4th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 3rd Fill

Genyatta + Blackwatch!McCree – Rough sex (but no rape); double teaming/spit roasting; breath play; fucking without lube

Zenyatta is agile and pliant, and while he might be able to easily slip out of either Genji’s or Jesse’s grasp, when confronted with both of the same time he definitely has to scramble to not get caught.

His expression, usually placid, looks uncharacteristically hilarious as his eyebrows are pulled up, plush mouth a constant little ‘o’ of surprise. With both of them getting at him at the same time he can’t perform his fancy little tricks of using their own weight against them to throw them to the mat – and sooner or later his luck just has to run out.

McCree’s big hand curls around his upper arm when Zenyatta’s attention is on Genji, and that’s it: he gets whirled around and slammed to the ground, Jesse’s knee digging harsh into his spine while he twists his arm up behind his back, the other hand on the side of Zenyatta’s face to mash his head into the floor of the boxring.

“Y’ lost,” he rasps, grin wild and a bit insane looking. He’s waited for this moment. They both have. Genji is close, brimming suddenly with energy after his stamina had been whittled down just as much as McCree’s.

“So… So it seems,” Zenyatta gasps, back straining, trying to alleviate the pain in his shoulder as Jesse keeps him firmly pinned.

“I believe you owe us a little somethin’ somethin’.”

“Yes… I remember. If you would just-”

“Ah ah ah… none a’ that. Not gonna let you go until the second you got one of our cocks in you. Ye’r not gonna do your little vanishing trick.”

He digs his knee in a little deeper, and Zenyatta grunts in pain, but there is a definite little grin playing on his mouth.


They wrestle him towards the edge of the training arena and change places with nervous energy; like Zenyatta could just vanish in a puff of smoke if they don’t have their hands on him at all times.

It is risky doing this here, in a public training room of Blackwatch, but they don’t think they could have stopped even if Commander Reyes himself walked in. The price is too good not to immediately have.

They probably hurt Zenyatta as they arrange him around, but he does not protest. His loose pants are tenting at the crotch, cock bouncing out and slapping against his soft, concave belly when Genji rips them down to get at the goods.

They use him like boys would use their little toys: rough and without any thought of the consequences if they broke them.

McCree has it easier than him: He does not need to worry about preparation. Zenyatta’s head is dangling off the edge of the arena and McCree’s legs are long enough to comfortably have his throat.

Genji pauses in spitting into his hand to watch as Zenyatta’s throat bulges visibly around the fat cock, lovely brown skin flushing an alarming shade of red as Jesse hunches over and ruts into him, one arm clutching at the corner pole of the ring. His eyes are wide, crazed looking, and Genji would almost be worried if he wasn’t about to raw Zenyatta with nothing but spit easing the way – or not easing it, as is.

He uses it to calm his own conscience; knows, in fact, that it doesn’t do shit when he starts fucking the bulbous head of his dick inside the tender little clench of Zenyatta’s anus – but he just can’t help it.

Not when Zenyatta gurgles around McCree’s cock, his thin, hairless chest flushing as red as his bulging throat as he gets double teamed and spit roasted on dick. Maybe the lack of air is dulling the pain of Genji force-fucking his way into him; curling Zenyatta’s lower body up so he can better mate-press the young man into the dirty ground of the boxring.

Or maybe Zenyatta is just that much of a freak and loves the pain. Loves getting rawed and used unconditionally by the two men he’s been teasing for weeks and months.

His cock – as lovely and slender as the rest of him – is wet at the tip, at least. His insides, as silky and hot as Genji had thought they’d be, clenching and squeezing around him like a well-trained whore. Hugging his cock.

McCree is about as red-faced as Zenyatta, scruffy cheeks puffing out. He looks a bit panicked; like he’s about to come and desperately tries not to.

Genji grins at him wide.

“I can take him if you need to tap out already.”

McCree looks at him with a crazy glint in his eye, and Genji thinks he can hear the grind of his teeth as he forcibly drags himself back from the precipice.

“No fucking way, Shimada.”

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