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struckd0wn · 7 months

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I'll Make You Mine ── Hanzo Shimada

Hanzo Shimada × ftm!reader

CW: mentions of noncon (not w/ Hanzo), Hanzo leads Shimada Clan AU, sex slave, reader had top surgery, clit and cunt used as describing anatomy, he's gentle :3, mention of scars and bruising from previous experiences,

A/N: this lowkey drags on so mb, also dk if I hate it or like it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You were on your way to the Master's room, nervous and shaky as two women led you there. They had retrieved you at his request. First they took you to the bathhouse, pampering you with soft hands, making sure to not miss a single spot. The two scrubbed and washed your hair, almost relaxed if it weren't for your nerves. The bath was filled with cherry blossom soap, probably made with the trees just outside the Shimada castle. After, they dried you off promptly before adorning you in a plush robe that came down just below you knees.

You had been in the castle for a little over a month now, having been captured by the Shimada clansmen. You had gotten yourself stuck in business you had no need to be in and it led you here. You were supposed to be dead, and maybe you would have preferred to be. Instead they kept you in a room, by yourself, to be used by the men of the castle for their pleasure. They were rough, you deserved it according to them. They had spared you so you owed them, and you payed with you body, and although you were greatful at first you didn't care much for it now. The ladies of the clan would come by twice a day with food, which you would eat with bound hands and the door locked at all times. You weren't bathed, simply wiped down with a damp rag after every use.

Word about you had gotten around fast, in your first week you were visited more times than you could count, and now he wanted to see you. You never met Hanzo truly, only seeing him in passing or hearing about him from the clans members. But he had never stopped to see you, you wondered if he even knew about you, and here you were on your way to his private bedroom.

You'd better behave, one of the women would tell you. He's the Master, you cannot upset him. The more and more they warned you, the more and more tense you got. But you couldn't turn back now, standing right outside what you assumed was his bedroom door.

"Master Shimada, he is ready for you." The other woman chimed out, giving you a worried look before sliding the door open. You stood there, completely silent as you took in the scene in front of you.

His room was boring. A futon, low to the floor on a short wooden frame, pushed head side to the wall. Next to the bed was a nightstand, similar to the one in your room, that housed a small bonsai tree. He sat with his back turned to the three of you. The sliding doors in front of him opened to reveal a private garden, dark but lit with small lanterns, the curtains blowing gently in the crisp summer wind. Next to him on the floor was an incense stick, the smoke wafting through the room almost creating a fog. He wore his typical blue, only this time a yukata, one shoulder uncovered to reveal his tattoo, his hair down and draping over his shoulders.

The clans woman pushed you into the doorway, causing you to stumble slightly as the door shut behind you. You stood there awkwardly, fidgeting with your robe. "Sit." He speaks out, holding a hand out twords the futon. You flinch before rushing over to kneel on the bedding. You again wait, watching as he lifts the incense stick, blowing it out and tapping the ash into it's holder. The wind feels cold on you collar bone were the robe doesn't cover but you don't say anything. He turns slowly, looking at you for the first time. Your face feels warm and you try to prepare yourself for whatever might happen.

Hanzo stands up, walking twords you. You can't help but admit he is a very attractive man, much better than the clansman that would bed you every night. You avoid his eyes, gaze wandering to his tattoo that spans across his exposed chest and left arm. The Master sits in front of you, looking you in the eye. "I will stop... If you want me to." His voice is soft but raspy and you're surprised at the suggestion. No one had given you the option before. You nod your head a little at this and he continues.

The bigger man leans forward, gently pushing you at the chest to lay down. Your nerves are at their peak, staring up at the clans leader. He rest himself between your legs, pulling you so your legs rest on his thighs. The man in blue is silent the whole time and you almost wish he'd say something, or at least direct you so you do him no wrong. Hanzo's large hands find you thighs below the robe, pushing the fabric up to see.

You busy yourself with looking at the ceiling. His hands rub the fat of you thighs, one hand stops, and his thumb pushes down over one of the many bruises. You hiss out in pain and your hand flies down to grab at the Master's wrist before you can even think about. Panic. "Sir! I'm sorry, I didn't-" your words are cut off shorts as he flips his hand in yours, instead taking your wrist. But it's not angry, he holds it softly in his own. His eyes fall onto the ring of red on your wrist where your hands were bound together. Tutting his lips, Hanzo leans down to press a kiss to the bruise on your thigh, then to your injured wrist. You stare down at him in awe.

"If I was aware they were hurting you, I wouldn't have let this go on for so long," He admits to you. "You do as they ask and they are still greedy." Hanzo's voice is sad, disappointed in his followers for your poor treatment. Even if you had gotten into their business, you were serving your "duties" yet they still found time to disrespected you.

He drops your hand, continuing up to the bow that held you robe together. The man watches your reaction as you gulp heavily, but he persists, unraveling the tie and letting the robe fall off your front. He doesn't make efforts to take it off of you entirely, his hand moving up to hold you at your plush hips. He squeezes at you love handles with a small smile, taking you all in with one look. You refuse to meet his eye but Hanzo doesn't object, his right hand sliding down to your crotch and the other to you chest. One thumb strokes the scarred flesh of your pectorals and the other finds your clit, applying a pressure that makes you squirm.

Hanzo is completely enamored by you. Robe half off, skin glowing under the moonlight that shines in from the still open door to the garden. You hide your face from him but you can't hide the moans that escape you and the way your hips move to chase his touch. It's the first time someone had stopped to touch you how you wanted. He wasn't just taking, also giving as he rubs you to near explosion, just watching you wiggle below him, indulging in your sounds.

Life as a clans leader was lonely, the Master didn't have time for relationships outside of business so this within itself was a treat. He had heard about you, his clansman weren't discrete about you, not at all. But the thought weighed heavy in his mind about having you for a night, and he wasn't regretting it now that he had you.

You feel your peak nearing but the man doesn't allow it for a second, pulling his hands away. You let out a deprived whine but he's to busy now, moving his yukata out of the way to reveal his hard cock underneath. "Don't worry, you'll get your fill soon enough." Is his response to your whining. He stroked himself with a low rumble before running his tip through your folds. You take this time to finally look at him, as now he was to busy to notice.

His face was serious yet relaxed. Hanzo was a fit guy, you traced around his muscles with your eyes, watching as the tattoo formed around them perfectly. You wanted to see more, so feeling a little daring you reached out twords him. Your finger hooks under the fabric of his obi, the band of fabric that held the yukata together. Tugging very gently at it, this gets his attention. The Masters eyes find your finger, then your eyes. Hanzo smiles sweety down at you, using both of his own hands to remove the obi. After, he shrugs the yukata off his other shoulder, fully revealing himself to you.

Before you can look for another second. He pushes his tip into you, your head rolling back against the pillow. Hanzo moves slowly, pushing inward with his hips and it doesn't take long before the two of you are connected at the base. The man's large hands find your hips again and he uses them for leverage as he pulls out painfully slow. He watches every expression, listening to every noise you make.

He begins to move faster, thrusting into you with a pace that makes you head go foggy. The drag of his cock as he pulls out is almost teasing you before he slams back in. You can't help but get a bit louder now, but he can't either. Your moans are sweet and his are ragged, grunting over you eagerly. Hanzo leans over to kiss you, lips connecting to yours, moving slowly as he swallows each whine that comes from you. The feeling excites him, he grips tighter on your hips, fucking you deeper into the mattress below. His lips move down to kiss your jaw, then neck, his ear positioned near you mouth. You're loud, but he doesn't care. You smell like the trees that surround his home, his castle. You're soft and lovely to handle, not to mention how good you felt. By the minute Hanzo grew more and more obsessed with you, beyond the point of sex, he found himself wanting to know you.

"I am drunk on you," He admits out loud. You just barley process it, but you are truly flattered. By now he's entirely wrapped around you. His large arms wrap around your middle as he ruts into you endlessly. "My senses are full of you, I can't get enough of the way you feel, how you look, how you moan for me. I imagine you taste just as perfect, " Hanzo confesses. "I bet they say the same thing, but who wouldn't. You're beautiful." He continues on thrusting into you faster than before, the coil in your stomach on the verge of snapping. The thing is, they didn't say the same things. To the others you were just a good fuck for whenever they needed. You wondered how they could be so relentless and brutal but their leader is wrapped around you and desperately telling you how amazing you are.

Hanzo pulls the two of you upwards, now sitting on his thighs as he fucks upwards into you. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and your head leans down to rest on your bicep. He watches as you barley have the energy anymore, the two of you growing more tired, but your end is fastly approaching. "I won't let them treat you badly anymore. You're mine, I want to know you. I want to treat you nicely, but only if you allow me." Hanzo tells you, and if feels nice to have a choice, nice to feel wanted instead of being constantly degraded. You whine in response, and finally you feel yourself snap.

Your orgasms is strong and you tense in his arms before fully letting go. You moan his name as you wrap around him tighter. His breathing is harsh and he's still pushing into you eagerly, the feeling of you realising over his cock is to much as your walls flutter over him and soon enough he's finishing too. Hanzo groans loudly, hissing in pleasure as he cums inside of you, gently fucking into your sweet pussy. He pulls out slowly, your legs and his waist are covered in your combined slick. You relish in the feeling for as long as you can, having been the first orgasm to come purely from pleasure to happen for a while. The man leaves you, and you wondered if he'd just leave you there to be picked up, after everything he had said. He's back before you know it, back at your side with a glass of water and a rag.

After he cleans you he lays beside you, facing you. It's all a bit awkward now, but you're to tired to care. "I meant what I said..." His voice is quite, but you hear him. "I've seen you. I've overhead you and my maids talking and I grew interested in you. I thought maybe you wouldn't want to see the leader of the clan that is keeping you here." He tells you, his hands move to brush the hair out of your face. "I really didn't know they were hurting you and for that I am sorry. If you'd let me... I'd love to make it up to you." The wind picks up a bit outside, but the air is warm. The moon is shining in onto the two of you, it illuminates his face with it's serious expression.

"I'd like that..." You whisper back, closing your eyes to fall asleep.

#hanzo shimada #overwatch hanzo #smut #fluff #ftm reader #trans reader #overwatch #bottom male reader #transmasc reader

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mxeve0 · 29 days

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How I Think OW Boys Would Be In Bed

Includes - Genji, Hanzo, Cassidy, Soldier, Reaper, Junkrat, Lucio, Lifeweaver

Warnings - 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI, choking, spanking, degrading, hair pulling, bondage, body worship

Genji

☆He is a boob guy. Period. This man will do anything and everything to see/touch them.

☆This man is SOFT. He'd never be too harsh unless you asked for it, and even then he'd still be gentle.

☆Trying to explain kinks to him was painful. Poor guy couldn't understand why you'd WANT to be choked.

☆He would definitely talk you through it, and throw in praises here and there, especially during your first couple of times.

☆Speaking of, during your first time he let you take the reins; he didn't want to accidentally push your boundaries.

☆Favours any position where he can see your face.

☆Is usually quite quiet, but some groans and small whines slip when he's close.

☆It took him a while to get comfortable with asking you to do things and he still prioritises your pleasure over his. He also rarely ever asks you to be intimate, he'd rather let you initiate it.

☆Aftercare GOD. This man is waiting in your hand and foot, ready to get you anything and everything to make you feel more comfortable.

Hanzo

⛧Ass guy, all the way. He will gladly use it as a pillow any time he can, and his hand is on it in some way, shape, or form 24/7.

⛧He's inexperienced to say the least. He never really bothered with anything sexual growing up, so his first few times were sloppy until he found his rhythm... literally and mentally.

⛧Now he spends time figuring out his kinks, though he's too scared about being too rough with you in case he hurts you.

⛧Doesn't like to talk much during it; he just doesn't know what to say without being weird. Might occasionally throw in some praise/degradation depending on what you're into.

⛧The one thing he doesn't feel bad about is leaving marks on your ass from slapping it. He actually finds it quite attractive but he'd never admit that.

⛧Actually has a pretty high sex drive, but he ignores it until you initiate it as he doesn't want to seem desperate.

⛧He prefers being slow and gentle with you over being rough because he knows he won't accidentally hurt you or go too far. Also prefers you to take charge for the same reasons.

⛧Basic bitch, his favourite position is missionary; he loves holding your hand above your head. But he doesn't mind doggy-style, after all your ass is facing him.

⛧Doesn't like having a safe word because he doesn't think he'd ever take you to the point of using it, but he understands why you have it.

⛧Never quite understands how aftercare works but will always get whatever you ask of him.

Cassidy

◇This man loves everything. He simply cannot pick a favourite. He changes it every time you ask him.

◇Now he KNOWS what he's doing. He knows exactly what turns you on and how to do it You could even be on the other side of the room and he could just look at you in a certain way and you'd be wet.

◇This man wants you all the time. All hours of the night and day, he doesn't even care where. Honestly sometimes he doesn't even want to have sex, he just wants his dick inside you. If he had no shame he'd just fuck you in the middle of a street, and the more he thinks about that, the more it turns him on.

◇Rough af. But he knows you can handle it and he knows your limits. He's subconsciously cocky because he knows he's good, especially when he's topping.

◇He doesn't even mind being a bottom, though he prefers being on top, but his hands are glued to your hips when he is.

◇When he is topping, he prefers missionary. He loves seeing the mascara running down your face with his hand wrapped around your neck.

◇Even though he's rough, he knows your limits. It would kill him if he ever hurt you for the sake of his own pleasure.

◇He can kinda be a dick sometimes; loves to tease you, maybe a little too much, and then degrading you when you start to beg.

◇Just because he's rough doesn't mean he's bad at aftercare. He loves running you a warm bath and carrying you bridal-style to it, and giving you massages whilst you sit in the water.

Soldier

♡Thighs. Chicken thighs and yours; a true American. His hand is resting on them constantly.

♡This guy does not know his kinks, nor does he want to know them. You'd have to BEG for him to even think about trying anything out and even then it would be minimal. He knows how to have sex and that's enough for him.

♡You'd think he wouldn't know any other positions, but sometimes he whips out the mating press and reminds you that he's not THAT old.

♡Has a pretty low sex drive but will do it anyways if that's what you want. But he would rather be caught dead than be a bottom, and that he stands by.

♡He's never really rough enough for you to need proper aftercare, but he'll still provide you with whatever you ask for.

Reaper

ꕥLoves your neck. More than anything. He loves that he could place hickeys there that you could cover up, only for the pair of you to know about, or for you to show to the world, to display his ownership over you.

ꕥDuring your first time he realised he'd have to teach you quite a bit. Watching you put the things he taught you into action turns him on more than he could've guessed.

ꕥHe was gentle at first, whilst you were both discovering your kinks and boundaries, but he quickly dropped that facade as you became more comfortable with each other. He quickly made it clear that he liked watching you squirm beneath him, begging him for something, anything.

ꕥLOVES doggy-style, with one hand on your hip and the other pulling your hair. Has to have a mirror in front of you though so he can see your face.

ꕥHates being a bottom, the only way it would happen would be if you were 69-ing.

ꕥLoves eating you out and leaving claw marks from his gloves on your inner thighs.

ꕥMakes you pleasure him sometimes before he even touches you in a sensual way. He just has a power kink that's all.

ꕥLikes to push boundaries, but he's also afraid of hurting you, so he asks how far he can go beforehand.

ꕥAdores seeing you tied up, unable to move. Sometimes he'll tie you up before he leaves for somewhere so you can be a present for him to come back to. And sometimes he'll leave you there when he's done with you.

ꕥIt's a 50/50 on whether or not he'll give you proper aftercare. If he's been quite aggressive then he'll probably run you a bath and bring you food, but otherwise it's up to you.

Junkrat

☄Loves EVERYTHING. Whatever this goober can get his hands on. And he LOVES giving you kisses everywhere just to show how much he loves your entire body.

☄He isn't even kinky, he's just horny beyond belief. Although he has no idea what he's doing, but he's doing his best nonetheless. But he would literally have sex with you anywhere anytime.

☄Bottom. Obviously. Likes to be a brat about it and test your patience though. Acts like he hates when you tease him but it turns him on even more, especially if you belittle him for being 'such a good sub'.

☄When he is topping he has no sense of rhythm or speed and you're usually guiding him anyway. Mainly only tops when you don't particularly feel like doing anything or when you're on your 100th round because this guy has NO stamina limit.

☄Loves biting you (with consent ofc) and leaving marks everywhere, especially hickies for other people to see.

☄Whiney. This guy is the whiniest man you'll ever meet. And he doesn't shut up either. Not in a 'talking you through it way' but more of her won't shut up about how good it feels and how lucky he is.

☄LOVES to eat you out. Begs everyday for you to let him so he can feel you squirm under his mouth.

☄Always tires you out afterwards so he tries to look after you...to the best of his abilities. It's the effort that counts right.

Lucio

♬BOOBIES. Loves 'em. He could look at them for hours, he just thinks they compliment your figure so well. Loves buying you low cut things to show them off and refuses to accept any negativity about them.

♬Refuses any negativity about your body in general tbh. He genuinely thinks you're the most beautiful person on this planet and gets upset when you don't agree.

♬Loves taking it slow with you, and praising you for how well your doing.

♬Favours doggy style because he loves placing kisses all over your body, but he also likes lotus position because he likes to sandwich his face between your tits.

♬Secretly loves being restrained and teased himself but wouldn't tell you at first because he thought it was embarrassing.

♬Not super vocal but when he does make noises it's usually little whines or moans, especially when he's close.

♬Loves aftercare. Honestly sometimes he'll have sex with you just to have a reason to look after you extra well afterwards, not that he needs a reason.

Lifeweaver

❀Thigh guy most definitely. Loves squeezing them and honestly the thicker the better.

❀Prefers eating you out over ANYTHING. Just prefers giving you pleasure in general. He'll put off giving into his own desires for so long to please you that he forgets about them.

❀Hates asking for blowjobs or anything that's one sided; he thinks it's unfair and rude to even ask you if it.

❀Adores the rest of your body as well as the thighs and will not shut up about how perfect you are, every. damn. time.

❀Loves doing it in cowgirl position but he hates the fact that you have to put in the effort, so usually he holds you still whilst he does all the work. Likes it because he can see your entire body up close.

❀Has a high sex drive but again puts it off if it's obvious you're not in the mood. Though sometimes he'll try and get you in the mood, which usually works.

❀Not a super kinky guy, but he doesn't mind some spanking and hair pulling every now and then. However he does always feel a little bad afterwards. He also likes using his metal hand to tease you with the coldness of it.

❀Loves giving you aftercare and uses his bio-light if you're feeling drained. Gives you kisses everywhere and fills a bath with rose petals and candles.

◇─◇──◇──────────◇──◇─◇

a/n: omg I love them so much eeee

#smut #overwatch #genji ow #overwatch genji #genji overwatch #hanzo shimada #overwatch hanzo #cole cassidy #cassidy ow #soldier 76 #reaper overwatch #junkrat #lucio overwatch #Lifeweaver #overwatch smut

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pumpkin-pi-e · 1 year

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Yanderes Aizawa, Hanzo, McCree, and Toji like to pretend you don't know what your clit is for.

I Ain't As Good As I Once Was

“This is your pussy. This is your pretty little pussy. You might have touched her before, but I’ll teach you how to spoil her.”

God, I love sad older men.

Content Warnings: forced cunnilingus (female receiving), overstimulation (female), c*mming in pants, fingering, kidnapping themes, self-flagellation (Hanzo), worship (Hanzo), dirty talk, mommy kink (Toji), implied gambling addiction, your implied age is -26 (Toji), Age gap, neglect on account of gambling addiction, breeding kink, pregnancy talk, (Toji) forced pregnancy? (Toji), dubious consent (Toji)

Not recommended for those under eighteen.

You try and touch yourself to show that you know how to make yourself cum. You've been doing this for years.

Aizawa

Aizawa swats your hand. No, no. You won't do it properly. You won't do it until you shake, cry, and run down your thighs. But he will. He won't overstimulate you if you don't want him to. He will work you through your orgasm, though. No matter how much you claw, beg, and squirm. You'd wanted to get off, and Aizawa will ensure you get every last bit out of this. He'll make sure you come in his mouth, make sure your cum slides down his chin. No matter how angry you are at yourself. No matter how hurt you feel. He can be tender—can make those thighs burn and those tits jiggle in a way you can't. "This is your clit, sweet girl. I'm gonna make it purr for you."

The last remains of his words drive into your ears as his mouth finds yours. The finger in your panties swept back and forth over the smooth, leathery skin of your clit the way a slow tide would swathe and flee a shoreline.

"Nn!" Fizzy pleasure bloomed in warm, scattered waves throughout your pelvis. You twitch forward the slightest amount, subtly humping yourself into a breathy, whining mess. "'s not a cat."

Aizawa draws a lazy circle around its sensitive edges, and your thoughts water.

"It can't—" Ah! "—caaan't purr." Your voice curled. It rose and wavered like a tilde symbol—building high and going all melted butter toward the end as you lurch into the wonderful crest of good he inspired. Your hips obeyed the spasms in your tummy and curled without decision or thought.

"It already is." It's practically vibrating. Singing.

"Can't you feel her purring?" Aizawa made the most agonizing, thigh-shuddering passes over your clit. You arch, arch (uhn, God!), arrrrrrrch into each one. Your clit is ringing, purring.

"Kitty's melting in my hand." She's really showing out for attention, wetting and trickling down his palm. Your small cravings are his responsibility, as were all your larger needs. He's your provider and caretaker. You rely on him for everything else, so why not this? When are you going to learn that Daddy does it better? He can satisfy them better than you ever could.

"Don't—don't call it that."

"But it purrs."

Oh! Oh, oh! It—it—oh, please, god, oh. He's using his nails, teeth, whatever he has. Aizawa sucks a bruise right into your neck. You shiver, squeal, and wriggle. How could a neck be this sensitive?

Aizawa doesn't budge. His heart thumps as you push at him, half-hearted. Enamored with any short amount of contact, Aizawa hums. You twist away from that, too, the sensation foreign on your skin. Aizawa takes a deep huff of your neck (your scent) and falls onto you like a dead weight. The new position traps his hand down the front of your panties and you underneath him.

"If it purrs, then it's a kitty. This cute kitty makes you a queen. And a purring queen means it's time for a litter." He's still working on you—working your clit and mons. You're soaking. You're hot. You arch into his hands, desperate, nearly out of your mind.

"Why do you have to be such a kinky bastard?"

"Because you like it." His stubble scrapes against your neck. Aizawa does it often, notably during 'quiet moments,' so you'll familiarize the sensation with safety.

Or so you suspect.

The brambly term of affection came often, but from what you gathered, it reserved itself for special occasions (you're convinced he stole it from his cats). When cramps left you withered and spent, Aizawa lifted you from the lonely little corner you'd carved for yourself underneath the kotatsu and reoriented you onto his lap for something to lean on—something to wring your grief into, should you need it. Shouta said he could take it—that he wouldn't mind—and had the scars to prove it, namely, the one beneath his eye. It was hard to argue in the face of something so tangible. Yet, it left a sour feeling of worms in your gut.

You're in pain. You don't want to be pain for someone else. You don't want to hurt him—he's never hurt you.

Just because he can doesn't mean he should.

He's pushing you forward, wanting you on your knees. "Because it gets your kitty panting."

It vibrated.

"W-who said I liked it?" Your tummy tremors and sweats as his fingers trace those hidden valleys.

"She did." Aizawa dove in for a quick, lascivious kiss. "She purred so sweetly." He lapped at your clit, hot and moist and delicious. "It must be love."

Calls your vagina 'kitty.'

He talks to it (which perturbs and delights you to no end). Cum for me, kitty. Isn't Daddy treating you nicely?

You know in your soul you aren't the 'kitty' he's referring to. Aizawa only called you kitty when you were topping. He had a habit of going into a deep mantra whenever you did. "Kitty, kitty, kitty, kitty..." Aizawa sighed under his breath, sometimes moaned, and others thinly whined as you rode him and as he watched through sexed eyes progressively getting lower and lower until they would eventually close. He'd seize shortly after. And if you didn't stop, Aizawa gasped it (half-heartedly attempting to shuffle out from under you, gently pushing at your coasting thighs with jittery palms. Outside of that, you were 'kitten.'

When she obeys, Aizawa gives her kisses and licks—so many that you'd stammer and beg him to stop. He attacks with fervor, and with your weak-kneed body, he pins you there, grunts, and gives you mouthfuls of his tongue, which leads you to beg, this time more openly.

Aizawa repeatedly kissed the top of your vulva, where your clit lay beyond its folds. Such an obedient kitty. —kiss— Such a perfect darling. So good. —kiss— So perfect.

He doesn't torture you for too long. Aizawa (generally) won't overstimulate you unless you want him to. He'll even apologize. He just had to give his kitty her due.

The guiltiest (second to Toji) in pretending you're too naive and innocent to know what your clit is for, let alone how to use it. He'll smack your hand away (reawakening memories of your father swatting your chubby little hands when they had something they shouldn't).

You can insist you know what you're doing, and he'll insist you don't.

"Feel these?" You touch your outer labia. Aizawa's hand is over yours, guiding it. "These are your pretty lips." Gummy, soft, and perfect for his teeth. He'd use them for pillows if you'd let him. You wouldn't, though. There's no way Aizawa could get close enough to smell you without getting a taste.

"They'd look prettier curing my insomnia." In other words, he's telling you to ride him until he passes out, or rather, throwing out an invitation. Your lips have erased his dry eye and lifted his depression. Simply gorgeous.

"How would I..." How could your vaginal lips cure someone's depression?

"Simple," He's against your ear. His hair gave you shivers as it fanned your neck. "You sit on my face," Together, your hands rode parted lips. They kneaded love into your skin that settled in your ovaries. "and rut." Your hips went forward with a gasp, unexpected and on cue. No matter the situation, Aizawa never failed to sound like a college professor three years away from retirement. He speaks to you as he would his colleagues and students. There is no bedroom voice, growl, or husk other than his natural warmth—warmth that made you swallow from the very lips he made you touch. Made you restless on his lap.

"If you knead them gently," he says, "they'll make you feel nice." Your knees knock when Aizawa focuses on the entrance hidden in your labia, circling it. "But not as nice as this," Aizawa pats your pussy, sending ripples through your body.

Slap!

Something liquid-warm fires across your hipbones, following a path up your spine, reminding you of when Aizawa kissed you. You call his name in a panic. What is this, and why is it delicious? Unadulterated joy tore through you like a storm in Texas-May. It stole your tongue, and the thoughts it couldn't finish—stole the bones from your body. The ache reverberating in your core was a flash-bang replacing everything but Shouta's name with bright white. It rang like a bell from the ovaries out, telling the rest of your body it was in love. It scares you. "Shouta—"

Slap!

"You're alright, pretty. You're going to be a big girl and cum, that's all."

Slap!

Oh, God.

"Intense, isn't it?" His chin sits in the crook of your neck. Aizawa watched you stutter after his hand and gently convulse.

Slap!

Your body hums like a Ford Mustang at a stop light. It lurched into each tap—tipping over the crosswalk markings in the concrete, eager and desperate for him to take you over the edge. Nervous foot on the petal, it waited for green.

"Come on, pretty girl. Almost there."

Slap!

Your thighs snap shut. Pleasure so soft and sweet spreads throughout your body. The ache becomes ecstasy, and the guilt becomes glee. It swells and sways like storm clouds in New Orleans, easily hitting your lungs and filling you with the finest summer rain.

Did you think for a second Aizawa wouldn't praise you? "Yes, kitten. Yes, kitty." He's agreeing with all your sobbed gibberish, rubbing you out because he knows you won't. His finger is hard on your clit when you buck and shimmy to escape the rush—the pleasure that won't stop knocking. Again, he won't take you past what you can handle, but you're riding that coaster to the end: no stops or pauses. You're getting every single clench, every tooth-chattering, leg-shaking, hip-raising flood of absolute 'God, yes,' that follows.

Aizawa was a decent man—was. It's wrong. It goes against every code, the oath he'd taken with the acceptance of his license. He made excuses for the inexcusable. Every day he went out and fought for freedom while ignoring yours. Swift on his legs when avenging the cries of the innocent, Shouta let yours fall on deaf ears.

Hanzo

Hnng. But forced cunnilingus. Dubcon, only because you're overstimulated, and Hanzo is stubborn. If you haven't squirted, he hasn't done his job. He had his pride as a man to uphold.

Hanzo raises your hand to his lips. He kisses it, clasps it, and restrains it to the bed. "Let me tend to you. So long as you warm my bed, you won't lift a finger." He kissed your neck and collarbone. "Not for your pleasure," Hanzo gently spread your labia. "Not for mine. This time it is for you, my queen."

A shiver runs down your spine. Your mind fills itself with visions of Hanzo taking you. He never has—claimed he could never 'defile' you. That didn't stop him from fingering your clit, drawing you to orgasm, or turning you into a mess of nerve endings.

"You are divine." You're a gift from the gods. Hanzo prayed they would keep him from succumbing to temptation, but it was useless. He had never been able to resist a challenge, and this time would be no different. His prayers didn't stop his cock from sliding against his expensive sheets, wishing it were your body his seed had coated, giving the legacy he'd spent a lifetime chasing.

His queen enjoyed testing him, denying him his duty as a husband. Why trouble yourself with matters such as these when he is so capable? He had solved many puzzles and navigated treacherous waters with ease, yet she seemed to think his skills were limited to a bow and arrow. Do you truly believe he cannot satisfy your needs?

Hanzo fondled your clitoris. "This is a husband's duty."

He moved down between your thighs.

"This is a wife's duty." He said as you whimpered. "To moan as a man pleasures you. To lie back and know your body is in his hands. To take your pleasure and offer your own." His tongue found you. You writhed against the bed, unable to stop your body's rhythm from matching his tongue's motions.

"Allow me." Hanzo touched your clit the way you'd tried to, his tongue deep in your core.

You wouldn't know the first thing about settling your body's aches. That was Hanzo's business. Your hands need only grab onto his hair when it all becomes too much for you.

Hanzo is skilled with a tongue, with a cock, with a razor-edged sword.

"Let me tend to what is mine."

Hanzo kisses your thighs, thighs that a man has never kissed. Thighs that tremble and shake so terribly you fear for your health. You can't breathe. Your heart is pounding, and you feel your mind slipping away. Colors bleed into the corner of your vision, static and buzzing like an old TV.

But Hanzo keeps kissing, licking. Your thoughts slur, and your tongue is no better.

'an...H-han.. c'n.. cn't... Your eyes roll—your back arches. Tears run into your hairline; Hanzo tightens his grip on your hand as your other one blindly scrabbles at his bedsheets. "H-han! Z-z—Oh, my God..." A wash of electricity ravaged your body. Pleasure so raw and sweet your voice croaks out hoarsely, love pouring from your lips in a flood of passionate syllables.

His grasp remains firm as you jerk into his waiting tongue. You try not to. You try and fight your body's natural curl toward the very thing bathing it in pleasure—foolish woman. Hanzo tongued harder and doubled his hold to keep you pinned throughout your cries and gurgles.

Cry for me, my Goddess, my queen, so I may worship you harder. Seek my hand if you are overwhelmed. Cling to me. I promise to be your source of strength and comfort. Security is the least of a husband's duties. Make me strive for the breath of freedom, then deny it to me all at once. Show me with cries that I am worthy, yet prove with the heat in your thighs that I am nothing.

Unable to praise you to the extent he'd like, Hanzo returned your moans from deep between your clenched thighs. He licks harder and faster, and he just isn't stopping. You deserve all this and more—to drown in your own wet and swallow hard enough to see heaven.

So beautiful. —Lick— So generous to me, my queen.

Your body is a waterfall that Hanzo would happily kneel underneath. Hanzo was no Buddhist, but he believed you could purify his wretched soul. In you, he'd find redemption. Your heat could make a blind man see. Surely, it could cleanse the stain of his past.

No matter how many passes his tongue made, you had more to give.

You scratch his sheets, and Hanzo has never been so jealous. The skin of his back tingles at the mere thought of hovering above you, thrusting into you - warm, soft, and perfect as you carve into his back and warm his ear with your crying breaths.

You can feel your breath swelling, becoming a low chant of pleasure as Hanzo continues to lap at the valley between your hips. Hanzo rewards your pussy for each hungry gulp as it comes and comes and comes by flicking his tongue over its pounding entrance. Wildly twitching, it swallowed deep and hungry—a trail of wet escaped. Hanzo licked that too.

"Can't… Hanzo, can't…." You reach out desperately for the headboard, using the bed covers to help propel you forward. When this failed, you mustered all of your strength and used your core to drive yourself forward, shoving his head with a surprising force. With each attempt, you inched closer and closer toward freedom.

His hand grabs at your waist, pulling you towards him as he licks and sucks. You can feel yourself trembling on the edge of something big—an adventure you aren't ready to take.

Hanzo watches you above your knees; he looks you in the eyes as you gasp and wheeze. You plead, and the archer licks your outer lips. Hanzo sucks your clit, hums. Your words gargle in the back of your throat.

The hand in his hair turns into a fist. Hanzo moaned.

At some point, he mumbled in your folds, snippets of "goddess" and "queen" as his hips repeatedly struck the mattress. The groans he's making have your ovaries flushing, your cunt fluttering. Hanzo's panting by the end, but he doesn't stop licking.

Hanzo, for all his dignity and grace, wants you to put him on his knees. Make him work and beg for air. Then, smother him.

Can you imagine Hanzo pinning you to the bed, claiming he's wronged you and needs to atone? You can scream that you forgive him, that it's unnecessary, but he won't accept it. What good is forgiveness if he doesn't earn it?

Or, he goes down on you before every Overwatch mission to "strengthen his mind and body" to better prepare.

"H-Hanzo. Why—" You bit your finger to keep from moaning (squirming). You don't need any bruises. Your hips still bear the thick shape of his fingers.

"Why not just—ah!—just train more?"

"You are the only meditation I need."

Hanzo’s bed once filled itself with women from all walks of Asia. Sojiro filled his bed with women from all walks of Asia. Differing accents, differing traditions. Same economic status. None of them would have been good enough for his father. The thirst for an heir may not have originally been his own, but the need still burned beneath his painted skin. The dragons grew restless, for Hanzo’s desire was their own. The dragon lord had never truly given up on his future children.

Unconsciously plays into your worship kink

Step on him

Physically a virgin, spiritually a whore

Not inexperienced, per se. The terms by which Hanzo lost his virtue weren't his own, so Hanzo ignored them.

Vanilla in theory and theory alone. Missionary, no anal. Ever. But he'd clean his spend from your 'temple' (inside and out) in gratitude and penance. First, for deeming him worthy of such a privilege. Second, for dirtying you and finishing without your consent.

He's kneeled at your feet, kissing them and offering his sacrifice.

It's all amusement and spectacle until he asks what punishment you deem suitable for his transgression.

Is he serious? You came three times in the last forty minutes.

You should be at his feet. You could never cum like that on your own.

Hanzo decides for you

You're shuffling off the bed when he reaches for his bow

He expects you to use honorifics after his name. You are his wife, and he is your husband. You must address him with respect.

Call him 'lord Hanzo' in jest, and the archer closes in on himself. Memories of a life he'd long abandoned close in on all sides. He kindly asks that you don't tease him in such ways. You know nothing of his past. Hanzo doesn't blame you for his reaction to your words; you only meant to play with him, as a wife should. Humor, and not ridicule. (Not that he thought himself undeserving of it. If a divine creature decided he needed humbling, who was he to feel any different?

Hanzo shies from titles that place him above you, "master, King, God, etc."

Jesse McCree

"Now," Jesse stood with his hands resting on his belt, the light from its buckle glinting off into your eyes and reflecting the terror you felt. His hips tilt to one side as he observes you silently. "Why doncha tell me again what you were hopin' to accomplish with them tiny little hands o' yours."

Panic flashed in your eyes because Jesse widened his stance and raised his hands.

You still scramble further up the bed.

"Nah, ya ain't in trouble," Jesse said as he removed his hat and tossed it on the side of your dresser. Always mindful of Ma's etiquette lessons, Jesse knew better than to enter a lady's room wearing his hat. Was impolite. You don't enter a lady's room 'less you come naked. "Pity she didn't teach me to knock," he added with a smile.

Confusion twisted your features. Jesse often said things that you weren't sure how to interpret.

His slow smile told you he was a man looking out after his own. It made your heart beat faster. He wasn't here to hurt you.

"Just show Uncle Jesse what you were up to 'fore I came in." He moved closer, the bed frame squeaking beneath his boots. "Lemme see what you got," he said. Jesse reached out, and you flinched.

But his hands only brushed a finger across your cheek, pushing away a strand of hair. "Ya got somethin' special in those hands," he said gently as his fingers pressed against your skin.

You become aware of the hands covering your modesty. You glance at your bare thighs out of habit when Jesse references the heat between them.

"Come on now, don't get all bashful," He said before you could try to hide under the blankets. You had a way of scurrying off like a little mole whenever he teased you too much. Shy, sweet, and gentle. He could eat you up for days.

"Show me how ya touch 'er when you're all alone."

You pull your cami over your thighs to deter those mocha-brown eyes. Jesse raised a brow that was just as dark. "Ya ain't got nothin' to hide, girl. I already seen it all." He said. Good-natured, southern charm oozed from his every sentence. Yet, you still felt like you were standing in the principal's office and caught doing something wrong.

But Jesse smiled as though what he said was meant to make you feel better. He leaned down, kissing your forehead as if it were the world's most natural thing.

"I'm… I'm loud.." Your knees draw together.

His smile was lopsided. "Good thing all the gunfire and explosions drown out hearing." He said, referencing the hearing aids he wore in his ears.

Did you think a little thing like that would ever be a problem? Bless your sweet little heart.

You weren't sure what to say. 'I'm sorry?' Would he think you're pitying him?

But he just let out a chuckle and shook his head. "Don't sweat it, sugar." A large palm ruffled your hair affectionately. "Now, why don't you show Uncle Jess what you were playin' with?" He asked again, his voice a little more playful this time.

"You..you really can't hear?" You fidgeted with the hem of your cami, not wanting to make eye contact.

His grin widened, "Not a thing." Jessie lied. "I'll even take 'em out if ya want." He started to take off his hearing aids, but you stopped him.

"No, no! That's... That's not necessary." You said quickly.

"Well, alright then." He said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"How's 'bout you let this old cowboy have that weapon yer holdin'?"

Weapon?

"Oh, she's lethal." Jesse winced playfully. "One could take out a man if it's aimed properly."

"She?" You asked, curious.

Jesse held back the brunt of his laughter. "Yer pussy, sugar. It's a she."

Your expression has him losing his composure. He had the courtesy to turn away and chuckle. The insult on your face had him in stitches.

"Well, shoot." He said after a while, finally managing to compose himself. "I ain't mean to make no fun of ya. Just thought you'd like to know your kitty got a name."

Your body ran hot, and your heart thumped against your chest. You can't believe how Jesse made you feel with just a few words and one little joke. You could see the mischievous glint in his eyes and knew he would make you squirm again.

"Respectfully, I'm gonna need to see those hands of yours." He said, that same southern gentleness in his voice like before.

Jesse whistled as your hands lifted, low and appreciative.

"I'll be damned..." You're sweet enough to top his apple pie. If he had it, Jesse would've held his hat to his chest; those thighs could carry him through the Arizona desert.

"You can take my breath away any day," Jesse said with a grin. He drank those thighs ten times over before they'd self-consciously shut. He was drunk on you as he was on moonshine.

"Hands back on your holster. Show me how you use it."

With his boot planted firmly on the mattress, brown eyes staring you down, you touched yourself. You'd jumped at the first brush of a hesitant finger against the peach fuzz clothing your mons—prickly and on its way to growing—cold fingers startling skin that hardly ever felt a temperature change. You've never been more thankful for those stubborn hairs that always grew back despite your best efforts. It offered a level of decency—privacy—during a private act made public. You map your vulva, getting a feel for it. Your legs spread as you become more comfortable with the movements and sensations that kiss you nightly when the house is sleep—as comfortable as you could be with a man like Jesse McCree looming over you.

You were very aware of him—his presence, his smell. You could feel him in your veins as you touched yourself, and he watched. He dared not move a muscle lest it scared you off.

The situation might be foreign, but the sweetness in your abdomen isn't. The toe-curling warmth made you want to rock and hum into its beautiful calm. It took the stress out of a very stressful situation. How odd to find yourself tense in the middle of your go-to stress relief.

You moved with clinical precision, not for pleasure but to show Jesse you weren't helpless. You felt like the Tin Man—joints stiff, robotic, and locking together when thoughts of what you were doing and in front of whom caught up to you. The need to defend yourself from any infantilism oiled them and kept them going. Your breath gets heavier as the pleasure builds inside of you, regardless.

Could you even cum like this?

Doubtful.

There wasn't anything too exciting about tracing up and down your lips, still wet from the 'exercise,' Jesse interrupted. Your clit still pulsed despite cologne tickling your nose like spice (or maybe because of it).

He was so close.

With the scent of tobacco and leather on his clothes, Jesse Mccree had your undivided attention. You can't look at him, but the thought of staring into those deep brown eyes while you circled your clit and cried the prettiest you could make you swallow down below. Your clit throbs, and you massage it before you can stop yourself. You play with the hood, fragile and unsure. It isn't enough, but you don't want to appear indecent. God, if only you could throw open your legs and—

"That ain't how ya do it. Touchin' 'er like that, bet you don't even know what she's called."

Of course, you do. It's a vagina. Not a 'her,' not a 'she.' You told him so.

"Aw, now. You'll hurt 'er feelings. Tell me what you call 'er, darl.'"

"It… it's my vagina." You emphasize the word 'it.'

Jesse shook his head. Shoulda knew you'd call 'er somethin' dull and childish.

"Move aside, sugar." Jesse motioned for you to stand. A cigarillo was all that was needed to complete the toothy grin as he sat, cybernetic hand hitting his thigh. "Come sit on Papa's lap. He's gon' show ya what she's for. How to touch 'er."

You stood uncertain before him, blanket held to your sex. The red fabric pooled between your legs and onto the floor.

"I don't bite, sugar." He said. It's the softest you'd ever heard him.

Your lips thin to a pensive line.

This is a bad idea. But the prospect of this man sipping you like he did his whiskey was thrilling.

You look past him toward his hat on the dresser, and the blanket drops. So do Jesse's eyes. But that grin? It stretches to something boyish, handsome, and white. He savors, just as you'd hoped; he savored himself so fully your legs ache to cross over each other. He's fixated on your vagina. You hope he can't see it swallow.

"This is your little pussy." Jesse spread you open with two fingers. You squirm on his thick thighs. He's mountainous and warm against your back; you hardly cover two-thirds of his broad chest. He must spray cologne directly on it. Woodsy Pine and Old Spice took you to a campfire with marshmallows and Southern folklore. You don't think about the chestnut hairs peeking out of his flannel. You can't. You'll die.

"This is your pretty little pussy." He rubbed your fatty, wet lips with four fingers—rough and widened in a V-shape.

Your vag—your pussy clenches, tingly.

"You may have touched 'er before," He swiped your clit side-to-side, hitting nerve endings that had you bucking on his tan, human finger. "but I'll teach you how to spoil 'er." He dipped one deep inside.

"And fill 'er up."

Your cries are as helpless as your hips as they help him fuck your pussy open. He stretches her so good you can't recall when you began referring to her as a she. You fuck yourself on his fingers until pleasure gushes from your cunt.

An involuntary gasp escapes your lips as he collects his first load in his fingers. You're there.

"You wanna cum, and I can make it happen, sugar." Jesse held you as you shook. Robotic arm slung over your waist, he let you use his finger to draw out your end. He pumped into you occasionally—lazy and matching your weakening thrusts.

"Ain't nothin' wrong with bein' greedy. Uncle Jesse will let ya have seconds if ya want 'em."

You just keep goin', doncha? You're a lil fighter—pushin' those shuddery hips forward even as you gasp and choke.

Ya weren't lyin'. Yer loud. Not in a cutesy way, either. You're raw, unapologetic.

Jesse loves it.

Nothin' worse than a woman who does all that dainty shit.

You cried so long and hard your voice tapered into a husk.

"These fingers were made for women. Made for touchin' 'em." Any internalized shame blew in the wind when Jesse used his thumb to swipe your sensitive clit. You groan like a cavewoman. Guttural, primal.

"Made for makin' 'em come. You gonna come for me again?"

You're already trembling, unable to get your tongue working as you tighten on his fingers.

"There ya go, sugar. Cum like I'm gettin' it in. Goin' six inches deep and cummin' hard on 'er lips." Jesse pumped his fingers deep again as you began panting, panicking—he was insistent on getting you off—a knot of orgasm tightened in your waist until you snapped like a whip against your backside and seized.

"Ain't nothing wrong with cryin'."

You can't stop shaking. Crying. Tears fall off your chin, and you don't know where they came from. At this moment, you're a helpless baby—wailing and hoping he understands. You need him to fuck the soul from your body. You need him to stop.

"I've got somethin' of a confession," Mccree said, his drawl thickening with each syllable. The thumb on your clit sent his words through one ear and out the other. He's knuckle-deep in your cunt and seated near your pleasure spot as he slowly curls into it. You curl with him, hot and whining.

"I may be aurally challenged, but I can still hear you, sugar." You're drooling in every figurative sense—mentally and emotionally sloshed from the pump of his heavy fingers. "Every time you whisper my name at night." He said, his tone low and warm.

Your thighs clamp around his hand.

Fiery shame swept like lava and left coals on your chest, leaving you with prickly, uncomfortable goosebumps.

Oh, now we can't have that.

You've stopped chasing his hand, chasin' that release you'd wanted so bad.

A gentleman, Jesse puts in enough work for both of you. If you aren't meetin' him, he'll have to try that much harder, won't 'e?

God, what would your family think? They'd shun you. Getting off to thoughts of your captor's big, impossibly wide hands instead of biting them.

This needs to stop.

Oh, but you can't. You're grinding on his finger again, helpless to stop. It's so good. It's too fucking good.

"That's it. Get it, sugar." Jesse starts flying in and out of your thighs. Something coughs from your throat like a drowned victim spitting up water. You grab his wrist for stability and don't make it halfway around.

"That's what I like to fuckin' see," Jesse growled.

Fuck it. You'd let him pull your panties aside and cream your pussy right there on your bed with your family in the doorway for them to see every desperate clench it made, each spasm in the base of his cock as it emptied inside their precious daughter, sister, and loved one. They could watch the conception of their grandchild and niece/nephew for all you care.

"Jesse! Oh god. Feels good!"

"Sounds even better up close." Mccree chuckled. Breathy, strained. As if it'd come through gritted teeth. His cock pressed into your ass—hard and hot. He made no attempts to relieve it.

"You come to Uncle Jesse when your pussy needs some lovin', ya hear?"

He pulled out, leaving you so, so empty.

You quickly nodded. No, no. Please put it back! He'd stopped touching your clit.

Jesse doesn't leave you empty much longer now that he has an answer. "You let ol' Jess handle it. I'll give the lil lady what she wants."

You're too damn polite. Callin' 'im 'sir.' He ain't no 'sir.' Jesse would tell you to stop if he ain't like it so much.

He pretends to hate it, gives you grief about it, but let you come 'round askin' for somethin'. Jesse stops you mid-sentence and tells you to call 'im that thing he likes.

"Come on, honey. You'll make me feel old."

Your name might as well be 'pretty.'

"C'mere, pretty. Wanna show ya somethin' real quick."

Toji Fushiguro

It's one of those days.

Toji stood in your doorway, an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth. He had a can of beer in his left hand and a race ticket in the other. You should be happy to see him. There's no milk, and your stomach could grow teeth and devour. Your heart drops instead. The paper had as many wrinkles as a white shirt straight from the dryer. Crumpled, meaning he'd lost. The one Toji wore was stretched and spent. He hadn't come home last night. A sour odor of alcohol told you why. Toji celebrated his losing streaks with bottles of sake at the bar. Usually, he'd be out looking for a job to 'make up what he lost,' as he'd always promised.

The hunt must've been unsuccessful if he had been back so soon.

Toji was bitter before he'd even come in the door. Catching you with your fingers in your pajama pants put him over the edge.

"What ya doin' touchin' what's mine?"

Toji scoffed when you continued giving him that owlish stare.

"Y'think I'm good for nothin', dont'cha." His posture remains loose and bored, his tone detached. The slip crinkled in his balled fist.

This isn't going to end well.

"Of course no—"

"You ain't gotta lie, Seven."

Toji was more superstitious than met the eye. He set you up in his home like a Maneki-Neko for good luck and fortune, laughable.

You aren't lucky. Trouble raced after you like tin cans on an exhaust pipe, with your situation to prove it.

Trouble stepped further into your room—swept across your floor like tumbleweed, kicking the ground with every slow, drunken step. Trouble knelt on your bed, knocked your plushies off to the side, and snatched your arm when you scurried.

"Y'think I'm a deadbeat." Trouble pulled you under him and ripped your pajamas off your hurling legs. His triceps bulged beneath his tee as his hips rolled into your cunt, wet and bare. He held you still to take each stubborn, mouth-watering rut. "Think I can't take care of ya anymore."

Toji's still beating the headboard into the wall as you quake around his thighs. Frantic hands tear at his upper back, tugging his shirt for him to go harder despite the worrying cracks and splinters of wood.

"'m gon' prove you wrong." Toji put his weight on his elbows and fucked you like he meant it. He'd buck forward and knock your eyes to your skull.

'God, yes,' is all you can think as he presses you into the mattress and shoves into you until you can't get air. 'More, more, more.'

"Gonna make you cum so hard you wet yourself," he growled in your ear. "Gonna make you scream and cry." And he did.

"Oh God, Toji!"

Toji rabbits at the first sign of tears. "I'm gonna fuck you right to hell."'

"Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God, oh—uhn!"

Spleck!

Your thighs squeeze and judder into his cock. Wetness dribbles past your lips regardless of how tightly you clench your legs. You cum hard—the spasms in your cunt deep and violent. So fucking slutty and messy.

"God!" The word tore from your throat in a ragged sob. Feral. Hysterical.

There's no way you should clamp this fiercely. It's been so long Toji let you tighten up. He needed to stretch you back out. This pussy should be loose and sticky always. A constant fullness to fill the pangs and help you forget your troubles.

You wanna be fucked.

You wanna be bred.

"A little girl like you don't know what you're doin'." Toji got between your thighs and licked you from slick perineum to juicy clit.

"Says you." In your head, you're pushing his face deeper into your sex, hand in his hair as you grind on his tongue. 'Show me, baby; show me. Show me what I'm too stupid to do.'

Toji eats you alive.

His fingers brush up your bum while he tongues you into orgasm. Toji piles your juices on his fingers and licks them clean, again and again.

"Lookit how excited she gets." Toji rests on his knees. The crotch of his sweatpants is a darker shade of black and damp from your sex.

"She can't quit talkin'." Spasming, spitting, and wetting.

His cock is visible, sitting on his lower left thigh, right above his knee. A footpath of the same dark shade runs down his left pant leg.

Did he cum? Did he cum just from eating you out? Was that fat, ruddy cockhead drooling over the very hint of your sex when he'd rutted against you before?

There's something so primal about him kneeling over you, your juices on his tongue, his cock jutting out so proudly, hung like a horse between your thighs. It makes you aware of just how filthy this whole act is, how raw.

You can smell yourself on him, and your legs self-consciously close.

"Still think you know how to get this pussy to clamp as she should?" Toji's voice was low and gruff.

"No." You whimpered.

"Then why the fuck are you playing with my clit?"

"I wasn't playing with it! I was just..."

"You won't even squeeze your thighs together without askin' when I'm finished," his lips close around your clit.

Toji licks every slippery skin fold and nibbles your clit until it's throbbing. You fuck his mouth with your hips, desperate. You reach deep, guttural tones no woman should.

Would nut if you called him 'sir.'

Call him 'sir,' and he'll call you 'ma'am.' Especially in bed. It's shamelessly kinky, given the age gap between you. Might just call you mommy if you're okay with it. You're still under your parent's insurance and barely have a driver's license. Your wisdom teeth haven't come in, and here this forty-year-old man was calling you mommy.

And if you are? Agreeable with it, that is? Toji does his best to make you one.

He missed out on Megumi. Thoughts of another child hadn't crossed his mind until he was deep in your green, twenty-something pussy calling you mommy in that aged murmur.

You love everything he's saying. "Gon' fuck a baby into your teenage pussy—get you pregnant." Toji liked to poke at your age. He'd call you a teenager when you're particularly difficult. Little girls can't talk to me like that. Those nights remained the same. Toji fucked you on the floor and bred you until you couldn't speak. Cum ran from your entrance in a thin, constant stream. Milky, thick-flowing, and filthy. You just need some good lovin'; that's all it is—needed attention. You didn't know how to ask for it without pitchin' a fit like a child.

Make-up sex where he'd hold your hands as your thighs shook. Toji made up for leaving the cabinets empty by leaving your thoughts emptier. Cramming you six inches full of excess and relief, Toji filled you over and over until debt became greed. He's slow, thorough—men his age typically were. Toji was no boy. Wasn't in no hurry to finish. Thrusting between your hips, deep and thick in your cunt and inches from your face, Toji murmured, "'m gon' set it right."

You love what he's saying so much your appreciation lands on the base of his cock and lower abdomen as you squirt. "Dirty little girl. Dirty teenage pussy, begging for her senpai's cum." He burns right through your chest.

The words, "What are you going to do about it?" sit on your tongue.

"Gonna breed that pussy good. Gon' get you pregnant. Get you knocked up." Toji tugs your legs up higher, pulling you into his body as he snaps his hips. He thrusts into you, quick and hard.

Give it to me, give it to me. Put a baby in me. Oh, God, fuck me!

"Pussy'll be so sweet with my cum between those pretty, swollen lips. Might just eat it. Might have to. Might be all the sugar I need."

Muscles jump in your lower belly. Toji grinned above you, rotten, when your pussy quivered. Toji is feral when he gets his face between your legs, unlike any man you've met. The enthusiasm for your pleasure as he dug, sucked, licked, and scraped with his tongue (all while his right hand held your slippery cunt open for him to discipline and drink down) was primal and terrifying. It had you there in minutes. He had no direction, no idea, and no technique. All he had was the hell-driven desire to please you—make you come fast and hard 'many times as he could before his tongue gave out.

Every little thing you told him to do. That's all he had. You asked for more, and he gave it. You tell him to scratch that itch between your thighs, and he knows exactly what that means—squeezing his cock into your too-small ass. From there, all you did was tell him what you wanted, and he performed like a dog with a bone.

Toji wasn't above holding you down so that you took your pleasure on his face, fingers, and lips.

No, this dog took every ounce of his strength and overpowered your body to ensure he got his pound of flesh. What sorta man was he if he couldn't please his woman? An embarrassment, that's what. You ain't gonna insult him and walk away with steady legs.

"Gonna ride that pussy, make it mine."

Ride me, baby. Oh, God, yes!

Toji hunkers over you—that thick, heady scent of sweat, cologne, and body heat. He smells good. "Bet this teenage cunt loves feeling like it's mature, getting filled and stretched into a mommy's pussy." He's telling you how you'll look so good with your freshly creamed pussy.

Wanna be slutty for you. Make this pussy creamy.

"Gon' get that cervix wet. You'd better drink up, girl."

God, you'll drink every last white drop of it. You're already spasming.

"There she goes talkin'. Swallowin’. She's thirsty." Toji tilts your face towards him. "Boy or girl? Which one ya like?"

You struggle—feebly pressing his chest with jellied wrists to get him up and off of you. Out of you. You have to keep yourself from melting outward and running onto the sheets when he snatches you up in his arms as if you were nothing and hemmed you to the bed, hemmed you to his chest in a bear hug, and fucked you. He caged you beneath him and held you there. You’re held down and bred. Pre-cum drooled out of you onto the pillow like the real thing. Each thrust sent your hips violently into him, bobbing, circling, and returning to meet him as you rubbed your slick folds against his cock when it slipped out. He had you humping his wet dick like a bitch in heat. That was you on him. He's covered in you. He hugged you so hard that the bed felt like a paper bag under you.

"Ain't no running. Y'gon' take this dick. Take this apology."

"Don't! Don't—" The fight to free your arms was heavy and impossible as he lined himself up just as quickly as he'd left. Eager to fill. Eager to please. Hands trapped between your sweaty bodies, you settle for pushing against his stifling weight despite rising to help him resettle himself. And God, do you feel like home. Comforting, warm. He can already smell Ma's cooking. Slick, like the blood of his bounties. 'Specially when his bosses demanded a trophy as proof of his service.

White. All you see are the whites of his eyes as Toji's cock overfilled you to bursting, assisted by your curved spine and lofted hips.

He does it so gently—sliding into you like a Spanish kiss. Indulgent. Letting you admire the breadth of him, the ridge of cockhead that made your walls flutter and sing as it moved through you like drugs flooding a bloodstream, peddling euphoria throughout every corner of your body until you were floating and light in the giddy breeze of his possession. He looks demonic, possessed. Your cunt groaned from how full it was, glutted. Feel-good chemicals left you gooey and barely conscious as he stroked into you, exactly where you needed him and weren't ready for him. The deep grinds into your G-spot had you losing your breath, but he wouldn't stop. He wouldn't stop fucking you.

Uhhhn, God. Your eyes flutter. Your walls squeeze him against your will. You could kiss him.

"N-noooo, you can't. Don't cum in my pussy." You moaned. "Don't—hnn!—don' cum..." Your arms close around his waist, hips arching and rocking like you couldn't decide what you wanted more, to push him off of you or get creampied in one go. Bred.

"Mommy, ya gotta tell me." Your pussy clamps. Fissures of resistance disappear like they never existed when Toji calls you "mommy" like it's a sin. He's whispering dirty in your ear as if he knew your secrets. As if he knew you were two pumps and one shuddery male moan away from pleading the exact opposite.

"Tell me, Mommy, so I can do it for you." Toji's voice had gone sugary-sweet and deep.

But no...no. Nnn. No. "You… can't...do that." It's cheating. He's cheating.

"Tell me how you want this baby."

God, it just feels so good. You want him to cream you. Breed you. You like the fantasy of it all (it gets you wetter than anything), but he isn't financially stable, and you're no mother.

"We can't! Not 'nough money." Your lips don't sing lullabies. They sang heartache and blues. Emotionally immature and mentally thin, you're no mother. The slightest inconvenience, and you're ready to cannonball off a bridge.

"Ain't what I asked ya." Toji put you in a headlock. Ears hot and pounding, you twist and thrash as best you can underneath him. He doesn't leave you much room to grapple—still bearing down on you with all his strength and thrusting. 'Overwhelming' couldn't begin to capture the wave of shivers washing over you. Toji scratches that itch inside of you so good it nearly hurts. God, it's good—the beating he gives that secret, special place you can never reach alone. Where fingers clench into knots, your womb feels like a fever. You're in heaven. Your thighs burn from all that friction. You're in hell. Your body wants nothing more than to let out a primal scream as you battle to cope with the intensity. It takes you a few moments to realize you are—hollering in absolute hysteria. You unclench your fingers long enough to shove fruitlessly at his chest, claw at his arms and pelvis.

The thick arms caging your head tighten. "Answer. Or I’ll put one in your backside."

"Girl!" You shouted—voice rough and strangled behind his grip.

"A lil princess just like 'er Mama." Toji bucked into you, closing his eyes with a groan. When they opened, they stared down at your hostile mouth. If there was one body part of yours Toji was fascinated by, it was your lips.

He's been staring at them while he fucked you, lust in his eyes. Toji watched them threaten and plead.

"You get off me, or I'll—" Your words clung thickly together, dragged in places they shouldn't as if they were moaned.

"I'll..." Your lashes fall to your cheeks as Toji moves down, nose rumbling softly with steamy breath as he latches onto a nipple and sucks.

Your cunt swallowed and sang; you rose to meet his next push. The way his tongue and teeth work together on that sensitive spot is enough to make you light-headed.

"I'll..."

Toji stared at you, expression unreadable as ever. "You'll what, Mommy?"

He watched 'em gasp and form his name. He needed 'em. Needed 'em more than his own mother's rotted eyes.

"You'll cum?" He ground into you, and you gasped.

"Yes." You wrapped your arms and legs around him. God, your skin was on fire.

Toji released your breast and latched onto your mouth instead, groaning against your lips. His tongue flicked inside, and you opened wide.

"H-harder. Toji, I'm—"

Ughn!

Toji hits it like he couldn't miss—rutting, grinding, and humping into that sacred spot. Your kiss had him rabbiting and murmuring, moaning, and biting. He was gasping. He was growing—swelling at the base of his cock. He was coming apart.

Seeing you thoroughly enjoy yourself and falling apart on his cock has Toji's hips faltering. Mama's never yelled for 'im quite like that before. He had mama screamin', had 'er eyes rollin' back. Had her thrusting on his cock like she wanted her green, little pussy filled—wanted his kid.

"Sound so good, Mommy." He's coming already, eyes shut as the first few spurts escape him. Toji's thrusts deepen each time you moan. He'd shiver, pushing hard into your g-spot. He spoiled it for every hunger pain while he was away.

"Hands." His voice shook with effort—the physical strain of staving himself off.

When you don't immediately respond, Toji's head rests on your shoulder—miserable like an old dog. "y'know I can't cum without 'em. Know I need 'em."

His breaths come in rough pants. "I'm gonna cum, Mommy. Imma go right up your pussy and spill my seed."

"Toji—" You squirm, "Toji, don't!" You'd damn near drooled as the first squirt of hot cum hit your pussy, unconsciously bucking into him for the umpteenth time.

You beg Toji not to cum inside you, hugging him and pumping those hips all the while. Desperately, at that. A man's gotta wonder.

"Let me apologize, mama," he said between labored breaths. "Let me give you this baby." His fingers pry into yours, clutching them against the mattress as he rutted and sighed into you. "Let me."

"No." You fight. "No, no, no, no, no! No. Don't!"

His thrusts pick up as you try and wrangle free.

"I forgive you, Toji! I forgive—"

Toji licked into your mouth, grabbed onto your hips, and emptied himself in a long, thick stream. He shivered in your arms through spurts and convulsions, letting you swallow his shuddered alphabet of husky groans.

You can't help but buck into each warm shot of his seed. You're a whore. And you're tired of pretending you're not.

You're still moaning for him not to cum inside you as he does just that, pushed up against your G-spot, gently grinding you toward an orgasm of your own.

He could've positioned himself at your cervix and got all nice and snug, but then he would've missed the sleepy look on your face. Eyelids hung low, mouth parted—sated, full, and still working that pussy against him, swallowing miserably around him because it hasn't cum. She will. He'll show ya he ain't useless, that he's good for somethin'.

Besides, they'll swim. He doesn't need to be lined up to hit a target. It'll be fine once you're shiverin' against him; you'll send 'em right where they need to be.

"Please don't, sir." You said, still thrusting through the zips and tapering shocks of your orgasm. Your arms are helpless, bumbling, and unresponsive.

'Sirs' nice and all, but he'd prefer 'Mister.'

Author’s Note: This was Valentine's gift for myself and I decided to share it. If this performs well, I'll finish the second installment. The next part will feature Erasermic, Bob Velseb, Daddy Dearest, Mommy Mearest, and a fourth character I haven't decided on.

Tips: Please consider tipping if you're well-fed. It would incentivize me to keep sharing. https://ko-fi.com/pumpknpie

©️pumpkin-pi-e | Do not copy, edit, paraphrase, plagiarize, translate, or borrow from my work. I do not give my consent for any of my works to be reposted. I only write on Tumblr. Should you find this anywhere else, please alert me because it was stolen.

For your listening pleasure:

The title was based on the song below.

Do Not Interact - Writers and blogs who actively write white-coded reader inserts (blush, turn red, a flush of color). I can’t eat at your table, and I don’t want you at mine. You will be blocked. Blank blogs will also be blocked.

#yandere Aizawa x reader #yandere Hanzo Shimada x reader #hanzo smut #yandere Jesse McCree x reader #yandere Cole Cassidy x reader #yandere Toji Fushiguro x reader #toji smut #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere overwatch #yandere bnha #😍yandere #<- Block this tag if you don’t want to see dark content #yandere smut #they’re soft yanderes tho #Spotify

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all-gummed-up-inside · 1 year

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Autistic Hanzo <3 this isn’t a headcanon it’s completely fact, source: Blizzard Entertainment told me

He has such a hard time cumming :( everything needs to be just perfect, he needs to be touched just right. Maybe even have one of his sensory stuffed animals with him <3

But until you two find out the perfect way to make him finally tick, to finally cum, it’s all teasing and touching everywhere to figure out where he does and doesn’t want to be touched. Maybe he can only cum with certain toys, maybe he needs to have his own fingers fucking into himself instead of yours. Orgasm after orgasm ruined, trying to find the perfect conditions for him to cum <3

#dom reader #dom fem reader #dom male reader #dom!reader #sub character #sub overwatch #overwatch x you #overwatch smut #overwatch x male reader #overwatch x reader #hanzo x you #overwatch hanzo #hanzo shimada #ow hanzo #hanzo shimada x reader #ow x reader #sub hanzo #sub hanzo shimada #autistic hanzo

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nanamimizz · 1 year

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tags: 18+ minors dni, fem reader, missionary, lovemaking, f!receiving oral, size kink, creampie, biting, confessions of love, no dynamics - mostly fluffy, let me know if i missed something!

synopsis; one might think the world has harden hanzo shimada to where he is made of stone. only you can turn him back into the man he was always meant to be

hanzo fucks you tenderly - he can’t help but think that he has to. you’re a decent woman, kind and warm in all the ways the world of the shimada empire did not allow. he can’t help but feel as if he has to prove that he is worthy of you - that he bows his proud form at the apex of your thighs sucking, licking, fucking you with a tongue that has let out affirmed, terrible orders that befall the men that go against the clan.

he drinks down the honey that you leak, hot pants of breath caress your clit as he marvels at how sweet you are even when soddened and soaked - when he looks over at you from his place between your thighs and finds how you endearingly cover your face with your hands as you tremble. when he asked you, all you said as you averted your shy gaze was that you couldn’t bear to hurt him by the scratching of your nails or by the tugging of his hair.

you are wasted on a man like him.

his lady love - a demure, decent woman who gives a man like him everything he doesn’t deserve. your wit, your smile - you even gave him a home; a place to return to when for a long time the streets of the world was all he had. all these reasons are tally marks craved into his mind - things he must repay even though he knows your giving nature doesn’t see it as such. more claim to the notion that he is unworthy of you.

you cum for him faster than he’d like - hanzo shimada, the sleeping south dragon could spend a thousand years between your legs and would still find it not enough. he pulls away bearing the sin of greed as he licks any remnants of your parting from the stiff and short hairs of his beard. the tang of your cunt is sweet but it pales in comparison to the soft mewls you make when he presses into you for the first time tonight.

hanzo takes you on your back, legs spread and soft thighs flush at his narrow waist. your form is incredibly delicate compared to his - he drills it into his head that you deserve to be touched with reverent gentleness and he pushes the head of his cock into your wet slit carefully. silencing himself by biting into the soft, silken skin of his inner cheek he hears how you gasp his name -

“h-hanzo! ah…ah!” you puff into his lips and presses his forehead to yours to watch how you blink blearily in pleasure, crystals gather in the waterline of your pretty eyes and the sight of how they glisten make him feel like he’ll burst. one, strong and muscular arm goes up to your head - his forearm bearing his weight as the other goes to grip your hip; only to drag you further down his cock.

its obscene.

the wet schluck! that resounds in the room embarrasses you and as the first smack of his sack hitting the damp skin of your ass makes you hide behind your hand as you gasp at how good it felt to be full. hanzo’s cock is thick - girth that stretches you out until it stings and you swear you can feel his tip leak out that salty, cloudy liquid into your cunt and that seeps fire into your stomach.

your face is scrunched up in pleasure - eyes squeeze shut, brows furrowed and lips gasping as if he is taking away all the air in your legs and filling you with him, him, him instead. he leans away from you, bringing down the arm that help him above you to swipe at the sticky pearl of your clit; he hopes to soothe the sting of his cock with strokes at the flushed nub and unfortunately all he does is instead make you yelp as your thighs go to shut but you aren’t quick enough are you? especially like this, laid out and muddled with pleasure, hanzo’s hand that clutched your hip went to your thigh instead and pinned it down.

“no. don’t hide from me my love - let me pleasure you.” he whispered to you, pulling back and thrusting shallowly - his accent thick as he murmurs words so sweet they glisten in the light of your lamp with the shine of candied dates. you feel so vulnerable under him; all you can do is nod as you grow more and more teary eyed until they spill down your cheeks like morning dew on orange leaves.

pleasure is such a sweet thing you feel it in your blood, helpless at how it sinks into your bones and up your spine and it makes its way out by the slick of your cunt and salt of your tears as you mewl and gasp at the slow, deep strokes hanzo gives you. he fucks so gently, so deeply as if he is trying to carve into your most intimate of places and most intimate of moments that he is your one and only.

who are you to deny him, when you never have been able to?

you can only watch with eyes blown back, he compares them to when he can see the crescent of the moon peeking behind it’s veil behind the clouds on those lonely nights and he can’t help but want to kiss you. as his lips meet yours, the moan you let out feels like a morning ray of sun - hanzo’s back breaks to shivers and sighs at the sound. you are so quiet when he has you like this, mewling and gasping and sighing; even now he finds this wholly different than the brothels he’d seen in his youth, the ones his father would take him too and the ones he had to drag genji and his men out of when he became of age.

hanzo feels so out of his mind - your cunt is soft and warm, tight like a clutch and whenever he glances down his breath is caught in his throat at how your body takes him, accepts his unyieldingly just like your heart did. he belongs there, when he thinks about someone else being here ; having you like this and treating you as if you weren’t something made to worshipped by saints and sinners alike it makes him lean down to press his cock deeper - harder until you feel his strokes in time with the beat of your heart.

instead he settles to lean down to kiss you.

you arched, tilting your head to make it easier for him as your hips stutter and you tremble in the tell tale signs that you are going to cum - that you’re closer to making a mess on his cock sooner than later. it comes when his teeth sink into the delicate skin where your shoulder melds into your neck. you keen, high and thin, his name for the first time in a long time sounds worthy and he follows you shortly - the tremors and squeezes of your pulpy cunt make him shake as he gasps but remains inside.

hanzo presses a kiss to the indent of his teeth left on your skin and trembles when he has to move even gently and the overstimulation. he blinks away the fog from his eyes and takes in the blissed out look on your face. your eyes are foggy and your lips lax - sweat drips down the opposite side of your neck and you are the picture of perfection underneath him. hanzo prepares to roll over, thinking with his age and your sensitivity this will be all you two could muster until further down the line.

he jolts in surprise when you blink and turn to look at him with your chest heaving, you smile reaching up to rub your nose with his and say three words that have men have led wars for.

“i love you.”

with great embarrassment, the former shimada heir looks away, as he feels his cock stiffen to life in the satin slit of your cunt - ears turning red at how you gasp and flutter around him once again. reaching down, he presses a kiss to your dewy cheek and mutters something in japanese you don’t understand - “lovely girl you will be the death of me.”

he says to you in this moment, voice thick with so many emotions they choke him as he stumbles through the foreign language to tell you what his heart surrenders too in your presence.

“i love you as well.”

#lamb.writes #hanzo x reader #hanzo shimada x reader #hanzo smut #overwatch smut #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you

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montcumbry-gaytor · 1 year

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Eternally yours

Hanzo x Amab!Reader x Cassidy! Smut

A/N : Anotha one, I have trouble being consistent but yk I'm getting shit done.

A/N : READER USES HE/HIM

FEM ALIGNED DNI

WARNINGS : Threesome, Smut, what is to be expected from a cowboy and a archer.

Cigar smoke and Incense, very contrasting smells, and yet they always seemed to linger around eachother, it's not something you'd expect, but it was a delightful smell.

Of course, scents weren't what you were thinking about, you were thinking about Cassidy and Hanzo, The ex-blackwatch cowboy, and the Ninja who could control dragons and abandoned his responsibilities.

At times like these you could only swoon for men like that, not only were they morally attractive, but physically too, and don't get started on personalities.

Damn- what was god putting in men these days?

Nonetheless, you carried out your day, finding either Hanzo, or Cassidy's, or both of the two's gaze on you, like lasers in the back of your skull, made it very difficult though.

You hadn't talked to either of them much, especially not Hanzo, as he was more shut off as Cassidy, who was very friendly and struck conversation with you often.

Which is how you found out Cassidy and Hanzo were dating, Through simple conversation, you listened, Cassidy had been chatting up a storm as he found you eating.

You couldn't pinpoint when exactly this crush bubbled up for the strange duo, but your heart did flips anytime you interacted with them, but you didn't want to initiate anything, taking as they were happily together, and you didn't want to change that.

The base of Overwatch was mostly empty, save for you, Hanzo, Cassidy, D.va, and Hammond, who you hadn't seen much of, but the base was big enough that it was natural.

As you traveled outside to get some fresh air, you were quickly greeted with a puff of smoke traveling your direction, bringing your eyes to the source, Hanzo and Cassidy stood, conversing as a cigar hung out of Cassidy's lip.

"Oh- My bad Partner, didn't mean to get that in your face."

"It's alright, I'm just out here to breathe."

You explained, blush tinting your cheeks as Cassidy lightly patted your shoulder.

"Me 'n Han were just talking about you, we've got something to tell you, if you'd be willin', Not right now though, we were wonderin' if you'd meet us in my Room later in the evening?"

"Oh- sure! is it anything important?"

"You could say that."

Hanzo spoke, pushing himself off the wall, coming to stand next to Cassidy, before whispering to him something unintelligible.

"Well I'll see you 'round, Han's gettin' cold."

He chuckled, wrapping an arm around Hanzo's waist.

"See you tonight Cassidy, and Hanzo."

"Just call me Cole."

"Right, Cole, See you."

You said one final time, watching them both enter the building, letting you finally hear the silence, the safehouse was amazing, in an open field, it was peaceful.

You stayed out there for hours, watching time fly by, the moon coming out to shine white light on your face, bringing a chill with it, you decided it was finally time to retreat back inside.

Then your mind wandered back to your interaction with Cole and Hanzo, asking ATHENA for the time, thanking her for her response of "7:30" and wandering through the halls, Angela's medical office, a meeting room, down to the deeper parts where everyone's quarters were.

Finally, you reached Cole's room, fidgeting for a short while before knocking your knuckles against the metal door, quickly pulling away as Cole stood between the opening it had made.

"Glad you came, Make yourself at home."

He said, gesturing to his bed, both him and Hanzo we're in more casual attire, Cole's glove, Shawl, Hat, Belts, and holster were all off.

Hanzo had done the same with his belt, and his bow had been placed soundly on a shelf of Cole's, his boots taken off and sat by the door.

You had never seen them so casual, so you could say you were more awkward than normal, standing stiffly near Cole's wall.

"Why so tense? C'mon sit down, We got somethin' we wanna tell ya."

You quietly came to sit between them, keeping your hands in your lap and eyeing them down, almost as if you were shooting lasers out of your eyes.

You heard a sigh from your left, eyes flashing to Hanzo, who had his attention on Cassidy, jumping as a cold metal hand came to rest on your shoulder.

"Listen, Darlin' we don't wanna push you into any of this, but we both think you are a very good lookin' kinda man."

"-Ahem, we would like to ask you if you would, consider, becoming our partner."

Hanzo said shortly after Cole, eyeing you down, as you could do nothing more but stare down in shock with a blush lighting up your face.

"I uh- I'm not sure I understand-"

You muttered, biting your lip, eyes locking with Cole as he brushed hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek to bring you to face him.

"We like you, Darlin' we want you to date us."

You heard Hanzo hum in agreement from behind you.

"We both have deep interest with you, but only if you would like to, please."

Hanzo said, grasping one of your hands and leaving a chaste kiss on it.

"Im really surprised you feel that way, I mean since I've been pining on both of you since you joined."

You laughed under your breath, eyeing them both who raised their brows awaiting your response.

"Yes, I'd like to be you both's boyfriend."

Hearing the pleased sigh of Hanzo, and seeing the Toothy grin of Cole's, sent butterflies right to your stomach.

"does this mean I can kiss you guys now?"

You asked, looking at Hanzo, and then Cole, who grasped your chin, pulling you to kiss him, smiling as you melted into it, running a hand through his hair and tugging it gently.

You felt your muscles tense at the feeling of Hanzo kneel at your feet, hugging around your waist, causing your breath to hitch.

"You're excited."

He stated, dragging a finger down the seam of your pants, right over the forming tent in the fabric.

"I can do something about this, if you'd let me."

He added, eyeing you for an answer, smirking as you nodded in time with your erection twitching as Cole took to leaving gentle hickey's on your neck.

You couldn't help but smirk at how Cole whimpered as you gently tugged him by his hair away from your neck to kiss him once again, slipping your tongue into his mouth.

You felt hazy as Hanzos mouth met your tip, slipping down your length, running his tongue on the underside, leaving you to pull from the kiss in a helpless groan.

"Oh fuck Hanzo.. your mouth is so hot.. ah.."

You whispered, whining as he slipped a finger into your hole, easier than he expected he slipped in his ring finger in aswell and curling them towards him, pressing against your prostate as he bobbed his head on your length.

The overwhelming pleasure leaving you to lean on Cole who slipped his hands under your shirt, the warmth of his flesh hand and chill of his metal hand meeting your nipples causing your back to arch.

"Mm gonna cum! Hanzo- Please~'

You whined, moaning as Cole's lips met yours, muffling the lewd noises spouting from you as you came into Hanzos mouth, who pulled off of you before swallowing, pumping you in his hands to let you come off your high.

As you caught your breath, you sighed as you pulled Hanzo into a kiss, pulling on the ribbon in his hair, letting it fall around his face.

"You look hot like this."

You hummed, twirling a strand of his hair around your finger, turning to Cassidy, who watched you both with admiration and frustration as his erection pressed uncomfortably in his pants.

You took no time slipping off your clothes, time passing quickly as you all stripped, coming into a position as you pinned down Cole while Hanzo pressed against your backside.

"He needs little preparing, he can't bear going without something in his hole each night."

Hanzo said, watching as Cole blushed, averting his eyes, which soon closed shut in pleasure as you pushed into him, as Hanzo has stated, he squeezed around you comfortably, you smirked at the noises he made as you bottomed out into him.

The smirk soon faltered as Hanzo pushed into you, it was hot in your stomach, causing you to pant, melting into the both of them as Hanzos chest pressed into the arch of your back.

Cole's hand met your face, you leaned into it as you took the hint to move your hips, Hanzo meeting your pace to thrust in as you thrusted out of Cole, the combined pleasure made your brain feel like mush.

"Ah- shit.. "

You whined out, huffing out short breaths, which Hanzo quickly shut down by kissing the back of your neck.

"Breath."

He muttered out, leaving small hickey's in his wake, smiling in satisfaction as your breathing evened out, the feel of his facial hair scratching your skin soothed you in a odd way.

You kept your right hand holding Cole's hip, while your left one held Hanzo's left from over your shoulder, whilst Hanzos right stroked over your stomach, Cole's right clung to your shoulder, whilst the left dug into his sheets.

"Oh fuck Darlin' I'm gonna cum..."

Cole whimpered out, his chest shuddering with his shaky breaths.

"I am too- ah.. you're so tight Cole.."

You hummed, stroking his hip with the pad of your thumb, leaning into Hanzo, who's cock twitched inside of you.

Cole came first, his cum spewing onto his stomach leaking through his abs, his hole tightening around you with his release, unwillingly, your dick slipped out of him as Hanzo pulled you close to him, fucking you without mercy.

"Doesn't he look pretty like this, Cole?"

"-Fuck yeah he does Han'."

Cole hummed out, laying back as he watched you cum, the white substance leaking down your cock and spurting onto his legs, Hanzo pulled out, fucking into your thighs before his seed spilled down your legs, which quivered weakly.

Cole grabbed you by your waist, raising up to lay you on the bed, letting you catch your breath as he got up, kissing Hanzo deeply as his hand landed on Hanzos left hip momentarily.

"I'll get a towel for us, catch y'all's breath."

Cole hummed, winking at you as he disappeared into his bathroom, returning shortly after, already cleaned up as he tended to you and Hanzo, who unwantingly separated from a small cuddle you had formed.

"Hate to stop y'all from bein' cute but I want a clean cuddle pile."

Cole said, leaving kisses over you and Hanzos body as he cleaned you both up.

He tossed the towel into the floor, joining you both in the cuddle as he pulled a blanket over all of you, leaving you to shortly pass out from exhaustion

A/N : Mental illness teehee, hope y'all enjoyed, I made Cassidy use a accurate country accent because I myself am southern and cannot stand when then make him talk inaccurately

#overwatch #cole cassidy #hanzo shimada #cole cassidy x male reader #hanzo shimada x male reader #amab reader #male reader smut #male reader #smut #overwatch smut #this is gay

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