#not too satisfied with this but fuck it we ball.........i drew this while streaming to my boyfriend :D

[angelicfangz]

haruka u will always be famous 2 me <3

#my art #yakuza 5 #haruka sawamura #yakuza #ryu ga gotoku #rgg #not too satisfied with this but fuck it we ball.........i drew this while streaming to my boyfriend :D

[allegra-writes]

"The Game"

Tom Holland x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut, daddy kink.

Golf is boring. You wanna play something else...

"Swinging on the front porch, swinging on the floor.

Swinging where we want, cause there ain't nobody home..."

Cherry Pie - Warrant

He should have known it was a trap. He should have known it from the very first minute. This was punishment, plain and simple punishment. Unusually cruel punishment. He didn't even know why he was so surprised, in fact, he should have seen it coming a mile away. After all, you were about as subtle as a train wreck. And that was exactly how you had hitted him. 

You had always despised golf, said it was snobbish and boring. But he always invited you to tag along just in case, because sharing one of his favorite activities with his favorite girl? That sounded almost like paradise to him. That was probably the reason why that morning, when you had jumped at the chance to join him at the country club, he hadn't suspected a thing.

Oh, how naive he was. How trusting of him. Because now, he had to play 18 while trying to conceal a throbbing, almost painful erection, watching you prance around wearing that. It was ridiculous. It was silly. It was cliche.

It was driving him completely insane.

Your little ensemble was straight out of some soft-porn movie set, he was sure of it: Keds, knee high socks… and a criminally short pleated skirt, especially designed to torture him. You guys weren't even half way through, and he was already about to snap, with his arms enveloping you, hands over yours on the handle of the club, as you bended over just a little, ass pressing against his pelvis just enough to tease him, to remind him how good it felt being buried to the hilt inside your tight, tight heat, the slapping sounds of skin against skin combining with your moans...

One of his hands let go of the club, subconsciously wrapping itself over your hip bone, when you moved, twisting, hips getting away from his. 

"Oh my god! I can't believe it, did you see that?" You turned around to face him, eyes alight with joy at having hit the ball for the first time in your life. 

And for a second, he felt bad. He was probably reading too much into it, chances were you didn't even know what you were doing to him. You were innocent in all that, it wasn't your fault not knowing just how damn irresistible you were, how hard you made him just by standing close to him…

Until he noticed the outline of your nipples under your white t-shirt, made almost see through under the bright sunlight. His eyes squinted in suspicion.

"Are you wearing any underwear?" He blurted out, cheeks immediately turning red, looking around to make sure no one had heard him. But there was no one around, not many people playing on a wednesday morning. In fact, you had the whole course pretty much for your selves.

His cock twitched inside his pants, but he shook himself, squashing the thought before it could take full shape.

You seemed to ignore him, as your face fell.

"I… don't think I was supposed to shoot it that way, though" 

Tom's eyes followed yours, but try as he might, he couldn't find the white dot he was looking for.

"Where the hell did it go?"

"I think it landed behind those bushes" You pointed to the far away patch of hydrangeas on the other side of the field. He couldn't help the snort that left his mouth,

"Yeah, that's not even close to where it should be!"

"Hey! Don't laugh at me"

"I mean, at least we know you have a strong swing" He let out between laughs

You rolled your eyes,

"Be gentle with me, this is my first time" 

The laughter died in his throat like you knew it would, as the innuendo hit him, eyes darkening as they roved over your body once again. You had to know what you were doing... 

You turned around so he couldn't see your smirk, as you started walking in big strides in the direction of the bushes, leaving him to struggle to follow you, carrying the bag full of clubs. 

It wasn't a bad sight, he had to admit, watching you walk ahead of him, your skirt bouncing with your movements, hips swaying gently from side to side. And it was even better as you reached the tall plants, parting the branches trying to see past them, bending over once again, your short skirt riding up your thighs, higher, and higher. He gulped, what little blood was left in his brain rushing south, as he saw the cleft where the round globes of your ass met your legs. You climbed on your tiptoes, and he choked on a groan: just a little bit more and the answer to whether you had or not any underwear on would be right before his eyes, literally…

"Found it!" You called out, victorious, falling to your heels again, walking around the lilac flowers, disappearing from sight, heedless to his disappointment. 

He knew it was a bad idea, as he trailed after you, like in a trance. But there you were, waiting for him behind the tall wall of bushes hiding you both from sight from every angle, mischievous glint in your eye.

The ball was nowhere to be found, and he finally understood.

Your stomach made a flip as Tom tugged at his glove with his teeth, discarding it on the green grass, his whole demeanor changing before your eyes, jaw squaring, eyes hardening, movements slow and measured as he circled you like a tiger stalking his prey. 

"You dirty little liar" He accused, watching the corners of your mouth twitch, trying to hide your satisfied smile, but it was useless: you looked every bit like the cat that got the cream. Well, he knew of another thing that looked great dripping down your chin…

"You think you're real clever, don't you? Really sneaky, teasing me all morning with this little outfit," He let his now naked hand trace your nipples, already hard under the fabric of your tee, making goosebumps erupt on your skin. He was right, you hadn't bothered with a bra, "making me hard with your little touches and smart mouthed comments…"

"Golf is boring" You shrugged, "I wanna play something else" 

He stepped back, away from you, leaving you feeling cold without his heat, despite the bright sunshine. 

"Too bad, baby girl, I'm done with games" His eyes were steel as he commanded, "Show me"

"Show you what?" You looked at him through your eyelashes, you knew how much he liked it when you played coy. But this time, he had told you the truth, the games were over.

"You know bloody well what" His south London accent was always heavy when his patience was wearing thin, "lift that little skirt and show me what's mine" 

You obeyed, and this time, he did groan, the wet patch on the simple white cotton of your thong almost better than his fantasies of your bare skin. 

He fell to his knees on the grass. God, he was so whipped! His plan had been to have you kneeling in front of him, choking on his cock as he fucked your mouth so deep and hard that tears would stream down your face. He would release himself down your throat, leaving you begging for his softening cock, his fingers, his tongue, his freaking golf club, anything to fill your empty little cunt. But of course all of that flew out the window the second he actually saw that pretty pussy through your panties, made almost transparent with your desire for him, the fabric clinging to every curve, every little detail clear for him to admire.

"Come here, baby girl" His tone was much softer as he spoke, "let daddy have a little taste" 

You did as you were told, never stopping to hold your skirt up high for him. Tom nuzzled the cotton, breathing you in before hooking one finger on the damp fabric, tugging gently to the side to reveal your most secret spot to him. He let his tongue poke out, placing kitten licks against your clit, eyes rising to meet your face. Your own were closed already, little frown between your eyebrows, as if the tiny shocks of pleasure coursing through your body confused you. So expressive. So responsive. 

How could he ever stay mad at you when you were so fucking perfect? It only took one taste of you to melt whatever was left of his anger, as he marveled of the angel whining so prettily above him, delicate fingers digging into his shoulders to support herself as her legs shook for him. It never failed to amaze him, to blow his mind. It had always been like that, he had put you up on a pedestal long before you had started dating. 

But now, he wanted to lay you down, and spread you open under the sun. 

He tsked at your huff as his tongue left you.

"No, baby, you don't get to complain today. You've been a very bad girl, so now," He helped you down onto your back on the grass, making quick work of your panties. Taking a hold of your ankles, he hooked them over his shoulders, aligning himself with your dripping center, "you're going to take my cock like a good girl" 

With that, he let his head breach you, entering you slowly, so slowly. Savoring every second, sliding in inch by inch, making you feel every millimeter of his thick, thick length as he buried it into your sweet pussy, stretching you to the limits of pleasure. He had you fold almost in half, as his pelvis finally met yours. You sighed, you had thought he would burst through your ovaries before he was completely seated inside you.

"Can you feel me, babygirl? Feel how deep I am?" 

You nodded, unable to form words. He relented, only a couple of inches, before surging back in. 

"Feel me stretching your tight little cunt? Fuck, it feels so snug…"

He drew back again, snapping back against you harder, making you cry out,

"Yes!"

"Only I can fill you like this" He breathed, in and out again, and again. And again, establishing a harsh rhythm, "This pussy belongs to me…" 

"Yes, daddy" You sobbed, obediently. By now you knew exactly what he wanted to hear. He tugged at your t-shirt, sneaking his hand under it, massaging your breast. 

"These pretty tits are mine…"

It was hard to concentrate with him railing you into the ground, fast, brutal. Making sure the base of his cock dragged against your clit just right with every thrust.

"Yours, daddy" You managed, somehow, earning yourself a smile. If wolves could really smile at lambs before gobbling them right up...

He leaned forwards, bracing himself on one arm, the other travelling from your chest, to your neck. To your jaw. His tumb caressed your lower lip, and you opened up to him. Two of his fingers slid inside your mouth, pressing down on your tongue, you sucked them eagerly, hollowing your cheeks just the way he liked. 

"My princess… so pretty with your mouth full" Tom praised, hips never stopping, plunging his cock into you as far as it would go, over and over again, "wanna fuck your beautiful face… but this pussy… feels too good"

You sobbed around his fingers.

"So good… won't let me go… a slave" His thrusts were becoming messy. Erratic. Tom took his fingers out of your mouth to flick your clit with them.

"No, Tommy! Too much…" You cried, pushing at his hand, overstimulated. But he wouldn't budge. 

"Don't care. You're gonna take it" He growled, but sweetly kissed away your tears. He needed you to come, fast. Because there was no way he was lasting much longer, and you knew what to say if you really wanted him to stop anyway. 

"Fuck… yeah, just like that" he could feel you tensing around him. You were almost there, and he was right behind you, "so good… gonna come, baby girl. Gonna come inside you…" 

You shook your head, too delirious to express it with words, but he knew. You didn't like feeling dirty, didn't like the smell. But he fucking loved it. 

"Oh yeah… gonna fill you up… and you're not getting those panties back" His smirk was devilish, filthy. And you were sure that, even without his cock jackhammering into you, you could have come from that look alone. "Gonna see myself dripping down your thighs as you walk…"

His movements were downright sloppy now, as his words edged himself as much as they were edging you.

"Gonna have you sit in the car just like that… ruin your fucking little skirt… OH, FUCK" 

You felt his cock swell, pumping his seed inside your loins. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from screaming, as his climax unleashed your own. Still, he kept moving,

"Gonna put your mouth around me while I drive…" There was no way the morning was ending without him having your mouth.

"Tom…" You could feel him begin to soften inside you, but he still wouldn't stop.

"Shhh, baby girl. Wanna make a mess…"

The end.

Buy me a coffee

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker #arvin russel #spiderman #the devil all the time

[trashytummiez]

The Worst Heartburn

I wrote yesterday's fic before seeing those last two pics @fungusfangs drew of Shiggy puking and chugging milk. So I decided to make a followup fic to cover the ending :3

Warning: contains belly kink bloating burps emeto hiccups indigestion nausea tummy play tummy rubs vomiting

Fallen pride was a bitch. Shigaraki just ate a massive bucket of Wumbo Extra Spicy Shrimp Ramen just to prove to Dabi he could. It left him with a big pooching tummy and a momentary high of smug satisfaction that quick went crashing down when his stomach began gurgling the worst gurgles Shigaraki had felt in ages. The immensely bloated young villain cradled his belly in a sickly manner burping heavily while Dabi watched with a smug grin on his scarred face.

But then Shigaraki gave a really deep and rumbling burp that started getting really wet at the end making Shigaraki cover his mouth and muffle the rest. His eyes widened like he felt something come up with that burp.

"...Unnf...ohh fuck I don't feel good..." Shigaraki grumbled until he gave an incredibly rich and gross closed mouth burp that got so wet at the end something else came up with the gas. When he tried to burp in his mouth again something even wetter rushed up and his eyes practically bugged out of his young but wrinkled face.

Dabi's grin dropped as fast as Shigaraki's did.

"...Oh shit..." Dabi uttered when he saw Shigaraki's body tense up. "Whoa whoa whoa whoa! Aim for the cup! Dude aim for the cup! Aim for the-"

Too late.

Because Shigaraki lurched forward with a large sloppy burp that brought with it a surge of vomit that splattered onto the ground...right next to the big noodle cup funnily enough. Shigaraki grabbed his bare stomach and held it firmly as he violently threw up those painfully spicy noodles.

"...Goddammit Tomura..." Dabi groaned and looked away with a shade of green on the patches of pale flesh he had across his face.

Dabi possessing the weak stomach that he did turned away and clamped his pierced nose shut. For as stoic and cheeky as he was the sight of anyone throwing up was enough to make him sick.

Shigaraki panted with his mouth hanging open as strands of drool seeped from his fangs.

"Unnngh...unf...mruhhh..." Shigaraki croaked weakly with tears streaming down his face. He thought it was over until another lurching feeling made his eyes and his mouth widen in time for another surge of bile to expel from his system. He puked heavily into the sick practically puking up the majority of noodles he ate which made his incredibly bloated tummy shrink down to the point where it was only bulging out in a normal bloat the way it had very early into his spiteful binge.

Dabi looked as miserable as Shigaraki did by the time he finally stopped throwing up.

"...Better?" he asked while looking away.

Shigaraki spat and panted giving a lifeless "uh-huh" as a response to his often antagonistic underling.

Shortly after some time had passed Dabi looked aside grouchily while using his cremation quirk to light the sick ablaze. The smell alone would've made Dabi puke his guts out as violently as Shigaraki did but because his flames were strong enough to burn someone's bones down to ash it made quick work of the mess Shigaraki left behind in no time flat and almost completely incinerated it to the point where even the smell was burned away.

While Dabi burned the ground a really wet burp caught his attention. He turned to the source which was Shigaraki all cleaned up and sitting on the couch ahead of Dabi chugging a gallon of milk. After showering himself clean Shigaraki changed into more casual wares that Twice was kind enough to get him. He was wearing an oversized gray t-shirt with sweatpants. His bare toes curled into the carpet while he brought the gallon back to his lips and greedily guzzled it down. Milk dribbled down his chin sloppily and spilled onto his chest while he kept one arm wrapped protectively around his still bloated stomach.

"...We might need to move y'know," Dabi uttered in a dry not remotely amused way while he watched Shigaraki cool his burning his mouth with the richness of heavy weighty and cold milk.

After pulling the gallon away Shigaraki gave another really deep burp and groaned.

"GruuuhblUurhp!!! Ungh...I have the worst heartburn right now..." he mumbled.

"...I can't imagine why..." Dabi replied and continued burning the spot where Shigaraki threw up until the spot itself was nothing but heavy smoldering soot on the ground.

Shigaraki was too miserable to pay Dabi's snark any mind. Instead he tried to take another swig of milk. But he had to stop before the bottle could reach his lips so he could burp again. He looked unsatisfied so he pounded his chest and gave a much bigger burp that left him moaning with relief. Satisfied he brought the bottle up to chug more milk and burped into it when he did so.

He just kept chugging more and more milk to cool his mouth and throat while also settling his aching tummy. It was definitely helping but again Shigaraki's belly swelled out from all the milk he was guzzling. Milk weighed so much more than water and gave his pooching tummy a more bottom heavy quality than it did when he was stuffed with noodles.

That cool creamy liquid felt so good going down. Usually too much cold at once was painful for Shigaraki but because everything burned it struck a perfectly cooling balance helping to settle everything instead of giving him brain and tummy freeze. But shigaraki's belly was getting so bloated that even his oversized shirt looked like it was barely containing his tummy after a while.

He got about halfway into his gallon then pulled the bottle away from his lips. Shigaraki panted breathlessly while milk continued dribbling down his chin and then he let out a really long burp. After wiping his mouth and chin clean Shigaraki set the bottle down and dropped his hands down on his big rounded belly. It jiggled heavily beneath his hands and made Shigaraki burp so loud that Dabi almost flinched at its harsh sound.

"Shit you weren't kidding about the heartburn were ya," Dabi complained as he rang his ear out.

Shigaraki huffed and pulled his shirt up. Straight away his big pale belly practically flopped out and spilled heavily against his crotch pushing his sweatpants down just a bit. It looked incredibly soft and jiggly from just how much milk Shigaraki had chugged. When he gave the side of it a pat the whole thing rippled under his hand and made all the liquids in his tummy slosh heavily and noisily.

"...Fuck I'm so goddamn bloated..." Shigaraki mumbled while he rubbed his smooth ample ball of a stomach tenderly. His fingers sank into his flesh while they ran up and down his tummy. Shigaraki ran his hands down until he was cupping his underbelly in both hands. The villain bit his lip and leaned back to scoop his belly up in his hands and lift it. He was kind of surprised at how good it felt and just marveled at the size of his tummy.

He gave his belly a little jiggle which made it sway heavily in his hands from all the milk sloshing around which made Shigaraki hiccup loudly. Then Shigaraki released his belly and let it bounce down over his pelvis then slapped his hands onto his belly to stabilize it with a satisfyingly fleshy thump. Doing so caused a massive burp to escape Shigaraki's mouth. The force was so strong that the flesh on his tummy quivered slightly.

Shigaraki's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he moaned and arched his back with relief curling his bare toes even more. "Fffffuck that was a good one..." Shigaraki groaned like he was in an almost sexual euphoria. That could've just been because Shigaraki was shameless and had no barriers to speak of.

Though the honest truth is the feeling of his stomach this full and feeling it up had an odd appeal to it for Shigaraki. Especially when one of his fingers began to fondle his deepened belly button. That feeling made shigaraki's spine tingle in a way he couldn't quite explain.

Dabi happened by when Shigaraki was playing with his navel and whistled as best as he could with his limited lower lip function. "Jeez when's the lil bastard due anyway?" He teased and patted Shigaraki's round pooching tummy.

The pat dislodged a gas bubble and caused Shigaraki to burp ferociously in Dabi's direction which made the scarred villains face sour.

Rather than look embarrassed or apologetic Shigaraki grinned a shameless almost drunken grin back at his subordinate. "It's due around the time someone finally gifts you a less thotty personality."

Dabi glared at Shigaraki and lightly punched Shigaraki's big jiggly belly. "I resemble that remark motherfuck-"

The cremator couldn't even finish his sentence before a giant burp erupted out of Shigaraki from the punch. Dabi could feel Shigaraki's belly reverberate and jostle from the pressure being released and immediately closed his eyes with a stoically murderous look. Shigaraki looked insufferably satisfied with how that played out.

"...Right well...fuck you very much," Dabi simply said and started to walk away.

"You're not going anywhere," Shigaraki said before Dabi could exit the room.

"Come again?" Dabi asked with a bemused look on his face.

Shigaraki held up a finger and grabbed his thick churning tummy with one hand. Then he balled his finger into a fist and brought it to his mouth in time to give a huge closed mouth burp that rumbled so hard in his mouth that his lips could barely hold it back. He carelessly blew the gas out of his mouth and gave Dabi a shiteating grin. "You hear this thing?" He asked and shook his engorged tummy around which made it jiggle and slosh while he hiccuped and burped afterwards. "Unf...I'm gonna be burping for at least an hour straight. And I'm definitely gonna want an audience for that..."

To prove his point Shigaraki slapped his glutted belly and gave a giant burp that crescendoed into a relieved sigh that had Shigaraki's tongue sticking out lewdly.

Dabi's facial expressions fell completely flat. His only response was to very slowly raise both of his middle fingers in Shigaraki's direction and point them as hard as he could at his villainous boss to really drive home the big "f u" he was getting at.

Shigaraki cackled which made his tummy jiggle heavily with his evil giggles.

Maybe riding this out wasn't going to suck as much as he thought.

Misery loves company after all.

#kink fic #shigaraki #dabi #belly kink #bloating #milk chug #burping #sick fic #vomiting #emeto #emetophilia #tummy rub #tummy ache #liquid bloat #kink discovery #hiccups #stuffing

[shorkbrian]

Jerk

Oh Jesus y’all I can’t handle these thirsts they’re making em flustered as heck oh no.

oh frick but really doe Bakugou is soooo mean and he’s probably the type that’s into degrading and humiliating his partner, totally has dacryphilia and can’t get off unless you’re crying big, fat, salty tears. He honestly likes you, likes having you around and enjoys your additions in class discussion. But you’re just so easy to bully, he can’t help himself. He tells you it’s your fault, if you put up more of a fight he’d back off. If you didn’t just take his insults and jabs at your character lying down, he’d leave you alone. But he never would. nasty dude.

(College au lol)

TW - noncon, NSFW, handjob, crying, Bakugou is not nice but what's new.

Sometimes he’ll corner you on campus, knows you have evening classes and waits to haul you behind the building as soon as your class ends. Talking to you in a quiet, dangerous voice as he forces you back there, his hot hands gripping your arm (far too tightly), his erection brushing against your ass with each agonizing step.

“Hey (Y/N), you little bitch, did’ya miss me? No? Too bad.”

“You better shut your whore mouth, don’t want the entire campus knowing how much of slut you are. Saying “stop” isn’t going to make me do anything but fuck you harder, stupid bitch.”

“What’re you gonna do, tell someone? Who’s gonna believe a pathetic little extra like you, hmm? I’m their quarterback baby, they can’t afford to lose me. No, you’ll fucking do whatever I say.”

Once behind the building, pressed against the wall, he’ll slap your face, once, twice. Red paints your cheeks, and you’re already crying at the sting. Bakugou just grins, enjoying every second as he squishes your face in his hand, bringing his face close to yours. So close, you can feel each hot puff of air on his every exhale. So close, you can see the beauty of his ruby red eyes, darker maroon flecking the bright iris. Pity Bakugou was so mean.

A beat passed, the two of you just looking at each other, breathing each other’s air. Then he kissed you, mashing your lips together, squeezing your jaw until you opened your mouth, let him inside like you always did.

When he pulled away, you were gasping for air, hand coming up to wipe at the tears streaming down your face. Bakugou huffed, before planting both hands on your chest and pushing. You let out a distressed cry as you were shoved backwards, loosing your balance and falling down into the dirt. You’d probably have bruises later. Who were you kidding, you were with Bakugou. Of course you’d have bruises later.

The blonde crouched down, cocking his head to the side as he watched you, eery smile on his face. You didn’t like that look. You scrambled backwards, pushing at the dirt and scuffing your hands until your back hit a wall. Bakugou stayed where he was.

“You’re so fucking stupid, only thing you’re good at is being a shitty little toy for others to push around. You realize that? That’s all you are. Nothing. Worthless little pussy on legs.”

His words stung, and you had to scrub at your eyes again, wiping away the fresh wave of tears. In doing so, you didn’t notice him stand up, stalk closer, until he was towering over your sitting form. When he “tch’ed” you jumped, looking up.

“Get the fuck up.”

You hesitated.

A hand grabbed your hair, Bakugou’s face twisting into a snarl.

“Now.”

You rose as quickly as possible, finding yourself face-to-face with your aggressor once again. Well, face-to-chest. Then you were flipped around, shoved against the wall of the building as hands began kneading at your chest.

“Mmm, shit baby, you’re always so damn soft.”

A gasp escaped you when he started pinching, grasp becoming firmer and more demanding until it hurt, the man pulling at your chest now. The hard, considerable bulge of his erection was humping against your ass slowly, as if Bakugou was savoring each little thrust of his hips.

“So easy. Bet you would bend over for anyone who asked, wouldn’t you? Slut. You’re just a little cockwhore, ain’t that right?”

He took a few steps back, pulling you with him until he could bend you at the waist, still grinding against you. But in this position, his cock was pressed against your clothed cunt, delivering delicious friction to your clit. You resisted the urge to wriggle your hips in order to chase that feeling. “Hey - “  A slap landed across your ass, and even through your jeans, you could feel it burn. “I asked you a question bitch. Answer me.”

You whimpered.

“Y-y-yes Bakugou..... I am.”

“You’re what? I didn’t quite hear that last part. ”

You could hear the sneer in his voice, wincing at the pressure as Bakugou groped at your chest.

“A-a cockwhore.”

“Fuck yeah you are, I can feel you getting wet down here.” He pulled away from your body, lending you relief for a half a second before he smacked your cunt, hard. “You’re so desperate!”

He was gleeful as he turned you around again, pushing you into the wall. He was always pushing. Pushing over your books the first time he met you, pushing your boundaries, pushing for you to come up to his dorm while his roommates are out, pushing your sanity.

You shuddered as the blond unzipped his jeans, groaning as the zipper pressed against his dick as he pulled it down.

Closing your eyes, you swallowed. You didn’t know what he was going to do next, didn’t want to see the manic look on his face as he decided which part of your body to get off on today.

You weren’t surprised when you felt his hands grab yours. He pushed himself flush against you, and you knew without looking that his cock was standing up proudly, bobbing against his stomach. If you breathed in too far, expanded your lungs, your could feel it twitch against your abdomen. You tried to take short breaths.

His hands guided yours to wrap around his dick, and the second you felt the hot flesh touch your hand, that’s when the waterworks really started. You were crying uncontrollably as Bakugou forced your hands around him, thrusting upwards shallowly, head dropping to your shoulder with a choked-off groan. He wasn’t squeezing your hands too tight, enjoying the soft, loose grip for now.

When the man grew impatient of this, he let go of one of your hands, reaching up at swipe at your face. He was trying to wet his hand with your tears.

‘C’mon (Y/N), keep crying.”

You were bawling, tears dripping off your chin, snot beginning to flow from your nose. Just like Bakugou liked it. He kept on wiping at your face, collecting the tears and snot and drool, before rubbing his hand on his cock. Then he’d make you jerk him, testing to see if it was wet enough for his comfort. The more time passed, the more tears fell.

It took a bit, but finally Bakugou was satisfied with the amount of wetness coating his cock. Grabbing your free hand again, he guided it back to his cock. When you struggled to rip our hands away, his grip just tightened, crushing your digits between his hands and his cock.

There was no preamble, no gentle beginning. Bakugou was thrusting like a mad-man, head once again on your shoulder. You could hear him moaning softly, above the slick sounds of the messy handjob. It was sickening. 

When his hips kicked up another notch, plump balls smacking into your wrists with each thrust, you knew he was close. It took just a few more frantic pumps of his hips before Bakugou was spilling over, hot cum dripping out, leaking onto your hands and dripping down to your shoes.

You tried to pull away again, letting out a desperate sob as Bakugou kept your hands anchored, his hips still moving, almost grinding himself up into your hands. His breath was stuttered, heavy and panting in your ear.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, oh that felt damn good.”

Finally he released your hands. 

Reigning back in your sobs, you looked at them, fingers dripping and palm wet and sticky with the mans cum. You hated him so much.

The sound of pants being zippered drew your attention, head snapping up to look at Bakugou. He was watching you intently, wiping his own hands against his jeans. A sigh of relief. Usually he tried to fuck you, or get you off. It looked like tonight he would be satisfied with just a handjob. You were going to go shower until your skin peeled off, then sleep for a day or two, classes be damned.

“Wipe it onto your slutty little cunt.”

...

“What?? B-b-bakugou you-”

“Wipe it onto your. cunt.”

He leveled you with a glare, hands crossing over his chest. You were frozen.

“Geez bitch, do I need to do it for you? Just fuckin’ wipe that shit onto your pussy, it’s not that hard.”

Trembling, you obeyed, wincing was you stuffed your hands past your jeans, past your underwear. You cringed when you felt how wet your slit was, how inflamed and puffy you felt down there from Bakugou’s teasing rutting earlier. Bakugou watched with a smirk as you pressed your hands against yourself, doing your best to wipe off his cum. 

When you finished, the man looped an arm around your waist, causing you to squeak in alarm. You recoiled from his touch, breathing hard, but he wouldn’t let go.

“What, you thought you were done? Thought a fuckin’ lame excuse for a handjob would satisfy me? God - “ He snickered loudly, beginning to pull you along, forced to walk beside him “ - You really are a stupid slut.”

You bit your lip, tears still wetting your lashes. It was uncomfortable to walk with the amount of wet in your underwear, the thought of Bakugou’s cum just sitting there making your stomach roll, tensing.

“Can’t wait ‘till we get back to my place; shitty roommates are gone for a few days, thank fuck. Can finally try edging you all night, use your body like a toy and shit like that. Fuck, I’m excited.”

You were going to throw up. 

#yandere #yandere oneshot #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere bakugo x reader #bully #bully Bakugou #mean Bakugou #what's new lol #tw noncon #tw dubcon #bakugou #yanderebakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader

[toxophilitis]

Mom’s Naughty Urge  cont.

CHAPTER NINE

Jessica and Jon stood outside Bob's bedroom. They had finished their shower and dried each other in the bathroom. Jessica had mentioned the possibility that they might approach Bob and Rob that night and ask them to join their sexual activities. Jon had agreed immediately. He was so horny now that he would agree to anything, and he had told her so.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this, darling?" she asked.

"Sure, Mom. Why not?" Jon asked, his cock throbbing in front of him.

Jessica opened the door of her boy's room and stepped in with Jon. The horny pair moved quietly to the side of Bob's bed and stood there for a second or two. Jessica bent down and drew her son's sheet off his body, exposing his naked body. She stared at his sleeping cock, longing to have it inside her again.

Jon flicked on the light and sat down on a chair while his mother worked her magic on his kid brother. She bent over him and blew a stream of warm moist breath over his cock and balls. She put one warm hand on his lower stomach and began fondling his balls with the other. She touched his resting cock with her lips, flicking out her practiced tongue and licking his cockhead.

It wasn't long before Bob's cock started to harden. The thing stood up straight from his body, filling with blood before his mother's eyes and thickening until it was at full erection. Jon thought it was funny that his mother could turn his brother on in his sleep. He couldn't help chuckling, and it was the sound of his laugher that stirred Bob from his sleep.

Jessica motioned for Jon to stand by the bed with her. He stood up and wrapped his arm around his mother, looking down at his brother as he opened his eyes. Bob stared up at the two as if he were seeing them in a dream. When he realized that his dream was reality, he jumped up and swung his legs out of the bed, sitting up and staring at his naked mother and his hard-cocked brother.

Jessica and Jon both laughed when Bob shook his shaggy head and rubbed his eyes in disbelief. It was easy for the two to understand his amazement at waking up and finding them beside him. Jessica sat down on the bed with Jon and whispered in her son's ear.

"Sorry we had to wake you, Bob, darling, but we just had to see you. Will you forgive us?" she asked.

"Uh... sure, Mom," he choked, looking over at his big brother and staring at the hard dick that stuck up from his lap. "But... uh... how come Jon's hard like that?"

"That should be rather obvious, Bob," she smiled. "You see darling, I've decided that it really isn't fair of me to share the joys of fucking with only one of my sons."

"You mean you've been doin' stuff with Jon too?" Bob asked.

"She sure has man," Jon said. "I just got though fuckin' her."

"I might as well tell you that Rob has been sharing me too," she said.

"Rob?" Bob said.

"But he has a nice hard dick, Bob. And I've taught him how to use it."

"You mean we've all been fuckin' you?" Bob asked amazedly.

"You've been keeping me awfully busy, Bob," Jessica smiled, reaching down and touching her son's naked leg.

"This is somethin' else," Bob said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"This is somethin' else too," Jessica laughed, letting her hand fall between Bob's legs and rest on the towering length of masculine flesh that stood up from his lap.

"Wow, Mom! What are you gonna do?" Bob asked, clamping his legs together.

"I don't know, darling. I thought I might start by jerking you off until you're good and stiff. Then I thought I might bend down and suck your delicious cock for you. And then..."

"But, Mom, Jon's watchin'."

"Who gives a shit?" Jon said with a dirty grin. "What're you embarrassed about, brother?"

"Jon is right, darling. You really mustn't be embarrassed. Relax and let yourself go. We'll have wonderful fun together."

"I'm ready," Jon said, reaching down and stroking his rigid dick.

"Okay, Mom... if that's what you want. I guess it does sound like fun," Bob agreed.

"Wonderful! Now let's go and tell Rob about our plans."

"Rob? You kiddin'?" Bob gasped. "You mean we're all gonna do it together?"

"Of course, darling," the horny mother smiled, leading her two boys to the door. "We're one happy family aren't we?"

The boys had to admit that they were one happy family, and their mother was making them happier all the time. There seemed to be no end to the surprises their mother had in store for them. The boys watched her wiggle her pretty ass down the ball in front of them, her asscheeks rising and falling in perfect rhythm as she walked.

When they reached Rob's room Jon reached out and cupped his hand over the tufted mound of his mother's cunt from behind. He moved his fingers against the dewy lips of her cunt until she giggled with delight. Her girlish giggles provoked a boyish laugh from Bob, who reached out and scuffled with his brother in an effort to put his hands between her legs too. They were still scuffling when they burst into Rob's room.

He sat up in bed and stared at his mother and his two older brothers as they scuffled in the doorway. It was obvious that they were both after their mother's cunt. They were playfully pushing each other out of the way to get at her.

"Boys! Boys! Please! Now see what you've done! You've awakened Rob!" she said in mock seriousness, brushing Bob and Jon away and falling to her knees between Rob's legs.

"Gosh, Mom. What's happenin'?" he rasped.

"That depends on you three boys," Jessica sang. "You boys could make something wonderful happen here tonight."

"We're gonna make somethin' happen all right," Jon said excitedly, stepping up behind his mother and laying his long hard-on across her shoulder.

"We're all gonna make it with Mom tonight," Bob said, sitting on the bed with Rob.

"You shittin?" Rob asked hoarsely.

"No shit, man!" Jon said, rubbing his dick against his mother's shoulder.

"Why don't I just start the festivities by sucking your delicious cock, Rob darling," Jessica smiled, bending down and engulfing her son's prick with her eager mouth.

Jessica took Rob's hard-on all the way down her throat, running her tongue up and down the silken shaft of his organ. She pressed the head of his swollen cock against the roof of her mouth with her tongue and bobbed her head up and down on it, making his nuts ache more and more by the second. She reached out with the eagerness of a bitch in heat and grabbed Bob's dick at the same time, squeezing it tightly and stroking it in he silken fist.

Bob moved closer to his brother. When his cock was as hard as a baseball bat she pulled her head off Rob's rod and went down on her, sucking him wildly until she thought he was ready to shoot a wad down her throat. When Bob began grunting she pulled away from his aching tool and poised her lovely face over Rob's dick again.

"How about me, Mom?" Jon asked, his swollen rod rubbing hot and hard against her silken shoulder.

"I have plans for you, Jon," she said in a smoldering voice. "Is your cock big and hard?"

"Shit yeah, Mom. Just look at it," he said, moving his rod close to her lovely face.

"Ummmmmm," Jessica said, turning and staring at the swollen knob of his dickhead, flicking out her tongue and catching a droplet of pre-cum on the tip of it. "Why don't you fuck me right in the cunt while I suck Bob and Rob?"

"How am I supposed to do that?" Jon asked.

"She wants you to fuck her from behind, stupid," Rob said.

"That's right, Jon. I want you to stick that cock right up my cunt and screw the piss out of me. Rob and Bob have already done that for me, darling. I'm sure you'll enjoy it too. And boys, you mustn't make fun of your older brother because he hasn't had as much experience in fucking as you have. After all boys, I only started teaching him tonight."

Jon flushed with embarrassment, but managed a half smile.

"I'll just bend over like this," Jessica said, spreading her long lithe legs and bending over until her lips were only an inch or two away from Bob's dripping cock. "You just sink that big hard cock of yours right up my little cunt," she said, her pussy flowing with warm honey.

Jessica waited until her oldest son stepped up behind her and pushed his cockhead up against her hot cunt. Then she reached between her legs and guided her boy's hard tool between her cuntlips. She gasped when he bucked his ass and drove the jerking thing into her.

"Oh God! Yessssss! It's so big and thick!" she cried as she felt his swollen cock stretching her tight pussy. "Fuck me! I need it inside me! I need it throbbing in my cunt! Oh Jon it feels so wonderful!"

"Suck my dick, Mom," Rob said.

"I'm first Rob," Bob insisted, his rock-hard cock throbbing.

"Shit, man! I'm older than you!" Bob growled.

"Na, boys. You mustn't fight over me. Perhaps we can arrive at an arrangement that will satisfy both of you darlings. Now who shall I suck first? They're both delicious. Bob's is big and thick and Rob's is just dripping with love-juice. I can't make up my mind. I think I'll just have to suck both of them at once," she said lasciviously.

"Both of us at once?" Bob said amazedly.

"Of course, boys. That way I won't cause any friction, only the friction of your cocks rubbing together in my mouth. Now stand up, darling. That's right. Face each other. Perfect. Now rub your cockheads together. Doesn't that feel good, boys?" she said lasciviously, her cunt dripping with honey as her moved his rod slowly and gently inside her cunt from behind.

Bob and Rob moved their slippery dicks together for a while as she watched. They had to admit that it felt pretty good. There seemed to be no end to the wild things she could teach them. Jessica enjoyed watching them, but she was too horny to resist temptation for another second. She reached out and grasped their two rock-hard pricks, pulling them together and stroking them up and down. Their cocks were so thick when she pulled them together that she had to use both hands to encircle their tools. Her fingers slid up and down easily on their slippery dicks. The boys had never been hornier in their lives.

Jessica flicked out her tongue and tasted the heads of their cocks. She moved her fingers so as to make their dicks rub, together while she jerked them up and down. She never topped jerking them off while she licked their purplish swollen dick heads. Eager for the taste of hot cock, Jessica finally opened her mouth as widely as she could and tried to take the two boys' swollen cocks into her sweet face.

"Wow, Mom! Your lips sure feel good," Rob said.

"Yeah. If you didn't do stuff like this for us we'd still be beatin' off every night. You're the greatest!" Bob said.

"Your cunt sure does feel great," Jon rasped, grinding his dick in a circular motion inside her cunt.

Rob and Bob began flexing the muscles of their asses, driving their rods deeper and deeper into their mother's sucking face. They felt their cock-shafts rubbing against her pearly teeth, making them shiver with pure pleasure. Her throat sucked at their pricks, making their balls swell with hot cum. Jessica didn't know how she could possibly take both of her sons' cocks all the way down her throat, but she was trying valiantly. She was on the brink of choking already, and their cocks were still far from the back of her throat. She felt her cunt blazing, and that fire in her twat made her try even harder to swallow their cocks all the way.

"Suck 'em, Mother! Suck them dicks! Suck 'em hard! Oh yeah! It feels great!" Bob rasped, beginning to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet.

"Yeah, Mom! Take 'em all the way down your throat! Make us come! We gotta come in your mouth, Mom!" Rob growled.

Jon pistoned his mother's cunt harder and harder by the second. His nuts slapped against his mother's steaming pussy as he fucked her. He could hear the wet slurping sounds that his dick made as it punched in and out of her seething pussy. Jessica was alive with sensation from head to foot. The friction of Jon's cock against her hot little clit was causing a raging fire in her belly. She gobbled Rob and Bob greedily, licking their cock-shafts, sucking them, nibbling their dick heads. Her tits shook when her banged his body against her.

Jessica reached between her legs and grabbed Jon's heavy swinging nuts. She squeezed his swollen cum-filled balls tightly, tugging at them as he rammed his distended dick in and out of her sucking sheath. Her pussy juice was being worked into a heady froth by the shaft of her son's cock as it banged in and out of her. She had never felt so well fucked, so full of hot throbbing cock. She had been surrounded by throbbing dicks and urgent horny males once before, in the woods on the day of her rape by the bikers long ago. But this was different. Her boys were not trying to hurt her.

They were only trying to make her feel good, and they were definitely succeeding. She was thoroughly enjoying their power.

It was so exciting!

"God, Mom! I'm gonna shoot it!" Jon grunted, thrusting his rod deep into her sucking cunt. "I'm gonna shoot my fuckin' wad right up your cunt, Mom!"

Jessica suddenly felt Jon's cum shooting inside her. She knew that Rob and Bob were about to fill her face with hot cum too. She wanted to swallow their jizz, but she needed them hard, needed their dicks in their present excited state. In order to save their cum and the stiffness of their dicks she suddenly stopped sucking them.

"Gosh, Mom. Aren't you gonna suck us off and make us come?" Rob asked, his nuts aching.

"I want to keep you hard, darlings. I want you boys to fuck me now."

"Oh shit, Mom! This is wild! I'm still shootin'! I can't stop! Your cunt's sucking it out of me!" Jon rasped, his balls pumping spurt after hot spurt of cum into her.

"Oh Jon! I love it, darling! You make me so hot! I love your dick jerking inside me. Do it, darling! Keep shooting your cum up my cunt! Don't ever stop! Fill me with it! I want to feel it dripping down my legs! Drown me in it!" she cried, abandoning herself to her depraved desires.

Jon pumped her pussy full of cream until he was actually too weak to stand up. By the time he had finished fucking her his legs were shaking. He had to pull his cock out and fall into bed with her two horny brothers.

"That was somethin' else! Wow! And you lucky fuckers have been doin' this stuff all this time? You should've told me. I've been beatin' off all this time for nothin'," Jon said.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, darling. And our fun is only beginning," Jessica smiled wickedly, bending over Jon's dribbling dick and licking the head of it.

While she was bent over Jon's rod, Rob kneeled behind her and began licking her open cunt, tasting her free-flowing feminine juices and his own brother's cum. His tongue raced over her flesh, driving her wild. She was ready for another cock in her cunt. She decided that it might be fun to have one up her ass too.

[getitinbusan]

AKA: Smash Cake 

Jeongguk Smut

The little shit was grinning from ear to ear humming happily as he licked his finger. He was so wrapped up in sneaking the frosting that he didn't even notice you watching from the hallway.

"Look what you've done Guk!" Analyzing the cake you reprimanded him.

"You've ruined it! It's your nephews first birthday and you've fucking eaten his cake."

He was unfazed, "I thought you were getting in the shower? You're still covered in icing and we've got to go soon."

He laughed, trying to look cute. 

"Or maybe I can help with the mess," he moved towards your neck taking a nibble at your collar bone. 

"It's not going to work this time."

You shoved him away but it did nothing to erase the cockiness he was displaying.

"I worked really hard on that Guk, this isn't funny...or cute." 

"Babe, it's a smash cake. He's one, he doesn't give a shit what it looks like." 

You stepped back at his words, "Just a smash cake? Your family trusted me with this, I can't believe how little self control you have." 

He winked at you, "Y/N, I know that you know that I have a weakness for sweets."

He swirled his finger over top of the cake and scooped a big chunk of frosting into his mouth. Your eyebrows raised and your jaw dropped at his bold move.

"Here's what I think..." he looked so pleased with himself.

"I think that you knew I'd eat the cake. I think you told me you were going for a shower just so you could catch me." 

You couldn't help but smile as he provided his analysis of the situation.

Dipping his finger into the frosting again he pushed it past your lips smearing it on your tongue.

"I also checked the fridge when you went upstairs and I know this is a decoy cake to keep me away from the real one." 

You couldn't help but chuckle, "It's like I know you or something."

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a kiss.

"You know what the best part about a smash cake is Jeongguk?"

He knew where this was going but he couldn't catch your hand fast enough. With a quick swipe you covered his face with buttercream.

"You're in trouble now."

The kitchen was filled with fits of giggles.

He was faster than you this time, his arms tightened around yours keeping the cake out of your reach. 

"I'm in trouble? You're the one who wanted the cake, I did you a service." 

"Is that what you're after, you set me up because you wanna service me?"

You were trying to squirm out of his strong grasp but resistance was futile. 

"You got your cake brat, what else could you possibly want?"

His grip loosened, "Cake and a blow job?" 

You turned to face him and licked the frosting off his cheek.

"That's it? Are you sure you don't want me to cook you a steak to go with that?" 

"Now you're just being ridiculous, it's not like it's my birthday."

Without confirmation he confidently dropped his shorts.

This was going to be fun, messy...but fun. Wrapping your buttercreamed hand around his hard dick you laughed as you stroked it.

"I hope it's not going to stain, you'll look like a Smurf." 

"How dare you reference something so small in regards to my penis."

"Don't be such an egomaniac, you know your cock's huge."

"Never hurts to hear…" he trailed off as your tongue found his tip. 

"ummm, I make good frosting," you licked up his shaft. 

He felt good in your mouth. Soft and smooth his delicate skin slid between your sugar coated lips as you sucked. 

He was moaning and you felt yourself getting wetter in anticipation of your turn. Looking up you caught him redhanded, now unsure which pleasure he was enjoying more.

Popping him out of your mouth you couldn't believe you even had to ask.

"Are you still sneaking cake while I'm giving you head?" 

"You said I could have cake and a blowjob."

"You know, I don't think you're appreciating everything you've got here."

You stood up, "I bake you a special cake, I suck you off...what's in this for me Kookie?" 

He pushed the cake to the side and hoisted you onto the counter.

"What if I eat it off of you?"  

"I like that idea..."

You laid back across the marble counter and let him slide your pants off. 

Spreading your legs apart he positioned himself to take a lick.

"I'm going to make this pussy even sweeter."

Drawing his index finger through the cake he brought the frosting back to your clit. Expertly icing the pink nub, he made sure it was fully covered before he indulged in his work.

He dragged his finger between his lips, "so pretty."

His mouth was slow as he languidly licked the cake off of you. His tongue tickled and teased while his lips sucked and slurped at your wetness. He moaned as you tugged the blue buttercream through his locks using them to pull him closer and in the direction you wanted him.  

Cumming hard you could only think of how the extra work of making that second cake was  totally worth it. 

He pumped his cock. "You okay, ready for more?"

You sat up and closed your thighs. 

"Not gonna happen Guk. Haven't you heard the saying you can't have your cake and eat it too?"

He was confused.

"I'm not getting a uti just because you've got a sweet tooth." 

"But I…."

"Relax, I'm not going to leave you with blue balls," you snickered while looking down.

"We need to shower first. I hope this food colouring comes off." 

--------------------

The water turned aqua as it streamed down his skin. "It's really everywhere," he laughed as he found more icing under your breast. 

"I think we got most of it, at least off the parts we needed to."

Grabbing his hips you pulled him against you. His cock was still hard, you swear he lived in a permanent state of ready to fuck. 

He kissed you under the hot stream before you turned to face the wall. Bracing yourself on the tile his hands traveled down your back, over the wet curves of your ass and home where they belonged between your thighs.

Taking the time to work you up again, he slid his fingers inside you while rubbing himself with his other hand. 

When he couldn't wait any longer he moved closer between your legs. His head pressed into you stretching you around him before he thrust all the way in.

You moaned finally getting what you really wanted. The whole game with the cake? This was what you'd truly been after. As fun as life was with Jeongguk, fucking him was always the best part.

Turning to look at him he was biting his lip, abs tensed as he took you from behind. Soft breaths made their way out of him in time with his motions.

He was beautiful, he was yours, "Guk- ah, I want you to fill me."

He moaned at your words and picked up speed. Cupping your breast and pinching your nipple between his fingers sent a shot of pleasure to your core.

"Cum for me," he kissed your back, sending shivers down your spine.

Feeling you clench around him he slowed himself dragging your orgasm out with long deep strokes. The rubbing over your sweet spot had you crying out as his cock drew out the creamy show of your satisfaction. 

Knowing you were taken care of he let loose with his own agenda. Thrusting like an animal, hard and deep, his entire body rocked into you until he groaned cumming.

His head pressed into your back, arms around you, cock slowly falling out, satisfied. 

His release dripped slowly out of you carried down your thighs by the water still falling over you. 

"That was amazing." 

--------------------

His brother welcomed you a few hours later, trading the cake in your arms for his nephew. 

"Thanks for doing this. I'm not going to lie, I was a little worried about Jeongguk's sticky fingers getting into it."

He stepped into the house and tickled the toddler.

"Oh, I got mine," he winked at his brother. "It's called a smash cake for a reason."

#jungkook #BTS smut #jungkook smut #Jeongguk #kookie #Nochu #guk

[funkymeihem-fiction]

The A-Mei-Zing Outback Adventure- Chapter 22

Something was poking her repeatedly in the back and she tried to pull away, keeping her eyes closed and her posture lax. If she kept pretending to be asleep, maybe it would leave her alone. There was a pause, but then it continued, what felt like the tip of a finger curiously prodding between her shoulderblades.

“Stop that,” she moaned, still not moving.

Junkrat hesitantly shuffled closer, hot breath wafting across the back of her neck as he poked at her again with his remaining hand. “You real, darl?”

She draped an arm over her eyes tiredly, feeling the tug of the IV still taped in the meat of her elbow. “Yes.”

Junkrat huffed suspiciously. “Prove it. How do I know you’re the real Mei and not another dream. Say somethin’ only the real Mei would know!”

She had just woken up and it was entirely too early for this, but he was still poking her and not letting it rest, so she searched her still-foggy waking mind for something that would prove that Mei was Mei. She rolled onto her back, looking up at the blurry ceiling. “We were out in the desert together, near the shack. You blew apart a little cliff and made a heart for me. I kept one of the rocks.”

Junkrat was quiet for a long moment and she had thought the answer satisfied him, but he merely muttered a low “Did I?…Yeah. That’s an ace idea. Explodey heart sounds pretty romantic. I mean, seems like something I’d do. Did I do that?”

She sighed. His poor memory couldn’t seem to dig that one up, so she tried for something she knew he’d found more…eventful. “You blew apart the cliff, you made a heart, then you took a bath-”

“Got ya! I’d never willingly take a bath! I knew you wasn’t-”

“You did! So we could…you know…out on that blanket? We, um, you know, were together physically. What did you call it? Er, we rooted?” She pulled at the collar of her pajamas, and there was the mostly faded ring of a bruise in the shape of his teeth.

She could almost hear the gears grinding between his ears, quickly pulling that memory back to him. His face lit up, his grin returned, and his lanky arms moved around her, burying his face into her bosom and wiggling his pointed nose down until he was smothered between her breasts. Mei made a show of rolling her eyes slightly, but rested a hand on the back of his head, slowly petting over the few tufts of blond hair that remained. His eyes rolled up to her from where he was still buried face-first in her chest, gaze full of adoration, and when he spoke his voice was muffled. “Yeah! Yeah we did. Had a good time, I recall. Really good fuck. Yeah, won’t forget that one.”

“It was…a nice time,” she said politely, lifting her chin a bit. “So to answer your question, I’m really me. I came to visit you and Roadhog here in the outer clinic.”

“Oh…Yeah, guess the clinic part is real too, then. Damn. Listen, lovey, it’s good you showed up, I knew you’d come to help me out! I think Nana hid my parts somewhere around here. If we can at least get my arm back, can do a makeshift leg, can work with that.” He paused from where he had started trying to slip his hand into her pajama pants, blinking and extracting himself from her cleavage to actually look around him. He seemed distracted, and not really in a good way. “Lots of wiring here. Oxygen tanks too, probably. Heh. They think this is gonna stop the unstoppable Jamison Fawkes? Should leave a present for ‘em, I should. All right, listen up. Outer clinic’s attached on two walls, can probably blow our way out the left side into that practice field and we’re home free.” He pulled himself off her, lifting onto his arm and calling aloud, “Oi! Roadie, you still in here?”

There was a familiar grunt behind the curtains. “Mm.”

“Get ready to move, mate. Just give me a few minutes here at the most, and we’ll- Oi! Mei, what’re you-” He paused as her arms wrapped around him. “Ooh, had a taste and can’t get enough of ol’ Junkrat, eh? Uh, look, maybe a quickie after we get a distance from here, but-”

“That’s not what I meant!” Mei said quickly. She had made an attempt at physically latching onto him, wrapping both arms limply around his shoulders and trying to drag him back down into the bed, wheezing slightly. How could he possibly find the strength to be up and about and hatching more escape plans, when she felt so weak and sick? She was having trouble even just trying to cling to him, protesting aloud. “We’re not going to do any more escape attempts. We need to stay here, and do what the doctors say, and we need to get better. You need to get better!”

“I am better!” he snapped, lifting himself to sit up as Mei landed in his lap. “Roadie, get the things!”

“Hmm…” Roadhog rumbled behind the curtain again, but didn’t seem to move.

“You’re not!” Mei continued her sad attempt at a headlock, even if he barely seemed to notice. “You are not better yet, none of us are. Jamie would you please…listen!”

“I am listening! I can listen while I find my bits! And while I get these…fuckin’! Poisons! Outta me!” He flailed his single arm, yanking at the tubes that connected him to his drip, blood streaming from where it became dislodged. Mei drew back in alarm, eyes wide, and Junkrat took the opportunity to stand, taking a deep breath before flinging his leg over the bed and lifting upright. “I been fine before, I’ll be fine now! These goddamn-” His leg trembled and then abruptly crumpled beneath him, sending him to the floor with a painful sounding thud, and Mei could only watch in dawning horror as he curled up into a ball, holding his gut and retching up a mouthful of mostly clear greenish liquid that pooled beneath his open mouth.

She had just started to climb off the bed after him, unsure of how she was going to lift nearly seven feet of agitated junker, when the curtain was drawn back. Ana stood there, looking down at the twitching Junkrat with an unimpressed air and offering a calm “Amil ayh,” before pushing the rolling curtain aside fully. Despite her small size and being in her sixties, she leaned down to grip him under his amputated arm, heaving with all her might as she helped boost him mostly upright, leaving Mei quietly impressed. “I think you need to get back into bed, dear. And that’s just a friendly suggestion for now. Now rinse.” There was suddenly a cup shoved up under his nose, smelling of mouthwash and mint, and he begrudgingly took it down to slosh in his cheeks. “…And spit.” Back into the cup it went, and the junker fell into a fit of minty fresh coughing. Mei had the feeling this was far from the first time this had happened.

Ana struggled somewhat to roll him back into the bed, Mei pulling him back towards her. She grabbed at the edge of her sleeve, going to dab away the bile that had dribbled from his mouth, brows furrowed in worry. “Is he going to be all right? Jamie, please just get in and lay back down with me?”

“None of you have been able to keep much solid food down since the treatments started,” Ana said, moving to the foot of the bed to help lift his gangly leg back into place under the sheets. “Dr. Ziegler told us it would happen, along with an unpleasantly long list of side effects, but I’m afraid Mr. Fawkes has found it…disconcerting. And Jamison, next time I will not hesitate to put you out again.  Even you have better manners than this, I know. Especially when we have a guest who came all this way to see you.”

Junkrat let himself be guided back into bed. At least he had mostly stopped fighting, though he looked away from them both a little sullenly. “I’ve been puking my soul out, love. Fuck…Everything’s dry and scraping and black on the inside, I can feel it, and it doesn’t feel right. This isn’t like getting hurt regular. Never had it this bad, and I have felt some shit over the years. Would rather just keep the damn radiation! This ain’t treatment. It’s torture.”

“You always did have a flair for the dramatics. Save it for the actual battlefield and try to get some rest for now.” Ana said wearily. With practiced ease, she inserted the IV back into its port, wiping away the rivulets of blood, before pointing to her single eye and then back to him sternly. “Be good.” And with that, she pulled the curtain back around them and their semblance of privacy returned.

“You shouldn’t cause them so much trouble just for trying to help us. It’s just a part of getting better…” Mei muttered lamely, feeling rather lackluster in her attempts to comfort him when she wasn’t feeling any better herself. “You brought me here so I could get better, and both of you are going to get better with me. You brought me all the way-”

“You were dyin’, love! And you, you’re not like Hog and me. We can just…Me and him, we get better or we don’t, arright? But you’re not a junker. You’re too good, that’s why you gotta be here. You gotta get better so you can go out and do your world-saving things.” He looked almost as frustrated as she felt, and she knew they weren’t seeing eye to eye again. He continued on. “I did what I was supposed to do. I got you back safe, just like the mission brief said. Contract’s all done.”

“Oh no you don’t,” she shot back, narrowing her eyes behind her glasses. “You don’t get to do that to me.”

“Darl, I-”

“No. You may have completed a task for Overwatch, and I’ll make sure you’re paid for it. But you and I…we made a new contract out in that awful desert. You didn’t abandon me when I needed you, and I promised you I wouldn’t leave either. Well, we’re back, and I’m still not going to leave you.”

“I told you, that’s different! You’re different!”

“And I told you, we’re not that different after all. After all we went through, I’m not going to let you just…throw me back into Overwatch and then you be off on your way. I promised you I’d be here for you, so here I am. We’re all going to get better together.” She folded her arms in a very final way, as though that action alone would finish the argument.

“Arroight, now you’re just bein’ stubborn.”

“Oh, I’m the one being stubborn?!”

They both heard Roadhog sigh audibly from the other side of the room.

Junkrat squinted at her, lips screwing up and off to the side in an incredulous expression. She childishly scowled back at him. The two seemed to be in a face-off, even as they sat next to each other in bed, half under the covers. Petulantly, he shoved a little at her leg with his own, and she kicked him a little back, jostling him back into place. She elbowed him, then he elbowed her in retaliation. And before he knew it, when he looked back over at her, she was suddenly on top of him and his arm was looping around her, and she was kissing him almost viciously, and they moaned together as his tongue searched covetously between her lips. His grasp around her tightened, almost as if he was making sure she truly was real, and was delighted to feel familiar soft flesh under the rake of his fingernails. She clutched back at him in much the same way, something hurried and desperate, hungry for the smoky taste of his breath mingling with hers. He ground himself up into her, cursing inwardly at the layers of cloth between them as he moved to free his hand to take care of them, but she was suddenly pulling away again, trying to undo where their IV tubes had tangled together in their haste. He stared at her unsurely, panting a few breaths of air. Her glasses were askew and her gaze behind them were still annoyed and tired, but even he could see that there was something pleading underneath it.

“Jamie…please?” she whispered.

Everything inside him was liquified agony and his instincts were still screaming, echoing inside the hollow places in his skull that he needed to flee. He needed to get out of here, back to where the pain was present but manageable, where the poisons in him were at least familiar. With just him and Hog again, that was all he’d ever needed; a life where they answered to nobody, not even each other. He could blow his way out of here like he’d done with every other trouble, in the few years of his life he really remembered. Blow it up. Blow it all to hell.

But she’d just said please…

He uttered a little conflicted noise, eyes darting around the curtains that enclosed them and the flowers that had appeared alongside Mei’s very presence. She was still looking at him in a way that hurt him almost more than the doctor’s cruel medicine, and he found himself sinking slowly back into the pillows in a defeated posture. He couldn’t even blame this on the now absolutely raging boner she’d given him yet again. This was something genuine. She wanted him to get better, so he supposed that now…he had to.

“…Yeah…all right…”

The brightness returned to her tired features and she hugged herself back to his side, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You promise me?”

He groaned. “Blimey, you’re twisting the only arm I got here, love. Fine. I promise ya.“

“Good! Very good, I’m sure together w-” she started to say, before he abruptly held up one finger.

“But on one condition! I hear they gotta give you all the free ice cream you want. No more cutting me off like in the dining hall, all the ice cream I want!”

“Erm, Jamie, I think that’s only for tonsils, or- You know what, fine. If that will help you with the treatments.” She sighed, shaking her head a bit. Maybe she would never really figure out the way his strange mind worked, and maybe that would be okay. “Just, no more escape attempts and no more trouble. Why don’t we tell Angela, and maybe we can get you and Roadhog moved back to the main base. With me?”

“Yeah! You and me and Roadie, we can be true blue bunkmates.” He managed a lopsided grin, baring his teeth before looking at her a little more thoughtfully, as the promises of ice cream were edged out of his mind. “You fierce little fuckin’ thing, guess you meant it when you was talking about staying with me…I mean, us, ya know?”

“Of course I meant it. I promised.” She lifted her chin a little, taking his hand under the covers and folding her fingers to entwine with his, grasping and holding them there. “And you promised too now, so…I won’t let you forget it!”

He gave her a rather sparkly-eyed look, flushing as if suddenly lovestruck all over again. “That’s my girl. You tell ‘em! And you tell me! That’s my Snowflake. Aw, you make me feel real funny on the insides, you know?”

Mei smiled up at him, but then noticed his flushed features seemed to be turning from pink to green. “Um, Jamie? That might not be me, that might be the medicine…”

His grin turned a bit shaky. "Oh…fuck,” he said haltingly, “Think y’might be ri-" before his head flopped forward and he promptly vomited right into her lap.

***

Junkrat’s frantic apologies lasted for what seemed like forever, an onslaught of panicked babbling while he repeatedly kept trying to take off his own pants to give to her, and only ceased when Ana returned with a fresh pair of pajamas for her to change into. Worse yet, she’d barely gotten one pants leg on before she heard the door hiss open on the other side of the room, followed by a barrage of irritated German words that heralded the return of Dr. Ziegler. Ana stepped in once more, though she quickly took Angela off to the side and Mei couldn’t quite hear what was being said.

Were they talking about her? Or Jamison, maybe?

She felt a little odd, though she wondered how much of that was the own underlying unpleasant nausea from her own treatments. Why did she still feel like a kid again, as though she kept getting caught with a boy her parents didn’t approve of? She’d never even had that experience before, her parents had always approved of her choices, always been proud and supportive of her. Then again, she’d never tried to bring someone like Jamison home before. Maybe it would have been different if she’d ever presented them with a radiation-mad Australian demolitionist that had just accidentally puked all over her.

But the way he’d looked at her, just before that…And he had promised…

“Mei?”

Angela was pushing aside the curtains, and Mei must have startled or had a strange look on her face, because the doctor quickly moved to take her shoulder as if to steady her, still speaking soothingly. “It’s just me. Ana told me about all of the recent…antics, here. You really should have waited for me to return, you know. Do you know how frantic I was, coming back and finding you missing from your bed? And then I found Winston lingering in the hallway-”

“Please don’t blame Winston!” Mei said quickly, brows furrowing as she watched the doctor examine the IV bag, replacing it with another one soon after. “He’s been through enough blame. I asked to come here and then made a fuss. I just wanted to check up on them.”

“I had a feeling you’d be here before I even spoke to him, actually. Have you and Mr. Fawkes come to terms? I’m sure you were told of the wheelchair incident? Among others?” She flipped through her folder. “When we hired the junkers, I was really hoping he would be exploding targets other than our own medical facilities.”

“I’m right bloody here!” Junkrat’s voice came from the other side of the curtain. “Fuck me, just cause I’m sorta deaf in one ear and maybe the other ear, doesn’t mean I can’t hear you!”

“We ah, we did talk things over. He’s agreed to do the treatments and won’t make cause any trouble, but I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if we moved them back to the main facility with everyone else? I mean, if there’s no more trouble, they could stay in the main ward with me. Also…” Mei coughed, taking off her glasses and wiping at them on her pajama shirt. “Alsoifhegetsalltheicecreamhewants.”

“That’s really more for tonsilitis and other-”

“I know, I really do. But could you approve it?” Mei clasped her hands earnestly. “They both helped me get out of that desert and it just…feels strange without them? Is that an odd thing to say? Ana says Mr. Roadhog’s been a model patient and Jamison promised me no more rocket wheelchairs. Would you consider it, please, Dr. Ziegler?”

Angela pursed her lips, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes, staring at the curtain as though she could see Junkrat straight through it. To Mei’s dismay, she did not readily agree to the idea of it. It took almost a full minute of silence before the doctor relented, waving a hand and starting to type into her medical monitor’s screen as it suddenly projected between them. “I will give this a chance, Mei-Ling. I’ve just put in the transfer and I’ll have them moved. But this means that I expect all three of you to be on your best behavior. If I hear so much as one little boom from the hospital ward…”

Mei smiled in relief. “Thank you, Dr. Ziegler!”

***

Sometime later, Mei was back in her wheelchair, being pushed by the ever-patient Angela. Beside them was Junkrat, shoved in a mass of gangly limbs into another wheelchair (without rockets), and being pushed by the massive wheezing form of Roadhog, his breathing a little more labored than usual and his pace a bit slowed. He had insisted on walking, and neither woman challenged it, if only to spare his pride. Junkrat, true to form, did not seem to notice his bodyguard’s distress, somehow finding the energy to keep rocking to and fro in his seat. “Gee! Haw! Mush, Roadie, mush! We can still get there by breakfast! Remember, we got a whole deal going here, all the sweetie treaties we can eat. You want chocolate or vanilla first? You think they got weird flavors like banana here? D’you ever think they’d name an ice cream after us? Y’know, us being real world-famous and all. Fudge RIPple? Rocky Roadhog? Cookies n’ CreamMei?”

“Do you ever shut up?” Roadhog grumbled, pausing to catch his breath and pretending to examine something on the horizon.

Angela looked amused as the younger junker fidgeted impatiently in his chair. “Say what you will about your methods, Mr. Fawkes, your ability to quickly recover from trauma is second to none.”

“That’s cause I’m the best at what I do, mate. At everything I do. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still…er…what’s the word for when you’re proud but like, you ain’t too proud?”

“Humility,” Angela supplied.

“Yeah, I’m real humiliating!”

Mei felt two sets of eyes upon her and there was a long pause to see who and if anyone would laugh first. Mei’s lips tightened and thinned, but she gently coughed and corrected him instead. “You’re not humiliating, you’re humble. I mean, you’re not humble, but that’s the word.”

Roadhog’s gigantic hand encompassed the entirety of Junkrat’s head and face before he could answer, bodily shoving him back down into his wheelchair. “Sit down.”

They traveled slowly across the length of the base, stopping occasionally so Roadhog could rest, and listening to Junkrat’s incessant chatter. By the time they reached the main ward, their beds had been made up, and even Mei’s flowers and cards had been fetched and put back in place. Roadhog shoved Junkrat’s chair just inside the door, headed right for the largest of the three beds, and uttered a muted rumbling groan that reminded Mei somewhat of a beached whale, before he went sprawling back, snoring before his masked head hit the pillow.

Angela, no-nonsense as ever, bustled about, helping deposit both Mei and Junkrat into their respective beds and hooking them up to the newest battery of machines and monitors. Blood was drawn, paperwork was filed, and she pulled up her rolling stool between their beds before they could even settle in. “Well, I’ve good news, at least. Winston’s rescue came just in time. It will take some time and yet more of these unpleasant treatments, and I’m afraid you will both likely lose the rest of your hair…even you, Jamison, although your eyebrows still need to be studied as a medical miracle for being as robust as they are after all this…But we should be able to repair the damage done to your organs, purge the radiation eventually, and remove Mr. Fawkes’ multiple melanoma cancers and other issues.”

She paused, and then slowly reached down to pull two white buckets from under their beds, setting them nearby with a little hollow clunk. “The bad news is that you’re still going to be spending quite some time here, and the side effects are still going to be unpleasant. But I assure you they’ll be manageable. We’ll do everything we can to make sure you are all comfortable. Now, I want you both to follow Agent Roadhog’s example and try to get some rest. Die ordnung wahren.” There was a sudden rapid beeping from her phone, and she nodded fiercely to them before turning and hurrying from the ward.

Mei gave a little side glance to Junkrat, and found that he was already peeling the covers off, swinging his leg back down to the freezing cold floor and grasping onto his IV stand for support, scraping and hopping his way over. Mei scooted to one side, already making room for him, and when he struggled in over the bar on one side, she pulled the blankets over them both and moved right back up against him.

He wrapped one arm carefully around her, massaging one broad hand into the back of her shoulders idly. “Still don’t like the idea of bein’ stuck in this place, you know?”

“I know,” she said, snuggling into the crook of his elbow and resting her head on his bony chest, listening to the hiss of his lungs working and the always-rapid thudding of his heart. “But I’ll be here.”

“But y’know how I get. What if you’ll get annoyed with me, love?”

“Probably. We’ll probably annoy each other,” Mei murmured, tilted her head slightly to look up at him.

“But you ain’t worried?”

“No.”

He mulled that over, lips mouthing idly at the top of her headscarf, pecking not-quite-kisses to her head in thought. “Huh. Well, if you ain’t worried, I ain’t worried.”

“Good. Also, I think my ice cream would be more of a pepper-mei-nt.”

His eyes lit up again, although at least this time there wasn’t any sickness to follow. He pressed more kisses to her face and forehead, pulling her up closer still. “Oh, that’s awful! We should make a list of these for Roadie when he wakes up. You know, get to work annoying each other proper-like.”

“I guess we do have an open schedule for a bit,” she said, tilting her face up so his kisses would start landing on her lips instead. “Although it sounds like none of us are going to have very much fun. Maybe some of the others will start visiting us? That should help pass the time, I’m sure we’ve…missed a lot…in almost five months...” Her gaze started to go dark and distant once more, only to be jolted out of it a moment later when a set of sharp teeth closed together to nip her on the side of her jaw.

“Oi. Come back, darl, don’t get like that again. You were just taking a nap, but this time we were there with you, right? We were all together, still are. Cause we promised, right? You said you’re not going to let me forget, yeah?” He tilted his head, his strange golden gaze peering into hers.

“R-right.”

“Too roight. Now, who’s ready for some unlimited ice cream!”

#overwatch #blizzard #fanfiction #junkrat #jamison fawkes #mei #mei-ling zhou #roadhog #mako rutledge #mercy #angela ziegler #meihem #junkmei #meirat #funkyfluff #a-mei-zing outback adventure

[shannaraisles]

Her Beacon And Her Shield - Chapter 24

Grand Duchess Florianne was a gloater. Why wasn't that a surprise?

It seemed to run in the family. Gaspard was exactly the type to gloat over an enemy, and if what they'd found in Celene's bedroom was anything to go by, the Empress was clearly just as prone to a good gloat as her cousins. Amelia had a certain fondness for gloaters; their intense need to listen to the sound of their own voice often gave her all the time she needed to work out how to thwart them. Case in point - yes, she and her party were currently in the sights of archers while the Duchess congratulated herself on her evil plan, but this pause meant that Amelia had the time to mentally prepare herself. The faint glimmer in the air was very familiar, after all; so long as she kept the Anchor hidden behind her back, her enemies here wouldn't have a clue what was coming.

"I fear I'm a bit busy at the moment, if you were looking for a dance partner," she told Florianne sweetly. "Perhaps my brother could fill in for me."

"Your brother is an imbecile," Florianne informed her in a tart tone. "I would not have had to act myself if he had fulfilled his part of our bargain. I fear he may meet with a terrible accident in the chaos tonight."

"And what bargain was that?" Amelia asked. "His child on the throne of Orlais in exchange for my death?"

"Very good, Inquisitor." The Duchess' praise was mocking. "Not that I would ever allow him to touch me, of course. Your Inquisition would have supported me for giving up your murderer."

"You don't think much of us, do you?" Amelia countered, but a part of her was relieved to note that Lorent had apparently not been a part of Corypheus' plan. His ambition had simply made him a weapon in the real enemy's hands.

"On the contrary, I have great respect for you," Florianne insisted with deceptive warmth. "Such a pity you did not save one final dance for me. Yet I have grown so tired of your meddling. Corypheus insisted that the Empress die tonight, and I would hate to disappoint him."

"Oh, I'm not done dancing yet," Amelia promised in return, flexing her hand behind her back. The Anchor in her palm was throbbing, eager to reach out to the concealed rift above her. "Why kill the Empress? What could Corypheus hope to achieve?"

"You disappoint me." Florianne sighed, her expression exaggerated. "Celene's death is a stepping stone on the path to a better world. Corypheus will enter the Black City and claim the godhood waiting for him. We will cast down your useless Maker and usher in a united world, guided by the hand of an attentive god."

We, Amelia noted. Floriane was so deep in this, she considered herself on a par with the darkspawn magister she served. "You're Orlesian royalty," she pointed out. "Why would you help Corypheus attack your Empire?"

The Duchess laughed. "You think so small, Inquisitor. Why settle for an Empire when Corypheus will remake the entire world?" What little could be seen of her face beneath her mask settled into a self-satisfied smirk. "I admit, I will relish the look on Gaspard's face when he realizes I have outplayed him. He always was a sore loser."

The sibling rivalry, Amelia could relate to. The overweening desire for power, not so much. "Indulge me, your grace," she said, stalling to allow the pressure to build up behind the Anchor. "What, exactly, is in this for you?"

"Why, the world, of course!" Florianne declared. "When Corypheus ascends to godhood, I will rule all Thedas in his name."

"You and he should get used to disappointment," Amelia informed her. "I will not allow that to happen."

"Oh, my dear Inquisitor, you are so naive." Another taunting laugh left the Duchess' lips. "In their darkest dreams, no one imagines I would assassinate Celene myself. All I need is to keep you out of the ballroom long enough to strike. Such a pity you will miss the rest of the ball. They will be talking of it for years." Her air of gaiety dropped, and in its place, she displayed the full weight of her ruthless ambition. "Kill her," she ordered her soldiers coldly, turning to leave. "Bring me the marked hand as proof. It will be a fine gift for the master."

"Bitch." The word was Sera's, but Amelia thought it summed up the Grand Duchess very well.

The door closed. The archers fired ... but Amelia was already moving, diving out of the path of those projectiles to raise the Anchor. It sparked, green Fade fire flaring, and the rift opened, disgorging shades eager for blood. One big hand gripped the back of her armor - Bull, pulling her out of the line of fire as the demons fell on Florianne's terrified troops. He drew her back, behind a stone stone, where Cassandra was untying Gaspard's mercenary captain.

"Andraste's tits, are those demons?" the man demanded, his face ashen with horror. "I knew Gaspard was a bastard, but I didn't think he'd feed me to fucking horrors over a damned bill!"

"The soldiers lost, boss," Iron Bull interjected in amusement from where he was watching the very one-sided battle.

"Then we should deal with the demons ourselves," Cassandra declared, raising her shield.

"Too right," Sera agree, and without further ado, the three of them whipped out of cover to charge the shades feasting on their victims.

"So," Amelia said conversationally, peering out from behind the column to watch. "Duke Gaspard lured you out here?"

"Well, his sister," the mercenary told her, flinching as the second wave of demons came through the rift. "Your people are damned good at this."

"We've had a lot of practice," she told him in a wry tone, twisting past for a moment to cast ice over the rage demon that was giving Cassandra trouble. Bull delivered a massive blow, shattering the frozen form, as the Seeker turned to draw the remaining shades' attention away from Sera. "Why are you here?"

"The Duke wanted to move on the palace tonight, but he didn't have enough fancy chevaliers," the mercenary told her, his eyes fixed on the second increasingly one-sided battle to be fought in this small space. "So he hired me and my men. Had to offer triple out usual pay to get us to come to Orlais. Stinking poncy cheesemongers."

"Want a new job?" she asked mildly.

He blinked in surprise. "You hiring?"

"The Inquisition could always use a good mercenary company," she shrugged as the last demon fell. "Excuse me a moment."

She stepped to the center of the courtyard, raising her left hand toward the pulsating rift. There was a moment of pause, and the Anchor flared for the second time, connecting to the rift with the by-now familiar surge of icy pain enveloping her arm. She gritted her teeth, forcing her will to bear on the Anchor, to reverse its flow and seal the rift in the Veil. Breathing hard in the sudden silence, she turned back to the mercenary.

"Well?"

He shut his open mouth with a snap. "I'm game," he answered, clearly awed by this very present demonstration that the Inquisitor was exactly what the rumors said she was. "You want me to talk to the Empress, the court, sing a bloody song in the Chantry? I'll do it. Anything's better than this bullshit."

She nodded. "Good. Come on, then - we have a ball to crash."

Leading the way, Amelia charged through the empty rooms, mentally blessing Leliana for forcing her to memorize the layout of the Winter Palace. It had seemed so pointless at the time, but right now, that knowledge was going to determine if the Empress lived or died. Right, then left, left again ... She let out an agonized yell as an arrow pierced her armor, slamming deep into her right shoulder.

"Boss!"

Bull was there just a second too late to save her from the armored fist that smashed into her face. There was a dull crack as her nose broke under that blow, blood streaming freely over her mouth and chin as she reeled back. She'd run them straight into a Venatori ambush waiting in the chapel, but her party reacted perfectly. Between Sera's arrows and Bull's barely contained rage, the Tevinter agents didn't stand a chance.

"Amelia!" Cassandra dragged her back onto her feet, both of them ignoring the arrow and the blood for now. "You have to get to the ballroom. Go - we have this!"

Trusting in her friends, Amelia grabbed the bewildered mercenary captain, pulling him toward the door that would take them directly into the ballroom. Spitting a mouthful of blood, she took his hand, wrapping his reluctant fingers about the shaft standing proud from her shoulder. He didn't need her to tell him what to do, bracing his other hand against her chest as he twisted the arrow free. Quite how she managed it, she couldn't guess, but not a squeak left her lips at the new layer of pain that surged to life with that action. Now with a fresh wound, she pulled the door open just far enough to get them into the ballroom, hoping that she wasn't too late.

She couldn't have looked more out of place if she had tried. Armed and armored, her nose swollen and crooked, blood seeping over her lip and from the wound in her shoulder, it was no wonder that her entrance did not go unremarked upon by the elegant Orlesians who noticed her. With quiet panic rising behind her eyes, she dragged the mercenary over to Cullen, her gaze seeking the Grand Duchess in the crush of nobles.

"Thank the Maker you're - what the hell happened?" her husband demanded, his eyes wild as he took in the state of her.

"Trap," she informed him simply. "Look after this man."

Cullen glanced at the mercenary briefly. "Of course, but -" He frowned as she turned away. "The Empress is about to make her speech. What should we do?"

As he asked, Amelia located who she was looking for. Florianne was approaching Celene from behind, Gaspard and Briala before them. There was no time to get a warning to Morrigan. "I've got this," she told her commander fiercely. "Stay here."

"But -"

Whatever his objection, she didn't stay to listen, striding out into the center of the empty dancefloor to approach the Empress herself, indifferent to the picture she presented - a beaten and bloodied mage, armed and armored, striding toward the Empress of Orlais in full view of the Imperial court. She heard the gasps at her appearance, the metallic clanking of the Imperial Guard moving to intercept her, but her focus was entirely upon Florianne. She saw the Grand Duchess' dismay, the flash of the knife, raising her staff as Florianne lunged. The blade scraped harmlessly over the barrier Amelia cast about the Empress, shocked from the assassin's hand with a loud clatter in the sudden silence.

"We owe the court one more show, your grace," she said, her voice more than a little affected by the break in her nose but loud enough that everyone could hear her. "This is your party. Smile. You wouldn't want your guests to think you had lost control."

"Florianne!" Gaspard sounded truly horrified with his sister's actions. "What have you done?"

"I seem to recall her saying all she needed was to keep me out of the ballroom long enough to strike," Amelia went on, still advancing as Florianne backed straight into the captain of the Imperial Guard. "My brother's poison failed to kill me. When her archers failed to finish the job in the garden, I feared she would not save me this dance."

"Lies!" Florianne spat, but even she knew her defense held no water now. Not with so many witnesses to her treason.

"It was certainly an ambitious plan," Amelia continued, handing her staff to the guardsman who was shadowing her - willingly disarming herself for everyone to see before she entered the Empress' personal space. "Framing your brother for the murder of a Council emissary was almost convincing. Celene, Gaspard, the entire Council of Heralds ... all your enemies under one roof. And you, the last woman standing by dawn."

"You do not imagine anyone believes your wild stories?" the Duchess protested, still attempting to seem innocent.

"She is not the one who just tried to kill me in front of the entire court," Celene pointed out, ice in her voice as she stared at the woman. "This will be a matter for a judge to decide, cousin."

Outmaneuvered, Florianne turned to her brother. "Gaspard, you cannot believe this. You know I -" But Gaspard turned his back on his sister, disgusted and betrayed. "Gaspard? Gaspard!"

"You've lost, your grace," Amelia told her heavily. "And so has your master."

She turned away, shutting her ears to the woman's despairing sobs as the Duchess was lead away by the Imperial Guard. Her face throbbed with sharp pain each time she opened her mouth; blood was dripping from her fingertips; her brother was arrested; her goal, successful; and finally Lady Inquisitor Amelia Amandine Lucille Rutherford had lost all patience with Orlesian politics. She met the Empress' cold eyes with an equally unimpressed gaze.

"Your Imperial Majesty," she said, surprised by how calm she sounded. "I think we should speak in private, with Duke Gaspard and Ambassador Briala. Elsewhere."

Celene attempted to dissemble. "Lady Inquisitor, let us summon a healer and -"

"Now, your majesty."

With bad grace, Celene acquiesced, gesturing for Amelia to lead the way onto the Imperial balcony. The Empress, the Duke, and the ambassador followed, leaving a shocked court behind them. Amelia could only hope her friends and allies could calm the nobles; she had her hands full with the three most powerful people in the country, already at each other's throats even before the doors were closed behind them.

"Your sister has just attempted regicide in front of the entire court, Gaspard," Briala opened with, clearly determined to make an issue of his closeness to his sister.

"You are the spymaster," the Duke countered. "If anyone knew this atrocity was coming, it was you."

"You don't deny your involvement," the elf pointed out calmly.

"I do deny it!" Gaspard snapped. "I knew nothing of Florianne's plans! But you ... you knew it all and did nothing!"

Briala laughed, the sound more of a barb than her words. "I don't know which is better," she taunted him. "That you think I'm all-seeing, or that you're trying so hard to play innocent ... and failing."

"We will not bicker while Tevinter plots against our nation," Celen broke in. "For the safety of the Empire, I will have answers."

"The safety of the Empire has never been your first concern, Celene," Gaspard scoffed.

 "Enough!"

For a moment, Amelia wasn't sure who had spoken. Then she took in the three masked faces staring at her with varying degrees of disbelief, and it dawned on her. She had just told the three most powerful people in Orlais to shut up ... and to everyone's surprise, including her own, she didn't stop there.

"I have shed my blood, my friends' blood, to bring this evening to a peaceful conclusion," she reminded them, uncomfortably aware that bubbles of bloody mucus were forming from her broken nose with every breath. "Orlais is safe because I risked my life for it. The least you can do is extend me the courtesy of behaving like adults. This isn't a game. Any one of you could have died tonight."

"Inquisitor, these are old arguments between ourselves," Celene began, but Amelia wasn't finished.

"I don't care," she informed the Empress succinctly. "Every one of you is implicated in this debacle. Without your petty squabbles, Florianne would never have had this opportunity. You all conspired to allow this to happen."

For a few heartbeats, there was absolute silence, the trio attempting to stare down a woman who had risked everything for their sake and was sick of their lies; a woman who bore the bloody marks of her struggle only minutes before to ensure that they all stood before her in this moment. Celene broke that silence.

"That ... is a bold claim, Inquisitor," she said, her cold eyes hard behind her mask. "Are you prepared to defend it?"

Amelia glared at her, aware of the threat implied by her tone. "All right, your majesty, if that's how you want to play your Game," she conceded viciously, trying to ignore the lancing headache pressing at her temples. "You allowed the Grand Duke to sneak soldiers in, hoping he'd make a politically foolish move. My witness was a little ... tied up, when he told me about it."

Celene's pale face flushed beneath her mask, embarrassment and anger combined, but unable to raise an objection without inviting the Inquisitor to share more detail about the witness and where she had found him.

Gaspard looked appraisingly at his cousin. "That's duplicitous even for you, Celene."

"You took the bait," Amelia told him in a sharp tone. "I met your mercenary captain, your grace. He says you were ready to attack tonight."

He didn't have a chance to object or protest; Briala was quick to try and capitalize. "Clever move," she scorned him. "If you were trying to get hanged for treason."

"And Briala was playing both of you." Amelia was quick to head off any sense of advantage. "She murdered your ambassadors and sent you each forged letters."

"Even if I did," Briala said with offensive confidence, "you can't touch me."

"No one will defend you once it's revealed that you and Celene were lovers when she burned Halamshiral's alienage," Amelia pointed out. "You shouldn't send someone to their death just to score political points, ambassador."

The smugness dropped from Briala's face like a stone into a pool, all three of them caught in ripples of embarrassment and fear. Amelia let her stern gaze play over them, from the Empress, to the Duke, to the ambassador. They were afraid of her, and of what she had learned about them tonight, and yet here she stood, a mother hen scolding her errant chicks.

"Very well, Inquisitor, you've made your point," Celene said, her voice cool with resentment. "What do you want?"

"You are three of the best minds in the Empire," Amelia told them flatly. "You could do so much for Orlais and your people if you stopped fighting."

"It is remarkably ... optimistic to believe that the three of us could ever forget our differences, Inquisitor," Celene remarked in a mild tone.

Amelia sighed in frustration. "I don't expect you to forget your differences," she said, trying not to lose her temper. "What I do expect is for you to stop behaving like spoiled children. Set your differences aside, and work together for the good for your people."

"I hardly think that you can compare us to children," Gaspard objected in a laughing tone.

"Really, your grace?" Her voice had turned sharp once again as her attention snapped to him. "The world was falling into chaos, and you started a civil war." Her eyes cut to Celene. "You allowed it to happen, and you," she met Briala's gaze, "muddied the waters on both sides for your own gain. How dare you, all of you, behave so abominably when the world stands on the brink of destruction?"

That mother hen feeling returned with a vengeance as they all, each in their own turn, avoided her gaze, shuffling their feet under her disappointed ire. Yet none of them argued, their sins laid bare by the Herald of Andraste herself, put into sharp relief against the horrors of the world they each played such a key part in.

"What do you suggest, Inquisitor?" Briala asked finally, politely deferential.

"I suggest that the three of you hammer out some accord between yourselves before you speak to the court," Amelia said wearily, tired of solving other people's problems for one evening. "I'm not a politician; I can't do this for you."

"That ... is a wise suggestion, Inquisitor," Celene agreed, glancing to the others as they nodded with her.

"May I suggest that, while we talk, you look to yourself, my lady?" Gaspard ventured in an almost tentative tone. "You have suffered much on our account tonight, and I fear it shows."

"I will send someone for your healer," Briala said. "And your advisors - I expect you will wish to speak with them."

"Allow me to gift you a gown for the evening," Celene then offered. "Your uniform is sadly ruined." The three were clearly eager to make reparations personally, and for once, Amelia gave in, agreeing to their suggestions for her with a low sigh.

And so, she found herself whisked off to a private room with Solas and Josephine, one of the royal seamstresses, and two elven ladies-maids. The process of resetting her nose was moderately disgusting, not to mention painful, but between copious healing potions and Solas' mastery of healing magic, she was restored to her former self again. One spirited conversation over corsets and petticoats, and the seamstress gave in, raising the hem of the gown Celene had donated to enable it to be worn easily without the ridiculous cage underneath that was the height of Orlesian fashion. Josephine fussed happily over her as she dressed, delighted with the outcome of the evening and the fact of getting the Inquisitor in a gown.

It wasn't actually that bad, Amelia reflected as she studied herself in the mirror. The gown was crimson velvet, with fitted sleeves from wrists to the first curve of her shoulders, the surprisingly modest neckline trimmed with delicate gold lace. The bodice was snug, of course; the skirt falling in heavy folds over a single petticoat to skim the floor. She had lost the argument about her hair, resulting in the thick length being freed from her practical braided bun and curled, caught back in an elaborate waterfall of chestnut. She had won the argument about makeup, and outright refused a mask. But for all their efforts, she was relieved to find that the woman in the looking glass was still her.

Thus attired, she returned to the ballroom to witness Celene and Gaspard's speech, glad to note that the three leaders had managed to reach an accord in her absence, even if Briala was still in the shadows. And still the night was not over. Despite her weariness, she was obliged to celebrate with them, and for at least two hours, she didn't leave the dancefloor. She danced with Celene, Gaspard, Briala - causing no little consternation among the nobles -; Leliana, Josephine, Dorian, Solas; comtes, countesses, barons, and dowagers. Everyone, in fact, but the man she wanted to dance with, who had steadfastly remained on the sidelines, and kept blushing every time she looked in his direction.

As the night became the twilight before dawn, she finally managed to escape, stepping out onto an empty balcony to welcome the brisk winter chill on her bare shoulders. Light and music spilled out toward her, but she turned her back on its all, resting her arms on the stone balustrade as she looked out over the dark gardens. Had she really ended a war tonight? Or had she just laid the foundations for something worse in the future?

"The Orlesian nobility make drunken toasts to your victory, and yet you are not there to hear them."

She straightened, curls pouring over her shoulder as she turned her head to find Morrigan standing beside her. The witch smiled, though the expression looked a little odd on her, as though she did not have much occasion to try it.

"Do you tire so quickly of their congratulations, Inquisitor?" she asked lightly. "'Tis most fickle, after all your efforts on their behalf."

Amelia's own lips quirked, weary but warm for the woman who had aided her investigation without expectation of acknowledgement or reward. "I would have stayed, but the punch ran dry," she offered as her excuse. "Scandalous."

This elicited a laugh from Morrigan. "Indeed?" Yet she sobered quickly enough. "I feel I must thank you, for saving Celene's life," she said in a wary tone. "Not even I suspected the Duchess could be so foolish. Yet ... should I also commiserate, for your brother's involvement?"

"For my father's sake, perhaps," Amelia told her softly, feeling the weight of what she still had to do settle on her shoulders. She sighed, glancing out over the gardens once again. "The loss of his last remaining child may kill him."

"Not his last, surely," Morrigan said, her tone measured. "You remain."

Amelia felt herself smile sadly. "The Bann of Ostwick would not acknowledge me, even if I stood before him," she said, her voice heavy with regret. "In his eyes, I am not only a mage, but a heretic. A stain on his family's honor."

"And this troubles you, to have an ignorant man fail to recognize what he has tossed aside?" Morrigan seemed bemused by the notion. "Such a creature is not worth your care."

"But he is my father," Amelia reminded her in a gentle tone. "He loved me, once. And now I may have no choice but to break his heart."

The witch was quiet for a moment, evidently thinking this over. "Then let us see if you take this piece of news as poorly," she said eventually. "By Imperial decree, I have been named liaison to the Inquisition." Seeing the curious glance aimed her way, she went on to explain. "Celene wishes to offer you any and all aid - including mine. Congratulations."

Amelia studied her, a dozen questions forming in her mind. But they could all wait, and who was she to turn away help when it was offered? "Welcome to the Inquisition, Morrigan."

"A most gracious response," Morrigan approved, inclining her head in acceptance. "Allow me to put my affairs in order. I shall meet you at Skyhold."

With that, she left Amelia alone once again. Leliana was likely to have a minor fit over that appointment, but there was nothing for it. They had to stay on the good side of the Orlesian Empire, after all. She sighed, resuming her lean against the stone, aware of a dozen different aches all over her body. Nothing a good night's rest wouldn't cure, but she doubted she would be allowed to leave the Winter Palace yet. No matter how weary she felt, she owed it to Josephine to make a good showing now the crisis had passed.

But there was still so much to do. She had to get to the Western Approach in good time - Stroud and Hawke had already left before they came to Halamshiral, taking the small group of Wardens who had come to Skyhold with them. Each Warden was adamant that their orders were to be in the Western Approach within a month of Satinalia's passing, and by dawn, Satinalia would have passed. Thus Amelia would not be returning to Skyhold with the majority of the party. The Champion and the Wardens needed her in the Approach, and she had no doubt that, once news of tonight spread, Corypheus' plans for the Grey Wardens of Orlais would be accelerated. There was no time! She could feel it slipping through her fingers, charging on ahead with no hope of reprieve any time soon.

"There you are. Everyone's been looking for you."

Yet, tense and tired as she was, the sound of Cullen's voice behind her made her smile. He'd always known when not to leave her alone with her thoughts - a peculiar talent for a man who had been ordered to marry her, once upon a time. He came to her side, resting one elbow on the balustrade as his other hand found her shoulder.

"Things have calmed down for the moment," he told her, his voice gentle in the stillness out here. "Are you all right?"

Her smile warmed under his concern, her fingers brushing the gloved touch on her shoulder. "I'm just tired," she assured him, and it was only a little lie. She was tired, but that wasn't all. "Tonight has been ... very long."

"For all of us," he agreed. His hand slid from her shoulder across her back, curling his palm to her opposite side to tuck her warm and safe against him. "I'm glad it's over."

They stood like that for a long time, easy in each other's silence. Amelia's head drooped onto Cullen's shoulder, her smile flickering wearily once more as he tipped his head to press his lips to her brow. If the court saw them through the open door, they did not react, nor did anyone come to disturb them. They seemed to share the opinion that the Inquisitor had earned a little peace tonight.

"I know it's foolish," Cullen murmured softly, "but I was worried for you tonight."

"I was worried for you," she admitted in turn. "At least I could fight back. You had to endure all that in the ballroom without lifting a finger."

"I would rather have been at your side," he mused, still speaking in that soft tone that soothed her throbbing senses. "But I don't think I can trust myself to stand back and let you do what needs to be done if I am beside you. I would be too concerned with protecting you, and that could prove disastrous in the field."

Despite herself, Amelia laughed quietly, raising her head to kiss his cheek. "I know exactly what you mean," she agreed in a low tone. "I was so angry you were targeted tonight."

"Lorent has never liked me," he pointed out. "No doubt because, as my wife, you had that additional layer of protection from his schemes. It should not have surprised us that he would try to remove us both."

"How am I supposed to judge him, Cul?" she asked, ashamed of the hitch in her breath. Lorent would shed no tears for her, if their positions were reversed. "Father's already sick. Lorent's disgrace could kill him."

His arm tightened around her, trying to offer some comfort if he could. "He has overplayed his hand," he told her quietly. "The Free Marches are behind the Inquisition, all but Ostwick. If you were to choose leniency, it is likely they would police him themselves. As treacherous as politics are, no one there will willingly support the schemes of a man who has openly attempted sororicide."

He was right about that. While Orlais might accept the casual murder of blood kin as an integral part of their Great Game, the nobles of the Free Marches frowned upon such behavior. It was too similar to the politics of the Tevinter Imperium, and the Marches' freedom from that empire had been hard won not so very long enough. "But if I'm too lenient, the Inquisition will be seen as weak," she pointed out worriedly. "Too harsh, and they'll say I'm using my position for petty revenge."

"You will find the middle ground," he told her, certain of that, at least. "Look at all you have accomplished. We have faith in our Inquisitor."

She sighed, laying her head on his shoulder once more. "Sometimes I wish none of this had ever happened," she murmured. "It's too much for one person to bear."

"You're not alone, Ame," he murmured back. "I will be with you, always."

She tilted her head back, her lips curving into a loving smile as he touched a kiss to the tip of her nose. "I never thought I would have any reason to be grateful to the templars," she confessed softly. "But I do. If it weren't for the Order, I wouldn't have you."

Cullen chuckled fondly, leaning down to grace her lips with a kiss so tender, it made her heart ache. The music that reached out to them from the ballroom changed in that instant, turning from lively to stately as he drew his lips from hers.

"I may never have another opportunity like this, so I must ask," he said with a glance over his shoulder, stepping back to bow and offer her his hand. "May I have this dance, my lady?"

Amelia stared at him, laughing at his sudden change of attitude. He'd been refusing to dance all night. "Of course," she agreed, slipping her hand into his as he straightened. "I thought you didn't dance?"

Cullen laughed with her, gently pulling her close to turn her in a slow, courtly circle. His hands were sure, though his steps were tentative, and she found herself finally relaxing in the circle of his arms. His cheek found its way to hers, keeping that close contact as he murmured to her.

"For you, my love ... I'll try."

#her beacon and her shield #multi-chapter fic #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfiction #fanfiction #writing #dai #cullen rutherford/female trevelyan #cullen rutherford #amelia rutherford #empress celene #grand duke gaspard #ambassador briala #florianne de chalons #solas #josephine montilyet #morrigan #halamshiral #winter palace #part 4 #the end of halamshiral!