Jack was flustered as he shifted on the bed, swallowing hard as he waited for Jesse to come in on the gift he had made himself into. After Gabe told him about their adventures in bed he couldn’t help but start drooling over the idea of what paid under the younger mans damn uniform. So he took matters into his own hands, lingerie on that he had stored in his closet, and hoping Jesse was as open as Gabriel said. He hated being desperate but, he was in need of some relief.

He didn’t have to wait long, and he thought Gabriel might have had something to do with it. Maybe he’s seen the limp with which Jack had walked a few days, or he’s noticed how stiff he held his shoulders.

Either way, it is only a few minutes later that McCree strolls in and barely pauses in his wide stride, pushing the door closed behind him as he watches the Strike Commander laid out on his unmade bed.

“Well now.”

Jack shudders and closes his eyes – puts his forearm across them for good measure and angles his knees apart, the fabric of his garter combo gleaming silkily in the dim light.

“Please,” he begs and he can’t see the smirk, but he can definitely hear it as McCree drawls: “How could I say no to that?”

.o.

He notices McCree pausing for a heartbeat when he crawls close enough to see the moisture darkening the fabric of Jack’s panties, but he takes this obviously new relevation just as easily as everything else.

The man has the disposition of a farm horse and never has Jack been more thankful for it.

McCree pushes his legs apart with his wide shoulders and goes to licking slow, long drags along the slit of Morrison’s cunt, generously saturating the fabric of his dark panties with his spit before closing cheeky lips across his swollen clit to suck on it until Jack can’t help but cry out, scrabbling at McCree’s dark hair.

It hurts, but he wants more, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he angles his hips up, grinding his pussy against the lazy, rude mouth. He doesn’t realize he’s making noise, stupidly high pitched whines and near sobs, until McCree’s large hands grab his hips and press him down, his big nose dragging across the sodden fabric along the swollen labia.

“Easy now. Calm down. Everything’s gonna be alright, yeah?”

Jack grits his teeth and presses the balls of his hands against his burning eyes.

“Daddy, please,” he grunts. He feels himself flush, embarrassment curling in his belly until he feels nauseous. He knows Gabriel is playing this game with Jesse but suddenly he thinks McCree might not want to play it with him. Might not be as easy after all and get angry for Jack’s presumptions…

But then he is crawling up, huge hot body ranging above Jack, and his cock is out and dragging along his cunt, teasing with the blunt press across the panties that Jack would rip in a second if he didn’t get what he needed.

“Easy. Eaaasy. There – I got exactly whatchu want. You need a good big cock, don’tcha? Yeah. Yeah, that’s what you need. Don’t worry, I got it right here. Daddy’s got it right… here…”

Jesse has reached down to hook his fingers into the leg hole and push the panties to the side and now he grunts as he dips just the very tip of his cock into Jack’s cunt.

Jack thinks McCree might just be going cross-eyed at the feeling of the molten heat he is nudging into, but it is hard to concentrate on anything when he is getting filled slowly, slowly, no mercy and no hesitation as McCree works his sturdy hips to fuck into him deeper and deeper; every little rocking motion sliding him in a couple inches more until Jack is gritting his teeth and scrabbling at McCree’s shoulders, digging his fingers into his armor because the guy hasn’t even put off his clothes – just opened his pants and got his cock out to satisfy that special itch of the Strike Commander.

“Fuck,” McCree swears, low and heart felt, his cock so big, stretching Jack to the max and making his insides throb in a dull, delicious ache. “That’s a nice cunt. Fuck.”

Jack gnashes his teeth and arches his head back, fingers moving, frantically grabbing at McCree’s hair, then digging blunt into the back of his neck.

“More. More, please,” he rasps. He doesn’t know if he’s ever been filled so completely, so fully, so to the utter maximum what he could take – what he thought he could take. His cunt hurt and his insides throbbed. He could feel McCree’s cock flexing inside him and it makes a small, premature orgasm shiver through him and end in his curling, spasming toes.

“Daddy, please.”

“Shush, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna give it to ya. Fuck. Got such a nice. Goddamn. Cunt.”

As much as he loved it – how his daddy fucked him slowly, deeply, overwhelming him till his awareness became nothing but the cock filling him, he hated how lazy he would be. Especially when he said “how about you choose darling'” already reclining against the mass of pillows behind him.

Because Jesse knew how this would go; Hanzo crawling towards him, mouth already watering at the sight of the dark, fat cock lying in the crease of one thigh.

He’d do all the work; drooling all over it in his greed to fuck his throat, going cross-eyed with the intense presence of Jesse all around him; his large thighs bracketing him securely; his warmth almost sweltering; his scent overpowering his senses – and McCree would simply enjoy the attentions, playing with Hanzo’s hair idly, calling him the sweetest pet names and sometimes, occasionally he would lift his sturdy hips and nudge his cock just a little deeper to hear Hanzo gag on it; see his eyes fill up with tears.

“That’s it,” he’d coo, “You love Daddy’s cock.”

And Hanzo did. He loved Jesse’s dick; he loved his huge, hairy thighs and his wide, sturdy hips. He loved his hirsute belly and broad shoulders. He loved how broad he was; so broad that even a grown men like he was feeling dwarfed and small.

Secure.

Stupidly, idiotically secure to a point he whispered the endearment once as he rode him, everything so overwhelming, so all consuming, his leg stumps tingling and his fingers twisting into McCree’s chest hair as he took all of his cock until he was sure he had to feel it in the back of his throat; and he’d not even realized he’d whimpered a small, pathetic sounding ‘Daddy’ in midst of the throaty, animalistic groans…

He’d just love it even more if Daddy would dick him down with it too; hold him against the mattress and make him take it. Fill him up until Hanzo felt like begging him to stop; that there couldn’t be even an inch more he could take; that Jesse had to stop cramming that fat, heavy cock into him because otherwise he had to… he… had to…

“Please,” Hanzo whispers, eyes clenched shut, high cheekbones dark with color. He is not well suited to begging. He feels exposed and ridiculous. Enough so that he can feel himself getting mean; can feel the sharp edges just beneath his skin, threatening to lash out at Jesse if he so much as chuckled right now-

“Aw hell, darlin,” the man rumbles. He can hear him move and shift around. He can feel him, too; the mattress dipping and groaning under his weight. “How could I say no to such a sweet invitation?”

And Hanzo gets what he wants – just not in the way he envisioned. It is so much… so much better as McCree crawls over him like a mountain, his strong barrel chest to Hanzo’s shoulder blades, pressing him down as an affectionate, scruffy chin nuzzles the side of his face.

He can barely breathe beneath him. McCree is pressing him down and filling him up in little rolls of his meaty hips and Hanzo can barely get in enough air to gasp.

Jesse fucks like a wave; slow and gentle and unrelenting and Hanzo just about manages to curl his arms around the man’s biceps and hold on as he lets himself get washed away; eyes wide open and unseeing, groaning low, throaty ‘Daddy’s and then, when his cock – wet and swollen and trapped somewhere in the tangle of sheets – jerks and his balls start pulsing in a way that is almost painful, he croaks one ‘Otōsan’.

“My sweet boy,” Jesse sighs above him, one huge paw curling beneath Hanzo’s throat, thumb and forefinger framing his jaw; cradling his chin on his palm as he rocks into him; his orgasm not anywhere close. “Daddy’s so proud of you. Giving him your gorgeous body. What a good little boy you are.”

He hated how he got like this. How he needed it, the relief of the word out of his mouth. The shame of it washing over him.

But it was undeniable all the same; he arched his ass up, offering the sweet, warm slit of his hole to Jesse McCree and he sounded like he was choking as he rasped “Daddy…”

He pressed his face into his arms, refusing to look back and see McCree’s smug face. His hands were huge on Gabriel’s hips, squeezing, feeling up how broad they were. How sturdy.

Still, Gabriel felt goddamn small compared to Jesse. He’d filled out almost violently in his time here; the scrawny, mouthy kid suddenly a lumbering tree; tall and thick and hairy.

Gabriel could feel the crisp, dark hair tickling him as he got pulled onto Jesse’s lap, the slide slow and inexorable. There was no way to escape McCree’s lazy dominance. His cocksure knowledge that Gabriel Reyes was in love with his dick and would never deny it.

His thighs are huge and warm and rock hard, forcing Gabriel to spread his knees father; to accommodate their sheer width.

“That’s it,” McCree croons, indistinct, a cigar clamped between his teeth. “What a sweet little hole you have. Such a gorgeous little peach; just for me.”

Gabriel moves his knees, shifts his legs, digs his toes into the bedding. He is restless, his thighs quivering, large chest heaving as he arches some more – offers himself up, cock swinging heavily between his thighs. It feels like a hot, pulsing wound; stuffed full.

He can feel McCree’s lazy regard. He’s never been impatient; always slow and deliberate; almost obtuse in his fucking. Gabriel had no idea where he learned how to work his body like he did.

McCree shifts behind him. Gabriel can hear him slowly, deeply inhale – and then exhale, the tickle of the smoke blowing in a steady, gentle stream against his clenching hole.

“All just for me,” Jesse purrs and Gabriel almost swallows his tongue.

“Da-…”

Jesse maneuvers him and angles him; using his Commander’s body, slipping the fat, blunt tip of his cock into that warm, prepared space. Gabriel can feel his eyes tear up with the stretch; can feel his tongue starting to loll out because it’s that or try and scramble away from the mind boggling pressure; the feeling of sheer, dumbfounding fullness as McCree starts rocking in slowly, making him stretch, stretch, stretch, filling him up, up, up; one huge hand on Gabriel’s round hip – the other petting him, rubbing soothingly across his back.

“Good boy,” Jesse hums. He shifts, finally, goes up onto his knees and ranges across Gabriel’s body – lets him feel how huge the kid had gotten; his massive thighs slotted in right behind Gabriel’s. “God, you feel so good. Perfect cunt for daddy. Perfect, goddamn cunt.”

Gabriel can’t breathe; the cock has filled out his whole being and doesn’t let him take any more air in. His belly feels swollen; hot. Like he’s filled with warm stones. He feels like he has to be bloated with McCree’s dick. He wants him out. He wants him away. He wants him to move and fuck him and curl one of his thick, hairy arms across Gabriel’s chest and hold him tenderly as he rocked into him.

McCree seemed incapable of really fucking. Maybe he was too lazy. Maybe he was not interested in a quick, hard slap of hips.

All he did was rock and make Gabriel crazy on the length of his barely shifting dick.

“Daddy,” Gabriel whispered, explosively, the shame cresting within him, nipples going hard and painfully sensitive. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy…”

“I gotcha,” McCree rumbles, rubs his unkempt beard against Gabriel’s shoulder. “Gotcha. What a perfect little cunt. What a sweet little peach.”