McCree/Hanzo – beta!Hanzo; Omega!McCree; slutty McCree; humiliation; belittling – McCree is a sloppy whore and Hanzo can appreciate that after some struggling.
Hanzo has his arms slung around McCree’s sturdy hips, his face smearing between his shoulder blades as he gives it his all, fucking into him fast and sharp until his crotch and the tops of this thighs are wet with slick and lewd squelching sounds are filling the room.
Despite his desperate humping, McCree does not seem much more than vaguely entertained, however. He has his head pillowed on his thick, hairy forearms; off to the side so he can still nurse on his cigar.
His insides are feverishly hot around Hanzo’s cock, muscles butter soft and hugging his dick, and it makes him nearly go cross-eyed. As a beta, he’s never had an opportunity to fuck an Omega. Most are not particularly interested, and his sex-drive is not the highest anyway, but this…
McCree had offered, casual as always, his positively fat thighs falling open ridiculously easy. Showing himself off to an appalled Hanzo whose first instinctive reaction had been to decline despite the obvious and instantaneous bulge in his sweatpants.
He’s come around quickly enough, however; asking McCree through gritted teeth if he’s still up for the offer, and McCree, true to his usual easy-going nature had simply grunted and rolled onto his knees, pulling his own ratty pants down.
Not very romantic, but definitely appreciated. Hanzo got the feeling that he’s not the only Beta McCree had let mount up. He probably could’ve been used as a show pony in front of a class for all Hanzo know. He would’ve enjoyed it,too… in his own lazy, roundabout way.
Through his own panting, loud and obnoxious and a bit ragged sounding, he almost misses McCree sighing. His muscles shift as he stretches beneath the Beta working away at him, then turns his head a bit and grins at him around his cigar just as sloppily as the hole he’s offered up.
“Damn, love ‘em Beta dicks,” he drawls (infuriatingly calm, still, barely a blush on his cheeks), and before Hanzo can even start to preen he continues: “Could fuck a dozen before getting sore.”
Hanzo’s hips stutter, cock surging despite the immediate explosion of indignation in his chest.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he hisses, pushing himself up so he can stare down his nose at the Omega. McCree does not seem alarmed at all. He simply lets his knees slide apart until Hanzo’s cock slips from the loose mess of his hole and he is comfortably on his belly.
Apparently being up on his knees has been nothing but a courtesy to Hanzo hanging onto him and rabbit fucking away.
“Nothin’,” he yawns. Hanzo can see the side of his face; relaxed and calm despite his cock being at least nice and fat from the Beta’s ministrations. Hanzo is grabbing at his dick – drenched in Omega slick – and staring at him dismayed until McCree relents and mutters: “They’re sleek. Takes a while until you even feel ‘em. But they make a nice burn happen.”
Anger and humiliation burns through Hanzo’s veins as he lets himself fall on top of McCree. It is not difficult for his cock to find the butter soft slit he’s offering up so generously – whorishly – to just about any dick that’s walking his way. He does not even have to guide it in; it slips into McCree as easy as anything, and Hanzo would like to think that it is that that makes McCree go ‘oof’ but he knows that it is more likely his sudden weight on the Omega’s back.
“Lazy bastard!” he hisses at him, hand grabbing at McCree’s hair, pulling his head back roughly as he starts pounding him again. The position is a bit awkward; not suited for a punishing rhythm, but he somehow makes it work.
“Can feel me now?” Hanzo can feel himself wanting to go cross-eyed. The Omega’s pheromones are overpowering; thick, stinking the place up and making it difficult to breathe.
“Yeah,” McCree says, but it sounds like he’s amused; like he is humoring the silly Beta that’s trying so badly to fuck him into submission. Hanzo growls, but it has nothing of the deep reverb of an Alpha, and McCree goddamn *coos* at him.
Hanzo is upset and angry but also still disturbingly *horny*. He clenches his jaw until it hurts. He bites at McCree’s round shoulders, but whatever reaction McCree can dredge the inspiration up to display always feels like a far bigger animal humoring whatever little babe has toddled its way.
Hanzo remembers, as he works away, trying to fuck some kind of genuine, distressed reaction out of the Omega, how distasteful he had found him when arriving at the watchpoint.
Those thoughts of McCree being nothing but an Omega whore that is willing to offer his sloppy, fucked-out body up to anybody. Who wouldn’t mind if one of the younger Alphas spread his legs as he slept and just mounted up.
He remembers his disgust at realizing that those slutty offers were obviously not only for Alphas but just about anybody on base. How he thought that McCree’s behaviour was just dishonorable.
…How that disgust had quickly, and insidiously morphed into an almost sick fascination, and a deep neediness to be included into that large circle of people that McCree would just let mount up and fuck their energy out into the too-welcoming hole he’s so generous with.
And just like that, his anger dissipates, just leaving a strange mix of humiliation and lust in its wake as his sharp thrusts become less punishing and more loose hipped again.
McCree has been offering himself up of his own free will and Hanzo had accepted is the bottom line of it.
McCree hums beneath him. He sounds sleepy, like he’s going to snore any minute while Hanzo is working his cock into him. He probably wouldn’t mind if he put a load into him while he was out cold, and the thought makes him burn hotter.
There is something delicious in the humiliation he feels. Knowing that McCree could barely even feel him in the loose gape of his hole until he finally managed to warm him up enough.
There’s nothing false about McCree. He’s a whore, a slut, a loose Omega; but he thrives in it, and Hanzo can respect that.