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the smut vault

Chapter Text

Pairing: hanyatta (hanzo/zenyatta)
Kinks/ Warnings: dom/sub elements (dom zenyatta, sub hanzo), oral sex; zenyatta with both male and female genitalia (valve focus)
Summary: sometimes the only way hanzo can feel peaceful is through a little idolatrous worship.




Hanzo Shimada would have crawled for no other man alive.

In the warm, silent security of Zenyatta’s room it felt terribly, profanely right to prostrate himself like this before the omnic. Almost. He moved along the ground on his hands and knees like a lame animal- knowing he was visibly trembling, sweating, even, hair a loose tangle, eyes glossy. He felt weak and predatory and drunk with his own arousal, and every misplaced limb represented another second in his walk of shame. Zenyatta, for his part, simply sat back against the wall watched with all the benevolent intensity of a goddess: a beautiful Kanon in silver and gold that glowed encouragement at him, and, once he was close enough, reached out to pet him with those long, sensitive hands.

That he was fully dressed and Zenyatta was not somehow made the process all the more obscene.

As the omnic’s fingers threaded through his hair Hanzo granted himself the luxury of a whimper and nuzzled back into his open palms. Until now he hadn’t realised just how hungry he was for these moments of affection. Once Zenyatta began to touch him it seemed to open up a chasm within him that ached to be filled.


Carefully, Hanzo disentangled himself from the gentle clutch of Zenyatta’s fingers and settled into seiza before him, as always. The omnic remained still, back to the wall, thighs slightly parted to grant him access to the tender softness of his cunt and, above it, his phallus, standing sleekly to attention like an unsheathed blade. He did not complain when Hanzo knelt before him and grasped his thighs, just beneath his knees, or when he pressed them back into Zenyatta’s body until they framed an lewd vista between his legs, his faceplate glowing askance in belated modesty. The lips of his cunt gleamed with liquid need, which already formed a slick and spidery thread between his pelvis and the floor.

On another night he would bury his face into that soft, welcoming place and fuck him with his tongue, or take out his own erection and bounce his squirming body in his lap. His cock was already throbbing eagerly against his thigh, leaving a damp spot against the fabric of his clothes. Not tonight. Tonight he leaned forward, almost in dogeza, moved his head between Zenyatta’s thighs and brought his lips to the head of his cock.

It wasn’t until he heard that first sultry sigh come hissing from the omnic vocaliser that his mouth started to water.

Inch by inch, Hanzo worked his way down the length of the omnic’s cock, lavishing it with his attentions in long, attentive licks that left both the metal and his own mouth glistening with saliva- and Zenyatta sang for him in those soft, cello-like notes that make every noise sound like a secret. What began at a hum quickly rose to a gasp and a murmur.

Dimly it occurred to Hanzo that he was panting, partly for the compression his position enforced upon his lungs, but also for how little he had dared to breath in the last few moments. Certainly it did not help that his own cock stayed trapped against his thighs, hot and sweating, squeezed by every muscle as he dipped low-

And lower still. With Zenyatta’s cock bathed from crown to base, he returned his lips to the tip in a brief, chaste kiss. Then he parted them.

Zenyatta’s hips jerked in his grip; Hanzo felt his feet, now dangling over his shoulders, spasm with the sudden intensity as his mouth slid straight back down the shaft. Before long he bottomed out and suddenly his mouth was full of hot, slippery metal. It was all he could do to prevent the groan that escaped his throat from turning into a curse. This was it- this was what he needed, this fullness, to feel the omnic twitch and whine around him, to lose himself in the pleasure of this strange, lovely, impossible creature. With encouragement like that, his only fear was that he would never be able to tear himself away.

Shameless, now, the sounds of Hanzo’s worship came in wet, noisy slurps and the subtler kiss of lips across metal. There was no grace in it, he knew: only the animal need to mouth the omnic’s dick until it stretched the back of his throat and his eyes watered with the effort of resisting his gag reflex. Suckling, in a way that left his mouth raw but his mind quiet. God only knew, it was worth every second.

Whatever words Zenyatta had begun by whispering to him were already rupturing, syllables splintered, Han-zo, as if it were two unique words. Static and chirps. His grip tightened around the omnic’s thighs and he imagined leaving dents, how he would have to beg forgiveness for such terrible sacrilege.

Somehow, some tiny, half-conscious part of his brain realised that he had lifted the omnic’s hips clean off of the floor and crushed him back into the wall, lifting his cock into his throat as though he were raising handfuls of water to his lips instead. His muscled burned with the effort, his cock pulsed with every frantic beat of his heart, his thoughts fell silent- but it was not until he heard Zenyatta let out a sweet, keening gasp that it became enough. Not until Hanzo felt the omnic’s dick twitch and stiffen between his hollowed cheeks, not until the heat of him spurted into his drooling mouth in a thick, salty-sweet surge until he had to swallow, just to keep it from spilling past his lips. Only then could he come, with glazed eyes and an empty head, in a sticky wave of sensation.

At long last he sank between the Zenyatta’s thighs, aware of nothing more than the thrum of a voice close to his heart, and the touch of cool hands against his neck and shoulders.