#how regular starved can i make him? Also Yes.

[mayhemchicken-artblog]

Is this rewrite going to follow the initial "Varney is a Bannerworth ancestor" or the confessional final backstory of divine justice making him a vampire? Also end the way the penny dreadful ended?

It's, ah, not precisely a rewrite of the original--I mean, I am rewriting a bunch of stuff, but that wasn't the point of the exercise. My magnum opus [citation needed] is a queerplatonic Varney/Charles Holland shipfic. There's like six different biting scenes. It ends with time travel. Clarimonde is mentioned.

Varney's precise origins are left purposefully mysterious but I've made him a lot older than either backstory you mentioned, using his "was alive during the time of Edward III" story from the vampire council chapter as an excuse to make him older than the Black Death.

[rainybubbles]

141 coming back to you after a eight months mission

Plus size reader :) !

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC)

G H O S T

-Eight long months, every fiber of his being yearned for a hot shower, his eyes struggled to stay open.

- Yet, it wasn't his shabby apartment that the taxi drove to.

-Simon, buried beneath the Ghost's mask, still held a glimmer of humanity within him, a breath hidden beneath Ghost's blood, death, and violence.

-But on that evening, what he ardently desired was them: their gentleness, their scent, their warmth.

-Like a wild animal slowly tamed by food, he returned to them whenever possible.

-Under the pouring rain, he advanced, hastily thanking the driver, the heavy bags weighing on his shoulders.

-He stepped into the still slumbering pastry shop, and the bell rang.

-And there they appeared.

- Covered in flour, with a pastry cap and apron, they were surprised to find someone there at five in the morning.

-"Simon," they murmured.

-The sound of his name was so sweet, so soothing.

- But he wanted more.

-He wanted them to whisper his name over and over again, filled with desire, until they could only utter it, clouded with pleasure.

-His bags fell to the ground, and his arms enveloped them in an instinctive movement.

- Their hair smelled of sugar and butter, the flour staining their black sweater. Simon wanted more.

-"Y/n"

-" I missed you," they whispered.

-He couldn't bring himself to respond, to admit this longing, but they could sense it.

-His arms didn't let them go.

-"Scone?" they asked.

-"No. "

-"Muffin?"

- "No."

-" Croissant?"

- "You," he finally said.

A silence stretched between them.

-"I have to finish my batch, I open in an hour. Do you think you can wait?"

-No, he couldn't. But reason prevailed, and he nodded.

-"I'll help you," he murmured.

-"You barely know how to fold a dough."

-"I can follow orders."

-"Sorry, soldier."

-Their laughter echoed, and a sense of relief washed over him.

- He wanted to hear that sound again and again.

- In silence, they worked. Simon followed every move, ignoring the pain, stretching each muscle. He was ready for anything.

-When the last batch was ready and the saleswoman arrived, Simon breathed a sigh of relief.

-Y/n gave their final instructions and left.

-Alone on the street, they walked together.

-Like a starving beast, Simon jumped at every crumb of affection, grabbing their hand, his fingers brushing theirs through gloves.

-"We need to talk, don't we?" they finally admitted.

-"Yes," he replied.

- "About what happened before your deployment…"

-The kiss. A hurried kiss, without thought.

- Lips so soft, erasing the bad news of his deployment and eight long months of silence.

-"I… "

-'Don't say you regret it," he finally said.

-"No, I don't. I mean it. But I don't want it to destroy us."

-"It won't."

-"I know you avoid people, Simon. Attachment."

-"Yes."

-But not them, he thought

- Since the moment his feet led him to that pastry shop. Simon knew he was doomed.

- A stupid cake for Soap's nephew, and he found himself charmed by a baker making incredible scones.

-Simon had become a regular there, a man of habit enjoying the good things, he told himself.

- It was close, he said.

-Close to his shabby apartment, to his gym.

-Just a daily stop for coffee and scones, he reasoned.

- But every morning, his eager eyes searched for their silhouette.

-Their rolls, their belly, their thighs, that smile.

- Every crumb he could get, he took.

-They eventually noticed him.

-A mountain of muscles, hidden by a mask, softened by scones, it wasn't the most discreet.

-They greeted him.

-Always the first customer at dawn.

-In reality, Simon came so early out of military habit but also to avoid the saleswoman.

-Simon desired the baker, not the small, slim saleswoman.

-Slowly, they spoke to him, and everything fell into place.

- They had become his anchor, an anchor in reality.

- A tough mission, and he came to them silently, without needing to place an order, without having to face the crowd, slipping to the back and watching them work.

-No questions, just comfort.

-The smell of sugar, flour, and eggs permeated his clothes in the most exquisite way.

-And now he dreamed of a life where this scent would be constant.

-"I don't want us to drift apart," they said.

-"We won't," he assured them.

-"So, what do we do, Simon?"

-"Kiss me."

-It was a prayer, a barely audible order, a cry for help.

-Slowly his mask fell.

- Their eyes met, hesitant but filled with desire.

-And they kissed him.

- In that dark street, under the pouring rain.

-"Again," he murmured.

-"We have to go back," they said.

- "I don't care about going back," he replied.

- "Simon, you don't want to spend your leave sick."

-"If I stay with you, I do."

-"Idiot."

- "For you."

-Their laughter burst out, and Simon kissed them again to capture it.

-Slowly, they finally arrived at their place.

-Their dog welcomed them, barking happily at Simon. And after eight long months, Simon could finally breathe.

-"I'm home," he murmured.

- "We were waiting for you," they replied.

-Nothing surpassed this feeling, he thought as he kissed them again.

-Simon was a man, and like any man, he had finally found his long-desired home in their arms.

__________

P R I C E

-In an emotionally charged atmosphere, Price let the water flow slowly, carrying away the remnants of blood under his nails.

-After eight long months, he felt like a ship drifting without a course, without a real destination.

-At least that's what he claimed to anyone who would listen, but the ring hanging under his uniform whispered different truths to him.

-Staring at his own reflection, Price read the inscription inside the ring, a name he hadn't uttered in years.

- Like enchanted by a spell whose charm he feared, he hesitated to whisper it again.

-Yet, his heart demanded it.

-He knew it was the longing that drove him.

-Without those eight months, he wouldn't be here, longing desperately to have them back in his arms.

-(It was false; since the divorce was signed, he dreamt of them.)

-Since the day their marriage ended, he had wanted to throw himself at their feet and beg them to come back.

- He desired their warmth, their ridiculous work stories, their cooking, their scent, their fingers, their kisses.

-They were the oasis in the desert of his life, and through negligence, he had let them evaporate.

- It all dated back to before his promotion to captain.

- Back then, he was just a young lieutenant full of ambition, willing to sacrifice anything to obtain that coveted title.

-But the long hours at the office had gradually poisoned his time with them, an absence they had signaled to him, one he had ignored, one he had maintained until everything exploded like a grenade.

-Now, he stood there, on the minefield of his emotional life with a ring they had probably forgotten, longing to hear them say yes once again.

-As he dried himself off, Price settled into his office.

-He told himself it was just simple nostalgia, but the bitter taste of tobacco wasn't enough to distract him, remembering how much they hated that smell. He extinguished his cigar.

-To take his mind off things, he decided to go to the nearest bookstore. A good book would be welcome, he thought.

-"John?"

-That voice, which had haunted him for three years and eight long months of divorce.

-"Y/N."

-It had been so long.

-Too long, he thought, seeing them so different.

- He admired their new haircut, their new clothes. What a lucky man he had been.

-"Yes. Still teaching?"

-"Yes. And you, did you manage to become a captain?"

-"Yes."

-The silence stretched, their eyes avoiding his.

-"But it wasn't worth it," he admitted.

-"Too much work?"

-"Not enough of you"

-"John," they interrupted.

-"I'm not trying to get us back together, far from it. I know it won't happen, but I wanted to be honest with you. I think this divorce has been the biggest failure of my life, and you deserved better than me."

-Hesitantly, they opened their mouth, a mouth he had kissed so many times, one that had shared all their troubles, all their doubts.

-"Thank you, John. But I'm also to blame. I should have told you everything that was going on in my head, everything that wasn't right."

-"You couldn't, when all I listened to were orders."

-"Maybe…"

-"Good person, wrong time, it seems."

-"Nothing prevents us from correcting the timing, right?"

-John raised an eyebrow.

-"It doesn't mean we have to start all over, but… you've been a pillar in my life, John. I missed you. Whether as friends or more, it doesn't matter."

-"Thank you, love," John murmured.

-They approached him, and during this long absence, John could finally feel human warmth again.

-To just be John again, not Captain Price.

-Their hands wrapped around each other.

-They both knew it wouldn't be purely platonic, but like a suspended promise, for now, they would stick to it, hoping that one day the rings would find their respective places again.

-Theirs from their drawer to their finger, and his from his neck to his hand.

-"I missed you."

-"You too. Tell me what I've missed."

-And John could only smile.

-If these eight months of hell, these three years of desert led him back to them, then it was worth it, he decided.

- So when he packed for his next return, the soldiers watched him curiously because for once the captain had a home where he really wanted to be.

_________

S O A P

-Immersed in an ocean of turmoil, Soap returned after eight months of absence, longing to celebrate his return with his family.

-His thoughts, drowned in alcohol and his mother's reprimands, were rocked by the cheery laughter of his nephews and nieces.

-Between the urge to scream and the desire to simply savor their presence, he oscillated.

-When the festivities finally came to an end, he could finally breathe.

-Eight months.

- Alone in his flat, memories flooded in, evoking strategies, bombs, deafening tumult, and lingering smells.

-Everything was an attempt at distraction; the television, the rain, a run, a cup of tea, messages on his mobile.

-He longed for something, even if he didn't know exactly what.

-But it was missing, creeping under his skin little by little, scratching at the door of his mind.

-"Again, really?'

-His eyes fell on his neighbour.

-The same one who had endured his screams at three in the morning, his hurried departures on missions, his heavy suitcases dragged at seven in the morning.

- And now, at four o'clock, they stood before him, a mischievous gleam in their eyes, the result of an incident involving dumbbells in his hands.

-"Sorry.", he apologized.

-"I'm starting to think you're doing it on purpose."

-"On purpose…? "He raised an eyebrow.

-"So that we see each other. You know, like in those cliché romances where the noisy neighbour ends up seducin' the complainin' neighbour."

-Incredulous, he couldn't help but laugh.

-"Ye wouldn't need that."

-A teasing smile stretched across his neighbour's lips.

-"I know. But you seem to need it. Not an adventure, but a distraction."

-They referred to the dumbbells.

-"Aye."

-"I make cookies." they said.

-"At 4 a.m.?"

-"I know how to keep myself busy in silence."

-"…"

-"Interested?" they asked.

-The latent feeling under Soap's skin resurfaced.

-He nodded and followed them. And then he realized.

-The warm atmosphere, the decor, the unstacked dishes, the soft carpets.

-That's what he had missed, a heaven of peace.

-"They won't be the best cookies in the world, but they'll do."

-"Ah'm good at it." he said.

-"Pastry chef?"

-"Military."

-"Hm, that explains a lot. "They gave him a complicit look.

-"Like what?" Soap asked.

-"This horrible haircut."

Laughter erupted in the kitchen.

-"Ma haircut is incredible."

-"For a 6-year-old."

-"Ah look handsome with it."

-"Even without it."they said.

-"Good at flirtin'?"he asked.

-"With the right person, yes."

-Soap smiled.

-"Ye would be bonnie with a mohawk."

-"No thanks. But, well, I understand the muscles and the irregular movements now."

-"Aye, Ah don't choose my hours."

-Too bad, you'd think criminals can't be punctual, huh? "they joked.

-He smiled.

-"Exactly."

-Hands in the dough, Soap couldn't help but let his gaze drift over his neighbour's curves.

-He admitted that sometimes his door slammed a little louder in the hope of catching a glimpse of them, like a good luck charm before a mission.

-Curves he longed to explore, letting the eight long months fade from his memory to be replaced by love for them.

-"Ah should hae made more noise if it means havin' cookies."

-His neighbour smiled.

-"Maybe. I was worried about this silence, you know."

Soap felt touched by their concern.

-"Ah'm sorry."

-"Don't apologize, you didn't decide on that. It's just… maybe I could give you my number? If you ever have plants or stuff like that, I'll take care of them."

-"Okay." he acquiesced.

-He took the paper feverishly, keeping it as a precious treasure, and continued cooking.

-At the end of that day, returning home, Soap could finally close his eyes.

-The creeping feeling had come to an end.

-That longing, that emptiness, it was them, the sound of a life together.

-He brushed the paper, a smile on his lips.

-Getting up, he decided to drop a dumbbell loudly.

- A noise at his door rang out, and he smiled. Nothing was worth his neighbour.

-So slowly he opened the door, and dinner followed to apologize.

-Then another to repay.

-And slowly, they erased from his mind the eight long months that had haunted him.

G A Z

-After eight long months of absence, Gaz finally found a moment of respite in his humble accommodation on the base.

-The deafening noises of the base's incessant activity, the hurried faces, the soldiers' rushed departures, everything seemed to dissolve into a chaos filling his ears.

-Everything seemed to fade away as soon as he could cross the threshold of his room.

-Here, in this haven of tranquility, he could finally silence the external turmoil.

-His pulse slightly quickened as he reached for his phone, his fingers instinctively finding his favorite contact: them.

- He felt this visceral need to reassure them, to feel their presence through the voice that was so dear to him.

-In this suspended moment, he longed to hear nothing but their soothing breath, to lose himself in their tender words.

-His ears buzzed, every beep deafening his eardrums and…

-"Hello?"

-"Y/N," he murmured, relieved and tender.

-The echo of their voice provided him with a welcome comfort, a balm for his weary soul.

-"Kyle. Back among us?"

-"Yes, I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you."

-"No, I'm on break. I have a shift tonight."

-A silence stretched.

-"Is everything alright?"

-Kyle hesitated before speaking.

-Is everything alright? The blood, the bruises, the cries, the deaths… Everything seemed to still be on his skin, vivid in his mind.

-"I don't know," he admitted.

-"You didn't break an arm, did you?"

-Kyle smiled at the memory.

-After a rough mission he had rushed to his flat ignoring the pain in his arm and the medics.

-Yet he ended up to E.R days later with a blue arm and broken bone.

-Y/n was one of the nurse who was in charge of him and his cast, they kept contact.

-"No, I don't know how I managed to cope without hearing from you."

-"Charming," they laughed at his attempt at flirting.

-"Maybe."

-"More seriously?"

-"Tired," he admitted.

-"I would tell you to sleep, but I imagine you don't want to."

-"I can't."

-Not when he knew the nightmares awaiting him.

-"…I finish at 1am, if ever. I'm not implying anything, I know your base is super far, but I know that company can help."

-"Hmm, I don't know, will there be food?"

-"My company isn't enough for you, Kyle?" they joked.

-"I fear not."

-"Damn," they exclaimed, laughing.

-Ah, there it was.

-A tender smile stretched across Gaz's lips.

- In this exchange, he found comfort, a precious connection.

-His body relaxed slightly.

-"I missed you," they confessed.

-"You too."

-"You know, I bought those awful biscuits you talked about so much, hoping you'd come eat them at my place."

-"I'll take it as a declaration at this rate."

-"Shut up, I know you'd never buy them because 'no time'."

-"I like speed."

-"Even in bed?"

-A mischievous smile formed on his lips.

-"That's for you to find out."

-"You always say that."

-"I mean it."

-"About?"

-"Us."

-"Kyle…"

-"I know, after eight months of absence, it might just be the longing speaking, but… the only thing I wanted was you. Coming back to you, holding you in my arms, making you laugh one last time. And… staying friends… it's worse."

-"Worse than eight months without me?" -"Yes."

-"You're horrible for doing this."

-"I know."

-"At a distance, over the phone. I can't… I can't guess anything."

-"I guess I'm a coward."

-"Shut up, I… I swear I'm going to hit you and then kiss you."

-"Kiss me?"

-"Of course, do you really think I answer all your calls at any time out of friendship?"

-"Y/N…"

-"Last time there was an eight-hour time difference."

-"You told me…"

-"That there were only two, yes, because… I didn't want you to worry. You're a stubborn idiot always thinking of others, so I wanted to be selfish for once that you are."

-"I am. I want you, Y/n."

-"Then come get me."

-Kyle smiled and hung up.

- In his car, stress, fear, adrenaline surged. But for once, the enemy wasn't to be fought.

-Once in front of the hospital, hours of driving later, he stood at the entrance and saw them come out.

-Their name spoken from their lips, and he embraced them.

-"Never again," they whispered.

-"I can't promise anything, but I'll try."

-"I swear I'll kick Price's ass if he does that again."

-"I'll help you."

-"Promise?"

-"Promise."

-And he kissed them.

-Suddenly the eight long months evaporated on Y/n's couch, his fingers sliding through their hair, and his lips on theirs.

-The silence returned and Kyle could finally breathe.

If you want more : my masterlist

[auspicioustidings]

The Revelation

Summary: You are pretty happy with the cult you have made for yourself, but when two newcomers show up you can't help but think how far you could go with this.

(this is a one-shot, I stg if your only comment on this is to say 'part 2' I will feed you to the tomato plants! If you like it and have brain worms about it by all means send those to me and we can bounce ideas around)

Words: 6.6k

CWs: Cult shit, dubcon (everyone is manipulating each other here), light petplay (hope you're proud of yourself Bo I am incapable of writing Ghoap without Johnny being a puppy now), smut, murder, slight allusion to cannibalism (in a round about way, just putting it here for safety), Catholicism

The Death of God happened on a gloomy Thursday afternoon. One moment he had been mowing the lawn and the next thing he had an epiphany about hating his suburban life, hating his suburban wife, hating the 2 kids and hating the lawnmower he had spent his last bonus on. 

The Revelation happened on a sunny Friday morning when you had popped up on his tiktok feed and told him that you understood him, that you were there for him. He had made his way to the commune, telling his wife it was just a visit to find himself. And he did. Which of course meant he never came home.

Truly you would consider yourself some what of a miracle working taking in this portly, charisma void of a businessman and turning him into some semblance of interesting. Well as interesting as anyone in this little slice of heaven. He had a fascination with growing tomatoes now. Good for him. 

The hundreds of little deaths of God had been great for business. When someone had a crisis, when someone thought they were broken, when someone just couldn't fucking take it anymore, that's when they were so desperate to believe in something that you could make them happy with a smile and a kind word every so often. You could keep them happy (well, what they believed was happy and wasn't that all that mattered?) by keeping them a little tired, a little hungry and occasionally a little high. Good for the soul really, that's what you always said. 

Surely you deserved to live on a steady diet of champagne, strawberries and decadence for all the good work you did. They all understood how difficult it was to be you. And despite your trials weren't you still so lovely to them? Even when they acted out you were gentle in your reminders that they needed fixing, that you were only ever there to help, that their friends and families would try and convince them otherwise because they didn't understand what it was to be broken. You opened your arms to them always, it was in their nature to err and in yours to forgive. 

Honestly you could keep this up for the rest of your life. A small group of people devoted to you, happy in their worship and happy in their toil. No violence needed to keep them compliant, just a soft touch and the occasional psychological torture as necessary. You had no aspirations to go beyond this, you had it good. No need for a death cult or to make yourself an actual God to them. You already had your champagne and strawberries after all, life was good. 

–

They were big, these two new men to your little oasis. It would be a tricky thing to half starve them you thought, but then it would also be a shame to have them lose all that bulk that you found you quite enjoyed looking at. Still, it was important for enlightenment and all that.

So you gave them a steady supply of soft smiles and reassuring touches, a diet of “yes this is an eco-living commune!” and “oh I never thought anyone would want to join me out here, I just got very lucky that so many wonderful people share the same morals.” They went easy of course, ex-military, used to structure and relying on someone above them to do the thinking. Perfect for you really, just two attack dogs that were impeccably trained.

They neglected to tell you that they hadn't been regular military, that they had been high ranked special operators in an elite task force. That would have made you suspicious after all and it was better you thought them stupid. Johnny had seen you on tiktok and wanted you and Simon never denied his boy anything, so here they were, playing you completely into their hands.

First it was getting themselves special privileges, unlimited access to food, a home right next to yours, full evenings of rest. Hadn't been hard to make you think it was your idea.

“Och it's alright lass, I ken we're naw military anymore. Dinnae need tae be a lean, mean, killing machine oot here.”

“Of course not Johnny, I'd hope you think you're very safe here.”

“Aye, feel safe with you. Ye look after us. Wish ye would let us look after you more!”

“I don't need anymore than I already have, but it's so wonderful of you to say, truly.”

Then a few days later when there had been time for that little declaration to settle in.

“Simon! How are you, I didn't see you yesterday.”

“Sorry, pulled my shoulder something awful. Felt like a right git not being able to do work properly.”

“Oh that's terrible, how did you pull it?”

“Ah just lack of training is all. Too used to being strong, retirement doesn't really lend itself to that.”

“You're still plenty strong!”

“I hope so. Some of the things I hear about what people's families think of you… if it ever came down to it, I want you to know I'd protect you with my life. Both me and Johnny would, strong or not.”

You had really been given an absolute gift here. That was something that had been making you a little paranoid. If family members escalated to violence there was really nothing you could do. You were a lover (here meaning awful con artist but that was just semantics) not a fighter. And now there was a solution right in your lap.

“How would you and Johnny feel about being security then? I'd hate to think we'd ever need it of course, but it would make people feel safer. Some of their families are terrible people I'm afraid, I don't want anyone to get hurt because someone tries something violent” you said gently, of course concerned for these innocent people being viciously abused by their awful families (these brainwashed people being taken by their loved ones to recover and live meaningful lives again, lives which did not involved maintaining your champagne and strawberry habit).

“If you ask us of course we'd never say no, it's just… would it be ok to have an hour a day to train? It's such an honour to protect this place, not looking to half arse it.”

“Of course! Come to my house with Johnny after supper and we can discuss some accommodations for your new roles.”

–

“How does that sound?” you asked, soft as silk.

You knew how it sounded, it sounded like you were the damn second coming. Giving them unrestricted food and sleep, telling them you'd have a house for them built right by your side? You knew it was working by how Johnny's eyes had went big and wet, projecting puppy-like adoration. And Simon? Oh that big, delicious man stood and walked over to you so he could kneel at your feet. Fuck you had never felt better about yourself.

“We don't deserve so much of your consideration. I-” he said, the first time you had heard him struggle to get words out through his emotion. “I want to thank you properly.”

He said it like it was a revelation and it peaked your interest. You could have squealed with delight when his cheek leant against your knee, your dress pushed by his face to let skin meet skin, eyes locked with yours as he turned to kiss your flesh. You hadn't fucked any of your followers, too messy. But these weren't regular followers anymore right? No, these were special followers. And it had been so long and he was looking at you like he was desperate to give you any pleasure he could. 

Oh Simon was desperate all right, had been thinking about getting you sloppy and pathetic for him since Johnny had excitedly shown him that bloody video of you acting like an innocent little lamb. He wanted to just barrel in, bend you over and claim you right away. It was Johnny who insisted it would be more fun to trick you, who had whined like a bitch about it until he got his way. Bloody MacTavish. He really needed to train those puppy dog eyes right out of the boy. Those had got him to indulge in all sort of risks already. Nearly fucked the whole plan right up when you had come dangerously close to catching him balls deep in Johnny in your bed, absolutely ruining him as per his own puppy dog eyed request.

For his part Johnny was positively giddy. He might give away the game if he really got to watch Simon taste you. Would he play gently with you? Oh my God would he pretend he was inexperienced to make you feel superior? Let you think you were guiding him? That might kill him dead. He tried to not fucking salivate and start panting at the thought of it. 

“Then thank me properly.”

Fuck the way his eyes lit up at that. This gorgeous man wanted you, he wanted to please you. As a hand squeezed your calf and he started to drag his mouth up your bare leg you felt the sick thrill of wondering how far they would go for you. Already people had given up families, friends, wealth. You had never pushed it beyond, horrified whenever you thought about how delicious it would be if they would die for you, kill for you and so shoving those dark thoughts to the back of your mind. 

But you didn't want Simon to die for you. You did want to see how far you could push, how deep his devotion ran. To that end you wove fingers through his hair and pulled him off of your thigh, his eyes flickering from your wet panties sticking to your cunt up to your own eyes in question. 

“I want you to kiss Johnny.”

You said it like a woman possessed. Fuck. That's exactly what you wanted. You wanted these big masculine men to fuck against their own desires but do it for you. They were dumb jocks really, probably had never fumbled around with another man before. They'd find it hard, find it wrong. You didn't really consider yourself a bad person before this moment, just a clever one. This was straying into something else, some monstrous part of you that was salivating with the thought of finally being released. 

“Will you do that for me?”

You heard a choked sort of noise and looked over to see Johnny hiding his face in his hands. Of course, big Scottish man must be scared of doing such a thing. Or rather having such a thing done to him. You imagined it would be some attack to his sense of self to have a bigger man press a kiss onto him. Fuck maybe he would tear up. Maybe he would fully cry if Simon pushed inside of him. You hoped that God really was dead because if not you were sure They'd have some stern words for you after this. 

“Oh I've never…”

Fuuuuuck. Simon's vulnerable eyes darting from Johnny to you were liable to make you cum on the fucking spot. You smiled indulgently down on him, running a hand over his face is a caress. 

“You know I only ever do what's best for you don't you? I wouldn't ever ask you to do anything that isn't for the greater good. Do you believe in me Simon?” you said, the years of practice infusing your tone with a cloying sweetness. 

“Yes” he replied, barely a breathy whisper of affirmation. 

His glazed eyes looked at you with such adoration before he nuzzled his face into your hand and left a kiss there before making his way across to where Johnny was sitting on the sofa, face still hidden in his hands. He went over on his knees, crawled. You pressed your fingers against your throbbing clit, cupping yourself to try and tell your body to calm down because there was so much more to come. 

Simon crawled between Johnny’s legs, going up on his knees and grabbing Johnny’s nape to drag his face down. He was whispering something in his ear, maybe trying to settle him, trying to assure him this was what they needed to do for you. Of course had you been aware Simon was hissing at Johnny to keep it together, to stop laughing about how easily you were falling for this, then the whole thing would really have been ruined. Luckily Johnny was still a soldier, Simon still his LT, so when he was ordered to put his game face on he did it. And luckily Johnny was still a good boy, Simon was still his master, so he knew that squeezing at his pup's nape always got that furrow in his brow to relax, got him eager to please and ready to tear up at the first little tease or overstimulation.  

It was really destiny that you would be this level of power hungry, this eager to push and see what you could make people do. He had been training Johnny to put all his eager to please energy to good use for years, had turned a feral mutt into a feral mutt with impeccable training. The chance to turn a corrupt fox into a corrupt fox whose only desire was to be stroked and pampered was making him painfully hard. Johnny had been right, tricking you was far more delicious than just forcing you into it.  

When he moved Johnny’s hands from his face it was to reveal a man looking ruined, looking liquid eyed and flushed. Simon mouthed a good boy to him before pressing a kiss to his lips. It was calculatedly shy and tentative and he kept a steadying hand on Johnny’s knee, squeezing when he felt he might lose control and start panting and licking his way into his mouth as he usually tried to do. Simon couldn’t very well punish him right now without giving the game away, so he just had to use the suggestion of a future punishment. 

After the first peck you watched a slow and decadent slide into forbidden desire. They got a little bolder with each press of lips, seemed to squirm a bit more with the struggle of it feeling good but wrong. When Simon pulled away and Johnny whined despite himself you slid your hand past your waistband, needing to touch yourself or you’d die. 

“You’d like it if Simon used his tongue wouldn’t you Johnny? Would be nice to feel it against yours. It’s important that you two are close isn’t it? To do your jobs well that is.”

Johnny would have agreed with full enthusiasm and pounced Simon to get them both on the floor so he could rut his hips down into the cock he was desperate for, but the hand at his bad knee squeezed again and the spark of pain reminded him of the mission. So instead he looked at you, teary and unsure.

“H-his tongue? I… I’m naw…”

“You’re not what Johnny?”

“It’s wrong.”

“Who told you that?”

You watched him play with the thin chain around his neck, the crucifix falling out of his shirt. Catholic. Oh this must be even more torturous for him. No matter, you had killed plenty of Gods already, you could kill his. Watch guilt eat and eat and eat at him until finally he gave in to the desire. Gave in to you. Let any other divine figure die in favour of a new God.

“Oh Johnny, do you think I would lead you into temptation? It’s ok, I would never make you. If you don’t like it that’s fine, you can both call it a night hm? Security is a tough job, I would never think less of you for not being up to the task. My fault really, I must have mistaken the potential I saw in you.”

He surged forward and shoved his tongue past Simon’s teeth and you moaned deeply, fingers so slippery that getting proper friction on your clit was a challenge now. You did not think you had ever been so wet in your life, feeling slick trickle out of you as they clumsily seemed to fight for dominance, saliva dripping down Johnny’s chin from how much he was trying to follow your instructions, how deep he was trying to pull Simon’s tongue with his into his mouth. 

When they next pulled away they both seemed dazed, like they couldn't believe they had just done that. Poor Simon turned to look at your pleadingly, legs widening so you could see he was straining against his pants. He was rock solid from making out with Johnny and you were cumming all at once, hips rolling in time with your fingers as you breathed out instructions with your cunt still clenching in waves.

“Good, so good for me. Want you both to cum, get all of that tension out. Wouldn't ever leave you wanting would I?”

They both looked needy, but the fact that they quietly waited for instructions on how to cum was possibly the most erotic thing you had ever seen. 

“It's OK, you can help each other. That's what it's all about here isn't it? Helping those in need in the community, and you're both in need. Jerk your cocks together, it'll be bonding for you to cum together like that.”

They fucking did it. Simon shoved his pants down enough to free the absolute monster of a cock he had and dragged Johnny only his lap on the floor. Johnny's cock was thick as anything and just as hard. Fuck the image of Johnny taking Simon’s cock, taking every hard inch of him in his ass. Crying about how it wouldn't fit, how it was wrong. Clutching his crucifix. You needed to make it happen soon. Maybe you could make Johnny wear a plug, say it was part of training. Get him ready to be fucked by his friend and once superior without him ever realising that's what you were doing. 

Their precum was already making the slide of it easier as Simon took the lead, big hand wrapping around both of them and slowly pumping, staring at it in fascination. You were slowly overstimulating your clit, feeling that tension start growing again already. 

“Spit on it Johnny.”

He did it without hesitation, his saliva making Simon’s jerking squelch. It didn't take long until Johnny was begging, needing to cum. You didn't even register that it wasn't you he was looking at as he begged, you were too lost in sensation, eyes locked on their cocks rubbing together.

“Go on, cum. Both of you.”

Simon sped his hand and his low grunt (the ‘s’ok pup, cum’ so low you hadn’t heard it over your pleasure) combined with Johnny's drooling and panting sent you spiralling over the edge again as they both shot ropes of sticky cum all over each other.  

Fuck. What else could you make people do?

–

Over the next few weeks life got even easier for you. Simon and Johnny were excellent right hands, earning respect from all of your followers and taking on almost all of the tasks you had (which you had made sure were as minimal as possible already, the whole point of this endeavour was to live an easy life). 

Simon was careful to make sure to be seen with you, start planting the seeds in people's minds that they were an extension of you. Johnny was rapidly losing patience which made him incredibly satisfying to fuck because he got to beat every single complaint out of him. It was him that wanted to go this route so he was going to finish what he started. It had been a long time since he had seen Johnny get so worked up over anything and he forgot how much he enjoyed him when he was like this, biting at every little bit of bait that Simon left with the express purpose of having an excuse to punish him later for it. 

Johnny needed putting down when he got this wound up, at this point Simon had taken him over his knee at least once a day, collared and leashed him most nights, fucked him silly so much that he was constantly aching and plugged to keep ready for a quickie when he needed it. Which right now was inhumanly often and with them still in the bunkhouse they were having to get very creative with the venue. Johnny was going especially feral given that you had only been alone with them once more since you had promoted them and you had acted like last time had never happened. Clever actually, Simon had to hand it to you, you were very good at playing with people. He could see the little glimmer in your eye, the delight at seeing how Johnny seemed to be vibrating with anticipation of something that never came. You were setting him up to beg, making sure that when he gave in and went directly against his God that it would be him pleading for you to let him do so.

It wasn’t like you had ever been close enough to tell, but that little cross around Johnny’s neck had SR carved into the back of it. Simon had corrupted the Roman Catholic out of this pup years ago, the cross only came out on special occasions when Johnny wanted to play coy and innocent or when Simon wanted to remind him who he belonged to (because it certainly wasn’t a God, it was his fucking lieutenant). Well and now, when they both knew the sight of it would give you such a power trip that you’d fall right into their trap. 

“I was thinking about your house” you said, the three of you standing where the foundations were already being put down. 

“Aye?”

“It just seems such a waste when I have extra bedrooms in my home.”

“It would be such an honour to stay in any of them. Would we not be intruding?”

“Of course not Simon, you are my right hand men now. It makes sense for you to stay close to me. To one another.”

You swore you could see Johnny’s ears perk up, a phantom tail flicking quickly behind him in rapt attention at that. Of course their minds would go there, just like you wanted them to. It hadn’t been too difficult for you to be patient, to play with them so that you didn’t push too far too fast. It was something you were very good at. 

“Would you… still let us build something here?”

“Oh?”

“I think a temple of sorts would be nice. Somewhere for you to relax. You work so hard for all of us and if you are taking us into your space I’d hate for you to have nowhere to go to meditate alone.”

It only took a few days to wear you down. You had no idea how much influence they already had with your followers, how easy it was for them to plant that idea there and have them be the ones appealing to you to please allow them to do this for you. And while that shred of morality you had left was screaming at you not to do this, not to actually Deify yourself lest it go too far, the adoration inflated your ego and drowned your conscience out. 

So they started to build your temple.

–

“Ah! Like that. That’s it, that’s what I need” you moaned out, Simon in between your legs worshipping. 

You had moved them into your home, the large house comfortable and spacious in comparison to the bunkhouse the other followers stayed in, and that night Simon had come to your room and gotten on his knees for you. How could you say no to him? 

The adoration of your followers was nothing compared to this. They loved you yes, but fuck Simon was reverant, tongue swirling around your cunt so there was more holy water for him to glut himself on. This was decadent, languid on your bed with him focusing entirely on your pleasure, expecting nothing in return. This man who was spending his days by your side, overlooking the building of a temple in your honour. You could not decide in this moment if you wanted him to fuck you on the altar when it was done or if you wanted to fuck him. 

It was a good conundrum to have because you felt that you could simply have both. You could have whatever the fuck you wanted with this man by your side. Who could stand against him and Johnny? And who would ever worship you more? You had never actually bought your own bullshit before, but if he kept this up maybe you were some sort of God because how else could you be living this deliciously?

You tugged his hair sharply to get him off of you and pushed at him until he was on his back. You would take what you wanted from him because it was your right to do so. He did not complain as you settled your cunt on his face and rode him, if anything his clever tongue worked harder to please you. You held his head and used him, and he drank you down and thanked you for the privilege after, vanishing out of your room as silently as he had arrived.

–

It only took another few weeks for Johnny to break and oh he broke so perfectly. Simon came to your room every night to pray, and Johnny must know, must have heard how Simon spilled thank yous against your cunt even as you pushed down to deprive him of oxygen, even as you smeared your slick all over his face, moving exactly as you liked with no consideration of him. You never touched him in any way meant for his pleasure, only to use him for yours.

It was not Simon who knocked lightly on the door. Simon didn’t knock at all, he always just let himself in. 

“Come in Johnny.”

He was nervous, that much was clear. You did enjoy the sight of him in only his boxers and crucifix, moonlight doing wonders in making him look incredibly edible. You wanted to knead his pecs like they were tits, wanted to sink your teeth into the meat of his neck until you tasted blood and he cried out your name instead of his God’s.

“I want…”

“Hm? You want?”

“Will ye let me please ye? I ken Si… I’m naw good enough for ye, but I want tae be. It’s just, I’ve never uh… I’m a quick study.”

And with perfect timing, in walked Simon. Couldn’t have planned it better yourself (well, actually Johnny had planned it, Simon had laughed and ruffled his hair at how eager he had been to act the part of the blushing virgin before unhooking the leash and getting him out of his collar and into his crucifix).

“Good evening Simon” you purred. 

The man didn’t really acknowledge that Johnny was in the room, instead going to his place by the foot of your bed and kneeling. It was always where you started, with him lapping at you until you ordered him onto the bed or the floor so you could take what you needed. Only you pushed him away with your foot when he tried to pull at your shorts, holding him at leg length and looking at Johnny.

“Come sit will you?”

He nervously shuffled over, sitting next to you on the bed with his eyes darting uncomfortably down to Simon kneeling pretty, your foot still holding him away from you. He swallowed and you thought it sweet how he held your gaze to avoid watching as you motioned for Simon to move and he did so without hesitation. Johnny still didn’t look at him even as you put a hand to his knee to make him spread his legs enough for Simon’s broad shoulders to fit between them. 

“If you want to learn I’d never stop you Johnny, I want you to be the best at the things you’d like. And I’m sure Simon makes a wonderful teacher.”

Simon didn’t need prompting, obedient and perfect boy that he was. He started licking up Johnny’s thick thigh the same way he would have if you were sitting there. Johnny, bless him, gripped onto your leg like it was a lifeline, fingers digging into the plush flesh hard enough that you imagined it may leave marks. You swallowed his loud whine with your mouth when Simon slipped his boxers down and took his hard cock right to the root. It almost made you laugh, if you tried to take that in your throat you would certainly be gagging and crying.

When you pulled away Johnny was a whining mess, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other still dug into the fat of your thigh. You wondered if he had ever gotten head. Certainly not from another man. Oh wouldn’t his priest be so disappointed in him. You could imagine a severe man in the robes of God, looking with disgust at the whore before him. But you were a kinder creature, letting him indulge in pleasure without telling him he couldn’t. 

Well, to a point. You pushed Simon to stop with the frankly immaculate looking blow job when it was clear from Johnny’s hips rutting that he was close. Then you swung your leg around, straddling Johnny and squeezing yourself to him, stopping him from trying to get friction from you.

“Not yet Johnny, you need to be patient hm? Simon, open him up. Tongue first, then fingers.”

Johnny was tearing up, looking at you like he didn’t understand why you were doing this while feeling horribly guilty that he liked it. He howled when Simon’s tongue started playing at his rim, his hands gripping at your hips to try and make you move against him. You put a hand to his throat and squeezed lightly.

“It’s ok, you can take it can’t you?”

“I-I cannae, please bonnie, I’m naw- I dinnae-” he whined before he choked on nothing, eyes blown wide, “h-his tongue is, fuck it’s inside.”

“I know Johnny, I know. Is it too much then? Should I tell him to stop? If you can’t take it, then at least you tried” you said, sweet as anything but putting a tiny edge of disappointment into your tone.

“I can take it! Please, I can! Dinnae make him stop, I can take whatever ye gie me!”

“Good boy.”

Oh, the reaction to those two words was worth exploring. It was like he changed from a man to some pathetic animal, eyes watery and begging, hands pawing at your hips while his own desperately tried to buck up. You felt how he froze, heard how he choked when Simon pressed a finger into him.

“Hmm that’s it, take what you’re given, you’ll be good and hold off for me hm?” you cooed, moving a hand to run fingers under his chain, all the way around until you were behind his neck and could yank, have that crucifix choking him. “Looks better like this Johnny, almost like a pretty collar for you.”

Jackpot. Even with you clamping down to give him as little room for friction as possible you felt the hot gush of his cum, him getting there from being choked, being compared to a dog to be collared. Well if he was going to be a mutt that came without your permission, the permission of his master, then he needed to learn his place no?

“Fuck pet, told you to be patient.”

“Sorry, m’sorry bonnie. Ah! M-make him stop, s’too much!”

“Make him stop? But he’s been good for me, followed everything I’ve asked, You went ahead and finished without permission. Wouldn’t make sense to punish him and reward you, I need to be fair pet.”

He was clearly overstimulated, his hips trying to rut even as he gasped at every bit of friction he got. Oh you wanted to see him fucked out and ruined. You wanted his heart on a fucking platter.

“More Simon. Johnny here is going to let you fuck him tonight, so you need to open him up properly.”

“I-I-” Johnny stuttered, bottom lip quivering and eyes wide and wet. If you weren't so high on the decadence of having these two men at your mercy you’d have questioned just how practised that was. 

“Tell me Johnny. Tell me what it is you want.”

Tell me what it is I want to hear that you want. Be a good boy, don’t disappoint me. You’d hate to disappoint me after all I’ve done for you.

“I want Simon tae fuck me tonight.”

“Good boy” you said, hammering that final nail in God’s coffin as you yanked again at the chain so hard it snapped, taking your trophy and tossing it onto your desk without ever having examined it closely.

You watched Simon ruin him at your command. You drank their praise like champagne, bit into their gratitude like strawberries bursting their juice on your chin. You were greedy in how many times you used them for your pleasure, their fingers, their tongues, the sight of them overcome with hedonistic abandon. 

You felt like a God.

–

The temple was beautiful, no effort or expense spared. The first floor was a space for everyone, for the brand new community gatherings that you occasionally led but had mostly been letting Simon and Johnny lead. Above that was two glorious floors of space only for you. The only other people permitted to set foot in here were your two right hands. It was something else, being in the luxuriant bed drinking champagne and watching the two of them play with each other for your benefit. 

You could not stop thinking about the way Johnny had writhed at the mention of a collar when you had taken his crucifix for yourself (it still sat on the desk right where you had left it). You could not stop imagining how such a thing would look around his thick neck, how your other followers would look at it and be jealous that he got to be so visibly claimed by you.

As always your wish was their command. Simon had presented you with a gorgeous necklace of sorts, almost a choker, the pendant a symbol you didn’t recognise. 

“This doesn’t look like a collar for you.”

“It’s for you. The symbol is from the cult of Venus, we thought… well we thought if you could wear it, show people, then when we wore it…”

“You want them to know you are wearing it for me.”

Perfect fucking boys weren’t they. They didn’t just want to show up in a collar, they wanted to show up in a symbol associated with you. It was pretty enough what they had chosen, delicate and clearly made with care and devotion. You turned and lifted your hair so he could put it on you and the very next community gathering was Johnny eagerly explaining the symbol to your followers. It was etched into the temple walls soon after. 

–

The realisation happened all at once. You only attended community gatherings for special occasions now and when you did they were all looking at you like you were their God made flesh. Your followers had become something else, something well beyond a little eco-living commune. That had not been your doing. 

The door was locked. You could not leave your space in the Temple. Your hand flew to the back of your necklace, realising with a startle that you couldn’t take it off. Simon and Johnny never did have collars made. Why would they? You were rapidly realising they had never intended to. You looked in the mirror, tried to find a clue. The pendant… it was only when you drew it over and over again that you figured it out. This wasn’t some symbol of an old Goddess, it was the letters S R J M twisted around to make a pretty symbol. You sat and stewed, waiting for them to get back. When they did you were sat on the bed, glowering at them.

“Aww ye figure us out bonnie?”

“You played me.”

“Like a fucking violin sweetheart” Simon cooed, walking over to flick the pendant. 

You huffed up at him. Everything was completely fucked now. You had all but ordered your followers to treat these two as your spokesmen. You had been slowly vanishing from public life, ingraining in their minds that you were a God who lived in a temple and only graced them with your presence when they had really earned it. All this after years of breaking them down so they thought nothing they ever did was good enough, so of course they would never think they had earned it. 

And you had never used violence for anything, you were soft and lived on champagne and strawberries for fuck sake, it wasn’t like you could brute force your way out of this. You were enough of a schemer to know when you had been outplayed.

“So the little shy virginal act?”

Johnny laughed and came over to nuzzle into your hair.

“Ye’d naw believe how many times Si has been in my arse hen, this isnae even the first house of God he’s bent me over in.”

You scowled and pushed his head away, but his eyes only sparkled with excitement as he bullied it right back into nuzzling you like a fucking dog. 

“Pup has been so excited about you finally figuring it out. You’ve been teasing him for months now, don’t think it’s time to give him a treat for how well behaved he’s been for you?”

It’s not like you were against the idea, it had been delicious being the dominant one all this time but there was something interesting about the idea of letting Simon take control, letting him get Johnny to fuck you the way you had let him fuck Johnny. Because that would be the case you knew now. It was so obvious knowing what you knew, you really should have figured out way sooner that Simon had always been in control. All the things you had done since he got here that you had thought your ideas weren’t yours at all, he had put them in your head. 

“So that’s it then? You keep me here and take over?”

Simon was looking at you with something deranged behind those eyes. It was dreadfully exciting. 

“You're coming to tonight's community gathering. You can decide if puppy gets a treat after that.”

–

The Birth of God happened on that brilliant Friday evening. One moment you had been fighting against your conscience, and the next you had let go. You had walked forward, no floated, and pressed a holy kiss to his head. Watching one of your followers plunge a knife into the heart of another on your altar, both with a smile on their faces, was fucking beautiful.

The Revelation happened about the same time. You dipped your fingers in the blood (the same colour as those tomatoes he so loved, the tomatoes that his body would feed and your followers would eat) and marked his murderer with your symbol, the initials of the men that had made you God. 

Puppy had more than earned his treat.

[subbyp]

I have this idea for an AU wherein Sanji’s physical Germa modifications kick in during his time starving on the rock, and when he’s like 14 Judge finds out and decides to take him back by force, because if the physical modifications took then surely the mental ones will too and if not there’s always psychological conditioning like what he did to Reiju, right? So Germa rocks up to the Baratie, burns it to the waterline, slaughters the crew (almost) to a man, and drags Sanji back. they don’t realize that Zeff survives, and they probably wouldn’t care if they did. (more fool them)

the mental modifications never kick in, but Sanji learns to act like they do, developing this false persona as a vicious shallow hedonist. he also leans hardcore on his growing resemblance to Sora to get Judge to indulge his whims (no, there’s nothing actually sexual about it, but it is deeply uncomfortable and it’s supposed to be). this is because he’s waiting for a very specific kind of opportunity…..

five years later, the Straw Hat Pirates are in Loguetown, getting ready to scale Reverse Mountain when Luffy fucks up the storefront of a shabby little seafood shack off the main square where Roger was once executed and is enlisted into chore boy duty. he gets to talking about dreams and piracy and sailing with the owner.

“do you have any dreams?” he says, failing to mop the floor.

“I used to have a few,” says the owner.

“not anymore?” says Luffy.

“none of your business,” says the owner.

“you should be my cook!” says Luffy.

“not a chance in hell,” says the owner.

then the shit goes down that leads to Luffy being put up on the block and almost executed. when the Straw Hats flee to the Merry they find the owner standing there waiting for them with a book under his arm.

he explains that he can’t be their cook—he’s too old and too broken, he’s had enough of the Grand Line, and besides staying in Loguetown is the best shot he has at achieving his dream (“I knew you had a dream!” yells Luffy. everyone ignores this), but he’s got a cookbook and nutrition guide he’s been working on and the Straw Hats can have the first draft so they don’t totally die of scurvy and shit if they swear to do him one favor—to, if they ever, out there on the sea, meet a nineteen-year-old kid called Sanji, tell him that Red-Leg Zeff is alive.

“yeah! of course!” says Luffy. “if you tell me what your dream is.”

“to see him walk free,” says Zeff.

—

Zeff’s cookbook keeps the Straw Hats properly nourished. but they barely make it to Sabaody in canon, and here they have one less combatant, so Kuma decides to split the team at Thriller Bark, and instead of sending Zoro to Kuraigana, he sends his unconscious just-bore-Luffy’s-pain ass right onto the Germa 66 flagship.

Judge wants to vivisect Zoro to figure out how a regular human non-DF-user could be so freakshow strong and then turn his head in for the bounty, but Sanji recognizes him as one of the Straw Hats (and thus, one of the liberators of Alabasta) and improvs on the spot that he wants him as a swordsmanship coach (“after all, sir, you want me to improve my swordsmanship”) and, he heavily implies, bed-warmer. thus Zoro wakes up in a Germa 66 infirmary, wounds bandaged, swords gone, and explosive collar on his neck, as the third-born Prince of Germa demands to be allowed to see his new toy alone. (“yes, I’ll be careful with him. I don’t want to break him when I’ve just got him!”)

zoro, having deduced what sanji is alluding to, is about ready to kill him with his bare hands on the spot, but as soon as they’re alone in the room together sanji starts immediately and profusely apologizing for being such a creep. he says he’s not into men (“especially not unwilling ones”) but it was the only way he could think of to get them even occasional privacy, and btw he is probably going to have to claim that he’s doing some unsavory stuff or else Judge might possibly have Zoro killed, but he’ll never lay a hand on Zoro without his consent besides what is strictly necessary to fake it around the Vinsmokes—

at this point Zoro starts to wonder what the hell he’s going on about. Sanji explains the whole thing and says that he’s planning on somehow getting Zoro back to the Straw Hats as soon as he can, and in the meantime he’ll make sure Zoro gets food and medical care and that nobody sells off his swords or anything, but he needs Zoro to do something for him in return:

“I’m going to feed you every bit of knowledge I have about Germa 66, and when you leave here, you need to give that information to someone who can destroy us until not even memories remain.”

[bluekidchaos]

Kinktober day 3 - Spencer Reid

for once keeping under 1k words woho! also i originally forgot i was doing the praise kink so i had to add that after i was already done lmao

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Prompt: Praise kink

Warnings: 18+, Sub!spence, praise, pet names (baby boy, bunny), cream pie, unprotected sex, season 3 spencer hair, the mommy kink snuck up on me i-

Words: 700

Can also be read on AO3!

Kinktober masterlist. Regular masterlist.

Being a BAU agent came with a heavy burden, you could see it in Spencer on rough days. He would slump together on the couch and just stare into space, you'd try and comfort him the best you could but sometimes he just needed some time. 

You made sure to pamper him when he was home, cooking dinner together, cuddling, and sex. Really just anything you could do together. He craved intimacy and was highly touch-starved, you didn't mind though as touching him was your favorite thing. 

You loved how you could get him so riled up with just a couple of words and small touches. Having him on top of you yet you were in charge, making him whimper from your praise. 

He would be begging you to let him move once he was inside you. Head resting on your shoulder and barely holding himself up by his forearms. "Please, baby, god, please. Need to fuck you so bad."

Cooing at him and his desperation, "Hold on baby boy, let me just feel you for a second. You're so good for me, bunny." You raked your fingernails over his back and down his sides, leaving red marks in their path. Hearing him groan at the pain made your cunt clench in return. "So big and it's all mine."

Spencer tried to steady his breath, thinking of something else that wasn't his dick in your perfect pussy. He was going through any and all statistics he could remember at the moment in his head, anything to keep still and not just have his way with you.

"Okay, Spence. You can move now, but slow, baby." He whined into your neck as he finally could move his hips. Gently pulling out of you and pushing back in, Spencer was moaning right into your ear at the pleasure. 

Your hand pushed away some of his hair that had fallen in his face, putting it behind his ear. "Th- thank you, mommy, God thank you for letting me fuck you." You could feel his hips speed up a little on their own volition and you tugged a few strands signaling to slow down again. 

"Doing so good for me, baby. You're my good boy right?" He nodded quickly, keeping the pace slow. Languidly thrusting against you. You're planting kisses on his throat, sucking hickeys onto his collarbone.

"Do you wanna cum, bunny? Wanna fill mommy up like a good boy?" Fingers digging into his cheeks, forcing him to look into your eyes. His gaze was hazy with pleasure and glassy from unshed tears. "Make mommy come first and you can come inside me."

Spencer's eyes widened and in a matter of seconds, he was thrusting into you at full speed. His hand snaking down to play with your clit. "Yes, thank you, I'll be good. I'll make you come." 

His hand was making quick work at bringing you right to that delicious edge, feeling it become tighter and tighter in your stomach while he pounded into you like a wild beast. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, the angle making him hit that magical spot inside you every time. 

You're moaning unrestrained into his ear, no doubt garnering noise complaints again, but you couldn't care less. "Spence, yes just like that! You fuck me so good, always so good. So big inside me." You're chanting his name like a prayer as he pinched your clit one last time before you fell over the edge, your end bringing his own. 

Feeling you clench down on him hard and pulse around him. A strangled "Oh, shit, I-" before you feel him fill you up completely. He pumped into you a few more times before stilling and laying down on you, careful not to put all of his weight on you. 

You could feel his seed trickle out of you, making a mess on the sheets under you. You stroked Spncer's hair and planted big wet kisses all over his face and neck, anywhere you could reach. "I love you so much, baby."

Spencer is smiling down at you, that big goofy smile that you loved so much. "I love you too, and thank you."

[anyasathenaeum]

hi,, i don't see many fics like this, b-but what do you think ab pregnant sex w vash? 👉👈 *drops mic and runs away

A/N: GODDAMN YES, YES, YES. THIS IS A BRILLIANT IDEA. PERFECT. THANK YOU ANON, MY BRAIN IS NOW ALL ABOUT THIS

Warnings: MINORS DNI, AFAB!reader, reader is able to be pregnant, mentions of pregnancy, nsfw writing, smut to the max, female terms are used, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (even though reader is already pregnant, PRACTICE SAFE SEX PEOPLE), super soft Vash, Vash has a huge thing for pregnant!reader

To say you weren't expecting this to happen was an understatement.

Neither you nor Vash had been aware that human-plant hybrids could exist, and so, when you discovered you were pregnant, it had been a shock to you both.

Your body had begun to adjust, and given that your baby was a hybrid, your pregnancy had been progressing differently than a typical human pregnancy - your baby was growing faster, forcing your body to adjust faster and more intensely than it would've with a regular pregnancy.

Vash had become extremely protective of you as your pregnancy continued and your baby grew, his near-constant hovering a sign of his love and worry for you as you carried his child. He always ensured to be near you, showering you in love and affection, doing his best to take care of you in every possible way.

"(Y/N), you're not supposed to lift anything heavy! Here, let me do that!"

"Mayfly, don't stand on a stool like that! What if you fall?! You could really hurt yourself and the baby!"

"What can I do, my love? How can I make things easier for you?"

However, what you also hadn't anticipated, was how attractive Vash seemed to find you now that you were pregnant, your belly swollen with his child. His hands were always on you in some way - resting protectively over your belly, pressed to the small of your back, wrapped around your waist, gently massaging the back of your neck, Vash always had to be touching you somehow.

And in bed? Vash was insatiable.

"V-Vash! H-Hah, slow down, I- sensitive!"

Vash's tongue continue to swirl around your sensitive bud after already drawing several orgasms from you, his fingers continuing to stretch you open and thrust into you simultaneously, stoking the fire of desire deep within you yet again.

Your hands had long since buried themselves into Vash's hair, tugging on the roots hard enough to get Vash to moan into your pussy, pulling a moan from you in turn.

"S-Sorry, Mayfly, you just- you taste so good. Can't get enough of you."

Vash's eyes were wide and filled with desire and want as he looked up at you, as well as something softer - love, and tenderness, and a kind of deep-rooted happiness, despite the fact that his mouth and chin were coated in your slick. He couldn't help but smile at you warmly, as if he wasn't in the middle of eating you out like you were the first meal of a starved man.

You could feel the heat rising to your face as Vash gazed at you, especially when you saw Vash's gaze drift to your swollen belly, a fire evident in his eyes. Something about you like this, in his bed, your belly round with his child, drove Vash to the edge, a single word echoing over and over in his mind as his desire for you grew and grew and grew: "Mine."

"Vash... please..."

Your voice was whiny and desperate for him, begging him to continue touching you, to feel him against you, in you.

"Patience, my love, patience," Vash replied, snapping out of his trance with a gentle smile on his face.

Vash took great care as he adjusted you, tucking a pillow beneath your hips to shift your belly to your side, "I want you as comfortable as possible, Mayfly."

Of course, despite Vash's desire and increasing need for you, he was still kind and caring and loving, putting you above all else.

"I love you, Vash," You whispered to him gently, reaching up to caress his face with a gentleness Vash had never felt before, a tenderness so genuine that it brought tears to his eyes.

"I love you, too, Mayfly. My love... my (Y/N)."

Vash took your hand in his much larger one as he spoke softly, pressing the gentlest of kisses to the palm of your hand before pressing your hand up against his cheek. He let his eyes flutter shut as he reveled in your touch, at how much love Vash felt for you and just how badly he wanted to give you every possible thing in life.

"Yours," You panted softly, reaching down with your other hand to stroke Vash's cock oh so gently, "I'm yours, Vash."

Vash twitched as soon as he felt your hand on his cock, and he bit down on his lip to stifle the moan escaping his lips at the feeling of your touch. Every time you touched him, Vash felt like it was the first time all over again - his body reacted to you like it was, becoming highly sensitive to your touch, to your scent, to your warmth, to you.

"H-Hah! Mayfly, I-I-"

"Shh," You cooed gently, stroking his cock a bit more firmly, feeling precum leaking from his tip as you did so, "Let me feel you, Vash."

Vash couldn't help but whimper at your words, his desire feeling amplified as he watched you touch him, as he watched you make him feel so good, your gaze warm and loving and yet, still filled with desire for him.

You could feel Vash's cock twitch in your hands, and that, paired with the whimpers and moans and gasps escaping Vash's lips, let you know that he was getting close to release. And so, you quickly let go of him.

"(Y/N)!"

The whine that Vash let out was desperate and soft, causing you to squeeze your thighs together in anticipation and desire. You gave Vash a few moments to come back down and away from the edge, before taking him in your hand again and lining him up with your entrance, letting his cock brush through your folds and feel how soaked you were.

You could see Vash's eyes widen as he felt how wet you were for him, and you couldn't help but smirk a little as you watched how his eyes got even bigger as he slipped into you at last.

"Ha-ah!"

A broken gasp escaped Vash at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him, your warm walls squeezing him and enveloping him in the most intimate and perfect way. You let out a moan as Vash sheathed himself all the way inside you, the feeling of his cock stretching you out overwhelming you.

"V-Vash!"

You couldn't help but call to him as he began to thrust gently, taking care not to move too hard or too fast so as to not jostle you or your belly too badly.

"(Y/N)! G-God, (Y/N), you feel incredible," Vash babbled against your lips as he continued to thrust into you, absolutely drunk off the feeling of you tightening around him, "You're so beautiful, (Y/N). So beautiful. You look so beautiful carrying my child, (Y/N), God, s-so beautiful."

Vash felt your pussy clench down hard on him as he spoke, and he couldn't help but moan and move a little bit faster, a little deeper, all his thoughts and emotions and words spilling forth without him being able to stop himself.

"S-So beautiful, (Y/N), you're beautiful like this, belly swollen with my child, with our child, so beautiful, y-you're amazing, I-I love you, (Y/N), God, I love you! I love you so much!"

"I love you, V-Vash!" You moaned out in reply, feeling your body tensing as your orgasm approached once again, your fingers intertwining with Vash's by your head. You couldn't help but turn your head and kiss his fingers gently as he continued to thrust into you, cries of pleasure escaping you both.

"O-Oh, God, (Y/N), I-I'm gonna cum, I-"

"Vash!" You cried out, feeling your orgasm hit you full force as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, causing your pussy to clench down on Vash so tightly that it immediately sent him over the edge, too.

"I love you, (Y/N), I love you," Vash mumbled as he kissed you passionately, feeling himself spill into you as his orgasm washed over him, his seed coating your walls.

Once you both calmed down, Vash slowly withdrew, allowing himself to collapse next to you as he panted softly, his arms pulling you into him and enveloping you in his gentle embrace.

"I love you so much, Vash," You mumbled against his skin, resting your head against him as you tried to catch your breath, just enjoying the feeling of Vash's skin against yours.

You felt Vash brushing your hair away from your face as he gazed down at you, his eyes filled with such love and tenderness that it warmed you down to your soul.

"I love you, too. You mean everything to me, (Y/N). You're my world," Vash whispered to you gently, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before moving his hand down to your belly, caressing it gently, "You both are. And I'll do whatever it takes to keep you both safe. I promise."

[gabessquishytum]

Hob offering to brush out Dream of the Endless, aka king of bedhead's hair. Dream initially protests saying that Hob doesn't have to do that, but Hob insists, and Dream really can't bring himself to put up a fight. So Hob washes Dream's hair (only to make it easier to brush out oc, definitely not cause Hob just wanted an excuse to play with his hair for longer), and Dream rediscovers how much he likes his hair being played with. He nearly cries when Hob is washing his hair, gently massaging his scalp, because he's so touch starved.

After that, Dream does everything he can to get Hob to play with his hair again without having to just ask him to. He gets caught in the rain and inexplicably hasn't dried himself off, so obviously this means Hob needs to wash his hair again (Hob was initially baffled by this jump in logic, but he was definitely not going to complain). Dream does this several times before Hob is like, "you know, if you want me to play with your hair, you can just ask me to" and eventually manages to get Dream to admit that he really likes having his hair played with and that he's really touchstarved. Hob of course decides that he needs to fix this and tells Dream that much. Dream grudgingly admits that he's not opposed to that

Eventually it becomes a regular thing that Dream will show up at Hob's flat demanding cuddles or that Hob play with his hair, and Hob could not be happier about it, neither could Dream. So when Dream's function gets stressful, he goes to Hob where he can lay his head in his lap while Hob is watching tv on the couch or something and have his hair played with, there isn't much that calms Dream down quicker than that when he's stressed.

(definitely not inspired by me getting a haircut and having my hair washed and trying not to cry because of how touchstarved I am, totally not inspired by that)

🪐

Yes YESS. Give that anthropomorphic personification a bloody good head massage. I think it could fix him.

I ADORE the idea of Dream very grumpily face-planting in Hob’s lap because he doesn't want to admit that he wants to be stroked and scritched and petted, but he wants it sooooo much... he's literally smothering himself in Hob’s lap, refusing to lift his head until the requisite amount of hair playing and scalp massaging has been fulfilled. This is somewhat inconvenient for Hob because Dream weighs about 300lbs when he wants to and cannot be moved, and also because if Hob has even one remotely horny thought, Dream will most definitely feel it.

Nevertheless Hob loves playing with Dream’s hair. He has a special comb and brush set commissioned by an artist specifically for Dream. He buys hair products for Dream to try (he likes the mild, lavender scented hair mask that Hob gently applies for him and then washes off). After a long day, it's just as soothing for Hob to play with Dream’s hair, as it is for Dream to have his hair played with.

(They're very much in love with each other, they just haven't noticed yet.)

Sometimes Dream turns up with his full 1689 interview with a vampire style hair, and Hob gives him the prettiest braids and updos you can imagine (Hob was, of course, a hairstylist at some point). But mostly Dream comes with the feathery bedhead, which is really surprisingly thick, and lets Hob patiently work out the knots. Sometimes Dream makes more knots so Hob has to take care of him for long. But Hob never really minds.

(Because, of course, they're in love.)

[nyooms-corner]

-moonwalks into your ask box like its McDonalds-

AYO can I get uh soft Macaque who is touch starved and a S/O whos live language is giving physcial affection/acts of service?

Yes, you absolutely can!

Physical affection

So this man is so fucking touch starved yeah

Man's also has a fuck ton of trauma

Needless to say, it takes a WHILE before you can touch him with any degree of regularity beyond patching him up from random fights.

But once he does let you

This mf is clingy

Clingy Bitch™️

Also pet his ears, like gently rub the shell and inside of the tips this man will be putty in your hands.

If he's out doing a show, you can 100% tease him

He has the self control to not stop in the middle of a show to get back to you but srsly whisper into a shadow in the house complaining that you're lonely and wanna cuddle.

Be warned if you do this however because once he gets home, you are not leaving his hold.

The tail

Oh my God give the tip a kiss. DO IT.

You will not escape the bed I promise

Grooming, or just generally petting through his fur: you will have an unconscious purring monkey in your lap in less that 2 minutes. He will also get grumpy if you stor grooming him unless it's because you fell asleep, then it's revenge time and your turn to get groomed.

Acts of service

Sharpen his training weapons, you will get kisses, or food

Make him a nest/fix up the one thats already made he will swoon

Make him some food/cut up some mango for when he gets home from a play.

Due to what happened with wukong and macaque feeling like he gave far more than he got he will respond 1-1 with whatever you do for him.

Make him a meal: he'll make you breakfast since he wakes up earlier (it devolves into a routine where macaque will make breakfast, you'll make dinner and you both do your own things for lunch)

For the first few months macaque keeps meticulous track of what affections you've given eachother so he can track what he needs to do for you in return still

He doesn't realize that 1) that's not how that works, 2) you aren't doing that because refer to 1

It takes a good while before he let's go if the original purpose of the list, but he still keeps it updated so he has a reminder that someone loves him.

He keeps the list a secret from you.

[mamawasatesttube]

oh my god I need to tell you. so I. a while ago I did a whole bunch of research on touch starvation. and did you know babies literally die if they aren't touched and held. and did you know regular physical contact between a child and their caretakers is important for the child being able to self-regulate their emotions. and did you know that when someone hugs a child what happens is it syncs up their nervous systems. if the child is upset or scared their heart rate calms and they produce less stress hormones etc. and through that the child's body learns to do that on its own. so babies that die from lack of physical touch are literally dying of too much stress. and children who don't get enough touch can have problems like stunted growth, weak immune systems, low weight, and stunted mental and emotional development.

AND KON WAS GROWN IN A TUBE. HED NEVER EVER BEEN TOUCHED. AND THEN HE LIKE, ALMOST NEVER GOT TOUCHED IN A GOOD WAY

I mean granted, the scientists probably figured out a way to inject some kind of cocktail of hormones and chemicals to stimulate the physiological effects of touch so that kon developed properly but like. he never actually experienced it

Cadmus is like, we're gonna make a teenage clone in a test tube, this surely will not result in a kid so desperate for human connection that even terrible relationships will feel good to him

also I just think the first time kon got one of Martha or Jonathan's hugs he must have felt like he died and went to heaven. and at the same time felt really weird, like WHY DO I FEEL IT IN MY BONES WHY DO I WANT TO CRY

WAAAAHHHHH YEAH ABSOLUTELY YES YEAH DEFINITELY YES. touch-starved kon who doesn't even realize how desperate for human connection he is. this kills the man (me)

i just think if you put him in the middle of a group hug pile between ma, pa, and clark, he'd literally start bawling. he'd have no idea why and he'd be so embarrassed but he would just be so overwhelmed. because he has never had prolonged sustained physical affection in any healthy relationship before and he's only little and . AUGH!!!!!

incidentally the touch-starvation is part of why i think kon and bart are so so tactile especially with each other. "raised in a tube" and "raised in vr" both do not very much healthy human connection make. and bart's at least got his family around him but he still sees a kindred spirit in kon. so they will both simply snuggle even while bickering wildly about every topic under the sun just for bickering's sake. any and all friends are more than welcome to join the snugglepile; the toll is just that they have to put up with the konbart bickering game.

but god. god yeah. yeah it ruins me a little bit. he's just a little boy :( and he doesn't even know.

[bokutosmochi]

SPACE IS JUST A WORD MADE UP BY SOMEONE WHO'S AFRAID TO GET CLOSE ♡ GOJO SATORU

gojo satoru x gn!reader

what's it? fluff

allergen warning/s? reader moves a lot while asleep

sugar level? 0.7k

regulars? @hanayanetwork​, @tahonet​, @tokyometronetwork​

parlor's note? most of the time, i'm pretty happy with being single. then i get ideas like this and i'm like AAAAAAAAAA.

bon appetit!

you told him about it before you moved in with him, then reminded him of the fact a few minutes before you two went to bed.

you didn't really like to cuddle while you slept.

you changed positions a lot while you slept, especially during nights where you found it hard to fall asleep. it seemed like the only remedy was to twist and turn around in bed, until your body found a comfortable enough position to find sweet solace in. funnily enough, a lot of the time, this position was how you laid when your body first met the cushion of the bed, yet during that time, it was not deemed worthy of being the position you slept in. things really didn't make sense at times, but that's just how it is, and you've come to accept it.

so when satoru first invited you to move in with him, you told him about it. and now that all of your things were transferred to his house and you were about to spend a night together in the same bed, side-by-side, you reminded him of it again, not wanting him to think that you were mad at him or any of the likes. you were not only doing it for yourself so your limbs were free to roam as they wish throughout the night, but you also did it for him. you didn't want to accidentally kick him because he was laying down too close to you while you tossed around, perhaps tangling yourself within the blankets. besides, if he ever felt needy and touch starved, you were always enjoyed cuddling when you weren't about to go to sleep.

despite all that, satoru found himself with his arms crossed and a small pout on his lips as he gazed at your form sleeping across from him  -- too far away from his own body, might he add. his eyebrows were knit into a furrow when his eyes traveled from your face, so pretty and holding no stress within the skin, to the stuffed toy you had in your arms. that should be me!

while yes, he did understand what you told him, why you didn't really cuddle while you slept, he still couldn't help but feel annoyed, frustrated, even a hint of betrayal bubbled in his gut. can you blame him? the heart wants what it wants.

instead of waking you up and whining to you about it, a smirk crept to his lips as he thought of a fool-proof - or at least he hopes it is - plan to make you snuggle in closer to him, as close as his lovesick self wants.

he's careful as he stands up, making sure your sleeping self would not feel the bed as it dips while he rises from it, then takes long strides over to the corner of the room where the air conditioner was settled at. it was already quite chilly, the way you were nestled in the warm blanket you and satoru shared was enough proof of that -- in his opinion though, it can get a few degrees colder and so he cranked it up a few notches. he didn't turn the appliance on that high most of the time, the only exception being during summer days when heatwaves were kicking his ass, and then this particular night where he was desperate for your comforting touch on him. satisfied with what he had done, he smirked triumphantly to himself and walked back to the bed, ready for you to huddle up to his figure for the warm it provided any time soon.

and when it did - of course it did, it's my plan, after all satoru thought - he couldn't help the way he quietly cooed at you snuggling into his side, mumbling something about s' cold in your sleep. and you're so cute he murmurs back with a gentle pinch of your nose that doesn't wake you up as he stretches his arm that's on your side of the bed to wrap around you and help pull you closer to him.

in classic gojo satoru fashion, he side-eyes the stuffed animal you were cuddling earlier, muttering an i win! at the inanimate object, before going another step further and flicking it off the bed.

i get: reblog

you get: gojo body pillow

[sayitdido]

Hi could you make a story where yeonjun and the girl are academic rivals and then ended up in the same shower room (you could do what you want before this happens) and they do things lol

i couldn't find a way to wrtite this without lots clichés and gender neutral reader. and sorry if it feels rushed. and the part where smut starts has no chemistry but i tried my best. but i am really disappointed in myself in general. but i shouldn't, right? it is just a fanfic it can have clichés and low chemistry from time to time. it happens.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

warnings: slight mention of food, mentions of a handjob(yj receiving), nipple play(reader receiving), reader also receives some pleasure with yeonjun's hands but it is not detailed to keep it gender neutral so yeah, also the rivalry is kinda one sideded

looking up the results of your midterms with worry since it seems like you will not be on top of your major and that means no scholarships for you. and it is not because you are a bad student. there is a person to blame. it is because choi fucking yeonjun. as you feel your blood boiling, you just scream at the screen. choi fucking yeonjun, he doesn't even need that scholarship and just studies this major to "learn" which meant he already has a job ready in his father's company and he is just here to socialize so it is not like he needs to be valedictorian.

you hate him, you definitely hate him. you also hate your so called progressive school that only gives scholarships to selected few and only does gender neutral dorms and bathrooms to make themselves look progressive. doingjust one thing is not enough though. especially if you have struggling students who can't pay tuition.

you decide to go to cafeteria as you are starting to get hungry due to energy you lost with having a tantrum over your grades. filling your tray more than usual as you fell like you are starving.

as you are carrying your tray to closest empty table, you lose you ballence which causes you to drop your tray resulting with ruining yours and the person next to you's clothes. as you rise your head to see who it is, you see the most annoying face. "aren't you going to apologize?" he asks. "i am not going to apologize to a scholarship stealer."

you leave for showers without saying anything. you quickly get undressed. yeonjun has to ruin everything. if he didn't, your life would be actually peaceful. you think to yourself as if you aren't the one who dropped the tray.

you take your time to get clean. hoping the shower will calm you. but you suddenly flinch as you feel presence of someone else. to your surprise, it was yeonjun. you call out to him. "aren't you too fancy for communal showers?" he just roles his eyes and answers back. "for your information, i faileda class due to low attendance rate so the scholarship is yours and i am not a stealer. also i am not too fancy for anywhere. and aren't you tired of the rivalry you made it up in your mind?" you admit that he had a point. "maybe you need to relax." he suggests. "how?" your innocence amuses him.

he laughs before he says. "for such a smart girl, you sure have trouble getting the hints." you think you start to get what he means when he puts it this way. "i pleasure myself on regular basis." he laughs again. "yeah but it starts to get frustrating after awhile."

he might be right. "i can try to be assistance if you give me your concent." his boldness makes you cringe but you also find the hottest guy in campus attractive like any other person. you can continue to hate him after this. " okay. you have it. you have my consent. i say yes."

he walks towards tour cabin. his hands immediately finds your nipples and starts to play with them. as it only makes you ticklish rather than aroused, you just whine.

"be patient, it will help you feel good i promise." he says while his other hand comes dangerously close to your between your legs.

as he starts to also play with it his mouth kisses one of your nipples. he is rather slow and sensual unlike how you imagined him. yes you imagined him. soon you start to feel the pleasure. as he focuses on playing with your breasts, you slowly start to moan implying your pleasure.

his one hand piching and caressing your nipple while the other works wonders that you, yourself, could never achive.

"that's it. such a sweet voice to hear." he says when your moans get louder. you are glad that it is not the time where it usually is crowded.

"yeonjun, i am about to cum." you say and his hand fastens to help you reach it. as you shiver while orgasming he laughs in pleasure.

him about to leave, you call his name. "what about you?" you ask. "no worries, you don't have to do anything back. i just felt like helping out." but you insist which eventually makes him confess that he would love a handjob in return.

[wuxiaphoenix]

Worldbuilding: Collapsing Empires

One of our classic stories is the band of Plucky Rebels against the Evil Empire. I will boldly go on record as saying I love these stories. Who doesn’t want to cheer on the rag-tag determined heroes fighting against overwhelming odds? (See Star Wars, The Last Starfighter, The Magnificent Seven, and so many others.)

On the other hand I also read history, and so there’s something I’ve noticed. While the urge to create an empire seems to be a human constant, individual empires always fall. Eventually.

I’m sure there are many reasons for this. I’ll give you a few I’ve noticed; you can probably suggest more. The three I’ve got are environmental shifts, out of context problems, and the elite desire to stay in power at all costs.

Each of these can, of course, feed into the others. Here’s a few examples.

Environmental shifts are nasty. Some are from human land use - deforestation and gold or lead mining do numbers on large areas - but others are just the solar system giving you a Bad Era. To be very general, our climate tends to alternate between periods of warmer and more predictable weather, and cooler, less predictable weather patterns. (You can in fact have a scorching drought or a dozen in an Ice Age. It’s just on average cooler.)

Empires tend to get started and grow during the good times, to the point they’re right on the edges of their ecological limits as to how many people can make a living without starving. And then a bad spot hits. And things go sideways. As they say of bankruptcies, first slowly, then all at once. Famines usually start in some spots, and the empire handles it, getting ever more stressed - and then worse weather sparks floods and mudslides, and out of that ecological havoc you tend to get plagues, and between plague and famine you can’t feed or levy enough troops.... And then law and empires collapse as everyone scrambles madly to survive and people who were on the empire’s borders try to make out like a bandit. Pun fully intentional.

A “sudden” (usually over decades) climate change might be considered an out of context problem... but I had more direct and weirder things in mind. At one point, for example, we had archaeological evidence that the Luwian Kingdom might have been wiped out by a comet strike. Current archaeology thinks not, but the scenario still remains possible for fiction. Not to mention the scholarly wrangling over what really happened to Sodom and Gomorrah. It looks like the real-life cities were on a very oil-rich plain. So theoretically, if a meteor shower came down and punched a few holes....

But you don’t have to look to outer space. Cortez and other conquistadores showed up from across the Atlantic with a deep history of warfare that was an extremely out of context problem for the Aztecs, Incas, and many more. (Yes, diseases played a big role. But historically the conquistadores legit beat local armed forces high, wide, and handsome.) Joseon Korea and Tokugawa Japan had similar problems with the rest of the world. Anna and the King is a fictionalized version of the King of Siam trying to ease his kingdom into a soft landing in the modern world. I can only imagine the battles he must have had with his court over that.

Which leads to the third reason I see empires fall. If a ruler wants to keep ruling, and doesn’t trust his people, he has to make sure no one else is strong enough to oppose him. But keeping everyone too weak to fight you means that sooner or later, they’re too weak and corrupt to fight someone else.

And on the edges of an empire, there is always Someone Else.

Side note: This is one of many reasons I think a republic is the best government to create and maintain a nation. Ideally we have people in power getting overthrown all the time. We just do it on an agreed-upon regular basis. Unfortunately that was also supposed to apply to all bureaucracy....

Anyway. If you’re writing Plucky Rebels against the Evil Empire, go for it! But you might want to also poke some history and see if any of these real-world factors apply. Smart rebels take advantage of an existing crisis! Just ask Li Zicheng.

Though note what happened to him....

[oikasugayama]

Can't stop thinking about AoT boys meeting and obsessing over a bigger girl. Like at first they think she must be from the interior and part of the royal inner circle because she looks 'well fed' while everyone else is starving out in the outer walls, but when they're all in training together they realize she 1. eats just as little as they do, 2. works just as hard as they do, and 3. is just a regular girl from an outer region, and for some reason her body is better at holding onto extra fat than theirs.

Once their initial judgemental theories have been debunked, they're obsessed with her. She's hard working, nice, realistic about the situation they're in but passionate about fighting titans, and not to mention there's something about her curves and her softness that makes them all follow her around or think about her in private.

They're in a race to see who can sleep with her first, or at all, or maybe all of them can, they don't know. The lewd talk starts slowly after months of knowing her but eventually any time the guys are in groups and getting a little riled up they start wondering what she looks like under that uniform, how good it would feel to be with her, how soft and squishy and gushy...

When she can't join the scouts because she can't master the ODM gear because her weight shifts her center of gravity and makes her a bit less agile than some of her comrades, her admirers are more devastated than she is.

She makes it her goal to get into the military police then, deciding that if she can't pass her ODM gear test then she'll excel in all other fields, including fraternizing with her superiors...

She meets with Hange first about the possibility of altering the ODM gear--Hange wants to and wants her in the scouts, but ultimately they're supportive when she says she wants to join the military police instead. Hange suggests meeting with Levi to talk about it because he also wanted her in the scouts, so she goes to his office.

There she makes the bold move to suggest outright that people are underestimating her because of her body and she's far more capable than people give her credit for. Levi agrees, says she's very capable. She says yes, and it seems like her comrades wonder about her capabilities... in private... And honestly she's sad to leave them because the attention is... Exciting. Levi bitterly says she'll have plenty of that attention from the corrupted fucks in her new regiment and she should be careful what she wishes for.

She tells him she pretty much never gets what she wishes for but she overcomes it anyway. For example, she's wished just to know some tender touches every now and again to balance the fighting she does in training, but no one is ever bold enough to ask her to... Well, yanno. Anything.

And Levi is intrigued now, his dick is intrigued even though he tries to will it not to be ('don't fuck your subordinates' but God is she pretty with her round cheeks and chin and her plump arms and thighs and belly and that ass, fuck, she won't be his subordinate for much longer, she'll be transfered out in less than a week. Fuck it.) and he leans forward in his chair and rests his elbows on the desk with his fingers intertwined, showing them off for her enjoyment.

You're trying to play with boys, he tells her. Of course they won't approach you. If you need company, you need to find a man.

A man can approach me as soon as he'd like, she responds. Otherwise I'm going to go play with as many boys as I can find before I leave the regiment.

And that ignites something possessive in Levi. He's up, demands she stand, he circles her, touches her, assesses her.

Those boys wouldn't know what to do with you, no matter how many of them tried. On your knees, cadet.

Sir?

You're still my subordinate so you answer to me. On your knees.

and yeah... levi's finding out how that fat pussy tastes.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Breakfast is served | Part 2

Pairing | Husband!Robert Downey Jr. x Wife!Female!Reader

Word count | ~ 750 words

Summary | After waking your husband up in a particular way a few weeks ago, he can finally return the favor when you're having a very spicy dream about him. However, he won't let you finish that quickly, as he's hellbent on pulling only the strongest of finishes from your body.

Warning(s) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. RPF, established relationship (husband and wife), porn with very minimal plot, unspecified age gap, consensual somnophilia (consent was given off-screen by both parties involved), smut (sex dream, thigh humping, hair pulling, oral (f receiving), fingering, orgasm delay, male masturbation/handjob, squirting, cum eating, slight sir-kink, dirty talk, implied aftercare).

A/n | I want to thank @ccbsrmsf1 for inspiring this one; this one is for you! I hope you will enjoy it even more than I did when writing it! If you have not read part one yet, you can find it right here. 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | GIF-credit goes to the owner

Main Masterlist | Robert Downey Jr. Masterlist

You're sleeping soundly next to your husband, Robert, dreaming about him again. Only this time, it wasn't a regular dream; you were having a��sex dream. And a very good one, at that.

Your leg's hooked behind Robert's, and in your dream, he's railing you deliciously from behind, which makes you hump against his thigh. Combined with the moans of his name that leave your lips, this wakes him up slowly, and he can tell he's rock hard already.

''Hmm, Robert, please,'' you whisper in your sleep while you keep humping against his leg, and that's when he suddenly gets an idea. For this to work, he has to turn you onto your back without you waking up, and surprisingly enough, it works.

He nudges your thighs apart and is greeted by your soaked, desperate, and glistening cunt which he spreads apart with his thumbs to get a full view which makes him twitch, and a bead of pre-cum is leaking from his tip.

''Hmm, always so ready for Sir to eat you out, aren't you? My little slut who dreams of me, bet you're dreaming about me fucking your brains out, but don't worry, I'll do that later, Gorgeous,'' he whispers against your cunt.

He starts slowly by licking a stripe from your entrance to your clit, which he circles in a slow manner with the tip of his tongue until you begin to squirm a little, but he doesn't give you enough yet to wake you up fully.

He's teasing you a little, so you're even wetter when he finally goes to eat you out like a man starved, just like he likes it. And whatever Robert wants, he will get.

He keeps going like this for a little while until his hips are slowly rutting against the mattress, and he's getting impatient. He also adds his long, thick fingers to the mix, a surefire way to wake you up.

He groans against your cunt as he keeps licking your clit, and one of his fingers slides in, and with a loud moan, you wake up, your back arching off the bed as you feel his warm tongue lapping up every drop of juice.

''Fuck yes,'' you say as your hands slide into his hair, pulling on it as his finger sets a steady pace as his mouth is sealed around your clit.

''P-please, more fingers,'' you beg, and Robert happily listens by adding another one, keeping the same pace but groaning as you pull his hair from the pure pleasure building inside you.

''Sir, please, need to cum!'' you but Robert shakes his head, notifying you that you're not allowed just yet.

The groans leaving Robert's chest as he pulls out his fingers and replaces them with his tongue are helping your orgasm build even faster, and you're not sure how much longer you can take it.

''P-PLEASE! Please let me cum; I'm almost there,'' you beg as you pull his hair even harder, and at this point, Robert has his hand almost clamped around the base of his cock to not cum yet.

The fingers of his free hand are setting a brutal pace in your cunt as he shoves them back in, and his mouth is attached to your clit as he sucks harshly, pulling an intense orgasm from you.

''CUM!'' he demands, and you feel the coil snap and a flood of warmth through your body as you squirt all over his face and your thighs right before Robert quickly sits up and straddles your abdomen.

He jerks himself off as his head falls back into his neck, and his orgasm is nearly as intense as yours, and he shoots ropes and ropes of his cum over your stomach and chest, some of it even reaching your face with the power behind it.

''Jesus, look at you, you're my dirty fucking cumslut with my cum all over your tits and face,'' Robert says as he climbs off of you and bends down to lick up every last drop of his cum before kissing you and making you taste both your and his cum on his tongue and mouth.

When he pulls away, you lay there wholly fucked out, and Robert is proud of how much of a mess he has made of you. After he's cleaned you, himself, and the bed up, he climbs in with you before pulling you against his chest and spooning you back to sleep.

[historia-vitae-magistras]

alfred straight up murdering his brother on accident just because he walked too quietly into the room is so fucking funny but how terrifying is alfred to regular humans? If he goes to casually throw some ridicously heavy thing he's working on over to the intern or whoever theyre not gonna get back up on their feet to chew him out for it lol. also... getting shot and squished by bisons still hurts like all hell right? does matthew start to get wary around him or is he just too used to it to be all that bothered?

Lmao right? I very much enjoy using these characters, especially fleshy loony-tune-style horror shows because good fucking god, it's funny. But its also very fun? Alfred javelining people into the water must be so fun. Alfred casually picks up Matt when he's on the sofa because he dropped his keys behind it. He will randomly rip up troublesome trees in someone's fields in the middle of the night. This is not a wholly negative, angsty or even humourous trait.

So for humans... not very as an adult. I think. Generally, Alfred puts his people at ease. He's handsome, funny, intelligent and friendly. Man has that kind of crooked smile and easy charm. The charisma, luck and social skills of the gambler and the grifters and drifters of the old Westerns if not the old West. When he was little and had less control because he'd get excited, I could see him getting himself in trouble and accidentally committing some violence. As an adult, I think he's much more careful around humans, and the only time he tends to bust out the super strength is to prevent accidentally killing humans. Picking up a car in front of someone getting aggressive will contain that person's aggression goddamn fast.

As for if things hurt, yes. Superheroes and Gods are boring for me to write about. I like making these fuckers creepy and overpowered sometimes, but I'm most invested in their humanity. So time to do the math. The average bison is about 816 to 1,088 kg, and the most recent record for a deadlift was 487 kg. So on the lower end of that, 816 divided by 487 is about 1.67; redeploy that as a percentage that's about 160% the strength of what's currently possible. I personally think this is why this dork is always snacking, so it has some effect on his metabolism and his physiology. He's not going to starve to death as fast as he should with that metabolism because there's that nation fuckery there, but my boy is peckish. So now that I've laid that nonsense out, I generally make him about 160% more resilient than the strongest human (yeah, my browser history is fucked, what about it?), but not in all ways because biologically, that would fuck up his brain something fierce cerebellum be whack big and I like my nerdy NASA boy. But I try to keep that 160 in mind, so it might sometimes be consistent? Maybe? But yeah, he's durable and walks away from a lot of things that most people wouldn't, but he can be shot, dropped, smashed, hit, etc. And his pain tolerance is limited because, again, that removes too much vulnerability and why are we invested in this nerd? Lord knows it's not patriotism on my end. Strong, but not indestructible.

Now with the biology and the physical aspect of my stupid brain's explanation of this yankee doodle dumbass (affectionate) articulated, onto the emotional and interpersonal consequences. This is a bit meta, but Alfred's perception of himself and his loved ones can reflect this fandom and canon. I don't know if canon makes them twins, but many people do despite some intrinsic differences in history, progress, culture and values. It's a valid take because who wants to lord over other people or think about being the superpower and the empire? And passport privilege, cultural dominance, and political hegemony are things that only come into play when we're online or in some sort of international situation. The world revolves around the US, but Alfred's 'first amongst equals' with the laurels of power is not his default setting. At home, he just wants to be another person. Abroad, he has to function on a different set of rules, and leadership, and that arrogance only comes out at certain points. He wants to be human, he wants to be loved, he wants to be normal. And it hurts his fucking feelings to be reminded he isn't, that it is lonely at the top, that no matter how similar, the Trudeau quote applies.

Matt's used to him, and Alfred's reasonably careful, but the gulf between them, Alfred's ability to just steamroll him if he wanted to (even if Matt would give him a hell of a fight) does leave its marks. Matt tries as hard not to show it as much as Alfred tries not to crush him. He's overjoyed about something and goes in for a hug, and there go a couple of subluxing ribs as he kind of affectionately slaps Alfred's shoulder like "indoor muscles! Indoor muscles, bud!" And its mainly because Alfred doesn't like thinking about being a weirdo, and Matt doesn't want to remind him. They want to be as equal as possible, but physics is a thing.

[polar-equinoxx]

☁️The heavens told me that clouds have been grey

yes that is from lady gaga's song hold my hand from tgm-

Here lies all of my icemav fics! So guaranteed smooches <3 (None of them link to each other unless they are in a seperate series btw)

Here is the big ol’ masterlist :)

goose and slider forever judging them in the background

☁️There's a silver lining on every cloud 13k+

Rated Teen, and with copius amounts of fluff :3 A collection of various icemav kisses prompts from a tumblr post full of them

☁️Only One Bed (1076 words)

Rated Gen, emotional hurt/comfort Iceman and Maverick are on a mission of somesorts together, and they get put in a room which has, yep, you guessed it, only one bed. And Maverick has a nightmare.

☁️Sunset on the Field (1086 words)

Rated Gen, first kiss, a sunset, that's it. Maverick invites Iceman to sit on a field near a runway to watch the sunset and maybe stargaze, a thing friends do, right? And they both deny their plainly obvious feelings for the other until neither of them can bear it any longer…

☁️Smoke in the Air (735 words)

Rated Teen, with anxiety, and hurt/comfort They don’t tell Iceman that Maverick is missing in action. Kind of important information when you're in a hospital ward twelve hours after you're shot down.

☁️Warmth (1020 words)

Rated Teen, angst and hurt/comfort Maverick hates sleeping in the same bed as Ice. He also hates himself. Tonight makes it way worse.

☁️Blame (957 words)

Rated Teen, angsty thoughts and its a sickfic, so.. Maverick was sick. Not the little cough and blocked nose sick, but the feverous, restless sick that gives thumping headaches and coughs that give you chest ache.

☁️Missed You (2119 words)

Rated Teen, secret relationship, anxiety, mental and regular hospitals (i'm sorry Mav) An accident. Two injured pilots, a broken wrist on one, a fractured ankle and twisted shoulder on the other. A string of numbers. 225 63 2829

☁️Still by your Side (2006 words)

Rated Teen, angst, post-break up, hurt/comfort, injuries It's been a couple of months since Iceman and Maverick broke up. They're still wingmen, they still fly missions together. But it takes a bad landing from an ejection for them to realise that they still need each other. Inspired by this post , that broke me.

☁️Even Ice Melts (1927 words)

Rated Teen, angsT, grief, stormy night, post-argument, hurt comfort, good god this has it all. “No one will be there to mourn you when you crash and burn,” Ice hisses slowly. Oh how he hated Iceman. “Then let us hope I crash and burn tomorrow,” he says harshly, still somehow maintaining eye-contact with him.

☁️Starved (1825 words)

Rated Teen, hand-holding, emotional hurt comfort, mutual pining sort of at the end... Maverick is touch-starved. He doesn't know it. Nobody else knows it. Nobody else except for Iceman. Of course he had to notice. And despite them being rivals, Ice plucks up the courage to offer Maverick a seat in the next lesson.

☁️Boys Don't Cry (1921 words)

Rated Teen, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, Ice needs a hug. Iceman Kazansky has been told all his life by everyone older than him that 'boys don't cry', 'boys don't have emotions' and if they do one must keep it all to themselves. He gets it, it's kind of why he'd called Iceman. But if there's one person that'll unexpectedly rewrite that lecture it's his newly rival-turned-wingman. Or, Ice tries to hold all his emotions in for the hundredth time and Maverick helps him understand he doesn't have to hide them anymore.

☁️Cingulomania (2127 words)

Rated Teen, fluff, hurt/comfort, Maverick needs a hug (noun) - a strong desire to hold someone in your arms. "When I go, I hope I go out just as beautifully,” Ice muses out loud. “Oh-” Maverick starts, seemingly involuntarily. “I’d really prefer it if you didn’t go at all..” Or, Iceman has unknowingly forged an emotional connection with his wingman

☁️I'm in Your Arms, I'm in Your Care (4187 words)

Rated Teen, two parts in one, hurt/comfort, both Ice and Mav need hugs Luck wasn't a strong enough word to describe how much love Ice felt for Maverick. There was such a thing as touch, though, and that was heaven for both of them.

☁️The Time Will Come (2633 words)

Rated Gen, SO much fluff, dadt, dadt repeal If there's one thing that had got Ice this far, it was the promise that one day, things would get better. He'd just have to wait. But he had got this far, looking at the smirking face of his partner-in-secret, Maverick Mitchell of all people.