8th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 5th Fill

Jack/Jesse – Erectile Dysfunction; praise; prostate milking – Jack doesn’t always get it up. Jesse does not mind one bit. He loves taking care of him.

They’ve been making out for a while now, and although Jesse is always up for snuggling, perfectly happy to just work his mouth, Jack can feel the urgency radiating off of him slowly… increasing, almost.

The small noises he makes – deep grunts in the back of his throat – become more frequent; his big hand more cheeky as it starts wandering from Jack’s hip to one of his hard thighs, squeezing the big muscle and making sure to dig his thumb against the inseam until Jack automatically spreads his legs a bit, heat surging up into his cheeks.

Jesse makes a sound of appreciation, sliding closer in, twisting until it would be easy to press Jack back down onto the bed. His mouth’s wet, hot slide becomes more insistent, his tongue pushing in deep and possessive until Jack has to push him away by the shoulders just to pant, open mouthed and light-headed, staring into Jesse’s dark, docile eyes.

“That okay?” Jesse murmurs with his deep, smooth voice, his hand squeezing again, and while Jack nods slowly, one hand fisted in Jesse’s wild tangles, it begins moving up and in, unselfconsciously cupping the old soldier’s crotch.

The second of hesitation following is enough to have Jack lower his gaze in humiliated shame. He hadn’t even realized… he’d been so into Jesse’s youthful, greedy advances, he had thought…

“Not today?” Jesse mumbles, already dipping forward again, leaving wet, sucking kisses at the corner of Jack’s mouth, the soldier’s lips suddenly pressed into a tight line.

“Apparently not,” he hisses, humiliation burning hot in his veins. Jesse has never ridiculed him about the… failings of his old body, but he can’t help but feel helpless and inferior in face of Jesse’s blatant, vital youth.

Jesse hums, his ever-moving mouth sliding over towards one of Jack’s ears, sharp teeth biting just this side of not-painful into his lobe.

“No problem. Let me take care of you.”

His big, warm hand is still on Jack’s crotch; still cradling his useless fucking dick, and Jack clenches his eyes shut tight and tries to will himself to react to the gentle squeeze, or the slow back-and-forth of Jesse’s thumb idly petting him.

Alas, his cock remains soft while his balls feel warm and… and full, making him almost squirm.

“Jack…”

“Yes,” he pants, eyes kept tightly, stubbornly shut so he didn’t have to look at Jesse’s pretty, youthful face; the rich brown of his hair. “Yes. Okay.”

It’s easier that way.

.o.

His eyes are still closed when he’s ass-up on the bed. He can’t look. He can’t risk staring down his body and seeing his cock swing soft and embarrassing between his strong thighs.

Everything on his body is strong, trained to perfection, obeying every command… then why not his-

His mouth falls open on a wet, needy pant as Jesse slides into him with two slick fingers. Where the first had been just a *sensation* of pressure and intrusion, the second one is giving him a much more gratifying experience.

A nice stretch. Fullness. He slides his knees farther apart and arches his spine. Lifts his ass up into Jesse’s ministrations. He can feel his flush crawl down his shoulder blades, blatant for the other man to see. He is… lewd showing himself off like that. Letting Jesse peruse his old body.

He should be ashamed but it is hard when Jesse’s big warm hand is dragging along his spine, rubbing against the small of his back where those stinging aches like to crop up every now and then. It is difficult to think of much when one is getting pampered and has the unrelenting metal fingers of Jesse’s prosthetic spreading him open, the tips digging almost bruising into his prostate.

Making him squirm, belly moving quick with his panting breaths.

His cock – his *useless goddamn cock* – feels warm and prickly, the sensation spreading throughout his abdomen, but he knows better than to look. It will still just… just hang there, soft and pathetic. Tonight is not a night for him to get it up.

Jesse does not mind. He is humming low and tuneless, whistling through his teeth every now and then. His own cock; big and beautiful and virile is probably hanging between his thighs without getting touched.

What a shame. What an utter waste.

Jack wants to at least play with one cock if he can’t do so with two, but he’s frozen to the spot. Can feel his cum getting massaged out of him, and he groans long and deep and rough when he feels himself coming in a slow, unsatisfying roll of pressure.

Behind him, Jesse suddenly croons. “That’s it… yeah… god, you look so hot like this…”

He can’t help but take a peek, then; past his firm pectorals with the grey dusting of hair and straight at his cock, looking ridiculous swinging there, with cum dripping slowly from the tip.

Jack squirms, uncomfortable, wanting to get away from the sight and the unrelenting pressure that forces the unsatisfactory orgasm from him, but Jesse’s hand is there, rubbing, soothing, holding him in place as his metal fingers drag against his prostate and make him see stars.

“Stay right there. Let me see how much you’ve stored up, Jack.”

Jack can’t wrap his head around the thought that Jesse actually *likes* this. Milking the cum from Jack’s useless cock. He gets off on mounting him after wringing every little bit from him. Fucking him deep until he sees stars, dry anal orgasms making him grit his teeth and feel like he has to… he just has to… he never knows what. He just knows that there is an unbelievable pressure that is almost frightening in its intensity.

He might be making sounds when he’s like that; pathetic whines that Jesse shushes while he keeps him pressed down, fucking him slow and leisurely.

Jesse likes taking care of his partners. Jack almost hates how grateful he is for it.

That’s it, keep cumming – mchanzo pls?

“Thaaat’s it,” McCree croons, eyes alight on Hanzo’s face. It is twisted, eyes clenched shut, teeth bared; glinting with sweat as he shudders, the impressive muscles of his belly clenching again and again. “Keep coming, babydoll.”

Hanzo’s hands are at his head, fingers curled into his palms. That he hasn’t tried to reach for Jesse yet – tried wrenching his hand away from his cock or push his fingers out from his ass – speaks volumes about the insane self-discipline of his submissive.

He can’t believe how much Hanzo is coming; how his cock hasn’t stopped lazily drooling cum for almost a minute now – the wet dick flexing in McCree’s loose grip as his fingers press against Hanzo’s prostate with unrelenting but gentle pressure, minutely rubbing to stimulate him.

There are tears at the corners of his eyes, and as Jesse watches, one tear rolls down his his temple, vanishing in his greying hair. He looks like he is being tortured; the pool of cum on his stomach widening and slipping in sticky drops down the sides of his shivering belly.

“Good boy. That’s it. Damn, babydoll… you were being so good for me, were you? Not touching your pretty cock for days, just like I said… look how much you can come for me.”

Hanzo’s jaw unclenches for just a moment; long enough to let him sob, his head throwing back, throat stretched and bulging, flushing a dark red as he keeps coming on Jesse’s finger, his body shaking and hips jerking in small thrusts up and back; jittery as if he were being electrocuted – more tears slipping from his eyes.

“Just a little longer,” Jesse croaks, boyishly fascinated by Hanzo’s absolute submission. “Just a tiny bit longer.”

Reinheart cuddling Reaper through a bad pain day idc how or why just give that dead boi some tender lovin’

“I can’t. I can’t I can’t I can’t!”

Reaper throws his head back, jaw clenched so tight Reinhardt can hear the impressive sharp teeth gnashing and grinding. He is vibrating in his arms, between his thighs, but not in a good way. The lovely fat cock in Reinhardt’s fist quickly lost interest as the pain roiled visibly beneath Reaper’s skin, making it ripple and twist.

Reinhardt could hear the faint pop of bones and pulled in a deep, rattling breath.

“Okay. Okay. Yes, okay.” He rubs his cheek against the side of Reaper’s face, large hand still holding on to the softening cock, thumb soothingly rubbing down the plump length and up to the tip, playing with the loose foreskin while Reaper writhes and growls and rips sharp, shadowy claws into the mattress.

“I know it hurts,” Reinhardt murmurs – and then blinks as pain blooms out from his cheekbone where Reaper headbutted him as best as he could, his eyes glimming hateful like hot coal.

“You know shit, old man,” he snarls. Reinhardt ignores the animosity and starts rubbing a wide, warm palm across the shivering plane of Reaper’s belly.

“I have another idea,” he tells him easily. Reaper starts squirming and making noise about not wanting to try this anymore and just crawling into the shower to die, but he doesn’t move out of Reinhardt’s embrace, so he figures it’s okay to reach over and get more lube from the bottle; make everything silky and slick for what he has in mind.

.o.

It seems to work better.

Reaper is not fully hard, his cock lying heavy and chubby in the crease of his thigh – but he doesn’t need it for this anyway. His legs are hooked over Reinhardt’s knees, body convulsing – sometimes in pain, more times in nervous, shuddery lust – as he gets fingered slow and intimate, the thick finger rubbing lovingly against his silky, clenching walls.

The first time Reinhardt flirts with his prostate, the blunt large fingertip carefully circling it without touching, he cries out and becomes perfectly still, even forgetting to breathe as he tries to figure out whether the sensation was actually good – could break through the dull, persistent pain of his body working itself over.

He is sweating now, slick and cold against Reinhardt’s skin, his hole clenched tight and suckling around the finger, trying to pull him farther in when all Reinhardt wants to do is make love to his plump prostate and listen to his low, hoarse groans as his body gets forced to accept the pleasure.

“Yes… that’s it,” Reinhardt hums, low, large body curled around him to better reach when he starts struggling and fussing, his cock chubby and juicy as the tip starts getting wet. It is just about peeking out of the foreskin, and Reinhardt curls fingers around the half-hard shaft to rearrange it so he can watch better and let it drool sticky into Reaper’s pubes.

“It’ll be over soon. You’re doing so well,” he tells him in a rumble, fingertip now nudging directly against the sweet, needy spot. “It’ll be better in a moment. Just a moment… That’s it.”

Reaper growls and gnashes his teeth, but it almost sounds petulant at that point; like he is embarrassed as his hips start curving, fucking his half-hard plump dick into nothing at all, the need to deep dick someone or something growing the more Reinhardt presses and teases and makes him stay between his thighs to get worked over slow and patient until he’ll finally let himself come and enjoy the waves of warm euphoria that would let his body rest.