#prospect film

[morallyinept]

Helianthus - An Ezra One Shot 🌻

Summary: Ezra and you have docked on a planet that harbours a pleasant surprise for you both.

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 3.4k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️ “It's the emergence, of.” 

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here. 

Warnings/Triggers: Established relationship/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/fingering/kissing/reader is in the very early stages of pregnancy/mostly soft mush with some Ezra spiciness

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned. 

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: Ezra and sunflowers - what more could you want? 🌻

MAIN MASTERLIST | EZRA MASTERLIST | FLORA & FAUNA MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

In the hazy realm between wakefulness and dreams, where misty clouds encircle an electrifying peach glow, breathy snuffling tugs gently on the strings of your consciousness. 

The lightest sensation of touch - a soft nuzzling against your cheek - pulls you back from the brink of satiated sleep and into the warmth of him. 

It’s a gradual awakening, the back of your eyelids swathed in sunlight from a wayward beam in the hatch spotlighting over your face. The slow unfurling of a tight bud at the break of dawn, you emerge from a gossamer veiled cocoon of unconsciousness to the feel of his large, pore-filled nose gliding planes over your jaw.

Flutters of his dark, fanned lashes are felt as he forges a path up to your forehead before placing a tender kiss on it with soft, cracked lips, making you smile. 

You feel his hand, warm and rough, sliding delicately up your arm. Fingers stroking the skin back and forth over your shoulder with blunt nails. Eliciting warm tingles; the fine hairs standing tall powered by need and a pulling want that pools in your belly. 

His lips trace under your jaw, a wet tongue slithering out tasting the skin there, ripe and fruitful. When he reaches your bare nipple, the sheet sliding down your body with his movement, you can’t contain the contented, sleepy moans vibrating on your lips as he sucks it into a hardened pebble around his insidious wet tongue.

“Awake?” He murmurs, kissing over the swell of your breast, plump in his hand. 

As you slowly blink your eyes open, the warm, intense browns meet you with a tender intensity. A crooked grin, a flash of yellowed enamel and the cracking of skin over his pink grin greet you - marred, hawkish features that are all his own and yours to savour.

Your voice barely whispers, "I was hoping to steal a few more moments of sleep. How rude."

With a gentle chuckle heavy in his throat, he drags his lips up the juncture of your neck. “Alluding to the pretence of your slumbersome charade. Your smile gives you away every time, Birdie.”

“And here I thought I was being subtle this time.” You sigh as he cages you under him, teeth perniciously tugging at your nipple again. 

“Subtlety has no place between us,” he says as he sucks it gently back in the warmth of his mouth.

You hum out as he suckles, thick fingers tracing patterns on your cheek, thumb gliding over your lips. You taste the salt and soil in the whorls of his print, nipping on the pad.

A tidal wave of warm breath bathes your face as he grunts into it, eventually finding your lips. His tongue seeks your own to exploit. Your hands engulf him close, a red giant swallowing him whole.

“Ezra…” You whine, your legs wrapping around his paunchy waist, and you realise a rough layer keeps you from him. “Your suit is on.”

“It is indeed.” He murmurs haughtily into your skin, teeth grazing.

“Take it off.” You sway.

His tongue licking tracks makes you whimper. He looks up at you and shakes his head of greased, mussed waves stuck against his forehead. “I have meticulous plans that you won’t scupper.”

“And if I refuse?” You pout, wrapping your legs around him tighter.

He groans as you rake your nails at the back of his skull in the slick oil of his hair. A move that you know will wilt him into subjugation.

“Do you know what you do to me, foul temptress?” He growls as he snatches at your hand managing to only capture one with his singular mitt. He nips on your fingers and you hiss. 

“I can feel it.” You muse. You reach for his turgidity with your other, trying to get inside his suit, but he soon stops you. 

“You’re insatiable,” he hums, licking his bottom lip. He then bites into the flesh at your neck, faint purple violets bloom on your skin from the marks of his teeth. “You’ve slept all day. I’d like to show you something before it gets dark. Put your suit on.”

You whine, a noise akin to a strangled squawk. He watches you reluctantly shuffle into your suit, chewing on his lip and humming as his beady eyes trawl up and down your body.

“Saturation?” You query as he reaches for the latch on the inside door without hesitation, or a helmet.

“No need. The air, while thick, is plenty breathable.”

“How do you know?” You baulk.

“This isn’t my first foray." He remarks with waggled eyebrows. "Took to scouring the landscape with thorough reconnaissance of our environs in search of any auspicious indicators of coveted resources. The discovery of a hidden cache would be a boon to our expedition.”

You shake your head at his length of explanation. “And did you find anything?”

“Something.” A conspirator of delight, Ezra guides you from the lander pod with a playful gleam in his dark eyes. 

“Where are we going?” You query.

“A little way up there.” He points with his only hand to the beacon of lumpy hills in the near distance.

The planet is green, lush and reminds you of a home you once knew. Breathable air, blue skies and dappling bokeh sunlight. It’s been a while since you both stumbled on an Eden to rest your weary bones and crooked backs.  

“Bit of a trek.” You mumble, relishing the chance to have stayed in the cot, warm and snug in some lucid dream long since forgotten.

“Merely a twilight hike.” The fervour of exploration imbues him with an indomitable vigour, a grin flashing at you over his shoulder that’s as infectious as it is alluring.

As you near the summit, the sun streaking fire in the sky as it sets, he stands waiting for you to catch up; his hand reaching for yours as you approach with creaking knees and rasping breaths. 

“Kevva, that’s steep.” You puff.

“Lying horizontal all day will render your fitness lacklustre,” he mocks.

“My lack of fitness is all your fault.” You remark with a wry grin. 

“I don’t recall nearly this much complaining at the time.” He wraps his arm over your shoulder. “Close your eyes.”

“Ezra.”

“Indulge me, pet. Close your eyes.”

You do as he asks and you feel him prod you some paces forward. His breath is felt on the conch of your ear, warm and moist when he guides you to a suitable stop. 

“Open.” He purrs.

You sigh out with an immediate smile. “Oh, Ezra…” 

“Resplendent, isn’t it, Birdie?”

“Did you know this was here when we docked?”

He shakes his head with pursed lips. “Happened upon them during my early ramble. I was quite taken with them.”

“They're beautiful.” You agree. 

“Go on, get up close and personal.” He takes your hand in his and leads you down the hill. 

The sunflowers stand tall and proud, their sturdy stalks reaching skyward like nature's sentinels. Each intricate disc of petals, a radiant burst of yellow, catches the fading sunlight, creating a mesmerising dance of shadows and highlights across the expanse of the field that seems like it stretches on for eons.

As you walk through them, the sensation under your boots is a soft, yielding carpet of grass and fallen petals and seeds. The gentle crunch of earth beneath is accompanied by the occasional release of a subtle, herbal fragrance, as if the very ground exudes the essence of sun-soaked vitality.

With each step, your fingertips brush against the velvety petals, and you can feel the delicate texture beneath your touch. The petals are soft, leaving a subtle, powdery residue on your skin.

You wander through their obliesk mazes, pushing your way through clusters with an awed mirth as he follows. You take a moment to steal a glance back at him over your shoulder and he’s stopped, looking upwards with eyes closed and breathing in. 

There’s a quiet intensity about Ezra as he stands there, taking in the vast expanse of the alien, yet somewhat familiar, landscape before him. His eyes, usually so alive with energy and steely determination, now hold a depth of emotion that you’ve rarely seen - a mixture of awe, wonder, and perhaps a hint of vulnerability.

You observe the play of emotions across his face - the furrow of his heavy brow as he concentrates, the slight quirk of his lips as a sense of wonder washes over him. The intensity in his dark eyes as they capture yours. 

"Well, hello there, pet," he says, his voice low and filled with affection. "Caught me admiring the view, did you?"

“We both are.” You simply say, reaching for him. 

As you both wander deeper into the labyrinth of the sunflowers, you can’t help but feel a sense of whimsy taking over you. He stops to pluck seeds out, tearing open a head and offering you some as they roll around his teeth.

"They're so beautiful," you remark, your voice filled with wonder.

Ezra nods in agreement, his eyes alight with mischievous excitement. "They are indeed.”

"I feel like we're in our own little world here," you say.

He squeezes your hand gently, his touch reassuring. "That's all we need.”

As the sun sets, he invites you to recline amidst the golden blooms, your head in his lap looking up at the sky, lost in a burrow of thick stalks. The anticipation that had danced in your eyes now transforms into a quiet serenity as you lie together, surrounded by the sunflowers' nodding heads seemingly miles above you in the sky.

Your fingertips, still adorned with the powdery residue of sunflower caresses, trace idle patterns on his hand as you clutch it close.

Above, the leaves create a natural canopy, dappling the sunlight into a mosaic of dying warmth as the cobalt bleeds in.

Lying amidst the sunflowers, you become part of the landscape - a living diorama where nature itself paints the backdrop for your being. It's not just a surprise; it's a moment of shared bliss, a poetic pause in the heart of the sunflower field on a foreign planet far from anywhere you could call home.

Companionable silence joins you both for a while, a break in Ezra’s beaky ramblings, content to simply be together in the midst of such natural splendour.

You turn your gazes upward, greeted by a luminous river of stars. His eyes, now reflecting the twinkling lights overhead, find a mirrored universe in yours. The sunflowers, though no longer in focus, cast long shadows that seem to reach towards the cosmos.

His accent, reminiscent of stout Southern edification, begins to expound upon the wonders above as he points out constellations and planets that twinkle as little beams of light.

"The beauty of the universe is unequalled." You conclude dreamily, your head resting on Ezra's thighs, his thick digits weaving and stroking under your jaw. 

From this position, you can see the vast depths of it, curling its fingers out to beckon you to dip your face into its secrets. 

"Lies." He retorts with a little snicker. "I fear the universe has met its match." He tilts your chin so you’re facing him and those deep brown eyes regard you sincerely. 

"You like to talk, Ezra." You smirk. 

"I mean it " he assures. “Look at you, the stars are blushing.”

You smile, feeling your jaw ache as he strokes under it with his only thumb.

“Have you ever pondered the nocturnal inclinations of sunflowers?" He breathes out looking up at them.

"Can’t say that I have.” You smirk. "Regale me, o' skilled raconteur," you tease as he tugs on your chin.

"It's a fascinating theory I came across - a notion that in the absence of the sun, these golden blooms, like erudite companions, turn toward each other. A celestial dance, if you will, where they share their stored energy."

“A cosmic conversation among sunflowers. I never thought I'd be part of such a poetic moment." You snort with a giggle. 

“Oi. Mock me all you like, woman.” Ezra nudges you with a twinkle in his eye.

"Oh, I do."

"It's as if the sunflowers are sharing secrets, don't you think? A botanical confabulation beneath the cosmic theatre."

“Botanical confabulation? You sure have a fascinating way with words, Ez."

"Imagine if we could decipher their floral discourse. What tales do you think they'd share?"

You sit upright. “That they do wish you'd shut up and kiss me.” You say, pulling him towards you for a deep, saturated kiss. 

He sighs into you as you comb his hair back, your thumb lingering in that stark blonde piece of the moon in his hairline. Your hand grips his right shoulder, stroking down gently until it stops where he ends. You squeeze and caress the stump gently.

"You know, when you do that, I feel whole again." He breathes, nuzzling into you. "Confounding in it's whimsy."

“You’ve always been whole to me, Ezra.” Your nose traces the wiry route of the scar under his left socket.

"I won't get to feel your hand in mine." He says, casting a gaze to his stump. You’ve altered his fraying suit so his sleeve no longer flaps about, patching it tight and padding it. Some days he swears he can still wiggle his fingers. 

"You have another." You say, taking his hand and kissing the pads of his digits before slowly sucking the middle into your mouth.

“Careful,” he hisses, eyes turning as black as the sky above as he watches you suck it all the back to your throat.

You smile as it pops wet out of your mouth and he pulls you close against his chest. 

“Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad if we missed the sling back… stay here a while.” You murmur as you take in the sights of the sunflowers cresting and creaking above you.

“Thirty turns until the next sling if we linger.” Ezra ponders, running the fuzz of his lips over your crown.

“Mm.” You nod. "We have the means."

"I'm concerned by your raffish approach to this contrite endeavour, however serene. Wouldn't you feel more secure in a near proximity to the birthing pools?”

“We've a while to go yet.” You reassure stroking under his chin in the wiry, greying hairs there. 

He slides his swamping palm over the small swell of your belly, rubbing back and forth gently. “That’s as maybe, we can come back. Bring the Niblet when all is well.”

“Or we could settle, make it a home.” You sway.

“A find of a calibre we've not yet encountered... feasible to some end.” He grazes your jaw with his nose, lips kissing you side on as you cup his hawkish face. “You know I would give you the universe, pet.”  

“I already have it.” You say, staring up at him. 

“Oh, the hackneyed piss that pours outta your mouth,” he smirks as you giggle into his face. 

“Now you know the trite that I have to endure that comes out of yours.”

“Hokum. You love the elucidation of my wayward charm.” Ezra sneers. 

“Among other things.”

“Such as?” He smirks.

You sit upright, slowly pulling the poppers open on his suit. He doesn’t resist as you pull the zip down revealing his chest and belly. You hold yours taught so he can unzip it, revealing the naked flesh underneath it.

He leans forward, sucking mouthfuls of your sumptuous skin into his mouth, hissing as you find the dripping swell of his cock.  

“So that’s what you’re getting at?” He smiles crookedly at you as you work him in your palm, rolling back the skin to reveal a ruddy bulb.

Thick and sticky, he fills your hand. Feeling the rough material of your suit pressed into the crease of your cunt as you wind your hips desperately against him, moaning with frustration keening into his mouth. 

“Be careful you don’t overplay this distraction technique.” 

“I have no idea what you mean,” you simply smile, standing and removing your suit entirely.

“I am immune to your tactics.” Ezra assures as he lets his eyes wander freely over your body as he strokes his cock in want.

“Are you sure about that?” You mirth as you sit in his lap. He’s considerably hard as you subtly grind against him as you kiss. 

“Should I aid you in your release, pet?” He taps your clit gently making you squeal. “Shall we make the sunflowers recoil in their chaste shrewdness?”

“Let them gossip and blush.” You nod into his face. Your fingers curl around his thick length, stroking as you kiss him some more.

“Mmhm. Hold it like you love it, Birdie... yeah, just like that.” He drawls at you. 

“Scoundrel.” You groan.

“I am but incorrigible.” He smirks. 

Your kisses are desperate, incisors and tongues, far reaching and choking. His pads swipes against your clit again and you cry out as your whole body jolts with pleasure, his fingers soaked already. 

"Sweet Mother of Kevva… a parched man could never drink you dry." He sucks you from his fingers, before slipping them inside you. 

You groan out, long and laboured as he strokes your spot with ease, fingers as thick as his cock as they pump and uncoil the muscles from your bones. 

“Gently, does it, hmm?” He cajoles as he brings you to the brink.

“Ez… mmm,” you can feel it bunching tight, the knot unwinding as he lets you soar into the heavens above, watching in rapt attention as you shake in his lap. 

He drones out as you line yourself up with him and sink down slowly. Knees in the soil and fingers in his mouth. 

“Shit,” Ezra groans as you slide all the way down. Eyes paused in a mid-possession as your cunt squeezes and your back breaks. 

“You seek to annihilate me, don’t you?” Ezra rasps as you rock on him, broad shoulders in your teeth as you kiss indents in them. 

“Ezra, fuck!” You whine, feeling him bottom out and fuck up into you with the simple flex of his hips.

"Give me another one of your kisses, Birdie. Take me back to paradise." 

The way he fucks you is like poetry in motion. His gaze unwavering, his touch never faltering. The softness soon replaced by desperateness; fingers bruising more violets into your skin as he clutches you for balance. Kisses with more bite, pants that start to howl. 

“Ezra,” you whine, holding onto him. “Kevva, I’m close…”

“Let me have it,” he coaxes, turning your face to him, watching as your eyes cloud over under a sky full of iridescent stars. "Beg me to fuck you harder." Ezra hisses to you.

"Please... h-harder-" Your body convulses around the rapture of him. 

"That doesn't sound like begging to me." He taunts with a sly grin. “You have my cock in you, pet. Make me fuck you with it.”

“Please! Mmm fuck, please!” You grapple at him, nails drawing blood in their grazes, his teeth bared as you pull at his greased roots. “Give me all of you, Ezra!” You growl. 

“Your cunt is just full of me,” he rasps, your breath bouncing in the back of your throat with every hard thrust. His babbling eutony filling your ears like cotton as you fade out into the white noise. 

Just barely hearing the clicks of your kisses and the lewd squelches of you around his cock. 

He feels you burst, sees it, hears it. Dissolving him to dust in your solar flare. In that moment, you're his, wholly. And he swears to Kevva he feels something akin to unwavering love rattle through his punctured bones. 

The push of you onto him with his hand makes you gasp as you grind and gyrate, your clit pressed in and rubbing against the patch of coarse hairs that you soak sticky with your slick. 

“Hm, hm, hmphf…” he grunts, small and ragged as you work, nostrils flaring under the steep hook of his nose. Plush lips pressed into a thin line as he strains. 

He throws his head back growling, teeth bared at the universe above, howling throatily as he spills inside of you. His thighs shake, rioting of their own accord as you watch them ripple and tense.

His eyes are squeezed shut before opening them with blown pupils and a slack jaw. They glide down to yours, mouth panting into that wolfish, crooked grin. 

“Birdie, I’m still pouring… look, look what you do, exquisite creature.” He pants, sweat slick hair creasing on his forehead, that little blonde patch rip curling in its defiance. 

You settle against his clammy chest when he comes to; he lays back with you in his arm as you cup and stroke the stump gently tracing the knot of scar tissue until your fingers still.

You both sleep there, under the stars, in the dirt and leaves of the sunflower stalks protecting you both in their intricate cocoons. 

In the morning, when the sun rises and the sunflowers turn their heads in its direction, conversing in their unspoken language with the bright star, Ezra wakes you again with those soft, gentle nuzzles, humming the secrets of the universe inside your ear.  

Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you enjoyed spending time in the sunflowers with Ezra. Let me know your thoughts. And I'd appreciate a re-blog if you enjoyed what you just read so other's can enjoy this story too - thanks so much!🖤🌻

MAIN MASTERLIST | EZRA MASTERLIST | FLORA & FAUNA MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect #pedro pascal characters #prospect ezra #prospect film #jett's writing

[sotvtaughtmehowtofeel]

I’m genuinely curious how many of us there are. Please reblog for a larger sample size and lmk if you create for Prospect 🤌🏻

#if youre creating im assuming youre also engaging #keep it creamy #prospect #prospect 2018 #prospect film #ezra prospect #cee prospect

[deervsheadlights]

prospect (2018) + text posts || part 4: ezra edition✨

part 1 • part 2 • part 3

#prospect 2018 #prospect movie #prospect film #ezra prospect #text posts #inaccurate quotes #pedro pascal characters #deer's originals

[marisferasiop]

Clearing out wips- I posted my vampire!reader/cryptid!Ezra last night. Enjoy!!

Ao3: link

Rating: mature/explicit- minors DNI

Summary: since being turned as a boy into- whatever liminal state of cryptid he is now- Ezra has walked this earth ageless and alone, never finding his place or a partner for long. He interrupts your meal in the city one evening, and brings you home to strike up a deal; feed from him, alone, and keep one another safe from discovery. The fact that he finds his purpose under the soft graze of your teeth and home between your thighs is a nice side effect.

Warnings: lots of blood, smut, soft yearning sweet boy Ezra, mapuche mythology and monsters, schmoop. Ezra is a subby little sap in this.

Word count: about 2.7k

________________

“Pleeeease, baby,” he begs, his chin tipping further up, neck curving back, pulse thundering under your slicked lips. His hand pulls at your hip, desperate to have you pressed all along his front. You oblige, your breasts sandwiched between your chest and his as you follow his backward tilt into the sofa backing.

His warmth bleeds into your skin, along with the sharp scent of moss, dirt, wood, life etching its way into the fibers of your soft cotton shirt. He tugs upward at the hem, wanting more skin, and you shift to accommodate.

You’ll always oblige him. You don't know how not to anymore. But he will still always ask.

“Ezra,” you sigh, letting his skin slide out of your wet mouth as he scrabbles for the buttons down your front. A line of that woodsy-scented blood crests over the swell of your full bottom lip, making you suck it between your teeth to swallow it. You can’t spill a drop of him. Even now, watching it pool slowly in the well of his collarbone feels like a sin. You lick over the pinpricks, sealing them, and lap away at the stains.

It would be a crime, wasting what he offers you freely.

He pushes the fabric off your shoulders and, finding you bare beneath, whines anew in his throat as you ease close again. He lets you so close. He wants you that close. Closer, even. Like it’s never enough unless you’re under his skin.

You tuck your nose against the hinge of his jaw, smelling the scent of him clinging to the scraggly beard that grows there. Moss hits the back of your tongue, makes you salivate. Your fangs drop again as you trace the sharp line of his jaw with the tip of your nose back to the bite already slowing on his skin. You lap at it, at the coagulating droplets there, twinned pinpricks.

“The other side, sweet thing. You haven’t had enough. Not yet.”

You hum in the back of your throat, dropping a kiss on his Adam's apple. It bobs under the press of your lips; tender. The pulse of him is still strong, the half cup you’ve taken barely noticed. He’s immortal as well- or as good as. Resilient. You can have much, much more.

“I have. I don’t need it.”

“You haven’t. Take your fill,” he says; pleads, really. You grin, quick and sharp, against his throat.

“Then fill me, Ezra.”

_______________

“Why are you following me?” You had slammed the moss-scented man into the bricks of an alley and pinned him with a hand on his shoulder. He held up his one hand and held your gaze easily.

“I’m not; not like that,” he explained. You wrinkled your nose at his scent again and suppressed a growl. “You’re ah – not human,” he hedged, blinking down the mouth of the alley. The street lamp at the end flickered and gave out. “Neither am I. Not anymore, anyway. Not really. Come somewhere quiet with me? I can explain.”

He had interrupted your meal. Your throat and chest burned and your skin prickled with how cold you were. “Fine.”

He had led you a few blocks away to a truck. Drove you outside of the city to a small farm edged in forest. You had spent the drive alternating between forcing yourself to ignore his pulse and body heat, and trying to pick out the notes of his heady scent.

He smelled like a dense, dark, old forest. Emphasis on the old. He smelled like everything from bright new leaf shoots to dense, herbal decay.

You learned that name was Ezra. He had a kid at home called Cee that isn't his but is now. He led you inside and called out up the staircase that he was home. A call returned, and he ushered you into the kitchen. You leaned against the counter, feeling every bit of how out of place the image was.

“Tell me about yourself. I’ve waited enough.”

“I will tell you anything you wish to know. But first, I interrupted your meal, sweet thing. I wonder if I can amend that?”

You snort, shaking your head. “Explain. And throw in why you smell like you bathe in Pine-Sol.”

Ezra smirks at you, his head tilted to the side, and nods. “Alright.” He slides onto a stool and props his elbow on the table.

“I am. Ah- approximately three- hundred and eighty- four years old. As a boy, I was playing in the woods with my brothers when a – a creature sought to chase us. We ran back for the village, to our family, but the creature caught up to me. It was- ah. A monster. We called them piwuchen. It hypnotized me, and very much intended to eat me, and steal my heart. I was helpless. My brothers ran and got the village’s medicine woman, a machi, and they came back and she killed it before it did more than bite me. The Machi touched me,” he touches the tuft of blonde at his temple and hums. “But the piwuchen had already bit me, and instead of staying under its spell, I was brought back by the Machi’s magic. My arm was amputated in an attempt to stem the spreading venom. And I aged slowly into adulthood, but no further. So I remain the same, and just… move around.”

You whistle low and make a mockingly impressed face at him. “Gonna have to Google that one. You gonna feed me, fae-boy, or am I hitchhiking back to town to drain some other asshole?”

Ezra grins at you and nods. “Fair enough. You’re welcome to try and feed from me. I admit I have never attempted to feed a vampire before.”

“How could you tell what I am?” You ask, watching him slip closer. He shrugs out of a zip-up hoodie, his right arm pinned, and is left in jeans and a tight gray tee shirt. You can smell his blood from here, washed over with the scent of damp earth and intricate root systems. He smells alive like nothing you’ve ever scented before.

“The ah- forest gift, whatever you want to call it, that was imbued upon me from the bite and the Machi’s magic, have left some side effects. My scent, as you have mentioned, is tinged with that of the forest creature’s. I am uncannily handy with direction and luring on a hunt. I can hypnotize, if I need to. And of course, the endless lifespan.”

He comes to stand right in front of you now, the tips of his boots framing your converse as you remain leaning against the counter. “So, I suppose, little bird... That like sees like.”

“Have you tried to die?” You ask, taking his wrist as he offers it up. His arm is toned but not bulky, the skin soft and supple, a beautiful golden- olive. The scent of dew on moss greets you as you bring your lips to his pulse in a kiss. He watches you test his skin, those dark eyes holding mostly curiosity. An odd sort of kinship, this.

One side of his face tics up in a knowing smile. “I have. Nothing takes.”

You hum in agreement, knowing well what the grip of ennui is like, as well as the disappointment when any action taken against it doesn't work.

“And what about the girl?”

“Another child lost in the woods, though fully human. She was fleeing a neglectful father, and got herself quite turned around. I am only ensuring she gets her education with a roof over her head and food in her belly. No nefarious intentions abound. You could no doubt scent it on me if there were.”

He’s not wrong. He smells too pure of intent. Evil sours the blood, and his is… Almost painfully clean.

Carefully, nearly afraid of what you’ll find, you pierce his wrist with one fang. He winces at the breaking skin but doesn't flinch.

His blood tastes– like blood. But gamey, almost. Old. Aged in jungle wood, with all manner of inclusions from the forest floor. You can pick out mushrooms, moss, fresh rain, bark. The drop you suckled out of the pinprick you made dissolves on your tongue. Nothing happens. The empty, aching burn in your chest grows from a single crackling log into a furnace, if anything.

He’s delicious.

Nothing negative seems to happen to you. Aside from the raging burn of your hunger, you feel fine. Your eyes flick up to his, and he nods, tipping his wrist back to your lips.

“Continue, sweet thing. Take your fill.”

_______________

Ezra has spent a long time alone. After his village aged on and he didn't; after the Spanish came and genocide sunk it's claws in. After the strange pox - sickness claimed those survivors. After he learned a new tongue and traveled across the mountains in search of anything- anywhere he could settle into, and only found more of the same. He kept trekking north, slowly and soundly. And never found anything that suited for long.

He has worn many hats. He has been a shaman, a translator, a guide. He has robbed graves and dug them, lived off the forest alone and killed countless Spanish conquistadores. He has been a cowboy, a stagecoach driver, a highwayman, a smuggler. Mostly a con artist. He has aided those he considered friends and killed those that he considered enemies.

And in all those endless lives, he has never felt wanted. Not since his chachay and papay and his brothers passed. He stayed with them, watched them age while he only made it to adulthood and never further. He cared for them, and comforted them when they went on. And every step since has been to find something he can feel in his blood but cannot find with his eyes.

He thinks, now- perhaps too poetically for his own foolish heart - that it has been you.

You like him. You will talk to him for hours, or curl into him on the sofa for a movie. Life has a painful domesticity now, with you and Cee. You don’t live with him, but you come by most days.

Cee likes you, talks to you amicably when you're there and asks after you when you’re not. Ezra likes that you two get along. His girls, and he always grins so wide when he says it.

Ezra wonders, if after a dozen lifetimes of being forgotten, questioned, reviled, exiled, othered– if he can finally have … This.

You, under him, your soft thighs parted around his shifting hips. His weight, on you; your breasts mashed on the rise of his pecs, your mouth, open and panting. He licks into you, thieving over your palate, making your fangs tingle. You pull back and drop them, nipping his lip and then soothing the sting with your wicked tongue. Without both arms to balance, he relies on you for some movement. You undulate against his hips, rising to meet each thrust, skimming your nails down his spine to dig at the meat of his narrow ass.

“Touch yourself, sweet thing. I would gladly bury my face down there for hours, strum that sweet little clit with my fingertips til you break apart if I could.”

“Roll us,” you pant against his mouth, and he is helpless but to comply.

You settle on his hips, his full weight and girth in the vice of your slick cunt. You squeeze him internally and he hisses, grappling with your waist to get you to move.

You have been coming to his little country house for months now. You and Cee still get along well; you often help her or talk to her about her studies, and then in the night, you take your fill of him, in whatever means you see fit.

He is happy to provide. To be of use.

To be wanted.

“You want it, sweet thing?” He pants, arching his neck up into your mouth, rutting his hips up in the tiny space you’ve left him. He’s quite effectively pinned. You have his one hand in your iron grip and the other closing around his throat.

“I want all of you, Ezra. You’re mine, yes?” your throat, lined with his blood, is claggy; your eyes glint like gems in the dark when they meet his.

His eyes dilate, and he goes still and pliant under your hands. Your teeth.

“I am, my sweet. You have me. All of me.”

He explodes moments later, with your hips snapping against his, his cock rooted deep in your core, and your hands still pinning him at wrist and throat. He fills you, at your sucking mouth and your clenching cunt, and you greedily take it all.

Later, when you’ve fed him and he rolls you over and makes you spread your tacky thighs for him, he licks the deep jungle- taste of his spend out of you, luring you steadily into a rolling orgasm that steals your breath.

He’s yours. And you’re his.

_______________

The sun does not kill you, but it is stifling and uncomfortable. You wear layers and hats if you have to go out. Working from home makes your life easier. Ezra often comes if you don't come to his for days. He wants to make sure you are fed, and well.

You catch him snoozing on your couch in a sun spot most of the time. Sometimes you curl against him, take a break from corporate bullshit to breathe in your own personal little forest clearing. Your job is a careful balance of keeping up appearances and giving yourself a task each day so you don’t let the ennui suffocate you again.

He bands his arm around your ribs in his sleep and hums, happy to have you close. It still strikes you at times, how close he allows you to rest. As if you’re not a threat to his very existence. As if you’re not a literal blood-sucking monster.

He has let you know, in brief spurts, how lonely he has been. You suppose that is part of why he has kept Cee. But she will be gone in a year, off to college and her own life. He has already ensured her success by way of a trust with his vast and quiet wealth. And when she is gone, he will only have… you.

You worry, sometimes, that you will be enough. That a few meals and fucks each week will satiate the gaping void in his chest left after eons of walking the earth alone.

But then he holds you tighter, and begs you to drink deeper, and take more from him, and softens into such languid peace when you declare him yours, with his blood on your lips and his cum dripping from you.

He is yours.

You have lived a few lifetimes to his dozens, and you have known him for the blink of an eye by comparison, but you would cheerfully prefer to starve to death, staked out in the sun, than taste anyone else’s blood again.

You are his. He found you, and lured you to his den. And fed you, filled you. He is under your skin, in your very veins, and you only want to crawl inside him and tear him to shreds with your affection. It’s an all-consuming thing, this untapped well of love you have for the first time in decades. You want to drown him in it.

You know he will sink willingly under your waters.

You tuck your nose under his scruffy chin and skirt your arm around the fading sun-spot, and allow sleep to draw you under.

#ezra/reader #ezra x reader #ezra prospect #ezra (prospect) #prospect (2018) #prospect movie #prospect film #cee (prospect) #reader insert #afab reader #no y/n #only description is having breasts enough to squeeze

[pedropascal24-7]

#pedro pascal #sophie thatcher #prospect film

[writer-darling]

Got bored; made this (my electricity is faulty at best rn so hopefully this posts 🤞🏽💚)

Tag List:  @luz-introvertida @castleamc @moralesfish  @december-gal1 @castleamcc @hillarymurray4 @supernaturalgirl @supernaturalgirl20 @sherala007 @littlemisspascal @practicalghost @donnaa @scorpio-marionette @kayleezra @amandanik23 @maxpbxtch97 @lowlights @shadesofnerdlygrace @harriedandharassed @carefulnowprincess @amneris21 @horton-hears-a-honk @xdaddysprincessxx @trickstersp8 @mandy-sings @mswarriorbabe80 @permanentlydizzy @teddy2510 @bitchwitch1981 @jedi-in-crocs @ezras-girl

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #ezra prospect #cee prospect #prospect film #prospect 2018 #pedro pascal lockscreen #pedro pascal wallpaper #sophie thatcher #writer darling

[the-streamer-girl]

Prospect

Yes, they should! I’ve seen so many comparisons of Joel to Din Djarin, and they’re valid--but if you’re a Pedro Pascal fan and haven’t seen Prospect yet, get on it because you need to meet Ezra. Joel and Ezra are definitely cut from the same cloth and certain moments from The Last of Us are directly parallel to events and dialogue in Prospect. Their accents are even similar! So do yourself a favor and check out this wonderful little indie sci-fi that needs some more love!

#pedro pascal #the last of us #tlou #prospect #prospect film #the mandalorian #joel miller #prospect ezra #din djarin

[melodramastuff]

Pedro Pascal for LOEWE by Branislav Simoncik & Jan Králíček

Dressed by @LOEWE Styled by Jan Králíček (@kralicek) Photo - Branislav Simoncik (@branislavsimoncik) Make up - Bill Corso (@bcorso) Hair - Courtney(Coco) Ullrich-Mooney (cocoullrich)

#pedro pascal #loewe #fashion #menswear #mensource #mensoutfit #the last of us hbo #joel miller #the mandalorian #din djarin #the bubble #dieter bravo #the unbearable weight of massive talent #javi gutierrez #wonder woman 1984 #maxwell lord #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #prospect film #ezra prospect #kingsman the golden circle #agent whiskey #narcos #javier pena #game of thrones #oberyn martell #pedropascaledit #ppascaledit #pedro pascal edit #pedrohub

[skyshipper]

A GIFT FOR KEEPER OF THE STARS

#pedro pascal #javier peña #din djarin #ezra prospect #frankie morales #the mandalorian #triple frontier #narcos #prospect film #skyshippergifs #keeper0fthestars #i felt like making a little something for cindy #she was one of the first people to chat with me here #and one of the first to be super supportive of my gifs when i was just learning #she'd reblog my sets and send requests #that meant so much to me when i was new to this fandom and still learning how to gif #i'll never forget that kindness #she even gave me the nickname sky which stuck #i see many others shared the same sentiments.... #how she was one of the first people to say hello and welcome others to this fan space #what a great reminder to welcome others at all times and in all aspects of life #sending hugs to all of you whether you knew her well or just had an occasional chat #i'm really going to miss her here #sending her family and all of you who know her casually or close lots of love #the stars to my sky

[mando-abs]

Y’all

I just started romancing Hodari in Palia and I’m so surprised on how he greets me now??? Like he’s so happy to see me now compared to his gruff but friendly greetings.

Also for my Pedro demographic, please read this. I just found this out and I feel cheated (even though I just felt it in my bones this wasn’t a coincidence).

He’s a miner and he’s got a creative teenager with spunk….now…who does that sound like….hmmmm

#and yes he’s like din too #also najuma has new dialogue now that I’m better friends with her #and ughhhh she’s just the sweetest kid #love her #palia game #palia #hodari #palia hodari #najuma #palia najuma #pedro pascal #prospect #prospect film

[morallyinept]

The Pit - An Ezra One Shot

^ Sound on 🔊

Summary: Ezra and you stumble into an ominous pit on a prospecting mission for coveted azure diamonds on the Narillan moon, and find more than you bargain for.

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 11.9k 👀 'Issa long one!

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here

Explicit - DARK-ISH themes/kinks/smut. Possibly an attempt at macabre/gore type horror? Ezra being a roguish douche (but that’s why we love ‘im). Tentacles. Lots of tentacles. Sex/Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!) Oral/insertion/pregnancy/birthing some weird stuff/alien life forms/interspecies intercourse/some mild dubcon/anal/slight hints of cannibalism, because at this point, why not? 🥴 And some other fucked up shit that my brain rot conjured up. Did I mention the abundance of tentacles?

Sci-Fi/Horror-esque. There’s some plot in there somewhere, I swear to Kevva.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

Author’s Note: Had this idea slithering around the ol’ noggin. Figured Ezra would be down because he’s fancy like that.

I am well aware that this won't be for everyone. If it's not for you, that's absolutely fine. Just quietly slip out. No need to make a fuss.

I'll have more Ezra that's coming soon, in different varieties/genres.

I'm pretty happy with the way Ezra talks in a manner befitting for him in this. I took my own advice. But I'll let you guys be the judge of that. Let me know if I captured him.

Enjoy! 🖤

MASTERLIST | EZRA MASTERLIST

“... Blasted, shit-eating things, channel rats. Did I regale you with the time my crew and I were subject to an unfettered infestation?”

Ezra prattles on ahead of you, further up the caverns, the light from his helmet casting an eerie glow about the dark boulder formations.

As far out as he is ahead of you, stepping oafishly over a knuckle of rocks, his voice is sound and droning inside your ear and there is no way to drown him out. Unless you garrotte him, of course.

Now, there’s a thought.

“Yes,” you sigh wearily. “I’ve heard all about the fucking channel rats.” Clubbing him to death with a rock sure sounded like a mighty fine idea about now.

You’re blinded by a small, white light flickering into the back of your retinas when he stops and turns to look back at you.

“Irritation becomes you, Birdie.” Ezra observes with a breathy gruff. It sounds like the crash of the ocean on Lau inside your ear. "Still captivating though."

You're beyond irritated having had the misfortune of listening to him rabble non-stop on this Kevva forsaken journey into the back end of the universe’s rectum it feels like. One that you’re beginning to regret inherently.

“We’re lost, Ezra. We’ve been lost for hours now. I thought you said you knew-”

“-Know these caves like the back of my right paw, yes. That is what I confirmed.” He offers a crooked smile as he waves his stump at you as you catch up to him. "Well, that's not at all disconcerting now is it?" He teases as the place where his right hand should be is filled with an obvious emptiness.

He frowns when you fail to laugh. “I may have offered you a partial truth. But I'm fairly certain I can navigate us to the root of our coveted gain unscathed.” He adds.

“Fairly?”

“It’s a diminutive guarantee.” Ezra affirms with a serious face. “Although, if I’m to be completely notwithstanding, Narilla is a place I’ve not set foot on before myself. But I've conversed greatly with those who have.”

“Fucking great.” You gripe as you reach him.

Your hair sticks to your face with sweat inside your helmet and it irks you that you can’t simply wipe it away as it catches on your lip tiresomely.

Traipsing around this dank, humid cave system on the forgotten moon of Narilla, with the wily and grossly unpredictable prospector as your guide, is not exactly the mission you'd envisioned when he’d lured you in over strong stout on Puggart Bench of such a daunting, yet rewarding charge.

You’d sat bemused, a few tables away with your scuff booted feet up eavesdropping, as you nursed your own beer, at vicarious tales of skulduggery and betrayal - his own included.

His aquiline face was well known around these putrid parts. As much as you’d love to avoid a feculent swamp like this on The Pug, populated with unsavoury characters in their swarms, it was a necessary evil to hear of good places to prospect now they’d closed up the Bakhroma route for good.

Kevva knows that prospectors could pilfer and loot better than anyone in The Fringe, and your own talents attested to this. Ezra too, had garnered himself an erudite reputation, even if marred in deceit, and a small fortune to retire from past ills that haunted the creases around his sullen eyes.

But yet he was still greedy for more as he bewitched you with promises of riches that would weigh down your pockets despite the preposterousness of it all. Such is the nature of a prospector; their greed knows no bounds. Cannot be satiated. And he could certainly talk the alluring talk, that was for sure.

Something more had drawn you in though; something about his Southern loquacious snap in which he weaved the threads of the fable about his eventful escape from the green moon of Bahkroma; an arm lost to it as well as some semblance of sanity it appeared.

He spoke through glassy, dark eyes, wide with tenacity, sluiced with the oncoming inertia from the hops and grains, and his story pulled a crowd of fellow miners and prospectors keen to hear the anecdotes pouring from his foam drenched moustache, as ludicrous as they were.

Most dismissed it as the drunken ramblings of a mad man quacking into his drink; scarred by his time on the haunting moon and her secrets, and perhaps it did drive him crazy to some extent.

However, Ezra rambled on animatedly about plentiful azure diamonds to anyone that would listen that were hidden in the caves under the frozen surface of Narilla. His story was backed up by those who had heard their own quips. Someone who knew someone who had garnered the moon's wealth for themselves, it was all the same spiel.

Like the twinkle in his eye, you simply couldn’t resist the temptation of their siren call and offered yourself up to accompany him on the collection of such rare, precious gems - Kevva knows the fortune was needed on your part - when a scant few turned away unconvinced. Gems that would fetch much more than Aurelac on the black market anyhow.

Whilst some of the gnarly men expressed their keen interest, Ezra denied them, setting his deep eyes on you.

I require a right-hand… woman, Ezra had stated, looking you up and down with something else inside of his vortex gaze as he supped at the foam from his weighty glass.

He’d shooed away the other potential partners in favour of you and your shapely form that he drank in as much as the beer.

You’d discussed with him the terms and your share of the haul, insisted on absolutely no impropriety, (for which you fell short on later that evening) and here you both were now, docked and stationed on the frozen moon and wandering around the intestines of the caves listening to him harp on about everything and nothing, and all that was gassy air in between.

Your teeth ache from all the grinding.

“Can you attach a slurry? I'm irrevocably parched, pet.” Ezra asks you, panting a little. There's condensation frosting around the rim of his helmet and sweat beads glistening on his forehead.

"I'm not your pet."

"Merely a term of endearment. An otherwise befitting compliment may be too fruitful to assume your acceptance into anything more than acquaintance." He shrugs.

"You assume much." Sighing, you busy yourself with the idle task as you attach the pack to the back of his cargo belt and cap it into the feeding tube for him.

“Do you have any idea where we are?” You query, checking your chronometer and scanning the vast dark abyss that presents itself to you.

The green icons and symbols are blurring faintly through the invisible static, fading like emerald apparitions.

Back on the lander, the static interfered with everything as soon as you entered the atmosphere, and it only unnerved you that, if things should go awry, you would be out here by yourselves.

“Shouldn’t be much further ahead, I’d wager.” Ezra breathes around his straw inside his helmet. He licks his lips as he watches your scornful look tossed back at him. He simply offers you a knowing smirk.

“Lead the way,” you instruct with a knitted brow.

You follow him further into the breach of the dark; the strobes from your mutual head lamps making eerie patterns on the rock walls that claw and silently growl as they come to life like shadow puppets.

A while later Ezra stops dead in his tracks, raising his singular left hand. You hadn’t noticed he’d stopped; too occupied with convincing yourself that you weren’t seeing ominous things slithering around in the shadows.

You walk right into the back of him; your helmet bonking against the back of his. You utter some annoyed profanity that fuzzes into his ear piece.

“Kevva! What's that smell?” You question, wrinkling your nose as it seeps through your respirator. It smells like tar, coating the back of your throat in its thickness like amber tobacco as you inhale.

Ezra studies the wall beside him carefully, noticing the ominous sheen and runs his gloved hand through the goop that coats it.

“The stench emanates from this peculiar secretion.” He pries apart his velvet fingers and the sticky substance is stringy between the fibres. He lances you a look with keening eyes.

Your mind is flooded with skewbald images of your cunt slick beading over his lips, making them shine up at you as your thighs cushion either side of his head. Your groans, his lavacious grunts, batter around the back of your skull and leave broken contusions.

The shiny strings snapping on his gloves serve as a harsh reminder, which you're certain he's recalling in all it's sordid vividity too. Your pussy certainly is as it clenches involuntarily.

“Gross.” You declare as he tries to stifle a wolfish grin at your reaction.

“We push on, Birdie.” Ezra announces, wiping the slime down on the thigh of his olive flight suit.

“Stop calling me that.” You mutter, following behind.

“Well, you won’t tell me your name so I have to call you something.”

“No names.” You remind him.

“I recounted mine freely.”

“No names.” You confirm.

"Kevva's sake, you are stubborn as you are loathsome, woman." He mutters.

“That’s not what you said the other night." You smirk.

"I divulged a lot of soundbites that eve." Ezra can still hear the sounds you made around him, not put off by his apparent incapacitation. “As did you. But yet a mere name seems implausible.”

"Do you ever shut up?"

Ezra thought for a moment then smirked brazenly. "Only when a succulent quim takes throne on my face."

You roll your eyes. "Look, we get the diamonds, we leave and I don’t have to suffer your intolerable, repetitive anecdotes ever again. My name is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things." You growl, sucking your bottom lip into your teeth.

You can hear him chuckling away in your ear piece with a wheezy rasp. “Desperate to be rid of me already? I might flirt with the offended.”

“Pfft. You’ll get over it.” You mirth.

Although a shifty flush creeps insidiously into your already overheated cheeks, as uninvited images of him grunting as you sat on his hawkish face invade your mind like knives at a target board.

He could certainly put that mouth to good use. The thoughts your mind still conjures makes the inside of your helmet stifling.

The smell gets stronger as you meander closer to wherever the heck it is that Ezra is leading you into. A wider cavern opens itself up and you climb upon its slope exercising caution at his instruction to follow.

“One slip and the void will take you,” he warns with a simper rolling around his dry lips.

“Don’t tempt me,” you reply sardonically. You both step slowly and carefully along the ledge as the vertigo sways you towards its jaws. Steadying yourself, you push on behind him.

The tar-like smell intensifies when Ezra announces you’ve both arrived. Although you're hardly impressed - it's just another cavern like the million you’ve already hiked through to get here. You watch as he unclips his helmet spokes and the hiss of his respirator sounds snakelike inside your ear.

“Can we breathe down here?” You question warily at his flippancy.

“Assist me, would you?” He asks as he inhales through a toothy grin, nodding.

Once your own helmet is off, the subtle breeze of clean oxygen hits your face, cooling it. It's incredibly warm down here, considering the moon is in the midst of a deep freeze on the surface.

You watch as Ezra steps forward to another ledge and looks down. “There,” he points.

You step forward yourself and shine a light and are aghast at what you see.

A writhing mass of black, wet tentacles, twisting and undulating in an eerie dance. The glistening surface of each tentacle reflecting an otherworldly sheen, while they move with an unsettling fluidity.

Unfathomable thrumming spirals are spilling out around the pit below the ledge, moving in a coordinated, yet unpredictable manner, in various girths and lengths. Slick as they writhe against one another, pulsing like a singular heartbeat.

“What is that?” You mouth incredulously.

Upon closer inspection, faint iridescent patterns shimmer along the length of the tentacles, creating an illusion of ethereal beauty amidst the stark darkness, like they almost glow in places. The patterns shift and change as the tentacles move.

As the mass undulates gently, it seems to emit a low hum, barely audible, but one that can be felt deep within your chest, resonating with a haunting melody. It's a sound that stirs emotions buried in your subconscious, eliciting a mix of awe and wonder, tinged with an underlying sense of unease as you feel prickles shoot down your spine.

“Our entrance. Hmm. Bigger than I was infromed. No bother. We'll go through it.” Ezra pulls down the zipper of his flight suit and begins shaking it off of his only arm clumsily.

“Wait, what? Through it? What the fuck is it?!” You query, wide-eyed.

The enigmatic display of black, wet tentacles in this mysterious mass is a surreal and haunting sight, one that leaves you captivated by its beauty, while your rational mind reminds you of the depths of the unknown that lie within.

All you can envision is teeth. Sharp, piercing teeth.

“Take your suit off, pet.” He instructs calmly.

“Ezra.” You shake your head concerned.

He rolls his suit over his stump and down to his thermals. “It protects the diamonds. We need to go through it. We’ll pass right through, out to the bottom when they see we're not a threat to them. No harm done.”

“Are you fucking insane?”

“That's yet to be determined officially.” Ezra responds nonchalantly. “Although, I’ve been reassured that this is-”

“Wait, you’re basing this off of hearsay? How do you know that thing won’t fucking eat us?” You're sweating again.

Ezra rolls his suit down to his ankles and begins pulling at the lace of his worn boot. “I don’t.” He simply retorts.

“No.” You shake your head adamantly. “You can go and die if you want. I’ll wait here.” You’d encountered many odd alien-like entities in your time prospecting, but this? This is something else entirely.

You peer carefully over the ledge, seemingly unable to look away at the mass of tentacles that are free of suckers. They're just smooth and slick in their perfection. Lost in the horrific beauty and mystique of the scene, you feel a magnetic pull, as if the mass of tentacles beckons you to join its dance.

A part of you yearns to step closer, to unravel the secrets it holds, and yet another part hesitates, fearing the unknown consequences of such a connection. In the midst of this ghastly display, a heavy feeling of dread envelops you, like an invisible hand tightening around your heart that crushes.

“Nu-uh, Birdie." Ezra warns, darkly. "We go together as agreed upon in our oath. You need to play your part and help me to retrieve the diamonds. Can’t embark on this without you, given my infernal impediment.” Ezra turns to look at you with those muddy eyes, and it's beguiling as it is dangerous.

You stare down at the pit unmoving.

"No harm will come to you under my watch." He reassures, but it fails.

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

He simply offers you a small smile. "Can but wait, Birdie. Let's get a leg on."

“I must be fucking insane…” You mutter, shaking your head. Sighing, you take off your own suit and strip down to your undergarments.

“Good girl,” you hear him say.

You catch Ezra glancing at your bare legs as you're dressed in nothing short of flimsy shorts and a thin camisole that barely covers your modesty under your thermals.

His own undergarments are a frayed t-shirt and some fusty long johns that sit awkwardly under the small paunch of his soft belly.

But he seems to pull them off as your own eyes sway towards the memory of his body on the fraying futon as it writhed and shuddered whilst you sucked down the swell of his cock, back in his dingy bunk apartment nestled in the Noki District on The Pug.

For a man of his advancing years, you think him to be attractive in a roguish kind of way; a scummy diamond in the rough. Scummy enough to have let him eat you out, anyway.

Breathing calmly - or at least trying to - you sit beside him on the edge of the pit staring down at the glistening appendages that swam in a hypnotic pulse against one another.

The sounds of their wet slick can be heard as they slide and pass over one another in heaving waves; a wet shine evident on their alien corium that glimmers at you.

You’re not sure why you're doing it, but you reach forward instinctively and feel the skin of one as you run your palm over it gently, awed by the sensation that leaves prickles flooding down your spinal cord.

The electricity creeps up each nodule and into the bottom of your neck. It feels comforting, soothing as the previous hesitation you felt is washed away in a calming opacity that soon melts your eyelids shut.

The tentacle arches up into your palm, bumping it benignly as its secretions coat your skin with a cooling, thin substance that feels miry as it greets you.

As you attempt to retreat, the allure of the scene grips you, holding you in a trance-like state, unable to tear your eyes away from the eldritch horror that unfolds before you. It's as if the entity, sensing your fear, seeks to draw you deeper into its realm, to become a part of its ancient enigma. To whisper it's secrets in your ear.

The luminescence now reveals disturbing images etched into the tentacles' surface - visions of cosmic terrors, nightmarish landscapes, and grotesque creatures. Each tentacle seems to bear the collective knowledge of the horrors of the universe, driving you to the edges of precarious sanity.

A cacophony of unnerving sounds emanates from the mass - the raspy whispers, unnerving wails, and an ominous heartbeat that seems to reverberate through your own veins. The dread within you intensifies, and an overwhelming feeling of claustrophobia engulfs you as it reaches its zenith; as if the darkness itself is closing in on you, and it has snapping jaws.

“Birdie,” you can hear Ezra bleed into your ominous tranquillity, but he sounds so far away. Like his voice is at the bottom of a metal wire, sounding tinny and ruptured.

The sudden panic in his voice shakes your foundations leaving you unsteady. But it's not him making you sway as you open your eyes to see yourself falling, face first.

You’re tethered by the tentacles wrapping around your ankles and wrists and pulling you forward into the mass of them.

“Ezra!” You gasp trying to repel them as they reach for you, but the combined strength of the slithering organs is undeniable.

You're both immobilised as you're dragged down into the pit. Ezra disappears first; the whites of his wide eyes are the last thing you see before you're blinded by the black.

The stickiness coats your face, your eyelids. It slicks through your hair; a clear, thin mucus that smells like musky, rich leather and allows you to move freely through the tentacles as you descend further.

"Birdie!" You hear Ezra call out to you and you call back frantically. "Just relax, it will pass you right through."

"Relax?!" You splutter when you feel the prevalent tightening around your waist. It's too tight as it starts to bind and crush against your pelvis.

"Trust me!" He calls again. Oh, if it were that simple, you snarl to yourself.

You try to calm yourself, relax as he so eloquently puts it. But it’s hard; the panic seeds and flowers in you and the coil only tightens under your rib cage in response. It knows your fear.

As it embraces you, tentacles wrapping around every limb and numbing them out, you feel the weightlessness of your body as it travels to the back of your cranium and ignites. You can't see anything, just the never ending void of black that hurts your eyes to try and strain them to reach beyond it.

A sense of foreboding lingers, as if a malevolent entity from the mass of tentacles watches from the shadows; its sinister presence ever-present in the periphery of your senses.

As you sink through the darkness, the very air seems heavy with an oppressive weight, and the pulsing surroundings of the tentacles appear distorted, as if the boundaries between reality and the unknown have blurred.

Each sound in the darkness makes you jump, fearing that some other force might be lurking too close.

A small glimmer fizzes somewhere in the distance, blink and you’d miss it. Purple, maybe blue flashes that spark through a plasma network of neuron pathways that fire and snap ahead. A brain that grows in size and expands. A dying star implodes and blinds you for a moment.

You gasp out in awe and are then fully weightless; floating in the violet nebula that’s haunting in its brilliance, its swirling tendrils stretching across the cosmic canvas like an ethereal tapestry.

As you gaze at the purple nebula, a sense of calm washes over you, momentarily easing the fear and tension that had consumed your senses previously.

The swirling clouds of gas and dust seem to dance with grace, performing an elegant ballet that holds you in rapt attention. You forget everything, you forget it all.

You can't feel your limbs, you can't feel the weight of your bones or the blood in your organs. You can't smell or taste. You're deafened by bubonic silence save for the heavy whooshes of your own breath inside your ear canal.

And then the nebula shrinks, collapsing upon itself into two tiny balls of light that morph and shape into eyeballs with irises the colour of those tasteless Bitz Bars you’d endured on lengthy missions.

The eyes stare at you, they see into you; unblinking and you can feel them rifle around inside the deepest trenches of your mind, picking and rummaging with spidery fingers. And you can only let them as they see all of your sordid secrets and lay them out like sharp medical instruments.

Then thin, wiry nerves root and track from behind them; a skull forms around the eyeballs. Muscles and viscera wrap and coil around a skeleton as the skin grows over it like fungi and tans in colour.

Ezra is before you; naked and plump in his lower belly fat and a thick, flaccid cock hangs between his legs. He’s staring back and floating like you are in this chaotically still space. His stump bears no scars, just perfectly smooth, taut skin around the missing bone like marble.

You can only watch as his cock stiffens and begins to drip mercury. You’re not sure where it comes from, maybe something in the stratosphere, maybe something in your core, but the overwhelming feeling of desire bubbles and courses through your veins making them burn under your skin.

You feel the tentacles again, pulsing and vibrating around you.

There is no other sensation except the feeling of his only arm pulling you towards him and then his lips are crushing against your own, smothering.

You're not repulsed as you taste him; his invading tongue filling your mouth and sliding down your throat that opens willingly for him.

You let him in, you want him to be inside you like this, even though somewhere inside of you, your voice is shrieking and howling at you to resist the ratty bastard. It’s a need that requires satiation.

Any resistance is smothered by the heat between your legs; the wetness that leaks from your swollen cunt lips and mashing into the meat of your thighs as you squeeze them together deliciously to equally appease and chase that desire.

You feel his ever-growing tongue reaching into the back of your oesophagus and expanding; sliding deep down into your guts as you choke and splutter around it as it restricts your airway.

Breathing through your nose is impossible as it fills with the sticky mucus that attaches to the fine cilia suffocating you further.

You try to resist now, to pull away but your limbs still won't work. Your fingers won’t cooperate. You can't feel them. All you can feel is Ezra invading your body through your mouth and licking out every crevice of it with his elongated tongue.

You can feel the cramping in your stomach as he prods around down in there, pushing against your muscles and fat; crushing your offals and lapping at your stomach acids.

You want to scream so badly, but all that comes out around his tongue is moans of abject satisfaction. Your own voice, your own sounds are so alien to your ears. You're enjoying this and you want more, so much more from him.

You feel your mouth fill from your gullet upwards; something warm rising up from the back of your throat from around his tongue as it floods you. Its viscosity bubbles and pools out the side of your lips and down your chin.

Ezra pulls back and you see it; his tongue now black and shiny and no longer pink and fleshy - or human. The flippering tentacle disappears back into his smiling mouth as you gasp for air.

You cough up a thick, white substance that projectiles from you, choking you as you heave it out down your chest.

Somewhere, you know this taste; familiar from your own experiences of swallowing unworthy men’s loads on your knees as they ejaculated into your eager mouth on lonely nights around The Pug.

Somewhere through the heady confusion, you know this is wrong on so many levels as you belch and splutter through bringing up the seminal pearl flow in droves.

A subtle yet unsettling change occurs. The glistening black, wet tentacles from the malevolent mass re-emerge in the scene, twisting and snaking their way into the cosmic display as you splutter.

At first, the juxtaposition of the tentacles against the cosmic backdrop seems incongruous, like an intrusion of darkness into the splendour of the nebula.

However, as you watch, you begin to sense a strange harmony between the two that bleeds into your skin.

The tentacles are back around your body, cinching and curling around your waist, clamping around your wrists. You feel the alluring tickle of something travelling up your thigh and your eyes widen.

“Ezra… It’s-it’s-” you stutter as you feel it snake up your inner thigh and under the hem of your shorts.

“Let us in, Birdie. It’ll feel so good.” Ezra drenches the promise inside your ear, licking and sucking the shell of it. His fingers skim your clit, furrowing inside your shorts and opening your lips for the tentacle to slip fully inside, filling you up. “We’ll make you feel so good.”

You cry out as it slides in, slippery and thick. It stretches you wide, a slight burn from the jarring friction that soon settles into undulating pleasure.

It shouldn’t feel like this, it shouldn’t feel so… good.

You feel a mix of emotions - fascination, fear, and an inexplicable sense of reverence - as you feel it penetrate you deeply. The tentacles, once harbingers of horror, now evoke a different kind of awe.

“Fuck, it feels so good...” You chime falling backwards into the universe.

“Mmm, there you go,” Ezra smiles and you feel his fingers slipping quicker over your engorged clit making you flinch and breathe out dust each time he flicks it. “Let us fuck you, little bird. We’re one now.”

You can hear Ezra; the haunting groans and gasps fill your ears like lead. It’s everywhere around you, echoing and you can’t escape the sounds of his pleasure on loop as you’re fucked by the rogue tentacle stretching you out the further it whelves inside of you.

You can see yourself, devoured by the coils slipping all over your skin; watching yourself get dicked by this entity that knows what you want, knows how to pleasure you like no man could.

Your pussy welcomes the deep thrusts it gives you and you writhe and moan, losing your eyesight. The features on your face dissolve away leaving you a faceless putty for them to remould and sculpt, and you twist and bend to their will.

You’re lost to it; succumbed fully by an invading desire and heat, and the sounds of Ezra’s grunting hammering inside your ears as it rocks through the nebula; a big bang of grunts and heady snarls that rip through the very seam of existence.

But when you finally open your eyes as they grow back into your sockets, he’s no longer there.

All you can see is the nebula again. All you can feel is the fullness between your thighs; the never-ending release it offers as it pumps you full of its seed. The nebula winks back at you and pulses around the edges.

You feel the bunching behind your stomach walls, the fluttering of your pussy spasming and squeezing as you’re pulled apart and smashed back together again, at one with the cosmos.

You cry out; you can see your voice as it shatters into metallic fragments and rains chrome glitter all over you that coats and nicks your throat.

Your gasps birth new stars from your mouth as they find their place in the dust and gases that swirl around your body, completely obliterating it.

And when it’s come and gone, the waves settling as you fall still from the exhausting aftermath, there’s nothing once more; just the never-ending expanse of black.

You breathe out through soaked trembles, and just as he advised, the grip falters and you descend again slowly through the pulsating coils that slide sticky against your face and gums.

You drop and land clumsily onto something solid; the hard, real ground. Your tailbone hits it first and you wince.

Your fingers shakily register the feel of something you recognise and yet it doesn’t seem entirely real as you scrape your brittle nails into the rock beneath your face to be sure.

But your cunt is still contracting; squeezing around a vacant space where you were sure you were penetrated and filled by something thick and binding, and oh so fucking good.

Something that felt indescribable and you mourn its loss irrevocably.

You eye him carefully as he looks back at you with a singular outstretched palm laced with blisters and callouses lanced towards your face.

Ezra helps you up onto jellified legs and above you the tentacles writhe a lowly metre or so above your heads in a hypnotic dance that seems to defy and mock gravity.

Ezra reaches up, his only hand brushing against the swell of the membranes that roll and curl tightly around one another.

"Curious…" He mumbles as the slick glides effortlessly through his calloused fingers; a cosmic ballet of twisting and pulsing.

“What is it?” You ask, dumbfounded and awed.

Your voice doesn't register as your own. You feel like you’ve been swamped in a heavy sleep, plagued by dreams of untold, lucid delights that you can still feel throbbing on your clit.

You’re unsure if it really happened or not and try to shake the delusion, yet you feel yourself pining for it.

You peer at Ezra carefully, looking for any sign that he endured a similar experience, and yet his face is as unreadable in its mischievousness and stoniness as usual.

Your skin feels wet and sticky, your mouth remembers the taste, and his body mirrors your own, coated in the shiny lacquer from passing through the tar coils. His hair is slicked back and darker, almost black, save for the white patch that is stark in its platinum yellow glow; a tiny sun being swallowed in a sea of putrid oily tufts.

The undergarments cling to his skin, saturated and binding and making no attempt to hide the swell of his cock inside of them.

As he glances at you with an astonished smirk, you feel something pull tight in your abdomen; a distant hunger gnawing at the edges of rationality and the sense that you’re unable to get a firm grip on reality anymore.

“A cephalopod of some origin, or many. I've heard tales of Krakens before, but not like this.” Ezra admires bewitchingly as he strokes above him. “It feels…” He closes his eyes and you watch him rise on his tiptoes with a small smile blooming over his mouth. “Sentient.” He concludes through a nasally breath lost inside his thick drawl.

He drops his hand slowly as a lone tentacle feeds down from the others in front of him. You watch rooted as it rubs itself across his broad chest and slithers around him. It runs between his thighs and he moans as it brushes against his cock.

"Uh, this one seems incredibly obliging," Ezra exclaims as he glances at you with astonished mirth bleeding into his ratchet peepers.

You watch it disappear down inside the back of his long johns.

He groans out, his body jars forward but he doesn’t fall; the tentacles have him secured by his arm and back as he becomes weightless in front of you.

“Ezra,” you start forward to assist him, but are stopped when he hisses out, baring his teeth.

He loses his eyes as they roll back into his skull.

“Fuh-uck,” he whines loosely as though his teeth are no longer in his mouth, and you realise you’ve heard this sound before; the sounds of pleasure bursting through the cavity of his chest into your ears.

The same noises he made under you on The Pug with mouthfuls of your seeping cunt.

The tentacle penetrates him and you're drawn into the vortex of his mouth pulling your eyes from their trenches to drink their jelly. You can only watch, body pulsing, skin fraying, as it fucks him right in front of you.

"Kevva, that's deep," he groans, with a blissed out smile.

Then you feel it; it's warm as it glides over your navel and across your skin leaving a moist, sluggish trail. The tentacles bring you together, cocooning you both as Ezra pulls you towards his chest.

And you're not resisting again, instead letting him welcome you into his one-armed embrace.

His body feels good against yours, too good. Like the slats in your rib cages were meant to interlock.

It seems as if he can hear your thoughts and you watch as he opens his chest from the centre; fingers ripping through flesh as he pries open his bony cage and welcomes you into the balloons of his lungs.

Your nose wanders and inhales through his papery bronchioles; they dust into your face like fluffy dandelion seeds and float into the ether.

"Need you inside of me," you groan to him as if in a trance as his sticky heart jostles against your lips as it beats.

You lick across it, sucking on a throbbing ventricle delicately as his blood coays your teeth, and he whines out louder as he ejaculates into his long johns.

“I already am,” Ezra grunts, eyes rolling to the back of his skull again like loose marbles as the crest of his hips buck forward.

You pull back to see him whole once more and glance at the huge, black shape filling you up, fucking into you.

His own cock is hard and weeping pearly globules of come as it rubs against the tentacle with fantastic friction. Your fingers peel him apart; stripping him down to the hard, muscled core of his dick, and he writhes and groans under your touch as you obliterate him.

You look back at his face and he’s swallowing down a thick tentacle inside of his plush mouth before yours is invaded again by the wet velvet.

He fills your holes, all of them. You can feel him stretch out your pussy, sliding in and out with his thick appendage that makes you buck uncontrollably. He feels so plentiful and thick. He slips into the tight crevice of your ass, filling and stretching you wholly and he's inside your mouth; feeling him graze at the back of your throat as he thrusts and chokes you.

He's everywhere, and yet Ezra pulls you close into his scarred chest again whilst he himself is filled in every orifice he possesses and it's still not enough.

He wants to climb inside your skin. You know it, because it's exactly what you want. It’s what you crave. To rest in the sponge of his brain.

You can hear him insipidly rambles to you all the ways in which he wants to devour you for eternity.

His whines set your skin alight; the oil burning you up as it sears and chokes you. That tar-like smell wafting around you both as it smokes you out and leaves you breathless.

“I can see it,” he mutters, but it doesn't come from his mouth, no that’s full of the pulsing thick membrane that fucks him like they fuck you.

Instead, you can see his voice, moving across the nebula as he sings on music scales, lighting up the treble clefs with supernovas.

“Can you see it, Birdie?” He asks you, each red giant twinkling with his din and tone before it dies, and you can. In their dance, the tentacles reveal a deeper truth - that even the most terrifying entities can be transformed by the beauty and wonder of the cosmos.

They are a reminder that in the vastness of the universe, there is a balance between darkness and light, chaos and order, horror and beauty and you understand that now as you approach another climax.

“It’s so fucking beautiful.” You gasp, tears filling your eyes.

You arch your back; your spine cracks through each vertebrae as they pulverise into dust and you collapse in on yourself, boneless and spent once more.

You can feel it and it feels exhilarating to die and be reborn over and over.

You gush around the tentacle and onto Ezra’s soft stomach swell as you come unrestrained, and for what feels like for infinity.

You’ve never fully understood the meaning of the word euphoria until now.

Soon Ezra lets go of you; his own body arching grotesquely and crushing inwardly. His mouth opens as the tentacle ejects, spewing out thick, creamy liquid in a silent scream as he rolls back into the mass of pulsing coils to be devoured all over again.

He twists and turns and you see his left hand come down his shoulder, tugging at the skin below his blade that houses his clipped stump.

Then another hand, and another; more human hands that are his own with the thumb on the left side and all with the tiny bullseye tattoo inked and faded on the web of skin between his thumb and forefinger.

His various left hands are pulling the skin open so you can see his spine through the tears. Small, onyx tendrils move under the bones and he bleeds out that thick, seminal fluid between his contracting muscles.

Ezra removes his skin like removing a sweater and you scream into the void.

Birdie.

You hear him through the sludgy goop inside your ears; a faint rumble of your body as you are gently shaken awake by thick fingers pulling you out of inertia.

You're on the ground again and the pit of writhing tentacles is still a dark swarm threatening to rain upon your heads. You stare at it, watching it pulse and simper. Trying to understand its secrets, its desires.

Trying to detest it with every fibre of your being but not quite managing to.

There's a chasm where that feeling should be.

Ezra's worrisome face pulls your senses towards him and you clutch onto his arm, reassuring yourself that he's real. Real muscle and bone.

You flinch when you think you see something move under his skin, but it’s just his vein as he tenses.

"What did you see?" He asks you darkly. His eyes are as black as the darkest corners of the universe.

"See?" You ponder it dumbly for a moment as it all floods back to you.

“You were screaming.” He explains.

"I... I'm not sure." You mumble.

"I've deduced that this creature can telepathically link itself to our minds in a mere quest of bewitchment. It can show us our wildest, unarmed desires, or toss us into a gully of the most sordid nightmares." His eyes have shifted into something that you’ve never seen on his face since meeting him - fear.

"What did you see?” You prompt him instead, sitting up. Your head feels like it’s been split into two and neither of your brains can comprehend this scenario fully.

His eyes drop to you and he helps you to your feet clamping his singular hand around your elbow as he yanks.

"Felt so real," he utters through a clenched mouth. Or surreal. You're not quite sure what he says as your face draws up to his.

He glances at you and touches your cheek, cupping it gently. You feel the thick pad of his thumb pull on your bottom lip as he admires the wet, pink flesh of your gums with some irreverent hunger.

"So real." He repeats with darker, hooded eyes.

"Ezra," you steer, peeling his fingers delicately from your skin, despite them soldering into your flesh, and he seems to snap out of it.

He recoils back as though he has been stung. "We need to find a way to leverage our exit." He announces flatly.

"What about the diamonds?" You rub at your arms and they don’t feel like they are attached to you anymore. Neither do your legs and it takes you a moment to realise you are standing freely on them.

"They don't appear to be harbouring any gems down here. I fear we may have been taken in by a ruse." He scowls bitterly.

"You mean you were." You mutter. “I just stupidly came along.”

Ezra sighs loudly and sharply and steps forward craning his head up to the tentacles. He mutters something that you don’t quite catch.

"You're expecting them to give us a ride?" You scoff at him.

"Do you have a more eloquent stratagem? I'm all ears."

"Yes. I'm not going in there again." You say with an inherent coldness prickling at your skin. But yet it’s still hot and dense between your legs.

"Tell me woman, what's rattled you with the visions they gave you?"

"It doesn't matter," you say, turning away from him.

Although you’re not entirely sure if they were just visions. You search along the sharp rocky walls and follow them round with your eyes and there is no obvious sign for escape.

The only way out is back up through them. If they will allow you to leave, that is. The thought makes you cold.

“Birdie, I…” Ezra starts and pauses for a moment. “I know this outcome isn’t what we forecast when this expedition matriculated between us.”

“You think?”

“But I must riposte, that we need to find a way out and the only one presented to us is from whence we came. So if you would find it in you to trust me, then I believe I can lead us out of here fully intact.”

“Trust you, you say?” You snort flippantly.

“Yes. A big ask, I am well aware of its weight.” He scowls at you this time.

“We did things.” You breathe. "You and I, we... copulated."

The words roll off your tongue and you want to shove them back into your mouth and suck the fat from them, but he’s already heard them and is mentally clipping them apart in his bank of memories to keep the best of them - the most sordid.

“I remember vividly our foreplay on The Pug, but you insisted on no penetration and I kept my word. I may not be a gentleman, but I'm no cavalier scoundrel."

"Yes, I know-"

"-Was a satisfaction garnered for us both as I recall. No-one has ever... ” His head snaps towards you with intrigue. "Are you keen to indulge the liasion?"

“No. I mean... Here. That’s what I saw. We didn't just play this time. Us. It’s what I-”

“Felt.” Ezra finishes for you and you nod as you realise that’s what he felt too. His cock, still tenting against his undergarments, reassures you of that.

“And then we were apart. Like, pulled apart from the insides. I watched you remove your skin. Was it real or did we dream it or…? Kevva, I have no idea what is fucking real or not right now.” You mutter, running your hand through your damp, disgusting hair.

“Did you hit your peaks of satisfaction?” Ezra asks.

"What?"

"Did you come, pet?"

Your cheeks feel hot and you fold your arms sighing. “Yes.” Your stomach pulls tight and it makes you grit your teeth.

“As did I.” He admits freely. "Felt like I couldn't stop. It was kinda nice. Tingly."

He closes his eyes and you watch as his free hand drifts down his sternum and palms his cock over the wet fabric with a soft squeeze, clearly not deterred by your presence.

“It wasn’t you. I mean you weren’t inside me, but you were all the same. It’s confusing. What does it want?” You ask looking up at the swell that seems to hum again. Your palm is running gentle circles against your gut that feels hot.

“I don’t believe it wants anything insidious. It just feels and thrives like we do. It has cravings.” Ezra explains, wandering closer under the centre of it.

You shudder and ponder the creation of such an organism, that you summarise mentally and agree, is not too dissimilar from yourself or Ezra. It exists in the most basic of forms, to feed, to fornicate, to-

You feel a sharp twinge in your lower belly and groan.

“You creamy?” Ezra asks.

“Yeah just… Aaargh!” You hiss and double over clutching your stomach. Horrific cramping churns inside of you and you watch aghast as watery blood trickles down your thighs and legs.

“Ezra!” You shriek hysterically, but he’s wrenched away from your aid as the tentacles swoop down and grab you up in their clutches.

His frantic voice is drowned out as the black takes you again.

This place is too bright.

It glitters and glares at you in a striking cobalt like you’ve never seen before. It takes a while for your eyes to adjust but when they do, you find yourself sprawled on a never-ending bed of sharp diamond pieces.

Millions of them are scattered over the ground, around your feet; cutting into your buttocks and back as you’re spread over them like you’ve been dumped in here carelessly.

They’re protruding out of the rock walls and you can see them sparkle above you, twinkling like distant stars through a kaleidoscopic blue galaxy.

Your fingers rifle through them and clutch them, squeezing the shards. You watch as your skin is pierced and bleeds, yet you feel no physical pain.

The beauty stuns you for a moment and you forget your predicament for a while as you just marvel in the perplexity.

But you’re soon shoved back into it when you feel the cramps twist up your cervix and you scream out in agony.

“Ssh, it’ll soon be over, dove.” You hear Ezra’s soothing drawl and see a million of his hawkish faces in every facet gleaming at you.

He crunches over the diamonds as he walks, bare feet bleeding and he’s naked. Cock lithe and hard, dripping with a pearly secretion you long to drink from.

He no longer has a stump where his right arm should be, but a long thick tentacle that pulses and squirms excitedly as he strides towards you.

He crouches down at your feet, parting your thighs and runs his tongue up the sweaty streaks of them.

“Ezra, what the fuck is happening?” You gasp and grunt through a fierce contraction. Your insides feel like they’re ripping open and your cervix tightens in a way you’ve never felt before.

“Hush now. You give it what it wants and we can have what we want.” He runs his tongue over the bubbly seam of your dilated cunt and sucks upon your clit hungrily for a beat, pulling a convulsion out of you. “Play your part, Birdie.”

You hum out, head lolling backwards as you can’t help but succumb to the intense sucking on your bud from his lips.

“We knew you’d taste so good.” He whines and the thick black of his arm scales your throat and wraps itself around you, choking you as you gasp.

You cry out as another contraction bears down on your uterus and you can feel a heavy rush followed by a saturated squelch.

Ezra draws back and watches keenly as you birth the pupate azure eggs planted inside you. You scream through it; the agony makes your cunt and womb feel like they’re on fire and he coaxes you through it, lapping up the amniotic fluid each time you disembogue it out.

Sparkling diamonds fall from your hole and Ezra leads you into a jubilant climax as he sucks on your clit and furrows his fingers inside to help pull them out.

The diamonds shatter as the tiny organisms inside birth and slither away into the walls; the glittery shells they leave behind are your trophy.

You watch, astonished and soaked in sweat, as they vacate the discarded diamonds to join the mass of tentacles where they’ll grow and eventually breed another like you who should be so gluttonous as to seek their treasure.

You give it what it wants and we can have what we want.

An exchange. A life cycle. A quid pro quo.

Play your part, Birdie.

“Mmmaaaah!”

Your attention is diverted by Ezra pulling another orgasm from you into his mouth. Then, he’s climbing up your body like an arachnid. His tentacle arm slithers behind you and he spreads you open with his thick cock.

He brutally fucks your spent, stretched hole; his seed soothes the pain, numbs it out almost like a leeches bite.

You cling onto him as he grunts and wheezes inside of your ear.

“You did so good for us, Birdie.” He praises and you can’t help but smile and welcome him in fully as he drills so deep inside of you that you can feel the tip slither out of your mouth between your teeth and into his as he kisses you; becoming an entwined ouroboros of unrelenting pleasure.

It feels like it will never stop as his hips crack and hammer into yours, and you pass out, weighted down by exhaustion of all extremes.

Puggart Bench, 4 cycles ago...

“I feel some convival attraction to you, despite my infructuous emancipation of it.” Ezra says as he sups at his glass of golden suds. "Your pluckiness appeals to my better nature, Birdie."

"That's the beer talking." You smirk.

He eyes you with a slightly arched brow and wet pink lips. The foam of his beer drags along his moustache and you watch him lick it clean with a quick flick of his tongue. "A siren, no doubt... I'll willingly drown in you."

"Stop with the sweet talk, prospector and get to the point." You mirth. Although his carnal wooing leaves sweat beading on your skin.

“You understand the objective?”

You nod. “Seems simple enough.”

You’d discussed it at length despite the slight buzz you’d gotten from the beer intake, and yet the plan came together without as much input from yourself. He knew the route, he knew the place. He knew where the diamonds were.

And he did all the damn talking.

All you had to do was assist him with the manual labour of it all, as he put it. Mine and prospect. Fly you both in and out too. An extra pair of hands where he only had half.

But it seemed a little too good to be true and you went to question him further when you felt someone knock into your chair from behind.

A wayward hand was felt trying to cup your breast and you grabbed it and squeezed it in a tight crush.

“I’d rethink that, friend. Unless you still want this hand to jerk you off tonight?” You spoke over your shoulder to the drunk assailant trying to grab at you.

He dribbled something shy of an apology onto your shoulder and you let him go, not before removing the ring on his middle finger that encased a shiny, expensive looking gem. Might fetch some credits for your inconvenience.

“Fiery one, aren’t you?” Ezra mused as he observed the whole thing.

“Just another night in this squalor. I can hold my own.” You replied, stuffing the ring in your pocket.

"Good. I require you strong. You play your part, Birdie. I'll see that you're rewarded handsomely for it."

"You speak as if mining diamonds is a dangerous art. It isn’t. I’m fairly astute in the work of dirty hands."

"These aren't just ordinary diamonds to cut your teeth on." He leaned in, placing the glass down on the table with a heavy thud.

You could smell the stink of the alcohol on his breath and that putrid musk of sweat wafting from him, mixed in with something else sweet and foreboding.

He smelled like death - sweet, alluring death.

His scruff was oily and scattered across his ageing, tan skin and throat, and his dark brown eyes bore into your own for a few moments, contemplating.

Ezra ran his hand around his grazed chin, rubbing at the stubble there now peppered with scabs and grey whiskers as he mulled over the thoughts about you accompanying him in his mind.

Black gunk was embedded in his nail beds. His hand was large for his frame, like a great big shovel for a palm; one that could crush a human skull with little effort, you thought. Once armed with two, you could only speculate as to what vile menace those hands could have caused.

“Where do you come from?” You ask him curiously as you sup. That stark blonde streak at his hairline catches the light and looks like it shimmers at you with tempting promises and false conviction.

Ezra looks up at you from his position at the table and smirks. “Where do you come from?” He challenges back.

He looks at you with a haggard expression that is unchanging. It begins to creep you out a little bit the more you see it, making prickles rise on the back of your neck. He suddenly has a way of making you feel nervous for no reason at all.

And men usually don’t make you feel nervous.

You draw back with a contemplative hiss. “The less we know about each other, the better.” You taunt. “No names, for instance.”

He's already haunting your blood as you feel it warm under your skin, and the slick bubble of sweat upon the back of your neck makes its presence known.

“Why the ambiguity?” He questions with a glass stare. "My name is Ezra." He casually tosses his name in front of you on the table, expecting you to return.

But you don't.

You're feeling prickles run all over your skin. You just want to wash him away with the grime and murk that coats his breath.

A spooky, amaranthine being regarding you from opposite the table and he smirks crookedly again through those swollen lips, pursed out, yet remains tight-lipped. You wonder what they taste like.

You wonder whether his foreskin his clipped, what his come tastes like.

“Getting cosy isn’t my style, Ezra.” You mutter, gulping back more foam and blinking the wanton haze away.

“Well regardless, what a delightful romp it would be to charter to Narilla with you, pet. I’m in if you’re in.” Ezra says after some time of eyeing you.

“I’m in,” you agree, sealing your fate. “Although, wouldn’t you rather have some strong muscle to offer us some leverage in case things go awry? There’s plenty of dick-for-brains to choose from.” You glance around the bar at the crass prospectors and miners in all their lunkhead glory.

“Nothing will go awry.” Ezra shakes his head. He clears his throat. “You’ll do just fine. You're Kevva sent for it.”

You feel his eyes drink you in as they wander over your body and you consider for a moment if you’ll end up back at his place tonight riding his face.

The idea isn’t as heinous as you’d like.

“A quick expedition then.” You confirm.

“That it is. We needn’t linger on the moon in the throes of a harsh winter.” His eyes dart away as though recalling something execrable as he struggles to swallow his beer. “In and out.” Ezra clarifies. "It'll be over quickly."

You nod once in agreement.

“There is a price for what you seek, prospectors. Especially you, girlie.” A foreign voice comes from beside you on the adjacent table.

A man with one eye glares under the shroud of his hood at you. A horrific scar as deep as a magenta trench replaces his other eye. Encrusted with old yellow skin like scales that were in various decays of flaking.

“Balderdash and frivolous superstition.” Ezra simply rebuts and knocks back the remnants of the amber beer down his throat.

“What do you mean, a price?” You query with a lazy smirk over your own numb lips to the creepy eavesdropper.

“He means nothing. Just trying to rile you, Birdie, is all. Come on now, we’ll drink some more. I insist. Celebrate our impending agreement.”

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" You muse.

"Why? Is it working? Am I attractive enough to you yet that you'll let me…" he looks up and down your body and licks his lips. "Indulge?"

"You're so presumptuous, Ezra" You smirk. "Maybe I'll be the one to indulge."

Ezra sways you up towards the bar with him and you think no more of it.

Later, you do indeed indulge, and ride hard on his hawkish face as he makes you come hard through juddery breaths as he fucks you with his serpent tongue relentlessly.

You can feel that heady pull on your clit as he sucks out your pleasure greedily in droves whilst you fist through his greasy hair in rapture as you grind your cunt against the furry graze of his chin.

As you suspected you would.

But now, that odd stranger is here, in the diamond pit with you; staring you down with his singular ragged eye watching as the glory of Ezra buries himself inside of you, and that man is whispering to you and now you know.

He was right, there was a price for Narilla’s diamonds.

You know everything now.

“You knew, didn’t you?” You question Ezra as his silhouette fuzzes into clarity.

The look on his face tells you all you need to know.

Of course he did. It all makes sense now.

“It’s why you favoured me over the other miners to accompany you; because I have a fucking womb!” You spit. "This was my part to play, wasn't it?"

You throw the diamonds you’d been holding at him, and he flinches as they pelt at his feet; his coveted prize.

“Birdie-” He holds up his palm, open in surrender.

“Don’t. Fucking. Call. Me. That!” You launch yourself at him and you both clatter to the stony ground.

You claw at him, aiming for his bastard face, but his free hand captures your fist. He clamps his legs around you to stop you gaining height over him and rolls, pinning you beneath him with ease.

For a man with one arm, he's still incredibly strong and slippery.

“No harm done.” Ezra sneers as you falter; his grip on your wrist flexing it backward a little until you feel a subtle crack and you hiss. “You fulfilled your part, yes. That is true. You got yourself remunerated. We’re free to depart now. It’s how this arrangement works.” He says, darkly.

“I should kill you, you piece of shit!" You seethe at him.

He looks offended. “Now, now. You weren’t saying that earlier when I was buried deep in the hilt of you.” He smirks sinisterly.

“You weren’t,” you shake him off and he rolls onto his back and snickers though rasps. “It wasn’t real.” You affirm, sitting up and flexing your wrist.

"Are you sure?" He questions you smugly.

"No. It was just-" You shake your head.

“Real enough for you to gestate and birth its offspring in droves.” Ezra reminds you.

“You want to lose your other fucking arm?” You warn through a snarl.

He sighs, the smirk dying. “You can’t simply procure the diamonds; you have to replenish your fill. They won’t let you leave if you just take from them. You have to have something to offer in return.” His eyes fall on your body, hungrily. “As I man, I can’t replenish. But you can.”

“You're not a man, you’re a fucking insect!” You rile.

“If I had delineated you the truth, you would never have accompanied me on this treacherous quest.” Ezra mutters, annoyed with clicked lips. “You were an unwitting comrade in my mournful web of deceit, I admit. I'm the arachnid, and you the fly..."

"Fuck you."

He snickers breathily. "I harbour no ill will towards you. You’re quite amiable despite your folly. I would have never let any permanent detriment come to you, Bir-.” He stops short of the moniker as he witnesses your stony glare.

“That’s fucking noble of you.” You growl.

“You’re still alive, yes? All supple appendages intact?”

You glare at him some more.

“Then we completed our charge fully unscathed and significantly richer for it.” Ezra simply says with a casual shrug of indifference.

You really want to punch him and feel his large nose shatter under your knuckles.

“What we possess now is incredibly rare. So few venture here because of the down payment required. You'll be a queen among mere men. You should think yourself fortunate.” He puts, examining one of the diamond shards carefully.

“Tell that to my insides!" You snap. You can still feel the ache; the rawness from the unexpected birth.

"It's what your glorious body was made for. To bear the fruit of life, is it not?"

"That," you point towards the swarming cluster "is not fucking fruit, Ezra!"

Ezra sighs and reaches for you gingerly. "I am burdened with my part in this. I am a host to belligerent shame. Honesty is a skill I do not possess in its entirety. But you and I, we make a damn hoot of a team."

"The prospector and her pimp!" You scoff.

"I'll make it right, if you’ll permit me?"

His deep, brown eyes bore into you and you feel something wobble inside you.

“I meant it when I said I liked you, pet. That clandestine night on The Pug with you? Kevva, it replays in my mind and won't let me have no peace. Your cunt stink is still all up in my sheets." He licks his lips, sucking on the bottom and recalling your taste for a beat with a satisfied murmur - a groan that your skin ignites to in response.

"Who would desire me like this now aside from the whores on Luxillion who take my credits and don't remember my name? They just remember this..." Ezra glances down at his missing appendage.

"I ponder if it was pity on your part, and I would not linger in offense if it was, but regardless, it was something. To me. And I do not take the pleasure you offered me so freely, and with an inkling of that desire for yours truly returned, lightly and with regret." He finishes.

You sigh and shake your head, unable to ignore fully the fizzing inside your veins as he says it, how earnest he suddenly appears.

Despite yourself, that night with him was indeed... something.

There was something so deliciously unkempt about him. Frivolous around the seedy murk. Something that your better nature repelled against, and yet caved to all the same.

“How the fuck do we get out of here?” You groan, looking up at the swarm of tentacles engulfing the only means of escape.

You're not sure if you can take another mind fucking, or a physical one. But your pussy clenches and it zaps on your clit regardless.

“The way we came in, I have already iterated that escape route to you, despite your reluctance to partake. It seems appeased, I think. Satiated. Might pass us up without further incident.”

"Well, I guess we have no choice." You utter.

Ezra gathers the diamonds and shoves them into his wet pockets until they bulge. He looks at you forlornly. “Thank you,” he notes.

You soften despite yourself. “Hold my hand this time. I don’t want to be separated from you and left behind now you’ve gotten what you wanted. I would expect no less from you.”

You can feel it on your skin. The dread. The desire the pit had for you. The fact that, despite his slimy betrayal, you still feel it burn in your core when he smiles crookedly at you.

"I would gladly leave these treasures here, if it meant not taking you with me." He says through molten brown eyes.

"You're so full of shit." You sigh, smirking.

Ezra reaches out with a timid grin of his own and you step forward, interlocking your fingers tightly in his.

“That's as may be, but I won’t let go.” He promises and you believe him as his thumb strokes over the ridge of your knuckles.

You feel his sincerity crush the bones in your hand.

“Once we get out of here, I think I never want to see your face again.” You warn him, but you can feel that your resolve already has cracks in it as you offer him a small, twinkly smile.

“That might be difficult…” Ezra holds up your interlocked hands and they are no longer hands in a muscled knot.

Instead, they are a singular arm that starts from your shoulder and ends at the ball joint on his. The skin is perfectly smooth and there is no separation on where you begin and Ezra ends.

“What the fuck?” You gasp.

“Embrace it, Birdie. It’s the only way we’re getting out.” Ezra smirks. "One last hurrah." He laughs and his breath suddenly smells like the dead Trogs on Ajaxia, as you inhale it into your stomach where it soils and grows roots.

You feel your toes leave the ground as the tentacles lift you upwards. Your joint appendage with Ezra stretches as you feel them try to separate you both.

Somewhere under the muscles and sinew, you grip onto him and he grips you back just as hard.

The nebula rises above you both and you cover your eyes with your free arm as it swells in intensity and size.

Your hand is pulled out of his from under the skin, like taking off a glove and Ezra desperately pulls you into his lap. You wrap your legs around his waist tightly locking you in and he grunts at the welcome intrusion from the crest of your pelvis crushed against his own.

"Not letting you go," he assures. Or warns. They sound one in the same.

His free fingers now push into your skull, sinking into the soft jellied mass of your brain and your own hands grip onto his shoulders, sinking into the bone beneath his flesh.

They slide in so easily, like fluid and you gasp out as he fills your cunt; that pulsing cock free from his undergarments and pumping his spend liberally into you and doesn’t stop. It floods your pussy, leaking out around his fat shaft and dripping down your thighs in thick globules.

“You taste so good, Birdie.” Ezra rasps and his voice is sulfuric. “We could devour you for eternity.”

He pulls back and his mouth is full of your milky flesh; your blood pooling from the corner of his lips and you hear his molars crunch through your bone fragments.

“Stay,” he wheezes. “Stay with us here and let us live inside you.” He pleads as he takes another bite, consuming you whole; his cock thrusting deeper into you and you groan and wail as he drowns you.

You can feel it filling you, that thick seminal fluid pouring from your ears, your nostrils and your eyes.

You're slipping, fading.

You want to stay but you know you should be somewhere else. Somewhere you’re not sure is real and you only dreamed of it.

But the nebula… it’s so fucking beautiful.

To never see it again wrenches your heart. You pluck it from your chest; a mass of sloppy ventricles and offer it out to the amethyst abyss.

You watch as it disintegrates into ash in your palm. You can still feel Ezra filling you, drowning you and you know this is where you belong.

You belong with them; this mass of tentacles that feeds you everything you could only ever imagine and crave. At one with the universe and home inside of the purple nebula that speaks the same language as you and shares a brainstem and-

“Birdie!”

You’re wrenched and you surface; spluttering as your grapple for the ledge with slippery fingers.

Ezra pulls you over, groaning with the strain as you topple onto him and gasp out. The diamonds spill from his pockets around you both and he pants into your face, his own reddening from the exertion.

“I got you,” he says, his face shiny and wet. "Easy now."

Your shaky fingers around the familiarity of his brackish features as you realise you're back on solid ground and out of the pit.

You can feel his chest heave against yours as you're crushed to him; his arm tight against your back.

“You didn’t leave me in there.” You marvel at him with those pink cheeks around his scruff.

“Do you think me completely unscrupulous, woman?” He frowns.

You lean in and kiss him, planting a deep relieved smooch onto his chapped lips and he’s taken by surprise.

You suck on his tongue and your kiss erupts into something unfinished. He groans back into your mouth as you can still feel how hard he is, how he pulses under you with need and it spreads into you.

“So, I assume by this mere token of affection, you no longer wish to gut me?” He gasps around your mouth.

“No, I still very much wish to,” you smile. “But right now, I just want you inside of me, Ezra. Fuck me.”

His grip on you strengthens. “I can certainly oblige to that,” he gruffs. "Seeing as we almost perished today."

"Almost," you growl.

He pushes his head up to kiss you again. He wastes no time and reaches down as you both fumble around your sticky, cloying undergarments.

He shimmies his long johns down his thighs as best as he can, pulling out his turgid cock that's pulsing with need and slippery with pre-cum.

You pull your shorts to the side as you sit down on him, sinking all the way down to his swollen balls.

“Fuck, Birdie... Better than the visions,” he whines, the cords in his neck straining and pupils blown wide. “So tight..." He gasps as you start rocking on him. "Oh, forgive me, pet. I won't last.”

"I don't care." You grunt wanting him and taking him, as you grind your hips back and forth sloppily.

He feels fucking divine; packing you out and stretching you through this frantic, clumsy fuck you’ve instigated, and you deduce you’re probably still out of your mind on whatever it was that had you feverish and delusional in the pit.

But it's of no matter; you’re too riled up to give a damn about anything else other than your release. And you want nothing more than to soak him.

It’s fast approaching as you grind down harder on him. You can feel him in the places where you’re still raw and tight, but you push through it; the pleasure is your driving force and it bubbles under your abdomen muscles and makes your toes spark.

"In Kevva's name, I swear you're magnificent," he rambles, reaching up with his free hand to grope and palm your breast over your camisole. He watches as you slide up and down on his cock, bewildered and in awe as your slick oils up the dark hairs around the base of him.

"Oh shit," he cants.

You suck on his deceitful tongue as you ride him and milk his cock for all it’s worth. Your peak is so close, quick and bursting like colourful strobes under your eyelids as your clit rubs deliciously against his fuzzy groin curls.

Your walls tighten and flutter around his girthy muscle buried to the hilt in you.

“Mmm fuck, Ezra, I’m going to-” You pant.

“Me too, come for me. All over my cock.” He hisses. “Now! Gah, sweet mother of Kevva,” he groans. “Ohshitohshitohshit… oh-oh shit!"

You tense and shake over him like an earthquake; eyes rolling back into your head and fingers digging into his chest meat.

Your thighs smack against the soft paunch of his stomach as you slow your pace and ride it out until the stars dissipate and that purple nebula fades into the black for good.

A small part of you is sad to see it go.

You feel Ezra pulse and fill you with his own warm heat and it spills out of you as you collapse onto his sternum, your cheek sticking to his wet clothed nipple, satiated and exhausted.

You glance at your discarded flight suits, after what feels like an eternity later of just laying stuck to him and listening to his heartbeat ebb, before you’d entered the creature's pit and realise this was all so very warped and that you actually made it out unscathed, like he had said.

Like he'd promised.

You’re still unsure if it all really happened or if your mind is playing tricks on you. All you can remember is the violet beauty and the feeling of being filled so deeply.

You feel his thick fingers run through the oil of your hair gently rousing your focus. "As much as I'd enjoy staying here with you on this idle precipice, it appears we should make haste to depart before anything else untoward occurs."

You nod and glance up at him, placing a gentle kiss on the scarred skin of his stump poking out under his t-shirt, which makes his eyes glisten at you.

You shuffle off of him and reach for your suit, careful not to eye him and a small part of you wanting to forget it all.

But you can’t forget a man like Ezra so easily - he’s furrowed in too deep already; got those grubby, thick fingers embedded deep into your skin and poisoning you with the dirt that constantly lives under his nails.

He bore witness to your ruining down in the pit, your undoing.

He was there with you as your skin was flayed down to the bone. The complete annihilation of your soul as it tarnished before him. He sought to devour the nerves under your flesh, the depraved delights that the pit drew out of you and into his waiting and willing mouth.

He didn't choke on you like you wanted.

Ezra regards you with a shine in his dark, beady eyes and offers you a small, creeping smile which you can’t help but return as you both dress and reattach your helmets.

The diamonds glitter all around your feet and the euphoria of knowing they’re yours is a little overwhelming.

"I would kill for a shower right now." You say as you follow him back the way you came through the internalised cave systems. Your body stills feels sticky and wet under your flight suit.

You hear him guffaw inside your ear. "Is there not a sanitation pod housed on your lander?"

"No," you frown. "Was too expensive to rent one with luxurious amenities."

"A shame." He concurs. "Although, we can bathe in the waters with the nymphs on Luxillion now if we wish."

"Luxillion?" You snort. "Burning a hole in your pocket already?"

"A man can but dream." Ezra husks inside your ear. "What of your ambition, Birdie?"

You shrug. "Haven't really thought about it."

"You can afford to mull it over some." He crackles.

"Yes I can," you smile, realising that both Ezra and you can simply afford anything you want right now. No matter how ludicrous a thing it is that you desire.

Back in the confines of the lander, you take the controls as Ezra tucks your share of the diamonds into your knapsack.

“If you’ve short changed me, I’ll hunt you down, prospector.” You warn him though a short side glare.

“Perhaps I should recount if you make tempting promises such as those, Birdie.” Ezra quips and smiles at you like a dim light bulb before it runs out of juice.

The thrusters roar into life and the lander pod launches into a frosty orbit. The static still blocks everything out as you fly blind up into the ether. The radio comms crackling and tinny in their off-beat drones.

“Don’t call me that,” you simply say; a small smirk of your own breeding across your lips that you lick away.

“Then what do I call you? I wish to let it roll off my tongue when I fuck you some more back on The Pug.” He simply croons.

You scoff. “You’re so presumptuous, Ezra.” You shake your head with a breathy snuffle of a laugh. “Perhaps, I’ll be the one to fuck you."

And the thought makes your clit throb excitedly, despite it's over-stimulated ache.

"I'll ensure you're held to that bold proposition, pet." Ezra simply clicks his tongue around his teeth, the taste of you still in his gum meat somewhere.

"I would expect no less from you." You quip.

You feel his singular hand creep onto your thigh and give it a good gentle squeeze. Instead of being disgusted, you smile and enjoy the pleasure it evokes through your bloodstream as he warms you.

You then surprise him by caving and finally revealing your name, casually letting it flow from your lips as you release the landing gear.

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you." He grins slickly at you in some deft accomplishment. "Wasn't such a hard endeavor now, was it?"

Ezra sits back in the nav seat smirking as you launch fully into The Fringe, leaving the delectable nightmares of Narilla behind you both.

MASTERLIST | EZRA MASTERLIST

I really hope you enjoyed reading this Ezra story of mine. I had a lot of fun writing this and really wanted to challenge myself with this genre. Please let me know your thoughts. I'll be writing more Ezra for sure. 🖤

#ezra prospect #prospect ezra #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #ezra prospect x f!reader #ezra prospect x you #ezra x female reader #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect smut #ezra x you #ezra x reader #prospect film #prospect 2018 #prospect movie #prospect #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedrostories #pedro pascal stories #jett's pedro boys #jett's writing

[sotvtaughtmehowtofeel]

headcanon: Ezra lied about his filter being spent.

what we know:

1. Ezra was tethered to Number 2 so his filter was spent initially

2. Both Damon and Number 2 had working filters when they died

3. Damon shot Number 2 in the chest at around collarbone level. His filter was lower and unlikely to be damaged.

4. Damon seemed to be shot also rather high, but the railgun might have a larger spread than Ezra’s pistol, so we’ll say maybe his filter was damaged.

5. Cee bolted the first time she was face-to-face with Ezra.

6. Ezra was unlikely to leave a working filter behind when his was damaged.

7. Ezra made it back to the pod with no hookup.

8. Ezra’s saturation indicator is not red when he holds up his filter in the pod.

I propose that Ezra took Number 2’s filter and had a working filter when he got to the drop pod. He lied to Cee about needing a hookup because he knew she was a flight risk.

what we know (continued):

9. The Sater may or may not have had a filter to trade. If they did, Ezra likely took it (it doesn't look like there's one in the trade pile, but I can't really tell).

10. Ezra made it to the amputation tent with no hookup.

11. Cee’s filter was saturated by the time she got to the amputation tent. Unclear if filters can be cleaned or need to be replaced.

12. Ezra and Cee uncouple again for the fight with Inumon. Ezra is again allegedly without a filter.

I propose that he gave the good filter to Cee in the amputation tent, but continued to lie about his filter to keep her close.

#help im emo about them again #ezra lying makes total sense to me #this is canon to me now #it will appear in my fics #youve been warned #been thinking about this for a few days now #prospect #prospect film #prospect headcanon

[deervsheadlights]

prospect (2018) + assorted text posts

#prospect 2018 #prospect movie #prospect film #cee and ezra #cee prospect #ezra prospect #text posts #yes the sizing is off keep your mouth shut about it #i have four more of these #feeling silly #incorrect quotes #deer's originals

[marisferasiop]

Interloper

a Transplant short

Ao3 link

Summary: when a new citizen of Jackson gets a little too aggressive when you turn him down (and a little too rough with Ezra, who comes to intervene) Joel ensures that he thoroughly understands the consequences.

Word count: about 4k

Warnings: canon- typical violence, jealous/overprotective Joel, boys kissing, slight internalized homophobia (or fear of it, at least), blow jobs, breathplay if you squint

Rating: explicit! Minors DNI

Note: set 1 year after Transplant. If you haven't, I suggest that you read it first so you're not lost! Also I forgot who made these dividers but I did rb them as asked when I saved a few 😭

Tags: taking a step outside my comfort zone and tagging those I thought would like based on previous interactions/feedback (if I tagged you mistakenly OR didn't tag you I'm sorry!) @for-a-longlongtime @wannab-urs @morallyinept @ezrasbirdie @luxurychristmaspudding @timelordfreya @chronically-ghosted I never tag ppl I'm freaking out a little at the idea of being p e r c i e v e d, sorry.

He had woken up in such a good mood, too.

Joel had stirred in the witching hour that morning to the feel of your cool, little hand curving over his ribs as you slid back into bed behind him.

“Hmm?” He’d grunted, tipping his head up toward the ceiling to look back. You had sighed back at him as you tucked your knees behind his, smothering your face between his shoulder blades.

“Had to pee.”

Under his chin, Ezra had stretched and turned into him, soft breath tickling his throat, and Joel had drifted back off.

When he’d been awoken flat on his back sometime later, the sun up and searing through your windows, it was to find you and Ezra each straddling one of his knees, sucking his dick in tandem.

He’d nearly come at the sight.

“Oh, Jesus fuck,” he’d quietly groaned, spreading his knees a little, reaching down to palm your heads. You had glanced up at him and grinned around your mouthful of him. When you popped off, you ran your hand up and over his spit-slicked length, making his hips twitch up into your grip. Under your wrist, Ezra had tucked his face and was coaxing Joel's balls down, laving at the wrinkled skin of his sac, sucking a ball into his hot mouth as it descended. "Agh!"

“Ooooh, Joel’s awake, baby,” you’d crooned at Ezra, giving another kitten lick to Joel’s weeping head. His thighs jumped under your palms.

Ezra had his cheek smushed into Joel's thigh and was staring at your hand greedily, his mouth wet and still stretched around a testicle, waiting. He pulled away, letting Joel's balls slide out of his lips and drop with a wet slap. Joel hissed and flinched. Ezra picked his head up and swiped his tongue over your knuckles, following them up to Joel’s cockhead and between your salty lips, licking his taste off your tongue.

“We’re wondering who sucks your dick better, Knuckles,” Ezra said up to Joel serenely, cupping his balls. Joel groaned, absolutely stricken dumb. He had never been woken up with head before, and you two were gonna absolutely ruin him.

Part of him wanted that. A big part. One that grew daily, now, the longer he was with you both.

You stroked his cock tightly in your little fist and leaned it over to fit the tip in Ezra's waiting mouth. Ezra sucked half of him down greedily, pressing himself hard to take the rest.

Instantly, Joel's hand had tightened in his hair. [Ezra likes Joel being rougher with him than he is with you. He recognizes that the man has to let all that aggression out somewhere, even if it’s really repackaged desperation]. He hummed around the fat cock in his throat as those fingers twisted tighter in his hair and Joel rocked his hips at the vibration, buried himself deeper. The sting of his scalp and the squeeze of his tonsils, the burning of his lungs, feels like success to Ezra, who has spent the last year diligently working his way under the curmudgeon’s skin.

Just as Joel was about to come, his balls up tight and his cock pulsing on Ezra's tongue, the younger man had pulled off and kissed his weeping tip, passing him back to you.

Joel wanted to jump up and shake the man, throw him under himself and make him swallow every thrust until he choked on his cum, but your gentle touch on the inside of his thigh gave him pause. The marked difference of your soft, sweet sucks to Ezra's deeper, stronger pulls on him was giving him whiplash. He settled immediately under you, caught between Ezra's teeth on his thigh and your urgent nursing on his tender head.

You’d both teased Joel for ages like that, trading him back and forth with a firm squeeze to his base every time he got too close. Eventually, he erupted on your faces, painting your lolling tongue and the scarred bridge of Ezra's nose and scrappy mustache with ropes of his cum.

After, he’d let you crawl up and lay on him for deep, indulgent kisses. He traced his fingertips down your spine, feeling you bloom under his touch. He gripped your cheeks and held you open while Ezra fucked you hard from behind. He eventually relinquished your hip into Ezra's hand only to move to assist better. He got onto his creaking knees and wound one unforgiving fist into your hair and used the other to allow his calloused fingers to strum your clit til you shook apart for them.

When Ezra pulled out of you to finish himself off, Joel had moved behind him. He pinned the man back to his broader chest with one hand wrapped snugly around his throat and the other around his cock.

"Lay back for us, honey," Joel told you softly, and you were flushed and eager to comply, rolling bonelessly to your back. You cupped your breasts together and played with them for their gaze.

Joel stripped off Ezra rough and fast, still pinned into position, til he shot his load all over your heaving tits where you lay beneath their spread thighs, watching them with lust- blown pupils.

Joel had gone outside to work on your rotting porch with a smile and some pep in his step some time later, grateful and happy.

Now, play time was over and he was far from amused. He’d been having such a nice, domestic off day and you and Ellie were dragging him out to socialize.

The inhumanity.

He knew grumbling would get him nowhere, so he simply remained surly and quiet about it. Until a thought struck, anyway.

“I don't see why’n the fuck you gotta run the bar. Or do rounds, like ever? Y’all are still in school. They even let you drink?” Joel grouses to Ellie, stomping through the crisp snow beside you from the house to the Tipsy Bison.

“If I'm old enough to take patrols, I'm old enough to run the bar for a couple hours,” Ellie says sardonically.

“And drink,” You say quietly, rolling your eyes at Joel’s continued grumping. She huffs a laugh.

“Everyone does rounds, now and then, Joel. Even me. So, even Ellie. And it’s only a couple hours. You can sit with us and Cee for that long and pretend not to be such a Grinch,” you elbow him.

He harrumphs, squeezing your hand where it’s stuffed inside his coat pocket with his own, and takes Ellie's teasing in stride. She’s mimicking his grumpy stomping behind them, her arm linked with Cee's.

“Knock it off,” he says with no heat. She rolls her eyes so hard she nearly falls into a snowbank, making Cee and Ezra giggle.

“Come on, old man. Get a drink, chill out. Watch your hot girlfriend while she dances with your pretty boyfriend. I have faith in your wallflower abilities,” she claps a hand to her chest dramatically, eyes closed, and takes a loosely-packed snowball to the face for her acting skills.

Still spitting out bits of grass and pine needles, Ellie holds the door and sticks her tongue out at a smug Joel as he passes by. Cee is the last to enter and picks a blade of grass out of Ellie's hair before dropping a kiss on her icy nose. “Let’s see if you can get me wasted,” Cee leans in and whispers, straightening and biting her lips when Ezra glances over his shoulder at her with a lofted brow.

“You coulda done that at home with some 'shine and had a far better time alone, rather than here in this sausage- fest tryna get drunk on watered-down shots,” he quietly conspires, and they dissolve into appalled giggles. “There's a three- drink- max anyway.”

Inside, Joel accepts a tumbler of whiskey from Ellie and follows you and Ezra to a tall, round table with four stools. The bar is already humming, mostly patrolmen who are fresh off the wall shift stopping in to de-fuse and socialize before going home. He casts a glance around the room, recognizing most faces now after a few years in Jackson, and takes the stool beside Ezra, both facing the bar.

You’ve shucked your heavy coat and are sitting pretty across from him in a tight top and what you had called a skater skirt with dark leggings and your trusty boots to keep your legs warm in the dead of winter. (If you had noticed the way Joel had sandwiched you between him and Ezra on the walk here like a guard dog, you hadn't commented on it).

Right now he wants to put your jacket back on your pretty little shoulders. Or his own flannel. As soon as you’d hung it on the back of your chair, you had eyes on you.

Ezra drops his hand on Joel’s lap under the table and strikes up conversation with you girls, asking about Cee’s final weeks of school and the hideously strict teacher, Marnie, who has both of them and seems to have it out for her. Cee is still training at the clinic, and is now training with you in surgery. Ellie is still at the stables. She’s been moved on to farrier training now that the last foaling is done, and is taking well to it, she explains in Ellie’s absence.

You and Ezra and Cee dissolve into idle talk about the clinic, allowing Joel to zone out a bit under the pressure of the hand curved over his leg, those lissome fingertips scratching idly at the inner thigh seam of his jeans, just above his knee- nothing impertinent- and keep his eyes on the milling crowd. You hook your foot behind his calf and when he snaps his gaze to you, he forces his shoulders to drop an inch at your goading smile.

You ask him to dance and he gives you a flat look. At your pout, he turns his look on Ezra, who simply squeezes his knee and gets up. “Come on, soleil. Let’s let Knuckles guard the table. I’ll lure you back into bed with my two left feet.”

Joel is helpless not to smile in the wake of your delighted laughter. He watches Ezra lead you and Cee to the parquet. His unit, everyone he cares about most is right here, in this room, it’s okay. He just doesn't like the press of bodies after half a lifetime in the overflow of the QZs, followed by the absence of trustworthy folks on the road.

He fingers his glass idly and enjoys watching you, how Ezra doesn't let you stray too far from his reach and how you grin wide and enjoy yourself, moving to the music and giggling with Cee. He catches Ellie stealing glances of her, between serving drinks, and hides his smile behind his glass.

The door blows open with a blast of frozen air and Tommy steps in with a handful of men crisped at the edges with snow, fresh off a day- long scouting run. He claps Joel on the shoulder with an easy, tired grin before leading the group to the bar for their drinks. Joel narrows his eyes at the men; he doesn't recognize half of them. Odd, he thinks, since he’s one of the patrol heads.

Tommy thanks Ellie with a playful wink and brings his beer back, dragging a stool over to squeeze in among the others.

“What did you do on your off day, brother?” He asks, drawing Joel away from his thoughts.

Joel shrugs and glances at his partners on the dancefloor. “Slept in. Cleaned the house. Helped Sunny replace those rotten boards on her porch. Got dragged out here,” he complains lightly, knocking back the last of his drink.

Tommy scoffs and draws a panting Ezra, who has abandoned the girls for a break, into conversation next. His eyes stick to the way Ezra’s hand steals back over Joel’s thigh under the table as he slides into his stool, but he says nothing and doesn't react, though Joel notices the glance and stiffens slightly at first. Tommy just takes a swig of his beer and keeps talking.

While the chatterbox catches his breath and spins a yarn about crossing paths with a mountain lion on their last foraging trip before the snow hit, and his anticipation of the next one when the snow melts, Joel scoops up both their empties and goes to the bar.

It’s crowded, and Ellie and the other lady, Rachel, are busy pouring for the scout team that just came in. You and Cee squeeze in beside him. He catches your eye quickly, of course he does, and you lean over with a salacious grin, stealing the bottle from Ellie's grasp as she’s about to pour in his cup. “What can I get you, handsome?”

“Two more. Pretty thing like you shouldn't walk home alone. When’re you off?” He flirts back with a warmed chest, looking down at your easy smile. He leans an elbow on the wood surface as you snort and watch Ellie pretend to gag and grab the bottle back.

“You guys are gross. Go away,” she mimes a dramatic hurl and you can’t stifle a giggle.

“In an hour or so, big guy. You can walk me home. But don’t let my boyfriend find out,” you nod at Ezra, who is watching your exchange with a bemused smile. Joel smirks and scoops up the glasses.

“I think I can handle him, sweetheart,” he winks at you and goes back to the table, leaving you to wait on your drink with Cee.

He’s drawn into Tommy’s story of the scouting trip today, listening to how he was training some new folks and how they’d taken the west pass through the mountain to check the dam for any issues after a power outage the day before. They’d found a lone infected wandering about, and managed to bring home three deer for the mess hall. Joel is in the midst of fantasizing about a nice venison steak when he hears your annoyed voice cut through the susurrus of the bar.

“Yeah, I don't think so, bud.”

Joel snaps his eyes to you, feeling Ezra’s hand curl back around his knee as if to keep him pinned to the stool.

You are watching one of the scout troupe closely, one who has decided to lean over you at the bar so he can leer at you better.

“Aw, come on, little lady. You’re all dressed for attention, ain’t you?” the guy drawls, making the acne-riddled guy next to him snort into his beer. “I’ll give you some.”

Joel’s hand curls around his glass hard enough to shatter it.

Idiot #1’s spotty friend elbows him and leans in. “You gotta watch out man. That guide today said the town doctor is taken. That's you right, miss?”

“That’s me, but a no should be good enough reason to lay off.” You roll your eyes and shift to turn away and continue having fun with Cee, but the first guy won’t let up. He just gets louder.

Joel's fist tightens on the table. He knows you can handle this. You can. It's the principle of it. You shouldn't have to.

“Ooooh, yeah? You’re the one with that old, mean fella, right? And the one- armed guy? At the garden center,” he laughs with a snide grin. “They share you or somethin’?”

“Hey, she’s not interested, dude. Either quiet down or leave,” Ellie intones, her voice hard. “Either way, you're cut off.”

Ezra presses down on Joel’s leg when he feels the muscle tense. He slides his palm up over Joel’s nape, leans in, and murmurs: “If you go over there and do what you’re wantin’ to do, Sunny or Cee is gonna end up havin’ to patch them up at the clinic. Let me talk to ‘em.”

Joel clenches his jaw but stays in his seat as Ezra gets up. The younger man grasps his shoulder and slides close behind him, between the wall and the stool. “If they decide to ignore my words and get physical, you’re obviously welcome to come have a tussle. But let’s take it outside if so, yeah?”

“He touches any of you–”

“Joel.” Tommy calls his attention. “You’ll take it outside.”

The muscle rolls in Joel’s jaw but he nods.

Ezra squeezes his shoulder again and drifts over to the bar, keeping his eyes on you. Unfortunately, he arrives a moment too late. In the second it takes Ezra to pause and talk to Joel, the guy has already stepped too close again and crowded you against the bar, his hand aiming for the hem of your short little skirt. He manages to get his other hand around your wrist before you yank it back.

"Hey!" You and Cee both exclaim. Cee quickly pulls you out of his reach.

“Hey! Back off,” Ellie grits. She's already slipping out from behind the bar to step between you and him before Joel can even react. He starts to stand and Tommy grabs his arm.

“Let Ezra try,” he says, and Joel growls under his breath.

You slip out of the man’s reach and your jaw tightens. “I said no, dude. Fuck off. Last warning.”

“Oh, and what are you gonna do about it? You and two girls? Town doc doesn't exactly scream fighter, princess. I bet your guard dogs do it for you. Speaking of, I don’t see ‘em? Or are you just the town slut, and two of your regulars are what you’re calling boyfriends?”

Ellie looks mutinous, but before she can cock her arm back to deck him, Ezra grips the guy’s collar and hauls him sharply backward several feet before he realizes what’s happening, giving you room to make an escape. The man crashes to the floor, caught off guard.

“Excuse me, partner. I suggest you turn your attention to me and have a civil discussion, and level your temperament, before you find yourself with a broken jaw, flying outside to bleed in the snow.”

The acne-riddled guy locks eyes on him first, noting Ezra's missing arm. Recognition sparks in his face. “Oh shit. Uh, Ray?”

“Ray?” Ezra sneers. He glances at you, clocking your burning cheeks. It makes his gut roil. You’re more furious (and now embarrassed) than anything, now standing between Joel’s knees. Ezra watches him assess you, his hands and words gentle (probably for the last time tonight) as they cup your chin. He swipes his thumbs over your burning cheeks and folds you into his chest. Ezra can tell that Joel very much would rather be pounding this guy’s face in than simply holding you, but he's waiting for his cue.

Ray has straightened up from where Ezra had dragged him to the floor, spitting curses, and turned to face Ezra. His friend has disappeared backward into the crowd to avoid the pending fight. Hell, half the bar has quieted down to watch.

“Imagine having a nemesis called Ray, soleil.” He winks at you and you grit your teeth against a weak smile at the joke. “Now, mister, I can tell you’re new here in Jackson. I'm inclined to ask you again to apologize for your boorish behavior toward our doctor, Sunny, and change your attitude. She gave you a final warning, and I will not ask again.”

“Oh, are you one of her mutts, then? Girl can spread ‘em for the elderly and disabled but not anyone else?”

“You need to make your way outside, Ray, before it's ensured that you end up with one functional arm, too,” Ezra says.

“I ain't scared of you, or her old man. And I sure as shit ain't scared of some slut who thinks she's too good for anyone.”

The glint in Ezra’s gaze snuffs out as his gaze darkens. “I suggest you find your manners immediately, Ray. You’ll find your way out of this town just as quickly as you entered it, if you don’t learn to manage that temper and hold that tongue. Perhaps even wrapped in a sheet, six feet under.”

“What are you gonna do, huh? Talk me to death, bitch?” Ray comes around and sizes him up, looming an inch or so above Ezra as he stands far too close.

To his credit, and much to do with his rough life before Jackson, Ezra doesn't so much as blink. You feel Joel's fingers tighten around your hips in anticipation. Ezra can feel the violent rage vibrating in the air a few feet behind him from Joel and smirks a little.

He’s got nothing to be scared of, unlike this idiot. He narrows his eyes.

“You are not understandin’ me, Ray. You will apologize to my girl. And then I think you ought to go home and get a good night’s sleep. You found some audacity and anger on the scouting ride today, and harassing the only doctor in town in front of her family and half your own crew ain't the way to go. She could be all that stands between your life and death, and much sooner than you anticipate. You’re showin’ your ass right now, when it’s long past time to turn tail. And besides, I'm not the dog you gotta watch out for.”

“I don't give a shit who she is. I am not apologizing to some snooty whore or her broken, pathetic little cuck boy toy.” He shoves Ezra hard in the chest.

There is an uncanny, absolute silence that happens before a bomb goes off. In the vacuum of noise, for that split second, all anyone can hear through the whole bar is the scrape of a stool across the floorboards.

All Joel can hear is your gasp and his own ringing ears.

Ezra grabs Ray’s collar as he falls, twisting so that he plants a knee on the asshole’s gut when they land. Before Ray can scramble to his knees and ready for another blow, Joel’s already on him.

“Outside!” Tommy commands.

Folks on the street see the pub’s swinging doors fly open and slap the walls as Ray sails clean out of it. He lands a good few yards into the walkway, crashing hard over a wrought- iron table and chairs before collapsing to the snowy ground in a heap. Before he can even scramble to his knees, Joel is on him, flipping him over, and a fist is crashing down on his face.

Joel feels the crunch of cartilage under his knuckles and grips Ray’s collar in his other fist. He shakes the man, straddling him with one knee in the snow and his other boot planted firmly on the other side.

“You touch anyone who's mine ever again; you so much as look at any of ‘em outside of the clinic, and your goddamned head is the only thing comin’ back from patrol next time. I'll stick you on a pike on the Wall. You understand me?” Joel seethes and shakes Ray again, rattling his brain, watching the blood pour out from his split nose and eyebrow, and finally hears the wet gurgle of his frantic yes.

"You say it. Ellie, Sunny, Ezra, Cee. Off limits."

"Off- fuck! They're off limits!"

Ray claws at the meaty hand still fisted in his shirt collar as Joel straightens his spine and turns back to you and Ezra, now watching from the doorway of the bar.

“Which hand he touch you with?” Joel asks you both, his voice raw as gravel and eyes dark with rage.

You shake your head, a tiny frown between your brows betraying your confusion at the question. Ezra flicks his eyes down at the man and sees his ineffectual grappling with Joel’s grip. Ray had used both hands, both when trying to grab you and when shoving him, but Ezra knows Joel enough by now to know what's coming next.

He also knows intimately what it’s like in this world with a limb missing.

“His right,” he says, feeling only a little vindictive. His frustration has not quite tipped over into murderous rage, unlike Joel, who is reigning his in.

Joel huffs an angry, foggy breath and turns back.

“Ray,” he spits with venom. “You’re gonna take your lousy ass home, and splint this your damn self. Same as you would have done before you came here.”

“Wha–AAAAAAH!” Ray screams as Joel takes his hand between his own and swiftly breaks his wrist.

Joel lets Ray flop back into the snow, cradling his hand, and leans in close. “You ain't gonna act like a rabid animal inside these walls. Because I will not hesitate to put you down like one. You hear me?”

“Fuck– yes! Get off me!” Ray yells, nearly pissing himself with the need to get away, his bootheels scraping the snow down to muddy slush beneath them.

Ray flops over onto his belly, army crawls forward out from under Joel with his broken wrist pinned to his chest, and scrambles up and off into the night.

Disgusted, Joel gets up and slaps the snow off his knee. He scoops up a handful of the fresh stuff off a nearby table and presses it to his bruised knuckles.

“How long you got left on your shift?” Joel deadpans at Ellie, a dismissive move to the scene that just took place. People are already drifting back inside, with the action over.

“Uhhh, it’s like an hour til close,” she answers. He nods and waves them back inside with an annoyed look that says let’s get this over with. Cee smothers a smile and turns back into the bar, herding the handful of onlookers who are still lingering away from the doorway. You and Ezra stay on the porch while the girls go inside.

Joel comes up and stands on the step in front of you, flexing his fingers before he hangs them down by his side, curling and twitching anxiously. He flicks his eyes all over you and the muscle in his jaw rolls once.

“You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you confirm, shrugging. “Some grabby asshole isn't enough to scare me. Not here. Ezra?” you hold out your palm and wiggle your fingers expectantly. Joel drops his hand in yours with a fond eye roll, feigning annoyance at your inspecting.

You both look at him and he nods. “I’m okay, soleil. Are you, Knuckles?”

Joel blinks at him and glances at you. You arch a brow at him. “I’m– he shouldn’t have touched either a’you,” he frowns, defensive, ignoring what you asked.

“No, he shouldn't have. That wasn't the question.”

Joel shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

You and Ezra share a glance and you top an eye roll with an arched eyebrow before disappearing inside, which makes Joel frown deeper.

"What?” He snaps at Ezra.

Ezra smirks at him and shakes his head. “She wants me to take you home.”

“We ain't leavin’ the girls here. Not after that,” Joel says flatly.

“I know. But we can wait out here a little bit, let her think I was successful. In luring you home with my wiles, of course. Not with making you see that they’re okay, even without us. If you hadn’t ‘a stepped in, one of our girls would have gutted him. Ellie was certainly ready to,” Ezra huffs, knocking his shoulder against Joel’s.

“Your wiles, hm?” Joel chucks his knuckles under Ezra’s scruffy chin, offering that little half smile before seeming to realize they are outside on the main thoroughfare, in plain sight. He stuffs his fists in his jacket pockets and frowns again, making Ezra chuckle.

“Speakin’ of the damned things- my wiles, that is– who won this morning? I mean, aside from you, who clearly benefited most from our friendly little competition.”

“Jesus,” Joel huffs, shaking his head. Ezra can see the shocked smile curling under the edges of his mustache and in the wrinkles by his eyes. “Sunny.”

“Oh, come now. I’m certain that I am the one who couldn't talk for an hour afterward with a raw throat from all your bucking. There's an alley just there, if you need a reminder.” he gives Joel a shove and the other man snorts.

“I was celebrating finally finding a way to make you shut up.”

“Only if I won, knuckles. Or if I'm next,” Ezra tries to give him a serious glare and dissolves into giggles at Joel’s wide-eyed, surprised, mooncalf look. He laughs harder when Joel shakes his head at him with a scowl.

He lets Joel shove him playfully into a lean against the part of the wall cast in shadow by the doorway loght. He lowers his voice, mindful of the open road and other milling members of the commune enjoying the evening just a few yards away. “Hmmm. I’m chiseling my way through that tough exterior, old man. What’re you gonna do to me when I do?”

Joel flicks his eyes over Ezra’s face, seeing that same goading, happy serenity he saw this morning, framed between his own thighs. He leans in, too close for mere friendship now. Ezra doesn't move, as if afraid to spook him. Joel doesn't think he will.

Not anymore.

Ellie cracked his carefully- bricked- up heart open, and you carved out a space for yourself easily after that. He knows Ezra's right there, ready, pickaxe in hand. His name was on the list tonight that he gave Ray, same as the girls'.

He lets his forward momentum knock him into Ezra, who cautiously steals a swift kiss. Joel lets it linger for a long second. When they pull apart, he finds Ezra's eyes glinting in the dark, honing in on his prey. It sends a shiver up his spine, different from the sort he used to feel, before Jackson. Before Ellie.

“I dunno,” Joel answers truthfully, instead of denying it will happen.

He knows it will.

#joel miller #the last of us #joel x reader #joel x you #ellie the last of us #ezra (prospect) #prospect (2018) #prospect film #ezra x reader #cee (prospect) #Joel x Reader x Ezra #poly dynamics #transplant #afab reader #no use of y/n #no description #also on ao3 #minors dni #minors do not interact

[bookslutskye]

PROSPECT FONT

yo i made a font based on the central glyph system that the lovely creators of prospect made up. i did change some of the punctuation marks because. i wanted to. who are you, my dad?

anyway feel free to use if you like

#if you translate my little sample #i cannot be held responsible for the things i wrote #if you follow me you will not be surprised #prospect 2018 #prospect film #prospect movie #ezra prospect #cee prospect #prospect writing system

[writer-darling]

Are You Ever Dreaming of Me?

Chapter 8: Out of the Woods | Read Chapter 7: Style!

I NEVER USE Y/N OR ANYTHING LIKE IT THANK YOU SO MUCH :)

Rating: M - Mature (THE TIME HAS COME) (18+ MINORS DNI)

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect, 2018) x F!Reader

Warnings: Good old enemies-to-lovers trope. age gap (10 years). Nothing super descriptive for Reader but they are described as having hair. Tension, OF ALL KINDS, reaches an all-time high. Adult language. A LOT of feelings and things of that nature. Banter. Flirting. It’s E-to-L, you know where this is going. Feral Ezra (he starts at an 83.5% but ends up at about a 90.79% in this chapter). Mentions of smoking and cigarettes. Crude language. If there are any that I missed, please inbox me to let me know and I will add them in :)

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary!: Things are different, changed after last night. As you and Ezra both try to comes to terms with what's happened, there's a disruption.

******

“Are we in the clear yet?

In the clear yet, good

(Are we out of the woods?)”

Ezra sees the change in you instantly. You’ve always been hyperfocused, even when not on the job. It’s one of the first things he ever admired about you… before he admired everything else, of course. But today is not like any other day. No… it most certainly is not. You’re avoiding him, as he suspected, but you don’t seem upset about what happened. No, rather you seem… out of it. Like your mind is miles away… or perhaps more accurately: hours in the past. Your distraction is obvious as you try to go about your day, but your eyes have a dazed, glassiness to them and you curse under your breath repeatedly every time you almost drop the clean laundry you’re trying to remove from the clothesline, which is becoming a frequent occurrence this morning. 

He watches as he sits outside of his tent, spending the morning sitting on a stool shining his boots to perfection, and chainsmoking like he’s never smoked before. He’s meticulously changed the laces, wiped the leather clean, and buffed and conditioned them until he can practically see his reflection. He’s heard your frustrated mumbling all morning and it has worried him. While he wishes to help, his guilt stops him. 

He doesn’t regret what happened, not one damn bit. It was the catalyst of all the fantasies he’s had these last few months. No, he doesn’t regret it at all. The guilt comes from how he handled everything else that happened yesterday. The petty bickering, his stubbornness, how the catalyst started, and the fact that he practically ran out of your tent like a bat out of hell just to fuck his fist before he took things much, much further than either one of you would’ve been comfortable with.

He should’ve stayed. He should’ve finally told you everything he wanted to tell you. He should have held you and apologized for his earlier behavior and then he should have had that amazing dinner with you tonight where he would finally tell you what he really wanted. That catalyst should have come from a place of understanding, of harmony, of love - maybe. But, Kevva-be-damned, he just couldn’t help himself last night. He loved seeing that fire in your eyes, hearing that venom in your voice. It drove him damn near crazy, it always did. Which, admittedly, wasn't the healthiest thing. But, Ezra could admit he wasn’t perfect, and he had never claimed to be. Still, he can’t help the slight anxiety that rises in him each time that crinkle between your brows deepens. Like now,

“Kevvasake!” You whisper angrily to yourself, your gloved palm on your thigh as you yank a particularly stubborn shirt. He can almost picture the whites of your knuckles under the leather of your glove. You sigh once it finally falls, tossing it into the laundry basket with the rest of the clean clothes, which you then lean against your hip. You straighten up and meet his gaze as if you sensed his eyes on you. Your eyes meet his for only a microsecond before you look away and head into your tent, not even giving Ezra a chance to offer you a smile or a wave. 

He sighs as he exhales his latest drag, and debates with himself to call after you, but ultimately makes the decision not to. It’s clear he pushed you too far, and you deserve some modicum of respectful distance from him. Even if it stings like carrom acid in his chest. Denver’s voice interrupts his internal debate, and Ezra realizes he didn’t even hear him walk up. Denver’d also been keeping an eye on you, and on Ezra.

“The hell’s going on with you two?” Ezra cracks a smile, a brief one. His brow furrows as he thinks of how best to word this, throwing the bud on the ground and crushing it with his boot before he answers Denver.

“We had a bit of a situation last night, boss.”

“And I’m guessing you screwed everything up?” It’s not really a question. Ezra sighs before answering, setting his boots aside with a sharp nod,

“...Your assumption would be a fairly adequate estimate.” 

“Hm… how bad?” The question makes Ezra pause for a moment as he meets Denver’s green eyes.

“That remains to be seen.” Both men go silent for a few minutes. Denver looks pensively at the forest floor. Finally, he speaks,

“Fix it.” Ezra raises his eyes to Denver’s, who’s already looking right at him again. Ezra simply salutes and trudges off to find you. When he pauses at the entrance of your tent, he realizes you’re not inside after his call for you goes unanswered. 

You’re not anywhere in the camp. But eventually, he finds you, knowing where you’ve headed.

You sit by the pool's edge, staring into the dark but tranquil water, your gaze unfocused. It’s only upon seeing the area that he remembers. He remembers what you told him about the apprentice camp. Shit. He clears his throat and you turn to face him.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” He starts cautiously.

“I’m guessing you’re gonna ask either way.” You respond, but your tone isn’t harsh at all, which floods him with relief.

“Did last night… Did it trigger anythin’ for you?” Your brow furrows at the way he says that. He’s thrown you for a loop with that question.

“What do you mean?” You ask. He sighs, the guilt suddenly back and threatening to swallow him whole. He approaches but keeps his distance, a good ten feet away from you. He removes his helmet and runs a gloved hand through his hair.

“I mean… about your… previous experience with prospectors.” He says. “Is that why you’ve been off all mornin’?” You blink at him a few times. That was not at all what was on your mind. Now Ezra’s really tearing himself up inside. It all spills out in a rush now. “I’m so sorry, rook, I didn’t even think. I was such a goddamn, horned-up fuckmonger that I completely forgot about that and I never meant to cause you any further trauma. If you no longer wish to speak to me, I fully understand, please believe that. I’m such a damned idiot that I-”

“Ezra.” Your voice is firm and clear, but again not as harsh as he expected. He shuts up instantly and focuses all of his attention on what you say next. You wait until his undivided attention is on you before you continue with your response, “No. It didn’t. I reciprocated. I’m only… confused. That’s all.” You say. For a second it seems like he doesn’t believe you, but he nods anyway.

“That’s fair then.” He says. You sigh and run a hand through your hair next.

“Truth is, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. But I know what we agreed on, and so I’m gonna let it go.” You conclude.

“Let it go?” He asks. You nod and smile, though it doesn’t reach your eyes for long.

“Mhm, just pretend it never happened. Easier that way. I mean that’s what we agreed to do, right?” You ask, your tone far too nonchalant for this conversation. And even as Ezra’s brow furrows and he mumbles a quiet confirmation, you both know that’s the last thing either of you want.

Especially Ezra. It’s like your words have an effect on him. As he averts his eyes, all he can see, hear, feel, and think is last night. The way you looked at him with starry-eyed haziness. The soft whine of your voice as you begged him for more. The heat of you as he touched you over and over again. His trousers are suddenly uncomfortably tight and he turns his body away from you for a full minute as he tries his damned hardest to get himself under control.

“Look, I’m fine.” You insist, making him turn towards you again. “I was just… overreacting. We’re friends.” You say, your lie does little to convince either of you. But you don’t let that stop you. “C’mon,” You brighten up and smile again. “We gotta get back to camp.” You walk ahead without turning to see if he’s followed.

You’re committed to this ‘friends’ bit, Ezra will give you that. He gives you your space but it’s like you insist on proving his concern for you wrong. You smile and joke with him and are suddenly hyperfocused as usual, going from one extreme to another. And Ezra isn’t quite sure how to feel about it, but he plays along. As lunch rolls around, you invite him back to your tent for a round of cards. He agrees, even if his heart skips in his chest and a light flush takes his face. 

You stop by the dining hall and have a difficult time maneuvering your way around. You’re still distracted, painfully so, but you try your best to just power through it. Still, the hall seems stuffier than usual. Like there’s suddenly every prospecter on camp inside it. As you look around for Ezra, you realize it is packed to the brim. Damn, were there always this many men in here? 

“Rook,” Ezra’s voice catches your attention and you notice he has his pack on his shoulders. He smiles and leads you two out with ease. You both make light conversation as you walk back to your tent for the moment, but your mind is still on trying to let last night go. It’s not healthy for you to be so focused on the vents of last night. Ezra’s not acting any different, so why are you? 

That all flies out the window as you two enter the tent and the tension almost threatens to paralyze the both of you as you’re alone now, with not even the distractions of nature as a buffer. But, you smile and walk over to your ice chest, acting like nothing’s off.

“Want anything?” You ask as you grab a water bottle from inside. He grabs a chair and shakes his head.

"I'm absolutely fine, I brought my own snacks from the mess hall." He says with a chuckle, "You got any other fun ideas for today? Other than playin’ cards and me havin’ to serve you once again?" he asks. He’s well aware he’s pushing his luck with that little flirtation at the end, but he wants to know how you’ll react anyway. Hell, he needs to know. He’s tempted to ask if you two are still on for dinner but he has a feeling that if he even remotely brings it up, you’ll go running for the hills. So, for once, he wisely holds his tongue.

“Serve me, huh?” You ask, opening up your bottle and taking a big gulp. You smile a little as you sit on your cot, in front of him. “Now there’s an idea.” You say with a twinkle. “I could use a personal servant.” You laugh softly, clearly joking.

Ezra laughs a bit louder as his eyes light up at your words, and he can't help but smile as you speak. "Is that so?" He asks, taking an apple out from his pack and taking a big bite from it before he tosses you one. "That... actually sounds nice, don’t it? Me as your personal servant..." he says with playful sarcasm, enjoying every second of the teasing between you, even with this added tension from the last 24 hours still looming over your heads. "Just imagine all the fun things I could do for you. You could have me at your beck and call… completely at your mercy…" he suggests with a sly grin.

You can’t help it as you go red as red as the apple in your hands at that. Having him at your beck and call. You clear your throat after a moment, hiding your embarrassment as best you can as you take another sip of your water, suddenly feeling hot. Ezra notices your sudden blush as soon as he makes his joke, and he decides to play into it. 

"Does that sound nice to you?" he asks, and there’s almost a tinge of desperation in his voice, leaning in closer and playing along. He can't help but feel a bit of pride at the little red tinge that comes to your cheeks, and he's enjoying every moment of it. His teasing is obvious, but it's clear he's having a good time being able to be around you and be himself, even with this uncertainty.

You recover quickly with a light scoff, even as your blush deepens again. “Pfft, in your wildest dreams.” You say, pushing his chest playfully.

He leans back in his chair with an amused expression on his face, even as every ounce of his will wants to drop to his knees in front of you. "Well look at that, I almost had you there," he teases, his smile still bright. "I was beginnin’ to think you might enjoy that," he muses. "But, I do have to know... if you could have me at your beck and call, wouldya?" he asks, still playful but wanting to get a legitimate answer. He just needs to hear it from your own lips. He knows the answer already, but goddess above, he’s dying to hear you say it. All he needs is one confirmation and he can finally relax, finally breathe without feeling like he’s got Bakhroma spores in his lungs.

Your mind immediately fills with images that are not at all PG, but you clear your throat again, swallowing hard but you recover quickly, blinking a few times to dispel them from your mind before you answer. “Yeah totally… I could use the forced manual labor to help me carry those damn packs full of gems.” You try to joke but it doesn’t come across as easily as it did before. You’re still feeling very overheated as you tuck your hair behind your ear.

Ezra laughs at your words despite their sarcastic tone. His whole face lights up at your words and he enjoys this little game you're playing. The little slight nervous glance away just makes it all the better for him. 

"Well okay then, let's test it..." he continues, "Tell me somethin’... what do you need me to do right this moment for you? Just give me a task that you feel is worthy of having me at your disposal," he asks, the smirk returning to his face as his voice takes on a slightly playful tone. "Come on. Test me."

You see that he’s serious. He wants you to test him. “Alright, I’m game. If you really want me to ‘test you’,” you make sure to add air quotes to that. “You can um…” You glance around and spot your pack. “Oh, you can count my earnings for yesterday.”

That was... not what Ezra had expected, and he can't help but grin as you speak and give him his task. "You know what? Sure, why not?" he says with a shrug and an approving nod. He reaches under your cot and grabs the pack, bringing it out between you two as he counts the four suitcases full of gems. "I'll count it all up and tell you the final tally," he says with a smile, "let's get this test underway. Ya got a notebook?” You crack a small smile and lay a notebook and pen out in front of him. He removes the button-up he’s wearing, leaving him in a sleeveless shirt, similar to the one from last night. He wants the most freedom available to him to work. 

He gets to counting the earnings, and he's actually quite the little perfectionist when it comes to these things. He takes it seriously, even just a test such as this. He wants to make sure you're impressed.

You 100% are as you watch him work. At first, that’s all it is, you feeling greatly impressed as he suddenly shifts his playful demeanor and hyper focuses on the task before him, his grin dropping into a neutral expression. Only a slight furrow of his dark brows reveals his concentration. It’s sort of endearing how earnestly he’s approaching this. And that makes you unable to tear your eyes away from him. But then… 

You can’t help it as your mind is suddenly elsewhere as you watch him with his head bowed over his task. The way he takes each case and carefully opens it up, counting each gem and making a rough estimate based on size and quality, then recounting them for good measure. Your focus goes from what he’s doing to the way he looks while he’s doing it. There’s that same furrow that creased his brow last night. And then, your eyes focus on the muscles of his arms as they flex and shift when he brings out each case. Reminding you of what those same muscles looked like half-hidden in shadow and moonlight. His long, thick fingers hold each gem he inspects like they’re the most precious material on terra firma. Those same fingers that maintained such a good rhythm that you fell apart faster than you ever have with your own touch. His dark hair hangs in his eyes as he slightly hunches over the cases of aurelac. The same hair you ached to tug on last night.

 Fuckssake. You’re pretty much gawking at him by the end of it.

Ezra's not even realizing that you're watching. He's so focused on his test - in his eyes, every single gem counts. He's very careful and thorough as he lays out all the gems and counts them, making sure to not make even a single mistake as he writes it all down in the notebook in front of him, the pen cap between his teeth. There's just something incredibly attractive about the way he's so focused and determined to do this task. And the fact that you see him this way is just... well, you've just become totally infatuated.

As he finishes, Ezra looks up at you and smiles, "Alright, well the final tally is 142 gems, with the most valuable one bein’ worth 400 hecaton grade. How does that compare to your initial estimate?" He asks, looking over at you with a smile. His eyes are still bright and his tone is warm, the playful nature of your previous interaction having now faded as you two had gotten deep into this little test. His expression is a little confused when you don’t answer right away. "Did I pass?"

You’re very impressed and also suddenly very aroused. He did it. He managed to impress the hell out of you. And Kevvasake, did it all while looking attractive as hell. You clear your throat as what he asks snaps you out of your reverie.

“You-You’re right on the money.” You say.

Ezra smiles and he chuckles as he stands, his eyes sparkling. "Well good," he says with a playful smile, still seemingly unaware of the effect he's having on you. "How's that for a first test?" he says with a wink, and he crosses his arms, giving a little chuckle as his whole face lights up in happiness. "And if you don't want me to be your personal servant... well, how about we just keep bein’ friends?" he suggests with a small smile, "Sound reasonable?"

You nod, your eyes still fixated on his arms and the way they move. Again some very not parent-friendly images come to your mind. You can’t even say anything, just watching the way his shoulders move with each breath he takes.

Ezra finally realizes the full effect that he's having on you, and he seems to just take it all in for a moment before he steps a little closer to you. He's right in front of you and he has what appears to be a gentle, caring expression on his face. He speaks in a whisper when he talks next, his head lowered so he's speaking down slightly towards you, right at eye level. "Hey... can ask you somethin’?" he asks softly, the playfulness completely faded.

You’re taken aback as he approaches and force yourself to focus on what he’s saying. You blink a few times, his dark eyes making you dizzy. “Y-Yeah, what’s uh, what’s up… buddy?” You internally slap yourself for saying that. It sounds so inorganic, just further revealing your nervousness. But he still smiles a little, understanding. You clear your throat, trying very hard to seem nonchalant and failing miserably.

Ezra's face turns soft as you refer to him as your ‘buddy,’ and his whole demeanor becomes more gentle the closer he is to you. He reaches out and brushes your hair away from your face. His eyes lock with yours as he looks down at you. "I really like you, and I want you to be honest with me, yeah?" he says with a soft smile, his voice quiet and gentle. You can see the serious, honest emotion in his eyes and he looks so... peaceful? It's hard to explain. The playful nature is gone from his voice, and you can tell what he's about to say is really important to him.

“I-I like you too, Ezra.” You say, your eyes briefly glancing at the movement of his fingers as he brushes your hair back before meeting his eyes again. You offer him a small smile, still visibly nervous. “Why?”

The sigh he releases sounds troubled and his brows furrow. Your own brow furrows too. “Ezra, tell me.” You add when he hesitates to say what’s on his mind.

“Last night was… fuckin’ incredible.” He breathes suddenly and your heart stutters at the intensity in his eyes. “I just want to make sure I didn’t bring up any bad memories for you. I want to make sure you don’t regret it.”

“Ezra, we-”

“I know what we agreed.” He says firmly, cutting off your attempt to deflect. “But, please… I need to know how you feel about it.” His voice is so desperate. You feel a lump in your throat as you feel frozen in place by his gaze. There’s an electric moment, tense and charged as you think.

“It was amazing.” You finally say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ezra’s smile is like the suns breaking through dark storm clouds. His shoulders almost sag with relief and he holds your gaze for a moment before pulling you into his arms and hugging you. 

It's the most gentle embrace, and you can feel his momentary hesitation, but it's the first time he's actually hugged you. He lets out a content sigh as he holds you tight for a moment before he looks back at you with the same soft, almost... dreamy expression from before. His hands come up to the side of your face before his thumb brushes against your cheek. "You can tell me anythin’, no matter how big or small, and I will be there for you. You got me, rook?"

You’re taken aback by the sudden hug, realizing it is indeed the first time you’ve ever hugged each other. If you’re honest, you were expecting a completely different reaction but you’re not mad about it at all. You hug him back slowly, your arms wrapping around him as you lay your head against his shoulder for a short moment, breathing in the scent of his cigarettes. His sigh makes you melt a little and when he brushes his thumb along your cheekbone you almost want to lean into his touch as soft thrills run down your spine.

You nod, suddenly feeling overwhelmed at the shift at the moment. There’s a vulnerability, an intimacy here you weren’t expecting.

“I got you.” You respond, growing a little misty-eyed. “And I hope you know I feel the same way. You can count on me for anything, Ez.” You say softly, sincerely. “I know things between us are… weird right now but I do trust you.”

Ezra's smile grows as you speak, and he puts his forehead against yours for a moment as his other hand rests against your lower back. You never expected this moment to come, but this feeling - this... connection - you two have formed is something special. He can tell you mean what you say... he can see it in your eyes and feel it when he embraces you once again. 

There’s something else in his eyes too, something that wasn’t there moments ago. Something you only saw a glimpse of last night. But then it’s gone as he smiles and lets you go, giving you your space again.

"Well then, partner," he says softly once again, the playfulness returning to his voice, "I guess we're friends now. Official, official friends. How's that sound?"

“Official, official friends.” You say softly, nodding and laughing gently at his cute terminology. But then your mind once again fills with the image of his obsidian eyes as he made you come on his fingers and your chest feels hollow.

It seems he’s about to say something else when suddenly you both notice a commotion outside; there’s the sudden sound of gunfire outside and screaming from your fellow prospectors.

Your eyes flash to Ezra with concern as you both drop immediately to crouched positions, the sounds of combat now in your ears as your adrenaline spikes.

******

Finally after 5 months, here is Chapter 8! Yes it's a cliffhanger BUT I WILL BE UPDATING CHAPTER 9 NEXT WEEK!! Happy holidays AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! <3

Tag List:  @luz-introvertida @castleamc @moralesfish  @december-gal1 @castleamcc @hillarymurray4 @supernaturalgirl @supernaturalgirl20 @sherala007 @littlemisspascal @practicalghost @donnaa @scorpio-marionette @kayleezra @amandanik23 @maxpbxtch97 @lowlights @shadesofnerdlygrace @harriedandharassed @carefulnowprincess @amneris21 @horton-hears-a-honk @xdaddysprincessxx @trickstersp8 @mandy-sings @mswarriorbabe80 @permanentlydizzy @teddy2510 @bitchwitch1981 @jedi-in-crocs @theredwritingwitch @thesoftdumbass @readingiskeepingmegoing @pedropascalposting

Links!

Join the Tag List here

Ao3 link here

TikTok here

Story Playlist here

The Masterlist here

Read Chapter 9: The Great War!

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal x f!reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #ezra prospect #prospect 2018 #prospect film #ezra x you #ezra x reader #ezra x female reader #ezra x f!reader #ezra prospect fanfiction #crossposted on ao3 #are you ever dreaming of me?