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.”

“you’re such a good boy” reinhardt/reaper please? <3

“You’re such a good boy.”

Reinhardt has to strain to nuzzle at Reaper’s cheek, big hand tightening around his thigh, keeping him close as he rocks into him from behind.

Reaper doesn’t have too much leverage lying on his side, but he still tries his best to get away when he hears Reinhardt cooing at him, the tips of his ears burning and his clawed fingers digging holes into the comforter.

“Shut up,” he growls. Reinhardt chuckles like it is the sweetest thing and rubs his bearded chin along Reaper’s shoulders. He gently nudges forward, pushing in deeper in a slow, unrelenting press that has Reaper groaning and wheezing, breath seemingly punched out by the mind boggling stretch of Reinhardt’s cock.

“Pretty little cocksleeve.”

Reinhardt glances down, watching the soft girth of reaper’s cock against his thigh; drooling out cum and making a mess out of everything; getting milked by the sheer pressure of Reinhardt’s massive cock pressing against his prostate and not moving more than a couple inches with the man’s almost lazy rocking.

“Letting me milk you like a good boy… You love it when I deny you your orgasms, don’t you?”

He kisses Reaper’s hot ear, eyes fluttering closed when that warm little hole clenches down tightly around him.

“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.

Reapyatta 😀 soft dom!Zenyatta with needy sub!Reaper. Here you go, ya’ll ❤


Zenyatta slides fingers through Gabriel’s curls, careful not to let the interlocking joints catch on the stubbornly clinging hair. He fluffs them up, then smooths them down, carefully combing them until they lie the way he wants them to.

Only when he is satisfied does he put his fingers beneath Gabriel’s chin, thumb lying heavy in the small groove beneath his bottom lip, dragging in a small caress over the graying hair of his beard.

“Up,” he murmurs, voice well modulated – built to please. Gabriel follows the gentle push a little too eagerly – the next second Zenyatta’s fingers pinch his chin more firmly and drag him down again. The omnic watches him quietly, not moving while Reaper’s dark eyes jerk across his faceplate, watching for some reaction even though he knows there can’t be one, and finally coming to a halt on the grid pattern on Zenyatta’s forehead – watching the slow dimming and brightening of the light there with an almost myopic gaze.

After a while, when the omnic has decided the height is a good one, Zenyatta’s other hand curls around one of his orbs, lying dormant and heavy in a circle around him.

He places it carefully atop Gabriel’s head, fingers letting loose of it slowly, making sure it would not roll from its nest of curls.

“Still, now,” he says softly, barely an admonishment, and for a moment it seems like Reaper even stops breathing, head up nice and high, carefully balancing Zenyatta’s intricately carved orb. Zenyatta can see the human’s ribs moving – little, soft pants expanding the broad chest as he tries to keep still enough not to shift the heavy trinket.

“Calm yourself. You will make it tumble down if you don’t center yourself.” Zenyatta’s thumb moves, pushing against Reaper’s scarred mouth until he opens it slightly, tongue cheekily flicking out to lick –

Zenyatta’s hand rushes out to catch the orb before it can roll from Gabriel’s head completely. The omnic’s voice box manufactures a soft, reprimanding click of a tongue he doesn’t possess, then pushes his thumb into Gabriel’s mouth to press down heavy and unmoving against his soft, warm tongue while simultaneously rearranging the orb once more.

“If you want to come,” he tells him patiently, as he fucks his thumb slowly between the submissive’s lips, the pad rubbing slow, smooth circles into Gabriel’s tongue to let him taste the metal, “then you need to do as you are told and not lose the orbs. Do you understand?”

He has recentered the heavy ball, arm slowly drawing away. Gabriel watches him with his dark eyes, a look of adoration on his slowly slackening face. He almost doesn’t dare to swallow, tongue lying placid for the omnic to play with.

Zenyatta hums and carefully pulls his hand away.

“Very well. The next one.”

He shifts, moving easily around the submissive. He looks like a show dog – on all fours, head up high and still, the impressive width of his chest sloping quickly into the plane of his hard belly. Time has forgotten this particular man – he still looks as formidable as he has in those old pictures Zenyatta has observed littered around the Gibraltar base.

“You are magnificent,” he tells him, voice an intimate murmur even though they were alone. He can see the way Gabriel’s ribs extend in a deep, careful inhale, but it is the only concession the submissive makes to how much the praise affects him.

That – and that lovely cock of his; dark and thick between his strong thighs, filling out a little more as Zenyatta watches, the wide head peeking out of the soft folds of his foreskin. Already, the omnic’s sensors can make out the glistening of pre-cum wetting all that velvety skin. Humans were so delightfully… messy. Their bodies so generous in showing their appreciation.

“Good boy.” He lets warm, smooth metal fingertips rub against the first knob of Gabriel’s spine, then slides them with gentle pressure along the dip of his spine. The man shudders, a strange choked-off noise coming from him – and for just a moment it seems like he might jerk his head and unseat the orb in its nest of curls, but he calms down just in time to relax again.

He deters a second when he’s at the submissive’s tailbone, fingers sliding into the cleft of his ass and tickling the warm, silky hole he finds there. Gabriel groans, then; voice deep and smoky, eyes probably unfocused as he stares ahead of himself and tries to remain calm, even when Zenyatta’s warm, smooth fingers start rubbing with more intent, the blunt tip of one beginning to wriggle its way inside.

“M-Master,” he says, indistinct, barely dares to move his jaw. Zenyatta hums, tranquil. Serene. He lets Gabriel’s muscles move for him: he doesn’t resist their suckling, needy pull, letting them drag his finger deeper in until the sweet muscle is mouthing at the first bulkier joint of his finger.

“I know,” Zenyatta answers low, synthetic voice full with feeling. “You need it, pretty boy. I know. Your body talks so loud for you.”

Reaper whines, throat vibrating with the sound, face crumbling as Zenyatta watches. He is biting his bottom lip, eyes starting to crunch shut. He’s nearly weeping just from the overwhelming need of getting filled.

“I won’t leave you empty,” the omnic promises, free hand rubbing along the sickly ashbrown of his back. “I will fill you up until you can’t take more. And then a little bit more still.”

Gabriel whines again, a little higher, fingers curling against the floor into unsteady fists. Zenyatta pushes in deeper, curls his finger – just gives him a little taste of pleasure to keep him at bay before out completely.

He ignores the soft sigh of disappointment, critically checks over the orb resting on Gabriel’s head, then takes another one and places it carefully high between the submissive’s shoulder blades.

Gabriel has less problems balancing this one, but it still ads more pressure on him: a little less freedom of movement, no careful rolling of the shoulders anymore, no nervous shifting.

“You are perfect. Just one more.”

Zenyatta grips His shoulder, then his bicep, squeezing and caressing in lieu of not being able to properly kiss – even his omnic kisses, small pulses of weak electricity, don’t seem appropriate now; not when Gabriel was struggling as it is, strangely keyed up from some discord within his soul.

He was so burdened, his poor boy. So many demons weighing him down that he wouldn’t even be able to tell what exactly was filling him with anxiety.

Zenyatta’s hand slides down, smooths across the plush cushion of his pec, mildly warns “Keep your head high”, then proceeds to tweak one of the small, sensitive nipples. Gabriel groans long and deep. His cock fills out a little more still, the veins at the sides starting to bulge as it bobs softly all on its own. Always so eager, sweetly asking for attention.

“Just one more. Good boy.”

Zenyatta squeezes the small nub once more between his fingers, the pressure carefully calculated by his systems, then pulls his hand away to grab the last orb.

“And up. Nice and slow… that’s it.” His voice is low, intimate, watching as Gabriel carefully, slowly arches his back, struggling to keep his head still and his shoulders even. There was sweat starting to break out along his hairline. His toes curled in and relaxed again, restless, nervous. He wanted to be good – didn’t want to lose any of the orbs already placed on him.

His hips are forming a sweet cup, ass angling towards the ceiling. He is presenting himself like a well trained pet, legs carefully spreading on instinct: he was showing off what he had to the room; offering his Master everything from the soft, heavy mound of his testicles to the tender gape of his hole.

“What a good boy you are tonight. You really want it badly, don’t you? A nice cock spreading you open? Get your belly warmed up? I know how horribly cold you always feel… I think I have just the thing for you, if you can stay still for me tonight. Just five minutes, I think. They will suffice, wouldn’t you say? Five minutes to show what a good, obedient boy you are, and then I’ll give you your treat.”

He rubs the back of Gabriel’s thigh, slides up and between them and cups the warm swell of his testicles. His cock is just about visible, silky head shoved out farther now, a pearl of liquid beading for a second before starting to drip down in a long, sticky string.

“Do you want to know what treat I have planned for you?”

He lets him feel the ball as he waits for an answer; slowly rolls it up and down the small of his back just to let him feel the electrical warmth of it radiating as omnic energy from deep within the intricately carved mechanism.

Zenyatta’s voice is still gentle; smooth and deep, well modulated as he promises Gabriel what was the world for this particular submissive: A nice, deep dicking, warm long cocks sliding in, making him submit, getting him to drool into the floor as he got mounted and fucked until his toes were tingling and his eyes burning.

“I will take you out into town,” Zenyatta tells him, speaking gentle like consoling a child. Gabriel’s eyes are heavy lidded and rolled to the side, trying to look at as much of his Dominant as possible without turning his head, mouth slowly falling open as he pushes carefully into the warm touch of the orb, heavy cock swaying back and forth between his thighs with the movement.

“I will take you into town,” the omnic repeats like a secret, “and lead you into a vehicle there. A nice, large car with enough room in the back for you to invite a lot of friends. All of them crawling in to the sight of you offering yourself up just as sweetly as you are now. Let them see how ready you are; how much you want it.

Some may want to test out your pretty mouth beforehand, but you will not mind. You’ll open for them just as sweetly as you always open for me. That clever little tongue doing just as they need; finding out just how you can be of service to them until they want to slip behind you; sample what else you have on offer. Maybe grab your lovely cock and give you a few strokes, though…”

He pauses here, deliberate, watches how Gabriel’s eyes have all but closed. He is drooling like an eager dog and Zenyatta supposed that in this moment, he was little more than an animal; a needy animal waiting for its Master’s praise.

“A little farther up,” he murmurs, tapping the orb against the small of Gabriel’s back as emphasize. The submissive takes a few seconds until he understands, then tilts a little further up still. For a second the orb on the crown of his head seems to wobble but then it settles again.

Zenyatta hums, then starts to carefully balances the last orb on Reaper’s tail bone, leaning it against the cleft of his ass to give it a place to rest. As he works, he takes up his earlier monologue, voice pitched a little deeper, aimed to go straight under the skin.

“I don’t think they will care much for your pleasure, though. They will be wondering when they see me in the corner. They will wonder what kind of little slut lets himself get whored out by an omnic.” Gabriel whines at the crude words spoken in the gentle words of his Master, and Zenyatta can see how the thin string of pre-cum thickens with the submissive’s mindless excitement.

“They’ll wonder how greedy for cock you’ll have to be to sink so low. Be the slave to a machine just to get a good, regular filling. Get your belly warmed up from the inside by their creamy loads until it all frothes around their cocks as they ream you nice and good.

They will wonder. And I don’t think they’ll wonder quietly, do you? I think they will be asking you. I think they’ll tell you in perfectly clear words what they think of you while they utilize your lovely body.

Maybe they will find the markers I will have placed carefully to the side; maybe they’ll have some creative little words and pictures to decorate you with.

Ahhh… I think… yes…”

He carefully pulls his hand away, watching the orb sit calm and centered where he placed it. Gabriel is stock still, eyes no longer closed. They are open wide, staring without focus ahead as he breathes slow, almost serene; a peculiar kind of peace having settled over him as he keeps nice and still, balancing his Master’s orbs along his body, letting the electric, pulsing warmth and their heaviness sink into him and center him as the gentle voice washes over and through him.

His cock is dark and needy, flexing between his strong thighs. Nobody has touched it, but the wetness is smeared all around the flared head. A pinpoint of painful need right there between his submissive’s lovely legs.

“You would love this, wouldn’t you?” Zenyatta asks kindly, one blunt finger sliding up and down the swollen shaft. Gabriel’s eyes grow heavy lidded again.

“Yes.”

“And you shall have it,” Zenyatta promises, ergonomically shaped hand gently curling around his submissive’s cock, holding it and squeezing it gently as if milking more pre-cum from it. “After you have completed your task.”

He carefully watches the orbs, makes sure they sit still and centered before he announces: “The five minutes begin now.”

Goddamn this live-write took so long but now it’s done. Some sexy threesome with angst and plot at the end. mmmhhh ❤ ❤ dom!lucio/sub!Gabe


Lúcio’s hand slowly strokes across Gabriel’s skull, feeling the spring of the curls on top. He threads his fingers through and tugs, watching the muscles in Gabriel’s neck loosen, his head tilting back minutely.

“You sure you want this?” he asks somewhat reluctant, right hand idly playing with the electric razor. He likes Gabriel’s curls, they make for a good kind of distraction when he needs to move his fingers, but Gabriel has been a good boy recently and it had been his only request yet.

“Do it,” he grunts, finger tapping against his naked thigh, then adds as an afterthought: “Please.”

Lúcio sighs and strokes across his hair one last time before setting to work.

In and of itself, it was… nice. Gabriel was relaxed, sitting naked in the open kitchen, eyes nearly closed in lazy contentment as the electric razor starts to slowly buzz along the shape of his head. In Lúcio’s opinion he looks like a big cat. He kind of wants to put the razor down and cuddle with Gabriel – crawl onto his sub’s lap and bask in this rare gentle mood of his… and maybe reach down between those thick thighs and take his cock in hand; big and heavy and warm even soft as it is now.

He lets his thoughts drift; thinking about how subtly Gabriel had already changed since their first meeting in the club; how his submission was, if not given easily, then at least not accompanied with the near constant surge of self-loathing that seemed to have clung to him for the longest time.

“Keep still, pet,” he murmurs when Gabriel starts sliding down the chair and smirks when the man immediately sits back up, a little more alert, head tilting to try and peek behind at his Master. Lúcio clicks his tongue and taps his shoulder to get him back on track.

It doesn’t take long at all to finish his task. Gabriel is fidgeting minutely, trying and failing not to be annoyed by the shorn hair littering his naked chest and tickling down his back. He does try to stay still, though – just like asked.

“Good boy,” Lúcio purrs, putting the razor away, eyes fixed on the back of his sub’s head. Without the mop of curls on top, Gabriel looks shockingly vulnerable. Lúcio felt like he could get used to this. Gabriel soft and sweet for him…

His hand rubs across the new buzz cut, humming at the nice feeling of the short hair scraping along his palm. Gabriel turns his head into the touch seemingly mindlessly. When Lúcio leans across his shoulder to peer into his face, Gabriel looks already half-way down; mouth soft and open, lips wet, eyes glassy…

“You liked that, pet?” Lúcio asks softly. He slips to the front, squatting down, hands on Gabriel’s knees. Gabriel blinks slowly like it is an effort to do so, then slides his gaze away somewhat stubbornly. He shrugs his shoulders.

Lúcio is not deterred, hands rubbing warm along Gabriel’s calves, feeling the coarse hair on his shins. “You like it when I take care of you, don’t you? You always become such a sweet boy when I take my time to make you pretty for me…”

Gabriel’s mouth falls open, pupils blowing wide. They eat up the lovely brown of his iris; Lúcio would need to lean in close now to see any color at all. The moment of cautious bliss is somewhat dampened by Gabriel’s quick turn-around; eyebrows drawing together, broad shoulders twitching like he wants to pull them up to his ears.

“Why do you want to make me pretty?”

Lúcio is sure he wants to spit out the last word, though it actually comes out a little breathy. Insecure. Lúcio hums, weighing his options.

Truth be told, he couldn’t say he hadn’t thought about how plain difficult life was with this particular man; how much easier it would’ve been with a person with less baggage; someone that played with him just out of the sheer joy of getting to submit – someone who didn’t fight him every step of the way while insulting him just for good measure.

He also thought that Gabriel’s submission, as hard won as it was, was the sweetest of it all – if he managed to coax it out of him, that was.

“Because I like it. You’re my pretty boy.” He leans up now, bracing himself on Gabriel’s thighs and pressing a kiss against his lips. He can feel his goatee tickling against Gabriel’s beard. Acting on a gut feeling – as he was always quick to do – he adds: “And I’d really like to show you off sometime. Show others what a pretty pet I’ve gotten myself.”

His hands curl around Gabriel’s thick wrist, pulling him up into a standing position. The man is quiet and pliant, face blank as Lúcio’s words don’t seem to have registered yet. He can pinpoint the exact moment when they do: Gabriel suddenly halts on the way to the bathroom, a strangely strangled grunt escaping his throat.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said.” He is careful not to look back. He can picture the look on Gabriel’s face – trying so very hard to be impassive and simultaneously giving away everything. He knows he would backpaddle immediately; assure Gabriel that it had been nothing but empty talk on his part – when in reality he has been thinking about it for quite a while now.

Fantasizing of taking Gabriel with him to one of the clubs and put him on a stage there; all that lovely brown skin on display – showing everybody the gorgeous muscles and how out of it Gabriel could become if just handled right. (How very sensual he was when deep down in his head space; smiling a little and turning dream-like and needy into his dom’s hands…)

He pulls again and Gabriel, thankfully, follows. As they walk, Lúcio starts talking again, keeping his voice light and casual; like he hasn’t been rolling this thing around his head for weeks now, wondering how best to broach the subject (and not dreaming that it would simply slip out like this).

“I would really enjoy showing you off. Stripping you for someone to look at. Play with your body. Let them see what a gorgeous sub I have.”

Gabriel’s breathing is deep and loud behind him. His hand, when Lúcio’s grip slips down to curl around his fingers as they approach the shower, is clammy with sweat.

“I’ve already thought of someone… an… old friend of mine. He’s somewhat of a mentor? Like – he showed me the ropes of how to… uh… do this. Y’know.”

He gestures weakly at nothing in particular, getting frustrated at his own cowardice. When he finally turns around, Gabriel is just staring, eyes large, scarred face drawn tight. He looks downright afraid and Lúcio feels like a heel. He throws him a grin and squeezes his fingers, ushering him into the shower. “Actually… just forget about it, alright? It’s okay. I figured you wouldn’t like it and that’s absolutely okay. Don’t worry about it.”

He grimaces at his own ineptitude. Gabriel says nothing. He steps into the shower, the muscles in his back tense, nothing to be seen of the earlier lassitude from getting his head shorn.

Lúcio sighs and sits down on the closed toilet lid, watching as the other man soaps himself up. When Gabriel suddenly speaks, Lúcio nearly jumps.

“You don’t want to… give me around. Or something.”

His brain needs a moment or two to get over the thought of giving Gabriel around like some kind of party favor – have other people play with his body and put him through his paces… He likes the thought, if he is being honest, but…

“No. Just one person; and he’d not touch you if you don’t want him to.”

Gabriel is quiet a little more but he at least turns around now. Lúcio can’t say for sure but he has the feeling his sub is watching him from beneath wet eyelashes – assessing him in that scarily scrutinizing way he had.

“Just one person?” he ventures at last, hands starting to slow from their rigorous scrubbing of his chest into an almost thoughtful, sensual slide down his muscled belly. Lúcio watches their descent and how they slide into the thick patch of pubes in his groin.

His mouth gets dry as he realizes Gabriel is on his best way to getting hard. God, but he had a gorgeous submissive.

“Just one, babe. I’d be very proud to show you off to him. Let him see how well I’ve trained you already.”

Lúcio feels like he can almost see the flush in Gabriel’s cheeks. He looks almost reluctantly pleased. By now, Lúcio can see the metal glinting on the underside of his cock, and his fingers tingle with the need to play with that lovely dick – maybe get out one of Gabriel’s toys and edge him for a while…

“I’ll… think about it.”

Lúcio blinks rapidly and lifts his gaze, staring at Gabriel as his chest seems to fill with a balloon of fierce, acute affection for this difficult man.

“You got it, babe. And now c’mere so I can dry you off and play with you until you cry for me, hm?”

.oOo.

Lúcio would have loved to have a camera just to take a picture of Gabriel’s face the first time he laid eyes on Reinhardt. He could see the petulant sneer melting off of the man’s face to be replaced by confusion and then something almost… shy.

Lúcio was fascinated.

It wasn’t like Gabriel suddenly went belly-up for them, but his usual taciturn, ill-tempered barbs didn’t have any sting to them. It was like his head wasn’t in the game, eyes strangely soft and vulnerable, sliding towards Reinhardt again and again. Like he couldn’t fathom the sheer mass of the man.

If Lúcio had to take a guess, he’d say Gabriel rarely had gotten to play with doms that were so much bigger than him – if ever.

“You are gorgeous,” Reinhardt is purring now, standing to the side after they migrated into the bedroom, hands folded behind his back as he watches Gabriel slowly unbutton the shirt Lúcio had put out for him earlier. (And how much Gabriel loved it when Lúcio took care of him like that; even if he would never admit it of his own free will). “AAaaahaha,” he sighs, a good natured laugh rumbling through his chest, eyes roaming the exposed skin and zeroing in on the little glints of silver pierced through Gabriel’s nipples. “How exciting! I’ve never had a pet with such pretty jewelry. I am jealous, my friend.”

He slants his one-eyed gaze towards Lúcio, sitting on the edge of the bed and kicking his feet – yet Lúcio is fairly certain he doesn’t miss the way Gabriel ducks his head minimally, shoulders pulling up towards his ears in a surprisingly endearing, bashful gesture. Lúcio could feel himself get breathless even through the broad grin he threw his old mentor.

He’d never gotten to see Gabriel like this before. It was exciting.

“I know. He’s got pretty sensitive tits, too. It’s fun to play with them.”

Gabriel’s head snaps around, staring at Lúcio with an incredulous stare – as if he can’t believe Lúcio would betray him like that. His eyes are soft, though; as soft as his mouth, dropped open a little, face darkening with an embarrassed flush.

“Shit,” he murmurs and returns to the task of unbuttoning his shirt, slowly slipping it off his arms – shoulders pulled up a little higher still. Reinhardt ignores the expletive, eyes intent and kind, his rumbling voice dropping down just a bit more: “Is that so? Do you have sensitive tits, pet?”

Lúcio can see Gabriel’s shoulders flex, his posture getting more stubborn after a moment of him standing frozen, surprised at getting addressed in such a way.

“I guess,” he concedes with a grudging mumble, the tips of his ears burning. Lúcio wants to rub his palm across his shaven head.

“Would you like to show it to me? I would very much like to see…”

Gabriel sucks in a sharp breath, and Reinhardt tilts his head forward, body following the careful angling, hands still behind his back: “Or maybe you would allow me to… test it?”

“No!” Gabriel barks out, sudden and defensive, then back paddles immediately while Lúcio leans forward and hooks his hand into the back of his pants, pulling him towards the bed to sit between his legs. “I mean. I’ll – show you.”

Reinhardt nods jovially, casting a look around for a chair which he finds at Lúcio’s desk.

“That is quite alright. I can barely wait – you are such a pretty pet. I heard Lúcio praise you to high heavens. I’m very pleased that you allowed me to watch in the first place.”

Lúcio can feel Gabriel’s breathing against his chest. It’s fast and shallow – almost panting. His fingers are curled into his pants, eyes fixed unwaveringly on Reinhardt as he seats himself comfortably, his huge form seemingly pronounced by the regular-sized items around him.

Gabriel is absolutely mesmerized by him, and Lúcio has to admit that this playdate has been one of his better ideas.

.o.

“That’s it,” Lúcio mumbles right into Gabriel’s ear, his tongue flicking out to lick along the cartilage because that never failed to make his sub squirm and thrust his chest out for their audience’s viewing pleasure. “Don’t touch them directly,” he orders gently, fingers comfortably weaved together and hands lying on Gabriel’s heaving, hard belly. “Round them some more. That’s it. Why don’t you bump one again? Show Reinhardt how pretty your jewelry glints.”

Gabriel whimpers at that even before he shifts one broad fingertip and nudges gingerly at one end of the barbell piercing. He throws his head back, sweat gleaming on the exposed skin of his scalp, lips pulling back in a silent, needy snarl.

“Have you got your eyes open, babe? Are you watching Reinhardt like we told you to?”

Reinhardt laughs low and rough, leaning forward, elbows coming to rest on his massive thighs. There’s an almost feverish glint in his good eye and Lúcio is stupidly happy about how much his old friend seems to enjoy himself.

“He is. Yes. Like a good boy. You can follow orders well, can’t you? Schätzchen…”

Gabriel groans in the back of his throat, back arching, other hand coming up to lustfully cup both his pecs and squeeze them, his broad palms grinding across the puffy, sensitive mess that are his nipples after playing with them for a while.

“Beautiful,” Reinhardt sighs, leans back, spreads his knees wide and lets both Lúcio and Gabriel see the obscene bulge in his pants.

“Oh God,” Gabriel chokes out, voice high and thin in a way Lúcio has never heard. It almost sounds like a question, lilting up at the end, disbelieving of what he is seeing. He squirms in front of Lúcio, muscles beneath his hands flexing as Gabriel curls his hips and meanly, mindlessly pinches his own nipples between thumbs and forefingers, eyes fixed on their guest.

The sound he makes is nearly comically confused and hurt – like he can’t fathom where the pain is coming from, broad hips shifting. When Lúcio slides his hand down, it doesn’t take long until he bumps into Gabriel’s erection tenting the front of his sweatpants.

Reinhardt laughs, head tilted back, a deep, rumbling sound straight from his very core, it seemed. “Would you look at that! What a little pain slut. How pretty. Hübsches Ding.”

Gabriel shudders, presses back into Lúcio with a force that nearly topples him back onto the bed – against the body mass of his sub, he has no chance, but he presses back as well as he can, trying to give Gabriel enough to lean on.

He sounds so small and vulnerable; the sounds he makes high-pitched and dying as he tugs on his piercings openly now, torments his nipples until they look puffy and positively raw, while his cock keeps wetting through the front of his grey sweats.

“Can he come like this?” Reinhardt asks softly, a little more restraint now, gaze roaming Gabriel’s body. “Just from getting his tits tormented?”

Gabriel lets his head fall back on a groan.

“Oh yes, he certainly can. I tried it almost two weeks straight. He was so desperate the first few times – swore up and down that he was gonna go insane; but he was such a good boy, keeping his hands at his sides, letting me scratch and pinch at his lovely tits until he finally managed to come for me. Fuck…”

Lúcio makes a soft sound, hips rocking into Gabriel’s ass just to relief some of the pressure of his swollen cock. He can still hear Gabriel’s begging: how his voice had cracked, all the vitriol and curses melting away into helpless mewls and shivery enquiries about getting to at least hold his cock; have his big fist around his dick and hug it to his belly as if that would help his predicament any.

Reinhardt looks hungry at that, leaning farther towards them still, a few strands of his gelled back hair dropping into his eyes and making him look a little wild.

Gabriel starts trembling in Lúcio’s arms – a faint vibration throughout his strong body that Lúcio can’t tell whether it stems from anticipation or dread; prey in front of a larger, benevolent predator.

“Were proud of him, weren’t you? Lovely sub coming just from getting his slutty tits played with.” He pauses at that, scrutinizing, watches Gabriel’s reaction and moves on when all he got was a throaty gurgle, Gabriel’s hands twitching at his sides. He sounds husky now, his voice a steady rumble filling the room with ease. “Yes. Lets his Master abuse his tits and comes from it, too. He looked lovely, didn’t he? Come-dumb; messy because he couldn’t hold it any longer. Little whore for his Master’s amusement.”

Lúcio can’t help but bite into Gabriel’s shoulder, hips curling, rocking up more insistently into his sub – dry humping him in a way he hadn’t done yet; always just playing with his submissive’s body, building up to finally fucking that gorgeous, dark space always clinging so beautifully to his fingers.

He feels feverish. Sick in the best way. He had always known that Reinhardt and he meshed well but never realized just how good the older dom really was; riling Lúcio up almost just as much as Gabriel.

He is playing with them both: letting them dance along the tune he’s setting, and Lúcio couldn’t start being mad at him even if he wanted to. His submissive is lapping it up by now, basically eating right out of Reinhardt’s palm as he makes soft, hurt sounds, the fresh stubble on his scalp rubbing against Lúcio’s throat and cheek. He is panting like a dog, loud and almost obnoxious, and Lúcio wants to fucking record it and listen to Gabriel on bad days when he needs a pick-me-up.

He jerked at getting called ‘whore’, gasping, squirming, and Reinhardt pounces immediately on the weakness.

“Is that what you are, Schätzchen? A whore?” He sounds kind as he says it – a little breathless, even. When Lúcio peers over the swell of Gabriel’s shoulder, Reinhardt’s face is flushed a little darker like he imbibed too much.

Gabriel jerks again, gurgles something unintelligible and shakes his head vigorously as he tries to turn away for the first time that evening, trying to hide his face in the crook of Lúcio’s shoulder. His skin feels feverishly hot. It fries Lúcio’s brain cells even though he knows he should be the one keeping a cool head – leading his sub through the experience of getting shared with another dom for the first time.

He mouths mindless and wet against the side of Gabriel’s face as he shudders, keyed up and high on the endorphins coursing through his body. It is by chance that he looks over to Reinhardt – sees the strict line to his mouth, the severe set of his eyebrows.

He halts and Reinhardt tilts his head forward.

“Your submissive is disobeying a rule, Sir.”

Lúcio blinks dumbly, brain sputtering as it first comes up short – difficult to think clearly when his arms are full of his big pet being as soft and needy as he’d rarely seen – before it finally kickstarts once more. The heat is still there; his cock still feeling overstuffed, balls ripe and sensitive, ready to jerk out an orgasm and cream Gabriel’s back like he always denied himself since starting their play… but it is more contained; more a hard, hot ball of need bouncing in his midst instead of an all encompassing wave of heat swamping and drowning him.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he croons, hands gentle but insistent as he starts denying Gabriel the reprieve of hiding himself away, making the weakly struggling man turn back around. “You need to watch our guest, or did you forget already? And he asked you a question. Don’t be rude. You’ve been such a good boy the whole evening, babe.”

“That he has. I bet he already earned himself a few treats for later,” Reinhardt adds, voice gentled down from earlier, gaze kind. Gabriel huffs – tries to growl, and build some of his walls back up – but it comes out like a pathetic sigh and he lets himself get repositioned again; back to his dom’s front, forced to look at Reinhardt, even if he turns his head a little – only glances from the corner of his eyes.

Reinhardt has leaned back again; body language loose and self-assured, one large hand rubbing thoughtfully against his jaw. When he speaks again, he has changed tactics once more, and Lúcio wonders whether this is deliberate rather than accidental: not merely a dom trying to find out what a sub needs but rather actively trying to unseat Gabriel and make him lose balance.

“I bet he would look gorgeous crawling for you,” he says. There’s no smile on his lips, face intent and serious, bushy eyebrows drawn together in concentration as he stares at Gabriel – takes him in, inspects him, imagines him crawling already.

“Little rings instead of those barbells and a silver chain to connect…”

Gabriel’s mouth drops open but no sound comes out. His hands stutter, hesitate, stop where they had been restlessly clawing at the bedding – one of them finally reaching slowly, hesitant like he is not sure whether he finds the thought hot enough to jerk off to, for the hard flex of his cock, pre-cum seeping through the material of his pants, getting them tacky and clingy.

“S-Sir!” he rasps – nothing more; voice wobbly and needy – enough to make Lúcio breathless.

“You’d like that, babe?” he croons with a slightly wobbling voice, and hooks his chin over the swell of Gabriel’s shoulder, watching Gabriel’s big fist clench over his cock, then reaching for it as well, smaller hand across Gabriel’s knuckles, easily taking control over what movements they were doing and how hard they were gripping. His sub was so easy to concede power to his smaller dom. “You wanna crawl for me sometime? Have me lead you around on your gorgeous tits? I could buy you a present, babe… pretty rings and chain just for you. Let me lavish gifts on my obedient pet.”

Gabriel – actually nods. A soft dip of his chin as he keeps squirming but sits like a good boy. Lets them play with him.

When Lúcio glances at Reinhardt, his old mentor looks satisfied; like a cat that got the cream – or more like a lion in his case.

His hands are on his knees, large fingers tapping slowly, idly, the gaze of his good eye roaming Gabriel’s body from the blissed out, soft expression on his scarred face to the glint of steel in his nipples, down to the tent in his sweatpants, cock flexing and pressing against the wet material.

“Will you show me your cock, little sub? Show me all of your body? I bet you can, Schätzchen. You’ve been so good for us the whole evening. Let me see how pretty you are. Your Master wanted to show you off to me, after all. He’s so proud of his gorgeous sub…”

Gabriel obeys mindlessly, movements clumsy, eyelids heavy – and Lúcio can’t even comprehend how much he adores his submissive in that moment.

.o.

Reinhardt isn’t banished from touching any longer.

Gabriel is almost sub-vocal; animalistic in his need as he stands between the bed and the chair and lets his sweatpants fall. He is not shaky on his knees, but all his movements are slow, measured, sluggish – like he has to focus on every motion and think it through before acting on it.

He is almost ridiculously careful when he lifts the elastic band out of the way of his cock to not pinch it, and still it bobs comically in the air, large and so heavy with blood it droops downward against one thick, muscular thigh.

Gabriel stands there, glancing between his dom sitting relaxed on the bed, happy grin on his face, towards their guest, a certain kind of vulnerable longing filling his expression until Reinhardt moves – lifts his hand and beckons him closer with a crook of his fingers.

Gabriel follows it seemingly helpless.

Lúcio unconsciously holds his breath when Reinhardt curls a large, warm hand around one wide hip, then lets it rush out when Gabriel doesn’t react other than sliding closer, letting himself get easily pulled between the lazy spread of the large man’s legs.

“Atemberaubend,” Reinhardt croons at him, looking Gabriel up and down. Lúcio has no idea what he’s saying but the tone of his voice is more telling anyway. It is weird to be watching his pet play with another dom – not at all like he thought this evening would go – but he can’t deny how gratifying the sight of Gabriel easily trusting is. He seems to be far down in his head, putting his hands onto Reinhardt’s broad shoulders without fuss when asked to do so and lets the large, callused hands explore his body further.

Reinhardt, for his part, moves like he has all right to the sub’s body; gentle yet unrelenting, feeling him up, squeezing his thighs and ass until Gabriel has to go up onto the balls of his feet – traces along the valley of his spine and takes his cock in hand to weigh it in his palm and give it a loving squeeze. He patiently listens to the sub whine and gives him a pump from his warm fist just for good measure – just to keep him on edge and wanting – before he lifts the cock farther up and inspects the metal he had glimpsed earlier.

“You are full of surprises, aren’t you.”

Gabriel squirms on the spot, toes curling against the naked floor boards, hips starting to hunch forward, trying to fuck against Reinhardt’s exploring fingers until the dom barks: “Still, now.”

Gabriel gasps, fingers clutching fists full of Reinhardt’s shirt – and Lúcio waits for the backlash; Gabriel’s petulant snarl, the embarrassed tilt to his shoulders when he feels like he got caught doing something illicit… it doesn’t come, though. He lets his head fall forward, watching Reinhardt play with his body, legs trembling like a young colt’s just from the effort of standing still like he got ordered to.

“You are a good boy,” Reinhardt suddenly says, voice pitched so low, Lúcio can barely understand – it is like it’s only meant for the two of them, and he feels bad for listening in… just not enough to stop.

Reinhardt has placed his large hand onto Gabriel’s belly, fingers spread, just pressing his palm against the tight muscles as he looks up at him, the fingers of the other absent mindedly tracing a deep scar on Gabriel’s back. “You are a very good boy – letting me play with you. Letting your Master show you off. He is very happy with you; he tells me so often. You don’t need to fight everything he asks of you – it is okay to feel happy when he praises you, even if it is just the little things.”

Lúcio’s fingers curl into the fabric of his pants, knuckles getting pale as he stares at Gabriel’s broad back. He seems to have stopped breathing, standing totally rigid, hands in fists at his sides.

Reinhardt’s voice drops a bit lower still, and Lúcio has no hope of catching what he is saying now; can only watch the strange jerking motions of Gabriel’s shoulders, and the movement of his head as he shakes it first and then nods it – slower, less assured.

Reinhardt’s fingers stop their ceaseless up-and-down motion along the scar, then he suddenly leans back, voice louder once more, easily filling the room.

“Well then go to your Master, pretty pet. Play with him – and maybe I’ll have a treat for you later.”

He lets one hand fall into the spread of his thighs, gripping himself unabashedly, smile back on his face and crinkling the corners of his eyes.

Gabriel tilts a little drunkenly on his axis as he turns around. His cheeks look strangely blotchy – like his body can’t decide whether it wants to flush or not – and his dark eyes look a little too wet; but when he drops onto his knees and crawls towards Lúcio on all fours, it is hard to focus on much else than the gorgeous creature as a whole – and Lúcio has trouble breathing.

He is mute when he spreads his legs, and lets his sub nudge between his knees. It is not the first time that he had Gabriel suck his cock, but it is the first time that Gabriel was looking so soft and sweet while doing it: face open, pretty brown eyes never leaving Lúcio’s face as he leans down to rub his cheek against the wet head of his cock.

A sticky smear remains when he pulls back to drag his tongue along the length, and Lúcio can’t help but touch it with the tips of his fingers, focusing on Gabriel’s little sound of happiness and how shockingly pink his tongue is. It looks like sweet candy and Lúcio wants to pull him up and kiss him but he doesn’t have the strength to do it: not with Gabriel humming a low sound of appreciation, lips pursing as he suckles on the very tip of the cock he’s playing with, teasing himself just as much with the taste and warmth as he was his dom.

He looks lovely when he finally slides farther down; takes Lúcio in on a steady, smooth glide that has his toes curl and the tips of his fingers prickle. He’s never met anybody that could give head as well as Gabriel could.

“You love cock so much, don’t you?” he murmurs, hand sliding across Gabriel’s scalp, feeling the gratifying rasp of the stubble against his palm. Gabriel goes nearly cross-eyed with bliss, nudging closer still until Lúcio puts one leg across his broad shoulder to accommodate his needy submissive.

Gabriel makes it sloppy and wet, liberally drooling and noisily slurping as he moves his head in slow, self-indulging drags, tongue pressed almost too harshly against the sensitive head, cushioning it as much as it was pushing it up against his hard palate.

“God, baby boy,” Lúcio groans – whines – back arching and fingers spasming against the back of Gabriel’s shorn head, heel digging hard into the ground as he gets pushed to the razor sharp edge of pain and pleasure.

Gabriel is still staring at him, eyes almost vacant, large, warm hands on Lúcio’s thighs, rubbing mindless circles with his thumbs. He is not moving much; mostly suckling in quiet satisfaction, and when Lúcio starts using him – hands framing his face and leading his head to dip in deep, pushing until he is just about to slip down his throat – Gabriel lets him.

“Beautiful,” Reinhardt sighs. He has left his spot on the chair to drift over to them, and lowers himself into a squat next to Gabriel with a low groan and a breathless chuckle when his joints pop loudly. “Gettin’ too old for this,” he murmurs, watching with almost polite interest as Lúcio tilts Gabriel’s head for both their viewing pleasure as he playfully nudges his cock against the inside of Gabriel’s cheek, making it bulge obscenely.

“He’s such an obedient boy.” Reinhardt lifts his hand slowly, and when Gabriel doesn’t react – eyes glassy and still fixed up on his dom’s face – he starts rubbing a big, rough fingertip against the outline of Lúcio’s cock.

Lúcio hisses, grinning sharp and with clenched teeth, eyebrows drawn together as he shifts Gabriel’s head once more, pushing him down and making him gag soft and wet around his cock, throat massaging, little puffs of air ruffling the tight curls at the base of his cock. Just a little more and Gabriel’s nose is pressed against his warm skin, his submissive’s hands no longer moving, just gripping tight and almost bruising as he lets himself get choked, eyes clenched and tears shining at the corners.

“He is,” Lúcio huffs, fingertips spasming against Gabriel’s scalp when he feels his throat squeeze down again, harder this time, Gabriel’s body getting tense the longer he has to stay down without air, getting bracketed on both sides by the doms surrounding him, bearing down on him, keeping him in place and locked down at their mercy…

Lúcio counts under his breath, an easy countdown of five before he abruptly lets Gabriel back up. The submissive wrenches his head back with a large, liquid gulp of air, a thick strand of saliva connecting him still to the flushed head of Lúcio’s cock. His eyes are huge, chest heaving, body shaking… and still he remains kneeling, lets himself get caged in by the patient, iron will of his dom and the huge body of a stranger.

“Pretty boy,” Lúcio coos, chest feeling too small for the bubble of fierce, warm affection filling him, as he leans down and hugs Gabriel’s head to his belly. “My pretty, good boy.”

Gabriel is still huffing and very quiet, but his hips are moving – shimmying left and right, subconsciously seeking friction for his cock which is lying blood filled and heavy in his lap.

Reinhardt watches quietly, a little smirk nearly hidden by his beard. He lets them calm down for a moment before he starts shifting, large hand carefully rubbing warm and soothing along the submissive’s trembling, scarred back.

“I think he earned his treat, now. Come on – up with you.”

Gabriel is almost kitten weak at this point, big, muscled body lax as they pull him up unto the bed and make him stretch out, a soft sound of pain dribbling from him as he straightens his legs out after kneeling for so long.

“Here. Keep your hands where I put them,” Reinhardt tells him, speaking slow and careful so Gabriel will understand through the fog clearly filling his head. He presses them next to his shoulders, squeezing his wrists for good measure to get his point across. Gabriel stares at him with an almost vacant expression before his eyes start roaming again, seeking his dom and settling on Lúcio when he shifts to be within easier reach.

“And your legs… nice and up…” Reinhardt murmurs, arm hooking below Gabriel’s knees, pushing them up until his lovely ass is exposed, testicles peeking out large and dark between the thick muscles of his thighs.

When he starts squirming, Lúcio shushes him, one hand reaching for Gabriel’s pierced cock and curling around it – not moving, just holding on to give him something to fixate on.

“Let us reward you,” he croons, and when Gabriel calms down again; looks, in fact, eager when he sees Reinhardt fish out the bottle of lube, large, thick cock pulsing warm and needy in his palm, he has to think again about how much he wants to capture these moments. Take pictures of his slutty, trusting sub – film him and how gorgeously he submits, so he can show him later and make him appreciate how obedient he is for his dom…

He gets distracted by Gabriel groaning and squirming again, though this time downwards, trying to get more of the wide fingertip pressing their way inside, and… fuck if that wasn’t a gorgeous sight.

.o.

Gabriel is needy for kisses, and Lúcio tries to accommodate him as often as possible, but the sight of Reinhardt fucking him on his thick fingers is too mesmerizing to ignore for long. He’s been allowed to stretch one leg back out, the other one hooked over Reinhardt’s shoulder, giving him access to the sweet, little muscle currently clenching around just two of his fingers.

They look obscene, stretching him open, thick knuckles pressing against the rim and forcing it to open up for more, deeper, wider. Gabriel’s hands were curled into sweaty fists at his ears, his chest jumping with panting breaths as Reinhardt pushes in deeper, a low rumble of satisfaction rolling from him like thunder.

“You are so very soft inside,” he comments, his other fist curled around his cock, slowly pumping himself to relieve some of the almost painful tension. Lúcio tried to imagine the wide, dusky head pressing into Gabriel’s body, and failed. He wonders whether Gabriel could take him. Whether he would take him if Lúcio asked him; trying so hard to work himself onto the obscene dick, let his little cunt get spread beyond repair…

“So very soft and warm. Pretty little hole so perfect to cushion cocks, hm? You were built for it, weren’t you?”

Gabriel makes a small sound of confirmation even as he slants his eyes away and to the side, not able to look at either of them as he carefully curls his hips, fucking down against the broad fingers fucking him, his cock lying warm and heavy across his clenching abdomen.

“I bet your dominant loves to fuck that sweet little space. You keep him so warm and snug inside your body, don’t you?”

His voice is almost just a meaningless rumble, pitched so low Gabriel mindlessly nods along, mouth wet and open, eyes fixed on the large cock in the big fist – how the head glistens with pre-cum.

“He’s not had the privilege yet,” Lúcio interjects, a little smirk curling the corners of his mouth. He feels like a king, watching his pet get fucked and sampled by another; how Gabriel shows his best side off. “We’re still working on it.”

“I see.” Reinhardt turns his head and presses a tickling kiss against the outside of Gabriel’s knee, his fingers pushing in a little deeper still until Gabriel’s mouth opens wide in a cry that has first a false start, then stutters out of him broken and pathetic at the feeling of two broad fingertips rubbing up against his prostate for the first time.

“I bet your Master will have a treat for you these coming days. You’ve been so good, little submissive.”

Gabriel angles his head back, pressing it into the cushion, eyes clenched shut as he tries to ride out the waves of clenching, warm pleasure rolling through him, his hips jerking against the unrelenting pressure located somewhere deep in his pelvis.

Reinhardt glances towards Lúcio and they throw each other knowing, feral grins.

.o.

Gabriel’s hands are still curled at his shoulders – sweet little kitten paws that he hasn’t dared taking down since Reinhardt had put them there with his own large hands, warm and insistent as he’d pressed them to their place.

He’s not looking at them – he’s not looking at anything in particular, just coasting on the feeling of his release and the warmth sloshing through his body like a wave, muscles shivery and twitching as they slowly relax from their cramp.

Lúcio watches as his sub’s wide hips curl into the air slowly, sluggishly, as if he was still fucking – as if his body hadn’t registered yet that everything was done; those shockingly large fingers no longer fucking him and spreading his poor rim apart.

His cock looks delectable, lying in the mess he made on his belly, still thick and chubby, inviting for a mouth to lick him until he cried of over sensitivity.

Reinhardt is breathing carefully deep where he crouches next to the bed. Lúcio wonders whether he could actually go again. The thought of watching his old mentor jerk off across Gabriel’s face once more makes his heart pound an almost painfully fast tattoo against his ribs.

Seeing Gabriel blissed out and turning his face into the thick ribbons of cum splashing against his cheeks… Seeing him trying to lap it all up, not caring about looking silly as he stuck his tongue far out,restricted by nothing but his Master’s firm voice…

…it had been nice. Very nice. Fuck, but he wanted to see this more often: His pet playing with other doms, showing them what a good boy he was, letting them jerk off on him and thanking them with the same breathy voice he’d thanked Reinhardt with earlier. It had went straight to Lúcio’s core, feeding that place that told him to squirrel Gabriel away and keep him safe…

“Are you feeling well, babe?” he croons, head still hot and feeling like it is filled with cotton, cock pressing insistently into his sub’s thick thigh as he stretches out next to him and lays an unrestricting, possessive hand across his throat. “You looked gorgeous right now.”

He rasps it right into Gabriel’s ear, feels how his submissive is warm and pliant, making soft, high pitched noises like a little animal, Adam’s apple bobbing beneath the palm of Lúcio’s hand.

“Maybe Reinhardt can come again… I bet he could if you were very nice to him. Wouldn’t you like that? Play with his big, fat cock some more?”

Gabriel groans, low and wrecked, a drawn-out sound that Lúcio couldn’t even hope to interpret. He turns his head, trying to hide his sticky face against Lúcio’s shoulder, obviously loathe to admit that he would very much like that. Reinhardt only laughs, rumbling and tired – but not denying Lúcio’s proposition, he notices with a spike of excitement.

Maybe his sub needs a little more encouragement…? Help him shake off the lethargy, even though he has to be so very tired now, lovely body stretched out for them to do as they please. He presses a kiss against Gabriel’s temple, feeling the scratch of his shorn scalp against his cheek and whispers with a low rasp: “I could record you playing with him, pretty boy… So we’ll have something for later, and you can see how you-”

His reaction time is sluggish. Maybe he would have been able to dodge had he not been so fixated on his own, throbbing dick – had he, in fact, had even an inkling that what he had said was upsetting to Gabriel.

As it is, he didn’t.

All that registers is the sudden angry pounding on the side of his head, ear ringing with the blow he had received. There is a commotion and loud voices and it takes Lúcio surprisingly long to realize he was staring at the ceiling, knocked flat after receiving a sharp elbow to the temple.

The throbbing is so sharp and angry, he wonders whether he’s bleeding, hand uncoordinated as he pats the side of his face, trembling fingers nearly pushing into his eye before he manages to lay them at his temple.

There is no blood on them, but he can already feel a swelling starting up. He blinks slowly, then registers how quiet it had become all of a sudden, and that more than anything finally jerks him out of the confused stupor and makes him sit up abruptly, nearly knocking heads with a concerned Reinhardt.

“Are you well?” He is holding a towel and when he presses it to the side of Lúcio’s face, he realizes that it is wrapped around an ice pack.

Lúcio hisses and squeezes his eye shut on that side – before stopping that as well because every twitch of his facial muscles seems to hurt. He stares mutely at Reinhardt, then looks around the room, gaze settling finally on Gabriel sitting on the chair Reinhardt had vacated earlier, slumped forward, elbows braced on his thighs.

He was still naked, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

“Yeah. Oh man… What the heck…?” He gingerly takes the towel out of Reinhardt’s hand and presses it against the throbbing himself. It already starts to calm down, and the roiling in his stomach is settling. Reinhardt is keeping a close eye on him as he shimmies his way to the edge of the bed but relaxes when he gets on his feet without wobbling.

“What happened?” he asks the room at large, though his eyes are on Gabriel. He isn’t looking at either of them and, as if feeling his dominant’s gaze on him, lets his head sag even further down. He is shaking, Lúcio registers now.

He feels a little numb, confused about how things could’ve changed so quickly from the warm, post-coital cuddling to… this.

“Gabriel?”

He steps closer and carefully leans down to catch his submissive’s face – wincing as the blood surges into his head at the new elevation – and frowns when Gabriel immediately turns away with a gruff grunt, shoulder curling up to shield himself even more.

“What happened? Did I scare you or something? I mean…”

He reaches a hand out for Gabriel’s shoulder and sucks in a sharp breath when he feels how cold he is; the sweat coating him out of nervous fright, he realizes now.

“Damn. Come on, you’re ice cold, you’re going to get sick. Reinhardt, help me.”

Reinhardt hums and nods, quietly assisting as they start putting a vaguely resisting Gabriel into a hoodie and sweats.

The sub is shaking so subtly he’s nearly vibrating, breath coming in uneven little gulps of air until Lúcio wonders whether he is crying – but when he dips his head and catches a glimpse of his face, he’s just staring down onto the ground, bottom lip caught between his teeth, face worryingly pale beneath his dark skin.

“Do you want to shower?” he asks him slowly. Gabriel jerks a small glance at him. His pupils are small as pinpricks. He looks ready to bolt and Lúcio feels sick to his stomach. He’s never seen Gabriel like this. Angry and stubborn and spitting mad, yeah – but not as quietly afraid as he was now, standing rigid between the two doms and getting a little green around the nose as if –

He bolts, suddenly, running straight for the bathroom, and just a moment later they can hear him retching.

Lúcio stands helplessly, eyes seeking out his old mentor while his temple is still throbbing distractingly.

“What happened?”

Reinhardt stares at the half-open bathroom door and lifts both shoulders in a small shrug.

“War flashbacks, I’d say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Reinhardt turns his head so he can peer at him with his good eye, bushy brows raised in surprise.

“Are you sure you don’t understand?”

Lúcio slings his arms around his chest, slowly rubbing palms up and down his upper arms. He stares almost moodily into Reinhardt’s face before he feels the angry denial melting away, and his shoulders sag a little.

“He… he never told me anything. I didn’t want to – I didn’t want to make him afraid of me. Holy shit, have you seen his face? He hates me.”

His voice is breaking a little and he is annoyed at his own childishness. Reinhardt huffs and places a large hand on his shoulder to give him a friendly squeeze.

“You know that’s not it. And we all know you didn’t do it on purpose. I just…”

His gaze slides away and back towards the door. There’s still the occasional retching to be heard; mostly there’s ominous quiet coming out of the bathroom, though. Reinhardt’s face looks tense. Strangely pensive.

“Can I leave you two alone? I want to… look something up. It’s just that something has been nagging me since I’ve seen him and I want to check it out. Will you be okay without me? I don’t think he will become violent again.”

Lúcio bites the tip of his tongue to stifle the question but it bubbles out anyway.

“What am I supposed to do now?”

Reinhardt smirks at him and pats his back.

“I taught you better than that.”

Yeah… he did.

.o.

Gabriel was still cowering in front of the toilet, his hood up, though if his position was any indication, he was lying his head on the toilet seat and simply staring ahead of himself.

Lúcio let the door softly bang against the wall as he pushed it open, and when Gabriel doesn’t react – and screams at him to get the fuck out – he lets out the breath he had been holding, stomach unclenching from the tight, painful fist it had been in.

“Hey. You feeling better?” he asks softly, crouching down behind his sub, hand rubbing warm and soothing along the broad back. He had at least stopped shaking, even if he wasn’t turning into the touch like he usually would.

“Guess so.”

He sounds petulant, and Lúcio has to smile a bit – only with one side of his mouth so it didn’t put another strain on what was by now a sizeable bump. He carefully lets himself down next to the toilet, leaning against the cool wall. It feels good; helps him to calm down and ground himself.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

Lúcio plays with the hem of Gabriel’s hoodie, quietly nodding along even though Gabriel could not see him.

“You have an insane left hook. All that training you’re doing is paying off. Maybe you can teach me some day? So I can at least defend me and my skinny ass.”

Gabriel hums low, non-committal. He leans up, sitting a little straighter, though he has his head still curled away, not letting Lúcio get a glimpse of his face.

“I’m sorry. For hitting you.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for making you upset.”

Gabriel flinches at that, fingers drumming restlessly against the toilet lid.

“Do you… want me to go?”

“No. I want you to come closer.”

He lifts the hem he’s been playing with and tugs gently, gratified when Gabriel moves and comes closer, a soft sigh escaping him as he tucks his big body against Lúcio’s side; makes himself small and lays his head against his dom’s chest.

Lúcio slowly rubs a hand up and down his arm, thoughts running in circles, foot bouncing along a rhythm that suddenly sprang up in his mind. Gabriel is carefully quiet against him.

“I didn’t want to upset you. I’m very sorry about that,” Lúcio says at last, his hand stopping and just lying curled around Gabriel’s impressive bicep. “I can understand that you don’t want to talk about it, but…”

“Don’t say it,” Gabriel suddenly whispers, his voice high and child-like, shivering like a thin cord that got plucked too hard. “Please.”

Lúcio plowed on, fingers digging in deeper when Gabriel tried to pull himself away: “I love you and I want to understand. You’ll have to tell me one day, if you want to keep this… us… running. This is not meant to be an ultimatum, just… this’ll not work in the long run. What happened to you is just… it’s standing there and I can’t get around it or into it without you helping me. It’s – You’re just… blocking me out, dude.”

Gabriel has ducked his head lower with his first words and Lúcio can feel how he even stopped breathing for the moment. A couple minutes crawl by before Gabriel says slowly, slurring a little as if drunk: “I don’t need to… now… right?”

“‘Course not. Take all the time you need. Doesn’t have to be now or even today or even this week, but…”

He feels a little jumpy and shivery himself now, a live wire buzzing beneath his skin, the tips of his ears burning. He’s never told Gabriel how he feels about him and now it was just kind of hanging in the room awkwardly.

Gabriel doesn’t say more, just pulls his knees up, balls himself into a small ball. It takes a while until Lúcio feels the soft way his shoulders bounce every now and then, and takes him even longer to realize Gabriel is quietly crying, not making a sound.

He feels horrible.

“Tell me what you want” gabe/lucio pls

“Tell me what you want.”

Lúcio sits with his legs crossed, two items laid out before him on the bed: a leather paddle and soft wash glove which he would soak in warm water before rubbing Gabriel down.

“It’s your choice,” he tells him, which he hadn’t yet done and made Gabriel instantly suspicious. He always asked whether Gabriel wanted to play with one toy or another – but he never outright gave him the choice between toys in the first place.

Gabriel is kneeling on the floor, eyeing both options, back ramrod straight. He looks up at Lúcio every now and then – scrutinizing. Mistrusting. If it had been for Lúcio, they would be sitting on an eye level for this. As it was, however, Gabriel didn’t like them being on an eye level when they were playing; even though he was looking as moody and ill-tempered as ever, face scrunching up and getting darker by the minute.

“Why should I choose?” he murmurs, hands on his thighs.

“Because I want to know what you’re in the mood for. You can take them in hand if you want to.”

Gabriel looked like he wanted to, but he didn’t move an inch.

“What if I choose wrong?”

Lúcio frowns and shrugs. “There’s no wrong option, babe. It’s an either, or kind of deal.”

Gabriel looks back down again, staring at both options, eyes lingering on the shiny, well-kept leather for a while.

He chances another glance up at Lúcio who was rocking on his ass to whatever little tune was going through his head this time, then jerks his chin towards the lime green wash cloth.

“That one.”

Lúcio smiles and leans forward, hand stroking through Gabriel’s short curls like he’s petting a dog – and Gabriel leans into it.

“Aren’t you full of surprises,” Lúcio coos. “I was sure you’d jump on the opportunity to get a little pain. What a good boy you are… tellin’ the truth and all.”

*Slides in* @bonebo has been a hooooooooorrible enabler and gave me all those ideas about gruff!Sub!Gabriel and how his very first abusive dom treated him ❤

Please heed the following warnings: Abusive relationship, gaslighting, forced body modification, mental and physical torture.

Gabriel is p young when he first tried the lifestyle… like maybe 20-25ish.


“You know… it’s Saturday tomorrow.”

Gabriel grunts in affirmation, eyes on the news on the TV. Lúcio shifts a little on his lap and starts scratching idle fingers through the short curling hair on top of his head. Weeks ago, Gabriel had been confused by the kid’s constant need to touch without it being sexual. By now he takes it in stride – and maybe enjoys it a little, too.

“You could sleep here,” Lúcio ventures. “I can make you breakfast. Like… get it to you in bed and shit.”

Gabriel becomes still for a moment, eyes still fixed on the TV, hands carefully loose at his sides. Lúcio squirms on his lap, lifting his head from where he put it on Gabriel’s shoulder. “You’d like that, right? I could feed you if you like? Get you the paper or something?”

Gabriel could feel himself flush slowly from the pit of his belly, the heat crawling up his chest.

Truth is, he kinda would like that. He can almost see himself – head in the kid’s lap after getting wrangled into it, letting him feed him bites of whatever he put together. He feels Lúcio’s eyes on him, and when he flicks his gaze over, the kid is right up his grill, staring. 

“Geezus,” he hisses, head jerking away, eyebrows drawing together into a fierce scowl. “We’ll see,” he grunts. Lúcio smirks and lowers his head towards Gabriel’s shoulder once more, hand idly stroking along his jaw, scritching at his goatee, and finally idly tracing the scar on his cheek up to the gash across the bridge of his nose and back again.

It is a thing he likes to do, and while Gabriel has nearly dislocated his wrist the first time he had touched, it has become somewhat of a comfort by now. Enough to make him slump down and rearrange the kid on his lap. He feels stupidly fond when Lúcio purrs: “Good boy.”

.oOo.

Gabriel stared at the short, polished blade the guy presented to him and felt his pulse jump in nervous excitement.

“You like that?” The man asked him, lifting the dagger up until it was right in Gabriel’s face to show him the way the murky light reflected off the blade.

“I… think so, yes. We can definitely try.” Fuck, but he wanted to try that real bad. His cock was chubbing up from the thought of getting nicked by the shiny, sharp metal.

“Yeah, I knew you’d say that,” the man cooed, “Could see you were a pain slut all across the room.”

Gabriel flushed and refused to pull his shoulders up to his ears. He wasn’t sure if he liked this kind of talk, but didn’t want to put a damper in so soon; it’s been the first time one of the guys talking to him had taken him home, and he was more than eager to finally try some of the stuff he’d only been nervously fantasizing about.

“Neat. Okay, then-”

“Not the face,” he quickly blurted out and curled fingers into nervous fists when the guy blinked and frowned. “You can do my chest and… and back. Not the face.”

“My, my… aren’t we a scared little girl. Okay, princess. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

Gabriel’s belly burned with resentment and his cheeks felt hot, but his cock was still all on board: pulsing in his underwear and making him slowly more uncomfortable.

“Any other fears, princess?”

Gabriel’s face hardened in determination and he stared fixedly at the man’s chest. “No.” And then, after a moment of debating: “What’s your name?”

“You’ll call me ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’. Oh, you’ll be fun, I can tell. Baby whores like you are always fun to break in. Come, now. We’re going to play. I’m going to make it so good for you.”

.o.

The thing is, it had been good. Scary, but good.

He’s had problems calling the stranger ‘Master’ and tried it with ‘Sir’ instead but even then he got told that his attitude was shit.

‘I’m doing something for you, whore. I can get a lot prettier subs than you. You need to work for it, right?’ And he did want to work for it. It was why he considered this lifestyle in the first place, after all; why it had intrigued him so much.

He kind of wanted to get pushed around and told what to do by another person. In his head, it always had seemed sort of nice.

In reality, he didn’t like the way Sir talked to him. He had him kneel on the floor and bow his head and make himself small, and told him how lucky he was to have found a dom like him.

“People don’t usually go for the big, burly subs – but I like ‘em. They’re more desperate, y’know? They suck cock like they need it to live and don’t cry around too much. You don’t cry, do you?” And even before he parsed the question, there had been a booted foot kicking him in the side – not too hard, but enough to startle an ‘oof’ out of him, head snapping up to stare at his assailant, only to get it roughly pushed back down by a big hand. “Naw, you’re no crier, I can see that. Good boy.”

Warmth filled his head at the praise, the tips of his ears pounding with blood. Oh, wow…

There wasn’t a lot of praise, unfortunately, which made the few crumbs thrown his way even better and more addicting.

He wasn’t sure if he liked getting called names, but his cock was on board the whole time so he figured it was okay. Everything was new and overwhelming, after all.

“Fuck. You got the fattest ass I’ve ever seen. Holy shit,” Sir exclaimed behind him, his hands around Gabriel’s hips after urging him to lift up on his knees and ‘show off the goods’. Gabriel’s toes curled and he felt a little nauseous with embarrassment at hearing him say that.

“At least you’re good for getting fucked, hm? If nothing else works out, you can at least sell that huge ass of yours. God damn.”

He liked slapping him as he fucked; a steady rain of progressively harder hits against Gabriel’s thighs and cheeks that soon had him feel a stinging burn that made him squirm and try to get away until Sir hissed at him to ‘stand fucking still’.

It felt good, pleasure mounting dizzyingly fast, but Gabriel still bit his knuckles bloody in an attempt to remain as silent as possible. He was not sure what constituted as being a cry baby, and he sure as hell didn’t want Sir to finish before he had gotten off. He felt like slapping and spanking was definitely something he liked. Definitely. Absolutely.

Sir was miffed with him that he had come without permission but let him get away with it because “You’re just a newbie and I hadn’t thought of it. Next time you’ll have to ask.”

He didn’t like the condescension but it was softened by the afterglow of what had been one of the hardest orgasms in his life, and the fact that there would be a ‘next time’.

Sir hadn’t even pulled the short blade out during that first session, and Gabriel felt stupidly reassured because of it. Sir would obviously go easy on him since he was new at all of it – as he liked to remind him with an air of annoyance.

.o.

“Come on. Come on. Watch the teeth damn you!”

Gabriel jerked when Sir’s palm connected with his forehead and pushed him away from his cock, drool connecting the tip with his bottom lip. He was gulping in huge breaths, trying to get as much air into his lungs as possible before Sir forced him back down. His throat was burning, heart pounding in his chest like a rabbit’s.

Sir didn’t force him back down, however – he just sat there with a scowl on his face and his cheek against his fist.

“You’re too stupid to suck cock. I can’t believe it. How can you be so bad at it with a cock sucker mouth like that?”

Gabriel’s belly felt like it was clenching into a fist, cold and painful, the hair on the back of his neck standing up in protest at the harsh words even though his cock jumped hopefully – already trained to associate Sir’s pissy attitude with an incoming fuck.

“I’ve never deepthroated…” he mutters and jerks back at the sudden, harsh slap to the cheek (and, oh, how he loves and hates it – cock eagerly drooling a bead of pre-cum).

“Are you for real? Fuck, but you’re one high maintenance bitch. Do I have to show you everything?”

Gabriel looked to the side, slowly licking his lips as his head spun. He was not… stupid. He was not. He usually was very good at putting people in their place, but as soon as he stepped inside Sir’s home, everything of that… of him… seemed to disappear. It was difficult to form coherent thoughts, anything that made sense, anything that could help him defend himself against the verbal abuse.

“It’s alright. Don’t cry,” Sir murmured, suddenly concerned, voice pitched low and soothing, and it sent Gabriel spinning even faster, his eyes huge, mouth hanging open wordlessly as he stared up, caught like a rabbit in front of the snake – and all the while his cock was fucking hard and pounding insistently, flexing when Sir pet him with a big hand across his head.

“Come. I’ll show you. No need to be upset.”

Gabriel let himself get pulled forward once more, a whine stuck in his throat, feeling vulnerable and exposed and so thankful for Sir’s gentleness as he taught him how to take his cock.

.o.

“Come on, useless slut. Work it. God, do I have to do all the work?” He slaps Gabriel’s thigh and jerks his hips up, forcing himself deeper into him. Gabriel’s eyes widen, a cry stuck in his throat as he stretches that little bit farther around the base of Sir’s cock, his sweaty hands scrabbling for purchase at Sir’s chest until the man hisses and slaps his cock, fingers catching the sensitive head harshly and knocking the breath straight out of Gabriel’s lungs.

He sits there, the pain from his burning anus fading in the face of the pain pounding in his cock, a wave of nausea swamping through his body. For a second utter panic seizes him as he thinks he has to vomit – but it thankfully abates.

“Stupid cunt, that fuckin’ hurt. Don’t touch me without permission. Fuck!”

Gabriel stares down, watches in dismay as red lines slowly start spreading across his dom’s chest where he scratched him in his surprise about the new stretch.

“I’m… sorry,” he murmurs and hates himself for how small he sounds – and how his throat feels scratchy and clogged up. Like he’s close to crying. He thinks distantly how just yesterday he’d been guffawing with his pals at the shop; how they sat around swapping stories when nothing was there to be worked on, and how comfortable he had felt being there because the others were respecting him. Maybe feared him a little with his gruff exterior. It had felt really, really good.

Now, right here, sitting on this man’s cock and close to bawling, it felt unbelievably far away – like the Gabriel Reyes that was still in apprenticeship and yet had the respect of his more experienced co-workers was a totally different person to the one stepping foot into the apartment of this man whose real name he’d only found out by secretly looking into his wallet.

“Why does everything have to be so difficult with you? You’re not that great of a fuck. Being a sub means you got to service me, right? Not the other way round. So get to work, stupid shit.”

.o.

“Hmmm.”

Gabriel turns his head even though he is blindfolded, following the soft hum of Sir. He sounds disappointed and the fear the sound immediately evokes makes him sick to his stomach. He has done nothing but obey this time – stripped himself bare without protest and laid down on the filthy carpet Sir put out for their play times.

“We haven’t really talked about your body yet, pet.” Gabriel relaxes a bit at the petname, a hopeful flush spreading across his shoulder blades while he hides his face against the ground. He feels Sir’s boot between his ankles and spreads them eagerly at the first nudge; showing off his body willingly. He is preening silently, eager for Sir’s approval.

He was still building up muscle, hitting the gym whenever time allowed, and finally the lankiness of youth was starting to give way to a thicker build.

“I kinda picked you because I figured you’d have a big cock, but…” Again, there is the tip of a boot. It’s cold and smooth against the side of Gabriel’s knee, urging him to spread his legs even farther. Gabriel realizes with a nervous jump of his Adam’s Apple that Sir was wearing boots with metal caps.

“No tattoos, no piercings, no nothin’.” He is towering over Gabriel by now, one foot next to his hip, the other between his thighs. Gabriel is breathing fast and silent against the dusty rug, sweat springing up on the crown of his head.

Still, his cock is eager as always – even when he can feel the cold tip of Sir’s boot nudge against the swollen, ripe sack of his testicles.

“You’re an eager slut, you got that working for you. Never saw a guy with an ass like yours. It’s like fucking a cadillac. Kinda luxurious to be honest.”

Gabriel feels embarrassment gnaw up his throat and grits his teeth so he wouldn’t make a sound. The tips of his ears burn and he clenches his eyes shut, hips carefully moving to rub his fattening cock against the rough surface of the mat.

“Show me your cunt, babe.”

And how could he not? It’s been weeks since he started this thing with Sir, and while he did recognize, purely intellectual, that this wasn’t an ideal relationship, that something was distinctly off, he couldn’t place his finger on why because he obviously enjoyed it, didn’t he?

He was always hard and wanting; always came at the end of the day, even if his body hurt or he was hating himself for letting himself get debased the way Sir did.

Though being a Submissive meant just that… didn’t it?

The boot pressing down on his cock jerked him out of his thoughts, breath hitching in his throat, fear trickling down cold and numbing right into his belly.

“Show it to me. Move, stupid shit.”

Gabriel does move, hands reaching back, pulling his cheeks apart even though he doesn’t want to; feels vulnerable in a not-fun way, cock actually going soft for once beneath the threat of the heavy boot pressing down painfully.

“Yeah… that’s it. Stay.”

He stays as Sir starts rounding him, appraising his body, nudging – gently kicking – his sides, his ribs, against his temples and finishing between his thighs where he steps on his cock with an unrelenting, slowly increasing pressure that has Gabriel clench his teeth so hard it hurts, eyes bulging from their sockets, bladder close to giving up.

“You’re pretty enough,” Sir says, ignoring the low, pained groans coming from Gabriel. “But your junk really is disappointing. Here I was looking for some BBC and you got the most average lookin’ dick I’ve ever seen. What the fuck.”

Gabriel, in his mindless animal panic was just about to apologize for it – for his inferior cock – when Sir moved, kicking him in the balls with the steel caps of his boots with an almost gentleness as if done out of sheer, petulant boredom but strong enough to have Gabriel scream after a second of sensory overload, body curling up into a tight ball, hands between his thighs and nausea making him near blind.

.o.

Gabriel was sweating uncomfortably, pulse thrumming quick and scared in his throat. Sir had bound him tightly on his knees, arms held together by handcuffs behind his back, and Gabriel had no idea how it had come to this.

He didn’t trust Sir to undo the handcuffs if (when) he needed to ask for it. He was, for better or for worse, absolutely vulnerable.

“I… I have a safeword,” he rasped, fingers curling into helpless fists behind his back. Sir looked up sharply from the utensils he had strewn out across his bed, eyebrows drawn up high on his forehead.

“What for?”

Gabriel can just huff, looking up at Sir, pleading with his gaze. Inside he was screaming at himself why he was being a stupid asshole and not fucking telling him that he didn’t trust him as far as he could throw him and that he wanted out of the cuffs immediately. His head started swimming again.

His cock was hard and he had no idea why. It made him feel sick to his stomach.

“You don’t need a safeword, pet,” Sir told him, not unkindly. He talks to him like he is a small, dumb child and Gabriel feels close to crying again because he enjoys it. It makes him feel protected. Like he doesn’t need to worry about anything.

Sir lets his work lie on the bed and comes over; squats so he is on eye-level with Gabriel and holds his face in warm, big hands.

“You don’t need a safeword because you’re my good boy, aren’t you? You’re no cry baby. You know how much I hate them, right?” Gabriel bites his tongue, hard, and nods slowly. Sir smiles at him and looks so proud, Gabriel feels breathless, and good, and perfect. He’d say yes to anything in that moment.

“And now,” Sir says, eyes drifting down, watching the eager curve of Gabriel’s cock, hard and needy, “I like some jewelry on my boys, and I think your cock can use some help, really. So I got you some piercings. Sound good?”

Gabriel nods before the words even properly reach his head.

“Good. I got something to help you with being loud while I work.”

And then comes the gag – and then the pain.

.o.

Gabriel had to take the rest of his vacation days for the whole year in order to bounce back from the piercings and give his body time to heal.

Sir didn’t let him go during the time – he was concerned about his well-being. He actually let him sleep most of the time, making sure he was hydrated, bringing him food, cleaning the ladder piercings down his cock and the ones in his nipples.

He told him the whole time how pretty he was, calling him his gorgeous boy.

Thankfully, the piercings heal well, and Gabriel finds himself unable to say anything when Sir ruffles his head and tells him “Looks good now, doesn’t it? No need to cry.”

.o.

Gabriel would never be able to say why this was the thing that finally shook him out of the self-destructive circle of misery-fear-cautious, addictive happiness:

Sir hadn’t taken out the knife since that first night. He had been drinking – not enough to make him piss his pants and stumble around, but enough to get Gabriel to jerk back from him when he steps closer, dagger in hand, blade glinting.

The movement was small, contained, but enough to get the other man furious, stepping up and gripping the short curls on top of Gabriel’s head with one hand, the other pressing the blade flat against Gabriel’s cheek, the tip right underneath his right eye.

“Are you afraid?” Sir hissed, seemingly vibrating out of his skin, and Gabriel wonders whether he’s taken something else as well. He doesn’t dare to speak, just thinks wildly: I said not the face. Not the face.

“I can see you’re afraid. Fucking pussy. Fucking stupid piece of shit. I’ll give you something to be afraid of. God damn it! I’m going to cut your fucking eyes out. Slice your nose off. Fuck your god damn useless head through the hole.

You stupid, worthless cunt!” he screams the last word, voice shrill and cracking, hand drawing back abruptly as if wanting to slap him and taking the first long slice down Gabriel’s cheek.

It finally jerks Gabriel out of his stupor.

.o.

He fingers the scars from the scuffle that ensued whenever he is thinking hard about something.

He never thinks about Sir or the time some ten or fifteen years ago.

.oOo.

“What the fuck are you wearing,” he groans, eyeing the apron Lúcio is wearing as he knee-walks onto the bed, carefully balancing a tray. Gabriel tugs the blanket up a little higher, not bothering to turn around on his back, and indulges in watching the kid.

Lúcio is, as ever with his wardrobe, not phazed in the least.

“I don’t want to get my stuff dirty, ya feel? Come on, come on… I got you somethin’ from everything because you refused to tell me what you like, pal. Damn, this is heavy.”

Gabriel grunts and stays for a minute or two just for good measure – just so it doesn’t seem like he is too eager to follow Lúcio’s urging. The kid, as always, lets him do his weird shit and just rearranges stuff how he wants it to be while he waits.

When Gabriel finally slides over, feigning listlessness, Lúcio’s fingers immediately dive into his short hair and scratch at his scalp, the other one smoothing over his beard and straightening the hair.

“Good morning, good boy-o.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Lúcio cackles and thumbs his cheek affectionately. “You got it. Good boy it is, then. My good boy.”

LucioReaper: “You’re so beautiful, all spread out like this, just for me.”

Anonymous said: “

What if Lúcio was actually packing some SERIOUS HEAT in his pants that no one expected since he’s so short. Then when Gabriel sees it for the first time his immediate gut response is just “Oh God I want that inside me”… but then Lúcio’s quite FIRM in bed and not letting him just ride that disco stick, since he doesn’t want Reaper accidentally hurting himself. Cue the most long, intense, gentle prep session and Gabe’s left whimpering in a daze because he didn’t know it could be like THAT.”

Yo. In case someone was wondering, I feel like this is an AU in the same time as the current OW but without OW?


Coming to the kid after work has become somewhat of an upsetting regular. Upsetting, because Gabriel liked it. He liked thinking about getting back to the airy loft after a day spent in the shop and getting hugged and squeezed by Lúcio no matter how loud he growled or how rudely he shoved him away after a couple of seconds of soaking in the affection.

He liked thinking about Lúcio having cooked something exotic and asking him to kneel and feeding him while his newest half-finished mixtape ran in the background.

He liked thinking about it because it made him calm when his coworkers drove him up a wall – and when he thought about it when he was alone in his flat (which was rare these days) or just sitting and breathing, he felt anxious and jittery and like everything spun too fast.

He’s had his phone in hand with the intention of breaking it off (quick and dirty with a stupid text message) more often than he liked to admit. He always put it away before he could type and went back to Lúcio anyway. The kid was a drug. He was… kind. He supposed that was the best word to describe him. 

Kind.

Gabriel… liked him.

.o.

The realization that he hadn’t seen Lúcio naked even after weeks of them… playing? Being… together?… had only really hit him when he came home to the kid coming fresh out of the shower and with a towel around his hips.

Gabriel had not let anything show, but he’d been troubled with how downright pretty the brat was. The white of the fabric had only accentuated the warm, brown skin stretched across tight, pretty muscles. 

And maybe he had followed the kid. Maybe he had followed him into his bedroom like a fucking puppy because he’d been plain curious.

In the end, he couldn’t say whether it had been a good idea because seeing Lúcio’s cock, if even just for a couple seconds, had opened up a whole new section of self-doubt.

Why was the kid holding himself back? Why hadn’t he even tried fucking Gabriel with what was one of the most gorgeous cocks he’d ever seen? Was Gabriel not his type after all? Was he just playin’?

Why was he not fucking him??

.o.

“Oh,” Lúcio said softly, blinking, fingers still on the handle of the bedroom door. After a second of just taking in the scene before him he starts beaming.

“Well aren’t you a pretty sight?” He comes closer, watching Gabriel naked and spread out, one big fist around his cock, slowly jerking off, face set into his usual grim scowl.

Lúcio found it endearing how someone could look pissed off while pleasuring himself.

“You’re so beautiful, all spread out like this…” He sits down on the edge of the bed and reaches out, fingers tracing the big muscles in Gabriel’s thighs. “Is that just for me?”

Gabriel’s face looks more pinched for a moment, dark eyes flitting away. “Yes,” he grits out, ill-tempered and grouchy. Lúcio can’t help but feel warm and fuzzy inside. Gabriel has never surprised him like this; offered up his wonderful body for Lúcio; showing off how pretty he was.

And maybe he said some of these things aloud because Gabriel turns his head to the side and bites his lip, hand squeezing his cock like he wants to strangle it.

He isn’t protesting, though.

“Did you want to show me how gorgeous you are?” Lúcio croons, his hand on Gabriel’s thigh now, just feeling how it flexes beneath his touch – watching him slowly move his fist. “You are a very handsome man… I’m very happy to have you all to myself-”

“Why aren’t you fuckin’ me, then?”

It breaks out of Gabriel all of a sudden, and both of them are quiet for a few seconds, staring at each other, stunned.

Gabriel takes his hand away from his cock and carefully flexes his hand like it hurts now. He’s not looking at Lúcio.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

So sullen again. Moping as he wants to curl up and turn on his side; a gentle touch to his hip stays him, and Lúcio wonders like so often if Gabriel even knows how good of a submissive he is; sweet and responsive to Lúcio’s every demand, even if he likes to make things difficult every once in a while.

“I just like pampering you.”

“So you don wanna fuck me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Now he looks confused as well as hurt, and Lúcio crawls up on the bed, nudges between Gabriel’s thighs and rubs up and down the corded muscles.

“I want to go slow. I want to pamper my pretty boy until you’re a sweet, little mess for me. I want it to be something really special.” He watches Gabriel’s face go dark – not with anger but embarrassment. He notices how his cock is still gorgeous and big; flexing when Lúcio calls him ‘my pretty boy’. 

He leans down and rubs his cheek against the warm cock, presses a suckling kiss to the tip. Gabriel groans low and wrecked.

“And I want you to really beg for it,” he admits against the coarse thatch of pubic hair, then starts tongueing the very base of Gabriel’s cock because he knows it drives him mad.

He lets him mull it over for a minute or two; busying himself with pressing suckling kisses against the soft skin of Gabriel’s testicles, before he finally sits up and pats at those wide, gorgeous hips.

“C’mon. Since you’re already naked… why don’t you show me the rest of your pretty body? Let me see what a good boy you are…”

And it is when Gabriel slowly curls fingers around the backs of his thighs that he murmurs “Yes, Sir” low and indistinct – like he hopes Lúcio will not hear it.

“Oh yeah?” Lúcio rasps, belly going hot with need, “That’s how it is? Little boy gets promised dick and suddenly he finds his manners?”

Gabriel screws his eyes shut and groans. It’s small and breathy but it’s there and it makes Lúcio feel on top of the world as he watches the other man pull up his legs, knees nearly at his chest, offering himself up on a fucking silver platter.

“I’ll need to keep that in mind, won’t I?” He lets his hands rub along the backs of Gabriel’s thick thighs, fingers dancing into the cleft of his ass just to watch him squirm and how his face becomes very soft and needy. “How greedy you are for cock. You miss getting fucked, pretty boy?”

Gabriel bites his lip again, but this time he can’t keep in the honest to god sob, eyes glassy and huge. He looks vulnerable with his knees up to his chin and his tender hole clenching shy and beneath Lúcio’s petting fingers. He looks like he’s going to start bawling any second now, and Lúcio feels like there’s more to this whole thing – just like there’s always more to everything concerning this man.

He wonders if it is one of the things he’ll be able to broach later on or if Gabriel will block him out.

“Maybe you want me to buy you some toys? Have you play with them for me? Show me how you like to get fucked so I know exactly how to treat my pet when I decide you have earned the real thing?”

Gabriel’s hips jerk at that; one powerful wave that has all those muscles flexing and clenching and Lúcio’s mouth run dry.

“Guess that is a ‘yes’,” he murmurs, fingers feeling clammy with excitement.

For the fic starts reaper76 “Come sit in my lap, pet.” Please.

Anonymous said: “ “Come sit in my lap, pet.” with reaper and morrison and milky tiddies plssss uwu”

Anonymous said: “ “Come sit in my lap, pet.” Reaper76, sub!Reaper”


“Come sit in my lap, pet.”

Jack was waving him closer with a hand, sitting a little straighter to show off the broad seat of his thighs.

Gabriel, in response, pulled his lips back from his teeth and honest to god snarled at him. He hunched his back, arms sullenly around his chest, protecting the swollen pecs. They looked full. Ripe. Jack’s mouth watered at the sight and he wondered why the hell Gabriel was being an obtuse little shit this time.

Sometimes, Gabriel didn’t need any reason, unfortunately.

“Come,” he says again, the smile from his face and his voice, eyes stern. Gabriel sneers back, the look in his eyes feverish and hateful before something changes and he practically squirms on the spot – suddenly shy.

The explosion of the base had damaged more than just his body. He was a volatile mix  that Jack was too addicted to let go.

When he comes over, he does so with the air of a kicked puppy; slides into his lap with eyes big and brown – just like the nipples he offers up sweetly; holds one right in front of his waiting, greedy mouth.

“That’s better,” Jack rumbles. He can already smell the milk through Gabriel’s skin. “Good boy,” he purrs and holds him close; lets him carefully place his whole weight onto Jack’s thighs while he noses his way close; acquaints himself with those lovely tits again by licking the fat, swollen nipples before gently suckling them into his mouth.

Gabriel is nearly silent above him; only harsh breaths ruffling the hair on top of Jack’s head, big, muscled arms curled around his neck in an almost choke hold.

When he finally takes a drag and the first spray of watery milk fills his mouth, both of them jerk in surprise and need. Gabriel becomes heavier and more sweet the longer Jack nurses; cooing in low, gentle Spanish, hips rocking, eagerly offering the other tit when Jack has drunk his fill from the first one.

“Sweet pet,” Jack praises him roughly, milkdrunk and sated.

“I bet that hurt good, didn’t it darling?” With Gabriel and Lúcio??

“I bet that hurt good, didn’t it, darling?” Lúcio croons, hand stroking warm and soothing across the spot he slapped once, sharp. Gabriel is restless, knees moving apart, unconsciously showing off the swell of his heavy balls between his thighs, then closing them up again to present a better canvas for Lúcio to lay into.

Truth be told, he was used to different kinds and levels of pain during scenes. Still, the sudden slap had been startling enough to have him yip like a god damn dog.

“Can you settle down better now?” Lúcio asks, one hand still cupping the tingling spot on the back of his thigh, the other firm and grounding on his neck – keeping him down where he was lying across Lúcio’s lap.

He’d been petulant again; throwing himself ill-tempered across the boy’s lap after he’d been asked a few times, thinking this was fucking stupid. He was towering across the kid and wouldn’t even really fit on his lap. It would look ridiculous, he would look ridiculous – and he was deathly allergic against getting made fun of.

Lúcio had taken his weight without complain and had let him squirm around, dig elbows into his sides and huff in exaggerated annoyance for about five minutes before the slap had come; sudden and unexpected and startling him into a marble-like stillness.

“Again?” Lúcio asks softly, the hand on the nape of Gabriel’s neck moving, sliding down the slope of his back before returning and gripping him again when Gabriel made a low, grunting sound of distress. “Shh. I got you. You want it again?”

Gabriel grunts. Lifts his ass. His face burns in embarrassment and he hates it. He hates that he feels so dumb and ridiculous and that tears are stinging at his eyelids from just one little baby slap. He’s had harder. A lot harder. He’s had things this little boy could never –

“You need to tell me with words. Do you want one more?”

He bites his lip bloody before exchanging it for the fabric of Lúcio’s bermuda shorts. (Always the same ridiculous fucking shorts.) Lúcio let him and waited patiently for his answer.

Gabriel finally caves, spitting out his answer like a curse.

“Yes. Please. Fuck.” He curses just for good measure. Lúcio chuckles and lifts his hand again.

“Good boy.”