so i was thinking about this tiktok where nanami keeps his glasses on because he likes when you take them off. this led to me spiralling and considering him in a domestic space so have a bunch of headcanons!!
reader: gender neutral
rating: teen
word count: 707
♡ nanami is used to a cramped bachelor’s apartment with a loft bed that he barely gets to use for all the overtime he’s expected to put in
♡ so getting to have free time in the much roomier apartment he shares with you leads to everywhere becoming a potential spot to sleep
♡ and communal spots lead to an increase in attention from you, he notes, so if he falls asleep on the couch after a rough day it’s worth the crick in his neck to feel you idly play with his hair or tuck him in
♡ he wakes up to a blanket covering him or a hot cup of tea on the coffee table in his favourite mug. these become normal gestures
♡ is nanami surprised by it every time, even when it’s normal? yes, absolutely. but he’ll just tug the blanket up or take a sip of his tea and accept
♡ there are little things that make adulthood bearable, too, he considers. and most of them have to do with you
♡ you’re endlessly fascinated with the shape and colour of his glasses. you take them off when he notices he’s asleep with them on, but sometimes you steal them for no reason at all
♡ because you want to look at them or try them on. or, and this is his favourite, because you want to kiss the sharp bridge of his nose
♡ you naturally assume he would hate you doing it in public, but when you get bored waiting for a table at new café you try it
♡ you pluck his glasses right off his face and give his nose a kiss. as you expected, he blushes. but to your surprise, he leans in and bumps his forehead against yours
♡ he plays along, returning affection in ways that he’s comfortable with. his hand is never far from yours under the table, never far from tangling your fingers together and gently squeezing
♡ date nights are sporadic, but he does his best to see them through when you manage to pin him down for one. when he has to leave in the middle of dinner or halfway through a documentary it does hurt
♡ nanami brings home flowers as an apology, and is consistently struck speechless when you insist that he has nothing to apologize for
♡ you laugh that it was even harder to pin him down for couple activities when he was working at the office. the only time you’d see him is when you stayed for overtime, too
♡ he admits that you’re right, but still brings you a gift when a mission interferes with plans.
♡ you have a habit of thanking him. it’s one of the most dependable ways to make him blush, thanking him for all the work he does to save people and keep people safe
♡ he may try to dismiss it, or say that he does his job for reasons other than thanks but the both of you know he cherishes the support you give him. he does what he does in order to help people, and you never fail to remind him what a good person that makes him. even if he often feels like he falls just short, you do make him question it every time it happens
♡ over coffee one afternoon he has free, he explains what ‘hygge’ means as best he can. it’s what his grandfather would strive for and he never thought he would be able to want the same
♡ he explains that it’s the feeling of coziness and contentment, something that doesn’t translate well outside of danish. in a lot of ways, he lacks it. but in small but meaningful ways, you bring it into his life
♡ his sentimental streak feels out of place with the brutality he’s had to live with. but you coax it out like he’s a skittish cat, and he’s grateful for your patience. he imagines loving him is quite difficult
♡ but every time he gets close to voicing that, you kiss whatever part of him is closest to you (he’s very fond of forehead kisses), and you without fail you remind him it isn’t.
notes: got seized with the sudden, manic urge for loving on this busted-up sad boy. this is set after genji’s death for maximum angst potential .
rating: mature, this isn’t fully smut but there’s some sensual themes .
pairing: hanzo x gender-neutral reader .
♡ he’s never taken especially good care of himself, for one reason or another. whether that be because of an underlying discomfort with his actions or because he simply assumed that one could not live poorly when one had money is unknown even to hanzo
♡ but he’s always been bad at relaxing. bad at sitting still and resting even when it’s called for. even when he had a consistent place to call home, he would look for reasons to stay out. to keep working even when the work was hurting him
♡ hanzo isn’t better now, per-say. in fact, you’re concerned that he’s only gotten worse without the veneer of wealth to at least keep him eating right. but for all the ways that he punishes himself for his mistakes, you find small ways to combat the narrative that he only deserves suffering
♡ he isn’t happy when you clap your hands and tell him to turn over, that you’re going to give him a back rub. still, complaining outwardly isn’t to his taste, it reminds him overmuch of when he was a more brash and heartless boy
♡ there’s the usual insistence that he’s fine. that tonight will be fine, even if you both know he’s grabbed you tight in the dark and refused to tell you what his nightmare was about
♡ this isn’t fine, and that’s why you push back. you tell him he looks haunted, that he needs to unwind before the two of you need to leave tomorrow. there’s time now, and he will let you take care of him
♡ hanzo makes you put a little bit of effort into getting him to comply, though. you sit down heavily on the bed and nudge at his shoulder, not with any particular direction at first. but eventually he gives in to the pressure
♡ the mattress is strange and hard, but he’s more than used to it. his muscles ache when you push him down onto his stomach, arms folding above his head to rest under his cheek
♡ he feels exposed, like a nerve under a microscope and subjected to constant stress-testing. even when you try to be gentle, he flinches away from feeling warm skin against his
♡ touch is supposed to hurt, isn’t it? he hasn’t touched anyone but to kill them for such a long time. but you just sigh, and say that you know it’s difficult. you’re trying to help him. hanzo replies that he knows, that you can do what you like
♡ he is fucking broken, you feel that as soon as your hands touch his shoulders again. hanzo gives a sigh and tries some approximation of relaxing when you all but force him to accept it
♡ it’s like a flickering candle, but he holds together when your palms press against muscle pulled taught. he isn’t aware of how badly he aches until you begin to ease it with firm circles of your thumbs on either side of his spine
♡ he feels your weight and your warmth right next to him, a comfortable and familiar presence. he’s tried to desert this base joy in his life a few times, and you’ve never once let him get far
♡ for better or worse, you’re following him on his pilgrimage. you’re putting food in front of him and a bed beneath him, and hands on him so that he can know something other than guilt
♡ he actually struggles to keep contented noises behind his teeth. every so often you’ll hear a strained groan or sigh as you work the tension from his muscles. hanzo is so stiff and high-strung at all times, you wonder if he was always this way
♡ all you know is that he used to have money, and he did something so terrible that one day he’ll try to permanently sever ties with you by telling you what it is. secretly, you know that it won’t work, and that he’s foolish to hope that his greatest source of comfort could be twisted into a new guilt
♡ but you know he doesn’t mean to use you as justification that he deserves what he puts himself through. while good is a relative description, you know him to be an honorable and thoughtful man. definitely one who deserves gentleness
♡ hanzo absolutely could be in love, and that’s what terrifies him. that’s what makes him suddenly try to rise from the bed, even with no true effort behind the attempt
♡ and just as quickly, there’s fingers on the back of his neck keeping him in place. perhaps he did it just to see if you would stop him, he isn’t sure. but hanzo seems to wilt under the insistence that he isn’t going to escape
♡ he apologizes, just once under his breath and presses his warm cheek to the cold fabric of the pillow. you hum, your hand moving up to his hair. you pull on the tie holding it back and let it fan out over his shoulders
♡ you have a fascination with his hair, playing with it while you work and making him slip ever-closer to looming unconsciousness. sleeping in front of someone else makes his gut tighten, but the way you touch him is warm and non-threatening
♡ he’s blushing, hot and more than a little embarrassed he can still enjoy such physical reprieves. hanzo likes it a lot when your fingers make a loose fist at the back of his neck around the strands of hair, and gently pull
♡ he gasps, stutters and struggles to breathe for a moment. his trousers are suddenly unbearably tight, and his hips press involuntarily against the bed. above him, he hears you giggle
♡ hanzo expects the flare of hot shame, of disgust to rise in him. but instead, he finds himself only reaching to hold the pillow his cheek rests on closer. he covers his face so there is no threat at all of you catching him smiling, too
notes: had a bad pain night so i’m kicking off this headcanon blog with a bit of light self-indulgence involving mako comforting a reader with chronic pain. what can i say, i don’t half-hog anything !!
rating: teen, warning that this obviously deals with both parties suffering from physical ailments .
pairing: roadhog x gender-neutral reader .
♡ chronic pain is something he knows very deeply, even if admitting it is challenging for him
♡ he’s strong. pain is nothing to him, and yet it’s so ingratiated in every part of his life that it’s also everything
♡ he understands when he finds you doubled over and crying, struggling to keep your breathing even. he doesn’t say a word, just lingers in the doorway and waits
♡ you look so small in his bed. fragile. delicate things shouldn’t hurt this badly, he’s strong but you shouldn’t have to be
♡ the world doesn’t deserve you at all, and you don’t deserve to feel so hopeless that all you can do is cry
♡ to your credit, you don’t lash out as he expects he might. If he had feelings, which he doubts significantly now, and the situation were reversed? he isn’t sure how his anger and humiliation would manifest
♡ but you only hug his pillow tighter to your chest, and let out a broken sob. Your shoulders collapse in on themselves, shaking as you struggle to catch your breath
♡ you stiffen up and inhale sharply, before holding out a hand and motioning for him to come
♡ it was the cue he was waiting for, even if he pushes that thought down immediately. you need him, so he moves to the bed
♡ it sags under his weight, making you flinch. before mako can stop himself, he’s mumbling an apology
♡ and you turn, slowly, to him. you rest your chin on his big shoulder and you give a weak, strained smile. you tell him it’s okay, it doesn’t hurt as bad with him there
♡ it’s got to be the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. and it makes him laugh, a short, harsh sound that makes his belly jiggle. the mattress shakes gently
♡ and then you’re laughing, too. softly and with the occasional wince or noise of pain
♡ when the giggles die down, he surprises himself again by asking if you need sleep. And when you nod, he’s put on edge by the way he gingerly lies down without another word
♡ what does he care about pain in his own body, let alone causing it in others? but his chest aches at the thought of seeing you struggle again, even indirectly because of him
♡ so he waits for you to come to him, watching as you carefully tuck your chest against his
♡ he’s so warm, and your skin is flushed too. but you don’t seem to care, don’t even seem to notice as you bite back sharp gasps in an effort to get comfortable
♡ mako wants to help. but this is helping, he ultimately decides. your needs are different than his, hogdrogen isn’t a cure-all
♡ and if you say this helps, he has no choice but to lie still. He has killed and burned so much to the ground, but his gut instinct when he sees you struggling is to ease your pain
♡ his hands feel clammy, he tries to wipe them off on his dirty jeans before putting them on either side of your face
♡ mako isn’t able to take off his mask, and you can understand that. he needs it to survive, to alleviate his own hurt even as he tells himself he doesn’t feel it any more
♡ but he bumps his forehead against yours, so delicately that it could be affectionate. you make a sound that isn’t pained, but it’s just as soft. a content, little sigh that makes something fleshy behind his ribs twist
♡ could this be healing? everything he touches turns malignant, worn down by grit and age. but he feels lighter when you make yourself comfortable against him
♡ your arm, so flimsy compared to his own is cast over his thick shoulder. you coil around him, trying to find the position that will help you rest
♡ he asks if it’s good when you go still. it’s a dumb question, what does it matter if what he can offer is enough? you’ll take it or leave it
♡ and he is grateful to his aching bones that you don’t leave. you don’t even twitch. a soft sigh, then another and you’re asleep
♡ pain takes work, it’s energy. it’s exhausting, hurting in places that shouldn’t know what it feels like.
♡ your body is small and comforting, pressed so tightly against his. he cups a big hand at the back of your skull, pulling you just a bit closer
♡ he feels your cheek against his chest, still a little wet and hot with tears. and he does his best to force air through his lungs in a way that mimics your even breathing
♡ he hasn’t slept in a while, either. mako closes his eyes, he could try.
so i’m of the opinion that nanami can sub under the right circumstances so have some content with him getting soft dommed and loved on. enjoy <3
reader: gender neutral
rating: explicit
word count: 1,301
♡ it’s not that he can’t be in charge in the bedroom, or that he doesn’t like it. on the contrary, there are times when he’s too wound up to do anything else
♡ but to claim that he doesn’t have a submissive bone in his body would be false. even if most people assume that’s the case
♡ he knows he can be a wet blanket sometimes, dour or stoic or seen as a hard-ass. but with the same languid joviality that you give to your kisses, you press him back against the sofa in your apartment and whisper you’ll take care of him
♡ poor nanami doesn’t stand a chance. he makes a soft sound that could definitely be a choked-on sigh and you’re already removing his glasses. his chest aches when you kiss the bridge of his nose, he tries to lean forward
♡ but your chests can’t press any tighter together, he realizes. and your fingers in his hair brush and tug his head back to keep him from trying. you look at his face, at his dilating pupils and his slightly open mouth
♡ you call him needy and he shivers, but it isn’t cruelly meant. he likes that you can see when he has needs, and want to meet with so much energy and desire. you want to please him by taking him apart piece by piece. nanami considers that you are the only person in the world who is allowed to find out how he works
♡ when you ask for explicit consent, the wordplay makes him groan and drop his head on your shoulder. you tug him back by the hair and the exasperation in his voice leaves so quickly
♡ he has unexpectedly deep moans and is more vocal than you might think. he mostly grumbles your name and tells you not to tease him, but it happily goes disregarded
♡ nanami doesn’t actually want you to go easy on him. he wants you to tease and deny him for as long as you like. he wants to make you happy when he gives in to the way you make him feel
♡ you use his tie as a lead, guiding him from to wherever you want to have him. he likes your spontaneity, in contrast with his own tendency to take you on the bed when he’s being dominant
♡ but you like to fuck all over the apartment. dining chairs, on counters, against walls. the whole space is yours to use and he is to be used. it sounds like heaven
♡ he doesn’t try to pull away or change your mind. he delights in wherever you decide, embracing the thrill of surprise and of not having to choose. but his favourite spot is when you stay right on the couch, and only move to pull him into your lap
♡ you keep him under control with his tie wrapped around your fist. he can see you when you’re this close, having to lean in a little because any sort of distance just will not do. nanami presses your forehead against his
♡ he cups your face and you let him kiss you, trying his best to please while you distract him with your hands. he turns bright red when you tell him he’s easily distracted, even if it’s true
♡ you grab at his chest over his dress shirt, squeezing his pecs and abs. he doesn’t know if he’s always been this sensitive or if it’s just the thrill of you touching him that makes it so. but he struggles to stay on task when you push your fingers underneath his shirt
♡ you don’t even try to unbutton anything, you just force the fabric to ride up while you press and stroke and feel his skin. he’s been hard since you sat him in your lap, but his cock throbs incessantly with each brush of your hand
♡ he thinks about you ripping his shirt open, buttons going flying and ruining it completely. nanami knows if you were to actually do it he’d be annoyed in the afterglow, but all the thought does in the moment is make him twitch in anticipation
♡ he’s lanky and awkward with intimacy, trying to push himself up on his knees so his bodyweight doesn’t hurt you. you seem to know when he’s about to do foolishness, one hand reaching to grab him by the tie and tug him back down so he’s pressed against you again
♡ when you tease him for the obvious bulge in his trousers, it’s almost a relief. at least you’re not ignoring it like last time, waiting until his patience wore so thin that he needed to remind you himself
♡ but it was hot when that happened, he admits to himself. still, nothing quite compares to you palming the front of his pants without him needing to beg first. he rocks a little back against your palm, which only prompts more teasing
♡ but he just can’t keep his hips still. nanami grunts when you take your hand away, moving instead to unbutton his shirt. he likes when your skin is against his, absolutely, but he thought you weren’t going to make this an endurance test
♡ his face is a blushy mess, he revels in feeling a little powerless more than you might think when you tug on his tie again and say that if he wants to come then he can start grinding on you
♡ he knows this pretty well, though and while you wouldn’t describe him as eager to do as ordered-- he wraps his arm around you and gets to work
♡ your hands return to his chest, pinching and rolling his nipples which makes him grunt in surprise. he likes it more than he thought, which you counted on. you always know how best to please him
♡ it’s easy to rile him up, especially when you’re kind and move one hand down to cup his bulge so he has something to rut against. he sighs and drops his cheek to your shoulder, and your other hand immediately rises to his hair
♡ he likes that best of all, slowly working his hips against yours while you brush his hair back from his forehead. it’s as calming as it is arousing, a welcome reprieve from the weight of the world on his shoulders
♡ nanami likes it when you talk to him. you warble praise and sweet words without really thinking and it coaxes him into relaxing. he wants to exist, even for just a little while, as nothing more than the kind names you call him
♡ he wants to be good, needy, precious and anything else you can come up with. he can hear the smile in your voice as he grunts that he’s going to come. and he revels in the way you remind him that you haven’t even touched him yet, at least not really
♡ you don’t stop him, as you do on occasion when you’re really testing his stamina. he’s grateful for that, so much so that he doesn’t mind when you squeeze and palm him until he comes in his trousers
♡ he slumps down on top of you, his arms thrown around your neck and his chest heaving. all the while, your fingers brush through his hair. after a few minutes of pause, they form a fist and carefully pull his head back
♡ you kiss him, and he melts into the embrace. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he thanks you for the attention. but it’s hard to tell when he’s still gasping for air.
notes: so gabe is my massive theatre nerd baby and i just. i like the idea of him gettin’ a lil lovin’ even after the whole *stares at canon hollowly*. he’s struggling, someone help him .
rating: teen, but these do deal with themes of death / existentialism .
pairing: reaper x gender-neutral reader .
♡ it isn’t a date, it’s a covert meeting to discuss talon business. of course. and you’re not about to put at risk any one-on-one time with him for the sake of teasing
♡ he does actually appreciate that. getting deep in his feelings and having to think about them in even small ways makes him retreat from that which he still needs
♡ sentiment and companionship are part of being human. to try and fluster him over that would only backfire to some foolish assertation that he is no longer human
♡ and you know he is. you catch him rolling his shoulders as take the steps up from your family mausoleum. psyching himself up for the conversation, you imagine, and you bite back a smile
♡ you still can’t sneak up on him, though. he freezes mid-act and turns to glare at you through the holes in his mask, ready with accusations that you intended to make the reaper fear you
♡ if he’s taken aback by your smile, or the way you insist that you would never, it’s hard to tell with his face covered
♡ you’ve seen it, his face. once. it isn’t something that he’d soon like to repeat
♡ you just shrug and explain that you’ve been sneaking around through the underground tunnels in your family’s tomb since you were a teenager
♡ his earlier insistence that this is a private meeting hasn’t slipped your mind, but gabriel lets you regale him about slipping out of the house on cool nights to take in the moonlight
♡ he asks if you were a witch. or a necromancer. both intended as jokes but his are rarely ever received as such. and to his immortal surprise, your bubbling laugh stands at odds with the eerie atmosphere
♡ that’s twice he’s made you smile, it hasn’t even been ten minutes yet
♡ is he proud? he doesn’t like it if he is. he doesn’t like it at all. and what does he care if interrupting is rude, he knows he never should have asked you something so personal in the first place. even is he was aiming to offend
♡ he opens his mouth to cut you off, but it’s in that moment you explain you were neither witch nor graverobber. just lonely
♡ and that it would have been nice to come here with him years ago like how you do now
♡ gabriel has to cough to break the awkward silence that follows, but you don’t seem to regret saying that to him at all. and he doesn’t particularly feel like lashing about against something so unexpected
♡ or, rather, he can’t. he scrambles to find a jab or an insult that will make sure you remember who you’re talking to, but can’t find the words
♡ he lets you breeze past the declaration, and you end up beckoning him to join you on a bench erected in lieu of a headstone for your great-great aunt
♡ to your surprise, gabriel seems too in shock to decline. he doesn’t like to think it was because you were the one who asked, but he slinks to your side and sits down on the cold stone
♡ your thigh bumps his and he’s surprised again by the way it feels. your touch is just as painful as anything else, it hurts to have a body, but it’s worse when you pull away
♡ people forget easily that it hurts for him to exist. like a resurrected corpse that should not be moving, his continued existence is hubris
♡ but you never do. you make a point not to touch him, even as you’re laughing and smiling and acting far too familiar. gabriel is cynical enough that he knows it shouldn’t mean anything, shouldn’t matter that you still value his humanity enough to think about that
♡ still, you treat him like he were alive
♡ and you ask if he really wants to talk business out here, because he’s being awfully quiet. you don’t flinch in the slightest when he bites back that he hardly wants to see you otherwise
♡ your nasty habit of putting him in his place rears again when you just grin and say that’s too bad, you’re always excited just to see him
♡ just to look at him
♡ a kind of looking that isn’t quite as painful as he’s used to, he notes with a jaw clenched so tightly that his face goes numb beneath his mask. he feels hot, stifled
♡ and then you burst into a bubbling flurry of giggles, so air-light and genuinely happy that even gabriel’s frayed nerves can’t find fault in it
♡ your hand extends and stops just a fraction away from his masked shoulder, pantomiming comfort to the point where he can almost imagine feeling you touch him. and imagining it feeling good
♡ this creeping sensation doesn’t last, you pull back and skip to the part in the conversation where you start asking questions about new team members, about how they’ll fit and what he’s planning
♡ it’s easy enough to fall back into terse, sarcastic banter. gabriel isn’t sure he likes it more, but he understands it far better than your attempts to be sweet. there isn’t much more he distrusts
♡ it’s obvious you’re fond of him, but it’s the why that makes him sit on the bench in silence long after you’ve kissed the air around his cheeks and disappeared back to the real world
♡ he feels lonely and empty all the time, but he notices it most without you providing a distraction. and he fights that feeling so hard, even if gabriel secretly hopes he’s never able to push you away completely
♡ no one has ever stuck around through his corrosive exterior, not even before the accident. but you laugh with him, and have a trained eye for picking out his behaviour that shows he likes you more than he lets on
♡ it isn’t fair to you, he knows that. and even gabriel isn’t so far gone that he can’t care about that. but if what you want is to joke and flirt with him surrounded by the dead every so often, he’ll keep asking you to meet there
♡ the alternative is suffering as he does alone, and you’ve made that unbearable.
