#Remy's got a dirty mind

[rogueslove]

Gambit v.5 #11

[occamstfs]

In The Rink: Woodie

Travelling up North to visit his friend at the behest of his new hockey captain, Remy's in for quite a surprise when his friend has become quite the brute. More surprises await as it seems some intimate time together may just help him become part of the team himself.

Part two of my story for HairyJockTf! Dunks' domination streak seems to affect him off the court as well, not that Remy minds! The story continues off from In The Rink: Dunks! Hope you enjoy! -Occam

Remy really didn’t understand why Duncan was being so cagey? They used to be so close before he moved up here for work and now it’s been months since they texted. Thank God his teammate finally reached out and invited him up to visit! He even paid for a plane ticket which Remy thought was insane, but he’s not about to turn down the offer. He can’t wait to see the look on Duncan’s face when he surprises him haha! 

Shivering in the cold streets, Remy smiles as he sees his breath in the air. He can’t believe it’s already so cold up here, back home it won’t get this chilly for a couple more months! His mind keeps returning to Duncan and his excitement at their impending reunion. Remy wonders what Duncan told Matt about him to get him to reach out, though presumably in their correspondence he realized that their relationship is a little more complicated than just ‘friends’.

Finding Duncan’s apartment unlocked, just like Matt said he would, Remy enters and lays his stuff down on the coffee table. Immediately he struggles to not be too intrusive. It has been a while after all, he’d hate to learn something that Duncan wouldn’t want him to know. He pauses for a moment, like if he had a boyfriend. Remy chews on his lip as he realizes how stupid he was to come up at the insistence of some man he doesn’t know. Totally overstepping an unspoken boundary with Duncan. Matt must have told him. Duncan must know he’s here, right?

Overcoming his druthers, Remy sets about snooping through Duncan’s apartment. Promptly he’s floored at what a pigsty it is. Nothing like the prim and proper man he knew when they went to university together. Dirty dishes piled in the sink, pizza boxes and other to-go containers scattered around the kitchen, loads of unwashed clothes spilling out of a hamper. He was shocked when he heard his friend had gotten into hockey, but he never expected that he’d be so obsessed as to start living in filth? 

His phone goes off and he checks it to find an alarm he set as a five minute warning prior to when Matt said Duncan should be making it back to the apartment. Initially he set it so he’d have time to get in the mindset to see his ex, not ex, friend. But at the present moment nerves seem insurmountable so instead he decides to instead skip straight to preparing a gag that would diffuse tension. Eying a uniform laid out on the couch Remy smirks as he imagines how funny it would be if Duncan got home to see his oh so mousy friend ready to hit the rink himself!

This turned out to be foolhardy for a number of reasons. The first being that Remy was absolutely drowning in this jersey. He knew they were massive, what with the pads and all, but he can’t imagine Duncan would ever fit in this? It’s gotta be for a man at least a foot taller than he knows Duncan to be. Beyond that he isn’t sure if the coming in from the cold dulled his sense of smell or what, but as soon as he throws on that jersey he is bathed in the scent of a jersey that hasn’t been washed after months of heavy exercise.

Remy could barely stand as he’s overwhelmed by the scent of the uniform that now rests on his shoulders. His eyes water as a stink greater than that of every locker room he’s had the misfortune of spending time in combined blasts his sinuses. He races to plug his nose but the movement only wafts more of the musk baked into the crusty jersey towards his nose. Gagging similarly only increases his intake and in little time at all the musk of his friend has totally displaced air in his lungs. 

Growing shockingly lightheaded, the young man falls back onto the couch. While his mind is awash with Duncan’s b.o., the part of him that has long been the most preoccupied with his friend begins to stir. In no time at all his most precious cargo overrides rationality and cleanliness and asserts the upside to wearing Duncan’s sweat-stained uniform. After struggling to produce a hand from the oversized sleeves he promptly begins working his package through the thick material. Before he has nearly enough time to get off, but well enough for him to forget his friend is almost home. The door to the apartment cracks open and he jumps with a start and falls flat on his face, uncomfortably landing on the boner hidden beneath the jersey.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house.” Hesitating as he lies face down on the floor Remy is filled with fear as he realizes he does not recognize that voice. Far deeper than Duncan could muster with a head cold, duller than his sharp friend would ever care to present, and with an irritation so harsh it borders on rage. Remy slowly turns to look up at the man entering the space with a shy grin that immediately dissolves. Were he not already on the floor he would have doubled over from the shock.

That cannot be Duncan Worthy. Stumbling over words as his clumsy tongue tries to buy time to take in the behemoth standing over him, Remy squints his eyes and finds the faintest glimmer of familiarity in the brutish man, “D-Duncan?” His scowl harshens further as he closes the door and crosses arms that could knock Remy out with a flick, “Name’s Dunks, kid.” Squinting in return, he looks down as if they were having a competition; he moves to pick the mousy Remy up by the jersey. “‘N why are you wearing my shit punk?” 

Remy again stumbles over his words before trying to get a grip on the hem of the jersey almost hanging past his knees. Rolling his eyes and grimacing at the pathetic grunts of his home invader apparent as the small man is unable to get the jersey off over his head, Dunks steps in and wrenches it off, briefly holding Remy in the air as he slides out of the stained fabric. Looking at the blushing man, the few gears in Dunks’ struggling mind click into overdrive, “You a horny fan or what?” Remy balks, “What!? Duncan it’s me!”

Hearing himself referred to with his proper name once more brings a darkness into the athlete’s eyes, “Told you to call me Dunks. If you were a real fan you’d know that.” Remy pouts and stamps his foot, “I- Do you not recognize me Dunca- Dunks? It’s me, uhm, Remy? Remy Woods?” The brute scratches his beard and disrobes from the sweaty clothes he wore to the team’s practice. “Oh yeah uhhh, Kinger mentioned somethin’ about you bein’ in town.” Suddenly the look in his eyes grows even more clouded as he strides closer to Remy. 

Despite alarm bells going off at the sudden movement of this man that he can read about as well as a wild animal. Despite adrenaline suddenly coursing through him as he feels genuine fear. Despite the brusque man’s arms reaching to grab him, he is unable to act. Conflict between his mind’s knowing that he should retreat and his more primal, hornier id demanding he stay rooted to the spot. When his nose is hit with a fresh wave of Dunks’ musk his rational mind loses whatever thin grasp it held on the reins and Remy becomes putty in the beast’s hands

“Been a while Woods. Seems like you're still obsessed with me eh?” Remy grumbles something unintelligible in protest but he lacks the coherence or care to even dispute the assertion. Dunks’ smirk grows wide and wicked as he continues, “And now you’ve followed me all this way to join the team huh? Hope you’re ready for a first taste.” Awareness returns to Remy’s mind at this bizarre statement, join the team? What on Earth did King tell him? “Uhm I’m not so sUR-” Unfortunately for his barely reemergent reason, he is interrupted as Dunks forces his head into his pits. “Yeah get a nice good breath.”

Remy struggles in the clutches of his once-friend, unable to make any headway against biceps the size of his thighs. He pushes with all his meager might but with each struggled breath he loses the willpower to do anything but delight in the odor. His mouth was open when he was shoved in shouting in protest, but now his tongue lances out to join in the rapture of Dunks’ post-practice pits. 

“Yeah I bet you like that fucker, that’ll put some hair on your fuckin’ twink chest huh.” With that he removes Remy from his pit and tosses him back onto the couch. Mind foggy from being anesthetized by Dunks’ musk, Remy has little recourse than to grovel on the couch and await whatever else the man standing over him sees fit, the bulge struggling against his already strained underwear makes it more than clear what he desires.

Dunks falls on top of him, taking care not to truly crush the smaller man as he lies beneath, moaning mindlessly. For his part the athlete’s eyes are shut as he imagines the prone man hes grinding against to be wearing a uniform, “Bet you can’t even fuckin’ carry your pads huh bitch.” Remy’s arms grope at the massive man’s hairy back as he thrusts against his own still clothed chest, barely able to move at all he struggles to remove his top now stained in Dunks’ sweat.

Doing so he finds something impossible, Dunk’s words have struck true, as the man’s meaty chest pushes into his own he feels a smattering of thick curls begin to meet them, causing friction and unfamiliar scratching. Through bleary eyes he sees Dunks’ smile grow wider. The athlete’s own mouth suddenly desiring a taste of the man he’s grinding against, Dunks leans down and begins aggressively discovering what his prey tastes like. Dragging his tongue across Remy’s hitherto hairless jaw he laughs as he feels it scratch against the first sign of stubble as it begins to break ground that shall never be clean shaven again. 

Imagining the playoff beard his bro, his teammate, will grow sends a stabbing, hungered pain into Dunks’ chest. Gritting his teeth his head trails down to Remy’s neck as he tries to inhale the first heady breath of musk that his new goalie’s body will begin to produce any second now. Impatient as he smells nothing besides himself, he almost growls as his head remains tucked behind the smaller man’s neck. His teeth move across it as his mouth opens, canines grazing Remy’s neck as he struggles not to give the moaning man a hickey powerful enough to strike him unconscious.

Beard scratching against new stubble, Jungle of chest hair tangling itself with the new forest growing on Remy’s chest, his massive cock frotting against his new goalie’s burgeoning bulge, Dunks grunts and takes a quivering breath as he is on the precipice of release he has not been allowed since he first stepped onto the rink. Pausing his momentum to ensure he enjoys the moment he has so awaited, the goliath leans in close to whisper into the ear of Remy. “Welcome to the team Woodie.”  

At that both men lose control. Cum streaks across Woodie’s awaiting stomach and pollinates a new oasis of hair that is to flourish on his torso for the rest of his life. Thick curls spread to capture the width of his stomach as it bulges outward with strength enough to hastily throw himself to stop any rushing puck. His own cock still imprisoned in the pants he traveled in prevents his load from escaping, allowing it to soak into his own blooming garden of pubes as they grow thicker than the hair of head on either man.

His mind rearranges itself to lose the dead weight of a life he will never return to as it fills with new instinct and abilities to dominate on the ice rink. Countless pucks blocked, myriad hours standing overwatch at the net, working out with his Captain Kinger and his other half Dunks. The couch underneath the two men creaks as Woodie bloats larger, gut filling out as it is quickly patterned with dark hair, shoulders widening to support weighter arms that are to evermore hide an expansive patch of pit hair, and the gem of it all an explosive hockey player’s ass.

Both men laugh as the seams blast off Woodie’s underwear and this thick cock is finally exposed. His cock bursts larger, escaping from his dense pubes and standing high above hairy balls that make one wonder if he’ll be able to fit in normal pants. On the other side the sheer size of his ass and thighs that are destined to rub together spell an end to any jeans that are not custom made, sculpted to fit around his dedicated physique. 

Seeing his quarry become the perfect teammate, Dunks feels his eternal need to dominate begin to rise. His calloused hands claw into the meaty hocks that compromise Woodie’s lats and with a smirk the newest member of the team does likewise before pitching to toss both men off the couch. Still groaning and convulsing with a body continuing to stain hairier and surge larger, the men begin to wrestle.

Their cocks remain out in the fray, twitching with anticipation as the two men frot in between holds and grunting thrusts. Woodie’s new expanding thicket of  body hair is stuck to his body with sweat as the two men rapidly wrestle for supremacy. Dunks’ brute strength makes it clear that the newbie doesn’t stand a chance. Twitching in his other half’s grasp a headache sears his mind as memories of watching Dunks absolutely demolish people on the rink. 

But it’s not over yet, the goalie’s got more of a head on his thick shoulders. Tactfully exposing his pit to get the oaf’s attention, which instantly works as the oaf hungrily stares mouth agape. Remy stretches his foot towards the enforcer’s bulging equipment bag. Shaggy leg stretching longer, he hooks his foot on the bag and yanks it, causing Dunks’ equipment to spill everywhere.

Only, that looks an awful lot like his own stuff doesn’t it? Gasping as he sees goalie pads, lustful fog abates from Dunks eyes as he sucks up some drool and follows Woodie’s eyeline, “Oh yeah huhuh, Kinger wanted me to bring you your stuff since you skipped out on practice ya-” Woodie promptly pushes to escape from the burly defenders clutches and after a grumble at his not playing fair, he assuages.

Possessed with a desire to try on his new stuff, Woodie races to the bag. Throwing on pieces as soon as he drags them out he’s made giddy feeling a compression shirt hug his powerful new curves and constrict his dynamo biceps. Woodie feels almost as overwhelmed with delight as when he and Dunks get the chance to fuck. It just feels right. Rubbing his tight, compressed torso and feeling the thick jungle of hair pressing through it, his mind restructures itself to hold hockey above anything else, everything else. Plays replace birthdays, techniques eviscerate his schooling, honed skill ousts neat handwriting, cleanliness, and any other marks of Remy Woods’ once-prim self.

Scratching at his stubble as it begins to thicken into a playoff beard to be proud of he starts digging through the equipment bag as if it were Christmas day. Dunks sidles alongside and pouts with some jealousy, whether it's for Woodie getting treats or for his teammate paying more attention to goodies than himself is unclear. Though seeing his bro light up as he yanks out a helmet any ill will vacates as he too is filled with joy at the grin on Woodie’s face. His hands shake as he goes to put on the helmet, eyes almost crossed with the irrational need to wear his uniform. 

Hair shoots up his neck as soon as the helmet graces his head. Thick itchy strands paint the entirety of his nape as his uniform sends tendrils of growth through him that are to evermore leave him as hairy as wildman. The fur on his arms and legs may be hidden with pads but beneath his faceguard and inching up from his pelted back is hair thick enough to instantly clog a drain or render a razor unusable, not that he would know that. Why would he want to shave? 

Hunger returns to the eyes of Dunks as he struggles to control his breathing and hold back from pouncing as Woodie finally finishes his emergence as the perfect goalie, the perfect partner for himself. Mouth shut to prevent from gnashing his teeth in wanton abandon, he yanks Woodie close and rubs his face against Woodie’s permanently scratchy neck, causing him more pleasure than is reasonable. Taking deep panting breaths and smelling musk enough to rival his own emanating from Woodie, drool drips and his eyes fog up as he almost feels ferality rising within him. 

Hearing the shift into some primal consciousness within Dunks, and feeling his hands tighten their grasp on his jersey, Woodie struggles to imagine a better way to break in his uniform. His mind flickers with the countless hours spent in the locker room after practice doing just that, shouts of ‘get a room’ from Kinger and their other teammates and raised middle fingers in response as they continue to make out. Blush burns bright enough to be seen through his dense beard as he feels Dunks’ tongue against his neck as it begins to trail its way up to his mouth. Woodie discards his helmet and turns to join in the fun.

The only thing that matters more to either man than time on the rink is enjoying the presence of each other. Present, in reality, for the first time in their true powerful furry forms, the hockey players find their schedules unsurprisingly open. With just under a day until they need to return to the arena the two men intend to spend every second they can in each other arms, wrestling and fucking in equal measure. Strengthening their bond like soldiers, the two athletes become more than the sum of their parts and find as much sexual gratification in their other half as they will find success on the rink. 

Kinger couldn’t wish for more skillful, or masculine teammates. With a pair of teammates as dedicated as himself on the field it's only a matter of time before they win at all. They are sure to begin a new dynasty in the sport. If not, hey, Kinger could find as many all-star players as they need. The next teammate is just a uniform away.

[an-anonymous-reader]

Title: Strawberry Roses and Sunset Dances

Characters: Remy LeBeau (Gambit), Rogue, Fem Reader

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Rogue/Reader

Request: Not a Request

Rating: Fluff

Reader Information: Reader is over-weight, how much is up to the imagination! Reader uses She/Her pronouns, is AFAB, and has short brown hair, though that detail isn't mentioned. Mutation makes it so that she can change her own gravity, making it so she can float through the air if she so chooses to!

| Ao3 Link |

I gasped in shock, my eyes widening as I was very suddenly lifted off of the ground and into the air. There was a momentary moment of shock before I tried to struggle. I wouldn’t get hurt if I were to fall from any height, perk of my mutation I supposed.

“Calm down suga’ or ah’ll drop ya.” Immediately I was still, a smile appearing on my face as Rogue readjusted her grip on me. Was I immediately feeling self conscious? Absolutely, but Rogue had a way of making me just not care when she was carrying me. “There we go.”

“Rogue!” I whined, trying to turn my head enough to see her face, though the angel at which we were wasn’t really allowing for that. I pouted, though I closed my eyes when we got a little high in the air. Still, I stayed pouting with my head tilted back and I had no doubts that she could see my expression.

The fact was only proven as we’d started to lower, which no doubt had Rogue looking down, and a laugh escaped her.

“Awe, did ah make you flushed?” Rogue teased lightly. My eyes snapped open into a playful glare, which Rogue only laughed more at. I was pleased that I could see her expression at least. She looked excited, which had me curious.

“Ah, dere you both are!” I looked down, finding that we were much closer to the ground than I had initially thought. I smiled when I saw Remy, dressed casually with a picnic set up behind him. “Was wondering when you would get here, chère.”

“Hi Remy,” Rogue landed the both of us on the ground, carefully kissing my head in my hair, a caution despite Rogue having a bit more control over her powers. “Anna-Marie picked me up outta nowhere, what’s going on?”

“Hi chère,” Remy laughed lightly as he darted forward, pressing a kiss to my forehead, lingering momentarily before moving and giving a small peck to Rogue’s cheek.

I smiled sweetly as Rogue flushed red and adopted a, what I would personally call, love sick smile. I couldn’t blame her, Remy was bursting with love to shower on the both of them and he expressed it so freely.

“What’s going on, suga’, is that Remy and ah decided it’d been too long since we’d all been on a date.” Rogue chuckled, trying to pull me towards the blanket spread out on the ground. I flushed slightly, as Remy wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I was properly sandwiched in between them, with Rogue’s arm still being around my waist.

“A date? I’m most certainly not dressed for a date.” I laughed nervously. It was true, in my opinion at least. My shirt had a stain on it, and my shorts were dirty from sitting in the dirt all day while gardening.

“Quite contraire, Remy t’inks you are perfectly dressed for a date.” Remy responded as Rogue got to the blanket. If there was one thing I’d learned in the last few months of dating the two of them, was that there was no arguing with them when their minds were set on something. If they thought I was dressed for a date, there was going to be no changing their minds.

“Now, let’s sit down.” Rogue had given me no choice, instead pulling me down into her lap when she decided to sit down, I yelped, and struggled momentarily to climb off of her lap much to her amusement.

Rogue was much, much stronger than I was.

“I’m heavy, Anna-”

“No you ain’t, suga’.” Rogue cut me off, giving a hard look towards me, which I very quickly looked away from. Remy was also giving a similar look, I didn’t know when he’d sat down. “Ah don’t care how heavy you think you are or that scale says, you ain’t heavy.” Rogue continued, placing her chin on my shoulder. I flushed lightly, though I did relax back against Rogue.

“Good.” Remy nodded, turning and grabbing the basket and putting it in the center of where everyone was sitting. “Remy got da strawberries!” He exclaimed, and a burst of excitement rushed through me. Strawberries were my absolute favorite, oh and covered in chocolate too?

“Oh, Remy, are they cut into flowers?” Rogue asked, amusement coloring her voice.

“And covered in chocolate, oh my gods, Remy!” I gasped happily, eyes wide as I spotted the absolute tray of strawberries. There was dark chocolate, white chocolate, milk chocolate, and plain strawberries, and below that? Banana slices with a similar set up. Bananas were a second favorite of mine too, and if memory served correctly, they were Remy’s favorite too.

Apparently, Rogue didn’t have a favorite fruit. I thought that was bullshit, since I’d regularly caught her sneaking apples from wherever they’d been stored on that particular day.

Remy laughed lightly, setting out the several containers of food underneath the strawberries and bananas. Rogue had grabbed a strawberry covered in dark chocolate and offered it to me. I flushed brightly but accepted that she was absolutely going to attempt, and probably succeed in, pampering me.

“Well, it was definitely somet’ing Remy had ta learn, chère.” He winked when he offered a wrapped sandwich towards me, which I accepted gratefully. It was more than obvious that the two of them had this planned, despite the fact that they were clearly trying to play it off as a spontaneous decision.

“How long did it take ya?” Rogue asked, accepting a sandwich handed to her as well. I hoped that he’d packed a salad for me as well, though knowing Remy he absolutely did not. He didn’t believe in dieting and thought that me being bigger just meant that there was so much more of me to love. Rogue definitely shared the sentiment.

“Two hours.” Remy nodded, a smile on his face.

“I think that it’s very sweet, Remy.” I smiled, blowing him a kiss before opening my sandwich. He smiled in what I would normally consider shy, however after seven months of dating, I knew that he was just being coy. I smiled happily when I saw the pieces of bacon, a classic slightly grilled BLT that I had no doubt that Remy had to learn how to make.

“Eat, eat, eat,” Rogue commanded. This time when I attempted to move off of her lap, she allowed me to do so, though there was a pout on her face that conveyed she really hadn’t wanted to.

“Sorry, love, but you need to eat too.” I teased, though I was more relaxed now. I winked at her, smiling as Remy pulled out three water bottles, though I had no idea what they were filled with. I smiled as I took a bite of my sandwich, humming happily.

There was a gentle breeze blowing as they ate, and I chuckled when Remy pulled out a speaker and his phone, and music started playing for them, he never could stand silence for very long. And there was no doubt in my mind that we were all going to end up dancing before they could finish enjoying the food that they’d prepared.

I was right, though it had been much sooner than expected when Remy had pushed his paper plate, one which I had missed him grabbing, off to the side and jumped up.

“A danser, chère?” He asked, a hand prompted out to me. I quickly finished the bite I had just taken, letting Rogue steal my sandwich to rest on Remy’s plate, before I let Remy pull me up from the blanket. A dance didn’t sound half bad.

Rogue laughed lightly when Remy tripped, something that I figured was on purpose given his cat-like grace doing just about anything else. I snickered as he righted himself, though I flushed brightly when he pulled me flush against his chest, one hand on my waist while the other held one of my hands in his. I quickly rested a hand on his shoulder, like I’d seen in the movies as Remy began to lead me in a dance.

Dancing with Remy was different to anything I’d done before, whereas as a child I’d done ballet and more pop style of dancing, Remy seemed to have been all classical. Though, maybe he did ballet too, at some point in his life. He seemed to be all about wanting to stay close, staying in a ballroom sort of movement despite the music not at all matching.

I looked up, catching a fond smile on Remy’s face as he stared down at me. His red eyes seemed even brighter in the setting sun, and the black that surrounded them seemed almost lighter than before.

“I don’t dance classical, Remy.” I uttered with a laugh as I tripped over my feet. The hand on my waist disappeared to wrap around my lower back.

“That’s alright, chère, it’s all ‘bout da fun, oui?” Remy asked, and I would have rolled my eyes if Rogue hadn’t taken the time to literally fly in and steal me from him. It had been a surprise, and I yelped as she quite literally swiped me off my feet, and by the brief glance I had of Remy’s face, he most definitely hadn’t been expecting that either.

“Rogue! Dat’s not fair!” Remy cried out. Rogue and I only laughed as she took us a little higher in the sky.

[sideysvault]

⋆˚࿔ Bedroom Lust with Roman Roy 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Pairing: Roman Roy x wife!reader

Wc: 615

Warnings: [nsfw]. minors dni, head cannons, established relationship, married life.

────────

- Marrying Roman Roy involved being his plus one to numerous events. Evening galas, fundraisers, openings and birthday parties of people you didn't even remember meeting. He hated all of it. But seeing the wind biting the skin exposed by your countless party dresses almost made up for it. He still got goosebumps when he saw you.

- He was extremely aware of how his wife looked. Too bright, too beautiful for a room full of snakes parading as business people. He was proud of you. Proud of your cleverness, and your looks, and your morals. He enjoyed parading you around at parties with his hand on your lower back. A lot of heads turned, and eyes that trailed downward, but you were his. Only his.

- She was always complaining about his beard. And, as much as he liked it, the conversation ended when you said “I hate it Romes, it tickles when you go down on me” That was all he needed to hear. The very next day, he showed up with a clean, freshly shaven face. You made sure to make it up to him and sat on his face all night.

- You are always using pet names for him. Especially in the bedroom. You want to make him feel as much love as he deserves. At the beginning of your relationship, he wasn’t very sexual. It took a long time, trust, and patience to get to where you were right now. But you didn't mind. All you wanted was for him to enjoy himself while feeling safe and secure. And so it began. Love, Remy, Romey, Babe, Sweetie…

- Stamina wasn’t a problem anymore. Roman particularly enjoyed eating you out. He just wanted to shower you with affection and thank you for being such a good wife. The man loves eating your pussy. If the cooks are not at home, he'll do it on the kitchen counter over breakfast. He makes time and takes a shower together just so he can have you standing up while he's on his knees licking all of you. He loves when you cum all over his face. No matter how dirty and wet he gets afterwards.

- Having power over you is also a turn on. He’d tie you up so you can’t move, not letting you cum, edging you until you beg and cry. He has even dwell in some consensual somnophilia with you.

- But he can be romantic too. Roman will buy you the most expensive lingerie and leave it all around the house for you to find. He would kiss every inch of you. Your face, your stomach, your legs, everything. As lovingly as he can.

- As much as Roman Roy knows he would be an awful father, it is hard to remember it when he is pounding into his wife’s wet pussy. He adores watching his cum fill you up, and you adore the sensation of it overflowing out of your pussy. (He definitely licks you clean after it).

- He loved how easily you teared up. You were so sensitive. When he is done with you, the makeup that adorned your pretty face always looks smudged.

- Sometimes, in another one of your fancy dinners, you make sure to wear one of his favorite dresses with nothing underneath. Opening your legs under the table for him to enjoy. From time to time, you wore a vibrator in public events. Roman loves seeing you try to compose yourself in front of everyone. How red your face gets. How raspy are the words that come out of your mumbling mouth. If you behave well enough, he goes on his knees yet again and rewards you at the venue’s bathroom.

Notes: Hello Anon! I really tried with this one! It’s my first time writing any type of smut. Hope you enjoyed it. It ended up being something a bit different from what you asked. But thank you so much for taking time to read my Roman posts. I’ve been missing the succession fandom so much. Take care! - Sidey xoox

Based on this request.

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

So I mentors Scott and Remy and there can we assume older sisters Jean and Rouge?

𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐗…

!!! GN reader, telepathic manipulation, overprotectiveness, mentions of comas, sickeningly sweet Jean, trackers, stalker Rogue-ish, infantilism, hints of Scott/Jean and Remy/Rogue (we all know Jean and Rogue wear the pants in their respective relationships and it lowkey shows here).

My eyes have been opened to a world of possibilities I didn’t even know existed.

If you’re someone who doesn’t take well to overbearing and strict yanderes, you may find yourself wondering why you would even bother sticking around Scott (cuz, y’know, you still think you have a say in the matter). The answer is simple: Jean. She comes and talks to you whenever Scott accidentally says something too harsh, softly assuring you that he didn’t mean any harm… he just has a hard time showing he cares! Don’t worry, dear. Jean will talk to him for you, and then all three of you can see about doing something fun later, okay?

She’s just so kind and considerate… it makes you forget she’s a telepath that can easily manipulate you into compliance.

Her and Scott are like the Yandere power couple. One’s an authoritative presence that can keeps you in line while the other offers you honey-sweet consolation afterwards. If you ever find yourself in any trouble, Jean can easily pinpoint your location for Scott to absolutely annihilate whoever or whatever the threat is. Though keep in mind that Jean isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty, too. The only reason Scott throws all the punches instead of her is merely because he’s quicker to get his blows in. Should it be a situation where Scott isn’t there, Momma Jean is handing out comas like it’s the damn Oprah Winfrey show.

“I’ve got you, dear,” she’ll coo at you while stepping over a catatonic FOH bigot. “It’s okay. I’ll always be here for you.”

AND ROGUE, MAN. She finds you to be the cutest thing ever. Of course she’s gonna help Remy mentor you!! No one is even allowed to tease you including Remy, much to his chagrin when she’s around, unless they wanna fear for their own personal safety. She’ll be like, “WHAT IN THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING,” and if you flinch, she immediately switches up to the soft voice like, “oh, not you, sugah!! :)” and then it’s back to chewing out the poor soul who thought they could fuck with you.

She would definitely compliment Remy’s mentoring style well. I can see her chaperoning your little late night patrols, acting as a semi-voice of reason should trouble arise, but not actually stopping any of shenanigans afoot. As long as nothing happens to you, she’s pretty much your chill vodka aunt that bickers with Remy like they’re an old married couple. There’s kind of a mini feud between them to see who can shower you in the most love and affection, so expect a lot of gifts and physical contact.

Of course, like Remy, Rogue wants to know where you are 24/7. She’s privy to the tracking devices in your clothes, though she doesn’t check it constantly like Remy does, as she makes it a habit to always be near you. Mission assignments and direct orders have no effect on her; she’s gonna keep you in her line of sight no matter what anyone tells her. And of course this helps out Remy’s anxiety significantly. Rogue is basically the only person he trusts to keep you safe in his stead, so knowing she’s somewhere near you helps him breathe easier.

Now, there’s this weird contradiction in her own philosophy with you. As opposed to Remy’s “they’re just a petit trognon,” she likes to think of you as a big kid… in a very infantilizing way. It’s almost akin to a parent validating their 7 year old’s yearning for responsibility, where she wants you to believe you’re in control while still obviously babying you in the process. Of course you’re old enough to go to the mall on your own. But Rogue wants to go with you!! Not as a chaperone; you don’t need a chaperone, since you’re a big kid, right? It’s just that Rogue also wants to go to the mall!! For totally separate reasons, sugah!! Promise!!

I definitely see her and Jean doing this. They wanna create the illusion of treating you with respect but never actually giving it to you. For Jean, it might actually fly under the radar when considering she’s basically the Team Mom™ to begin with, not to mention Scott’s overbearing strictness possibly overshadowing her own weird behaviors (a little telepathic manipulation here and there also helps out). But in Rogue’s case, it may be a little more conspicuous. Her normally rough exterior completely melts when it comes to you, since you’re just the sweetest little thang ever!! She can’t help it!!

All four together are a wild ride. You have your strict dad, sweet mom, chill uncle, and batshit crazy aunt, all mixing together into this weird cacophony of accidental coparenting. While Scott and Remy don’t really get along with each other, I actually think Jean and Rogue would easily come to an understanding. They both think you’re adorable and want to viciously tear apart whoever wants to lay a finger on you. A completely normal common goal!! Jean will hand you over to Rogue like, “be a good dear for auntie” while preventing Scott from lunging at Remy with her telekinesis. This is just so fun, the five of you are a dysfunctional family that all of the other X-Men are forced to watch with absolute horror on their faces (and they don’t even know the full extent of how weird it is).

I’m so soft for this idea. I wish I could get darker, but I yearn for the comfort of Momma Jean and Taunty Rogue, SOBS.

[shadowphoenixrider]

Skin Deep (1/2)

(Oops fell down Gambit rabbit hole and maybe self-inserted myself to ship with him. No ship in this one; consider this an intro fic for my insert, as well as some flexing for my other areas of knowledge. Not gory but you're gonna get some specific descriptions of injuries, do take care.)

Thick, metallic blood spilled over his tongue, swilling around his teeth and staining them crimson.

Gambit spat it out, wiping the drool from his lips. His body ached, fatigue and wounds draining strength from him like a cloud of mosquitos. He felt something sharp and searing in his chest whenever he breathed in, not pulling as much air as he wanted. Not for the first time he envied Wolverine's regeneration. His kinetic energy manipulation was at least keeping him on his feet, and that was the main thing right now.

Gambit had been following up on a lead that one of the Friends of Humanity had gotten it into their head to attempt to wire a Sentinel blaster into themselves. Said guy had decided to do some tests on the first unlucky mutant he came across, and Gambit had to intervene.

Turned out half-Sentinel, half bigot was a really, really bad combination, and although the Cajun had prevailed, he would heartily prefer not to repeat the experience. He winced as he lifted his hand to his mouth, trying not to acknowledge the deep gash into his palm oozing dark blood and that uncurling his fingers was not only difficult, but extremely painful.

"Gambit to team," he spoke wearily into his comm, "dealt wit de problem, if someone could send for clean-up, be much appreciated."

"You don't sound too good Remy, are you alright?" Jean replied. He shrugged off the attempt to connect with his mind.

"Gambit felt better, but he be fine." He looked down the alleyway. "Gotta check on the mutant, see if they're ok."

Gambit didn't wait for a response, carefully making his way with a little help from his bo staff in his good hand. As the adrenaline died away from him, the pain increased, and he almost regretted not letting Jean into his head. Almost.

"It be safe now, mon ami." He called as loud as his chest would let him. "That guy won't be botherin' you again."

There was movement by a dumpster, and a small woman emerged. She was fair-skinned, no taller than Wolverine, if that; with thick brown curly hair tumbling down her neck and blue eyes. Her black hoodie and dark blue jeans were dirty and slightly scorched from the initial confrontation, but she seemed no worse for wear. Gambit breathed a sigh of relief, trying to mask his pain behind a charming smile.

"Thank you," she said, "if you hadn't been here, I-" She stopped suddenly, tilting her head as if she heard something Gambit could not. He wondered for a second if she was telepathic, and immediately shielded himself behind a wall of reassuring thoughts. "You're hurt."

"Got roughed up pretty good, but Gambit gonna be fine, petite." He replied in what he hoped was a laisse-faire tone. "No need to worry 'bout him."

She frowned, completely unconvinced.

"You're hurt pretty badly Gambit," she said, stepping forward. Her eyes hadn't moved from him for a second. "I can help you, if you want me to."

His eyes flicked over her. She didn't look like a medic, but Gambit had long since learned that looks can be deceiving. Sometimes literally.

"Dat your power?" He asked uncertainly. "Healin'?"

"Yes, mostly." Another step closer. "Please Gambit, it's my fault you're like this, let me at least repay the favour."

"Not your fault you be in the wrong place at da wrong time, petite." He replied, wincing as his chest burned on another inhale. "If not you, woulda been someone else. Gambit woulda done this for anyone."

"Okay, but regardless, please let me help fix this. It's the least I could do for you."

As wary as the Cajun felt towards this unknown mutant, discomforted by her noncommittal answer, he found himself too weary to argue the point.

"Alright. Jus' go easy, ok? That fight was rougher on Gambit than he expected."

"Sure." She nodded. "Let's sit down, it'll be easier for the both of us."

They sat against the wall of a red brick building, the relief of the weight off his feet quickly swallowed by the pain of all of Gambit's other injuries.

"Got a name, petite?" He asked as the young woman knelt beside him, tucking her feet underneath herself.

"Uh, Shadow."

Gambit arched an eyebrow.

"'Shadow'?"

She shot him a nonplussed look, raising her own dark eyebrow at him.

"I'm sorry, I'm not exactly in the habit of sharing my true name with strangers." An apologetic half-smile softened her expression. "Even other mutants. Besides, 'Gambit' isn't your true name either, is it?"

He chuckled, despite his pain. Oh, she's got some fire.

"True enough, petite. True enough."

Shadow reached out to him, before hesitating.

"Um. Would it be alright if you rolled up your sleeve?" She asked, the top of her cheeks flushing pink. "Sorry, I just find this easier skin-to-skin."

Gambit smirked, unable to resist.

"You know, there be easier ways to get Gambit's shirt off, petite." He was delighted to see Shadow's blush deepen, even more when she began to stutter. "Jus' razzin' ya, mon amie." He chuckled. "Here." Gambit pushed up his coat and armour sleeve, exposing pale skin.

Shadow scooted a little closer, and gingerly wrapped her hands around his muscled arm. A glow shone out under her skin, flowing down the veins into her hand and fingers. Gambit's gaze lifted curiously to her face, watching her closely. Her own gaze unfocused, eyes glazing over as she seemingly sank into a trance.

Suddenly black filled her eyes, coating her sclera the colour of midnight, whilst her irises turned the bright crimson of blood. For a brief moment, Gambit saw his eyes in another's face, before they rolled back and under her closing eyelids.

---

Shadow hadn't really known what to expect from her rescuer, except maybe he was friend, and could go toe-to-toe with the bastard that had decided her life was forfeit. But certainly not the tall, black and red eyed man that now sat next to her.

Gambit, as he referred to himself as, had taken quite the beating in her stead - his pink breastplate had a large impact crack over his chest, black leathers and trenchcoat torn and scorched, and his right hand curled up into an awkward claw, blood dripping through his gloves.

Despite his attempt at good humour and to fluster her, Shadow knew he was badly hurt. She'd heard it, the now familiar trilling noise that lived just on the edge of her hearing - like it came from under her ear, itching at her bones. It was loud, underscoring every word they'd exchanged, and seemed to peak with every breath he took.

She took a breath, centring herself as she wrapped her hands around Gambit's muscled arm, feeling his warmth. The warmth mingled with hers, and she let the trilling get louder, louder, filling her ears until it was all she could hear. The world blurred as she felt her power rise within her, focusing on the skin under her hands, the pulse under her fingertips.

The sound crescendoed into a ringing song, heat flooding up her body, punctuated by her heartbeat pounding in her ears, her body becoming alive and on end, as if she could feel the molecules in the air around her, every piece of clothing on her body-

And then she was him.

Gambit's deeper heartbeat boomed through her, the rush of his breath, the pressure of the protective armour against his skin, and what had to be the warm hum of his powers, permeating everything about him.

It was always disorientating, moving into another's body, suddenly being aware of every cell and their 'voices', all speaking at once. Especially someone whose nerves were screaming with pain, so immediately Shadow hushed them quiet. She needed to think, to triage.

Her attention was caught by a raspy inhale, the now duller yet urgent throb from his lungs. She moved her awareness up, feeling - a pneumothorax of his left lung, the air trapped inside grating against him with each movement. Thankfully it wasn't too large - the cuirass had done its job - and Shadow focused. The cells responded, drawing the air out into themselves, his lung expanding to its full capacity. Shadow felt the relief flood through him, and she 'smiled'. One down.

Her patient now much more comfortable, Shadow spread her awareness into the neural network, seeking the next trouble point.

His right hand came next, and she followed fibres down towards the site. It wasn't pretty. A gaping laceration had been torn in his palm, deep enough it had nicked a vein, and the tendons had almost been cut in half - thus why Gambit was holding his hand so. Luckily the other structures were fine, so Shadow moved first to the vein, smoothing the walls closed. She heaved the excess blood up and out of the wound, clearing her working area and lowering the pressure in the fairly tight quarters. To the tendons now - the hanging fibres she took and gently wound them together again, melding the joins into one.

She tested her work, tugging the muscle fibres gently to make them uncurl - Gambit resisted her at first, but then he moved them himself, the tendons sliding smoothly and easily. Shadow was already moving on though, pulling the edges of the wound together; flesh grew and reached towards itself, knitting back together, layer by layer until nothing remained of what had been.

Shadow continued this for what felt to her like hours - letting Gambit's nerves call her from site to site, soothing contusions, closing superficial grazes, sealing up the gash in his mouth (having to hold his tongue still to stop it interfering with its curiosity), quietening the aches and pains as she went. All the time she felt his power humming against her, oddly warm and strangely comforting. She wondered what it was.

When she received no more pain signals, Shadow concluded her job was done. She began to focus again, pulling away from the symphony of sounds and the mutant warmth, away, away...and out.

Shadow opened her eyes with a start, pulling in a gasp, grounded once more in her own body. After a second to get her bearings (alleyway, floor, handsome man, the fight! holding his arm), she released her grip on Gambit, looking up at his face.

---

Gambit would deny it to his dying day, but he was staring. Being an X-Man meant you encountered a lot of very strange things, ranging from aliens to time travellers to telepaths; it was very easy to become inured to it.

And yet this mutant's powers were something new, something strange. He'd not really known entirely what to expect from the young woman's healing power, but he certainly wouldn't have expected this.

After Shadow had entered her trance, Gambit had felt weird. Like there was someone else under his skin with him, a sensation just on the edge of discomfort.

The pain had eased though, and then the magic had started happening. After the burning in his chest had stopped, Gambit had watched his injured hand disgorge blood like vomit, before it started to knit itself back together in front of his very eyes. The Cajun had been discomforted when his fingers started to uncurl without his control, before he realized that they'd been fixed, the movement as smooth as if it'd never been injured.

And so it'd gone, Gambit feeling like he was being refreshed from the inside out, the discomfort of a second consciousness inside him now feeling like inner guardian, even though it still made him feel like his skin didn't fit him anymore.

When the last of the pain had ebbed away, so had the feeling - then the woman (Shadow, Gambit reminded himself) had startled back awake.

She blinked hard, then looked up him - with his eyes.

Gambit was very rarely at a loss for words, yet here he was, completely tongue-tied. Although his tongue had become frozen in his mouth briefly when the gash on his inner cheek had been closing, he was pretty sure she'd given him control back. Pretty sure, anyway.

"Gambit?" She asked, dark brown brows furrowing. "Are you alright?"

"Vous yeux..." He murmured, gesturing with his finger.

She blinked, confused, and that's when the black and red started bleeding out of her eyes, returning them back to what Gambit assumed was their natural blue and white.

"Eyes, petite." He repeated. "Dey looked like mine."

"Oh. Yeah, that tends to happen when I connect to someone." Shadow folded her arms, looking away. "Dunno why. I think it's just a side-effect."

Sounds from the entrance of the alleyway had Gambit glance away, a smirk pulling at his lips.

"Looks like the rest of my team finally showed up." He looked back to a now tensed up Shadow, and he reached to place his healed hand on her arm. "Dey all mutants like us. You safe wit dem."

"Gambit, what happened here?" Cyclops's voice sounded out behind him, the Cajun glancing at him from the corner of his eyes. He didn't bother to stand up. "And who's this?"

"Couyon back there try'n become a mini-Sentinel, decided to test his toys out on this one." Gambit explained, nodding towards Shadow. "Gambit made sure she safe, though it got a bit messy."

"A bit?" Wolverine's voice now. "Cajun, I've seen bar brawls less bloody than this."

You could never exactly know where Cyclops was looking most of the time, but Gambit could definitely figure that he was looking between him and Shadow, and the blood staining his armour and floor around them.

"And yet you don't look like you have a scratch on you..." He said thoughtfully.

"Hah! Got some healing factor you were holding out on us, Gumbo?"

"No." Gambit looked to Shadow, who had gone nervously silent. "Gambit had some help."

"I-It's my power." She stuttered, tightening her grip on her arms. "I-I can heal people with it."

Cyclops and Wolverine glanced at each other. It was at that moment Gambit felt Jean's telepathy gently press against his mind. He bristled slightly at her intrusion, yet let her speak.

"The Professor would like to talk to the mutant you found back at the mansion."

"Her name is Shadow." Gambit responded, despite himself. There was an almost amused pause, before Jean said;

"Then the Professor would like to speak to Shadow, if she wants to."

Gambit didn't have to look at the other men to know that they'd also heard the request.

"I know this is very sudden," Cyclops began, "but there is a place we come from that can help mutants like yourself master their powers and feel safe. The professor there would like to see you."

Shadow understandably frowned, and Gambit squeezed her arm.

"He tellin' the truth, petite," he said. "You be safe dere." His gaze shifted to where Wolverine was hauling away the still unconscious cyborg. "Dose 'Friends of Humanity' not gonna be best pleased when dey find out one of their friends missin' and you be involved."

"Yes." Cyclops agreed. "Even if it was Gambit who took him down, they will target the weakest out of you two."

"Which is me..." Shadow sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Fuck."

"It don't need to be a permanent thing." Gambit reassured her. "Just long enough dat dey forget dat dis happened."

"And how long is that gonna be?" Was her bitter response.

"We...don't know." Cyclops admitted. "But what we can do is keep you safe from them during that time. Maybe help you learn more about your abilities too - you helped Gambit with them, perhaps there's more you can do?"

She chewed her lip, considering. Gambit wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but he was also curious about her powers. She'd not been lying about it being 'mostly' healing - simple healing wouldn't have worked the way hers did. At least...he assumed so.

"How about I go, talk to this professor of yours, and make a decision then?" Shadow said, glancing between the two men.

"That's reasonable." Cyclops nodded. "Come on. The Blackbird isn't far from here."

"Blackbird?" Shadow asked as she and Gambit climbed to their feet. He flashed her a smile.

"Dat's our ride, petite. Hope ya not scared of flyin'."

(Next part)

[halowritesthings]

“Tout est nul, putain,” Remy said while stomping his way inside. He shook the snow off his body like a wet dog, specifically because he knew it would annoy Scott when he eventually came inside and saw the partially melted snow on the hardwood. “I hate de cold.”

He shucked off the winter cap and gloves he borrowed, but before he could bend over to unlace his boots, a southern drawl emitted from the doorway, “So Ah’ve heard.”

Looking up, he saw Rogue leaning on the frame of the entrance to the common area of the mansion, a blanket bundled in her arms. His mood suddenly perked up significantly, “Well, good ol’ North must‘ve finally caught me. Why else would such a stunnin’ ange be here t’greet moi?”

Rogue rolled her eyes as she got off the frame to stand up straight, “Quit bein’ a drama queen, Swamp Rat. Everyone has had to shovel the walkways at some point.”

Remy pouted, leaning down so he could get back to stripping off the boots, “You say dat, yet why is tonight de first time I seen Specs do his fair share, neh? Gettin’ down an’ dirty too much a hassle for Fearless?”

“Ya know that’s just because ya always hightail it out of the room before the drawing of straws can begin,” Rogue said. “Ah think he’s already maxed out his shoveling duties for the season, but he joined ya tonight anyway, specifically to make sure you would do yer job for once.”

When Remy got both boots off, he looked up at Rogue with zero guilt in his eyes. His pout might have gotten bigger, actually, “So mean to Remy.”

He was quick to slip on his moccasin slippers that he was forced to abandon just an hour prior. If he wasn’t feeling so stiff, he would honestly be willing to bend over even further to place a kiss on the tips of each of them. Plus, he already got called dramatic once in this conversation; even though it was true, he would like to keep the factual observations to a minimum tonight.

As he stood back to his full height, he was suddenly assaulted, darkness enshrouding his vision and his movement becoming restricted. He struggled for a second before remembering what he was just looking at and held himself still. He was swiftly rewarded when a pair of gentle hands messed with the covering at his face and adjusted it so he was snuggly wrapped everywhere that didn’t impede his line of sight. 

Once he was able to see again, he was met with Rogue looking at him with that same fond exasperation he loved to bring out in her. “Don’t chu’ worry,” Rogue began, finalizing the details of her current attempts to encase Remy where he stood. “Jubilee went and made us a bunch’a different kinds of hot coco, and knowing yer daily sugar intake, you’ll be reawakened in no time.”

With a lopsided smile, he grabbed one of her hands, using his blanket-covered fingers to wrap excess blanket around her knuckles before placing a kiss to the top of the hand while looking her in the eyes. She was of course wearing one of her nighttime pair of gloves that she wore when they hung out after hours, but recently he had been making sure to add extra layers between them whenever he could to ease whatever leftover anxiety plagued her mind, “Mon sauveur, what would dis scoundrel do wit’out chu?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rogue said with another roll of her eyes. “Love ya too, ya greaseball.”

woe 🫴 halo x-men fic be upon ye shout out to the 4 people who unanimously voted "yes" to the poll on my main asking about whether or not i should post this WIP snippet to tumblr lol. i have zero idea as to when i can get this completed due to a.) the dreaded blockage of writers as per usual and B.) the dreaded schoolwork which is in a constant revolving state of "maybe i won't have too much work this weekend" and "holy shit i'm falling behind so hard i'm gonna die-" this snippet is rather contained tho so it can work as a standalone pretty well. maybe i just need to embrace shorter ficlets as my main form of writing. certainly would be a nice break from the "can't make a oneshot less than 6k words" train i've been riding since day one LMAO anyway feel free to ignore my yapping; i hope you like my first foray into this fandom!

[djs-horny-blog-lmao]

DJ's Smut Fics Masterpost

oh my god, i now know that these are a pain in the ASS to assemble. but like,,,, handy. so here you guys go. I'm going to sort them into six handy categories for you.

OC

be a good boy and...? - about 4.8k words. contains hypnosis/brainwashing, programming, mantras, orgasm control, trigger phrases, dubious consent. Use of 'good boy'. Features two of my OCs, Jamie and Aeor. (this is probably my fav thing on here ngl)

NSFS SUPERHERO AU

tbh, lowkey the best shit ive done, if you like a good hero-gets-corrupted-by-a-rogue/villain-w/-hypnosis then i've got some fics for You!!

EDIT: this au is kind of dark/fucked up. heavy on the dubcon and corruption kink - all three named heroes are succumbing to being fucked or fucking their villains and are not going to 'win'. please be wary of that going in. i answer questions about it via asks and most of the important plot/lore dumps are tagged under my 'nsfs superhero au' tag if you want to know more/get the tone.

siren's call - part 1 - about 3k words. dom!janus, sub!patton. Trans Patton. CNC, hypnosis, dubcon, corruption kink. praise kink (’good boy’), facefucking, fingering, sex with clothes on, magic sex, memory play, multiple orgasms.

unexpected songs - impossible tasks - part 2 - Trans Patton, sub!Patton. Covert/accidental hypnosis, dubcon, corruption kink. ...accidental exhibitionism? masturbation at the end (not exhibitionism, he's in private). multiple orgasms.

the next stage - part 3 - Trans Patton, sub!Patton, dom!Janus, tist!Janus. hypnosis, dubcon, programming/mind control, corruption kink. blowjobs, riding dildos, magic. multiple orgasms. orgasm denial. use of ‘pussy’ and ‘cunt’ to describe a trans man’s genitals. Praise kink.

Deeper and deeper... - part 4 - about 4k words - Trans Patton, sub!Patton, dom!Janus, tist!Janus. hypnosis, dubcon, programming/mind control, corruption kink. smattering of angst thrown in there. assurance kink. masturbation, degradation and praise, magic, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampies, obedience, orgasm control, crying, kissing. use of ‘pussy’ and ‘cunt’ to describe a trans man’s genitals.

NSFS HUMAN AU

trapped in a brainwashing facility - 3.6k words, roceit, hypnokink/brainwashing, dubcon, pretty heavy fantasy, open/’unhappy’ ending, missing memories, uses of subliminal messaging on the characters - semi horror/erotic thriller

sleepxiety and motorcycles - 970 words, semi-public, swearing, dirty talk, coming untouched (ish), sub!virgil dom!remy.

NSFS FANTASY/MONSTERFUCKER/TECHNOPHILIA

Big dragon, little prince - 2.8k words, Logince. top!Logan bottom!Roman, dom!Logan sub!Roman. Fantasy au. Pre-established relationship, monsterfucking. Dirty talk/degredation. Size kink. Brief mention of attempted murder at the start (monster hunters).

big dragon, little prince 2: now the dragon has 2 cocks - 3.4k words. Roceit. Mentioned Logince. Top!Janus, bottom!Roman, dom!Janus sub!roman. fantasy au. Pre-established Logince. Monsterfucking, dirtytalk/degredation. Size kink. Hemipenis/double penetration. Frotting. Janus uses they/them.

field research - about 4k words. sub/bottom Virgil, top/dom Remus, trans!virgil, referring to a trans man's genitalia as cunt and pussy, anal, double penetration, aphrodisiacs, intox/mild cnc/mild mind-altering substance, talk of breeding, overstim, monsterfucking, tentacles and monstercock.

untitled vampire logan logince fic - about 2k words. Vampire!Logan, logince, mind control/hypnosis, dubcon, vampiric thralls (fun fact, first fic i ever posted here and it's sat at 69 notes for months which still makes me laugh)

admin privileges - about 2.8k words -logince, sub logan dom roman. hypnokink, dronification, d/s, brainwashing/programming, dubious consent/cnc. Logan is an android and Roman is a human. Logan's trans, kind of. has a robopussy. uses of 'sir' and 'admin' as titles. inappropriate use of ports.

NSFS CANON COMPLIANT

just download ur bf a new brain! - roughly 4k words. Logince, sub!roman dom!logan, hypnotist logan, brainwashing, brainwashing via subliminals in music, descriptions of trance and dropping, cnc.

intrulogical hypno shenanigans - 4.6k words. Intrulogical, implied introloceit. sub!Remus dom!Logan. uses ‘master’ and ‘pet/baby boy/good boy’ as titles. Edging, trancing, and some good ol’ fashion boning. Contains an induction.

sequel to the above fic but now intruloceit - 4k words, threesome, hypnosis, dom!Logan, sub!Remus, sub!Janus, some initial anxieties, kink negotiation mid-sex, mantras, uses of ‘master/sir’ and ‘baby/baby boy/good boy/etc’ as titles

soft moceit hypnofic - about 3.6k words, moceit, dom/tist!Janus, sub!Patton, hypnosis, trance, a written induction of sorts, dubcon, gentle vibes, crying. Written pre-SvSs/POF

a book to turn off your brain - 2.6k words. loceit, sub!logan dom!janus, no actual fucking. Hypnosis via reading. Mindlessness, slow fall, implied hands-free-orgasm at the end, cnc

bimbo virgil - about 1k words. analogical, sub!virgil dom!logan, hypnokink, dumbification/bimbofication, trance, no actual sex, mirrors, uses titles like ‘master’ and ‘whore’.

janus gets double dommed - roughly 1.5k words. dom!logan, dom!roman, sub!janus. roloceit. no actual sex, just trance. Induction is written out. use of 'good boy' as praise. hypnosis.

new prescription - roughly 2.7k words. sub!logan, dom!remus. intrulogical. hypnosis, dubcon, brainwashing, memory play, oral fixation, degradation, no penetrative sex.

NSFS THOMASxSIDE

Teacher's pet - About 3.5k words. Dom!Logan, Sub!Thomas. Teacher/student roleplay. Both degradation and praise, use of ‘sir’ and ‘good boy’. A little ...feet...play? it was accidental but it’s hot i promise.

The One Where Roman Ties Him Up And Fucks Him Silly - 3.6k words. Bondage/BDSM, sub!Thomas, dom!Roman, orgasm denial, overstimulation, hypnosis, voice kink, royalty kink, royalty/servant dynamic (sort of) use of titles like ‘my king’, and ‘good boy’.

Well um there we go i guess i'll update it with more as I write them?? maybe?? probably.

and damn. ive written more than i expected won't lie. if you want reccs from me, i think the brainwashing facility one, the dukexiety monsterfucking one, bimbo virgil, my OC one and just all the superhero ones are the best

[hyenahunt]

Obbligato: The Punishment of Kaname Tojo - 9

Writer: Akira

Season: Spring, two years ago

Characters: Tatsumi, Kaname

Proofreading: Remi (JP) & honeyspades (ENG)

Translation: Peace

Tatsumi: We are mirrors of one another, kindred souls.

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Location: At the same time, on the stage of Reimei Academy's "Third Auditorium"

Tatsumi: "My beloved peers of Reimei Academy, thank you for coming."

"I, Tatsumi Kazehaya, have something of great importance to tell you all today."

Kaname: ......

Tatsumi: (Whispering) Hm... They don't seem particularly pleased, though I expected as much.

The Special Students don't seem to like how I’m speaking on my own at the moment. If it wasn't for your persuasion, HiMERU-san, I don't believe any of them would have shown up.

Kaname: I didn't really persuade them, I just gave them money.

Or rather, I gave them the job of gathering here as an audience, with a promise of receiving more concessions and such for their future work.

The time for compassion and persuasion has long passed, Tatsumi-senpai.

Tatsumi: Not so. I'm certain that anyone who isn't a Special Student must feel sympathetic — look at everyone who's come who won't be getting a cent out of it.

Kaname: That's because they're still expecting great things from you. They have hope you might be able to change this hellhole of a school.

Tatsumi: ......

Kaname: Anyway, let's stop chit-chatting and return to the topic at hand. The money I tossed around will be a waste otherwise.

Kaname: ... In the end, I wasn't as beloved as you were.

Reimei Academy's Top Idol. It feels like a position I just bought rather than earned. The academy's higher-ups would give me plenty of money...

And using that, I simply got to where I am today. But in the end… no one, not a single person, loved me the way they did you.

Do you hate me for learning such dirty tricks, Tatsumi-senpai?

Tatsumi: Of course not. In fact, I believe that knowledge must be your strength — I respect you for doing what I could not.

Kaname: You really do speak from the heart. Don't ever become like me, senpai.

Remain as pure as you are in this moment.

Better yet, I'll do all I can to ensure that you do.

I've made up my mind. Maybe I am an idiot, but in my own stupid way I've thought desperately of what I could do and chosen my own path.

I want to die for your ideology.

With you as a model for sainthood, I'll become a bit of a better person than I am now.

Tatsumi: I am not a saint, however...

If someone believes in me, if they expect something of me, then I shall act as they wish. Though it would be disrespectful to myself — though it is most certainly a sin to the body as a vessel of life...

If it would make others even a little bit happier, then I will gladly wear a crown of thorns.

Amen.

Tatsumi: "— Students of Reimei Academy."

"Are you happy right now?"

"I would like each of you to put your hand to your heart and truly give my question some thought. Are you satisfied with the life you've lived thus far? Are you lacking in something? Do you feel as if you've experienced misfortune?"

"No matter your answer, I ask that you listen to my announcement until the end."

"I have decided that HiMERU-san and I shall form a unit from today on, for the sake of bringing a little more happiness to the Academy.

"Fufu. Those of us in Reimei Academy might not be too familiar with such a concept, of course..."

"However, the concept is more normalized within another long standing idol training school, Yumenosaki Academy."

"In short, an idol unit is exactly as it implies: rather than doing things individually, he and I shall be performing them as a group."

"A 'unit' shares a common destiny. They are alike to a family, company, or even a nation."

Tatsumi: "We are mirrors of one another, kindred souls."

"As we move together from hereon, all that we earn will be distributed fairly among our members."

"Those who have previously joined me in the catacombs will understand what I mean when I say that."

"However, those who are Special Students may not be as aware of this arrangement. In Reimei Academy, our rewards are based on how well we do individually; it's a very result-focused system."

"I'd like to ask that all Special Students adhere to this arrangement from here on. Our unit shall not allow any one person to monopolize wealth nor to run wild on their own."

"In doing so, we shall seek a joyous future where one and all can live together fairly."

Tatsumi: "... I see there's some pushback. You may be asking yourself, ‘Why should I work for others when I can simply work for myself? Why should they reap the rewards I sow?’"

"However, this is the best way forward. Let us say, as an example, that you make a mistake or incur an injury and can no longer work."

"Or rather than earning money, you find yourself falling into debt."

"Our unit would never abandon anyone to such a fate."

"By taking responsibility on behalf of the individual affected, we will compensate for their losses and ensure that no one falls victim to circumstances outside of their control."

Tatsumi: "The present day idol industry is on a decline. As a result, there are numerous pitfalls that can cause one to fall to ruin; we'd like to support one another in such times of despair, to overcome them."

"No, we absolutely must support one another if we wish to survive. Unfortunate as it is, we have already been driven to such a point."

"I'm sure some of you have already realized that by now."

Tatsumi: "This is Hell. We aren't able to live as we once did, not when the end is nigh."

"It is already so difficult to breathe — and if you allow your attention to slip for even a moment, you face miserable repercussions immediately."

Kaname: " — We wish to change that."

"From this moment on, we are inviting you all to form a unit with us."

"Through a simple process, you will be welcomed immediately as one of ‘us’."

Tatsumi: "And finally, the most important point: all are welcome to join us, whether you are a Special Student or not."

"Unfortunately, as it stands... We, who are Special Students, and those who are not, dislike each other immensely."

"I'm certain that there will be a great many who won't wish to work together."

"However... If you can, please swallow your doubts and walk with us. I firmly believe this is the only path towards a happier future."

"Ideally speaking, we'd like to make every student in Reimei Academy part of our unit — and in doing so, have a truly fair and just school."

"All would work, and all would reap the rewards sown equally."

"At present, you gain only a little by stepping on the backs of others so arrogantly — it's a deplorable practice, so let's stop it."

"If it continues, then the disparity will never disappear. If we do not strive to create an impartial environment, then there will always be those who are fated to be trampled on."

Tatsumi: "I don't wish to witness such a sight any longer."

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[manyothermusingsofmine]

Combat Skills || Drabble

Fandom: Xmen

Warnings: Dirty fighting tactics, and just all around fighting scenes (cause I need more practice with those)

Wordcount: 3208

Summary: Having to train in the Danger Room with Gambit is a different beast all together

AN: brings up plotpoints from @shadowphoenixrider's story because as she calls it we're just in an ouroboros loop together now

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"I don't want to train with Remy in the danger room"

Shadow couldn't stop a bark from laughter escaping as Drifting flopped onto the kitchen table in defeat, a groan leaving her.

"Stop laughing, I'm serious."

"Oh, come on, it can't be as bad as me being teamed up with Logan."

"Ah, the age old question of would you rather die by knives or explosions? The answer is; neither."

She knew fully well that by stepping into the training room the actual risk of Gambit seriously injuring her wasn't high. For what it was worth, with how the team looked out for each other, there was always some safe fail to pull to immediately stop whatever was going on. However, the risk was not at zero, and maybe that's why she entered said danger room with a little more trepidation than she would otherwise. He stood in the middle of the room, casually leaning his elbow on the staff he used in battle and shuffling his deck of cards in a way a professional dealer would be jealous of.

"Didn't think you'd show up."

"Had half a mind not to."

Taking one of the cards with a flick of the wrist and immediately setting it alight with the pink glow that spelled out trouble, Gambit cocked his head at her with a smirk painted on his face.

Oh, she really didn't like where this was going.

"Can't keep hiding and running from me forever, mon ami."

How long had they been in combat? It wasn't like she had the time to worry about the passing time when explosive cards were thrown her way, row by row, like ammunition leaving a sentry. Trying her best to stay quiet, in her head she thought about how she would rather not be directly in his line of sight.

"At some point you gotta come out of hiding, or, start using it to your advantage. I've got all day, and plenty of cards to spare."

God, his cocky attitude about it was annoying. Good for him for being so in tune with his abilities, but that also created the problem that she didn't see an opening in his attacks to do something about it. She couldn't think of any solution to her problem, the onslaught of explosives being thrown her way in erratic patterns that she somehow had to dodge keeping her too on her toes to formulate a plan of attack. So first things first, she needed to get herself the hell out of the line of fire.

Clambering one of the many structures around, she finally found some much appreciated relief as he hadn't heard her leave the flat floor. Right. Okay. From her higher perching point, Drifting observed Gambit for a little bit, trying to get an idea of what exactly he was trying to accomplish with these constant... ranged attacks.

Of course they were ranged. If he kept them closer to himself he risked being in his own blast radius; that was probably what the staff was for instead. So the real question was; how did she get in close enough range where his cards would be too dangerous to use in what was still supposed to be a friendly match, and what did he have up his sleeves for when she got in that range?

... Teleportation would be useful right about now, but she assumed the whole point of this was to not depend on the talents of teleporting mutant.

She was lightly disturbed from her thoughts as he whistled a little tune, stopping his attack of cards as he had apparently somehow put together she wasn't on the ground floor anymore- the fact that she hadn't made a noise since clambering up over the small yelps when pink cards had dropped at her feet probably giving it away.

"Come out, come out, wherever ya are," and despite knowing he couldn't see her she couldn't stop herself from flipping him off at the tone of his voice. Either way she had to get in close combat range.

With Gambit.

It wasn't her preferred plan by a mile, but it was the only one she had.

"Are you really tossing the towel in this early, mon ami? Are you that scared of confrontation that you'll tap out of a fight with Gambit so soon, hmm? Such a sh- hey!"

Something, or really someone, had grabbed onto the lowest part of his coat. It was lifted up and yanked back hard, only to be swirled over his head as his attacker clearly had the idea of trapping him in his own outfit. He had to give it to her; it was a clever idea despite being a dirty tactic. He had just enough time to free himself from the tangle of fabric before the staff he used for fighting in close rank now came flying towards him. He didn't react fast enough for the first blow to not hit him square on the shoulder, but he blocked the next few to get an idea of how she was wielding it. As soon as he saw the opportunity to he grabbed on with both hands, feeling her struggle to get it back from his grip.

"You wanna play it rough? Don't hold back now; a real enemy wouldn't either."

"Okay, wait, hold on a second," she called, her position pretty much already been given away with how they struggled for possession over the staff, "you really don't want me to hold back?"

"No time outs in real fights either, petite-"

"Gambit."

"Oui. Fight as dirty as you like. Gambit can handle it."

"... on one condition,” Condition? The mere notion of it made him raise an eyebrow until she continued, "when you inevitably have to go to Shadow to get healed, and she asks why you look the way you do; you tell her it was your idea."

".... D’accord," and if she wanted to play it dirty then he didn't need to hold himself to all the honor rules either. As soon as the agreement to her terms left his mouth, he forced his energy into the staff just enough to make it hot to the touch. It forced her to let go with a yelp of 'ow,' relinquishing the staff back to him which he immediately wielded against her, hitting her sides as she struggled to cover her flanks.

Her invisibility no longer gave her any advantage, so she dropped it in order to focus on fighting back. She started blocking attacks, grabbing back onto the staff to start a new tug of war over its ownership. She couldn't physically take it back, his grip too strong. But hey, he had said she could play dirty. Planting the full force of a powerful kick to his upper left thigh stunted him enough for her to rip the staff out of his hands, before wielding it much more like a make shift baseball bat to hit him with.

 It was such a non-conventional way of this weapon being used that she easily connected the hit to his shoulder, before so easily wielding it properly and shoving the end hard in his stomach like she was trying to win a pool table match that she actually got him to the ground.  Okay, she had to have had practice with one of these before; enough to wield properly, while with enough give to her technique that she wielded it in wildly inappropriate ways.

"What was that about tapping out?" she dryly remarked, approaching him with the staff to keep distance between them. He just smirked, grabbing onto the end pointed at him as she got close enough and watching as the realization hit her.

"Oh, fuck-"

Before the last letters of the words had left her mouth he yanked with all his might, immediately pulling her off balance and making sure she collapsed by sweeping her feet out from underneath her, tossing the staff aside so neither of them had control over it anymore. Within a second he had her in a headlock- Well, sort of. Instead of having his arm around her neck and risking actually hurting her, his arm rested more or less on and under her collar bones. She could sense that to him he was only applying minimal pressure to keep her in place, but to her it felt like a vice grip she wouldn't easily slip out of.

"Tap out, and I'll let you go. Easiest deal of your life, mon ami."

Well, those were apparently fighting words, because he could feel long nails clawing at the material on his arms. It was lightweight and not that easy to break, but those talons were definitely digging in. She was still trying to break free from his grip, her brain for one moment wondering if this was anything like being bitten by a guard dog that refused to let go. She halted her struggling for a moment, summoning that thought back to the forefront.

Instead of clawing and pulling at his arm to try and break free, she harshly shoved it further up towards herself; biting down hard as soon as the offending limb was in range. It was enough to make him let go, and she ignored his yelp of pain as she flung herself out of his grip. She immediately picked the staff back up and swirling it towards him, pointing the end of it at his neck.

"Stay. Down," she almost barked, not wanting to have another round of all this. There was a moment of a truce between them, then she started to wobble on her legs without any of his doing.

She flicked the staff back around, using it as a makeshift crutch and leaning pole; both her wrist resting on the top part as she leaned it away from her. She was breathing so bad Remy swore he could see the faint outline of her ribs through her suit.

"You alright?"

One of her hands shot up, gesturing at him to hold his thoughts for a moment. She couldn't answer, her breathing and heaving so intense that she knew for sure that if she decided to talk her breakfast would come back up the wrong way to say hello. She waited for the feeling of nausea to subside before changing her position so she stood beside him, facing the same direction, lightly tapping her fingers on the staff thrice. She had enough.

"Don't tell Gambit he tastes so bad that you gotta tap out before your victory?"

"Oh Jesus fucking Christ, god damn you, you son of a- what the fuck are you laughing at?!"

"Was that every religious curse you bottle up when talkin' to Kurt, or what?"

"Unleashing that kind of hell around a catholic is considered unkind in most circles, if not 'kind of a dick move,' so," she shrugged lightly, taking another deep breath before finally pushing herself up straight.

"Mhh, wouldn't want to upset him now would- nice try," he said as he grabbed onto the part of the staff moving towards him; Miranda had tilted it sideways, using her wrist almost as a makeshift barrel to a seesaw and hit the backend with her free hand to use its leverage to her advantage, "you've got some skill; where'd you learn all that?"

She just shrugged, looking at him with a slight smile.

"Girl's gotta have her hobbies, buddy. Anyway, no, it's not because you taste vile; I just got up too quick and my body had enough. If you want to know what you taste like, well, you know who to ask; and it's not me."

Gambit decided that it would really be in his favor to not react to that, instead checking just how bad the damage was where she had bit him. After stripping his arm of the skintight fabric, he looked where the indents of her teeth stood pressed into his skin, giving a slightly impressed sounding whistle.

"Good thing you don't come with fangs, petite; you would've drawn blood. If that's you still holding back, hate to see the guy who actually pisses you off enough to make you bring your full house."

"Oh, like you weren't holding back?"

"Gotta be gentle with the new folks, y'know. Or maybe your cards just came up a lot luckier than for most when facing me in here, who knows? You're quite a wild card yourself, all things considered. Oh, and if you must know, it's also quite 'unkind' and 'kind of a dick move' to show up uninvited to what was supposed to be a private moment.'

He rolled his red gaze towards her, lazily observing her while not bothering to move from his spot. If he wanted to get up, he would've done so by now.

"And really, thirty minutes was enough for you to drag your favorite teleporter into- ow," it wasn't actually that hard of a hit, but he certainly just missed dodging the open palm that connected to the back of his head.

"You know what your problem is, LeBeau? You like the sound of your own voice so much, people barely have a choice but to find creative ways to make you shut the fuck up for once. Some methods, granted, more in your favor than others. Either way, both of us should pay Shadow a visit. Me, so I can stop feeling like I got hit by a fucking freight train, and you to get that bite looked at before we find out I also possess zombification powers or something."

"... Invisible zombies," Gambit mused, clearly letting the thought of it linger in his head for a moment too long, "... thanks. I hate it."

He took the hand she offered to get back up from the ground, also accepting his weapon back when she twirled it over and held it out to him. A visit to the resident healer of the mansion was very much in order.

... And awkward, above all. Remy insisted Miranda would be healed first, and whether that was to prove that chivalry wasn't dead or because he wanted her out of the door before himself was anyone's guess. Green eyes flicked back and forth between Gambit and Shadow, until the silence grew so awkward that someone had to say something.

"So," Remy started, the word doing little to deal with the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife, "what are you gonna do?"

"About what?" Miranda dryly replied, getting off the chair and gesturing at him to sit down, "I mean the plan is kind of to get my ass upstairs and then face down into my bed, if that’s what you mean."

"Non. About what you saw-"

"Saw what?"

Two sets of eyes were on her, blinking in confusion, as she calmly leaned back on the closed door to the room, shrugging for a moment.

"The trees in full bloom? If anyone wants to see that, they don't need me to tell them, they can go out there and check themselves. Why, was I supposed to see anything else?"

Shadow and Gambit stared at each other for a moment in utter confusion, not understanding Miranda's sudden change of heart on a dime- Until it clicked for Shadow when she realised this had been exactly how Drifting tended to move in a crowd. Or at least, through the crowd of coworkers they both used to deal with. Drifting knew everything, about everyone; sometimes even against her will as people tended to spill the beans to the one most withdrawn and to themselves. Ones who weren't in the habit of sharing the secrets granted around.

"You're giving us a way out."

"Way out of what? Honestly, I have no idea what you're talking about. I saw nothing but dense trees full of lovely smelling blossoms; which is not quite a juicy tale to tell. And if I did see something story worthy, which I didn't, mind you; wouldn't be my story to tell, now would it?"

She mimicked zipping her mouth shut, before clicking the doorhandle down with her elbow and graciously leaving the room. Because, truthfully, a bed sounded like a wonderful place to crash in right about now.

As she dragged her way upstairs, she remembered that Kurt's room was much closer by the staircase than her own. She saw through the slightly opened door that he happened to be in there as well, sitting on the bed while reading some thick classic book that she was too tired to comprehend the title of; she couldn't even tell what language it was supposed to be.

For just a moment she tried to walk past and go to her own room, but a mere two steps away from his door her mind seemed to stubbornly decide that she wasn't going to move a singular step away from the nearest comfortable looking bed. Rolling her eyes at herself, she took the two steps back and lightly tapped on the door with her knuckle.

"Come in. Oh, guten Abend Miranda, done with the danger room training? How do you feel?"

"Physically, fine," she replied, watching as he swiveled his tail aside to make room for her on the bed, before sitting down and pressing her face to the back of his shoulder, "mentally; like I've been up for seventy two hours because some mad scientist wanted to study what that would do to the human body."

The gentle sound of his laughter was somehow so heartwarming, as a sense of comfort started to seep in. Listening to the occasional sound of him turning the pages, she found her mind already being more at ease.

"And why didn't you offer to be my trainer, anyway?" she asked, the light accusatory tone of her voice totally meant in jest.

"Because I don't think you want to try your luck with a swordsman that fast."

In the silence that followed Kurt swore he could almost hear the cogs in her head turn as that statement sank in, feeling the slight weight against him being lifted as she pulled herself back up.

".... Wha- You fight with a sword?!"

"Swords," he corrected, holding his fingers up as he counted them out, "Eins, zwei, und drei; three in total."

He really tried his best to not chuckle when the dead silence further implied that her mental image of his fighting had been something else entirely. Maybe he would ask her sometimes how she actually imagined he took down the sentinel alongside Rogue and Wolverine, or what kind of weapon she had assumed he wielded instead.

".... I'm not unpacking that right now," she replied, flopping down on the bed and looking at the ceiling for a moment, before rolling over on her side as she much preferred sleeping that way than on her back. The bed was soft, the sheets and pillows had an inviting scent of freshly clean laundry about them, and yet as her eyelids fell shut she still felt the need to bring something up.

"Hey, Kurt, do me a favor; wake me up for dinner?"

"Mach ich, kein Problem."

“.. thank you.”

[undead-merman]

Your male lactation posting gave me ideas

Love interest with male cow PC good-natured but rather dull-minded and lazy due to their cow transformation they just want to lounge around and eat grass but they have to work to pay off Robin's debt and Robin and Sydney keep dragging them to class despite Cow PC mooing at them to stop and giving them pleading looks maybe trying to seduce them to make them stop (Robin and Syd barely manage to stay focused and get PC to class), always lounging around naked clothes just don't feel natural after spending so long naked with Remy, Robin is so flustered to find cow PC just lazing about in his room waiting for him giant cock hanging out using his console, and Alex barely manages to restrain himself from fucking PC when they catch them face down fat ass up eating grass moving in delight at how good it is.

PC’s large and muscular from physical work on Alex’s farm before getting kidnapped and turned into a cow and then running around on Remy’s farm has wonderfully grabbable pecs big meaty and full of milk their nips constantly leaking with milk maybe they put little bandaids on to make sure their clothes don't get dirty but they can't help but tweak at their nips because they feel so full of milk, and they look so cute and dopey without a care in the world the only thing on their mind is grass, and when they're gonna milk themselves their balls heavy with cream already groping themselves softly a light moo escaping their lips almost a moan

Robin found you in the park munching on the grass when he was looking for you just before school. He had made it a habit, and he was glad he did. Your bare ass and… humongous cock out in the open for anyone who was around to see. Thank goodness he was the only one around.

He ran up and threw his jacket over you gaping as he asked you what happened! But he quieted down when he saw the horns and tail, as well as the confused face. He hated the look in your eyes. Like he was some kind of stranger. It made him ill just thinking about it. He had to downright herd you back home and you refused to stay in your old room. He had to keep you in his own. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. The fact that you wouldn’t stay put in your own room, that you would only sit just to sniff robin’s clothes.

Weeks passed and you didn’t talk, he had to teach you again. And because of that, he couldn’t have you go to school. He would run to school and run back to make sure you weren’t getting into trouble. Luckily you didn’t do much besides eating grass and sleep, though he was thrilled you were getting back into video games. When you sniffed the controller and picked it up and started playing it, he nearly cried.

Today was the same, running back and throwing open his door to see you with your cock out and playing. Robin was sure he was used to it, but he couldn’t help but flushed and nearly drool over those pecs and the pretty color of your cock. The head is so… delicious looking. But he tries to shake those thoughts out of his head. You were sick! He couldn’t think like this! He couldn’t think about holding those horns and slowly pushing his cock between those manly lips or huge pecs.

But it was too late. He was already hard in his school trousers. He wanted to slip out, but you already perked up with that adorable smile. Calling him his name with that deep voice that could send shivers down his spine.

He tried to convince you to try going out today, he got a new sweater for you to wear. A big one so it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable to wear. But you mooed in protest. His heart sank, he was hoping today was the day, and money was getting tight. You told him about a secret fund you had hidden away that had been enough to pay for a month, but that’s it. There’s no more money in that spot and he hasn’t scrapped up enough to pay. He didn’t want to lose you again!! So he tried pulling you up from the pile of clothes but with your strength, you were easily able to crawl back down and let out another pathetic moo.

Still trying, you noticed a tent in his pants. so, knowing from your days on the farm that if you just let them use you they’d leave you alone. So your long flat tongue licked over his crotch and his whole body jolted and shivered. His hands caught your horns so he didn’t fall. His knees buckled and he couldn’t even fight back as you did it over and over again. Your teeth find his zipper and pull his virgin cock out. Something like memories drifted through your head of grinding your cock against his freckled dick but you shook them off. You pushed him down and he was frozen as you ground your massive cock against his, dwarfing it.

Each slow thrust of your hips got you hard and Robin squirming. Precum leaked out of his tip more and more making it easier to glide your cock against his. And he’s bucking into you, it is hesitant at first but he starts getting into a rhythm. You smiled happily, knowing it worked, and pulled away to lay back down on the pile of clothes with outstretched hands inviting him back in.

Robin, of course, couldn’t say no. He rolled on top of you and ground into your big body. His face was steaming hot and his dick was rutting into you and even getting you into a heated pace. Your balls felt so full lately and your hand just wasn’t doing it anymore. Not to mention your nipples leaking with each thrust. In a lust-drunk gaze, Robin looked at those pretty numbs and squeezed your chest making milk squeeze out. A long moan fell out of your mouth as he massaged your chest and firm muscle.

You couldn’t help but writhe, those small and scrawny fingers pinching your engorged buds and squeezing out the milk that flowed down your chest as if they were towels soaked with water. He was astonished at how much came out. But you smiled proudly and your tail flopped on the pile, you were the best bull after all. You bucked up into his hips and that only snapped him back to the reality that his cock was grinding on your fat rod.

It took a bit longer than you'd like, the machines at the farm were so efficient. It felt like Robin was edging you and it wasn't fair! You need to cum. Empty yourself of milk. Robin watched as your tail slapped the ground in frustration. He was shocked when you grabbed his waist and fucked into him. He yelped and grabbed your chest harder causing much more to leak out due to the rough treatment.

Robin held on for dear life as you both frotted your dicks together. All he could focus on was the noises and pleasure he was trying to ride up and over to climax. And with a few sloppy thrusts, you both were able to.

He spilled himself in the deep v of your hips while you exploded on his stomach enough for it to hit his chin and drip off in excess. It was so much. Robin marveled at how you made enough of a mess to fill a whole jug of milk. It was all over him and all over the floor.

But the way you blissfully smiled and mooed at him made his heart clench, but not in a good way. Were you really beyond help? Had you truly forgotten what you had been in favor of being a cow?

He let out a defeated sigh. You were still his friend, he couldn’t just give up, even if it felt hopeless. He just hoped that Bailey wouldn't find you like this after he wasn't able to pay this week's rent.

He won't lose you again.

---

Sydney was awestruck when he saw you sitting naked eating the roses off a bush you had ripped out of the ground. It was you! You!

He was so caught up in the fact that he missed your face and presence that he didn't even notice your new ears and horns let alone your tail. And his excitement died on his tongue as he slowly realized what happened.

You hardly understood a word out of his mouth and while you still seemed to recognize him, it deeply traumatized him to see you as a shell of what you were as well as the brandings on your skin. He sobbed on your shoulder and he found it hopeful that you still tried to comfort him, pressing your nose under his chin and cupping it to look at him.

Sadly he couldn’t keep you at his home, so he had to rely on Robin. He was relieved when he decided to help try to take care of you. He would help bring food for you since you had a sudden distaste for anything besides grain and apples, and you had tried to eat the brown rotten grass there at the orphanage. Sydney would come in the morning before school to help feed you.

Sydney had to get you a new uniform since the last one didn’t even come close to fitting anymore, the buttons had all popped off embarrassingly around the chest and the trousers had ripped at the thighs and bottom. And even when they got you one that fit you still tried to tug it off. It was a full day's battle to get you to stay in it.

But it was worse when they tried to get you to school. You just lounged in the library. While Sydney would have normally loved this, it was rough seeing you like this. Sure you picked him up when he needed to grab a book, and you even were able to carry just as much as a book cart. But it just wasn’t you.

He had tried to get you to go to class but it was a disaster. River had tugged at your ears and horns and you head-butted them into the chalkboard. Winter got upset that you just cocked your head at them every time they asked you a question. Even his father was bewildered. It ended up in a lot of questions that deep down he knew if he answered honestly would get you taken away again. So he lied.

And now you were here. Sydney let out a sigh, a hopeless and crestfallen sigh as he pushed up the glasses you had bought him.

The sound of a soft moo drew his eyes over to where you were sitting behind him. Hand on your scratch palming your hard dick. Sydney panicked trying to pull your arm away and looking around the empty library. “Hey, come on please don’t do that.”

But you just keep going. Pulling out your own cock without a care in the world. Sydney’s gaze darts around just taking a second look just to make sure everyone has left for the day. Your cock is so flushed and it looks painful, not to mention when you tug up our shirt so are your nipples. You shamelessly start masturbating right in front of him and he slaps a hand to his eyes.

You're sick, he gets that, with these new features of yours, you’ve picked up the traits of a cattle as well… and he supposes that means you need to find relief. Robin told him about the lactation. How some of our shirts were covered in milk and just the lightest stimulation to them got you worked up. Did you need to be milked? He had read about dairy cows, but did it apply to this?

He didn’t even realize he was swallowing a hard lump in his throat as he watched your large hand pump your cock. It was so big… and it was leaking so much. You mooed in discomfort and he did his best to calm his itching hand, idle hands are the devil's workshop.

But he can’t stop himself and his hands brush against the tip, his fingertips smearing with pre cum. It’s so warm. His hands move deeper down your shaft and you move your hand away just like you were trained to do.

It was an awkward pace, you were used to the farm hands being much more efficient but happy that someone was finally helping, Sydney was just fascinated by it all and just wanted to see more. He started slowly rubbing, following the same patterns he enjoyed when touching himself, and he was happy to see you mooing happily.

His movement gets more confident and you are just happy to buck into his hand. And his mouth slowly presses against those pretty but irritated nipples. You mooed loudly and his mouth was filled with creamy milk as it was shot into his mouth. He had to cough it up and you bit your lip and watched him hack up a lung, even offering a comforting lick to his lips. But Sydney wasn’t shaken. He wiped his mouth with his wrist and went right back in. his soft hands stroking up and down and even playing with your wide head as he started to drink down your milk.

It was much creamer and distressingly more refreshing. It was dangerously addicting, all of this. So he continued drinking as much as he could, big mouthfuls as you bucked into his hand and he stroked you faster while looking at your pleasure-filled face. He loved the way your lip quivered and it wanted him to do more, mess you up until you couldn’t handle it anymore.

And when you came it burst over his hands and chin, even when he backed off you still spurted more and more, just strands of ‘cream’ landing on the both of you. Even your pecs were twitching and gushing out and making such a mess. By the time your powerful orgasm dies down and you are left a panting mess so drained you can’t even move your tail, something in Sydney's brain just shifts so naturally, like tectonic plates. He’d love to do more. Seeing the big and built you trembling under his hands, it's such a dangerous want.

---

When you came back to the farm during a rainy night and he came into the barn and found you sitting on some straw, he burst into tears. Alex thought he’d lost his partner forever. He was crushed to find out what happened to you and noticed very quickly you were just like the other cows on the farm. And every night he’d help milk you. It was difficult to handle you like livestock, but he was willing to stick by you no matter what.

Still, it seemed like you were taking to your old life again. He’d roll you out of bed despite your protests, you didn’t work, you didn’t eat. So you’d stand behind him and help when he asked and you'd get to work.

You had bulked up a lot, massive really to the point you were now bigger than him. And you easily did the heavy lifting around the farm. You could even pick up a squealing pig and wrangle an armful of chickens. Work got done so much faster and with much more ease and there were moments he was shocked to finish the work early and was laying down under his lucky tree. His eyes watch the setting sun when he catches you naked once again, but this time you are on your knees eating at the grass. He wanted to look away but something today stopped him. He always fancied you. But now getting to see that perfectly plumped rear with your hole right on display, not to mention that delicious set of heavy balls. They could outright fill his palms, each one as large as plump as juicy apples, maybe even oranges. His mouth is watering just thinking about it and soon enough he's hard, imagining sucking on them before sinking his cock right into that pretty little hole. It’s a bit puffy so he knows you’ve been fucked often, but he’s not sure if that was before or after Remy’s farm. But he doesn’t want to think about that now. He wants to think about fingering your hole and listening to you moo.

But today he was feeling lucky, brave even. So he stood up, moved over to where you were nibbling, and stroked your back. He loved when you leaned into his touches, but he slowly moved his hand down to your hips, cupping the meat of your tush. He just stood there just feeling your warmth between his fingers. But soon his fingers rubbed down your crack and against your hole, careful of your tail. He takes it slow, making sure to slip his finger right over your rim. Waiting for you to buck your hips into his rough finger.

He smiles when one quick jolt of your hips sends his finger inside your soft velvety ass. He rocks his finger inside in time with your hips, holding your tail to keep you steady. He finds your movement adorable and the more you go the harder he gets until he has four fingers inside you and his cock is straining painfully in his overalls. He grins at how desperate your hips move trying to get even more stuffed into you and he decides to treat you. Pulling down his work overalls and patting your hole with the head of his dick. Spitting down onto your hole and enjoying the squelch that his head makes against your hole.

With a solid yet slow thrust he’s buried deep into your insides and he loves how your tail squirms in his grasp. He takes a hurried pace, his hips snapping against your ass as he holds your tail out of the way. He fits so perfectly and you are so damn warm and snug he couldn’t go slow. His tight grip on your tail slowly stroked from the base to the tip and he loved how your guts tighten up.

He kept going, chasing his own pleasure as he toyed around your beefy body. Fingers down your spine. Yanking your hair, and even pulling your horns so he could reach deeper inside you to bully your prostate. When he finally came he made sure to yank you back so he fills you up completely. And how much had you cum? With how much you spilled it looks like a gallon on the ground. Twitch after twitch you empty your balls onto the ground and Alex can only think ‘what a waste’. Still, maybe if you wanted he could milk you too? Only if you wanted though… You seemed happy as a cow. Though he still missed the old you. You were fine the way you were.

[edupunkn00b]

The Uses of Adversity, Ch. 15: Live to Tell

Prev - Live to Tell - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 3378 - Rated: T - CW: swearing, non-graphic discussions of abuse

Janus depositions Logan in preparation for their court battle with Kelly. He tells Janus everything. Well, nearly everything. Everything relevant, Logan is certain.

I have a tale to tell Sometimes it gets so hard to hide it well I was not ready for the fall Too blind to see the writing on the wall

A man can tell a thousand lies I've learned my lesson well Hope I live to tell the secret I have learned 'Til then, it will burn inside of me - Live to Tell, Madonna

Roman stayed until Saturday afternoon. They spent the night on the couch, talking and… to be honest, each had dozed a bit, as well. Logan had fallen asleep first, warm and safe, wrapped in Roman's arms, holding him just as closely. The next morning, the boys didn’t question Roman’s presence and simply greeted him like he belonged there.

Despite his worries, they’d had a blissful weekend together, with cake and leftovers for breakfast, and a thrift store hunt for books and Doctor Who DVDs later in the day. Saying goodbye to Roman had been difficult, with wild fantasies of making a permanent space for him flitting through Logan's mind. But Remy's scheme to meet up the next weekend for the movie gave them all something to look forward to.

Remy’s housemate Emile came by Sunday afternoon after spending the weekend with his parents and they’d all fumbled their way through making sushi with the kit the boys had given him for his birthday. Emile had even gifted him a little matcha tea set, the sakura petals on the bamboo finish perfectly matching the kit from his sons.

By Sunday night, Remy, Virgil, and Emile had driven back up to Bellingham, and Logan had dropped off Patton at Kelly’s for her week with him. Neither had mentioned the papers. 

He took his time getting ready for bed, drawing out the rote tasks. He flossed twice, refilled the hand soap bottles, changed out the towels in all the bathrooms. The weekend’s busyness, his sons’ laughter filling the house—and, thanks to Roman, his own—had pushed away his worries about Kelly’s filing and Monday’s deposition with Janus.

Now that he was alone again, it was impossible to think about anything else.

More times than he wanted to admit, he’d picked up his phone, tapping open his ongoing chat with Roman, and tried to imagine what he would say if he invited him over. Twice, he’d even started to type out the message, but no matter how he worded it, his request sounded… disrespectful. Dirty. Hey, Ro, my sons aren’t home. Wanna come over?

Shaking his head, he went downstairs to finish the laundry he’d neglected that weekend. Once that was done, he moved on to strip all the beds and, in a few loads, had washed all the sheets and blankets. By the time he’d folded the last comforter, still warm and smelling like that Saturday Roman had found him at the laundromat, the first birds had begun their morning calls. Logan made his bed, brewed a fresh pot of coffee, then stood in front of the kitchen window to watch the sunrise slowly open the blooms in his flower box.

When the bottom edge of the sun cleared the horizon, Logan rinsed his cup and got ready for work. If he left soon, he could take the bus in and not need to worry about the traffic over the bridge.

~

“A little odd to be on the other side of one of these, isn’t it?” Janus remarked as he sat across from him in his office. He tried not to listen when Janus asked Beatrice to ensure they weren’t disturbed, though he’d appreciated the way Janus had asked him to bring a stack of files from his office as a subtle subterfuge.

“More than a little,” he nodded.

Humming, Janus flipped through folders on his desk. “I see from the proceedings you represented yourself—”

“You have my court records?” Logan interrupted, eyes wild as he tried to recall what other information might be hidden away in those files.

Janus looked up, a faint frown wrinkling his brow. “I’m your attorney.”

“Right, yes, of course… I—I don’t mean…” He looked down at his hands. Janus was certain to rescind the Assistant AIC offer after all of this. This was even worse than the review of his Q-Law cases.

“Did you consult with anyone?”

“No.” He shook his head. “I… took care of it. Kelly was the petitioner. She… It was… I just wanted it done.”

Logan wasn’t sure if Roman had warned him or not, but Janus started very slowly with the rest of his questions, building out a chronological list of events in their marriage and separation. He captured the boys’ names and birthdays—they’d been redacted from the court record. They talked a bit about Virgil’s birth and his surgeries. Logan even told Janus how Virgil’s genetic screening had showed a hereditary component to the defect in his diaphragm. He admitted how, afterward, he’d had his own genome screened and confirmed he carried the gene.

Janus didn’t ask for more details, so he let the rest of that thread drop.

Instead, he began to ask about the… quality of his relationship with Kelly. Logan bit the inside of his cheek, fighting for control. He’d just managed to win a sliver of respect from his boss. He couldn’t… He couldn’t just throw that all away with some overly emotional reaction.

“We… we disagreed on…” Logan sucked in a slow breath, forcing his twitching hands to calm. Janus’ eyes flicked down to his lap and made a note in the margin of his yellow legal pad. “On a few important things about the boys.” He shrugged, “Like all married people, I suppose.”

He nodded slowly, writing without taking his eyes off of Logan’s expression. “Your parents… disagreed a lot?”

In one breath, Logan was back in his parents’ old rambler in Oregon. He sat on his closet floor, making flashcards, a heavy AP History textbook open on his lap. Surrounded by hanging clothes, with his blanket shoved against the gap at the bottom, his father’s shouted words and his mother’s occasional responses were muffled and difficult to make out.

But the tones were unmistakable. And far too familiar. 

Logan couldn’t stop his hands from shaking so he crossed his arms over his belly, gripping and releasing the sides of his shirt. “Excellent motivation to get a scholarship to UW and move out on my own,” he said, an attempt at levity. His voice cracked at the end and Janus simply made another note on his legal pad.

Janus tapped the end of his pen against his lips and went quiet. Logan had observed him cross examine reticent witnesses often enough to have seen this tactic of his before. Given enough time under his ‘I have all day, how about you?’ gaze, even other attorneys who knew it was coming would start to sweat and say anything to fill the silence.

Logan was well practiced at holding his tongue.

“You were married for…” Janus flipped back to the front page and did the math. “Eighteen years.” Faster than Logan had expected, he’d moved on to the ‘I already know everything, you might as well answer my questions’ stage. “This is difficult. Difficult to talk about, difficult to re-experience,” he said, his voice softer than Logan had braced himself for and his eyes darted up, an unfamiliar expression on his boss’ face. “Believe me, I understand.” 

He nodded, then lowered his head and waited for Janus' next question, shields up and ready.

“Talk to me, Logan.” Without seeing his face, it almost sounded like a plea. “What made you finally decide to divorce?”

Eyes closed to avoid the inevitable ridicule on Janus’ expression, Logan forced a slow, deep breath. Still, his voice shook shamefully when he spoke. “How much of this has Roman already told you?”

“None." Logan looked up, the honesty in Janus' voice too strong to ignore. “Roman can be a bit of a drama king—”

“Excuse me?” Logan’s voice was sharper than he’d intended but instead of looking angry at his interjection, Janus merely looked surprised and… pleased?

“As is my Remus,” he said, the tone of that ‘my’ hanging in the air, as though he noted some other parallel between the brothers. Janus’ smile morphed into a bit of a smirk. “As am I, so I’ve been told.” Janus watched his reaction with interest and for a moment, Logan could have sworn his boss was about to add him to his list of ‘drama kings.’ Logan looked down and smoothed his tie for the sake of having somewhere else to look. “Personally, I think the world could use more drama kings,” he continued. “You never need doubt where you stand with us.”

Speak for yourself, Logan thought but did not say.

“Regardless.” Janus grew serious. “Unless you asked him to tell me something personal you’d shared with him, Roman would not breathe a word of it.” He lowered his legal pad. “And, aside from a very short list of legally required disclosures, the same is true for me. Your secrets are safe.”

He pinched his sides, a distraction from the tears already burning the backs of his eyes. Janus waited, but when Logan didn’t speak for several long moments, he prodded. “To do my job, Logan, I need to know everything.”

Logan deflated, the last shreds of his pride spooled in a tangled mess on the floor. “I know,” he sighed. 

“Was it more than 'disagreements' between you?” Janus asked again, even softer this time.

Logan’s bottom lip trembled, but the harder he tried to control it, the worse it got. He nodded and swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

“Much more.”

~

Eighteen years of practicing law plus two decade’s worth of his own personal experiences had muted Janus’ expressiveness in the face of misery. Remus worked hard to ensure it was a mask he could drop, that he had spaces where he was free to cry and shout and stumble and laugh. His husband spent an inordinate amount of energy and love ensuring he would not be swallowed up and consumed by his jaded attorney façade.

Janus clung to that jadedness now, letting it carry him as he fought to keep a mostly neutral expression while Logan recounted the gradual descent from storybook romance to a narrow escape from Hansel and Gretel’s witch.

It was a familiar story. While Q-Law received most of its funding from its flashier cases, the national attention garnered through their work on major legislation, fancy galas, and private benefactors, from a caseload perspective, a plurality of their work was in family law. Domestic violence cases in particular. Q-Law was there to serve a need in the queer community and, tragically, that’s where the greatest need lay.

What made this story different for Janus was he didn’t need to ask if anyone at his client’s workplace had the faintest inkling of just how bad, just how dangerous his home life had been.

Janus had had none.

Shame bubbled in his chest as Roman’s tight-lipped admonition ran laps through his mind. ‘Maybe you don’t actually know him as well as you think you do.’ This interview proved he most certainly did not.

He turned to a fresh page. “And which of these injuries did you actually seek care for?” Logan curled in on himself, the implied accusation harsh even to Janus’ ears. “That came out wrong, I’m sorry. I simply wish to retrieve hospital records,” he said.

“Do you—” Logan shivered and Janus checked the thermostat. The office was set to 71°F. “Do you really think that will be necessary?”

He frowned and sat back in his chair. Janus was accustomed to clients, particularly DV clients, demonstrating resistance to reliving and retreading these parts of their lives. But Logan was a lawyer. A lawyer who, thanks to his now explainable eagerness to pick up so many of the toughest DV cases, was arguably the most experienced DV trial lawyer in the firm.

What wasn’t he getting about this?

“We’ve only seen the initial petition, Logan,” Janus began as carefully as he could. A spark of annoyance he couldn’t quite suppress buzzed in his mind. “If she alleges any sort of—”

“I never hurt her. Not even—” His voice fell away and his eyes were drawn to the door. Fuck, he was losing him.

Janus looked down at the desk between them. He stood, wincing when Logan flinched. He brought his legal pad and a pen and sat at the other end of the couch, nothing between them now but a few feet of overstuffed leather sofa.

“What can you share, Logan?” he asked softly.

“I…” He sighed, shoulders curled over and he held out his right hand. A vague recollection of a college sports injury explaining away the titanium pins that triggered court metal detectors flicked across Janus’ mind.

“I had surgery at Evergreen for my wrist fracture. Started at the emergency room. There will be X-rays.” Janus’ pen flew across the page. “I left… AMA from Recovery.” He massaged the bone just above his wrist and from here, Janus could see the three little white lines from the incisions. “Kelly came by with the kids and… drove me home.”

“She convinced you to leave against medical advice?”

Logan looked away. “The doctor had called a social worker because my injuries were ‘inconsistent with the patient’s reported cause.’”

Janus nodded slowly and made a few marks on the page before flipping back to review the full list of incidents Logan had recounted. “This was in October 2011?”

“After Patton’s first diagnosis.”

He nodded again and flipped back to the mostly blank page, pen hovering over the sheet, ready for the next set of records to requisition. When Logan remained silent, Janus looked up. “Whenever you’re ready,” he prompted gently.

“That’s it.”

“What do you mean, ‘that’s it?’” He stared at Logan, brow furrowed as he turned again to the pages detailing the times their arguments had turned violent. The times that bitch had turned violent.

“That was the only injury for which I sought care.” His voice was stiff. Formal.

“What?” Janus hissed, calm façade cracking as he scanned the list. “You—your—The fractures in your hand?” Logan shook his head, eyes on the floor. “Your concussions, the burn, the—the tear in your lobe, you—”

“Dermabond surgical adhesive was sufficient to stop the bleeding.“

Janus scoffed. “You can’t just order that shit from Amazon!”

Logan merely shrugged. “It’s a basic veterinary supply. It isn’t that difficult to acquire.”

“I see,” Janus said more to his notepad than his client. Logan had used fucking vetbond on himself then went to work the next day like nothing had happened. His employee. His co-worker. Sour acid churned in his stomach. 

‘He’s your friend, too…’

Roman had been wrong. Janus had not been his friend.

He watched Logan over the top of his legal pad. Shame crawling up his spine, he wondered how many times he’d fucking laughed when Devin had sat where Logan was now and remarked how clumsy their quiet co-worker must be to so often have had some sort of limp or bandage or…

No. He couldn’t undo any of that. But he could fight like hell for Logan now. 

“Do you have friends who would be willing to support any of this with contemporaneous reports?” he asked, trying a new tactic. “Neighbors? Anyone you’ve been close with who knew what had really happened and would give a statement?”

“No,” Logan said. His fingers tapped the side of his knee in what more closely resembled a tremor than a fidget.

“What makes you so sure they’d be unwilling to come forward?” Despite humanity's general unwillingness to rock the boat even to save a person from drowning, Janus couldn’t imagine everyone in Logan’s life would be so reluctant to help. With the notable exception of Devin, Logan had always been kind and thoughtful to everyone in the office, unerringly polite and considerate. The first to pass around a card for birthdays or tragedies, despite the glaring omission of his own. There had to be someone.

“We could ensure their anonymity if they’re concerned about… social ramifications. She wouldn’t need to know they’d said anything.”

It was like convincing a rock. He wouldn’t even look up. “Logan, we’ve done it before. Domestic violence situations, particularly when witnesses consider both parties friends and—”

Logan shook his head. “You misunderstand me. I mean I… I have no… confidants from that period of my life. Your, ah…” Logan crossed and uncrossed his legs then wrapped his arms around his stomach, hugging himself. “Your brother-in-law is my first friend in a very long time.”

He looked down at his statement. “You… “ Sighing, he set the legal pad face down on the coffee table and turned in his seat to face Logan properly. “You have been through so much and…” He met his eyes. 

Janus used to wonder how people could be so blind when the people around them were suffering. How people could waltz through their days, ignoring the obvious hurt of those around them. But he’d been just as bad. Just as oblivious. “I'm sorry I never noticed the signs. That I never tried to help you.”

Logan looked away, rubbing the fingers of his left hand. Janus had always thought it a nervous habit. Now he wondered how much the mis-fused bones pained him. And how much of it was a reminder of that fight.

Finally, Logan shrugged. “I made every effort to ensure there was nothing for anyone to notice.”

They sat in awkward silence for a few moments, then Janus stood. “Can I make you some tea?” Logan looked up, surprise cutting through his mask. Janus smiled and spread his hands, gesturing toward the little kettle and bamboo box of matcha. “I know I could use a cup. I imagine you could, too.”

Logan huffed. “Got anything stronger than tea?”

Shaking his head, Janus chuckled and pulled his five-year Alcoholics Anonymous chip from his pocket. “Nope.”

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry, I—I didn’t know.”

“It’s all right, Logan. We… we’ve both had our secrets, haven’t we?” Janus checked the kettle and clicked it on, then pulled two mugs from underneath the tea caddy. “How long have we known each other?”

“Almost twenty-two years.”

Janus shook his head. “Far too long to not actually know each other.”

“Perhaps,” he said. 

The water rumbled in the kettle and Janus whisked it into the powder in the chawan, the steam carrying the bright, clean scent through the room.

“May I help with the tea?” Logan began to rise. “You don’t need to serve me.”

“Yes, actually, I do.” Janus looked over his shoulder and winked. “You’re older, so I pour the tea.”

Sitting back down, Logan shook his head, a tiny scowl wrinkling his brow. “I can’t be that much older than you.”

“Very nearly nine months,” Janus smiled as he poured Logan’s tea, then his own, and set both cups down on the table.

Logan’s face couldn’t decide if he should glare or grin.

“Don’t worry,” Janus nodded and waited for Logan to pick up his cup. “I promise I won’t rub it in too much.”

Smiling, Logan took a sip and set down his cup. 

“Besides, it’s bad manners to mock the elderly.”

A sudden belly laugh burst from the ordinarily quiet man.

“Careful there,” Janus murmured, sipping his tea. “Too much excitement at your age can't be healthy.” Shoulders shaking, Logan laughed until there were tears in his eyes and Janus passed him another tissue.

Janus slid a little closer on the couch and smiled. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you really laugh.”

“Well,” Logan nodded and raised his cup. “Here’s to twenty-two more years of hearing it.”

By the time they finished their tea, the clock on Janus’ desk chimed six times. “Damn,” he muttered, pulling out his phone and confirming just how late it really was. “I hope I’m not keeping you from your boys.”

“No,” Logan shook his head, turning the little cup in his hands. “Not at all. Patton is at Kelly’s this week. I’m not needed.” Janus frowned at his phrasing and Logan fumbled to explain. “He carpooled after school, and the…” He looked down and the desk lamp cast long shadows across his face, exaggerating the dark circles under his eyes. “The quarter’s started at Western.”

“Hmm.” More shaken by Logan's words than he wanted to admit, Janus took their empty cups and placed them in the basin on the bottom shelf of his tea caddy. “Any plans for dinner, then?”

-

Taglist: @crossiantgay

Ask to be added :D

[iamwritingsanders]

Inherited Mess Pt. 9

First: Link Previous: Link Next: [TBA]

Worries

Hours passed, and everyone was oddly quiet as Patton served dinner, placing plates of chicken in front of them. They all waited until Patton served himself and sat down before beginning to eat. Roman caught on to that habit fairly quickly. 

“Will Remy be able to join us tomorrow?” Patton asked. “I can make his favorite.” 

“He should be on his feet in the morning. The medics want to check how drowsy the pain medicine makes him before giving an estimation on how long he’ll be out of commission,” Remus said, poking at his food with his fork. 

“He’s going to be pouty until he’s cleared.” Virgil weakly laughed. “He’ll be giving you a run for your money.” He added to Roman.

“I do not…” Roman let his annoyed protest trail off when he noticed that Virgil’s joke got the others to laugh. He liked that change in mood a lot better. “If he gets grumpy, he’ll be giving you a run for yours.” Roman decided to tease back instead and relaxed when that also got a few laughs. 

“Shit, Roman, I was supposed to talk with you,” Remus spoke like the realization literally hit him, a hand going to his forehead. 

“It can wait till tomorrow,” Roman said with a shrug, just catching the hint of a proud smile Virigl had, and he did not know how to feel about how that got his face to go a bit warm.

“We can go back to the store tomorrow, Patton,” Janus said. “And then you and Roman can work on that sushi stuff you were talking about.” 

“Just the two of you going out?” Remus asked. “I’m not sure-” He stopped at the feeling of Logan’s hand on his thigh under the table. “Be careful, alright?” 

“Always.” Janus grinned while Patton softly giggled about why Remus changed his sentence. He didn’t need to see it to know what happened. 

“Remy likes sushi, so you’ll get a two-for-one with that dinner plan,” Virgil said. 

“You know a lot about Remy,” Roman commented.

“It’d be shocking if he didn’t.” Janus hummed with a chuckle. “Kind of hard not to know things about-ow, fuck! Virgil!” He snapped after Virgil kicked his leg hard under the table. 

“I didn’t do anything,” Virgil said and took a sip of his drink. 

“Wait, why is it not shocking that he knows a lot about Remy?” Roman tried again. 

“He’s likely referring to-shit!” Logan started answering and got kicked as well.

“Virgil!” Remus’ sudden harsh snap got everyone to go still. Logan felt the strong, protective hold on his leg, and he placed his hand on top of Remus’

“I’m okay,” Logan said softly. Remus’ eyes widened when he realized what he’d done.

“Shit, sorry. I’m just-shit.” Remus shook his head and stood up. “Sorry, I think I need to call it an early night. Thanks for dinner, Pat. I’ll see you all in the morning.” He shook his head more at himself before walking away. 

“I’m going to call it an early night as well.” Logan stacked Remus' plate on top of his own. “Dinner was delicious, good night, everyone.” He gave a quick nod and walked off as well. 

“It’s…weird seeing Remus like that.” Roman didn’t mean for that to be said out loud. 

“It is.” Virgil agreed. 

x~x~x

Dinner finished, everyone else split off to do their own thing, and Patton was alone in the kitchen doing the dishes. He was beyond talented at hiding his own worries, keeping a happy face, and laughing through it all to help others stay calm. His job wasn't just cooking, it was also helping to keep the energy happy. People went to him to feel better, to get a sweet treat, and a positive attitude. It was easy to turn off worried thoughts with others around, but when he was alone…that’s when the wall breaks.

Patton was scrubbing a clean plate, lost in his head as his hand moved in a sharp, repetitive movement. He was unaware of someone else coming into the kitchen as well and didn’t hear his name until it was said for the second time.

“Huh? Oh, sorry.” Patton put his smile on when he saw Janus and sat the clean plate aside before working on an actually dirty one. 

“What’s on your mind?” Janus had been with Patton long enough to be able to tell his real smiles from his trying-to-hide smiles. 

“It’s nothing,” Patton said out of habit. 

“What’s on your mind,” Janus repeated to remind Patton that it was just the two of them. There was a pause as Patton placed the new plate aside and was now working on cleaning the silverware. 

“You were supposed to go with Remy.” Patton finally broke the silence, speaking in almost a whisper. 

“That was the original plan, but Adrien insisted Remy would be able to handle it on his own.” Janus moved closer to Patton and noticed how he seemed to be fixating on a specific spot on a spoon. 

“You were supposed to go with Remy, and Remy got hurt because someone snuck up on him, and he got lucky the person missed, and if you-if you had gone-if you had gone, they might have…” Patton’s hands started to shake as his vision blurred with tears. “If you had gone they might have shot you, and they might have hit where they wanted and-and you-and you’d be-and you…” He was trying not to cry and sniffed as he watched Janus gently guide him to drop the sponge and spoon. 

“I’m okay, Remy’s okay, we’re all okay.” Janus took the dish towel and dried off Patton’s hands. 

“He got hurt. You could get hurt. You could die-” Patton’s voice cracked at the last word and he couldn’t hold back anymore. He grabbed Janus into a tight hug, hiding his face in the crook of his neck as he cried. “I don’t want to lose you.” 

“Oh, honeybun.” Janus used the pet name for Patton which was only ever used when they were alone. “I’m not going anywhere.” He rubbed Patton’s back with both hands. 

“You don’t know that.” Patton’s voice was muffled. 

“I do.” Janus moved Patton to straighten up just enough to be able to see his face. He placed his hands on Patton’s cheeks and used his thumbs to wipe away his tears. “Do you really think my stubborn ass is going to get killed?” Patton couldn’t help from giggling and put his hands over Janus’. 

“You are always careful out there, aren’t you?” Patton asked with a soft smile. 

“Of course, I am. I have the most important person in the world waiting for me to come home.” Janus smiled back as Patton giggled more and pressed their foreheads together. “You’re stuck with me.” 

“And I wouldn’t want it any other way, sugarplum.” Patton used his own pet name he only used when they were alone. Janus chuckled and pulled Patton into a light kiss. 

“Let’s head to bed.”

“It’s still fairly early.” Patton leaned into another kiss as Janus lowered their hands. 

“It won’t be by the time we’re done.” Janus chuckled.

“Done with-oh!” Patton took a second but he caught on to what Janus was implying. “Okay.” He squeezed Janus’ hands and was back to giggling as Janus walked them out of the kitchen. 

[abcdosaka]

i have such a love hate relationship with how gege writes women like he’s tackling the oppression of women and yet the women aren’t the important part of that conversation like he keeps killing them off 💀 it’s like how the walking dead would introduce a black character and immediately kill the previous main cast member black character

☝️ thing i can’t fault him for is that every female char is incredibly likeable. except maybe hana but tbh i still like her bc i could forgive women for anything she just got done dirty by the narrative. same with remi but honestly, instead of disliking her she made me dislike fushiguro a bit. (it’s not that i thought he’s at fault for anything i just disliked the set up for that arc) personally i think those two were the only major fumble writing wise. oh and tsumiki although i guess there wasn’t much more for her to do i was hoping she’d be more than a plot device (she was likeable anyway she made me like fushiguro more lmao)

omg i just realized what they all have in common is that they’re all related to fushiguro somehow.

another thing he does well is giving them their MOMENTS which to me is kinda more important than their depth in a battle shonen. like almost all the female combatants get a super raw moment. even hana shining that light on meguna was soo beautiful like idk that sticks out in my mind (until she fucked it up ofc)

nobara i think was actually rly well done. i still think there’s hope she’ll come back tbh. even though i said otherwise that’s just me pretending idc. yuki had a really good fight and she was so charismatic that i can forgive her death being related to choso so much (also bc i like choso). i just really wish we could have seen more of her earlier and know more abt her, esp her being a star plasma vessel, ik she was a supporting character but i was so hyped to see her in action. she’s one of my favs. tengen is also low key a fav even tho she didn’t rly do anything she’s well established and idk i just like her. uro is another fav who i need to see more of i hope she isn’t done for i feel like she got spared for a reason. yorozu was pure comedy i liked her and i kinda miss her i wish she stuck around longer. i stanned mai from her first appearance. maki is obviously my queen no words needed. i also thought momo was super cute and i still wanna know wtf that miwa panel was in the cg arc i think that was a genuine he forgot moment. mei mei and momjaku are freaks but i like them both they really help set the tone

ig the only issues are that 1) they keep dying and 2) their most important moments are related to a man somehow. i guess it makes sense bc it is aimed at a male audience but like if you’re writing abt women’s issues then you have to acknowledge the women in question as…people? that’s not rly what i mean to say but idk how else to phrase it. it feels like he wants to do a good job tackling these issues but he doesn’t rly get the core of the issue.

anyway it sounds like i’m shitting on him but the fact that he’s clearly making an attempt at expanding on the female characters instead of being like “here bitch damn” (and it’s a girl who gets one chapter of depth and is written out immediately after) is what actually touches my heart. altho ig he kinda did that with everyone but maki like i remember being surprised he went so far in the perfect prep arc for maki like i didn’t think she’d get a power up like that. and then in the sakurajima colony arc i didn’t know she’d continue to be relevant and then jumping sukuna with yuji like okayyy

the nice part of never getting fed is that crumbs are so delicious and nutritious for me. anyway i believe in kenjaku (old woman) x tengen heian era old woman yuri

[dhampiravidi]

"Don't close your eyes, baby. Look at me." (Pogue to Jayn ❤️ He likes eye contact ❤️)

"So, I take it ya like what ya see?" Remy LeBeau was hardly an inch away, and his hand still held hers. There was a slight chill, which made her realize that she was just in her oversized tee and panties. "Oh...damn, chere...you dress like dis f'me?" He kissed her and her head spun. It didn't take long before she was on the bed, hot Cajun superhero on top of her. They made out like they were in a movie. She was tugging on his hair and his hands were doing everything right...

"Mm, oh please, please, mmph--gods I'm--" Right as she started to feel fucking great between her legs, ready for him to blow her mind, the room and his face faded away. Jayn mentally screamed in the name of the injustice being committed. HOW DARE the universe--

She didn't even bother to open her eyes. The soft sound of the AC coming on was enough. Oh gee, real life.

"Hm?"

There was something firm and warm and nice on her legs: hands. Raising an eyebrow, Jayn (her vision still blurry from sleep) lifted up the sheet to find Pogue rubbing soft circles into her inner thighs and smirking up at her.

"Wondered when you'd wake up. I know we talked about that somnophilia thing, but...I could wait." Fuck yeah. Her perfect boyfriend had stayed up late watching movies with her, and the last thing on their list had been the X-Men cartoon from when they were kids (bless reruns). Apparently, he'd stayed the night, and apparently, she'd fancasted him as Gambit. Rogue was a lucky butt. "You plannin' on goin' back to sleep?" Pogue asked before he licked her through her damp panties. She whimpered.

"N-no..." He let her move so she could take off her underwear, then moved her back into place before she could rub her legs together. Pogue knew that having him there was her favorite position--his unbelievably strong hands held her open no matter how much she squirmed, and she loved the sexy look he got in his eyes during the whole thing. Oh yeah, and he was great with his mouth. Some wanted "neat" or some shit. She was perfectly fine with "messy and generous".

He swept his tongue up and down, back and forth, nice and slow, teasing her until she was fully awake and begging for him to fuck her. Then he slid two of his fingers inside her, twisting and curling. The whole time, she was gasping, desperately trying to thrust against something that'd give her some kind of release.

"Did he fuck you like this?" There it was, those eyes, that look--like he wanted to eat her alive. A chill ran down her spine, but it was an excited one. He was gonna wreck her. "Did he?"

"No, y-you didn't--"

"Hm?" His hand hovered over right where she wanted him. Where she so desperately wanted him.

"Mm?"

"Tell me what he did. Tell me how good he made you feel."

"We kissed..."

"That's all?" If he kept teasing and rubbing her like that, she was going to go insane in the next few minutes.

"It was you, okay?--y-you were Gambit, you saved me from this vampire clown who was very high maintenance, and then we flew to a hotel room and--"

"Es-tu aussi sucré que tes yeux?"

"Excuse me--what?!"

Pogue smirked, gently squeezing her inner thighs.

"Took French in school. Reid's idea." Of course. Reid probably thought learning French would get him a girlfriend--if not at Spenser, then in Europe. Jayn knew that Caleb had already been to England to meet his dad's relatives.

"So...? What was that?"

"More or less: 'Do you taste as good as you look?'"

"Pogue!" She might've hit him with a pillow if she hadn't been so busy trying to hide her embarrassed face in her hands. They both told dirty jokes, but he was a lot more creative than she was. He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her stomach.

"So you don't want me to taste you, mon fille [my lady]?"

"Fucking--fine," Jayn mumbled.

He really didn't need to be told twice. He treated her like she was melting ice cream, and he wasn't missing a drop. Pogue just took his time, too, not going any faster no matter how much she whined or squirmed. "Pogue, pl-lease--"

"God, you look so good like this..." He sucked hard on her clit, and she might've screamed loud enough to wake up Caleb in the next room if she hadn't covered her mouth in time. "Oh, babygirl, I wanna hear you," Pogue said, words dripping with faux disappointment.

"I can't--"

"You can't? Is Caleb the one you want to fuck you?"

"No..."

"Then c'mon, Jay. And don't close your eyes, baby. Look at me." He was grinning before he even saw her dark irises. She was almost as hungry for it as she was.

[seeabout-afterdark09]

Skrt On Me

Skrt On Me

Nicki Minaj (June 30, 2017)

Arriving fresh off the back of a successful summer so far, Nicki Minaj joins forces with Calvin Harris on his gem of a summertime album called Funk Wav Bounces Vol.1 for the tropical song Skrt On Me. Despite spending the earlier part of the year proving herself as a rapper amidst the beef with Remy Ma — Nicki mainly sings on this song, rapping for only one verse towards the end. Skrt On Me is a song that feels wistful and gives a sneak peek into Nicki's current state of mind as she fools around with potential suitors, completely in love with her independence as a single woman.

"You know my loving ain't free, babe/Won't make you do what you don't wanna do/What you don't wanna do, no, that ain't me, babe." Here, Nicki talks about her love of expensive gifts and lavish jewelry. The man in her life can't just satisfy her sexually but should be able to adorn her with gifts since he's trying to keep her attention. In 2017, Nicki was one of the most sought-after women in the industry, freely flirting in ways she couldn't in the past due to her relationship with Meek Mill. Nicki entertained Nas in early 2017, but then she quickly pivoted in the direction of the Toronto native that's spent the last few years of his career professing his love for her: Drake. It's no secret that Drake and Nicki reunited after Nicki's breakup, but they also hung out privately a lot more and spent more time around each other than they had in years. "I need you ten hut now, need you ten toes down, baby." Nicki might be playing into Drake's hand, but she needs security from him. The guarantee that if he's hers, then he'll stay hers and not wander off when she needs him. "Said if you ride, baby, ride up/Pull up from behind, baby, wine up/And you and me, we can shine up/So, baby, come make your mind up." Nicki pokes at Drake's indecisiveness, telling him that she wants to ride with him: as in, literally riding him (sexually) and riding with him as his woman if he really wants her like he says he does. Nicki uses the playful lyrics of the pre-chorus to sexually characterize how she wants him to be there for her. He can "pull up from behind" when they're dirty dancing, but also "pull up" when it comes time to hold her down so they can shine together.

This entire song is Nicki singing as she discreetly tries to communicate her wishes to the man she's dancing with about what she desires from him. At the end of the chorus Nicki sings: "'Cause you keep telling me your love ain't free, babe." Interestingly enough, in 2016 Dj Khaled and Drake released a tropical pop song (kind of like this one) where Drake raps about needing to be paid because the "sex is too good" for it to be free. "I always wonder if you ask yourself (Ask yourself)/Is it just me? (Just me)/Is it just me?/Or is this sex so good I shouldn't have to fuck for free?." Nicki knows how Drake gets down and knows that he won't stay in something if it isn't benefitting him. She knows that he could be looking at anyone, but he's giving her his attention — and while she has it she intends to hold him to his word and take him seriously, so long as he is honest with her. "Yeah, maybe I-I-I got so used to just giving you the least, babe/But nowadays, I need more from ya, I need something I can keep." Nicki knows that she's pushed him away in the past and wants him to know that she's trying to be better, she just needs more reassurance.

"And I'm playing the field, Brad Wing in the punt/I'ma tell him I love him in the foreign and cuff him." As much as Nicki is trying with Drake, she's still technically a single woman. They're both feeling each other out, taking steps to see each other without doing anything concrete that confirms anything. So in the meantime, Nicki continues "playing the field" having a couple of "new boys" as she waits for Drake to follow through and show her that he's worth it. "This the real thing, can you feel the force yet?"