Oh oh oh! What about dom!Gabe instructing Jesse to go on a Hanamura train, wearing a certain article of clothing that signals that he’s to be groped. However, the surprise is that the whole car is on it. And EVERYONE wants a piece. Cue Jesse get his wrists tied up by the hanging straps or having his legs spread for pictures. there was a name for this but I don’t remember what. :3

Gabriel reaches down to get a good hand full of the kid’s ass, squeezing hard enough to make Jesse go on the tips of his feet as he wipes his wet lips against his dom’s jaw. He is making needy little sounds that almost make Gabriel re-think the whole plan to get the kid into the train station restroom and fuck him against a dirty toilet stall.

He can feel McCree’s cock against his hip, too; eager and hard, probably leaking everywhere. The kid was so hot for the experience, Gabriel couldn’t bring himself to call it all off just to get that warm, gripping hole on his dick that McCree was so very generous with.

“You ready?” he murmurs when the train pulls up into the station. Jesse whines high and nervous. His eyes are a little too wet and his cheeks burn a deep red. He looks like he’s on his best way into subspace already and Gabriel smirks as he reaches down and pops open the button of his jeans, eyes not leaving his sub’s face as he carefully pulls down the zipper until Jesse’s young, sleek cock pushes out into the air.

“Well then. In with you, slut.” He pushes Jesse towards the door that slides open, watching as the kid stumbles and awkwardly hobbles because his pants are sliding farther down his coltish hips. He looks fucking drunk, and Gabriel can’t wait to get his hands on the video footage afterward.

All those hands on Jesse’s body; how he’d look freaked out and needy, faintly, sluggishly struggling in their groping hands after the first commented about the kid’s dick being out in the open and already flushed with need.

He’d gather him up later, draped across the back of a chair, hole soft and gaping, cum trailing down towards his balls – and Jesse’d tell him about how two big guys held him down and spread his legs and showed the whole car what he had to offer.

Jesse was such a good slut.

Part of my art trade for @offbrandkreuz who wanted a lil something for their pic of omorashi Reyes during his training interrogation which looks mmmmhhh ❤ *kisses fingers like chef*

They’re still afraid of their commander, even 18 hours in and with him fixated tightly to the chair. Reynolds nearly got his nose mashed by a suddenly jerking knee, and now Reyes can’t move much at all anymore, thighs and calves bound tightly to the chair, back ramrod straight to accommodate his cuffed arms.

Jesse was star struck and uncommonly shy. He keeps to the back of the bunch, arms awkwardly crossed in front of him and shoulders pulled up as he tries to explain away the heat he feels in his belly the longer the ordeal goes on.

The room was hot and stinking with hormones and sweat; some of the guys have started ducking out just to gulp in fresh air, but Jesse couldn’t make himself leave other than for quick restroom breaks and sips of water.

They didn’t have the guts to seriously get on Reyes’ case and the wild twinkling in his eyes showed that he knew as well. He was lazy almost, head tilting back, showing them his jugular; eyes heavy lidded. Sensual.

He was daring them to finally make a move and nobody was daring to step forward.

Jesse stared at the way Reyes’ feet moved, a slow tipping up of the heavy steel capped toes that had taken up in frequency. Something was up and it intrigued Jesse but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“You’re a bunch of useless idiots,” Reyes sighed, rolling his eyes. Jesse’s mouth was standing open and he didn’t realize. He was staring at the commander’s face, a thin sheen of sweat had sprung up along his hairline.

His foot started flexing more noticeably and Jesse squeezed at his own biceps nervously because Reyes was bound down and unable to move much, and it did things to him.

.o.

Reyes had started getting more assertive, and while Jesse knew something was up, he would never have thought….

For 18 hours the commander had kept an almost zen-like quiet, only snorting derisively at their attempts to make him ‘talk’, and they’d been almost startled when he suddenly broke it.

He was sweating more noticeably, little pearls of moisture sliding down his throat or getting caught in his mustache. His knee was bouncing as much as possible.

Jesse was clenching his arms so hard around his chest it hurt to breathe. His cock was swollen and he didn’t dare to move even an inch, afraid others would notice.

They weren’t paying attention to him, though. They were circling Reyes like starved hounds, his goading and the length of the assignment getting to them. Maybe they had all thought they’d break it off sooner; that they didn’t have to try and go against their commander for 18 hours.

Their eyes are shining and their teeth are bared. They look feral and Jesse is just skulking around in the back, watching and breathing fast and shallow, and not trying to nut off.

When Reynolds breaks it startles all of them, though not as much as what happens after.

He roars in frustration and kicks at the chair hard enough to make it fall over with the heavy bulk of their commander in it. They’re all quiet, stunned by the sudden outbreak – and the fact that Reyes whimpers, a tight, little sound in the back of his throat, his eyes clenched tight as he-

Jesse watches, throat dry, cock pulsing as the crotch of Reyes’ thick, dark pants starts darkening even more, going wet and clinging to the bulge of his cock before quickly spreading out to the sides.

“Wha…” one of the guys murmurs and Jesse wants to reach down and squeeze his cock. He’s almost panting like a dog watching as the fabric can’t soak up more of the hot urine and it starts to well out from it, forming a quickly spreading puddle on the ground as Reyes lies helplessly, bound in a way that didn’t give him an option of even covering himself as his recruits stand stock still (rock hard…) and watch him piss himself.

Jesse imagines that he can even hear the stream of the piss; imagines the wet fabric clinging well enough to show the outline of his commander’s cock. His eyes flick up towards his face, his brown cheeks dark with a flush, bushy eyebrows drawn together in angry frustration. It’s when he slants his eyes open and looks at them out of the corner of them, teeth bared and a growling “You all failed!” barked at them that Jesse finally jerks to himself and turns around, legs feeling numb as he flees from the room and into the supply closet just across the hall.

He comes before he has gotten a good stroke in, the mental image of his commander lying in his own piss vivid in front of his eyes, thinking again of all the little tells that should’ve tipped him off but hadn’t.

Holy shit.

I asked @ikkanoodles whether I could write a little something accompanying his pic of Jesse and Reyes frotting and he said yes ❤ ❤ thanks again!!

“Could at least let me finish my smoke, kid. Shit…”

Reyes lets himself get pushed back against the edge of his desk. Jesse mumbles something into the warm space beneath his chin, voice high and whiny as he presses close, arms tight around his Commander’s torso.

McCree is young and greedy, and it shows in situations like this: When he is high off a training session done well, and cocky enough to ignore his own laughable awkwardness and be pushy about what he wants.

Reyes can’t say he doesn’t enjoy the attention or the puppy eagerness as McCree traces wet, suckling kisses against his jaw, dragging his lips against Gabriel’s goatee and seeking for his mouth.

Gabriel grins, free hand coming up to cup McCree’s cheek, helping him to angle his head better for them to make out.

“You been hot for this for a while, eh?” Reyes mumbles against Jesse’s lips, vaguely aware of the smoldering cigarette still between relaxed fingers. McCree whines again – a short affirmative as he nudges himself closer, warm breath puffing excitedly against his Commanding Officer’s lips.

“Easy now,” Reyes sighs, body twisting minimally, to better slot their hips together. Already he can feel McCree’s cock warm and insistent against his own crotch.

“No patience,” he admonishes in a low rumble, thumb wiping soothingly against the kid’s cheekbone. He is pressing slow kisses against his quick, pretty mouth, not letting himself get deterred by Jesse’s overeager whining; how wet he’s already gotten their lips as he huffed with an open mouth, eyebrows drawn together in helpless concentration as his hips buck forward against Reyes.

It doesn’t take long until Jesse starts calming down and lets Reyes take over – lips becoming slack and receiving for the slow, indulgent kisses the Commander presses against them, eyes heavy lidded, watching the flush on McCree’s face and how it brings out the small dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose.

Every now and then he pulls away, breathing deep and carefully controlled as he slides his thighs farther apart and lets the kid slot more firmly in between. He’ll curl the hand with the cigarette over Jesse’s shoulder, taking a slow drag as the kid waits impatiently for more kisses, one hand sliding beneath Reyes’ hoody, pressing large and insistent and warm against the small of his back.

“That’s it,” Gabriel hums, voice smoke rough, feeding the last tendrils to the kid whenever he starts kissing him again; tongue sliding out in a slow drag first along Jesse’s lower lip, then dipping inside teasing and shallow because McCree was too easy too please; too quick to distract by his own cock bumping against an answering bulge, hips jerking and rutting forward.

“Shit… yeah…” Gabriel sighs, tugging at the kid’s too long hair absent minded, feeling the gun calluses against his back when Jesse starts petting him there.

He jerks when a sharp tone slices through the warm, panting cocoon they wrapped around themselves, turning away from Jesse’s suckling, needy kisses to peer behind him at his desk. There next to his steaming cup of coffee was his phone, display alight, moving slightly across the wood with the force of the vibrations.

He thinks about taking the call for about three seconds before Jesse is moving, hands sliding down and gripping the plump swell of Reyes’ ass – really digging in and pulling him towards his rocking hips, and… yeah. Yeah, whoever’s calling can try again later when he’s not busy.

Reyes even helps McCree then; lets himself get pushed up onto the edge of his desk, thighs spreading for the kid in welcome, heavy boots crossing loosely behind the backs of his knees as McCree starts humping him with vigor, sweet, high sounds spilling from his throat, cheek lying almost dream like against his commanding Officer’s broad shoulder as he dry humps and gropes.

Gabriel wants to be annoyed by his puppy enthusiasm – wants to scoff and push him away and tell him to fucking learn a thing or two before coming here again – but he can’t. He’s too much into this; how greedy McCree is, unabashedly chasing his orgasm, rutting against him in small, desperate motions that make his head feel like it was filled with cotton.

He liked rubbing one off against McCree, dry humping like teenagers in his smoke filled office, listening to his hot, little sounds of need and hugging his hard body to his own.

He maybe wouldn’t admit to it freely – but he liked it. Very much, so.

Jack is a farm boy who knows all the right techniques to pull all the milk from Gabe’s chest and never spills a drop unless he intends to. He’s got the right hand techniques, just the right pressure in each pull and is efficient about it. Jesse has no idea. He has never SEEN a cow before or been near a tit to draw milk out of it. He’s loud, messy, at least a third ends up on his chin, he hiccups and burps and takes forever unless yelled at and hes sloppier then too. Its cute and Gabe hates it.

Gabriel couldn’t believe how bad someone who dressed as a goddamn cowboy was at nursing. He couldn’t believe the goddamn stupid, milkdrunk expression McCree got within the first couple sloppy pulls, or the way he pawed clumsily at his pecs, trying to massage more liquid out of him and failing.

Nursing McCree was an unending trial of patience, yet he found himself again and again in the inexplicably need to seek him and his ever-moving mouth out.

It had taken the kid three sessions until he finally figured out how to do a proper seal, yet still he preferred to pop off Gabriel’s puffy nipple every now and then just to smack his milk stained lips together with an obnoxious, wet sound, looking so goddamned content with his life, Gabriel wanted to slap him upside the head.

Truth was… Gabriel could have it any way he wanted; he could easily seek out Jack and demand him to take care of the fucking mess, but Jesse had a certain… charm to him.

He simply enjoyed nursing. His goddamned face lit up every time he got caught at the scruff like an errant puppy and pulled into Gabriel’s office. He got overeager hard ons more often than not, positively panting until he was allowed to come close and latch on.

There was a simple, eager happiness about him that was impossible to ignore.

He also was a fucking punk kid that liked to play around, lapping uselessly at Gabriel’s puffy tits while lounging in his lap like an oriental king – but he took the resulting abuse in stride; laughing and rubbing the back of his head before latching on properly again.

Nursing Jesse felt stupidly right. He felt himself more and more loathe to seek out Jack – preferred the intimacy of his Blackwatch subordinate. It felt like it stayed in the family that way.

Please for the love of god write that McReyes lac fic. I am begging you. Holy shit.

threehanzomoon:

cyberrat:

I feel like @cptprocrastination would write it way better than me

(also I wanna read it not write it lool. I’m a lazy butt)

(Shameless plug for the Overwatch sideblog)

Gabriel tried to think who the fuck he pissed off to end up where he was. How many things had to just go ass over kettle wrong to end up in this fucking situation. The mission was done but had gone to utter hell. They’d nearly been blown up. Gabriel had narrowly missed getting his head smashed by debris but for the most part he was fine.

A cough came from his lap and Gabriel looked down at the idiot of a teen who’d taken not just a few shots to the body armor but a blow to the head that had been meant for him. In truth…his gut went cold as he thought about it… Jesse was in very bad shape. He did what he could for the kid, got them to a safe spot if small and enclosed waiting for pickup, but now they had to wait.

He tightened the belt around McCree’s upper left arm, down near the elbow. Then there was that…or what was left of that. Damnit the kid didn’t have time…

As McCree moved and groaned and tears started to fall again from the pain Gabe could do nothing about he felt a pain in his chest. No, he told himself, it wasn’t from the situation. God he didn’t need to encourage the pup but he was still Gabe’s responsibility.

No he and Jack had gotten into a tiff about the operation and he hadn’t been milked since Tuesday and if his watch was right (after he rubbed Jesse’s blood off the face of it) it was now Sunday.

“Fuck”

Keep reading

fffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff

yeeesssss goooooooodddddd

Bruh… Young McCree with a praise kink, bending over backwards and submissive AF for Gabe in the bedroom just to get any kind of encouragement or compliment. Getting hella turned on when Gabe fucks his throat or spanks him when fucking him. Fuckkn… This shitty kid in a collar, drooling and panting when he’s called a good boy

Alternatively: Gabe wants to show his protege off to Jack, prove that this kid was a good investment, so he has the commander come down to watch he and Jesse spar. Except Jesse is the kind of guy who gets adrenalin boners, and Gabe is a petty bitch who’s been getting the cold shoulder from too-good-for-this-shit Morrison. Sparring turns into suggestive wrestling, and then into fucking Jesse through the floor. Jack can’t help but watch, grumpy but turned the fuck on.

*shifty af eyes*

why not….. both….

Gabriel throws an arm around the kid’s shoulder as they walk down the hallway. He hears his surprised little intake of air and magnanimously ignores it. Instead, he tucks him in close to his chest, arm curling tight around his neck to tilt his head closer. Gabriel angles towards him – a practiced move to let the hood shield most of his face.

“Listen to me, pretty boy,” he growls low. Close like this, he feels like he can almost smell the immediate rush of hormones the kid produces. He feels McCree swivel subtly, tucking himself more firmly beneath his commanding officer’s arm, chin angling towards his chest as he glances at him; everything about him puppy eager.

“You improved a lot these past weeks. Stopped being a little punk shithead.” He jostled him a little, eyes flicking between his face – slowly filling with hectic red dots – and the hallway they were marching down. “I told Morrison to get his ass down and watch you work. So…”

He halts him just before the locker rooms and leans in a little closer still, voice dropping, staring into the kid’s eyes to get his point across.

“You gonna be on your best behavior. Show him what you’re made of. And maybe you’ll get a little treat afterwards. Got it?”

McCree’s mouth opens in a vacant expression of dreamy surprise, his eyes fixed – not on Gabriel’s gaze, but lower, staring at the curve of his lips.

Kid knew how good recruits got rewarded.

“Yes, Sir,” he breathes and Reyes puts one large hand into the back of his neck, squeezes it and shakes him once, firmly.

“Good boy.”

He should’ve known that he’d made a tactical error.

.o.

McCree had a boner large enough to tent the front of the black training elastics he wore, and Morrison couldn’t stop staring at it. He had noticed – Gabriel had noticed – he was pretty sure everybody had noticed, just not the kid himself.

He looked feverishly eager, a glint in his eyes that seemed almost crazy as he threw himself against Gabriel again and again, his lanky body having no hope to overpower the sturdy sheer muscle mass that was Reyes, but making do with what was at his disposal anyway.

He was resilient to a point of idiocy, and Jack couldn’t help but respect a man that was fighting with such tenacity while sporting a spectacular hard-on. Christ… he could even see a wet spot slowly forming.

“He’s good,” he says, forces it out past the lump in his throat. He has his arms crossed so tightly in front of his chest that he can barely breathe. Gabriel’s facial expression is dark. Sour. He suddenly slams the kid down onto the ground and holds him there with the weight of his body.

“No,” he retorts simply – grunts it, because McCree is trying to stem up, ass lifting involuntarily, and Gabriel bares his teeth, presses down with his own hips, large hands around the kid’s wrists. Jack feels heat wash through him. He feels like he shouldn’t be watching this – tries to catch Gabriel’s eye to say good-bye and flee… but Gabriel isn’t looking over to him. He is staring at the unkempt tangle of the kid’s hair that neither of them had managed to shave into an acceptable buzz cut yet.

“He’s more than good, idiot,” he spits out, and moves – spreads his knees until he has the recruit’s long legs between them and (Jack stares, mouth dry, cock feeling ridiculously swollen in his uniform pants) thrusts forward – an unmistakable grind of his hips, hard enough to rock McCree an inch or two across the mats, accompanied by a harsh grunt from between clenched teeth.

“He’s the goddamn best recruit I got.” McCree makes a strange, high whistling sound and stems up further – gets leverage enough to lift the heavy bulk of Gabriel up. Like this, Jack can see the bulge of his cock more prominently – it is pressing against the thin fabric of the elastic black onesie and bobbing ridiculously beneath his body. The kid is not wearing any underwear, he realizes dumbly just now. “…And a fucking disgrace,” Reyes snarls finally, one thick arm sliding underneath McCree’s throat, forcing his head back, choking him.

Jack is rooted to the spot, helpless to watch. They’re grappling still, but McCree’s movements have become aimless and sluggish. His sweaty face is starting to turn beet red from lack of oxygen.

Gabriel is rocking forward, hips curling into him in a rhythm that couldn’t be misconstrued. He’s rutting against McCree like an animal – fucking him into submission, and McCree… lets him.

He doesn’t even try to grab at the meaty arm choking him; just takes the abuse until it looks like he’s going to pass out and Gabriel makes a throaty, gurgling sound of disgust and lets go of him.

“Best goddamn shot,” he growls and lifts up, braces himself with one hand on the mat as he jerks his hips forward, slams against McCree’s ass. The kid makes a soft sound, tilts his head, tries to lift… His eyes are glassy, eager, mouth swollen and wet with spit. Gabriel doesn’t let him go far – his large hand slamming down on the side of McCree’s face, mashing him into the ground, holding his head down while he bucks and fucks against his raised ass.

They’re making a spectacle and nobody is pulling them apart. Jack surely isn’t fucking stepping into the makeshift ring and dragging Gabriel off of his prey.

“Best goddamn shot I’ve ever seen,” he repeats bitingly, white teeth glinting in his face, upper lip curled back in a silent snarl, “And swaggers in here cock first, the stupid, fucking idiot.”

Gabriel is putting one foot on the mat now, shifting his bracing hand onto McCree’s slim hip to lift his ass into the rocking, punishing thrusts. There’s no pretense anymore as to what Gabriel is doing, and Jack shifts from one foot to the other, uncomfortably turned on, sweat beading on his brow.

.o.

McCree is submissive and puppy eager and that makes it almost worse – brings Gabriel’s blood to a boil, because he could have accepted McCree’s stupid grinning face, as he swaggered in and showed off his dick tenting his body suit, swinging side to side, bobbing because he wasn’t wearing a fucking thing beneath.

But this.

This feverishly eager glint in his eyes, his absolute capitulation before his officer, letting him grunt fuck him into the mats, not even whining to get his cock out or his ass in the open to get properly dicked…

He’d been fighting like the devil, yes, but only so he could get close – mash his face into Gabriel’s neck, have his head crushed into his sweaty pits; get close and personal with his commanding officer, cock leaking, making a spectacle out of himself in front of fucking Morrison of all people.

“That’s it?” he snarls, dragging his cock through the cleft of McCree’s covered ass “That’s the finest you wanna show the Strike Commander? Your god damned dick dribbling through your shorts?!”

McCree is fucking whimpering, ass subtly pressing back, trying to feel more of Gabriel’s cock – and it gets his fingertips itching until he relents with a low snarl, grabbing the back of Jesse’s suit and ripping it with ease across the meager swell of the kid’s ass.

Fuck they still needed to get him filled out, but it would do. It would fucking do.

There was commotion around them and he was waiting for somebody to grab him, to pull him off the kid – but nobody was coming. No hands restricted him as he got his own cock out and slapped it meatily against the kid’s exposed crack.

“You a little freak, McCree?” he asks roughly when he leans up and doesn’t hold the kid down any longer, only for McCree to stay put obediently. He’s chewing on his ridiculously long hair and drooling on the mats.

When Gabriel slaps his naked ass experimentally, he makes a ridiculous high-pitched sound; almost whistling through his nose, clenching his ass visibly, then relaxing again.

Gabriel could see people in his peripherals. They were milling but quiet. Watching.

Morrison was a bright blue point in their midst – he’d almost forgotten he was there watching. It fans his ire on anew.

“You like my best recruit, Morrison?”

He feels like he might be going insane. He’d told McCree more than once that he’d be the one sending him around the bend but he never thought it would be like this: rubbing his cock first down then up between the cheeks of Jesse’s ass, rolling his foreskin down in the process until the air of the gym hits the exposed glans – all because McCree was… McCree.

They’re all just watching. Reyes can smell their excitement, the earthy notes of their worked-up bodies. Most of all he smells McCree. Unwashed and sweating, hormones wafting off of him like steam, back contorted into an unnatural bend just to get his ass up.

He isn’t even jerking off, the idiot – his hands still obediently next to his head, clawing at the mat, making soft, breathy, girly sounds as he gets to feel his commander’s cock.

He’d send him to the showers like that: a large tear in the back of his suit, ass out, dripping Reyes’ cum in thick, creamy globs, the front of his suit equally messy.

Jesse would enjoy it, too. The ribbing he’d get. Grin broad and toothy like he was fucking high, and just slowly peel out of his ruined suit.

Reyes really had thought he’d stopped being a fucking punk. Now he knew Jesse McCree would always be one.

“shh, don’t cry. it’ll all be over soon. now keep counting.” with mcreyes (wait do you like mcreyes? if not im sorry and you can ignore this i cant remember)

“Shh, don’t cry. It’ll all be over soon. Now keep counting.”

Jesse squints and bites his lip to stop sobbing – it only throws his aim off. He can barely see through the tears and needs way too long to line the shot up. Commander Reyes is silent behind him – lets him take his time to finally pull the trigger.

Jesse can just about see the target in the distance faintly wobble – no bullseye but at least he hit it – before a new point of white hot pain races down his right arm starting at the swell of his shoulder.

He cries out, cock pulsing heavy and thick in his slacks, arm hanging loose at his side. He is clutching Peacekeeper studiously hard, not wanting to let it fall to the ground like last time the Commander had not been happy about that one.

“Count,” Reyes barks and Jesse sobs out: “Six!”

“Next one. You still good?” An arm, thick as a tree trunk, comes around him, large hand settling in his crotch while the Commander takes a drag of his cigarette right next to his face. Jesse can feel the heat from the ember at the tip and is not sure whether the dribble soaked up by his underwear is piss or pre-cum. He’s excited and nervous enough for both.

Reyes squeezes his cock and chuckles. “Yeah, you’re good. Next.”

Jesse takes a huge, gulping breath and lifts his arm again. There are six little dots on the swell of his shoulder, carefully burned into his flesh for each target he managed to hit. He is a mess, face snotty and wet, but the Commander promised him if he’d manage to get ten this time, he’d blow him in the lockers.

There are only four more targets.

His hand is shaking too much and he can’t see the end of the range. His head is pounding, thinking of the delicious hurt on his shoulder, and the hand on his cock and the cigarette dangling from Reyes’ mouth, ashes precariously long, threatening to drop down onto his neck….

He shoots – and then he fires his shot as his trigger finger spasms, as his whole body spasms, creaming into his shorts in warm, wet, humiliating pulses.

He misses the target, of course, and the fact that he won’t get another brand is almost worse than the fact that Reyes is laughing at him and patting his messy crotch like he would the head of a child.

“Better luck next time, McCree.”

Fam this has been stuck in my head all day and I’m pretty sure you’ll appreciate it: little Blackwatch McCree, thinking he’s hot shit but everyone knows he’s just looking for Gabriel’s approval. Gabe finally gets this little brat under him and is fucking delighted to discover that when he pounds Jesse hard enough he cries and calls him Daddy. Gabe fucks up against his prostate in short little thrusts just to listen to Jesse howl and to tell him he’s not allowed to cum till Daddy says so

“Calm the fuck down, kid. Jesus.”

Gabriel leans forward, big hands sliding beneath McCree’s jittery hips to get a good grip at his ass. It still was a little too lean for his tastes; they still had to fatten the kid up from his life in Deadlock, but they were getting there. At least enough to squeeze and get a good grope in.

“Ridiculous. Did you fuck the ladies like that? Can’t imagine that went over too well…” He watches McCree’s face darken in a flush and chuckles, broad finger inching over, rubbing against the tender little muscle he finds. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Didn’t appreciate your hyperactive ass. That’s fine: I can teach ya. Just like in training, right? Just follow my lead.”

The kid stares at him, eyes big, mouth – that ever talking, ever laughing fucking mouth that Reyes had wanted to slap more times than he liked to admit – finally not making any sound at all. It’s just hanging open a little.

He wonders what part of his statement had finally gotten McCree’s attention. His slim hips are lying heavy and relaxed in Gabriel’s hands and when he pulls him roughly down to lay them on his lap – have better access at everything the kid had to offer – McCree didn’t try to ‘help’ again. Just followed his lead, docile and relaxed.

“Just like in trainin’,” he whispers before Gabriel can wonder if something is wrong and they need to actually talk. “Yeah, yeah. Jus’ like in trainin’. Just follow you, Commander.”

.o.

McCree is loud in bed. It doesn’t surprise Reyes. Annoys him a little, maybe, but doesn’t surprise him. His ear is ringing where McCree has put his mouth next to, clinging to his shoulders, not letting him go again after Reyes made the fatal mistake of leaning down to gently bite at McCree’s shoulder.

He could disentangle himself – but doesn’t.

The base already knows McCree is hot for his cock – it’s not changing anything that they can make sure now that without a doubt, yes, Jesse McCree was a slut for his Commander. To the contrary: it was flattering.

“Like that, do you? Bit of a size queen, McCree?” he purrs, hips flexing, cock dragging in the wet, hot clutch of that sweet little muscle he’d been petting earlier. McCree whines high and pathetic, twists his hips, tries to start up with his nervous little jackrabbit movements and gurgles on a groan when Reyes immediately reaches for him and pins him back down.

He needs to be reminded to stay where he is, every now and then – to let him take care of the actual dicking part.

“Yes, D-Daddy.”

His hips, moving in piston-like, slow, agonizing precision – stutter, slow down, halt.

He lifts his head, straining against the clutching arms of the kid, and peers down at him.

McCree grins back – broad and shit-eating, eyes glassy, dots of nervous color spreading on his cheeks. They stare at each other a beat longer, before Reyes starts grinning; can feel it stretch across his face sharp and shark like.

“Yes?” he rumbles, pushes back in with a twist of his hips, feeling himself rub against warm, giving walls; feels McCree’s weeping, sleek cock bump against the sweaty ridges of his belly. “You’re a freak like that, McCree?”

He pulls out, then snaps back in on a different angle. He watches McCree’s eyes snap open, mouth dropping from its false-bravado nervous grin into an ‘o’ of surprised pleasure.

Gabriel chuckles. Cackles. His belly is on fire and he pushes up onto his hands, getting out of McCree’s lax grip easy; ranges above him and stares down as he keeps fucking into that same, sweet space, watching McCree’s face flush with a whole ‘nother flush, eyes filling with tears, throat working around sounds that are suddenly cut off.

Jesse stares at him, eyes roaming. Reverent. He looks like he’s about to have a stroke, staring at his Commander’s sweaty, heaving body, muscles in stark relief as he fucks – and Reyes thinks he can get used to that. Fucking his newest fan.

“Yes… fuck… Daddy.” McCree has suddenly found his voice back, hands coming up, curling tight around his biceps. He’s hiccuping with every of Gabriel’s thrusts now, cock bouncing, slapping against his belly and the too thick treasure trail he probably groomed into the impossible thatch that it was.

“Daddy. Daddy. Daddy, please!” He’s howling, whining, begging, staring up at Gabriel and scratching up his arms because he keeps loosing purchase on the slick skin as he’s getting fucked.

Gabriel grins at him. Leans down – rasps right in his face: “Good boy.”

“Did that hurt? Want Papi to make you feel better?” McReyes please?

Reyes slowly rounds his pet, the thud of his combat boots heavy and deliberate. Jesse is panting with an open mouth, drooling from the tip of his lolling tongue, body shaking and sweating.

His belly is still clenching every now and then, hard enough to make his back curve up. He hasn’t quite gotten over the instinctual need to curl up and shield himself, yet – but Reyes was quite sure he’ll soon get there. They all did, eventually.

When he crouches down in front of McCree, he can see him try and sneak a little glance up at him through the oily fringe of hair, before he jerks and looks down. A dog that learned his lesson not to aggravate his superior.

Reyes gently clucks with his tongue, big, rough hands cradling McCree’s face, lifting it up.

“Did that hurt? Want Papi to make you feel better?” he croons, thick fingers rubbing across Jesse’s cheekbones.

He can see the panic entering the almost vacant gaze; sluggish brain starting to work overtime as he tries to figure out what that might mean. He’s a quick learner, this new recruit.

McCree shifts, winces, stays carefully still. The humbler is holding his balls tightly in place; keeps them tight and presented for Reyes to play with, like, say, a slap of those very hands lovingly cupping the kid’s face.

For a second McCree looks like he’s going to break apart and start bawling – the simple question obviously too much for his overworked mind. When he finally whispers, “Yes, please, Papi,” his voice is cracking wildly like that of a teen.

Such a tender boy, still. A killer – but a lovable one.

Reyes smirks and gives him another rub of his thumb across his cheek before he leans down and presses a kiss against the corner of Jesse’s mouth.

“Good boy,” he breathes – and McCree vibrates with sudden pride and sick, fervent love, even as Reyes gets back up and rounds him again. He had to admit he was… fond, of the brat. He would be a good fighter. A loyal one.

When he crouches down behind Jesse once more, he realizes the boys cock is bobbing softly; chubbed and half-hard in nervous arousal. Oh… this was going to be good.