Jack could barely hear him over the jeering of the crowd.

“You got enough?” He was laughing as well, the tremors of his chest jostling Jack’s head where it was clamped beneath Reyes’ arm. He felt light headed from lack of oxygen. His eyeballs were throbbing, chest seizing, arms hugged around Reyes’ sturdy waist – not trying to dislodge him, just holding on for dear life as his head got threatened to get popped like a grape.

The cheering from the crowd bled into the background. Reyes loosened his hold a little. He said something but Jack couldn’t make it out for the life of him, focused instead on pulling air into his lungs, just breathing in, slowly becoming aware of the most useless things – how warm his toes felt, how much his shirt itched on his back… how his neck was nestled into Reyes armpit, everything humid and thick with the smell of workout sweat.

Someone called something and the crowd jeered again.

“Oh you’re a nasty boy, Morrison.”

Jack groaned mindlessly, head turning, nose dragging along the edge of Reyes’ pit, lips instinctively parting pressing suckling kisses into the salty skin, the corner of his mouth tickled by the wet hair. Reyes shifted, thick hip bumping against Jack, jostling him out of his delirious head enough to make him aware of his cock: hard and tenting his training sweats for the whole room to see.

.o.

Some left… a lot were still there to watch Morrison dig his face into the humid stench of Reyes’ sweaty ass. It was shocking to see the blond hair beneath those massive thighs and even more so to see him strain up and push deeper into the man kneeling above him, little sounds of sucking and licking accompanied by low, nearly pained sounding grunts.

“Is he actually digging in there, Reyes?”

Gabriel barked out a laugh. He got jostled by one particularly eager thrust upwards and reached down to get a fist full of Morrison’s hair, thighs tensing as he rode it out and ground down almost viciously – sitting his fat ass down with his substantial weight and suffocating the golden boy in the warm mess behind his heavy balls.

“He’s fuckin’ loving eatin’ my sweaty ass,” was Reyes’ only comment. His belly was filled with fire, cock drooling along Morrison’s forehead. He could feel his little huffs of breath against tender skin; how he nudged the tip of his nose into that dark, hot space, fucking sniffing at him before he snaked his tongue out and dragged it sloppily wherever he could reach.

He wished they were on their own and in private; he wished he could ask Morrison all the questions that were thrumming through his mind as he rode his partner’s face and smeared his heavy sack across the bridge of his perfect farm boy nose.

You like being nasty, Morrison?

You get off on mashing your face into my sweaty pits?

Wanna have me step on your dick, too?

…Wanna make out some before I sit my fat ass down on your face and make you beg for breath?

Fuck.

Fuck.

Man, ever since someone brought up Dragonhardt all I can think about is Genji’s sweet robo puss squirting multiple times from Reinhardt’s fingers alone /sweats

had a talk with @filthytentacles and we were talking about an AU with sugar daddy!Reinhardt.

I had hoped I would get to smash through my writer’s block because I’m really fucking interested in this AU but alas 😦 so take just this little bit I managed to wring out of me.

Reinhardt felt fingers inch across his thigh and chanced a short glance over to his side. Genji was curled up on the seat, face plate lying discarded in the foot space.

Reinhardt chuckled and eased off the accelerator.

“I thought you wanted to be my bodyguard today, Spätzchen.”

Genji pushed closer with feet against the door, shoving his head unabashedly beneath Reinhardt’s arm until he had to shift to accommodate – which he did without complaint. He couldn’t deny Genji anything.

“The windows are bullet proof, and I’m bored.”

“You want a little treat, hm?”

“Not little…”

Reinhardt laughed out loud at that, fingers drumming restlessly on the steering wheel as he felt Genji work to carefully open up his fine dress pants.

“And here I thought you wanted to be reputable tonight… Have you even earned yourself a treat yet?”

He leaned back in the expensive leather seat, knees spreading to give Genji better access. His cock was still soft but Genji’s fingers always felt good around it, no matter what. He loved the cool grip of his silicon fingers and the feel of his breath as a stark contrast: warm and wet, fanning in excited, little pants across his skin.

Reinhardt hummed and moved, hand first falling down to the gear shift, then sliding over to pet through the silky, short hair his boy had managed to grow.

Genji wasn’t answering his teasing – he was more interested in suckling the tip into his mouth, tongue out and dipping into the folds of his foreskin. He was rewarded with a low groan when he flicked it against the sensitive head hidden there.

“Don’t get my pants dirty, Spätzchen… You need to be a good boy tonight.” His fingers slide down, wiping at the spit drooling from Genji’s eager mouth, his eyes already glassy looking when Reinhardt chances a small glance down into his lap; watching the wide spread of Genji’s jaw as his cock starts filling; fattening up in the warm, wet space of the cyborg’s mouth.

When Genji pops off, it’s accompanied with a lewd, slurping pop. His hand keeps moving – slowly jerking the older man, keeping his cock upright so he could still rub his cheek against it and let Reinhardt feel the dual textures of scarred cheek going over to synthetic jaw.

“Yes, Daddy.” He cooed it, voice studiously sweet, golden eyes glimmering with a green hint as Reinhardt grunted in surprise, belly clenching. Genji didn’t always pull out that particular card.

They halted at a stop light and Reinhardt’s big hand shifted immediately – from the back of Genji’s neck down the slope of his back towards the generous curve of his ass.

It was easy to push the fabric of his codpiece to the side. Genji shifted up on his knees eagerly, ass pushing into the touch of thick fingers sliding through his mesh cunt.

“Naughty…” Reinhardt murmurs, fingers dipping in deeper, spreading the silky material and rubbing up against the little nodes hidden inside. “You rather want to be Daddy’s little slut instead of my bodyguard, hm?”

Genji hums, peppering kisses along the shaft, hips swaying and moving as he tries to fuck himself onto the fat fingers, no longer as interested in the big cock he was hugging to his face as he was wanting to get fingered to orgasm.

He cried out in dismay when Reinhardt pulled away, giving him a parting slap before focusing back on driving.

“Be a good boy and maybe I’ll squirrel you off into the bathroom later…”

The man in black fled across the desert and the gunslinger followed.

He never left much in the way of tracks; no foot prints, no scraps of food, not even little piles of dirt where he tried to bury his excrement. He left nothing behind that could show even a little dredge of his humanity – not like Jesse who was leaving empty water sleeves behind like snake skins.

He had long soaked through his gear, the sun an unrelenting force beating down on him; yet he still trudged on undeterred, still following the shadow of his teacher.

He never did seem to get closer. Reyes was moving on like a machine, seemingly never stopping, yet leaving small piles of sick, slow burning grass behind for Jesse to rest at during the night.

He wants me to follow him, he thinks in these moments, sitting down heavily. The grass was the only thing growing in the blight, giving off a sulfuric glow that hurt the eyes if looked at it directly.

Jesse pulled out one of his last cigars and put it in the corner of his mouth – not lighting it, just lightly chewing on the end, staring moodily ahead, trying to see the black dot that wafted in and out of sight sometimes.

He was crazy. He knew he was: following a figment of his imagination just because he couldn’t stomach the thought of Gabriel Reyes dying, crushed beneath so much rubble. It seemed like Reyes was somehow… better than that. Like he would simply walk anything short of an atomic explosion off.

In many ways, he still was the brat Blackwatch had picked up and honed into a weapon; the brat that had idolized his commander above anything and anyone else.

Maybe that was the reason he had gone off after seeing it. Lured back to the organization he’d left shamefully behind by the rumors of Morrison and Reyes having died – and seeing one of the windows along the ground burst open, letting out a thick, inky mass of hate…

McCree shifts, hand falling to his side, fingers curling around the thick, well worn handle of Peacekeeper. Here in the desert where the weapon had no targets to aim at, it had become more of a comfort; a steady, heavy weight at his hip.

No, the man in black was no figment of his imagination. He had seen the black cloud. He had heard Angela’s faint, alarmed scream of “Gabriel!” – and he did sit night after night at the little piles of grass the creature left behind for him.

He would track him down sooner or later; and he would… he would…

…he didn’t know what he would do. He was a sick puppy trailing after his master, and he had the numb feeling Reyes knew it, too.

Short anal orgasm slut Hanzo for @hon-art because I wuv them ❤ ❤

“God… damn…” Jesse grit his teeth through Hanzo’s orgasm, bushy eyebrows drawn together, lips pulled back in a silent, unconscious snarl.

He could barely breathe through the muscles squeezing down on him, belly feeling like it was filled with molten rock as his hips hunched, shimmied, fucked through Hanzo howling into the bedding with silky little rocking motions.

It only seemed to prolong the sensation for the other man: he could hear his breath hitch, see the way his head shook in mute denial of the new wave of intense feeling crashing through him and making him unable to draw another breath.

Jesse reacted even before Hanzo could move and dislodge himself from the agonizing pleasure the small nudges were renewing, leaning forward and placing a large hand on the side of Hanzo’s head, pressing him unceremoniously back down.

Hanzo was still as Jesse lifted first one leg onto the edge of the mattress, then the other, careful, slow, trying not to topple over as he literally mounted the other man, teeth gnashed together so hard his head hurt.

He hadn’t fully settled yet when Hanzo took in a sharp, little breath – wet and desperate sounding as his lungs’ clench seemed to finally let go. Jesse couldn’t see his eyes over the tangle of his thick, greying hair, only the soft, wet gape of his open mouth, strands of hair sticking to his lips.

“Ready for one more?”

Jesse grins. He feels feral. He thinks he might look a little crazed – hair mussed, eyes shiny, cock throbbing as he let himself calm down and claw his way back from the precipice of his own orgasm.

Not yet… Not quite yet.

Hanzo didn’t react for the longest time; just breathed through the last shudders of his orgasm, fingers relaxing from their desperate clutch of the sheets – and yet, Jesse knew he wasn’t hard; cock hanging soft and cute between his strong thighs, the wet head hidden in his foreskin.

Once upon a time it had concerned Jesse; even scratched at his masculinity. By now he found it unbearably hot.

“One last time, babydoll. Fuck. Gonna dick you so good, Hanzo. That good? That alright with you?”

His hips were moving again in slow, thrusting circles, playing with a couple inches just to make Hanzo’s rim burn around the girth of his dick. He braced one hand on Hanzo’s shoulder to keep balance, the other still pushing his head down. He could feel him mutely nod underneath his fingers.

He grinned sharper, wider, hips lifting farther as he started gaining momentum. His hamstrings protested early on, making themselves known with burning pain that this was not a good position, but the fact that Hanzo started grunting again, low and urgent, was enough to keep him where he was.

He wanted to flip him over; spread Hanzo’s short legs and watch the ridiculous bounce of his limp cock, as he deep dicked him. He was loathe to move, though; now that he had him where he wanted him, pinned and with his ass in the air, giving Jesse free reign to go to town on him.

“Three times. Got you three times, right? Right, babydoll? C’mon. C’mon one last time. Come on my cock like a good whore. Love my dick so much, don’tcha? Goddamn slut for big American cock.”

He was babbling, slurring words, head feeling hot and full, temples throbbing in time with his dick as he lost control and fucked into Hanzo sharp and quick, little jackrabbit thrusts that barely moved his cock and seemingly simply pushed deeper, deeper, deeper still until Hanzo’s back arched and his shoulders rolled, helpless low sounds of desperation spilling from his throat.

“Deep enough for ya?”

Jesse heard him come before he felt it – a choked groaning sound from between Hanzo’s clenched teeth, muscles clenching down suddenly; enough to make Jesse hiss, eyes tightening with pain, balls jumping once, practically stuttering, hesitating, before Hanzo’s muscles loosened slightly and everything seemed to give all at once.

Jesse bit his tongue as he came, hips hot and rigid, not moving an inch as he filled Hanzo up and heard him whine through the sensation of it all.

Fuck, but how much he wanted to have him on his back right now so he could watch his cock; see him drool out cum while still limp, howling when Jesse took him in hand and helped him massage it out of the oversensitive head – everything adding to him clenching and unclenching on Jesse’s cock, muscles no longer his own.

As it was, he could only ride it out; holding him down, trying to keep his cock in that hot, silky space while Hanzo squirmed beneath him.

Jack is a farm boy who knows all the right techniques to pull all the milk from Gabe’s chest and never spills a drop unless he intends to. He’s got the right hand techniques, just the right pressure in each pull and is efficient about it. Jesse has no idea. He has never SEEN a cow before or been near a tit to draw milk out of it. He’s loud, messy, at least a third ends up on his chin, he hiccups and burps and takes forever unless yelled at and hes sloppier then too. Its cute and Gabe hates it.

Gabriel couldn’t believe how bad someone who dressed as a goddamn cowboy was at nursing. He couldn’t believe the goddamn stupid, milkdrunk expression McCree got within the first couple sloppy pulls, or the way he pawed clumsily at his pecs, trying to massage more liquid out of him and failing.

Nursing McCree was an unending trial of patience, yet he found himself again and again in the inexplicably need to seek him and his ever-moving mouth out.

It had taken the kid three sessions until he finally figured out how to do a proper seal, yet still he preferred to pop off Gabriel’s puffy nipple every now and then just to smack his milk stained lips together with an obnoxious, wet sound, looking so goddamned content with his life, Gabriel wanted to slap him upside the head.

Truth was… Gabriel could have it any way he wanted; he could easily seek out Jack and demand him to take care of the fucking mess, but Jesse had a certain… charm to him.

He simply enjoyed nursing. His goddamned face lit up every time he got caught at the scruff like an errant puppy and pulled into Gabriel’s office. He got overeager hard ons more often than not, positively panting until he was allowed to come close and latch on.

There was a simple, eager happiness about him that was impossible to ignore.

He also was a fucking punk kid that liked to play around, lapping uselessly at Gabriel’s puffy tits while lounging in his lap like an oriental king – but he took the resulting abuse in stride; laughing and rubbing the back of his head before latching on properly again.

Nursing Jesse felt stupidly right. He felt himself more and more loathe to seek out Jack – preferred the intimacy of his Blackwatch subordinate. It felt like it stayed in the family that way.

D. va, in her endless torment of 76, puts a fleshlight between her legs and lets him fuck it while she gently croons at him, teases him, and otherwise drives him mad. Letting him smell her, cradle her, worship her; but he never gets to really take her, not really. But it’s ‘just like the real thing, right?’

fffuuuck we’re talking the same language, friend.

fuck fuck fuck. yes.

—

Her fingers look so small curled around the fleshlight. He forgets how to breathe for a moment, lungs seizing in his chest, kneeling on the floor and staring at the sight of D.Va playing with the toy.

“What is it?” she says faux innocently, voice pitched a little higher than her usual vocal range, eyes studiously large and sweet as she slides her fingers along the barrel of the toy. “Don’t you like it?”

She lifts it towards her lips and gives the plastic a little peck, watching the Soldier watch her, his mouth falling open, eyes tracking every movement. His arms are outside of her line of sight. He’s probably clutching at his cock, as he watches her – squeezing the big dick with both fists; making himself hurt without her having to tell him.

“Well?” she asks a little sharper, leg stretching, pink painted toes nudging ruthlessly at his stubbled chin. “Don’t you like it?”

“I… like it,” he says, voice raspy. There is no other answer he could give – everything else would cause her to deny him the privilege for another god-knew-how-long.

D.Va smiles at him, bright and happy. She opens her legs, lets him see her hairy snatch opening just enough to give him a peek of her velvety insides before she brings the toy down between her legs and rubs it there; hips curving up into it. She moans breathy and totally fake, and he’s so gone for her he hangs onto every note, tendons straining in his neck and veins popping on his forehead.

“Come,” she croons, and he scrambles to get up, large body pushing between her thighs, sweat already beading at his hairline. He’s huffing and she laughs at him. Her giggling increases when she sees how shaky the hand gripping his cock is; how she dragged him to the edges of a seizure just by being a denying little cocktease.

“Oh no, no, no. You dummy,” she says lovingly when he tries, hoping against hope, to dip his cock beneath the toy; let it nudge at her cunt and get at least a little sip of those warm, velvety insides. Instead what he gets are her sharp nails digging into his lower body, forcing a grunt from him.

“Wrong hole, dum-dum.” He simply nods along, tears of frustration beading at the corners of his eyes as he lets her push him back to realign himself – this time with the slick opening of the pink, sparkly toy.

Fucking her like this is a new form of torture. She slings her arms and legs around him and sighs; holds on and coos as he fucks like a man possessed, hips hunching, grunt fucking into the slick opening. She holds it in place for him, at least.

He imagines she wouldn’t sound so sweet and composed if he were to fuck her in earnest. He imagines her howling on his dick, complaining about the burning in her cunt, about how he was ruining that sweet little hole and filling her belly with fire.

He has his face mashed into the crook of her shoulder and feels her card her sharp, cruel little fingers through his white hair as he imagines her groaning like a beast, bearing down on his cock, trying to comprehend the sheer width spreading her open. She’d drool for him; she’d come on his cock, squirt for the first time in her cruel, cock-teasing life, beg for him to stop and come again and again when he wouldn’t… come until she was fucked dumb and silent and sweet, a little kitten, tamed by his dick….

“Just like the real thing, isn’t it?” she croons in his ear, her fingers surprisingly strong as she grips his hair and drags his head back – makes him look into her face. She is composed and smiling, staring at his teary, snotty face and coos at him when she wipes at his cheeks.

“I’m so nice to you, aren’t I?”

He bites down a sob of frustration, his balls painful – filled to the max, hurting, tender from getting denied again and again. He nods regardless; puppy eager, hips still flexing, humping the fleshlight as if showing her how good he could fuck would make her reconsider torturing him.

D.Va leans up and gives him a little peck – not unlike the one she gave her toy – and leans back down with a little sigh. Her small tits bounce with the movements and he can’t stop staring at her chest.

“Tell you what. If you manage to come within ten seconds after I give you the command, you’ll get to sleep in my bed tonight.”

His chest seizes, cock spurting out such a thick, sudden stream of pre-cum that for a second he fears he came.

“W-With you?” he asks, voice small and shivery. She laughs – not cruel this time, but delighted at how much he’s already learned. She strokes his shoulders and frames his face in her hands, cooing: “Yes. With me, this time.”

God, he loves her so much.

Bruh… Young McCree with a praise kink, bending over backwards and submissive AF for Gabe in the bedroom just to get any kind of encouragement or compliment. Getting hella turned on when Gabe fucks his throat or spanks him when fucking him. Fuckkn… This shitty kid in a collar, drooling and panting when he’s called a good boy

Alternatively: Gabe wants to show his protege off to Jack, prove that this kid was a good investment, so he has the commander come down to watch he and Jesse spar. Except Jesse is the kind of guy who gets adrenalin boners, and Gabe is a petty bitch who’s been getting the cold shoulder from too-good-for-this-shit Morrison. Sparring turns into suggestive wrestling, and then into fucking Jesse through the floor. Jack can’t help but watch, grumpy but turned the fuck on.

*shifty af eyes*

why not….. both….

Gabriel throws an arm around the kid’s shoulder as they walk down the hallway. He hears his surprised little intake of air and magnanimously ignores it. Instead, he tucks him in close to his chest, arm curling tight around his neck to tilt his head closer. Gabriel angles towards him – a practiced move to let the hood shield most of his face.

“Listen to me, pretty boy,” he growls low. Close like this, he feels like he can almost smell the immediate rush of hormones the kid produces. He feels McCree swivel subtly, tucking himself more firmly beneath his commanding officer’s arm, chin angling towards his chest as he glances at him; everything about him puppy eager.

“You improved a lot these past weeks. Stopped being a little punk shithead.” He jostled him a little, eyes flicking between his face – slowly filling with hectic red dots – and the hallway they were marching down. “I told Morrison to get his ass down and watch you work. So…”

He halts him just before the locker rooms and leans in a little closer still, voice dropping, staring into the kid’s eyes to get his point across.

“You gonna be on your best behavior. Show him what you’re made of. And maybe you’ll get a little treat afterwards. Got it?”

McCree’s mouth opens in a vacant expression of dreamy surprise, his eyes fixed – not on Gabriel’s gaze, but lower, staring at the curve of his lips.

Kid knew how good recruits got rewarded.

“Yes, Sir,” he breathes and Reyes puts one large hand into the back of his neck, squeezes it and shakes him once, firmly.

“Good boy.”

He should’ve known that he’d made a tactical error.

.o.

McCree had a boner large enough to tent the front of the black training elastics he wore, and Morrison couldn’t stop staring at it. He had noticed – Gabriel had noticed – he was pretty sure everybody had noticed, just not the kid himself.

He looked feverishly eager, a glint in his eyes that seemed almost crazy as he threw himself against Gabriel again and again, his lanky body having no hope to overpower the sturdy sheer muscle mass that was Reyes, but making do with what was at his disposal anyway.

He was resilient to a point of idiocy, and Jack couldn’t help but respect a man that was fighting with such tenacity while sporting a spectacular hard-on. Christ… he could even see a wet spot slowly forming.

“He’s good,” he says, forces it out past the lump in his throat. He has his arms crossed so tightly in front of his chest that he can barely breathe. Gabriel’s facial expression is dark. Sour. He suddenly slams the kid down onto the ground and holds him there with the weight of his body.

“No,” he retorts simply – grunts it, because McCree is trying to stem up, ass lifting involuntarily, and Gabriel bares his teeth, presses down with his own hips, large hands around the kid’s wrists. Jack feels heat wash through him. He feels like he shouldn’t be watching this – tries to catch Gabriel’s eye to say good-bye and flee… but Gabriel isn’t looking over to him. He is staring at the unkempt tangle of the kid’s hair that neither of them had managed to shave into an acceptable buzz cut yet.

“He’s more than good, idiot,” he spits out, and moves – spreads his knees until he has the recruit’s long legs between them and (Jack stares, mouth dry, cock feeling ridiculously swollen in his uniform pants) thrusts forward – an unmistakable grind of his hips, hard enough to rock McCree an inch or two across the mats, accompanied by a harsh grunt from between clenched teeth.

“He’s the goddamn best recruit I got.” McCree makes a strange, high whistling sound and stems up further – gets leverage enough to lift the heavy bulk of Gabriel up. Like this, Jack can see the bulge of his cock more prominently – it is pressing against the thin fabric of the elastic black onesie and bobbing ridiculously beneath his body. The kid is not wearing any underwear, he realizes dumbly just now. “…And a fucking disgrace,” Reyes snarls finally, one thick arm sliding underneath McCree’s throat, forcing his head back, choking him.

Jack is rooted to the spot, helpless to watch. They’re grappling still, but McCree’s movements have become aimless and sluggish. His sweaty face is starting to turn beet red from lack of oxygen.

Gabriel is rocking forward, hips curling into him in a rhythm that couldn’t be misconstrued. He’s rutting against McCree like an animal – fucking him into submission, and McCree… lets him.

He doesn’t even try to grab at the meaty arm choking him; just takes the abuse until it looks like he’s going to pass out and Gabriel makes a throaty, gurgling sound of disgust and lets go of him.

“Best goddamn shot,” he growls and lifts up, braces himself with one hand on the mat as he jerks his hips forward, slams against McCree’s ass. The kid makes a soft sound, tilts his head, tries to lift… His eyes are glassy, eager, mouth swollen and wet with spit. Gabriel doesn’t let him go far – his large hand slamming down on the side of McCree’s face, mashing him into the ground, holding his head down while he bucks and fucks against his raised ass.

They’re making a spectacle and nobody is pulling them apart. Jack surely isn’t fucking stepping into the makeshift ring and dragging Gabriel off of his prey.

“Best goddamn shot I’ve ever seen,” he repeats bitingly, white teeth glinting in his face, upper lip curled back in a silent snarl, “And swaggers in here cock first, the stupid, fucking idiot.”

Gabriel is putting one foot on the mat now, shifting his bracing hand onto McCree’s slim hip to lift his ass into the rocking, punishing thrusts. There’s no pretense anymore as to what Gabriel is doing, and Jack shifts from one foot to the other, uncomfortably turned on, sweat beading on his brow.

.o.

McCree is submissive and puppy eager and that makes it almost worse – brings Gabriel’s blood to a boil, because he could have accepted McCree’s stupid grinning face, as he swaggered in and showed off his dick tenting his body suit, swinging side to side, bobbing because he wasn’t wearing a fucking thing beneath.

But this.

This feverishly eager glint in his eyes, his absolute capitulation before his officer, letting him grunt fuck him into the mats, not even whining to get his cock out or his ass in the open to get properly dicked…

He’d been fighting like the devil, yes, but only so he could get close – mash his face into Gabriel’s neck, have his head crushed into his sweaty pits; get close and personal with his commanding officer, cock leaking, making a spectacle out of himself in front of fucking Morrison of all people.

“That’s it?” he snarls, dragging his cock through the cleft of McCree’s covered ass “That’s the finest you wanna show the Strike Commander? Your god damned dick dribbling through your shorts?!”

McCree is fucking whimpering, ass subtly pressing back, trying to feel more of Gabriel’s cock – and it gets his fingertips itching until he relents with a low snarl, grabbing the back of Jesse’s suit and ripping it with ease across the meager swell of the kid’s ass.

Fuck they still needed to get him filled out, but it would do. It would fucking do.

There was commotion around them and he was waiting for somebody to grab him, to pull him off the kid – but nobody was coming. No hands restricted him as he got his own cock out and slapped it meatily against the kid’s exposed crack.

“You a little freak, McCree?” he asks roughly when he leans up and doesn’t hold the kid down any longer, only for McCree to stay put obediently. He’s chewing on his ridiculously long hair and drooling on the mats.

When Gabriel slaps his naked ass experimentally, he makes a ridiculous high-pitched sound; almost whistling through his nose, clenching his ass visibly, then relaxing again.

Gabriel could see people in his peripherals. They were milling but quiet. Watching.

Morrison was a bright blue point in their midst – he’d almost forgotten he was there watching. It fans his ire on anew.

“You like my best recruit, Morrison?”

He feels like he might be going insane. He’d told McCree more than once that he’d be the one sending him around the bend but he never thought it would be like this: rubbing his cock first down then up between the cheeks of Jesse’s ass, rolling his foreskin down in the process until the air of the gym hits the exposed glans – all because McCree was… McCree.

They’re all just watching. Reyes can smell their excitement, the earthy notes of their worked-up bodies. Most of all he smells McCree. Unwashed and sweating, hormones wafting off of him like steam, back contorted into an unnatural bend just to get his ass up.

He isn’t even jerking off, the idiot – his hands still obediently next to his head, clawing at the mat, making soft, breathy, girly sounds as he gets to feel his commander’s cock.

He’d send him to the showers like that: a large tear in the back of his suit, ass out, dripping Reyes’ cum in thick, creamy globs, the front of his suit equally messy.

Jesse would enjoy it, too. The ribbing he’d get. Grin broad and toothy like he was fucking high, and just slowly peel out of his ruined suit.

Reyes really had thought he’d stopped being a fucking punk. Now he knew Jesse McCree would always be one.

Would you ever write that Reinhardt lactation kink thing?

It has been a while since Ana last saw him make that particular dance: Reinhardt squirming on his seat, the wrinkles around his eyes a little deeper than usual, huge hands curled into fists in his lap as he held his elbows awkwardly away – making sure not to put pressure on the sides of his chest.

“You are a ridiculous boy,” she told him when she had him in her room, her voice low and smokey, one good eye peering up into his flushed face as she started unbuttoning his shirt. Where it usually fit perfectly fine, it now seemed to strain around the wide circumference of his chest.

“Been so long since I had the pleasure…” She pushed the shirt apart, smirking quietly, serenely as she carded fingertips through the thick, springy chest hair greeting her.

“Such pretty tits you have… I didn’t know you were still giving milk, my pretty boy. Who would have known?” Reinhardt made a soft sound; his pecs looked even more obscene than usual; swollen as they were with milk, pink nipples puffy and red as if inflamed.

“No, don’t fuss,” she chided softly when he started squirming again, groaning low and rattling when her small hand cupped the lower curve of one hairy pec, squeezing it until sharp, forceful bursts of milk shot through the tiny openings in the swollen nipple – some clinging in droplets to the thick chest hair; others hitting the side of Ana’s face.

She chuckled, wiping some away with the tip of her finger and suckling it off as she looked up into his flushed face, the pupil of his good eye huge.

“Poor boy,” she crooned and took his large hand to lead him over towards the bed. “Sit. Mommy is hungry, baby. Just let me take good care of your lovely tits. Been so long since I could savor them last.”

So!

I asked @shockbabe whether I could write a ficlet accompanying their fucking gorgeous pic of McCree and Hanzo with like the thiccest, most delicious McCree ever and they were veeery gracious in allowing me <33333 thankss!!

so yis. This is basically just a love letter to thicc!McCree. And puppy play. And loving Hanzo.

mostly thicc McCree though because goddamn.

When Hanzo came back to his rooms – lunch tray in hand – McCree had already stripped out of his clothes and taken his place in the middle of the room where he knelt, and immediately lit up at seeing his Master. He looked comfortable with the situation and the world at large, scars glinting silkily on his brown skin. Beneath Hanzo’s thoughtful stare, he started preening, pecs bouncing as he playfully tensed the muscles there in rapid succession.

Hanzo snorted softly, eyes drawn to the large, dark nipples in their nest of dark chest hair. Already, his belly felt warm, shoulders loosening from their rigidity of the day.

A small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, almost hidden by the whiskers of his beard. McCree, eyes sharp as ever, saw it all the same, his broad shoulders squaring, chest pushing out as he angled himself forward without moving from his position on the floor.

Even naked and kneeling he looked intimidatingly large. Wild and unkempt. A beast that was a force to be reckoned with. Jesse was a huge dog, yet all the more gentle for it; brown eyes always faithful, body open and vulnerable for his Master’s perusal. Hanzo had yet to experience him denying him any part of his exquisite physique.

“Stay,” Hanzo admonished when the wide hips started lifting off the ground, fingers curling into the thick carpet as Jesse got read to move, obviously wanting to get closer and greet his owner. He stopped mid-motion, shaggy head lifting, soulful eyes tracking first Hanzo’s face, then the tray in his hands, before he slowly lowered himself back down.

His thick, hirsute thighs moved apart easily to make the crouch more comfortable, unabashedly showing off the thick length of his cock hanging heavy and mostly soft between them.

“Good boy,” Hanzo praised softly, gaze lingering, watching the pouch of McCree’s belly, the flex of his thick biceps idly tensing and releasing as his attention shifted towards the meal on the plate, the dark, dense hair starting on his elbow and dusting down his thick, powerful forearm.

“Arms behind your back, boy.”

McCree’s gaze jerked up from the plate towards Hanzo’s face, but he moved without protest; reaching behind himself and grasping his forearms, attention pulled back to the tray, nostrils flaring, mouth dropping open slack and greedy as he caught a scent of the meat on the plate.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?” Hanzo hummed to fill the silence, drifting over towards the desk to place the tray down. With his back turned to Jesse, he couldn’t stop the wide grin breaking free at the growling bark from behind. “You’ll get yours in a moment. First, though…”

He opened the desk drawer, fingertips petting along the smooth leather edge of Jesse’s collar before carefully lifting it out.

When he turned around, Jesse’s gaze immediately zeroed in on the item, face breaking out into a huge smile, broad back straightening from his slouch. God, but he was big – no sharp edges on his body to be seen; everything rounded and thick, and covered in dark fur.

He looked powerful, and Hanzo felt an indecent surge of satisfaction at how easily the huge body bent to his will – how willingly, eagerly McCree wanted him to take charge.

Hanzo took his time placing the collar around his pup’s sturdy neck; taking care to brush the shaggy, long hair out of the way to not snag any in the clasp, fingers slipping between leather and throat to test the space. He then sat back on his haunches, fingertip sliding along the studs pressed into the leather, and ending at the metal tag with Jesse’s name. It clinked softly as he fingered it, Jesse’s chin lifting with pride and lazy giddiness, the corners of his mouth stretching in a feral grin, tongue lolling out dark red and pretty.

He seemed to go down into his head quickly tonight, and Hanzo couldn’t say that he minded. Jesse always was such a good, obedient puppy; eager to please and robust – his body made to take a good, deep fucking and give back just as much as he got.

Hanzo got caught thinking back to their last encounter – McCree’s fat ass lifted high into the air, the dark hair dusting his cheeks soft against Hanzo’s hips as he had mounted and fucked him, the warm, dark space gripping him, suckling him in, welcoming him into Jesse’s body just as much as the low, groaning barks he had fucked out of him, the sight of those wide, scarred shoulders braced against the floor doing things to Hanzo…

He jerked out of his thoughts as Jesse leaned forward, nuzzling the side of his owner’s face, arms still obediently behind his back. He whined high and canine, and Hanzo couldn’t have brought himself to deny him even if he had wanted to.

“Hello, boy,” he greeted in a low voice, hand placed low on Jesse’s belly, friendly and welcoming – and it was like a dam broke, his pup abruptly angling farther into his Master’s space, tongue coming out wet and hot as he dragged it across Hanzo’s cheek and ear and neck in sloppy, eager licks.

His eyes closed, hips abruptly feeling loose and warm. He was almost shocked at how needy he was for this tonight – how a simple act such as Jesse greeting him with his tongue and enthusiasm was already riling him up this fast. His fingers twitched against his pup’s belly as he got pushed back by the sheer excited bulk of Jesse’s body, having to brace himself with his free hand to not get toppled over. Beneath his palm, he could feel the coarse hair and warm, inviting chub of his stomach, and underneath that the robust wall of hard worker muscle shifting and tensing as Jesse shuffled forward on his knees. He nudged obnoxiously beneath Hanzo’s jaw, placing wet puppy kisses against his throat and into the soft space beneath his chin, his tag tinkling high and relentless with his movements.

Hanzo could feel the hungry gurgle of Jesse’s gut beneath the firm press of his hand, though the meal seemed to have taken a backseat to Jesse’s play, and – yes – horniness, if the wet nudge against Hanzo’s wrist was anything to go by.

He grunted as he stemmed back against the bulk of muscle, the sharp toes of his mechanical feet digging into the ground to give him better leverage at pushing Jesse’s back into his place on his ass. Jesse huffed but stayed, letting Hanzo look him up and down once more. They were both breathless from their little tussle, hair dishevelled, chests heaving. Jesse was grinning at him, tongue still lolling and wet, and Hanzo could feel saliva dry tacky against his skin.

He hummed thoughtfully and placed a palm square against Jesse’s hairy chest, keeping all that power at bay just by sheer force of will. Hanzo had no illusions that Jesse would be able to overpower him if it was just them in hand-to-hand combat – Jesse knew too many dirty tricks and had the physical advantage. Since McCree had no intention to fight, however, – quite the opposite, in fact – it was more than easy to keep him contained. He simply wanted to play – to show how content he was with the arrangement… as if Hanzo wouldn’t have been able to see for himself: Jesse’s cock had filled out now, lifting in a tantalizing curve from the dark tangle of his pubes. It was darker than the rest of his body – flushed a ruddy red, the tip sleek and with almost no flare compared to the thick, long shaft.

It was a nice looking cock – as sturdy and fat as the rest of his body… and just as eager it seemed, as it jerked beneath Hanzo’s appraising gaze, tapping against Jesse’s lower belly and getting the thick hair there tacky with moisture.

“Naughty puppy,” Hanzo scolded with a smirk, one hand carding through Jesse’s hair, trying to put it back into a semblance of order while the other started rubbing the man’s belly with affectionate vigor; fingers raking through dense hair, slipping through the little, furry valley of his belly button and sliding along the fold his stomach got when he was sitting slumped like he was now.

His pup’s cock flexed slowly, Jesse’s pupils dilating as his breathing started slowing and evening out, a low growling rumble sliding from his throat at getting his belly pet.

“We can play before having dinner, I suppose… it has been a while since we got to indulge, after all, hasn’t it?” He was prattling the innate babble of an owner towards their pet and could feel the tips of his ears warm in embarrassment, though he wouldn’t have been able to stop it even if he had wanted to.

Jesse didn’t seem to mind in any case – to the contrary: he huffed and preened, suddenly lowering his shoulders close to the ground in front of Hanzo – trying to contort his huge body into a form that was smaller; more suited for being playful and cute.

He looked silly and Hanzo had to press the ball of his hand rudely down on his cock to stem the sudden, acute want to mount his pup and fuck him into the ground.

Jesse never seemed embarrassed about his own desires like Hanzo often was; he simply enjoyed the moment: tongue lolling out in a happy grin, body loose and so hot Hanzo could feel it radiating off of him like a fever before he shifted once more in his mindless, animal eagerness – rolling onto his back and offering up his belly for more scratches. His knees fell open into an easy, wide sprawl, arms up above his head, showing off the dark hair beneath in his pits.

“Oh Jesse,” Hanzo sighed – cooed – and let himself take what was so obviously on offer: both hands rubbing the thick, exposed belly, alternating between short, harsh scrubs and long leisurely rotations with the balls of his hands pressing into the soft fat until he could feel the thick layer of muscle beneath.

McCree’s scruffy chin tilted up, the nametag glinting in the dip of his clavicle.

When Hanzo leaned down to suck hickeys into the soft flesh high on his sturdy hip, Jesse sighed – and when he let a hand wander simultaneously to play with those large, dark nipples, squeezing and rolling the swollen tips between his fingers, Jesse started chuffing like an engine; a rumbling groan that rolled right out of his chest.

Hanzo turned his head, leaving the spit-slick, darkening spot on McCree’s hip to cool on the air as he watched himself play with those hairy tits; how inviting the dark brown nipples looked like this: the fat tips pinched with carefully calculated force between Hanzo’s fingers until Jesse started howling, broad back arching off the ground, and cock messily glancing off Hanzo’s chest and upper belly, dabbing sticky pre-cum onto his skin.

For a moment Hanzo wondered what it would be like if Jesse had his nipples pierced – small, dainty rings of silver that made them look even more juicy… or big jewelry fit to hook a leash into and lead him around on…

… maybe have himself a little calf instead of a little pup every once in awhile…

“God,” he whispered, a little shocked by his own depravity, cock jerking where it was trapped in his underwear. He could feel the fabric already wetting through and clinging to the head of his drooling dick.

Jesse’s cheeks were flushed, mouth dropped open and the tip of his tongue peeking out while he panted fast and shallow, face guileless as he stared down at Hanzo and wriggled his broad hips, a needy whine caught in his throat – trying so desperately to draw attention to his swaying, bobbing cock… And even though Hanzo hadn’t planned on giving him this particular treat so soon, he found himself relenting anyway.

There definitely was something to be said about Jesse McCree’s goddamned puppy dog eyes.

He gave McCree’s right nipple a last pinch, then cupped the hairy pec to squeeze it lovingly, thumb rubbing across the coarse, thick hair before he trailed his fingers lower across the heaving expanse of Jesse’s belly – noting how he tried to hold his breath, hips shimmying from side to side, so fucking eager for a treat that he hadn’t even earned yet if they were being honest. When he finally curled them around the thick shaft jutting obscenely towards him, he found himself idly wondering whether he wanted to have it tonight; feel it spreading him open and filling him up…

He gazed down at Jesse – how huge his eyes were, big and brown and begging him to continue, nipples looking swollen and puffy from Hanzo’s mean pinches…

Hanzo was so very weak for him.

Jesse’s head fell back onto the ground at the first pump he received, wide hips jerking into the touch, fucking up into the loose fist Hanzo offered.

“That’s it… good boy,” he murmured, fingers sliding along the length and tickling across the smooth tip before wandering even further down. He rubbed through the humid nest of dark hair at the base scratching gently, petting it like he would pet a dog behind the ears.

“You have such a lovely cock. It’s always so obedient. Showing me all it’s tricks.”

Jesse groaned, heels scrabbling restlessly across the floor, one meaty forearm flung across his eyes as his cock jerked violently against Hanzo’s knuckles as if prompted. Jesse’s throat was darkening. Maybe Hanzo had discovered something that his boy was embarrassed about, after all.

“Think I can teach it some new tricks?” he purred, fingers curling around the heavy sack of Jesse’s balls, thumb rubbing across the warm, loose skin.

Jesse whimpered at that; short and high – a choked off sound as his curving cock flexed and bobbed, smearing more moisture against his belly.

His thighs were quivering beautifully, and giving Hanzo an even better idea than his previous idle thoughts of letting himself get mounted.

He abruptly pulled his hands back, and gave Jesse’s thigh a sharp smack when the pup started whining in protest.

“None of that now. Go and fetch your leash, pet.”

He sat for a moment longer, watching the frankly mesmerizing sight of the massive body moving – wide hips swaying, back a solid, broad wall littered with greyish scars, the crack of his ass a dark, humid place Hanzo loved to shove his face into. Like this, Jesse’s whole body was in motion – muscles constantly moving, fat bouncing; everything shifting in delicious, surprisingly elegant harmony…

God, but McCree was a gorgeous man – and he knew it, too, the vain bastard.

He was preening again when he came crawling back, head held high, thin black leash between his teeth, showing off his unusually sharp canines. He seemed to think he’d get away with everything, too – shoving his face right into Hanzo’s crotch and nosing against the large, wet spot there, his breath tantalizing and cool through the moist fabric as he snuffled eagerly.

Hanzo hissed, hands burying in the long, shaggy hair, pulling Jesse’s head back none too gently.

“Cheeky.”

He took the leash from Jesse and couldn’t help but smile at the plain happiness on the pup’s face.

He clipped the leash in at the front of Jesse’s collar before his pet could charm his way into getting his will after all.

.o.

“Good boy,” Hanzo murmured and, when Jesse pulled softly against his leash, sweat rolling down his temples, he curled the thin leather once more around his fist, forcing Jesse to bend down for him.

Like this, he was close enough for Hanzo to feel his warm breath, tongue lolling out dark red and wet, eyes large and friendly even as he ground down impatiently onto his Master’s thigh, trying desperately to come like this.

“Gorgeous,” Hanzo crooned, free hand lifting to the side of Jesse’s face, fingers carding into the long hair to pull it from the wet corner of his mouth and push it behind his ear – after all, his pet wasn’t allowed to use his hands once more; arms behind his back, biceps swelling with the unrelenting grip he had on his forearms, trying so hard for Hanzo not to lose patience and grab for his cock.

Hanzo pulled unrelentingly on the leash, watching Jesse’s pupils go dark with need, the tendons on his neck straining as he fought against the drag, so he wouldn’t topple over. His warm, humid balls dragged along the top of Hanzo’s thigh, swollen, pulsing cock rubbing against the dark hair beneath his belly button.

His whole body was working towards his goal; muscles bulging, belly heaving, thighs quivering in the constant half-crouch he was forced into, straddling Hanzo’s thigh, trying his hardest to get off and only managing to work himself up into a frenzy, thick pre-cum dribbling from his slit.

Jesse needed help getting off, and Hanzo was almost loathe to give it to him – the sight he made was too tempting; too pretty. He couldn’t get enough for the large body bending to his will; the faithful look in his eyes as they locked gazes.

In the end, though, it only needed Jesse suddenly dipping forward and softly dragging his tongue along Hanzo’s cheek for him to crumble and give his pet a hand; tweaking and pulling at his nipples, thigh lifting up into his desperate downward grind to help him drag his cock along his skin, wide hips moving, jerking, fucking against him while Hanzo made his tits into two points of delicious, agonizing pain.

He was howling by the end of it, wide-eyed and drenched in sweat, dark hair matting and sticking along his body as he looked almost fearful for a second; like he was scared that that terrible plateau of lust wouldn’t be broken this way – that he needed more than fingers pinching his tits and a thigh and belly to rut against.

When he came, it was almost silent; he hiccupped out a whine, body going rigid, joints locking against the waves crashing through him and tongue lolling with saliva dripping down the point of it. They looked down their bellies, watching McCree’s cock flex and jerk, coming so hard a few ropes of cum splashed against their heaving, sweaty bellies before it started tapering off and merely dribbled messy and copious down his shaft to soak into the hair at the base of his cock.

“My good boy,” Hanzo murmured – and huffed as Jesse slumped forward, unabashed in making him carry the substantial weight of his bulk.

“My lazy boy.”

meeh not at all happy with this one. I started it like 10 times over and it just didn’t want to flow 😦 I’m just not good at writing Zenyatta *lies down and sobs because Zenyatta is so fudging cute*

take this version tho.

When McCree bounced, his whole body was in motion – from the thick meat of his thighs over the generous curve of his ass to the pouch on his belly. Even his pecs jiggled if he got only fucked hard enough, large barrel chest heaving, shaggy head thrown back in ecstasy.

McCree was, all in all, a very pleasing human to look at. Zenyatta’s favorite, in fact. He loved witnessing McCree’s pleasure; the way he easily started sweating, ample body hair matting against his skin, breath coming in huge gulping, rattling gasps that shook his frame just as much as Hanzo’s arduous fucking.

Zenyatta was fascinated by him – couldn’t, in fact, keep his fingers from that delightful, sturdy frame, carefully carding warm metal digits through the thick hair on his quivering thighs, pinching the muscle and fat between them, or sliding over the jiggling flesh of his hips to the heave of his belly, pressing down with the palm of his hand to feel the resistance of those spring steel muscles beneath the soft exterior.

McCree was everything Zenyatta was not. He was without abandon; a huge man towering above many his compatriots, with a will of steel and yet so ready to bend down for their benefit, laughing the whole way; so ready to let himself get pushed onto his back, willingly opening his long legs and showing off the dark, furry crack of his ass – long, thick cock nearly second to the wild, intriguing tangle of his pubic hair.

He was wild and unkempt and absolutely unapologetic about it. He was impressive. So very, very… impressive –

And Zenyatta wished he had the sensors to enjoy him in all his glory. To be able to feel the crisp texture of his coarse body hair and smell the thick spice of his aftershave, or the…

“Damn… Hanzo,” he grunted, half laughing half exasperated, trying to accommodate the archer’s head as he shoved it beneath one impressive biceps, nuzzling into the thatch of dark hair there even as his hips kept pumping, twisting, snapping, McCree’s plush ass cushioning the thrusts with noisy slaps.

Zenyatta hummed, hand smoothing gently across Hanzo’s head, voice holding a note of longing as he cooed: “You love smelling him, don’t you?”

And McCree, over Hanzo’s low, delirious, assenting groan, just laughed at them. Deep, breathless belly laughs that had his body moving, brown, gentle eyes trying to peek at them.

“Ya’ll are crazy,” he drawled, roguish grin on his face melting into something softer, full with adoration as Zenyatta cradled his large head between his hands and leaned above him, nuzzling the his smooth faceplate against the wild, sweaty mess of his face.

“You are extraordinary,” he promised him solemnly, staying where he was to let him kiss sloppy and wet all over his golden chrome jaw and the seam on his faceplate. He couldn’t feel it, yet he loved it all the same.

He reached for one dark, oval nipple, tweaking it carefully with modulated strength. McCree was trapped between their bodies and seemed content to wait out whatever they had in store for him; his big, powerful body relaxed and lazy, long, thick cock lying on the cushion of his own pudgy belly, making a sticky mess out of the hair there.

Such a curious human being. So very, very pleasing.