Warnings: A big pile of angst and grief. Single-needle tattooing.
Summary: You ask Ezra to place a memorial on your skin. He asks you not to become one on his.
A/N: This is a request for my 300+ Follower Jubilee!@ohlawdthebirds contacted me with a request for Ezra giving a tattoo. While this isn’t the exact request they sent, it is inspired by the conversation. <3
Prompt: “Tattoo” and “pain.”
The first prick of the needle makes your arm jump. Ezra barely lifts his head to check in with you.
“You sure you want this, sweetheart?”
You take another swig of the woodale and nod. “Yes. Do it.”
His fingers curl firmly and gently around your wrist, trying to hold you down without really holding you down, not unlike so many hours you’ve spent together lately on the floor. “Strong and steady then, okay?”
The next stab is harder, hurts more. The next hurts worse. It takes several more before your nerves are overloaded and it’s just one long irritation.
Your tearing eyes drift away from your bloodying arm as it lays on the table, not far from Ezra’s thrower. A beautiful piece. Bespoke. Custom made with an engraved shaft. He used it to save your life two rotations ago.
Warnings: Language, established relationship, praise talk, heavy teasing, oral m recieving, balls in mouth, cumplay, always a loquacious Ezra.
Summary: Going down on Ezra before bed is the only thought in your pretty little head. He deserves it and you need to taste him.
A/N: Apologies for being MIA for a little, deployments have really gotten in the way of my writing. I have so much more coming soon…BUT…I hope you enjoy this thot that I couldn’t get out of my head until I typed it out, the way I yearn to make this man feel good! I love our Ez.
You burn for him. Your eyes refuse to look away. Your mouth waters at the sight of him. Something has come over you, heating you completely in the coldness of the metal pod.
Standing in the doorway of the washroom space, you are staring…disrespectfully.
Ezra is lounging in his favorite position, relaxed, head against a pillow on the bulkhead, as he reads his latest adventure novel. He’s on the bed sideways, with his feet planted on the deck, knees far apart. The damn tease only in his black briefs ready for sleep. You love those briefs. The fabric soft and snug. Outlining his beautiful cock resting heavy between his spread thighs. You absentmindedly lick your lips confirming your decision.
From this vantage point, you watch as his eyes dart across the page fully engrossed in what he is reading. As you pad slowly towards him, you bring your fingertips to your lips in anticipation. It’s instinctual at this point. Your mouth craves his touch, more so his skin, his taste. Ezra hasn’t taken notice of your approach and this excites you even more.
Once close enough, you lower yourself one knee at a time and shuffle silently to kneel between his wide spread knees. Now his whole face is blocked by his book. It must be a really good chapter because you are so close his body heat warms you but he hasn’t reacted to your advance…yet.
Placing both of your hands on either knee, you press your palms up the inside of Ezra’s thighs and he trembles, finally lowering the book to his bare chest to find you kneeling before him with a devious smile on your face.
“Mmm, my apologies little bird, it was not my intention to ignore your presence. I just entered a pivotal moment in my reading as I was awaiting your arrival to bed. To find you like this as I reenter reality is a delightful surprise.”
“No apologies necessary my love,” you answer sweetly as you continue to caress his thighs all the way up to his hips and back down to his knees, your touch obviously having the effect on him that you wanted as you watch him harden in front of you. Some of your passes lightly brush the tip of his cock or his balls. He lets out soft gasps each time. With his eyes closed he starts to roll his hips up as your hands get closer and closer to the crotch of his briefs. The sight of him reacting to your touch this way makes you squeeze your legs together for your own friction, but you want this just for him right now.
“Your hands are divine in touch little bird, this feels so good,” Ezra sighs as he reaches down to palm himself roughly over the thin fabric out of need, but you gently push his hand away and his eyes meet yours in apology.
“Let me take care of you handsome,” you press the heel of your palm over his thick tip and he whines grasping at the bedding as you begin to stroke him over his underwear. Now he is throbbing for you but you aren’t ready to free him just yet.
You lean forward, continuing to stroke him, and place wet open mouth kisses and suck small marks into his right thigh. Ezra looks down his body at you with so much want and you are going to drag out his pleasure because you love it when he looks at you this way. Completely surrendering himself and his body to your touch, your love. When your kisses reach his center you pause, looking up at him, then swiftly skip over to his left thigh to continue your path of sucking and kissing. Ezra exhales like he had been holding his breath.
“Don’t you worry baby,” you say between slow kisses with a smile and a squeeze of his inner thigh, “I’ve got you.”
Ezra soaks in your words with a deep breathy sigh because he knows you’ve got him, in every way, you are always there for him and take care of him as he does you. He closes his eyes and takes in your all encompassing presence.
Once your lips trail back up towards where your hand is still softly rubbing him, you don’t hesitate this time and nuzzle your nose and mouth into his clothed center. Ezra’s eyes shoot open as he thrusts ever so slightly when you all but bite him at the very top of his inner thigh. The small yelp he lets out makes you smile as you run your hot mouth over every part of his groin. You nibble the tops of his thighs. Nose his crevice. Kiss his balls. Lick his leaking tip savoring the taste of the damp spot your ministrations have earned you. And start to tug him a little firmer as you do.
Ezra is now a whimpering mess before you and you haven’t even removed his briefs yet.
“Please…please baby.” Ezra whispers quietly, pleading for you, begging for more, and you cannot deny him when he needs you so badly. Especially when his fingertips lightly stroke your cheek. What he doesn’t know, is you need this just as much as he does. This is what you wanted.
At his breathless request, your nimble fingers find the waistband on his briefs and begin to pull them up and over his length. His cock springs free to rest up on his tummy and your mouth waters in anticipation. You pat his hip and he lifts for you to pull his briefs completely off then down his long legs. Ezra pulls one foot free so that he is able to spread his thighs wide again for you to settle in between comfortably.
Ezra’s eyes roll back and his hand finds his face, rubbing his forehead with a shaky sigh, when your hands return to his bare inner thighs and up to his now exposed hips. You know he can never resist your soft touches, revels in them, his cock jumps in front of you. You take in the sight of him so turned on, trembling, panting…when his eyes return to you, you finally make your move.
“Oh!” he gasps when you lick and suck one of his balls into your mouth, he bucks his hips at the sensation. Your hands press him back into the bedding to keep him steady as you move to his other one. The noises coming from Ezra are intoxicating. You close your eyes to feel every gasp, whine, whimper, and cry as you lap your tongue over his most sensitive skin. You sense he is close by his flexing and heavy breaths, so you ease your aggressive want.
His cock is leaking onto his skin and you think to yourself what a waste as you release his right ball with a pop. Looking up his body, his chest heaving with arousal and restraint, you find his gaze as you lean forward, hands planted still on his hips. Ezra watches intently, lips parted as if he wants to say something, anything, but cannot. You give him a small smirk then stick your tongue all the way out flat and start to lick the underside of his cock from base to tip. Ezra growls deep in his chest watching your filthy action.
When you reach his tip you run your right hand up his side to caress his stomach and chest as you clean him of his precome. Then, with no hands, you tilt your head forward to catch the head of his length between your lips, forehead dragging down his abdomen as you finally take him into your mouth. You lean back to rest back on your hunches with his cock heavy on your tongue and you hum, tasting him at last. Everything you were wanting when staring at him before, the saltiness of his come, the slight spice of his soap, his unique scent that draws you in…Him.
“Blessed Kevva this beguiling mouth,” Ezra grunts out as you begin your steady pace building him to where he was when you were just touching him. His hand rests on the back of your head as you move all the way up and down his length, not to push you or take control, but to feel more of you. His hips start to roll up to meet your motions and you welcome it.
It’s messy. Your saliva mixed with his precome covering your lips, dribbling down your chin, down his shaft, to his curls and balls, and you fucking love it. You push yourself wanting more so you inhale deep to take his whole length, hitting the back of your throat with a gag. The moan you pull from Ezra spurs you on to do it again and again until he is practically shaking below you. Labored panting and high pitched cries as he nears his climax.
That’s when you hollow your cheeks, suck his cock as hard as you can, and you grasp his spit covered balls, massaging them together in your small hand in time with your bobbing up and down.
“Fuckin’ stars above!” Ezra basically screams, throwing his head back hard against the pillow propped up on the wall as his orgasm rips through him filling the back of your throat. You try to keep up and drink down everything he gives you. It’s almost too much as always and some slips past your lips onto your chin. After swallowing him fully you twirl your tongue around his overly sensitive tip, cleaning every inch of him, and he shudders.
Ezra’s hand is still in your hair and falls to his thigh when you finally pull off of his softening cock. Retracting your hands from him, you sit back with an accomplished look. He sees you reaching to wipe your face clean but stops you by sitting up and grabbing your wrist softly.
“Let me oblige you,” he says as his thumb swipes the come on your chin. He drags it to your lips, which you separate willingly as you look up at him from your kneeling position, “so captivating you are.”
Ezra presses his thumb onto your tongue and you hum with satisfaction. He watches you with so much adoration as you grin after the slow pull of his thumb out between your plush lips. Then he lifts your lips to his for a deep kiss, tongues swirling and tastes shared. The soreness of your jaw setting in and oh so worth it.
The kiss breaks and he brushes his nose with yours, moving it up the center of your face to gently kiss your forehead. You begin to pull his briefs back up his calves and he humphs gratefully, assisting the rest of the way. Then he easily lifts you up to him, into the bed and twists to turn off the pod’s soft lighting.
“Let us rest now little bird, what a wondrous treat that was before bedtime,” Ezra breathes into your neck in his raspy voice, tired from the day and sated by your actions.
“What a treat indeed my love,” you retort, tangling your limbs with his for sleep.
Ezra huffs a small laugh and pulls you tighter to him. You lay content surrounded by him, your taste for him fulfilled.
Summary: Modern AU. You’re insecure about your cheeks, not liking how chubby they are, and worst of all, that when you smile they take over your face and eyes.
A/N: Is this from my own insecurity? abso-fucking-lutely! Did I write this on campus between classes? Also yes. Also a huge thank you to @writer-darling for always hyping me up!
Buttercup is used once as a pet name, sorry if you don’t like Buttercup BUT it works with the flowery pet names!
Summary: Modern AU. You’re insecure about your cheeks, not liking how chubby they are, and worst of all, that when you smile they take over your face and eyes.
A/N: Is this from my own insecurity? abso-fucking-lutely! Did I write this on campus between classes? Also yes. Also a huge thank you to @writer-darling for always hyping me up!
Buttercup is used once as a pet name, sorry if you don’t like Buttercup BUT it works with the flowery pet names!
Summary: Modern AU. You’re insecure about your cheeks, not liking how chubby they are, and worst of all, that when you smile they take over your face and eyes.
A/N: Is this from my own insecurity? abso-fucking-lutely! Did I write this on campus between classes? Also yes. Also a huge thank you to @writer-darling for always hyping me up!
Buttercup is used once as a pet name, sorry if you don’t like Buttercup BUT it works with the flowery pet names!
….ok ok we’re ACTUALLY the same person. High key this is one of my biggest insecurities AS WELL because my family points out how chubby my cheeks are ALL THE TIME (they do it as an endearment bUT STILL)
And honey, I firmly believe Ezra would have a MILLION nicknames for you and Buttercup IS DEFINITELY ONE OF THEM (so feel free to use whichever ones you like! )
Final note: I LOVED THIS
Tehe thank you and your beautifully STUNNING babes! ☺️
Summary: Modern AU. You’re insecure about your cheeks, not liking how chubby they are, and worst of all, that when you smile they take over your face and eyes.
A/N: Is this from my own insecurity? abso-fucking-lutely! Did I write this on campus between classes? Also yes. Also a huge thank you to @writer-darling for always hyping me up!
Buttercup is used once as a pet name, sorry if you don’t like Buttercup BUT it works with the flowery pet names!
Summary: Modern AU. You’re insecure about your cheeks, not liking how chubby they are, and worst of all, that when you smile they take over your face and eyes.
A/N: Is this from my own insecurity? abso-fucking-lutely! Did I write this on campus between classes? Also yes. Also a huge thank you to @writer-darling for always hyping me up!
Buttercup is used once as a pet name, sorry if you don’t like Buttercup BUT it works with the flowery pet names!
You stand in the mirror, ready to go out with Ezra for the evening, staring at your face. Turning your face from side to side to get a full view of your cheeks. You give a small closed mouth smile, a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes because you hate how your cheeks overcrowd your face when you do so. You try a full smile, your eyes squinting as your cheeks rise and take over. You think it makes your face look like a balloon expanding. You allow your face to drop and say a quiet ‘no’ to yourself before repeating the small smile, confirming to yourself that that would be your smile from now on.
You’re so wrapped up in your own head that you don’t notice Ezra standing some ways away, watching you, observing your actions and reactions. He knows exactly what you’re doing, he can tell by the judgment and hate he sees in your eyes. Ezra wishes more than anything that you’d see yourself the way he sees you.
“What’s plaguing your thoughts, Flower?”
You snap away from the mirror, startled at his presence.
“Nothing. Let’s go,” you reply hurriedly.
When you go to pass him, he sets his hand on your midsection, not allowing you to pass.
“Now, I may not be the most educated man but I ain’t no fool. What’s wrong?”
He moves his hand to the side of your face, forcing you to look at him. His warm umber eyes make you feel safe in a way that you can’t hold anything back from him.
“It’s petty, really. Self-absorbed”
”Well it can’t be petty if it’s got my flower wilting.”
You take a deep breath, “I don’t like my cheeks. Especially when I smile.”
Ezra’s brows knit in confusion, “Your cheeks?”
“Yes. They’re fat, they make my face round. They take up my whole face when I smile and cover the only nice thing about my face: my eyes.” You blurt.
Now, Ezra standing closely in front of you takes your face in both hands.
“Oh Buttercup. You’re absolutely perfect, your beauty alone is that of which artists dream. How can you dislike the fact that joy takes over your face, your smile is contagious. When you smile the world shines a little brighter.”
“But when I smile you can barely see my eyes”
Ezra kisses your forehead, “I can’t argue that I don’t love your eyes because I do, well I absolutely adore everything about you. However, when your smile reaches your eyes, it is like two heavens colliding. You should never be ashamed of how happy you are and look, the world needs your smile. I need your smile.”
You take a deep breath, letting his words sink in. A small seed of insecurity still lays deep within but it seems silly now in comparison to the adoration you get from Ezra alone. You look up at Ezra and can’t help but let out a laugh of relief, which of course gets you to smile.
“There’s my ray of sunshine! Now, shall we?”
Ezra offers his arm to you, which you gladly take. And for the rest of the evening, you can’t seem to stop smiling.
Requested?: Yes from this ask - I loved Speak!!’ Ezra is such a dad. Maybe when your done with all your other requests can you do a part 2 where it’s set after the movie where they make it to the station and Ezra teaches her how to speak and maybe she tells him why she didn’t talk. You could come why she didn’t talk before
Author’s note: I slightly changed it to where she knows how to speak yet refuses.
I don’t give permission for my work to be posted on another site with the exception of tumblr and AO3 (where I post the stories myself). If you find it elsewhere then it has been stolen.
After finally getting off the Green by ambushing a group of people to obtain their vessel, you, Cee, and Ezra make it back to the station. Medical personnel were there to greet the three of you. You and Cee watched as Ezra was carted off to have his arm further examined while you and Cee sat in the medical bay, only for observation and to get the two of you fed and hydrated.
Cee consoled you, “It’s okay, Y/N. We are fine. We’ll make it; we’ll survive. We always do.”
You had simply nodded, taking in more food and water. You then sighed and signed, “I know.” It felt as though you haven’t eaten and drank in years when it had only been a couple of weeks since the last decent meal you shared with your father and Cee on the Green before your father died.
The captain had come by to inform you and Cee, Ezra was doing fine and would eventually be given a prosthetic arm since he was an essential digger. She also informed the two of you, you and your older sister could use some rest before you started work back on the station and Cee left for the next departure to another planet to find resources to keep the station afloat until it returned to Earth in three months.
Once you and Cee were cleared from the medical bay, you made your way back towards your living quarters, which was going to feel smaller yet bigger since it was just you and Cee now. The two of you didn’t do much for the first day back except sleep, which your body desperately needed since you had barely slept a wink since Ezra walked into you and your sister’s life down on the Green.
You thought about Ezra often. Wondering how he’s doing, wondering what he’s doing. You had spoken in front of him, something you hadn’t done in ages since you could remember. Yet you do remember…you and Cee had just lost your mother and you blamed yourself, even though Cee never blamed you for her death, she always blamed your greedy hungry father for her death. You were closer to your mother whereas Cee was close to your father, mainly because Cee enjoyed going on digs and you preferred to stay behind and work on what you do best - the station’s comms system.
It’s where Ezra finds you, one day, while he’s roaming the station, trying to get his bearings back along with using the prosthetic arm the station’s doctor got him. “Afternoon, Y/N,” he remarks, his brown eyes looking at you. “Though we never know what time of day it really is up here.”
You simply nod and continue working. Getting your hands in between wires, fingers feeling them, as you make sure they are plugged into the right component. You feel Ezra hovering over you, so you look at him and motioned him to go away but he stays.
“I just wanted to see how you’re doing,” he informs you. “I ran into Cee in the mess hall.” He begins to ramble, “I guess I should watch out for the two of you. Seeing as I,” he lowered his voice to utter, “killed your father.” His voice returns to its deep timbre, “Yet he deserved it; he was tryin’ to swindle me, and I didn’t like that.”
You know he’s yammering on; most people do when they found out you don’t respond, don’t speak. It’s not like you were born with a disability, you choose not to speak because of your voice because it’s what caused…you shake your head pushing aside the thought before you truly think of it.
“What?” Ezra’s voice draws you out of your haze.
You look at him and sign, “Nothing. Please…let me work.”
“I’ve been learning more sign language since I’ve been held up.” He pauses. “Vids…even Cee. I might not know much now but eventually, I will, and we can have an actual conversation.” he chuckles, thinking the two of you will be like two peas in a pod.
“Great,” you sign with a bit of sarcasm in your motion. Of course, Cee would visit him. She and Ezra got along tremendously.
Ezra chuckles, “Even though you didn’t say it, I can feel the disdain you have.”
You roll your eyes and find the tablet needed. You begin to move your fingers against the touch screen, feeling at peace because this is what you do best. Your throat itches to speak, you had done it once before in his presence, but it was after he had helped you and he wasn’t being helpful this go around. You wish he’d just go away.
“I want to do what’s best for you, and Cee. Let me be your guys’ keeper. Gods, that sounded horrible. I mean, let me watch out for the two of you since you have no one.” Ezra declares.
Keeper? The word sticks out like a sore thumb. You’ve had enough of the man and want to return to your solitude. You place the tablet aside then stand. You sign, “You know nothing about me and Cee. As you mentioned you killed our father, yet…yet you did watch out for us afterward.” Your breath is heavy from signing furiously. “Just because you are an adult does not make you, our parent.”
Ezra swallows. He barely understood any of the signs since you moved your hands hurriedly. He knows you want to speak; you did speak to him though it was only once. “Look,” he licks his lips, knowing he’s never once done what he’s about to do, “I’m sorry. I…I didn’t mean to intrude. I was simply helping you and Cee. I’ll leave you alone.”
You watch him walk away with a hung head. Did you just watch and hear Ezra express feelings, other than greed? You shake off the thought then return to your work. You don’t need another parent. You had two and they were gone. All you have is Cee, no one else matters.
——-
Time passes by quickly as you continue with your work on the station. You don’t mind it though since Cee has accompanied Ezra on a couple of digs. Cee had been hesitant to leave you alone, but you informed and reassured her you would be fine. After all, working on the station’s comms made you feel at ease, it brought you back to yourself once again.
Ezra stayed away from you. Only doing simple greetings if he ever crossed your path. You had ignored him since the fleeting moment you had shared deep within the station when you yelled at him through your hasty hand movements. Cee could sense something was off when the three of you sat in the mess a couple of times eating dinner. She didn’t press either of you about what had happened, fearing it would evoke an argument. Though it didn’t stop her from divulging information to Ezra when he told her about the confrontation when they were on a dig together.
“She’s the youngest. So, I must watch out for her. But she is the smarter one,” Cee had chuckled. “She loved learning about everything, didn’t want to get her hands dirty,” Cee had informed him. “Y/N was close to our mom. I was close to our father, we always enjoyed going on digs. My sister stayed behind to work on the station cause our mom worked on the station. She followed in our mom’s footsteps, I followed in our father’s.”
Ezra had glanced at Cee, acknowledging why Y/N was defensive with him all those many moons ago. “She’s protective of you, and herself.” Ezra had chuckled and shaken his head. “She’s in her element back on the station.”
“She is,” Cee had replied. “It’s her world, her comfort zone. And the digs are mine.”
Ezra had only nodded in response, realizing he had disrupted you in your element. He hadn’t pressed Cee for anything else after that.
Ezra now moseys about the station. The months have flown by and in a few days, they would be returning to Earth and as Cee informed him on their last dig, she and Y/N would be going to see their family and he was more than welcomed to accompany them. He liked the idea of a found family, especially since he had looked after Cee and Y/N, though it was mainly Cee. He never had much of a family growing up and now he had one.
But an eerily feeling plagued Ezra. He had to make amends with you; he had to make sure you and he were on good terms before going on another journey to who knows where to meet the people who’ve helped raise you and will continue to raise you since both of your parents are gone.
He finds you in the belly of the station as he had done all those days ago. “Y/N,” he utters as he approaches, keeping up his defenses, afraid you might attack with your quick signage.
You stop what you’re doing and look at the man. His hair is slightly shaggier now; the blond speck is still present. The beard covering his face seems to be thicker with hints of gray. “What?” you sign. You knew he was tagging along with you and Cee once the station touched down on Earth. You had been mad at Cee for days on end until you realized you couldn’t persuade her to uninvite Ezra.
“I…I,” Ezra stammers, unsure of what to say. He ponders, “Why can’t you use your voice to talk?”
You sign slowly, “Why…does…it…matter…to…you?”
He had learned enough sign language he could almost be fluent in it, especially since Cee helped him. They didn’t have much else to do on digs when they found gems. “Cee said you were close to your mother. She says you blamed yourself for the longest time.”
“If it wasn’t for me, she’d be alive,” you sign, not holding back since Cee and Ezra have spent an abundance of time together. “I feel responsible.”
“What happened?” Ezra inquires. He then signs, “Use your voice. Please.”
Tears sting your eyes. It was because of your voice she had died. You avert your eyes and begin moving your hands out of habit, “My father…” You stop yourself and lower your hands. “She,” your voice cracks; it’s hoarse and your throat grimaces at the sensation of speaking. You wipe away your tears. “My father asked her to come along on a dig, years ago. She didn’t want to go down; she loved the station yet he persuaded her, and I wasn’t old enough to remain on my own so I went as well.” You pause, remembering the details. “We ran into trouble. Dad told us to keep quiet, Cee and I. Mom was back at the campsite. It wasn’t far from where we ran into a group trying to hijack Dad’s cache of gems.” You pause again.
Ezra takes a step forward, “It’s okay, Y/N. You can tell me.”
You look at Ezra; your eyes glazed over with tears. “Because of my voice, she died. If I…if I hadn’t spoken she would still be alive.” You begin to sob, “I had to warn her! I couldn’t lose her. The three of us couldn’t lose her! But Dad…,” your voice becomes incoherent because your sobs are uncontrollable.
Ezra gathers you gently in his arms, hugging you as softly as Cee has always done. He pets your hair soothingly, “It’s not your fault. Never was your fault.” He knows it was her father’s. If it wasn’t for that bastard, Cee and Y/N’s mother would still be alive. He pulls you apart from him. “It was your father’s. And I am sorry you lost her. Sorry, you lost a true parental connection when she was taken away from you.”
You nod profusely, wiping at your tears with the long sleeve shirt you have on. You hated being emotional even for a person of your young age.
“I promise nothing will happen to you. I will protect you and Cee. You two are the only family I have,” Ezra lopsidedly smiles, pulls faintly back, and looks at you, “and I’ve never really had a family before. So, this is new for me. But I want to let you know, you and your sister will be protected, taken care of.” Ezra searches your eyes, “I am not replacing your parents. They will always be your parents.”
“I know,” you cry softly, finding reassurance in his words.
“Good.” He hugs you again. “The three of us will always have each other.”
And he was right. All three of you had one another, whether on Earth or back in the Great Beyond. The three of you are family and you had the one thing back you thought lost forever - your voice.
There may or may not be the first part of an Ezra pirate captain AU being posted later tonight (4/16). Tags, anyone?
Okay! Friends and fellow Pedro hoes, do we think it would be best to read several chapters posted in chronological order, or would we prefer one large fic so the whole story can be read in one go?
I have decided to if not post it all together, to at least finish (mostly) writing it first. Babes I am at 9 pages and counting! I’ve got lots more to do, but it feels good to be writing something again.
Hey so how am I at 14 pages but only 6,000 words? Anyways, I know it’s been a while, so I’ll apologize to the (probably like three) people who are waiting on this fic. But uhhh….anybody want a sneak peak?
A not very queen-like snort leaves you and you step up to the railing as well, sending a nudge into his side with your elbow. “I am no royalty.”
“Indeed, you are not,” warm brown eyes seek out your own, the unreadable emotions in them holding you there. “You are m- our Moony, and in my humble opinion, well…you’re even more important.”
Words escape you at the sincerity behind his words, and you can only manage a soft “thank you, Captain,” in response. Your eyes drift down to the sea, before being drawn to your hand being scooped up by his own broad one.
“You need not always call me Captain, my gem.”
“I know, Ezra,” is your near-silent reply. Letting the quiet consume you for a few more peaceful minutes, you watch the waves roll by as the captain’s hand, the one which is not cradling yours comes up to rub circles across the back of your knuckles.
The prompt for this week’s Writer Wednesday was given by the new and improved @writer-wednesday!
Starting a new life was hard, but you found yourself enjoying the mundanity of the new town you’d settled in. It was fairly Earth-esque, with different weather regions and an overall warm atmosphere. You loved it, especially now that you’d settled down for good.
“Mr. Tregall-Dixon!” You said happily to one of your regulars. Even on safe planets like this one, people still found use for your shockingly niche set of skills. “Back already?”
Andrew smiled sheepishly, holding up his busted prosthetic hand. “Guilty.”
You didn’t complain. Andrew was a miner in the mountains, and that kind of job wasn’t made for the intricate finery of his hand. “You do know I could fit you for something a bit more durable,” you said as you led Andrew into the back and gestured to your work chair.
“My wife likes this one,” Andrew said, which was what he always said when you offered him a new hand.
The problem was the same as it always was, and you fixed it with no issues. Andrew was up and out in minutes, and you went back to your sketches, looking out over the wintery expanse of the town. It was sweet and snowy, despite being a warm seventy degrees standard. Your curtains fluttered in the slight breeze as you sat on your balcony and opened your sketchbook. Amidst drawings of machinery and sketches of gears and such, you had taken to drawing the town. You liked to have momentos, even if you were settled for a while. You didn’t know how long it would all last here.
You had gotten halfway through a sketch of the neighboring street, the star shaped light dangling from the roof mostly shaded when your bell rang.
Groaning and dragging yourself up, you set your sketchbook down and left your balcony door open as you walked over to your intercom system. “Hello?”
“Is this Dr. (L/N)?”
You snorted. “I ain’t no doctor, but that’s me.”
A hesitation, and then, “Do you have any appointments available for a prosthetics consult?”
“Right now,” you said curtly, putting one hand on your hip and calculating through the rest of your day.
“Oh.”
“I’ll buzz you in,” you said. “My room number is on the directory.”
Five minutes later, there was a knock on your door. You opened it, revealing quite possibly the most attractive scruffy one-armed man you’d ever seen. “Hello,” he said quickly. “I’m Ezra.”
“Jesus fuck Ezra,” you said, looking him up and down. “You can relax. I won’t hurt you.”
That did nothing, but you let Ezra in and gestured to your chair closest to the open balcony doors. He sat gingerly, looking around at the warmly lit studio you practically lived in. There were a strange mix of anatomical and mechanical drawings all over the walls, and you’d settled on a fairly antique vibe for your furnishings and work materials. Was that because that was what had been left in the studio when you’d purchased it and you’d been too broke to change it? Maybe.
“So,” you said, grabbing a pair of black latex gloves and snapping them on. “Let me see that arm.”
Ezra shifted in his seat and with his left hand absolutely white-knuckling the armrest, he held his right stump out to you. It was a messy injury, all sunburst scars and jagged pink edges. Must’ve been recent as well, but Ezra held it out to you all the same.
“Ouch,” is all you say, slowly and gingerly touching the stump and sitting on your rolling stool. Ezra winced as you skimmed your fingers over the warm skin, but sat as still as possible for you regardless. “I assume you want a full arm prosthetic?”
“Are there other options?”
You nodded, already beginning your sketches in your head. “Oh yeah. Half-arm, even quarter. I could do just a port, or a permanent fixture. There are loads of options.”
Ezra’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Do you think you could, I dunno, explain it all?”
“I would be here forever,” you said bluntly, turning away and grabbing a few papers. “But I can send you home with some reading.” You stapled the papers together, thumbing through them to make sure you got everything. “And you can give me a ring when you make a decision.” You scooped up a pen and began to scribble your number on the paper on top of the stack. “Or just come back. I’m hardly ever busy.”
Ezra took the papers. “That’s it?”
“Unless you want me to start measuring you today, yeah,” you said. “And when you come back next, try and start calm.” As Ezra stood, he looked sheepishly down at your chair, which had fingernail marks in the leather of the armrest. “Like I said, I won’t hurt you unless you ask me to.”
A few days passed, and the weather warmed considerably. The snow never melted, but it was a bit more resilient than Earth snow, and could blanket the town even on the warmest of days. You sat outside and drew more often than not, your mind wandering to Ezra whenever you touched pencil to paper. A few small sketches came out of those wanderings, sometimes arm ideas and sometimes a facial study done from memory. He had wonderfully stunning and oddly memorable features, and you took pride in your drawings, even if you did shove them away where no one would ever see them.
And then you got his call.
“This is Ezra,” he said when you picked up the phone.
“Ezra!” You said cheerily, spinning around on your stool and instantly spinning back, trying to untangle your phone cord. “What’s up?”
Ezra chuckled. “You sound enthusiastic.”
You smiled, looking out the window. “Of course I’m enthusiastic,” you said. “I’m bored and you just called.”
“Well,” Ezra said. “I read over the papers. I think a full mechanical prosthetic is what I want.”
Nodding, you began to dig through a drawer, unearthing a thick folder of concepts and blueprints. “No port?”
“Not yet.”
You didn’t press, merely pulled a few papers out and started to tack them onto a cork board you’d helpfully labeled with Ezra’s name. “Alright!” You said happily. “I can see you for measurements and concepting anytime you want, today or tomorrow it looks like,” you added, wheeling over to your planner. “Once we start building, I’ll have you schedule appointments.”
There was some muffled conversation, and then Ezra’s voice returned, clear as it would get. “I can come today,” he said slowly.
“But?”
“I have to bring my ward with me.”
You looked around your shop. “If they’re older than twelve, feel free,” you decided. “If not, I can’t let you in. My shop isn’t exactly child friendly.”
“She’s nineteen,” Ezra said. “So, I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“See you then!” You said, putting your phone down and smiling involuntarily, eyes tracing across your desk until they landed on a sketch of Ezra’s side profile. You shook your head, clearing your thoughts of Ezra as you stood up and began to gather your materials.
Of course, Ezra never truly left your head as you cleaned, making the space appropriate for both guests and work. Finally, after half an hour of cleaning and trying to scrub Ezra from your brain, the bell rang.
“Come in!” You shouted into the intercom, not even bothering to confirm it was Ezra. But you heard him chuckling as the intercom fizzed out, and couldn’t help your small smile.
As with last time, exactly five minutes later, Ezra was knocking on your door. You opened it, seeing Ezra and a skinny little blonde girl standing beside him.
“Ezra,” you said. “And your ward.”
“This is Cee,” Ezra said. “She’s staying with me for, well,”
“Ever,” Cee supplied sweetly. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”
You snorted a laugh, barely swallowing it and grinning at Cee. “I like you,” you decided. “C’mon in.”
Thankfully, Ezra was a bit more relaxed than last time, chatting with you as you measured every aspect of his stump twice. He was shockingly easy to talk to, and before you knew it, you were sitting back and smiling, a page full of measurements in front of you. “Alright,” you said, shutting your book and tucking it into the pile of papers on your desk. “Here. Take a look.” You scooped up a file folder of potential designs, handing them to Ezra. “Cee, why don’t you look through them too?”
While Cee and Ezra looked at the designs, you began to grab the materials you’d need for the arm base. Regardless of the design choice, each arm had a similar base. Gears, cogs, springs, even minuscule engines went clattering onto a rolling tray, accompanied shortly by leather and cloth.
“I think it’s been decided,” Ezra finally said, handing you a sketch. You looked it over, humming and nodding and tacking it up on your cork board.
“I’ll begin making the sleeve,” you said. “And then, when I’m mostly done, I’ll call you to make an appointment. This whole process is a lot of back and forth like that.” As you spoke, you pulled a few more intricate blueprints for the arm Ezra chose, tacking them up as well. “We can discuss payment at your next appointment.”
In the end, it took you a little over two months to complete the arm. It was a mechanic’s nightmare, but you loved every second of it. Plus, Ezra was your new favorite client. He was sweet and kind and held a conversation better than anyone you’d ever met. You spoke about anything and everything, your past and his. As you learned about his time exiled on the Green, you began to call him a collection of nicknames, your favorite being Space Boy. He retaliated by calling you Doc, despite your many insistences that you had absolutely no medical license. Slowly, as the weather grew colder and the snow piled higher, you found yourself falling in love with the man who’d fallen from the moons and into your heart.
The last day you were scheduled to see Ezra, he came in bundled to the heavens, snow peppering his hair and clothes. “Sorry I’m late!” He said, unwrapping his scarf. “It’s absolute murder out there.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” you said, tossing Ezra the harness for his arm. He slipped it on, pulling the clasps tight. “My heating unit has been going all week. It’s a nightmare.” You picked up the arm, holding it out. “How’s it look?”
“Fucking beautiful,” Ezra breathed. You grinned, stepping closer.
Slowly adjusting the arm, you showed Ezra how to attach it to the harness and how to activate it. He picked it up fast, and before you knew it, you were walking him through some calibrating exercises.
“Alright,” you said, grabbing a rubber ball. “Catch.”
The ball sailed through the air and Ezra caught it cleanly with his right hand. You clapped. “Good!” You said. “Now throw it back.”
Your game of catch lasted a few more rounds before you continued through some precision tests. After confirming Ezra could write, hold, and move each of his new fingers individually, you sat back with a satisfied smile. “I think you’re all good,” you said. “Try and take it easy for a few days. Don’t overexert your arm, or I might kill you.”
Ezra chuckled, wiggling his new fingers. “Will do Doc.”
“How many times do I have to tell you I have absolutely no medical license,” you said with a smile. “You’re officially free to go.”
“Come with me?” Ezra asked, standing and donning his coat.
You raised an eyebrow. “Where?”
“Coffee,” Ezra said. “Down the street. I feel like I owe you after what you did for me.”
You snorted, already grabbing your own coat and scarf. “Are you asking me out?”
“Are you going to say no?”
You laughed, pushing Ezra’s hat down over his eyes and taking his organic hand. “C’mon Space Boy,” you said cheerfully. “Let’s go, before I say no.”
Ezra wrinkled his nose at you as you stepped out into the street, a smile warming his reddening cheeks. “Could you ever say no to me?”
Feeling the warmth from Ezra’s fingers through your gloves, the tingling of snow on your skin, the joy in your chest, you looked at Ezra, grinning. “I don’t think so,” you decided. “I really don’t think so.”
Here is my masterlist of all my fics for Kinktober 2021! All fics are labeled with what type of reader they are and all other warnings can be found on the fics themselves. Obviously, these all contain smut so no one under 18 should be reading or interacting with these fics please! Header made by me!
To stay updated on when I post, feel free to follow my fic update blog @flightlessangelwings-updates and turn on post notifications!
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.
In The Dark by @frannyzooey is beautiful and I just had to draw some fanart for it!
MAIA ❤️
oh my god?!
No joke, I was waiting for a conference call to start and eating a cracker when I clicked on this notif and I legit choked because I inhaled so hard, and then immediately started getting all teary eyed? A roller coaster of emotions over here, lol
And now I’m ignoring said call to immediately reblog this and I love that for us
The colors in this are absolutely gorgeous — that IS the afternoon light of her place, the golden glow washing over their bare skin and this is so pretty it makes me ache ❤️
I know EXACTLY which picture you used for reference and I am overjoyed because that is exactly how I envisioned these two, rejoicing in this culmination of their yearning! And you did an incredible job with their content expressions? Their body language? Their hold on each other, their smiles, that temple kiss?! The way they are pressed together is drawn so sensory and sensual and I’m obsessed with you self inserting in this one ❤️
The lines in this are so clean, so neat and the blending on their skin is absolute perfection I am LOOKING at that man’s strong, bare back and his perfect hair and his jawline— every line of his muscles is done so perfectly ❤️
Should I be this attracted to a drawing? If you drew it, then yes
Thank you so so so much for drawing and sharing this — it’s not only incredibly generous, to spend your time making art for others, but I can’t even describe to you the joy this has brought me. I love this so much — almost as much as I love you ❤️
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.
if you don’t reblog this it’s all good, but r e m e m b e r to REBLOG andmaybe reply too, ya know? that’s also nice the original posts bc these people are blessing us with their writing for f r e e!!! likes are nice and all but they don’t get writings anywhere really! having a lot of notes is cool and whatnot but actuallyreblogging something is ✨ so yeah be the real mvp and reblog the author’s works bye!
*if your stuff isn’t here: it’s not you, it’s me! i’m a lazy ass! and also i couldn’t keep up with the amount of works being posted if you would like to be added pls just message me orfill this form! i know adding absolutely everyone is impossible at this point, but i’d love to add as many people as possible, i mean it
if you don’t reblog this it’s all good, but r e m e m b e r to REBLOG andmaybe reply too, ya know? that’s also nice the original posts bc these people are blessing us with their writing for f r e e!!! likes are nice and all but they don’t get writings anywhere really! having a lot of notes is cool and whatnot but actuallyreblogging something is ✨ so yeah be the real mvp and reblog the author’s works bye!
*if your stuff isn’t here: it’s not you, it’s me! i’m a lazy ass! and also i couldn’t keep up with the amount of works being posted if you would like to be added pls just message me orfill this form! i know adding absolutely everyone is impossible at this point, but i’d love to add as many people as possible, i mean it
if you don’t reblog this it’s all good, but r e m e m b e r to REBLOG andmaybe reply too, ya know? that’s also nice the original posts bc these people are blessing us with their writing for f r e e!!! likes are nice and all but they don’t get writings anywhere really! having a lot of notes is cool and whatnot but actuallyreblogging something is ✨ so yeah be the real mvp and reblog the author’s works bye!
*if your stuff isn’t here: it’s not you, it’s me! i’m a lazy ass! and also i couldn’t keep up with the amount of works being posted if you would like to be added pls just message me orfill this form! i know adding absolutely everyone is impossible at this point, but i’d love to add as many people as possible, i mean it
Summary: After a couple of lonely months as a new transplant to New York City, you meet Cee in your grad school writing class and hit it off immediately. Finally finding a friend, you wouldn’t risk upsetting that for the world — until she invites you over for dinner one night and you meet her guardian, Ezra. Immediately drawn to each other, you both know it would be wrong to get involved — but you just can’t help it.
Rating:none now, but this will be an age gap fic - I’ll rate it explicit when we get there
A/N: Thank you to @krissologyand@javierpcna who I made read this so many times it’s embarrassing, who schooled me on punctuation and tenses and taught your girl some things and to @highsviolets who encouraged this idea (as with all my ideas) from the very start. This is my very first foray into Ezra - I hope you like it!
–
Shadows pooled in the corners of your small living room, the lamp beside you casting a golden glow that didn’t quite reach them and you sat slumped on the couch in your sweats. One hand rested on the trackpad of your laptop scrolling through the NYU student group page, your other hand cradling a bowl of mac and cheese.
It was late — later than you should be up with school starting tomorrow, and even though your eyes were getting dry from staring at the screen, you were absorbed in your task; your face illuminated in the dusk of the room.
Your finger stroked down, the page slowly moving.
Tuesday Night: Board Game Group
You scrunched your nose — board games had too many complicated rules these days and the people who played them were always so competitive. No thanks.
Wednesday afternoon: Watercolors
You debated this one, taking a slow bite of the pasta. As you read the description, you realized the time clashed with one of your classes. Shoot. Nevermind.
Thursday evening: Trivia Night
Eyebrows raising, you thought you might actually be good at something like that. You hesitated though, thinking of the type of people those things seemed to attract: hipsters, pop culture fanatics, oddly intense competitive types, gatekeepers. Judgmental, but true.
