#salt raiders smut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

doumadono · 11 months

Text

Warnings: violence, viking!Dabi, viking!Shoto, earl!Endeavor, viking!Natsuo, fem!reader, smut (short & not graphic), viking themes, Shoto is a spoiled brat

Summary: in a Viking world of power, secrets and warriors, a young woman captured during a raid finds herself entangled in the life of Dabi, the enigmatic eldest son of the ruthless earl. As secrets, scars, and desires collide, their unconventional connection unfolds in a tale of love, danger, and destiny

Word count: circa 5.9k

A/N: for a few years, I've held a fascination with Viking themes and their historical era. Recently, I had the idea to place Dabi in such a setting and see where the story would take me. I sat down to write and found myself falling in love with this new narrative instantly. While it might seem trivial to some, it's already become a precious gem to me. I plan to unravel the story over six chapters. I hope you enjoy the first one, and I'm open to all opinions. If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know ♥

MASTERLIST NEXT CHAPTER KVITRAVN - MHA VIKING AU

ACT I - UNMASKING THE SCARS

As the longship glided silently through the dark waters, the moon cast a pale, ethereal glow on the rugged Viking coastline. The scent of salt and adventure filled the night air, and the crew of fierce warriors, led by Dabi, the renegade son of the brutal, ruthless Viking earl, Endeavor, prepared to make landfall.

Dabi, at thirty years of age, bore the marks of a troubled past. Dabi's once-pale skin was now marred by those burns, darkened like a charred log in the heart of a raging fire. His body bore the scars of a fire that had ravaged him in his youth, a cruel gift from his own father, who had attempted to kill him. But it was these very scars that had forged his determination and honed his indomitable spirit. His hair was the color of snow, and his eyes were as blue as the frost-covered sea. He had a reputation as a fierce warrior, known for his ruthless tactics and the way he fought with the fury of a tempest.

The village he came from was a place of cold stone and rough-hewn timbers, where the Viking way of life reigned supreme. The women of the village shied away from Dabi, for his scars marked him as an outcast. He lived a life of solitude, seeking solace in the wild, untamed lands that surrounded their settlement.

Their destination was a small Christian village, nestled among the rolling hills. It had been raided by Dabi's people before, but tonight was different. Tonight, Dabi's heart was restless, and he was inexplicably drawn to the village's fate.

As the Vikings stormed the village, chaos erupted. Houses were set ablaze, and the cries of the villagers filled the night.

The raucous cries of his men filled the air as the village burned and the spoils of their raid were gathered. Dabi stood at the heart of the chaos, an enigmatic figure in the midst of destruction. A faint, unsettling smile tugged at the corners of his lips, hidden beneath the eerie wolf's jaw mask.

He watched with satisfaction as his warriors, his loyal comrades in arms, looted and plundered. The riches of the Christian village flowed into their grasp, their spoils of war. It was a successful trip by Viking standards, a brutal triumph in the unforgiving world they inhabited.

Amidst the smoldering ruins of the Christian village, the Vikings had unleashed their wrath. Blood had been spilled, and the lives of some villagers had been brutally cut short.

But not all of the villagers had met a swift and merciless end. The Vikings, with a calculated eye, had chosen to capture several women and a few men, sparing them from the fate that had befallen their companions. These survivors would serve a different purpose, as slaves in the service of their Viking captors. Among them a young woman. Her hair was the Y/H/C, and her eyes held the innocence of a world untouched by the brutality of the North.

As the raiders dragged the captives away from the charred remains of their homes, the air was heavy with the weight of despair and uncertainty. These men and women, once free, were now prisoners of a world far removed from the peaceful existence they had known. Their lives had taken a harrowing turn, marked by servitude and the harsh reality of Viking conquest.

For Dabi, this decision was not only about power but also about securing the resources and labor needed to sustain their existence in these harsh northern lands. The villagers had been caught in the merciless currents of fate, and their futures were now inexorably tied to the whims of the Viking warriors who had chosen to spare them for their own purposes.

As Dabi inspected the captured men, his gaze swept over the somber group, each face marked by fear and resignation. But then, as if guided by a force beyond his control, his eyes fell upon a young woman. The sight of her took his breath away, and for a moment, he couldn't lie to himself – she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes upon.

Despite the dirt, blood, and tears that marred her face, her beauty shone through like a radiant star in the night sky. Her cheeks bore the scars of anguish, her eyes, streaked with despair, created rivulets in the dust and grime that clung to her skin. Her once-neat clothes, now tattered and dirtied, bore witness to the cruel turn of fate she had endured.

Dabi's heart, which had been hardened by the harshness of Viking life, thudded in his chest with a new and unfamiliar emotion. She was a vision amidst the chaos, and in that moment, he realized that there was something more to her than just her physical beauty. There was a strength in her, a resilience that had allowed her to endure even in the face of such brutality.

As Dabi's eyes locked onto her, a strange and unsettling sensation coursed through him. It was a feeling he couldn't quite comprehend, a magnetic pull that defied all reason. In the midst of the chaos and destruction, this woman, captured from the village, appeared before him like an enigma.

Her hair, now messy, and those defiant eyes held a fierce determination that had not been extinguished by the horrors of the raid. She was a picture of vulnerability and strength intertwined, a paradox that captivated his very soul.

Dabi, who had always been driven by the uncompromising resolve of a Viking warrior, found himself unnerved by the intensity of this attraction. He was a man of few words and even fewer emotions, but her presence stirred something deep within him, a longing he could not explain. He questioned the very nature of his emotions, grappling with the unfamiliar warmth that her presence kindled within him, even though they hadn't spoken.

He couldn't tear his gaze away from her. Every time their eyes met, it felt as if the fates themselves had intervened, weaving their destinies together in a tapestry of fire and ice.

Their initial meeting was far from the romantic tales sung by skalds. She was bound and helpless, standing amidst the ash and ruin of her once-peaceful village. Dabi, cloaked in darkened furs, surveyed the captives with an air of detached authority. His icy gaze met hers, a meeting of two souls from opposite worlds. "You," he spoke, his voice as cold as the northern winds, "What's your name?"

The woman's voice trembled as she replied, avoiding looking at him, "It doesn't matter anymore."

Dabi's frustration simmered just beneath the surface as her initial reply didn't satisfy his curiosity. He huffed in annoyance, the cold air from his breath mingling with the tension in the atmosphere. His desire to understand her and the strange attraction he felt only intensified.

Closing the distance between them, he moved with a predatory grace, catching her by the shoulders and forcing her to turn to face him. His grip, firm but not unkind, held a subtle hint of authority. Their eyes locked, his piercing gaze penetrating her soul. "I asked you for your name, woman," Dabi demanded, his voice tinged with impatience. It was a command that brooked no disobedience, his intensity pushing past the boundaries of the tumultuous situation they found themselves in. His own desire to know her name and the unexplainable connection he felt had turned into an obsession, and he needed answers, regardless of the circumstances.

As Dabi's demand hung in the air, she met his unwavering gaze. Her eyes, a mixture of fear and defiance, looked up into his, a silent struggle raging within her. But shortly after, her gaze faltered, shifting to the mask he wore, crafted from the jagged jaw of a wolf. The sight sent a shiver down her spine, a symbol of the fierce, untamed nature of the man who stood before her.

The man, with the mask that lent him an imposing visage, was tall and imposing, easily towering over her. His presence alone was enough to instill a sense of vulnerability in her.

Trembling, she finally surrendered to his demand, her voice quivering as she spoke, "I am Y/N." Her name, offered with a tremor in her voice, was a fragile gift, a shard of her identity laid bare in the face of the formidable Viking who had claimed her as his captive.

For the next two days, the Viking raiders worked tirelessly to pack the spoils of their conquest onto their longships.

Dabi, ever the watchful leader, stood guard over the entire process, ensuring that the riches plundered from the Christian village were securely stowed away. The village's treasures, from precious metals to food supplies, were meticulously organized and divided amongst the victorious Vikings.

The night of their conquest, the Vikings celebrated their successful raid with an infernal party. Driven by the spoils they had claimed, they emptied the Christians' pantries of beer, meat, and mead. The sound of merriment echoed through the night, a stark contrast to the sorrow that had befallen the captured villagers.

However, amidst the revelry, there were dark moments that marred the festivities. Some of the Viking warriors, fueled by intoxication and the ruthless nature of their world, committed terrible acts upon the captive Christian women without their consent. It was a grim reminder of the brutality that often accompanied such raids, where power and desire clashed with the innocence of the conquered.

Dabi, torn between his leadership role and the strange attraction he felt for one of the captives, observed the chaos with a heavy heart. The celebration, for him, was a juxtaposition of the jubilant and the sinister, a reflection of the duality that defined their lives as Vikings.

After days of tireless packing, the Viking raiders were finally ready to set sail for their homeland. The longships, laden with the spoils of their conquest, were now prepared to embark on the journey back to the rugged shores they called home.

Dabi took his place at the bow of his longship, a position of command and observation. His keen, turquise eyes surveyed the captivated people who had survived the ruthless acts of the past nights. They were a motley group, marked by both the physical and emotional scars of the raid. Some carried the burden of their violated dignity, while others were haunted by the loss of their loved ones and the destruction of their once-peaceful village.

The longship that Dabi commanded was the largest among the six that had come to the shore. It loomed like a dark behemoth against the horizon, its figurehead carving through the waves, a symbol of the Viking's ruthless power. Dabi watched as the captives, those who would serve as slaves in their new life, reluctantly boarded the vessel. It was a moment that carried with it a sense of foreboding, a step into the unknown, as they embarked on a perilous journey to a life that was bound by the harsh code of the Viking world.

Dabi's keen eyes never left the captivating young woman named Y/N as she hesitantly approached the longship. She was one of the last to board, and her trembling form didn't escape his notice. She might have tried to mask her fears with a poker face, but the vulnerability that emanated from her was unmistakable.

A faint, almost smug smirk played at the corners of Dabi's lips. He knew that Y/N was not going to be easily sold in any market or to another earl. The strange attraction he felt for her had ignited something within him, a desire to protect and possess her. He understood that she was unique, an enigma amidst the other captives, and he was prepared to put pressure on his father to ensure she remained with their family in their Great Hall.

The journey back home was arduous and relentless, the Viking longships battling through raging storms and colossal waves that crashed against their sides. The tempestuous sea was a cruel reminder of nature's might, a fierce adversary they had to contend with on their voyage.

For days on end, they sailed through the tumultuous waters, each day bringing new challenges and peril. The crew worked tirelessly to navigate the treacherous waves, their lives intertwined with the unpredictable whims of the sea. The longships, laden with their ill-gotten gains, were tossed like leaves in a tempest, and the thunderous roars of the ocean were their constant companion.

Dabi, despite his role as a leader, occasionally took walks along the longship to check on his comrades. It was an excuse, he told himself, but the truth was that he sought to steal moments to take a closer look at the captivating young woman named Y/N. She was bound to a mast, her body curled in a defensive posture, a vulnerable figure amidst the chaos.

One night, as they braved the wrath of the sea, Dabi stood close to the place where Y/N was tied. He leaned against the side of the boat, his arms crossed, gazing into the darkness that enveloped them. The crashing waves and the howling winds created an eerie symphony, but his focus remained on the woman who had become a focal point of his thoughts.

"I was curious how," Dabi's voice suddenly pierced the silence.

Startled, Y/N was pulled out from a shallow slumber she had allowed to envelop her. She blinked, momentarily disoriented. "What?" she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of exhaustion and apprehension.

Dabi, who had been standing nearby, turned his gaze toward her. "How do you know our language?" he inquired, his words delivered with a curious, almost neutral tone. It was a question that had been gnawing at him, the mystery of her familiarity with their Viking tongue.

Y/N hesitated, her thoughts racing as she grappled with how to respond. The truth was a delicate matter, a secret that she had guarded with her life. "My father was a Northman," Y/N replied, her voice carrying a note of bitterness, "and as long as he was around, he was teaching me some things."

Dabi's response was not immediate, and in the dim light, his smirk was concealed by the wolf's jaw mask he wore. The revelation intrigued him, and the knowledge that she had learned their language from her Northman father added another layer of complexity to the enigma of Y/N. It was a connection he hadn't anticipated, a bridge between their two worlds that he had yet to fully explore.

"What are you going to do to us?" Y/N asked suddenly, the uncertainty in her eyes betraying her anxiety.

Dabi sighed heavily and walked closer to her, resting his hip against the mast to which she was tied. "You'll work for us," he replied simply, his tone carrying a hint of slyness.

Y/N's expression darkened as she processed his words. "So, we're going to be your slaves," she said with a tinge of bitterness, "a beautiful perspective."

Dabi chuckled softly, the sound muffled by his mask. "Well, we Vikings have a different way of looking at things, you see. You'll find our 'perspective' quite interesting, I assure you."

"Why us?" Y/N asked, curiosity mingling with her apprehension.

Dabi's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Your village was raided before, and you happen to possess a huge amount of goods we needed," he replied, the slyness in his voice becoming more apparent. "You could say it's just a matter of unfortunate circumstances."

"You're a monster. You all are. You killed innocent people!" Y/N ground the accusation from the depths of her mind.

Dabi chuckled darkly, his head tilting back slightly. "We? Oh no, sunshine, we're not monsters," he retorted, his voice dripping with a chilling nonchalance. Dabi leaned in closer to Y/N, his voice low and filled with an air of mystery. "You see," he began, a hint of smugness in his tone. "We are Vikings, warriors of the North. Our ways are brutal, but they're also fiercely proud. We live by the sword and sail by the stars. Our world is one of conquest and survival, where strength and cunning are the ultimate currencies." Dabi paused for a moment, as if considering whether to reveal more. "And you, Y/N, have found yourself caught in the wake of our world. Your journey is now intertwined with ours, and how it unfolds, well, that remains to be seen."

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of the unknown.

Dabi's sharp ears caught the sound of Y/N's quiet sobs, and he turned his gaze toward her.

Her words, filled with pain and anger, washed over him. "I wanna rather die than be a slave," she lamented, "you're animals, killing and robbing for fun. I'll never forgive you for killing my friends."

He let out a low, almost amused chuckle, a sound that resonated with a kind of sly arrogance. "Animals, you say?" he responded, his voice carrying a note of mockery. "Perhaps, but in our world, it's the fittest that survive. We aren't much for sentiment, and the reality is, we did what we had to do to ensure our own survival." Dabi's gaze remained fixed on her, and his tone took on a more cryptic edge. "As for forgiveness, sunshine, that's not something I'm particularly concerned about. We live by the code of the North, and it's a world where the line between predator and prey is often blurred. It's a harsh existence, but it's ours."

As the Viking longships sailed southward through the tempestuous sea, they finally reached their home village, known as Skjaldvargr nestled on the southern shores of Norway.

The arrival of Dabi and his crew was met with a raucous reception. The people of Skjaldvargr, mostly guards and shieldmaidens, had been eagerly awaiting their return. The shieldmaidens, with their fierce eyes and battle-worn armor, stood proudly alongside their male counterparts, a testament to the equality that defined Viking society.

The village came to life with the clanging of shields and the joyful cries of reunion as the raiders disembarked, their ill-gotten treasures in tow. It was a homecoming marked by the spoils of their conquest and the triumphant return of their warriors, a scene that underscored the unyielding spirit of the people of Skjaldvargr.

The longships were expertly unloaded, and the captivated men and women were carefully escorted off the vessels. They were bound together, forming a dispirited line, their faces etched with a mixture of fear and resignation. The captives from the Christian village now stood on the wooden pier, their lives forever changed by the Viking raid.

Dabi was the last to disembark. As he stepped onto the pier, the people of Skjaldvargr erupted into cheers. His name carried weight in the village; he was known not only as a fierce Viking warrior but also as one of the heirs to Endeavor, their ruthless earl. His presence was a symbol of power and authority, and the villagers greeted him with a mixture of reverence and admiration.

The triumphant return of Dabi and his crew marked a momentous occasion in the life of Skjaldvargr, where the spoils of their conquest and the legend of their daring deeds would echo through the halls of their Great Hall. The fate of the captives, bound and silent, hung in the balance, as the world of the Northmen unfurled before them.

Among the men and women on the shore, there was a tall, white-haired male with a thick, long fur draped around his shoulders, a figure that stood out amidst the assembled Vikings.

Dabi approached the man and wrapped him in a warm hug. "Natsuo, brother," he greeted him with a grin that couldn't be seen behind his mask.

Natsuo, the younger of the two, returned the hug, placing his hands on Dabi's shoulders. "Looking good and returning successful again. Wonderful," he replied with a hint of admiration in his voice. He stepped back, taking a moment to study his brother. "But what's all this fuss about a Christian village?" he inquired, his curiosity evident. "You've got everyone talking."

Dabi's smirk only widened as he regarded his brother. "Oh, Natsuo, it's a long story. Let's catch up over a drink at the Great Hall. I have quite the tale to tell."

The brothers shared a knowing glance, the unspoken understanding between them evident in their eyes.

Dabi wasted no time in issuing his orders to one of his men. "Make sure the Y/H/C woman is not sent to the market but is brought straight to the Great Hall," he commanded, his tone devoid of any room for discussion.

His bondsman, ever dutiful, nodded in acknowledgment of the directive.

Natsuo, wearing a mischievous grin, couldn't resist teasing his older brother about the mysterious woman. "Dabi, she must be quite the catch if you're keeping her for yourself," he said, his tone laced with amusement. "Hope you're going to share a little!"

Dabi scoffed, playfully shoving his brother's shoulder. "Don't be absurd, Natsuo. She's just a captive from the Christian village. I've got more important matters to attend to," he replied, his tone gruff but carrying a hint of a secret smile. "Now, off to the Great Hall. Father is likely impatient for the reports."

The banter between the two brothers continued as they made their way to the heart of Skjaldvargr, leaving behind the captivated woman who had captured Dabi's attention and a tale that had yet to fully unfold.

His hips moved with swift and forceful determination, and the woman beneath him found herself panting and moaning his name in response. With a final series of intense grunts and thrusts, the young man with distinctive two-coloured hair reached his climax, giving one last deep thrust into the girl, spilling his seed in her.

She gently placed her palm against his cheek, her touch brushing over a scarred, reddened area under his left eye. However, her hand was met with a swift and firm push as he growled, withdrawing from her and hurriedly adjusting his pants.

"No," he snarled, pushing her off his bed with ease. "Get the fuck out now," he demanded, his tone filled with a brusque and dismissive edge.

"But you told me you liked me and that we'd have more time together," the young thrall whispered softly as she gathered her clothes from the wooden floor.

The young man's chuckle was cold and devoid of genuine emotion. "Are you that naive?" he sneered, "I only wanted your pussy, nothing else. Get out of my bed before my father or older brother catch you. You don't want to find yourself in trouble, do you?"

The thrall, disheartened and regretful, quickly dressed and left the room. She entered the main chamber of the Great Hall just as Natsuo and Dabi stepped through the massive doors.

Their father, Endeavor, the fearsome earl of Skjaldvargr, was seated at the throne at the end of the chamber, grinding his axe. His stern gaze bore into his eldest son as they approached, a silent expectation for a report on their latest raid.

"The raid on the Christian village was a resounding success. We looted their coffers, took their goods, and brought back valuable supplies that will sustain our village for the winter. The riches we've acquired are beyond our expectations."

Endeavor nodded, acknowledging the information. "Any captives?" he inquired, his eyes scrutinizing his son.

Dabi continued, "We have several men and women who will serve as thralls. We've also secured a Y/H/C woman who is very unique, father. She possesses knowledge of our language, and I've made the decision to keep her within our Great Hall rather than sending her to the market."

He listened to Dabi's report with a stern demeanor, his eyes narrowing as his son spoke about the captive Y/H/C woman. When Dabi finished, the earl's voice held a note of warning. "You know that you shouldn't be making such decisions without my consent," he admonished, his tone heavy with authority. "But this time, I will let it slide."

Inside, Dabi couldn't help but heave a silent sigh of relief. Endeavor's leniency meant that he would have the opportunity to interact with Y/N more freely, a chance to explore the mystery and attraction that had drawn him to her during the journey home. The knowledge that he wouldn't face immediate consequences for his impulsive decision filled him with a sense of gratitude, even as he maintained his outward composure.

Natsuo, on the other hand, took a seat at the long table, where freshly cooked meat was being served by their thralls. He joined the warriors who had gathered to eat, listening to the tale of their successful raid with a satisfied grin. The sounds of feasting and celebration filled the Great Hall, a stark contrast to the darkness and secrets that had transpired on the longship during the journey home.

As Dabi stood in front of his father, a sudden presence caught his attention. A young man with two-colored hair, neatly groomed but slightly untidy now, had joined them. It was Shoto, Dabi's youngest brother, who had recently celebrated his eighteenth spring. His appearance and demeanor appeared deceivingly innocent, but Dabi knew that his younger sibling was not to be underestimated.

"So, you've returned, brother," Shoto said, his tone dripping with feigned sweetness. He offered Dabi a smile that was almost too saccharine, given the complexities of their family dynamics.

Dabi acknowledged Shoto with a nod, a sense of unease brewing beneath the surface.

Shoto turned his attention to their father, Endeavor, his voice carrying a subtle air of request. "Father, this winter, I want to visit Earl Gizzor's settlement, as we discussed. It's crucial that we maintain good relationships between our settlements."

Dabi furrowed his brow, disbelief tinging his words. "What? How do you intend to do that? We've declared war on them."

Shoto maintained his sweet smile as he responded, "While you were away, brother, father and I reached an agreement. We've decided that it's no longer necessary to wage war with Earl Gizzor. Instead, we've buried the hatchet."

Dabi was taken aback, struggling to process what he was hearing. Earl Gizzor was known to be a man of dubious trustworthiness, and the sudden reconciliation with him left a bitter taste in Dabi's mouth. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss, and the unexpected alliance between his younger brother and their father raised more questions than it provided answers.

Endeavor nodded in agreement with Shoto's proposal, adding his voice to the conversation. "Shoto is right, Dabi. Maintaining alliances and peace with neighboring earls is essential. We can't be at war on all fronts."

Dabi, with a simple nod of acknowledgment, turned to leave the throne area of the chamber. However, before he walked away, he caught Shoto's shoulder, his grip gentle but firm. "You have a fucking sperm on your pants, you little bastard," he grumbled, his voice low and filled with a blend of irritation and brotherly mockery. "Which poor thrall have you managed to lure into your charms this time?"

Shoto, not one to be easily cowed, replied in a wry and cocky whisper, ensuring their father couldn't hear, "You're always looking so closely, brother. Some of us don't need a mask to be charming. If you looked look like a real man, you wouldn't need to be envious of my romantic pursuits," he quipped, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he took a not-so-subtle dig at Dabi, looking him hardly in the eyes.

Their exchange, hidden beneath the veneer of family respect and decorum, hinted at a deeper sibling rivalry and a history of conflicting personalities. The tension between Dabi and Shoto was a thread woven into the very fabric of their family.

Dabi's patience worn thin by the exchange with Shoto. He scoffed and let go of his younger brother's arm. He turned and made his way straight to his chamber, his footsteps heavy.

Natsuo, who had been a silent witness to the situation between his two brothers, watched with a heavy heart. He loved them both and couldn't bring himself to pick sides, but the tension in the air was palpable, and he worried about the growing rift between Dabi and Shoto.

In his own chamber, Dabi wasted no time. He shed his outer layers, discarding the fur, the mask, woolen shirt, and pants until he stood naked in the room. He flopped onto his bed, which was covered with furs, and stared at the ceiling. His mind was filled with thoughts about everything that had transpired during the days, and he couldn't help but wonder about Shoto's intentions and the potential consequences of their father's newfound alliance.

After some contemplation, he decided to take a bath to clear his mind. Dabi wrapped a towel around his hips and called for one of the thralls to prepare a hot bath for him.

As the thrall prepared the bath, the steam filled the room, creating a cozy and relaxing atmosphere. Dabi wasted no time and immersed himself in the hot water of the wooden tub. The soothing warmth seeped into his muscles, and he leaned back comfortably against the edge, closing his eyes.

The scent of the bath's herbs and oils mixed with the steam, creating a fragrant haven that allowed Dabi to momentarily escape the complexities of his world. With each passing moment, the tensions seemed to melt away, leaving him in blissful solitude and the serene embrace of the soothing bathwater.

As you were brought to the Great Hall, everything appeared new and unfamiliar. Fear coursed through your veins as you found yourself surrounded by strangers, most of them men whose eyes bore into you with an unsettling hunger. The air was thick with whispered, lewd comments, but you did your best to avoid drawing attention, keeping your gaze lowered and your composure intact.

Amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces, an older woman, a thrall who had been through similar experiences, extended a hand to guide you away from the prying eyes. She offered a reassuring smile as she took your hand and spoke in a soothing tone. "Come with me, child. I'll explain your new duties and help you settle in," she said, her voice filled with empathy. "You'll find your place here, and in time, it will become more familiar."

Her words provided a glimmer of hope in the midst of your fear, as you followed the thrall to begin your new life in the Great Hall, embarking on a journey that held both uncertainty and the possibility of finding your own strength in a world of unfamiliar faces and customs.

The thrall, as she handed you a plain, thick, greyish dress, began to speak about the members of the earl's family. Her voice was gentle and informative, and you listened attentively, eager to learn more about the people you would be serving. In the end, it was your new life.

She explained, "The earl is Endeavor, a formidable leader and the head of this settlement. He's known for his strength and authority, but also for his ruthlessness."

You nodded, taking in the information, and she continued, "Touya, the eldest son, is a fierce warrior, and he's known for his prowess in raids. His younger brother, Natsuo, is more diplomatic, often seeking peaceful resolutions. The youngest of Endeavor's sons is Shoto," the thrall continued, her voice carrying a more cautious tone as she spoke of him. "He can be the most problematic one, especially when it comes to his affairs." Her words were filled with a hint of warning. "Shoto is known for his charisma and charm, but don't be fooled. He's a smooth talker and has a way of getting what he wants." She leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing as she emphasized, "Be careful around him, dear. He may seem charming, but his intentions can be far from virtuous."

Overwhelmed by the realization that you had been reduced to nothing but a slave, a feeling of hopelessness and anger welled up within you. You turned to the elder woman and, with a hint of defiance, you declared, "I don't want to work. I won't be a slave."

The thrall, her expression heavy with the weight of harsh reality, looked at you with a stern gaze. She leaned in closer, her voice low and foreboding as she whispered, "You don't have a choice in this matter, my child, so hadn't I. If you refuse to work, you won't survive for long. This is the way of our world, and it's a harsh one. I arrived here several years ago, after being taken from the settlement of another earl who was killed in a battle with Endeavor, and ever since, I've been toiling for the earl's family. The tasks are far from rewarding, but such is the way of life," she explained, her voice tinged with resignation.

As you inquired about the tall man who cnquered your village, the thrall's eyes held a certain intensity, and she clarified, "It was Dabi. Dabi is his chosen warrior name. His given name is Touya."

You had obediently completed your first task of cleaning the Great Hall, even though it felt like a menial chore that reflected your new life as a thrall. However, when another thrall instructed you to go to another room to help with the bath, you complied without question. With a heavy sigh, you followed the directions and pushed open the door.

As you stepped into the room, a rush of steam enveloped you, carrying a fragrance of herbs that filled the air. Your brow furrowed in surprise, but before you could react further, the steam dissipated. What lay before you was a scene that caught you off guard: a large bed and clothes, and a mask that you recognized from when Dabi had worn it.

Then, your eyes fell upon the figure in the bath, and a gasp escaped your lips, a sound you couldn't control. You took an involuntary step back as the sight unfolded before you. The man in the bath was Dabi, his body covered with a patchwork of purple, dark, scarred skin. These gnarled, wrinkled, and disfigured patches marred much of his lower face and neck, extending past his collarbone, and continued down his arms and legs. Your whimper of shock hung in the air, and you couldn't help but take another step back, horror etched on your face. It was the first time you saw him without a mask.

Dabi's turquoise eyes opened slowly, and he gazed at you with a haunting intensity. "That's you," he whispered, a quiet acknowledgment of your presence, his voice tinged with a hint of mystery and a deep well of secrets.

As the realization of Dabi's disfigured appearance settled in, the room seemed to grow heavy with tension. Your initial shock gave way to a mix of empathy and curiosity, wondering about the circumstances that had led to such extensive scarring.

The room, suffused with the aroma of herbs, steam and the eerie sight of his scars, seemed to cradle you both in its embrace, marking a pivotal moment that was only beginning to unfold.

heathen wolves: @indignant-alpaca @misafiryanki @roast-toast @within-eyesight @crystalwolfblog

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tightjeansjavi · 7 months

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In the Warmth of Your Love

part II of Burning in a Hopeless Dream

Chapter one | “can’t quit you, baby”

A/N: to kick off my 1 year celebration of writing fic…we’re going right back to my roots! 🤭 to my devoted Gwen & Joel fans, this one is for y’all! I wrote this back in October after taking a looong hiatus from the series. The original path was to pick up on chapter 17 and continue to follow the path of the show. I decided that trying to essentially rewrite the events that take place after Bill & Franks episode was just too much for me to handle. I knew I wanted to continue Joel & Gwen’s story, but I didn’t know what that would end up looking like!

In the Warmth of Your Love takes place after the events in the hospital.

~word count: 3.1k~

Summary: a glimpse into your new life in Jackson with Joel.

Pairing | joel miller x f!oc

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, established relationship, found family, age gap, (oc is in her early 30’s and Joel is in his 50’s) unprotected piv, pining, cock warming, dirty talk, praise kink, domestic intimacy, they’re so in love it hurts, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

“Swear to me.”

“Swear to me that everything you said about the Fireflies is true, Joel.”

“I swear.”

6 months had passed since you and Joel murdered every single Firefly in the Salt Lake City hospital. 6 months since Joel swore to Ellie that everything he told her about the Fireflies was true. That they had stopped looking for a cure, and raiders attacked the hospital. That there were more people like Ellie that were immune.

It was all a lie. One that you and Joel carried on your shoulders everyday. As Ellie’s guardians, you and Joel made the decision that you both felt was the right one.

“Jesus fuck, Joel. What the hell did you do?” Tommy asked his brother the day after the three of you showed back up on Jackson’s doorstep.

“I did what I had to do. I protected her. I saved her. I killed every last person that stood in the way of me getting to Ellie. They were going to kill her, Tommy. They were going to kill her and I—we couldn’t let that happen. Ellie didn’t want to die. I know she didn’t because she fuckin’ told me before we were ambushed. I killed Marlene. I killed the doctor who was going to perform the surgery. I killed them all.” Joel admitted.

Tommy scrubbed a hand down his face with a heavy sigh as he sank back against the chair. “And Gwen? What was her role in all of this?”

“She killed them too. We did it together.”

“Does..Ellie know the truth?” Tommy already knew the answer but he wanted to hear it from Joel’s mouth first.

“No, she doesn’t. And she never will know what happened in that hospital. She can live her life the way she deserves to. She can make friends and be happy for once in her fuckin’ life.”

“Joel, I can’t have two murders livin’ in town. Maria won’t stand for it, and you know that brother.”

“Tommy, please. I’m your brother, for fuck’s sake. Gwen and I only did what we felt was right. Wouldn’t you do the same if it was your kid? You don’t have to tell Maria the truth. Don’t we deserve a second chance at peace too?”

“It doesn’t matter what the fuck I would have done in that situation Joel! You—you fucking murdered an entire hospital of Fireflies! This town doesn’t condone violence, and if anyone were to ever find out—”

Joel was leaning forward in his chair, his hands clasped together as he looked at his brother, right in his eyes with pure desperation in his deep brown irises. “I’ll be carryin’ that burden for the rest of my fuckin’ days. You’ve killed people too, Tommy. Just because you’ve been living here with a loving wife, and a baby on the way, doesn’t mean that the blood on your own goddamn hands gets erased. Listen to me, okay? Gwen is a good fucking person. She’s got a huge heart and she deserves a second chance too. She’s good with horses, and I can help you with any of the heavy lifting shit that gets done around here. Please, Tommy. Please let us stay.”

Tommy stared right back at his brother and deep down he knew he couldn’t turn him away, no matter how hard he tried.

“Okay. All three of you can stay, under one condition. You never, and I mean never speak about what happened at that hospital to anyone. You hear me Joel? Never.”

“I swear on my life that I will never speak about it again. You have my word Tommy.”

Maria was no idiot and Tommy knew this all too well about his wife. “They’ll stay in the house they were in the last time they came through here. Joel said that Gwen has worked with horses before and can help out around the stables, and Joel can help me with fixin’ things ‘round here. He’s really good with that stuff.”

“We have enough mouths to feed as it is Tommy. I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Maria, Joel is my brother. He’s been through hell, all three of them have. I’m not going to turn them away so can we please come up with a compromise here?”

“Fine. I just don’t want Joel or Gwen near any weapons. If they’re going to live here, then they’re going to abide by our rules. Ellie will go to school with the rest of the kids and I expect Gwen to also help out with food prep and the Tipsy Bison. Joel can help you with the handiwork projects, and in time he can help out on patrol.”

“Ellie will probably end up fighting tooth and nail to not go back to school, but I’m sure we can work that out.”

In the early mornings you were helping out in the stables. Feeding the horses, mucking stalls, and grooming. It was easy enough to fall back into a routine that you had known so well from your teen years. You knew horses better than anyone in Jackson did, and you were beyond grateful at being given a fresh start. Your afternoons were spent in the mess hall kitchen. Prepping vegetables and breaking down chickens for dinner. Food was abundant in a place like this, and you weren’t sure if you would ever grow used to the feeling of no longer having to starve.

Your evenings after dinner were spent at the Tipsy Bison, working behind the bartop with Tommy. If there was one thing the men in Jackson loved, it was a pretty woman serving them whiskey after a long day out on patrol. At the end of each day there was only one man you wanted to see in your bed, and that man was Joel; your Joel.

These days you hardly saw him or Ellie. Your schedules were different. With Ellie at school and working at the stables in the afternoon, and Joel helping Tommy in the mornings, and then patrolling through the evening, there was barely any time for you to spend together. He still held you at night through his exhaustion, but he too missed the way things used to be.

The days flew by, summer had come and gone. The seasons changed and the air grew colder, and the nights grew longer.

You had just finished wiping down the bartop after the last of the stragglers headed home for the night. You carefully placed every bottle of liquor back onto the shelf before scrubbing the glasses clean. The record player crackled in the background, Led Zeppelin's ‘I Can’t Quit You Baby’ a rock n’roll classic. You hummed the tune, swaying your hips subconsciously to the low beat.

The door to the Tipsy Bison swung open on the hinges as you let out a sigh, not looking up from the table you were wiping down. “We’re closed for the evening. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

“I don’t wanna anythin’ to drink.” Joel rasped as he closed the door behind him.

“Joel? What are you doing here?..it’s late, shouldn’t you be at home?” You looked up at him through thick lashes.

“Couldn’t sleep. Decided to go for a walk, n’ended up here. I miss you..so much. Hardly get to see much of ya at all. Jus’ thought we could spend some time together, even if it’s gotta be in a place like this.”

“I miss you too, Joel. You know I do.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He paused as his gaze fell upon your exhausted face, and tired eyes. “S’that Zeppelin playin?’” He rested his elbow along the high top you had just wiped down.

“Yeah, one of the patrol guys found it for me in an abandoned house a few miles west. It’s got a few scratches but is otherwise in fair shape.”

“Mm.” He hummed under his breath. “S’you got admirers then? Can’t say I blame ‘em. Pretty thing like you servin’ them whiskey all night? How do ya keep ‘em at bay?” His brow raised in curiosity.

“With this.” You slipped your knife from the holster hidden under your shirt with ease. “Tommy keeps them on a tight leash anyway. They know not to try anything funny.”

“Breakin’ the rules already? Maria said no weapons, sweetheart.” He leaned forward along his elbow as his fingers reached out and brushed against the worn hilt of your knife. He could just barely make out your carved initials through the thick wood. “You tell ‘em that you're mine? That you’re Joel’s girl, and that if any of ‘em ever were to—”

“Joel, relax. No one has tried anything past harmless flirting. Everyone knows that you and I..we’re an item. What Maria doesn’t know won’t kill her. My knife is a safety net that I’m just not ready, nor willing to give up right now.”

“We’re more than an item, Gwen. We’re partners for life. I know your knife is your safety net. I know it is, baby. S’why I still sleep with a gun under my pillow. Knowin’ it’s there helps calm me, but the one person that keeps my nightmares at bay ain’t home. She’s not in bed with me cus’ she’s here servin’ whiskey all night to men that probably fantasize about what it’s like to be with a woman like you.” He breathed out and you could taste his warm breath along your unkissed lips.

“Of course we are Joel. I got you, you got me. That hasn’t changed, and it never will. We’re both in this adjustment period and it’s tough. I’d much rather be at home with you and Ellie, but Maria said I had to ‘pay’ my dues.” You gently placed your knife along the smooth wooden surface of the table. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can get you to drink, Mr. Miller?”

“If you’re on the menu for tonight, then that’s what I’ll be havin.’”

“I believe we might be all sold out of that for tonight. Let me go check in the back just to be sure.” You were already turning on your heel to walk away before you felt his warm and calloused palm wrap around your wrist, halting you from taking another step.

“Ain’t you got a little love left for me? When’s the last time I’ve tasted those lips, hm?” He gently coaxed you to step towards him, and once you were close enough, his hand released your wrist and found purchase around your hip through muscle memory. His fingers flexed as his thumb slipped through the belt loop on your jeans. “Y’remember that night after teachin’ Robert a lesson? When we fucked in that back alley without a care in the goddamn world if FEDRA would catch us or not? Remember when we would..have fun? Don’tcha miss that?”

“I’ve always got love left for you Joel. I can’t remember the last time we kissed without us thinking it would be the last time. I do remember that night, just as if it had happened yesterday.” Your hands found themselves resting along his shoulders, squeezing them gently through the material of his worn jacket. In the low lighting your eyes discerned the speckled gray in his beard, and the salt and pepper silver strands of hair. His chapped lips, his inviting eyes that always softened their hardness around you. “We had fun, Joel but between all of that there was so much—”

“No. Don’t say another word. Y’hear me? We don’t have to run. We don’t have to hide. We don’t have to fight. We’re safe here. You, me and Ellie. I won’t deny that you and I—we’ve suffered, but in that suffering we have loved goddammit. We have loved so fuckin’ hard. You're the breath in my lungs, n’you’re the soft breeze kissin’ on my skin. You’re the sun risin n’settin’ everyday. You’re the moonlight guidin’ me home. Your eyes twinkle brighter than any goddamn star in that sky. You’re my—” his words were stolen from his lips as you yanked on the collar of his jacket and pulled him down to your awaiting lips. You kissed him so deeply it felt like both the air from yours and his lungs was being knocked from your bodies. A cataclysmic wave of emotions washed through your veins as you pulled him as close as physically possible. Tongues tangled as you stumbled back against the nearest stable surface; the bartop counter.

“When did you become such a fuckin’ poet, Joel?” You asked breathlessly between kisses as your fingers tangled recklessly through his hair.

“Started readin’ more. Shakespeare mostly.” He mumbled against your lips as he stepped between your thighs, pressing your back firmly against the counter.

“You hate Shakespeare.” You retorted, gripping his hair tighter as your free hand started to desperately tug and push the fabric of his jacket down from his broad shoulders.

“You love Shakespeare.” He countered.

“Less talking, more kissing please. I gotta say it’s fucking hot that you are reading more. I find that so fucking sexy Joel.”

“Yeah? Think it’s sexy when a rugged old man like me reads Shakespeare?” He helped you remove his jacket completely as he threw it to the floor in a haste.

“You’re not that old, baby. Besides, I like your salt and pepper hair and little gray patches in your beard. You’re so fucking beautiful Joel.”

“I’m pretty fuckin’ old, baby. Old and a little gray, but I still got it n’me to fuck you stupid. Jus’ the way that my girl likes it. Them dogs out there don’t know how to handle a woman of your caliber. Now, hop up that pretty lil’ ass up on that counter f’me.”

“You don’t have to ask me twice Mr. Miller.” You detached your lips from his momentarily as you hoisted yourself up onto the edge of the countertop. You wasted no time to grasp the end of your t-shirt and yank it over your head.

“Someone is fuckin’ eager.” He chuckled as he pulled his sweater and Henley long sleeve over his head. He was feeling like the man he once was again; you were feeling like a woman reborn as he popped the button of your jeans and tugged the zipper down as you reached for his belt in a haste, listening to the familiar metal clanking sound.

“Only ever eager for you Joel. You gonna touch me or just ogle?” You teased with a light giggle as your arms draped around his neck. Your bodies were littered with scars, old and new. Two torn canvases splattered with remnants of a life once solely based upon survival.

Joel tugged your jeans down over your hips before his movements paused as his eyes flitted down to the long scar across your lower abdomen. His fingers brushed across the raised skin before he leaned down and pressed his lips to it. “I love you so fuckin’ much, Gwen.” His lips ghosted across your hip bone.

“I love you so fucking much too, Joel. I need you so bad. Please, baby. Don’t make me beg for it. It’s been too fucking long, and I think I’ll pass out if I don’t have your cock inside of me in the next five minutes.”

“Baby, you’re so generous...givin’ me five minutes to give it to ya?” He looked up at you, grinning like a devil as he slowly peeled your panties down your thighs and past your ankles. “What about your pussy? Think she’s missed me a lot too? Cus’ I’ve missed her so fuckin’ much.” He dragged his fingers southward across your pubic bone, dipping into the sweet sticky slick between your folds. “Mmm. Yeah, I’d say she missed me too. This all f’me?”

Your back instinctively arched towards his touch as your thighs spread open the slightest. Between the cool surface of the countertop, and Joel’s warm touch you were positively dripping for him. “Mhmm..she’s missed you too. So fucking much.” You mewled and slowly reached your hand between your bodies as you palmed him through his briefs. “Give. It. To. Me. Now.”

You nearly growled the words out.

“There she is. There’s my fuckin’ girl. Always know how to get your man goin’ huh? You ain’t even gotta try sweetheart. M’always fuckin’ ready for you.” His lips were on yours once more. Kissing you with the same amount of fervency as he always did. His mouth claimed yours as he freed himself from his briefs. You felt his tip notch between your folds as you took a synchronized broken gasp.

Your hands were grasping at his shoulders, nails scraping at his skin as he slowly sunk himself to the hilt. Joel always had this way of making you feel impossibly filled with him. It was as if your bodies were in fact made for one another, fitting like two puzzle pieces as his forehead pressed lightly against yours. “Fuckin’ Christ. Missed this feelin’ of your pussy huggin’ me like this baby. Always so fuckin’ tight.”

He jutted his hips forward with one harsh thrust that had you both shuddering from the intense pleasurable feeling of being connected once more.

“I’ll—I’ll never get tired of this feeling.” You moaned his name, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts.

“What feelin?’” He rasped.

“Feeling so fucking filled by you. So complete. So warm.”

“S’like you and I were made for each other. All mine, all yours.” His free hand that wasn’t wrapped around your hip drifted down to where your bodies were connected. His thumb easily found your clit as he rubbed it expertly in tight circles.

“Fuck! Yes, keep—keep doing that baby. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop, Joel.” You begged him.

“Ain’t gonna stop. I can’t quit you baby. Can’t quit ya. Never can. Never will. I got you, you got me.” He used what was left of his energy to fuck into you the way that you deserved so that feeling that only he could give you would reside deep within your veins even after your body’s were spent, and he had grown soft in your comforting warmth around him.

He kissed your skin delicately as your sweat slicked bodies stayed pressed together. He kissed your forehead, your cheekbones, your eyelids. Your chin, the tip of your nose and your lips. He cleaned the evidence of yours and his releases from between your thighs before you helped one another redress.

He walked you home, arm draped over your shoulders as your slap-happy giggles and enthusiastic chatter filled the chilled night air with domestic warmth.

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cinnamongorll · 9 months

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a fragile line - chapter 10

read on ao3! (111k words) | previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female OC

Tags: extreme slow burn, age gap, older man/younger woman, protective joel, jealous joel, hurt/comfort, pov third person, mutual pining, angst, sexual tension, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, feral joel, parental abuse, eventual smut.

Fic synopsis: three years ago, Juliet escaped her father's religious survivor camp, ending up in the Boston QZ. Juliet created a life for herself in Boston, desperate to forget the trauma of her upbringing. One day, Juliet arrives home to find a mysterious letter which forces her to return to her home town. Juliet can't travel the harsh post-apocalyptic landscape alone, so she enlists the help of the grumpy and, at times, frightening man she works alongside: Joel Miller.

Warnings: threats and allusions to sexual assault + graphic violence

Word count: 4.3k

this is one of my favourite chapters - enjoy <3

Chapter 10: 'Salt and the Sea'

Joel's POV:

“Can’t you just show me the basics?” Juliet asked, a slight whine entering her typically even tone.

“No,” Joel responded instantly. He tightened his hands on the wheel and stared straight ahead as the afternoon sun softened the decaying road ahead. Joel heard Juliet scoff, watching from the corner of his eye as she crossed her arms and turned her head towards the window. For the past hour, Juliet had become obsessed with the prospect of driving, asking Joel every question that appeared in her obviously very erratic mind, wanting to know what each number on the gear stick meant and why there were three pedals at his feet.

Joel knew what she was doing. He had witnessed the look in her eyes the night he killed that girl. The night something shifted in her. Juliet needed to be distracted, desperately.

But Joel wasn’t entertaining it, he was there to get Juliet to her dad in Iowa and get his supplies. Nothing else. He wasn’t there to teach her to drive or to distract her from whatever rotted in the dark corners of her mind. He had enough of that himself.

So Joel sat in Bill’s shitty truck, ignoring every attempt at conversation Juliet threw his way. Maybe there was some past version of himself who would be ashamed of his treatment of the woman who sat beside him, but he wasn’t that man anymore. In this world, you look out for yourself and no one else, that’s how you stay alive.

Juliet had a map spread across her lap, ready to direct Joel when needed. They were still driving along backroads, only driving for a couple hours a day to avoid the raiders that littered this area of the country. It was stifling, Joel had to veer off another road earlier today when Juliet spotted an awaiting ambush up ahead.

Joel tried not to question how Juliet knew so much about raiders. He didn’t want to think they were similar in any way. She was too young, too blameless to have been involved in that life of horror and regret.

Joel shook his head, attempting to brush away thoughts of Juliet and what lay behind her dark eyes. Joel just barked another order at her: “Find the nearest gas station, we’re runnin’ low.”

The rustling of the map filled the truck and Joel leaned back in his seat, not daring to glance over at the slight wrinkle he knew appeared on Juliet’s forehead when she concentrated.

……………………………………..

Joel crouched beside the rusted red car, his legs burning as he positioned the canister underneath the syphon, petrol slowly trickling out.

He stared at a crumbling leaf on the ground beside his feet, its rusted colour was a stark contrast against the dark grey concrete it had settled upon. Joel was always shocked by any reminder that life continued. He was so stagnant; never changing, never evolving in this post-apocalyptic afterlife. But the seasons still changed, summer bled into autumn with cold chills and falling leaves, while Joel stayed entirely the same. A figure frozen in a snowglobe as life continued to swirl around him, scattering at his feet.

“Why do we have to do this so often?”

Joel looked up as Juliet stood in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest as she stared down at him. The sun appeared like a halo behind her head, Joel blinked a few times before his eyes focused again on the drips of petrol puddling in the near empty canister.

Joel cleared his throat. “Gas breaks down over time, this stuff’s almost water,” he answered without looking up.

Juliet didn’t respond and Joel knew from past experience that she was waiting on more information. Baiting him with her silence.

Joel rolled his eyes. “Back in the day, we’d drive ten, twelve hours on one tank,” he finally added. “You could go anywhere.”

Juliet crouched down beside him, staring at the syphon. Then she tilted her head up and met the dark eyes that were already focused on her. Joel held his breath, she was so close to him that he could smell the sweat that coated her skin in a soft sheen under the early autumn sun. Juliet licked her lips.

“So where’d you go?” she whispered. Her eyes had left him and were locked on the syphon again.

A spark of unease shot through his body, her question threatened to resurface memories buried deep. He looked away, towards the deserted road.

“Pretty much nowhere,” he answered, now looking down at the dirt on his hands.

Juliet nodded slowly as though she was expecting that answer. Then she glanced at him and smiled softly before placing a hand on the side of the car to push herself up. Joel winced when his eyes hovered over the cuts that etched her fingers in sharp dark lines. They were worse a couple days ago, when Joel rubbed a whiskey soaked cloth over them and determined, with a breath of relief, that she didn’t need stitches. He found his own fingers trembling with a restrained rage when he realised what had caused those wounds. He had half a mind to confiscate Juliet’s knife.

Then he saw the look in her eyes, they were so empty as though her mind had entirely checked out. He heard something break in her when his bullet hit that girl’s head, something break in himself too. He decided to let her keep the knife and he replaced the ammo in her gun as she slept that night. Joel would make sure she had every defence possible so he never had to watch the light flicker out in her eyes ever again.

Juliet cleared her throat when she stood, towering over him once again. “I’m going to go check out the toilets,” she said, pointing behind them at the gas station and the toilet block attached to the side.

Joel nodded, his eyes following Juliet’s retreating figure as she made her way towards the collapsing building. His chest tightened when she was out of sight.

To distract himself, Joel continued planning the rest of their journey in his mind. By his estimate, and the excruciatingly slow progress they could only make by limiting their driving time, Joel thought they would make it to Juliet’s community in about three days. Thoughts of Tommy were ever present in his mind, every delay in their journey kept Joel from discovering what had happened to him, or even finding out if he was still alive.

Joel curled his hand into a fist, his fear always walked a thin line with his anger.

When the syphon stopped dripping, Joel stood up, wiping his hands on his dark jeans and looked around. There wasn’t enough petrol so he’d have to find another car before they could get moving again. He wiped the sweat from his forehead before bending down again to pick up the canister.

Joel paused when his hand gripped the handle, his head perking up as he heard a crash come from the outbuilding Juliet had walked into only minutes before. Joel didn’t waste any time, he grabbed his backpack from the ground, slung it over his shoulder, pulled his gun from his back pocket and rounded the red car, heading towards the toilet block.

Another crash echoed through the silent air, Joel moved faster, his footsteps hard but quiet as he rounded the building to the broken door with a smashed window. Joel’s jaw clenched as his back met the wall, his gun out as he listened.

He could hear Juliet’s voice pitched in a hard whisper and the response of a man. A bolt of fear fired through him as Joel pushed himself away from the wall and stalked through the door.

When he entered the room, Joel spotted three men, two of which now stood with their guns drawn towards him and the other had Juliet pinned to the opposite wall, his arms caged around her. Her backpack on the floor by their feet.

“Get off her” Joel growled, his voice deadly.

Juliet yelped and pushed the man off of her, who now stood with his hands raised in the air as a laugh choked out of him.

“Who’s this?” the man drawled, looking down at Juliet. “Did you replace me?”

Joel stiffened, his eyes on Juliet, scanning her for any injuries. She looked fine but her eyes were wide, terrified.

She swallowed, Joel followed the harsh movement in her throat. “Joel,” she began, then paused to plaster a smile on her face. “This is Blake.”

Blake was wearing a black tank that was probably two sizes too small for him, Joel assumed it was to ensure everyone could see the tattoos which covered his upper body.

Juliet moved closer to Blake and rested her hand on his shoulder. Joel tightened his grip on his gun when Blake smiled back at Juliet, roaming his eyes over her body.

“Blake,” Juliet continued, then pointed towards Joel. “This is Joel, he’s been travelling with me for the past few weeks.”

“Travelling with you, huh?” Blake laughed. “Nothing else?”

Juliet giggled. “It’s not like that,” she replied as her smile tightened.

Joel was frozen, staring at the group of strangers and back at Juliet who looked the same but was acting like an entirely different person. Joel would have assumed it was a different woman if he hadn’t seen the wild terror in her brown eyes. Joel understood what that look was telling him: just go with it.

Blake looked over at the two men with guns pointed towards Joel. “John, Jeremey, enough of that, put down the guns,” he said, motioning with his hands to drop their weapons. Then he turned to Juliet and flung an arm around her, Juliet winced when his arm hit her injured shoulder. “Any friend of Juliet’s is a friend of mine.”

Joel waited another moment before he lowered his own gun, not daring to put it away.

“So, Boston didn’t work out then?” Blake asked Juliet, turning his face towards her and tracing her cheek with his nose. Juliet stiffened, her plastered smile faltering for a second before it returned, brighter than ever.

“Just felt like a change of pace, QZ life isn’t all it’s made out to be,” Juliet replied with a giggle. Joel had never heard her make that noise before, the sound was so foreign to his ears.

Joel felt like punching someone, or worse. Nothing made sense and he couldn’t grasp a plan to get out of this situation. Juliet was in charge here, she pulled the strings. Joel could only watch and wait, gathering as much information about these men while questions swirled in his head.

“And you didn’t think to try and find me?” Blake asked, his voice thick with false hurt as he placed a hand over his heart. “I’m wounded, Juliet. I thought I meant more to you than that,” he continued as he pursed his lips in an exaggerated frown.

Juliet laughed again, and pushed away from Blake while rolling her eyes. “Well, you managed to find me, didn’t you?” she said, subtly putting some space between them with a movement only Joel picked up on.

“Oh and how lucky we were when you walked in here,” Blake chuckled and nodded to his friends. Joel cursed himself for not noticing their presence lurking in the outbuilding before it was too late. He was always too slow, too unobservant. He managed to get Juliet trapped in a dangerous situation with multiple men twice in only a few days. He didn’t even know why Juliet thought he could get her to her dad safely, he couldn’t do anything anymore. He wasn’t the man he once -

Joel’s spiralling thoughts were cut off when one of Blake’s lackeys, either John or Jeremy, moved forward and pushed past Joel to get out the door. Joel’s hand reached out and stopped him from leaving, pulling the man back by the collar of his shirt. Joel pulled up his gun and pressed it to the man’s head. “Nobody leaves,” Joel ordered, a slow breath leaving his mouth as some semblance of control settled over him again.

“Woah,” Blake said as he raised his hands above his head. “There’s no need for that,” he assured Joel, his voice dropping to a darker, more dangerous tone.

Juliet moved in front of Blake and reached her hands out, placing them on his cheeks and focusing his gaze on her. Joel still had his gun pressed against John or Jeremy’s head as the other one trained his gun on him. Juliet leaned closer to Blake, pressing her body against his.

A feeling Joel hadn’t experienced in years invaded his body, forcing his heart rate to pick up and his eyes to narrow on Blake. “Shhhh,” Juliet whispered against Blake’s mouth. “He’s just trying to protect me, that’s what I hired him for.”

Joel winced as a knowing smile radiated across Blake’s face. “Ohhh, now I see,” he responded. “I knew you wouldn’t be into this old man, Juliet” he said with a wink.

Fuck this, Joel thought as a lethal rage exploded in him, the pressure that had been building inside him finally burst and Joel fired a bullet through the man’s head. The second Joel let go of the body, he moved across the room to the other one, dodging the misfired bullets coming his way. Joel grabbed the other man, twisting the gun from his hands and firing his own bullets into his chest.

Joel turned to Blake and Juliet, breathing rough. He had intended to turn his gun on Blake but he'd used those precious seconds to pull Juliet in front of him, plastering her to the front of his body. Juliet gasped, her face locked in an expression of pure terror as Blake’s hands started to roam down her body, a knife now gripped in his hand. Juliet’s lips trembled as her eyes fluttered closed.

“That was very rude,” Blake said, making a tutting noise with his tongue, as his hands continued to roam. “I don’t think you know Juliet like I do,” he murmured while his face pressed against Juliet’s neck, breathing deep.

“We were together for a while, weren’t we Juliet?” Blake asked, tightening his hold on her. Joel strengthened his grip on his gun in response. Blake noticed.

“Found her half dead in the middle of a forest up in Iowa,” Blake continued, as Joel frowned, adding more confusion to the mess inside his head. “God knows what would have happened to her if I hadn’t taken her under my wing,” he whispered into Juliet’s ear.

Joel was desperate to pull the trigger but Blake kept moving his head and, with Juliet’s entire body shielding his, Joel couldn’t get a clear shot. So they were forced to listen to Blake’s sick monologue. Juliet looked like she had checked out, mentally removing herself from the situation. Joel found some comfort in that.

“Don’t worry,” Blake taunted, staring straight into Joel’s eyes. “Juliet repaid me for my kindness.”

Then he smiled. “Many, many times.”

With those words, boasting his sick victory, Joel had heard enough. He moved forward involuntarily, his body making the decision for him, but Blake was faster, he had his blade to Juliet’s throat before Joel could even take a step.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he urged. His blade moving across Juliet’s neck, leaving a small trail of blood in its wake.

Juliet opened her eyes at that moment and met Joel’s. Joel was trembling with rage, it was unbearable watching Juliet suffer in Blake's arms. Joel surprised himself with how protective he felt towards her for more than just the supplies she promised him. Joel remembered her sad eyes when she arrived at the QZ all those years ago and how he watched them fade over time. To see that terror reflected in them again was horrifying.

Joel decided at that moment that Blake would not die quickly or quietly. A sick smile twitched at the corner of Joel’s mouth as his decision washed over him.

Juliet was now focused on Joel and she nodded slowly.

“Blake,” she drawled, her voice lazy. “Come on, it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“Remember how things were between us? It could be like that again,” Juliet said as she stroked her trembling fingers down Blake’s leg.

“You know how grateful I was that you got me to Boston, maybe I could show you how much,” she whispered, her hand tightening on his leg.

Blake smiled and closed his eyes “Fuck,I missed you Juliet,” he breathed, then lowered his knife to turn her around to face him.

Juliet didn’t miss a beat, as soon as the knife was removed from her neck, she launched herself out of his grasp and Joel fired a couple shots into Blake’s torso, purposefully missing any vital organs but ensuring that he was in severe pain.

Blake dropped to the ground with a strangled yell.

Juliet darted to the wall and pressed her back against it, closing her eyes and letting her head rest against the damp plaster. Joel’s gaze roamed over her for a brief second.

“You okay?” he asked in a quick rush, as though the question had desperately pried its way free from his throat. Juliet nodded, not meeting his eyes. Joel didn’t believe that for a second but there wasn’t time to comfort her, not that he even believed he could.

“You want to be here for this?” he asked, his voice hard. Juliet looked down at Blake’s writhing figure on the ground, then nodded again.

Joel moved his gun to his other hand and pulled out his knife, pressing the button to allow the blade to spring free. Then he stalked over to Blake and plunged it into his knee, before ripping it free and driving it into the other one. Blake was completely immobilised as his screams filled the tight space around them.

Joel leaned forward and grabbed Blake’s head, his large hand swallowing his face as Joel squeezed, turning Blake’s gaze to meet his.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” Joel whispered as he brought his face closer to Blake’s, a sick smile fully overtaking his mouth. Then Joel leaned back and plunged his knife repeatedly into Blake’s torso, blood pouring from every wound, bathing Joel’s hands in a dark red.

After Blake’s screams transformed into quiet whimpers, Joel forced his gaze up to Juliet who stared down at him with wide, shock filled eyes. Joel was caught in them, his blade paused over Blake’s body.

There was something more in her stare, he thought she was frightened at first but no. A quiet breath rushed from Joel’s lips when he realised: she was enjoying this too.

Her eyes had darkened in a way he struggled to recognise at first, having not seen it in another’s eyes for so many years.

It was desire, longing.

He held her stare, his body heating in response as he reached his blood soaked hand up to pass Juliet his knife. Joel knelt before her as she walked over to take it from his hand.

It looked like he was worshipping her.

Maybe he was.

Juliet’s fingers grazed Joel’s, the blood that stained his hands tainted her own. She bent down next to Joel and faced Blake, whose eyes had glazed over but quiet moans still escaped his closed lips.

Juliet leaned forward and whispered in Blake's ear, it was too quiet for Joel to hear but Blake’s eyes widened and his mouth opened in a silent gasp. When she was satisfied with her words, Juliet leaned back and smiled down at Blake. Joel watched with a sick satisfaction as Juliet gripped the knife tighter and sliced it across Blake’s throat.

Blood spurted from Blake's neck but Juliet didn’t move away, she let the blood coat her.

When Blake’s gurgling stopped, Joel reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder before moving to help her up.

Joel was speechless, Juliet stood before him covered in blood with a shallow cut wrapped around her throat, yet there was no fear in her eyes anymore, no horror, no pain. There was only that same dark look that almost made Joel drop to his knees again.

Joel reached out and hovered his finger over the wound on Juliet’s neck. Her eyes fell closed as she whispered “It’s fine, Joel.”

Joel nodded, then picked up the gun he had left beside Blake’s dead body and placed it back into his pocket. After another once over of Juliet to ensure there were no hidden injuries, Joel walked over to the wall and grabbed her bag, handing it to her and helping her put it on. Then Joel placed a hand on her elbow and ushered her out of the building.

They walked back towards the gas station without looking at each other. Whatever had passed between them only moments earlier was left behind in that building. Out in the open, Joel forced himself to shift back to his usual act of avoiding eye contact and conversion. But he found that he was hyper aware of Juliet’s body walking next to him, like an electric current now ran between them, sparking every time they got close to each other.

They walked back to the red car where the petrol canister was left, Joel’s head whipping around every second to ensure no one else lurked around any corners. Once they picked up the canister, they made their way back along the road where Joel had parked the truck.

When they reached the truck, Juliet stumbled to a stop, releasing a shocked “shit” under her breath.

The tires were slashed, their supplies were gone.

Joel had left the truck in the open, having only planned to make a quick stop for gas, not to be trapped in a room with Juliet’s old raider friends. Some other group must have come along and spotted it.

An icy calm dropped over Joel, his mind struggled against his rage. He stared at the empty truck in silence, rapidly taking stock of their remaining possessions. They still had their backpacks, which had a bit of food, weapons and ammo in them. They could live on that for a couple days at least.

But all of the cans of food, camping gear, and extra weapons they took from Bill and Frank’s were gone.

Joel felt the pain of their loss all over again, churning in his stomach.

The rain had started, a downpour already thundering down. The blood coating Juliet’s pale skin had started to bead up and roll off of her. Joel was transfixed by the horror that covered her skin.

Joel’s eyes eventually left her neck and lifted to meet her face. That was when he noticed the tears now mingling with the rain as they flowed down her cheeks.

Joel stepped forward without a thought.

“Don’t” he commanded, the word rushed from his lips in a hard whisper.

Gentle was no longer a word in Joel’s vocabulary. The concept itself was extinct, destroyed by the world around them where the crushing weight of survival left no room for fragility. The world, and the people left in it, could now only be described as brutal, violent, rough. But in this moment, as Joel watched those hot tears descend Juliet's smooth cheeks, he wished he could still summon some kind of tenderness or warmth. The urge to touch her, to comfort her in this moment was overwhelming.

No, gentleness was no longer a concept Joel was familiar with, so his command came out rough and hard. Joel urged her, beggedher to stop crying so those feelings which threatened to creep back in could remain dormant.

At the sound of his voice, Juliet stilled. Every part of her body went rigid, her hands balled into fists. Joel suspected she didn’t want him to see her fingers tremble. What she couldn’t hide, however, were the tears which continued to flow from her dark bloodshot eyes in an endless stream, chipping away at her carefully constructed armour.

Juliet tilted her chin upwards, lifting her wet eyelashes to meet his gaze. She gasped, and it came out like a hiccup.

Something inside Joel fractured at the sound.

He reached two fingers across the gap between them and wiped a hot tear from her cheek. Joel watched as Juliet’s eyes widened. He pulled his hand back as though the tear had burned him.

Joel paused, his mouth falling open slightly as shock pulsed through his body. He lifted his hand to inspect the tear now glistening on his thumb and forefinger before it was washed away by the heavy rain. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes darkened. The evidence of her sorrow on his hardened, calloused skin had weakened him. Joel felt his walls build up again as he turned away from Juliet, whipping his head around to try and figure out which direction they should head in, now that they were walking.

“Joel,” Juliet released his name in a breathy whisper as she reached for his hand.

Joel pulled his hand back instantly, not allowing his skin to touch Juliet's again. He couldn’t risk that electricity running between them to spark.

Joel did allow one emotion to seep through, however. Anger swallowed him, a fierce terrible blaze had lit within him when he walked into that building and spotted Juliet pinned against the wall. What Blake had tried to do to her, what he diddo to her, clouded his vision.

Joel was choked by his fury.

He turned to Juliet but didn’t meet her eyes. “We’ll get through this,” he said, his voice as soft as he could manage in that moment.

“I know,” Juliet replied instantly, her faith in him unwavering. It suffocated him.

The desire to look at her was crushing. Joel didn’t know what to do with the intense protectiveness he felt towards her. She was cargo, he reminded himself, she was a ticket to supplies and a pathway straight to his brother.

She was nothing more. Any feelings of protectiveness were inherently selfish, as his actions always were these days.

---------------------------------------------------------

@ilovemybrown-eyedbabygirl @amyispxnk

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x original character #joel miller x female oc #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller hbo #joel miller x oc #ao3 fanfic #tlou hbo #tlou #tlou fic #Spotify #pedro pascal

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Note

Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey Love! How are you?

I'm going around to my favorite writers to ask this question, because I'm really curious on what you're thinking.

When you're writing Smut and you say the guy has a big dick what size are you imagining, length and width?

I am good! Thank you ❤️❤️❤️. I hope you are too! I personally think of it as at least long enough to stack both hands wrapped around just the shaft (tip sticking out on top) and thick enough that your thumb can't meet a finger when you wrap your hand around it.

As for the measurements, here are some HCs I've previously done of dick sizes and characteristics, basically just making the point that the Joels are different.

🍆👇🍆

Dick Headcanons, key word HEAD 😏

Night Walks - 19 cm (7.5") base to tip erect, and on the girthier end of average. Just barely curved upward for your pleasure. He's a shower not a grower. Tan, smooth. Huge balls. Hair still mostly dark, not much gray down there. Better groomed than you might expect - he's kinda vain.

Raider - 20 cm (8”). Proportional girth. Bulbous - middle is slightly thicker than tip and base. Kind of duo-toned, pink and tan, tip is pink. Shower and a grower. Balls on the larger side. Black, ungroomed hair. Relatively veiny.

Free Use - 17 cm (6.7”). Thick. Pale shaft, pink tip, tip is not much girthier than shaft. Grower. Proportional balls. Straight, almost geometric due to the pattern of veins. Black hair that he keeps trimmed but not closely shaven or manscaped.

Stepdad - 17 cm (6.7”). Thick. Upward curve. Shower. Proportional balls. Pink with darker pink tip. Salt and pepper hair, mostly pepper. Long tip. Symmetrical but not much personality, looks kind of like a dildo. Occasionally shaves completely, furthering the effect.

Trouble 18 cm (7”), one of the girthiest Joels, slightly tapered, couple of nice veins, prominent tip (the size of a lime according to Just the Tip). Somewhat of a grower. Proportional balls. On the pinker side, tip slightly darker. Neatly manscaped salt and pepper hair.

Speakeasy 19 cm (7.5") tan with pinker tip that's long but close to the same girth as his shaft, he's a grower, just barely curved upward, relatively veiny. Decently groomed, pubic hair is darker than the hair on his head.

*NEW*

Lincoln (cannot compute length) - Tip comes to his belly button in the very graphic slouching visual i have in my head, idk how to translate that length and don't wanna sell him short (or long). Tan, 4 or 5 bluish veins but not thick ones. Perhaps in the top half of Joels in length, but the bottom third in girth if measured mid-shaft (base is thicker). Tip on the narrower side. Shaft curves upward toward his body but not to an extreme. Hair is mostly dark gray, well kempt.

editing to add:

Thighs Out - 17 cm (6.7"), light pinkish tan shaft, pink tip, well groomed, brown hair, not very veiny, moderate to hefty girth. It is a very good looking dick and he's a shower. It's warm and smooth and he gets sooooo hard. Balls: Moderate to large, not as saggy as you'd expect for his age! And not very hairy

Brat Tamer / Big Daddy - 20 cm (7.9") base to shaft, the tip is almost the size of a tennis ball in volume (like if you molded it into a cockhead shape). Tan shaft, purple-ish tan tip. Bluish veins that don't protrude much. Large balls that hang low. Hair is dark with a touch of gray. Manscapes because it makes him look even bigger. He's a shower, which given his size means he has a nice bulge even when he's not hard.

Slasher Joel 18.5 cm (7.3"). Very girthy, can't wrap your hand around it. Looks thick even in his big manly hand. Tan, but flushes angry red when rock hard. Tip is proportional to shaft. Prominent dorsal vein, otherwise not very veiny. Hairy, does not shave or manscape, but has good hygeine. He's a grower, and the growth is a barometer of his himbo status. Huge, heavy balls.

You can HC them however you want though. Also your dick doesn't have to be this big to be big IRL, and it doesn't have to be big at all to be more than enough.

#dick size #ask #jazzie

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rise-my-angel · 1 year

Text

One Last Drink

Pairing: Ezra x Female Reader

Length: 15.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, who to look out for more specifically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ezra.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Panicked how.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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