#ezra is called pretty so many times and I am here for that thank you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imaginationofomi · 2 months ago

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Come Together

Fifteen

Stop, and take a breath.

Nayeli had to remind herself to do that quite a few times. Every minute was attached to a job of some sort, leaving her with very little to herself when she was already low as it was. The result was closing down shop on a Saturday, the first in all her time being open. Thanks to a boost in her sales, she could afford it.

After morning yoga, she went into work mode despite not being there. She deep cleaned her home, made a batch of marshmallows that were curing in her refrigerator and two batches of cookies, one of which was Ezra's favorite.

She couldn't wait to see him. Absence did make the heart grow fonder, and too many days had passed since she felt those strong hands on her body. As luck would have it, they would be spending the afternoon together, but there were a few more hours keeping them apart.

"Coming!" Nayeli answered the doorbell, walking quickly to let her mother inside. A welcome sight for her eyes. Average height and shapely, thick black hair and cocoa skin, round eyes and nose, everything she didn't get from her dad's side came from the woman in front of her. She smiled and gave her a big hug, "Hi Mommy."

"Hi my sweet baby." Bonnie kissed her head and rubbed her back, "You should call me more often."

"I should, I'm sorry. Everything has been so busy. I feel like I barely have time to sit."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good thing. Do you want something to drink?"

"You have your famous lemonade in the refrigerator?"

"I do." Nayeli roamed into the kitchen, pulling out two clean glasses and filling them with ice and lemonade. Bonnie was comfortable on the couch when she made it back to the living room.

"What's got you running around so much?"

"Regular life. I'm still volunteering and work has really picked up. I can barely keep up with the demand. Doing majority of the baking myself isn't going to cut it anymore. I need help but I feel that the desserts will taste different if someone else makes them. Am I wrong for that?"

"You do have a special touch, but they're your recipes. You have it in their contracts that your employees are not allowed to share your information, right?"

"Yes."

"Good. Get some help in there, and take a well deserved rest. You are always doing things for other people, wearing yourself out because you want to save the world. Do some things for yourself sometimes."

"I am." Looking at the time on the cable box, Nayeli began to count down the minutes until it was time for her to go. 128 and moving.

"What's that smile for?" Bonnie asked, chuckling at the splitting cheeks in front of her. The last time she saw her youngest smile that wide was the day she won her baking competition.

"I met someone very special," Nayeli said, finally comfortable enough to talk about moving forward.

"Oooooooh....I know. Your sister snitched you out last week. I was just waiting for you to tell me."

"Is there anything left to tell?" Smile gone, she rolled her eyes and wished she never introduced him to Maxine, the big mouthed sister that hated when her own business was out in the streets.

"She spared the details, but she mentioned he's famous?"

"Uuuuuhhh yeah, I guess you could say that. He tries to stay out of the way, but he's been approached a few times when I've been out with him."

"What does he do?"

"Cruiserweight boxing champion of the world. Retired. He's done some modeling. He has two gyms here, three in LA, and he designs watches."

"Well damn. Is there anything wrong with him?"

Nayeli often felt the same way, but there were a few ticks she noticed that reminded her that he wasn't perfect, "We had a little issue with boundaries, but we worked that out pretty quick."

"Issue?"

"He has a daughter, and I just felt like we needed to have rules. I'm obviously not her parent, and I don't want it to seem like I'm taking over. He didn't see the point, but like I said, we worked it out."

"A daughter?" Bonnie questioned carefully, scratching behind her ear and sipping her beverage.

"She's adorable, Mom."

"What's the situation with her mother?" Because there always was one.

"That woman hated me from the moment she saw me, and that was long before Ezra and I were involved." Nayeli had successfully put the incident behind her, but another would come without a doubt. It was the price she would pay for being with him.

"How long have they been broken up?"

"Years. Since Tati was two or three, I believe, and she's seven now."

"What's the custody situation like?"

"Ezra has her 99 percent of the time."

"Interesting. You don't hear that too often."

"You don't, but in this instance, I do think it's best." He'd said a lot without really saying much, and witnessing the misfortune on a day that should've been grand made her want to steer clear.

"Because of what he told you?"

"Yes, and because of what I've seen and experienced. She tried to put her hands on me."

"I'm sorry, she did what!?" Bonnie sat up straight and set her cup on the coffee table, forgetting about a coaster and triggering Nayeli's neat freak side.

"It was this big thing at Tati's birthday party," Nayeli said, preventing the condensation from the glass from staining the wood with a baked clay square.

"What were you doing at the birthday party?"

"I was catering. Mommy, I know it looks bad, but honestly, everything was innocent in the beginning."

"Don't sound like it to me. Why did she try to put her hands on you?"

"She felt threatened by my presence, so she told me to leave, and I tried before she even said anything. Both Ezra and Tati asked me to stay, so I stayed. She didn't like that and confronted me. I had to let her know what was what."

"Messy, messy, messy."

"It wasn't my fault."

"I didn't say that it was. I blame this Ezra fellow. He needs to put his foot down and get that heffa together." Bonnie didn't like the idea of her baby being involved in that kind of drama, but it was clear that Nayeli's heart was set, so the least the man could do was look out for her.

"He did. That's why she was pissed. She came at me sideways the second I walked up. She didn't even know we were catering and tried the whole "you can't be here. it's a private party" crap. He warned her not to mess with me, and I had a target on my back the rest of the day."

"But everything was innocent." Bonnie pursed her lips and shook her head.

"On my end it was."

"Oh, Baby Love." Scooting closer, she wrapped her arms around Nayeli and rocked her from side to side, laughing to herself, "Only you, Honey. Only you. It sounds like you're in pretty deep already."

"I am....."

"When do I get to meet him?"

"Soon. He's met Dad already, but it was a fluke."

"A fluke?"

"Ezra went to church with me, and Dad had the twins with him."

"You met your brothers?"

"I did."

"And that witch?"

"She wasn't there."

"See, this is why you need to call me more. All this stuff happened, and the only thing I knew is that you were seeing a man."

"When I run it all back, the last couple months have been pretty hectic," Nayeli sighed, checking the clock to make sure her counting wasn't off.

"I can tell. What's next, you're going to tell me you're pregnant?"

She choked on her lemonade, coughing several times and clearing her throat, "No! We're not there yet. We're really not even dating."

"Don't lie to yourself. You might not have the logistics worked out, but you're definitely dating. Are you happy?"

"Extremely."

"Then I'm happy for you. I want to meet him sooner rather than later." Bonnie needed to see what was so great about the man. Maxine said a whole lot of nothing but made it clear that both parties were stupid over each other. She had questions and wanted answers.

"I'll talk to him about it when I see him later," Nayeli said.

"Where are you guys going?"

"He's having a get together at his house, taking advantage of the good weather before that storm rolls in." A warm 82 brought out the swimsuits and barbecue. The odd weather for November would only stay for a few more days before the temperature dropped and they got a significant amount of rain.

"Do you think he's going to be nervous about meeting me?"

"I don't know if anything makes him nervous. He's so.....I don't even know the right word to describe him. I've met his entire family with the exception of a couple of people."

"When did you have time to meet the whole family?"

"At Tati's birthday. They thought I was his girlfriend, and his sister kind of ambushed me. Next thing I know, I'm in front of his parents, brother, aunts, uncle and cousins."

"Don't tell me nothing else. It gets worse every time you open your mouth. Just let me know when I can meet him." Bonnie dismissed her with a flick of her wrist. She heard enough.

"No lecture?"

"You're an adult. You have your own house, your own business, your own life. The days of me telling you how to handle things are over. If you need advice, I'm happy to help, but I'm not gonna ride you about anything even if I don't agree. You're smart enough to make decisions for yourself."

"I just expected more resistance. Leti gave me the blues," Nayeli sighed and leaned back into the couch.

"Leti likes to be in control, and with all she has going on, telling you what to do is probably the only sense of control she can feel."

"She needs to find another outlet. I am not her child."

"You might as well be. She used to help me with you when she could barely help herself. It's out of love."

"I don't doubt that at all, but like you said, I'm an adult. I expect you to give me a hard time, not her."

"You'll miss it once she moves."

"Yeah, maybe."

☼☼☼

Ezra enjoyed standing in the sun. Summer was his favorite time of year because he loved the heat, so he welcomed the short stint of warm weather. His backyard began to fill with people, friends arriving with their children and various snacks, but the person he wanted to see most hadn't made it to his side of town.

He itched to get his hands on her, to kiss her again. The first time caught him by surprise, but that shock awakened something feral inside of him. He was hungry for her, and if he didn't get a taste soon, he was afraid he'd lose his mind. He needed his Shortcake.

Nayeli dominated every thought in his head. When he had work to focus on, somehow it all became connected, and he'd wonder what she was doing. One day he wondered so much that he dropped in to see her. She was swamped and couldn't spare more than three minutes, but every second was worth it.

As he pulled a covered container of marinated steaks out of the refrigerator, his phone dinged on the counter, an alert that someone was at his gate. He opened the app and grinned, tapping the option to let her in and abandoning the meat on the counter to meet her at the door. He felt like a kid waiting for a surprise, damn near bouncing on the balls of his feet until she hit the corner and came up the walkway.

She had on a teal monokini, one shouldered with multiple cutouts and the material being held together in the front by two silver rings near her shoulder and on the left side of her thin waist. A matching sarong covered her hips and one of her legs. Walking down the steps, he met her at the statue and went straight for her lips. He grabbed her waist and lifted her in the air, wrapping his arms tightly around her as he smothered her sweet mouth.

It felt like breathing clean oxygen for the first time after years of nothing but pollution, like the first day of beautiful weather after a long frost. He felt renewed, reenergized, a little lightheaded and completely at her mercy.

"Mmm. You got away from me the first time. You can't do that again," he said, giving her a moment to breathe before he dove back in. He almost went after her when she ran, but she was definitely quicker than she looked. She wouldn't be able to run away a second time.

"But it was so fun," she replied with a smirk, rubbing her lipgloss from his mouth and trying to stretch her feet back down to the floor. He kept her suspended in the air, eyes on her lips as he waited for another opportunity to be connected.

"This is better."

"It is, but-"

"No buts." They might as well have been one entity. How he managed to pick up the large tote bag she dropped and carry her inside without crashing, Nayeli had no idea, but the music playing in the backyard and light sounds of laughter made her head come down from the clouds.

"You have guests, and there are children present," she reminded him, sneaking in another kiss of her own.

"So?"

"So let's not give them all a free show, especially because we haven't talked about this or to Tati yet." As much as Ezra appreciated her dedication to being respectful and mature, he wanted her to stop being so responsible, just for a minute.

"Aren't you the one that said she doesn't need to know everything?"

"Yeah, but you don't think she's going to have questions if she sees us kissing?"

"You're telling me I gotta keep my hands off you today." he said, obviously annoyed.

"Just tone it down in front of everyone else." Nayeli wasn't confident that she would be able to keep herself under control, either, but they had to try.

"Fine. I get one more though."

"Make it count."

He did. Lifting her into the air once again, he pressed her back to the wall next to them and tried not to groan when he felt her thighs grip his abdomen. Tongues tangled, pushed and prodded, and he pressed closer, caressing her skin and gripping her fleshy hip. It wasn't enough. Her scent was overpowering, wrapping him in sugar that he could taste and longed for more of. He was sure her pussy was just as sweet as her mouth, if not sweeter.

"DADDY CAN I HAVE A CAPRISUN?" Tatiana's voice effectively doused them both in ice water, and they scrambled to separate as they heard her feet running in their direction. Several seconds difference, and they would've been caught red-handed, "Nayeli!" she said excitedly and sprinted straight to her.

"Oof, hi Princess." Her pink and yellow butterfly swimsuit wet the front of Nayeli's sarong.

"Why are you guys all the way in here?"

"We were talking," Ezra said, grabbing Nayeli's hand as they all walked toward the kitchen and one of the back exits.

"About what?"

"Nosy children that get sent away to boarding school."

"You love me too much to send me away."

"She has a point," Nayeli giggled and let go of Ezra's hand to remove the cookies and marshmallows from her tote bag. Setting them on the island in the kitchen, she checked the marshmallows to make sure they hadn't melted and started to stick to the inside of the plastic container. Through the open glass panel, she could see several people and a few kids sitting around or in the pool, "Who all is here?" she asked after Tati had her drink and was back to running outside.

"Angelo and Morgan pulled up about five minutes before you did. My homeboy, Q, is here with his kids. Stephen and his girlfriend are on their way. Brock left to get ice and alcohol, but his wife and kids are here."

"Why do I feel like this is meet the family part two?"

"It might be."

"Save me," she whined and pouted, grateful that she knew at least two people.

"You have a friend."

"I bet you did that on purpose." It was like he provided a buffer just incase she got overwhelmed, but her good feelings quickly turned into rattled nerves when she came to a realization that hadn't crossed her mind at any point prior, "Does Morgan know I'm here?" she asked in a slight panic.

"I didn't make an announcement."

"Okay, that's fine. It's fine." She just had to be prepared to potentially get cussed out.

"What's the problem?"

"No problem." Except that Morgan was unaware of the latest developments.....unless someone told her. Nayeli smiled through her panic and hoped her friend wouldn't give her the third degree. Stepping into the function with Ezra at her hip, she hated feeling like a spectacle as all the attention shifted to them.

He introduced her to the people that she didn't know, and she shook hands and exchanged pleasantries until she got to her friends. Morgan hopped up to hug her, thankful that she, too, had a familiar face to interact with that wasn't her husband.

"Hey boo! I didn't expect to see you here. When EJ said we were meeting his wi...you know what, nevermind. I'm happy to see you." Morgan stopped herself from saying too much, locking their elbows together and leading her to the bar on the other side of the lagoon shaped pool.

"He said what?"

"Nothing, I had a brain fart. You need to tell me why I had no idea you guys even knew each other, let alone that you're together," she said and softly pinched Nayeli's arm.

"That has not yet been a conversation, but I wasn't exactly shouting it from the rooftops at anyone."

"Why? Are you ashamed of him?"

"There's nothing to be ashamed of. When I met him, I was still attached, so we were just cool. I didn't think I needed to share."

Morgan squinted her eyes at her friend, "You're in his home, meeting his friends, and y'all walked out like Barack and Michelle. At what point do you feel it would have been appropriate enough to share?"

"I don't know. The only person I voluntarily told was my mom, and she already knew. Everyone else just kind of found out about him."

"Everyone else? Who else knows?"

"April, my parents, my sisters, my grandmother." Nayeli almost revealed that Angelo was in the know, but she didn't want to start an argument between them about keeping secrets.

"April knows? Why that hoe know before me?"

"We ran into him while we were out for drinks, but I had to tell her either way because he needed help with a real estate search."

The information made Morgan's head spin, "Okay, you're going to explain everything to me in detail later, but I should warn you. Renée is going to flip her shit when she finds out."

"I totally forgot.....she knows, too."

"Uh, you know they went out once, right?"

"Yeah, they both told me. I figured that's why she was only half ass replying to my texts." Nayeli should've guessed that Renée didn't actually mean it when she said she was good. She didn't know what would become of their friendship, but she knew for a fact that she wouldn't let it deter her. Nevertheless, a bit of guilt gnawed away at her stomach when she thought about the one and two word responses she kept getting.

"And why she had an attitude the last time I saw her. She probably thinks you stole her man." Morgan found it funny because how could Nayeli steal something Renée never actually had?

"I didn't even know they knew each other until we were all in the same room."

"I'm teasing. That man don't like her and never did. Angelo cussed me smooth out for that one." In all actuality, she always thought Nayeli and EJ would be perfect for each other, but at the time, Jalen was in the picture, and Morgan wasn't in the business of wrecking homes. She was glad that they found each other on their own. It spoke to God working miracles for those that deserved them.

"Why was she convinced the day went so well?" Nayeli asked, confused because she'd gotten two opposite explanations of what went down. Perception was everything, but she didn't understand the stark contrasts.

"Because EJ is really polite, and she's delusional."

"That's not nice," she chuckled behind her hand.

"It's true, though, and I'm related to her, so I can say that," Morgan shrugged and picked a spiked Simply Lemonade from one of the refrigerators behind the bar, "Raspberry or blueberry?"

"Blueberry. I'm surprised she didn't tell you."

"If I was in her shoes, I would've taken it all to the grave. She was high-key pressed behind him, and you snatched him without even trying. Good job, by the way. I'm proud of you for getting back out there."

"Thanks. At least she's not shit talking me." Nayeli tapped her can to Morgan's and took a drink.

"I wish she would. I'd pop her ass in the mouth. It's not your fault he doesn't like her."

"Ugh, I'm so glad you're here."

"Me too."

"And thank God the hard part is over." Families were out of the way with the exception of one person. She could rest and not have to wonder whether she was liked or not. Everyone had been exceedingly nice to her. Well, almost everyone.

"So you've met his baby momma," Morgan said. She'd never come in direct contact with the woman, but she'd heard enough of EJ and Angelo talking to know she had issues. Sadly, Angelo had been in a similarly toxic situation with his ex-girlfriend. Morgan didn't mind being a bonus mom, but she couldn't stand women that were vindictive because a man didn't want them anymore. Angelo's ex was so vindictive that when he took her to court for joint custody of his son because she tried her damned hardest to keep them apart, it came out that he wasn't the biological father at all. It was tough for them to accept as a couple, and they were still trying to navigate that loss. She hoped her friend would have better luck.

"Unfortunately."

"She hates you?"

"Absolutely." In reality, Nayeli didn't feel like hate was a strong enough term. Maybe loathe, abhor, or detest would be a better description.

"Say the word, and we ride at dawn." Because Morgan would be damned if the tramp tried to jump the sweetest person to ever walk the planet.

Deciding against being antisocial simply because they knew each other, they sat with the other women and discussed the latest season of Married at First Glance. The success to failure ratio should've made people long since stop giving the show a try, but season after season, single hopefuls put it out there for the world to watch them traumatize and humiliate themselves. Every now and then, a solid couple would come around to make it worth the watch.

The kids stayed in the water, splashing each other and competing to see who could do the best cannon ball. Colorful floating tubes and inflatables made it look more festive and provided a challenge of who could jump through one perfectly.

Mid-conversation, Ezra nabbed the spot next to Nayeli on her lounger near the fire pit. He'd done well with letting her be thus far. She interacted and seemed at ease when he went back and forth between the men and the grill.

"You made it over an hour. I'm shocked," she teased, eyes fluttering shut when he kissed her cheek.

"Longest hour of my life."

"Oh, I doubt that."

"Not longer than we've been waiting to eat," Morgan joked and tapped her watch-less wrist, "You didn't invite us over to starve, did you?"

"The burgers are done. Some of the steaks need more time because y'all like your meat to die twice, and the ribs are resting."

"Just because you want your shit still mooing on the plate doesn't mean we do," Stephen's girlfriend, Kia, said.

"Not mooing," Nayeli cackled and finished her drink. Like everyone else, she was hungry, and a burger was a good way to start off. Ezra followed her to the self serve table, holding onto the back of her sarong with two fingers.

"I got something in the oven for you," he said as she put barbecue sauce on a bun and loaded the top with lettuce and pickles. Completing her cheeseburger, she licked some sauce from her thumb.

"Really or is that a ploy to get me inside?"

"Really."

Just them in an empty kitchen, electricity crackled between their bodies. She could almost hear it, and she definitely felt it. She forgot he told her there was something in the oven, so when he stood in front of her with a pan of hot waffle fries, she looked down in confusion and smiled.

"Awww, you remembered. Thank you." They were her favorite variation of fries, and they must've just been for her because there wasn't enough for everyone outside. As soon as she had some on her plate, he put them right back in the oven.

Her lunch was delicious, and she was careful to pace herself so she didn't catch the itis. Falling asleep at a party was a serious foul. She talked to Morgan and got to know Kia who was a hoot. The olive skinned beauty took nothing seriously. Brock's wife, Isabel, was more on the reserved side. She chimed in every so often but kept her focus mainly on her three children, scolding them in Spanish when they got too rowdy.

Time moved, and before Nayeli knew it, a couple of hours passed her by. She baked quietly in the sun while the men caused a ruckus playing dominoes and basked in the serenity. She was having an excellent day around the other couples and their families. Q appeared to be the only single one, but he had a wife deep in her second trimester of pregnancy that didn't want to be bothered with anybody and opted out of coming.

"You look relaxed." Opening her eyes, Nayeli blocked the sun with one hand and looked at Ezra standing over her. The way he gazed at her said everything his words didn't, and she felt her corner of the yard get hotter. He lifted her legs and sat down, laying them over his thighs as he stroked her calves.

"This is nice. Thank you for inviting me," she said and sat up to trail her fingers down his bicep. He caught her hand in his and brought it to his lips as she rested her face against his shirt and let out a content sigh.

"You can be here whenever you want." He kissed her head repeatedly, wishing he could just go in for the kill but being resigned to keep it light. If there weren't so many people around, she would be more comfortable and open, "Let's go inside for a minute," he suggested, tugging her closer until she was damn near in his lap.

"Don't you think that might be a little obvious?"

"No one is paying attention to us. Please?" He poked his lips out.

"You're cute when you beg," she laughed and stroked his face, glancing down at his lips to make her decision, "Alright, you can escort me to the restroom." Locking their fingers together, he started to tug her along.

"Nayeli, come get in the pool!" Tatiana called out to her, floating in the shallow end on an inflatable crocodile.

"I will when I come back," Nayeli promised, tapping the beach ball that rolled her way with her foot. The air conditioning inside cooled her body temperature, but it rose quickly once Ezra had her out of sight and on a couch, his hands roaming all over her skin. They tugged at each other, trying to get closer until his phone chimed twice and they had to separate so he could check it. Nayeli watched his face lose a bit of color.

"Shit," he cursed and sent her into a small panic.

"What's wrong?"

"Savannah's at the gate."

Shit was right. That was not a good addition to their otherwise perfect afternoon. Nayeli moved her legs and settled onto another cushion, chewing the corner of her swollen lips, "I'm guessing this is not a scheduled day for her."

"No, it's not."

"Are you going to let her in?"

"No."

"She's probably here to see Tati."

"She was supposed to pick her up last weekend after the soccer game. She didn't even show up for that. I don't want any drama. We're having a good day," he said, eyebrows creasing as he huffed in frustration. Nayeli grabbed his hand and rubbed it to keep him calm.

"What do you want to do? I can disappear for a bit."

"I'm not letting her in."

"That's going to cause a problem." A bigger one, if she was being real, because there would be one regardless. Savannah showed herself to be the type to fight if she didn't get her way, and the look on Ezra's face made it clear that she wouldn't be, that day or any other.

"If she walks in here and sees you, that is going to be a problem." He didn't care about pissing Savannah off. He just didn't want her to drag Nayeli into some mess and end up needing to call the cops.

"Which is why I said I can disappear."

"You were invited. She wasn't," he argued because he didn't have the patience to calmly deal with the mother of his child.

"Let her in. She's either gonna sit outside or blow your phone up until you do." There were already plenty of angry texts popping up on his screen back to back. He didn't bother to read any of them, but he kissed Nayeli one more time, a way to anchor himself to a civilized demeanor before he got up.

"Don't engage," he told her.

"I won't, but don't think I'm going to let her punk me." She didn't allow it the first time, so he doubted anything would change that time around. He waited for her to go into the yard, quietly observing her removing her sarong and walking to the steps at the shallow end of the pool.

Her swimsuit accentuated her shape wonderfully, every dip, curve and dimple on display, his to play with. He wanted to join her in the water, to cool off just before he would heat things up again, but his phone made so much noise that any fantasy forming in his head evaporated. He took one last look at Nayeli, smiled at her hitting the beach ball back and forth with Tatiana and turned to head to the front.

The sounds of the party faded behind him. He passed everyone's parked cars, walking down the long driveway to the gate. Savannah stood on the other side next to her car, angrily typed out yet another message and lifted her phone to call before she saw him heading in her direction.

"Finally. Why haven't you answered me? I've been out here for almost twenty minutes."

"You know better than to show up unannounced," he said, his voice level, "We talked about that on Tatiana's birthday."

Savannah rolled her eyes and waved him off, "I want to see my daughter."

"Your time to pick her up passed. You don't get to drop in when you feel like it."

"I had something to do."

"What was more important than spending time with Tati?"

"That's my business. You're really not going to open the gate?" she asked and pulled her car door open to get back in and drive forward.

"Why should I? So you can stay for five minutes, take a few pictures to post and then leave?" The routine was consistently the same, and he didn't want her there if she wasn't actually going be a parent, which involved a lot more than tapping a few buttons on a phone.

"Ezra-"

"Don't call me that," he corrected her, trying to see what he saw in her all those years ago. Whatever it was, it was long gone, but she hadn't much changed in all the time he'd known her. She'd always been selfish and self-centered. His younger mind just enjoyed the push and pull they went through. The chaos made him feel important back then. He'd grown up while Savannah was stuck in her ways. Tatiana was the only good to come from their union, and the sooner he could get Savannah out of the picture, the better.

"Why, because your little girlfriend will get mad?" She slammed the door shut and advanced toward him, getting as close as she could without touching the electrified metal.

"You're barking up the wrong tree."

"And you still haven't opened the gate." Nor did he make any moves to do so. His phone sat snug in his pocket, and he thought about leaving her right where she was. He could tell that her anger was building. If she walked in with her chest puffed out, it would be a battle because Nayeli wouldn't go down without a fight. Savannah waited for him with her arms crossed, but he still didn't move. She thought he would give her a hard time, but she didn't account for him refusing to let her in. That was someone else's doing, and she knew exactly who it was, "That bitch is here, isn't she?" She knew she hit a nerve when he glared at her.

"Watch your fucking mouth. You got one-sided beef with somebody that respects you, and I really don't know why she does. You don't deserve it. She said to let you in here, and your fucked up ass attitude is gonna be the reason why I don't."

"I don't give a fuck what she said! Why would you let somebody that threatened me around our daughter?"

"You tried to put your hands on her. She should've whooped your ass." But he was glad that didn't happen. If he could keep Nayeli out of trouble, he'd be good.

"You've only known her one minute, and you're already taking her side over mine! We have a child together!"

"A child you barely see! You don't get to pull that card when you choose to be a social media parent. It's not like you're working. You're chasing the next nigga around the world. I'm with Tatiana every single day. She hardly knows you," he snapped, growing tired of having to point that out. Savannah kept thinking she could do what she wanted. She needed a wakeup call, and he was prepared to deliver it.

"Open the damn gate, EJ."

"No."

"Just let me take her out for ice cream," she started to plead, realizing that she was losing the fight. If she could garner a little bit of sympathy, she could turn things around.

"You're assuming she wants to go with you," Ezra replied.

"Why wouldn't she? I'm her mother."

That was all he needed to hear. Tatiana recently expressed how upset she was with Savannah. His daughter decided she'd been disappointed enough. Savannah hearing that from Tati's mouth would hopefully make her understand what a piece of shit she was, "I'll let you ask, and you can find out for yourself." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened the gate, walking back up the driveway with Savannah rolling behind him. He stood on the top step and blocked her from going in the house after she parked, "Stay here."

"I know you're not about to make me wait on the porch like a stranger," she said in disbelief.

"You are a stranger. Stay here."

His party was still going, the backyard live with happy people totally unaware of the drama stewing at the front of the house. Nayeli was in the middle of the pool with Tatiana on her shoulders, playing chicken with Isabel and her son, Landon. Their wet hair said they all took turns losing. If he wasn't sure that Savannah would try her best to get in the house, he would've left her on the porch until she got tired of waiting and left.

"Tati!" he said, cupping his hands around his mouth to make his voice louder from the door. When she looked at him, he motioned for her to come over to him. Nayeli let her down safely, and Tatiana swam to the steps, dripping water on the brown stones as she walked over to him, "Your mom's here to see you."

"I don't wanna see her. She didn't come to my soccer game like she said."

"I know, but she wants to take you to get ice cream to make up for it."

"I don't wanna go with her. I'm having fun, and I wanna get back in the pool."

"In a minute." He didn't think it would take much more time than that. Tatiana could speak up for herself. It upset him that she reached her breaking point. She was a child, yet she felt the effects of neglect despite him providing her with every comfort. She knew Savannah's behavior wasn't normal, and it hurt her feelings, which hurt him even more.

He grabbed a towel and let Tatiana dry off so she wouldn't track water into the house, walking behind her to the front door where they could see Savannah standing impatiently on the other side.

"Hi Lovebug," she said with a smile, crouching down to hug Tati who just stood there.

"Why did you come?"

"I wanted to see you."

"You were supposed to see me at my soccer game, but you didn't. I made a goal and you missed it," Tati said and walked backward to be closer to her father.

"I'm sorry. I had some business to take care of, but I'm gonna take you to get ice cream, and you can tell me all about it."

"We have ice cream here. Daddy, can I get back in the pool now?"

"Your mom wants to spend time with you."

"No, she doesn't. She wants to take pictures for her friends."

"That's not true," Savannah argued, chest burning because her daughter was beginning to look at her the same way EJ did, with disdain, and she couldn't handle it.

"Yes it is. We never do anything fun. You just make me take pictures, and I don't like it."

"I won't take any this time, I promise."

"You promise me stuff a lot, but you don't keep your promises so I don't believe you."

"Tatiana, you're not being reasonable. I have things to do. I can't be here all the time."

"Lots of people have things to do. Daddy goes to work. My friends at school have mommies that do things, but they still pick them up from school and go to their soccer games. Daddy does everything by himself."

Savannah was losing yet another fight. She began to panic, looking to EJ for assistance, "A little help here?"

"You wanted to talk to her. This is what you get," he said smugly. His point was proven. Wakeup call administered, and she was not having it.

"I'm still her mother. She should respect me."

"You don't want her to respect you. You want her to fear you and do what you say. I'm not going to force her to do something she doesn't want to do."

"You're her father!" Savannah screeched, angry tears building in her eyes. She felt humiliated and even more pissed that he refused to stick up for her.

"Exactly. I know her better than you do. If you actually made an effort to be around, you wouldn't have this problem."

"I'm here as much as I can be."

"You're here as much as you want to be, and that's only a few times a year."

The two of them got so wrapped up in arguing with each other that neither noticed Tatiana running away.

Nayeli was still in the pool, floating on a bed with a bottle of cold water when she heard infuriated splashes and the sniffles of a crying child. She saw Tati on the steps wiping away her tears and abandoned her resting place to check on her.

"What's wrong, Princess?" she said softly, taking a seat next to her on the stairs.

"Daddy and my mom are fighting again. They always fight because of me."

Nayeli didn't want to say the wrong thing and took her time with her words to remain neutral, "It's not your fault. Sometimes mommies and daddies disagree about a bunch of stuff, but that doesn't mean you make them fight. They love you, and I know your dad only wants the best for you."

"Daddy loves me. I don't know if my mom does."

Crossing into rocky terrain, she took a slow breath and prayed for the wisdom to handle the situation delicately. She didn't want to violate the boundaries she set, but a child was hurting, a child she cared about very much. She couldn't sit idly while Tatiana's heart broke next to her.

"What makes you think that she doesn't?"

"I don't see her all the time. Just like two times, and she never wants to do stuff that I want to do. She doesn't like princess movies. She won't take me to the park. She doesn't come to my soccer games. She only takes me out to show her friends and then I don't see her again for weeks and months. Sometimes I call her to tell her about school and my friends and she doesn't answer." Nayeli's spirit broke a little more with each sentence that came out of Tati's mouth. How could a woman sleep peacefully at night after causing their baby so much turmoil?

"I'm so sorry that you're hurting, Princess," she said and hugged her, wiping stray tears away with her thumbs "Maybe she just doesn't know how to show you love the way your dad does. Have you told your mom what you told me?"

"She doesn't listen to me. She says I don't understand because I'm just a kid." When were people going to learn that children weren't as naive as everyone thought? Especially the more recent generations. They understood what it took some adult years to comprehend. Simply brushing them off didn't help develop their critical thinking skills, either.

"I think you understand things perfectly. In her own way, she does love you, Princess."

"I don't like her way," Tatiana said, squeezing Nayeli's waist with her arms and sniffling again as more tears leaked from her eyes. Nayeli was ready to go to war. All she needed was a weapon because Savannah blood would be spilt that day.

She kept herself calm for Tati's sake, telling her a funny story about the time her nephew tried to help her bake a cake and spilled flour all over himself. They giggled about his hair turning white and how much bigger of a mess he made trying to sweep it up. By the time Ezra made it to the backyard, she was back to smiling like she never cried at all, but he looked stressed out.

"Tati, your mom really wants to take you to get ice cream," he said, once again needing to prove a point because Savannah wouldn't listen when he said the wouldn't be forcing their daughter to do something she didn't want to do. She repeatedly violated their agreement thinking any of it would help her in the end. If she wanted to keep learning the hard way, so be it.

"I want to stay with Nayeli."

"I'll be right here when you get back," Nayeli promised, glancing nervously at Ezra because she had some things to say to him and didn't know when the right moment would be.

"Daddy, I don't want to go."

"Your mom will be upset."

"I'm upset now, and I don't want to go!" Tati said louder, loud enough for Savannah to hear since she was standing at the edge of the yard, seething at the sight of her being so attached to another woman. Everyone was trying to mind their business, but it was hard with it all on display.

"Okay. You don't have to." Ezra was never going to make her. He just wanted Savannah to understand that he wasn't influencing Tatiana to say anything. She paid attention and knew right from wrong. He wasn't to blame for her not wanting anything to do with her mom.

The yelling and cursing started before they made it back in the house, and even closing the panel didn't completely obscure the conversation. Morgan took her earrings off and twisted her faux locs into a tight bun, signaling Nayeli to let her know she was there if she needed back up.

Nayeli was unsure of what to do. Ezra told her not to engage, but the argument didn't seem to be cooling down, and no one else looked prepared to intervene, not the men or the women.

"Go stop them," Tati told her, tears filling her eyes again.

"It's not my place, Princess. They're your parents. They have to talk it out."

"But everyone is looking at them. Please go make them stop."

Do not engage. Do not engage. Do not engage.

Nayeli tried to remain seated, but Tatiana was right. Every adult in the yard twisted their necks to catch a glimpse of what was going on. The volume of yelling kept increasing, and when Savannah put her hand in Ezra's face, Nayeli decided to be the one to diffuse what almost became a domestic dispute.

"Princess, do me favor and go sit with my friend Morgan, okay? I'll be back in a minute," she said and got out of the pool. A quick swipe of a towel over her legs, and she was heading inside, sliding the panel shut behind her, "I don't mean to interrupt, but-"

"So don't," Savannah cracked, anger intensifying at the intrusion. Nayeli counted to five and walked over to stand between them, ignoring Ezra's signal to go back out the way she came.

"Your daughter is upset, and she can see you. I think you should be more concerned with that than whatever it is you're arguing about."

"I think you should mind your business."

"You can feel how you want. At the end of the day, Tatiana should always come first. That's rule one of parenting. Be an adult," Nayeli said, her own anger rising to the surface and flushing her cheeks.

"Who the fuck are you to speak on my child? You really think you can tell me shit because you're fucking him? You're nobody."

"I'm nobody, but your child would rather stay with me than spend time with you. How are you not embarrassed? You keep talking out the side of your neck to me all while I've been trying to help you."

"I don't need your help. I need you to get your own family and leave mine alone."

"I told you what to do if you had a problem with me being around. Ezra's right here. Go ahead and tell him you want me gone. See how it works out for you...........That's what I thought. Be a better parent."

"Bitch, you have some nerve-" Savannah lunged forward and reached for her hair, but Nayeli was ready, dodging the swipe and sending her fist forward before she could take another. It barely connected thanks to Ezra picking her up and keeping his arm locked around her as he held them apart.

"Let me go! I told her I would knock her screws loose if she tried me again!" Nayeli fought against his grip to no avail. She was a feather compared to him, "Let go, Ezra!"

"Get the fuck out!" he yelled at Savannah, placing Nayeli behind him and preventing Savannah from charging at her again.

"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!"

"Garrett! Get her out of here!" The man was already out of the room he worked in, waiting on his signal to step in, and he got it.

"You're really siding with this bitch over me?!"

"I'm not gonna keep telling you to watch your mouth, and you just tried to hit her again. Until you grow the fuck up, don't drive this way. When it's your weekend to pick Tati up, I'll have someone let you know where we can meet, and if you don't show up, that's on you. I'm not doing this shit anymore. We're done here."

Tatiana being aware of what was happening and Savannah making Nayeli come out of character were more than enough for him to be done with arguing. He didn't even want contact with Savannah directly. They needed a mediator from that point forward. He wanted and tried to get through the holiday season without too much drama going on, but all of that was dead. He had to move forward with his case. There was no waiting for the top of the year.

"That's how you want to play, I got something for your ass." Savannah snatched away from the bald buff man with an angry face that was called to remove her, cursing and stomping on her way out. With her negative energy gone, both Ezra and Nayeli's shoulders dropped. He looked even more exhausted when he turned to face her. She hung her head in shame, sure he would be upset with her for doing exactly what he told her not to do, but that seemed to be far from his immediate concern.

"You see the shit I have to deal with? I'm public enemy number one because I won't allow her to fuck with my daughter's head."

"Let the courts handle it," Nayeli said, hesitantly stepping forward to hug him. He held onto her like she was keeping him grounded, and she felt a little better knowing that he wasn't mad at her for what she did, "I wildly overstepped today. I realize that, but if I don't say this, I fear it might come from a stranger and not resonate well. Tati's going to need to talk to somebody."

"Like a professional?"

"Yes. She feels like Savannah doesn't love her. Remember what I said at her party. That really changes the way kids look at life. She also thinks you fight because of her. She needs to know it's not her fault." Hearing it from Nayeli wouldn't be enough to make her stop feeling it.

"She told you that?" he questioned, eyes hot and going blurry. While he wasn't the lackluster parent in the situation, he felt like a failure. He just wanted to protect his daughter, and he couldn't do that. Not yet at least. He blinked, a tear from each eye sliding down his face. When he tried to turn his head so Nayeli couldn't see, she stopped him, holding his cheeks and wiping the tears away.

"Right before she asked me to make you guys stop arguing. Don't beat yourself up. You're not the problem, and she knows that." She stood on her toes and pressed her lips to his, hugging him tighter when he put his face in her neck and lifted her from the floor, "I'm sorry for butting in," she said sincerely.

"I'm actually grateful that you did." Savannah refused to back down, and he didn't want to spend his evening arguing. He only called for Garrett if he thought the situation was more than he could handle. Trying to keep two women from scrapping in his kitchen was more than he could handle alone, but that ended his conversation sooner, "What made you come inside?"

"Tati....and when Savannah put her hand in your face I kinda saw red. I thought she was gonna hit you, and no way in hell would I let her get away with that."

Ezra chuckled and kissed Nayeli's forehead. Other than the women in his family, he'd never experienced one ready to throw down for him like that. His Shortcake was fearless and a little wild. He could get with that, "I'm not gonna lie, you can throw a punch." Her technique was great, and she was stronger than she appeared.

"You should've let it land. I don't make idle threats." Smiling at him, she pushed her lips out for a kiss and stretched up to meet him halfway. It calmed them both down to the point that they felt they could face everyone waiting for them outside.

"Thank you, but don't do that again," he said, stroking her bottom lip with his thumb.

"As long as she keeps her hands to herself, I won't."

#black literature #black love #black fiction #polyamory #romantic fiction #romance #love #love story

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creamecream · 5 years ago

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*Finn and the hunter sitting together on the beach, looking up at the stars.*

Finn: The sky’s really beautiful at this time of year.

The Hunter: Yeah...

Finn: You know what else is beautiful?

Both: Ezra.

#has this been done already? because it should have been #ezra is called pretty so many times and I am here for that thank you #when the night comes #finn #finn x ezra #finnzra #hunter #ezra x hunter #Creame brabbling

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kingofkingdom-archive · 4 years ago

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Recovery [Ezra (Prospect) x Fem!Reader]

A/N: Hello all! This is my first Pedro Pascal work and the first to be posted here to this blog. If anyone has any requests, don’t hesitate to send them my way! As always, please read the tags/warnings, you are responsible for the media you choose to consume. Also posted to AO3 under the same username (kingofkingdom). I did not use “y/n” or anything similar in this story.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You were taken from your younger sister, Cee, ten years ago. When you answered a distress call from the Green, you didn’t expect to be reunited with her, and you certainly didn’t expect to meet a man like Ezra.

Warnings: mention of past violence/death, discussion of medical procedure, discussion of disability (amputation/loss of limb), family dynamics, abstract discussion of philosophy, small SW universe cameo :)

Tags: considerable amounts of fluff, size kink, daddy kink, hint of dd/lg, copious use of various pet names, p-in-v sex, some breast play/worship, some dom!ezra & sub!reader

Word count: 9552

You hadn't seen Cee since your mother died.

Her father had taken her and left you in the care of your aunt, a woman you didn't know, a woman who jumped at the chance to send you off to boarding school on the Ephrate the moment you were old enough. Most of your memories consisted of your host family there, with a younger "sister" who reminded you all too much of the one you had lost. In your mind, Cee was still a toddler, all wispy blonde hair and big blue eyes.

Cee's father had never liked you. You were the evidence of his wife's life before him, and you looked too much like your own deceased father for him to have any affection toward you. It didn't surprise you that he left you behind after your mother died, but at ten that didn't make it hurt any less.

Since then, ten years had passed. Now, your aunt was gone, and your studies on the Ephrate completed. You'd taken to a rather nomadic lifestyle, catching rides from planet to station to planet and picking up odd jobs here and there. It wasn't much, but you'd become a strong woman in your time on your own, and thoughts of your half-sister plagued you only some nights now.

Jobs you took ranged from helping the lone-wolf prospector on an excavation to ship repairs at major stations across the system. In one of your darker moments, you'd even carried out a hit against some low-level merc who'd pissed off the wrong people. Those people paid well, enough to fill your stomach for a few days and cover a ride far away from that moon. The right circles knew you could hold your own, and that's what mattered.

This particular station was on the outskirts of the system, a rough-and-tumble place frequented only by prospectors and the people that paid them. You'd taken a shift at the bar here a few weeks ago, and knew the locals pretty well. In a spot like this, people could often get more information at your humble establishment than they could from the officials. You were lying low, and you itched to get moving again, like the nomad you were.

Hence why you kept the radio channels on all the time during your shifts, quiet and unobtrusive where you stood at the bar.

You were thankful, looking back, that it had been a quiet afternoon, and that you'd been so vigilant in keeping track of job openings.

"This is Kilo-Romeo 12, calling from Green sector 608. In need of assistance pronto, rapid extraction A.S.A.P."

The voice is faint, but frantic - a masculine growl laced with an edge of panic. Your radio isn't the best, and you don't recognize the prospector's callsign, but you know he must be in deep shit. A call like this from the Green is a death sentence if someone doesn't act quickly.

As with most of your decisions, you act entirely on impulse. As you hit the button to close up the bar's doors, the radio is already in your hands.

"This is Juno B-390, responding to Kilo-Romeo 12. Do you copy?"

You're down the hall by now, rushing to your quarters to collect your meager belongings. Everything fits in a single pack, and you're just pulling your helmet onto your head when the radio crackles to life again.

"I copy, Juno B-390," the relief is evident in his voice, even through the static. "We need extraction and medical care."

Well, that wasn't in the initial signal. "We? How many are with you? And what kind of medical care are we talkin' here?"

"Just me and one other. Deep trauma to the abdomen, I'm afraid."

You swear under your breath. Nothing you can't handle, but this guy's timer's really running out. You grab the necessary supplies and dash to your small pod racer, which is just big enough with its three seats.

"Hang on, Kilo-Romeo. I'll be there as soon as I'm able. You'll need to direct me to your exact location, is that clear?"

There's a moment of silence before his voice echoes through your racer one last time.

"Clear."

You descend upon the Green as fast as the forces of physics and gravity allow you to. Sector 608, as it says on your map, is a stretch of deep woods and rolling terrain, nearly unexplored save for the last rush. You slow up as you approach, and call out to the prospector over the radio once again.

"Kilo-Romeo 12, this is Juno B-390. I am approaching your location. Do you copy?"

It's quiet. Much too quiet. You slow the racer even more, as your heart begins to race. Just as you begin to worry that you're too late, the radio awakens.

It's not the man, however, whose voice you hear.

"This is Ez-- I mean, this is Kilo-Romeo's... uh... companion. He's gotten worse."

It's a girl. A young teen, from the sound of it. Your heart clenches, thinking of how scared she must be out there.

"Okay, hey there. It's gonna be okay. Can you tell me what landmarks you see? Help me find you."

"Um, yeah. We're in a clearing, there's another ship right nearby. It's not operational, which is wh-- uh, yeah. Clearing, big ship. Also sort of a gulley nearby."

You're about to respond when she speaks again.

"Please, hurry."

"I will, kid. Just keep him alive."

It takes you longer than you would've liked to find this clearing, but once you do you see a scene that brings more questions than answers. Dead bodies litter the field and a half-blown excavation site sits in ruins. Discretion's always been a virtue of yours, though, so you file the information away in your brain and swiftly land your craft. As soon as you exit, you hear the girl's voice not too far away.

"Here! We're over here!"

You grab the field kit and run over to where she stands over a slumped figure. The man you'd spoken to is now unconscious, and not only does he have a nasty looking wound in his chest, he's missing an arm. You look up at the girl. Her brows are furrowed, eyes like steel. You like her already.

"Go to the racer and grab the stretcher that's behind the passenger seat. We'll have to move him onto that and carry him over."

She nods and runs off. Immediately, you turn to the man and take stock of his injuries. The arm has been gone for at least a little while, so that's not of immediate concern. You set to treating the chest wound, making sure to purge it and his suit of dust. Nasty stuff, that which floats around this planet. His filter is as good as gone, so you quickly connect your own.

You drain the wound with the juice the locals here produce, which is generally in stock in the station's field kits. It smells rank, but it works, and the man below you groans. Good, he's still vocal, at least. It doesn't sound like a lung's been punctured. You set up a highly temporary pocket over his wound and torn suit through which you can patch the injury. You take some foaming antiseptic and apply it to the wound before adhering a sticky bio-bandage over the top of it.

It'll do for now. He'll need further treatment at the station, but this should keep him alive, at least.

The girl returns with the stretcher then, and places it next to the man. You glance up at her, and see momentarily a young version of yourself. Eager to help. Eager to make things right.

You shake your head, collecting your thoughts. "Okay, so I'm going to tilt his body towards me, and you slide the stretcher as far as you can under him. Then we'll let him down on top of it and secure him for travel. Can you do that?"

She nods, and you give her a small smile. You hook one arm around the man's waist, the other supporting his neck and shoulder.

"On three, okay? One... two... three!"

Quickly, you roll him up onto his remaining arm as she slides the stretcher under him. As gently as possible, you let him back down, and just like that he's mostly on the stretcher. You set to arranging him properly and tying straps down.

The girl fidgets, and you look up to her.

"Do you know how to stow the back seat in a racer like that?" you ask, and she nods.

"Good, go do it."

She runs off, and is back by the time you've gotten the man secured to the stretcher.

"You take the handles at his feet and I'll take his head. We have to be careful not to tilt him too much, to keep the weight on the stretcher even. Did he suffer any head trauma?"

The girl shakes her head. "No, I don't think so."

You probably should have asked that before moving him onto the stretcher, but then again no one's ever known you for your excellence in trauma care. Your knowledge of first aid comes only from what you've picked up in the field, so sometimes the order of operations gets a bit jumbled.

Whatever. He'll be okay. You can't let yourself think otherwise.

The girl stoops to grab hold of the handles at his feet. You do the same at his head, and again you count backwards from three.

"Up!"

Together you stand, and twin groans echo from both of you. The girl huffs, clearly struggling a bit under the weight.

"Okay, let's go. Slowly, remember."

You walk backwards, feet taking cautious steps so as to keep the same pace as the young girl. Her face is screwed up in focus and concentration, hands in a vice grip on the handles.

"You're doing good, kid. Just a bit further."

Before you know it, you've reached the ship. Carefully, you set the stretcher in the racer, and then the two of you slide it in. There's just barely enough room for it. You quickly secure it, and then close the hatch.

The girl is looking at you, eyes wide and chest heaving. You reach out a gloved hand and set it on her shoulder, giving a firm squeeze.

"He'll be okay. I promise. Now go get in the passenger seat and I'll get us back up to the station."

She nods, and seems to relax a bit at that. You can't help but wonder what she's been through, out here in this rough, unforgiving environment. "Thank you."

You smile, and sincerely hope that this young girl finds a way to leave this life of prospecting behind. You don't know how she got here, but it's no place for someone so young. You know that all too well.

"Let's go, kid."

The trip was pretty quiet save for a single groan from the man in back. The girl glanced back to him when she heard that, and then looked at you, concerned.

"It's okay. He'll be in and out of consciousness until we get to the station. I'll pull up to the emergency med-bay so the doctors can start treating him properly right away."

You look over to her, and she nods.

"Does he have anyone they can contact? Any family?" you ask. "The doctors will need to know."

She shakes her head. "I'm not sure. I don't think so."

You sigh. "Okay. Well, we'll deal with that when we get there."

It's not long after that you arrive at the med-bay. It's a whirlwind of nurses and questions and forms, most of which you have to leave blank, since you don't know the guy and the girl seems not to know much more. She does, however, give you a name.

"His name's Ezra," she offers, when she sees you pause at the line on the top of the screen.

You look over at her. "Ezra? Spelled E-Z-R-A?"

She nods. "Never told me a last name though."

"That's alright. A first name's enough."

She sits next to you and helps where she can as you fill out the form. Once you're done, you go up to hand the tablet back to the receptionist. You then sit back down next to her, crossing your arms over your flight suit. The girl's fiddling with her fingers, bag tucked between her feet.

"Do you think we'll be able to see him when they're done?" she asks, clearly trying not to sound as worried as she is.

You shrug. "Probably. It might be a while, though. Do you want something to eat while we wait?"

She nods, and when you look over at her, she's smiling.

As it turns out, it does take a pretty long time for them to complete the operation. It feels like hours that you two are sitting there. You watch the people come and go from the waiting room while the girl writes in some notebook, headphones secure over her ears, absently eating a chocolate bar.

She can't be more than 13 or 14. You think back to when you were that age - in the middle of your time at the Ephrate, moody and angsty like all young teens. It makes you think of Cee. She'd be about that age by now. You look over to the girl sitting next to you, wondering what ever became of your sister. Maybe she's at the Ephrate by now, or perhaps her father has taken her to some peaceful planet with beaches and a nice home, a few pets running around.

Hopefully a better life than the one you've led. Somewhere far from thrower blasts and gemstones.

This girl seems nice enough, and you're sure she's seen her fair share of shit. It's clear this guy's not only not her father, but that they haven't known each other long at all. You can't help but wonder how they ended up traveling together.

Images of the clearing littered with bodies flashes in your mind. Something went down there, and it clearly got ugly fast. It's amazing that the girl emerged relatively unscathed. You've seen a fair share of shootouts and fights, and never did you escape completely uninjured. It takes cleverness and a strong sense of self-preservation, the latter of which you don't often have.

You're ruminating on the mystery sitting next to you when the doors to the operating rooms swing open. A nurse steps out and looks at both of you. You stand, and she follows suit.

"He's awake, and asking for you," the nurse says. You nudge the girl slightly with your elbow.

"Go on, go see hi--"

The nurse cuts in. "He's asking for both of you."

Oh. You're surprised. He doesn't even know you, so there's no reason he should be asking to see you. Despite your confusion, you follow behind the girl as she follows the nurse to his room.

The hallways are sterile and white, cleaner than anything you've seen in months. The doorway is the last on the right, and inside is a single bed, with a small window looking out to the stars.

The young girl enters first as the nurse stands to the side, and you hover in the doorway to watch, still not quite feeling entirely welcome. You can just see the man's - Ezra's - hair behind the girl, with an unusual shock of blonde in otherwise dark brown curls.

"I was wondering where you went, birdie. One minute I was on the ground and next thing I know I'm sitting here like a babe in a bassinet, right as rain," he says, voice melodic with an accent you can't quite place.

"Do you feel better, Ezra?" the girl asks, voice wavering just slightly.

"I do. Are you faring alright yourself?"

She nods, and crosses her arms. Silence fills the room for a moment, then Ezra speaks again.

"Who was so kind as to bring us here, birdie?" he asks. The girl turns to you and steps aside so Ezra can see you.

"She did," she replies, a soft look on her face.

You step forward and look at Ezra properly for the first time. You hadn't really paid much attention to his facial features back on the Green, so concerned as you were with getting him out of there.

His dark brown eyes are kind, and his lips tease at a smile. He's got stubble growing on his chin and a mustache on his lip. There's a thin white line in the shape of a crescent underneath his left eye, the silvery remnant of a deep cut sustained long ago. He's older than you, maybe 40 or so. For some reason, you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach, but you're quick to snuff those out best you can. Mirroring the girl, you cross your arms, and flip your braid over your shoulder.

"Yeah, that would be me," you say, as nonchalantly as you can manage.

"I recognize that voice from the radio," he notes, looking at you intently. "I can't hardly give you enough thanks for getting the two of us out of that... sticky situation. You really are somethin' else, sugar."

You shrug, unused to such praise, such immediate kindness. You feel your face heat up with a blush, and you clear your throat.

"Well, it sure sounded like you were in need of some help. I'm happy to see you're doing better."

Your voice is softer than you intend. Spending even three minutes with this guy seems to have thrown you off balance. You haven't met anyone that talks like him since you were in school, and it's like a breath of fresh air.

His face turns serious at your words. Ezra's gaze is as intense as it is gentle, burning into your own.

"Oh, much better," he assures you, giving you a look you can't quite decipher. A smile quickly returns to his features. "It's a shame they couldn't get my arm to grow back."

You laugh a little at that, happy to see that he's in good spirits. The nurse steps forward then, tablet in hand. The three of you turn to her.

"Ezra will likely be discharged tomorrow morning, given how much progress he's made just today. He will need somewhere to rest, however, for the next week or so. We can help to make boarding arrangeme--"

"No," you interrupt, surprising even yourself. "No, he can stay with me. I have quarters in the 4th wing." You turn to the girl. "You can stay with me too, if you'd like." You don't know what's come over yourself, but you find yourself drawn to this unlikely pair.

The girl nods once, just as Ezra speaks up. "You're too kind, sugar. Your hospitality and generosity are appreciated beyond measure. Do let us know if there's any way at all we can show our gratitude."

You shake your head immediately, waving a hand as if to wave away the notion.

"No need for that. Consider it a celebratory gift for parting with the Green."

Everyone laughs at that - even the nurse, who hides her grin behind her tablet.

The next morning, you and the girl - whose name you still don't know, and who still does not know yours - visit the med-bay first thing after breakfast. Your quarters are small, enough to fit two comfortably and three at most. The girl has decided to take the sofa, since Ezra will need to rest, and a bed is most ideal for that. It seems you both tend to rise early, so you gave her some oatmeal and a cup of coffee. She took both without hesitation, and it warmed your heart to see her eat after however long she and Ezra had been out there.

When you two arrive, Ezra is waiting in his room, dressed in clean loungewear with a bag on his lap. He is seated in a wheelchair. You and the girl greet him, happy to see that he is rested and ready to leave.

"I told the kind folks that I am more than able to walk unaided," he comments when you begin to push the chair from behind. "They insisted, however, and I am not one to ignore the advice and orders of my physicians."

You see the girl try to hide a smile. It seems as though he's grown on her, and she struggles to admit that to herself. Before you can think better of it, you give Ezra a pat on the right shoulder, a small attempt at reassurance.

"You'll be walking in no time, I'm sure," you reply.

You feel his left hand cover your own, and you nearly stumble as you push him along through the hallway. His palm is rough and callused, a signature trait of most prospectors. It's large, too, covering your own entirely. Its warmth soaks through the back of your hand and into your stomach.

"With kindness as bright as yours to guide me, that will certainly be the case."

You don't know what to say to that, so you give his shoulder a squeeze and retract your hand.

The 4th wing is not too far from the med-bay; the station itself is smaller than most, so the distance is blessedly short. Ezra does most of the talking while the three of you walk.

"It would suit me just perfectly to never see that god-forsaken moon again so long as I live," he comments just as you reach the door to your quarters. You scan your ID card and the panel slides open, revealing a small but comfortable dwelling. "Forget the gems, forget the money. Prospecting is surely the most foolish endeavor of them all."

"The lust for wealth is stronger than the fear of death," you reply, almost without thinking.

Ezra looks up at you, smiling, a curious look on his face. "Asmolea. Ruminations, chapter seven. Color me impressed, sugar."

You look back, equally surprised. "You recognize that quote?"

"Why, yes, in fact, I do," he responds, and you notice the girl watching the two of you out of the corner of your eye. "I was an admirer of the great thinkers, long ago. When I was younger, and more -- well, more curious about such things, I suppose."

You wheel him into the small sitting area, arranged around a holo-screen. The walls are bare, lack of personality belying a short-lived residence here. You engage the wheelchair's brakes and take a seat yourself, across from him on an armchair. The girl sits on the sofa, where she slept last night.

"Philosophy is the sustenance of the mind," he continues, kicking his feet up to rest on the coffee table. He winces slightly at the motion, but keeps speaking nevertheless. "Without it, we decay. We risk succumbing to trivial errors of man. It is the sharpening stone to the blade of our intellect."

"What about literature?" the girl asks, her eyes firey and brow set. "I think that's much more valuable than what some ancient guy thought about a world we don't even know anymore."

You smile, pleased at this contribution. "I think great literature can convey philosophical ideas in the form of a modern narrative. You just have to keep an eye out for it, and understand its relevance to the story."

Ezra nods along. "I agree. Where did you read Asmolea, sugar?"

"At the Ephrate," you reply, and you see the girl perk up. You smile at her, hoping the two of you will have a chance to discuss that later. She seems entirely intrigued by you now. "I studied there for seven years, until I was eighteen."

"Why did you leave?" the girl asks.

You sigh, and bring your foot up to rest on the chair, so your thigh is pressed against your front. "Life there didn't suit me. I'm much happier on my own, not surrounded by stuffy academics and pretentious businessmen. The only ones I could stand there were the monks."

Ezra laughs at that. "The Neo-Carthusians?"

You nod, grinning. "Yeah. Considered joining, for about a month or so. I admire their lives of solitude and contemplation, but I couldn't imagine staying in one place for so long."

The conversation flows between the three of you so naturally you hardly notice the time flying by. They ask questions about you, and you return the favor by inquiring about their lives. The girl is quiet when it comes to her past, but you find out her father died on the Green. Both she and Ezra are hesitant to talk about it, which tells you all that you need to know.

Night falls quickly, or at least night according to standard time - on the station, there is no night or day, just a constant darkness visible out the windows interrupted by pinpricks of light. Everyone follows the standard clock, which runs according to time on the Ephrate.

You show Ezra to his room after the three of you have eaten dinner. It's a small space, just enough for a bed and a dresser. Carefully, he stands from the wheelchair, tosses his bag on the bed, and turns to look at you.

He's much taller than you are. The butterflies return as you look up at him, and a warm feeling radiates through the area below your stomach.

"Thank you again for the hospitality, sugar," he murmurs, voice low and deep. He moves the wheelchair out from between you, so there's nothing but air separating the two of you. "As I said, don't hesitate to ask if there is anything I can do to repay you. Anything at all."

You nod, at a loss for words. His hand comes up and gently brushes a loose strand of hair away from your face and tucks it behind your ear. You positively melt. This man is going to be the death of you.

"I'm just glad to see you safe, Ezra," you reply, and your eyes flutter at the way his fingers linger over the apple of your cheek. His lips look so soft, his eyes full of promises he intends to keep. You can feel yourself falling, as if in a dream.

You blink and lean back, away from him. This is a bad idea. For what reason, you can't say, but you dart to your room as soon as you begin to doubt yourself.

You shut the door and lean against it. There's no way, your mind whispers to you. He feels indebted. That's the only reason. You're too young, he just sees you as a kid.

In your haste, you didn't see the look in his eyes as you left so suddenly, or the way he stared at the door long after you shut it.

In the night, you dream of him. Dark eyes above you, heavenly, filthy moans filling the air around you, something thick and perfect filling the empty space inside you. His musical voice murmurs sweet words in your ear, and you hear the sound of your passion just as much as you feel it. Your hands grip his hair as he thrusts, your body trembling underneath him.

Your peak startles you awake, and you find your bedsheets soaked with the evidence of your fantasy.

Your bedside clock tells you it is the early hours of the morning. With a sigh, you toss back the blankets and emerge from your room quietly.

After a quick shower in the refresher, you step out and wrap a towel around yourself. You stare into the mirror, thinking about him.

You've never felt such an instant attraction to anyone before in your life. Sure, his looks contribute quite a bit, but it's much more than that. You and he seem to have a similar intellect, his passion and aptitude for prose matching your own knowledge and understanding of philosophy and the humanities. The girl is also equally respected by him as she is by you, and you both share a common want to see her thrive. You've known them both barely a day and a half, but they already feel more like family than anyone you've ever known.

You wonder if you're imagining his affections toward you. That could just be him, his way of communicating. You desperately hope it's more than that, but you also can't get your hopes up because of a silly dream.

A silly, beautiful dream.

Water drips from your hair, down your chest, and into the towel. As you begin to shiver, you decide to return to bed and try again for some uninterrupted sleep. You'll have to change the sheets, unfortunately, but that shouldn't take more than a few minutes.

You open the door and tiptoe back out into the hallway, quiet as a mouse. Just as you're about to sneak back into your room, towel clutched tightly in your fingers, you're startled by the door opposite your own sliding open.

And there he is. Dressed in little more than a pair of grey shorts, hair tousled and eyes weary with sleep.

He blinks a few times, and then his eyes widen, suddenly much more awake. You see him glance down, and his mouth parts ever so slightly before his gaze returns to your face.

You are frozen in place. Somewhere in your mind, you will your feet to dart away again, but the remnants of your dream still echo in your muscles, preventing you from leaving. Your hands tighten on your towel and despite yourself, you make note of his chest, his abdomen - the wound, which is an angry red line, held together with clear stitching, and which makes your heart clench at the thought of what would've happened had you not arrived - and finally, a rapid glance at his shorts, his thighs, before you find your sense and look back up at his face.

There's that intensity again, with considerably less gentleness. You inhale sharply, and spare a glance towards the sitting area, where the girl sleeps.

"She's quite the light sleeper, I'm afraid. I'd be mightily surprised if she didn't already hear --"

His voice is low, nearly inaudible to your ears as you look back at him. The tone of it causes the insides of your thighs to tremble, and your chest to heave with silent breaths. Ezra cuts himself off, clearly not having meant to say as much as he did.

Maybe it's the early hour that makes the words escape your lips with ease. Maybe it's the dream, the visions of which you can still see in your mind's eye as you look at him. Perhaps there's just something about Ezra that makes you bold, standing there with nothing more than thin terrycloth protecting your modesty.

"Hear what, Ezra?" you whisper, and set your jaw when his eyes widen ever so slightly.

Ezra reaches out, and his hand comes up to grip the back of your neck. His thumb strokes your jawline, behind your ear, and he steps forward. He's so close that you can feel the heat from his body on your own.

His lips press softly against your forehead, a surprisingly intimate gesture that makes you shiver. The hand that isn't clutching your towel moves to rest on his waist, golden skin warm under your cold fingers.

"Hear this, sweet thing," he murmurs against your skin, lips still pressed against you. "How strongly I feel for you. How deeply I know that it was divine providence that brought you to me. The ways I want to repay you for saving my life.”

His words are like molten gold, shimmering and hot as they slip over your skin and into your heart. You shiver, and your fingers curl gently into his side.

”I don’t - I don’t want you to feel obligated to... to do anything. With me. For me,” you whisper back, eyes closed, basking in the feeling of this quiet moment.

Ezra hums in dissent against your worries. “No... no...” he says, as his fingers slowly thread their way into your hair. “It isn't like that —“

He’s interrupted by a shuffling sound from the sitting room. You both freeze, wide-eyed, and look toward the room where the girl sleeps.

A moment passes, and then two. Enough that you know she is still asleep and there isn’t any risk of her finding you two like this.

It‘s like ice water thrown over you, the reminder of where and who you are. You look back up to Ezra, whose eyes are soft and knowing as they stare at you. His hand gently caresses the back of your neck, and then he brings it back to rest at his side.

"Go to bed, sweetheart," he murmurs, and then steps around you. He enters the refresher without another word.

You do as he says, but you find yourself struggling to fall back asleep once you return to clean, cool sheets. You watch the stars inch past outside your window as your mind races at the memory of his lips.

The next morning, you wake to sounds of movement coming from outside your door. For a moment you panic, before you remember your two visitors. And then you remember your encounter with one of those visitors last night, and the hushed words exchanged between you and him.

Beside you, the clock reads barely past 06:00, which is usually the time you wake up anyway. Today you have another shift at the bar, assuming you still have a job there after you ditched it the other day. With a groan, you pull yourself out from under the warm, soft covers and dress yourself.

The noise becomes more decipherable as you make your way down the hallway. Ezra and the girl are making small talk while something sizzles. You turn the corner and see Ezra standing at the stove with the girl sitting at the counter, the pleasing aromatic smell of pork bacon wafting through the air. You lean against the wall and watch the pair with a small smile, happy to see someone making use of a space normally reserved for microwave rations and alcohol snuck from the bar.

No one's ever accused you of being a particularly good bartender, that's for sure.

Ezra turns to look at you when he hears your footsteps, a bright smile lighting up his face.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he teases, and pushes the bacon around with a spatula. "I cannot emphasize enough how divine it was to wake up with a soft cushion beneath me rather than dirt. I could much too easily let myself get used to this, and I think Cee here agrees with me on that account. Don't you, birdie?"

The girl nods, but you don't notice it. The color has drained from your face and you feel a frantic, sinking feeling in your chest.

"What did you say?" you ask, pushing yourself off the wall and looking at Ezra with wide eyes.

He looks back, brow furrowed, confused. "I believe I said that I could get used to this...?"

You turn away from him and look at the girl. She's looking at you too, now, concern evident in her eyes.

"What did he say your name is?"

She blinks. "My name's Cee."

Your hand flies up to your mouth, and you feel tears gather at the corners of your eyes. It can't be. But she's the right age, and her hair's the same, and...

"What was your father's name?"

She looks even more confused now. "Um, it was Damon."

Oh my god. "Oh my god. You're Cee."

The two of them stare at you like you've grown a second head. You laugh, realizing how foolish you look.

And then you give her your name.

Cee's eyes light up like nothing you've ever seen before, and she nearly launches herself off of the counter stool to wrap you in the tightest hug you've ever been given. You laugh again, a loud and boisterous thing, as happy tears spring unbidden and flow onto your cheeks. Her hands grip the back of your shirt as you hold her head to your chest with both hands.

"I never thought I'd see you again," you mutter through the tears, pressing your nose against her hair. It's her. It's really her. Suddenly you think Ezra was right about divine providence, that the three of you were meant to find each other, the event arranged by some mighty cosmic force.

"Dad told me you were dead," she cries, as the two of you collapse to the floor. Propriety suddenly no longer concerns you, not now that you're cradling your long-lost little sister.

"I'm so sorry, Cee. I'm so sorry."

You can't say much more than that. There are simultaneously too many and not enough things to say to the last family you have left in the universe, to this girl who was so much like you even in the first moments of knowing one another.

Above you, Ezra clears his throat.

"While this is clearly an unexpected but happy reunion that I hate to interrupt, I do have to ask how you girls know one another, so that I might not be kept in the dark about your relation?"

You look up at him as you move backwards to rest your shoulders against the wall. His dark eyes look down at you from above, and though you've never felt so small, you've also never felt happier in your life.

"She's my sister," you answer with a smile. "Same mother, different father. We were separated when our mother died. She was hardly more than a baby."

Ezra's eyes grow soft at that, and he nods. You begin to think that maybe now you both have something to thank the other for. You may have saved his life, but his radio transmission brought you Cee.

You tighten your arms around her, and place a kiss on the crown of her head. You aren't sure how long you sit there - long enough to have surely lost your job when you don't show up for your shift, but you can't find it within yourself to care. This is all that matters to you right now.

The day passes with you and Cee doing most of the talking, for once. Ezra seems content to just sit and listen, though you catch him a few times looking at you like he did in the darkened hallway last night.

After lunch, he makes a point to sit next to you on the couch, arm draped across the cushions behind you.

If Cee notices, she doesn't say anything. You still aren't sure where your relationship with Ezra stands, but in the midst of sharing stories with Cee and learning about her life, you don't find time to sort that out.

Dinner comes and goes again, and the topic of the future comes up.

"When do you think you'll be healed enough to travel again, Ezra?" you ask, as the three of you work on cleaning the dishes.

He shrugs. "I'm fit to travel right now," he answers, and you give him a look. No, he isn't. He chuckles. "Alright, sugar. Maybe another day or so. The serum they gave me to apply daily has been working wonders, I must admit."

You nod, and look over at Cee. "Where do you want to go? The Ephrate? I have no doubt you could get into the school there."

She perks up at that. "You think so? Would you bring me?"

"Why not? I'm a traveler anyway, and I think it's high time I got out of this station. Ezra?" You look over to him, but he's already looking at you.

You feel his hand ghost over the small of your back. "I would be most honored to accompany you both to the Ephrate, if you'll have me."

"Yes, of course," you reply, leaning into his touch, and you turn back to the task at hand.

Later on, when Cee is in bed listening to her music, and Ezra's in his room, you sit on your bed thinking about what's to come. In order to apply to the school, Cee will need a guardian contact, and a record of education. You hope she can pass the entrance exam and submit a writing sample, and that that will be enough. Maybe you can talk some of your former professors into considering her.

It’s a pretty long trip from the station to the Ephrate, even with a ship that can travel at hyper speed. You can’t help but wonder what will become of Ezra after you get Cee set up in school.

The man captivates you, to put it plainly. His poetic manner of speaking and the gentle fire of his passion, when directed at you, gives you a feeling unlike any other you’ve experienced before. You’ve met plenty of men in your life. None have ever made you feel such a way.

Before you can think better of it, while the desire to see his sleep-ruffled hair still sits at the forefront of your mind, you get out of bed and leave your room. Quietly, so as to not disturb Cee, you knock on his door.

”Come in!” he calls out from somewhere within.

You slide the door open, slip inside, and close the door behind you. Ezra is sitting up in bed, looking at you.

”To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing such a beautiful woman enter my chamber in the night?” The question is teasing, good-natured, but the compliment still makes your stomach swoop.

You smile, and walk to where he lies in bed, leaning against the dresses. “I wanted to thank you, Ezra. You brought my sister back to me, which is something I’ll never be able to repay you for. Can we call it even?”

He laughs at that. “Sure we can, sweet thing. You know, when I first saw you in that recovery room, I thought I recognized you from somewhere, and that my brain had done me the disservice of erasing all memory of you. I now realize it was because you and Cee are so much alike. I haven’t known her for much longer than I’ve known you, and it remains a miracle that she has given me even a modicum of trust, but I see the relation between you clear as a bell now.”

You have to smile at that. It warms your heart to know you didn’t imagine it, that someone else noticed it too.

Ezra reaches out then, in the dim light, and you step forward. Thinking he's reaching for your hand, you extend yours - but he bypasses it completely and wraps his hand around the back of your upper thigh, thumb brushing against your sleep shorts. A giggle escapes your lips as he pulls you in even closer to him. Ezra leans forward and presses his face against your midsection, nose just next to your belly button.

Confused, but certainly pleasantly surprised, you place your hands on his head and thread your fingers through his dark curls. Gently you massage his scalp, not quite understanding this sudden show of affection. It's different than last night, though you can't exactly express how.

You decide you're really enjoying seeing these different sides of Ezra when the two of you are alone.

When you happen to massage a certain spot right behind his ear, Ezra groans, a low sound that ripples through your bones. His grip tightens, and you feel his next words more than you hear them.

"Come here, little one," he murmurs into your stomach, nosing at the hem of your shirt. The pet name makes you clench, desire flooding through your center.

He pulls you closer, shifting his face away so he can guide you down onto the bed. You swing one leg over his waist just as he slides his hand up to grip your ass, turning you further so you're on your back next to him. He's on his side, propped up by his elbow, leaning over you.

You're breathless, staring up into those infinite brown eyes.

"You have consumed my every waking thought since the moment I first saw you" he says softly, his voice a low purr that awakens some unknown part of yourself. You turn into him, resting a hand on his side, and he presses his nose against your cheek.

"I must have been a saint in a previous life to have earned this sweet embrace," he continues, breath warm against your face. "I want to learn you, to study you with the same vigor the ancients studied and examined the mind. I want to know you, sweet girl, in every way possible.

"But I must be truthful with you, because I could no longer live with myself if I were not. I am not a good man. I have lived a long life of violence and amorality, and death and deceit seem to follow me hand-in-hand. You are so young, little one, full of life and vitality, future bright ahead of you. I do not deserve you, and you certainly deserve better than me."

His words are like needles piercing your heart. You slide your hand up his chest to cup his face, tenderly stroking his cheekbone. You draw him away ever so slightly so you can look him in the eye.

"You and I are not so different, Ezra," you hum, making sure that he keeps the eye contact. "I have been on that same path, of death and violence, for years. I've lived for none but myself."

You slide your thumb across his lower lip, soft and pink and tempting.

"Let me live for you."

You punctuate your whispered plea by drawing him back down and pressing your lips to his. He gasps into the kiss before returning it with passion amplified twofold. His leg slides over your midsection to stabilize himself, knees pushing in between your own so your thighs stretch open around his.

Ezra deepens the kiss almost immediately. You surrender to his lips, one hand gripping his shoulder while the other tangles again in his hair. His mouth is hot, tasting faintly of mint but mostly a sweet flavor you attribute only to him. You let out a soft moan at the feeling building in your cunt, wet and warm and yearning for him, and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Ezra licks at your teeth, seemingly in an attempt to map out every part of you that he can.

All you're able to do is moan, melting into him like a candle to a flame.

You feel Ezra shift a little, followed by profanity muttered softly against your lips. He draws away, and you open your eyes to see him clenching his jaw.

"'M still not fully adjusted to not having a kriffing arm," he grumbles, frustration evident in his eyes. You hum, hurting for him, wanting to take his pain away.

"What do you need, Ezra?" you ask. "What can I do?"

He presses his forehead against yours and sighs. "I want to see you, sweet thing. I want to touch you."

You flush, understanding the meaning of his words and feeling your panties grow wetter at the implication.

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes." You push at his shoulders, urging him to sit back. He does so, sitting back. You rearrange your legs so that yours rest outside of his, and sit up. Your thighs are tucked against his hips in a position that feels much closer than before - you can just barely feel the heat of his groin against your own. A breath stumbles its way out of your lungs, chest heaving.

Before you can think any further on your insecurities, you grasp the hem of your shirt and draw it up and over your head. Ezra's eyes light up, glance at your face, darken considerably as he looks down again, and then he's on you once more.

His arm wraps around you tightly, hand pressing firmly into your ribs, and it's then that you really take in the size difference between you and him. As his head dips to press his lips against your breasts and nipples, you can't help but shudder at the way his body curls over your own. You feel distinctly small, in a way that would usually frighten you but instead makes you shiver.

This position is clearly more comfortable for Ezra, because he becomes more vocal as he lavishes your tits with attention.

"Gods, little one," he murmurs against the top of one of your breasts, tongue darting out to taste your peaked bud, "your body is divine, the sweetest fruit in the universe." He pauses to suck at your nipple, drawing it into his mouth, and the sight of it forces a whine from your throat. Something about it is so perfect, so perverse, for a man who's always been so sweet, that you can't help but press your clothed cunt down on his cock, the shape of which you can feel burning and hard like an iron through your clothes.

Ezra lets out a choked growl at that, a deep rumbling sound that you immediately commit to memory, in case of the unfortunate event that you're not blessed to ever hear it again. He releases your teat, now spit-soaked and throbbing, and looks at you with eyes so dark you hardly recognize them. His brows are drawn together, teeth bared like a feral animal.

"That's what you do to me," he growls, moving his hand down to cup your ass, squeezing harshly. You gasp, and press into him, bare chest to bare chest. "Feel my dick against your little pussy, baby? Think it can fit?"

You nod frantically, knowing your shorts are soaked through, as his filthy words send your mind reeling. You're not capable of thoughts beyond him and this any longer.

Ezra uses his grip on your ass to press your cunt against him once more, and he rolls his hips up into you in a mimicry of what he'd like to do you. You moan, completely unashamed, and drop your head to tuck your face against his shoulder.

"Please," you whine, nearly unaware of the words coming out of your mouth. It's quiet, hushed, this next utterance, and it's passed through your lips before you can think twice about it.

"Please fuck me, daddy."

Ezra freezes. It takes you a moment too long to realize what you've said.

"What did you say?" Ezra asks, the words rumbling from somewhere in his chest.

You get a frantic feeling in your limbs, panic crawling up your throat. Great, you think, I've messed it all up. He probably thinks I'm some freak, screwed up in the head.

You're broken from your spiraling thoughts by the feeling of his lips on your neck, teeth digging into the space beneath your jawline.

"I asked you a question, sweet girl."

You tremble in his grasp. He's not going to let it go. "Daddy..." you whimper, and he groans.

"You really are a perfect little girl for me," he mutters as his hand slides around from your ass to the front of your shorts. You tighten your grip on the back of his neck and lean forward, thinking he intends to pull your remaining clothes down your legs.

Instead, he clenches his fist and tears them, both your shorts and your panties, from your pussy. You yelp as he does so, and watch as the fabric goes flying somewhere off to the side.

"There you are, sweet thing," he murmurs, leaning back to look at you, hand back in position on your bare ass. "Look at you. Filthy and perfect for daddy, aren't you? A fantasy come to life, placed in my lap by the gods themselves."

You moan once more, pressing your bare cunt against the outline of his cock in his thin sleep pants. He reaches down to pull it free, and as you keep your balance against him, you look down and see perhaps the biggest dick you've ever laid eyes on. Ezra chuckles, watching your reaction.

"You ready, baby? Want me to fill you up, fuck you like you need?"

You nod, and lean in to press your face against the crook of his neck again. "Please," you whine. "I need your big cock in my pussy."

The words are completely unlike you - something about Ezra has awoken a completely submissive, unfiltered side of yourself you didn't know existed before. Sure, you knew you wanted him, and weren't a stranger to sex, but this is an entirely new personality, focused entirely on being his. It's almost like a dream, and for a moment you feel as though you're floating, with how relaxed you are in anticipation for --

Oh.

He's guided the head of his cock to your entrance, and is using his leverage on your ass to guide you slowly, slowly down. You gasp - he's certainly the biggest you've ever had, and the stretch is delicious. Ezra's restraining himself, going slow so he doesn't hurt you, but you have no such qualms.

You drop down in one fell swoop, and the way he fills you makes your eyes roll back in your head. His hand moves from your ass to around your waist, nearly encircling it entirely. He groans, loudly and deeply.

"You'll kill me like this, little one. You're just wrapped around my cock, aren't you? Desperate for it?"

You nod frantically. "Yes, daddy. Yes!"

Ezra moans at that. His hand grips your waist, teeth biting and sucking at your neck, as you push up on your thighs to lift off of him. The drag of his dick against the walls of your cunt is incredible, the head of it catching and pushing on hidden, sensitive ridges within you.

You drop down again, and begin to fuck yourself on Ezra's cock.

His hips piston up as you do so, finding and matching your rhythm with ease. His melodic voice mutters the dirtiest things you've ever heard as he slams his hips up into you.

"...That's it, sweet thing. You were made to fit on my cock, weren't you?..."

"...Wanted to do this that night in the hallway, take you right up against the wall..."

"...My strong, sweet girl, bouncing like a whore on daddy’s cock -- gods, look at your tits..."

You feel your climax building, rising like a fire about to consume you from the inside out. Ezra is close, too, from the way his hips stutter and his breathing becomes ragged.

"Sweet thing..." he groans, slowing his thrusts. "I can't... inside you..."

You shake your head. You know he's clean, since he was tested at the med-bay when he went in for the operation. And besides...

"I've got the implant, daddy. Come in me, please."

Ezra finishes with the most beautiful moan you've ever heard, and you come nearly at the same moment. It's an ethereal, heavenly experience, like the two of you have ascended and joined the gods who so graciously brought you together.

You fall asleep tucked into his chest, warm under his blanket, with the smell of him and you and both of you lulling you into the most peaceful sleep you've had in your life.

A month later, you and Ezra and Cee sit at a mahogany wood table, filling out a holo-tablet with the form for Cee's entrance into your alma mater on the Ephrate. Your sister is already taken with the place, and you couldn't be happier for her.

"Now it wants me to put in a parent or guardian's name," she says, stylus hovering over that section. The cursor blinks as it waits.

You're about to tell her to skip it, but Ezra speaks up before you can.

"Put my name down," he offers, and she looks over at him. "Is that okay with you?"

Cee nods, a genuine smile brightening her features. She turns back to the screen with haste.

"Ezra Stallard," he adds simply.

You look over to him, pleased with this revelation.

As you watch Cee enter Ezra's full name into the blank and select Guardian, you get a chill up your spine. Despite yourself, you think back to that night, and you know Ezra's thinking the same when his hand moves over to rest on your thigh.

You can't wait to have your ship to yourselves; the joy of seeing your sister thrive in a new setting is followed only by the anticipation of what is to come. You and Ezra have made no plans for the future yet - all you know is that he will be with you, and that's the only guarantee you need.

For the first time in a very long time, your heart sings.

#ezra x you #ezra (prospect)#ezra prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x female reader #prospect #prospect fanfiction #prospect (2018)#ezra x reader smut #pedrp pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #ezra fic #ezra prospect x reader #canon compliant #wrote this while listening exclusively to grimes #take that as you will

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f0rever15elf · 4 years ago

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Twin Souls

Summary: Soulmates. Twin souls. They’re the stuff of legends, right? They aren’t real...Or are they? And if they are...can they really span universes?

Pairing: Pero/Whiskey/Oberyn/Din/Max/Maxwell/Dave/Catfish/Marcus/Ezra x fem!Reader (yes, ALL of those Pedro boys are in this fic at some point. I’m overly indulgent) Rating: M Warning: Harsh language, sexual innuendo, death mentions, violence, injured reader, a little bit of angst (for the spice), way too many pedro characters in one fic, no beta reading. Soulmates!AU Word count: 9,649 (lord help me)

a/n: This was inspired by a post that literally just mentioned our favorite soulmate trope that through any universe, two souls will find one another and I just think that’s really beautiful and NEEDED TO GET IT OUT OF MY BRAIN. So I hope you enjoy this!

Masterlist | Ao3

Twin Souls. Mirror souls. Soulmates. Twin flames. Almost every culture has their own rendition of this idea that each of us has another half that we are created with and separated from before we come into this life. Someone we are destined to find as surely as the river finds the sea. Some legends claim it was that we all originate with four arms, four legs, two heads, and one soul that shone brighter than the brightest of stars in the sky, and this drew jealousy from the gods who then wrent us in two. For others, it is destiny calling two individuals together, the universe declaring that two must become one. And even simpler still, some believe that it is no more than a chemical attraction. Something purely physical, biological, and nothing more. A perfect mate.

But what if?

What if it was more than that. So much more. What if two souls were always destined to find one another? Across time and space and universes? What if...

Lightning cracks the sky, momentarily illuminating the face of the man on horseback. His scowl, as always, is firmly in place, his brow creased in a mix of irritation and exasperation. The rain has his dark, curled hair slicked down against his skull and his tunic under his armor is soaked through, drawing the warmth rapidly from his skin. He had told William they should make camp, that the smell of rain on the wind meant for foul weather, and soon, but William had ignored the grumpy Spaniard, electing to press on. Not twenty minutes later, the heavens opened, drenching the small caravan as they continued on. William rode silently in front of Pero, and he could feel the glare from his companion boring holes into the back of his head. If looks could kill, he would be dead several times over.

"I see lights ahead!" Calls the lookout from up ahead, and a satisfied chatter rolls through the group of sellswords. Pero lifts his chin only slightly to look ahead, jaw clenched, eyes alert. He had seen enough in his days selling his sword to know what to look for, and a small village in the middle of nowhere was always a gamble.

As the small group rides up to the edge of the village, a few of the village's men wait to greet them, lanterns out to welcome them to the town. The group of sellswords dismount as William goes to speak with the man Pero can only assume is the village leader. After a few words, William turns with a smile, moving through the group to tell them they would be making camp here tonight, bunking with members of the small community. The welcoming committee leads each man off to a different house, and had it not been for the rain still steadily downpouring, a dull chatter would have filled the air as the guests were welcomed with more hospitality than many of them were used to.

"And you, my friend, will be staying with us!" The village leader approaches Pero with a smile. "Come, my daughter will help to get you dry. This cold will seep to your bones and you will fall ill. Come. Come." The friendly elder makes his way to a small, comfortable hut, a warm fire blazing in the center. The crackling of the logs is a welcome sound to Pero's ears, and the smell of something savory fills his nostrils. The men had been living on rations for days, and Pero Tovar was sick of the hardtack and salt pork he carried with him. The elder introduces him to his family; a wife, a young son, and you, his only daughter. As soon as his eyes land on you, Pero feels a warm sensation spread through his stomach, one he had never felt before, and he finds it difficult to tear his eyes from yours as the man of the house begins speaking again, telling him that their house is his for the night. He manages to utter out a word of gratitude before you approach him, taking his hand to lead him to get cleaned up.

"It is not often our village has visitors," you murmur softly as you help him to doff his armor. "Most pass us by without so much as a second glance." Your smile causes that heat in his stomach to spread upwards through his chest, and up his neck. Such a foreign feeling... "Perhaps it is fate that brought you here, to us. I must thank fate, if that is the case, for bringing such a handsome man to my home." You laugh softly and it is a sweeter sound than any music the Spaniard has ever heard, light and gentle as the bluebird's song on the spring breeze. Pero's heart throbs in his chest at the sound.

"Sí, señorita. A thanks to fate for bringing me here." His eyes never leave your face and the tips of your ears turn red from the attention. His gaze was steady, with a hard edge of a man who had seen too much. After finishing doffing his armor, you help to ease him out of his wet tunic, and your heart stutters in your chest. Your gaze drifts from his torso back to his face, and your hand moves as if with a mind of its own, lifting to rest on his face. The soft pads of your fingers gently trace the scar over his eye. There was...something so familiar about him, but you had no idea what it was. Like you had seen this man before, someone who was him...yet not him. The thought confused you and you shook it from your head. That was impossible.

---

Your eyes snap open from the strange dream and you sit up in bed, rubbing your face. A man who looked so much like your Jack had been haunting your dreams for days now, and you had absolutely no idea what it could mean. Jack stirs beside you, letting out a soft groan as he stretches.

"Darlin'? You alright? It's awful early for you to be up." He glances over at the clock on the nightstand. 3:30 am, early was an understatement. His hand finds the small of your back, rubbing gentle circles against the skin there. You hum and nod your head.

"Just...weird dreams Jack. That's all." You turn your head and smile down at him and he makes a concerned sound at the back of his throat.

"Wanna talk about it, sweetheart?" Your heart melted at the concern, and you ease yourself back down, laying in his arms.

"It doesn't make much sense, really. You'll probably think I'm crazy." His arm holds you a little closer to him and he chuckles.

"Try me." A smile tugs at the corners of your lips and you take a deep breath.

"Well...if you say so. I've been dreaming of a person. It's...this guy. He looks so much like you, and he has a scar right here." You delicately trace the line of the scar from the mystery man in your dreams. "And his face is weathered and serious. He's always scowling. I have no idea but it's like it's you but it isn't you. But it's more like... a faded memory than a dream. It's crazy, I know." Jack is quiet as he listens to you, his fingers still tracing delicate patterns on your skin.

"I...don't think you're crazy, sweetheart." You blink, honestly shocked as you look up at him. He's staring up at the ceiling, a contemplative look on his face. "I've had dreams like that too. Ones of you. Or, well, a girl who looks almost exactly like you." Propping yourself up on your elbow, you look down at him, that handsome, lopsided smile on his face.

"You're not pulling my leg to appease me, are you?"

"Now darlin', when have I ever done that to you?" He had a point. His silver tongue worked magic in many ways, but spinning lies to appease you was not one of those ways. Your brow creases as you lose yourself in your thoughts of what this could mean until a whip-calloused finger smooths the lines between your brows. "You ever heard 'a soulmates, sweetness?" The question strikes you as rather odd, something out of a fairy tale, but you nod. "I'm thinkin' that may be our answer." His arm wraps around you and he pulls you back against him. "Lovers truly meant to be." Gentle lips press light kisses to your forehead, his moustache tickling the skin and drawing a giggle from you.

"Do you really think that, Jack? That we've met before?"

"Well it would explain how we fell in with one another quicker than a jackrabbit with a fox on its tail. Now, I know my charm is absolutely irresistible, but I don't think I can take all the credit here." He grins and you can't help the laugh that bubbles from your throat, smacking his chest lightly. You had to admit...it made sense. In some weird, metaphysical sense that you weren't quite sure you completely believed. But Jack believed it, and that was enough for you. It also meant you could stop feeling guilty about these dreams of this mysterious Spaniard.

"So this dream girl. What's she like?" You ask, snuggling into Jack's embrace. He shakes his head and laughs.

"What, you jealous of yourself, gorgeous? C'mon now, you get to ride this cowboy any time you like, ain't no need to be jealous of a dream of you." You gasp and smack his chest, cheeks flushing red as you hide against his chest. He chuckles and lavishes a few gentle kisses to the top of your head, snuggling down in bed with you.

"Jack?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, doll. Now close those pretty eyes of yours and get some sleep."

And you did just that, slowly drifting off to dreamland.

---

"Hellloooooo!" Cara snapped her fingers in front of your face and you jumped, coming back to reality. "You know, you really freak me out when you do that." She leans back in her chair, a cup of spotchka in one hand, her lopsided smirk on her face. You cough, and scratch at the back of your neck.

"Yeah...sorry about that." She just shakes her head.

"Where do you go when you zone out like that? Takes me forever to bring you back around." You just shrug, staring down at your bowl of soup.

"Day dreams, I guess. I can't really describe them. I see faces though. Well, a couple of faces anyways. Two men who look shockingly similar and-" Cara cuts you off with a wave of her hand.

"Sweets, I don't need to hear about your depraved day dreams." Her coy grin in your direction causes your face to flush a bright red at the insinuation and you make a move to reply when she goes rigid in her chair, setting her cup down with a little more force than necessary. Your brow creases in confusion, even more so when she stands and grabs your hand, quickly and quietly leading you out back. "Stay here," she hisses, moving slowly around front, leaving you confused and alone. And hungry. You had been so busy day dreaming you didn't even get the chance to finish your soup. A frown pulls at the corners of your lips as you hop up on a box out back, kicking your legs as you wait for your friend.

The sounds of fighting reach your ears a few minutes later and you jump up, running towards the sound, skidding to a halt when you round the corner to see Cara fighting with a person decked out in some of the shiniest armor you had ever seen. You open your mouth to say something when a small green creature walks out of the cantina, a bowl of soup in his tiny hands. He looks up at you and tilts his head before turning to walk a little closer to your skirmishing friend. You follow as both the armored figure and Cara end up on the ground, a blaster pointed at Cara's head. You're about to run forward to try and yank the blaster away when the sound of slurping distracts you. Looking down, you see the little green thing slurping up his soup, watching with a borderline uninterested look. The helmeted figure and Cara turn to look at you both before looking back at each other.

"...Want some soup?" The helmeted man says through what was clearly a modulator.

That was your first encounter with Din Dajrin, and you had no clue that that one day would lead to you aboard the Razor Crest, babysitting the little green creature he had taken in, and fixing things around the ship as they broke. You had never seen his face, nor much of his skin save for when you were patching him up from a particularly rough hunt, but that was okay. Life on the Crest was comfortable, and even in the silence that Din preferred to keep, you felt at home. His presence was enough to calm you on your more anxious days. The two of you grew close quickly. Quicker than you or he had expected, and it wasn't long before he was gracing you with idle affections. Light caresses as he passes you, his hand lingering on yours for longer than necessary, gently tucking stray hairs back behind your ear as you talk to him. Each little thing never failed to bring heat to your cheeks.

It was at the anniversary of your first cycle together that Din asked you to marry him. He had taken the three of you to a peaceful, lush planet to ask you. Some place safe and reclusive, a place where neither of you had to worry about anything. He wanted you as a part of his little clan, and your heart nearly burst with affection as you rapidly shook your head, wiping away the tears. The tradition was simple, a marriage a sacred vow between the Mandolorian and their spouse. It was a promise to bind the two as one. A few simple words was all it took, and he was yours. He brought your hands to his helmet to let you lift it off, the moment unable to be any more perfect than this.

And that's when the blaster sounded. You freeze as your eyes go wide, slowly looking down to your chest where bright crimson starts to bleed through the material of your tunic. You look back up at him with glassy eyes and stumble forward into his grasp, only vaguely aware of more blaster fire, then total silence. Din lays you down on the soft grass, yanking his helmet off, and oh how you wish you could see his face clearly. You make out dark curls atop tan skin, dark eyes looking at you with such concern and fear, desperation...a look you couldn’t bring your eyes to focus enough to make out. Everything is fading so quickly. You can't hear his voice, only ringing. You were so sure he had a beautiful voice, it's a shame you wouldn't get to hear it free of modulation. Lifting your hand, you place it weakly against his cheek, sputtering out "I love you...find me in the next..." With that, the last of your strength leaves you, your hand dropping from his face as your head lolls to the side, eyes staring blankly off into the distance.

Din lets out a cry of anguish as he pulls your lifeless form against him, sobbing into your hair. How could fate be so cruel?

Ezra shoots up ramrod straight in bed, gasping for air like a man drowning. A cold sweat clings to his skin, an afterthought of the nightmare that disturbed his sleep once more. He rubs his face, taking a deep breath before looking over at his time keeper. Two standard hours before his alarm... The sigh that leaves his lips is deep and heavy as he swings his legs over the side of his cot. Might as well get an early start on the day. There was no going back after that awful dream, and he could use the couple extra hours anyways. Mining with only one hand, everything took twice as long and was done half as well, so the extra time would give him a little leg-up on the day. Heavens above, he could use another set of hands around here. With Cee off at school, he was all on his own, and it was getting damn lonely. Working his way into his suit with a little bit of difficulty, he made the resolution to put out an ad for help the next time he went to the Depot to drop off a shipment.

And so he spent the day, mining and singing and talking to himself. Anyone else who saw him would surely think this one-armed man was crazy, but little did they know that talking to himself is exactly what kept him sane. He could move up the Depot visit. Yeah, that's what he would do. He'd need to go in the next week anyways, so why not just do it now? He resolved to head on the next day to the Depot, and he'd put out that add for some help.

The next day's trek was blessedly uneventful. The cash-in post scoffed at what little aurelac he had accrued so far, and the tips of his ears turned pink in embarrassment. He mutters a thank you for the credits exchange, and makes his way to the bulletin board to put in his ad. A single figure is standing in front of the board, a pack slung over their shoulder, miner's tools hanging off their belt.

"Pardon me," he says softly, scooting by them without looking at their face to pin up his ad. He turns to head back to his buggy to return to work, hopeful he would hear something over his coms soon.

"Sir?" A gentle voice calls from behind him and he freezes in place, his heartbeat suddenly incredibly loud in his ears. He knew that voice. That was the voice that had been in his nightmares over and over again. Find me in the next... He slowly turns to look at who had called him to see you standing there, looking exactly as you did in his dreams. But alive...so much more alive. You smile up at him, gentle and warm, with a light of concern in your eyes, and he has to resist the urge to run to you and pull you into his arms. "I say...you look like you've seen a ghost! Are you alright?" Ezra's mouth opens and closes a few times, not unlike a fish before he's able to find his words again.

"Y..Yes, I'm alright. Not to worry, gem, it's just been a rather arduous day is all, and I'm beginning to feel the effects taking hold. Pardon my rudeness." A gentlemanly smile graces his lips as he extends his hand to you. "The name is Ezra. How might you be doing this fine day?" You chuckle and take his hand, shaking it firmly. What an odd fellow this was.

"It's a pleasure, Ezra. And the answer to this next question will set my mood for the day, I'm sure. You're in need of a helper at your dig site?" He nods enthusiastically.

"I most certainly am! What a matter of fortune that I happen to stumble upon someone ready and willing to assist me the very day I come to place my ad!"

"Ready and willing is right! I just arrived on the surface. Took a gamble someone would be needing my help, and it appears I've come out on top!" Your smile is infectious, and Ezra returns it, just as brilliantly. It lights up his eyes, you notice. Warm, chocolate brown eyes that glimmer with a playfulness that excites you.

"Perhaps you can impart some of that luck on to me as we begin this partnership." He leads you back to his buggy to take you back to camp, loading up on some extra supplies as well with his meager earnings that would be needed with an extra mouth to feed. "Might you be the lucky star that this poor man has been waiting for!" You can't help but chuckle at the eccentric miner. His manner of speaking was so strikingly different from anyone you had met before. Words rolled off his lips sweet as nectar, and the sound of his voice bordered on intoxicating.

"Make a wish, and we'll see." You laugh, flashing him a wink. The two of you spend the rest of the ride talking, swapping stories of your previous adventures. Ezra's charm has you instantly at ease. It felt comfortable and familiar to be near him, and you couldn't quite explain it.

As you return to his camp and make your way inside, helping to unload, you do your best to help ease some of Ezra's burden. It was clear he was trying to show that his lack of an arm was no deterrent for him, but you worried he would hurt himself in the process.

"Here, I've got it," You say softly, taking an oxygen tank from him as he stumbled a bit, nearly dropping the canister. He looks up at you with those soulful brown eyes and your heart stutters in your chest. He nods and lets you take it inside as he grabs the last few small things from the buggy, following you in. His helmet hisses as he takes it off, slowly peeling himself out of his suit, and you do the same, folding yours up in the corner before standing awkwardly in the center of the hab until he's done. Dropping the offending article in the middle of the tent, he sighs and plops down on his cot, patting next to him for you to join. Happily, you do so, crossing your legs under you.

"Forgive me, lucky star, for my lacking capabilities. I am not the man I once was..." He gestures to the stump of his right arm, a pained look in his eyes. You place your hand on his thigh and flash a reassuring smile.

"Ezra, there is nothing to forgive. I'm here to help in whatever way you may need me to. We're partners, and partners help each other." He glances at you sideways, a smile gracing his lips at the pain fades in his eyes.

"Lucky star, I feel you may be imparting some of your luck on to me already. What plans the universe may have for us is an adventure I'm eager to embark on." You laugh and nod, squeezing his thigh once before getting up to start making your side of the hab.

And so the days go on. Long days spent mining as much aurelac as possible while the light provided, before getting cleaned up for the night. Evenings were usually spent listening to one of Ezra's fantastic tales, or listening to him read a book from his small collection. More and more you found yourself leaning against him, your eyelids heavy with sleep as his honey rich voice drawled on. It reverberated in his chest in a way that soothed you more than anything else had in the galaxy. But the good days were over too soon as mining season came to a close on the Green, and you found yourself facing Ezra in the Depot, the two of you ready to depart for your next jobs. The ache in your heart was unlike anything you had ever felt, having grown so fond of the loquacious miner.

You opened your mouth to say goodbye, to just rip the band-aid off, when he spoke over you.

"Come with me." The sentence was near a plea as he reached out to take your hand. Your eyes opened wide at his words, your mouth falling slightly open.

"W..what?"

"Come with my, my lucky little star... I can't imagine a life without you at this point, the comfort you bring me is beyond anything even the most luxurious of lifestyles could bring me." He squeezes your hand again. "Come with me...please..." You knew you couldn't, you knew you needed to head to your next journey, but the thought of doing so felt so wrong, as though your heart might explode if you tried...so you nod, and Ezra's eyes light up with a joy the likes of which you had never seen. He tugs your hand and pulls you to him, embracing you as best he can with his one arm, and nuzzles into your hair. You wrap your own arms around him to return the hug, sinking into the embrace that could only be described as feeling...right. You almost missed it as he whispered against your hair, "I found you..." You lean back, confusion in your eyes as you look up at him.

"...Found me?" You whisper and he smiles, dropping the embrace to take your hand and lead you toward his shuttle.

"If you would indulge me in some time to tell you a story, I can explain everything, lucky little star."

---

Your bare feet hit the pavement with loud slaps, legs propelling you forwards as fast as you could. Your lungs burned in your chest as you panted for air, not daring to look back over your shoulder for who you knew was following you. How had you managed to be so stupid, so careless? How could you have managed to get yourself involved in this?

"Get back here!" He yelled, his deep voice causing another shot of adrenaline to course through your bloodstream. He was going to kill you. Oh God, he was going to kill you! Tears stream down your face as you run, ducking into every alleyway you could, trying to elude him, but he had been doing this too long. He was good at covering his tracks, and you were a loose end he couldn't afford. You being alive jeopardized his life with his family.

You turn down another alley and your heart plummets when you are met with a stone wall, skidding to a halt in front of it. You hear his heavy footfalls behind you and you turn, falling to your knees. Maybe...maybe if you beg, he'll spare you?

Dave rounds the corner, and you hear the soft click of the safety of his silenced handgun. He stalks forward like a lion stalks an antelope and you have never in your life felt so small.

"You're a fast little she-devil, I'll give you that. It was a good chase." He stands in front of you as you begin to beg, pleading for your life. You'd move away, you'd forget everything. You'd change your name and cut contact with everyone, please just don't pull the trigger. "No can do, sweetheart. Can't risk it." He brings the gun up level with your forehead as you look up into his eyes, begging still, trembling with terror. For a moment, you see a light of recognition in his eyes, a light that looks so familiar it makes your heart ache. Visions of a space suit, an angry scar, a metal suit, and a cowboy hat all flash through your mind in rapid succession as the light registered somewhere deep in your subconscious.

Then, with the sound of a gunshot, everything vanishes.

---

"NO PLEASE STOP!" You shriek in your sleep, thrashing around in your shared bed, waking the man beside you. He startles, sitting up and pulling you upright, shaking you gently to try and wake you from your night terror. You had been having them more and more recently, and he was starting to get really concerned. Terrified eyes snap open, tears starting to streak down your face as you caught his eyes and immediately begin trying to get away from him, your body still full of adrenaline. "Let me go!" You screamed, fighting to get away from those eyes. Those damn eyes were exactly the same.

"Shhh shhh, cariña, calm down it was just a night terror, you're safe." That voice...that voice wasn't the same. That voice was so much kinder and softer than the one in your dream and you grow still in his arms, nervously looking back at the one holding you. Your terrified stare was met with the warmest chocolate eyes you had ever seen, full of nothing but love and concern for you as he held you.

"F-Frankie...?" you ask, barely above a whisper, and he nods. You tremble in his hold as you choke out a sob, falling into his embrace. "I-I'm s-s-sorry Frank-kie! I-It was s-so b-bad this t-time," you managed to choke out between sobs. Frankie’s gentle fingers run through your hair in an attempt to soothe you as he coos gently to you, swaying back and forth with you. His sleep shirt was clutched in your fists as you sobbed against him.

"It's alright cariña, I'm here, I've got you and you're safe. Nothing is going to get you, I promise." His voice is deep and rich, sleep still painting the edges of it as he holds you and whispers soothing words to you. How lucky could you be to have a man like Francisco Morales to call your own? He was so patient with you, even when these night terrors plagued you seemingly non-stop.

As your sobs turn to sniffles, he carefully looks down at you. "Was it the same dream, amor?" he asks softly, nervous to startle you, and you nod weakly.

"Being chased and cornered by a man with a gun...who looked like a sleazy businessman version of you... But his eyes were hard and angry and his voice was so cold." You look up at him with still watery eyes and he delicately wipes your cheek of any errant tears. "I hate this."

"I know, sweetheart, I know. I'm sorry, I would do anything to help those dreams stop." His hold tightens around you. He was angry. Angry he couldn't protect you from this. Angry that for some reason your mind was using his face to torture you. Angry that you could get no respite from these horrible visions in your mind. With closed eyes, he nuzzles into your hair, placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. Your eyes slip closed as you slowly relax into Frankie's hold, your heart rate slowing to a more normal rate as the flood of adrenaline clears your bloodstream, leaving exhaustion in its wake. Frankie coaxes you to bed again, holding you as close to him as he can, hoping his presence will somehow help to deter the nightmares.

In the morning, you wake to the smell of bacon and the feeling of an empty bed. You sit up and stretch before rubbing your eyes and yawning. Damn, your head and eyes hurt from the crying last night. Stupid nightmare... With a shake of your head, you move to get up to go get some medicine when you notice two Tylenol and a glass of water sitting on the nightstand. A smile tugs at the corners of your lips, knowing Frankie had left them out for you, and you take them, deciding to stay in bed a few more minutes and wait for Frankie. Your decision pays off when the door opens and Frankie walks in, a bed tray with pancakes, bacon, and a tall glass of chocolate milk in his hands.

"Morning amor. How are you feeling? I made your favorite blueberry pancakes." The smile that graces your lips he returns as he sets the tray across your lap before tucking a loose strand of hair back in place behind your ear, joining you on the bed.

"I'm alright as I can be. Tired of these stupid night terrors...I feel like I haven't slept in days." Leaning over, you press a quick kiss to his cheek before picking up a fork, digging in. The moan that leaves your lips borders on sinful as you taste the pancakes. Frankie's cooking always did amaze you. He chuckles as he leans back against the headboard, watching you.

"I'm glad you like the food." You nod with a smile and continue eating, content with the silence for now. That is, until a burning question bubbles to the forefront of your thoughts. "Frankie...have...have you ever had a dream...about a girl who looked like me?" The question comes softly from your lips, as if you are nervous to even ask it. It seemed so silly hearing it out loud.

"No, I can't say I have...but the day I met you, I could have sworn I had met you before. But there was no possible way that could have been." His voice is contemplative, and when you turn to look at him He's looking off to nowhere, lost in thought.

"What do you mean you could have sworn you've met me before?" He blinks a few times and looks back at you, shrugging.

"Everything about you was familiar. Your eyes, your laugh, your smile. Hell, even the way you stood, one hip cocked and your hand resting on it...It was all just so familiar, like I had met you a long time ago. Weird, I know."

"I'm the one having dreams about a guy who looks like a douche bag version of you trying to kill me, and you think familiarity is weird?" A pink tint creeps up his cheeks as he sputters out a reply.

"W-well when you put it that way..." You chuckle and shake your head, chasing a blueberry around your plate with your fork.

"Maybe...we have met before...just not...here." If he didn't think you were crazy before, he certainly would now.

"What, like a soulmate? A past life?" You nod, not looking up. You didn't want to see him looking at you like you were crazy. "Now that's an idea...it would explain a lot, wouldn't it?" Another nod, and his hand reaches around to lift your chin, turning your face to him. A gentle smile graces his beautiful face and you can't help but return it. "If that's the case, then I'm glad I found you again, soulmate." The giggle that escapes your lips only helps to widen his smile before he presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

You had heard great things of the Prince of Dorne. The Red Viper, Oberyn Martell. He was as fearsome as he was gentle. Ruthless as he was loving. His skills with poisons and fighting spears were unmatched, as was his sexual appetite. Or so you had heard. King's Landing was always full of whispers and rumors, so much so that it was hard to know just what was fact, and what was fiction. Not that it mattered, the rumors never affected you. You kept your head down, and did as you were told, assisting the Lanisters whenever need be. It was the best way to stay out of trouble, and to ensure your head stayed rightfully upon your shoulders.

But why all of the hubbub about Prince Oberyn all of a sudden? Have you missed an announcement? Cersei would have your head on a pike before the candles melted through if you embarrassed her by forgetting to outfit a chamber. A cold sweat breaks out over your skin and your heart races in your chest at the thought, your feet carrying you swiftly down the halls in search of Tyrion. He would know what was going on.

You find the man talking with his guard, and clear your throat softly as you approach, hands folded respectfully in front of you. Their conversation drops as Tyrion looks to you with a smile.

"Forgive my interruption, but I have heard many more whispers today than usual of The Red Viper of Dorne... Have...Have I missed a notice to prepare an extra chamber...?" Tyrion shakes his head and comes over to place a hand over your folded ones.

"Fear not, you've missed nothing. The chambers were already prepared for his visit." The tension melts from your shoulders and you nod, bowing your head before standing upright again.

"Thank you for informing me. I shall return to my duties then. Good day." You turn quickly as Tyrion bids you farewell, resuming your duties as needed.

The fight was the only thing anyone in the halls discussed. Oberyn was to champion for Tyrion in trial by combat with The Mountain. The whole of King's Landing was to attend to spectate, including the workers through the castle. It had been a long time since the walls buzzed with such energy, and you followed along quietly to the viewing stand reserved for the chambermaids. Perhaps you would now see if the words of the great Red Viper of Dorne were true. You watch with baited breath as he strides into the arena, his armor light, a fighting spear in his grip that he twirls with such grace it takes your breath away. His smile is confident, bordering on cocky, and you feel a twinge of fear for him. He was so small...The Mountain would crush him.

The fight was certainly something to behold, and for a moment, it seemed as though Oberyn's dexterity would win him the match. Till the tables turned... It was a gruesome sight, The Mountain was known well for his utter brutality. The cries of pain from the prince under his grip tore at your heart, and when his skull finally gave, painting the arena red, something inside you broke. Tears streamed down your cheeks, your hand covering your gaping mouth as your heart ached in your chest.

You had never met this man, and yet at the witnessing of his death, it felt as if you had lost a part of yourself.

"An intern? A FUCKING intern? What the fuck do I need with an intern?!" Maxwell stood from his desk, pacing behind it, a hand in his pocket while the other rubbed at his face. "I’m so close, SO CLOSE, to having the world in the palm of my hand, and you want me to take on AN INTERN?!" He snapped at the poor secretary who stood in the center of the room, trembling in her high heels.

"M-Mr. Lord...A-appearances are everything, sir, and I believe taking on an intern would brighten your appearance in the public eye even more so. She would be none the wiser, and you could use her to take care of your less important operations, sir." The secretary quivered under Maxwell's gaze as he stopped to stare at her, eyes hard as flint. Slowly, so slowly, a predatory smile works its way across his face, and he stalks forward, lifting the secretary's chin.

"You are an absolute genius, where would I be without you?" He shoves her head away and she stumbles back a step before catching herself. "Bring her on. Get her set up on payroll, benefits, whatever she needs, then send her here to talk with me." The secretary nods, scribbling down notes on a piece of paper before looking back up to her boss who has taken to looking out the window of his high rise office. "Well don't just stand there, chop chop!" She shoos her from the room and she leaves in a rush, heels clicking down the hall as she goes to find you.

The lobby of the Lord building was absolutely massive, and appropriately ornate for what you knew of Maxwell's image. Nervous fingers played across your pencil skirt, smoothing down the nonexistent wrinkles in the material as you waited for the secretary you had met to return with her answer. The sound of heels clicking down the hallway draws your attention and a cordial smile graces your lips as the secretary returns.

"Good news!" she claims in an overly excited tone. "Welcome to the company! Mr. Lord has agreed to take you on as his intern. I'll take your information and get you set up with payroll while you come to meet the man behind it all." You nod, fishing a manila envelope of all of your information out of your shoulder bag, handing it over. "Excellent. Now, follow me. A few pointers," she says matter of factly. "Speak only when spoken to and NEVER interrupt. Mr. Lord hates being interrupted. You'll refer to him as Mr. Lord or Sir unless instructed otherwise. Keep your answer short and to the point. Are we clear?" You swallow thickly, suddenly astronomically more nervous than you were just a moment ago.

"Crystal."

"Excellent." She takes you to a large set of double wooden doors, knocking with three quick raps before opening the door. "Mr. Lord, here she is." The secretary ushers you in, placing you in the center where she stood trembling only minutes before, stepping off to the side as Maxwell strides up to you, circling around you as he sizes you up.

"Not bad," he muses. "Not bad at all." His gaze was searing, causing your blood to race in your veins. You were pretty, he had to admit, and that would definitely be a bonus if you were going to be around him every damn day. Something familiar tugged at the back of his mind. Your eyes or your jawline, maybe, but he quickly chased that thought away. "So, you're going to be my new intern!" He claps his hands together. "Your work starts now. Follow me." He places a hand on your shoulder, leading you to what you assumed was where you were going to be sitting for the rest of this internship.

You blink and stumble for a moment, a firm yet chilling grip catching you to right you.

"Careful there doll. Can't have you ruining that pretty face of yours cause you tried to kiss the carpet." Max laughed that ultra-fake, condescending laugh he had, letting you go as you righted yourself. Adjusting your pencil skirt, you nod and take a deep breath. This was all way too familiar. The outfit, the internship, the guide through the office to a desk by your boss'. It was hands down the worst case of deja vu you have EVER had.

"Mr. Phillips-"

"Call me Max, doll. You're my new intern, and I'd like to think of you and I more as friends than as boss and employee." He grins at you and you shiver at the sight of his fangs.

"...Max. Uhm...does...does any of this seem a little too familiar to you? Like you've been here before?" His look back at you with a look that makes you wish you could just melt into the carpet and disappear.

"I'm here every day, what are you talking about?"

"N-no I mean like, do you ever get deja vu? Because I'm having it bad right now." That trademark grin spreads across Max's face again as he seats you at your desk, perching himself up on the front of it so he's looking down at you.

"My whole unlife is deja vu, dollface. It's round two for me." That damn smile never leaves his lips as he watches you put your papers in the drawers of your desk. "Any other silly little questions, or should I just let you get started on your first day?" The tips of your ears were on fire and you shook your head.

"Nothing else, Max. Thank you, I'll get to work." He claps and nods, hopping off your desk.

"Alright, doll. You'll have a set of reports for editing in your inbox. Have them formatted, printed, and on my desk before you head out today." You nod, starting up your desktop as he makes his way from your now shared office. This...was going to be a long internship.

Max makes his way down the hall, that fake, used car salesman smile falling from his lips as soon as he is out of eye-shot. He stalks down the hall to his own personal bathroom, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary.

"Fuck!" The acoustics of the tiled room cause his voice to reverberate, sharp in his ears. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" He white knuckles the edge of the sink, the porcelain cracking under his hands. It was her. It was FUCKING her! Of all the people who could come to intern at this company, it had to be his soulmate. Because of course it did! Why would the universe decide anything else?! The frustrated vampire closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. She didn't know, everything was going to be fine. Can't have a soulmate when you don't have a soul. Checkmate, universe. Yeah, that was what he would do, he’d ignore it. Problems always went away when you ignored them, right?

Wrong.

"I need to stop watching vamp movies before bed," Javier Peña groans, sitting up from his bed. "Fucking dreaming about them now.." He continues to grumble to himself as he gets ready for the day. It was going to be a long one. The DEA had caught a lead on Escobar, and were running a raid this afternoon. He needed to be on his game today, this could be the chance they needed to finally get that bastard. He slips his gun into the waistband of his jeans, grabs his leather jacket, and heads to work.

Hostages. Of course they had fucking hostages.

"This complicates things," Steve whispers from behind him.

"No shit," the exasperated DEA agent snaps back, eyes scanning the entrance to the building. They had no idea how many Escobar's men had in there, and they needed to get them all out. Javier was tired of seeing innocents die, caught up in something because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. "I'm going around back," Javi hisses, ducking around Steve to find the back entrance. "You stay here with the team. First gunshot, you move. Be smart, clear every room, move fast." Steve nods, taking Javi’s place as Javi slinks along the back perimeter.

He was right, there was a back entrance. He presses his ear to the door, trying to make out any sound and was met with only silence. Gun ready in one hand, he slowly opens the door, thanking whatever god existed that most of Escobar's men were idiots. They had forgotten to arm the back door. He moves along the wall to the hallway, noting two doors on the left, one on the right on the way to the main lobby. His heart pounds in his ears as he moves as quickly and quietly as possible, choosing the one door on the right first, seeing it open. He ducks in, gun sweeping over the room, but all he sees is you there, bound and gagged with duct tape. Your face was a mess, one eye blackened and dried blood from your nose crusted on the tape. Weary, broken eyes meet Javi's and his heart stutters. He had to get you out of here, and he was going to.

As you look at him, your eyes widened at the shadow moving down the hall. Noticing, Javi presses himself just to the side of the doorway, waiting for the man to make his way into the room before firing off two quick shots to his head. The man slumped to the ground, lifeless as the house descended into chaos. Javi grabs you, dragging you gracelessly to the corner where he can better protect you. The action draws a soft whimper from you, fresh tears running down your cheeks.

Gunfire, screaming in both Spanish and English, crashing and banging...it was all too much for you and you began sobbing, quaking in absolute terror. Javier held you to him gently, his large hand holding your head against his chest.

"Calma, calma. Estás segura. Soy aquí," he whispers softly against your hair, eyes trained on the door still.

"Peña! It's clear! We got them all, where are you?" Steve. Thank god.

"First room on your left. Bring me the first aid kit!" You look up at agent Peña with glassy eyes, bloodshot from crying and he starts to peel the duct tape away from your mouth as gently as he can. "It's alright, you're safe now." His voice is gruff, but he speaks so gently to you. You can't stop the trembling in your limbs, the adrenaline running its course.

"I got the ki- holy shit what did they do to her?!" Steve joins Javi by your side, helping to undo the tape binding your arms and legs.

"Beat the shit out of her it looks like," Javi pulls an alcohol swab from the kit, tearing it open to wipe off a nasty looking cut along your brow and you hiss, pulling back at the sting. "Easy, chica. I know it hurts, I'm sorry." The whimper that leaves your lips has Javi nearly seeing red. Those bastards...

"Let's get her out of here. We need to get her to a hospital." Steve is already standing up, pulling out his phone.

"No! No, please no hospitals!" The words come out as a rasp, your throat feeling like sandpaper.

"Lady, you're beat to hell, we need to get you some medical attention." He argues, but the look in your eyes is desperate as you turn your gaze back to the DEA agent who saved you.

"Please, please no hospitals...I can't do it."

"Peña..." Javier cuts him off with a shake of his head.

"I'll take her back to my place and take care of her. She can stay there for now. Her place probably isn't safe right now anyways if they managed to get her." No hospitals...they weren't going to take you to the hospital. Relief washes over you and your limbs suddenly felt so heavy.

"Thank you..." You barely make out before your body gives out and you slump against Javi. His arms wrap around you after checking for a pulse, and he stands, scooping you up bridal style in his arm. He carries you out to his car, sitting you in the front seat and strapping you in, Steve arguing the whole way.

"Look, she said no hospitals, so we aren't going to the hospital. If things get worse, I'll take her, but for now, I'm taking her back to mine. You stay here and get the paperwork done. I'll call if anything changes." Steve opened his mouth to argue, but Javi was already in the truck, taking you to his little apartment on the quiet side of town.

It was surely a strange sight, the DEA agent carrying in your battered body to his apartment, and it raises the eyebrow of Old Woman Angela who gracefully still decides to mind her own business. Safe within the confines of his home, Javi carries you to his bed, laying you down gently before ridding you of your shoes in an attempt to grant you at least a little comfort.

"Let's get you cleaned up, querida." His words are soft and gentle, more so than he's used with anyone in a long time. Delicately, he wipes your face with a clean, damp cloth to rid you of the grime and blood that had built up, using caution around your deeply blackened eye. The sight of you so battered made his heart ache. He was used to violence, he was used to death. It followed him everywhere in this line of work. So why, then, was this hitting him so much harder than any of the others. Why did he feel this overwhelming need to protect you, to keep you safe from all the world's atrocities? He shakes his head and mutters to himself in Spanish as he moves to sanitizing and dressing your wounds. Once you were as cared for as he could make you, he sits, watching your sleeping form. The subtle rise and fall of your chest as you sleep gives him at least a little comfort. His hand moves as if of its own will, taking yours gently. They're so soft, and they fit so perfectly in his, almost like your hands were made to be held in his. It felt so right, so natural. And that was something Javier Peña had never felt before, not like this. In your sleep, so gently he almost thinks he imagined it, you squeeze his hand tighter.

Javier Peña didn't even know your name, but in his heart he knew one thing.

You were home.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" you call from your place on the couch, head dangling off, your feet where your head should be.

"Absolutely," came the gentle voice from the kitchen.

"And what about soulmates?"

"Those too. Why do you ask?" Marcus peeks his head out and chuckles when he sees you once again refusing to use furniture correctly.

"I dunno, just a thought I've been having recently. Like, how do people know when they've found their soulmate? It's not like we have a countdown timer that tells us."

"Well," your boyfriend comes to join you on the couch and you immediately right yourself to lay with your head in his lap, his fingers moving to play with your hair. "It's one of those things you just know. Like, they walk into the room and all you can see is them. Their voice and laugh makes you feel like you're floating, and every time you see them a warmth spreads through you from the tip of your head all the way to your toes. And the feel of their skin is the most right thing in the world, like anywhere you go, so long as you're with them, you're home." His gentle smile down at you does just that, filling you with that warmth it always does. "Some people even say they have dreams of past lives where they've met their soulmates before."

"Have you?"

"I have." His voice is so assured, it takes you by surprise, and you must have worn that look on your face because Marcus laughs before tapping your nose.

"...Tell me about her. Or him, I guess." Curiosity was eating you alive. Who was Marcus' soulmate? Were you keeping him from them? Your heart sank at the thought that maybe...maybe he belonged to someone else through some greater proclaimed destiny.

"She's been so many things and been on so many adventures, love. She's flown through the expanses of space so many times, fought monsters and mined for rare jewels. She's aided weary warriors who were passing through her tiny village. She's survived terrifying experiences with drug lords and she's worked as a top agent in intelligence organizations. She's wept for a lover she never knew, and she's been mourned by more than she will ever know." You watch his face with a child-like wonder, and when he finishes he looks at you, that glimmer you love so much still present in his eyes. "Have you ever had similar dreams?"

The question catches you by surprise and you find yourself contemplating. You had never really remembered dreams, but a few did stick out to you. "I remember...space. And the man I was with was cold and metal, but his voice was gentle. And I remember...I remember working in offices with men in suits I could never afford, but who bought me nice things to say the words they could never get to come out. And...a scar. I remember a scar." Wandering fingers reach up to trace over Marcus' eye. "I remember my first thought when I saw you was 'Didn't he have a scar?' But the thought was so out of place, I had no idea what to do with it. I had never met you before! So I...forgot it." All through your talking, Marcus' smile has just grown wider, as if he's waiting for you to catch one of his jokes.

When it all clicks into place, you sit up, your mouth slightly open as memories flood your mind's eyes. A wet and weary warrior, a charming cowboy, a fearsome hunter covered in metal, a talkative gentleman whose every sentence was poetry, a ruthless killer, a soft pilot with a heat of gold, a grand prince gone too soon, a pompous billionaire, a sarcastic frat boy, and a gentle DEA agent all flashing through your mind in rapid succession. Your eyes tear up with the memories that are yours but at the same time aren't, and you reach up to cup his face. Words die on the tip of your tongue as you struggle to force them out.

Marcus takes the burden from you, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. It's heavy, full of so many memories, so many moments, so many lifetimes. It's so magnificent it sucks the air from your lungs and you break away to gasp for breath as Marcus presses his forehead to yours.

"Y...You're my...soulmate..." The words are barely a breath, but he hears them all the same and nods, pecking your lips once more as he gathers you into his arms. You melt into the grasp, more comfortable here than anywhere else on earth.

"Yes, my love. And no matter the lifetime, no matter the universe, no matter the struggle...The forces that be will always bring me to you. Always wait for me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list is open!

Requests are Open!

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buckyodinson · 4 years ago

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hello, it’s me, again! i read the hc about the age gap with frankie and i’m obsessed with it (and it’s also so much funnier) so i’m here to ask it again but maybe with all pedro’s boys✨? tbh you’re the only one who write about it so... can u write it (funny, fluff.. i don’t care the way, feel u free to choose) if u have time 💕🤧 love u xx

Hey!! Thank you, I’m glad you liked the Frankie headcanons!! Here are some little ones for the rest of the boys

Age Gap with the boys

Din

since you’ve never seen Din without the helmet on

he’s super nervous about the age difference between the pair of you

you have a rough idea of how old he is but the gap doesn’t bother you

you have no idea what he looks like

your attraction to Din is all about his personality and who he is inside

you couldn’t care less about how old he is

but Din is in full-blown panic mode when the time eventually comes for you two to be married

once the Mando’a vows are spoken, he places your hands on his helmet and holds his breath as you remove it

you’re met with a beautiful face painted with worry

sure, he’s got some lines on his forehead underneath that helmet hair

and yeah, there’s bags under his eyes

he looks his age

but he’s beautiful to you

and when you say that, little crows feet appear by his eyes as his face scrunches up into a smile

and while you call him ‘old man’ fairly often when he’s being a grump, or he complains about his knees

he knows you don’t mean it

and that you don’t care he’s older than you

and he loves you endlessly for it

Whiskey

you were a younger agent that Jack fell for while he was training you

you would often make flirty comments around Jack, hoping he’d bite

but he never did

and you gave up after a while, thinking he didn’t find you attractive

but Jack was just so conflicted

because he really liked you

but didn’t want you to think he was abusing his power over you

and he finally got the nerve to ask why you’d stopped the flirting, and you admitted you felt like your feelings weren’t reciprocated

and he pulled you into a breathtaking kiss

pulling away with a sly smirk

“sure I’m not too old for you, sugar?”

you pulled him back in for a kiss and that was answer enough

there are awkward moments on missions where you have to go undercover together

once you were picked as a sugar daddy and baby type pair for an undercover mission and you really had to reign Jack in, because he was gonna have some choice words with Champ about it

but then the mission swung around, and when he saw the outfit you’d be wearing

he was less opposed to the whole idea

and more proud of himself that he had you all to himself despite your age difference

Javi

Javi pursues you endlessly (and you secretly love it)

he knows what people must think about him but he really doesn’t care

he’s already got a reputation, who gives a shit about what else people want to say about him

you’re a badass agent who has chewed him out for his shit more times than he can count on his fingers

and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on when you got hot-headed with him

he knows you’re trying to assert some kind of authority, since other agents at the DEA look down on you because of your age and also because you’re a woman

and Javi doesn’t mind it at all

one day, you’re in the records room together looking for a particular file, and Javi is crowding your space so you shove him away

“what is your problem?” you growl as he comes back closer to you again

you stare each other down for what feels like hours before he catches your gaze drop to his lips for a split second

and that’s all it takes for him to crash his lips onto yours

you keep the relationship secret, mostly because you know nobody will respect you as a serious agent if you’re sleeping with your partner

so you still have little tiffs at work to keep the act up

but it makes going home to one another all the more fun

but Javi has a spring in his step after you two get together

he feels like he’s still got it

and you make him feel younger, which makes him happy too

Ezra

he meets you on the Pug, when he’s looking for a crew member for his next assignment

he’s entranced by you right away, but doesn’t act on his feelings

why would you want him?

he’s older than you

and then there’s the arm situation too

so he’s pretty shocked when halfway through the job, you admit your feelings while you’re bleeding out in your tent after a run-in with other prospectors

“y-you love me?”

you can only nod before the pain becomes too much and you pass out

the next day, you wake to Ezra tenderly running his fingers up your arm while he lays next to you, and you remember what you said to him before you passed out

“are you positive I am the object of your affection, little bird? or was that just the pain medication coursing through your bloodstream?” he mumbles when he notices you are awake

“I’m sure, Ezra.”

“well, I am enamoured with you too, birdie”

it’s been a few years since then, and when he looks in the mirror, he’s still not entirely sure why you’re with him

but then you come up behind him and wrap your arms around him

“the years have made you wise, Ezra. that’s why I love you the way I do.”

you kiss across his shoulders and he melts into your touch

he’s still confused, but happy nonetheless

Maxwell

Maxwell was known for his rendezvous with young assistants at his company

and the press often comment on his proclivity for a woman younger than himself

he doesn’t necessarily see it as a conquest...

okay, maybe he does

he knows most of the women he dates or takes to bed are in it for the chance to be Mrs Lord and be treated to a lavish lifestyle for the rest of time

but you were not like that, which is why Maxwell had to have you

you acted completely indifferent to him when you started working at his company

he made advances, and you turned him down, hoping it wouldn’t cost you the job

but Maxwell kept you around, promoting you as time went on

and after a while, you did develop feelings for him, seeing a softer side to him he often didn’t show others

and eventually, you ended up together

and he loves nothing more than showing you off a big fancy galas

you know some people look at you like you’re trashy and just with Maxwell for his money

but after a while, you couldn’t care less

because you were happy

Oberyn

Oberyn doesn’t care

he knows the people of the North look down on his lifestyle

but he is happy with how he lives his life

and the people of Dorne don’t frown at his choice of you

and they certainly don’t treat you unkindly for being with Oberyn

you’re sure the people up at King’s Landing would accuse you of trying to worm your way to the throne in Dorne

but Oberyn knows you truly love him for who he is inside, not his status

you’re a fair bit younger than him

but with Oberyn, it doesn’t feel it

he’s got an incredible stamina, both in combat and in bed

and he gives the younger men a run for their money (in both senses too)

you balance each other out nicely

he’s experienced and shows you the ropes for many things in regards to life in Dorne

but you also show him new things he’s never tried before

and he loves it

so yeah, you’re both unbothered and having a great time

Masterlist

Permanent taglist: @castieltrash1 @fioccodineveautunnale @mrsparknuts @fleurdemiel145 @hp-marvel-starwars-kotlc

(please message or ask if you want to be added to or removed from a taglist!)

#pedro headcanons #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian headcanons #din djarin x reader #din djarin headcanons #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey headcanons #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels headcanons #javier pena x reader #javier pena headcanons #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect headcanons #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord headcanons #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell headcanons

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sunnys-rewatch-blog · 3 years ago

Text

S2, E1

"It's Alive"

TW: SA mention

Whoohoo! We have passed the landmark of reaching season 2. So far I am still very much enjoying myself, in spite of the many criticisms you see here.

It is absolutely horrible that someone had proof Jenna was SA-ing Toby and they did nothing to help or protect him.

"He's probably on his way to the meat grinder!"- thanks for the visual, Em. I guess her and Alison bonded over being fucking morbid and watching Mr. Meaty.

They were blackmailing Ian? Doesn't blackmail imply some kind of manipulation or extortion? Oh, the money!

Are the adults really trying to take these kids to a therapist as a display for public sympathy? No wonder they're so resistant and feel like it's punitive! This is something that should come from a place of compassion and care! It's so infuriating, by making them feel like they're completely being forced into it you're setting them up to resist treatment instead of getting help. How was Alison not traumatized with the knowledge that they would care so little about her death?

Fuck. Off. Peter Hastings.

Wasn't anyone gonna tell me you can buy breast milk online, or was I just supposed to find out from PLL? I looked this up and it's actually true. I don't know what to do with this information, but now I have it.

Aria is, realistically, going through so much right now and both Ezra and the showrunners think Ezria is so goddamn important we have to have this little "Are we over?" chat like. Right now. Man, I get it in a way, but sometimes you need to be okay with being on the backburner.

Where even are the Cavanaugh parents?

Pam, truly, could not be any more wrapped up in herself. What is she thinking, with this move to Texas? I understand the family stuff and wanting to be with your husband, and even wanting to leave this town where your neighbor's kid died and weird shit keeps happening- but Emily is kind of...involved in a murder case. She's been questioned several times in regards to this investigation at this point, and that doesn't show signs of stopping, especially since she is also now involved in a second death. I don't know what they do if they need to conduct a police interview across state lines. Maybe it's as simple as making a phone call.

More to consider, though, is what do you know about queer acceptance in the area? That's something maybe a homophobic "cishet" (in quotes because it's implied but never confirmed, in-cannon) wouldn't think to ask, but there are places in the US where LGBTQ+ acceptance hasn't progressed much. From what I know- thanks to a friend who has Texan contacts and has visited at least once-the major cities are generally pretty accepting, but other areas vary wildly. It's still common for people to move to safer places, some have to stay closeted until they can do so. Queer culture is Googling the new city you're about to move to so you can assess your personal safety.

Side note- what even is Pam's profession? Is she supposed to just be a housewife? Last time I checked, "wallowing in self-pity and feeling personally victimized over my daughter's sexuality" doesn't pay very well.

...how much time has passed since Lucas left to go pick up Caleb? How much school has he missed? Someone should be looking for him, too.

Is this supposed to be group therapy? Or are the writers just banking on having an audience that doesn't know how therapy works?

Caleb sure does fall hard, fast. He really went all the way back to Rosewood just so that Hanna wouldn't think he left without saying "Goodbye."

And, to be fair, Mona ripping up and trashing his letter isn't anything that most good friends wouldn't do. If they weren't trying so hard to sell us "Haleb= True Love," this would be portrayed as commendable.

I know the whole "fake dating to true love" pipeline is a trope, but they do it with at least two of the Liars and it's not really satisfying in either case. In my opinion, it sucks all of the enjoyment out of it for the narrative to keep it a secret from the audience, there's way more joy in it to watch a scheme unfold- especially if both characters have an investment in the farce. The way it's done here doesn't build tension, so when the boiler explodes it seems sudden and out of place.

The girls have had one complete session with this therapist and she already thinks they should be forcibly separated.

Why would the name they picked out be something only Ian would know? I don't think Melissa even once implied this name was a secret. Maybe it makes sense in her mind that no one else could have possibly been told before she was told and couldn't have found out after.

Even though I don't find Ian likeable, and he's kinda squicky going after young girls, I almost wish he had been alive. I want to see what effect that would have on the story.

#anti ezria #pretty little liars #pll #pll rewatch #pll spoilers #alison dilaurentis #spencer hastings #aria montgomery #emily fields #hannah marin #melissa hastings #ian thomas #peter hastings #opinions and commentary #reviews #analysis

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rmtndew · 4 years ago

Text

All I’ve Ever Known ~ Chapter 3

Summary: Fiona’s life is a shattered fraction of what it used to be. She’s trying to navigate her new normal when she meets Detective Marshall, who gives her something more to look forward to.

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This was intended as a short drabble but it got out of hand and became a multi-chapter story instead. It’s my first Marshall fic and the first fan fic that I’ve written in over a decade. The title comes from the song ‘All I’ve Ever Known’ from Hadestown: ‘I was alone so long, I didn’t even know that I was lonely. Out in the cold so long, I didn’t even know that I was cold. Turned my collar to the wind, this is how it’s always been. All I’ve ever known is how to hold my own, but now I want to hold you, too.’

Tag list - @hollydaisy23, @readings-of-a-cavill-lover, @onlyhenrys, @omgkatinka, @speakerforthedead0-blog, @gearhead66, @thethirstyarchive, @oddsnendsfanfics, @littlerinoa, @agniavateira, @aaescritora,

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Wednesday morning we had so many orders to fill that I was left filling the one for the police station all by myself. I saved Marshall’s for last and when I knew Darcy wasn’t looking (not that she would have minded), I wrote a quick note on the paper sleeve the cookies went in.

‘Thank you again for Saturday night - Fiona’

Then I put in two extra cookies in the sleeve and placed it in the box before sealing it with the store sticker.

When I arrived at the station, I kept my eye out for Marshall, hoping to see him again. Despite being convinced that he wasn’t interested in me and that nothing would come out of my crush on him, I hadn’t been interested in anyone since Ezra had broken up with me and it felt nice to know that I was capable of feeling things again.

I worked quickly, doing my best to not be sloppy, as I tried to get done before Marshall could come in. I wanted an excuse to take his lunch to his office. I craved the opportunity to talk to him one on one again, even if it was short. I managed to set all of the orders out and pack up my stuff before he came in, so I grabbed his box and excitedly made my way towards his office. I was looking for his name on the doors and almost passed his up because his door was open, making the nameplate hard to see. I backed up and stood in the doorway for a moment, deciding how to announce myself. I finally settled for knocking on the outside wall. There was no answer. I waited for about half a minute before stepping in. I looked around, but his office was empty.

My heart sank a little, but I went to his desk so that I could leave his lunch on it, but it was almost completely covered in files and folders and notepads. There was a small space right in front of his chair that was empty with the exception of a yellow Post It note. Since his desk was full, I decided to leave the box on his chair, but when I circled around to it, I glanced at the note, then did a double take.

‘Thanks for lunch, Fi.’

I immediately started blushing. I almost wanted to take the note with me but I didn’t. I left his lunch and got out of there before someone came by and wondered why a delivery girl was in one of the detective’s offices smiling like a lunatic.

The rest of my day, to put it mildly, was a real dumpster fire. I got a flat tire and had to change it on a busy road where no one stopped to help, but a few people did honk. Back at work, I burnt my forearm taking bread out of the oven. Then, when I checked my phone before getting in the car to go home, I saw that I had two unread texts from Demi. One was cold but simply said that being friends with me was no longer working for her. The second, sent an hour later, went into greater detail and basically circled back on her comment the other night about me being ‘immature’. I tried to hold it together, I tried not to let it bother me, but I couldn’t. I sat in my car and cried. It was the only safe space where I could cry like that in peace. Or at least I thought it was. After several minutes, there was a knock on my window. I expected to see Darcy checking in on me. Instead it was Marshall. I was so surprised to see him that I stopped crying immediately and let out a little squeak.

His brow was knitted together in concern as he made a hand motion for me to roll my window down. I did and he lowered his head to look me in the face. “Are you alright?”

I tried to smile and nodded, but then I realized how silly that was. No one cries in their car when they’re fine. It wouldn’t take a skilled detective to figure that one out. So I paused, let out a breath, then shook my head. “No. I’m having a bad day,” I said. “But it’ll pass.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Can I…?” He pointed to my passenger’s seat.

“Yeah.” I unlocked my doors and wiped at my tears, trying to dry my cheeks as he walked around. When he sat in my car, his knees went up to his chest and his eyes went wide for a second, looking like a confused puppy. I laughed. “You can adjust the seat with the bar in the front,” I said. “Sorry, I should have slid it back before you got in. Mom’s the only person who sits there and she’s pretty tiny.”

“It’s alright,” he said, pulling on the bar under the seat and sending it back almost all the way. He let out a relieved breath as he stretched his long legs out.

“Why…” I started and trailed off. “Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“So you’re not here for your case?”

“No. I wanted to talk to you, but I didn’t have your number. I called here and your boss said that if I hurried, I might catch you.”

I turned in my seat so that I could look at him better. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

“Will you tell me about your day first?” he asked, reaching out to put his hand on my forearm, right on my burn. It hurt and I instinctively pulled my arm away. He looked confused, his wide puppy eyes coming back. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to hurt you. I shouldn’t have -”

“No, you’re fine. It’s not you.” I pushed my sweater sleeve towards my elbow and held my arm out for him to see. “I burnt myself earlier. I was getting bread out of the oven.”

“Is that what you were upset about?”

“It’s one of the reasons. It’s just been a horrible afternoon.”

“Can I make an offer that might help?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He looked at me, pursing his lovely lips for a moment, then said, “Would you let me buy you coffee?”

I laughed. “Out of pity?”

He smiled, a full beautiful smile, showing his teeth. “If that’ll make you say yes, then sure.”

“Oh,” I said, heat creeping up my ears. “Oh. You really want to take me out to coffee?”

He swallowed. My eyes were instantly drawn to his Adam’s apple as it moved. “If you would let me, yes.”

I suddenly felt shy and couldn’t look at him. “I, um… I would love to.”

“Would right now be a good time for you?”

I nodded. “It would be perfect,” I said. “Unless it interferes with your job and your case.”

“We actually closed the case today.”

I smiled. “So you had the good afternoon,” I said. “Congratulations.”

“It hardly feels like a victory but I’m pleased that it’s finally closed and to have answers for the family.”

“You don’t strike me as the type of person who finds victory in any case as long as there are victims.”

He let out a breath and shook his head. “No, I don’t.” He rubbed his hands on his thighs, almost nervous looking. “So, coffee?”

“Coffee,” I said. “Do you have anywhere particular in mind?”

“There’s a place called South York, do you know it?”

My anxiety hit me in a rush. I was caught between excited nervousness from the offer of coffee with Marshall, to a sudden kick of nerves at the mention of South York. I was trying to figure out a way to politely suggest another place without getting into detail as to why, when he caught my eye and smiled.

“You don’t like it?” he asked.

“No, I do, it used to be my favorite.”

“Used to be?”

“I, um, I just had a bad experience the last time I was there.”

His brow furrowed again as he looked at me more intently. “I have a feeling you’re referring to more than just a bad cup of coffee, yeah?”

I nodded. “But I feel like every time I’m around you, I end up telling you more about myself than you’re bargaining for, so I won’t go into details.”

The corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smirk. “Well, I am a detective and getting people to talk is a big part of my job, so maybe that bit is on me,” he said. “And just because I’m not great at talking doesn’t mean that I mind other people who are.”

“That’s the thing - I’m not, it’s just when I’m around you.”

“Is that a bad thing, though?”

I rubbed my neck. “I don’t know. My ex-boyfriend used to hate it when I rambled, so it can get annoying, I guess.”

“Is that why you broke up with him? Because he was an idiot?”

I smiled. “I should have dumped him because he was an idiot, but no, he actually broke up with me,” I said, my smile faltering. “Right after I got the call about my dad’s wreck.” I managed to look him in the eye. “We were on a date at South York.”

I watched his eyes change as he took in what I said. There was no more soft puppy, it was all angry ocean like it had been that night in the bar. I hated admitting to myself how much I liked that look when I knew he was angry on my behalf.

“He broke up with you after you found out about your father dying?” he asked, his voice tight.

“Dad wasn’t… He died later that night. I just knew that it was a bad car wreck. I went into shock after Mom called me, so I was calm when I told him what happened. He said later that he didn’t think it was that serious because I wasn’t reacting like it was. But the whole time he was driving me to the hospital to drop me off, he kept asking if I understood what was going on, that we were through.” I shook my head. “I had never wanted to throat punch someone as much as I did him, and if he hadn’t been driving, I probably would have.”

“For a completely unrelated reason, I need his full name and last known address.”

I laughed. “There’s a very big part of me that would actually love to give that to you.”

“What’s stopping it and what can I do to change it?”

“I don’t know that you can change it because what’s stopping it is the other, bigger part of me that would rather start with a clean slate and not be the woman you have to rescue from a bar and has the idiotic ex-boyfriend who needs to be taught a lesson.”

“You’re not either of those.”

“I’m just the wreck you find crying in her car and won’t stop talking?”

He shook his head, his brown curls bouncing at the nape of his neck. “No. You’re the beautiful woman who seems to be holding everything together as best as she can and is having a hard day,” he said. “And who left me a lovely surprise of extra cookies.”

I could hear the blood rushing in my ears as my heart began pounding. I stretched my palms out on my legs, trying to covertly wipe the sweat that was suddenly pouring from them. I swallowed hard. “You think I’m beautiful?” I asked, my voice a rough whisper.

“You are beautiful.” He said it like a fact.

I looked at him from under my lashes, feeling too shy to look at him straight on. “You’re not too shabby yourself.”

South York had been my favorite coffee shop since my senior year of high school, but that afternoon my new favorite became Birchwood Coffee. Sitting at a table by the window with Marshall, feeling the last of the afternoon’s sun shining through, warming me up as we drank coffee while we sat talking was the loveliest feeling that I’d had in a long time. I’d forgotten what it was like to have someone interested in me. Someone who cared enough to ask me questions and actually listen. I’d been lonely for so long, I’d forgotten that that’s what it was. I thought it was just a part of me, like my anxiety used to be, like my grief was. But talking to him I realized it was something far easier to sweep away. At least he made it seem easier.

“Do you mind if I ask about your daughter?” I said.

“What would you like to know?”

“You told me that she was thirteen, but I don’t think you told me her name.”

“It’s Faye.”

“That’s pretty,” I said. “What’s she like?”

He ran a hand over his beard, his fingers combing through it while he thought. He gave a small laugh as he let his hand fall back to his thigh. “She’s stubborn and strong willed, like me. But she’s smarter, far smarter than I was as a teenager. A lot more social, too. Which doesn’t make it easy to keep up with all of her friends, but I try,” he said. “And she can hold her own. She won’t take crap from anyone. Her mother and I got called into a meeting at her school not long ago. A boy had flipped up a girl’s skirt and tried taking a picture. Faye pushed him and he broke his nose when he fell. His parents wanted an apology for assaulting him. She refused. She said that if they were going to excuse him harassing a girl and attempting to violate her privacy as ‘boys just being boys’, then her physical assault to prevent him from doing that was just ‘girls having to be girls’ and that she should get the same slap on the wrist that he got. I said, ‘good girl’ and we both got kicked out.”

I smiled. “Did she get in trouble?”

He shook his head as he picked up his coffee cup. “No. My ex-wife is far more level headed - not to mention better at arguing her point - and she handled it.”

“Is it hard spending time with her with your job? I imagine you don’t have the typical nine to five hours,” I asked as he took a sip of his coffee. Again, my eyes were drawn to his Adam’s apple. I tried to drag my sight away before he caught me staring.

“We make it work,” he said. “I try to take her to school as often as I can and she stays over on occasion.”

He had an errant curl that drooped down over his forehead and I had to restrain myself from reaching out to brush it back. Something about him inspired a desire in me to take care of him. I wanted to make sure he got enough sleep, drank enough water, ate right and regularly while working a case. I couldn’t explain it.

He set his cup down on the table, his hand still clutching it. His arm was close enough to my own that was resting on the table in front of me that I could feel the heat from it. “How’s your mum?” he asked.

“She’s...okay. She’s going a bit stir crazy and keeps talking about going back to work, but I don’t know if she’s ready for it.”

“What did she do?”

“She taught music. The violin,” I said. “That’s how she met my dad; they both played the violin in the city orchestra when they were in college.”

“Did he teach as well?”

“No. He was a physics engineer. I think music was just a way to shut off the analytical part of his brain for a while.”

“Do you play the violin, too?”

I laughed. “No. That was my form of rebellion, I refused to play it or any stringed instrument.” I tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I did play the piano, though.”

“You did? Not anymore?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t played in the last couple of years. With everything going on, it just slipped to the bottom of my list.”

He nodded. “That’s understandable.”

“Do you play any instruments?”

He laughed, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a smile, making a dimple visible on his cheek through his beard. “No, I was never patient enough for that. I was always outside, running about or riding bikes with my brother, getting up to no good.”

“Were you a trouble maker as a kid?”

He kept smiling as he nodded. “Nothing terrible. Not like the boys who stole or damaged other people’s property, but yeah, we got into our fair share of trouble.”

One of the women who worked at the shop came to our table to ask if we needed refills on our coffee. I passed but Marshall accepted. While she poured it for him, I couldn’t help but notice how she looked at him, how unnecessarily close she stood, how her touch lingered on his fingers as she handed his cup back. I couldn’t tell if he was really good at pretending not to notice her attention or if he was so used to having women fawning over him that he’d become oblivious to it. Something told me that it wasn’t the latter. The thought that I held his attention above all of the attractive options surrounding him made my heart flutter. I tried to hold back the smile that thought brought on, but I couldn’t. He noticed.

“You’re smiling. What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“I’m thinking that you’re a pretty good cure for a rotten day.”

Eventually, despite all the coffee he kept drinking, exhaustion seemed to catch up to Marshall. I noticed him yawning more and more, and his already limited talking slowing down. When I pointed it out, he apologized but admitted that he hadn’t slept much while working his case and that it was finally getting to him. I told him that I understood and that as much as I was enjoying myself, it would make me feel even better if he went home and got some much needed sleep. He agreed, but not before asking if we could exchange numbers. I’d never given mine out with so much enthusiasm.

We’d parked side by side in front of the shop and he walked me to my car. After I unlocked it, I looked at him. He was standing in front of me, the warm lights of the coffee shop shining behind him, lighting him up like some other worldly being. I couldn’t remember ever being more attracted to someone as much as I was him in that moment.

“Thank you for the coffee. I really enjoyed it,” I said.

“Yeah, I did, too,” he agreed. “Would you like to do it again sometime? Perhaps when I’ve had a little more sleep?”

I smiled. “I’d love to. I’m very interested in what a fully rested Marshall is like.”

He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly, smiling back at me. “I don’t know if he exists anymore, but I can offer you a partially rested one, how’s that?”

“I’ll take it.”

He nodded, chewing the corner of his lip for a moment. “Can I call you?”

It shouldn’t have caused butterflies when he asked me that, we’d just exchanged numbers after all, but the simple act of him asking made my stomach feel like a thousand butterflies had taken flight. I tried to stay calm looking on the outside, though.

“Yes. Of course. Whenever you’re free.”

He gave me a smile, the kind where it was more in his eyes than his mouth, and I loved what it did to his already beautiful eyes. “I’m probably going to go home and sleep for the next four days, so it may be some time after that, but I’ll call you.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I said. “Now go home and rest.”

His smile widened. “Yes, ma’am.”

I called out for Mom as soon as I got in the door. She had been in the kitchen and came and met me in the entryway after I locked the door. When I saw her, I let out a happy little squeal.

“A good date, I take it?” she said, beaming at me.

“He’s just so stinking handsome!” I exclaimed. “And he’s lovely. And he smells nice. And he’s so warm that you can feel it just by sitting next to him. And I swear he’d be the biggest teddy bear if I could ever get the chance to hug him.” I sighed. “Mom, I feel like a teenager. I’ve not had a crush on someone like this in my entire adult life. I never felt this way about Ezra. Ever.”

“I’m so happy for you, sweetie,” she said. “What Ezra did to you was wrong. Breaking up with you after Dad’s wreck was bad enough, but leaving your stuff on our front lawn while we were at the hospital, and then ransacking your apartment to get his stuff back while we were making funeral arrangements.” She shook her head. “I still get so angry when I think about it. No one deserves being treated that coldly, especially not you, Bird.”

“And you let him know it, didn’t you?” I said, taking off my coat. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on his face when you told him to sit down so that you could look him in the eye while you scolded him. That was a lot of anger jam packed in a tiny lady.”

“Am I going to have to do that with your Detective Marshall?”

“Scold him? I don’t think so. Sit him down so that you can look him in the eye? Absolutely,” I said “But it’s just Marshall, Mom. I’m not naive enough to believe he’s my anything after a single coffee date.”

I may not have believed it, but it didn’t keep me from wanting it.

#Henry Cavill #Walter Marshall #Night Hunter #Nomis #All I've Ever Known #Walter Marshall fan fiction #Henry Cavill fan fiction #Night Hunter fan fiction #Walter Marshall/OFC #HenryCavillFanfic #Walter MarshallFanfic

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simpbur · 4 years ago

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hello! i would like ur 40 song wiblur playlist

anon thank you so much for asking <333 while it would’ve been easier to just drop the link i have so many thoughts about everything so i explained why every single song has its spot on this list which was IMMENSELY fun for me

(also: if anyone does want the link i can provide both apple music and spotify but if u would like the apple music link i’d rather it be through dms or an ask off anon that i can make private!)

another also: i bolded all the songs for ease of perusing if you don’t want the director’s commentary and bolded + italicized the ones that i think fit Very Well

another another also: wrote the second bit of this on my laptop and the keyboard is p funky so if there are any typos or things that do not make sense i will try to fix them asap haha

saint bernard by lincoln: this is one of those like. Dream SMP Songs that i added because it fits into so many different relationships and plot lines and arcs but i think there’s some connection to c!wlbur somewhere out there. idk i asked my friend and he said to add it so this one goes out to him

amnesia was her name by lemon demon: ghostbur song ghostbur song! mostly comes from this lovely animatic

o valencia! by the decemberists: okay this is one of those songs that only really has one lyric that fits but is an absolutely banger so it’s here anyway. you’ll also notice a trend of quasi love songs that i relate to c!wilbur’s perception of l’manburg and i think this song shows this in a really cool way, esp with the chorus (‘and i swear to the stars i’ll burn this whole city down’ is The Line)

achilles come down by gang of youths: another one of those Dream SMP Songs. i think this fits better with c!tommy but i like it too much to remove it. this is a somewhat common trend with the earlier songs on this playlist (i’ve been building this thing since january, for reference)

brave as a noun by ajj: another Dream SMP Song. i think certain verses fit better than others when it comes to wilbur’s character but that ones that work really work

harness your hopes by pavement: a song that is one here for vibes alone. i have no idea what these lyrics mean. all i know is that i heard it, thought of c!wilbur, and put it on the playlist. thank you all for being here

evelyn evelyn by evelyn evelyn: sad-ist made this a tommy and tubbo song (as she should) so it’s validity on this playlist is questionable but folks used to compare it to wilbur and tommy’s relationship during the pogtopia arc and i think some points were made there

the execution of all things by rilo kiley: i’m so excited to get here because this was the first song i put on the playlist that i think really works and i thumb nailed an animatic for the last verse and november 16th so! i think it’s a good l’manburg song and the last verse has some good ghostbur lines (‘and lately you’re all alone with nothing left but sleep/but sleep never comes to you, it’s the guilt and forever wakefulness of the weak’)

i’m just your problem from adventure time: this ones a bit tricky since at is my favorite show of all time and i cannot detach this song from its in-show context very well but there is a very cool animatic with this song that landed it a spot on the playlist

man burning by josh ritter: almost became an animatic but the audio i wanted to use (which i recorded at a josh ritter concert and it’s just him and his guitar and there’s echo and it’s very haunting and pretty) has my stepbrother singing in the background and i could not edit it out so. that will probably not happen. but anyways the only hole i would pick in this song is that it’s mostly about self sabotage which isn’t really applicable but i think the imagery is cool

mamma mia by abba: here me out. here me out. this is another song that fits so well and i have spent so many hours thinking about this and somewhere there is a note on my phone explaining how every single line relates to c!wilbur’s entire arc from founding l’manburg to the resurrection (made when we thought gbur was going to get resurrected in january) and just. the metaphorical ‘you’ is l’manburg does this make any sense (another almost animatic except now that wilbur’s actually back it might become an actual animatic)

the other side of paradise by glass animals: no idea why this is here other than being a Dream SMP Song. it’s good tho

infinitesimal by mother mother: they saaaaay it stared with a big bang but they saaaaaaaay it came out of a small thing latelyyyyy i’ve been feeling like a big bang You Know

curses by the crane wives: had a thing drawn out for this song showing the comparisons between c!wilbur and c!niki because of the chorus and i think the last two lyrics of said chorus are the best thing about this one

lonely eyes by the front bottoms: gotta admit that i have no idea how this song got on here but i’ve come to associate it with ghostbur based on vibes alone. it’s a friendly song he’s a friendly ghost it works. the other tfb song coming up fits a bit better methinks

king of new orleans by better than ezra: not to put better than ezra on my c!wilbur playlist but like. something about the whole ‘tasing something up to let it fall’ motif makes me think

get me away from here, i’m dying by belle and sebastian: another almost animatic song (there’s a trend here). not only does the story told in this song work i like the lines ‘play me a song to set me free/nobody writes them like they used to so it may as well be me’ in relation to my l’manburg

montgomery forever by the front bottoms: certain bits and pieces of this song fit so well, specifically the chorus and those bits in the last two choruses Yeah (’montgomery forever and ever and ever and now they’re blowing it up/(x2)/as you started laughing and crying and trying to explain how all you want to do is leave’)

don’t look back in anger by oasis: out of all my almost animatic songs, this one got the furthest. the animatic, which I got pretty far in thumbnailing, was about wilbur and tommy and kind of drawing comparisons between their characters, also about the revolution in general. maybe i’ll finish that animatic one day idk

snow by ricky montgomery: i wish i had a link for this so bad but!! saw art on twitter!! with the lyric ‘bury me six feet in snow’!! and went ahfsdjfk!!

burning pile by mother mother: a Dream SMP Song. also a jam there’s no real specific connection for this one but i think it could fit in a couple of ways

rounds by the oh hellos: in the same position as snow except it was on tumblr..... @ whoever made this comic i saw these lyrics in your brain is massive and your art is incredible

lovely by mt. eddy: on here for vibes alone. there’s something in the lyrical content too, but my thoughts in that regard are not very fleshed out

adventures in solitude by the new pornographers: ah yes..... the song that prompted this all...... this is a beautiful and incredibly well written song and if you’re going to listen to any song off of this playlist i’d encourage you to listen to this one. it’s place of here is mostly cause of the chorus but the imagery in the verses could all represent a part of c!wilbur and i’d love to explore that more

caught in the middle by paramore: obligatory paramore song. i think it got on here because limbo = ‘middle’ but i’m not quite sure. on the verge of being deleted if i can find a better pmore song

delicate by damien rice: one of the oddest songs on this list and i am well aware that it sticks out like a sore thumb. a song that’s on here pretty much because of one lyric, which is ‘and why’d you sing hallelujah/if it means nothing to you’ which i related to both eret’s betrayal and how my l’manburg is hallelujah yknow

bang! by ajr: almost animatic song. i think we all know what the bang is here

somewhere only we know by lily allen: ik i said don’t look back in anger has the most potential to get made into an animatic but this song might actually take it place. on par with adventures in solitude in terms of how pretty of a song it is, and probably even moreso. it’s kind of turned into a ghostbur song in my head, and makes me cry like an infant child every time i hear it

a pearl by mitski: i cannot defend this song’s place on here past the line ‘it’s just that i fell in love with a war and nobody told me it ended’

eight by sleeping at last: the official c!wilbur song needs a spot on here <3 if i can dig up the clip of cc!wilbur talking about this song in relation to his character i’ll add it but until then yeah <3

always by rilo kiley: no idea why this is on here but it fits well!! could not tell you why!! banger!!

celebration guns by stars: it’s a hauntingly beautiful song about war, and kind of one of those that necessarily isn’t about wilbur but moreso his place in the story? idk how to explain it but yes

passerine by the oh hellos: it’s. it’s from the . the fic. yeah h

oh, you are the roots that sleep beneath my feet and hold the earth in place by bright eyes: added this after the real resurrection and i think it’s because fo the imagery? also the last verse

we are beautiful, we are doomed by los campesinos!: all i have to say is ‘i cannot emphasize enough that my body/is a badly designed, poorly put together vessel/harboring these diminishing, so called vital organs/i hope my heart goes first, i hope my heart goes first!’ has always made me think of pogtopia era wilbur :(

dead weight by jack stauber: no real connection other than eret played this song during a break during the ghostbur’s january ‘resurrection’ and i heard it and went :0

point me at lost lands by tired pony: gives me season on l’manburg vibes..... i love how free and passionate it sounds and that's p much the only reason it’s on this list haha

ghosting by mother mother: added this five seconds ago because i could not BELIEVE it was not on here. ghostbur song. mans sang it on that one stream with the reverb and everything. the lyrics ‘i will be kind and i’ll be sweet/if you stop staring straight through me’ hit particularly hard back when everyone thought that ghostbur was actually wilbur in disguise

#oh man. oh man #this was so fun ty anon #i'll do some spell checking after i write my english paper but for now take this #wooo boy #also if i interpreted canon wrong i do apologize i am here to have fun and think about fictional character #anon #ask

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zabrak-show · 4 years ago

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could you write something set when Maul captures the Ghost crew to get Ezra and Kanan to give him the holocron, and he and the reader are oddly drawn to each other?

The Holocrons of Fate | Reader x Maul

A/N: This was another request from quite some time ago. Sorry, it took so long anon! I hope you enjoy this nonetheless and thank you so much for requesting something from me <3

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Angst, Flirting between reader and Maul, Maul being aggressive (no more than the actual episode, but eh tagging it as a warning anyway), this does not completely follow the actual episode since i had to add the reader character and took some other liberties with it.

You were seated at your station in the cockpit when you saw a distress signal coming in from somewhere. You had just recently joined the crew of the Ghost to help intercept signals and keep an eye out for the goings-on of any enemies to the rebellion. Your rocky past had led you to have many connections in the galaxy to help you keep your finger on the pulse of much of the empire as well as several crime rings.

“I’m picking up a distress call from a ship, a Sphyrna class corvette.” You alerted Hera, who was at the helm of the ship in the pilot’s seat as usual.

“I saw that too. Let’s apprehend.” She said as her eyes narrowed and turned the ship towards the distress call.

As the Ghost closed in on the Sphyrna class corvette hammerhead ship, Hera called out to them on the comms.

“Hello, come in. We are here in response to the distress call.” She commanded into the comms and waited for a response. Nothing came back so she tried again.

“We are responding to your distress call. Please let us know how we can help you.” There was another long moment of silence and Hera was about to try again until a small cough and hoarse voice came through the speakers.

“Oh, bless you for coming. I thought I was a goner.” the voice sounded elderly and weak, but continued.

“The pirates took everything from us and left us all for dead. I am badly injured and the lone survivor. They destroyed the ship’s drive so I can’t fly it. Please, may I board your ship? You can drop me off at your earliest convenience. I won’t be any trouble.” Hera thought for a moment, pondering the question and whether or not it was a good idea to let a stranger board. She looked around at you all for advice.

“It is not a good idea. Sounds like a trap to me.” Zeb stated gruffly crossing his arms. Chopper beeped in agreement with Zeb.

“They sound pretty beat up and aren’t we meant to help those in need when we can?” you chimed in. You weren’t sure why, but you were drawn to the voice and felt a desperate need to help them.

“I agree.” Sabine cut in. “We should always help people if we can. If it is a trap then we are more than capable of fighting them off.” She instinctually put her hand on her blaster.

Hera pursed her lips as she thought it all over and then turned on the comm again.

“Permission to board granted. Bring no weapons and we will be dropping you off as soon as we find somewhere to get you medical treatment.” Hera demanded of the stranger over the comms.

“Oh yes. Yes, of course, thank you. Thank you ever...ever... so much.” the voice seemed understandably happy about Hera’s decision, but the way they trailed off towards the end came off a little unhinged, almost sinister in a sense.

Hera docked to the hammerhead and you all went down to the airlock to welcome in the stranger and make sure nothing nefarious was going to occur. The door hissed open and a hooded figure stood in the shadows and mist of the airlock.

The air filled with the scent of ozone, blaster fire, and strikingly, cinnamon. You stepped closer trying to see the figure. Chopper wheeled closer and made a hesitant remark as the figure slowly walked forward. Zeb and Sabine drew their weapons proactively.

“Present yourself with your hands up, stranger,” Hera instructed the mysterious cloaked figure.

“But of course.” The stranger’s voice spilled out like poisoned wine as they stepped into the Ghost’s hallway, their hood still hiding their face from everyone. In a flash, you and the rest of your team were flung up into the ceiling of the airlock hallway. The force of it alone took the air from your lungs in a sudden gasp and you could not make sense of what was happening. You looked down at the stranger whose bright red arms were visible as they outstretched up towards all of you stuck to the ceiling.

“Maul.” Hera breathed out just loud enough for you to hear. You had not run into the famed old Sith Lord before but had heard many stories through the crew and he was well known amongst many of the crime rings you had acquainted yourself with through the years. You felt a little ashamed for being kind of excited to meet him. Of course, mostly you were angered and scared about the current situation, and even that sliver of excitement was quickly replaced by shame for feeling such a silly thing. Everyone’s weapons were ripped from their hands and holsters down to Maul.

A couple of tour guide droids wheeled into the ship around Maul and collected the weapons. He lowered his hand and you all came crashing down onto the floor. Everyone grunted in pain and even Chopper squealed in anger. Your mouth filled with the taste of blood as you picked your head up off the harsh metal floor plates. You slowly crawled up, your head was ringing and your body felt broken. Before you could even get your bearings you were forced back down onto your knees and your hands bound.

With the help of the tour guide droids, he led all of you out of the airlock hallway and into the control room.

“Now that I have your undivided attention, I will be needing the holocrons you possess along with my apprentice Ezra. Where is the Jedi and my apprentice?” He paced the room, his voice now haunting and powerful, not weak like he first presented himself moments ago. Everyone was silent and trying not to look at each other or Maul. Curiosity got the best of you and you accidentally locked eyes with the vibrant yellow eyes of the former Sith Lord. His focus narrowed in on you and you felt his power needle its way through to your brain for a moment until Zeb spoke out and distracted him.

“We don’t have the holocrons and we don’t even know where Kanan and Ezra are,” he said matter of factly. Maul’s gaze instantly broke with yours to turn towards Zeb.

“Such a pity. And I had wanted to spare all of your lives.” Maul said in a menacing nonchalant style. As some form of luck, seemingly pretty bad at this moment, the comms buzzed and Ezra’s voice sparked through along with a holo of him and Kanan,

“Hera, am I glad to see you’re alright.”

“Kanan..” Hera started to warn them of your guest, but Kanan rushed ahead with his attempt at warning her about an inquisitor. It didn’t take long for them to realize it was not an inquisitor, but instead Maul.

“What do you want?” Kanan angrily inquired Maul.

“The Sith Holocron that our apprentice and I acquired on Malachor.”

“We don't have it.”

“How unfortunate, because if that's true, - then your friends have no future.” Maul threatened the Jedi as he ignited his red light saber.

“Okay, we have it. Just not with us.” Ezra offered in a panic.

“We'll give it to you, as long as our friends remain safe.” Kanan attempting his diplomacy.

“Agreed. Good. Oh, and one more thing, your Jedi Holocron, give that to me as well.” Maul demanded in his sly gruff voice. You had to hand it to him, he did not try to hide his intentions. Hera pleaded her protestations but, ultimately Kanan agreed. The comms were disconnected and Maul asked for a tour of the ship. Everyone avoided the request and looked at the floor.

“I...I um, I can do it.” the words spilled out of your mouth before you could even render what you were doing. Your crew all looked over at you with huge eyes and mouthing NO, but it was too late. You felt confident you could distract him this way. Your team was strong and whip-smart, if they could just have a small moment to themselves without Maul you knew, you just knew they could come up with a plan.

“Is that so?” Maul was suddenly leaning into your face, his aura unexpectedly enticing you, you could feel his body heat. Your face grew hot and you looked down to avoid his diabolic eyes.

He grabbed your arm in a surprisingly gentle yet powerful way as he pulled you up to your feet and undid your binds. Your balance was off from the trauma of being flung upwards and back down again and everything else in-between. You felt yourself falter in step and try as you might you fell right into the arms of the former Sith Lord. He caught you with ease with a confused look on his face, but you were too embarrassed to fully look at him. He pushed you off himself and made a small hrmph noise as he did.

“After you,” he gestured with an outstretched hand leading out of the control room. The droids stayed back to hold the rest of the crew captive as you stepped into the hallway, the doors hissed shut behind you causing you to jump slightly. You were now all alone with the crimson Zabrak, and you could feel his dangerous energy emanating off of him. When you looked into his fiery golden eyes you could also sense a great deal of remorse. He caught you staring at him and furrowed his brow.

“Well, I guess I will show myself around then.” He said as he pushed past you and made his way down the hall. You regain your senses and quickly follow behind him to catch up.

“Let me help you.” you grabbed his arm to turn him around and try to slow him down.

“And what is it exactly you think you can help me with? I do not require the services of a spy,” he remarked with the furrow in his brow deepening.

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that. Everyone can use a spy on their side,” you say in an attempt to negotiate for yourself still holding onto his arm.

“We shall see.” He simply stated not acknowledging the gentle grip of your hand on his sturdy arm. You wished you could keep it there longer, he was so warm and on the cold ship, it felt like a blessing, even though you knew better.

“So this is more than just a ship,” He said as you both walked along the halls and he saw your room on the left and paused to peer in.

“Yes, we live here.” he entered your room and looked around at your tidy and trim room. You had never felt the need for many possessions especially when you were so often confined to small living quarters. The only indication of it being inhabited was a painting of the starry sky framed like a window on your wall. He gently touched the frame and you saw a deep sadness overtake his golden eyes.

“It’s..just a painting I made to make it feel like I had a window in here,” you explained looking at him with a questioning concern painting your face.

“How quaint,” he remarked as he walked out and continued to inspect everyone else’s rooms. He stopped at Kanan’s and breathed in deep.

“A dull and dour chamber. These are the quarters of a Jedi. - Show me where he keeps the Holocron.” He instructed you.

“I...I am not sure where he keeps it.” you stammered out.

“Hmm.. and here I thought the spy would be of such great use to me.” He pointed out as he peered into your mind with the Force, completely exposing you to him. His gloved hand outstretched in front of your face as he extracted the info from you like needles grabbing threads of your brain and pulling a stitch tight. You had no power over him and fell completely submissive to him, just wanting this uncomfortable sensation to go away. He began to laugh maniacally as he tugged at your mind and finally released you, now with a much more serious look on his face. He opened Kanan’s dresser drawer and pulled out the Jedi Holocron. You felt so defeated and also, oddly sympathetic to his plight whatever it may be.

“You have served me well, spy.” He stepped towards you and put his gloved hand on your face in a curiously tender caress.

“We have more in common than you may think.” he finished as he motioned for you to walk out of the room and put his arm around your shoulders in a show of dominance and security that you could feel yourself melting into. You felt yourself questioning your allegiance to the Ghost crew, a primal urge ripped at you to follow this tortured Zabrak wherever he may go.

He looked at you and smiled, laughing lightly. “Who says I would let you follow me, spy?”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.--.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

thank you for reading <3 I hope I did this story justice, it gave me a lot of imposter syndrome because I feel like I don’t know as much about the Rebels series, but it was fun to research it more. xoxo

taglist: (message me if you’d like to be added or if I forgot you)

@brilliantbutbatty

@maulieber

@botherbother-blog

@emissarydecksetter

@wolfpack-arts-industries99

@a-dorin

#maul x reader #rebels era #fanfic request #maul being a little shit as usual #gender neutral reader #darth maul x reader #flirting #angst #holocrons #ghost crew #star wars x reader

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tintinwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Telling Pedro Characters ‘I Love You’ During Sex but it’s Accurate (I’m kidding) and I’m an Asshole to the Characters

Again, I love Pedro and all the fics you guys write, this is for fun!

Agent Whiskey

you enjoy your eight month anniversary at Denny’s, romantically eating from the same Grand Slam meal

yes he takes you there in his car like your first date but

“I ain’t done with you yet, sugar dumplin’.”

y’all go back to your place for another two minutes of sexy fun

halfway through is when he actually does a pretty good thrust and you say it: “I love you, Whiskey.”

he stops thrusting for a second and you’re like OH NO HE DOESN’T LOVE ME EVEN THO WE’VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR MONTHS AND HE’S OBSESSED WITH ME

“Oh, baby doll, I love you like a hog loves the sound of a red-headed woodpecker as it square dances in a patch of mud.”

6/10 for being in love with even if the sex is mediocre

Dave York

please don’t say it

pLeAsE dO NoT tElL dAvE yOrK tHaT yOu LoVe HiM!!!!!!!

WHY WOULD YOU LOVE THIS MAN HONESTLY

WAS IT THE SWEAT DRIPPING FROM HIS DRESS SHIRT AS HE FUCKED INTO YOU FOR 30 SECONDS

NOT EVEN SURE HOW YOU FOUND THE TIME TO TELL HIM DURING SEX BUT “I love you!”

why

anyway he kills you

-408/10 for being in love with and I don’t have to explain why

Din Djarin

he’s been alone for a long time

there is something so easy about falling in love with this intimidating, yet gentle and patient man if you’re with him

and, hell, maybe it’s only sex because you’re both lonely and you don’t know if he’d ever want more but

“Mando...Mando, I love you.”

the man doesn’t take his helmet off to fuck you and you’re still in love with him like a pining little fool

he doesn’t say anything, but he is more protective of you and more considerate with you and maybe he...

4/10 for being in love with bc the boy is a little awkward but I think he might love you too

Ezra

I am not sure how you get a word in edgewise with this man and the sonnets he recites when he’s fucking you

“Oh would that I could cut these ties that bind me. Out, damned spot! Out, I say!”

who says that when they come i would like to know please

he makes you cum pretty good tho so yes you’re gonna tell this man who is your fuck buddy? fuck acquaintance? that you love him as he rocks into you

he doesn’t even pause

“If I could love thee any more impenetrably, I think mine heart would climb out of one of my many orifices to allow your full claim upon it.”

does that mean he loves you i dont really know

4/10 for being in love with bc he’s just so confusing let’s not pretend any of us are smart enough to put up with him

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales

you’ve been dating him for a few months when you realize the squeezing in you that you notice whenever you see him means something else

the puppy dog eyes that follow his every move is pointed out by Pope any time he’s hanging out with the two of you

it’s not until he’s asked you to stay the night and he’s slowly rutting into you that the words tell themselves

“I love you, Frankie.”

he pauses and he lets out this charmed little laugh

“Love you too, baby.”

honestly the best sex you’ve ever enjoyed with him

10/10 for being in love with bc he loves you very much too :)

Javier Peña

oh sweetie you knew he was going to break your heart when sex became a casual thing between the two of you rather than a one night stand

Javi is grumpy and he is sad but there are times when he is too sweet and funny not to fall in love with

not to mention that he knows your body like his own and he’s the best sex partner you’ve ever been with

you don’t mean to say it you want want to say it don’t say it dont say it “I love you, Javi.”

he stops, then he keeps fucking you like you didn’t say anything to him

he immediately rolls off you and smokes a cigarette without really acknowledging you

“This was a lot of fun.” he says like you’re some random person he barely knows and you tell him to call you about lunch and he grunts and you cry

1/10 for being in love with bc maybe with some time he could be convinced but I’m not sure

Marcus Pike

it is not you who says I love you during sex

it’s Marcus

totally

he smiles at you as you ride him and just says, “I love you.”

and you love him too because how could you not love this man

lots of kissing and giggling and ooh that orgasm tho

IDK HOW TO SAY THIS MAN IS LITERALLY PERFECT!!!!!!!!!

400/10 for being in love with bc he will offer you a life and a home and a family if you want DON’T LOOK AT ME

Maxwell Lord

how

why

was it his self-obsession about his looks that made you love him?

maybe the way he liked to slam you over furniture to pound into you?

you probably say it bc he pays attention to you and you don’t know what love actually is

he laughs so hard his thrusts into you from behind are jerked and rough

he thanks you for the laugh and keeps fucking you, letting out a little laugh every time he thinks about it

-4,443/10 for being in love with bc are you kidding me have you seen the man

Max Phillips

he’s really charismatic if not incredibly perverse which is why you fall for him

it’s also possible that he um compelled you

or maybe it’s bc he turned you haha who knows

“I love you, sir!”

he totally gets off on the idea of you being in love with him that he cums right there

and then he drinks from you so oh maybe he didn’t turn you!

he does not love you back tho lmao he just likes the power of someone loving him

0/10 for being in love with bc he’s arguably not bottom of the barrel here

Oberyn Martell

everybody loves Oberyn

you’re on top of him with him doing some fancy orgasmic move to your titties

“I love you” you say bc this man can make you orgasm by licking your fucking knee so

there is a chorus of “I LOVE YOU” from all the other people in the room

it’s not really special when he says it back bc you’re not sure if he LOVE loves you or if he’s saying a general “I love my harem of people”

but then he sucks on some part of you and it’s like whatever

you’re fine with whatever bc he he can also make you orgasm from licking your chin

4/10 for being in love with bc the sex is good and he doesn’t treat you cruelly

Pero Tovar

he’s typical of his time so im not gonna fault you for being in love with him

but he also fucks you so hard i am IMPRESSED that you sound intelligible

“I. Love. You.”

robots weren’t a thing so you don’t sound like a robot but if it was modern days yes you would sound like a robot

you’re probably married so he grunts it back

so sweet

probably turns into a breeding kink kind of thing tbh look at him

7/10 for being in love with okay he will make sure you are fed with a roof over your head along with your 12 children

#pedro character headcanons

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heybuddyitsmehai · 3 years ago

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🎉Happy Birthday Honey🎉

I know I'm just one of many people who will be showering you with love today, but I really, truly, hope your day is amazing and I luh you very many lots all the time 💕

Bedtime Routine with Botanist!Ezra

Maybe the two of you have been scavenging the Green for flowers all day and now that the planet's suns have set, you're both more than ready for bed.

You follow him obediently back inside your tent, a bag full of pressed flowers slung over his shoulder and his journal tucked under your arm.

Ezra has been telling you a story about the last time he came face to face with a toydarian lizard as the pair of you hiked back to the tent in an effort to keep you from getting too sleepy, but now that you're both home, he lets his weariness get the better of him.

His shoulders slump as he steps through the canvas door and he lets out a deep sigh, slugging his pack and tool kit to the floor beside the cot. "I do believe I am spent, my love. The call of our cot is ringing in my ears louder than it normally does."

You nod in agreement, stifling a yawn, and begin to take off your suit, the extra weight of it much like the heavy exhaustion clouding your mind. Ez is quick to help you out of it, careful to avoid snagging your hair as he pulls the helmet up and off of your head.

“Tea, birdie?" He asks as he unzips the back of your suit, reaching out for your hand as you step out of it.

"Mmm, I can make it Ez. Lay down and rest your shoulder."

The prospector is keen, time and attentive afffection having made him well aware of your wiles. "Let me do this for you." He gently prods, the soft pads of his fingers trailing down your now exposed arms.

You exhale loudly and throw your head back. "Fine."

Ezra beams and leans forward to give you a tender kiss, his mouth soft and warm against yours. A smile spreads across his lips as he pulls away, dragging his fingers across the column of your outstretched neck and up to comb a wild sprig of hair behind your ear.

You lean against him and stretch back up for one more peck before Ezra squeezes you tightly.

He hums deep in his throat, warm and content and fulfilled with you in his arms. He lets you free, then moves over to the makeshift kitchen and begins preparing your tea. Your favorite mug is taken from it's home, the container of black tea, the smell blooming and proud as he opens it, is shaken and carefully prodded through.

You smile at his thoughtfulness, his selflessness reserved just for you. You begin getting ready for the evening and as you're brushing your teeth, Ezra sticks his head around the corner.

"Tea's ready, my love. It's next to your book stack."

You smile and nod a thank you through a mouth full of toothpaste.

Ez wiggles in beside the sink and next to you, foraging for his own toothbrush.

You muddle, your mouth slightly agape with foaming toothpaste, "We gotta clean my suit before we go back out tomorrow."

Ezra nods and squeezes toothpaste onto his toothbrush. "The swamps of the Green are harsh and unforgiving, I'm afraid."

You nod and wash out the last of your toothpaste, "At least we finally found your special flower though."

The botanist quips before beginning to brush, "I've had my special flower all along." One of his dark eyebrows cocks upwards and a smile tugs at his lips.

Your cheeks beam at his words, but you roll your eyes to tease him. "Easy there, cowboy." Moving a hand along the ridges of his back, you teeter over and kiss his cheek, giving his bare shoulder a little squeeze before pulling away.

You hurry back to your cot and to the mug of tea steaming faithfully on the stack of books by your bedside.

You sip it happily as you wait for him and he joins you in bed soon after. He pulls you close to him and mumbles under his breath, "Night, sweet birdie."

Throwing back the last of your tea, you smile and nestle your face into his chest, "Night, Ez."

Teaching Din How to Bake

Sweet baby Din is so good at lots of things. Hunting, gathering, headbutting, being emo, etc but baking...is not one of those things.

He wants to do it, he really does, because he knows how much you love it and how happy it makes you.

But no matter what, somehow your birthday cake comes out either burnt or still doughy somehow.

He's been trying to practice in secret so he can surprise you on your birthday with the perfect cake, but it's been hard to keep the Crest from smelling like burnt food.

The night before your birthday, he's giving it all he's got, an aporn on over the beskar, flour on his thigh plate, the heat from the oven causing his helmet to fog up, him crouching in front of the glowing machine just staring into it.

The timer hasn't gone off yet but he thinks he can see the cake burning and he really doesn't want to burn it because it's the night before your birthday and he really doesn't want to give you a burnt cake but if he burns it where will he get a new one and when will he find the time to surprise you if he's spending that time fixing the cake and-

"Din?" You ask from the doorway, your hair frizzy and your eyes squinting. "What are you doing?" You chuckle.

He clears his throat and stands slowly, wiping his gloved hands on his apron. "I was, uh, I am-" he looks back down to the oven. "I think I'm burning your birthday cake."

You smile as you watch him pull the lump of batter from the oven. It's slanted and clearly not whisked together well enough, but you could tell he really wanted to do it himself. "It doesn't look that bad."

Din puts his hands on his hips and sighs, shifting his weight. "Yeah...it does."

You sigh and move to him, your brave and fearless bounty hunter who braved the wilds of the kitchen for you. You run your hands up his chest to wrap around his neck. "Thank you for trying."

Din stands awkwardly under your touch, clearly disappointed in himself and feeling a bit embarrassed. He sighs heavily, "I'm sorry. I wanted to surprise you."

You lean up to kiss the edge of his helmet. "I know. But now," You begin, reaching behind him to untie your apron he's wearing. "I can teach you."

"But it's your birth-"

"Din," You look up to the slat in his helmet to where his eyes would be. "I want to."

He let's out a sigh and nods, "Okay."

You take your apron off of him and put it on, Din there to tie it securely around your waist.

Din is a perfect student, listening and watching intently and trying not to be too helpless.

You can feel him tense when you put your hands over his, showing him exactly how to whisk the batter.

After the batter is made and the cake is in the oven, Din let's out a heavy sigh, brushing a hand through your hair. "Thank you."

Farmer's Market with Jack

For a summer day in July, the weather is not too bad and Jack is insistent on the two of you not waste it and go to the farmer's market.

"I'll make it fun, darlin', just do me this kindness."

You nod and beam up at him, a smear of flour on your cheek. "Anytime."

Looking up into his golden-flecked eyes, seeing the quirk of his smile and that one piece of hair that just won't stayed combed behind his ear, you can't help but to bend to his desires.

When you agree to it, he gives you a kiss on the cheek in recompense and hurries to shower and get ready for the day.

The market is full today, everyone else taking advantage of the nice weather as well, you assume.

Jack holds one of your hands in his and leads you forward through the stalls, "Anything catch your eye, clementine?"

You push yourself closer to him to avoid the hordes of people and not at all because you can see the outline of his bicep through the tight fabric of his shirt and can't stop yourself from needing to feel it.

The two of you stop at a booth selling squash and giggle at their funny shapes, Jack taking full advantage of the vegetable props to make you laugh even harder.

He loves seeing you like this; the stress of the day not yet pulling at your shoulders, the warm sunshine on your face and glinting off your dark hair, the ease of your time spent with him is suddenly surprising and helps him to realize just how much he loves you.

After buying a head of asparagus and a few huge sweet potatoes, he spots a booth selling flowers down the path and turns to you quickly, blocking your line of sight, "Will you do me a favor?"

A twinge of rouge rises in your face and you nod yes, batting your eyelashes dutifully up at him.

"Close those pretty blue eyes for me and stay right here, baby. I'll be right back." He requests and after you comply, he gives the bridge of your nose a quick kiss before you can hear his boots walking away.

Standing in a bustling farmers market with your eyes closed and tote bag in hand is not ideal and a little nerve wracking, but for Jack, you had to at least try.

He returns quickly and you can hear the smile in his tone when he says "Okay, open 'em."

When you do, you see that he has brought you a bushel of tulips; white and pink and yellow and red.

You're unsure how to respond and he can see it in your face. "You don't want them?" He asks, his eyes wide.

“No, no, Jack, I want them, I just-" There it is; that pesky heart rising in your throat. "I don't know what to say...Thank you."

He smirks at that, knowing it was a job well done, and pulls you into a hug, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. "You know I'd do anything for you, don't you, pretty girl?"

You nod and let your eyes close. "Yes, Jack."

"Good." He ends, using his lips to press the word into the softness of your neck and squeezing your sides just a little bit tighter.

TAGLIST: you :)

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secretradiobrooklyn · 3 years ago

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Secret Radio | 7.24.21, 8.7.21 & etc.

“Better, Better, Back” Secret Radio | 7.24.21, 8.7.21 & etc. | Hear it here.

- Mort Garson - “Plantasia”

1. Jean-Pierre Djeukam - “Africa Iyo” - “Cameroon Garage Funk”

The main musician I think of from Cameroon is Beti-Beti, and this is a whole different thing. Endless props to Analog Africa for providing fiery track after track. This is the sweat from their newest collection!

2. Eyedress - “Jealous”

Paige hears something in this and when I unfocus my eyes I do too. (Literal?) high school skate kids gettin in their shallow feels. I will admit that the chorus “time-time” is killer.

3. Nahid Akthar & Tafo - “Takra We Gutt Bhar Le” (I think)

Nahid Akthar’s voice is so completely bewitching that the amazing arrangements almost sneak by. Tafo is the producer of this track I believe, and the narrative structure of the music is just so confident and encompassing. But then also: man, that VOICE. She’s right up there with Ros Serey Sothea in expressiveness and character.

4. Oruã - “Escola das Roas” - “Sem Bênção / Sem Crença”

My thanks to you, Marc, for pointing this band to us. I have fallen in love with this particular recording, it just gets more thoroughly better with every listen. Calvin Johnson mentioned this band in a recent K newsletter — they’re a Brazilian band who corresponded with Doug Martsch as mutual fans until at some point Doug decided his own band needed replacing and he brought them out as Built to Spill and also as Oruã. This track also has shades of Sonic Youth’s “Master-Dik,” one of my all-time ultra faves. It really hits me in the ’90s, and I rilly want to see how some of this music is performed live.

5. Jacques Dutronc - “Le Responsable”

I’m so thankful to have Jacques Dutronc in my life. His rock songs knock me into gear like nothing else — and the whole band has its own very specific flavor. It kicks!

6. Sleepy Kitty - “Alceste in Silverlake”

At very long last, there is a new Sleepy Kitty album on the way! It’s in line at the record plant as I type this. And this is a song from the perspective of a musician-seeking drummer in LA, crossed with the most brutally honest man in all of France.

7. Sakuran Zensen - “錯乱前戦ロッキンロール” (I Wanna Rock & Roll)

We only knew one song by this band (that we’ve played here) because the video was rad, but I looked to see what else was there and this song is just freakin great with me. The chords are really cool and his vocal delivery is just so over the top it’s impossible not to love. And the guitar solo is basically a full-on tonefest, which I appreciate more than a bunch of flying fingers. The video helps fill in the picture nicely too, I think, though I like the song while not looking at it even more.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YPCqT3e89SU

- Mort Garson - “Concerto for Philodendron & Pothos”

8. Clothilde - “Fallait pas ècraser la queue du chat”

All hail the French instinct for chamber music instruments as pop instruments, and then as a kind of technicolor weirdness. The orchestration of this song is a work of art in itself, and that doesn’t even account for her self-harmonizing melody. If you haven’t already, picture a brunette bob and deep mascara.

9. Public Service Broadcasting - “Spitfire”

I can’t remember now how I found this music, though I think it might’ve been from Josh’s playlist? This is from 2012, but they have a new album coming out almost exactly a month from now. In Bound Stems Tim and I got really into interlacing snatches of other people’s words into the music we were making, and this is very congruent with that interest. I feel like this song passes tests as it goes.

10. Shocking Blue - “Send Me a Postcard”

I first heard of this band when I was learning everything I could about Nirvana, and I’d heard both versions of “Love Buzz” and knew they were both great, but we only recently caught this track. It’s the bridge between “White Rabbit” and “Territorial Pissings.”

11. Metak - “Tetrapak”

Our favorite Croatian band! Everything about this song is delightful. I feel like if this song was in English I’d probably cringe at the lyrics, but in this format I can only hear how much fun the song is to play. I am one-quarter Croatian, which means I can’t understand any of the lyrics either but I do see little ghosts of myself in the pictures of the band somehow. It’s weird.

12. Katerine - “Louxor J’adore”

-Anything I could say about this song is eclipsed by this excerpt:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uD7QuV6f_MA

The performance to the cemetery knocks me out

13. Erkin Koray - “Seni Her Gördügümde”

Whenever we’re listening to Anatolian psych, the songs with the most creative ideas and satisfying riffs and great vocal passages are always Erkin Koray. The four-piece arrangements are so good, and then he doesn’t hesitate to step up with his guitar to narrate a passage. Also, I really like how Turkish rock sounds so Indian and also Arabic and also French.

14. WITCH - “Chifundo”

Zambian prog rock! I haven’t heard anything like this track anywhere else in Africa yet. The thing is, this version of prog includes the exact flavor that Yes totally lacks, and thus I really love listening to this track in a way most prog rock doesn’t hit me. The time switches and the lead part over the top are just so smooth!

15. Ezra Furman - “Psalm 151”

We’ve been listening to a lot of Ezra Furman’s music lately, and it’s only getting better and more engrossing with every listen. We toured with Ezra Furman’s band about 5 years ago and every night was a pleasure. They’re finishing up a new album, which makes this a great time to listen to the others. This entire album, “Transangelic Exodus,” is a masterpiece as far as we’re concerned, and I find myself thinking the whole time too about Tim Sandusky’s production. Tim’s such a home town for us, and to hear his full attention on this album is just such a pleasure.

16. Ralph Stanley - “White Light, White Heat”

It was one of my favorite musical influence moments ever when my dad’s bluegrass band, The Prozac Mtn Boys, played VU’s “What Goes On.” Knowing that there is a recording of one of my dad’s true banjo heroes playing “White Light White Heat” is just an endless blessing. And actually hearing it is even better.

17. Kim Jung Mi - “Ganadaramabasa”

I know basically nothing about this track except that she’s Korean and this is from 1973. She’s got a real Diana Ross thing going on, and her band has a real Supremes vibe too… but it doesn’t sound like one of their songs.

18. Penny Penny - “Yogo Yogo”

We just got this record recently, and based on this track I wouldn’t’ve necessarily pictured the remarkable-looking guy who actually made this music. This is from the album “Shaka Bundu.” I’m sure it’s been cranked up and sent through some great house remixes — how could this not be? — but I like how this tempo operates at its own pace. It’s so truly and thoroughly ’80s, very 20th century. In the 21st century this tempo is practically cerebral.

19. Baris Manço - “Binboganin Kizi”

More Anatolian action. It’s really interesting to me how Turkish stuff was always associated with psych music but I didn’t really know how except for the opium thing, and I now understand that it’s in the chord relationships, well, and a lot of the vocal melody and delivery. In that way, Turkish rock pretty much defines what psych music sounds like. Wow. And check out that keyboard solo, so next level!

20. The Velvet Underground - “Countess from Hong Kong”

People are always asking Beatles or Stones and the answer is Velvet Underground. (And the Beatles, and the Stones.) They were just operating along a different balance beam than those other guys — performing different tricks for a different audience. While the Beatles were defining pop music, the VU were destroying it… but then later, they reveal their deep affinity for Western music, even as they never drop in to the blues-centric reading of it. It’s truly punk. I guess they are to punk what the Beatles are to pop — the definition of pop is whatever flows to or from the Beatles; punk is whatever flows to or from the Velvet Underground. Certainly more than any single band in 1976 or 7 or whatever.

21. Bella Bellow - “Denyigban”

The piano phrase that kicks this song off is surprisingly close to the opening of Bound Stems’ “Appreciation Night.” We got that phrase from the demo mode of Radz’s keyboard, and it’s surreal to hear a high-overlap version in a song from Togo. Her voice is so clean in tone and pitch, and what’s strangest to me is that I register the instrumentation in an almost Disney mode — but then realize that’s because Disney will draw on Caribbean and African elements at times as they establish characters and settings. Such an elegant song though!

22. Rail Band - “Mouodilo”

One of the first insights that got us into WBFF was the realization that James Brown had even more fundamental influence on the music of the world than the Beatles did — certainly in Africa. Hearing how his delivery interrelates with so many bands from all across Africa is such a revelation. This track just keeps winding around you til you can’t hardly live without it.

- Asha Bhosle - “Salma Jarir Jhalak”

All I know about this is that it’s in Bangla and it’s from a movie.

23. Unknown - “Chemirocha” - from “Love Is Love”

Several years ago, when African records looked interesting but we literally didn’t know anything about them, we bought a record called Love Is Love, in part because it was a beautiful cover and in part because the music seemed mysterious and full of possibility. Now, when I go to look for it online, I see no sign — I think it’s just a really small pressing from a… pirate group, I guess one could say? But really I think just hardcore music lovers. Anyway, it has this song “Chemirocha” on it, and there’s a story about this song that is really probably just best to link to because it’s so amazing. I guarantee you will find the information in this article worth your read:

https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/chemirocha-how-an-american-country-singer-became-a-kenyan-star

24. Sparks - “Do-Re-Mi”

We’ve known about Sparks, but we’re late to a close listen. We’ve been listening a lot in anticipation of — not the band bio pic but “Annette,” the new film by Carax, one of our favorite directors ever. For that matter: make sure to watch “Holy Motors” by Carax. It’s probably best if you watch “Lovers on a Bridge” before that, but if you have to go straight to “Holy Motors,” dive right in. It’s amazing.

Meanwhile: This take on the Mary Poppins classic is TOO MUCH — I can’t stop smiling at the end, when the bells start tolling over the crashing drums and crescendoing vocal waves as their third finale fades away. How can anyone make this song, the very definition of not-rock, rock so fully?

- Mort Garson - “Ode to an African Violet”

25. Bob Reuter’s Alley Ghost - “She Brought Me to the Wire”

I will forever be glad that we not only landed in a city where we could find out about the person and the works of Bob Reuter, but that we got to know and work with him. Bob Reuter was one of the definitions of St. Louis to us, and when he passed, so did some of that city. But also, he left music and photos and stories in Eleven and chapbooks that I truly hope last forever. He was the hard-living romantic that you hope lives in the heart of every hard-luck case… and in his one instance, it was true. Bless your soul, Bob Reuter.

photos by Bob Reuter from The Pageant and El Leñador

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