Zarya is the first one to beat him in a wrestling match, (that’s why Reinheart is so nervous about going up against her, because he know she’s going to win and claim his ass for Mother Russia), and she takes her sweet time working him over like the soft, fuzzy bear he is.

goddaaammmnn

She has him in a headlock, barely allowing him to breathe while she coos at him and digs her knee deeper into his back – makes him arch his ass to relieve some of the pressure on his spine.

“That’s it. That’s a good boy,” she purrs, her low, accented voice dripping like honey. She holds her fingers with perfectly lacquered nails in front of his lips and feeds them to him; makes him suck like a good boy if he wants to keep breathing; then slips them into the tight training shorts he is wearing so she can pet his furry hole and get it wet and primed for what is to come.

“You’re a good loser, aren’t you, Reinhardt? It is why I always looked up to you. A good sportsman.”

Reinhardt flushes and hides his face against the mats, lips wet and needy as he angles his ass up into the petting and softly prodding fingers.