3rd Ko-Fi Fic Prompt!

Heed tags.

I was asked to write gassy Gabriel and supportive Jesse.

I hope it is enough farting action; I’m v sorry if not *lies down face first on ground*

:’ )))))))

Jesse is lucky that he’s been out in the field when the spoiled food was served in the cafeteria and subsequently took most of the Blackwatch agents down for the better of two days.

He receives the message with a disbelieving squawk of amusement, staring at his tablet almost in wonder. Who would have thought that a bit of spoiled grub would take Blackwatch down?

After all, he’s experienced first hand how hard-as-nails those guys and gals are; his first two years had been no fun at all – including his desperate puppy crush on Gabriel that’s been mostly unrequited or belittled until he’s finally put on some meaty muscles and rough facial hair – and the notion of most of them being out for the count because of some bad food is surreal, but… well. Not everyone has an iron stomach like him.

Though his has been trained more out of necessity than anything else.

He stares at the data pad, long legs stretched out in front of him, knocking shoulders with the sleeping agents to his left and right as the truck they come back in rattles across the road.

Three in the infirmary with food poisoning; twelve on a sick leave with upset tummies. Upset tummies. Jesse’s mouth is hanging open in a wide, disbelieving smile, fighting the urge to be upset because he’s not been there to witness it. Blackwatch agents getting send home into their beds like toddlers from daycare.

What. A. Hoot.

He can’t wait to get all the juicy details from Gabe.

.o.

“Hey there,” Jesse drawls as the door to Gabriel’s private quarters starts to slide open, elbow braced against the wall next to the door, everything about his posture casual and relaxed in a way he knows Gabriel hates – at least in the open where anybody could see.

His flirty grin slides off, however, when he sees Gabriel’s face: ashen and clammy with sweat. The commander is dressed in an undershirt and lose sleep shorts, and while Jesse in general appreciates the view, the way Gabriel is hunched over in exhaustion – or pain – sours the picture somewhat.

“No way,” he breathes, watching as Gabriel’s face goes darker, his full lips thinning into a strict frown.

“Go away. I’m on sick leave,” the commander croaks, but when he turns away and makes his way back to his messy bed, he does not close the door again. Jesse takes him up on the offer and slips inside, looking around the room. The air is stale and the lighting bad – courtesy to the shutters being mostly down and the sole window closed.

While Gabriel lets himself flop back onto the bed, Jesse pushes the window open to get some cool, fresh air inside. Gabriel does not comment, merely curls his knees up towards his chest and presses his face into the pillow.

Jesse stands there undecided, arms hanging at his sides, staring at Gabriel a bit helplessly. He feels like he must be looking like a puppy but the sight of his boss being anything but an in-charge bastard is leaving him decidedly off-kilter.

“How you doin’?” he finally makes himself ask, standing there awkwardly, feeling a lot younger and lankier again as he watches Gabriel’s curled up form on the bed.

Gabriel just grunts and turns his head minimally, one dark eye staring at him long and hard. Jesse huffs and takes it, shrugging as he ambles closer.

“Just wanted to make smalltalk,” he mumbles, and Gabriel answers with a rough, deep voice: “Don’t.”

Jesse sits on the edge of the bed, starting to push off his shoes, and socks – and then peeling himself out of the rest of his clothes. Gabriel asking long suffering: “What the fuck are you doing now?”

“Getting comfortable.”

When he’s naked, dick swinging comfortably in the breeze, he crawls behind Gabriel, plastering himself to his back.

“You reek,” the commander comments.

“Just came back from a mission, boss,” he answers mildly, his big arms slowly starting to unfold the small ball Gabriel had curled himself into. Gabriel growls but he does not protest; either because he’s too weak or because he wants to cuddle just as much as Jesse does but doesn’t want to admit it.

Gabriel squirms and Jesse lets him twist his upper body around, face mashing into the humid mess of Jesse’s unkempt beard. He’s not had a chance to trim it in the two weeks out, and it shows.

“Thought I reek,” he croons, hands sliding from Gabriel’s pecs down. He can feel the tight ridges of his abs through the thin fabric of the undershirt he is wearing. Gabriel does not elect to answer, and Jesse doesn’t push him on it; rather, he pushes his hips snug against his commander’s plush ass, cock already taking interest.

“Really?” Gabriel slurs against the warm skin of his neck. “You gettin’ hot for a sick man?”

“Gettin’ hot for everythin’, boss,” Jesse answers easily, and drawls over Gabriel’s derisive snort: “But ‘specially for that nice ass o’ yours… Damn. Been lovin’ it since the first time I seen it.”

Gabriel twists back around at that, his cheeks sporting a lot more color now which is certainly heartening to Jesse who grinds forward, letting Gabriel feel the thick line of his cock as he hooks his chin over his commander’s shoulder and murmurs low and filthy: “Always loved your fat ass…”

He grabs at one thick cheek, digging his fingers in deep, and Gabriel – Gabriel yelps, one hand shooting down to clench on Jesse’s wrist.

“Uh?”

“D-Don’t, I… ah…” He peters out, and Jesse lifts his head, peering into his boss’ face which is all anew wet with sweat, though instead of pale he is decidedly red, eyes glassy as he glances first at Jesse’s face, then back in front of him. “The spoiled food really doesn’t… sit well.”

Jesse squints at him and mulls his words over while still rocking his hips, slowly fucking along Gabriel’s clothed asscrack.

“You got gas?” he finally surmises and Gabriel’s face hardens with annoyance, cheeks darkening as his flush grows fiercer. “Yes, if you want to know so badly,” he hisses, agitated.

They both fall quiet again. Jesse squirms, face feeling hot under his scruff, cock wetting against Gabriel’s tailbone until he feels it due to the tacky fabric against his skin and asks, exasperatedly: “What??”

“…Can I still fuck you? It’s kinda hot.”

Gabriel becomes very still at that, and Jesse keeps gently fucking between his cheeks, staring down to watch it happen – and to not have to look at Gabriel’s no-doubt shocked, disgusted face.

“You’re a freak,” Gabriel finally chokes out, voice a bit high with embarrassment or humiliation – but he does not fight Jesse when he slowly starts tugging his shorts down beneath the swell of his ass.

.o.

“Slow, s-slow,” Gabriel whimpers, body strung so very tight, his hand curled around Jesse’s wrist again, holding on for dear life. Jesse, dutifully, keeps it slow, sweat prickling at his temples as he feels how feverishly hot Gabriel is inside, tight enough to hurt due to him trying so very hard to keep everything… ah… contained…

“‘M trying, jefe,” he whines, “but you need t’ relax a bit… fuck…”

He’s got his other arm curled beneath Gabriel, hand on his lower belly – ostensibly to soothe him and keep him close, but the matter of fact is that he can feel how tight his poor belly was and how the air was moving through his guts, and… and that makes Jesse so very hot.

Hot enough that his cock was flexing within the tight death grip of Gabriel’s body, balls tight enough they goddamn hurt.

“Relax,” he whispers again, “nobody here to judge. If it happens it… it just happens, alright?”

God, but he wants it to happen. Wants Gabriel to… to-

Gabriel whimpers – Goddamn WHIMPERS – and relaxes, and Jesse can’t hear it, but he can feel it – that release of hair slipping by his cock warm and silky and making him jerk forward mindlessly, trying to stuff Gabriel of more dick while his boss has frozen completely in utter mortification.

“Oh fuck… Oh shit… jefe,” Jesse groans, hips jerking forward, body pressing hard and insistent against Gabriel’s back until he’s almost pushed him onto his belly; almost lying on his back and dicking him deep by sheer force of gravity – and of course Gabriel can’t hold on like that.

He tries to, tries to oh-so-hard, grunting with a desperate, tight voice: “Jesse! Jesse, n-no stay – stay still!” but the rutting motions are forcing more air out of him, Jesse’s cock fat and so very substantial; holding him open and not letting him be decent as he dicks him like he’s trying to churn the air inside his guts.

It’s not quiet like this; not when Jesse is throwing caution to the wind and ignoring Gabriel’s cracking voice begging him to stay still, to go slower – he can’t, not when every motion is accompanied by the obscene sound of Gabriel farting on his cock.

“Fuck, boss… f-fuck… so good…” His voice has gone high and whiney. He can’t help it. His ears are burning hot and embarrassed, listening to the sounds he is forcing from his commander’s body, feeling the bubbling air escape next to his cock, and perversely warming his balls.

Gabriel is whimpering, hiding his face in the pillow, body gone lax now that everything is lost. He does not protest Jesse’s hand anymore, grabbing at his ass cheek and pulling it to the side, making the sounds being fucked out of him louder and more prominent – and he does not fight the hand on his belly, gently pressing down, massaging the unwanted air out of his guts.

His cock is… humiliatingly hard, trapped in his shorts, wetting through the fabric as Jesse fills him up to the very brim, his fat cock pressing into all those needy, itching spots that have been begging for a scratch since the kid went out on the mission and took his stupid dick with him.

Jesse sounds like he’s about to bust a vessel behind him, which is… reassuring, somehow. How deeply, unapologetically Jesse is into getting his dick farted on; like he relishes in the humiliation, and, knowing Jesse, he probably does.

He’d probably love it if Gabriel were to slap his dick around; stepped on his balls; told him how bad he was using it. Let him fuck him and be bored about it. Fart on it.

Hell, Jesse has probably already been fantasizing about something like it. Probably put Gabriel in some stupid dominatrix lingerie.

These thoughts make it a bit more bearable. Not like he’s putting his future career completely into Jesse’s huge, nimble hands.

Jesse, meanwhile, is biting at the back of his neck. He’s chuffing like and engine, slurred words of endearment muffled against the wet skin he’s been so liberally drooling against.

“Ye’re the best, jefe. The best. Fuck. Th-Thank you.”

Gabriel closes his eyes, his ears burning, hearing and feeling the relief of finally being able to empty his tight belly of all the excess air. He already feels better. A lot.

“Thank you,” he whispers back, but he’s pretty sure Jesse doesn’t hear him; not when he’s close to coming, cock flexing inside Gabriel, pressing into squishy, hot walls, his mouth wet and hot as he puts it against Gabriel’s ear and mumbles quick and hot: “Can ye fart my cum back out? On my dick?”

Gabriel whines, turns his head away from the scruffy, sloppy kiss Jesse is pressing against his ears and neck – and nods.

ikkanoodles:

my part of a lil trade with @cyberrat they know whats up they knoW

me humble part of The Forbidden PeePee™ trade. I love Ikku’s pics so much ffffff

Jesse plants his hand on the back of Gabriel’s head to hold him down but before Gabriel can bare his teeth and growl in warning, the other Alpha hesitates, then quickly pulls it back again. He’s sweaty and hot behind him, cock nestled between Gabriel’s cheeks; and he sounds worked up enough as if he’d already fucked for hours instead of just nervously trying to find where he could and couldn’t put his hands.

He’s like a grabby little pup as he slowly, carefully feels Gabriel up, and Gabriel grunts and cushions his head on his arms; lets him go at it as long as he doesn’t try to be the ‘Head-Alpha’ again or whatever shit they called their boss in Deadlock.

His past seems so long gone; Jesse doesn’t even look the part anymore. He filled out something nice. Maybe a little too much even around the middle – his hairy belly softer than one would think with all the training he goes through, but Gabriel secretly really likes it. It is nice to feel him up when he wrestles him down and ruts against his ass – and now it is nice to feel press into the small of his back when McCree leans down and presses a strange, wet little suckling kiss against his shoulder blade.

It feels intimate enough to make Gabriel grunt and lift his head, glancing at Jesse over the swell of his shoulder. Jesse pulls back, mumbling something that probably is supposed to be an apology, but his face looks a little feverish above his scruffy beard, his eyes glassy.

He looks already really into all of this even though he’s not gotten his dick into Gabriel.

Gabriel feels strangely pleased at it.

“C’mon. Don’t got all day, kid. Got a few reports waiting for me.”

“Y…Yes, Sir,” he mumbles, huge hands first cupping Gabriel’s trim waist, then sliding farther down – mapping the swell of his hips to their widest point, blunt thumbs pressing into the tops of his ass; mapping out the grooves there, then sliding down and spreading his cheeks.

Gabriel hears McCree make a sound like a wounded animal, high and punched out and he knows he’s watching his own dick nestled between his commander’s asscheeks.

Gabriel smirks secretly and puts his head back down on his arms, waiting for Jesse to finally get on with it.

.o.

There’s no mistaking it when McCree finally ‘gets on with it’. There is no mistaking that.

Gabriel’s mouth falls open, tongue lolling out with another humping, fast thrust. McCree isn’t even properly pulling out – just fucks Gabriel on a couple inches of his dick, making his rim spread around the widest part just above his knot again and again until tears shoot into his eyes.

Gabriel bites his forearm, tamping down on the low grunts McCree fucks out of him – but he can’t help how he’s lifting his ass into it, braced on the balls of his feet, knees not even touching the ground anymore… and that Jesse has noticed that he can’t ignore. Those big hands have shifted, moved to the backs of his thighs, feeling up the rock hard muscle there as he keeps his hips up in the air. McCree whines like a pup. Every now and then it’s like he can’t help himself, body curling forward, his wet mouth wiping messy kisses against Gabriel’s skin, punctuating the suckling with pathetic mewls that go right through Gabriel’s belly and wrap around his dick.

He can’t believe how hot McCree has got him with his goddamn stupid puppy humping. He can’t believe McCree is even fucking like that still; looking like a goddamn brick house and still to the partner he’s mounting and barely letting Gabriel breathe while he got his meaty arms around his belly and chest, getting a frantic little grope of Gabriel’s pecs in as his hips piston. He feels surrounded by McCree. Like he can taste him on the air with his lolling tongue. Like he can taste his dick in the back of his throat because McCree got a juicy cock and he’s never even looked at it before.

“You… you likin’ it, boss?” He mumbles it right against Gabriel’s ear. He must be able to feel the heat radiating off of Gabriel’s blush. He doesn’t want to answer; maybe just growl and elbow him in the side, but instead he groans low and shifts his head in a way that could be interpreted as a nod – and Jesse sucks in air sharply, whispers “Shit yeah…” and suckles on the tip of Gabriel’s ear until he can manage to roll his shoulders and jostle him off because that’s… that’s… it’s just too much….

But of course Jesse would find ways to make him see his… erroneous ways.

.o.

Gabriel is not sure he even realized when Jesse came. He’s not sure Jesse even realized it. But there’s a goddamn mess dripping down to the floor and Jesse sounds like he’s about to keel over while he keeps rutting through it, frothing the loads he already deposited up and making the mess squelch loud and obscene enough for Gabriel to almost try and hide his face in his arms.

“No… no style,” he grits out between his teeth, but he can’t do anything about it; he just has to stay right where he is, getting fucked… bred… goddamn fucking bred by another Alpha, his body feeling hot and feverish like a wound, cock hanging between his thighs, belly feeling filled with McCree’s creamy loads even though he knows it’s not possible; not with the amount that has dripped to the floor, but he still feels like…

“Fuck… Gonna… B-Boss…” Jesse jackknifes again, his meaty arms hooked around Gabriel’s belly, holding him secure – not letting him go even when Gabriel’s foggy, fuck-dumb brain realizes what is going to happen. Not that he… not that he wants to go, but… fuck… fuck it is happening; McCree is rutting in deep, letting him feel all of him from the leaking tip that seems so intent of fucking right through Gabriel’s belly button, to the tender little swell of his knot; that swell that quickly stops being small and tender and expands, fattening up, spreading against Gabriel’s walls right behind his rim until his whole body locks against the sensation, muscles tense, mouth hanging open, saliva dripping from the tip of his tongue…

He’s never been… he’s never felt… this…

Dimly, he can hear Jesse’s whining; can even hear the wet smacking of his little loving kisses – because the kid wouldn’t dare bite his Commander, his superior Alpha even when being crosseyed from knotting – and feel the heat crashing in waves through his body; from the tips of his toes up to the back of his neck.

His body is a trembling, locked mess and all he can do is follow McCree along, his eyes rolling up when he hears the splattering of his own release, endorphins rushing through his body, thighs shaking, biceps going loose and pathetic, elbows sliding apart until his cheek is pressed to the floor, shoulders angled down – presenting almost better than any Omega…

And then the smell hits him. The acrid scent of urine that is like a shock to the system, the heavy come loose body atop him jerking as well – both of them realizing in tandem that Gabriel’s release had not quite been what his overworked brain was thinking – that rather than coming like a freight train he was pissing, the puddle widening rapidly, warming up the knees that have slid down to the ground somewhere in between McCree knotting and him letting loose…

“Damn,” McCree whines, his sturdy hips stuttering, jerking forward and trying to pull back; and just managing to jostle his knot and fuck another spurt of piss from his Commander.

“S-Stay still,” Gabriel croaks, hot faced, not even able to stop his submissive wetting because it feels too good; his body is working against him and there is no way he can stop himself; there is no way when he’s stuffed with McCree’s fat, girthy knot and all he wants to do is show the Alpha how he is submitting to him; how he accepts his dominance and the good, deep breeding that came with it, even though McCree fucked like a damned pup.

Or maybe because of it? Because he was so flattered by Jesse’s mindless, needy rutting?

“Stay, stay, stay,” Jesse suddenly mutters. He must have felt the useless fluttering of muscles beneath him and counters it immediately by wrapping around his Commander more insistently; suckling kisses against his spine. He sounds fucking drunk on knotting that tight, warm space and the sharp smell of his piss.

“Stay just like that. Please,” he whimpers – and Gabriel growls, pathetic and weak, but does as he is told, pressing his hot embarrassed cheeks into the crook of his arm.

“You owe me an orgasm, McCree,” he grunts, another dribble of piss coming from him when McCree immediately nods against the dip of his spine; so eager to please his commanding Alpha.

For the prompt thing – “What a pretty blush.” – Ana/Mercy, early overwatch days!

“What a pretty blush,” Ana purrs, voice pitched deep, eyes friendly and warm as they roam across Angela’s body. She looks gorgeous, sitting in the big chair behind Ana’s desk, skinny legs draped across the arms, showing off her pinkish cunt – spreading the plump lips with long fingers.

She’s only doing it for Ana’s benefit – because Ana asked her to do it – and the knowledge made her feel even more fond of her little pet; how she aimed to please even though it embarrassed her so horribly, blush getting deeper and more pronounced the longer Ana watches with interest.

“The door is not locked,” Ana says softly, leans against the side of the desk so Angela is in full view of the entrance. She smiles when Angela’s breath hitches and her little breasts bounce high on her chest. “You’re going to keep going, though, right? Even if it were to open? Would keep touching your little peach just for me?”

Angela bites her lips, eyes slanting away – demure and unsure just as much as shyly determined.

“Yes, Ma’am,” she whispers, blonde hair falling into her sweaty face. Her blush has reached her belly, and Ana knows, if she just plays with her peach long enough, it’ll become just as deliciously red and swollen.

“Start, baby girl.”