11th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 6th Fill

McCree/Reyes – continuation of this fic – demons Jesse and Gabriel; rough sex; choking/asphyxiation; 69 position; demon cocks/demon anatomy – it does not always have to be punishment. Sometimes they just want to enjoy themselves.

Jesse gets punished for his cheek on a regular basis, and even though he always cries and begs and debases himself for all the other demons to see, he comes looking for it again and again and again.

He seems to love punishment more than anybody else. If he takes offence to the lesser demons trying to get one up on him and use his pathetic displays during Gabriel’s *disciplinary actions* against him, he does not show it.

He stomps any signs of rebellion with a ruthless efficiency that Gabriel grudgingly admires, only to turn around the next second and do some dumb shit that will net him some more humiliation.

Gabriel can fuck him into submission as often as he likes but he starts suspecting that Jesse is some kind of torture devised specifically for him: no matter how often he fucks his hole bloody and leaves him with his face in the dirt and his sloppy, fucked-out cunt in the air for everybody to see, it never seems to stick with the younger demon. He takes it in stride. Craves it. Needs it again and again.

They don’t always fuck as a punishment, though.

It’s bad practice, maybe. Gabriel should be more strict. Get Jesse to come to heel before giving him even an inch – because Jesse will always take the whole hand and more if given the chance, but…

Well.

Gabriel is weak sometimes, too.

Jesse can be awfully cute. Especially when they’re curled around each other, stuffing each other’s cock down their throat.

He’s in love with Gabriel’s dick, simple as that, and feeling him studiously paying attention to every frill, snaking his tongue beneath the hard chitin scales to get at the silky flesh beneath is… eye opening.

Especially when he gets desperate for it when someone were to curl their tail around his throat and squeeze until his face takes on an alarming shade of dark red, for example…

Gabriel is giving Jesse’s balls lazy kitten licks. He’s not much in the mood to suck dick, but he’ll cuddle with it some. It’s definitely enough to keep Jesse happy while he struggles both for breath and to keep snaking his impudent, silky tongue beneath one of the smaller scales close to the tip of Gabriel’s cock.

Jesse is easily placated with a few half-assed sucks and liberal drooling across his balls, and even if he feels particularly pushy, he usually subsides quick enough when Gabriel puts his sharp claws to use.

Right now he probably wouldn’t even notice if Gabriel started paying attention to the small hole at the crown of his cock, trying to stuff his pliable, long tongue into it. With every squeeze of Gabriel’s cock around his throat, his dick surges against Gabriel’s cheek, and Jesse’s leathery wings spasm.

He gurgles but still manages to push one finger beneath one of Gabriel’s scales and tease it up enough to show off the tender, dark pink flesh beneath. Gabriel shudders, the frills along his cock flaring for a moment before lying back down, sleek except for the one little plate Jesse is paying attention to at the moment.

Gabriel loosens his tail, and Jesse pauses for a moment as he gasps for air, his body going relaxed and hot, cock jerking and spurting out a fat string of pre-cum against Gabriel’s cheek and neck.

Before Gabriel can squeeze down again, Jesse suddenly surges forward and stuffs his cock down his throat. Gabriel curses and digs his claws into Jesse’s thighs until he bleeds. Jesse whines but does not let off. He seems fiercely determined to somehow fuck his throat onto Gabriel’s cock.

Gabriel snorts, but lets him have at it. Nobody has ever been as enamored with his dick as Jesse. He is a goddamn freak, but that makes him fit to them pretty well, Gabriel supposes.

While Jesse tries to kill himself on this cock, Gabriel pays idle attention to that sweet little space behind the other demon’s balls. His tongue snakes out long, pushing leisurely into the magma hot insides of Jesse.

His intestines convulse, throbbing around the intrusion. Welcoming him. He could dish out punishment as often as he likes and Jesse’s slutty, gluttonous body would still crave him and debase itself just so he would come and fuck it into a mess some more.

He forgets sometimes that Jesse is a lust demon. He does not know why; especially when his insides seem to come alive with their own mind, rippling and squeezing and hugging in a way that he refuses to believe is intentional when Jesse is currently choking quite literally on Gabriel’s cock.

Gabriel has mercy on him, in the end. His tail tightens around Jesse’s throat once more, but this time to tug him away and off his dick. Jesse fights him every bit of the way, the stupid bastard, and when he’s finally off of him, it is only seconds before Gabriel grunts and the scales along his cock flare open viciously before he pumps thick, long strings of hot cum across Jesse’s face, and into his hastily opened mouth.

Damn these greedy lust demons.

11th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 5th Fill

McHanzo – continuation of this ficlet – nipple play; inverted nipples; dom/sub; 300 words – McCree continues to teach Hanzo.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jesse admonishes gently when Hanzo lifts his hips up into him. He’s trying to feel some friction; to make the massive girth spreading him open a little less substantial. It always helps when Jesse moves, dragging along his rim, getting it swollen and pouty and loose with use.

Having him in his guts, fat and decidedly unmoving seems to be too much. There’s no delicious friction, no pressure against his prostate to tide him over the feeling of being filled to the brim; to a point where he has to feel like his belly is distended from the cock inside him… and the whole ordeal makes Hanzo whiny and squirmy.

Trying to fuck himself if Jesse is unwilling to do the work.

Jesse tries to keep him still, but Hanzo is a crafty little bitch and he has to change tactics. He grunts as he has to manhandle Hanzo around, but finally he’s on his back with Hanzo lying on top of him. There’s not much leverage to be hand like this and Hanzo starts sluggishly fighting it until Jesse has his hands back on his tits, both thumbs and forefingers grabbing a hold of his pudgy, soft nipples and squeezing down meanly until he gets very still again.

“There you go,” Jesse mutters, moving his fingers as if rolling a nipple between the rough tips; but of course Hanzo’s are still hidden away in the puffy flesh of his areolas. He seems to like it regardless.

He whines obediently and gets squirmy and nervous again, his cock painfully hard looking as his insides squeeze down on Jesse’s cock; the silky, hungry guts just holding on to him as he his body tries to understand that the good feelings come from his slutty tits and not the big cock spreading him.

“Good boy,” Jesse rasps into Hanzo’s ear, a bit breathless by the substantial weight of the other man pressing down on him. “There you go. You can come whenever you want, babydoll. That’s it.”

Hanzo is a quick learner. He will *understand*.

Gift/Exchange for Severeni :3c

@severeni (who… tumblr doesn’t let me add…) and I have had a good hot exchange going. I get a super delicious pic of Endeavor (link) and they get a fic of their choice >:3c

They wanted Hanzo’s dick getting stuffed by a special sound + some unsatisfying orgasm and that’s what they get >:3ccccc (tiny bit of cbt at the end)

They’ve had worked their way up to Hanzo letting himself get blindfolded as he’s getting his cock stuffed with sleek, slicked-up metal rods, but this time they’ve opted out of it because Hanzo needs to watch the proceedings. Jesse doesn’t begrudge him the urge. The new sound is scary looking after all: a thin metal rod with fat metal pearls crafted along its length to keep them stationary as it got carefully pushed into the tiny tender hole at the crown of a waiting cock.

The circumference of the pearls should not be too much of a challenge. They’ve already had tried out bigger – if only slightly so – rods… but the this new toy still looks daunting, lying at the end of a row of their normal practice sounds that Jesse will use to work Hanzo up to the main event.

He’s currently carefully pushing the second rod into Hanzo’s cock; one hand holding the lovely dick steady as the other delicately rolls the metal between two fingers as he slowly stuffs Hanzo‘s urethra. Fucks him from inside out.

When he glances up, Hanzo’s eyes are staring down at him, big and luminous. They’re a true, deep black like this in the murky twilight of Jesse’s shitty bedside lamp. After all, even in good light Jesse has trouble to distinct the iris from the pupils.

Jesse keeps watching him as he carefully nudges the rod just a little deeper, lube bubbling up around the little hole he’s fucking, and Hanzo’s face crumbles. For a second he looks almost boyish despite the liberal grey at his temples and in the thick happy trail on his lower abdomen.

He whines and squirms, his hands reaching for his crotch but he can keep himself from interfering at the last second. He flexes his fingers and lets his hands fall limp to the mattress. The big muscles in his thighs are tense.

“Want me to help you keep your hands to yourself, babydoll?” Jesse murmurs, not unkindly. Hanzo nods a bit jerkily and Jesse keeps one hand on his cock, blindly groping around the bed until he finds his old stetson. He puts it on Hanzo’s head and Hanzo automatically reaches up and curls his fingers around the wide brim.

“Now. Don’t let it fall. And don’t get a crinkle in there, right?”

Hanzo nods, his eyes now just two vaguely wet glints in the darkness of the shadow cast on his face by the hat. He carefully unclenches his fingers somewhat and holds on more carefully, arms nice and out of the way while Jesse hunkers back down and pulls the rod out, exchanging it for a third, thicker one.

Hanzo whines when it goes into his cock.

His breathing is deep and labored.

“How’s it feel?”

“Burns,” Hanzo groans, voice deep and wrecked. God, he sounds so fucked out. Jesse moves his hips, humping into the mattress as he carefully fucks Hanzo’s cock with the cool, sleek sounding rod. “So f-full…”

He’s clutching at the brim of the hat again, pulling it down low on his head. It looks awfully cute in Jesse’s opinion. He gives him a few minutes; lets him sink deeper into the feeling of the gentle burn coming with getting his urethra fucked. His cock feels so very very hot and fat in Jesse’s hand. Hanzo’s legs are restless, the heels dragging along the bed again and again; but with Jesse between his thighs, he can’t close up, and as long as his hips keep still Jesse does not mind him going a bit stir crazy.

Hanzo usually reacts well to that claustrophobic feeling in his belly when he knows he can’t get away and has to endure whatever Jesse dishes out.

When he becomes calm again, his breathing a bit wet sounding as his muscles become slack, Jesse thinks he’s ready for *it*. When he carefully pulls the third rod out, Hanzo seems to forcefully shake his lethargy off, however. He shoves the hat up again for a better view of the proceedings, cheeks a feverish cherry red, and face a glistening with sweat. His eyes look so dazed, like it physically hurts him to make himself come back up from the deep headspace he’s been in. Jesse almost wants to admonish him, but he stays quiet and lets him do his thing. He wants to see what’ll happen. He wants to be *alert*.

He knows what’s coming next, after all.

He is clearly nervous as he watches Jesse take the new rod. His legs tremble and the big muscles in his thighs jump as he fights against his gut reaction to close his thighs and shield his poor cock from what looks like a grotesque violation.

Still, his cock flexes in Jesse‘s grip, interested and downright eager. It is flushed a dark ruddy red and feels blood hot to the touch. Jesse leans in, pressing open-mouthed suckling kisses along the swollen shaft, eyes flirtatiously rolled up towards Hanzo.

It seems to do the trick: the archer calms back down, taking deep breaths to center himself. He squirms, looking for a comfortable position, and while he grabs for another pillow to stuff behind his back, Jesse eyes the gently stretched hole at the swollen tip of his cock. It looks obscene and a bit inflamed almost. There is a definite hurt flush on the tender edges that makes Jesse hot and needy. The knowledge that Hanzo willingly – eagerly, even – lets Jesse fuck him up is… so good.

His thumb skirts the edges of the hole, nail gently pressing against it and Hanzo hisses, throwing him a queer look that’s hovering between lustful and annoyed.

Finally, they are ready. Jesse can hear Hanzo‘s breaths: already quick and only getting quicker with the first fat little pearl reaching his cock.

His hands are up at the stetson‘s brim once more, clutching it for dear life. Jesse wants to run a soothing hand along his thigh but does not have any free to do so. Instead he drags his chin along the archer‘s skin, letting him feel the rough rasp of his beard.

And then it happens: Jesse does not make it more exciting than it already is. His ears grow hot as Hanzo starts whining. The sound grows as the first pearl starts spreading his hole. Hanzo is tight as a bow string and Jesse forgets to fuck into the bedding as he watches the little bump vanish inside Hanzo‘s cock.

And then the next. And the next. Hanzo‘s mouth is dropped open, lips wet. He‘s just short of drooling as his head falls back, his hands still clutching the rim seemingly on auto pilot.

Jesse starts fucking him with the rod. Slow, careful, yet unrelenting.

He needs to see it: the fat little pearls opening Hanzo‘s tight hole up again and again. Fucking him in a way that has never been intended…

Before he can prod Hanzo into talking, the archer suddenly starts babbling all on his own.

“So full, oh God… Jesse-” The last note hangs in the air, shivery and long. Jesse suddenly is aware again of his own cock. How it is so hard it hurts; digging into the bedding, getting it wet with his excitement making everything damp.

He‘s never been one prone to a lot of pre-cum, but Hanzo has changed that. He‘s changed a lot in Jesse‘s life, come to that, but this is one of the more amusing things. How Hanzo gets him so painfully, desperately horny that his dick becomes a wet, excited mess…

„You love it, don‘t you, babydoll? Love it when I fuck your gorgeous cock with some metal. Bet you would love getting it pierced with a nice fat Prince Albert. You‘d show the poor piercer what a dirty slut you are… getting so easily hard just at the prospect of getting your hole permanently spread on some nice metal…“

Hanzo is panting, cock flexing as much as possible with a sound fucked deep down its urethra, and his body becomes nervous and shivery. Jesse knows what it means when Hanzo starts squirming like that, dragging his ass along the sheets like an unfixed cat. He lets go of Hanzo‘s cock in favor of trying to keep him still while he begins moving the rod more erratically.

He drags out two metal balls, then stuffs one back into that small, tender hole somewhat rudely, then immediately pulls it out once more…

Hanzo is getting louder. He is just short of howling, sounding like he’s getting tortured – he is – and clamping his thighs shut around Jesse’s shoulders. Jesse thinks that next time he needs to truss him up. Make sure he‘s nice and helpless while Jesse has his way with him…

„Gonna come for me?“ he rasps, his own hips flexing, fucking into the damp bedding, balls feeling stuffed full. He can only imagine how Hanzo must feel. Probably like he is about to burst; abdomen feverishly hot from his cock getting fucked by the new wicked sounding rod.

Hanzo nods, a high whine stuck in his throat, hands still mindlessly obedient on the brim of Jesse‘s hat.

“Tell me when you have to shoot.“

It does not take long. Not at all. Just three more passes of the fat pearls stretching Hanzo‘s tender piss hole impossibly wide and he‘s suddenly babbling.

“Gonnacumgonnacumgonna-”

Jesse moves quick but calm. He gets his hand back on Hanzo’s cock just to keep it carefully still as he pulls the sound from him. It is quick and causes maybe a bit more hurt than intended, but Hanzo is drooling for it now; living for the burning, mild pain.

As soon as the sound is gone, he lets go completely, and, after a quick considering look into Hanzo’s red face, gives the painfully hard cock a short sharp slap.

Hanzo convulses once with a hoarse sob.

His body has a false start, his eyes big and luminous and wet under the brim of Jesse‘s hat as he stutters out his orgasm in jerky, unsatisfying waves. Cum dribbles out of him and pools in his groin.

Jesse looks at him with no small amount of smugness, gaze hot as he slowly curls his hand back around Hanzo’s dick.

“Liked that?“

Hanzo closes his eyes like he‘s in pain, but his cock flexes obediently in Jesse’s grip.

“Ready for round two?“

11th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 4th Fill

Winston/Soldier76 – continuation of this fic – RAPE TW; forced feminization; coercion; slut shaming; hitting – Soldier is back from his mission and his first pitstop is at Winston’s place.

Winston rarely sleeps in his quarters; more often than not he falls unconscious during his research, having tuckered himself out without realizing his own fatigue.

Finding him in his actual bed for a change is a stroke of luck in Jack’s opinion. He’s just come back from the mission and hasn’t even showered yet. He’s dirty and gritty but he needs to get his cock wet; especially after how abruptly last time had ended: The footsteps becoming audible through the video feed before Winston had suddenly moved; pulling down his sweater and jumping up from his chair, leaving Jack with a view of it slowly rotating within his view.

He hadn’t come back that night.

He must have known that it would have consequences – but he obviously hasn’t anticipated just how quickly Jack could finish a mission when properly *motivated*. He does not think the good scientist would have let himself get caught in as isolated a place as this.

His face when Jack straddles his large gut and takes a seat, looks as much. He’s startled and confused, big hairy arms flailing until Jack can pin them down. He can pinpoint the second Winston realizes what is up: his face becomes deathly pale.

Jack grins down at him and grinds down on Winston’s large belly to let him feel how excited he is already.

“Hey there, babygirl…” he purrs, watching how the other man’s face falls when he seems to realize that he’s not dreaming. He lets go of his arms, sure that he’ll leave them up over his head like a good girl – he does – and slaps his cheek a few times, just hard enough to hear the smack of it.

“Oh no… don’t you cry now. Daddy’s here, and he’s missed you *so much*…”

He takes Winston’s pyjama top in both hands and rips. Buttons shoot off in all direction, making a ruckus as they hit the floor and wall and clatter against other objects.

Winston flushes, his big brown eyes becoming wet as he stares up at Jack. For a second he looks like he wants to say something but then presses his lips together once more and doesn’t. They both know he wouldn’t have gotten out anything past his idiotic mumbling and Jack pats his cheek again before looking down and sighing deeply.

“Ah. Damn, I’ve missed those tits.”

He grabs at Winston’s pecs, soft and hairy like the rest of him, and squeezes until the scientist grunts softly, his head turned away.

Jack laughs at him and just pinches one of his dark, pudgey nipples until Winston makes a soft sound as if he wants to cry out but doesn’t let himself.

“Oh does that hurt, Princess? Does it hurt if I pinch your pretty teats?”

He does it again, and Winston squawks, the big muscles in his biceps twitching as he fights against the urge to push Jack away or cover up. He obviously still remembers last time he tried to deny him.

“You can cry out if you want, you know.”

With his other hand, Jack opens his pants, then fishes around the humid insides until his cock practically leaps into his palm. He shuffles farther up until he can drag the crown against the thick fur between Winston’s tits.

“I don’t care if the others hear. But you seem to be a bit squeamish, hm? After last time?”

Winston’s head snaps around and he stares up at Jack, mute but horrified. Maybe he hoped Jack would not bring it up; how he’s just left him hanging. Jack grins slowly, rocking his hips, casually fucking between Winston’s pecs.

Winston’s dark eyes flick down and stare at his cock. His nostrils flare. He has to smell how dirty Jack is, but he keeps quiet about it, even though his face becomes a little bit more pinched.

“You can cry if you want. Girls do that a lot, don’t they? Maybe someone will come to save you… Or maybe they’ll want to play with you, too?”

He has both hands on Winston’s tits now, pressing them together to fuck between them. When his cock slides across the coarse, dark hair, it leaves behind a sticky trail of pre-cum.

He has half a mind to get off like this and force his personal slut to drink it all down, but Winston looks curiously defiant and more composed than usual, and Jack thinks he should maybe up the game some.

He’s been dreaming about that fat ass on his dick anyway, so why not indulge himself?

Winston’s breathing becomes quick and wet when Jack manhandles him onto his front, then whimpers when he hits his ass and tells him to get properly up on his knees.

“You want daddy’s cock?! Work for it, whore.”

At least those are some nice reactions finally. There are things that are harder to get used to. A fat cock in your little girl cunt is one of those, Jack thinks to himself with a sharp, canine grin as he spreads Winston’s fat ass and tries to brute force his way inside.

It is too tight and too dry. Winston is howling into the pillows, and Jack gives him another hard slap in frustration just for good measure. He rummages around the man’s bedside drawer and gets the lube stashed away there.

It’s easier with his dick slicked up, but still takes a while to squeeze his dick in. Winston refuses to relax, and he’s still whining while he clenches around Jack’s cock like a seasoned whore, his dick plumping up nice between his trembling, chubby thighs.

“There you go. You love daddy’s dick. Next time you’ll be a good girl. Show your little clit off to whoever daddy tells you to, right?”

He fucks hard and ruthless, one foot up on the mattress for better leverage as he dicks into the tight, painful clench.

Winston’s answer is lost in another howl.

11th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 3rd Fill

Reapzo – continuation of this – tentafucc?; armorfucc?; Reaper being body armor; kind of brainwashing – Reaper can make Hanzo move.

Hanzo does not walk through the Talon base – he is *being* walked. His naked feet make barely a sound as they gently slap against the cold tiles. Every now and then a masked agent rounds a corner, rifle up within seconds, pointed directly at Hanzo’s head until the black mass intimately covering Hanzo’s body *ripples*, and then *growls*.

He looks like he is wearing a turtleneck sweater and tight black leggins; a kind of catsuit outfit that is molded embarrassingly to his body, but he knows the truth – and the agents who jerk back before hurriedly lowering their rifles, know as well.

Hanzo is naked, in truth; made to walk the halls of Talon while Reaper is wrapped around him tightly, covering his crotch with nothing but black mass but what still feels like a possessive clawed hand cupping his cock and balls.

When Hanzo pushes against the insistent urging to move his feet, the mass filling his ass grows and pushes deeper; deep enough that Hanzo imagines to feel a dull ache as it pushes against his stomach. He is sure Reaper has filled all of his intestines by now.

He feels… *stuffed*. He feels like he must be showing like a pregnant lady; that there is no way the writhing mass slowly fucking him is not bulging his usually tight belly out obscenely. But whenever he looks down, sweat dripping from the tip of his nose, there is nothing to be seen; nothing but the faint sheen of his hard, muscled stomach covered by a latex-like substance.

He’s stopped fighting, and Reaper started walking him. It is a weird feeling, but one he quickly gets used to. Especially when most of his brain power is reserved for trying not to go crazy from the insane stretch of his ass around the warm, solid mass Reaper has stuffed him with.

He does not even know what part of his captor it is; he could be *fisting* him and-

Reaper spasms inside him and presses almost violently against his prostate. Hanzo gurgles and would have gone to his knees if not for the creature wrapped around him like a suit. His head spins, his cock pressing right into the warm, soft cup of Reaper’s… hand? Body? Sludge.

His sludge.

His hips start fucking without him, and the fact that Reaper lets him do it shocks him out of his daze enough to realize he’s in the middle of the hallway, forearms braced against the wall as his head hangs low and he’s panting obnoxiously.

He does not know how he has to look to another; standing there with shaking knees and fucking into the air like some kind of animal.

Reaper is twisting inside him again. He’s been moving the whole time, but not with so much… gusto. It is like he’s become tired of parading Hanzo around like a doll and wants to have more fun.

Reaper starts fucking him in earnest. He pulls out and thrusts in violently enough to make Hanzo cry out. His insides twist and spasm but he can’t figure out if it’s from pain or pleasure. His cock remains pressed into the wrappings around his pelvis; it feels like a warm, squishy tongue is pressing against the swollen crown, sending shocks up and down his spine.

Reaper is purring around him like a huge cat. Being wrapped around Hanzo like this; servicing and using him at every end, seems to take too much coordination out of him to still be talking. All the amorphous black mass around Hanzo does, is make guttural sounds that sink down to his bones.

Vaguely, Hanzo is aware of an audience gathering. Nameless, faceless Talon goons coming to a halt, their weapons idly cradled in their hands as they watch Hanzo getting fucked against the wall by seemingly nothing.

Reaper pushes in, wide enough to painfully press against Hanzo’s ripe, primed prostate, and Hanzo cries out again, head thrown back, sweat and drool dripping from his chin.

His thighs shake. He can’t hold himself up and Reaper seems too lost in fucking him to keep him up, so he sinks into an awkward half-crouch, fingers clawing at the wall, trying to hold himself up without any coordination. There’s a tight circle of Talon agents around them, watching Hanzo getting debased, and Hanzo… loves it.

He finally sinks to his knees, and Reaper pulls back from Hanzo’s legs; uses the newly freed mass to spread Hanzo’s ass cheeks open while he fucks him.

Hanzo is sobbing into his arms, his cock painfully hard, his abdomen pulsing with delirious pleasure-pain. His hips jerk into the weird lapping sensation against his cock, then back into the fuck he receives from Reaper.

He does not care being bared to everyone; that they can see him positively unhinged, gagging for Reaper’s treatment. Reaper is still purring and it makes the ground vibrate until Hanzo’s arms are numb and he has to sink down until his cheek is against the floor, a puddle of drool forming.

Reaper unwraps from his arms as well; forms a cock of the color of the void and pushes it into Hanzo’s throat until his eyes roll back and he gags, snot starting to run as his body spasms, his throat fucked relentlessly by Reaper until he suddenly comes; shooting into Hanzo and filling his belly without Hanzo having to swallow it down.

Yet still he keeps giving it to him; fast and hard and merciless, pulling away reluctantly to let Hanzo gasp in breaths before the lack of oxygen lets him pass out…

And he almost wishes he hadn’t. Wishes that Reaper had kept fucking him through unconsciousness, using his body as masked, anonymous agents stared at him.

Hanzo does not know how he could ever explain that he’s not been hypnotized or brainwashed.

He’s just been too greedy for Reaper’s cock.

11th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 2nd Fill

McHanzo (past Hanzo/others) – RAPE TW; past gangbang; sloppy seconds (more like sloppy tenths); slightly deranged/yandere Jesse; Deadlock days; dry orgasm – Hanzo is prisoner of Deadlock and when daddy doesn’t pay they have their fun with him. Jesse, as per usual, is the last to have a turn.

“Yo, McCree! Get it!”

Jesse perks up from his corner where he’s been playing a card game against himself, and jumps from the barrel he’s been sitting on over eager.

Finny sneers at him, then practically throws Shimada at him with the grip he has on him, hair curled around his fist. Jesse catches him with a wide grin.

“Thanks.”

Finny grunts and throws his friend a look. They both look disgusted as they tuck their dicks away and button up.

“Suit yourself. He’s a worse fuck than the last one. The pretty ones always take it like a fucking fish.”

Jesse just keeps grinning. He does not care, obviously. He’s been at the bottom of the food chain long enough that he does not even seem to care anymore where he sticks his cock. All the holes are sloppy and stretched out anyway; it’s no skin off his nose.

Finny grunts and his friend rolls his eyes. They stroll off to find some booze somewhere, and then Jesse is alone with the Shimada heir.

Hanzo has been fucked by most of the Deadlock gang but he still smells weirdly expensive. Jesse buries his nose in his hair, not caring that it’s a bit wet with one of the guys’ loads, and inhales deep and appreciative.

Hanzo tries to twist away, but by this point he has to be utterly exhausted. Jesse does not mind his weak struggling, he carefully sits back down on his barrel and pulls Hanzo on his lap.

“Wow, ye’re a pretty one,” he murmurs, thick fingers brushing along a bruise blooming vividly on one high, sharp cheekbone. Hanzo stares at him like he’s trying to figure out how to kill him with his arms bound behind his back as they are, but Jesse doesn’t care about that either. He’s used to all of it.

“C’mere. ‘M gonna make you feel better.”

Hanzo is kitten weak. His legs are trembling and have to be achy from being held apart so viciously by the men before Jesse. There are dark purple bruises and handprints all over them, and Jesse carefully puts his own fingers over one set and gently squeezes until Hanzo groans into the dirty rag they stuffed into his mouth.

Jesse makes a sympathetic sound but keeps squeezing, watching Hanzo’s face intently as if watching for something. When he seems to see *it*, he lifts Hanzo minimally and puts him on his cock. He slides in without resistance. It is a slow, easy glide; everything made squishy and wet by the loads fucked into him beforehand.

“Spread you out good, didn’t they?” Jesse murmurs gently, warm breath puffing against Hanzo’s collarbone as Hanzo groans into his rag again. “Got a sloppy ruin down there now,” he sighs, and then coos when Hanzo indignantly starts struggling again: “Oh no, no… don’t be like that. ‘S can be nice, you know? ‘S just a cunt for fucking now. Good ol’ Jesse is used to that anyway. I don’t mind at all. I kinda like it, even. There you go… there… be a good boy…”

Jesse is not moving, but he’s moving Hanzo; slow, gentle rocking motions that have his cock rubbing against the hot, silky insides of the Shimada heir.

He’s not kissing him or getting his face too close to Hanzo’s (He’s learned the hard way how it feels to get his nose broken by a headbutt) but he’s smearing his lips against his chest and pressing kisses all around his soft, pudgy nipples.

When he seals his lips around one, sucking hard enough to get the shy tip to emerge, he finally hears it: a soft, reluctant sigh above him, muffled into the gag.

So he keeps at it, tonguing against the small tip, sucking hard enough that whenever he pulls off to breathe, Hanzo’s soft, fleshy areola is obscenely swollen and red with blood.

Hanzo’s face is flushed when he glances up, his eyes gone thin and glittering. He’s still moving him on top of his cock as well; rocking him to let him feel how nice and big he is; how weirdly good it feels to have his dick press into the aching walls of his abused hole.

He’s not hard, but he does not have to be. Jesse has done this often enough to know what he’s doing. He croons at him, keeping at his ministrations and watching the emotions play over his face as the pinched look of hate and annoyance slowly melts away into one of confused arousal.

Fucking him is loud and lewd; loads of cum frothing out of his hole and making a smacking, squelching sound with every move Jesse forces him to make with big gentle hands that guide him along the cock spearing into his guts.

The little sighs and sounds Hanzo makes are becoming more desperate and needy. He sounds a bit frantic and confused, body going rigid as he sits up taller, tries more energetically to get away –

And then it suddenly happens: Hanzo grunts, his eyes rolling up into his head as his body shakes, jerking, abdominal muscles twitching and clenching as he comes dry on Jesse’s cock while Jesse coos at him, gently fucking him through it and watching him with hooded eyes.

The others just simply don’t know how to treat a lad to a good time. No wonder they never get a bang for their buck.

11th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 1st Fill

Slasher76/Lúcio – RAPE TW; choking; stink kink; rough fucking – Lúcio is camping in the woods. Slasher finds him.

In the sudden beginning – Lucio getting shocked out of a cozy sleep, hole still wet and achy after jerking and fingering himself to drowsiness earlier – he had still struggled and tried to cry out in alarm.

The only thing that little stunt had gotten him was a cock, musky and *smelly* shoved down his throat until he gagged, tears forming in his eyes and snot starting to run.

His assailant is quiet mostly. A huge, feverishly hot presence that only grunts occasionally as he gives it to Lucio in a way he‘s never had before.

He‘s stopped struggling quickly. Maybe he shouldn’t have – maybe he should have fought back more; but in the end it is easier to just go along with the abuse and let himself get fucked in a way that makes his teeth rattle but has his cock shamefully hard.

Lúcio is getting flung around just as the brute wishes; arranging him like nothing more than a ragdoll – a fuckdoll – for his amusement; and every now and then Lúcio can see the eerie glint of a jagged weapon to the side. Close enough to be grabbed within a heart beat and shoved deep into his squishy belly if he’s not cooperative enough, he is sure of it.

He gets flipped onto his belly, hips dragged up into the air until his knees lift off the floor and he has to brace himself on the balls of his feet. Help along in his own rape as the monstrous man mounts him like an animal.

Lúcio’s cock is swinging between his thighs, untouched and wet at the tip. His throat is burning from the rough, balls-deep fuck from earlier. He’d felt a sick mixture of abject relief and… disappointment when his assailant had come, shooting his thick, big load basically right into his belly as he made Lúcio choke on his unwashed dick.

It’s almost hilarious for him now how naive he had been to think that that would have been it. He does not think the man has even gotten soft before starting his rutting once more, balls obviously still full and ready to breed him some more.

Lúcio grunts when suddenly a heavy boot hits the back of his head. From what he could tell, the man hasn’t gotten undressed apart from opening his pants enough to get his fat cock out. He is even wearing an eerie mask that Lúcio tries not to look at. Dirt tickles against his cheek, and his eyes fill with tears from the pain, but he is distracted from it by the feeling of large, rough hands spreading his ass, and then the man’s cock pushing into him, blunt and careless, and using the meager bit of lubricant Lúcio had used earlier to jerk off.

Lúcio can’t breathe. It is like the man is fucking the air right out of his lungs as he starts laying into him without a care in the world, his boot keeping Lúcio down while his hard, unrelenting grip makes sure his victim is not slouching down onto his knees.

He’s hiccuping out weird sounds. He can’t tell himself whether he’s sobbing or moaning. His cock is still fat and distracting. It feels like a wound; overstuffed and more than ripe. He does not think he’s ever had sex with someone so wholly, deeply uninterested in his own pleasure.

He’s getting grunt fucked like an appliance – and that is what is happening; he’s started laying into him with sharp, irregular thrusts that have him grunt deep and guttural in his chest, mingling with Lúcio’s weird little squawks – and Lúcio feels like he’s in a fever dream.

When the man finally shifts his boot from Lúcio’s head, he feels… delirious. Out of it. The world is turning in circles around him, and getting flipped back onto his back is not helping.

His assailant is standing in front of him in an awkward half-crouch. He is way too tall to stand upright in Lúcio’s tent. He is so *broad*… he seems to be taking up all the available space.

He does not seem to feel Lúcio’s weight; he lifts him with a rough, uncaring grip at his ankles until Lúcio’s shoulders are barely still touching the floor, then shoves back into him; diving deep into the silky, hot insides he’s left just moments prior.

Lúcio gurgles but the man keeps quiet; his mask is staring down at him without expression, the eye holes glowing an eerie orange. Lúcio wants to say that it at least shocked his cock into softness, but still it is lying fat and needy against his belly, even as he gets his legs spread like a whore and his guts seemingly re-arranged by the large dick pumping into him.

Eventually, he is too fatigued to keep staring at the man and lets his head loll back. His abdomen feels as sickly stuffed as his cock does. He wonders if he’ll catch anything from this beast of a man; he certainly smells like he hasn’t seen water in a few weeks. (… And Lúcio does not know yet that in future he’ll needily sniff dirty underwear as he jerks off; that he can barely even get it up anymore without a thick, pungent cloud of odor around him.)

He stares blearily at the weapon the man has brought with him. He imagines him taking it into his big fist and putting it against Lúcio’s throat. Just a silent, menacing threat.

And suddenly, Lúcio comes, pathetic and whimpering, getting his belly hot and sticky with his own cum.

The man just keeps fucking him through it. If he noticed Lúcio’s shameful orgasm, he does not show it. Just keeps using up that warm little hole he’s found.

10th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 10th Fill

McCree/Hanzo/Reyes/Morrison – virgin!McCree; chubby!McCree; premature ejaculation; body worship; chub appreciation; self-loathing in the beginning – McCree has stumbled into the clutches of three horny, hungry men.

He doesn’t know how he’s stumbled his way into this situation. He doesn’t know how to get out of it again, either. Hanzo is at his left, Morrison at his right, and the goddamn *Commander* is down at his knee level, looking like a big, dangerous cat as he grins up at him wide and lowers his head, cheek rubbing against the bulge straining in Jesse’s jeans.

“Always wanted to get my fingers on that gorgeous fat cock,” he purrs.

Jesse gurgles something. His belly twists uncomfortably at the word *fat* but his cock is too nervously excited by the proceedings. He swallows and struggles half-heartedly, trying to pull his arms out of the grip Hanzo and Morrison have on him.

He feels like a bug wiggling on his back. A fat bug. He glances around at the tightly muscled bodies around him, then back at Reyes whose face is half-hidden behind the roll of chub spilling above Jesse’s jeans.

He swallows and closes his eyes tightly. He’s only wanted to give them his report and be on his way. He hadn’t meant to barge right into the hot and heavy make-out session between the three.

“I ah…”

He makes a high-pitched, pathetic sound as he feels Reyes open his pants. He sucks his belly in and feels his cheeks go a dark, ruddy red under his unkempt beard.

“I can go again,” he offers and Morrison laughs next to him, deep and rough.

“Oh no… we want you to *come*.” Hanzo huffs on the other side, sounding annoyed by the pun. His dark eyes are sharp like a bird of prey’s, taking in Jesse’s pathetic body and he feels sick with it until his cock is out and Reyes makes a sound like he’s dying and loving every second of it.

“Goddamn it’s good. Fuck… Been waiting for years for this…”

Jesse wheezes as Reyes’ mouth shoves over the crown of his cock, wet and hot and silky. He jerks again, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Reyes sucks, and Jesse, pathetically, humiliatingly comes without fanfare. One second he’s shaking in Morrison’s and Shimada’s grip, the next his hips are lifting up and Reyes makes a sound of surprise as hot, thick cum splashes against his tongue.

There’s a ringing in Jesse’s ears and it takes him a while to realize that everything has become deathly silent. When he opens his eyes, all three men are staring at him with wide eyes.

He pulls his hand out of Morrison’s slack grip and lets it slap against his face.

“Shit…” he mumbles. He does not know what he expects them to do next. Definitely not them crawling all over him, their mouths wet and needy as they suck at his soft tits and bite against the chub on his hips.

“Damn that was hot… fuck… you’re so sensitive, aren’t you?”

He can’t make out who said it. It could’ve been Morrison; might have even been Reyes. There are hands between his legs, urging them apart, kneading his thick thighs until the big muscles there jump.

Someone is at his balls, weighing their heft and feeling how big and full they still are.

They don’t ask him, thankfully, though that might just mean it is glaringly, pathetically obvious: Jesse McCree’s still a virgin. His cock is big and fat still, drooling against his belly until someone pulls it up and pushes their greedy, wet mouth across it.

He whines and arches. He wants to feel humiliated as someone squeezes his soft, chubby tits and pushes them together like a pair of breasts, but they sound just as fucked out as he does; murmuring feverishly about how hot he is; how nice his dick is; how good it feels in their greedy hands and greedier mouths.

“Could fuck those tits…” that was Morrison.

There’s a tongue at his balls and when Jesse makes himself look down, Shimada has switched places with Reyes and is nuzzling and sucking at the large testicles; testing how loose they are in the silky skin.

Jesse thinks he must be dreaming… or dying. He bucks helplessly and Reyes has mercy on him; provides him with his greedy, hot mouth to fuck into.

The thought makes Jesse’s brain stall. He is fucking someone. His dick is in a warm, welcoming hole and he’s fucking, however inexpert, into it; taking what he wants.

Reyes sounds about as delirious as Jesse feels. Like he’s the one allowed to nervously rabbit-fuck into his first soft orifice instead of Jesse, whose brain is feeling liquid by now.

Morrison is lowering himself, his rough fingers pinching at Jesse’s fat, sensitive nipples, making his trembling mouth drop open in a wordless cry.

He bends down, noses at Jesse’s hot flushed ear and murmurs: “Pretty little virgin, aren’t’cha?”

And Jesse comes again into Reyes’ mouth; all across his hot, clever tongue, and Hanzo curses low, his silky voice gone rough and deep. Jesse can hear an indistinct: “Just ten minutes… my God…”

But it does not make much sense. Not when there’s a hand on his twitching sac, lovingly cradling it as if it wants to help him push out all that thick creamy cum stored in there.

Someone is grabbing at his belly, digging their fingers into the chub, and for once in his life it is not followed by a wave of self-loathing anxiety.

He almost sobs.

10th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 9th Fill

BakuDeku – direct sequel to this – puppy play; rough treatment; watersports; dominance display; restraints – Deku needs to establish who is top dog.

There’s saliva dripping to the floor as Bakugo sits back on his heels, head hung low, chest pumping as he pants. He’s been trying for a while with more and more desperation to get the muzzle off but nothing has worked.

Midoriya has been sitting on his hands for the better part, less he’d give in and help his puppy out of the restraint. When Bakugo glances up at him, he quickly schools his expression into something hard and neutral.

There’s sweat beading along Bakugo’s hair line. There’s no doubt his hands are just as damp, but there’s no sign of him using his quirk. He looks like he’s absolutely hating every second of what’s happening to him, but he’s not using any of the outs available to him.

When he seems to have caught his breath, he throws himself into the second round: putting himself flat on the ground and using his curled-up hands to try and push the muzzle off of his face.

Midoriya watches him for a while before deciding that he’s been playing at being a brat for long enough.

He stands abruptly. That gets Bakugo’s attention. His red eyes look murderous as he stares warily at Midoriya, but he does not back away when he starts to advance on him.

He bares his teeth and growls ferociously as Midoriya squats in front of him, but that is all.

“Good boy,” Midoriya murmurs and pats his head. There’s no hesitation there. His face is set in grim determination. Bakugo stills for a second, his eyes holding a curious squinting expression as he seems to think things through.

Then he pushes his head into Midoriya’s palm.

.o.

It is not like he’s capitulated; he’s just shifted tactics. Bakugo is a wily little pup. One that has been horribly spoiled up until now; and while Midoriya does not know whether he’ll be able to train him, he is at least willing to try.

Bakugo might have thought he’d quickly lull him into getting the muzzle off of him, because when Midoriya does not do so and instead divests his puppy of his clothes to get his hand on his dick – already standing at attention; as ruddy red as Bakugo’s neck becomes when he’s screaming his head off in rage – he starts becoming rude again.

He snaps at Midoriya, then, when Midoriya doesn’t so much as flinch, tries to headbutt him.

That earns him a big, rough hand in his neck almost slamming his face into the floor.

Midoriya is on him a heartbeat later, his knee digging between Bakugo’s shoulder blades.

“*Bad* boy, Kacchan,” he hisses. He fumbles with something Bakugo can’t see and a moment later, he collars him with a wide strip of leather. “You’re not getting a treat like this!”

He pulls him roughly at the collar and Bakugo has to scramble to follow, lest he’ll be choked. He’s off-balance, trying to figure out Midoriya’s next move, but since he’s not behaving like usual, he does not have any frame of reference to go on.

“I think you need to understand who is in charge here, Kacchan,” Midoriya says ominously, his voice wavering only slightly.They’re in the bathroom now, and Bakugo starts vaguely panicking, but his uncoordinated attempts at bracing himself on the slick tiles are thwarted by Midoriya simply dragging him along with a hand around his collar.

He shoves him into the shower stall, and stares down at his puppy. Bakugo’s red eyes are wide, his mouth behind the muzzle a soft ‘o’ of surprise as he just watches Midoriya fumble with his pants.

He can feel his ears slowly starting to grow hot. He can’t look into Bakugo’s eyes when he pulls his cock out, but then kicks himself mentally and takes a deep breath. He has to be dominant.

He has to be dominant.

“*I* am the one in charge, Kacchan,” he tells him with a firm voice. “You have to behave.”

As Bakugo stares at him, confused and a bit frightened – and God… it should not turn him on so much – he realizes he’s still hard; his gorgeous cock still standing at attention for Midoriya. Deku.

Bakugo is too surprised to do anything when the piss hits him first. He jerks and makes a weird whining sound, almost questioning, but does nothing else. Then the situation seems to click and he wants to… do *something*, squirm away maybe, but Deku has his hand around his collar again in no time.

He twists until Bakugo has to follow it, one shoulder tilting towards the ground, the other up; face inevitably turning right into the hot spray of piss as Deku holds him in place and makes him take it.

He can see the absolute shock and disgust in Bakugo’s face, but when the warm liquid starts pooling in his crotch, his hips make a canine jerk upwards and his eyes become unfocused.

“There you go,” Midoriya croons under his breath, his face probably ridiculously hot. “There’s a good puppy. I’ll make sure you know who owns you…”

He stares at Bakugo’s mouth; pink and soft and slack. He thinks about him being better behaved; of being able to take the muzzle off of him so he can drag his face between his thighs and have him rim him like a good puppy.

When he’s done, it is very quiet in the bathroom, safe for both their heavy breathing. Kacchan’s eyes are heavy lidded. He looks absolutely out of it.

Eventually, he leans forward and starts nuzzling against Deku’s soft, spent dick.

10th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 8th Fill

Lucio/Zenyatta/Reaper(or anonymous slime monster) – Satyr!Lucio and Zenyatta; rape/rape play; dub con/non-con; tentacle sex; belly bulge – Lúcio and Zenyatta get so much more than they hoped for.

They knew they weren’t allowed to wander this deep into the forest, but the danger has only made it more enticing, and daring each other top hop deeper has been way too easy.

Sooner rather than later they’ve resorted to holding hands and staying close as they make their way through an underbrush too thick to hop any longer. They have to carefully place their small hoofs so their dainty fetters don’t get caught in the insidious vines curling about, but they’re still in good spirits.

The fear they feel is electrifying and keeps them alert, their long ears flicking around to listen to the crack of tree branches and the thump of other inhabitants walking around.

Every now and then Lúcio giggles nervously, pushing himself more into Zenyatta’s shoulder.

“Maybe we should go back now,” he whispers when it becomes clear that the encroaching darkness becomes thicker and thicker. They both have grown up in the forest, but neither can tell whether the darkness comes from the slowly setting sun or the woods themselves.

They’re a bit disappointed. The tales of the elders – meant as a warning but only stirring their nervous desire – have been keeping them on track for the most part. It seems, however, that the others have been wrong: there are no monsters in the deep forest that are just waiting to defile and wreck supple satyr fawns.

They glance at each other, cheeks flushed, and finally Zenyatta stops and sighs.

“Yes. We should go back.” He squeezes Lúcio’s hand: a promise for them to play afterwards and make up for the disappointment – when suddenly the predator that has been following them for a couple hours makes his presence known.

.o.

It’s exactly what they’ve been angling for, but actually being wrapped up in slimy tentacles, no way to escape their slippery, unrelenting halt, is… quite scary.

They bleat at each other in distress, held apart just enough that they can watch but not touch, and the monster that has them in their grasp chuckles.

“What tasty little toys,” it purrs. There are a few mouths and a hundred eyes appearing and disappearing in the black mass that has come out of the underbrush. There are so many sharp teeth, but none of them have nipped at their kicking flanks yet.

“So… juicy…” Black tendrils curl around Lúcio’s thighs – plumper than Zenyatta’s – and pull them apart until Zenyatta can just about see the tender pink of his hole hidden in chocolate brown fur.

They’re manhandled around, dainty fetters restrained and pulled apart at the creature’s leisure who seems very interested in those hidden, warm little spaces beneath their fluffy tails.

Their arms have been twisted against their backs as they are suspended in the air, close enough to feel each other’s breaths on their faces and see their hot, embarrassed flushes as slick tendrils begin pushing into them sleek and without hindrance.

Soon enough they are bleating for whole different reasons: their guts filled with the writhing, undulating mass, holes spread wider than they’ve ever been before as they get rocked in their tethers by the creatures amorous thrusts.

There’s drool slicking from the corner of Zenyatta’s mouth, and Lúcio’s cherry red tongue is lolling against his chin. Their fur is a wet, sticky mess from the monster sliding across every inch of their bodies.

“Ah… p-please… mercy,” Zenyatta whimpers when he feels like there is no way he’ll fit even one more inch inside him. He feels like the creature must have advanced right into his belly. Whenever he looks down, he can see the grotesque bulge there; how he looks like he’s carrying two, if not three little fawns.

It is scary.

And so… *good*…

The creature around them just chuckles. A few mouths appear, grinning wide, then disappear. There are always eyes watching them greedily.

“No more!” Lúcio cries out suddenly, struggling anew. Zenyatta, glancing at him with a feverish stare, can see how new tentacles have started parting the thick fur on his companion’s crotch; showing off his sleek, dark red cock and the tight, furry balls beneath. When the tentacles start caressing him there, Lúcio sobs, helplessly bucking into the touch.

Trying to fuck it.

As Zenyatta stares, he can feel the same happening to him.

They are so desperately, intimately full, they feel like the creature will spill back out of their mouths any second now, and still it is stuffing more and more inside of them, fucking them, bouncing them on itself and ruining their tight little holes with its insane stretch.

They bleat weak and pathetic, a flush of humiliation and lust hot on their cheeks. They come so easy for it, even as they beg for mercy and to be released; creamy little loads coating the thick fur on their thighs; one, two, three until they start sobbing in earnest, feeling like their hearts might explode from the stress.

They like playing with each other; sticking a face beneath the other’s perky tail to lap and suck at him until he comes, purring and soft; doing it again and again until they’re sticky and sated… but they’ve never been this… debauched. This… relentless. They’ve never been *fucked* before; used like warm sleeves and nothing but breeding mares.

It will be long until the black mass shudders and starts pumping them full. Even longer until they can stumble their shameful way back into their home, their bellies still so round with the creature’s load sloshing in their guts…