They slam onto the mat and it is not clear whether Jack’s pained hiss comes from his old back colliding with the ground or Hanzo’s cock pressing in deeper, taking him dry.

He bucks as if nothing has happened anyway, legs coming up and curling around Shimada’s waist at the same time that he digs his nails brutally into his shoulders.

Hanzo snarls, hair long since slipped from the careful tie and haloing his face in a wild tangle.

He is showing his teeth like a rabid dog as he seems to ride the pain caused by Jack clawing at him and uses the energy to grunt fuck deeper into him.

Jack’s belly is on fire, everything below his navel burning as Shimada raws him, and he’s not felt so alive in months. Years, maybe. He’s already forgotten what they’ve gotten into a spat about this time, but both of them look for the smallest apologies to try and rip each other open.

“That’s all you got, Shimada?” he growls, already gravelly voice barely decipherable at this point; speech choppy from gaspin, labored breaths. “You fuck like you’re on sedatives. Didn’t get taught how to do it properly by your Yakuza friends?”

Hanzo snarls again, his eyes big and dark and wild looking. One hand curls around Jack’s throat and slams him back down, squeezing down just enough to make breathing decidedly uncomfortable but not impossible.

“I will make you shut up, old man.”

4th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 2nd Fill

McHanzo + Soldier76 – housewife!Hanzo; rape play; breath play; name calling; dirty talk; dehumanization; forced feminization; hair pulling/rough – Jesse brings the Commander over without first talking to Hanzo about it. The Commander is very good at playing his part.

“Babydoll,” Jesse calls out, throwing a quick glance behind him to make sure Jack is closing the door quietly, not making a sound. “Daddy’s home.”

There’s a moment of stillness, then the soft sound of dishes clicking on the counter as they are set down.

“Yes,” comes the reply. It is simple. Reserved. There’s the soft tap of Hanzo’s prosthetic feet on the naked floor and then he is standing in the doorway, an apron secured around his waist. It does not look too special; casual. A simple shield for the sudsy, dirty water – but it is also white and frilly around the edges and seems decidedly out of place on the otherwise austere man wearing it.

Hanzo’s face is unreadable as he stares at them for a bit too long, dark eyes twitching between them. He seems impassive until his fingers start curling around the very edge of the apron. He looks self-conscious.

“Commander,” he says carefully and slowly, gaze lingering on Jesse, his high cheekbones flushing more and more.

Jack does not say anything. He stares back with a blank expression, waiting – and Jesse jumps in smoothly, making his way deeper into the living quarters that are decidedly too small for three big men like them.

“None a’ that now, babydoll. We’re not too formal here. I brought Jack over for a nice beer. Told him about my little wife – he said he’d like to meet her.”

Hanzo is frozen to the spot, face still stony, yet there is a minimal shift in the set of his eyebrows and the twist of his mouth that makes him look… betrayed. Vulnerable. He stares at Jesse, fingers curled tightly into the hem of his apron, frozen to the spot.

He looks like a deer caught in the headlights, and there is a certain kind of fragility in the air as all three men wait how this will play out; whether Hanzo will flee or fight – or play along like a good girl.

Jesse takes a cautious step closer, head lowering a bit, staring intently at Hanzo. His voice is deep, soothing but urging at the same time.

“Jack would love his beer now, baby.”

Hanzo swallows, and the click of his dry throat is almost audible. There’s another second of mute staring and then Hanzo turns on his heel and retreats.

Jesse lets out the air he’s been holding and turns, throwing Jack a roguish grin. The Commander smirks back lopsidedly, steely eyes still lingering on the spot the archer had occupied before following the sweep of Jesse’s arm and making his way towards the small table.

He is unselfconscious about the erection tenting his pants as he moves, not trying to hide the fact that he’s already very aroused at the prospect of playing tonight. Jesse does not mention it, either – he is in much the same predicament, after all.

.o.

Jesse does not think that Hanzo did it deliberately but he does sure appreciate the delicious irony in the situation as the shaking of Hanzo’s hands caused the bottle to fall and empty itself across Jack’s lap.

He’s never played with someone Jesse just brought along – or someone they both know and work with for that matter – and it definitely shows. He is nervous and twitchy, and now he’s staring at Jack’s angry face with an open anxiousness that should not get Jesse’s cock wet at the tip but does it regardless.

Jack’s mouth is pinched into a tight line as he sets the beer bottle back onto the table. When Hanzo still just stands there, staring, he barks: “Well? Do something!”

Hanzo jerks, his face going hard for a second as his ever-present pride rears its head, but a quick glance at Jesse’s expectant gaze seems to quell the urge to sneer and talk down to them.

Instead he mumbles: “Apologies…” and turns to retreat and get a washcloth. Jack’s arm snaps out, curling hard around Hanzo’s wrist before he can go anywhere.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His bright eyes are unsettling as he stares at Hanzo without blinking. He tugs hard, making Hanzo stumble towards him.

“Jesse told me about his well-behaved little cunt of a wife, but all I’m seeing is some clumsy bimbo.” Hanzo’s cheeks start burning again, his mouth going soft and open in shock over the commander’s harsh words. Jack’s hand is still curled around the archer’s thick wrist, holding on tight, short nails digging harshly into his skin. “You didn’t even put on something pretty for us. That’s not very nice.”

His eyes flick down, and his already rough voice becomes hard to understand as it gets a bit deeper: “Least you got some nice tits. You should show them off more.”

Hanzo pulls weakly at the grip Jack has on him, his voice cracking as he veritably whispers: “Y-You are hurting me…”

Jack’s eyes flick to Jesse, but he is just sitting there relaxed, watching the scene unfold.

Emboldened, Jack turns back to Hanzo and pulls hard. Hanzo stumbles, and, even though the maneuver would not be enough to knock him down usually, lets himself now fall hard to his knees in front of Jack.

“Clean the mess you made, girlie.”

Hanzo’s eyes become glassy at the nickname, mouth so soft and red as he dazedly stares at the Commander’s beer-wet crotch in front of him. When he doesn’t move quick enough, Jack’s other hand snatches a fistful of his hair, gripping harsh enough that Hanzo cries out in distress, face twisted in pain.

The Commander does not care about it, pulling him close, dragging Hanzo’s cheek against the rough denim and hard bulge of his cock.

“I said. Clean it.”

Hanzo is panting, voice shot as he assents with a shaky: “Y-Yes, Sir…” after throwing a helpless gaze towards Jesse who remains impassive to his plea.

They watch as Hanzo sets to work, licking at the beer-wet jeans, and, after another harsh twist of Jack’s fist in his hair, opens his mouth wide above where the tip of his cock pushes against the fabric, and starts sucking.

Jack groans, thick thighs falling open more easily, rigid shoulders losing some of their tense lines.

“Ahh, fuck. That’s exactly what I needed.”

Jesse smirks. There’s a high flush on his cheeks – the open, unselfconscious vulgarity of the Commander seems to intoxicate him way more than the bit of alcohol he’s sipped at while watching the show.

“I am glad I could be of service,” he murmurs. Jack barks a laugh. He pulls Hanzo away via the grip he has on him, not looking at the archer’s face as he begins opening his pants with the other hand.

“Should get myself an obedient cunt like that,” he murmurs. “But I’m not ready to settle down yet. Women are always so goddamn picky about everything. Think you got a good catch with yours, though. You’re not picky, are you?”

His cock is out and suddenly his blue eyes snap back to Hanzo’s face, a smug grin spreading on his face when he catches Hanzo staring near mesmerized at the faintly flushed cock in front of him. Paler skin than Jesse’s, and not as thick, but still plenty interesting.

Jack slaps him with three fingers; hard enough to make a showy, loud slapping noise while Hanzo grunts more in surprise than in pain.

“I asked you something, bimbo.” And then, without missing a beat: “Yeah, you’re not picky. Doesn’t Jesse give you enough dick? You sniffing around for cocks behind his back when you’re supposed to clean the house and do the laundry?”

He does not expect Hanzo to talk, obviously. He already has him pulled forward, his grip in the dark hair unrelenting and harsh and domineering everything as he drags him onto his cock and pushes deep, listening to the wet gagging and watching the desperate, instinctual struggle before Hanzo’s training kicks in and he obediently lets himself get used.

Already, his nose is running and his eyes are suspiciously wet as Jack keeps him down just to listen to the click of his throat and the badly suppressed gagging.

Jesse is laughing next to them now, full bellied and carefree – like he’s heard the best joke in the world and isn’t idly sitting by while Hanzo struggles for air until the Commander finally lets him go to breathe.

“She’s a good girl. Don’t be so harsh, Commander. I fill ‘er up plenty. Give her li’l womb somethin’ t’ work with – but she’s greedy. Always knew that. No problem with that, to be honest.”

“Clever man,” Jack nods, staring intently in Hanzo’s dark eyes, pupils blown wide. “I think we can have a lot of fun. I can take care of you when your husband is… indisposed.” He laughs when Hanzo whines and licks sloppily at the wet tip of his cock, trying to noisily slurp it back into his mouth. “But I’ll have you know that I’ll be a lot stricter than he is. Gotta have myself a pretty little lady waiting for me when I come home. Want a nice ready cunt to pull on my dick whenever I want…”

Hanzo’s face goes slack, mouth open wide and tongue out obediently as Jack slaps his cock against it, wiping the salty pre-cum against the soft insides of his cheeks.

“Are you going to be a good girl?”

They both laugh when Hanzo tries to answer without closing his mouth, a degrading sound of raw need croaking from him as he drools, hands kept prim and proper in his lap – on top of the apron.

terato-imagines:

@cyberrat Here it is buddy I loved writing this it was so delicious

This fic includes: Rape play, Genji putting Jack up to ‘servicing’ Hanzo, janitor!McCree AU, feminization, slutshaming, Hanzo being ‘forced’ into getting fucked, Jack being nasty, mentions of sloppy seconds, implied Shimadacest, Genji being Hanzo’s ‘husband’ housewife!Hanzo

“My heater is broken, Mr. McCree. I need you to come and fix it. Again.”

The mere sound of Hanzo’s voice sends a nervous pulse of energy between Jesse’s legs, and he has to school himself from whimpering. “M’real sorry, ma’am, but I ain’t in town today, can’t come in.”

Hanzo lets out a pissed off huff, then sighs. He hears the rustling of Hanzo’s skirt and then the slick noises of the ‘housewife’ more than likely still fingering himself.

“Then I will call your replacement,” he states, and then Jesse’s listening to the beeping of an ended call. His breath rushes out in a relieved sigh, swallowing hard afterwards. He feels a tinge of fear for either Hanzo or Gabe, he has no clue which.

Keep reading

oh my goodnessssss

rape play is so good T.T and Jack is so nasty I love itttttt

you did so well *claws at face*

how about soft cock tigh fucking?

“No. Keep still. Yes… just like that. Tense them for me a bit – ah exactly. Perfect. Damn.”

Soldier’s hand is unrelenting in Hanzo’s hair, fisted tightly at the back of his head, keeping it pulled back enough to stretch his throat and make it difficult to swallow.

He is rocking his hips, cock sliding through the mess of lube he left between the archer’s upper thighs, their clench warm and hard around him.

“Don’t get sloppy now,” he rasps right into Hanzo’s ear, free hand gripping at his hip, keeping him nice and steady for the slow, leisurely thrusts. “Keep them pressed together. Give me a nice place to fuck into, and maybe I’ll be persuaded to switch out for your slutty hole later.”

Hanzo groans – Soldier can feel the heat of his eager flush against the lips pressed to the shell of his ear. He grins and rewards him with another thrust – this time a little sharper; a snap of hips that has his pelvis noisily slap against the supple cheeks of Hanzo’s ass, the swollen head of his cock nudging against his balls.

Hanzo’s breath hitches. He is restless before him even though he tries to keep still enough for the Soldier to fuck into the warm, tight space between his thighs. His back bows forward, ass angling into the cup of 76′s hips. He’s as needy as they come, hoping wordlessly, mindlessly, he might re-evaluate his decision after all and push back, back, back, let the wide, blunt head of his dick nudge against that hungry, well-fucked hole Hanzo’s so very generous with providing everybody with.

“Would you need preparation?” 76 breathes, breath hot and wet as it fans across the side of Hanzo’s face, his fingers rubbing mindless circles in the sharp hipbone, tracing the cut of his muscles down towards his groin. “Or could I slide just right in? Maybe you’re still wet with cum… Who used you, Hanzo?”

He hums, fingers encountering what he’s been looking for, chin hooking across the muscled swell of Hanzo’s shoulder to stare down his body and watch himself play with his cock – soft and flushed a little pink.

It looked vulnerable on the palm of his wide hand. A sweet little dick whose head was just a bit wet beneath the foreskin – the only outward sign of how excited the archer was by this.

Hanzo makes a weird sound when he feels him finger his cock; an almost gurgle that dips into a deep, throaty rasp when the Soldier rudely wriggles a fingertip into the tender opening of his foreskin, the rough pad of the digit rounding the spongy, wet tip again and again.

“Don’t get lazy,” he reminds him in a low, heated growl, hips still pumping, fucking the warm space between Hanzo’s thighs, other hand now shoving his head forward, allowing him to look down; both of them watching how he plays with the soft cock; lets it dance on negligently wriggling fingers.

“You need preparation, Hanzo?” he asks again, pushing forward, watching the warm mound of his testicles move as they get nudged by his cock. “You need me to fuck you on a few of my fingers? Get you ready for dick?”

Hanzo mutely shakes his head. His mouth is hanging open. He’s drooling a bit; enraptured by feeling a big cock tantalizingly close to the needy, aching space he wants it to be, and the sight of the good Soldier playing with his cock, jerking it with a loose fist as if he really was hard.

76 breathes out noisily; watches the clear string of pre-cum dripping out of the folds of Hanzo’s foreskin, listening to his fast, shallow breathing.

“Could you come like that?” he rasps, a sudden spike of excitement making him stutter almost to a stop.

Hanzo makes a soft noise. Broken and helpless.

The Soldier curses under his breath and rolls on top of the archer, teeth bared in a snarl, eyebrows pulled together as he fucks the space between Hanzo’s thighs in earnest, spurned on by the thought of Hanzo being such a cock slut he’d be able to come just from the thought of getting his ass reamed.

“Goddamn slut. So good.”

Hanzo/Soldier76

yo! the fruits of my just finished baby live-writing. Enjoy. Also for @francisxie who was thirsty for the ship and I wanted to help x3

Hanzo’s fingers are curled tightly into the lapels of 76’s jacket. The digits have become numb, and the synthetic nerves connecting his legs to his thighs are going haywire, making his feet twitch and his calves actually spasm.

He can’t remember when last he had felt that particular sensation; it was not unwelcome. The burn pulled up his legs and down his curved back to concentrate in the hot mess his pelvis region had become after the second orgasm stolen out of him.

His hips were a cup filled with lava, his cock feeling too tender and his balls aching in the most pleasant way possible; he felt wrung dry and sated, and still his hips were angled back – still he let 76 finger him sweetly, deeply, helping him calm down from the desperate high he had pushed him into in way too short a time.

Hanzo cants his upper body forward, one hand laboriously loosening its death grip on the dark leather to slide up onto one strong shoulder, and then further into the nape of the man’s neck. He nuzzles unthinkingly against the cool synthetic mesh fibre of the mask covering the man’s face.

“Take it off,” he demands in a sated slur, cheek rubbing against the material. The English words feel foreign in his mouth and he would have been surly about how much his tongue refused to curl around them, making him probably sound like a fool – but he can’t dredge up the energy to do so.

He feels calm. Mellowed down by the two orgasms 76 had given him with surprising patience; sitting steadfast on the rickety chair in the run-down little farm house they had chosen for their illicit tryst, not wavering once, no matter how wanton Hanzo moved atop of him, riding his fingers, twisting his hips in sharp, little snaps.

He’d been silent and watching – staring at him through the orange-red of his visor, eyebrows drawn slightly up as if in mild surprise… or amusement. He honestly couldn’t say; he didn’t know the man enough.

“No,” 76 told him, voice gruff but not unkind. His free hand slid along Hanzo’s thigh; rubbed across his hip, thumb testing the sharp edge of Hanzo’s hipbone. “One more?”

Hanzo groaned and shook his head ‘no’, but when he felt the fingers inside him start moving with intent once more, sliding, thrusting, gently circling, he merely presses his forehead against 76’s shoulder and lets him go at it, no matter the electricity sparking through his belly and right into his spent cock, and how on much on pain it is edging.

There is a small puddle of Hanzo’s cooling cum in 76’s lap. Hanzo can see it when he peeks down blearily. He made a right mess out of the stranger.

He can’t believe they only met a few hours ago on the outskirts of a village near Hanamura; a chance encounter, one in a million. He can’t believe he is letting this man do this to him; wreck him on nothing but a couple rough, broad fingers that circle his prostate with near loving care, prodding with soft, gentle fingertips at the ripe swell of it until Hanzo chokes on a cry and bites into the protective mesh covering the man’s throat.

He doesn’t even know his name.

He doesn’t know how he looks beneath his tactical gear. His mask. He doesn’t know whether he is cut, whether he has scars, burns, beauty marks. He doesn’t know whether he is hard beneath those heavy pants he’s wearing.

It’s been enough an hour ago – when Hanzo’s been desperate enough for touch, crawling all over him as soon as it had become apparent he wouldn’t be adverse to the advances. Throwing himself at him like a cat in heat, mewling for it in his own quiet way…

(Panting against the stranger’s ear, whispering about how very much he needed this; needed to get speared by cock and spread open and used like a harlot; all of this in a language he knew 76 would not understand.

How nice it had been of him to give in. How sweet. How accomodating. Letting Hanzo crawl onto his lap, naked and eager, coming down on him like a gentle, insistent storm, wanting all his desires fulfilled and seemingly getting his wishes – until those fingers didn’t pull away after pushing him unerringly into his first orgasm. Until they stay and enjoy the contractions and twitching before taking up their eager, deep exploration of his body yet again, making him groan and buck and hang on for dear life.)

And now it was no longer enough. Hanzo wanted to get at skin – wanted to claw his way beneath the thick leather of the jacket and bite into real skin instead of the protective mesh; wanted to fucking see his face as he rode his fingers.

“Let me see,” he demands, fingers scrabbling at the sides of the mask, useless and still numb, searching for the clasps to release it and grunting softly in frustration when 76’s free hand comes up and easily catches his wrists, pulling his hands down and away. Hanzo wildly wonders whether he used the right words – whether 76 even understood what he was asking of him. His brain goes haywire, not understanding that someone could refuse his demand.

His hips are jerking back, body shuddering, mouth dropping open, and he doesn’t realize he’s coming a third time until he is coming down from it, muscles slowly relaxing from their desperate, tight clench that took the breath from him.

He looks down his body, between the triangle of his caught arms – hands held against 76’s chest – and just stares dumbly at his cock. It’s not even hard; just chubby, vaguely interested, raw looking. His balls hurt gently. He didn’t shoot cum because they’re drained already; he came dry and his brain can’t comprehend the situation.

“One more,” 76 tells him, head dipping forward. Hanzo can’t see his eyes – he has no idea what their color might be – but he still feels like the stranger is searching for his gaze.

Hanzo lifts his head from his quiet perusal of his own cock and just stares back.

“One more,” 76 says again, a little slower this time, voice like sandpaper.

Hanzo doesn’t understand what he is saying until the fingers start moving again. His hole is fucked soft and pliant; clenching weakly as Hanzo’s mouth falls open. He is panting like a dog, and instead of the ‘no, no, no’s he wants to say, he is whispering pathetically breathy ‘ah, ah, ah’s, mouth open, drool slicking from the corner into his beard.

His eyes slant closed, cat-like, belly heaving as he bows his back and pushes it forward. His body is moving on its own, trying simultaneously to strain away and towards the fingers spreading inside him, testing the texture of the spongy, warm walls, scissoring open to lay around his prostate – the needy gland snuggled in between them as much as possible.

He feels like he’s never going to see this man again after this. 76 will drag this out of him, steal it out of him, and leave him a drooling, satisfied mess on the rickety cot in the corner of the rundown place.

He’ll leave on his way, wherever he came from, and Hanzo will wonder what took him to Japan in the first place.

He doesn’t know his name or even what his face looks like, and the sensation crawling up his belly from deep down in his pelvis, is so great, so all consuming, it is frightening. His head falls back and he stares at the ceiling, hips twisting, rocking, jerking. He is drooling and feels delirious. He doesn’t know what this man did to him.

He can feel his heartbeat through the thick material of his jacket where his palms are pressed against his chest by his own restricting hand. It is thudding quick and strong.

Hanzo wonders whether the stranger will think about this for as long as he surely will.