Genyatta for my bae

@robotfvckers asked be for Alpha!Genji getting edged by Omega!Zenyatta and I could never refuse her Q.Q

When Genji had entered the club, he’d been surrounded by a gaggle of Omegas, crowding tightly around him and making him pleasantly dizzy with their sweet, perfume-like pheromones.

When he left a few hours later, he was only accompanied by one Omega that he’s met at the club itself: an intriguing slim young man with a plump little mouth and beautiful, dark eyes.

There’s something about the way he smiles that makes Genji’s heart pump faster – a gentle upturn of the corners of his mouth; gentle, calm. Docile. Watching Genji with patience and an irrefutable air of superiority that is as amusing as it is curious.

“Where do you want to take this, beautiful?” he’d purred, finger curled beneath the Omega’s smooth chin. Not even the shadow of a beard. The Omega hadn’t pulled away; let himself get gently caged against a wall, his slim chest rising and falling slow and even against Genji.

“My place.”

Genji has to admit – if only to himself – that the decision had surprised and maybe a bit unnerved him. This wasn’t how things usually went, but he’s a good sport about it. Some Omegas were just skittish like that. Wanted familiar surroundings when they got mounted and deep dicked by a prime Alpha specimen like him.

The Omega’s living arrangements are simple and small, but they smell like he’s been rubbing his pretty body all over the place, scenting it until Genji’s cock sits up at attention just by walking into the space.

He can’t see much – it is pretty dark – but that’s not of importance when he can push the young man against a wall and grind at his ass; small and round and as plump as his lips.

The Omega arches mildly. Pushes into the contact. And when Genji’s hand slips beneath his sensible little shirt, big hand cupping the smooth, soft plane of his lower abdomen, he suddenly murmurs: “What’s your name, stranger?”

Genji pauses with his chin on the Omega’s shoulder, warm breath puffing against his ear. His cock is hard; the head becoming wet as it pushes out from beneath the elastic of his underwear, and this time when he grinds forward, there is a long, gratuitous glide of his cock along the cleft of the Omega’s ass.

He shuffles his feet farther apart, the edge of his hand digging into the Omega’s skin just above his crotch, urging him to slide his ass bag farther; to lower his upper body more. To give him more play to fuck against his ass.

The Omega grunts softly – a sound that makes his cock even wetter at the tip – but does not follow along with the gentle urging.

“Your name,” he says a bit breathily, and Genji starts chewing at the collar of the Omega’s shirt because that’s the only option to testing them out on that gorgeous, brown neck.

“Genji…” he murmurs, and the Omega stretches at that, then turns around – taking his pretty little ass away from Genji who frowns, big hands falling on his hips to pull him at least closer for a kiss.

The Omega’s hand slips up, fingers pressing against Genji’s mouth to keep their lips apart, then says serenely: “My name is Zenyatta.”

He looks expectantly at Genji, and Genji stares back dumbfounded, cock so very hard for this peculiar Omega. Zenyatta.

“O… okay,” he finally gets out, and Zenyatta smiles his enigmatic little smile, then reaches down unexpectedly and cups Genji through his pants. His long fingers curl down and around his balls, the heel of his hand pressing gentle but firm against that tender place where Genji’s knot would swell.

He grunts, pushes into the touch, tears springing to his eyes when that makes the pressure against his burgeoning knot a bit too sharp for comfort.

“I would like to play with you, Genji,” Zenyatta tells him. His voice is hypnotic; deeper than Genji would have assumed for such a slim fellow, but as smooth as everything else on the Omega. On Zenyatta.

His name is Zenyatta.

“Yeah… Hell yeah,” he murmurs against the fingers still pressed to his mouth and quickly ducks away from them to press little coaxing kisses against Zenyatta’s plush lips. Zenyatta hums and lets him, then uses the just-this-side-of-kind pressure against his knot to push him a bit farther away again.

“Would you allow me to tie you? I think that could be… very pleasurable for the both of us.”

Genji blinks at him, staring at those dark eyes; their slant making Zenyatta look like just about the sweetest Omega Genji has ever met – then the request really registers and a slow grin spreads on his face, fingers curling beneath Zenyatta’s chin, gently scratching the silky skin there.

“Oh babe,” he purrs deep in is chest; an Alpha trying to soothe a skittish Omega. “You’re a bit shy, hm? Don’t worry. I wouldn’t harm a single hair on your body.”

Zenyatta, being bald, lifts his eyebrows and keeps smiling at him – though this time it looks decidedly more amused by Genji.

“Is that so?”

He guides Genji backwards until the Alpha can feel something hit the back of his knees. He sits on the chair and has to look up at the Omega who drags gentle fingers across his cheek, then through his thick hair, grabbing at it.

“Would you like to play?”

Genji’s cock pulses, the tip wetting against his quivering, tight stomach.

“Everything for you, precious. Just make yourself comfortable.”

“MMhh I will.”

.o.

Zenyatta’s ropes are soft but unforgiving, and no matter how much Genji rips on them, muscles bulging and weight thrown around in the throes of passion, they do not let him escape any of Zenyatta’s ministrations.

The Omega is taking his time working him up, and he feels like sooner or later the tears of overstimulation pricking at the corners of his eyes will fall.

His chest is heaving, burning like he’s run too much, and all he can do is stare down at the devious little Omega kneeling between his spread thighs and playing with his cock.

Zenyatta is glancing up at him while he drags his slick little tongue along the painfully swollen knot he’s coaxed out of Genji some half an hour ago. He still can’t fucking believe it happened in the first place.

He’s never knotted outside of a toy or a warm, squirmy Omega, and feeling it out in the open is alien and a bit scary.

He’s also never knotted without coming a few seconds later, but Zenyatta’s gentle, cruel hands have taken care of that as well.

One hand is constantly curled around his balls; for now gently cradling the sac, thumb idly stroking across the warm, silky skin, but ready to become mean if his orgasm is fast approaching and he can’t hold himself back.

Zenyatta’s pupils are blown wide. He looks drunk on the Alpha’s scent – the only concession to Genji’s pride as he proceeded to nuzzle through the thick, groomed pubes the second he’s gotten Genji’s pants down.

As Genji watches, his other hand slides over. Curls around his knot gently – and Genji gasps in a mighty, wet gulp of air.

“N-No…” he murmurs, knowing full well what is going to come (not him) but still lifting his hips as much into the touch as the ropes allow.

Zenyatta leans his head against one thick, muscular thigh, trembling like a skittish colt’s.

“Do you want me to untie you?” he asks earnestly with that deep, gentle voice, and Genji contorts his face, chest so very tight as everything in him is so very confused and turned on.

He wants to push Zenyatta down; mount him like he’s done with countless other Omegas. It is weird to be at his mercy. A bit scary.

But also very hot.

“No…” he admits after a beat of silence and Zenyatta gives him another of those enigmatic little smiles, his cheeks dark with a flush. Not unaffected. Not by a long shot. Genji can smell his desperate arousal, floral and spicy, but he can’t do a thing about it.

Zenyatta’s hand closes around his knot. It is wet with lubricant, warm and soft, and Genji whines long and drawn out, head falling back into his neck, sweat springing up along his hairline and under his arms.

God, but it feels like a warm little Omega cunt like this. He whimpers, hips fucking up in forceful half-thrusts, the rest of his cock so very cool compared to the tight grip on his knot – and then every touch suddenly leaves him: not only the warm, consistent pressure against his knot, but also the clever fingers on his balls, leaving him to desperately, painfully scramble back from the edge of orgasm.

He whines, chest pumping, heart thumping quick enough that he thinks he might be on the verge of a heart attack.

His cock is so sensitive.

Even the air hurts.

“You’re doing well” Zenyatta’s gentle voice floats to him from somewhere. “You’re learning quickly.”

Genji stares numbly at the ceiling, still trying to come to terms that he made himself come back from orgasm, when he hears the gentle scratch of a zipper. Seconds later, the warm scent of Zenyatta’s arousal curls around his nose and makes his mouth water on command.

His cock jerks so hard it hurts, and for a breathless second he thinks he might come just from the thick scent of slick. Thick enough that he can taste it in the back of his mouth.

And then Zenyatta is in his lap, not even goddamn naked, just with his pants pulled down far enough to give Genji a good look at his long, slim cock as he grinds his ass against the Alpha’s cock, getting his sticky slick everywhere.

Drenching Genji’s poor dick in it.

“God, yes,” Genji gasps, head falling back. “Finally. Fuck. Took you long enough. C’mon baby, let me feel that sweet little snatch of yours…”

Zenyatta leans forward, plump little mouth at Genji’s throat. He is grinning – grinning, the little minx, and testing his white little teeth against the Alpha’s skin, making his blood boil as he lowers himself. Just a bit. Just enough to have the tip of Genji’s dick warm and secure in the silky buttery-soft space he’s been withholding the whole time.

They groan in unison and Genji feels like he’s about to pop an artery when Zenyatta sighs with a dreamy sort of serenity: “You feel very good.”

“The rest of me would feel even better, baby,” he says through grit teeth, belly fluttering as he tries to somehow breathe through the immense pleasure when Zenyatta bears down on the pulsing tip of his poor dick and hums.

“I like it just like this, though. You won’t get me messy, will you?”

Zenyatta leans up, then, his dark eyes on Genji’s sweat drenched face. Genji is sure he must look terribly unappealing right now, but the Omega does not seem to mind. All he does is stroke reverent slim hands along Genji’s slick, hard chest, thumbs at his nipples; dragging across them until Genji arches helplessly, a whine stuck in his throat.

Zenyatta follows the movement, not letting the Alpha fuck deeper into him – and when Genji gurgles something incoherent, he pulls off entirely and rubs his smooth cheek against Genji’s.

“Calm, now. Calm.”

Genji sobs openly as he claws his way back from the brink of orgasm again. He is sure his cock must be a violent shade of dark red by now. His balls feel big as fucking grapefruits and painfully tender.

Zenyatta is calm and blessedly cool on him, and Genji wishes he’d at the very least gotten naked so he could ogle him some.

The Omega trills gently at him, placating him somewhat as he lowers himself again and lets the pulsing, dribbling tip of his cock slip back into that warm, soft space.

“If you can manage to hold off until I give you the permission,” he whispers, mouth directly against Genji’s ear, “I’ll let you pump everything over my crotch.”

Genji clenches his eyes shut, a single pathetic tear rolling down into he hair at his temple as he lets his head fall back, arms fruitlessly struggling against the ropes – then he slumps, his agitation making place for a weird sort of calm as he rides the antsy waves of orgasm looming just there.

He nods, and sniffles, and Zenyatta’s cool, calm hands flutter along his face and shoulders and torso; rubbing and petting and gentling him down.

“Wonderful. You are such a good student.”

For the possible ficlet prompts- Indulging in the whole Reinhardt/Reaper edging idea. (never enough content for my favorite knight)

They both were staring down between their bodies, watching how the dark, wet tip of Reaper’s cock peeked out of Reinhardt’s slick fist before disappearing again.

Gabriel’s mouth hung open, breath soft and panting, eyes huge as he watched with morbid curiosity as the big, slick fist move on his dick; let the tip emerge to the cold air of the room, fleshy foreskin pulled back for the sensitive glans to be on full display.

Every now and then, shimmery drops of pre-cum shivered on the slit. Reinhardt hummed at the sight, thumb sliding up and above, swiping the moisture away. Gabriel could just watch helplessly, forearms on the old man’s shoulders.

Sitting on his broad lap like this was making the experience even worse; Reinhardt felt like a solid, living furnace, close and unrelenting, one tree trunk arm slung around Reaper’s hips to keep him as close as possible.

There was no way past him. He was surrounding him fully, large and impenetrable, and unfailingly gentle as he drove Gabriel to insanity.

“Let me come,” he grit out, hips rocking up into the fist, balls feeling painfully sensitive and swollen.

“Later,” Reinhardt promised, good eye carefully watching Gabriel’s face. As he stares, he starts playing with his foreskin – tugging on it, pushing it back over the tip, rubbing it through the skin with insistent, small circles of his thumb.

Gabriel’s eyes widened, breath pushing from him in a forceful grunt. His hips lift, in a helpless buck, arms sliding to grip Reinhardt’s shoulders.

“Fuck. Fuck!” he growled, voice high and a little watery, balls pulsing and ripe. He can’t help but reach down and hold them; cup them towards his body as if that would help the lust bubbling through his belly and crawling up towards his chest. His hips felt dangerously lose and hot – so eager to finally start hunching into Reinhardt’s slick fist and fuck it like a pretty cunt.

“Hands back on my shoulders, Schätzchen,” Reinhardt reminded him, hand leaving his cock suddenly and without warning; leaving it to bob free and sad in the cool air. It looked painfully swollen just as his balls, long and thick, drooping under its own weight to nudge beneath Reinhardt’s belly button and drool liberally into the grey, thick tangle of hair growing there.

“No… fuck.. fuck you,” he whined, hand clenching tight around his balls, breath coming in shuddering, pre-sob gasps. His eyes were stinging, throat pulled tight. He knew he’d be able to come if he were to fuck into Reinhardt’s bush. He didn’t need a lot at this point. The warm, humid tangle of hair would be enough. Just rut against him and cream his pubes; snuggle his cock up to the large dick resting heavy against one huge thigh.

Fuck, he was so close.

“Gabriel…”

He did sob, then; tears of frustration in his eyes, nose starting to run as he bit his lips and furiously kept his tears at bay as he finally took his hand off his balls and placed it back onto Reinhardt’s shoulder.

“Very good. I think a few more, and then we’ll go to bed.”

Gabriel clenched his eyes shut, breath shuddering out of him, belly feeling tight and hot. He knew he had lost the privilege to come for tonight.

I just saw that post you made about edging Zenyatta. Could you imagine his sweet voice just letting out the prettiest sounds and he’s too shy to ask for more but whoever is edging him (Genji? Hanzo?McCree?) is just whispering sweetly to him while working him up again.

little thing beneath :O thanks to @bonebo for the idea of putting in Genji and Lúcio :O *eyes it sceptically* not sure I’m too happy with it but it’s not too bad for the first time Zenyatta imho

“G-g-g-g-g-geeeeennnn…”

Zenyatta’s voice warbled, static taking the rest of the plea. One of the orbs floating around them in a tranquil circle jerked and dropped to the ground.

Genji hummed low and soothing, readjusting his grip around his Master’s chest to keep him nice and contained – not that Zenyatta was going to go anywhere. He was docile even in his desperation – even when Genji and Lúcio had been playing with his circuitry for two hours now, testing out what his processors could handle.

He tilted his head, lying his cheek against the smooth, warm metal of Zenyatta’s cranium. “Are you watching Lúcio like we told you to?”

“I am.”

Genji smirked and pressed a kiss to the shining chrome. “Of course you are. Look at how sweet he’s being for you.”

They both glanced down at the young man lying between Zenyatta’s legs, rubbing the softness of his cheek along the slender, segmented cock of the omnic.

As they watched, he licked the tips of his fingers and applied them to the sleek, dark head, rubbing along the several ridges fanning down the glans like gills – designed for the express purpose of satisfying humans.

A soft, high note shivered through the air: Zenyatta whimpering as his core temperature started rising again, several delicate parts of machinery whirring into life to combat the heat.

“What if he didn’t pull back this time?” Genji inquired, palms sliding across the chassis of Zenyatta’s chest, fingers dipping beneath the plating to stroke along thin wires and nudge against one of the nodes hidden there.

Zenyatta arched into the sensation, the orbs rounding them faster.

“Would you come without permission?”

“N….” Zenyatta’s golden jaw jerked to the side in denial as his voicebox refused to work beyond a garble of almost bird-like chirping.

Lúcio utilized that exact moment to press a wet, tonguing kiss against the smooth glass dome covering another of the many sensitive nodes nestled just beneath the glans; mouth suckling and gentle as he laved his tongue across the pulsing teal light.

Zenyatta’s voice fizzled out into an electric hum, pistons hissing as he jerked back against his pupil. The orbs levitating around them started pulsing blue; fast and with a certain kind of urgency until Lúcio had to pull back again, eyes huge as he peeked up at them, mouth wet and open – and a string of saliva connecting him to the protecting glass.

“Puh-llll….eassee,” Zenyatta wailed when he finally managed to wrangle his voicebox back under control, his vocals shifting wildly in tone, slim hips lifting hopefully towards Lúcio’s waiting, wet mouth.

Genji kissed him again, noting how the omnic turned into the feeling like a flower towards the sun: those hidden little sensors letting him experience so much that was going on around him.

“I think Lúcio wants to play a little more. He hasn’t yet gotten all the vocals he wants… do you?”

Lúcio grins and leans forward, blowing cool air against the spit he left behind, making Zenyatta sing for them from the sudden temperature drop.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Very well.” Genji reaches down and hooks arms beneath Zenyatta’s knees to urge him into lifting them and fold his glittering, metallic body – showing off more of his secrets. “Always so helpful. Such a good boy.”

He strains before her – a mountain range moving and heaving; straining against nothing but his own desire to please her.

“Oh God,” he groans, abs clenching and hips jerking. He chokes when the motion drags her fingers against his prostate, and she eases off; watches his throat bulge beneath the thick growth of his beard.

“You look gorgeous,” Ana promises him, neatly kneeling in midst the jerking sprawl of his legs, fingers sliding out of the warm, little slit of his hole to reapply more lube. She leans down, silver hair sliding across her naked shoulders, and breathes warm across the wet tip of his cock.

Reinhardt jerks violent enough to rattle the whole bed. His good eye is wide open in panic as he digs his heels into the mattress and twitches his hips up involuntarily – big cock slapping meaty and wet against his belly when Ana smoothly leans out of the way.

“Please! Please, I… Bitte. Bitte lass mich-” He tends to lapse back into German when he’s agitated and she can’t help but find it endearing.

She hums, eye only half open, watching his desperation in lazy contentment. His deep, booming voice has become reedy with his anguish but not less appealing. When she sits down between her ankles, she can feel it vibrate through the bed and against her very core, tickling her wet folds and teasing her own desire.

She waits until he has stopped spasming, then reaches forward and drags the tip of one finger against the sensitive head and along the swollen, feverishly hot ridge. She watches more clear liquid ooze out.

“No,” she purrs simply – voice not unkind; yet Reinhardt sobs, body shaking and balls moving beneath her carefully watching gaze. “You can hold on longer for me. Age hasn’t helped your patience much, has it? But I can assist you. My pretty treat.”

She watches a string of sticky pre-cum stretch between her finger and his cock, and rubs the wetness into Reinhardt’s hipbone. When she reaches to the side, her small, high breasts rubbing against his thigh, he starts whimpering, hips moving and broad chest heaving. When she leans back up and starts attaching the toy to her harness, he suddenly moves in primal, animal fear; the big behemoth of a man pulling up his knees and putting them together; shielding his weeping cock and sweet little peach of a hole from her surprised gaze.

“You’re a stubborn one today, aren’t you?” Ana muses. She is not overly concerned – quite the contrary. The sight of Reinhardt shivering and vulnerable before her is like an aphrodisiac. She can’t help but touch herself; pull on the tight buds of her nipples and slide fingers through the slickness of her slit.

He isn’t answering, but she can see the flush of embarrassment on his face. He looks chagrined like a little boy. Ana presses a kiss against his hairy chin and laughs at him. Reinhardt can’t help but grin a little as well.

“Did you think you would come without permission?” she wants to know, small, strong hands on his ankles, thumbs rubbing against the tops of his feet. He squirms; then nods.

“Ahhh but you needn’t be afraid. I know you wouldn’t have disappointed me. You give yourself too little credit. I’ll show you, my sweet little treat. C’mon. Open up, now.”

She tugs on his ankles and he lets himself get arranged; pliant as a kitten as he watches her with simple, open adoration. Ana rubs her hands along his thighs, feeling the stone hard muscle and coarse hair beneath her fingertips.

She had never lacked confidence, but slowly sliding her toy into the warm clench of his body, seeing the needy greed as his eye takes in the sway and bounce of her tits, Ana can’t help but feel flattered.

Frankfurt didn’t have an official Overwatch base, which suited Reinhardt just fine if he was being honest. It meant he could still spent some time at home and especially on his rooftop garden, having a nice, solitary barbecue like he did now.

“What are you wearing.”

It sounds taken aback and disgusted. A low, grating voice that Reinhardt was quite familiar with. He has to bodily turn around to look at Gabriel since of course he put himself on Reinhardt’s left side.

He beams when he sees their on-and-off compatriot. He looks out of place in his drab leathery garb in midst Reinhardt’s flowers, yet he definitely is no unwelcome sight.

“Your timing is perfect. I was just about to start on dinner.”

Gabriel’s mask is firmly in place, and he doesn’t answer to the invitation. He simply keeps staring at Reinhardt’s flowery apron. He holds himself carefully stiff. He looks like he doesn’t want to even breathe too deep.

Reinhardt’s hearty grin dims a little, good eye taking in Gabriel’s posture; how one clawed finger is tapping against his thigh in restlessness.

“Do you need help, my friend?” Reinhardt asks, booming voice pitched lower into a rumble. Reaper’s nod is jerky but instantaneous.

A handful of seconds pass by before he grates out: “Please.”

Reinhardt’s eyes crinkle at the corners when his grin resumes full force.

“How could I say no to such a polite request from such a lovely little treat such as yourself.” Reaper flinches barely noticeable, then very carefully rolls his shoulders and relaxes a little. Reinhardt offers him one huge paw-like hand. “Come. I have something special in mind for you.”

.o.

Gabriel digs his heels into the mattress and arches up with a strained groan shivering out of his throat. He has put his whole weight onto his shoulders, pressing back into Reinhardt’s massive chest.

“That’s it. Wundervoll. You’re doing great,” Reinhardt coos and tightens the hold he has around Reaper’s chest, pulling him back up a little for better access. His free hand is coated in lube, big thumb slowly dragging round and round the hot, swollen tip of Gabriel’s cock. It feels feverish to the touch. Overripe. Desperate.

“Let me come, old man,” Reaper spits out. He is still wearing his mask even though the rest of him is naked. He’s all laid out for Reinhardt’s pleasure, muscles shivering beneath tight skin. “Let me come!” he roars, hips snapping up into Reinhardt’s grip.

Reinhardt loosens the tunnel of his big hand; just lets Reaper’s feverish cock rest against his fingers. “You’re doing wonderful. You feel so good in my arms, Schätzchen. You can take more for me. You can take a lot more.”

Reaper’s hands are closing and opening spasmodically – his chest beneath Reinhardt’s supporting – restricting – arm is heaving. He makes a noise that sounds like words but Reinhardt can’t quite make it out. He tilts his head and rubs his beard gently against Reaper’s temple; jostling the mask and making Gabriel jerk his head away with a little snarl.

“What were you saying?”

Gabriel is quiet other than his heavy breathing. The big muscles in his thighs are clenching and unclenching in time with his abdominal muscles. His cock oozes out a little more pre-cum and Reinhardt can feel the strong, fast heartbeat in the thick vein lying against his palm.

“I don’t think I can,” Reaper rasps finally. He sounds… young.

Reinhardt hums and pulls the arm around his chest back so he can cup one of his pecs, big fingers rubbing lovingly across his nipples until his body is tensing once more, heels digging in and toes curling as he gets ready to come; ready to shoot and unload his heavy, filled balls.

When he starts to whimper, Reinhardt stops again; seizes every movement and presses a kiss to the top of Gabriel’s head when he spits curses and slams a fist onto the mattress.

“You can,” Reinhardt promises. He lets go of Gabriel’s dick and rubs the slick hand across a sweaty belly and over wide hips – as much meant to soothe as to rile him up. Gabriel was so sensitive to casual kindness.

He is whining now – honest to goodness whining; body straining and hips tilting up in little thrusts, trying to fuck and get the friction he so dearly wants.

“Gorgeous. You’re breathtaking,” Reinhardt rumbles, one large fingertip starting to press and rub just beneath the flared tip, then sliding down and across the bumps of the ladder piercing down the bulky shaft.

“Oh fuck,” Reaper sobs, hips jerking and cock slapping against his clenching abdomen. “Let me come. Let me come damn you…”

“No.”

Gabriel digs his heels in again and presses back against the mountain holding him up. This time it is decidedly less out of needy desperation and more petulant anger.

When Reinhardt closes his big, warm hand around him again and starts to easily jerk him off, Reaper nearly jumps out of his skin. The sound the slick hand makes along his cock is filthy and wet. It sounds like he is fucking a warm, welcoming hole and that makes it that much worse. His balls are throbbing and painful. His belly is burning. He wants to come as much as he doesn’t want to come.

He is caught in a stalemate that threatens to split his head, and Reinhardt is not keeping his fucking mouth shut; is, in fact, commenting the whole time with idiotic, sincere compliments.

“Feel so good in my arms. Pretty little boy. You’re not going to come without permission, are you? You’re going to wait like a good boy. Let me play with your tasty body until I’ve had my fill. Maybe I should fuck you? Get that sweet little cunt on my cock and fill you up?”

Gabriel’s mind short circuits at the words. He feels hands switching after a last loving squeeze to his pec – the slick hand letting go in favor of the rough one so slippery fingers can nudge his ripe balls to the side and get at his hole; push and pet until it opens up to one broad fingertip that brings tears to his eyes as the urgency ratchets up tenfold.

“Let me come,” he sobs, hips jerking – trying to fuck the dry hand without permission and only getting the wide palm that patiently presses his cock against his own belly and holds it there without any chance of friction. “Letmecomeletmecomeletmecome,” he howls, muscles shivery and no longer his own. “Please!”

The intrusion of the big finger halts. He just stays and keeps still just like the rest of the behemoth behind him.

“Breathe, Schätzchen,” Reinhardt advises good naturedly and Gabriel follows suit with a huge, rasping gulp of air that burns all the way down his lungs. He’s calming down again. Again. He doesn’t know how often Reinhardt has guided him to the very edge of orgasm just to let him simmer down again; balls relaxing from their desperate clench and body stopping to practically vibrate out of the skin.

“Not yet,” Reinhardt finally says gently, big thumb swiping across Gabriel’s drooling tip once, making him hiccup out a moan.

“I think you can give me two or three more times. You’re a good boy, Gabriel.”

Gabriel is thankful for his mask that shields his hot, embarrassed tears.