I promised 1 fic of an older compilation

And it doesn’t get much older than the very first comp 🙂

Since today is easter, I thought the Oviposition fic might be just what everybody needs today

If you want to check out what other fics are in the compilation, you can find the post on it here with links to my gumroad where you can purchase it.

If you want to tip me, you can find my Ko-Fi here

other than that: please enjoy ❤

Reaper76 – Oviposition – Being A Goold Old Boy

Reaper is shaking his head in refusal, rubbing his forehead into the bedding. His shoulders are bunched tight and shaking, body gearing up for denial that never comes. It only takes Soldier’s large hand at the small of his back, blunt, broad fingertips rubbing into the clammy, sweaty skin, to calm him back down.

“Yes, you will be,” he tells him, gruff voice low, almost gentle for him – yet still very much no–nonsense. He watches how Reaper already struggles, rim pouty and constantly moving as he tries and only barely manages not to bear down on the three smooth ceramic eggs currently nuzzled within his guts. Every time the swollen rim flares open, Jack can see the dark grey bottom of the last egg he fitted into him.

He places his thumb squarely on the opening and pushes gently as the other hand rubs Reaper’s back, trying to soothe away his low, pained grunt. Reaper’s voice has considerably climbed in the last five minutes, sweat breaking out all over his back and sides at Jack’s calm announcement.

“I will give you one more egg. And then you will put on some nice, comfy clothes and go out. I want you to go and get a glass of water and stay where others can see you for four minutes. One for each egg you let me push into your slutty, needy ass.

You don’t need to talk to anybody. You don’t even need to look at them. I just want you to be a good, brave boy.

And when you’re done… then you can come back and we’ll take care of this.”

“No, please,” Reaper rasps. He sounds almost in tears; almost enough to make Jack rethink his demand. Still, as he begs, he angles his body backwards, presses into Jack’s thumb just to feel him jostle the heavy eggs already in his gut; making him feel swollen and bulky to the point where he thought he might not even be able to walk without a waddle. The thought of going out into the open like that makes his toes curl and smoke billow from between the clench of his teeth.

“You love this,” the Soldier tells him gently. He leans down, presses a fleeting kiss to the clenching, lube–wet muscle, and proceeds to wipe his lips against one round, plump ass cheek. He watches Gabriel shake his head in denial, shoulders pulling towards his ears, body trying to become thick, dark smog before he can make himself go corporeal again.

Jack smirks, hand fumbling for the last egg lying on the sheets. Even after all these years Gabriel had not changed. Seems not even death could make him any less of a greedy humiliation slut.

“It’s okay. You don’t need to admit it. You got me for that, right?”

He sits up again, the ball of his hand pressing firmly against the small of Gabriel’s back to prepare him for the new egg. Still, Reaper sounds panicked when he feels the smooth edge of the ceramic kissing up to his hole. He throws his head back with a drawn out grunt, body shaking and sweaty, rim flexing closed in denial, then blooming open greedily for more.

Jack waits patiently until that happens before asserting pressure, slow and consistent, his cock surging at the sight of Reaper’s rim stretching for the intruder.

“Naughty slut,” he murmurs practically absent minded. His free hand slides down, cups the tight swell of Gabriel’s abdomen and massages it lightly, voice pitched low, murmuring soothing nonsense as he makes Gabriel accept the intrusion.

He imagines he can feel it, too – the eggs moving within him, one pressing against his fingers… or maybe it’s just Gabriel’s muscles, iron hard and quivering, his cock hanging in an undecided half–hard state since Jack’s announcement.

He takes long after the last egg. Jack lets him move however he wants, which first is a slow, calculated collapse onto his belly, and then with a soft groan onto his side because he can’t deal with the pressure.

Jack cleans him with a wet rag, wiping the drool and tears of overstimulation from his face even though he is fussy, trying to pull away and growl. It morphs into a groan when it makes the heavy objects in his gut shift.

“Are you ready?” the Soldier murmurs finally, soft wide sweater and pants laid out next to Reaper.

Gabriel tried to ignore them, not even deigning to look, but now he is, hands slowly kneading into the bedding.

“I don’t know about this…” he mumbles, and Jack sighs with a soft, indulgent smile and leans down, hand rubbing across Reaper’s shorn scalp.

“That’s okay. You don’t need to know anything. You just need to do what I tell you, because you’re a little slut and you want me to. Right?”

For a moment, Reaper’s face contorts; he looks unhappy and stubborn, tears filling his dark, beautiful eyes even as his cock starts to get interested once more – and then it smoothes out and becomes practically serene, head turning so he can nuzzle into Jack’s hand.

“Yes…”

“Very good. Then get up and be a good boy. Four minutes. You can do it.”

.o.

Gabriel is shaking by the time Jack slowly guides him into a kneeling position, their grip on each other’s biceps white knuckled and bruising. There is a wet spot slowly, stubbornly spreading on the front of Gabriel’s sweatpants and Jack’s voice sounds rougher, barely even human anymore, when he demands: “Did they see that? Did they see what a nasty little slut you are?”

His eyes are wide, a little wild. He feels crazy and thinks he must look the part. Sound the part. Gabriel groans, knees crashing the last couple centimeters to the floor when his legs give out.

“Who has seen you?” Jack wants to know, voice a little lower, hand rubbing shakily across Gabriel’s shorn head, feeling the rasp of the stubble against his palm. Gabriel doesn’t want to answer – he is preoccupied with shoving weakly at his pants, trying to get them off.

“I need to… please… Jack I need to…” He has trouble speaking and concentrating. There is black smoke wafting in delicate tendrils from the corners of his eyes. His voice is hoarse like Jack has fucked his throat for too long and too rough.

He can remedy that – as Gabriel finally shoves his pants down to his incredible thighs, Jack fishes out his dick. His heart is beating so fast, he feels harried. Under attack.

“Have they seen what a slut you are? Have they seen that you’re a dirty whore that’s debasing himself just to get some dick?”

Gabriel is clutching at Jack’s hips. He is shaking more intensely now, sweat dripping down the sides of his face. He grunts, bearing down, pushing at the clutch of ceramic eggs nestled in his guts.

When the wet head of Jack’s cock smears across his mouth, he opens it just the same, eyes opening, staring up helplessly at the Soldier. Letting himself get used.

Jack nudges his hips forward, drags the sensitive glans across Gabriel’s tongue and listens to the soft thump of an egg hitting the ground – watches the slight strain around Gabriel’s eyes – and thinks that he must be crazy; to stick his cock anywhere near Reaper when he was like this, mindless, straining, grunting, body caught on the sharp edge where it didn’t know whether the sensations bombarding it were good or bad.

But he was so very sweet like this, too; trying so hard to be open and receiving; letting Jack murmur sweet abuse at him and clamoring for more of the same treatment.

“Maybe I should let them in when I’m done with you,” Jack murmurs, belly feeling tight and hot and prickly. He feels Gabriel’s fingers spasm at his hips and his nails getting sharp and dangerous for a second. He plows on, listening to Gabriel strain, imagining his rim – slimy with lube, slowly stretching open farther and farther as he tried to deposit another egg: “Let them in and see you; curled around your little clutch of eggs. Let them have a look at your sloppy, fucked out hole. Let them know just exactly how you need to be handled in the future.”

Gabriel whines long and high through his nose; a weak whistle as he digs his sharp claws into Jack’s hips, pain licking up his spine and only adding to the heat of the moment as Gabriel jerks and shudders, his constricting muscles forcing another egg out while his cock drools thick globs of cum to the ground.

“Yeah that’s it,” the Soldier murmurs, hands holding onto Reaper’s head, fingers rubbing along the greying stubble of his skull. “That’s. It.”

Not beta read at all :)))))) last part of the sub!Gabe/dom!Lúcio storyline :)))) only took me like a year :))))))))))))) (I like the last part tho :3c)

For the beginning: angst tw, past abuse tw, anxiety attack tw

Part 1 (no real fic just rambling)

Part 2 (no real fic just rambling)

Lúcio stares down at the data stick in his hand, turning it around and around between his fingers. His knee is bouncing nervously. The stick had been in his mail a couple days ago, taped to a little piece of paper.

The fruits of my research – Reinhardt

Behind him, Gabriel is lying on the bed, watching his back quietly. The room is dark, and when Lúcio turns to glance at his submissive, the cold light of the computer screen doesn’t quite reach the other man’s face.

He turns back around and stares at the stick some more. Turns it around and around. It has been haunting him since he pulled it out of the mail, wondering what Reinhardt has dug up about Gabriel.

It takes him a while longer before he finally plugs the stick in and watches the videos his old mentor had found for him.

Gabriel is a ghostly presence at his back. He is not making a sound while Lúcio watches, yet he’s never been as aware of his submissive’s presence in a room as in those nauseating hours.

.oOo.

It hasn’t been as difficult to watch the footage as Gabriel had surmised it might be. He doesn’t identify with the man drugged up to incoherence and made to debase himself for cajoling strangers.

He recognizes himself, vaguely, but most of all he is watching the kid’s reactions.

Lúcio’s leg had bounced restlessly through the first ten minutes, shoulders rigid. Slowly, however, the bounce had stopped in favor of some kind of stupor: the kid sitting more quiet than Gabriel has ever seen him, hands folded in his lap, watching video after video.

.oOo.

Gabriel feels himself walking on eggshells around Lúcio even though he doesn’t need to. He didn’t do anything wrong – there is nothing to apologize anymore, not after he’s got his discipline from his dominant a couple weeks ago.

And yet…

Lúcio has been quiet and withdrawn, youthful face edged into tight, hard lines. He looks angry in a way that makes Gabriel want to lie down on his back and show him his belly – offer up his body for stress relief. The need to be the punching bag is as much trained into him as it is his intrinsic need to be good for his dominant, and it makes him antsy all on its own.

Antsy and angry. Like he should have grown out of that mindless, self-destructive response, especially after watching his pathetic displays captured on video for eternity. Like he learned nothing at all and is doomed to make the same mistakes over and over again without any improvement in sight.

He feels like a lemming that is too… too… too stupid to look after itself, and it makes him want to destroy things.

Himself, first and foremost.

.oOo.

It feels like he is watching himself from the outside, sometimes. Like he is not entirely his own person these days.

He can see himself slipping into his tired, old behavioral patterns that he thought he had shucked off years ago, and it makes him feel… hopeless.

He can’t get out of it; can’t get out of the mindset, the stupid, idiotic need that he make his dominant happy again because he feels like he is the reason Lúcio has stopped laughing every single moment of the day and instead became so quiet it makes Gabriel feel like he has to hurt himself in his anxiety.

He wants the old dynamic back. He wants things to be how they had been before he fucked up. He wants a routine that helps him not being so horribly, horribly stupid.

At work, he’s capable. His colleagues look at him for advice more often than not. They respect him to a T. He is independent.

At home he wants to crawl on his knees towards his dominant and hide his face in his lap. He wants to beg for his hands on him again, but first and foremost he wants to cry – and he can’t do any of this because he’s burned all those bridges in the months he’s lived with Lúcio, hasn’t he?

He’s been an ass every turn of the way, hissing and snapping and growling at his dominant, and he feels like he’s now forfeited every right to seeking solace.

Lúcio is so young, still…

Gabriel is breaking patterns, trying to lift Lúcio’s mood. He sits down close to him, trying to offer himself up, make himself available for touch without Lúcio having to coax him into it. He brings home treats after work. He cleans the apartment.

Most of all, he hovers. He tries to anticipate what his dominant might need. He tries to anticipate when his dominant might decide that what he needs is not him anymore.

He sees himself spiraling out of control, ready to humiliate himself – to do anything just to make things go back the way they were – yet can’t make himself stop.

.o.

“Stop.”

Gabriel jerks to a halt at the door of Lúcio’s studio, staring at him in hopeless confusion, big hands hanging uselessly at his sides. He turns them, showing Lúcio their vulnerable palms for some reason. Like he needs to proof that he has no weapons.

Lúcio is standing at his chair, one hand on the back of it. He’s been ready to sit down when he’s noticed Gabriel traipsing after him again like a lost puppy.

Gabriel feels nauseous, his belly clenched into a tight, hard fist. He’s close to retching, anxiety kicking up a storm; only growing the longer his dominant looks at him with a frown on his face.

“Why are you here?”

Gabriel’s head lowers, shoulders pulling up minimally. He can’t look at Lúcio anymore and instead is staring at his feet. He’s at a loss for words. He feels like crying, but…

but he’s no crybaby.

“Dude, you hate sitting in here while I work. Why are you following me in, then?”

Gabriel’s nose starts running, his eyes are so very wet. He bites his lips and tries to remain quiet because if he makes a sound, he will bawl like a little kid in front of his dominant.

He hears Lúcio’s deep sigh. He moves around – he can see his shadow on the hardwood floor, even if he can’t hear his socked feet.

After a while, there’s the sound of Lúcio sitting down in his chair.

“Come here, babe.”

Gabriel glances up and sees a large, green pillow on the floor, shaped like a frog face. His pillow – the one Lúcio always lets him kneel on when he feels like wrestling his stupidly stubborn ass into compliance.

He presses his mouth into a tight line as he feels his lips tremble and stumbles forward, throwing himself onto the pillow, forehead slamming violently against his dominant’s thigh. He’s breathing quick and loud, wet gasps that make him feel humiliated.

His hair is shorn short enough that he is sure his flush of embarrassment is visible even there.

Lúcio’s soft fingers touch the nape of his neck carefully for a second before he seems to think better of it and clasps a firm hand there, thumb scratching along the line of shorn hair.

Gabriel stares at the hardwood floor, everything swimming in front of his wet eyes.

“Why are you so keyed up?” Lúcio murmurs, his other hand joining to rub firm across the shorn head. Lúcio is maybe half of what Gabriel weighs, but he feels as anchored in this moment as he’s sure he could never achieve on his own.

He groans low and pained as muscles start relaxing that have been cramped for weeks now.

“My poor boy. What are you eating yourself up for? Everything is good.”

Gabriel shakes his head minimally simply to do something; to feel the fabric of Lúcio’s bermuda shorts drag against the skin of his forehead.

Lúcio is silent for a while, the motions of his hands rubbing hypnotically across Gabriel’s head, and slowly incorporating the slope of his shoulders, lulling him to an almost sleep.

At last, he leans down, curling over Gabriel and smothering him in the smell of him. The need to cry like a child has abated somewhat, and his nose is free to take in deep gulps.

Just a month ago he would have tried to squirm his way out of a headlock like this and retreated from the room with an ill-tempered grumble. A month ago, however, he also hadn’t known how precious Lúcio’s disregard for personal boundaries was to him until his dominant wasn’t up in his grill at all times anymore.

“I thought you needed time,” Lúcio murmurs next to Gabriel’s ear, his voice sending shivers down his spine. “I know I needed time. It was a lot to take in, dude. But-” he hesitates and leans up a little; uncurls from the small cocoon he created around Gabriel’s head to grab his head and pull it up, staring into his face with a solemn expression. “It doesn’t change anything between us, all right? I don’t give a shit about what you have done earlier. I… understand better now, though, so maybe it was for the best? I dunno. Damn.”

He groans and lets his head fall back into his neck. his hands are steady around Gabriel’s jaw, keeping him in place with gentle force.

“It was hard seeing you like that,” he says, voice scratchy and a bit forced, and Gabriel realizes with a weird feeling in his belly that he sounds close to tears himself, now. “Knowing something and seeing it are just… dude, it’s hard.”

He falls back into silence for a moment, then looks back down at Gabriel, his face and voice back under control, fingertips slipping up and across Gabriel’s face, forcing him to close his eyes so they can ghost across the lids where they stay and make him sit like that.

“I think it’s as good as any reason for a new beginning,” he murmurs, voice sounding so close and intimate even though he hasn’t moved.

The darkness makes Gabriel squirmy in a good way. A little excited. Aroused. His body relaxes, leaning more heavily into Lúcio’s thigh, and the low chuckle his dominant produces makes him feel like a million dollars. His mouth drops open, and he groans low and wrecked.

“Oh would you look at that?” Lúcio mumbles, “Look how good you’re being for me already… my good boy-o.” Usually he hates it when his dominant calls him that, but this time he is close to drooling, already a bit loopy and into his head, drunk on the affection he felt certain he would never have again.

“You’re already giving me so many ideas to play with you, pretty boy. MMhhh yeah. I got some nice ideas for my submissive. So nice and well-behaved for me.

Stay with me, hm? I want you to kneel for me while I work, Gabriel. Let’s leave that other shit behind us and go forward.”

.oOo.

“You look so pretty in my ropes, babe. Are you comfortable?”

Gabriel grits his teeth, bad temper rising fast as he feels his dominant loosely holding the two ends of the thin green rope together beneath his wrists. He hasn’t even knotted it yet.

“I’ve done this before,” Gabriel spits out, shoulders rigid, staring moodily at the ground. “Get on with it.”

Lúcio hums, his smooth fingertips slowly rubbing along the edges of Gabriel’s hands, and then across his palms. It is sometimes startling for him how soft and unused Lúcio is. The kid is working hard, but not with his hands – not like Gabriel is in the garage.

There are no scars, no callouses on his dominant; just a whole lot of quiet, unyielding strength and endless patience.

Gabriel feels weepy, and that makes him even more antsy. He growls again, choked and a little wet and hunches his shoulders forward, balls his fists…

“No,” Lúcio says, soft but firm, fingers immediately leaving their idle petting of Gabriel’s hands. He grabs his submissive’s shoulder and pulls him back into position. “Spine straight. Stand still, Gabriel.”

And then, when Gabriel doesn’t move a muscle: “Good boy.”

Gabriel squeezes his eyes shut, grinds his teeth, and breathes deeply.

.o.

“Ah man,” Lúcio sighs after a while, taking a step back and observing his work. “You look so pretty like this. Such a good boy, holding still and letting me put you in my ropes. Damn.”

There isn’t much rope, just an intricate criss-cross of bright green holding his forearms together behind his back.

Gabriel keeps quiet, head hanging low as he subtly shifts his hands, rotating his wrists to feel how tight Lúcio had made his rope work. A hand beneath his chin startles him, causing him almost to jerk back as his dominant coaxes his head up and holds it with a firm grip on his jaw.

“There. Like this. Don’t hide, now.”

Gabriel bares his teeth, but there is no real heat in it. When Lúcio thumbs with his free hand at one of his nipples, his jaw falls open on a soft, needy pant, cock lifting a little from between his thighs.

“There you go. Love how responsive you are. Such nice, sensitive tits.”

As Gabriel watches, his dominant turns minimally and fishes for a bandana just as bright green as the ropes binding his arms. He slowly pulls it through his fingers as he watches his submissive with a pensive expression.

Gabriel can’t help but straighten up a bit, chin lifting, chest pushing out. His nipple is still tingling where Lúcio touched it. He is hyper aware of the silver barbell, feeling like it is heavier than usual and putting more pressure onto the sensitive tissue. He is preening, he realises with a weird twist to his stomach, and Lúcio’s face relaxes, warm eyes brightening.

“That’s my boy! Damn, but you’re gorgeous.”

He can feel himself slipping down – not physically but mentally, his attention zeroing in on his dominant, hanging onto his every word; and while he wants this; has always wanted exactly this, a part of him rebels at how quickly he goes under for Lúcio.

Still, when his dominant lifts the bandana with a questioning look, he bends down easily, offering himself up.

Lúcio is murmuring low praise, a constant stream of input as the world around him goes dark, yet still it is… scary. Everything feels that much more significant when he can’t anticipate what is going to come. He jerks and flinches when Lúcio touches his shoulder, and the young man shushes him, grips his bicep with a firm, warm hand.

“Easy, now. Look at you taking everything I give you. I’m going to give you your ball now. You’ll remember to let it drop if something is wrong?”

“Yes, Sir.” He whispers the response, feeling a bit meek, rebelliousness cracking away as he is trapped in darkness, arms immobilized. His head swivels towards Lúcio, tracking every little sound he makes. Moments later he feels a soft ball placed into one of his palms. He curls his fingers around it and holds on for dear life.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Are you scared?”

“No.” And then after a second he ads in a pathetic little whine: “A little.”

His dominant steps close, warm breath fanning across his cheek a moment before he feels a kiss pressed against his beard.

“You don’t need to. I’ve got you. And you have your ball if you need me to stop. Do you want your gag now?”

He breathes deeply, head lowering until his forehead is pressed against Lúcio’s shoulder, subtly sniffing at his skin. His scent is so comforting it almost hurts. Lùcio is hugging him loosely, fingers dancing along a few small scars as he waits for Gabriel to get a grip on himself.

Finally, he nods and rightens himself up once more, mouth obediently opening for his gag.

.o.

Gabriel twists as he feels the warm washcloth slip from the dip of his spine that it had travelled along, down into the cleft of his ass. He slowly manipulates his feet wider, lifting up onto their tips to push his ass into the warmth like a cat.

His dominant hums low and pleased, the fingers inside the washcloth pressing insistently against Gabriel’s hole. There is no intent of trying to slip in – just a possessive press that makes electricity zing from the tips of his toes up into the small of his back.

They move, starting little circling motions over the nervous, fluttering clench of the muscle, and Gabriel groans deep and heartfelt into the gag.

“There you go,” Lúcio murmurs, his other hand landing briefly on the back of Gabriel’s neck to squeeze and press him down a bit more firmly for good measure. Gabriel is leaning across a padded bank, feeling utterly contained in himself and his dominant.

There is nothing to distract him; no obligation to try and figure out what his dominant’s facial expression means, or whether what he is doing could be embarrassing. Just him and the warmth of the washcloth, the rough texture wandering down and leaving a mildly cool trail of wetness behind.

It feels good, cupping his heavy sac. Keeping it nice and warm as his dominant moves his fingers, rolling the full testicles in his palm. Next to it, his cock is hard, throbbing dully in need. The metal pierced along the underside pulls vaguely at the silky skin and makes him hyper aware of the foreskin not quite rolled down the fat head yet.

Lúcio hadn’t touched his cock, but he hopes that if he offers himself up enough, he might consider it.

Gabriel can’t even remember the last time he’s been so fixated on his dominant; the last time he wondered how good he had to be to make him touch his body and coax an orgasm out of him instead of wondering how to debase himself in order to make him happy.

“Are you ready, Gabriel?” Lúcio murmurs, voice pitched low; an amused lilt to it that makes Gabriel nod even before he’s parsed the question. Eager and hopeful, hand clenched around the soft little ball to make sure he wouldn’t lose track of it.

The warm washcloth vanishes, then, seconds before a new sensation engulfs his balls just as gentle and loving, with an equally rough texture. His brain has two false starts, body poised, breath stuck in his throat as what he’s had anticipated doesn’t come true: the washcloth is no longer a nice, toe-curling warmth but cold enough to make everything stutter to a halt.

It is not freezing, but it might as well have been after the delicious warmth of before.

Gabriel howls into his gag, back arching, then going round as he hunches his hips down, trying to get away from the cold.

Lúcio chuckles, warm and commiserating as he puts a hand between Gabriel’s shoulder blades, making sure he stays where he is.

“Good boy… Stay still, now. Yeah. You’re gonna love what I’ve planned for you.”

.o.

Gabriel can’t stay still any longer. He is jumping like a rabbit with its hind legs trapped, bucking and winding as his body shivers out false response after false response. His dominant has long since stopped dutifully alternating the warmth from the cold, and instead uses them at whim, never letting his submissive get too caught up in the moment.

His nipples, pressed against the warmed leather he is leaning on, are painfully tight and sending shocks of pleasure down his spine whenever the piercings roll against the surface.

He is drooling into his gag, blindfold wet with tears of overstimulation. He doesn’t know for sure, but he thinks he might have come already, body pulsing out one or two shivery orgasms, tricked into them by his dominant first cuddling him in warmth before gently rubbing him down again.

Gabriel dreads the next touch as much as he needs it, cock fat and heavy, swinging, wet with water and pre-cum, glans exposed to the cool air of the room. He twists awkwardly, half his body turning away as the other half turns into his dominant, little noises escaping him that sound more like squeaks than anything else.

His hand vaguely hurts, fingers so tightly clenched around the ball, panicked that he might lose it without meaning to.

When Lúcio touches him again, hands settling warm and sure on his hips, Gabriel cries out, head thrown back, brain firing and trying to figure out if the touch is warm or cold, stuttering and retrying until he realizes it is neither, not really – Lúcio has put away the washcloths, and instead is rubbing slow circles into his skin with his thumbs.

“Damn, babe.” He sounds choked, voice raspy. Gabriel is hyper aware of him; feels how his cock is pressing into the back of his thigh, and with a little whimper he realizes how he can feel wetness smearing against the trembling muscle: his dominant is naked. “You’re so out of it, Gabriel. Damn… Drooling like a good boy. Are you with me? Can you hear me?”

He nods frantically, rubbing his cheek against the surface of the bench, mindless and needy, dragging it across the mess of sweat and spit there.

One of his dominant’s hands moves, sliding down his ass and his trembling thigh to keep him notified of where it is going before reaching sure and self-assured between his thighs and taking a hold of his swollen cock.

He wants to cry out, but all he can do is whimper pathetically, holding still in his exhaustion.

Lúcio hums and squeezes him gently, then gives him two long, strokes that frizz his mind and make him gurgle. His smooth, firm fingers rolling against the ladder of barbell piercings, moving them gently beneath the thin, tender skin.

“You have such a lovely cock. It’s been so nice and hard for me the entire time. Such an attentive boy, Gabriel. I wonder…”

He trails off, fingers squeezing just beneath the fat, swollen head, thumb rubbing across the crown and blunt fingernail carefully pressing against the slit there.

Gabriel freezes, halts his breath, then goes lax all over like a puppet with its strings cut. His balls feel too full and tender, swollen to double their size. He feels like a prized breeding bull that’s getting inspected, and still he wants to preen for Lúcio.

“You’ve been so well-behaved, babe. You have earned yourself a treat…”

He moves his hips, pressing his weeping cock against Gabriel’s trembling thigh muscle, and his brain jumps to it, making him babble indistinct with the ball gag still in his mouth, frantic and begging, voice broken and whiney as more tears wet the inside of his blindfold.

“Calm,” Lúcio murmurs low even though his own voice is trembling with excitement, hand letting go of Gabriel’s cock to travel back up and touch his hole, warm and loose and so very ready. “You want my dick, babe? Right here? Have you earned my cock, good boy?”

Yes, yes, yes, God yes, please, please, please, please…

He doesn’t know what sounds he’s made, only that he’s crying openly now, sobbing unabashedly as his nose runs and his cheeks get wet. He loses control over his body and couldn’t care less as his dominant presses kisses against the small of his back and shushes him until the first onslaught of need has rolled through him.

“Yeah, you earned it.”

.o.

His dominant is a lot shorter than him and Gabriel would have tripped over himself to get himself to the right height if he hadn’t stood still already.

As is, he hunches down, head lifted and turned, trying to see whether he is being a good boy even though he is wearing a blindfold. Logic has fled him and all vestiges of fear of being made fun of have let go of him. In their stead the overwhelming need to have his dominant’s cock is eating him up and making him eager like a dog.

Lúcio chuckles and rubs his hips, the small of his back, the swell of his bicep. He shifts and moves closer, and then there’s a blunt, delicious pressure against Gabriel’s hole.

Feeling his dominant slide inside him is better than anything he could have thought up in those feverish, needy nights he spent alone at home, fantasizing of being good enough for Lúcio to earn his cock.

It’s slow and perfect, spreading him open until the muscle burns deep and delicious, insides throbbing and clenching down; hugging the intruder and trying desperately to pull him deeper.

His body is in love with Lúcio and there is no way he could have hidden it even if he wanted to.

His dominant laughs softly, voice cracking, sounding elated to the point of hysteria as he rocks his hips, fucking his submissive for the first time.

“Not gonna last long,” he whimpers, leaning forward, pressing his forehead against Gabriel’s bound forearms.

I know he wants to say I know I know I know, but all he does is gurgle, soft and weak, body trembling, cock flexing as he is getting deep dicked gently, intimately, Lúcio barely moving enough to pull even an inch out.

Like he couldn’t bear the thought of not being inside Gabriel’s warm, suckling body to the very hilt. Like he wanted to crawl into his submissive.

Gabriel imagines that he can feel every vein; can feel the ridge of Lúcio’s cock drag against the spongy, wet insides of his gut.

He knows his dominant’s cock intimately; has spent hours lapping at it, keeping it nice and warm, worshipping it; yet feeling it finally spread him open is making his head spin and cock drool, balls fat and swollen.

He wants to come, wants to come, wants to come so bad. He’s sobbing, bawling openly, shaking and sweating as he curls into his dominant and lets him hold him, a little stiff, a little uncoordinated as his hips jerk into him, fucking him uneducated and enthusiastic like the young man he is.

“Feel so good, so good, so good,” Lúcio is mumbling, a little delirious, pressing hot, suckling kisses against whatever patch of skin he can find. “My good boy. My good boy. Not gonna let you go ever again. Gonna keep you nice and safe. Put you in my damn pocket and carry you around.”

There’s white noise filling Gabriel’s head when he comes, thick pulses of come that shake him to the very core of his being, body shaking and uncoordinated but held nice and secure by his dominant’s arms and the ropes he put on him.

He feels so safe and loved.

“You’re so beautiful, all spread out like this, just for me.” McReyes please <3

@zacklover24 said: “

Come sit on my lap pet Mcreyes”

“You’re so beautiful, all spread out like this, just for me,” Jesse purrs. He is sitting in his boss’ chair, and Gabriel can’t take his eyes off of him, even spread out on his desk as he is; big fist around his big, hard cock.

Jesse has gotten big since working in Blackwatch; filled out until the chair looked like it had to be begging for mercy; thighs thick and arms corded with muscle, and dark with hair.

His hands are so very big in their dark leather gloves. Gabriel thinks about how they would feel spanking him, and he can’t help but shiver – doesn’t know whether it is from longing or fear.

He is a little afraid of Jesse’s huge, capable hands, and the sudden knowledge makes his mouth run dry.

“Come sit on my lap, pet,” Jesse murmurs, dark eyes heavy lidded, wide mouth curled in a lazy smirk. He doesn’t comment on how clumsy Gabriel is in his haste to get down from the desk and up into Jesse’s space – he merely spreads his legs wider; creating a nice, broad seat for Gabriel to make himself comfortable in; his hard cock rubbing against the rough fabric of Jesse’s shirt.

His breath hitches when Jesse’s hands land on his ass; large and warm even through the black leather of his gloves. They’re gentle; squeezing and holding on as Jesse hooks his scruffy chin across Gabriel’s shoulder and rubs one hand slowly up his back.

“Sshhh… you looked like a dear caught in the headlights,” he rumbles, other hand affectionately squeezing Gabriel’s ass. “No need to worry one bit. Got something nice planned for ya. Because you’ve been such a good boy.”

Gabriel shudders and leans into him.

Could you write fic of dom lucio/sub Gabe meeting Reins sub Jack? Like Reinhardt figures it’s his turn to show off his lovely sub now I just read your other fic and loved it! 10/10

(This is the rein/jack anon again) would it be possible for you to write Jack as trans? You don’t have to but being a trans man myself I headcanon him as trans as well because he’s a character I relate to alot.

here you are. this is not ‘canon compliant’ with the rest of the series

Gabe was trying to hide his face against the outside of Lúcio’s knee without making it too obvious, and Reinhardt had to quietly smirk into his beard because of it. They were in Lúcio’s home – had consciously chosen to meet here in order to give Gabriel the home advantage and make him feel more at ease – yet the sub looked ill at ease and off kilter even kneeling next to Lúcio’s feet.

His head was half-turned away, dark eyes never leaving the people on the other side of the room. He looked flustered; like he was embarrassed to watch another pair play with each other, but was unwilling to actually stop staring. His big hand was curled around his own Master’s ankle, and Reinhardt could see it periodically clenching down when something especially interesting happened – like Jack sitting up a little straighter on command and pulling off his tight shirt.

Reinhardt had seen the grudging respect in Gabriel’s eyes when he’d introduced his companion – and now he could witness it again, staring at Jack’s abs as they get revealed. He is intent, dark eyes devouring the sub. Reinhardt wonders whether Jack can feel it – he is very sure he can’t see it, at least; the light is too dimmed for the sub’s weak eyes to make anything out that was outside their small radius.

When Jack pulls his shirt off his head, Reinhardt is watching Gabriel’s reaction.

He can see the minute backwards jerk of the sub’s head; how his shoulders tighten and eyebrows faintly furrow as he mulls over what he sees: Jack’s chest as broad and strong as Gabriel’s, with just a little bit more plushness to it. A little bit of softness that gives the pecs that extra amount of tantalizing bounce.

Reinhardt watches him lean a little forward, eyebrows furrowed. He looks curious and confused.

Reinhardt shifts his attention down to the man between his massive thighs and curls a large hand around Jack’s throat. He can feel the motion of his Adam’s apple against his palm as he first swallows, then sighs, eyes fluttering almost closed. He follows the pressure of Reinhardt’s hand easily and lets his head get tilted back until his cranium almost rests against his dominant’s crotch.

“Good boy,” he tells him. He takes care to pitch it loud enough for the other two to hear. “You like showing off, don’t you, my darling? Yes, I know. My pretty boy. Always so eager to get naked for others…”

There’s color starting to rise in Jack’s cheeks. He can feel the first tentative dregs of warmth against his fingers as the sub gets a little more into the action – lets himself get guided by Reinhardt’s voice and the restricting, safe confines of his thighs.

“Why don’t you show them the rest of you?”

Jack pants, the slit of his eyes looking bright and a little watery already. He is intimidated by the other submissive, Reinhardt can tell. Gabriel is a formidable sight – dark and foreboding. He doesn’t look homely or even anything approaching to friendly – not when he’s nervous like now, with another sub encroaching on his home, checking his dominant’s face with little hidden glances to make sure he isn’t unduly invested in Jack.

Well enough that Jack loved a little bit of fear with his plays; liked to feel helpless and exposed and as if he didn’t have control over what happened to him – what was made to him.

He kept his head back, even though it made it more difficult to get out of his pants, seemingly staring up at Reinhardt’s face.

.o.

Gabriel is squirming on his spot, watching the other sub fight to slide off his pants. He almost jerks away when Lúcio suddenly puts his hand against the nape of his neck, twisting and glancing up at his face for a moment to make sure everything was alright – it was – and then peeking back over at the other couple while Lúcio gently dug the blunt nail of his thumb against the base of his skull, then dragged it down towards the first knob of his vertebrae – and up again; a slow, seemingly thoughtless motion that made Gabriel hyperaware of his neck and the tingling at the base of his spine.

He is so invested in the feeling, mouth dropping open a little, head dipping forward, that it actually takes him by surprise when he realizes Jack is almost naked already – jeans down around his knees and in the process of getting kicked to the side.

Gabriel grunts softly, can’t hold the sound of confused surprise back when he sees the space between Jack’s thighs… and then his attention gets pulled away, Lúcio’s hand cupping beneath his jaw, tilting his head up and back not unlike the treatment the other submissive received from Reinhardt; and while Gabriel felt uneasy putting his vulnerable front on display like that, belly stretching long beneath his tight t-shirt, throat bobbing with a nervous swallow, he wouldn’t be outplayed by this other sub.

So he lets himself get dragged backwards, still hearing the other pair – how Reinhardt murmures praise, and accompanies his declaration of ‘And up you go’ with a soft grunt – and ignoring how his curiosity wants to make him look at what the others are doing in favor of earning himself a kiss from his dominant.

Warmth floods his chest and trickles down into his belly as Lúcio kisses him slow and lovely – only letting him sip at the tip of his tongue before he pulls back and smirks down at Gabriel’s flushed face.

“Oh, you’re easy today, are ya?” he whispers, fingers rubbing across Gabriel’s shorn scalp. “Look at you. You’re already starting to go down for me… What a good boy you are, Gabriel.”

Gabriel swears his chest is expanding at the praise, swelling and warm as he watches his dominant’s face and forgets for a second that there even are other people in the room with them. He can feel it himself; how he’s starting to go down fast and hard, and it is a little scary; enough so to make him whine and grimace, hand clenching around Lúcio’s ankle.

Lúcio coos at him, the hand beneath his jaw squeezing once firmly, then guides his head forward again with the other hand at the base of his skull, warm, secure, not giving Gabriel any room to balk as he’s getting made to watch the other pair.

Jack is sitting on Reinhardt’s lap, made to spread his legs on the thick thighs, the softness between his legs glistening and spreading around one of Reinhardt’s lazily petting fingers.

He stares, belly twisting nervously once more, some strange anxiety wanting to twist up into his chest until Lúcio leans down, lips close enough at his ear that he can feel his dominant’s goatee tickling his cheek.

“How about I do the same to you? Give you just the same treatment Jack is getting? Show them that you can be a sweet boy just as much as him…”

Gabriel whines, the need to be on his dominant’s lap suddenly so strong it makes breathing a little difficult. His eyes burn, fingers of one hand twisting into his sweatpants. God does he want to be on Lúcio’s lap; but looking at the other two, he isn’t sure this is a wise decision. Reinhardt is huge; can easily support the big sub on his thighs and still almost dwarf him.

Gabriel, on the other hand… he would look ridiculous on Lúcio’s knees. He wasn’t even sure whether Lúcio could-

“Stop worrying. You’re thinking too much, and I think I should be the one doing the thinking for us now. You’ll just be a sweet little sub and obey. Just as usual.” The hand cupping beneath Gabriel’s jaw moves, rubbing along his throat and coming to lay heavy and warm against Gabriel’s collar bones, mimicking a collar that Gabriel was too skittish to wear. The pressure feels good. Grounding. When Lúcio coaxes again: “Come on up, my good boy.” He follows without a hitch, crawling up onto Lúcio’s legs, his dominant’s lap warm and firm, no sign of Gabriel being too heavy for him.

“There you go. Look at you being so obedient. Following orders without a fuss. You don’t have to ask for a spanking to be able to snuggle on your dom’s lap, you know. We can do this whenever you want, Gabriel.”

His head was spinning, belly feeling hot and tight, limbs tingling. He was leaning forward, bracing himself against Lúcio’s knees and looked helplessly at the other pair; how Jack had curled his arms up around Reinhardt’s neck and was panting open mouthed and red faced as Reinhardt dragged his fingers through the mess between his thighs and then slipped farther back still.

As he watched, Reinhardt curled one hand beneath Jack’s knee, lifting it, making the sub’s abdomen slide forward, curling and showing off everything he had on offer – and how his dominant’s slickened fingertip was rounding the tender little opening of his ass. Jack whined, impressive muscles tensing all over, making Gabriel wonder how often he worked out to get a body like his.

(Making him wonder whether they could be friends outside of… this… outside of their dominants showing them off and playing with their bodies and making them submit to them sweetly and thoroughly until Gabriel would be happy to tell Lúcio left was right and up was down if only he would keep up making him feel good…)

“Oh… would you look at that,” Lúcio murmurs behind him, fingers playing with the hem of Gabriel’s tight shirt. “They’ve had a headstart. We need to follow suit, don’t you think? You gonna be my good boy and help me?”

Gabriel groaned, head falling back for a second and cock thickening eagerly before he started nodding, and helpfully raising his arms for his dominant to drag the shirt off of him…

.o.

Reinhardt feels almost drunk. Jack is so excited, he can smell him – and he wonders whether the other two can as well; whether the thick musk has actually filled the room just as much as he believed, that silky gash slick and hot working overtime as Reinhardt rounded the swollen nub at the top again and again, because he can’t get enough of the sight on the other side of the room.

Gabriel is naked and trembling, and drenched in sweat after the third time of getting made to almost come, muscles standing out sharply. He looks wild; like a mustang. Like he would claw at Lucio if he had to endure even one more faux orgasm; the almost release shivering through his body, his beautiful big cock so hard it almost stands on its own.

The tip is dark and generously wet from Lúcio playing with him, the clever dark eyes of the other dominant watching intently what Reinhardt does to his sub so he could mirror the movement: taking the fluid from the tip of Gabriel’s cock and swirling it round and round the sensitive glans until the sub is sobbing and angry and trying not to trash or slide off of his dominant’s lap, feet already hooked behind Lúcio’s ankles.

Jack seems to be just as much riled from Reinhardt playing with his body as simply listening to the other sub. He had twitched at the first low grunt Lúcio had had to almost rip from Gabriel until the sub started getting a bit more vocal, shyness eroding further with every almost orgasm; but now his head was up and alert, turned towards the sounds on the other side of the room, cheeks dark and eyes closed.

Reinhardt is sure he’d love nothing more than to be put onto the floor so he could crawl over, following his ears, mouth open and wet and ready for Gabriel’s cock… but he is just as sure that the other submissive wasn’t ready for that yet; would need to be coaxed and praised until he’d play with anybody but his dominant.

Jack was more used to the edging; oh, he had hated it at first – had even kicked at Reinhardt once, frustration pouring off of him in hot waves like a fever, belly clenching again and again with the phantom of imminent release. By now it was one of his favorite games. He liked making Reinhardt bear all of his weight, leaning back and riding out the sweet desperation.

He hooks his other hand beneath Jack’s arm, hand easily cupping the small tit, feeling just that bit of fat that Jack would never be able to get rid off without surgery, no matter how hard he trained – not that it was his goal at this point. He seemed content with where he was, and Reinhardt felt almost silly for how proud it made him.

He squeezes the firm pec, and Jack sighs – and just a moment later, there is an answering soft choke on the other side of the room as Lúcio mimicks the action. He looks smug, peeking over Gabriel’s shoulder; like the cat that got the cream.

“Oh you wanna play?” Reinhardt mumbles, low, not designed for Lúcio to hear as he curls his arm around Jack’s chest in preparation and to keep him secure as he rounds the painfully swollen nub one last time – gives it a little tap just to make Jack gurgle and have his hips twitch – then slips even lower, finger slick, rounding that tender opening he had touched earlier but ignored since then.

They know immediately when Lúcio takes up on it: Gabriel whines and jerks, needing an arm around his sturdy hips to keep him put. There is not much to be seen, the sub’s thighs not as desperately spread as Jack’s – which was a combination out of Reinhardt’s sheer size forcing them apart as well as the sub’s need to show himself; get his body offered on a silver platter for everybody to partake in, be it visual or by grabbing and sampling the goods. Gabriel, while being tolerant enough of the happenings, curiosity making him more loose and accepting of his open vulnerability, still seems a bit more shy – not as open to show off his gorgeous body yet, despite his dominant’s low crooning coaxing.

However, Lúcio’s hand between the strong thighs is telling enough; moving slow but with intent; spearing his sub on an innocent finger while Gabriel whines like he’s taking dick already, broad chest heaving and cock bouncing in front of him as it flexes.

None of the subs remain quiet after this. Jack howls like a dog as Reinhardt lovingly stuffs him, and Gabriel looks over with something akin to commiseration; like he can understand feels with the other sub getting made to take Reinhardt’s thick finger on nothing but the slick of his swollen, messy gash – and Reinhardt is not too proud to admit he likes the thought; is even going off on a small daydream of the subs comforting each other; exchanging sweet kisses as they are forced down on their dominant’s cocks…

“Good boy,” Reinhardt rasps, thumb swiping along Jack’s arm as he carefully, slowly works his finger deeper into that silky, clutching hole. Jack loves getting his ass played with; goes positively wild for it – but he isn’t used to getting stuffed on such little preparation, his throat bulging on a suppressed whine as he squirms and tries to get away as Reinhardt needs to keep him nice and fixed.

He can hear Lúcio crooning as well; low, sweet nothings as he works his finger, moving, angling until Gabriel shouts and a thick dribble of pre-cum slides down the side of his cock. His impressive thighs are shaking, tensing and untensing, knees shivering as they first try to close up entirely, then stay, uncertain, when Lúcio murmurs a soft denial… sway open, closed, then suddenly spread wide and lift, the sub trusting his whole weight to his dominant as he opens himself up for the slow, deep fingering and the soft burn of too little lubrication.

They whine in tandem, bodies held carefully still, letting their dominants play with them, fingering deep and intrusive and making their bodies pliant and hot around them.

“Can your boy come without hands?” Reinhardt asks breathless, laughter in his voice. It is bubbling in his throat, he can feel it tickling him, he feels delirious on his sub’s surrender, and when he glances over, Lúcio’s eyes look just as bright and a little crazy as he feels.

“He hasn’t done it yet,” he says, lips twitching into a grin, arm curling tighter around Gabriel’s waist. He almost looks like a kid hugging a big prize teddy. He doesn’t seem like he’ll be letting go of his submissive any time soon. “But he’ll try for me. He’s so primed and ready. Aren’t you?” He turns his head, lips pressing wet against the point of Gabriel’s jaw, mouthing his feverish questions against it. “Aren’t you? Primed for your orgasm? Ripe for it? Yeah… yeah you are… fuck, you’re so gorgeous. Perfect. You want to try for me, don’tcha? Gonna try and come without hands just for me? Like a good boy?”

Gabriel looks gone; his mouth hangs open, soft little breaths puffing from him as he squirms on Lúcio’s lap. He is nodding quick and mindless and Reinhardt wonders whether the boy even understood what was asked of him.

Jack doesn’t seem to fare any better in any case, teeth bared, jaw clenched – he looks almost angry as he fucks down on Reinhardt’s finger, body quaking, abs shivering with the strain…

When they come, they don’t make make a secret out of it. Reinhardt wonders whether the neighbors can hear them whining and shuddering through it, the tendons in their necks standing out harshly as their well earned orgasms take them.

Lúcio is crooning again, arm around Gabriel as the sub looks almost scared of the intensity of his release, coming like this for the first time, big hands scrabbling at his dominant and clutching at his arms, hips jerking, twitching, fucking into nothing as thick ropes of cum splash onto the floor before them – all the while Reinhardt holds Jack through his own orgasm, hand still between his jerking thighs, feeling the tight squeeze of his muscles milking him as the submissive seems to burn up on his lap.

They are kitten soft afterwards; even Gabriel moving slow and easy, limbs shaking as he lets Lúcio coax him onto the bed, the sweat cooling quickly and making him shiver until his dominant curls him up into a blanket.

He doesn’t so much as blink when Reinhardt leads Jack to lie next to him, the subs blinking at each other slow, sleepy, sated – and seemingly so confused, like they couldn’t quite wrap their heads around what happened; how they could be lying still in a bed when their bodies were buzzing and shivering and moving, hopped on euphoria. They look cute, next to each other; each in their little blanket burrito, wrapped tight enough to feel anchored and secure after the intense feeling of release after getting edged for the better part of an hour.

“They need to play with each other,” Reinhardt says slowly, big hand cupping the back of Jack’s head while his eyes stray to Gabriel’s face, then back to his submissive. “I need to see it.”

Lúcio nods solemnly, rubbing his submissive’s cheek and scratching his beard lovingly.