Do you have any sfw and nsfw headcanons for Submissive Demon Hanzo with his dom?

shes-claws-deep:

Yep, sure do 🙂

SFW

Demon!Hanzo is cunning, underhanded, and willing to do anything to accomplish his goals. However, he has a strong sense of honour with a skewed moral compass. He will do anything to protect that which he considers his, and there is very little that belongs to him. And you? You belong to him as much as he belongs to you, so be prepared to find that he’s constantly warding off other demons and protecting your house like it was his own den.

When you both first met, it was likely to have been the result of a clash of territories. His wit against yours. Hanzo fancies himself skilled in the art of speech and deal-making, but you? You are his match. He’s mesmerised by your skill, impressed with how you’re playing him like a shamisen, and utterly taken with your confidence. You’re perfection and he must have you.

Magic is strong in his blood, making Hanzo perfectly capable of assuming a human visage and living with you as any other human husband would. When you’re out of the house on errands, he accompanies you with a stoic look on his face, a sneer on his lips at the human rabble as he passes them. When you’re busy working, Hanzo would be out securing his territory, patrolling and fighting off others to amuse himself in your absence. At night, he serves you as diligently as any loyal servant, caring for you and cooking foods that he has learned over the years that he has been alive. His father would be appalled at how submissive he is, but Hanzo now knows there is power in service.

For the first time in his life, Hanzo doesn’t need to posture and pretend when he is with you. You don’t care that he’s a demon, that he’s practically royalty, that he can easily kill you if he has a sudden change of heart. His line is as fickle as they are powerful – concubines upon concubines are the preference of the Shimada clan. For once, he has to earn the affection of someone outside of his clan and it’s intoxicating when you praise him and reward him for his efforts. For once, there is someone who can fulfil his substantial sexual appetite, heck, you’re probably more demanding than he is. And he loves it.

NSFW

Rope never holds Hanzo. Metal does nothing either. No, for him, you need special sutras to secure him in place. Ones that have been twisted into twine and pasted onto thick manacles are the only things that can hold him. They bind away his magical strength and make him as weak as a human, and stronger sutras turn his muscles to jelly and haze his consciousness, leaving him vulnerable to your every whim.

The stamina of demons is legendary and Hanzo is no exception. He will cum as many times as you want, lasting long after his cock becomes sore and his ass feels gaped from how many times you fuck him. Sometimes he will curse his body as it fails him, trembling and shaking as he drags himself to your feet to kiss it, apologising that he can’t keep up with your desire to fuck. Other times, he will hold his orgasm for as long as you deem fit, his grey skin turning dark as he puts that hard-earned discipline to good use. He will cry and he will swear, but he will not cum without your permission.

Hanzo vastly prefers rough sex. The rougher you are, the harder he cums. He wants to battle, to fight, even in bed, and he will make you work for his submission. If he isn’t covered in bruises, scratches, bites, and bleeding by the end of the night, it wasn’t a good night. Likewise, he will leave his mark on you with passionate scratches and bites, smugly looking over his handiwork when you’re finally all fucked out and lying next to him in bed.

Despite his fangs, he has a bit of an oral fixation. He will explore you with his mouth and his lips over his hands, only using his bulky arms to help hold you in place as he eats you out. Hopefully, you won’t mind a bit of pain, because he often nicks you with his sharp fangs, grazing his teeth against your sodden pussy lips as he sticks his tongue in you as far as it can go. Oh, and it can go far. His tongue is thick and long, able to extend far beyond what should be possible and tickling your G-spot with ease. It’s taken him a long time of trial and error, but now he’s able to find it with unerring accuracy, driving you to your orgasm at a breathtaking pace. And when he eats you out, he always looks like he’s in bliss, looking like he can stay between your thighs for the rest of his life without complaint.

shes-claws-deep:

imagine-this-overwatch:

Whenever you’re away on a trip, Puppy!cree sleeps in your bed because your scent eases his separation anxiety.

Did someone ask for Genji in addition to McCree?

McCree

Pup!Cree doesn’t come across as a boy who is needy and starved of affection. Not when he struts around like he owns the place and flirts back with gusto. Well, if you did think he’s not the needy sort, you’re quickly reassessing your opinion when the poor pup hangs off your legs as you pile your bags next to the door.

“Where are you going?” He pouts up at you, ears and tail drooping. “How long are you gonna be gone for?” How long as you going to leave him alone?

You laugh at his wobbling lip and pet him lovingly. “Just two days, doggy. You can last that long without me, can’t you?”

Two days? That’s…that’s nearly an eternity! “I’ll die before you get home,” he wails and hugs you tighter, trying his best to imitate a python to stop you from leaving. “That’s too long.”

While endearing, his antics are delaying your departure and you really did need to go now. With a sigh and a quick kiss, you quickly wrench him off you and pass him a pillow you keep in your car just for him. “Sorry, doggy. You’re going to have to put your big boy pants on for two days until I get back. Be good, alright Jesse?” Before he can recover from your hurried kiss, you rush out the door and lock it behind you, waving at your pet from the car window as you speed off.

Now, McCree is all alone in this big house, left staring at the door on his knees – just where you left him. Whining and pawing at the door uselessly, he leans against the wood and fights back the tension building in his chest. Okay, just two days, he can do this! You’ll be back in a heartbeat! He can be a big pup and take care of himself until you get back and-

He makes it to your bedroom to make the bed before your scent hits him right in the nose. And just like that, he crumbles again. But-but what if you don’t come back? Are you going to abandon him again? Surely not, right! He’s been a good boy for you, he hasn’t destroyed anything in the house for a month and he didn’t chew on your favourite heels. Heck, he even refrained from begging for scraps at the table! That’s what a good boy does, right? You’re not possibly going to leave a good boy behind, right?

Deep, even breaths quickly become nigh hyperventilating. McCree is starting to panic a little bit. What if you don’t come back. What if you decided to abandon him like his previous owners? What if what if what if-

It’s nonsense, he knows that. You love him more than anything else in the world, as you said countless times ever since you brought him home from the shelter. He can ride this out, he knows he can. He just needs a little bit of comfort for the moment. Just something to make him think you’re still here.

With that in mind, he sheds his clothes and crawls into your bed, rolling around in the sheets and burying his nose in your pillow to take in deep lungfuls of your comforting scent. In mere minutes his anxiety dies down bit by bit, soothing his breathing and his frantic heartbeat until he’s dozing quietly under your heavy duvet.

Yeah, you’ll be back. Just two days. Just…just two days.

Genji

What was supposed to be a day trip has turned into a three-day nightmare. Genji curls despondently into the messily made nest as he mourns your fading scent. The sheets and blankets and pillows smell more like him than it does of you now, sending him into a deep funk that he’s not sure he can climb out of on his own. All the linens that you’ve touched are hoarded onto your bed, pooling around him and making up for your absence somewhat.

But as comfortable as his nest is, it doesn’t replace your warmth and your reassuring presence. And has he mentioned that his nest doesn’t really smell like you anymore? Because it doesn’t. And it’s driving him mad.

The first few hours of making his nest were heaven save for the near-crippling separation anxiety that made him act almost embarrassingly clingy. He went about collecting every piece of soft material that even remotely smelled like you and piled it on the bed, crawling into it soon after to burrow deep within its depths. It was sort of what cat-nip would be to him if there was ever a version that could affect him, and he rolled around in its softness up until twilight when he expected you to return.

When you didn’t, he first got anxious again. Did you leave him? Did you decide not to come back?

Luckily for his sanity, you texted him saying that you’ll be delayed for a further two days and that you were really sorry. That you’ll make it up to him when you get back. He remembers nearly tearing up in relief that you haven’t abandoned him, instead replying that you’ll make it up to him indeed. Seeing your text soothes him a little, but soon he’s back to his old ways of worrying and fidgeting and letting his mind go down that forbidden rabbit hole.

The nest helps a little. Keyword: a little. He squirms in it and ruts into your panties and takes his showers with your toiletries. Anything to make him smell like you and make him think that you’re still there. Heck, he even fires up the electric blanket for some additional warmth.

Hour by hour, day by day, and by now the nest isn’t helping at all. He paces up and down the halls of your house, checking the window and the door for any sign of your arrival. You’re due back any moment now – you even texted him to say that you’re in the home stretch. Any moment now. Any. Moment.

He sits before the door, ears perked and eyes glued to the stained glass for any sign of a shadow approaching the stoop. The light dims and his pupils dilate. How long has he been sitting there? A few minutes? A few hours? He loses time while he waits with bated breath, his hands twitching every time he hears something outside the door.

It must have been only fifteen minutes, but to him, it felt like an eternity before his sharp hearing picks up your car pulling into the driveway and your distinct footsteps approaching the door. Shaking and nearly limp with relief, he can’t do much other than lean against the wall and howl with happiness the moment you open the door.

“I’m home-Genji! What are you doing on the floor, you silly pup!” You admonish him with a tired smile and drop your bag, just in time to catch him as he throws himself at your legs with slightly teary eyes.

“You’re home!” It’s almost a sob but he’ll never admit it. “Welcome home.”

You’re home. You’re home. And now, he’s home.

Skinship

overdrivels:

HERE YOU GO, YOU THIRSTY HEATHENS. YOU CAN ALL
THANK @poutypanic FOR COMMISSIONING THE FULL VERSION OF THIS.

(Actually, I have to thank pouty because I
couldn’t actually write this on my own without some direction. OTL. I’m just
really indecisive sometimes.)

I have a really funny story about this that
motivated me to finish:

I was working on it at work

but then I had to get into a meeting with my bosses and some vendors

and they needed me to show my screen

guess what?

…yeah. OTL;; Anyway, please enjoy.

You’re not sure if Hanzo’s more into showing off
his hidden wealth or just very into indulging himself as you find yourself in
the private bathing area of the ryokan Hanzo had booked for you both.

You were both in Japan for a general
reconnaissance mission, tracking the interactions between the skeleton remains
of the Shimada clan and Talon envoys. The two of you would’ve been tailing them
much, much longer if Talon didn’t somehow get themselves arrested by the
Japanese government early. (It wouldn’t hold them for long, but any
inconvenience to their plans is a good thing.)

Actually, you were more surprised that neither
yourself or Hanzo was sitting in a jail cell with those arrested Talon agents
yet. It’s not as thought either of you were extremely discreet throughout your
hunt.

At each place you both stopped, your
partner-in-crime deadpan gave his name as Hanzo Shimada rather than the made-up
alias that Winston so painstaking created for you both (with fake passports,
IDs, and an entire backstory). He even went as far as ‘accidentally’ flashing
his tattoo at police when he passed them by—leaning forward and giving them a
glance of what’s beneath the unbuttoned collar of his dress shirt, fixing his
cuff so that the dark ink on his wrist is visible for just a moment.

It’s very clear that he enjoys giving the
Japanese government more grief than necessary.

(Though, you had to admit amidst the cackling
glee, the looks on everyone’s face was priceless, and the one on Hanzo’s face
was pure vicious.)

Now everyone knows the former master of the
Shimada clan is alive, well, and let loose in his stomping grounds. It should
concern you, but you had an absolutely gorgeous room and just a few minutes
away from sinking into some mineral rich hot water. If anyone wanted to kill
you both, they’ll have to wait.

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