#and it genuinely made my skin shiver bc it's not like. stupid dangerous or something but i feel like i remember it can actually really hurt?
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Writing here abt the edizzy kiss my brain dreamed up bc im terrified my brain will also fucken forgor it if i wait to try and work it into a fic later without getting it written in at least the current dream form (bc they way it was shown in the dream I can't fic, but I could maybe take the in character moments and put them into a fic đ)
So, my dream presented it to me as:
A behind the scenes sort of shot, literally seeing it from behind the camera (all the various numerical data that you can see on the edges of the shot were present, date and whatever else)
Of Con and Taika being directed to fuck around with this harp that's been brought below deck (presumably an item stolen by Ed and Izzy, with the vaguest implication it's meant to be used at Lucius and Pete's wedding?), until the strings break on it (mildly terrifying in dream bc since it was a dream the dialogue of how they were being directed kept going fuzzy at this moment, so like. They're being told to 'keep pulling at them, don't be afraid but also hey guys don't let the strings snap and hit you in the face', and Con and Taika had these very nervous 'maybe this is a bad idea' smiles on until the strings finally snapped loudly, very nearly indeed hitting them both so that was. something lmao)
Then a direction to 'go ahead and do the kiss any time within the next couple of minutes, remember it's supposed to be a surprise to both of them that they're kissing again and that they actually really miss doing this with each other, so just take a moment and then maybe Taika, you go for it.'
It cut to like maybe a half second later of them standing side by side, Con as Izzy pretending to fuss and worry over the harp strings before Taika leans down to kiss him, doing that stupid good little move where if you're shorter than them they pull your chin up just by a fingertip or two as they kiss you?
And it was just stupid cute bc that switch had flipped and they're both completely in character in the moment and i can only describe it as !!!! With a half second of Con showing the moment of conflict on Izzy's face, a 'oh is this something we'll regret' fleeting look before kissing back and giggling into it, then both of them fucking. Moaning as they kiss, hands juuuuust starting to wander and pull each other closer when whoever's directing (maybe David idk??? the dream did not let me see back behind the camera as to who was there) laughs and fucking references a goddamn meme with 'okay, good. My bad, didn't mean to moan like that, right?'
And Con and Taika immediately break only to start joking and ask if they need to do it again (with a couple of mumbled comments abt them being happily willing to redo the kiss, but not the harp strings breaking which makes sense bc like. I still don't know why my brain threw that in like what would that achieve đ. The harp can't be used then??? It felt like it was supposed to be a 'look at these two being silly together again and in the process fucking something up, maybe they'll have to work together to fix it' bc honestly sure. I'm here for the random idea that both of them know how to restring a harp and also have like. a consistent supplier for musical instrument strings somewhere nearby aksndkfng)
Idk exactly what to frame it in yet (maybe keep the harp thing?), but that kiss. I'm keeping and doing something with that kiss in a fic for Ed and Izzy, bc it was :chef's kiss: to me, tho I will admit i am biased đ
#text post#I've been up for half an hour and all I've done is get this typed up aksjdjfngng#i need to get put together in case Housemate wants to go run the errand we talked abt yesterday but i just#couldn't bear not getting this down somewhere and sharing it bc maybe other folks will have ideas for fic framing?#if I don't stick with what the dream presented if only bc#i remember the last time i researched how it can fuck ya up if a harp string breaking goes especially wrong#don't recall why i was looking that up then but i digress#and it genuinely made my skin shiver bc it's not like. stupid dangerous or something but i feel like i remember it can actually really hurt?#and i dunno if i wanna research that again to make sure i get it right đ
#but I'm absolutely up for fitting this edizzy kiss in anywhere i can in any other fic idea for them đ
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a law divine - 1
soulmate au!ezra/reader
this is solely the fault of one single anon who called out something i put in the tags and now itâs a whole universe but you know what?? itâs the love of my life. anon i hope u see this đ i also just want to say i know there isnât A Lot of soulmate talk in this one but itâs important for the narrative okay bear with me
playlist // series masterlist // main masterlistÂ
word count: 7.2k (a Big Boy)
warnings: swearing, my usual allusions to smut bc we keep things neutral in this house, brief food/alcohol mentions, 18+ please no babies
It might be the ugliest ship youâve ever seen.
Not that youâre really one to judge, the one you charter out when youâre running point on a job is a mismatched patchwork of rusty panels held together with electrical tape and hope. If thereâs the slightest possibility you might be a teeny tiny bit disappointed in it, itâs only because agency jobs are usually a little cushier. A little safer for once. You could do with a bit safer.Â
Your family might prefer a lot safer, but youâd sooner take your chances in open space without a suit than take a job working scrapyards. At least risking your life on digs gets a decent payout.
âYou the danger mouse?âÂ
Itâs not an accent you hear often on the Pug, the majority of the stationâs population is human, but you turn with a smile to meet the bright purple eyes of the Thanne. Armour-strong scales and sharp teeth, but he seems kind and mild mannered despite his clear predatory biology. You nod as you readjust the pack on your shoulders.
âIâm Iras.â He holds his hand out to you. A distinctly human gesture made a little awkward by the sharp edged scales and extra fingers, but you shake it nonetheless. Heâs your captain for this job after all. You wonder where a Thanne became so well versed in human custom, the species as a whole tend to keep to themselves instead of branching out into the universe like so many others, until his crew members appear on the boarding ramp.
Iras gestures to each of them in turn. Summer, a blonde woman with dark skin and a kind smile, and Milo, an older man with a swirling tattoo above his left eyebrow that matches the navy blue of his eyes.
âIs it just us?â You ask. You could have sworn there was a fifth name on the manifest youâd been forwarded, but teams are always subject to change. You just hope youâll have your own room.
âEzra always leaves things down to the wire, heâll show up right before weâre due to push out.â Summer laughs fondly, throwing an arm around your shoulders like sheâs known you her whole life. Youâre usually a little wary with brand new teams but the way sheâs already chatting away makes you feel at home. The last agency job you were sent on got dicey, fast, somehow youâre sure the same wonât happen with this lot.
âThere he is.â Milo leans out of the ship to point out into the docks.Â
You turn to see a man sauntering through the throngs of harvesters towards the ship, and itâs odd. The rest of the crowd seems to melt away as he closes the distance, even the weight of Summerâs arm on your shoulders feels not quite there. You take the moment to study him. He looks all business with his dark hair and his charcoal grey shirt and the neat pack slung over his shoulder, but his pants and boots have seen better days and the streak of blonde at his temple makes you smile. Itâs nice to finally be with a crew without a single stuffy addition.Â
âItâs not often I get to congregate with like-minded souls.â He grins when heâs in earshot, a flash of something feline in his eyes. You donât want to admit that you like it.
âLike-minded?â You tilt your head at him as you follow Summer up the ramp and into the ship. Ezra slips in behind you just as it starts to raise. Just like the others said.
âWeâve all got the same death wish, Sunspot.â
The launch, at least, is smooth despite the beaten up ship and itâs only about twenty minutes before youâre far enough from the Pug to punch a lane to the next system over. At least it isnât far, thereâs only a day between now and making planetfall. Somehow, youâre not surprised to find that itâs more of a barracks and bunk beds situation rather than each having a private quarters. Last time you were hired by the agency, you definitely got your own room. But it gives you a chance to chat with the others as you unpack.Â
Milo explains the air isnât breathable, so heâll need to double check to make sure everyoneâs filters are running at capacity. But he reassures you that itâs a comfortable temperature, so itâs good to know you wonât be sweltering in your suits or freezing your asses off.Â
You pick the bed on the wall beside the door, taking out a few essentials from your pack and tucking the rest safely away in the storage compartment. Just as he did back at the docks, Ezra is the last to find his way to the room. He settles his things on the bunk opposite yours because the universe has it out for you, apparently.Â
âDid I hear one of them call you the danger mouse?âÂ
You struggle not to roll your eyes at the nickname awarded to anyone stupid enough to do your job, although admittedly he doesnât sound like he knows why. You offer him your name instead and pretend the way he rolls it around in his mouth doesnât send a shock right down to your bones. Youâre not in the habit of sleeping with colleagues, not until the jobâs over at least. But youâd be lying if you said youâre not tempted.
âThey call me in when a siteâs unstable but too profitable to close.â You answer, tugging your sleeves up as the climate control settles to a comfortable temperature.
Ezra raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue, and you pull off your gloves. They land on your thin mattress as you hold your hands out between you. Not even the slightest twitch.
âSteadiest hands on the Pug.â
âSo they are.â Thereâs a challenge in his voice that threatens to send a shiver up your spine. Itâs clear he doesnât doubt your skill in the field, but the return of that glint in his eye from the docks has you wondering exactly what else heâs thinking about as he studies your hands. Itâs not hard to work out.
Itâs been so long since you had to travel out of the system, you forgot how much inter-system lanes can fuck with the human brain. Youâre half asleep for the thirty minutes you spend sorting your things for the morning, barely enough energy to change into the sweatpants and ratty t-shirt you call pyjamas, before you crawl into bed and settle down almost immediately.
Only you donât get to sleep for as long as youâd like. The rest of the crew seem to have filtered in after you, the shift of sheets and snores float through the dimmed room. Except, itâs not just that. Thereâs shuffling and bed creaking from further down the line of bunks. A hushed giggle sounds in the silence and-
 Oh god. Oh no.
Theyâre not. They canât be, they- they are.Â
Youâre very awake all of a sudden, eyes wide as you keep them firmly on the ceiling and wishing as hard as you can for an alarm to start beeping or something. Anything to get whoeverâs banging Summer to stop. A deep voice hushes her when she laughs again. Iras. Knowing is somehow worse. The mechanics- you donât even want to think about it.Â
You turn onto your side slowly, but loud enough to hint that maybe they should find somewhere else for their escapades, and fold your pillow around your head as a kind of makeshift set of earmuffs. Whether theyâve quieted down or it muffles the noise, youâre not sure, but it seems to have worked enough. You catch Ezraâs eye in the almost-darkness, much in the same position as he holds his pillow over his own ears.Â
Itâs embarrassing for the both of you, even as you share a conspiratorial look. But somehow, itâs less awkward to have to hear Iras and Summer going at it when you know heâs awake. He winces when a particularly loud squeak echoes through the room, and it takes everything in you not to bust out laughing. You fall asleep again eventually, making faces at Ezra in the dark until neither of you can keep your eyes open anymore.
Youâre surprisingly well rested come the morning, when the whole ship jolts as it punches into the system and youâre almost thrown out of bed. So much so that itâs easy to forget that you woke up at all until you shuffle into the main living compartment of the ship. One of the crates by the wall has been cracked open, Milo hands out granola bars for breakfast.
Summer and Iras are sitting in the same chair, feeding each other, and it might be cute if youâd been awake longer and hadnât been woken up by their activities in the middle of the night. You slump into a free chair, face twisted in disgust for a moment. Youâre pretty sure nobody else sees until Ezra laughs and drops into the seat beside you. Theyâre nice people, from how they took you as a friend immediately, but that doesnât change the fact that itâs just a bit much for your perpetually single heart to take.Â
âItâs a week-long job, they canât take a break?â You watch as they finally pry themselves apart to start, you know, actually working. But not without a genuinely gross kiss that definitely toes the line of public decency. Suddenly the half-eaten bar in your hand isnât all that appealing anymore.
âSoulmates take no breaks, Sunspot. Iâm sure yours would be hard pressed to be anywhere but in bed with you whenever they get the chance.â Ezra winks and it takes you a moment to remember where you are. A glance at the pair makes your new knowledge obvious, the way they seem to be touching, even now, on opposite sides of the room.Â
âIâm not sure I believe in all that red string stuff.â
Once the ship is safely landed a short walk from the site, the days you spend digging pass with ease. The deposit is a decent size, it takes all five of you to cover it completely, and the payout should be enough to keep you all comfortable for a little while even with the agencyâs cut. The crew around you fill the time enough that you barely notice the week coming to a close.Â
Summer sings in the mornings as she cleans her equipment and readies her pack for the day. Miles talks gently to the cells as though they can hear him, shushing them any time he worries a gem might corrupt. Iras seems to have a secret superpower when it comes to the ration packs, they always taste better when heâs the one on lunch duty. And Ezra spends the afternoons regaling you all with tales of ancient beasts, laying eggs that fossilise into the very gems youâre harvesting. Although youâre not sure how true they are.Â
You almost get through the whole dig without a hitch. Almost. But aurelac is a tricky thing, even a change in the wind can turn a site for the worst. Youâre all sitting around at lunch when it happens. The telltale smoke wafts up into the air for no visible reason at all and although youâve collected enough to cover the quota, youâd still rather not lose viable gems.
âGet to what you came here for.â Iras gestures in your direction and you dive into the pit head first.
Youâre not even sure you stop to think as you follow the harvesting steps at lightning speed, salvaging half the corrupted cells before someone tugs you out by the collar of your suit. The rest of the site starts to smoke the moment youâre out of range, spitting and hissing and rendering the rest of the gems worthless.Â
âDanger mouse indeed.â Ezra chuckles over the comm system, hand still fisted in the fabric of your suit. For once, the nickname makes you smile.
While you all go your separate ways after the ship has docked back on the Pug, Summer makes you all promise to meet later at a club youâve only heard of in your friendsâ messy night out stories. Still, you pinky swear when she holds her hand out to you and try to remember if you have a single item in your wardrobe thatâll pass as club attire. Or at least something that isnât so worn there are holes in it.Â
Even if itâs a song he knows, thereâs no chance that Ezra could recognise it with the volume cranked so high through the cheap speaker that everything but the beat is distorted. Still, it doesnât stop people from dancing.Â
Heâs a little late, as usual, but he doesnât need to worry as Iras appears behind him and claps a hand on his shoulder, pointing to a booth across the room where Milo is looking increasingly uncomfortable.
It doesnât take long for Ezra to spot you and Summer in the middle of the dance floor, as he follows Iras around the edge of the space to the booth Miloâs claimed. Youâre both more jumping than dancing, yelling the unintelligible lyrics of the song into each other's faces. He canât hear your breathless laughter as Summer spins you in a circle, smile wide and bright, but he can feel it in his ribs. The drums of the song kick in at the same time the swirling lights of the club light you up like some kind of celestial being, just as you catch his eye through the crowd. And everyone else disappears. The rest of the world, rest of the universe, fades into the background. Just like they did the first time he saw you, glaring suspiciously at the ship on the docks.
Summerâs dragging you back to the table when the song comes to a close, the both of you out of breath and laughing, and Ezra has to try desperately to remember how to speak when he watches a little bead of sweat slide down the side of your neck. And stop himself from just licking a line straight up it. His silent suffering only increases when Milo holds out a shot of the most potent alcohol the Pug has to offer and you down it without so much as a flinch, winking at him when you return the glass to the table for good measure.Â
Milo calls it a night only an hour later, clearly only having braved the crowds of the club to celebrate the job. Summer and Iras are tangled in each other on the dancefloor, or the booth, as they keep the shots coming. You, at least, decide to keep your wits about you, declining every drink after the one Milo had handed you. Nobodyâs going to fuck with a Thanne, even in as seedy a club as this, so you donât worry about Summer as she gets sloppier and sloppier. But thereâs no spiky non-human boyfriend looking out for you down here, itâs just you and the knife you keep at your hip.
You pull yourself from the dance floor, eyes tracking the room for the missing member of your party, until you feel a set of eyes on you from above. Ezraâs leaning on the bannister of the stairs, his unflinching gaze set solely on you. And you canât help but smile. You follow him up to the mezzanine without hesitation when he glances upwards and back to you. The buzz of the shot has mostly faded from your veins, replaced by something much more dangerous by the way heâs looking at you. The way heâs looked at you since you met him.
Itâs not hard to spot your friends from up here, leaning over the barrier with Ezra to people watch. He crafts stories about every stranger who catches his eye. The man hunched over the bar in a beaten up jacket, the waitress who fiddles with her necklace any time her hands arenât occupied, the pair of lovers tucked away in the dark corner on the other side of the mezzanine. You find yourself sliding closer to him the more he talks, wrapped up in the warmth of his voice even in the rundown club. Your shoulder knocks into his as you mindlessly bop to the music and listen to his made up stories. Utterly enchanted. Itâs hard to remember a time when you felt this way with anybody, if you ever did at all. To tell the truth, itâs hard to remember anyone before Ezra. And neither of you have even made a move yet.
He's got his arms braced on the barrier, and you find yourself lifting the one closest to you so you can slip in between them. Surrounded on all sides and you couldnât feel more comfortable. To his credit, he doesnât falter in his vivid storytelling about the group now settled in the booth your crew had claimed earlier, not even a stutter as you turn in his arms to face him. Heâs decided theyâre here to celebrate the beginning of a new job, rather than a successful harvest. His eyes flick to you for the barest moment, enough to notice yours are firmly focused on the way his lips move around his words, before searching the club below for another story. Another way to keep his mind and mouth occupied so he doesnât accidentally admit all the sinful things he wants to do to you when you press your ass up against him like that.Â
âEzra.â
He shouldnât be able to hear you over the music, but youâre nose to nose and heâd be hard pressed to ignore the way you practically purr his name. Heâs expecting you to make another flirty comment in that voice that sends his mind reeling into all manner of indecent places the same way you have been all night.
âCan I kiss you?â
He doesnât expect you to just outright ask him.Â
âYeah.â Yeah. Hell of a time for his eloquence to fail, not that it matters anyway. Youâre on him the moment he stops speaking.
Itâs like the sun explodes inside him, the way his stomach bottoms out the second your lips touch his. Thereâs nothing soft about it, not the way he might have imagined there would be. If heâd been so bold as to let himself imagine what kissing you might be like. Youâre all warmth and heat and you still taste a little bit like the shot youâd thrown back earlier, and he finds himself falling. Not that Ezra minds, he hopes his parachute never opens if it means youâll keep kissing him like this.Â
You let your fingers roam under his jacket, twist themselves in the thin fabric of his t-shirt, and you sigh into his mouth. God, you knew heâd be good at this. His hands leave a trail of starlight as they trace over your body, never quite choosing a place to rest. They start to settle on your shoulders, only to skim down your arms and squeeze harshly on your waist, to play along the strip of skin he finds just underneath the hem of your shirt, to grip harder than he might mean to onto the meat of your ass through your pants. You gasp, break the kiss for barely a moment, and stop his apology in its tracks.Â
He doesnât protest when you walk him backwards, still groping at each other like itâs just the two of you in the whole club. Ezra only groans when his back hits the wall and you push even closer into him, as if there was even any space left for air between your bodies already. Heâs not about to complain. He could kiss you for a thousand years and it still wouldnât be enough. Itââll never be enough, not for a soul as hungry as his. You pull back too soon, far too soon, and it takes a solid minute for his brain to kick in and break the vice grip he still has a little too low for the public eye.
Oh, that look on your face. Heâs in trouble.
âWhere are you off to?â Ezra asks, flushed and breathless, a hand stretched halfway out to where youâre backing toward the stairs.
âHome,â You say with a sly smile, âYou coming?â
He canât push off the wall fast enough.Â
You donât live far from the club, a ten minute walk at the most, but Ezra manages to make it a solid twenty with the way he keeps pulling you to him. Not that youâre about to complain. Youâve been waiting a week to let him get his hands on you. At the press of his lips on your neck, the shudder it sends down your spine, you wonder if part of you has been waiting even longer than that.Â
Youâre trying, desperately, to type in the keycode to your apartment. If Ezra could calm down with the grabby hands, you might have gotten it right straight away.Â
âNo roommates?â He asks, kissing along your shoulder, and you take the temporary reprieve to kick your brain into gear and remember the fucking numbers.Â
âHugo wonât be too upset if I make him sleep on the couch.âÂ
The door slides back into the wall to reveal a dark apartment, a strip of light from the hall falling on a very orange cat. He stares at you for a second, clearly not particularly pleased that heâs been so rudely roused from a nap, before he settles back to sleep stretched out on the couch cushions. Hugo. Ezra is silently relieved that the roommate is just a cat, heâs not sure heâs got the self control to stay quiet tonight. Or to make sure you do.Â
You waste no time once you gesture for Ezra to walk in ahead of you, flicking the switch on the wall to slide the door shut and pulling him back to your lips. He doesnât hesitate to crowd you up against the cold metal.Â
Although you could devour each other until the closest sun explodes and swallows the station whole, Ezra has to break away. To think, to breathe, to tease you a little about the moan he just swallowed from you. But you beat him to it.
âGotta catch your breath?â The smile on your face threatens to make his knees buckle, and with you pressed up against the closed door the way you are? He might just let them.Â
âWhat do you want, Sunspot?âÂ
You left a lamp on in your bedroom, the door cracked just enough to let a little filter through to the main living space. Still, heâs almost completely silhouetted against the warm yellow glow. As if heâs some kind of ethereal being, maybe he is.
âMake me see the stars.â You pull him in as close as you can and let your lips brush over his as you whisper. His next words make you shudder almost as much as the way he drags the zipper of your jacket down, slowly, tooth by tooth.Â
âAs you wish.âÂ
And boy, does he deliver.
Youâre expecting things to feel more unfamiliar than they do, as you explore each other for the first time, but itâs like youâve been here before. Once, twice, a hundred times before. Every move feels oddly choreographed. Ezra knows exactly how to take you apart and put you back together again, the way he pulls every twitch and moan out of you so expertly. Youâre no different, as your fingers map the plains of his chest like itâs muscle memory.Â
You shake it off, put the thoughts to the back of your mind. Youâve been around the block a little in your time on the Pug, it only makes sense that he has the same kind of experience. But shared experience or not, you canât deny how much having him so close feels like a homecoming of sorts.
Itâs the best sleep of your whole fucking life and, honestly, youâre not that surprised. Ezra makes a damn good pillow. Even if you both wake hours later into the day cycle than either of you normally would. Even if heâs more of a morning person than you are. Itâs kind of nice, to sit still snuggled in your pile of blankets and watch him potter around your apartment as Hugo winds around his ankles like heâs been there for years.Â
Your fridge, however, is heartbreakingly empty and renders his offer of making breakfast pointless. Instead, he pulls his shirt on and offers to take you to the best little diner he knows, tucked away in the heart of the marketplace. Itâs a hard offer to turn down.
âWhat kind of gentleman would I be to have so much income at my disposal and not treat such a beauty as yourself to a good meal?â He winks as he flashes his credit chit at you as if you didnât scan in for your paychecks at the same time. You laugh as you empty a food pouch into Hugoâs bowl, and tell him he better show you all the good breakfast spots. You shrug off his raised eyebrow and mutters of a ânext timeâ. As if he didnât already know.
Still, Ezra takes you by the hand the moment your apartment door secures itself shut behind you, leading you through the hall and out into the street, and youâve never felt more wanted.
Itâs like everythingâs brighter, walking leisurely through the bustling market stalls with Ezra. The smells are stronger as spices in the air cling to your nose, the cacophony of vendors calling out almost sounds like music, and you start to laugh. Hand in his, in the middle of the maze of stalls full of food and tools and trinkets. As if itâs just the two of you in the whole universe.Â
At least Ezra doesnât look back at you like youâre crazy. He smiles too, just as big, and you feel bathed in warmth the same as when the sun comes out planetside.
Youâre both still grinning when he leads you deeper through the market, down an alley and up a flight of stairs to an unassuming door.
âIs this where you murder me?â You joke just as the door opens to reveal a short older woman with an eyepatch, who pulls Ezra down into a tight hug as soon as heâs in arms reach. He introduces her as Merse, the woman whoâs run the best diner no oneâs ever heard of on the whole station. She slaps his arm for his cheek, but her grin grows twice as wide when she spots your intertwined hands.Â
Ezra pulls you through the doorway after him as he follows Merse, chatting about how she always keeps the best table open just in case he brings a friend and you try not to smile too wide when she wiggles her eyebrows at you. He says something to you, but youâre too distracted by the view from the big windows.Â
The far wall is completely glass, overlooking the main docks, lined with booths. A small family sits in one of them, their two children standing up on the seats to watch the ships come and go. Youâve never seen it from this angle before, always down in the masses and scanning the boards for new jobs. Itâs kind of beautiful. In a rusty, patchwork sort of way.
Merse points you towards one of the booths with a promise that sheâll bring you the best breakfast youâll ever have, something tells you sheâs not lying.Â
Itâs not long after you slide into the booth that she comes marching out of the kitchen with two plates, wafting steam that makes your mouth water and your stomach rumble. Rice and vegetables and eggs and all sorts of things youâve never even seen pile high, and youâd worry you wouldnât be able to finish it all if you werenât so hungry.Â
âYou know I wonât break, right?â You push your fork around in the remaining rice on your plate as you watch Ezra absorb your words. He thinks about it for a long moment, dark eyes over you before settling on your own.
âWhatâs this about?â He knows, you know he knows. More importantly, you know heâs going to make you say it. In the middle of the day cycle, in this family friendly diner.Â
âJust,â You exhale sharply, âMaking sure youâre aware.â Your body floods with a shyness thatâs alien compared to the confidence you had last night and suddenly, your breakfast is the most interesting thing on the Pug. You can practically feel him smiling at you, but you donât dare look up to meet it.Â
He was right though, the food really is some of the best youâve ever had.
Itâs not until youâve wandered back through the market, still hand in hand, and found your way back to your apartment that Ezra decides to bring it up. He may have been more than a little distracted last night, but heâs sure he spotted a set of old books sitting on a shelf above your couch. You freeze, ready to go on the defensive about how ink and paper will never be obsolete, until you realise heâs genuinely interested. Heâs not judging you by any means. Something about the curiosity shining in his eyes makes your heart flutter more than you care to admit.Â
He could watch you talk about your books all day, every day, for the rest of his life. How your eyes lit up when you recognised his interest, a paperback lover himself. You canât seem to stop yourself as you dive into the intricate details of your favourite classics, two or three hundred year old texts that make you feel like youâve lived a thousand different lives at once. He wants so badly for you to keep talking but the more impassioned you become, the more he wants to kiss you.
You trail off at some point, he loses track when you climb into his lap to point out notes youâve made in margins and the books lie scattered on the couch beside you as you kiss him until neither of you can breathe. Youâre still a little achy from last night, deep in your bones, and you hiss when his teeth scrape across your shoulder.
âWonât break, is that right?â Ezra chuckles darkly and nips at your jaw, âCan I try?â
âPlease.â
You wake at the creak of your bedroom door, sometime in the early hours. Hugo noses his way through the narrow gap and hops up onto the bed, curling up on the unclaimed pillow by your head. Ezra sleeps deeply, face buried in your neck, and you let the warmth of him wash over you. It ebbs and flows like a tide, that familiarity. The undeniable fact that something about this just feels right. Youâve known this man a week and yet youâre here wondering, as he rests in your arms, if he might want more than just this with you.Â
Oh, but you are so afraid. Afraid to put a name to anything about him because what then? Will he tell you that youâre simply a placeholder in his life for something better, or that his heart might bleed through his skin when youâre apart? Youâre not sure which is worse. Not that it matters, there is no word in any language that would be able to explain exactly how you feel about the man asleep in your arms. Itâs enough, you think, to have him with you at all. In any capacity. Whatever pieces of his soul he bares as your breathing evens and his mind wanders. That is enough, and you will protect it with your life.
You have to part ways at some point, of course. Another week of rolling around in your bed sheets together, on the couch, on your pitiful kitchen counter, up against the wall, and Ezra gets a call from the agency. Itâs a last minute job, the crew only need an extra set of hands to fit the safety standards, but itâs several systems out from the Pug. Itâll take him away for at least a month. You trail after him at the docks, with promises of messages in his absence and all manner of unsavoury activities on his return. Itâs with a deep kiss and a wolf whistle from a couple of dock workers on their break, that you wish him luck. And ask him to hurry back.
Summerâs message surprises you when it dings through on your tablet. Some gajillionaire on Dallore T53 has found an aurelac deposit on the grounds of his new estate and wants it gone. Sheâs preoccupied, already out on another dig with Iras and a new crew. But itâs the kindness of her even thinking to offer it to you that makes your heart swell. Itâs been a while since youâve had real, honest to god, friends.Â
Youâd go in alone, normally, for something like this. But now? Now, youâre punching in Ezraâs comm pin before you can even really register what it is that youâre doing. He only got back a week ago, and you made him settle in back home before he could settle in yours. Itâs not like the two of you would be doing any resting on his return to your apartment, exactly. The job was a pain, heâd told you, it ran months longer than anyone expected and youâre sure heâs still exhausted. He wonât agree, but you find you have to ask. Just in case.
âSunspot?â He sounds happy, rested. And you breathe a sigh of relief, at least he can follow your orders when he wants to.
Hugo snakes around your ankles at the familiar voice, the same way he does any time the man himself walks through the door. If you didnât know that the little orange devilâs alliances lie in who feeds him, you might think he loves him more than you.Â
You explain about the job, make sure to stress that he doesnât have to come. That you donât even really need to take it if heâd rather you stay close by. Okay, you donât say that out loud, but the smile you hear in his words through the speaker makes it known that heâs heard you. Loud and clear.Â
It doesnât matter in the end, not when he accepts before you even have a chance to give him any details. You donât know why you were so worried he might say no.
âAny excuse to be warmed by your light, Sunspot.â Hugo brushes up against your leg at the same time Ezraâs voice practically drips through the speaker, smooth as honey.
âIs that a euphemism?â
âDo you want it to be?â
You choke on your breath and he laughs like youâve told the funniest joke in the universe. Heâll kill you one of these days, youâre sure of it.
You charter the ship you usually take on private jobs, the space a little smaller than you remember with another person on board, but itâs not like either of you arenât used to being in close quarters with each other by now. At least Ezra has the decency not to be mean about the beaten up exterior, she still flies true. Heâd grinned at that, told you how a rough outside often means the opposite of the interior mechanics. The glint in his eye is enough to know heâs not just talking about the ship.Â
At least the planet is in the same system as the Pug, so thereâs no need to punch through to a lane. You fly in silence for a few hours, the familiar feel of the controls under your fingers as you guide it through the sky. Ezraâs eyes remain firmly on you although you pretend as though you donât notice, and it takes him a moment to come back to the present when you ask him to flick a few switches and prepare to enter the atmosphere.Â
The coordinates the client gave you to land are only a short walk from the house itself, a great stone castle-looking thing. Itâs kind of ugly, the way the limestone juts out above the treeline. A big white block among the rich reds and oranges of the leaves. They grow that colour all year round, perpetually stuck in spring and summer. It must be nice to have the kind of money to find somewhere like that and decide youâll build a house there. The air is breathable, and a quick look at the planet file proves itâs never too hot or too cold. A perfect place to build a house really. Although, if it were you making that kind of decision, youâd maybe go for a design thatâs a little less cubist.Â
The deposit isnât huge, but itâll be a good payout nonetheless providing the cells are all in good nick. You and Ezra wade through swathes of long grass and wildflowers until you find a spot to set up camp. At least youâre not stuck in bulky suits and having to lug around your equipment.
You couldnât have asked for a more perfect dig if youâd tried. Each of the cells sit far enough away from each other that even if one were to fail, it wouldnât corrupt a whole mess of the others. Although with both of your talents, it doesnât surprise you when you collect every last crystal without a single misstep.
Youâd told Ezra the profit would be split down the middle, equal pay for equal work. But it doesnât stop him from sliding an extra gem into your pack to cover the ship charter. After all, youâre the one who was offered the job in the first place. Heâs just following his heart, the one that walks around outside of his body and throws itself into deposits mid-corruption.
You hold one of the little gems aloft in the sunlight and watch as it sparkles.
âI used to think it was weird how rabid people go for these. But the more I dig the more I get it, isnât it the most beautiful thing youâve ever seen?â
Ezra tilts his head like heâs studying the rock, but his dark eyes donât leave yours.
âItâs a close second.â
Sap.
Night falls before either of you realise just how late it is, clearing out the last few cells of the deposit. Itâs not worth going back to the Pug now, he reasons, and you find it hard to disagree. The ache of the few days youâve spent digging has settled deep in your muscles, the thought of having to run through docking procedure when youâre so tired is enough to make you wince.Â
You let him take you for all youâre worth under the watchful eye of the heavens, and find thereâs more stars behind your eyelids than you could ever hope to see in the skies. Itâs all you can do to cry out the name of the only god to ever make you feel this holy. Ezra.Â
He wakes with the sun, the same way he always has on jobs, to find you curled so tightly against him that it bubbles up from his toes all the way to his throat and he finds his eyes threatening to spill over. Everything in the universe seems to slot so perfectly together when youâre like this. Ezra sighs, content to never let the moment end. You are so beautiful.
He shifts up onto his elbow a little, still cradling you against him, and lets his free hand trail softly over your face. Tracing the shell of your ear, the curve of your cheekbone, the bridge of your nose. The dawnâs sunlight breaks over the trees and filters through the fabric of the tent, bathing you in soft green light. He could stay here, holding you, until the universe implodes. Ezra doubts heâd notice such an insignificant thing with you beside him.Â
But end it must, and he rouses you gently with soft whispers and kisses against your temple. You stretch in his arms, not unlike Hugo, and sigh as your joints pop and settle. Packing up happens slowly, moving around each other so naturally itâs as though youâve done it a thousand times before. Every time Ezra passes, you drop a kiss wherever you can reach. His shoulder, the arm of his jacket, that little patch on his jaw. He pretends not to blush when you catch his hand and carefully press your lips to the little tattoo between his thumb and index finger, you pretend not to notice when he does.
Youâll be the death of him, heâs sure of it. The way you keep watching him out of the corner of your eye, the way your smile is so bright when he catches you that he can barely stand to look at it. With the tent and equipment packed up, his fingers itch to thread through your own as you start the walk back to the ship, thereâs not a word in the universe strong enough to describe just how much he hates that both his and your hands are too full.
Itâs odd, thinking about it. How you met by pure chance, hired by the agency just because you were on the same station at the same time. Would he have ever met you if youâd chosen a different career path, if he had? Maybe somewhere, centuries before or after this moment, where youâre meeting again. Different lives, different times, spanning across all of existence. Maybe, right here and now, youâre starting to feel the way he does about you. Just a little. Maybe heâll get up the courage to ask what you think, how far you want to take things. Heâd give himself to you in a heartbeat, without question. In a way, he already has.
Ezra canât stop himself.
âWhat do you make of the red string of fate?â
âAll youâve seen of the universe and you still believe in soulmates?âÂ
âMaybe Iâm more foolish that I made myself out to be.â He shrugs, trying not to let his eyes fall to the little finger of his right hand. Trying not to clench his fist to show you exactly how much your disbelief affects him down to his bones, as though his soul itself is frowning. Youâre smiling. Uncharacteristically quiet, but you seem appropriately pleased by his answer and stray a little further out into the long grass.
Curiosity gets the better of you.
âCan you see yours?â You have to call out across the gap youâve unintentionally created, yellow stalks swishing in the breeze between you, and for a moment youâre not sure he heard.
Ezra looks at his right hand, at the thin red string tied neatly at the knuckle of his little finger, and follows the line as it threads through the grass to where itâs knotted at your left.Â
âNo.âÂ
TAGLIST (add yourself here):
@bee-dameron @keeper0fthestars @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean @gotta-have-fayeâ @freeshavocadooooâ @darnitdracoâ @greeneyedblondie44â @fire-is-catching-always
#oh god here it is i hope it lives up to what i've made it out to be#a law divine#prospect (2019)#ezra (prospect)#ezra x reader#ezra x you#liz does words#soulmate au#smut
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Closer to you - Sirius Black x Reader
Requests: 1. Hi there gorgeous, could I request an imagine where Sirius is dating a shy Hufflepuff? Love your writing so much! â¤ď¸ 2. Hello, can I request imagine where y/n is best friend with the Marauders, sheâs Hufflepuff and has a thing for Sirius? And maybe him liking her as well and the rest of them will try to get them together? Thank you, love ya! â¤ď¸ 3. Hi can I request an imagine where y/n is best friends with the Marauders and has a crush on Sirius and theyâre doing the lessons on boggarts in class one day and when it steps out itâs the Marauders making fun of y/n and Sirius comforts her? can you also make it extra fluffy please? 4. hellooo! i was wondering if you could do like a little thing ( it doesnât have to be a complete fic it could just be a lil drabble ) where Sirius doesnât know how to tie a tie and you help him bc y'all are like dating and itâs just really fluffy cute shit Guys, I really hope you like thiss!! Itâs fluffy alright. Warnings:fluff? And my English? One swear word? Gif/image arenât mine/ Credits to their original owners. Masterlist You were currently walking down a corridor. It was quiet. Too quiet, to be exact. âThose boysâ you thought. They were up to something. And that usually meant two things; either a prank or teasing you. You may be friends with the infamous Marauders but you were the shy one. You were a Hufflepuff, after all. Of course, you went all crazy if someone hurt them. They were your brothers. Even if you wished differently about one of them. You had accepted the fact that you had feelings for Sirius. And that they werenât siblings-friendly. You had almost perfected the way you would act around him. Not too close, not too far away. Not too blushy, not too indifferent. At least you tried-and it seemed to work. Until three boys kicked their arses in. Somehow, even when Sirius wasnât aware, they knew. And they wouldnât let you hear the end of it. You actually felt nostalgic for those days, when they would just tease you. They took it to the next level. And something warned you that they wouldnât stop. You were too lost in your mind, too distracted to really pay attention to your surroundings. Huge mistake! You felt a strong hold pushing you to your right-you had to blink a few times to realize what happened. Before you could even protest, you were inside the broom cupboard and the door was already closed behind you. Great. You sighed loudly. âY/N? Is that you?â You froze and you felt your eyes grow wide. Of course! They were so stupid! Trying to set you up with him?! Because, who needs their heart or dignity? Thankfully, it was dark inside that cupboard and your blush wasnât visible. âHello, Siriusâ. âWhat poor excuses of friendsâ you thought but secretly you were living for those moments. Your heart would beat faster or even skip some beats; your pulse would accelerate too fast; your temperature would rise a bit. Your mind would shut down; your breath would be stuck in the back of your throat.  You would never feel more alive. All of the sudden, you felt him and you understood how small that damn cupboard was. You felt the heat radiating from his body. You could even feel his smirk- âhe had to be a bit uncomfortableâ you tried to reason, but who were you kidding? He loved physical contact and making other people feel really awkward by his presence alone⌠or even turned on. âHello to you too. If I knew it would be you, I would have locked myself in here, willinglyâ he said seductively. He was way too close. You moved just a bit to avoid his hands or his torso-oh, that torso⌠those wide shoulders, those abs and that back of his⌠You were thinking of other stuff as well. You blushed and even in the dark, it was very distinctive. You heard him chuckle. You finally looked him in the eyes. Maybe you shouldnât have. âOkay, okay, stop it!â you commanded your brain. âCan we please get out of here?â you asked softly, not trusting your voice. It was the fifth time something like this had happened. This week. You couldnât possibly count the total.Â
They were impossible. That moment you didnât even know why you were friends with them. âI dare you to lock yourself in our dorm. With Siriusâ James said with a cocky smirk. You blushed madly, trying to think of something that could help you. Anything, really. You carefully landed your glance at him. He looked a bit pale. Like he was⌠uncomfortable? Was it even possible? You had agreed to play this stupid game, only because Lily had talked you into it. You had never agreed to this. Being forced to do something like that. âProngs, donât make her do something she doesnât wantâ Sirius said casually but you swore you could hear his voice break a little. Did he⌠could he? âBesides, itâs Remus you should lock her withâ he continued like nothing was wrong. Your insides were twisting. Your stomach hurt and your heart had dropped to the floor. Of course, he didnât like you. But to think that you liked Remus? That was way too much. âAre you jealous Padfoot?â James asked teasingly. Come to think of it, he did sound jealous. But it couldnât possibly be because he liked you, right? Before someone could say or do something even worse, you sat up and murmured an incoherent excuse, whispering a good night and left. You really didnât need this. You knew this would go wrong. You knew you would let your fear take over your mind. It was hard not to. It started as a simple class. Just another DADA class. A class you actually enjoyed. Not this time. When the professor informed you that you would be facing boggarts because that would give you the real experience than just reading about them, you knew something would happen. You already knew your worst fear and you didnât want everyone to find out. But what could you do? A line was formed and you ended up to be one of the firsts. Just your luck. You witnessed the boggart to take the shape of everyoneâs fear. From a cockroach to a dragon and a serial killer. They all were shaken up afterward but they had managed to cast the spell and turn their fears into something ridiculous. When your turn came, you were nervous. Very. You stood there, frozen, afraid to even breathe. Blurring images of your friends were popping up. You braced yourself, trying to stop the boggart scaring you. âHow can you believe that we are your friends? You are a worthless nothing. Look at you. Patheticâ. It was Sirius. Boggart. Whatever. Everyone nodded in agreement, mocking you. You tried to cast the spell but you simply couldnât. You were paralyzed by the fact that those people that meant the world to you, felt like that. You tried to remind yourself, that it was the boggart, but that didnât help. The professor stepped in and faced his fear for a second before he turned it into something funny. You rushed out of that class. You couldnât even look at them in the eye. You found yourself near the Forbidden Forest, beneath a huge tree. You didnât want to admit that the whole thing had affected you more than you would have liked. âY/N?â, you heard someone calling your name. You hurried to hide your tears and regain your composure. But, alas. âHey, hey, heyâ. It was Sirius. Dammit. He quickly sat beside you and hugged you tightly. Soon enough three other pairs of arms were wrapped around you. They were squeezing you too much, you couldnât breathe but it was reassuring. You let yourself find peace in your friendâs hug. âYou do know that we love you, right? You are like a sister to usâ Remus said putting your mind at rest. You knew that. You only wished- âWell, not to everyoneâ Peter added. That was not the time to tease you. They stepped back a bit. You could still feel a pair of arms holding you close. Sirius. What was he doing? The three standing boys smiled knowingly and wiggled their eyebrow while they were walking away. âThey were right, you know. All of themâ Sirius whispered into your ear. His left hand was resting on your back-and waist-while his right was cupping your face, forcing you to look at him. His eyes were the purest thing you had ever seen. So honest, so kind, so savage and so gentle. Perfect cloudy sky- those were your favorite days, after all.  He whispered your name, his hot breath falling on your face and neck. It sent shivers down your spine. You were moving your lips closer to his; he was doing the same, but he was a tad faster. He pressed his soft, pink lips against yours in a very tender and loving kiss. Your hands went from resting on your lap to his jawline and hair. You hadnât even noticed when you had closed your eyes. It wasnât forced or uncomfortable. It felt right. He smiled into the kiss. Being with Sirius was easy as breathing. Sure, you had a couple of disagreements but they would all end up solved and you would end up in his arms. Not a day went by that you didnât let him know how much he meant to you. Not a day went by that he didnât tell you how precious you were to him. The sunlight was caught in his raven hair; you couldnât help but sigh at the view. He was getting dressed for class and you had just woken up still debating whether to get out of bed or not. His trousers hung dangerously low; his hip bones were sharp and you could still feel the skin under your fingertips. His shirt was open, showing off all of his glorious torso, reminding you how you would let your hands wander. His tie was hanging untied around his neck. He was standing in front of the full-length mirror and he caught you starring his reflection. He smiled to himself. That genuine smile. Not the smirk, not the seductive smile. Just his happy face. That it was all it took for you to melt and look the other way, blushing madly. He made his way to you. With one knee on his bed, his hands grabbed your legs, dragging you to him. You let out an airy laugh. He was impossibly cute. And sexy. Impossibly sexy. âSlept well, love?â he murmured before he pressed a soft kiss on your lips. You just nodded. âCare to help me?â he asked you, showing his open shirt. You blushed even more. You had seen him naked, for Merlinâs sake! Your hands were faster than your mind. They were already caressing his chest, staying a bit longer over his heart while you had locked eyes with him. Your heart was beating twice as fast as it did usually. Slowly, you helped his hands buttoned his shirt. âI love youâ you breathed out not thinking about it. You were sure of how you felt. You knew that he was the only one. You knew. And that awareness made everything clearer. His breath never left his lungs. He removed your hands from the collar of his shirt and held them in his. His eyes were sincere. âI love youâ he said back. You wanted to throw your arms in the air. He had said it back! You smiled widely and gave his hands a squeeze. âJust tie your tie, babyâ you reminded him while you were climbing down from his bed and walking into the bathroom. âYeah⌠umâ he said a bit uneased. You turned around, seeing him as he nervously scratched the back of his neck. You raised an eyebrow. âDonât tell that the infamous Sirius Black doesnât know how to tie his tie?â you said in a mocking tone and fake surprise. You held back your laugh. He just lowered his head in embarrassment while he plopped down on his bed. Lord, he looked adorable. You walked back to him. He was like a child. A child you loved deeply. You placed your hands on his tie trying to remember how to tie it. His hands rested on your hips. It lasted less than you would have liked, really. âReadyâ you announced. He smiled letting you go. However, you grabbed his tie and pulled him closer. Closer to you. âNot even a thank you kiss?â you asked playfully. Itâs safe to say that you both missed the first class. And the second. And the third. But you couldnât be happier.Â
#harry potter imagine#sirius black imagine#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black#ben barnes as sirius#sirius black x reader#sirius black fluff#young sirius black#young sirius x reader#james potter#remus lupin#lily evans#the marauders#marauders imagine#marauders era#marauders fluff#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fluff
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