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Jesse McCree is nervous.

It’s uncharacteristic, but Captain Amari—Ana—has always made him nervous. From the moment he first laid eyes on her, in the shooting gallery only a month after he’d been brought in to Blackwatch, she’d simultaneously intimidated and enthralled him. Something about her cool confidence, about the sharp, almost predatory gaze she levelled him with—he would do anything for her, no questions asked. He had loved her from the moment he saw her.

He loves her now. He wouldn’t be here, in this absurd situation, otherwise, with two of the people he cared most about in the world and whom he had thought he killed, hunting down the rogue third. Maybe if he didn’t love her so much, the betrayal wouldn’t have hurt so badly. His grief is more terrible than that for a lost limb.

Their relationship is still tenuous. Jesse is still hurting and Ana knows well enough to give him the space he needs to process it; he’s never been very good with emotions. Which is why it comes as such a shock when Ana presses the keycard for a motel room into his hand and tells him that there will be a surprise waiting for him that evening.

They never stayed at motels. They don’t have the funds, for one, and it would draw too much attention to them, for the other. Jesse is a wanted man, and Jack and Ana are supposed to be dead—the last thing they want is a paper trail. He finds out later, from Jack, that the safe-house they were supposed to be using had been compromised and they didn’t have any other choice. They had splurged on two rooms; one for Ana and Jesse, Jack noted dryly, and one for himself.

Jack wasn’t stupid; he knew what they’d be getting up to, alone together for the first time in weeks. He just wished he wouldn’t be right next door.

(Jesse flushed indignantly at that and did his best to play it off with a grin.)

And so Jesse finds himself in a dingy little motel room on a lumpy mattress, patiently awaiting Ana’s arrival and her promised surprise. Ana loves surprises, but Jesse isn’t a fan. In his experience, they have only ever been bad, but he trusts Ana, so he folds his hands in his lap and tries to stop his foot from tapping.

He startles when the door opens and Ana steps inside. Jumping to his feet, he clutches his hat to his heart. Her duffel is slung over her shoulder, which Jesse eyes suspiciously, but before he even opens his mouth to greet her, she’s smirking at him.

“You’re nervous.”

And, as always, she sees right through him. Jesse feels himself flush. “You don’t trust me?” she continues, dropping the bag unceremoniously to the floor.

“No, it ain’t—” Jesse pauses, takes a deep breath. “I do. Wouldn’t be here, otherwise.”

Ana seems to be satisfied with that answer. She squats to open the bag, rifle through it. When she finds what she’s looking for, she stands again and holds it out to him, a brow quirked.

Jesse doesn’t quite comprehend what he’s seeing at first. Then, with a rush, he realises.


It’s a dildo, decently sized and pink in colour, attached to a complicated looking harness. A strap-on. He doesn’t move to take it like Ana seems to want him to, so she shrugs and sets it on the dresser before beginning to undress. She does so matter-of-factly, neither making a show of it nor drawing it out for Jesse’s pleasure, and Jesse doesn’t manage to tear his eyes away from the toy until she’s halfway through.

He’s been fucked before, sure—more times than he can count—but never by a woman, and, most importantly, not by this woman. It had never even occurred to him before, but suddenly he wants this more than anything in the entire fucking world. He wants Ana to ruin him.

He can’t seem to verbalise this, though, which goes to show how stunned he really is; Jesse has always been a smooth talker, knowing exactly the right thing to say at the right moment. But Ana has him speechless—and knows it, if her grin is anything to go by. She folds her clothes neatly and places them in a pile on the dresser next to the strap-on.

“Please,” Jesse manages to get out, and Ana’s face softens, if only slightly.

“Of course, darling,” she replies and moves to stand between his legs. She takes his face between her hands and he leans into the touch like a pup. His own hand comes up to trace the curve of her body, and he looks at her now, properly.

She’s aged a lot over the last five years. Her skin has begun to lose its elasticity, wrinkling and creasing beneath Jesse’s hand. Her breasts had already begun to sag after breastfeeding, but they hang long now, streaked with silvery stretch marks. Her hair cascades over her shoulders, a silver-grey waterfall, and the colour is mirrored between her legs. But, Christ—she’s the most beautiful thing Jesse McCree has ever laid eyes on, and it takes his breath away every time.

Ana’s nails rake lightly through his beard as she stoops to kiss him. Sweet and slow but dominated entirely by her; Jesse opens himself to her wholly. He places himself in her very capable hands, gives over every ounce of control. Ana takes it in her stride. When she pulls back, her eyes are dark.

“Undress for me, Jesse,” she says softly, but the command is undeniable, “and get on your hands and knees.”

He rushes to obey, fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, so much so that Ana closes her own hands around his to help, as if to calm him, which it does. Her cool gaze bores into him.

“Now, listen,” she continues as Jesse manages to strip off the rest of his clothes without any additional help. “I expect you to be very good for me tonight. And if you’re very good, you will get a reward.”

Jesse swallows. Isn’t this a reward enough?

He doesn’t reply, instead arranging himself on the bed as she had ordered, baring himself fully. His dick hangs between his legs, already half hard with the anticipation of it. Ana hums approvingly. He feels the bed dip as she settles herself behind him. Her touch is electric.

She smooths her hands over his ass and down his hairy thighs, spreading them further apart until the position becomes uncomfortable, but Jesse weathers it with only a grunt. He peers over his shoulder at her, regal in the gloom. She has produced a bottle of lube from somewhere. Jesse hesitates.

“Have you done this before?” he asks and Ana arches a perfect brow.

“Yes,” she replies coolly, “Have you?”

Jesse shuts his mouth and drops his head onto the pillow. He starts when cool, slick fingers circle his entrance teasingly, before being replaced by something much hotter, and Jesse gasps as Ana places open-mouthed kisses to his asshole. He can’t help pressing back against her, but as suddenly as the wonderful, wet heat had appeared, it’s taken away.

“Keep still,” Ana orders, and takes the opportunity to slide one long finger inside him.

It’s slow but unyielding, Ana easing her way inside and again kissing at the sensitive flesh around it. Jesse sighs, relaxing into the dull burn of being opened up, the radiating pleasure of Ana’s mouth. She fingers him slowly and easily, in and out with a practised twist of her wrist, and then her tongue is sliding in alongside her finger and Jesse is muffling his moan into the pillow.

She licks at his insides, tasting him, taking him apart. Her mouth seals around his rim to suckle at this most intimate part of him and again Jesse presses back into the pleasure, unable to help himself, and again Ana withdraws it, though this time she leaves a stinging slap across his asscheek. Jesse jolts in surprise.


There is an edge of coolness to Ana’s voice, one that suggests she’s losing patience with him, so Jesse resolves to stay perfectly still as Ana continues to stretch him. She slips a second finger in, and a third, and by the time she’s pulled out, Jesse’s thighs are trembling with the effort of holding himself up and his dick, now completely hard, dribbles precome into the sheets.

He’s already so far gone, taken apart at the seams by Ana’s fingers, that as soon as her touch leaves him, he lets out a long, anguished groan.

“Please, Ana, sugar,” he begs as she stands up and moves to the dresser. Somehow, she retains the aloof, unaffected grace that drives Jesse wild. “Please fuck me. I need it so fuckin’ bad, I feel like I’m gonna… explode if you don’t.”

Ana doesn’t answer at first, dutifully strapping the harness to her body until she stands before him, bare-breasted, with a thick pink cock hanging between her legs. A thick pink cock that’s about to be inside him. Ana bends so she can place a single kiss against Jesse’s forehead, murmuring, “You’re sweet,” before resuming her position on the bed behind him. Jesse’s entire body is strung tight with anticipation.

He’s listening to her lubing the dildo behind him when a thought strikes him—and the impact of it is like a full body blow. Is this one of Ana’s dildos? Has Ana fucked herself on it before, just like she’s about to fuck him? Dizzily, Jesse thinks that he might come from that thought alone, but then Ana is touching him again, taking hold of his waist, and Jesse takes several deep, steadying breaths. He needs to keep it together.

“You remember what I said about being good?” she asks, and the blunt head of the dildo nudges between his cheeks. The breath Jesse had taken abandons him in a huff. Then she presses in slowly—oh so very slowly—and the cock slides in, swallowed up by his body. The initial burn of it is good, grounding him, and it slowly subsides until he’s left with only a delicious fullness. Ana doesn’t stop until her hips are flush with his ass and she is seated fully inside him, stretching him wide.

It’s good—really good. Jesse hasn’t been fucked in so long and he hadn’t realised how badly he needed it. How badly he needed to be taken, ruthlessly, in the exact opposite way to the way Ana is fucking him now. She’s pulling out shallowly before sliding back in, as if to get a feel for fucking him and it’s nowhere near enough—but Jesse remembers the promise Ana made to him and forces himself to remain silent, biting back the whimper that catches in his throat. He can be good.

Gradually, Ana begins to pull out further, inch by inch, until she’s fucking him in earnest, but she’s still so slow. Pleasure courses through Jesse, slow and sweet like molasses, and his dick aches insistently between his legs. Perhaps she’s worried about hurting him, taking it slow and careful until she’s sure that Jesse can handle it—or maybe she’s intentionally drawing it out to make him suffer. Ana has always been kind of a sadist. Either way, he can’t bear it.

“More—please, Ana.” It’s broken and shameless and it must have an effect because Ana tightens her hold on him and thrusts deeper, harder.

And then, abruptly, Ana leans forward. Jesse has a half second to wonder what she can possibly be doing, before he feels her fingers close on the hair at the nape of his neck and she yanks, hard. A yell is torn from his throat by the force of her hold and his spine arches backwards to alleviate the strain. He has to brace himself against the wall in this new position, and it hurts, but it also drives Ana deeper inside him and she fucks him harder.

It also angles her just right, so she can strike his prostate.

The pleasure of it is all-consuming. He can feel it shooting through his body like a bullet. He moans, the breath punched out of him with every thrust, his entire body rigid with the pain-pleasure of her fucking.

Somewhere behind him, Ana starts to talk. She sounds a long way away at first, but Jesse wants to hear what it is she’s saying—needs to. He breathes as deeply as he can and focuses on her words. They come to him in time.

“Jesse… Just look at you…” Though reverent, Ana sounds entirely unaffected by proceedings, which only makes Jesse burn hotter. He tries to reply, but all that comes out is a breathy, strangled sound. Ana continues, as if she can’t help herself. “Look at how your back curves,” and she’s sliding her free hand up the line of his spine; Jesse shudders under the touch. “Beautiful.”

Ana’s hand trails fire over his flank, along his hip bone and between his thighs. Her touch lingers just shy of where Jesse oh-so-desperately needs it.

“Do you deserve to come, Jesse?”

It takes him by surprise. Jesse doesn’t know the right answer and he isn’t coherent enough to determine it. He responds in the only way he knows how.

“Please let me come.” His throat feels like sandpaper. “Feels so fuckin’ good, darlin’, but it’s not enough. I need more . Please. Please. Please—”

He’s interrupted by a gratified gasp when—finally!—Ana closes her hand around his long-neglected dick. She strokes him in time with her thrusts, and Jesse can’t possibly last long, not like this. It feels so good; better than he ever could have imagined.

Behind him, Ana hasn’t stopped talking. “You’re such a good boy for me, Jesse. You’ve always been a good boy for me. Even when you were trying to tear Gabriel’s throat out, you always came to heel for me. I’ve always loved that about you.”

The praise doesn’t feel real. It’s something that Jesse has dreamed of ever since his days in Blackwatch, but Ana has never been willing to offer more than a few succinct compliments. Now, it feels as though Ana is pouring her praise into his body, as if she’s opening herself up like he has opened for her.

Jesse feels his balls tighten and, suddenly, the knot in his belly releases and he comes over Ana’s hand. She fucks him through it, onto her cock and into her hand, and his orgasm hits him like a truck; his knees buckle, but Ana takes his weight, lowers him onto the bed. She plasters herself to his back, pressing kisses against sweat-slick skin.

“So good,” she murmurs. “So perfect. All for me.”

It’s not until Jesse begins to come down, revelling in the afterglow, that he realises he’s crying. He sniffles, wiping his face onto the pillowcase while Ana carefully pulls out. He winces. If she notices, either the crying or the wince, she doesn’t say anything and Jesse is grateful. She moves off the bed and he hears her fiddling with the harness.

When he finally regains the strength to flip over onto his back, he finds her looking at him, the strap-on removed from her body and dropped to the floor. The darkness in her eyes hasn’t been extinguished yet and, with a thrill, Jesse remembers that she hasn’t come yet. It’s a service he is more than happy to provide. Jesse begins to sit up, but is stopped by a hand on his chest that pushes him back into the mattress. Very deliberately, Ana climbs on top of him, straddling his hairy thighs and crawling up; up over his crotch, his stomach, his chest, until she is hovering above him, so close that Jesse can smell her musk. He swallows.

“Are you ready for your reward?” Ana asks and, without waiting for an answer, she sits squarely on his face.