6th Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 2nd Fill

Soldier76/Zenyatta/Lúcio – voyeurism; blackmail; frottage; fantasizing – Soldier has to go to yoga and hates it… until he doesn’t.

be aware that Soldier is a gross old man in this and a macho to boot 🙂

Jack could feel the tension melting away. He’s hated that his doctor thought yoga would be the best option for him (he’s a goddamn man!) but right now he’s never been as relaxed as standing just behind the locker room doors after the last class and peeking through the small gap at the two instructors in the adjacent changing room.

The same two instructors he’s had a hard-on for since starting this fucking torture.

God, but they are tasty; one tall and sleek, the other shorter and stocky; both gorgeous and cute and doing their thing in tight, revealing clothes. Tight enough that Jack knows the shape of their soft, cute cocks.

Tight enough that Jack has found himself fantasizing of pulling one of them closer by their hips and sucking a wet spot through the thin fabric until he can slurp their pre-cum through the elastic.

They’re flexible; nice little boys for him to bend however he wants them to be and show them how a real man’s cock feels.

His hand is around his dick, squeezing, thumb playing with his foreskin as he watches the two of them kiss. Little soft smacking sounds accentuated by their throaty thighs as they grope at each other; Zenyatta slow, almost dreamy, and Lúcio more needy. Grabbing for the other’s small ass and pulling him close until Zenyatta has to go up onto the balls of his feet and break the suckling little kiss to let his head fall back and sigh towards the ceiling.

Jack nearly strangles his goddamn cock when Lúcio starts tugging at their clothes and just about manages to hook his thumb into his waistband and pull it down until it sits just beneath his balls. He does the same to Zenyatta, and Jack doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to think of anything but herding them against a wall and keeping them pinned while he sucks them down until they bump into the back of his throat.

It would be easy now, too, wouldn’t it? He’s got them in his hand, after all. Can keep them nice and in line with the knowledge of their secret little tryst. Have them perform for him privately; let them contort and show off their young, supple bodies.

Have them service him with their plump little mouths… He’s sure they’d love getting a big fat cock like his for once. A real man to service; instead of their flowery, sweet little make-out sessions…

They do look lovely together, though. Moving and humping and grabbing at each other; needy but obviously well used to the other’s body.

As he watches, Zenyatta rucks Lúcio’s shirt up until it is tucked beneath his armpits and stretched across his wide chest. Damn, but the guy is stocky. Looks like he could take a good, deep dicking without complaining too much.

Jack squeezes at the tip of his cock and hisses at the sharp pain when he is too harsh. He gentles himself down; forces himself to take deep, steadying breaths as he peers into the changing room again; watches Zenyatta sit down on one of the benches since he is so much taller than his friend, and hum soft and happy when he’s level with Lúcio’s chest.

Jack swallows hard; wonders how it would feel having them nurse on his chest like Zenyatta is doing for Lúcio now; looking so content gently biting at the tight brown nipples, one hand lovingly cupping the cock that’s been bouncing unattended in the air.

Maybe he’ll let them perform for him like that. Sit down and record them as Lúcio fucks Zenyatta, or Zenyatta rabbit humps between Lúcio’s thighs. Maybe he’ll let them wear their tight clothes and get needy and desperate when they can’t get at each other like they want to.

God, there are so many possibilities…

2nd Batch Ko-Fi Prompts – 1st Fill

Hanzo/Castle Guards; Genji watching ~670 words

Genji is clutching at one of the beams he is crouched next to in the rafters. He had been expecting to find his brother here, today – but not like this.

One of the men ringing him puts his head back, face twisting. Genji’s aural sensors pick up on the small, repressed grunt as the guard comes in thick little spurts across Hanzo’s wrist and against the palm of his hand.

Hanzo’s fingers only tighten around the cock, squeezing, milking, obviously loath to let him go while another steps in front of him and grabs roughly at the small ponytail he is sporting, lifting his head and pulling his eager mouth across the new, waiting dick.

It’s been going like this for a while now; someone stepping away and someone new – or recharged – stepping in, but Hanzo doesn’t look like he is anywhere close to done. His face is lax, eyes half-closed – as docile and relaxed looking as Genji has ever seen him.

He looks like he’s about to play sleepy kitten and lean his forehead against he guard’s belly while he gets throat fucked, and the man – seemingly coming to the same conclusion – rips at the handful of hair and barks at him to “Keep it up, slut!”.

Someone steps in from behind, and Genji shifts when Hanzo gurgles around the cock spreading his throat open as another dick gets rammed into his well-used ass, cunt as sloppy and wet and eager around the new intruder as his mouth is.

“Never thought I’d see this again,” one of the guards pipes up suddenly. Genji shudders, softly padded fingertips digging deep into the wooden beam he leans against. The man using Hanzo’s throat like a cheap fleshlight barks out a laugh and nods. He doesn’t answer, though – instead, he gets a weird little expression before he pulls out a bit hasty, one hand still in Hanzo’s hair to keep him where he is because they’ve all found out he will try to suck them back in if they get their dicks just close enough.

He keeps the swollen, violently red tip just out of reach of Hanzo’s wet, swollen lips, staring down into his dazed, sweaty face as he moves his fist along the sloppy wet dick. His aim is bad, a bit jerky from his heavily heaving chest and the warm orgasm pulsing through him, but he still gets most of the mess in Hanzo’s dark hair and against his forehead, wiping the last few drops against the bridge of his nose.

“What did we say? We’ll let him go if he spreads ‘em good enough?”

“Think so, yes…”

The man fucking Hanzo’s sloppy hole cackles. He reaches down, hand grabbing at Hanzo’s ankle and pulling it up roughly to the side, making sure he holds it in a way that doesn’t allow him to rest his knee against the ground, supremely putting him off-balance as another man bullies him into giving him a handjob.

“But why should we? I mean we could keep him. Have a nice warm hole to dick whenever we want…” He lets his head fall back and takes a deep breath as he presses his hips against Hanzo’s ass, grinding deep, rotating as if he was set on getting the cum deep in his guts nice and frothy. “Fuck- the things he can do with his goddamn ass…”

Hanzo does not look particularly concerned about their bragging. In fact, he doesn’t look like he’s even heard them. He tries to keep from toppling over onto his face, panting with his tongue lolling out, spit dripping from the tip to the ground as he tries to coordinate his hand jerking off the cock sliding against his palm, as well as the new one nudging sticky and obnoxious against his cheek, making sure to wipe the wetness off against his neatly kept beard.

To be quite honest, he does not look like he would mind being kept as a living fleshlight. Genji squirms.

5th Ko-Fi Fic Prompt :)

Aight this one was a bit difficult because it was a ~600 word thing and I was given more or less free hand :’ ) so now it’s roughly double the word count but still a tad rushed but I did my best…

I was asked for housewife!Lúcio with a husband of my choosing but was given possibilities for each husband; so I kinda went and mashed 3 together which arreee:

Husband Reinhardt – (rape play) older Reinhardt has his much younger wife Lúcio who his friends tease he can’t pleasure due to Reinhardt having erectile dysfunction (can’t get it up or premature ejaculation or both!) So his friends come in to “help”

Husband Akande – (voyurism) Akande is a Very Busy and Important Man, he’s extremely rich but away from home a lot. His little wife Lúcio is bored and lonely in the huge mansion so he “entertains” his husband’s business partners like a good wife should. Good thing Akande has state of the art surveillance systems all over their home ;D

Husband Winston – (inexperienced human!Winston) newlyweds Winston is very nervous about their honeymoon, Lúcio helps his new hubby experience all the fun that can be had in a marital bed~

hope you likey^^

Akande loosens the tie around his neck while he watches. He imagines the party in the hotel’s vast entertainment room is still going on full swing, but he has been bored for a while already, thoughts drifting to his wife at home again and again until he just had to check.

He is not disappointed.

The video feed on his laptop is crystal clear, the audio perfect. He likes that he can’t change the camera angles perfectly, just switch from one to the next – it adds something more clandestine to the experience.

He’s already watched Lúcio try his damndest to get a rise out of their chauffeur; the big hulk of a man patiently letting the little slut play with his cock; long and fat and not in the mood to get hard, no matter how liberally Lúcio drools around it and scratches the wiry grey hair at the base like he’s petting a sweet animal.

It’s not the first time Lúcio has tried his luck with Reinhardt – he’s always hopeful, always diligent, as Akande knows from a vast amount of videos saved on his hard-drive – but his effort is not always crowned with success. Reinhardt is old – impressive looking, yes, but old – and there is only so much Lúcio can do.

The truly interesting part begins when both Reinhardt and Lúcio’s heads suddenly turn towards a sound that has not been picked up by the microphones, and Akande leans forward with interest, his dark eyes veritably glowing as he sees one of his new associates enter the picture: Winston.

The man is looking down, and fiddling with his briefcase. He is brilliant but awkward; Akande is unendingly amused by him. He is big, though not as big as Reinhardt, but carries himself with an air of humility that is strangely endearing. He should have known that Lúcio would be interested in him.

When he finally does look up, he freezes. Akande does not know what Lúcio has written in his little clandestine invitation, but the brilliant Doctor Winston must not have caught on to exactly what kind of outing he’s been invited to.

Akande chuckles deep in his chest and leans back, big hands falling to his slacks as he watches the little play unfold.

.o.

Doctor Winston is fire red by the time Lúcio is at him, his dark eyes flitting from Reinhardt sitting relaxed on one of the expansive couches, cock out and lying against his clothed thigh, to Mr. Ogundimu’s husband who… who…

“A-Ah I… I am…” He stares at the sweet little dress the young man is wearing. He looks delicious in it. Pretty. Unselfconscious. His hands curl around Winston’s thick wrist and tug him a step forward before he presses himself against the good Doctor’s front.

Winston can only stare, his glasses slipped down to the tip of his nose. His fingers go lax, and his briefcase falls to the floor, but nobody is paying attention.

“I am sorry,” he whispers finally, “I wasn’t aware… I m-mean… I should go…”

Lúcio is smiling up at him, all dimples and white teeth, his big brown eyes staring right into his soul as he tugs his unresisting body towards the couch.

“No, no. Stay.”

He pushes, and Winston falls heavily onto the cushion next to the older man he doesn’t know. The gentleman is huge and smiling at him genially as if nothing is amiss. Like his impressive cock isn’t still out there. Winston, who isn’t quite on the small side himself, has to make himself actively not stare.

Which means he is looking forward – right at the cleavage of Mr. Ogundimu’s husband–

“Oh dear,” he whispers, hot all over, helpless; and then Mr. Ogundimu’s husband is slipping into his lap and pulling up the little skirt of his wonderful black dress, and Winston can see his panties; pink and black and the outline of his pretty cock so very pronounced…

“I need to go,” he whispers, hands curling into helpless fists, cheeks pounding with embarrassment. He wishes he still had his briefcase to hold in front of himself like a shield.

“Nonono, please,” Lúcio murmurs, his small hands framing Winston’s cheeks, scratching through his short beard. “I am so bored… I just want to play.”

Winston makes a sound like he’s dying.

.o.

Akande is fascinated. Too fascinated to even jerk off as he watches his little wife be a slut. It is not new to him; how Lúcio invites colleagues and employees into Akande’s home to let them stuff him with their cocks until his belly is full and warm and he is purring like a well oiled engine.

Still, it never fails to rile him up; get him hot and bothered to watch them fuck his husband – his wife. Some… most… will be enchanted with Lúcio; call him sweet names and service him like he’s a pretty prince. Others will call him out for what he is; a greedy whore. A slut for cock. A needy, never-satisfied little cunt that crawls all over his husband when he’s home and goes around looking for other dicks the second he steps out and works.

It is a good arrangement; Akande has known from the beginning about it; Lúcio has not made it a secret. They both love it. They both thrive on it.

Doctor Winston, however, falls somewhat out of any of the molds.

Some are flustered and unsure, not wanting to bang their boss’ wife and risk getting fired; but they’ll get over it sooner rather than later; Lúcio makes sure of that.

Winston is jumpy from start to finish.

He does not dare touch Lúcio until his young wife grabs at those big hands with the hairy knuckles, and almost forcefully stuffs them down the front of his dress so he can feel up those lovely tits.

He seems deathly embarrassed about everything; starting from Reinhardt’s interested, amused gaze next to him, to the fact that Lúcio is so very unselfconscious in showing himself off; pulling down those sweet panties to show everybody the sleek, gorgeous length of his cock, and the soft, greedy slit he likes to stuff full of dick.

Akande hums when he sees Winston’s cock; unsurprisingly fat – the man is big and burly, after all – and shifts with anticipation of seeing it fill his wife’s hole. There is little else in the world Akande enjoys more than seeing Lúcio’s hole stretched wide on cock; the rim pouting outwards, swollen from good use and shiny with slick.

He’s never watched someone fuck as awkward as Winston. It is intriguing, to say the least.

It is probably his luck that Lúcio is such a sweet little lady; patient and docile; happy to do all the work as the good Doctor can only sit there, one hand on Lúcio’s gorgeous little tit, the other covering his eyes in shame. He is bumbling apologies the whole way through, brain seemingly stuck as he takes only peeks at the sweet thing on his lap.

He comes so quickly, too; grunts low and horrified just after a couple slow, delicious drags of Lúcio’s wet insides along his dick – and Akande hums deep in his throat, watches a close-up of the action; how he can see the fat shaft pulse inside the tight grip; how it doesn’t want to end like the good Doctor has been storing it up for months and months.

Lúcio does not look put-out by any of it. His cheeks are red like he’s been fucked for hours; his eyes feverishly glassy as he slides down, little pink tongue out to lap greedily at the Doctor’s cock while staring up into his hot, humiliated face.

Akande already knows that Winston will be one of Lúcio’s new favorite toys. That he’ll teach him how to fuck nice; how to keep going until he’s satisfied.

Reinhardt looks just as intrigued as the rest of them, his big hand on the back of Winston’s neck, gripping gentle, making him look at Lúcio tending to his cock.

Akande hums, hand finally slipping into his pants. Lúcio hasn’t come yet, after all – and the night is still young.

1st Ko-Fi Fic Prompt :)

Here’s the first fic in my list commissioned by @mujaween following this post of Genji hacking McCree’s phone to look at lewd pictures and wanting all the dirty details… got a bit carried away and it got ~2,400 words instead :’ )

“Ugh Genji… come on, you’re a good lad an’ all but I can’t…” Jesse trails off, eyes tracking the movement of the bottle Genji is slowly swaying in front of him, tantalizing as the dark liquid sloshes inside.

Genji hums, the sound a bit robotic behind his mask, and kneels down next to Jesse in a fluid, graceful motion.

“What’s the matter? Don’t like it anymore?”

Jesse’s dark eyes are pinned on the bottle. He wants it badly, Genji can tell, but he’s not yet reaching for it, cheeks going ruddy red beneath his scruffy beard as he shrugs his shoulders and tugs the brim of his hat down to shield his eyes from Genji’s unwavering stare.

“Yourbrother’sgon’beangrywithme’sall,” he slurs quick and under his breath, then adds a bit more intelligible: “Can’t be comin’ home to him stinkin’ of booze all the time.”

Genji shifts minimally, his cock feeling warm and heavy beneath the fabric of his codpiece.

“It’s just once a week,” he wheedles, “Can’t believe the big Jesse McCree is cowed by some little housewife antics.”

Jesse flinches and chokes on his spit, quickly sitting up straight from his slump on the roof of the base and eying Genji nervously… or embarrassed? Genji cocks his head, watching the color of Jesse’s face darken even more before the other suddenly thrusts his arm out and practically snatches the booze out of Genji’s hands.

“Ye’re right. ‘course you are. Just once a week – a man is allowed to enjoy himself, right?”

Genji nods sagely. “Of course he is.”

“Yeah. Yes. ‘Course he is.”

Genji slips closer, settling down next to Jesse, hands folded casually across the swell of his cock beneath the fabric, faceplate in place to shield how hot his cheeks had gotten and how glassy he knew his eyes are already.

Jesse unscrews the booze easy enough and knocks shoulders with Genji amicably, then takes a little swig.

.o.

Jesse is no alcoholic by any stretch of the imagination, but he’s cocky and trusting enough that he lets himself easily get goaded into drinking a bit more than he should.

When he starts rummaging in his serape to fish a cigar out of its depths, it is easy for Genji to nab his phone for a second, place the little chip on the back and push it back into the back pocket of Jesse’s jeans.

He then tucks out his own phone, heart beating fast with adrenalin as he selects the app he needs, watching as a new picture folder is being downloaded.

His mouth goes dry when he finally opens it up and he is presented with Jesse’s private pictures. The latest one just greets him in a tiny preview yet still makes him bite his tongue to keep quiet as he quickly taps on it.

Next to him, Jesse finally has produced the cigar and carefully clips the end, humming a little tune back in his throat. He has no idea what his silent companion is up to as the unreadable mask is directed at the screen of Genji’s phone.

A screen where he can see what he knows is McCree’s dick – fat and ruddy, with his hairy belly visible in the bottom of the frame while the rest is occupied by his very own brother, gazing up with an out-of-it expression as he suckles at the cock.

Genji shifts, free hand dropping between his thighs, grabbing at his cock as he stares mesmerized at the POV shot; how Hanzo’s perfectly groomed beard is already shiny with spit. How there are more tacky spots along his sharp cheekbones where McCree must have rubbed the tip of his cock against – or maybe even slapped Hanzo with his dick, and isn’t that a nice thought? His brother on his knees, begging for cock and getting slapped with a big ruddy dick for his trouble?

Hanzo is almost cross-eyed, staring up into the camera, his dark eyes bottomless and glassy. Needy. There is a bulge in the left side of his cheek where Jesse has pushed his dick into, and Genji wants that so badly he almost feels nauseous.

When he sees the date of the picture, he wants to sob. Last night. Last night Jesse got to fuck his brother; had him on his dick like a cheap whore and made pictures of him sucking his dick – and Genji… Genji has been in his room, grunt fucking his fist against the mattress and imagining it was Hanzo; sloppy and used and just as slutty as he always imagines Hanzo will be.

“Had a good night yesterday? You were gone pretty quick.” He can’t stop staring at the stretch of Hanzo’s lips around a cock, or the metal of McCree’s arm, fingers curled unforgivingly in Hanzo’s hair – ready to pull him down on the dick and use him as a fleshlight.

Jesse grunts noncommittally, then seems to think a bit more on it, eyes squinting into the dark sky as he recollects what he’s been up to – then the corner of his mouth ticks up.

“Yeah. Somethin’ like that. Was good.”

Genji can see that. His eyes are glued to the screen, thumb unwilling to swipe to the next picture. The longer he watches, the more details he can see; like the fact that Hanzo is wearing make-up; subtle but there, the sharp, dark line around his eyes a bit muddied by unshed tears.

God, Genji wants that. Wants to fuck his brother so good he cries.

“Yes? Did you have fun?”

Jesse chuckles, rolling the lit cigar into the corner of his mouth and leaning back against the wall, cocky and satisfied.

“Yep. Had some good wholesome fun with… uh…” He starts to realize with whom he is talking about whom and clears his throat awkwardly, finishing his sentence a bit lame with: “Yeah. Had fun.”

Genji is not deterred. His belly is on fire and his cock is spitting pre-cum against the tight fabric of his codpiece.

“Did my brother save a horse, cowboy?” His voice falls short miles of playful. It is rough and low. It becomes difficult to speak with the mask on, his breath hot and thick until he lifts his mildly shaking hand and unlatches it.

Jesse is quiet for a bit, taking a swig of the booze. He eyes Genji’s face which has to be as flushed as he feels, his hand curled around his phone so tightly that the case creaks.

“Shit,” Jesse murmurs, his cheeks taking on another deep, warm glow. He scratches at the back of his head, not looking at Genji who directs his gaze back down, swipes to the next picture and whimpers very quietly in the back of his throat.

“Yeah… s… s’pose so,” Jesse mutters next to him as Genji stares at his brother in a black dress that almost looks like a maid uniform but does not quite. There are pink slips of fabric everywhere; a silky band around his waist, and a laceline of it along the hem of the skirt. His hair is bound with a pink ribbon as well, though not all of it. It looks more artful like this and less like a necessity, and as he stares at it, something connects in his mind and he swipes back to the first picture and – there it is. The pink little slip of silk just barely visible in the black mess of Hanzo’s hair.

Genji lifts his free hand unthinkingly, biting at it to keep quiet; keep himself from slipping his dick out in front of McCree and fucking it, thinking of his big, serious brother wearing a little dress for his man just yesterday. His tits look fantastic in it, too; his torso is too broad, making the fabric strain, and giving his pecs a plush, full look – like they are perfectly capable to being fucked good.

He thinks back on his little housewife comment earlier and McCree’s weird reaction to it. He closes his eyes and breathes in deeply through his nose.

Jesse is still not looking at him. He seems embarrassed and Genji can’t even fathom it when just yesterday he’s had Hanzo in a dress sucking his dick.

“You definitely pulled the stick out of his ass,” Genji murmurs. Jesse is startled into a laugh, his voice sounding a bit hysterical when he answers: “Don’t know ‘bout that one. If anything I replaced it with somethin’ else.”

Then he takes another quick swig, his face looking pinched – like he is chastising himself for speaking like that, though Genji does not know whether it is because he is talking like that about his lover or because he is talking like that in front of his lover’s brother.

Or maybe both.

Genji pushes on to the next picture and becomes very quiet, staring at it as Jesse mutters under his breath, holding the bottle of booze to his chest like a shield.

Genji feels like crying as he stares at a picture of his brother’s ass. Hanzo seems to be kneeling on a bed or something, bracing himself on his shoulders so his hands are free to reach down and spread his cheeks apart for Jesse’s – Genji’s – viewing pleasure. There is black fabric bunched around his waist, probably of the same damn dress, skirt flipped up to let his lover fuck him and cream his hole; his hole that is flushed an irritated red from usage, loose and wet, obviously freshly dicked as it is still gaping buttery soft, with a thick drip of cum slowly oozing out of it.

Jesse is shifting restlessly next to him; has been for a while now, in fact – both of them quiet for a long time as Genji has been absorbed in the picture of his brother’s fucked-out cunt, and Jesse thinking… whatever.

When Genji glances over, he can see the bulge of his dick. Jesse’s always said that booze made him horny, and thinking of his brother behaving like a cockslut obviously only makes matters worse.

Genji swallows but his throat is still dry.

“How is it?” he asks. Jesse eyes him out of the corner of his eye, then grunts. “How’s what.”

Genji licks his lips, stares down at the screen of his phone, eyes tracking the red gape of Hanzo’s sloppy hole.

“How is it to fuck my brother.”

Jesse goes very still next to him, and for a moment Genji thinks this is it – Jesse will stand and walk away and never talk to him again. He won’t go telling Hanzo, that’s not who Jesse is, but he will definitely not stand for Hanzo’s brother to-

Jesse pushes his hat far down above his eyes until Genji can only see the ruddy red of his cheeks – so very similar to the color of his fat, hard dick when it slips into his brother’s used holes – and the line of his lips clamped tightly around his cigar.

He’s not gone yet, and Genji… Genji has to know. He’s going crazy having these pictures at his disposal; knowing that Hanzo willingly let himself get photographed like this-

“Jesse,” he rasps, leaning forward a bit, hand between his thighs, slipping the codpiece to the side to let his dick at the cool night air, wet with pre-cum and flexing with the need to come. “How is it to fuck my brother. Is he good on your cock? Does he feel nice?”

“Fuck yeah he does,” Jesse grunts, voice wrecked; so deep Genji can barely understand what he’s saying. “Can take me any time of the fucking week; anywhere I want. He’s so hungry for it; can’t fucking keep up with him most o’ the time.”

Jesse pinches the cigar between two fingers to keep it from falling to the floor, his mouth open and wet as he pants, hand on his dick similar to Genji though he has not yet pulled it out.

He sounds haunted; like he has to confide; like he’s been dying to for an eternity and the knowledge of how lewd Hanzo actually is is keeping him up at night.

Genji is jerking off openly now, staring at Jesse. He leans forward, pushes his hat back. He needs to see his eyes; how he looks like a man on a chase. Jesse flinches back a bit, licks his lips, glances at Genji’s face, then at his dick, out and wet and flushed an angry red.

“Shit,” he whispers, then a bit louder once more: “Shit.”

He closes his eyes, swallows, then opens them once again. Stares Genji straight in the eyes.

“He feels like he’s gonna keep your dick for good when you fuck him. He doesn’t wanna let you move but begs for it like a cat in heat. He’ll scratch you up for pullin’ out, an’ for pushin’ in. Pretends like he doesn’t want dick like he needs it to live and gets crazy for it a second later.”

He’s got his cock out now as well, both of them panting, staring at each other jerking off. Genji imagines it; Hanzo acting like a man possessed, howling like a goddamn cat for dick, to get fucked, but not wanting it to move as well.

Jesse curses under his breath, lets his head fall back, hips flexing into his fist. Genji closes his eyes and bites his lips; tries to imagine his brother’s hole on his cock; silky and wet and so very well fucked.

“He’s trained like a seasoned whore,” Jesse suddenly continues, hoarse. Genji bites his tongue. “Can take anything you give ‘im. Loves to be slapped around a bit. Wants to be fucked like a slut and acts like one, too. I-”

Jesse looks almost pained, his fist looking like he’s strangling his dick. “I wanna get him to a gas station sometime. Have him dolled up and ready for use. Watch him get dicked by the truckers. He’d love it, too.”

Genji has trouble swallowing, his tongue hanging out like a dog, cock aching.

“I want him,” he rasps, returning Jesse’s startled gaze, the sound of them jerking off slick and lewd in the cool air. “I want to fuck my big brother, Jesse.”

They stare at each other as they come, cheeks dark red and breaths puffing out, but an understanding between them that makes Genji feel nauseatingly hopeful.

(You can tip me here if you like 🙂 )

For the anon that wanted doomfist publicly humiliating someone, what about reaper… But in front of Jesse who reaper has been domming tf out of for months so it adds to his humiliation for Jesse too see him like that but he can’t help holding his cheeks open for Akande’s fingers or dick begging so sweetly for it, in front of a room full of people

Anonymous said: “Just thinking about Gabe being all bitchy when trying to sub until Doomfist just gets fet up and grabs Gabe’s balls and gives them a nice long squeeze. Suddenly, Gabe is a lot more cooperative.”

He’s been on his better behavior the past weeks, but this time around there’s a distinct restlessness to be felt. He doesn’t want to lie still, doesn’t want to stop growling, doesn’t listen – and Akande’s only explanation for it is the new pair of eyes on him; Jesse McCree’s mouth dropped open as he stars, cheeks a dull brick red beneath his scruff.

Gabriel had been docile enough with just Widowmaker and Sombra around to watch his degradation – he had learned to accept their gazes on him; one cool and disinterested in his pained little grunts as he got deep dicked, the other very much gloating and intrigued.

The new set of eyes, however, makes him skittish like a young horse; even Akande’s rough, big hand harshly at the back of his neck doesn’t make him stop squirming, and complaining.

“Not in front of the ingrate,” he hisses, voice hoarse, ass clenching; squeezing down, trying to force the meaty cock out of the clinging passage after Akande had so much trouble cramming it in there.

McCree’s dark eyes flinch at the insult, but he wisely keeps quiet; his arms are cuffed behind his back; his jeans are tenting prominently beneath the heavy buckle of his belt.

He is more than interested in the proceedings, even standing between his two captors. Widow looks annoyed, her sharp nails drumming against the desk just centimeters from Reaper’s head. She wants to get the report over with, dump the cowboy in a cell and go do whatever she does for leisure.

“You’re not in charge here,” Akande reminds him mildly. He angles his hips forward, tries to press more into the spasming, tight ring of muscle. It does not quite work. He roughly takes Gabriel’s hands and yanks them back; places them on the generous, meaty cheeks of his fat ass.

“Spread.”

Gabriel snarls like an animal. He does not as he is told, and his eyes are fixated on McCree like he wants to rip his eyes out for looking. Akande feels like there is something going on here that he is not quite privy of – but he will find out soon enough. After he’s shown Gabriel who has the upper hand.

It is not difficult to let his hand jerk down below, fingers curling mean and harsh around the heavy, swinging sac of his testicles, but the reaction is instantaneous and gratifying: Gabriel choking on his won spit and going stock still, back arched, insides trembling.

Sombra cackles.

“Bull doesn’t like to be grabbed by the balls, hm?” she coos, but a gaze from Akande makes her shut up quickly, the gloating grin vanishing from her face. She looks away. A pack member acknowledging the leader’s dominance.

McCree is still staring, eyes glassy, pants tenting. Akande thinks he can almost see a wet patch forming in the front.

He squeezes the warm weight in his fist and pulls. Gabriel whines high and pathetic before he can tamp down on it. He goes up to the balls of his feet, then very quickly reverts, hips dipping, hunching down, trying to follow the mean pull on his heavy, plump sac.

Akande keeps pulling, dick inside the clenching hole, but not satisfied with the depth yet; there is a lot left out that he could still cram inside.

“I said spread. Or I’m gonna see what I can do to those big balls you’re so proud of.”

There’s not another peep of protest as Gabriel scrambles to grab his ass, spreading it open; making the swollen rim of his hole stretch around Akande’s cock for him to start fucking inside deeper.

“Good boy,” Akande murmurs, finally letting go of his testicles and patting his leg like he would a dog’s head.

His dark eyes lift to McCree’s vacant face, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Very well. I’ve not gotten to welcome our newest guest yet…”

cyber, i have this scene i can’t get out of my head. doomfist fucks reaper from behind in his quarters and there’s a knock on the door. doomfist doesn’t hesitate when he tells them to come in and widow and sombra come in giving him mission updates all the while gabe is being fucked relentlessly and they all just ignore it and discuss the mission

“Yes. Come in.”

Gabriel scrabbles at the desk, talons scraping, trying to rear up – but Akande nips that in the bud with a large, unrelenting hand between his shoulder blades and the other at the back of his head, pressing him down easily and slamming his forehead against the surface for good measure.

It is a good maneuver: Gabriel’s insides ripple around his cock, tight and shivery.

“I did not give you permission to move,” he says calmly, unimpressed by Gabriel’s low gurgle of pain.

Sombra is eyeing the exchange with interest, her lips curled into a derisive smirk that Akande keeps in mind for later. Widow just stares straight ahead, face impassive. A little bored, even.

“We have new information regarding Volskaya.”

“Proceed.”

He listens tentatively, head lowered, watching his cock appear and disappear as he takes up fucking Gabriel once more. It is wet whenever it drags out of the clutch of Reaper’s cunt, pulling the swollen muscle of his rim out with it; making it pout obscenely before shoving back in.

Gabriel is still gurgling; though this time for completely different reasons. He is searingly hot inside, muscles rippling and squeezing; not able to acclimate to the sheer girth and length inside him.

He’s never been able to get used to it, come to think of it.

Doomfist’s head come up, eyes narrowing at Widowmaker. “Volskaya never behaves erratically.”

“We believe her to be following orders from a third, as of yet undisclosed party.”

Akande gnashes his teeth, anger making his hips loose; he picks up his pace; starts really fucking into Gabriel – and even though Reaper is as sturdy as they come, he has to scrabble to keep his place atop Akande’s desk.

Each sharp thrust that crams his cock back into the protesting, swollen insides, Gabriel cries out. It had to be burning something fierce on his stretched rim and the thought gives Akande enough satisfaction to slow down once more.

Now Widow is looking down at Gabriel as well; face still impassive except for a thin eyebrow pulled up.

Gabriel is slumping against the polished surface of the desk; he looks defeated. Akande can see him drooling against the wood as he grips his broad, round hips and lifts him minimally for a better angle.

Gabriel whines like a mutt when the new position changes everything.

Sombra, because she is nosy, leans to the side to watch the way Gabriel’s cock hangs and bounces between his thighs; heavy, swollen to bursting; looking overstuffed and painful.

Doomfist ignores her; he’ll remember later, though. Have to think about it properly when he doesn’t have Gabriel on his cock and Volskaya on his mind.

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

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

*shifty af eyes*

why not….. both….

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kid knew how good recruits got rewarded.

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

“Good boy.”

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

.o.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.o.

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

But this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You like my best recruit, Morrison?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ana/McCree. Young McCree is Ana’s kept boy. He eats her out with his hands held dutifully behind his back while she drinks tea and idly pets/praises/commands him. If you want Gabe to be there too, sharing a cup, I wouldn’t be opposed.

“How did training go?”

“Satisfying, I suppose. They all hit the mark, at least.”

Ana watches Gabriel over the rim of her cup, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she watches him take a sip, fingers curled around the warm porcelain because he felt stupid properly holding it between his big fingers.

It still looked cute in his large, dark hand, against the backdrop of his unamused face, hoodie pulled deep into his eyes.

She leaned farther back and closed her eyes, sighing softly as Jesse used her new position to nudge in farther beneath her skirt, tongue warm and soft as he was lapping eagerly through her folds with renewed enthusiasm.

Reyes’ gaze slid down, watching the shaggy back of the recruit’s head as he nuzzled in, bumping his nose against Ana’s clit and getting his scruffy little beard sticky with her juices.

“How’s that training going?” he asks, nodding towards him.

Ana grins and lifts one lovely, dark leg to drape it across Jesse’s shoulder, the fingers of her free hand carding through his tangled hair to tug and then decisively pull him back.

“Goes rather well,” she purrs, voice smokey. She uses her grip to turn Jesse around, intentionally flashing her swollen, naked cunt at Gabriel who looked indecisive for a second what to stare at – Ana’s lovely pussy or Jesse’s sticky face, eyes glazed over and slanted back towards his prize.

“If only he were as focused doin’ his fuckin’ workouts as he is eating pussy,” Reyes rumbles. Ana laughs at him – a little breathless after letting go of McCree and he surges back beneath her skirt with renewed vigor.

She can’t help but cup her breast, squeezing it and pinching one erect nipple through the fabric of her dark blouse. Gabriel doesn’t complain about it – just as she figured.

bless you and that anon who were talking about roadhog/reaper because holy shit it’s been on my mind. Rutledge being rude and manhandling Reaper like a ragdoll so he can feel him up, admire his body or get him into whatever position he feels like. Jack’s off to the side thinking someone’s about to die- it’s Gabriel and you can’t just throw him around like that. until he realizes Gabe’s grinning because he never gets it like this, he’s loving it, and he wants a rude fuck so bad he can’t stand it

Jack can’t help but think that he had the best luck once his sleepy brain had caught up with the situation at hand: namely Rutledge fucking Gabriel on one of the couches in the rec room, deep dicking him into the cushions with powerful thrusts that were accompanied by low, earthy grunts.

He was almost sure Gabriel would have told him about the encounter (would have gloated how much cock he still got apart from Jack’s, purring at him how hard he came on other dicks, goading him into trying harder) but seeing it for himself was infinitely better.

He couldn’t keep from staring at Gabriel’s feet in the air; how big they were and how almost fucking dainty the looked now with Rutledge’s meaty fists curled around the ankles, keeping Reaper’s legs in the air and spread wide. He was helpless, scrabbling at the cushions, shirt rucked up into his armpits, taking Hog’s thrusts like a doll.

He wondered how it could’ve come to this. He’s left Gabriel watching some shitty TV show, feeling his age catching up with him and going to bed early – only to come back to this.

“You’re a lazy fuck,” Roadhog accused, hips stilling. His belly was looking ridiculously huge between Gabriel’s thighs; the smooth, tattooed expense rubbing against Reaper’s sweaty abs. Jack could just about see the swollen head of Gabriel’s cock peek out, smashed between their bellies. Everything looked slick and shiny.

“Yeah?” Gabriel sounded breathy. Almost simpering. Jack’s mouth ran dry, feet moving him closer. He saw the snout of Rutledge’s mask tilt in his direction for a moment but the huge man didn’t say anything to acknowledge him.

“Morrison spoiled the shit outta you. Couldn’t get a penny for a lazy whore like you. Get your ass up, c’mon.”

The last was accompanied with Hog letting go of Gabriel’s legs and stepping away, big cock sliding out with a wet, obscene sound. Jack’s sharp inhale got drowned out by Reaper’s whine and mad scramble to turn around, forcing his loose limbs into obedience. The thick muscles in his thighs were quivering, his dark eyes huge and sightless in a way Jack hadn’t seen yet.

Mako didn’t bother sliding back in right away. Rather, he stood for a while longer, huge fist around his cock, slowly jerking off while admiring the sight of Gabriel’s broad shoulders and wide hips. From the back, he was almost obscenely curvy.

Mako felt him up with one hand; the give of his ass and hardness of his thighs; the sweaty expanse of his belly. Jack watched as two thick fingers slide beneath the rucked up shirt and tug sharply at the sweaty hair under his arm, until Gabriel was squirming and biting into the cushion on the back of the couch.

He didn’t protest; probably was afraid Rutledge wouldn’t fuck him if he made too much of a fuss, and Jack wanted to know Mako’s secret.

“You’re so beautiful, all spread out like this, just for me.” With McHanzo, either regular or your Mob Boss AU, God bless

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

Genji wasn’t there to hear him coo, and Hanzo made the most out of it. The dog was shivering against the wooden cross, drooling around his bit and glancing towards the dark window across from him with an uncharacteristically shy flush.

“You figured it already out, didn’t you?” Hanzo reaches out, plucks at the piercing through one dark nipple and watches McCree’s cock lift obediently; filling out even though he squirms and whines into the gag in vague protest. “Of course you did. You have those screens in America as well.”

He slants a gaze towards the dark mirror behind which a few of his guards stand; watching him play with his pet. He reaches down and curls a hand around McCree’s swelling cock; lifts it so they can appraise the meaty girth and length of it; then reaches even farther and lifts the dark, ripe balls beneath. Shows him off like the dog he is.

“You don’t need to fret. They only get to watch. I want to show off how obedient Americans can be…”

He glances up at McCree; still so young beneath the deceptive scruff of his beard.

His eyes are huge and wet, flicking towards the window again and again, teeth grit into the bit Hanzo so likes to see him in.

Hanzo reaches up, plucks at the ample chest hair, idly cards his fingers through for the viewing benefit of his guards, then steps to the side and turns his back towards the dark mirror, face tilting up towards McCree, lips softening from their cruel twist into a more fond smile.

“You want to show them how pretty you are for me, don’t you?” he purrs, and pinches McCree’s foreskin closed around the swelling head of his dick when the dog nods slowly, eyes going heavy lidded and needy even though he tries to twist his hips away and shield his body from the gazes he could probably feel.

“Good dog.”