My dearest loves, this is nothing but loving smut and it starts immediately. Obviously I have warnings about being 18+ everywhere on my blog but we’re going to reiterate for this chapter! There’s some kissing, oral sex (both m and f receiving), unprotected p in v and exploration of some (hopefully) interesting differences between their physicalities….we also flip back and forth between perspectives here for the first time.
I have tried to be mindful of not attributing many physical characteristics to “her” beyond the fact that she has hair and is a cis woman. This continues here.
My dearest loves, this is nothing but loving smut and it starts immediately. Obviously I have warnings about being 18+ everywhere on my blog but we’re going to reiterate for this chapter! There’s some kissing, oral sex (both m and f receiving), unprotected p in v and exploration of some (hopefully) interesting differences between their physicalities….we also flip back and forth between perspectives here for the first time.
I have tried to be mindful of not attributing many physical characteristics to “her” beyond the fact that she has hair and is a cis woman. This continues here.
Word count 4.7k
Starman
Chapter Fifteen
Earthling/Starman
She had barely kicked the door to her bedroom shut before she was dragging the material of his t shirt up and over his head, the static electricity catching at his curls and pulling them unnaturally upward in a false display of anti gravity. The tension between them was taut and thrumming, a culmination of desire and deferral and desperation. She all but hurled herself at him, and he caught her easily - his lips meeting hers perfectly and his arm slipping around her waist and up her back, using her own momentum to pull her near and press her close. Her hands were on his chest, sliding up his neck to come to rest in his curls, her fingers tangling in them as she pressed his lips upon hers even more forcefully and swallowing his groan of bliss.
The feeling of purest craving between them was sharp, an edge of delicious biting that cut through the haze of decadent, dizzying, mellow love and made them feel as if they were soaring. Their bodies sought the other, instinctively feeling toward the sheer rightness of being so close together. One of her hands left him and he felt it as a momentary echoing, gaping loss. And then he realised that she was pulling at her clothes, the buttons on her trousers already undone and more of her skin unveiled to him. He shoved his hand at the coarse fabric, helping to push it over the swell of her backside and delighting in the unexplored soft expanse under his fingertips. She sighed into his mouth at his touch, wriggled her hips until the trousers fell from her to pool at her feet. It was a movement that he found simultaneously adorable and immensely arousing. She continued to fumble at the fabric on her body and suddenly her underwear also fell unceremoniously to the floor. He found his thoughts warring with themselves. To break the kiss and to drink in the sight of her, or to hold her tight and continue to run his tongue over hers, to capture her lower lip between his teeth…The need for oxygen decided for him and he pressed his forehead against hers briefly as their breath mingled in the small space between them.
She stepped backward, allowing him to see, inviting him to watch. She was perfect, every inch of her heavenly, and he found that even though he now had the space to take a breath in he didn’t feel that he could, struck as he was by finally seeing more of her body bared to him. She looked into his eyes and held his gaze as she removed her top and her remaining undergarment and finally there she stood - naked, wanting, all for him. She was unashamed and unabashed and he could see the fire within her eyes burn hotter as she watched him watch her and ravage her without touch. She said something that he barely heard over her nakedness crowding his senses and blinked stupidly at her words, his brain too slow to catch their meaning. It was only then that he realised that they had left the translator on the couch, everything except they two quite forgotten about and unimportant in the moment. She seemed to come to the same realisation and her smile was somehow both soft and rapacious as she stepped forward to undress him too, her eyes greedily roving his body and face as she did. He was hard already, had been so since she had straddled him downstairs, since the thrumming pull between them had finally snapped and tipped into deed, since he had felt the now-familiar yet still thrilling zip and tingle of electricity as they touched and allowed his most primal desires to come to the forefront. Touch her, taste her, love her.
Lunging forward, she kissed him again, a harsh and desperate meeting of their mouths as she dragged his trousers off, silently praising the delay in delivery that meant that the underwear that she had bought him online had still not arrived. The hard muscle and warmth of his thighs met her hand as she tugged downward at his clothes, and her fingers immediately slid back upward to cup him, to run her fingers softly up the velvety skin of the underside of his length. He juddered, his cock twitching as his breath caught in his chest at her touch and he pushed himself closer to her, his own hand coming up to grasp at the swell of her breast, her nipple skating over the dry warmth of his large palm. She ran her thumb over the head of his cock, rubbing the wet stickiness down his shaft to begin slowly and firmly stroking him. She wanted to hear every groan, every tiny exhalation of breath, every word that he uttered even if she couldn’t understand them and she pressed her forehead against his own and looked downward to watch herself pleasure him. The glistening, reddened tip of his cock was disappearing in and out of her fist as she moved and he simultaneously fucked himself gently into her hand and the warmth of his lips ghosted over her ear and neck, his breath tickling hot against her skin as he moaned her name. Suddenly she was moving backward as he crowded her against the door, the coolness of the wood at her back a sharp contrast to the heat of his body against hers.
“I love you,” he murmured in breathy, broken syllables against her skin. “Kevva, I love you.”
Before she could respond his hand was upon hers, gently moving it from him. She gave an unintentional whine at the loss of contact and the needy little noise served to quirk his lips into a brief grin before he was on his knees before her, mouthing greedily at the skin of her breast until he took her nipple into his mouth. He could feel her trembling already at the sensations his attentions had bestowed, and he slipped his fingers down over her chest, capturing her other nipple and sliding it between his fingers as he twisted his tongue at the same time. Her skin was divine, soft and smelling of sweetness and something indefinable that was purely her own. His markings on his arm and back pulsated in time with his increased heartbeat and he was extremely aware of his cock too, now neglected and swollen between his legs. But he could wait. He wanted to hear her come, wanted to tease those feelings from her with his tongue and his fingers before he slid inside of her, wanted to see her face as he made her fall apart.
His hand progressed downward, the friction of his fingertips over her torso increased by a thin sheen of sweat. Not just because he was more aroused than he remembered being in a very long time, but also due to the slight itch of nervousness still present in the back of his mind, the desire to lose himself in her pleasure warring with the fact that he had never done this with a mate before. Would it be different than what he had known? For them both? Was the act as he knew it the same for her? They had certainly begun the right way judging by how her hand was once again tangled in his hair and she was pressing him ever tighter against her breast. His fingers drifted further down her body, mindful of her ticklish spots and her navel before he stroked over the wiry curls of her mound and over the smooth expanse of her thigh. He looked up at her and found her bright, beautiful eyes trained on his, saw the waves of desire and pleasure within them.
His eyes were breathtaking, dark pits of love and lust that swallowed her whole as his tongue lapped over her nipple. It had been so long since someone other than her own self had touched her in this way, had been even longer since she felt adoration of this kind and intensity while they had. He murmured something in between kisses that smeared his saliva over her chest, between swapping one nipple for another and beginning to lavish attention there as well. She couldn’t understand him, but his hand was stroking down the muscle of her thigh and back up, goosebumps appearing upon her in its wake. She moved her feet further apart and opened up to him, more from her own unconscious desire to do so than because she thought that was what he was asking, but he hummed in gratification nonetheless and she held his gaze as she felt one thick finger breach her. The noise her body made as she accepted him would have been embarrassing if she had felt any less comfortable in his presence, if she had cared about anything else except this moment right here. She was so wet, so utterly ready for all of him and all he would give, and as he gently rocked his hand into her she gasped his name, her voice unrecogniseable to herself in its whining cadence of desperation.
She was so close already, so ready to let go and have him take care of her. A second finger joined the first and she clenched around him as he pressed deeply within her and moved over something truly wonderful, a place she herself could never reach, that so few ever had. Her orgasm was building, progressing swiftly, but in a different way than she had ever felt before. The tingling crackle between them seemed to be focused on that spot between his fingers and her, and the thought briefly flitted through her mind that he was intentionally makingthat happen before she was suddenly, unexpectedly coming around him, the syllables of his name falling from her lips as her knees shook and her body shuddered against the door. That was…not usual. Not for her. She always needed clitoral stimulation. She had come close without it on occasion, but she always needed that little push over the edge. That he had wrought this was astonishing in the best kind of way and she rested her head against the wood behind her, breathless and full of love and the embers of her glow.
He withdrew, and immediately sucked his fingers, eyes closed and lost in the decadence of experiencing her in this way. The purest nectar flowed from this woman. Her arousal was sweet and salt and opulence and he wanted to lap right from the source. The blissed out satiety on her face was everything he had dreamed and as he stood and took her hand, drew her gently to him to kiss her and shared the taste he was already insatiable for, his hot, thick cock pressed against her stomach and spread his own arousal over her skin, the slight pressure and friction of the movement providing a very brief moment of respite. He pulled her toward the bed, his mind full of visions of her spread out, a banquet, a bouquet all for him. She let him lead her, seemed a little dazed by what had just transpired and just a hint of smugness touched his lips as he spun her gently and pushed her down on to the bed. He stood over her for a moment, allowing his gaze to rake up her body and meet her eyes, where he saw the same hunger he felt reflected back at him. Before he had a chance to do anything else she sat up and kissed the tip of his cock, chastely to begin with, as chaste as such an action can be, and then…the warmth of her breath making him shiver as she slowly kissed all the way down his length and up again. A curse fell from his lips as he resisted the urge to cant his hips forward in search of that exquisite mouth and instead let her do what she would with him. Her lips, so softly sweet and now mouthing gently at the head of him, her tongue brushing feather-light licks against his cock and now travelling down, down the underside, following the ridge of a vein until -
Kevva above, he had to fight not to come there and then, and the thought of her pretty face covered in him made it decidedly more difficult to resist doing just that. The heat of her mouth had enveloped him, soft and firm and wet all at the same time and he resisted every urge in his body to move, not wanting to hurt her, not wanting to overwhelm. But she was still going, still taking him, and now he could feel himself hitting the back of her throat and the squeeze of her swallowing around him. He realised he had closed his eyes in deepest rapture and now they snapped open and he focused on her again, her eyes big and round and full of a smugness of her own at the sound of a shuddering whimper he now recognised as coming from his throat. Her hands had come to curl around his thighs, fingers digging into his flesh and she pulled him even closer, deeper, down to the root of him, her nose buried in the hair at his groin.
He couldn’t…he mustn’t…It might be too overwhelming for her…
He brought his hand to her jaw and cradled her face before gently pulling himself backward. She understood at once and released him, the slightly panicked questioning in her eyes a barb to his heart. She thought she had done something wrong when nothing could be further from the truth. He gazed at her and smiled his joy, trying to communicate without words that he just wanted to pay attention to her right now. And so he bent down and kissed her again, softly stroking the hair back from her face as he did so. He felt her relax into the kiss, felt her tension leave her once again.
She allowed him to push her gently back on to the bed and begin to manoeuvre her. First he put one leg on the mattress and then the other, and she teased him by keeping her legs together as he did so. He kissed the hard bone of her kneecaps, kissed a path down her shins until he was kneeling down again, a supplicant before her. But of course now she couldn’t see him. Unacceptable. She felt only a little shyness as she parted her legs and allowed him to see her fully, revelling in the utter devotion she could see written upon his face.
Silence.
Further silence.
A creeping doubt began to worry at her. Why was he so still? Why had he stopped touching her? She sat up a little way to take a better look, bracing herself on her elbows to do so.
Ezra had been prepared for the possibility of differences, but he hadn’t quite anticipated what he might do when actually faced with one. Her face suddenly came into view fully, embarrassed apprehension written all over her features. He didn’t want her to feel as if he didn’t desire her because quite frankly he had never been this hard in his life, with or without chemical aid. But he didn’t quite understand what he was looking at and he didn’t want to hurt her or do anything wrong. He slid his hand under one of hers and interlocked their fingers. His eyes begged her for guidance as he moved their hands, and she sat up fully, moving with the motion he was encouraging.
What was he doing? He had seemed so sure of everything just a second ago and now…But she could see the markings on his arm, swirling eddies of rainbow colour sliding over the patterns there, could see him jutting upward still thick and leaking for her. His continuing desire was evident in so many ways. So what was…ah. She had been caught out - so wrapped up in what they were doing and finally seeing all of him and having him so close and exactly where she wanted that she had totally forgotten that they were not of the same world. Even his smooth stomach wasn’t a shock anymore. It was just…Ezra. Another part of him that she loved. And everything else seemed pretty much what she was used to…even though he was blessed by any Earth standard. She sat up fully and cradled his face with her free hand, kissing him to reassure him that she understood. Or thought she did. She leant backward once again and opened herself wider to him as her hand wandered the familiar path down her body to where her clit was ready and aching, bringing him along with her.
He could feel her fingers performing a delicate, circular dance upon that part of her anatomy that was unfamiliar to him. The effect was near-instantaneous. Her breathing increased and a sighing moan escaped her as her eyes fluttered shut. He brought his hand back down to his thigh, to allow her space and the better to see what she was doing. He was fascinated - by her beauty, the slick arousal leaking from her and beginning to drip on to the bed, by the movement of her fingers, by the fact that at least one of her pleasure centres seemed to be on the outside of her body. He stared, transfixed by the sublime sight of her playing with herself and squeezed his cock hard just once, just to obtain a small measure of the same. He had an overwhelming urge…
Her pleasure spiked harshly as she felt his teeth graze the inside of her knee. The edge was welcome, needed. With him so close she wanted him to be doing this to her, wanted hismouth,hisfingers,his body. He kissed further up her thigh and bit a little more insistently as he did so. The tiny vein of pain was delicious and she uttered her own curse as she felt it seep into her body, mingling with her gratification and enhancing it, pushing her closer to the edge again.
As he began to kiss over her fingers she stilled her movement. He nudged her hand out of the way, the beautiful prominence of his nose making her shiver deliciously as it brushed over her clit. He inhaled her, breathed her in. Again. Again. Before the wet, strong heat of his tongue licked a tentative stripe where she had been touching herself and she instinctively clutched at his curls, not wanting him to go anywhere except where he already was. He made a noise of satisfaction and his tongue curled and twisted around her, mimicking the movements he had seen her make with her fingers mere seconds before. God, it was incredible. The fog of his breath against her, the hum of desire that vibrated through her core, the breach of his fingers yet again…
Kevva, this was incredible. He had tasted women here before of course, but his tongue had always worked directly in tandem with his hand inside to enhance their pleasures as his fingers brushed soft electrical impulses within them. Now it was like two different movements, but ones that still worked together seamlessly, once he had gotten the hang of it. She was helping him by rolling her hips softly, guiding him in the rhythm she wanted, her voice percolating into his consciousness and through him as she gasped out, her moans ever louder. She was close again, evidenced by the tension around his fingers, the increasing wetness decorating his mouth and chin. Her eyes were closed, her brow furrowed, one hand was in his hair and the other fisting the sheets beside her. And then-
The rush and sparks of light behind her eyes swept her through the galaxy on a wave of joy and love and intensity. Her back arched off the mattress, voice strong and powerful as she cried her pleasure to the ceiling, calling out Ezra’s name in gratitude and wonder as he worked her through. Her body was awash, every nerve ending aflame and all she could do was hang on and accept the crushing beauty of the ferocity of her body’s response to him. He was perfect. Fuck, he was everything-
Her face was seared upon him forevermore in that moment - the slight frown, the sheen of sweat on her brow, her mouth open and gasping his name over and over. And then she opened her eyes to look down at him nestled between her legs and the savage joy and desire he saw within could have seen him through a hundred lifetimes in the Glasshouse.
She had barely stopped coming before she was pulling him up and rolling in one smooth motion so he was underneath her, kissing him ferociously, tasting herself on his tongue. The overwhelming need was to be as close as she could possibly be to him, to feel him buried deep inside of her and to see his eyes spark full of ecstasy. The golden glow of her orgasm was still thrumming through her, already combining with another wave of impossible exhilaration - feeling the coarse hair at his thighs rubbing against the softness of hers, his thumb back at her nipple, the thick heft of his cock underneath her, wet with a combination of her saliva and their arousal, the thrumming tingle between them, it all came together to pool in the pit of her stomach in a series of sharp jolts, and she briefly wondered if she had stopped coming - if somehow his presence had prolonged her pleasure, coaxing it out over time. She needed him. Now.
She grasped his cock and positioned herself over it. The dual sensations of seeing her head thrown back in pleasure, her mouth falling open at feeling him breach her, along with the grip of her slick, tight heat around him was too much. He was barely sheathed inside when he felt his back crackle, the tension and warmth and bliss travelling down his spine and tightening before he was swelling, growing larger within and pulsing as he filled her. Ragged, desperate groans of her name accompanied his orgasm and he sat up to kiss his way over her chest and neck and lips and -
Something was wrong. Emotions heightened as they were between them at this moment, he could feel it seeping from her, though she was doing her best to conceal it. A touch of disappointment. Mixed with a little pity. Bitter emotions that made him draw back, look at her in puzzlement. Was this not what she had been expecting? Had he done something wrong? His aural translator had been of less use in the face of the communication they had established, but it seemed had been quietly picking up more and more of her language, adapting to the greater reams of speech that had flowed between them because he understood her next whispered words very well.
“I love you Ezra. Its okay. Its a lot for me too.”
What did she mean? It was overwhelming, yes. But in the best possible way. Did she want him to stop? Did she -
His thoughts were arrested by the feeling of her soft lips upon his, her tongue gently probing into his mouth. All else was wiped from his mind as he responded. Her hips canted forward, still seeking him, still wanting, and now he could feel her desire too. He thrust upward gently, a tentative movement to ensure that this was indeed still what she wanted. She moaned softly into his mouth and he moved more strongly, a little faster. She drew back a little to look at him and the amazement and creeping astonished joy on her face was the most magnificent thing he had ever seen.
“Are you…can you keep going? After you’ve already…” she asked, an awed tremor to her voice.
Ezra raised an eyebrow and smirked against her lips as he crushed them to his. Well…apparently here was a very interesting distinction. One he intended to take full advantage of.
His hand slid around her waist and up her back as he began to fuck up into her and she did not have words for how good he felt. She hadn’t minded when he had come so quickly - after all he had made her come twice and she had teased him with her mouth and hands, and God knows how long it had been for him…But it seemed as though his refractory period either didn’t exist, or extended past one orgasm. Either way, he was here, with her, all around her - her hands tangled in his hair, his teeth biting gently at her jaw and earlobe and the pulse in her neck as they established their rhythm together and fuck if that wasn’t the best fucking feeling in the whole universe. Him sliding within her, passing over that point deep inside where sensation coalesced, grew to be something huge and overpowering and he wasn’t stopping, wasn’t allowing her a single moment to breathe or appraise the situation, his love and his scent and his strength surrounded her to reach deep inside and pull the most primal feelings from her. She moaned his name against his cheek in a sloppy kiss, the sound almost a growl as she kicked up her rhythm, her body responding to his desperately and greedily
He felt her clench around him, her body taut as her pleasure peaked and he worked her through it, felt the ripples of her orgasm as her body tried to pull him deeper inside. He carefully flipped her over so that she was underneath him, breathless, glassy eyed, exhausted and the most gorgeous vision he had ever had the privilege of witnessing. He rolled his hips into her and she held on to his shoulders, somehow simultaneously clinging to him and helping to hold him up above her. Her legs were hooked over his and she met him thrust for thrust. Insatiable. Beautiful. His. He looked down at where their bodies met, transfixed by the sight of himself disappearing into her over and over, his cock emerging slicker with every stroke, the hair at his groin messily beautiful with her. He wanted to go slow, wanted it to never, ever end but his body was so demanding, so covetous of hers and he could already feel his spine begin to tingle once more.
He glanced up and even though her head was tilted back he could see the wonderment upon her face and the love he felt for her surged through him again. His muscles and tendons and bones and skin were on fire - electricity crackling through him and burning to nothing everything that had been so terrible in his life in its wake. There was her, only her and she was with him and around him and in him, and Kevva almighty he had never felt as saturated with pleasure as he was at this moment. He kissed over the ruddy flush on her chest before pressing his mouth to her nipple, and her gasp of delight and the rocking of her hips against him tore a guttural, hoarse cry from deep within his chest as he pushed himself deeply into her over and over, again and again.
She felt him come again and he burned so bright in her mind and in her body…her body…it seemed to respond directly to him now. There were no thoughts from her, no direction or commands she could issue. She came with him, a final gentle crowning of pleasure from her exhausted body, as if he had demanded her satisfaction descend from whatever gods were in the heavens. His back was flaring - electric blue along the curve of his spine and bright, bright white from his markings. They formed a galaxy on her ceiling, the stars themselves come to witness their love and give their blessing. She was so full of him, in every way. In her mind and her eyes and her hands and her heart she was full of him. He leant on to his elbow, half collapsed on top of her, and she kissed his brow, little caring that he was as sweaty and breathless as she.
He gazed down at her with purest adoration, still surrounded by her, as deeply buried within the divinity of her body as she was within his heart. She. His eternal life and love.
Starman Chapter Fourteen. Whewwww it has been a journey my friends. And we are starting to see the glimmers of the end. Warnings for patriarchal nonsense and gross sexism and misogyny, murder, incarceration, self harm, one mention of abortion, one mention of rapists, one mention of cannibalism, one mention of torture, extreme age gap marriage and subsequent pregnancy, death, some religious discussion.
I cannot put into words how in love I am with this work of yours. It’s absolutely incredible, the depth of Ezra’s backstory is astounding, the way you describe everything? I can see it, smell it, hear the cries of his cell mates. I BOW TO YOU AND YOUR GLORIOUS FIC.
Thank you so much I’m so glad you found your way to this fic and are enjoying it so much!
Starman Chapter Fourteen. Whewwww it has been a journey my friends. And we are starting to see the glimmers of the end. Warnings for patriarchal nonsense and gross sexism and misogyny, murder, incarceration, self harm, one mention of abortion, one mention of rapists, one mention of cannibalism, one mention of torture, extreme age gap marriage and subsequent pregnancy, death, some religious discussion.
I had to sit and process and take a break after I read this–-what a chapter. What an experiencereading this. What a fic!! You should feel so proud for crafting this world, and crafting such an Ezra!
Thank you so, so much my lovely! You have always been one of my staunchest champions of this fic and I don’t think it would be where it is today without your support!
Obviously a lot of fiction is rooted in the experiences of the author and I have always been personally inclined to solitude. I can find people overwhelming a lot of the time and I wanted to bring a sense of peace through solitude into this work. And to try and touch on the fact that even though these two are soulmates, they are also rounded and complete people by themselves. The other person does not complete them, rather they make everything just that much better, deeper, stronger, more beautiful. I have also been so alone and felt the pain of it when you do need someone to understand and to lean on and they’re simply not there and what you have to go through to try to retain your mental stability in those cases.
We do indeed have a little thing to come about Ezra’s hair and all I’ll say about Rien is that his name is not done in this fic yet!
Okay so this is a week late and I am sorry. But I hope you’re all ready for a little light spiciness as well as some weird stuff! I tend to dream very vividly and sometimes I open my eyes before I’ve finished and let me tell you it’s trippy.
Warnings for lots and lots of kissing, sexual touching and flirting. Words 6.5k.
I have also had Dieter-as-Ezra in my head for ✨the look✨ I am thinking of for him right now.
This chapter was such a sweet little reprieve! I just adore every moment of delayed translator communication, it’s such a unique element of their connection with endless possibilities…
Ahhhh thank you! I wanted poor Ezra to have a break from reliving his trauma and also to know that she won’t be going anywhere!
I had an image of Ezra when he’s standing in the door to the bathroom all sleepy and stuff and it kinda looked like this in my head
(except with white hair).
And then when they’re chilling on the beach and he’s got his shades it reminded me of this
(except with white hair. )
In my mind’s eye Ezra’s hair is all floofy and grown out like Dieter’s so I kind of have him as a frame of reference in my head. I still have plans for Ezra’s hair. I didn’t give him the scar but he will definitely be getting his streak!
I feel we as a collective don’t talk enough about how much of a goddamn badass Ezra was at the end of Prospect. Like yes this man has been having a very bad day up to this point and he clearly prefers to talk his way out of a situation if he can, but he takes down the merc leader, Mikken (who is significantly larger than him), so goddamn fast and he does it one-handed, then proceeds to steady aim and take out a second merc at the throat with the last shot in Mikken’s thrower.
And this is Ezra after a mutiny, being stranded for god knows how long, getting shot, getting deathly ill from infection, and having his good arm amputated.
If this is what he’s capable of on a badday, what the fuck could that man do on a goodday?
please scroll to the end to “content” if you would like to know specific smut-related content before reading!
–
When you emerged from the shower, you changed into your long sleep shirt (the thing was far too old and ratty at this point to be considered a “nightgown”). Even though it wasn’t dark out yet, you figured you might as well go to bed at the rate this day was going.
As you slowly crept through the tent partition, you noticed that Ezra was gone—and so was his gear.
You found a note in Ezra’s barely-legible scrawl placed at the foot of your bed.
“Starstone quality check,” you mumbled, reading the note aloud.
Starstone was so finicky that it was necessary to check up on it in storage to make sure it maintained its stability. But you knew in your gut he was avoiding you. While he was out, you cleaned the filters and checked the tanks like you always did—minus the filter and tank that Ezra was currently using—the methodical work helping soothe your nerves a little.
When Ezra came back in, you were sitting up in bed, reading the book Ezra’s kid Cee had hand-written (“She didn’t come up with the story, but she basically rewrote the whole damn thing herself. Smarter than she knows, that kid.”). It wasn’t your usual kind of story, and not even your usual medium of consumption (you preferred late-night radio dramas, but they broadcast from the Ephrate—the signal was spotty at best in the Fringes and nonexistent here in the Reach), but it was captivating nonetheless.
You didn’t look up from the book as Ezra walked in. Neither of you said a word.
Part of you was relieved that you didn’t talk about it.
The other part of you wasdesperateto talk about it.
–
The next morning, you woke to Ezra sitting at his makeshift desk—a chair set in front of an old wooden shipping crate—swirling together the starstone enzyme bath. He was wearing a pair of boxer shorts and a gray t-shirt, his hair already matted with perspiration from the heat.
You grumbled and slowly sat up.
“Mornin’, sunshine,” Ezra said, not lifting his eyes from his work.
“Mmph,” was your sleepy response.
“Oats are ready if you have a hankering,” he continued, gesturing with his head towards the “kitchen”—another wooden shipping crate, this one with a battery-operated stove placed on top.
You were suddenly veryawake at the promise of food. “Please tell me there’s coffee, too.”
“Haven’t made it yet,” he replied. “Go easy on the stuff, you’ve drunk near all my supply.”
“I believe food and board is included in my contract.” You yawned before shuffling your way over to the stove.
“Foodand board, sweetheart, not drink.” Ezra held the canister of freshly mixed enzyme solution between his knees as he twisted on the cap with his hand.
Your stomach rumbled and you eagerly grabbed your bowl of oatmeal. After wolfing down your breakfast, you filled Ezra’s rickety kettle with water and set it on the stove, turning the power up to high. You pawed around the mismatched collection of canteens piled next to the stove until you found two clean ones and set them out, along with four packets of powdered coffee (three for you, one for Ezra). It was the instant stuff anyone could grab for cheap at a shuttle station, and it tasted wretched, but it did its job.
As you waited for the water to boil—not long when the water in storage was already warm thanks to this planet’s heat—You heard Ezra stand up and approach you. When you felt his hand brush the small of your back, you shivered.
Ezra huffed. “Are you cold? For cryin’ out loud, woman, it’s hotter’n two channel-rats fuckin’ in a wool sock.”
“Must be caffeine withdrawal,” you lied, knowing full well it was Ezra’s touch.
He rubbed his thumb back and forth and you nearly shivered again. “I suppose it’s high time I replenish our supplies,” he said, “lest you pillage the remainder of my coffee.”
When the kettle began to whistle, you switched off the stove and poured equal amounts of hot water into the cups—and unequal amounts of coffee packets. All the while, Ezra’s hand stayed on your back.
“Speaking of supplies, we could use another full O2 tank,” you said, trying your best to ignore how your stomach did somersaults every time Ezra absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against the material of your sleep shirt, “and coolant for the air circulators.”
“I’m well aware,” Ezra said, “but thank you kindly for the reminder.”
You offered Ezra his canteen of coffee. You mourned the loss of his hand on your back, but feeling the brush of his fingers against yours as you handed him his cup was nearly as electrifying.
“S’posin’ we pull a good haul of starstone today, I can ready the pod for the shuttle station tomorrow,” he said between sips. “Be back within a couple days’ time.”
You swallowed down a lump in your throat along with your coffee. You did need supplies, but it was hardly urgent—was he really that keen on avoiding you? But the way he just touched your back—he’d never been more intimate than friendly pats on the shoulder before—
“The shuttle station gets a clearer radio signal to the Ephrate,” Ezra continued, “I can have a good an’ proper talk with Cee.”
Oh. He wants to talk to his kid, you moron. Why did you make this about yourself and your ill-timed masturbatory ventures?
“I’ll hold down the fort, then,” you said between gulps of your coffee.
“I’m countin’ on it,” Ezra said. “Now let’s score some stone afore this bitch of a planet bakes us alive.”
–
Ezra was gone before you woke, but you had expected it. He told you as much last night. But you still couldn’t shake the notion that he was avoiding you. You sighed deeply before untangling yourself from the bedsheets and crawling over to make your morning coffee.
On the table, the kettle was already set out on the stovetop, along with three coffee packets, a clean canteen, and a note from Ezra.
“Radio at 21:00,” you mumbled. That was tonight—so he was planning to call you as soon as he got in. You couldn’t help but smile as you made your coffee.
You didn’t have to mine today or tomorrow, thanks to working double-time yesterday (and your aching muscles certainly reminded you of that), but there was still plenty to do around the tent. After gulping down your coffee, you started with the pile of laundry in the corner. It was the most urgent order of business, based on how it was beginning to climb up the wall—and how much it stunk. You filled a basin with water and soap and got to work.
While hanging the garments to dry, you noticed a pair of Ezra’s compression pants had a tear in the thigh—thankfully, it was on a side seam, so you could easily sew it shut. You noted to fix it as soon as it was finished drying. You wondered if you could mend anything else, noting Ezra’s ratty assortment of boxers and briefs. If he made any cash in the aurelac rush, he certainly didn’t spend any of it on underwear. You could mend holes, but you couldn’t work miracles.
As you waited for the clothes to dry, you snacked on a ration bar and read more of Cee’s book. You were invested in the characters now, despite your initial skepticism of the subject matter. You had to admit, it was a bit of a page-turner. After a while, you didn’t want to put it down. You moved from sitting at Ezra’s desk to leaning against one of the tent supports to laying on your bed mat, your eyes glued to the page.
When you finally came to a satisfying enough chapter to pause your reading, you looked around for a piece of scrap paper to mark your place. You picked up Ezra’s note and tucked it inside the pages before shutting the book. You noticed the laundry hanging up was dry—had you really been reading that long? Oh well. Time to get mending.
–
You had mended Ezra’s pants, a pair of his socks, and were about to sew a button back on the pocket of your suit when you heard your name crackle from the radio headset in the corner. Startled, you dropped your work, the button skittering across the floor.
“Gimme a minute!” You shouted, hoping your headset would pick it up from across the tent. You quickly found the runaway button and placed it on Ezra’s desk before scrambling to your side of the tent to put on your headset.
“Sorry about that,” you said, “I’m here. You get in okay?”
“All in one piece,” came Ezra’s voice in your ear, “give or take an arm.”
You rolled your eyes at Ezra’s wisecrack. “Talk to Cee yet?”
“Not yet,” Ezra said, “with the time difference between here and the Ephrate, she’s still in class. I shan’t interrupt her studies.”
You looked at the book where it lay on Ezra’s desk and smiled. “Well, when you call her, tell her I said hello.”
“Will do.”
“So, what station did you end up at?” You asked.
“Trinity,” Ezra replied.
“Trinity,” you said, “don’t think I’ve been on Trinity since the rush.”
“Ain’t any different,” Ezra said, “still got egregious docking fees and an abundance of unpleasant company.”
“Already shooed away a pick-pocket busker, haven’t you?”
“Several,” Ezra grumbled, “Damn this stump, they think I’m an easy target.”
“Were any of them good players, at least?” You asked.
“Truthfully, the boy on the panpipes was a talented little devil,” he said, “both in playing his instrument and his victims. I let him pilfer a coin from my pocket—I fancy myself a patron of the arts.”
You snorted. “You keep coin in your pocket? On Trinity?”
“Sweetheart, it’s the decoy cash,” Ezra explained. “You keep a couple low-credit coin in your pocket for the vandals so that they don’t go scroungin’ for the heavy-hittin’ gems in your suit lining.”
“Speaking of your suit lining,” you said, “I’ve been doing some mending.”
You heard Ezra’s raspy laugh through your headset. “Don’t suppose you’ve been sewin’ up my underthings.”
“Those are hopeless,” you remarked, “I meant your spare compression pants.”
“Ah!” Ezra said. “I do recall those had a rip in ’em. I was fixin’ to fix those.”
“Well, I figured I’d do it as long as I had the time,” you said. “Also darned a pair of your socks.”
“Are you anglin’ for a raise?” You could hear the smile in Ezra’s voice.
“Your listing didsay ‘compensation negotiable,’” you replied.
“Hmm. That it did,” Ezra said. “Perhaps we shall negotiate upon my return.”
The radio line lay silent for a moment, and you felt a nervous pang in your stomach. Enough small talk. You needed to say somethingabout what happened the other day—even if it was just to apologize.
“Ezra?”
“Yes, sweetheart?” He replied.
“Is everything… Okay? With us?” You asked, trying to suppress the anxiety in your voice.
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Ezra replied, before quickly adding in lowered tone, “Did somethin’… rub you the wrong way?”
“Kevva help me,” you grumbled, feeling the wave embarrassment crawl up your spine. “I’m so sorry, Ezra. It won’t happen again.”
“Stop apologizin’. There ain’t a thing wrong indulgin’ in a little well-earned self-pleasure.”
The way he said pleasuremade your breath hitch. You hoped like hell it didn’t pick up on the radio.
“If there’s one thing I’ve come to realize in my years,” he said, “is that there’s no use feelin’ shame in feelin’ good.”
His voice was smooth and deliberate now. That bastard knew exactlywhat he was doing to you. “So don’t you stop yourself because of me—truthfully, I don’t mind. Not one bit.”
Hesitantly, you reached down to press the heel of your hand against your clit, choking back a moan threatening to escape your throat—but not entirely succeeding.
You heard Ezra’s breath coming loud and heavy through the radio. “Are you touchin’ yourself right now, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” you gasped out, your previous inhibitions completely shattered.
“Fuck,” Ezra replied. “Thank Kevva this radio headset is hands-free.”
You heard what might have been Ezra undoing his zipper—and your suspicions were confirmed when you heard a low moan through the radio.
“Ezra—”
“Do you have the faintest idea what you do to me, woman?” The line swelled with static and the throaty rasp of Ezra’s voice. “Told myself not to—made myself not think of you like that. It ain’t proper. But when you—you let me watch—”
You whined and slid your hand beneath your underwear. “I was thinking of you,” you confessed, “always thinking of you—”
“It’s a cryin’ shame,” Ezra said, “all I’ve got is spit-slick and a weak hand wishin’ like hell it was you.”
You sped up the pace of your fingers as he continued.
“If you were here,” he said, “I’d bury myself inside you so deep—ah, fuck—’til you were the only thing I could feel.”
At his words, you slid two fingers inside yourself up to the knuckle, arching your hips, trying to get them as deep as they could go, thumb tirelessly working at your clit.
“I want that,” you panted, “I want you.”
“—Make you come on my cock again and again ’til you’re dizzy with it,” he said, “fuck you so hard you feel it the next day.”
Ezra’s words were pushing you close to the edge. “Ezra, I’m gonna—”
“Do it,” he groaned, “let me hear you, sweetheart.”
You came to the overwhelming sound of Ezra’s broken moans and your own desperate cries and the static of the radio and the beating of your heart—
a discordant symphony of absolute ecstasy.
–
Ezra returned the following night with a full pod of supplies. You worked together like a well-oiled machine, moving various goods from the pod to the tent in an orderly fashion. You both made small talk—Cee was doing well at the Academy, the shuttle station shop was stocked enough with what they needed, no, they didn’t have real coffee, just the shit stuff in packets.
Despite the friendly conversation, the air was thick with unspoken words.
It was hot out—as it always was on this planet—so you breathed a huge sigh of relief when you had both moved all the supplies to the tent and you could leave the sweaty pod. You both discarded your helmets and stood in front of the air circulator on Ezra’s side of the tent, sifting through the supplies and placing them where they belonged throughout the tent.
When you reached at the same time as Ezra for a can of coolant, your hands collided, sending a shockwave up your arm and stopping your breath.
You both froze, staring at your hands where they met.
Slowly, carefully, Ezra intertwined your fingers with his.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he whispered, those beautiful brown eyes of his gazing at you tenderly.
You couldn’t take it anymore—you climbed over the pile of supplies between you and pressed your lips to his.
He let out a surprised little noise against your mouth before returning the kiss with fervor, wrapping his arm tightly around you and pressing you close to his chest.
“Couldn’t—stop—thinkin’ of you,” he said between kisses.
“Do you want to—can we—” You gasped against his mouth.
“Yes,” he breathed, scrambling to work at the zips and fasteners on his suit. He didn’t object when you reached out to help remove the suit—and honestly, you weren’t thinking of it as helpinghim, more like getting all your clothes off as fast as possible because holy shitthis was happening. Ezra had already removed his boots when he took his helmet off earlier, and you were only dressed in your undershirt and shorts, so this blasted contraption of a suit was the main obstacle.
You both managed to get the damn thing off and Ezra kicked it aside. He reached back, grabbing his sweaty t-shirt behind the collar to tug it over his head. You grasped the hem of your top and pulled it up and off, throwing it to the growing pile of discarded clothing.
You were about to strip off your shorts when Ezra reached for you again, kissing your mouth, your jaw, your neck, down to the tops of your breasts along the edge of your bra. You scrambled to unclasp it, letting it fall to the floor. Ezra wasted no time, cupping a breast in his hand and lavishing kisses on the other. When you felt the wet heat of his tongue against your nipple, you cried out, grabbing his hair and giving it a tug. He moaned against your breast before pulling away to look at you.
“Let’s take this to a bed,” you urged.
Ezra nodded vigorously in agreement and you both stumbled over to his bed mat, falling atop the sheets in a tangle of limbs.
Ezra sat up and you situated yourself on his lap, wrapping your legs around him. You could kiss him like this for hours, his tongue in your mouth, your fingers in his hair, his hand steady and warm on your back.
When you both took a moment to catch your breath, Ezra cleared his throat and looked you in the eye, his expression almost timid.
“I must confess, I have not had the chance to… partake, since I lost my arm,” he said. “I may not be as formidable a sparrin’ partner as I once was.”
“Ezra, I’m sure it doesn’t matter,” you said, leaning in to kiss him again. He stopped you with a press of a finger to your lips.
“Allow me to enlighten you.” He shrugged with his stump. “Nothin’s as it once was. I can’t even take a piss the same way. Ever try to hold a dick with a hand that ain’t there?”
“Can’t say I have,” you said.
“Oh, hush, birdie, you can understand the sentiment,” Ezra grumbled. “Everything is at the behest of my damned weak hand. I can’t read my own handwriting anymore. Can’t shoot like I used to—my grip’s shit on the left. Even gettin’ dressed is harder than minin’ aurelac.”
He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair before continuing. “And as long as we’re on the subject of minin’, I can no longer mine most things on my lonesome. Each harvest is hardly half of my previous yields, and I got the kid to support on top of everything. Now, Cee deserves every bit of that support, do not misunderstand my words—I would move Kevva and earth for that girl. But such meager wages do tend to make one feel… inadequate. A man’s work is no petty thing.”
You listened to Ezra attentively, not knowing how you could get it across to him that he was no less of a man in your eyes than if he had two arms. You wanted to reassure him, but he pressed on.
“So please, allow me to posit this caveat,” he said, “that I intend to make love to you, and to do so to the fullest of my capabilities—but even my best efforts may prove… unsatisfactory.”
Make love. Ezra wanted to make love to you. Your heart stuttered in your chest.
You were so stunned by Ezra’s choice of vocabulary that it took you a moment to process what he said.
“Oh,” you said. “You don’t think you can make me come.”
Ezra ducked his head; you could have sworn he was blushing. “You always cut right to the quick.”
You cupped his cheek, running your thumb along the little white scar there.
“Ezra, I don’t care. I just want this. With you.” You glanced down to where you straddled his lap, rolling your hips a little against his growing arousal. “And forgive me if I’m assuming things, but it seems like you want it, too.”
Ezra moaned quietly at your movements. “My desire was never in question, I assure you,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smile.
You leaned in and kissed him softly. He returned the kiss before gently moving you off his lap.
“Lie down, sweetheart,” he whispered, and you eagerly obliged, reclining on the mattress. He settled on top of you, propping himself up on his elbow, kissing you passionately. Eager to get your hands on him, you hooked a finger under his waistband and gave a tug.
“Whoa there,” Ezra said, “slow down, spitfire.”
You moved your hand away. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothin’, believe me. But those clever hands of yours will have to wait, because I’ve been starvin’ for you,” he said with a sly grin, kissing a path down your breasts to your stomach, “and I can no longer deny myself a taste.”
It took a moment for your Ezra Translator to kick in. “Oh.” You scrambled to shimmy your shorts and underwear down. Ezra took over, pulling them all the way off and tossing them over his shoulder before leaning down to continue his trail of kisses.
He nudged at your thigh with his head and you eagerly opened your legs for him. Rough stubble tickled your thighs as he kissed his way to your cunt. At the first feeling of his hot breath against your clit, your hips jumped up out of their own volition, knocking Ezra off his left elbow and face-planting him onto the bed beneath you.
“Sorry!” You squeaked. You reached out to steady him but stopped yourself—you knew he hated being helped.
“Hell’s bells,” Ezra grunted. He gripped at the sheets with his hand as he slowly pushed himself to sit upright.
“Left arm ain’t worth shit,” he grumbled under his breath, “can’t even hold me up.”
“It’s alright, Ezra,” you said, “we can try again.”
“Indeed we can,” Ezra said. He lay down on his back next to you and motioned to his chin. “Take a seat, sweetheart.”
“Um,” you started. You’d done this before, but not like that. “I don’t want to—hurt you.”
“Kevva’s sake, woman, I ain’t gonna break,” Ezra said, then added with a grin, “if I suffocate on account of your cunt, I will embrace death with open arms. Well, one of ’em, anyway.”
“Oh, shut up,” you said with a groan.
“Here lies Ezra, drowned in pussy,” he continued teasing, eyeing you with a wicked grin.
You hesitantly shuffled toward him. Drumming up some courage, you knelt above him, one knee on either side of his head. You were so nervous that you could hear your pulse roaring in your ears.
Whether impatient or just eager, Ezra grabbed you by the hip, then, and urged you down onto his mouth.
You gasped, bracing yourself as you felt the white-hot warmth of his tongue against your cunt. You choked back a moan, your hips stuttering forward, trying not to grind down too hard on his face. Ezra was having none of that. He urged you to move, his hand gripping your hip and firmly pulling you forward. With a little more certainty, you rocked your hips forward and back, making his tongue slide against your clit in long strokes. You moaned again, louder this time, and Ezra hummed his desperate response, burying his face in your pussy like a man starving.
You rutted against him urgently, your thighs beginning to burn from holding yourself up over him. Your movements became less graceful, more desperate—you slid forward too far, causing your slit to grind against the bridge of his nose, and you’d be embarrassed if didn’t feel so damn good. You were right on the precipice, moments away from shaking apart, when Ezra stilled your hips with his hand and brought you back to his tongue. He latched his mouth over your clit and sucked on it, wet and sloppy and fucking perfect.
“Fuck, Ezra,” you gasped, the heat coiling inside you tighter and tighter, “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna—”
Ezragrowled, his teeth grazing your clit for a moment, and the jolt of sensation just on the right edge of pain had you coming so hard you thought you might black out. You stumbled forward, reaching out to break your fall, your cunt pulling away from his mouth. Somehow, Ezra knew you needed more, reaching behind his head for you and guiding you back in place with his hand. He began to lap at you again, working you through another shaking shockwave of pleasure.
You had to pull away before it was too much. You collapsed next to Ezra on the too-small mattress, trying to catch your breath, feeling your thighs burn and your cunt twitch and your heart sing.
“Give me a minute,” you gasped.
“Take all the time you need, sweetheart,” Ezra said, equally breathless.
You turned to look at Ezra. His face was flushed red, beads of sweat dripping down to mix with your slick that had ended up all over his mouth and chin—and his nose. He looked absolutely filthy and you’d be mortified if he didn’t look so damn pleased with himself.
You reached for your discarded t-shirt and gently wiped at his face, cleaning up the most offensive wet patches before tossing it aside again. “Sorry,” you said.
Ezra chuckled. “I do not accept your apology, ma’am,” he teased. “That was sexier than hittin’ a motherlode of aurelac.”
“Now that’s high praise,” you teased back.
“C’mere and kiss me,” he all but whispered, reaching out to hold your chin between his thumb and index finger. You closed the distance and pressed your lips against his. It was almost chaste—if not for the knowledge of where that mouth had just been.
He pressed his forehead against yours. You breathed deeply, absentmindedly playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck.
You looked down at the straining bulge in his pants, snaking your hand down to stroke at him through the fabric. A little choked moan tumbled from his throat at your touch.
“Let’s take this off,” you said, thumbing the waistband. He nodded in agreement, laying on his back and lifting his hips so you could pull his pants down and off in short order. His cock sprang free, hard and aching.
You licked your lips. “No underwear?”
“Too fuckin’ hot for underwear,” he said, gasping when you gently rested your hand on the crease where his thigh met his hip.
You moved your hand up and down his thigh, making him squirm and thrust up against nothing but air. He practically whined, his hand clawing at the sheets.
“Touchme,” he begged, voice cracking.
“Iamtouching you,” you said with a wolfish grin.
“Damn it, woman,” he groaned, “if the heat don’t kill me, you sure as shit will have the pleasure yourself.”
“Patience,” you chided, not sure how long you could keep this up—you wanted him inside you, and you wanted him now—but you loved seeing him spread out and desperate for you.
Finally, you wrapped your hand around him and gave a long, firm stroke. He threw his head back and moaned, arching into your touch. You licked your lips as you studied his cock, the thick length of it twitching ever so slightly in your hand. You rubbed at the underside of the head with your thumb and your mouth watered when a bead of precome welled up at the tip. On instinct, you moved down to lick it off.
Ezra cursed, bucking up to meet your mouth. You held him down by the hip before taking him into your mouth as far as you could.
“Fuck,sweetheart—I—fuck!” Ezra cried out, clawing at the sheets with his hand, writhing against your hand where it held him down. When you tentatively reached down to gently squeeze his balls, he nearly sobbed.
“I’m gonna—” Ezra gasped.
You pulled your mouth off of him, then, replacing it with your hand, not moving, just holding him at the base.
“Hold on, I didn’t say stop,” he said with a breathless chuckle. “Everything alright?”
“I want you inside me,” you whispered, barely audible.
Ezra reached out to still your movements. “I don’t have protection, sweetheart,” he said, voice strained.
You bit your bottom lip, averting Ezra’s gaze for a moment. “I have the implant,” you said, looking him in the eye again.
Ezra’s eyebrow shot up. “Well, shit, woman,” he said. “Thought they only had those fancy contraptions in the Ephrate.”
“They do,” you said. “I did have some decent money, once. In the rush. Before my crew took it all and left.”
“You and I have trod similar paths, so it would seem,” Ezra said.
“The rush left a lot of us in the dust,” you said.
Ezra nodded. “The deadliest dust there is.”
After a long moment, he sat up to kiss you, just a gentle press of lips. You put your arms around him and closed your eyes, breathing with him for a moment.
“How do you want to—which way should we—” you stumbled over your words.
“You may have me whichever way you desire,” Ezra said, voice low in your ear, “and I will do my darnedest to provide.”
“Can—can you be on top?” You started, “I mean—I will if it’s easier, but my thighs are kind of killing me.”
Ezra chuckled, and you thrilled at the vibration of it against your chest. “Lay back,” he said.
You complied, laying down on the bed mat. He reached behind you to grab the pillow.
“Lift up that pretty ass of yours for me,” he said, and you did. Kneeling before you, he placed the pillow under your hips.
“Reckon my knees will hold me up longer than my arm,” he said, gripping your hip to tug you towards him.
“Guess both our thighs will be burning tonight,” you said with a sly smile.
“Worth every ache,” he replied, taking himself in hand.
He slowly rubbed at your slit with the head of his cock. You moaned, your cunt clenching against thin air as you felt wetness dribble down. Ezra dragged his cockhead through the slick, gathering it before rubbing at your clit directly. You gasped at the jolt of pleasure lighting up your body—it felt so good you could cry. You could hardly stand the teasing anymore, wanting him inside you now more than ever.
“Ezra,please,” you begged.
At your urging, he lined himself up and slid inside you with one deliberate movement. The sensation of his thick cock filling you up, the almost-aching stretch of it—it was better than you ever imagined. He grabbed you by the hip again to pull you even closer as he began to thrust into you at a steady pace.
“Look at you,” Ezra said, his voice gravelly and low, “takin’ my cock like it was made for you. Shoulda known you’d feel this good, sweetheart.”
“Ezra,” you panted, “Ezra.”
You looked up at Ezra as he filled you completely—from his pupils blown wide and his lips slightly parted, to the broad expanse of his shoulders, to the torso adorned with freckles and scars, to—fuck, where his cock was seated deep in your cunt—he was more beautiful than any gemstone.
You could tell Ezra was trying to control the pace of his thrusts, biting his lip in concentration. You didn’t want him to hold back.
“Harder,” you breathed.
“I ain’t gonna last,” Ezra said through gritted teeth.
“I don’t care!” You cried out, clenching down on him.
“Fuck!” Ezra leaned forward and braced himself against the bed, arm trembling with the effort as he set a brutal pace, fucking into you hard and deep and unrelenting. You nearly screamed.
“Touch yourself, sweetheart,” Ezra’s voice was frantic and loud, “come for me, please, please,fuck!”
You rubbed your clit for hardly a moment before you shook apart, your cunt spasming around his cock, your body consumed in flames of pleasure so intense you could hardly breathe.
Ezra managed a few more thrusts before he came with a shout, his cock inside you as deep as it could go.
–
In the aftermath, Ezra collapsed beside you, absolutely exhausted. You turned your head to kiss him, lazy and slow.
“If it’s alright with you,” he said, his breath warm and close, “I’m inclined to take the day off tomorrow.”
“We’re sure going to be sore,” you sighed.
“Well, yes,” he agreed, “but I’m keen on more…sparrin’ practice.”
“You can say sex, you know,” you laughed, “not everything has to be a metaphor.”
Ezra smiled. “I do have an inclination to run my mouth, don’t I.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
Ezra just rolled his eyes before taking your hand in his, your fingers twining together.
“I just realized,” you said, looking over at Ezra’s desk, “I could’ve sat on that chair instead of your face. Would’ve made things easier.”
Ezra’s eyes widened a fraction, looking over at the chair, then back to you.
“Why didn’t I think of that? I am dumber than a box of rocks,” he said with a chuckle. “But I do believe my method is superior.”
“We’ll have to test your theory,” you said. “Do some serious research.”
Ezra nodded eagerly before setting a steely expression with a furrowed brow. “Of course.”
–
content: phone sex (well, radio sex if you wanna get technical), cunnilingus, face-sitting, blowjob, vaginal sex
a/n: listen. all the scifi sex I write will conveniently make use of “the implant” purely so they can raw-dog it. also like where tf is ezra gonna go buy space condoms. this is set in the fringes of the galaxy. it’s not like he can pop over to space cvs and get some cosmic cock wrappers for his magnum dong. they don’t carry them at the shuttle station, okay?
and yes I DO go back and forth in my fics deciding whether “come” or “cum” is hotter/more grammatically correct/etc and this is a come fic, apologies to the cum crowd
special thanks to taylor (@damerondjarin) for the exchange of messages that inspired this fic, and for all the moral support thereafter. believe it or not this entire fic was supposed to be JUST the face-sitting sex scene and uh it expanded from there. Oops.
genre: romance/smut/and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates)
words: 2.7k
part 1 of 2
please scroll to the end to “content” if you would like to know specific smut-related content before reading!
—
Ever since the rush ended, mining work was somewhat scarce. Most aurelac miners—the ones who didn’t strike it rich, had already squandered away their profits, or ones that worked under flat-rate contract and not profit-share—had been swept up by the large-scale mining companies at the Ephrate.
You, unfortunately, had a falling-out with the head of your crew shortly before the end of the rush, and you were left out in the cold with little more than the clothes on your back and the helmet on your head.
Now you operated alone, picking up what seasonal jobs you could. The ones that payed more tended to be more dangerous—you had a good sense as to which jobs would require you to stash extra knives on your person and demand your own private tent. That demand would often eat into your wages, but it was worth the peace of mind.
You were coming up on the last of your income from last season, which is how you found yourself scouting shuttle stations for work. Most of the bulletins at the larger stations were already picked clean. Now, at one of the smallest stations in the Reach, you hoped against hope you’d find a decent job posting.
Mostly scrap haul jobs—one odd request for a live-in massage therapist, and you knew what thatwas code for—but when you were about to give up and move on, one last blip on the readout screen caught your eye.
seeking experienced miner for short-term contract work (one season). small-scale operation, compensation negotiable. food and board included. helmet must be supplied by employee, O2 freely available. radio callsign alpha-echo-six, will be monitoring channel 07:00 – 23:00 universal time.
It was contract work, not profit-share, but what the hell. It was the best you had come across in your search so far and you doubted you’d find anything better. Checking the screen, you noted it was nearly 23:00—but you pulled out your radio, entered the posted callsign, and gave it a shot.
“This is radio callsign alpha-sierra-two, inquiring about job posting on shuttle station R-Twelve,” you said into your device. “Is the position still open?”
You waited for a minute in dead silence before you heard the line crackle to life. “Hello, alpha-sierra-two,” a thick drawl replied. “Long as you can hold a pickaxe steady, the job’s as good as yours.”
—
When you met him, the first thing you noticed was the shock of blonde hair. Nobody out in the Reaches had much use for cosmetic hair products, so it must have been a natural occurrence of some sort. It struck you as profoundly odd—but also incredibly attractive. You took a deep breath and swallowed down the nervous lump in your throat.
The second thing you noticed—well. It was a little hard to miss.
“Name’s Ezra,” he said with a sly smile, extending his left—and only—hand.
You weren’t sure which hand you were supposed to shake his with. You decided on your left, to match his. It took some fumbling, but you managed a firm shake in the end. You introduced yourself and then let your hands drop.
“Sorry if that was weird,” you said, “I’m not used to shaking hands with my left.”
Ezra chuckled darkly. “Me neither, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. Normally, you’d hate hearing that come from a man you’d just met. It would’ve felt like a belittlement. But not with this man—it just seemed to roll off his tongue without a second thought.
Then, you realized the implication of his statement. If he wasn’t used to shaking with his left, the loss of his right arm must not have been too long ago. In this line of work, any number of horrors could have caused it. You decided it was best not to dwell on the subject.
“Allow me to escort you to your quarters,” Ezra said, gesturing for you to follow.
He brought you to the only man-made structure within sight. He must have built it himself. He zipped the entryway door shut and clumsily removed his helmet with one hand. You swiftly removed yours, glad to get the sweaty thing off of you for the first time in hours.
The tent was sturdy and spacious enough to feel a little less like a hovel and a little more like a home. It was certainly nicer than most accommodations you’d been given on mining contract work before. There were two beds—well, just cushioned mats on the floor, but definitely an upgrade from a cot—separated by makeshift room divider in the form of a bedsheet tied between two of the tent supports.
“I can fashion a proper partition if you’d prefer,” he said, “the kid was prone to nightmares is all. Didn’t like feelin’ shut off. Took that tent wall down the next day, put the sheet up instead.”
“Kid?” You prompted.
“She’s livin’ in the Ephrate this season,” he said. “Got a scholarship to that fancy Academy an’ everything. Awful proud of her.” You could hear the fondness in his voice.
“That’s nice,” you said, “she must have a good father.”
Ezra chuckled, the sound tinged with something bitter. “Unfortunately, I do not hold such a grand title,” he said. “Her parents are deceased. I am but her guardian.”
Oh.
“Well, get yourself settled and join me outside when you’re ready,” he said as he went to retrieve his helmet. “It’s not as complicated as aurelac, but it’s still a bitch to mine.”
—
After just a few days of harvesting starstone, you were inclined to agree with Ezra’s statement. It was an absolute bitch. If you so much as tapped it at the wrong angle it would completely lose its integrity. Then, as soon at was harvested, it had to be soaked in a complicated solution of enzymes so it would retain its color—if you waited too long to get it in the enzyme bath, it would turn pale and lose its shimmer. How the hell anyone managed to transport it without massive damages, you had no idea.
You voiced this to him. He simply shrugged. “Not my problem,” he said. “The buyer is arrangin’ her own transport. We just have to hand it off.”
“What is this stuff good for, anyway?” You asked.
“It’s pretty,” he said, “and if there’s one thing I’ve become privy to in all my years of prospectin’, it’s that all sorts of folk will pay a pretty penny for pretty things. ’Specially if those things are rare.”
“There’s no accounting for taste, I guess,” you mumbled, looking at the bright green and orange whorls of glittery stone around the two of you. Ezra snickered at your comment, and the sound of the raspy, almost boyish laughter made your stomach do somersaults.
“I can assume you have no such affinity for pretty things, then,” he said with a grin.
“Well,” you started, looking into those pretty brown eyes of his, “now and I again I might.”
Ezra just arched an eyebrow before returning to sifting through rock.
—
You and Ezra fell into an easy rhythm. He would wake up early to prepare the enzyme solutions for the day’s mining. You both mined as long as it stayed light out, going back into the tent as needed for a ration bar or a toilet break or just to rest your weary head for a minute. After dark, it was your responsibility to prep the filters and O2 tanks. As days turned into weeks, you found yourself finally adjusting to the man’s odd manner of speech, and even found yourself laughing at his dry wit.
And if you were honest with yourself, you were harboring quite the crush.
But this was job, damnit, and even if it wasn’t profit-share, Ezra payed far more than any other boss you’d had for contract work. You weren’t going to compromise that. A sexual relationship with someone who was technically your superior was never a good idea—you didn’t want to get yourself kicked off this planet without a full season’s pay.
This dwarf planet’s climate wasn’t as harsh and unforgiving as the Green. The air wasn’t breathable, which is why oxygen tanks and helmets were necessary, but there was nothing like the deadly moon’s dust you remember from the rush days. The one complaint you had: the weather was always hot, some days painfully so, and today was one of those days. You had both decided to cut the workday short and stumbled back to the tent, sweaty and exhausted.
You wrenched your helmet off of your head and immediately planted yourself in front of one of the air circulators. You heard Ezra’s helmet fall to the floor with a clankand several frustrated grunts as he began to unzip his suit. You knew by now not to offer help—even though it took him a long time to dress and undress, it seemed to be a point of pride to him that he do it himself.
You shucked off your own suit, leaving yourself standing in a sleeveless top and shorts. Cooler now, but still utterly worn-out, you all but flung yourself on your cot. You rucked up your shirt so you left as much of your skin exposed to the air as possible without stripping down to your underwear. “Too fucking hot,” you grumbled.
“Preachin’ to the choir, birdie,” Ezra replied, finally kicking his suit off and out of the way. “Pardon my selfishness, but I’m inclined to take the first shower.”
You groaned, but you had taken the first shower yesterday, so you didn’t protest. Ezra took long showers—you guessed it was because of his arm situation—so you’d have to wait to get all the sweat and grime off. But hey—at least you hada shower. In some of your past gigs you had to wipe yourself down from head to toe with a wet rag.
The shower was attached to the main tent on the east-facing wall: your side of the sheet. Ezra walked by you to access it—he was shirtless, clad only in the pair of black compression pants he wore under his suit. You couldn’t help but sneak a look at him from where you lay—you had come to appreciate the broad expanse of his back and shoulders, his skin kissed all over with fading white scars, the little paunch of his stomach, and the dusting of dark hair that began below his bellybutton and traveled down beneath his waistband. He sighed and stretched before unzipping the partition and shuffling tiredly to the shower.
Seeing him half-naked had lit a spark in your belly. You swallowed thickly, your mind trailing into territory you usually reserved for late at night when Ezra was asleep. Yes, you were attracted to him—but it was more than just a baser instinct. Whenever you got yourself off in the past—or gotten someone elseoff—it had been quick and quiet and easily forgotten, something to take the edge off, to scratch an itch. You never really fantasized about romance or, Kevva forbid, love, but the longer you spent with Ezra, the more you caught yourself wondering what he would be like as a lover—if he’d hold you gently against his chest after, if he’d press a soft kiss to your forehead, if he’d tell you that you were beautiful.
You scoffed at yourself. Fantasies like that were for naive girls, not for a grown woman, especially not a world-weary miner who knew that men in the Reaches weren’t like that.
But maybe Ezra was different. He was already far different than any man you had ever met.
And maybe you could allow yourself the fantasy.
As you listened to the hum of the shower running, confident in your assertion that Ezra wouldn’t be out for some time—you snaked one hand down under the waistband of your shorts and underwear, rubbing at yourself in the way you usually did—in the way that would make you orgasm quickly. If you drew things out, that just gave your brain time to strike up ridiculous fantasies of Ezra making love to you.
Making love. There you go again. Why can’t you just call it fucking? But what you were thinking of wasn’t fucking—would he gaze into your eyes as he filled you? Would he whisper to you how goodyou felt, call you sweetheartlike he did the first day you met—and nearly every day since?
Damn it, you said you wouldn’t think about it, but here you were. You rubbed yourself faster, just hoping to get this over with and move the fuck on—
“Shower’s all yours,” you heard Ezra’s voice ring out, and you froze. You didn’t breathe, didn’t move a muscle. How had you not heard the water turn off? How long were you daydreaming?
There was no way Ezra didn’t know what you were doing. You didn’t even have the plausible deniability of having a blanket over you. You were sofucked.
You moved your head a tiny fraction to look at Ezra. He had a threadbare towel around his waist, precariously held by a twist-and-tuck at his hip. He was staring at you, wide-eyed and stock-still, as droplets dripped down his forehead from his still-wet hair. You weren’t sure he was even breathing.
Neither of you moved.
Then, Ezra licked his lips, flicking his eyes from your face down to where your hand was still stuck in your shorts, then back to your eyes again. Slowly, deliberately. He quirked an eyebrow at you.
You hitched your hips up a little under his gaze, almost involuntarily. He watched the movement with intensity.
Fuck.Was this really happening?
Ezra brought his hand up to his mouth, rubbing at his lower lip with his thumb. He looked to where your hand was trapped between your legs, and gestured with a nod.
With your heartbeat hammering against your chest, you began to move your hand again, eyes locked on Ezra. His breath hitched as he watched you touch yourself, his eyes intent on your body, pupils blown wide and dark.
You rubbed at your clit, your legs tensing as you brought your hips up to press into your hand. Unable to help it, a moan escaped your throat, and Ezra answered back with a low hum of his own.
Hearing him respond to you made your body light up like lightning. You closed your eyes and sucked in frantic bursts of air. The oppressive heat around you was unbearable, the pressure building in your core even more so. Your pulse roared against your eardrums as you frantically worked at your clit, almost sore now, needing to come now more than ever, needing that release—
“Fuck, sweetheart,” Ezra said, and the sound of his voice had you coming hard, thighs shaking. You chased your high as long as you could, clit nearly rubbed raw, until you winced at the overstimulation, dropping your hips back to the bed and letting out a heaving sigh. Almost in a daze, you opened your eyes, chancing a glance at Ezra. He was staring down at you as if he’d seen Kevva’s gates open up before him. He was also visibly tenting his towel, holding onto where it was tied at his hip in a vise-like grip.
“I’m,” you started, catching your breath, “I could use a shower now.”
“As very well could I,” Ezra replied as he shifted his weight back and forth, voice strained, “an’ a cold one at that. But I’d be remiss to waste the water.”
“Sorry,” you mumbled. About the shower or the impromptu peepshow, you weren’t sure.
“Quite alright. But don’t be alarmed if you emerge to find me in a similar position when you’re done in there,” he remarked, gesturing to the shower with a jerk of his head.
You planted your face in your pillow, mortified beyond belief, hot shame washing over you. Ezra simply chuckled.
“No reason to be embarrassed, sweetheart,” he said. “Close quarters make for… sticky situations such as these.”
“Shutup,” you grumbled as you stood up, walking past Ezra to make your way to the shower.
What the fuckjust happened?
—
a/n:this was supposed to be a quick smutty oneshot (oops) but it was getting long so I’ve split it into two parts! Part two should be out by the end of this week.
content:masturbation, voyeurism (but is it voyeurism if both parties are aware of the voyeur-ing?)
A/N: Thank you for being patient for this one - I couldn’t have done it without the reassurance of @krissology and @charnelhouse who assured me this chapter hit just the way I wanted it to. Apologies for any typos - this lady has COVID brain, but I wanted to get this out. Enjoy!
You kept looking at the text all night long. Checking it was still there after you dried off from your shower, peeking at it every so often as you finished some homework, opening it after you crawled into bed. The simple words etched themselves onto your brain before you closed it, tapping your Books app to read.
You had thought you had sated the ache you had for him in the shower earlier, but it did almost nothing against the bundle of nerves warming in your core right now at the thought of that text. It was as if the words acted as a match, igniting the kindling inside you the second he sent them.
A/N: Thank you for being patient for this one - I couldn’t have done it without the reassurance of @krissology and @charnelhouse who assured me this chapter hit just the way I wanted it to. Apologies for any typos - this lady has COVID brain, but I wanted to get this out. Enjoy!
You kept looking at the text all night long. Checking it was still there after you dried off from your shower, peeking at it every so often as you finished some homework, opening it after you crawled into bed. The simple words etched themselves onto your brain before you closed it, tapping your Books app to read.
You had thought you had sated the ache you had for him in the shower earlier, but it did almost nothing against the bundle of nerves warming in your core right now at the thought of that text. It was as if the words acted as a match, igniting the kindling inside you the second he sent them.
I have nothing to say except that normal service will be resumed next week. And that I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m not a biochemist and my biology education stopped age 16 so forgive any inaccuracies. I have tried to use inclusive language gender-wise.
I also owe nods to both Terry Pratchett and The Walking Dead. And probably a whole host of other things since I am a total hoor for horror and science fiction and the combination of the two.
Warnings for murder, gore, blood, human experimentation, vast discussions of pregnancy and conception, miscarriage, religion, a mention of religious based transphobia and bioessentialism, periods, sperm (but not in a sexy way), non specific mention of rape, suicide.
Please believe that when I say this it is with all the glowing praise in this and all possible universes.
What. The. Shit.
This chapter was haunting and full of dread from the very beginning. Just the whole trope of video journals from a scientist in a science fiction story was enough to make me suuuuuper anxious from the get-go.
I loved the worldbuilding in this, as usual, this peek into the origin of Ezra and his people. This chapter answered quite a few questions that have been swirling in my brain since I binged this story last week. But…. it also created quite a few more!! I can’t wait to get more answers as we go on.
The juxtaposition between this and the last chapter was staggering. I had been shooting rainbows out of all orifices after chapter 15 and then…… existential dread. Loved the nods to The Walking Dead, and I also got major Alien vibes (the recent ones where they’re trying to colonize other planets) and I can’t wait for more of this story. Bravo.
Okay so this is a week late and I am sorry. But I hope you’re all ready for a little light spiciness as well as some weird stuff! I tend to dream very vividly and sometimes I open my eyes before I’ve finished and let me tell you it’s trippy.
Warnings for lots and lots of kissing, sexual touching and flirting. Words 6.5k.
I have also had Dieter-as-Ezra in my head for ✨the look✨ I am thinking of for him right now.
My dearest loves, this is nothing but loving smut and it starts immediately. Obviously I have warnings about being 18+ everywhere on my blog but we’re going to reiterate for this chapter! There’s some kissing, oral sex (both m and f receiving), unprotected p in v and exploration of some (hopefully) interesting differences between their physicalities….we also flip back and forth between perspectives here for the first time.
I have tried to be mindful of not attributing many physical characteristics to “her” beyond the fact that she has hair and is a cis woman. This continues here.
This was an ask I sent to @forever-rogue back in 2020 and couldn’t find it in the archives to reblog but I love her responses so much! My question was based on a real event in my life because I am a saucy minx gifs are my addition.
——————
What would each character do if you had always been just friends but you were having movie night together and you went to change into “comfy” clothing or pajamas but came back out nonchalantly in a pretty chemise?
Javi ~ you’d been…“just friends” for some time. Mostly just friends, but there had been a few….drunken, late night encounters. Which, of course, neither of you minded. There was always a lot of flirtatious teasing and all that jazz, so one night you decided to jump the ante. You were at his place, having a movie marathon, when you decided to…have a little fun. Excusing yourself to go to the bathroom, under the guise of changing into some pajamas you kept at his place. Instead, you quickly stripped off your clothing to reveal the lacy lingerie underneath. You walked back out, and Javi did such a double take he almost broke his neck. You walked over to him and he stared wordlessly at you. Is that more comfortable? he’d asked, but you insisted you’d be even more comfortable without it on. Javi pulled you into his lap and wasted no time in making you more comfortable.
Ezra ~ he’s a surprisingly shy and gentle man. He’d never expect you to pull a little stunt like that. You were at home together, the one you now shared as roommates, having a quiet night in. You were watching television and he was deeply engrossed in whatever he was reading this particular evening. You excused yourself, deciding to tempt fate, and he’d made a noncommittal sound, not even looking up from his book. You dashed into the bathroom and changed, hoping he would like the pretty chemise you had picked out. When you returned, you didn’t say anything, and neither did he…it actually took him a while to look up but when he did, his jaw dropped. Well aren’t you a sight, pretty little dove. You grinned at him and shrugged innocently before displaying it for him and walking over. He gave you an almost questioning look, as if he was asking if you were sure, if you gave him permission to touch you. But you just nodded and he took your hand, pulling you into his lap. I have an insurmountably long time for this, he drawled in your ear before finally kissing you.
Catfish ~ he’s lowkey, you’re lowkey, and that’s always worked for the two of you. You always valued the simple things in life, and how relaxed your friendship was, despite harboring feelings for him. But for some reason, you’d gotten a wicked idea when you’d spotted the pretty lace chemise at the store, and purchased it before you thought about it too much. But as you were at your house, relaxing after a long week, with snacks and binge watching some Netflix, you told him you had a surprise. He gave you a curious look, but didn’t question you as you disappeared into your bedroom, quickly changing into the lingerie. You hoped he would like it, or else you didn’t know how you’d recover. He had come into your room after you’d been gone for some time, breath hitching at the sight of you. Your cheeks flushed and you dropped your head, hoping it wasn’t too much. But he quickly chased away any of your doubts, when he came over and crashed his lips onto yours, kissing you like he had never kissed anyone before. You never worried about your decision after that.
Maxwell Lord ~ there’s not such as being friends with Maxwell. He doesn’t do friends. He has those that work for him, or those that provide some sort of service. You fell into the former, working as secretary for some time, so you knew all about him. One day, you came into the office to find an extravagant box sitting on your desk, without a note, but you knew it was from him. Your face felt like it was on fire as you realized that it was not just lingerie, but the most exquisite and expensive kind. Immediately knowing what to do, you had slipped it on and then wrapped up in a coat before going to his office. His dark eyes raked over you with a wicked smile on his face as you dropped the coat and revealed what was underneath. You had wondered when his attention would turn to you; you were more than happy your time had come.
Whiskey ~ he’s a gentleman, no mistaking it. He’d been having a big party at his place, guests were there all night, until it dwindled down to the two of you. You were good friends, always had been, but a part of you wondered if there was more…you hoped there was. So, you’d decided to find out on your own, pretending to help him clean his house, but instead had changed into the pretty little chemise you’d gotten. You walked back out and pretended to clean, not drawing any necessary attention to yourself. Jack’s eyes widened as he nervously started to stammer, refusing to look at you because he would never want to overstep or make you uncomfortable. You just giggled at him and walked over, grabbing his hand away from his face. This is for you, Jack, you all but whispered as he searched your eyes for permission. Once it was granted, he quickly took the opportunity, pulling you into his arms and kissing you with a deep, desperate desire.
Oberyn ~ he’s a man of wealth and taste, and sex. It’s true, we all know it. But you? You were a friend and hadn’t technically done anything with him, and he respected your boundaries, such as the amazing prince as he was. But after some time, you wanted…no, needed more. So you had gotten some fine silks, and had them fashioned into an even finer shift, the colors of his house, and donned it, surprising him in his bedchamber. He’d been deep in thought and you’d surprised him by your sudden entrance, but his dark eyes light up at the sight of you. He was in bed already, but sat up, gesturing for you to come over; you were top of him, straddling him, within moments. He wanted to kiss you desperately so, but stopped himself, never wanting to do anything without express content. You are positive? his voice was soft and gentle, causing a stirring in your belly, but you decided to answer him with a kiss of your own. You’d waited for your sweet prince long enough.
