1st Ko-Fi Fic Prompt :)

Here’s the first fic in my list commissioned by @mujaween following this post of Genji hacking McCree’s phone to look at lewd pictures and wanting all the dirty details… got a bit carried away and it got ~2,400 words instead :’ )

“Ugh Genji… come on, you’re a good lad an’ all but I can’t…” Jesse trails off, eyes tracking the movement of the bottle Genji is slowly swaying in front of him, tantalizing as the dark liquid sloshes inside.

Genji hums, the sound a bit robotic behind his mask, and kneels down next to Jesse in a fluid, graceful motion.

“What’s the matter? Don’t like it anymore?”

Jesse’s dark eyes are pinned on the bottle. He wants it badly, Genji can tell, but he’s not yet reaching for it, cheeks going ruddy red beneath his scruffy beard as he shrugs his shoulders and tugs the brim of his hat down to shield his eyes from Genji’s unwavering stare.

“Yourbrother’sgon’beangrywithme’sall,” he slurs quick and under his breath, then adds a bit more intelligible: “Can’t be comin’ home to him stinkin’ of booze all the time.”

Genji shifts minimally, his cock feeling warm and heavy beneath the fabric of his codpiece.

“It’s just once a week,” he wheedles, “Can’t believe the big Jesse McCree is cowed by some little housewife antics.”

Jesse flinches and chokes on his spit, quickly sitting up straight from his slump on the roof of the base and eying Genji nervously… or embarrassed? Genji cocks his head, watching the color of Jesse’s face darken even more before the other suddenly thrusts his arm out and practically snatches the booze out of Genji’s hands.

“Ye’re right. ‘course you are. Just once a week – a man is allowed to enjoy himself, right?”

Genji nods sagely. “Of course he is.”

“Yeah. Yes. ‘Course he is.”

Genji slips closer, settling down next to Jesse, hands folded casually across the swell of his cock beneath the fabric, faceplate in place to shield how hot his cheeks had gotten and how glassy he knew his eyes are already.

Jesse unscrews the booze easy enough and knocks shoulders with Genji amicably, then takes a little swig.

.o.

Jesse is no alcoholic by any stretch of the imagination, but he’s cocky and trusting enough that he lets himself easily get goaded into drinking a bit more than he should.

When he starts rummaging in his serape to fish a cigar out of its depths, it is easy for Genji to nab his phone for a second, place the little chip on the back and push it back into the back pocket of Jesse’s jeans.

He then tucks out his own phone, heart beating fast with adrenalin as he selects the app he needs, watching as a new picture folder is being downloaded.

His mouth goes dry when he finally opens it up and he is presented with Jesse’s private pictures. The latest one just greets him in a tiny preview yet still makes him bite his tongue to keep quiet as he quickly taps on it.

Next to him, Jesse finally has produced the cigar and carefully clips the end, humming a little tune back in his throat. He has no idea what his silent companion is up to as the unreadable mask is directed at the screen of Genji’s phone.

A screen where he can see what he knows is McCree’s dick – fat and ruddy, with his hairy belly visible in the bottom of the frame while the rest is occupied by his very own brother, gazing up with an out-of-it expression as he suckles at the cock.

Genji shifts, free hand dropping between his thighs, grabbing at his cock as he stares mesmerized at the POV shot; how Hanzo’s perfectly groomed beard is already shiny with spit. How there are more tacky spots along his sharp cheekbones where McCree must have rubbed the tip of his cock against – or maybe even slapped Hanzo with his dick, and isn’t that a nice thought? His brother on his knees, begging for cock and getting slapped with a big ruddy dick for his trouble?

Hanzo is almost cross-eyed, staring up into the camera, his dark eyes bottomless and glassy. Needy. There is a bulge in the left side of his cheek where Jesse has pushed his dick into, and Genji wants that so badly he almost feels nauseous.

When he sees the date of the picture, he wants to sob. Last night. Last night Jesse got to fuck his brother; had him on his dick like a cheap whore and made pictures of him sucking his dick – and Genji… Genji has been in his room, grunt fucking his fist against the mattress and imagining it was Hanzo; sloppy and used and just as slutty as he always imagines Hanzo will be.

“Had a good night yesterday? You were gone pretty quick.” He can’t stop staring at the stretch of Hanzo’s lips around a cock, or the metal of McCree’s arm, fingers curled unforgivingly in Hanzo’s hair – ready to pull him down on the dick and use him as a fleshlight.

Jesse grunts noncommittally, then seems to think a bit more on it, eyes squinting into the dark sky as he recollects what he’s been up to – then the corner of his mouth ticks up.

“Yeah. Somethin’ like that. Was good.”

Genji can see that. His eyes are glued to the screen, thumb unwilling to swipe to the next picture. The longer he watches, the more details he can see; like the fact that Hanzo is wearing make-up; subtle but there, the sharp, dark line around his eyes a bit muddied by unshed tears.

God, Genji wants that. Wants to fuck his brother so good he cries.

“Yes? Did you have fun?”

Jesse chuckles, rolling the lit cigar into the corner of his mouth and leaning back against the wall, cocky and satisfied.

“Yep. Had some good wholesome fun with… uh…” He starts to realize with whom he is talking about whom and clears his throat awkwardly, finishing his sentence a bit lame with: “Yeah. Had fun.”

Genji is not deterred. His belly is on fire and his cock is spitting pre-cum against the tight fabric of his codpiece.

“Did my brother save a horse, cowboy?” His voice falls short miles of playful. It is rough and low. It becomes difficult to speak with the mask on, his breath hot and thick until he lifts his mildly shaking hand and unlatches it.

Jesse is quiet for a bit, taking a swig of the booze. He eyes Genji’s face which has to be as flushed as he feels, his hand curled around his phone so tightly that the case creaks.

“Shit,” Jesse murmurs, his cheeks taking on another deep, warm glow. He scratches at the back of his head, not looking at Genji who directs his gaze back down, swipes to the next picture and whimpers very quietly in the back of his throat.

“Yeah… s… s’pose so,” Jesse mutters next to him as Genji stares at his brother in a black dress that almost looks like a maid uniform but does not quite. There are pink slips of fabric everywhere; a silky band around his waist, and a laceline of it along the hem of the skirt. His hair is bound with a pink ribbon as well, though not all of it. It looks more artful like this and less like a necessity, and as he stares at it, something connects in his mind and he swipes back to the first picture and – there it is. The pink little slip of silk just barely visible in the black mess of Hanzo’s hair.

Genji lifts his free hand unthinkingly, biting at it to keep quiet; keep himself from slipping his dick out in front of McCree and fucking it, thinking of his big, serious brother wearing a little dress for his man just yesterday. His tits look fantastic in it, too; his torso is too broad, making the fabric strain, and giving his pecs a plush, full look – like they are perfectly capable to being fucked good.

He thinks back on his little housewife comment earlier and McCree’s weird reaction to it. He closes his eyes and breathes in deeply through his nose.

Jesse is still not looking at him. He seems embarrassed and Genji can’t even fathom it when just yesterday he’s had Hanzo in a dress sucking his dick.

“You definitely pulled the stick out of his ass,” Genji murmurs. Jesse is startled into a laugh, his voice sounding a bit hysterical when he answers: “Don’t know ‘bout that one. If anything I replaced it with somethin’ else.”

Then he takes another quick swig, his face looking pinched – like he is chastising himself for speaking like that, though Genji does not know whether it is because he is talking like that about his lover or because he is talking like that in front of his lover’s brother.

Or maybe both.

Genji pushes on to the next picture and becomes very quiet, staring at it as Jesse mutters under his breath, holding the bottle of booze to his chest like a shield.

Genji feels like crying as he stares at a picture of his brother’s ass. Hanzo seems to be kneeling on a bed or something, bracing himself on his shoulders so his hands are free to reach down and spread his cheeks apart for Jesse’s – Genji’s – viewing pleasure. There is black fabric bunched around his waist, probably of the same damn dress, skirt flipped up to let his lover fuck him and cream his hole; his hole that is flushed an irritated red from usage, loose and wet, obviously freshly dicked as it is still gaping buttery soft, with a thick drip of cum slowly oozing out of it.

Jesse is shifting restlessly next to him; has been for a while now, in fact – both of them quiet for a long time as Genji has been absorbed in the picture of his brother’s fucked-out cunt, and Jesse thinking… whatever.

When Genji glances over, he can see the bulge of his dick. Jesse’s always said that booze made him horny, and thinking of his brother behaving like a cockslut obviously only makes matters worse.

Genji swallows but his throat is still dry.

“How is it?” he asks. Jesse eyes him out of the corner of his eye, then grunts. “How’s what.”

Genji licks his lips, stares down at the screen of his phone, eyes tracking the red gape of Hanzo’s sloppy hole.

“How is it to fuck my brother.”

Jesse goes very still next to him, and for a moment Genji thinks this is it – Jesse will stand and walk away and never talk to him again. He won’t go telling Hanzo, that’s not who Jesse is, but he will definitely not stand for Hanzo’s brother to-

Jesse pushes his hat far down above his eyes until Genji can only see the ruddy red of his cheeks – so very similar to the color of his fat, hard dick when it slips into his brother’s used holes – and the line of his lips clamped tightly around his cigar.

He’s not gone yet, and Genji… Genji has to know. He’s going crazy having these pictures at his disposal; knowing that Hanzo willingly let himself get photographed like this-

“Jesse,” he rasps, leaning forward a bit, hand between his thighs, slipping the codpiece to the side to let his dick at the cool night air, wet with pre-cum and flexing with the need to come. “How is it to fuck my brother. Is he good on your cock? Does he feel nice?”

“Fuck yeah he does,” Jesse grunts, voice wrecked; so deep Genji can barely understand what he’s saying. “Can take me any time of the fucking week; anywhere I want. He’s so hungry for it; can’t fucking keep up with him most o’ the time.”

Jesse pinches the cigar between two fingers to keep it from falling to the floor, his mouth open and wet as he pants, hand on his dick similar to Genji though he has not yet pulled it out.

He sounds haunted; like he has to confide; like he’s been dying to for an eternity and the knowledge of how lewd Hanzo actually is is keeping him up at night.

Genji is jerking off openly now, staring at Jesse. He leans forward, pushes his hat back. He needs to see his eyes; how he looks like a man on a chase. Jesse flinches back a bit, licks his lips, glances at Genji’s face, then at his dick, out and wet and flushed an angry red.

“Shit,” he whispers, then a bit louder once more: “Shit.”

He closes his eyes, swallows, then opens them once again. Stares Genji straight in the eyes.

“He feels like he’s gonna keep your dick for good when you fuck him. He doesn’t wanna let you move but begs for it like a cat in heat. He’ll scratch you up for pullin’ out, an’ for pushin’ in. Pretends like he doesn’t want dick like he needs it to live and gets crazy for it a second later.”

He’s got his cock out now as well, both of them panting, staring at each other jerking off. Genji imagines it; Hanzo acting like a man possessed, howling like a goddamn cat for dick, to get fucked, but not wanting it to move as well.

Jesse curses under his breath, lets his head fall back, hips flexing into his fist. Genji closes his eyes and bites his lips; tries to imagine his brother’s hole on his cock; silky and wet and so very well fucked.

“He’s trained like a seasoned whore,” Jesse suddenly continues, hoarse. Genji bites his tongue. “Can take anything you give ‘im. Loves to be slapped around a bit. Wants to be fucked like a slut and acts like one, too. I-”

Jesse looks almost pained, his fist looking like he’s strangling his dick. “I wanna get him to a gas station sometime. Have him dolled up and ready for use. Watch him get dicked by the truckers. He’d love it, too.”

Genji has trouble swallowing, his tongue hanging out like a dog, cock aching.

“I want him,” he rasps, returning Jesse’s startled gaze, the sound of them jerking off slick and lewd in the cool air. “I want to fuck my big brother, Jesse.”

They stare at each other as they come, cheeks dark red and breaths puffing out, but an understanding between them that makes Genji feel nauseatingly hopeful.

(You can tip me here if you like 🙂 )

Brigitte, not quite used to fucking; or, more accurately: to leisurely fucking; to taking her time and enjoying the moment instead of having rushed, trembling little orgasms in the dark, trying to keep nice and quiet; loves her trysts with Zenyatta.

He exudes calm. Self-confidence. Even with his synthetic cock within the suckling heat of her mouth, he has the awareness to give back the pleasure and let his orbs roll warm and trembling along the dip of her spine, then the cleft of her ass until she spreads her thighs and lifts up into the gentle pressure.

However, before it touches her cunt, so sensitive, so primed for it, it will retreat once more, tugged on invisible strings and following the way back up it has taken.

She glances up at him, his impassive, gentle face, and her belly feels molten; a slow, delicious roll deep down inside her that makes her squirm on the spot.

Zenyatta’s hands are in her hair, and while she usually does not like wearing it open, there is something disarming in how sure he moves when he tugs the little band holding it together open to play with it.

His fingers are pleasingly formed, the joints made so nothing catches in between, and when he carefully tugs at her hair close to her scalp, she is startled by the low, guttural groan vibrating out of her chest; how tight and sensitive her nipples become in an instant as she spears herself deeper on his cock, drool slicking down his polished, warm crome pelvis towards the silky little cunt sitting just beneath.

He doesn’t say anything, just hums, and Brigitte can feel her face flush in embarrassment, feeling the quiet amusement radiating off of him.

She retaliates, fingers moving quick and a bit clumsy as she pushes her thumb into him, but Zenyatta does not need much as is; he is always sensitive to the touch; always so very ready to hiccup out a chirp like he is surprised and hasn’t seen it coming that her temper would inevitably flare.

His orbs move, rolling along her spine, and Brigitte purrs; gurgles around the silicone cock whose tip is so very pleasing; so sleek and squishy and easy to fuck her throat on.

She lifts her ass again, and this time the orbs follow suit: they slide smoothly where she wants to have them; one vibrating against her puffy cunt, the other against her ass, startling her into pulling back, spit still connecting her bottom lip with the gently bouncing teal cock in front of her.

Zenyatta cups her face, hands warm, a few strands of her long, dark hair still draped across his fingers.

“Breathe,” he hums, and she stares at his gently pulsating array, not sure what is going to happen, but following suit anyway, body tight and nervous, vibrating in front of him as he makes a soft sound, low and melodic – and the pressure against her tender opening increases.

“Oh… Oh…” she whispers, eyes going wide, staring at his array as she feels herself getting stretched, stretched, stretched, and she is not aware of the pitiful whine coming from her until he shushes her, his fingertips touching her swollen, wet lips.

“Everything is well. Breathe. Stay calm-”

He guides her down towards his cock, pulsating just as slow and pleasing as the dots on his faceplate. He helps her move, but she can hardly focus on it; lets him merely use her mouth as a warm, slippery hole to fuck as he pushes his orb into her aching cunt, stretching her to the max and beyond, her eyes still wide as she gently gurgles on the cock dicking her throat.

There is a moment, a pang of deep, delicious fear that her body won’t be able to take it; that there is no way she can take the big orb – and then the moment passes and the object has pushed past the widest point, and Brigitte grunts like an animal, body sagging minutely. She can feel every muscle relaxing almost violently and for a second she thinks, delirious, that she must have pissed herself, but then she is focusing back on the orb slipping deeper into her; moving farther with gentle, vibrating shoves – like a little living being snuggling into her body.

She can feel it vibrate inside her; can feel it heavy and real, pushing down at her belly, and when one trembling hand reaches down to feel, there is a distinct swell there that hasn’t been before. She can feel Zenyatta’s orb vibrate in the trembling cup of her hand, and still he looks down on her with that calm, serene faceplate. He has her thick hair curled around his hands, keeping it out of the way and holding her nice and still for his hips that keep fucking her slack mouth with mechanic precision.

“You are doing so well… I so enjoy our little play sessions, Brigitte.”

She is whining in a crescendo, her whole body trying to seize up and come; she can feel the orgasm coming like nothing else, something big and almost frightening that has tears shooting into her eyes even as she wants to chant ‘yes yes yes please’ – but suddenly the vibrations pull back, the orb lying almost motionless, and Zenyatta strokes her sweat soaked hair and purrs: “Not yet. You need to ask when to come, if that is quite alright. We can play a lot longer if you can hold out for me. Do you want to?”

She sobs, pulling back, chest heaving; she’s never had to hold back on an orgasm, and the feeling is as horrible as it is making her feel like she is having a religious awakening. She nods, trembling, her body crawling back from the very edge reluctantly, her cunt pulsing swollen and hurt from the extreme stretch as the second orb continues to almost innocently vibrate away against her asshole.

“Very well,” Zenyatta murmurs, leaning down, his warm faceplate touching her sweaty forehead – and then the low, thrumming vibrations start up once more.

No explicit incest but kind of imagined still :’ ) so beware

She is languid and relaxed, as she well should be; this is a boon for Brigitte more than anything else, and Reinhardt croons as he steps between her thighs which open up so very easy for him as she watches him with a grin and heavy eyes, one hand idly plucking at a pale, plump nipple.

He can see the goosebumps the action provokes crawl down her body, and he follows it eagerly towards her thighs which he slowly, reverently strokes with his big hands, then towards her cunt; the lips spread slightly and flashing him with her candy pink insides.

“AAhh” he sighs, fingers digging into the thick muscle of her thighs, pushing them a bit farther apart. “I can still remember the first time I was allowed to step between your mother’s legs like this… they certainly weren’t as powerful as yours.”

She grins now, sharp and satisfied, and preens before his gaze. He can feel her muscles trembling in his grip as she tenses her thighs for him, and gives her another affectionate squeeze.

“Her cunt, though…” he continues, one hand sliding slowly upwards, thumb inching closer towards Brigitte’s hot center. She whimpers when his rough digit barely strokes along the gash of her pussy, and breathes more deeply when he slides it down once again, this time pushing in deeper; spreading her lips apart.

She is flushed a darker red, but still watching him, eyes narrowed in pleasure – enjoying every second.

“… she’s just as pretty and plump as yours… so tasty-”

“Uncle” she groans, drawn out and a bit petulant, the heat in her cheeks looking a bit more embarrassed, but not looking away as he takes his cock in hand, stroking it slowly – lifting it and showing it to her; how thick and powerful it is.

She squirms, licks her lips, eyes going bright. A cat ready to pounce. She reminds him of those big predators; huge and powerful.

He hums, stepping forward and replacing his slowly stroking thumb with the tip of his cock. Her folds are slippery and hot, already trying to cling to him. He would like to spread her on his fingers; have her come on them to get her more relaxed; stretch her pussy out to make him fit without pain, but in this she is just as her mother as well: greedy for the pain that comes with her pleasure.

He rocks forward carefully, huffing through his nose as he feels her open up molten hot. It is like dipping his dick into a furnace and if he’d been a younger man, he thinks the experience would terrify him. Like he is about to loose his cock to the beguiling little snatch of a lady that had been gracious enough to open up for him.

Now, he wants more. Deeper. Wants to stay and nestle in them.

“Just as tight,” he purrs, leaning over her. Brigitte’s mouth is open wide, panting, staring up at him with glassy eyes, though a spark of fire in them has him captivated. She grabs at his hips, blunt fingernails digging in, pulling him closer into that delicious trap she has spread for him. Around him.

“Deeper, Uncle,” she demands and he groans, following suit, watching her head fall back at the immense stretch, her throat bulging and flushing dark as she groans guttural and heart felt.

“Just as pretty as your mother,” he croons, “Just as good in taking my cock… Pretty little cunt opening up so wide. So hungry for it. Are you going to come on my cock like she loves to do, little Goddess? Going to squirt for me, hmmm?”

His big hand cups the top of her head, lovingly rubbing a thumb across her forehead as he begins pumping his hips experimentally. He nearly goes cross-eyed at the tight, slick slide; the feel of her spongy soft insides squeezing down on him.

“Just like mommy?”

Brigitte digs her fingernails into his skin and whimpers.

Hanzo is simultaneously the worst and best fuck Jesse has ever had. For a sniper that is used to sitting quietly for hours on end, he bounces like a rabbit with his hind legs caught when he’s getting stuffed with cock.

He doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself: he tugs at his hair and rips at the sheets, then grabs roughly at Jesse’s hip and bicep, and makes as if to crawl away from the insistent pressure of getting fucked.

“Easy,” Jesse grunts, frowning in concentration as he tries to hold Hanzo’s hips down so he can get to work. His tongue is searching and finding the right corner of his mouth again and again, looking for a cigar that is still gleaming in an ashtray on the bedside table.

Hanzo, though, is not easily tamed; he is a wall of muscle, and there is little Jesse can do when there’s sweat pearling on his forehead as he tries to think through the pleasure of Hanzo squeezing down mercilessly on his dick.

Hanzo makes a choked sound, head back, showing off the strong, trembling curve of his throat. He is still watching Jesse, his eyes gleaming wet with tears of overstimulation.

Jesse’s never had a partner that was as easy as Hanzo is; he barely worked his cock in before the archer had started whining for it, wide chest heaving and dick jerking against Jesse’s hirsute belly.

“Fuck,” Hanzo hisses explosively, then bites his lip, body taut and trembling as he tries to keep himself a bit more contained; but then Jesse moves again, grinding forward, and he moves again, slapping his hands – painfully – against Jesse’s chest, fingers gripping into the thick hair there as he comes sudden and hard on Jesse’s cock.

He’s barely fucked him for more than 15 minutes, and he is dazed, watching as Hanzo pulls his knees up, body practically curling in on itself as he rides his quick, nervous orgasm out.

Afterwards, he is more relaxed, an almost dopey grin on his face as he purrs and undulates his body, fingers still in Jesse’s chest hair, but more petting than tugging now.

“More.”

Jesse huffs.

Holy shit Hanzo and McCree playing “husband and friend rape the wife” is one of the hottest things I’ve ever heard holy fucking shit. Mccree just like “why don’t you be a good lil wife and show our guest some hospitality” and forces hanzo onto his knees hnnnnn. How do you feel about Hanzo’s cock being referred to as a clit, ass is pussy, etc?

“Why don’t you come in here, babydoll? I brought a guest.”

There’s a bit of a clatter from the small kitchenette around the corner, and then Hanzo walks in. There is a hitch in his step when all three men stare at each other, the tension thick and buzzing in the air before Hanzo lowers his gaze to the ground and comes to a proper halt, thick fingers slowly curling around the hem of his scandalously short skirt while his face flushes hot red within seconds.

He looks so mortified; like they hadn’t negotiated everything beforehand. Like he really had thought Jesse wouldn’t come back with Genji; let Hanzo’s brother see him with his hair up in a pretty bun and his eyes delicately painted to make them look even sharper than usual; wearing a dress that is way too small for him and has his pecs spill out of it obscenely.

“H-Hello,” he breathes towards the floor, awkwardly bringing one arm up to tug at the frilly hem of the maid’s uniform, trying to tug it further up over his meaty chest.

“Damn, McCree,” Genji says after another beat of silence, voice strangled sounding. “Where’d you buy that one? She’s too pretty for you.”

Hanzo chokes and glances up, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open a bit as he stares directly at his younger brother. McCree looks torn next to him, face glistening with sweat and a nervous tick in the corner of his mouth. He looks like he wants to preen just as much as he wants to walk towards Hanzo and assure him that everything is gonna be alright.

When Genji jams his elbow into his side, it seems to kickstart him, though.

“She’s pretty alright,” he drawls, and Hanzo suddenly murmurs: “I should have… I should change. This is not appropriate.”

He tugs at the uniform again, trying in vain to cover himself up; get his tits under control; but the more he tugs the little dress up, the more he uncovers of his thighs, and, finally, the tip of his cock. He’s not wearing any underwear.

“You don’t need to change for my sake, Missus McCree,” Genji leers, the brotherly teasing tone making Hanzo look like he’s about to die on the spot. He shifts his weight, unwittingly guiding their hungry gazes towards his prosthetics; special ones with high heels that pronounce the thick muscles of his thighs; trembling nervous. “I quite like the view…”

“I knew you would,” Jesse preens, and plops down on a chair, waving his fingers in Hanzo’s direction. “Bring us some beer, babydoll. Genji here’s been gone for a long while, he needs some… entertainment.”

.o.

They have Hanzo across the table within the hour. He is scrambling against the plastic and struggling half-heartedly as their fingers slip beneath his little dress and pinch his ass and tits.

Jesse is at his prosthetics at the second kick – he knows how to get them off with just a few twists. He has an unlit cigar clamped between his teeth, grin sharp and predatory as he works while Hanzo whispers: “N-No.. Please not…”

“Don’t play, babydoll. I know ya like to fuck my friends. Don’t be shy now.”

Hanzo’s eyes are wet, smearing his make-up minimally as he stares at Genji like a rabbit before a snake: mesmerized to the point of stopping his vague struggles as he watches his little brother fumble with his pants. He does not need them with his sleek body armor but it helps the illusion.

When Hanzo hears the hiss of depressurization, his mouth waters immediately. Trained like a dog.

“Never teach your wife how to dress properly, McCree,” Genji laughs, his hand rough as it grabs a fist full of Hanzo’s chest, squeezing, then changing his grip so he can pinch Hanzo’s soft nipple until he cries out and scrabbles, his hands landing squarely on his husband’s chest. Jesse has stepped between Hanzo’s thighs, his large hand holding his hips still.

“Couldn’t teach her if I wanted,” Jesse drawls, fingers rough as he squeezes Hanzo’s thighs, then grabs his skirt and flips it up with an air of negligence that has Hanzo’s nipples grow hard in excitement. “Only wants to learn about cocks, the little slut. Thinks I dunno about her letting them deliverymen in when I’m out working hard.”

Hanzo flushes and squirms, slanting his eyes to the side, unable to look at anybody until he feels the tap of something big and warm and sticky at his cheek: Genji’s cock slapping at him, his brother’s face grinning at him from above; upside down as he waits.

Hanzo shakes his head, pursing his lips, fingers curled in at Jesse’s shirt as he struggles; but without half of his legs it is so much more difficult for him and so much more easier for McCree and Genji to pin him down.

A hand around his cock, gripping harshly has him open up quick enough. Genji has no mercy for him; he fucks in deep and smooth, one hand curled across Hanzo’s throat, feeling how it swells when he forces his dick past any resistance and keeps it warm in the tight clench there, blocking off Hanzo’s air until his vision is swimming and his body spasming, instinctively trying to get out of it.

McCree holds him down, thumbs stroking his hipbones; and when Genji pulls back, Hanzo coughs and gags, lips wet with spit and tears dribbling down his temples and into his hair.

“No… please,” he whispers breathlessly, his cock so hard he gets dizzy. When he looks down, there is a sticky line connecting the tip of his cock to his bellybutton.

They ignore him, and Genji guides his head back to fuck down his throat again while Jesse slaps his big, warm cock against the trembling insides of Hanzo’s thighs. He’s helpless between them. They are not mean but they take what they want regardless of his pathetic begging, and Hanzo shamefully comes even before Jesse presses in.

“Your wife is a slut, McCree,” Genji comments breathlessly and happy.

“Don’t I fuckin’ know it,” Jesse murmurs. He leans forward and kisses Hanzo’s goatee while Hanzo is gurgling around Genji’s cock and jerking through his orgasm.

But what about grumpy virgin!Gabe getting ganged up on by the recruits in the changing rooms, all of them helping to get him bent over and each wanting a turn at eating him out, fingering him, playing with his balls, groping his thighs, etc. Gabe’s just dragging his beanie down and hiding his face, trying not to breathe too loudly, eventually giving up and just ahegaoing all over the place.

McCree has instigated this whole thing – of course he has; but Shimada is playing just as enthusiastically, having taken off his mask to get his warm little mouth all over Gabriel’s ass.

He can’t believe the things they are doing to him. His knees are shivering, toes curling against the warm, damp floor of the showers when Shimada spreads his cheeks with both hands and gives his hole one long, delirious lick that has Gabriel jerking up, ears pounding with blood.

McCree’s broad hand between his shoulder blades presses him down firm but gentle.

“Easy, boss,” he drawls, and Gabriel clenches his eyes shut, presses one hand across his mouth to keep the pathetic whine down. When he thinks he has himself back under control he murmurs with a barely shaking voice: “You are depraved. Both of you.”

Shimada hums and dips farther down. Gabriel can feel his nose pressing in behind his balls, face snuggling close enough that he begins to nervously dance on the balls of his feet, thighs spreading, face feeling on fire as he clenches his eyes shut and hears Shimada take a deep breath, air puffing warm across his sac.

“You’re so shivery,” McCree drawls, his hand big and warm and gentle as it rubs down his back. “Almost think you’ve never done this before. You’re presenting your ass an awful lot for a nervous little virgin though.”

Gabriel bites his lips. He wants to say something, but he doesn’t know what. he’s not usually grasping for words but he’s also usually not getting his balls licked slow and reverent while another pair of hands spreads his ass again, baring his sensitive hole to McCree’s gaze.

“Ahh damn,” he sighs. It sounds like a prayer, and when Gabriel glances back over his shoulder he can just see him crouch down before he feels his face pressing between his cheeks, beard scratching and mouth pressing a suckling kiss right on the twitching muscle.

Gabriel wants his beanie from the pile of clothes on the other side of the room to hide his face in. He thinks about how his two proteges are crouching behind him – Genji more snuggled beneath him at this point, suckling at his foreskin and rolling his balls across his palm – and feels his chest spasm.

“Love your fat ass, boss” McCree groans against him. He sounds fucking delirious and Gabriel can’t believe the shit they’re doing to him.

“Ha… Ha… Hanzo,” Winston wheezes, jackknifing up and curling his arms around Hanzo’s middle when Hanzo, unimpressed, lets himself slide down a little further.

He presses his face between the archer’s shoulder blades, blunt fingers scratching lightly at his belly as he desperately tries to find purchase; something to hold on to while his cock is held unbearably snug in the grip of Hanzo’s body; furnace hot and silky inside.

“MMmmhhh,” Hanzo hums, the hands with which he is bracing himself on Winston’s thick thighs gripping hard; his only concession to the immense stretch. He arches his back, head tilting backwards until the end of his pony tail tickles Winston’s ear. “So big…”

Winston can feel himself flushing brick red. He squirms in place, arms tightening around Hanzo’s thick waist and unwittingly pulling him harder down onto his cock, making him cry out hoarse, muscles tightening all along Winston’s poor, unprepared cock.

“Stretching me so wide,” Hanzo murmurs, and Winston does not need to look to know he is staring at McCree; the other agent sitting on a chair in front of them, hands clasped between his spread knees; mouth a little open in reverence as he watches his fiance enjoy himself with another man.

Winston just about wants to die of embarrassment. He pulls back a bit, daring to let go with one large, shaking hand and trying to straighten his glasses – but Hanzo immediately utilizes his new freedom to move his hips; a slow, grinding rocking motion that makes Winston choke on his tongue, barrel chest expanding as he takes a massive breath.

Hanzo whines deep in his throat. His hole is slick and well-trained; gripping Winston and working him with internal muscles. He can feel it from the outside as well; Hanzo’s abdominal muscles clenching and relaxing beneath Winston’s sweaty hand.

“Y… You like that, babydoll?” McCree croaks, gaze feverish as Winston peers over Hanzo’s shoulder towards him. He looks like he is about to drool; tongue almost lolling out of his slack mouth, cheeks a ruddy red beneath his thick beard.

“He has such a nice cock,” Hanzo informs him slow and languid. He stops moving in favor of just feeling Winston inside him; reaching deep and spreading him unforgivably wide. “So big and warm… Love it so much…”

McCree nods along, eyes fixed on where Hanzo is being spread open wide, thighs splayed over Winston’s thick, hairy legs.

“Bet he can fill me up so well…” Hanzo continues, and Winston jerks when he feels his fingers on his sac, cupping and squeezing it as he stares straight into McCree’s flushed face. “He’s going to last me a while… Even if he fills me up now, he’ll be ready in no time. He’s got so much stored up in here…” He squeezes once more and Winston clenches his teeth, holding onto Hanzo’s sturdy hips with a bruising grip now, sweat prickling along his chest and arms and belly; everywhere dark hair dusts his skin.

“He’s not going to rabbit fuck me and leave me unsatisfied,” Hanzo purrs throatily and McCree groans at the not-so-veiled insult, hands moving, one of them gripping his knee, the other cupping his cock through his jeans.

“You big oafs have no idea how to use your cocks,” Hanzo says, but it does not sound like an insult; his voice is soft like he’s smiling, his insides rippling along Winston’s cock; and then he is moving again, slow and torturous and Winston goes nearly cross-eyed.

Tiny fill for the Reaper/Reinhardt that didn’t make it in the poll

Rape tw. Wish it was a bit longer but I’m swamped with work :’ ) ssssorry

Reaper has smelled him through the whole of the facility, and neither armed guards nor tightly closed doors can keep him from reaching his destination. He is smoke and he is determined.

He can hear the warning sirens go of, his handler trying to threaten him into compliance, but they’ve never dealt with him at his worst; never seen him go off after an Omega in heat.

The last few doors are left open, guards standing out of his way. They’ve resigned themselves to the inevitable truth that they won’t be able to stop what’s going to happen.

The Omega – his Omega – is huge, and Reaper gives a pause, watching as the creature presents for him; legs shaking and head hanging in defeat. Just as resigned as the rest of them. Knowing that the Alpha is his better and will take.

He recognizes him, of course. He’s worked alongside Reinhardt for years before everything imploded in on itself, and even though he is much older now, he still looks magnificent. Strong and sturdy. Ready to bear his young.

Reaper descends upon him like a bird of prey, armor vanishing in smoke, teeth clamped around the Omega’s shoulder even before he starts fucking; hips jerking, cock fat and without guidance as it slaps against the Omega’s warm, trembling thighs before finally, on accident, finding the target and sliding in, in, in.

Reinhardt howls and snarls, head thrown back, massive body bucking – but there is no way he can throw Reaper off. Not now that he has dug his claws into his prey and is fucking with thrusts that rattle through the Omega even with a body massive as his. Reinhardt has to brace himself against the wall with a hand the size of a shovel, and Reaper preens.

He can smell Reinhardt’s fertility and it is making him go crazy. He wants to breed him up; needs to breed him up; get his cum deep in his belly and fuck him until he knows he’s taken it.

The heat will ensure he is docile enough. He might be growling now, fighting it with weak bucks of his broad back, but this is just the beginning. He will accept him sooner rather than later; know that only he will be able to mount him and make him submit.

Short Stardew Valley smut with Shane/Male Farmer

He’s been better about his hygiene since the farmer stepped into his life; still, there are plenty of days where the medication doesn’t completely work or Shane forgot to took them, and his mood plummets and he can’t bring himself to even shower.

On his wedding day, however, he appeared impeccably clean, and the farmer is equal parts delighted and amused. He himself has worked on the farm before attending the ceremony, of course. The animals need to be taken care of, just as the crops do – he needs the money, after all. They need it.

Shane does not seem to mind that he smells. He still presses his face into the crook of his new husband’s neck and bites at his shoulder, fingernails scratching his back.

They’ve never lived far apart, but they’ve been busy all in their own way; there hasn’t been much time to indulge, and the farmer can feel it now: Shane almost painfully tight, knees trembling at his sides as the farmer works himself in with patience but also a good bit of determination.

When he finally has him far enough to properly fuck, the bed is creaking gently; a constant noise in the background as Shane grunts and bites harder. Scratches more.

There’s a deep desperation in his movements; something subtly frantic as he tries artlessly to fuck up into the farmer’s motions. He’s never had a boyfriend before the newcomer, and he is delightfully sensitive for it; so unused to getting his rim stretched wide, guts filled with cock.

The farmer lets him tucker himself out, a small smirk on his lips as he watches Shane’s usually pale cheeks gain color, the permanent stubble darker at the end of the day.

He’ll get him to scream today, he thinks. Here on his farm, nobody is there to hear them. There’s nothing to be ashamed of; no frantic little jerk-off sessions in a room next to his aunt.

The farmer wonders sometimes how Shane could be so embarrassed about everything sexual when his aunt is so sleazy; letting the mayor into her room as often as they can get away with.

He’ll teach him. There’s nothing to be afraid off here.

cyberrat:

aight I’ll just have to write stuck in the wall Gabe tomorrow because there are MISCONCEPTIONS about how much of a GOOD NEEDY BOTTOM BOI he is and I am SHOOK

There’s a tall man standing at the far corner of the establishment, occupying Gabriel. His skin is a dark brown, muscles thick and round underneath, rippling with every slow thrust.

He seems to be in no hurry whatsoever, either ignoring the glances of the other men in the room, or enjoying them supremely. He does not turn around, but stares down at where his cock is stretching Gabriel, pulling at his rim whenever he drags his hips slowly back.

It’s quiet in the corner now, but it had not started that way. He, like everybody else, had to assert his dominance before the headstrong squirming and the muffled curses from the other side had ceased, Gabriel standing still like a well-trained pony for his fucking.

When the man comes, his head falls back, body clenching and stilling. He does not make a sound, but he does breathe out long and hard when he’s done; body going lax and sated.

He reaches to the side towards a sharpie dangling from a cord, and, still plugging his cum deep inside Gabriel’s guts with the girth of his cock, starts scrawling on the sign above the hole: Marlon was here.

He rolls his head along his shoulders once, then carefully pulls back. It’s quiet enough in the room that the sound of the wet, thick squelch of his cock pulling out is audible.

He pats Gabriel’s trembling flank once, not unkindly – good job, pony – then steps back, impressive cock swinging between his legs, wet and still chubby.

He bumps into someone that’s standing behind him, the figure having moved so slowly he had not heard him approach. It takes his brain a few seconds to catch up with what he’s seeing: a gargantuan of a man standing motionlessly before him, his huge gut slowly moving with his deep, audible breaths.

Marlon’s eyebrows shoot up, he almost flinches when the guy raises one meaty arm and points with a thick, ringed finger wordlessly towards the hole he just vacated.

He grunts.

Marlon lifts his hands towards his shoulders, quickly stepping to the side. “All yours!”

Even a big guy like him knows when to not start and pick a fight. He steps to the side and finds himself relegated to just the same, baffled and kind of worshipful spectator as the other men around him as they all watch the man step up to Gabriel’s hole.

.o.

Gabriel feels antsy. His cock is heavy and painful between his thighs. He’d almost come on his last patron’s cock, had only needed a couple more thrusts – just a bit more loving to his prostate – but it had been over and the man had moved away before he’d been able to gather his wits and demand more.

He’s still chewing on the ball of his thumb, feeling a bit weepy with that deep-seated need in his guts, when a new pair of hands settles on his hips, startling him into uselessly looking back.

Of course he would not be able to see, which makes the experience all the more humbling and surreal. The hands that had settled on him were shovel sized and hot as a furnace.

Thick, blunt fingers dragged through the sweat at the small of his back, thumbs on either cheek pulling him open with cocksure bravado – and while usually he liked to start bucking like a horse (and maybe give a kick if they were being rude), he couldn’t bring himself to do anything more than lift up into it; back arching, ass pushing up. Showing off his well-used hole. He could feel the cold air on the wet rim; could feel some cum bubbling out as he bears down, helpless to show off.

His reward is one of the huge fingers, circling his pouty rim and smearing through the mess left behind by a couple other guys before him.

Gabriel wants to squirm, but something in the way the man touches him makes him sit up and take notice. Makes him want to be attentive and good, even though he’s still tingly and needy inside, balls feeling swollen to roughly double their size even though he knows that’s not true.

The finger leaves for a moment and then a curious sensation fills him: warm, heavy weight settling on the small of his back and top of his ass. Hot and heavy enough that he feels smothered, his overworked brain making him believe for a second that someone sat down on him, before he realizes what’s happening: it’s a belly. The customer has shuffled closer, resting his large gut on Gabriel, and letting him feel his cock a second later: slapping heavy and blunt against his hole, testing how it opens laughably easy for him.

Gabriel is pressing his hands to his mouth, eyes wide open, staring in front of him as he can’t help but move with the guy behind him. He bends his knees a bit, feet shuffling farther apart, helpfully angling himself to make it easier on the big man, and when he feels the gentle tap at his thigh a second before he pushes in slowly, he almost flies apart in eagerness; wanting so badly to be a good boy for this behemoth of a man.

His cock is just as fat as the rest of him, spreading Gabriel’s used hole wide open until tears are springing to his eyes. He’s sucking at his own fingers, mindless and needy as he gets filled slowly, slowly, his insides expanding to make room for the new customer, eyes rolling up in his head when the thick tip presses harshly into his prostate.

When the man starts fucking him, he fumbles for his toy chest beneath the bench, trembling fingers closing around the first fake cock he can find, just to give his mouth something to do: chewing and sucking on it, content yet keyed up as he gets filled to his absolute maximum.

.o.

All eyes are on the broad back of the fat man as he fucks Gabriel, wordless astonishment palpable at how easy Gabriel had basically rolled over and spread his legs; not a single jerk of ill-tempered disposition as he let himself get used, the sound of their fucking wet and nasty as the new patron’s cock drags squelching through the mess of lube and cum from before.

Gabriel comes sometime during his fuck: a muffled grunt sounding behind the wall before he becomes quiet again, his cock jerking out thick ropes of cum against the wall and onto the floor between his feet.

When the man finally steps back and pulls up his pants, he leaves Gabriel wrecked: knees so weak he seems to hang limp and fucked-out in his hole, feet sliding uselessly against the floor as he tries to get them back under himself, hole soft and destroyed; gaping and showing off deep-red insides and sticky trails of cum.

Sometime in between, the patron must have written on the sign, though nobody could have said when it happened.

A very good boy. -M.R.