#ezra prospect angst

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Starlight, Chapter Three:

pairing: fae!ezra prospect x princess!oc (Marigold)

rating: M (my blog is 18+ only, minors dni, dual/alternating POV, depression, magic/fantasy elements, ezra's got a plan but mari's got no fuckin clue)

wc: 5.2k

series masterlist

EZRA

Though I awoke most mornings to a familiar bit of shame blossoming inside my chest like a rotted flower straight from Hel, this morning was accompanied by a horrible guilt that only took two seconds of consciousness to place. 

Marigold. 

Thinking of her face—her perfect, heartbreaking, soul-consuming face—when she came down the staircase after…

I didn’t want to think of what she must’ve endured at the hands of her new husband. Another thing to repent for. But it was more than that that plagued me, forcing me into sending a very angry and jealous Emita away last night. It was the look of betrayal written in Mari’s eyes as she saw Emita and I together, as if it had been the final straw to break her. 

I wanted to console her, to assure her that what Emita and I shared was nothing more than a friendly service to one another—at least on my part—but she wouldn’t let me. I didn’t blame her then and I don’t blame her now as I lay in my all-too cold bed, staring up at the dark green curtains draped above the four-poster frame. The only thing to remind me of home, of my purpose for being here.

It had been my fault—all of it. I was the one who selfishly arranged all of this. The one who had secrets to hide. The one to ignore all of my well thought out plans in favor of more time with her, more of her trust, more of that sunbaked light that would have radiated from her even if I wasn’t born to spot it. 

The light to my dark. The reason this all started, and the reason it all could come crumbling down before me. 

MARIGOLD

I didn’t leave my suite for three days following my wedding night. 

I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing Kaius, and it seemed he felt the same way about me. I hadn’t received any visits from guards informing me that the King requested my presence, and though I felt relieved at the thought of not having to lay beneath him again, I couldn’t shake the feeling of insecurity that followed. 

I longed to have some older, seasoned, trustworthy woman around me to offer advice, to rid me of my insecurity and assure me that I’d done nothing wrong. But all I had was Drusilla, and she was only a girl. It didn’t feel right placing my adult issues on her shoulders, and so, I kept to myself. 

She only visited twice a day, once in the morning to dress me and style my hair, and once in the evening to bathe and dress me for bed. I urged her to talk, even when I kept silent, just to hear her voice that sounded so much like my eldest sister’s did when I was just a little girl and she was Drusilla’s age. Drusilla didn’t seem to mind, even though her eyes told me she yearned to hear me speak instead, if only just to be sure I was still capable. 

Tonight, I was more quiet than usual as I sat in the front of the fireplace in my suite’s sitting room, staring at myself in the reflection of the large window leading out into pure blank night. My golden brown skin had faded into dullness even with the glow of the fire, my eyes both swollen and darkened by my tears and lack of sleep. My lips were cracked, my cheeks hollow. I looked nothing like myself and exactly like I felt. 

Knocks rang on the main door, but I didn’t welcome anyone in. I couldn’t. My voice wouldn’t come even if I tried to muster the energy to speak. My guest must’ve either realized that or disregarded their manners entirely because within a minute, the door opened and two sets of footsteps along with the squeak of a rolling cart began to fill the crushing silence all around me. 

“Mari,” Drusilla’s young voice sounded, a warm and familiar balm to the icy ache in my chest. “I’ve brought your dinner.”

I turned, planning to give her a nod and the closest thing to a smile I could muster, but Ezra’s presence behind her wiped all tenderness from me. I gave him a disapproving look that I hope conveyed my disinterest in his company before turning back to the fire. 

“We thought we’d eat with you,” Drusilla persisted, the clatter of plates being laid on the table in the dining room beside me forcing my eyes to close in defeat. “The Great Hall is packed with soldiers and noblemen. Not exactly the place for a girl. At least this girl.”

I made myself nod, my head slightly turning in the direction of the armchair beside the one I was seated in. Ezra’s presence was unbearable. Suffocating. Yet still as intoxicating as it had been before my world shifted on its axis when I caught him and Lady Emita in the hall. 

“I wanted to check in on you,” he began, his voice low enough that Drusilla wouldn’t overhear it in the next room. “And I apologize for it taking so long for me to do so. I’ve been…occupied.”

“There was no need.” I surprised myself with my own voice after not hearing it for so long. 

“Regardless,” he managed, though I could see he was struggling with his own shock. “It’s my duty to ensure your welfare.”

I scoffed—or perhaps it was more of a laugh—and shook my head. 

“I’m perfectly well,” I assured, however much of a lie it had been. 

“You don’t look well,” he noted, his eyes darting across each of my dull, lifeless features. “You look…broken.”

I didn’t mask my rage, those same features sharpening as I stood up and faced him. He looked rattled, perhaps even a bit fearful, but remained seated. 

“I wasn’t his to break and I am not yours to fix,” I seethed. “Find somewhere else to eat your dinner.”

“Marigold,” he pleaded, soft and gentle, but no less desperate. 

“Leave me.” I ordered him away like a peasant, causing his eyes to sharpen a bit. “I am your Queen, and I am ordering you to leave me. So leave.”

Ezra stood, his jaw settling with a grind that told me he had many things he wished to say in retort but refrained. I watched him walk away with a look of pure hatred while fighting the feeling of pure longing swelling inside me, ready to suffocate me. 

“Mari,” Drusilla scolded, her purple eyes fixing on mine as she lingered in the archway of the dining room. “I like the Hand. He’s kind.”

“Kind men don’t work for men like Kaius,” I replied, dry and cold. The tone shocked her into silence, and I immediately felt sick with regret. 

She deserved none of my anger, and yet, here I was doling it out. 

“I’m sorry,” I sighed, crumbling back into my chair. “I’m just…tired.”

“You’ve been tired ever since your wedding,” she noted, quietly creeping into the spot Ezra had sat in just moments before. “It’s worrying, not only to me but…the Hand. The two of you seemed to behave like friends before. What happened?”

“Adult things, Dru,” I managed. “Things that I don’t want you having to shoulder.”

“Did he…did he hurt you?” she asked, careful but concerned. I turned to her, my eyes softened. 

“The Hand did not physically hurt me,” I replied, my words chosen carefully. 

No, he didn’t physically hurt me, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever recover from the wounds caused by the sight of him with another woman. No, he didn’t hurt me, but wasn’t it worth mentioning that I hadn’t once thought of what Kaius did to me? That the thought of Ezra with another person took precedence over that?

“Then why—“

“The food is getting cold,” I said, deciding that even though the thought of eating with this pit inside my chest made my stomach turn, I would do it just to avoid more questions. 

Drusilla took the seat beside me at the table and eagerly began on her plate, the silence pouring over us more comfortable than all the questions for the time being. But given the curious and persistent young woman she was, it didn’t last long. 

“I know you hate him, but I like him,” she offered in between bites. “And I trust him.”

“Why?” I didn’t know why I asked, or why it was so important to me that he’d earned her trust. Trust that was not easily given over given her background. 

“He could have thrown me into a room no bigger than a dungeon like all the other servants, but he didn’t. He set me up in a real bedroom, with a giant bed and books to read. When I made a comment about the lack of female servants and the unease I felt because of the male servant’s gazes, he could have ignored me, or told me to get over it, but he didn’t. He went out and hired a whole team of women from the shelters in town, and then he went and got rid of all the men I’d said had lingering eyes.” I focused my eyes on my plate, pushing around peas to arrange them into different shapes. Anything to distract myself from the fact that Ezra, however uninterested in me, might actually be a decent man. “And with you—“ My eyes shot to hers. A warning, and an invitation. “I’m no expert when it comes to royal protocol, but I can’t imagine it’s customary for the King’s Hand to take such care of his Queen. He has duties, an entire army to oversee, and yet, he’s stopped me in the halls morning, noon, and night to ask about you. To ask if you’re eating, to ask if you’re sleeping, to…ask. He cares for you, Mari, in a way I’m not quite capable of understanding yet. But even in my inexperience and naivety, I can see that you care too.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes, my shoulders shrugging instead. 

“I don’t care, and neither does he,” I managed, soft but firm. “That is how it’s supposed to be and how it will remain.”

“Mari—“

“Finish your sprouts,” I scolded, tapping the rim of her plate with my fork. She gave me a look that screamed pure adolescent disdain, but obeyed, stabbing into the sprout like she had a vendetta. I watched as she lifted it to her mouth and made a face as she chewed, a smile creeping its way onto my face at the simplicity of this moment. 

No awful husbands, no infuriating Hand’s, just two girls having a meal together, doing all they can to make the other feel better. 

“I’m sorry for my mood lately,” I said, helping her clear the table after our dinner was finished. “I’m still adjusting to this new life, but…having you in it has been a bright light to all this darkness. I just needed you to know that.”

Drusilla frowned, but there was no sadness in her eyes. Instead, she looked…well, she looked happy. As if she had been waiting for this reassurance. 

“Sisters,” she smiled, offering me her pinky. I chuckled, once again shocked at the sound, and coiled my own pinky around hers. A promise, one that neither of us took lightly. 

“Sisters.” 

After two more days of total isolation, I began to go stir crazy. I read myself into slump of boredom, then played the pianoforte until the music began to sound like nails raking across stone, before finally resorting to a bit of physical labor by rearranging my sitting room not once, not twice, but three times until Drusilla was begging me to go out and expel some of my energy on Ezra’s soldiers. That I declined, but agreed to give her some reprieve from my company by going for a long, hopefully draining, walk. 

I decided to stay in the castle to avoid unnecessary stares from the men training out in the snowy courtyard, even if these stone walls reminded me of my helplessness. My prison sentence. 

Kaius’s quarters took up the entirety of the West Wing of the castle, all five floors reserved for him and whoever was unfortunate enough to be invited. I had no interest in exploring his multiple council rooms, private suites, and torture chambers anyway. 

As I walked through the first floor of the East Wing, I managed to lose all sense of direction, the dark, lamplit stone walls all blending in together until I found myself in a narrow corridor, lit by only a few torches. The hair on my arms stood, a sense of dread and unease curdling my stomach until I was sure my lunch would find its way onto the stone beneath my slippers. 

I reached a corner in the hall, the corridor to my left shrouded in darkness so black I swore I had stumbled upon hell itself, but it was the giant stone door on my right that wrought the most fear. It wasn’t particularly menacing, it’s stone the same as the one leading into my suite, but it was the lock hanging by the doorknob that startled me.

What was so dangerous in this castle that it had to be locked inside? And more importantly, who held the key to unlocking this monster?

“I wouldn’t go adventuring in there,” a familiar voice, Ezra’s voice, spoke from around the shadowy corner. I gasped, clutching my chest to soothe the hard thump of my heart. When the fear subsided and irritation set in, I glared at him, watching as he came closer into the faint torchlight. He was dressed in his leathers—he must have been outside training with his men. 

“Do you just stand and wait in the shadows praying that you’ll stumble across someone you can pester?” I spat, not failing to notice the slight lift of one of his brows. 

“No,” he said, fighting back a smirk. “Just you, Your Majesty.”

I didn’t bother fighting back an eye roll. 

“What’s in there?” I finally caved, pointing at the door to my right. 

“I’d tell you, but I doubt you’ll be able to sleep knowing what lies under the same roof as you,” he said, sincerity thick in his tone. I shivered and took him for his word. “If you’re looking to explore, though, I could show you other, less haunting parts of the estate.”

I fought a sneer away at his offer. Given the way my heart still pounded in his presence, I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with him for an entire afternoon. 

“I’m sure I can see myself around,” I said, trying to be as polite as I could, all things considered. “Is it just the one dungeon, then?”

Ezra laughed. Something small and airy, but a laugh. 

“Perhaps I should draw you a map,” he said, not fighting his smile any longer. “Err on the side of caution.”

I gave him a condescending smile and said, “Perhaps.”

“I can see you’re still angry with me,” he said, following me down the hall as I made my way back from where I came. 

“I feel nothing towards you,” I spat, crossing my arms over my chest. 

“Have you forgotten my gift?” he said, and though I couldn’t see his face, I could hear his amusement. It was enough to earn him a glare from over my shoulder. “You’re angry, and you’re…I don’t know what it is. But it’s heavy. It’s…raw.”

“Irritation, likely,” I chided, reaching a dead end in the corridor. “Since you insist on joining me, can you please be of some use and guide me out of this awful maze of a prison.”

“I can be useful in many ways,” he returned, his eyes locked on mine as I turned to him. “Ways I’d love to show you one day.”

I gave him another roll of my eyes, an exasperated chuckle slipping from my lips as I shook my head and gestured at the stone wall in front of us. “Let’s start with getting out of this maze first, perhaps?”

Ezra didn’t seem to take my tone or scowl to heart—he actually seemed to rather enjoy the look of me rolling my eyes given the wide grin he wore as he lifted his palm flat to the stone. My gaze flickered between his good hand pressed against the wall and the golden glow of his irises, so molten I was sure if I looked too long at them I’d start to melt. 

“Wh—“

“I’m trying to focus on building a portal for you, Your Majesty,” Ezra cut in, though no true frustration could be found in his tone. “Or would you rather we exit through one of those dark corridors you nearly sprinted past?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, half tempted to overcome my fear of the dark—or rather, what lurked in it—and leave him here just to prove him wrong. 

But that would only end up with my lost down another corridor, wishing I’d set my pride aside and let him work. So, I did. 

It only took a minute longer for the stone to fade into sheer darkness, a black so black my eyes almost couldn’t process the color. I stumbled back, though instinct told me there was no reason to worry—my instinct, it seemed, was a fan of the man beside me, smirking proudly. 

“See what a little ounce of patience can achieve, my dear Mari?” he tipped his chin towards the void in front of me, distracting me from bringing up the fact that he’d used a nickname that only the closest to me used. I couldn’t deny that it sounded good coming from his lips. “It’s only dark for a moment.”

“Where does it lead?” I prodded, my tone still sharp from fear. 

“That depends,” he shrugged. “Where would you like it to lead?”

“That seems like something one might have considered before opening a portal,” I chided.  

“It leads anywhere,” he corrected. “Anywhere your heart desires. Although, I wouldn’t venture too far without a way back.”

“Meaning, if I were to choose to run back home, or to my sisters, I’d have to bring you to ensure—“

“To ensure your husband doesn’t come hunting after you like one of his poor beasts,” he cut in, his tone dry and serious despite his previously light mood. 

“Worry not, dear Hand, I have no intentions of making a great escape. I doubt my father would welcome me back in Solis even if I tried.” 

Ezra’s eyes softened, his jaw ticking as he continued to stare at me as I continued to stare at the void, neither one of us willing to break first. 

“Do you trust me?” he spoke after a beat of tense silence, my eyes gliding over to meet his as my brows furrowed with confusion. 

“Today?” He gave me an unimpressed look. “Yes, Ezra, I trust you. Mostly.”

“Then take my hand,” he said, his voice low and raw and…desperate? What reason did he have to be so desperate for my trust? For my touch?

“Where?” I asked, hovering my hand above his. 

“My favorite place in the entire world,” he smiled. “Where it’s green and happy, where there are no worries. Only nature. Only peace.”

I swallowed, suddenly aware that taking this step was pushing the line I had drawn between us. I’d learn more about him, what makes him happy, what makes him feel at ease. He and I would go off together without a single person aware that we were even missing. The possibilities of stupidity had multiplied in the mere seconds it took for him to make the offer. 

“I…” 

My hand trembled as I tugged it back to my side, reason winning out over curiosity. This time, at least. 

“I think I’ll just head back to my suite,” I said hurriedly, lifting the hem of my dress as I approached the void. I swore I could hear a sigh slip from his lips as I took the first step into the portal, though that could have been the sound of me gasping for air as the darkness washed over me. 

It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, being in the space between all things, however fleeting it was. One second I was nowhere, darkness and nothingness threatening to consume my very soul, and the next I was tripping over the rug in my sitting room, my knees screaming at me as I hit the hard floor with a yelp. My head whipped around, desperate to shout at Ezra for my own clumsiness, but there was no more portal, and certainly no Ezra. 

I was surprised by the guilt that rotted my stomach as I sat on the floor in the middle of the room, knees scraped and head aching. He’d offered up a piece of himself with me to share, something I was sure not just anyone received, and I turned him down without so much as a thank you. 

I hadn’t even looked him in the eye. 

EZRA 

An entire day had passed since the interaction in the corridor. Since Mari drew a clear line right between where she and I stood. Though the rejection stung, I couldn’t find it in myself to blame her for it. I was not a part of her plan—a plan I had carefully conceived and executed without her knowledge. All to get her here. To use her for her light, for the half of me that was missing. The half that would give me enough power to set things right in this Kingdom and give retribution to my people. 

But that plan was cracking under the weight of my feelings for her, feelings I knew were born not out of something as temporary as lust or love, but belonging. She was the missing part of my soul that I was meant to find by birth, destined to fit together like the final pieces of a puzzle. And she had no clue. 

“Is there any particular reason you called for this little meeting, Your Highness?” Emita purred at me, half-bent over my desk in the conservatory above my suite. The entirety of both rooms were warded with magic, hiding everything spoken, everything done inside these walls from the likes of Kaius and his crones. 

“That’s all over, Emita,” I sighed, rubbing my temples. “This is a business matter.”

“Which explains why I got an invite.” 

My eyes lifted to my dearest friend since childhood, a Fae noble serving as a Captain of Kaius’s army, Cassander. Standing half an inch taller than me—a fact he loved to throw in my face—with golden, shoulder length waves, and dark blue eyes, he was always what I imagined a King to be. His temperament was fair and light, and yet his determination and loyalty was as fierce as a lion, a balance that is not often stumbled upon. 

“Hello, lovely Emita,” he purred, smirking at her as she stomped away from my desk to her favorite chair overlooking the dark, snowy grounds. “In a mood again?”

“I’m always in a mood when you’re around, loathsome Cassander,” she retorted, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Children,” I sighed, gesturing at the seat next to where Cassander stood, urging him to sit and listen rather than continue to pick on Emita. “We need a new plan.”

“No, we don’t,” Emita hissed. “The plan was perfect—“

“The plan requires us to take a woman hostage and possibly incapacitate her by literally pulling the light out of her,” Cassander interjected. “I’ve always been against the plan.”

“There’s no other way to set things right without that power, Ez,” Emita persisted. “I’d like for my Kingdom to not turn into ice. I’d like this Kingdom to not succumb to the dark. I’d like—“

“There’s another way,” I cut in, rubbing two fingers along the hair on my jawline. 

“Oh, Gods,” Cass smirked. “The way I originally suggested, you mean?”

Emita jumped to her feet and bounded over to where I sat, still calmly stroking my chin. 

“Please tell me how you plan to seduce and mate with a woman who’s already married? A human, might I add.” My eyes slowly lifted to meet hers, taking in the equal amounts of shock, disbelief, and betrayal hidden in her stare. “You cannot fool the Gods, Ezra. They know what’s true and what’s a fallacy—“

“There is no fallacy,” I said, my voice low even with the wards in place. I had no desire for anyone to overhear the words that came out of my mouth next. “It’s true, Mari and I, and the Gods will agree.”

She stumbled back as if I had struck her. The look in her eyes was enough to make me feel as guilty as if I had. 

“How can you be sure?” Cass chimed in, ever the levelheaded one. 

“I can feel it in my bones. In my soul,” I said, standing from my chair. “She is the light to my dark, and I—whether she realizes it or not—am the dark to her light. It calls to me every time I see her. That taunting glow. My shadows sing for her when she’s near, as if they…as if they’ve found home after a long journey.”

“I might cry,” Cass teased, earning an eye roll as I seated myself on the edge of my desk, still lost in thought. 

“That still does not promise a single thing,” Emita spoke through clenched teeth. “She could fall in love with her husband, or she could betray us, or she could refuse the power exchange altogether.”

“She won’t fall in love with her husband, she won’t betray us, but you’re right,” I nodded. “There’s no way of knowing whether she’ll agree to the exchange. But seeing as the alternative means that I will have to kidnap, imprison, and possibly kill her, I’ll take my chances.”

“Ezra, do you have any idea—“

“Oh, shut up, Emita,” Cass groaned, rolling his eyes. “You’re just upset because this means no more secret visits to the conservatory.”

“Cass,” I warned, glaring at him. “This isn’t about us, it never has been—“

“Until you found your mate, right?” Emita spat. “Then it became about what you want. If it was about the greater good, about our cause, you would do what we agreed on. But you want this. Selfishly, you want her.”

“So what if I do?” I hissed back, stepping towards where she stood without a trace of fear on her face. “This is the new plan. You can either get on board or find another Fae Prince to align yourself with. But I am not going to hurt her if I do not have to. More than that, I want what’s promised to me. All of it.”

“And you’re going to get all of us killed in the process, Your Highness,” she spat back before turning away, her heels clicking on the stone floor as she stomped her way to the door and saw herself out. 

“Well, I’m happy for you, Ez,” Cass smiled, standing up and walking over to give me a squeeze on the shoulder. “Even if it means the lovely Lady Emita will no longer be a member of ours.”

“She will,” I insisted. “She wants her husband dead too much to give up now.”

“Such pure intentions,” he chided, making himself comfortable at my desk as I remained standing in the center of the room, staring out of the floor-to-ceiling windows to the night sky. “When can I meet your mate?”

“You haven’t yet?” I asked half heartedly, turning away from the sky that had an alarmingly fewer amount of stars in it. Soon, there would be none. Just complete darkness to rule over the land of Nox. 

“As if you don’t already know that,” he chuckled. “C’mon, I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Why do you want to meet her?” I prodded, that biological instinct to protect my mate taking over all reason. Cassander was the most trustworthy man I’d ever known, far more so than myself. 

“I’m curious,” he shrugged. “It’s not often that someone comes along and changes the entire world.”

I leveled a disbelieving look at him, making him laugh. 

“Does she have a sister?”

“And there it is,” I laughed despite the stress weighing down my shoulders. “They’re all spoken for, I believe.”

“Back to pining for Emita it is,” he sighed. “Don’t you think our testy back and forth would make for a passionate coupling?”

“I think she’d kill you in your sleep,” I returned with a half smile. “And that would make me inconsolable, seeing as you’re the closest thing to family I have anymore.”

“You’d still have Gail,” he shrugged, though I knew the thought of leaving his younger brother behind in this world plagued him each and every day. 

“Speaking of,” I smiled. “I happen to know a lovely girl who’d do well with a friend.”

“Are you trying to set my brother up with Emita? He’s only sixteen!”

“I meant a girl his age,” I replied. “Drusilla, she’s the handmaiden for Mari.”

“Mari,” he teased, and I chose to ignore it. 

“She’s become something like a sister to Marigold,” I gave him a pointed glare. “I doubt she’ll leave her behind, nor should she. Perhaps if she becomes attached to Gail, it would help convince Marigold to join us when we finally make our move.”

“You mean to use my brother as a tool?” he asked, his voice flattening into something resembling anger, though I couldn’t be sure as I’d never actually seen Cass angry. 

“I mean to introduce Gail to a new friend,” I shrugged. “The result of that friendship is just a bonus.”

“Is the girl kind, at least? Smart?” 

“She’s exceptionally bright,” I declared. “She’s visited me a few times to use the telescope and borrow books on astronomy, which Gail has an affinity for. And yes, she is kind. Nothing like the world she was born into.”

Cass seemed to deliberate, his knee bouncing as he sat in my chair with his hands folded over his lap. 

“Fine, arrange a meeting,” he conceded. “But I will be there as a chaperone.”

“As will Mari, no doubt,” I added. “Try not to scare her off, will you?”

“I’m not the one you need to worry about,” he assured. “Emita is likely working on acquiring some sort of poison to slip into her meal as we speak.”

“If she’s to poison anyone, it’ll be you and I, dear brother.”

At least, I hoped it would.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #ezra x oc #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x oc #starlight #ezra prospect angst #ezra prospect fluff

[imtryingmybeskar]

Starman Chapter Seventeen.

This is it my loves. The end has arrived. Thank you all for reading and being on this journey with me. If anyone would ever like to drop into my asks with any further things they want me to write, please, please do. I love this little world.

Warnings for smut, consensual somnophilia, blowjobs, fingering, rough sex, spanking, anal play, mentions of war and violence, mentions of death, mentions of pregnancy.

Word count: 7.2k

Starman

Chapter Seventeen

Starman

Warm sunshine soaked into his very soul as Ezra turned his face upward, seeking the rays like a sunflower. He hummed pleasurably at the sensations of his body - the faint beading of sweat beginning to prick at his hairline, the warm, comforting echo of the womb behind his closed eyes, the heated, coarse, dry grains of sand against his palm as he stretched out and leant back on to it, the tang of salted air and vibrant life, the swish and swirl of the ocean as it came forth and receded. Again, again, again. His heart and his mind were at peace - he couldn't remember such tranquility within him before. He loved and was loved - dearly, closely, eternally.

As if she had heard his thoughts he felt her close - hair tickling his shoulder as she nestled against it, soft lips brushing the scruff at his jaw, a hand trailing down - past his chest, past his stomach, past decency of any kind. He gave a breathy little chuckle of amused anticipation.

"My love, what are you doing?"

"What I love to do," came her voice next to him.

"There are other people here," he reminded her.

"Are there?" she replied cheekily, and without further preamble he felt the wet heat of her tongue running twisting patterns down his torso, kisses interspersed with reckless abandon among the delicate dance. His breath felt forced from his lungs at her touch and he momentarily forgot he had only one arm, attempting to reach for her before he realised he could not without collapsing to the sand.

"You...you..." he breathed.

"Do you want me to stop?" came the soft enquiry. No. Never. He could never get enough of what she was willing to share with him. And they shared everything. He tried to answer, he really did. But now she was sucking soft marks at his hip and all he could manage was a needy whine. Her teeth were gentle upon his skin, but held a promise of more if he wanted. He did. He wanted her in every way - hard and soft and slow and frantic and- "Relax, Ezra," came her soothing tones. "I've got you, honey."

Honey. Her mouth was honey. Intense and sweet and slowly, oh so slowly-

He let out a moan, a hoarse, ragged thing full of desire and submission to her as she took him into her. Kevva, they were outside. Where anyone could walk by...His cock twitched and he truly didn't know if it was the proposition of being caught, or the delicious drag of her tongue. She hummed in appreciation right back at him, and he swore the vibrations reached all the way through to his spine. Soft, wet heat enveloped him, and he gave a stunted little thrust upward, chasing more sensation, more of her. Her hand squeezed his thigh and her nails raked him a little harder than necessary, making his leg quiver and his cock harden all the more. She pulled off him with a popping sound, planting a sloppy kiss on his tip.

"Greedy," she admonished, nothing but low burning want detectable in her tone.

"Yes," he hissed. "For you. All of you. Vive, my lo-ohhhhh." His words trailed away to another moan as she resumed her attentions, and his eyes snapped open, wanting to witness the beauty of her love. The blue sky he was met with was not the one he had been expecting - a tiny contained square of it within the ceiling, instead of the vast expanse outside. He had been dreaming, he realised. Dreaming of the beach and she had broken into his dreams with something far more wonderful, something-

A deep, rumbling groan was torn from his chest as she slid her mouth over him, covering him near-completely as she nuzzled her nose into the coarse hair at the base of his cock. His vision was slightly blurred through sleep, the rainbow rippling upon his arm catching his attention before he blinked rapidly and looked down to see her bobbing gently upon him, a delicate dance of wanting to take him all, but not trigger her gag reflex. He wanted to move so badly, wanted to chase down the sensations she was so expertly teasing. Slowly, firmly, she pulled back, her tongue trailing along his underside. When she was halfway her eyes flicked up and met his, her gaze bright and mischievous and loving and Kevva above he suddenly realised how close he was. She knew too - an impish smile gracing her beautiful lips before they wrapped around him again, one hand now pumping where her mouth had been, the other raking another path down his thigh. The sting added to his pleasure, hurtling it ever closer to completion. She always knew what he needed - whether it be softness or dominance or toys or teasing. They were in tune so often. And when they weren't, it was easily solved. Almost nothing turned him on more than for her to come to him, sit on his lap, whisper what it was she wanted most.

Right now he was still half asleep, his mind and body fuzzy with dreams and warmth. The heat that was slowly creeping through his veins now was of a different sort, replacing what had gone before with wakefulness and desire. Her nails served to bring that heat into focus more sharply - added a tinge of mild pain to proceedings and made his mind that much more alert so that when she ran a single finger downward, he didn't even need her to breach him fully before he was coming, head pressed back into the pillow and gasping for air as she swallowed all he had to give with a sighing purr of contentment. His hand skated over the sheets underneath him to come and cradle her jaw, his thumb running over her cheek as he looked lovingly down at her and she kissed over his cock again before nuzzling into his touch.

"Good morning," she smiled as she snaked up his body, coming to rest against his bicep and tracing over his nose with a delicate finger. He stretched his neck and kissed her palm, drawing her closer against his body with his arm, his hand stroking the soft skin at her hip and waist and belly.

"Good morning, you most divine of beings," he murmured in reply. "And what benevolence did I enact to be deserving of such a gorgeous wake up call?"

She grinned and half buried it against his chest, snuggling closer to him by placing her thigh over his and taking care not to trap his still erect cock under it. "Who says it was anything you did? Maybe I just want something in return," she teased.

He echoed her grin and placed a kiss to her forehead, his eyes darkening with desire as she batted her lashes coquettishly. "I know that look," he ventured before dropping his voice lower and whispering to her, his hand now wandering upward to cup her breast. "That look means you want me to lose myself. To take you like it was our last night under this sky together. I believe the word you used was...feral." On that last word he pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, perhaps more roughly than he would have ordinarily. The effect was true - her hips canted forward, seeking friction that was not yet there, and her hand came to press firmly against his chest as her lips crashed into his. He demanded she open herself and she did so willingly, the taste of him on her tongue awaking a raging fire in his veins.

Without another word he sat up, moved so he was kneeling. She leant back on her elbows to observe him, and the hunger in her eyes as her gaze raked his body was a balm to his soul - another piece of happiness and love that she bestowed and that added to the restoration of his confidence of self day by day. She gave a devilish smile as she allowed her legs to fall open, courting - no, actively encouraging - his most lustful thoughts. A raised eyebrow and a very specific look from him was all it took - she turned over, got on her knees and dropped down on to her elbows to present herself fully. He shivered at the sight of her, flesh goosepimpling at the thought of what was to come. She was so beautiful. So wet and inviting and-

He couldn't help himself, he shuffled up closer behind and pushed two of his fingers into her - strong and slow and deep. He usually opened her up with just one to begin with, but she wanted him to be a little rough with her today, wanted her own bite to her pleasure. The gasp he provoked brought forth a twitch of a smile to one side of his lips and he pumped into her at a steady pace, reaching deep within to find that spot that made her weak, made her thighs tremble and her head hang low between her shoulders. Bending over her back, he planted sweet, slightly sloppy kisses along her spine. What he was doing wasn't quite enough for her just yet, he knew that. But he loved having her like this, open and ready and all for him. She pushed back against his hand and he immediately straightened and withdrew, eliciting a whine from her.

"Ah, ah. You know the rules," he lectured before giving her thigh a slap. "Do you want me like this, or not?" he added, the question both a challenge to her playful side and seeking consent.

She nodded and looked at him over her shoulder. "You know I do," her voice was throaty and full and his cock was bobbing thick and heavy between his thighs, wet at the tip again, dripping with his own lubrication at the thought of sliding into her and fucking her mercilessly. Not yet...he wanted to make this last.

"Then you must behave," he commanded her, slapping her cheeks this time before breaching her with his fingers again, still at that maddeningly deliberate pace. She whined at the slap, groaned at the feeling of his fingers, became wetter around him. Her muscles rippled as she clenched, trying to force her body to tip over the edge. He knew that if he positioned his hand so he could rub her with his thumb, she would come within seconds. But he didn't want that and he knew she didn't either. They often indulged each other this way - teasing, pushing, stretching to their limits before they were begging for completion.

He began the slow build within, concentrating on how the electrical impulses crackling down his spine were coalescing to a simmering heat within his pelvis, how the undulations he could feel within his muscles and around his marks on his back travelled downward to push through the colours on his arms. He was still fascinated by them, as was she. In the time they had been together they had gone from strength to strength and he had often been complimented on his "tattoos" when he had been out. They were permanently colourful now, every hue gorgeously and vibrantly represented. And when he touched her, that was when they came truly alive - a shimmering, sparkling opalescence added to them as they glowed - the blazing sun through a stained glass window, the prismatic glory of a jewel butterfly's wings. Now as he focused, a vein of pure silver made its way gently through them. She could tell what he was doing, could feel the sensation building within him translating over to her.

"Fuck, yes. Yes, Ezra," she whispered, her voice hitching in her throat. He moved a little faster, touching her deeply, pressing upon those spots that she told him made her see stars. He loved making her come like this. Well, he loved making her come in every way he could, but when she had told him that it was a new sensation for her he had felt a pride that had a glow of possessiveness about it. This is something only I can do for her. The heat travelled through his wrist and hands and she cried his name aloud as it buzzed softly through his fingers and into her. She gushed around him, her arousal sliding over his hand and dripping down through her seam and over the coarse curls there to begin pooling on the sheets. He quickened his pace, and now he did twist his hand, turning it so he could glide his thumb over that part of her that had been so unfamiliar and now he knew so well. The noises she was making were heavenly to his ears - full, throaty moans, half gasps of his name, curses as he wrung another orgasm from her.

Her legs were trembling and a thin sheen of sweat coated her back. "Ezra," she groaned thickly as he worked her through her embers, withdrawing his fingers gently and licking them of her wetness.

"My love," he replied, and before she could move from her prone position he was behind her and caging her legs with his own, cock in hand, running the fat head of himself through the delicious mess she had made. She whimpered as he passed it over her clit, but her hips were gently bucking - an invitation for him to take her, to be inside of her. An invitation he had never yet refused. Her hands scrabbled at the pillow as he slowly pushed himself inside, and for a moment he forgot everything else in the world. There was only her, clutching so tightly around him - her slick heat encasing him, accepting him entirely. He didn't stop until he was sheathed to the hilt, as close to her as he could possibly be, and then he bent over her back, kissing over her shoulders, her neck. "I love you so much," he murmured.

"I...I love you too," she gasped out, her words staccato-ed as she adjusted to his girth. He began to move. Slowly, patiently, deliberately - wanting it to last forever but knowing that his end was speeding ever closer. Kevva, how was she so perfect? Everything she did, everything she was...all for him, all aligned to drive him wild in the most wonderful way. The noises she made, her smell, the taste of her skin - it all came together to heighten every pleasurable feeling. He straightened, ran his hand down her back, gripped her waist and snapped his hips more forcefully into her, making her writhe and groan beneath him. The slow burn of taut pleasure skittered along his spine and he knew that he had to be almost fully illuminated already. She was tensing again, around his cock pounding into her, sending her spiralling into bliss. He observed how one hand left the pillow to glide downward and he hadn't thought he could be more turned on but the thought of her playing with herself was doing just that. Her moans grew louder, the erotically obscene slick noise of their coupling too, and he knew exactly what she needed. He sucked on his little finger and very delicately brought it to the other hole she was presenting him with, softly pushing inside the strong ring of muscle, keeping time with his thrusts. She squeezed around him mercilessly and cursed loudly as she came, turning her head to the side and sobbing her pleasure so he could hear it all through the shuddering aftershocks of her body.

Having her so entirely at his mercy, being the origin of her ecstasy awoke something within him. Something which they both actively welcomed, even needed on occasion. He withdrew his hand and roughly hauled her up so her back was flush against his chest, his arm across her stomach and holding her to him. "Fuck, I want to see. I need-" His voice trailed away as he bit down softly over her shoulder and fucked up roughly into her. This was a new thing, a delight only discovered in the past few weeks and he couldn't get enough of it. His eyes were glued to the space above where her breasts bounced with every jab. Her skin dewy with sweat and darkened with the rush of blood from her orgasms was revealing another secret. Paler filaments slowly twined their way across, a reflection of the sinuous, twisting pattern of markings upon his arm, and his own legs trembled beneath him at the sight. So joined, so together, so loving, so eternal. The desperate sound that left his lips as he filled her came directly from his heart and he held her tight to him as he continued to gently thrust inside of her, never wanting to let go, never wanting the moment to end.

Her head rolled back to rest upon his shoulder and she looked with utter devotion into his eyes as she stroked over the scruff at his jaw. "Never let me go, Ezra," she murmured, echoing his own thoughts back to him as she so often did.

"Never, my love," he promised as he nuzzled against her fingers. "Never."

They lay there for a while, naked and basking in the company of the other and the golden afterglow of their joy - him with his arm around her and stroking her back softly, she nestled in the space between his shoulder and chest, her favourite place in the world by her own admission. He made some small joke and it got her - made her laugh far more than was warranted and in that moment where he observed the hundredth, the thousandth occurrence of how her eyes crinkled small and her smile grew wide he knew it was time. Kevva above but he loved her. Deeply and dearly and he wanted to make her his forever. They knew, they both knew they could never be with any other. But he had been researching their traditions of union - the legalities, the celebrations. They seemed fairly straightforward and he wanted to ask her if they could be joined, bound by the customs of her people. He had a plan. Nothing fancy but something he felt she would appreciate.

"Come on," he urged. "Let's take Dog down to the beach for a last walk." She smiled, nodded and he saw the many days of his future stretch into blissful domesticity with her. He couldn't help but return her grin.

Dog ran ahead as he always did, his joyful little barks as he was let loose upon the sand almost lost in the strength of the breeze coming from the ocean. The sun was setting, one side of the sky still aflame with apricot and cerise and gold, the other fading into deepest blues and darkest purples. She loved it here - here at this time and this place. She loved to watch the ocean cycle from turquoise to lilac as the light changed, watch the birds chase the fading day across the sky, see the first intrepid bats flit from their roosts and begin their hunting, and he never tired of watching her take her quiet and unceasing joy from her surroundings. He sat on their preferred rock, which was reasonably flat and handily positioned for optimum viewing of the giant expanse of sky and sea, and he motioned for her to sit between his legs. Instead she stood facing him, her eyes revealing that her love was very much as profound for him as it was for the scene around them. She smiled down at him and ran her hands through his hair, causing him to close his eyes and hum in pleasure at her touch.

"I'm still confused about what happened here," she remarked as she twisted his curls around her fingers. "I love it though." He himself wasn't sure. He guessed that the stress of his fragile form travelling through the phenomenon that had brought him to this place had prompted changes to his body, the most obvious of which had occurred when his hair turned shockingly white. But perhaps even more bizarrely it had since grown out, his dark roots beginning to reappear one day a few months later. Except for one patch - a small part at his hairline on the right hand side. She bent down and he smiled, anticipating her kiss. But it never came. He opened his eyes to see her own gaze fixed with curious wonder at his brow.

"What bothers you my love?" he queried.

"I just had a thought," she began, before leaning forward to plant the awaited kiss at his white patch of hair. "That first day I found you, when you lay down to sleep on the sofa. I kissed you then. For the first time. I tried to kiss your forehead but you moved in your sleep and I kissed right here." She kissed him again, at the exact same spot. "Maybe that's why it stayed that colour."

"Maybe so," he agreed. "Who can tell these things? Such wonders are wrought between us every day, dearest one. Such mysteries exist between us and-" Ezra took a deep breath and steeled himself. "I wish to explore these very mysteries with you by my side. Eternally." He stood and reached into his pocket, and pulled from it the okralt kooka cat ring that he had kept - the one part of his history that he had never quite been able to part with and that had successfully bridged the gap between that world and this. He hadn't known why he had felt that way about this particular piece, why he had wanted to keep it safe. It was beautiful, yes, and somewhat valuable, at least where he came from. But as he brought it into the light and watched the elation dawn upon her face he believed it was for this time, this place. Somehow this very moment had called to him throughout everything, drawing him along the path of pain and loss to her, so he could experience joy again, more deeply than he ever had before. He slipped it on to her finger and it fit as if it had been made especially for her. She looked up at him, the fiercest love brimming in her eyes. "You know why I call you Vive," he said, a statement rather than a question but she nodded anyway. "You know it means "life" in my tongue and that is what you are. My life. My whole life. But it has nuances. It means life, yes. But it also means life giving. And life eternal. And resurrection. You are all of these to me and more. And I can think of no greater life than being with you forever."

She reached for him and pulled his face down to meet hers, murmuring her joyful assent again and again between kisses, the golden heat of the setting sun warming their skin as their devotion warmed their hearts.

*** *** ***

He awoke with a jolt in the night, his brain trying to make sense of his now-familiar surroundings. Something. Something had woken him. Was it her? Was it Dog? Were they okay? He sat up to check, noting with sleepy relief that she was still next to him, that Dog was quietly observing him from his bed in the corner.

"Mmmm, wasswrong?" she mumbled sleepily.

"Nothing my love," he replied softly. "I just woke and-"

This time the noise reached her as well, and she sat up next to him and looked at him in puzzlement. "Was that-?"

"It sounded like it," he confirmed. "Now where on Kevva's moonlit mountains did we put the damn thing?"

The translator had done its job admirably. Her suspicion that his language shared some roots with French had been validated, and once it had been completely uploaded to its database communication became much easier. After French, they had uploaded German and then Latin, and the Aegish basics that his aural translator had originally latched on to began to expand, to find paths back to the languages she was more familiar with, even if she didn't speak them. It was slightly baffling, but he reasoned that since their basic physiognomy was the same, perhaps their languages had evolved along similar paths too - after all there were only so many movements their tongues or larynxes could make. With a combination of coaching and the help of his aural translator, Ezra learned English at a rate she had called "remarkable". The various "rewards" for progression that she had teased him with had also definitely helped spur him on. As he became more proficient, they found that they needed the screen less and less and eventually he co-opted it into the project he had spoken to her about before - a new kind of communication device.

"I have not the faintest notion if Cee received my message, nor if she could find a way to respond even if she had," he had said. "But I will attempt to rig something that could possibly be receptive to that kind of long distance communique." He had grinned then, kissed her nose. "Thank you for indulging me in this, my love. I know it may seem an exercise in futility but...well..." He hadn't needed to finish, he could tell that she understood. The possibility of never receiving a message from Cee was far better than not having the ability to receive it at all. She assisted him with tools and parts, and he taught her what little he knew of electronics, though they seemed quite different to what she was accustomed to.

Weeks turned into months turned into a year and still nothing. Not a peep. He had stopped checking it frequently by this point, only when fleeting memories of his past stumbled through his mind did he think to seek it. But now...now it was beeping. A low, quiet sound presenting itself every thirty seconds or so. He jumped out of bed and followed the noise, though he should have just trusted Dog, who was standing beside the door of a particular wardrobe and looking upward. The noise was emanating from the top cupboard, and after he had felt around behind a box and a few piled books and trinkets he pulled it out with a flourish. He got back into bed and Dog followed too, settling himself between them and sighing with contentment when she absentmindedly stroked his ears.

If he had any doubts that a message had been received, the glowing red light that pulsated in time to the beeps dispelled them. He looked down at it, suddenly uncertain about what to do for the best.

"Hey," she called, and he drew his attention to her. "You don't have to look at it if you don't want to," she reminded him softly. "Whatever that message says won't change anything here - for good or bad. Whatever she says you can't help her, you can't fix it if there's something wrong. But you might also get closure. If that's what you want."

"I'm...not entirely sure what I want," Ezra confessed. "I have you. I have Dog. I have this life, this beautiful second chance that was gifted to me and all I could ever need or want is here. Would it not seem...ungrateful? Or ungracious? To delve back into my past now? When we are beginning to form our future together?"

"I don't think so," she replied. "Wanting to know what happened is not rejecting what you have now. You didn't leave that place of your own free will. Of course there will be some unanswered questions. If you get the chance to have them answered, then why not? At the very least, you will know Cee is safe." She shuffled closer, wrapped her arms around him and rested her cheek on his shoulder. "You won't lose this, us, here whatever you decide. I hope you know that." The ring he had gifted her gleamed under the light of the half moon peeking through the window above them, and seeing it visible on her finger, feeling her arms around him made him feel stronger.

He turned and kissed her forehead. "My life. My love. Thank you."

She nodded. "Do you want to be alone for this?"

He shook his head immediately. "Please stay. I will happily translate afterward if you want to know what was said. No secrets between us, you know that." She smiled softly and held him a little tighter as he fiddled with the controls. A short time later, a voice came from the device - strong and knowing and young sounding, yet weary. Ezra gave his own soft smile as the sound of Cee filled the room.

"Your greatest escapade yet, Ezra? They all think you're dead you know. I did too until I got your message, short though it was.

There was a very pregnant pause, then it was as if a dam burst and the words torrented from her.

How in Kevva's name could you leave me with THEM, Ezra? Oh I heard the words from your sentencing, I know you think you did it all for me. So I could have a better life, a chance. You stupid-" And here Ezra heard the gulp of tears behind her fury and it near broke his heart. "...you stupid, stupid man. I wanted to stay with you because you made me safe. I could be myself with you, without fear of judgement or ridicule or blowback. And you forcibly took me against my will and DROPPED me into that world that you yourself fought so hard to escape from. Hypocrite! Deceiver! I...I-"

Her words trailed off into snuffling but when she spoke again her voice was more contained, a little more cold. "I loved you Ezra. Strange as our path together was, I loved you like a father and a brother and all the family I never knew. Ironic, really." Ezra's brows knitted into a frown at her words. "And I suppose you're sitting there all pouting and puzzled about what that could possibly mean. I've started to think that somehow, on some level you did know and that's why you did it." Cee sighed, and Ezra could almost see her steeling herself for her next words. "Your phony story about me being your bastard daughter didn't fly too far. Especially when I kept insisting I already had a deadbeat dad that you yourself had so kindly rid me of. I insisted your parents test my genetics to prove it. They refused. Too concerned about their lineage, although by this time the inheritance that came with the titles and the house seemed to be shrinking by the day, all of it transferred into the pockets of that uncle of yours. I scraped through that finishing school they sent me to. Barely. And I want you to know that I did it for you, not them. So I could...well so your supposed death wasn't entirely frivolous. So I could take what I was able to and run. Just like we always did."

Ezra heard the smile and its sincerity shine through the last sentence and he couldn't help but grin in return, memories of their heists and tricks and capers whirling through him at the sound of her voice after so long. "But after I came home that summer and then I came of age, I had myself tested. A hair from your mother's brush, a clipping from your father's moustache and my own sample and what grotesque joke was revealed? That somehow, albeit across a vast distance, we are indeed related." Ezra's mouth fell open at the news and he racked his brains for the how and the why. His family tree had been held up as a shining example of purity and maintaining standards. How, and more importantly, who might have been responsible for Damon and Cee being a distant offshoot? Thr child had never known her mother...perhaps the truth lay with her, he mused.

Ezra came back to himself as he realised the recording had stopped. He blinked rapidly and looked down at her next to him, still holding him tight.

"Are you okay?" she asked, simply. The words took a while to drip down into his mind and be understood, given that he had been so immersed in his own language for the first time in a very long time, but when they did he nodded at her.

"She blames me for leaving her," he replied. "I did not expect otherwise. But...let me finish. Then I shall share it all with you." She nodded and pressed the pause button again, causing Cee's voice to fill the home that was so very far away from her life once more.

"So...I had a legitimate claim to what was rightfully yours after all. Barely. It was enough for them, though. Wills and deeds and all sorts of fastidious and tedious legal papers were brought to me. Sadly, the education they had paid for had taught me that I should read everything thoroughly. And so I did. And everything they wanted to give to me was of course dependent upon me marrying some dour old dustbag and being pregnant for as long as my body could stand it. So I put what I learned into practice. What I learned from you, that is. I took them for all I could and I ran away. I ran as fast and as far as I was able and I did not look back. I began to live, to truly live and love and believe in things again. I found a group. They took me in and they nurtured me in a way that only you had ever done before. And they let me in on their secrets...the whispers around the fire at night. That's how I found my way to it - the insurrection. The first wave had done surface damage but had been smashed by fists of authority and those with the wealth to bribe people away from their morals. But it lingered on...the tension of it, the undercurrents. The thoughts and the feelings and the sense of righteous anger at the injustices that we all saw and yet passed by. I joined with them, gave what I could monetarily and with what skills and knowledge I possess. And that's when I found out...you're a hero, Ezra. A martyr to this cause. Not the first, certainly not the last. But the most famous. The figurehead, if you will."

Ezra could feel his mouth hanging open in shock but could not even find it in himself to try to close it. The uprising had survived? Continued? He gave a delighted and triumphant "Ha!" at the revelation, and Dog, who had just been falling back to sleep on the bed, gave a jump and looked up at him with a wounded expression. Ezra soothed him with pats and soft hushings and apologies.

"The story of the higher born who wanted to do better for everybody's benefit and died so that his daughter might live," Cee's voice continued. "You have to admit, it does make a good legend. No matter that its only partly true, its what everybody believes now. Rien saw to that." Ezra made a noise like he had been punched in the gut and tears sprang to his eyes. He didn't even realise he had leapt from the bed and covered his face with his hands until he heard Dog's indignant barking, followed swiftly by her shushing him. Rien. But his uncle had said...his uncle...His uncle the liar he realised. The only time his uncle had ever told him the truth was when it was to his own benefit, or when he could use it to wound Ezra. Of course he would want him to think that Rien had come to harm - to help break Ezra's spirit completely. After all, if the only person who had ever loved him for who he was was gone, what would be the good in fighting for anything any longer?

When he looked down again he saw she was stroking over Dog's ears, but with a slightly frantic edge to the movements. "What's wrong?" she asked urgently. "I heard...I mean I thought I heard-"

"Rien," he nodded. "Its...well I don't know. I need to play it back a little."

He fiddled with the device as she brought Dog on to her lap and cooed soft words to him. "It's okay Ben. He just got a little excited. Its okay. We're all okay. You go to sleep. Good boy. Good boy." Dog shot Ezra as close to a baleful glance as he had ever seen, and then curled up as instructed, sighing heavily as he did so. He was getting old. And a little grumpy with it, though in this incidence Ezra absolutely could not blame him. He patted his head too before starting up the recording again.

"-partly true, its what everybody believes now. Rien saw to that. I met him a few years back during a campaign. He's the top guy now, leader of...well, pretty much everything. I heard him talking about what had happened to you at your sentencing at a rally. He was really inflating the story, making it seem like your life was forfeit as a direct consequence of the initial rebellion. I managed to corner him at the end and ask him if he believed what he was saying. And that's how we got to talking about you. He um...he never forgave himself you know. For walking out like that. He didn't tell me that he wanted you to know that, but I think he wanted you to know that. I played him the message I received from you and he cried a little, though he denied it afterward. I think he's just thankful that you're alive. He would have recorded something for you himself, but he's away at the moment. Organising some big push. We're so close. So nearly there. I think that you always understood that anything that was able to be shaken so mightily by the gentlest of breezes could be nothing other than weak at its foundations. Those gentle breezes that you and Rien fanned have grown into something so much more...I don't want to be more specific in case this gets intercepted. Though I don't even know if this will ever reach you. Or if you'll still be alive when it does....it's already been so long since I've seen you. I can't believe you've been gone for..." Cee's voice trailed off, but when it returned it was full of strength and confidence again. "It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter how long you've been gone. You live on here Ezra, and you are doing such incredible work. Even if we do have to bend the truth a little. And when did we ever not?!" She laughed, and it was a lovely, warming thing to fill the room. "I miss you, my friend," she said, quietly. "I hope you have found your happiness. Whatever that place is that you washed up. I hope to hear from you again someday. And I'll always remember you as my brother, my protector, my family. Goodbye, birdie. Fly free."

No matter how much Ezra brushed the tears from his cheeks, more fell until he let them, let them sink into the bedclothes and then into her hair and skin as she held him close. "I've got you, my love. I've got you." Ezra felt the relief and love and gratitude flow from him as he let go and allowed himself to break.

*** *** ***

"What are you thinking?"

"Mmmm?" she asked, her voice thick and hazy with post orgasmic sleepiness. " 'm not really thinking anything. You've successfully driven pretty much every thought out of my mind! Except...I love it when you're on top and I can see your beautiful patterns on my ceiling. I don't know how or why, but it adds something to the experience.

He smiled and nuzzled closer on her chest, delighting in how the coolness of his breath continued to pebble the nipple furthest from him, and reveling in the sensation of her burying her nose into his hair and breathing him in. "I love how your own marks are coming along," he confessed. "You are the person most close to me in all the universe. In every conceivable way. And yet, I too feel that seeing a reflection of me upon you adds a something as you say."

"Maybe we'll always have a new something to discover," she ventured, mumbling the words against his head.

"If anyone can find a new joy everyday, its we two," he replied, running his hand softly over the hair at her mound. She squirmed a little at his tickling and giggled softly.

Then - "Up," she commanded, patting him gently on the bicep. "I have to go to the loo."

"...just got comfy," he grumbled as he moved gracefully out of her way and settled into the blankets more closely.

"Now you know how Ben feels when you disturb his naps," she rejoined with a smile as she disappeared into the bathroom. Ezra smiled to himself as he lay face down on the bed, head half buried in the soft pillow. A few years ago he never would have thought it possible. Soft bedding under him. A full stomach every day. Love. A life. A home. His true mate. He didn't know what he had done to be quite so blessed, but he was grateful every single day. He needed nothing more, wanted nothing more, and the feeling of utter contentment was as addictive as it was alien. But he trusted the feeling, unknown as it was. He trusted it because he trusted her. More than anything he had ever known before, he trusted her. He inhaled deeply, taking the scent of her hair into his lungs and holding his breath around it, holding it close to his heart.

"Ezra?" Her voice snapped him out of the half-doze he had been in. She sounded...odd. As if she were both fearful and tentatively excited. He was instantly alert, sitting up and stretching his hand out to her where she stood in the door of the bathroom.

"What is it, my most precious gem?" he murmured, and as she came to stand before him and he locked his arm around the small of her back he noticed that she had something in her hand. It looked a little like...but no. Surely, it couldn't be. She gave him the stick of plastic and he stared down at it, comprehension there but not quite attainable in the face of his shock. Her hand came to cradle the scruff at his jaw and she gently forced his head up to look at her, where he was met with her eyes of deepest devotion, unyielding love.

"Ezra," she said again, and this time he heard his future in her tone, stretching away into an everlasting path of jubilation and joy.

#ezra starman #ezra soulmate au #ezra x ofc #ezra prospect x ofc #ezra prospect fluff #ezra prospect angst #ezra prospecy smut #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect fanfic

[mishasminion360]

Safe In My Arms

Ezra x fem!reader

Warnings: Language; light angst; feelings of insecurity; body dysmorphia; brief allusions to smut; hurt/comfort; fluff.

Summary: Ezra harbors a secret hatred for his absent arm, but his feelings come to a head when his newly acquired handicap fails to do the one task he vowed never to fail in: keep you safe from harm.

A/N: I’m back (but not necessarily better than ever). Sorry I’ve been MIA, folks. Between work and the stresses of daily life burnout hit hard and kicked all my creativity to the curb. But the summer has brought some much needed quiet and a little bit of recovery time, so I am slowly getting my groove back. I’ve got tons of new ideas, so let’s see how many I can get through before life gets in the way yet again 😊

A clean but savage scar. Puckered and pale flesh. A ghostly pain that haunts the vestiges of his dominant upper extremity; a banshee’s sorrowful wail that echoes throughout what remains of his blood and marrow.

He both admires and loathes the ruins of his appendage. Like the crumbling facades of lost civilizations and landmarks it is the brittle leftovers of something once great. At the time his right arm had seemed a necessary and middling sacrifice compared to his life, but away from the immediate threats of the toxic moon it’s become a piteous sight.

Ezra’s hands were his livelihood; his greatest strength. Without one where does that leave the other? In the quietest parts of his mind the darkest thoughts linger. Notions of weakness, inadequacy, and incompetency. He can no longer dig, he can no longer write, he can no longer please you with his touch.

Ah, you. You. You fault him nothing. You do not mourn his loss nor the resulting shortcomings. You do not look upon him with disdain or condolence. The initial sight of his drastically altered form prompted immediate shock, but the emotion fled your features as quickly as it had occupied them.

“Most of you came back to me. All the best parts of you returned,” you’d assured him. “You’re alive, you’re home, and that’s what matters.”

If you’re content then he will find a way to be as well. This new normal will take time; surely he will learn to adjust. Until then he will smile when he catches you looking. He will lie until it becomes truth.

***

Ezra is an artist in many ways. Any time he opens his mouth he paints you a picture with his words. He weaves sentences into daily conversation composed of words that most would never even think to utter, let alone heard of. He is a poet without even trying.

But he is a shitty actor.

You don’t miss the self-deprecating looks that ghost across his visage; the disgruntled mutterings of inwardly directed criticisms far below the standards of his lexicon. He hates what he’s become, though he hasn’t changed a bit. Not truly. An arm is nothing compared to a heart, to a soul.

He won’t let you see him cursing himself, so you don’t let him see that you’ve seen. When and if he’s ready to talk then you’ll be ready to listen. And until that moment comes you will carry on doing what you do best: loving him.

And nothing says “love” like baked goods.

You’d hypnotized him with your sweets when you’d first met; lured him to love like a witch with a house made of candy.

You’d just managed to fatten him up a little before he’d left for his excursion on the Green Moon. He’d lost that healthy weight and then some living off of rations and Kevva knows what else after being marooned. You had both been so dizzied by the overwhelming cocktail of surprise, relief, and bliss that had come with his sudden return that you hadn’t had a chance to celebrate him properly. Well, better late than never.

***

He pads into the kitchen just in time to see you pushing one of the rickety chairs from the dining table up to the cupboards and mounting it with a soft grunt of mild exertion. His heart seizes when the wood creaks.

“And just what are you doing up there, my supernova?”

Without granting him your full attention you respond. “I’m going to bake you a cake.”

“That is quite a precarious position in which one would craft a culinary delight, is it not?”

“I have to gather the ingredients first, wise guy.”

You lift yourself onto the tips of your toes and the chair wobbles to and fro.

“Nova, let me assist you,” he insists hastily. “Whatever you require from above I shall retrieve.”

“Nonsense,” you scoff. “I managed just fine while you were gone and I’ll manage now.”

He’s glad, for only a second, that your back is to him. You won’t see how deeply those words had cut him. But the effects of the unintentional slight are fleeting; any and all offense is cast aside when your toes curl over the edge of the chair and the motion proves to be disastrous.

The wobbling of the chair’s four unsteady legs reverberates up into your own extremities. The bag of flour you’d sought only now in hand, your body pitches to the right, and you have only a second to exhale a startled gasp before you are stumbling over the edge of the seat.

Ezra dives for you, hellbent on breaking your fall. His body sails toward yours as if pulled by a gravitational force. He reaches for you. He reaches for you with an arm that does not exist.

You drop through the space where there should have been a solid barricade of flesh and bone and strike the linoleum with a muffled thud. Your head bounces off the floor synchronously with the doomed bag of flour, which splits upon impact and showers the room in a white haze. Your cranium, by the grace of Kevva, remains intact.

“Ooooouch.” Somewhere in the middle your groan evolves into a laugh. “Well, now I feel stupid.”

And he feels….

“Supernova….are you alright?” First his upper extremities prove useless, now his lower ones are failing him as well. His legs nearly buckle as he kneels at your side to assess you for injury.

“I’ll survive,” you assure him. “The only thing wounded is my pride.”

He helps you up to the best of his ability before striding with purpose to the utility closet to fetch a broom. Wordlessly, he gets to work cleaning up the sea of loose powder flooding the kitchen floor. The silence that fills the room is as awkward as his movements. He’s struggling with the simple task that much is obvious, but he seems determined. The veins in the graceful slope of his neck pulse with effort.

“Ezra, let me—“

“I’ve got it, nova.”

“I made this mess with my foolishness, so I’ll clean it.”

“You just took a serious tumble, love. I can weather a simple snowstorm.”

“Ez, I don’t mind. Why don’t you—?”

“Dammit all! Don’t placate me like I’m some kind of invalid,” he shouts. He never raises his voice, speaks in harsh tones, or uses course language. Such things are beneath his beautifully woven vocabulary. “I may not be able to do much these days but I can manage a simple sweeping!”

You remain stoic in the wake of his outburst; any kind word you could dare to breathe may be horribly misconstrued. Instead you watch impassively has he continues his fumbling efforts, the mess never lessening, until finally he hurls the broom to the floor, the wooden handle colliding with a thunderclap.

He pounds his fist upon the countertop as his body vibrates with an anger you’ve never seen. Your lungs surrender the air they’d been harboring only when he at last sags under the weight of a heavy sigh.

“Forgive me, supernova. I did not mean to address you so barbarously.” Ezra’s voice rattles inside of his chest like a songbird dashing itself against the bars of its gilded cage.

“I know,” you answer gently.

“I just find myself….confounded by this new and unwanted deformity. I feel….beyond inadequate. I can no longer work efficiently to provide for us. I can not complete the most meager of household tasks.”

That delicate sparrow trembles within the clutch of his ribs. He’s white knuckling the edge of the sink.

“I can not protect you in this fragile and ruined state. I can not….I can not even hold you properly.”

You don’t need words to tell him just how wrong he is. With a commanding but gentle hand upon his shoulder you turn him to face you, taking his solitary arm and wrapping it snugly around your waist before melting into the wall of his chest.

“This works pretty well.”

You feel the huff of his breath against your hair as his chin meets the crook of your neck. His lips brush a bump on the back of your head that you hadn’t even realized was there until his kiss bruises the flesh.

“You would still have me this way, Nova?”

“Ezra, you are more than a pair of arms or legs or a body. All the most important parts of you came back to me.”

You press a kiss to his sternum, relishing the the quickening thump of one of those “most important parts” as it buzzes through your lips, each beat a gentle reminder that he is alive and home.

“So long as your beautiful spirit remains unchanged and unmarred, then you’ve lost nothing you can’t truly be without. The rest is just a bonus.”

A one-armed embrace proves more than enough. Ezra holds you just as close as he’d ever managed with two. Closer yet. He cradles you with more than just extremities.

“You are the only thing I can not bear to lose, nova. The one truly precious thing.”

“And you will never lose me,” you vow. “So long as you never lose yourself, you’ll never lose me.”

“I think, my love,” he whispers, “you got that backwards.”

@grimeylady @rav3n-pascal22 @mamacitapascal @insomniamama1 @pedrosbisch @emmaispunk @lv7867 @reonlouw @hawaiianmelodies @pascalsky @pascalpanic @heythere-mel @healingstardust @delorena @pedropasxal @caesaryoulater @fangirling-alert @fromthedeskoftheraven @axshadows @dragon-scales88 @spacepastel-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @pbeatriz-blog @hauntedmama @mswarriorbabe80 @horton-hears-a-honk @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage @a-trial-run-on-paper @oonajaeadira @foli-vora @dhadiirah @felicisimor @practicalghost @luz-introvertida @amneris21 @hb8301 @tanzthompson @littlemisspascal @dobbyjen @supernaturalgirl20 @alexxavicry @harriedandharassed @trickstersp8 @neganwifey25-blog @twistedboxy @emiemiemiii @energeticspookyshark @thevoiceinyourheadx @pedr0swh0r3 @anamiad00msday

#pedro pascal #ezra #prospect #angst #ezra and reader

[xdaddysprincessxx]

False God

Ezra x f reader

Warnings: p in v, religious tones, angst, infidelity, he’s a cheater, honestly OOC Ezra (he would never do this, my opinion tho) not beta’d, very lightly edited, all mistakes are mine.

A/n: this is my Taylor Swift drabble for @beskarandblasters challenge! She gave me False God x Ezra. It’s honestly crazy how much I needed this song given my current life and how much I could relate to it lol. I interpreted the song as being in love with someone who doesn’t fully choose you. But you keep going back just to feel loved.

WC: 1719

Loving Ezra was like breathing. It didn’t take long for him to get you into bed after you had first met. His sweet words and beautiful eyes had turned you into putty in the blink of an eye. He never really had to work hard to convince you to take his hand as he lead you back to his place.

His lips on yours, tongues exploring each others mouth, the taste of beer and Marlboro reds forever imprinted on your taste buds. His hands roam all over your body, touching, pinching, filling you up. Once he had you inside his apartment, he took no time in getting you naked, on your back. Didn’t even make it to the bed. Lying on the carpeted floor, Ezra plunged his cock into your wet heat for the first time. His lips on your neck as you both held onto one another as if the other might float away. That night he took you on the floor, on the couch, slowly making your way to his bed before he took you again. The next morning he had you bent over the counter as he took you from behind. He had made a mess of you and you him.

You two had fallen into an easy flow. Soon you were moving in with him, life was fun. It was easy with Ezra. Everything felt natural. Time flew by. From that first night to one month, you blinked and suddenly it had been a year.

That’s when things started to fall apart. One morning you woke up, Ez was still asleep in the bed next to you. His phone buzzed. You reached over to grab it, just to see who was texting him so early.

Her name was Marisol. You’ll never forget her name. Or the messages exchanged.

Your heart dropped into the deep pit in your stomach. Your whole being had gone cold. Shaking with betrayal and anger, you woke him up. Of course he tried to deny it, tried to say it was nothing he was just bored working night shift and she was somebody to talk too.

Eventually you two made up. He made you feel beautiful and wanted. Ezra was your everything, he was all you wanted. You did your best to forgive. You never forgot.

Day after day after day goes by.

Soon it’s been about five months since Marisol.

You found yourself sitting in the car while Ezra ran inside to pick up the takeout you had ordered. His phone sitting on the middle console, face up.

The little screen soon lighting up, a text from your best friend. On his phone.

You knew better than to look. But your gut told you to look. Things had felt weird to you the last time all three of you had hung out.

Now this betrayal broke you. Your best friend. The one person besides Ezra that you told everything too. The one you were gonna ask to be your child’s godmother one day.

He said it was never physical, just texts. Those words cut deeper than any knife. You had left this time, staying at your parents for a couple of weeks. Broken heart and swollen eyes from all the tears. All you wanted was him. You missed him so much. He had become your best friend, your lover, the only one you wanted to spend your life with.

Ezra showed up at your parents house one night with flowers. He begged and pled with you. Convinced you that you were the only one he loved and wanted.

The whole ordeal made your heart clench. As much as you ached, you gave him another chance.

Another year passed. Life had been good, you and Ezra were happy and in love.

Your life was completely intertwined with his. At one point he had used your phone to sign into his email.

Forgetting he had done that, when you got the notification for an email from a Mark, you were confused.

Emails detailing what and how and when. Seeing for yourself that your love was meeting another for oral.

Of course he denied it. Said he never actually met this person.

Emails with this Mark came up two more times over the next couple of years.

At this point you’ve spent six years with him.

He was still the love of your life. Your home. Your comfort. When life got bad, you stayed with him. When your parents told you to leave, you stuck up for him. Even after all the others, you forgave him and tried to work on yourself. Tried to be what he wanted, what he needed. You made yourself sexually available, always saying yes to him so he would be satisfied.

Seven years. Seven whole years. You’ve spent with Ezra. Building a life with him.

Sharing laughs and whispered I love you’s, cooking side by side, having a shoulder to lean on when life gets hard.

The way he strums your body, worshiping you as if your hips were his alter. You, his own goddess, one that he loved and cherished. The love you shared with him became your own personal religion. Your bed became your church. He knew just how to touch you, what to say, knew all the places to kiss to make you melt. Ezra was your whole world. The only name that ever dared to leave your lips, no God to be found. Only Ezra.

The happy, easy days started turning into bad days. It was slow and then suddenly all at once. You aren’t sure what happened or if you said or did something wrong. Ez started acting funny, being more mean and cold hearted toward you. You did your best to brush it off, pretend like it was just your imagination or something. Until you saw the texts. It’s a different person this time. But the words exchanged are the same nonetheless.

The sharp dagger of pain cutting through and piercing your very soul. You knew deep down there was another, again. You also knew this time things were different.

You confronted your love. With tears in your eyes and a soul filled with pain and sadness. You broke things off with Ez.

Unfortunately you couldn’t just move out right away. Having to suck it up and continue to live together. Life was weird. After a couple of months, the two of you were able to sit and really talk about things. It became a little bit easier to breath again. He’s always been your best friend. You missed him, missed having someone to confide in and joke with and enjoy life with.

Things didn’t last long with Ezra and the new person.

One night you had come home after working all day. Frustrated with things, annoyed with people, you needed an outlet. Somewhere to put all the emotions you felt so it didn’t burden your body any longer.

Ezra sensed this. He always knew when you needed to let go.

Standing at the sink in the bathroom, you had dropped your head down as you leaned on the counter. Doing your best to take deep breaths when you heard the door open.

He came in, standing behind you. He brought his hands up to your hips, rubbing circles as he dipped his face in between your shoulder and neck. The tip of his aquiline nose trails up and down the sensitive skin. His breath creating goosebumps that begin to blossom as he gently kisses a spot right below your ear. Letting yourself just feel. No more fighting. No more holding yourself back. This is your Ez. Your love. You let your head roll back, laying on his shoulder as he continues leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck. His big hands engulf your hips, gently pulling you back into him. The feeling of his chest on your back, his hard cock against your ass. A soft whimper tumbles out of your lips.

Letting him take full control, Ezra begins to undress you. His lips kissing every inch of skin as it’s revealed to him. You haven’t even realized he had coaxed you into the bedroom until he gently laid you down on the bed.

You sit up on your arms as you look down at your own God as he sinks to his knees at his alter.

He spreads your legs as he dips forward, his beautiful nose running along your thigh as he makes his way to your cunt.

His lips soon find what they’re looking for. Leaving a soft kiss to your clit, you lay back down as your hands make their way to his hands. Holding hands as he works his tongue around your sensitive spot, working you close to orgasm already.

Oh Ezra

Legs shaking as he takes the sacrament of his God. Your juices quenching his thirst for holy salvation.

He quickly covers your body with his, his lips soon attached to your lips as you taste yourself on him.

Back arching as he parts your holy waters, his cock filling your cunt in the way only he can.

You hold him close to you as he fills you over and over. Each deep stroke bringing you to eternal salvation.

He pulls your hands off his shoulders as he brings them above your head, fingers interlocking with his. Deep kisses in time with each thrust.

Oh Ez Oh oh my -

You chant his name over and over as he brings you higher and higher. No God to be found here, only him. Only Ezra. Your love. Your heart. Your soul.

You know it’s wrong to keep doing this. To keep giving in to him. He’s a drug that’s hard to quit. Ever since then you find yourself giving in to him whenever he wants. You know things are over between the two of you. You know he doesn’t want you in the same way you want him. But you still let him in your temple. You still allow him to take the sacrament freely if only to feel the love you once shared for a little bit. You continue to live, broken and shattered. Feeling whole, even for just a quick moment. You still worship his love even if he was a false God.

A/n: I hope yall enjoyed this, I know how sad this is. To be completely honest, this is literally my story. My last relationship/on going situationship. Um it’s very complicated. But I want everyone reading this to know you are beautiful and deserving of love. You deserve to be picked, to be chosen. To be loved for who you are. If you ever wanna talk to vent or anything, I’m here for you 🩵

#pedro pascal #ezra #ezra prospect #angst #Taylor swift drabble challenge #pedro pascal cinematic universe

[songsformonkeys]

Saying I love you with a letter (Ezra x reader)

Month: May

Word count: ~900

Warnings: ANGST, mcd

Notes: You receive a letter from Ezra.

I don't know exactly what happened here. I was in the grumpiest of moods and needed to write something before the end of June. And I did...technically. Oh well... everyone needs something to be the laziest and worst thing they've written. This is probably mine.

The rest of the Year of Creation stories

@yearofcreation2023

~~~~~~

My dearest,

It's been a month since we parted ways. And I ache with every inch and second of that distance, lover.

I dreamt of you last night and I woke up this morning to the phantom sensation of your arm around my waist. I reached for your hand but ended up grasping at nothing but air. I begged for sleep to take me right back to dreamland, but she is a cruel bed companion, I'm afraid, and once I found myself awake, it was impossible to go back.

I'd like to think it was the real you. In the dream, I mean. That you dreamt of me too last night and that somehow that was enough for us to find each other. Is that foolish of me? Distance makes the heart grow fond, and drives the brain a little crazy, I think.

The moon we're at is beautiful like you wouldn't believe, sweetheart. They call her The Green Moon. A very apt name. She looked like an emerald in the void when our ship approached. She's hiding the largest treasure of Aurelac in the system, and guarding it with a deadly fierceness.

There's this... dust of sorts, some kind of spores, I believe. It's everywhere. Captain showed us pictures on the way over of different gruesome ways it can mess up the human body. I'll spare you the details. But don't you worry, lover, I'm careful, and this trusty suit ain't giving up on me anytime soon.

There are ten of us here, practically living in each other's pockets. And let me tell you that after a long day of harvesting, I'd just about be willing to trade one of my limbs for a reprieve from the unpleasantly potent smell of myself and my crewmates.

The crew is about as interesting as a crew of money-hungry desperate bastards can get. Not sure I trust any of them further than I can throw them. Except for maybe the one that doesn't speak. I dropped my rationed bits bar on the floor the other day, and couldn't eat it out of fear of dust contamination. Now, I was prepared to accept my fate and I even laughed along with the others at my misfortune. This guy, however, he doesn't laugh – not sure he even can – just breaks his own bar in two and hands me half. Says a lot about a man's character, that. Still don't know his name.

The work itself is not so bad. By no means the hardest I've labored. Harvesting Aurelac requires more finesse than brute force, which is a nice change of pace.

Some of the others are unhappy with the cut we're getting of the profits. Mostly the new recruits. I think the pay is decent enough, compared to what gigs such as these usually pay. Or perhaps me and the others who've been around know there's little to gain from complaining. Voice your displeasure enough and you'll soon find yourself overlooked when the next job rolls around. No one claims it's fair but them's the rules, and no one's ever heard of anybody getting rich off of prospecting.

How are things back home? I'm itching to hear some gossip about the new neighbors. Did you end up taking them up on their offer to help with the roof? I do feel bad for leaving you to deal with it all on your own. But you know I couldn't turn this job down. Not with all things considered.

I promise I'll make it up to you a thousand times over as soon as I am back! Not too long now, and I'm counting down the days.

I love you, sweetheart. More than words could possibly convey. Can't wait to be back in your arms again.

Yours forever,

Ezra

~~~~~~

You smooth your fingers lovingly over the familiar handwriting and only just resist the urge to bring the letter up to your face. It wouldn't smell like him anyway. Written a month after he left. Exactly one month after he left. You knew because you too had been counting the days, starting from the morning when he hugged and kissed you goodbye at the hangar.

You smooth your fingers over the paper. It's worn like it's been folded and unfolded countless times along the same creases.

One month after he left.

Three weeks before he was supposed to come back.

Your hands begin to tremble.

The young girl across from you at the table speaks up, voice a bit guarded like she's expecting you to lash out at her. Like perhaps that had been the default reaction of someone before you.

”I found this among his stuff... after...” she tells you. ”He never got a chance to send it, but I found it and I thought you deserved to have it.”

And with that, the last glimmer of hope flickers and dies in your heart, replaced in an instant by the cold hard truth.

Ezra isn't coming home.

#year of creation 2023 #year of saying i love you #ezra x reader #prospect fanfiction #tw: mcd #tw: angst

[fandom-blackhole]

🍷Wine n' Cry💦

Welcome one and all to fandom-blackhole's angst with wine(?) event! You send me an ansty thought, HC, AU, ect. and I may or may not drink wine and expand on the ask while making everyone cry over the angst! (You're also welcome to ask about any angsty stuff I have brewing bc you know I always have angst ready)

Come hang and have fun :))

(Characters for the event listed in the tags!)

#come send me angst this is a threat🔫 #CoD (maybe a little ooc just bc im new to the fandom)-> #ghost x reader #konig x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #Star Wars-> #boba fett x reader #din djarin x reader #paz vizsla x reader #obi wan x reader #any of the clones #Pedro Pascal-> #ezra x reader #ezra (prospect) x reader #agent whiskey x reader #joel miller x reader #(honestly your free to send any character in these fandoms but there is a chance i wont answer for a few characters #these are just the characters thatve been on my mind most lately and will be guaranteed to be answered)

[nerdieforpedro]

You know….i think I managed to write a Valentine’s Day fic….with Ezra 👀 I dunno how I did it, but it happened. Um…I’ll edit it and post it later tonight.

I’m very confused 🫤 I guess I played around with it enough.

#Nerdie update #Nerdie has put a drop in the Ezra bucket #She thinks it reads okay? #again not how she expected this fic to turn out #angst with a happy ending #ezra prospect

[beskarandblasters]

Voyeuristic Tendencies

Din Djarin x F!Reader x Ezra

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist | Ezra Masterlist

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

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

Word count: 4.6k

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

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs

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

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

“He sounds like a scammer,” Din said. 

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

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

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

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

-

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

Whatever, you still want to help him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep.”

This is never going to work. 

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

“I can offer protection,” Ezra says. 

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

“Are you in?” you ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s ridiculous,” Din says. 

“Well, what do you suggest?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Awkward? Strict? Stiff as a board?”

“Set in his ways,” you answer.

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

“Probably. Karga talks a lot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“O-Okay,” you breathe out.

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

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

“Mhm,” you moan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bathrooms,” Ezra affirms.

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

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

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

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

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

“G’night, Din,” Ezra says.

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

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

“Sounds good to me” you giggle.

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

“Hands and knees, gem,” he commands.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

“Get ready to take off,” Din says.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“Sorgan,” he replies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

“Wanna get busy?” he asks suggestively.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About the widow?”

“Yeah… How’d you know?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How so?” you ask.

“The forest,” he says.

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

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

“Kevva?” you ask.

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

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

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

“The Mandalorian is back!”

“He came back for us!”

“Does he have the baby?”

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

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

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

“No Cara this time?” she asks.

Another woman? What the kriff??

“No Cara this time,” he affirms. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Din?”

No reply.

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

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

“How long you been spyin’ on us?”

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

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

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

“For the past few weeks,” Din admits.

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

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

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

“Waiting?” Din asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes…” he admits.

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

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

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

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

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

“So sweet,” Din moans. 

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

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

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

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

“Din, I’m gonna cum,” you moan. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stay with us,” Ezra says.

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

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

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

“Same time tomorrow night?” Ezra asks.

“Sounds good to me,” you say.

“Deal,” Din says.

“Goodnight, team!” Ezra chuckles. 

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

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

Tag list: @suzdin @survivingandenduring @hellfire-state-of-mind @max--phillips @pamasaur @apesarecuul @whxtedreams @criticalarchitecture @katw474 @corazondebeskar @clawdee @elvinaa @yorksgirl @pedrostylez @alltheotps @venturawriter @ezrasversion @wtfc-huh @hiddenbabynyc @stagerightlauren @lokislittle @raisinghellionsblog @rubyfruitjungle @pedroshotwifey @fawnosblog @bqoak @camzzn @dindjarins-big-tiddy-goth-gf @glycerinrivers @for-a-longlongtime @pedrostories

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin fanfiction #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect x reader #ezra x reader #prospect 2018 #ezra prospect #prospect movie #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #star wars fanfiction #din djarin smut #pedrostories #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #ezra x f!reader

[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*

[absurdthirst]

An American in Paris {Ezra x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14k

Warnings: Mentions of war/missing limbs, flirting, innuendo, oral sex(female receiving), body image issues, vaginal sex, loss of virginity, miscommunication, secrets revealed, angst, making up, happing endings

Comments: When you escape your family's expectations by fleeing to Paris, you meet an ex-pat named Ezra who stayed after the war. Touring the city with him, you fall in love until your past catches up to you.

A/N: Post WWII AU - set 10 years after war, mentions of finishing school but no mentions of skin tone or hair texture

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Ezra (Prospect) MasterList ||

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

Paris. The sounds of hammers and grunts of men working mingle with the hustle and bustle of the city. The sight and air of restoration and recovery nearly compete after the devastation of the war. There wasn’t as much as in some of the countryside, where the worst of the fight took place. Still, the scars of brutality of men can be seen on the roads and buildings, much like they can be seen when glancing at Ezra.

Finding comfort in the sounds and lights, he walks down the streets where he had once patrolled with a gun. No longer wearing the uniform of his former country, his now ex-pat status in this country is accepted since he can fluently speak the language. Almost feeling more at home here than he ever had in Tensa Parish, feeling a little morbid about returning to the city that had claimed his youth to the horrors of war, and his arm in battle. Over his shoulder, a bag contains the makings for a lovely, simple meal, and a bottle of wine to take the edge off the phantom pains that plague him from time to time, but it’s been nearly ten years since the war and he has gotten accustomed to dealing with the issues that come from losing his right arm. 

You glance up at the building, suitcase in hand, and sigh as you try to speak to the building owner in French. Your finishing school classes allowed you to speak well enough to get by but the owner doesn’t seem to understand you are his new tenant. A man approaches, a bag slung over his shoulder and the owner’s eyes widen. 

“Ah Ezra!” The man proceeds to rattle off French words faster than you can understand them and the man hums, nodding his head. 

He turns to you and tilts his head, “American?” He asks and you nod, “yes. From Boston. I just got here. I’m renting 302 and he doesn’t understand that I am the new tenant.” You explain and Ezra nods, turning towards the owner to explain who you are and Louis finally goes “ahhh.” 

He opens the door behind him and reaches for your other suitcases, helping you into the building. “Thank you so much. I’m not sure how I can repay you.” You tell Ezra but he shakes his head. 

“My pleasure, chérie.” He says and wishes he could assist with your luggage but he doesn’t have a free hand. You’re guided to 302 and Ezra follows, standing outside 301. “It appears we are to be neighbors.” Ezra says softly as Louis unlocks your front door and sets your suitcases down. 

“Then I must cook you dinner to repay you for your assistance.” You tell him and your eyes drift down to the hanging arm of his jacket, noticing his missing arm. You quickly avert your eyes, focusing on his handsome face.

Ezra notices your glance at his arm, or lack of one, and slides into a self deprecating grin of amusement. “Couldn’t pay my rent, one month.” He jokes. “Louis is a man who takes his pound of flesh.”

You giggle at his joke as Louis shifts to grab your key off of his heavy ring of keys. “I’ll be sure to pay my rent on time to avoid suffering the same fate.” You joke softly, “but I insist on dinner one night.” You tell him, wanting to make sure you know your neighbor in this new life you’re creating for yourself. 

Ezra nods, “very well, chérie. I shall inquire once you’ve settled into your new abode.” Ezra says and you offer him a smile. 

“Merci.” You tell Louis who nods and you step into your new apartment. 

“Another American.” Louis says to Ezra after you’ve shut the front door to 302. “And a pretty one at that. If you don’t go to dinner, then I will.” Louis winks and makes his way downstairs. Ezra chuckles, shaking his head at the sneaky old man. 

****

It’s been a few days since you arrived in Paris and you’ve spent that time organizing your new apartment. It needed some cleaning and you have ventured out to buy groceries. You are struggling with the bags up the stairs when you see Ezra again. “Let me assist you, ma’am. Well, as best as I can.” Ezra reaches for one bag and you thank him. 

“Anything helps. I am not used to the stairs just yet.” You admit and start to ascend the steps.

“One of the many benefits of living in Paris is the exercise you will become accustomed to.” Ezra follows you up the stairs respectfully keeping his eyes off your ass. Though he does get a few glimpses of your silky slip. You are a gorgeous little bird. No doubt about that, but he is sure you are not looking for a man like him to be eyeing you.

“I am sure I’ll be whizzing up and down these stairs soon enough. The cobblestones and my heels…now that’s a different story.” You chuckle, sighing in relief when you make it to the third floor. Ezra follows you to your door and you set the bags down as you reach into your purse for your key. “I appreciate your assistance, Ezra. For the second time. I really do owe you a dinner now. I have enough food. If you do not have plans, would you like to join me for dinner this evening?” You ask him, biting your lip as he sets the bag down next to your feet.

Your eyes are bright and almost pleading with him to accept your invitation. He wonders if you are lonely since he has not heard anyone knock on your door since you have moved in. “Only if you will permit me to bring the libations for this evening?” He asks, offering a small smile. “I know the most delightful champagne that will make you feel as if you are as light as a bird.”

Your answering grin makes his heart thump, unbeknownst to you, and you nod your agreement. “Very well. Champagne and I shall cook. See you at seven?” You ask and he nods. “Excellent.” You turn to unlock your door, “see you at seven, Mr. Ezra.” You smile and bend down to pick up your bags. “Don’t be late.” You warn playfully, stepping into your apartment. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He promises and you shut the door behind you. 

****

“Shit.” You hiss to yourself as the water boils over. It’s been hard to cook on a stove you aren’t familiar with and you struggle to make sure everything is ready as there’s a knock on the door. You sigh, rushing over to the mirror to check your appearance and you struggle to remove the apron around your waist before you compose yourself and open the door to Ezra. 

“Good evening, chérie.” He smiles and you can’t help but smile back, “come in.” You insist and step aside for him.

Stepping into the apartment, Ezra smiles at the way your own balcony doors are thrown open like his. “Dinner smells delectable, little bird.” He turns around with the champagne bottle tucked j def his arm. “Shall you show me the ice box to stow this in, or shall we open it now?” He doesn’t know how much longer you have for dinner to be ready or if you would rather wait to have the bubbly with the meal.

“Let’s open it now.” You tell him, “dinner is nearly ready. I just need to mash the potatoes.” You walk over to the cabinet to take out two of the four glasses that came with this apartment. “Not exactly ideal for champagne but it will have to do.” You tell him, setting the short glasses down on the table. 

“It all tastes the same.” He winks and manages to take the foil off of the bottle. You want to ask if he needs help but he tucks the bottle under his arm and twists his hand, popping the cork and you are surprised at how agile he is. He pours two glasses and you take the glass he holds out towards you. 

“A toast to two Americans in Paris?” You ask and he nods, “two Americans in Paris. Let us find what we are looking for in these cobbled streets.” He toasts and you clink your glass against his. 

Taking a sip, you hum in surprise at how delicious the champagne is. “So what brought you to Paris?” You ask him, curiosity getting the better of you.

He had known you would ask. It’s natural to be curious, just like he is curious of you. Setting his drink down, his hand unconsciously reaches for his missing limb, grasping the small nub that is left where his shirt is neatly pinned up. “I was here in the war.” He explains, his voice low and reflective. “I am sure you are much too innocent to remember the horrors.” You have to be in your early - maybe mid - twenties, just experiencing your first burst of freedom. “I came back two years later, feeling more at home here than where I am from.”

You aren’t surprised. Back home, a lot of men came back with injuries. Physical or mental. They were never the same so you can understand why he wanted to leave. “You’re from…Louisiana?” You ask, figuring out his accent, and he nods, “born and raised.” You smile, “that explains the accent. I like it. It’s smooth. Like whiskey.” You compliment him and take another sip of the champagne.

“What’s your story, little bird?” Ezra wants to change the subject, his heart aching at all the other information that you would have no interest in. “I must confess that I was surprised to find you alone with no chaperone, though times are changing.”

“Times are changing.” You echo, setting your glass down so you can drain the potatoes to mash them. “I - I wanted to escape.” You answer honestly, “to explore and find myself. All my life…I’ve been what my parents wanted me to be. I attended finishing school in London and after returning to Boston, I found that I didn’t belong there anymore. I decided to come to Paris, explore myself and this beautiful city. My parents weren’t happy but I had to grow up.” You confess and turn around to finish cooking the dinner.

He senses that there is more to your story but he doesn’t push. Knowing that he is just a stranger and not a confidant. “You have chosen a wondrous time to come, little bird. Paris at night is magnificent. Have you gone out to explore the city so far?”

“Not yet.” You admit, “I find myself falling asleep while reading guide books and I suppose I need to summon the courage to get out there and explore. The museums, especially. The Eiffel Tower. The Arc de Triomphe. There’s so much to see.” You confess and mash the potatoes.

“If you would permit me,” Ezra hums, biting his lip before he continues. “I could extend my own presence as a makeshift guide? I have spent extensive hours roaming this fair city and speak fluently.” He smiles. “I can give you the experience you wish, if you can bear my poor company for extended periods of time.”

You plate up the meal and smile to yourself as you turn back towards him to set his dinner down in front of him. “I will certainly take you up on that offer, Ezra. I wish to see the real Paris. The tourist things too, but I want to know the true Paris. It’s people. It’s food. The secret places.” You confess, setting your own plate down and you sit down.

“It’s food is delicious and the people are not as unfriendly as some would claim.” He wishes he could help you, offer a hand, but he offers a toast. “To Paris being exactly what you want.”

You clink your glass with his, a smile on your face. “To Paris being exactly what we want.” You correct and he hums, taking a sip of champagne. “Please, dig in. I’m not the best cook, but chicken and mashed potatoes, I can do.” You tell him, picking up your knife and fork.

“Cherie, it is a meal that I did not have to labor over myself.” Ezra reminds you. “It will taste like the most delicate foie gras I have ever sampled.” The use of a fork and knife at the same time is impossible, but instead of asking you to cut up his food, Ezra picks up his knife to attempt to cut the chicken without pushing food around too badly.

You bite your lip as you watch him try to cut into the chicken. You decide to help and you haven’t cut into your dinner yet so you move fast to cut up the chicken. Once it’s all cut, you reach out to swap your plate with his. Acting fast once again to cut up your own chicken and you set your knife down, just using your fork like he is.

“Thank you.” His voice is low, slightly embarrassed by the fact that you needed to cut up his meal as if he was still a child. He had come a long way in the last ten years but he still couldn’t do some things without a second hand. “I apologize for any grief that it might have caused.”

You tut, “don’t be silly. I can’t understand how difficult it is for you. It’s nothing for me to help.” You shake your head and start to eat using your fork. You want him to be comfortable in your home and he’s the only person you know in Paris.

Ezra’s smile turns onto you with simple pleasure. “You should not have feared about your cooking, little bird.” He assures you after the first bite. “It is divine to sample your culinary skills.”

You smile, pleased that he likes your cooking. “Thank you. Looks like I got something for that God awful finishing school I went to.” You chuckle softly and watch him enjoy the food. “I will have to cook for us more often. A balance between savoring the rich food of Paris and some home comforts. I make a mean fried chicken.” You tell him with a wink, enjoying his company despite harshly knowing much about him. “So how do you spend your days? Are you working?”

“I do not work.” Ezra admits, shrugging slightly. “My check from the military covers my expenses, although I do write poetry, badly might I add.” His words are wonderful, but he had yet to master writing left handed. “Sometimes I will deliver papers if I am bored or wish to have more money in my pockets. Or translate.”

You lean a little closer, “I should like to hear some of your poetry sometime.” You tell him, “and if you ever need someone to write for you, I am more than happy to volunteer my hand.” You say and fluster slightly when you realize how that sounds.

His thoughts are more than obscene as he imagines your soft looking hand wrapped around his cock. It would look much better than his own. “I will have to take you up on that.” He murmurs, enjoying the way your eyes flutter in embarrassment and you look down at your plate.

You clear your throat and scoop up some mashed potatoes. “Have you found love in the city of light?” You ask with slight curiosity. “Perhaps a beautiful French woman to occupy your days when you aren’t writing poetry.” You muse, your gaze flicking up to him.

“I fear that love has eluded me.” Ezra murmurs quietly. “Perhaps I am not looking in quite the correct spaces.” Your lip pulls between your teeth and he has the urge to bite it, then kiss away the sting. “Although perhaps a muse is right in front of me.”

You playfully glance behind you until you turn back to meet his dark gaze. “Me? I am no muse.” You assure him, “but perhaps we will discover one during our sightseeing. I- I am afraid I am of no use. I’ve never been in love.” You admit with a sigh, “my experiences would not assist you in your poetry.”

“Then perhaps I shall be granted the glorious privilege of witnessing your fall into the depths of amorous pleasure.” He smiles. “You are a beautiful woman and no doubt many men will court you. Wine and poetry, dancing and romance.”

You fluster again at him calling you a beautiful woman, ducking your head, “perhaps. We shall see.” You hum, picking up your glass of champagne and you admire him. He’s a handsome man, weathered like so many after enduring the war, but his eyes are sparkling and you know it would be easy to fall into their depths. He mentions other men when your current wish is for him to court you. “Shall we begin our exploration of Paris tomorrow? Unless you have other plans.” You add, not wanting to push yourself onto him if he is busy.

“I am at your disposal.” He nods his head and smirks when you fluster again. Wondering what could be going through your pretty head. “Whatever you wish to do.”

You hum, “I would like to go to the Louvre. There’s so many wonderful pieces. Pieces I’ve read about and I want to wander the halls and admire the beautiful art.” You admit, picking up your fork to finish your meal.

“It is a date.” Ezra hums. “I know of a charming cafe where we can have lunch if you would like to join me. Let me provide a meal for you, although my own cooking skills are non-existence.”

You nod, watching him finish his meal. “It’s a date.” You repeat, heart beating faster at the thought and you imagine walking along the Seine by his side, enjoying the city and his southern drawl. “Now…I got an apple tart for dessert. You fancy a slice?” You ask, standing up to take the empty plates.

“I must confess I am in possession of an enormous sweet tooth.” Ezra groans at the idea of a sweet dessert, and he loves apple tarts. “I would be honored to sample your tart, chérie.”

You giggle as you carry the plates over to the sink, working fast to cut a decent slice of tart for you and Ezra. “I picked it up from the patisserie down the street, I hope it’s good.” You tell him as you sit down and pick up the smaller fork you had set out. “I love sweet things too.” You confess with a smile.

“Then we will get along perfectly.” Ezra winks and groans at the sight of the tart. “It is delicious looking, little bird.” He promises.

You and Ezra enjoy dessert with comfortable silence and when it’s finished, you gather the plates to wash. “I best be leaving you to your peace. I’m certain you want to be with your thoughts after so long of hearing me wittering on.” Ezra says as he stands up from the table. 

“Absolutely not. You’re a great dinner guest. If you wish to leave, I shall see you tomorrow for our lunch and Louvre date.” You giggle and Ezra nods. 

“I’ll call for you around eleven.” He says and leans in to kiss your cheek. “Thank you for the delectable dinner, chérie. I will return the favor with a less deadly dinner cooked by a professional lest I am unable to cook.” He jokes and you grin, shaking your head as you escort him to your front door. 

“Sounds like a plan. Goodnight Ezra.” You say as you lean against the door frame. 

“Goodnight little bird.” He returns and steps into the hall. You watch him for a moment as he retreats to his apartment next door and then you close the door, leaning against it to close your eyes. You’ve never met anyone like Ezra. Certainly never met anyone who makes you feel like he does. After you wash up, you’ll pick out your outfit. You want to look good for Ezra, and hopefully he likes what he sees.

The next morning, Ezra takes great pains with his appearance. Waking up early, he decided to treat himself to a shave and a haircut from the barber down the street, knowing that he can often miss small patches of hair and he wants to be worthy of your presence. He dresses smart, his button down shirts slightly larger than fitted so he can slide them on without fiddling with the buttons. Once eleven comes, he steps out of his door with a small clutch of flowers he had impulsively purchased on the way back from the barber.

You inhale deeply, adjusting your dress for the umpteenth time, and you take a beat before you walk over to open the door to Ezra. "Good morning." You smile when you see him, his hair slicked back and freshly shaven. He looks handsome and your heart thumps in your chest. "You look handsome." You tell him, wanting him to know you appreciate the effort he's clearly put in. You hope he likes your efforts.

“Little bird,” Ezra slowly peruses your appearance, enjoying the way your hips sway slightly as you twirl around. “For the first time in my loquacious existence, you have rendered me speechless with your exquisite beauty.” He proses breathlessly. “While I must apologize for my own humble appearance, you would outshine the brightest star in the night’s sky.” He extends the flowers to you. “A humble offering to a veritable goddess.”

His words combined with the look in his eyes has you breathless, your jaw dropping slightly and your stomach twists. "I - you are a wonderful poet, Ezra. Truly, you've - no one has ever been so poetic about my appearance. Especially when I will be walking alongside such a handsome gentleman. Thank you, these are beautiful." You take the flowers, your fingers brushing his, and you bring them to your nose to sniff them. "I will put them in water and get my things." You smile, turning to walk towards the kitchen.

He’s proud that he could put such a look on your face, the quiet pride of a compliment. He believes it to be true however, you are a goddess and he is fortunate that you speak to him. Many beautiful women have uncomfortably avoided him, as if his loss of limb at the scar on his cheek were from accosting a woman. When you return he offers his one remaining limb. “Shall we?”

"We shall." You smile, taking his arm after you lock your front door, and you let him guide you down the stairs and out onto the bustling streets of Paris. Springtime in Paris is beautiful. The breeze, the flowers, it's incredible. "No wonder you wanted to return here. Paris is...unlike any place I have ever known. It has an aura around it that seems magical." You sigh.

Ezra chuckles, "clearly you have not been to Boulevard de Clichy." 

Your eyes widen, aware that the Moulin Rouge is there. "I wouldn't mind going there. To explore all of Paris." You say timidly, hoping he doesn't think you are scandalous.

Grinning, Ezra wishing he could pat your hand. “Then we shall have to make plans to go one evening.” He decides. “Dinner and dancing. Allow me to show you the more….jubilant side of the city.” He hums, imagining the wonder in your eyes. Would you be scandalized or enchanted with the display of eroticism? He feels the passionate side of you would be enchanted. “Perfectly respectable with an escort.”

You smile, pleased he isn't scandalized by your request. "That's a date." You squeeze his arm and he winks at you, making your heart stutter. You've never felt like this before, so smitten by a man so quickly. You know you must remain friends to preserve the only friendship you have managed to discover thus far in the city. 

"Here we are." Ezra declares when you arrive outside of the cafe, reluctantly letting go of your arm to greet the cafe owner. 

"Bonjour, Monsieur Ezra." The owner greets him and Ezra nods, unable to shake his hand. You are escorted to a small table in the window and Ezra uses his hand to pull your chair out. 

"Thank you." You smile as you sit down and take the menu.

“As you might have deduced, little bird, I am a frequent patron of this establishment.” He hums, nodding towards the menu. “Everything is splendid, although the quiche and Croque Monsieur are particular favorites of mine.”

You hum, “the quiche sounds good.” You look over the menu for a few more moments before you set it down. The waiter comes over and Ezra orders a glass of white wine, asking if you want the same and you agree. The waiter takes your order and you listen to Ezra order in perfect French and you fluster as you try your best to order. When the waiter leaves, you glance out of the window, admiring the Parisians leaving.

“Do not fret, little bird.” He assures you, watching as you turn your head to look at him again. “Your French is solid and you will only improve as you are immersed in the language.” He promises. “Often I do translations and I will assist you however I can.”

You reach for his hand, squeezing it. “I appreciate your help.” You say and release his hand when the wine glasses are set down in front of you. “To new friendships.” You toast, clinking your glass against his.

Ezra nods, smiling as he takes a sip of the wine he always enjoys. Somehow improved by your company. “So the Louvre today. I feel like we should be able to spend a lovely afternoon there.”

You nod, sipping the wine before you set it down. “Yes. I am excited. I studied art at finishing school so it will be wonderful to see so many famous pieces in real life. I am sure you’ve been before and are going to be utterly bored.” You joke, keeping your eyes on his.

“I assure you, every visit to the Louvre is special.” Ezra smiles. “But this visit might be the most special. The company is much better than my own.”

You fluster once more at his words, aware that you barely know the man but you can’t deny that he makes your stomach twist with desire. The food arrives and you start to eat, groaning at how delicious it is. “Oh my God. This place is a gem.” You tell Ezra after you swallow your first bite.

Your groan is sensual, almost erotic and Ezra’s cock twitches at the sound. He grins at you. “Do you see why I enjoy it so much, little bird?” He muses, picking up his own sandwich and taking a bite before setting it down to wipe his mouth. Just because he had one less arm does not mean he is lacking manners.

“Absolutely. I love it.” You promise, “it’s going to be a favorite of mine in days to come.” You assure him, taking another sip of your wine. After you’ve both polished off your delicious lunch, Ezra pays despite your protest. 

“You made dinner last night. It’s the least I could do.” He tells you and you nod, “fine but I’ll be making dinner again.” You promise and he nods, “and I’ll bring more champagne.” 

You stand up after he pays the bill. “That sounds like a fine deal to me.” You wink and take his arm as he guides you out onto the street.

The line for the Louvre isn’t incredibly long and soon the two of you are walking into the cool interior. The smell of the building always makes Ezra sigh. The scent of thousands of paintings and pieces giving the air a heady tone. “What shall we take in first, little bird?” He asks, curious to see where your interests will lead you.

You bite your lip, guiding him towards the nearest hallway, eager to see it all. “I want to see everything.” You tell him and he chuckles. You look up at the ceiling in awe of the paintings and the tapestry and you smile at Ezra. “This is incredible.” You exhale in amazement. “Thank you for coming with me.” You tell him as you start to admire the first piece of art.

“You are most welcomed.” Ezra watches you. Smiling as you get lost in the wonder of the museum. Lips parted as you gaze at the beauty in front of you, though he doesn’t even know what you are looking at. Too busy staring at his own version of art.

You don’t notice him staring at you as you admire the piece, in awe of the detail and you turn to finally catch him watching you and you reach up to pat down your hair. “Is there something on my face?” You ask, touching your cheek, feeling self conscious.

“Every hair is in place and your skin is as clear as a cloudless sky, chérie.” He assures you, smiling softly. “Forgive my lack of manners. I found your reaction to the art breathtaking.”

You fluster, shaking your head at his insanely generous compliments. “You flatter me too much, Mr. Ezra. I am a mere woman, not a goddess.” You reprimand him softly, “Now, let’s continue before I have no choice but to melt into the marble from your kind words.” You tell him and pat his hand, continuing to walk and admire the art.

“I am mistaken.” Ezra hums, his steps jaunty beside you and he grins when you cock your head in curiosity. “You are an angel, fallen from heaven to walk among us mere mortals.”

You playfully roll your eyes, “then you are the devil himself come to tempt me. With his perfect jaw and that gorgeous nose.” You compliment him, “come to shower me with flattery when it’s he who looks like Adonis.” You murmur, wanting him to feel just as flustered.

He preens, just every so slightly, at your compliments. Shaking his head and winking at you. “Adonis, huh?” He asks, smirking. “I can accept that. As long as my own fair observations are taken as the gospel truth. You know the devil was God’s perfect angel, until he wasn’t.”

You slap his hand playfully, “let’s agree to disagree.” You tell him and he hums, “very well. I am nothing but a gentleman.” 

His words still have your stomach twisting and you realize it feels like you’ve known Ezra for your entire life instead of one day. “And when the devil fell from heaven…he was temptation incarnate.” You add playfully.

“And what can I do to tempt you?” He teases, frowning slightly when he realizes how sordid he sounds. “Apologies, little bird,” he murmurs sincerely. “Please do not allow me to make you uncomfortable if I overstep.”

“Do not fret, you aren’t making me uncomfortable. In fact, I like it. I like our banter. As for tempting me…you’re already doing a fine job.” You assure him with a smirk, glancing at the piece of art you stop in front of, feeling his gaze burn into the side of your face.

Ezra hums, wondering what kind of temptation he’s providing. Since the war, his own companionship has been the occasional woman he has paid for a night between her thighs, not ashamed of that, but he knows that he is not a man most would look at as a potential partner. Especially after his return to the states.

You see his curious face and you giggle softly, “come on Ezra. Let’s continue. I want to see the Mona Lisa too.” You stroll through the museum, knowing you won’t be able to see it all but you want to see the pieces you’ve seen in books, that you’ve longed to see in person.

The two of you debate. A friendly conversation about pieces that you come across and observations that have you both in stitches as you continue into the museum and Ezra points out some of his favorite paintings. The hand tucked around his arm slowly morphs into your hand in his, allowing him to point as he brings up your hand with it. Standing in front of his favorite, ‘The Battle Between Love and Chastity’, he hums as he lifts your hand to press a kiss to the back of it.

Your heart thumps at his soft kiss and you offer him a soft smile. “Something you have experience with?” You joke softly and he winks at you, “perhaps.” You giggle and shake your head, looking back at the piece. You’re enjoying holding his hand and admiring the art beside him.

Ezra explains why he loves the piece in great detail, shrugging slightly at his impassioned he had become. “There is something about throwing away society’s expectations that I enjoy.” He tells you with a smile.

You smirk, “that I can already tell and I admire it. Being outside of the social norm. That’s what I wanted to escape. I didn’t want to conform or be a puppet.” You sigh, revealing slightly why you came to Paris. You squeeze his hand, “shall we continue?” You ask, clearing your throat when he starts to open his mouth, clearly wanting to ask questions you don’t want to answer.

“Of course, little bird.” You are not comfortable sharing and he would not dream of pushing you. Nodding, he guides you on to the next exhibit, simply enjoying being your escort.

You explore as much of the museum as you can, spending far too much time exploring the Louvre and soon you are back out on the bustling streets of Paris. “Thank you for today, truly. It’s been a day to remember.” You tell Ezra, squeezing his hand.

“I should be extending my gratitude to you, little bird.” Ezra protests, smiling at the way the low sun shines off your hair. “I cannot recall a more enjoyable or relaxing day.” He tucks your hand back around his elbow. “Perhaps we can reproduce the experience another time?”

“Absolutely.” You assure him, “I would be honored to be escorted around Paris by a handsome man.” You wink at him, “hardly a difficult thing to agree to. Next time though, lunch is on me.”

He shakes his head, knowing that you will argue with him if he insists he pay. “Then I will show you the best little cafes in Paris, you will be astounded with how much there is to offer in just our little neighborhood alone.”

“That sounds like a deal.” You smile at Ezra as he escorts you back to your apartment building. He’s charming and intelligent and you know it’s dangerous to feel this way so quickly but you can’t help it. He’s enchanting. “Today was incredible.” You sigh when you arrive outside of your door, “thank you for spending today with me.”

“The sublime pleasure was exceedingly mine, little bird.” Ezra reaches for your hand to kiss softly. His thumb rubs the skin before he presses his lips to it as he looks up at you. “Your beauty still surpasses all of the greatest works in the Louvre.”

Your heart pounds in your chest and you look at him, “you flatter me far too much.” You softly reprimand him, “especially when you are carved like the Greek statues.” You return his compliment and you love the way he ducks his head shyly.

“Perhaps by the profile with the hawkish nose.” Ezra chuckles. “Although my hair does curl when longer than its current styling.

“I’d like to see that sometime.” You tell him and you lower your hand from his, reaching into your purse to pull your keys out. “Thank you for today, Ezra.” You repeat and lean in to kiss his cheek, taking a beat until you lean back, turning to open your front door. “I’ll be inviting you to dinner again soon.” You warn him playfully, “you’ll be sick of me soon.” You joke, getting your door open and turning back to look at him.

“I am most dubious about that assertion, little bird.” Ezra nods and smiles at you. “May your evening be soft and luxurious.”

His words wash over you, calming you like a warm bath, and you offer him one last smile before you disappear into your apartment. He has wiggled his way into your mind and heart after a ridiculously short amount of time. You know it would be easy to fall in love with him. 

****

“Good evening Ezra.” You greet your neighbor when he opens the door  to your apartment and strides in. You’re at the stove finishing up dinner and he comes over to set the bottle of wine down on the counter. You’ve spent the past month getting to know the man and you’re in love. He’s smart, charming, and devastatingly attractive. It’s a combination that has you thinking of him nearly every moment of the day.

“Good evening, little bird.” Ezra smiles as he notices the glasses are already set out. “I will pour us a generous serving of wine and set the table if that is agreeable with you?” He has insisted that he help in some small ways since you are feeding him, never allowing him to help clean up.

You nod, “that sounds like a plan.” You turn back to the stove to stir the sauce, wanting him to enjoy this piece of home you’ve decided to cook for him. He works fast to set the table and soon enough, he’s sliding a glass of wine into your hand.

“It smells divine, chérie.” Ezra groans, leaning over to get a better whiff. “I must confess I will need to have the local tailor let out my trousers if you continue to feed me such scrumptious meals.”

You chuckle, “we can always walk more now that the evenings are lighter and the weather is better.” You compromise and he hums, “very well. We can indulge and then walk it off.” He winks and you sip your wine, setting the glass down before you bend over to check the meatloaf.

He can’t help but admire your shapely bottom as you lean over the little oven. Groaning quietly as the racy thoughts filter through his mind and he reminds himself that you are his friend and neighbor.

You stand up, unaware of his internal battle, and you get to work on the mashed potatoes. “Go take a seat. It won’t be long.” You promise and he nods, making his way over to the table with his glass of wine. It’s only another five minutes until you’re plating up the meal and Ezra groans as you set his plate down in front of him. After you’ve sat down with your own plate, you pick up your glass, “to home comforts.” You toast playfully, liking his answering grin as he clinks his glass against yours.

“I must commend you, chérie.” Ezra groans after just one bite of the meatloaf. “When we first met you claimed to be lacking in the culinary arts, yet every meal seems to be near ambrosia.”

You shake your head, “you flatter me far too much. Soon, I won’t be able to fit my head through the door.” You joke and he chuckles, “I am merely stating the truth.” You hum, chewing your first bite and after you swallow you say, “then I guess finishing school wasn’t the waste of money my parents think it was.” You half joke, knowing your parents must be furious at you for leaving without a word. “It’s nice to cook for you. I- I cook with passion instead of duty because I want you to enjoy it.”

“Passion instead of duty is always preferable.” Ezra acknowledges, tilting his head at mention of your parents yet again. You speak of them in a way that makes him believe that they are ashamed of you. “If you will give me your parents address, I will write a strongly worded letter telling them exactly how your finishing school has benefited and that you are a model lady.”

You smile sadly, “I appreciate that but I highly doubt they would believe you.” He chuckles softly, “I said strong worded, little bird. I can be quite convincing.” He assures you and you snort, remembering the time he convinced you to try escargot and you hated it. He had made it sound so delicious. 

“Yet you didn’t convince me to enjoy snails.” You retort and he chuckles, shaking his head, “touché.” You continue eating and once you’ve finished, you carry the dishes to the sink and Ezra stands, wanting to help you clean. “Leave them to soak. I want to go dancing tonight. You did promise to take me dancing.” You remind him with a playful nudge.

“If we are going dancing, little bird, you must change into your finest dress.” He hums, wanting to make you smile. “I will change into a suit better suited for escorting a lady as lovely as yourself.” He smirks at his words and winks at you again.

“Meet in twenty minutes so we can get freshened up.” You pat his shoulder and he nods, making his way out of your apartment to get ready. You rush around, changing into your finest dress. It’s bright red and hugs your curves, wanting him to be taken back by your appearance. You’ve known him for a month now and it’s hard to deny that you love him. You’re in love with him. He’s handsome but he’s so much more than that. He’s clever, funny, and he manages to make you feel like you’re walking on air. You fix your hair and makeup and grab your purse, heading to the door after you hear Ezra knock on it.

His hand shakes, pulling it back from the door so he can check his hair once again. He had checked in a charcoal gray suit with a red shirt and back vest. Slicked his hair back and dragged his razor over his jaw so that his skin is smooth, beside his mustache. The cologne was the finishing touch, and he hopes he is presentable for you.

You open the door to him, a wide smile on your face when you see him. “You look so handsome.” You coo, reaching up to caress his cheek, and he reaches for your hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss the back of it. 

“You look like Aphrodite herself. A true vision.” You fluster and squeeze his hand when he lowers it from his lips. “Shall we go?” He asks and you nod, turning to quickly lock your door, and he guides you down the hall and down the stairs, out onto the streets of Paris.

“Now chérie, I am going to take you to a club that is rather….risque.” He announces, grinning at you. “Is that agreeable? You will be perfectly safe, I assure you.”

You nod, “I came to Paris to experience life. I am most agreeable.” You promise and he guides you along the still bustling streets. “Where are we going Ezra?” You ask, curious now that you’re heading out of your normal walking paths.

“Folies Bergère.” Ezra chuckles. “There is also a dance floor after we are inspired by the cabaret dancers.” He wants to take you to a place that is famous and fun. One that you will remember your first experience. “We will drink champagne and dance the night away.”

It sounds like the perfect night and it is. When you arrive, you are escorted to a small table off to the side of the rows of seats and Ezra gestures for you to sit, immediately calling the waiter over to order champagne. “Now this truly feels like Paris.” You declare as you look around the ornate theater, in awe of its grandeur.

“Wait until the performance starts, chérie.” He hums, reaching for your hand as if it is second nature. “I know you are aware of the female form, but the act is nearly erotic in nature and I hope you enjoy it.”

You bite your lip, a little nervous to see what the show will bring and you sip the champagne after it’s poured and Ezra toasts to “new experiences.” You offer him a nervous smile and he winks at you since he’s holding his glass. The lights go down after everyone has taken their seats and you anxiously await the start of the show.

As soon as the music starts, Ezra turns towards you. Wanting to see your reaction as the scantily clad women rush out onto the stage and immediately break into a very perfectly choreographed dance. Every step is perfectly struck and position posed, fun and flirty, sexy and thrilling.

Your eyes widen as the women come onto the stage, starting their routine, and you’ve never seen anything like it. Back home, your parents would’ve had a heart attack at just seeing a woman wearing a dress that clung to her curves. This is beyond that and it’s thrilling. “Oh my God.” You grin, watching the dancers with delight. This is what you wanted, to see things you’ve never seen before.

You are entranced, bewitching to look at and Ezra happily falls under your spell. Watching the lights shine across your face when the spotlights move and your laughter and clapping is the music he hears. He’s fallen in love with you, completely and totally in love. “You’re gorgeous.” He blurts out, flushing slightly when the music is quiet and his proclamation was louder than intended.

There’s a moment where Ezra could have pulled back or rethought the idea that rushes through his mind. He doesn’t though. Caught up in the moment, he lunges forward and presses his lips to your urgently. As if he would expire if he did not sample your lips. Watching your eyes widen in surprise and then start to flutter closed as you moan quietly against his lips.

You reach up to cup his cheek, letting his lips press against yours while the music continues to play. When he pulls back after several moments, you smile and he nudges his nose against yours. "Ezra." You whisper so only he can hear with the music coming to an end and the crowd claps the dancers, making you pull back to look into those dark eyes.

By the time the show is over, Ezra feels tipsy. Not from the champagne, he is drunk on you. The feeling of knowing that his romantic feelings are reciprocated has him flying and he stands, still holding your hand and smiling down at you. “Chérie, would you permit me to escort you to the dance floor, where I might hold you closer than socially acceptable for the duration of as many songs as our feet can tolerate?”

You stand up, letting him guide you to the floor after you say “I’ll dance with you all night, my love.” You let him escort you to the floor where the band is playing and you inhale sharply when his arm pulls you close. You reach up to grip his shoulders, leaning on towards him until your forehead is pressed against his, as tight as you can get while the song plays.

“Little bird, I must confess something.” He whispers, swaying with you gently and wishing that he had his other arm so he could hold more of you. “I must admit that I have fallen for you. Hopelessly and desperately in love with you. With no possible end in sight.”

You giggle, almost drunk off of your emotions, and he leans back, hurt clear on his face but you quickly cup his cheeks, barely swaying as you force his eyes to meet yours. “I’m yours, Ezra. You have my heart, my soul, my body. I love you. Every part of me loves every part of you.” You vow. He’s told you the horrors he endured during his service and it didn’t change a thing.

He closes his eyes and leans into your touch, nuzzling your hand. “Perhap, when you are ready, we might….explore the art depicted in my favorite painting at the Louvre?” He ventures. He would never dream of pressuring you, but he aches to touch you, to caress your skin and lose himself in your body.

You shiver at the suggestion, your body lighting up at the mere thought of him touching you. You slide your hands down to his chest, “I’m ready. I’ve been ready for a while but there’s something you should know.” Your eyes flick up to meet his, “I have never…it’s - you’d be the first.”

Ezra’s breath catches and he stares into your eyes solemnly. “I am honored you would trust me with such a wondrous gift, little bird.” He murmurs softly. “I can assure you that nothing will be done without your enthusiastic approval.”

You nod, trusting him implicitly, and you stop moving as the song ends. You stare into his eyes, “take me home and make me yours, Ezra.” You demand, wanting him tonight and to give him all of you.

“I- yes.” Ezra breaths. “Whatever you wish, chérie.” He takes your hand and brings it up to kiss the back of it. “Let us make our way back to our abodes and we shall begin to become more intimately acquainted.”

You let him escort you through the crowd and out onto the now chilly streets of Paris, walking a little faster than you have known him to walk before as he guides you back to your building. “We have all night, mon amor.” You giggle playfully and squeeze his hand, “I’m yours for tomorrow too, not just tonight.”

“Forgive me, chérie.” Ezra flushes slightly. “It has been awhile for me and I must admit that I am eager to learn what makes you moan.”

You fluster, glad he’s eager to be with you. “I have wondered many nights what your touch would feel like. I’ve…explored my own body and know what feels good but I want to feel you, I want to hear you moan my name. I want you to feel pleasure.” You murmur, leaning against him as you turn onto your street.

“My little bird is a seductress.” Ezra groans, his cock twitching in his suit pants and he wants nothing more than to feel your heat around him. “Tell me, have you ever heard of fellatio or cunnilingus?” He asks, his voice dropping. “Using my mouth on your cunt to make you feel like you are flying?”

Just his words make your cunt bottom out and your stomach twists with anticipation. “I- I’ve read about it in my books. Novels. Books my parents didn’t know I had.” You confess to owning erotica and his voice has your cunt dripping and you walk a little faster, eager when you see your building in sight.

He chuckles, watching you pull away in your eagerness. “Then you won’t be scandalized when I tell you that I want to slide my tongue through your cunt until you are crying out my name and soaking my face.”

You gasp at his scandalous words but not because you are shocked. No, you are turned on. His words send a wave of arousal and need through you and you are practically sprinting to the front door of your building. When you fumble to open the door with your key, Ezra’s hand slides down your back to squeeze your ass and you drag him inside, pushing him against the door to press your lips to his, uncaring of your neighbors possibly witnessing your display.

Ezra groans and when he can, his tongue slides inside your mouth, drinking down your moan. His cock is swelling, rapidly hardening against your body as you press yourself against him. Wishing again he had both arms so he could pick you up and carry you to your apartment.

You kiss for several moments until a door slams from the floor above and you pull back, giggling as you start to climb the stairs to your apartment. Ezra struggles a little due to the situation in his trousers and you are fumbling with your lock when he comes up behind you, caressing your back. “Are you sure, little bird?” He asks, his voice rough and full of lust. It’s enough to make you shiver. You open the door and step inside, reaching for his hand. “I’m sure, Ezra. I want you. I love you.”

Nodding, he doesn’t insult you by questioning you again. He steps into your apartment and kicks the door shut. “Chérie, you tell me if there is anything you do not like.” He demands. “I wish for this to be nothing but joyous.” He will do his damndest to make it exactly what you want. “Now show me your bedroom.”

You take his hand after you set your purse down to guide him to your bedroom. He’s never been in here before and you fluster at the clothes that are on the floor from your rush to pick an outfit for going dancing with him. “Sorry about the mess.” You murmur and he chuckles, shrugging off his jacket to drape it over the chair in the corner. 

“Do not fret little bird, I’ve seen far worse.” He assures you and you swallow harshly, the quiet of the room brings the seriousness of this night but you still want him. You reach up to unclip his tie, knowing he uses those since he can no longer tie his own, and you reach for the hem of his shirt after you toss the tie to the chair. “I want to see you.” You request, keeping your hands on the hem in case he doesn’t want you to remove it.

“My arm-“ he swallows nervously. “It is not pretty.” He fears that you might still turn him away. “They did the best they could, but it is still a missing arm.” He holds your hand for a moment and then lets go. “But if you wish to see me, there is nothing I would deny you.”

“My love.” You let go of his shirt to reach up and cup his cheeks, “I want to see all of you. Let me love all of you. I do not care about your imperfections. I have my own. I simply wish to see the man I love. All of him.” 

Ezra nods, a lump in his throat, and you reach down to lift his shirt over his head. When it flutters to the floor, your eyes meet his until they shift to his body. The scars that scatter his skin from battle and the jagged edge of his missing limb. You aren’t repulsed, in fact, it makes you love him more for enduring such hardship. You lean down to press your lips to his shoulder, kissing along the scars that lead to his amputation.

He shudders, inhaling a ragged breath as you show him more acceptance than anyone ever has before. Standing before you in his trousers, he stands proud, enjoying the heated look in your eyes when they find his again. “I only wish I could assist you out of your dress, little bird.”

You shake your head, stepping back to reach behind you and pull the zipper of your dress down. “Do not worry about that, Ezra. You can take my panties off.” You wink and try to cover up your nerves as you let your dress fall to the floor after you kick your heels aside, revealing your underwear to his hungry gaze.

“Aphrodite herself.” Ezra groans, his eyes drinking in every inch of skin you have revealed to him. “I am a mere mortal in the presence of a goddess.” He declares, stepping closer and caressing your waist as he leans in to kiss you. You are still wearing a bra so he slides his hand around to try to unclip it while you kiss.

His tongue slides against yours and you can feel him fumbling so you reach behind you to help him unclip your bra, letting him drag it down your arms until it’s falling to the floor. You caress his chest, sliding your hands up until you are wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chest against his. His hard cock digging into your hip and you want to see all of him. Your hands let go of his neck so you can reach between you to undo his pants, shoving them down and he kicks his shoes off so he’s only in his briefs and socks. 

“Can I?” You ask, wanting him to be comfortable and when he nods, you hook your fingers in his underwear to drag them down. Your eyes wide when his thick length bounces free in front of your face. “Oh my God.” You gasp at him and reach up to wrap your fingers around him instinctively.

“Shit.” Ezra hisses, his length pulsing in your grip. “I- I have imagined your hand around my cock many times, little bird.” He confesses. “And yet I find that my imagination was sorely lacking in the realization of how good you would feel.” He doesn’t want you to be fearful so he reaches down and grabs your hand so he can help you back to your feet. “I wish to taste you.” He croaks. “Lay down on the bed so I can strip off your panties and lay my eyes on heaven.”

You don’t deny him. Shifting back to lay on your bed, head on the pillows, and you watch him as he kicks his briefs off his ankles and is left only in his socks as he kneels on the bed. Your heart pounds in your chest as he reaches out to hook his fingers in your panties on one side of your body and he carefully manages to shimmy them down until you are naked. Once he tosses them aside, his hand slides along your calf until he’s gripping your thigh and you grant him his silent wish, spreading your legs for him.

“Heaven.” Ezra proclaims, his eyes fixed on the thatch of neat curls that cover your sex. “I will be washed clean of all my sins in the pool between your thighs.” He traces lines over your skin with his fingers and he bends down to press a kiss to your knee. Shuffling down, he lowers himself down as he kisses along your thigh.

His words seem too poetic for such a naughty act but your chest heaves as his kisses get closer to your cunt. When his breath washes over the sensitive skin, you whimper and his deep chuckle echoes in your bedroom. “Ezra.” You gasp when he leans closer and his tongue dips between your folds, sampling your tangy arousal, and your eyes close as the pleasure tingles over your body.

Ezra groans, the sound vibrating directly into your core and immediately he’s entranced. Addicted to you and the way your thighs tighten around his head. Flicking his tongue over your clit, he wishes he could spread your legs wide and hold you open while he devours you like the feast you are.

Your head is thrown back when he sucks on your clit, the pleasure making your head spin. You’ve never experienced anything like this. His wet mouth on your cunt has your heart pounding in your chest. “Fuck, Ezra.” You curse, panting as he pushes his tongue inside of you. “So good. It feels so good.”

Moaning, he loves the way your walls pulse around his tongue, trying to draw him deeper. He shuffles down until he is flat on his belly, turned slightly so he can lay on his right side. It doesn’t hurt to lay against his amputation and it allows him to still stroke your thigh and stomach with his left hand. Wanting to make this amazing for you and get you ready to take him.

"Shit. You - you feel so good baby." You sigh, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair, and your heart pounds in your chest when his dark eyes meet yours. "Oh God. So good." You pant when he slides his hand down, gathering up your slick, and he pushes a finger inside of you.

He has practiced this. With the women he had paid, so he is not fumbling like he might have been. Though you would not know there was finesse to his touch either way. Your cunt squeezes his fingers and he groans before he pulls his head away. “I am going to prepare you for my cock, little bird, you might feel very full but it is so I do not hurt you.”

You are nervous but you know he would never hurt you. You watch him, eyelashes fluttering as he scissors his fingers inside of you. "Oh God, Ezra." You whimper when he resumes sucking your clit. It's more pleasure than you've ever known and you love the man giving it to you. "Please." You beg, not sure what you are begging for but you feel the tension building in your belly.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” He coos, pulling off your clit before he dives back into your folds. His fingers pump and curl up inside you, pressing against the spongy spots until your hips jolt up and you cry out letting him know he’s found it. Determined to make you cum, he presses against that spot again and again while he sucks your clit into his mouth.

“Oh shit.” You hiss, back arching as the tension coils tighter until you’re falling apart. Clamping down on his fingers, you moan his name and wonder how on earth you survived without his touch. Soaking his fingers, you grip the sheets and squeeze your eyes shut as the pleasure surges through you.

Liquid gold. That is what rushes over his fingers as you fall apart. Coating them and his wrist while your walls squeeze his fingers like a vice. Making him groan at how tightly your body will hold his cock as he works you through your high.

“Oh God.” You pant, slumping against the mattress as he withdraws his fingers and you open your eyes, shifting to look down at him, loving the smirk on his face after he sucks his digits into his mouth. “Kiss me.” You beg, wanting to feel him over you.

Crawling up your body is not as graceful as it might have been before the war. He cannot pause and kiss or nip here and there as often as he would like. When he finally settles between your thighs, his cock against your mound, he smiles softly at you. “You wish for a kiss, little bird? I will grant you all the wishes you desire. Just call me your genie.”

You chuckle at his smooth words, your hands caressing every inch of his body that you can touch. “I love you.” You murmur before he leans in to kiss you. You feel his smile against your lips and you love how happy you feel in this moment. His weight is braced on his forearm and you reach between you to grip his cock, wanting to stroke him but you don’t really know what you’re doing.

He grunts, closing his eyes slightly. “Loosen your grip and slide your hand up and down.” He breathes out raggedly. “Feel how the skin moves over the hardness underneath?”

You follow his order, amazed at how he feels like velvet despite the hardness beneath. You slide your hand up and down, your thumb swiping over the leaking head unknowingly and he groans in response. “You’re big.” You tell him despite not having anything to compare him to. He’s big in your grip and that’s all you can go by.

“It will fit, most assuredly.” He groans. “The clutch of your cunt will be like the hottest glove I have ever worn.” He rocks his hips into your grip and twitches in your hand. “Little bird, I fear I am much too enthusiastic for you to continue. Otherwise I might cause myself great embarrassment by finishing before we can truly begin.”

You loosen your grip and he sighs in relief, making you smile. You’re pleased he’s just as affected by you as you are of him. “Put me in.” Ezra orders and you swallow harshly, suddenly nervous as you guide him towards your cunt. When he’s notched at your entrance, he starts to slowly push inside of you and your hands grip his back, eyes closed as you brace yourself for the pain you’ve heard about.

Ezra takes his time, breaking you forward an inch at a time. His jaw is clenched and his arm trembling from the effort to take it slow. When you close your eyes, brows knitted together, he drops down to his elbow and kisses you. “Relax, little bird.” He promises, feeling your walls tighten in anticipation.

You slide your hands up to cup his cheeks, keeping his lips against yours, and you whimper when he pushes deeper, trying to relax when he tells you to. “God.” You pant, half wishing this was over and half wishing this would last forever.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He promises, pushing his hips slightly deeper into the crevice of your thighs and smoothly through your innocence to completely fill you.

You gasp in pain but he soothes it away by leaning in to kiss you, distracting you, and you kiss for several moments, tongues tangled while your body adjusts to the intrusion. “Please, Ezra.” You whimper when his cock twitches inside of you. You want him to move, the pain now transforming into the beginnings of pleasure and your heart pounds in your chest at having the man you love take your innocence.

“We have all the time in the world, my love.” He assures you, not wanting you to feel like you have to rush towards bliss. His kisses keep you occupied for another moment and when he feels your inner muscles start to quiver, that he knows he can move without any resistance. “You feel perfect, the feeling cannot be described.” He is nearly speechless as he starts to pull his hips back slowly, keeping the movement measured when he slowly sinks back into you.

Your chest feels tight with emotion as he rocks into you, making you lift your legs higher. His groan vibrates into your chin after he presses a soft kiss there, and you slide your hands along his back. "It feels so good. Never- never imagined it would feel like this."

“Love making is supposed to feel good, like you never want it to end.” His words roll out, groaning slightly at how perfect you are. “I want you to feel nothing but pleasure with me.”

You chuckle softly, "I never want this to end." You confess, kissing along his neck as he moves inside of you with measured thrusts and when you lift your leg higher onto his hips, you whimper at the new sensation. "No one else I want to feel like this. Only you. I love you." You murmur, loving how you feel like the only people in the world.

“I adore you.” Ezra groans, closing his eyes as he rocks in and out of you. “My perfect little bird. So beautiful and trusting, so giving.” He kisses along your shoulder and groans when you squeeze him tight.

His honeyed words wash over you, making you feel like it's a struggle to breathe, but you pant out, "all yours." You feel that tension coiling in your stomach but it's slow, not as intense, just building with each rock of his hips. "Oh God, Ezra. I need-" You don't know what you need, just that it feels good and you want more.

“I wish I could do it, my love.” Ezra huffs, wanting to be the one to bring you all your pleasure tonight. “But reach down and rub your little button. The one I sucked on so satisfyingly.”

You reach down between you, your fingers finding your clit, and you whimper as you get the pleasure your body craved. His cock moves inside of you, hitting the right spot to make you whimper, and when he shifts his hips again, your head tilts back into the pillow as you cry out his name.

“Magnificent.” Ezra grunts, clenching his teeth together as your walls clamp down on his cock and you soak him in your pleasure. “Good girl. Good girl.”

Your eyes are closed and Ezra is leaning down to kiss along your neck, making you whimper, and you want Ezra to cum. “Baby. Oh baby. I want you to - please. Inside. I don’t care. I want to feel all of you.”

He shudders, imagining that feeling of filling you up and even though he knows it’s risky, he does. His pace picks up and he rocks into you with less measured thrusts. Half a dozen more times before he is moaning your name, pushing deep as his cock throbs and he paints your walls with his seed.

You close your eyes, loving how it feels to be totally consumed by him like this, and you whimper when he works himself through his orgasm, his seed pushed out of you, and you tangle your fingers in his hair to bring his face to yours, pressing your lips against his.

Ezra sighs against your lips. Enjoying the feeling of his high and he shifts so he can move his weight off his left arm, lowering himself onto you so it is not too uncomfortable for you. “I love you.” He murmurs against your lips.

“Love you too, baby.” You smile against his mouth, your hands shifting to caress his back. You love all of him, even the parts he’s missing. You adore him and you know you want to be his. You shift so he can lay on his side and you immediately move to curl around him, his cock sliding out of you at the move, and you don’t care about his seed dripping out of you as you breathe him in.

“I must confess that words are failing me, little bird.” His arm wraps around you, caressing your back as he tries to catch his breath. It had been such a long time since he had felt this way. Like he is whole. Not because of a missing limb, but because of your love.

“No words. Just us.” You murmur, closing your eyes as the events of the night catch up on you. He kisses your hair and you know you made the right choice coming to Paris. “Sleep, little bird.” Ezra urges, knowing you are exhausted. You hum, breathing him in and you fall asleep surrounded by him. 

****

* knock knock * 

The front door is shaking with the knocks, several in a row, and you are still asleep. “Coming!” Ezra calls out, struggling to pull his trousers on as he walks over to open the door before it can wake you up. “I think the door just about survived your incessant attack. How can I help you, sir?” Ezra asks, his shirt barely pulled over his head and untucked and he feels the other man’s anger as his eyes assess Ezra. He announces that he’s looking for you. “She’s thankfully still asleep right now, no thanks to your monstrous knocking. May I inquire as to whom is seeking an audience with her?” Ezra asks. 

“Tell her it’s Jacob. Her fiancé.”

Ezra’s stomach drops, his mouth parts but for a moment no words come out. “I believe you might be mistaken.” He manages after a moment of disbelief. “The lady is not engaged, she is unattached and has been for the duration of her time in Paris.” This is some kind of mistake. It has to be. You would not lie to him and keep a fiancé a secret.

“You are the one who is mistaken. She accepted my proposal. Her parents and my parents are close friends. She escaped to Paris and we thought she’d come back but it’s been a month and she’s - it looks like she has kept herself busy.” Jacob says in disgust as he looks at Ezra. 

You come out of your bedroom, robe hastily tied around your waist and your eyes widen when you see Jacob standing at your door. “Jacob? What are you doing here?”

“You are acquainted with this man?” The shock on your face is answer enough and Ezra feels like he has been played for a fool. He hears Jacob scoff and he can’t even remember to excuse himself before he is pushing past you to gather the remainder of his clothes so he can leave. You are engaged. What was this? Some kind of power trip for you? Making the poor fool fall in love with you before you go back to your life in America? Ezra growls, pissed that he doesn’t have two hands as he shoves his feet into his shoes without socks and grabs his tie and jacket.

“Ezra. Wait. Let me explain. Please.” You beg, trying to reach for him but he shrugs your hand away, spinning to push past Jacob and he storms down the hall. “Ezra. Please!” You beg, pushing past Jacob to follow him. 

“What do you want?” Ezra growls as he faces you. 

Your lower lip trembles at the disgust you see in his eyes. “Please let me explain. It’s complicated.”

“It is not complicated.” He hisses. “You led me to believe that you were unencumbered. When you have a doting fiancé waiting at home for you to warm his bed.” He is so hurt that he feels like he is going to lash out at you. “Go back to your fiancé.” He spits. “You can tell him that you slept with me out of pity.” Turning back around he tosses his jacket over his shoulder and quickly opens the door to his apartment, slamming it shut behind him.

Your eyes sting with tears and you turn to make your way back onto your apartment where Jacob is still waiting for you. “Looks like you’ve settled into Parisian life.” Jacob scoffs and you shut the door behind you. 

“I- I can’t go home with you. I love it here. It’s my home now. I belong here. Please Jacob. Don’t - don’t make me go home.” You plead and he shakes his head. 

“Your parents wanted me to bring you back. You know they are anxious for us to be married. When you left, they were frantic until they got your letter. They have been looking for you for weeks. They sent me here to bring you home so we can get married.” He tells you and you shake your head. 

You walk over to him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You know I love you, but as my friend. Our fathers…they always wanted us to marry but - you didn’t even propose. It was - it was arranged and I didn’t want that. I want love. Don’t you want love?” You ask him. 

Jacob swallows harshly, reaching for your hand to lower it from his face. “I have love. Her name…Cheryl. She’s perfect and I- I want to marry her.” He admits for the first time out loud. 

You grin, squeezing his hand, “then marry her. You and I are good friends but that’s it. I love you but I’m not in love with you.” You tell him and he nods, “you’re in love with him.” 

He jerks his chin to the door and it’s not a question, its a statement. You nod and Jacob sighs, “your parents are gonna be pissed at me for not bringing you home.” 

You chuckle, “when have we ever cared about what they think? I ran away because they have controlled me for too long. My father is still engrossed in war time but we are at peace now and I want to live, to love. Tell them I’m sorry, but I’m happy here.” You tell Jacob who nods, 

“I’ll tell them.” He leans down to kiss your cheek, “be happy.” He murmurs and you nod when he pulls back to look at you. 

“You too.” 

He lets go of your hand and walks over to your front door, knowing he’s going to have grief when he gets home but it will be worth it if he can marry Cheryl. You watch him close the door and decide to get dressed and find Ezra.

In his apartment, the few tears he had shed have been replaced by stifling anger. Scowling and ripping through his closet, the bag on the bed lays open to be stuffed with clothes. He cannot live here any longer. The furnished apartment had been a very comfortable place to be but he will be reminded by your betrayal. Curses hissed out from under his breath accompanying his hurried packing, hoping that he gets done and leaves before the sounds of love making come through the walls.

You open Ezra’s apartment door that he neglected to lock in his rush, and you find him packing a bag. “You’re leaving?” You choke and he doesn’t even look at you. 

“Aren’t you? Heading back to your pre-planned life in America? What was I? Just a joke? Seduce the one armed man so I can titter about him when I have luncheons in Boston?” Ezra hisses and you shake your head. 

“My love-” 

“Do not call me that.” He growls and you swallow, “Jacob and I were arranged to be married. Our families have been close friends for our entire lives. Our fathers served together in the Great War and they wanted us to be a family. Jacob never proposed properly. I never received a ring. It was on paper. That’s why I ran away. I didn’t want to marry him. I love him as a friend and nothing more. I swear to you, I wasn’t engaged to him in my heart, only in the eyes of my parents. I love you. I’m sorry I lied. I didn’t - I thought that it would brush over and Jacob would get married and I’d be free. I should’ve told you. I should’ve disclosed why I was here.”

He doesn’t believe you, shaking his head, he scoffs. “Yet there was a man on your doorstep, disgusted to see me in his place.” He reminds you. “I do not believe you little bird, I regret that you believe me to be so gullible. You’re just like her.” He hisses. “Pitying me and believing my lost arm has rendered me addle-brained as well.”

You shake your head, "just like who? Baby, I love you. Please don't do this. I love you and I - I'm so sorry I lied. I didn't - he isn't - we aren't engaged. Not in the traditional sense." You urge him to believe you.

“She was my fiancé.” He reveals, his frantic packing paused and he looks up at you with anger and sadness mixed together. “She told me in letters that she didn’t care that I had lost my arm. She loved me. She wanted me. Until I went home. She had been sleeping with my best friend. Told me that she hadn’t thought of us engaged once I had been wounded.”

“Oh God, Ezra. I’m so sorry.” You choke, fingers twitching with the need to comfort him. “Baby. I- oh God. I know you must hate me now and I understand. I get it. I- I’ll go. I’ll go. I’m sorry. Just - just know that I love you. I’m so in love with you and I’ve never felt this way before. I know you think I’m a whore and just like your ex fiancé. I’ll go.” You choke, tears now streaming down your cheeks because you know it’s over. He can’t forgive you.

Ezra closes his eyes, his shoulders slumping and he sighs. “Little bird….” He chokes out, gripping the shirt he had been packing in a tight fist. “You- swear to me that you are telling me the truth.” He demands. “That you never wanted to marry this man and he felt the same towards you.”

“I never wanted to marry him. He’s my friend. Nothing more. I swear to you.” You sob, “he - he’s in love with a woman called Cheryl. He - we have been friends our entire lives. He’s protective and I - he didn’t know that I was in love with you but when I told him, he agreed to leave me here.”

Ezra swallows, hating to see the tears in your eyes. He drops the shirt and moves towards you hesitantly. “I am sorry.” He whispers, ashamed that he had made you cry. You are telling the truth, you love him and you never wanted to marry that other man. “Are you staying?”

You nod, “if you’ll have me. If not…I guess I’m heading home.” You murmur, glancing back at the door after you wipe your eyes. Still dressed in your robe, you feel vulnerable.

He takes another step towards you and cups your cheek, guiding your eyes back to him. “If you stay, I wish for you to be my wife.” He murmurs softly. “I want to be your husband. Not to own you or to make you unhappy. But to build a life with you here.”

Your eyes widen as his response, and you are surprised he wants to marry you. If he’d asked last night, you would’ve said yes without hesitation. “You want to marry me?” You ask softly and he nods. You lean forward to press your forehead against his cheek, “I love you. It would - I’d marry you right this second if I could.”

“I do not think we could find someone to marry us at this hour.” Ezra hums, lowering his hand so he can wrap his arm around you. “There is also the small matter of procuring you a ring. I am a man who believes in tradition, and will be wearing my own with pride.”

You let him pull you into his chest and you swallow harshly, “you want -” You’re speechless as you reach up to cup his cheeks. “I love you. I want to marry you as soon as possible. I want to be yours in every way.” You murmur, pressing your lips against his.

“You will have me, little bird.” Ezra promises, smiling at you softly. “Every bit of me. I love you. I want you to be mine and I will be yours. Forever.”

You nudge your nose against his, “forever. Maybe we can get a chateau in the country and I can have your babies?” You suggest playfully, sliding your hand down his chest to feel his heart pounding beneath your touch.

“You wish to live the life of a French country woman?” Ezra grins, “chérie, I will make sure you have your chateau and your babies. We might have even started our little family tonight.”

You sigh in bliss, “I hope so. I love you, Ezra. I am so glad I met you. You’ve changed my life and I - I hope we spend the rest of our days together.” You murmur, knowing you would never regret coming to Paris to escape your family. You are going to create your own family with Ezra. 

****

“Mon cher, come in. Lunch is ready!” You call out to the garden where your son is playing. Your daughter on your hip as you place the bread on the table. “Ezra! Lunch is ready!” You call out to your husband who has been painting in the garden.

Looking up from his painting, Ezra smiles. Setting the brush in a cup of turpentine, he calls out to André. “Come, we must eat.” He tells him as he walks over to kiss you and take his darling little girl out of your arms. “Thank you, chérie.” He murmurs, not just talking about the lunch. He’s talking about the life he has with you, something he had never hoped to have after the war and now he couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.

#pedro pascal #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect smut #ezra prospect imagine #ezra prospect fanfiction #Post WWII AU

[imtryingmybeskar]

Starman Chapter Fourteen. Whewwww it has been a journey my friends. And we are starting to see the glimmers of the end. Warnings for patriarchal nonsense and gross sexism and misogyny, murder, incarceration, self harm, one mention of abortion, one mention of rapists, one mention of cannibalism, one mention of torture, extreme age gap marriage and subsequent pregnancy, death, some religious discussion.

Word count: 6.8k

Starman

Chapter Fourteen

Starman

Bold, bright midday sunlight streamed through the room, illuminating it in shades of decadent golden honey and cream. Several windows had been thrown open, welcoming the salt-tanged, whispering breeze that was coming from the ocean and causing the curtains to softly undulate as it caught them. He could hear birdsong over the faint background noise of the waves - an arpeggio of startling beauty and delightful simplicity from the unseen creature. Ezra was settled on the sofa once again, and this time he was surrounded by her - his back pressed against her front, her legs caging him either side, one of her calves draped lazily over his knee and the other a support for his arm. She was playing with his hair, her fingers running softly through his curls, causing him to hum in pleasure and lean back to get closer to her touch. It was a still moment of peace and serenity and love and absolutely everything Ezra had ever wanted.

Despite this idyll, he could feel the tendrils of anxiety and restlessness snaking themselves through him. He was apprehensive for several reasons, not least at the thought of what was to come after he had told her everything he had to. After he had departed the Glasshouse he had slept with a few people here and there - faceless individuals that he buried himself into to in an attempt to dull the sharp pain of Rien's rejection and departure and to try to feel something, anything other than the relentless downtrodden misery that the Glasshouse had sunk into his soul. He had felt no connection with any of them at all. They were a means to an end, a shallow sating of a hunger that ran incredibly deep and could not begin to be addressed by casual sex. But being with her here and now...he wanted her so badly - to feel every part of her, to kiss her all over and make her feel like the most loved being in the entire universe. She wanted him too, he knew that for a certainty now and was relieved about it. But that made it that much more difficult to resist her. And resist he must for the time being. He couldn't bear the thought of her rejecting him once she knew the whole sorry tale, and the closer they got the more unbearable the prospect of that potential rejection became.

"Its your home too you know."

Her voice broke into his thoughts and he looked down at the translator he had on his lap.

"Pardon me?" he asked, feeling as if he had come in partway through a conversation.

She pulled him back against her a little tighter and he felt her breasts push against his upper back as he lay flush against her chest. Her chin was resting lightly on his shoulder, her cheek brushing the side of his neck and her arms came to encircle him around his stomach as she spoke again.

"Before. On the beach. You said we should come back to "my home". Its your home now too."

He heard the warmth of the smile in her voice as she openly verbalised the welcome he had felt since the very moment he had set foot inside her little house and he closed his eyes and bit his lip against the happy yet still trepidatious tears that threatened to fall. Home. He hadn't had one since he was a child. Not really. Rien had felt like home for a long time, but there had not been a physical place where he could feel that acceptance and warmth and love for...well, decades. Yet he did feel it here. From her and from Dog in his blanket-strewn bed and from the very bones of the building. It was as if she had suffused herself into the spirit of this place, and he was only too glad to be welcomed into its embrace.

"My life. My love," he said, a little querulously. "Thank you. It means more to me than you can ever know to hear that."

She nuzzled her nose softly against his ear before whispering the words he had come to recognise in her language without the aid of the translator. "I love you."

His chest burned with the cascading feelings at her touch, her words, her proximity and he snuggled himself back against her even more, not wanting there to be a breath of air between them, wanting to be as close to her as he could possibly be. He leaned his head back and felt her mouth trail from his ear, across his cheek to capture his lips with hers. She murmured something against him and for a moment he couldn't bring himself to look at the translator, hazily drunk on adoration of her as he was. After what felt like several glorious minutes he glanced down to see her question.

"Do you feel ready to talk?" Her tone wasn't pushy, wasn't demanding. It was an opening, an invitation to begin what he had insisted he needed to. She wanted to make it as easy for him as possible to get through this. Still, reluctance warred with cold dread within his stomach and he had to force himself to nod softly, rubbing his nose against hers as he did. She kissed him again, and stroked his hair as she looked with purest kindness and love into his eyes. What he had to say was at total odds with his current situation and he didn't know how to go about it without spoiling the mood between him. She could see his hesitation and brought his hand to her lips to kiss over the back of it and over his fingers. "Your pace, Ezra," she murmured, echoing his own words back to him. "We don't have to do this now if you don't want to."

It was this more than anything that spurred him on. He couldn't bear to have it hanging over him, over them any longer. He brought his knees up a little higher to his chest and rested the translator against them so she could see his words more easily as he spoke. He took a deep breath and began.

"The Glasshouse was the most notorious prison in all of the seven systems. Once a moon of staggering natural resources, it had been all but hollowed out over the course of a long-ago century and its shell used to encase those considered the lowest of the low throughout all of the allied planets - political deviants and scholars that insisted that the society that was presented was by no means the only one that could exist, fraudsters and embezzlers, scientists who promised cures for the widespread fertility problems and failed to deliver alongside those who looked like they might actually put forward a viable solution and upset the status quo, providers and seekers of abortions-"

He could hear the puzzled frown in her voice when she asked her question. "What about those who committed violence? Murderers and the like?"

"Oh they abounded within the walls too. The very worst of the worst. Mass killers, serial rapists, there were even rumours of those who had resorted to cannibalism to avoid starvation and had retained their taste for the flesh of their own kind even when other food was freely available. Violent crimes were generally only punished to the degree of the Glasshouse if they affected the higher orders in some way. Or if the numbers or state of their victims were so outside the bounds of what the highers considered "normal" among the lowers as to be unable to be ignored. Some poor unfortunates had committed petty crimes only, but had been made an example of. Still more had been thrown in there for reasons unknown and left to rot, forgotten about and left to die by the decree of those with more influence and money than they. My people, almost all of them regardless of status, have the ability to sense thoughts and feelings. It tends to be a two way connection among mates in most instances, but in a place like that where the despair and grief and devastation is emanating from every living thing within its sphere, you can feel it. All of it. Every single moment of the day. The deprivation of the body is nothing compared to the assault upon the mind and spirit. It....I...." He broke off, and drew in a shaky breath. Her arms tightened around him, bringing him back to the moment and reassuring him with her very presence.

"If its too much-" she began.

"No!" he exclaimed, more forcefully than he had intended. "No," he repeated more softly. "I need to do this. And with you here, I know I can do just that."

He felt her nod of encouragement and acceptance. "Just know you can stop if you need to." Ezra exhaled deeply and resumed.

The cell he had been imprisoned in was basic in the extreme. A thin mattress on the floor with a thinner blanket on top of it. A bucket for his body's needs. All else were walls of white translucence - above, below and on all sides. The cubes of the cells were stacked, one on top of the other, one in front of the other, in a seemingly neverending formation that was only broken up by the narrowest of paths between them that allowed the mechanoid guards to patrol all day, every day, and deliver the occasional sustenance to the prisoners. Nothing was soundproofed and the howls of rage and madness and despair echoed throughout the hollow moon constantly, a white noise of anguish to assault the mind. Ezra could see shapes through the semi-transparency of the walls - the unceasing pacing of the person in the cube above, the writhing, twisting madness of the captive to his left as they hurled themselves fruitlessly against the reinforced walls. Sometimes they would make themselves bleed - headbutting the wall until a spray of red would erupt and the guards would attend, binding the prisoner for days at a time until they quieted sufficiently to be released. That neighbour was still more preferable to the one on the right who did nothing but weep. Day after day, hour after hour they would howl and sob and snuffle until Ezra wondered how they didn't die of dehydration. He shouted at them once, yelling at them to cease, to desist, to shut the FUCK up for once, adding his voice to the cacophony of insanity that pervaded the prison. He screamed at them until his voice gave out and he swore he could taste blood. But when his frustration and rage ebbed into exhaustion, the pitiful noises remained. It hadn't made him feel any better, nor had it made a jot of difference to the situation except to add to the swirling eddies of fear and pain and lunacy that came from every cell and coalesced to the oppression and animosity and anguish that soaked every atom of this place. He had curled up under his blanket and shed his own tears then, his heart breaking in the face of utter despair.

Time meant nothing within the Glasshouse. The lights were harsh and permanently on and emanated from each side of his cubed cell. There was never a moment of peace or quiet. Meal times were intermittent, he suspected that they did not even occur daily. He tried to mark time by monitoring the patrols, but they were so frequent as to be meaningless. He was forever watched, forever surrounded and yet forever alone. After a time he began to understand the incessant pacing, the headbutting. They just wanted to feel something and he too needed to know that he still existed and that what he was experiencing was real and tangible. It first became an escape, then a habit and then pure necessity to retreat into his mind, to reject his current circumstances and relieve his happiest times with Rien. He slept more frequently than he needed to and ate less frequently than he ought, not wanting to engage with this reality if it was all he was ever to know again.

And then, at some undefinable time after his incarceration, Ezra had a visitor.

He awoke to a new sound, a different kind of pounding than the one from his boisterous neighbour. It sounded almost like...knocking. Ezra pulled the thin, stinking blanket away from his face and squinted against the harshness of the light coming from all around. He sat up and blinked rapidly at the scene in front of him, trying to make sense of what his eyes were observing. The front of his cube, the side through which he could usually see the shadowy figures of his jailers and through which he received sustenance and empty buckets, was now somehow fully transparent. Standing there, flanked by two mechanoids and looking calmer than he had ever seen him before, was his Uncle. Ezra rubbed his eyes and shook his head, trying to dislodge the unwelcome vision that had no doubt been engendered by the deprivation of his body and the constant overstimulation of his mind. He was going mad. There was no other explanation for what he could see. His Uncle smirked unpleasantly.

"I see you're finally with the rats you were so desperate to betray us for," he said smugly. Ezra said nothing, but stood on wobbly legs and made his way shakily over to the now-clear side of his cube, placing his hands on the reinforced polycarbonate sheet to steady himself mentally as well as physically. His Uncle correctly interpreted the look on his face. "You are not mad. At least not yet. I truly do stand before you."

"Why?" croaked Ezra, his voice hoarse and rusty from disuse.

"To see you getting what you deserve," his Uncle said bluntly. "And to give you what news I can of the outcome of your actions. You failed, boy. Your ridiculous uprising failed. And we know all about your theft and fraud. Stealing from your parents is one thing, but from me? You really thought you could get away with it?!"

Ezra half smiled at his Uncle. "Have you come to kill me for that?"

His Uncle huffed a noise of disgruntlement. "No. Much as I would take pleasure in such an act, you will suffer far more through your incarceration. And if I am completely honest, there is a part of me that admires the rapacious audacity of thieving from me right under my nose. You really did grow some balls while you were away. I recouped my losses in part from your parents' anyway-"

"You'd beggar your own sister?" Ezra said disbelievingly.

"Nothing I do is any of your business, boy," his Uncle growled. "But that she birthed an insolent, disgusting whelp like you means some part of her is clearly deficient and the more I can distance myself from her the better. Besides," and here he bestowed a quite hideous grin upon Ezra, "I have recently come into a much larger sum than your parents could claim even before their reparations to me."

Ezra stayed silent, watching the slightly mad glint in his uncle's eyes. He still couldn't quite work out why he was here. To gloat, to rub Ezra's face in it, yes. But he wouldn't have made the trip here to this horrific place just for that. There had to be more to it. "Your little wife, boy," his uncle whispered, and Ezra turned cold at his tone. "She is alive and very well." A surge of relief flowed through Ezra and he let go of an anxiety he hadn't even realised he had been holding on to. One less bloodstain on his hands. Even though Rien had been the one to strike her, he had felt more than partially responsible for what had transpired. This time, his uncle mistook his expression. "Don't think it will lessen the charges against you once you come to trial," he lectured. "Murder might have been excused, had she not been a higher and fertile. But the fraud! The embezzlement! Those are unpardonable."

"Is she...well?" Ezra asked hesitantly. He hoped there had been no lasting damage from her head injury and while he agreed with Rien's assessment that she was part of the problem he still couldn't rid himself of the feeling that she didn't deserve the heartache they had dealt out. She was a pawn in the game, much as he had been once upon a time. For all the terrible things she might conceivably do in the future with her wealth and influence, that she was part of the madness of the upper echelons of society was not something she could help and he felt that she shouldn't be punished before she had actually done anything wrong.

"She is better than well" his Uncle said, and Ezra noted that a lecherous tone had joined the smugness in his voice. "She is pregnant." Ezra's mind whirled. How long had he been in here that she could marry again and be with child? Months, then, for a certainty. His Uncle was talking again and he tuned back into his words. "After the...unfortunate...death of my last wife I now have a new one. And I suppose have you to thank" he sneered. Ezra's skin goosepimpled with disgust. Surely not. Even he couldn't be that vile. "She was spoiled goods," his Uncle went on. "No one would accept her even though it was demonstrably proven that you had never had her. None of the respectable families wanted to be associated with the stink of your treachery. So I took her in, poor thing. Her father was really rather grateful to me. And now she's been successfully bred by a real man instead of some whimpering, simpering upstart."

Despite the lack of food in his stomach, Ezra found himself wanting to vomit. That poor girl. A pawn indeed. "I bet she wishes she WAS dead." The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and he braced himself for his Uncle to rage, to shout, to order the mechanoid guards to beat him to within an inch of his life. The predatory smile his Uncle gave him was somehow worse and far more worrying.

"There are some creatures in life that need to be taken care of. Those that crave structure and the guidance of someone stronger than they being in charge and leading their way. My wife is one such person, though all women fall into that category I have found. But you are also that kind of weakling, boy. And speaking of needing to be led, aren't you going to ask about your "valet"? Hmm? Don't you wonder what happened to the man you betrayed your kin for? Who tried to abandon you to take the fall?"

At the mention of Rien, Ezra felt as if he had taken a punch to the gut. The swirling guilt and sorrow and pain in his body was suffocating, refusing to allow him to draw a breath in. His Uncle could see the effect of his words and that triumphant little smirk that Ezra had the overwhelming desire to smack off his face returned. Indecision warred within him. He desperately wanted to know of Rien's whereabouts, of course. But if his Uncle knew then that meant...that meant....Ezra closed his eyes against the myriad of terrible ends that Rien could have come to. The need to know gnawed at him, burrowed into the very marrow of his bones and the words burst out of him before he could stop them. "What of him?"

Silence met the question and Ezra opened his eyes to see that same smirk upon his Uncle's face. His eyes were lit by self satisfaction and Ezra knew he had made a terrible mistake by showing his hand, by revealing that he truly had cared about Rien. Icy panic gripped his guts once more.

"The thing about you, Ezra, is that you never learn," his Uncle declared softly. Ezra was shocked. Not so much by what sounded very much like the beginnings of a lecture, but by the use of his name. He could not recall his Uncle ever using it before and the surprise of hearing it knocked his mind back into sharp wakefulness. He still didn't know what game his Uncle was playing, but he was suddenly very aware that he was walking a knife edge. That things could potentially get worse for him, worse even than incarceration in the Glasshouse. His Uncle spoke again, still in that same measured soft tone. "There is no real right or wrong. Those concepts are so subjective as to be meaningless. There are, however, opportunities. And if you choose not to take advantage of them when they present themselves then you will lose. Every time. I am here to offer you such an opportunity."

He could feel his mouth fall open, stood stupidly agape at his Uncle. An opportunity? From the person he despised above all others? From the person who had gotten him imprisoned in this hellhole in the first place? His anger flared, gathering the tatters of his broken pride within him and making it shining and whole for just a few brief moments. A few moments where he truly felt like Ezra van Ione once more. He drew himself up to his full height, the effect spoiled slightly by the way he swayed on the spot from dizziness caused by lack of sustenance. "You set me up to ask about my valet, yet never had any intention to furnish me with information. All you do, you do for your own gain and I do not trust you. I have never trusted you. I refuse your "opportunity"."

Ezra pushed himself heavily away from the clear side of his cell and began to walk slowly back to his mattress on the floor. He could hear the nasty smile in his Uncle's voice as he replied. "You see? Before I even set the terms of the deal you refuse to hear me, you refuse this opportunity to better your circumstances and your surroundings. I would say I'm disappointed, but I really couldn't give a kooka crap about you, boy. I knew you would react this way. You are too stupid to do otherwise." Ezra half collapsed on to his bedroll, hugging his knees against himself and pointedly staring at the wall away from his Uncle. He heard footsteps and the familiar whirring and clanking that accompanied the movements of the mechanoids before his Uncle spoke again, this time with a streak of cold anger touching his words. "You really have learned nothing. Tell me, has it never struck you as odd that somehow everything is always someone else's fault? Your parents, me, your wife, your lover? Its never down to you is it? No matter. A little more time here will teach you your new place in the world, will have you desperate to hear my voice again. But who knows if you will survive to do so?"

It could have been weeks, it could have been months. The crier to his right became silent one day and a while after that Ezra could see the mechanoids dragging something out of the cell before a new inmate was shoved in there. This one was a talker. Desperate, hushed pleas reached Ezra's ears, begging for him, for someone, for anyone to reply, to make them not feel so alone. Ezra could not make himself respond. They were all alone in here, and he doubted this person would have anything of interest for him to hear. When they got no replies from the cells around they began to shout their innocence to the world at large, defiantly and confidently stating that they would soon be free, that it was all a terrible mistake, that they couldn't keep them here forever. The weeping started up again not long after that, and Ezra felt oddly comforted by the familiar noise, even as the part of himself that still clung to sanity felt disgusted at his reactions. He had to get out of here, he knew. Else he would surely die in madness and sorrow like everyone else here. He had to take whatever opportunity his Uncle could present. And so when he returned, Ezra listened.

He listened to the bragging about how his Uncle knew he could break him, how weak Ezra was, how foolish, how he would die in poverty and pain within the Glasshouse or without and how his Uncle would take the greatest of pleasure in that knowledge and even more that he had been the cause of the just retribution. He listened to how his Uncle had lied to his parents - how he had informed them that Ezra had died in the failed uprising in the wharves and how his body had been desecrated as a traitor's ought to be before it had been flung into the sea to rot and bloat. He managed to keep his face carefully impassive as his Uncle finally revealed that they had caught up with Rien at the spaceport, had tortured him most hideously before his public execution, how he himself had looked into his eyes and seen nothing but fear and cowardice.

"As all of his ilk are craven," his Uncle concluded, sniffily. "As you are too, boy. If ever my son were to behave as you have, I would kill him myself."

Ezra felt the bile of rage reaching up his gullet and swallowed hard in a mouth made sore from dehydration. He kept his gaze carefully lowered as he replied in a soft, bland tone. "What of this opportunity you spoke of?"

"You can be free of this place, boy." His Uncle's words startled him and Ezra looked up hurriedly in disbelief. His Uncle's impassive face stared back at him, revealing nothing. "I can have you out of here in moments," he continued pulling a sheaf of official looking documents from within his longcoat pocket. "All you have to do is agree to three terms and sign here to that effect."

"And what are these terms?" Ezra asked, weariness warring with wariness in his voice.

"One, that you relinquish all claim to money, valuables and property held by the family as well as your family name. Two, that you never again attempt to contact or see any member of your family. I have told them you are dead and you will be dead to them in every conceivable way. Only I shall know the truth and believe me when I say that I have no desire to be associated with you by blood or any other means."

"Those terms are acceptable," said Ezra in a small, tight voice. It was better that his family believed him dead. With the uprising finished before it had ever really started, there was no way he would ever be accepted by them again anyway. Those bridges had been well and truly destroyed. "What is your last condition?"

"That you work for me," his Uncle replied, that smirk reappearing on his face. "I understand that you spent some time in the Pierpoint mines before you crawled back to your mother? Oh yes, I dug into your story, boy. And given that my pockets are far deeper than your own, I was able to procure the truth with little difficulty. A new substance has been discovered on a couple of far off moons in the furthest reaches of the seven systems. Aurelac. It is by all accounts incredibly difficult to obtain and thus much sought after and extremely valuable. You will be my own personal prospector. Everything, and I mean everything you procure shall be given over to me. In return I shall furnish you with transport, tools, anything you could possibly need to locate and extract this material, alongside food, clothing, and medical supplies. You shall receive no monetary recompense for obvious reasons. And you can live out your miserable chosen existence out of the way and out of trouble while working to pay me back for everything you ever took. Alternatively you can stay here to lose your mind and lose your life within these walls. It is entirely up to you."

"I agree," Ezra whispered as soon as his Uncle ceased speaking. "I agree to your terms and I shall sign your papers."

"I thought you might," his Uncle crowed, thrusting the documents into the hands of one of the mechanoid guards and striding away, triumphant.

Ezra closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath, once more grounding himself in the heady mix of the sea breeze and her scent as she clutched him a little tighter against her and murmured into his ear, her voice broken by sorrow for him. "You did not deserve this. Any of it. You are a good man, Ezra and you did not deserve what happened to you."

"I feel I did, little bird," he countered. "I stole from people - their lives, their hope through my falsehoods. Perhaps my penance was just."

She shook her head. "I cannot bring myself to agree. The man that you are now...I cannot imagine you ever deserving such a thing."

"I had to go through this to become the man I am now," he reminded her gently. "And I would not change a moment because all led me here. To you. And Kevva knows I could endure the same a thousand times over if I knew you were awaiting me at the end of my ordeal."

She kissed the shell of his ear and nuzzled her face softly against his. "I will always be here, my love," she replied, her voice deep and truthful. They sat in contented peace for a few moments, each feeling the heat of the other's love emanating from their very souls. Then she spoke again. "I have to ask - and its something I've meant to ask before and never found a good time to - but what does that mean?" She pointed at the screen to where he had mentioned Kevva's name. "It comes up as "translation unavailable" every time you say it."

"It is the name of a deity where I am from...the deity really, though some believe in multiple gods and others believe in none. I myself lean toward the latter, though since our encounter I have begun to question whether in fact divine intervention played a part in what appears to be our fated meeting. Kevva." He over pronounced the last word so that she could replicate it.

"Keh-vah,"she enunciated back to him, the vowels sounding harsh and clipped in her accent.

He smiled at the sound of his language from her tongue and kissed over the back of her hand before continuing. "I spoke to Kevva many times over the years that followed. Sometimes to pray, more often to curse. My Uncle was as good as his word, which surprised me in all honesty. I had expected to be deposited on a faraway moon and left to die and yet still found that idea preferable to the one of perishing within the Glasshouse. I suppose I should not have underestimated the depths of his greed. I was duly provided with the basic materials to perform my prospecting and mining and to survive whilst doing so, but little else. I sent back everything I was able to extract as instructed and found a measure of peace that I had been missing for many years. Life was hard, yes - backbreaking work and strict rations and working in all weathers. But I was alone and I found myself beginning to take joy in the peace that brought. When my outward functions were repetitive and predictable it allowed me to think my own thoughts without intrusion, begin to build myself back up from the mess of my previous life. Aurelac was only found within forested terrain and the greenery too helped to soothe my soul, bring me back to myself. Or the new version of myself that I began to embrace, away from the trappings of my family and all the destruction both they and I had wrought. It couldn't last. Peace seldom does. Soon there was an influx, a great avalanche of prospectors all wishing to mine as I did. Intitally there was enough space that we did not encroach on each other's operations. But there is always someone who wants something for nothing, and very soon brigands discovered that they could just as easily kill and rob those who had actually laboured for the gems and achieve the same wealth with minimal effort. I suppose it was the circle of consequence coming back to me, after all I had done much the same to others in my younger days. My uncle began to send the occasional hired "companion" - they were there to protect his aurelac of course, and once more I found myself a killer, this time to protect that which was most precious to me - my freedom."

He shifted, turning so that he was facing her instead and clasped her hand again as he began to resume his story, slipping his fingers between hers and squeezing gently. "It was then that I met Cee. An accidental encounter, partially similar to our own now that I think on it. At this time I was travelling with a hulking brute who referred to himself only as "Number Two". While he was extremely blessed with strength and stamina, he was less gifted with common sense and he managed to fry the compressors in our ship-to-moon transport as we landed on a place known only as The Green. We began to think we were stuck until we came across another prospector - Damon. I could tell he was contemptible as soon as I laid eyes on him and he proved my gut correct when he tried to rob us of our entire harvest with his daughter - Cee - as his backup. Number Two shot him, and Damon shot right back. Only Damon's aim was truer and Number Two died immediately. I put Cee's father out of his misery - he would have gone slowly and painfully had I not intervened. The girl didn't see it that way, unsurprisingly. Perhaps I should have been somewhat kinder and performed the mercy when she was not present, but I allowed my anger at Damon's actions to get the better of me. When I tried to commandeer Cee's own lander to get us off the moon she shot me in my arm. Right in the meat of the bicep. I attempted to treat it, but the air on that particular moon was so noxious that the flesh surrounding the wound began to die almost immediately. She took me prisoner and during that time we got to know each other she and I. It had been a long time since I had met someone so self possessed and smart. She needed someone to protect her from the darker face of the seven systems - something her father seemed to have been incredibly bad at - and I needed someone to show me that it wasn't pointless to strive for dreams and goodness and to be better, though I didn't realise that at first. She helped me to be less cynical, allowed me to be softer without it feeling like failing."

She reached for his face and stroked the small smile that had appeared there, mirroring it with one of her own. "Its wonderful when that happens isn't it?" she asked meaningfully and his face split into a true grin as he took her implication.

"It is decidedly so, my love. If I have given you that gift as it was given to me, I can ask for no greater joy." He kissed her fingers softly before continuing. "As I believe I mentioned before, she saved my life when she took my arm. We escaped that Kevva-forsaken place and went out into the seven systems. She was already well on her way to knowing how to prospect and mine, but I taught her all I knew and she soon surpassed the skill I had possessed with both arms. But the aurelac was drying up, supply was becoming more and more limited, and I was no longer at peace with the notion of dying in the course of fulfilling the contract with my Uncle. I had Cee to think of now, I had her to take care of. There had never been any caveats within the contract I had signed with regards to this particular turn of events. Either my Uncle had assumed the aurelac would not run out, or he had thought I would die before it did. Regardless, I had no choice but to break the terms I had agreed upon. Cee and I roamed, we travelled far and wide attempting to keep our heads above water. But eventually, inevitably, the darkness caught up with us. We ended up on a planet called Padorix - a dustbowl that was rumoured to contain precious ore in abundance. We were just desperate enough to chase these whispers, and of course it came to nothing. We had worked all night and as she fell asleep by the light of the dawn's first rays I suddenly realised what I had to do. It all became so...simple. The next time we made planetfall somewhere with a big enough settlement, I contacted my parents, and that evening I visited a pharmacy and reverted to my old ways. I drugged Cee and then I went home for the last time. On this occasion I was apprehended and arrested the instant the ship landed - my uncle's paid thugs physically held me as Cee was turned over to my parents at their insistence. I had told them that she was my daughter you see. And they so desperately wanted to believe it was true that they demanded they take custody of her. It was the only time I had ever seen my mother stand up to her brother and the only time I ever saw my father take her side over his. I was so proud of them in that moment. And after that my last incarceration, my trial and conviction, my encasement in that pod that was supposed to be my eternal resting place. And then you my love. All I could ever want or need. My life eternal."

She shifted forward so she was on her knees beside his seated form. "And then you, my love," she echoed. "You may not need to hear this, but I need to say it nonetheless. Nothing you have told me has changed my feelings about you in a negative way .In fact, I have so much admiration for your tenacity and your ability to put yourself back together after you were broken in so many ways. I love you. I love the man you are. And all of those things your Uncle said - you know they aren't true, don't you? You are strong, and brave, and intelligent and wonderful. And you overcame everything. Every heartbreak. Every cruelty. And I'm so glad that you did and that you found me. In the whole universe, you found me."

"I feel that you found me, little bird," he replied softly. "Somehow you called to me across the stars and I was drawn to you. You welcomed me into your home, your life, with open arms and I am so grateful that you did. Thank Kevva above that you are so generous, so kind, and so wild of spirit that you took a chance on a half drowned, half starved man."

She leaned forward and pressed her lips softly against his. "How could I do anything else?" she murmured. "When you inspire such feelings in me that I thought were dead and gone?" Her kiss deepened, he could feel how desperately she wanted to know him, to share him, and that same desperation clawed at his heart as he slipped his hand under her clothes to brush against the soft, bare skin of her back. She immediately straddled him, pressing her body against his strongly, almost aggressively with how firmly she was moving. Her mouth never left his, her kisses bruising in their intensity and he felt himself begin to harden as he felt the heat of her over him even through their clothes.

She drew back, her mouth swollen with kisses she had given and those yet to come and her eyes were more fiery and more etherally beautiful than a supernova as she suddenly stood, pulling him up with her by the hand as she led him from the room.

Next chapter

#starman ezra #ezra x ofc #ezra prospect x ofc #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect fanfic #ezra prospect angst #ezra prospect fluff #ezra prospect soulmate au

[pedroshotwifey]

By Character:

Joel Miller

Din Djarin

Frankie "Catfish" Morales

Jack "Whiskey" Daniels

Ezra (Prospect)

Javier Peña

Dave York

Marcus Pike

Max Lord

Javi Gutierrez

Marcus Moreno

Dieter Bravo

Oberyn Martell

Series:

Favorite Bounty Din Djarin x f!reader - All it takes is a beskar-covered bounty hunter and his little green child to transform your life completely. Settling into life on the Razor Crest is easy enough, but what happens once the tension between you and the Mandalorian gets to be too much? Will you be able to handle the conflict that keeps getting thrown your way? (47.8k ongoing)

To the Flame Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader - It doesn't take much for you to fall in love with the objectively perfect, older man from your home town. He easily sweeps you off your feet, and helps you to remember what happiness feels like until you think he's truly all you'll ever need in life. What happens though, once he tethers you down and starts to change before you have a chance to realize what's happening? (40.6k ongoing) DDDNE

Other Collections:

Christmas Countdown Collection A series of one shots containing a mix of fluff, angst, smut, or a mix of all three! (Complete)

Requested fics (my ask box is always open!) A mix of delicious fics resulting from delicious requests

#fan fiction #pedro pascal #ao3 #the mandalorian #smut #dinluke #bobadin #fic rec #masterlist #jack whiskey daniels #ezra prospect #joel miller #dieter bravo #javier peña #javier pena x reader #dieter x reader #ezra smut #pedro pascal characters #frankie morales #dave york #marcus pike #marcus moreno #dark fic #fic recs #oscar isaac #poe dameron #dark pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #friends of juicy collective

[sp00kymulderr]

Pairing: Ezra x reader

Warnings: Angst, injury detail, blood mention, vague ending (happy or not is up to you).

Word Count: 2k

A/N: For my Pedrostories Secret Santa giftee @djarinmuse - happy holidays! I hope you don't mind that this is completely un-festive and I took some liberties with prompts, but I'm excited that I got to write my favourite space man in an introspective, angsty situation so thank you! I hope you like the fic! To follow for fic updates only go to @sp00kyupdates​ or see taglist details on my masterlist. Header by me. Credit to banner maker.

It is impossible to ignore the abundance of fear in his chest.

The way his heart is beating almost out of it, the abject horror of the reminder that you had been here just moments ago when he sees the empty campsite with a past presence still lingering warm and your scent still in the air. That perfume you’d found on another nameless planet on another forgotten job. His heart suddenly ripping in halves in a way he had never known it could do, because that scent is fading, and you aren’t here.

Your tatty sleeping bag of a bed is empty, no sign of life in the small perimeter you together call a home while you do yet another standard of grunt work for yet another corporation who would never even know your names. 

Ezra had known the place wasn’t safe. Reports from the surface that he’d warily read had told him as much but you’d both agreed the credits were too good to pass up. That you’d keep each other safe.

You’d keep each other safe.

Kevva, what had he done? Why had he felt the need to leave you alone for those few moments that suddenly felt far, far too long.

It wasn’t the first time this had happened, prospecting being a famously a dangerous profession but especially now when the sites were drying up, planets dug to their end, the precious aurelac gems becoming rarer and rarer. The last time…Ezra hesitates to think of how he’d seen his partner killed for nothing more than a few meagre stones and Ezra had done nothing to help. 

Nothing but ran and protected the things that were his. He was inherently not a good man.

He should run now. Take the remaining spoils of the dig and find his way to safety like always.

He should run.

Run.

But for you. For this partnership…

The thought of turning away makes his chest tighten – for a man who felt himself slipping from humanity for so much of his life he was now becoming alive with it. In him now he could barely fathom the thought of you being gone - you who has chosen to partner up with him for whatever unknown reason. You who had given him a reality beyond just drifting from place to place, space to space, despite his own nature.

No one had seen anything more in him ever since he was a boy. That was the reality of growing up a rock-hopper, adrift through all his life, but then you came and offered him this partnership and showed him that perhaps there was something else in him.

That perhaps he was a better man than he’d ever thought.

With a determined breath, Ezra pulls himself from the shock of your empty campsite and makes a decision, pushing against his own nature. He will be the man you see him as. No running. Ready to do whatever it takes to make you safe, to make sure that the same fate that had befallen his last partner would never come to you. He had to make sure.

Searching around the area with a trained eye with tracking skills picked up through the cycles of dangerous living, Ezra’s mind wanders to the stories you had shared with him of the places you had been and the people you had met. You were a survivor but more than that. You lived. Your resilience was always the thing that those stories reminded him of the most; your ability to adapt. Of course, you can handle yourself. But every part of him shakes with the need to make sure of your safety, keep you alive…he can’t let you be anything else.

Ezra feels overcome with need to be a better man. The partner you deserve. You had always been more of a partner than he ever deserved.

Grabbing the pistol that had been haphazardly strewn, likely in your struggle though he tries not to think of that, he steels himself to follow the minimal signs of the direction you may have taken. Bravery was in truth never his strong suit. He was never taught to live bravely; his life has always always been about self-preservation and so little else. Growing without family, without a name, he hadn’t thought to care for anyone else – not the way you did. Not the way you softened edges and crawled into small places in people to make them more.

He starts walking slowly, every step sending surges of that cold fear through his veins; the fear of the unknown, the fear of what he might find. He doesn’t want to find what he fears, but he has to. He can’t turn back now. He can’t. As Ezra walks his eyes keep darting back and forth, searching for any sign of life and any sign of you. He keeps his pistol ready, just in case.

---

You're vaguely aware that you've been left to bleed for some gems so small the credits would barely cover a month of ship maintenance let alone a comfortable life. It makes you laugh a little, the absurdity of it. The men had left you badly hurt; no mercy of peace afforded to you but thankfully also no threat of worse than death was made to you.

They must have been watching. They must have been waiting for Ezra to leave, determining that he was the threat. The danger.

People often make that judgment of him.

You sigh a shaky, weak thing that bubbles in pain at the thought of the man, your partner, thrumming in your head. He'd be looking for you. Of course he would. His heart was in the right place always, even when he believed his mind not to be. You'd been prospecting together for enough cycles to know that of him, and more too.

It occurs you might die here, but kevva were you lucky to know more of the starlit man who'd made his home in your life over this time. That would be your biggest regret, never having known him more - never having seen his soul in truly the way it deserved to be seen. Silly as it was you'd fantasised time and again about seeing him safe and warm and happy in ways that you knew Ezra has never been. He deserves a life more than the one he has had to live.

Your only wish now if he doesn't find you, is that he gets that.

Truthfully Ezra had been something unusual for you, a gem in his own way, so much more thrilling than those amber aurelac pieces you'd both made a muddy career of picking. A rarer and more precious thing, all the more because he did not seem to see that in himself. A man with starlight and shine, with wit and verbosity and an unending supply of humanity despite the things he'd seen.

You'd like to see him again, at least once more. The darkening sky and the blood on your suit makes you think that likelihood is minimal. He'd be better off not finding you, perhaps.

Your breath heaves once, twice, a small wheeze as you experiment with moving. A sharp pain interjects your attempt, causing you to gasp out and hold on to the wound on your side. Something in you may be broken.

This wasn't the way to go.

---

The first sign of you after what feels like trudging miles watching the damp forest ground, is the scrap of distinctive material from your suit. It's a concern but also a relief, to see something of you here where all else this place feels so suddenly completely uninhabited.

You must have made some kind of fight here, Ezra notes. There's footprints in the mud and a couple droplets of ruby red he can't acknowledge yet. 

Not yours, not yours.

Ezra knows both sides of this. He's been the one to take unsuspecting explorers and prospectors and drain them for everything they're worth. He's done this to others - left their partners and families to live in pain and regret and he's never thought a lot about who he might have maimed and murdered in the name of survival.

It makes him sick now. Sick at himself and at the world he's always known. You do not deserve this. Maybe they did not deserve what he did either. Maybe he is monstrous in even worse ways than he already knew. Maybe he shouldn't find you, so that he doesn't have to face the reality of what he is through what someone else may have done to you.

He walks silent as possible, careful slip of boots on the ground so as not to disturb anyone or thing that could be close. He makes his way through a thicket of shrubs and rounds a large tree.

And there he stops.. And holds in the breath he was about to let out.

There you are. Crumpled and shivering.

Alive.

Alive, alive, alive.

And yet...you could barely be, the way you were breathing. What was he seeing? What were you clutching at that made you groan and your eyes flutter in pain? He couldn't see it fully until stepping closer.

Broken. Damaged. Drained. Not the you he knew. Not the you he hoped to see. This you is some other.

Ezra murmurs your name. A part of him thinks that this is the time he runs. You won't make it and you shouldn't have to see him when your breath leaves you.

Part of him, a part of him that used to feel natural as the rain but now he hates. He thinks about going after those who did this to you but he cannot decide if that is to exact revenge or to take back to the stolen aurelac and leave for the pod.

"Ezra" you say, voice quieter than he has ever heard it, and the weak tone pulls him from his treacherous thoughts and back to reality. You are alive.

You are alive, and that means he must stay the person you see him as at least until you are no longer with him anymore.

"Ez..." you repeat again, and the pitiful sound springs him back in to action like a shot. The field kit in his pack isn't made for this kind of work, he quickly realises, but he can at least try to patch you up before things get worse for you out here.

"Kevva...you..." He's lost for words, for once in his life.

"Stay awake" is all he mutters as he crouches beside you and pulls out the liquid bandage and antiseptic shot.

"Easier said than done" you murmur back, opening eyes up to him.

Ezra sees it in your eyes. Stardust…your eyes were always like the sparkle of stardust and even dull like now it takes his breath away.

“I…I…” Ezra shakes his head. “If only I’d got here sooner. Should’ve never…”

You hiss as he presses the bandaging to your side, too dizzy from the feeling to tell if the bleeding has dissipated at all yet.

“Knew you’d come” You say in that soft, caring way you always have for him. For some reason he may never know now.

“I didn’t- “ Ezra chokes out. Didn’t know if I’d come. Thought about leaving you. The words ache heavy on his tongue, unable to utter them.

“You’re here” Is all you utter before laying your head back, that sickly swirl of dizziness getting worse suddenly.

He is here. You’re right. He’s here and in your light every instinct he’s ever had to preserve his own livelihood over anything else fades away just like always. A person who makes him a better man was never someone Ezra imagined knowing. A warm soul to help reignite his own that had gone cold long ago. It’s you. 

It’s you and him. 

It’s a string of fate that has tied you two together for longer than you’ve even known each other.

“Yes, stardust” Ezra finally mutters, and leans down to rest his forehead against yours. 

He’s got you. For as long as he can.

“I’m here”

#pedrostoriesgift23 #pedrostories #ezra prospect x reader #pedro pascal character fic

[aliorsboxostuff]

MALE!READER WRITING REQUESTS (TEMP) CLOSED !

Come check out my works bellow!

I've seen how devastatingly little male!reader fics are in my big fandoms, and as a gay man i feel like i should provide us with said fics! Which is why I'm opening my ask box for any and all male!readers and gn!readers requests! (Including anon requests!)

RULES:

I WON'T ACCEPT FEMALE!READER FICS REQUESTS. I’m a trans-masc genderfluid, so male!Readers or gn!Readers are the ones that I usually write and am comfortable with. It’s hard looking for male!reader fics, especially in female-dominated fandoms, that's why I'm opening requests for any and all sad and touch-starved dudes out there! If these don't fit your preferences then you are free to leave, and if you're a female user/reader entering my blog, I hope you remain respectful about the fics I write or get requests for, thank you.

NOTE: I NEVER USE ANY FORM OF Y/N IN MY FICS. I find them kind of weird for me to write so my fics are mostly 1st Person POV. I write most of my fics based off on Fixations that may last a couple weeks, months, years. If you've requested something but havent seen the fic, that might be because i've lost interest!

What i will write:

male!reader

gender-neutral reader

Ftm! Reader

Smut 

Platonic or Romantic relationships

angst

fluff

comfort

headcanons

nsfw alphabets

drabbles

Series

Age gap (CHARACTERS MUST BE OVER THE AGE OF 19)

What I Won't write:

female!reader

underage characters (anyone under 17)

necrophilia

real people

pedophilia

Omorashi

age play

rape/non-con

incest

offensive/harmful things

THE CHARACTER LIST! Or, characters I will definitely write about if requested!

PEDRO PASCAL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE

Ezra (prospect)

Joel Miller

Javi Gutierrez

Javier Peña

Frankie Morales

Whiskey (Kingsman)

Tim Rockford (yes from the Ad)

TOP GUN 86’ & TOP GUN: MAVERICK

Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw

MARVEL & XMCU

Miguel O'hara (ATSV)

Hobie Brown (Platonic/fluff only)

Pavitr Prabhakar (Platonic/fluff only)

Kurt Wagner (xmcu)

Loki Laufeyson

Bucky Barnes

Moon Knight System

Deadpool

Daredevil

Eddie and Venom (They come as a pair)

BULLET TRAIN

Tangerine

Ladybug

Jujutsu Kaisen

Satoru Gojo

Nanami Kento

Higuruma Hiromi

Ryoumen Sukuna

Yuuji Itadori (Fluff)

Toge Inumaki (Fluff)

DETROIT: BECOME HUMAN

Connor (RK800)

Nines (RK900)

COD MODERN WARFARE II

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

John 'Soap' Mactavish

König

HONORABLE MENTIONS

Chris Knight (Real Genius)

Hannibal (NBC)

The Corinthian (Netflix Sandman)

Leon S. Kennedy (RE4 Remake)

Luis Serra (RE4 Remake)

Understand that these are all works of fiction; I am perfectly fine with writing for topics including mafias, mobs, murder, organized crime, war, mental illness, abuse, etc.; but please do not romanticize them in any way. Reading it is fine; please don't romanticize them in your head.

If any of this provided information may seem confusing or have any questions, feel free to drop a DM and I will explain further! I will try to post fic requests as regularly and as fast as I can!

For refrence, these are fics i've written and uploaded to my AO3!

Steven Grant/Male Reader fluff

XMEN Family Pride Fic

Steven Grant/Male Reader Smut #1

Steven Grant/Male Reader Smut #2

Deadpool/Male Reader Fluff Confession

Deadpool/Ftm Reader Smut

Robert 'Bob' Floyd/Male Reader Fluff

Robert 'Bob' Floyd/Male Reader sunshine x grumpy

Tangerine/Male Reader Fluff/Angst Mature

Tangerine/Male Reader Mature

Tangerine/Male Reader (Escort Fic) Mature

Tangerine/NB Reader Teen&Up

Tangerine/Gender-Fluid Reader (Coming out fic)

Francisco "Catfish" Morales/Husband Reader

Joel Miller/Ftm Reader & Ellie Fluff

Joel Miller & Kid Reader

Joel Miller/Ftm Reader & Tess Fluff a bit Angst

Miguel O'hara/Male Reader Fluff

Miguel O'hara/Male Reader Spicy Fluff

Miguel O'hara/Male&GN Reader Spicy Fluff

Miguel O'hara/Male&GN Reader Fluff slight Angst

Din Djarin/Boyfriend Reader Smut

And the Short Fics/Drabbles on Tumblr!

Pulse (Tangerine/M!reader)

Deep Dive (Namor/M!reader)

Hold Tight (Tangerine/gn Reader)

Ner Mesh'la (Din Djarin/Male Reader)

Trinkets (Kurt Wagner/Gender-fluid Reader)

"Anythin' you wanna be." (Hobie Brown & Ftm Reader)

Little Nap! (Meows Morales Drabble)

Anyone that starts an argument about me writing exclusively for men and gender neutrals alike will get a very passive-aggressive and sarcastic reply to your request. There is an abundance of female!readers fics and writers who provide them; I am just here for people that takes a whole day searching for good male!reader fics. IF you do start an unnecessary rant about my fics or my writing preferences at a given moment; I’ve been in fandom spaces for the last 7 years of my life and run on pure manic adrenaline, I will throw hands. 

Without further ado, REBLOG TO TELL ALL DUDES! I OPEN MY FLOOD GATES! WELCOME ALL MALE!READER REQUESTS!

#male reader #x male reader #gender neutral reader #writing requests #for my dudes and no genders ! #robert bob floyd x male! eader #robert bob floyd x gn!reader #jake hangman x male reader #jake hangman x gn!reader #bradley rooster x male reader #kurt wagner x male reader #loki laufeyson x male reader #bucky barnes x male reader #moon knight system x male reader #deadpool x male reader #symbrock x male reader #tangerine x male reader #ladybug x male reader #hannibal x male reader #ezra prospect x m!reader #joel miller x male reader #agent whiskey x male reader #javi gutierrez x male reader #leon s kennedy x male reader #luis serra x male reader #Gojo x male reader #Satoru x male reader #sukuna x male reader #higuruma x male reader #nanami x male reader

[beskarandblasters]

Din Djarin Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Header by @dinsdjrn

All fics are Din Djarin x F!Reader unless stated otherwise.

Individual warnings are listed at the beginning of each fic! But each fic is labeled either with smut, fluff, and/or angst.

Drabbles (Less than 1k words):

Home - fluff

Living "Waters" of Mandalore - smut

Sacrilegious - smut

Uncut - smut

Grasp & Tug - smut

Bare It All - fluff

His Living Fleshlight - smut

Guilty as Sin - smut

One Shots (1k+ words):

No One Else - smut

Tolerate It • Part two: Everything Has Changed - smut, fluff, angst

Hello Neighbor - smut, fluff

Looking Out For You - smut

Ride His Thigh into the Sunset - smut

Something Different - smut

Don’t Be Scared - smut, fluff

Your New Favorite Seat - smut

Wherever You Stray, I Follow - smut, fluff, angst

Carry My Warriors - smut

Who Do You Belong To? - smut

That Should Be Me - smut, angst

I Can See You - smut

Breaking in the New House - smut, fluff

I Know Places - smut, fluff, angst

A Good Friend to Have - smut

Back For More - part two for A Good Friend to Have - smut

Show Her “The Way” To Behave - smut

Tell Me How it’s Lookin’, Babe - smut

Oral Fixation - smut

You done? - smut

Good Girls Are Quiet - smut

Din’s First Christmas - smut, fluff, angst

Release Your Inhibitions - smut, fluff

Consummating the Riduurok - smut, fluff

Clean Up Your Act - smut

Voyeuristic Tendencies - featuring Ezra from Prospect! - smut

You’ve Been a Bad Girl - smut

A Touch So Innocent - smut

Repent Your Sins - smut

The Gunslinger & The Mandalorian - featuring Abby Anderson from The Last Of Us - smut

Punish Me, Officer Djarin - smut

Enchanted to Meet You - smut

Immortal By Design - smut, angst

Caught in 4k - smut

Packin’ (In More Ways Than One) - smut

Series:

What Happens on Coruscant, Stays on Coruscant - featuring Cassian Andor and Poe Dameron! - complete

Me and My Husband - complete

Apotheosis - complete

Was it all a dream? - complete

Stonecatcher - ongoing

Crack fics:

“Din”scord Kitten - smut

#din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin fanfic #the mandalorian #mandalorian fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #mando x reader #mando x you #mando x f!reader