here you go. a v short lil cowcree ficlet :3 dirty farmer Hanzo. dirty dirty. bad boy.

Despite the fact that Hanzo hasn’t milked Jesse in two days, the cow looks very content in that moment, eyelids heavy and long, thin tail swishing. He looked like he was about to fall asleep, teeth softly clicking against the bit, saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth. Every now and then he’d bend low, nudging into the bucket Hanzo had left just about in reach with an assortment of treats just to keep the cow happy and docile.

Not that Jesse was a difficult creature to deal with: he was complacent in most things, happy to follow Hanzo’s lead and good tempered enough not to bite or kick when his new owner fumbled through learning how to properly milk him.

He was curious; that was his biggest problem – always with his nose shoved against Hanzo’s hip, trying to sniff out any treats, beard scratchy and lips so very soft as he sought whatever he imagined to have caught a whiff of.

The issue was easily enough resolved. Jesse didn’t like his bridle after the week or two he had spent tethered to a stake, but a carrot eased him over his unwilling head shakes until Hanzo had him where he needed him to be, the rope short enough to keep him from constantly turning his head and ogling with big, gentle, brown eyes.

“There you go, boy,” Hanzo murmured, carefully sitting down on a low stool at Jesse’s hips, patting his rump. The cow was getting a little soft around the hips and thighs – Hanzo wasn’t shy to admit he was spoiling him – but he kind of liked it that way. The motion seemed to alert Jesse to the fact that his owner was back, because suddenly he was not as sleepy and content anymore.

He brayed unhappily, trying to twist and show off the filled strain of his teats, big pink nipples soft and swollen, and on the cusp of painful becoming painful. Hanzo bit his lip, staring at the soft jiggle in the large pecs, just enough fat there to make them move the tiniest bit with Jesse’s impatient pulls against the bridle.

He cried again, obnoxiously loud, knees shifting in the straw, blinking at Hanzo with those large, pitiful eyes as much as possible with his limited range of movement.

Hanzo clucked his tongue, face hot as he kept staring at Jesse’s teats – the urge to drop down and service the cow almost unbearable.

“Don’t pretend. You’re getting spoiled enough,” he told him gruffly. He felt damnably embarrassed; as if anybody was likely to burst in on them and see Hanzo shamefully lusting for a cow.

“Let’s try this.” His voice was wobbling. The tips of his ears were burning, pounding quick and nervous in time with the distracting throb of his cock as he grabbed Jesse’s swishing brown spotted tail at the base to hold it out of the way as he brought slick fingers to the cow’s hole.

Nasty. He was so very nasty for even considering this. Fingering an animal.

Jesse brayed again, unhappy with the situation – and unused to being denied after Hanzo had spent the better half of two months catering to his every whim; always greedy for the creamy, rich milk the cow produced.

For a moment Hanzo got distracted by the sight of Jesse’s testicles; large and ripe between his thighs, the tip of his heavy, meaty cock just about visible… then his slick fingers touched the clench of Jesse’s ass and he became distracted by how soft it was; barely any resistance to the thick, buttery muscles as he pushed in easily as the cow immediately stopped everything he was doing in favor of widening the stance of his knees and instinctively baring down on the intrusion.

Silky, warm walls closed around Hanzo’s finger, suckling and pulling messily as the cow’s inner muscles moved in confusion.

“There you go,” he rasped, the blood in his cheeks hot as he started slowly fucking his finger into the cow’s ass while McCree’s thin tail flicked, though severely restricted in range since Hanzo was still holding it tight at the base.

McCree brayed again, the tinkling of his teeth furiously gnawing at the bit loud as Hanzo carefully pushed deeper, cock thick and tenting his loose pants. He was ashamed at his own depravity; how hot he became from fingering the ass of an animal – but Jesse’s cock was thickening as well, swinging almost humorously between his thick thighs as Hanzo unwittingly searched, searched… searched… fingertip rubbing against soft walls, pushing insistently, looking for the ripe swell of Jesse’s…

And then he found it, the cow freezing all of a sudden, a drawn out sound of confused arousal coming from him as Hanzo fondles his prostate slow and careful. He was nervous enough that he wanted to press down mean and harsh; rub until Jesse was forced to come so hard he’d see stars, all that creamy … special… milk wasted to the dusty straw covered ground.

He did not give in to the urge, though. He bit his lip hard, harder, sweat springing up along his hairline as he carefully fingered his cow, watching how much Jesse tried to stay utterly still as the new sensations washed over him, big floppy ears flicking again and again.

Hanzo could see the involuntary twitches beneath the skin and through the reflection of the metal bucket could just about make out how his tongue was slowly but surely starting to loll out, eyes going glassy and heavy lidded.

“Good boy. That’s it,” he murmured, nervous, rubbing gently, lovingly, – practically making love to the cow’s swollen, ripe prostate.

It didn’t take long until Jesse started grunting; low, animal sounds of need that made Hanzo excited enough that his cock started wetting at the tip, a dark spot forming on his pants because he’s shameful enough these days that he foregoes underwear in favor of easy access.

God, but Jesse’s ass was soft; suckling and welcoming even to the second finger Hanzo pushed into him. He could just about imagine how it would feel to fuck the animal. Have Jesse grunt when he was fucking him on his cock. Would the cow look just as happy as he did now? Ears flicking and mouth stretched into a sloppy grin by the bit, his teats swelling just that little bit more… going pink in excitement, the large nipples darkening…

Hanzo had to swallow, saliva suddenly starting to flow in mindless reaction to the sight of Jesse’s pecs ready for a milking, ready and primed; looking like they only needed the gentlest lap of Hanzo’s tongue to start dribbling relentlessly…

“Fuck,” Hanzo groaned, bringing up two fingers to his mouth to sloppily wet them. “Fuck,” he whispered again as he leaned forward, fingers of one hand pressing down in a tight, hard circling motion against Jesse’s prostate, fingers of the other rubbing across his swollen tits, wetting them, barely simulating a mouth on them –

And that’s when Jesse came, groaning low, mouth open in a shivery grin, tongue lolling and drooling as he bears down on the fingers inside him and not only comes in heavy, thick stripes into the straw but only starts wet from his tits; dribbling quick and relentlessly like a faucet that hasn’t been screwed shut enough; all that creamy milk meeting between his pecs before pearling and dripping to the ground.

Hanzo presses his free hand against his cock, bucking, whining, red faced and sniffling as he comes so hard for a second all he can hear is white noise.

D.Va slowly drags her palm across the feverishly hot head of 76′s erection, smirking when he digs in his heels, huffing like he’s ran a mile.

He’s red-faced and sweating, pupils hectic little pinpricks in his pale eyes, hair sticking up everywhere even though he hasn’t taken his hands off of the edge of the sofa since she started torturing him.

He looks crazy and she thinks that’s the cutest look on him yet.

She slowly drags her soft palm across the swollen tip, catching whatever pre-cum dribbles out; the other one is curled close to the base of his cock, holding it nice and steady for her to play with. He is almost worryingly hot to the touch, thick veins bulging at the sides.

“You’re so excited,” she tells him with a giggle in her voice. She takes away her hand and smiles at the tacky, sticky strands that connect her palm with his cock before they snap and she wipes it negligently against the hard ridges of his abs.

“I should let you come more often; you look really cute like this.” She leans forward, and sees his mouth drop open in mindless anticipation as her little tongue snakes, almost touching, almost licking – his cock flexing in the tight grip of her strong, thin fingers, pulsing, eager – before she draws quickly away once more with a chuckle and a loving, pat to the blunt tip.

He groans. His balls look swollen, drawn up tight to his body and moving every now and then – little flexes towards his cock as if he was on the cusp of coming, like he needed just a little bit more to shoot – jaw going tight and eyebrows drawing up…

She liked to pull away completely in these moments, listen to the pained, wheezing whine in the back of his throat and watch his pale eyes get watery with tears.

“I promised you, you’d get to come, right?” she asks him calmly, face serious. His lips tremble. He looks like he doesn’t know whether he should answer – whether there is a ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ answer. He lives in constant fear of getting it snatched away in the last second and it makes her so hot she can feel her sticky fluids sliding out of her pulsing cunt, getting her panties messy with it.

He nods after all, fingers dug in deep into the edge of the couch. She nods, hand slowly stroking up, then down his cock.

“Yeah. And I keep my promises, right?”

She leans forward again, mouth wet with candy pink lipgloss, tongue out – warm breath ghosting across the thick tip of his gorgeous, big cock.

She can hear him wheeze above her, chuffing like an engine, heels digging into the floor – and uses that moment to pinch his thigh dangerously close to his balls, fingernails sharp and mean.

He cries out in alarm and pain above her, body going rigid, cock jerking in her grasp once before she quickly lets go all together, watching with fascination as it flexes and bobs awkwardly in the air, thick globs of cum dribbling out and sliding along the shaft while he tries to slide away from the cruel pinch of her fingers.

Afterwards, she is carding those same sharp tipped nails gently through his short hair while he lies with his head on her small tits and soaks her top with his tears.

“I liked that,” she tells him, fingers dragging rhythmically up and down the nape of his neck. “I want to do that more often. I think I can do better than that. Oh man, that was awesome.”

I love your DVa76 stuff, so how about something with them. Maybe she has him innocently playing video games with her but she’s more focused on distracting him from playing properly. He had no idea what she ACTUALLY had in store for him…

Anonymous said: “

cyber, the world has to know: will 76 ever get to fuck dva”

“Am I too heavy?”

The Soldier only grunts in the negative as D.Va gets comfortable on his lap. He’s almost docile these days. Following every tug of her little fingers without complaint, letting her torture him sweetly until there were tears in his eyes.

One could almost think he wasn’t interested anymore – but she knew better: especially now with her ass planted on his lap she could feel his cock, warm and large and needy, pressing up at her from below, separated by layers of fabric.

“Alright then. Let’s get started.”

He has his big arms around her to grip the controller, and she snuggles back against his chest to let him smell her hair. She could hear him deeply inhale – could feel the surge of his cock against her, tapping insistently against her ass as if politely asking for attention.

She smirked, eyes heavy lidded and on the screen of their game. She experimentally moves, hips shimmying from side to side, and listens to his soft hiss. He’s not complaining, though; even when she starts to bounce with intent. He whines, then, high and pained, his large biceps tensing and hands trembling on the controller but he lets her play like a well-trained dog, a slave to her needs.

When she reaches between her legs and into the slit of his shorts, everything is warm and damp, his cock springing into her palm eagerly. It’s large and so hot to the touch; the veins prominent and bulky against her small, questing fingers.

She has to look down to carefully pull him out of the fabric and let him in the air, and when she glances back up, he is driving his car into a wall even though he is making no sound – is, in fact, sitting still as a statue beneath her, seemingly afraid to even make a peep when she has her cruel little fingers on his dick.

“Don’t stop driving,” she tells him and he jerks to action, nearly fumbling the controller out of his large hands. Sometimes she thinks she should let him finger her. His hands are so large; they’d cup her cunt perfectly, keep her folds warm against one palm. Those long, thick fingers sliding slowly into her.

Maybe she should. It would be fun to watch him desperately jerk it while sucking her juices from his digits.

Right now she lets his cock up between her thighs, snug against her covered cunt.

“Look how close you are,” she whispers, “That’s what you always wanted, isn’t it? Touch your cock to my poor little pussy? Look how large it looks next to me. You’d destroy me.”

She can feel his rough, stubbled cheek against her temple as he obediently tilts his head to stare, his cock dark and almost dangerous looking next to her sky blue panties, so thin and tight he could see the outline of her plump folds.

He shakes underneath her, a sad, fat pearl of pre-cum bubbling up at the tip and sliding down the sides of his cock.

“Awww…it’s crying. Poor thing,” she coos and giggles.

ficlet ideas – gabe can get off hands-free if u play w/ his tits and talk to him just right :3c

Jack hooks his chin over Gabriel’s shoulder, watching his hands cup the generous swell of his pecs. They fit nicely in the shallow cups of his palms. He can hear the sharp intake of Gabriel’s breath, long fingers carefully curling into fists on top of his knees.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, “be a good slut now. No touching, right?” He squeezes for emphasize, palms grinding against the tight points of Gabriel’s sensitive nipples.

Gabriel groans low, like he’s hurt, head falling back against Jack’s shoulder, hips restlessly shifting. His cock is bobbing awkwardly in front of him; hard enough to sway through the air but so heavy it dips down and smears against the inside of his trembling thighs.

“Do you want to touch?”

“Yes… please…”

Jack smirks, rubbing his cheek against Gabriel’s.

“Of course you want. You’d have your hand on your cock every minute of the day if you didn’t need to go out and be productive. Maybe you fuck your palm in the middle of the debriefings as well? Think about nutting while everyone around you is bored out of their minds, not knowing you’re a filthy whore that has his cock in hand?”

Gabriel grunts, belly muscles clenching sharp and sudden enough to make his cock bob anew. Jack can feel the muscles in his jaw bulging as he clenches his teeth, a high almost canine whine stuck in his throat just from Jack changing his touch, fingernails scraping gentle and feather light across the tight tips of his nipples and around the dark skin of his areolas.

“Yeah. That’s it. You love it when someone plays with your tits, don’t you? Would probably let just anybody play with you just as long as they squeezed your tits nice and complimented you on them. Narcissistic bastard. But they are gorgeous, aren’t they? And so sensitive…”

He stops scratching with the right hand, instead pinching it sudden and mean between two fingers to hear Gabriel cry out, back bowing and cock jerking out a dribble of pre-cum.

“That’s it. Yeah. Don’t you touch that. Gonna come just from your tits or not at all. I don’t care if you gonna have to walk around with your cock drooling and balls hurting…”

Gabriel groaned again, throat bobbing and eyes clenched tightly shut. If Jack saw the little glisten of tears in their corners he didn’t say anything.

Oh oh oh! What about dom!Gabe instructing Jesse to go on a Hanamura train, wearing a certain article of clothing that signals that he’s to be groped. However, the surprise is that the whole car is on it. And EVERYONE wants a piece. Cue Jesse get his wrists tied up by the hanging straps or having his legs spread for pictures. there was a name for this but I don’t remember what. :3

Gabriel reaches down to get a good hand full of the kid’s ass, squeezing hard enough to make Jesse go on the tips of his feet as he wipes his wet lips against his dom’s jaw. He is making needy little sounds that almost make Gabriel re-think the whole plan to get the kid into the train station restroom and fuck him against a dirty toilet stall.

He can feel McCree’s cock against his hip, too; eager and hard, probably leaking everywhere. The kid was so hot for the experience, Gabriel couldn’t bring himself to call it all off just to get that warm, gripping hole on his dick that McCree was so very generous with.

“You ready?” he murmurs when the train pulls up into the station. Jesse whines high and nervous. His eyes are a little too wet and his cheeks burn a deep red. He looks like he’s on his best way into subspace already and Gabriel smirks as he reaches down and pops open the button of his jeans, eyes not leaving his sub’s face as he carefully pulls down the zipper until Jesse’s young, sleek cock pushes out into the air.

“Well then. In with you, slut.” He pushes Jesse towards the door that slides open, watching as the kid stumbles and awkwardly hobbles because his pants are sliding farther down his coltish hips. He looks fucking drunk, and Gabriel can’t wait to get his hands on the video footage afterward.

All those hands on Jesse’s body; how he’d look freaked out and needy, faintly, sluggishly struggling in their groping hands after the first commented about the kid’s dick being out in the open and already flushed with need.

He’d gather him up later, draped across the back of a chair, hole soft and gaping, cum trailing down towards his balls – and Jesse’d tell him about how two big guys held him down and spread his legs and showed the whole car what he had to offer.

Jesse was such a good slut.

Need more stuffs about McCree takin’ Hanzo by the leash n teaching him who’s the boss 👌

Anonymous said: “You still take ficlet request? How about lactating Hanzo nursing McCree?“

Anonymous said: “mchanzo lac fuck ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)”

If Hanzo had cat ears, Jesse is quite sure they would have been flat against his head by now. He looked as stubborn as they came, nose wrinkled and head tilted as far back as possible as he stemmed himself against the pull of the thin leash, the little bell in front of his collar tingling faintly.

“You’re a recalcitrant little thing, aren’t’cha?” Jesse drawled, fist unrelenting as he curled his wrist further towards his body, tugging at the leash. Hanzo dug his fingers into the carpet, leaning even farther away, threatening to destroy his pretty leash and collar. They were both not made to withstand the bulk of a grown man stemming against them.

He loved being a kitty – but he hated being restrained in any way.

“Hanzo!” Jesse barked when he could see the dainty clasp starting to slowly warp with the strain. Hanzo, unfamiliar with the sharpness in the deep voice, halted and stopped straining, head turned to the side as he cautiously watched Jesse out of the corner of his eyes.

“C’mere now. Stop being silly.” Jesse pointed imperiously to the spot between his spread knees and Hanzo’s cheeks became blotchy with hectic red dots as he warred with himself – obviously wanting to come closer but also not wanting to look like he did it because Jesse told him so.

“You’re goddamn ridiculous,” McCree murmured, leaning forward and snatching the archer at the back of his neck in one fluid, fast motion that left him no chance of escape.

He dragged the vaguely struggling form closer until he was finally kneeling where he wanted him to be – nice and upright so Jesse didn’t have to lean down too much for what he had in mind.

Hanzo’s pecs looked plump with milk, the nipples large and dark and soft; enough to make the water shoot into McCree’s mouth.

“There’s a good kitty,” he rumbled, hand absentmindedly curling quick and perfunctory to sling the slack of leash around his knuckles. “Gimme your milk. That’s it.”

Hanzo kept almost comically still as McCree started nursing, his mouth open wide and tongue pressing against the soft, feverishly hot areolas. The archer hissed in pain, fingers digging sharp into McCree’s thighs just to share the unpleasant sensation.

In the end he became quite eager for the treatment, though; angling up to give Jesse a better reach, his sleek, pretty cock arched just as much as his back as he nursed the gunslinger.

LORD please bless us with more submissive cockslut reaper going docile and pliant with a cock up his ass

“That’s a sight for sore eyes,” Reinhardt purrs, thick fingertips rounding the soft gape of Reaper’s hole again and again. It’s warm to the touch; almost sickly so, the insides clinging and wet when he pushes just the tips inside.

“Get in,” Reaper hisses, black haze wafting from the corners of his mouth. His fingers are digging into the meat of his thighs, clamped just behind his knees, using his grip to fold himself into a neat little package. He’s a good boy, even though he likes to forget his manners if things aren’t going his way.

Reinhardt ignores it magnanimously. He crooks his fingers to feel the silky give of his insides and watch how the feral gnash of his teeth loosens, lips going a little slack and pupils blowing wide when he gets the first taste of what he wants.

“Sweet boy,” Reinhardt murmurs, rubbing his insides in little circular motions before he replaces them with his cock – the tip fatter and more satisfying, if Reaper’s reaction was anything to go by: he actually starts cooing low and soft, an almost purring as the tension bleeds from his body and his cock flexes where it lies heavy and drooling against his belly.

He looks peaceful when he gets deep dicked, a thick cock sliding in deep and patiently slow. Reinhardt is enough of a hedonist to want to enjoy the capitulation of his team mate.

“That’s it. You love cock, don’t you? Yesss just like that. You got the sweetest little peach just for me…”

He replaces Reaper’s hands with his own, the large palms warm as they cup the backs of the thick thighs, spreading them just a little more to have better leverage as he starts to rock; small, self-indulgent thrusts that have Reaper almost gurgling, belly shivering with his little gasps of breath.

“Pretty boy,” Reinhardt praises low, chin against his chest, watching Reaper’s cock flex out more sticky pre-cum. “Kleiner Liebling.”

Part of my art trade for @offbrandkreuz who wanted a lil something for their pic of omorashi Reyes during his training interrogation which looks mmmmhhh ❤ *kisses fingers like chef*

They’re still afraid of their commander, even 18 hours in and with him fixated tightly to the chair. Reynolds nearly got his nose mashed by a suddenly jerking knee, and now Reyes can’t move much at all anymore, thighs and calves bound tightly to the chair, back ramrod straight to accommodate his cuffed arms.

Jesse was star struck and uncommonly shy. He keeps to the back of the bunch, arms awkwardly crossed in front of him and shoulders pulled up as he tries to explain away the heat he feels in his belly the longer the ordeal goes on.

The room was hot and stinking with hormones and sweat; some of the guys have started ducking out just to gulp in fresh air, but Jesse couldn’t make himself leave other than for quick restroom breaks and sips of water.

They didn’t have the guts to seriously get on Reyes’ case and the wild twinkling in his eyes showed that he knew as well. He was lazy almost, head tilting back, showing them his jugular; eyes heavy lidded. Sensual.

He was daring them to finally make a move and nobody was daring to step forward.

Jesse stared at the way Reyes’ feet moved, a slow tipping up of the heavy steel capped toes that had taken up in frequency. Something was up and it intrigued Jesse but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“You’re a bunch of useless idiots,” Reyes sighed, rolling his eyes. Jesse’s mouth was standing open and he didn’t realize. He was staring at the commander’s face, a thin sheen of sweat had sprung up along his hairline.

His foot started flexing more noticeably and Jesse squeezed at his own biceps nervously because Reyes was bound down and unable to move much, and it did things to him.

.o.

Reyes had started getting more assertive, and while Jesse knew something was up, he would never have thought….

For 18 hours the commander had kept an almost zen-like quiet, only snorting derisively at their attempts to make him ‘talk’, and they’d been almost startled when he suddenly broke it.

He was sweating more noticeably, little pearls of moisture sliding down his throat or getting caught in his mustache. His knee was bouncing as much as possible.

Jesse was clenching his arms so hard around his chest it hurt to breathe. His cock was swollen and he didn’t dare to move even an inch, afraid others would notice.

They weren’t paying attention to him, though. They were circling Reyes like starved hounds, his goading and the length of the assignment getting to them. Maybe they had all thought they’d break it off sooner; that they didn’t have to try and go against their commander for 18 hours.

Their eyes are shining and their teeth are bared. They look feral and Jesse is just skulking around in the back, watching and breathing fast and shallow, and not trying to nut off.

When Reynolds breaks it startles all of them, though not as much as what happens after.

He roars in frustration and kicks at the chair hard enough to make it fall over with the heavy bulk of their commander in it. They’re all quiet, stunned by the sudden outbreak – and the fact that Reyes whimpers, a tight, little sound in the back of his throat, his eyes clenched tight as he-

Jesse watches, throat dry, cock pulsing as the crotch of Reyes’ thick, dark pants starts darkening even more, going wet and clinging to the bulge of his cock before quickly spreading out to the sides.

“Wha…” one of the guys murmurs and Jesse wants to reach down and squeeze his cock. He’s almost panting like a dog watching as the fabric can’t soak up more of the hot urine and it starts to well out from it, forming a quickly spreading puddle on the ground as Reyes lies helplessly, bound in a way that didn’t give him an option of even covering himself as his recruits stand stock still (rock hard…) and watch him piss himself.

Jesse imagines that he can even hear the stream of the piss; imagines the wet fabric clinging well enough to show the outline of his commander’s cock. His eyes flick up towards his face, his brown cheeks dark with a flush, bushy eyebrows drawn together in angry frustration. It’s when he slants his eyes open and looks at them out of the corner of them, teeth bared and a growling “You all failed!” barked at them that Jesse finally jerks to himself and turns around, legs feeling numb as he flees from the room and into the supply closet just across the hall.

He comes before he has gotten a good stroke in, the mental image of his commander lying in his own piss vivid in front of his eyes, thinking again of all the little tells that should’ve tipped him off but hadn’t.

Holy shit.

the result of the live-write :3 virgin!Gabriel acquainting himself with his prostate :’3

Gabriel is putting such an effort into keeping quiet – finger moving slow and silky inside his desperately clutching hole, trying not to make it do these embarrassing squelching sounds he’s heard whenever he was watching porn – he can actually hear the rasp of Morrison’s facial hair when he drags one broad hand across his mouth.

“Dang. I mean – I can help you out?” Morrison’s voice cracks on the last word. He sounds stupidly boyish and Gabriel can just imagine his painfully blue eyes fixed on his ass, watching him do… it.

Gabriel clenches his eyes shut and turns his head to press his face into the crook of his arm. His mouth is open to drag in enough air and still he feels like there’s just not enough oxygen in the room.

“Sh-shut up, Morrison,” he rasps. It’s a weak comeback. Under normal circumstances he would have come up with something – anything – better than a weak pre-school retaliation, but his rim is clenching down on a single finger of his own and it feels weird and to make matters worse, goddamn Jack Goldenboy Morrison is sitting behind him on the bed and watching with rapt attention.

He can almost feel his gaze like a physical thing.

It is embarrassing.

Whenever he glances down his belly, past the heavy weight of his half-hard, confused dick, he can see him sitting there, watching, boxer briefs tenting and wet where the tip of his cock is trying so very hard to escape.

“I mean… it’s just an offer,” Jack says. He sounds strangled. Pained.

His face looks the part, too, when Gabriel turns his head enough to glance around himself. His lips are pressed into a severe line, thick eyebrows drawn in concentration. He almost looks like he does in their briefings – only that his cheeks were a deep red, hair tousled from wrestling off his shirt: the perfect, endearing farm boy.

As Gabriel watches, Jack finally reaches down and slips those big fingers underneath the elastic band of his shorts. A quick adjustment later has the tip of his cock out, only the very tip peeking out of the foreskin pink and wet, and probably getting the dark blond hair beneath his belly button tacky.

Gabriel quickly turns his head back around, wiping his wet mouth deliriously against his forearm as he starts up moving his finger again – slipping it into himself and feeling the silky walls of his insides.

It’s not uncomfortable – certainly not painful – yet he starts to wonder what the big deal is about.

“I could do that for you,” Jack offers again, voice shot. The bed dips as he moves a little closer. Before Gabriel can muster up anything to say, he feels a large hand closing around his wrist. Shocked, he lets him direct him: changing up his angle and telling him to crook his finger until his own knuckle is rubbing rudely into his silky, hot insides. Gabriel chokes on his spit when a little shiver of feeling darts up his spine, making him dip it down instinctively. Jack groans.

“That’s it. Just like that. Fuck you got the best ass ever. Goddamn fat, gorgeous ass. I would’ve been honestly surprised if you weren’t sensitive as fuck down here.”

Gabriel’s head spins. His ears feel stupidly hot – as hot as the little muscle suckling eagerly at his finger. He clenches down and sweat springs up along his hairline when he hears Jack’s fierce mumble: “Yeah. So sensitive. Look at that sweet cunt you have. Gripping like a goddamn vice -”

“L-language,” he croaks, toes curling in sympathy with his finger as he tries to find that little spot again – that perfect little place that he had only graced with a glancing touch.

He wonders dimly if anybody knew how dirty Morrison’s mouth actually was. Perfect little farmboy swearing like a sailor the second he got excited; his single minded intent shutting off any filters.

Morrison doesn’t react to the admonishment – rather he lets go of Gabriel’s wrist in order to put both hands on his ass cheeks, gripping the generous muscle hard enough that it makes Gabriel grunt and rock forward, shoulders hunching up towards his ears when Jack’s palms slide down towards the backs of his thighs.

“I love your body,” he sighs. It sounds like a prayer and Gabriel doesn’t know what to do when Morrison’s hands slide reverently from his thighs back to his ass, gripping the swell of his hips and pushing up the curve into his waist just to feel the difference. He’s kneeling with a finger up his ass, trying – and failing – to find that sweet spot, his balls warm and heavy against the pulse point in his wrist, and Morrison is starting to worship him.

Gabriel jerks when he feels something bristly against the swell of his ass and it takes him looking hectically back to realize it’s Morrison’s cheek which he rubs against him like a cat.

“Could spend hours admiring your ass, Reyes. And your thighs. Holy shit. I think brass would’ve gotten rid of those ridiculous tiny gym shorts if you hadn’t enrolled. Heads turning just because they ride up your big, juicy thighs until nothing is left to the imagination…”

Gabriel closes his eyes. He has bitten into the flesh of his arm without realizing, the pain dull and throbbing and welcome.

When Morrison leans over and starts peppering kisses against the pouty rim of his hole, tongue darting out to drag wet and squirming around his stagnant finger, he doesn’t protest the hand anymore that closes around his wrist and gently tugs it away.

“You did so well,” Jack murmurs, “but I’ll show you how it’s done, hm? Pretty little virgin was squirming so nicely for me, but -”

He interrupts himself before Gabriel can turn around and smack him in the head for his stupid babbling, toes curling and belly feeling tight from how Jack was talking about him. To him. He couldn’t even tell whether he liked it or not. Christ, he is a mess.

Jack is, despite his crooning, gentle words, anything but. Gabriel cries out, back arching down and ass involuntarily lifting into the abuse when two broad fingers push in, barely slicked with spit and rubbing greedily at his hot insides.

His hands are fisted into the sheets, shoulders drawn up high and hips indecisive after that first initial shock from the push – jittery as they hunch down and lift up in aborted motions, already faux fucking himself on Morrison’s broad, intrusive digits.

“There you go. Holy shit you take it like a champ, don’t you? You’re so silky and wet inside. Used so much lube… Your hole is glistening like a pretty mouth with lip gloss.”

Morrison’s hand is rubbing along his spine; he can feel it slide through the tacky sweat gathered there. The tenderness makes his lewd words even more jarring. Gabriel’s eyes are glazing over, his jaw hurting with the fierce clench.

“Shut. Up. God,” he grinds out, embarrassed from the mental images and trying not to show it.

Morrison slips in deeper; slow yet inexorable, forcing Gabriel’s body to spread and accommodate for him. He takes what he wants like a rude little boy and Gabriel realizes he is – literally – drooling for the treatment, mouth open and tongue almost hanging out. His balls feel ripe and swollen – just a little too tender; too ready to unload.

“Yeah. That’s it. You’re doing so well. Fucking yourself on my fingers. You love it, don’t you? Just need someone else to play with your pretty snatch. Show you how good it can feel. How to do it.”

There’s a fog in Gabriel’s head, and it makes it hard to understand. He’s a highly intelligent man and yet it surprises him – downright baffles – him to realize that yes he is fucking himself back, body rocking, knees sliding farther apart on the slick sheets. He’s grinding like an animal, on all fours, grunting with each filling he gets, and he wants to kick at Morrison and make him sorry for… for… whatever, but he can’t make himself move other than those little, fluid thrusts that are gaining momentum the more confidence he has.

“Yeah you love it,” Morrison mutters, answering his own question. He is still petting Gabriel’s spine; up and down motions that are a little frantic by now, and Gabriel can no longer tell whether it is still only his sweat or Morrison’s fingers have become clammy as well.

He lets his head hang down and stares between his thighs, seeing Morrison’s dick, trapped by the elastic of his underwear, nearly dipping inside his shallow belly button.

Gabriel’s mouth floods with saliva as he thinks about suckling at the tip; slipping his tongue into the velvety folds of foreskin and lick up the gathered pre-cum. He’s never felt it this strongly before; only idle passing thoughts about whether he would like sucking dick. Morrison’s dick. Whether he would like swallowing.

He’s never felt it this strongly; this overwhelming need to rub a thick cock against his tongue, feeling the drag and weight of it push into the back of his throat until he was drooling too much and couldn’t swallow it down anymore.

He’s never-

“How about we try this?”

Gabriel’s body jerks before he has the chance of understanding Jack’s low voice, a gurgling shout ripped from him – more of surprise than anything – when Morrison suddenly moves and crooks his fingers, pressing them perfectly and with delicious precision at that spot Gabriel had been searching for.

Tears spring up in his eyes, a drawn out sound – something like “hhhaaahhhhh” – wheezing out of him. There’s a cramp in his right calf and he wants to pay attention to it but Morrison his humming and pushing again, fingertips dragging in little circular motions against the spongy wall of Gabriel’s insides, massaging into the gland he has found.

“That’s it,” Morrison murmurs, fingers spreading, putting off the pressure in favor of just teasing him with glimpses of it – Gabriel’s body suddenly feeling overripe. Juicy. Ready. He feels almost delirious with want, and his cock has fattened out almost without him noticing. “I knew you’d be like that. So sensitive. Couldn’t be anything less with that gorgeous ass. God Gabriel, the things I wanna do to you.”

Gabriel angles his shoulders down, face mashing into the rumpled sheets of the bed, low shivers sliding through his body in waves that start at the very tip of his head and end in his toes.

He doesn’t know whether he is afraid or giddy.

Asked @nesy-art whether I could write a lil something for their McHanzo pic(s) and got granted permission ❤ thaaanks

Hanzo squeezed just beneath the head and McCree kicked out like a horse, spurs jangling loud and obnoxiously. Immediately, Hanzo’s fingers tightened painfully on the wavy hair on the nape of his neck and pulled his head away from his shoulder like an unruly puppy.

“Silence,” he admonishes. His face is impassive. Cool. Collected. There is no hair out of line in his neatly trimmed goatee and when Jesse wants to fall forward and wipe his wet mouth against the black, sharp line, he tightens his grip slightly more and shakes him just for good measure.

“Behave.”

Jesse’s mouth is open, his bionic hand clawed in Hanzo’s wide sleeve because he isn’t allowed to grip his arm and give him bruises.

“Darlin’, he pants, and grimaces when Hanzo swipes a thumb across the blunt head of his cock, trimmed fingernail pressing carefully against the weeping slit. “Darlin’. Sweetheart, Babydoll.”

He chants it like a prayer, hips trying to strain up but the immediate loosening of Hanzo’s slick fist – as if he loses interest in the proceedings the second Jesse tries to wrestle control from him – has the cowboy sitting back down on his ass real quick.

He whines high in his throat. Canine. Needy. His cock flexes in Hanzo’s grip, a dollop of salty liquid getting swiped up and smeared across the thin, hot skin in a practiced move.

Jesse’s mouth falls open. His pits are itching with sweat, shirt sticking to his chest. Hanzo hasn’t let him get out of his clothes other than pushing his shirt up and slacks far enough down to get at his cock.

“Sweetheart, Darlin’, please, I… ahh.. hah…”

He moves his knees timidly at Hanzo’s sides and freezes when the movement makes his spurs jingle again. He glances in dog like submission at the archer and catches just about the tiny, satisfied smirk hiding in the corner of his mouth before he is pushed forward with the bossy grip on his neck, his forehead pressed against Hanzo’s tattooed shoulder.

The archer jerks him off slow and patient, face plain, almost bored – and it drives Jesse wild. He’s huffing and groaning like a beast, clutching Hanzo to himself as much as he is allowed.

“Damn,” he whispers, the nervous fight bleeding out of him; body and mind accepting that he is not going to be leading this one – will just be getting whatever Hanzo wants to give.

It is a little easier, then; to just pant warm and wet against Hanzo’s chest, and let the feeling of his rough, sometimes mean hand wash over him and drive him insane.

Hanzo doesn’t say anything, but he squeezes him a little tighter in praise, the slick tunnel of his hand getting that much more addicting, the blunt fingernails of the other hand scratching his neck minimally.

Jesse nearly starts thumping his heel at the ground in pleasure.

“Dog,” Hanzo says, amused like he can hear Jesse’s thoughts.