2nd Drabble of August (Patreon)

Hanzo/Roadhog – Just the Tip; Drunk Sex – Hanzo thinks he can get away with being bratty. Roadhog shows him that not everything has to go how the Shimada heir wants it.

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Roadhog’s gut is so massive, it is difficult to get at his cock straining beneath the heavy swell… but that is no reason for Hanzo, drunk and uninhibited, to at least try it anyway. He shoves his way between thick thighs, tears spontaneously shooting into his eyes from the thick musk of an unwashed cock and the sudden, belly aching need to have it inside him five minutes ago, preferably.

His mouth is open, saliva already pooling, ready to give the fat head a good, loving bath with his tongue, when Mako’s meaty fist finds his hair and uses it to pull him away roughly and without care.

Hanzo is a mess; flushed a blotchy red from too much alcohol, eyes glassy, lips plump and glossy from having abused him while staring across the room for the past half-hour, fantasizing about doing exactly what he was about to do a few seconds ago.

Roadhog stares at him, unreadable behind his mask, and the creepiness of it all just makes Hanzo hotter for a good fuck.

He already can imagine it: lying on his back, legs spread as wide as possible to accommodate the huge man, getting grunt fucked by a cock that has roughly the dimensions of a can of coke and makes him feel a bit faint to think about.

What he gets instead, is Roadhog laboriously getting to his short, fat legs, still easily towering above the archer, and turning him around by the grip he has on his hair.

Hanzo grunts, too drunk and uncoordinated to do anything against being bend over across the back of the couch, going almost face to face with a loudly snoring Reinhardt that is sleeping off his own intoxication.

He would have preferred being on his back. He likes the filthiness of spreading his legs for something as low as one of the Junkers who probably quite literally crawled out of the gutter, but this’ll do as well. Anything, as long as he’ll get that cock that is promising to open him up until he’s ruined for all eternity.

What he gets in the end, when Mako’s fat fingers had pulled his pants down to knee level and he’s managed to deposit his belly on Hanzo’s back, is the eye-watering, mind-numbing stretch of the fat tip prying him open near dry, but nothing of the fullness of a real, good, deep fuck.

“Oh God… At least give me…” He can’t finish the thought. Mako’s huge hand is on the back of his head, keeping him down, hips basically hooked over the back of the couch and ass up.

Roadhog hasn’t said a word until now, and he still keeps his quiet, other than his slow, laborious breathing, air filtered through the emotionless mask he’s wearing. He pulls back, then, and Hanzo nearly sobs, thinks Finally only for Roadhog to veritably pop the thick tip back in – and nothing else.

Hanzo is biting at his own sleeve, tears of frustration and need almost falling down his cheeks as he gets fucked unbearably slow, at a positively glacial pace by just the tip.

He gets the burn and mind-bending stretch, but nothing of the delicious fullness that he craves deep in his gut.

There’s not much he can do; Mako’s belly is pinning him down, after all. He realizes sloppily while his cock is dragging against the back of the couch, dutifully hard and drooling despite Hanzo’s petulant thoughts, that Mako must be a lot more intelligent and calculating than Hanzo ever gave him credit for.