11th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 5th Fill

McHanzo – continuation of this ficlet – nipple play; inverted nipples; dom/sub; 300 words – McCree continues to teach Hanzo.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jesse admonishes gently when Hanzo lifts his hips up into him. He’s trying to feel some friction; to make the massive girth spreading him open a little less substantial. It always helps when Jesse moves, dragging along his rim, getting it swollen and pouty and loose with use.

Having him in his guts, fat and decidedly unmoving seems to be too much. There’s no delicious friction, no pressure against his prostate to tide him over the feeling of being filled to the brim; to a point where he has to feel like his belly is distended from the cock inside him… and the whole ordeal makes Hanzo whiny and squirmy.

Trying to fuck himself if Jesse is unwilling to do the work.

Jesse tries to keep him still, but Hanzo is a crafty little bitch and he has to change tactics. He grunts as he has to manhandle Hanzo around, but finally he’s on his back with Hanzo lying on top of him. There’s not much leverage to be hand like this and Hanzo starts sluggishly fighting it until Jesse has his hands back on his tits, both thumbs and forefingers grabbing a hold of his pudgy, soft nipples and squeezing down meanly until he gets very still again.

“There you go,” Jesse mutters, moving his fingers as if rolling a nipple between the rough tips; but of course Hanzo’s are still hidden away in the puffy flesh of his areolas. He seems to like it regardless.

He whines obediently and gets squirmy and nervous again, his cock painfully hard looking as his insides squeeze down on Jesse’s cock; the silky, hungry guts just holding on to him as he his body tries to understand that the good feelings come from his slutty tits and not the big cock spreading him.

“Good boy,” Jesse rasps into Hanzo’s ear, a bit breathless by the substantial weight of the other man pressing down on him. “There you go. You can come whenever you want, babydoll. That’s it.”

Hanzo is a quick learner. He will *understand*.

Gift/Exchange for Severeni :3c

@severeni (who… tumblr doesn’t let me add…) and I have had a good hot exchange going. I get a super delicious pic of Endeavor (link) and they get a fic of their choice >:3c

They wanted Hanzo’s dick getting stuffed by a special sound + some unsatisfying orgasm and that’s what they get >:3ccccc (tiny bit of cbt at the end)

They’ve had worked their way up to Hanzo letting himself get blindfolded as he’s getting his cock stuffed with sleek, slicked-up metal rods, but this time they’ve opted out of it because Hanzo needs to watch the proceedings. Jesse doesn’t begrudge him the urge. The new sound is scary looking after all: a thin metal rod with fat metal pearls crafted along its length to keep them stationary as it got carefully pushed into the tiny tender hole at the crown of a waiting cock.

The circumference of the pearls should not be too much of a challenge. They’ve already had tried out bigger – if only slightly so – rods… but the this new toy still looks daunting, lying at the end of a row of their normal practice sounds that Jesse will use to work Hanzo up to the main event.

He’s currently carefully pushing the second rod into Hanzo’s cock; one hand holding the lovely dick steady as the other delicately rolls the metal between two fingers as he slowly stuffs Hanzo‘s urethra. Fucks him from inside out.

When he glances up, Hanzo’s eyes are staring down at him, big and luminous. They’re a true, deep black like this in the murky twilight of Jesse’s shitty bedside lamp. After all, even in good light Jesse has trouble to distinct the iris from the pupils.

Jesse keeps watching him as he carefully nudges the rod just a little deeper, lube bubbling up around the little hole he’s fucking, and Hanzo’s face crumbles. For a second he looks almost boyish despite the liberal grey at his temples and in the thick happy trail on his lower abdomen.

He whines and squirms, his hands reaching for his crotch but he can keep himself from interfering at the last second. He flexes his fingers and lets his hands fall limp to the mattress. The big muscles in his thighs are tense.

“Want me to help you keep your hands to yourself, babydoll?” Jesse murmurs, not unkindly. Hanzo nods a bit jerkily and Jesse keeps one hand on his cock, blindly groping around the bed until he finds his old stetson. He puts it on Hanzo’s head and Hanzo automatically reaches up and curls his fingers around the wide brim.

“Now. Don’t let it fall. And don’t get a crinkle in there, right?”

Hanzo nods, his eyes now just two vaguely wet glints in the darkness of the shadow cast on his face by the hat. He carefully unclenches his fingers somewhat and holds on more carefully, arms nice and out of the way while Jesse hunkers back down and pulls the rod out, exchanging it for a third, thicker one.

Hanzo whines when it goes into his cock.

His breathing is deep and labored.

“How’s it feel?”

“Burns,” Hanzo groans, voice deep and wrecked. God, he sounds so fucked out. Jesse moves his hips, humping into the mattress as he carefully fucks Hanzo’s cock with the cool, sleek sounding rod. “So f-full…”

He’s clutching at the brim of the hat again, pulling it down low on his head. It looks awfully cute in Jesse’s opinion. He gives him a few minutes; lets him sink deeper into the feeling of the gentle burn coming with getting his urethra fucked. His cock feels so very very hot and fat in Jesse’s hand. Hanzo’s legs are restless, the heels dragging along the bed again and again; but with Jesse between his thighs, he can’t close up, and as long as his hips keep still Jesse does not mind him going a bit stir crazy.

Hanzo usually reacts well to that claustrophobic feeling in his belly when he knows he can’t get away and has to endure whatever Jesse dishes out.

When he becomes calm again, his breathing a bit wet sounding as his muscles become slack, Jesse thinks he’s ready for *it*. When he carefully pulls the third rod out, Hanzo seems to forcefully shake his lethargy off, however. He shoves the hat up again for a better view of the proceedings, cheeks a feverish cherry red, and face a glistening with sweat. His eyes look so dazed, like it physically hurts him to make himself come back up from the deep headspace he’s been in. Jesse almost wants to admonish him, but he stays quiet and lets him do his thing. He wants to see what’ll happen. He wants to be *alert*.

He knows what’s coming next, after all.

He is clearly nervous as he watches Jesse take the new rod. His legs tremble and the big muscles in his thighs jump as he fights against his gut reaction to close his thighs and shield his poor cock from what looks like a grotesque violation.

Still, his cock flexes in Jesse‘s grip, interested and downright eager. It is flushed a dark ruddy red and feels blood hot to the touch. Jesse leans in, pressing open-mouthed suckling kisses along the swollen shaft, eyes flirtatiously rolled up towards Hanzo.

It seems to do the trick: the archer calms back down, taking deep breaths to center himself. He squirms, looking for a comfortable position, and while he grabs for another pillow to stuff behind his back, Jesse eyes the gently stretched hole at the swollen tip of his cock. It looks obscene and a bit inflamed almost. There is a definite hurt flush on the tender edges that makes Jesse hot and needy. The knowledge that Hanzo willingly – eagerly, even – lets Jesse fuck him up is… so good.

His thumb skirts the edges of the hole, nail gently pressing against it and Hanzo hisses, throwing him a queer look that’s hovering between lustful and annoyed.

Finally, they are ready. Jesse can hear Hanzo‘s breaths: already quick and only getting quicker with the first fat little pearl reaching his cock.

His hands are up at the stetson‘s brim once more, clutching it for dear life. Jesse wants to run a soothing hand along his thigh but does not have any free to do so. Instead he drags his chin along the archer‘s skin, letting him feel the rough rasp of his beard.

And then it happens: Jesse does not make it more exciting than it already is. His ears grow hot as Hanzo starts whining. The sound grows as the first pearl starts spreading his hole. Hanzo is tight as a bow string and Jesse forgets to fuck into the bedding as he watches the little bump vanish inside Hanzo‘s cock.

And then the next. And the next. Hanzo‘s mouth is dropped open, lips wet. He‘s just short of drooling as his head falls back, his hands still clutching the rim seemingly on auto pilot.

Jesse starts fucking him with the rod. Slow, careful, yet unrelenting.

He needs to see it: the fat little pearls opening Hanzo‘s tight hole up again and again. Fucking him in a way that has never been intended…

Before he can prod Hanzo into talking, the archer suddenly starts babbling all on his own.

“So full, oh God… Jesse-” The last note hangs in the air, shivery and long. Jesse suddenly is aware again of his own cock. How it is so hard it hurts; digging into the bedding, getting it wet with his excitement making everything damp.

He‘s never been one prone to a lot of pre-cum, but Hanzo has changed that. He‘s changed a lot in Jesse‘s life, come to that, but this is one of the more amusing things. How Hanzo gets him so painfully, desperately horny that his dick becomes a wet, excited mess…

„You love it, don‘t you, babydoll? Love it when I fuck your gorgeous cock with some metal. Bet you would love getting it pierced with a nice fat Prince Albert. You‘d show the poor piercer what a dirty slut you are… getting so easily hard just at the prospect of getting your hole permanently spread on some nice metal…“

Hanzo is panting, cock flexing as much as possible with a sound fucked deep down its urethra, and his body becomes nervous and shivery. Jesse knows what it means when Hanzo starts squirming like that, dragging his ass along the sheets like an unfixed cat. He lets go of Hanzo‘s cock in favor of trying to keep him still while he begins moving the rod more erratically.

He drags out two metal balls, then stuffs one back into that small, tender hole somewhat rudely, then immediately pulls it out once more…

Hanzo is getting louder. He is just short of howling, sounding like he’s getting tortured – he is – and clamping his thighs shut around Jesse’s shoulders. Jesse thinks that next time he needs to truss him up. Make sure he‘s nice and helpless while Jesse has his way with him…

„Gonna come for me?“ he rasps, his own hips flexing, fucking into the damp bedding, balls feeling stuffed full. He can only imagine how Hanzo must feel. Probably like he is about to burst; abdomen feverishly hot from his cock getting fucked by the new wicked sounding rod.

Hanzo nods, a high whine stuck in his throat, hands still mindlessly obedient on the brim of Jesse‘s hat.

“Tell me when you have to shoot.“

It does not take long. Not at all. Just three more passes of the fat pearls stretching Hanzo‘s tender piss hole impossibly wide and he‘s suddenly babbling.

“Gonnacumgonnacumgonna-”

Jesse moves quick but calm. He gets his hand back on Hanzo’s cock just to keep it carefully still as he pulls the sound from him. It is quick and causes maybe a bit more hurt than intended, but Hanzo is drooling for it now; living for the burning, mild pain.

As soon as the sound is gone, he lets go completely, and, after a quick considering look into Hanzo’s red face, gives the painfully hard cock a short sharp slap.

Hanzo convulses once with a hoarse sob.

His body has a false start, his eyes big and luminous and wet under the brim of Jesse‘s hat as he stutters out his orgasm in jerky, unsatisfying waves. Cum dribbles out of him and pools in his groin.

Jesse looks at him with no small amount of smugness, gaze hot as he slowly curls his hand back around Hanzo’s dick.

“Liked that?“

Hanzo closes his eyes like he‘s in pain, but his cock flexes obediently in Jesse’s grip.

“Ready for round two?“

4th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 4th Fill

Hanzo/Sojiro/Genji – rough sex; consensual; daddy kink; slight Dom/sub; mention of Sojiro/mother Shimada – Hanzo and Genji accidentally find themselves back in time though still at their current age. Their father puts up no resistance to them taking the reigns.

They suspect that Sojiro must suspect something. He is a frighteningly intelligent man, after all – his cunning not just the exaggeration of their adoring and mildly terrified child minds. He’s paused as they bowed in front of him, dark eyes sharp, the corner of his mouth tucked shrewdly downwards as he studied them…

But he’s never said anything, and they’d never offered to explain. It is too fantastic a story anyway: them, the future selves of the sons that are strolling around the estate, thrown back in time by a freak accident.

He might even believe them, but he would never say so openly, of course. He never asks them for their names. They wonder what he calls them in his mind when they coax him into his own bedroom, walking through it like it belongs to them, and pulling haphazardly at his robes until they hang lewdly off his body; showing off his broad shoulders and trim waist.

His thick, hairy thighs. The meaty, plump swell of his ass presented readily by the old-fashioned fundoshi he is wearing.

They are about to find out, though.

.o.

Mostly, he is quiet at the beginning. Just deep, labored breaths that occasionally peak into small, near distressed sounds that have the both of them pause and eye each other, their worlds tilting as they try to align the sound of the needy, undignified noises with the picture of their regal, stone-like father.

It excites them to feel how very human he is beneath the unswaying, cruel exterior.

He is touch starved. He turns into their hands and mouths eagerly; lets his mouth hang open, tongue lolling even when they don’t put it to use on Genji’s scarred cock or Hanzo’s greedy hole.

(And what an enlightenment that has been: their father, on his hands and knees, yukata askew like a whore, face buried in his son’s ass and peacefully licking at his rim.)

He mewls for them with every pluck of his rosy, plump nipples – inherited by Hanzo – and every pass of a rough fingertip across his plump, lewd hole.

It has not been their first thought when they’ve found themselves in strangely familiar surroundings – but it’s been not far off when they’ve stood in front of their father for the first time in twenty odd years and realized just how magnificent he looks and just how much they used to desire him.

Granted, their boyish fantasies had been different; with them on their backs and their legs spread whorishly – but they find the opposite is even more pleasing.

“Hold him for me,” Genji tells him, voice not as robotic without his visor but still as calm and pleasing. Hanzo slides into position at their father’s head, placid, not caring about being ordered around by his younger brother.

He hooks his hands behind Sojiro’s knees and pulls them up and apart; folding their regal oto-san into a fine little package until he wheezes out a long, distressed whine, his cheeks a dark cherry red as his ass curves up into the air, cheeks spread and exposing the obscene pout of his hole.

“It always looks so lewd,” Genji murmurs as he idly puts himself on his belly, breath fanning across the exposed, sensitive part. “If I didn’t know better I would think you get fucked by your guards every night.”

“Ah,” their father says, and then follows, even more softly: “No…”

Genji pauses, glances up. There’s an old mischief in his eyes as he presses a single kiss square against the pout of his asshole, greying beard tickling undoubtedly.

“No?” he queries, and their father squirms as well as he can. He looks so approachable like this; folded in half, showing his goods off to his sons. The knowledge that he can be embarrassed is fucking with Hanzo’s head. He tunes out as Genji keeps needling their father while he works his way up to his big, ruddy red cock, lying against his belly in a nest of coarse hair that’s just this side of unruly and poses an almost sickening source of fascination for both his sons.

Instead he stares at the shell of Sojiro’s ear; watches how hot and red it becomes. Thinks, disjointedly That’s how I look when I’m aroused; and lets his gaze wander further at the swell of his tits peeking out of the untidy folds of his ruined yukata.

Hanzo wants to touch them. He wants to get his hands on them like so many men did with him: take rough hand fulls and squeeze them together. Slap them. Pinch the nipples. Use his father like a common street slut.

The blood is roaring in his ears, his hands sweating and shaking where they still hold Sojiro’s legs, his feet high in the air. Undignified.

Showing himself off and not putting up an ounce of protest.

He’s never protested any of their advances. Like he’s known forever how this exchange would go. Like he’s been waiting for someone to degrade him and put him in his rightful place.

Speared on a fat cock that can warm his cold interior up nicely.

Like Genji does now: Pressing a last, suckling kiss at the violently red tip of their father’s cock before rearranging himself.

Hanzo can let go when he’s above them, squatting down with his legs bracketing their father’s body, his thighs keeping Sojiro pinned like a bug.

Undignified. Sojiro is so undignified. Whining for their cocks. Letting them put him in whatever positions they damn well please. Degrading him.

Genji raws him, fucks his nearly dry cock into the ridiculous, lewd pout of their father’s ass, and Sojiro does not even pretend he is distressed about the harsh pain from it.

Genji has him in a mating press, fucking down into Sojiro’s ass, curved up and presented, spreading his tender, slick insides out on his cock and frowning at the sensations that are almost too sharp to be pleasurable – and it is then that Sojiro says it, arms scrambling up and trying to grab at Hanzo, fingers curling into his garments and holding on for dear life: “D-Daddy…”

It is spoken quietly, breathy, fucked out of him by Genji’s unrelenting, calm thrusts, like the word has been stuck somewhere and been forced out by the fat cock that is trying so desperately to deep dick him right into his belly.

He sounds shameful, eyes slitted in pleasure, staring at Genji’s face that looks so very much like Sojiro’s own.

And maybe it is their own shame that it does not deter them in the least – does, in fact, spur them into action even more, Hanzo’s cock jerking, wetting against his own underwear as their father’s cheeks get a darker shade of ruddy red, his bulky cock jerking where it lies unattended against his scrunched-up belly.

“Say it again,” Genji rasps, thrusts punishing; fucking deep into their father with loud, obscene slaps that have Sojiro throw his head back, throat thick and flushing as he pants through the pain of getting rawed by the cyborg, veins pulsing visibly.

“Say it!” Genji hisses, his earlier calm demeanor broken by the sudden, visceral need to have their father submit even more; have him supplicate himself before them.

And here, too, Sojiro does not put up any fights. He pants, open-mouthed and canine, tongue lolling, undignified. Dishonorable.

“Daddy.”

.o.

Hanzo has to have him afterwards. They turn him around; arrange their oto-san however they please and delight in how eager he is; arching his back and offering up his hole, bloomed open and brick red as his cheeks. Raw and painful looking but still needy for Genji’s cock to slip in and get it hot and aching for him.

His throat is soft and squeezing down on Hanzo. He only needs to guide him into the general direction before he gets the drift and pounces on it; chokes himself on cock and gags almost dutifully when Hanzo pushes in carefully, fucking against his soft palate and the squishy back of his throat.

He’s clumsy, but he’s still a cockwhore. He wants them to teach him, and he is shockingly open about it.

Hanzo remembers suddenly vague snippets of memory; of seeing their mother glide and their father following like a puppy. Of seeing her grab his hand and digging her nails into the tender skin at his wrist until he relents to whatever negotiations were happening at the time.

Of peeking through the sliding doors of their shared bedroom and seeing their father supplicated before her, dutifully dragging his tongue along the juicy slit of her cunt as she idly plays with a riding crop, ready to put another stripe to the assortment scattered along his back.

He must have been lonely, after her passing. Looking desperately for someone to hurt him in just the right ways. Someone to tell him what to do and how.

Hanzo feels strangely proud at being able to continue the family tradition and train their father to be a perfect cockslut.

Dom!Akande bottoming for a jittery virgin service top (Lucio maybe?). Purring like a housecat and coaxing his partner through it, telling him how good he’s doing. Big, gorgeous Akande sprawled in the sheets and letting his sub do all the work.

His kitten hadn’t been expecting this.

They’ve spent their evening like so many others, quietly in front of the large TV, the news continuously playing as Akande sipped at his wine and Lúcio kneeled between his legs, lulled into a dopey half-sleep as big, blunt fingers rubbed behind his ears.

He had thought they’d end this night as they did others: Lúcio hugging one of the big, luxurious pillows to his chest as he got held down and made to take Akande’s fat, heavy cock, eyes narrowed to slits as he drooled into the fabric, feeling the cock stretch his guts slow an inexorable.

Akande delights in the little whines of his kitten, stretching slowly, showing off the powerful curves of his body, big round muscles trembling as he holds the tension for a few seconds before letting go. He lies with his arms up over his head; making himself defenseless, thick thighs spread to accommodate Lúcio’s slim hips as the kitten held onto his sturdy waist.

His cock was a warm, comfortable stretch, rim generously slick; stretched lovingly by Lúcio’s quick, clever fingers. This, at least, he had been accustomed to: Akande liked feeling the nimble digits inside him, patiently rounding his prostate as Lúcio dutifully nuzzled and drooled around his cock, docile brown gaze looking up at him with nothing short of adoration.

Being allowed to fuck, however – that was new.

Akande closed his eyes, stretched out his throat; letting Lúcio play without his intense gaze intimidating him.

Still, he could feel the sleek, pretty cock flex inside him already; near twitching as Lúcio’s hips stuttered and his voice cracked on a pathetic, breathy moan.

Akande moved lazily, insides clenching; hugging around the lovely cock of his submissive – and Lúcio falls forward, frantically whining “Nonono, don’t” as his blunt fingernails scratch across the large expanse of Akande’s chest. A kitten marking up the large, predatory cat.

“You’re doing so well,” Akande assures him, voice measured, a faint lilt of amusement to it. “So good and obedient for me.”

When he looks, Lúcio’s eyes are clenched shut, his teeth buried in his bottom lip. He tries hard to stave off his orgasm; tries so valiantly to be good for him – but it only takes three sloppy, jerky thrusts before he comes; getting Akande warm and sticky inside as he groans and shudders through his little premature orgasm.

“That’s quite alright,” Akande purrs, reaching for him; large palm cupping the side of Lúcio’s face and blunt fingertips rubbing behind his ear. “We have all night.”

I’m sorry to have to add another doomfist ask to the pile but Doomfist pissing on Reaper… maybe in the talon communal showers. He’s so humiliated but obediently opens his mouth when doomfist squeezes his throat a little bit.

Akande holds Reaper how he needs him, big hand around his jaw, keeping his head tilted to press bruising kisses against his mouth.

When he feels like he’s had enough of a fill, he pulls back, watching Gabriel’s dazed expression. He pats his cheek, a little harder than necessary; it earns him a half-hearted gnashing of teeth.

“Down. On your knees.”

A stubborn glint enter’s Gabriel’s eyes; even naked and wet, he thinks that he can have shreds of dignity. Akande smiles; close mouthed and indulgent. He doesn’t pay attention to the other operatives milling around, furtively glancing at the big, naked men beneath the showers.

“I said: Down. I have a need.” His hand travels from Gabriel’s cheek to his throat, fingers curling around without squeezing. Still, he can feel Gabriel’s forced swallow against his palm. “And you will service me, isn’t that right, my Gabriel? You still have a duty to fulfil.”

He leans close when Reaper is still stubborn, mouth set in a tight line. He has to curl down a little to bring his mouth against Gabriel’s ear; towering above him.

“You have failed me once already, Gabriel. You don’t want to add to your burden, do you?”

Another heartbeat passes without anything happening, and then Reaper falls to his knees, head tilted up, defiant gaze fixed on him.

Doomfist smirks. He doesn’t care; the defiance will be wiped off of his face soon enough. He braces himself with one arm against the tiled wall; feet shuffling apart.

Gabriel’s eyes twitch down towards the massive cock in his fist just in time to get hit by the thick stream of piss against his cheek. He has to close his eyes, then, the corners of his mouth turned down as he feels the hot stream sluice down his neck and across his pec.

Akande sighs, relieved. He closes his eyes just for a second before glancing down once more, nudging the spongy tip against Gabriel’s lips – and Gabriel opens up, without needing to be prompted, tongue curling out, letting Akande piss across the flat surface before slotting the crown just inside his mouth; pissing clean down his throat as Reaper’s eyes go soft and submissive, shoulders relaxing from their tight, stubborn tilt.

Doomfist smirks. It seems he knew better what Gabriel needed than Gabriel himself.

How quickly the defiance had bled out of him; it seems he only needs a belly full of piss to put him back into his place.

Hi Cyber – soooo I was thinking today about Dva and how she sometimes watches tv and can’t really focus unless Soldier is hunkered up underneath her little skirt, licking her and licking her. She ignores him completely but every so often she’ll shiver or squeak and maybe even have a little baby orgasm. But she won’t let him stop licking her until her episode is done. Maybe she’ll even watch two or three in a row.

“Hey, you!”

Her sharp command gets softened with a sweet little smile and her pink painted nail curling coyly to beckon him closer. “C’mere big boy. I got work for you.”

Jack watches her carefully over the rim of his thin, silver rimmed glasses. For a second his pale eyes flinch away and back towards his rifle lying across her desk – adorned with bunny stickers and pictures of her, Lúcio and Zenyatta – then back to her.

He flexes his big, oil-stained hands slowly. She can feel her belly grow tight just watching them; square and rough with big, blunt fingers that she’s ridden more often than she probably has put her own fingers up her cunt.

When he looks back at her, she smirks and wriggles her small, naked toes as she extends one leg and nudges his knee. She isn’t wearing anything beneath her airy, white skirt and his pale eyes immediately zero in on the dark patch of hair between her thighs; already glinting with slick.

His nostrils flare as he inhales sharply and then stands up with a jerk.

Before he can get to work, however, he has to clean his hands.

.o.

Just half a year ago, this would have been a fight. He probably would have sat on the floor, licking her for five minutes before those big, warm hands would have begun to wander without permission; square fingertips trying to tickle her asshole or slip into the humid gash of her cunt.

As it is now, he has been well trained.

Hana lies bonelessly in her armchair, naked legs thrown across his broad shoulders, fingers absentmindedly playing with his short, white hair as he worked underneath her skirt.

Sometimes, his nose would bump against the fat swell of her clit, and she would grunt, electricity flaring for a bright, addicting moment, coursing down towards her toes and then spreading in a warm, sensual arousal.

Most of the time his motions were slow and unhurried and monotonous. His tongue dragged through her cunt slow and unerringly like a wave, beard rough chin nudging against her clenching opening, getting the tender edges almost painfully sensitive.

The monotony made the times he varied the motions even more exciting; curling his tongue beneath her fat clit, cradling it against the silky surface to give it a special flick; a well placed hard suck that made her see stars and had her pause her show for a moment, tits feeling painfully tight and sensitive atop her chest.

A cheeky tongue delving deeper, rounding the tight clench of her anus and dragging across the flinching center until she had to pull him back up again…

He could keep it up for an admirably long time; leaning away to take a swig of water when he heard the beginning melody of the next episode, his lips bright red and swollen, just like her labia – his eyes still fixed on her candy red center, tongue almost lolling out of his head when she reaches down and spreads her swollen labia for his viewing pleasure; lets him watch as she dips one small finger into her tender opening to fuck herself and show him what he could not have.

Maybe she would ride his fingers later; or get on all fours and grind back against his face while he fucked his fleshlight.

Maybe she would go and visit one of her other toys, however. Take him with her and let him watch as another got to sample all the built up tension that he put into her, servicing her cunt diligently for an hour.

Yeah… maybe she’d do that.

here ya go! Morrison getting his tiddies fucked :3

this is kind of an AU where the fallout never happened.

Jesse might have filled out since Gabriel had pulled him out of Deadlock – might have, in fact, filled out a little too much, belly having gotten soft and hairy with the years – but he still was the same stupid kid from back then.

He still fumbled his words when he got excited, mouth hanging open, barrel chest heaving, none of that lazy cowboy charm to be found when his cock was already lifting from the wild nest of curls he had cultivated himself.

Well. Maybe it was a little endearing; how he got almost shy watching Jack on the bed, large hands balling into fists at his sides and then relaxing again, fingers moving as if they hurt.

“Oh wow. I… wow.”

His shaggy beard touches his chest as he nervously shoves himself forward onto the edge of the mattress, knees almost touching Jack’s hips.

Gabriel leans back in his chair, chin braced on the palm of one hand, watching the delicious contrast of burly, hairy Jesse next to the golden boy.

“You only gonna watch him?”

Jesse startles, throwing a short sidelong glance at his old mentor sitting not too far to the side.

“No,” he mumbles, then stretches out his hand, blunt fingertips touching the side of Jack’s torso, pushing against the hard ridges of his ribs. Gabriel can see the shudder going through the Soldier’s body, how he tilts his greying head back into the pillow, eyes closing, mouth going soft and needy.

He’s been anticipating this for weeks, it seems. Maybe months, even – who knew how long he’s had to hype himself up for finally going and asking Gabriel for what was his; watching Jesse secretly, staring at the loose bulge of his swinging dick whenever the cowboy swaggers across base – wanting to have that big cock that Jesse so naively showed off with his lack of underwear and decorum.

Gabriel wonders if Jack had thought it go like this, though: Jesse being a fumbling, nervous idiot and Gabriel sitting to the side, directing them. Both his… what – submissives? Slaves? Boyfriends? in one room at last.

“Do you like him, Jesse?” he asks, voice pitched to a low purr as he watches McCree’s hand move, sliding onto Jack’s belly where it splays, touching the hard won muscles that he himself did not possess. “You like how pretty he is? A little doll for you to play with.”

Jack is a tall man; imposing, even, when stuffed out in all his regalia and standing in front of a slew of soldiers.

Next to Jesse, however – that sheer hairy bulk, all that warm, brown skin – he looks unreal; like a thing made out of paper, ready to get crumbled up and torn apart. He seems ready for it, too, when he sees Jesse nodding mutely, mouth still hanging open in wonder, cock swelling a little more.

Jesse never needs much to get excited.

“He has lovely tits, don’t you think?” Gabriel prods further, shifting forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “I know for a fact that they’re very sensitive. Jack loves getting them played with. I got so many pretty clamps for him.”

Through the shaggy fall of Jesse’s uncombed hair, Gabriel can see his ears lighting up like a lamp, warm and red as McCree first shoots him a small, needy gaze – wanting, obviously needing to see those little toys for himself one of these days – then looks back at Jack and the generous swell of his pecs, his nipples sitting small and candy pink right there for the taking.

His chest moves in tantalizing ups and downs, almost heaving as he feels the gaze of both men riveted on him.

Jesse reaches for one peaked tip almost hesitatingly, blunt fingertips catching it and squeezing carefully.

Jack groans, throwing one arm across his eyes, bows his back up into the feeling and lets Jesse do as he wishes.

“C-Commander…”

Gabriel grins slow with a lot of teeth, eyes crinkling at the corners and the chair groaning faintly beneath his weight when he angles himself forward even more.

“Why don’t you mount up, cowboy? He’s been wanting to say hello to your cock for a while now. You shouldn’t leave him hanging.”

McCree murmurs something under his breath, hand curling around his cock, giving it a little squeeze as he pinches again, carefully, then pulls a little for good measure just to watch how Morrison’s flush starts creeping down from his ears into his cheeks and towards his throat.

“How far does that pretty lil’ blush go?” he asks, the drawl more pronounced than usual, making it difficult to understand.

Gabriel leans back, legs falling open carelessly, hand inching towards his crotch but not yet touching – he was going to make this one last.

“Why don’t you find out?”

.o.

The blush creeps down his throat and over his collarbones, pinkening up his tits like an offering, and Gabriel wonders vaguely whether McCree will start drooling like a dog.

His thighs look massive as he kneels over his Strike Commander, the tense muscles making them look even juicier, and Gabriel can’t get enough from the sight of his hairy ass hovering a few inches above Morrison’s perfect, smooth belly.

For all that McCree seemed out of shape, he did possess a surprising amount of stamina: chin on his chest, watching himself move with almost machine like relentlessness, fucking carefully so his cock wouldn’t slip from the plush valley of Morrison’s chest.

Jesse’s belly is moving with the rocking motions of his hips; almost hypnotically as he fucks, his hands splayed on Morrison’s pectorals, thumbs pressing down against the thick shaft of his cock to hold it down.

Whenever he has pushed in the deepes, his foreskin rolls back, the wet, swollen head of his cock practically popping out – and Jack is straining for it, head up, mouth open, trying to get a lick in and only managing to smear his chin with sticky pre-cum.

“Look up at him,” Gabriel orders and Jesse groans when Morrison does just that: those painfully blue eyes rolling up, staring into McCree’s face as he tries and fails to suckle the fat tip into his mouth, making a spectacle of himself.

Jesse does help him, then – lets go of those plush tits to cup one large hand behind Morrison’s head and cradle it, keep him nice and up as he pushes those scant last few centimeters towards him, letting him close his lips around the leaking tip and lash his greedy tongue against the slit to taste how salty it was.

Morrison’s eyelids flutter, his cock an angry red, so hard it stays on its own, angled away from his clenching belly, but before he can close them, Gabriel tuts and he snaps them open, staring up even as they start to water.

“Did I tell you you could fuck his mouth?” Gabriel asks idly, knee bouncing, head tilting back against the headrest. Jesse whines like a dog but does shuffle obediently backwards, both men sounding close to tears when his cock leaves the warm, greedy suction of Morrison’s mouth with a lewd pop.

“Help him along, why don’t you, Jackie-boy?”

And God, do they look delicious like that: Morrison framing his pecs with his own hands, pushing them together to deepen the valley of his tits, let Jesse hump his dark, swollen cock in the crease and get it sticky and shiny with pre-cum.

McCree’s balls, big and hairy as the rest of him, drag against the delicate skin of Jack’s sternum. Gabriel wonders whether it’ll be red afterwards; raw from the rough pubes grinding into him again and again.

As he watches, Morrison shifts his hands, fingers splaying, taking the swollen peaks of his nipples between them just to add a bit more pressure on them. His mouth is bruised looking and wet, falling open when he grips the firm muscles and pinches his nipples in the process.

“You like fucking his tits, McCree?”

Jesse nods, eager and canine, his teeth bared in a way that makes Gabriel think he wants to chew on one of his cigars. It would suit him: pulling nervous puffs while fucking his big cock between Morrison’s tits. That same big cock that was too heavy to stand up on its own, drooping deliciously, foreskin silky and dark and mouthwatering…

“Jesse looks good on you, Morrison,” Gabriel rasps, hand squeezing his cock through his pants, hips curving up into it. “But I bet you’d love to reciprocate, wouldn’t you? He doesn’t have your gorgeous tits, but he has a nice fat ass. Would you like fucking his hairy cheeks? I could help you with it. Get up behind you. Guide your hips with mine.”

Jack is breathing like he has trouble getting air into his lungs. His cock flexes, a string of pre-cum dripping towards his abdomen, knees twitching restlessly, then pulling slowly up. He can’t keep his hips still, shimmying from side to side.

“Yeah, you’d love that,” Gabriel purrs. He is grinding against his palm, fucking lazily, wondering whether he should get up and get his fleshlight; but he doesn’t want to miss any of the action – not when Morrison looks like he’s about to pump out his load just from McCree fucking his sturdy, fat dick between his tits.

McCree’s cheeks are ruddy red beneath his shaggy beard, his dark eyes glistening; watery and feverish at the same time. He is chuffing like a train, slanting little submissive glances towards Gabriel; he already knows the drill about coming too soon and without permission, and he looks ready to beg already.

No stamina this one. Gabriel loves it.

He grins predatory and slides a little deeper into his chair, settling in for the long haul.

Could you write fic of dom lucio/sub Gabe meeting Reins sub Jack? Like Reinhardt figures it’s his turn to show off his lovely sub now I just read your other fic and loved it! 10/10

(This is the rein/jack anon again) would it be possible for you to write Jack as trans? You don’t have to but being a trans man myself I headcanon him as trans as well because he’s a character I relate to alot.

here you are. this is not ‘canon compliant’ with the rest of the series

Gabe was trying to hide his face against the outside of Lúcio’s knee without making it too obvious, and Reinhardt had to quietly smirk into his beard because of it. They were in Lúcio’s home – had consciously chosen to meet here in order to give Gabriel the home advantage and make him feel more at ease – yet the sub looked ill at ease and off kilter even kneeling next to Lúcio’s feet.

His head was half-turned away, dark eyes never leaving the people on the other side of the room. He looked flustered; like he was embarrassed to watch another pair play with each other, but was unwilling to actually stop staring. His big hand was curled around his own Master’s ankle, and Reinhardt could see it periodically clenching down when something especially interesting happened – like Jack sitting up a little straighter on command and pulling off his tight shirt.

Reinhardt had seen the grudging respect in Gabriel’s eyes when he’d introduced his companion – and now he could witness it again, staring at Jack’s abs as they get revealed. He is intent, dark eyes devouring the sub. Reinhardt wonders whether Jack can feel it – he is very sure he can’t see it, at least; the light is too dimmed for the sub’s weak eyes to make anything out that was outside their small radius.

When Jack pulls his shirt off his head, Reinhardt is watching Gabriel’s reaction.

He can see the minute backwards jerk of the sub’s head; how his shoulders tighten and eyebrows faintly furrow as he mulls over what he sees: Jack’s chest as broad and strong as Gabriel’s, with just a little bit more plushness to it. A little bit of softness that gives the pecs that extra amount of tantalizing bounce.

Reinhardt watches him lean a little forward, eyebrows furrowed. He looks curious and confused.

Reinhardt shifts his attention down to the man between his massive thighs and curls a large hand around Jack’s throat. He can feel the motion of his Adam’s apple against his palm as he first swallows, then sighs, eyes fluttering almost closed. He follows the pressure of Reinhardt’s hand easily and lets his head get tilted back until his cranium almost rests against his dominant’s crotch.

“Good boy,” he tells him. He takes care to pitch it loud enough for the other two to hear. “You like showing off, don’t you, my darling? Yes, I know. My pretty boy. Always so eager to get naked for others…”

There’s color starting to rise in Jack’s cheeks. He can feel the first tentative dregs of warmth against his fingers as the sub gets a little more into the action – lets himself get guided by Reinhardt’s voice and the restricting, safe confines of his thighs.

“Why don’t you show them the rest of you?”

Jack pants, the slit of his eyes looking bright and a little watery already. He is intimidated by the other submissive, Reinhardt can tell. Gabriel is a formidable sight – dark and foreboding. He doesn’t look homely or even anything approaching to friendly – not when he’s nervous like now, with another sub encroaching on his home, checking his dominant’s face with little hidden glances to make sure he isn’t unduly invested in Jack.

Well enough that Jack loved a little bit of fear with his plays; liked to feel helpless and exposed and as if he didn’t have control over what happened to him – what was made to him.

He kept his head back, even though it made it more difficult to get out of his pants, seemingly staring up at Reinhardt’s face.

.o.

Gabriel is squirming on his spot, watching the other sub fight to slide off his pants. He almost jerks away when Lúcio suddenly puts his hand against the nape of his neck, twisting and glancing up at his face for a moment to make sure everything was alright – it was – and then peeking back over at the other couple while Lúcio gently dug the blunt nail of his thumb against the base of his skull, then dragged it down towards the first knob of his vertebrae – and up again; a slow, seemingly thoughtless motion that made Gabriel hyperaware of his neck and the tingling at the base of his spine.

He is so invested in the feeling, mouth dropping open a little, head dipping forward, that it actually takes him by surprise when he realizes Jack is almost naked already – jeans down around his knees and in the process of getting kicked to the side.

Gabriel grunts softly, can’t hold the sound of confused surprise back when he sees the space between Jack’s thighs… and then his attention gets pulled away, Lúcio’s hand cupping beneath his jaw, tilting his head up and back not unlike the treatment the other submissive received from Reinhardt; and while Gabriel felt uneasy putting his vulnerable front on display like that, belly stretching long beneath his tight t-shirt, throat bobbing with a nervous swallow, he wouldn’t be outplayed by this other sub.

So he lets himself get dragged backwards, still hearing the other pair – how Reinhardt murmures praise, and accompanies his declaration of ‘And up you go’ with a soft grunt – and ignoring how his curiosity wants to make him look at what the others are doing in favor of earning himself a kiss from his dominant.

Warmth floods his chest and trickles down into his belly as Lúcio kisses him slow and lovely – only letting him sip at the tip of his tongue before he pulls back and smirks down at Gabriel’s flushed face.

“Oh, you’re easy today, are ya?” he whispers, fingers rubbing across Gabriel’s shorn scalp. “Look at you. You’re already starting to go down for me… What a good boy you are, Gabriel.”

Gabriel swears his chest is expanding at the praise, swelling and warm as he watches his dominant’s face and forgets for a second that there even are other people in the room with them. He can feel it himself; how he’s starting to go down fast and hard, and it is a little scary; enough so to make him whine and grimace, hand clenching around Lúcio’s ankle.

Lúcio coos at him, the hand beneath his jaw squeezing once firmly, then guides his head forward again with the other hand at the base of his skull, warm, secure, not giving Gabriel any room to balk as he’s getting made to watch the other pair.

Jack is sitting on Reinhardt’s lap, made to spread his legs on the thick thighs, the softness between his legs glistening and spreading around one of Reinhardt’s lazily petting fingers.

He stares, belly twisting nervously once more, some strange anxiety wanting to twist up into his chest until Lúcio leans down, lips close enough at his ear that he can feel his dominant’s goatee tickling his cheek.

“How about I do the same to you? Give you just the same treatment Jack is getting? Show them that you can be a sweet boy just as much as him…”

Gabriel whines, the need to be on his dominant’s lap suddenly so strong it makes breathing a little difficult. His eyes burn, fingers of one hand twisting into his sweatpants. God does he want to be on Lúcio’s lap; but looking at the other two, he isn’t sure this is a wise decision. Reinhardt is huge; can easily support the big sub on his thighs and still almost dwarf him.

Gabriel, on the other hand… he would look ridiculous on Lúcio’s knees. He wasn’t even sure whether Lúcio could-

“Stop worrying. You’re thinking too much, and I think I should be the one doing the thinking for us now. You’ll just be a sweet little sub and obey. Just as usual.” The hand cupping beneath Gabriel’s jaw moves, rubbing along his throat and coming to lay heavy and warm against Gabriel’s collar bones, mimicking a collar that Gabriel was too skittish to wear. The pressure feels good. Grounding. When Lúcio coaxes again: “Come on up, my good boy.” He follows without a hitch, crawling up onto Lúcio’s legs, his dominant’s lap warm and firm, no sign of Gabriel being too heavy for him.

“There you go. Look at you being so obedient. Following orders without a fuss. You don’t have to ask for a spanking to be able to snuggle on your dom’s lap, you know. We can do this whenever you want, Gabriel.”

His head was spinning, belly feeling hot and tight, limbs tingling. He was leaning forward, bracing himself against Lúcio’s knees and looked helplessly at the other pair; how Jack had curled his arms up around Reinhardt’s neck and was panting open mouthed and red faced as Reinhardt dragged his fingers through the mess between his thighs and then slipped farther back still.

As he watched, Reinhardt curled one hand beneath Jack’s knee, lifting it, making the sub’s abdomen slide forward, curling and showing off everything he had on offer – and how his dominant’s slickened fingertip was rounding the tender little opening of his ass. Jack whined, impressive muscles tensing all over, making Gabriel wonder how often he worked out to get a body like his.

(Making him wonder whether they could be friends outside of… this… outside of their dominants showing them off and playing with their bodies and making them submit to them sweetly and thoroughly until Gabriel would be happy to tell Lúcio left was right and up was down if only he would keep up making him feel good…)

“Oh… would you look at that,” Lúcio murmurs behind him, fingers playing with the hem of Gabriel’s tight shirt. “They’ve had a headstart. We need to follow suit, don’t you think? You gonna be my good boy and help me?”

Gabriel groaned, head falling back for a second and cock thickening eagerly before he started nodding, and helpfully raising his arms for his dominant to drag the shirt off of him…

.o.

Reinhardt feels almost drunk. Jack is so excited, he can smell him – and he wonders whether the other two can as well; whether the thick musk has actually filled the room just as much as he believed, that silky gash slick and hot working overtime as Reinhardt rounded the swollen nub at the top again and again, because he can’t get enough of the sight on the other side of the room.

Gabriel is naked and trembling, and drenched in sweat after the third time of getting made to almost come, muscles standing out sharply. He looks wild; like a mustang. Like he would claw at Lucio if he had to endure even one more faux orgasm; the almost release shivering through his body, his beautiful big cock so hard it almost stands on its own.

The tip is dark and generously wet from Lúcio playing with him, the clever dark eyes of the other dominant watching intently what Reinhardt does to his sub so he could mirror the movement: taking the fluid from the tip of Gabriel’s cock and swirling it round and round the sensitive glans until the sub is sobbing and angry and trying not to trash or slide off of his dominant’s lap, feet already hooked behind Lúcio’s ankles.

Jack seems to be just as much riled from Reinhardt playing with his body as simply listening to the other sub. He had twitched at the first low grunt Lúcio had had to almost rip from Gabriel until the sub started getting a bit more vocal, shyness eroding further with every almost orgasm; but now his head was up and alert, turned towards the sounds on the other side of the room, cheeks dark and eyes closed.

Reinhardt is sure he’d love nothing more than to be put onto the floor so he could crawl over, following his ears, mouth open and wet and ready for Gabriel’s cock… but he is just as sure that the other submissive wasn’t ready for that yet; would need to be coaxed and praised until he’d play with anybody but his dominant.

Jack was more used to the edging; oh, he had hated it at first – had even kicked at Reinhardt once, frustration pouring off of him in hot waves like a fever, belly clenching again and again with the phantom of imminent release. By now it was one of his favorite games. He liked making Reinhardt bear all of his weight, leaning back and riding out the sweet desperation.

He hooks his other hand beneath Jack’s arm, hand easily cupping the small tit, feeling just that bit of fat that Jack would never be able to get rid off without surgery, no matter how hard he trained – not that it was his goal at this point. He seemed content with where he was, and Reinhardt felt almost silly for how proud it made him.

He squeezes the firm pec, and Jack sighs – and just a moment later, there is an answering soft choke on the other side of the room as Lúcio mimicks the action. He looks smug, peeking over Gabriel’s shoulder; like the cat that got the cream.

“Oh you wanna play?” Reinhardt mumbles, low, not designed for Lúcio to hear as he curls his arm around Jack’s chest in preparation and to keep him secure as he rounds the painfully swollen nub one last time – gives it a little tap just to make Jack gurgle and have his hips twitch – then slips even lower, finger slick, rounding that tender opening he had touched earlier but ignored since then.

They know immediately when Lúcio takes up on it: Gabriel whines and jerks, needing an arm around his sturdy hips to keep him put. There is not much to be seen, the sub’s thighs not as desperately spread as Jack’s – which was a combination out of Reinhardt’s sheer size forcing them apart as well as the sub’s need to show himself; get his body offered on a silver platter for everybody to partake in, be it visual or by grabbing and sampling the goods. Gabriel, while being tolerant enough of the happenings, curiosity making him more loose and accepting of his open vulnerability, still seems a bit more shy – not as open to show off his gorgeous body yet, despite his dominant’s low crooning coaxing.

However, Lúcio’s hand between the strong thighs is telling enough; moving slow but with intent; spearing his sub on an innocent finger while Gabriel whines like he’s taking dick already, broad chest heaving and cock bouncing in front of him as it flexes.

None of the subs remain quiet after this. Jack howls like a dog as Reinhardt lovingly stuffs him, and Gabriel looks over with something akin to commiseration; like he can understand feels with the other sub getting made to take Reinhardt’s thick finger on nothing but the slick of his swollen, messy gash – and Reinhardt is not too proud to admit he likes the thought; is even going off on a small daydream of the subs comforting each other; exchanging sweet kisses as they are forced down on their dominant’s cocks…

“Good boy,” Reinhardt rasps, thumb swiping along Jack’s arm as he carefully, slowly works his finger deeper into that silky, clutching hole. Jack loves getting his ass played with; goes positively wild for it – but he isn’t used to getting stuffed on such little preparation, his throat bulging on a suppressed whine as he squirms and tries to get away as Reinhardt needs to keep him nice and fixed.

He can hear Lúcio crooning as well; low, sweet nothings as he works his finger, moving, angling until Gabriel shouts and a thick dribble of pre-cum slides down the side of his cock. His impressive thighs are shaking, tensing and untensing, knees shivering as they first try to close up entirely, then stay, uncertain, when Lúcio murmurs a soft denial… sway open, closed, then suddenly spread wide and lift, the sub trusting his whole weight to his dominant as he opens himself up for the slow, deep fingering and the soft burn of too little lubrication.

They whine in tandem, bodies held carefully still, letting their dominants play with them, fingering deep and intrusive and making their bodies pliant and hot around them.

“Can your boy come without hands?” Reinhardt asks breathless, laughter in his voice. It is bubbling in his throat, he can feel it tickling him, he feels delirious on his sub’s surrender, and when he glances over, Lúcio’s eyes look just as bright and a little crazy as he feels.

“He hasn’t done it yet,” he says, lips twitching into a grin, arm curling tighter around Gabriel’s waist. He almost looks like a kid hugging a big prize teddy. He doesn’t seem like he’ll be letting go of his submissive any time soon. “But he’ll try for me. He’s so primed and ready. Aren’t you?” He turns his head, lips pressing wet against the point of Gabriel’s jaw, mouthing his feverish questions against it. “Aren’t you? Primed for your orgasm? Ripe for it? Yeah… yeah you are… fuck, you’re so gorgeous. Perfect. You want to try for me, don’tcha? Gonna try and come without hands just for me? Like a good boy?”

Gabriel looks gone; his mouth hangs open, soft little breaths puffing from him as he squirms on Lúcio’s lap. He is nodding quick and mindless and Reinhardt wonders whether the boy even understood what was asked of him.

Jack doesn’t seem to fare any better in any case, teeth bared, jaw clenched – he looks almost angry as he fucks down on Reinhardt’s finger, body quaking, abs shivering with the strain…

When they come, they don’t make make a secret out of it. Reinhardt wonders whether the neighbors can hear them whining and shuddering through it, the tendons in their necks standing out harshly as their well earned orgasms take them.

Lúcio is crooning again, arm around Gabriel as the sub looks almost scared of the intensity of his release, coming like this for the first time, big hands scrabbling at his dominant and clutching at his arms, hips jerking, twitching, fucking into nothing as thick ropes of cum splash onto the floor before them – all the while Reinhardt holds Jack through his own orgasm, hand still between his jerking thighs, feeling the tight squeeze of his muscles milking him as the submissive seems to burn up on his lap.

They are kitten soft afterwards; even Gabriel moving slow and easy, limbs shaking as he lets Lúcio coax him onto the bed, the sweat cooling quickly and making him shiver until his dominant curls him up into a blanket.

He doesn’t so much as blink when Reinhardt leads Jack to lie next to him, the subs blinking at each other slow, sleepy, sated – and seemingly so confused, like they couldn’t quite wrap their heads around what happened; how they could be lying still in a bed when their bodies were buzzing and shivering and moving, hopped on euphoria. They look cute, next to each other; each in their little blanket burrito, wrapped tight enough to feel anchored and secure after the intense feeling of release after getting edged for the better part of an hour.

“They need to play with each other,” Reinhardt says slowly, big hand cupping the back of Jack’s head while his eyes stray to Gabriel’s face, then back to his submissive. “I need to see it.”

Lúcio nods solemnly, rubbing his submissive’s cheek and scratching his beard lovingly.

D.Va slowly drags her palm across the feverishly hot head of 76′s erection, smirking when he digs in his heels, huffing like he’s ran a mile.

He’s red-faced and sweating, pupils hectic little pinpricks in his pale eyes, hair sticking up everywhere even though he hasn’t taken his hands off of the edge of the sofa since she started torturing him.

He looks crazy and she thinks that’s the cutest look on him yet.

She slowly drags her soft palm across the swollen tip, catching whatever pre-cum dribbles out; the other one is curled close to the base of his cock, holding it nice and steady for her to play with. He is almost worryingly hot to the touch, thick veins bulging at the sides.

“You’re so excited,” she tells him with a giggle in her voice. She takes away her hand and smiles at the tacky, sticky strands that connect her palm with his cock before they snap and she wipes it negligently against the hard ridges of his abs.

“I should let you come more often; you look really cute like this.” She leans forward, and sees his mouth drop open in mindless anticipation as her little tongue snakes, almost touching, almost licking – his cock flexing in the tight grip of her strong, thin fingers, pulsing, eager – before she draws quickly away once more with a chuckle and a loving, pat to the blunt tip.

He groans. His balls look swollen, drawn up tight to his body and moving every now and then – little flexes towards his cock as if he was on the cusp of coming, like he needed just a little bit more to shoot – jaw going tight and eyebrows drawing up…

She liked to pull away completely in these moments, listen to the pained, wheezing whine in the back of his throat and watch his pale eyes get watery with tears.

“I promised you, you’d get to come, right?” she asks him calmly, face serious. His lips tremble. He looks like he doesn’t know whether he should answer – whether there is a ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ answer. He lives in constant fear of getting it snatched away in the last second and it makes her so hot she can feel her sticky fluids sliding out of her pulsing cunt, getting her panties messy with it.

He nods after all, fingers dug in deep into the edge of the couch. She nods, hand slowly stroking up, then down his cock.

“Yeah. And I keep my promises, right?”

She leans forward again, mouth wet with candy pink lipgloss, tongue out – warm breath ghosting across the thick tip of his gorgeous, big cock.

She can hear him wheeze above her, chuffing like an engine, heels digging into the floor – and uses that moment to pinch his thigh dangerously close to his balls, fingernails sharp and mean.

He cries out in alarm and pain above her, body going rigid, cock jerking in her grasp once before she quickly lets go all together, watching with fascination as it flexes and bobs awkwardly in the air, thick globs of cum dribbling out and sliding along the shaft while he tries to slide away from the cruel pinch of her fingers.

Afterwards, she is carding those same sharp tipped nails gently through his short hair while he lies with his head on her small tits and soaks her top with his tears.

“I liked that,” she tells him, fingers dragging rhythmically up and down the nape of his neck. “I want to do that more often. I think I can do better than that. Oh man, that was awesome.”

I love your DVa76 stuff, so how about something with them. Maybe she has him innocently playing video games with her but she’s more focused on distracting him from playing properly. He had no idea what she ACTUALLY had in store for him…

Anonymous said: “

cyber, the world has to know: will 76 ever get to fuck dva”

“Am I too heavy?”

The Soldier only grunts in the negative as D.Va gets comfortable on his lap. He’s almost docile these days. Following every tug of her little fingers without complaint, letting her torture him sweetly until there were tears in his eyes.

One could almost think he wasn’t interested anymore – but she knew better: especially now with her ass planted on his lap she could feel his cock, warm and large and needy, pressing up at her from below, separated by layers of fabric.

“Alright then. Let’s get started.”

He has his big arms around her to grip the controller, and she snuggles back against his chest to let him smell her hair. She could hear him deeply inhale – could feel the surge of his cock against her, tapping insistently against her ass as if politely asking for attention.

She smirked, eyes heavy lidded and on the screen of their game. She experimentally moves, hips shimmying from side to side, and listens to his soft hiss. He’s not complaining, though; even when she starts to bounce with intent. He whines, then, high and pained, his large biceps tensing and hands trembling on the controller but he lets her play like a well-trained dog, a slave to her needs.

When she reaches between her legs and into the slit of his shorts, everything is warm and damp, his cock springing into her palm eagerly. It’s large and so hot to the touch; the veins prominent and bulky against her small, questing fingers.

She has to look down to carefully pull him out of the fabric and let him in the air, and when she glances back up, he is driving his car into a wall even though he is making no sound – is, in fact, sitting still as a statue beneath her, seemingly afraid to even make a peep when she has her cruel little fingers on his dick.

“Don’t stop driving,” she tells him and he jerks to action, nearly fumbling the controller out of his large hands. Sometimes she thinks she should let him finger her. His hands are so large; they’d cup her cunt perfectly, keep her folds warm against one palm. Those long, thick fingers sliding slowly into her.

Maybe she should. It would be fun to watch him desperately jerk it while sucking her juices from his digits.

Right now she lets his cock up between her thighs, snug against her covered cunt.

“Look how close you are,” she whispers, “That’s what you always wanted, isn’t it? Touch your cock to my poor little pussy? Look how large it looks next to me. You’d destroy me.”

She can feel his rough, stubbled cheek against her temple as he obediently tilts his head to stare, his cock dark and almost dangerous looking next to her sky blue panties, so thin and tight he could see the outline of her plump folds.

He shakes underneath her, a sad, fat pearl of pre-cum bubbling up at the tip and sliding down the sides of his cock.

“Awww…it’s crying. Poor thing,” she coos and giggles.