10th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 7th Fill

Zarya/76/Gabriel – femdom; pegging; praise kink; body/muscle appreciation; manhandling – Zarya is still so young but she’s got those two old men wrapped around her fingers.

Gabriel makes like pulling away, but only so that Zarya has to curl her big hand around his ankle and pull him back down the bed with a kind of ease that has his stomach tied in knots and the good Soldier’s mouth drop open while he palms his cock.

Zarya chuckles, curling an arm around one of Gabriel’s massive thighs and manhandling him until he’s on his side, leg helplessly hooked around the bend of her elbow.

“How naughty,” she purrs at him. She shuffles closer, fingers of her other hand tickling his well-lubed hole. “Somebody is yearning for a bit of rough, mayhaps?”

Gabriel scowls fiercely but his already dark cheeks are going even darker with a flush. His brown eyes are glittering as he looks back at her, glancing at the strong line of her jaw to the wide set of her shoulders. He stares at her biceps, and quickly looks away again – caught looking – when she flexes for him.

Zarya hums and shuffles closer. She has a gorgeous cock strapped on for them; long and a bit fatter than usual, though not as girthy as what either of them has packing.

She takes herself in hand and starts dragging the mostly featureless tip against the nice little snatch Gabriel has offered up before nerves got to him and he tried to be cheeky.

The good Soldier is watching from the sidelines, gloriously naked and cock in hand; eyes travelling as much across Gabriel’s thick, meaty muscles as they are tracing Zarya and her effortless dominance she reigns over them.

They’ve sparred beforehand just to feel how easily she can put the old men on their back. Maybe spread their legs and push their knees up to their shoulders just to humiliate them; let them see how her youth and strength can overpower them and make them her bitches.

They’re all sweaty and pungent; and while they are fighting against a gentle, lazy kind of lethargy, Zarya looks like she’s just begun.

She straddles the leg still stretched out on the bed, hooks Gabriel’s leg across her shoulder to have her arms free, then pushes in. Her tits sway with the motion and both men immediately stare at them.

She’s got a scar slashed across her right breast, nearly hitting her nipple. She does not look like a mom, but they both want to nurse anyway.

Zarya is surprisingly nurturing. Maybe she just gets off on making them feel smaller than they are. More helpless than they are. Jack does not quite know, nor does he care.

Gabriel sighs as she starts to easily fuck him, and Jack startles when her hand curls around his ankle, not unlike she did moments before with Gabriel, and easily pulls him closer across the already rumpled sheets.

He could kick at her and try to squirm away, but it would be futile. The thought excites him inordinately and by the glazed, needy look on Gabriel’s face, he feels the same.

They are nothing but Zarya’s toy boys and… it feels good. She manhandles him until he’s where she wants him; stretched out next to her other boy close enough that she can curl her wide palm around his cock. She has big hands, but they are still pretty looking. She likes painting her nails in bright, happy colors.

Jack has his hands unthinkingly curled against his shoulders, looking up at Zarya with heavy lidded eyes and breathing deeply. Zarya glances at him, and her face goes all soft and warm.

“Little kitten,” she purrs and he flushes dark and humiliated. He is old enough to be her father, but something about this woman makes him feel small and helpless… but protected.

She stems them around if she wants to, but he’s yet to have her actually hurt any of them. He does not think she has it in her.

Zarya leans forward some, squeezing Jack’s cock as she picks up her pace. Gabriel stretches for her and bares his throat, groaning deep in his chest when her cock slides deep and easy. Jack could lean forward and bite at his shoulders and neck. Lick at his salt-and-pepper beard.

But he can’t take his eyes off of Zarya’s swaying tits and the hard muscles of her belly, visibly contracting with every thrust forward.

She has a gorgeous cunt hidden beneath the harness she’s wearing. It’s cute and small, hidden beneath a downy soft thatch of garishly dyed pubes. It’s kept just as meticulously perfect as the rest of her body. Maybe she’ll open her thick thighs for them later. Let them fuck her slow and easy, or eat her out with their noses buried in her pink hair.

She’s easy for them; stroking their egos by coming quick and beautiful with little incentive given. It’s the only testament to her youth; to how she’s been shunned by weak boys who were intimidated by her. Her body is deliciously sensitive and they love exploiting it. Have her thighs nearly bust their skulls when she loses control and comes so hard she almost squirts.

They are very determined to make up for lost time.

“You are such good boys today,” she purrs, her accent getting their nipples tight and excited. They’ve been primed to her voice to an embarrassing degree. “I don’t think at all you want to play rough today. I think you want to be good boys that get treats…”

Gabriel groans and throws one arm across his eyes so it’s harder for them to see his flush. Jack breathes deeply and nods quick and a bit overeager when Zarya looks questioningly at him. Then she smiles.

10th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 6th Fill

McHanzo – rape tw; faux beasitality; cow!McCree – Jesse turns the tables on Hanzo and Hanzo is a sick fuck that loves it.

Maybe it is because of Jesse’s gentle, sometimes even downright lazy disposition that Hanzo had not thought much of precautions. Of course he’s heard the tales of farmers getting overpowered by their amorous cattle, but… well.

He’d always fancied himself as being the one who mounts… not the one being pressed down by considerable weight, struggling not to be crushed beneath his cow while Jesse very determinedly fucks against him and gets the backs of his thighs slippery with whatever liquid his cock is so generously producing.

Maybe somewhere in the dull head it had occurred to Jesse that being mounted by his farmer whenever he pleased was not something he desired. Or Hanzo’s incessant rutting into his buttery soft hole had awakened the cow’s lustful side, though he’d never shown as much, preferring to keep munching on whatever’s in front of his nose.

Whatever it had been, it didn’t matter much now; not when Hanzo has to taste his own medicine and be mounted and fucked by his cow without a consideration for his own desires.

As he scrambles at the side of the barn, trying to find some way to place his hands and at least brace himself against Jesse’s heavy weight, it occurs to him, that he is effectively being raped by his own goddamn cow.

And that he is turned on by it to a sickening degree. He is panting already, heavy and wet, his cock straining against the front of his overalls als he whispers – very quiet and not forceful at all – “No.. don’t… you can’t…”

Jesse, of course, does not understand. He is single minded. His cock is hard and he wants a nice warm hole to stick it into, and he thinks this warm hole might just be found between his farmer’s now trembling legs.

Every now and then the silky hot head of Jesse’s long dick is brushing the back of Hanzo’s knee, and he gets nauseous with how much he wants that thing rammed into him.

He wishes the short pants of his overalls were wide enough to just tug them to the side, but as is, they stretch tight around his thick thighs.

So he has to fumble with the fastenings one handed, whispering “wait wait wait…” when Jesse starts becoming impatient and shoves himself farther up his back. Everything is hot and heavy and Hanzo can barely think through the fog in his head.

Finally, his overall slides down more or less. He stands in an awkward half-crouch, overall bunched around mid-thighs, naked safe for the rubber boots he has donned. No underwear, of course, because Hanzo is a dirty cow fucker that likes having access whenever the mood strikes, and his own whorishness makes his cock surge and dribble.

Jesse is still rutting, fucking, trying to find the hole – and when he suddenly finds it, he *pushes*.

Hanzo cries out when the cow tries to force his way into a hole way too small, tears springing up in his eyes.

“No…no…” he whispers half-heartedly, one trembling hand travelling down. Jesse’s next thrust has him collapsing against the side of the barn, cheek mashed into the rough wood. He gets his hand around his dick while he tries to shuffle his legs farther apart. Make more room for the fat cock spreading him open. He can’t make more room, effectively hobbled by his own overall.

Getting raped by his own cow against the side of his barn and loving every second of it. His insides feel painfully hot; like Jesse is fucking fire into his belly.

From behind he can only hear the animalistic grunts of the cow; feel the slobber dripping against the nape of his neck and sliding down between his shoulder blades.

Jesse jerks forward, fucking deeper into Hanzo’s belly, and the farmer sobs, coming in a long, hard spasm that makes his knees almost buckle.

Jesse fucks slow and clumsy. He does not really rut; just pushes himself deeper and deeper, the exertion clear as he pants hot and wet into Hanzo’s ear. Only when he’s stuffed all of his cock into his belly does he groan long and drawn out. Stops all his movements and just lays on Hanzo’s back while his cock seems to do its own thing; flexing and swelling and strangely moving inside Hanzo’s abused guts.

Hanzo’s legs are shaking. Jesse is heavy and makes him bear all of his weight. He sees him as nothing but a warm hole to inseminate, and it shows.

Hanzo wonders blearily whether this will happen again and again from now on. Jesse turning the tables on them and fucking him whenever his mood strikes. Hanzo can feel his cock jerking again in his slippery grip. Copious amounts of fluid are dripping out of his raw, fucked-out hole as he fantasizes about becoming his cow’s little fuck doll.

Making sure he’s wearing clothes that can be shoved aside for easy access…

He is sick, sick, sick, sick. This should not be so hot. This should not make him shoot of a second time already, splattering the dusty ground between his boots with his cum.

He shouldn’t get off so hard on being raped by his cow; but he is.

10th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 5th Fill

McReyes – demons; massive cock; blood; watersports – Jesse thinks he can be sneaky about what he wants. Gabriel shows him that he is not… and that he might have bitten off more than he can chew.

Jesse is still young for a demon and Gabriel is just lenient enough to let him get away with a lot of shit, but even he has his limits.

Like when he can feel the insidious tendrils of Jesse’s lust licking at his consciousness as he’s getting scolded for his gluttony regarding the humans. Gabriel’s eyes narrow, his tail lashing through the air in agitation, and Jesse’s grin becomes a bit nervous as he stands up a tad straighter.

He’s been caught and he knows it.

Gabriel uncrosses his legs and stands, talons digging into the ground.

“I guess you need a more… hands-on demonstration of who is in charge here…”

Jesse does not quite cower back, but he winces. He does not look too happy but his cock is already interested – no surprise there; Jesse is an insatiable incubus – and curves up towards his belly by the time Gabriel his made his way down, towering over him by a good head.

He reaches out and digs one clawed hand into Jesse’s hair, pulling his head back and peering into his face from above, his glowing eyes narrowing in consideration.

“Has it been a mistake, making you into one of mine?” he muses. Jesse’s face twists and he shakes his head as well as he can while other demons start rounding them with interest. While Gabriel still stares at him, he can feel a curious brush of fingers against his inhumanly big cock. It looks sleek to the eye, but of course Jesse’s clever hands find one of the many ridges in no time, teasing his fingertip beneath.

Gabriel’s nostrils flare and he rips Jesse’s head farther back until he is forced to go onto his knees.

“Incorrigible slut,” he hisses but Jesse is a natural at what he’s doing and it might just be a compliment to him.

It occurs to him, halfway through forcing his cock down the incubus’ throat, that this might have been just what Jesse has been angling for. He’s a slut and he’s greedy, and those human cocks can’t even hope to satisfy him and fill his belly the way he needs it.

Right now he looks as ecstatic as can be, eyes glistening, gurgling and choking as the cock is rammed down his throat where it would do irreparable damage to a lesser life form. As is, Jesse’s body can just about adjust; make himself into a living, breathing cock sleeve for his master’s entertainment.

Gabriel wishes this was a more effective punishment, but he has a soft spot for Jesse. He is cunning and uninhibited. A perfect little demon… if he would just follow orders as was expected of him.

Gabriel has him between his legs, fucking down into his throat, into his belly, feeling beneath his sharp claws how grotesquely the other demon’s throat is bulging around the massive cock splitting him open. He gurgles every time Gabriel pulls back and the frills along his shaft flare open; and when Gabriel finally pulls out, he can feel Jesse’s teeth scrape deliciously against each and every single one when they get caught behind them inevitably.

He mounts him, then; still not satisfied now that he’s been roused. It is difficult, usually, to get him to rise to any bait, but Jesse usually manages it without fail just through sheer insolence. The *daring* of trying to put his superior under his thrall.

Jesse howls when he fucks into him. He claws at the dirty ground, trying to crawl back off his cock, but Gabriel grabs him at his leathery wings and pulls him back unto the dick ruining his insides. Blood is spilling, but that is only making it *better*. They all love the smell of blood. The taste of it. And around them, the lesser demons are getting excited, drawing closer as Gabriel lays into Jesse, using his wings as makeshift leads to pull him onto his dick again and again.

It does not take long for the incubus to get into it. He’s still whining and sniffling about the rough treatment but he can’t deny that his belly is full. That Gabriel damn near wears him like a suit. Gabriel conjures mirrors, watching Jesse’s belly bulge from every angle; watching his cock bob and dribble into the sand beneath them.

“Not so rough,” Jesse demands, voice a bit weepy, trying to twist away. Gabriel takes his wings into one hand to have the other free, digging sharp claws into the small of his back as his tail lashes behind him.

“You get what I give you,” he growls, voice deeper; more hellish. His balls hit Jesse with meaty slaps; they are full to the brim, promising to fill Jesse up until it’ll dribble back out his nose, and Jesse seems to slowly realize that as well. He squirms more. He pants like a slut on his dick, but he’s also subtly trying to get away.

Only when Gabriel’s tail comes forward, the sharp tip of it teasing at Jesse’s bloody hole, trying to force its way inside, does the other demon finally give up.

His hot piss hits the ground in a hard stream. He whimpers pathetically, putting his face into the dirt; groveling, pissing himself, begging for mercy like one of the lesser demons around them would have done.

Hoping against hope that Gabriel will have mercy on him. It would not be much of a lesson, though, if Gabriel wouldn’t make it *memorable*.

10th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 4th Fill

McCree/Hanzo – age difference; NONCON/DUBCON; victim blaming; slut shaming; forced impregnation – McCree probably has twenty kids in ten different states. He does not know exactly; he usually just fucks then leaves.

(McCree calls Hanzo a kid a lot but Hanzo is in fact early/mid twenties)

McCree lets his hands wander; up Hanzo’s shins over his knees and to his thighs where he squeezes tight until the young man jerks on his hips.

McCree grins slowly, rolling his hips up once to jostle the kid a little and get him to squeal before he becomes impassive again and lets him clumsily do his thing.

“There you go,” he drawls, playing the deepness and smoothness of his voice up because he’s figured out minutes into their acquaintance that this little pussycat loves listening to him. Hanzo’s nipples become deliciously tight in response. Jesse can play him like a fiddle and he’s not known him for more than a few hours. “Knew you’d be a natural. Not that hard once you get going, hm?”

He shoves his hands farther, rounds the trim young man and grips at his ass. Pulls the cheeks apart until he makes a beautiful little sound and topples forward, just-so bracing himself on McCree’s wide, hairy chest.

“Ah…ah… n-no…”

He’s been haughty and prissy before, but they all cave to a big dick sooner or later. Especially if it’s their first one.

“You love the stretch, don’t you? You take it like a professional.”

The kid is shaking his head but his body says differently. The tight clutch of his little hole is delicious around Jesse’s cock; silky and trembling. It’s almost like he can feel his rapid heart beat around his dick and that’s quite something.

Tight pretty boy just for him to ruin.

To *breed*. The thought alone makes his cock surge and Hanzo, sensitive bitch that he is, moans weakly. He’s still bend over, his face close to Jesse.

He can see the kid’s wet lips tremble as he carefully keeps riding him. He pretends he does not like being called a cockslut but the truth is blatantly obvious. Jesse is not sure why it took him so long until someone put him on their dick but he’s not complaining. He wants to be the first to root around in his hot, trembling insides, and he wants to be the first to get him fat and heavy.

Get ‘em knocked up before leaving town; though he can feel himself wanting to stay with this one a little longer. Even if just to see how goot he’s given it to him.

It’s been so easy to convince him to do it without condom in the first place (“‘M gonna pull out before, babydoll. Don’t worry. Just c’mere. Show me that pretty cunt you got…”). He’s been too greedy for cock; too excited to get his little fingers around the fat dick McCree showed him.

“Gonna shoot off, soon,” Jesse murmurs and Hanzo’s whines go a bit more high-pitched, the red on his cheeks intensifiying.

“You’re going to… y-you’re going to pull out, right?” He can barely string the words together. His cock is looking painfully hard, the tip a deep ruddy red. He’s close to coming from nothing but Jesse’s dick because any time he tried to reach for his cock, he’s grabbed at his wrists and pulled them away.

Better start training them as soon as possible.

“Yeah, sure…” he drawls, a grin spreading on his cheeks, easy and self-assured. It’s cute when the kid comes; he mewls prettily, his mouth hanging open, insides squeezing down on Jesse… and he is kitten weak, helpless to being flipped over, legs spread wide as McCree grabs him by the ankles and starts pounding into him, sweat beading on his forehead.

Hanzo cries out with every sharp thrust; over sensitive, though his cock does not seem to want to stop dribbling come.

“Gonna shoot, babydoll,” Jesse grunts, orgasm brewing in his pelvis, the thought of having molded this unused bitch on his cock just adding to the pleasure. He imagines shooting deep into him; feeding his womb directly so no matter how deep he sticks the fucking shower head there’s no way he’ll get all of his cream out.

“Pull out,” Hanzo whines, his dark eyes glassy, cock still drooling, and it occurs to McCree that he is *still coming* like a good little slut.

“No way, babe. Can’t do. Not now.”

He pounds him through it, using the kid’s fucked-out weakness to grab his hands when they start hitting him without coordination and pushing them above his head. Pinning him down with his girth he grinds his dick deep until he imagines he can feel knocking on that snug little opening to his womb.

Hanzo gasps and grinds out a litany of ‘nonono’s and then Jesse is coming, shooting off deep into that warm, welcoming body. Distantly he hears the kid gurgling, legs twitching and jerking as he comes *again*.

Comes from his own forceful impregnation like the slut he is.

McCree rides the euphoric high until it finally abates, then rolls off of him with a grunt. He stares at the dumfounded face and grins sleepily, patting Hanzo’s flat belly.

“Been a good lay. Want some money?”

He figures the kid must be poor or something. He’s picked him up in a dingy bar; though he had smelled nice enough. Hanzo just stares at him, the flush high on his cheeks, seemingly shocked into silence from what just happened.

McCree grunts and digs in his pocket. He pulls out a crumpled dollar bill and tucks it into the kid’s used-up hole to stave off the lazy trickle of cum. He pats Hanzo’s leg and starts putting on his things. He needs a drink before he’s going to fuck him again. He’s pretty sure the kid will be up for a second round; he does not look like he entirely hated it.

He has no idea Hanzo is the heir of an old Yakuza clan.

10th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 3rd Fill

McCree/Hanzo – beta!Hanzo; Omega!McCree; slutty McCree; humiliation; belittling – McCree is a sloppy whore and Hanzo can appreciate that after some struggling.

Hanzo has his arms slung around McCree’s sturdy hips, his face smearing between his shoulder blades as he gives it his all, fucking into him fast and sharp until his crotch and the tops of this thighs are wet with slick and lewd squelching sounds are filling the room.

Despite his desperate humping, McCree does not seem much more than vaguely entertained, however. He has his head pillowed on his thick, hairy forearms; off to the side so he can still nurse on his cigar.

His insides are feverishly hot around Hanzo’s cock, muscles butter soft and hugging his dick, and it makes him nearly go cross-eyed. As a beta, he’s never had an opportunity to fuck an Omega. Most are not particularly interested, and his sex-drive is not the highest anyway, but this…

McCree had offered, casual as always, his positively fat thighs falling open ridiculously easy. Showing himself off to an appalled Hanzo whose first instinctive reaction had been to decline despite the obvious and instantaneous bulge in his sweatpants.

He’s come around quickly enough, however; asking McCree through gritted teeth if he’s still up for the offer, and McCree, true to his usual easy-going nature had simply grunted and rolled onto his knees, pulling his own ratty pants down.

Not very romantic, but definitely appreciated. Hanzo got the feeling that he’s not the only Beta McCree had let mount up. He probably could’ve been used as a show pony in front of a class for all Hanzo know. He would’ve enjoyed it,too… in his own lazy, roundabout way.

Through his own panting, loud and obnoxious and a bit ragged sounding, he almost misses McCree sighing. His muscles shift as he stretches beneath the Beta working away at him, then turns his head a bit and grins at him around his cigar just as sloppily as the hole he’s offered up.

“Damn, love ‘em Beta dicks,” he drawls (infuriatingly calm, still, barely a blush on his cheeks), and before Hanzo can even start to preen he continues: “Could fuck a dozen before getting sore.”

Hanzo’s hips stutter, cock surging despite the immediate explosion of indignation in his chest.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he hisses, pushing himself up so he can stare down his nose at the Omega. McCree does not seem alarmed at all. He simply lets his knees slide apart until Hanzo’s cock slips from the loose mess of his hole and he is comfortably on his belly.

Apparently being up on his knees has been nothing but a courtesy to Hanzo hanging onto him and rabbit fucking away.

“Nothin’,” he yawns. Hanzo can see the side of his face; relaxed and calm despite his cock being at least nice and fat from the Beta’s ministrations. Hanzo is grabbing at his dick – drenched in Omega slick – and staring at him dismayed until McCree relents and mutters: “They’re sleek. Takes a while until you even feel ‘em. But they make a nice burn happen.”

Anger and humiliation burns through Hanzo’s veins as he lets himself fall on top of McCree. It is not difficult for his cock to find the butter soft slit he’s offering up so generously – whorishly – to just about any dick that’s walking his way. He does not even have to guide it in; it slips into McCree as easy as anything, and Hanzo would like to think that it is that that makes McCree go ‘oof’ but he knows that it is more likely his sudden weight on the Omega’s back.

“Lazy bastard!” he hisses at him, hand grabbing at McCree’s hair, pulling his head back roughly as he starts pounding him again. The position is a bit awkward; not suited for a punishing rhythm, but he somehow makes it work.

“Can feel me now?” Hanzo can feel himself wanting to go cross-eyed. The Omega’s pheromones are overpowering; thick, stinking the place up and making it difficult to breathe.

“Yeah,” McCree says, but it sounds like he’s amused; like he is humoring the silly Beta that’s trying so badly to fuck him into submission. Hanzo growls, but it has nothing of the deep reverb of an Alpha, and McCree goddamn *coos* at him.

Hanzo is upset and angry but also still disturbingly *horny*. He clenches his jaw until it hurts. He bites at McCree’s round shoulders, but whatever reaction McCree can dredge the inspiration up to display always feels like a far bigger animal humoring whatever little babe has toddled its way.

Hanzo remembers, as he works away, trying to fuck some kind of genuine, distressed reaction out of the Omega, how distasteful he had found him when arriving at the watchpoint.

Those thoughts of McCree being nothing but an Omega whore that is willing to offer his sloppy, fucked-out body up to anybody. Who wouldn’t mind if one of the younger Alphas spread his legs as he slept and just mounted up.

He remembers his disgust at realizing that those slutty offers were obviously not only for Alphas but just about anybody on base. How he thought that McCree’s behaviour was just dishonorable.

…How that disgust had quickly, and insidiously morphed into an almost sick fascination, and a deep neediness to be included into that large circle of people that McCree would just let mount up and fuck their energy out into the too-welcoming hole he’s so generous with.

And just like that, his anger dissipates, just leaving a strange mix of humiliation and lust in its wake as his sharp thrusts become less punishing and more loose hipped again.

McCree has been offering himself up of his own free will and Hanzo had accepted is the bottom line of it.

McCree hums beneath him. He sounds sleepy, like he’s going to snore any minute while Hanzo is working his cock into him. He probably wouldn’t mind if he put a load into him while he was out cold, and the thought makes him burn hotter.

There is something delicious in the humiliation he feels. Knowing that McCree could barely even feel him in the loose gape of his hole until he finally managed to warm him up enough.

There’s nothing false about McCree. He’s a whore, a slut, a loose Omega; but he thrives in it, and Hanzo can respect that.

10th Ko-Fi Batch: 2nd Fill

Endeavor/Hawks – fantasies; slight homophobia/Endeavor really trying to deny the obvious; rough sex – Hawks is very open in his appreciation for Endeavor’s body and while Endeavor likes to pretend it does not phaze him, the reality behind closed doors is different…

Working with Hawks has done ton of good for Enji’s confidence; even though he admittedly does not need any help in that regard. Hawks is lewd and outgoing and apparently has no sense of shame.

He wonders, sometimes, if that’s just how the current youth *is*. Whether Shoto behaves with such flagrant disregard for modesty as well when his father’s heavy gaze is not on him.

But, he supposes, maybe Hawks is just an exemption for he seems to be exceptionally infuriating; his gaze lingering on Endeavor’s body with nothing short of greed; appraising him openly and throwing him toothy grins when Enji pointedly stares at him, waiting for the young man to realize he’s been caught in his lewd, disrespectful ogling.

Hawks does not care about fanning Enji’s anger, and, in turn, his flames. He does not care about the softer and more firm rebukes, just takes them in stride and with a flippant “Right on, buddy!” before resuming staring at whatever feature of Enji’s body has taken his fancy this time.

Most often, he has noticed, those sharp eyes seem to linger on his thighs and chest, of all places, and he finds himself wondering just what it is the young man wants from him.

Enji is not unused to lecherous attention, though most of the time it is focused on the prominent bulge between his legs; the cup protecting his cock in the midst of battle. He can see their little imaginations working, trying to figure out just how big he is; just how gratifying it must be to have him mount them.

He pretends that Hawks’ obnoxious staring means little more than annoyance and a mild distaste to him, but in reality, he’s been thinking about it to an extent of obsession. He finds his mind wandering during meetings; listening to reports from his Sidekicks without really tuning in to what they update him on.

He finds himself circling around the peculiar focus Hawks’ obsession has taken. How scenarios might develop if he were to indulge the kid. Show him just how powerful his thighs can be when he wrestles him to the ground and feeds his impertinent mouth his cock while squeezing his head between his thighs.

God, but he’d love nothing more than putting Hawks in his place. Finally shut his quick, gloating mouth up by stuffing him first with dick and then with cum until it shoots out of his nose and his eyes roll into the back of his head.

Have one big hand in his untidy hair and keep him right where he is; choking on Endeavor’s sweaty cock and head feeling like it is going to explode from the pressure.

Enji would maybe be taken aback by his borderline violent fantasies if that weren’t how he’s always fantasized. How even in his youth all his needy, hot fantasies have included a sharp, maybe disturbing edge of pain.

No, what really takes him aback is how insidiously his fantasies tend to warp on him without fail; how his mind wanders from putting Hawks in his place; big hands on his wings, using them like leads as he pulls him back onto his dick, to Hawks being the one ranging above him. Having Enji’s ass in his meager lap, his young, sleek cock pushed into the tight, unused heat of Enji’s ass, and drilling him hard and deep.

How he’ll use his feathers to keep Enji immobile and helpless, their sharp quills dragging across his body, leaving burning lines in their wake that have not broken, but only *just so*.

Enji has never considered submitting to anybody – certainly not another man – and his thoughts tend to disturb him in no small amount…

…after he has spend himself all over his fist, lungs still burning with the exertion of a simple jerk-off, cheeks feeling as hot as his flames when he thinks back on his hot, needy fantasy that would put a younger man to shame.

Would put *Hawks* to shame.

How much he wants to dick him into submission; have him cry on his cock until this unsightly infatuation has been fucked out of him. Until his curiosity is sated and he finally knows, without a doubt that he does not want to pursue his sick little fantasies with the number one hero.

… And how much he wants to get put down by Hawks in turn. Wants him to belittle him, step on him, make him ache and weepy without mercy. How he wants to be used like a cheap harlot and then thrown away afterwards. How he wants to be bested by this impudent young man that could very well be his son…

He is aware of his sickness, but he can not help it. It has been a long time since his wife, and his hand is a very lonely, dispassionate companion. He can’t just go out to take himself a lover; he is too distinct, too easily recognizable.

All he can do is feverishly fantasize about getting mounted and fucked by another man like a mangy dog on the side of the street. It shames him more than his other fantasies. How desperately he wants Hawk’s cock. How desperately he wants it in him. Stretching him. Warming him.

Using him like a rag before flitting off to his next lustful encounter because Hawks is young and virile and lewd and wouldn’t let himself get slowed down by a washed up old man like Enji.

He thinks Hawks might brag to his other conquests while Endeavor has to fall back onto his own hand. How he got to fuck the number one hero. Pop his cherry, as they so indelicately put it these days.

How he made him howl on his first dick and pant for hit like a dog.

The fantasy turns Enji on all the more. Sick.

10th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 1st Fill

McHanzo + Shimadacest – stuck in a wall; molestation; slightly yandere!Genji, maybe yandere!McCree – Hanzo gets stuck during a training session and Genji seizes the opportunity.

“Stop grinning and help me out,” Hanzo hisses, a vein swelling dangerously at his temple. Jesse is standing with way too loose a posture, Peacekeeper dangling precariously from one finger. There’s barely any sweat darkening his training fatigues; they’ve basically just begun sparring with the others before the wall had come crumbling down, partly burying Hanzo beneath it.

He squirms, impressive biceps bulging as he tries to push himself out of his predicament, but it is impossible the way the rubble is cinched around his hips. One of his legs seems to be stuck as well, ankle caught in the rubble.

Jesse keeps smirking but wisely refuses from making any smart comment.

“You alright?” he drawls, finally putting his weapon away. Hanzo eyes his own practice bow, lying on the floor in the dust. It looks to be unharmed at least.

“Yes. Now come here and…”

He trails off, eyebrows pulling into a frown. He could swear there’s been a touch to his… Hanzo jumps, when it happens again, this time firmer. Unmistakable: A hand palming his ass.

He flushes a dull red in angered indignation, shoulders pulling towards his ears while Jesse watches him in mild interest.

“Who is that?!” Hanzo barks, trying to crane around – as if that would allow him to see who has snuck up behind him. The hand jerks away for a second, but a moment later it is back, palming him, squeezing his ass while he sputters, lost for words.

Who would…

“Help me out of here!” he demands, imperiously thrusting his arms towards Jesse who just watches, bushy eyebrows climbing his forehead. When he does not move, Hanzo elaborates between clenched teeth: “Someone is… someone is *touching* me!”

Jesse whistles between his teeth.

“Someone’s got balls. In the middle of an exercise…”

The hand is starting to boldly pull down his tracksuit pants. Hanzo’s breath stutters. He tries clenching his knees together to try and salvage the situation, but one of his ankles is still stuck and the person behind him has the clear advantage.

“Help me out of here, you big oaf!” he roars and McCree rocks back on his heels, head tilting to the side.

“How ‘bout a ‘please’?”

.o.

Trust McCree to make it difficult. Maybe if Hanzo wasn’t such a bitch all the time, he wouldn’t be in this situation… but maybe Genji should be thankful about his always-prissy older brother.

Bastard.

Especially for making it so damn hard to get a good look at his tight ass. No wonder Genji has to seize every opportunity to get his hands on it. If only Hanzo were a bit more generous with showing his body off.

Let Genji record him lathering up in the shower, paying awkward attention to his immaculately groomed pubes. If he were just a little bit less of a selfish bastard, maybe Genji wouldn’t have to resort to dirty tactics.

Like assaulting him in the middle of a training session when he really can’t be blamed for taking the opportunity to get his hands on his older brother.

He does not tease himself by moving as excruciatingly slow as possible. He would like to, of course, but he’s not sure how much time he has. McCree can be a stubborn mule but if Hanzo cries desperately enough he might be swayed to complying either way.

Genji has Hanzo’s pants down in a moment, mouth going dry as he realizes how naked he is beneath. What a slut. Freeballing it while looking like he’s king of the world…

Genji palms Hanzo’s ballsac. On the other side of the wall he can hear his big brother raging. His free leg is jerking, trying to kick out, and Genji easily catches it and bends it up, pinning Hanzo’s knee to the side of the partly crumbled wall.

With his other ankle caught in the rubble, he is deliciously immobile and open. Like this, his ass cheeks are spreading and Genji can get a look at the dark slit of his hole.

Fuck, but he’s looking nice. Genji is recording, trying to blink away the perspiration gathering on his forehead. It is slightly fogging up his visor but he can’t open his helmet when he needs to catch every little second on camera.

He twists the hand cupping Hanzo’s sac and presses his thumb rudely against his hole. On the other side of the wall, Hanzo sounds like he’s choking on his own tongue.

Genji bites his synthetic bottom lip. He pushes his thumb in rudely on no slick at all, and the big muscles in Hanzo’s thighs flex but he’s become curiously quiet as Genji fucks him on his thumb, testing the give of his hole.

It becomes unbearably hot in his chassis as he feels out his big brother’s silky insides and the desperate clench of his dry rim.

He barely hears McCree’s “Alright alright… let me have a look who’s fucking around with you…” and jerks his hands back reluctantly. He stumbles as he makes his escape, just about managing to climb his way into the rafters.

When he glances down, McCree is standing behind Hanzo’s naked lower body, one hand on his ass, and eyes trained on Genji. They mutely stare at each other. McCree’s gaze flicks to Hanzo’s ass, thumb pulling his cheek to the side to see the flushed red color of his rim.

He looks back up at Genji who can’t do anything but just sit there and stare, then grins pointedly.

“Aw shucks, Hanzo. The guy’s already gone. Who could it have been? But say… where’s your underwear, buddy?”

9th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 11th Fill

McReyes – continuation of this fic – past abuse; animal people AU (no ABO); first time knotting; hurt/comfort; praise kink – Gabriel finally knots Jesse proper.

Gabriel notices, somewhat amusedly, how Jesse has groomed himself. His shaggy, unkempt beard has become cleaner and more… tame. He can’t shake the feeling that the pup did it to impress.

He has succeeded, if he is quite honest.

Jesse fidgets beneath him, then tries to twist onto his belly, and for the first time Gabriel lets him do his thing. He does not like playing into any of the conditioning of the pup’s old pack leaders, but he suspects this whole thing might be easier if he is behind him and has more leverage for giving him his knot and keeping him down in case he panics.

It’s not like Jesse’s eager submission is hard to look at. He’s got quite a few muscles and a bit of fat on him after weeks of regular meals and his ass is nice and round with quite a bit of hair. His long, slender tail is high in the air and wagging.

Around them, the pack shifts with a hot, needy kind of energy. They are primed to react to Gabriel’s arousal. The air is warm and humid. Gabriel’s bedroom is big enough usually, but when the whole pack piles inside, it becomes a bit tight.

If Jesse is nervous about the audience, he does not show it. He might be used to not getting any privacy while getting mounted; Gabriel doesn’t know. When it is about the pup’s past, he finds himself in an odd conundrum where he does want to know as much as possible but also would rather… not hear the answers.

There’s a whine in the air distracting him from his brooding, and when he looks around he realizes it is coming from Jesse. He has lowered his upper body, arching up his ass and looking at him with a feverish stare across his shoulder.

Gabriel smirks and leans forward, dragging his chin across the pup’s ass to let him feel the scratch of his beard, then carefully bites into the root of his tail. Jesse jerks like electrocuted, and his whine becomes more pronounced. More subservient.

He still has so much to learn – like the fact that pain can also be nice when used in measure.

“There, there,” Gabriel purrs throatily. Around them, the pack becomes more agitated at the sound of his voice, crawling all over each other to soothe their need while their leader is occupied with the problem child. “I’ll make you feel so good, Jesse…”

.o.

Jesse promises to become as big as Gabriel; maybe even bigger. But for now he can still blanket the pup and carefully bite at the back of his neck while he moves his hips in a leisurely rocking motion. Jesse has quickly adapted to it, his frantic bucking and trying to help with the fucking becoming less and less until he is simply holding still and letting Gabriel mount and breed him.

“Good boy,” Gabriel whispers intermittently, a shudder running along his spine whenever the praise makes the hot, silky passage around his cock throb and clench down.

In less than half an hour Gabriel has made Jesse into a happily drooling pup, muscles as lax as possible without totally losing his composure.

The pack has begun fucking around them, the smell thick and pungent and egging Gabriel on quite a bit. Part of him wants to push Jesse down rudely; fuck him deep and hard with quick jack-rabbit thrusts that will have his teeth clack together and give him trouble breathing; and while he wouldn’t have any qualms lording his dominance over any of the other members – knowing quite well how much they love being used like cocksleeves – he can’t make himself do it with Jesse.

He purrs in his ear, lipping and nipping at the hot flush there; feeling how Jesse’s tail tries to keep wagging against his belly, tickling and a bit obnoxious. Cautiously happy about the nice dicking he receives.

When he feels his orgasm coming, he tries not to show it. His breath comes in a bit more labored little puffs but if Jesse notices anything, he does not show it. He keeps being a good boy for him, his hole so nice and welcoming, hot and velvety; and part of Gabriel is annoyed that anybody else should have had the privilege of mounting the pup and using him like nothing more than a cumrag without doting on him afterwards.

When his knot starts swelling noticeably, a vein pulsing at his temple as he tries not to go cross-eyed from the sensation of his slow, almost ruined orgasm and Jesse’s tight, perfect hole, Jesse becomes a bit fussy.

He bucks mildly, then makes as if to twist away, though he stops himself even before Gabriel can do so. His face flushes a darker shade of red, his eyes becoming a bit shifty. Maybe a bit panicky.

Gabriel has to shake of the encroaching lethargy in favor of pressing himself down more firmly on the back of the young man, keeping him down and secure as his knot keeps swelling.

Jesse yowls once; sharp and high like a much younger pup as the swell becomes close to *too much*, but thankfully it stops then before actually injuring him.

He stays tense for a couple more minutes before carefully relaxing again. His eyelashes are suspiciously wet, mouth plump and open as he pants through the feeling of being stretched to his limits.

Gabriel mouths at his hot cheek and the scruff of his beard, making sure to keep his hips still and not jostle the pup further.

“Good boy, Jesse. Just like that. You took it so well.”

9th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 10th Fill

Genji/Hanzo – sex toys; stuck in a wall; dirty talk; humiliation – Hanzo wants to get fucked by anonymous patrons. Genji wants it as well but is also a possessive fuck. He comes up with a plan to make both happy. (600 word fill)

Hanzo’s thighs are shaking. He is an assassin used to training his body for many hours on end, but getting fucked deeply, enthusiastically, *impersonally* has him tuckered out like nothing else.

His hole is a butter soft gash between his cheeks, colored like a bruise by the point that Genji stops back to take a deep breath to center himself. In his hand is the sixth toy; a ridiculously long, fat cock that he is sure Hanzo would have realized is nothing but a piece of silicone if he hadn’t been fucked into incoherence by now.

“Good fuck,” he grunts. He doesn’t have to affect how out of breath he is by this point. Hanzo shudders, his knees threatening to give way. He’s wearing boots still – an unexpectedly sexy addition – and has been standing on tiptoe for most of the encounter. He must be exhausted beyond belief.

Genji pulls his mask off, and the deliberate distortion to his voice vanishes. He steps closer, putting one warm hand on his brother’s flank.

“Are you well, brother?” he murmurs. Hanzo only groans long and drawn out. His hole clenches pathetically. Genji lets his hand slide, thumb dragging round and round the glistening pout of his rim.

“That was six. You still good to go? Think there are a few more outside waiting to wreck you…” He eyes the desk to the side and the three unused toys on the towel there. He cups Hanzo’s balls and squeezes them. “‘Bout three I’d say.”

Hanzo whines on the other side. He’s been pretty much begging for this, but by now he’s as helpless as a kitten, hanging in the contraption bonelessly; just offering up his hole for the usage of other men.

Or, as it were, Genji who is too possessive to let anybody get their dirty fingers on his anija’s sweet body.

He smirks and murmurs: “Very well…” before putting the mask back in place. He takes the voice of one of the first encounters. Hanzo is too out of it to notice by this point. He wanders towards the desk and chooses one of the toys. Squat and fat and the surface littered with bulbs that are sure to make Hanzo thrash.

He glances at him while he slicks it up. Stares at the fat muscular thighs framing his flushed balls and the sloppy ruin of his hole. There are six tally marks on his ass and upper thighs and as Genji steps closer he adds a seventh.

Hanzo’s knees slowly sag away and he just hangs in the hole.

Genji slaps his thigh to make him jerk back up.

“Hey slut,” he drawls, affecting an accent that is reminiscent of McCree but still miles away. “Don’t be lazy. Show me that cunt.”

He obeys with some difficulty. His motions are slow, booted feet sliding on the ground. He lifts his ass, but Genji decides to make it a bit more difficult.

“Spread ‘em.”

It takes another two sharp swats to Hanzo’s thighs to make his brain function enough that he understands what is being asked. He pushes his arms through the hole he’s stuck through with difficulty, his hands grasping at his ass. Spreading himself open. Genji groans deep and heartfelt.

“Damn… I should make you pay *me* to fuck that ruined mess…”

He wonders what Hanzo thinks of the bumps littering the toy. Maybe he figures out that it’s not real. Maybe he thinks it’s one of the ugliest dicks ever fucking him. If so, he doesn’t seem to mind. He howls like an old, seasoned whore and dutifully keeps his ass spread.

Genji almost wants to actually see him getting railed in a dirty motel room; a string of balding business men with ugly cocks fucking his pristine, austere older brother. The thought is tempting; but he does not think he could temp down on his possessiveness long enough to make it happen.

It is difficult to share Hanzo. Nobody should know just how depraved his big brother is.

9th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 9th Fill

McCree/Junkrat – body worship; skin hunger; past abuse; hurt/comfort – McCree and Junkrat are rather alike…

“No need to be so hectic. I ain’t going nowhere soon, kiddo.”

Jesse stares amusedly down at Jamison, noting absently that the kid must have showered because his patchy blond hair seems brighter than usual and there is a distinct overall lack of soot on his body.

Jamison snatches his hands away where they had been splayed against McCree’s hairy, muscled belly. He *does* look like a rat in that moment; hands curled uncertainly in front of his slim chest, glancing up through his bushy eyebrows.

Jesse rumbles, stretching and pushing one arm behind his head. Unselfconsciously showing off the meaty flex of his bicep and the thick patch of hair underneath.

“Don’t give me that look. Everything’s alright. Just take it a bit slower, yeah? Don’t got anywhere to be, really.”

Jamison’s face twists into something ugly for a second but Jesse would have no hope of deciphering all those little expressions flitting across the kid’s face. He’s a surprisingly complicated young man. There’s a lot of damage that had been done to him. Jesse suspects he would have ended up much the same if Reyes hadn’t pulled him out in the nick of time.

Maybe that’s why he has such a soft spot for the guy.

Jamison has yet to run his quick mouth and Jesse suspects he will not for quite some time. When confronted with the opportunity to get his hands on Jesse’s body, he always becomes curiously quiet.

When nothing else happens other than the the cigarillo lighting up slowly as Jesse takes another puff, Jamison relaxes once more.

Jesse can see every twitchy muscle beneath the tight stretch of Jamison’s skin. He’s not put on any weight as far as Jesse can tell. He’s still so thin that he feels like his sharp bones might be slicing through his skin any second now.

When he reaches down, he can let his fingers trail across each bump of Jamison’s spine. The kid freezes where he is crouched above Jesse’s chest and seems to stop breathing until Jesse gives him a pat with his warm palm and takes his hand away again. Only then does Jamison take up his exploration again.

He has a certain kind of fascination with Jesse’s hair. He likes dragging his fingers – even the artificial ones – through it just to feel how crisp and coarse they feel. He sometimes delicately takes a few hairs between his fingertips and tugs on them, though never near hard enough to pull them out.

He also likes to cup Jesse’s muscles; squeeze them. Feel how round and firm they are…

It’s not really sexual. Not from what Jesse is used to, though he can see the faint outline of Jamison’s cock in his baggy pants. Jamison’s world, he has to remind himself again and again, is different from what other people perceive.

Sometimes he has a detached, glassy look in his bright eyes when Jesse’s fingers slip beneath his belt; and other times he gets short of breath and flushed when Jesse pets across his head in what is almost a fatherly gesture.

He always becomes very calm, however, when Jesse smokes. He likes the smell of it; the heat that the cigarillo emanates. Jesse is suitably sure that Jamison would probably get painfully hard, maybe would be able to shoot off from the sensation of getting a cigarette put out against his skin, but he does not want to try that shit (…yet…).

Jamison leans down, breathing against Jesse’s skin. Ruffling the hair. He’s close to one of Jesse’s nipples, but he does not show any interest in it, even when it becomes hard and needy. He stars sniffing at him, then outright presses his mouth and nose against Jesse’s skin and breathes him in.

It is awkward and tickling. He suspects it’s the scent of smoke, ingrained into him, that is so alluring for the young man, but he can’t be sure.

Just when Jamison looks like he’s going to spend *quite some time* just inhaling Jesse, he moves in one fluid motion, putting the junker beneath him.

Jamison looks startled for a second, then… something else. A mix between anger and concern. His eyes flick towards the door where they both know his bodyguard is just beyond. Waiting for his boss to *conclude business*.

Jesse ignores the show of distrust and slowly, carefully lies himself down on Jamison’s long, thin body. It’s not the most comfortable of surfaces – several sharp bones are poking him – but it’s not about going to sleep, anyway.

He ignores the sharp, slightly panicked intake of air beneath him, or the way Jamison’s hands curl claw-like across his shoulders, and lets him feel just enough of his weight to make breathing a bit more difficult.

Jamison goes cross-eyed and makes a sound for the first time; a weak squeak that has the floor outside of the room creak ominously as the Hog shifts his weight.

Then he becomes quiet again, his eyes taking on a rather dreamy look as the heat and weight of Jesse’s body registers.

Jesse is not unfamiliar with skin hunger. What he can give is likely way too late at this point, but he does not have a problem with sharing himself anyway.