Tag: mccree/zenyatta

My rebellious wifey @robotfvckers donated me a few coffees for Zenyatta with therapy service top McGoo Q.Q too kind too generous. too rebellious  ò.ó

Zenyatta lifts and lowers with the slow, inexorable motion of McCree’s broad chest. He listens to his snoring whenever he inhales; a drawn-out, deep rattle that vibrates through him and makes him feel like he is lying on top of a tiger, or lion – a big, warm cat that has rolled onto its back for him without a hitch. Submitting to the smaller prey.

He starts squirming, slips his smooth thigh up McCree’s body until his hips are shifting against him. He doesn’t want to disturb McCree’s sleep, but he is not down enough to follow, either. In front of Genji it is easier to pretend like Mondatta’s death hasn’t cut him as deeply, but in the night he feels… young and vulnerable. Not as in-control and assured as he usually projects.

There’s a small catch in McCree’s snoring, then he smacks his lips, his mechanical hand slipping from the small of Zenyatta’s back onto his behind, squeezing the supple skin.

“No’ sleep yet?” he rumbles, voice so deep, Zenyatta’s cock flexes, rubbing wet against the broad hip. McCree hasn’t opened his eyes, doesn’t even seem fully awake. He moves on autopilot, easily tugging Zenyatta’s negligible weight until he has the monk seated on top.

“Jus’ secon’“ he slurs, fumbling between them. He is sleep warm, his chest hair coarse and ample beneath Zenyatta’s fingers. He almost wants to be ashamed at his own neediness; wants to apologize – but McCree doesn’t seem put out at all.

He sleepily lifts his dick, the blunt tip pressing against Zenyatta’s still-wet hole – and clumsily tugs at the back of his neck until Zenyatta leans down for some slow, warm, lazy kisses that fill him with prickling, tingling warmth and distract him from the slow, wet slide of McCree’s cock into him.

There’s nothing that could distract him from the stretch and fill for long, though. Not when he can feel McCree’s cock, big and warm, the tip pressing against his belly from the inside, just beneath his belly button.

“There you go.” McCree is barely intelligible. He is pressing warm, wet kisses against Zenyatta’s mouth and his chin and jaw. Everywhere he can reach, and Zenyatta is turning into it like a cat.

He wants to move, but McCree’s big hands are holding his hips still so he can work his cock through Zenyatta’s clenching channel. Slow, sleepy rocking motions as Zenyatta pants warm and moist against his face, breath hitching when the blunt tip presses against his insides especially deep.

He knows if he reaches down he will be able to feel McCree in his belly, but he can’t make himself move. It is nice to be pampered; to have nothing to worry about as McCree croons half-asleep and uses the mess he left in him a few hours ago to easily fuck him once more.

His chest is warm and massive beneath his fingers and when McCree folds his arms around his shoulders, Zenyatta carefully folds his own arms against his chest and lets himself lie down on top of him to get fucked to sleep.

He never knows whether he or McCree ever came, but he does know that he hasn’t slept as deep and peaceful in a long while.

McCree hums tunelessly; it is mostly a sloppy chain of sounds rumbling from his chest as he stares down at his work, shaggy chin on his collarbones, cigar clenched between his teeth in concentration.

“Easy now,” he grunts, big hand on the small of Zenyatta’s back, finger curling around the wide row of bright red cables there. He almost tugs, but Zenyatta goes stiff, his vocals climbing up high and nervous. He’s tittering like a bird and Jesse quickly lets go again, patting at the cables. “That’s alright. No need to fuss around. Ol’ Jesse McCree gotcha.”

He settles for carefully holding the omnic’s waist, big hand able to curl around it in a way that makes his head a little woozy. He never realized how slight of a thing Zenyatta really was.

“That’s right.” He mumbles; tapers off into non-words, probably, as he focuses back on the task at hand; watches himself press his cock against the jutting silicone lips of Zenyatta’s cunt; how they were already dripping with teal fluid, dripping down in sticky strands towards the bed.

His teeth dig in harder into the cigar. It is unlit, but he likes having it between his lips anyway. It is a nice distraction from the tight cunt he is slowly shoving his cock into. Zenyatta opens up for him like a flower, vocals crackling, metal fingers curling carefully into the bedding – calculating not to destroy anything even when he was getting split open by a cock.

Zenyatta is surprisingly easy to fuck. McCree had wondered about it idly – as he usually did while jerking off, thoughts meandering from one team member to the other; thinking about how they’d be when he stuffed them with his dick. How well they’d take it.

He hadn’t thought Zenyatta would be so easy to bend. He hadn’t thought he’d be so delightfully receptive to it: his voice static and high pitched, groaning whenever Jesse pressed in again, cramming a little more of his dick in, making him take him to the absolute hilt and lifting his hips up in the process until his small metal ass was in the air, pulsing, pouting cunt almost pointing to the ceiling.

He let himself get rearranged and mounted and didn’t speak one word of complaint about McCree making him bear his weight: leaning heavily with one big hand between his shoulder blades as he fucked him like an ape, teeth bared around the cigar, growling faintly as he dicked downwards, thighs burning from the awkward half-crouch.

Zenyatta just took it and sang for him, occasionally giving off steam in hissing, damp clouds as he tried to keep cool when McCree gave his cute little omnic cunt hell.

Zenyatta being curious about McCree after genji telling him about the other man. Figuring out how laid back and easygoing the man is in regards to sex and wanting to know how well he can take that thick cock inside of him. McCree being so big he barely fits and zenyatta swearing he can see the iris as he gets fucked nice and slow.

… fuck… this is… *licks lips* this is real good shit. I can just see it in front of me:

Zenyatta so thin and silvery beneath this hirsute bulk of a man; McCree ranging above him like a mountain, cigar in the corner of his mouth, watching under heavy lidded eyes as he stares down between Zenyatta’s legs and contemplates that small robotic pussy he’s been presented with.

He’s got one big hand under Zenyatta’s ass, lifting him up for better perusal. He reaches for his cigar and ashes off into a tray to the side before he thinks better of it and leaves it there to peacefully glow as he takes his cock in hand and lifts it up to smear the head along those pretty, silicon teal folds because his cock is too heavy to stand on its own.

“You sure this’ll fit?” he mumbles a bit dubiously, pressing closer, making Zenyatta spread around the blunt, broad tip. Zenyatta’s voice glitches, his long fingered hands patting nervously at McCree’s barrel chest and thick belly; very careful so he won’t catch any of the dark hair between the joints. “Yes, it will.. it will adapt.”

And McCree hums in contemplation and then shrugs his shoulders and nods and starts going to work.

moves his broad hips in little, rocking thrusts; coaxes his dick in inch by inch and making that pretty little fabricated cunt spread around him. He can hear the soft humming of tiny machines as they scrabble to readjust; can feel the slick, welcoming interior open up around him but just barely enough to allow entrance – and all in all it is a very smooth entry, all considered; only that Zenyatta’s voicebox is crackling with a fuzzy sound, the lights on his forehead all individually dimming and brightening in uneven intervals.

Jesse asks him if he’s alright but he seems to be totally zoned out; like getting spread by so much dick had his processors reeling.. which is pretty flattering, since he hasn’t even done any work yet.

McCree slowly starting to fuck; a very easy, almost sloppy rocking motion of his hips, eyes still heavy lidded, almost bored looking as he fucks, if not for the small slip of tongue at the corner of his mouth and the steep fold between his bushy eyebrows as he concentrates on dicking Zenyatta slow and even; listening to the obscene squelch of his artificial cunt and how it suckles him in again and again, the silicone lips hugging tight around his dick and kissing up to his balls whenever he pushes in especially deep.