cyberrat:

Intercrural sex is disgustingly hot, especially when paired with just the tip kink.

The ultimate spank material would be with virgin kink sprinkled on top, tho.

o(-( virgin young Hanzo who doesn’t let anyone put more than just the tip inside

“Young M-Master… please…”

The slide of the guard’s cock through the valley between Hanzo’s cheeks is unbearably slick. Hanzo twists around, glances at him with a severe frown and his cheeks flushed in exertion even though he hasn’t done anything; just kneels there and takes it and is being bossy.

“No,” he hisses. His back is bend down, offering his ass up nicely for the guard’s sweaty hands holding the plump cheeks together to fuck his cock through the tunnel. Every few seconds he slips and has to readjust.

The guard whines and lets his head hang. He is sweating like a beast because the young lord wants everything quick and dirty; neither gives him time to get his suit off, nor does he slip out of his beautiful yukata. Instead, it is flipped up just enough to give him access to his fundoshi, the fabric easily slipped to the side.

“Young Master…” he wheezes, cock ruddy red and painfully swollen. When he pulls down this time, Hanzo makes a weird little motion, probably ready to chide him again – only that the motion has the tip of his cock catch against the young master’s puffy, peach pink rim-

and before he can help it, he is sliding in… a scant few centimeters – just enough to pop the swollen head in, but definitely enough for the young Master to feel, because he is suddenly deathly still, his hair fallen across his face in a way that makes it difficult to discern whether he is going to be killed now. All he can see is the young Master’s mouth, lips wet and open as he pants.

And then he bears down and whines, and the guard almost goes cross-eyed, balls pulsing, so very ready to fuck in to that clutching little space and pump him full–

“Out!” Hanzo suddenly hisses, voice trembling. “How d-dare you-”

The guard feels like his heart is going to burst any second, but he does as he is being told. His cock jerks, the tip tapping once against the soft gape of that forbidden little snatch, spitting out a string of clear pre-cum before he closes his eyes and goes back to his previous duty.

Bossy little fucker.

“You are awfully cocky for a man trussed naked to a chair, surrounded by guns.”

Hanzo watches McCree with a clinical kind of interest. The man does not look too concerned, even with his big thighs spread and his junk put on display. Maybe it is because he doesn’t have to be ashamed of what he’s showing – or maybe it is because he hasn’t cared about anything for a long while.

Hanzo surmises it is both, though it itches him to make him care.

McCree is slumped a bit, throwing him an infuriating, lazy grin until one of Hanzo’s men knocks his gun roughly against his temple and barks at him to show some respect.

He does pull himself up into more of a sitting position, but it looks like he has to force himself every centimeter of the way.

“What can I say,” he murmurs. “I’m just that easy going I guess. Good show dog, one might say. Don’t bite too awfully fast. Y’ can play with me a while before I get antsy.”

He grins at Hanzo, and Hanzo almost flushes at the insolence. Instead he clicks with his tongue and comes closer – watches how McCree’s dark eyes flick over him. Greedy. Hungry.

Hanzo smirks and plays with his cuffs as if they were not perfectly immaculate.

“Funny you would say that,” he purrs back, now. “I fully do intent to play.”

He lifts his leg then, places his foot on the edge between McCree’s massive thighs. They jump a bit. He can see how the up-and-down of his hairy chest picks up just a tad. He’s getting nervous even though his face remains the same, grin in place.

Eyes flicking from the expensive leather shoe up to Hanzo’s face. He tries to figure out what will happen, but Hanzo doesn’t give him enough time before he shifts minimally – and then he has the large sac squeezed between the sole of his shoe and the hard chair.

McCree hasn’t been expecting it. He pulls in a sharp breath before he can school himself into indifference. Hanzo sees his pupils dilate sharp, a little muscle twitching at the corner of his mouth when Hanzo puts more pressure on his balls.

Oh, how quickly the smarmy grin can be wiped off of McCree’s face – and all it takes is a mean shoe against his tender sac.

“I knew we would come to an agreement, Mr. Shimada,” Antonio murmurs, fisting Hanzo’s shirt and dragging it a bit higher so he can see the man’s ass and sweaty back better.

Shimada is panting quickly, tongue almost lolling at this point. He’s not used to taking cock – especially not one as fat as Antonio’s – and it shows in how nervously his insides squeeze around him, trying to force him back out without avail.

The rim of Shimada’s hole is a brick red from the sharp, punishing thrusts, and when Antonio drags back out again, he can see how swollen and puffy it has become.

“It is always a pleasure to do business with you and your family… You are so very… accommodating.” He jerks forward once more, watching as Shimada arches his back and gurgles faintly, his gloved fingers scrabbling at the slick wood of his desk before finding purchase at the opposite edge.

He’s not been so understanding just half an hour ago, but Antonio has always known that a dick in your belly could work wonders – even for someone as uptight as Hanzo Fucking Shimada.

He is distracted for a second by a light in his peripheral, a small frown replacing his self-indulgent grin when he sees the security footage of a group of four clumsily infiltrating his home, but Shimada clenches down on him again and he turns back towards him. His security would take care of the mishap.

“You are so quiet, Mr. Shimada… I could almost think you aren’t enjoying our little discussion.”

He reaches beneath him, then, big hand easily finding his very wet and very hard dick, and he barks a laugh as he squeezes it just this side of rough – just enough to make Shimada jump like a rabbit with its hind legs caught. He struggles weakly and without any real fire in him.

“This… this is telling a different story, though…”

Shimada is sweating profusely, full-body shudders wrecking him whenever Antonio pushes in and the blunt head of his cock presses into the spongy flesh of his inner walls – and, presumably, the ripe little cluster of his prostate.

Antonio guffaws when Shimada doesn’t answer, his big hand adorned with wide, expensive rings coming down on his ass in a meaty slap that has Shimada jump once more, his insides squeezing down almost painfully, muscles twitching around his flexing, pulsing cock.

It is then that the door to his office flies open and the nuisance from earlier spills inside, weapons drawn and faces set into tight scowls – until they register what is going on and their steps visibly falter.

Antonio laughs again, unconcerned – and a little annoyed at his incompetent security.

“Guests!”

He slaps Shimada again, watching how his ass jiggles and the print of his hand slowly and viciously becomes visible.

“This is a private affair, however… so I have to insist you wait in line – outside.”

Shimada groans. Antonio can’t see his face, but he can see the curve of his ears, brick red and practically glowing. He squirms, but a shift of his hips quickly has him back on track while the four intruders are visibly confused – one of them flushing faintly and chewing viciously at the end of a cigar.

He can even recognize one of them – Commander Gabriel Reyes, looking more frustrated and angry by the second as he takes a couple steps forward, lifting one of his heavy shotguns.

“Get your dick out of him. We have to talk, Antonio.”

Antonio grins wide.

“I can see there are no manners being taught in Blackwatch.”

He thinks he could come like this: fucking Hanzo Fucking Shimada and laughing in Commander Reyes’ face – but the good Commander has other ideas.

Hanzo slowly rounds his toy, watching how the sweat drips from the tip of his nose, his sensual wide mouth hanging open.

Hanzo enjoys playing with him in a way he hasn’t enjoyed any of his toys in a long while. The man is sturdy and a good sport about it; he can take what Hanzo gives him and doesn’t whine about it.

His broad back is littered with welts but nothing is bleeding. Sensitive but not excruciating. Just how Hanzo likes it.

He lets the arm length lash trail across the wide shoulders and watches the man shiver, then lean up a bit and into the touch. He carefully stretches his muscles, hands flexing and curling to get the blood circulation to pick up again in the wide steel manacles.

“You are good,” Hanzo murmurs. He steps around him again, nudging the handle of the whip beneath his chin until he lifts his head and lets it fall back, baring his throat and hairy chest to Hanzo’s gaze.

He grins, but it is exhausted. They’ve been at it for a while. Long enough that the sass is almost gone out of him.

For a second it looks like he is going to answer, but then he just shakes his head and Hanzo lets the lash of the whip tickle against his furry pecs, then strolls casually around him once more.

Whipping the American is almost cathartic. Every lash is met with a satisfying, thick sound and accentuated by his rough grunts. Every hit leaves a new stripe behind that his toy takes so very well.

“Will you scream for me tonight?” he mumbles, giving him another lash and listening to the low groan that accompanies it. He wanders around him again, while the American pants, tongue lolling like one of his dogs.

“N..” he starts, but has to swallow, wet his throat before he can get something out. “Never.”

Hanzo stares at him in contemplation, taking in the large, obvious bulge in his pants that he doesn’t make a move to hide – to the contrary, when he notices Hanzo staring, he opens his thighs. Shows himself off and grins at him cocksure.

Hanzo clicks with his tongue in disgust and rounds him once more to resume.

He is patient. He will get what he want – the man’s cries as much as his cock.

Akande wonders if this is what Shimada considers light fun. He stands off to the side, watching as Shimada lays into the man he’s been interrogating for some time – at least he thinks he has been interrogating him. Everything not directed at him has been strictly Japanese, and by this time he is suitably sure that Shimada would be doing this if he had a reason or not.

There is something mesmerizing about the Shimada heir like this: his knee is placed on the bound man’s thigh, sure to dig into the large muscle there, one gloved hand used to brace himself against his shoulder while the other, adorned with an exquisite looking knuckle ring is slamming against his victim’s cheek again and again.

His hair has somewhat slipped out of the carefully slicked-back look, and there is a wide, sharp grin on his face. He looks deranged but beautiful even more so with splatters of blood against his face.

Akande would have liked to have the surprisingly amusing evening finish over the delicious meal Shimada had offered him, but he was nothing if not adaptable. Different cultures do have different customs, after all.

Suddenly, Shimada straightens up. Akande is not sure what the sign has been – whether he’s gotten the information he likes or whether he’s simply gotten bored – but all of a sudden he pulls out a sleek, black pistol and shoots the man right between the eyes.

Akande shifts his weight and watches Shimada whirl on him. He almost reaches for his own weapon when Shimada lets his own gun fall carelessly to the ground and prowls towards him.

He falls to his knees in front of him, hands greedily grabbing at his belt and jerking it open. Akande watches, eyebrows drawn, arms slowly, hesitantly unfolding. He glances towards the two big dogs flanking the door, but they are sitting like statues, unconcerned with anything that’s happening, even when he puts his hand on their master’s head.

He is reasonably sure they are used to this very picture.

Staring down at Shimada stuffing his throat with his cock, he is a bit concerned with those sharp teeth that are decidedly more red than white at the moment.

Shimada is wild for cock, gagging on Akande when he tries to fuck his throat on his not-yet-hard dick, and Akande wants to slow him down, but he is reasonably sure the effort will not be met favorably.

He sighs and closes his eyes, listening to the wet sounds of Shimada gurgling on his dick, feeling the silky, hot clutch of his throat.

Seems like he’ll just have to stay put and let Shimada unload the energy that has ramped up so sharply during his ‘entertainment’.

Jesse is bracing himself next to Gabriel’s head. Like this, it is as if he’s doing push-ups again, only that his cock is pressing into the slick, warm space between Gabriel’s thighs and making the whole thing that much better.

“Wanna tell me about it now?” he pants close to Gabriel’s ear, making the man squirm from the tickle of his breath, then pressing wet little kisses against the shell until Gabriel stretches beneath him. The motion goes through his body until the massive muscles in his thighs bunch up. Jesse chokes, fingers curling into the sheets as he feels like Gabriel could very well pop his fucking dick with those damn thighs of his.

“What’re you talkin’ about,” Gabriel mumbles. He’s slurring a bit, voice a sensual purr as he sinks back into the bed. Jesse has already sucked him off, the corners of his mouth and the hinges of his jaw still aching pleasantly – and from the looks of it, Gabriel is ready to fall asleep with Jesse fucking into the slick space he offers up.

Which is… kind of hot, but Jesse has other ideas for now.

He goes down on his elbows, practically lying down on top of Gabriel who grunts and glances at him in annoyance with a glittering, dark eye.

Jesse grabs his chin with one hand, cradling it in the wide palm as he turns Gabriel’s had around to better look at his face.

“Wanna tell me about that little story with you and Gerard?” he murmurs, hips still working, though slower now; a relaxed rocking motion that has his dick move minimally in the warm cradle of Gabriel’s thighs. He can feel his foreskin sliding over the wet head of his dick like this – and if he concentrates enough, he thinks he can feel it whenever the sensitive tip nestles up behind Gabriel’s balls.

Gabriel – bless his soul – grins a bit despite the faint flush glowing at the tips of his ears, and starts to move beneath Jesse. He pushes himself up, easily taking Jesse with him (and damn if that doesn’t make Jesse’s dick sit up at attention; flexing and drooling at the show of easy strength; how Gabriel’s massive biceps bunch).

“Stop being ridiculous and get on with it.”

Jesse hums, but he’s not easily dissuaded. He presses his face into the crook of Gabriel’s neck. He takes his own weight up once again, but keeps himself plastered against his commander’s back, his hips minimally moving; just keeping him on a nice, even burn of lust as he fucks between Gabriel’s thighs.

“Seems to be like you don’t wanna talk about it, boss,” he croons, letting the tip of his nose run up to Gabriel’s ear again, then gently biting at the delicate cartilage. “You got somethin’ to hide, now? Like somethin’… untoward, happened?”

Gabriel squirms. Jesse can feel his ears heat up against his tongue, and the longer Gabriel hesitates and obviously tries to think of an explanation, the more intrigued Jesse gets.

“Oh? ‘S that it? Somethin’ did happen, yeah? Somethin’… hot ‘n heavy…”

And then, when Gabriel tries to turn his head away, Jesse catches it again (”Oh no… you stay right here, boss…”), turning it back to the side so he can bite and lick at Gabriel’s hot ear.

“Tell me ‘bout it,” he implores, voice gone impossibly lower, cock flexing enough that Gabriel has to feel it, his mouth falling open on a wet little gasp. His dark eyes go glassy again. Maybe he’s in the mood for a second round after all.

“Gerard saved you from… something,” Jesse murmurs idly, grunting as he squirms around and gets his other arm beneath Gabriel while still braced on that elbow, fingers searching for one of those small, dark nipples.

““N you hate being in debt…”

He is just babbling, but Gabriel is not protesting, so he keeps going, feeling Gabriel’s breathing pick up as he plucks at that sweet little nipple, feeling Gabriel’s thighs tremble around him.

“Did you show him your gratitude?” Jesse mumbles, breathing hard and wet into Gabriel’s ear, palm a little sweaty against his bearded chin. “Did you fall onto your knees in an… alleyway or somethin’ and showed him your gratitude right then and-”

“H-Hotel room,” Gabriel interrupts him breathily, voice gone all soft and sweet. His ass is a perfect goddamn pillow against Jesse’s hipbones, pressed tightly against him as Jesse stalls for a second, brain trying to keep up; then takes up his thrusts again. Harder. More insistent.

“Yeah?? In a hotel??” he pants, balls feeling hot and full; toes digging into the bed and curling as he holds on to his suddenly very present orgasm.

“Got him in a room,” Gabriel whispers, fingers curling rhythmically into his pillow; like a kitten. “Didn’t let him clean up. Just ripped his pants down and swallowed him down. Fucked my throat on his dick.”

Jesse swears softly, hips stilling mostly other than little jerking thrusts that have tears shoot into his eyes of overstimulation. He wants to come so badly, but he’s afraid the rush of blood in his ears will drown out Gabriel’s soft, turned-on voice.

“Got everything nice and wet. Drooled so damn much that I almost had to buy him a new pair of those expensive goddamn pants.” He whines now, tries to push up onto his knees, and Jesse groans, pushes against the motion, hisses: “Fuck! Keep your legs- k-keep your legs together! Fuck… B-boss…”

Gabriel makes a sound that’s so close to a whimper that Jesse feels like he has a false start, cock jerking hard, balls throbbing painfully…

Gabriel keeps still, presses his legs together for him once more.

“Got my fingers wet with spit and fingered his hole… Liked it well enough. Came like a goddamn freight train and choked me on his dick. Shot that load right into my belly…”

Jesse swears again, then muffles himself by biting at Gabriel’s round, strong shoulder. He can’t keep himself from coming; he couldn’t stop it if the Strike Commander himself swept in and held his pulse rifle against his temple.

Gabriel is panting beneath him, wet and harsh, body tight and hot. He’s ready for more, no matter if Jesse’s dick is up for it or not, and Jesse wonders if they can recreate the little gem from Gabriel’s past. He likes the thought of getting his fingers between Gabriel’s fat cheeks; squeeze his big digits into that warm little space while choking himself on his cock.

He also wonders if he could negotiate a little special bonus for missions well-done. He might just be able to get away with it if he can persuade Genji to work with him.

mujaween
replied to your post “Virgin Gabe stuck in a spreader bar while, dilf Genji eats him out and…”

Shit that’s really good, Genji says McCree can come watch if it will make Gabe feel more comfortable having his friend there. And when everything starts getting hot and heavy and Gabe gets really into it Jesse can offer up his dick ❤️

Commander Shimada is slowly chewing on a bubble gum. He’d much rather be puffing on a cigar – he stares at McCree balefully, who is sitting a few meters away, his cigarillo hanging all but forgotten in the corner of his mouth – but the smoke does not agree with his delicate machinery, unfortunately.

He narrows his eyes at Reyes’ scrunched-up face and leans back, arms crossing over his chest. He blows a bubble, then pops it obnoxiously, watching Gabriel’s posture get more withdrawn. He’s a big guy with broad shoulders and thick biceps, but he can make himself surprisingly small.

“So,” Genji finally mutters, scratching a hand idly through his beard, thumb tracing one of the scars cutting through it. “That’s a revelation.”

“Got a problem with it?” Gabriel asks, voice silky but poisonous. His dark eyes are glittering meanly at his Commander, and Genji has seen it often enough – usually before he unleashed his boys on a target – that he lifts his hands up, capitulating good naturedly.

McCree shifts where he is sitting. Genji glances at him briefly and sees how blotchy red his face has gotten, eyes staring a bit glassy at Reyes. He can almost smell McCree’s boner, and he is glad that he opted to furiously chew on his cigarillo instead of making a smart comment.

Wordlessly, Genji slides his pack of gums towards him, then turns back to Reyes who is looking decidedly murderous now, a thin sheen of sweat along his hair line. Gabriel is a quiet one; patient – but he doesn’t take ridicule well.

“You’re one of my best,” Genji says slowly, watching Reyes relax a bit, “it greatly limits my options for ops if I can’t put you where I need you any time I want.”

Gabriel’s skin darkens with a mild flush – reacting so sweetly to a bit of teasing -, and his dark eyes flick away from Genji’s amused, cool stare before he squares his jaw and looks straight back at him.

“Give me a day. I’ll… see that I-”

“No.”

Reyes flounders for a second, and Genji leans forward, a slow smile tugging on the corner of his mouth – one of those he knows look good, even after so many years.

“I’ll take care of it. You’re mine.” He flicks his eyes towards Jesse and croons: “You both are.”

They sit very silent, their big bodies so still he is sure his boys have stopped breathing. He looks back at Gabriel who has flushed even more fiercely, his large hands with long, sensual fingers carefully flexing on top of the table.

Genji can’t believe nobody’s ever indulged in him.

“McCree can be there,” he promises, not missing how the both of them shoot each other quick little glances, “if you want to, that is. Bet he’d love to hold your hands while I pull you on my cock.”

Gabriel jerks a bit like he’s touched something electric, and Jesse groans, throwing a hand up and over his eyes.

“Goddamnit, boss.”

Genji grins.

.o.

It turns out, Gabriel does want McCree to be there, and McCree does hold his hands – but it isn’t long until he’s fumbling at his fly, hectically pulling out his dick when Gabriel is mewling so sweetly just from a couple of his commander’s fingers.

He’s stretched out beautifully; all that bulky muscle on display, cock fat and swollen, lying in the crease of his thigh.

Reyes is watching him with glassy eyes, mouth open and panting as he shimmies his hips from side to side. Restless. Glancing at his Commander’s cock, big and hard and scarred like the rest of his human body, as Genji shuffles forward.

His hands are on Gabriel’s thighs, squeezing, savoring how thick the muscles are. He’s fucked a lot of people. A lot of people-

but he doesn’t think he’s ever had someone with as nice a figure as Gabriel. He is almost stupidly curvy, and Genji can’t get over how far he can wrap his big hands around his waist.

That shouldn’t be…

That shouldn’t be legal.

When he nudges in, Gabriel squirms more; his sensual lips are pressed into a tight line, face gone rigid.

He’s nervous.

“McCree. Do something,” Genji lazily commands, and McCree – busy with jerking himself to the sight of his friend – jumps to action and shuffles forward.

Genji watches as he nudges his ruddy cock against Reyes’ finely trimmed goatee, trying to breathe through the feeling of Gabriel’s silky hot insides clamped around the tip of his dick.

It doesn’t take long until Gabriel is distracted by Jesse’s antics; looking almost angry when he opens his mouth and laps clumsily at the ruddy fat head that’s getting his beard tacky.

There’s something to say about enthusiasm, though.

He uses Reyes’ distraction to slip in to the hilt, eyes closing and fans kicking on as he savors the feeling of Gabriel’s twitching insides. He almost mistakes the high, breathy whine as one of his internal processes before he realizes it’s Gabriel – looking at him out of the corner of his eyes, mouth open and wet with the tip of Jesse’s cock hovering awkwardly in that humid, warm space as he struggles with the feeling of fullness.

“Like it?” Genji croons, hips rocking before Gabriel can answer, and laughing when it makes the other man scramble to grab at his sleek body armor as if trying to keep him still, only to stare at him, wordless and mesmerized when Genji keeps fucking him slow and deep.

Makes him feel the girth and weight of his cock.

He doesn’t think Gabriel will last long; but he has no qualms fucking him through his jittery little orgasm until he’s good for a second round.

By the looks of it, he will get a good show, too: McCree is just rude enough to demand Gabriel’s mouth back on his dick, his cheeks bright red from the show of his friend, and the Commander can’t say that it’s a hardship to watch Reyes’ clumsy, earnest attempts at sucking him off.

“We’ll just have to train more,” he murmurs as he fucks slow and patient, one hand curled around Gabriel’s balls, feeling already how tight and ripe they are; ready to shoot off. “Can’t have you go on my ops ill-prepared, after all…”

I promised 1 fic of an older compilation

And it doesn’t get much older than the very first comp 🙂

Since today is easter, I thought the Oviposition fic might be just what everybody needs today

If you want to check out what other fics are in the compilation, you can find the post on it here with links to my gumroad where you can purchase it.

If you want to tip me, you can find my Ko-Fi here

other than that: please enjoy ❤

Reaper76 – Oviposition – Being A Goold Old Boy

Reaper is shaking his head in refusal, rubbing his forehead into the bedding. His shoulders are bunched tight and shaking, body gearing up for denial that never comes. It only takes Soldier’s large hand at the small of his back, blunt, broad fingertips rubbing into the clammy, sweaty skin, to calm him back down.

“Yes, you will be,” he tells him, gruff voice low, almost gentle for him – yet still very much no–nonsense. He watches how Reaper already struggles, rim pouty and constantly moving as he tries and only barely manages not to bear down on the three smooth ceramic eggs currently nuzzled within his guts. Every time the swollen rim flares open, Jack can see the dark grey bottom of the last egg he fitted into him.

He places his thumb squarely on the opening and pushes gently as the other hand rubs Reaper’s back, trying to soothe away his low, pained grunt. Reaper’s voice has considerably climbed in the last five minutes, sweat breaking out all over his back and sides at Jack’s calm announcement.

“I will give you one more egg. And then you will put on some nice, comfy clothes and go out. I want you to go and get a glass of water and stay where others can see you for four minutes. One for each egg you let me push into your slutty, needy ass.

You don’t need to talk to anybody. You don’t even need to look at them. I just want you to be a good, brave boy.

And when you’re done… then you can come back and we’ll take care of this.”

“No, please,” Reaper rasps. He sounds almost in tears; almost enough to make Jack rethink his demand. Still, as he begs, he angles his body backwards, presses into Jack’s thumb just to feel him jostle the heavy eggs already in his gut; making him feel swollen and bulky to the point where he thought he might not even be able to walk without a waddle. The thought of going out into the open like that makes his toes curl and smoke billow from between the clench of his teeth.

“You love this,” the Soldier tells him gently. He leans down, presses a fleeting kiss to the clenching, lube–wet muscle, and proceeds to wipe his lips against one round, plump ass cheek. He watches Gabriel shake his head in denial, shoulders pulling towards his ears, body trying to become thick, dark smog before he can make himself go corporeal again.

Jack smirks, hand fumbling for the last egg lying on the sheets. Even after all these years Gabriel had not changed. Seems not even death could make him any less of a greedy humiliation slut.

“It’s okay. You don’t need to admit it. You got me for that, right?”

He sits up again, the ball of his hand pressing firmly against the small of Gabriel’s back to prepare him for the new egg. Still, Reaper sounds panicked when he feels the smooth edge of the ceramic kissing up to his hole. He throws his head back with a drawn out grunt, body shaking and sweaty, rim flexing closed in denial, then blooming open greedily for more.

Jack waits patiently until that happens before asserting pressure, slow and consistent, his cock surging at the sight of Reaper’s rim stretching for the intruder.

“Naughty slut,” he murmurs practically absent minded. His free hand slides down, cups the tight swell of Gabriel’s abdomen and massages it lightly, voice pitched low, murmuring soothing nonsense as he makes Gabriel accept the intrusion.

He imagines he can feel it, too – the eggs moving within him, one pressing against his fingers… or maybe it’s just Gabriel’s muscles, iron hard and quivering, his cock hanging in an undecided half–hard state since Jack’s announcement.

He takes long after the last egg. Jack lets him move however he wants, which first is a slow, calculated collapse onto his belly, and then with a soft groan onto his side because he can’t deal with the pressure.

Jack cleans him with a wet rag, wiping the drool and tears of overstimulation from his face even though he is fussy, trying to pull away and growl. It morphs into a groan when it makes the heavy objects in his gut shift.

“Are you ready?” the Soldier murmurs finally, soft wide sweater and pants laid out next to Reaper.

Gabriel tried to ignore them, not even deigning to look, but now he is, hands slowly kneading into the bedding.

“I don’t know about this…” he mumbles, and Jack sighs with a soft, indulgent smile and leans down, hand rubbing across Reaper’s shorn scalp.

“That’s okay. You don’t need to know anything. You just need to do what I tell you, because you’re a little slut and you want me to. Right?”

For a moment, Reaper’s face contorts; he looks unhappy and stubborn, tears filling his dark, beautiful eyes even as his cock starts to get interested once more – and then it smoothes out and becomes practically serene, head turning so he can nuzzle into Jack’s hand.

“Yes…”

“Very good. Then get up and be a good boy. Four minutes. You can do it.”

.o.

Gabriel is shaking by the time Jack slowly guides him into a kneeling position, their grip on each other’s biceps white knuckled and bruising. There is a wet spot slowly, stubbornly spreading on the front of Gabriel’s sweatpants and Jack’s voice sounds rougher, barely even human anymore, when he demands: “Did they see that? Did they see what a nasty little slut you are?”

His eyes are wide, a little wild. He feels crazy and thinks he must look the part. Sound the part. Gabriel groans, knees crashing the last couple centimeters to the floor when his legs give out.

“Who has seen you?” Jack wants to know, voice a little lower, hand rubbing shakily across Gabriel’s shorn head, feeling the rasp of the stubble against his palm. Gabriel doesn’t want to answer – he is preoccupied with shoving weakly at his pants, trying to get them off.

“I need to… please… Jack I need to…” He has trouble speaking and concentrating. There is black smoke wafting in delicate tendrils from the corners of his eyes. His voice is hoarse like Jack has fucked his throat for too long and too rough.

He can remedy that – as Gabriel finally shoves his pants down to his incredible thighs, Jack fishes out his dick. His heart is beating so fast, he feels harried. Under attack.

“Have they seen what a slut you are? Have they seen that you’re a dirty whore that’s debasing himself just to get some dick?”

Gabriel is clutching at Jack’s hips. He is shaking more intensely now, sweat dripping down the sides of his face. He grunts, bearing down, pushing at the clutch of ceramic eggs nestled in his guts.

When the wet head of Jack’s cock smears across his mouth, he opens it just the same, eyes opening, staring up helplessly at the Soldier. Letting himself get used.

Jack nudges his hips forward, drags the sensitive glans across Gabriel’s tongue and listens to the soft thump of an egg hitting the ground – watches the slight strain around Gabriel’s eyes – and thinks that he must be crazy; to stick his cock anywhere near Reaper when he was like this, mindless, straining, grunting, body caught on the sharp edge where it didn’t know whether the sensations bombarding it were good or bad.

But he was so very sweet like this, too; trying so hard to be open and receiving; letting Jack murmur sweet abuse at him and clamoring for more of the same treatment.

“Maybe I should let them in when I’m done with you,” Jack murmurs, belly feeling tight and hot and prickly. He feels Gabriel’s fingers spasm at his hips and his nails getting sharp and dangerous for a second. He plows on, listening to Gabriel strain, imagining his rim – slimy with lube, slowly stretching open farther and farther as he tried to deposit another egg: “Let them in and see you; curled around your little clutch of eggs. Let them have a look at your sloppy, fucked out hole. Let them know just exactly how you need to be handled in the future.”

Gabriel whines long and high through his nose; a weak whistle as he digs his sharp claws into Jack’s hips, pain licking up his spine and only adding to the heat of the moment as Gabriel jerks and shudders, his constricting muscles forcing another egg out while his cock drools thick globs of cum to the ground.

“Yeah that’s it,” the Soldier murmurs, hands holding onto Reaper’s head, fingers rubbing along the greying stubble of his skull. “That’s. It.”

Reaper’s drugged up (Moira experimenting on him or maybe someone tried to capture him, idk) and Sombra takes advantage of him being so docile and compliant.

When she drags her sharp fingernail along the metal supporting Reaper’s spine, the running lights along the side light up and the plates shift against each other.

Reaper doesn’t make a sound other than his heave, consistent breathing. When Sombra flicks her fingers, she can see the pull of the nanomachines urging the big bulk of his body around and onto his back.

His eyes are glassy and soft looking; as soft as his beard when she pets it gently, scratching beneath his chin.

“Dulcito,” she croons, crawling up unto the cold table Moira left him on.

He doesn’t react other than turning into the petting, his heavy eyes starting to close sleepily. She needs to snap her fingers in front of his nose a few sharp times before he blearily opens up again.

“Don’t sleep yet,” she murmurs, “I got work for you.”

He seems to wake up a bit more, still, when she crawls further up, taking his head between her thighs. His big hands move upwards clumsily, and she helps them find her ass and hips.

“There you go. Good boy.”

Moira would give her hell again if she left him messy and needy, but she figures the good doctor must enjoy it one way or another – otherwise she wouldn’t leave him unprotected like this after having pumped him full of whatever.

His tongue is long and cool but slippery, and he licks slow and patient at her; sweetly docile and needing her approval for every step of the way.

Drugged-up Gabriel was the best in Sombra’s opinion. So unguarded. A little kitten looking for love.

She rocks her hips, presses down on his jaw, makes him struggle weakly when he can’t breathe for a bit longer than is comfortable, then lifts up again, moving so he can focus on her throbbing clit.

“Need to find out what she pumps you full of,” she murmurs.

Was asked for farmer!Jesse rimming shy centaur!Gabriel!

Jesse’s farm is home to all kinds of critters – all of them rescued out of less-than-desirable circumstances.

They are, for the most part, unable to go back to freedom for one reason or another… or refuse to like Gabriel does.

He hasn’t outright stated his reasons; maybe there is a part of him that fears his old herd would not take him in again, or he might be captured once more to make pretty little hops in a circus or be the little ‘show stud’ for a wealthy lady.

Jesse is not entirely sure, but he’s left the door of the paddock open on many nights and never has Gabriel accepted it and left.

Gabriel is a good boy. One of his favorites, if Jesse is honest. A gorgeous centaur even despite the deep scars that mar his dark brown coat.

Even more gorgeous when he is being shy like now: arms stacked against the side of the barn and face hidden against them, while his hoofs dance restlessly left and right.

When Jesse touches his muscular rump with one big, warm hand, he flicks his tail once, sharp, catching the farmer on the cheek.

Jesse laughs at that even through a hiss of pain and rubs the stinging spot.

“Easy, now,” he croons, thumb rubbing back and forth across the glossy coat. Gabriel shudders once – a full body twitch that goes from the base of his tail all the way up to the back of his neck.

Jesse leans forward and nuzzles next to his hand, so close to his goal that Gabriel does another nervous side-step. When Jesse glances up he can just about see the brick red upper curve of his ear.

It is cute, really – because any other time, Gabriel fancies himself the boss of any other inhabitant of the farm, prancing and showing off his strong, gorgeous body on the wide plane that the farmer owns.

Now, though, he’s very quiet and very shy… just from the prospect of Jesse shoving his face between his muscular hind legs and giving his pretty asshole a good licking.

“You’re ridiculous,” Jesse drawls, big hand grabbing at the thick, glossy tail and shoving it out of the way until Gabriel lifts it himself, albeit almost reluctantly.

“Just do it,” the centaur murmurs. He sounds so sullen that Jesse snorts a laugh – and pretends like he isn’t fighting down the instinctual reaction to jump to the side because Gabriel is a little bastard and definitely would kick at him.

However, Gabriel does not seem to have noticed – he is too preoccupied with burying his face in his arms once more, probably feeling Jesse’s warm breath against the pouting, dark rim of his anus.

“There you go,” Jesse croons, voice pitched low and soothing, hands rubbing along the backs of Gabriel’s legs, smoothing down his already impeccable fur.

He doesn’t take his time admiring the sight – is quite sure he is on a timer here before Gabriel’s nerves leave him and he’ll kick out and run away – so he just gets his face in there and licks it.

It is silky soft and smooth against his tongue. Jesse presses closer, smelling nothing but the warm scent of Gabriel’s body. He can feel the fat muscle tremble beneath his tongue as he licks again, and again, and grabs at the backs of Gabriel’s legs like he would at a lover’s ass.

They’re out in the open, any of his charges could come trotting around the corner, but it is not like it is unheard or unseen of Jesse to tend to his lovely creatures and soothe them through some of their anxieties with his thick, sturdy body.

However, Gabriel has proven himself to be delightfully skittish when it comes to being seen in a compromising situation, and it amuses Jesse to no end, even if he would never say so openly.

He keeps his licks slow and leisurely, dragging the flat of his tongue all around the black rim until it is shiny with spit and Gabriel is making soft, punched out noises.

When he starts utilizing his hands, thumbs on either side of the pouty rim to pull it a bit apart and let him lick inside, however, he starts getting louder. More agitated.

One of his big hoofs stomps at the ground, muscles twitching in his powerful hind legs as he makes aborted, deep-chested sounds that grab Jesse directly by the balls.

He wishes he could properly reach between Gabriel’s legs and grab at his cock that would be no-doubt out of the sheath by now, but he is also loath to leave his place at Gabriel’s ass; warm and silky as it is.

He wonders, as he listens to Gabriel muffle his whines against his big, muscular arms, if he could make him come like this; with a little human tongue in that big, tasty centaur ass of his.

He wonders if Gabriel would do as he always does when Jesse makes love to him, and immediately trot away after he’s come; embarrassed and a bit petulant, pretending like he wasn’t the least bit interested in Jesse’s thick, hairy body.

He just might have to find out.

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