards did. Let’s make this an amazing night for you.” He cups your cheek and leans in to softly peck your lips. “Come on chérie, let’s go impress your coworkers.” He winks and takes your hand to guide you to the town car.

“Thank you.” Ezra helps you into the car and slides in beside you as the driver closes the door. You are impressed that he went to the lengths that he has with ordering a car. You had half expected to have to order an Uber. “Where did you grow up?” You ask curiously. “Is your accent authentic or…dramatic?” 

Ezra smirks, “I’m not that good an actor. I’m from Louisiana. Born and raised until I joined the army and left for good. Moved here about five years ago after my - my incident. You like the accent? Or no?” He asks, watching you as the car pulls away from the curb towards the hotel your company picked out for the event.

“I like it.” You assure him, reaching over and patting his thigh before remembering yourself and pulling your hand back. 

“Don’t.” Ezra grabs your hand and pulls it back. “We would be comfortable touching each other, chérie.” He reminds you. “You have paid a lot of money to be with your ‘lover’ tonight.” 

You bite your lip, shyly looking away and clearing your throat. “You must think I am ridiculous, needing to hire you to pretend to be my lover.” You murmur. “I - I concentrate on work, not men.”

“That’s smart. Men fuck everything up. Men complicate things. You’re a smart girl, focusing on you and your work. The right man…he will come along eventually. I understand the pressure, the way people question you constantly. As a woman, you’re expected to settle down and marry, be with a man and have the American dream but not everyone is made for that. Some don’t want the man, some don’t want the kids, some don’t want the house. It’s 2022 for God’s sake, women should be able to do whatever they damn well want.” He says with conviction, “I’m - I mainly attend functions with older women whose husbands have passed.”

That catches your curiosity, wondering if he is some sort of a con man. Swindling sweet old ladies out of their money with sweet nothings and attention. “How did you decide to become an..an escort?” You lower your voice, not wanting to say it too loudly even though the window of the town car was up.

Ezra sighs, "um, it's a long story but the short version? I got out and back here I had physical therapy and therapy...lots of it. By the time I was healed, I couldn't find a job so I moved to the big city. When I got here, I got in touch with some friends who put me in touch with an older woman who wanted company - no sex just company - and from there, she referred me and so on. It pays well and no one cares about my résumé."

“Fascinating.” You truly mean that. It’s not like you are unaware of people paying for company, hell, you are doing it now. But his story on how he came to get into this is interesting. The things he must see and here while he’s providing entertainment are sure to be noteworthy. “Have you ever had disagreements with your clients?”

“Sometimes. Not everyone is a fit but as long as the terms are laid out, we don’t tend to have a lot of issues or complications. Communication is key so if you don’t like something, you need to tell me, chérie.” He orders softly, offering you an accompanying smile.

“I don’t understand why they wanted to do this on New Year’s Eve.” You huff even though you do know why. It’s an opportunity to get drunk and party, writing it off as a corporate expense. “I don’t like being out on nights like these.” You admit quietly, looking out the window at the crowded streets.

Ezra snorts, “I have always had a hatred for the new year. Another year wasted.” He sighs just as the car pulls up and he shifts to get out, holding his hand out for you to exit the car. He smiles at you, shifting into character as he prepares to face your coworkers and bosses.

Stepping out of the car, you’re nervous. All of this could be a disaster, what where you thinking? This was insane, you should have just told them you broke up with your mystery boyfriend but it’s too late now. Ezra’s hand is a lifeline and you cling to it, never really liking social functions. For work was fine, but you hate small talk and know that they will be judging you - and the man you brought.

Ezra squeezes your hand, noticing how stiff you have gone. “Relax, chérie. I’ll take care of you.” He promises, knowing it’s his job to take care of you but also, part of him wants to make sure this night goes well. You seem like a good woman despite your workaholic tendencies and he wants to ensure you impress your bosses. Walking into the ballroom, Ezra is impressed at the display and immediately a man approaches you, saying your name.

“Charles.” You smile warmly, reaching out to the CEO of the company as he stops in front of you. “You said to be here and here I am.” You chuckle and shake his hand, motioning to Ezra beside you. “And I have brought my significant other, as requested.” You introduce the two to one another quickly. 

Ezra extends his hand after letting go of you, shaking your boss’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you sir. My chérie has told me good things about you.” He offers a charming smile and Charles chuckles, “all good I hope?” He asks and Ezra nods, taking your hand in his again. “Of course. My lady works hard for your company. Workin’ all hours of the day and away from me.” He pouts playfully and leans in to kiss your cheek.

You hum, tilting your head as if it is a kiss you receive everyday rather than this being the first time. “Well, you know I love my job.” You smile and look back at Charles. “The party looks like a success, everyone is having fun.” Code for quickly getting smashed but it’s not sloppy yet.

Ezra lets go of your hand and wraps his arm around you, pulling you close. “Yes. Yes. You should go have fun. Ezra…it was a pleasure to meet you.” Charles smiles and Ezra nods back, “come on chérie, let’s go get a glass of champagne.” Ezra guides you to the bar, gesturing for the bartender. “I think that went well.” He murmurs, leaning close to you so it looks like he’s murmuring sweet nothings in your ear.

“Yes it did.” You look around the room, already ready to leave. Allowing Ezra to order for you, you are happily surprised when he orders a good vintage of champagne. If he is hanging around older, wealthy women, he would most likely have developed good taste and you appreciate it.

Ezra thanks the bartender and hands you the flute, lifting his own up. “To 2023.” He smiles, clinking his glass with yours. “I think it would be appropriate for me to kiss you…if you will allow it.” He adds, not wanting to overstep however, he can feel eyes on him and he wants to make a good impression.

You bite your lip for a brief second before you nod. You’d be lying to yourself if you hadn’t wondered if he was a good kisser. The little crease in his bottom lip very distracting and you’ve glanced at several times. “I think a moderate kiss would be appropriate right now.” You murmur, knowing you don’t want to cause a scene.

There’s a part of Ezra that wants to kiss you, the way your lips part and the small furrow in your brow has him ready to kiss you silly. He doesn’t kiss during his usual bookings, most of the women are older and don’t require that of him. He gently grips your chin with his free hand, leaning in and his eyes meet yours for a brief moment until he closes them to press a soft kiss to your lips.

It steals your breath. Making your eyes glitter and your hand reaches up to grip his shoulder. Nearly overwhelmed just from the petal soft feel of his lips against yours. It’s not demanding, but you yield anyway, the softest moan echoing in your throat.

Your moan makes Ezra deepen the kiss a little. Sliding his tongue into your mouth for a brief moment until he pulls back and kisses the corner of your mouth. “Well, isn’t this adorable?” Cynthia, one of your department managers comes over to see you. “This must be the beau you’ve mentioned before. Though we never caught his name.” She clicks her tongue and Ezra extends his hand after lowering it from your chin. 

“Ezra, pleasure to meet you.” He offers her a charming smile while keeping his posture aligned towards you.

You and Cynthia never really see eye to eye. She has some kind of grudge against you since you were promoted over her although she didn’t have the skill set for your job. “Cynthia.” You nod politely and smile. “Where is your husband? I’m sure Ezra would like to meet him.” Her husband is boorish, but you have to pretend to enjoy his company to play nicely. 

“Oh he has a work meeting. He’s been so busy.” She waves it off and Ezra frowns, “work meeting? It’s New Year’s Eve.” He takes a sip of his champagne and pulls you close with his free arm. “It’s a shame he left his beautiful wife to see in the New Year alone.” He tuts, “I would surely perish if I wasn’t able to kiss my beautiful girl at midnight.”

You fluster, slapping at his chest lightly as you feel the heat creep up your cheeks. “You always say the most outrageous things.” You tease, like he is always showering you with praise. Your perfect man would, even though he is a figment of your imagination brought to life by paying Ezra three thousand dollars.

Ezra grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips to press a soft kiss on your skin. “I merely speak the truth, mon chérie.” He coos, nudging his nose against your hairline. 

Cynthia narrows her eyes slightly, “I can’t believe we are finally meeting Ezra. I thought she had made you up. You seemed too good to be true.” 

She raises her eyebrows when Ezra shakes his head, “she’s focused on her work and we like to keep our private life just that. Private.”

You don’t like the tone of Cynthia’s voice, but you bite your lip and lean into Ezra’s side. “He is my little escape from work when I need it. So I keep him away from our office.” You don’t like the accusation in her comments, especially because they are true. 

Cynthia hums, “very well. We had better mingle. I know everyone is just dying to meet your Ezra. Come on, let’s go mingle.” She reaches for Ezra’s hand and he pulls away from her. 

“I’ll let my partner lead tonight. We will need another drink before we continue our exploration around the room. Pleasure to meet you Cynthia.” He says a little sharply and she huffs before striding off. “I can see why you decided to indulge in a fantasy boyfriend.” He murmurs in your ear then kisses your neck when he catches the eyes of your coworkers now speaking to Cynthia.

“She is very competitive.” You snort, closing your eyes slightly in pleasure. “I’ve never seemed to understand why, but she wants to prove that I wasn’t the right fit for the position. She wanted it. Or wants it.” You indulge yourself and lean in to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for being here. I know you technically have to be, but thank you.”

Ezra wraps his arm around you and gestures for the bartender to order you another round. “I might have to be here but there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” He tells you truthfully, “you are a beautiful, smart woman and you deserve a perfect New Year’s Eve. You deserve your coworkers to know you are dearly loved and adored. You should be. You’re a good woman.” He murmurs, caressing your waist.

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt such a strong attraction to someone. Your stomach clenches and you feel your pussy bottom out. “You are engaging and attractive, so I will take your words as the highest compliment.” You promise him, picking up your champagne glass when the bartender brings it and taking a small sip. You don’t like to get too drunk, but the bubbly is delicious.

Ezra grins, glad to hear that, and he looks over his shoulder as the band starts to play. He reaches for your glass, setting it down on the bar and he grabs your hand. “Let’s dance, chérie. I want to show you off to your coworkers.” He guides you onto the dance floor, pulling you close into his arms.

This is completely different than any other time you have been out with your coworkers. Often mandatory drinks where you have one and leave, or work dinners where the focus is work. This is an actual party. Letting yourself be pulled into his arms and smiling as the two of you start to move in time to the music.

Ezra has always prided himself on his dancing. His mother had taught him and after he came home injured, he promised himself that he’d learn to dance again. He promised his mom a dance before she died. Now, he’s swinging you around to the music, a smile on his face.

You know people are staring at you, but you don’t care. Too busy enjoying the moment and you let out a happy laugh when Ezra pushes you away to spin you around and pull you back close to him. “Wow.” You beam at him. “You are amazing.”

Ezra is pleased that you’re happy with him. “Not as amazing as you, mon chérie. Every man in this room wants to be me right now with how absolutely exquisite you look.” His hands slide lower, dangerously close to the curve of your ass. “Are you enjoying yourself?” He asks, leaning in to kiss your neck.

“I am.” You confess breathlessly, feeling like this is some kind of hazy dream. It would be a fantasy, and you are enjoying every minute of it. His hand flexes right above the swell of your ass and you wish he would just squeeze it, but you won’t beg for that. “Ezra…”

He knows what you want from him and he usually would never indulge in the physical affection his clients desire but you are different. His stomach twists with how beautiful you are - inside and out - and he obliges your wordless request, cupping your cheek to press his lips to yours.

The two of you dance in your own little world, your heart pounding as his tongue flicks against your lips and you let him in without a second's hesitation. Feeling like it is the most natural thing in the world, you have come to stop on the dance floor and you don’t even realize it.

People watch you and Ezra, some with mirth, some with surprise, quite a few with jealousy. Ezra keeps you close and only pulls back when the song ends, applause thundering in the ballroom and Ezra pecks your lips before he turns to clap his own hands. “The best dance I’ve had in a while.” He winks and takes your hand to guide you to a nearby table. “Are you hungry, chérie? You want some food?” He gestures to the buffet of hors d’oeuvres.

“We should, since we are drinking…” You hum, enjoying the warmth of his hand far more than you probably should. You know his rules, sex is off the table but right now that is all you can think about. Blaming it on the champagne, you look over to him. “Should we share a plate? Try a little of everything?”

Ezra nods, leaning down to kiss your forehead then he makes his way over to the buffet to grab a plate of food for you to share. He sits back down beside you, handing you some napkins. “Here you go, chérie. I can get more.” He tells you, winking at you as the band continues to play.

Picking up a spinach and cheese tart, you hold it out to Ezra to try. Surprising yourself because you are not trying to talk about work or slip away since you have been seen by the CEO. You are actually enjoying yourself. “Have a bite, sweetheart.” You coo playfully.

He eagerly leans forward, taking the bite and he can’t help but let his tongue touch your fingers before he chews. You are too delectable. Sexy and independent. Two qualities he greatly admires in a woman. He leans in to kiss your jaw after he finishes swallowing, “delicious.” He murmurs, pulling back to look at you.

Your lip is between your teeth and you wish that he would never stop. Food play has never been an ideal fantasy for you but now you want him to eat everything off your body.

“So this is your mystery boy toy?” Jackson, another department head, strides over. His posture is cocky as he looms over you and Ezra. “You gonna introduce me? I’m her work husband. She’s never mentioned you.” He wrinkles his nose at Ezra. Jackson has always wanted you, flirted with you, and now he’s not happy that you brought your mystery boyfriend to the party.

“Yes I have, you just haven’t listened.” You roll your eyes and look back at Ezra. “Ezra, this is Jackson. Jackson, Ezra.” You manage to make it appear that you are smiling but your teeth are clenched together in annoyance. “He is a colleague and not my work husband.”

“I shouldn’t be jealous, I know I’m a lucky bastard to have this exquisite creature as my lover. It’s, uh, interesting to make your acquaintance, Jackson. She’s never mentioned you. My name is Ezra. Lucky to belong to this exquisite woman you have the pleasure of spending your work days with.” Ezra reaches for your hand, kissing the back of it.

Jackson narrows his eyes, unhappy that the so-called boyfriend exists. He had been sure it was a figment of your imagination, no man was that perfect. Embarrassed that you would call him out about your work relationship, he presses on. “Don’t worry, Ethan, was it?” He purposefully says Ezra’s name wrong. “I take good care of her while she’s here. If I didn’t bring her lunch, she wouldn’t eat!”

Ezra frowns at that, looking over at you. “Is that true, amor? You don’t eat lunch? We shall have to rectify that. I shall be making you a lunch from now on.” He promises, not even looking back at Jackson. “And the name she moans in bed is Ezra, just so you know.”

Your cheeks flame hot but not because he’s embarrassed you, but because you are imagining doing just that - moaning his name in bed while he pounds into you. You have no idea what his dick size is but you can just tell he would be an attentive and exhausting lover. It makes you squirm slightly, needing friction and your suddenly dry mouth needs some more champagne.

Ezra watches you take a sip of champagne, your neck extended, and he bites his lip, deciding to take the chance. He leans in to kiss along your neck and you softly moan. His cock twitches in his pants and Jackson stands there for a moment until Ezra pulls away from you to look at him. “Are we keeping you from mingling?” He inquires and Jackson shakes his head, huffing before he stomps off. With a chuckle, Ezra kisses along your neck and down to your clavicle, “I must say, you smell simply divine, chérie.”

You whimper, shivering slightly at the feather light kisses along your skin. “I- wanted to- to seem like- like someone you would be with.” You admit breathlessly, aware of your reputation as dull. The sexy perfume was an indulgence beyond the clean scent you would wear into the office. Something that made you think of sex rather than work meetings.

Ezra hums, pulling back to look at you with a frown. “Why wouldn’t I be with someone like you?” He asks softly, hating the insecurities he finds swarming your eyes and he cups your cheek. “You’re a beautiful, smart, successful woman. You’re far too good for someone like me.”

You know that he is a companion, that you are paying him, but you also know that he has to be very intelligent in order to move in the circles that he does seamlessly. “I’m not.” You protest quietly, reminding yourself you had to pay him to pretend to be your lover. “I doubt you would be interested in someone like me. I am a workaholic.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being dedicated to your work but you need to take time for yourself. For your pleasures. Indulgences. You only live once, mon chérie. Don’t waste your life working.” He tells you just as the band announces the countdown to midnight. “Come on, let’s see in the new year in style.” He stands up and extends his hand to you.

When the clock strikes midnight, Ezra pulls you close and presses his lips to yours. Cupping your cheek with one hand and his arm around your waist, he slides his tongue into your mouth with a groan and kisses you at midnight. Putting his heart behind it as he wants you to feel special.

It’s just for the night, you know this. Still, you cling to him, letting the streamers and balloons with the confetti fall around you. Noise makers being blown and others exchanging kisses. Although all you think about is Ezra. Making you whimper when he finally pulls away after half a minute of kissing into the New Year.

He grins when he pulls back, “happy new year, chérie.” He kisses your nose and pulls you close again, marveling at the display of balloons and confetti as the band begins to play “Auld Lang Syne.” He doesn’t ever break his rule of not sleeping with his client but you, pressed against him, feel marvelous and he leans down to kiss you again. This kiss is dirtier, sloppier, as he tries to wordlessly portray what he wants.

It shifts - this feeling between you. The spark ignites and you would be lying if you said you did not want him. Your own arms around him tighten and you press yourself against him shamelessly. If it wasn’t so rude, you would drag him out of here. Only when he pulls away to gulp down air do you dare voice it. “Should we leave?” You ask breathlessly. “Go back to mine?”

Ezra hesitates for a second, knowing he shouldn’t be doing this but he desperately wants you. He wants to make you moan his name, he wants to pull you apart piece by piece. “Let’s go.” He rasps, “do you have to say goodbye to anyone?” He asks, sliding his hand down to squeeze your ass.

You know none of them will miss you, you shake your head and whimper when he squeezes again. “Let- where is your driver?” You demand, ready to say fuck it and drag him to a bathroom. You don’t care right now.

Ezra nods, taking your hand after reluctantly letting you go, and he guides you to the exit. Practically dragging you through the hotel to the car he has waiting for you. He opens your door and helps you in before he gets in after you and slams the door. “Chérie, you are -” He surges forward to press his lips to yours, a rare display of speechlessness from Ezra.

This time the kiss is even more desperate, consuming. You moan louder now that you are in the safety of a vehicle and away from the prying eyes of your coworkers. Not worrying about what they will say about you. Instead you let your hands wander over Ezra’s suit, sliding under his jacket to the warmth underneath.

Ezra groans your name against your lips as your hands slide up his chest but when you touch his shoulder, he pulls back. “Sorry!” You rush out, wondering what you’ve done wrong and Ezra shifts away from you. 

“It’s okay, chérie. Just - gimme a moment.” He rasps, shifting a inch away from you as he tries to catch his breath and compose himself. He turns his head to look at you, an easy smile now on his face and he leans in to kiss along your neck.

You want to push away, something not being right about the way he reacted but you can’t make yourself. You will ask later. Ezra kisses at your pulse, his tongue pressing against it and making you groan. “Ezra….” You whisper breathlessly, your fingers sinking into his hair and your movement guides him to kiss down your chest into your cleavage.

He licks along your cleavage, dipping his tongue below the material of your dress and the car comes to a stop, the driver clearing his throat. He pecks your lips and shifts to get out of the car, adjusting himself before he offers you a hand. After paying the driver, he shuts the door and wraps his arm around your waist. “Come on, chérie. It’s a new year. Let’s celebrate it in style.” He kisses your cheek while you grab your keys for your building.

There are several other couples making their way back to their units, spirits high. You and Ezra cling to one another in the elevator and giggle with other drunken couples. Only pulling away from each other when the car stops on your floor and you pull him out into the hallway. “Happy New Year!” You call back to the other two couples still on the elevator as the doors close.

Ezra is eager as you struggle to unlock your door, his hands caressing your waist and his lips kissing along the nape of your neck. You pant and struggle to open the door so he takes the keys, swiftly opening the door to your apartment and he pushes it open, letting you lead.

Normally you don’t throw things around, keeping everything in its place so you can know where it’s at, but right now all you want is him. Tossing your keys, clutch and wrap to the floor, you swing around and press your lips to Ezra’s the moment he steps inside your apartment as you back him up against the door and close it.

He loves how eager you are and he feels the same way. His hands trying to touch every inch of you he can reach. He groans into your mouth when you start to push his shirt off of his shoulders and he’s grateful he remembered to wear a t-shirt underneath. His hands squeeze your ass and he tentatively reaches for the zipper of your dress, not wanting to overstep so he waits for your reaction before he continues, pulling the zipper down.

Biting your lip, you nod. Eternally grateful that you have worn something sexy underneath the dress. You didn’t wear it for Ezra, you wear things that make you feel good. Especially when it clashes with proper business attire during the week. This is merely a coincidence that you have lace and sheer material under your dress. Letting him peel your dress down to reveal your body to him, you wait for his reaction.

Ezra swallows harshly when he sees what you are wearing. “Oh chérie. You are - you are the most exquisite creature I’ve ever had the honor of laying eyes on.” He coos, almost scared to touch you in case you disappear. He finally summons the courage and pulls you into his arms, his lips pressing against yours while his hands explore the newly exposed skin.

His hands feel like hot silk on your skin, caressing you and seemingly bringing you to life. This time your tongue flicks against the seam of his lips to beg entrance. Making you huff happily when he groans and opens to let you in. Your own hands move down to his belt buckle, ripping at it hastily.

Ezra groans, flicking open the lace bra and he pulls back so he can tug the straps down your arms, flinging the lingerie aside and he ducks down to take a nipple into his mouth, groaning against your warm flesh as he works the sensitive bud between his teeth.

“Ezraaaa!” You cry out, eyes widening before they close. You manage to get his belt open and then the suit pants. Shoving your hand down to wrap around a thick cock over his underwear, you moan sinfully when he twitches in your hand. “I- fuck, oh my god.” You whimper, imagining him inside you.

He hisses around your breast when you squeeze him and he swears he could cum then and there. “Fuck.” He curses as he switches to your other breast, his hands hooking in your panties and he pushes them down to your ankles. He pulls back and away from your grip, his breath hitching at how utterly devastating you are and he kneels, kissing your stomach as he lifts your leg onto his shoulder.

Your eyes widen when you realize what he is about to do. Unable to comment before he is nuzzling into your thigh, inhaling your scent right before his tongue swipes across your cunt with enough skill to make you cry out.

He is tentative, not in a hurry, but as soon as your tangy arousal hits his tongue, he’s ravenous. He growls, diving in to slide his tongue through your folds, flicking your clit and his hands grab your ass to pull you close.

Your knee threatens to buckle, but you stay upright. Looking down at the sharp curve of his nose as it presses into your mound. “Of fuck, shit Ezra-it’s-its been so long since someone’s done this.” You admit breathlessly.

He pulls back for just a moment so he can look at you. “A travesty, mon chérie. You should have this gorgeous pussy sucked and licked often.” He tuts and dives back in, doing just that and revealing in your cries.

The sounds you make are filthy, and loud. You know people passing by can hear and you don’t care. All you can think about is the way the tension in your belly is pulling tight and you’re going to cum. “Ezra, Ezra, Ezra!” You cry out, body trembling when you fall apart.

He keeps you upright, pushed against him, and he works you through it with lazy strokes of his tongue. He loves how he’s already pulled you apart and he kisses your clit for a moment until he offers you a lazy smirk, looking up into your hazy eyes.

“Oh my god.” Your entire body seems to melt under the pleasure of your orgasm. Panting as you look down at him and wonder how the fuck he’s going to top that. “I- wow.” You manage, a goofy grin on your face. “I don’t know if you can top that.”

Ezra smiles, “I can have a damn good attempt at it, chérie.” He stands, licking his lips and he kicks off his dress shoes and reaches for his pants, pushing them down along with his boxers. He shrugs off the dress shirt and you reach for the hem of his long sleeved t-shirt. “I, uh, that stays. I don’t want to take it off.”

Your brow furrows in confusion as you look up at him, but his eyes have almost a pleading expression so you nod. “Okay, no problem.” You wonder if he has some scar that bothers him, it would make sense. Instead of making it a big deal, you turn and walk towards your bedroom, looking over your shoulder. “Come Ezra.” You order playfully.

Ezra exhales softly in relief and lets you guide him into your bedroom. It’s sophisticated and warm and he only gets a second to admire it before you are pushing him onto the mattress. “You’re eager, baby doll.” He chuckles, caressing your waist when you straddle his thigh and his hands slide up to squeeze your tits.

For a moment, your own insecurities rear their ugly head and you wonder if you seem desperate. Not that Ezra lets you think of that, or anything for long with his hands on you. Instead of pulling back, you lean forward and bite his bottom lip. “I am eager.” You confess. “I want to feel you inside me.”

“Condom?” He rasps against your lip, his hands sliding down even more to squeeze your ass and rock you on his thigh. His cock is throbbing. It’s been a while since he’s had sex and even longer since he got to touch someone so utterly beautiful. His usual clients are older women who try to get him in their beds but he won’t sleep with them, no matter how much money they offer. He wants sex to be natural, something he desires, not just based on money. He loves the way you moan his name. “Condom, baby doll.” He repeats, needing to be inside of you.

“I- shit…” Your clit is grinding against his skin and it feels amazing. “I- I think they - I have some in the drawer.” You aren’t sure, it’s been so long and it’s on the tip of your tongue to tell him that you don’t need it, but you are strangers. No matter how natural and easy this seems, it wouldn’t be smart to sleep with him unprotected.

Ezra manages to reach into your nightstand, searching around for the condoms while his eyes watch you grind on his thigh, feeling how slick you are. “Jesus fucking Christ.” He growls, growing impatient but he manages to find a condom, ripping into it and handing it to you. “Put it on me, chérie and use my cock for your pleasure. I want to feel you cum, see you fall apart.” He orders, squeezing your hips when you take the condom from him.

Your hands shake as you roll the condom down his impressive length. Nearly leaning forward so you could take him into your mouth, but you stop yourself. Knowing that the two of you are too worked up for teasing. Once on, you are quickly moving over him, straddling his waist and lining him up to sink down on his cock far faster than what is probably necessary but you love the stretch of him.

“Fu-” Ezra’s words die on his tongue as you envelop him in your hot, tight cunt. His jaw clenches as you sink down onto him and he caresses your hips while his eyes threaten to close. “My - my God, chérie. You are - so delectable.”

Your own moan claws out of your throat while you circle your hips and press him deeper. “So good, Ezra.” You whine. “You feel so good.”

Ezra looks up at you, reaching up to grab your neck and drag you down towards his mouth so he can kiss you. He slides his tongue into your mouth and groans when you start to move, rocking on his cock. “Feel so good, chérie. So tight.” He murmurs, caressing your side until he can squeeze your ass.

It’s unusual, bracing your hands on his chest and feeling his shirt rather than skin, but you don’t let it stop you. “Been a-a long time.” You pant, starting to bounce on his cock a little faster and feeling a little rush of arousal to make it even slicker.

“Me too.” He confesses, watching you and he caresses your arms up to your shoulders as you bounce on his cock. He’s desperate to see you cum again but he can be patient. He grabs your ass, spreading your cheeks before he brings his hands down to smack them.

You squeal, rocking forward and clenching around him. “Fuck!” The sting of his hand feels amazing and you are immediately rocking back onto his cock even harder. “Again, more- fuck, please.” You beg, biting your lip as he twitches inside you and presses against something wonderful.

He repeats the action, loving your squeal of pleasure, and he loves your begging. Wanting to hear more, he grabs your hips and manages to flip you over onto your back without slipping out of you. He doesn’t waste a beat, pushing into you with a deep groan, he starts to fuck you.

Pulling your knees back, you gasp out his name. Loving how deep he surges into you with the harsh and steady slap of his hips. Rougher, just like you imagined. It’s thrilling to have a man who is polished outside the bedroom who knows how to fuck. Instead of touching his shoulders since he had tensed up, you grip his sides and moan.

He grabs your thigh, pushing it back against your stomach and he sinks even deeper, drawing moans from you both. “Fuck, chérie. You - you feel divine.” He moans and leans in to kiss along your neck. “Are you going to cum for me?” He murmurs against your flesh and he licks up to your jaw, biting as he steadily thrusts into you, adjusting the angle every other thrust until - “oh shit!” You squeal and he smirks against your skin. “There it is. That’s the stuff. Cum for me baby doll.”

It’s not hard to give into his demands. The hard pace coupled with the intensity of his focus on the angle that had made you squeal nearly makes your back arch up off the bed. “Ezra- gon- gonna c-cuuuuuuum!” You cry out, your entire body stiffening when your cunt clamps down around him and soaks his cock in your juices.

Seeing and feeling you cum around him has him groaning out your name, loud and wrecked as he thrusts into you. It’s true what he said, it’s been a while and he’s not sure if he’s going to last. “Fuck baby. I- I’m gonna - shit. Shitttt.” He hisses, barely managing to thrust a few more times before he cums, spilling harmlessly into the condom.

Panting, you nearly forget yourself and grab his shoulders but you manage to catch yourself. Lunging up, you press your forehead against his and kiss his lips for a long moment while he rides out his high. Collapsing back into the bed with a satisfied sigh.

Ezra grunts, closing his eyes as he revels in his high until he has to pull out. Gripping the condom, he pulls out of you and ties it off, tossing it onto the nightstand and he grabs you to pull you against his chest. “That was…absolutely indescribable.”

You relax against him, making sure you don’t touch his shoulder and smile. “Yes it was. Best way to ring in a new year.” You laugh and are shocked at how good you feel. You didn’t want to go work, or boot up your laptop. You wanted to stay right here. With Ezra. “It was wonderful.”

Ezra kisses your head, "I'm glad you enjoyed it." He is sad to leave you tonight. The first time he's truly enjoyed the company of one of his clients and he knows his next client will pale in comparison to you. He sighs, shifting away from you. He knows you'll want him to go and he feels dirty to think about the remainder of the money but his rent is due today. He needs it.

There’s a shift and you are sad to feel it. Now that you are both satisfied, it’s time to remind yourself that this was a business transaction. The sex hopefully wasn’t a part of it, but you owe him the money you promised. “Let me-“ you slide out of the bed and reach for your robe. “I’ll get the rest of what I owe you.” You turn and rush out of the room, wondering if he had slept with you because he wanted to, or to make sure he was paid the full amount. Picking up your clutch off the floor, you open it to pull out the small envelope with fifteen hundred dollars in one hundred dollar bills in it. Sensing that he would prefer payment in cash rather than risk a check.

Ezra is behind you, grabbing his pants and shoes to redress while you gather the rest of the money. He feels dirty. He has never had sex with a client before and right now, he feels like he’s being paid for fucking you even though he wanted you, not for the money, but because he likes you. He is tying his shoes when you hold out the cash for him, standing there in your rope with your hair a mess and mascara smudged. You look like a fucking angel that he has dragged down into his hell. “Thank you chérie. I- I had a wonderful time. I hope you are satisfied?” He asks once he stands up, shoving the cash into his pants pocket.

“More than I ever expected to be.” You admit with a smile. It’s slightly awkward and you wish you knew what to say, but you aren’t smooth with things like this. “Thank you Ezra, for tonight. I know that we went beyond some of your boundaries, but I- I really had a great time with you.” You want to lean in and kiss him, but you don’t want to push.

Ezra smiles, reaching out to cup your cheek. “Me too. I had a great time. Best new year I’ve had in a while.” He admits and unable to resist, he leans in to kiss you softly one last time. “Thank you chérie. Happy New Year.” He grabs his jacket and tie from the floor and walks towards your front door, looking back at you one last time before he leaves.

****

It’s been two weeks since you’ve seen Ezra. You tap his card that you have on your desk, contemplating your next move. It’s been a distraction you don’t need but you can’t get him out of your mind. Popping up while you are working and especially when you are in bed alone, your hand or vibrator between your thighs. Sighing to yourself, you pick up your phone and select his contact information and hit call.

Ezra frowns when he sees your name come up on his phone. He keeps all his clients in his cell phone and his stomach twists as he picks up the phone and hits answer. “Chérie, my dear, how are you?” He answers, leaning back against his seat with a soft smile.

“Ezra.” Your stomach flips and flutters at the sound of his voice. You wonder if he’s thought about you at all. You hope he has. “I was wondering if you had a free evening this week?” You murmur softly, feeling unsure of yourself now. “For a- a dinner.”

He opens his agenda, searching the week. He has a couple of events with his older clients but he has a free night on Thursday. “I am free on Thursday night. I, uh, won’t charge as much for a dinner.” He says, unsure if he needs to keep this professional despite the way his heart is thumping in his chest.

Of course he wants payment. Your heart clenches, the hope that he had felt something during your time together dying. You’re a practical woman and try to see it as having a need met. Men did it all the time, why shouldn’t you. “Thursday will be fine.” Your voice is stronger this time. “Let me know your rate and where to meet you.”

“One thousand. I’ll text you the restaurant. I know a great bistro. Private and delicious. See you soon, chérie.” He murmurs before he hangs up. Hating how he is taking your money when he enjoys your company so much but he has to keep up appearances. He needs to be professional and practical.

One thousand dollars. It’s a lot, but you want to see Ezra again. You know you shouldn’t do this, but you never felt as good as you did when you were with him and you crave that feeling again. Opening your calendar, you make sure to block out that night as unavailable. You will be busy having dinner with Ezra.

****

Ezra adjusts his tie as he waits for you to arrive. You told him you’d meet him at the bistro and he stands when you walk in, looking absolutely gorgeous in a black silk shirt and jeans. “Chérie, you look absolutely delectable. I doubt I will need dessert from this bistro if I get to have you.” He murmurs, kissing your lips softly before he pulls the chair out for you.

You fluster at the compliment, unable to stop yourself from melting into his arms. The kiss was too brief and you sat as he pushed your chair in. “That would be up to you.” You promise, staring at his gorgeous form as he sits down before you put your napkin in your lap. The bistro is intimate and you wonder which one of his clients brings him here. “How have you been?”

Ezra shrugs, “not too busy. I’ve mainly been working on my manuscript. I’ve been working on a play. A re-enactment of my time during the war and how my life went to it. My therapist got me started on it, said that writing things down is healthy and it snowballed from there. You? I’m sure you’ve been busy with the new quarter.” He offers you a soft smile and reaches for your hand to squeeze it.

“It’s been busy.” You nod but you want to focus on his comment. “A manuscript? Ezra that’s- I’m sure it’s amazing.” Your skin tingles where his hand is touching you and you swear that your heart skipped a beat. “Have you been writing for long? I feel like you would be amazing at it.”

Ezra bites his lip and shrugs, “I, uh, I’ve been writing it on and off for months. Pausing when I can’t figure out the next step and resuming when it comes to me.” He caresses the back of your hand with his thumb, “I haven’t - I don’t have any backers and no one has read it yet so it could be utterly shit.”

“I doubt that.” You assure him. “You are far too eloquently spoken and a story weaver for that to be true.” You want to offer to help him but you aren’t sure if he would take offense. “You could always test a chapter, see how it’s received?”

Ezra sighs, “I don’t have the contacts. Actually, there’s this client whose husband is a publisher but she can hardly ask on my behalf.” He shakes his head, knowing the husband turns a blind eye to her evenings with Ezra going to events he doesn’t want to go to. “Perhaps…you would read it? See if you like it?”

“Of course.” You immediately nod, eager to read his writing and offer any suggestions you can. “You can send me whatever you would like me to read and I’ll give you my honest opinion.” It does sting to learn that he accompanies married women but it is none of your business.

The smile he offers you is sincere and wide and he squeezes your hand before he brings it to his lips to kiss the back of the. The waiter comes over and Ezra orders a bottle of red wine, “and two of the special.” Ezra orders, turning to look at you. “You gotta try this cheese soufflé. You’re not allergic are you?” He asks, silently cursing himself for getting ahead. He doesn’t know if you are lactose intolerant or vegan or have other requirements.

“Oh that sounds delicious.” You moan, your stomach agreeing with you by giving a particularly loud rumble of hunger. Wincing, you are thankful the waiter has already walked away and didn’t hear it. “Sorry, I haven’t eaten since…” you actually don’t remember when you’ve eaten last, you had gotten roped into a work meeting at lunch and hadn’t been able to get something.

Ezra frowns, “you haven’t eaten today?” He asks and you shake your head. He tuts, “that simply will not do. You must eat, I insist on it. You must prioritize yourself, chérie.” His tone is low but intense as his dark eyes focus on you.

“I forget at times.” You admit. “Or I drink enough coffee that I’m not hungry.” Your life is caffeine, perhaps too much of it.  You smile softly. “I do need someone to bring me lunch, I guess.” You joke, reminding him of his promise in front of Jackson.

Shaking his head, Ezra tuts, “I’ll come to your office and take you for lunch. Show that smarmy prick that you are treated right and I’ll make sure you get some lunch.” He remembers that he will have to charge but part of him doesn’t want to do that. He wants to spend time with you, find out more about you.

“No, you don’t have to do that.” You promise, knowing that it’s not his responsibility to take care of you. This is all pretend. “I will start having meals delivered to the office regularly and just have them say it’s from you. So no one suspects.” Why you didn’t think of it before, you don’t know. “I know you are a busy man.”

Ezra chuckles softly as the waiter comes over to open the bottle of wine. “I’m not that busy. Not too busy for you.” He says without truly thinking about it. He lets go of your hand and tastes the wine, nodding and thanking the waiter after he pours two glasses. “To us.” He toasts, a soft smile on his face as he looks at you.

“To us.” You murmur softly, wondering what he means by that as you take a sip of the wine. It’s delicious and you smile as you take another sip. “You seemed surprised to hear from me when I called.” You set your glass down and decide to be straightforward. “Did you not expect to?”

“I figured I’d had my use. Planted the seed about your boyfriend and you’d make the excuse that I work a lot, I’m away on business until you eventually reveal that I was too clingy and wanted too much from you - wanted you to cut back on work - so you broke up with me. You are sad but composed and me? I’m a wreck. You tell them I’m calling you over and over again to beg you to get back together but your job is more important. Impresses your bosses, confirms that you’re wanted and maybe, you’ll meet someone at work who can fulfill all your needs. This ain’t my first rodeo, chérie. I know how it goes.” He tells you. 

You snort, impressed with his genius and shake your head. “No office romances for me.” You tell him firmly. “I’ve seen too many of them go up in flames where  someone has to leave. No, I would prefer to have a lover outside of my profession. Even a competitor with another company  is not for me.”

Ezra hums and nods, understanding more about you. You are a strong, independent, smart woman and he loves it. “I can understand that.” He nods and leans back as the soufflés are placed on the table.

You send the waiter a smile of thanks and groan at the incredible smell. “Ezra, it smells delicious.” You are nearly drooling as you pick up your fork. “Thank you for having dinner with me. I- this is better than eating alone in my apartment while I work.”

“Chérie, It’s always a pleasure to spend time with you. Never, ever think that I don’t want to spend time with you. You’re - you’re so beautiful and smart. I just can’t believe you don’t have a man to spoil you.” He doesn’t say that because you’re paying him but it’s the truth. Deep down though, he’d be here regardless of the money.

“No one would want to put up with my work schedule.” You scoff, remembering how it was frowned on that you worked the way you did. “Men put in hours and they are praised for focusing on their careers, being a real go-getter. Women do it and it's unbecoming.” You roll your eyes and bring a piece of the soufflé to your lips. “Oh my god.” You groan happily at the taste, closing your eyes at how perfect it is. “This is delicious.” 

“Unfortunately some people still think women should be in the home.” Ezra rolls his eyes, “Neanderthals…every single one of them. I don’t subscribe to that archaic mentality. Women like you…they are capable, strong, independent. You pick a man based on how you feel about him, not based on what he can provide and that scares men. To have a woman not dependent on them? You have to be a strong character to enjoy a woman like you.” He winks and takes a bite of his own soufflé, a groan escaping his lips.

“Are you a strong character?” You ask flirtatiously, enjoying his outlook. “Why am I asking? Of course you are. You deal with women of all ages, some of them more independent than I am.” You hum, reaching for your wine again. “I am sure you have stories to tell. After your first book, you should write those stories down. Names changed for privacy, of course.”

With a chuckle, Ezra sets his fork down and nods, “oh there’s been some tales. Some women…they had lovers who they wished to make jealous. Some had occasions that I simply wasn’t prepared for…like a funeral as they didn’t tell me the event, just that it was a family function. Some wanted more from me than I was prepared to give.” He frowns at that one, remembering the way the woman groped him and offered far more money than they agreed. He doesn’t have sex with his clients…well didn’t…until you came along.

“Oh…..” you wonder if he counts you among those women now. You had assumed that he had wanted to sleep with you, but you had never heard anything from him and the only way you could spend time with him is if you paid him. “I’m sorry that you had bad experiences. You aren’t a piece of meat to be bought and treated how they want.” You offer, feeling slightly ashamed of the way you had practically begged him to fuck you.

“It’s nothing compared to what female escorts go through. Women don’t get nasty, they don’t threaten me or force me. I am lucky. I - I only have sex when I want sex and you…you’re the only client I’ve ever had sex with.” He reveals softly, his eyes flicking around the restaurant before they settle back on you.

“Ezra….” You reach out and touch his hand gently. “That night- I didn’t expect to sleep with you because I paid for your time.” You promise him quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear. “I wanted to be with you and it was amazing. It’s been a long time since I’ve thought about someone everyday and replay something like I have with that night,”

Ezra inhales with a soft chuckle, squeezing your hand. “Baby doll, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the moment I left your apartment building. You are funny, intelligent, and devastatingly gorgeous. I- I want to spend more time with you.” He says and brings your hand to his mouth to press a kiss on the back of it.

Biting your lip, your stomach flips pleasantly. “I- I want to spend more time with you too.” You confess, smiling at him. “I broke down and called you because I couldn’t stay away.”

“I’m glad you called. I- I want to spend more time with you. It’s just - my rate-” He knows he should tell you he will be with you for free, he wants that, but he also will be sacrificing time he could be earning money from his other clients. 

“I can pay.” You rush out, knowing you’ll spend whatever it takes to feel like this again and again. 

Ezra bites his lip, knowing he shouldn’t do this but he wants you, “I can do a reduced rate so - so it’s not as expensive.”

“What would you think?” You ask him, feeling a negotiation coming on and you like that. It wouldn’t be fair to just demand his time for free and yet you know you don’t want to pay expensive rates every time you want to see him. Especially if it’s how you want to be spending time with him. “I think that it might be fair to say we might sleep together again, and I don’t want you to feel that I expect it - but there is chemistry between us…”

Ezra grins, nodding in agreement, “I feel it too. Rest assured, I feel this - this spark of chemistry between you and I, baby doll. What about…$500 a date? Nothing extra if we should happen to fall in bed.” He suggests, feeling dirty to take your money but he needs to survive.

You purse your lips and tilt your head towards him. “I was thinking $300 a date and I will pay for any dinners or activities.” You counter with a small smirk on your face.

He raises his eyebrows, cock twitching in his pants at the look in your eyes and he nods slowly. “$300? That’s a deal.” He reaches for your hand once more to shake it and he kisses the back of your hand. “I look forward to many more nights in your company, mon chérie.”

You make a little noise of pleasure, sure that your time together will result in you falling into bed together often. “I must confess something.” You slide your hand out of his delicately and pick up your wine again. “I want for you to come home with me tonight and let me pleasure you the same way you pleasured me last time.”

He can't stop the smirk on his face as you offer to pleasure him. "It is I who should be offering to pleasure you. You were...exquisite. I want to bury my face between your thighs and remain there until my dying day." He confesses, licking his lips as he remembers how you moaned his name.

You try not to take that to heart, knowing he is flattering you. Perhaps not like a paying client, that would be vulgar. More like a new romance. “Then I suggest you finish your dinner.” You tease, taking a sip of your wine and then picking up your fork. “I want to have you for dessert.”

Ezra dramatically picks up his fork, shoveling the food into his mouth and he downs the rest of the wine then he calls the waiter over. "Can you cork the wine and get us the check? My lady wants dessert at home." He winks at you and leans back in his seat.

You giggle quietly at how eager he is, knowing you’ve already soaked your own panties underneath your dress. Finishing your own dinner before you reach for your purse. “No, I will pay for tonight.” Ezra insists, making you pause, but you give in when he shoots you a serious look.

"I want to pay." He tells you, knowing he will feel guilty if you suck his cock tonight and he couldn't pay for dinner. He may be an escort but he's a gentleman first and foremost. He hands the waiter his card and signs the check when the waiter comes back over. "Are you ready to leave, chérie?"

“Absolutely.” You take his proffered arm when the two of you stand. It feels like you are a real couple, walking out after a fantastic meal to go home together. “Did you drive, or…?” You had taken an Uber, wanting to be able to drink if you wanted with no issue.”

"I took an Uber. I can't - I don't have a car." He admits and he bites his lip as he pulls out his phone to summon an Uber to take you both to your apartment. He wraps his arm around your waist while you wait for the car, leaning in to kiss your neck as you stand on the sidewalk.

Closing your eyes, you lean into him. “Ezra…” you murmur, feeling that pool of arousal in your core already. “Do you-“ You break off, hesitant to push but then you decide to ask. “Would you like to stay the night? Rather than going home? Or is that too much?”

Ezra bites his lip and looks at you, “I, um, I would like that. It’s not too much.” He assures you and leans in to kiss your neck, “I would surely be remiss to deny myself an opportunity to remain in your bed after our carnal pursuits.”

The Uber pulls up and you excitedly jump in, eager to get back to your apartment with Ezra. “I- god I wish we were already back there.” You whisper in his ear. “I have been thinking about you all week but my fingers haven’t been enough.”

“I’ve been thinking about you too.” He promises, his hand on your knee sliding a little higher as the Uber drives towards your apartment building. “Been jerking off thinking about that exquisite pussy.” He whispers in your ear before he nips it with his teeth.

Shuddering, you let out a tiny moan, shifting your knees apart so he can move his hand a little higher. “Should have called me.” You pant. “I would have told you to come over. Jerk off on me.”

Ezra smirks, taking the hint, and he slides his hand higher until he is pressing against your clit through your jeans. Your responding whimper has him aching in his pants and he wishes he could finger you in this Uber but he’ll receive a bad rating. “You’re a naughty girl, baby doll. Would you have licked up my seed if I’d asked you?”

Blowing out a harsh breath, all you can do is nod, making a small sound of need. You could imagine it, on your knees in front of him while he is jerking his cock and telling you to open your mouth before covering your skin in his seed.

The Uber driver hears whispers and looks back to see Ezra has his hand between your legs. With a snort, he speeds up a little, certain that you want to be out of his car as much as he wants you out before you start to get frisky. 

Ezra chuckles at your squeak, his fingers rubbing you through the denim until the car pulls up outside of your building. “Thank you kindly.” Ezra says, withdrawing his hand and reaching into his wallet to hand a tip to the driver for your PDA. Once you’re on the sidewalk, Ezra wraps his arm around your waist to guide you towards the entrance, now desperate to feel you naked and beneath him.

This time the elevator ride is more tense, both of you not letting go of one another but there are others in the car. Making you nearly sigh in relief when the doors open to your floor. You smirk when the elevator closes again and rush towards your apartment, eager to have him inside you again.

Ezra reluctantly lets go of you so you can unlock your front door but he grabs your hips, kissing the back of your neck. “Hurry up, chérie. I want you to strip down and wrap those pretty lips around my cock.” His hands slide down to squeeze your ass and your hands shake until you finally get the door open.

Again, you are dumping everything and turning around to reach for him. Desperate to feel him. You feel him unbuttoning your shirt and push back so you can quickly strip down to your bare skin. Eager to get on your knees for him and watch him fall apart right against the door of your apartment.

Ezra groans at the skin you bare and his hands are immediately reaching for your bra. Last time was hesitant and new, now he’s hungry for you. His hands reach for your tits after you let him pull your bra down your arms and he pinches your nipple, wanting to be a little rougher.

“Fuck.” Your head rolls back and your chest pushes itself into his hands, loving how he’s being more aggressive. Still wearing your panties, you start to sink down to your knees but Ezra catches your arm, shaking his head. “No, chérie, I want your pussy to leak onto your floors.” He growls, making your cunt clench and you hastily follow his orders to remove your underwear before you kneel down in front of him,

He watches you as you kneel down and reach for his belt, expertly unbuckling it and he groans when you pull his throbbing cock out of his pants. “Fuck chérie.” He hisses which turns into a low moan when you take him into your mouth. “Shit.” He curses, eyes fluttering but he refuses to close them as he looks down at you.

You can feel him react. His cock throbbing in your mouth and you love it. Taking him deeper until he hits the back of your throat. It’s going to be hard to take all of him, so you wrap your fingers around the base to start pumping while you get used to his girth.

“Fuck. Oh Jesus Christ. Chérie, your mouth- it’s heaven on earth.” He compliments breathlessly, trying to keep his hips still so he doesn’t choke you but fuck, it’s hard to not want more. You whimper and he caresses your cheek.

Humming around him, you already have spit sliding down your jaw and your eyes are watering but you don’t care. All you want is to see the wrecked look on his face. You hollow your cheek and press deeper, swallowing when you feel you are going to gag.

“Fuck baby.” He leans over slightly so he can squeeze your tit and he closes his eyes when you take him deeper. “Oh shit. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me- you want - face? Mouth?” He pants out, not wanting to cum down your throat unless you want it. It’s been too long since someone sucked his cock.

You pull off for him for a split second. “Down my throat.” You gasp, taking him back into your mouth and looking up at him through your watery eyes. Letting go of the base of his cock, you grab his hips and pull him towards you, encouraging him to let go and use you.

Ezra hisses, rocking his hips and he groans when you swallow around him. A few thrusts of his hips, he is cumming down your throat in hot spurts, your name pulled from his lips.

You try to swallow it all, but it’s not something that you can manage. His cum spilling out from the edge of your lips to slide down your jaw while you gulp the rest of it down and let him ride out his pleasure, watching him as your cunt throbs.

Ezra pants, struggling to keep his eyes open as you let him drop from your mouth and he hisses, caresses your cheek before he scoops up his cum from your chin and pushes his fingers into you. “Jesus Christ, chérie. You - you are - fuck. Are you dripping?” He asks, shifting to kneel down and he cups your cunt, wanting to see if you are wet enough.

Whining, you grind against his fingers, wanting to feel him. You are soaked and ready to cum even though you know he is not going to be able to fuck you right now. “Fuck, Ez…” your eyes close and you lean forward to rest your forehead on his shoulder.

He rubs your clit, wanting you to cum while he recovers. You lean against him and he slides his fingers back to push two inside of you, groaning at how fucking wet you are. He presses his thumb against your clit, “want you to cum for me.”

You don’t care that you are still on the floor, his fingers inside you feel amazing. Thicker than your own and able to curl against that spot that makes your entire body light up in pleasure. “Fuck!” You gasp out, grabbing his arm to steady yours as your hips jerk towards him.

Ezra hisses when your walls flutter around his fingers, showing how close you are to cumming. “Yes baby doll.” He feels you gripping his arm and he tries to not flinch but he leans in to kiss your cheek. “Cum for me?” He asks, not telling you but asking you to cum for him.

His gruff request works, asking you to come apart for him does the trick. The clever fingers curl and press up against your g-spot again and you wail his name. Cunt spasming around his fingers while you soak them, thighs shaking in pleasure.

“Yes. That’s it chérie. Such a good girl for me.” He murmurs, working you through it and he groans when you lean forward to press your lips to his. “Are you going to let me fuck you?” He asks, cock hardening once again.

“Yes.” You whine breathlessly, lashes fluttering and you finally realize that you are holding onto his arm. Letting go without trying to draw attention to the fact that you feel him wince. “Here or in the bed again?”

“Bed.” He rasps, wanting to fuck you from behind. He groans as he helps you stand and he pushes his pants down, pulling off his shirt and he remains in his under shirt. “I want to fuck you from behind.”

You have no problem with that, leading him into your bedroom and you look over your shoulder as you kneel down on the bed. Smirking, you shake your hips at him invitingly. “Come fuck me.”

Ezra can’t help but reach out and smack your ass, loving the way the skin jiggles and he chuckles at the squeal that escapes your lips. “Condom?” He asks, his cock now aching with need and he grips his length, pumping himself a few times.

“Same drawer.” You bite your lip, wanting to ask if he would get screened so he didn’t have to wear a condom, but you don’t want to pressure him into something like that. You watch him open the drawer and pull out another foil packet, cunt clenching when you see his cock bobbing as he moves.

He rips it open and rolls it into his length, groaning as he pumps himself before he kneels behind you, gripping his cock to position himself at your entrance. “Fuckkkk chérie.” He hisses as he pushes into you. He leans over you, kissing along your neck as he pushes deep and gives you a moment to adjust around him.

He feels so deep in this position. Making your head fall to hand down and hips to push back against him as you moan. “Fuck Ezra, you- you’re so deep.” You whimper, walls fluttering around him as you enjoy the way he fills you. “God, I- be rough.” You beg, wanting to feel him for days after this.

Ezra follows your order, grabbing your hips and he sets a harsh pace, pushing into you with soft grunts escaping his lips. He wants to be rough, he wants to push into you hard and make you feel him for days. “Fuck baby. You feel so good.”

Gasps and whines are all you can manage through his harsh pace. Gripping the sheets in your fists while he pulls your hips back as he slams into you. His hips slap your ass and it feels like his cock is spearing up into your throat. You love and show him by clenching down around him every time he hits that perfect spot inside you. “Ez-Ez-Ezraaaaa!” 

Your moans spur him on and he leans over you, cupping your tits and massaging them as he rocks into you. “Fuck baby doll. You feel - you feel like heaven.” He murmurs, kissing along your neck and nipping, careful to not leave a mark.

Every thrust of his hips pushes you closer to cumming. That heat and tension curls in the pit of your stomach and makes you arch your back when he pinches your nipple harshly. Gasping out his name and closing your eyes. “Fuck baby, so close.” You pant, collapsing down to your elbows and laying your cheek against the bed. “Harder.” 

Ezra slides his hand down to rub your clit, wanting you to cum around his cock. He hisses your name, rocking into you. “Cum for me, mon chérie, please.” He begs wanting you to cum for him, to clench around him.

Within another dozen thrusts, you are doing just that. Almost a delayed cry of pleasure as you suck in a breath of air, you squeal out when you exhale. Your entire body responds to the overwhelming punch of his cock against your g-spot and you swear you feel him jerk to a halt, unable to move for a split second while you lock down around him. 

When you cum, he stills, unable to move and he kisses along your spine as you shake beneath him. He withdraws after a moment, shifting to kneel on the floor and he leans forward to lap at your clit, sensitive from your orgasm, and he pushes you into another one, wanting you to cum again. His hand squeezes his condom covered cock while his tongue pushes into you.

“Fuck, fuck!” You moan, unable to believe that he hadn’t just continued to fuck you. Making you pant and squirm under the broad strokes of his tongue. He’s relentless, not allowing you to settle down before he’s demanding your body give him more. Your stomach clenches and heaves when he curls his tongue deep and that sharp nose presses against your other hole and nearly breeches it, making you cry out again as another orgasm rushes over you. 

He works you through another orgasm, loving how responsive you are. He hisses your name and shifts to kneel behind you, pushing back into your fluttering cunt. “Oh Jesus Christ.” He groans and starts to fuck you, hard and fast as he seeks his own pleasure. “Fuck chérie, You are heaven sent.” He is close but he wants you to cum one more time so he starts to rub your clit, his cock pushing deep.

“Ezraaaaaa.” You whine shifting forward to lay down on the bed, Ezra following you where you are flat on your stomach. Turning your head, you watch him out of the corner over your eye. His fingers are trapped under you, rubbing your clit and you moan again.

He straddles your thighs, one hand grabbing your ass while the other continues rubbing your clit. He desperately needs you to cum, his cock aching as he pushes deeper than before, punching into your guts as he pants your name. “Cum, one last time. Cum for me baby doll.” He pleads, so close to his own orgasm and he needs you to cum one last time.

You scream his name, clenching down around his cock and soaking him in your juices. Panting out while he furiously rocks into you and seeks his own high. “Pl-please c-cum!” You beg, desperate to feel him cum, even if he’s wearing a condom.

He can’t hold back even if he tries, he pushes into you, gritting his teeth, and he thrusts a dozen more times before he’s burying his cock deep. Spilling into the condom, he groans, unable to say your name as lights flash behind his eyes, the pleasure consumes him and he slumps on top of you without pressing his weight into you. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He pants, kissing your neck.

“Godddddddd.” You groan, laughing quietly as you pant. “That was so, so good.” You murmur, wishing you can kiss him. It’s strange to feel his shirt on your sweaty skin, but you understand that he has some kind of hang up about being shirtless. “Wish you had filled me up.” You slur, almost unaware that you had said it.

His cock twitches inside of you and he swallows harshly, “yeah? You want that? I’m clean. Always - always get tested monthly just in case. Shit, baby girl. You want me to fill you full of my cum next time? Make you drip?” He rasps, biting down on your shoulder.

Whining softly, you nod against the sheets. “Fuck, please Ezra.” You try not to think about why he gets tested monthly. It’s not your business and it’s not your place to feel possessive of him. Your cunt clenches around his softening cock and he hisses against your skin. “I want that.”

“Me too.” He murmurs, kissing your neck again and he grips the base of the condom before he pulls out of you. He sighs and shuffles off of the bed, tying off the condom and disposing of it before he lays down on the bed next to you again. “So good.” He murmurs, turning onto his side and cupping your cheek, leaning in to kiss you softly.

Turning, you lean into the kiss and enjoy it. Your eyes closing and humming against his lips until he pulls away. “Let me go get us some water.” You murmur, moving to shift off the bed. “Worked up a thirst and I know you must have too.” You want him to be comfortable. Especially since he’s staying.

Ezra watches you go with a soft smile on his face. You’re an incredible woman and he’s lucky to be in your company. He feels dirty for having you pay him but he has to pay his bills. When you come back into the room, he has his underwear on and he is sitting on the edge of the bed. “Thanks, chérie.” He says before he gulps down half the bottle. “I, um, I need - I want to show you…all of me.” He says, gesturing to his shirt.

You can feel the anxiety rolling off of him in thick waves, making him seem a little green around the gills. You set your own bottle of water down and move over to where he is sitting. “Only if you want to.” You promise, touching the back of his hand that’s resting on his thigh. “Just because we are spending time together and in bed together doesn’t mean you have to do anything you don’t want.”

“I want to. I- it’s just - you might be disgusted by my monstrous appearance. I- I was injured, as you know, and upon my return from war, I had surgeries and therapy and - I - my ex hated how I looked. Said I repulsed her and if you should happen to feel that way, I understand. I just - I feel like I want to show you all of me.” He swallows harshly and reaches for the hem of his shirt, slowly pulling it over his head while his heart pounds in his chest.

You don’t say a word. Your eyes map the scars that crisscross over his torso and shoulders. He apparently almost lost his right arm, the deep scar tissue around it nearly cutting the meat of it in two. “Ezra…” standing, you slowly move towards him. You want to reach out and you do so ever so gently, not wanting him to flinch away. “I see a man who survived horrors and I’m glad you did.” You promise, touching his bare skin and caressing one of the marks on his body.

“You- chérie - You’re not repulsed? You - you don’t think I’m a monster?” He asks softly, his entire body sparking as you caress skin that hasn’t been touched in years. “You didn’t pay for a monster. You deserve more.”

“You are not a monster.” You want to scream at the bitch who planted that idea in his head. “You are a man who has seen war, and been marked by it. But that does not change who you are here.” Your hand drifts up to his heart and you press your palm there to feel his heart pounding. “I want what I see right now.” You promise him, leaning down and kissing his shoulder, one of the scars on his skin and look up at him. “You deserve more than to believe you are a monster.”

Ezra sighs, cupping your cheeks and he leans forward to press a kiss to your lips, unable to believe how fortunate he is to have you in his arms, with him. “Chérie…you are magnificent.” He murmurs against your lips and his heart pounds in his chest. He knows the lines are blurring for him between client and lover but he can’t seem to stop himself.

You sigh into the kiss, closing your eyes and you let your hands slowly caress his skin. Tracing the scars gently and reverently, wanting him to feel appreciated. When the kiss ends, you smile at him. “You can leave your shirt off around me. I don’t mind.”

Ezra swears he nearly cries when you kiss his shoulder and he knows in that moment, he falls for you. He swallows harshly and caresses your waist, “thank you chérie. Are you- are you thirsty? Let me get you some water.” He wants to look after you, he wants to care for you.

You smile at him, wondering if he has forgotten that you brought him water. “I’m good.” You promise. “If you need to do anything, the bathroom is through the door right there.” You offer.

Ezra was so caught up in his emotions, he forgot you brought in water and he nods, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “You wanna watch a movie? It’s still kind of early.” He caresses your spine, just breathing you in.

There’s something incredibly domestic in the idea of watching a movie with him. Nodding, you smirk and send him a small wink. “As long as we don’t wear clothes.” You compromise teasingly, knowing that if he wants to get dressed, you won’t stop him. You don’t want him to be uncomfortable. “Here or in the living room?”

“Here. I want to keep you in my arms.” Now that Ezra has had skin to skin, he wants as much as possible. He was terrified you’d reject him, think of him as a monster but you haven’t rejected him so he wants to spend as much time as possible with you. He wants to feel you pressed against him.

“Perfect.” You kiss him again and stand up so you can pull the covers back and pile the pillows in the middle so you can cuddle together. You slide into bed and pat the spot next to you. “We can turn on something and just relax.”

He lays down, pulling you against him after you grab the remote. You’re both naked but he’s never been more comfortable. He kisses your neck while you scroll through Netflix. “What do you want to watch?” You ask and his hand caresses your waist before his fingers slide lower until he’s cupping your cunt. 

“Whatever you want to watch.” He murmurs, sliding his finger between your folds to slowly rub your clit.

“Ha.” You pant, the slow press of his finger against your bundle of nerves is incredibly distracting and you can already tell that neither one of you is going to pay attention to the TV. You quickly select a movie, not even aware of what it is and throw the remote down so you can give him the same amount of attention, your hands caressing his chest gently and your lips pressing against every scar you can reach.

His heart pounds in his chest as you caress skin he’s kept hidden since he left Louisiana and he adds a second finger, rubbing your clit with soft movements, in no rush to make you cum. He wants you to savor this, just enjoy the pleasure without any urgency. “Good movie choice.” He jokes, voice raspy as his cock starts to harden as the little whimpers and moans that escape your lips.

You moan, lips against his skin and your eyes flicker up to meet his. He’s someone you are paying for his time, but this feels like more. It feels real and for the first time in forever, you wish you were in a relationship. You wish you were with Ezra, that this was just a normal night. Continuing to kiss every mar and imperfection on his body, your other hand slips beneath the sheets and wraps around his half hard cock, holding him firmly.

Ezra hisses when you grip him, his fingers rubbing your clit a little harder and he shifts his hand, pushing two fingers into you, pressing his thumb to your clit. “You are perfection, mon chérie.” He murmurs, kissing along your neck before he presses his lips to yours, loving how breathless you are as you slowly work his cock.

It is the height of decadence. Lazily stroking a gorgeous man’s cock while his fingers pump into you just as slowly. Giving and taking pleasure as the movie plays and neither of you pay attention to it. “It is so easy with you.” You admit, almost afraid that you might say something stupid and break the spell over this moment.

Humming in agreement, Ezra works his fingers deeper into you, pressing his thumb against your clit a little harder as he wants you to cum again for him. “It’s because you’re so - so fucking perfect.” Ezra admits with a groan when you twist your wrist just right to make him moan your name.

You aren’t perfect. You know you aren’t. It’s not like every man you’ve tried to have a relationship with hasn’t pointed that out. You work too much, you don’t have time for them, you don’t mother them. Instead of focusing on that, you twist your wrist again when he curls his fingers deep. “Always easy with you.” You moan.

He loves hearing you say it even though you both know you’re paying for him to be here. He hisses your name and thrusts into your hand, pumping his fingers a little faster while the movie continues to play. “Are you going to cum for me, chérie?” He asks, leaning in to kiss your neck, biting down gently on your earlobe.

You groan out his name and your eyes flutter shut. “Eventually.” You tease, a small smirk on your lips. Squeezing his cock, you’re rewarded with him twitching in your hand and you pump him a little faster. “Only when you cum with me.”

He groans, loving the way your fingers feel wrapped around his cock and he hisses when you swipe your thumb over the edge. “Shit. You’re gonna - I need you to cum with me.” He pleads, continuing to pump his fingers despite his balls pulling tight to his body, warning him of his incoming orgasm.

“I’m going to, baby.” You pant, feeling your cunt start to flutter around his fingers deep inside you. “I’m gonna cum for you. Gonna cum all over your fingers.” You whine, turning your head and pressing your lips to his. Your moan pouring into his mouth while stars bust behind your eyes.

He groans when you clamp down on his fingers and you grip his cock just right in your hand, squeezing him so that he grunts into your mouth. His tongue slides against yours while his cock pulses in your hand, spurting his cum onto his stomach and chest, dripping onto your hand.

It’s beautiful, both of you coming apart together. Groaning into each other and riding out your pleasure panted out with every breath. “Ezra.” You whimper, kissing his lips again and again until his cock softens.

He withdraws his fingers, pushing them into his mouth with a groan to taste you and he cups your cheek with his wet hand, sliding his tongue back into your mouth. He has never felt this sexually charged. He’s almost ready to go again, certain that he would be if he was younger. “Fuck, my baby doll, you’re - you intoxicate me.”

You chuckle breathlessly, knowing that you feel the same but it has to be usual for him. Maybe he’s a little vulnerable because he’s exposed himself, but any number of women would give anything to have his attention and his touch. “Hopefully that doesn’t change anytime soon.” You murmur, shooting him a grin before you duck your head down and lick up some of the cum splattered on his skin.

“Jesus Christ.” Ezra hisses, caressing your cheek, and he surges forward to press his lips to yours, tasting his own cum on your lips and he smiles against your lips when you pull back. “Shall we restart that movie?” He jokes and you giggle, nodding as you snuggle into his side. 

****

The next morning, Ezra watches you get ready for work with a grin on his lips, loving this routine you go through. It’s unbelievably sexy to watch you get ready and he sits there in his pants, watching you as you put on your underwear. He knows he could easily watch you do this every morning and that scares him a little, how easy it is.

It’s been a long time since you’ve gotten dressed in front of anyone, but you don’t mind Ezra watching you. There’s something in his gaze that makes you feel warm and you like it. Humming to yourself as you rub lotion into your skin, you think about the outfits you haven’t worn in awhile and walk into your closet to pull out the business attire.

When you come out of your closet, Ezra groans at how beautiful you look in the blazer and skirt. He shifts, standing up and he walks over to you, kneeling down on the floor. His hands run along your legs and he pushes your skirt up. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” He murmurs, looking up at you and he hooks his fingers in the panties he watched you put on, pulling them down. “I want breakfast.” He teases, lifting your leg onto his shoulder before he slides his tongue through your folds.

“Ezraaaa.” You whine, thankful you don’t have your shoes on as your fingers tangle into his hair. You had expected him to leave first thing, or to not be interested in anything intimate, but his tongue proves you wrong. “Fuck- I- I’m going to be late.”

“Be late. For once in your fucking life.” He winks and dives back in, flicking his tongue against your clit until he sucks it into your mouth, groaning when you buck against his mouth. He grabs your ass, encouraging you to rock against his face. Once he’s made you cum, he will leave even though he’s going to hate it.”

“Oh fuck!” You cry out, his tongue flicking over your clit with expert precision. You vaguely think about calling in sick and staying like this with Ezra all day but he has places to be as well. “Fuck, fuck, you’re going to fuck me, right?” You gasp out. “Oh fuck, fill me up and let me ruin my panties all day?”

He groans into your pussy, wishing he could spend all day buried in your cunt but you have to work and he needs to spend time away from you before he gets even deeper. He slides his tongue into your cunt, his nose pressed against your clit and he fucking loves the way you rock against his face.

Your body loves the attention, primed for another orgasm by his skilled tongue or cock through most of the night. You hadn’t slept much but you feel invigorated. “Fuck Ez,” you whine, tugging on his hair until he groans into your cunt again and it sends you over the edge. Crying out wordlessly, you flood his tongue with your juices.

He laps it up, working you through it with his tongue while he savors everything you give him, his cock now aching and he caresses your legs as he pulls back to look up at you. “Chérie, you want - you want me to fuck you?” He rasps, chin glistening with your cum.

Despite the fact that you need to leave for work, you are nodding. Turning around and pulling your skirt up more as you bend over the bed. “Fuck me. God, I want to feel you all day, baby.” You beg, closing your eyes so you don’t ask him to be here when you get home.

Ezra doesn’t think about the condom, too focused on pulling his trousers down to pull his hard cock out, positioning himself at your entrance and pushing inside of you with a deep groan. His hands grip your hips and he doesn’t allow you a moment to adjust before he starts to fuck you hard and fast.

Rocking up into the balls of your toes, you cry out when he punches deep. Loving how it feels like his cock is kissing your womb and hitting perfectly inside you. Mewling every time his hips slap against your ass, all you can do is take it and you Fucking love it. “Ez- oh-oh fuck!” You squeal when he pushes deep and hits your g-spot.

To feel you without protection has Ezra thinking he’s been allowed into heaven. He hisses and continues his hard pace, eyes fluttering closed with how wet and tight you are around him, so fucking hot. “Oh shit, baby doll, you feel - it’s so good. So goddamn fucking good.” He smacks your ass, loving the squeal that echoes in your bedroom.

Every thrust of his cock pushes you closer, legs starting to shake and you feel like you are about to combust. Pushing your hips back and where he roughly drills into you again, you shatter. Toes curling and back arching, you practically scream his name. Creaming all over his cock and you realize he’s not wearing a condom and it makes it even sweeter.

“Can I - fuck. Can I cum inside of you, chérie?” He asks, panting as he leans over you. His eyes fluttering closed as he bites down on your neck, trying to control himself as you squeeze his cock, soaking him and his entire body shakes as he tries to control himself and not cum inside of you without you saying yes.

“Yes! Fuck yes, Ezra cum inside me. Please cum inside me.” It’s borderline pathetic how desperate you sound but you reach back to grab his hip. “Fuck baby, fill me up.”

He can’t deny you anything, thrusting deep as he cums, painting your walls as the deep groan of your name bounces off of your bedroom walls. “Oh my fuck-” He chokes, cock pulsing as he slumps over you, filling you up with his hot seed.

The whine you let out is low, pleased, as he fills you up. Loving the slow rolls of his hips while he pumps every last drop into your cunt. Knowing you will be leaking him for hours while at work. “Fuck-I, no more condoms.” You pant. “Just like this, every time.”

Ezra kisses along your neck, unable to believe you trust him enough to cum inside of you. He’s never had that with a client but the line is blurring. You are no longer a client, you’re more than that and it terrified him. “Fuck yes. So good.” He murmurs and pulls out of you with a hiss. He grabs your panties, helping you step into them and pulls them up to keep his cum inside of you, stopping it from dripping on the floor. “You need to get to work, baby doll.” He smacks your ass before he pulls your skirt down.

Turning around, you press your lips to his again. It’s crazy how deeply you feel for him but you know that his time is money. As it is, you feel like you’ve taken advantage. “Let me know when you’re free again.” You murmur, straightening up so you can fix your appearance for work. “I would like to see you again soon.” Like tonight, but you don’t say that. You don’t want to be clingy.

“Me too.” Ezra murmurs, knowing he needs the $300 rate you agreed but he wants to say fuck the money and continue kissing you. However, he has obligations and when you step back to grab your purse, he feels dirty, he feels like he’s taking advantage of you. “Maybe tomorrow night. I have…I have an appointment tonight.” An older lady, a widow, who wants him to attend a function with him. He knows he will just be there to impress her friends but the money is too much to pass up. Maybe he can work on his writing this afternoon.

Taking out the bills, you fold them over and for a moment - fear that he is fucking you to make sure you come back floods your system. Making you falter for a moment before you press the bills into his hand and kiss his cheek. “I- I should leave.” You murmur, not sure of how to ask him to get dressed and leave with you. You aren’t together and you shouldn’t leave him in your apartment by himself.

Ezra nods, pulling up his trousers and tucking his shirt in before he shoves the money in his pant pocket. “I’ll see you soon, mon chérie.” He murmurs, kissing your cheek and he grabs his jacket while you lead him to the door. He knows you need to leave and he follows you out of your door. The elevator ride is silent and he watches you as you stare at the numbers on the screen. He wants to say something but what can he say? You want him for company and sex, he needs to push his silly feelings aside.

The doors open and you look up from your phone, stepping out into the lobby. “Thank you for last night.” You offer, wanting to kiss him but you aren’t sure about what you can do now that you’ve paid him for his time. Your phone beeps and you sigh, looking down at it. “I’m sorry, I am so late. Ask the doorman to get you a car if you need one.” You flash him a smile and turn around to hurry toward the doors that lead to where your car is waiting. 

Ezra watches you go with a sigh, knowing you just want him when you aren’t working. He needs to control his emotions and be professional. That’s what you are doing and he must follow suit. 

**** 

You snuggle into his chest, the morning light shining through the window and Ezra caresses your spine as you sleep against him. He didn’t get a lot of sleep, too busy thinking about work. Too busy thinking about you. You’ve been paying him to stay at your place for the past month, going out for dinners, you even took him to a work event. Three hundred dollars for every night he spends with you and you’ve spent a lot of money. He hates it and today, he’s going to end it. He can’t keep taking your money. You stir against him and he kisses your hair, “morning, chérie.”

A soft, sleepy smile starts on your face as you turn your head. Mornings with Ezra are amazing and you have slept better and been more relaxed than you ever remember being. It’s sad that you have to pay for a man that you’ve fallen in love with, but you understand it. Time is money and you knew that the first time you slept with him. “Morning.” You hum, scooting up to press your lips to his. “Hmmm, what time is it?” 

“It’s ten. You slept in. Someone must’ve kept you up all night long.” Ezra teases, pressing his lips to yours once more until he remembers that he has to end this. He sighs, shifting off of the bed. “My damn arm has gone dead. Let me - I need to piss.” He says, pulling away from you as he shuffles into the bathroom. He doesn’t know how he’s going to end this, it’s going to destroy him but it’s for the best. When he comes out, you are sitting up in bed, still sleepy and yet so gorgeous. “I’ll make you some coffee.” He says as he grabs his pants, pulling them on so he can have this conversation with you.

You rub your eyes, a little confused at why Ezra is rushing out of the bed. Although it’s late, you have been spending hours in bed on the weekends before you finally get up and venture out to get brunch. There’s something odd about it and it makes your stomach flutter nervously as you slide out of bed and grab your robe to tie around you before you make your way to the kitchen. “Do you want to go out and get coffee? Some breakfast?” You ask, coming over to kiss his bare back as he stands in front of your coffee maker. His back tenses and you slowly pull away, thinking he is having some pain this morning. Sometimes his scars ache. 

Ezra doesn’t respond as he works on fixing you a cup of coffee. “No. I, uh, I can’t go out for brunch today. I have…other obligations.” He lies and you frown, stepping back from him. 

“Oh. I, uh, okay.” You swallow harshly and he bites his lip as he watches you walk over to your purse on the counter. “I can pay you now. Let you leave and we can - we can see each other tomorrow.” You aren’t happy but what can you do? You can’t force him to stay. 

“No.” Ezra says, his voice almost wavering but he manages to remain strong. “I don’t - I don’t want your money and I can’t - I can’t see you again.”

“Oh.” Your heart breaks with his words and immediately you are trying to fight back tears. It’s stupid that you had gotten in so deep with this man when it was only supposed to be one evening, one stupid New Year’s party. “I see.” You manage to keep your voice steady and you turn to pull out the crisp, three one hundred dollar bills and you lay them on the counter for him. “Take the money, you spent last night with me.” You insist before you set the bag down. “I- I need to - excuse me.” You rush back towards your bedroom, needing to lock yourself in the bathroom for a moment so you don’t do something stupid like begging him to stay.

Frowning as you rush off, Ezra looks back towards the door you just slammed. He shakes his head, suddenly pissed that you are just dismissing him without even talking about it. He knows he’s the one ending this arrangement but that’s because of his feelings for you. You just seem to not give a fuck. That makes him furious. He stomps over to your door, banging on it. “You can’t just lock yourself away. I- is that it? We’re done?” He asks you through the door, leaning against it as he sighs, his heart breaking.

Inside the bathroom, you cover your mouth with your hand, tears pouring down your face. “What do you want, Ezra?” You sob. “Is this- I don’t understand.” Your heart feels like it’s about to explode and all you want is to be left alone so you can wallow in your misery. “Is it a shakedown for more money?” You didn’t think it was all fake, but maybe he had just been using you. Maybe this was to try to get you to offer him more.

He hates hearing you cry and he’s so mad that you think this is because he wants more money. “More money? Are you fucking joking with me, baby doll? I don’t give a shit about the money. I- I can’t keep taking your money when I- it’s not just work anymore. It never was. Not since the moment I met you. It’s never been an arrangement for me. Chérie, it’s always been for pleasure, because you’re incredible. I - I can’t keep taking your money when I’m in love with you. It’s not right and it’s best that I walk away now. I know you just wanted company and I’m the moron who caught feelings and it’s not fair to push that onto you.”

His confession just makes you sob harder, confused and hurt by all of this. Especially the suddenness of him not wanting to be with you anymore. “Don’t lie, Ezra!” You shout, curling your arms around yourself to try to provide some small comfort. “I know- I know that you were just doing your job. I know that the only way I would get to be with you was if I paid you. Why-” You voice breaks and you gasp out a sob of heart wrenching pain. “Why do you think I kept paying you? It’s the only way I could spend time with you! Stop making fun of me.”

Ezra frowns, “what - what the fuck are you talking about? Please. Please can you come out of there so I can talk to you properly? I’m not making fun of you, my love. I - I want to be with you. I just - you kept paying me and I - I’m a scoundrel and shouldn’t have taken your money. I’ll give every cent back to you. Just - just please, let me see you one last time before I go. I can’t - I know you don’t love me. I’ll go.”

You don’t want to, you don’t want to confront him. You’ve never been good in relationships, never wanted to fight or deal with the heartbreak associated with it. You would rather just leave, let him go but he’s in your house right now. Stumbling to the door, you know you look horrible with tears running down your cheeks and your nose running but you can’t care right now. You open the door and you can’t even look at him, staring down at your feet. “Please stop.” You beg him softly. “I know- I know I’m stupid but stop pretending.” You hiccup and try to wipe away your tears. “You don’t want to be with me, I know that. So just- go if you want.” 

Ezra’s heart breaks at your confession and he can’t stop himself from reaching out to cup your cheeks. “My love, oh mon chérie. You are - please - seeing you cry has me damn near ready to beat myself up.” He tenderly wipes your tears with his thumbs, forcing you to look at him. “I don’t want your money. I want you. I love you. I’m - I’m a fool to let this arrangement have carried on for this long but I need you to know that I am madly in love with you and if you don’t feel the same, I will walk out that door. I will return your money. I cannot take it. I did not need to be paid for a single moment of this time together.”

Your chin trembles and wobbles while new tears spill over your lashes. Wanting so badly to believe him but why would he say he couldn’t see you anymore? “I- then why can’t you see me?” You ask. “I- I always want you here. I love you, Ezra. It’s why I’ve wanted you here. Everyday, I - I’ve wanted you. I paid you because I- I thought it was the only way I could have you.” 

He’s dumbstruck when you tell him you love him, taking a few moments to respond to you. “Why would you love me? I- I’m a monster. I- I don’t have a proper career. I spend my nights as a date for elderly women and I am not good enough for you.” He admits with a whisper, wiping away the new tears. “You deserve better than me.”

“I hate whoever told you that you’re a monster.” You hiss, shaking your head still cupped in his hands. Your own hands find his sides and you pull him closer. “You're not. You are a man who gives older ladies companionship and friendly banter, letting them feel young and wanted again.” You know he’s not sleeping with anyone else, you’ve actually met a few of his clients when you’ve been out to dinners. They are all sweet, lonely women who can pay for his company. “You are a writer, and a good one. Your book will be a bestseller, I know it.” The conversation has shifted focus and you find yourself defending him to him. “Why do I deserve better than the man I love?” 

Ezra swallows harshly, tears stinging in his eyes, and he leans in to press his forehead against yours. “Can you forgive me, mon chérie? For talking about leaving? I didn’t want to leave. I- I love you. I love you and I don’t want to go. I want you. If you can accept me as I am, I want you.” He murmurs, kissing your nose.

“There is nothing to accept, Ezra.” You close your eyes and try to catch your breath. “I love you, just as you are. I- you are perfect to me.” He never got upset at you when you worked at home, always let you finish up while he lounged beside you on his own computer or watched TV. Never tried to get you to change. Why would you want to change him?

He smiles, exhaling shakily then he presses his lips to yours, sweet but passionate as he breathes you in. He pulls back after a moment, “I love you, chérie. I love you more than life itself. I thank whatever deity is above that you called me for that New Year party. You’ve - you make me feel whole and accepted and loved. I could spend a lifetime repaying you for that.”

“I love you.” Now that you’ve said it, it’s almost second nature to repeat it. Addicted to the way it sounds when you tell him. “I- God, you don’t know how much you mean to me.” You promise, hugging him close and hiccuping again.

****

Ezra keeps his arm wrapped around your waist, smiling as you enter the ballroom for your company’s annual New Year party. Last year, you hired Ezra to come with you and now, he stands proud beside you. His book is now published and on the bestseller list like you predicted and he’s given up his escorting, now deciding to spend his nights with you and only you. “Have I told you you look gorgeous tonight, chérie?” He asks when you are standing at the bar, waiting on your champagne.

“Only when you tried to convince me to stay home and allow you to peel off my dress early.” You tease, leaning in and stealing a kiss. He’s officially moved in and every morning you wake up in his arms feels like a miracle. The second bedroom has been turned into his office, allowing him space to write and create. Often when you come home from work, you will sit on the sofa there and go through your emails while he finishes his self imposed writing limit. “But it pales in comparison to how handsome you are.”

Ezra bites his lip, staring at you and unable to believe how lucky he is to have you. You accept all of him, scars and blemishes, all of him. "Marry me." He blurts out, his dark eyes fixed on yours while you lean against the bar.

Rocking back, your eyes widen in surprise. “Ezra- what?” You forget how to breathe for a second and all you can hear is a slight buzzing in your ears. “I- you’re joking, right?” Ezra shakes his head, knowing it wasn’t the most articulate proposal in history, but he’s not joking. “You-you want me to marry you?” You whisper, unable to believe that this is actually happening. 

He clears his throat, reaching for your hands, and he turns you towards him. “Mon chérie, I- I adore you. I wake up and am beyond grateful that you are in my arms. I never thought I’d find someone like you. I never imagined being with a woman like you after coming back from the war. I love you, I want you to be mine. I want you to be my wife. Marry me.” He requests and lets go of your hands to reach into his pocket. “I planned to do this later but I- I can’t wait.” He opens the small velvet box, displaying the simple yet impressive diamond he had purchased for you.

Gasping softly, your hand covers your mouth as you stare at the perfection that Ezra has picked out for you. Making tears spring to your eyes as you imagine marrying this man. Something that you never thought was in the cards for you. “Yes!” You cry after a moment, laughing and flustered. “Yes, I will marry you.” Lunging forward, you throw your arms around him and kiss him fervently. “I love you.”

He wraps his arms around you, the ring box in his hand and he grins against your lips until he is pecking them over and over. “I love you.” He murmurs your name and takes the ring out of the box, sliding it onto your finger. Others have noticed the scene and are applauding, including your bosses who orders a bottle of champagne for you and Ezra. 

“Congratulations. Who would’ve thought you’d be getting engaged tonight?” Your boss winks at Ezra who chuckles, having emailed your boss to ask for the band to play your favorite song - the song that was playing during your first dance a year ago. 

The song begins to play and Ezra takes your hand, guiding you to the dance floor. “I want to show off my beautiful fiancée.” He smiles, pulling you into his arms and he begins to sway with you to the music while your entire company watches, the ring on your finger glistening. You have tears in your eyes when you rest your head on Ezra and he kisses your hair. You had hired him a year ago to pretend to be your boyfriend and tonight, you’ll be leaving with him as your fiancé.

#pedro pascal #ezra prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra x f!reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra prospect smut #ezra prospect imagine #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra smut

[flightlessangelwings]

Kinktober Day 24- Outdoor Sex

Ezra (Prospect) x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count- 1.6k

Warnings- smut (18+ only), hunter/prey, mild cnc roleplay that turned into more soft, restraints, rough sex, unprotected sex, brief knifeplay, established relationship, aftercare

Notes- Please be aware of the warnings of this one since it’s a little rougher!! But everything is completely consensual and is explicitly stated so. But this was one of the fist ideas that popped into my head with this list and I had so much fun with it! List provided by the lovely @the-purity-pen​!

To say up to date on when I post, follow my update blog too and turn on post notifications @flightlessangelwings-updates​​. Reblogs highly appreciated!

~

“You can run, gazelle,” Ezra’s low, threatening voice echoed through the trees, “But you can’t hide,” he smirked to himself as he listened for any movement, “I will find you.”

You huffed as you ducked down behind a bush to avoid his line of sight. It was just the two of you in the forest, no one else was around for miles. But the thrill of the chase went right to your core and a rush of arousal jolted though you. Excitement coursed through your veins as you watched how Ezra scanned the bushes with a sharp look on his face. Even from a distance, you saw the fire in his eyes, and you couldn’t wait for him to catch you.

But you also didn’t want to make it too easy for him.

When you saw him turn and head in the opposite direction of your hiding spot, you took the chance and bolted. You ran in the other direction, avoiding the trees and bunches of leaves on the ground along the way. Careful to make as little noise as possible, you kept your guard up as you looked for your next hiding spot.

Ezra was already one step ahead of you, though, and he thought ahead to set up traps right in your path. You didn’t see it until it was too late, and the moment you heard the snap you knew you were in trouble. In a flash, you found your leg stuck in a bind and before you fully realized it, you tripped and fell to the ground. 

“Shit,” you cursed to yourself as you rubbed the dirt off your forehead, “Shit, shit, shit…” you flipped over and tried your best to free yourself from the bind on your ankle.

“Well, well,” a smooth Southern voice made you look up, “What do we have here?” Ezra stood over you with his hand on his hip and a smirk on his face. 

You gasped as you looked up at him. The sun highlighted his figure, but you still saw the satisfied grin on his face and the spark in his eyes. It made you clench your thighs together and swallow hard.

“Speechless I see,” he purred as he dropped down to his knees and pulled something out of his pocket, “Doesn’t matter anyway, there’s no one around,” he revealed the rope in his hand, “So scream as loud as you want, birdie,” Ezra’s tone dropped dangerously low, “No one will come to your aid.”

Ezra’s words went right to your cunt and you let out a needy whimper before you could stop yourself. He took advantage of your bewildered state and pounced on you. Ezra used the rope and quickly tied your hands together to render you completely helpless. 

Once you realized you suddenly lost the use of your arms, you struggled in your bind, “No… Please…”

“Stay still, pet,” his voice was low as he leaned over you and used his arm to pin you to the ground, “Don’t want this to hurt more than it has to.”

“Fuck,” you breathed as you felt a rush of wetness between your legs.

Ezra’s expression softened a bit as he let out a short laugh, “You know, you’re almost defeating the purpose of this little game of ours, flower,” he chuckled.

You pouted, “I can’t help it… That was so hot…”

“You think so?” Ezra huffed as he leaned over you, “Well I happen to think you look pretty hot yourself all helpless for me like this.”

Before you could say anything back, the switch flipped in Ezra’s head again and he quickly pushed himself up. In one swift movement, he grabbed your bound wrists and used the leverage to flip you over so that you were on your knees. You tried to yank yourself back, but Ezra’s grip on you was too strong, and he was able to hook your tied wrists to the tree in front of you, already set up with a hook to hold you in place.

Suddenly, you found yourself on your knees on the forest floor with your hands tied in front of you. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to, but you made sure to put on a show of struggling in your restraints for Ezra. You whimpered as you found yourself trapped and at his mercy, but you never had been more turned on in your life.

As for Ezra, he felt his skin heat up and his cock stiffen as he watched you struggle in the ropes he tied you in. He growled as he made his way behind you and admired how your ass looked with you on your knees like that.

“You’re mine now, gazelle,” his voice was a low rumble as he grabbed his knife and flicked it open, “Now let me see my prize for snaring you in my trap.”

“No, wait,” you exclaimed, but you were helpless to stop him.

You heard the slice as Ezra used the knife to rip open your pants and expose your ass and pussy to him. Even as your skin felt hot, the rush of air hitting your skin made you dizzy from the cooler sensation. You tried to tug yourself free, but he tied the rope firmly and securely, and you weren’t going anywhere until he decided to let you go… If he decided to ever let you go.

“Beautiful,” Ezra cooed as he dropped his knife and lowered himself to his knees behind you. He reached out and cupped your pussy and he groaned when he felt how wet you were. As much as he was having fun with this game of yours, it turned Ezra on even more to know that you were just as turned on as he was, if not more.

“S-stop… Please,” you begged, “Please let me go…”

“You ask to be released, dove,” Ezra ran his hand up and down the length of your folds, “But your body is telling me otherwise.”

Without warning, he thrust two fingers into your cunt, and he savored the loud scream you let out at the intrusion. Your body trembled as you stayed stuck in your position and all you could do was take his fingers and he pumped them in and out of you.

“No… Please…”

“Perfect,” Ezra growled as he buried his fingers into you as deep as he could, “This pussy…” he pulled his fingers out of you slowly, “Is now mine.” With the last word, he slapped your pussy so hard that it echoed throughout the trees.

Tears filled your eyes as he slapped your pussy again, and all you could do was stay on your knees, tied to the trees. But you savored the moment just as much as he did, and you felt the splash of wetness from your cunt every time Ezra slapped you.

“Now, let me claim what is now rightfully mine,” Ezra groaned as he freed his hardened cock from his pants, “I hope you’re ready for me, birdie…”

Your mouth dropped open as you gasped when you felt the tip of his cock against your pussy. Instead of inching into you slowly, Ezra thrust himself into you in one swift movement, and you let out another loud scream as you felt him fill you so well. You threw your head back as he rocked into you right away, not giving you time to adjust to his girth. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moaned as Ezra thrust his cock into you over and over again in a harsh yet steady rhythm.

“Enjoying this, flower?” Ezra leaned over and grabbed onto your hip.

“Yes…” you breathed.

“Good,” he grunted as he picked up his pace and snapped his hips against you with everything he had. 

“Fuck… Ezra…” your skin burned from the passions, and the way he fucked you so roughly made you feel like you could burst into flames.

“I know birdie… Me too,” Ezra groaned as the rhythm of his hips became erratic, “You going to be good and cum for me now? Let me hear that beautiful scream out here in the open.”

“Ez…” was all you could get out before your climax quickly took over you and you came with a loud scream, just like he wanted.

The sound of Ezra pounding into you was drowned out by your cries of pleasure as you came hard on his cock. And he kept up his rhythm as your inner muscles clenched hard around him until he too lost control. With a low groan of your name, Ezra came deep inside you as he gripped onto your hip tightly.

When he had nothing more to give, Ezra collapsed forward, taking you with him onto the forest floor. With your hands still stretched out and bound in front of you, you let out a loud huff as the wind got knocked out of you from the sudden movement. The leaves on the ground crunched under both your bodies as you both caught your breath.

“Are you alright?” Ezra asked as he reached up to cup your face, “I didn’t hurt you too much?”

“I’m wonderful,” you turned to face him and your breath was taken away when you saw the caring look in his eyes. And it was at that moment you realized his cock was still inside you, “That was amazing, Ezra.”

“That it was, flower,” he leaned in and placed a soft yet passionate kiss on your lips, “Now give me a moment to catch my breath and then I’ll free you… As much as I enjoy the sight of you like this,” he smirked.

“I’m sure you do.. You better have new pants for me too,” you laughed along with him.

“I’ve got you, flower,” Ezra soothed you. 

You let out a few heavy breaths before you got quiet for a moment, “And you’re sure there’s no one around, right?”

“I sure do hope not… Or else I’ll have some explaining to do.”

“I would pay to see that,” you chuckled.

“I’m sure you would, birdie… I’m sure you would.”

#ezra (prospect) x reader #ezra prospect x reader #ezra (prospect) #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x you #ezra (prospect) x you #ezra (prospect) imagine #ezra (prospect) x y/n #ezra prospect imagine #ezra prospect x y/n #ezra (prospect) fic #ezra (prospect) fanfic #ezra (prospect) fanfiction #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character headcanon #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fandom

[rise-my-angel]

Binding Opposing Foes

Pairing: Ezra x Female Reader

Length: 15.1k

Warnings: enemies to lovers, magical fantasy au, only one bed, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v, threat of violence, angst with happy ending, hints of a breeding kink

Notes: Made for the lovley @supernaturalgirl20 for the Pedrostories secret santa 💜. The length got away from me as usual, I am so sorry. Hopefully it's something you end up enjoying!

Any hint of peace you awoke with this morning was quickly dashed the second you made it to the market. It was a quiet walk there, through the clearing of trees near your home there was a hint of fog remaining that sat on the forest floor. The air was cool and crisp that was mixed with dew that still dripped from the leaves. You got to enjoy the time it took to get to town only to have it dashed the second you approached your little nook. 

The tiny open clearing shoved between two well constructed vendors with fine, rich wood stood out against then soft fabrics hanging down as makeshift walls and one spread onto the floor to cover the stone pathway you occupied. Whatever tables and chests you kept there though, were turned over, tossed around and the tall narrow shelf had been knocked over to forcefully part if it sat in jagged pieces. 

The man next to your nook, just arriving had seen the state of your shop and the instant upset plastered all over your face and just chucked before ignoring you once again. You weren’t popular and you knew why, but the other vendors wouldn’t do this. There was only two options as to who would be responsible for it and one of them was quickly approaching, the streak of blonde against his dark hair stood out even from a distance. 

If Ezra or his men were responsible for this, at this point you might just give up. Leave town and never come back. 

Busying yourself, you now sat on your knees trying to match the broken wood to the remainder of the shelf hoping it wasn’t beyond your ability to fix. You already knew you’d have to repair it yourself, or somehow bargain desperately for a new one and end up dragging it across the market alone anyways. 

“Now who would let a misfortune like this fall upon such a prestigious saleswoman?”

You hated when he did this. His polite yet ecliptic vocabulary suddenly turning needlessly formal and condescending as if to mock you for your lack thereof. Glancing up, Ezra stood with an arm resting against the side of the other vendor looking around at the mess. You didn’t need this right now, not from him. “Go away, Ezra.” 

You didn’t need to look back up at him to know he grinned at you, the few steps he took inside already putting him rather close to where you knelt. You could see his feet, dirty yet formidable boots just at the bottom of dark trousers the only thing in your eye line. 

“Now is that anyway to greet a helping hand?” 

Jaw clenching, you refused to give him the satisfaction of having to look up at him from this position, as if he were too good to stand face to face. “What are you gonna do, rip down my rugs from their walls to finish the job? Haven’t you done enough?” 

His chuckle that followed infuriated you. He still didn’t even try to meet your eye, instead choosing to pace around the rest of the space inspecting what he could. “Now birdie, you aren’t insinuating that I am responsible for such a mess? I’m insulted, I thought we knew each other better than that.” 

Squeezing your eyes tight for just long enough to catch a deep breathe, you opened them only to see the beginnings of the usual early risers wandering into the street. “Why wouldn’t it be you? Either you did it out of spite because I wouldn’t give it to you, or you came looking and trashed everything trying to find it yourself.” 

You think he might be directly behind you now, the prickling feeling against your spine that screamed at your vulnerability. “On the contrary, I asked politely if you would be willing to share your goods for a fair trade. Saying no was a valid choice on your part, I have no reason to punish you for it.” 

“As if you care about getting permission.” You muttered under your breath but his chuckle would have been warm and comforting if he was anyone else. Ezra side stepped around the shelf and stood at an angle to watch both you and the street. 

“I think you’re mistakening me for the only other gentleman petty enough to throw a tantrum such as this.” Ezra knew who did this as much as you did, but blaming him was easier then accepting that the real perpetrator would only escalate from here. “You should be grateful that he still doesn’t know where you live, birdie.” 

The sounds of cheery voices got louder as more people trickled into the market, looking to take advantage of the best items and produce before it was picked off. Some of which, started to look your way. Judgmental laughter and whispers that pointed towards you made your eyes sting. You didn’t want to be mocked right now, all you wanted to do was go home, but even then you had to stay and fix your nook. No one else certainly would. 

“I have things to do Ezra. We both know you’re not going to help me, so just go rally your men and stampede through the woods or whatever you do.” Alright, that may have been you acting petty this time. You knew what he did for a living in detail just like he did you. It was probably the only reason he was one of the few people who would talk to you in this town, if only to put down your failures for his success 

Peeking a glance up, you could see his jaw shifting in thought. His eyes squinting as his head turned up into the rising sunlight, and turn on his heels to leave. Not before suddenly flipping up one of your smallest tables onto its feet, slamming his palm down on the top to show off how unsteady the wobble had become from being tossed over. 

A grin once again plastered over his face, he shifted it right in front of you to an innocent wide eyed look. Pointing at the wobbling table as he took his hand off of it, “You should really buy a new one, that’s rather unsafe to have around like this, birdie.” 

Ezra didn’t wait for your reply, he knew you wouldn’t. He simply walked out into the market, a light curious look gracing his features as he meandered to other vendors, happily chatting with the likes of who would never give you the time of day. 

It didn’t take brains to know that anyone passing by stared at you and whispered to one another as you tried setting everything upright. He was right though. The cheap little tables you owned were in bad shape, the threat of something with any real weight may topple the legs over for good.

The shelf you didn’t know how to fix. Your home was filled with furniture crafted from stone that existed in the cozy hut when you came across it for the first time. You had to plea with the carpenter for days and products of value at least four times greater then the cost of his cheapest work. But you needed something, and that day you had spent the entire afternoon dragging the furniture across the length of the street. 

You weren’t quite so sure he would even give you that this time, you were far less liked now than you were then. Most people considered trading with you as cursed, only the ones in specific need or an uncaring courage would even approach you for business.

Even then, they usually traded in spare food or run down fabrics hardly of use to them anymore. Almost never coin. The outsiders or ones passing through town the only ones who bought in coin, but just because they didn’t know of you. 

Eventually, you neatly stacked the broken shelf into the back and pushed the tables up against each corner to keep them steady for the remaining day and night until you found a way to fix it. 

It was humiliating to leave, your bag of items still strung across your shoulders as full as when you arrived. You were right, the carpenter wanted nothing to do with you. Not even gracing you the privilege of speaking to him inside, rather he elected to lean out the door that was just open enough of fit his body. 

You tried elsewhere, offering any trade or coin you had to even buy simple tools to try and fix it yourself, but no one budged. The only people willing to accept anything were produce stands who were constantly flooded with people. It at least let you try and blend in with your quiet asks and gentle payment that you could buy what you could before they realized and told you to get lost. 

You chose to do simple foraging for the rest of the day, wandering the patches of field not yet cut down and plowed over by the magistrate. You were always spoiled in lavender here, and it was going to be a sad day when they finally decided to lay it over as more land for his estate. 

The sun had set on your journey back. The market empty save for those just passing through in the darkening sky. Chattering and joyous laughter echoed through the stone from the tavern, no doubt the destination of most. Keeping your head down, you only looked up to peek inside your nook to make sure the mess wasn’t back. 

In fact it was the opposite. Your tables were gone from the corners and the pathetic pile of broken wood removed. Instead, all set up in the exact way you would lay things out was fresh wood. Walking in you immediately trailed your hand over the tables.

They weren’t just smooth and well carved, they were strong and unmoving. A quality wood was used to make these. And right near your lone stool, sat a shelf. The same woodwork and strength on the make of it, but the shelves now instead of sitting thin and sometimes too high for your reach, they were wider the insides more deep and barley went above your height. 

You bit your lip in a contrast of joy and apprehension. This was more than you ever would have asked of these people and it was going to be so wonderful to be able to set everything out so nicely and without accidentally shaking things against the other. 

On the other hand, you also didn’t know who did this. You were pretty sure it wasn’t Ezra. He in all likelihood wasn’t the one who threw your stuff around, so he also had no reason to replace it. The only other one who could have done this, would only then replacement as a trick. 

If it was him, no doubt the next time you came into town, you’d be summoned to his home, and graced with his generous gift to you only to ask for something in return. But the things he would want you feared. He wasn’t a kind man or even just a good one. Just selfish and greedy with no regard as to how he got what he desired. 

The magistrate was not to be trifled with, and not only had you on too many occasions made an enemy of him, but he also had no qualms about his glee from extracting revenge. Ezra wasn’t much different, but at least you were confident enough his revenge for you would be more akin to sabotage then physically harming you. Either way, you walked much quicker home then normal. Checking around you many times to see if you were followed. 

By the time you arrived it was pitch black. If someone had been watching you, they wouldn’t be able to get in was the only assurance you had. Your palms were pushed up against the wooden door, only turning your head enough to look out at the darkness around you. 

You never could see it yourself, but you felt it. Almost like a shock, a pulsating wave of energy surged through them was the only indication you had of what you were doing. To any onlookers, they would just see a strange golden glow flash over your eyes, and a ripple of the same gold quickly flash around the perimeter of your home like a fire. It flashed into existence in an instance, and circled around your hut and disappeared just as quick the further it went. Like a tail following the light. 

You finally went inside, and the only evidence of life to be seen was the gentle orange flow of light peeping through the closed shutters. Your only solace within the small space, but enough to keep your heart and mind from spiralling too far.

While leaning over to peer into the fireplace where a large stirring pot hung above the coals, a memory popped into your head. Ezra had approached you one day outside your hut. You had been placing small piles of feed around the backdoor steps, enticing the curious squirrels to come closer to you. 

Just as a particularly friendly one was slowly making it’s way close to you, something behind you had startled it away. It was only a second late that the distinct shuffling of feet in the grass had you whip around, wide eyed and almost immediately out of startled breath. 

It was the first time you had seen him alone, no large brutish men at his side waiting for any preferably aggressive order. His bright brown eyes gleaned in the sunlight as he took in your small abode. “Hard to imagine such strange and powerful concoctions have been so beautifully crafted in such an unimpressive structure. You didn’t respond, just clenched your hands in the clothes at your side as he turned his head to look at you nonchalantly. “The inside must truly be a wonder.” 

He didn’t make a move to go inside, but you shifted just slightly to have a better chance at beating him to the door if necessary. “What I do is none of your concern.” 

Ezra smiled, a typical response to your irritation towards him. “Oh quite the contrary, what you do is of great interest to me. Especially when it is my territory you are encroaching on.” Before you even had a chance to speak, he begun pacing around the outside of your small back garden. “Don’t you give me that look, birdie, you know exactly where I am talking about.” 

You did, but calling it his territory wasn’t fair. He had no right to claim what was apart of nature. “You can’t just kick me out because you got there first.” 

Ezra’s head tilted to the side, a pretend doubt crossing his features before making his pace direct towards you. “You twist my intentions here, I come here not to conquer, but to bargain.” He stood over you, feeling more tall then he likely was.

He was a large man with a broadness to him that took up much of your view. The glint in his deep brown eyes always crafting an agenda he kept to himself. You had once overheard a conversation about certain...endeavours he engaged in, but they had walked away before you learned anything else. So the softness of his features that framed his face so pleasantly made you all the more angry. 

“What could you possibly offer me that I’d want?” 

Ezra smirked, leaning close enough to feel every exhale. “Protection.” 

Looking back on it, you knew he had been purposely vague. You had yet to have any problems with someone other then Ezra and his men, but he knew better. He knew exactly what would start to happen should and when the magistrate learns of your existence but he didn’t even have the courtesy to warn you. 

Your face fell further and further into a glare. “I don’t need protection, and I don’t need pity. You take what you need from these creatures by force, I don’t. I have no reason to be fearful from anything except men like you trying to trick me.”

His face didn’t change, at least from a distance. Up close though, his eyes narrowed just the slightest, a darkness brewing in the corners of them that made you uneasy. You couldn’t show it though. “It’s not your talent I’m doubting birdie, it’s your naivety that has me extending an offer.” 

The conversation didn’t last much after that. He knew right away that you felt insulted and took more than a few steps back from you, arms out in surrender. “I mean no offence, simply just looking out for a fellow collector such as myself.” 

Your head was beginning to hurt, “You don’t collect anything but to willingly hand it over to men somehow worse than you. I don’t create anything harmful with what I have and I don’t need to shed any blood to get it.” 

Ezra opened his mouth but you had enough. “Go away. I have things to do, and I don’t want you lurking around for any of it.” 

The darker look faded to a discernible one. It was softer and much more downtrodden, but you struggled to put any distinguishable feeling to it. He raised his hands high in almost a wave as he back away. Reaching the end of what you circled out as your land, Ezra looked towards the piles of left over seeds, then to you as you stood perched on the bottom step. “Best be careful with feeding these ones, get them too familiar and they’ll dig into your garden crops like vultures.” 

Ezra had been a continuous adversary every since. Always holding his upper hand over you with confidence and leaving helpful hints or tips only to rub in how much better he has fared in the same work you do. 

Only now in present times, you had something over him even as small as it was. A little something that made you keep your shutters closed to the world, and create a barrier from any greedy hands from finding out. 

The next time either of you ran into each other, the sun was looming low in the sky and you had at least some modicum of success in what you sold. Mostly trades today but enough coin to procure some winter seeds to add to your storage. Surprisingly, you had very little trouble. 

The new woodwork was exactly as it was put, you were able to give people their specific requests. Shockingly, most people who wanted to avoid you suddenly were kind and forgiving when they came to you to help with a specific ailment. They didn’t know why your small vials did more to help than anything the town doctor could treat, but when they needed medicine they always came sneaking over to you.  

You always did it, no matter who asked you of it and yet it never changed how far they would go to stay away from you afterwards. 

It was right as your hut came into view that you saw him. His broad stature leaning up against the stone wall, a troubled look on his face. You paused in your step, staring at him with wide eyes and a heart beating faster and faster. He typically left you alone here, but the sudden feeling of being watched the night before reared its ugly head. 

You stepped slowly, looking at him distrustingly despite him never moving. “You. You were watching me last night. Why? Did you hide here or just follow me home?” 

Ezra shrugged to himself as he pushed up off the wall. “It’s been a time since I’ve found my way around here, the work you’ve put into this is quite extensive. You should be proud.” There was no threatening manner as he came to a stop in front of you, but his eyes watched you almost like he was caught between the now, and lost in a distant thought. “The protective charm even moreso.” 

Panic flooded your veins and swam all the way into your heart. The townsfolk threw cruses of a witch at you, but all baseless accusations. You didn’t know anyone had seen it for themselves. You wanted to step back, maybe run from him but there was no use. He wasn’t done anyways. 

“I have something I would like to talk to you about, but I suggest we do this in the privacy of your own home. It pertains to our...line of work.” Ezra's eyes darted around him with a suspicious glean. 

“Why would I ever let you in where I live? You’ve never given me any reason I could possibly trust you-”

Ezra stepped into your personal space so quickly you had no time to back away before he was leaning close into your own face. “I’d keep your voice down, birdie. The trees have ears, afterall.” 

So what you thought. You had no doubt Ezra likely had men hidden around him no one could see or even know about. “They know what you know anyways just say what you want then leave.” His eyebrows raised almost in warning to play along with something you didn’t know the rules to. “Just get this over with so I can go inside.” 

His eyes once again seemed to squint, scrutinizing something behind you before leaning back into your space, a hand finding it’s way to rest on your arm. As you tried to flinch away, Ezra yanked it back with little force as he spoke low and commanding. “Either you let me inside to speak with you calmly, or I can walk away now and let the magistrates esteemed crew of untrained degenerates finally catch up and do it for me.” 

You bit your lip, the thought of how they knew where you lived now darting in your brain. He only could have found it if Ezra was the one to tell him. But standing here in your face, he insisted once more. 

“Just a short talk, birdie. One collector to another.” It was so fast you almost missed it. A blink of colour swirling through his eyes and gone again, shined bright in your face the glow of gold that you saw in your own doings. 

This was something else entirely. He didn’t just know about you, he recognized it from himself. Looking away you tried to peek to the side to see anyone else around but you stood in the front of your hut alone. You didn’t look at him as you nodded, but he let go of your arm as he stood back to proper height. 

You hesitated by the door. There was no going back after this, you couldn’t hide what was inside but you had a heavy feeling in your chest that he was here about that very secret. So you unlocked your door, and made just enough room for him to come inside. 

Before closing, you peered out to the treeline. Nothing still in sight, but a shimmer of gold trailed itself along the ground anyways.

Locking behind you, you pressed your back against the door fingers tapping at the wood as he strode around. The ceiling not many inches higher then he was, and his broad frame took up much of the space. Peering at the kitchen which mostly consisted of shelves along the wall stocked full of an assortment of things, and the even smaller counters also full with bowls, pots, and anything and everything you needed to store your medicinal liquids. 

The most notable part was the large hanging pot set firm in the fireplace with a few chairs surrounded by far too many books on the floor then you were okay with, but it was small. The half shut door to your washroom was just as uninteresting as anyone elses, and the closed door to where you bed lay went unseen by his investigation. You knew Ezra lived in a proper house, on real owned land with space for anything he desired. This must be pathetic in comparison. 

“Cozy, very cozy. I am indeed impressed, once again I might add.” The stiff troubled look on his face had almost died completely now that you both were tucked inside your hut, but you still felt rigid wondering when the first noise from your closed room door would become too distinct for Ezra to not hear. 

“What do you want, Ezra?” Your voice smaller and weaker then you wished it was. 

His fingers trailed over the stone slabs carved into seats of some kind around a carved in table to the wall. “I had a visit from the lovely magistrate himself this morning. He seeked the answer to a question I knew I shouldn’t answer, but I had only just been rudely awoken. I wasn’t quite ready to be so propositioned to early.” 

You had yet to move, but your eyes glanced to the door every few seconds as you let him speak. A thing he was always better at then you. “You see, he’s been using my own, creations,” Ezra almost gestured in a silly manner as if subtly hinting at the one thing you both already knew the other did. “He also, has requested your own kinds on more than one occasion, testing the use of both to see if his own, lets say..indiscretions could be better treated. At first there was no one vial better then the other. Our work was equally matched.” 

His head looked up to your worry one, but not in mockery, it appeared to be a compliment. You could insult him all you wanted, but he did work just as hard as you to acquire and create your vials of ailment. You also knew where he was going with this story. 

“But not long ago, something changed. He would praise my work up and down, each time showering me with gloat and greed for my offering, only to then show me my work he had been using. And find out it was actually yours.” He paced very slowly around the small space once more as he now looked anywhere but you, a deep furrow in his brow as he spoke again.

“Not a very observant man for someone claiming to be as prestigious as he. He was quite rattled by the revelation, and just today has demanded I find out how you’ve done it and either bring you to him myself, or take your work from you by force.” 

Unknowingly you had slunk back against the door, trying to make yourself smaller as the stupidity fell over you. Everything should have been so obvious but it wasn’t until now. 

His men had always called what they did hunting dragons, but it dawned on you that Ezra never did. He only called what he did collecting, much in the way you just said you collect from the creatures you work alongside of. 

Your mixture of slow and steady kindness and finally a shared understanding of over worldly ability, did take what you needed as you left gifts in return. Tales of dragons painted them as fierce destructive creatures but most lived in saved solitude, wanting peace as much as you did. 

Something about the almost ethereal bodies of water that sat within the caves held some properties not found in the nature around you otherwise. Their eyes casted gold matching displays of shimmer, and you now realized that it must have reflected in their eyes making you one in the same. 

“He doesn’t know about you. That I never spoke of.” You were still pressed up against the door, but Ezra stood in the middle of the room, nonthreatening and doing no more then gently tracing his eyes and fingertips along innocent surfaces. Your muscles were stiff as you pushed off, pulling your bag over your shoulders. 

He watched you hang it across the corner of a bookshelf, no real space around you to put it anywhere proper. You weren’t sure you were brave enough to come closer, in fact you weren’t sure you ever wanted to be near him again after this. He knew about you because he was one in the same and yet he continued to align against you for money. 

Your voice was quiet, tight and rigid as you almost spoke through your teeth knowing where this tale was headed. “But he wants to know what I’ve done to make my vials so drastically different.” Your eyes met this time, and he appeared a tad guilty for reasons you couldn’t discern. “And you’re here to get that information by force. Right? That’s how your men do all of their work.” 

Your body jolted upright as Ezra suddenly stalked towards you, slinking coyfully like a snake for attack. “My men, are merely brutes who once worked for the great magistrate himself. Gifted to me for protection after being gifted the firsts of my work. They work by force, I however, am far more interested in the journey then skipping right to the climax.” 

His smirk had a darker tone lurking behind it, but not one of danger. You didn’t know why he was toying with you that way though. Just taking advantage of towering over you in such a small inescapable space. If he heard how hard you swallowed your nerves, he didn’t move or peep a word on it. “I offered you protection once, and by now I’d have assumed you understood it wasn’t from me. Not a quick as you claim you are.” 

You wanted to be angry at his condescension, but your brain hazed over with a confusing fog that offered no solace. “Why would you care, you don’t even like me.” 

A dark tone remained, but also glazing over with a much more familiar amused grin. “Now when have I ever claimed such a thing, birdie?” He gave a full laugh at your deepening glare.  You knew he was toying with you, but why did he have to do it here in the sanctity of your own home? 

Ezra had the audacity to reveal a huge secret about him and expose that he knows one of yours, and yet here he stood giving you the same treatment he always has as if nothing’s changed. Unfortunately for you, opportunity struck at the worst time possible. 

Tiny chirps echoed from the closed bedroom door, before morphing into squeaky roar like growls as your other secret vied for attention. There was no escaping this one. Ezra of all people, knew exactly what that sound was. His head swivelled to face the door, a curious look spreading across him as he took a step to the side. He faced you but was making his way over. 

“Now what on earth I ask, could possibly make such a notable sound hiding away in the only room I have yet to be shown?” 

You fidgeted in place, crossing and uncrossing your arms before finally sighing deeply with your head hanging low. “You know exactly what that is.” 

Looking back up, Ezra wasn’t looking at you in superiority, nor nefarious and smugly. No he was looking at you in an almost curious awe. He didn’t make any other steps towards your door but neither did you.  He was sent here for one reason, and if not for you he’d likely take this as compensation. The magistrate wouldn’t do any good with it. He has no idea how to work with a dragons ability, he’d end up killing it. 

 Your voice was just a tiny whisper. “You’re just going to take it from me.” 

If you didn’t know better you’d say Ezra looked sad, almost shameful for giving you such distrust. He only said two words, and you knew that no matter if you were equally matched, he was bigger and stronger and he would overpower any fight back. 

“Show me.” 

Chest constricting, you disguised your panic and pounding fear with a steeled, flat gaze. You made the small way to your bedroom door hand paused at the handle and other palm pressed against the wood wishing you could apologize to your companion in advance for what you were bringing in. You felt Ezra presence at your back, but sighed without turning your head to him. 

“He’s gentle with me, but please don’t be forceful with him. He panics easily.” The man gave no response and you weren’t sure if it was out of focused curiosity, or he simply didn’t care about your request. Pushing the handle, you walked into the room as you opened the door to see what the fuss was all about. 

He was small, still a baby. Not even a foot long in length or even wingspan, and skinny with little scales to show off. His high pitched roars only were able to come out as somewhat of a coo, which purred softly at the sight of you, only to cause him to hiss and fling his small body back against your bed as Ezra came in behind you. 

Instantly you knelt down closer to his height on the bed, a shushing noise coming from you. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Come on, it’s alright.” At this point you tried not to help him up, he wanted to do it himself getting used to his wingspan proportioned oddly with his small stature. 

Ezra behind you sounded in awe, a tone akin to a dry croak as he whispered with no trace of malice or intent. “How on earth did you secure such a creature?” 

Your tiny friend tilted his head at you, making you smile. You sat down on your knees to allow him to hobble up close, communicating in a cooing that you had come to learn was suspicion. Ezra appeared in your side view, but only slightly bent at the knees as his hands rested on them. He seemed to understand the creature was wary of him and didn’t come over to quickly. “This is why you’ve come up with such powerful creations. You’re not just trying to add to their properties, you’re creating alongside them.” 

Your friend hopped to look at Ezra with another head tilt. Seemingly taking his respect and curiosity as no hostile intentions. Slowly Ezra bent down more to crouch beside you as you spoke. “Not really them, just this one. I didn’t even realize I had him until I came home one day from the caves. He must have snuck into my bag and hide until he knew it was safe.” 

Ezra furrowed his brows as he peered at you without quite taking his eyes off the infant dragon. He knew you weren’t talking about anything you did. The only other humans who dared to venture into a dragons cave was himself and the brainless brawn that had been assigned to assist him. “I was in another cavern then you. I don’t even think you knew I was there. Your men were yelling and screaming somewhere not too for away at what sounded like a very angry adult dragon. I also could hear you yelling at your men in even louder anger but it was too muffled through the cave walls to understand.” 

The infant dragon stepped closer to the edge of the bed, his feet carried him closer to the safety of your familiarity, but his small slit gaze eyed Ezra and his hands that rested in front of his body still not breaching the bed’s edge. “I don’t know why he was alone, but I think the sounds scared him. Something must have made him trust me, because I hadn’t even realized I had company until we were here.” 

For one, the man beside you was rather silent. His usual ability to find endless things to speak on suddenly quelled by the strange series of events unfolded in such a short amount of time. So you took over his role, filling the void with the only thing you could. 

Hoping desperately that if you softened the blow to him, just maybe he could convince the magistrate to at least to try and not harm him. “There's so much more they can do, Ezra. It’s like their waters is just one aspect of their ability. Just drops of blood or a tear, even the flame is something else all together. Like the ones we see is just defensive, but I’ve seen him gently blow out a blue almost green colour. It’s like they have all of this just inside of them, but-” 

Ezra interrupted with an affection you’ve never heard from him. “But it’s like they need someone with out abilities to create something out of it.” 

Your tiny friend finally took tiny hops over to him, his gaze falling from what he likely thought was a flaring dangerous slit in his eyes back over to the brightness inside them. Ezra still didn’t reach out to touch him, and it didn’t go unnoticed how respectful he was being. 

A side you’ve never seen before, or not at least to this extent. He was competitive with you to an infuriating degree, but you had to give him credit that never once has he tried to sabotage your own work. You were starting to think it should count for something. 

The silence was palpable but not uncomfortable. He and the dragon looked at one another, almost communicating in the same ways you did with the small creature. It left an odd feeling in your chest. How close you both were in such a vulnerable moment that almost no person gave you the time of day to experience. 

A fondness crept up in your throat that you didn’t appreciate, he was only being kind to manipulate you into giving you or your companion up without a fuss or fight. You needed to remember that as you watched Ezra smile so genuinely at the dragons little huff. His wings flapping and a hop in place you knew what he was asking for. “I assume your new partner wishes to find a home near your fireplace.”

 You turned to look at his side profile only to startle at how close he was, looking directly at you. “Judging by how cool it is in this room, especially now that the sun’s left us.” Not thinking twice, a motherly instinct took over as you stood up instantly and put a hand hovering over the creatures back, prompting him to the edge of the bed. 

“Come on, let’s try this again. You’ve gotten so much better at it since last week.” You bent over closer to his head to murmur much quieter. “It’s not going to hurt you remember? That’s why we put the rug down, you can do it.” 

Wiggling in place, the small creature flapped it’s wing and jumped. Only to fair a few centimeters in distance before losing his steadiness and tumbled to the ground. Just like you reminded him, he wasn’t hurt by it. But embarrassed? Absolutely. Much like a cat, he scrambled onto the wooden floor and took off in a pattering sound to his favourite spot curled up just in front of the fire away from the scene of the so called humiliation. 

Which just so happened to be in the middle of the largest free space. You’ve learned quite quickly to forge a path around tight gaps and strange angles to climb over. 

Ezra came right beside you, his arm so close to touching yours that you felt the warmth radiating from his skin. His voice deep and almost a raspy quiet near your ear. “It’s miraculous what you’ve done. These aren’t easy creatures to gain so much trust in, but this one looks at you like a mother. And you love him like one back.” 

Your head whipped around to him in shock. His voice was an admiration never given to you before from him, and his eyes swam with a genuine affection you couldn’t quite name. His dark eyes bore into yours unwavering. As if he saw right through whatever walls were in place and carved it’s way right to your insides, and it was too much for you to handle. 

Looking away, you crossed your arms over your stomach and shuffled your feet. You weren’t sure if he even heard your tiny plea. “I’m going to miss him.” 

But he did, and Ezra’s face fell into a conflicted frown that let a kind of heart wrench peek out from it. You hadn’t gotten but a few feet into the main room again when you both heard it at the same time. A bundle of voices in uniform tones. 

For the briefest of moments, you had seized up. They had never found you before, and you hadn’t thought to take any precautions when leading Ezra inside. He on the other hand, wasted no time. 

His large stature allowed him to get to the front window shutters in but a few steps, his body flat against the wall as he peeked out of the cracks. A distinct golden flash in his eyes. You don’t know why, but for just a moment, you wondered if yours looked just as beautiful or if it was just an extension of his own. 

Shaking it off quickly you stepped over to the door next to the window he looked out of. Hands fumbling with the locks, not even having the foresight use the very abilities they likely were seeking you out for. 

Whipping around your eyes blazed in fury, “You said you were here alone, you told me you came here alone that I wasn’t going to be taken by force,” Fire blazed in your eye but your trembling voice, the unsteady shake of your hands told a story of hurt and betrayal. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you, you just wanted one thing from me-” 

Ezra invaded your personal space with a dangerous look of warning as he seemed to command you silent with a slip of your name past his lips. “This was not my doing. I told you he would rather steal you from your own home, but I implored him to let me go in place.” 

You shook your head and tried to back away, but there was really nowhere to go. The hut was small and the door was pressed up against a flat wall. “You’re the only one who knows, about me, about here.” Ezra's hands reached out in the air to placate you but realization dawned in your eyes. “It was you, last night you were the one watching me, you destroyed my stuff? For what? To scare me into thinking it wasn’t you? To trick me into gaining your trust so you can lead them right to me?” 

Your voice grew and grew into a shattering panic, but Ezra all put pushed you against the wall with his step forward. Dark eyes infuriated and a snarl willing itself onto his face. “I protected you. I kept his men away from you, don’t you dare stand there and accuse me of forcing you into anything.” 

The sounds of voices grew louder and as you turned to open the door to attempt a protective charm, Ezra snatched your wrist in mid air and gripped it tight. “Ezra I-” 

“Already have done it myself.” At your shifty gaze to the door again he pulled your wrist in closer. “You were panicked and froze, I took up the mantle myself.” 

He still refused to let go of your arm when you tried to pull back again. His body was still and unmoving as much as his heavy gaze on you as if this didn’t at all phase him. “I didn’t freeze, let me go I’ve casted one several times-”

His face leaned into a mere inch or two from your face, he hand pulling your arm behind him enough that it forced your chest far closer into his own. The slightest sensation of this thumb running over your skin sent a shiver through you as did his low tone. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing, birdie. I am perfectly capable of taking care of you.” 

A tiny hiss spat out, and the two of you looked to the fireplace to see the tiny creature lifting his head up just enough to watch Ezra with hostility. Hand still in mid hair, he let go of you and lowered his own slowly in the creature’s view. It seemed satisfactory as he once again curled his long neck up onto his body looking like a lumpy ball on the floor. 

A beat of silence passed between you. There wasn’t an aggressive attack towards you nor was there more shouting or orders passed around. Ezra’s hands sat on his hips as he looked down slightly, giving you a modicum of space. “I wouldn’t worry much, those appear to be meager footmen not soldiers of any effectiveness. They’ll simply watch and pray for you to come out willingly until dawn hits and they need to return.”

Luckily your new friend seemed unaffected by any of this. Sleeping soundly in front of a cozy warm fire, uncaring about the current situation. Most likely he’d stay asleep until early morning when he knocks over things in your tiny kitchen seeking easy food. 

“You uhm,” your fingertips tapped against your legs as you avoided eye contact. “You’ll need to stay. I might not be able to make a new one in time if you leave. Especially empty handed.”

Ezra nodded understandingly, he turned to the room and once again found himself milling about the small space, not even needing to watch his feet as he comfortably stepped over the green lump on the floor. “Good thing you have such generous accommodations for such an occasion.” You rolled your eyes as your body relaxed in a slump. “I’ve always felt as if the rough edge of a stone stool makes for a tremendous resting spot.” 

Your arms crossed against your stomach once more as you walked into the other side of the room, not like it made much of a distance between you granted. “I- you’ve been...kind..today. Other days, I don’t really..it’s been a strange evening.” 

“That it has.” His calm unchanging demeanour was either an inhuman blessing or a purposeful tool to stay one level above you. But you had no energy to fight him for it. 

You ended up by the kitchen and tapped your fingers against the little counter space untouched by clutter. “I don’t have much to offer, but I have a little bit of stew and some day old bread I got from the market today...” 

It was awkward, offering him such normal things in your evening routine, but he was kind enough not to make jabs at you for it. He did however, narrow his eyes slightly. “Now birdie I know for a fact that very seller makes his bread fresh into the evening.” 

You shrugged your shoulders, but turned to busy yourself in gathering what was left of the stew made the day before. “Not like he is going to sell his finest or freshest to me of all people.” You muttered just under your breath, but not enough for Ezra’s fine hearing to catch it. “Him or anyone else.” 

Your back was turned, missing the frown he gave as well as his quick appearance behind you. You almost jumped at the sight of him so close. His large hands quick to hold onto your arms gently to keep anything from spilling over. 

Without removing his hands, they slid down the length of your upper arms to your hands as he kept eye contact. “I’ll assume you can trust to let me handle the act of pouring liquid into pot and scooping it back out.” 

This time your eye roll was less annoyed and for closer to playful as you nodded, and let him take it from you. Only turning long enough to realize he would need a ladle, and seeing you already grabbed one for him. 

“I’ll leave you to the bread.” 

The next little while was actually quite peaceful. Ezra’s comfortable silence as he knelt by the fireplace watching for a boil. Not even the interruptions of silence as he mindlessly chattered at the sleeping dragon bothered you. 

He steered clear from today's events. Choosing to go about the casualness of his day, and prompting you with genuine questions about yourself. Questions you found yourself easily answering without hesitation. It wasn’t long until it felt like a real conversation, and it didn’t even occur to you how strange it was compared to the usual hostility between you both. How easily warmth and laughter was shared when your greivences were set aside. 

Ezra was quicker than you to get used to it, he was almost making you second guess the ways he interacted with you. Making you wonder how much of that hostility stemmed from just you. There was a guilt there, the wonder of how much of his hostility did you deserve for the way you’ve treated him first. 

That was a feeling which grew louder the longer as the evening turned into night. You couldn’t let him sleep out here, there was no space for his broad stature and the only thing not with a stone base was your bed. It would be large enough, but the idea made your heart beat and your nerves to tighten. 

You’re head was muddled about him tonight but the idea of treating him as uncaring as you might have not too long ago suddenly didn’t sit right with you. Ezra had been milling about your space, commenting on your storage and ingredients, how well you’ve utilized such a small space for how much you do. 

He was mostly stalling as it grew closer for you both to go to bed, he didn’t want to make you feel awkward by going to sleep as you watched him find whatever space he could make for himself. Choosing to stay awake and preoccupied to spare you that, only you may not have given him that chance. 

You whispered his name, once, twice, until you knew he couldn’t hear you from your nervous spot at your door. You feared chickening out, so your mind blurted it out for you. “You should sleep in here.” 

He looked at you, a raise of his eyebrows at you hands wringing together in front of your open door, body standing to the side enough that would allow him room. “I understand perfectly, birdie. This is your sanctuary not mine, I have no need for-” 

“No, like...in here, with a bed..” His intense eyes with that unblinking stoicism had you nibbling on your bottom lip trying to sound more confident then you felt. “It’s...I told you that you’ve been kind to me today, even when I don’t really deserve it.” 

You weren’t looking at him, so you missed Ezra chomping at the bit to argue with you on that point, but you powered through those nerves anyways. “You shouldn’t sleep out here, that wouldn’t be fair. It’s the least I can do.” 

Your muscles felt like they tingled at the tender smile on his lips, making his way over to the lantern by the kitchen and blowing it out. You stood frozen watching him, his broad frame taking up so much room in this small space and his watchful eyes barley moving from you. He stood in front of you, his chest so close to yours and his face searching for an answer you didn’t know the question too. 

You seemed to square up as he leaned in, your eyes wide and unknowing to you, but flashing over with a desire he knew all too well. He was so close his nose almost brushed against yours before he raised his chin just over your shoulder to blow out the lantern by your heads. 

Now the only thing keeping the hut alight was the glow of the embers in the fireplace, and the much smaller flame in the one lantern in your bedroom. Ezra gestured for you to go ahead of him, casually pressing it against your lower back as he followed you inside. 

You quickly moved away from the side of the bed he was near to stand by the window, opening the shutters slightly more. Glancing over at him you just tilted your head to the sky outside, “So it’s not completely dark.” 

Ezra broke his gaze on you as he knelt down to take his boots off, as you merely slipped off the flat ones you wore in seconds. For a moment before he stood back up, your hands automatically went to untie the strings of your front before realizing you weren’t alone. Ezra had looked up to see a hesitation, hands fiddling with drawstrings that would reveal far more skin then he’s ever seen on you. 

Moving right up to the bed, Ezra just nodded for you to go around to your side. “I take no issue with keeping everything on if that’s what you are most comfortable with.” He peeled off his outer layer to show only his thinner long sleeved shirt underneath. The collar of the shirt undone and perhaps undone a far bit more then a commoner might deem acceptable. Without any other obstructing articles of clothing on his upper body, the skin exposed on much of the middle of his chest hummed with the orange glow of the room. 

Nothing else was taken off as he climbed under the sheets, his body leaning to sit up and watch. “It’s your bed, birdie. I want you to be relaxed.” 

“Relaxed?” 

Ezra lowered his head in almost a lecturing appearance, “Comfortable, birdie. I want you to be comfortable. Just lay down for me.” 

Why were your nerves so on fire? Why were you feeling this way towards Ezra of all people, no one in this town ever gave you enough mind to stir up this tightening warmth inside of you until here and now. But you climbed in otherwise. Slowly moving down to rest on your side as he watched you. 

“Ezra?” With a shake of his head whatever thought he was lost in went back out of focus. “The light? Could you?” 

Craning his head to the side, Ezra twisted just enough to blow it out. Setting the room dark, with the only light being streaks of a blueish tint from the moonlight. 

It didn’t take long for both of your eyes to adjust, and it was hard to ignore that the bed wasn’t large enough to create a wide gap between you, and that you both lay on your sides facing one another not yet asleep. 

The length of Ezra’s hand was the maximum amount of distance between your bodies and even in the moonlight you could see his brown eyes and their penetrating gaze on you. You tried to look away from his eyes, but instead of just closing them, you lowered them only to find yourself looking at the outline of chest that was exposed. 

Neither of you said anything, but there was no fooling. You both knew the other was wide awake. Your body felt tense as if it screamed at you to move more, but you laid so perfectly still that the arm pressed under you ached in the pressure. He was close and his features were so much more predominant in this glow.  

Not just the blonde against the dark hair, but his nose that framed his softness so handsomely that it made looking away from him a difficult task. His lips were hard to see, but you kept fighting to push back the images of how plump and soft they always were. 

You didn’t notice that you had started to shiver, but it wasn’t from the cold. Your nerves shook from this strange warm need and the fight against how complicated it made you feel. “It’s cold, birdie. Come closer, I run a twinge warmer then the average.” 

His whisper was raspy and it stunned you how badly you wanted to hear it again, so you didn’t move. Your free hand dug into the sheets in front of you as he spoke still quiet but more firm. 

“Always so stubborn for me.” 

Ezra moved a tad closer as he reached out to press against your back and lean you into him. His chest was so warm, and his arms were as large as the rest of him. You hadn’t thought about it when your fingertips reached up, a few of them hooking into the exposed collar of his shirt further down his chest. A spark buzzing into your body as you felt the brush of his chest against you. 

His own hand trailed up and down your back, exploring a place he’s never been. “Better?” 

It felt natural as you pressed a little closer to his front, a mutter of “You’re warm,” let a smile break out on his face that you couldn’t see. 

“Good.” It was a few minutes of silence, but his hand tracing your back over your clothes and the occasional shift and reaffirming your fingers hold on the edge of his open collar told you both neither was asleep Just like he usually did, it was Ezra who broke the quiet. “I wish you’d have learned by now, birdie that I don’t hate you. Quite the contrary.”

Such an emotional side wanted so badly to cling onto that as the truth, and as it turned out, having your body pressed against his in your own bed let that emotion win out. So you nodded with a hum. 

“You see how someone who does much of what you do, only I get treated without being insulted, shunned or talked down too. And I certainly haven’t made that feel much better for you by just letting myself play off of your easy annoyance with me. Though your face being rather cute when you’re grumpy may have played a role.” 

As much as you could you turned your head up to see him, but his own was tilted upward watching the shine of streaked moonlight against the ceiling as his hold on your back grew more solid. His press of you against his front much more distinct. “Most of these townsfolk have been cruel, and I am truly sorry for my own actions in that. You deserve to be treated better then to be outcasted like a curse.” 

You didn’t know why you did it, but you leaned back to catch his eye line better, your hand now pressing against his chest as it trailed back and forth from the broad strength of his torso to the softer stomach underneath and back. It wasn’t your mind that made the choice, it was an action guided by heart. 

Something Ezra had done for much of the day. But you still asked. “How would I deserve to be treated?” It was innocent, a genuine question. This town has pushed you into the mud and laughed when you struggled to stand up. 

Ezra’s jaw tensed, his body growing quite tense beneath your hand, and in response, you pressed more firmly against his chest to gently run down his torso hopefully more soothingly. It was a resolve of his will power that snapped. 

The second you trailed your hand just a tad further down, brushing over his shirt enough to just barley graze the coarse hair leading to a much different kind of touch. Maybe you hadn’t realized it, it was dark and you were quite gentle up until then. 

But the slightest pressure of your fingers close to his growing need erupted a boiling point within him. In a flash, Ezra grabbed your hand and flipped your body to fall flat on your back as he pressed up against your side, his upper body learning over yours to hold your hand down in his grasp. “It’s a dangerous game to toy with a man’s greed, birdie.” 

Your chest heaved to match the quickness of your heart. Where his body touched yours felt like a flame but one without the agony. You could better see him this way, his eyes dark with an undoubtable lust and his lips slightly parted with grit as he shamelessly looked over you. 

Did you mean it? Your sudden courageous touch closer to a part of him you thought he’d never care to give you? Was it what you always wanted but struggled to understand it? Your brain was so muddled as the authoritative press he had against your hand pinning it and you into place had part parts of you screaming. 

Your thighs rubbed together trying to quell the screams but it only caused his dark eyes to look down to the shuffling. His grip slowly released your fingers until they barley touched. Just as they parted Ezra almost violently pulled the sheets away from you. So quick you were unable to hide the desire the parts of you Ezra dreamt about most spoke. 

He pressed a palm onto the sheets closer to your waist as he raised his body enough to better lean over you. “If you’re toying with me, birdie, this is nothing short of cruel.”

It flew out of you in a breathe, no planned out thought behind it, only pure instinct. Your body writhed along the sheets just enough where you just barley felt your hips brush against his. “What do I deserve, Ezra?” 

His jaw clenched more as he leaned down, his nose brushing against yours and tracing it’s length. “Want? Or need?” When you didn’t answer a second later, Ezra moved his hand to dance over your waist and hips with a clenched hand needing more. “You can’t just want this, birdie. I need you to need it. I need you to tell it to me. Tell me you need this. Need me.” 

Just a single doubt of if this was a plot passed through you, but he played dirty if that was the case. He lowered his hips just enough for you to feel quite a hefty weighted pressure against your own hips. Not just heavy, but no doubt, something much more sizable then the very few you’d seen before. 

“I need you.” He was greedy and it wasn’t quite enough, but he knew you’d know what to give him.

“Please?” 

Christ almighty it wasn’t even a beg, it was such a sweet little ask. Almost innocent sounding if his cock wasn’t pushing into your hips begging for you to spread your legs. But it was a please that growled through him. 

His hand perched on the sheets rose up and grasped your jaw, his breathe hitting your skin as his lips brushed against yours with his sole response. “Thank you.” The only thing you felt next, was his lips harshly against yours, an aggressive commanding kiss that left you breathless with his greed. 

The very first thing you realized about Ezra as a lover, was he was unforgivingly passionate. His lips were soft but paired with a force that demanded you let him guide you. His kiss become more aggressive with each passing breathe until his tongue brushed against your lips. 

Your senses felt overwhelmed, all you could feel, hear, even taste was Ezra. Your hands grasped meekly at his shoulders while his own large ones encompassed your hips as he swung his legs over to hold himself over top of you. He squeezed handfuls in such a greedy tight grip that you couldn’t move them much. 

What he wanted. He didn’t grind his covered cock against you now, but he kept your hips pinned to his as he continued to keep the weight of it pressed into you. Let you feel him grow harder right against where he intended to devour. 

A small whimper left your mouth as he brushed his tongue once again at your mouth and he took his opening, sliding his tongue inside and brushing it against yours before pulling back and starting all over again. He coaxed you each time to explore his mouth as much as he did yours, one of his hands releasing your hip to cup the back of your head.

Pushing you up more into his mouth, keeping you connected as he gave a muffled moan as you finally felt the confidence to taste him as well. It wasn’t graceful or even delicate, no this kiss was messy. Ezra not caring for technique or talent, but keeping the taste of you with him any way possible. 

More then once you tried to pull back with a gasp of breathe only for him to follow your mouth once again. Your hands finally started to move, once again trailing the path you started only this time without the trepidation. 

Fingertips dancing at the bottom of his shirt, Ezra gave you no doubt. Pulling away from your mouth, a string of spit just barley there before breaking as he sat upright not taking his shirt off, but grabbing your hands and sliding them under the fabric for you. He leaned back into you, pressing his cock harder into your centre. Grasping your neck and jaw he turned you to his pleasure as his mouth moved up your neck, leaving a cool path in it’s wake as he nibbled a patch and then soothed it with his tongue before moving on. 

Your hips now free arched up into him with a gasp, the sting of his bite racked your body with an overwhelming need that made your hair stand on end. His unwavering focus left him barley separating from you as his beard and moustache rubbed into the sensitive skin he created. 

A stutter trembled out of your mouth as you felt his cock much more clearly. Your hands holding onto his waist as you moved slightly against him, feeling him grow harder against you. It also though, left you in great wonder as to where he truly started and ended. The firm pressure against you felt so much larger than you could imagine and you found a shameless greed fly through you wondering how heavy it would feel on your tongue. 

But the moment passed as your hands finally ran down to feel the coarse hair that set him off before. In a fleeting moment you suddenly pushed yourself up, forcing Ezra to sit upright once again his mouth draped open and swollen from his force. Your eyes this time held no insecurity. 

You shoved his shirt up the length of his torso before leaning up as much as possible to pull it off before he took over and yanked it the rest of the way. You felt a rush of desire at how truly large he was. Broad shoulders and chest with arms that could hold you down with no real force. Down and down was a softer stomach that was where your palms kept running over, dipping to the coarse hair and soothing back upward as he just watched you. 

Quickly he forced you back, his hands slamming down onto either side of your head as he rasped out, “It’s truly a crime that you’ve kept this breathtaking sight from the world.” His eyes slipping shut with a moan as your nails scratched ever so slightly below his waistline. 

“Oh? You have any intentions of sharing this with others?” Ezra’s eyes snapped open, the moonlight hitting his back hid the incredulous look on his face in shadow, but you certainly felt it as he sat back up grasping your thighs. 

“You misunderstand me birdie. I was being generous, what I meant was how much I can’t believe you hid any of this from me.” His hands grabbed the bottom of your skirts and bunched it up in his hands. “You’ve given yourself to me, and I am a selfish man.” He dragged it up and up exposing your skin to the cool air. “And I don’t share.” 

Pulling it up as much as he could, you had to move quick to sit up in time as he pulled it off of you completely. The only thing keeping you from him now was a flimsy piece of fabric he had every intention of keeping for himself. Like he said, Ezra was a selfish man and if this is the only time he can ever share this with you, then he damn well is going to keep a small part of it with him. 

You were quiet for a moment as he looked you over. His visibility much better then yours as the blue tint of the moon painted itself all over your skin. His hands once again on your thighs, he squeezed the flesh just as tightly as he did your hips. 

His voice was tight, strained. “You have no idea the pain it’s putting me in to stay gentle with you. You have the audacity to just lay there, showing me damn near everything I’ve ever dreamt about you but I’m still wrong.” 

Your face fell, spiralling down into a sea of what flaws he possibly hated so much to even point out. His grip on your thighs, his own face staring at your own chest tried to convince you otherwise. As did his own words. “Every night I imagine you just like this, you always slink up to meet me halfway, nails dragging over my chest with a knowing greedy look in your eye like an animal waiting to strike. But you now? You just lay there, looking at me with the most genuine eyes I’ve ever been graced with, and this...quiet uncertainty like I’m going to just take this all back.” 

You could feel your lungs constrict, a shame once again setting in that maybe this has all been your fault. That this rivalry towards one another has been one sided the whole time and that you should consider yourself lucky to be blessed with his patience for you. 

In theory, you followed what his dreams played out, but your palms smoothed up his chest not scratching nails, and there was no sultry look about you, but a genuine heart wrench. Your hands gently cupped the sides of his face, his facial hair scratching your palms beneath. “I, this isn’t your fault and I’m sorry.” 

Ezra raised an eyebrow and tilted his head in question. One of your hands danced along his collarbone to avoid this face. “Maybe it’s all been in my head, or it’s changed between us, or I just treated you this way for no reason but..it’s different, tonight- I don’t know how to, it’s.” You stopped, took a deep breathe as he patiently waiting for your thoughts to collect. “I don’t know if I want to go back to what we were after you walk out of here. I don’t know if I can go back to it.” 

Ezra didn’t respond, merely leaned down enough to gently kiss you, not pushing or pulling at you, just a chaste press of his lips against yours. “I had no intention of going back, birdie. I finally got you to open up to me, and like I said, I’m too selfish to let that slip away.” 

Shuffling back on his knees, Ezra grabbed your underwear and tugged it down. His eyes watching you the entire time. Your heart was almost too loud in your head but you pushed that way regardless. You lifted your hips, and let him pull it off, baring you to the cool air entirely. 

Sitting up on his knees, Ezra balled the fabric up in one fist, while pushing open your legs for him. You felt exposed, nervous at what he may think or see but you felt the pressuring shove to keep your legs spread wide the second you attempted to close them. 

“I promised something you deserve. Will you let me show it to you?” You nodded but your heart grew louder, thumping against your chest as he didn’t crawl back up to you. No, instead holding your legs out just slightly wider then his own broad frame as he leaned into the core between your thighs. 

You didn’t say anything, and Ezra had no intention on talking, not this typical way that is. His large hands spread your thighs as far as they could go to fit him, and your gasp of surprise caused a grin to form on Ezra’s face that could only be described as smug. 

With no warning, Ezra pulled you forward enough to lean his head against your mound, the sound and sensation of him inhaling your scent sending shivers throughout. “Now that, is more divine than anything you or I could conjure out of thin air.”

Your strength left you, back falling against the sheets losing sight of him completely as you were only now bent at the hips, at the will of the man you least thought would ever choose this with you. The tip of his nose nudged against your clit a few times, your hips jerking as tiny sparks of pleasure came alive. With one more tease left in him, Ezra shoved his face right between your legs, dragging his tongue up from your entrance and back up to your clit as he ran his mouth over it as if a kiss. 

Your moan turning into a whine as your legs were shoved just out of his way. Ezra’s eyes bore over your body as he took no slow enjoyment of making a show taking his pants off. There was no patience to drag his need out for you any longer. 

He didn’t give you a view for long, just enough to see the how large he was all over, and just a hinting outline of his cock that even for a flash, hung thick and heavy between his legs. But he once again took what he needed. This time no second was spared as he devoured you. 

His tongue tracing a path from your clit to your entrance and teasing you each time. Edging himself just enough inside you to garner a taste as it seized your legs up in tension, but the whines of your mouth had him smirking into your skin. “Ezra, please,” 

You didn’t know what you needed, but he did. Oh did he know. 

Ezra finally pushing his tongue inside of you, licking and tasting you as his hands once again grasped your thighs to push open. There was a twisting, burning fire flaming hotter and hotter with every stroke of his tongue and your moans weren’t the only ones. 

The vibrations from his own sounds contrasted with the otherwise softness of his mouth and tongue tasting between your legs but it was an overwhelming fire that threatened to take you, and he wished it too. Your arms grasping at the sides of your head as if in an agony of desire while he rode the wave of your writhing against the sheets. 

He seemed to mumble endlessly into you, nothing you could make out. There was a ringing in your ears that only heard the sounds of Ezra pushing you more and more towards the waters edge. A wet tasting as he refused to leave you to even speak his prayers of thanks for you to hear. 

His eyes darted open to see your hands dancing to find a grounding, and one of his took ahold of the closest to him. As he moved his body upwards, his mouth took focus on your desperate clit and it echoed your need through the air. His hand holding yours forced it onto your breast and squeezed tightly. Moving and encouraging you to pull and tease in tandem with his tongue on you. 

The other refusing to leave anything out, his larger hand took up so much more of you as he gave your breast such rougher touch then your own. But just as he nibbled oh so lightly at your sensitive clit, he grasped your nipple and tugged. A tight hold and rough tug that had you cry loudly. 

He did it again, and again each time his greedy licks turning into a much more feral buzzing in his body. A snarl left his mouth as you cried his name out, the only beg you knew and he yanked your hips up to his mouth more. His cock leaking onto your sheets as it pressed up against the bed, but he could ignore it. He couldn’t ignore how he licked into you with such aggression. 

A hand on your hip shifting only to roughly press against your clit once more and rub into you with a firm pressure refusing to give. He could sense your orgasm, your body tensing up as your cries turned to breathy gasps. Your insides like a coil ready to be let go, “Ezra, I-I’m-” 

He barley tore his mouth away. His lips brushing against your soaked folds with every breath, he could only hiss out through gritted teeth. “I know, give it to me, I need to taste you.” You stuttered trying to give any response but he couldn’t stop himself. “This cunt, this-” shoving his face once again to aggressively lick into you before speaking again, “magnificent cunt, let me taste all of you. And you can have me.” 

The vision of what outline you could see and the heavy bulge once pressed against you spun in your minds eye as you grappled with words. “I want, fuck I want it, I want you.” 

He still kept his pace but spoke with such ferocity to make you answer him. “What do you want, birdie.” You didn’t answer him again right away and he slapped the outside of your thigh. Not so hard it hurt but enough to make you jump. “Tell me what you want, whatever it is I’ll give it to you but I need you to say it.” 

Ezra hissed the words out and you forced yours through a gasp for air. “Your cock. I want your cock, inside me-please, god please, I need you to fill me.” You couldn’t even understand what you were saying, your orgasm teetering on the edge spilling out any desires you lusted for. 

He stopped though, his grip so tight bruises already asked to form, as his breath spat into you, “You need me to fill you up? Is that what you need?” 

“Yes, please Ezra please,” 

He pulled you over the edge in an instant. His tongue inside of you making a mess as he dragged it out of you and up to your clit once more, soaking you so much you could hear it. His mouth licked at your clit in short tight circles until it hit you like a wave. 

Nothing of matter cried out from your mouth, just pure pleasure as your back arched up and Ezra slinked back down to drink from you until he could feel your breathe settle from it’s frenzy. 

A man not of patience he shoved himself up your body and kissed you, even more sloppy then your first. Your own taste on his tongue and essence smearing over your face where it still sat fresh on his as he licked into your mouth with the exact same treatment. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and your hands grasped one shoulder blade and another through his thick hair as your legs wrapped higher on his hips. As he moved his hand down you felt his tip press up against your soaking wet cunt. Rubbing the thickness up and down smearing your own wetness and mixing it with the precum already on his cock.

Biting at your lip you dug your nails into his skin as he kept prodding his cock inside of you not even an inch. “Tell me again, birdie.” 

Before you could beg, he pulled from your mouth to look you in the eye as much as could be for so close. “Tell me you’ll have me now and tomorrow.” Your heart lurched in your chest, but you couldn’t remember the conflicts that plagued your relationship for so long. 

You could only hear a sincerity and a rough need edging on his tone. “Tell me this can be us now, and I’ll fill you up with me. I’ll fill you with every inch of my cock, and then I’ll fill you with my cum. Spill it all inside of you, maybe keep my cock shoved in there to force you to keep every drop.” 

His cock was almost properly pushing inside of you, but you knew he needed the words out loud. Gently, you raked your nails through his hair, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, his nose and back again all while he held his cock still. “This is us, this is all us.” You whispered against his mouth and a shaky breathe left him. “Now fill me Ezra, I want you, I need it all inside me.” 

He gave you no time to adjust, your cunt was so soaked as well as his cock that his entire thick length shoved into you with no resistance. You moaned the others names out, Ezra falling into your neck with moans and your head tossed back grasping onto him. 

Ezra didn’t pound into you as you thought he would. Instead he slowly dragged his cock along your walls, teasing every nerve inside of you as he slid in and out. Never leaving you, but making you relive how thick and deep he was every time. 

The wetness was almost obscene as the thrusted in and out of you. Without removing his head from your neck, he blindly pulled your legs higher along his hips and it let his cock slide deeper. You clenched around him as the stroked along a razors edge that startled you with how good it felt. His mouth dragged itself up to your ear as he kept his pace slow yet deep. 

“So good, you are unfair to me, birdie.” His voice rasped out, higher in pitch the more he thrusted into you. “You squeeze my cock so fucking good, fitting my cock as if we were created to lock together. You’re always so good, so talented, so fucking clever.” 

His thrusts pounded a little harder, and when you cried out louder, Ezra pained himself to pull back to a gentle slide inside of you. “You take such good care of the things you love. Now, will you let me take care of you? Spill my seed deep inside of you? Once? Twice? Will you let me fill your cunt up with my cum until it just can’t fit anymore of me?” 

Your bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat, his hair curling in dampness as you pulled his face to look at you eye to eye. His dark eyes blown wide open and his mouth unable to close from the mounting pleasure in both of you. He never slowed his pace, and you wrapped your legs around him more, closer to his own legs to try and bring him deeper. 

“Please, fill me up Ezra.” You pulled him into a kiss breaking off only to mumble against hips lips before kissing him again. “I’m yours to have, please. Cum inside me, please just this one please.” The burning pleasure filled your limbs as you could only move against his thrusting hips to seek out your orgasm before it could be taken away, not that he would dare deprive himself of it. 

You rambled, not knowing what you were saying but driving him mad through it all. “I’m yours, whenever, wherever. Fuck me until until you’ve had enough of me, until it takes, please cum inside me you can have whatever you want.” 

Ezra grasped your face harshly, kissing and licking into your mouth as your orgasm swam into the shores. The fire between your legs making you almost cry in tears, leaning up into his warm touch, letting his kiss consume you as all you felt was his cock slick against your walls. 

Your head was high in the clouds, surrounded by white noise of his creating. You were too far off to sense how insane you drove him. Neither of you could have expected his feral, snarling desire to keep you all for himself. But you told him to fuck you until it took, and it lost him.

There was no discernible drive behind it, not that he knew of at the moment, but it consumed with with the concept of fucking you every chance he gets, spilling his cum deep into you without any care to take precautions over it. 

That thought pushed him over the edge. His hips pushing shallow thrusts deep inside you as he buried his head into your neck with a tight hold moving throughout your body. His cum spilling inside of you, warm and so deep you buried your own face into his hair as your clenching walls milked him for all he could give you.  

You thought he may be mumbling something onto your skin, but whatever it was seemed to be another language. You were too far gone anyways, burrowing yourself into his arms as you both stayed there. Hips locked together, neither of you understanding why either of you held this back the way you did. 

You didn’t talk about that though. Once you both came back down, Ezra pulled up, giving you one last kiss, but not of deep lust, just a simmered passion that left you chasing his lips after. 

You also didn’t speak of the very reason he had to stay that night, likely still out there until the sun arises. Ezra didn’t care about them, he didn’t elaborate but he was very clear that he didn’t ever come to you with intention of handing you over. For once, you truly believed him, and he had such a genuine smile of happiness of true peace between you.   

The rest of the night was quiet, intimate. Ezra watching with fond curiosity as you sat with the tiny dragon now awake with company. Watching you both work together, whispers at him and coos and purrs at you, a golden glow shining in the small space in front of the fire pit as you showed Ezra the charms you had been teaching him or working on together. 

He tried some of them too, with varied success but never once did he become short or annoyed by your own success. He just watched you guide and praise the small creature, support him to work with you, prompting what you know he can do. 

His smile only warmed up fonder as he quickest of images replaced the one in front of him. One where the creature in front of you was something much more human. One with dark curls and a growing patch of blonde standing out against a softer face that much more resembled you. 

It wasn’t a thought that lingered, but he didn’t chase it away. This was new for the both of you. He treasured how much you understood each other once the walls dropped. 

You had mentioned that once the sun came up you’d have to figure a plan out. “He’s small, and he’ll stay small for quite a while, but this just isn’t..”

“This isn’t a place to raise him.” Ezra brave enough to run a finger over his wings and not get growled or snapped at finally. “We’ll find somewhere. I’ve passed a fair few places before settling here, any one of them could give you both a real home.” 

You watched the creature, you didn’t look at him but there was a watery weight in your eyes. “Just the two of us? You’re life is here, right?” Ezra smiled but you didn’t cut your brain off. “You’ve done enough, you’re life shouldn’t be uprooted for a baby dragon, not for the only person who you’ve competed against for years.” 

You tried to steel your face impassively. But Ezra didn’t falter from such a casual relaxation. “Well now how could you two travelers even consider leaving your own companion behind? Frankly I’m offended.” 

Your head shot up in panic, only to fall flat at the playful jest on his face. “You don’t have to though, really.” 

Ezra furrowed his brow before hauling himself up more. His heart leaping as you so harmoniously reached for him as soon as he cupped your cheeks for a kiss. Pulling way he nudged his nose against yours, “You know better then anyone, I’m a stubborn man.” You laughed out loud, your forehead affectionately resting against his. “You aren’t getting rid of me anytime soon, birdie.” 

A chirp croaked out below you both. Ezra poked at the little green attention seeker. “Yeah, yeah same to you, you winged nightmare.” The dragon shaking it’s head with a squeaky growl, hopping away from you both completely. Once again turning himself into a lumpy green pile on the ground ruminating by the fire. 

You and Ezra both laughed, and it once again struck him at how parental it felt. The image of a baby, looking much like your best traits together, cradled in your arms and you in his own came back up. 

He wouldn’t push that thought, wouldn’t read too heavily into it until a true life has settled with you, somewhere far from the noise and nonsense that drove a wedge between you both in the first place. He never hated you, or even disliked you but Ezra understood why his own attitude didn’t lend itself to healing. 

It was hopeful now, such an intimate domesticity between him and you felt as if it was what was truly meant to be. What was behind the animosity previously getting in the way. 

Maybe though, he would wait a while before telling you he was the one who had all of your market belongings replaced. He did it out of a burning need to give you something you needed, something good you deserved. 

But he had a feeling you would still accuse him of ruining it in the first place as an excuse to get you new things. The magistrate clearly ordered it done to intimidate you instead of doing literally anything else more effective. But Ezra can’t lie to himself. 

He absolutely had thought about doing exactly that just to try and get your attention.

#ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x female reader #ezra prospect x f!reader #pedrostoriesgift22 #pedrostories #ezra prospect x you #pedro pascal x reader #prospect imagine

[pedgito]

Hi, this is a newly renovated masterlist to head into 2024 with! All of my old fics (eddie related) can be found here. My guidelines can be found here. This is all strictly Pedro-verse related fics and each fic linked will contain a short summary and word count. If you enjoy these fics, please consider a reblog, it's always appreciated! xo

FOR THE WORK (10k+ words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Using your neighbors address for deliveries doesn’t seem like the worst idea until you find yourself with a world of dilemmas and a burgeoning crush on the single dad who lives there. [Pre-Outbreak]

PATROLS (17k+ words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: A story of how things began, where they ended up, and where they might go. A collection of patrols over the course of several months is forcing you closer to Joel than you ever imagined, tense circumstances leading to hasty decisions and one bad choice after the next. [Set Post S1]

SOFT & SWEET (5k+ words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Based around Work Song by Hozier. A comfort fic with lots of angst and fluffy goodness. Content Warnings: mentions of violence/blood/fighting (nothing graphic), joel being in a state of shock, sex for comfort/coping, no heavy sex warning it’s just v intimate, psuedo love confessions bc joel is bad with words

MEET ME IN THE WOODS (Finished Series) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Taking a much needed vacation for the holiday, you aren't aware your cabin has been double-booked until you're face to face with the other guest the night you arrive, left with a big decision to make and the possibility of a month with a man you know nothing about. But, through communication and isolation, you learn that you and him might not be that different after all. Consumed by your shared loneliness, you find company in the unlikeliest of place—a stranger named Joel, in the middle of the woods. [No Outbreak] (6 chapters)

MET THE DEVIL LAST NIGHT (6k words) — (AU) Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

18+ Demon!Joel, Virgin!Reader, this was little plot lol.

THESE BOOTS WERE MADE FOR RIDING (3k words) — Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Joel doesn't like gifts, you gift him new boots.

HANDSOME, DIRTY, RICH (12k words) — BFD!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

The rich father of your bestfriend, Sarah — Joel Miller, was a mystery to you until one day he isn't and you quickly find that your interest in him isn't one-sided.

MILLER'S GIRL (Finished Series) — (AU) Professor!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: A sudden infatuation with your professor yields strange, unnerving results and Joel Miller, in his first semester at a new job finds himself in an unlikely position with a student that hides their intentions behind innocence.

UNDER YOUR SKIN (7.5k+ words) — Javier Pena x Fem!Reader

Summary: A new place, a new job, and new problems arise soon thereafter. Javier manages to weasel his way under your skin in more ways than one. The first—stealing your designated parking spot.

REQUEST (untitled) (2.6k+ words) — Javier Pena x Fem!Reader

Request was hurt/comfort, feelings freed after near death experience. Content Warnings:  mostly sfw, arguments over commitment/relationships, mention of violence (bombing), descriptions of minor injuries and emotional distress, just lots and lots of angst

IT'S A DATE (2.5k words) — Javier Pena x Fem!Reader

Your boyfriend delivers the worst news possible on what should be a day filled with love. Luckily your coworker is there in wait, not allowing a perfectly good dinner reservation to go to waste.

Ezra (Prospect)

untitled sex pollen fic (6.5k words)

Lucien Flores

BLESSING IN DISGUISE (5k words)

Summary: you’re his best-friend’s daughter and he’s at a party he can’t be bothered to care about, luckily you’re the one thing that catches his attention.

LAST UPDATED: 02.20.2024

#joel miller x reader #javier pena x reader #joel miller #javier pena #joel miller smut #javier pena smut #masterlist*

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Starlight, Chapter One:

pairing: fae!ezra prospect x princess!oc (Marigold)

rating: M (series is 18+ only, arranged marriage, fantasy elements, talks of potential violence, vague and brief mentions of su!c!de, Ezra is a charmer and definitely written OOC to suit my fantasy needs but there are canon elements incorporated)

wc: 7k

series masterlist

I arrived in Nox, the land of eternal midnight, one week after climbing into my father’s gold-plated carriage. 

The ride was long and grueling, my back and rear feeling the brunt of the effects of such a rough journey. But even in my soreness and desperation for my plush mattress back home and the smell of gardenia wafting in through my open windows, I refused to complain to my father’s guards for a break. In fact, I refused to utter a single word as we rolled through the snowy forest just north of Heims and just south of Nox. The darkness had already begun to creep upon us, so slowly I hadn’t even noticed until it was pitch black outside.

“Welcome to Nox, Princess,” one my father’s guards announced with a sly smirk, his eyes fixed on my profile as I pressed my face to the window of the carriage, my eyes wide and jaw slack as I watched the forest around us clear little by little until there was nothing but open, dark sky over top. “Amazing isn’t it?”

Whatever I had imagined stars to look like before that moment seemed insulting in comparison to its reality. Tiny little white, blue, and yellow dots of light shone like diamonds and crystals against the blue-black void around them, my heart aching in my chest at the simple beauty of it all.

“To your left is the moon,” the guard offered, drawing my attention to him for a split second before I was sliding across the carriage bench to peer out the other side. As soon as I looked up, I saw it.

It hung in the sky like a cosmic ornament, it’s gray so bland it should have bored me, but there was something about that round beacon of light that called to me. I couldn’t help the gasp that slipped past my lips as I looked to the tiny flecks of light beside it for only a split second before returning my attention to the main attraction. It seemed to calm my nerves the same way the sun did, just without the warmth.

Perhaps different didn’t always mean worse. Perhaps this new world around me—one of darkness and covered in a soft blanket of snow—would surprise me and kick dirt in the face of all of my fears.

I could only hope.

I couldn’t be certain of what time of day it was given the constant state of darkness around me, but as we rolled up to the front of the giant castle—it’s black stone and gothic design such a stark contrast from my home in Solis—I reasoned it must have been around dawn judging by the soldiers training in the east courtyard.

I watched the man supervising, his midnight blue tunic beneath a plate of black armor making him look like an imposing sight in contrast to the blanket of stark white beneath his feet. As I climbed out of the carriage with the help of one of my father’s guards, I locked eyes with the assumed-General across the hundred yards that separated us. He seemed to remember something, abruptly shouting a command at his soldiers to finish their training without him before turning on his heels to head towards the side of the castle.

I shivered at the authority in his voice, in the quickness in which he strode across the field. As if it were mere feet instead of hundreds of them.

“Welcome, Princess Marigold,” a sentry standing in front of the dark stone doors called down the brick stairs separating us, drawing my attention away from the soldiers who carried on as though the General’s eyes were still upon them.

What cruel punishments had they experienced at his hand for refusing to follow his commands? 

“The King is eagerly awaiting your presence,” the sentry carried on, his eyes glancing at the guards behind me. “I’m afraid your men will have to bid you farewell here.”

I turned to the men who I’d known since I was a child, but whose names I hadn’t the slightest idea of. Still, they were people of Solis. The last I’d see for…ever, possibly.

I gave the men a bow of my head, not trusting my voice to remain strong as I wished them farewell, in turn wishing my old life farewell, too. All I could manage was, “Thank you.”

“Come, Princess,” the sentry called, growing impatient with my goodbyes, or perhaps he was just anxious over what might happen to both of us if I were to keep the King waiting too long.

The thought alone was enough to set my feet in motion.

After being led through the large entrance hall, the walls a bleak pewter stone that matched the ceiling and floor, I was led into the large throne room where the King sat waiting on his black, imposing throne upon an equally imposing dais. I took him in, his black hair perfectly quaffed, his stone gray eyes piercing me from yards away. His bone structure was impossibly sharp and symmetrical, and I couldn't help but wonder how someone so beautiful could possibly exist without the help of magic.

How stunning must his parents have been to create such a handsome, broad, masculine looking man?

I tore my eyes from him to save myself golden skin from turning pink, my focus fixing on his left.

There was a smaller, more feminine looking throne beside him that sat empty except for a midnight blue velvet pillow and a diamond crown that looked as if it was made from some of those tiny flecks in the sky.

This was to be my future seat, my crown. My stomach turned at the thought until my eyes focused on the person standing to the right of the King.

There, beside my soon-to-be husband, stood the General. With light brown skin, dark chocolate eyes, and a blonde streak in his dark, wavy head of hair, he was alarmingly handsome, even in comparison to the impossible beauty of King Kaius. But there was something other about him, something unlike myself or any person I’d ever met. I couldn’t quite tell what his position was amongst the ranks here, General or advisor, but judging by his armor and the blade he wore at his side, I decided I didn’t want to risk pissing him off to find out.

As if he could sense my curiosity, his brown eyes glowed amber and a bouquet of Marigolds appeared in his hand only to be given over to the King. Magic? He…

Fae.

My father liked to tell me frightening stories when I was a girl about a time in his own youth where the Fae ruled over the mortal lands. He told me of their cunning, their silver tongues, and most importantly, their wicked magic that had the power to wipe out entire kingdoms.

But after the revolution, a bloody war waged against the Fae in which Kaius’ bloodline and my own defeated them and ascended to their respective thrones, the fae were largely driven elsewhere. They fled overseas, in an unnamed land no mortal dared to even think about, let alone attempt to visit. And as far as my father was concerned, that was the end of their story.

But now…now I could see just how little he knew about anything. 

Suddenly, I felt whatever hope I carried that perhaps my fate—my new life—wouldn’t be as awful as I imagined dying out like the last ember in a pile of ash.

A new world. A stranger as my husband. A faerie as his….

“Princess Marigold,” the sentry bellowed into the chamber, his voice echoing against the walls. “You have the honor of standing in the presence of King of Nox, and the King’s Hand.”

The King’s Hand. My new King—my future husband—had enlisted the council of a faerie? The species that attempted to enslave my own?

The ember fighting to stay alive inside of me died completely.

“I do hope your journey was smooth,” Kaius said, throwing the flowers at the sentry standing beside me, the petals half-crushed by the time the bouquet was in my shaking hands. His voice was velvet smooth, as if it were made of the same darkness and night outside of these walls. He cracked a smile at my quietness. “For what it’s worth, you look wonderful. Far lovelier than your father let on.”

I forced myself to reply. “Thank you, my King.”

He seemed to approve of the use of the title, his head nodding subtly.

“I will have my Hand show you to your quarters,” he announced, snapping his finger before waving it in my direction.

His arrogance was odorous. I couldn’t bear to be in his presence for another moment, and yet…

“Surely you have a handmaid—“

“There are no women on the grounds,” he announced, indifference bordering on agitation in his tone. “Until now, that is.”

No women, no…

Who was to help me bathe? If I were to fall pregnant, who would help me give birth?

I could have fainted there in the center of that too-large throne room if it hadn’t been for a sudden calm that washed over me when the King’s Hand stepped closer, his eyes glowing again.

“Please, allow me, Princess,” he bowed, holding out his bent arm to me. I accepted it only to repay him for whatever magic he worked on me to save myself from the embarrassment of passing out.

“There will be a ball this evening to welcome you to your new home,” Kaius called after us. “Please see to it that she bathes. I can smell her from here.”

Well, I suppose he said I looked wonderful—not that I smelled that way.

“You smell fine,” the Hand assured quietly as we exited the chamber. I didn’t miss the glare he shot over his shoulder at the King or the icy warning in it. Bold, even for a Fae.

His eyes caught mine as he turned forward again, witnessing the way my eyes narrowed at the sight of him. Of what I remembered from my father’s stories.

“I am not a monster and I am not out to kill you, Princess,” he assured with a slight smirk. I couldn’t explain why, but I could feel the centuries it must have taken for him to master such a look. Dangerous and not, all at the same time.

“Can you read my thoughts?” I snapped, suddenly conscious of his power.

“No,” he said, calm and amused. “Only your feelings, Your Highness. ”

“Well, stop,” I said, turning my eyes away from his as he led me up a grand, winding staircase made of the same dark brick the rest of the castle was built from.

“It isn’t something within my control,” he said. “But I’ll stop intruding.”

I nodded and tried to will a cold, hard exterior to mask my softness. I couldn’t begin to imagine what these people, cruel and calculated, would do with it.

After a beat of silence, I found myself speaking again.

“Why—“ I started, but quickly gained control of myself. I had no idea what this fae was capable of, let alone his motives. He quirked an eyebrow at me, his eyes scanning my face as he silently assessed me.

“I told you,” he spoke cautiously, as if he were talking to a wild beast he feared but desperately needed to tame. “You needn’t be afraid of me, Princess. Ask your question. I can feel the way it’s eating you up inside.”

I ignored the way his voice fell into something lower, something far too intimate for my taste.

“Why would the King appoint a fae as his Hand?” I asked against better judgment. He smiled slightly at me as we paused at the top of the stairs, his hand raising to halt the guards that I wasn’t even aware were trailing us. The men obeyed, stopping at the bottom of the stairs while he led me down another long, dark hallway.

“The King does many things I do not understand,” he said, his voice a trained whisper. “My existence is bound to his. He saved my life—“ The Hand held up his right hand, or more accurately, the ornate, solid gold prosthetic in its place. I wondered if he could feel my shock, but if he had, it didn’t show. “So, here I am.”

I ignored the urge to question him further on that specific subject. Perhaps another time.

“Do you enjoy it? Being here?” He must’ve been able to sense me feeling him out, that flicker of a smile vanishing into thin air.

“Not often,” he replied. At least he told the truth. “I find Court in all its pomp and frill to be incredibly isolating. But, on the other hand, it provides. I am free—to an extent. Just as you’ll be.”

“To an extent,” I repeated with a scoff. “Why are there no women around?”

“There are, just not in the castle. The rest of our court prefers their own manors to living on the grounds,” he said, turning another sharp corner. “And as for your personal servants, I’m meeting with potential handmaids this afternoon. If you’d like, you can come along and select them for yourself.”

“Yes, that would be…fine,” I said. “You’re awfully…friendly. For a Hand. I expect you’re taking note of every single thing I say to report back to the King.”

“I’m not taking any more note of you than you are of me,” he winked, unlocking a chamber that felt cold even with the two large, stone doors closed. “If you expect that I am a spy sent to observe and report, I must disappoint you.”

“What are you then? An ally?” I asked, quirking a brow at him.

I couldn’t help but feel torn between the image of a faerie that my father had painted for me—the very same father that cruelly sent me to this dark, awful, cold place—and the picture in front of me of an honest, warm man.

“I could be a friend,” he said. “But at the very least, I am here to make your life easier. Whatever you need, send for me and I will do everything in my power to make it happen.”

“I always thought it would be my husband doting on me like that,” I joked, shaking my head at the childish imagining. “Speaking of. What is he like? What might I expect? Is he a romantic? A brute?”

The Hand seemed to think hard for a moment. I could see him retreating into his own mind, as if it were a real place and not just something inside of him. When he came back to the moment, I suspected he’d have masterfully worded his response to avoid any missteps.

How long had it taken to learn such a skill?

“The King is what he is. He can be a very good man, and he can be…a very good King. I have a feeling you understand the need for the distinction,” he said, his eyes scanning my face again. “I wouldn’t pry. He’s generally better left to himself and his own doings.”

“I’m perfectly fine with keeping my distance,” I returned, rolling my eyes at the reality of my new life before gesturing at the door. “Well, if this is to be the start of my prison sentence, don’t let me delay you any longer.”

“Your Highness,” he sighed, leveling his eyes with mine in a way that no one ever had, as if he were talking to an equal. “This place is only a prison if you let it be. There’s plenty to see, to do, to busy yourself with. Don’t lock yourself away and let this grief eat you whole.” His eyes softened as they combed over my face. I wondered how pitiful I must’ve looked to earn such a stare. “Friend or ally, it is my pleasure to serve you, Princess.”

I didn’t say anything, only giving him a single nod before entering my chamber and closing the door.

In between quick, panicked breaths, I surveyed the suite around me. It looked nothing like my chamber back at home.

It was an absurdly large, two-story suite fit for a Queen—though, I remembered it made sense given that I would be one soon enough. On the first floor, there was the foyer I stood in, its dark stone walls, matching charcoal curtains, and velvet black furnishing reminding me of a very posh dungeon. Beyond a set of black, paneled ,double-doors was a less intimidating sitting room with a black-brick hearth that reached up to the high ceiling. On either side of the sitting room sat a dining room and a study that matched the current gothic aesthetic. I only briefly scanned the wall-to-wall bookshelves in my new study before venturing upstairs to my main chamber, a large dressing and bathing suite attached on either side.

I couldn’t stop my throat from swelling as I took in my new surroundings. This was nothing like home to me.

Instead of the sheer yellow curtains that flowed in the open breeze in my old bedroom, there were dark blue velvet curtains drawn over the large floor-to-ceiling windows to keep out the cold. Instead of my white linen comforter and canopy bed, there only sat a large, gothic style four-poster bed with a velvet, onyx-colored blanket tucked in neatly.

There was no lightness in this castle, but I foolishly expected that perhaps my room would, at least, be an inviting space for me to lock myself away in, as the Hand said.

Perhaps he could remedy the decor and furnishings for me if I asked nicely.

I ignored the idea and headed into the large bathing room on the right side of my bedroom, its giant windows overlooking the snowy grounds of the castle. At least this room seemed to hold some beauty.

Between the large windows showcasing the dark winter wonderland outside, the stars I was only just becoming familiar with shining so brightly overhead, and the giant pool in place of a normal bathtub, I couldn’t find myself to hate this space. This, for now, would be my haven.

Shedding my overcoat, I suddenly realized that no bath had been drawn for me, and seeing as how I had never drawn my own or watched it be done—what a clueless and pampered girl—I started to panic.

What would the punishment be if I showed up to the ball still smelling of my travels?

I didn’t have a minute to consider it before the pool started to fill with steaming water, the room scented with ylang ylang and gardenia.

The Hand’s doing, no doubt.

I sighed away the rest of the shiver I still had from being outside, and stripped down to nothing before stepping into the perfectly hot water, every ache in my body fading instantly.

So, this was to be my life. I’d tend to my husband’s urges, attend gatherings, and sit here in this bathtub trying to convince myself not to throw myself through the window.

A fitting punishment for the least loved daughter of five.

After a long struggle of trying and failing to fashion my corset by myself—I wasn’t going to ask The King’s Hand to help me into my dress, even if I was entirely certain he’d agree—I opted for a looser gown that buttoned at the front of the bodice.

Though I wasn’t used to this darker, cooler color palette, I couldn’t help but admire the fine fabrics filling my armoire. The one I’d chosen for this afternoon—if you could call it that—was made of the smoothest silk I’d ever touched, even smoother than the luxurious fabrics my sister came back from Florere with during her last visit. Its color was just as dark as the night sky around me. On the shoulders, there were beaded black rosettes that sparkled even in the dull light coming in through the window. Covering my arms was a sheer black mesh that glittered as if it was made of starlight. I couldn’t find a reason to fault it.

A knock at the stone door on the lower level of my suite tore me away from the full length mirror in my dressing room. I slowly made my way down the stone staircase to the foyer, my heart racing with fear at the thought of Kaius waiting behind the door instead of a sentry or The Hand.

I wasn’t sure what that told me about my future marriage, but I could only assume it wasn’t a promising start.

Thankfully, I was only met with the sight of The Hand, his smile turning into something more indulgent as he took in the sight of me in my new gown.

“A lovely choice for this afternoon, Princess,” he said, finally meeting my eyes. “The violet brings out the brown in your eyes.”

I didn’t know what to say or if I wanted to accept the compliment. Still, it was smart to be polite.

“Thank you,” I managed. “Shall we go?”

He let out a breath of a chuckle and nodded, holding his arm out for me.

“Is that necessary?” I asked, staring at him and his arm that remained held out for me.

“Does my chivalry bother you?” he teased, lifting an eyebrow as I continued staring blankly at him until he finally let his arm fall to his side. “I was under the impression Princesses enjoyed good manners.”

It took everything in me not to scoff in his face.

“I enjoy good manners that don’t involve me hanging on the arm of a man I do not know, all to be seen as a trophy—a prize that you’d do well to remember is not yours,” I snapped, some of that Solis heat boiling in my veins. He only looked pleased by my response.

“You are certainly not what I imagined,” he said, shaking his head at me with that stupid smile on his face. “That’s not to say I’m disappointed.”

“I don’t suppose it matters whether or not I am what you imagined, does it?” I returned.

“I suppose,” he agreed before waving his hand down the hallway. “Shall we?”

“I suppose,” I echoed, my voice sharp with irritation.

We made our way from the east wing of the castle to the main reception room on the first floor in mutually agreed upon silence. I didn’t want to hear any more of his quips nor did I imagine he wanted to hear any more of my snide retorts. And instead of conversation, I busied myself with mapping out the castle.

If I were going to spend the rest of my days here, I thought it best to get well acquainted with my surroundings, but it seemed the castle was built purposefully to confuse its residents. With all the dark stone and torchlight, I couldn’t tell which way was where. The only markers were the staircases, each one fashioned with a slightly different shade of charcoal to distinguish their location.

I quickly made a mental note to establish my bearings based on this knowledge later.

As we entered the reception room, I took note of the guards posted along the walls and at every entrance and exit. It must have looked terrifying to the sixteen women who stood in a neat line in front of a smaller dais than the one in the throne room. It looked terrifying to me, and I was here as the future Queen Consort.

“Introducing The King’s Hand and the future Queen, Princess Marigold!”

I hoped there would be a way to convince Kaius to cut this bellowing out of my entrances. It seemed ridiculous to have a sentry squawk out my name every time I entered a room, especially once I became Queen and everyone knew who I was.

“Your choice, Princess,” he said, gesturing at the two chairs on the dais. I wondered if there was any significance in him offering me to choose my seat, but decided that if there was, I wouldn’t bother searching for it. I sat down in the seat on the right and nearly gasped at the plushness of the throne.

Was everything here made this well?

“Thank you all for coming,” he began, his voice more commanding than it had been just a second ago when he was speaking to me. “I do ask that in the future, you bow in the presence of your new Queen.”

I wanted to slap him for speaking for me. I didn’t think these women should have to bow before anyone considering half of them were old enough to be my grandmother.

“Your new Queen asks that you do not bow to me unless you feel called to do so,” I cut in, surprising The Hand as he opened his mouth to speak again. “Bowing only means anything if it’s done with the right heart.”

He seemed to find my outburst intriguing, or perhaps infuriating given the way his jaw tightened as he turned from me back to the women.

“As the Princess wishes,” he managed. Pointing at the first woman in the line up, he spoke again. “Come.”

“Must you be so demanding,” I whispered to him, earning only a glance in my direction.

A young looking girl approached the dais, her pale skin and tangled white-blonde hair bringing a soft frown to my face. 

“What is your name?”

“Drusilla, Your Highness,” she said, bowing low enough to sweep the floor. 

“Age?”

“Sixteen.”

Gods. She was hardly more than a child. Even I still felt like one and I was a decade older.

“She’s a child,” I whispered, appalled that his people would even bring her before me.

She’s an orphan.

I heard his voice in my head as clear as if he had spoken right in my ear. I contained my gasp as he turned to me for a moment, his eyes still glowing.

It was either offering servitude or leaving her to starve.

I swallowed the lump in my throat at his show of power and nodded, turning to the girl.

“Have you any training? Any expertise?” I asked, hoping that the softness in my voice could quell some of her trembling fear as she fought not to look me in the eye.

“No, Your Highness,” she said, her voice weak and frail as her frame. She looked near death, as if it was a miracle she was still standing. 

“Drusilla,” I called, forcing her eyes to meet mine. “Have you eaten today?”

She shook her head. I didn’t think she’d eaten in a week judging by her frailness. 

I turned to The Hand and nodded, hoping he understood me even if I couldn’t get in his head like he did mine.

“Take her to eat then show her to her quarters,” he commanded. I watched as not a second passed before the sentries were doing as they were told. “If any one of you attempts to lay a hand on her…”. His power surged around us enough to darken the already dreary room. “You lose that hand. And that is only a taste of what else might be lost if anyone disobeys my command.”

The men bowed, silently pledging their honor, before leaving the room with a still trembling Drusilla. I made a mental note to visit her as soon as I could to try and calm some of her fears the way my elder sister did with me during my departure.

“Are all Hands this powerful?” I asked, lacing my voice with mockery to disguise my intimidation.

The Hand didn’t answer.

“Next,” he demanded, waving at the second woman in line.

She was older than the rest of the candidates by far, though I had no clue of how old she was exactly.  I took in her raven black hair, the lines etched on her sickly pale, almost gray skin, and finally met the endless black void of her eyes. I knew at the first glance that something was off about her. Something I didn’t want near me.

“Your name,” he inquired. The older woman grinned widely enough to bare her rotted teeth, forcing my stomach to flip with both fear and disgust.

“I have no name,” she replied, her voice shrill and scratchy like claws raking over stone. 

I’d only ever met one of the Cursed—a wicked group of witches that dabbled only in the dark side of magic--before, after she was brought before my father to be tried. That witch looked slightly younger and more refreshed than the one in front of me, but there was no mistaking their identical set of onyx eyes.

“You’re one of the Cursed,” I accused, shocking myself along with the rest of the room. The Hand whipped his attention towards me for a moment before turning back to the woman at my feet.

He took a few moments to inspect her using some sort of magic, at least judging by the way his eyes seemed to glow that shade of gilded bronze again. Whatever he must have discovered, it was enough to force his face into a stern scowl as his eyes faded back to their normal dark brown.

“Do you deny practicing the dark arts?” he asked through clenched teeth, his hand moving to rest on the hilt of his dagger. “High Priestess?”

The wicked old woman grinned at the use of her title.

“Do you?” she purred, her wicked tongue laced with venom. “You’ve got more darkness in you than me and all my sisters combined.”

“Take her away,” he ordered. Six guards surrounded the witch and seized her, though she certainly didn’t make it easy with all her hissing and thrashing about. “Lock her in the Dark Cell. Since she loves the darkness so much.”

“Hypocrite!” she screamed, shrieking like a witch. “What a foul hypocrite of a Faerie! The darkness will come for you too!”

“What is she—“

“Have the witch taken to the dungeon before I cut her head off and have it mounted in the throne room,” he ordered, leaving no room for questioning in the harshness of his voice. As the guards carried the still-shrieking witch away, I stared at him with wide eyes, fearing the glimpse of darkness—the same darkness the witch accused him of harboring inside—I just saw in his eyes. Sensing my frightened stare, he softened himself with a sigh and turned to me. “I apologize, Princess. Clearly my men are not as trained to spot evil as you seem to be.”

I couldn’t stop looking at him. I wanted to tear his mind apart and lay its contents out on a table to carefully study one by one. He seemed entirely unreadable.

“I’d like to go back to my chamber,” I whispered, voice small with fear. “Please.”

Studying me for a moment with what looked to be concern mixed with guilt, he nodded, turning back to the guards waiting behind the remaining women who stood trembling with fear.

“Take the rest away,” he ordered with a wave of his hand. He waited until there was not a single soul in the room before turning back to me. “I apologize if the witch’s outburst frightened you. I can assure you, it is rare that one of the Cursed gathers the courage to make an appearance, and even rarer that they cause any harm. They’re simply old Crones who like to waste away worshiping at the feet of Death.”

“She said that you…have darkness in you, too,” I replied, my voice hardly above a whisper as I tracked his every move. Hesighed, lifting a hand to rub over the coarse hair covering his chin.

“Yes,” he admitted, though it looked as though it pained him to do so. “All Fae carry both light and dark inside of them. We are made of it. Not equal parts, necessarily.”

“So you’re made up of…more darkness than light?”

“She seems to think so,” he said, dropping his eyes to my lips before bringing them back to mine. “What do you think? Do you see any resemblance between me and that old witch?”

“Not physically, no,” I let out a huff of amusement.

“And how about the way I make you feel?” he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he was fighting off a smirk. “You knew the moment you saw her for what she was. Yet, you have yet to hurl an accusation like that at me.”

“Would you like me to?” I asked, finally earning a laugh from him. I found myself smiling, too. It seemed The Hand had a knack for putting me at ease.

“Would you still like to return to your chambers?” he asked, standing up and walking over to where I remained sitting.

“Yes, I think some rest will do me well,” I said, standing up with the help of his hand. “It’s been an exciting morning.”

“I believe this evening will be just as eventful given that this court hasn’t seen a new member in years,” he said, walking with me down the steps of the dais before leading us out into the corridor. “A word of caution, if I may.”

“You may,” I said, glancing over at him just to admire the way the torchlight lit up his face. A face I had no business admiring.

“Don’t let yourself be alone with anyone at the ball, Marigold,” he said, meeting my eyes as we walked. “They’ll either try to seduce you, exploit you, or kill you.”

“Gods,” I choked, shaking my head. “Court in Solis was so boring compared to this. The only torture to be found there was having to listen to my father’s speeches.”

The Hand chuckled. “Kaius isn’t much of a public speaker, so at least you’re clear on that front.”

“When am I to officially marry him?” I asked, that fearsome pit in my stomach growing at the mere thought of marrying a man I didn’t know.

“Tonight,” he said, sympathy filling his eyes as he watched me shudder. “If…if you’re comfortable, I can ease some of your fear.”

“No amount of kind words—“

“I meant with my magic,” he smiled. “I can take it away for a while. Help with the nausea.”

I sighed. I shouldn’t have to need magic in order to not be sickened by my fate.

“What if I were to accidentally trip down a staircase? Fall from a ledge?” I joked. Mostly.

He clearly found no amusement in it as he stopped us abruptly, his eyes boring into mine.

“Please try not to make those kinds of jokes,” he said, his tone both stern and gentle. “Kaius’s mother…she—“

“Oh, Gods,” I gasped, covering my mouth as my heart dropped into my gut. “I am—Gods, I had no idea.”

“Kaius would be very quick to…react if you said anything like that around him,” he warned, making my skin pimple as I thought about the ways Kaius could possibly react. I didn’t want to find out. “So, please try to save your dark humor just for me.”

I ignored the idea of saving anything “just for him” and continued walking, feeling his presence looming behind me in thick but not unwelcome silence.

“How are you liking your suite?” he asked as we neared my chamber. 

“It’s…dark,” I replied, unsure of whether or not he’d take offense given that he, apparently, was dark, too. “But I do love the bathing room and its windows.”

“I thought you might,” he said, a content sound to his voice. 

“How?” I wondered if perhaps he’d done some spying on me before I came, either with or without my father’s knowledge. Though, it made sense that the King’s Hand would want to know what kind of person they were getting for their new Queen Consort. 

“Not you, specifically,” he assured, turning to me as we stood in front of the giant stone door to my suite. “I just figured that whoever ended up here would enjoy a good view of their new environment without having to…interact with anyone. Though, there are certainly better views of the stars elsewhere on the grounds.”

“Like where?” I asked, more out of politeness than anything else. 

“There’s a conservatory in the East Wing with a library,” he said, his voice soft with reverence. “The roof is made of glass, so there are no obstructions. Just the stars.”

“You sound quite fond of it, I wouldn’t want to steal your hiding place,” I joked, finding it oddly easy to do with him even with all my distrust. 

“I’ve been too busy to spend any time there in a while, so feel free to borrow it. Or steal it. Whichever pleases Your Highness,” he smiled, something hinting and playful in it that made my chest buzz the way it did with my first childhood crush. 

“I’ll consider it,” I said, biting back a smile before gesturing at my door. “I should rest.”

He nodded, reaching for the steel handle and pressing the door open. “Would you like me to ensure you get a peaceful rest?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that a threat?”

“With magic, I mean,” he chuckled. 

“How does it work?” I tilted my head, studying his irises. How was it possible for them to look so ordinary most of the time only to…

His irises turned golden again, his stare unwavering and focused. “I essentially convince your mind that you are at peace, content. Your body reacts to the signals, and it washes away the effects of all of those nasty worries and fears.”

A wave of calm washed over me, just like it had earlier in the throne room when I nearly vomited out of sheer nerves. 

“Do most people here know that you…can do this? Can read their emotions?” 

“No,” he said, those glowing eyes fading into something far less supernatural. “Just Kaius, my generals, a few trusted members at court, and…you.” 

“Can all Fae do this?”

“Magic, yes. Sensing emotions, no.”

I nodded, suddenly feeling so content that I considered curling up right there on the cold stone floor of my doorway. 

“Rest,” he ordered softly, his voice a whisper. “I’ll send your new handmaid to you an hour before the ball.”

“You’re only giving me an hour to get ready for my wedding?” I asked, giving him a half-smile as I crossed my arms around my body, already trying to get cozy.

“Can I tell you a secret?” I nodded and he smiled. “You could show up in a burlap sack with your hair in tangles and still be the most beautiful person in the room.”

“I doubt that,” I chuckled, fighting a blush from appearing on my olive cheeks. 

“I mean it,” he insisted with an amused grin. “Our court is a dark, dreary gray, and you are…a golden ray of light. They won’t know what to do with themselves when they get a look at you.”

“Is it custom for the Hand to spoil their guest with so many kind words?” I teased. 

“Not a guest, no. But for my future Queen?” His eyes danced across my features, the sight clearly pleasing him as his smile spread even wider. “My Queen might do well with getting used to being spoiled.”

“Are you going to refer to me as that after tonight?” I asked, the heaviness of my eyelids causing them to bat in a way that likely sent the wrong message. Or perhaps it sent the right one given the way my chest still buzzed with excitement. “My Queen?”

“It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” His voice had lowered in a way that made me feel dizzy and drunk, my feet stepping closer by sheer instinct. His head bowed from our height difference as he kept his eyes locked on mine. “But it is quite boring. I’ll have to think up something more fitting.”

“And what do I call you, Your Highness?” I purred, suddenly finding it hard to stop myself from closing the foot of distance between us. 

“Ezra,” he replied, low and warm and much too intimate. 

My breathing halted as he lifted his hand up as though he were about to cup the side of my face with it, but he stopped himself, letting it fall back to his side. 

“Sleep well, Your Highness,” he murmured, bowing just enough for me to realize it before he vanished into thin air, leaving a waft of his scent--smoke, moss, cedar, and some spice I couldn’t name--in his wake. I kept myself from fainting by dragging my feet into my chamber and slamming the door shut. 

Was I truly allowing myself to develop a crush on not only my soon-to-be husband’s second in command, but a Fae? The scary monster from all my father’s bedtime stories? 

But he didn’t feel like a monster. He felt like a friend, or at the very least, someone from back home. I couldn’t help but gauge people based on what my mother would have thought of them. When she didn’t like someone, she never let it show. Instead, she’d give me knowing glances during conversation, each widening or narrowing of her caramel eyes telling me exactly what she refrained from saying. 

How dull. 

What a narcissist. 

He’s so stuffy he makes your father look humble. 

 I couldn’t imagine her speaking to Ezra and finding him boring, or vain, or snobbish. The only glances I’d receive would be ones that told a different story. 

Look at those eyes.

He’s annoyingly considerate.

Now this, Mari, is a man. 

But it didn’t matter what my dead mother thought of him, or even what I think. Kaius could have both of our heads on spikes if he found out and became jealous. I’d learn exactly how he’d react when provoked, and I had no interest in that sort of pain. I wanted peace, even in my prison sentence. I’d keep Ezra as a friend, and nothing more. 

For as long as I could bare it.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fluff #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x oc #ezra x oc #starlight

[tommysversion]

Heat (Ezra x F!Reader)

Summary: mutual attraction and a pair of sinfully tight sweatpants lead to more than you or Ezra could have expected. (There’s no plot, it’s just smut).

CWs: Spitting / slapping / mutual pining / cumplay / unsafe PIV sex / absolutely filthy talk / oral sex (f receiving) / praise kink / f masturbation / implied squirting /

Masterlist

For @miller--trash & @serenaxpedro ❤️

You’re starting to think you’re losing your mind, or at the very least getting close to it. This was meant to be a simple expedition, dangerous or not. Drop in, spend a month prospecting, drop out again, hopefully get rich enough to never have to return to The Green.

Getting a big stupid crush on your companion wasn’t meant to be part of the plan, but then Ezra had come along with his stupid drawl, broad frame, and that stupidly attractive smirk. 

Everything about him pisses you off, but that’s less to do with him and more to do with how increasingly needy you are where he’s concerned. 

Is it just you, or is he taunting you? You feel as if he’s more than aware of your interest, using it against you in a subtle way. 

Like right now, for instance. He's taken to coming out the sanitiser still half damp, hair sticking to the nape of his neck, no shirt in sight, barefoot. That would probably be easy enough for you to ignore, and you had, quite successfully, for some time, until he'd found the damn sweatpants.

Dark grey in colour, they leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. You wish you were exaggerating, but you can see absolutely everything outlined in those sweats. Every thick, slightly curved inch.

Honestly, the damn things are obscene, and if you were on any sort of civilised planet, he’d probably get fined for public indecency. But you’re not on a civilised planet. The Green is lawless territory, and anything goes.

You wish you could remember that a little more often, or useful facts from the prospecting guide, but instead you have the outline of your companion’s arguably sizeable cock imprinted firmly into your brain. Great.

You have to force your expression to remain neutral. Force your eyes to move past him, look at anything else, because god knows you’ve already been looking too long. Long enough for that slow, lazy smirk to creep into his features as he leans against the closest countertop, watching you.

Why the fuck is the lander so small? Or maybe he’s just big and imposing. Who cares. You flop down in your bunk, try to return your attention to your book, but honestly? The prospecting manual isn’t exactly a riveting read at the best of times.

Still, it must work to take some of the heat off you, because he stops slouching against the bench, practically saunters across the small space, hauls himself up the short ladder to the top bunk, and stays there.

You don’t like heights. Not even bunkbeds. Almost ironically, you’re starting to wonder if sleeping on the bunk below his is as close to getting beneath him as you’ll ever get.

Your cheeks heat at the thought.

The lights in the lander go out at a touch of the control panel set beside the bunk, leaving only the faint glow of the emergency lighting, the sign that the security system and the air filters are still running at full capacity.

You could still read by overhead lamp, but it’s easier to put the book aside and pretend to be asleep. It’s only when you hear Ezra’s breathing become more steady and lazy that you dare to move again.

It’s embarrassing, honestly, the way you’re dancing around the subject. Reduced to getting yourself off in the sanitiser or in your bunk, trying to keep yourself quiet.

You’re almost certain you’ve heard him do the same once or twice, but you’ve been genuinely half asleep and unable to tell if you were hearing what you wanted to hear.

The thought of him wrapping one of those big, scarred hands around his cock, stroking himself slowly, trying to muffle any sound, is enough to make you soak your panties. His hands are big enough. You’d probably need to use both.

The idea of sleep is now the furthest thing from your mind, the ache between your thighs far more pressing and needy than anything else. Carefully, trying not to make too much noise, you tug your panties down, kick them off under the blanket that’s suddenly too hot.

Your shirt comes off too, tucked up by your pillow. It’s a lot more comfortable this way, naked under the blanket, your hands wandering across your body. In the dark it’s easier to imagine the hands are his, even if they are far too small to realistically be so.

You dip a single finger into your soaked core, spread your own slick across bare skin as your other hand slips upwards, cups a bare breast, fingers pinching a sensitive nipple into a hardened bud.

It’s not enough; you add a second finger, consider the thought somewhere in the back of your mind that his hands are so big, you’d probably need to fit three or four of your own fingers inside yourself to take two of his.

The thought makes your cunt clench around your exploring fingers, a soft whimper almost escaping before you bite down - hard - on your bottom lip to keep it trapped.

Not trusting yourself to keep quiet enough, you release your nipple, cover your mouth with your hand as you start to rock slowly onto your own fingers, chasing release, mind foggy, nothing mattering in the moment more than the feeling of pleasure beginning to overwhelm you as you imagine him inside you…

“I can hear that undoubtedly sweet pussy singing for me from up here.” His drawl interrupts your fogged, hazy mind; you almost sit bolt upright, almost jump, but instead you freeze.

“Don’t stop on my account… unless of course you’d be more acquiescent to the idea of my assistance.”

You’re used to the way he speaks, like something from an old world poetry book. Even in the fog of your brain, you understand what he’s saying. What he’s offering.

“Get the fuck down here.” Your response is far less eloquent, but then again he’s the one with the words.

You swear to god you hear the smug bastard laugh as he rolls out of his own bunk, slides down the ladder.

“Normally I’d make certain you knew I disapproved of your uncouth manner of speaking, but… in this case? I suppose it can be forgiven.” He shrugs in the dim light; you can see the smirk on his face as he leans against the bunk frame, watching you.

“You gonna just stand there and watch? I thought you offered assistance.”

You don’t even care how needy you sound; he’s caught you completely off guard, your fingers still soaked with your own slick, desperate and hormonal and definitely not thinking with your brain.

“Patience is a virtue, sweet girl.” Still, he obliges you, tugs down those sinfully tight sweatpants, leaving him entirely bare to your hungry gaze.

Fuck.

The outline may have been impressive, but it’s nothing compared to actually seeing him. He’s big and broad, carries himself with a sort of easy swagger, but even that doesn’t prepare you for how fucking perfect his cock looks. Just as thick as you’d expected, big and slightly curved, soft curls framing that and a pair of heavy balls that you want, desperately, in your mouth.

“Please… get over here… right now.” You remember your manners this time, even if your mouth is watering and your pussy dripping at the sight of him.

Maybe asking nicely does something to him, because he doesn’t taunt you this time, just peels back the blanket, dark eyes taking in your naked form before he crawls on top of you, leans in to devour your mouth in a hungry kiss.

You cling to him, hook one leg around his waist to keep him there as your fingers drag up his back, across broad shoulders. His tongue plunders your needy mouth in such a way that leaves no room to doubt that he wants this, wants you, just as badly as you want him.

You can feel him pressing against your thigh, the hot, heavy weight of him, and your pussy clenches around nothing yet again at the thought of him inside you.

“Now, what were you doing down here?” He breaks the kiss to ask, one hand crawling down your torso, cupping your drenched pussy lightly.

“Ez, please…” you’re so fucking needy for him, want him inside you so badly it aches, uncaring if he’s too big to take.

“Patience, dove, it’s not my intention to hurt you. When I have you screaming, I want it to be purely in pleasure.”

Then he moves, effortless, so your thighs are resting on his shoulders, his face so close to your cunt that you can feel the heat of his breath on your skin.

“I heard you, of course, but I know I can do an undoubtedly superior job… all you have to do is sing for me, sweet dove.”

Then he leans in close, spits on your cunt, and traces a lazy pattern on your clit with the tip of his tongue, uncaring of the mess he’s making, what with his own spit and your slick coating his tongue, your thighs, the sheets.

“As sweet as nectar, just as I suspected.” He half murmurs it against your skin, slides his tongue inside you and moans, completely without shame at the taste of you, at the way your smaller hands fist into his hair as you grind yourself against his mouth.

He pulls away from you, drawing a disappointed whine from your lips.

“So needy,” he sounds half amused, half aroused; you can’t see, of course, not in this position, but his cock is aching and throbbing against the sheets of your bunk, leaking pre cum into the fabric.

“Ez…”

He lays a soft slap to your overstimulated pussy, drawing a sharp gasp from you.

“Patience.” He leans in and kisses where he slapped, traces his tongue around your clit before sucking it greedily into his mouth, releasing it with a lewd sound before delving his tongue back inside you.

He’s about to become the worlds’ biggest hypocrite, and he damn well knows it, because the more he licks and sucks at your cunt, the more desperate he is to just fuck you. Especially when you start whimpering, practically convulsing beneath him with the force of your climax.

He doesn’t even bother wiping his mouth, uncaring that your slick is dripping off his tongue, into his short beard, coating his moustache.

Moves instead so his forehead is pressed to yours, one big hand cupping your breast as you recover.

“Tell me, dove, have you had enough? Or do you require more assistance? I’d be more than happy to oblige you in whatever you wish for, although arguably I’d be more in favour of you begging me to feed that sinfully sweet cunt my cock.”

A kiss to your lips before he continues, rolling a pebbled nipple between thumb and forefinger.

“I just know you can take me, can just imagine how well those soft, sweet walls will envelope me. Tell me, sweet girl. Tell me that you want it.”

Your brain is so fucking hazy from your climax, from his words, but you’re greedy. Greedy and desperate and you want more. Want him to feed your tight little pussy every bruising inch of his cock, satisfy the desire and need for him that’s been building, neglected, for far too long.

“Please, Ez, I need it… need all of you…”

He keeps his forehead pressed to yours as he releases your breast, keeps himself propped up on one arm, uses his free hand to position your leg how he wants you, before wrapping that same hand around his cock, the tip and underside coated with his own pre release. He strokes himself slowly, thumb caressing the thick vein in the underside of his length, repressing a slight shudder at how sensitive he is already.

He’s halfway to guiding himself to your cunt when your much smaller hand reaches down and starts to caress his balls, soft little touches that draw a groan from him. He doesn’t even bother trying to repress that sound, moans softly as you touch him, guides himself to your heat and sinks inside.

You moan the moment he slides inside you, panting the second he sinks the first inch of a considerable amount into you. Your hand abandons its caressing of his balls, flies to his back to brace yourself instead.

“Slowly now, dove,” he’s trying to be somewhat careful, as close to gentlemanly as he’s capable of being; knows he’s big, doesn’t want to hurt you.

You have other ideas.

“No, not slowly.” You demand, arching up against him, wrapping your thigh around his waist to try and get him in deeper. “Need all of you, need it so bad…”

Ezra is not a man known for his patience, more given to fits of impulse, and it’s that side of him that wins out as he presses deep into you in a single fluid movement, slamming his hips flush against yours.

Oh, but the sound you make, makes it worth losing the prospect of savouring the moment, taking his time filling you up. The way you scream for him, nails clawing sharp lines up his back, leaving little crescent shapes in his shoulders.

He can feel you tighten and pulse around him, cock throbbing and aching in response. He wants to say something, anything, something poetic, but you beat him to it, in your far less eloquent manner.

“Fuck, Ez, you feel so fucking good…”

He likes the shortened version of his name on your lips, even more so when you sigh it like that.

“Do I, sweet girl?”

Fuck, he loves hearing you praise him, praising his cock, feeling you soak him, the way you claw at him.

“So good,” you repeat, leaning up to kiss him as he starts to move, slow, teasing little thrusts that make you whimper.

“Tell me you love my cock, dove,” he moans as you tighten around him again, tight little pussy barely able to take him, and yet…

“I do,” you babble as he starts to move properly, slow, lazy, deep thrusts that brush your cervix and make you gasp in pleasure. “Fucking love your cock, Ez, need you inside me, needed you for so long.”

It’s enough, more than enough, to short circuit his brain; nothing matters anymore but the heat of your smaller body beneath his, the way you arch up against him, moaning and mewling and babbling praise to him that only serves as fuel for the fire burning inside him.

It feels like simultaneously no time at all and an eternity have passed before you’re convulsing beneath him again, lips parted in a desperate, broken moan as you soak his cock, giving him better friction to drag himself out of you, slam back in.

His stamina is moderately impressive, but he’s not going to last, not like this, not when you’re so perfect for him, one hand clawing at his back, the other fisted into the sheets.

“Better tell me where you want me, little dove,” he breathes it into your ear, “or I might just be inclined to plant my seed in this sweet cunt and claim you forever.”

You whimper, lock your legs around his waist, make him smirk in satisfaction.

“Oh, you’d like that?”

You moan your affirmation, pussy tightening and throbbing around him at the very thought, the idea of him filling you with endless ropes of his seed…

“I did say I was happy to oblige your every wish,” he nuzzles his face into your shoulder, leaves a soft bite to sensitive skin before he pulls himself into a mostly sitting position, both hands on your waist, dragging your smaller body onto his cock again and again, using you for his own pleasure until he feels his balls tighten, cock aching as he finds his release, spilling endless heat of his cum into your waiting, needy cunt.

You whimper, wriggle beneath him, desperate to keep every drop he’s given you inside. He stays there, looking down at you with something like feverish adoration, until he feels himself start to soften inside you, pulls out of you, watches some of his spend drop from your swollen cunt onto the sheets.

“What a waste…” he murmurs it almost to himself, before he moves down between your thighs again, fingers catching what’s dripped out and pressing it back inside.

“Ez?”

“Hm?”

“What’re you doing?” Your voice is thick with fatigue, and yet lust still hangs heavy from every word.

“I want to test the hypothesis that our tastes combined are sweeter than any possible drug I’ve had the fortune to sample in my time.”

You blush as you realise what he intends to do, his hands already spreading your thighs as he leans in to taste himself inside of you.

It’s going to be a very, very long night, and you’re going to love every last moment of it.

#my writing #pedro pascal #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #pedro pascal characters #prospect 2018 #prospect movie

[insomniamamma]

Threefold: Ezra x F!reader w/Cee

A/N: I am still working on my kiss prompts for @yearofcreation2023. Yeah yeah. I know we are well into 2024. But I am determined to finish these prompts. The prompt for this fic is "Kiss as a lie." This does not connect to any of my other Prospect fics, even though some terms may overlap. Enemies to reluctant allies. Reader is disabled and relies on body mods to assist her breathing. This one really got away from me. like 6K away from me.

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of injuries and medical procedures. Alcohol and drug consumption. Vomiting. Smut but nothing super graphic. Mentions of bodily fluids. This is not my usual Ezra. He is a shit in this one.

 “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t splatter your brains all over this bar.” You jam your thrower into the curls at Ezra’s nape. You watch him in the bleared bar mirror, watch the color drain from his face even as he smiles, starts to turn his head and you dig the barrel of the thrower in deeper, feel your finger tightening involuntarily, your need for vengeance vying with your need for satisfaction, for some sort of answer for what he did, finger curls slightly and releases again, Kevva knows you never expected to see him again, Kevva knows—something cold jams beneath the angle of your jaw and you snap back into the present. The bar mirror shows a slight girl with a halo of pale hair and thundercloud eyes, a small, freckled wisp.  “Put it down,” her voice is soft and steady, “I don’t want to hurt you but I will.”   “Well if this isn’t quite the predicament,” says Ezra, “How but you ease up on the trigger and we talk this out like civilized folk.”  “Your time for talk ended five stands ago,” Your eyes flick towards the bleary girl in the bar-back mirror, “I don’t know what he promised you, kid, but he’ll fuck you over the second it makes sense. You’re what, fifteen stands? When he ditches you on some no-name moon what’re you gonna do?” The barrel digs deeper into the flesh at your neck. Ezra says your name, not darlin or kitten or sweetheart or any of the slew of names he gave you down on The Green, but the one you told him, the one he murmured against the sweaty column of your throat while you arched beneath him, quivered around him, felt like a blessing from his lips as he spilled fever hot inside you.  “I did you wrong,” says Ezra, “You weren’t the first and you certainly weren’t the last, and, if I’m being honest, I did not think on you overmuch—“ The little girl in the warped mirror shakes her head--  “Ez--“ You feel the gun held against your throat tremble.  “But these past stands have not been kind,” says Ezra, “To either of us, I imagine.” His eyes flick up towards your reflection and you know exactly what he sees, and how could he not? Paired auto-breathers clipped to your collarbones, metal and plastic welded to meat in an a scarred seal, ports that can be used for a filter-hookup with the right adapters.  “So what? That’s the Fringe, isn’t it? That’s what you told me then—“  “How, exactly, do you imagine this plays out?” says Ezra, “You kill me, she kills you. Both of us dead here on the deck-plating and what’s the point of it? Revenge? Satisfaction?” You dig the barrel of your thrower into the meat at the nape of his neck, even as his girl shoves her weapon tighter against the angle of your jaw.  “Or let’s say I kill you,” Ezra purrs, and you become aware of a buzzing, like a neglected data pad with incoming message against your inner thigh, but that doesn’t make sense, data pad’s in your left breast pocket and he grins in the mirror, flick your eyes down and damned if he doesn’t have a laser scalpel pressed into the meat of your leg, blood corona already spreading, “Think you can make the shot before I clip your femoral artery? You didn’t crawl out of Bakhroma’s well to bleed out in this dive, did you?”  “Damn you, Ezra. You owe me. You left me to die down there.”  “I did indeed, and if you ease off the trigger for a tick, I can offer your recompense.You think it’s an accident? You and me nested into the same ring? Show her, Cee.”  “Ez, I don’t think-“  “Show her. And I’ll get us some drinks. I think a toast may be in order.”

“You know what we need to do, when we meet up with the others, right?” You cling to him despite the sticky heat of the tent, air thick and heady with the smell of sex, his come smeared between your bellies as you lay half atop him, head on his chest, his arm curled around your shoulder.  “I stay on one,” you say, yawning, drifting as he traces aimless patterns up and down your arm, “You switch to two. Give them the talk. You fake a comms error and go for your channel box. You take the big one and I pick off the leader. The one with the red. Then we get,  we get out of here.” He squeezes you tight as sleep takes you, his heart slow and steady beneath your ear.

 Cee sighs, rolls her eyes, pulls her thrower off your throat.  “Fine,” she says, and reaches for a bag slung at her side. 

 Ezra hails his crew, and hiss of static on your ear when he switches to two, your thrower in hand, trained on the leader, brilliant red plast pauldron over his exosuit, waiting for the signal, for Ezra to go for his channel box, what is he waiting for? He looks animated, smiling through the fog of his helmet, this is wrong, you think, and he turns, thrower in hand and shoots and the world whites out for a tick, your leg collapses under you and when you lift your head there’s Ezra, tucking his thrower back into his holster, the press of his boot against your shoulder rolling you on your back from where you curled around yourself, broken nerves screeching around the path of cooked flesh just above your knee. You know what’s happened, but part of you can’t believe it—  “Help me!” You say, met by the hiss of an open channel, he grabs your trophy case and tosses it to his friend, the big man with the railer he was supposed to kill, leans in and reaches for you and for a moment you think this is all some mistake, something that can be made right and he wrenches your filter out of it’s clip, cuts the hose so it’s you and the dust laden atmosphere.  “Why?” You ask and know he won’t answer, makes a big pantomime of tapping his helmet and shaking his head. Your eyes scrim over with tears, the cooked nerves in your leg screaming a wordless anthem, “Please.” Ezra bows his head but still smiles, presses his gloved fingers to his helmet and  blows you a kiss , that’s the fringe, girl, even with comms cut you can make out the words, and then he turns away, walking off into the brush with his crew. 

 “Carom-burned pearl,” you say, mouth taking over while your brain runs wild, this gem is trash, sure, but the size— “So what?” You drop your thrower back to your hip without even thinking on it. Impossible to tell the quality with the membrane half-burned into the surface, but still—  “Don’t play stupid.” says Cee, “You were on The Green. You know what you’re lookin at.”  “I know that I am looking at a botched pull,” you say, “I’m also looking at a little girl who thinks she’s found a friend way out here in the ass-end of the Great Arm. Did he give this to you, spring-sprite? Spin you a tale of buried treasure? He promise you an even split—“  “60/40. My way. 16th per point garnishment to clear his debt,” she says, “Ezra works for me.”  You laugh, a real one deep from your belly and the intake fans, your intake fans whir faster to make up for the perceived oxygen debt, vibrations through your bones that you can’t seem to get used to even after all these stands,   “Oh, honey, I was gonna kill him, but now I don’t think I will. Think I’ll let you reap the consequences here. Me and Ez? We’re done.”  “It’s the Queen’s Lair,” says Ezra, and you stop cold, half-way up off of your stool, seep back down like your legs have forgotten themselves. “I know. I know you’ll never believe me, but we were there.”  “You just happened on it right? Just happened to drop right down in the place that every fool and their brother went hunting for on that Kevva-forsaken rock.”  “Not me,” says Ezra, “Cee’s father.”  “So why isn’t it him making the pitch?”  “He didn’t make it,” says Cee. And you nod. Spacer’s phrase for a constellation  of mishaps. A blown hull. A dust infection. An altercation in some shit station bar over points or pussy or any number of things. An invitation to not ask. “It wasn’t even really him that found it—“  “Cee—“  “My father was contracted to harvest for Karoclan. Group of mercs found the Lair by accident. Probably digging a shit-pit. We landed bad. By the time we made it to the site it was just me and Ezra, and things got complicated.”  “Complicated.”  “We had to fight our way out. We barely made the sling.”  “You couldn’t do the job,” you say, “And you know I can.”  “That’s not-“  “She never learned the trick and I was trying to cut the blisters weak-handed,” says Ezra, “That’s why we need you.”  “You went back there. Even after all you took from me. You could’ve gone somewhere better with your cut but you didn’t. You got addicted to the rush.”  “I did,” says Ezra.  “Me and Ezra and now you are the only people that know the Queen’s Lair is even real,” says Cee, “We go there, we get a good pull and we can live off it for years. Now that the line’s dead the value’s just gonna go up. We get the pearls and trickle them into the market—“  “How’re we gonna get there with the line dead? No one makes the BG sling anymore. They just route everything around Ikhar and—“  “Got a hot-jumper willing to take us for a cut.” Says Ezra, “We ride the line till just after the Ikhar sling and then unclip and burn. Gets us in orbit in 6 stand months.”  “Risky,” you say, tapping you index and middle fingers against your right breather, vibration passing from metal into bone, a nervous habit born out of a rerouted urge to scratch at the healing skin.  “Yeah. But if we do it right, if we play it smart, none of us will have to drop down some Kevva-shunned well for a hand of points ever again. We can have the lives that sharp-toothed bitch moon took from us.”  “Like you didn’t have a part in it—“ Ezra reaches across the sticky bar and folds your hand in his—

 He grabs you under the arms, woah there girlie, this is bad ground, yanks you back, so focused on the pull that you didn’t feel the ground shifting beneath you, grab your gear and hold it to your chest even as you’re pulled back from the rapidly forming sink-hole in the loamy dirt, draw your thrower and whirl on the stranger, your gear scattered all around your feet. Don’t fuckin touch me.  Is that anyway to talk to someone who just saved your life? What’re you doing out here all alone anyway?   who says I’m alone?  You got crew? Raise ‘em on coms. Yeah that’s what I thought. Gonna get killed out here all alone.

 “I had every part in it,” says Ezra. “The breath of your lungs, Cee’s only living kin, and the arm from my own body. All victim to my greed and stupidity and short-sightedness. I used you and I duped you and robbed you and left you to die and Kevva rightly and thoroughly kicked my ass for it. If not for Cee I would have breathed my last in that forsaken jungle-“ You yank your hand away as if burned.  “You do not touch me,” you say, “We are not friends, we are not lovers. That part is over. Forever. We clear?”  “Clear,” says Ezra, that infuriating little half-smile crawling up his cheek, “That mean you’re in?”  “Maybe.”

 Didn’t realize how loud those fans were gonna be.  Maybe you’d like me to suffocate about it.     Does she ever turn that player off?  Do you ever turn your breathers off?  Not the same.  To her it is.

 What’s with you and her? You aren’t kin. You said you cost her only kin. In that pretty speech you gave me so I wouldn’t shoot you.  That is a complicated and lengthy tale.  We’ve got time.

 “Ezra? I don’t like this.” Cee eyes the blue gel pack in her hand.  “Once the bolts release Jada’s gonna burn hard,” says Ezra, “She’s got mods to deal with the pain and sickness, but we don’t. If we don’t dope down, we’re gonna be in a world of hurt.”  “People’ve died,” you say, and Ezra shoots you a dark look that you give right back, “They go into shock sometimes. Don’t wanna risk that right?”  “It’s not addictive, if that’s what you’re worried about,” says Ezra, “We’ve got a sixteenth to take it and have it work. You go past that and it’s your choice, Little Bird.” Cee’s eyes flick from your face to his, and you wonder how you’ve slipped into caring for this girl, this orphan of Ezra’s making, how you became someone she’d look to in a place of indecision.   “I’ve never hot-jumped myself, but I was crew with a man who was on a prison transport that did,” you say, hoping the grain of truth in the story will be enough to get Cee to chomp down on that gel pack when the time comes. You heard the story second hand on over drinks on Leylan bench, but Cee doesn’t need to know that. “They didn’t bother doping down the prisoners. Guess they didn’t want to spend the points. Aggie said him and most of the others exploded from both ends. It wasn’t nice. Hallucinated on top of that if I remember right. Hot jump fucks with people.”  “Heard some of those tales myself,” says Ezra. “Jada’s a professional. She’s so modded up she can’t handle a drop down a well anymore. She wants her cut we’ve got to be her hands. It’s not in her interest to lead us wrong.”  “We got a sixteenth?”  “Yeah, but how bout we get ourselves secure and do it all together?”   “Okay,” says Cee. The three of your wordlessly prep, following the instructions Jada gave you on boarding. Wear something soft. No jewelry, nothing rigid. These, Jada had flicked a finger against Cee’s music player, are a no-go. The crash beds have plenty of give but I’ve seen people come out the other side with holes in em from fancy buttons on their pants. These gonna be a problem?  Jada eyed your breathers and poked at one with a questing finger. How long’ve you had em? Bout five stands. Should be fine then. Bone’s had time to remodel and deal with the extra mass. You’ll be sore though. You remove the ring your mother gave you before you left the well, remove the studs from your ears, don the softest clothes you have. Cee wears an over sized shirt with Puzo in his space suit, long, coltish legs and bare feet sticking out. Her toenails are painted an alarming sparkly green, and your heart squeezes a little. She may have shoved a thrower into your neck but she is still very much a little girl.   “We ready?”  “This is gonna taste bad isn’t it?”  “Most likely,” says Ezra, “We bite down on a three count, yeah?” Cee scrunches her face, tucks the gel pack into her cheek and you and Ezra do the same.  “Ready? One, two, three-“  “Oh that is nasty-“ says Cee. You crunch down and swallow the drug in a convulsive gulp, bitter medicinal taste beneath something that is supposed to taste like bananas. Not that you’ve ever seen or eaten one.  “That is just—wrong.” You feel sleep sucking at your bones, and you can hear the sound of the hot-jumper’s engine’s spooling up, a bright spike of anxiety tries to lodge itself in your chest, familiar whir of your breathers kicking up as your heart rate rises and then the drugs take you down. 

 Come to with a raging headache,  Ezra and Cee are already awake and at the controls.   “Here,” says Cee and tosses you a pack of stim-chews, “Just do one. It’ll kill the headache.” You crunch one, sickly fruit and bitter and you feel a little more alert, but not in a pleasant way, like remembering the last bits of a long and unpleasant dream, not sure exactly what happened, but there was blood and horror and pressure.  “Something happened—“  “That’s the drugs,” says Ezra, “Telemetry’s good. We’re right down the line. Five by. Took you a little longer to come out of it, that’s all.” You try to sit yourself up, and your pectoral muscles scream, your clavicles ache where the breathers are clipped to them. You must make some sound, because Ezra turns to look at you, those dark eyes locked on you and you want to slap that concerned face right off his skull—  “You okay?”  “Yeah. Gimme a minute. Jada said it would hurt.”   “Should’ve said something, Kitten, I would’ve gotten you a patch—“  “I’m not your kitten, and it’s not your business.”  “You’re right,” says Ezra, “it’s not my business. But we go hot in a sixteenth and I’ll need you sharp. You know what you need to do?”  “Do you?”  “How bout both of you shut up and focus on the drop,” says Cee, “You can fight it out once we’re clipped back in and bench-bound.”  “Fair enough, Little Bird,” says Ezra, “You take the conn, Cee. Your controls.”  “My controls,” echoes Cee.   “Where’s the pain?”   “Clavicles. Achy around the breathers. I don’t think anything’s fractured-“  “Here,” says Ezra. He hands you two pain patches. “Peel these and I’ll stick em.”   “Fine.” You open one patch and then the other, stick them to your fingertips and hold up your hand for Ezra to take them. Scoop your hair out of the way and Ezra smooths the gel-patch on to the join of your neck and shoulder.  “There you go. Let’s get the other side.” His hand lingers, brief and warm and before you can tell him not to touch you he withdraws. “That should keep you creamy until we’re dirt-side. Don’t be shy about takin what you need from the kit. Need you steady downworld, we clear?”  “Clear.”

 This feels nothing like a normal drop, not the warning alarm and dull thump of bolts retracting. Going hot means a hand of solid fuel boosters will push you screaming towards the Green Moon, igniting as soon as the clips let go, push you away from the hot-jumper without slowing, vibration shaking the dropper in a sick two part resonance that hurts your ears and churns your stomach—  “Oi! chute status” Lock your eyes on the jittering screens.  “Bolts are go. Drogues are go. We’re go.” You flip up the toggle guards and hold your fingers above the switches. The thrusters fire and the dropper rocks, flipping itself so the engines face down, watch the numbers on your screen go green and listen for the callouts—  “Heat shield sep!—“  “Tracking?”  “We’re clear! Go for drogue deploy on your mark—“ The switches vibrate beneath your fingers, you feel the vibrations in your skull, in your bones, strange resonance in your ears that churns your stomach, crush your eyes shut so you don’t have to see the way the screens jitter in and out of focus.   “That’s atmo—“ says Cee.  “Blow the drogues in 3..2…1…mark—“ You flip the toggles and lurch forward hard into your harness, and then back into your crash-couch as the landing burn starts. “Where we at—?”  “Transonic,” you say, numbers blearing green on the scope, “we’re green.”  Hook a bag from where its stickied to your seat and wretch into it, smell of fake chocolate half-digested Bitz-Bars and jump drugs. Grav and spin enough to fuck your inner ears, and the engines burn hard,   “Landing gear deploy—“ calls Cee. There’s a hard thump and you’re down and stable but your roiled stomach and pounding skull and tight neck betray you and you dry heave while the others gear up.  “Gimme a minute,” you say, pressing your eyes closed, trying to get some sort of control over yourself, “Haven’t done much well-work since— since—,” heave helplessly over the bag but nothing comes up, there’s nothing too come up. Ezra rests his hand your arm.   “Hey. Look at me—“ You try to lift your head, and the world starts spinning again, too much time station-side, too much time in the gentle, predictable spin of bench-rings, your body’s forgotten the suck of the world on your bones, on your blood on your lungs  “Can’t,” you crush your eyes shut, welcome dark nulling out some of your screaming nerves.   “Okay,” says Ezra in the roiling dark, “Okay, Baby, I need you to breathe real deep through your nose for me.”  “Not your baby—“  “I know,” he says, “Deep breath. Through your nose. One, two, three--“  You breathe in, left over bitz bar chunks making their presence known, irritation followed by something numbing and cool and slightly spicy, you stomach calms but sweat breaks out all over your body--  “Is this even gonna work?” Cee glares, hands on hips, mostly suited.  “Finish kitting up and start scouting the perimeter,” says Ezra, “Stay on two unless I tell you different. We’ll be out shortly.” Cee narrows her eyes, but does what she’s told, seals her helmet and clips her filter and steps through the hatch, brief breeze of equalizing pressure, scrubbers kicking up to deal with the dust as do the fans clipped into you. When the seals cycle Ezra hands you a styrette.   “This’ll kill the nausea. Also you won’t be able to shit for a half-hand or so. It’s intramuscular”  “I’ve given myself hot-shots before,” you slide your pants down and jab the styrette into the meat of your thigh. Ezra’s eyes flick away.  “Cee’s funny about chemical help,” says Ezra, “Her father was an addict you see. He’d dope down and then stim awake and it scares her so-“

 “Let’s just suit up and do the job,” you say, baring your back to Ezra so you can don the compression garments that go under your suit. The suit’s a custom-job to accommodate your breathers, filter clipped into a hose split and spliced three ways, clean air for your breathers to pass on to your dust-scarred lungs, and another than clips in to your helmet. Settle your mic-rig over your ear.  “Channel two how read?”  “Channel two clear,” says Cee.  “Two clear,” says Ezra, odd doubling of his voice through your rig and through your helmet. And then the channel goes dead. Hollow thump of Ezra’s fishbowl pressed against yours.   “Can we do a suit check right quick?” His voice muffled by his helmet and yours, “I think i’ve got it, but I’d like—“  “Turn around.”  “Cee usually—“   “I’ve got it.” He turns his back to you and you lift the loose fabric off the back seal, two twist catches with hook and loop for the outer seal. You tighten the right side catch and smooth everything else into place.  “Thank you,” he says, “You need checks?”  “No, I’m green.”  “They’re still here—“ Cee’s voice loud and overdriven through your rig and Ezra bolts for the hatch. You shove yourself into the nacreous light, Bakhroma hanging above, it’s curve spanning the sky like a diseased rainbow, pulsing through thick clouds and the endless fall of dust.   “They’re dead, Birdie! Look! They’re just bones in suits. They can’t hurt us, okay?” You turn your back on them. Cee’s breath loud and ragged on two.  “Okay,” says Cee, “M’okay—I just”  “What the Kevva be-cursed fuck?” A plast box rises out of the tall grass, curled around in flowering vines inside and out, a skeleton inside seated on a small bench, glints of gold and bones stained a livid, unnatural pink.  “He got back in the box,” says Cee, “Why would he do that? He let us go and then he got back in the box.”  “Karoclan,” says Ezra, “An oblation I suppose.” Your neck prickles.   “Those folk are fuckin crazy,” You press the back of your hand to your helm and push away, palm out, a gesture to dispel bad luck, can’t rightly remember where you picked it up.  “Look,” says Cee,” standing in a bare, cracked circle of dirt, “This is where we boosted from. Must’ve baked out the soil.”  “Hey. Let’s get the pull. We can get all nostalgic once we boost.” Ezra gives you a dark look, but Cee, bounds past and into the trench.   “Ezra,” she says, her voice flat, even over coms. You and Ezra catch up to where she’s frozen, stone still, “He’s still here. Why is he still here? Why are they still here? It’s been almost a stand.” You push past Ezra and examine the sprawled and sagging suit, nudge the boxy helm with you boot, rotted breather hoses crumbling, dust floating up.  “Are you gonna get your shit together or not?” Cee flinches. Glares at you through her fishbowl. Ezra scowls.  “I hardly think—“  “I’m here to harvest,” you say, “And I will harvest, but I am not doing it alone unless you alter the split.”  “You’re out of line, Kitten,” says Ezra, “You seem to have forgotten who’s hired you on for this venture—“  “It’s okay,” says Cee, “I’m okay. Third time pays for all, right?”  “Third time pays for all,” says Ezra, “Clear.”  “So lets dig,” says Cee, “Fuck these guys, right?”  “Fuck ‘em.” you say, “We’re gonna get rich while these fellas feed the bugs for the next stand and change.”

 The kips that came before you exposed the leading edge of the deposit, oxidized crusts shimmering in Bakhroma’s murky light.   “They didn’t prime any of this?”  “They didn’t know to do so,” says Ezra. “That one over there—“ Ezra jerks his head towards a blood colored suit with faux gold adornments glimmering through a twisted clutch of creeper-vines, “Got himself acid burned for his troubles.”  “Dry breach.”  “Something like.” 

 This is no hurried dig, this is no quick pull and boost, Jada has her heart set on atmo-skimming around the outer moons before hooking back up. Trying to break some record. Ezra hovers at first, flitting around the perimeter you’ve established, light poles stabbed into the boggy ground, and then gets drawn in to the excitement of the pull, peering over your shoulders as you and Cee work. Cee is a quick study, follows your instructions to the letter, and between her hands and yours? The size and clarity is like nothing you’ve seen.  “This makes what we got last time around look like pea gravel,” you say.   “We’re going to have a weight issue,” says Ezra.  “Do we stop?” asks Cee.  “Absolutely not,” says Ezra, “We keep pulling and take the highest grade with us. And then we chem-burn what ever we leave behind.”  “That’s crazy!” says Cee.  “Think on it,” says Ezra, “We burn it behind us and no one else can get ahold of these gems ever again. Not at the size and quality we’re pulling.” You split the fibrous outer husk and Cee squeezes in the diffuser without being asked, and you feel yourself smile.  “The scarcity sets the price,” you say, “We’re the only folk who know about this deposit. No one will ever know we scorched it.”  “But all these pearls—“   “No one knows about them,” says Ezra, “Only us and Jada and she can’t ever drop down here herself. And some hot jumper hits a bench blatting about buried treasure on a world they can’t touch? Only ads to the mystique and rarity, and the points in our accounts.”  “Enough to get me into the Academy? You’re laughing,” she frowns at you, “why’re you laughing?”  “Because this is fuck you money,” you say, “We play this right you can probably buy yourself a station-ring or five somewhere in Central. This is do whatever we want forever kind of money if we keep our heads.”  “She’s right,” says Ezra, “We play the long game and there’ll be precious little we can’t do.”  “Still want to go to the Academy” says Cee, peeling the outer husk away just like you showed her and backing off so you can cut the carom blisters, but there is a tub full of the biggest pearls you’ve ever laid eyes on hardening in the fazer.  “And so you shall,” says Ezra.  “You do this one.”  “You sure?”  “You’ve been watching me excise blisters all cycle. Give it a go.” Cee turns the pinkish mass one way and then another, jaw clenched in fraught concentration, trying to grip without touching the blister, the trick is to slide the blade under and cut it free from beneath, go in at the wrong angle and the cillia react, defensive mechanism.   “What’re you gonna study at the academy?” You ask, and her face loosens up some, her hands do the work they’ve been trained in, pulls the inner husk tight and slides the blade under the blister.  “I’m thinking a botany/anthropology double major,” she says, flicks the blister into the weeds like she’s done it a million times before.  “Huh,” you say.  “Interesting combination, Birdie,” says Ezra. “What ties the two together?” Cee slices another blister and flicks it away, brief curl of steam where it sizzles in the grass.  “What doesn’t?” says Cee, “Why do people bring certain plants from one world to the next? You remember the orchard we saw on Verres? Someone planted those trees there. Don’t you wanna know who and why?”  “Guess so,” says Ezra, “It was a bit creepy seeing all those trees in lines. Verres being classed unihabited and all.”  “I’ve seen stuff like that too. Folks’ve been screwing around in The Great Arm for a long time-“  “Hey! Fazer!” Cee barks and you squeeze the fluid into the cut, watch the husk curl and shrink away.   “There she is,” says Ezra and the three of you look at Cee’s prize, held aloft in the murky daylight, Bakhroma’s ruddy arc taking up most of the sky.  “Not the best one we’ve pulled—“  “This one’s mine,” says Cee, snatches the squeeze and coats the pearl before tucking it into her suit pocket, slow smile creeping up her face, “This is my fuck you pearl. We make it out of here and I’ll use it as a paperweight if I get into the Academy.”

 “When you get into the Academy,” says Ezra, and Cee rolls her eyes, and you feel yourself smile a little. You like Cee.   “You should do one, Ezra,” says Cee, “You peel it down and I’ll hold it for you.”  “I don’t think—“  “Give it a go,” you say,  “Get yourself a fuck you pearl.”

 Ezra eyes the exposed deposit, an irregular honeycomb of aurelac pores, dirt darkened to mud, sprayed water from the onboard tanks to rinse away the caustic slime.   “In for a penny in for a pound,” he says, just loud enough for the mic rig to pick up and shoves his arm inside. His breath comes ragged over two.  “Ezra?”  “I’ve got it, birdie. It’s a big one,” he says, and Cee slices through the dirt flecked umbilicus. Ezra cradles his prize like a kitten then sets it on the tray. Cee gives it a good rinse like she’s been trained to, pinches the outer husk and rolls it between her gloved fingers, loosening it up from the inner husk so Ezra can cut.   “It’s thick,” says Cee, “You got wiggle room. We got time. It’s not like before.” Ezra’s breath steadies and he cuts, splitting the fibrous husk, slow, careful movements, beads of sweat popping out on his brow.  Cee peels the husk away, like taking off a sock and you douse everything with the diffuser. Ezra primes the blade, waits for it hit the right setting and then freezes, sharp edge glinting in the ugly light as his hand shakes. Cee wraps her hand around his wrist.   “You’ve got this.”  “Okie. Yeah. Let’s give her a go. Third time pays for all, right?”  “Third time pays for all.”

 One half-stand later…

 Pain is the first thing, deep, sprained ache in your chest, thirst is second, thirst and taste in your mouth and nose like burnt rubber, third is a warm hand holding yours. Squeeze your fingers around a warm palm, around a plastic handle with a button on top that you press and then there’s no more ache, no more thirst, no more light shining blood ugly through your closed lids.

 Later. You come back to yourself. The pain is less and the thirst is more. Slit your eyes and cram them shut, dark blob leaning over you haloed in screaming light, the hand holding yours lets go.  oh, shit, let me douse the lights.  And the bloodshine through your eyelids stops. Blink the tears out, and Ezra’s face resolves out of the dark his face pinched with worry.  “Oh Kevva, I’m dead.” His eyes go big and then he brays laughter.   “Fraid not, Kitten. Might not feel like it right now but the head nurse assured me that you’re healing well.”  You close your eyes, and press the button that will kill the pain.   “Why’re you here?”  “Cee was worried. She keeps tabs on both of us. She couldn’t make it herself, she’s up to her eyeballs in her new school, she tested in and—“ Sleep is calling, the ache in your chest dying to a low hum.  Why’re you really here? not sure if you say it or think it, and the drugs call you down before you can figure it out.

 thirsty.  “Can you sit? I’ve got you.” His arm curls warm around your back and tilts you up, plastic straw pressed against your lip and you drink deep, frigid water against your raw throat.  “Slow sips,” says Ezra, “Don’t want to shock your stomach.” One arm holds you up, a hand offers you a cool drink. You blink your eyes open, confusion  and cool water against your dry  tongue wake you some, close your lips around the straw and drink deep before Ezra snatches it back, plastic bottle gripped in an intricately articulated prosthetic hand, burnished metal plating like the scales on a snake's belly, telltales and indicators winking, etched over with decorative grooves, circles and curves. Looks a bit like a nav map.   “Slow,” he says. You narrow your eyes at him and swish the water around your mouth, trying to wash the dryness, the foul taste away before swallowing.   “You didn’t go for a regrow?” Your voice sounds lower than usual, ratchety. Ezra shakes his head.  “Too much nerve damage for that,” he says, “Scarring and time passed.” You reach for the bottle and he puts it in your hand  “Slow,”  you say before he can, “I know. Ezra, why are you here? You got your new arm, I got my breathers out and Cee’s got her schooling. We got the agreement set. Third time pays for all, so why are you here?”   “Cause I did you dirtier than that cache of pearls could ever pay for,” says Ezra, “And you shouldn’t be all on your own right now.”   You want to say something back, but you’re so tired, even the act of speaking has made you tired right down to your bones, chest and throat screaming in protest, and your eyes scrim over with tears. One escapes and Ezra strokes it aside with the pad of his thumb.    “I pushed the call button, Kitten, they’ll be here soon.”  “Not your fuckin Kitten,” you say as Ezra folds your hand warm in his, “Not your friend.”  “I know.”  i know.     

#year of kisses #year of themes 2023 #yeah yeah it's 2024 #what am i supposed to do time travel about it? #ezra x f!reader with cee #prospect 2018 #prospect fanfic