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sixhours · 3 months

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i know you by heart - chapter 7

Series Chapter Index | Read on AO3 | Complete

Rating: Explicit, 18+, here be smut Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Prospect, Joel Miller x Ezra, Joel & Ellie, Ezra & Cee, Joel is bad at feelings and relationships, Ellie is a little shit (affectionate), mostly follows canon after season 1, SMUT, gay sex, bisexual!Joel, period-typical homophobia, alcoholism behavior, light angst, angst with a happy ending, romance, age gap (~10ish years), I've probably forgotten some so please let me know <3

Twelve patrollers including Joel leave the commune just before sunrise, the sky turning a bruised violet color as dark clouds gather. It’s a six-hour ride to the western edge of the patrol zone on a clear day, but the weather is uncooperative, and soon they’re being pelted with a cold October rain.

Seven miserable hours down the road, they arrive at the spot where the original group was attacked. There’s no clear trail, no footprints to follow; the rain has all but washed it away.

“Fan out!” Peterson calls over the rain. “Pair up, use the radios if you spot anything. If they’re still around, we’ll find ‘em.”

Joel and a younger man named Anders take a fork in the path going north, an old logging trail that leads to a camp that serves as an outpost on Jasper Ridge. It’s slow-going, the path is narrow and muddy and lined with dense forest. This area gets little attention on regular patrols, with few structures for scavenging and little chance to encounter infected, which makes it a good place to hide.

When they see a shape in the distance, what looks like a figure crumpled in the center of the path, they slow the horses to a stop, exchanging a look. Joel pulls out his revolver.

“Looks like we got somethin’ up here,” Anders murmurs into the radio. “Northern fork, just shy of the Jasper outpost. Might need backup.”

“Roger,” crackles the walkie. Joel recognizes Peterson’s voice. “On our way.”

They tie off the horses and approach on foot, trying to see through the pelting rain. It’s a blurry lump on the ground at this distance, no way to tell if they’re armed or infected or even human. When they’re fifty feet away, Anders calls out.

“Hey!”

When the figure shifts and rolls onto one side, Joel’s grip on his gun tightens. It’s a young woman, still alive. Her clothes are tattered and caked in mud, barely adequate against the cold. As they get closer he can make out bruises on her face, hear her pained groan.

“H-h-help m-me,” she croaks.

“You bit, ma’am?” Anders asks, keeping a safe distance. He keeps his rifle trained on her while Joel eyes the forest around them, looking for others, but it’s too dim. Rain lashes at the trees, whipping them this way and that, and the overgrowth is too dark and thick to see through.

“N-no. No, I just…I hurt my ankle–”

“You with anyone?”

“I b-b-broke off from a g-group–”

“What group?” Joel asks.

“I don’t know–I was–they were going to k-k-kill me. Please, I’m s-so c-c-cold.”

The hair on the back of Joel’s neck is prickling with a familiar unease. Nothing about this feels right. In another life, he’d have already put a bullet in the woman’s head and turned back, but a year in Jackson has softened him.

“Ma’am–“

Anders has almost closed the distance between them when a voice rings out from somewhere in the trees.

“Put down your weapons! Hands where I can see them!”

Shit.

Joel raises his revolver but between the rain and his bad ear, he can’t tell where the voice is coming from.

“Don’t do it, old man. You’re surrounded.”

He and Anders exchange a look.

“Nuh-uh,” says the voice. “You’ve got ten seconds to unload before I shoot. Do it!”

Sneering, Joel flicks open the revolver's barrel and shakes out the rounds into his palm.

“Toss' em over there. Now!”

He does, flinging the bullets into the tree line and letting the revolver drop to the ground.

“Happy?”

“Now the rifles.”

“The hell do you–“

“Do it!”

Slowly they unshoulder their rifles and unload them, slowly edging toward each other until they’re standing back-to-back.

“You from that settlement back east?” the voice calls, somewhere on Joel’s side, a shadow in the trees off the edge of the path.

“Who’s askin’?” Anders fires back.

“No one you know, I’m afraid.”

A man comes out of the trees, gun leveled at Joel.

Then a rustling from the brush on the left, barely heard over the growl of the wind. And another, and another, and another, until they’re surrounded by at least five more that Joel can see. The woman gets up off the ground and limps to the side of one of the men meekly, her purpose fulfilled.

Bait.

“You the ones who shot up our men?” Joel asks through gritted teeth. He eyes the faces around them searching for Tommy, but there’s no sign.

“Maybe they shot first.”

“Doubt that,” Joel says. “Heard you have one of ours.”

“Depends. Do you have the girl?”

“Think you got the wrong folks,” he tries, playing dumb. “We don’t know noth–”

The man tightens his hand on the gun. “Let’s not play games. You have her. We have him. Don’t make this difficult.”

“I don’t see our man.”

“And I don’t see the kid,” he says, making a show of looking around. “So it seems we’re at a stalemate.”

“Would seem that way,” Joel says.

“Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot,” Anders cuts in, and Joel almost wheels on him to tell him to be quiet, stops himself at the last second. No sudden moves.

“What’s your name? Where you folks comin’ from?”

Anders nudges his back and Joel glares over his shoulder, but the young man keeps talking.

“We got room back in town. Food. Supplies. If you’re willin’ to work for it. Maybe we don’t need to make this a trade.”

“Is that right?” the man sneers. “How generous.”

Anders seems intent on making friends and Joel is about ready to tackle him to the ground just to shut him up when the young man nudges him harder, more insistently. It dawns on Joel that he’s trying to buy time.

Gotta keep ‘em talking until backup gets here.

“Yeah,” Anders says with a smile in his voice. “We got a pretty good thing goin’ out here. The more the merrier, ain’t that what they say?”

“Think you can understand why we’d be hesitant to take you up on that.”

“You wanna come back with us, you can see for yourselves,” Anders says. “Ain’t that far, though you’d have to walk. We don’t have enough horses. How many ya have?”

No answer.

“I’m Andy, this here’s Joel,” he tries. “S’just us, just lookin’ for our man. Looks like you got a good sized crew here…”

“Not telling you

“The kid’s back there, safe and sound,” he continues. “And we could use some clever folks, people with skill. This don’t have to be a showdown.”

“He’s right,” Joel grits out, jaw aching with the effort. “Show us our man and we’ll take you to her. No hard feelin’s.”

“Hear that, guys? Open invitation.”

Scattered noises from the crowd, none of it discernable, but it doesn’t sound friendly.

Hurry the fuck up, Peterson.

“No one’s gotta get hurt. There’s medicine…clothes. Looks like she could use some patchin’ up,” Joel says, nodding to the woman shivering across from them. “Why don’t y’all put down the guns and we’ll talk it out.”

“Yeah, yeah, the town, I heard you. See, here’s the thing. I’d bet you have a lot of men waiting for us back there, and I bet they ain’t too happy with us.”

“Can you blame ‘em?” Joel snaps.

The man shrugs. “We’re not going anywhere. If you don’t have the girl, we don’t have any further business here.”

He cocks his gun to prove the point.

“Hold up. Think this through,” Joel says quickly. “She ain’t comin’ out here. You said it yourself, lotta men who’ll be mighty angry if you kill one of ours. Kill us and you’ll never see her.”

The man’s nostrils flare in anger and Joel knows he’s walking a fine line between biding their time and getting shot.

“You’re outnumbered…and you know it,” Joel guesses. “Or you wouldn’t be waitin’ out here in the middle of nowhere. Show us our man and we’ll get you to your girl. S’that simple.”

The man snarls. “Alright. You wanna see him?”

He looks over his shoulder and jerks his chin at one of the men in the trees. Joel’s eyes stay trained on the gun in his hand even as they bring Tommy out, dragged by two men and dumped unceremoniously at the man’s feet. He’s on his knees, barely upright, drenched and muddied with his hands and feet tied behind him. His shoulder looks twisted, jutting out at an odd angle, and his shirt is drenched in blood.

Joel’s jaw tightens as he tries not to stare at his brother’s battered, silent form.

“He ain’t movin’,” Joel says tightly.

C’mon, Peterson, where the hell are you?

The man toes Tommy with his boot, harder than necessary, and it takes all Joel’s effort not to launch himself at him and tear him apart with his bare hands. Tommy lets out a gruff groan of pain as he’s knocked forward, rolls to his side.

“See? Still breathing,” the man says, grinning wickedly.

“Think your girl should come back in the same shape?” Joel grits out.

“As long as she comes back,” he says flatly. “But folks like you? You don’t have it in–”

A gunshot rings out. One of the raiders at the edge of the woods drops with a pained cry, and the man’s eyes go wide.

Fuckin’ finally.

Relief is short-lived as confusion breaks out. Joel launches himself at their attacker and knocks him to the ground, smacking the pistol from his hand as more gunshots sound amidst shouts of surprise from all around.

There’s a scramble as Joel tries to keep the man pinned while reaching back for his rifle. He finally gets his feet under him, then faintly recognizes a hot slice of pain across his left calf as a bullet grazes his leg. Rifle found, he manages to swing the butt of the unloaded gun to connect soundly with the man’s head before he can get up.

“Stay the fuck down,” he growls, landing a kick to the man’s ribs that curls him up like a worm as Joel fumbles to reload the gun.

There’s the sharp crack of more fire in the trees and then an ominous quiet, followed by the sounds of more shouting, familiar voices as the Jackson patrollers close in. Somewhere off to his left, Peterson calls, “I counted nine!”

“Eight here,” someone else says. “Think we’ve got a runner.”

“I’ll get him.”

Anders at his back. “Joel! You got that one?”

“Yeah,” he says, not taking his eyes or his gun off the man on the ground. “Tommy, y’alright?”

Anders kneels and helps Tommy up.

“M’here,” he coughs.

When it’s over, there are six men and women tied and lying on their stomachs with three more dead.

The Jackson group has a handful of bullet wounds between them, and by some miracle, none of them are fatal. They send the worst of the injured home on horseback, Tommy among them, leaving enough patrollers to handle the raiders.

Some dim part of Joel recognizes that he should have gone back, too. He’s struggling to stay upright as the adrenaline wears off, the wound on his leg bleeding through a hastily applied bandage, soaking his jeans. But after seeing Tommy’s injuries, he wants to be here for every second of what comes next.

“That one, up,” Joel says, pointing at the raiding party’s spokesman, and Anders and Peterson yank the man to his knees with a grunt.

“Who’re you lookin’ for?”

The man scowls. Joel taps him with the barrel of his rifle.

“Speak up.”

“Fuck you,” he snarls.

Anders is quick with his rifle, smacking the man in the back of the head hard enough to send him sprawling, but Peterson holds him upright by one arm.

“Let’s try this again,” Joel says. “Who’re you lookin’ for?”

“My k-kid,” he spits. “She c-came out this way with a man.”

Joel grinds his teeth. “That right?”

“Blonde, blue eyes, she’s…she’d be s-s-seventeen…her name is Cecilia–”

Tears shine in his eyes but a hint of defiance lingers. Joel exchanges a knowing look with Peterson, a silent agreement. He sighs and shoulders his rifle, then pulls out his knife. No sense wasting ammunition.

“Don’t know her,” he says flatly. “Guess you fucked with the wrong people.”

“No! No-wait, please, you have to wait, just–she was taken, she was taken from me. All I want is my little girl back. The man who took her–”

Anger flares hot and red in Joel’s gut.

“She get the same treatment as her?” Joel jerks his chin toward the woman in the tattered clothes, now tied alongside the others on the ground.

“I don’t–”

Joel grips the man by the hair, yanking his head back, exposing his throat.

“Tell me,” he growls. “Tell me what happens to little girls with your kind. Tell me she ain’t better off with you dead.”

“N-no, she’s not–it’s not like that, man–tell him–Bonnie, tell–tell him–”

He looks side to side, frantic. The woman in question doesn’t speak, only gives a soft, plaintive sob. Of all the lives they’ll take today, hers will be the one that gives him pause, but Jackson’s policy on raiders is clear. They’ll be treated like rabid dogs, put to death, the bodies left behind as a warning for others.

“Please, just–we’ll come quietly. You said…you said there was food…we’re starving–”

Joel snorts. “Now you’re ready to play nice, huh?”

“Look, please, we’re just–”

“You got anyone else out here s’gonna give us trouble?”

“N-no, there’s–it’s just us, but–”

“Good.”

The blade is sharp, and Joel’s practiced hand slices through the man’s artery with ease. It’s a faster death than he deserves, but between the pelting rain and the dwindling daylight, they need to move on. The man gurgles and spits his protest, and when Peterson lets go, he slumps to the ground, his blood making a muddy red pool underneath him.

Joel wipes his blade on his jeans, limps over to the next prone figure.

“Let’s get the rest of ‘em.”

It’s dark when Joel finally makes it back to Jackson. There’s blood on his jacket, mud caked on his clothes, and his calf is on fire, the bandage long since soiled and soaked through. He’s drenched and shivering as he and the remaining patrol crew ride through the gates.

When the wall opens up ahead of them, there’s a crowd gathered and waiting, Maria at the front. The relief in her eyes is palpable.

“Where’s Tommy?” he asks, easing down from his horse.

“They’ve got him at the clinic. He’s pretty beaten up but he’s going to be fine. And you?” she says, glancing down at his bloodied leg.

“S’nothin’,” he winces, trying not to put weight on it. “You should be with Tommy.”

“He insisted I come check on you,” she says, arching an eyebrow. “Besides, I wanted to get the story from someone I trust.”

She lowers her voice, pulls him off to the side. “They said it was raiders? Not Fireflies?”

“Uh-huh. They were lookin’ for…someone else’s kid, I guess,” he says.

“Someone else’s kid?”

He bites at the inside of his cheek. “Cee…I think.”

“Ezra’s?”

Joel nods tightly. “We took care of it. They won’t bother us again.”

She considers this with dark eyes and a hint of suspicion before nodding, squeezing him lightly on the shoulder. “Alright. You and the others will debrief with the council in the morning. Rest up.”

“You, too.”

Someone has fetched the horses and the rest of the crowd starts to dissipate. Joel is prepared to hobble home until he sees them some distance from the gate. Ellie is standing with Ezra, tucked under his arm, both of them shivering. His first thought, ludicrous as it is, is that they shouldn’t be out in this rain.

But then Ellie spots him and sets off running, her eyes wide and wet, and her arms fix themselves around his waist, nearly knocking him over.

“Stupid asshole,” she mutters thickly into his chest.

“Hey, kiddo,” he sniffs, returning the hug, relishing the solid weight of her against him. “Nice to see you, too.”

Ezra watches from afar, his face solemn. Joel meets his eyes over the top of Ellie’s head and gives him one terse nod, telling him everything he needs to know.

It’s done.

He turns away just as Ellie pulls back and looks up at him sternly, then down at his leg. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothin’, just a graze. I’ll be–”

“Clinic,” she snaps. “Now.”

“I don’t–”

But she’s already tucked herself under his arm and is moving them in the direction of the clinic. She’s still small for her age, but stronger than she looks–months of patrol training have paid off, and she makes a sturdy crutch.

“You’re gonna freeze out here,” he mutters. “Where’s your damn jacket?”

“Shut up and walk, old man.”

He leans on Ellie all the way to the clinic. She refuses to let him go until he’s safely deposited onto a cot and struggling to take off his jeans. The blood and dirt have caked over where the bullet took a chunk out of his flesh, the fabric around it stiff and soaked.

Ellie folds her arms across her chest and paces the tiny room while they wait for a nurse. The staff are busy with more urgent cases after the day’s events, so he settles in.

“We can just go home,” Joel tries after half an hour has passed. “This ain’t nothin’ I haven’t–”

“Don’t even think about getting off that bed or I’ll shoot your other leg, too,” she fumes.

He puts his hands up in surrender. “Alright…fine.”

A clock on the wall ticks and Ellie resumes her pacing. Eventually she stops and turns to face him.

“You should’ve told me you were going.”

“Yeah, well…you weren’t exactly talkin’ to me,” he sighs.

“You could have been killed.”

“We take that risk every time we go outside the walls. You know that well as anyone,” he says gently. “‘Sides, they had Tommy. I had to. If it…if it were you…”

He shakes his head, can’t finish the thought.

After a minute, she huffs a frustrated sigh and plops down on the bed next to him, frowning.

“You’re still an asshole,” she mutters, but she’s leaning into him now, shoulder to shoulder, picking at her cuticles the way she does when she’s nervous.

“Yeah, reckon I am,” he says. “But I’m still here.”

The nurse takes that moment to interrupt, swooping in with a wound kit. Ellie’s fingers find his as the nurse uncovers the bloody gash and begins dabbing at it with clean gauze.

“I’m alright,” he reassures her, grimacing as the nurse works around the wound, the antibiotic wash stinging something fierce. “Just a scratch.”

She fixes him with a glare that says she doesn’t believe a word, so he shuts up and lets her squeeze his hand. Before long, he’s bandaged and cleaned up and cleared to go home with a course of antibiotics.

“Take care of your dad, hon,” the nurse smiles on the way out.

“I will.”

They’re leaving the room before Joel realizes she hadn’t bothered to correct her.

On the way out, Ellie stops them halfway down the hall. “Wait…can we check on Tommy?”

“‘Course,” Joel says.

He points them in the direction of the bigger rooms used for in-patient care, peeking into each of them until they find his brother at the end. He’s dressed in a hospital gown, sitting up in bed. Cleaned of blood and dirt, his face looks slightly less gruesome. His left eye is a purple swollen mass and there are sutures over the worst of the gashes on his neck and face. His shoulder is no longer jutting out at a weird angle, fixed in place by a sling. Based on the way he’s holding himself, Joel suspects he has some broken ribs.

But he’s alive.

Joel nods in greeting, exchanges a glance with Maria, sitting in the chair at the side of his bed.

“Hey, brother,” Tommy murmurs. “Y’all goin’ home?”

“Yeah. Just wanted to check on ya.”

Ellie goes to him and before either of them can say another word, she leans down and puts her arms around Tommy’s neck in a careful hug. He pats her on the back, eyes widening in surprise, whispers something to his niece that Joel can’t hear. Ellie nods into the crook of his neck and doesn’t pull away for a long time. When she does, her face is pinched tight, like she’s trying not to cry.

He can practically hear Maria’s I told you so in her smirk.

Then Ellie is back at Joel’s side, almost crashing into him, re-anchoring her arms around his waist.

“Let’s go home, ‘kay?” he tries gently, palming the back of her head, giving her ponytail a gentle tug.

Ellie nods against his ribs, and it takes a solid minute for her to let him go enough so he can walk, nudging them in the direction of home. By the time they get inside, they’re both drenched all over again.

“Hot shower, now,” he mutters. “Ezra shouldn’t have had you out in the rain, god knows how long, it’s fuckin’ freezin’ out–”

“I made him,” she cuts in. “When they brought back the others and you weren’t there, I thought…I thought–”

Her chin trembles and her eyes fill with tears. In the quiet of their little house, all her previous fury is nowhere to be found.

“I know,” he softens. “I know, baby, it’s alright.”

“I didn’t even say goodbye,” she whispers, voice wavering. “I was so…so fucking mad at you, dude. You shouldn’t–shouldn’t have–”

“I know,” he soothes, cupping her face in his hands. “Hey. I’m not goin’ anywhere, baby girl.”

“I’m still fucking m-m-mad at you,” she hiccups.

“I know,” he says. “An’ we have a lot to talk about. But…not tonight, okay?”

She bites her lip, swiping at her eyes.

“Tomorrow. Let’s get some sleep and I’ll…I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. I’ll tell you everything.”

She nods, then ducks between his arms, butting her head into the center of his chest and squeezing him so tight it hurts. It’s a good hurt, though; like re-breaking a bone so it can heal.

“Shower,” he repeats thickly, but his arms refuse to move.

“Mmph. Have to let me go.”

“You first,” he chuckles, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

“You first,” she retorts, scrubbing her nose on his soaked t-shirt.

They practically sway with fatigue, dripping rain water and mud onto the kitchen floor, still shivering in wet clothes. But she doesn’t let go, so neither does he.

The shower, when he finally steps under the spray, feels amazing. Joel turns the water up to scalding to try to take the chill out of his bones, can almost hear the ancient hot water tank protesting. He’ll have to replace the dressing on his wound but it’s worth it.

Every muscle in his body aches. He’s embarrassed at how stunted his movements are, how difficult it is just to pull on his sweatpants. If Ellie catches him hobbling around like an old man she’ll never let him live it down, but the thought of her teasing only serves to put a smile on his face.

She’s home.

By the time he’s dried off and rebandaged his leg and dressed, she’s curled up in his bed, damp hair soaking his pillows, wearing a pair of his sweats and one of his t-shirts. He doesn’t have the energy to grump at her for stealing his clothes.

“Scoot over, blanket hog,” he murmurs, poking her in the side until she complies, rolling herself up in his down comforter like a burrito in the process. She has the audacity to growl at him when he tries to take the blanket back.

He groans getting into bed, back popping like a firecracker, and Ellie mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like old man into the thick comforter.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, pulling the spare wool blanket from the foot of the bed and tugging it over himself.

Ellie’s big brown eyes poke out over the top of her blanket cocoon, staring at him from the other side of the bed. They haven’t done this in months, he realizes. He supposes he should be relieved; no nightmares, no need to keep him close in the darkest hours.

He didn’t expect to miss it.

“Thought you weren’t gonna come back. Someone said they had Tommy and you were gone and–”

“Hey,” he whispers, reaching out to gently pinch her chin between his thumb and finger. “Don’t gotta worry about that now.”

She sniffs and nods, burrowing further into the comforter and wiggle-worming her way over to him. There’s a lump in his throat as she tucks her head under his chin.

“What happened?” she whispers.

“Bad folks. Raiders.”

“Did you kill them?”

Joel remembers the look in the man’s eyes when he realized he was going to die. How easily his supposed daughter was used as a pawn for sympathy. The woman’s body lying in the path, used as bait. The clean cut of the knife, body after body after body.

“They’re not gonna hurt anyone again,” Joel sighs.

“Okay,” she says. Then, in a small voice slurred by exhaustion, “M’sorry I ran away.”

“I knew where you were.”

“I was a jerk.”

“Yeah, well…so was I. I’d say we’re even but…I have a lot more to answer for‘n you do,” he sighs, a lazy dread prickling at the back of his neck at the thought. He’s too tired to give it fuel, though, so he reaches back and turns off the bedside lamp. “Tomorrow, alright? Promise.”

“Pinky promise,” she yawns. There’s a rustling as she frees her arm from the blanket and holds up her hand.

“Pinky promise,” he murmurs, locking their fingers and ducking his head to kiss her crown.

There’s another pause while he wracks his overtired brain for the right words. Eventually he settles on the simplest truth.

“I love you, kid. You know that, right?” he asks into the darkness. “I know it ain’t always…easy. An’ I’m not good at sayin’ it, but…I do.”

It’s a long time before she speaks, long enough that Joel wonders if she’s fallen asleep. But then he catches the hint of a sniffle in his good ear.

“Yeah, asshole,” she sniffs. “I know.”

Then another pause, wherein he’s certain she’s fallen asleep. He’s almost there himself when he hears it, muffled by the blankets and his chest.

“I love you, too.”

He wakes the next morning to Ellie’s knee jammed into his ribs, her head still tucked under his chin, arm thrown across his chest. She’s half wormed her way out of the blanket in her sleep, they’re tangled in her legs and wrapped around her torso. Somehow he manages to extract himself without waking her.

He pads to the bathroom to check the dressing on his leg; no more bleeding, no signs of infection yet, but everything hurts. What he wouldn’t give for a bottle of aspirin. He considers another shower to loosen his aching joints and muscles but he doesn’t want to wake Ellie, so instead he hobbles downstairs, muffling a grunt of pain with every step, and heads to the kitchen to make coffee.

He’s just settled on the porch swing with his mug when the front door creaks open. The first frost has settled across the grass, beaded drops frozen and glittering after last night’s rain.

Ellie steps outside, scowling into the light, still wrapped in his comforter. Her hair sticks up in wild spikes, ponytail skewed to the side of her head, and a thin film of dried spit decorates the corner of her mouth.

“You’re up early,” he says.

“Not as early as you.”

He shifts over on the swing and Ellie plops down next to him. Then she scoots closer and leans into his shoulder with a wordless grunt, wrinkling her nose at the smell of his coffee. The warmth of her presence makes his heart ache with affection, and he drapes an arm over her shoulders, letting her tuck into his side. For a while he thinks she’s fallen asleep again, and that would be alright, but then she speaks, low and hesitant.

“Do we have to talk about it now?”

“I reckon sooner is better than later.”

“I…dunno how to start.”

“Well…what do you want to know?”

“I want to know about the hospital,” she murmurs, pulling away from him and looking down at her lap.

He takes a deep breath, lets it out in a shaky rush. “Yeah…thought you might.”

“I want to know what happened. For real.”

So he tells her. He tells her what Marlene told him; that the cordyceps was in her brain. That the operation would kill her. That he’d lied about the other immune people, lied about the search for a cure, lied about the raider attack.

The words feel slimy on his tongue, months of shame pouring out of him like black oil, the aftertaste bitter.

She listens with an unnatural stoicism, jaw clenched and working, tears pooling in her lower lashes.

“Did you kill them?” she asks, her voice rough.

He bites the inside of his cheek until it bleeds. He nods.

“And…Marlene?”

Another nod. His voice is raspy when he speaks.

“She would have come after you. I couldn’t let that happen.”

She’s too quiet, the silence too loud, so he continues.

“Losing you wasn’t an option, El. It wasn’t a choice. Couldn’t do that again. Couldn’t lose a…another daughter.”

Her head snaps up at that, her expression impossible to read.

“Talk to me, kiddo,” he whispers when the silence that settles around them feels too heavy to bear.

“I think…I think I hate you for that,” she says.

There it is; confirmation of his worst fears, spoken aloud. The words don’t sound so daunting in the open air. He breathes it in, surprised to find her judgment doesn’t hurt the way he imagined it would. Maybe he’s too tired, in too much pain for them to sink in…but she hasn’t screamed at him, either. Hasn’t stormed off. She’s still bundled up in his comforter, shoulder nudging his with every gentle rock of the swing.

“That’s…that’s fair,” he chokes out. “I…understand.”

“But I…I still fucking love you, too.”

That lump in his throat is back. He tries to clear it with a sip of coffee but it doesn’t work, so he just ducks his head in a nod.

“Ezra said…he said it could be both. That hate and love are two sides of the same coin…or whatever,” she rolls her eyes, sniffs.

“You talked to Ez, huh?”

“I didn’t want to,” she wrinkles her nose. “I figured he’d just defend you because…y’know.”

Joel lets out a watery chuckle at that. “That ain’t his way.”

“Yeah. He said I was right to be angry. Said I had to ‘feel my feelings’ or some shit. Write things down so they make sense in my head. He’s so fucking annoying sometimes.”

“He is,” he says drily. “But I reckon he knows more about this stuff than we do.”

“I guess,” she says, mouth pinched in a frown.

He looks away, listens to the gentle creak of the porch swing on its chain, a bird’s call as the first rays of light spill onto the lawn.

“Look, I don’t blame you for bein’ mad at me, Ellie,” he says, keeping his eyes fixed on a point in the distance. “I know…what I did…it’s a hard thing to forgive. I know I took a choice from you, at a time when you didn’t have a lot of choices…an’ I’m sorry for that. Maybe you can’t forgive me for it, and that’s…that’s alright.

“But no matter what…no matter how mad you are, or how much you hate me…I’ll be here. You’re my–you’re mine,” he whispers, ducking his head. “I’m never gonna stop lookin’ out for you. I’ll never stop carin’ about you. I feel like that’s what I was put on this earth to do. An’ I know you may not understand that right now…but it’s the truth.”

She looks at him with that same expression she’d had in Salt Lake City, when he was the guy who shot and missed, and she was the girl who healed what time could not.

“I want to forgive you,” she says softly, wiping her eyes on the blanket. “I want to try. I want us to be…better.”

“I want that too, kiddo,” he says softly. “More’n anything.”

“So…no more lies,” she says. “No more hiding things. No more secrets.”

“No more secrets,” he agrees.

They sit side by side, rocking, and Joel sips his coffee. He feels lighter than he has in months.

“So…while we’re being honest or whatever…I guess I have one more question,” Ellie says.

“Shoot, kiddo.”

“I get why you lied about the hospital…kinda. I don’t fucking like it,” she says, brow furrowing. “But I get why you did it.”

Joel nods.

“But I wouldn’t have cared about Ezra. I’m not…y’know, a homophobic dick. I mean, it’s gross, but that’s because it’s you.”

Joel huffs a soft laugh. “I know you wouldn’t, kid. An’ it ain’t like that. Not exactly.”

“So…why?”

“I guess…I didn’t have anyone when Sarah was alive. I was her dad, and for a long time, that’s all I knew how to be. Then I lost her…and I never thought I’d have a, uh…a life again.

“But now we’re here,” he says, looking down their street, the sun casting a warm glow over the mountains in the distance, drops of half-frozen water glittering in the grass, lights glowing in the houses around them. The serenity of an early autumn morning in a small town, their safe haven…their home.

“An’ I have you,” he smiles softly. “So I guess I thought it would be like it was…before. When it was just Sarah n’ Tommy n’ me, and I didn’t make a lot of room for anyone else. But now Tommy has a family of his own, so that changes things. And then…then I met…”

“You met Ezra,” Ellie prompts.

“Yeah,” he smiles a little. “Yeah, I met Ezra and he, uh, reminded me what it was like to–”

“Ugh, please don’t finish that sentence,” she shudders.

“To have more, s’what I was gonna say,” he mutters. “But I guess I…I didn’t think I deserved it. Done so much bad shit…then lyin’ to you…well. That kinda thing eats at you.

“So I told myself I was protectin’ you. Told myself I had to choose. An’ it wasn’t a fair fight…‘cause I’d choose you every time.”

“Dude, that’s so fucked up. You get that, right?”

“I know,” he winces.

“I don’t want to be the reason you don’t have…someone…if that’s what you want.”

“Yeah,” he tilts his head. “Guess I didn’t think about it like that, but…you’re right. S’not fair to, uh…to put that on you.”

He takes a deep breath and lets it out in a rough sigh.

“To be honest, I don’t know what I’m doin’, kid. I didn’t have that chance with Sarah. Never…never made it this far.”

She gapes at him. “And you think I know what I’m doing? Jeez, dude, I’ve never had a fucking family. And now I have, like, a shitload of people who care about where I am and how I’m doing and making me eat and go to school and it’s so fucking weird. And I feel like I’m fucking it up all the fucking time.”

She wouldn’t believe him if he told her she couldn’t fuck it up if she tried, so instead, he says, “Guess that makes two of us, huh?”

She sniffs. “Yeah.”

“Least we get to fuck it up together.”

She doesn’t answer, just leans into him again, letting the swing rock, and when he puts his arm around her shoulders again she burrows against his side.

“I missed you,” she mumbles, and he feels the warm breath of her words through his flannel. “Ezra’s cool, but…you give better hugs.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “Both arms.”

“Christ, Ellie,” he groans. “You can’t just say shit like that, kid. That’s…that’s a journal thought, not an out-loud thought.”

“What? Ezra thought it was funny!”

“You…said that to him?” he blanches.

“Yep,” she says, looking up at him. “Speaking of Ezra…are you two gonna, you know, figure out your shit?”

“Couldn’t tell you,” he winces, rubbing his chin. “Don’t know if I'll get a second chance there...”

“He misses you, y’know. Kept playing all this slow, sappy music. Was a real bummer.”

A warm, glowing ember of hope flickers in his chest. “That so?”

“Yep. You’re both so obvious it’s stupid. Cee and I had a running bet going–“

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’,” he mutters under his breath. Did the entire town of Jackson have a pool on his love life or just his nosy-ass family?

“–but then you two had to go and make it all sad.”

“Uh-huh. Sorry to be such a ‘bummer,’” he grumbles.

She rolls her eyes. “Just talk to him. If I have to listen to any more of that sad Linda Ronstadt shit, I’ll–”

“Alright, alright, cool it, kid,” he sighs. “I’ll try, okay?”

“Good,” she nods, apparently satisfied. “Can we be done with the mushy stuff now? It’s freezing out here and you owe me pancakes.”

“I do?”

“Yep. You want my forgiveness, you better plan on pancakes. Every Sunday morning for, oh…the rest of your life.”

“That all?” he murmurs, arching an eyebrow.

“No, but you gotta start somewhere,” she shrugs, standing and facing him, hugging the comforter around her. Her smile is as radiant as the morning sun, and he returns it with his whole heart.

“I think I can manage that.”

The debrief is held in an office off the former school gymnasium that serves as the town hall. All seven members of the council are seated around a large conference table, and one by one they call in each of the patrollers involved in yesterday’s encounter.

Maria assured Joel this was standard procedure as they walked to the town hall together that morning.

“No one is on trial, we just want to have a clear picture of what happened for the record.”

With seven expectant faces staring back at him, asking questions and scratching notes on legal pads, he’s not sure he fully believes that.

When he’s finally cleared to go, he makes his way out to the gymnasium, passes Peterson and Anders in the hallway with a nod…and bumps into Ezra.

“Hey…what’re you doin’ here?”

“It was requested that I attend. I presume my name came up in relation to the group that attacked.”

He holds up his hand before Joel can confirm. “I have nothing to hide. I was honest during my intake save for that one…pesky detail. And as a personal matter between myself and Cee, I don’t expect blowback on the issue from anyone except her. Speaking of…I take it you found my…former employer?”

“Yeah…think we did.”

“And am I to assume you…took care of it in the manner we discussed prior to that engagement?”

“Yeah.”

A sharp nod. “Then I don’t see a need for additional deliberation on the matter. What’s done, as they say, is done.”

Joel twists his mouth in a frown. “Does Cee know?”

The other man won’t meet his eyes now. “Not yet. I must admit, I fear revealing the truth will set back her progress–”

“Ez. She’s your kid. Not a fuckin’ case study.”

He nods tightly. “I am well aware.”

“Are you? ‘Cause I know you said you don’t feel that way, but…she’s still just a kid. She needs someone.”

“She deserves better,” he whispers.

“Maybe so. But you’re what she’s got,” he says. “Look, I know I’m the last one to be givin’ advice, but…secrets have a way of goin’ bad. Makin’ things worse. An’ Cee…she’s a smart kid. Smart kids figure things out.”

“You would know,” Ezra murmurs with a smirk, then sighs. “Trust that I’ll take your input under advisement. Despite what you may believe about us…I still value your opinion.”

Joel grimaces, looking around. He lowers his voice, moving them out into the gym and away from the others. “Yeah…’bout that. I, uh…think I owe you an apology. Wasn’t honest with myself…or you. I’m not…”

He huffs a frustrated sigh, rolls his eyes to the ceiling.

“Back before, when we first…I told you I didn’t know how…how to do this–”

“You say as much, but that does not ring true to my understanding.”

Joel arches an eyebrow. “You sayin’ the last few months have been good?”

He smirks. “They’ve been genuine. Real. Messy and…true.”

“Look, Ellie is…she’s my everythin’, Ez. She takes priority.”

“As she should. I’ve never asked for anything else.”

Joel shakes his head. “You deserve…someone who can be…more…”

“And what makes you think that someone can’t be you, hm?”

“Ez–”

Ezra steps closer, reaching out to trace the line of his jaw with his thumb, the touch so familiar, so wanted it almost hurts.

“What if I was willing to…to share your affections? Even if that meant playing second fiddle to your young prodigy. What if I was willing to accept that?”

Joel’s voice has gone to gravel, a raw edge. “You sayin’ what I think you’re sayin’?”

“I’m saying that I don’t think…what we share must be divided. I think you can have both…but only if you’re willing to lay claim to it.”

Joel’s Adam’s apple bobs at his throat as he draws closer. “I…I think I’d–”

The door to the gym slams open and Ellie bursts in. “There you are. The hell have you–oh.”

She stops short, the words echoing in the cavernous space.

“Need a minute here, El,” he says, eyes fixed on Ezra’s. “Meet you back at the house.”

“I can wait,” she says, all feigned innocence.

“The house, kid,” he says, finally breaking Ezra’s gaze to give her a pointed glare.

“Ugh, fine,” she says, but she flashes him a thumbs-up sign and a toothy grin.

When the door shuts, Joel lets out a soft huff of laughter. “Christ…I, uh…what was I sayin’?”

“You were about to confess your undying affection, I hope,” Ezra says wryly.

“Right,” he says, cheeks flaming. “Uh, I’d like to…try. If you’ll…if you, uh…if…if I…fuck.”

A wordless growl of longing rises from his throat as he closes the distance between them, pressing their lips together, saying with actions what he can’t with words. One hand cradles his jaw, Ezra’s scruff scratching a brand against his palm, the other cupping the back of his neck, keeping him close as their mouths slant together, warm and soft and sweet.

“I missed you,” Ezra breathes when they break apart.

“I–”

“Ezra? They’re ready for you.”

Someone–sounds like Anders–pokes their head out of the hallway, and it’s all Joel can do not to turn around and snap at yet another interruption.

“Seems I’m being summoned,” Ezra murmurs, eyes dark and glittering with want. “I’ll see you soon, songbird.”

“Soon,” Joel echoes, frozen in place as Ezra walks away. He brushes his hand across his lips to cover his grin, almost floating as he walks out onto the street. Squinting into the daylight, he’s unsurprised to find Ellie leaning against the side of the building.

“Thought I told you to wait at home,” he sighs.

“Bold of you to assume I’d listen,” she says easily, falling into step beside him, slowing her pace to match his slight limp. “You two gonna…y’know?”

He flicks a glance sideways, unable to contain the little smile that pulls at his lips. “We’ll see, kiddo.”

“So that’s a ‘yes,’” she grins. “Good, Cee owes me.”

“Yeah…think we’re gonna have to have a little talk about gamblin’,” he mutters, throwing an arm around her shoulder as they make their way home.

#the last of us fanfic #prospect fanfic #joel miller x ezra prospect #joel miller #ellie williams #ezra prospect

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grogusmum · 4 months

Note

Hello fellow scout,

I’m here on asknado business! I would love to know if you have a favourite (smaller) writer here that you follow who you’d love to shout about to your fellow scouts? Or perhaps a fic under 200 notes you think needs all the love!

Much love,

Al 🖤

Excellent ask Al! As a smaller writing blog myself (with a couple exceptions), I always appreciate the signal boost!! I, um, got a little carried away!

Good Morning Campers!!

My beloved J over @insomniamamma is a brilliant writer, and her fics deserve more readers! She is one of the best Ezra writers on tumblr, and he is her main Pedro Boy, but her forays to other characters are always a joy! Particularly Nico (House Comes With a Bird) who is an often overlooked P-boy!

Be warned her speciality is hurt comfort and angst, filled with sharp wit. Her fics can be a beautiful gut punch!!

Here is her MASTERLIST, if you haven't read J's work-

Some highlights:

In The Light They Both Look The Same (Joel Miller x f!sexworker!reader) **smut**

Ephmira (Nico x f!reader)

Vanilla (Frankie Morales x f!reader) **smut**

Hands (Din Djarin x gn!reader w/grogu)

Liminal (Ezra and Cee)

Prickle (Ezra x f!reader)

Remain Nameless (Ezra and Cee w/gn!reader)

Persistence (Ezra x f!reader with Cee)

#pedro scouts #asknado 2024 #ask games answered #insomniamamma is rock em sock em!!#fic recs #writer rec

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mothandpidgeon · 8 months

Note

Ezra Joel?!?!?? Tell me more!!!! Plz 😇

Thanks for asking about this one bby! I'm really enjoying this idea. It's Joel x f!reader x Ezra (such a fun pairing, those two are so different yet so alike). I think it'll be a short series.

Basically Joel, reader, and Ellie are travelling west when they come upon Ezra and Cee. Joel is, of course, repressing all of his feelings for reader but her interest in Ezra (being classic smooth talking Ezra) complicates everything. Also there's a sweet budding romance between Ellie and Cee. ("She has a gun." "No.")

So here's the opening I guess:

You wake up warmer than you ought to be. Another morning where you’ve found yourself wrapped in Joel’s arms. It’s happening more and more often.

You didn’t fall asleep like that. Some time in the night, you huddled closer together and now youre tucked under his chin.

You keep your eyes closed— inhaling the scent of him, savoring the prickle of his stubble— because you know what will happen when you open them. You’ll look at each other, still soft and dreamy. It won’t feel like you’re in some midwestern no man’s land, it’s too sweet and tender. In his gaze you’ll see that he wants to kiss you. The crinkle at the corner of his eye and that deep stare give it away every time. Maybe your lips will even brush. But if they do, he’ll pull away, you’ll lose that golden embrace and Joel will spend the rest of the morning pretending the camp stove is completely engrossing so he doesn’t have to look at you directly.

It must be exhausting to keep that wall up. You know it takes conscious effort because of those groggy moments when he forgets who he is, where he is and he slips. Almost.

You peek your eyes open and watch him waking up, his eyes fluttering, coming to focus on you. This might be the morning he gives in, lets go. You imagine what it would feel like every day. It’s the kind of kiss that makes you sigh. Not months of pent up passion, just coming home.

There’s a twitch in your lip, a momentary half smile, and that’s all it takes to spook him. Joel’s brow creases, he clears his throat, and he rolls onto his back.

You’ve been running headfirst into that fucking wall for ages now.

#do we like this?#wip game #ask game #ezra prospect #joel miller #ask the moth

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rise-my-angel · 2 years

Text

Binding Opposing Foes

Pairing: Ezra x Female Reader

Length: 15.1k

Warnings: enemies to lovers, magical fantasy au, only one bed, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v, threat of violence, angst with happy ending, hints of a breeding kink

Notes: Made for the lovley @supernaturalgirl20 for the Pedrostories secret santa 💜. The length got away from me as usual, I am so sorry. Hopefully it's something you end up enjoying!

Any hint of peace you awoke with this morning was quickly dashed the second you made it to the market. It was a quiet walk there, through the clearing of trees near your home there was a hint of fog remaining that sat on the forest floor. The air was cool and crisp that was mixed with dew that still dripped from the leaves. You got to enjoy the time it took to get to town only to have it dashed the second you approached your little nook.

The tiny open clearing shoved between two well constructed vendors with fine, rich wood stood out against then soft fabrics hanging down as makeshift walls and one spread onto the floor to cover the stone pathway you occupied. Whatever tables and chests you kept there though, were turned over, tossed around and the tall narrow shelf had been knocked over to forcefully part if it sat in jagged pieces.

The man next to your nook, just arriving had seen the state of your shop and the instant upset plastered all over your face and just chucked before ignoring you once again. You weren’t popular and you knew why, but the other vendors wouldn’t do this. There was only two options as to who would be responsible for it and one of them was quickly approaching, the streak of blonde against his dark hair stood out even from a distance.

If Ezra or his men were responsible for this, at this point you might just give up. Leave town and never come back.

Busying yourself, you now sat on your knees trying to match the broken wood to the remainder of the shelf hoping it wasn’t beyond your ability to fix. You already knew you’d have to repair it yourself, or somehow bargain desperately for a new one and end up dragging it across the market alone anyways.

“Now who would let a misfortune like this fall upon such a prestigious saleswoman?”

You hated when he did this. His polite yet ecliptic vocabulary suddenly turning needlessly formal and condescending as if to mock you for your lack thereof. Glancing up, Ezra stood with an arm resting against the side of the other vendor looking around at the mess. You didn’t need this right now, not from him. “Go away, Ezra.��

You didn’t need to look back up at him to know he grinned at you, the few steps he took inside already putting him rather close to where you knelt. You could see his feet, dirty yet formidable boots just at the bottom of dark trousers the only thing in your eye line.

“Now is that anyway to greet a helping hand?”

Jaw clenching, you refused to give him the satisfaction of having to look up at him from this position, as if he were too good to stand face to face. “What are you gonna do, rip down my rugs from their walls to finish the job? Haven’t you done enough?”

His chuckle that followed infuriated you. He still didn’t even try to meet your eye, instead choosing to pace around the rest of the space inspecting what he could. “Now birdie, you aren’t insinuating that I am responsible for such a mess? I’m insulted, I thought we knew each other better than that.”

Squeezing your eyes tight for just long enough to catch a deep breathe, you opened them only to see the beginnings of the usual early risers wandering into the street. “Why wouldn’t it be you? Either you did it out of spite because I wouldn’t give it to you, or you came looking and trashed everything trying to find it yourself.”

You think he might be directly behind you now, the prickling feeling against your spine that screamed at your vulnerability. “On the contrary, I asked politely if you would be willing to share your goods for a fair trade. Saying no was a valid choice on your part, I have no reason to punish you for it.”

“As if you care about getting permission.” You muttered under your breath but his chuckle would have been warm and comforting if he was anyone else. Ezra side stepped around the shelf and stood at an angle to watch both you and the street.

“I think you’re mistakening me for the only other gentleman petty enough to throw a tantrum such as this.” Ezra knew who did this as much as you did, but blaming him was easier then accepting that the real perpetrator would only escalate from here. “You should be grateful that he still doesn’t know where you live, birdie.”

The sounds of cheery voices got louder as more people trickled into the market, looking to take advantage of the best items and produce before it was picked off. Some of which, started to look your way. Judgmental laughter and whispers that pointed towards you made your eyes sting. You didn’t want to be mocked right now, all you wanted to do was go home, but even then you had to stay and fix your nook. No one else certainly would.

“I have things to do Ezra. We both know you’re not going to help me, so just go rally your men and stampede through the woods or whatever you do.” Alright, that may have been you acting petty this time. You knew what he did for a living in detail just like he did you. It was probably the only reason he was one of the few people who would talk to you in this town, if only to put down your failures for his success

Peeking a glance up, you could see his jaw shifting in thought. His eyes squinting as his head turned up into the rising sunlight, and turn on his heels to leave. Not before suddenly flipping up one of your smallest tables onto its feet, slamming his palm down on the top to show off how unsteady the wobble had become from being tossed over.

A grin once again plastered over his face, he shifted it right in front of you to an innocent wide eyed look. Pointing at the wobbling table as he took his hand off of it, “You should really buy a new one, that’s rather unsafe to have around like this, birdie.”

Ezra didn’t wait for your reply, he knew you wouldn’t. He simply walked out into the market, a light curious look gracing his features as he meandered to other vendors, happily chatting with the likes of who would never give you the time of day.

It didn’t take brains to know that anyone passing by stared at you and whispered to one another as you tried setting everything upright. He was right though. The cheap little tables you owned were in bad shape, the threat of something with any real weight may topple the legs over for good.

The shelf you didn’t know how to fix. Your home was filled with furniture crafted from stone that existed in the cozy hut when you came across it for the first time. You had to plea with the carpenter for days and products of value at least four times greater then the cost of his cheapest work. But you needed something, and that day you had spent the entire afternoon dragging the furniture across the length of the street.

You weren’t quite so sure he would even give you that this time, you were far less liked now than you were then. Most people considered trading with you as cursed, only the ones in specific need or an uncaring courage would even approach you for business.

Even then, they usually traded in spare food or run down fabrics hardly of use to them anymore. Almost never coin. The outsiders or ones passing through town the only ones who bought in coin, but just because they didn’t know of you.

Eventually, you neatly stacked the broken shelf into the back and pushed the tables up against each corner to keep them steady for the remaining day and night until you found a way to fix it.

It was humiliating to leave, your bag of items still strung across your shoulders as full as when you arrived. You were right, the carpenter wanted nothing to do with you. Not even gracing you the privilege of speaking to him inside, rather he elected to lean out the door that was just open enough of fit his body.

You tried elsewhere, offering any trade or coin you had to even buy simple tools to try and fix it yourself, but no one budged. The only people willing to accept anything were produce stands who were constantly flooded with people. It at least let you try and blend in with your quiet asks and gentle payment that you could buy what you could before they realized and told you to get lost.

You chose to do simple foraging for the rest of the day, wandering the patches of field not yet cut down and plowed over by the magistrate. You were always spoiled in lavender here, and it was going to be a sad day when they finally decided to lay it over as more land for his estate.

The sun had set on your journey back. The market empty save for those just passing through in the darkening sky. Chattering and joyous laughter echoed through the stone from the tavern, no doubt the destination of most. Keeping your head down, you only looked up to peek inside your nook to make sure the mess wasn’t back.

In fact it was the opposite. Your tables were gone from the corners and the pathetic pile of broken wood removed. Instead, all set up in the exact way you would lay things out was fresh wood. Walking in you immediately trailed your hand over the tables.

They weren’t just smooth and well carved, they were strong and unmoving. A quality wood was used to make these. And right near your lone stool, sat a shelf. The same woodwork and strength on the make of it, but the shelves now instead of sitting thin and sometimes too high for your reach, they were wider the insides more deep and barley went above your height.

You bit your lip in a contrast of joy and apprehension. This was more than you ever would have asked of these people and it was going to be so wonderful to be able to set everything out so nicely and without accidentally shaking things against the other.

On the other hand, you also didn’t know who did this. You were pretty sure it wasn’t Ezra. He in all likelihood wasn’t the one who threw your stuff around, so he also had no reason to replace it. The only other one who could have done this, would only then replacement as a trick.

If it was him, no doubt the next time you came into town, you’d be summoned to his home, and graced with his generous gift to you only to ask for something in return. But the things he would want you feared. He wasn’t a kind man or even just a good one. Just selfish and greedy with no regard as to how he got what he desired.

The magistrate was not to be trifled with, and not only had you on too many occasions made an enemy of him, but he also had no qualms about his glee from extracting revenge. Ezra wasn’t much different, but at least you were confident enough his revenge for you would be more akin to sabotage then physically harming you. Either way, you walked much quicker home then normal. Checking around you many times to see if you were followed.

By the time you arrived it was pitch black. If someone had been watching you, they wouldn’t be able to get in was the only assurance you had. Your palms were pushed up against the wooden door, only turning your head enough to look out at the darkness around you.

You never could see it yourself, but you felt it. Almost like a shock, a pulsating wave of energy surged through them was the only indication you had of what you were doing. To any onlookers, they would just see a strange golden glow flash over your eyes, and a ripple of the same gold quickly flash around the perimeter of your home like a fire. It flashed into existence in an instance, and circled around your hut and disappeared just as quick the further it went. Like a tail following the light.

You finally went inside, and the only evidence of life to be seen was the gentle orange flow of light peeping through the closed shutters. Your only solace within the small space, but enough to keep your heart and mind from spiralling too far.

While leaning over to peer into the fireplace where a large stirring pot hung above the coals, a memory popped into your head. Ezra had approached you one day outside your hut. You had been placing small piles of feed around the backdoor steps, enticing the curious squirrels to come closer to you.

Just as a particularly friendly one was slowly making it’s way close to you, something behind you had startled it away. It was only a second late that the distinct shuffling of feet in the grass had you whip around, wide eyed and almost immediately out of startled breath.

It was the first time you had seen him alone, no large brutish men at his side waiting for any preferably aggressive order. His bright brown eyes gleaned in the sunlight as he took in your small abode. “Hard to imagine such strange and powerful concoctions have been so beautifully crafted in such an unimpressive structure. You didn’t respond, just clenched your hands in the clothes at your side as he turned his head to look at you nonchalantly. “The inside must truly be a wonder.”

He didn’t make a move to go inside, but you shifted just slightly to have a better chance at beating him to the door if necessary. “What I do is none of your concern.”

Ezra smiled, a typical response to your irritation towards him. “Oh quite the contrary, what you do is of great interest to me. Especially when it is my territory you are encroaching on.” Before you even had a chance to speak, he begun pacing around the outside of your small back garden. “Don’t you give me that look, birdie, you know exactly where I am talking about.”

You did, but calling it his territory wasn’t fair. He had no right to claim what was apart of nature. “You can’t just kick me out because you got there first.”

Ezra’s head tilted to the side, a pretend doubt crossing his features before making his pace direct towards you. “You twist my intentions here, I come here not to conquer, but to bargain.” He stood over you, feeling more tall then he likely was.

He was a large man with a broadness to him that took up much of your view. The glint in his deep brown eyes always crafting an agenda he kept to himself. You had once overheard a conversation about certain...endeavours he engaged in, but they had walked away before you learned anything else. So the softness of his features that framed his face so pleasantly made you all the more angry.

“What could you possibly offer me that I’d want?”

Ezra smirked, leaning close enough to feel every exhale. “Protection.”

Looking back on it, you knew he had been purposely vague. You had yet to have any problems with someone other then Ezra and his men, but he knew better. He knew exactly what would start to happen should and when the magistrate learns of your existence but he didn’t even have the courtesy to warn you.

Your face fell further and further into a glare. “I don’t need protection, and I don’t need pity. You take what you need from these creatures by force, I don’t. I have no reason to be fearful from anything except men like you trying to trick me.”

His face didn’t change, at least from a distance. Up close though, his eyes narrowed just the slightest, a darkness brewing in the corners of them that made you uneasy. You couldn’t show it though. “It’s not your talent I’m doubting birdie, it’s your naivety that has me extending an offer.”

The conversation didn’t last much after that. He knew right away that you felt insulted and took more than a few steps back from you, arms out in surrender. “I mean no offence, simply just looking out for a fellow collector such as myself.”

Your head was beginning to hurt, “You don’t collect anything but to willingly hand it over to men somehow worse than you. I don’t create anything harmful with what I have and I don’t need to shed any blood to get it.”

Ezra opened his mouth but you had enough. “Go away. I have things to do, and I don’t want you lurking around for any of it.”

The darker look faded to a discernible one. It was softer and much more downtrodden, but you struggled to put any distinguishable feeling to it. He raised his hands high in almost a wave as he back away. Reaching the end of what you circled out as your land, Ezra looked towards the piles of left over seeds, then to you as you stood perched on the bottom step. “Best be careful with feeding these ones, get them too familiar and they’ll dig into your garden crops like vultures.”

Ezra had been a continuous adversary every since. Always holding his upper hand over you with confidence and leaving helpful hints or tips only to rub in how much better he has fared in the same work you do.

Only now in present times, you had something over him even as small as it was. A little something that made you keep your shutters closed to the world, and create a barrier from any greedy hands from finding out.

The next time either of you ran into each other, the sun was looming low in the sky and you had at least some modicum of success in what you sold. Mostly trades today but enough coin to procure some winter seeds to add to your storage. Surprisingly, you had very little trouble.

The new woodwork was exactly as it was put, you were able to give people their specific requests. Shockingly, most people who wanted to avoid you suddenly were kind and forgiving when they came to you to help with a specific ailment. They didn’t know why your small vials did more to help than anything the town doctor could treat, but when they needed medicine they always came sneaking over to you.

You always did it, no matter who asked you of it and yet it never changed how far they would go to stay away from you afterwards.

It was right as your hut came into view that you saw him. His broad stature leaning up against the stone wall, a troubled look on his face. You paused in your step, staring at him with wide eyes and a heart beating faster and faster. He typically left you alone here, but the sudden feeling of being watched the night before reared its ugly head.

You stepped slowly, looking at him distrustingly despite him never moving. “You. You were watching me last night. Why? Did you hide here or just follow me home?”

Ezra shrugged to himself as he pushed up off the wall. “It’s been a time since I’ve found my way around here, the work you’ve put into this is quite extensive. You should be proud.” There was no threatening manner as he came to a stop in front of you, but his eyes watched you almost like he was caught between the now, and lost in a distant thought. “The protective charm even moreso.”

Panic flooded your veins and swam all the way into your heart. The townsfolk threw cruses of a witch at you, but all baseless accusations. You didn’t know anyone had seen it for themselves. You wanted to step back, maybe run from him but there was no use. He wasn’t done anyways.

“I have something I would like to talk to you about, but I suggest we do this in the privacy of your own home. It pertains to our...line of work.” Ezra's eyes darted around him with a suspicious glean.

“Why would I ever let you in where I live? You’ve never given me any reason I could possibly trust you-”

Ezra stepped into your personal space so quickly you had no time to back away before he was leaning close into your own face. “I’d keep your voice down, birdie. The trees have ears, afterall.”

So what you thought. You had no doubt Ezra likely had men hidden around him no one could see or even know about. “They know what you know anyways just say what you want then leave.” His eyebrows raised almost in warning to play along with something you didn’t know the rules to. “Just get this over with so I can go inside.”

His eyes once again seemed to squint, scrutinizing something behind you before leaning back into your space, a hand finding it’s way to rest on your arm. As you tried to flinch away, Ezra yanked it back with little force as he spoke low and commanding. “Either you let me inside to speak with you calmly, or I can walk away now and let the magistrates esteemed crew of untrained degenerates finally catch up and do it for me.”

You bit your lip, the thought of how they knew where you lived now darting in your brain. He only could have found it if Ezra was the one to tell him. But standing here in your face, he insisted once more.

“Just a short talk, birdie. One collector to another.” It was so fast you almost missed it. A blink of colour swirling through his eyes and gone again, shined bright in your face the glow of gold that you saw in your own doings.

This was something else entirely. He didn’t just know about you, he recognized it from himself. Looking away you tried to peek to the side to see anyone else around but you stood in the front of your hut alone. You didn’t look at him as you nodded, but he let go of your arm as he stood back to proper height.

You hesitated by the door. There was no going back after this, you couldn’t hide what was inside but you had a heavy feeling in your chest that he was here about that very secret. So you unlocked your door, and made just enough room for him to come inside.

Before closing, you peered out to the treeline. Nothing still in sight, but a shimmer of gold trailed itself along the ground anyways.

Locking behind you, you pressed your back against the door fingers tapping at the wood as he strode around. The ceiling not many inches higher then he was, and his broad frame took up much of the space. Peering at the kitchen which mostly consisted of shelves along the wall stocked full of an assortment of things, and the even smaller counters also full with bowls, pots, and anything and everything you needed to store your medicinal liquids.

The most notable part was the large hanging pot set firm in the fireplace with a few chairs surrounded by far too many books on the floor then you were okay with, but it was small. The half shut door to your washroom was just as uninteresting as anyone elses, and the closed door to where you bed lay went unseen by his investigation. You knew Ezra lived in a proper house, on real owned land with space for anything he desired. This must be pathetic in comparison.

“Cozy, very cozy. I am indeed impressed, once again I might add.” The stiff troubled look on his face had almost died completely now that you both were tucked inside your hut, but you still felt rigid wondering when the first noise from your closed room door would become too distinct for Ezra to not hear.

“What do you want, Ezra?” Your voice smaller and weaker then you wished it was.

His fingers trailed over the stone slabs carved into seats of some kind around a carved in table to the wall. “I had a visit from the lovely magistrate himself this morning. He seeked the answer to a question I knew I shouldn’t answer, but I had only just been rudely awoken. I wasn’t quite ready to be so propositioned to early.”

You had yet to move, but your eyes glanced to the door every few seconds as you let him speak. A thing he was always better at then you. “You see, he’s been using my own, creations,” Ezra almost gestured in a silly manner as if subtly hinting at the one thing you both already knew the other did. “He also, has requested your own kinds on more than one occasion, testing the use of both to see if his own, lets say..indiscretions could be better treated. At first there was no one vial better then the other. Our work was equally matched.”

His head looked up to your worry one, but not in mockery, it appeared to be a compliment. You could insult him all you wanted, but he did work just as hard as you to acquire and create your vials of ailment. You also knew where he was going with this story.

“But not long ago, something changed. He would praise my work up and down, each time showering me with gloat and greed for my offering, only to then show me my work he had been using. And find out it was actually yours.” He paced very slowly around the small space once more as he now looked anywhere but you, a deep furrow in his brow as he spoke again.

“Not a very observant man for someone claiming to be as prestigious as he. He was quite rattled by the revelation, and just today has demanded I find out how you’ve done it and either bring you to him myself, or take your work from you by force.”

Unknowingly you had slunk back against the door, trying to make yourself smaller as the stupidity fell over you. Everything should have been so obvious but it wasn’t until now.

His men had always called what they did hunting dragons, but it dawned on you that Ezra never did. He only called what he did collecting, much in the way you just said you collect from the creatures you work alongside of.

Your mixture of slow and steady kindness and finally a shared understanding of over worldly ability, did take what you needed as you left gifts in return. Tales of dragons painted them as fierce destructive creatures but most lived in saved solitude, wanting peace as much as you did.

Something about the almost ethereal bodies of water that sat within the caves held some properties not found in the nature around you otherwise. Their eyes casted gold matching displays of shimmer, and you now realized that it must have reflected in their eyes making you one in the same.

“He doesn’t know about you. That I never spoke of.” You were still pressed up against the door, but Ezra stood in the middle of the room, nonthreatening and doing no more then gently tracing his eyes and fingertips along innocent surfaces. Your muscles were stiff as you pushed off, pulling your bag over your shoulders.

He watched you hang it across the corner of a bookshelf, no real space around you to put it anywhere proper. You weren’t sure you were brave enough to come closer, in fact you weren’t sure you ever wanted to be near him again after this. He knew about you because he was one in the same and yet he continued to align against you for money.

Your voice was quiet, tight and rigid as you almost spoke through your teeth knowing where this tale was headed. “But he wants to know what I’ve done to make my vials so drastically different.” Your eyes met this time, and he appeared a tad guilty for reasons you couldn’t discern. “And you’re here to get that information by force. Right? That’s how your men do all of their work.”

Your body jolted upright as Ezra suddenly stalked towards you, slinking coyfully like a snake for attack. “My men, are merely brutes who once worked for the great magistrate himself. Gifted to me for protection after being gifted the firsts of my work. They work by force, I however, am far more interested in the journey then skipping right to the climax.”

His smirk had a darker tone lurking behind it, but not one of danger. You didn’t know why he was toying with you that way though. Just taking advantage of towering over you in such a small inescapable space. If he heard how hard you swallowed your nerves, he didn’t move or peep a word on it. “I offered you protection once, and by now I’d have assumed you understood it wasn’t from me. Not a quick as you claim you are.”

You wanted to be angry at his condescension, but your brain hazed over with a confusing fog that offered no solace. “Why would you care, you don’t even like me.”

A dark tone remained, but also glazing over with a much more familiar amused grin. “Now when have I ever claimed such a thing, birdie?” He gave a full laugh at your deepening glare. You knew he was toying with you, but why did he have to do it here in the sanctity of your own home?

Ezra had the audacity to reveal a huge secret about him and expose that he knows one of yours, and yet here he stood giving you the same treatment he always has as if nothing’s changed. Unfortunately for you, opportunity struck at the worst time possible.

Tiny chirps echoed from the closed bedroom door, before morphing into squeaky roar like growls as your other secret vied for attention. There was no escaping this one. Ezra of all people, knew exactly what that sound was. His head swivelled to face the door, a curious look spreading across him as he took a step to the side. He faced you but was making his way over.

“Now what on earth I ask, could possibly make such a notable sound hiding away in the only room I have yet to be shown?”

You fidgeted in place, crossing and uncrossing your arms before finally sighing deeply with your head hanging low. “You know exactly what that is.”

Looking back up, Ezra wasn’t looking at you in superiority, nor nefarious and smugly. No he was looking at you in an almost curious awe. He didn’t make any other steps towards your door but neither did you. He was sent here for one reason, and if not for you he’d likely take this as compensation. The magistrate wouldn’t do any good with it. He has no idea how to work with a dragons ability, he’d end up killing it.

Your voice was just a tiny whisper. “You’re just going to take it from me.”

If you didn’t know better you’d say Ezra looked sad, almost shameful for giving you such distrust. He only said two words, and you knew that no matter if you were equally matched, he was bigger and stronger and he would overpower any fight back.

“Show me.”

Chest constricting, you disguised your panic and pounding fear with a steeled, flat gaze. You made the small way to your bedroom door hand paused at the handle and other palm pressed against the wood wishing you could apologize to your companion in advance for what you were bringing in. You felt Ezra presence at your back, but sighed without turning your head to him.

“He’s gentle with me, but please don’t be forceful with him. He panics easily.” The man gave no response and you weren’t sure if it was out of focused curiosity, or he simply didn’t care about your request. Pushing the handle, you walked into the room as you opened the door to see what the fuss was all about.

He was small, still a baby. Not even a foot long in length or even wingspan, and skinny with little scales to show off. His high pitched roars only were able to come out as somewhat of a coo, which purred softly at the sight of you, only to cause him to hiss and fling his small body back against your bed as Ezra came in behind you.

Instantly you knelt down closer to his height on the bed, a shushing noise coming from you. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Come on, it’s alright.” At this point you tried not to help him up, he wanted to do it himself getting used to his wingspan proportioned oddly with his small stature.

Ezra behind you sounded in awe, a tone akin to a dry croak as he whispered with no trace of malice or intent. “How on earth did you secure such a creature?”

Your tiny friend tilted his head at you, making you smile. You sat down on your knees to allow him to hobble up close, communicating in a cooing that you had come to learn was suspicion. Ezra appeared in your side view, but only slightly bent at the knees as his hands rested on them. He seemed to understand the creature was wary of him and didn’t come over to quickly. “This is why you’ve come up with such powerful creations. You’re not just trying to add to their properties, you’re creating alongside them.”

Your friend hopped to look at Ezra with another head tilt. Seemingly taking his respect and curiosity as no hostile intentions. Slowly Ezra bent down more to crouch beside you as you spoke. “Not really them, just this one. I didn’t even realize I had him until I came home one day from the caves. He must have snuck into my bag and hide until he knew it was safe.”

Ezra furrowed his brows as he peered at you without quite taking his eyes off the infant dragon. He knew you weren’t talking about anything you did. The only other humans who dared to venture into a dragons cave was himself and the brainless brawn that had been assigned to assist him. “I was in another cavern then you. I don’t even think you knew I was there. Your men were yelling and screaming somewhere not too for away at what sounded like a very angry adult dragon. I also could hear you yelling at your men in even louder anger but it was too muffled through the cave walls to understand.”

The infant dragon stepped closer to the edge of the bed, his feet carried him closer to the safety of your familiarity, but his small slit gaze eyed Ezra and his hands that rested in front of his body still not breaching the bed’s edge. “I don’t know why he was alone, but I think the sounds scared him. Something must have made him trust me, because I hadn’t even realized I had company until we were here.”

For one, the man beside you was rather silent. His usual ability to find endless things to speak on suddenly quelled by the strange series of events unfolded in such a short amount of time. So you took over his role, filling the void with the only thing you could.

Hoping desperately that if you softened the blow to him, just maybe he could convince the magistrate to at least to try and not harm him. “There's so much more they can do, Ezra. It’s like their waters is just one aspect of their ability. Just drops of blood or a tear, even the flame is something else all together. Like the ones we see is just defensive, but I’ve seen him gently blow out a blue almost green colour. It’s like they have all of this just inside of them, but-”

Ezra interrupted with an affection you’ve never heard from him. “But it’s like they need someone with out abilities to create something out of it.”

Your tiny friend finally took tiny hops over to him, his gaze falling from what he likely thought was a flaring dangerous slit in his eyes back over to the brightness inside them. Ezra still didn’t reach out to touch him, and it didn’t go unnoticed how respectful he was being.

A side you’ve never seen before, or not at least to this extent. He was competitive with you to an infuriating degree, but you had to give him credit that never once has he tried to sabotage your own work. You were starting to think it should count for something.

The silence was palpable but not uncomfortable. He and the dragon looked at one another, almost communicating in the same ways you did with the small creature. It left an odd feeling in your chest. How close you both were in such a vulnerable moment that almost no person gave you the time of day to experience.

A fondness crept up in your throat that you didn’t appreciate, he was only being kind to manipulate you into giving you or your companion up without a fuss or fight. You needed to remember that as you watched Ezra smile so genuinely at the dragons little huff. His wings flapping and a hop in place you knew what he was asking for. “I assume your new partner wishes to find a home near your fireplace.”

You turned to look at his side profile only to startle at how close he was, looking directly at you. “Judging by how cool it is in this room, especially now that the sun’s left us.” Not thinking twice, a motherly instinct took over as you stood up instantly and put a hand hovering over the creatures back, prompting him to the edge of the bed.

“Come on, let’s try this again. You’ve gotten so much better at it since last week.” You bent over closer to his head to murmur much quieter. “It’s not going to hurt you remember? That’s why we put the rug down, you can do it.”

Wiggling in place, the small creature flapped it’s wing and jumped. Only to fair a few centimeters in distance before losing his steadiness and tumbled to the ground. Just like you reminded him, he wasn’t hurt by it. But embarrassed? Absolutely. Much like a cat, he scrambled onto the wooden floor and took off in a pattering sound to his favourite spot curled up just in front of the fire away from the scene of the so called humiliation.

Which just so happened to be in the middle of the largest free space. You’ve learned quite quickly to forge a path around tight gaps and strange angles to climb over.

Ezra came right beside you, his arm so close to touching yours that you felt the warmth radiating from his skin. His voice deep and almost a raspy quiet near your ear. “It’s miraculous what you’ve done. These aren’t easy creatures to gain so much trust in, but this one looks at you like a mother. And you love him like one back.”

Your head whipped around to him in shock. His voice was an admiration never given to you before from him, and his eyes swam with a genuine affection you couldn’t quite name. His dark eyes bore into yours unwavering. As if he saw right through whatever walls were in place and carved it’s way right to your insides, and it was too much for you to handle.

Looking away, you crossed your arms over your stomach and shuffled your feet. You weren’t sure if he even heard your tiny plea. “I’m going to miss him.”

But he did, and Ezra’s face fell into a conflicted frown that let a kind of heart wrench peek out from it. You hadn’t gotten but a few feet into the main room again when you both heard it at the same time. A bundle of voices in uniform tones.

For the briefest of moments, you had seized up. They had never found you before, and you hadn’t thought to take any precautions when leading Ezra inside. He on the other hand, wasted no time.

His large stature allowed him to get to the front window shutters in but a few steps, his body flat against the wall as he peeked out of the cracks. A distinct golden flash in his eyes. You don’t know why, but for just a moment, you wondered if yours looked just as beautiful or if it was just an extension of his own.

Shaking it off quickly you stepped over to the door next to the window he looked out of. Hands fumbling with the locks, not even having the foresight use the very abilities they likely were seeking you out for.

Whipping around your eyes blazed in fury, “You said you were here alone, you told me you came here alone that I wasn’t going to be taken by force,” Fire blazed in your eye but your trembling voice, the unsteady shake of your hands told a story of hurt and betrayal. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you, you just wanted one thing from me-”

Ezra invaded your personal space with a dangerous look of warning as he seemed to command you silent with a slip of your name past his lips. “This was not my doing. I told you he would rather steal you from your own home, but I implored him to let me go in place.”

You shook your head and tried to back away, but there was really nowhere to go. The hut was small and the door was pressed up against a flat wall. “You’re the only one who knows, about me, about here.” Ezra's hands reached out in the air to placate you but realization dawned in your eyes. “It was you, last night you were the one watching me, you destroyed my stuff? For what? To scare me into thinking it wasn’t you? To trick me into gaining your trust so you can lead them right to me?”

Your voice grew and grew into a shattering panic, but Ezra all put pushed you against the wall with his step forward. Dark eyes infuriated and a snarl willing itself onto his face. “I protected you. I kept his men away from you, don’t you dare stand there and accuse me of forcing you into anything.”

The sounds of voices grew louder and as you turned to open the door to attempt a protective charm, Ezra snatched your wrist in mid air and gripped it tight. “Ezra I-”

“Already have done it myself.” At your shifty gaze to the door again he pulled your wrist in closer. “You were panicked and froze, I took up the mantle myself.”

He still refused to let go of your arm when you tried to pull back again. His body was still and unmoving as much as his heavy gaze on you as if this didn’t at all phase him. “I didn’t freeze, let me go I’ve casted one several times-”

His face leaned into a mere inch or two from your face, he hand pulling your arm behind him enough that it forced your chest far closer into his own. The slightest sensation of this thumb running over your skin sent a shiver through you as did his low tone. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing, birdie. I am perfectly capable of taking care of you.”

A tiny hiss spat out, and the two of you looked to the fireplace to see the tiny creature lifting his head up just enough to watch Ezra with hostility. Hand still in mid hair, he let go of you and lowered his own slowly in the creature’s view. It seemed satisfactory as he once again curled his long neck up onto his body looking like a lumpy ball on the floor.

A beat of silence passed between you. There wasn’t an aggressive attack towards you nor was there more shouting or orders passed around. Ezra’s hands sat on his hips as he looked down slightly, giving you a modicum of space. “I wouldn’t worry much, those appear to be meager footmen not soldiers of any effectiveness. They’ll simply watch and pray for you to come out willingly until dawn hits and they need to return.”

Luckily your new friend seemed unaffected by any of this. Sleeping soundly in front of a cozy warm fire, uncaring about the current situation. Most likely he’d stay asleep until early morning when he knocks over things in your tiny kitchen seeking easy food.

“You uhm,” your fingertips tapped against your legs as you avoided eye contact. “You’ll need to stay. I might not be able to make a new one in time if you leave. Especially empty handed.”

Ezra nodded understandingly, he turned to the room and once again found himself milling about the small space, not even needing to watch his feet as he comfortably stepped over the green lump on the floor. “Good thing you have such generous accommodations for such an occasion.” You rolled your eyes as your body relaxed in a slump. “I’ve always felt as if the rough edge of a stone stool makes for a tremendous resting spot.”

Your arms crossed against your stomach once more as you walked into the other side of the room, not like it made much of a distance between you granted. “I- you’ve been...kind..today. Other days, I don’t really..it’s been a strange evening.”

“That it has.” His calm unchanging demeanour was either an inhuman blessing or a purposeful tool to stay one level above you. But you had no energy to fight him for it.

You ended up by the kitchen and tapped your fingers against the little counter space untouched by clutter. “I don’t have much to offer, but I have a little bit of stew and some day old bread I got from the market today...”

It was awkward, offering him such normal things in your evening routine, but he was kind enough not to make jabs at you for it. He did however, narrow his eyes slightly. “Now birdie I know for a fact that very seller makes his bread fresh into the evening.”

You shrugged your shoulders, but turned to busy yourself in gathering what was left of the stew made the day before. “Not like he is going to sell his finest or freshest to me of all people.” You muttered just under your breath, but not enough for Ezra’s fine hearing to catch it. “Him or anyone else.”

Your back was turned, missing the frown he gave as well as his quick appearance behind you. You almost jumped at the sight of him so close. His large hands quick to hold onto your arms gently to keep anything from spilling over.

Without removing his hands, they slid down the length of your upper arms to your hands as he kept eye contact. “I’ll assume you can trust to let me handle the act of pouring liquid into pot and scooping it back out.”

This time your eye roll was less annoyed and for closer to playful as you nodded, and let him take it from you. Only turning long enough to realize he would need a ladle, and seeing you already grabbed one for him.

“I’ll leave you to the bread.”

The next little while was actually quite peaceful. Ezra’s comfortable silence as he knelt by the fireplace watching for a boil. Not even the interruptions of silence as he mindlessly chattered at the sleeping dragon bothered you.

He steered clear from today's events. Choosing to go about the casualness of his day, and prompting you with genuine questions about yourself. Questions you found yourself easily answering without hesitation. It wasn’t long until it felt like a real conversation, and it didn’t even occur to you how strange it was compared to the usual hostility between you both. How easily warmth and laughter was shared when your greivences were set aside.

Ezra was quicker than you to get used to it, he was almost making you second guess the ways he interacted with you. Making you wonder how much of that hostility stemmed from just you. There was a guilt there, the wonder of how much of his hostility did you deserve for the way you’ve treated him first.

That was a feeling which grew louder the longer as the evening turned into night. You couldn’t let him sleep out here, there was no space for his broad stature and the only thing not with a stone base was your bed. It would be large enough, but the idea made your heart beat and your nerves to tighten.

You’re head was muddled about him tonight but the idea of treating him as uncaring as you might have not too long ago suddenly didn’t sit right with you. Ezra had been milling about your space, commenting on your storage and ingredients, how well you’ve utilized such a small space for how much you do.

He was mostly stalling as it grew closer for you both to go to bed, he didn’t want to make you feel awkward by going to sleep as you watched him find whatever space he could make for himself. Choosing to stay awake and preoccupied to spare you that, only you may not have given him that chance.

You whispered his name, once, twice, until you knew he couldn’t hear you from your nervous spot at your door. You feared chickening out, so your mind blurted it out for you. “You should sleep in here.”

He looked at you, a raise of his eyebrows at you hands wringing together in front of your open door, body standing to the side enough that would allow him room. “I understand perfectly, birdie. This is your sanctuary not mine, I have no need for-”

“No, like...in here, with a bed..” His intense eyes with that unblinking stoicism had you nibbling on your bottom lip trying to sound more confident then you felt. “It’s...I told you that you’ve been kind to me today, even when I don’t really deserve it.”

You weren’t looking at him, so you missed Ezra chomping at the bit to argue with you on that point, but you powered through those nerves anyways. “You shouldn’t sleep out here, that wouldn’t be fair. It’s the least I can do.”

Your muscles felt like they tingled at the tender smile on his lips, making his way over to the lantern by the kitchen and blowing it out. You stood frozen watching him, his broad frame taking up so much room in this small space and his watchful eyes barley moving from you. He stood in front of you, his chest so close to yours and his face searching for an answer you didn’t know the question too.

You seemed to square up as he leaned in, your eyes wide and unknowing to you, but flashing over with a desire he knew all too well. He was so close his nose almost brushed against yours before he raised his chin just over your shoulder to blow out the lantern by your heads.

Now the only thing keeping the hut alight was the glow of the embers in the fireplace, and the much smaller flame in the one lantern in your bedroom. Ezra gestured for you to go ahead of him, casually pressing it against your lower back as he followed you inside.

You quickly moved away from the side of the bed he was near to stand by the window, opening the shutters slightly more. Glancing over at him you just tilted your head to the sky outside, “So it’s not completely dark.”

Ezra broke his gaze on you as he knelt down to take his boots off, as you merely slipped off the flat ones you wore in seconds. For a moment before he stood back up, your hands automatically went to untie the strings of your front before realizing you weren’t alone. Ezra had looked up to see a hesitation, hands fiddling with drawstrings that would reveal far more skin then he’s ever seen on you.

Moving right up to the bed, Ezra just nodded for you to go around to your side. “I take no issue with keeping everything on if that’s what you are most comfortable with.” He peeled off his outer layer to show only his thinner long sleeved shirt underneath. The collar of the shirt undone and perhaps undone a far bit more then a commoner might deem acceptable. Without any other obstructing articles of clothing on his upper body, the skin exposed on much of the middle of his chest hummed with the orange glow of the room.

Nothing else was taken off as he climbed under the sheets, his body leaning to sit up and watch. “It’s your bed, birdie. I want you to be relaxed.”

“Relaxed?”

Ezra lowered his head in almost a lecturing appearance, “Comfortable, birdie. I want you to be comfortable. Just lay down for me.”

Why were your nerves so on fire? Why were you feeling this way towards Ezra of all people, no one in this town ever gave you enough mind to stir up this tightening warmth inside of you until here and now. But you climbed in otherwise. Slowly moving down to rest on your side as he watched you.

“Ezra?” With a shake of his head whatever thought he was lost in went back out of focus. “The light? Could you?”

Craning his head to the side, Ezra twisted just enough to blow it out. Setting the room dark, with the only light being streaks of a blueish tint from the moonlight.

It didn’t take long for both of your eyes to adjust, and it was hard to ignore that the bed wasn’t large enough to create a wide gap between you, and that you both lay on your sides facing one another not yet asleep.

The length of Ezra’s hand was the maximum amount of distance between your bodies and even in the moonlight you could see his brown eyes and their penetrating gaze on you. You tried to look away from his eyes, but instead of just closing them, you lowered them only to find yourself looking at the outline of chest that was exposed.

Neither of you said anything, but there was no fooling. You both knew the other was wide awake. Your body felt tense as if it screamed at you to move more, but you laid so perfectly still that the arm pressed under you ached in the pressure. He was close and his features were so much more predominant in this glow.

Not just the blonde against the dark hair, but his nose that framed his softness so handsomely that it made looking away from him a difficult task. His lips were hard to see, but you kept fighting to push back the images of how plump and soft they always were.

You didn’t notice that you had started to shiver, but it wasn’t from the cold. Your nerves shook from this strange warm need and the fight against how complicated it made you feel. “It’s cold, birdie. Come closer, I run a twinge warmer then the average.”

His whisper was raspy and it stunned you how badly you wanted to hear it again, so you didn’t move. Your free hand dug into the sheets in front of you as he spoke still quiet but more firm.

“Always so stubborn for me.”

Ezra moved a tad closer as he reached out to press against your back and lean you into him. His chest was so warm, and his arms were as large as the rest of him. You hadn’t thought about it when your fingertips reached up, a few of them hooking into the exposed collar of his shirt further down his chest. A spark buzzing into your body as you felt the brush of his chest against you.

His own hand trailed up and down your back, exploring a place he’s never been. “Better?”

It felt natural as you pressed a little closer to his front, a mutter of “You’re warm,” let a smile break out on his face that you couldn’t see.

“Good.” It was a few minutes of silence, but his hand tracing your back over your clothes and the occasional shift and reaffirming your fingers hold on the edge of his open collar told you both neither was asleep Just like he usually did, it was Ezra who broke the quiet. “I wish you’d have learned by now, birdie that I don’t hate you. Quite the contrary.”

Such an emotional side wanted so badly to cling onto that as the truth, and as it turned out, having your body pressed against his in your own bed let that emotion win out. So you nodded with a hum.

“You see how someone who does much of what you do, only I get treated without being insulted, shunned or talked down too. And I certainly haven’t made that feel much better for you by just letting myself play off of your easy annoyance with me. Though your face being rather cute when you’re grumpy may have played a role.”

As much as you could you turned your head up to see him, but his own was tilted upward watching the shine of streaked moonlight against the ceiling as his hold on your back grew more solid. His press of you against his front much more distinct. “Most of these townsfolk have been cruel, and I am truly sorry for my own actions in that. You deserve to be treated better then to be outcasted like a curse.”

You didn’t know why you did it, but you leaned back to catch his eye line better, your hand now pressing against his chest as it trailed back and forth from the broad strength of his torso to the softer stomach underneath and back. It wasn’t your mind that made the choice, it was an action guided by heart.

Something Ezra had done for much of the day. But you still asked. “How would I deserve to be treated?” It was innocent, a genuine question. This town has pushed you into the mud and laughed when you struggled to stand up.

Ezra’s jaw tensed, his body growing quite tense beneath your hand, and in response, you pressed more firmly against his chest to gently run down his torso hopefully more soothingly. It was a resolve of his will power that snapped.

The second you trailed your hand just a tad further down, brushing over his shirt enough to just barley graze the coarse hair leading to a much different kind of touch. Maybe you hadn’t realized it, it was dark and you were quite gentle up until then.

But the slightest pressure of your fingers close to his growing need erupted a boiling point within him. In a flash, Ezra grabbed your hand and flipped your body to fall flat on your back as he pressed up against your side, his upper body learning over yours to hold your hand down in his grasp. “It’s a dangerous game to toy with a man’s greed, birdie.”

Your chest heaved to match the quickness of your heart. Where his body touched yours felt like a flame but one without the agony. You could better see him this way, his eyes dark with an undoubtable lust and his lips slightly parted with grit as he shamelessly looked over you.

Did you mean it? Your sudden courageous touch closer to a part of him you thought he’d never care to give you? Was it what you always wanted but struggled to understand it? Your brain was so muddled as the authoritative press he had against your hand pinning it and you into place had part parts of you screaming.

Your thighs rubbed together trying to quell the screams but it only caused his dark eyes to look down to the shuffling. His grip slowly released your fingers until they barley touched. Just as they parted Ezra almost violently pulled the sheets away from you. So quick you were unable to hide the desire the parts of you Ezra dreamt about most spoke.

He pressed a palm onto the sheets closer to your waist as he raised his body enough to better lean over you. “If you’re toying with me, birdie, this is nothing short of cruel.”

It flew out of you in a breathe, no planned out thought behind it, only pure instinct. Your body writhed along the sheets just enough where you just barley felt your hips brush against his. “What do I deserve, Ezra?”

His jaw clenched more as he leaned down, his nose brushing against yours and tracing it’s length. “Want? Or need?” When you didn’t answer a second later, Ezra moved his hand to dance over your waist and hips with a clenched hand needing more. “You can’t just want this, birdie. I need you to need it. I need you to tell it to me. Tell me you need this. Need me.”

Just a single doubt of if this was a plot passed through you, but he played dirty if that was the case. He lowered his hips just enough for you to feel quite a hefty weighted pressure against your own hips. Not just heavy, but no doubt, something much more sizable then the very few you’d seen before.

“I need you.” He was greedy and it wasn’t quite enough, but he knew you’d know what to give him.

“Please?”

Christ almighty it wasn’t even a beg, it was such a sweet little ask. Almost innocent sounding if his cock wasn’t pushing into your hips begging for you to spread your legs. But it was a please that growled through him.

His hand perched on the sheets rose up and grasped your jaw, his breathe hitting your skin as his lips brushed against yours with his sole response. “Thank you.” The only thing you felt next, was his lips harshly against yours, an aggressive commanding kiss that left you breathless with his greed.

The very first thing you realized about Ezra as a lover, was he was unforgivingly passionate. His lips were soft but paired with a force that demanded you let him guide you. His kiss become more aggressive with each passing breathe until his tongue brushed against your lips.

Your senses felt overwhelmed, all you could feel, hear, even taste was Ezra. Your hands grasped meekly at his shoulders while his own large ones encompassed your hips as he swung his legs over to hold himself over top of you. He squeezed handfuls in such a greedy tight grip that you couldn’t move them much.

What he wanted. He didn’t grind his covered cock against you now, but he kept your hips pinned to his as he continued to keep the weight of it pressed into you. Let you feel him grow harder right against where he intended to devour.

A small whimper left your mouth as he brushed his tongue once again at your mouth and he took his opening, sliding his tongue inside and brushing it against yours before pulling back and starting all over again. He coaxed you each time to explore his mouth as much as he did yours, one of his hands releasing your hip to cup the back of your head.

Pushing you up more into his mouth, keeping you connected as he gave a muffled moan as you finally felt the confidence to taste him as well. It wasn’t graceful or even delicate, no this kiss was messy. Ezra not caring for technique or talent, but keeping the taste of you with him any way possible.

More then once you tried to pull back with a gasp of breathe only for him to follow your mouth once again. Your hands finally started to move, once again trailing the path you started only this time without the trepidation.

Fingertips dancing at the bottom of his shirt, Ezra gave you no doubt. Pulling away from your mouth, a string of spit just barley there before breaking as he sat upright not taking his shirt off, but grabbing your hands and sliding them under the fabric for you. He leaned back into you, pressing his cock harder into your centre. Grasping your neck and jaw he turned you to his pleasure as his mouth moved up your neck, leaving a cool path in it’s wake as he nibbled a patch and then soothed it with his tongue before moving on.

Your hips now free arched up into him with a gasp, the sting of his bite racked your body with an overwhelming need that made your hair stand on end. His unwavering focus left him barley separating from you as his beard and moustache rubbed into the sensitive skin he created.

A stutter trembled out of your mouth as you felt his cock much more clearly. Your hands holding onto his waist as you moved slightly against him, feeling him grow harder against you. It also though, left you in great wonder as to where he truly started and ended. The firm pressure against you felt so much larger than you could imagine and you found a shameless greed fly through you wondering how heavy it would feel on your tongue.

But the moment passed as your hands finally ran down to feel the coarse hair that set him off before. In a fleeting moment you suddenly pushed yourself up, forcing Ezra to sit upright once again his mouth draped open and swollen from his force. Your eyes this time held no insecurity.

You shoved his shirt up the length of his torso before leaning up as much as possible to pull it off before he took over and yanked it the rest of the way. You felt a rush of desire at how truly large he was. Broad shoulders and chest with arms that could hold you down with no real force. Down and down was a softer stomach that was where your palms kept running over, dipping to the coarse hair and soothing back upward as he just watched you.

Quickly he forced you back, his hands slamming down onto either side of your head as he rasped out, “It’s truly a crime that you’ve kept this breathtaking sight from the world.” His eyes slipping shut with a moan as your nails scratched ever so slightly below his waistline.

“Oh? You have any intentions of sharing this with others?” Ezra’s eyes snapped open, the moonlight hitting his back hid the incredulous look on his face in shadow, but you certainly felt it as he sat back up grasping your thighs.

“You misunderstand me birdie. I was being generous, what I meant was how much I can’t believe you hid any of this from me.” His hands grabbed the bottom of your skirts and bunched it up in his hands. “You’ve given yourself to me, and I am a selfish man.” He dragged it up and up exposing your skin to the cool air. “And I don’t share.”

Pulling it up as much as he could, you had to move quick to sit up in time as he pulled it off of you completely. The only thing keeping you from him now was a flimsy piece of fabric he had every intention of keeping for himself. Like he said, Ezra was a selfish man and if this is the only time he can ever share this with you, then he damn well is going to keep a small part of it with him.

You were quiet for a moment as he looked you over. His visibility much better then yours as the blue tint of the moon painted itself all over your skin. His hands once again on your thighs, he squeezed the flesh just as tightly as he did your hips.

His voice was tight, strained. “You have no idea the pain it’s putting me in to stay gentle with you. You have the audacity to just lay there, showing me damn near everything I’ve ever dreamt about you but I’m still wrong.”

Your face fell, spiralling down into a sea of what flaws he possibly hated so much to even point out. His grip on your thighs, his own face staring at your own chest tried to convince you otherwise. As did his own words. “Every night I imagine you just like this, you always slink up to meet me halfway, nails dragging over my chest with a knowing greedy look in your eye like an animal waiting to strike. But you now? You just lay there, looking at me with the most genuine eyes I’ve ever been graced with, and this...quiet uncertainty like I’m going to just take this all back.”

You could feel your lungs constrict, a shame once again setting in that maybe this has all been your fault. That this rivalry towards one another has been one sided the whole time and that you should consider yourself lucky to be blessed with his patience for you.

In theory, you followed what his dreams played out, but your palms smoothed up his chest not scratching nails, and there was no sultry look about you, but a genuine heart wrench. Your hands gently cupped the sides of his face, his facial hair scratching your palms beneath. “I, this isn’t your fault and I’m sorry.”

Ezra raised an eyebrow and tilted his head in question. One of your hands danced along his collarbone to avoid this face. “Maybe it’s all been in my head, or it’s changed between us, or I just treated you this way for no reason but..it’s different, tonight- I don’t know how to, it’s.” You stopped, took a deep breathe as he patiently waiting for your thoughts to collect. “I don’t know if I want to go back to what we were after you walk out of here. I don’t know if I can go back to it.”

Ezra didn’t respond, merely leaned down enough to gently kiss you, not pushing or pulling at you, just a chaste press of his lips against yours. “I had no intention of going back, birdie. I finally got you to open up to me, and like I said, I’m too selfish to let that slip away.”

Shuffling back on his knees, Ezra grabbed your underwear and tugged it down. His eyes watching you the entire time. Your heart was almost too loud in your head but you pushed that way regardless. You lifted your hips, and let him pull it off, baring you to the cool air entirely.

Sitting up on his knees, Ezra balled the fabric up in one fist, while pushing open your legs for him. You felt exposed, nervous at what he may think or see but you felt the pressuring shove to keep your legs spread wide the second you attempted to close them.

“I promised something you deserve. Will you let me show it to you?” You nodded but your heart grew louder, thumping against your chest as he didn’t crawl back up to you. No, instead holding your legs out just slightly wider then his own broad frame as he leaned into the core between your thighs.

You didn’t say anything, and Ezra had no intention on talking, not this typical way that is. His large hands spread your thighs as far as they could go to fit him, and your gasp of surprise caused a grin to form on Ezra’s face that could only be described as smug.

With no warning, Ezra pulled you forward enough to lean his head against your mound, the sound and sensation of him inhaling your scent sending shivers throughout. “Now that, is more divine than anything you or I could conjure out of thin air.”

Your strength left you, back falling against the sheets losing sight of him completely as you were only now bent at the hips, at the will of the man you least thought would ever choose this with you. The tip of his nose nudged against your clit a few times, your hips jerking as tiny sparks of pleasure came alive. With one more tease left in him, Ezra shoved his face right between your legs, dragging his tongue up from your entrance and back up to your clit as he ran his mouth over it as if a kiss.

Your moan turning into a whine as your legs were shoved just out of his way. Ezra’s eyes bore over your body as he took no slow enjoyment of making a show taking his pants off. There was no patience to drag his need out for you any longer.

He didn’t give you a view for long, just enough to see the how large he was all over, and just a hinting outline of his cock that even for a flash, hung thick and heavy between his legs. But he once again took what he needed. This time no second was spared as he devoured you.

His tongue tracing a path from your clit to your entrance and teasing you each time. Edging himself just enough inside you to garner a taste as it seized your legs up in tension, but the whines of your mouth had him smirking into your skin. “Ezra, please,”

You didn’t know what you needed, but he did. Oh did he know.

Ezra finally pushing his tongue inside of you, licking and tasting you as his hands once again grasped your thighs to push open. There was a twisting, burning fire flaming hotter and hotter with every stroke of his tongue and your moans weren’t the only ones.

The vibrations from his own sounds contrasted with the otherwise softness of his mouth and tongue tasting between your legs but it was an overwhelming fire that threatened to take you, and he wished it too. Your arms grasping at the sides of your head as if in an agony of desire while he rode the wave of your writhing against the sheets.

He seemed to mumble endlessly into you, nothing you could make out. There was a ringing in your ears that only heard the sounds of Ezra pushing you more and more towards the waters edge. A wet tasting as he refused to leave you to even speak his prayers of thanks for you to hear.

His eyes darted open to see your hands dancing to find a grounding, and one of his took ahold of the closest to him. As he moved his body upwards, his mouth took focus on your desperate clit and it echoed your need through the air. His hand holding yours forced it onto your breast and squeezed tightly. Moving and encouraging you to pull and tease in tandem with his tongue on you.

The other refusing to leave anything out, his larger hand took up so much more of you as he gave your breast such rougher touch then your own. But just as he nibbled oh so lightly at your sensitive clit, he grasped your nipple and tugged. A tight hold and rough tug that had you cry loudly.

He did it again, and again each time his greedy licks turning into a much more feral buzzing in his body. A snarl left his mouth as you cried his name out, the only beg you knew and he yanked your hips up to his mouth more. His cock leaking onto your sheets as it pressed up against the bed, but he could ignore it. He couldn’t ignore how he licked into you with such aggression.

A hand on your hip shifting only to roughly press against your clit once more and rub into you with a firm pressure refusing to give. He could sense your orgasm, your body tensing up as your cries turned to breathy gasps. Your insides like a coil ready to be let go, “Ezra, I-I’m-”

He barley tore his mouth away. His lips brushing against your soaked folds with every breath, he could only hiss out through gritted teeth. “I know, give it to me, I need to taste you.” You stuttered trying to give any response but he couldn’t stop himself. “This cunt, this-” shoving his face once again to aggressively lick into you before speaking again, “magnificent cunt, let me taste all of you. And you can have me.”

The vision of what outline you could see and the heavy bulge once pressed against you spun in your minds eye as you grappled with words. “I want, fuck I want it, I want you.”

He still kept his pace but spoke with such ferocity to make you answer him. “What do you want, birdie.” You didn’t answer him again right away and he slapped the outside of your thigh. Not so hard it hurt but enough to make you jump. “Tell me what you want, whatever it is I’ll give it to you but I need you to say it.”

Ezra hissed the words out and you forced yours through a gasp for air. “Your cock. I want your cock, inside me-please, god please, I need you to fill me.” You couldn’t even understand what you were saying, your orgasm teetering on the edge spilling out any desires you lusted for.

He stopped though, his grip so tight bruises already asked to form, as his breath spat into you, “You need me to fill you up? Is that what you need?”

“Yes, please Ezra please,”

He pulled you over the edge in an instant. His tongue inside of you making a mess as he dragged it out of you and up to your clit once more, soaking you so much you could hear it. His mouth licked at your clit in short tight circles until it hit you like a wave.

Nothing of matter cried out from your mouth, just pure pleasure as your back arched up and Ezra slinked back down to drink from you until he could feel your breathe settle from it’s frenzy.

A man not of patience he shoved himself up your body and kissed you, even more sloppy then your first. Your own taste on his tongue and essence smearing over your face where it still sat fresh on his as he licked into your mouth with the exact same treatment.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and your hands grasped one shoulder blade and another through his thick hair as your legs wrapped higher on his hips. As he moved his hand down you felt his tip press up against your soaking wet cunt. Rubbing the thickness up and down smearing your own wetness and mixing it with the precum already on his cock.

Biting at your lip you dug your nails into his skin as he kept prodding his cock inside of you not even an inch. “Tell me again, birdie.”

Before you could beg, he pulled from your mouth to look you in the eye as much as could be for so close. “Tell me you’ll have me now and tomorrow.” Your heart lurched in your chest, but you couldn’t remember the conflicts that plagued your relationship for so long.

You could only hear a sincerity and a rough need edging on his tone. “Tell me this can be us now, and I’ll fill you up with me. I’ll fill you with every inch of my cock, and then I’ll fill you with my cum. Spill it all inside of you, maybe keep my cock shoved in there to force you to keep every drop.”

His cock was almost properly pushing inside of you, but you knew he needed the words out loud. Gently, you raked your nails through his hair, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, his nose and back again all while he held his cock still. “This is us, this is all us.” You whispered against his mouth and a shaky breathe left him. “Now fill me Ezra, I want you, I need it all inside me.”

He gave you no time to adjust, your cunt was so soaked as well as his cock that his entire thick length shoved into you with no resistance. You moaned the others names out, Ezra falling into your neck with moans and your head tossed back grasping onto him.

Ezra didn’t pound into you as you thought he would. Instead he slowly dragged his cock along your walls, teasing every nerve inside of you as he slid in and out. Never leaving you, but making you relive how thick and deep he was every time.

The wetness was almost obscene as the thrusted in and out of you. Without removing his head from your neck, he blindly pulled your legs higher along his hips and it let his cock slide deeper. You clenched around him as the stroked along a razors edge that startled you with how good it felt. His mouth dragged itself up to your ear as he kept his pace slow yet deep.

“So good, you are unfair to me, birdie.” His voice rasped out, higher in pitch the more he thrusted into you. “You squeeze my cock so fucking good, fitting my cock as if we were created to lock together. You’re always so good, so talented, so fucking clever.”

His thrusts pounded a little harder, and when you cried out louder, Ezra pained himself to pull back to a gentle slide inside of you. “You take such good care of the things you love. Now, will you let me take care of you? Spill my seed deep inside of you? Once? Twice? Will you let me fill your cunt up with my cum until it just can’t fit anymore of me?”

Your bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat, his hair curling in dampness as you pulled his face to look at you eye to eye. His dark eyes blown wide open and his mouth unable to close from the mounting pleasure in both of you. He never slowed his pace, and you wrapped your legs around him more, closer to his own legs to try and bring him deeper.

“Please, fill me up Ezra.” You pulled him into a kiss breaking off only to mumble against hips lips before kissing him again. “I’m yours to have, please. Cum inside me, please just this one please.” The burning pleasure filled your limbs as you could only move against his thrusting hips to seek out your orgasm before it could be taken away, not that he would dare deprive himself of it.

You rambled, not knowing what you were saying but driving him mad through it all. “I’m yours, whenever, wherever. Fuck me until until you’ve had enough of me, until it takes, please cum inside me you can have whatever you want.”

Ezra grasped your face harshly, kissing and licking into your mouth as your orgasm swam into the shores. The fire between your legs making you almost cry in tears, leaning up into his warm touch, letting his kiss consume you as all you felt was his cock slick against your walls.

Your head was high in the clouds, surrounded by white noise of his creating. You were too far off to sense how insane you drove him. Neither of you could have expected his feral, snarling desire to keep you all for himself. But you told him to fuck you until it took, and it lost him.

There was no discernible drive behind it, not that he knew of at the moment, but it consumed with with the concept of fucking you every chance he gets, spilling his cum deep into you without any care to take precautions over it.

That thought pushed him over the edge. His hips pushing shallow thrusts deep inside you as he buried his head into your neck with a tight hold moving throughout your body. His cum spilling inside of you, warm and so deep you buried your own face into his hair as your clenching walls milked him for all he could give you.

You thought he may be mumbling something onto your skin, but whatever it was seemed to be another language. You were too far gone anyways, burrowing yourself into his arms as you both stayed there. Hips locked together, neither of you understanding why either of you held this back the way you did.

You didn’t talk about that though. Once you both came back down, Ezra pulled up, giving you one last kiss, but not of deep lust, just a simmered passion that left you chasing his lips after.

You also didn’t speak of the very reason he had to stay that night, likely still out there until the sun arises. Ezra didn’t care about them, he didn’t elaborate but he was very clear that he didn’t ever come to you with intention of handing you over. For once, you truly believed him, and he had such a genuine smile of happiness of true peace between you.

The rest of the night was quiet, intimate. Ezra watching with fond curiosity as you sat with the tiny dragon now awake with company. Watching you both work together, whispers at him and coos and purrs at you, a golden glow shining in the small space in front of the fire pit as you showed Ezra the charms you had been teaching him or working on together.

He tried some of them too, with varied success but never once did he become short or annoyed by your own success. He just watched you guide and praise the small creature, support him to work with you, prompting what you know he can do.

His smile only warmed up fonder as he quickest of images replaced the one in front of him. One where the creature in front of you was something much more human. One with dark curls and a growing patch of blonde standing out against a softer face that much more resembled you.

It wasn’t a thought that lingered, but he didn’t chase it away. This was new for the both of you. He treasured how much you understood each other once the walls dropped.

You had mentioned that once the sun came up you’d have to figure a plan out. “He’s small, and he’ll stay small for quite a while, but this just isn’t..”

“This isn’t a place to raise him.” Ezra brave enough to run a finger over his wings and not get growled or snapped at finally. “We’ll find somewhere. I’ve passed a fair few places before settling here, any one of them could give you both a real home.”

You watched the creature, you didn’t look at him but there was a watery weight in your eyes. “Just the two of us? You’re life is here, right?” Ezra smiled but you didn’t cut your brain off. “You’ve done enough, you’re life shouldn’t be uprooted for a baby dragon, not for the only person who you’ve competed against for years.”

You tried to steel your face impassively. But Ezra didn’t falter from such a casual relaxation. “Well now how could you two travelers even consider leaving your own companion behind? Frankly I’m offended.”

Your head shot up in panic, only to fall flat at the playful jest on his face. “You don’t have to though, really.”

Ezra furrowed his brow before hauling himself up more. His heart leaping as you so harmoniously reached for him as soon as he cupped your cheeks for a kiss. Pulling way he nudged his nose against yours, “You know better then anyone, I’m a stubborn man.” You laughed out loud, your forehead affectionately resting against his. “You aren’t getting rid of me anytime soon, birdie.”

A chirp croaked out below you both. Ezra poked at the little green attention seeker. “Yeah, yeah same to you, you winged nightmare.” The dragon shaking it’s head with a squeaky growl, hopping away from you both completely. Once again turning himself into a lumpy green pile on the ground ruminating by the fire.

You and Ezra both laughed, and it once again struck him at how parental it felt. The image of a baby, looking much like your best traits together, cradled in your arms and you in his own came back up.

He wouldn’t push that thought, wouldn’t read too heavily into it until a true life has settled with you, somewhere far from the noise and nonsense that drove a wedge between you both in the first place. He never hated you, or even disliked you but Ezra understood why his own attitude didn’t lend itself to healing.

It was hopeful now, such an intimate domesticity between him and you felt as if it was what was truly meant to be. What was behind the animosity previously getting in the way.

Maybe though, he would wait a while before telling you he was the one who had all of your market belongings replaced. He did it out of a burning need to give you something you needed, something good you deserved.

But he had a feeling you would still accuse him of ruining it in the first place as an excuse to get you new things. The magistrate clearly ordered it done to intimidate you instead of doing literally anything else more effective. But Ezra can’t lie to himself.

He absolutely had thought about doing exactly that just to try and get your attention.

#ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x female reader #ezra prospect x f!reader #pedrostoriesgift22 #pedrostories #ezra prospect x you #pedro pascal x reader #prospect imagine

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jenstar1992-2 · 4 years

Note

May I please request an older!Captain Rex x reader drabble where you're married and there with Rex, Gregor and Wolffe when Ezra and the rebels come to Rex for help?

Ask and you shall receive. 😊 Here it is, took me a minute to start writing again, but I finally got around to it. I know this is not really a drabble, I didn’t start out with the intention on making it long, especially not THIS long, but here we are. It's been a good minute since I last wrote anything so hopefully this is ok, and I hope you like it. Also, sorry it went a bit off the rails there, did not mean for it to get so angsty and junk, but my brain was going, and my fingers just kept typing, tried to end it happy though so… yeah.

Trust

Pairing: Older! Rex X Fem! reader

Warnings: Language, angst, mentions of order 66, reader being very protective of her boys, feels all around really, a bunch of married couple fluff (not really a warning, just wanted to mention it), it does get a little saucy at the end, nothing crazy, more talk than anything else

Word Count: 11,113

"We've got company", you hear Gregor say as he eyes the screen in front of him. You stand from your seat and make your way over to him.

"What is it", you ask, looking over his shoulder to inspect the image on the screen for yourself.

"Looks like an auxiliary starfighter of some kind."

"What's it doing out here?"

"I'm more concerned about who's inside it", Rex says from behind you. You turn to face your husband, giving him a curious look.

"Who the hell would be all the way out here? We're in the middle of nowhere", you say, holding your arms out and gesturing to the space around you before folding them at your chest.

"Exactly, who in their right mind would land in the middle of nowhere, and conveniently right in our path."

"You think it's something we should be worried about?"

"Don't know, just seems a bit suspicious is all", he says, lifting his hand to his chin, rubbing it with his index finger in thought.

There's a short moment of silence before you break it. "Well", you say with a little clap of your hands to break Rex out of his thoughts and bring him back to reality. "Let's check it out, who knows, maybe their friendly." You walk to the door and look back to the three men, giving them a smile and waiting for them to follow.

Wolffe chuckled and shook his head. "Ah (Y/N), always the optimist." His comment making you smile a little wider.

"Hey, it's gotten me this far", you say with a little shrug.

They all chuckle at that as they move to join you by the door. Wolffe and Gregor each grabbing their weapons on the way. You give them a confused look before Wolffe states, "Just in case."

You smile and nod, absentmindedly placing your hands to your hips, where they ghost over your lightsabers that you keep strapped there. You didn't know why you kept them on, it's not like you ever used them, never had to after coming to this deserted planet, where nothing much ever happens. But you kept them there, if for no other reason than it just felt wrong not having them on you. Your lightsabers were an extension of yourself after all, at least that's what your master taught you. As you reach to open the door, your hand gets caught in a gentle grip. You turn, raising your eyebrow at Rex who only offers you a soft smile. "I'll go first cyar'ika."

A small grin forms on your lips. "As always", you reply, moving aside to let him take the lead. As he passes you, he places a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Yep, always", he confirms before opening the door and walking out into the bright sunlight, you and the other two men right behind him.

You walk up to the railing and gaze down warily at the group that had just exited the starfighter. "It's a bunch of old geezers, well mostly old geezers", one of them says, a lasat from the looks of him.

"Well- armed old geezers", the Mandalorian girl adds.

"What do you want", Rex asks, sounding a bit gruffer than usual. You guessed he was trying to sound more intimidating. You would've laughed if you weren't also trying keep a serious front.

"We're looking for someone", responded the man in the group.

"Well, that's too bad, cause there's nobody out here", Rex says while leaning on the railing.

The boy speaks up next and asks, "Hey, uh, does the number 7567 mean anything to you?" You all straighten simultaneously.

"What did you just say", you asked, a small ball of anger beginning in your chest.

"Uh, I said 7567", the boy responded.

You looked over to Rex who still had his gaze set on the group below. "Well, that's my birth number", he tells them.

You see the man's eyes light up with recognition, like he's had a realization. "They're clones", he says angrily. He then pulls out a lightsaber and ignites it, stepping in front of the others.

"It's the jedi, they've come for revenge", you hear Wolffe say from your right before he fires a few shots at the man, who blocks them easily. You then see the man take a few more steps forward, looking like he wanted to jump up to your level and take you all out, but you weren't about to let him get that far. Acting on instinct, you grabbed your sabers from your hips and jumped down to the ground, landing just a few feet from him, your sabers igniting as soon as your feet hit the dirt. You stood in a defensive stance, ready to attack if he made even a single wrong move.

"I wouldn't if I were you", you told him in a tone that said you weren't messing around.

"She's a jedi", the boy said from behind the man, surprise clear in his voice.

"Stand down troopers, that's an order", you heard Rex bark from above. "(Y/N)", he then said in a softer tone. You knew what he wanted, but you were far from relenting, you needed to keep your men safe.

"Not gonna happen", you responded, still not taking your eyes off the man in front of you.

"Kanan stop, we have to trust them remember?" The boy seemed to be trying to reason with the man. You continued to glare at him, an action which he reciprocated. You stayed like that for a few more seconds until you heard your name being called again, even more gently than before.

"Please cyare, put them away", Rex calls down, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible. He knows all you need is a little push to send you over the edge at this point. You were always like this when anyone or anything threatened the safety of your men, you'd been that way for as long as he’d known you and he didn't see that ever changing. Not that he didn't respect the hell out of you for it. He and his brothers always appreciated the way you defended them with such vigor. However, Rex also knew that this wasn't the time for that. Something told him that they should be trying to make friends in this situation, instead of starting a fight.

"Not until he does", you finally reply.

The boy puts a hand on the man's shoulder, giving him a pleading look. Kanan sighs before deactivating his lightsaber and returning it to his hip. He then looks at you expectantly. You regard him for a few more moments before you too put your sabers away. Once you re-attached them, you turned and jumped back up to your original position, grabbing the railing and easily pulling yourself up and over it, before coming to stand beside your husband. You cross your arms over your chest, still feeling a bit defensive. Rex could feel your tension and responded by wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you closer to his side, feeling you relax just a bit.

The boy took this opportunity to make his introductions. "My name's Ezra. This is Kanan. That's Sabine and Zeb", he said while pointing out each of his comrades. "It's nice to meet you, 7567."

Rex felt you stiffen a bit in his grasp. You hated when anyone referred to him by his number and not his name. It had started as a pet peeve, but as time went on you just saw it as downright disrespectful and then it just straight up pissed you off. Rex knew this and it was just one of the millions of reasons he loved you so much. He could feel you prickling up with anger again. He moved the hand holding your waist to your hip and gave it a light squeeze in an attempt to calm the storm brewing inside you. This was your way of telling each other that everything was okay and not to be upset, light squeezes or soft touches, usually followed by a reassuring look. After this he again felt you start to calm. It was crazy the affect you two had on each other, it was damn near magic.

"Actually, my name is Rex. Captain, 501st Clone Battalion. Meet Commanders Gregor and Wolffe", Rex introduced the men standing behind you before looking to you, pulling you to him in a tighter one-armed embrace, "and this beautiful ball of fire is our General, (Y/F/N, Y/L/N). I know she seems a bit rough around the edges, but once you get to know her, you'll find she's pretty amazing." You looked to Rex after your introduction to notice him looking at you with an expression of pride, like he had just showed off his most prized possession, which in a way, you were. Rex never had much, but he always had you, and that's all he ever wanted. Your love and adoration were all he needed to feel as though he had a fulfilling life. Something he reminded you of on more than one occasion. You couldn't help but smile back at him, that same adoration clearly visible in your gaze.

You both were brought back to the present when you heard Ezra's voice addressing you. "We were sent by Ahsoka", he told you. Your ears perked up at the mention of your friend, turning to look at the boy.

"Ahsoka?"

Rex grinned. "Ahsoka Tano. We fought by her side from the battle of Christophsis to the siege of Mandalore", he said reminiscently.

"A friend of Ahsoka's is a friend of ours", you said, finally offering the group a genuine smile. Ezra smiled back, glad to see the fighting was over.

***

You and the boys had decided to help the crew of the Ghost to find a place to set up their rebel base. You could tell they were grateful for your help, most of them anyway. Kanan still seemed to distrust your little squad. When you thought about it you couldn't totally blame him. From what you could tell, Kanan was a young man, which meant that he would've still been a young padawan near the end of the clone wars, which also meant that he had to endure the horror that was Order 66 at a young age. You remember how terrible it had been for you, Ahsoka, and Rex. Not to mention the countless others who had to watch their allies, their friends turn on them, not knowing why. You had felt their pain, their fear, their feeling of betrayal, all before they were silenced. Then there were the clones who had their chips removed and had been traumatized at what they had almost done, what most of their brothers did do, even if it was out of their control. It took a heavy toll on all of you, and even though so much time had passed, it still hurt like hell. So yeah, you could understand his feelings, but if you were going to all work together successfully, then he had to lay some of that aside and learn to trust you, and the clones. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you figured it couldn't hurt to try and talk to him.

You were walking topside on your way to the Phantom for what you knew was going to be an uncomfortable talk, at best. As you approached the vessel you saw Rex standing by its entrance talking to whoever was inside. "We all have a choice", he said as you reached his position. He then turned to walk away, stopping after a few steps when he saw you standing there. He had a saddened expression that made your heart hurt, but before you could ask what was wrong, he walked past you, only stopping for a moment to bring your forehead to his, a gesture that meant he wasn't okay, but he would be. You nodded and let him leave, then turned to continue your little mission.

As you walked to the entrance of the phantom Ezra emerged, giving you a sad smile before passing you to join the rest of his crew up front. Once he was gone you focused your attention on Kanan who was facing away from you, fiddling with his lightsaber. "Hey", you called, trying to sound like you weren't still a little pissed at him.

"Hi", he said, rather unenthusiastically.

"Well, aren't you all warm a fuzzy", you said sarcastically.

"Can I help you with something, because if not then please leave me be, I have things to do." You rolled your eyes. This was going to be harder than you thought.

"Mm, yeah, that seems real important", you say, pointing to the saber in his hand that he had been detaching and re- attaching the same piece on for the past minute. He gave you a look over his shoulder, but you ignored it continuing. "Anyway, I was hoping we could talk."

"About what?"

You crossed your arms. "You know what." He just continued his mindless fiddling, so you sighed and went on. "Look, I understand your feelings towards the clones, I even understand your feelings towards me, but if we're going to work together here then you need to put all that aside, even if it's just for the time being. Do you think you could do that?" You looked at him with a sympathetic, yet hopeful look.

"Put it aside, put it aside?" His voice had raised to where he was just short of yelling at you. "How do you suggest I do that, huh? Maybe to you the war was a long time ago, but to me it feels like it could've been yesterday. The pain is still fresh to me, I can't forget it or set it aside as I please, it's always there and it always will be. I can't just sit here and act like I'm okay when everything here reminds of that awful day, the day I lost my master, the one time she needed me most and I couldn't save her. How can I put it aside when every time I turn around here I see the faces that murdered her?” That was it, that was what tore the last piece of patience from you.

"ENOUGH!" He froze, obviously not expecting the amount of anger that now radiated off you in waves. "Listen, you son of a bitch, I've tried to be patient, I've tried to be understanding, hell, I tried to be genuinely nice to you, but clearly you don't respond to nice, so this is how it's gonna go." You grabbed him by the front of his shirt and brought his face only inches from yours. "You are going to buck the kriff up and get over your bantha shit until this is over, and if you hurt or disrespect my men again, you won't be leaving this planet intact, do I make myself clear?" You made sure to emphasize those last five words.

He looked at you, still shocked, for a moment before narrowing his eyes and giving you a bitter, "Yes Ma'am."

You instantly released your grip, letting him go. "Good, as long as we're on the same page, you can go back to your 'oh so important' work." You made you way back to the door but stopped just as your one foot passed the threshold. You turned slightly before saying in a low voice, "You know, you’re not the only one that lost people that day." You paused as so many faces flashed through your mind, all the friends you lost, even ones before the end of the war, all the faces that plagued your thoughts so often. "Survivor’s guilt is a hell of a thing, believe me, I know... we all know", and that's all you left him with before you quickly made your exit, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay, you weren't about to show him that kind of weakness in you, not when you had to stay strong, not when you had your family to protect.

You made your way to the front with the others, seeing Ezra and Sabine leaning on the rail, talking casually. Sabine was the first to notice you approaching. "Oh, hey General (Y/L/N)", she said, smiling as she turned to fully face you. Her smile quickly faded when she took in your expression. "Are you okay", she asked, her voice laced with genuine concern.

You stopped in front of her, finally looking up to meet her gaze. "Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah I'm alright", you replied, giving her a reassuring smile, hoping it was believable. "Oh, and you don't need to call me that. It's (Y/N). Not need for formalities with me, no matter what the boys say." She nodded, turning back to lean on the rail as you moved to stand between the two teens, copying their actions. "So, what were you two talking about before I interrupted", you asked, hoping that a casual conversation with some young bloods would help get your mind off of that upsetting talk you had only moments ago.

"Nothing much, just that you guys seem to have a pretty nice setup here, living the quiet life and all", Ezra said, gesturing toward the modified tank you were all currently on.

You chuckled. "I don’t know if quiet is the word I'd use, if there's one thing these boys are not, it’s quiet, but I get your meaning", you said, smiling at the young teen.

"It makes me wonder though." You turned at Sabine's words to look at the girl. "Wonder what", you asked.

"Well, I can see how this life is desirable for the clones, I mean I'm sure the war took its toll on everyone, but it must've even more so on them. So, a nice quiet life of isolation seems like a nice reprieve if anything else", she said, pausing to look at you, seeming to contemplate her next words before continuing her thought. "But you’re a jedi."

"And", you questioned, cocking an eyebrow.

"Well, all the jedi I know can't seem to stay in one place for very long, not unless there's a point to it anyway. Plus, if anyone should want the downfall of the empire, it should be the jedi. You guys were peacekeepers after all, and with the empire in control there hasn't been any true piece to be found. I don't know, I guess I just thought you'd be fighting with the rebellion, instead of hanging out here slinging for joopa with retired clone troopers." She looked at you with a confused expression.

You sighed before responding, "I get your logic, and you're right, if anyone deserves a quiet life away from all the violence out in the galaxy, it's the clones. We all went through it and it was bad for all of us, but they really got screwed more than any of us in my opinion. We at least had some semblance of a choice in the matter, but the clones, they were forced into a war they had nothing to do with, and not even a light at the end of the tunnel to work toward. Most clones had no idea what would happen to them after the war, or what they would do. If you ask me, these boys deserve much more than this 'quiet' life." You leant over the railing again, looking to the ground below. "You're right about the rest too. We were peacekeepers, at least, we were supposed to be, and I do want the empire to fall, but...", you paused, not sure why you were divulging so many of the thoughts you'd kept to yourself for so long, even during the war, you hadn't fully voiced your opinion on these topics with anyone but Rex, and that was only in confidence, in those precious moments when it was just the two of you, the world outside a distant thought as you held each other and talked throughout the night. These and other hard topics would come up now and then, but you'd never have thought that you'd be here telling those same thoughts to two teens who you'd only just met earlier that day. You realized it was because, for reasons unknown to you, you trusted them, and you guessed that was enough. "When the war ended, and the empire took power, I was lost. We all were", you continued. "Ahsoka, Rex, and I, we were together when it happened, and if it hadn't been for that, well, I don't know where I'd be right now. Maybe I would've joined the rebellion, if I had somehow been able to survive on my own. But that's not how things played out. I was able to keep those closest to me and then I had a decision to make. Join another fight and risk the one thing that gives my life purpose or keep them safe and away from the danger." You stood straight, looking to Sabine. "We all have a choice, and I made mine. I chose family, I chose him."

"Rex", she said, confident in her understanding of your words. You gave her a short nod, then looked away, staring at the empty landscape before you.

It remained silent for a moment until Ezra spoke up, wanting to voice the question that had been on his mind. "Rex said that he never betrayed his jedi, is that true?"

You smiled, turning your attention to Ezra now. "Yes, it's true. It wasn't easy though, those damn chips really did their jobs well. I had never seen him fight so hard against anything the way he did with that thing. Imagine fighting your own body and mind simultaneously because that's what he did, for us. He didn't want to hurt us, and his hesitation gave us the chance we needed to escape. I had never been more relieved than I was to see that damn thing removed from his head. I owe Ahsoka a lot for that, it was her quick thinking that saved him in the end. Well, her... and Fives", you said, a sad expression taking over your features as you thought of your fallen friend, and the sacrifice he made trying to save you all.

"Who's Fives", you heard Ezra ask from beside you.

"A good man, one of the best, who deserved better", you said somberly.

The silence that settled over the three of you was thick with conflicting emotions and full of unasked questions that you were sure would stay that way, which you were grateful for.

You almost jumped at the sound of the door sliding open behind you, turning around to see Rex coming though it towards the three of you. "I've assembled a list of potential bases and clearance codes and a few protocols the imperials still use. Should be of some use", he tells Ezra, who promptly thanked him. Sabine then went inside to collect some data tapes. Rex came to stand beside you. "So, what'd I miss out here", he asked, looking between you and Ezra.

"Oh, nothing much, just telling the kids some old war stories", you said, trying to make it sound as if it had been as simple as that.

"Oh yeah? Hope they were some of the good ones", he said, grinning at you.

"Were there any good ones, because I don't remember the war being all that fun." You hadn't even noticed Kanan enter the vicinity. You instantly frowned and crossed your arms, giving him a look that told him not to test you. He heeded the warning and turned away from you all, looking outward and shaking his head in disapproval, but he stayed silent.

"Actually, (Y/N) was telling us about what you did for her and Ahsoka, about how you saved them", Ezra interjected.

Rex scoffed at that. "If memory serves, it was the other way around. Without her and Commander Tano, I don't think I'd be standing here today", he said, looking back to you, his gaze turning to one of pure adoration. You couldn't help but smile back at him.

Ezra smiled, a knowing look in his eye. "So, I guess you were telling the truth after all. You didn't betray your jedi."

You both turned your attention back on the boy. "Nope. Even married one of 'em", he responded, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his side. “Best decision I ever made too.”

You sent a sideways grin his way. “Yeah, only took you forever to ask”, you said, finally dropping your arms to mimic his hold and wrap one around his waist.

He laughed, “Sorry cyar'ika. I would’ve asked sooner but we were in the middle of a war.”

“I know, I know”, you said, lifting your free hand to let it caress his cheek lightly before coming to rest your curved finger under his chin. “I just like messing with you”. Rex continued to grace you with a soft smile. But soon your quiet moment was ruined by someone’s loud scoffing, causing you to drop your hand and glare at the offender. “You have something to say, Ponytail”, you asked, your hand now going to your hip, your other staying securely around your husband, acting as your lifeline to sanity. You knew you shouldn’t let this guy rile you up, but you couldn’t help it, he was just so infuriatingly stubborn and took every chance he could to be rude.

“Yeah actually, I do have something to say…”, he started to say, but Ezra tried to intervene.

“Kanan, maybe you shouldn’t. They’re doing us a favor here remember. So maybe we should be, oh I don’t know, nice”, he said, giving his master an almost pleading look.

Kanan scoffed once more, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nice, you want me to be nice? I don’t know Ezra, it’s kind of hard to be nice to someone who not only chooses clones over her own people, but then come to find she broke her code to have a relationship with one of them. Then to top it all off, she goes off to conspire with the traitors”, he said, raising his voice.

You let go of Rex to cross your arms as well, but feeling the rage start to build in you Rex kept his hold on you, knowing if he didn’t this might turn into an all-out fist fight, or worse. “My people huh? Well, I don’t know how things were for you in the order, but let’s just say that by the end of the war, my faith in the jedi was heavily skewed. I couldn’t trust the order anymore, not like I used to. The only people I could truly trust were my friends and my men, and most times they were one in the same. I know you have a chip on your shoulder when it comes to clones, and, as I said before, I get it. However, I can tell you something with absolute certainty, and that is that my husband is no traitor. Rex is a good man, and loyal as hell. For as long as I’ve known him, never once has my faith in him been shaken, not even on that day. He would’ve laid his life down to save Ahsoka and I, damn near did too, just like countless times before. So many of those men risked their lives for me and the other jedi over the course of the war, and I can never thank them enough for that. I knew my men, and they never would’ve turned on us unless they were forced to. It was out of their control, and I can never hold hatred in my heart for them because of it.” You lowered your arms to rest at your sides, deciding you didn’t want to start another fight, and sighed. “Look, I know I can’t tell you how to feel, and I know you’re angry and still grieving. I also know that, that pain will never truly go away.” You see his angry expression falter a bit at your words, his arms releasing a small amount of tension. “I’m sorry about your master, but don’t let her death shape your feelings towards everything that reminds you of it. Don’t let your feelings blind you from the truth.”

He looked you square on the eye then. “How do you know you aren’t letting your feelings blind you from the truth”, he asked bitterly.

You gave this some thought before answering. Meeting his eyes, you said, “Because, at the end of the day, I never let those feelings control my actions. I could love Rex and still do my duty and so could he.” You gestured to Rex, who was now watching you as you spoke. “We never let our relationship get in the way of our responsibilities.”

“She’s right”, Rex spoke up, finally taking his eyes from you to direct his words to Kanan. “Even though it might’ve been hard sometimes, we never let anything keep us from dutifully serving the republic. We had agreed in the very beginning, nothing would sway us from playing our parts in the war, not even our love for each other.” He looked to you with a solemn expression, and you knew he was reliving the same memories that you were in that moment. Remembering all the times you two had parted ways, off on your own missions, saying a bitter goodbye, not knowing if it would be your last.

You were snapped out of your memories when Kanan finally spoke, “That… that must’ve been tough.” You both looked back to him but kept silent so he could finish. “Living day in and day out, with that fear of not knowing what day might be your last was something I think we all felt during the war, and that was hard to cope with at times. But to have that and feel that same fear for another person at the same time… that couldn’t have been easy, and I can tell you that to an extent, I understand how that is now. You never know what’s coming, and you can only hope that the person you care for survives it all, because if they don’t… well, you don’t know what you’ll do.” Kanan’s eyes were cast to the ground beneath him, a sullen look adorning his features.

Ezra stared at his master with a sad but understanding look. Clearly, he knew of who Kanan was referring to, you thought.

After letting a thick silence fill the area around you all for some time, you finally decided it was time to try and end this squabble, for real this time. You cleared your throat. “So… can we come to a truce then”, you asked, stepping from Rex’s hold and moving toward Kanan, holding out your hand for him to shake. He eyed it for a moment, then looked up to meet your eyes. You gave him a hopeful lopsided grin and a little shrug. Come on, what do you have to lose.

He slowly extended his hand, grabbing yours in a firm handshake. “Okay, truce, but I’m still going to be keeping a close eye on you all while we’re here”, he said with a serious tone before he gave you a small grin.

You let out a light huff of laughter and said, “I’d be surprised if you didn’t.” You released his hand and made your way back into your husbands waiting arms. You gave each other a quick hug before turning back to face Ezra who was now smiling at the two of you. “Well, I’m glad that’s settled. So, can we all be friends now”, he asked, making all three of you chuckle.

Suddenly the door next to you slid open and Sabine emerged looking upset, waving a holopad in the air. You were about to ask her what was wrong, but she spoke first. “The clones gave us up. They warned the Empire we’re here”, she said in a huff.

“Wait what”, Ezra asked, shocked.

“You’re mistaken. We would never do that”, Rex said, reaching for the holopad, clearly confused.

Sabine snatched it away from his grasp. “I found the binary transmission to the Empire”, she said, pointing to the screen in her hand, “and there are messages Ahsoka sent to Rex and (Y/N) that they never answered.”

“What”, you and Rex said simultaneously.

“We never got any messages from Ahsoka”, you stated, peering to look at the screen of the holopad that Sabine had handed over to Rex.

“See I knew it, I knew they couldn’t be trusted”, Kanan said, walking toward Rex, pointing accusatively.

“Kanan wait”, Ezra said, holding a hand up to stop the man’s approach. He then turned to face you, Rex, and Wolffe, who had just joined you, and asked, “Is this true?”

Rex just stared at the screen for a few seconds before you saw a flash of realization light in his eyes. He then turned to the man behind you. “Wolffe, what did you do”, he asked, not sounding too happy. You turned around to look at Wolffe, who now had his back turned to you all.

“I…I contacted the Empire. If they found out we were helping jedi they’d wipe us out”, he said, still with his back to you.

“Wolffe how could you”, you asked, not being able to fully hide the hurt from your voice.

Wolffe turned to face you with a saddened expression, your voice clearly working on his emotions. “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t… I just… I’m sorry”, he said, looking to his feet shamefully.

You could hear Kanan speaking behind you, but you weren’t paying attention to what was being said, too focused on wrapping your head around why your friend would do this.

“Why Wolffe, why would you put us at risk like this”, you asked.

“I… I just wanted to protect us, they’d kill us if they knew we were harboring jedi”, he said, looking back up at you.

“Hello, you’ve been harboring a jedi for years now, why is this any different?”

“No, you’re not, I mean, you haven’t been a jedi in a long time, if anything your one of us now.”

“The Empire won’t see it that way”, you said, looking at him with a disappointed frown. “So, what was your plan exactly, call the Empire and let them capture the jedi, do who knows what to them? Were you gonna let them take me too?”

His eyes went wide, and he looked right into yours. “No! No, I would never let them hurt you, we would never let them hurt you. You’re family, aliit. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight, I know that now. Please forgive me (Y/N)”, he said, looking at you like a dejected puppy. You knew you couldn’t stay mad at him for long, especially since it clearly was a mistake on his part, and not a totally conscious one. Wolffe struggled with things like this sometimes, forgot who was truly responsible for all that happened, and wasn’t always sure of who he could trust. The only exceptions being his brothers and you. He knew he could always trust his family. This is why you found it hard to continue to be upset with him, so instead you gave in with a heavy sigh and wrapped your arms around him in a hug. He responded by hugging you back, whispering another shame filled apology.

“I know, I forgive you Wolffe”, you say before pulling away to look him in the eye, “but you have to make this right. These people are not the enemy, they’re our allies, and we have to protect them too.”

He searched your eyes for a moment, and in seeing your resolve gave you a tight nod, confirming that he’d found his own.

***

As it turned out, fixing Wolffe’s mistake wasn’t going to be as easy as you had thought. Unbeknownst to you, there had been a probe droid on board watching you all, for how long you weren’t sure, but it managed to damage the Phantom’s engine, which meant your new friends were stuck with you all for the time being, something you could tell didn’t make Kanan to happy. Rex had managed to destroy the probe, but the Empire was still on its way, and all you could do was prepare for the inevitable fight that was to come.

Everything happened quite suddenly, and before you knew it the Empire had arrived. They were using some new contraptions that neither you nor the clones had ever seen before, the others called them “walkers”. While impressed, the boys quickly stopped their analysis of the machines and came up with a plan. Retreat into the sandstorm that was brewing behind you to scramble their scanners and use the jedis’ force sight to maneuver your way out. This worked, but the imperials were soon gaining on your position once more. Once you exited the storm Rex instructed the others to leave, with the walkers still in the storm this was their only chance to escape back to their ship without being shot down. Most of them were on board with this plan, but Ezra didn’t want to leave you all behind.

“We can’t just abandon them”, Ezra said, still trying to convince Kanan to let them help you.

“You’re not abandoning anyone. We’re covering your escape. Now go”, Rex said in a commanding tone. He then turned to you and in a softer, but still authoritative voice said, “(Y/N), I want you to go with them.”

“What”, you asked incredulously. “No way.”

Rex sighed and took your hands in his. “Please cyare, those things are going to overrun us, and I don’t want you to be here when they do. I want you to escape with them, I want you to be safe”, he said, his eyes pleading with you to listen, just this once, but you wouldn’t have it.

“No Rex. If you’re going to fight, then so am I, and if this is where it ends, then I’m going to be right here beside you”, you tell him, releasing yourself from his grasp in order to bring your hands to cup his face, bringing his forehead to meet yours. Your eyes close as you say your next words. “If we’re going to die, then we’re going to do it like we’ve done everything else, together.”

You hear Rex sigh once more and you open your eyes to look at him. A small grin starts at the corner of his mouth, “You’re so stubborn, you know that?”

You chuckled lightly. “Yes, I am, and that’s why you love me”, you said, raising an eyebrow and giving a cocky grin. He shook his head at you, but relented, knowing full well he was not going to win this argument.

You both looked back to Ezra who still stood at the entryway of the Phantom, looking sadder than you’d seen him yet. You frowned and walked over to him, placing your hands atop the boy’s shoulders and bending down so you were at eye level. “Hey, it’s okay, we’ll be alright. We have each other’s backs, and that’s all we’ve ever really needed. Besides, we’ve faced worse than this”, you say, trying to reassure him.

“It’s just…”, he started, but you cut him off with a light shake of his shoulders.

“Come on, you gotta focus here. The most important thing for you to do right now is get out of here and get that information back to the rebellion, got it?” He nodded and looked to his feet. You hooked a finger under his chin and brought it up so he would look at you. “You did great out there you know, keep that up and you’ll make one hell of a jedi someday”, you said with an encouraging smile. He gave you a sad smile back before suddenly launching toward you, catching you in a tight hug. You were surprised at first, but soon hugged him back, smiling at the gesture. You had never had any kids of your own, but you thought that this might be close to how motherhood would feel. You had just met this kid, but you were already very proud of him and the actions he had displayed over the time he’d been with you, and although you were sad to see him go you knew he’d be alright, and that brought you an unexpected sense of comfort. A few moments later you finally pulled away, smiling as you told him, “Now go.”

Ezra nodded again, this time a little more confidently, and backed into the starfighter. You moved, walking backwards, stopping to stand next to Rex as you watched them take off. Once they were airborne you turned to your husband with a knowing grin. “So, do we have an actual plan for taking those things down, or are we just winging it”, you asked.

He chuckled. “Well, unless you have any last-minute ideas, I think winging it is our only option”, he said, shrugging.

“Good”, you said, placing your hands on your hips, “Because that was my idea.” He laughed at your sudden perkiness, it reminded him of the old days when you two would exchange snarky comments in the heat of battle, it made the terrors on the battlefield a little easier to deal with and often helped to temporarily relieve his stress. “Now, let’s get to work”, you said and began to walk to the front of the tank. Before you could get more than two steps away you felt a tug on your wrist and were suddenly pulled against Rex’s chest. You looked up at him, a slightly surprised look on your face. He smiled and brought a hand to the back of your neck, bringing you into a deep, passionate kiss, which you immediately melted into, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in even more. You knew this fight would most likely be your last and it was clear he was thinking the same, so you decided to make this moment last, and just marvel in the love that was held there between you. After a few seconds, that were much too short for your liking, you both pulled away but still held onto one another, foreheads lightly touching, for a while longer.

“Whatever happens, I just want you to know that you’re the best thing to ever happen to me. I’m glad I chose love over following the rules, I’m glad I chose you”, Rex said, cutting the silence that had built between you two.

You smiled at his confession, “I’m glad I chose you too Rex. I love you.”

“And I love you (Y/N).” You slowly released one another and shared one more loving glance before you each were heading off to your stations to prepare for the fight that was about to ensue.

You went to stand at the front of the tank, detaching your sabers from your hips and holding them, still deactivated, at your sides while Rex manned the cannon. “Wolffe, bring us around”, you heard him yell to his fellow trooper. The tank began to turn, changing its direction to head straight for the walkers now in front of you.

As you made your approach the walkers began blasting the tank. You blocked a few shots with your sabers but weren’t able to deflect them all since they were shooting from two separate angles. One blast had the tank faltering and falling in the front, causing you to have to hold on to the railing in front of you so as not to fall. You looked behind you to the trooper driving the huge machine. “Wolffe, get us level”, you yelled to him.

“Yes General”, he said firmly. He then pulled the levers in his hands toward him and upwards, causing the tank to begin to lift in the front before finally being back on its feet once more. You took your defensive stance up again once you were able to get your footing. You were coming up quickly on the walkers and were desperately trying to come up with a crazy plan to take them out, if memory served you the craziest plans always seemed to be the most effective. You were halfway through your thinking when you heard Wolffe shout from behind you. “I’m going for the legs, all four of them.”

You turned to him with an incredulous look. “Are you crazy, there’s no way that’ll work”, you said, raising your voice over the commotion surrounding you.

“Never know until we try”, he responded.

You were about to argue against the idea until you remembered your previous thought. It was a crazy idea, so it just might work. You jump to the position right above him, looking down through the glass. “Alright then, have at it Commander”, you told him encouragingly.

He nodded and pushed forward, ramming the tank into the walker ahead. It seemed to be working, until it wasn’t, the tank now with its front legs halfway up the walker’s. You were almost sure that you would all be turned upside down any minute. You thought fast. You did have one plan, maybe impossible given your lack of practice over the years, but it was worth a shot. However, before you could put your plan into action you heard Rex shouting from somewhere behind you. “Come out and fight, you cowards”, he yelled to the men in the walker. He was standing on top of the cannon, and right in the line of fire. You cursed at him internally before leaping toward him, landing right in front of him, sabers ready to block the inevitable blast. Although, it never came. Before they could retaliate, the walker was shot from the side, throwing it off balance enough to distract them from their attack. You looked to see the Phantom fly under it and make its way to the second walker, you then saw Ezra, Kanan, and Zeb jump from the starfighter and land on its head before using their sabers to cut the hatch off and enter the machine. You grinned, and before you could voice the thought, Rex did it for you. “Just like the old days”, he said.

You turned, still grinning, to look at him. “Speaking of…”, you didn’t finish before running up the barrel of the cannon, replacing your sabers on your hips along the way.

“Wait, what are you doing”, he asked, concerned.

“Can’t let them show me up now can I”, you asked him, sending a playful wink over your shoulder. You used your higher position to launch yourself upward toward the first walker and was able to grab onto one of the blasters on the side of its head. You then swung yourself toward the top, landing much more gracefully than you’d expected to. You then drew your sabers and repeated the actions of the other two force-wielders, cutting a hole in the head and jumping down into it. You took your attack stance as soon as you were in, but when you looked around there was no one there. Walking to the control panel, you looked out to see the scene below and a movement from your right caught your eye. It was the imperials that had been manning the very walker you were in now; they had evacuated and were now fleeing on a speeder bike. “Huh, they really are cowards”, you said out loud to yourself.

Rex was below, now back in his seat behind the cannon. He was waiting to take the shot until he knew you were out. He wasn’t about to take that risk and was about to call the whole idea off when he saw something shoot out the head of the walker. He squinted to see better and nearly jumped out of his seat when you landed on the barrel of the cannon, giving a little mischievous grin when you noticed you’d startled him.

Rex shook his head. “So, did ya get ‘em”, he asked, eyebrow cocked and grinning back.

You jumped down, coming to stand next to him. “Nah, those hut’unns turned tail before I could even get to them. Took off that way”, you said, pointing in the direction you saw the speeder go.

“Oh, well then I guess there’s no need to blast this thing then”, he said, gesturing to the walker, “and just when we got the power restored, ah well.” You could see the slight disappointment on his face.

“You could still blast it you know”, you told him.

“To what purpose, they’re already gone.”

You laid a hand on his shoulder. “For no other purpose then the satisfaction of seeing this hunk of junk fall”, you said with a smile.

He grinned at you. “Have I told you how much I love you lately”, he asked.

You bent down so your face was next to his. “Yeah, but it’s always nice to hear it anyway”, you said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before straightening and standing behind him.

Rex took the shot and you all watched as the walker fell to the ground. “You were right, that was satisfying.”

***

You and Rex had decided to leave the quiet life behind for now and join the rebellion, after a bit of convincing from Ezra and Sabine that is. You had said your goodbyes to Wolffe and Gregor before you left.

“So, I guess this is goodbye then”, Wolffe said, looking a bit downcast.

You laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. “For now, but we’ll all see each other again”, you said, giving him a reassuring smile.

He gave a breathy chuckle. “Did the force tell you that”, he asked sarcastically. He always loved messing with you like that.

You rolled your eyes. “No, but it didn’t need to, I just know. Besides, you guys can’t get rid of us that easily”, you said smirking at them.

Gregor came to stand beside you draping an arm over your shoulders. “Well good, because we don’t want to”, he said, smiling wide. You laughed. Gregor was always the one to lighten the mood, always the chipper one, and so damn optimistic that it almost annoyed you sometimes, but you had to love him for it. You loved all your boys for who they were and for what made them unique, this affection only grew after the war when you all decided to live together in seclusion, and you got to know them better.

During the war it always seemed like there wasn’t enough time to properly get to know all your men, especially the ones outside of the 501st, who you’d been more often affiliated with. However, on the rare occasions where you did work outside of your Legion you tried to widen your friend group, meeting other troopers and their commanding officers, befriending all who would have you. As a jedi you knew this wasn’t advised seeing as you were not to form attachments and all, but at the time you really didn’t care, still didn’t in fact, and looking back you were glad you hadn’t. You knew that throughout the war you would lose many of these friends, and it wouldn’t be easy, but you had accepted that and would take it in stride as it came, because in the end you knew that these friendships would do more good than hurt. Sometimes, a lot of times, all these men needed was a good friend, an ear to listen to the chaos within their minds after hard battles, and on occasion even a shoulder to cry on. You were willing to be all these things for them and did it with as much grace and kindness as you could. It was due to this that it was so easy for Wolffe and Gregor to trust you after the war. Even with their chips removed, they were still confused for a long while, not knowing who to trust but each other, but with you they found it to be much easier, remembering all the times you had been there for them and their men and knowing you would never do anything to betray their trust. Yes, you loved your newfound family, and you’d do anything to keep them safe, which is why you’d finally agreed to join the fight to take down the Empire, it was the only way to make sure they’d never come after your men again. Although, it was still hard to say goodbye.

You looked between the two men, an almost sad smile forming on your face and before you could even think you’d brought them both into a tight hug, one which they returned in kind. “Just don’t do anything too reckless while we’re gone, okay”, you requested, pulling back with a kind smile and wiping the tear that had fallen down your cheek away with your fingertips.

“We’ll do our best General”, Gregor stated with a nod. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him for addressing you by rank, you weren’t going to argue, not now.

Rex came to stand beside you, facing his brothers. “You both did excellent work today, I have no doubt you’ll handle yourselves in whatever is to come, but let’s hope you won’t have to”, he said with a grin, clapping them both on the shoulder.

“Well, if you ever need us, you know where to reach us”, Wolffe said, clamping his hand over Rex’s forearm, a gesture you had seen exchanged from brother to brother many times before, and it brought a warm feeling to your chest every time. Rex nodded before releasing them and bringing an arm to wrap around your waist, its constant home over the years. “You two stay safe alright? I don’t want to have to find replacements for you, not that there even is such a thing”, Wolffe said with a sideways grin.

You smiled at this and then straightened your posture, giving your men a formal salute and holding it, Rex following suit, standing in the same position beside you. The two commanders returned the salute. After a moment you relaxed and returned to a normal standing position, everyone else doing the same. “Until we see each other again”, you said.

“Until we see each other again”, the two men echoed your words simultaneously.

***

You had docked the rebel ship and were following the Ghost crew down the brightly lit hallways before turning a corner and coming to a stop. You knew before they parted to let you both pass who would be standing on the other side, you had felt her familiar force signature as soon as you had boarded.

Rex stepped forward first, walking toward the smiling togruta. “Commander”, he addressed his old friend. “You got old.”

Ahsoka chuckled. “Had to happen sometime Rex”, she replied. She looked hesitant for a moment before embracing him in a tight hug.

You watched the interaction between the two, smiling to yourself, realizing just how long it had been since you had seen your friend, it felt like ages now. As you were in this train of thought Ahsoka pulled back from the embrace and suddenly looked over his shoulder, something catching her eye. “(Y/N)”, she said, it almost came out as a sigh.

Ahsoka walked to you and pulled you into a tight embrace as well, which you happily returned. “Hey Ahsoka, it’s been a while”, you said with a laugh.

Releasing each other from the hug, you both looked at one another. “I think that’s a bit of an understatement”, she responded, giving a light laugh of her own before the two of you turned to Rex.

“We’re just glad you’re still alive”, he said to her. You put a hand on her shoulder, giving a confirming nod.

“You too”, she said, looking between you and Rex.

“Well, we wouldn’t be if it weren’t for these guys”, Rex stated, gesturing to the crew behind you.

“Thank you for trusting my friend”, Ahsoka said, seeming to direct her thanks mainly to Kanan, who was surprisingly much less angry than you last remember sensing.

“It wasn’t easy”, Kanan confessed to her, “It still isn’t.”

You and Rex shared a saddened glance and you silently wondered if Kanan would ever come around, but you also made the decision to try not and push the topic, not now at least.

“Nothing worth doing ever is”, Ahsoka told him, and with that you all walked to the command center, for a rebellion is not built on pleasantries.

***

After a brief discussion of the next course of action, you had been dismissed to settle in, and were led to the room that you and your husband would be sharing for the time being. Before you could even sit down there was a knock at the door and you were surprised to find it was Sabine, asking to borrow you for a little while. You had agreed, albeit a bit hesitantly, wondering what the young girl could possibly need you for, especially with that excited glint in her eye. You shrugged at your confused spouse before following her out of the room.

Awhile later you returned, quite pleased with the outcome of your little surprise endeavor with the Mandalorian girl, who was very happy with herself when all was said and done. You entered your shared quarters and stopped just after entering, letting the door slide shut behind you. This got Rex’s attention and he turned to you from where he was seated, his smile dropping as soon as he properly laid eyes on you, his features morphing into a look of shocked admiration, and quickly closed his mouth that had opened in a slight gape.

He blinked a few times before finally speaking. “Cyar’ika you look…”, he started to say, but found he couldn’t think of the proper word to articulate what he was thinking at the moment.

You smiled. “You like it”, you asked, bringing your hands up to touch your hair, which was now styled in a way that complemented the shape of your face perfectly and now sported dyed blue tips. Sabine had also given you a fresh pair of clothes that she thought would fit you nicely. They did fit, even though they were a bit tighter than you would’ve liked, and the cut on the long-sleeved top was a bit lower than you were used to, but it was still high enough for you to consider it conservative, well conservative enough. Although, with the way your husband was staring at you now, you were grateful for these aspects, seeing just how much he was appreciating the way the outfit hugged your curves by the way his eyes scanned you from head to foot.

He stood and walked the short distance to you, taking your hands in his. “Like it? I love it, you look absolutely stunning, downright delectable even”, he said with a wicked grin.

You smacked his chest lightly, shaking your head. “And here I thought I married and gentleman”, you said, not being able to hide the grin that was forming.

“Oh, you did, it’s just that you have this incredible talent of pushing me to my limit at times, especially when you come in looking like this”, he said, eyeing you up again.

You blushed under his gaze. “Well, at least I know I’ve still got it”, you said, giving him a playful smirk.

He suddenly pulled you to his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you secure against him, your faces only inches apart now. “Cyare, you never lost it”, he said cocking an eyebrow as he continued to grin at you, and with that you pulled him into a loving kiss, one that he quickly leaned into and deepened.

You pulled away after a bit to make eye contact once more. Rex released one of his arms from around you to bring his hand up to your hair, lightly playing with the tips between his fingers. “I like the hair too, always did think this color suited you.”

You gave a slight shrug. “You know me, always more than willing to support my boys in blue.”

You both shared a small laugh before catching each other’s lips in another kiss, this one a bit more tender than the last.

“So is this a bad time to talk about how I might be wishing we'd rethought our decision about not having kids”, he asked in a low voice once you two parted from the kiss.

You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in topics. “Umm, alright, what brought this on”, you asked.

He looked to the hand that was still playing with your hair, not wanting to make direct eye contact as he spoke his next words. “Well, it's just that, seeing you with Ezra earlier today, it made me realize, you'd make a great mother, and I almost feel like we've missed out on something special, and this isn’t exactly the first time the thought has crossed my mind. I’ve always wondered if we were making the right call not having a child of our own, but you seemed happy with our life together and I didn’t want you to ever feel pressured, I wanted it to be your choice, I still do.”

“Rex are you trying to tell me you want to have children”, you asked.

“Maybe, but not if you don’t, I mean… do you”, he asked, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“Well, I won't say I've never thought about it, especially in the early years of our relationship. I'd often wonder what it would be like to have a little version of you running around."

“Or you”, he said with a smile.

You smile. “I guess it would be nice to have an addition to the family, and I'm sure the boys would make great uncles. Well, maybe with some supervision”, you say, chuckling out that last part.

“Really”, he asked, clearly a bit surprised by your response.

“Rex, I know I won't be able to keep you for as long as I'd like, I accepted that reality a long time ago”, you said, sliding your palm against his causing him to let go of the piece of hair he was still holding and intertwining your fingers with his, “but maybe if I have something of you left after, something we created together, then maybe I'll be able to continue on because I'll still be living for you, or at least a part of you." You were desperately trying to keep the tears you felt building behind your eyes from making their way out. You hated thinking about this, your husband’s shortened life span was never a topic you wanted to think about for too long, it was a reality you did not care to observe in your everyday life, but reality it was, and you knew someday you would have to face it. Just not today.

He pulled you closer with the arm still around your waist. “Oh Cyar'ika, I love you so much”, he said, kissing your forehead.

“And I love you, with all my heart.”

“So, we're really doing this then?”

You giggled at his noticeable excitement. “Yes, we're really doing this”, you confirmed. He then let go of your hand and cupped your cheek, pulling you into a kiss so full of love it nearly took the breath right out of you. You laughed once you managed to pull away again, trying to get your next thought out. “We can start trying when we have some time to ourselves.”

“We have time now”, he said, swiftly moving his hands to firmly grip your hips and pull you flush against him. Your senses left you for a second, heat rushing to your face and chest at the implication, before you were able to compose yourself.

You chuckled, coming back to your senses. “Actually, we don't. We've been asked to help pick the location for the rebel base. They figured since we were the ones to give the intel that we'd be able to find the safest place. I'm sure they've already started reviewing the list, so we'd better get going”, you said, a bit annoyed at the fact, there were much better things you could be doing, but you did promise to do whatever you could to help in this rebellion. Damn, why’d you always have to be the responsible one?

Rex broke you from your inner ramblings with another heated kiss that had you weak in the knees. “Alright fine, but tonight you're all mine”, he said against your lips.

“Deal. Now let's go, we're late”, you said, still smiling like a lovesick teenager and reluctantly pulling away from his embrace, which he did not want to make easy, but eventually gave in and released you.

As you made your way to the door, trying to compose yourself once again, he spoke. “Hopefully soon you'll be the one who’s late”, he said, taking you by surprise yet again.

You turned and raised an eyebrow at him and jokingly asked, “Okay, who are you, and where is the Rex I married?”

He laughed, coming to stand in front of you and leaning in slightly. “What can I say cyar’ika, you’ve made me bold”, he said, giving you a mischievous smile.

You shake your head and opened the door, taking him by the hand and leading him out into the corridor. “Alright, alright. Come on Stud, we have to go”, you said and began making your way to the bridge of the ship, “and save the dirty talk for tonight okay?” You grinned at him over your shoulder, continuing to pull him along.

He smiled and quickened his stride to walk alongside you, lacing his fingers with yours. “Yes Ma’am”, he responded softly.

You couldn’t seem to keep the smile off your face, for several reasons. The main two being that you knew you had quite the night ahead of you, thank the force for the private quarters, and you were thrilled at the idea of having Rex’s child. You weren’t sure what this new future would hold for the both of you, but you were ready to find out.

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yespolkadotkitty · 3 years

Note

Okay it’s 230am and I just had a VAGUE idea that I HAD to share. There’s this silly TikTok I keep seeing of someone on their apartment balcony eating snacks, and the partition with their neighbor’s side is just a cloth/sheet. And their neighbor’s dog sticks it’s head under the cloth to see what the person is eating and it makes me laugh SO HARD every time I see it. SO! What if there was an instance with (Ezra? I’m feeling for some reason? Maybe Javi Peña?) SOMEONE who’s dog did that to his neighbor, you, and he falls in love with your laugh every time his dog does that. Y’all haven’t ever seen each other beyond little passing moments within the complex, but anyway he fell completely head over heels in love with you simply because of your laugh.

OR MAYBE YOU HAVE THE CURIOUS PUP AND YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH HIS LAUGH I don’t know. You’re the criminal mastermind here, not me. ANYWAY BYEEEE LOVE YOUUUU

I am so sorry, I've sat on this for AGES. I loved this ask.

Pairing: ex-soldier!Ezra x f!reader ~ warnings: mention of missing limb

***

You settled into your spot on the balcony, digging into the cheesy-flavour corn chips. Okay, so they didn't taste of real cheese, but that fake taste was still addictive.

You popped one chip into your mouth and counted to ten in your head.

When you got to four, a snout appeared under the diving curtain.

Your apartments had a strange arrangement. The balconies were joint, but by mutual agreement, privacy had been arranged with a thick curtain.

Under which dogs could scramble.

The snout prickled, sniffing.

You rolled your eyes and tossed a corn chip down.

The snout gobbled it up. A satisfied panting was heard.

You laughed, went back to your book, a space opera with colourful characters and a flimsy but very entertaining plot.

The snout returned, this time bumping your hand where it rested on the balcony floor. You giggled, patted the long nose of the dog - an alsatian maybe? You weren't too hot on dog breeds. Another chip went the dog's way.

Again another happy pant. Again the snout appeared and a little whine with it.

"Oh, baby." You patted the wet nose. "No one feeding you?"

You dug into the chips, and raised one to your mouth when a voice carried through the curtain.

"Oh, I feed him, all right. All he does is eat. Hollow legs, I should've named him."

The voice was southern, deep, and the husky drawl tickled you in all the right places.

"I'm sorry," you began, "I shouldn't-"

"Not at all. It's me who should apologise, ma'am, buttin' in like that. It's only, your laugh is simply enchanting."

Your face heated. Real people didn't talk like that.

"Um. Thanks."

"You're more'n welcome," the man replied.

You reached out to the curtain, then stopped. He hadn't asked you to move it. Maybe he wanted privacy.

Maybe he was undressed. You were eight floors up, no one to peek in from across the hall.

The thought made heat creep up your neck.

The dog's snout appeared again, and this time, the rest of its head followed. Sure looked like an alsatian; the classic police dog in TV shows.

"Aren't you a cutie?"

"As flattered as I am, you ain't even laid eyes on me yet," the voice replied.

You snorted. He was funny.

"Well?" You asked, petting the dog, whose eyes rolled back in bliss as you scratched his head. "Are you as cute as your dog?"

"No one's as adorable as that mutt." But the curtain lifted, slowly.

You set the bag of chips down as the dark fabric rolled up and up, to reveal first a set of legs in cargo pants - broad thighs (perfect for sitting on, you thought, mildly embarrassed), half-laced combat boots with scuffed toes, and then a similarly broad torso in a grey shirt with an open neck, and finally, a face set in a hesitant smile, strong nose, big, curious brown eyes, a full mouth and a flare of blond in his dark-toffee brown hair, tumbled atop his head.

And he had one arm. The other arm of the shirt was pinned neatly.

"Howdy," he murmured, in that voice made for sin.

"Hi," you whispered back.

The corner of his mouth tilted up. "So. Am I as adorable as this ex-special forces mutt, or what? No contest, right?"

You laughed, holding his gaze. "Is the man ex-special forces, too?"

He jerked his injured shoulder. "Sure is. Lost my primary weapon to 'em. But I got to keep Number One - that’s the cheese-lovin’ mutt - so, it's an overall win." He nodded to your book. "What'cha readin', neighbour?"

"A space opera." You show him the cover.

He makes a face.

"Not a sci-fi fan?"

He shrugs with what's left of his far shoulder. "Depends on the book, I guess. Never was much for bein' stranded way out there. I've been stranded in enough inhospitable places for a lifetime." He tilts his head. "Maybe if you read me some, though..?"

You scoff. "Seriously?"

"What can I say, neighbour. Your laugh enchants me. Is it wrong that your voice does, too?"

*******

Tagging some folk who might like this because MY GOOGLE DOCS HAVE CRASHED AND I LOST MY TAGLIST **brb crying forever**

@skvatnavle @songsformonkeys @knittingqueen13 @just-here-for-the-moment @the-blind-assassin-12 @littlemissthistle @mylovelycomandante @absurdthirst @dornish-queen @astroboots @heatherbel @mourningbirds1 @sarahjkl82-blog @tintinn16 @likes-good-reblogs-even-better @grousmum @bison-writes @thirstworldproblemss @hopeamarsu @radiowallet @the-ginger-hedge-witch @asta-lily @disgruntledspacedad @mrsparknuts @missredherring @nolanell

Anyway please add yourself to my taglist here

#ezra prospect #ezra prospect x female reader #prospect 2018 fic #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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insomniamamma · 2 years

Text

Ribbons & Wings: Ezra x f!reader w/Cee

A/n: I started this on a night of heavy snow followed by blistering cold. I have seen the northern lights, once in Alaska and once in in western New York state. Set between after "Rain" around the same time as "Clean Dirt." I may revise the timeline as I see fit. As with everything else in this AU, this can stand alone. Reader is nicknamed "Artichoke" and "Prickle." Ships and Kings is a game that persists through my Prospect fics,. Cross DND with chess played on a hexagonal board. As with any game there are house rules that vary. Kevva’s Flick is a highly contested (and some claim illegal) move in Ships and Kings.

Warnings: Language. Anxiety. Food mentions. Mentions of old injuries. Snowball fights?

"--all ships in northern quadrant be advised boost is not recommended at this time. Hold tight if you are able--next pickup is in 10.25 cycles--"

"What does that mean?" asks Cee, "Understood, drop-com, we'll see you on the other side--" "Ezra, what does that mean?" You hear the rising panic in Cee's voice and reach for the thrower you keep stashed under your bunk. "There's a storm coming," says Ezra, "Might close our take-off window." "So we're stranded." Says Cee. She stands and gets in Ezra's face, "You told me this wouldn't happen." "I can't control the weather, Birdie," says Ezra, "We launch into a blizzard and there's a chance we break up." "Fuck--" "How long?" You ask and they both snap their heads around as if they've forgotten you're there, "If we get grounded how long are we here?" "You heard the man," says Ezra, "10.25 cycles." "That's two hands," you say, "We can make that. We'll be fucking sick of Bitz-bars but we've got enough margin." "What if we boost now? Minimum checks--" "C'mere," says Ezra, he sits on the edge of his crash couch and Cee takes her place beside him, "You too. Let me show you something." Ezra plops his battered data pad into Cee's waiting hands, she holds it so he can manipulate the touch screen. You hunker behind Cee, peering over her shoulder, hunched in the confines of the pod. "I'm getting the same info yon freighter's getting from the weather sat, about a sixteenth delayed," says Ezra. He zooms into the northern quadrant where the pod rests near a large, frozen over lake. "Ooo-oooh," says Cee, face pinched with worry, "That's bad. If that's from a sixteenth ago--" "Conditions are likely worse by now." "What are we looking at, Ez?" You ask. "The lines are wind direction, the color scale is speed. We take off now, our boost curve takes us through the worst of it, right at the point of maximum dynamic pressure." "That could tumble us." "Could do worse than that," says Ezra, "Big gust could crumple us like a beer can." "But if we miss the sling--" "Artichoke's right," says Ezra, "We've got rations for at least 15. More if we stretch it." "If worse comes to worse we can do some ice fishing," you say. "Bleee-arrgh," Cee makes a wretching sound. You were harvesting the spiker fish for their odd, metal-rich navigation organs and you'd cooked one over the camp fire just to see what the meat tasted like. "That was like licking a battery terminal." "Lick many battery terminals, Little Bird?" Cee laughs. "Spend enough time in a pod and you'll do just about anything for fun." "The spiker wasn't that bad," you say. Ezra and Cee look at you with mixed horror and fascination, "I've had worse things in my mouth." "Didn't need to know that," says Cee.

We best power down what we don't need, said Ezra, and the three of you began a systems check. Reading off the things you were each responsible for when getting ready to drop or boost. Proximity radar and chute pyro-batts were obvious. Local comms. External lighting. Scrubbers. You sure about the scrubbers? Air's fine, it's just cold, we can reverse the aft vents and draw heat off the RTG baffles. "We're only talking two hands," you say, "Between the reserve tanks and the scrubbers we should be fine," and Ezra gives you a flat-eyed look that means you've strayed somewhere you're not supposed to be just yet. "Two hands have a way of becoming more,"says Ezra, "We take what care we can. Clear?" "Sure. Clear."

The pod sounds strange half powered down. You don't notice the faint clicks and chirps of the guidance computer until it's offline. In your head you know it'll boot back up just fine, but it still feels deeply wrong having it off. Same with the Baas converter, all the hardware that does the thinking for you. The wind moans through the trees outside, a low warbling wail that resonates through the pod. You and Cee exchange glances. She's got her music player on, but her eyes are big and dark and scared, and you don't like this any more than she does. There's no snow on Falnost but wind is something you understand, driving sand before it that can etch windows, it never happened to any of your livestock, you and your father and brothers were too careful for that, but you'd hear stories about pink skeletons, stripped of flesh but still fresh enough to ooze from their marrow. "We'll be fine," says Ezra, "We're stable." Eventually you drift into an uneasy sleep. There's nothing else to do.

"We've definitely missed the window," says Ezra, confirming what you expected, "But we might as well have fun little while we're here, right?" You are barely awake, sipping fake coffee from a pouch. "Fun?" "Snow, stupid!" Says Cee, she's already wriggling her way into her thermal gear, "It snowed like crazy overnight! We can bury ourselves in it! We can make a snow fort! Let's go!" You smile, but you feel it curdle, you know what snow is, you've seen vids, and the way Ezra is looking at you you can tell that he knows, he knows you've never seen snow, never felt it for yourself, and you can't look at him. There is so much you don't know. You start suiting up out of habit, thermal gear for a cold world, outer layers for batt-assisted heating-- "Hey," says Ezra, "You okay, Prickle?" "Sure." "I know they didn't--" "Yeah, yeah, we didn't have snow there. We didn't have RAIN there. We'd get a little bit of hard frost come winter but that doesn't count--" "Easy," says Ezra, "Easy. Cee's just over excited." He nods towards the open hatch now venting your hard-won warmth. Cee's voice comes faint from outside, you guys coming or what? "She hasn't had much chance to play in the snow." You exit the pod into a new world. The gravelly shores of yesterday are blanketed in white, the branches of the feather-trees droop in low arcs, burdened with snow. You can feel the snow collapse when you step in it, hear it, a small crumping sound beneath your boots, you turn towards Ezra, smiling and something frigid and granular and wet splatters against the nape of your neck, and you whirl, reaching for the thrower your left on the pod and Cee's laughing, her cheeks pink with the cold. "Gotcha!" She crows and bends down, sinks her hands into the blanket of white. You smile. This might be your first snow but you know mischief when you see it. You scoop up two handfuls of snow and squish them together, noting the give and push-back as it compresses down even as you aim for your crewmate's head. You miss by an Ephrate mile, and her next shot catches you mid-chest. For every shot you land she gets in at least three, and at last you scoop up and armload of snow and start chasing her round the back of a huge feather-tree, and Cee throws up her arms in defense and splutters laughter when you dump it on her. The two of you pause, laughing and out of breath, Cee's cheeks and nose flaming pink. "Cee? Artichoke?" Ezra's voice peals out from the pod , "By your silence I am assuming you are up to no good and I will act accordingly." "He's so goofy," says Cee, and grins at you, "Allies?" "Yeah. Let's get him." Cee bends and starts making snowballs. Ammo dump, she whispers and you nod. Right. "Cee? Prickle?" Cee leans around the tree trunk and yells. "Come and find us old man!" "Old man," you hear him mutter and Cee giggles. She knows just where to poke and how much pressure to apply, "You think you're so hard to track leaving boot prints in the snow--" Ezra rounds the tree trunk and you paste him, snowballs exploding all over his suit. You try not to aim for his head. Cee has no such compunctions. One of her snowballs catches him right in the face, and he shakes his head, snow caught in his mustache, wipes the snow out of his eyes-- "--Oh," he looks past you and Cee, his eyes wide, white limned, "Oh Kevva what's that?!" You turn your head to the dark undergrowth and there's the whine of a discharged thrower over your head and you barely register Ezra's laugh before you and Cee are buried in a shower of snow from above.

You splutter and swipe snow out of your eyes, out of the open neck-hole of your suit. Cee shakes her head, a brief, indignant halo of flakes ringing her flushed face. Ezra howls laughter. He's bent double, face red, eyes squinched shut. "You shoulda seen your faces--" he wheezes. "That was cheating!" says Cee, "No fair--" "That was tactics! That was strateegery--" Ezra takes a bad step and overbalances, flails his arm out and falls on his ass in the snow. "That was Kevva's Flick!" You say and grin. Kevva's Flick is a marginally legal move in Ships and Kings, the kind of thing that will get you stuffed out an airlock if you try it in the wrong company. A badly missed stealth roll followed by a natural sixteen means that your opponent can flick one of your pieces off the board like dislodging and errant piece of lint. The only reason you even know about it is because Ezra pulled it on Cee and they spent the next eighth arguing and wasting precious bandwidth looking up the legality of the move over the drop-net. Cee throws back her head and laughs, bright and clear. Ez crawfishes in the snow and then manages to heave himself upright. "Hmmm," says Ezra, narrows his eyes, but his dimpled smile gives him away, "I know where you sleep, little bird." "I know where you sleep too," says Cee, "Call truce?" A hard gust bends the tops of the feather trees, sending snow down in slow whorls, a low moaning sound that makes the nape of your neck prickle. "We should get back inside," you say, "Wind's gonna pick up." "Truce," says Ezra, and flashes you a smile, "Let's get on in before our C5 friend freezes solid." You trace your tracks back to the pod, landing struts buried in white, it's uglier angles and dents covered over. "Oh hey!" Says Cee, "We can make snow angels!" You and Ezra look at each other, but before you can say anything, Cee is stomping out into the wide expanse of unbroken white. "It's easy, see?" She flops down on her back in the drifted snow and fans her arms and legs. "We called 'em phoenixes back home," you say, and pull Cee to her feet, careful not to step in the wing shaped marks she's left behind, "Once things settled after a storm we'd draw pictures in the dust." You take a few steps so you don't mess up Cee's snow angel and flop down yourself. It feels different. Not like the dust that would puff up in your eyes and stick to your skin but the motion is the same, cloud laden sky instead of the screaming bright stars back home. Cee offers her hand and pulls you up. "Not bad, dirt-farmer," she says, "You do one, Ez. "If I must." Ezra takes a few steps and drops into the snow like a felled tree, makes his own pattern beside yours and Cee's. "I'm somewhat lacking in the wing department," says Ezra, "If I'm to be an angel--" "Hold up," says Cee. She wanders away from Ezra, back towards the dark of the trees and roots around, finds a fallen limb, some feather-needles still clinging to it. "My ass is getting awfully cold, little bird," "Stay still," says Cee, using the branch like a paint brush. "There." She casts the stick aside and offers her hand. She pulls Ezra up and turns him around so he can see her handiwork, a feathered wing traced in the snow, fanning out from the shortened arc at his right side. "See?" "Yeah. I see." Ezra pulls Cee against his chest, she stiffens, then lets herself be hugged, her arms creeping around his middle. "S'okay, Birdie," he murmurs into her hair and you turn away, embarrassed, feeling like you've seen something you shouldn't. The next gust of wind comes with a raft of blown snow, rough and cold against your cheeks. You bend down and draw your name in the snow with an outstretched finger and think of how very far you are from Falnost, the only one in your family to make it up out of the well and see snow. "Come on in before you freeze," calls Ezra, he stands at the ramp and waves, "The snow'll be here tomorrow." You smile. "Yeah. I suppose it will."

"Hey! Hey wake up!" Cee's voice cuts into your dreams, harsh and breathy and urgent and you are reaching for the thrower beneath your crash-couch before your eyes can unstick themselves. "Whuzzit birdie--" Ezra's sleep befuddled voice murmurs someplace to your left "Come on!" says Cee, and she's climbing into her gear, green witch-light shines through the pod's small, rounded windows, "You've got to see!" You pull on your thermal gear and follow her out the door and down the ramp, still half asleep. "What is this?" "I don't know," says Cee, her hand finds yours and the sky writhes overhead, shivering bands of green like curtains, like incandescent ribbons, dimming and shifting and brightening, columns that ascend into the dark, stars muted behind them. No sound at all, a silent ignition, silver-green edged in red. You feel Ezra fetch up beside you, his hand finding yours. "What am I looking at, Ez?" He squeezes your fingers. "It's an aurora," he says, "I think. I've never seen one before. Just vids." "It's so quiet," you say, your voice dropping to a whisper without even thinking. "It is," says Ezra. There is no sound at all associated with the shifting columns, the world gone so still that you can hear your crewmates breathing, hear the soft sussurration of your own pulse. You pull your eyes away from the churning sky to look at your friends’ faces, Cee smiles, wide and open, her pale hair frosted green, eyes alight. Ezra's face is a study in naked wonder, and it's like you’re seeing him for the first time, no spacer's charm, no worldly confidence, just him smiling up at the sky. You squeeze their hands and they squeeze back.

#prospect #prickle 'verse #ezra x f!reader w/cee #ezra x prickle #prickle 'verse au #ezra prospect #cee prospect #ezra and cee #ezra (prospect) x f!reader w/cee

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refinedpalette · 3 years

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A Thread of Appropriate Reactions

Fandom: Prospect (2018) Pairing: Ezra/Female Reader (no y/n) Rating: Mature; 18+ only Word Count: 2600ish

Warnings: smut; dry humping x anonymous sex; too many descriptions of things that aren’t smut

A/N: Set post-movie, with vague allusions to Ezra’s new singlehandedness. My first Kinktober fic! I’m using a combined list from prompts by @buckyownsmylife and @the-purity-pen and uhhh I’m real rusty at smut

Kinktober 2021 Masterlist

Of course there were no seats left on the transport.

You’d taken the same one for years. Gotten too accustomed to a friendly face holding a bit of space for you the way you did for them. The delay wasn’t ruinous; you’d built plenty of time into your commute to account for a delay. But it was a disappointment to trade the comfort of your everyday routine for, well, this.

Still trying to control your breathing after the mad dash from your pod to the station, you swung your bag down off your shoulders and nudged your way into the overstuffed car. Grumbling beings of all shapes, sizes, and smells made a bit of room--nearly enough to squeeze yourself through to one of the safety bars bolted from floor to ceiling.

The door whooshed closed behind you and the pod shimmied as the engines readied for departure. Straining your arm, you managed to brush a fingertip against the bar when the brakes disengaged.

Thankful for the mad press of bodies all around keeping you from toppling ass over turbine, you grimaced at the nearest face pointed in your direction.

"Imagine if it were raining," you joked, all too aware of the sweat that streamed down the back of your neck.

Somewhere behind you there was a snort of almost-laughter but you could hardly turn to find out who it was.

Giving up on the neighborly chitchat, you clutched your bag tighter to your belly. It wasn't much use trying to shrink yourself smaller, but even a micrometer of extra space would make the ride more bearable.

There were twenty-five stops between you and your destination. With any luck, as happened on your regular transport, most of the crowd would clear out by the halfway point and the rest would be gone long before you disembarked. There wasn't much in the way of sightseeing once you got past Division Central, and even less for respectable commuters such as the mostly well-groomed citizens around you.

It wasn't hard to spot who was in the system on recreation and who was lucky enough to have been born there, with all the rosy career and other prospects such a position allowed. You yourself had only stumbled into a tide of good fortune, delivering you to the pod once inhabited by a long-forgotten relative before being transferred to your name.

The transport slowly emptied around you. Bit by bit you were able to breathe more deeply, let your arms swing gently at your sides instead of clutching your belongings--or being deployed as a defensive shield around your gropeable parts.

A large delegation of big pocketed business types--slicked hair, smooth skin, brightly colored clothes with prominent labels--disembarked at the last stop for Division Central. At the other end of the spoke they would be whisked upward to their fancy offices while you trundled further into the interior.

No one boarded to take their place.

You swept a hand across your brow, wiping the last of the sweat away, before stepping forward to take one of the now blissfully empty bench seats.

Exchanging polite little disinterested half-smiles with the few people still waiting for their destination, you slumped back and lifted your bag to rest as a cushion between your head and the wall. The faint zing of the anti-graffiti field buzzed through the canvas to skitter across your scalp and down your spine. Hair lifted all over your body as your skin prickled. Despite the heat in the car, even your nipples tightened. This was one of your favorite things about the commute, the few minutes when you could pretend to be standing again beneath the flashing sky at the height of the storm season on your home planet.

Looking across to the other end of the car, you saw that a man was still smiling at you. Or, in your direction, anyway. His eyes were crinkled nearly closed with pleasure. He had his head tilted to one side, with his dark hair just long enough to start to curl against the wall within the anti-graffiti field. One hand idly brushed against his thigh in time with the energy waves that still zipped up and down your spine.

You smiled back, too blissed out by the decadent pleasure of being off your feet to think anything of it. After a moment, your gaze fell to his fingers again. Watched each sweep across his thigh. How he flexed them a little, those long fingers, how the square tips of his fingers and neat nails caught on the fabric of his rough trousers here and there. His motions kept remarkable time with the energy buzzing through the both of you. You felt as if he was tickling against your own thigh, raising again the fine hairs that dusted the skin beneath your trousers.

It was like the electricity passed from him, snaking up and over the shiny walls of the transport car before it trickled into you, pooling low in your belly with little flickers of awareness every time he scraped a nail or twitched up the corner of his mouth, those dark eyes fully open now, wide and deep and fixed on yours.

You jolted out of a near-trance when the doors whooshed open. The man sat up and stretched, his long lean body expanding with a deep breath. A flush raced through you, popping beads of sweat at your temples and under your arms as he scraped a hand over his jaw and stood. With a wink at you, he stepped backward onto the station platform, still locking his gaze with yours as if looking away was beyond him.

You couldn’t have moved. Not even if the idea had occurred to you, which it certainly didn’t until long moments later. He had you pinned to your seat, achingly aware of the stale air of the station sweeping into the car and over what little skin you had exposed to it. That your legs were sprawled open wider than you usually sat, hips tilted up as if waiting for some cue. One arm crossed over your belly, fingers resting on the outward spill of your hip. But the other arm stretched behind your head where it pressed against your bag. Those fingers, you realized, stroked the nape of your neck as if they belonged to someone else. Stroking your skin in time with the little pulses of electricity that zinged through you.

He smiled, the man. Not a smirk, with half his lip twisted upward, but a full bright grin, white teeth flashing in the artificial light, bunching up the cheeks of his round face. He didn’t wink again, but he did mouth something at you as the door closed and the transport prepared to leap forward again toward your destination.

A question, you thought. Tomorrow?

You hadn’t planned to be late again. Your routine was your routine, meticulously built up step by step over the years, to give you as little time spent on thinking about here or there or anything in between.

But. But. You had hardly slept, too twisted up in your thoughts to drift away in the darkness of your pod. The sheets were too heavy, too scratchy, too lacking in the warmth you craved against your skin. The air was too cool, the clothes you wore too restricting. You tossed and turned, steadfastly ignoring the one idea your body and brain seemed to agree would send you tumbling into blissful slumber.

"He's a total stranger," you whispered to yourself, punching your pillow into a new and still annoying shape. "You imagined most of it anyway."

But when you closed your eyes you saw that wide grin, the pale arc of a scar across his cheek, and those plush lips curling around tomorrow? If your hand swept down over your belly to rest between your thighs, fingertips skimming over your skin and deeper, well. That was no one’s business but yours, was it?

So, here you were, dawdling down the passageway from your pod berth to the station. If you stepped it up even a little, you would make your regular transport with time to spare--even after taking twice as long as usual to choose which of your two pairs of trousers to wear. You would board with your regular commuters, nod in passing to this or that face, daydream about the sliver of starlight that swept into the cramped office where you worked on this end of the rotation. All your normal, routine moments, in the right order and at the right times.

But. If you stopped to read the new announcements on the screen outside the recruiter's office. If you bought yourself a thick cup of caff and spent a hard-earned credit on real milk to sweeten it. If you slowed your pace even more, so that exasperated huffs swept past you in the morning rush in all directions.

The milk was worth it.

You had left your bag at home this time. No sense in lugging it all the way to work when you barely ever had time to open it while there. Better to leave your book where it had sat unread the night before, to let your newspad sit on the charger, and save yourself the trouble of packing another lunch of the same rations you could buy at the commissary. Even though your regular transport was hardly ever crowded, every little bit of space was worth it on a busy day.

Of course, the transport after yours was packed to the filters yet again.

You pushed your way in, determined not to look anyone in the face this time. Your own was already blooming with heat--at your audacity, at the way your stomach hollowed out as you pressed up to the safety bar, at your uncharacteristic willingness to believe that somehow a fantasy had come to life.

When the brakes disengaged and the transport lurched forward, you wrapped one hand around the bar and loosened your knees, letting the momentum sway through your body instead of fighting against it. Without your bag there was plenty of room between you and the beings around you, and you let your eyes slip closed for a moment.

Maybe it had been a dream. Maybe sometime in the long night before you had slipped into one, during those fitful hours, and given yourself a thrill.

For a moment, a wave of that zipping energy swept over your scalp and down your neck and spine, as if you had somehow brushed against the wall that still sat several feet away. You clutched the bar tighter and kept your eyes shut tight.

It wasn't the anti-graffiti measures this time. It was the brush of someone's fingers against the small of your back, where the waist of your trousers gaped away from your body a bit. Back and forth they swept, those fingers, dipping beneath the fabric a fraction and sending a sudden heat blooming all along the length of you. A breeze stirred past your ear, and with it came a voice.

"I knew you would not resist the lure, little bloom," he said.

Just as it had the day before, the car emptied almost entirely at the last Division Central stop. You sat on the same bench as you had then, but this time the man sat beside you. Your thighs pressed together from hip to knee, though his stuck a bit further out than yours. His hand brushed against his thigh, the way it had when you first saw him, but this time the electricity zinging through you had nothing to do with the field that sat behind your heads. On every pass, his pinky grazed against your leg and you felt that touch echo its way through you. It pulsed deep between your legs, zipped up your spine to spark in your brain, leaving nothing untouched in between.

You thought that maybe you had smiled at the one or two other beings still riding with you. Not that it mattered. You couldn’t have picked them out of a lineup with a rail gun to your temple. All you could see were those long fingers, rubbing back and forth.

The brakes thunked around the car as the transport approached the next station. You were so disconnected from your surroundings that you nearly lost your balance, even seated, and rocked into the man beside you. He lifted that hand you couldn’t stop watching and laid it down, squeezing it around the softness of your thigh, sweeping those fingertips up along the inseam of your trousers while the weight of it pressed you firmly in place while the car shimmied to a stop. His lips brushed against your ear as the other passengers stood to exit.

“This is my customary point of departure but I find this morning that I am reluctant to disembark. Should I keep you company until your destination, little bloom?”

His drawl was honey in your ear. You nodded a yes and his responding groan was pleased and rolled through you like thunder.

You shuddered on a flood of arousal--you could admit now that’s what it was, no more euphemisms or pretending, no more trying to deny it in the dark of night. The weight of his hand on you sent want clawing through your body. You wanted him to pin you to the bench, not with his hand but with his whole body, with his mouth on your skin and his knees wedged between yours. You wanted those fingers to dig into you, wherever they could find purchase. To feel his nails catch on the roughness of your body or glide through your softest parts. You wanted to feel his breath stutter against your neck, taste the salt of your own skin and his, discover where he was rough and hard and soft. You wanted to feel that crescent of a scar on his cheek between your lips, between your teeth, feel it catching on your skin as he moved over your body.

The transport had barely started moving again when you got at least one of your wishes. The shiny walls spun around you as the man pulled you into his lap, his nose skimming over your throat as his mouth moved to taste the sweat that gathered at your hairline.

There were words, surely. Praise, begging, compliments given and received, whispered and moaned into the stillness of the empty car. Words from him and you both, but you could attest to none of them later. All that mattered was the plush sweetness of his lips, the scratch of his facial hair on your chin and throat, the hot wet slide of his tongue against yours. He pulled at your hip until you straddled him there on the bench, knees pushing against the seat back as you rocked down to meet him.

The shimmying of the transport from one stop to the next pushed the solid ridge of his cock up into you. His thighs flexed to lift him up and up and up, until you rolled your hips back down against him, grinding deep and long when he pressed where you needed him most. Again and again, in time with the ragged breaths that slipped out of you both. In time with the buzz of the electric field against your fingertips when you locked your hands behind his head, until the sparking poured into you both, leaving static in its wake.

Only a few more stops before yours now. You pleaded with him, panting into his open mouth, your voice gone high with need. His fingers dug deep into your flesh, moving you harder against him until the seam of your trousers caught you exactly right. You came with a low moan, chin dug into the hollow between his neck and shoulder, convulsing in his lap. He guided you against him for another thrust or two before his own cry joined yours before they were both swallowed up by the thunk of the brakes.

It took the entire length of the last segment of tunnel for you to gather the strength to sit up. A whimper fell out of your mouth when you tried to shift back, to swing your leg back over his and collapse on the bench beside him. But it was okay, because one fell from him, too, as your lap dragged across his, the whimper every bit as high and thready as yours. He huffed out a laugh, almost a snort, so oddly familiar that you had to swoop back in to capture his mouth with yours.

He curved his hand around your cheek when you pulled away, thumb sweeping across your skin and pushing into the corner of your smile.

“Tomorrow?” he asked, with a hint of that wide grin tugging at his swollen lips.

“Tomorrow,” you agreed.

#ezra x reader #ezra x female reader #kinktober fic #ezra prospect #prospect fic #pedro pascal #ezra x you

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 2 years

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writer wednesday #10 6/29/22

Hi there friends, hope you’re all having a good week so far! I know its been 88 years since I did one of these posts and for that I am SO sorry. I’ve been doing a little better lately at carving out time to write AND read though, so I am getting back on track with these rec lists (and with the doodle reviews! look for a couple of those this weekend!) and with catching up on some stories that I have unknowingly overlooked, and I am so HAPPY about that. So without further ado, here are three things that I read this week that made me say “hey, that was great.”

*as always these stories are listed by order of length.

Confined by @imtryingmybeskar

Ezra (Prospect) x Female Reader

WC - 2.8k

One of my favorite things about reading Ezra stories is seeing what nicknames our silver tongued prospector comes up with for the other characters he interacts with. Usually he comes up with them after only knowing people for a short while, but somehow they always seem to fit perfectly. I think it’s because Ezra is a good judge of character (more on that in a minute) and he’s able to get a good read on people relatively quickly. The nickname he gives reader here is perfect yet again. Banshee fits not only because she was yelling and screaming her head off when he first meets her, but also because she has a fighting spirit. She’s no angel, no delicate flower, and though he’s not even looking at her when he calls her that, somehow he still sees that it’s right. And once they start talking he knows that its right. But Ezra isn’t the only one who is good at reading people, nor is he the only one with darkness in his rearview, and their conversation, trading truths to get to know one another, proves that Reader is just as good at reading people she barely knows as he is. Must be a Fringeling skill. I love that the thing he fibs about is so innocuous and that he’s only trying to make it match what the rest of the world thinks of him - not because he cares, but because he likes defying preconceived notions. His reasoning behind building up his vocabulary is so perfect, as is the way this one ends. I won’t give it away, but I will keep my fingers crossed that you might possibly think about writing more for these characters!! ;)

Brigand by @insomniamamma

Ezra (Prospect) x Female Reader

WC - 2.9k

MY FAVORITE SPACERS ARE BACK! I just get tickled every time I see an update from the Prickle ‘verse... even when they’re dealing with stinky space durians. I know I have said this before in regards to this series/collection, but the worldbuilding is so LUSH and IMMERSIVE I always feel like I am right there in the thick of things. I love how gritty and real yet completely extraterrestrial it all is. I love that more often than not, Ezra, Artichoke & Cee are in grimey, dangerous or otherwise unpleasant situations, but I never leave without a smile on my face. This one was no different. I love the dynamic that exists between the three of them. Love that Ezra and Cee work like one seamless unit and that even though Artichoke is usually a step behind on that (not her fault, she’s the newest crew member after all) they try their best to catch her up. But sometimes after a day of sucking at pulling seeds from rotting fruits, you can’t catch up until you catch a few drinks, amirite, Arti? Going to a dive bar alone in a seedy space bench sounds exactly like the kind of trouble that she finds there, but one of my favorite things about her is that she leans hard into it, stands her ground even when it’s not the smartest thing to do. I wouldn’t be able to stand by and listen to what those sickos were saying, either, so I applaud her trying to put them in their place... even if it got her put in a not so great place, too. The interaction when Ezra shows up is so beautiful and genuine and really shows how much he cares for her not only as a part of their crew but as a person. I adore him, that’s no secret, but I adore him a little more every time he shows this side of himself. And Cee’s motivation for them showing up when they did had me snorting. She’s great. All three of them are great and I love them to the green moon and back again.

Want To? by @dieterbravospr

Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

WC - 3.5k

I have been meaning to get into Irredeemable for a while now, so when I found this prequel one shot I thought well isn’t this the perfect place to start... even if it was written after the series got rolling. And I was right. This glimpse of Dieter is definitely in line with the way he portrays himself in canon. A little cold. No time for anything but what he wants. Thinking about ways to escape or score his next high whether its from drugs or adrenaline or both. But he’s not an outright bastard. He’s got rules and he sticks to them, even if he has no regard for other peoples’ rules. (like sleeping with married women.) I sort of get the feeling that he didn’t necessarily bite off more than he could chew here with Reader... more like he thought he was biting into kraft mac and cheese but instead it was lobster ravioli. Their little deal is very interesting and I am very much looking forward to seeing how it unfolds for them next time. And bless Reader’s assistant. Bless Dieter’s while we’re at it, they are going to need all the help they can get, I think.

#three great things i read this week #fic recs #writer wednesday #writers supporting writers #ezra (prospect) x reader #dieter bravo x reader #imtryingmybeskar #insomniamamma #dieterbravospr

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juletheghoul · 3 years

Text

Mysticus Chapter 1

Ezra x F!Reader Soulmates AU

I've had this idea bouncing around in my head for a while and after reading all of the AWESOME writing on this website and with some really lovely encouragement from some of my favourite people here I've decided to give it a go. Always open to constructive criticism!

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader

Word Count: 1649K

Warnings: Language, tension? (Smut later on)

Literally my first fic, willing to tag if that's something you'd like!

Masterlist Chapter 2

“Stay away from Thomas”

The words were out of your mouth before your brain had a chance to stop you. Fuck. The girl you whose palm you held in your hands frowned.

“My date? Why?”

How. How did you always manage to shove your foot in it? You had been doing so well! A steady trickle of patrons to your admittedly shabby little stand. Okay, table with a glittery table cloth and a couple of folding chairs but nevermind that.

“Uhhh, yeah. I’m not sure why but I’m getting a really bad vibe. Is this your first date with him? Where is he?” You asked. You could feel the fear creeping in, like a drop of ice cold water that slides down your spine.

“It’s our first date, he’s grabbing us some food.” She responded, brow furrowed slightly, you could see she was having doubts about her safety.

“What kind of vibe are you getting?” The fact that she didn’t laugh you off right away let you know that she most likely wasn’t as comfortable as she should be on a date.

Your dog looked up at you from her place on the floor, seemingly interested in how you were going to explain yourself.

“Look, I don’t really know what to say I just feel like you should get away as fast as possible. I think you know what I mean, and I think you felt a little weird before you sat down.” You say plainly. You had broke your only rule. No bad news. You could feel her fear now, a wave of anxiety washing over the both of you all at once. In the corner of your peripheral you could see a handsome young man walking towards the both of you with food in both hands. Nothing particularly scary about him but you could feel the hackles raising on your normally silent dog. A low growl came from her direction and you put your hand on her head to calm her.

“There you a-“ he started but before he could say anything else the girl was up, dropping money on your table and hastily making a phone call.

“Sorry Thomas – my mom just called, there’s been an emergency and she’s on her way.”

He frowned. “I can drop you off-“

“No need, thanks for everything and hopefully we can do this again” she quickly called over her shoulder and then she was off.

He stood there for a few minutes dumbstruck. Then you saw something. A glint in his eye maybe? A trick of the lights flashing either from the rides or the games on the either side of your pathetic ‘booth’ and then it was gone. When he seemed to realize that you were sitting there, he gave you a smile and walked away. You shivered and noticed your dog was up and ready to pounce.

“It’s okay girl we’re good.” You reassured her and she once again took her place at your feet, but you noticed that she followed him with her eyes until he was out of sight. Fuck you really needed to work on thinking about what you said before you said it. At least she listened instead of telling you to fuck off, little victories.

“What do you say girl, think it’s time to go?” The dogs ears perked up as you scratched behind one, she responded by standing, her signal for yes. You grabbed the box you had stashed under the little table and started putting your makeshift booth away. The sign which read palm readings $5, the table cloth and the can with your earnings for the night. Slipping the end of the dogs leash around your wrist you folded up the table and chairs and stacked everything neatly and made your way to your Jeep. Tomorrow will be better.

Next day

Carnivals had always freaked you out. A lot of places that were supposed to be fun and whimsical freaked you out. You weren’t entirely sure what it was about these places but it made your skin crawl. The music playing gave you the creeps, the smiles of the people around you seemed wild rather than happy. There was a feeling of something bigger underneath it all, something hungry. Predatory. Patient.

It was a last resort in order to make some quick money with your palm readings, but it always seemed like you were walking into the jaws of some huge monster when entering the grounds.

The dog made you feel better. You had found her in a shelter a couple of years ago and had instantly bonded with her. The staff had told you that she’d been in there for a while since she was notoriously unfriendly but she seemed to tolerate you. You suited each other. What they took as unfriendly, you understood as selective, which was fine. You were selective too. You’d had to make a little sign saying please do not pet the dog but it was a small price to pay for her companionship. She - much like you - was an excellent judge of character.

You spotted a group of teenage girls eyeing your booth, and you perked up. Tried to turn on the charm as it were, usually teenage girls were your best customers. You were usually really good with them and these girls were just what you needed to reach your goal for the night. You smiled along and told them just what they wanted to hear, and seeing them walk away giggling with a spring in their step made you happy. That and the cash you were putting into your coffee can.

Just then you felt it. Something prickling at your skin, like static before a rainstorm. Blood rushed to your ears and it seemed like everything was somehow louder. Something in the pit of your stomach was roiling and you were afraid you might throw up when someone approached your table.

He smiled an easy smile but it held something in it, something that said he knew something secret and you weren’t in on it. You weren’t sure if it intrigued you or scared you. You looked over expecting the dog to growl but she was calm, sitting quietly by your feet. Okay. Weird. She usually didn’t like anyone except you and the occasional small child. She usually hated men in fact but no reaction. It was throwing you off a bit if you were honest but all of a sudden he was speaking to you and you felt like you could barely focus.

“Well birdie, seems like you’ve utterly captured my attention and I simply must know what knowledge you can ascertain from my palm.” He smiled and sat down.

You blinked. What the hell was going? Why did your skin feel feverish? Why wasn’t the dog freaking out like she usually did? Why aren’t you answering?

He patiently waited with his palm upturned and you tried to get your shit together as you slowly reached over and took his hand. He was handsome sure, but never had you been rendered so speechless by anyone before. His rich brown eyes bore into you as you traced the lines in his hand.

“You’re going to meet the love of your life.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Now that’s interesting, I don’t suppose you’d be able to go into specifics about how or when this fateful meeting is to occur?”

You watched his mouth as he spoke, and he noticed. Curling it into the same secret smile from earlier and you felt the blood rushing to your face. His eyes crinkled when his smile deepened it took everything in you not to smile back at him.

You noticed the blonde birthmark and for a moment you had the wild urge to run your fingers through it. You quickly suppressed that while clearing your throat.

“I don’t have a time and date for you but it’ll be real soon.” You looked back down at his palm and noticed something. There was a little mark. Nothing crazy but aside from yourself, you’d never met anyone else with the same mark on their palm. You tried very hard to keep your breathing in check.

“Is this a scar?” You asked as casually as you could manage.

“That particular mark as afflicted me since birth, curious is it not?” He asked with a tilt of his head. His drawl a little more pronounced. Is it getting hotter?

“Somewhat-“

“Has anyone ever had the privilege of reading the no doubt fantastic future in your palm birdie?”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that” you responded focusing on the pet name he’d given you.

“It suits you, I ask again- has anyone ever been fortunate enough to read your palm?”

“No.” You responded flatly, reluctantly releasing his hand and sitting back in your chair. He stated back at you and it felt as though he was looking through you, you felt curiously naked.

“As enchanted as I am basking in your presence, I unfortunately must depart. Will you be offering your palmistry services tomorrow night? I should like to see you again birdie.”

“Uhh.. yes, I’ll be back tomorrow.” You’re not even sure why you said that, you were planning on leaving town tonight.

“Wonderful, until we meet again birdie.” He rose smiling, he took your hand in his and pressed a light kiss to it. You stared up at him in shock, your skin prickling where his lips brushed it.

He smiled down at your dog and before you could even think to warn him he reached down and scratched behind her ear. Your jaw dropped as she happily licked his palm while he murmured something into her ear before promptly rising to his feet and striding off into the crowd.

You stared after him long after with the same dumbstruck look on your face. Who the hell was that?

-----------------------------------------

Tag list: @foli-vora @frannyzooey thanks for being patient with me ladies, this ones for y'all <3 @freak-nasty-thick-dick-mando

#ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra x female reader #soulmates au #prospect ezra #ezra from prospect #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #ezra (prospect) x reader #ezra (prospect) x f!reader #ezra (prospect) x you #pedro pascal x reader #prospect #prospect fic

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 3 years

Note

You know that I'm soft for Ezra, like always. Sooo I was thinking I could request him! Maybe something with the prompt "Yell at me again, and I'll give you a real reason to scream" Take that however you want. I love you, sweet girl, it's always fun to see my bestie create

A/N: Anything for you my love.

Pairing: Ezra x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + Only for rough sex, language, mentions of pregnancy, and angst. But a happy ending, I promise.

*************************

“You promised! You fucking promised Ezra!” Angry tears stream down your cheeks, and you try your best to breathe through them. “This last job was going to be it, no more prospecting! We could start a family, have a life! But instead, you took another stint on the Green!”

He’s as angry as you are, his nostrils flaring, “I promise, Little Bird, we will be swimming in riches when I return! We are going after the Queen of all aurlec deposits! I’ve worked my whole life; I need to finish this!”

“You will never be satisfied,” you turn away from him, your voice hollow, “I will never be enough.”

“Birdie, listen to me! I’m doing this for us,” he follows close behind, “why can’t you see that.”

You slap your hands on the kitchen counter and turn with a glare, “this is not about us! This is about you! Chasing some stupid fable, there is no Queen’s nest, or someone would have found it by now. Why can’t you see?! I just want you to be home, stay with me, please.”

You step towards him, putting both hands on his cheeks and keeping his eyes on you. He sighs and closes his eyes, hands coming to wrap around your wrists. “Birdie, I’m going to the Green.”

When he opens them, his eyes harden, watching you take a step back, hands retreating from his face. Your lip quivers, and you bite down, “then I can’t promise I’ll be here when you get back.”

He takes a step towards you, and you take a step back. Him advancing on you until your back hits the wall, he leans down close, his breath warm on your cheek, “so that’s it?” His nose grazes your cheek, “you’re going to tarnish our whole life together; leave me, a man without a Queen.”

“You’re making me do this,” you whisper, turning away from him. His lips are pressing softly to your cheek, and you bite down hard on your lip to prevent the whimper. “You left me first.”

“But I’m coming back, coming home to you,” he groans, pressing his lips to your neck. His hand pressing into the wall as he leans in closer, “you’re leaving me and not coming back. Or did I misunderstand that, Birdie?”

You push on his chest and step away from him, “fuck you, you will not make me feel bad when YOU are the one leaving.” He tries to retake a step towards you, but you hold out your hand, “No! I will not let you convince me otherwise! I’m leaving you, Ezra; I’ve had enough!”

He growls, “yell at me again, Birdie, and I’ll give you a real reason to scream.”

“Oh yeah?” You take a step towards him, pressing a finger to his chest, “what are you going to do?”

“This,” he closes the space between you, slanting his mouth over yours. It’s not a gentle kiss between lovers but a kiss out of passion and anger, a mesh of tongues and teeth. You gasp when he slams your back against the wall, and he rucks up your dress; you moan low when he dips his fingers down your panties to find you soaked. “I always knew you had a thing for quarreling Birdie; let me make you feel good.”

All you can do is nod, allowing Ezra to take the lead and give your pleasure. His fingers are skilled as he circles your clit, his tongue dipping between your lips to taste you with a quiet groan. You’ve always been a quiet lover, Ezra making enough noise for the both of you. “Cum for me, Birdie, sing for me,” he mumbles, biting down on your shoulder hard enough to leave a mark.

You tighten around his fingers that he dips into your cunt and let out a gasp. He keeps your right leg wrapped around his waist, the left on the floor for balance, and he quickly shifts down to unbutton his pants. His mouth fused to your own as he swallows your sighs of pleasure. When he notches his cock at your entrance, you only have a moment before he’s snapping his hips inside you to the hilt.

It’s quick and dirty, nothing like the languid lovemaking he usually offers. No, this is an act of passion, desperation, and fear. You can almost feel his fear, drowning the two of you in the unknown of what’s to come. And when you flutter around him with a whimper, cumming on his cock, and him cumming deep inside you, the two of you are silent.

He stays there for a moment longer, your leg beginning to cramp from being held up for so long. “Ezra, I need-“ but he already knows. Slowly he lowers you back down to the floor, his hands on your hips, lips on your forehead. He presses them together, taking deep, shuddering breaths.

The tears fall down his face and sit on his cheeks like fresh spring rain. “What-“

“Please,” his voice cracks, “please don’t leave me. I need you, Birdie. I know I fractured your trust by accepting this job, but I mean it, after this one, I am done—no more prospecting. We will move onto one of those smaller moons and live by the sea in a house we own, raise a couple of cubs. Just please, please don’t leave me.”

“You are a fool, Ezra,” you whisper, his head rising, his eyes meeting yours, the question on his lips. “I may be upset with you, but I’d never leave you. I love you too damn much. Even when you piss me off.”

“You promise to be here when I get back?”

“I promise. Just make sure you come back.”

**************

Ezra stands outside the door, his feet shifting nervously back and forth. It was excruciating on his body to walk up the fifteen flights of stairs to reach the door of his former home. But he didn’t have the guts to use the elevator; he needed time to think.

A million thoughts run through his head. He was supposed to be gone six months; it’d been two years. Did you wait? Or did you realize he’d befallen a terrible fate and moved on?” His heart pounds, and he feels like he’s going to vomit when he raises his left hand to the door.

He knocks three times and waits, and waits, and waits. The blood fills his ears, and his heart shatters; every moment on that god-forsaken moon, he’d dreamt of you, thought of you, and you were gone. Nothing more than a memory.

“Are you looking for the girl?” Ezra turns to the older man coming out of the lift.

“Yes,” he stutters, “do you know where she is?”

“She and that boy are off, something about going to the park,” he tosses his hands forward, “she’s always out with him somewhere.”

Ezra can’t breathe, so you did move on without him; he needs to see. “Which park?”

*******

The sun is bright today, one of the few warm days that befell this planet. You’d always wanted to move somewhere like this every day, near the ocean. He was going to give you that, everything and more.

He’s not sure what he’s going to find in this park, but he continues to walk around. He passes lovers in a warm embrace, older men playing holo-chess, and children running in the distance, climbing onto one of the giant metal playgrounds.

That’s when he sees you, and he falls in love all over again.

**************

You turn your head; your body stiffens as you search the sea of faces. Your skin hasn’t prickled like this since he left.

He’s dead now.

Two years in the Green with no communication, everyone told you, you were a fool for staying here. A fool. That’s what you’d called him that night when you promised him you’d stay and wait for him and a fool you were.

You drop your head and feel the burn of tears. The feeling of being watched burns, but you ignore it. You’re not alone anymore; you smile as your son toddles over to you, his hands grabby towards your legs. Fuck, he looked just like his daddy.

A distinctive nose, warm brown eyes, and hair with just a tussle of blonde in the front. You didn’t realize it was genetic as if you had any doubt who the baby’s father was. Three months after he��d gone, you found out you were pregnant, and you tried to get ahold of him. Even trying to buy passage on a ship to the Green moon yourself, but no one would take you, especially someone in your condition.

So you waited, like a fool.

“Hello, love,” you coo, reaching for him and tucking him close. The sweet scent of baby oil and lavender lotion clinging to his skin. “Do you wanna get going home? I’m going to make us some macaroni and cheese for dinner.”

“Mac, Mac, Mac,” he chants with a toothy grin.

“Let’s go home then,” you hoist him higher on your shoulder and lean down to grab the diaper bag, but another hand shoots out first. You slowly raise your eyes and almost drop the baby as you gasp. “Ezra?”

“Hello, Birdie,” he mumbles out the words, never breaking his eyes from yours.

“Burd, burd, burd,” your son repeats, and Ezra's eyes shift to him.

“Is this?” His throat catches, struggling for air, “Is this, my son?” He swallows down his sobs, the relief of finally having you so close and finding out the boy you’re always with is not another man but his son.

You let out a watery giggle, “you can’t tell.”

He laughs, his tears flowing freely down his cheeks, “oh Birdie, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t here for you.”

You take a step towards him, reaching a hand out for his cheek, “but you are here now, hell, you’ve always been here. Where have you been? I have so many questions.”

“And I will answer all of them, but first, please let me kiss you, Little Bird because I have dreamt of nothing but your lips for two years.” You smile, the salt of your tears in your mouth, as you sniffle.

You put down the baby and reach for him, “I’ve dreamt of you too, Ezra.” His lips finally touch yours, tears and sobs escape your chest as you hold one another for the first time in two years. “I love you,” you sigh, “so fucking much, Ezra, I never stopped. I kept my promise; I never left.”

@lunarthoughts @jedi-mando @idreamofboobear @aerolanya @rebelliouscat @darklingveracruz @marvelprincess1994 @thirstworldproblemss @spacelatinoss @martellthemandalor @kesskirata @waatermelon-sugaar @jitterbugs927 @helga1031 @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @oldstuffnewstuff @yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anetteaneta @aellynera @lucifer- @houseofthirst @phoenixhalliwell @chicken-ona-stick @agirllovespancakes @ghostwiththemostbitch @the-purity-pen @paintballkid711 @wasicskosgirl @fantasticcopeaglepasta @sarahjkl82-blog @boxdyeblonde @rosiefridayrogersunday @yeah-seems-legit @mimimi-stuff @ladyblogger-margie @memyselfandellasworld @peterhollandkait @itspdameronthings @emmy626 @luv-nd-serenity @randomness501 @littlebopper96 @alexmarie29 @hell-is-my-second-home666 @thisshipwillsail316 @madslorian @no-droids-on-sunday @glixxr @sfr99 @pedro-pastel @we-can-be-himbos @sleep-tight1 @sarhabee @its--fandom--darling @im-an-adult-ish @princess76179 @demoncrypt1066 @the-dendrophile-bookworm @amneris21 @deliciouslydisturbed365 @princessxkenobi @Kirstg42 @ew-erin @maievdenoir @withakindheartx

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@theatricalbride @daffodin @xjustmenobodyelse @seasonschange-butpeopledont @blufanfictionthings @queenbbarnes @elisabethbathgate @mandorush @marvelousmermaid

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butcherknives · 4 years

Note

As you well know, I have Dante brainrot™ 😔🤚 and I often think about stargazing with him, finding somewhere peaceful and just talking about what we want our future to look like or smth like that 🥺 so I was wondering if you could write something where the reader gets to have a conversation like that with him? Like what Dante wants too, etc. If not, that's totally fine!

I love this idea and I’m happy to oblige, Ezra. Here’s some fluff for you in dedication to your love of Dante, and soft in honor of Valentine’s Day.

So, happy Valentine’s Day! I hope this gives you some dokis.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 700 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: longterm S/O, fluff

𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖌𝖆𝖟𝖎𝖓𝖌

> GN!Reader x Dante

Peace conventionally comes in fleeting moments.

Shoulder to shoulder on the flat roof of Devil May Cry beneath the velvet sky, you connect a familiar line of stars with your fingertip. You trace the angle, coasting through the evening air as Dante follows the shape you build from memory.

“You see?” you’re saying on the wings of a whisper. “There’s the Little Dipper.”

He hums his acknowledgement and you turn your head to admire the languid smile he wears. His hair is splayed against the concrete in a wintry halo and he’s handsome, always, when his moonlit stare shifts toward you. “Devil Hunter by day, astronomer by night. And here, I never knew.”

Despite yourself, you laugh. “I know a thing or two.” And although the light pollution separates galaxies in a sea of vast ebony, you can still pick out several constellations in the freckling stardust. “Like there?” You point. “That’s Orion’s belt.” Dante huffs a feathered laugh and you can feel his gaze in the prickle of your skin. “What?”

“I’m just impressed,” he says and you feel your own smile curl across your lips. “I gotta admit, pretty as they are, I don’t take a lot of time out to look at the stars.” Your eyes meet. “But... now I’m starting to think I should.”

His words fill warmth in the spaces of your chest. “We could do this more often, if you’re interested.”

There’s a gleam in his eyes that you don’t miss. A spark of something – of joy, perhaps, or affection while he ruminates in the comfortable silence. And as the seconds tick by, you wonder what he must be envisioning.

He reaches for you, his hand settling atop yours. “Anything with you,” he says, “has my interest.”

You lick your lips and look away to hide the blush blooming across your cheeks. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And then what?”

He turns onto his side and props his elbow on the surface, head pillowed in his palm. “Is this the part where you send a winky face?”

Your eyes widen before you laugh. “No, that’s not what I mean.” Mirth is a glimmer in his eyes when you peek at him behind your lashes. “What I mean is: what do you think tomorrow will look like?” This has him raising a brow. You’re quick to elaborate. “For us. Together.” You turn back to the stars, settling on a twinkling planet shifting kaleidoscope white and yellow and red. “I imagine us still doing this years down the road. You and me... maybe somewhere nice? We’d be laying out beneath the same night sky, making up our own constellations.”

You can hear him inhale a long, steadying breath and you turn to see him, to examine as he considers. “Somewhere nice, huh?”

“Yeah, like maybe a vacation? Somewhere we could see the entire universe without the city to block the view. A quiet, lazy place?”

“Perfect for us,” he muses with a slow grin.

“Would that be okay?”

He regards you with a careful, concealed expression and you know in your heart that he loves you, but you are privy – although he’d rather you weren’t – to his reservations. To the deeply rooted fear of loss, and the unaddressed uncertainty toward lasting romance. What it would mean; how it could impact his work? Or even, perhaps, if it might one day be used against him?

You know this.

You know this and yet he smiles, sliding his palm along your waist to gather you to his chest. “That sounds amazing.” And buried there, nestled beside his heart, you sink into his fire. “I can think of a few places you might like.”

“You’ll take me there?”

He kisses your crown. “As many times as you want.”

The lull is filled with his steady heartbeat. He’s winding both arms around you, shifting to rest on his shoulder, and you hum your content.

“You wanna know what I know about astronomy?”

You tilt your head up, curious, and watch the way his smile blossoms into a Casanova grin.

“That up there?” He gestures with his chin.

“Yeah?”

His eyes crinkle. “That’s the moon.”

#devil may cry #dante #reader x dante #dmc dante #sanguinettii #I hope this is what you were looking for my friend #please enjoy!#and happy v day #fulfilled requests #all purpose writing tag

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bittercoldbrew · 4 years

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Okay, so technically To Build Something New is complete and finished and I’m totally not even supposed to be working on it anymore, but this has been a shitty week and I decided to write a little something sweet and then I sort of got....carried away........ So yeah anyway, here’s a little over 4k of Ezra x f!OC, a sorta kinda epilogue to Build Something but I tried to leave things vague so it could also just be read as a standalone. No warnings, just an embarrassing amount of fluff. Enjoy! (pssst, also, I ended up writing a follow-up to this, which you can find here)

Sleep has never come easily to him. Even as a child, Ezra remembers being plagued with nightmares so often and for so long that he wouldn’t even bother waking his worn and weary parents, would simply fetch himself a cup of water from the kitchen and flip through his favorite books, gazing at the pictures and tracing fingers over words he couldn’t yet read, until sleep finally returned to him.

The woman in bed beside him is no stranger to such restlessness, and certainly is no distant, frightful parent best left unbothered. If he were to reach out a hand to her shoulder, if he were to call her name, he knows that she would wake willingly, eager to help him talk his way out of whatever trouble his overactive mind has conjured, or to simply sit with him in silence until the tension passed; she would give him whatever he needs, even if he himself doesn't know what that is just yet. It is no lack of love, given or received, that stills his hand and shuts his mouth, but rather an abundance.

Her thoughts are scarcely any kinder to her sleep schedule than his, and these past few months since her parents came and tried to upend the life she's built have not been easy ones. She certainly owes as profound a debt to the god of sleep as he does, and he simply cannot bring himself to disturb her now that she's begun to repay it.

With a sigh, he eases himself out from under her arm and up from the bed, moving slow and careful, as quiet as he can manage, trying not to feel too guilty at the sad, soft noise she makes and the way she curls her arm back into herself with the loss. Some nights, he’s more than content to lay awake beside her even if sleep never decides to make another appearance, grateful for her presence, trying and failing, always, to twist and turn his thoughts into a shape that will allow him to believe this luck that has brought him to her side. But tonight he just needs...to stretch his legs, to move his body, to remind himself that it is, still, somehow, his body, despite all that it has lost. Despite all that it has found.

He moves to the bathroom, passes through it out into the hall, hoping the added distance will prevent the sound of the door from waking the woman asleep in the bed they share. In the darkness, in the quiet, he runs a hand over his face, grounding himself with the familiar sensation of the planes and slopes of his own features. Still his face. Still his hand, even if he only has the one of them, now.

It seems instinctual, the way his feet carry him to the door across the hall, the way his ear finds itself pressed to the cool wood. He won’t bother her, won’t risk disturbing the sleep of the teenager inside, but the low whisper of the white noise machine that he can hear is enough of a comfort. Cee adjusted to planet life far faster and more completely than he has yet to manage; but even though the members of this little family all came from such disparate backgrounds, they are bound together by the act of having chosen one another, as well as by their shared insomnolent tendencies. The teenager needs this facsimile of the rumble of a ship’s engines to be able to achieve anything like sleep. Ezra himself has attempted the same, but found the noise only gave his brain something to latch onto, a reason to stay wakeful and wary, a stark contrast to its intended purpose.

Hearing hers, though, is reassurance enough that the girl is having a better night’s rest than he is, and he is grateful for that small blessing as he leans away from the door and sidles down the hallway on quiet, bare feet, mindful of all the places that creak, mapped out in his muscle memory over the course of many such nights. He crosses the front room, passes through the kitchen, until finally he steps out onto the back porch and into the cold, clear night.

The sky out here, so far from the city center, is resplendent in its beauty, a breathtaking array of stars and galaxies. Despite his many far-flung travels, there are still so many worlds to visit, still so much to see, and he will never grow weary of the sight.

It's a little too cold for stargazing, especially dressed as he is in nothing more than a patched and faded pair of boxers; but the way the air prickles against his skin and in his lungs feels almost refreshing, for now at least. It makes his racing thoughts feel sluggish, and that is certainly worth a little chill.

Sighing, he steps forward and leans against the railing, letting his eyes trace out distant constellations and star systems, scrolling through his mental catalogue of those he's visited and those he has yet to. He's picking out the faint whorl of the Ephrate when he hears the door slide open, and a sweet and sleepy voice asks, "Ezra..?"

He should have known his absence would be enough to wake her. The woman he loves is the galaxy’s most notorious blanket thief, after all; even now, the evidence of her crimes is wrapped around her like a cloak, the excess fabric bunched in her hands and clutched against her collar. Often, it’s only the warmth of his body in the bed beside her that keeps her from descending into wanton lawlessness—or, at the very least, a sleeplessness of her own. It is a rare night indeed that he can leave her side for much longer than it takes to visit the bathroom and return, before the chill is enough to wake her.

She steps forward, head down, eyes scarcely open and only to keep herself from tripping over the blanket as she draws near and leans her body heavily against his. He wraps his arm around her back and does his best to hug her close with only the one, trying not to feel so profoundly guilty at the thought of how difficult it must be for her to sleep when he’s gone so long for work.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into her hair—an apology for tonight, and also for all those nights she spends without him.

But she only shakes her head, resting her cheek against his bare chest, just below his collarbone. She stands so tall and imperious in his mind’s eye that he forgets, sometimes, how little she is, and he is grateful for moments like these to remind him.

Her voice is thick with sleep, her breath warm against his skin, as she asks, simply, “Chocolate?”

He sighs and holds her closer, wondering if he knows a single word that might be able to encapsulate how it feels to be loved by her. Beloved feels too pedestrian, too obvious. Cherished, maybe. Harbored.

He needs to consider the possibilities more carefully, but later. For now, he merely shakes his head, begrudgingly declining her generous offer. “No, I’m alright. Just needed a minute, clear my head.”

She hums softly, and the gentle vibration of it against his chest feels planet-shaking in this quiet night. “Already put it on,” she admits slowly, sounding only marginally more awake than a moment ago. “Drink some anyway?”

Sustained? Is that the word? “With you? Of course.”

The wordless noise she makes in response is pleased, contented, and for several long, precious moments she merely rests against him and lets him hold her in the dark, unhurried and unafraid in his presence.

She’s so still for so long that he notices the slight movement of her cheek, the twitch that means she’s had to blink away a notification from her optical implant, the timer she must have set for the milk warming on the stove.

“I’ll get it—” he starts to offer, eager for some way to repay her kindness, but she moves quicker than he imagined she’d be capable of right now, pulling away and whirling the blanket off her shoulders and around his with a flourish.

“No,” she declares, in that tone of voice that always makes his brain go silent and his body stand to attention, willing to do whatever she requires of him without question. But the only order she gives is, “Keep this warm for me,” passing the corners of the fabric into his grasp, and he is certain to obey as she turns and heads back inside to the kitchen.

With a sigh, Ezra takes a step back and rests against the wall of the house, hiking the blanket up a little higher as he waits for her return. He finds himself wishing Aphelia had a moon, something to make the nights a little brighter than this; the lack gives them such a clear, glorious view of all the stars and a few of the other planets in this system, so he supposes he shouldn’t complain. But it would be nice to be able to see the garden from here, to make out what birds those are calling such sweet songs among the trees at the edge of the property, to better decipher the nuance of his partner’s expression when she steps back outside a few minutes later with two mugs of cocoa in her hands.

It requires a good deal of shuffling and muttered apologies, but eventually they find themselves sitting together on the floor of the porch, propped against the wall, the blanket drawn across them both, sheltering them from the chill of metal sheeting at their backs. She is nestled at his side beneath what remains of his right arm, and she rests her head on his shoulder as they both lift mugs to their lips.

He makes an indisputably better cup of coffee—mainly because she is too impatient in the morning, content to throw a packet of bland, dehydrated nonsense into hot water if it means she can be caffeinated quicker, only willing to wait for something better if it’s Ezra who does the brewing. But her hot chocolate is a wonder, a marvel, worthy of all possible veneration, and even though he’s watched her make it time and time again, he has never managed to determine what it is she does to make it so spectacular. The beverage in his hand tonight is perfectly warm, nutty and aromatic, decadent and sweet without being cloying, with just a hint of spice. One sip, and he can feel whatever this restlessness is that’s been holding him in its vice begin to ebb away into a gentle sleepiness.

“Thank you, starlight,” he sighs, and he hopes she knows that he means all of it—not just for the chocolate, but for the blanket and the company and the understanding, for her willingness to love him with this love that encompasses all of his very many faults rather than existing in spite of them.

She doesn’t say anything in response, simply turns her head and presses a feather-light kiss to the side of his neck, and he feels certain that she does know. Especially when she turns back, and gestures with her mug in the direction of the sky. “It’s a hell of a view. Thanks for not letting me miss it.”

His breath leaves him in a rush, and he rests his cheek against the top of her head, feeling bowled over by his affection for her. That hadn’t remotely been his intention, and even if he had merely wanted her to see the stars, she could get just as lovely a view from bed, through the skylight, without having to shiver out here on the cold floor with him. But he loves that she would offer this pretense, that she would look at something he’d done to stave off his idiotic insomnia and turn it into an experience for the two of them to share.

Transformed, perhaps, is what her love makes him. Because he isn’t entirely sure who this man is that he’s become, or where all this sappiness came from. He certainly had no need for it on the Green, nor in any part of his life before he first answered the siren song of aurelac.

If he’s honest with himself, though, he’d begun to see the first signs of it before he even met her, before he endured the loss of his dominant arm and thus found himself needing to rely, from time to time, upon the kindness of others. He’d noticed it in his unwillingness to leave Number Two behind after the rest of the crew split and ran; and then again when he’d first met Cee, when she’d used up the single capacitor of that old Boscelot rifle and he, who had killed so very many times before, had been wholly unable to throw a shot her way.

His lover had seen right through him from the first, had detected those loose threads in his psyche, those barest hints of a gentleness he’d long stifled. She had tugged and pulled them loose, had unraveled the cold and unfeeling shell that he constructed around himself, until all that was left was just...him. Minus an arm, and a good portion of his dignity, and any belief he’d once had in his ability to command his own fate.

And she had looked at whatever was leftover after all that loss, and had chosen to love him anyway.

“Oh, look,” she gasps, and he straightens up and follows her gaze, finding the trail of light streaking up from the horizon, a distant ship clearing the atmosphere.

“Leaving from the 12th Sector docks, I reckon,” he tells her absently, his brain automatically calculating the distance and direction for him while he simply takes a long draught of his quickly-cooling cocoa. “Where d’you think they’re headed?”

She hums thoughtfully, brow creasing in thought, her eyes tracing the arc of their ascent and extending upward. He’s been trying to teach her and the kid—trying to not be a pedantic asshole about it—how to find landmarks in the night sky, how to navigate by constellations and planets and stations. Mostly, he’s just trying to teach them how to keep themselves safe if, Kevva forbid, he ever isn’t around to do the job. Not that he thinks them lacking in competence—each of his girls is cleverer than him by half, he knows that, and together they leave him in the dust. But this, at least, is a skill of his that they do not share, and he hopes to impart a little something of it, just in case they ever need it.

“From 12, at that angle, this late in the year...” she says slowly, thinking aloud. “I bet they’re headed for the Pug.”

“I bet you’re right,” he agrees, grinning. “Do you see it?”

She narrows her eyes, an adorable little pout to her lips as she looks for it; her natural eye’s a little farsighted, but her implant is designed for close work and magnification, and he knows that discrepancy means this sort of thing doesn’t come easy for her. But that just makes it all the sweeter, when she gasps and smiles and points and says, “There it is.”

He just sits there, staring at her and the way the starlight dances in her eyes and highlights the lines of her face, for so long that she turns to him with a curious—and then bashful—look on her face.

“Hey,” she scolds, nudging him with her elbow. “Tell me I’m right.”

“You’re right,” he says automatically, and she scoffs and elbows him again. With a laugh, he tears his gaze from her and turns to look. “Sorry, sorry. Show me again?”

She does so, and he leans in close, following the line of her arm and her outstretched finger to the familiar, pulsing glow of Puggart’s Bench. “There?”

He dips his head, presses a kiss to the skin of her arm, just past the end of the short sleeve of her sleep shirt (one of his shirts, initially, though at this point she doesn’t sleep in anything else and he’d be offended if she did). “Perfect,” he tells her—because she’s correct, yes, but also because she is perfect, in his estimation.

She smiles in a way that makes him think she understands his double meaning, and says, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says, and kisses her, and her mouth tastes like chocolate, and he doesn’t imagine there’s anything better in all the universe.

But then she lifts a hand to curl along his jaw and the tips of her fingers are like ice, and he pulls back in surprise and sets his mug carefully aside so he can grab her hand and hold it in front of his mouth and breathe a little heat against her fingers.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were freezing, baby?”

"I'm not," she argues, even as she curls closer into the warmth of his body and tugs the blanket tighter around her shoulders, because she is, at her core, a woman of unmitigated stubbornness. "My hands are just always cold."

"Not this cold," he huffs, clenching the offending fingers in his own. "We should get you inside."

She shakes her head sternly. "I can stay out here as long as you want me to."

She has told him this before, way back when they scarcely even knew each other. Then, as now, she had been struggling to keep her eyes open. Then, as now, he had known she meant every word.

"What I want," he tells her, turning to kiss her temple, speaking the words into her skin, "is to hold you in bed for a while."

If he's honest, that's all he ever seems to want these days.

She smiles, and nods toward his mug, reaching for her own. "Finish your cocoa, first," she says, as though that is the entire reason they're out here.

And he does—because it's delicious and he doesn't want to waste it; because it's what she told him to do.

He would give her his left arm, the only one he has remaining, if she told him to.

They sit there, quiet and close, while he finishes his drink and waits patiently as she finishes hers. Then, leaning on each other for support, they make their way to their feet and back inside the house. He keeps the blanket around his body as she rinses their empty mugs and leaves them in the sink, then trails along behind her as she leads him back to their room.

Together they spread the blanket back overtop of the bed, tucking it in at the foot even though they both know she’ll have managed to drag it to her side by morning. Smiling at the thought, Ezra pulls up the covers and gets in, instinctively turning over on his right to reach for her—but she isn’t there yet, still standing next to the bed, watching him. It’s too dark to really make out her expression, but he can feel her eyes on him. “Baby?”

She doesn’t speak, just goes and walks around the bed. He turns, twisting at the waist to watch her as she lifts up the covers and...slips in behind him. She puts her arm around his chest, twines her legs with his, moves her free hand up to bury her fingers in his hair and scritch lightly against his scalp, and he groans out her name and all but melts back into her soft body.

“Is this okay?” she asks after a moment, her breath fanning against the back of his neck. He wants to answer, to tell her this is so, so much better than merely okay, but his chest has gone so tight that all the air in his lungs seems to have lodged in his throat instead. He settles for a nod, the drag of her short fingernails on the back of his head just delicious with the movement, and he knows she must be tired and will need to be asleep soon but he wishes she never had to stop.

“I know you said you wanted to hold me,” she murmurs, her voice so soft and sweet, “but I thought this might be...nice.”

“I...” he starts—or tries to, but his voice falters, and all the words he typically can rely on appear to have fled him. “Yes,” he sighs simply. “It’s very nice.”

“Good.” Her lips press a delicate kiss to his shoulder, and his breath leaves him with more of a shudder than he’d intended. “You gonna be able to sleep?”

He covers her hand with his and draws it up higher along his chest, where her fingers gently trace the line of scar tissue just below his sternum. “I hope so,” is the best answer he can offer, because even though he feels so fucking good being held by her like this and even though he can feel the exhaustion tugging him even deeper into the mattress, he knows better than to count on his mind to be cooperative.

She hums softly, and he can feel the bridge of her nose and the curve of her forehead against the skin of his back as she presses her face against him, settling in. “Okay,” she breathes, and he can tell she’s nearly asleep again already, can merely hope he’ll join her shortly. “Wake me if you get up again, okay?”

“You have work in the morning,” he reminds her, squeezing her hand, already feeling guilty for disrupting her rest as much as he has. His schedule isn’t nearly so demanding—he could stay in bed all day if he needs to, could make up the hours some other time—but she has people who rely on her, people who aren’t him.

But she just clicks her tongue against her teeth dismissively, shakes her head. Her fingers leave his hair for a dreadful moment, but only so she can reach down and tug the covers up higher (already beginning her nightly larceny, though she’s pressed so close to him that Ezra, too, may get to benefit from it tonight). “I’d rather be tired at work than not know where you are.”

It’s a simple thing to say, but he knows how much she means by it. He’s well aware of the anxieties that plague her, of the way she worries when he’s gone, of how his job and its need to drag him far away from her for long stretches of time wears at her until he’s with her again. As much as he wishes he could make all of that go away, wishes he could offer her a gentler life than this one, he knows such a thing isn’t really possible out here in the Fringe, knows they’ve come much closer than most. Still, at least he can offer her this.

He picks up her hand and lifts it to his lips, presses kisses to her smooth, soft skin. “Go to sleep, starlight. I’m not going anywhere.”

“‘Kay,” she murmurs sleepily, and he can feel her smile against his back as she shifts around, tightening her arm around him, hugging him close. “Love you, Ez.”

“Love you too, sweet girl.”

In the morning, when she wakes, he is going to make her the best goddamn cup of coffee she’s ever tasted. He will swaddle her in blankets, will weight her down with so many of them she can’t ever leave their bed, she’ll have to just stay in it with him forever. He wonders how inappropriate it would be for him to ask Cee if she would spend the night at a friend’s tomorrow, because when this woman gets home from work he’s going to need to lavish every inch of her body with affection, to prove to her again and again and again how desperately he loves her, how thoroughly he needs her, and he doesn’t imagine he’ll be able to be quiet about it even with the kid home.

It’s in these last lucid moments before sleep finally pulls him under that he realizes this night, this moment, this blissful press of her body along the length of his own with her arm curled possessively around his torso is exactly the word he's been looking for. Maybe it really is as simple as that: she makes him feel held.

#listen you will have to pry little spoon ezra from my cold dead hands #someone please give this man a hug #ezra prospect x oc #ezra prospect x reader #oc tess stone #ezra why are you so fucking difficult to write bby #to build something new #my writing

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