8th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 8th Fill

Hanzo/Doomfist – continuation of the fic from this compilation – faux beastiality; cow people; breeding kink; voyeurism; possessiveness – Hanzo’s and Akande’s life nowadays.

Hanzo’s daily rhythm changes depending on Akande’s moods which gives him no small amount of satisfaction. He is basically the Queen Bee of his herd just by association with the bull and it makes him preen unendingly. The humans have to work around Akande. They are afraid of him and his big muscles and large horns, and Hanzo can’t say that he minds it one bit.

When it is time for everybody to be ushered into the milking barn and strapped into the devices the humans are just out of luck if Akande decided that he wants to mount his cow that morning. They have to wait, standing around the fences, watching with disgruntled faces as Akande dicks his cow into the ground, big cock making lewd squelching sounds as it drags along Hanzo’s sloppy, well-fucked hole.

It had been something Hanzo had to get used to, first; having the humans or even the other cows stand around, watching him cry shrill and breathless as the large bull forced his way inside, but by now the eyes on him are just as much part as the deep, overwhelming intrusion.

Akande, he suspects, makes it a point out of having as much an audience as possible. He likes showing off how virile he is. He also likes showing them what they decidedly can *not* have – like the silky, ever-ready pout of Hanzo’s greedy hole.

After the birth of the twins – long since weaned and taken away to another herd – Akande had been gentler in his mounting. He’d moved slower, more leisurely; almost soft enough for Hanzo to keep lipping at the juicy grass. He’d also spent some time afterwards cleaning his swollen, lose hole; tongue soft and intrusive as it lapped at whatever dribbled back out.

Now, though, he is more than ready to get Hanzo fat and heavy with his calves once more.

It shows in how frequently he wants to mount him; nosing beneath Hanzo’s tail practically moments after sliding off with a lewd squelch, and Hanzo bearing down with an exhausted groan, a veritable deluge of cum sliding silkily and sticky out of him.

Hanzo has to start denying him, body sore, kicking at the huge bull or jerking around and nipping at him so he lets him rest for just a bit longer.

His hole becomes tender enough that he has to constantly lift his tail to the side since even the slightest pressure is starting to become unbearable…

Akande keeps staying mounted up longer, making sure to plug Hanzo up as long as possible while mouthing along his shoulders and lovingly nipping at his ears to keep him docile beneath him.

Hanzo is walking funny because of it; angling his thighs farther apart, cock just as chafed from his bull’s amorous attention as his hole is lose from the constant deep fucking by his massive cock.

Genji is gloating at him – the other members of the herd as well, if he is being honest – but he can’t quite bring himself to putting them back into their place; not when he can barely get a bit of sleep and grazing in until Akande is on him again, plying him with his wide, slippery tongue dabbing softly at his inflamed hole.

They know instinctively when the breeding takes long before Hanzo actually shows.

He supposes the humans are happy about it. Maybe that’s why they just stood around watching Hanzo get exhausted by his bull. He produces more milk when he’s fat with a calf, and it is creamier, too.

At least Akande returns to his more gentle self afterwards; Hanzo can suffer the indignity of being nothing but a breeding hole if it means he once more gets to lord his standing above the other cows afterwards.

8th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 7th Fill

Torbjörn/D.Va – Size Queen; Daddy kink – Hana has a thing for older, thicc men.

Note: I didn’t explicitly state it but since I don’t like cheating, I think Torbjörn and his wife are in a happy open relationship 🙂

Torbjörn is a stocky man; squat and with thick, round muscles that had been catching Hana’s attention since the first time he’s seen him. He makes her a bit silly when he’s around, humoring her dancing around him like a filly and letting her groom his beard while he’s deeply in conversation with Reinhardt.

He always leaves her braids in for a day or two, and she lies awake at night, squirming, hand stuffed between her thighs as she berates herself for having lost her cool again. That he’ll never see her as anything but a silly little girl at this rate when what she wants from him extends to so much more than just combing and braiding his thick, bright beard.

It takes her by surprise when his big hand grabs for her when she visits him in his workshop, equipped with an excuse she knows his laughably flimsy just so she can see his naked arms bulging with exertion as he works.

But she goes easily – and *eagerly* – when she catches on to the swelteringly hot, heavy pressure of his palm against her round hip.

He sits her on his workbench, watching her intensely with his one eye, his face screwed together into a deep, contemplative frown while his thumb carefully slides against the inseam of her jeans, urging her thighs open.

“Good?” he asks hesitatingly, scanning her flushed, eager face. She nods quick and eager.

*Good. Yes. Very, very good.*

He plays with her. She’s never been eaten out before and she thinks he might have ruined her for anybody else to come. Her hands are in his hair, fisted, pulling as his broad, silky tongue pushes her closer and closer to a tingling, almost nervous orgasm.

His beard is scratchy.

She humps his face and Torbjörn takes it in stride. It’s like he’s used to it. Like he loves eating pussy and has been doing it for all his life, and suddenly she thinks of his beautiful wife and how well he must be treating her whenever he’s home.

Hana has to put her foot against his shoulder and push him away for him to finally stop. She feels like he would have gladly spend the whole evening eating her out, lashing his big, warm tongue against her engorged clit and coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of her.

His lips are glistening and she squirms.

“Want your cock,” she pants, red faced but unashamed. He squawks a laugh but stands up and gets to work. She almost wants to squeeze her thighs together at just how broad and compact he is.

His chest is as hairy as the rest of him though it is difficult to see beneath the thick beard.

His cock… his cock is…

Good. Very… It’s… very good…

He’s careful fucking that thing into her. The wide head is spreading her lips until her eyes water. She’s curled around him like a clenched fist, face hidden against his neck and his beard. It is fragrant with some kind of wax that makes her all gooey inside.

When he breaches her, she cries out, her hips feeling… full, body on high alert from the intense intrusion, and it takes her a while of him murmuring: “I got ya, babygirl…” to realize she’s called him daddy.

There’s a second or two where she waits with bated breath for panic and embarrassment to hit her, but then she realizes how good it feels. How right. Like things have finally slotted into place.

Torbjörn fucks carefully; his stocky, strong legs firm and immovable. Hana is sure he would carry her without breaking a sweat if she wasn’t sitting on the low workbench. Just… have her in his arms and gently sit her down on his fat, surprisingly long cock.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” she pants out in little puffs right against his ear, and he chuckles along like it is the cutest thing he’s heard, though she can feel his cock pulsing interestedly inside her clenching, burning snatch.

8th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 6th Fill

McCree/Reyes – continuation of the first fic in this compilation – mentions of past rape; hurt/comfort; comfort sex; gentle sex – Reyes needs something soft and Jesse will deliver.

It is easy to forget, sometimes, that Commander Reyes is as human as the rest of him. He is larger than life most of the time; dominating to the point of being scary, but when Jesse slips into his office after bringing him back from the enemy a rough three days prior, he looks almost… sunken. Shrunk.

He sits at his desk, a data pad giving off weak light in front of him. He’s bracing his elbows, head in his hands.

“I… uh…”

Reyes flinches – goddamn *flinches* – then looks up sharply without lifting his head much. His gaze, despite his near-cowering form, is flat. Maybe a bit malicious.

“What.”

Jesse swallows thick, his throat suddenly dry. There’s a flash of a memory: Reyes, on the ground, legs spread by a steel bar, body slick from various loads his captors had left on his back and thighs and ass.

And that sweet, dark space between his cheeks that had taken Jesse so well…

“I… wanted t’ see how things… are.” He winces. It sounds even lamer spoken aloud and the deadpan stare Gabriel gives him in response is almost hilarious.

The Commander sits up finally, hands dropping into his lap, looking Jesse up and down. His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath.

“Come here, Jesse.”

Jesse hesitates. He has his hat in front of his chest. He’s a grown man built like a wall but he looks like a scolded little kid in that moment.

Finally, he nods as if to himself, and makes his way over. Around the desk. Standing in front of his Commander who looks at him appraisingly up and down.

He thinks again of how sweetly Reyes’ body has accepted him; hole buttery soft and sloppy. Well used by countless men before him. His belly churns and he looks away guiltily until Reyes stands and pulls him into a kiss – slow and sweet and nothing like the tumultuous dirty memories still spooking around in Jesse’s head.

He can’t help but eagerly accept it.

.o.

Without the coercion and beatings and… and… rape… – Reyes is even sweeter. He’s wrapped his big body around Jesse, holding on like an octopus as he gets fucked slow and careful on Jesse’s dick which is spreading him open and sliding in deeper with every carefully slow, easy thrust.

Jesse can’t wrap his head around the situation; can’t understand why Reyes would want to fuck him – *him*, of all people – so close after his ordeal. He can’t complain, though. Not when Reyes is making soft, fucked-out noises, mouthing wet and a bit sloppy at whatever he can reach of Jesse’s skin.

He’s pressed his face into the crook of McCree’s shoulder and Jesse can feel his breath puff against his collar bones. It tickles and makes his belly almost hotter than the way is insides tremble around him: sweet little pulses of his inner muscles that have Jesse see stars as they massage his cock. As if the Commander’s body is in love with it.

Jesse whines, and Reyes echoes it mindlessly. He’s scorching hot and *big*. He’s wrapped himself so thoroughly around Jesse that he’s sure he wouldn’t be able to get away even if he wanted to.

“That’s good… so good,” he whispers breathlessly as he fucks; he’s pumping with slow, even motions of his hips. A bit shallow now after he’s found the angle that seems to do it *very well* for Reyes. Gabriel.

It’s like he’s doing push ups. His belly and thighs burn. If Gabriel knew, he’d make sure to include a lot more in the upcoming training sessions. Jesse turns his head and lips against the Commander’s ear until he is *squirming* and trying to hide it from him.

He grins, tongue sneaking out, tasting against the outer shell until Reyes bucks up against him and throws his head back with a gasp like he’s held his breath the whole time.

His dark, dark eyes look up at Jesse; a bit wet and vulnerable, but his face serene as anything. He enjoys himself so obviously it is making Jesse squirmy and wanting to buck like a man much younger and less experienced than he’s become.

He wants to drill into him like a man possessed. Instead, he makes himself slow down even more; get deep and intense with his shallow thrusts until Reyes rewards him by baring his throat and groaning long and deep, his big cock twitching between them in the wetness he’s created.

“Wow,” Jesse whispers. He leans down, dragging his lips across Reyes’ throat to let him feel the scratch of his beard.

He can’t believe how sweet the Commander can be for a good, *loving* dicking. How different this lust is to the reluctant orgasm he’s fucked out of him under the leering gaze of a crowd seemingly a lifetime ago.

“So good… so good for me… fuck, you feel… you feel so incredible,” he mumbles sloppily against the point of Reyes’ jaw, mouthing against it, begging for a kiss until the Commander finally obliges at lets him have at it, panting hot and needy breaths right into Jesse’s lungs.

Jesse’s head feels like it’s filled with cotton. His cock, too, for that matter. He’s never felt so desperately in need for an orgasm without actually feeling like he needs to come anytime soon.

He’ll fuck the Commander as long as he wills it. Everything for him.

8th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 5th Fill

Jack/Jesse – Erectile Dysfunction; praise; prostate milking – Jack doesn’t always get it up. Jesse does not mind one bit. He loves taking care of him.

They’ve been making out for a while now, and although Jesse is always up for snuggling, perfectly happy to just work his mouth, Jack can feel the urgency radiating off of him slowly… increasing, almost.

The small noises he makes – deep grunts in the back of his throat – become more frequent; his big hand more cheeky as it starts wandering from Jack’s hip to one of his hard thighs, squeezing the big muscle and making sure to dig his thumb against the inseam until Jack automatically spreads his legs a bit, heat surging up into his cheeks.

Jesse makes a sound of appreciation, sliding closer in, twisting until it would be easy to press Jack back down onto the bed. His mouth’s wet, hot slide becomes more insistent, his tongue pushing in deep and possessive until Jack has to push him away by the shoulders just to pant, open mouthed and light-headed, staring into Jesse’s dark, docile eyes.

“That okay?” Jesse murmurs with his deep, smooth voice, his hand squeezing again, and while Jack nods slowly, one hand fisted in Jesse’s wild tangles, it begins moving up and in, unselfconsciously cupping the old soldier’s crotch.

The second of hesitation following is enough to have Jack lower his gaze in humiliated shame. He hadn’t even realized… he’d been so into Jesse’s youthful, greedy advances, he had thought…

“Not today?” Jesse mumbles, already dipping forward again, leaving wet, sucking kisses at the corner of Jack’s mouth, the soldier’s lips suddenly pressed into a tight line.

“Apparently not,” he hisses, humiliation burning hot in his veins. Jesse has never ridiculed him about the… failings of his old body, but he can’t help but feel helpless and inferior in face of Jesse’s blatant, vital youth.

Jesse hums, his ever-moving mouth sliding over towards one of Jack’s ears, sharp teeth biting just this side of not-painful into his lobe.

“No problem. Let me take care of you.”

His big, warm hand is still on Jack’s crotch; still cradling his useless fucking dick, and Jack clenches his eyes shut tight and tries to will himself to react to the gentle squeeze, or the slow back-and-forth of Jesse’s thumb idly petting him.

Alas, his cock remains soft while his balls feel warm and… and full, making him almost squirm.

“Jack…”

“Yes,” he pants, eyes kept tightly, stubbornly shut so he didn’t have to look at Jesse’s pretty, youthful face; the rich brown of his hair. “Yes. Okay.”

It’s easier that way.

.o.

His eyes are still closed when he’s ass-up on the bed. He can’t look. He can’t risk staring down his body and seeing his cock swing soft and embarrassing between his strong thighs.

Everything on his body is strong, trained to perfection, obeying every command… then why not his-

His mouth falls open on a wet, needy pant as Jesse slides into him with two slick fingers. Where the first had been just a *sensation* of pressure and intrusion, the second one is giving him a much more gratifying experience.

A nice stretch. Fullness. He slides his knees farther apart and arches his spine. Lifts his ass up into Jesse’s ministrations. He can feel his flush crawl down his shoulder blades, blatant for the other man to see. He is… lewd showing himself off like that. Letting Jesse peruse his old body.

He should be ashamed but it is hard when Jesse’s big warm hand is dragging along his spine, rubbing against the small of his back where those stinging aches like to crop up every now and then. It is difficult to think of much when one is getting pampered and has the unrelenting metal fingers of Jesse’s prosthetic spreading him open, the tips digging almost bruising into his prostate.

Making him squirm, belly moving quick with his panting breaths.

His cock – his *useless goddamn cock* – feels warm and prickly, the sensation spreading throughout his abdomen, but he knows better than to look. It will still just… just hang there, soft and pathetic. Tonight is not a night for him to get it up.

Jesse does not mind. He is humming low and tuneless, whistling through his teeth every now and then. His own cock; big and beautiful and virile is probably hanging between his thighs without getting touched.

What a shame. What an utter waste.

Jack wants to at least play with one cock if he can’t do so with two, but he’s frozen to the spot. Can feel his cum getting massaged out of him, and he groans long and deep and rough when he feels himself coming in a slow, unsatisfying roll of pressure.

Behind him, Jesse suddenly croons. “That’s it… yeah… god, you look so hot like this…”

He can’t help but take a peek, then; past his firm pectorals with the grey dusting of hair and straight at his cock, looking ridiculous swinging there, with cum dripping slowly from the tip.

Jack squirms, uncomfortable, wanting to get away from the sight and the unrelenting pressure that forces the unsatisfactory orgasm from him, but Jesse’s hand is there, rubbing, soothing, holding him in place as his metal fingers drag against his prostate and make him see stars.

“Stay right there. Let me see how much you’ve stored up, Jack.”

Jack can’t wrap his head around the thought that Jesse actually *likes* this. Milking the cum from Jack’s useless cock. He gets off on mounting him after wringing every little bit from him. Fucking him deep until he sees stars, dry anal orgasms making him grit his teeth and feel like he has to… he just has to… he never knows what. He just knows that there is an unbelievable pressure that is almost frightening in its intensity.

He might be making sounds when he’s like that; pathetic whines that Jesse shushes while he keeps him pressed down, fucking him slow and leisurely.

Jesse likes taking care of his partners. Jack almost hates how grateful he is for it.

8th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 4th Fill

Reaper/Hanzo; Genji – shimadacest; rape; tentacle sex; chocking; rough sex; hair pulling; mild sounding – Reaper has got some toys and knows how to play with them.

The tentacle slides in deep, slippery and intrusive, and Hanzo cries out at the insane stretch of his rim, clamping down, inner muscles working to force the intruder out.

Genji surges forward on the chair he’s seated on, lifting up, but before his thighs can lose contact with the simple wood, the dark sinuous mass around Hanzo’s throat curls tighter, cutting off his air flow.

Genji plops down to the sound of his older brother’s desperate gurgling, Hanzo’s bound hands coming up and clawing at the tentacle that slips through his grasp like so much smoke.

Genji’s hands curl into frustrated fists, his angry tears hidden behind his visor.

Reaper laughs at him. At Hanzo. At the situation in general. He has a grand ol’ time and he’s making sure the brother’s know it.

“Why don’t you take it easy, Genji? I thought you were always one to enjoy a good show… Do you not like how pretty your brother looks speared open? *He* certainly seems to like it.”

Hanzo’s cock, forced into submission by the relentless, near violent pressure against his prostate, is dutifully hard, curved up into the air, bobbing gently with every slick, squelching thrust of the dark mass into his body.

He is stretched out, having to accommodate the tight grip around his throat, his spine arched and belly fluttering with quick little panting breaths.

Reaper has long since lost most of his human form. He is a dark, oily mass that has Hanzo enveloped, the inky tendrils lapping up at his sides and tickling his ribs.

“Take off your visor, Genji.”

Genji is rooted to the spot, staring, defiantly, then clenching his eyes shut when one tiny tendril starts curling around his brother’s fiercely swollen cock, the whispy end tickling the slit at the very top; flirting with the thought of dipping into his urethra.

“Take your visor off,” Reaper repeats, deep voice even more of a growl. Some of the playfulness has vanished, replaced with impatience. “I want to know that you are *looking* at him. I want to know you see what a *whore* your precious big brother is…”

Genji hesitates, fingers digging into the pliant fiber mesh covering part of his thighs. Hanzo’s sudden cry, quickly cut off by him gritting his teeth, has him jump to action. He unlatches his visor, face set in a deep scowl.

Reaper makes a sound like he’s purring with satisfaction, the tiny tendril carefully slipping back out of Hanzo’s flushed cock, taking with it a long string of pre-cum that stretches obscenely before finally snapping.

Hanzo’s cheeks are a dull red that quickly spreads down his throat and chest.

“Very good. You obey better now. They’ve tamed you, I take it.” Reaper’s eyes burn with some inner fire, staring at Genji above the swell of Hanzo’s shoulder as he directs the small tendril from before to gently curl around Hanzo’s sac and squeeze it.

Genji presses his lips into a defiant line. He will not give Reaper the satisfaction of answering. He stares right at his face, trying to ignore the way Hanzo’s bound hands jerk down, trying and failing to curl around the tendril around his testicles and pull it away.

The next sound he makes, however, has Genji looking despite himself: Hanzo jerking on the slippery mass impaling him and *moaning* low and rough, his face scrunching in humiliated mortification.

Reaper damn near howls with laughter.

“Oh so that’s it? That’s the spot?” he purrs, his face snuggling against Hanzo’s cheek like a lover. The thick tendril around his throat vanishes. Instead, something curls into Hanzo’s hair and pulls hard, baring his throat until Genji is sure his neck has to snap.

His fingers dig deeper into the fiber mesh lest he spring up and dash towards his brother.

Reaper’s movements become more rhythmic after that. An even, obscene push and drag motion that has Hanzo’s cock bob and his hands tremble, curled uselessly in front of his belly as he tries so hard to not react to whatever sinuous curl is making him lose his composure.

“Are you not getting desperate? Do you not want to get rid of this pesky… pressure? I’ve had you on edge for quite a while before your little brother stumbled in. You don’t want to show him how much you love taking it. How much you are addicted to me being able to fill your belly until you feel like you’re going to get sick…”

Reaper’s voice carries easily. He has never had trouble ensnaring an audience, and now, too, the Shimada brothers listen despite themselves.

Hanzo is baring his teeth, clenching his eyes shut. If he wants to deny the words, the effect is rendered useless by the sudden, almost shy shift of his hips: rocking on the thick tentacle spearing him open.

Fucking himself on it.

Genji’s mouth goes dry, his belly curling in a way that he can’t say whether it is dread or… something else.

“I know you want to come,” Reaper whispers, nosing against Hanzo’s cheek. “I’m not keeping you from it, you know. You can touch yourself whenever you want. There is no need for you to have to endure this any longer…”

Hanzo makes a weird sound; high and trembling like a whimper or whine. His hands are flexing helplessly, cock bouncing in the air. Reaper’s voice drops into an intimate murmur. He sounds almost… sympathetic.

“Just touch yourself.”

Genji watches, appalled, as Hanzo’s hands *do* move, then; sliding down, fingers trembling but becoming more sure as he takes his cock between his palms. Wrists bound as they are he has to use both hands to clumsily jerk himself off, but his face becomes slack when he feels the firm, familiar pressure of his own touch. Relieved.

He pleasures himself quick and shameless before his brother while Reaper keeps driving into his slack, warm body, chuckling all the way.

8th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 3rd Fill

human!Winston/Soldier76 – nasty old man 76; coercion; forced feminization; abuse; non-consensual voyeurism; non-con/rape – Soldier has a not-so-willing pet in the kind scientist.

This one was tricky for me for some reason :0 Soldier really is a bastard in this one. I like to think that something good happens for Winston at the end

“You like sending me on the longest missions. If I didn’t know better I would think you don’t like me.”

Soldier watches with amusement as Winston flushes a dull red, nervous sweat springing up on his brow. His dark, docile eyes are not looking into the camera. Either because he hasn’t figured out yet where Jack is getting his video feed from, or because he can’t look at him while he’s lying.

“N-No.. ah.. that’s not… it,” Winston mumbles. Nervous. He is a brilliant scientist but in front of his *master* he is reduced to a bumbling idiot. Soldier smirks and leans back against the cracking wall. He’s found refuge for the night in a rundown abandoned apartment complex and figured that he could use a bit of a distraction during the dreary mission.

Cue, him checking in on his pet via the secret camera he installed in his laboratory.

“Show me your tits.”

Winston looks taken aback. He haphazardly shoves his glasses up his nose, shocked silent for a second.

“I… ah… b-but-”

“Don’t talk back to me, babe.” Jack leans forward even though Winston can’t see him, fixing him with a hard glare. “You don’t want to make it worse for you, do you? I won’t be gone forever…”

Winston falls silent, biting his lip. He ducks his head, his shoulders shaking, hands probably curled into big fists at his sides.

“Show me your tits. Nobody’ll have to know what kind of slut you are if you obey like a good girl.”

For a second, the scientist looks close to crying, face a humiliated hot red, fingers shaking fiercely as he lifts his hands and starts unbuttoning the lab coat he’s wearing. It is clear he has not mentally prepared himself for the possibility of Jack harassing him even when he is out on a mission, and he’s softer and more vulnerable than usual.

Jack watches hungrily, cock in hand, slowly stroking. Greedy for Winston’s young, supple body. For how meaty and hairy he is, and too good natured to put up much of a fight.

Jack is sure he’s been the scientist’s first from how bumbling and unskilled he’s been, sucking cock messy and without any finesse… so damn ashamed of his hairy, thick body; and it has been easy to get him to submit. To make him feel like he is lewd and nasty… that his team would ridicule him if Jack told them about that shaky little ‘daddy’ he’s whimpered out as Jack roughly dicked him to his first orgasm on the cock of a real man.

He almost feels bad about it. Almost.

Beneath his lab coat, Winston is wearing a thick pullover that looks rustic. Handmade. A sweet boy wearing what his grandma gifted him. The cock in Jack’s hand surges and he reaches into his pants with his other hand, cupping his testicles.

On the video feed, Winston hesitates, throwing nervous little glances around himself. Still searching for the camera.

He is slow, dragging his heels, and Jack quietly files that away for the next time he has him under his heel proper. Apparently the little slut still has to learn a lot.

Finally he moves, though, lifting his shirt, rucking it up beneath his armpits and showing off his hairy, soft chest and the hirsute swell of his guts. Jack’s nostrils flare and his thumb presses beneath his swollen glans, dragging against his frenulum until his balls jerk in his grip.

“Yeah that’s it. Good girl. Show ‘em to me.”

Winston has gone very quiet, just silently obeying. Letting Jack boss him around while he looks close to crying, his big hands framing his soft chest and pressing the pecs together. Showing them off nervously to what is for him an empty room.

“Yeah. Good. Very good. Is your door open? What would you do if someone just walked in to you fondling your slutty tits?”

Winston ducks his head, his lips trembling. Jack hums, hips flexing up into his grip. He wishes he had Winston right here just so he could have the delicious promise of his tight, fat ass cushioning his dick before the end of the night.

“Does it get you hot? Gets your little clit excited? Of course it does. I bet you’re getting your panties dripping because you’re such a nasty slut. You want to show your body off, don’t you? For *daddy*?”

Winston sobs, then. Shakes his head, but squeezes his big hands around his hairy tits, blunt fingers pinching his dark, pretty nipples without Jack having to urge him to do so. He might be denying it, but he’s a natural, deep down. A cheap two-dollar-whore that’s just been waiting for the right trigger. Someone bored enough to give him a pity fuck and have him realize how greedy he is for dick.

“Do you want to touch your little clitty, baby girl? Want to touch it while daddy talks you through it?”

Winston is shaking his head, then stops, just quietly whining.

“You have to ask for it. I want to hear you say it.”

“Please don’t,” Winston croakes. He looks up nervously, eyes flicking somewhere off screen. Maybe he’s hearing footsteps on the usually deserted corridors outside.

Jack feels a fierce surge of lust, his cock getting wet at the tip, pulsing against his palm.

“Don’t you dare cover up now. Stay right where you are, slut. You are *mine* and I will show you off whenever I like.”

Winston looks like he wants to crawl under the table, the color draining from his face.

Jack can hear the faint thump of steps as well, now.

8th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 2nd Fill

Mitsuki/Masaru/AllMight – Mitsuki cucking her husband with the no. 1 hero 🙂 part 1 >:3c

Mitsuki is sitting next to Masaru as he dials the number, watching his fingers shake. No matter how often she makes him do it, he is still nervous, still throws her little side-glances that he hopes are hidden by his glasses.

Her arm is stretched out leisurely on the back of the couch, her hand sliding to grip the back of his neck to steady him.

He puts the conversation on speaker as soon as he hears the connection being established, cradling the phone in his hands. Mitsuki can feel his neck growing hotter beneath her palm and she squeezes, listening to the deep breaths that come through the speaker and Masaru’s little nervous pants.

Mitsuki smirks and rolls her eyes. Her boys are both ridiculously useless, but quite adorable.

When nothing happens for a while except the nerds breathing heavily into the phone, she jostles Masaru with the grip she has on him. That startles him out of his stupor.

“I-I-I… ah… would… would you… please come over?”

Masaru is hanging his head, shoulders drawing up to his ears in an effort to hide himself from Mitsuki’s burning gaze.

“Yeah?” comes finally the deep voice on the other end of the call, sounding rough and delicious. “Should I come over? Do you need me?”

Mitsuki smirks and gently digs her nails into Masaru’s neck.

“Tell him. Go on.”

She knows AllMight can hear her. Knows he gets off on the knowledge that she routinely makes her husband call him. Masaru, as always, is shy and nervous. He still can barely get the words out without stuttering, his flush now up to his ears.

“W-would you please come and… and pleasure my… my wife,” he veritably whispers, and then, after a deep gulp of air, kneading the bottom of his shirt in his hands: “I… I am… I am unable to…” He glances at Mitsuki who makes a show out of pulling her skirt up and spreading her cunt with two fingers, looking at him with something like pity. Look what you can’t have?

He gulps and the words rush out as if he’s ripping off a bandaid. “I can’t satisfy my wife with my useless dick. Please, AllMight. C-Come and… Come and fuck my wife for me with your superior cock.”

.o.

AllMight in person is not as awkward as AllMight on the phone. Mitsuki stares at Masaru as AllMight fills her from behind, his fat cock spreading her cunt open in a way that makes her toes curl and her eyes nearly roll upward into her head.

He’s long and thick, dragging along her walls and pressing into all those delicious little places that for some reason only AllMight seems to be able to reach and satisfy.

“You did good calling on me, my friend,” he booms behind her, and Mitsuki quivers excitedly because she can feel his fucking voice vibrate through his cock and into her belly. Goddamn. “She’s so tense! She needed a good fucking! There is no shame in not being able to provide with your own body! you know how to call on a friend to help your shortcomings out!”

Mitsuki hides her grin against her arm. AllMight manages to be nice even when shit talking, and his particular brand of dirty talk is absolutely perfect for her shy, sensitive Masaru who is sitting there, hands clutched in his lap and watching with hot, earnest attention.

Mitsuki leans down, ass up, arching it against AllMight, body jerking when the No.1 hero’s big, meaty palm comes down on her ass in a sharp slap that is probably meant to be gentle but a little too enthusiastic to actually pull through. She groans happily, rubbing her cheek against the comforter with delirious delight.

She loves how rough AllMight becomes in his enthusiasm. How he grabs her and hoists her around like she’s a little doll, fucking her on his cock with ease.

“Yes,” she hisses aggressively when he drives back in, her hand jerking backwards, fingernails digging into his sharp hipbone. “Fuck me! God… Goddamnit… give me your cock…”

He does, ranging over her, so huge, body curled like a beast above her back, slamming into her in a pace that makes the heat generated by the friction unbearable. Makes her feel like her cunt is about to melt, quivering and helpless, body pulling together in an orgasm that makes her teeth clack together.

He fucks her through it, ruthless and quick, his voice booming happily: “She’s come on my cock, my friend! Must have been a while for her, she’s been very easy for it! When have you let her come the last time?!”

Masaru is quiet, pulling up his shoulders, cheeks a fierce red. His pants are tented obscenely, his cock straining against the restrictive material. AllMight does not seem to take offense in his silence, he just keeps working, one huge arm looping beneath Mitsuki so he can drag his fat fingers against her swollen clit. He doesn’t let her come down from her high, just keeps stoking the flames through her over-sensitivity.

Mitsuki is sobbing, biting at the comforter, drooling into it as she’s forced quick and hard towards another orgasm. She just about manages to look at her husband, sitting there so obediently, watching his wife take it so well from the No. 1 hero.

And, as so often, his eyes are not actually on her, but on AllMight. Watching him fuck her; his mouth soft and open, eyes huge and glassy with the flush of a teenage girl crushing hard on his cheeks.

Mitsuki damn near purrs.

8th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 1st Fill

Blackwatch!Reinhardt/Angelo – rape; coercion; deep throating; breath play – Reinhardt has a new toy and he knows just how to play it.

“You are a gorgeous one, aren’t you?” Reinhardt extends his hand towards the prisoner but before his fingers can scratch at his chin right beneath his neat little goatee, the man jerks his head away. He does not answer, but Reinhardt can see it in his eyes: how he tries to be brave in the face of his certain doom.

He is a doctor, Reinhardt knows. More used to being inside his laboratories than spending his time out on the battlefield. He’s young and supple and innocent. Maybe Overwatch wanted to take mercy on him. Maybe they did not want to watch his pretty brown eyes become jaded.

Reinhardt smirks and reaches up without missing a beat, pulling the knot of his tie a bit tighter.

He stares down at the bound little bird, watching as his docile eyes flick to him again and again. He can see him trying to figure out who he is.

Last time he’s seen him, Reinhardt had been wearing his Blackheart armor. In a perfectly fitted suit he is something else, and he smirks.

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmurs, usually booming voice pitched into a low, soothing rumble. The medic’s full lips thin and he turns his head farther away. “You are not alone.”

The man snorts and Reinhardt steps closer, one big hand coming into his white hair, attempting to stroke it. When Angelo twists his head to dislodge him, he changes his tactic and grips at him hard, pulling his head back until the pretty bird visibly grits his teeth.

“I am not lying to you. You are not alone. We have more Overwatch agents in our facility.”

Angelo’s eyes snap open, staring up at him, eyebrows drawn tight in concern. Reinhardt smirks, pulling him forward, unceremoniously mashing the prisoner’s face against his crotch, then dragging his cheek against his slowly filling cock. Angelo is a big man. Reinhardt loves playing with them.

“I think if you are a good boy, they won’t get hurt… too much.”

Angelo’s fierce struggle and indignant noises suddenly peter out. When Reinhardt glances down, the good doctor is staring up at him with wide brown eyes. Shocked.

Reinhardt sighs and drags one big finger along Angelo’s cheekbone.

“In trying to spare you the atrocities of war, I think Overwatch has done you more dirty than anybody else could have done.”

.o.

He’s sloppy and panick-y from lack of air, but not half-bad at sucking cock. A natural. Reinhardt had suspected as much – it is always the cute and naive ones – but he’s nonetheless pleasantly surprised.

There’s not been much crying and protest; no hint of teeth as he first nudged his way carefully into the good doctor’s mouth and then, even more carefully into his throat. He’s a good boy, trying not to give him any reason to hurt his precious friends.

Reinhardt sighs, head back, staring unseeingly at the ceiling as he just lets himself feel the warm, desperate contractions around his dick. He’s standing above Angelo, having crowded him against the wall, and is just leisurely fucking straight down into his throat.

He can hear Angelo’s gurgling, muffled by his cock jammed down his throat. He’s still panicking but he’s gotten better about it. He’s no longer clawing desperately at Reinhardt’s massive thighs but just… accepting the treatment. He’s letting Reinhardt suffocate him on his fat cock, tears at the corners of his eyes, gaze a bit vacant as he tries to battle his body’s natural panic response.

When Reinhardt lets up on him and pulls out, he takes huge, ragged breaths, a single dry sob leaving him. There’s a thick line of spit connecting Reinhardt’s flushed glans and Angelo’s bottom lip.

“You’re a good little soldier, aren’t you?” Reinhardt croons, nudging Angelo’s cheek with one thick knuckle. He uses one of the big rings decorating his fingers tug against the doctor’s lip, watching how Angelo just lets him do it. “All for the sake of your little friends. Hmm. How noble.”

He hooks his thumb into the side of Angelo’s mouth, pulling, watching as the doctor just *let’s him*, looking up at him with dark, sweet eyes. He’s gorgeous.

Reinhardt wonders if he will wail when Reinhardt stuffs his ass full of dick. Will he try to crawl away or will he take it, resigned to his fate. In any case, he would look gorgeous on his cock, of that he’s plenty sure.

He pulls farther against the corner of Angelo’s mouth, thumb pressing down on the bottom row of teeth to urge him to open his jaw wide, which Angelo does, showing off his pretty, soft tongue and the raw, red back of his throat that Reinhardt has already so thoroughly, deeply fucked.

“You are a natural. Perfect little toy. So obedient… Do you find solace in the knowledge that you keep your friend’s safe?” Reinhardt leans forward again, knees bending minimally as he starts dragging his cock against the wet cushion of Angelo’s tongue.

He smiles serenely at the defiant look entering the doctor’s eyes, then pushes in deeper, dragging the fat glans just where Angelo’s gag reflex begins to see him try to suppress his choking.

“That is fine. I will teach you soon enough. You are a whore and nobody has trained you properly – but daddy Reinhardt has you, sweetheart. I will show you how good it can feel to just lose yourself in a nice fat cock spreading you open and filling you up. Soon you won’t have to worry about your friends anymore. You will forget them. They are not important. They *will not be* important. Not as much as getting filled with dick and servicing your new masters.”

Angelo’s eyebrows pull together. He looks stormy and rebellious. But Reinhardt will teach him.

7th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 11th Fill

Connor/Hank – choking; tit appreciation; dirty talk – Connor finally has Hank on his back.

“C-Conn… uh…” It’s so difficult to speak both with how Hank is folded up and with how little air he’s getting into his lungs.

He is flushed and embarrassed, feeling stupid with his feet in the air and knees somewhere in the vicinity of his shoulders. He hadn’t even known he was still so flexible, his back curved and ass in the air as a result of that. His belly is awkwardly in the way, big and substantial. It doesn’t scrunch up as cute as Connor’s does when Hank folds him into the same position.

His feet aren’t as pretty as Connor’s when they bounce in the air. His face isn’t as alluring when he’s flushed a splotchy red and sweating.

All in all, he feels… stupid. Ungainly. He doesn’t exactly want Connor to see him like this and is squirming vaguely, but he has no leverage like this. He’s short of breath and helpless as Connor leans over him, his LED cycling a comfortable blue again and again and again. Hypnotizing.

“Are you alright, Hank?” Connor queries, voice well-modulated and seemingly only mildly curious. He is so close, the tips of their noses are almost brushing. Hank swallows. It’s difficult. His thoughts are whirling like Connor’s LED. Yellow, yellow, yellow.

Before he can speak, Connor continues: “Do you like spreading your legs like a lady, Hank? I think it suits you.”

Red.

Hank stares at him, mouth slightly agape. Has Connor… as he said-

“Your tits are quite nice, too. I am very partial to them.”

Connor’s docile, brown eyes flick down, staring at Hank’s chest; whorls of white hair cushioning what are already pretty soft pecs. Connor grabs for one, fingers splayed, squeezing obscenely, and Hank chokes on his goddamn spit.

Red, red, red. His own brain is stalling, he can’t get it to spur into action, not when Connor is above him, humming softly, LED a tranquil blue as he lowers his head and sucks one fat nipple into his pretty peach pink mouth.

One of Hank’s legs kicks uselessly in the air. Neither of them really registers. Connor is sucking, getting the nipple engorged and obscene while Hank is trying not to choke on his own spit.

When Connor finally pulls off with a lewd pop that has Hank’s face flaming, he feels faint. He can only stare at the android, obediently opening his mouth when he offers him two fingers, then immediately regretting it when they press down on his tongue and slide deep, deep, deep.

“I like your mouth,” Connor tells him, fingers sliding across Hank’s slippery tongue, gliding deep, playing with his gag reflex and watching how the Lieutenant’s face flushes a slightly alarming shade of red.

“I heard Detective Reed call my mouth a perfect cocksucker mouth. But I think he is wrong.” Connor tilts his head, the hand on Hank’s tit squeezing once again as if in parting, then sliding up and curling around the Lieutenant’s throat. “You have a lewd mouth, Lieutenant.”

Hank is gagging again and again, the hand on his throat constricting his oxygen intake just so. His eyeballs are pulsing with the quick, frantic beating of his heart, his cock echoing the pulses as if in sympathy, sticky pre-cum smearing against the lower curve of his belly.

He wants to say something, but he can’t. There is darkness crowding into his vision and all he can think about is how damnably hard and needy he is. How much he wants but can’t curl up his ass and fuck against Connor’s belly.

Connor’s head tilts. He looks like a puppy, his LED shortly flickering into yellow for the first time, then his hand just barely lets up some, allowing Hank to pull in a deep breath past the fingers pressing down on his tongue and keeping his mouth nice and wide open for Connor’s viewing pleasure.

Whatever the fuck he gets out of that.

He wants to tell him to give him more; to choke him until he’s blacking out – and where do those thoughts come from? – but all he manages is a pathetic, high-pitched whine.

Connor scrutinizes him for a moment longer, then smiles slow and magnanimous. He pulls his fingers out of Hank’s mouth, coated thick in spit, and flicks them painfully against one of Hank’s nipples.

“Show me your tits, Lieutenant. Maybe I’ll be inclined to help you out.”

Hank stares at him heavy-lidded, feeling the android’s hand still on his throat, constricting but not squeezing, and he reaches down; pushes against his soft pectorals until they are squeezed together like… like… well… a nice pair of tits.

Connor just watches, face unreadable, taking in the thick grey hair and the embarrassingly fat nipples… and then suddenly everything is very quick.

Connor surging down, his white, even teeth clamping hard around one of Hank’s nipples, biting just this side of bearable the hand on his throat starts squeezing again, and the other… oh the other has rudely and suddenly stuffed him full of two fingers, still so very slick with his own spit.

He’s fucking him, quick and dirty, finger blasting his ass like he would do for a lady, and Hank has stars exploding in his vision, cock jerking, pulsing, having a false start, then suddenly jerking out thick, creamy strings of cum while Hank’s toes cramp in the air and he shakes through all of it.

Blessedly, his brain decides to stay offline for a bit.

7th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 10th Fill

Soldier76/Endeavor – BNHA/OW crossover; predicament bondage; non-con/rape; coercion – Endeavor has found himself in a new world but its inhabitants are not willing to put up with his shit.

Soldier: 76 leans back, precariously balancing on his chair, shoulders brushing occasionally against the wall behind him. He quietly watches Endeavor’s struggle, his facemask in place to give the pro hero no lead; nothing to go on.

He’s in the room, but Endeavor could just as well be alone in his struggle for how responsive 76 is. He’s long stopped trying to rage and threaten his way out of the situation. By now all he does is try and keep his balance as he is stretched tall, throat just so constricted by a thick, Quirk dampening collar.

The whole setup is as simple as it is insidious: Arms bound behind his back, and legs kept apart with a spreader bar which has no practical reason in his mind other than the old man’s viewing pleasure.

There’s a thick rope leading from the back of his collar up into a sturdy ring in the ceiling… and down to the hook whose fat ball tip is just about breaching his hole.

He’s sweating and fatigued, throat burning from the times he’s tried to pull out of the situation by sheer desperate muscle strength, not only managing to push the hook deeper into his aching hole but also damn near strangle himself.

By now he’s almost… afraid to move this way or that. He wonders how long the old geezer is planning on keeping him like this. He wonders if any of the other idiots from his organization know what fucked up games he is playing.

Endeavor jerks when the soldier suddenly stands. Warily he watches him advance, cool blue eyes taking him in. He is powerful for a quirkless human. They all are with their respective technologies, and Endeavor is not quite sure what they are capable of.

The soldier comes to a halt in front of him. He has to tilt his head back in order to look into Endeavor’s face which is the only solace in the situation.

The silence stretches between them, only broken by Endeavor’s short, precise panting – everything to keep as still as possible. The soldier’s eyebrow twitches, but Enji does not know what it means.

He almost flinches when he suddenly speaks with a gravelly voice.

“Doused the flames, didn’t I?” Enji bares his teeth in a growl, mildly leaning towards him, yet all that he manages is the collar tightening against his throat and the hook sliding deeper into his hole.

His growl fizzles out and he rightens back up, hatred simmering quietly in his eyes while sweat springs up along his upper lip, his insides bearing down on the intruder, trying to force the hook out of him.

“You understand I had to take precautions. We don’t let just anybody join Overwatch. Given your… peculiar circumstances, though, we have no other option as to keep you at least confined.”

He pauses for a moment, one gloved hand stretching out to touch Endeavor’s lower belly just above the coarse thatch of his pubes and the undecisive, humiliating half-chub of his cock.

Enji, not wanting to get touched, tries to dance out of the way and immediately pulls the rope taut once more, the smooth metal sliding into him and pressing into his prostate.

Stars dance in front of his eyes, the lack of oxygen making everything that much more intense. He only realizes he is panting like a dog, tongue hanging out, when the derisive click of a tongue brings him somewhat back into the room.

“You are powerful. Winston and Angela are intrigued by those little parlor tricks you can do…” Those names don’t mean anything to Enji. He bares his teeth again, but it is weak. There’s no fire behind it.

Just like there is no fire in him, and the feeling of the Quirk dampening collar has him claustrophobic. His flames are a part of him just like his face, and their sudden absence makes him feel… vulnerable.

Enji Todoroki does not cope well with the feeling of vulnerability.

“Don’t look at me like that. We are no bad people here. But we do have to ensure everybody is functioning well. Listening to orders…” His gloved hand slides down, fingers curling unselfconsciously around Enji’s fat cock. Every muscle in his body tenses, fighting against the fatigue while he wills himself to remain quiet and not spear himself on the insidious hook once more. It becomes more difficult when the soldier starts weighing his cock in the palm of his hand. Getting a feeling for the heft of it.

Soldier: 76 hums, takes up where he’s left: “…Obeying orders. Say – can you be a good boy until we have figured out how you managed to stumble into our dimension? Can you… obey?”

He squeezes, the rough thumb of his gloves starting to play with Endeavor’s silky foreskin. The massive muscles in his thighs are trembling, his knees are getting weak.

He realizes with a deep seated desperation that he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. The soldier squeezes his cock unkindly, and Endeavor’s knees give way for a second, the collar pulling taut against his throat and the hook sliding in deep and smooth.

He tries to get his footing back but the spreader bar makes it weirdly difficult. He rotates mildly in the awkward hanging position he finds himself in, and only manages to drive the hook even deeper, pressing so hard into his prostate for a moment that tears spring up in his eyes, then not pressing into it but only grazing it which is… almost worse.

All the while the old soldier watches him, quiet, calculating, his hand mean and harsh on Enji’s cock.

“Will you obey?”

Enji gurgles.

Beneath the mask, Soldier: 76 smirks.