got inspired by the thicc McCree pic I just reblogged x3

It has been D.Va’s idea to let Jesse fuck her in her pretty little girl bed, but he has been more than amiable to the suggestion. He liked the smell of her room and the bright colors. He liked her soft bed sheets when he got to plant his ass on them as she kneeled between his legs and worshiped his cock.

She, on the other hand, liked watching him in the mirror above her bed; peeking just above his shoulder, staring with glassy eyes at the broad man, his hairy ass pumping slowly as he fucked her; deep dicked her with his fat cock that made her see stars and had her knees shaking, spread wide around his sturdy hips as they were.

McCree fucked leisurely; there was no rush, his hips moving in an almost mechanical rhythm: driving in deep until the blunt tip was just shy of kissing up to her womb, then slipping back out, slow, smooth, letting her feel the spread of her cunt straining around the sheer girth.

He fucked so deep it made her tear up, sharp, painted fingernails digging into his meaty shoulders, body primed whenever he pushed in once more, just shy of nudging where it would hurt.

“Damn,” he rumbled, voice deep; she could see the muscles in his back working as he pushed up and out of her clutching fingers. “Got some mean little nails on you.”

And still he kept moving, driving in deep, grinding after his cock and rubbing the coarse bush of his pubes against her swollen, pulsing clit – making her toes curl into the bedding and her anus clench with the sparks of pleasure that pulled her muscles tight and sent waves of warmth through her.

He grins down at her, a roguish slash of teeth, and he looks like he wants nothing more than have a cigar clamped between them; smoke while he’s fucking her, making her pussy spread on his fat cock and watch her slowly lose it as her eyes well up with tears and her ‘mean little nails’ stop attacking his shoulders and instead pinch her own nipples until they’re swollen and inflamed looking.

Her gaze twitches up again, watching his big hirsute body working her on her pink little bed.

Jesse hums thoughtfully, following her look, and grinning up at their reflection. “You’re enjoying the show, hm? If you wanna, I can take a picture of you later. So you’ll have something to remember me by when I’m off on a mission. Just gotta pull out your phone and watch how your cunt was gaping after I was done with ya.

But you’ll not forget my cock that soon, hm? No… No you’ll not forget it any time soon.”

He watches her reflection in the mirror as he grabs her beneath the knees and pulls her into his lap, her abdomen curling up, helpless and speared on his cock, cunt pulsing around him, weakly clenching down on the fat girth.

D.Va just whines and nods arms stretched out, clutching at his strong forearms while he keeps fucking her; just nudging softly now that he’s sitting on his heels, driving in until she feels like she’s going to give birth to his goddamn dick, her belly feeling stupidly tender and swollen.

“Good girl.”

D.Va/McCree

“Don’t be shy now. Let me see your sweet little peach. That’s it… that’s the ticket… swing your leg over here and we can get a start on this…”

McCree’s big hand gently curves around D.Va’s knee and helps her lift her leg and straddle him. She grunts softly, the stretch opening her up for his perusal – Jesse’s chest simply too wide for any modesty.

She freezes with her mouth centimeters from his dick, hand curled around the base, feeling how warm it was there – the pubes thick and unkempt and everything smelling mouth wateringly male.

D.Va glances back but she can’t much see past her thigh without twisting around much. She doesn’t need to see his face to know what he is thinking, though. McCree is considerate that way: he makes no secret out of his admiration, rumbling low and content as his huge hands – one warm, one warming up – cup her meager ass and pull it even farther apart, watching her clench down in reacting to the cold and the embarrassing stare.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. One hand leaves her. She hears him slurp messily and her cunt pulses in sympathy; growing warm and eager even before his spit wet fingers touch her anus and round it once, twice, just to feel the soft, wrinkled skin, then gliding down to spread the plump, furry lips of her cunt, scrutinizing the candy pink insides.

“That’s goddamn gorgeous,” she can hear him mumble indistinct. D.Va groans, upper body angling down, her small hard tits pressing against McCree’s soft abdomen as she lies her head down on his pelvis, nose buried in the thick nest of his pubes. She’s barely realizing she is cupping his cock against her cheek, feeling the lazily pulsing veins; how soft and delicate the skin is there.

It is hard to focus on anything when McCree is exploring her, sliding down and rounding her clit, tapping against it once or twice and muttering to himself before sliding back up and dipping the wide tip of a blunt finger into her; feeling how hot she is for him inside. How silky and slick already.

She hunches her hips down, tries to get more of him, entice him to fuck into that sweet little space she offers him up, but he just hums and shifts minimally, getting more comfortable on the bed as his thumbs spread her labia open, the gaze of his warm brown eyes heavy as he just watches her again. He seems to enjoy that a lot.

It is only then that she remembers to take care of him, too; her mouth generously wet as she finally starts kissing and nuzzling, servicing him with her whole goddamn face because she can’t decide what she loves more – to feel the fat, ruddy cock rub against her soft cheeks or to taste it on her tongue, sharp and salty.

“Damn, sweetheart,” he sighs behind her, his strong legs shifting apart, wide hips lifting exactly once to dip the very tip into her wet mouth, then settling down to let her ‘do her thing’ as he murmurs. It sounds a little more indistinct; like he’s put one of his cigars in his mouth, and the thought makes her inexplicably hotter: Jesse lying back and smoking lazily while fondling her, his big fingers sliding in, stretching her wide, only giving her a small taste of what it would be like to finally get his cock that is pulsing slow in her clutching, strangling hands.

She tongues at his foreskin, dips beneath it to taste that warm, silky space between it and the blunt, dark glans; her eyes going out of focus the longer she plays with him. She feels nearly trance like… like a kitten allowed to play with the big, lazy lion, and she loves every second of it.

He hums low and continuous, as if he knows how much she loves his voice; to feel it thrum up the knees clenched around his wide ribcage and shivering up towards her exposed cunt. Maybe he does know. Maybe he’s had his fair share of girls and boys in bed that go slack jawed when he talks, whose cunts and cocks pulse needily just for that low, warm baritone alone.

D.Va feels strangely excited at that thought. At being one in a long string of exploits. She think she can do whatever she want; can drool all over his dick eager and greedy and still not put out at the end of the day, and he will just accept it. Just shrug his shoulders and jerk off slow and lazy, knowing there’ll be another to take care of it on another day.

There’s no rush in anything McCree does. He is calm in a way that is stupidly attractive to her. He is calm like Zenyatta – but in a different way.

She is kissing the wet, sticky tip when he finally slides one broad finger in; and she is suckling on the glans – her mouth already filled so well – when he slips in the second one, hooking and pressing down while the ball of his metal hand cups her soft belly and presses up just above her pubic bone-

and D.Va groans sudden and loud, the sound exploding out of her just as unexpected as the warm blooming in her abdomen and spreading through her legs, getting everything loose and warm until she can’t tell if she’s even kneeling anymore or just slipped down warm and content.

McCree just laughs at her, his fingers moving slow, sliding back, then forth, pushing against her warm, spongy walls, then slipping into the same position that makes her whine this time, high – an almost squeak – as she reflexively clutches his cock with both fists, one above the other, holding on and squeezing until one of his heels kicks against the bedding and he talks, strained sounding as if he has thrown his head back.

“Easy now, sweetheart. Easy now. You like that, yeah? Why don’t you take a break and let me work. Jus’ let me show you a good time. Such a sweet little cunt. Such a tasty little peach you got…”

He’s murmuring the last things, as if talking to himself, his fingers moving, pressing against that sensitive spot that makes her eyes water. She doesn’t let go of his cock – can’t make herself not touch it; it’s big and fat and she loves his dick – but she does make herself go a little easier on it, thumbs rubbing shakily along a thick vein as she presses her forehead against his hipbone and just feels-

Feels how he shifts his metal hand until his fingers are pressing against her pudgy lower belly to stimulate her from the outside as his smooth skin warm thumb comes down to just lay atop her swollen clit.

She wonders why it took her so long to approach him. She could have had this earlier. She could have had this way earlier. This slow, systematic break down as he works her, mumbling to himself about how pretty she looks; how red and swollen everything starts looking as he works her over and makes her shake and whine.

“Think you can come for me like that?” he mumbles, the sound of his fingers fucking her cunt loud and obscene; it is positively squelching – her body so generous to get everything wet and smooth just for him while she feels like she is going out of her mind with heat; her belly tight and twisted, her nipples hard and sensitive. She is shaking, mouth open, drooling against the base of his dick that she is messily kissing out of animal reaction to the way he makes her feel good.

“Yeah you do,” he answers his own question, gently smug as he slides back in, fast and hard, fucking her in quick jabs that barely grace that good sweet perfect spot inside her and make her curl her toes in dismay because she wants that, she needs that, she… she needs… just a little more…

“Just… like… this.”

D.Va pulls in a sharp breath when he presses down on that needy, pulsing spot and her body locks, eyes pulsating behind her clenched eyelids. She loses the last control she has over her own body. She can feel herself jerk, get oversensitive within a split second, trying to get away from McCree’s merciless fingers rubbing sharp little circles across her fat, swollen clit.

She is grunting low like an animal. She didn’t know she could even make sounds like that, her face heating, her ears throbbing with her heart beat as McCree holds her steady and keeps rubbing at her, until she can hear his low groan like an explosion, his almost frantic: “Fuck yeah, that’s it, that’s the ticked Hana, yeah damn” At the same time she can feel herself lose it even more, can feel herself squirting once, a sharp spray that she couldn’t even have hoped to stop, her body operating outside her will; showing McCree submission every way it wants.

Every way he wants.

It is only then that he finally lets her scramble away, her legs hot and shaking, her pulse racing. She can’t even feel it in her to be horrified at the wetness on his hairy chest; how it reaches up towards his thick neck and the scruffy beard.

He looks drunk, watching her intently, his big cock swaying in the cool air of the room, flexing towards his belly as she watches it move with fucked-dumb eyes.

He reaches down and curls his fist around himself; tugs once, twice; everything is so quiet as they stare at each other in the aftermath of what her body did – and then she is scrambling forward between his legs, slapping his hands away and diving for his cock, so eager, so desperate to give back what he gave her, face still hot with embarrassment but slowly going back to normal.

She could have had this months ago.

ikkanoodles:

my part of a lil trade with @cyberrat they know whats up they knoW

me humble part of The Forbidden PeePee™ trade. I love Ikku’s pics so much ffffff

Jesse plants his hand on the back of Gabriel’s head to hold him down but before Gabriel can bare his teeth and growl in warning, the other Alpha hesitates, then quickly pulls it back again. He’s sweaty and hot behind him, cock nestled between Gabriel’s cheeks; and he sounds worked up enough as if he’d already fucked for hours instead of just nervously trying to find where he could and couldn’t put his hands.

He’s like a grabby little pup as he slowly, carefully feels Gabriel up, and Gabriel grunts and cushions his head on his arms; lets him go at it as long as he doesn’t try to be the ‘Head-Alpha’ again or whatever shit they called their boss in Deadlock.

His past seems so long gone; Jesse doesn’t even look the part anymore. He filled out something nice. Maybe a little too much even around the middle – his hairy belly softer than one would think with all the training he goes through, but Gabriel secretly really likes it. It is nice to feel him up when he wrestles him down and ruts against his ass – and now it is nice to feel press into the small of his back when McCree leans down and presses a strange, wet little suckling kiss against his shoulder blade.

It feels intimate enough to make Gabriel grunt and lift his head, glancing at Jesse over the swell of his shoulder. Jesse pulls back, mumbling something that probably is supposed to be an apology, but his face looks a little feverish above his scruffy beard, his eyes glassy.

He looks already really into all of this even though he’s not gotten his dick into Gabriel.

Gabriel feels strangely pleased at it.

“C’mon. Don’t got all day, kid. Got a few reports waiting for me.”

“Y…Yes, Sir,” he mumbles, huge hands first cupping Gabriel’s trim waist, then sliding farther down – mapping the swell of his hips to their widest point, blunt thumbs pressing into the tops of his ass; mapping out the grooves there, then sliding down and spreading his cheeks.

Gabriel hears McCree make a sound like a wounded animal, high and punched out and he knows he’s watching his own dick nestled between his commander’s asscheeks.

Gabriel smirks secretly and puts his head back down on his arms, waiting for Jesse to finally get on with it.

.o.

There’s no mistaking it when McCree finally ‘gets on with it’. There is no mistaking that.

Gabriel’s mouth falls open, tongue lolling out with another humping, fast thrust. McCree isn’t even properly pulling out – just fucks Gabriel on a couple inches of his dick, making his rim spread around the widest part just above his knot again and again until tears shoot into his eyes.

Gabriel bites his forearm, tamping down on the low grunts McCree fucks out of him – but he can’t help how he’s lifting his ass into it, braced on the balls of his feet, knees not even touching the ground anymore… and that Jesse has noticed that he can’t ignore. Those big hands have shifted, moved to the backs of his thighs, feeling up the rock hard muscle there as he keeps his hips up in the air. McCree whines like a pup. Every now and then it’s like he can’t help himself, body curling forward, his wet mouth wiping messy kisses against Gabriel’s skin, punctuating the suckling with pathetic mewls that go right through Gabriel’s belly and wrap around his dick.

He can’t believe how hot McCree has got him with his goddamn stupid puppy humping. He can’t believe McCree is even fucking like that still; looking like a goddamn brick house and still to the partner he’s mounting and barely letting Gabriel breathe while he got his meaty arms around his belly and chest, getting a frantic little grope of Gabriel’s pecs in as his hips piston. He feels surrounded by McCree. Like he can taste him on the air with his lolling tongue. Like he can taste his dick in the back of his throat because McCree got a juicy cock and he’s never even looked at it before.

“You… you likin’ it, boss?” He mumbles it right against Gabriel’s ear. He must be able to feel the heat radiating off of Gabriel’s blush. He doesn’t want to answer; maybe just growl and elbow him in the side, but instead he groans low and shifts his head in a way that could be interpreted as a nod – and Jesse sucks in air sharply, whispers “Shit yeah…” and suckles on the tip of Gabriel’s ear until he can manage to roll his shoulders and jostle him off because that’s… that’s… it’s just too much….

But of course Jesse would find ways to make him see his… erroneous ways.

.o.

Gabriel is not sure he even realized when Jesse came. He’s not sure Jesse even realized it. But there’s a goddamn mess dripping down to the floor and Jesse sounds like he’s about to keel over while he keeps rutting through it, frothing the loads he already deposited up and making the mess squelch loud and obscene enough for Gabriel to almost try and hide his face in his arms.

“No… no style,” he grits out between his teeth, but he can’t do anything about it; he just has to stay right where he is, getting fucked… bred… goddamn fucking bred by another Alpha, his body feeling hot and feverish like a wound, cock hanging between his thighs, belly feeling filled with McCree’s creamy loads even though he knows it’s not possible; not with the amount that has dripped to the floor, but he still feels like…

“Fuck… Gonna… B-Boss…” Jesse jackknifes again, his meaty arms hooked around Gabriel’s belly, holding him secure – not letting him go even when Gabriel’s foggy, fuck-dumb brain realizes what is going to happen. Not that he… not that he wants to go, but… fuck… fuck it is happening; McCree is rutting in deep, letting him feel all of him from the leaking tip that seems so intent of fucking right through Gabriel’s belly button, to the tender little swell of his knot; that swell that quickly stops being small and tender and expands, fattening up, spreading against Gabriel’s walls right behind his rim until his whole body locks against the sensation, muscles tense, mouth hanging open, saliva dripping from the tip of his tongue…

He’s never been… he’s never felt… this…

Dimly, he can hear Jesse’s whining; can even hear the wet smacking of his little loving kisses – because the kid wouldn’t dare bite his Commander, his superior Alpha even when being crosseyed from knotting – and feel the heat crashing in waves through his body; from the tips of his toes up to the back of his neck.

His body is a trembling, locked mess and all he can do is follow McCree along, his eyes rolling up when he hears the splattering of his own release, endorphins rushing through his body, thighs shaking, biceps going loose and pathetic, elbows sliding apart until his cheek is pressed to the floor, shoulders angled down – presenting almost better than any Omega…

And then the smell hits him. The acrid scent of urine that is like a shock to the system, the heavy come loose body atop him jerking as well – both of them realizing in tandem that Gabriel’s release had not quite been what his overworked brain was thinking – that rather than coming like a freight train he was pissing, the puddle widening rapidly, warming up the knees that have slid down to the ground somewhere in between McCree knotting and him letting loose…

“Damn,” McCree whines, his sturdy hips stuttering, jerking forward and trying to pull back; and just managing to jostle his knot and fuck another spurt of piss from his Commander.

“S-Stay still,” Gabriel croaks, hot faced, not even able to stop his submissive wetting because it feels too good; his body is working against him and there is no way he can stop himself; there is no way when he’s stuffed with McCree’s fat, girthy knot and all he wants to do is show the Alpha how he is submitting to him; how he accepts his dominance and the good, deep breeding that came with it, even though McCree fucked like a damned pup.

Or maybe because of it? Because he was so flattered by Jesse’s mindless, needy rutting?

“Stay, stay, stay,” Jesse suddenly mutters. He must have felt the useless fluttering of muscles beneath him and counters it immediately by wrapping around his Commander more insistently; suckling kisses against his spine. He sounds fucking drunk on knotting that tight, warm space and the sharp smell of his piss.

“Stay just like that. Please,” he whimpers – and Gabriel growls, pathetic and weak, but does as he is told, pressing his hot embarrassed cheeks into the crook of his arm.

“You owe me an orgasm, McCree,” he grunts, another dribble of piss coming from him when McCree immediately nods against the dip of his spine; so eager to please his commanding Alpha.

Hi Cyber – soooo I was thinking today about Dva and how she sometimes watches tv and can’t really focus unless Soldier is hunkered up underneath her little skirt, licking her and licking her. She ignores him completely but every so often she’ll shiver or squeak and maybe even have a little baby orgasm. But she won’t let him stop licking her until her episode is done. Maybe she’ll even watch two or three in a row.

“Hey, you!”

Her sharp command gets softened with a sweet little smile and her pink painted nail curling coyly to beckon him closer. “C’mere big boy. I got work for you.”

Jack watches her carefully over the rim of his thin, silver rimmed glasses. For a second his pale eyes flinch away and back towards his rifle lying across her desk – adorned with bunny stickers and pictures of her, Lúcio and Zenyatta – then back to her.

He flexes his big, oil-stained hands slowly. She can feel her belly grow tight just watching them; square and rough with big, blunt fingers that she’s ridden more often than she probably has put her own fingers up her cunt.

When he looks back at her, she smirks and wriggles her small, naked toes as she extends one leg and nudges his knee. She isn’t wearing anything beneath her airy, white skirt and his pale eyes immediately zero in on the dark patch of hair between her thighs; already glinting with slick.

His nostrils flare as he inhales sharply and then stands up with a jerk.

Before he can get to work, however, he has to clean his hands.

.o.

Just half a year ago, this would have been a fight. He probably would have sat on the floor, licking her for five minutes before those big, warm hands would have begun to wander without permission; square fingertips trying to tickle her asshole or slip into the humid gash of her cunt.

As it is now, he has been well trained.

Hana lies bonelessly in her armchair, naked legs thrown across his broad shoulders, fingers absentmindedly playing with his short, white hair as he worked underneath her skirt.

Sometimes, his nose would bump against the fat swell of her clit, and she would grunt, electricity flaring for a bright, addicting moment, coursing down towards her toes and then spreading in a warm, sensual arousal.

Most of the time his motions were slow and unhurried and monotonous. His tongue dragged through her cunt slow and unerringly like a wave, beard rough chin nudging against her clenching opening, getting the tender edges almost painfully sensitive.

The monotony made the times he varied the motions even more exciting; curling his tongue beneath her fat clit, cradling it against the silky surface to give it a special flick; a well placed hard suck that made her see stars and had her pause her show for a moment, tits feeling painfully tight and sensitive atop her chest.

A cheeky tongue delving deeper, rounding the tight clench of her anus and dragging across the flinching center until she had to pull him back up again…

He could keep it up for an admirably long time; leaning away to take a swig of water when he heard the beginning melody of the next episode, his lips bright red and swollen, just like her labia – his eyes still fixed on her candy red center, tongue almost lolling out of his head when she reaches down and spreads her swollen labia for his viewing pleasure; lets him watch as she dips one small finger into her tender opening to fuck herself and show him what he could not have.

Maybe she would ride his fingers later; or get on all fours and grind back against his face while he fucked his fleshlight.

Maybe she would go and visit one of her other toys, however. Take him with her and let him watch as another got to sample all the built up tension that he put into her, servicing her cunt diligently for an hour.

Yeah… maybe she’d do that.

i feel like this is kind of an old trope but the image of jesse answering a call while gabe sucks him off is really really good shit, hes just so chill and talks like he aint getting his knob slobbed. maybe he has to go get a file from a shelf and just stands right up, dick hanging out as he walks across his office leaving gabes mouth hanging open under his desk. he sits back down and is just totally cool, one hand flipping through paperwork while the other guides gabes mouth back onto his dick

shiiiiieeeeettttt

yeeeessss

“Reyes and Morrison Security. What can I do for you?”

Jesse could speak formally if he wanted to – no slurring and dragging of vowels when he answered the phone, and that’s why Reyes got him as his secretary in the first place. The kid knew when to stop fucking around and get to work.

Or he knew when to fuck around while getting to work.

Gabriel wants to pull back when he hears the muffled greeting but the kid’s hand is on top of his shaved head just a second later, holding him right in place with the gratifyingly fat tip of his dick resting on Gabriel’s tongue.

He hesitates for a moment, but Jesse pushes down insistently with the impatience of youth and Gabriel follows because deep down he is weak.

Because he is sitting beneath his secretary’s desk in nothing but the pretty lingerie he put on earlier this morning, his clothes neatly folded at his knees.

People could see him if they looked for it. There was wood all around him but he was still visible beneath the partition – the stocking bottoms of his feet and the curve of his naked ass because it wasn’t exciting enough to wear long stockings and garters, but he also needed to be freeballing it.

He was a fool.

“No, Mister Reyes is not at his desk at the moment,” Jesse said. His voice didn’t even waver. It was as deep and calm as ever. Nothing seemed to goddamned faze the kid – not getting screamed at by Reyes, not getting send onto a last minute errand just minutes before they closed for the day… and not getting his dick sucked by his boss while answering the phone, apparently.

Kid was unflappable.

Reyes had to admit he respected that.

He closed his eyes, cheeks burning as Jesse repeated the sentence with a little more steel behind his voice. He slipped farther down, throat opening easily to gag himself on McCree’s dick. The sounds were soft and wet and not nearly enough to reach through the thick wood and to the phone – but enough to make Jesse pat his head in appreciation.

“…yes, I understand. If you will give me a moment, I will get your file and we can sort the problem out.”

There isn’t even a moment of hesitation or uncertainty. He simply rolls back, pulling his dick from his boss’s mouth and stands up, dick glistening wet and bobbing awkwardly – eye catching – in the air of the office as he turns and retrieves the file.

Gabriel hunkers beneath the desk and just watches, cheeks burning, cock throbbing between his legs, sliding against the tops of his stockings. He doesn’t have enough time to really come down from the cock sucking high he slipped into. To think about his life choices that led to him in his secret lingerie beneath his secretary’s desk, sucking his dick like his life depended on it.

McCree is back in a moment and rolling his chair back into position.

“I am back. Sorry to make you wait.” It’s all so smooth and practiced – one hand opening the file, the other directing his wet cock back into Gabriel’s warm mouth; no hitch in his breathing, no stutter in his words as Gabriel closes his eyes and goes back to gagging himself on his fat cock.

He goes about his business as if his boss wasn’t there beneath his desk, and that is even hotter than anything else.

Drunk McCree and sober Hanzo getting it on; Hanzo loves McCree’s dick any which way. McCree is all on board for the worship.

“Don’t think I’ll be up to snuff for any playin’ tonight, babydoll,” Jesse murmurs. It is barely coherent, his lips move but the sounds that come out seem to lack behind the intended meaning of the words.

He stinks of cheap whiskey and wine. When Hanzo pushes him to fall onto the bed whatever patch of skin that can be seen above his wild, tangled beard becomes worryingly green before he takes deep breaths and relaxes again.

“That wasn’t very nice of you,” he slurs, feet weekly kicking at Hanzo as he crawls onto the bed. “Why’re you so mean to me, baby?”

“Because you’re too slow.”

“Whassat now?” McCree tries to glance down at him but the effort – or motion – seems not to sit well with him so he starts patting downwards, huge paw of a hand missing several times before it lands heavily on Hanzo’s head and holds on to the tight knot of hair he finds there.

Hanzo grunts and shakes his head once but Jesse is not being dissuaded and he doesn’t care enough to make him let go.

What he cares about is working apart the fly of McCree’s jeans and reach in so he can fish around the warm, humid confines of his boxershorts for the prize he’s been lusting after all afternoon – prowling through base in search for the man that unfortunately was attached to such a marvelous cock, only to find out he’s been out trying to get himself blackout drunk.

“Babydoll?” McCree slurs. He grunts when Hanzo’s fingers finally slip into the slit in front of his shorts and encounter the sweat-tacky forest of his pubes. “Really. Don’ think I’ll be up to any-”

“Quiet.” Hanzo leans down, head pillowed on McCree’s thick thigh. He looks peaceful as a kitten in that moment, breathing deep, trying not to show how much he enjoys McCree’s unwashed drunken state as he carefully fishes his dick out of his underwear.

If only he were as sweet as one; alas, even in his inebriated state McCree knows not to touch when he hasn’t been explicitly invited to.

Hanzo sighs through his nose when the dark, fat cock finally is in view. It is soft and warm in his hand, but still heavy enough to make him hot and horny. Seldom has he seen such a nice, girthy dick. One that he could play hours with if only its Master wasn’t so very… clingy.

He plays with the foreskin; rubs his thumb across the generous silky folds, wriggling it through the opening and carefully touching the tip to the blunt, tacky glans underneath.

He wonders if McCree went for a piss halfway through his drinking. The thought of him not properly shaking off makes his belly hurt with need. He can feel his face burn, mouth overflowing with saliva – but McCree is still watching him with bleary eyes.

“Sweetheart,” Jesse whines when Hanzo moves his fingers; lets the warm cock slide through them in practiced ease, pushing down on the loose skin to get at the fat tip. It’s rare that Hanzo is willing to do all the work and the fact that his cock is not responding – even with the sight of the handsome archer’s lips wet and ready just inches away – is killing him.

Hanzo ignores him. It’s like Jesse doesn’t exist: only the lazy girth of his goddamn dick – and anything else between his legs, come to think of it.

He watches as Hanzo leans forward, nose burying against the base of his cock, eyes fluttering close as he takes in deep, slow breaths, and fuck Hanzo has never done that before but the sight of him burying his regal nose in the unkempt tangle of Jesse’s pubes is so good so hot… and his dick is still not moving even an inch. It’s fucking lying there and taking all the little kitten licks and loving rubs of Hanzo’s cheeks, and Jesse wants to goddamn die because Hanzo was never this sweet to him.

Only to his fucking dick, it seemed. Cuddling with the goddamn thing like it’s his boyfriend, almost cooing before he starts tonguing the soft opening of his foreskin, pretty eyes slitted in satisfaction, cheeks a dull crimson.

He’s gonna jerk off on it, he suddenly thinks; the only clear thought in his muddled brain – and he knows it will happen with such a surety that he can see it in his mind’s eye. Hanzo straddling him and bracing himself on the sturdy expanse of his gut; not sparing a glance at him as he frantically rubs one out, aiming his dick to cream all over the flushed red cock he dragged out to play with.

Goddamn marking his territory like a fucking cat or something.

“You’re gonna kill me, babydoll,” he whines, digging in his booted feet and lifting thick hips in a lame parody of fucking. He can’t muster up any more coordination than that and his cock can’t even slap against Hanzo’s pretty face because it’s in a secure, deadly grip and McCree might be blackout drunk but he definitely was not the damned fool to try and take his dick away from Lord Shimada.

Shimadacest underneath

The difference between sober Hanzo and drunk Hanzo did not lie within his love of cocks and getting stuffed to the brim – it lay within his expression of how much he actually needed to get filled.

He was uncoordinated when he was drunk like he was now – a little cross-eyed, endearingly so, and not quite able to grab at their dicks on the first try – but he was so very thankful for whatever they gave him; mumbling indistinct thank yous and arigatous even when Jesse was just teasingly slapping the fat head of his dick against Hanzo’s outstretched tongue, or when Genji was simply playing at stuffing him with cock: pressing close and insistent enough to almost push in, before letting it glance off and slip up, getting the top of Hanzo’s crack and the small of his back shiny with fluid.

His face is flushed dark from alcohol and lack of air, throat bulging with the cock Jesse had finally given him – fucked slowly and lovingly past the tight restriction of Hanzo’s throat, listening to him artlessly gag on the fat dick.

It’s wet and messy, his eyes tearing up, but when Jesse carefully inches back to let him breath, he tries fucking himself forward immediately.

Whenever they let go of him, he teeters on all fours, body seemingly indecisive where he wants to crawl first; whether he wants to kiss Jesse’s balls or lick at Genji’s fingers.

When he’s drunk, Hanzo is so delightfully clumsy.

“You’re so dishonorable, brother,” Genji coos, faceplate up, scarred face looking smug as he just has to lay a hand onto his brother’s back to get him to arch for him, hips angling up, the soft pout of his hole wet from Genji’s own excitement beckoning him closer. “Can’t hold your sake…”

He doesn’t fuck as doggedly as he used to – always wondering whether it would be the last time he got to feel his brother’s warm little snatch around his dick, clenching and greedy and so very hot; by now he knows that Hanzo will come back. That he craves this; craves his little brother fucking him easily – leisurely – with one hand on his hip and the other in the small of his own back, dicking him with little airy thrusts; fucking him as negligently as a frat boy would.

And Hanzo just goes wild for it, groans sloppily around McCree’s cock, drooling liberally; the flush of his intoxication making his body red and hot.

“I knew I would find you here,” Sidon hums, a jaunty grin showing off sharp teeth. For a second it looks like he’s going to push the door to the weapon’s chamber closed, but thinks better of it just a moment later.

He leaves it cracked open as he takes a step towards the little Hylian champion, his arms opened in a friendly greeting. “Of course our savior would be neck deep in all those marvelous Zora weapons. Have you found something of your liking yet?”

Link barely looks at him, though he spares a small grin and a wave of his fingers before leaning back across one of the many spears – Zoras’ specialty – to inspect it with a critical eye.

Sidon sidles closer until he is towering over the small, powerful Hylian. He lets his fingers dance softly across Link’s neck, watching how that delightful soft skin pebbles and the tips of his pointed ears pinken up.

“Maybe I can persuade you into a small… break? Even heroes such as yourself need a little downtime every now and then… charge up your… energy.”

Link seems to think about it, the hand stroking the shaft of the spear stilling before he glances backwards over his shoulder, pretty blue eyes surprisingly sly.

Sidon’s hand moves, cupping the Hylian’s head.

“Yes… just a little break for the Hylian Champion…” he whispers, boisterous voice gone breathless and soft.

.o.

Link makes the most delightful needy sounds as Sidon fucks his slit against his mouth. He has one foot up on a crate, hand still cupping the back of the Hylian’s head, gently guiding him, keeping him still as Sidon uses his fascinating soft mouth against his cloaca.

Link’s arms are curled around the Prince’s thighs, hooked beneath the fins there; so very colorful since the Hylian Champion had first visited Zora’s Domain – Prince Sidon’s lust for him there for all to see.

His back is against the crate Sidon uses for a footstool and the fact that the little Hylian is standing while easily offering his tongue for the Prince’s use, is making him weak in the knees.

He whines when Link flattens his tongue, dragging it sloppy and eager along the soft length of Sidon’s slit, lapping at the crimson insides and ending at the very tip of his cock just about beginning to emerge from his insides.

“Oh… oh Link,” Sidon groans, hips bucking forward. Link is going to be sore later; it could not feel very nice to have the tiny genital scales rubbing against the soft tissue of his mouth, but the Champion’s ardor is as hot and eager now as it had been when they began.

He sucks and laps and Sidon can’t get enough of his clever, rude tongue slipping into his cloaca and rounding the tender walls in a way the Zora knows he’ll never be able to get from any of his brothers or sisters. None of them are as soft as this Hylian man; none of them are so bold to even try.

Sidon fucks against his mouth, hips grinding, hunching forward; humping Link’s mouth like he’s nothing more than the edge of his royal bed where he spent many hours of his youth, desperately trying to fuck away the tingly need spreading through him.

The door behind him creaks softly in the wind, and Sidon can’t get enough of any of this; of knowing how everybody can see how much he wants the Hylian, his scales saturated with color, making him as pretty and eye-catching as he hadn’t been in years; knowing they could hear him, utilizing their Champion, offering his body up for his amusement; his pleasure and gaining so much in return.

He can feel his insides clenching, growing hot and molten, his knees starting to shake until he is afraid he’ll just slide to the floor before Link can finish what he started-

but then Link’s clever little Hylian fingers are there, playing with his cloaca, rounding the tender opening again and again before slipping inside and testing how slimy wet and excited Sidon was for him.

It will be so hard to let him go again… but he knows Link will come back sooner or later. Every Champion deserved some relaxation.

Sidon felt a sharp thrill of hunter lust as he watched Link through the high grass around the hot spring. He carefully stretched his toes, feeling the warm water current tug deliciously at the thin membrane between them. Now was not the time to get distracted by thoughts of hunting and digging his sharp teeth into soft, soft flesh.

Link was far too precious for something as trivial as that. Still he indulges himself, ducking low, watching the little Hylian through the gently swaying blades of grass. He was so unsuspecting – walking aimlessly around and turning around himself again and again; looking for the place Sidon had indicated, no doubt.

He looked so… innocent.

“Link!” Sidon finally stretches up, arm high, waving towards the savior of the Zora’s. “Link, I am here. Come! Come to me. The water feels marvelous.”

Link beams as he sees him, those expressive blue eyes squinting with his broad grin as he first waves back, and then comes jogging close. Sidon pushed back from the stony shore and lazily swims a few meters backwards, watching as the little Hylian starts shucking his clothes.

.o.

“Do you like your reward, Link?” Sidon whispers, breath hitching as Link’s warm, soft Hylian tongue dances curiously across the barely visible slit between Sidon’s thighs.

The grass is tickling against his crimson scales and he wishes he could feel the water lapping around him just as eagerly as Link was lapping at his pearl white slit, but the Hylian looked so content floating in the water between the Prince’s thighs, he couldn’t make himself move him.

Link’s eyes are mostly closed, their unnervingly bright blue practically shining in cat-like satisfaction as he glances up at the tall Zora Prince – then closes his soft, agile mouth across the little sensitive slit and sucks…

Sidon groans and arches his hips up, head falling back, the fin on the back of his head trailing playfully along the ground. He can feel himself open up beneath the Hylian’s ministrations; his protective little slit opening and showing off the pretty crimson flesh beneath.

He unfurled for his Champion like a flower, thighs spreading farther, slit opening almost comically eager now that it had seemingly made up its mind.

Link curled back in surprise, mouth open and pink looking from dragging his lips across those minuscule scales lining Sidon’s slit. He eyes the new development, fingers coming up and touching, that soft, sensitive flesh, feeling it quiver for him.

Sidon could feel his pupils pull together into thin, barely there lines as he watched. Link looked so small, but his fingers felt good; the tips broad and rough from handling various weapons.

He looked intrigued after a second or two of just looking at Sidon, those clever eyes taking in the Prince’s cock unfurling slowly from within his body, and then the tender little hole beneath.

He swooped in, Hylian mouth open and greedy and so, so soft, closing around Sidon’s cloaca and tonguing it wet and messy; that clever little muscle dancing around the tender edges, then pushing in playfully until Sidon’s sharp nails were digging into the dirt and his cock was out, straining towards link; the sticky tentacle dragging in a loving caress across the Hylian’s forehead.

“Oh… oh Link,” Sidon whined, hips canting upward, cloaca clenching down on Link’s tongue. “You… oh dear.”

The gills along his ribs are moving weakly, overwhelmed by the sensation of the Hylian sucking, sharp and almost mean on his sensitive cloaca, one hand coming up, offering a few fingers to Sidon’s cock – like he was used to it, like he played with Zora every goddamn day – and let it curl around them and hold on in a tight clasp.

“Link,” Sidon whispered faintly. When he moved, his many necklaces dragged across his chest; the sensation was almost too much. He bucked up against the Hylian’s face, shivering, cock squeezing rhythmically around Link’s fingers. “Did you do this to the Princess, too?”

The thought came suddenly to him; like an epiphany. He can see it so clearly in front of his mind’s eye: the guard of the Princess taking care of her every need when out on the rough, beautiful roads of Hyrule. Spending many an hour between her soft, quivering thighs, pleasuring her until her little pink Hylian cunt was puffy and oversensitive.

Oh, he could see it…

“Did you fuck her like this?” he whispers feverishly, hips curling up, cock squeezing. “Just like this? Did you put your clever little mouth on her and brought her just as much pleasure as… as me?”

He liked his own voice – everybody in Zora’s Domain could attest to that – but it became hard to talk. The Champion had started fucking him on his tongue; pushing it into his cloaca deep and messy, fist curling – probably in an accident – around Sidon’s cock and holding onto the wriggling tentacle; fisting it as he tongued against the silky walls of Sidon’s insides.

“Or did you give her your pretty Hylian cock as well?” the Prince asks, voice dipping down; becoming rough. He squeezes down on Link’s tongue, gills flaring as he pulls in a deep breath. “Will you give it to me as well?” he whispers timidly, the need so sudden and deep it almost hurts.

“Please? Please give it to me?”

It had to be madness. There was no way a Hylian’s cock could satisfy someone so much bigger as he – but he had to have it. Now. Immediately. He had to see that small, powerful body move between his thighs.

He had to have the Hylian Champion breed him good and deep and proper.

“Link…”

Gabriel slows his thrusts from their punishing speed, mouth set in a strict line. His chest is expanding fiercely with each deep inhale, sweat pricking at his temples.

Jesse makes a small sound beneath him; weak; almost a kitten mewl as he stretches his head back, offering up his throat and the tender underside of his scruffy chin.

He’s gotten quieter and quieter while Gabriel had fucked him, cheeks growing hot, dark, faithful eyes glassy the deeper his Commanding Officer has pushed, cock nudging into those warm, snug, secret places Gabriel was pretty sure were just for him.

God, the kid felt good on his dick; so welcoming and silky, gripping his dick, taking the fat length with minimal fuss.

“You alright?” he murmurs, gruffly, one wide palm petting over Jesse’s hair and pushing it from his sweaty forehead. “You still good?”

He nudges his hips forward, cock flexing when the action makes Jesse gasp wetly. He sounds close to tears even though there is a trembling, jaunty grin just about visible on his face. He rubs his head against Gabriel’s hand.

“Sure,” he whispers, voice hoarse, his cock lying thick against the thick treasure trail beneath his belly button. Whenever Gabriel fucks into him, it bounces distractingly; he wants to suck it into his mouth and give Jesse’s cute dick something good to remember.

Jesse’s hands clumsily reach for his arms, the fingers trembling as they pat down the corded muscles and then curl around his thick wrists. Gabriel shifts his knees apart, bracing himself as Jesse starts tugging on him. He lets the kid play, curious what he wants from him, and frowns when Jesse puts his wide palms around his scrawny neck.

“The fuck?” he murmurs, thumbs rubbing a slow back and forth. “You want me to choke you?”

Jesse is still grinning. He looks delirious – drunk on cock. He shakes his head no, the flush slowly creeping across the back of his nose.

“No jus’… jus’ stay like that, okay?”

Gabriel grunts, confused but obeying, his thrusts slow and leisurely and liquid as he ruts into McCree. He ends up cradling Jesse’s jaw more than anything else, and can feel his sigh of relief against his fingertips.

“Daddy,” Jesse murmurs, long legs curling across his Commander’s hips, holding on for the ride.