tags: (mutual) pining, fluff , museum AU, first date, all the space references, Ezra talking in tongues aka being a poetic bastard, kissing
summary: One quiet night shift at the museum, you begin to see Ezra and the stars a little differently.
word count: ~ 1,2 k
notes: This is my first time writing Ezra, he’s actually my second favorite Pedro boy and it was so tricky trying to capture his essence. But I think I might just be a little in love with how this turned out. As always highly approved by my partner in crime @rhapsodyofdarkness <3
The museum is quiet at night. The kind of quiet that hums.
Most of the lights are dimmed, except for the soft glow over the Saturn V replica and the looping projection of a nebula blooming in violet and blue. You’d almost forgotten Ezra was still here until he speaks.
“It’s curious, isn’t it,” he murmurs, not looking at you. “The cosmos—so full of soundless catastrophe. Stars collapsing, planets cracking in silence.”
You glance at him. He stands like a statue among the stars, arms crossed behind his back, jacket half-buttoned, silver ring catching the light. You’ve worked with him for months, but never this late. Never this still.
“You talk like you’ve been there,” you say, half a tease.
He turns his head slowly, the corner of his mouth lifting just so. “Some might say I’ve wandered close.”
There’s a moment where the room stretches out around you—endless, like space—and you suddenly understand why people lean in when Ezra speaks.
He nods toward the constellation map behind glass. “Ever wonder why we name the stars after gods and monsters? Perhaps to remind ourselves how small we are. Or perhaps,” his gaze returns to you, “because we see ourselves in them.”
“You always this serious about space?” you ask, half-teasing.
He doesn’t turn right away. “Is it not deserving of reverence?” he murmurs, then glances over, a flicker of a smile on his lips. “Forgive me. I’ve grown fond of silence that listens back.”
You step closer. “I like stars. Moons, too. Just… don’t know much about them.”
Ezra tilts his head, considering you. “Fondness is a fine start. Should you ever wish for knowledge to accompany it, I would be… most obliging.”
Something about the way he says it—like an invitation wrapped in starlight—makes your breath hitch.
Later, when the lights dim and the museum sleeps behind locked doors, you find yourselves outside in the warm night air. The city buzzes somewhere beyond, but here, under the sky, it’s still.
“Same stars,” you murmur, tipping your face toward the sky.
Ezra follows your gaze. “Indeed. Familiar strangers, ever above. It’s comforting, I think… how they persist.”
You glance at him, shoulder barely brushing his. “You’re kind of comforting, too.”
He chuckles softly, more breath than sound. “Careful. Flattery may earn you my undivided attention.”
And for a second longer than necessary, neither of you move. Just the stars, and the hush of something just beginning.
—
The second shift comes days later. Ezra’s uncharacteristically fidgety, adjusting his cuffs too often, toying with the silver ring he’s always wearing, clearing his throat like a man rehearsing lines he already knows by heart.
You notice, of course you do.
At closing time, as you flip off the lights and lock the front doors in your usual routine, Ezra lingers, then turns to you.
“There is… a thought that has made residence in my mind,” he says.
You arch a brow. “Yeah?”
“I wonder if you’d… permit me the indulgence of your company. For dinner. Or stargazing. Maybe both.” His hands are behind his back again, almost like he’s trying to steady himself. “I’m aware we are coworkers, and I mean no undue pressure. But—”
You smile, cutting him off gently. “That might not be the best idea.”
A pause, his eyes searching your face before he speaks again.
“Might not,” he echoes, voice soft. “But not ‘won’t.’ I’ll take those odds.”
You laugh, flustered and a little stunned. “You’re persistent.”
He bows his head slightly. “A man in orbit cannot help but be drawn to gravity.”
—
He picks you up three days later. Not in a car but with a bike. An old one, polished up, with a second helmet in hand and a hopeful look in his eyes. It’s adorable and maybe a tiny bit odd, but Ezra’s charming enough that you don’t care.
You ride with your arms around his waist as the city melts behind you, until he pulls over near a clearing just outside town. The air smells like summer and hushed quiet. The remnants of heat are still lingering in the air.
You lie down in the grass, and Ezra—gentle, nerdy, utterly himself—points out constellations in between breathless, wonder-soaked facts.
“Did you know Jupiter’s moon Europa might have a whole ocean beneath its surface?” he whispers, voice low and reverent. “It’s encased in ice, yes, but some believe… there could be life in that hidden dark.”
You turn your head to look at him, smiling softly. “I didn’t know that, interesting.”
You let the warmth of the day slowly sink into you from the earth beneath your spine as you keep listening to him and feel strangely at ease. Above you, the stars scatter across the velvet dark like they’ve been waiting for this moment, too.
Ezra falls quiet for a long moment, his voice fading into a reverent hush after sharing a string of space facts you’d soaked up like a sponge. It’s clear how deeply he burns for it—the stars, the silence between them—and the way he speaks, so confident and alive, makes your heart flutter. It’s like he belongs up there somehow, like space is a second home he’s been exiled from.
You turn your head to look at him and find he’s already watching you. Not with the curiosity of a coworker, or the polite observation of someone making conversation. He’s watching you like a man witnessing the aurora for the first time. Like you’ve cracked something open in him that even he hadn’t realized was waiting. His eyes are soft, the tiniest hint of a smile around his lips.
There’s a long pause, the kind that fills your chest with a warmth you can’t yet name.
"You know," he says, barely above a whisper, "in all my wanderings… I've never encountered a sky that feels quite like this."
You breathe in slowly, pulse thudding in your ears. “Why this one?”
He hesitates, then leans in just slightly, like he’s afraid to break the stillness. “Because tonight, I find myself wishing for permanence. And you…” His voice falters for half a second, eyes searching yours. “You remind me that gravity is not a burden, but a choice.”
Your breath catches. You blink once, twice. “Ezra—”
But he’s already moving. Slowly, giving you time to stop him, even as his hand finds the curve of your jaw, fingers feather-light. His gaze drops to your lips, then back up, checking in. And when you don’t pull away—when you lean in, just a breath’s width closer, he kisses you.
Soft, careful, full of restraint, like he’s savoring the moment. Like he’s not just kissing you, but memorizing the shape of the stars reflected in your eyes just minutes ago.
Like you’re a constellation he’s been trying to name for a very long time.
Who is up for a trip into space with Ezra & the chaos that follows the man who doesn’t have many rules. I know I am.
Synopsis:- Ezra has hired you as a guide on this new planet, little does he know the danger is very real.
Word Count:- 850
Warnings:- Mild peril & threat, drawing weapons without thinking, recklessness, no following orders, tense.
Thanks for the read peoples, I hope you are enjoying these so far & how I’m linking them to Star Wars. See you tomorrow for tiny & shiny.
The planet didn’t look like it trusted anyone. That was your first thought as you stepped off the transport.
Dust hung in the air like it belonged there, thick, clinging to everything it touched, including your throat even through your mask. The landing site wasn’t much more than a cleared strip of land & a few crates that had seen better years.
You’d been told to expect a visitor who wanted to explore the planet, but as the other ship landed, you were greeted by someone arrogant enough that you could tell from his walk he wouldn’t take your guidance seriously.
Ezra arrived like he didn’t fully belong to the moment, boots hitting the ground like he was already halfway to somewhere else. Confident, yes, but in a way that felt more practiced than safe.
“So you’re the guide then?” he asked, looking you over like he was trying to decide if this was a mistake. Your protective suit had definitely seen better days.
“Yes. & you’re the one paying for the service,” you replied simply.
That earned him a grin. Small. Quick. Like it slipped out before he could stop it.
“Fair enough.” He muttered into his communicator.
He didn’t listen properly after that. Of course he didn’t. Ezra had the kind of energy that suggested rules were optional suggestions at best. He drifted ahead of you as you led him through the terrain, talking like he knew where he was going even when he clearly didn’t. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t rein him in.
“This place has potential,” he said, kicking at the ground. “People always underestimate potential.”
“You’re going to get lost,” you replied without looking at him, checking your own scanner for anything unusual.
“I don’t get lost,” he said.
You stopped walking. He took a few more steps before realising.
“…you’re already lost,” you said.
He turned back, unbothered. “I’m exploring.”
“You’re trespassing, Ezra.”
“Same thing, depending on who you ask.”
That was when the sound changed. A shift in the air. A low warning rumble through the trees ahead, deep enough to make the space feel suddenly smaller.
Ezra slowed. So did you.
Then it stepped out. Large. Heavy. Fur bristling like the whole world had offended it personally.
A Wookiee.
Ezra froze.
L
“…okay,” he said quietly. “That’s new.”
The Wookiee let out a sound that didn’t need translation. It wasn’t friendly, it shook the ground beneath you.
Ezra slowly raised his hands. “I didn’t do anything,” he said, far too calmly for someone currently standing in front of something that looked ready to throw him through a tree.
The Wookiee growled again.
You stepped forward.
“Easy,” you said softly.
Ezra looked at you like you’d lost your mind. “That’s your plan?”
“Trust me.”
“I don’t even know your name properly yet.”
You ignored him. Another step forward. Slower this time. Controlled. You spoke again, lower, steady, not demanding, not challenging. One hand stayed open in front of you, showing you were no threat, even as Ezra hovered behind you like he was considering every possible exit route.
The Wookiee hesitated. Its posture shifted. Not fully calm, but less certain.
Ezra glanced between you & it.
“…you’re actually doing something,” he muttered.
“Shh,” you snapped. “Try not to sound too shocked. Now put that blaster away & outstretch one hand.”
“But it’s…”
“Just do it, Ezra.” Your tone left no room for argument.
Slowly, he did. The tension didn’t vanish, but it loosened. The creature made another sound, softer now, uncertain rather than aggressive.
Eventually, the Wookiee backed off. Not gone. Just deciding this wasn’t worth it. With one final warning sound, it turned & disappeared into the trees.
Silence settled back in. Ezra didn’t move for a second. Then he exhaled, like he’d forgotten how.
“…right,” he said. “Okay.”
You turned back to him. “You still with me?”
“Unfortunately.”
You gave him a look. He huffed a small laugh, brushing dust off his jacket like that explained everything. But his expression wasn’t fully joking anymore, there was real shock sitting behind his eyes.
“You just saved me,” he said. “I was ready to…”
“It was a misunderstanding,” you replied.
“That doesn’t usually matter.”
You shrugged. “It did this time. Wookiees don’t care for surprises.”
He studied you then, properly this time. Not like cargo. Not like a guide. Like something else he hadn’t accounted for.
“You’re the only person who’s ever tried to save me,” he said, quieter now. The words hung there longer than anything else on this planet. You didn’t make it bigger than it needed to be.
“You’re welcome,” you said simply. “That’s what you pay for.”
That got a small laugh out of him, softer this time.
“Yeah,” he said, shaking his head slightly as he started walking again, falling into step beside you. “I think I might keep you around a bit longer than planned.”
You glanced at him.
“Try not to get eaten again.”
“No promises.” He said it like a joke, but stayed closer as you both set off into the unknown anyway.
established relationship, negative body image, anxiety attack, emotional support
Summary: Ezra has not been the same since losing his arm in the Green. When he suffers an anxiety attack, he reveals his biggest fear — not being enough for you.
A/N: I love Ezra with all my heart and I can only imagine how difficult it must be to navigate life after losing an arm, especially in “ordinary” situations such as hugging the person he loves. I just had to give him reassurance and comfort. 🤍 masterlist | AO3
“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”
- Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince
The dim glow of the moonlight casts a soft illumination across the room, highlighting shadows that dance on the walls. The silence of the night is broken by a subtle sound — a muffled sob that echoes through the otherwise quiet hut. You lie on your cot, eyes wide open, unable to ignore the pattern that has emerged over the past few nights any longer.
Ezra, the enigmatic prospector you’ve come to recognize and admire for his strength and composure over the past year of your partnership, is struggling.
You can hear him pacing in the living area, a restless energy evident in each step. Occasionally, a stifled whimper escapes him, the weight of his emotions too much to contain. It’s a painful symphony of anxiety that unfolds behind the closed door.
As much as you want to respect his privacy, the concern gnaws at you, urging you to offer support. You slip out of your covers and put on your sweater, guided by the muted sounds emanating from your partner. The door creaks softly as you open it, revealing Ezra standing near the window, his silhouette framed by the moonlight.
His gaze is fixed on the distant moon, his shoulders are hunched, and his hand grips the edge of the windowsill as if anchoring himself in a storm. His breathing is rapid, shallow, and you can see the distress in his eyes.
It’s clear that he’s in the midst of an anxiety attack.
You immediately move towards him, concern etching your features. “Ezra, hey, what’s going on?” Your voice is soft, trying to cut through the chaotic thoughts that might be racing through his mind.
He looks up at you, his eyes wide with panic, and it takes a moment for him to register your presence. “I–I don’t know,” he stammers, his words coming out in fragments. “It just–it hit me.”
You move to stand beside him, giving him some space while remaining close enough to offer comfort. “It’s okay, Ezra. I’m here. Take deep breaths with me, alright?” You model the slow, deliberate inhales and exhales, hoping he’ll follow suit.
He tries to mimic your breathing, but it’s clear that the anxiety has a tight grip on him. His chest rises and falls rapidly, and his attempts to regulate his breath are met with resistance.
“Focus on me, Ezra,” you encourage, gently placing a hand on his back to rub soothing circles into his strained muscles. “You’re safe here. Let’s try it together. In…and out.”
It takes a while, but gradually, his breathing starts to sync with yours. The rhythm becomes steadier, and you can feel some of the tension beginning to dissipate. Still, his eyes are wide with residual fear.
“Do you think you can tell me what triggered this?” you ask, your voice soft and understanding, sympathy evident in your eyes.
Ezra shakes his head and lifts his gaze to meet yours, struggling to find the words to properly convey the inner turmoil he is facing. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice breaking.
“Everything just felt...overwhelming. I couldn’t catch my breath for the life of me, and my mind started racing like a runaway train — thoughts careening in every direction. Images, memories, and possibilities colliding, creating a chaotic symphony of ideas that I struggled to make sense of.”
You nod, recognizing the unpredictable nature of anxiety. “It’s alright, Ezra,” you coo. “Sometimes, our minds can play tricks on us and cause us to feel everything at once.” You continue tenderly rubbing his back. “What’s important is that you’re not alone, and I need you to know that you’re not alone.”
Ezra takes another deep breath and nods weakly, the color slowly returning to his face. “I am truly sorry for disturbing your peace, sugar plum,” he mumbles, apologizing for something beyond his control.
“You don’t need to apologize,” you reassure him, a comforting smile gracing your lips.
When you feel his muscles tense again, you can’t help but furrow your brow with worry. “Look at me, Ezra,” you prompt quietly, reaching out to gently place a hand on his arm. “Will you tell me what’s going on? I might be able to help, you know.”
You search his dark eyes and softly rub the skin beneath his shirt’s short sleeve. “But I need you to let me in.”
He looks out of the window again, avoiding your gaze, and you can see the remnants of dread in his eyes, vulnerability evident in the set of his shoulders.
“There’s nothing going on that needs to trouble that beautiful mind of yours, sugar plum. Just a rough night.” He shakes his head and glances at you, sensing that his attempt at deception, in this case for your own good, is not having its desired effect.
You know him too well, know the man behind the rugged, sly persona he’s been cultivating as a survival tactic. You know what’s hidden beneath, shielded from prying eyes, only revealed to the people who are worthy of his love and devotion — first Cee, now you.
“Ezra, I’ve heard you. I’ve heard you pacing, and I’ve heard the tears. It’s not ‘nothing’.” You cup his cheek with your hand, your eyes boring into his. “You don’t have to hide from me.”
He takes a deep breath, the facade slipping away as he meets your eyes, his shoulders trembling slightly. He hesitates for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “I just–I cannot seem to shake this feeling, this overwhelming feeling of grief and hopelessness that is threatening to pull me down into the depths of darkness every time I am alone with my thoughts.”
You see the tears welling up in his eyes and feel your heart break in your chest.
Ezra looks away, trying to contain the flood of emotions threatening to spill over. “I thought I could handle the memories floating around in my mind, memories of death, destruction, greed, loss. I honestly, truly thought I could move on with my life, be a better man for you and Cee, and lead an honorable life here in our community. On this stunning piece of land I am so fortunate to find myself on.”
He clenches his fist, and closes his eyes.
“But it is always there, always, always there. No matter what I do. No matter how hard I try. It is always lurking in the shadows of my existence, following me, holding me back.” He sighs deeply and opens his eyes to look at you, his brow furrowed. “I am haunted by the absence of my arm. I miss him deeply, in everything I do. And at night, when darkness takes over, when everything is quiet, it is all I can think about.
It’s a pain that goes beyond the physical, a yearning for a wholeness that seems elusive.”
He turns to face you fully, gently tracing your cheek with the back of his fingers. Your heart aches for him, understanding the weight of his words.
“I am broken beyond repair, my darling, and I cannot help but feel that you would be better off if I was go–”
Without a word, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a warm and reassuring embrace. Ezra hesitates for a moment, surprised by the sudden contact, but then he leans into the hug, allowing himself to be enveloped by the comfort you offer.
The room around you is silent, and all that can be heard is the subtle sound of his breath.
You can feel the tension in Ezra’s body as he wraps his arm around you, the heavy burden, the weight of his grief he’s been carrying alone all this time. Slowly, you start to sway gently, a rhythm that seems to soothe the troubled thoughts that linger in his mind. The embrace is tight but gentle, a silent reassurance that he’s not alone — and that you’re not going anywhere.
As you hold him, you sense a subtle shift in his demeanor. A quiver runs through his body, and you realize he’s starting to cry. It’s a quiet, almost imperceptible release of emotions that he's been holding back for too long. You tighten your grip, offering him a safe space to let go.
“You’re not alone in this, Ezra,” you whisper. “Losing a part of yourself is a profound loss and it’s okay to hurt. It’s okay to grieve. And you don’t have to be silent about it. I’m here for you.”
After a while, the tears subside, and you loosen your embrace just enough to look into his eyes with sincerity, keeping your hands on his shoulders.
Ezra’s eyes glisten with hurt and uncertainty, something you’ve never seen in them before. You brush away a stray tear from his cheek, your touch gentle and calming.
“I cannot adequately describe how much I despise myself for not being able to do this properly — the way you deserve, my precious sugar plum,” he murmurs, pain straining his voice.
You tilt your head in confusion, unable to decipher what exactly he’s talking about. “What do you mean?” you ask softly, a reassuring smile prompting him to answer you.
“This,” he whispers as he pulls you closer, resting his forehead against yours with closed eyes. “I cannot help but think about how my missing arm, my incompleteness, prevents me from embracing you properly. You deserve the world, my darling, and I can’t even present you with a hug. You deserve a man who can hold you close and show you the love and affection you deserve, and I am truly sorry for having deprived you for so long.”
You pull away enough to look into his eyes again, anger now simmering beneath your skin.
How dare this capable, intelligent, and loyal man entertain the notion that he deprived you of anything. Throughout your time together, all he’s done is take care of you, offering you a life teeming with adventure and love. It’s unfathomable that, even for a fleeting moment, he would think you’d be better off without him.
“I love you, Ezra, and I understand what you’re trying to say, I really do,” you say as calmly as possible, taking deep breaths. “But I need you to listen to me very carefully now because I need you to hear and understand every word. Can you do that?”
“Of course, my darling,” he answers with a nod. “You have my undivided attention.”
Your features soften as you witness the sad admiration in his gaze. “I can’t imagine how unimaginably traumatizing it must have been to lose your arm, having to adapt and relearn everything you knew how to do before. But you did it, you persevered. Because you are strong.”
You lift your hand to cup his cheek, causing him to lean into your touch immediately. “I have seen the incredible progress you’ve made since you and Cee arrived here and, Ezra, I’m so fucking proud of you.”
He looks at you, a mix of gratitude and disbelief in his eyes, a single tear making its way down his cheek.
“But I can’t even hug you. I can’t hold you like I want to, like I should be able to.”
You smile, reaching up to wipe away the tear. “Ezra, a hug is not just about arms. It’s about connection, about being close to someone. And in case you haven’t noticed, our hug right now is pretty perfect to me.”
He chuckles through a tear-streaked smile, a flicker of relief in his eyes. “You really think so, sugar plum?”
“I know so,” you affirm with a genuine smile on your lips. “Your worth isn’t determined by the number of limbs you have. It’s about the person you are, the heart you have, and the way you make people feel — what matters is this.”
You gently take his hand and guide it to your chest, so he can feel the steady rhythm of your heart beneath the fabric of your sweater. “You feel this?” He nods slowly as you put your hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat.
“You aren’t broken, my love. You’re human.”
Ezra takes a moment to absorb your words, and you can see a shift in his demeanor. The weight on his shoulders seems to lighten and you can see the spark in his beautiful, dark eyes return.
“You’re perfect just the way you are, Ezra,” you coo. “And if you ever feel the darkness pull at you again, try to remember that you have someone here who sees you, all of you, and thinks the absolute world of you.”
He nods, his signature smile spreading across his face. “Thank you, my darling,” he says, his voice filled with gratitude.
You pull him back into your arms, holding him close once more.
In that moment, you both find solace in the simple act of being together. The room is filled with the quiet understanding that perfection isn’t about the absence of flaws but about embracing every part of oneself — scars and all.
“After all my time floating through this forsaken universe, searching for meaning,” he murmurs into your ear, a soft smile gracing his lips, “it turns out that love is the answer. Quite poetic, don’t you think?”
—
You and Ezra are snowed in at your little cabin and there’s nothing to do but each other.
I wrote this back before Christmas, but I’ve been a little distracted lately with my job that I hate and trying to figure out what I’m going to with my future. However, as the new year starts, I’m committed to doing more things that make me happy, which includes tumblr-ing and writing. I’ve missed this, and I’ve missed you. I hope you enjoy.
This is an NSFW oneshot for female reader with Ezra of Prospect. This work contains smut and mature language and should not be read by those under 18. As a writer, I will attempt to make accurate warnings for each of my fics, however, I cannot guarantee that I will identify each and every sensitive topic. My works regularly contain swearing, allusions to/mentions of sex, and canon-level violence.
Content Includes (but is not limited to):
Set in canon universe
post-movie Ezra (aka one-arm Ezra)
No mention of Cee
Snowed in with Ezra
petnames (Junebug, bug, sweetheart)
Swearing
Slight D/s dynamics
Threats of orgasm denial
Oral (f receiving)
Fingering (f receiving)
Anal sex (f receiving)
Aftercare
Cuddly Ezra
Please read at your own discretion and remember to consume your fanfiction responsibly.
It’s eerily silent when you wake next to Ezra, save for his soft snores that fill the dark room. But even those seem muffled as you sit up in bed. You hiss when your feet hit the cold floor, and you wish you’d heeded Ezra’s advice last night when he’d told you that the two of you ought to trade off keeping the woodstove going. Now it burned dim, only ashes and embers glowing in the bottom of the firebox.
You don’t realize how much snow has fallen until you’re restarting the fire with fresh kindling and dry brush, and you stand to peek out the window. Everything you can see is covered in a heavy blanket of pristine white--deadly and beautiful.
“Come back to bed, bug,” Ezra rasps behind you, and you turn to see him spread out in the dim light, his broad, scarred chest out on display like a piece of art.
“Gotta get this fire started, Ez,” you shake your head at him, the lazy bastard watching you do all the work.
His words drip with promise, “I’ll warm you right up if you’ll only return to me, my little Junebug.” Words unsaid send a shudder down your spine.
Ezra is absolutely insatiable. Last night he’d laid you out on the rug under your feet and eaten his fill until you were physically unable to cum anymore, and he’d relished in the way his beard was soaked through with your many releases. After, he’d fucked his fist and cum over your tits before cleaning you with his mouth as you tried to catch your breath.
But it seems he still wants more. You could have seen it coming though, he can never resist fucking you when you wear his clothes, and you’d pulled on his discarded thermal at some point in the chilly night.
“It looks like we’re snowed in” you comment, like your mind hadn’t just replayed all the orgasms he’d given you in the last twelve hours, soaking your panties. “Hope you didn’t plan on getting out today.”
“You know exactly what my plans are bug,” Ezra growls, and you know you’re getting to him.
“I thought I might fix some breakfast, at least get some coffee started,” you muse, hiding your smile by stoking the growing flames. He hates to be ignored, and you can feel his irritation growing from across the room.
The springs of the mattress squeak and you look back to see Ezra propped up on his one arm, gaze harder than any aurelac boring straight into your own. “Bug, don’t test me,” he warns, a dangerous edge to his voice that makes you clench around nothing.
“Why not?” you ask defiantly, only a slight shake to your voice as you clench your thighs together.
Ezra is a patient man, and he knows the game you’re playing. It’s not a new one and he knows just what strings to pluck that will have you singing in his embrace.
“If you continue to defy me, little Junebug, I promise you won’t cum until we burn through the last of the wood in that pile.”
Your eyes widen when you realize he’s looking at the stack by the door, about four feet by four feet, enough for at least two more days in this remote little slice of paradise the two of you had built.
“Now come over here and let a starving man break his fast.”
A tiny squeak escapes your lips as you bound toward the bed and jump underneath the covers, giggling as Ezra peppers you with kisses.
“I love you,” he groans into your neck as a peck turns to a nibble. “Now let me warm you up little Junebug.”
His hand snakes down your torso, dipping into your panties and finding the wetness already pooled between your folds. You whimper into his mouth as his rough fingers circle your clit, and your hips buck up against him.
“Already so wet for me, darling,” he teases, sliding his hand down and slipping two thick fingers into your waiting cunt. “Did you enjoy teasing me?”
You don’t answer, too content with his ministrations to search for words to answer him with, but he pulls his hand away in retaliation.
“Yes, yes I did!” you gasp, hand flying down to clutch his wrist and keep him from moving away.
“Filthy girl,” he admonishes, nuzzling your ear.
“Please, Ezra,” you plead, rolling your hips against his fingers. Your orgasm is building quickly and you know the more you beg now the more forgiving he’ll be when it comes to letting you release.
“What do you need, Bug?” Ezra coos in your ear.
You whimper as he finds the spot inside you that makes your eyes roll. “Need your mouth, Ez.”
He chuckles darkly and pulls his hand away before you can protest. But he’s moving toward the foot of the bed and you know what’s coming next.
“Got my Junebug addicted, have I?” he asks with a hum, settling between your legs and tugging your soaked panties down your legs.
“Kevva’a yes!” you throw your head back as he dives in, his tongue lapping eagerly at your clit as he scissors his fingers in and out of you. “Fucking addicted to you, Ez. Your fingers, that fu-ucking mouth,” your breath hitches as he nips at your clit, “Your cock too. Feels so good when you’re splitting me apart.”
A wave of pleasure washes over you and one of your hands leaves the bedding to tangle in Ezra’s curls, making him moan into your cunt as your nails scratch across his scalp.
“Gonna cum, Ezra,” you moan, bucking up into his face, but he doesn’t stop. Instead he pushes deeper, harder, grunting into you as you release on his tongue, riding out your high against his face.
It’s too much and not enough all at once and you simply can’t get enough of Ezra. Your fingers in his hair tighten and you use your grip to pull him back up your body so you can kiss him, the taste of your own release making your cunt clench again.
“I need you inside, Ez,” you pant when he finally pulls away for a breath.
He seems to be contemplating something for a moment.
“Gonna let me fill this tight little ass?” he asks, leaning in to nip at your bottom lip as his hand palms your ass.
The thought makes you leak out onto the sheets below. You’d been toying with the idea for a while, Ezra easing you into it with his tongue and fingers and plenty of lube. It was dirty and filthy and yet Ezra held you so delicately when he teased you there, calling you his sweet little Junebug, urging you to relax in that sultry sweet voice you’d come to think of as home.
“Do you have the lube?” you breathe, and Ezra nods, eyes dark.
He leaves your side for just a second to retrieve it from the bedside drawer.
“I want you to fuck my ass, Ezra,” you purr, nuzzling into his neck. You feel his breath hitch and it makes your heart swell. He knows what this means, and the trust you’re placing in him.
“Shit, Junebug. How can I say no to that?” He places one last kiss to your temple before moving over you, shedding his underwear and letting his hard cock bob up against the swell of his stomach. He pushes your knees until they’re nearly to your chest, spread so he can watch your face as he coats his fingers with the lube before teasing open the puckered ring of muscle between your cheeks.
Ezra’s eyes flit between where his fingers are working you open and your face, completely transfixed by the way your face reacts to the way he’s pulling you apart.
“Do you think you’re ready for me, sweetheart?” he rasps, hand withdrawing from your ass to palm his cock, now aching and red.
“Please, Ezra, fuck me,” you beg, wiggling your ass and pulling your knees closer to your chest.
He’s slow as he pushes in, your hole and his cock already glistening with a generous layer of lube. It’s a different sensation than when he fills your cunt, but he feels even bigger this way, closer.
When he’s fully seated inside of you, you both lie there for a moment in the silence, listening to your labored pants of pleasure mixing in the cool morning air.
“Fuckin’ move, Ez,” your nails scratch down his back, and you can’t help but clench around his length inside of you.
Ezra wastes no time finding a pace that leaves the both of you breathless, his hand tangling with yours and pressing into the bed as he fills you over and over again. He’s babbling above you now, words pouring out of him like a fountain.
“Squeezin’ me so damn tight, Bug. Can’t believe I’m so close to you. So fucking close you to,” his brow is furrowed tightly and you can tell he’s getting close to his release. Your hand not pinned by his slips down between you and finds your clit, rubbing hard.
“I’m gonna cum, Ezra,” you assure him, meeting his gaze. “Come on, Ez. Fill me up. I want to feel it,”
A strangled noise leaves his throat and you feel his length twitch inside of you, spurting hot ropes of cum into your ass as you tip over the edge into a soft release that leaves you trembling beneath him as he rides out his high.
The two of you stay joined together for a moment after you’ve cum, you comfortably smushed under Ezra’s familiar weight. But eventually he pulls away, making you whine as his cock slips out of your gaping hole.
You watch his back as he disappears into the small bathroom, returning after a minute redressed in a pair of thermal pants and a washcloth in hand. Ezra is gentle as he cleans his spend from between your cheeks, only once getting distracted by the trail of cum dripping out of your ass.
He tosses the rag aside, a problem for later, and rejoins you in the bed, pulling you close to his body.
“Thank you, Junebug,” he murmurs into your ear, hand slipping under your shirt to trace circles on your tummy.
“I think I should be thanking you, Ez,” you chuckle, twisting your neck so you can kiss him sweetly. “I’m certainly not cold anymore.”
I've been writing quite a lot of angst and hurt recently so here is a piece of tooth rotting fluff to get you in a Christmassy mood. And oh yes, they're back.
Ezra x OFC. Word count: 1,495
🌟 This is set between Chapters 15 and 17 of Starman 🌟
Starman
Earthlings
The sky outside was steely purple grey, heavy with the promise of snow. If she had been brave enough to open the windows she knew that she would be able to smell the tang of the same in the air. She sighed happily, closed the curtain against the rapidly approaching night. But only halfway. She left one side open to be able to see when Ezra would return.
He had expressed a desire to be more independent recently, and she felt today to be the right day for that to begin in earnest. He was unable to drive a car as yet - those lessons would come during longer days and better weather. He did however love the coastal road that her little cottage was on, so when she had suggested he walk the mile-and-a-bit to the nearest town he was only too pleased to go.
Before he left they had discussed the parameters of his trip – what to do if he couldn’t work out how something worked, or ran out of money, or lost his way. He had his own phone and most foreseen problems could be easily solved with a call to her. She would come and get him if he really wanted her to. But she knew that call would never come. Ezra was far too stubborn not to see an adventure through, no matter how small it seemed. So she had encouraged him to take his time, to explore a little without her, to visit the beach if he so desired.
"Ah, you want rid of me already, my love?" he had asked in a dramatic tone as he swept her into his arm. His hand was at the small of her back while he nosed softly at her cheek, a pleasant tingling warmth spreading from where their skin met. "Tell me what I might do to win your favour once more."
His eyes were sparkling, his grin lopsided and roguish as her hands came around his neck to tangle in his curls and bring his lips to hers in a feverish kiss.
"Never," she had said, her murmured reply fervent and sincere against his mouth despite the fact she could hear the joking tone of his words. "I never want rid of you Ezra." Another kiss, deeper and more explorative before she added with a smile, “I’m sure I can think of some things for you to do though!”
When she had presented him with the shopping list shortly after, he had laughed heartily and faintly protested that he had had other pursuits in mind before kissing her gently on the nose and then on the forehead, his soft lips tender and full of promise.
"Anything for you my Vive," he said simply. "I love you."
She smiled at the memory. This was perfect. Not only would the little excursion give him a chance to practice his English, but it would allow her to prepare the house in the way that she wanted in order to surprise him. She couldn't wait to see what he made of her handiwork. Christmas had been explained to him - the meaning behind it, the traditions – but learning about it and experiencing it were very different things. And she hoped his first one would be a joy. Turning away from the window, she surveyed the room.
Soft lights twinkled warmly in the corner of the living room, reflecting off the glittery golden ornaments that adorned the rest of the tree, while the comforting sweet smell of cinnamon was emanating from homemade garlands. A pile of beautifully wrapped gifts surrounded its base, their red ribbon bows enticingly perfect, wrapping paper gleaming. The fire was dispersing its crackling warmth throughout the room and Ben had forsaken his bed to stretch out in front of it for a snooze, the luxury of his experience writ plain upon his little furry face.
He suddenly stirred, opened his eyes and raised his head toward the door expectantly. Sure enough, a moment later she heard Ezra’s footsteps coming up the path. She flung open the door and met him with a tight embrace on the porch.
“I missed you,” she whispered as she nuzzled affectionately into the scruffy patches at his cheeks.
“Though I was gone only for a matter of hours, it felt like a lifetime without you my love,” he replied, kissing the top of her head.
She drew back, unable to hide the excitement in her smile. “I have a surprise for you,” she announced.
He smiled gently down at her. “Well, I must admit I did get the notion that you were up to something."
She took the bag of shopping from him and placed it carefully inside the house before turning back to him. “Close your eyes.”
She could see the moment when his smile turned from pure sweetness to amused indulgence and he did as she said, covering them over with his hand so she knew he couldn't see anything. She took him by the elbow and led him into the welcome warmth of the living room, settling him gently on the couch and sitting next to him so she could observe his reaction.
“Okay,” she said. “Open them.”
His mouth fell open, and his full lips quirked a little to the side in an amazed half-smile as he exhaled sharply. The blazing fire mixed with the off-white of the fairy lights turned his skin golden, and were reflected in the inky depths of his beautiful dark eyes. Her attention was captured so completely that she forgot to breathe for a moment, so lost was she in the soft rapture of his expression. He muttered something under his breath - something in his own language - the only word of which she definitely understood was ‘beautiful’. He had called her that enough in his own tongue and hers for her to recognise it. Before she could even reach for the translator where it was propped up on the bookcase, he turned to her and his eyes were lit with a fervent flame.
“This…you did all this?” he asked.
She nodded. “I want you to share in my experience of Christmas. It’s always been such a happy time for me. I adore it, and I hope that you will too.”
He took both of her hands into his larger one. “My life, my only love…I adore any time that I am with you. All of the time that I am with you. And this…thank you. This is so beautiful! I feel so lucky to share in your celebration." He smiled warmly before his eyes flickered, his attention caught by something. He shot a questioning look over her shoulder. “What’s the matter with Dog?” he asked.
She turned to look. Ben had scuffled over to his bed underneath the window, but not to sleep. He was standing up in it on his little hind legs, his head and upper body obscured behind the curtain she had closed earlier. She went to him, peeking behind the curtain to check what he was looking at.
“Ohhh Ezra,” she said happily as she stroked Ben’s ears. “Come and see!”
She drew back the curtain again so that the window showed a complete view of her front garden. Fat white flakes were beginning to descend from the heavens, falling starkly against the blackness of the evening winter sky. She felt Ezra’s approach behind her - in her heart and in her mind she felt him, before he slipped his arm around her waist and held her against the broadness of his chest.
He exhaled an excited little breath from behind her. “This is…don’t tell me. I’ll remember the word. This is…snew?”
“Very nearly. Its snow,” she corrected him. “I’m glad you got back before it started. You didn’t have snow where you were from did you?”
“Not on my homeworld. I did encounter places where the precipitation fell frozen, but it was usually less…pretty than this. I’ve never seen it white before.”
“Tomorrow we can go out in it. Take Ben for a walk. He loves to roll around in the snow and chase snowballs. We can make a snowman too.” She tipped her head back to meet his upside-down gaze, his adoring grin spreading her own smile upon her face. “And then we can come back and I’ll make us hot chocolate and we can get under the blankets to warm up-“
He stopped her words with a gentle kiss, his hand slipping underneath her jumper and t-shirt to rest against the bare skin of her stomach. “And what about now?” he asked meaningfully. “Can we get under the blankets now?”
How could she ever refuse an offer like that?
The snow continued to fall outside – silent, soft, glittering and abundant. And inside the little house all was warm and cosy and beautiful, the fated lovers entwined, entangled, enmeshed eternally in their joyful love.
Pairing: Mostly Dad Ezra, Dadding Cee, a little Ezra flirting with a teacher who could function as reader insert.
Word Count: 3900
Rating: R to be safe.
Warnings: Almost none? Mild reference to sexual situations (none between E and C)
A/N: An erstwhile "sequel" to Free Air though I think this could probably be read independently as well. It is fluffy, mostly boring domesticity between Ezra and Cee.
“I do not want you coming to school.”
“I do not understand.”
Cee was pulling her hair back into a sloppy braid, it was long now, nearly down her back, and she had on the same worn jacket that she got three years ago when she got accepted into the Fair Trade Academy.
“A momentous sign from a gracious Kevva, don’t you think birdie?” He had winked, “Our whole partnership is based on a fair trade.”
Cee had rolled her eyes then and she was rolling them now.
“I just...I’m fine.”
“There’s a notice to come and see your teacher.” Ezra emphasized, “Are you in trouble?”
“No.” She blushed and he pointed at it.
“And yet your paleness betrays you.”
She growled, “I do not think any of it would be cause for disciplinary action.”
Ezra smiled and held out an open palm, “Potentially an explanation would provide some adequate context. I am not your father but I have decided to act as his proxy and it may be I have to give you some advice or curtail some deviant streak in you so as to increase your chances for success.”
She seemed more embarrassed and looked at her ratty shoes. He had offered to buy her new ones but she had passed. Though she wanted a new jacket they had missed the last open order for uniforms for the school and she’d have to get another season out of the one she had. It had been an...interesting three years.
It had taken him four days after his self-imposed quiet period to find a job. It was small, covering his debts to Cee, but not providing the opportunity for school-- though it got them only two systems removed from a very well-respected system for education.
It took them three months of work as they collected the things they would need: communicators, spare clothes, a copy of Streamer Girl and-- and she had screamed when he had produced it-- its apparent sequel (he had read both and he did not understand her obsession with either but at least felt he had made the requisite effort). They had finally gotten into the system and then looked through all the schools until Fair Trade happened across their search: accepting kids of all ages, some education expected for older students but no minimums required. No interview required. Cee had refused to interview in person claiming she was terribly tongue-tied and Fair Trade had allowed a written submission with the application.
She was accepted.
Then they wound up scraping most of the rest of her nest egg for a pad within commuting distance and then buying Cee the required supplies.
The work left over for a one-armed man whose experience was mostly prospecting at first involved nasty dust mining on the planet’s moon.
He had taken it because the pay was decent and he did not want Cee contributing while she acclimated to school (“It is quite likely you will find yourself overwhelmed with the adjustment and as with the learning of any new language or culture full immersion is the best practice”) but it had taken him out of the pad for half the week which he had apologized for.
It had led, early on, to an interesting exchange.
“You...trust me?” She had asked with a furrowed brow.
That made him chew on a cheek, “Should I not? I had rather hoped we were steeped in significant trust at this juncture-- you have saved my life, I have kept you safe, and I am agreeing to provide for you but I am trusting you not to act foolishly during your independence here.”
He cocked an eyebrow, his one good hand raised and listing things, “I have a memory, if vague, of the allures of being alone in a pad when I was young. I ravaged my parents liquor, stole my brother’s stimulants, became acquainted with the fairer acts with fairer people--”
For a moment he closed his eyes as if a good memory was sunning his face and then he shook himself back to the present, “--and I will be forced to become a sterner guardian to you if you cannot be trusted to keep yourself out of trouble and in your school. However this begs the question-- how will either of us know the extent to which you can be trusted until you are provided the opportunity to prove yourself?”
Cee had been touched. Her father had never left her alone. He had taken her out of school, dragged her from system to system, rather than risk her being alone.
Despite the relative safety of the system Ezra had also used some of the last of their money to buy her a taser.
“If someone other than me tries to come in here you aim between their eyes or their legs, people need to be compelled to cease the thoughts that are guiding them forward when those plots are at odds with our relative safety.” He had patted her shoulder, “And while I find myself indebted to your inept aiming for merely depriving me of an appendage and not my life I would prefer to sharpen your talons against worst ne'er-do-wells than myself, little bird.”
He had taken her to an alley and made her practice her shots until she was able to shoot from the hip.
The dust mining had lasted longer than he had hoped-- nearly three months. By the time that cycle was ending he had managed to line up two jobs that were not as well paying as the mining but would allow for him to be back at the pad every day.
Though he had to admit he was proud of Cee.
She had not developed a stimulant dependency or any form of venereal disease. She hadn’t gotten robbed or pregnant. She had not gotten kicked out of school. She had not trashed the pad. The pad was not by any metric clean when he came back-- there were wrappers from her rations piled an inch on the floor-- but her clothes were clean and she had been eating (hence the wrappers). She had been some semblance of responsible-- moreso than he had been at her age.
He had told her as much.
She had offered to work so he didn’t have to take two jobs.
He had shaken his head, “No...you have hardly gotten back to school. And as long as we partner I continue to be in your debt. We can be successful here, birdie. We can be successful together, but trust the plan.”
It was not the sort of work a man as fanciful as Ezra craved-- it was mostly data collection and destruction, and deliveries. He did miss adventure.
But the last time he had followed his itchy feet he had been stranded on the Green and nearly killed several times. He had never really expected to leave. He expected that he would suffocate there-- slowly being deprived of all the things that kept him alive and helpless to change that fate, watching himself die by inches. The speed had been upped when Cee had shot him. He thought of course-- I die with the pink infection rotting me to bits.
He had wrestled his life back at the cost of his arm.
And if he was being honest there was a time when he was considering the crushing reality of taking off his own arm and thought maybe he should die instead.
But he loved living too much.
Still.
If that little bird had not fluttered in when she had he might have debated the horror of taking his own arm until he died from indecision.
And for years they had gone by without incident.
Cee had brought home work--- they would eat, she would use the dinner table to complete it. He would help or offer opinion only if she asked, otherwise he had taken to trying to write or draw as he built up the finesse of his left hand. He would give up and read. He invariably went to bed early.
Some nights he locked his door and turned on their radio line to the local race reports good and loud so that the shouting and grumbling of the gamblers drowned out the particular kind of holos he streamed onto his personal holopad.
It had taken damn near a year to get the holopad.
He had not been gifted with much in the way of free time, but having had so much of it on the Green and nothing to do-- so much nothing to do that it threatened his sanity-- and he was of the belief that Kevva had been balancing herself. He owed her work and he would do it without complaint.
The last few months had actually been the easiest.
He had worked his way up the chain at one of his jobs and was now the foreman over the other data collectors and destroyers. It allowed for him to cut back on the deliveries. If he was lucky that job would not be necessary for long though he hated to turn his nose up at work while Cee was still in school. He had had a few more hours to himself in a week.
He and Cee had taken more excursions.
She had expressed some interest in a museum. They didn’t have one on their hemisphere and he had had to get time off and then pay a fee to get them ferry-sailed over to the other side for her to see it but it had been a fun adventure. He had even seen her wave at another girl from her school and felt a twinge of happiness-- maybe she had not been so broken that the time she had been given by him had been enough to start fixing her, maybe he had intervened in time.
He was of the impression as she locked herself away in her room with a stack of books and two different holopads from the school that she was doing well.
Hence he was perplexed by the simple missive by a teacher that his presence was requested.
“Can’t you just tell her you’re working? It’s nothing, I’m sure.”
“Are you sure or are you hopeful?”
“I’m...really sure.” Cee nodded to him but he sucked his teeth.
“Dishonesty in partnerships sours the air. We need to be able to breathe freely, little bird. I promise no judgement until you’ve told all of your side and your understanding of things.” He shrugged, “This is fair and I do not have to offer it. Take the trade.”
Cee groaned and whispered, “I had a small fight.”
She looked up when he didn’t say anything and he made a circular motion with his arm, “Is this the width and breadth of the tale?”
“I…” Cee looked at the ceiling, “We were in English class and I started arguing with another girl and I flipped her holopad into her face and I stormed out but in my defense the block was ending so I didn’t technically leave early so that should not be grounds to charge me with early dismissal.”
Ezra nodded at this information, “Did she deserve it?”
Cee absorbed his question.
She had not really expected that and then nodded, “Yeah.”
“Do you want to tell me why she deserved it?”
Cee shook her head, “No.”
“Is it some personal matter between the two of you?”
Cee considered this, chewing on the tip of her hair, “You could say that, yeah… she was...she was insulting. I wasn’t going to let her run her mouth.”
“Fair.” Ezra patted her shoulder, “Though if you are in for a penny you might as well be in for a pound. If you are going to be scolded for fighting might I suggest that you indulge yourself in something more virulent?”
Cee snorted, smiling a little, “Are you saying punch her?”
“One of my fondest memories involves the meeting of my fist with the jaw of a particularly repugnant boy I knew once. It keeps me warm on cold nights.”
“So...does this mean you won’t go to the meeting?”
“Of course I’m going to the meeting.”
Cee groaned again but gathered her school bag and began her walk.
Ezra was waiting for the teacher to return to her classroom-- he had been shown to it by a lovely gentleman who worked for the Academy.
He was flicking a globe of this planet around in circles.
He had not been in a school since he and his brother left theirs to go help their father mine and that...that had been decades and decades ago.
“Oh!”
A voice echoed and he turned to see a positively lovely specimen of human halfway to stuffing some manner of roll in their mouth.
He smiled, “I apologize, I was told to wait here but if I am intruding I would be happy to--”
“No! No, no, please-- I,” She sheepishly put a hand in front of her mouth so she could shield the sight of her chewing and hurriedly put her food away, “They didn’t tell me you’d arrived, please come in. Have a seat?”
“If it is all the same to you I find standing preferable.”
She smiled.
Kevva but it was lovely.
He was happy he had dressed cleanly.
“Well, I bet you know precisely why you’re here--”
“If this is about the fight, I can assure you, I--”
“Fight?”
They were both quick talkers and had layered the starting points of the conversation over one another, causing both to pause and blink at the other and Ezra cleared his throat, “Perhaps it would be best for you to start as it appears I may be suffering under a misunderstanding.”
The teacher smiled, “Well, alrighty-- uh, Cee is probably my best student. She writes...do you read any of it? Does she share it?”
He shook his head, “She is not as...extroverted as I am.”
“I expected…” The teacher nodded knowingly, “She’d burn them before I read them if I wasn’t in charge of her grade but she is good. I nominated her for a scholarship for the university but she needs a guardian’s signature to accept it because she’s underage.”
His face must have shown the surprise and then he smiled, “And here I expected to be tied and whipped for her fighting with another girl.”
“Oh the little dust up with Norris?” The teacher shrugged, “I ...may have pretended not to have seen anything. It can get so chaotic right at the end of the block when they’re all getting up and moving around. Who’s to say it was a fight?”
Ezra laughed, “I rather agree with your assessment of the situation, Cee had me prepared to defend her honor she implied it was a matter of pride that was upheld and I have to tell you I encourage such behavior-- not to make myself seem a poor guardian.”
“You are her guardian?” The teacher asked, “She...we have a required journal, she calls you her uncle, but I catch little things. Little inconsistencies. I don’t know if she realizes she’s contradicting herself.”
Ezra shrugged, “I am the only one guarding her, yes--- I… Well there is, perhaps, not a nice way to say it but I was in a stand-off with her father on the Green and only one of us was going to walk away, as you see I have my legs so I was the fortunate one. I felt Cee was owed something and when we escaped the Green I made sure she had the aurelac her father had harvested. I had intended to leave her with her prize and try to make my way but she felt very lost...you see, Cee is the reason you find me one arm short of a proper set. She shot me. It became infected and it was all I could do to not die out there. We have...an odd debt to one another. We are a little family. I told her that if I were to be responsible for her I wanted her in school…”
He looked out the window, “It was the shock of my not so unshocking life that I looked over my shoulder on a dying world of villains and murderers and saw someone had dragged their little daughter with them and she was pointing a gun at me, looking as scared as a fresh hatched chick, and I…”
He had never told this part.
“I would not have shot her, even to save my own life. I felt she surely had had enough wrong done to her, I was not looking to heap more injustices on an already full plate.”
The teacher was rapt with attention, “I...so that was real? The Green? The pink dust? The--”
He held up his good hand, “You seem a lovely person to burden your ears with such talk...if you cannot tell what from her stories is real and what is fantasy than perhaps it is best to let you assume that the best parts are real and the more unsavory are naught by angst-ridden teenage emotion?”
That made the teacher laugh and when she did he leaned closer.
Kevva.
Had he not been with a woman in so long that their laughter made him feel young and new?
Maybe.
He leaned in closer, “Tell me, how does she portray me? Dashing rogue? Villainous interloper?”
“Snorer. Fussy about the state of the floor. Chatty.”
His hand went over his heart, “My vanity cannot withstand such aggression towards it, I fear it shall revolt and take precedence over my manners.”
“Which would you have preferred to be cast as?”
“Dashing rogue.” He winked.
At that moment the door creaked and a familiar voice said, “Sorry I left my---what are you doing in here?”
Ezra stood up sternly and pointed a finger at Cee, “You are in trouble ma'am.”
She swallowed, “I thought you said--”
“You have been complaining about my snoring, which is a slanderous lie I have never once disturbed anyone’s slumber least of all yours, you sleep clear on the other side of the pad and half the time with headphones obscuring any real ability to judge my noise, and on top of it you failed remotely to mention to me that this lovely personage has been desperately trying to reward you for your abilities.” He huffed, “Gratitude, little bird. A little gratitude is not a misbegotten thing.”
Cee blinked three times and then smirked, “I...I didn’t know...the scholarship it...it still doesn’t cover….everything. I...it’s...you work. Already. Hard. And a lot. I...it’s. It’s nice just to...win it.”
She meant it.
Ezra looked over at the teacher and shook his head, “I fear I cannot claim to be responsible for such a dismal outlook on life, I truly cannot speak to her breeding, but I will be delighted to explain to her the wonder of such an opportunity and the way in which life, oftentimes, it so hungry for us to squander our best chances for joy. Do not be alarmed, I won’t let her ruin it. She, perhaps, needs someone to sell her the notion with more flair.”
Cee rolled her eyes, then nodded at her teacher, "Told you. Chatty."
She picked up her book and turned to leave, and tossed a plea over her shoulder, "Please don't be weird."
When she left the teacher produced the holo for him to sign and he did so with a wide grin, "I know this may be strange as she is not my kin by blood but I have grown attached to her and her accomplishments here, while a clear testament to her own intelligence and resilience, are somehow also acting as a reflection on me and I feel rather warmed by the notion that I have contributed in some minor way."
The teacher leaned back in her chair and referenced the room with two widespread arms, "Oh I get that! It's a bit of our deal, we… they aren't ours but they are ours. You know? I'll admit Cee is my favorite. She is funny-- like sarcastic, witty. The other kids don't always get it but it's there. She has a good head on her shoulders. Understands life better than some of these kids who have never left their own atmosphere."
“And what about you?”
“Me?”
“Have you left your own atmosphere?”
The teacher’s eyes flitted to her shoes, “I, uh...I have to confess I was so riveted by Cee’s stories about this wild adventurer who swooped in to save her that I never considered such a person was real-- she describes something incredible to me. She said this mystery uncle had been to five different mining operations. Lost his arm on the Green, murdered a war criminal who was trying to shoot her, survived on a case of chocolate bars."
Ezra's smile twitched in amusement, "She has a flair for fantasy...I have worked seven mining operations prior to this system. My eighth was on the rather squalid moon that orbits here."
The teacher tried to see if he was lying and then barked an incredulous laugh, "No?"
"That rather depends on what you are trying to negate. My violent acts, though I understand admitting their reality may undermine my credentials as a paternal figure, are in fact true and I will not be so self-aggrandizing as to allow them to be misrepresented as purely altruistic. If, as I suspect, you have never had to survive somewhere such as the Green I can only offer you this-- it is petty and can sound patronizing but if you have not had to decide to live through violence or die in submission than I do feel you are under qualified to rate my choices and I shall not feel shamed into gentrifying ungentlemanly things for the sake of the mild temperaments of more gentle souls than myself."
The teacher was hypnotized-- which was easy, "So...even the chocolate bars are real?"
"Perchance they are why I am so sweet." He winked. It felt good to flirt, he was surprised he remembered how, and as she leaned forward on her hands to hear more of his stories he felt lighter, more whole...more himself than he had in many years.
When she came over for dinner a week after term ended Cee pretended not to stare.
And she had her headphones on and her music loud after beating an early retreat to her room. Ezra had seemed so...happy. She didn't want to glom onto their time or accidentally gag when they touched and should that touching intensify she did not need to know when it happened or what had happened. When she saw her former teacher drinking coffee in her pad in the morning she chose to believe that they merely had a very early morning date. In the same clothes. And that was precisely how she would always think about it.
Prospect was an interesting movie to watch and I didn't quite get my mind around what it meant entirely, but Ezra is such an interesting character between his vernacular and his personality. I love the way writers incorporate that into stories!
This list will be updated with the weekly recs I post!
** indicates 18+ or NSFW and should not be consumed by those under 18
☆ HOLD ON TO THESE WORDS
BY OPHELIAELYSIA
Reader struggles with insomnia and late-night anxieties
☆ WILDFLOWER
BY OPHELIAELYSIA
Reader is exploring nature one morning and finds flowers that reminds you of Ezra
☆ ZENITH
BY OPHELIAELYSIA
The feelings that come along with Ezra's kisses
☆ CONNECTING THE DOT
BY BISON-WRITES
Ezra meets Dot, a beautiful mute gal, in the med bay after losing his arm and they soon become business partners
☆ **BENEATH THE MOON’S GAZE
BY OPHELIAELYSIA
NSFW! Just some intense smut
☆ **AKRASIA
BY OPHELIAELYSIA
NSFW! Reader and Ezra are locked down in their ship before being able to dock and part ways and sexual tension arrises
☆ **THE EXACT COLOUR
BY OPHELIAELYSIA
NSFW! Artist!Ezra painting his muse, the reader, both in a physical and literal way
