#hopefully yall enjoy it?

[ghcstpyre]

PINKIE SWEAR.

*•.¸♡ ted "theodore" logan x f!reader

PART ONE. ted is still a virgin. you offer to change that.

contents: virgin!ted, afab!reader, a bit of fluff, angst if you squint, post-excellent adventure, pre-bogus journey, drug use (weed), fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), slight praise kink, unprotected p in v sex. MINORS BEGONE!

word count: 7.5k

a/n: after sitting in my drafts for 2 months, it's finally here! i'm so excited to get this one out of my brain and into writing and i really hope you enjoy reading it as much as i've enjoyed/am going to enjoy writing it! :)

taglist: @scarlettspectra

The thick smell of weed hung heavy in the air of Bill and Ted's apartment, its source pinched between your index and middle finger. You'd perched yourself atop the kitchen countertop in one of the few un-cluttered spaces, lazily toking from the joint in your hand.

It was evening in the middle of July and the colours of the sunset shone through the little window opposite you, bathing the messy kitchen in a gold and orange glow. You and Ted had forgotten to crack open a window before you lit up, but by the time either of you had realised you were both too baked to care and the damage had already been done.

Ted was sat on the sofa, his old acoustic guitar in his hands, fingers plucking away an unknown tune. Or maybe it was a tune you should know, but the fingers on the strings were too inexperienced for you to be able to tell what it was. His guitar playing skills had improved somewhat since the History Report fiasco, but not by a huge margin.

You thought that having a literal princess as a girlfriend to impress would help spur him on, and for a time it had done, but you'd noticed Ted becoming more withdrawn since his relationship with Elizabeth had ended. He 'd been pretty torn up over it at the time, but it had been over a month now since they ended things on friendly terms and you'd picked up on his change in demeanor.

It felt cruel, but you couldn't say you were too heartbroken for Ted when he broke the bad news to you. The thick, green worm of jealousy had wriggled its way under your skin and buried itself within your chest the moment Ted introduced Elizabeth to you as his girlfriend. It had been festering there ever since, making its nest within your heart.

Of course, it was your own fault for realising your feelings for Ted a little too late. Everyone always said 'better late than never', but you didn't think you could apply it to the crappy situation you found yourself in.

But now Ted was single again. It seemed the universe had decided to give you another chance.

Slowly, you tilted your head to the side, dragging your gaze away from the view of the sunset to look at the object of your affection. He'd gone from plucking the strings to strumming them listlessly, clearly a million miles away.

Your whole body thrummed with the buzz of your high, a faint ringing in your ears. You knew you were high as hell - it felt like your skull had been stuffed full of cotton wool and your eyes were heavy, sclera tinted red and lids droopy.

As heavy as your eyes felt, you managed to drag your gaze across Ted's form. His mop-like, dark brown hair had fallen into his face like it usually did, but the blazing glow of the sunset shining through the living-room window cast an orange halo around his head, making him look almost angelic. The usual chocolate hues of his eyes were glittering hazel as he sat with the guitar in his hands, basking in the warmth of the setting sun.

Your eyes followed the movements his large hands made on the strings and fretboard of the beat-up guitar. There were a few stickers littered around the front of its body, faded and torn with age, and scratch marks where someone had obviously tried to peel stickers off with little to no success.

For a brief moment, like you'd done so many times in the past, you imagined what it'd be like to have Ted's hands on your body, his fingertips rough and hardened from the strings of his guitars. That familiar and inevitable heat sparked in your core and you squeezed your thighs together against the slight pulsing between your legs.

"Hey," Your voice was mellow and slow as you tried to get Ted's attention. "You gonna help me smoke this or what?" You asked, holding the joint out in his direction.

Ted was promptly pulled away from his thoughts at the sound of your voice, hands ceasing their movements on the acoustic guitar as he looked over at you, and then at the smoke pinched between your fingers. A lopsided grin tugged at his lips. "Oh, yeah."

He set the guitar down next to him and pushed himself up from the dingy green sofa, the old springs within it groaning in protest at the sudden shift in weight. The soles of his white sneakers squeaked on the tiles of the kitchen as he eagerly stumbled his way from the living room, still feeling the effects of your last spliff.

His long fingers took the joint from your own and he settled opposite you, leaning up against the counter next to the sink, just in front of the fish bowl. He lifted it to his pink lips and took a nice, long drag, the cherry on the end burning as orange as the sunset. After a few beats of holding it in, Ted released the smoke in one long exhale, filling the space between you with a thick, pungent cloud.

The red basketball shorts Ted wore hung low on his hips, the waistband of his boxers poking out above them and concealing just below the bottom of his dark snail trail. You had to do your best to drag your eyes away from the mouth-watering view and instead focused your gaze on his chest. It wasn't any less tantalizing - his old San Dimas High School tank top was a little too small for him now and clung to his torso in all the right places, giving you a wonderful view of the slight muscle definition on his body and arms that he usually hid behind baggy t-shirts and jackets.

It wasn't until he'd said your name for a third time that you realised Ted was trying to get your attention. "You okay there dude?" He asked, genuine concern in his eyes, sclera just as bloodshot as yours and lids just as heavy.

You swallowed hard as you composed yourself, offering him a reassuring smile and hoping he hadn't caught you checking him out. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just really stoned."

Ted gave you an amused smirk in return, flashing you with a bright, toothy grin as he brought the joint to his lips once again. "Excellent."

You muffled a snort against your hand. The way Ted and Bill spoke was something you'd always found equal parts amusing and endearing. It was goofy, but somehow you felt it added to Ted's strange charm.

A soft padding could be heard below you as you lightly swung your legs back and forth, your heels knocking against the cupboard door as you watched Ted pull from the spliff. His features took on a somber edge and his eyes glazed over slightly, clearly miles away once again.

"Hey, Ted? Are you okay?" Your voice was soft, cautious almost, as you got his attention. "You've been kind of distant lately. I know breaking up with Elizabeth must've been tough but...do you wanna talk about it?"

He regarded you silently, pursing his lips a little with a slight furrow in his brow. Ted's gaze fell to his feet and he tapped the tips of his sneakers together. Eventually, he nodded. "...Yeah, " His voice was hoarse, almost like the word was a struggle for him to get out. "I think talking might do me some good."

It hurt seeing Ted so visibly deflated like this, but you were glad he was willing to finally open up about things - even if it did mean you had to listen to him pine over his ex. Still, more than anything you just wanted to be there for your friend, as a friend.

Ted offered you a grateful smile, the corners of his full lips quirking upwards beautifully. He reached out to pass you the joint and tingles ran up your arm as your fingers brushed his before taking the joint from him. He swallowed thickly, trying to figure out where and how to begin while he watched you fumble with the lighter, sparking the smoke up again and breathing new life into the cherry on the end.

"It's just...bogus, y'know?" He started, running a hand through his glossy hair. "Elizabeth was my first proper girlfriend - she, Bill, Joanna and I basically did everything together. Being with them was always a most excellent time."

You nodded along as he spoke, toking from the joint and turning your head away slightly to blow the smoke out, away from Ted's face. The green worm coiled around your heart squeezed.

"But now it's just the three of us and I'm a total third wheel all the time. Or - or it's the three of them, without me. Elizabeth said we're still friends but that she needs some time - which is perfectly okay, I mean, I'm not about to force things like a dickweed or something, but..." A long, frustrated sigh left his lips.

Ted already felt like a complete jackass for feeling this way about his friends, and even more so for complaining about them in the open like this. Friends weren't supposed to talk smack about each other behind their backs. He looked at you from beneath his long, dark lashes, almost like he was seeking your approval. He'd always had a nasty habit of second guessing himself - undoubtedly put there by his asshole of a father - but this was uncharted territory for him and he felt like a fish out of water.

Sensing his need for guidance, you tilted your head and offered him a sympathetic smile. "You miss your friends." You finished for him.

He nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders he didn't even realise was there beginning to ease. "Yeah, exactly." He looked up at you properly, meeting your gaze. "It's why I'm most grateful for you offering to hang out so often since Elizabeth and I split. It's been a totally lonely time, but seeing you has made it a bit easier."

Your chest tightened and your heart stuttered. Of course you'd wanted to be there for Ted as he dealt with his first breakup, but you couldn't deny that there were selfish motivations lurking beneath your good intentions. Guilt mingled with the fluttering of your heart.

"I'm always gonna be there for you during your hours of need, dude." You smiled.

Ted watched as you puffed from the joint again and blew out the thick cloud through your plush lips. The smoke rising from the glowing cherry swirled as it hung in the air, twisting around you lazily like a living thing, high off its own fumes and glowing in the light of the sunset. His chocolate brown gaze dropped to the KISS logo plastered over the chest of the t-shirt you wore - his t-shirt that you'd stolen some time ago now.

Elizabeth always told him it was strange that he let you wear his clothes sometimes, but he never thought anything of it. It was only now, however, that he noticed just how much he liked it when you did.

Is that weird? Ted thought to himself. Since when did she get so...bodacious?

He'd always thought you were pretty, but there was something different about you that he'd started to notice. Ted found his gaze lingering on you longer than it should, sometimes on places he definitely shouldn't be looking at. Especially now with the light of the sunset setting the colour of your hair ablaze, his t-shit hanging comfortably on your body, and your summer short-shorts clinging to your upper thighs.

His eyes dropped a little lower as the comfortable silence you found yourself in stretched on a bit longer. He noticed the way the flesh of your thighs spread out on the countertop, the bare skin below your shorts sticking to the marble in the summer heat. Ted swallowed thickly before looking you in the eye once again.

You noticed the way his eyes trailed over your body but decided not to comment, despite the way your heart hammered in your chest. "Plus, I guess this makes band practice difficult. That's gotta be frustrating."

"Yes! God, yeah, it is most vexing." Ted looked at you like you'd just put everything he'd been feeling over the last few months into words. If he'd known how liberating it would be to vent his frustrations, he would've come to you to talk sooner. You always had a knack for finding the words to describe how he felt. "How is Wyld Stallyns gonna be the most triumphant rock band in history if we can't even practice?"

A giggle slipped past your lips, glad that he seemed to have perked up a little. Wyld Stallyns were terrible, but you'd supported them unconditionally no matter how bad they sounded. "Just give it more time, Ted. I promise you she'll come round and you guys will be able to practice and hang out again just like you used to. You're doing really well, just have a little more patience."

The idea of Elizabeth and Ted spending time together again didn't exactly fill you with glee, but you doubted they'd get back together - at least, not immediately. You hoped.

His eyes dropped to your thighs again as you passed the joint back to him, the tip of his tongue poking out to wet his lips. "There's...kinda something else that's been bugging me, but I don't know if I should..." Ted trailed off, a light pink hue rising to his cheeks.

"Go on," You urged, nodding at him to continue. If there was more weighing on him, you wanted to coax it out of him.

He avoided your gaze, eyes sliding off to the right. "Okay...y'know how Bill and I explained that the princesses are...chaste?" You nodded and hummed in understanding. "Well, it took me eighteen years to finally get a girlfriend. Now I'm twenty-three, single and there are things that most guys have done by now that I still haven't experienced." The embarrassment was evident on his face; he couldn't meet your gaze at all.

You simply blinked at him, processing his words. Then, the penny dropped. "You're a virgin?" Your mouth was blurting the words before you could stop them.

Ted's cheeks flushed crimson and he let out a frustrated groan. Although he completely respected Elizabeth's boundaries and was more than happy to have waited until marriage to finally experience the intimacy he craved, he couldn't deny that it had been a ball-ache - metaphorically and in some cases, physically. Bill had cracked a joke about their right hands being their second girlfriends; at the time Ted had found it funny, but now it just depressed and frustrated the hell out of him.

"No-!" He raised his voice slightly in defense, almost offended by the 'V' word. He shook his head. "-I mean yes? I mean-" The hand that wasn't holding the spliff reached up to drag his palm over his face as he visibly deflated. "It just sucks, dude. I feel super lame." He let out another long sigh, defeated.

Ted brought the joint to his lips, taking one final, long drag before stubbing it out in one of the nearby dirty mugs in the sink. He looked back down at his shoes again, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his shorts.

"Teddy, hey," The nickname caught his attention, but he didn't have the courage to meet your gaze just yet. You unstuck your thighs from the kitchen counter and hopped down, stepping forward to close the distance between the two of you. When he still refused to acknowledge you, you brought your hands up to rest on the sides of his exposed biceps and squeezed gently. "Teddy, look at me."

He hesitated for a moment before lifting his head to look at you and your sweet smile.

"You're not lame. Like, at all." You reassured him, your thumbs rubbing slow, comforting circles on his skin. "In fact, I think it's totally chivalrous of you to have waited for Elizabeth."

Ted tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy. "...You think so?"

Cute. You thought.

"Of course!" You smiled brightly at him, having to tilt your head up to look him in the eye. "Not many guys would do that. Most would just get bored and dump their girlfriend after a few weeks so they could go and get some."

His face soured at the notion. "Heinous."

You giggled and his expression immediately brightened as the sweet sound filled the kitchen, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he dipped his head down and chuckled. That was one thing he always liked about you - your laugh. Especially when he was the reason for it.

You retracted your hands from his arms and he mourned the loss of contact, his skin tingling where your thumbs had been circling.

"Besides, there's nothing bad about it. Everyone experiences things at different paces. Like, you smoked weed before I did." Your words had a small grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Do what you wanna do at your own pace and don't care about what anyone else thinks. Just because you haven't had sex yet doesn't make you any less of a catch."

He lifted his head to look at you again. "Thanks, babe. I really do appreciate it."

The bright expression on his face was the sign you needed to know you'd made him feel better, at least for the time being. The two of you stood there for a few moments, dissolving into stoned giggling. Ted's cheeks were flushed and his eyes shimmered with mirth, the sight being enough to make you swoon internally.

With the orange glow behind him, Ted looked like a dream. A dream you wanted to be a part of.

Hold on a moment. Did Ted call you babe?

An idea popped into your baked mind, head still hazy from the joint you'd just smoked. You weren't really sure if it was a good idea, but you figured if it all blew up in your face you could just blame it on the weed. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the friendship you had with Ted, especially since his others were currently rocky, but you were high and you wanted him.

"Hey..." You started, your heartbeat picking up the pace. "...If you're still worried about that kind of stuff, I could help out."

Ted's giggles died down and he cocked his head at you in confusion once again. "Huh? What d'you mean?"

Of course he had to pick now to be dense. "Well, y'know..." You tilted you head forward and looked up at him from beneath your lashes, hoping he'd get the message.

His brows raised in recognition and he formed an 'o' with his lips before breaking out into a grin. "Ooohh, you wanna be my wingman?"

You scrunched your face up. "What? No."

"Then whaddya mean?"

"You know what I mean!"

"Babe, I have no idea what you're saying."

"Do you wanna have sex with me?"

The smoke still swirling between you seemed to freeze in place, your words hanging heavy between the two of you. You could feel how hot your cheeks were and you could hear your pulse thumping in your ears, but you were determined to hold his startled gaze.

Ted simply blinked at you, completely dumbstruck, the gears in his head whirring as he tried to process what you'd just said. He was struggling to comprehend if he had actually heard you correctly or not.

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing on the soft flesh nervously and your eyes were trained on his every movement like a hawk. His silence didn't comfort you and although it only lasted for a few moments, to you it felt like an age before he finally responded.

"I...uh...huh?"

Anxiety simmered in your stomach, threatening to bubble over into frustration. You were already embarrassed enough as is and Ted's utter confusion didn't help your hammering heart.

You breathed in slowly, trying to calm your nerves. "Do you wanna hook up?" A small, shy smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "With me?"

Ted's heart thumped rapidly beneath his tank top and your eyes followed his Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down. His hands trembled slightly within his pockets - equal parts nerves and desire. Ted was usually one to articulate himself using large, goofy hand gestures, but right now he was glad his hands were tucked away so you couldn't see how much his hands shook.

"Are you - are you serious?" He asked, his deep voice cracking adorably.

A few strands of hair fell into your face as you nodded, your fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt. "Y-Yeah. I mean, we're both high, we're friends-" You swallowed thickly and wet your lips with the tip of your tongue. Ted's eyes followed the movement and you took a small step forward, "-You're cute...plus, it'll mean you'll have one less thing to worry about, right?"

His eyes flicked up to your eyes, down to your lips, then back to meet your gaze again. It didn't go unnoticed.

One of Ted's hands retracted from his pocket to reach out and gently brush away those fallen strands of hair from your face, tucking them behind your ear. You were sure then, if it could've done, your heart would've leapt right out of your chest and into his hand. Your breath hitched and your smile turned from shy to hopeful.

"I...yeah, I guess that makes sense." Heat rose to Ted's cheeks and his smile matched your own before faltering slightly. "But, won't it make things, like, totally weird between us?"

You shook your head. "Nah. I promise we'll still be friends afterwards." Lifting a hand, you wiggled your pinkie finger in front of him. "Pinkie Swear."

With a small, amused huff, Ted linked his little finger with yours and held it for a few beats before pulling you towards him using your pinkie. The hand that had remained inside his pocket moved to rest on the curve of your hip, his thumb rubbing your soft skin over the material of your top. Your own free hand came to tentatively rest on his chest.

Now that your hips were almost flush against his, and thanks to his loose-fitting shorts, you could feel his length pressed against your thigh. He was already a bit hard.

"Is that a yes?" Your voice was breathless as you asked, not expecting the sudden surge in confidence after his initial confusion and bashfulness.

Ted's voice was low and husky when he responded, his tone immediately causing heat to pool between your legs. He leaned in, plush pink lips only an inch away from yours.

"Hell yes."

Finally, Ted's lips captured yours in a kiss that, for you at least, felt like a long time coming. The nervous simmering in your tummy exploded in the form of happy fireworks as his lips moved slow and tender over your own, giddiness and lust threatening to take you over.

This was Ted's first time so you were determined to keep your own desires in check - to go at his pace.

His pinkie finger released yours in favour of snaking his hand around your neck to cradle the back of your head as he towered over you, lips still connected to yours. Your own hand lingered in place for a second before joining the other on his broad chest, savoring the feeling of his excited heartbeat against your palms.

You pulled away from each other for a moment to catch your breath. Ted's pupils were blown wide with desire, his deep brown eyes looking like inky black pools. Combined with the crimson hue blooming across his cheeks, your best friend looked absolutely delicious.

Neither you nor Ted could believe this was actually happening.

"Whoa..." A big, toothy grin spread across his freshly kissed lips.

You didn't even get a chance to respond before Ted's mouth descended upon yours again, this time with a little more urgency. The hand that gripped your hip circled around your waist to hold you tightly against him while his other threaded his fingers through your hair. You practically melted into him, raising onto the balls of your feet to wrap your arms around his neck and push him back against the counter behind him.

The ache between your legs urged you on. You traced your tongue along Ted's bottom lip, desperate for more. He was more than happy to oblige, parting his lips for you and letting out a soft groan as your tongue slid against his.

You were sure that that little sound was enough to send you to heaven. Or at the very least, would be living in your head rent free for the next...well, forever.

The inside of your mouth tasted like weed, smoke and the chocolate you'd snacked on earlier when the munchies hit, and Ted briefly wondered if there was any part of you in that moment that he didn't find completely intoxicating. Every kiss, every touch, every swipe of your tongue had his cock throbbing inside his shorts, straining against the fabric and aching for attention.

Without even realising it, Ted began grinding his rigid length against your thigh, pulling a little gasp from your lips. The friction paired with your tongue in his mouth was almost enough to make his toes curl in his sneakers.

Ted could count on one hand the number of girls he'd kissed, but this was by far the best kiss he'd ever had.

Why hadn't he done this with you sooner?

Sensing his need, you slid the palms of your hands down his torso to the waistband of his boxers. His breath hitched in his throat and his dick twitched with anticipation as you smiled against his plush lips, your fingers dipping just below the elastic to toy with the waistband.

"Can I touch you?" You breathed against his mouth, desperate to feel the size of him in your hands, in your mouth, and buried deep inside you.

Ted's eyes fluttered open and he nodded, letting out a shaky breath. "Y-Yeah."

In one swift motion you pushed down his boxers and shorts, letting them pool around his ankles as you sunk down to your knees. His cock sprung free, long with a thick vein running up the underside and a lovely pink head, a bead of precum already forming at the tip.

He was absolutely gorgeous. If you weren't wet before, you were surely soaking through your panties by now.

You reached your hands up to run your fingers down his flat stomach, trailing them over his cute snail trail and through the dark thatch of curls sitting above where you wanted to be most. He watched you the whole time through heavily-lidded eyes, his bottom lip caught between his pearly white teeth.

The sight of you on your knees before him was the hottest thing he'd ever seen and you hadn't even touched him yet.

Ted's whole body jolted as you wrapped a hand around his shaft, your other hand resting on his thigh. You gave his cock a few slow, long strokes, looking up and drinking in the sight of him as he gripped onto the edge of the kitchen counter and gazed down at the most excellent view of you with his dick in your hand.

The whimpers that escaped him were all the encouragement you needed. Without warning you leaned in to lick a hot, wet stripe up the underside of his shaft and press a kiss to his wet tip. Ted practically keeled over, inhaling sharply.

"You okay?" You asked, concern swimming with the lust in your eyes as you pulled back a little.

Ted nodded, the corners of his lips quirking upwards in a small, sheepish smile. "Y-Yeah, I'm good. Just wasn't, uh, expecting that."

You squeezed his thighs affectionately. "Want me to carry on?"

"God yes."

Having the go-ahead, you leaned in again and took the head of his throbbing cock into your mouth.

"Oh fuck."

Ted managed to release the vice grip he had on the countertop to thread his fingers through the hair on the top of your pretty head as you began bobbing your head, the other hand still gripping onto the counter for dear life. You took a little more of him into your mouth with each motion, swirling your tongue around the swollen head when you pulled back.

"Fuck babe, that feels so good."

The salty taste of his precum on your tongue sent bolts of heat straight to your core, now hyper aware of the aching need between your legs. Unable to handle it anymore, your spread your thighs apart and slid one of your hands into your shorts to rub slow circles on your clit through the damp fabric of your panties.

It was taking all of Ted's willpower and restraint to not buck his hips forward into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. The sight of you touching yourself as you sucked his dick was almost too much for him to handle and he had to clap the hand that white-knuckled the counter over his mouth to muffle the loud moan that slipped out.

His moan was like music to your ears. You needed to hear more. Steeling yourself, you pulled your wet lips off his cock with a pop, inhaled deeply, and then took his entire length down your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut as the coarse curls of his dark pubes tickled your nose and you moaned around his girth as your fingers worked on your sensitive bud.

"Oh shit," Ted practically yelled, throwing his head back and letting out a long, low groan of pleasure. His fingers tightened in your hair and his toes curled in his shoes as he desperately fought against the urge to cum down your throat there and then.

He pulled on your hair, gentle enough to not hurt you, but hard enough to get you to drag your mouth from his dick.

"Fuck babe - I almost came." Ted panted, completely breathless as you gazed up at him, tears pricking at the corners of your glassy eyes and your lips were red, swollen and shiny with spit.

He unthreaded his fingers from your hair to help you up to your feet and immediately pull you in for another kiss, each press of his lips harder and hungrier than the last. His hands were quick to find your hips and you gasped against his mouth as he squeezed them tight and kicked his boxers and shorts from around his ankles.

Ted began pushing you backwards until your lower back hit the edge of the counter. His irises were completely engulfed by his inky black pupils and his large hands slid up underneath your t-shirt, savouring the feeling of your soft skin beneath his palms as they travelled up your waist to your ribs.

His burning desire was swallowing him whole and he was acting purely on impulse. Ted had been worried he'd fumble this with his lack of experience, but judging by the way you responded to his advances and touches, it seemed that just letting go was working in his favour.

Before you could say anything Ted's lips were on yours again, his kisses absolutely feverous and starting to make your head spin. Just as you pulled away to catch your breath, his hands cupped your breasts and squeezed gently. Your head lolled back and you pushed your chest forward into the sensation, seeking more attention. Ted was more than happy to oblige, kneading the soft flesh of your tits beneath your top with his large hands.

You twitched and let out a needy whine when one of Ted's thumbs grazed over your nipple, his mouth swallowing that sweet sound. He pulled his lips away from yours to repeat the motion again, this time circling both his thumbs over your hard, sensitive nubs. Wonder swam in his jet black eyes as he watched you arch your back into his touch and gasp, unconsciously canting your hips into his and gripping onto his broad shoulders.

Your fantasies could never have prepared you for the real thing. The pads of his fingertips were hard and rough from the hours upon hours he'd spent almost every day pouring over his beloved Gibson, and they felt heavenly on your soft skin as they trailed down from your breasts to your hips once again.

"Can I...?"

Ted's voice was hoarse as he mumbled against your lips, his fingers toying with the button of your denim shorts as he pulled back slightly to meet your heavy gaze. He knew he'd need guidance for what came next and he prayed to the gods of music (Oh great god of metal, Mr Osbourne, dude...please don't let me fuck this up!) that you would be willing to help him out without too much judgement.

If you were to laugh at him, he was sure he'd shrivel up and die on the spot.

You blinked up at him and smiled, giving him the go-ahead with a confident nod. Despite the way his hands trembled, Ted popped open the button on your shorts and shimmied them down over your hips and thighs, taking your panties with them.

Rather than letting you step out of the material, Ted lifted you up to place you back in the space on the kitchen counter you'd been sat in before. The bright, toothy grin on your face told him that that was definitely the right move. He had a feeling that all those evenings spent watching raunchy rom-coms with Bill, Joanna and Elizabeth were going to come in handy.

Ted paused, his shoulders tensing. Wait, no. He shouldn't be thinking about Elizabeth right now.

He was promptly pulled from his thoughts by your legs hooking around his hips and pulling him into the space between your parted thighs, your hands finding their way to his broad shoulders once again.

"You okay?" You asked, sensing his hesitation.

It was incredibly difficult to ignore the press of his erection against your inner thigh, but you wanted to make sure he was still okay with what was happening between you before you went any further.

He nodded, albeit stiffly, and the tips of his ears burned hot. "Y-Yeah, just...I, uh, might need some help with this part."

The sweet smile that you gave him had his heart doing flips within his ribcage. "That's cool," You said, your fingers twirling in the incredibly soft, dark hair at the base of his skull as your voice took on a lighter tone. "I happen to be intimately familiar with myself so I'm really gonna be the best teacher you'll get right now."

Your words drew an amused huff from Ted and the tension in his shoulders eased off. "Awesome. So, um, how do you like to be touched?"

It was such an innocent question but it made your pussy throb something fierce.

You took one of his hands into your own and brought his thumb to your lips. Ted's eyes zeroed in on your mouth and he inhaled sharply as you sucked on it. You coated the appendage with spit before guiding it down to your clit, his head dipping as he followed your movements.

"Here," You shuddered as his callused pad pressed against your little bundle of nerves. "Start with slow circles."

Ted did as he was told and began moving his thumb in slow, steady circles over your clit, mesmerized by the sight and sensation of your sensitive flesh beneath his touch. The soft sighs of satisfaction coming from you spurred him on and he picked up the pace. His other hand moved back underneath your top to gently pinch your nipple.

You gasped and spread your legs further, scooting to the edge of the counter and seeking more of that delicious friction.

"Want your fingers in me, Ted."

Uncertainty and lust swam in his eyes as they snapped back to yours, his cheeks flushed a wonderful shade of pink.

"Don't worry," You comforted. "I'll guide you."

Doing his best to steady the tremble in his hand, Ted dragged his middle finger over your slick folds to gently rub at your entrance. The corners of his plush lips quirked upwards - you were so wet. Not just wet, you were soaked.

"Whoa, babe. You're totally dripping wet right now." Ted grinned, flashing you with a bright, toothy smile filled with pride.

Giddiness bubbled in your chest, delight rushing throughout your body and you curled your toes. You matched his grin. "Duh; my hot best friend is about to fuck me. Of course I'm wet."

He blinked at you owlishly and his cock twitched against your inner thigh. "...You think I'm hot?"

You hesitated before nodding. "I...have done for a while-"

Your confession was cut off by a gasp as Ted slid his finger inside you without warning. The walls of your pussy instinctively squeezed his long digit as he slowly pumped it in and out of you experimentally, his eyes on your face the whole time to check for any signs of discomfort.

"That's it," You breathed. "Now add another finger."

Ted savoured your praise did as he was told, pulling his hand back to push both his middle and ring finger into you. You moaned softly this time and lifted your knees to give him better access and a better angle, the slight stretch filling you will a little more satisfaction.

You'd gotten so used to the feeling of your own touch you'd almost forgotten what it felt like with someone else. God, you missed this.

"Ah!" Pleasure shot through your nerves when his long digits brushed against that sweet spot deep inside you. "There, Teddy - curl your fingers right there."

He pushed his fingers into you to the knuckles and curled them as you said, his calloused fingertips rubbing against your g-spot and pulling more delightful sounds from your lips as he fingered you. Ted could feel the way your walls clenched around his digits and the wet sounds of your soaking cunt taking his fingers so easily had him so hard it almost hurt.

Judging by your reactions he was pretty damn sure he was making you feel good, but he wanted to hear you say it - no, he needed you to tell him.

"Is that good?"

The doe-eyed look on his face paired with his fingers working you like magic was enough to make you whimper. He may not have been able to play the guitar that well, but he was playing your pussy well enough to have you singing.

"Y-Yes," You nodded as your thighs began to tremble. "Feels so fuckin' good, Teddy."

Ted couldn't hold on any longer. Retracting his slick digits from you, he dipped down to press a quick, searing kiss to your lips and then rest his forehead against yours.

"Babe, I gotta fuck you now."

"Please," You panted, hooking your legs around his hips once more as he reached down to line himself up with your entrance.

Ted looked into your eyes as if waiting for permission to go past the point of no return. You nodded in confirmation, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as your whole body buzzed with anticipation.

Slowly, Ted pushed his throbbing length inside you, inching in bit by bit as the wet walls of your pussy accommodated his size. Your fingernails left little crescent moon marks on his smooth skin as you gripped onto his broad shoulders, closing your eyes and doing your best to relax as he inched further in.

The low, loud grown from Ted made the sensation of his cock stretching you out all the sweeter. Your hot breaths mingled as Ted bottomed out, his hips flush against the soft skin of your inner thighs and his hands moved to rest on your hips.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, holding each other and unmoving. You expected Ted to begin thrusting not long after pushing all the way in, but he was as still as a statue for long enough that it had you concerned.

"Teddy?" You opened your eyes to look at him. "You good?"

There was clear concentration on his flushed face, mixed with something akin to frustration. His dark brows were furrowed with a deep crease etched between them and his ears burned hot with embarrassment.

"Ted? Are-"

"I'll bust if I move." He blurted, voice cracking.

You had to bite back against a laugh, thoroughly amused by his choice of words. How was it possible for Ted to still be adorable during a moment like this?

Ted inhaled deeply, trying to steady the rapid thumping of his heart. "Just - just gimme a sec."

It was incredibly hard to not think about the fact that he was balls deep inside you. The thought alone was enough to have Ted teetering on the edge. Your pussy was warm and wet and tight and unlike anything he'd felt around his dick before. Quite frankly he was amazed he'd even lasted this long.

After what felt like an age, Ted let out a shuddering breath and pulled his hips back slowly before pushing into you again. You sighed, relief and pleasure flowing through your veins as he finally gave you that much needed friction your body craved so desperately.

His large hands gripped your hips tight as he thrusted in and out of you, keeping the pace slow and steady - mostly for his own sake - while his confidence gradually increased with each little pleasured sound that fell from your lips.

"Fuuuuck Ted, that's it," You praised him as he picked up the pace, the two of you becoming lost in your combined pleasure. "That's it, you're fucking me so good - Ah!"

Ted's hips suddenly snapped forwards, slamming the full length of his cock into you and filling your cunt to the brim. Your wet walls throbbed around him as the head hit that wonderful little spot inside you and your fingers gripped at the soft hair on the back of his head.

"Shit, sorry-"

Your mouth swallowed his apology in a hot, open mouthed kiss. Ted was quick to reciprocate, groaning as you nipped and sucked on his bottom lip.

"Do that again."

That was all he needed to hear. The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin bounced off the kitchen walls as Ted pumped his dick in and out of you, the sensitive skin glistening with your slick arousal. He did his best to angle his thrusts so that he was hitting that spot that had you clawing at his back and moaning his name, desperately wanting to make you feel good as he chased his own release.

"God babe - ngh - pussy's so fuckin' tight," One of his hands relinquished the vice grip it had on your hip to slide back under your t-shirt and grab your breast and squeeze. "Feels too good, fuckin' excellent, m'gonna - mmnh - gonna cum soon."

You reached a hand down between your spread legs to rub your swollen clit, aching for attention as that familiar heat began to coil in your abdomen, tighter and tighter as you neared your peak.

"Me too Ted, m'so close - so fucking close-"

The coil inside you snapped.

"Teddy!"

Your body shook and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your orgasm hit you, pleasure coursing through your veins in heavy waves. Ted's thrusts became sloppy while he fucked you through your climax, the feeling of your pussy clenching around him as you came on his cock being too much for him to handle.

"Shit babe, gonna cum-"

With a low, loud groan, Ted pulled out of you and gripped his throbbing length. After a few quick pumps of his fist, he spilled his cum over your skin, coating the soft swell of your lower tummy and the hem of your top in pearly white ropes.

The two of you stayed silent as you caught your breath, chests heaving. You let your legs drop and Ted placed his large hands on your thighs, steadying himself as his own legs threatened to give out from under him as he came down from his high.

Nervous bubbles began to simmer in your stomach as you watched Ted through lidded eyes. How would Ted feel about you now? Would this change things between you? And most importantly: Would he regret it?

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, a small smile tugged at the corners of Ted's kiss-swollen lips.

"Now that," He met your gaze. "was most excellent."

A bright smile broke out across your face and your heart did flips, giddiness shooting right down to the tips of your toes. "Agreed. You feel a bit better now?"

You watched Ted closely as he took a step back and bent down to shimmy his boxers and basketball shorts back up his long legs, before retrieving your own shorts and panties from the kitchen tiles and holding them out to you with a smile that shone with earnestness.

"Definitely."

[0m3n-0f-d3ath]

Otto lives rent free in my mind

I honestly can’t articulate how much I love that image, It makes me so happy 🐟‼️

Dw otto has revived many kisses💥‼️🐟

[noxious-fennec]

It's pomegranate season :)

A redraw of this piece from around a year ago

[kheprriverse]

Ko’jin being a pest in dragon-form is one of my favorite things to think about. And I’m going to share with y’all part of this au-branch and why he’s a total nuisance below.

Everything about this au is completely the same as my main one (the best abbreviation i can give rn for the main one is “COTS”) except at some point near or after the end, Ko’jin offers to ascend Ballad. Theres a lot of events and decision making that spurs this kinda offer, and I promise it makes sense for him. Thats where it splits into the wargod au.

Ballad ends up with a lot of free time over the years adjusting to the new life. It takes a very long time (I’m not exaggerating when i say at least a couple hundred years) where he’s able to fully accept his new role in the world and finally be able to solidify himself as one of the very few deities currently alive. (I can imagine it was very hard for him to make the decision in the first place, knowing how important his family and original life is to him. And that in of itself is a whole other deep dive.)

It becomes kind of routine for him to meet Ko’jin in certain “touchdown points” where the moon serpent is taking time to rest. Ko’jin has had to spend years catching up on so much that he missed since his original falling, the battle against Majora that left him on the edge of death. These touchdown spots serves as a moment of peace for him to rest and regain what energy he had used up and are usually places of interest relating to the moon serpent specifically (shrines and springs primarily).

Eventually though, Ballad caves into an idea Ko’jin offhandedly suggested in the past; “if you want to be so busy you should just start a new ranch in Termina”. Because yk what? He does need to be busy! He misses his animals and he misses working. So why tf not?

I also imagine ko’jin returns home at the most inopportune times; always when Ballad is busy working or napping. Which also makes him out to be somewhat annoying, but what’re you gonna do when a gargantuan dragon god decides its cuddle time? Cuddle with em, obviously.

Basically slow ranch life simulator with two deities who bask in the sun with their farm animals and sometimes get into fights with other giant world-destroying forces. Very normal.

[bloomynmoon]

Frank getting jumped in that one ad- 🦋 🥊

Anyways- spreading the word!! 1 more week to order your makeship Barnaby plush and crispy sweets pins!!

[teruwasright]

Lmao since yall said yes to showing the doll progress I figured I would show you our victim for this project and what I've done so far! ^^

The victim is a Harry Potter Ron doll- I'm using him bc one- he's around the same age as Kou actually in the first movie (were this doll is from) so his body is actually some what accurate and two I thought the face mold would actually be very cute for Kou! ^^

Ok so....um- he's in pieces rn-

I was always planning on removing the molded hair (i have left over hair from Teru i plan on using) so I took that off but I wasn't aware that it would make such a big dent in his forehead- but it's ok we can work with it ^^

And as for why he's in um- half- I wanna try giving him a waist joint! So there's actually a reason lmao and I'm also gonna be making his waist a little smaller too to match the tbhk style a little more- I have his sides cute off rn so ummm....dw I covered Teru's eyes when I did this- (since he sits on my desk were I work)

But this is what I have going on rn lmao trust the process guys I've been doing this for literal years so please bare with me TwT

[hows-itgoagain]

landot as images i found on pinterest: (except i only have 6)

[cmkren]

Light ‘Em Up, Buttercup.

Chishiya Shuntaro x Gn! Reader;

Chishiya always gave you little DIY trinkets, though you were perplexed, you accepted them. Cherished them. Today, you seemed upset. It also happened that today, he finally wanted to tell you how he felt. How he could feel a storm brewing amongst this false paradise that was The Beach, and how he wanted to tell you before he could lose you to this place and its madness. Tell you that he, Chishiya Shuntaro, loved you with all his being.

a/n; no warnings really needed! Some fluff (chishiya’s a real lover boy in this one), awkward chishiya cause that man has no rizz you cant tell me otherwise,,, oh n’ niragi’s mentioned a little, a lil cheesy but bare w me 💔

The first time he gifted you something, it was just about a month into knowing Chishiya. He hadn’t known it then, but about then was where the sparks of a flame were slowly being ignited. A flame that he couldn’t put out, as much as he tried to force it down his stomach.

As much as he tried to smother it with the lid of reality— that this utopia they lived in was nothing but a farce.

All of the Beach’s residents never seemed to realize it, well except for a handful. Most were the executives though, or people Chishiya spoke to directly. Like Kuina. But you, you were one of the exceptions. That’s what he found refreshing about you, someone who didn’t run from reality— as crude as it was. That was what he liked about you.

It was why he liked you.

The first thing he’d given to you was a shiv, a crudely crafted blade that had its own little sheath he, too, created. His background gave him steady hands, it was no hassle to sew together some scrap pieces of leather together to create a hold for the pocket-sized weapon. Sure it wasn’t the best weapon in terms of effectiveness, but he had hoped that someday it would come in handy.

To say that he had a part in your survival, it gave him a sense of security and comfortability. Along with a smidgen of pride.

The idea to give you a shiv had popped into his head when he saw the way Niragi looked at you. He’d just been strolling by, but he saw the way his brow raised in interest, the slight purse of his lips that quirked up into a bit of a smile. No matter what had crossed through his mind at that moment, Chishiya didn’t care.

The fact that you caught Niragi’s eye was all that he needed to feel the frown creep up on his face. Of course, before anyone could give anything a second thought he managed to distract him and his prying eyes.

But both of them weren’t dumb.

Something had happened just there. Something neither men could wrap their heads around— mainly Chishiya. Niragi now knew you were of some importance to the smug bastard, and Chishiya couldn’t figure out why he cared. Him, who only ever cared about himself, doing something out of his way to help someone out. Even though he probably just worsened the chance of guaranteed safety for you.

The day right after that, Chishiya approached you with the same nonchalance he did daily. But today, he pulled something out of his pocket that surprised you.

“For you. Protect yourself, don’t be careless and die here. It’d be a rather pathetic death, dying out here than in a game that was purposefully designed to kill you.” For many, being spoken to like that would probably be off-putting. Maybe a little bit offensive. But you had just let out an airy chuckle, your uncertainty showing through your laugh.

“How charming.” Was what you said, taking the unknown object into the palm of your hand.

Seeing as you seemed a little confused, he piped up again, looking down at the sheathed shiv then at you, “it fits in your pocket— it’s a makeshift blade. I made it. Don’t say I never did anything for you—”

“Thank you.”

He stared at you for a moment, seeing the small smile on your face. It was one that found some amusement in this display of… well, he wasn’t sure what it was. All he knew was that, with the way you looked at him, he felt this fluttering in his stomach. Perhaps he ate something wrong not too long ago.

That must have been… weeks ago now. Every week he came up with something new to gift you. Not all of them were shabby trinkets he created himself, like for example once he gave you a lighter. Where he gets these things, no one knows. But him, of course.

Though as weeks dwindled and passed by, he knew it was only a matter of time before shit hit the fan.

He already had his plan mapped out, the only person he trusted to work in this was Kuina. Why not you? Because for the slightest chance they might fuck up, he didn’t want you caught in the crossfire.

After a hectic day, he found his way to you. Ever since he figured out how to make bombs, he thought, why can’t he make something with the same technology to make you happy? Or at least, to provide a show. He even figured out a way to get them coloured. Of course, he didn’t have enough materials or knowledge to go beyond that but he thought he refined his craft pretty well.

So when he tried to find you, and you weren’t in your usual spots, he felt a pit forming in his stomach.

He didn’t dare call out your name, only searching for you in quiet. Had you finally been taken? Or… did you not come back from a game? Was this Niragi’s doing? Who would be out to get you?—

“Chishiya.”

His head whipped around, pieces of hair briefly flying into his face. He staggered a little, just a bit out of breath from his frantic searching. Right. Here on the roof top, a place he had personally introduced you to. A place where no one knew you could go.

In an attempt to regain his composure, he let out a little cough. “You— why are you up here?” He spoke out, brows furrowing just a little at his own words that sounded a little colder than he meant them to be.

An amused scoff left you, as you approached him, the moonlight and dim lights of the rooftop being the only light source, “I needed the fresh air.” You breathed out, a somber look on your face. At the moment, he figured it out. You must know it too, a mutual understanding you both have.

How this place had reached its due date.

He’d never been the one for distractions. To wallow in your own self pity and pretending that something wasn’t there when it clearly was. But for you, he’d indulge just a little.

“I kept up with my weekly quota, as promised,” a promise he created himself. Out of his pockets, each of his hands pulled out two dynamite looking sticks. Thin enough to be sandwiched between his fingers. “Fireworks, impressive, right?” He spoke with just a bit of smugness to his tone. That wasn’t really a question he needed answering to. Either way, whatever your answer would’ve been it didn’t matter.

The way your eyes lit up as you let out an audible gasp, already fiddling with your pockets for (presumably) your lighter was enough of an answer for him.

“You’re amazing! I mean— first the bombs and now fireworks? What can’t you do? Oh my god, you should totally make me a little robot thing—” as you blabbered, he already made his way to place the fireworks a good distance away from where they’d plan to sit and watch. A little bit of a smile on his face.

When everything got set up, he gestured towards the fireworks. “What are you waiting for? Don’t tell me you’re scare—”

Tsssssss.

A boisterous laugh escaped you as you immediately grabbed him by his arm, having gone out of the way to light them up as he was in the middle of taunting you.

What did this remind him of?

This reminded him of those cheesy romance dramas, the moment where the main characters confessed their love under the fireworks. While he never understood that, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. The happy look in your eye, the way you held his arm, how you reminded him of him just a little but be on an entirely different plane from him as well.

As the first firework set off, he saw how your turned around and he could see the bright light cascade over the glimmer of your eyes. How the light in your eyes shone brighter than any firework he could manufacture.

At that moment, for the first time in his time being in this twisted land, he didn’t think. “I love you.” He whispered out, not even paying attention to the light show as he watched how your expression shifted. How your eyes met his in that moment, the way your expression went from amazement to surprise.

Maybe it was too quick to say something like that. But in this lawless land, what did he gain from holding onto every little thing he wanted to say and do?

Over the loud booming of the fireworks, he tried to speak as much as he could. Saying that he wasn’t entirely sure what he was feeling, or how it even happened, but all he knew was that he fell. Hard. And that he wanted nothing but to see you alive— protect you even though deep down, he knew you were capable on your own.

You couldn’t even hear him. How were you supposed to, with those fireworks? But he still kept speaking. With tears in your eyes, you could only let out a choked laugh as you cupped his face with your hands and pulled him into a kiss.

“Oh shut up, just for once.” You laughed, briefly separating to only pull him back in again.

He could only think about how soft you felt against him, your warm hands creating this sorts of contrast against his cold skin. Was this really love? He didn’t know. But one thing he did know for certain, as he finally planted his hands on your hips;

like those fireworks, you lit up his night sky.

[helielune]

loving you is a good problem to have

(i could get used to this)

[crazywolf828]

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/F

Fandom: RWBY

Relationship: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long

Characters: Blake Belladonna, Yang Xiao Long

Additional Tags: Fluff and Smut, Bathroom Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Airports, Marking, Quickies, they fuck in an airport and Blake almost misses her flight, Short One Shot

Summary:

"Yang it's only going to be a month, we'll see each other soon." Blake says as she walks through the airport, a pouting Yang following close behind.

"That's too long!" Her voice a touch too loud, drawing a few gazes. "I'm going to miss you."

"We're going to talk every night, you know that right?" Blake says with a tilt of her lips, Yang always gets like this when she has to travel for White Fang work.

Though, she'd be lying if she said she didn't hate it just as much.

[brutal-nemesis]

E&T: Deep in the Bowels of Gluttony

I am forcing more CAVE WHUMP into your enclosure (with an added dash of inspiration from my favorite national park that I can never visit ✨)

Suggested Vibe: Duma’s Scourge from Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia (youtube)

←Previous - Masterlist - Next→

Ingredients: a lot of gore. eating is involved in the goriness if you couldn’t tell. it is also very gross. Wow! Oh and there is a little bit of burning

By the time Erebus finished crying, his hand had grown back.

He hadn’t even realized it at first, too caught up with gut-wrenching sobs to be aware of anything else besides how much his head hurt, how hard it was to breathe, how terrified he was to be in this strange place all alone, how he might never make it back home, or even back to his cell, how hopeless he felt, how-how-And then he’d noticed the stump of his left hand, no longer ending in a jagged tear, little strings of skin dangling off of it, but a-it was growing, it had to be, those little white nubs poking out of the mass of muscle had to be the bones of his hand, bones that had definitely been…Before he knew it he was crying in earnest again, his body’s sudden strange capability to repair itself overshadowed by the trauma of the past hour, fear and exhaustion replacing awe and relief, because even if he could heal, it didn’t change the fact that he was stuck here, now saddled with the possibility that not even death could set him free.

If there was one good thing about this world, it was the fact that he was more alone than he’d ever been, and no one knocked on the door to interrupt his crying, no one commented on the redness of his eyes or asked him if he was okay too soon after he’d started to calm down. He caught his breath slowly, peacefully, washing the tears off his face using the fresh water from one of the pools near the sea, scrubbing the dried blood from his perfectly healed arm, revealing a ring of scar tissue around his wrist. The thought that neither of these hands were the ones he was born with almost sent him into another spiral, but he shook his head and put it out of his mind. That was enough for today. 

Today…Frowning, he looked up at the sky. Its blackness hadn’t changed in the slightest since he’d arrived here, and something told him it wouldn’t anytime soon. Even back in the windowless cell, he’d had meals and Neteri’s visits to help him keep track of the passage of time, but now there was just…nothing. It was all down to whatever cycle of waking and sleeping he fell into, and given how tired he was now, he was ready to get that started. 

Walking back to his pack, left at the base of the cliffs, he noticed his leg was no longer in pain, either. Once he arrived, he pulled the knife out and used it to slice the stitches still woven through his flesh, wincing a bit as he pulled the thread out. The holes left behind healed quickly enough that he could ignore them and busy himself finding a good place to lay his bedroll for the…night? For now. 

He ended up settling down along the cliffside, too afraid to lie out in the open despite how quiet it was here, and it wasn’t long before his exhausted body gave in to sleep.

When Erebus woke up, the sky was the same empty black as before, and it was impossible to tell how long he’d slept for, but he felt rested enough despite the circumstances. So now he was just supposed to…wander until he found something? He considered flying to get a better idea of what was around, but he decided it would be better to save his strength for the next fight. Since crossing the sea was out of the question, he headed back into the rocky maze he’d first arrived in. Eventually, he found himself at the entrance to a cave, a gaping hole in the side of the mountain rising even higher than the cliffs around him.

If the demons were tied to elements like their counterparts, the dragons, then whatever one was tied to the element of earth was definitely in that cave. His instincts screamed at him not to go into the dark, cramped space where his wings likely would be more of a hindrance than a help, but if he was going to get out of this place, then he’d have to go in eventually. So best to get it over with while he was here.

Erebus had never been inside of a cave, but he’d heard about how beautiful they could be, and…how dangerous. But he’d be okay. He could heal, for some reason. He’d be fine. He could handle this. He had to.

Burying his doubts, Erebus headed inside the cave, almost immediately tripping over a small, rounded protrusion of stone. They littered the ground, and the ceiling, too, their lengths varying. He’d have to take care to avoid them, then. 

Soon enough, though, the ground began to slope downwards, and the dim gray light streaming in from the cave’s entrance began to fade, not enough for even his new eyes to see with. It wasn’t long before he was stumbling along in the dark, unsure how much progress he was making, or if he was even headed in the right direction. He could be a couple steps away from a dead end, for all he knew. Or even a cl-At that moment, Erebus’s boot caught on a rock, his desperate grasps for something to catch himself on meeting empty air, and now he was falling, spinning, bouncing off the uneven stone, everything was slippery enough to slide out of his grasp but hard enough to break his bones, faster and faster until-

Cold. Deep cold, water, he was underwater, he had to get to the surface, had to find it in this spinning dark void, no way to tell which way is up, which way is death, swimming flailing reaching-his hand broke the surface, and he worked his way up desperately, his sodden clothes and heavy sword making it difficult, but he made it, he breathed, he coughed, he dragged himself out and laid on the bumpy stone next to the water’s edge, panting as his body throbbed and stung with a hundred cuts and bruises. Of course he hurt himself before even finding the demon. Of course. If only he had some way to know if he was even going in the right direction, but no, he was just supposed to stumble around in the dark.

One of his horns hurt, and upon poking at it gently, he found that the tip had broken off, exposing the tender flesh inside. Not like they served any purpose, besides telling him where…wait. What he wanted most was to get out of here and go home. To get out of here, he’d have to fight all the demons. Starting with the one hidden somewhere in this cave. So, by that logic, what he wanted most was to find the demon in these caves. He closed his eyes, not that it changed anything, and drilled that thought into his head. He needed to find that demon. Wanted to. Had to.

Erebus couldn’t help but smile as his horns started to tingle ever-so-slightly. 

It took some time to get used to navigating the cave based on the feeling in his horns. The changes in sensation were rather subtle, so it was difficult to tell immediately after changing course if he was heading the right way. It would have been much easier if he could take a direct path, but the twists and turns of the cave forced him to switch directions constantly, sometimes leading him to dead ends or passages he was too large to squeeze through. Progress was slow, but he was making progress, he was, the tingling was stronger now, his scrapes and bruises from his fall earlier had healed, and his clothes were beginning to dry, despite the cave air being rather cool.

Well, now that he thought about it, the air had grown warmer than when he’d first entered. He’d been so freezing from his wet clothes that he hadn’t realized it until now, but it was definitely getting warmer. That had to be a good thing, right? It wasn’t getting any lighter, unfortunately, so he was still stuck feeling his way along through the darkness, nothing but the tingling sensation in his horns to guide him, but at least he wasn’t shivering as much anymore.

It was getting warmer and warmer, hot now, and humid, the stickiness of the air reminding him of summers back home. Were caves supposed to be this hot? He’d been grateful for the warmth at first, but now he was sweating profusely, the thick, moist air making it somewhat difficult to breathe as he clambered up slopes and squeezed through small gaps, the feeling in his horns growing so intense he was starting to get a headache, made even worse by the slightly rotten smell that was starting to permeate the air.

Erebus stopped at the edge of some sort of drop-off. It was impossible to tell how far down it went, only that it was longer than his arm. He’d been scared of this, of having to fly while blind. Out of breath, he sat to rest for a moment, letting the slight breeze cool him off a tiny bit, wishing it didn’t smell so rancid.

Wait…breeze?

The air was moving, pulsing past him in a hot wave, and then a cooler gust in the opposite direction. It was rhythmic, over and over, back and forth, in and…in and out. 

Breathing. It was breathing.

If-if Erebus could feel its breathing, and the intense heat from its body, its stench, then it must be close, just off that ledge maybe, after all this time wandering around in the dark he’d finally found the next demon. With renewed energy, he stood and drew his sword. He’d have to approach this carefully, making sure he didn’t fly straight into the wall instead of hitting his target. After waving his hand over his head and not feeling anything above him, Erebus carefully took flight. It was difficult to move so slowly in the air, especially as he started to head down, but he didn’t want to risk falling who knows how far and landing on who knows what. 

Feeling his feet catch on something, he tried to land, but the ground beneath was slippery and almost gave way beneath him, causing him to fall for the second time today. Thankfully, he landed on something soft, though it was weirdly wet and sort of slimy, like…Erebus cried out and scurried back, but everything he touched was the same, squishy and warm and smooth and…and…It was flesh. All around him. He-he’d somehow flown into the demon’s mouth, he must have, its breath was rushing by him with even more force now, the nauseating scent of rot all around him. He had to get out. He just had to fly up. He could do this. He’d be fine. 

But…where was his sword?

He’d dropped it in his panic, like an idiot, and now he needed to find it. He wouldn’t stand a chance against the demons without it, and then he’d never be able to go home, never see another person again, he couldn’t accept that, he had to calm down, had to focus. He wanted that sword more than anything. It was his way out.

His stomach sank when his horns told him his sword was below him.

There wasn’t any choice but to fall further into the belly of the beast in order to kill it.

He took his time lowering himself, but it was more difficult than before. The heat was making his head throb, not to mention the toll all this flying was taking on him. Being unable to glide was putting a lot more strain on his wings than he’d realized, and though he couldn’t quite feel it through the sheen of sweat covering his face, he tasted the blood dripping out of his nose. By the time the buzzing in his horns peaked and his hand wrapped around the cool hilt of the sword, the world was starting to spin, and he all but collapsed next to the blade, which had buried itself partway in the fleshy ground. 

Erebus didn’t know if he had the energy to stand. The heat and all of that careful flying had sapped all of his strength, leaving him sprawled on the hot, soft flesh of the demon’s insides. Was this it? Was he just stuck here until he fell further and ended up digested? The healing he had for some reason was slow, probably too slow to keep up with stomach acid. He breathed in deeply as the slightly cooler air coming in rushed past him, trying to calm himself down. The demon’s breaths were deep and long, so they were difficult for Erebus to match perfectly, but he tried anyway, the less rancid-smelling air coming in making him feel a little better somehow. But why would…memories of dust, Neteri’s forehead against his, the puff of her breath against his cheeks. Sharing breath. He was sharing breath with this huge demon, gaining a little of its life force as he did so. 

Once he felt well enough to stand, he did so, holding onto his sword for support. He could do this. After bracing himself as best as he could, he started to pull, wincing at the awful squelching sound the blade made as it slid out of the flesh it was buried in. It came out with a sickening pop, squirting what Erebus could only assume was blood all over him. Some of it even landed in his mouth, and it…it tasted good. Really good, like a rich, meaty stew. 

His empty stomach started to growl.

This was a demon. Not a person.

He hadn’t eaten in over a day.

No one would ever know.

He needed energy.

Hands shaking, he pulled out his knife.

Just a little bit. 

It was warm, wet, chewy, almost rubbery, the texture making him gag slightly, but he didn’t care, not when it tasted this good, buttery and savory, little hints of spice dancing through it, shifting from one flavor to another, and he was powerless to stop, grabbing more and slicing it off, shoving it in his mouth before he’d even finished chewing the last bite, his hands and face slick with that delicious blood, the perfect sauce to go with his meat, the fingers on his right hand had grown claws at some point, and now he was tearing away at the walls with his hand, ripping chunks off with his teeth, continuing to slice and shred long after he’d eaten his fill, even as the ground below started to shake, a guttural roar drowning out the sounds of flesh tearing and blood dripping, the force of it sending Erebus to the ground, snapping him out of whatever trance he’d been in.

What…what had he just done?

How could he be sure there wasn’t anyone else out there in the blackness? 

He could feel the ghosts of his parents watching him, watching their son turn into the monster he looked like. 

He had to get out of here. 

The walls shifted and pulsed as the demon’s breath sped up, roars and moans sounding out so loudly around him it made his head hurt. Its mouth might be closed now, trapping him inside. He’d have to find another way. Or just…make his own.

A large section of one of the walls had already been ravaged, cut and torn away during his frenzied eating, so he resumed work on it, slicing away chunks with his sword now, tossing them to the side instead of bringing them to his mouth. Progress was faster when he could focus, but it was almost impossible to tell how far he’d come, how much he’d carved away, how close he was to breaking through the skin. He came across a more rubbery section and ended up having to almost saw away at it, blood spurting all over him as he went, as if he wasn’t already covered in it. How whole body felt so sticky and sweaty and gross, and all he could think about was washing off somehow after he got out of here.

Blood was flowing out steadily now, coming out with more and more force, and soon enough it was all Erebus could do to hold onto his sword, his anchor buried in the fleshy wall, praying he wouldn’t get swept away by the jet of hot, sticky, delicious-smelling blood. H-he must’ve cut into a major blood vessel. Those shot blood out like crazy, from what he remembered. Maybe this would be enough to kill the demon? Then he’d just be…trapped inside its corpse. For now, it was still very much alive, its roars and moans starting to get louder, more desperate.

All of a sudden, the ground beneath him lurched, and Erebus’s sword slipped out of the cut it was in, sending him tumbling backwards, the river of blood sweeping him away before he could try to stand up, stab the floor, do anything to save himself, but he had to, he couldn’t fall any further down, couldn’t lose the tunnel he’d carved out in this sweltering blackness, couldn’t sink into the sea of blood and digestive acid that was likely waiting for him below, he had to stop somehow, the sword was too long, his wings couldn’t generate lift, nothing to do but desperately scratch at the slippery ground below, dig his claws in, deeper, deeper, deeper, hold on, arm trembling with the effort, he couldn’t afford to let go, to fall, the blood was coming with less force now, the tremors not as frequent, just a little bit longer until…

The great beast fell silent, fell still, its blood merely trickling by now, dripping in imitation of the water in the cave surrounding it. 

Erebus dragged himself to his feet, coughing up blood. He’d tried to keep his mouth closed during the whole ordeal, but some had still made its way in. Was the demon actually dead? It was hard to tell for sure, but he supposed it didn’t matter. He had to get out of here regardless, and any other escape route besides his tunnel was out of the question. Nothing to do but resume work, then, and hope he could get out of here soon.

Time crawled by as Erebus hacked away at the wall, and just when he was starting to think he wasn’t headed towards the surface of this thing’s body, his sword met with a different sort of resistance than before. It wasn’t like the blood vessel, more stretchy and tough, but he was pretty sure he was able to poke through, and soon enough he’d made a gap large enough for him to squeeze through. He didn’t realize how hot it’d been in there until he was sitting outside it, the cave air unbelievably refreshing after being swallowed up by that rancid heat. 

After feeling around a bit, Erebus decided he must be on the demon’s back or something. The slope down was pretty steep, enough that he wasn’t sure he could walk down effectively in the dark. His wings were still exhausted from flying earlier, so…scooting down very carefully it was. For the first time today, he was able to move downwards at a reasonable pace, not having to be careful of random rocks jutting out of the floor or ceiling. He was starting to get a bit excited to leave these caves and be able to see again. The water in the sloth demon’s domain would be perfect for washing all of this blood off of him, and there were few things he loved more than feeling clean. Already, he was starting to realize everything he’d taken for granted in his previous captivity.

He’d taken light for granted, too, and the moment he saw it, the moment he could see at all, he teared up a bit, but that might have just been because it was bright. Navigating the rest of the way down the demon’s body was much easier now that he could see, and it wasn’t long before he was back on solid ground, nearly running towards the cave exit. Finally. 

The dark, starless sky was a welcome sight, almost as beautiful to him as the small pools of water a little ways away. He was lucky this exit dumped him out closer to the water than the entrance he’d originally gone through had been. Curious, Erebus looked down at himself, and couldn’t help but wince in disgust. He was covered from head to toe in blood, most of it dried to a brownish-red, cracking a bit around his joints, little pieces of the demon’s flesh caked on here and there. His hair was sticky and matted with it, and the coppery, still tempting tang of it was all he could smell and taste. He’d never been so revoltingly filthy, and he was secretly glad no one was here to see it. 

It was a quick walk to the nearest pool of water, and while it looked a bit different than the other little pools from before, he paid it no mind. Water was water. He fell to his knees in front of it and stuck his hands in, ready to-HOT! Erebus pulled his hands out of the fiery water, screaming as they burned so intensely he could feel it in his very bones. All he could do was lie on his side and wait for them to heal, tears streaming from his eyes as he wailed. None of the water in the sloth demon’s domain had even been warm, so why was it nearly boiling all of a sudden? Unless he wasn’t…

“You really wanted to make a good first impression on me, didn’t you, intruder?”

Blinking away tears, Erebus looked in the direction of the familiar voice, his blood running cold when he saw who had spoken.

It was Shiori.

Next→

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump

@mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump

@unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles @itallstartedwithharry @inky-whump

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@suspicious-whumping-egg @befuddled-calico-whump @whump-in-the-closet​ @pumpkinsncoffee​ @aryox

[ghcstpyre]

tom ludlow x f!reader x jack traven

cw: jealous!tom, rookie!reader, cis female reader, implied age gap, alcohol consumption, one sided pining (or is it? oooo), nicknames for reader (rookie, kid), slight horniness, SFW.

word count: 3.6k

anon: Do you take requests? If yes, may I request a jealous Tom Ludlow drabble?

a/n: thank you so much for the request! I hope you don't mind that I made this a crossover, I couldn't resist including the other LAPD dreamboat 🤤 I know next to nothing about the way american police systems work so sorry for any mistakes or inaccuracies!

Tom's eyes were glued to you as you chatted away with a young man at the bar, perched daintily atop one of the rickety looking barstools. He was vaguely aware that Captain Briggs to his right was talking to him, something about a lethal cocktail he tried in a seedy bar during his holiday to Europe, but only half of his attention was paid to his colleague.

The bar was fairly crowded with groups of friends engulfing the tables, playing pool and sitting at the bar. The dim lights washed the room in a warm glow, the sound of blues music and laughter filled the space between the bodies and the faint smell of cigarettes could be smelled lightly wafting in from the entrance whenever anyone left or entered.

A few of the officers were out to celebrate the birthday of one of the guys from the bomb squad - Jake or Jace or something like that. Tom never really went out of his way to get friendly with the adrenaline junkies. Since his already weary heart was torn in two by Wander, he hadn't gone out of his way to get friendly with anyone.

Briggs being one of the exceptions of course. The scrawny, smug asshole was the only thing that stood between him and a lifetime of hell behind bars after his blood-soaked hunt for the monster behind Washington’s murder. Turns out that glueing your life back together after it crumbled around you in rapid succession really puts a spin on how you feel about a guy.

The only other exception was you. You, with your sparkling eyes, perfect smile, sunny disposition and pure, uncorrupted sense of justice. 

When the Captain introduced you as Tom's new partner, he wasn't so sure. You were young, fresh from the academy with the same childlike wonder shining in your eyes that he had when he was a rookie himself. He was old and tired and quite frankly he didn't have the patience for training the newbie. But you'd very quickly exceeded his insultingly low expectations, and if Tom was completely honest with himself, the two of you actually made a good team.

You were competent in the field, able to hold your own but also smart enough to know when to seek assistance. You listened to him, but also questioned him when you thought it necessary. Easily the biggest bonus was the fact you didn't mind the piles of paperwork that came after a bust; more than once Tom had been more than happy to slip away to get some real work done while you buried your pretty face into those dreaded stacks of dead tree. You threw yourself into it, much like you did with everything else that came with the job. 

And yet, even after witnessing some of the horrors that came with being a detective, still you shone brightly like a beacon of innocence and hope amongst the jaded and corrupt.

That is why Tom Ludlow began to fall for you. And god he hoped that light didn't burn out like his had done all those years ago.

“...om? Tom? Oi, Ludlow!”

One of Briggs’ boney hands waved in front of Tom's face, drawing the detective's attention away from you. Tom took a sip of his drink - whiskey, neat since he didn't have to try and cover up the stench of booze for once - and turned his head to look at Briggs who looked less than impressed.

“You didn't hear a word I just said, did you?” Briggs deadpanned.

Tom scoffed. “Sure I did. Something about cocktails and your titillating discovery of European prostitutes?”

The captain rolled his beady eyes. “Ha ha. Y'know, I think I prefer Vodka-Tom. He might be a sad sack, but at least he doesn't think himself a comedian.”

Tom barked out a short laugh. “Unfortunately for me there ain't a single version of you I like, James.”

Briggs grinned and the two men clinked their glasses together, enjoying their little bubble of solitude tucked away on a table in the corner while the younger officers joined in with the joyous din of the bar. A small reprieve from his longing for your attention, albeit brief. The Captain eventually excused himself to use the restroom and although Tom had tried to force his gaze to wander over the groups of people scattered around the bar, it always eventually ended up landing on you again. 

The little black dress you wore flattered you in all the right places and the black heels on your feet sent a thrill through his body. Your hair fell over your shoulders, washed and blow-dried to perfection and when he caught the rouge on your lips he swore his heart skipped a beat. He'd only ever seen you during work hours with your hair nearly pulled back, bare faced and donning your uniform. Always professional, always put together.

Tonight he was seeing you in a whole new light. While he was only watching you from afar, Tom could tell that you were a little tipsy and all smiles for the man sat on the barstool next to you. He watched, his jaw clenched as you laughed at something the man said, twirling your straw around in your glass before bringing the thin tube of plastic to your plush red lips to take a sip of your drink.

Tom couldn't get a good look at the man, but he could see that he was tall, broad and sporting a buzzcut and a badge hooked to his belt. Part of the bomb squad, Tom deduced, if his stature was anything to go by. A puff of air left Tom in a quiet huff and he shifted in his seat, sipping from his drink again while he tried to get a better look at you and the man he’d already decided he didn't like.

The detective had only decided to show his face tonight because you'd mentioned you were going. He didn't know how you knew the birthday boy, but he'd be damned if he missed an opportunity to see you and spend time with you outside the precinct. Obviously he'd dragged Briggs along as his plus one; there was no way in hell he was suffering through any sort of bomb squad party without a friend there to kill time with.

Besides, it was an open invitation party which was as good an excuse as any to bump into you.

Mr Buzzcut eventually left to meander his way through the crowd over to the retro jukebox off to the side of the bar, leaving you sitting pretty on that shit barstool by yourself. Tom threw back the rest of his drink, wiped his mouth and decided to talk to you while Buzzcut wasn't hanging around.

As Tom weaved his way through the groups of drunken partygoers, he kept reminding himself that there was nothing wrong with an officer making conversation with his subordinate off duty. He might've been older than you - by quite the margin - but there was nothing out of the ordinary about two coworkers having a casual chat and a drink.

“Rookie.” Tom greeted you gruffly as he stepped up to the bar next to where you were perched.

You turned your head and looked up at him, still having to tilt your head up to meet his gaze despite being sat on a tall barstool. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you immediately sat up straighter upon realising who it was.

“Detective Ludlow! I didn't know you were here.” You half yelled, doing your best to be heard over the din of the bar and not slur your words at the same time. “If I had I would've found you sooner to say hello, Sir.”

Tom huffed in amusement and waved one of his large hands dismissively, his other arm resting atop the bar from his elbow. “Don't worry about it. And we're off duty, no need to be so formal, kid.”

You smiled and he noticed the way the tension in your shoulders began to unwind, no longer sitting straight as an arrow. “Alright then, Tom, what are you doing here?” You asked, angling your body to fully face him and cross one long leg over the other. It took all of Tom's strength to not follow the movement of your leg with his eyes. Hearing you call him by his name did things to him that certainly weren't appropriate for the relationship he had with you. “Didn't think you were that fond of the bomb squad.”

“Oh yeah? What gave it away?” He grinned, a curious eyebrow raised.

You tapped your index finger against your chin in mock thought and cocked your head to the side. “Hmm I don't know, maybe the constant grumbling whenever any of them enter our office? The sarcastic comments? The general hostility?” Your pretty face scrunched into a comical scowl and you puffed out your chest in an attempt to impersonate him. If it was anyone else Tom would tell them to fuck off, but coming from you it was just downright adorable.

The corners of Tom's brown eyes crinkled into crow’s feet  as he smiled and laughed, a deep baritone sound rumbling from his chest. He shifted his stance, inching a little closer to you and leaning his weight onto one hip. You could smell the notes of his cologne drifting towards you and maybe it was because you were a little drunk, but you couldn't help but notice how good he smelled – and how good he looked.

He wasn't wearing anything fancy, just a black t-shirt, dark blue jeans and a pair of brown ankle boots. But his t-shirt was tight enough that it stretched across his broad chest and strained around his thick biceps. The heavy silver buckle on his belt did things to your insides (you'd already seen the way Tom could handle a belt once before and the fire it lit beneath your skin had you wanting to see him do it again) and his denim jeans hugged his long legs in all the right places. The Cuban-esque heels on his boots were the cherry on the cake; he looked absolutely delicious.

You were definitely drunk, you told yourself, because you found yourself wanting to get closer to Tom so you could get a whiff of that cologne at least once more. After sucking up the last of your drink through the straw in your glass you hopped down off the rickety barstool to stand next to Tom.

As your heels touched the wooden floorboards you wobbled drunkenly and stumbled forward, right into Tom. He seemed to anticipate it however, and reacted quick enough to catch you before you face planted right into his chest – not that he would've minded it if you had done. The arm that wasn't resting on the bar wrapped around your waist to hold you firmly against his body while you regained your footing.

“Easy there, rookie.” Tom murmured, his voice a deep, pleasant rumble.

It was the first time you'd been this physically close to eachother in a situation that didn't involve any sort of danger. You felt secure in his strong hold and as you looked up to meet his gaze from beneath your lashes, you couldn't quite place the look on his face. 

You could feel heat rising to your cheeks. Before you could say anything, Tom exhaled and let his arm loosen around you. His hand, however, stayed resting protectively - almost possessively - on your lower back as you took a small step back, still staying close enough to smell his cologne and feel the heat of his body.

“S-sorry,” Though you were apologising your lips still curved up into a smile. “I turn into a clutz when I've had a few.”

Tom returned your smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling once more. “It would seem so. Better be careful or you'll end up clinging to your superior officer all night.”

You could've sworn there was a suggestive tinge to his voice, but you chalked it up to the booze swimming throughout your system. Tom's smile only widened when you didn't blanche or recoil away and instead inched closer to him, close enough that you were practically tucked against his side.

“Oh no,” You faked a swoon, dramatically pressing the back of your hand against your forehead and leaning your full weight against him. “I’d get a big strong man looking after me and you'd get a hot young woman on your arm all night – what a predicament!”

Tom barked out another laugh, the rare sound flooding your chest with warmth.

Big strong man, huh? He thought.

“Jesus kid, you are drunk. Think you've got room for another?” The hand that rested on your lower back slid upwards to curl around your bare shoulder and give it an affectionate squeeze.

It was difficult for him to ignore just how soft your skin felt beneath his rough, calloused hand, and how perfectly you slotted against his side. Tom was already committing the curves of your body to memory.

“Hell yeah I do.” You grinned up at him and he signalled to the bartender with his free hand to order drinks for the two of you.

Once Tom had paid for your drinks you perched yourself on the barstool again with him relinquishing his hold on you and following suit. You scooted your seat closer to him under the guise of wanting to hear him better over the noisy patrons as you chatted and sipped on your booze. If he saw through the lie he said nothing, though you didn't miss the way his pupils dilated, swallowing the warm brown hue of his irises when your ankle rubbed against his leg as you crossed one over the other.

The rest of the bar seemed to fade away, all of your attention on the man in front of you. It was as if all of the voices, laughter and music around you had been turned down to volume 0 and the visuals shifted out of focus until they blurred. You didn't even realise the music change from a bluesy number to ABBA. How had you never noticed how handsome, how charming Tom was before? 

You weren't even sure you could blame it on the beer goggles anymore.

It was someone else's hand on the small of your back that pulled you back to reality. You watched as Tom's eyes narrowed at whoever had interrupted the two of you and for a moment you thought it was some creep trying to cop a feel. But when you turned your head to look at the owner of said hand, you immediately relaxed.

“Jack!” The upbeat notes of ABBA’s ‘Dancing Queen’ finally reached your ears. “Welcome back birthday boy. Did you put this one on?”

Jack flashed you a dazzling grin of pride, seemingly completely unaware of Tom's existence on the stool next to you despite the glare being shot his way. “Hell yeah I did. Do I get the star detective’s seal of approval?”

The sleeves of his loose-fitting faded flannel shirt were rolled up to the elbow, showing off his toned, bronzed forearms and he'd neglected to button up the first two buttons at the top, exposing just enough of his chest to make you want to rip open the rest. His light blue jeans and white sneakers had him sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the blacks and browns of the other patrons.

Your ankle retracted from Tom's leg and you laughed. That sweet sound would've been music to Tom's ears had it been directed at anyone other than that cocky prick. The grip he had on his drink tightened, enough that his knuckles began to turn white.

“Absolutely you do, I love this song!” 

You were all smiles and rosy cheeks for this guy and it was taking all of Tom's willpower not to butt in and put this boy in his place. He'd had a few run-ins with Jack Traven in the past when their cases crossed over and needless to say, the two of them did not get along. Tom respected Jack for his heroics on that bus with the bomb; it was rare to find someone else with the balls and grit to say fuck it to the endless red tape and just get shit done, but that was where his like for Traven began and ended.

“Really?” Tom piped up, casually sipping on his drink, reclaiming your attention and gaining Traven’s. “You like this kinda stuff?”

Tom's gaze dropped to your lips as you playfully rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at him. He knew for a fact he'd be thinking about the cute shade of pink of your tongue while he laid in bed later in the night, trying not to think of you at all.

“Tom, this is Jack from the SWAT team. Jack, this is Tom, my partner in crime. Or law? I guess?” You said, not clocking the obvious tension between the two men either side of you.

The attractive, charming SWAT member who flirted with you whenever he needed to stop by your office, and your hot, older superior officer who smelled amazing and made you think extremely inappropriate thoughts. You just knew you were going to have some very interesting dreams about this later.

“Yeah, we've met.” Jack's voice didn't hold as much charm now that it was directed at Tom and his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. The detective simply nodded in acknowledgement. “How's Briggs doing? You still keeping his desk piled high with paperwork thanks to your…heroics?”

You raised a freshly plucked brow at Jack, then turned to Tom. The older man’s poker face didn't crack, completely unphased by Jack's obvious passive aggression. “How's Annie?”

You could feel Jack's hand on your lower back stiffen.

“You guys were pretty loved up after that train popped up from the ground. Must be an intense kinda girl.” Tom continued, bringing his glass to his lips once again, nonchalant to the core.

Jack removed his hand from you and stood up to his full height. He couldn't have been much shorter than Tom, maybe by a couple of inches. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and while the two men were busy doing their best to be subtle about their peacocking in front of you, you were slurping your drink through your straw and trying to process the possibility of Jack already having a girlfriend.

“We broke up. Thanks for opening up that wound, old man.” 

Old man. Tom grinned and huffed in amusement, knowing he'd hit a nerve. “Ah c'mon champ, the wound can't be that bad. I could've sworn I saw you in here with a different girl not too long ago. Y'know, curly hair? Hoop earrings?”

Jack's thick eyebrows pulled down in a frown and he puffed out his chest beneath his folded arms. “Are you jealous? What's your problem?”

“I just don't want a womaniser like you sniffing around my rookie. So why don't you be a good SWAT hound and sniff somewhere else?” 

Tom spoke in a possessive growl. If you weren't several drinks deep you'd be embarrassed by the heat pooling between your thighs at the detective calling you his. You were about to pipe up and attempt some drunken damage control, but Jack was stepping around you and up to Tom before you could say anything.

The detective slid off his chair to stand to his full height the moment Jack was close enough for the toes of their shoes to touch. He leered over the younger man, eyes narrowed in fury, daring him to try it.

“You wanna say that again old man?” Jack spat, his words dripping from his tongue like venom. “Why’re you acting like some jealous boyfriend over a girl half your age anyway?”

Tom's fists were balled up so tight his knuckles had turned white. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a scene right in front of you – he was older and knew better – but goddamn if he wasn't tempted to clock this insufferable prick right in his jaw to teach him a lesson and shut him the hell up.

“She's your subordinate too, right? Maybe I should pay Briggs a visit, I'm sure he'd love to hear about this little abuse of power.”

“Okay!” You put your now-empty glass down on the bar with a forceful clunk and hopped down from your perch to grab the sleeve of Jack's flannel shirt and pull him back so you could stand between the two peacocking men. Luckily for you, Jack allowed you to move him, the tension building up within his muscles immediately easing off at your touch.

The fact that you'd gone for Jack and not him only riled Tom up further. But, for your sake, he inhaled deeply and let out a long, slow exhale through his nose, forcing himself to simmer down as he watched you turn to the younger man and place those dainty little hands of yours on his chest.

“You, birthday boy, are missing out on Dancing Queen and still owe me a dance, and you–” You removed a hand from Jack to jab a finger into Tom's chest. “--Sir, need to rescue Captain Briggs from that very drunk woman over there.”

Tom's intense gaze flicked down to where your finger lingered on him a little too long, then to your pretty eyes before finally turning around to see that, yup, his friend had been cornered by an extremely inebriated woman on his way out of the bathroom. She was practically hanging off him with her arms around his neck whilst the much skinnier man desperately tried to point out the wedding ring on his boney finger.

Both you and Jack had to do your best not to laugh, stifling your giggles behind your hands as Tom deflated like a balloon in front of your eyes. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” He groaned, his altercation with Traven immediately forgotten as he stomped over to rescue Briggs. Your gaze lingered on the older man as his long legs ate up the space between him and the Captain, leaving you with Jack who was already taking your hand in his and tugging you towards the dancefloor.

With a roll of your eyes you allowed yourself to be dragged away by the handsome young man, despite the urge to follow after Tom like a little lost lamb. Jack held both of your hands as the two of you began to move and sway enthusiastically along to the upbeat tune of ABBA.

When Tom had finally managed to untangle the drunken woman from Briggs without flashing his badge, he couldn't help the way his heart sank in his chest at the sight of you cosied up to Traven on the dancefloor. If he thought about it hard enough he could still feel the curves of your body pressed against his side, all soft and supple and goddamn delicious to the point where he almost ached with the desire to map out those dips and swells with his hands, lips and tongue.

“Let's get outta here.” He grunted, forcing himself to look away from you before the urge to start drinking vodka crept up on him.

“Already? You still owe me a drink.” Briggs complained.

Tom didn't bother replying, already making a beeline for the exit, his eyes focused straight ahead on the squeaky double doors to avoid seeing the way Jack's hands moved to your hips to pull you against him.

What he didn't see was your pretty head turning to watch him leave.

[sleepitawaydear]

cake tastes like loneliness

[nightmun]

Hello Tumblr, been a while huh? I figured I should finally come back here after having been gone for way too long to post some of what I've created over the past several months. There's a LOT though so it'll take a while to get caught up to my present works, plus you'll see a vast range of quality across my next few posts lol (some of them will be a mix of old and newer art so it'll definitely be interesting). I've also moved away from RD stuff a fair bit so my posts will slowly slip away from RD centered things over time, but in the meantime here's a bunch of stupid little RD things I never actually shared on here! I have a ton more with Haniel and my RD gang too so look forward to that!

[marclef]

figured i should post an announcement for this here, seeing as a lot of people follow me for my Pizza Tower stuff heh

just pushed a big update for my Terraria texture pack Pizza Towerria, so if you're looking for a dumb texture pack that just injects as much Pizza Tower content into the game as i'm physically capable of, then feel free to check it out.

there's lots of little friends in there.

(additional friends included within.)

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Morgana AU Pt 7

All three of them fit comfortably in Morgana's chambers, despite offers of rooms for Kara and Gwen as well. But just as the court seems reluctant to let Morgana have free reign, Gwen and Kara are reluctant to give the court free access to Morgana. Even beyond that, after years spent in each other's company, it would feel unnatural to room alone.

One afternoon, while Gwen is having lunch with her brother, Morgana urges Kara to follow her. They make their way unaccosted through the castle-- they have an escort of two guards, but make no move to restrict their movement-- until Kara detects the scent of hay and manure.

The stables.

Kara slips inside the building after Morgana, her eyes adjusting to the change in light just in time to hear Morgana give a slow sigh of relief.

"So you are here still," Morgana murmurs to a gray horse with a mane as wavy as Morgana's own hair. The mare lifts her head at the sound of Morgana's voice, ears pricked forward. "Do you remember me, girl?"

The horse whinnies, and nudges Morgana's chest with her muzzle as soon as her mistress is in reach. Kara slowly moves closer as Morgana strokes the horse's neck.

"This horse is one of the few things I've missed about this place," Morgana confesses in a low voice. "I helped raise her from a filly, when I was a girl."

Kara keeps her hands in her pockets, until Morgana reaches for her wrist and draws her hand to the horse's jowl. The beast accepts her touch readily, though it's clear her attention is primarily fixed on Morgana.

"I'd hoped Arthur would continue caring for her."

"I have," comes a similarly low voice from the stable doors. Arthur strides towards the stall where they stand, with more confidence around Morgana than he's shown thus far. He leans against the wall, watching them both with the horse, features soft yet otherwise inscrutable.

"After a time," he continues, "she was all I had left of you."

Morgana's gaze flashes towards her brother. "Such sentiments hardly befit a king," she says.

"They befit this king."

Something in Arthur's voice changes, and he straightens to his full height-- not to intimidate, but to lend credence, authority to his words.

"I do not intend to rule as our father did, Morgana. I have sworn it to myself and the table."

Kara knows the legend, and can surmise the table of which he speaks. She doesn't know if Morgana knows. Morgana herself gives nothing away, her eyes distant as she continues to pet her horse.

"In that vein," Arthur continues, "I've come to let you know that I've deliberated your judgement."

Morgana's movements still. Kara sees her shoulders stiffen, bracing for the fall.

"Time served."

Morgana's surprise is impossible to hide. Wide eyes flash to Arthur,

"You'll notice Sarrum has left," Arthur explains, "and without his alliance. Before he did, he explained the... history, between the two of you."

Silently, Kara waits for Morgana to react. When she simply continues to stare, Arthur moves on. "I see no reason to repeat cruelty for cruelty's sake."

"Your court can hardly feel comfortable with that decision--"

"It is not the court's decision."

"Then exile--"

"Is that what you want?" Arthur asks. His words cut through Morgana's without malice. In the quiet that follows, he repeats his question. "Is that what you want?"

Morgana turns back to her horse, letting her forehead rest against the mare's jaw.

"No."

---

Arthur has provided them fresh attire the moment they were freed from Sarrum's chains, but after months of scraping together resources, Kara can't bring herself to dispose of their shifts and dresses. And one night, days after the exchange in the stable, Kara sits herself next to the fire to mend the rips and tears that have found a home in their garments.

Across the room in the bedchamber proper, Morgana and Gwen converse softly. At first Kara is content to work with their voices as a hum in the background, and only focuses in when their talk ceases for a heavy moment.

"Arthur says we're welcome here," Gwen says. Her voice is solemn, serious. Kara looks up and finds Gwen's gaze focused on Morgana. "I believe him."

Morgana doesn't say anything, which Kara has learned is a response in itself. Gwen sees it too.

Her features soften, accepting the truth as easily as she always has.

"You don't want to stay here."

For a moment Morgana's gaze is long and distance, before falling askance with heavy lids.

"No."

---

Kara doesn't ask Morgana about her intentions, but it's clear that Gwen and Arthur both itch to know what comes next. Merlin, for his part, only glares from the periphery, looking for all the world as though he would like nothing more than to sear Morgana with a curse.

He doesn't, though-- where Morgana stands tall in her identity, Merlin cowers behind his secrets.

In the end, when Morgana makes her decision, she does so in grand fashion.

"A tract of land??" Arthur repeats, voice echoing across the throne room. He'd called Morgana to open court to force the issue, when the whispers from the courtiers had grown too mistrustful.

Morgana lifts her chin in assent-- her gaze is defiant, and something about it makes Arthur relax, instead of rankle. Kara wonders if she's being treated to a glimpse of who Morgana might have been before Morgause.

"You claim to want a new future," Morgana declares. "Prove it." Exposing Arthur's sentiments to the court is a bold move. Kara holds her breath-- if Arthur denies it to ease the suspicions of the court, he loses Morgana forever.

To his credit, Arthur doesn't seem inclined to take the bait. His lips part to respond, but another voice cuts in.

"She undermines you, your majesty," Merlin warns. "Her intentions--"

"Do not presume to school me on matters of my own family," Arthur responds smoothly. He turns slightly in his chair to stare his advisor down. "I daresay that since my sister has returned to us, you have behaved more suspiciously than she."

"Arthur--"

"Enough, Merlin. I've made my decision," he announces, turning back to face Morgana and the rest of the court. "With some conditions, of course."

"Of course," Morgana echoes with a smirk.

"I choose which tract of land."

"You have one in mind then?"

"Tol, on the edge of the king's forest."

"Crown land?"

"Bequeathed to you, to do with as you please. You would pay no more tax than anyother landowner."

Morgana pauses, taking stock of her brother. "And should I welcome druids?"

At that, shocked whispers rustle throughout the courtroom. Merlin leans in to whisper in Arthur's ear, only to be halted by the king lifting his hand to stay his advance.

"Then as you say-- druids shall be welcome."

Even Morgana seems shocked at that. She has no wit with which to respond, no banter to further their repartee.

Arthur leans forward intently.

"You are the last High Priestess of the old religion," he delivers, voice even and steady. "I would see our peoples become one once more, Morgana."

Morgana stares at him, studying him for any hint of insincerity.

"It has to start somewhere," the king reminds her.

Locking eyes with Arthur, Morgana takes a breath.

"Then let it start here," she returns. Then she smirks. "Your terms are acceptable."

"I have one more," Arthur counters.

Morgana's eyebrows twitch upwards.

"This tract of land, along with anything and anyone on it, shall remain under the protection of the crown."

Morgana's jaw tightens. "I will not have soldiers tramping about--"

"No," Arthur agrees. "But should anyone be foolish enough to make a target of a settlement built by a high priestess-- then they will answer to me."

Kara and the rest of the court wait as Morgana stands in silent regard, weighing her decision in her mind. It will not be easy, what Morgana is planning. But Arthur is offering what he can to pave the way for her.

After another moment, Morgana's head tilts with a wry smile.

"So mote it be."