#chaosfic

[chaos-monkeyy]

Alrighty here's an SGA team-poly-ship WIP that I got a decent start on 3 years ago, but which I know I'm never going to write more for. Little bit of explicit content below the cut!

John/Teyla/Ronon/Rodney, sleeping together and Sleeping Together

Working title: Group

Teyla snored. She insisted she didn’t, but she did. 

Rodney was all elbows, and didn’t stop talking and muttering to himself even when he was fast asleep.

Ronon, a little surprisingly, was the worst blanket-thief John had ever met. He was also, less surprisingly, an incurable cuddler. 

And John himself… Well, John honestly wasn’t sure what his ‘thing’ was— but for all the snoring and elbow-jabs and sleepy overheating bear hugs, he’d never in his life slept so well as he did with the three of them. 

It had all started by accident. On a long away-mission, travelling by foot with the locals to a remote temple of healing that sounded distinctly promising on the Ancient technology front, John’s team had wound up sharing a single large tent every night. Apparently communal sleeping was the norm for that particular society, and Teyla had quietly but sternly warned him that their guides would almost certainly look on them with suspicion if they refused to share. Maybe even refuse to lead them to the temple after all; and something on the planet screwed with the jumper sensors and flight controls too much to try and fly there themselves. 

So, they’d very graciously accepted their shared sleeping tent for the approximately week-long journey there and back. 

It hadn’t been so bad; a little awkward at first, maybe, but the nights were uncomfortably cold and the extra body heat was far from unwelcome. Plus, it wasn’t like John wasn’t used to bunking down in shared barracks anyway. 

The part he’d been much less used to was finding himself in the middle of what amounted to a cuddle pile the next morning. But by the time they got back to the village near the stargate, even waking up in a cozy tangle of limbs had started feeling almost… normal. So normal, in fact, that once they did get back to Atlantis, John hadn’t been able to sleep properly without them anymore. 

As it turned out, the feeling was mutual, and… well, one thing eventually led to another. 

…

Ronon somehow always managed to wake up first. 

John didn’t particularly mind. Especially not on mornings like this one, where he gradually slipped awake to the feeling of a familiar body moving against him and the slow, luxurious recollection that it was their day off and nobody had to get up yet. 

Or, get out of bed, more accurately. Seemed some people were definitely getting something up already. 

John hummed quietly, shifting sleepily as Ronon’s mouth found his neck, lips soft and wet and smiling against his skin. He could feel the light graze of Ronon’s teeth and the scratchy tickle of his beard as he meandered a slow trail down John’s exposed neck to his bare shoulder, one large, warm hand sliding up John’s leg under the sheets and over his hip. 

He could also feel Ronon’s erection, already hard and full, rutting lazily against him from behind while Ronon kept mouthing at him and running that hand teasingly over his stomach, squeezing his hip; just barely brushing past the base of John’s filling cock and away again until John was squirming slowly in place and panting softly for breath. In front of him, Teyla blinked awake, a smile spreading over her face as she watched Ronon pushing the covers down and continuing his lazy trail down John’s body.

[chaos-monkeyy]

So I got inspired by this post and wrote a little ficlet...

A very nice thing - on AO3

Rated Mature

Summary: It takes a few minutes, but Crowley does finally work out what sort of "something" Aziraphale is on about doing for him in return for saving those books.

S02E04 The Hitchhicker

[chaos-monkeyy]

Okay I never actually thought I'd write proper full-on smut for Aziraphale and Crowley but it's how I cope with Having Feelings, so here you go 😂

Take me to bed (full work on AO3)

…

Crowley eased off on the spur-of-the-moment kiss he’d pressed to Aziraphale’s lips in a ridiculous fit of mortal-inspired romanticism, and… waited. 

Nervously. 

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, wide-eyed. He had turned a rather fetching shade of pink, brushing his fingertips lightly over his own mouth with an expression of pure wonder.  “Oh. I… I can… I think I see why the humans enjoy doing this so much. Oh, my.” 

Crowley cocked his head, genuinely surprised. “What, in all this time… Have you really never kissed anyone? Not even to see what all the fuss and bother was about?” 

Aziraphale shook his head in that familiar, innocently flustered gesture. “Well, no, I mean… I never thought it would… Do it again?” 

Teeth baring in a slow grin, Crowley took a moment to relish the hopeful look shining in Aziraphale’s eyes, and obligingly kissed him again. A little less of a desperate plunge, this time; a little gentler, and slower— and deeper. Aziraphale’s soft exclamation was lost in Crowley’s mouth as he parted the angel’s lips with a carefully insistent touch of his tongue. He couldn’t completely tamp down on his own hunger, though; not after millenia of unconsciously and consciously pent-up desire and need for this, this closeness. This feel of Aziraphale melting against his body, all while making those same quiet sounds of pure pleasure as he did when eating some particularly delectable human food concoction. 

Without really noticing he was doing it, Crowley walked Aziraphale slowly backwards until they came up against the wall, mouths still locked together and Aziraphale panting soft little perpetually-surprised moans into Crowley’s mouth with every breath. The angel didn’t even need to breathe, neither of them did; and yet he was, and breathing hard, no less, the very act bringing another toothy grin to Crowley’s face as he finally broke away just far enough to watch Aziraphale pout in confusion when he did. 

“I take it you’ve never done any of the other things humans do with one another either, then?”

…

[asknarashikari]

Tsukasa bringing weird shit from other dimensions strikes again!

Tsukasa and Daiki force the Build crew (and Shotaro and Philip, because why not?) to watch whatever it is that Acchan is doing now, and end up defeated by baby Yuki, Yumi and Tosuke.

#chaosfic

Considering that this is what Acchan is up to right now, I don't think it's entirely appropriate for Yuki and Yumi... especially if they're still kids...

Aka: Tsukasa dies by the hand of his very angry kouhai

"Tsukasa, what the hell were you thinking?!" Ryuuga screamed at his senpai, looking ready to punch him in the face. "My children are one year old babies! ONE! What the fuck made you think this was a good thing for them to watch?"

Tsukasa backed away, raising his hands in an attempt to placate the irate father. "I just thought it'd be funny for them to see their Papa be blond with a little ponytail! I didn't know it had gay shit in it!"

"Tsukasa, the two guys are holding hands in the poster," Philip replied. "Even barring the 'gay stuff', it doesn't look particularly appropriate for the twins, with them holding weapons in each other's faces and all."

"And now, they keep crying whenever they see me!" Sento complained. "They keep thinking I was going to go and kill someone if they let me out of their sight!"

"Well, they're smart kids, aren't they? Just explain to them that's it's just some guy who looks like you, and not actually you!" Tsukasa protested.

"Tsukasa. They. Are. BABIES." Shoutaro reiterated, looking rather cross. "You should've shut this thing down as soon as you realized it wasn't family-friendly! And now we have two traumatized BABIES!"

"Alright! I'm sorry, okay? I didn't think this one through." Tsukasa apologized.

"Sorry doesn't cut it, you idiot!" Ryuuga yelled in his face. "If we didn't need you to save the world sometimes I would've killed you already for what you did to my kids!"

"...I guess that's fair." Tsukasa admitted.

"Don't think you're gonna get away with this unscathed, Tsukasa."

The hero who loves the color that doesn't exist looked up to see Sento, holding up the Genius Bottle, ready to equip it onto his Driver. Ryuuga, similarly, had the Magma Knuckle at the ready, and the Xtreme Memory was on tsandby, hovering between Shoutaro and Philip.

"If you know what's good for you... start running."

[chaos-monkeyy]

Poooor Mobius..... 😇😏

More priest!Mobius, inspired by @chaos-monkeyy's amazing fic For I have sinned

[askrikkaiandhyotei]

Groupchat shenanigans request!

Emu gets seriously drunk for some mysterious reason, and Takeru walks in on Tsukasa trying to convince him to dye his hair blond. (The little shit has already done the same, after all.) Chaos ensues.

#chaosfic

Inspired by @narashikari 's recent post about Hiroki Ijima's newly blond hair.

Chapter up for you!

Also, feel free to comment on the fic if you have more requests 💖💖💖💖💖

[chaos-monkeyy]

bg3 has consumed my very being and I'm not even out of Act 1 yet help

Astarion/Gale smut: Just a Little Taste on AO3

Explicit, ~3k one-shot. Includes bickering, biting, and Gale's wonderfully ridiculous default lace-up underwear. Full work and tags on AO3, opening excerpt below 😏

“Writing in your little book again, I see.”

At the quiet, but entirely unexpected voice floating out from the darkness behind him, Gale very nearly jumped out of his own skin. The words of a spell leapt immediately to his lips; fiery intent coalesced in his mind— but before he found his tongue, a familiar pale figure in a half-laced, frilly shirt materialized from the nighttime shadows next to Gale’s tent.

Gale scowled at him, heart still pounding from the surprise. Stealthy, sneaky son of a—

“What is it that you’re always scribbling at in there lately, I wonder. Hmm?” Astarion continued, completely ignoring the glare. The vampire’s characteristic loftily-amused smirk twisted his mouth as he tilted his head to peer at the pages of Gale’s notebook in the light of the nearby torch. “Oh, I know. It’s about me, isn’t it?”

Gale slapped the notebook shut, feeling a touch of heat creeping into his cheeks. He knew that flush was, unfortunately, not nearly so subtle or unobtrusive as the way Astarion had snuck up on him in the otherwise quietly slumbering camp.

“Of course not,” he scoffed— not precisely lying; Astarion was merely one of many subjects in those pages. “Why would I write about you with everything else that’s going on lately?”

Astarion heaved a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes. “Oh, don’t be so tedious, darling. I’m quite bored enough already. Now, don’t think I haven’t noticed all your innocuous little questions during our travels. Ever since you found out the truth about me…” Astarion prowled slowly closer to close the small gap between them as he spoke, his smirk widening far enough to bare perfect white fangs in the flickering firelight. “You simply haven’t been able to leave it alone, have you? The chance to get… up close and personal. See how we vampires behave, in the flesh.”

[chaos-monkeyy]

The inevitable baldur's gate piss fic from yours truly 💦

Gale/Halsin smut: Stealth, or a Lack Thereof on AO3

~2k, contains accidental/nonconsensual voyeurism but also porn logic (i.e. everyone is into it, it's fiiine). Full tags on AO3, short excerpt below!

-

…Gale turned his head, raising a hand and blinking against the sudden bright flare of magic— and when he looked back… Sure enough, where the bear had been only a moment before, there now stood Halsin. 

In his human form, naked as the day he was born.

In addition to being nude, though, he also looked… pained? Gale dragged his eyes off a rather enticing, broad expanse of bare, hairy, sun-dappled skin and felt his brow furrow in sudden concern. Though the bear hadn’t seemed injured in any way, Halsin had immediately curled forward on himself after transforming, dropping heavily down onto his hands and knees with a strained groan.

Gale was, once again, just about to push to his feet and call out— to offer help, this time— when the source of Halsin’s obvious discomfort became rather suddenly and very readily apparent.

While magic could account for a great many things— something Gale well knew— that did not, apparently, include handling a sudden and major change in a body’s bladder capacity…

[chaos-monkeyy]

Also from June, a little Lokius smutlet ft. sub Loki getting good n' spanked 🍑👋

Ready to go, rated E

teaser preview:

Loki, why aren’t you ready yet? We have to go soon.”

Loki looked up, blinking in innocent and entirely feigned confusion.

“Go where?” he asked, stifling a smirk at Mobius’s sigh.

“I told you, it’s the office holiday party today. And we’re going.”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to that,” Loki said, lifting his chin.

Mobius crossed his arms, and fixed Loki with the very stern look which never failed to send a little curl of heat tightening his groin. “Yes, you are.”

“I am not.”

“You’re going,” Mobius said, “if I have to tie you up and drag you there myself.”

Loki licked his lips, finally letting the suppressed smirk play over his mouth, and stood to prowl across the living room towards Mobius.

“Or… I have an even better idea, you could tie me up anyway and dispense with this ‘holiday party’ idea entirely,” he purred, toying pointedly with the TVA agent’s tie. “That would be much less boring.”

[chaos-monkeyy]

Next in my "missed the tumblr updates" lineup: Murdle fic from June!

Inspector Irratino with the Organ in the Ruined Church

this one's rated T with ~implications~, and if you aren't familiar with murdle it's, um. logic puzzles 😂 there's an online version of daily murdles and-- as I discovered when I got the print version-- the first book has an adorable storyline running through it as well.

Which I needed to write fic about, apparently.

teaser preview:

The mysterious island was cold at night. Drawing his blanket tighter around his shoulders, Logico looked around the shadowy interior of the ruined church and shivered.

From the previously mentioned cold, of course. Certainly not because the crumbling and overgrown church was, like, spooky or anything. Spooky implied something of the paranormal, and Logico didn’t believe in such things. He was a man of reason.

Still, even if it wasn’t spooky, it sure was creepy. Especially now, in the dark of night, with cold blue moonshadows casting an eerie light through the empty, warped window frames.

Inspector Irratino, naturally, was delighted.

“Just look at the size of this organ!” Irratino exclaimed with awe from nearby. “Incredible!”

Logico wondered briefly why he suddenly felt a little warmer. Probably the blanket.

[chaos-monkeyy]

A perfect match...

…

In all the jobs you’ve taken over the millennia, this is definitely among the stranger requests.

But you have always relished a challenge.

“Very well,” you answer. It’s a mere moment or two of concentration for one so experienced as yourself to reshape your features to mimic the man in front of you— raised eyebrow, wry smirk, and ever-so-faint facial flush included— and Hoid’s eyebrows climb further.

You copy that, too, and he grins. Admittedly, it’s not perfect, you would need his skull to precisely imitate his rather intriguing bone structure... But he does, unfortunately, seem rather attached to it still.

“If you want the hair to match, I’ll need to go and change,” you tell him, glancing meaningfully up at his pure white head of hair. Yours in contrast is shimmering jet black, also straight but a touch shorter than his. And far better styled, frankly.

Hoid merely grins more widely, as though amused by a joke you don’t know the context for, and shakes his head. “No, this is perfect, actually.”

“Are there any other... liberties you’d like me to take?” You’re still absentmindedly tweaking the form while you ask, eyeing Hoid up and down with a practiced gaze to get the build and proportions right. The ones you can see while he remains fully-clothed, at least.

“Mm…” Hoid cocks his head in thought, and that same smirk twists his lips. “Actually, darken the skin a few shades, if you don’t mind. Wit always has been one of my best features.”

✨ Full ficlet and tags here on AO3 ✨

-

Amazing hoidcest art credit to @cosmereplay , and many thanks to everyone who egged me on with this one 😆💖

[chaos-monkeyy]

We did a damn good job with this one if I do say so myself, folks 🤤

Some notable tags include: cockwarming, somnophilia, collared, outdoor sex, edging, and of course... Sheppard gets Wrecked

SGA Fic: Cutting Loose (Lorne/Sheppard, Vegas AU verse; E-rated, ~9200 words), by @chaos-monkeyy and me

Summary: Evan gets a weekend of using Sheppard however the fuck he wants. John gets a weekend of being used. Everyone wins, really.

Notes: Latest in the Vegas Dirtbag!Lorne series. Heed the tags! (I love this fic so much)

Snippet: Evan had wondered if this was finally going to be the thing that pushed it too far, the thing Sheppard finally said no to. He’d worried, just a little, that by bringing up the offer he’d just be tipping his hand; giving away that he knew damn well he couldn’t keep stringing this out forever. 

He hadn’t needed to worry. Sheppard had asked a couple questions; mundane things like how long would the drive be and did the cabin have water and electricity. He’d mumbled that he needed to think about it. And then he’d said yeah okay, sure. 

And now here he is, slouched in the passenger seat of Evan’s truck and staring out the window at the countryside whipping by while Evan drives them out to the mountains. 

[chaos-monkeyy]

Short sleepy Veddie smut: Ease the Need

mini preview below, full ficlet on AO3!

Eddie’s not quite awake and not quite asleep.

He’s just awake enough to know that he’s horny as fuck; his dick’s hard and straining against his boxers and aimless need is hot and tight in his groin. But he’s too sleepy to do anything about it except roll half over onto his stomach and clumsily shove the front of his shorts down, pressing his freed cock into the bunched up covers while a slushy groan rises in his throat.

It’s enough to ease the need a little, and Eddie drifts on the hot, pulsing, slowly-building pleasure, his eyes shut and mouth open. He doesn’t even really notice he’s drooling into the pillow while softly grunted breaths spill from his lips, his hips rocking to rub his aching cock back and forth in the little divot of warm blankets and sheets he’s made for himself.

In the back of his mind, something stirs.

[chaos-monkeyy]

Finished that solo Captain Pike fic I've been poking at for awhile 😏

nice (mostly) wholesome PWP: With or Without Company

Explicit, full fic and tags on AO3, opening teaser below!

-

“Captain! Gaming night is my pick this evening, you in? It’s gonna be a gooood one.”

Pike stopped and turned at Ortegas’s call to see his pilot grinning at him expectantly from down the corridor. It was… tempting, the idea of relaxing, sharing a few drinks and laughs with a decent-size chunk of the crew. And he was just coming off-duty. But… He already had other plans, in truth. 

Just not ones he was about to share with anyone.

“Appreciate the offer, Lieutenant,” Pike answered with a smile and nod of thanks. “But I think I’m gonna make it an early night. Catch up on some sleep.”

Ortegas shrugged. “Suit yourself,” she said, with that little head tilt of polite disbelief.

“Kick some butt, Erica,” Pike said mock-solemnly and Ortegas laughed, her grin taking on a slightly alarming tinge of predatory glee.

“Oh, I plan to,” she answered. “Have a good night, sir!”

“Goodnight, Lieutenant.”

A few minutes later saw Pike finally entering his quarters and locking the door behind him with a sigh of relief. It had been a long day, wrapping up the end of a long mission, one that the Enterprise was now heading back from. None of it had gone badly, at least; though the boredom was, in some ways, more tiring than tense bouts of excitement or even danger.

But— though it was a little embarrassing to admit, even just in the privacy of his own head— Pike found the most difficult aspect of these long-haul missions, especially the quiet ones, was, well… Not getting laid for so long.

[chaos-monkeyy]

My latest original smut work, and another one that I had a ton of fun with 😁 I'd love to know what you think!

Trans M / Cis M, Explicit (naturally), a little shy of 4.5k words. SciFi/Fantasy, age difference + military rank difference. Also posted here on AO3 with full tags; no archive warnings apply.

Opening teaser:

“This is callsign: Gremlin, I’m going down, repeat, I’m going down! Can anyone hear me? Need search and rescue, send help, I’m going d—”

His own panicked voice, nearly drowned out by the rattling of his ship as the raging storm tossed him around in the air like a child’s toy, was the last thing Kyl heard before everything cut off in a crunch and the world went black around him.

—

The next thing he heard was a forlorn beeping. Blinking groggily as he came to, Kyl lifted his head and looked around.

The beeping was coming from the console of his one-person scout ship and the world was white now, instead of black. Wincing at the bright glare from the snowscape outside, he squinted through the half-crumpled, tilted canopy while the beeping finally warbled itself into silence.

There was nothing out there. Nothing to see but empty, windswept snow stretching to the horizon, the sun riding high in a pale aqua-blue clear sky. The last flickering lights on the ship’s console died a few seconds after the beeping did. Kyl groaned, the sound coming out as a faint croak.

Well, shit.

After a moment of sitting there with his eyes closed against the bright glare, Kyl took a deep breath and unbuckled his harness. He moved slowly, gingerly, certain he had to be injured and just wasn’t feeling it yet— but, to his surprise and relief, he seemed to be fine. Aside from a few strained muscles, some bruises from his seat harness, and just generally being shaken up by the crash landing, at least. 

First things first, then. Take stock. Forcibly pushing away the anxious worry tickling in the back of his mind— why had base gone radio silent on him like that? Had they even heard his call for help? And what the hell was he going to do if they hadn’t?— Kyl wiggled out of his seat and started rummaging through the interior wreckage of his ship.

There wasn’t all that much to search through; he’d headed out on what was supposed to be a routine one-day scouting mission, back by suppertime. He had maybe a day’s worth of water and rations. Two days if he made the supplies stretch. Nowhere near enough to try hiking back to base from this far out, though. Especially not without proper cold weather gear. He didn’t even have a jacket. And where one unexpected, unprecedented, furious storm had hit… Who knew what could come next.

Aside from the food and water, he also had a first aid kit he luckily didn’t need, save for the metallic emergency blanket folded up in the bottom of the kit. Kyl shivered as he repacked the kit minus the blanket, squinting out through the canopy again. Another howling gust of wind buffeted past, swirling up the snow and rocking the downed space craft with ominous creaking sounds. The wind whistled into the cockpit as well, Kyl noted uneasily, cold drafts coming in through the cracked plastiglass canopy and the buckled metal alike.

Well, first rule of survival: stay put if you can. Even if his mayday hadn’t gotten through to base, they had his planned flight path. Someone would find him soon, surely— hopefully— and from what his scans had been showing before the sudden and violent storm had swatted him out of the sky, from what he could see outside… his wrecked ship was probably the only shelter he’d have for kilometers around anyway.

So Kyl found the least drafty corner of the cockpit, wrapped himself tightly up in the emergency blanket, and settled in for what he hoped to hell would be a short wait.

—

It wasn’t exactly short, but it wasn’t too long either, all things considered, before someone did find him.

A little under a day and half after the crash at his best guess, Kyl was jolted out of fitful sleep by a loud banging sound on the outside of his crashed ship. He froze, relief and alarm warring foggily in his brain— what if it wasn’t his people; what if it was someone, or something, else who had found him? They were still exploring this planet, after all— but then a muffled voice called his name.

“Gremlin? Pilot! Answer me, Kyl, burn you!”

Kyl nearly fainted with giddy relief. He’d recognize that voice anywhere.…

[chaos-monkeyy]

Hob can't get enough.

Dream is stretched out before him, lithe and pale and panting, somehow demanding yet pliant all at once. He doesn't guide Hob with his hands-- those are up by his head, gripping loosely in the sheets and twisting in languid bliss with every lick and suck and hum of Hob's against bare, heated flesh.

He doesn't guide Hob with his legs, either; those are splayed out to either side, wide and inviting and needy. Instead Hob follows the urging of Dream's hips as they lift and rock and squirm in the slow, perfect torment of ever-building pleasure; the half-voiced, wordless demands that spill from Dream's parted, red lips with every moaning breath.

Hob draws it out as long as he can stand to, tasting, teasing, worshipping; until he's worked himself and Dream both into a sweaty entwined wreck of sheer need, teetering right on the brink of both too much and not enough.

And even after that edge is met and passed in shuddering waves of ecstasy; when Hob has collapsed, boneless, onto a languorously pleased Dream murmuring syrupy-soft words of praise into his ear...

Hob still can't get enough.

I need more pillow prince!morpheus, I love the ideia of such a powerful entity guving complete control to a human

also, he maybe the ruler of a realm, lord of dreams, king of nightmares and etc but he is the textbook definition of a pillow prince