#ezra prospect fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

paisley-print · 2 years

Text

Rating: 18+

Characters: Agent Whiskey x Reader X Ezra

This is a sequel to the MIDNIGHT Series

Rated TV MA.

Heavy trigger warning. Infidelity, pregnancy, nausea, feeding tube.

Not: This is 17 pages besties. It is a beast of a chapter. Please reblog and or comment! I really appreciate it! IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED PLEASE FILL OUT MY TAG SHEET. Tag List Google Form

Enjoy!Tag List: @just-here-for-the-moment @sherala007 @jediknight122 @pintsizemama @kenbechillin @elegantduckturtle @hearttbreak @tintinn16 @showbuckysomelove @somenerdyuser @kesskirata @littlemisspascal @athalien @spideysimpossiblegirl @littlemisspascal @sheresh0y @pjkimrn @i-ship-it-ironically @fictitious-little-stitious @curiouskeyboard @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @murdersheghostwrote @fictitious-little-stitious @voteforpedro09 @greeneyedblondie44 @feel-it-on-the-way-home13 @galaxyofmando @kravitzwhore @solemnlyswearss @gooddaykate @sherala007 @aliwritesfic @athalien @amneris21 @manuymesut @toxicfrankenstein @deadhumourist@damnyoupedro @harriedandharassed @hauntedmama

Jack was sitting in his office, staring out the window at the mountains in the distance with an expressionless gaze. He had just gotten back from an extended Statesman trip that had left him bruised in several places and shaken from the time change. His right shoulder felt like a tentacled creature had taken hold of it and snaked its way around his back, its arms reaching to encompass his neck and squeeze a tight band around his forehead. His eyes felt like they could simply pop out of his skull at any moment.

He was getting too old to do trips like this, too slow in his draw, too oblivious to subtle sounds and sights. Why not leave it to the new recruits? They seemed more than eager to reenact their James Bond fantasies, traipsing across the globe with shiny guns and fancy suits. Jack was tired, and the near constant threat of death worried him more now than ever. The baby had made him reassess his values as of late, plus he had just gotten Emily back… he wasn’t about to leave her in this new world completely alone.

As if summoned by some telepathic force, Emily’s voice floated down from upstairs. The main bedroom was positioned over his office. The water of the shower had been running just moments before. Jack set aside the file he was holding and made his way up the stairs to the main bedroom of the house.

Emily was standing at the sink, the fog from her shower clinging to the mirrors and creating a cloud of steam that floated lazily out and into the rest of the room. Jack sat on the bed, watching his wife lean over the side of the counter in order to apply mascara with an expert-like precision. She had one towel wrapped around her torso and the other done up in her long brown hair.

The glow of the lights made him feel like gagging. He turned his head, looking down at the grey Persian carpet.

“I was wondering if you could help me zip this up?” Emily asked, bounding into the closet. When she emerged again, she had on a pair of whitewashed jeans and was holding a corset crop top up against her breasts.

She turned her back to him so he could pull the zipper of the garment.

“Where are you off to?” He asked, the sound of his own voice coming down on his head with the force of a well-swung baseball bat.

“Going out dancing with Anna and Ashley,” Emily responded.

His two nieces. She was the same age as they were. “I’m glad you are going out but-”

“But what?” Emily asked.

“I just got back. I thought we would spend a little time together, is all.”

“All I do is spend time in this fucking house, Jack, spend time with you. God forbid I try to live a little.” Emily said.

Jack drew in a slow breath, bringing a hand up to squeeze the bridge of his nose. He did not feel physically well enough to engage in a debate he knew he would never win.

“I need cash. Everything is super expensive nowadays.”

Jack sighed, reaching into the interior of his jacket pocket to pull out his wallet and hand it over to her. She pulled out various bills. He didn’t know how much, folded them, placed them in her own pocket and tossed the wallet on the bed.

“When will you be back?” Jack asked, pulling off his suit jacket with some effort.

“Whenever I get back,” Emily said, shrugging.

“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you, sweetheart?”

“I’ve said everything I’ve needed to say Jack, you’re just choosing not to listen.”

“I am doing everything in my power to help you. I don’t know what more you want from me.”

Jack knew what Emily was feeling, and he empathized with her to a certain point. Losing everything in the blink of an eye was a feeling he knew all too well, and he had to do it alone. Emily at least had family around, loved ones that could soften the blow. Still, she wasn’t happy. Every time Jack mentioned you or the baby, Emily would get visibly angry and take jabs at both you and him. She felt shut out of such an intimate part of his life and jealous because that was supposed to be her.

Jack had to put his foot down when it came to converting the spare bedroom into a nursery. If Emily had had it her way, it would stay a guest bedroom, and they would allot full custody to you so she would never have to see the bastard child at all. Jack understood that it felt like a betrayal.

To her, this situation stung with the same severity it would have had cheated and had his own love child. Ironically, that was how Jack had felt too at times. He did not regret what the two of you had, yet he did not want to disappoint her.

Still, he disappointed her every day in ways entirely out of his control. He could not go back in time and erase all the flings had clung onto for years as his only source of intimacy. All the women he had slept in a fruitless attempt to feel less alone. Even if spent most of those encounters pretending he was in the throes of passion with her, rather than some nameless hook up he had met at a bar.

He could not fix the ways in which time had impacted his body. The look of disgust that passed Emily’s face whenever she noticed a new flaw never ceased to dismantle every ounce of confidence he had. He knew that she hated his greying hair, facial wrinkles, and less than toned midsection.

The times they had attempted any sort of intimacy mostly ended in awkward disappointment. Jack would become too nervous to perform, doubting both his looks and her pleasure in the activity at all. Plus, he was too self-conscious to keep the pills he used to use around the house, in fear she could find them.

She never initiated, but rather begrudgingly obliged and laid underneath him, as still and emotionless as a doll. He would walk away from those encounters feeling entirely disgusted with himself. He never initiated anymore and the two of them had only successfully slept together just once, that first night, months ago.

Jack didn’t mind not having sex as long as it meant that Emily was happy. All he wanted, all he ever wanted, was for her to be happy. Lack of intimacy was a small price to pay for her satisfaction.

“It’s like you have this whole other life without me,” Emily confessed. “Like I am some concubine shut up in this house, whose only function in your life is to be your companion.”

Jack stayed silent, listening. “How do you suppose I fix this situation then?”

Emily turned to him, pausing. “I want a baby shower.”

Jack’s brown knit in confusion. He was not expecting that response.

Upon seeing his confused face, Emily continued. “So I can feel like I have a purpose in this family. It’s not just going to be your baby, it’s going to be our baby when it’s here with us.”

Jack was speechless. Emily’s newfound interest in caring for the baby pleased him, but he was unsure of how you would react. Emily was right… the child would technically have three parents as soon as it was born...

“We can invite your friends and family -” Emily began.

“But sugar,” Jack said, trending carefully. “I’m not sure ‘y/n’ would - I mean - I could ask her, but I doubt she would want to come to somethin’ like that.”

Emily visibly soured at your name. “It’s not necessary to invite her. It’s better we don’t.”

Jack reached up, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand in an attempt to soothe the tension. “Sugar I don’t-”

“She can throw her own baby shower if she’d like. I wouldn’t expect her to invite me, and I would certainly not be offended. It’s as if we had a surrogate. We wouldn’t invite them, would we?”

Jack felt a momentary rise of anger well within him, but it fizzled out as fast as it had sparked. He could see where she was coming from, but you were not a simple surrogate. He knew when he entered into this that navigating the marriage and the pregnancy would require a less than traditional approach. What was right and wrong were often clouded in grey… this was one of those times.

He wanted to afford his grieving wife a chance to feel a part of his family, her family, and yet he did not want to banish you to the sidelines anymore than he already had. It was an impossible situation - not helped along by the headache that made his brain feel stuffed with cotton.

“Fine,” Jack said, “we can talk about planning something soon.”

A smile grew on Emily’s face. She took up her purse from the bathroom counter, bound over to him, and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Thank you, I love you,” she smiled.

“I love you too, darlin’” Jack said, returning the smile.

You sat in the exam room of the OBGYN, checking your phone for the sixth time. Jack had to miss the last appointment because he was on one of his frequent work trips, and now he was nearing ten minutes late for this one. When you first started dating Jack, you enjoyed the mystery that surrounded his employment and the demands of the job… you had found it rather exciting. But now, almost four years on, Statesman had become the very bane of your existence. It would be so easy for you to go to the media and spill everything you knew, or be bought by a foreign government and give them intel as a spy… that thought was a rather nice one in fact, as it would be a giant fuck you to both Statesman and Jack. However, you knew you wouldn’t be able to, not without monumental repercussions.

You wouldn't be surprised if the NDA you signed held a clause that stated something along the lines of “if you hand over any of your knowledge of Statesman to the public, you will be terminated via a colt revolver welding sharpshooter in a cowboy hat.”

Plus, any dealing with foreign government would just make you and the baby a potential target. You didn’t feel like getting your toenails ripped out by some opposing secret agency, no matter how much you wanted to see Statesmen go down.

The door to the exam room burst open. Jack was wearing his usual work attire, wonderfully tailored suit, cowboy hat and glasses. Statesman did do one thing right at least, and that was uniforms.

“Hey” Jack said, slightly out of breath.

“You gonna take those things off or you plan on taking a meeting while you're here,” you half joked.

“Shit - sorry” Jack said under his breath, taking the glasses off, putting them in his right breast pocket, then going into his left and putting another pair on.

You raised your eyebrows at him.

Jack, seeing your face, responded “these are prescription.”

You laughed. “Since when does Jack Daniels wear glasses?”

Jack cleared his throat and re-centered his tie. "Since I got barred from flying and carrying until I agreed to wear these fuckin’ things.”

Your demeanor softened. You had nagged him about getting glasses very early on in your relationship but he never did, saying ‘everybody already thinks I’m your daddy, let’s not give em any more reason too.’

“They look good on you,” you said. "They make you look distinguished, like you could be running things down there.”

Jack huffed and shook his head, never one to be graceful when accepting compliments. Though, you could make out the corner of his lips pulling into the most subtle of smiles.

There was a knock on the door, then the ultrasound technician popped her head in. “Is dad here?” she asked.

You nodded your head towards Jack.

The tech peeked further around the door frame to see him and smiled once she did. “Wonderful!”

You knew the drill. You rolled up your t-shirt as the technician turned the ultrasound machine on, spread the freezing gel over your stomach then turned off the lights to the room. As soon as she touched the probe to your stomach the machine whirled to life, displaying black and white images of your womb.

You never quite got used to it. At a very base level, it was horrifying…. but also entertaining. It took a moment, but the tech was able to get a clear picture of the baby. Its round head and small nose were clearly visible on the screen.

You felt a fluttering in your stomach that was matched by the baby kicking up its legs, then arms in quick succession.

The tech laughed. “Someone is awake.”

You laughed as well. “Yeah, I felt that one. She’s been moving around a lot today, actually.”

Jack leaned forward in his chair. “That’s normal, right?”

The tech nodded. “Yep, that’s very normal. All the wiggling around means the baby is getting stronger. In the later weeks you can actually see the baby pushing around in your belly if you're sitting or laying down.”

“Like the movie Alien,” you laughed.

The tech snorted, “yeah, a lot of moms say that.”

You took a glance at Jack, who was on the literal edge of his seat, eyes fixed solely on the monitor like there was not a single other thing on earth. The tech took some images, measured the baby, then turned on the lights and exited the room to show the doctor the results.

She had handed you a box of wipes to clean the gel off your stomach. Jack had the sonogram in his hand, smiling at it. You watched as he took the cellphone out of his pocket and snapped a picture. It dawned on you then that Jack had probably never had the opportunity to feel his other two children kick. They would have been too little.

“Jackson” you said.

He looked up.

“Here, come here,” you said, sitting up a little on the exam table. As he approached, you held out your hand. “Gimme”

Confused, he went to hand you the pictures; you swatted them away.

“No, your hand.”

He switched the sonogram to his other hand and offered the one closest to you. You took hold of his wrist, guiding it down to place it on the side of your stomach, then placed your hand atop of his. You thought the shock of his touch would stir something anxious in you, but it didn’t. In fact, his large, calloused hands felt familiar.

“You might not be able to feel it yet,” you said.

You waited a moment in silence, that familiar fluttering spreading in your body.

His brows knit.

“You felt it?”

“You sure that was the baby?” he asked.

“What else would it be?”

He shrugged. “Your supper?”

“Jackson Henry,” you said, amused. "That is your kid.”

He smiled. “Listen, all I’m sayin’ is that this feels exactly how my stomach used to feel after eating that pasta sauce you make.”

Your lips quirked into a smile. “It’s not my cooking that’s causing that, you’re lactose intolerant and refuse to admit it.”

“Who puts milk in pasta sauce, anyway?” Jack asked

“It's called vodka-” You shook your head smiling “you're a fuckin’ idiot.”

Jack looked up in mock surprise. "The baby just heard you call me an idiot.”

“The baby just heard you call her indigestion,” you shot back.

The baby has heard me call you worse things; you thought.

It was times like these that made you loathe the idea of keeping in contact with him… because it was times like these that made you miss him, and hate him all over again for what he did. Sure, you could play into the little back and forth between you like old times, but nothing would change the fact that when you looked down, the ring on his finger was no longer gold you had picked out with him, but a silver completely alien to you.

Jack must have sensed your change in demeanor, for he withdrew his and looked away awkwardly. “Yes, well, thank you for that. I appreciate it.”

You hummed, pulling your shirt over your belly and throwing the tissues in the garbage can beside you. “Maybe in a few weeks you will be able to feel it more.”

The word ‘maybe’ hung uncomfortably in the air. Whether you doubted the existence of Jack or the baby… you did not know. Perhaps both. If the last three years had taught you anything, it was that nothing in life was ever guaranteed and you needed to be skeptical to the very end.

Jack had come over that next Sunday, as he always did, to drop off groceries at your house.

Jack had a lot of anxiety around certain things, and with the baby coming it kicked up tenfold, and you had learned that it was best to let him do the things that would make him feel at ease, within reason of course. This meant, allowing him to pick up some items for you during his weekly shopping trip and lug them up the steep stairs to your apartment - lest you fall while trying to do it yourself.

On Sundays when he was out for work he would have the groceries dropped off. You wondered why you never saw Emily with him. Maybe she didn’t want to see you, maybe she didn’t care to help him with the chore…or maybe Jack wouldn’t let her tag along. If that was the case, you couldn't blame him.

Usually, he would only stay for a few minutes, as he had to get his groceries home before they thawed, but today the two of you had plans to discuss the nursery. Once the baby was old enough, she would be spending large amounts of time at both houses. You and Jack decided that it was best to make the rooms look identical to one another. That way she could have some consistency with her surroundings

Although the baby wasn’t coming for another few months, and she wouldn’t be able to stay overnight at Jack's house for an even longer amount of time…Rose had assigned this task to you both. She said it would be a great exercise in compromise and will allow you two to start getting excited about the prospect of having a baby.

Jack had brought with him a folder containing paint swatches, changing table adverts, and other miscellaneous decor items. You had your own ready as well.

“Your obsession with mahogany is weird,” you said, leaning against the kitchen counter and waiting for your peppermint tea to steep.

Jack sat at the kitchen table “it’s earthy.”

“It’s dark and depressing,” you said, “What about a sage green?”

“What hell is sage green?”

“Jackson, “ you said, taking your cup of tea with you to the table. You took the paint swatch out of your folder and handed it to him.

He tilted his head “hmm, yeah that's pretty.”

“And then I found this nursery set at Costco for one thousand five hundred. It has a changing table dresser, a crib that converts into a toddler bed, and then a full-sized later on. You don’t still have the old one right?”

Jack shook his head and sifted through some papers in his file, pulled one out then handed it to you. “I was thinking something more along the lines of this.”

He had printed out the specs of a top-of-the-line smart crib completely with a baby video monitor, heart monitor, sound machine, and three different movement features. The price tag was a whopping six thousand dollars.

“It’s really expensive,” you said, setting the page down on the table.

He shrugged “it’s safe”

“I mean yeah, if money was no object of course I would want that crib but… I can’t afford that Jackson. If we go with the other option I won't have to buy new furniture for a few years at least.”

“What if it was a gift from the company?” He asked.

You gave him an uneasy look.

“Ginger had asked me to ask you what you needed. It would be a gift from the whole agency, and a drop in the bucket from where finances are concerned.”

“It’s a pity gift, isn't it? They're not just handing out twelve thousand dollar baby gifts to other random employees, are they?” you asked.

Jack looked down and cleared his throat “people at the agency feel…upset the way things turned out and they want to…show that they appreciated your involvement and friendship-”

“No. No, they can go fuck themselves” you could feel yourself start to get heated. It wasn’t completely the agency's fault of course, but you had grown to consider his coworkers' friends after seeing them at many company functions. The way they all conspired in secret and nobody gave you the heads up really made you feel betrayed.

“Y/N,” Jack said softly.

“I don’t even wanna fucking do this anymore. You're making me fucking upset” you said, walking back into the kitchen and taking your tea with you.

“Look, all I’m trying to do is-” Jack started.

A knock on the door made the two of you turn. You set your cup down on the counter and moved to the door. You figured it was the downstairs neighbors who needed Jack to move his truck, however, when you opened the door you were greeted with a sight that stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Ezra?”

He smiled as he addressed you, “little bird.”

Jack stood and walked over to see what was going on. Ezra’s face flattened only for a moment but soon returned to his cheery smile. “My apologies if I'm interpreting,”

“No Jackson was just leaving,” you said.

There was a tense silence that followed, you looked behind you to see your ex-husband staring at the man, his jaw clenched tight.

“May I come in?” Ezra asked.

You nodded, pulling the door open for him to step through. You turned to Jack who was still looking as angry as ever and eyed him in a way that said ‘get your shit and leave.’ Jack obliged, grabbing his hat and keys from the table and walking to the landing font. He then stopped and turned as if he wanted to speak with you.

You gave Ezra a quick smile then shut the door behind you to speak with Jack privately.

“What?” you asked.

“He just shows up at your house? And you think that's all well and dandy?” Jack asked.

“I gave him my address,” you said.

“When?”

“The other night when I drove to his house,” you said.

“You drove to his house at night?”

You held a hand up to stop him “need I remind you, Jackson, we are no longer married, meaning what I do and when I do it is none of your concern.”

“It is my concern because that's my baby in there too and I have a right to make sure she’s not put in any danger.”

You rolled your eyes “you’re so fucking dramatic all the time.”

“You don’t see how that's a little fuckin’ creepy?” Jack asked. “Are you sleeping with him?”

You opened the door again and stepped through it” Why don’t you go back home to your dead wife Jack? I’m sure she misses you.”

With that, you shut the door in his face. Ezra was admiring the pictures in the two files you and Jack had strewn about the table.

“Nursery planning,” you said “can I get you anything? Water? Tea?”

Ezra shook his head “no thank you, I’m fine.”

You nodded.

“I thought we should speak about what happened Tuesday evening. You did catch me quite off guard” Ezra said.

You felt a warm heat move to encompass your entire face. “I’m sorry if I surprised you and if my phone number and address on the box seemed a bit…forward. I just wanted to let you know where you could find me.”

“It’s not often somebody has the ability to render me speechless,” he said, his lips quirking into a slight smile “but you seem to do it often, little bird. I appreciated the gift and the apology for that matter.”

You smiled awkwardly “good, yeah. That's all I was trying to do. I felt bad the way things happened, and I still feel bad.”

“Think nothing of it, little bird. At my age, it is best to let bygones be bygones.”

“I’m glad, thank you.”

“How are you fairing?” Ezra asked.

“Oh um, fine. Still getting back on my feet, as you can see” you motioned to the mostly empty house. “But I’m good. The medicine is working well so hopefully, I can stop wearing the tube soon.”

“And the child?” Ezra asked.

“Oh,” you said, putting a hand on your belly “she's good. Super healthy so I’m glad.”

His eyebrow quirked up “you’re having a girl? Congratulations, that is wonderful. Have you thought of a name yet?”

“Thank you, um, and no not yet…what about you? How are things at the library?”

“Busy,” he said “for the life of me, I will never understand why children push off their summer reading until the very last two weeks of August.”

“That sounds like it sucks, things should start slowing down soon though… what, um, what does your girlfriend do?”

Ezra paused “girlfriend?”

“Yeah, the woman in your… you know on second thought that question might have been too forward I apologize-”

“She is not my girlfriend.”

“Oh.”

“She is a coworker, her and her girlfriend are living with me until their new rental leasing period begins. I apologize if that was not clear the other night.”

“No” you laughed “no it was not… so you came here to tell me that then?”

He nodded “and to give you this.”

Ezra reached into the pocket of his Jacket and produced a folded-up paper. “It’s the submission information for the North American Emerging Writers contest. There is a category for cookbooks, if chosen as a winner the company will sign with you, then take care of marketing, printing, and distribution.”

You frowned your brows at the paper “ I haven't kept up writing…and I don’t think I’ll have enough time once the baby comes.”

“The baby won't arrive for another few months, it seems to me you have more than enough time to pull something together. When is she due?”

“December.”

“It works out then, submissions are due by January first.”

“Yeah but I don’t know if it will be good enough-” you started.

“It doesn't have to be good enough, it simply has to be finished. We can agree on how many pages you will send me a week, I will edit and revise then we can go from there. I would prefer at least two drafts to be completed before submission.”

You laughed “Ezra that's… would you even have enough time for something like that?”

“Surely I can make time.”

“Yeah but Ezra, I can barely cook myself or eat the food I cook, even just the smell of it is…” you trailed off, feeling queasy already.

“Then you can give me the instructions, I can write down my thoughts on the recipe, and then we’ll reevaluate at a later time. The important test of a cookbook is instructing others on how to do it.” He said.

“Why are you so keen on helping me?”

“Because you harbor a talent I wish to foster and I think you have a very good chance at winning if you just apply yourself to the work. People around here rarely wish to become anything more than average- I don’t wish to see you fade into rural obscurity.”

You laughed, “it's just a cookbook Ezra.”

“It is your dream no matter how small, if you were to achieve it, it would set you above the rest of the population by a large margin. Now, I have some thoughts about the order of the recipes….go fetch your laptop.”

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey fanfic #ezra prospect fanfic #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you

120 notes · View notes

imtryingmybeskar · 1 year

Text

Inspired by this week's @writer-wednesday

I've been writing quite a lot of angst and hurt recently so here is a piece of tooth rotting fluff to get you in a Christmassy mood. And oh yes, they're back.

Ezra x OFC. Word count: 1,495

🌟 This is set between Chapters 15 and 17 of Starman 🌟

Starman

Earthlings

The sky outside was steely purple grey, heavy with the promise of snow. If she had been brave enough to open the windows she knew that she would be able to smell the tang of the same in the air. She sighed happily, closed the curtain against the rapidly approaching night. But only halfway. She left one side open to be able to see when Ezra would return.

He had expressed a desire to be more independent recently, and she felt today to be the right day for that to begin in earnest. He was unable to drive a car as yet - those lessons would come during longer days and better weather. He did however love the coastal road that her little cottage was on, so when she had suggested he walk the mile-and-a-bit to the nearest town he was only too pleased to go.

Before he left they had discussed the parameters of his trip – what to do if he couldn’t work out how something worked, or ran out of money, or lost his way. He had his own phone and most foreseen problems could be easily solved with a call to her. She would come and get him if he really wanted her to. But she knew that call would never come. Ezra was far too stubborn not to see an adventure through, no matter how small it seemed. So she had encouraged him to take his time, to explore a little without her, to visit the beach if he so desired.

"Ah, you want rid of me already, my love?" he had asked in a dramatic tone as he swept her into his arm. His hand was at the small of her back while he nosed softly at her cheek, a pleasant tingling warmth spreading from where their skin met. "Tell me what I might do to win your favour once more."

His eyes were sparkling, his grin lopsided and roguish as her hands came around his neck to tangle in his curls and bring his lips to hers in a feverish kiss.

"Never," she had said, her murmured reply fervent and sincere against his mouth despite the fact she could hear the joking tone of his words. "I never want rid of you Ezra." Another kiss, deeper and more explorative before she added with a smile, “I’m sure I can think of some things for you to do though!”

When she had presented him with the shopping list shortly after, he had laughed heartily and faintly protested that he had had other pursuits in mind before kissing her gently on the nose and then on the forehead, his soft lips tender and full of promise.

"Anything for you my Vive," he said simply. "I love you."

She smiled at the memory. This was perfect. Not only would the little excursion give him a chance to practice his English, but it would allow her to prepare the house in the way that she wanted in order to surprise him. She couldn't wait to see what he made of her handiwork. Christmas had been explained to him - the meaning behind it, the traditions – but learning about it and experiencing it were very different things. And she hoped his first one would be a joy. Turning away from the window, she surveyed the room.

Soft lights twinkled warmly in the corner of the living room, reflecting off the glittery golden ornaments that adorned the rest of the tree, while the comforting sweet smell of cinnamon was emanating from homemade garlands. A pile of beautifully wrapped gifts surrounded its base, their red ribbon bows enticingly perfect, wrapping paper gleaming. The fire was dispersing its crackling warmth throughout the room and Ben had forsaken his bed to stretch out in front of it for a snooze, the luxury of his experience writ plain upon his little furry face.

He suddenly stirred, opened his eyes and raised his head toward the door expectantly. Sure enough, a moment later she heard Ezra’s footsteps coming up the path. She flung open the door and met him with a tight embrace on the porch.

“I missed you,” she whispered as she nuzzled affectionately into the scruffy patches at his cheeks.

“Though I was gone only for a matter of hours, it felt like a lifetime without you my love,” he replied, kissing the top of her head.

She drew back, unable to hide the excitement in her smile. “I have a surprise for you,” she announced.

He smiled gently down at her. “Well, I must admit I did get the notion that you were up to something."

She took the bag of shopping from him and placed it carefully inside the house before turning back to him. “Close your eyes.”

She could see the moment when his smile turned from pure sweetness to amused indulgence and he did as she said, covering them over with his hand so she knew he couldn't see anything. She took him by the elbow and led him into the welcome warmth of the living room, settling him gently on the couch and sitting next to him so she could observe his reaction.

“Okay,” she said. “Open them.”

His mouth fell open, and his full lips quirked a little to the side in an amazed half-smile as he exhaled sharply. The blazing fire mixed with the off-white of the fairy lights turned his skin golden, and were reflected in the inky depths of his beautiful dark eyes. Her attention was captured so completely that she forgot to breathe for a moment, so lost was she in the soft rapture of his expression. He muttered something under his breath - something in his own language - the only word of which she definitely understood was ‘beautiful’. He had called her that enough in his own tongue and hers for her to recognise it. Before she could even reach for the translator where it was propped up on the bookcase, he turned to her and his eyes were lit with a fervent flame.

“This…you did all this?” he asked.

She nodded. “I want you to share in my experience of Christmas. It’s always been such a happy time for me. I adore it, and I hope that you will too.”

He took both of her hands into his larger one. “My life, my only love…I adore any time that I am with you. All of the time that I am with you. And this…thank you. This is so beautiful! I feel so lucky to share in your celebration." He smiled warmly before his eyes flickered, his attention caught by something. He shot a questioning look over her shoulder. “What’s the matter with Dog?” he asked.

She turned to look. Ben had scuffled over to his bed underneath the window, but not to sleep. He was standing up in it on his little hind legs, his head and upper body obscured behind the curtain she had closed earlier. She went to him, peeking behind the curtain to check what he was looking at.

“Ohhh Ezra,” she said happily as she stroked Ben’s ears. “Come and see!”

She drew back the curtain again so that the window showed a complete view of her front garden. Fat white flakes were beginning to descend from the heavens, falling starkly against the blackness of the evening winter sky. She felt Ezra’s approach behind her - in her heart and in her mind she felt him, before he slipped his arm around her waist and held her against the broadness of his chest.

He exhaled an excited little breath from behind her. “This is…don’t tell me. I’ll remember the word. This is…snew?”

“Very nearly. Its snow,” she corrected him. “I’m glad you got back before it started. You didn’t have snow where you were from did you?”

“Not on my homeworld. I did encounter places where the precipitation fell frozen, but it was usually less…pretty than this. I’ve never seen it white before.”

“Tomorrow we can go out in it. Take Ben for a walk. He loves to roll around in the snow and chase snowballs. We can make a snowman too.” She tipped her head back to meet his upside-down gaze, his adoring grin spreading her own smile upon her face. “And then we can come back and I’ll make us hot chocolate and we can get under the blankets to warm up-“

He stopped her words with a gentle kiss, his hand slipping underneath her jumper and t-shirt to rest against the bare skin of her stomach. “And what about now?” he asked meaningfully. “Can we get under the blankets now?”

How could she ever refuse an offer like that?

The snow continued to fall outside – silent, soft, glittering and abundant. And inside the little house all was warm and cosy and beautiful, the fated lovers entwined, entangled, enmeshed eternally in their joyful love.

Taglist - @the-blind-assassin-12 @cannedsoupsucks @doommommy @shirks-all-responsibilities @taciturnsprocket @theassbuttchronicles @tentacruels @pagannightwitch @thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16 @readsalot73 @littlemisspascal @princessxkenobi @harriedandharassed @kirsteng42 @deadhumourist

#ezra fanfiction #ezra fanfic #ezra fluff #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect fanfic #ezra prospect fluff #starman ezra #starman #writer wednesday

25 notes · View notes

sharkbait77 · 2 years

Note

Lex congrats on your 400 & many more!!! 🕺🏻✨

May I request from Prompt list #1: “It’s pouring rain why are you here?” + Ezra (just because i’m in love with ur Ezra from The Sun Sets With You)

WELL WELL WELL look who is so awfully late with this request (all of them, really 🤦🏽‍♀️) This once knocked around my head for a while, not gonna lie, cuz I wanted to do a fic set in Ezra's universe & I've seen so many done for when he comes back to Reader after the events of Prospect, but I truthfully haven't seen any for before he leaves, so this came out! Once I reread the final product I really liked it so I hope you enjoy! And thank you so much for being so patient! 🥺 And I hope the length makes up for me being so late with it 🥹

I labeled it gender neutral but please let me know if it seems more feminine & I will update! Title & Reader's nickname taken from the song Starlight by Muse (I love & I think the song could actually fit this situation 🙃). I guess you could say they were my muse 😏

Our Hopes and Expectations (Ezra x gn!Reader)

Rating: T

Warnings: Angst, language, food mention

W/C: 3.1k

Masterlist || Taglist || AO3

The birds chirping their joyful, morning song blended with the warm, golden rays of the rising sun is enough to wake you naturally. You breathe in the air of a new day, stretching your stiff limbs across your large bed; too large for only you, but you haven’t had the courage to toss it and start over with a new, smaller sized one. Will you ever? Maybe. But the days pass with you pondering the option, and they always end with you crawling into that same too-large-for-only-you bed.

As your naked feet hit the slightly cooler wooden floors, it helps you awaken fully, and you rise, stretching out once again as your arms reach to the ceiling, and you sigh deeply. You turn to face the sheets, shaking them out and fluffing the pillows back to neatness, then you tuck the blankets into the sides of the frame until the whole bed is made.

It feels bare to you; only the sheets and a top, warmer blanket across the mattress, two long pillows resting against the headboard. Once you broke the habit of piling on unnecessary decorative pillows and quilts that are only meant to cover the bottom of the bed, you couldn’t find it in you to start that up again. He never did like all those ‘redundant hard pillows’ and ‘impractical itchy blankets’.

The memory makes you puff out a small laugh through your nose and you mark a mental tally on your scoreboard that reads How Many Times You Thought Of Him Today. You shake your head and turn to face your wardrobe, finding nothing to wear in your copious articles of clothing until settling on a forest green Henley from his side of the closet. Tally number two.

You accept defeat on the goal of going one whole day of not conjuring up a memory of him through every single thing you do and move along to the kitchen, breaking out your tea box and scanning through which one sounds most pleasant. You settle for pomegranate cinnamon, a tea that definitely did not mingle with your taste buds at first, but you have slowly grown accustomed to.

You place the kettle on one of the stovetop burners, turning the knob and it clicks until a flame bursts from beneath. While you wait for the water to boil, you grab your teapot, a mug from the cabinet, and a spoon from the drawer, opening your tea bag and scooping some into the infuser nestled inside the ceramic teapot. You reach for the sugar bowl and, to your disappointment, find it empty. Exhaling in frustration, you remember that the item at the top of your next grocery list was sugar. He always did tease about your inability to refill the sugar bowl before it ran out.

Deciding that you wouldn’t be able to properly enjoy your tea without sugar – something you experimented with before and knew since to always add sugar – you begrudgingly conclude you need to visit the market down the road. You leave everything prepared as it is on the counter, turn off the stove, and head to the front door. Once you grab your keys and purse from the entry table, you open the door and stop in your tracks as you look outside in awe at the sudden rainfall you had no idea was happening. The sun still shines and there are no clouds in the sky; it’s as if this strange weather is an omen, foreshadowing that today will not be like any other day.

You grab an umbrella that you haven’t needed for a couple of months now from its resting place and point it just outside your door frame, popping it open and holding it upright as you take your first step out the door. You listen to the rain hitting the nylon material protecting you. The pitter patter creates enough music to accompany you on your trek that it doesn’t make you regret bringing your headphones. You notice, however, the rain begins to fall down harder and you pick up the pace in your steps, hoping to get to the market quickly and return home even faster.

The covered market comes into view as well as the fellow townspeople, just in time as the trickle of rain becomes a downpour. You keep your head down once you close your umbrella, hoping to avoid any mundane conversations to further expedite your trip, though the good natured part of you still can’t help but reply to whoever calls out a ‘good morning’ in your direction. You quickly find the different sacks of sugar and pick out one that suits your needs, rushing to the cashier with payment in hand. You can almost taste the tart of the pomegranate and the spice of the cinnamon dancing on your tongue.

Once you’ve finished your transaction, you turn in the direction that you came and make your way through the market once more to head home. Suddenly, a feeling washes over you, a small voice in your head telling you to look up as you sense a familiarity in the air. As soon as your head is back in an upright position, your eyes instantly catch on the target your instinct was telling you to find: a tall man in a dark coat. He’s turned away from you and you see he has a rucksack strapped to his broad back and he has a head of shaggy black hair.

From this perspective, he looks like any ordinary man, but deep down you know it’s the most unique man in your life. You gravitate towards him, an invisible rope tied around your waist and he’s the man operating the pulley, closing the distance between you two despite your best efforts. The world around you fades away; no sounds of people chattering or coins jingling or rain falling penetrating your eardrums. Finally, you find yourself nearly right up against his back and fight the urge to reach out and touch him for a guarantee that he isn’t an apparition.

“Ezra?” You call out to the man and when he turns in your direction, you confirm to yourself it is your love returned.

“Ah… Starlight,” he grins, a charming grin, as if the time that has come to pass has suddenly vanished and all is right again. “It’s pouring rain, why are you here?”

You scoff, the excitement of seeing him melting away, leaving anger and frustration at the forefront. For the time being, his nonchalant remark of concern is enough for you to respond coolly.

“I could ask you the same question,” you snark and he’s visibly taken aback.

“I…” He speaks softly, so quiet you almost can’t hear him over the pattering of rain against the tin covering above your heads. “I had hoped I would remember the path to you, my Starlight.”

“And you have,” you reply in a whisper. As of right now, you’re not sure if he deserves a slap in the face or a warm embrace.

The silence between the two of you is awkward, to say the least. You long to run into his arms, to inhale his deep, woody and spicy scent until it’s all that fills up your senses. However powerful that need is, you also feel equally as strong that you deserve all the explanation he has for leaving so suddenly. For leaving you and the life he supposedly couldn’t wait to build with you.

“More sugar?” He chuckles as he points out the small sack you carry in your arm; an attempt to break the tension, no doubt. He shakes his head and looks to the gravel beneath his boot. “You always did wait until the last granule beckoned you to the market once again.”

You catch the small laugh that threatens to exit your mouth; how can someone who knows you so well – who knows all your quirks and habits – just leave the way he did? You try your best to be strong, the anxiety of your next words flooding your mind until you push yourself to say them aloud.

“Well, I better get back home. It was nice to see you, Ezra.” You move past the man, showing him your back just as he did to you some weeks – months? – ago and are barely able to make it two steps away before he calls out to you again.

“Starlight,” his given name for you from his lips in that low, rumbling tone freezes your feet where you stand, but you don’t turn to look at him again. “May I join you? Can I come home?”

“That depends, Ez. Will you stay this time?” You ask quietly as you gain the courage to look at his face.

Ezra opens his mouth to respond then looks around at his surroundings and the people walking close by as they go about their shopping before locking his eyes to yours once again.

“I’ll explain more… Please,” he nearly begs with his eyes, the same look he always gave you when he tried to get what he wanted. You hate that you fall for it each time.

“Fine,” you breathe out and turn on your heels, heading in the direction of your house once again. “No umbrella?” You ask him as you reach the end of the market, preparing to open yours once again.

“I am woefully unprepared, but I’m sure I can manage fine,” he grins and you nearly swoon.

You nod and continue as you were, almost pretending that the man you had dreamed of seeing again wasn’t currently behind you. He dawdles behind your fast paced steps, stopping every so often to comment on the flora and fauna that has changed during his absence, but you don’t wait or slow down for him, chuckling softly to yourself as you hear the crunching of the gravel quickened as he catches up to you again.

The quaint cottage you and Ezra had once shared together comes into view just as the rain begins to dissipate. A light sprinkle is leftover and you decide to close up your umbrella for the remainder of your walk. Meanwhile, Ezra shakes off his coat from the rainwater that had gathered in the material during the walk. You hadn’t even noticed he took it off to use as a cover and you feel a small sense of guilt for not sharing your umbrella. You make your way down the pebbled path that cuts through your garden and to your door.

“Wow,” he breathes out. “The garden has grown so much; so many vegetables.”

“Yes, well… I had to pour my energy into something to stay busy,” you reply, looking straight on into his eyes to let him know the true reasoning behind the lusciousness of your garden. He understands, shifting nervously from one foot to the other and gripping the strap of his pack tightly.

“Come in,” you say as you open the door and step inside, standing in the frame as you wait for him to enter, and shutting it once he comes through.

You walk straight through to the kitchen to continue your quest of tea drinking and notice that Ezra stands awkwardly, like he’s unsure if he’s allowed to get comfortable here without your permission. You turn the stove on once again, the water in the kettle still warm from already having been boiled before. You turn to face Ezra and meet his gaze, a light flush creeping along the tops of his cheekbones when he sees you had just caught him watching you in the kitchen. You chuckle softly and gesture to a chair, offering for him to sit down. He smiles and nods his thanks, removing his pack and setting it, along with his coat, by the door and taking a seat.

“I was just making some tea. Would you like a cup?” You ask, the volume of your voice reverberating through the quiet home.

“I would love some. Thank you, Starlight,” he smiles and you nod, grabbing an extra mug and spoon for him.

While the water begins boiling again, Ezra regales you in his adventures with such ferocity that it begins sounding like he’s reciting an epic poem. The glint in his eyes proves to you where his true passions lie and you pretend you don’t feel saddened by that fact. While you hoped you could live a simple, quiet life with him, the call of adventure to him is a constant itch he cannot seem to scratch in order for him to finally stay. He catches on that his tales bring you sadness and it falls silent again for a moment.

“Is that my shirt you’re wearing?” He asks and your heart drops in embarrassment.

After you tried so hard to make it seem as if you weren’t interested in letting him back into your life, your appearance obviously proves otherwise. You don’t respond, redirecting your attention to refilling the sugar bowl, and Ezra notices you avoiding the topic.

“You redecorated,” he says as he looks around the kitchen and front living space.

“Here and there,” you nod, moving away from the counter and heading back to the stove as the kettle whistles. “Like I said, I had to stay busy somehow.”

“Well, it still feels like home,” he says underneath a smile and you softly laugh through your nose, the statement not seeming as sincere to you at the moment.

You prepare the two mugs of tea just as you did countless times before in the mornings and evenings, a small ritual you both kept to during your time together. Before his head became filled with thoughts of prospecting. Before he left this life for one of greed and betrayal. You shake your head slightly, attempting to release those negative thoughts, and you grab the mugs and head to the table.

“Mm… Pomegranate cinnamon. My favorite,” Ezra smiles warmly as he sniffs his mug. “Surprised to see you still drink it.”

“It slowly became my favorite, too.”

You sit down in a chair across from him at the table, both of you knowing what conversation needs to be had but neither of you knowing how to start it. You take a deep breath, releasing it with the intention to open your mouth and speak, but you chicken out in the end. You used to be able to speak to this man about anything, yet asking him this one little question gives you more anxiety than finding out the answer. Another deep breath.

“So… You’re back,” you finally speak, the tone of your voice remarking it almost as a question. He looks down at his mug.

“Yes, I-I’ve returned,” he replies, though he does not meet your gaze.

“I mean that… Are you finished?” You clarify, heart pounding as you wait for his answer that takes far too long to come.

“Well…” He trails off and you shut your eyes in disappointment. You lower your head as well. May as well rip off that proverbial band-aid.

“When?” You finally mutter.

“Tomorrow,” Ezra replies curtly, most likely knowing it wouldn’t do any good to sugarcoat the situation.

“Damn you, Ezra!” You muster up the strength to yell out, unleashing all the pent up frustration you’ve had at the same time. “Then why even bother showing up here? Just to take away my hope as soon as you give it?”

“I had to see you,” he says, those brown eyes turning down in sadness; a puppy dog gaze that he knows all too well works on you. Although the anger you feel is too strong to hold back now.

“I am not your marionette; you cannot keep me on these strings expecting me to wait around forever,” you say and stand from the table, admittedly a little more dramatic than you normally would act, but you hope the point comes across to Ezra in this way.

“Starlight, please try to understand.”

“No, Ezra, I don’t and never will understand,” you lean against the kitchen sink, supporting your weight with your hands as you hang your head, begging the tears not to flow. “I can’t – I will not keep doing this.”

“Doing what? Exactly what do you mean?” He asks, standing up as well to stand in the middle of the kitchen, getting closer to you while also respecting the space you want between you two. You scoff and face him.

“I mean…putting myself through this heartache. You leaving for months with no end in sight and then just popping back in my life with nothing to show for your disappearance.”

“Starlight,” Ezra begins softly, taking one more step closer to you and you let him. “I am, whether you’d like to believe me or not, doing this for us. For us to be able to live the life you long for.”

“No, Ezra, don’t blame me for that. Don’t pretend you do this for anyone except yourself,” you sneer and it’s obvious on his face that your words cut him. “I never needed any of it; I told you from the start. My life was fulfilled with you in it just as we were before.”

“Starlight, my love, please,” he steps forward, closing the space between you and grabbing your hands. “This one is the winner, I can feel it. And… I promise, it will be the finale.”

“You always say that,” you sigh, feeling the weight of his hands in yours; a feeling you won’t admit you missed. “But I can’t promise I’ll be here when you come back.”

“You always say that,” he chuckles and places his warm palms on either side of your face. “And where do I find you when I return?”

“I mean it this time,” you look into his eyes, your own welling to the brim with tears. “I mean all of it. Of what I said.”

“I see,” Ezra nods in understanding. “Then… I can only hope for your beautiful face to greet me when I land at your feet again.”

You curse the tears that fall from your eyes, a weakness you had begged yourself not to show him during your conversation. You lean into his touch slightly as he wipes the stream from your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Goodbye Starlight,” he says softly, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

He picks up his rucksack and slings it on his shoulder, and you watch him as he steps through the front door and out of your life once again. Your heart doesn’t hurt nearly as bad this time as you watch him walk down the path and you wonder if it’s because you’re used to the pain or because you know you didn’t mean a word you said.

Tags: @the-ginger-hedge-witch @pascalpanic @aliwritesfic @outercrasis @hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @sarahjkl82-blog @pedrocentric @astoryisaloveaffair @amandalovess @foli-vora @lucrezia-thoughts @chasingdreamer @quica-quica-quica @mishasminion360 @wardenparker @fan-of-encouragement @javierpinme @writeforfandoms @ew-erin @you-got-me-starry-eyed @beskarboobs @andiesturgss @maryfanson @princessxkenobi @castleamc @magpie-to-the-morning @horton-hears-a-honk @radiowallet @stevie75 @honestly-shite @bison-writes @amneris21 @disgruntledspacedad @eri16 @tintinn16 @lowlights @fictitious-little-stitious @luz-introvertida @shadesofnerdlygrace

Ezra Prospect Tags: @quietpainter @grogusmum @tenderwhat

#ezra x gn!reader #ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra prospect x gn!reader #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect fanfic #ezra prospect #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #prospect #prospect fanfiction #sharkbaits 400

29 notes · View notes

just-here-for-the-moment · 1 year

Text

JHFTM Fic Recs - blank slate Reader Insert fic recs - The Ezra Edition

JHFTM Fic Recs Main Menu

February 28, 2023 fic recs

Blank Slate Reader Insert Fics - These are fics I've really enjoyed and where I did not find any racial descriptors of the Reader Insert character. No blushing, no red marks, no visible bruising, no white-coded hair or skin descriptors that I could see! 🌟🌟🌟

My own notes are added here, but please heed all author warnings. My blog and all fics that I recommend are for 18+ friends only. Minors do not interact.

Dear Writer by @lowlights - Ezra and Cee meet their favorite authoress. 💖 This is fluffy and sweet and I love it so much.

I'll be damned if anyone makes you feel like you aren't worthy of being loved by @cyantomatos - Ezra feels unworthy, and he tries to talk you out of loving him

Hold Fast to Dreams by @brandyllyn - Ezra x f!bookseller/librarian. Ezra returns after far too long, only to find he owes thousands in fines. And he can't stay away from the feisty librarian. A lovely, deeply dreamy story.

Keep your eyes on me by @lowlights - A short, HOT smut prompt for Ezra x f!reader

Confined by @imtryingmybeskar - You land in a prison cell and get to know the loquacious prospector. A lovely little slice of characterization!

Deeds of Green Thrilling Light by @highsviolets - Modern Voice Actor Ezra AU x GN sound engineer reader insert. Smoldering, HOT HOT HOT shenanigans in the recording studio with Ezra.

Washing Ezra in the tub by @foli-vora - Ezra returns home to you with his arm missing and Cee in tow. You welcome him with a loving rubdown in the tub and a very HOT handjob.

#jhftm fic rec #jhftm fic recs #fic rec #fic recs #poc friendly fic #poc friendly fanfic #poc friendly fanfiction #race neutral reader insert #race neutral fanfic #ezra prospect fanfic #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x you

8 notes · View notes

whoreforthemandalor · 2 years

Text

the waves clasp one another (chapter one)

Pairing: Ezra x afab!reader (no physical descriptions, no y/n)

Series Rating: M for now, will be updated to E in later chapters and will be tagged as such

Chapter Rating: T, but this blog is 18+ so MINORS SCRAM

Tags/Content Warnings for Series: SLOW BURN!!; adventure; peril; discussions of disease; canon typical violence; thalassophobia tw; Ezra is his own warning. EVENTUAL SMUT.

Tags/Content Warnings for Chapter: mentions of PTSD symptoms; guilt.

Series Summary: When Cee is required to complete an internship to graduate from The Euphrate, Ezra insists on accompanying her off-world. You are a conservationist with a vested interest in preventing a mass outbreak of a transmissible brain disease, and your new intern has brought along a companion. When things suddenly go sideways, will all three of you make it out alive?

Chapter Summary: Cee has a decision to make.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: OKAY SO I have been working on this fic since the beginning of April 2022 and I have four chapters (mostly) written so far, with at least a rough outline for the entire story. I’m thinking this will end up being about 20-25k words when it’s done but who knows where the tides will take us! HUGE THANKS to @imtryingmybeskar @pentechnics and @ejacutastic for allowing me to scream in your inboxes like a cornered raccoon for the past several months <3 This is my love letter to one (1) trash goblin, Mister Ezra Prospect himself <333 also, while I have done quite a lot of Research on the themes in this story, I am by no means an expert so let’s just roll with it, shall we?

A/N #2: My main blog is @tentacruels so I will interact from there!

*******

Chapter One:

The annoyance in Ezra’s apartment was palpable any time the subject of Cee’s imminent departure came up.

“Ez, I really don’t think you need to come with me. It’s just six weeks, I’ll be back before you even have time to notice I'm gone. You’d be bored to death waiting around for me to have down time, this planet doesn't really have anything else to do, other than whale watching,” Cee said with mild irritation, not looking up from her notebook where she was scribbling reminders for the upcoming trip. It was the fifth time in two days that she and Ezra had rehashed this particular portion of their argument, or non-contestable disagreement, as Ezra had taken to calling it.

“Now, little bird, you and I are both acutely aware that I would be more restless than a sea of ferns in a dust storm if I sent you off into that wild yonder with nary a way to communicate with me for the entirety of your trip,” Ezra drawled with a simmering frustration, hip popped out and hand akimbo. He shifted on his feet, hovering near where Cee’s legs were propped up on the arm of the sofa. She glanced up at him for a moment, the stern look on his face causing Cee to roll her eyes and heave a long-suffering sigh.

This circular discussion had been going on for nearly a month at this point, ever since Cee told Ezra that she was required to participate in a work-study program during her last year at the Bowsum Conservatory. “Intergalactic Relations Concerning Native Species Conservation'' was a previously unknown passion for Cee and also necessary accreditation in order to pursue a career in eco-journalism after her graduation the following year. The unconventional timing of Cee joining the Conservatory upon her return from the Green Moon with Ezra a year and a half prior meant that she had quite a lot of catching up to do in order to graduate on time with her peers. This work-study was something that her fellow classmates had finished during the previous year, and although the aurelac that they had managed to bring back from that ill-fated trip had been enough to secure a place for Cee’s education and an apartment for Ezra in The Ephrate near enough to Cee’s housing, the haul hadn’t been hefty enough to account for her entire education and she was loathe to drag out her graduation and drive up the cost.

Cee rationalized going on this trip alone as an opportunity to do something for herself, something to be proud of and look back on as a time in her life where she would be free to make her own decisions. She could admit to herself that, selfishly, she wanted to temporarily forget about the specter of guilt hanging over her head that permanently disabling Ezra had draped over her.

Yes, she had saved his life in the long run, and for that Ezra had thanked her many times and many ways over in the intervening time spent in safety, but there were occasions when she could hardly bear to live with herself. When she stayed with Ezra on weekends or on a longer break from school, she had noticed him struggling to cope with the loss of his dominant arm while trying to hide how much he was affected by it, and the self-loathing would rise in her throat like bile and make her legs itch to run away.

To that end (and not that Cee would ever admit to him), the short list of planets that she’d been interested in were all within the classification that Ezra had described with loving, if verbose, detail as being similar enough to his home planet of Terra. He had gone through the listings with her at the start, either scoffing at the pathetic photos listed by the ambassadors or thoughtfully considering what was on offer for each planet’s program. The majority were too superficial for Cee, mostly consisting of recording aggregations of native plants that were at no risk of being in danger from anything other than a hard frost at the designated season change. But one had finally caught both their eyes about a week prior.

Chelroth.

There were more than enough things right with this planet to capture Ezra’s attention. It wasn’t exactly like Terra, but it was a planet that could sustain a human populace without killing it, covered in water and teeming with life. Cee had immediately decided on submitting her application for this program, knowing at the very least that the prospect of being a member of an endangered creature’s species rehabilitation program would fulfill the requirements and bolster her credentials. The fact that the creatures she would be working with were small, soft and cuddly-looking cemented her desire to be accepted into the program. When her application had been approved two weeks before her scheduled departure, her excitement had risen to a feverish pitch while Ezra seemed to sink down into unfathomable doldrums.

“You know exactly where I’ll be the entire time I’m gone,” Cee murmured in a soothing tone, giving Ezra a wry smile that he didn’t return. “It’s only a day’s shuttle ride from here, it’s got breathable air, and I’ll be with someone experienced. You really don’t have anything to worry about, other than missing me.”

“Cee.”

“What, Ezra.”

He hesitated for just a moment. His dark eyes skittered away from her to look past the hanging plants in the living room window, eyes focused on the dark sky outside the tiny apartment.

That caught her attention. Normally, when Ezra had something to say, words flowed out of him like a broken faucet. But now? The fact that he seemed to pause to choose his words carefully made Cee’s ears prick up, and she closed her notebook to give him her full attention.

“You know how apprehensive I am about you flying solo on this trip. I understand your reasons, but this old man will truly only feel useful if he’s put to the test once more before you leave this little nest entirely.” Ezra ruffled his hand through his hair, making his bright blond birthmark stick up wildly. “Little bird, I wouldn’t be able to carry on in this mortal coil if something happened to you and I knew that I could have been there to prevent it.”

Cee’s heart clenched, thinking of leaving Ezra to his own devices and anxieties while she was off having an adventure. His desire for companionship and conversation didn’t often shred up on the ragged edges of her heart like this, but knowing how terribly lonely he had been on the Green before they had stumbled across one another, how starved he had been for any kind of connection beyond the proximate closeness of another person, tugged on those frayed strings. She physically felt her heart soften and was quiet for a long moment, contemplating the options laid before her.

On the one hand, she truly did want the opportunity to spread her metaphorical wings and experience life out in the vast galaxy without the crutch of anyone to help, anyone to make the smartest choices, anyone to be looking out for her. Cee knew better than anyone how hard Ezra tried to look out for his own.

And yet, Cee remembered the way Damon, her father, had crashed through time and space with little regard to the way it completely devastated her. Damon had been primarily driven by grief, then by ego, and finally by greed. Cee’s mother’s death had caused an irreparable rift in the relationship between the grown man and the precocious child, one that Cee had never truly forgiven him for. With Ezra though, it felt like the empty space in her soul, that a parent was meant to fill, was healing. She didn’t want to jeopardize that relationship by being callous to him now.

Cee hemmed and hawed, tapping the pointer finger of one hand on her chin as she pretended to consider for a moment longer. It was almost amusing to watch Ezra twist himself into knots, knowing he had a point but not truly being able to force her into seeing things his way. Cee knew that Ezra fully respected her and her ability to make decisions, which is why she figured he would be alright with a few…caveats.

“Alright Ez, you can come with me. There’s kind of a lot of paperwork to fill out so-”

“Birdie, whatever I must do to keep you safe is no burden to me,” Ezra interrupted. His grin was infectious in his triumph, making Cee shake her head and belly laugh at how quickly his mood shifted from concern to elation.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm! Can you keep that same energy when I give you the rules for how this trip’s gonna go?” Cee watched as Ezra’s face fell from unrestrained joy to cautious suspicion, and her own smile only grew. Cee pulled her legs off the arm of the sofa and spun around slightly to make room for Ezra to sit down, pulling herself up fully and patting the seat beside her. She waited for him to sit before picking up the tablet on the low table in front of the couch that she had been using to scroll through the packing lists for her program and opening up a blank document.

“I know you’re the one with experience in this kind of situation, but this whole trip is meant to get me ready for what I’ll be up against once I’m done with school and actually out in the field. So!” Cee clapped her hands together, making Ezra jump slightly at the sudden noise. The twinge of immediate guilt for accidentally triggering his adrenaline had her placing a gentle hand on his left bicep. “Sorry, Ez, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Don’t fret birdie, I presume that I’ll need to get reacquainted with the unexpected if I’m to join you on your adventure. You don’t need to concern yourself with this jumpy old fellow,” Ezra said gently, awkwardly angling his arm to cover Cee’s hand with his own, and giving a reassuring squeeze. Cee smiled thinly, wondering if she would regret this down the line.

“Have you tried swimming with just one arm yet?”

*******

Thanks for reading!! Please let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged, or if there are warnings for this chapter that I missed and I will update accordingly!

#ezra prospect #ezra x reader #ezra prospect fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal #prospect #prospect 2018 #btw in this house we LOVE and RESPECT CEE!!#the waves clasp one another #twcoa

20 notes · View notes

crimsonheart01 · 2 years

Text

Saturday June 18, 2022

+ FIC RECS MASTERLIST +

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

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

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

✨ If you are under 21, please DNI.✨

1. A Girl Walks Into A Bookshop by @oonajaeadira

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect) x Fem!Reader

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

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

3 notes · View notes

psychedelic-ink · 9 months

Text

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 𝐆𝐎 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋.

DAY THREE OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: priest au + “worship me. until i tell you to stop.”

pairing: priest!ezra x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, dark content

summary: after a breakup, you find solaca at the local church. there, you meet father ezra.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: dubcon, manipulation, brief mention of reader going through a breakup, reader having a brief anxiety attack, reader having confidence issues, loneliness, messy blowjob, degradation, leg humping, dirty talk, facial, power imbalance, dumbification if you squint, use of whore, religious themes, this is written for horny purposes only, priest kink, a lot of 'yes father's and 'forgive me father's

Comfort is what leads you to your local church.

You wouldn’t exactly say you’re a believer, but coming to the church and sticking wishing candles into the sandy surface was one of your finest memories from your childhood. You enjoy the chocolaty smell of the wooden benches, the stained large panes of the windows that cast vibrant rainbows upon the polished floor when the sun hits them just right.

When you sit on the bench, surrounded by a calm dimness and silent prayers, you feel contented, like the world outside doesn’t exist.

You feel lonely out there in the modern world, especially after your breakup, which was the turning point that led you to the adorned wooden doors of the church in the first place. It wasn’t a messy breakup, still, it left you in shambles. He’d moved on so quickly. Just picking up his clothes and throwing them into the bag before he left. It broke your heart if you’re being honest. He was never overly affectionate or necessarily cared about the things you cared about, but it was better than being utterly alone.

Just a little bit of comfort. That’s all you want. Just a sense of belonging.

Here at the church, the sense of commune affects you, even if you’re not exactly a part of it.

Sitting at the edge of the bench, you look up. The church is empty today due to the heavy downpour, there’s only one more person other than you. They’re busy in prayer so you don’t stare at them for long, not wanting to be rude.

Your eyes move away from the person, they linger on the confessionals. You always found the idea appealing in some twisted way. As if asking for forgiveness from some random man will solve all your problems. You never went it, always feeling too paranoid that someone might hear how stupid you sound.

The person finishes their prayer, and as they walk down the middle, you notice it was a youngish man, his hair stuck to his forehead. His steps echo, a second later the sound of his departure rings dull against the cold walls.

You rise slowly, eyes once again fixed on the booths. They’re barely noticeable thanks to how dimly lit the church is, and with no sun there’s little light to guide you.

You’re not even sure a Father will assist you when you open the door to the small space. It creaks loudly and your skin crawls. You’re hesitant, yet you still climb inside and take a seat. It’s small, dark, and smells overwhelmingly of wood. It’s oddly comforting.

You’re unsure what to do with yourself until you hear the door opening and closing from the other side of the booth.

“Welcome. I am Father Ezra, and I am here to listen, guide, and offer you the grace of God's forgiveness. As sunlit moments blend with shadows, so too do our lives weave intricate tales of both frailty and strength. With open ears and an open heart, I beckon you to unburden your spirit. When you're ready, please share your thoughts, knowing that your words are heard in the spirit of compassion and understanding.”

Your eyes widen at the sound of his voice. He doesn’t rush his speech, taking time as if every sentence is a story of its own. It’s so smooth, enticing, beckoning you to pour all the darkness that lingers around your heart. You’re surprised to find yourself wanting to hear more of that honey-dipped voice.

Father Ezra, you’ve heard his name before and from afar, even laid eyes on him. You can barely remember what he looks like now though. You certainly never heard him during sermons, you would’ve definitely remembered his voice if you had.

You’re pulled away from your thoughts when you hear a creak and a soft flutter of a robe.

“Sorry,” you say, quick and silent. “This is my first time doing this and I didn’t really have a prepared thing in mind.”

His soft chuckle echoes—god, why does he sound so good?

“Sweet, lost, little bird, you do not need to rush it. You can start by introducing yourself. Tell me your name.”

A shudder that starts from your toes claws all the way up to your spine. All he did was ask your name, yet, it feels like he’s asking for something drastic like your life. You swallow around the know in your throat, lowering your gaze even though there’s no one that can see you.

You give him your name and something you can’t discern shifts in the air.

“What a lovely name,” he hums. “Now tell me, what troubles you on this rainy day.”

“Nothing specific,” a sigh parts your lips, and again, a creak comes through the other side. Your skin prickles. You can feel as if his eyes can see through the thin wall that separates you both. “I’m feeling a bit lonely. I—I went through a break up a couple of weeks ago and. . . I guess I can’t help but feel it’s my fault somehow.”

You wait for him to say something, but when he doesn’t, you continue.

“This might sound dumb—”

“There is no such thing,” you can almost hear the smile in his voice. “There’s no shame in asking for guidance and forgiveness.”

“There were these things. . . that he said about me. Things like I was too needy, too dependent, and too much overall. And I feel like it’s true because no one ever seems to stay with me,” you let out a bitter chuckle as tears begin to well in your eyes. “I don’t know why I’m like this, maybe—maybe God is punishing me for a sin I don’t know and i-if that’s the case, Father, I seek forgiveness.”

A breath. A low, violent exhale of breath. Your eyes flit to the grille, a pair of plush lips now visible through the tightly made slats.

“You ask for forgiveness, atonement, yet do you actually believe?” he coos, voice low.

“I don’t,” you answer a bit too quickly and blood boils under your nails. “I–I mean I don’t know.”

“How do you expect me to help when you doubt the lord’s existence, little one?” Despite the provocative question, you see the faint curve of his smile through the darkness. “Are you desperate?”

“I didn’t mean to offend,” you say quietly. The rain pour had begun again, drowning out the rest of the sound. “I’ve been coming here ever since the breakup. I enjoy watching people pray and smile, looking comforted. I just thought that if I did this, that comfort would extend to me as well. I’m sorry.”

“The comfort is fleeting when you don’t believe it to be true,” he murmurs, ignoring your apology. “If you seek guidance, I can help you understand better and maybe then you’ll receive the comfort and the forgiveness that you crave oh so deeply.”

There’s a mocking lilt to his tone that you decide to ignore. It feels only right when you had outwardly said that you didn’t believe in the man’s religion.

With an open heart, you accept his offer of guidance.

You visit his office almost every night.

You found yourself enjoying the church even more after hours. Ezra became a friend, which didn’t surprise you because that man had an essence about him that would charm the pants off of any devil that he might encounter. You guys did bible studies together and talked about other religions as well, and what it means to understand the words inscribed and given to the people. It was interesting to listen to. He would even give you assignments sometimes, telling you to read a specific paper or book. It felt like being at school again. He’d given you something you thought you had lost forever; A sense of purpose.

It didn’t hurt that he was a sight to look at. His dark brown eyes always held a certain mischief to them, lighting up in amusement whenever you said anything peculiar.

You knew it was cliche to have a crush on a priest, yet here you were, wagging an imaginary tail whenever he praised you for doing a good job.

But tonight is not one of those days you feel all giddy and excited to see him. You enter the wide halls of the church and take a sharp turn towards his office, all you sense is impending doom, your insides riddled with anxiety. You’re shaking, barely able to feel your legs as you walk.

When you enter, his eyes look up from the papers that lay in front of him, his gaze momentarily dropping to where your dress ends, then back up. His brows furrowing instantly at your heavy breathing, “Little bird, what’s wrong?”

“Everything!” you exclaim, heaving a breath. “Everything is wrong—I’m wrong—I—fuck—”

Ezra clears his throat in warning, “Language,” he says with a click of his tongue.

“Sorry, Father.” you look down in shame, your hands balled into tight fists as you fight the urge to pace around his office. “I just—”

He cuts you off, “Why don’t you take a seat and tell me what happened?” he smiles kindly. “And maybe you can stop shaking while you’re at it.”

You nod as you take a seat. Your heart continuously rams against your ribcage and you can barely breathe, your throat convulsing in agony. Ezra gestures to you to look at him. When you do, he takes a deep inhale, making a demonstration in showing how his chest expands and contracts, his hand following the movement as if on waves.

You breathe with him, the oxygen that fills your lungs calming you.

“Good,” he hums. “Now tell me what happened.”

“I saw him today. My—My ex,” you shook your head, reliving the moment. “He’s already seeing someone, which is fine if he was just honest about it. It’s some girl from work, the same girl I asked him about when he moved out,” a hiccup parts your sentence and you continue, your eyes dropping away from Ezra’s. “I said ‘is it her, do you like someone else’ and he said no. He pretended not to recognize me, even though his girlfriend did. I could see it in her eyes but he just walked past me, like I never existed.”

A sole tear trickles down your cheek and you wipe it away with your sleeve, sniffling. When you feel another, you repeat the motion, finding solace in the softness of the fabric. “I’m an idiot,” you say, still not looking at him. “What am I even doing here? I should try to face reality not escape it in some—some church.”

You hadn’t meant to sound so harsh. The church had helped you when you needed it most, it had given you Ezra, most of all. But you couldn’t help the words, you’re angry. Furious. You feel invisible out there, but here, here people recognize you, and ask where you’ve been when you came back the other day. It’s good to know that if you disappear some people would wonder about you.

Ezra’s voice rings in your ear, and without even understanding the words he’s saying, you’re looking up.

“Let’s try something,” he says probably again. “Come here.”

You’re slightly confused but obliged. He pushes his chair slightly back, making some room between him and the desk. Your eyes drop to the end of his robes, two shiny shoes peaking from underneath.

“Get on your knees.”

You snort, “Excuse me?”

“It’s going to calm you,” he says. “Do you trust me?”

Your lips part with a faint gasp, you don’t blink as your eyes search his. There’s a tranquility in his expression that makes your heart throb. “Of course, Father,” you get on your knees.

“Good girl,” he pats his thigh. “Now lay your head.”

You do so without question this time, appreciating the firmness of muscle under your head. A moment passes, awkwardness starting to settle in, then you feel his fingers touching the back of your neck and gradually they move up to your scalp. Humming a gentle melody, he starts to stroke your hair, massaging your head as he went along. A deep sigh comes from the depths of your lungs, your nerves humming, your rigid muscles finally relax.

“You’ve been doing so well these past couple of weeks,” he says, a hint of amusement lingering in his voice. “You’ve been learning, little bird, but you still have much to learn. The church is part of the real world, you haven’t been doing nothing.”

Listening to him so intently, he sends shivers down your spine, the thickness of arousal pooling between your legs. He drags blunt nails down your scalp and comes down to your nape to squeeze from both sides. You’re embarrassed of the moan that rattles your throat but he doesn’t seem to mind it. You lean closer, pressing your cheek further against his leg.

“Isn’t this nice?” he asks without needing the answer. “You, my obedient girl, listening and eager to please. You’ll always feel like this when you’re with me. No anxiety, no need to compete and try to accomplish something when all you want to do is. . . relax. . .”

His voice had dropped to a whisper, every word a gentle caress to your skin. Eyes fluttering close, you only focus on the ups and downs of his voice, your body reacting to every stop and turn. The fabric of your underwear dampens, your folds becoming slicker the more you inch towards him. You ache for your fingers—or better yet his cock—but he isn’t allowed to touch you is he?

You try to remember the lessons in celibacy but can’t seem to remember any of them.

Your tighs instinctively press together, the brief friction doing little in dousing the wildfires between your legs. You wiggle a bit closer, his voice nothing but a siren song now.

Ezra notices the constant movement, his fingers slip under your chin, and drags your eyes up to face him. Your breath hitches. The faint moonlight that trickles through the windows behind him cast his face in complete shadow, his features hardening with darkness. He slips his foot between your legs, the floor creaking under the sole of his shoe, “Now, why can’t you stay still when I’m trying so hard to soothe you, little bird?”

He lifts the point of his shoe, the leather pressing directly against your throbbing clit. A surprised whimper rips from your throat, your body shaking as he drags the leather tip down. Your insides clench with want, with a primal need that you can’t seem to understand.

You’re haunted by his words and the darkness that lurks in his eyes. Despite yourself, you press yourself up against his leg like some animal. You can’t seem to stop staring at him. And by the way he pushes his shoe further into you, borderline on almost being painful, you don’t think he minds either.

Your eyes flutter as he parts his robe, your gaze immediately drops to the outline of his cock that’s visible. Your mouth waters.

“Worship me,” he unbuttons himself with expertise but leaves it at that. “Until I tell you to stop.”

His leg still between your legs, you pull out his cock. The tip is an angry shade of red, precum dotting at the tip, without much thought you lean over and dip your tongue, tasting him for the first time. The taste of him coats the inside of your mouth and you swallow greedily, the blood rush to your ears muffling his voice.

“Such a sweet whore,” he hums. “You like sucking cock, don’t you?”

Dragging your lips down the length of him, you answer with him between your lips, “Yes, Father.”

“I really do enjoy it when you call me that,” his thumb touches your cheek as you finally take him between your lips, you allow out your cheeks and flatten your tongue against the underside of his cock. “All you needed was a little encouragement and now you’re the perfect hole for me. There’s nothing wrong with you, all you need is someone to take care of you.”

You hum in approval around him, taking him deeper while grinding against his leg, your dress rides up your thighs, your underwear nearly sheer in color.

“I can feel how wet you are. So needy,” he lays back in his chair and spreads his legs. “I want to feel every inch of your mouth. I said worship, if this is how you think that works you’re mistaken, dove.”

Your stomach churns at that. You want to make him happy—you truly do. You part from him, strings of saliva following the frame of your lips as you bend down closer to the floor, feeling the full shape of his shoe. You look up to him, the heft of his cock laying directly in the middle of your face, the scent of sex and him clinging to your nose. Opening your mouth, you lick between his balls, taking one into your mouth, you swirl your tongue around it. His eyes roll in pleasure, a thick drop of precome dripping to your forehead.

“That’s it,” he raps and guides you back up, lining the bulbous head of his cock against your lips. He pushes forward, cock filling your mouth then inching down your throat. Tears trickle down your cheeks, your throat convulsing as you try to accommodate to the width of him. You swallow and swallow, until your nose is buried into the dark curls that crown his length. You can barely breathe. “I knew you could take it all, little one. I know that mouth could do more than talk.”

The heavy palm of his hand moves down your throat, he feels the shape of himself through the skin. His cock twitches when it feels his hand, straining your mouth further.

He pulls out and you gasp for air, his grin is wide as he looks down at you. “I want to make a mess of that face,” with the rough pitch of his words, you roll your hips, your clit catches against his shoe and a loud moan spills from your damp lips. He clicks his tongue with annoyance. “Ask for forgiveness,” he growls, hand moving up and down his cock with hard strokes.

“For what, Father?” your voice is barely above a whisper. And you’re not sure why you asked when you’re going to surrender to his wants regardless of what they are.

“For being a whore,” he spits. “For talking about a past flame and for taking pleasure without permission.”

He watches with heavy eyes as you straighten yourself, his cock aimed directly at your face. You watch him with parted lips. His nail gently traces the vein that curls around the length of him, slick sounds filling the normally silent office. He swipes a thumb over his head and thrusts into his fist.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” you begin. “It has been two weeks since my last confession. I have behaved like a whore, talked about another man in the presence of the clergy, and taken pleasure without permission. I come before you seeking God's forgiveness and guidance.”

“Will you repeat your sins?”

“No, Father. Not unless I have permission to do so.”

His hand quickens, his grip tightening, “Do it then,” he snarls with a devilish smile. “Ask me permission to be a whore.”

Instead of a verbal permission, you part your mouth wide and stick your tongue out. His eyes widen with shock momentarily before understanding. He seems pleased and in return, you feel genuine jot for finally doing something right.

He grips your chin, pulling you away from his leg and directly between his thighs. It doesn’t take him long to go over the age—one, two more strokes and you feel the first string of white come spurting over your face. It drips down your forehead from your face. The sounds Ezra make are unhinged, his hips lifting from the seat as he moans openly into the air, defiling you and marking you as his. His seed feels heavy over your face and with your tongue, you catch a bit of it, moaning as you swallow.

Ezra hunches over you and you feel his tongue on your cheek, taking himself into his mouth, he presses his tongue into your mouth, forcing more of himself inside of you.

When he parts away, you’re dazed, all pretense of the life outside of this church gone.

“My sweet bird, so dirty now,” he purrs, this time he collects more of himself over his fingers and stuffs it into your mouth. Your eyes rolling you swallow over and over. “What do you say?” he asks melodically.

“Thank you, Father.”

#ezra prospect x reader #ezra x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra prospect x fem!reader #priest!ezra #tw dark content #tw dubcon #pedro pascal characters #hauntedhoedown #pedro pascal character fanfic #prospect fanfic

714 notes · View notes

chronically-ghosted · 10 days

Text

vivarium

rating: explicit 18+ pairing: ezra x f!reader word count: 8K summary: you request a vacation for your birthday. With the rain and a few drinks, you get a lot more than you asked for. warnings: alcohol drinking, minor age gap (less than 10 years), oral (f!receiving), fingering, smut, possessive!Ezra, dom!Ezra, one booty smack, dirty talk for real, smut, pining, a bit of angst, referenced/implied orphanhood, made a religious sex pun and i'm so proud of myself a/n: so @morallyinept requested this and it turns out when I write for a boy for the first time, it can’t be less than 7K – whoops. i've gotten ezra requests from some moots before, so i hope this lives up to your expectations! **massive thanks to @toomanytookas for editing and providing the initial validation so i don't post in a mouth-frothy haze. I've never had a beta like you before and I genuinely feel like I've turned over a new chapter in my fic writing. thank you!

🤍Masterlist 🤍 Ezra Masterlist 🤍 AO3 Link

💜come see what else we've done to celebrate 1K followers

Your feet in the clear blue water, the humidity like a wet tongue on your skin, you scratch a nail under the tab of a mustard yellow can, crack it open, and drink. The bite of alcohol dulled by the carbonation, you take several pulls, drawing out the mid-afternoon buzz from two other cans and whetting your mouth in the heat of the jungle day. You lean back on your elbows into the sponge-soft grass, and let out a massive sigh.

A few feet ahead of you, on a repurposed inflatable reentry tube, your long-time privateer partner chuckles, the sound deep in the back of his throat as he floats by. Thick fingers and exposed heels dragging along in the crystal water, he greets the yellow sun like an old friend – arms wide, chest out, a lazy smile on his face. A damp rag – supposedly clean – sits over what you know to be dark-earth eyes, every other inch of him relishing in the inevitable sun tan.

“I see your aaahhh, pet, and I raise you a mhmm.” The rubber squeaks as he adjusts, tips his scarred chin up to the cloudless sky and rests his head back. “Kevva said there’d be days like this, but I think the old hag mighta left out a thing or two.”

You grin, the wet heat of Banu 8’s lowlands drawing sweat droplets onto your hairline at the back of your neck, settling thick behind your ears where it co-mingles with the drunk haze loping around in your brain. You watch Ezra with his bare arms, hairy legs, and prominent nose turned towards the divinity he’s so fond of invoking and the thought crosses your mind – again:

Shit, he’s so fucking hot.

Oh, bad thought.

You drop your gaze, pressing the cold aluminum lip of the can to your mouth, drinking quicker than you probably should, anything to distract you from your partner as he obliviously floats by.

For our sake, you silently beg the hungry little creature that whines and snaps at the image of a shirtless Ezra, please fuck off.

While Ezra whistles a vaguely familiar tune, terribly off-key, you scoop up the cool lagoon water and dribble it over your hot knees, then your thighs, dampening the rims of your make-shift shorts just enough to cool them without leaving them vulnerable to a permanent state of moisture due to the high humidity. You flick the last drops of the water onto your chest, your white cotton bra choked to your skin. A final effect, you press the cool can to the thrumming pulse on your neck, closing your eyes with a relieved grunt, taking the time to enjoy the sensation of the cold metal against the rapid beat in your throat.

From the water, you hear an unsettled grunt and you open your eyes to find that same shirtless Ezra staring at you, the rag now curled in one hand against the rubber float. He swallows, looks at something past your ear, and again tries to adjust in the sticky rubber float without flipping himself over, his hands falling into his lap.

“Neptune, dear, would you do us the favor of tossing over one of those cans? I’m parched. I think my lovely skin is drying out.”

Neptune. His favorite nickname for you. You never got any real explanation from him as to why you got that name, other than after you’d officially joined his crew, you told him you came from a blue planet in a far off system. But that was often the way of things: Ezra did something and you didn’t question why. From that simple truth, you learned about how to repair and rebuild the entire electrical system from a drop pod. You learned, in excruciating detail, the parts and mechanics of a thrower, so much so that you could almost identify the model number at a glance. You learned about which corporate dig sites to avoid, which made for easy marks, and which would draw the eye and ire of entities hardly worth the trouble.

Being out on your own since you aged up out of the orphanage had not gone the way you hoped and life had not been so kind as to teach you any other way to survive. Ezra had found you in the back of a red spice market, cornered and slurping down the last few of your credits from a muck bowl that you had vastly overpaid for.

For whatever reason, he offered you a job on the spot, despite you having nothing to offer him. and no experience in anything except cleaning prophylaxiams and staying out of the way.

And yet, he has been far kinder than life, or anyone else, had ever been to you.

As a result, loyalty was only a fraction of what you felt for him. What had begun as overwhelming adoration had grown hot to the touch, slippery between your fingers at night, and perhaps – what you feared most of all – obvious.

Yet when Ezra looked at you with a smile on his face, it was only comradery he wished to share with you, certainly not his bed. He shared it with practically every other bi-pedal humanoid you came across, but not you. And this you had to accept. And you did.

But being a little drunk made it that much harder to remember where to keep your hands to avoid being burned.

“Sure, Ez.” You tuck your legs out from the cool water and dig around in the canvas bag at the base of the white nut tree. Most of the ice had melted into the bright green grass around the lagoon, but a few of the cans were still cold. You’d probably tease Ezra later for skimping on the insulation bucket the provisions store the port offered, but he had been so eager to get to the camp ground after spending an “exceedingly exorbitant amount of time stacked up against human drivel on public transportation”. One lopsided grin, and you’d give him the world.

“Ez–,”

He lifts the rag, glancing at you over his shoulder, hands cupped as the can flies through the air. The cold metal presses against the overheated skin on his chest and he hisses. Eyeing the can ruefully, he cracks it open and drinks deep. You busy yourself with sliding to the edge of the pool again to keep from watching his throat move.

Ezra finally pulls back, smacking his lips, with a pleased groan. He wets the rag again and dramatically flops it over his eyes. Hidden from his view, you watch the roll of water down his temples, his neck, his chest.

“Name anything better than this, Neptune, I beg you. Free from obligation or assignment on commission. Where my only moral imperative is to drink as many of these as I can and remind you how beautiful you are. Which . . .” he tilts the bottom of the can towards you, head still tilted back on the raft and dripping rag covering his vision, “fantastic, by the way.”

Having stifled your blush while under his watchful gaze about three or four other times today, without him looking, you flush so hard and fast you go lightheaded. Beautiful, he said. You drink more carbonated alcohol to choke back your rising heart, your eyes skim over the curve of his nose, a drop of sweat as it peaks on his forehead. You can’t linger over him too long; he has a six-sense about you – unable to know what you’re thinking but that you’re overthinking all the same.

“Was this worth the trip on public transportation, Ez?” Your ankles stir the water again.

“I could do this all day,” he sighs contently, bringing a warm smile to your face. “And definitely all night.”

Maybe you’ll both be so sun-drunk later tonight, you’ll fall asleep together on the pallet on the floor. Of course, by nightfall, someone will have to come to their senses and you’ll be tucked back into your separate sleeping bags, but maybe, as a present you couldn’t possibly ask for, you can just nap together.

With the bottom plush of your lip stuck between your teeth, you rim the metallic edge of your can with your nail, ankles spinning slow circles in the water.

“Thank you, Ezra,” you say quietly, “for the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

It began as a sort of joke one night on the volcanic hotspring moon of Wulkan after a twelve hour shift hunting through the black ash in search of fire pearls. The job was rather rushed, and Ezra had his reservations going into it, but fire pearls were a near certainty and you both needed a boost after a jump exchange had gone a little cockeyed. Sweat dripping from his temples, the provided water packs in the harvest suits doing just enough to keep him from passing out from heat exhaustion, he extended the skein of hydro-electric towards you across the narrow lane between your cots and asked you if you could be anywhere right now, any system, where would you be.

“Somewhere so cold I freeze my tits clean off,” you said with a sigh and wiped your own sweat-drenched forehead. You could smell yourself after two days of sweating profusely, but your stench in comparison to the rest of the crew, including Ezra, barely registered any more. You took a sip as Ezra laughed.

“A grievous crime against humanity and all its luscious gifts, but I get your meaning. Anywhere else?”

“Water.” This was said with more conviction, so much so it turned Ezra’s head towards you. “The few memories I have of my home planet and my parents, we were always near or in water. An ocean, maybe. I’m not sure. But I remember being really, really happy and I think being near water . . . it would make me happy again.”

You handed the skein back to Ezra, something unreadable in his gaze. He took it back from you, his fingers dark from the ash that clings to everything. On the other side of the tent, the rest of your crew and other teams mill about, yelling, with cutlery clattering as the camp gets ready to slow for the night, a graveyard shift picking up in just a few hours.

Ezra’s eyes are as dark as the ash you’ve been shifting through the past two days.

“Then you shall have it, Neptune.” He said, quietly. “I’d give you the fucking galaxy if I could.”

Those words often came to you in the crevice between sleep and wakefulness, when your mind was idle and the reins that tightly bound your affection for him loosened without a conscious grip. When you thought you weren’t being watched.

The flat of his foot hooking behind your ankle breaks you from your reverie. Cast into shadow by the wide, rubbery palm leaves above your head, he looks at you curiously.

“That look of deep consternation is giving me a headache. Spill.”

With a faint smile, you gently bump his knee with your own. “Nothing, Ez. I’m just glad we get to take a break from it all. I can’t remember the last time I . . . the last time we’ve just had nothing to do.”

He cocks his head as his gaze crawls up your ankle, your shin, to your knee. You think it might linger on your thigh before it bounces to your face. You tighten your grip on the hot, expansive feeling behind your ribs and stare back at him.

“Then that’s a black mark against me, as the leader of this clan.” His mouth curls, eyebrow arching as he talks, knowing that statement has been a point of playful contention between you two for years. “A good overseer knows when to crack the bullwhip and when to let it rest.”

“Well, a better overseer knows when to demand that her team rests, because sometimes they have no idea what’s good for them.”

His foot rotates behind your ankle, his toes brushing against your calf, bringing your attention to your own body part in the water. Your legs are hairy, nearly as much as Ezra’s, and you haven’t shaved your pits in possibly a decade. Ezra once brought home a professional nightwalker, one from the Upper City, to the derelict flat you’d been sharing for two weeks as you offloaded your haul to the under markets. You never forgot how smooth her skin had been, shaved clean and smelling of moon lilies. That scent permeated the small space for weeks afterward. Even now, just the sight of moon lilies makes you nauseous.

His aversion to you runs much deeper than physical aesthetics, even if you can’t help but wonder sometimes if becoming as smooth and hairless as the nightwalker might change his mind.

“Observational to a fault as always, Neptune.” The ball of his foot rests briefly between your legs before he pushes off from the spongy lip of the lagoon’s edge. He floats back into the sun, his head shaking slightly, a smile drained of amusement on his lips. He inhales as the sun crests over his forehead and he glances up at the blue sky. “I have no idea what’s good for me.”

Something about his tone, the way he turns away from you, scratches a very raw place inside of you – a place that fears and obsesses over abandonment. You wouldn’t survive it if he abandoned you, if he left you to fend for yourself one day. Logically, you know he would never do that – he has sworn up and down to your face that that notion is fundamentally ludicrous to him – but the anguish of him silently rejecting you from his bed again and again and again makes that fragile place inside you bleed red.

You stand up, swipe another can from the bag, and move towards the waterfall.

“I’m taking a hike.”

You feel his eyes on the backs of your thighs as you march towards the gentle incline.

“Be safe, Neptune,” he calls softly.

For a fleeting second, you wish he had made you stay.

The first fat raindrop splashes against your cheek and wakes you from a humid, irritated nap. You’re scowling by the time you open your eyes to several more wet droplets as they splatter against your neck, your forehead and you sit up, even more frustrated than when you fell asleep. The last sticky tendrils of dreams snap and pop as you pull yourself onto your feet, back hunched and arm held high against the steamy sprinkle. A crack of lightning, then a growl of thunder, and the sky splits open, drenching you in seconds. With a snarl of your own, you snatch up the empty can from the grass next to you and make for your camp down the hill. As you crest the top, you see a figure standing outside the tent, back tense and hand raised as if searching through the twilight gray downpour.

Normally, the thought of warming up beside Ezra in your yellow tent fills you with something inexplicable, the grime and load of the day melting from your shoulders, but your buzz from earlier has thickened, made worse by the heat, the emotions in your heart all gummed up and smashed together. The sight of him cranks up your irritation high in your ears. With a huff, you concentrate on a smooth slide down the hill without breaking your ankles and not the fire rising in your gut.

But the rain and the distance apart has only stoked his own outrage.

“Where the hell were you?” He snaps as you yank back the velcroed tent flap. He is dripping from head to toe in jungle rain as he follows closely behind you into your small space. You ring the water from your hair into a corner and scowl up at him.

“I fell asleep. The rain woke me up. I came back as soon as I could.”

His eyes narrow, water rolling off his bare shoulders as if he still stood out in the downpour. The droplets pat pat pat against the tarp floor as he snatches up a fiber towel and dries himself off, scowling all the while.

“I searched for you, calling your name up and down this fuckin’ jungle and I didn’t hear a peep. What if something had gone wrong? What if you’d been hurt?”

“Then I would have fucking dealt with it, Ezra.” You stomp to your feet, neck hot from his patronizing gaze. Hands on his hips, you feel like you’re being scolded. “I can take care of myself.”

One dark eyebrow arches mockingly, the scar on his cheek twisting in his scowl.

“And you expect me to lay about, twiddling my thumbs, while I wait for you to return or until you deem it appropriate for me to fret over your corpse?”

That patch of blonde hair is a shade darker, drenched and pressed flat against his forehead. His bare chest is littered with scars and divots where chunks of flesh had been torn away. His skin is a reflection of the hard life he lives. You doubt you’d look any different if you’d seen yourself in a mirror.

“We are partners, Ez,” you grind out between locked teeth. “Equals, alright? I am not your little sister for you to fuss over and you are not my keeper.”

At that, the indignant swell of his chest deflates and the anger in his eyes flickers before fading out.

“You are beyond capture,” he mutters, eyebrows down but gaze distant. “I’d never dream of keeping you, Neptune.”

Again, it’s his phrasing that hurts most of all. You glance away, the backs of your eyes growing hot and tight, drying out despite the sticky moisture warming the inside of the tent. But then his hand around your elbow startles away the tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

“You are the most important thing to me in the entirety of this world and the next,” he says softly, earth eyes searching your face. “I came on too strong, I know that, but the idea that you’d ever be gone from my side for any amount of permanence . . . well, it’s been a lifetime since I’ve felt fear like that.”

His frown goes belly-up, a hopeless smile on his face. “I wasn’t aware I even still could.” His calloused thumb brushes your skin, skin that nearly catches fire from the rough drag of scar tissue, before he lets his hand drop. Your own curls into a fist at your side, a tremor rattling the bones of your wrist in an effort to keep from reaching up and touching that moon-shaped scar you dream about at night.

“I’m not going anywhere, Ez. You taught me enough to survive in a world like this. But you’re going to have to trust me.”

That smile goes wan, sickly. “That’s the problem, dear heart, I trust you with my life.”

He swallows, as if suddenly bashful to make direct eye contact with you. He clears his throat before rummaging around in his canvas bag for dry clothes. He yanks a black, sleeveless shirt on over his head before setting up the materials for a flameless pocket fire.

“Since my dreams of showing you something called a barbeque have been quite literally rained out, we’ll finish off the rest of the dredge pack tonight. But come first light, I’ll fix you breakfast so succulent, the smell alone’ll make your mouth water. How does that sound, Neptune?”

He barely slows to breathe as he seamlessly switches topics from breakfast to another meal made at camp without looking up or stalling in his prep for dinner, hands almost disconnected from the humming of his mouth – one so methodical, the other like a channel rat on fire.

“– and the thing was no one was really sure enough what a squatter egg looked like when it goes bad. But being out in a cramped hold-out for two weeks where it was so dark, your own ass and someone else’s had no demarcation, well, there wasn’t a single peep of dissimilitude . . .”

Words strung together so quick and so melodic, it was always incredibly easy to fall into a sort of easy trance around Ezra. Sounds and syllables just sounded right coming out of his mouth and after a while, that trance became a state of repose, Ezra’s own sense of calm filtered to whoever was also in the room. But not to you, not right now.

After spending immeasurable time with less than half a space between you in cramped tents and in claustrophobic dig sites, you could read the tension on the lines of his body as well as the lines on the palm of your hand.

“Neptune? You with me?”

Ezra glances up at you, always aware of you and your movements like the twinge on a spider’s web, a signature smile that has always seemed to shine a bit brighter for you plastered over his face. The anger was the only thing holding you up and with it gone, you can feel your bruised heart twinge as it folds over itself.

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’m gonna switch out of these wet clothes before we eat, okay?”

He hums, nodding, eyes fixating on the steadily boiling water in front of him as you turn away to the other side of the tent, by your pallet and traveler’s pack. As further evidence that he feels nothing but companionship for you, you feel his eyes remain nowhere near you as you strip off your shorts and bra for a sun-warm suit. Then again, you’d like to think it’s kind of scandalous to be changing in front of him, but you’d both seen each other naked more times than you could count – there is no modesty in foxholes. The space between your hips and your thighs feel sticky from sweat and the slick rain, the curve of your spine warm and flushed. The zipper is loud in the silence.

You’re braiding your damp hair away from your face when he sighs and the noise makes you look back at him.

“Answer me honestly, if you’ve ever cared for me a tick. Do you regret it?”

His eyes are sorrowful, worried, brow fixed down. Ezra is not, and never has been, a man prone to melancholy. His wrists rest loosely over his knees, gaze deep in the bubbling bone broth. The rain outside taps insistently at the tarp.

“Regret what?”

“Coming with me and taking on this life. It’s not an easy one,” he says quietly. “I should have offered you another choice, that day in the market. But one look at you and I . . . I was willing to trust you with my life, Neptune – far, far too soon. Even at my best, you make me irrational.”

You watch him, his broad shoulders moving, as he scoops up the hot, dark liquid into two bowls, and joins you by the entrance to the tent. You pin back the flap as he settles, the scent of humid rain immediately flooding your mouth, the pattering sound now twice as loud. Wordlessly, he hands you a spoon before digging into his own bowl.

The heat of the soup burns away all the silly, impossible things sitting on your tongue. You sit in silence, his presence never rushing you to answer before you are ready. As you eat, you stare out at the dark lagoon, where you had both been only hours ago, the clear water murky beneath the downpour.

“No, Ezra, I don’t regret it.” He stills, as if surprised you’re answering him now, mid-meal. He lowers the bowl to his lap, eyes trained on you. “You saved my life, more times than I can count.”

Your words loosen the rigid lock of his shoulders. He grins. “As you’ve said, you would have been just fine without me.”

Your vision goes blurry. You pin him with such a stare, you watch the blood rush from his face.

“But it would have been only half a life.”

“Don’t kid about that, Neptune, it’s not –,”

“I’m serious.” You put your bowl down and rub your eyes with your sleeves. Of all the ways he hasd seen you bare and naked, he’s never seen you this vulnerable. “I don’t wanna do any of this without you. I want you, Ezra.”

“You have me, dear heart, you have me.”

“Not like that and you know it.” You watch as understanding rolls across his face. His lips part, eyes wider. He swallows and you stare at the ceiling, cheeks suddenly wet and hot. He said he’d never leave you, but what if this is the thing that finally does it? Could he work with you, knowing just how deeply you love him, and not feel an ounce of disgust? “You told me once sex is just a way to pass the time, but never, not once, have you ever even tried to pass the time with me.”

He swallows, deeper this time, jaw locked, his eyes fluttering with the force of it. He brings his knees to his chest.

“Because it wouldn’t just be passing time with you.”

In that moment, you’re grateful for the rain, for the sound of something to fill the silence.

You stare at him, cross-legged in front of the open corner of this yellow tent, abandoned bowls growing colder, but he sits with his leg up, knee to his chest, as if to ward you off. Ward off whatever is growing in your gaze, under the flat bone over your heart in your chest. But whatever is stifling the air in your lungs, is warming his eyes past the point of comfort, barrelling towards expletives and the crass, the lewd and depraved. You cannot go back to having him look at you any other way.

That look loosens every line in his face when you crawl into his lap, your knees around his hips. The backs of your thighs go damp, even through the suit, pressing down onto his still-damp shorts, and you think his breathing has quickened.

His massive palm hovers near your cheek, unwilling or unable to pull you forward or push you back, his oak eyes searching your face for signs of discomfort as if he had somehow dragged you across the tarp floor.

“Neptune,” he mumbles as he focuses on the curve of your bottom lip, “this is unwise. You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

You can feel the hard curve of his shoulders as you follow the lines of his arms and settle them on his collarbone. Nothing has happened that can’t be undone – not yet. Your perfect, vicious Ezra hasn’t pressed you flat on your back like you thought he would at the hint of sex. You could return with your dignity tomorrow morning, this moment never spoken of again, and he’d let you have that. The shake of his elbow with his palm against the tarp is the only indication that something might be unsettling to him.

But it is your birthday after all. Maybe he’d let you have this one thing. He doesn’t know you’ll die without it.

“If you don’t want this . . . if you don’t want m-me, then say something. Push me away and I’ll never bring it up again.” You cup the sides of his neck as your hips shift forward, closer to him. The air in your lungs tightens, breath coming in shallow pants. Only then does he drop your gaze and fixate on your encroaching heat. “At least then I’ll know.”

There. Out loud. It’s been said, heard above the deluge of rain against the tent and the jungle outside.

His palm finally settles on your cheek. It brings a sense of wholeness to you like you’ve never known. Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, a breathy exhale pours out of your mouth. His thumb catches the plush curve of your bottom lip and he draws it towards your chin, his own mouth open, enraptured.

“Sweet thing, how have you not always known?”

His mouth is humid against yours, as if he swallowed the jungle while looking for you, his thumb releasing your lip to capture with his own. The tip of his pointer finger massages the hinge of your jaw, just below your ear, and he manipulates your head until your mouth parts like he wants.

His tongue skims your upper lip, a tentative exploration into the unknown rewarded with a low groan that is warmed by the heat coiling low in your hips. You taste his tongue, a hot glide inside your mouth, and you feel his arms slip around your lower back, his inhale of breath sharp across your face as he brings you closer. He bites your lips roughly, the spark of pain and pleasure crackling across your face as if you’d brushed a live wire.

His fingers wrap around your wrist, prying you from the back of his neck, just for a moment, his eyes heat-soaked. You suck your teeth, mouth open and seeking, and the hand around your jaw drops to your collarbone, the breadth of his palm nearly suffocating your throat.

The briefest pressure – the slightest touch – at the pulse at the bottom of your neck and your hips rock forward into him as he flattens his other palm to your ass, clutching you to him and pinning you to the pallet.

His teeth scrape against the curve of your ear, pinching the cartilage between his incisors, while his hands frantically search up and down your waist. His weight smothers you, his stomach breathing into yours, the flat plane of his chest rubbing your nipples raw against your suit, an unfocused lurch to his hips every time you tug on his hair. With every breath, every time you try to savor his touch, the taste of his mouth is like a wave, dragging you forward, wrapping a dizzy chain around your throat and squeezing.

Ezra’s greatest weapon has always been his mouth, that silver string spinning faster the longer he captivates you, spell-bound. Now he uses to decimate you in entirely new ways.

The suck of his lips against the moist flesh below your ear distantly distracts from the afterburn of his unkempt beard against your jaw, your cheek. His lips alternate patterns of reward with a plush kiss and punishment with a stern nip when you try and stifle a moan. The edge of his shirt is damp from resting against his shorts when you slip your fingers underneath to palm the small of his back. He stills when you run your fingers around to the front of his trunks.

His hand curls around a clump of hair at the base of your skull, his eyes darker than volcanic ash. The steady heat of his groin against your thigh is a sensation you’ll chase for the rest of your life.

“You know what happens when you touch a man there, Neptune?” He’s breathing hard, you both are, and the way he snags your hair in his fist has your head twisted at an odd angle, but you’d be damned to a Kevva-forgotten corner of the cosmos before you drop his gaze. You nod and that moon-shaped scar on his cheek twitches. “I know I didn’t teach you that.”

“L-learned it – somewhere else – Ezra.” Your mouth isn’t working properly, your lips swollen from his kisses, the slight pain in your scalp making it difficult to focus, while your cunt tightens hungrily. “Had to.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because you wouldn’t give it to me.”

He leans back, his forearm tense and corded where he has you by the hair, a seemingly disinterested scowl on his face. But by the throbbing length pressed up against you, so far from where you need him the most, he is anything but.

“So you’re saying this is my fault?” Without breaking eye contact, his chest raised inches above yours, his fingers snag on the blue zipper by your collar and your breathing nearly stops. He hums to himself, eyes following the path of the zipper as the material separates, click by click by click. When it reaches your belly button, he stops.

“Ezra –,” it’s a whine and you can’t even chastise yourself for it. And neither, it seems, can he.

Head tilted as if curious about the label of a box beneath colorful wrapping, he dips his wide hand beneath the edge of your suit. The heat that radiates from his palm against the curve of your stomach has you writhing underneath him, your knees drawing up to his hips, trying to catch any relief.

But he takes his self-satisfied time. Callouses of a hard-won life snag and drag over the soft paper-thin skin that covers your ribs as he maps you in one hand. When he cups your right breast in his palm, the noise you make is a sob of gratitude.

“You let another man besides me do this to you?”

The snarling pit of your own thoughts slows as some awareness realizes he’s speaking to you.

You swallow, clutching his bicep, begging for forgiveness before even opening your mouth to answer.

“It didn’t mean anything, Ez, it wasn’t you – it meant nothing to me–,”

“But you let someone else touch what’s mine, hm?” That lazy, slightly irritated look on his face, he rotates his hand, squeezing the cup of your tit again, before sharply pinching your nipple.

“Ezra–,” you choke out and his thigh shifts between your legs, just close enough to feel the heat but nowhere near close enough to grind against. His thumb rotates the raised flesh slow enough to capture and catalog every sigh it draws from you, his eyes catching between his hand and your relaxed face.

He wears the same expression he does when sitting in the backs of blackmarket tea shops and smoky alebins. When the prospect of striking gold becomes all he can think about.

“Strip.” He suddenly commands. He lifts off you just enough for you to wrench your arm through the armhole, all the while keeping a rough palm on one breast, and then the other. You watch him massage your flesh and your ribs tremble with an unsteady breath. Only when a slightly cool breeze meanders over your bare shoulders and chest do you realize that the tent flap is still open, your head inches from the edge. A perfect and unimpeded view to anyone who wants to watch him hungrily grope your tits. Embarrassment peaks sharply, despite his hand pressing you into the tarp, you wrench your neck back and look over your shoulder through the window of the open tent as if you need to confirm that you are giving the jungle a floor show.

“Ez– shit, the flap–,”

He finds that the skin beneath your breast had grown sticky and slick from sweat, the humidity still oppressive even with a breeze. He bends his head and licks that same sweaty path and your attention snaps back to him, nails curling against his scalp, his warm breath a high-intensity balm to your roughly-played-with nipples.

“Not a soul in sight, Neptune,” he murmurs lazily into your ribcage, his nose running up and down the valley between your tits. “And if there were, let them learn a thing or two.”

His teeth nip the swell of your stomach as he crawls down your half-naked body. Without his heat and hands, the tenderness from his attention on your breasts ratchets up to an ache, a minor preoccupation before he hooks his fingers around the rest of the jumpsuit and tugs.

You are naked beneath him, swollen chest rising and falling, your knuckles scraping against the pallet as you search for something to grip with all your might. You smell of lagoon water and hot jungle air, of muggy photosynthesis and algae. The smoky scent of the black ash of that distant planet never really left Ezra and the dampness of the rain seems to stir it up. He towers over you, dark and breathing heavy. Smoke and brimstone.

He gropes your ankles, then your calves, hands gliding over the thick hair there – now grown soft in length – as he slowly spreads your legs, with a light you’d never seen before in his eyes.

“Neptune, I revolve around you.”

A wave of anxiety lurches up your throat when he brings his mouth to your cunt, the cloying, imagined scent of moon lilies threatening to tear you out of the moment – he won’t want you wild like this – but it’s forcefully yanked back down with a single stripe of his tongue. His previously casual, authoritative persona cracks when he buries his face into your unkempt curls and lets out a deep, overly pleased moan.

Your back bends and he’s gathering up your limbs in his arms to pin them down, nearly resting his forehead on your pubic bone. A few more licks, some deeper than others into where you drip for him, and your thighs start to shake. His fingers around your thighs squeeze roughly against your flesh and pull you further apart.

Between the flush of slick seeping from you at an embarrassing rate and the wiry hair kept natural out of a certainty no one would see it, he must be drowning or choking, his tongue flicking and sliding, nose prodding your clit just enough to spread the sparks of arousal up through your spine. Feeling as though you’re losing your grip on reality, you sink your hands into his hair, thumb rubbing back that blonde patch, and tug. The moan he shoots into your cunt as he rocks forward into your touch has you whining helplessly. The tarp squeaks where he rubs his hips into it.

His arms curled around your thighs, your hips shake with restraint against every lap of his tongue until he flicks your clit and your hips grind up against his obliging mouth, a sunspot of pleasure flaring brightly. But all too soon, Ezra lifts up onto his elbows, his hands smoothing across your stomach and he pops his mouth up from your wet folds. With an irate gasp, the swell of bliss fading, your gaze snaps down to plead with him, but he shakes his head.

Wordlessly, he takes one hand from your thigh and wipes his mouth clean with a swipe of his fingers. Then, with his eyes wide, the skin around his mouth loose, he crooks two fingers at the top of your mound before sliding them down where his mouth was seconds ago and presses them inside of you. That simmering in your low belly roars back to life and you toss your head against the unforgiving pallet, eyes slamming shut. He growls at the obscene sucking noise your cunt makes as he plucks at you, in and out.

“Oleaginous,” he hums, so quietly, it might have been for him. He tongues your clit lightly, pushing his fingers as deep as they can go, watching you thrash. “Mine. Understand?” You remember that tone of voice from when he had you dissecting throwers on a workbench in front of him. You nod, eyes fluttering open, balancing on the precarious edge of release.

You want to obey his every word.

His thumb twists up, opening your clit to him and within a whispered breath of “good girl” he sucks your bundle of nerves and launches you into orbit.

Your entire body goes stiff from the force of it, only to crash back down into his waiting hands, your voice wavering on a high-pitched, girlish wail that shrieks above the sound of rain. Waves of bliss lap at every nerve ending and your vision goes fuzzy for a minute, the only sound you can register is the pounding of your blood in your ears.

And then you register the steady, wet plunge of his fingers still dragging in and out of your pussy.

“Was that mine?”

Your clit tingles from overstimulation, but you’d rather die than have him stop – you want to answer, if only you could pick up the pieces of your voice. You can only nod, whining. He presses a wet kiss to your inner thigh, the skin there smeared with your release.

“You did a bad thing, letting someone else touch what’s mine.” He scolds, rubs that spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back in your head, holds his finger to it until it burns. You cry, his punishment evident. “Now you have to apologize, Neptune.”

You nod again, mouth wrenched open as he drags you back and forth across pleasure and pain.

“Y-y-yes, Ezra,” the words are bone dry, cracked between your teeth. “I’m sorry.”

Pure wickedness strikes those earth eyes and scorches them a singed black.

“Unfortunately, atonement is a fickle thing,” Ezra tuts, dragging his lips across your thigh in a mockery of a kiss, “and I’m not quite ready to offer absolution. Despite your offerings,” he wipes his mouth with a stroke of his palm, “this godhead remains rigid.”

You whimper. He grins with a mouthful of teeth.

Ezra pulls back onto his knees and shuts your thighs, his hand palming your ass as he indicates that you should turn. Your entire lower half still feels like jelly – no one has ever made you come that hard with just their mouth before – but you obey. You stagger onto your hands and knees in front of him.

His wide palm appears beneath your chin.

“Spit.”

You do.

That spit-wet hand cups your still wet cunt, middle finger rubbing briefly against your clit, before it disappears. You feel him move closer, hear his slick hand pump himself a few times with a grunt. Hot lips drag up your spine, interspersed with the nip of teeth, and when he lays across your back, his hands overtaking yours and threading your fingers together, his bare chest presses up against the skin of your back and you shudder.

He noses your temple, his throbbing cock coated between your folds. He bites at your jaw and follows your line of sight through the open tent flap.

“Breathtaking, isn’t it? All that moisture, dripping and running over smooth rock and fern. All that heat coagulating in spaces it shouldn’t fit. All that . . . open field, for anyone to just wander into. Take a look around and smell the air. Could they smell you like I can, Neptune? The way you leak for this cock?”

As he hums filth in your ear, his hand settles again at the base of your throat, thick fingers squeezing just enough to threaten, before sliding down to your swinging breasts, rough palms catching your swollen nipples, then arching down your stomach and between your legs.

He plays slowly with your clit; barely enough stimulation and he knows it.

“Ask for forgiveness.” He croons in your ear. The breeze returns for a moment, and between the heat of him mounting you like a feral animal and the hesitant touch of outside air against your sweaty chest, you shudder with a groan.

“I’m sorry, Ezra. I’m so–,” his middle finger increases its pressure slightly and the words shatter in your mouth, “sor-ry.”

“And for what?”

He continues to rub between your folds and the minute hitch in his breath is more intoxicating than anything he’s done so far. This is affecting him just as much as it does you. He kisses your jaw then tugs on the skin with his teeth.

“For letting a-anyone but you t-touch me.”

Ezra presses his damp forehead into your shoulder, panting, your correct answers soaking the neurons in his brain. Your reward is the faster stroke of his finger.

“And why was that a reprehensible thing to do?” His hips rut into yours, the scrape and rub of his cock between your slick lips and thighs almost enough to set you off.

“Because it’s yours – I’m yours – f-fuck, Ezra, I’m yours, I only wanna be yours,” you sob.

He’s suddenly gone from above you and the loud crack of his hand against your ass cheek deafens you for a minute, the sting skittering up your back and down your thigh.

“Good fuckin’ girl.”

Your elbows shudder, the weight of his tone, his hand nearly forcing you onto your chest with your ass still in the air. You wanna be so good for him.

He’s breathing hard and his skin is warm and damp where you feel his thigh press against the back of yours. There’s a measure of restraint he’s showing and it makes your heart pound in anticipation. You swing your hips back at him, as if you could catch yourself on his cock.

“I wanna show you I’m yours,” you cry, nails curling into the pallet. “Please, Ezra, please!”

His broad hand settling on your spine draws a hiccup out of you, a sob.

“Breathe . . . Good girls get what they need.”

On an exhale, his blunt tip spreads you apart and he shuffles closer as he thickens inside you. His loud, unabashed moan overwhelms yours, when you think you might just be devoured by him. His hand, the one at your hip, squeezes you, silent reassurance. You can feel the knuckles on his other hand against your slick lips as he feeds himself into you.

“Neptune, talk to me. How,” your cunt tightens around his girth at the sound of his voice coaching you along and he grunts, as if suddenly dizzy, “h-how do you feel?”

“Amazing, Ez. Please keep going don’t stop I can take it–,”

He obliges; something’s reconnected the wires in his brain enough to tell him to move. He huffs before sinking deeper and your eyes roll back in your head. He bottoms out and waits again, letting you both catch your breath.

“Spent a hundred moons thinking about this.” The puff of breath against your shoulder is the only warning you have before he presses his mouth to your skin. His hand free of your clutch, his thumb softly rubs the muscle of your neck. He kisses you and kisses you and kisses you, wherever he finds bare flesh. “Would wake up in the night, with you a few feet from me, looking like divinity made sin, made real, but I wasn’t worthy to touch you. You got me all tongue-tied, Neptune, all mucked up in the head. A silly boy,” he purrs.

You glance over your shoulder, unsure which Ezra is going to meet your eyes, but wanting all of them. The man you feel most safe with in this world and the next greets you and you reach back and squeeze his hand. He chuckles softly, and with it, comes a gentle roll of his hips. You gasp, airily, your gaze slipping from his face to his chest, to the steady breathing in his stomach, and then to the growth of hair that fades as it reaches up his low belly. How many times did you sit across the room from him with your fists in tight balls, watching as he regaled exploits of riches and wonder, all the while thinking about how thick his cock is outlined in his suit – you’re so blinded by breathy dreams of what the musky scent of his cock must taste like that you miss that he’s pulled out farther, halfway now, and you are completely knocked senseless when he thrusts back in, a beat faster.

“Later, Neptune. I’ll let you suck my cock later, but right now I’ve gotta ride this pussy to oblivion.”

Your thighs quake at his promise, cunt squeezing him, and he huffs, picking up speed.

“I felt that. You really like sucking cock that much?”

All you can answer him with is a whine. Your knees are starting to ache from the barest cushion the tarp provides, the palms of your hands sore, but you can’t find it in you to remotely care. With every stroke, he fills you up to a breaking point before riding you back out. Moaning gratefully, you finally drop onto your elbows, your cheek scraping against the pallet with every forceful thrust behind you. He tilts your hips up higher, on one knee to fuck down into you; he’s searching with his cock for that spot that made your brain numb.

Like a flood, you feel bliss roll down your spine, his hands on your lower back pulling you up another peak, and you gasp, at the edge of a very, very long drop, the sounds in the tent as sticky and wet as the rain outside.

But Ezra’s sounds are loudest of them all. Grunting. Hissing. Moaning like he’s fucking the best pussy of his life. You open one eye, glancing over your shoulder and the sight drops open your mouth. Hips pumping forward, skin dewy with sweat, he breathes like a freshly broken-in stallion, relieved that something finally bested him. Chest full and tight with muscle, flushed pink with roaring blood. Stomach torqued with tension. His rhythm is caught between his hands pulling you onto him and his cock thrusting into you. A frantic beat that bounces wet and hot, mouth agape and eyes rolling shut, his head drops back between his shoulders. You push back slightly and he stutters, the hand on your hip tightening.

“Not gonna last, Neptune–” he grits, his jaw locked tight. The image of him actively staving off an orgasm for you to finish first has been imprinted on your brain for the rest of your life.

“J-just a little harder, Ez.”

He obeys, submitting as you had for him, sweat curling around his neck and down his chest.

As release barrels down on you, those mahogany eyes catch and hold yours in a second that lasts through infinity. They promise you things that you didn’t know you asked for, those eyes, made vows only your soul could hear. You see, in that instant before you are swallowed whole, that he’d die at your feet, if you asked him to. He’d give up every worldly treasure he won through grit and his teeth if you needed it or wanted it. If it made you happy.

His Neptune – in the crushing grip of your gravity. Willingly caught in the trail of your comet as you fill up his night sky.

“Yeah, that’s it, right there – Ez-ra!”

His face blown out in near ecclesial bliss is the last thing you see before your vision goes white. Your heart pounds in your ears so loudly, it's the only thing that exists for an instant. And then you shatter with a perfectly soft cry, bliss breaking across you like a heavy wave, and you succumb to exhaustion.

Behind you, he groans, fucking you faster through it, snarling something entirely incomprehensible.

You think you might say his name, you don’t know what your mouth is doing, but whatever you say, it breaks him and you are dragged through another low shock, the flood of cum deep into your achy cunt enough to contract your walls again, his harsh groan stuffing your ears just as full.

The rain is barely louder than your desperate attempts to breathe.

The tarp crackles as you slump forward onto your stomach, Ezra dropping to his side with half his body over yours. Panting raggedly, his hand curls up to the base of your neck, a reassurance of his presence and commitment when words have failed him.

You lay like that for a long time.

And then, when feeling starts to return to your limbs, you turn your head, your nose rubbing against his. When you breathe hotly across his face, he grins a satisfied grin that splits into a chuckle. You laugh with him too, curling up into his chest, his forearm is sticky across your spine, and he kisses your forehead.

Staring up at the tarp, together you listen to the rain.

In the long drawn out, buzzy silence, his nails scratch the base of your skull. And then, like he remembered something vital, he picks his head up and looks at you.

“Do you want this to change things for us?”

“Yes.” You cup the muscles of his thick neck. “Yes, Ezra. I want this to change everything between us. Please.”

He smiles, unguarded and open.

“Wild horses never stood a chance . . . especially against these tits.” He nips at the swell of your breast and you laugh. “I had no plans of letting you go in any case . . . but we are bound from this day forward. You know that, don’t you?”

You nod. A stroke of heat passes over his eyes and Ezra leans forward to kiss you, his hand on your cheek pulling you in close, as close as you can be, two sticky bodies, cum-dried and tingling.

“And if we’re going to spend every year of our lives together, I have a question for you.” he pushes away a stray strand of hair stuck to your face, nose tip to nose tip, “did you have a good birthday, Neptune? Are you satisfied?”

With a giggle that has his eyebrow arching playfully, you kiss his cheek.

“I already told you. This was the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

189 notes · View notes

pedroshotwifey · 2 months

Text

One Condition

This is actually a requested fic from the lovely @survivingandenduring! You can view the request here if you'd like!

Pairing: Marcus Pike x fem!reader x Ezra (Prospect)

Word count: 4.9k

Tags/warnings: unprotected piv sex, sex pollen trope, dubcon, unprotected anal sex, double penetration, oral sex, cum eating, so much cum like its kinda scary, Ezra being a nasty little freak, anal fingering, pain kink, big fat juicy plot twist, this is absolutely nasty shit, stuff I'm probably forgetting, I'm actually not sorry at all for this

Summary: You and your partner, Marcus Pike, get stranded on an inhabited planet and run into problem after problem. You find yourselves in a compromising position that requires help from a strange man, who comes to you with one condition.

A/N: Uhhh. don't look at me 🫣

*****

“Um, Marcus?”

You look at your partner, who has the same worried expression on his face as you.

“Yup.”

It’s not a question. You’re both thinking the same thing; you’re in the wrong place.

It looks similar to the planet you were supposed to be landing on, but most of the scenery here is a lush green instead of the blue hues you’d been expecting. It’d looked the exact same from above the atmosphere, but there is a clear difference now that you’re on the surface.

Marcus mutters a curse under his breath but begins the landing sequence anyway. That’s probably for the best; that way the two of you can figure out where you really were, and then where you actually need to be going.

Dust comes up around your shuttle as you touch ground, the greenery around you rustling a bit as the jets power down. You get up from your seat when you feel the craft settle enough for the floor to be stable.

Marcus follows, shutting everything down and then unbuckling himself from the pilot’s chair. You’re already on the other side of the small contraption, looking through the maps you have stored in the tiny compartment of the far wall. He comes up next to you and pulls up the planet encyclopedias, trying to find a description that matches the world you’ve landed in.

You spend the next few minutes flipping through various books and maps until Marcus comes across a planet that matches. He hands the book over and points at the section.

“Here,” he points. “It looks like we're on a sister planet to the one we’re supposed to be on.”

You hum in agreement, reading the small passage provided next to the picture.

“Alright, well, let’s get her powered back up.”

Your partner sighs, running a hand over his face. You furrow your brows. His face has paled a bit and he seems a bit reluctant to follow your request.

“Is there a problem?”

“Yeah, actually. We’re out of fuel,” he admits, trying and failing miserably to maintain eye contact.

You gape at him.

“Marcus! You were supposed to fill her up before we fucking left! It says here that there’s no civilization!”

He nods along as you scold him, knowing it’s well deserved.

“Yeah, I know. I forgot until we were halfway here, but I knew it would take just enough to get us on planet, and we could get more from there. It’s not like I knew that we would be landing on the wrong planet” He spews it out, not defensive exactly, but regretful.

You groan and walk back to the front of the ship, checking the fuel gauge.

“We’re running on fumes right now, I don’t know if it’s going to be enough to get us to the neighboring planet.”

You look at him, trying to keep your anger from showing up because you know that it was genuinely an accident, and Marcus isn’t usually one to mess up like this. But of course when he does, you get stranded on an unknown planet.

Rubbing your eyes, you walk in a circle around the floor, trying to think of a plan. You can feel Marcus’s guilty eyes following you until you come to a stop.

“Okay,” you start. “The book said that this planet is typically only used for mining aurelac, right?”

Marcus nods slowly, obviously confused as to where you’re going with this.

“Well then there should be at least a few miners on planet in that case, right?”

He nods again, furrowing his brows in thought.

“So we should go out and try to find someone to borrow some fuel from?” he asks.

“Yes. Either that or see if there’s someone who can hitch us a ride.”

He sighs and puts his hands on his hips, his gaze downcast to the floor as he thinks through the options.

“Yeah, seems like our best bet,” he agrees after a minute.

Within a few minutes, you both pack small bags and suit up to withstand the harsh environment of the planet. According to the book, the air is extremely thin and can sometimes hold toxic chemicals depending on other factors. You follow Marcus out of the craft and watch as he makes sure everything’s sealed correctly, before you both start walking into the woods.

“Do you know where you’re going?” you ask after you’ve been walking for a while.”

Marcus looks at you, his expression still holding hints of guilt.

“Not exactly. I think most of the mines are located in the forest though, so we’ll just have to keep walking and hope we come across—”

“Shit, Marcus!”

You yell for him as he stumbles across a root and tumbles down into a pit. It’s not super deep, but just enough so that he could have seriously hurt himself with that fall. You carefully slide down the side of it to join him.

“Are you okay?”

He looks up at you from where he’s planted on his back and groans a bit. He opens his mouth to reply and that’s when you see that his mask is on the ground next to him, crushed into several pieces.

“Shit,” he croaks, already feeling the effects of the thin air.

You crouch down beside him, feeling him up for any injuries.

“Does anything hurt?”

“Just my head. It’s fucking pounding.”

You sigh. “Probably from lack of airflow.”

“C’mon,” you grunt, threading your arms under his. “Let’s get you back and hope that you don’t die.”

He glares at you but allows you to help him into a sitting position.

“Well, isn’t this unfortunate? Two little birds trapped in a cage.”

You both jolt at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. You peer up to the top of the pit and find a man standing near the ledge, a blaster aimed directly at your head. He wears a shabby, brown suit with a bulbous helmet that would be almost funny looking if not for the imminent threat he poses. You slowly raise your hands and start to stand back up, a rush of fear creeping up your spine.

“We’re not armed,” you start. “My friend’s mask just broke; we need help.” You try not to sound too panicked as you explain your situation to the stranger, praying to whoever may be listening that he’s not planning to shoot both of you.

“Don’t worry gem, I don’t want to kill you. I simply would like to assure myself that neither of you had plans of my own execution.”

You furrow your brows at his choice of wording, his strange drawl only adding to your confusion.

“I, uh. No.” What else can you really say to that?

You glance down at Marcus and see the same befuddled expression on his face.

“I will warn you that your…friend”—he cocks a brow at you as he says it—”has chosen a rather unfortunate time to lose his filtration system. Assuming, of course, you haven’t already discovered the effects of the tainted oxygen.”

You shake your head as your mouth goes dry.

“Is—is he going to be okay?”

The stranger pauses for a moment as if in thought. He cocks his head and then looks back at you.

“He should be as long as he receives the assistance he should require.”

“What do you mean by that?” This comes from Marcus.

The stranger frowns and lowers his gun, which he seems to have just remembered he was still holding up.

“Are you not familiar with this planet’s cycles?”

You both shake your heads.

The man sighs and kneels on the ledge extending a hand. You stare at it, neither of you making a move toward him.

“Do you want to stay in this pit? I think it would be rather unsanitary to do so under your current circumstance.”

You flash another glance at Marcus, who nods slightly toward you, encouraging you to take the other man’s hand. You step forward and place your palm in his, allowing him to pull you up, and then you kneel to help him hoist Marcus up as well.

“I’m Ezra,” the man says once the three of you are standing. You introduce the two of you as well, figuring at this point that the stranger has to be at least mostly harmless.

“Alright, well tell me, little bird; are you and Marcus of the romantic type?”

You just stare at him, unsure of how to answer that, nor of why he would feel the need to ask in the first place. You can feel Marcus’s eyes on you as your cheeks begin to burn.

“I–uh…”

You let your eyes meet your partner’s, a silent conversation transpiring. You’ve engaged in some less than appropriate activities throughout your travels, but it’s always been strictly for stress release or simply a product of boredom. The last few months, it’s been more of an unspoken thing.

The two of you care for each other and behave as most couples would, but you’ve never actually given each other the labels. You definitely never thought that the deciding conversation would be in the presence of a strange man who seems to be about to deliver some bad news. You’re about to answer when Marcus gives you a short nod, lifting the burden off of your shoulders.

“Yeah, we are.”

The man nods, though he’s clearly amused. You’re sure he can see what just happened and must have used context clues to figure the rest out out.

“That’s fortunate for you. What’s circulating in the air currently is what could be described as an aphrodisiac. I’m sure you’re familiar with such?”

You and Marcus exchange yet another glance.

“Yes, we’ve heard of them,” you say.

“Do you have a craft nearby?” Ezra asks, peering behind you as if he could spot one he missed before.

You hesitate before answering. Even if he’s seemed to be helpful so far, can you really be sure it isn’t a trap?

“We have a shuttle,” you decide on just to be on the safe side. “We’re out of fuel though. That’s why we're out here in the first place,” you add just in case the man has some extra laying around for some miraculous reason.

Just then, you near a heavy thud and a groan. You spin on your heel to find Marcus keeled over, his hands over his groin and his exposed skin covered in a layer of sweat more intense than what’s normal for this climate. You’re on your knees beside him within a second, your hands running over him until he flinches away as if you’d burned him.

“Marcus! What’s happening?” You aim your question at Ezra, who’s still standing above the two of you with an almost pitying expression.

“The effects are getting to him, little dove. I’m afraid you’re going to need to help him in a timely manner.”

You think for a moment, knowing getting your partner all the way back to your shuttle is going to be a difficult task in the state that he’s in.

“I have a camp not too far from our current location, I’m willing to offer up the space on one condition. And before you protest, we both know it’s not safe to engage in life saving activities out here in the open.”

You stiffen at this. Of course there’s a catch; it’s not common to receive help from a random stranger without them expecting anything in return. You glance down to make sure his gun is still in its holster before narrowing your eyes at his face, not liking the way his smile has turned a bit wolfish.

“What do you want? We don’t have any coin.”

“Oh, no, gem. I don’t want your profits. I simply desire to join you and your handsome partner. It’s been a long time since I had something other than my own fist to keep me company.”

“What?” you bark, slightly humiliated that he would suggest something like that, regardless of how handsome he may be. “No, I’m sleeping with a stranger in exchange for shelter!”

“Now don’t get feisty, dove. I didn’t say it had to be you,” he says, watching Marcus with a newfound hunger. “Though it would probably be fortunate for your friend here that it was, assuming he is of the hetero kind.”

“Don’t,” Marcus croaks, looking up at you the best he’s able to.

You’re torn, knowing that Marcus needs help quick, but not wanting to give either of you up to this man. When it comes down to it though, you’re always going to choose what’s best for your partner. You look up at the man with disdain, knowing that you’re not going to have much of a choice here.

“Fine. But not him.”

Ezra’s smile broadens.

“Very well, gem. Right this way.”

He turns around and waits for you to get a near-delirious Marcus about halfway up so he’s propped by one of your shoulders. Noticing your struggle, Ezra comes to his other side and mirrors your position, one hand supporting around his waist.

As you walk, Marcus’s temperature keeps rising and his groans get worse. Fortunately, the man wasn’t lying when he said he had a camp nearby; you only have to walk for about a minute before coming across it.

He opens up the flap as you get closer, taking the zipper all the way down and helping you ease Marcus in. As you lay him down, you can see the bulge in his flight suit; almost twice what is normal. You hear Ezra zip the opening back up and then step in behind you.

“F-fuck, I’m sorry, I can’t–”

Marcus cuts himself off as he shakily pulls down the zipper on his suit, revealing his undershirt and boxers. His hand goes down the latter not a second later, a pornographic moan coming from him as his hand makes contact with his engorged cock. He starts stroking himself under the fabric, panting heavily, and it makes your mouth go dry despite the circumstances.

“Shit, I-it’s not enough,” he grits out, pumping furiously. There are tears in his eyes as he looks at you, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Better help him quick, little bird,” Ezra quips from behind you, already removing his attire as well. You comply, though for which man you’re not sure.

You strip quickly, the three of you tearing your own clothes off at the same time, each of you stark naked at the end. You feel so exposed between the two of them, especially with Ezra, who doesn’t help at all by giving a lewd whistle at the sight of your bare body.

You give him a look so nasty that you’re surprised he doesn’t drop dead. He raises his hands in defense.

“Woah, little bird, I meant it only as a praise.”

You ignore him and turn to Marcus, who’s just now shoving his boxers off. You gasp when his dick springs up, heavy, red, throbbing, and leaking an obscene amount of precum. It’s swollen to a point that looks almost painful.

You swallow your nerves and try your best to ignore Ezra as you instruct Marcus to lay down on the cot. He tugs you with him, feral to get to you at this point. You fall over him and he immediately starts sucking and licking all the skin he can get to, his hips thrusting up into nothing.

You see Ezra move out of the corner of your eye, taking a seat in the single chair inside the small tent. You lift your head as much as you can to make sure he’s not going to try anything.

“Carry on, gem. I’m a patient man; I can wait my turn.”

If you’re being honest, he looks a little too smug.

Suddenly Marcus is flipping you over, shoving you down to the bed on your back, whispering something you can’t quite catch. He doesn’t wait another second before you feel his cock at your underprepared cunt, and your eyes barely have a chance to go wide before he’s forcing himself into you, groaning wildly as he tugs you down onto him.

It’s only then that you realize he had been whispering “sorry”.

You scream and your hands come up to reflexively try to get him off. There are tears as he keeps shoving himself in, stretching you to your limit. Through your blurry vision, you can see tears in his as well, more of shame than of pleasure by his sympathetic expression.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“N-no,” you squeak even as your hands claw at his back from the discomfort. “It’s okay. Don’t stop. Even if I beg you to.”

You close your eyes and try not to focus on the uncomfortable feeling between your legs as Marcus begins to unrelentingly slam his hip into yours. You hear a sound coming from beside you, and turn to see Ezra pumping himself through your blurry vision. It’s a sight that really shouldn't turn you on as much as it does.

You moan despite yourself as the pain coming from your sore cunt turns into pleasure. You’re getting wetter and wetter as the seconds tick by, the glide of your partner’s cock becoming easier and more toe-curling. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he starts to punch that spot deep inside you. You’re getting hot fast, sweat building up in every crease and crevice as your pussy seems to get more hungry for what Marcus is feeding it.

Each thrust sends you up the bed, but Marcus holds onto you so that you don’t go too far. He’s grunting like a feral animal, his body maneuvering every which way until he finds the position that provides him with the most momentum.

“Ohh that feels so fucking good, baby,” he hisses through his teeth. “Gods, you always take me so f-fucking well.”

You’ve never heard him talk like this before—with this level of vulgarity. You whimper, making eye contact with Ezra as Marcus nails something even more delicious within you. His gaze is heavy and on your face rather than on your body, which surprises you as much as it flatters you.

“Does she suck cock just as well?” Ezra’s deepened voice comes from the chair, his eyes still on you as he asks the question.

Marcus looks down at you, albeit with heavy lids, for your consent. You nod, already fucked out beyond thinking clearly.

“Better,” comes Marcus’s reply, his stare just as heavy as Ezra’s. “Why don’t you come see for yourself?”

You moan at the thought of being taken from both ends, one of the domineering men on each side. This is going much better than anticipated, both your mind and body opening to the stranger despite your earlier protest.

Ezra doesn’t have to be asked twice, already getting up to hover his thick cock over your face, slapping it gently against your lips. The cot is the perfect height for him to stick it into your mouth, though he waits.

“You want this, gem?”

You almost find it funny that he’s asking, considering he didn’t give you much of a choice earlier. You nod anyway, because you honestly do, your gaze is trained on it as your mouth waters. He threads one hand through your hair, pulling you into the right position, and then uses his tip to part your lips.

He moans as he sinks in, his eyes fluttering shut as you immediately wrap your tongue around him. You find yourself groaning at his salty taste, savoring the weight of him as you start to pull him in. Your cunt throbs as he and Marcus both moan out at the same time, Marcus doubling over while Ezra bottoms out.

Marcus brings one hand to your clit and begins rubbing up and down at a furious pace that would have made you scream if not for the other man’s cock in the way. Tears leak from your eyes as Ezra begins to pump in and out of you, his hips thrusting as he uses the hand in your hair to hold you where he wants.

“Oh you feel devine, little gem,” he moans, his eyes still closed and his lips parted as he picks up the pace. You can feel him hitting deep inside your throat, making you resist the urge to choke. It’s overwhelming but in the best way.

“Oh, fuck!” Marcus nearly shouts the curse as his hips stutter. “Come with me baby, come on,” he urges, moving his hand quicker.

Your back arches up at the feeling, though you’re still pinned by both men. Suddenly, everything flashes white, your hearing going dull as your entire body convulses with the power of your orgasm. You have just enough brain capacity to think that this has got to be the highest level of pleasure attainable.

It goes on forever, your pussy pulsing as you sob and moan around Ezra’s cock. You faintly hear Marcus’s own moans and feel his dick twitch and throb within you, coating your walls in his creamy white spend.

You don’t even realize you had closed your eyes until you open them again upon feeling your own drool dribbling down your cheeks to mix with your tears. Ezra coos down at you, wiping away the saliva though he doesn’t dare slow his pace.

“M-messy little bird,” he laughs.

You glance back down at Marcus the best you can just to realize that he’s still hard as a fucking rock. He’s still riding out his own high, rocking slowly to prolong it as much as possible. His eyes flick back up to yours after a moment, and then to Ezra’s who watches him intently as he continues to defile your throat.

The gurgling sounds coming from you should be downright disgusting, but they only add to the eroticness of what the three of you are doing right now. The tent seems to have filled with the thick scent and humidity of sex, making your head even more foggy than provided by your orgasm.

Ezra’s not far after the two of you, grunting heavily and pulling on your hair to a painful level. He pulls out and strokes himself over your face, letting his cum splatter across your features right after you close your eyes. His thumb comes to your lips, making you open your mouth as he moans aloud.

Some of his seed falls on your tongue, and you swallow it down as Ezra finishes the last few spurts. You open your eyes when you’re sure he’s done, panting and gasping despite your sore throat.

It’s at the same time that the two men pull away from you, and you’re extremely confused until you see that they’re maintaining eye contact, seeming to have had a silent conversation while you’d been distracted.

Suddenly, you’re being lifted by the both of them, your body being rearranged to their preference. You’re so fucking tired, but you do your best to comply with their actions. You’re being lifted onto Ezra’s lap when you finally understand their plan.

His cock is only half-hard after his orgasm, but he begins rutting himself against you regardless as Marcus disappears from your line of sight. You half-collapse on Ezra, moaning as your clit gets stimulated thanks to his thrusts.

“Second drawer, pretty boy,” he pants. You hear shuffling and then Marcus returning behind you before you get the chance to ask what he was doing. There’s a pop from behind you, and then a cold substance at your ass.

You yelp at the unexpected feeling, only to be shushed by Ezra.

“Hush now, gem. I’ve heard you have experience in this area.”

He smirks at you as your cheeks heat.

You moan suddenly as Marcus slips a finger past your tight ring of muscle, pumping a good few times before adding a second. He leans close and whispers praise into your ear, telling you how good you’re being for them, how well you’re taking it all.

He works you up to three fingers before he pulls his hand from you and helps lift you up, propping you up enough for Ezra to notch his tip at your thoroughly soaked cunt. You help the slow descent down his shaft, your lips parting and eyes pinching shut at the sensation.

Ezra chokes on a groan, squeezing both of your ass cheeks as you bottom out.

“Fuck, little birdy, your heavenly cunt should be reserved for those of immortal status.”

You don’t even have the energy to cringe at his wording, instead savoring the way he fills you so nicely, not as long as Marcus, but a good bit thicker. The coarse hairs above his cock rub against your oversensitive clit nicely, making you want to rut against him. Just then, you feel Marcus settle in behind you again, dragging you partially onto his lap so you’re over his cock.

“Ready, sweetheart?” He asks, clearly having regained some of his gentlemanly status after quelling his lust a bit. You whimper and nod at him, and he starts to push inside of you.

“Oh, Gods,” you moan, wrapping your arms around Ezra’s back and digging your nails in for stability. He hisses and increases his grip on your ass, keeping you spread for Marcus as his hips come flush against you.

You’re already so full it’s dizzying, so when the two men start to move, you think you may come on the spot. Ezra goes first, pulling out a bit and then sinking back in, which is when Marcus makes his move, repeating the other man’s actions. Your knees are planted on the cot, giving you the opportunity to move with them.

The three of you are panting, moaning messes, hot breaths fanning across each other’s skin as you nuzzle together. The pace starts out slow, but quickly picks up, increasing your combined noises. Both of the men start to grab at you, moving their hands and groping anything and everything they’re able to.

You can feel their cocks rubbing against your middle wall, creating an intoxicating feeling that you know you’ll miss when this is over. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, being so full you can feel them in your stomach.

Small whimpers begin to spill from your mouth, but are quickly caught by Ezra, who captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, his spend from earlier mixed between your tongues. It’s difficult to keep it up with how much you’re being jostled, so he gives up after a moment and instead opts to lick his cum off of your sweaty cheek. You’re pleasantly surprised when you feel Marcus’s hand come up to grasp at your chin, tilting your face so that he’s able to do the same on the opposite side.

The two of you clean your face with their tongues as they thrust into you at a punishing pace, somehow hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. You let out a raspy groan, your hands scrambling over both of their bodies for purchase.

A heat is beginning to build once again in your abdomen, pleasure licking up your spine. It only takes a few more alternating thrusts before you’re coming around their cocks with a scream. You tighten around both of their throbbing cocks, getting them closer to their own ends.

Marcus comes first once again, still slightly affected by the drug from earlier. He bites onto your shoulder as he busts inside of you, slamming his hips up and locking in place, his hands coming up to squeeze your tits as his balls empty into your ass.

Ezra follows right after, seemingly liking Marcus’s idea of a gag, and biting into your other shoulder. You scream again at the pressure of both men’s teeth, your arms raising so you can grasp both of their hair, holding them close.

Your orgasm lingers for as long as theirs do, the three of you coming completely down at the same time. You stay in a sweaty heap for a long time, just trying to catch your breath and make sense of what’s real and what’s not.

You all fall apart after a few minutes, exhaustion officially taking over you. You can feel both of the men’s cum leaking from your holes as they pull out and help you lay comfortable on the cot. They get situated next to you, and you’re all out like lights within the next minute.

The next morning, Ezra’s waiting for the two of you with a portable can of fuel and an extra mask. Your departure is swift and unawkward, Ezra walking with the two of you back to your ship like you’ve known each other for years. It takes a bit longer than it should due to your body being practically fucking wrecked from last night, but both of the men help you get along.

When you reach your craft, you all say your goodbyes, knowing this will more than likely be the last time you’ll come across this strange man. To be frank, you’re still a bit confused about what exactly transpired last night, but you choose to ignore it. Your head is pounding with what feels like the worst hangover you’ve ever had, and you’re just eager to get off of this nightmare planet.

Ezra watches you fuel up your craft and then take off, smiling and honestly quite satisfied with himself. Neither of you even figured it out that he was the one who planted the trap and laced the dirt pit with the drug, nor that he may have let a bit more slip inside his tent.

***** I mean really, do we really expect anything less from Ezra?

Please consider interacting if you enjoyed this fic!!

169 notes · View notes

paisley-print · 2 years

Text

Midnight & Daybreak Series List

This series is 18+ / This series is rated for Mature Audiences only / This series contains a large amount of potential triggers reader discretion is advised.

After your husband suddenly starts shutting you out, you sneak into his office to find clues as to why. You expected an affair…..what you didn’t expect to find was a file that detailed plans to use his late wife’s DNA in a new method of cloning. You decided to confront him.

Midnight Series

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Daybreak Series

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty One

Chapter Thirty Two

Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Four

Chapter Thirty Five

Chapter Thirty Six

Chapter Thirty Seven

Epilogue

#pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey fanfic #agent whiskey x you #kingsman fanfiction #kingsmen fanfic #jack daniels x y/n #jack daniels x you #ezra prospect fanfic #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you

107 notes · View notes

imtryingmybeskar · 2 years

Text

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

44 notes · View notes

magpiepills · 13 days

Text

Sagittarius

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Ezra x f reader

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: you and Ezra in your pod.

Warnings: SMUT! PIV, helmet riding, slight bondage? Idk what else.

A word from the author: has anyone done riding Ezra’s helmet yet? No matter. Here’s mine. With gratitude to the mutuals and the magic sluts.

Your meeting was an improbability on a largely deserted moon. He had talked so sweet, so flattering, so genteel. Like chloroform on a pretty handkerchief. Lorenzo fell for it, too. Lorenzo always was a sucker.

Ezra says he’s sorry.

Sorry he tried to rob you. Sorry he shot your husband dead. Even if Lorenzo did shoot first, you had really wanted to be the one to dispatch the conniving bastard, and he took that from you. The way he squirmed and huffed now, well, that’s his own doing.

If robbery and murder weren’t great enough offenses, he’d had the gall to track you all the way back to your rented pod and barge right in. He couldn’t just get away with that.

You’d heard him. He rattled the door, forced it open, metal creaking and groaning against rusted metal followed by heavy boots thudding against the corrugated metal floor. You’d already stripped down to your tank top and underwear, a futile attempt at staving off the humid heat of Bakhroma Green. There was no time to get dressed now. You held your thrower in both hands, finger itching at the trigger and your back against the brittle plastic of the pod walls. Fool as he was, he came in head first. When the butt of your Frontiersman didn’t quite connect with the required force, Ezra wheeled around and snatched your weapon away, flinging it clear across the pod.

Incensed, you charged at him. Grabbing him, wrenching his arm back and pulling until he hollered and fell forward. You let his weight drop onto the floor, he groaned and bared his teeth, writhing pathetically at your feet. Good. Serves him right. You watched him for a moment, hands on your hips and head cocked. There wasn’t time to consider the next step in dealing with your intruder. He was on the floor and you had the upper hand. You couldn’t let him get up, that was certain.

No sooner was your mind made than you threw yourself on him, doing your best to pin him down and get him into a headlock or something to incapacitate him long enough for you to toss him back out of the ship and leave him to die. Ezra grunted and panted, bucking and rolling, trying his best to throw you off of his back. You held your own as long as you could, but he was furious and strong. In a flash he grabbed your hair and flipped you both, knocking the wind from your lungs. The ensuing melee saw you tumbling and flailing about the pod, each of you trying hard to get the other to stay still. Panting, sweating, grunting, swearing. You aren’t sure how you end up on his back, holding him with his arms bent. Thankfully, he had no energy left to fight, because neither did you. You needed to tie him up.

It wasn’t ideal. None of this was, really. It was a shit show from the start and you’ve just had to accept that and somehow get through it. You did the only thing you could do under the circumstances and you tied him up with your panties. The fabric was probably cutting off his circulation and the knot may not hold long, but it was good enough. You did your best to put out of your mind the fact that you’re naked from the waist down now. It didn’t matter if he saw, you told yourself. As quickly as possible you were going to be shoving him out the hatch and leaving him far behind.

You flipped your captive onto his back, muzzle of your recovered thrower shoved into his chest. With your adversary bound, you relaxed for a moment, catching your breath before you had to haul him out.

You traced your fingertips over his visor. The glass is thick. Scratched and pitted and heavy over his head. Behind it he’s sweating. Small beads on his forehead, nose and cheeks that gathered together and slid down to his hair. It was your first good look at him. He was pretty. What a waste. With his big, round eyes, shiny, pitch-colored things; with his nose, soft aquiline curve, and lips, pouting open now, as he looked pitifully back at you.

He kept those clever eyes trained on yours as you shuffled up closer, knees on either side of his helmet. You rapped gently on the glass, smiling sweetly down at him. You ran your hands over the cool surface, but still he watched you. You lifted the hem of your sweatshirt, and brought it up, up, up over your bare tits, and tossed it aside. You watched with amusement, tilting your head sympathetically to the side as you squeezed and lifted your tits, letting them fall again before gently pinching your nipples. “Mmmm. Feels so good, Ezra. Touch me, please. I know you can make it even better.” You whined, teasing him. He closed his eyes, brows furrowed, muttering something you couldn’t hear under his helmet. “Oh, I forgot. You’re tied up. Well, I guess if you can’t take care of me I’ll have to just do it myself.” You sighed dramatically and rolled your hips, “I think there’s still a way you can help though. You do want to be good, don’t you, Ezra? You want to keep me happy, isn’t that right?” He wet his lips with his tongue and nodded shallowly, eyelids looking heavier. You circled your nipples with your fingertips, teasing them into firm points, caressing down your stomach and your thighs.

He squirmed below you and whined when you jutted your hips forward, pressing your bare pussy against the glass. Ezra stared, frozen as you repositioned, settling right over his line of sight so he could see exactly what you were about to do.

At first your movements were small and deliberate. Your puffy lips pressed lewdly, not quite wet enough, but enjoying the hard, smooth convex of the helmet between your thighs. You watched Ezra. He was entranced, focused intently on your cunt and the reality of how close you were, and the impossibility of his desires. He wanted to flatten and spread those lips with his lips and tongue and nose and chin. He would have had you thoroughly soaked by now if it was up to him, but you took your time.

One hand abandoned his helmet and came back up to pluck and twist at your nipples. You closed your eyes and thought of Ezra behaving himself well enough to deserve having his cock sucked. It was big, you could see that through his suit. It was immediately evident that all of that grappling had stirred something in him. His environmental suit was snug over his straining erection. The thick bulge curved up and across his hip, accentuated by the straps banded around his upper thighs. It was impressive in thickness and length. Shame that a nice cock is wasted on a bastard like him. You wondered if he was cut or if there’d be foreskin to slip back with your lips. You wondered if he would want to come in your mouth, or if he wanted to paint your face and chest with his spend. You thought of how it would taste. You thought of how good it feels to make a strong man so weak.

“Why can’t you be good?” You complained, breathy and unintentional. You didn’t even register that you’d spoken it aloud until another voice, deep and craggy spoke up. “I can be good. Let me.”

It was the first thing he had spoken that hadn’t been a shouted demand, or a threat. It aggravated you. “Shut up.” You snapped at him, he hitched his hips in protest, teeth bared as he watched your arousal slowly seep onto the glass, aiding your gliding movements. It made his mouth water.

Back and forth, a salacious drag right before his eyes, he watched you use his helmet for your pleasure. The delicate inner folds, the swollen bud of your clit, the tender flesh of your lips. Every quickening movement was like a wet, messy kiss, smearing your slick across the smooth plane. He licked his lips and imagined how he would drink you down. He thought of sucking your clit between his lips to feel it twitch.

He didn’t realize how destroyed he looked. Wet and pathetic and mewling. He couldn’t even feel the way your panties bite into his wrists anymore. He didn’t care. He wanted you to have him like this if you wanted.

You hitched closer and closer to your apex with every grind of your hips. The power alone was a potent aphrodisiac, having Ezra, big as he was, under your thumb made you so very wet. He was your plaything, now. Maybe you’d keep him. Use him how you wanted. You could come on his helmet, his thigh, his cock if you wanted to. He wouldn’t fight. Not with the way he looked now. His eyes were inky black and shining, his warm breath fogged the glass above his parted lips. You rode his helmet unashamedly, caring only for your own demented pleasure.

Your orgasm felt like a slow motion electric shock. His face was obscured by the wet mess you’d made. It bubbled and dripped obscenely.

Your panting breath matched the rise and fall of his chest below you. Slowly you began the return to reason, to the reality of your situation. Reality is changeable, though and yours took a turn before your eyes even adjusted from the post-orgasmic haze.

You were on your back in a flash. Ezra was caging you in and smiling bodefully down at you, triumphant. Your face was still flushed from your orgasm, but your joy quickly soured. Your panties lay in tatters beside your head.

“Have you had your fun now?” He mocked. Your release still clung to his helmet and you licked a defiant stripe through it, never dropping his dark gaze. Ezra chuckled and held both your wrists in one hand while he flung off his helmet and tore at the closures of his suit.

“What was your plan? You use me and then what? Leave me high and dry?” He shook his head, feigning disappointment in your carelessness, all the while fighting his way out of the dirty canvas suit, pulling at buttons and straps until one arm was free and his thin, sweat-damp undershirt clung to his broad chest.

You didn’t notice when you’d stopped struggling in his grip, but Ezra certainly did. He clocked the trail your eyes made from his lips to his neck, to his shoulders and down his torso to where the elastic band of his boxers peeked out. He loosened his grip, shook his other arm from its sleeve, and puffed out his chest. His suit sagged down his narrow hips, as he reached for the collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head in one swift motion. What a sight he was. Muscular but soft, rough but tender. The thick swell of his now turgid member pulled at his boxers.

He palmed over it, emphasizing the length with the slow drag of his hand.

He licked his lips. “Go on.” He challenged. “Tell me to be good again.”

The air inside the pod had become thick and heavy, your skin was warm and your joints all felt too loose. The snarl you had intended came out as a ragged plea of his name.

Ezra was gentler than you’d expected. He let go of your wrists with a pointed look meant to keep you from doing anything rash, and began to explore your body. He squeezed your hips, kneading the yielding flesh, then sliding his hands up your sides, letting his fingers follow the shape of your ribs. He caressed over your belly, circling your belly button with his thumb. He watched as your chest rose and fell. He slid his palms up, flat against your skin as he pushed your bare tits together.

You could feel his hips shifting against you, feel the weight of his bulge against your cunt while he dropped to his elbow to bring your nipple to his mouth. His touch was firm. You could feel the hunger and need in the way he licked and sucked at your pointed nipples. He was holding back.

“Tell me.” He repeated. His voice was deeper, gravelly.

Your eyes fluttered closed and for a moment you wondered what came next. You knew what he wanted from you in this moment, but after that? You didn’t have the strength to fight him again. You released the breath you had been holding and asked him once more: “Be good, Ezra.”

There was little resistance when he plunged into you. He watched your face as you took what he gave, the way your mouth fell open and your head tipped back as he buried himself deep in your wet heat.

He hooked his arms under your shoulders, keeping you beneath him, as if you’d dream of leaving now. He grunted with the force of his hips pounding down into you, each heavy stroke forcing breathy cries from you. “Ah! Ah! Ahh! Ezra!”

“Is this good enough?” He asked, slowing his pace and looking down into your unfocused eyes. He looked further, down the planes of your sweat-slick bodies to where he stretched you in his cock. He rolled his hips just so, catching your clit with the wet hair at the base of his cock. You came, and he could feel your pounding pulse through the thin skin of your neck where he nibbled and sucked. When your body settled he redoubled his thrusts, palming your breast and panting into your neck until the moment he pulled out and spilled across your cunt.

The pod was silent, save for your heavy breaths, and you watched Ezra with caution. He was looking around, taking in the blinking lights and muted beeping of the control panel. He looked curious. Maybe resigned. He rubbed your thigh and you lay beside him on the floor, too aware of how your initial plan of escape was now useless. Your brain too scrambled from the force of your orgasm to formulate a new one.

Perhaps fortunately, you didn’t need to. Ezra squeezed your knee and leaned over you. He kissed you slowly and tenderly. Then, quietly, he whispered against your lips “give me the starter.”

#ezra prospect #Ezra prospect 2018 #Pedro pascal Ezra #Ezra #ezra smut #prospect 2018 #prospect smut #pedro pascal characters #ezra fanfiction #Ezra fanfic #the Ezra pod #bat x Ezra #Pedro pascal character smut #smut #Pedro pascal character fanfiction #ezra x you #ezra x reader #ezra x female reader

131 notes · View notes

netherfeildren · 1 year

Text

Masterlist:

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

Fear of God : Joel Miller x OFC

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

-OR-

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

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

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

-OR-

A Joel infidelity AU

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

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

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

Enter: the creation of myth.

-OR-

the mandalorian / dark sider au

Pink : Joel Miller x F!Reader

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

-OR-

the father-in-law AU

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

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

She'll still come for you.

-OR-

the A/B/O outbreak AU

One Shots :

bétteln : Joel Miller x F!Reader

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

biéten : Joel Miller x F!Reader

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

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

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

Murder and sex ensue!

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

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

Joel Miller is one of them.

-OR-

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

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

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

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

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

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

-OR-

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

Evermore : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: The Thanksgiving AU

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

Summary: The New Year’s Eve AU

10:05 PM : Joel Miller x F!Reader

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

How to Endure Ardor : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel teaches you how to love him.

Notes On a Virtuous Affair : Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: One would think this road ends in something virtuous—a greenness so dazzling it hurt the eyes—and not the sort of man waiting in his far out removed solitude.

At the Restaurant : Din Djarin x F!Reader

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

-OR-

the Christmas situationship AU

Forfeiting My Mystique : Ezra x F!Reader

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

-OR-

An Ezra Art Collector AU

Austerlitz : Simon (Ghost) Riley x F!Reader

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

-OR-

Ghost goes away, comes back in a maybe dream.

835 notes · View notes

whoreforthemandalor · 2 years

Text

the waves clasp one another (chapter three)

Pairing: Ezra x afab!reader (no physical descriptions, no y/n)

Series Rating: M for now, will be updated to E in later chapters and will be tagged as such

Chapter Rating: T, but this blog is 18+ so MINORS SCRAM

Tags/Content Warnings for Series: SLOW BURN!!; adventure; peril; discussions of disease; canon typical violence; thalassophobia tw; Ezra is his own warning; Smut (eventually!)

Tags/Content Warnings for Chapter: disease/brief mentions of death; animal neglect; humans being shitty; teenage angst.

Chapter Summary: Several explanations and a few introductions.

Word Count: 2.3k

a/n: thank you once again to my lovely @imtryingmybeskar @darkstarcomics for beta reading this for me!! I really appreciate you!! ❤️

*****

Honest to Kevva, it wasn’t like you were always pissed off. It was more the fact that your job wasn’t exactly...simple.

Keeping an endangered species away from the perilous edge of extinction wasn’t a task that most would willingly commit themselves to, but this subspecies of mustelidae was especially difficult. On top of their niche diet of a certain species of shellfish being hard to come by due to poaching by humans, and the problem of their preferred natural environment being isolated, underwater caverns, it was nigh on impossible to figure out a way to turn your sweet little albino charges into the sex-crazed heathens that their Terran-born counterparts had been, but frankly, the creature’s low birth rate was the least of your problems. The enhydra Chelrothica fodiens had gone completely undiscovered for millennia, and had managed to keep themselves unbothered for many hundreds of years past that. Things had truly been fine for your charges until some rich assholes discovered that the shellfish that made up the majority of their diet were, allegedly, an incredible aphrodisiac.

The little blue-shelled creatures were almost hunted to extinction half a hundred years before, nearly wiping out the fodiens at the same time. The only thing that had stopped both species’ complete erasure was a group of scientists that had stepped in at the second-to-last moment, determined to prevent the loss of yet another micro-ecosystem to the greed of people who had more money than sense. The Conservation for the Proliferation of Endangered Species had been founded by your biologist grandparents and a number of other like-minded scientists, and they had passed their passion project onto their children, and then their grandchildren later. Between you and all your cousins, not to mention the children and grandchildren of all the other founding members, the fodiens and other endangered species on this side of the galaxy were being closely monitored at all times. Sometimes it felt like overkill to have such a tight grip on the fodiens, but the Conservation’s collective zealotry was the only thing keeping a dangerous problem at bay.

What all those rich assholes didn’t realize was that, though they had enough money to pay hundreds of points per shell to fuel for their hedonistic lifestyles, there was no amount of money in the galaxy that could save them from a potentially hideous end. The molluscs that they loved so much were potential carriers for a prion disease, a type of misfolded protein contained in the deoxyribose nucleic acid of the molluscs that was transmissible to humans in the event that they slurped down enough of the wrong ones. The disease would then be passed onto the next unsuspecting host, the person unlucky enough to have shot blindly in the dark and sent a thrower bolt through their own brain. The prions would then take up a sinisterly quiet residence in their grey matter, staying dormant for years before ripping the rug out from under the person within a matter of weeks.

The infected person would seem fine for at least a few years post-exposure, with the first signs that something was wrong being issues with balance and fine motor skills, followed by general memory loss and personality changes. It always progressed quickly after the memory loss began; the victims wouldn’t know up from down within the week and it ended with the poor unfortunate bedridden and unable to move or speak, wasting away in front of their loved ones without a treatment or any answers until they died. If they were suspected to have partaken of the molluscs within the previous two decades, a biopsy of the deceased’s brain was always ordered, conducted under vacuum and with the medical examiners in entirely self-contained hazmat suits, since it wasn’t clear how prolific the disease could become once the human host had passed from it. That was how serious this problem was.

Luckily for the fodiens, their digestive enzymes contained something of an antiserum for the prion, causing it to be neutralized before absorption, which was another part of the problem. The fodiens were being farm-raised for that property alone, and The Conservation was left to deal with the consequences of abandoned fodiens after their prime breeding year. The intergalactic-government sponsored scientists who were charged with optimizing this program, to harvest the enzymes at their peak, at least had the wherewithal to dump the animals past their peak usefulness onto a planet that actually contained a flourishing population of their main food group. So, here you were, working with the fodiens to prepare them for reintroduction to the wild environment they were meant to be born into.

The weight of this burden had been feeling heavier in recent years, and you were almost ready to let someone else carry that mantle for a while. The pressures of the job aside, you also had the expectations of your family and cohort on your shoulders; graduating with two post-doctorates at a tender age, when most of your peers had only just finished their undergraduate work, meant that you were not only the head of the research division but also the liaison between The Conservation and those knuckleheaded scientists and their flippant, flagrant neglect of the fodiens.

Hence why you’re waiting in The Blind Shark for your understudy to arrive. A sweet little gal named Cee, whom you had exchanged quite a few messages with after her acceptance. She was a girl on the cusp of womanhood, trying to find her way and passion in the vast galaxy. She had written at length about her qualifications for the program as well as her travels as an assistant to her father’s ambitions. She had touched on his death on the Green Moon, which was as infamous for its aurelac as it was its poisoned atmosphere.

You had cried for Cee, after that last message. Not for losing her father, but for being alone in such an inhospitable place.

*****

You drum your fingers against the surface of the small high top table, waiting for the exterior bar door to open. You had been sitting there drowsily watching people come and go for close to an hour before the door banged open and caused you to jerk to attention in your seat.

The first thing you notice is the fresh-faced young blonde, standing in the doorway and shivering from the cool air outside. On your first glance, your eyes land on the utility pants and heavy jacket she wears, as well as the long blade strapped to her thigh. Ah, a wary traveler. She’s seen more than her fair share of the world, you surmise.

The young woman peers around the dimly lit interior of the bar and you feel your eyes catch hers for a moment longer than would be appropriate for someone just passing through. A grin lights her face, and she makes a quick path through the tables to the empty seat beside you. She plops down unceremoniously and sticks out a hand to shake.

“My name’s Cee, you must be the one I’m looking for.”

Her introduction is succinct, and she carries a calm presence now that she is sitting next to you and you instantly feel yourself relax a bit. You give her your name and confirm that you are the one she had been seeking out. Both of your smiles are warm enough to dissipate any lingering awkwardness.

“I’m surprised you were able to pick me out so easily in this crowd,” you tell her. You’d tried your best to blend into the patrons at the bar so you could get a true reckoning of your charge, so the fact that she was able to pick you out almost immediately spoke of an astuteness that was unexpected.

Cee’s lips twisted wryly and she leaned closer into your side before speaking. “It wasn’t hard to find the only female xeno in here that’s dressed for practicality.”

You give her a wide grin, but it falters a bit when you see who had been hidden behind Cee’s approaching form.

The tall, golden-skinned man who ambles up to the table is a pleasant surprise. He’s disarmingly handsome, with wavy, deep brown hair a shade lighter than his warm eyes and a surprisingly lithe curved nose. His full lips part to reveal a gleaming smile directed at you. A blonde streak above his right temple peeks out from under his bright blue beanie and is charming in a way you hadn't been expecting, falling gently over his forehead to accentuate his dark eyes and brows. You were so captivated by his face that it took you a moment to notice the most obvious thing about him.

His right arm was missing. At least partially, anyway.

At your first cursory glance it had escaped you, as it was well hidden by his jacket. The loose way that the sleeve moved had your eyes tracing down the arterial seam to where his right hand should be, but it was conspicuously absent. Your eyes skimmed over it, noting it but not lingering long. It piqued your curiosity to learn how that had happened; it looked like a somewhat fresh injury from the way the man turned his body half-away from you, as if he didn’t want you to see it. You feel a heat creep up your neck when you realize you’d been staring at the man for a bit too long, but Cee thankfully saves the moment without calling attention to the long silence.

“This is my guardian Ezra. He absolutely insisted on coming with me, even though he read through your credentials and said that he had the utmost faith in you to protect me,” Cee announced, glancing between you and Ezra with a roll of her eyes.

You stick your left hand out, palm open to him in an invitation to grasp it, and peer up at Ezra with a wide, genuine smile on your face.

“It’s certainly a pleasure to meet you, Ezra. Cee waxed poetic about you in our messages before our meeting today so I feel privy to almost all of your secrets.” Your smug smirk is met with a glow in Ezra’s sparkling dark eyes, as if he’s sizing you up. His warm, large hand meets your own and his handshake is firm but surprisingly gentle.

“The pleasure is entirely mine, doctor.” He lowers his lips to your hand, and the breath he expels before pressing those plush lips against your knuckles, the warmth of it, makes your own breath hitch in your throat. You try to keep your expression as neutral as possible but your eyes soften sweetly as Ezra raises his gaze to look at you. “My apologies for the intrusion onto your routine, my headstrong ideals concerning guardianship required that I accompany my little Birdie here on one last foray before she sets off into the vast unknown upon completion of this program and obtaining her degree.”

“Kevva above, can you rein it in, Ezra?” Cee huffs from your left side. You break eye contact with Ezra to turn toward Cee, and see that her expression is almost thunderous but not directed at you. She has her eyes firmly on Ezra, and he releases your hand and lifts his own as if in apology. The slightly chagrined look on his face is enough to have you biting back a laugh.

“It’s completely fine Cee, Ezra was just-” you start to say, but Cee cuts you off with an exasperated sigh. From the look on Ezra’s face, a rant is incoming.

“Sorry doctor, it’s just that I barely received clearance from my prison warden here to come on this trip. I don’t need him making eyes at you and making this weird. You know, Ez, none of my classmates had their programs chaperoned by their parents,” the last part being directed at Ezra makes a slight scowl form on his face, eyebrows drawing together and you can’t help but to find the little crease between them terribly endearing.

“Birdie, I thought we had resolved this back home. You know I would never do anything to jeopardize the completion of your program, and far be it from me to make a mess of something so important to you.” Ezra’s placating tone does little to soothe Cee’s ruffled feathers, but regardless he turns to you to apologize. “Doctor, I have nothing but the utmost respect for you and your work here. I won’t meddle in your plans for Cee while we’re here with you, just consider me an extra set of hands-” Ezra cuts himself off, his mouth snapping shut abruptly.

Cee’s sudden, loud bubble of laughter makes a smile ripple its way across his lips, until Ezra is cracking up too and they laugh themselves breathless until Cee’s addition of “Well, just the one, really” has you joining in the mirth. Once the three of you have calmed and a warm silence between you has fallen again, you feel it’s an appropriate time to bring up your earlier thought.

“Well, now that it’s been acknowledged, I would love to hear the story of how you came to be permanently left-handed, Ezra,” you say, hoping you aren’t overstepping the bounds of propriety by asking so early in your acquaintance but still burning with curiosity to hear the tale. Ezra and Cee exchange a loaded look across the table, and you feel as though there’s much more to their partnership than you originally gleaned, and Cee is actually the one to address your question.

“Well doctor, I know you’ve just met us and don’t know us from the first man, but I truly hope that you can…look past what I’m about to say. To be fair though, Ezra had just killed my father so I was just returning the favor. My aim was worse than his, though.”

Shocked isn’t the right word.

Maybe horrified is better?

*****

Thanks for reading! If you see any subjects that I should content tag, feel free to shoot me a message. if you want to be tagged, let me know! my askbox is open, or you can shoot me a DM @tentacruels

taglist:

@darkstarcomics @imtryingmybeskar

#twcoa #ezra prospect #ezra x you #ezra x reader #prospect 2018 #ezra prospect fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal #my writing

16 notes · View notes

fake-bleach · 1 year

Text

fallen star | darkish!ezra x reader

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

word count: 9k (crazy i know oops)

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

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

ao3 link | masterlist

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

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

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

What a load of shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Desperation is getting the best of you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To be fair, your body already is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he never does.

You never make it back home.

wanna be on a taglist? fill out the google form in my pinned post!

reblogs are appreciated <3

#ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect smut #ezra prospect fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #prospect fanfic #ezra x reader #ezra prospect #ezra prospect x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #dark ezra prospect #dark ezra prospect x reader #dark ezra prospect x you #dark fanfiction #my writing #fake-bleach

563 notes · View notes