#ez up tent

[customlogotents]

The Benefits of Investing in High-Quality Custom Tents

In the competitive world of marketing and event planning, every detail matters. High-quality custom tents with logo offer a perfect blend of practicality and brand promotion, making them a must-have for businesses, event organizers, and outdoor enthusiasts alike. Whether you’re hosting a trade show booth, a community fundraiser, or a corporate event, a durable and visually striking tent can set you apart and deliver exceptional value.

Let’s explore the key benefits of investing in high-quality custom tents and why they’re worth every penny.

1. Exceptional Brand Visibility

One of the most compelling reasons to invest in a custom tent is the ability to boost your brand visibility. A high-quality tent serves as a mobile billboard, showcasing your logo, colors, and marketing message.

Stand Out in Crowds: Whether at a trade show or outdoor market, a custom tent ensures your brand is seen, even from a distance.

Professional Appearance: A well-designed tent with crisp, vibrant graphics portrays your business as credible and professional.

Consistent Branding: Using your brand colors, fonts, and imagery ensures a cohesive look across all your marketing materials.

2. Durability and Longevity

Unlike cheap alternatives, high-quality custom tents are built to last. They’re designed to withstand repeated use and exposure to harsh weather conditions, making them a reliable investment.

Weather Resistance: Premium materials like waterproof fabrics and UV-protected canopies shield you from rain and sun.

Sturdy Frames: Aluminum or steel frames provide durability and stability, ensuring your tent stays secure in windy conditions.

Cost-Effectiveness: While the initial investment might be higher, the long lifespan of a high-quality tent reduces the need for frequent replacements, saving money over time.

3. Versatility Across Events

High-quality custom tents are versatile tools that can be used across various settings, from corporate events to casual gatherings.

Popular Applications Include:

Trade Shows: Create an inviting booth that attracts customers and displays your products.

Outdoor Markets: Protect your merchandise while promoting your brand in busy markets.

Community Events: Show your support and connect with your audience at local fairs or fundraisers.

Corporate Gatherings: Establish a branded space for networking, presentations, or product launches.

Their adaptability means they’re equally effective for professional and personal events, offering unparalleled flexibility.

4. Ease of Setup and Transport

High-quality custom tents are designed with convenience in mind, allowing for quick assembly and portability. This is particularly beneficial for businesses and event teams who need to set up and dismantle their booths frequently.

Key Features Include:

Pop-Up Mechanisms: Simplify setup with easy-to-use frames that can be assembled in minutes.

Lightweight Frames: Aluminum frames strike a balance between strength and portability.

Carrying Cases: Many high-quality tents come with wheeled bags or cases for easy transportation.

5. Enhanced Customer Engagement

An inviting custom logo tent encourages attendees to stop by and engage with your brand. It creates a space where you can connect with potential customers, showcase your offerings, and leave a lasting impression.

How High-Quality Tents Support Engagement:

Comfortable Spaces: Provide shade or shelter, making your booth a welcoming retreat during outdoor events.

Interactive Opportunities: Use the space for product demonstrations, giveaways, or conversations.

Brand Storytelling: High-quality tents reflect your professionalism and commitment to excellence, aligning with your brand story.

6. Protection for Your Team and Products

Outdoor events can be unpredictable, but a high-quality tent ensures you’re prepared for anything.

Benefits of Protection Include:

Weather Shield: Stay dry during sudden rain showers and cool under the scorching sun.

Product Safety: Safeguard your merchandise from environmental damage, such as heat, rain, or wind.

Comfort for Staff: Provide a comfortable environment where your team can focus on engaging with customers.

7. Increased Return on Investment (ROI)

While the upfront cost of a high-quality custom tent may be higher than a standard one, the long-term benefits make it a worthwhile investment.

Why High-Quality Tents Deliver ROI:

Reusable Asset: Use your tent across multiple events for years.

Boosted Sales Opportunities: Increased visibility and engagement can translate into higher conversions.

Marketing Tool: A high-quality custom tent doubles as an advertising platform, eliminating the need for additional signage.

8. Eco-Friendly Options

Many manufacturers of high-quality custom tents now offer environmentally friendly materials and production processes. Choosing these options allows you to align your brand with sustainable practices, appealing to environmentally conscious customers.

9. Customization for Unique Branding

High-quality tents provide endless customization possibilities, allowing you to tailor the design to your exact needs.

Customization Features Include:

Logo Placement: Ensure your logo is visible from all angles.

Color Schemes: Match the tent to your brand’s aesthetic.

Graphics and Messaging: Add slogans, imagery, or promotional content to enhance your tent’s appeal.

10. Social Media Worthiness

An eye-catching custom tent isn’t just great for events—it’s a magnet for social media. Event attendees often share photos online, and your striking tent design can serve as a backdrop, giving your brand free exposure on platforms like Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.

How to Choose the Right High-Quality Custom Tent

When investing in a custom tent, it’s important to consider these factors to ensure you’re getting the best value:

Material Quality: Opt for UV-protected, waterproof, and tear-resistant fabrics.

Frame Strength: Choose frames made from lightweight yet sturdy materials like aluminum.

Customization Options: Work with a supplier that offers professional design services and high-resolution printing.

Supplier Reputation: Look for reviews and testimonials to ensure reliability and quality.

Warranty: Select a tent with a warranty to protect your investment.

Conclusion

Investing in a high-quality custom tent with logo is a smart decision for any business or organization looking to enhance its presence at events. From boosting visibility and durability to fostering engagement and increasing ROI, the benefits far outweigh the initial cost. A custom tent isn’t just a shelter—it’s a reflection of your brand’s commitment to excellence and professionalism.

Take the time to choose a high-quality custom tent that aligns with your goals, and watch as it becomes a cornerstone of your marketing and event strategies.

FAQs

1. What makes a custom tent “high quality”? High-quality custom tents are made with durable materials, such as UV-resistant and waterproof fabrics, paired with sturdy frames for long-term use.

2. How long can a high-quality custom tent last? With proper care, a premium custom tent can last 5–10 years or more, depending on usage and environmental conditions.

3. Can I use a high-quality custom tent for indoor events? Yes, custom tents are versatile and can be used for both indoor and outdoor events. Indoor use may require smaller sizes or additional branding accessories.

4. Are high-quality custom tents easy to transport? Most high-quality tents are designed for portability, featuring lightweight frames and carrying cases with wheels for ease of transport.

5. Is it worth paying extra for a high-quality custom tent? Absolutely! The durability, branding potential, and long-term cost savings make high-quality custom tents a worthwhile investment.

[signagebuzz]

Welcome to SignageBuzz's complete setup guide for custom pop up tents! As a trusted custom tent manufacturer in the USA, we make setting up your custom canopy tent easy and hassle-free. In this video, we’ll walk you through each step for setting up various sizes of pop-up tents, including popular sizes like 10x10, 10x15, 10x20, 5x5, and 13x13. We cover everything from unpacking and assembling your tent frame to securely attaching back walls, side walls, and even the best methods for taking down and storing your tent safely.

This guide is designed to help vendors, business owners, event organizers, and anyone who needs a reliable, professional setup for their custom tents. Our easy-to-follow instructions ensure a sturdy and professional display, no matter the occasion! SignageBuzz is here to support your success at every event with high-quality, custom pop-up tents and expert guidance. Have questions? Feel free to reach out! For more information, visit our online store today or watch our complete setup guide for custom pop-up tents! 

[brandedcanopytentsusa1]

Grow Your business with the Art of Designing Canopy Tents

 Step into the world where functionality meets elegance as we delve into the intricate art of designing canopy tents. Explore the fusion of innovative engineering and aesthetic appeal that goes beyond mere shelter. Our blog unfolds the secrets behind crafting tents that not only shield you from the elements but do so with style. Discover the nuances of design, from selecting premium materials to incorporating cutting-edge features that redefine outdoor experiences. Whether it's a chic pop-up canopy for events or a robust shelter for adventurous outings, our insights guide you through the process of creating tents that stand out in the crowd. Embark on a visual journey through the latest trends and timeless designs that elevate your outdoor space. Uncover the inspiration behind each creation and understand how form seamlessly intertwines with function. From sleek modern designs to classic motifs, we explore the diverse landscape of canopy tent aesthetics. Join us as we unravel the tapestry of design possibilities, showcasing how thoughtful craftsmanship can transform a simple tent into a work of art. Elevate your outdoor lifestyle with canopies that not only provide shelter but make a statement. The artistry of designing canopy tents awaits – where every stitch, every choice, is a brushstroke on the canvas of outdoor elegance.

Package Includes

Roof & Valance Fully Printed With Unlimited Colors & Graphics

Back + 2 Half Walls Single Side Fully Printed With Unlimited Colors & Graphics

Half Walls Comes With Support Bar

Dye Sublimation Printing On A 600D Polyester

Fire Retardant, Water Resistant And UV Coated (NFPA-701, CAN/ULC-S109 And CPAI-84)

6ft Fully Printed Branded Table Cover (Fitted Style- 4 Sided)

9ft - Double Sided Printed Flag (2 Qty) Complete Flag Kit: Includes Double-Sided Printed Flag, Flag Poles, Carrying Case, And Flag Mounting Brackets

*Flag Includes Brackets To Connect With Tent Frame

Deluxe - 40mm Hexagonal Aluminium Frame (Rust Proof)

(4) Velcro Loop Added To Inside Of Valance Edge (Easy To Connect Full Walls)

2 Years Warranty

FREE SHIPPING - USA (48 Contiguous States)

Free Tent Design Service Instruction

 USD $3,080.00

Contact Us: 

Branded Canopy Tents

Division Of Starline Exhibits International

125 Townpark Dr, #300

Kennesaw, Georgia 30144 USA

888-414-7340

sales@brandedcanopytents.com

[universal-verringbebe]

LADS MEN AS YANDERES

Alternatively titled "when your boyfriend is a yandere but that's your kink"

a tentative 18+ MDNI because I don't get explicit but it's HIGHLY suggestive

Zayne:

• My man's is CRAZY possessive and dominant.

• You're not allowed to see any other doctors but him

• Even if he's busy with another patient, he demands that you wait until he's done, regardless of what kind of injury you have

• As soon as you officially get together, he has you moving into his flat

• You WILL be sleeping in his bed every single night, no exceptions

• Don't even think of taking a nap on the couch, it's the bed or nothing

• And you eat that shit up

• Every time he orders you to do something, you have to stop yourself from jumping him right then and there

• Like he'll put a glass of water in front of you and coldly order you to "drink" and suddenly you're on your knees trying to get your fluids from somewhere else.

• You have male friends? Not anymore.

• If some of them suddenly vanished because of some dude named Dawnbreaker, that's not your business.

• The type to have you in bed and make you talk before pleasing you

• "Say my name"

• "Good girl, now say it again but louder"

• "Tell me you're mine"

Xavier:

• He's absolutely the stalker type

• Before you even officially met him, he was stalking you for at least a year.

• The area you used to live in had a high crime rate but you never met any trouble

• Wild, wonder why

• When you moved to a new apartment, he was your neighbor, what a coincidence and he started bonding with you like that,

• Whenever you needed anything or was having trouble with something, he would conveniently be there with a solution.

• You start to suspect the stalking and confront him

• When he confirms you literally just say "wow that's hot, please take me now"

• And that's how you got together

• From then on, he's just glued to your side no matter where you go

• You get a new job? Who's that fine piece of ass that's your coworker? Oh, hi Xavier.

• In bed, and I will continue saying this on main with no shame for xavier specifically, BREEDING KINK 🗣️🗣️🗣️

• He's going to fill you up whether you like it or not

• Spoiler alert: you like it

• "Just take it all my star, gonna make you give me a galaxy"

• "If I put a baby in you, then you really will have to stay with me forever"

Rafayel:

• THIS FUCKER IS MANIPULATIVE and NEEDY

• The moment he laid eyes on you, it was a wrap gg ez

• Like he deliberately will bump his car into yours at a stoplight, say it was your fault and demand your information

• Of course he's not going to make insurance claims or anything, he'll just buy you both a new car

• But now he has your number and you're never getting rid of him

• If he catches someone flirting with you, they'll suddenly find themselves without a job, homeless, in prison for 10 years for a crime he definitely committed and pinned it on them.

• And you're just here like, damn, you're so sexy when you ruin other people's lives🤪🥴🥵

• He said say less and proposed to you right then and there.

• How dare you not have your attention on him 25/8, do you even love him?

• Definitely needs affirmations every 0.3 seconds

• Also demands you prove your love to him. Like, if you love him, you'll pose nude in front of a whole class just so he can watch you squirm

• Spoiler alert: you're squirming because this arouses you

• LOVES marking you up and buying you revealing clothing to show his artwork off

• "They all need to know you're mine"

• "Don't cover that up. In fact, let me make it bigger, come here"

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2024: October 5th

Day 5: Rough Sex // Anal Beads // Bondage

Ezra x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Rough sex, hair pulling, uncomfortable positions, choking, mild taunting, isolation, obsession (?)

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Nothing and no one in the Fringe is gentle. You can’t be. It’s a dog eat dog kind of existence, kill or be killed. Ezra, cunning and ruthless, is no exception. 

“Fuuuuuuuck.” His hiss is rough, almost as rough as the punishing pace of his thrusts as his hips slap against your ass brutally. The only thing keeping you from keeling over the box of supplies that clutter your tent is the fingers twisted into your hair and yanking your head back. Leverage, he calls it, although your scalp burns and your neck aches from the angle he keeps pulling you to as he hammers into your cunt. 

Your legs shake and your eyes close tightly every time he plunges deep, almost painfully into your core. Feeling like he’s in your fucking stomach and has no intention of letting up until he’s satisfied. 

The slick brutal sound of this coupling overpowers the soft hum of the scrubbers, the trickle of air coming out of the vent. Aided by his snarling and growling in your ear, making you shiver when he bites on your lobe.

“You’ll feel me for days.” He vows, sounding proud of that truth and he is. Every time he fucks you, he makes you feel him for days. Smirking when you gingerly sit or move as his shifty eyes follow you around. “Won’t you, birdie? You’re gonna sing for me.” 

You gasp, sucking in a lungful of air as he breaks you open again and again, forcing cunt to accommodate his thick cock. Shamefully getting slicker and squeezing him while that familiar pull of need tightens in your belly. Shooting straight to your cunt when he hits a little too deep and makes you hiss, lifting to your toes to find some kind of relief only to be yanked back down and his grip tightening around your waist. 

He fucks you like it’s his last mission in life, like you will disappear if he doesn’t hold tight. You might slip away like the temperamental aurelac that you mine for. 

You had never expected this when you had signed on with Ezra. Charmed by his overly talkative nature and the maddening little tuft of golden blonde hair, you had missed the undercurrent of darkness. The flash of brutality that he hides beneath amber eyes. 

There had been hope, hope of possibly tumbling into bed with the handsome prospector. It can be lonely in the fringe and fucking can pass the time and ease the temperments of even the most ornery soul. You had never expected him to completely own you, body and mind. “Ez- Ez-” Your voice catches every time he pushes back inside you, making even completing his name an impossible task but Ezra revels in it. 

“That’s it.” He coos, his tone one of dark, mocking pride in your ear. “You know you need this, little bird. You need my cock. You begged for my attention today, didn’t you? Kevva, you’re a fucking little tease, aren’t you? A siren.” 

You whine, feeling his fingers digging into your waist and anchoring you even more firmly to his chest as his hips piston and he rocks his cock in and out of your wet cunt. He has turned greedy, his desire nearly insatiable when you get back to the tent after spending the day in an enclosed suit and unable to touch more than your ears through the channel of the radios that connect you. 

Ezra is always rough when he fucks you, there no softness, no gentleness and it shames you how your body responds to it. Your nipples are harder than the useless stone aurelac turns into when the sulfuric acid of the sac is punctured. Panting as your stomach twists and coils in pleasure while his cock scrubs your walls with a ruthless tenacity that makes your eyes roll back in your head. 

The rough hewn wood of the primitive crates - where Ezra got them, you don’t really want to know - dig into your thighs and stomach. Scratching your skin and making it even more intense when he just doesn’t let up. 

He growls in your ear, a rough, unhinged sound. You don’t even have to look to know that his lips are curled into a snarl, his eyes dark and filled with a possessive glow. Right now he owns you. He owns your body, your pleasure, your very breath as his hand slides up from your hip to your throat. 

“I can’t hear you, birdie.” He hisses, the sharp punch of his cock making you squeak and his fingers flex, tightening around your neck and expertly cutting off your air. Making it impossible for you to do more than try to choke, your cunt clenching down around his length as your entire body reacts with that fight or flight response he uses to his advantage so well. 

Ezra chuckles, the tone filthy and menacing, knowing exactly how he is manipulating you, using you like a marionette on a string and he is the puppet master. “That’s it, squeeze my cock, girl.” He grunts. “I can feel how wet you get, you love the way I fuck you, don’t you?” 

You feel his fingers loosen, wanting an answer to his question. “Y-yes.” You gasp out, nodding against his hand and feeling the slight pressure. Feeling that he wants to choke you again. “Ezzzzraaaaaa.” 

You feel your body jolt and he growls your name. “Cum for me.” He demands, the intensity of his thrusts ramping up. Somehow fucking you harder than he had before. Making your vision go white and your voice breaks on a scream that echoes on the isolated planet where you are mining to make your riches. 

The wet clench of your cunt, the slick that pours out of you, just makes Ezra that much more feral. Kicking your feet farther apart and flattening you over the crates. Crowding your body with his and pressing tight. Not allowing any space between you, his thrusts grinding into you. 

He fucks you through the highs of your orgasm, pushing ever deeper, using your juices to feed his cock ever forward into your cunt. Until he is butting against your cervix, punching against it. Battering at it like it's a gate to a fortress that he is trying to sack. 

You couldn’t push up on your toes even if you wanted, his body pinning you down. His grunts get deeper, more breathless as he drives himself closer to filling you up. His groans draw out like a prayer to Kevva. 

All you can do is hold on, your cunt quivering and your thighs shaking while he hammers into you. Waiting for that moment when his hips stutter. When you know that he has finally pushed himself over that edge. 

His hands tighten, painful and beautiful as he stiffens behind you. Slamming into you one last time while he empties himself into you. Pours himself into your body with hot waves that seem to continue on forever. 

“Keeeeeva.” He groans softly, panting when he finally stops moving. The air is heavy and filled with the purified air and the pungent smell of sweat and sex. “Good girl.” He praises breathlessly. Knowing that he will take you just as fervently tomorrow, just as rough. Never getting his fill of your body and the pleasures it brings. 

[prettyboykatsuki]

VIOLET | RAZOR. (GENSHIN)

✾ tags ; afab + gn!reader, aged-up characters, virginity loss/first times, established relationship, mutual virginity loss, nipple play, fingering, oral (f!recieving), creampies (reader is using a contraceptive), reader is mentioned to be an orphan / run away , 18+

✾ wc ; 6.1k (went to edit and went 700 words over the wc. pain)

✾ a/n ; i'm losing my mind btw. razor my only triple crowned character my most greatly beloved my angel my sweet. also i added the aged up tag mostly bc its the genshin fandom but. if u dont like that dont read. ez peazy.

also trust and believe the voice im picturing in this is his jpn dub. this is important

✾ synopsis ; you resolve yourself after many long years of abstinence, you're going to ask razor about sex the minute he comes home.

Razor is human. 

On a technical level, this information isn’t news to you. He looks human. His physical makeup is human. He needs to eat and sleep like humans do. Focusing on the technicals alone, Razor is very, very human.

It doesn’t change that he was raised by wolves, though. And you don’t want it too. You think it’d be a shame if he started to assimilate too much into human society just because he felt like he had too. You know how he feels about it. And that Boreas is the closest he’s ever had to a father figure, thus making his claim about Razor's humanity a rather devastating blow. He feels inhuman all while knowing he is. You think once upon a time, he really did wish to be a wolf. 

You’ve known Razor since you were a teenager. You’d ended up in Wolvendom after your exploration of Teyvat led you to its outskirts. You’d bonded over your similarities. Two orphans with no real place where they fit in completely and complete odd-ball personalities - Razor was an easy friend for you to make. Even when you eventually decided to settle into Mondstat - you’d made a point to visit Razor regularly and spend time with him in the forest. 

You made an odd pair of course, but you didn’t mind. If no one else understood you in the world - you know Razor always would. He’d listen patiently about all of your adventures and sit quietly as you decided to pester him by braiding his hair or teaching him new words. Loyal, obedient, sweet.

You never formally had the boyfriend conversation in the time you’d spent together. One day, however, Razor took you to meet Boreas out of the blue as well as the leader of his pack. You figured maybe it was something he did with his close friends. It only occurred to you that maybe this was a more serious meeting when Razor promptly gestured towards you and introduced you as his mate. 

Razor, predictably, was very confused about your minor freak out. You tried not to let it show during your little chit-chat, but afterwards you’d shaken him by the shoulders and interrogated him about his word choice. This of course didn’t register in his mind at all. According to Razor, you’d been his mate since long ago. He’d been courting you since the moment you met in the way wolves are known too. You’re an adventurer, well-versed in certain animal behaviors for the sake of survival, including wolves. 

And looking back on your interactions he was right,  Razor had been courting you from the start. The news made you flush, and you went back into Razors camp and thoroughly educated him on human courting rituals.

(“Why matter?” Razor asks, head laid in your lap while he looks up at you from inside the tent “Not important.” 

“Why would it not be important?” 

He turns towards you, head facing your stomach as one arm lazily wraps around your waist. He yawns sleepily, seemingly not worried about a thing. 

“You are mate. Mate last until death.” He explains, casually - like he’d always believed he’d spend every minute of his life with you. Like that was the only natural outcome for you both and that he’d never consider anything else. You want to explain, it’s different for humans. Humans don’t usually mate that way, you should say. But the words die out in your mouth as he clings closer to you “Sorry for..not asking.. properly. What are we…as humans?” 

You look down at where he lays, thumb brushing over his cheek. 

“Lovers or life partners. They’re closest to the word mate, in definition.” 

“Lovers easier,” He grumbles, eyebrows tightening at the complex words in your sentence “You want to be lovers with Razor?” 

You laugh. Light and bubbly and warm as you lean forward and try to mask the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. 

“Yes. We’re lovers from now on. And mates. And lupical, right?” 

Razor sighs contentedly into your midriff.

“And lupical.”)

According to Razor, you had been mates from the minute you met. According to your human timeline, you have been dating since you were both around 17. It’s been a long time since then and nothing in your relationship has changed.

You’re an adult now and you work with the city of Mondstat studying wildlife populations. You live in the city in a cottage, and Razor lives with you - though he spends most of his day outside. He does the domestic labor while you whittle away at papers and projects. Because of your job, you still spend a fair bit of time together in the wild. He has plenty of insight about the wildlife in Wolvendom and is keen enough on changes to give significant contribution to your study. His work as your partner is unofficial, but everyone acknowledges that you come together in a set. Where you go, Razor follows.

You’re happy with your life. With your relationship to your wolf-boy boyfriend, with the career you’ve carved out of scratch and the life you’ve built. You left your orphanage young and spent a long time on the run. You’re incredibly thankful for all of what you have and you could never think of what more to ask for. 

This is especially true for you and Razor. You’ve never had any real major obstacles in your relationship. Part of this comes from the wolven habit of mating for life. Concepts like pride are foreign to Razor. He says sorry even when he doesn’t completely understand and he has no concept of betraying your loyalty. Most things you can teach, he learns very quickly. But there are also some things no one ever teaches you to navigate. Some boundaries you can’t be sure you’re allowed to cross. 

You’re a blossoming, healthy person in their twenties and so is Razor. He’s scarred and athletic in the outdoorsy way and he’s a little more rugged now that you’ve both grown. He’s hit a growth spurt and he’s taller than you and every time you see his arm flex carrying in an entire boar to butcher in your yard - you start getting so hot under the collar you feel like you’re going to explode. 

The problem is: you want to have sex and you want to have it badly. You want it so bad it’s starting to make you feel like you’re a deviant. Like you’re some kind of harlot masquerading as an archon-fearing civilian.

But it’s so hard to bring up and you don’t know how you’re ever going too. 

You’re very good at asking for what you want usually. It comes with the territory. And thanks to your boyfriend's cluelessness about human social convention, asking for things isn’t embarrassing. Concepts like shame are learned through a lifetime of socialization that he lacks and while you could sit and try to teach him - you don’t think he would care either way. He listens if you tell him he shouldn’t do something, but that’s because you’re his mate and his lupical. 

What other people think is none of his concern. He cares about his Lupical. So if Lisa or Bennet or Klee tell him something, he might take it into consideration. But they, like you, love the parts of Razor that make him how he is and his complete innocence in some ways is part of that. 

You know you could very well ask Razor for sex. You’ve spent a lot of time together and you’ve learned many things about him. It’s not like there’s nothing there at all. Like his every other trait, Razor normally relies on instinct to guide him. You’ve learned through kisses and dry-humping that he can get hard at least. You’ll probably never know the details of his arousal, and the only you’ll ever find out is by having sex with him. 

You don’t know what else he knows. What Lisa has told him of the birds and the bees. 

You have tried to ask Lisa inadvertently, but she enjoys making fun of you too much to give you any straightforward answers. And in her own maternal way, she thinks it’d be better for your relationship if you go ahead and ask yourself. 

She’s right about that, but it’s also not very easy. You know Razor would never judge you. He doesn’t even have the capacity to do so. But while Razor knows nothing of shame, you certainly do. 

It’s your problem to get over. You know that. You rationalize that your fantasies are healthy and normal for someone your age. But there is something terribly humiliating about trying to express the extent of your desire apart from just having it. Is it fair to teach Razor about desire? Does he know of it already and the both of you just suffer in silence? 

Razor is a man. A grown man, and tougher than most men you know. He’s seen more than almost anyone else as part of living in the woods. You know he’s not some innocent fairy. But you can’t get over the feeling like you’re corrupting his sweet preciousness somehow. 

(This has its own charm, but that’s not relevant. Or maybe it is. Maybe there’s guilt for that too but it’s not something you can unpack) 

You’re reaching your upper limit on patience. Your hand can only do the job so long (though the import of sex toys from Fontaine do help) nothing can truly replace what you want. And what you want is Razor.

So, you’ve made your choice. When Razor comes home from…what he’s doing today - you’re going to ask him to have sex.

__

You’ve finished all of your work, did as many chores as you can, and now you’re waiting in your bedroom trying to read a book.

You haven’t even read past the first page, actually. But you’re trying. It’s hard to do anything meaningful when your brain keeps pivoting back to what's going to happen when your boyfriend returns home. 

You’re nervous and fidgeting, rubbing your socked feet together and running over the laundry list of talking points you’ve concocted trying to make this happen. You shaved but not bare because you know he definitely wouldn’t like it, but you’re clean. You aren’t sure if he’s going to like that either and he’s expressed that he likes when you smell natural. But it soothed your anxiety to shower so he’ll have to leave with it. 

You have no idea how this could go. You don’t even know how to prepare for the worst, because you don’t know what the worst is. But you reassure yourself with the fact Razor loves you and leave it at that.

You hear the door open and take a deep breath. 

There’s heavy footsteps that get louder and louder. Razor cracks the door open politely, peeking his head into your shared room. He makes a face, the softest little smile you’ve ever seen - before letting himself in and shutting the door behind him. He’s quick to undress himself - jacket and scarf abandoned along with his boots. Leaving him in green pants and a bandage around his chest and arsm. 

“Hi,” He says simply, coming down over to where you’re laid. He chooses to sit on the floor, folding his arms on the bed as he looks at you patiently “Missed you,” 

“Hey there,” Your heart is pounding just looking at him. He’s unreasonably handsome. Had he grown up in normal conditions, you think he would’ve been a very popular loner type. “How was your family?” 

“Good,” He says shortly, eyes warm and light “New pup. First time seeing since I was little. Very small and cute.” 

“I’m glad. Bet it’s nice not to be the youngest anymore.” 

“Come next time,” He says genuinely “They miss you.” 

Your heart is so full you think it might burst. It temporarily soothes your anxiety.

“Of course I will.” 

Razors eyes examine you for a minute. Your heart is still racing. Of course he notices it. He knows much more about you than you’ll ever know about yourself. His brow creases in concern. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You look at him apologetically, immediately warmed by how worried he is. You give him a small smile. 

“I’m okay. Just a little nervous. Wanted to ask you about something.” 

“Okay. I listen. No need to..be nervous.” 

Right. He’s right about that. You sit up and Razor remains where he is. He’s seated comfortably on the floor, on his knees - between your thighs. He’s a sight for sore eyes, terribly rugged and scarred with nothing but honesty settled in his gaze. Carmine and beautiful. You fold your hands in your lap and before you can worry too much, Razor grabs one in his hand. 

He kisses your knuckles so gently, leaning his face into your palm. 

“It’s okay.” 

You figure it’s best to be straight to the point. 

“Uhm. Razor. Do you…know what sex is?” 

“Yes.” 

“Well, it’s—wait what? Did you just say yes?” 

He nods again. “Miss Lisa taught me.” 

That witch. You take a deep breath. It’s now or never.

“And uhm, what did she tell you about it?” You ask tentatively. 

“Like mating but for humans. Best to do with mate. Good to be careful or else pups will come too soon.” 

You stare at him, jaw slack. 

“Right. And what else?” 

He racks his brain right in front of you. 

“Uhm. Can be for…feel good. Should go slow. Lots of things different from wolf.” 

“...Do you know how it happens? The specifics?” 

Razor goes a soft pink. Razor blushes. 

“Yes.” 

You have no idea what to feel. Not the faintest clue in the world. This is the first time in your entire relationship either of you have been in an awkward situation. You’re partially relieved it’s not completely foreign, partially feeling hot between the legs because you’re not corrupting anything. You make a face of uncertainty. 

“Oh. Uhm. Do you—have you ever.. I mean—have you ever wanted to have sex with me then? I-is that something you’d…want to do?” 

Razor almost looks perplexed by this question. He nods, then follows up. 

“Yes. A lot.” 

You nearly choke on your spit. 

“A lot?” 

“Yes. But.. Miss Lisa said to wait. Until mate asks.” 

You’re going to have a serious discussion with that damned woman later. You take a shaky breath, looking at him carefully. This is going to break you in a way you don’t know if you’ll recover from. But you’re fine, you’ve made it this far. And you don’t want to back down when you haven’t gotten to the finish line. The final blow. 

You’re not completely sure where you go from here honestly. Your brain was fully expecting to go on a long rant about sexual intercourse. Now that that’s out of the window, you’re at a loss. You decide, internally, that going straight forward is the best thing you could do for now. 

“Then… would you want to have sex with me?” 

His eyes widen then he pauses, looking worried. 

“Well…yes. But, worried. Not sure…how.” 

“Well, uhm. Normally it starts with kissing and t-touching and things like that. You can just do what feels right. Uhm.. and I’ll tell you… what I like. A-and what feels good.” You offer, trying not to show just how nervous you are even suggesting “But uhm… I also… think about it. A lot. With you.” 

His eyes light up, and you can practically see the change in him. You’ve never let yourself get close enough to look but when you see him now that you know, it’s obvious. He’s looked at you like this before. 

Like he wants you. 

“Razor,” You say, bracing yourself for impact “Come up here.” 

He’s quick to his feet. You lay back down and Razor lays himself ontop of you, hovering gently. He smells like forest, the rich warm scent of dirt and sunlight mixed with sweat that you’ve grown fond of. Looking down at you, he presses his forehead against yours with his eyes fluttered closed. 

“Mate,” His breath is warm like he’s been chewing mint leaves and sweet flowers. He does it sometimes before coming home “Love you,” 

“I love you too, Razor. You don’t,” You swallow thickly, suddenly aware of your proximity “Don’t hold back okay? You won’t break me.” 

“Want to..” He thinks slowly, brain clearly struggling to come up with the right word “Cherish. Want to cherish mate. Cherish you.” 

You give him a breathy laugh as he leans in close to you. 

“Did Miss Lisa teach you that?”

“Yes,” He replies, pressing his cheek to yours and rubbing himself against you innocently “Cherish you a lot.” 

“I cherish you a lot too,” You offer and he smiles. You feel your heart thump as you look up at him less innocently “Let’s kiss first, okay” 

He doesn’t reply. This much is familiar. Though this was something you had to teach him at first, you would go as far as saying Razor kisses better than you. He’s better than you in these ways most of the time. He knows how to read your body language down to the most irrelevant details, attuned to your physicality in a way that could only be inhuman. The first time he noticed a change in your cycle after starting some herbal contraceptives, you were turned on as much as you were afraid. 

His mouth is hot and overwhelming, plush as he kisses you passionately. He’s quick to open your mouth up with his tongue. Razor likes to taste. It’s natural for him to slip his tongue past your lips and lick at yours. You think if anyone else did it you’d be turned off. But with him hovering you over you, desperate as he pulls and nips at your lower lip - it’s stimulating.  It makes you wet before you can think about it too hard. Your hands curl themselves around his neck, tangling at the thick roots of his gray hair. 

He moans when you tug, and your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets. You do it again, a little harder and the same broken sound leaves his lips in the middle of kiss. You swallow the noise before pulling away, looking at his face. His face is perfectly rosy, lips swollen from where you’ve been kissing them.

“Did you,” You look at him erratically, eyes going over every part of his face “Did that feel good?” 

He nods, dumbfounded. 

“Felt good but,” He shakes his head in disbelief “Don’t know why.” 

You giggle, delighted with the outcome. 

“No it’s good, that’s normal.” You say trying not to babble “It’s like your body’s weak point.”

“Not weak.”

“It’s not a bad thing. I have some too. Like my neck.”

You can see the gears turning in his head.  He tucks his chin against your shoulder and before you can speak to ask him about it, he’s pressing his lips against the skin of your neck. He doesn’t stop at a kiss, though. He proceeds to lick the small patch of tender flesh, before sinking his teeth into it.

You moan. You moan sharp, almost like a gasp of pain. He opens his mouth to ask if you’re okay but when he sees you he stops. He blinks, then gives you a look you’ve never seen. 

His voice is almost chipped - richer and more hoarse as his fingers go over what can only be bite marks.

“Feels good?” He says, then adds more urgently “Where else?”

You’ve made him discover something. You’re sure of that. He looks awfully determined about it, too. 

You sigh shakily, grabbing his hands. Even though you’re trembling mercilessly, you want this. You want him. You let his hand squeeze around the swell of your tits - your nipples peeking through the thin fabric of your shirt. With your eyes locked on his, you brush your nipples.

“H-here,” You admit watching his eyes go dark. Animalistic. “Uhm. W-with your mouth, you c-can suck on them.” 

He’s quiet. 

“Like pup?” 

You laugh. 

“A little bit like that, I guess. But it’s different.” 

He makes a small, approving noise with his mouth, once again thinking hard about something before he continues down his path. He leaves open kisses all over your skin, hands reaching to undress you. You help him, peeling your shirt over your head and tossing it somewhere. His eyes are shut closed, in bliss as he licks and bites down your neck with no real grace. His tongue is wet and rough all over you. 

You can tell you’re being primed for something animal. Like being tenderized, worked apart in a way that makes you melt into something soft. Something that can be broken without teeth, that can be swallowed in one go. It’s not a romantic kiss as much as it’s a hungry graze, a gnawing lust. He’s not being so reserved anymore, and that means sinking his teeth as far into you as he can go, not enough to break the skin. Razor would never break you. But he might ruin you, might melt you down from your very center until he can tear you apart. 

You thought it’d hurt, and it does - but in a good way. There’s some sick sense of relief in how achy your whole body is. You’re burning up because Razor wants you like he’s starving. An emptiness claws at you, makes the back of your gums ache. Makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand nearly straight as you sink deeper in. You want to be full of him and you want him to get so full off of you. 

Razor doesn’t stop his tirade even when he gets down to your chest. Instead his mouth closes around your tit, hard incisors sinking into the supple skin but only slightly gentler than before. His canines feel sharper than yours. They must be. 

“O-oh,” You can feel your voice shake as you hold onto the back of his head. He touches the other one with his free hand, squeezing and massaging the skin. He rubs your nipples experimentally in the same way you did a moment ago. “Razor, hngh,” 

A noise is pulled from the back of his throat, a growl - so hard and heavy that it reverberates into your skin. You can feel it spread through your whole body, your core tightening up. Your skin is prickly. A solar flare shooting through your spine. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been so aroused. You can hardly breathe around the weight of it sitting in your chest.

“Your scent..change.” Razor says through a breath, a thick layer of saliva where his mouth once was “Hot. So hot.” 

You nearly whimper. 

“ It’s because I’m wet…Aroused.” 

“Wet?”

“It means I want to be touched. I want you to touch me down there.” 

A beat of silence. 

“Want me..to mate with you.” He sits up onto his knees, staring at you. Your legs are around his waist loosely. He presses a hand to your clothed sex. You jolt at the contact. “Want me to fill you, here?” 

He puts his hand on your hip, on your stomach - before tucking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

“Want to see. What’s wet, I want to see.” 

You lift your legs slightly, pulling your shorts off as you're bent at the knee. It’s embarrassing being bare naked in front of Razor, though you’ve seen him in the same state plenty. He’s quick to grab your knee and force your legs apart wide. He’s got that same focused stare, tongue poked out as he brushes the coarse hairs on your mound with his knuckle. You squirm under the feeling. 

“Pretty,” He says first, then follows with “It’s…very warm. Hot but doesn’t hurt” 

Razor explores with his hands. He runs his finger along your slit, before using his thumbs to spread you apart. He nudges your clit. At first you wonder if it's an accident, but when he does it again - rubs a pointed circle on the aching bundle of nerves you realize he’s being intentional. 

“Here, right?” Razor says slowly and gauges your reaction “Feels good for you…here. Helps.” 

You want to ask who taught him such a thing but you already know the answer. You nod helpless, feeling the way his thumb goes back and forth. He tries it in different ways, watches whatever way makes your breath hitch the most. 

“Here makes you… jump. Like bunny rabbit. Like prey”

The word prey almost takes you out. You can’t make your words out very eloquently anymore. “It’s uhm sensitive.” 

He knows the word. You’ve taught him it. He looks at your bare cunt all awestruck, gloved hand resting on your sex as he continues to toy with your clit. You squirm and shake, even trying to pull away. Razor manages to grab you, keeps you pinned with your legs spread, using his own body to keep you like that. 

“Razor,” You moan, grabbing at his wrist “Razor.” 

“Mm. It’s soft. So soft.” 

“I want to see yours.” 

It takes him a second to register your words, but he’s not ashamed in the slightest when he does. He takes off his gloves right before. You’ve felt it, briefly, the weight and heft of his cock through clothes but you’ve never actually seen it. You gasp as he pulls it out, tucking his pants down under his balls. He’s hairy - thick dark gray hairs nested at the base. His cock has a pretty curve up, tip ruddy and bright. It’s drooling, dribbling pre-cum and heavy. He wraps his free hand around the base and strokes it instinctively. It’s a good length, but it’s thick. Thicker than you could’ve ever conjured up in your own mind.

You reach for it between your bodies, your hands trembling as you touch it. Razor lets out another throaty growl. Your hand doesn’t fit around it completely. The back of your throat tightens up.

“You’re—it’s big. I can’t—not at once. I h-have to open myself up a little bit.” 

Razor tilts his head to one side and you shake yours in reply. 

“I need to uhm,” You gesture vaguely “Make it more..wet and stretch myself out. So you fit i-inside.” 

“Want to help. Teach me.” 

“...Teach you?” 

“Easier if I..learn now. When we do it again later. Teach me..how to touch you.” 

The words sound sweet coming out of his mouth, honeyed and loving. An obedient and eager pupil, Razor has always been that hasn’t he? And he always listens the best he can, tries his hardest. You suppose that this instance is no different. You suck in a breath and spread your legs a little more. 

“Watch,” 

Razor watches. He watches as you dip your fingers into your mouth and coat them with saliva. Watches as you snake a hand in between your legs and dip your middle finger down low into your cunt - with a trembling sigh at the sudden intrusion. He watches intimately as you pump them in and out, rhythmic and noisy. The sound of your own wet heat rings in your ears as you spread yourself in earnest. 

Half-way through, Razor puts a hand on your thigh. He pushes your own hand away, and waits for you to open your eyes. He stares at you, long and hard. 

“I want to eat you. Want to lick,” His hand cups your bare pussy “Here. Make you wet. Open you by myself. Want to eat.” 

You’re speechless. Profoundly turned on by the sentiment, so much so you can’t make out your own voice. 

“Uhm,” You close your hands into a fist, tucking your chin. “You can do whatever you like, Razor.” 

He assesses the statement and you watch him take it in. He ends up on his stomach, lying between your thighs. You’re fascinated by his assurance in himself. He takes the right position between your legs. You spread out to give him easier access and he gives you a silent look of thanks. His breath is warm as it fans your cunt. 

Before you get a chance to breathe, Razor sticks his tongue and licks. It’s animalistic with no real finesse at all. He makes up for it with enthusiasm and some conclusions he’s drawn with your assistance. He sucks on your clit nearly feverish, takes it into his mouth like he did your tits minutes prior. It’s drooly and sticky and nasty in a way that makes you ashamed. You’re more ashamed because you like it, you love it really. Spit is running down, dripping down to your ass. It’s a loud slurp - a shameless, nasty hunger in how he licks up your arousal with his mouth and drenches your pussy with spit. 

His groans reverberate into you. He likes what he’s doing. The sound and touch and taste - Razor overwhelms you with all of it. There’s a tangible intensity wrapping up around you, keeping you trapped in the wolf's den. 

You don’t teach him to use his fingers. He seems to have figured it out. The pad of his middle finger draws the spit pooling along your seam before pushing itself into your tight hole. You gasp at how invasive it is at first. Razors fingers are thick and scarred and you can feel the ridges of your raised skin from healed injured when he fucks you open with them. 

It feels good. Being wanted. Being consumed voraciously and openly without any care for shame. Razor is the embodiment of raw desire and all of it- every ounce of it is being used to devour you. The descendant of wolves, the son of the forest - laid between your thighs and eating like something delicious left at an abandoned altar. 

Even clumsy, you’re turned on beyond reason. Arousal leaves you shakily pawing at him to slow down. Your voice is reduced to nothing but small whines and mewls - pleas to slow down that fall on deaf ears. 

“Razor,” Your voice is clipped “Razor, please - it’s enough. Just.” 

When he snaps out of his haze, his chin is soaked with arousal and spit. He wipes it with the back of his hand, looking at you. 

“Tastes good. You taste nice.” He praises, heaving and out of breath. 

Your stomach flares up with new found lust, hands covering your face. 

“Archons, just. Come here.” 

Razor climbs up on top of you again. You cup his face and kiss him hard, tasting yourself on him. 

“You’re so unfair. But I can’t get angry because you’re not even doing it on purpose.”

“Sorry,” 

You shake your head, kissing the corner of his mouth. Trembling with need. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I want you inside. Want you to fill me in here, so bad, Razor.” 

His eyes widen. Your desperation must reach him this time, because he nods. innocently. You’re thankful beyond words you’re on contraceptives. At this point, you think trying to use a condom would break you down.

“You just have to put it inside. But please go slowly, okay?” 

“Go slowly…won’t hurt you.” 

Razor sits up on his knees again, drawing your waist down towards him. Before he pushes into you, he lays his cock against your sex - pushing it between messy folds. His expression morphs, his jaw tensing as the head of his cock swells and throbs against your aching clit. It slides and slips so messily, pussy clinging to his hard length. You guide his cock towards your entrance while he leans forward over you. His palms are rough as they grab your hips, hands settling up under your knees. 

You can feel his cock as he rolls his hips slowly. Your nails dig into his back, indenting the skin as you cry out. It’s thick, intrusive as he pushes into your tight little hole. Even after opening you up, there’s an ache inside as the head stretches your pussy open. The raw drag of skin on skin as Razor pushes inside of you. You can feel him with every movement, your legs wrapped around his waist tight.

Razor has always had a limited vocabulary. He likes to speak in short sentences since it’s what he does best. His speech now is a lot more developed, but he still finds it troublesome. 

It stuns you when Razor's grip tightens and he swears under his breath - a single word, long and drawn out as his cock pushes into you deeply. 

“Fuck,” 

“R-razor?” 

“Feels good…feels so good. Want…move. Please.” 

“You can move, just let me hold onto you okay?” 

Razor tucks his head against your neck before he fucks you. In one smooth motion, he pulls himself out completely before shoving himself back in. It’s as gentle as he can go, but you can practically feel him shaking above you. How his whole being urged him to fuck you llike an animal. The desperation rolls off of him in waves, his own hands gripping tighter as he slowly finds a rhythm to fuck you in. Clumsy thrust that turns into careful calculated ones as you urge him to go deeper. 

“Deep,” Razor pants against your neck, his breath tickling your skin. His voice is a low growl as his hips snap up to meet the back of your thighs with each thrust. Your bed creaks each time he moves, the frame knocking against the wood “I’m deep inside you,” 

“Razor,” You sneak a hand between your bodies, clumsily toying with your clit - pleasure ruining your every thought “Harder. Give it to me harder.” 

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Razor gives up on trying to hold himself back. He fucks you with nearly reckless abandon, an impressive amount of strength and weight behind each thrust. His dick pushes in and out of you hard and fast in the most unromantic way. You can feel it all the way up to your throat. It makes the back of legs and and your lower half feel tingly. Your head is blank, nothing but spotted white in your vision. You blink them open to look at Razors face. 

He’s biting at his lower lip hard, focusing all of himself on his thrusts. He’s enduring it well. Your insides clench, a fluttery sensation starting to build up between your legs. You can feel it in your belly, the knot starting to untie. 

Razor is starting to feel it too him. 

“Inside so, ngh - hot.  S-something coming, going to—” 

“A little more. Gonna cum soon, Razor. Feels so good, you make me feel so good.” 

Your mindless praise makes him whimper. A soft noise that echoes through you. You repeat it over and over, in a high voice like you’d praise a puppy. Razor takes it in beautifully, trying so hard not to succumb to his own desires. He restrains despite how hard and how fast and how deep he’s fucking you. You know it’s not easy. 

“I’m gonna c-cum, Razor,” You say, at the very edge “Cum with me. It’s okay, you can let it out.” 

You cum hard. Harder than you think you ever have in your life, then you’ve ever been able to manage by yourself. The sensation hits all at once, like falling through the sky, you can feel the clouds pushed away by the weight of you coming down through. Your insides tighten and tense one last time before everything releases at once, and waves of the aftershock leave your pussy fluttering. You’re washed with pure euphoria, crying out Razor’s name as you cum. 

Razor is quick to follow you. Your own orgasm seems to drive him over the edge, and he cums deep inside. He muffles his cry by biting into your shoulder, groaning as hot seed spills into your cunt with a harsh stutter of hips. He fucks into your pussy, soft and messy before bottoming out and nearly collapsing on top of you. 

It takes you a long minute to catch your breath well enough to speak. 

You rub Razors back soothingly before you do. He lifts his head, eyes heavy as he looks at you. 

“Wow,” He says, eyes wide and blown out. You can’t help but break out into a fight of laughter “Love you…”

“I love you too, Razor.”

“Wanna do it again,” Razor says, looking at you seriously “Can I?” 

You feel a pulse of warmth through your whole body before nodding. 

“Uhm. Yes. Just give me a break first, okay?” 

[jelzorz]

188.

Ezran has a go at them both when they get back. Rayla doesn't blame him—most of it is motivated by grief and a kingdom is a lot to lose indeed, but it's also because they were there, they were so close to home, and what were they doing? Runaan is essentially her father, yes, but he'd still killed Ez's dad, and they'd released him while Sol Regem was burning Katolis to the ground.

Rayla would be mad too, if it were her. If the Silvergrove was destroyed and the people closest enough to help were freeing criminals instead, she'd be furious. She makes no excuses, not for them nor for Runaan, who should have known better, who did and killed Harrow anyway, but it's still heartbreaking to see Ez in so much pain and to see the castle that was very quickly becoming home in ruins.

They're camped by the temples now. They still have supplies from their trip and there are civilians who need the space and the bedrolls more. Callum doesn't want to be around Ez right now anyway, not after the screaming match they'd had at the ruins, and as much as Callum had tried to defend them, he knows, deep down, that Ez is right. He sulks the evening away, poking aggressively, guiltily at their fire while the clerics dish out what little dinner there is available.

Rayla leaves him to it in search of something to do distract her from her own guilt and winds up helping Soren and some of the other soldiers pitch tents in the fields as an alternative for something more long term. She's tightening a guy wire when Ez finds her.

"Can we talk?"

Rayla twitches her lips. "Sure."

There's a pause. Ez can't quite look at her and Rayla swings her arms awkwardly, her throat tight. In a rare show of reading the room—or lack thereof, Rayla supposes—Soren makes himself scarce, claiming he needs Opeli to check the stitches on his forehead, and then it's just her and Ez and the distant sound of chatter in the night.

"Are you angry at me too?" asks Ez at last.

Rayla stares at him. It's not what she expected at all. "Why on earth would I be angry at you?" she says stupidly. "You were right. We were closer and we should have come back sooner. We shouldn't have—" She cuts herself off and glance away, not quite able to regret it completely. "I'm sorry we weren't here," she says instead. "You have every right to be angry at us."

Ez shakes his head. "Katolis is my responsibility," he mumbles. "It doesn't matter what you were doing. I should have been here. I never should have left."

"Ez, you couldn't have known—"

"It doesn't matter," he snaps. "I'm supposed to be king. I'm supposed to protect these people, and instead—" He hiccoughs and shuts his eyes. "I should have known something was wrong when Sol Regem didn't show up for Queen Janai's brother. We should have gone looking for him, we should have—"

"Ezran, stop it," says Rayla sharply. "This isn't your fault."

"It might as well be!" snarls Ez. "Why wasn't I here, Rayla? Why couldn't I have done something to stop this? All those people dead, friends, family, brothers and sisters and moms and dads and kids lined up in the square, why—" He cuts himself short, knees buckling, shoulders shaking with every shuddering sob. Rayla's heart shatters for him, and she crosses the distance between them and pulls him into her arms, all of the anger between them be damned. "Why couldn't I protect them?" he sniffs. "Why couldn't I have been a better king?"

Rayla shushes him, her arms tight and steady around his shoulders. "It wasn't your fault," she says firmly. "You didn't cause this. You couldn't have stopped it. You're a good king, Ez, and we need to focus on protecting whatever's left, okay? The survivors. The people who are still here. They need you."

"They need someone better than me."

"No," snaps Rayla, "they need you. A king who ends wars, not one who keeps fighting them. A king who wants his legacy to be a narrative of love. You're going to pull through this. You and the rest of Katolis. It's going to be okay."

"It's not now."

Rayla grimaces. "No. It's not now. But it will be, and you have to believe that. For them. Okay?"

There's another pause. Ez sobs into her shoulder, a child more than a king, and Rayla holds him tight, swallowing her own tears and heartbreak because it's not fair that he should have to deal with that too. She lets him cry for ages because he needs it, because the grief is too big and too heavy to bottle up, before, finally, he raises his arms and hugs her back.

"I heard you and Callum are okay now," he mumbles against her shirt at last.

Rayla almost laughs. "We were always going to be," she chuckles in spite of herself.

"Good," says Ez quietly. "I'm glad there's one thing in amongst all of this that's still intact."

[honeii-puff]

Minor fable

In which Soren feels like he's breaking @sorinethemastermind This is payback for putting the whump into fluffcember Listen to Minor Fable by Luis Berra for extra immersion

Soren was tired. That was the one thing he had been sure of for a long time. 

Nothing else had been solid enough recently, more like a raging river. But now it was still, and he still wasn’t sure what was what.

A lot of Katolis was still staying at the camp outside the Banther Lodge, and Callum and Ez were leaving tomorrow, but for now, they were all staying in New Lux Aurea.

Soren had a tent to himself, which seemed like the manor of tents. It was quite large, and tall enough for him to be able to stand up straight in without his head hitting the top. There was a cot, elevated off the ground, a small desk with a chair, and a tall mirror on the desk, leaning against the canvas of the wall.

I should probably check on my cuts. He thought. He could feel the dried blood crusting around the cut near his jaw and the one on the side of his nose. Either was likely to scar, but he wasn’t completely sure.

He walked up to the mirror, looking at his reflection. A bit of blood was clinging to his hair, which was easy enough to pick out. There was another small cut severing his eyebrow, which was less of a new cut and more of the split of an old one, from the fall of Katolis.

That one was definately going to scar.

Stupid rock.

His mind wandered, which was dangerous nowadays. He had a habit of wandering back to moments he shouldn’t be lingering on, and this time was no different.

“Take my heart.” He had said to Viren.

“Soren, I- You know I can’t do that.” Viren’s eyes were… afraid. 

Soren didn’t remember ever seeing him afraid until then.

“You have to do it. You’ve been fine with doing it my whole life, just do it!” His grip tightened on the relic staff. “Why can’t you do it when it matters?!”

Soren glanced back into the mirror, but didn’t see himself.

Instead, he saw Viren’s reflection staring back at him, in the same clothes he was wearing when he casted the Hearts of Cinder spell. His eyes were dark voids, with streams of red pouring down his face from them.

“Soren,” His voice was warped beyond recognition, barely recognizable. “You are me. You will always have my blood flowing through your veins, and nothing you can do can or will ever change that.” His face turned into a sneer. “I should’ve taken your heart when I had the cha-”

Soren’s fist collided with the mirror, splitting it into dozens and dozens of pieces. A sharp pain split through his hand as he staggered back. His blue eyes looked back at him in the broken pieces of mirror, split over and over and over again.

His hand throbbed profusely, and looking down at it, he watched rivers of blood spill from his knuckles. Small shards of glass stuck out from the tender skin, coated in the dark red.

He didn’t even notice that he was crying until he felt his tears land on his hand, causing the cuts to sting.

Soren sat on the cot, curling inward whilst still holding his left hand out, so as to not jostle the glass wedged into it. Hot tears streamed down his face, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the pain or from what he saw.

It might have been from both.

“Soren?” He heard a muffled voice from outside the tent.

Corvus.

“Yeah- uh, yeah come in.” He quickly wiped the tears off his face with the palm of his right hand. The last rays of daylight streamed into the tent as Corvus stepped in through the tent flap, and Soren could see his eyes darting around, taking in each bit of information that stuck out to him.

He also noticed his eyes go from the shattered mirror to his hand, still bleeding and dripping blood onto the ground.

Instead of asking the expected questions like What happened? and “Are you okay?”, he asked something else.

“Do you want help?”

Soren looked back at him, seeing the worried crease between his eyebrows before silently nodding. He didn’t trust his voice at the moment.

Corvus sat down silently beside him, removing his bag from his shoulder and opening it. Soren’s gaze followed him, watching him pull out a roll of gauze and tweezers before gently taking his hand.

He turned his head away before Corvus started pulling the glass out, biting his inner cheek hard enough that it bled, filling his mouth with the metallic taste of blood. He hadn’t said anything then, either.

Soren had counted about four pieces of glass before the pulling stopped. He had thought there was a lot more than that.

It had felt like it before the pulling, too.

He felt Corvus start to wrap his knuckles with the gauze after. Every touch was gentle, like a stream of water being poured over a blazing fire, calming the nerves in his hand.

Corvus always seemed to have that effect on him, somehow. Soren could never figure out how or why, though.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Corvus asked him, breaking the silence after he had tied off the gauze, wrapping around his wrist.

Soren shook his head, before leaning his head against Corvus’ shoulder. He didn’t even want to think about it, but the image of Viren looking back at him in the mirror, with a soulless void filling his eyes, was ingrained into his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, even for a moment, he saw it.

I should’ve taken your heart when I had the chance.

“Can you stay here tonight?” His voice was raw. He hated how the words made him sound like a child. But part of him knew he might not make it through the night if he was left alone.

Corvus nodded, and Soren felt him wrap an arm around his shoulders.

He felt like heated glass most of his life; bending and molding with everything that hit him. 

But the glass had cooled now. 

And he felt, if something else came swinging…

He’d shatter into a million pieces.

[numptypylon]

“Rayla is… not my lovebug.”

“Oh ho, now?" Nyx leaned obnoxiously close, her eyebrows raising. "Have you told her that?”

“She told me," Callum said, angry all over again suddenly that... she actually hadn't told him that and yet they weren't- "So I’m tentatively assuming that she knows.”

“Oh ho? So she broke up with you and yet you’re still adventuring together, risking your lives for each other, making love eyes at each other at every opportunity… ah, to be young and in love and a garbage fire of collective awkwardness of such radiance as to light up the heavens-”

“Yeah!” Ezran agreed, walking up to them. Oh no. Hopefully Nyx would tone down the… everything… around an 11-year-old, but… considering he had been 14 himself when he’d first encountered Nyx, he didn’t have high hopes. “It’s gross and they’re so dumb, and here I am, a doomed onlooker!"

“You got the family braincell, I see,” Nyx said, winking at Ezran.

Ezran nodded sagely. “My blessing and my curse, ‘tis true.”

Really?! Did Ez really have to form an alliance with every new person they met to tag-team roast him?!

Nyx turned away from Ezran, her unwanted attention firmly back on him now. “I still need the full status update on my favorite dysfunctional lovebugs!” Nyx would keep prodding, and Callum didn’t want her to prod Rayla- “You know there’s another ex-lovebug who could tell me-“ Did he just curse that idea into Nyx’s head?! “But you’re currently the less puke-smelling option, so…"

Nyx really didn't subscribe to the idea of sensitive subjects you should keep your trap shut about.

“We… broke up. Like you said.” One way to say it. But he wasn’t giving Nyx any ammunition to use against Rayla. “Then made up. Kind of. We’re friends, just not… lovebugs.”

“Friends with benefits?”

“What friends do you have?” Ezran asked, all wide-eyed, vicious innocence. “Do you not consider friendship a benefit?”

“Hey!” Nyx looked insulted. “I thought we were allies against yon magus of maladroit you tragically must call brother?”

“My allegiances are many and inscrutable!” Ez stuck his tongue out at Nyx.

“’Allegiances’? ’Inscrutable’? Sheesh, kid, how old are you? And what awful, terrible company do you keep?!”

“11. And… politicians.”

“Oh no, you’re serious?! Oh kid, the depths of my condolences is one of them yawning chasms of endless screaming-“

“Oi?!” Villads yelled. “Matey? Riggin’ snagged!”

“I don’t hold court with betrayers, anyway,” Nyx said, incredibly hypocritically for someone who’d stranded them in a desert, and she pushed off the deck and was airborne, heading off towards the center mast.

“What is the benefit of being ‘friends with benefits’?” Ezran asked, looking around to Callum and then Soren, who had just arrived with Hat perched on his head. “The friendship is pretty obviously a benefit of being friends without having to say it, so I know it isn’t that, I just said that because Nyx was being mean.”

“Oh, I know!” Soren said, eagerly. “It’s s-“

“Sandwiches!” Callum cut him off. “Sandwiches, Soren! Remember?”

“Riiiiight!” Soren winked, exaggeratedly. “Sandwiches. Got it. Corvus makes the best bread sandwich, extra mayonnaise-“

“Please, Soren,” Callum choked. “Please, let’s… talk about something else. Anything else. Please.”

———

Excerpt from an upcoming chapter of my S4-6 between-canon-episodes fic, Downtime’s Up (successor to my S1-3 between-canon-scenes fics Downtime in Wartime and Upside Downtime)

It’s wednesday and I have many wips I want to work on and no time, but I DO also have a lot of stuff written and not posted, so… hope you enjoyed some overgrown pigeon time and depraved sandwich innuendos. Once I get past the next 4 chapters of Downtime’s Up, I have most of the rest of the story written, just… it’s been rough going to write anything lately

[pedroshotwifey]

Prompt #36 with Dieter or Ezra? 👀

Hi, my friend! I'm sorry this took a hot minute, but I hope you'll be happy with the result!

Better

Pairing: Ezra x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Tags/warnings: extreme overstimulation, sub reader, use of toys, orgasm control, light bdsm, restraints, tears, piv sex, subspace/disorientation, Ezra being Ezra and saying Ezra things

Summary: You join Ezra on his unscheduled break, not knowing you're in for the ride of your lifetime

*****

“Ez?” 

You walk into your shared tent, confused as to why he’d suddenly abandoned you in the middle of your excursion. The two of you were almost ready to pack up anyway, but you thought the plan was to wait it out until the day was up. 

You come in to find him lounging on the bunk, spread out on his back with exhaustion. He’s breathing unnecessarily heavily, so much so that you would probably be worried if it was anyone other than Ezra. Sure, it’s hot outside, but not enough to entail that. So dramatic. 

“Ez, what the fuck are you doing?” 

His head snaps up this time, like he’s surprised to see you there. That’s when you notice that he has one hand down his pants. 

“Ez!” you gape. “Serously, what the fuck?”

“Sorry, little dove,” he pants, not caring to stop the jerking motions. “I thought I was strong enough to resist the temptation, but alas…” 

“Dude, we had like an hour left, you couldn’t have waited?” 

He just licks his lips in answer. “Well, now that you’re in here, you may as well strip and join me.” 

You sigh and plant your hands on your hips. He can be so damn unserious sometimes. He’s lucky he’s hot as hell despite everything else. 

“Fine,” you grumble and reach to unbutton your pants. You can’t really deny the way your panties started to grow wet the second you realized what he was up to. 

He watches you with a heavy gaze as you discard your clothes to the floor and walk toward him. He’s done the same, pulled all of his clothes off so that you’re both naked as he grabs you to lay you on the cot. You catch a peek of his stiff cock, already leaking and flushed from his playing. 

He immediately settles over you and flashes you a smirk as his hand trails down to cup your mound. You moan when he collects some of your slick and then starts to circle your clit, your arms coming up to wrap around him. 

“I know, flower. Feels good, doesn’t it?” 

You nod at him, burrowing your head in his chest as he works your clit. Your body begins to tremble and tense in anticipation, toes curling into the sheets below you. 

You claw at his back as you come, moaning as he works you through it. He doesn’t let up when you’re done though, instead inserting two fingers into your soaked cunt. You gasp at the feeling and clench around him.

He starts to pump, watching your face as it contorts with pleasure every time he hooks his fingers to find the spot that makes you crazy. 

“Does that feel good, sweet thing?” 

“Mhm,” you whine, trying your best to focus on the glide of his thick fingers and the way his thumb comes up to flick your swollen clit. You know it’s not going to be long before your second orgasm takes over. 

He suddenly starts to go faster, using his whole arm to finger you at a furious pace, his hand turning so that his palm slaps your clit with each bruising thrust. You gasp and clutch onto him, moans spilling freely from your lips. He starts to mix another movement in, too, shoving his hand up and down and side to side in addition to deep and fucking deeper.

His name is on your lips as you come, an explosion going through your body and making you go weak. Your thighs shake and your ears ring with the force of it all. He doesn’t even slow as you go through it, just whispers filthy praise into your ear as he pulls more and more until there’s a third orgasm meshing with the other two. He slips another finger in and uses his other hand to press on your abdomen. 

You’re practically screaming at this point, your body writing beneath him as it tries to escape the constant pressure he keeps on your cunt. It’s so overwhelming and you’re already so overstimulated. Your body is covered in sweat, as is his from his rough movement. 

“Take my fingers so good, little bird. Almost as good as you take my cock” 

You keen up to him, your back arching as you look into his eyes and plead for him to stop that way since your words aren’t going to work any time soon. He smiles faintly and takes pity on you, slowly retracting his fingers. A squelching sound comes from where he disconnects, an obscene amount of wetness seeping out of your cunt. 

“Look at her, she’s so hungry for it,” Ezra observes as he watches your hole clench. 

You just pant, feeling thoroughly exhausted already. But you know you’re not done yet. Ezra hasn’t come, and there’s no stopping until he does. You’re about to offer to suck him off to save your poor, throbbing pussy when he speaks again. 

“Go get one of your toys, little dove. Let’s make this even better.” 

You nod at him, sliding out from under his body in a haze. Despite being so over-sensitive already, you trust him to make it good for you. You walk to your trunk and pull it open, digging around for a moment until you get a grasp on your favorite wand. It’s battery powered and relatively strong. 

Ezra cranes his neck to see what you selected and smiles as you turn around with it. 

“Good choice, little dove. I like that one, too.” 

Then his face lights up in a way that makes you want to bury the vibrator back where you found it. His eyes darken as he reaches his hand out for the toy. Maybe it’s the way your brain has already turned to mush, but you still hand it to him and obey him as he helps you back down. 

“On your back and spread those pretty legs, little flower.”

You do so, but not without questioning him as he starts to dig through his own trunk. “Wha–” 

“Don’t worry, dove. Just lay there and look pretty for me.” 

You lay your head back down on the cot, figuring you might as well save your energy for whatever the hell he’s about to do. You know well enough that when he gets into these moods, there’s no changing his mind. 

But you quickly snap your head back up when you hear a tearing sound. 

“Ez?” 

He looks away from the roll of tape in his hands to see your confused face. 

“Yes, bird?” 

“W-What are you doing?” 

He just grins and walks back to you, ripping the tape further from the roll.

“Legs open,” he instructs, completely ignoring your question. Your eyes widen in realization as he kneels between them and brings your wand up to the inside of your thigh, the tip of it facing your soaked pussy. He pushes your legs open until they start to tremble again from the stretch. 

“Ez…” 

He ignores you again as he keeps the toy lined up and then starts to secure it with the tape. It’s close enough so that if you closed your legs even the slightest bit, the tip would be right on your clit. Your cunt throbs at the idea. And when he reaches up to tie your hands together and leave you defenseless, you let out a moan. 

“Dirty little thing,” Ezra chuckles. “Knew you’d like this.” 

He lowers himself back down and lets your legs lay comfortably without his hips holding them open, the ball of the vibrator resting against your clit. You shiver at the contact, goosebumps popping up in anticipation. 

He watches your face carefully as he reaches for it and presses a button to turn it on. Your entire body jolts at the constant pressure that immediately starts to hit your clit. You whine loudly, squirming and trying to get away from the harsh vibrations. 

“Ez!” you squeal. “‘S too much!” 

“Aw, I think you can take it, little gem. Look at your sweet cunt, already crying for more,” he coos at you, doing nothing to stop it. 

You shake your head wildly as your orgasm starts to build. It’s borderline painful, your body still wiggling and trying everything it can to escape, but you’re trapped. Every time you move your legs to get away, you just press down harder on your clit. You yelp and writhe, even knowing that you’re going to get nowhere that way. 

You’re coming in no time, screaming as the vibrator stays on through the whole thing. Ezra just chuckles to himself as you whine and shake, your brain turning to mush as your ears ring. Everything feels like too much right now. Not just the vibrations between your legs, but also the light coming from the single bulb in the tent, the way the sheets beneath you cling to your sweaty skin, the way the tape around your wrists feels a little too hot. 

You feel for a second like you might pass out, the toy still going even after your orgasm subsides. But then Ezra must turn it off because you’re suddenly coming back down to earth, your panting breaths loud in your own ears. Your entire body sags with relief. 

You barely even register it as Ezra takes his spot back between your thighs, keeping you open for him with his thick waist as he starts to feed his throbbing cock into your soaked cunt. He groans above you as he practically slips right in without any kind of resistance. You moan sharply, your hands fisting air above your head as you take him. 

“Such a good gem,” Ezra whispers to you once he’s fully seated. You can’t even say anything back at this point, far too wrung out to think coherently, much less actually speak. You just  lay there, letting him slowly start thrusting into you. 

You close your eyes, content to just let him find his end. And then you fucking scream again. Everything goes white and your body jolts as he slams hard into you and turns the toy back on at the same time. Tears immediately jump to your eyes as he picks up a brutal pace and holds your thigh at just the perfect spot for that stupid vibrator to have the biggest effect. 

You openly sob as you come again, completely taken by surprise this time. Ezra groans louder, gripping you hard as he pummels his cock into your g-spot. Your tears stream down your cheeks and down your neck, into your hairline, into your ears. 

“Sweet little cunt you have, birdy. Squeezing me so tight.” 

You try to call his name, but it just comes out garbled and pathetic. You’ve never felt this overstimulated in your life, like you’re unable to really comprehend it all. 

“I know, darling thing. You’ll be okay,” he assures you as he puts a hand up to smooth down your sweat-dampened hair.

Finally, his pace starts to stutter and his groans grow louder and more uncontrolled. You’re lost in another wave of painful pleasure when he spills deep inside of you, twitching and making you cry out. He thrusts shallowly, not worried about anything but drawing his own orgasm out. 

“There you go, take it all for me. Just like that.” He leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. 

He doesn’t wait long after until he turns the vibrator off again, and this time you really do find that you can’t open your eyes. You don’t think you’ve ever been this exhausted in your life. Your cunt throbs and aches, your head pounds, and your body feels like it was hit by a truck as it shakes and trembles, numb in some places. You’re disoriented, not entirely sure where you are or how you got there. 

You just know that you’re soaked all over and in desperate need of sleep. It comes easy with the help of Ezra’s hand petting your hair and his soft chuckle coming from somewhere around you. You don’t bother to try opening your eyes again, you know that he’ll take care of you as long as he’s around. 

*****

Look here if you would like to read more requested fics or request one of your own!

[raayllum]

Teasers Timeline

With the teasers we've gotten this week, I want to try and assemble them into some kind of timeline. Spoilers and speculation ahead!

First off, there's the ones we know are taking place during 6x01 Startouched thanks to con spoilers, such as shots of the prison with Callum, his nightmare featuring Aaravos, Rayllum on the castle battlements, group discussion, them departing for the Starscraper, and Ezran comforting Zym about Zubeia.

Claudia and Terry is also probably from 6x01 (maybe Claudia commiserating with a flashback if it's from later on in the season) due to the beach location and her having to take wet/bloody clothes off. We can even see that one pantleg is shorter than the other.

Now onto the rest, with episode titles as a slight guideline.

This shot with Corvus, Zym, and Soren is likely from 6x02 Love, War, and Mushrooms, given they went looking for Zubeia and Soren meets up with Corvus at the Sunfire camp.

I also wouldn't be surprised if the "Ezran at the castle" and Janaya is around here. If Viren is alive, he could be showing up in Katolis (or Claudia is there to find the fake prison) and Janaya is preparing for war now that Sol Regem has the sun seed. Likewise, this is one of two places I could see the screencap of the Viren and Kpp'Ar flashback being; Viren may be heading back to try to free Kpp'Ar (and may do so with the staf?? If Rayllum didn't take his coin) and thereby reflecting on their past.

Then we get Rayla and Callum on the burning ship in 6x03 Frozen Ship. There's less fire when they're first there together and Callum needs to get his staff back, and significantly more fire when Rayla is there on her own despite being near the same hole in the roof and Callum not being in frame anymore.

Then they head to the Starscraper (and potentially face the big scary dragon along the way, though that could be a trial for 6x05 as well).

Rayla's line about "The fate of the entire world is at stake," her expression, as well as Stella's (almost angry?) expression makes me think she's trying to reason with Callum > telling the celestial elves what's going on, but it really could be either.

Big dragon could also be the trial or thing they're flying off too as well, after the infamous Chin Touch (and possible smooch) given that the clouds from what may be their room seems to match what we see in the background.

If the dragon adventure with Luna Tenebris' unsuitable heir is on the way to the Starscraper, I'd guess it'll have something to do with the moonstone collar its wearing (perhaps an enchantment that cloaks the starscraper from outside viewers?). If it's after, then I have no clue WHY beyond the celestial elves going "you gotta".

At the same time, Karim and Janai are preparing for war. The search for Zubeia must've been either successful or they had to give up and switch gears, as Ezran has 1) left Katolis to be here and 2) reunited with Corvus and with Zym, only to be captured and need rescuing from his favourite dragon pal (Zym's covering them, but it also seems Ez and Corvus showed up on horses so.. parlay gone wrong?)

The amount of Sol Regem regalia on their outfits and Karim's tent makes me think he's already used the sun seed to heal / ally with Sol Regem, or that he's very very close to doing so.

I do think he ultimately goes through with it, though, given that the next time we see Sol Regem, his eyes aren't healed but his wings are 100% patched up and Pharos is seemingly riding him into battle, with Janai and Amaya leading their ground assault.

Amaya still has her crown, and Aanya might show up to help -- the cliffs match the ones she's landing on -- at Ezran's behest, but it's probably not enough.

If she loses but lives, that could be why we see her almost in mourning at the sun seed tree

And I think that's it for now! More speculation and teasers to follow soon I'm sure

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

and i don't even like you that much... wait, i do (fuck)

Speculative s7 fic by @sagegreenfrogs and I! Next up, Camp Counsellor AU!

Soren gave General-Queen Amaya her arm-punch much sooner than he'd thought. That was nice, but the cons outweighed the pros. The cons being that Katolis was in shambles and still burning, that after everything, Viren still managed to evade justice, and, oh yeah, Aaravos was out of his prison. That had been hard to miss.

Commander Gren had directed him to a tent near the hall where the wedding had been held, to where Ezran sat, talking in a low voice with Queen Aanya of Duren and Queen Janai.

The younger girl looked up when he entered quietly and bowed, placing a hand on Ez's back and nodding to Soren. “Why don't I go make arrangements for you to come to Duren with me?”

He reached out for her before seeming to remember himself, curling his fist around thin air. “But what about… What about my brother? What about Rayla, my people? The Crownguards, the castle staff?”

“I'll find a mage to send word to Prince Callum,” Janai promised, getting to her feet. “Your people are always more than welcome here.”

Aanya nodded in agreement. “The same will go for me. We can consolidate our powers, Duren and Katolis and New Aurea. We will find a way to defeat Aaravos, and we'll help you rebuild Katolis. There every step of the way.”

Ezran took a deep, shaky breath in, and soldiered to his own feet alongside Aanya. “Alright. Thank you two so much.”

Queen Janai squeezed his soldier gently. “Of course. We are not only allies, King Ezran, but family.”

The two queens took their leave, and Soren was left alone with a shuddery Ezran. He waved him over, wiping his hands on his bright red pants in the heat.

“Hey,” he said. “How bad is it, really?”

Soren averted his gaze. “It’s… bad, King Ezran. Really bad. The castle is in the ground, and so’s the town. But we got a lot of the citizens out, nearly all of them.”

He stayed quiet for a long moment, an uncomfortable one.

Soren stepped forward. “Listen, evacuating and abandoning the castle was my idea. No one else's. Get mad at me, but don't blame-”

Ezran cut him off with a tight hug. “Thank you,” he whispered. “That was a good choice. The right one. I'm so proud of you, Soren. I trust you.”

For once, it didn't feel like what Soren was being told was the right choice was an ulterior motive in disguise.

Soren held him back, wishing he didn't have to deliver the next news. But Ezran was his friend and the king, his king, and so he had to.

“Viren is dead,” he whispered, and Ez lurched back. “He used his heart for a spell to protect people, to make them fireproof.”

“The one from Lux Aurea? The Storm Spire?” Fear flashed in Ezran’s eyes, but not fear of him, fear for him. Because Ezran had known how desperately terrified of becoming a monster, especially at his father’s hands, that Soren was, and then had handed him all the tools to do it on a silver platter.

He nodded. “Yes.”

Ezran looked down. “Okay. Okay. It's not- it's not great, but we can work with it. At least he's not a threat anymore, right? Assuming he doesn't get resurrected for a third time.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t tend to stay gone,” Soren agreed, laughing in spite of everything. “But, King Ezran- it's- okay, I have one more piece of bad news for you.”

Ezran pulled away from the embrace to look up at him with apprehensively raised eyebrows. “What?”

He bit his lip.

“Soren.”

He looked away. “Aaravos is out. My sis- Claudia freed him.”

Ezran lurched away and spat out a string of words that Soren couldn't exactly say he approved of, but sure did accurately describe the situation.

He eased the younger boy down onto his chair, holding a glass of water to his lips as he struggled to breathe. “Hey, it's okay. Breathe in and out.”

Ezran shook his head, fisting his hand in the fabric over his heart and using the other to slam down on the table. “No. No, I’m fine. I have to be fine. Letters. I- I need to send letters, get help and tell Callum-”

“I already did that,” Soren assured him. Written on the ride over, handwriting wonkier than its usual wonkiness, but he’d gotten word out across the continent asking for aid.

Ezran gripped his sleeve and looked up at him gratefully. “Thanks.”

“Don’t even mention it. Now, why don’t we go get you some fresh air?” Soren offered a hand up.

Ezran ducked his head and took it, allowing him to adjust the gleaming crown around his head. Just once, Soren wished he could yank it off and let the boy be a kid. Not a king, not someone with the weight of the world on his young shoulders. Just a kid who hadn’t even gone through puberty yet.

“You’ve got this,” Soren assured him, because, well… there wasn’t much other choice, was there?

Ezran’s eyes saddened. He knew it, too.

Read more on ao3!

[drabbles-mc]

Plausible Deniability

OC Evangeline Reyes & EZ Reyes Franky Rogan x OC Evangeline Reyes

Part of the Not My Brothers' Keeper Universe

Warnings: 18+, language, angst/arguments

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: they're BAAAAAACK!!!! been marinating on this one for a while. a little angst for my children Evangeline and Franky 😌

The buzz and chatter of the farmer’s market made Santo Padre seem like it wasn’t such a small town. While a lot of the small vendors were close to each other in town, there was something unique about the mood of it all when they all had their booths and tents set up outside in the square. The typical food vendors always looked forward to the weekly rush—something extra to look forward to on Saturday mornings.

It wasn’t a far trip for Evangeline. If she hadn’t had so many different things to put up and display, she wouldn’t even bother loading everything into her car to get it there. But it would’ve been just a few too many relays back and forth for her liking. It was one of her favorite times of the week as well. She liked the extra sense of community, of course. But she also enjoyed the teenagers and twenty-somethings that showed up with their guitars to play music, their cases and hats out for tips. She liked how some of the food vendors would send one of their employees to run snacks and drinks to other vendors running their own booths who couldn’t necessarily leave. Along with all of that, it was a way for her to meet some new people outside of her regulars who came to the shop.

She was chatting with a woman as she cashed her out for the couple pairs of earrings she purchased. While a majority of her focus was on the woman in front of her, carefully placing the jewelry in their little boxes, she still saw the next person in need of her attention. The smile on her face was one that could, for the moment, be passed off as the typical customer service grin.

Evangeline handed the boxes over, along with a copy of her business card. “The address for my shop is on the back. But,” she gestured back over her shoulder with a chuckle, “if you walk a few blocks that way you’ll be able to find it without a GPS.”

The woman beamed as she tucked the business card into her purse. “I’ll have to stop by! Thank you so much.”

Evangeline nodded. “You’re welcome. Have a nice day!”

As the woman walked away, Evangeline tucked the receipt away so she could compile it with the rest later. The smile on her face grew and she shook her head slightly as she caught Franky out of the corner of her eye. He was no better at pretending to be paying attention to anything other than her than she was with him.

She was adding to the running tally in her notebook when she spoke up, not looking at him just yet. “I hope you know there’s no discount for the boys in beige here, Officer Rogan,” said before closing her small record-keeper.

The humor in her voice as much as the comment itself got Franky to drop the thin charade he’d been putting on. He let out a surprised laugh. “I don’t think I ever asked for one.”

“Mmm,” she hummed in question as she tilted her head. “Maybe not. But I also just get the feeling that you didn’t exactly have to pay full price for the pastries in that bag,” she said as she nodded towards the brown paper bag on it. She recognized the sticker on the outside of it immediately.

“Wh—this?” He held it up with a smile. “Nah, alright, I didn’t. Bu—”

“See?”

“But,” he reemphasized, “that’s not because I’m a cop.” He shrugged, a smirk on his face. “That’s just ‘cause Ms. Nelly thinks I’m cute.”

Evangeline laughed. “Of course.” She paused for a moment. “You’re not getting a discount for that here, either.”

“Damn,” he said with a laugh. “I was just tryna come over here and say hello. Offer you one of Ms. Nelly’s coyotas but if you’re gonna be like thaaaat…” he trailed off, dramatically taking a step back from her booth and holding his hands up in surrender, pastry bag clutched tightly in one of them.

Evangeline’s eyes widened, a grin breaking out across her face. Leaning forward, she rested her hands on the table to give herself some extra balance. “Wait, wait, I—”

He laughed and crossed his arms over his chest, bag partially hidden now. “Oh wow. That’s how it is.”

She was laughing but not saying anything to try and come to her own defense. It wasn’t going to do her any good. Not that she needed to—they both knew that when it was all said and done he would be handing over the bag so she could pick whatever looked the best to her.

“I tell Ms. Nelly how mean you’re being she won’t send me with extras for you anymore.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes. “Yes she will.”

Franky let the silence hang in the air for a moment longer before uncrossing his arms and holding the bag out to her.

Evangeline laughed, a sound that had the ends of Franky’s mouth curling up into a grin. She took the bag and unrolled the top so that she could look inside. It only took her a couple seconds to make her decision. Reaching in she deftly plucked one of the pastries out of the bag before handing it back to Franky. He’d hardly taken it out of her hands before she was taking a bite.

She shut her eyes for a moment, like she had never tasted something so good before. She finally looked back at Franky. “You didn’t tell me they were pineapple.”

He laughed. “Didn’t get to tell you anything since you started in on me once I got here.”

She smiled before taking another bite. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“’Course not.” He tried to sound annoyed but it was never good enough to be convincing with her. “You never do.”

“I think in your line of work they call that plausible deniability.”

“Or perjury.”

Her head fell back as she laughed. “I’m not under oath!”

“Oh,” he laughed, “alright. So it’s just lying, then.” He shook his head. “Watch Law and Order and suddenly you just know it all, don’t you?”

“You might as well deputize me.”

“Yeah,” he joked. “I’ll talk to the chief about that right away.” There was a brief pause, allowing each of them to laugh and gather themselves back up. Once the quiet between them had persisted for long enough, Franky cleared his throat. “Evangeline, you think—”

“Well, well, well,” Angel’s voice stopped Franky’s sentence short. “Look what we have here.” He looked at his sister from the opposite side of her table. “Eva.” He gave a non-plussed look to Franky. “Officer.”

“Angel,” they both replied in unison with drastically different tones. Franky’s was nothing but pure annoyance, meanwhile Evangeline couldn’t cover up the fact that while she knew that her brother was acting childish, she did find it to be the slightest bit amusing.

Evangeline looked at her brother. “What are you—” she tripped on her words for a moment when she saw that Angel was far from alone, almost the entire rest of the charter in tow, “all doing here?”

“What?” He almost sounded genuinely offended by the question. “We can’t just show up and support?”

She rolled her eyes. “You can. You usually don’t.”

“If you miss us that much, just—”

“Sorry, Miss,” Taza interjected himself with a smile. “Is this guy bothering you?”

She laughed as she nodded. “Always.” Leaning across the table, she pulled him into a quick if not slightly awkwardly positioned, hug. “You the reason they all came out today?”

“For the sake of not incriminating myself, I’m not going to answer that.”

Evangeline laughed before looking back over at Franky. She gestured to Taza. “See? He gets it.”

Franky didn’t speak up in response, but the tiny grin pulling at his lips said everything that Evangeline needed to know. Whatever remarks he normally would’ve had for her, he wasn’t going to be saying in front of Angel of all people—Franky caught enough flack from him about Evangeline as it was.

Evangeline let herself get pulled into a conversation with Taza about where some of the jewelry pieces on display were from. She knew for a fact that she had a couple pieces back at her shop that she’d set aside because she had a feeling that Taza would like them. If she’d known that he was going to show up, and bring the whole club with him, she would’ve made sure to pack them. She told him as much, but even so she could tell that there were a few pieces that were catching his eye.

She was watching him try on one of the leather bracelets when she heard EZ’s voice pop into the mix. Looking up, she gave him a smile and a wave as he made his way to the front of the pack so that he was by the table. At first, she didn’t give much thought to the fact that EZ had landed himself right next to Franky, but shortly after they exchanged a quick greeting, Evangeline watched EZ’s expression change as he turned to face Franky directly.

Evangeline immediately clocked the quizzical look on Franky’s face. He looked as unsure as she felt. They were standing close enough for her to hear EZ ask, “Got a minute?” as he nodded for them to step out of the thick of the crowd.

If Franky had any idea what EZ was about to be asking him about, he didn’t show it. He quickly muted the confusion on his face as he nodded. Even if he said no, he knew enough to know that it would only be delaying the inevitable. The club, the Reyes Brothers, they always found a way to corner people for their attention at one point or another.

She wasn’t trying very hard to hide the fact that she was watching the two of them interact, but even so, she wasn’t expecting Franky to turn and put his attention on her. Her eyes widened, trying to figure out if she should be bracing herself for something.

Leaning in, Franky placed the bag with the other pastry on top of the table. She chuckled and shook her head, gesturing for him to take it back. “I’m good, really.”

He flashed a quick smile as he shook his head. “It’s fine.” He took a step back as he started to leave with EZ. “Not like I paid for them anyway, right?” he added on with a chuckle.

Evangeline laughed, the action completely contrasting the way she was shaking her head at him in admonishment. Whatever she had to say in answer to that would have to wait. She watched out of the corner of her eye as the two of them managed to slip past the crowds that had formed between her booth and the one next to hers. They were standing far enough away to be out of the thick of it, for the sounds of the crowd to drown out whatever it was that they were discussing.

Her attention was torn between the conversation that was tucked away off to the side, and what was unfolding directly in front of her.  She was cashing Taza out as some more new customers started to mill about. She didn’t recognize them despite the fact that it was a small town, but none of them seemed to be deterred by all of the men in kuttes lingering around. It probably didn’t hurt that Angel, Coco, and Gilly had gone and gotten snacks of their own from the vendors—it was hard to be intimidated by men who were trying to smack donuts and pastries out of each other’s hands and laughing the entire time they were doing it.

The small rush of people subsided after a couple minutes—that’s the way that it tended to go at things like this. When it slowed down again, she looked around to see if she could find EZ and Franky. The club was a little more spread out now, but the general crowd wasn’t too much smaller. For a moment she thought that she had lost the two of them. Then EZ popped right back up again in front of her table.

Evangeline knew that she was wearing her questions on her face, but she still managed to start the conversation with a casual enough, “Hey.”

She’d barely seen EZ since the night of the party. She certainly hadn’t seen him for a long enough, or private enough, stint of time to ask him about everything that had happened that night with Happy. She kept waiting for him to stop by, or to call, but he never did. It wasn’t particularly out of character for him—none of the Reyes men had a great track record for having difficult conversations, for communicating in general. But every now and then she plucked up the energy to get her hopes up. One of these days they wouldn’t fall short.

“Franky leave?” she asked when EZ didn’t seem like he was going to be moving the conversation along.

EZ nodded, pretending to be much more interested than he really was in the rings that she had on display. “Yeah.”

Even if he’d been looking at her, Evangeline still would’ve rolled her eyes at him. “What was that all about?”

He shrugged, finally looking up at her, gripping the edges of his kutte as he did so. “Nothing.”

She frowned disbelievingly as she nodded. “Right. Sure.”

His brows came together just a bit, like he was fighting the urge to let his face tighten up in annoyance. “Don’t worry about it—it’s club shit.”

She laughed but still managed to keep her voice low. “Right. Franky, Santo Padre’s Finest, is gonna help you with ‘club shit’. Okay.”

EZ sighed at the sarcasm. “Yeah, ‘cause Santo Padre’s Finest have such a good track record.”

Her jaw clenched, face hardening immediately at the statement. It wasn’t that she had any love to spare for their local police force in general, but this was Franky. And that was exactly what she told him. “It’s Franky, Ezekiel. You expect me to believe—”

“Believe what you want. I’m not getting into this here.”

She scoffed. “What else is new?” She watched as EZ drew in a breath deep enough to let her know that he had plenty to say about it all. However, before he could start in on her, an older woman made her way to the table, asking if Evangeline had any other purses with her other than the ones on display. She forced herself back into her customer service persona, leaving the disgruntled sibling routine off to the side for now. “Sí,” she said with a smile and a nod. “Dame un momento.”

She crouched down to grab the few bags she had underneath the table, and by the time she was standing upright again, EZ was gone. She didn’t let the frustration show on her face as she answered the other questions that the woman had. By the time that Evangeline had finished helping her and the few other customers who trickled in after her, the rest of the club had seemed to vanish too, leaving Evangeline there to let out a deep sigh that no one else was close enough to hear.

It was much later than Evangeline had bargained for when she finally bothered to check the time at the end of the day. The fact that it was dark out, the only light streaming through her storefront windows coming from the lamps outside, should’ve been enough of a clue. When she went the extra step to look at the clock on her phone, she immediately regretted it. It hadn’t taken that long to break everything down once the market was over—she was done and able to leave at a reasonable time. But once she sat down at the sewing machine, she lost all track of time. And now it was dark out, and her stomach was growling in a way that made her glad she was in the shop alone.

Propping her elbows on the table she was sitting at, she allowed her head to drop into her hands. Her eyes shut for a moment, trying to push the questions and frustrations from the day back out of her mind again. Maybe that was why it was so easy to stay caught up in her work—something else to focus on. She passed her fingers through her hair as she finally looked up again. It wasn’t until she pushed her chair back away from the table that she saw a car pulling in front of her shop, taking up space on an otherwise empty block.

Having Angel and Ezekiel for brothers meant that she could spot the shape of police car headlights anywhere. She wished that she was more enthused, knowing that there was really only one officer who would be stopping by after-hours like this. If the start of the day had gone a little differently, her smile would’ve come a little easier as the bells above the door chimed.

“Think you’re open past curfew,” Franky joked lightly as the door swung shut behind him.

She laughed, a quiet sound compared to their laughter and banter earlier in the day. She made her way towards him. “What, you going to arrest me?”

He could hear it in her voice that she was trying to meet him where he was. He could also hear that she couldn’t quite do that. “You good?”

She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m alright.” She saw that he was about to try and repeat his question, get another answer out of her. Before he could she said, “You good?”

His concern shifted to confusion. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

She nodded towards the door, a vague gesture to the big wide world outside her shop. “Saw that you took off after you talked to EZ.”

His expression faltered for a moment. “Oh. That, that was nothing.”

“Nothing?” she parroted back, clearly not buying it.

He tried to go for nonchalance, but he never got the hang of it around her. “Yeah, you know how it goes. Club shit they’re always trying to drag me into.”

She gave a slow nod. “Friend of the club now, Officer Rogan?”

He wished that he could take all of his words back, but it was too late. He was just going to have to keep digging this hole until he came out the other side of it. “It’s not like that.”

She was too tired to try and pull answers out of him. “Okay.”

It felt like a trap, not that she had ever really been the type to set them. Franky felt like it was wrong to just let the topic die out at that, leave it unfinished in the most unsatisfactory manner, but he also didn’t want to pick a fight with her about it either. He could tell her the truth, but if EZ hadn’t told her, there was probably a reason. That’s what he was going to tell himself anyway.

“It’s always gonna be something with them, Evangeline. You know that.”

Her gaze snapped up from the floor so that she was looking at his face again. Her exhaustion hardened into something colder. A chill that felt frigid coming off someone who made a habit of exuding nothing but warmth.

The look in her eyes had Franky taking a small step backwards before he even realized what he was doing. Whether he was subconsciously trying to make a quick getaway, or put a beat of space between them for whatever she was gearing up to say next, he wasn’t sure. The only thing he was sure about was the fact that he would love to go the rest of his life without ever being the reason she looked like that again.

“Whatever it is, Franky, I hope it’s worth going down for if it gets to that.”

He shook his head, suppressing the scoff he felt climbing up his throat. “It’s not gonna—”

“I hope not. I’d imagine Aiding and Abetting charges look worse when you’re a cop.”

She studied him carefully as he shook his head at her. It wasn’t a fair fight, really, and she knew that. She knew that Franky wasn’t willing to go blow for blow with her. He might’ve been the only man in her life who wouldn’t—too many people loved an argument. He wouldn’t fight back, and if everything came crashing down she knew that it wouldn’t actually be all his fault. But he was the one who was in front of her now.

She gnawed at the inside of her lip for a moment. “I have no interest in deja vu.”

Franky’s expression turned somber as he processed what she’d said to him. They never talked about it, what had happened the night EZ got arrested for killing that cop. There was too much to deal with at the time, and when it’d been dealt with, neither of them knew what to say to the other about it. So it’d been lying in wait like a sleeping dog all those years.

“It’s not like that.” He wasn’t sure if that was the truth of the matter, but he desperately hoped that it was. Just like the woman standing in front of him, Franky had no interest in taking a trip down memory lane if that was going to be the memory.

She wanted to believe him but she knew better. “If you say so.”

“Eva—”

“I think you’re right—it’s way past curfew.” Her voice was quiet but firm.

He took in a slow, deep breath. He didn’t want the conversation to end there, end on such a sour note. He couldn’t remember the last time an exchange between them had ended like that—there was always some layer of levity that they were walking away with. There was something in her eyes that was telling him he was going to have to accept that this battle was one he’d lost.

It might not be ending the way he wanted, but he could at least end it on a bearable note. “You okay getting home?”

She tried to let her lips curl into something like a smile, but it didn’t quite work. Still, she shook her head as she went to grab her purse and her keys from behind the counter. “I don’t need an escort, Officer. If that’s what you’re asking.”

His eyes were full of sympathy. “It’s just been a long day.”

She walked by him, motioning for him to follow her as she started to shut off all the lights in her shop. “They’re all long days.” She could feel him staring at her as they stepped out onto the sidewalk. Her back was to him as she locked the entrance to her shop. She gave herself an extra second before turning to face him again—she wished that the regret wasn’t so evident in his features. “I know it’s not good, whatever it is. So, just…” she shrugged helplessly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“I—”

“Get home safe, Franky,” she said, resting her hand on the outside of his arm for a moment before turning and walking down the block towards her car.

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[sp00kymulderr]

embers

Pairing: Ezra x afab reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: 18+, pwp, fingering (f receiving), ezra being ezra, a lot of sweat, reader is nicknamed stardust but no gendered language as far as I am aware, this was originally written with a plus size reader in mind and there is one description of body type (soft stomach) but nothing major beyond that

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: It's too hot to sleep. Ezra helps you with your frustration, but only makes things hotter.

A/N: comments and reblogs forever appreciated! To follow for fic updates only go to @sp00kyupdates​ or see taglist details on my masterlist. Credit to gif maker.

It’s hot. Too hot. The kind of sticky hot that fills the air and makes it hard to breath, no cool breeze of comfort as it melts the brain until you can’t think straight.

It sticks to your body. The heat causing discomforting damp across you, in the places where flesh meets flesh. You groan and turn from your side to your back, looking up at the mildewy roof of the tent you’re trying to sleep in.

“Shouldn’t have taken this stupid fuckin’ job” you mutter to yourself quietly, aware of Ezra somehow sleeping beside you.

Ezra; you’re partner in prospecting and crime and a variety of other unsavoury activities. Right now you’re too aware of him and his warm body. He’s always too close but you’d never usually complain. Except for right now when you want nothing more than to kick him out of the tent completely so you can spread your limbs wide and try not to feel so damn sticky.

You move again with a huff, turning your pancake-thin pillow over to the cooler side. It barely helps. You can feel the sweat gather between your breasts and your thighs and on your back. The only thing you can think to thank Kevva for is that you’d at least come to a planet with a breathable atmosphere, because if you’d had to wear your suit all day too you’d have lost your mind days ago.

“Something the matter, stardust?” Ezra asks, voice thick with sleep. Guilt pangs when you realise you woke him with all your movement, but he just gazes at you sleepily with a half-amused smile as his eyes flutter closed then open again adjusting to the low flickering glow of the lamplight.

“Just hot” you sigh turning on your side again to face him, body thrumming with restlessness and a jolt of other when his deep brown eyes flicker down to the loose, thin top that’s pulled up enough to reveal the curve of your body from waist to hip, your soft stomach, and the small shorts riding up the tops of your thighs.

He suddenly seems much more awake.

“Well I certainly won’t disagree with you on that” he practically purrs and chuckles when you roll your eyes.

“Shut up, Ez” you retort slightly more stern than you had intended to sound and he raises an eyebrow at your annoyed tone.

“Sorry” you murmur after.

He smirks at you but doesn’t respond, his eyes darting back down your body then to your lips with very clear intent. You look back at him. He’s shirtless with a pair of shorts slung low on his hips and you always love to see that despite the hard life of drifting he is still soft and comfortable, getting by with just enough food to never be gaunt. The scars from decades of dangerous living are visible on his golden skin which is sheened with sweat. The starlight blonde patch of hair sticks to his forehead.

Perhaps he is another thing to thank the goddess for.

Like magnets drawn together you both shift a little closer, even the heat of his body not able to deter you as your eyes meet again.

He reaches out a hand and gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb making contact with your cheek with a sweet caress. With a barely audible sigh he leans closer and offers his lips to you. You’ve never denied him a kiss, you aren’t going to start now but you do hesitate.

“I’m gross” you mutter against his lips when his hand pushes up the flimsy top and skims the underside of your breast, knowing the moisture of sweat clings there.

“You’re radiant” he responds.

You roll your eyes again.

“It’s sweat”

“Stardust, what exactly makes you conclude I would ever care about that?” He whispers, voice low. “It’s you. That’s all that matters”

He leans in to you more then, his hand gently grasping a breast, thumb swiping over your sensitive nipple as your body reacts to him all on its own. His words make you warmer but this time you don’t curse the heat. Your conscious of how prevalent your perspiration is but the way in which Ezra simply doesn’t care gives you cause to give in too.

“Relax now, I’ll make you forget all about the torridity” He says.

He’s intent to make you stop thinking as he leans towards you and kisses you harder. His tongue welcomely intrudes your mouth and his hand pursues new territory as he drags it down your curves and around to the front of your shorts.

“Ezra..” you whine, bewildered by how you can be so desperate to have him closer now when just moments ago your wanted him far away. His palm presses against you at the apex of your legs and then you feel his fingers slip up the leg of your loose shorts. He huffs out a happy grunt as he finds you slick there from more than the heat.

"You..." He kisses you again, even less restrained than before "...are wanting of this more than you let on, stardust" He groans as his fingers slip up the seam of your cunt, finding their way to your sensitive bundle of nerves as he makes you gasp for it.

Your body is heating up to impossible lengths and you imagine what a state you must look like; dewy skinned and exasperated from lack of sleep and a new desperation for him. Your hair is stuck to your skin, the damp beneath your breasts and between your thighs increases. It's maddening but Ezra is looking at you like you are some unearthly delight that he has happened upon in his own garden of eden. He could never make you feel anything less than desired even when you feel anything less than desirable. It's a talent of his, really.

That quick tongue of his is occupied now with other things, the delicious drag of it from your lips, down your jaw and then your neck. He groans against your skin, his fingers working their way from clit to your entrance so he can gather your slick on them. He pushes one in, and you already feel like you could forget more than just the heat, you could forget where you are entirely if he keeps going.

You whimper and he smiles so delightedly.

He’s soon moving his head to a place further down, sucking in a nipple over the fabric of your shirt. He takes you completely off guard as he pushes in another finger, toying with you when he knows exactly what to do to make you forget your own name.

"I'm all...all...You don't have to...it's not…" you stutter not even a full sentence.

"Take off your shirt" Is all he responds with. No preamble, no flowery wording. A simple instruction.

"I…" You hesitate because you really are so sticky hot and some prevalent part of your brain is still stuck on that undesirability you feel.

"Do it"

You do. The little top comes off in a moment, giving Ezra access to your breasts with that wicked tongue of his. He swipes your pebbled nipples, once on each, with it and then sucks one in to his mouth, using his teeth to ever so gently pull.

Meanwhile those talented fingers do their own work. In...deep, deep, crooking at the place that makes your stomach clench in pleasure. Back out, just a little, playing with you because he knows how much he can make your mind blank if he just makes it a little more difficult for you.

"Teasing me..." You whisper, your own hands playing in his damp hair, grabbing slightly. He knows you know what he's doing to you.

"Making you forget. Making your think about nothing else. Let me" He smirks. He is a devilish man, you decide, and you are glad he is the devil of your own heart and no one elses.

"Mmmh, I- Yeah. You can do that..." You sigh. Finally feeling his thumb barely touch your clit as his fingers work inside of you to bring on something that will make you cry out his name for all the planet to hear.

"Would you like more?"

"Don't you...dare stop"

He laughs, that delightful laugh of his that you fell in love with.

The heat and his hand make you feel kind of like you're in a dream, dizzy with all of the things you feel inside and out. You love him like this, love him to be so intense, so incredibly devious in making you feel exactly the thing he wants you to feel.

"Come kiss me" You whimper and he grins like the cat that got the cream, knowing he has you.

Ezra does exactly as you want kissing your lips once, twice before pulling away. You can taste the sweat on his skin and it only drives you more in to want. You're starting to understand his way of thinking; why should you care about anything but the two of you and what your bodies can do? Perpiration or no, he feels good and makes you feel good.

His fingers work magically in you until your getting breathy and close to the inevitable edge. He's hard against your hip but when you reach to help him with that he pushes your hand away.

"Not now"

"Feels- oh, feels so right" is about all you can give him as he slips another finger in and stretches you so deliciously. You want it again and again and again and he gives it to you as his fingers hook and rub deep inside, and you start to cry desperately for him to never, ever stop “Ez...”

“Shh, stardust. Let it take you, let me help you” He groans feeling your wetness gush around his fingers. His thumb rubs your clit in faster little circles and you arch.

You come in a frenzy of blooming heat, a pleasure that makes you push against him as if begging for even more. Your skin is glistening now not just from the torridity of this unforgiving climate but from the pure fire in your body. How can he make you feel like this every time? It is so unreasonable that he has this power, but it is so right.

Ezra licks a swipe between the valley of your breasts, and then up to your neck where he kisses you gently as you slowly catch your breath. Your eyes are heavy, sleep already taking you in to its arms as you lay your head down and pull him up for a slow, lazy kiss that keeps the fire flickering just a moment longer.

“Mm. Ez” is about all you manage for that moment, fingers playing again in the damp hair at the nape of his neck until your eyes are closing.

“Sleep, my lucent love. You’re welcome” Ezra chuckles letting you fall back as he lays on his side watching you.

You’re asleep in moments, sticky hot but satisfied enough to not be able to think about it any more.

You’ll certainly thank him in the morning.

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌. 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐄𝐳𝐫𝐚

pairing: joel miller x f!reader x ezra (prospect)

genre: smut, filth filth filth, minors dni

word count: 2.9k

summary: Joel’s frustrations run deep; to him you were a twisted source of purity, touching you forced him to think, forced him to feel. But not Ezra, with him he could do anything. A scary, yet also exhilarating feeling. Or alternatively: You wake up to Joel and Ezra having sex

warnings: mlm, anal sex, handjob (from reader to ezra), consensual somnophilia, joel being emotionally unavailable but what's new, polyamorous relationship, anal fingering, spit as lube (pls do not try this at home use lube if you have it), mild choking, ez having a praise kink, a bit of feels at the end

a/n: Okay so I feel like some explanations are due-- This oneshot going to be part of the Dark Hearted People series that isn't out yet. (here's a short little drabble i wrote about it if you wanna see) It's coming, and outlines are being made but I got this horny oneshot idea and wanted nothing more than to write it. All the context that you need is given within the fic, but all I'm trying to say more is to come. Way more.

Also, I would like to thank @pedrito-friskito as always who read through this and cheered me on. And a thank you to @write-and-buried who allowed me to scream at her about this and screamed back at me. Love you both 💜💜💜

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It’s a silent night. 

The darkness enveloped him like a cloak, suffocating and heavy. The silence was deafening, a piercing screech that seemed to slice through his very being. He could hear nothing but the faint rustling of the trees, a constant reminder of the desolate wilderness that surrounded him. Joel straightens his back, a crack echoing in the silence. He can hear snores coming from inside the tent. His fingers twitch impatiently against the rifle he holds. An itch, a burning sensation, crawled up his neck, a physical manifestation of his unease.

You’re a silent sleeper. That much he knows. It’s Ezra who’s the loud one. It’s the same when he’s awake, not granting Joel a minute of peace. 

They’ve been on the road for a while now. The tracks of the group they were following disappearing more and more into the wind every passing day. He’s on the everlasting road of questioning what the hell he’s doing here. With these people. You, he can rationalize. He’s known you since Boston. You were reliable, had a joke or two in you that made him crack a smile. 

But the other one? Meeting him was nothing other than a fluke. A mishap. One blind step. That’s all it took for Ezra to sink his tendrils into them both. 

His eyes dart to his watch, a reflexive action. The heaviness that weighs over him is immediate. He doesn't even need to look to tell the time so he hates that he still does. Every time he looks, he hopes that it would have fixed itself miraculously. 

The state of the sky, the position of the stars, all tell him what he already knows. It's Ezra's turn to keep watch. Joel still isn’t sure why you trust Ezra the way that you do—hell, he’s not even sure why you trust him. 

Joel’s knees protest as he stands up, the rifle dangling from his shoulder. 

The inside of the tent is warm, both yours and Ezra’s scent filling the small space. Your sweetness mixes with his earthiness and iron. Joel shouldn’t be able to tell the difference. His heart shouldn’t start beating faster the more he breathes in. His tongue touches his bottom lip, something warm and heavy rolls in his stomach.

He’s halfway inside when his movements still, eyes dropping to Ezra who’s sleeping closer to the entrance. He’s sleeping in a fetal position, knees nearly touching his chest with his hands tucked underneath his head. Ezra’s soft snores are more audible inside. Joel can see the way his chest rises and falls. For a fleeting moment, Joel's mind plays tricks on him and he imagines that moonlight pours from above, illuminating Ezra's sleeping form in a soft glow. 

But there’s not. 

Joel steps inside, the flap fluttering closed behind him. He falls to his knees, watching. The back of Ezra’s shirt is rolled up, showcasing the dimples of his lower back. Even with only a patch of skin, Joel can see the scars. It’s easy to forget that the other man is actually a couple years younger than him.

He’s supposed to wake Ezra up but finds himself nestling closer instead. Joel lays down on his side, softly placing his arm on top of the other’s waist. That’s the only contact he allows himself. His scent is stronger at this distance. His arm raises with Ezra’s body every time he breathes in. Then out. Again, in… and out. A pleasant repeat of motion. 

What you said to him before the night echoes in his mind. You’re not even giving him a chance, you’d said with your hands cradling his face. It’s been a confusing month. The three of you entangled in each other both emotionally and physically. 

During all of those times, Joel never touched Ezra with love. He’d touched him with need, anger, grief. Never love. He just couldn’t. Ezra never said anything. He allowed Joel to take him rough, fuck him deep. The sounds the other made indicated to Joel that he enjoyed it, his moans stifled yet loud. 

The skin above his stomach grows tight, tingling. He feels a devastating tug at his own loins, a pressing reminder of what he needs. His cock twitches, wanting to be buried in that heat once more. Joel’s frustrations run deep; to him you were a twisted source of purity, touching you forced him to think, forced him to feel. But not Ezra, with him he could do anything. A scary, yet also exhilarating feeling. 

Joel cheats his hand under Ezra’s shirt. He traces the pads of his fingers up his abdomen, feeling every puckered scar that decorates his tanned skin. The other man shudders against him, instinctively pushing back to him until there’s no room to breathe. Joel hisses between clenched teeth. He drags his fingers over a nipple, traces the other, and continues to move up. Ezra’s chest heaves, pulse-quickening under Joel’s touch. 

He’s positive that Ezra’s awake now. But that doesn’t stop him from curling calloused fingers around the other man’s throat, squeezing, a warning to stay quiet. Without looking he knows Ezra’s smiling. He hates that crooked smile, the soft hints of amusement he gets in his eyes. 

The image is so vivid that Joel squeezes harder. Ezra’s ass presses firm against him, his cock throbs, hips stuttering forward. 

“Restless night?” Ezra asks, voice heavy with sleep. 

“Just need you to take me,” he grunts, grinding himself into the other. “Don’t talk, I don’t wanna wake her up,” 

“I’ll try but I make no promises. If she rouses from sleep that’s on you,” 

Joel’s hand slides up from Ezra’s throat to his mouth, silencing him. His lips feel soft against the roughness of his palm. His eyes move to you briefly, you’re still sleeping, your back turned. He drags his nose down the column of Ezra’s neck, taking deep breaths, he slips his other hand down Ezra’s sweatpants. Noticing how hard the other is already, he scoffs. Ezra was probably awake since Joel let himself inside. 

Joel’s strokes are rough and hard. The friction makes Ezra tremble, nostrils flaring, moans seeping into the heat of Joel’s palm. He swipes his thumb over the slit, making Ezra jolt. 

“Fuckin’ stay still,” he growls into the other’s skin. Ezra can only nod, shaking as Joel continues to drag his hand over the thick length. Ezra thrusts into his fist, teeth nipping the inside of the hand that covers his mouth. 

His own arousal hard and aching between his legs, Joel pulls back his hand and spits on his fingers. Ezra’s breath hitches at the wet sound, which makes Joel’s cock drip, precome smearing into the fabric of his boxers. One hand still above Ezra’s mouth, he grips the other’s waist and pins Ezra against him, rolling his hips again and again. 

Taking the hint, Ezra pushes down his sweatpants with shaky hands, kicking them down so they bunch around his ankles. With two wet fingers, Joel traces the rim of his quivering hole. He slips them inside, a tight fit, a bit dry. He pulls them out and spits again, Ezra’s groans vibrate against Joel’s skin. Sinking his fingers again, Joel moves them with shallow thrusts. 

“Fuck, so damn tight,” Joel rasps. Ezra’s whimpers become louder, his eyes nervously fixated on your sleeping figure. “You ready to take me?” 

Joel doesn’t wait for an answer and pulls out his fingers, but Ezra nods anyway. They both know what this is. They both know why Joel asks that. He asks it every time. A weak attempt to peel himself away from feeling any kind of remorse for using someone else for his own relief. 

Ezra doesn’t seem to care though. With a curled spine he grinds himself and feels Joel’s shaft, precome sticks to his skin, the movements wetting the other’s cock. His own length aches painfully, heavy between his legs. Ezra watches you, eyes falling to your ass. He wants to grab a fistful of the tender flesh, pull you close, and fuck you as Joel buries his grief into him—

You start to stir, making both men freeze. The fat head of Joel’s cock is notched at his entrance, throbbing as Ezra’s insides threaten to swallow him whole. Joel’s fingers bite into Ezra’s cheeks. Both of them watch you with wide eyes, heads swimming in half arousal and half anxiety. You slowly turn and tuck your hands under your head, closed eyes facing Ezra’s wide ones. 

Joel snaps his hips forward, sinking into the other man’s heat completely. An unwilling groan vibrates in his throat and he stifles it by biting the inside of his cheek. Joel, with his hand firm over Ezra’s mouth, pumps in quick, deep strokes until he feels his legs start to shake. He swears Ezra is trying to suffocate him, suck him dry with how tight he is. The other flutters around him, clenching and releasing his cock as he tries to desperately accommodate his size. 

Tears gather in Ezra’s eyes, he blinks them away, and breathes heavily from his nose. Joel is not a small man by any means, clenching on the thickness. He stretches him wide, the pain mixes with the pleasure, a harmonizing symphony that short-circuits his brain. Joel pushes and pulls, guiding Ezra at his pace. Your sleeping face is blurred to him, the corner of his vision fading to black like a vignette. Joel’s hand slides down to Ezra’s chest, fingers spreading over his heated skin. 

Ezra’s mouth drops open to a gape almost immediately, heavy pants, and silent moans growing loud. Joel’s pacing is fast, cock hitting deep as he rocks his hips forward. He drags his lips down to Ezra’s shoulder, biting into his skin. His sprawled fingers close over Ezra’s nipple, giving it a sharp pinch that makes him hiss. 

Joel’s eyes are glued to you, your eyelids starting to flutter. But he can’t possibly care when the lust fills the cracks of his soul, a faux sense of peace makes his heart swell. He doesn’t care that Ezra’s moans become louder, he doesn’t care when the other wraps his fingers around his cock and starts to despertly fist himself. 

Joel only focuses on himself, his aching cock and need. His skin grows taut over his muscles, movements becoming strained and uncoordinated. He drills into him, balls tight with his fingers imprinting on the other’s skin. 

“S-Shit— Joel,” Ezra gasps, brows pinched together and eyes rolling back. “H-Harder—” 

They both know you are bound to wake up soon.

You feel warmth between your legs. Your dreams coat your skin with a heat that makes it tingle. You hear moans, wet sounds echoing in the tent. You swipe your tongue over your bottom lip. The inside of your mouth is like sandpaper. Is it morning already? 

Your eyes flutter open and Ezra’s face slowly comes into view. He’s groaning and you think it’s because he’s in pain, but when your vision clears up you see reality as it is. 

Your face burns when you see his expression in its full glory; mouth wide open, eyes glazed over with pleasure, brows furrowed as he rocks back and forth. First, you think he’s touching himself, but then there’s a flash in the dark, Joel catching your eyes over Ezra’s shoulder, staring directly at you. There’s something ravenous in his eyes, something that you can only describe as animalistic. He thrusts into Ezra hard when he catches your gaze, knocking the air out from Ezra’s lungs and making him moan right into your face. 

It’s a wanton sound. A choked-out voice that goes straight to your cunt, arousal pools between the plush of your thighs, you’re already wet. Neither of them seems bothered by you. In fact, they seem to be stirred on by it. Joel holds your gaze, only fucking into Ezra harder. The younger man’s eyes are squeezed tight, his cock bobs heavy and dark between his thighs. 

Your pussy pounds between your legs. Your gaze drops to Ezra’s length. It looks delectable. The head a warm flush of red, precum glistening at the tip, begging to be touched. A whine pulls you away from the sight, and you see that Ezra’s eyes are now open—barely, that is. You can see tears filling his lashline, dark eyes observing you between narrowed lids. 

“Little bird,” he moans, wets his lips, and swallows. “Touch me, please,” 

Your eyes move to Joel, he’s not staring at you anymore. With every thrust, you feel Ezra jolt. The urge to touch yourself rather than Ezra is much greater as Joel begins to pepper the other man’s skin with open-mouthed kisses, you see a bit of tongue poking between chapped lips. You’re not sure why, but you feel jealous almost. Joel’s lips are a form of blessing, something he did as a reward, be it done consciously or not.

With little hesitation, you wrap your fingers around Ezra’s shaft. The man’s head falls back, his hips stuttering in an almost manic way. Coming closer, you close your lips around his trembling adam’s apple, kissing a path that goes all the way to his parted lips. You slip a tongue. Groaning into his mouth, you swipe your palm over the head and smear precome down his length. Every time Joel rocks into him, he buries himself further into your fist. 

It’s so intimate seeing Ezra like this. Pleasure is good on everyone, and to be witnessing it in its full glory makes you want to string him along the edge as long as you can. Sweat coats his face and you feel a tremor in his thighs. He’s completely powerless. You suck on his tongue, lick yourself into his mouth, and nip at his bottom lip. The sounds he makes are unfiltered, debouched. 

You stroke him faster, harder. Wet noises echo from your palm, a sticky mess between your bodies. You’re breathing jaggedly into eachother’s mouths, you squeeze the base of his cock and he gasps. 

“Are you gonna come for us?” you ask into his mouth, a heavy drop of precum slides down your knuckles, making you smile. “Such a good man,” 

Ezra’s reaction to your words is visceral. With a newfound eagerness, he molds his lips into yours, again and again, he sucks the air from your lungs. You press your legs together, hips rocking in a weak attempt for friction. 

Suddenly Ezra’s entire body seizes and he parts from you with a sharp gasp. You don’t need to look to see but you do so anyway. His cock throbs and twitches in your palm, he spills over your fingers, come seeping into the fabric of your shirt. You continue to stroke his oversensitive shaft, your gaze finding Joel’s. 

Joel fucks himself deeper into Ezra, pushing all three of you closer together. You lean towards him, and he licks the seam of your lips before indulging in you fully. Ezra continues to sway back and forth with Joel’s thrusts, you continue to glide your hand over his cock, short pants, and hisses falling from Ezra’s lips. 

Joel’s hips stutter, spilling into the younger man as he flicks his tongue over yours, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth. You let out a sharp hiss when he sinks his teeth, he doesn’t draw blood but the sensitive flesh throbs like he has. Joel feels the warm drip of his own release trickling down, the sensation making him thrust deeper.

You’re aching for them both. A hunger crackling over your skin and warming your neck. Joel doesn’t pull out, soft growls trembles in his chest, hands moving down and squeezing Ezra’s hip. The latter is on the verge of blacking out, his breathing uneven, eyes glossed over. 

Bur despite it all, Ezra manages to move closer to you. He nuzzles your chest, teeth tiredly nipping the swell of your breasts. 

“That was quite the way to wake up,” you murmur, your need to comfort Ezra pushing you to cord your fingers within his short hair, damp with sweat. 

Neither of them answer. Ezra smiles into your skin while Joel averts his gaze, finally pulling out and uncaringly cleaning the mess he made with the first thing he found. 

The minutes later Ezra pulls himself together, leaving the tent with wobbly legs and exhaustion in his eyes. Joel shows his true colors then, pulling you close and laying his chin over your head. He cups your ass with both hands, kneading the muscle. 

“Do you want me to?” he asks, guiding your hips into a sloppy roll. He’s still soft. 

You shake your head, “No. I just want us to rest,” 

Joel nods but continues to touch you. You didn’t lie. The thing the most of you need is rest—but you allow him to do as he pleases. You say nothing when he pushes a hand beneath the band of your panties, sliding two fingers up the wet seam of your slit. A satisfied sight leaves your lips. 

Joel has a habit of thinking he’s unreadable, but over the months you can say that you know him fairly well. What he can take from Ezra, he can’t from you. You know that. Ezra knows that. Joel is the only one who isn’t aware just how abundantly you two know him. Not that it matters. 

You just want him to let go. Allow himself to feel without remorse. 

A dream that will probably never come true.