I know you're all about the sub hog (and I thank you for that) but I've been curious to see how you'd do sub rat and how you'd handle their differences?? Congrats on the 500 well deserved <3
500 Followers 500-word drabble rewardJunkrat whined and thrashed within his restraints in frustration. He didn’t think he could take any more. There were an all-consuming darkness and muffled vibrations of his own vocal chords trying to convey noise but gagged, blindfolded and fitted with noise canceling headphones as he was, he couldn’t see, hear or communicate with his environment. Neither could he touch anything or move, for that matter. A straight jacket held him firmly with thick straps and buckles. Stirrups spread his legs apart and exposed his bare lower half to whoever was in the vicinity.
Rationally, he knew it was only Roadhog, but the bondage paraphernalia aided in the fantasy of being on display for any and all. Junkers never showed submission. It was likely to get you killed. So to be so helpless, and not be aware of his surroundings, and exposed in such an intimate fashion? It felt dangerous and wrong, and quite honestly he’d never been so hard in his entire life.
That being said, it was still absolute torture to be handicapped so thoroughly. He’d spent a lot of his time, resources and effort in designing and creating his prostheses so that he wouldn’t be hindered by his missing limbs. Nothing held him back. Nothing could tame him. Except for Roadhog. Junkrat both hated and loved him for it. The man’s imposing silence wound Junkrat up higher than any substance he could get his hands on, but Roadhog kept him steady. He restrained him tightly enough that Junkrat wouldn’t just explode and fly apart.
Junkrat trusted the man with his life. Not just in the sense that he had hired him as his bodyguard, but in the way that Rat felt like Hog was his compliment. Everything that he lacked for, Hog carried in abundance and vice versa. They balanced one another. They depended on one another. They belonged to one another. This, whatever this was that they did only when they were truly alone, was just another extension of that. He didn’t know how else to explain it.
Vibrations were about the only thing Junkrat could pick up on, aside from the heat of the air mixed with the chill of the metal medical bed he was reclined in. There were heavy ones that paced around him, occasionally tugging on his straps but never touching him directly. All manner of objects touched him (Wartenburg wheels, TENS unit, ice, lit matches, etc.) over the course of an hour. Even with the vibrations of what he assumed were footsteps, he never knew when something would make contact or in how many places. The brief tickle of a flame at the back of his thigh while a prickly wheel glided along his quivering stomach. Everything gave him chills and made the hair on his entire body stand up.
The game only would come to end once a heavy hand or hot mouth enveloped his prick. It never took more than a handful of seconds. He was too raw, too starved for real touch, too hyper-aware and too sensitive.
If the bondage kept him from scattering to the four corners of the outback, then the orgasms he was allowed gave him a small relief of that pent-up chaos. Even then Roadhog didn’t let him go to pieces. As soon as his breathing slowed back down Roadhog would release him slowly from his restraints. “Okay?” he’d grunt. And Junkrat would nod and they’d spend the rest of the night with Junkrat curled tightly around Roadhog. Because that’s when Hog was liable to fall apart, haunted by the actions he’d made along his life. They were fifty-fifty in everything, so Junkrat took his turn and held his partner together. Give and take was how they worked, how all relationships worked, no matter how different they appeared.
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