“Shh, I’m going to keep you safe.” Mchanzo?

McCree eases the thumb off the button and hooks one arm around Hanzo’s chest, pulling him up – helping him ride out the shock of the seizing muscles.

“Shh,” he whispers into his ear, nosing stray strands of hair out of the way, “I’m going to keep you safe.”

It was maybe horrible of him to say it; especially considering what he was doing to Hanzo, but… it did have the desired effect: Hanzo calming down and carefully uncurling his cramped fingers. Jesse listens to him take a rattling, shuddering breath and presses a kiss against his sweaty temple before raising the baton again, pressing the tip into Hanzo’s side.

The man jerks preemptively, breath hitching audibly, hips jerking with his cock slapping wet and swollen against his lower belly – then Jesse pushes the button and the seizing starts all over again.

Hanzo is nearly silent as his muscles shiver out of his control. His head gets thrown back against Jesse’s shoulder. Foam starts building at the corners of his mouth, and Jesse coos at him the whole time – keeps him hugged tightly to his body while pressing the baton against his side.

“I got you,” he croons at him, hand travelling lower, taking a hold of Hanzo’s cock. He stops the stream of electricity just as abruptly as he started it. “I got you. Good boy. Yes, that’s a good boy right there.”

Hanzo has no control over his body. He is helpless to Jesse’s every whim and can only whine softly in the back of his throat when Jesse starts to jerk him off.

“Good boy,” he repeats, low and harsh, voice full of affection as he presses kisses against the side of Hanzo’s sweaty face and lets him come into the warm cup of his hand.

For the fic starts reaper76 “Come sit in my lap, pet.” Please.

Anonymous said: “ “Come sit in my lap, pet.” with reaper and morrison and milky tiddies plssss uwu”

Anonymous said: “ “Come sit in my lap, pet.” Reaper76, sub!Reaper”

“Come sit in my lap, pet.”

Jack was waving him closer with a hand, sitting a little straighter to show off the broad seat of his thighs.

Gabriel, in response, pulled his lips back from his teeth and honest to god snarled at him. He hunched his back, arms sullenly around his chest, protecting the swollen pecs. They looked full. Ripe. Jack’s mouth watered at the sight and he wondered why the hell Gabriel was being an obtuse little shit this time.

Sometimes, Gabriel didn’t need any reason, unfortunately.

“Come,” he says again, the smile from his face and his voice, eyes stern. Gabriel sneers back, the look in his eyes feverish and hateful before something changes and he practically squirms on the spot – suddenly shy.

The explosion of the base had damaged more than just his body. He was a volatile mix that Jack was too addicted to let go.

When he comes over, he does so with the air of a kicked puppy; slides into his lap with eyes big and brown – just like the nipples he offers up sweetly; holds one right in front of his waiting, greedy mouth.

“That’s better,” Jack rumbles. He can already smell the milk through Gabriel’s skin. “Good boy,” he purrs and holds him close; lets him carefully place his whole weight onto Jack’s thighs while he noses his way close; acquaints himself with those lovely tits again by licking the fat, swollen nipples before gently suckling them into his mouth.

Gabriel is nearly silent above him; only harsh breaths ruffling the hair on top of Jack’s head, big, muscled arms curled around his neck in an almost choke hold.

When he finally takes a drag and the first spray of watery milk fills his mouth, both of them jerk in surprise and need. Gabriel becomes heavier and more sweet the longer Jack nurses; cooing in low, gentle Spanish, hips rocking, eagerly offering the other tit when Jack has drunk his fill from the first one.

“Sweet pet,” Jack praises him roughly, milkdrunk and sated.

“I bet that hurt good, didn’t it darling?” With Gabriel and Lúcio??

“I bet that hurt good, didn’t it, darling?” Lúcio croons, hand stroking warm and soothing across the spot he slapped once, sharp. Gabriel is restless, knees moving apart, unconsciously showing off the swell of his heavy balls between his thighs, then closing them up again to present a better canvas for Lúcio to lay into.

Truth be told, he was used to different kinds and levels of pain during scenes. Still, the sudden slap had been startling enough to have him yip like a god damn dog.

“Can you settle down better now?” Lúcio asks, one hand still cupping the tingling spot on the back of his thigh, the other firm and grounding on his neck – keeping him down where he was lying across Lúcio’s lap.

He’d been petulant again; throwing himself ill-tempered across the boy’s lap after he’d been asked a few times, thinking this was fucking stupid. He was towering across the kid and wouldn’t even really fit on his lap. It would look ridiculous, he would look ridiculous – and he was deathly allergic against getting made fun of.

Lúcio had taken his weight without complain and had let him squirm around, dig elbows into his sides and huff in exaggerated annoyance for about five minutes before the slap had come; sudden and unexpected and startling him into a marble-like stillness.

“Again?” Lúcio asks softly, the hand on the nape of Gabriel’s neck moving, sliding down the slope of his back before returning and gripping him again when Gabriel made a low, grunting sound of distress. “Shh. I got you. You want it again?”

Gabriel grunts. Lifts his ass. His face burns in embarrassment and he hates it. He hates that he feels so dumb and ridiculous and that tears are stinging at his eyelids from just one little baby slap. He’s had harder. A lot harder. He’s had things this little boy could never –

“You need to tell me with words. Do you want one more?”

He bites his lip bloody before exchanging it for the fabric of Lúcio’s bermuda shorts. (Always the same ridiculous fucking shorts.) Lúcio let him and waited patiently for his answer.

Gabriel finally caves, spitting out his answer like a curse.

“Yes. Please. Fuck.” He curses just for good measure. Lúcio chuckles and lifts his hand again.

“Good boy.”

“Did that hurt? Want Papi to make you feel better?” McReyes please?

Reyes slowly rounds his pet, the thud of his combat boots heavy and deliberate. Jesse is panting with an open mouth, drooling from the tip of his lolling tongue, body shaking and sweating.

His belly is still clenching every now and then, hard enough to make his back curve up. He hasn’t quite gotten over the instinctual need to curl up and shield himself, yet – but Reyes was quite sure he’ll soon get there. They all did, eventually.

When he crouches down in front of McCree, he can see him try and sneak a little glance up at him through the oily fringe of hair, before he jerks and looks down. A dog that learned his lesson not to aggravate his superior.

Reyes gently clucks with his tongue, big, rough hands cradling McCree’s face, lifting it up.

“Did that hurt? Want Papi to make you feel better?” he croons, thick fingers rubbing across Jesse’s cheekbones.

He can see the panic entering the almost vacant gaze; sluggish brain starting to work overtime as he tries to figure out what that might mean. He’s a quick learner, this new recruit.

McCree shifts, winces, stays carefully still. The humbler is holding his balls tightly in place; keeps them tight and presented for Reyes to play with, like, say, a slap of those very hands lovingly cupping the kid’s face.

For a second McCree looks like he’s going to break apart and start bawling – the simple question obviously too much for his overworked mind. When he finally whispers, “Yes, please, Papi,” his voice is cracking wildly like that of a teen.

Such a tender boy, still. A killer – but a lovable one.

Reyes smirks and gives him another rub of his thumb across his cheek before he leans down and presses a kiss against the corner of Jesse’s mouth.

“Good boy,” he breathes – and McCree vibrates with sudden pride and sick, fervent love, even as Reyes gets back up and rounds him again. He had to admit he was… fond, of the brat. He would be a good fighter. A loyal one.

When he crouches down behind Jesse once more, he realizes the boys cock is bobbing softly; chubbed and half-hard in nervous arousal. Oh… this was going to be good.

“Why don’t you make the two of us some tea?” + mchanzo/reaper76 + service kink/lingerie >:)

“Why don’t you make the two of us some tea?” Hanzo asks mildly, and watches with satisfaction as McCree’s face melts from uneasy apprehension into quiet, thankful bliss.

He nods and gets up from his knees, big hands with hairy knuckles smoothing down the front of the skirt of his little maid uniform.

Hanzo sits at the window, like a lord, hair loose and yukata askew as he smokes his thin pipe and admires the view of McCree in the tiny kitchenette; how hulking his broad, bulky body looks as he handles the utensils and hums softly under his breath.

Nothing offensive – just a mindless tune that is just as ingrained in this ritual as Hanzo’s regal tranquility.

When Jesse comes back, he kneels next to Hanzo pretty as a flower, the saucer with teacup held in his hands.

“Thank you,” Hanzo murmurs and lifts the cup – lets McCree hold the saucer as long as it takes for him to finish enjoying the beverage. He thinks he’ll make McCree straighten the room a little after this. Maybe have him clean beneath the bed so his ass is in the air; easy for Hanzo to flip his skirt up and discover all anew that McCree was going commando beneath; cock and balls hanging freely for the taking.

Yes… A good way to spend a peaceful Sunday. He rather liked the idea.

Hanzo/McCree + “Don’t cover your face, I want to see you.” + overstimulation/cryinggg

McCree was grunting with every sharp, rattling thrust, shaggy eyebrows drawn together in concentration, eyes slanting over to the side every now and then to watch the picture they made in the big mirror.

He had always liked watching himself fuck; he was hedonistic enough to flex his ass for his own benefit or reach up and tug at his own hair just for the sensation and to stare at the dark hair curling in his sweaty pit.

He knew how he looked and he found nothing wrong in enjoying that himself.

With Hanzo, he had another pretty thing to look at, though; especially now as he was helpless to take every twisting, grinding thrust McCree gave him, hands pathetically holding on to his own cock, face flushed and liquid eyes staring up at Jesse in dumb animal arousal.

He’d given Hanzo quite the rodeo already; fucked him on the fingers of his prosthetic hand, and then with a vibrator – just because he wanted to, and because he loved being able to take Hanzo whenever he wanted; in the communal showers, in the back of the chopper, on the roof of the base…

Hanzo never denied him.

He twists his hips again, watches Hanzo’s Adam’s apple bob, and grins sharply. “Gorgeous slut. You love taking cock, yeah? Bet you were real big hit with your goons back in the day. All of ‘em ridin’ the pretty little heir, right?”

Hanzo’s mouth fall opens, eyes widening. For a second he looks like he can’t understand how Jesse possibly could know… and then he flushes – actually fucking flushes in embarrassment and shyness and presses his hands in front of his face. Childish.

Jesse’s mouth becomes dry and his hips stutter to a stop. He is balls deep in the silky heat and can only stare at the tips of Hanzo’s burning ears.

“Oh, darlin’,” he croons when he finally finds his voice again, cock flexing in the tight confines and making Hanzo shiver beneath him. “Don’t cover your face. I want to see you. God damn little whore. Fuck yeah.”

Oh oh oh! Zarya x Junkrat: “Sneaky little one! When did you think of surprising me like this?”

“Sneaky little one! When did you think of surprising me like this?”

Junkrat starts immediately a shrill, manic giggle which he tries to stifle in the crook of one arm without much luck – it keeps bubbling out. Zarya smiles indulgently. Most of the sounds Junkrat makes were anything but pleasant but she loved knowing he was having fun, either way.

Especially when he was vulnerable like this; prosthetics shoved over the edge of the bed and out of sight; surprising her with his short, flailing limbs and naked, delectable body after he faux-fought with her over the blanket before letting her pull it away.

“You want me to play with you?” she coos, kneeling on the edge of the bed slowly. She grins when her boy immediately shrieks and kicks at her without intent of hurting, wriggling and pulling out of her lax grasp whenever she reaches for him.

He wants to play and she has more than enough time to indulge.

For the prompt thing – “What a pretty blush.” – Ana/Mercy, early overwatch days!

“What a pretty blush,” Ana purrs, voice pitched deep, eyes friendly and warm as they roam across Angela’s body. She looks gorgeous, sitting in the big chair behind Ana’s desk, skinny legs draped across the arms, showing off her pinkish cunt – spreading the plump lips with long fingers.

She’s only doing it for Ana’s benefit – because Ana asked her to do it – and the knowledge made her feel even more fond of her little pet; how she aimed to please even though it embarrassed her so horribly, blush getting deeper and more pronounced the longer Ana watches with interest.

“The door is not locked,” Ana says softly, leans against the side of the desk so Angela is in full view of the entrance. She smiles when Angela’s breath hitches and her little breasts bounce high on her chest. “You’re going to keep going, though, right? Even if it were to open? Would keep touching your little peach just for me?”

Angela bites her lips, eyes slanting away – demure and unsure just as much as shyly determined.

“Yes, Ma’am,” she whispers, blonde hair falling into her sweaty face. Her blush has reached her belly, and Ana knows, if she just plays with her peach long enough, it’ll become just as deliciously red and swollen.

“Start, baby girl.”

“You’re so beautiful, all spread out like this, just for me.” With McHanzo, either regular or your Mob Boss AU, God bless

“You’re so beautiful, all spread out like this, just for me.”

Genji wasn’t there to hear him coo, and Hanzo made the most out of it. The dog was shivering against the wooden cross, drooling around his bit and glancing towards the dark window across from him with an uncharacteristically shy flush.

“You figured it already out, didn’t you?” Hanzo reaches out, plucks at the piercing through one dark nipple and watches McCree’s cock lift obediently; filling out even though he squirms and whines into the gag in vague protest. “Of course you did. You have those screens in America as well.”

He slants a gaze towards the dark mirror behind which a few of his guards stand; watching him play with his pet. He reaches down and curls a hand around McCree’s swelling cock; lifts it so they can appraise the meaty girth and length of it; then reaches even farther and lifts the dark, ripe balls beneath. Shows him off like the dog he is.

“You don’t need to fret. They only get to watch. I want to show off how obedient Americans can be…”

He glances up at McCree; still so young beneath the deceptive scruff of his beard.

His eyes are huge and wet, flicking towards the window again and again, teeth grit into the bit Hanzo so likes to see him in.

Hanzo reaches up, plucks at the ample chest hair, idly cards his fingers through for the viewing benefit of his guards, then steps to the side and turns his back towards the dark mirror, face tilting up towards McCree, lips softening from their cruel twist into a more fond smile.

“You want to show them how pretty you are for me, don’t you?” he purrs, and pinches McCree’s foreskin closed around the swelling head of his dick when the dog nods slowly, eyes going heavy lidded and needy even though he tries to twist his hips away and shield his body from the gazes he could probably feel.

“Good dog.”

ch4tte
replied to your post “Idk if you’d wanna write this but. Please think about Dva teasing s76…”

unf i love how out of it 76 is

I know, right? he’d be sitting there staring at the TV with the most focused expression. Like it’s a mission debriefing and not the 800th time My Little Mermaid.

Just sitting very still and not moving a muscle while D.Va jerks him off slowly. Half way through she pretends to have lost one of her bracelets and dives down under the blanket to breathe warm and wet on his cock and maybe give him a little kiss.

He almost jack-knifes off the couch and swallows his tongue. His cock is pulsing and he makes a sound that’s so sharp and high that the others don’t even associate it with him – just look around in confusion.

He is sweating bullets, fucking scrabbling beneath the blanket, feeling pure, unadulterated terror as he realizes he’s about to come right onto her face and there’s nothing he can do to stop it because he’s not allowed to touch his cock other than to piss.

When D.Va’s mean little hand is there on his balls and digs her fingernails in again and pulls on them, he is fucking thankful. Like he’ll kiss her feet later and lick her toes and let her … oh god. oh fuck you peeps. here it goes, here it comes here iT COMES HOLY POOP FINALLY THE BEGINNING.

So he is so thankful he’ll let her put him in a pretty pink skirt and let her paint his nails and trim his greying pubes until they’re a cute little heart shape just above his cock.

“You’re such a pretty lady, aren’t you?” she coos, hand around her candy pink cock, jerking it and letting him watch how she handles it. “Bet you were real famous with the guys back in the day, eh?”

She crawls between his feet and tugs on the hair at his thighs until his cock flexes and drools a thin sticky stream against his heaving belly. He stares at her, mouth open, slack, helpless as his eyes roam across her body. Her small breasts are moving with her motions; bouncing as much as the little bit of fat they possess allow and he fantasizes about how perfect they would fit in his mouth. How he could suck them in and lave his tongue across those big, soft areolas.

Her bush is visible even above the harness she donned; unkempt and wild – not like she treated him; making him pretty and grooming him just like she wanted to.

He wonders how she’ll sound when he lets his hand slide across her soft, chubby belly and breathe against the fluffy hair in her pits. He wants her to squirm for him and mewl and beg for his cock –

And then he jerks because she slapped him; slapped his hand and caught his cock with the sharp tips of her nails because she didn’t give a damn and he had been touching what was hers without even noticing.

“You don’t know how to work that thing,” she chides, shuffling forward, nudging her candy pink cock against his balls. “Just let me show you. You don’t know the first about pleasing a lady, so I’ll have to show you. Don’t I?”

“I…” his belly clenches, a denial close to his lips. His cock burns from the slap and his painted nails are digging into the bedding because he is close to coming. He feels like he’s going out of his mind, head feeling fuzzy and hot. “Yes.”

“Yes – what?”

She is nudging against his hole; slippery with lube and barely prepared by her small fingers. He isn’t worried; her cock is slim enough – but for the most part he trusts her implicitly.

“Y-You know better than I.”

She smiles. A radiant, happy grin as she starts to rock into him; giving him little bits of her dick.

“I like you better like this,” she coos at him when she’s gotten into it – really started having a rhythm with which she could comfortably fuck him. Her hands are slapping his thighs and squeezing his ass, and she’s having fun with flipping his skirt up and down over his leaking cock, trying to decide which look she liked better on him. “Lying and taking it is easier. You can do that, at least.”

She is nudging against his prostate and watches him squirm and get brick red. He is scrabbling at anything and everything he can reach and trying to stay quiet as long as possible – until it is not possible anymore and he breaks down; begs her for the permission to touch his cock, to clamp down on it, to let him try and keep his orgasm at bay; and in the end howling and begging for the permission to come on her cock.

“You wanna come? Come like a little whore on my pretty dick?”

“Yes, please, please, oh god please!” He is holding on by the skin of his teeth, his cock dark and swollen and getting the glossy fabric of his skirt sticky.

“No,” she purrs and listens to him sob hysterically and loud – not censoring himself like usual. She wonders who can hear them.