#i....yeah

Wingding would be the type to only summon his hands, and leave his blasters alone for the most part. Unless he's in a place where his emotions are uncontrollable, that lets his subconcious to summon his blasters.

He didn't make them or anything, it's just manifestation of his magic, or an extension of himself. Once he found out about them at about 7 years old, he hid them from his father (headcanon reasons).

He just raised them :)

The smallest blaster (head) would be the size of a motorcycle.

The smallest blaster (full body) would be the one in the picture. Shape or types can vary

The Biggest blaster (head) he could muster would be the size of a 2 floor house.

The biggest blaster (full body) would be the size of a commercial airplane. Shape or types can vary.

He would need to be at full energy to be able to summon the biggest blaster dragon. Or else he'd fall into a magic deprived coma.

Zenyatta snuggled Hanzo’s arm happily, the weight of it comforting as it laid over his side. It had become a thing for them both, laying down together and finding comfort in the warm body beside them. At first, it had been for Hanzo’s sake, the man starved of any sort of gentle touch, leaning into it every time it was offered. Then, it had become a returned favour for Zenyatta, after his brother had been killed and the only solace he had after nightmares and painstaking loneliness was the archer hugging him close, whispering soft reassurances.

They were always quiet about it; never talking about what was growing between them, rather, just letting it happen. It felt natural, and Zenyatta knew he and Hanzo both had no intentions of stopping. The warmth in his chest every time he simply saw the archer was enough to brighten his day and keep him going through his darkest moments. Hanzo hardly left his side anymore, always wandering around with him, eager to watch and learn from what the monk told him.

He smiled more and more, laughed every now and then—and what a beautiful sound that was, Zenyatta adored hearing it—finally relaxing and realizing he was simply a person just like everyone else. Except, he wasn’t like anyone else, not to Zenyatta. He was like a ray of moonlight, shining bright and stronger with each passing day, beautiful and calming. The monk often thought he loved Hanzo, and the more he would think so, the more it became so.

Zenyatta hummed softly in contentment, trailing a finger over the dragon wrapped around Hanzo’s arm in deep, midnight blue. The morning was barely that, the sky fading slowly from hues of blue to pretty oranges and pinks. Hanzo was breathing steadily, warm puffs against the back of Zenyatta’s neck, still sleeping peacefully. The monk pressed a kiss to the back of his hand, then reached back and threaded his fingers through Hanzo’s hair, petting through it gently. Closed his eyes and sighed.

Hanzo took a deep breath, body shifting as he stretched in his sleep, pressing against Zenyatta even more than he already had been. That was when he felt it, hard and insistent. Zenyatta flushed as he turned to glance at Hanzo from over his shoulder, biting his lip. He debated silently as the archer relaxed again, breath picking up.

Lust won out, Zenyatta pushing his ass back against Hanzo’s erection, grinding lightly. He watched as Hanzo’s brow furrowed slightly, a quiet whimper leaving him as he nuzzled against the monk’s shoulder. His arm tightened around Zen, cheeks gaining a blush of pink as he continued to press into him, firmer now. Zenyatta tried not to imagine what Hanzo had been dreaming about, though, a quiet part of him hoped it had something to do with himself. The monk’s breath left him quicker, lips parting and eyes slipping shut, fantasies trickling in and making him even more warm under the proverbial collar.

Perhaps Hanzo had been dreaming of the sparring match they had a few days back, where he had pinned Zen to the ground in a rather uncouth position, noses brushing as Hanzo smirked down at him. Zenyatta had accidentally let out a whimper when his wrists were clasped above him after he had tried to buck Hanzo off of him, the man’s weight and heat pressed against him, so easily holding him down. He knew Hanzo had noticed, not that his fluster had been very well hidden to begin with.

Zenyatta wondered if the archer had thought about it afterwards, like he had. Wondered if Hanzo daydreamed about holding Zen down like that again, pressing their bodies together, teasing and grinding like he had. Zenyatta had not let his mind wander this far about it, but now it was different.

Now, it was all he could think about.

Hanzo pressing him down, making sure he did not wriggle too much, whispering what he wanted to do to him all the while kissing him, claiming him, calling him a good boy whenever Zenyatta would whimper and moan and stretch into it like he was now. The monk put a hand over his mouth to cover the lewd noises he was making, embarrassed at his own thoughts, at how turned on he was because of them.

He startled when he felt Hanzo move his hand down his chest, dragging it to his hip and pulling him flush against him. Zenyatta gasped as Hanzo nosed up his neck, lips caressing feather-light along his raised pulse.

“What an interesting thing to wake up to,” Hanzo murmured, voice low and gravelly, sending shivers down Zen’s spine.

“Here I was, thinking it was just a dream, and yet when I wake, you are just as flushed and warm as I recall. Unless I am still dreaming, in which case, it is still a pleasant one,” He continued, lips moving against the shell of Zenyatta’s ear as he spoke, just barely above a whisper.

The monk bit his lip, glancing over his shoulder with furrowed brows, hand sliding back over Hanzo’s ass, pushing him closer. Hanzo let out a soft sound, Zen’s eyes fluttering shut as he rolled his hips, arms wrapping around him tightly.

“I-It is not a dream...”

“Good.”

Zenyatta whimpered loudly, then felt himself go even redder, if possible.

“You...Like that, don’t you? When I say those things?”

The monk nodded, too dazed and wet and heated to care about anything but the man behind him and the words coming out of his mouth.

“Y-yes, please, Hanzo...”

“Fuck...” Hanzo groaned, hand sliding past Zenyatta’s waistband, fingers curling into him. Zen whined as the archer pressed two fingers inside him with ease, thrusting them in time with the rolling of his hips as his thumb circled his clit, teasing.

“Mm, you’re so good for me, Zen. You’re my beautiful boy, my good boy, aren’t you?”

Zenyatta keened, hips bucking against Hanzo’s hand as he spoke, voice breathy.

“Mm—Mhm! Hanzo...!” Zenyatta gasped, body writhing, hands gripping at whatever they could.

“You’re so lovely. So pretty, taking me so well already. You were thinking about this before, as wet as you are, weren’t you?”

“Y-yes...Yes, Hanzo, yes yes—Aah!”

“Is it just like you imagined? Getting all hot and bothered just thinking about it? Must have been good.”

“You are—Hnn, yes, always.” Zenyatta moaned, back arching as Hanzo rubbed his fingers over his clit for a moment before plunging them back into him. His mouth fell open, brows furrowed as Hanzo massaged him all the while leaving wet, possessive kisses over his shoulder and neck.

Zen cried out as Hanzo’s free hand toyed with his nipples, tugging and groping, sending spikes of pleasure right to his core.

“Gods, you’re so fucking gorgeous. So beautiful...Such a good boy.” Hanzo grit out between quiet huffs, Zenyatta letting out a whimper of Hanzo’s name as he tensed, orgasm washing over him with an intensity he had never felt before. He gasped and quivered for a few moments, Hanzo drawing the sensation out as he continued to rub over his slit.

“There you go...” He murmured, Zenyatta panting as he relaxed back into Hanzo’s embrace, eyes closed in bliss.

It was quick, too quick, but Zenyatta did not have it in him to care. He never really touched himself, did not often feel the urge, and if he did, it took too long for him to start feeling good for it to be worth his time. Hanzo had made it seem easy. Done things Zenyatta had never tried to do for himself, things he never knew could feel that good. It still felt good, Hanzo’s fingers gently massaging over him as he slid a leg between Zen’s own, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. The monk let his weight fall back against him, body pliant in the best way.

“To think I get such a treat before breakfast. You spoil me, Zenyatta,” Hanzo murmured, hand finally pulling out from his pants.

Zenyatta glanced at him, eyes widening as Hanzo slipped his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean with narrowed eyes.

“H-Hanzo...” Zenyatta whispered, said man smirking and sitting up, eyes staying locked with the monk’s.

“Oh, I am not finished with you yet, my love. I will have you screaming for me, until my name is all you can manage to say.”

Zenyatta pressed the back of his hand to his mouth as Hanzo pulled his pants down and off him completely, brows furrowing when he licked a broad strip over his slit without hesitation. He moaned, head dropping back, arching into the sensation. Hands curled into Hanzo’s hair sharply as his clit was sucked past his lips, still sensitive and leaving him twitching already.

“Hah...Mm, H-Hanzo...”

Zenyatta gasped as Hanzo’s tongue swirled over it, then dipped down and pushed into him, thrusting gently. He picked up his pace as Zenyatta moaned wantonly, seemingly satisfied that he was enjoying it. And oh, how he was. Zen’s fingers curled, pushing Hanzo closer as his hips lifted, feet sliding against the mattress to give him better purchase. 

Hanzo hummed, the vibrations of it making pleasure wind tightly in Zenyatta’s core, a wet gasp leaving him. He almost felt bad for how much of a mess he knew he was making—the sheets would surely have to be washed—but the way Hanzo made pleased little noises between the sloppy, wet ones were enough to let him know he had nothing to worry about.

Hanzo dragged his tongue over Zenyatta again and again, lips closing over his clit and teeth just barely brushing over it as he sucked and lapped eagerly. Zenyatta whimpered and whined with each pass, legs shaking with the effort to keep them up. Hanzo slid his free hand up one, then tugged it over his shoulder. He then felt fingers press into him again, hips bucking and toes curling.

“Hanzo!! Ha-aah!! Ah! Hanzo, d-nn, do not stop—! Ahn..! Hanzo...!” Zenyatta cried out mindlessly, Hanzo’s fingers curling slightly and massaging that same spot as before, making warmth pool and crest in the monk’s core.

Gasps and moans were the only noises Zenyatta could make, eyes squeezed shut, pressing himself against Hanzo insistently as that coil of pleasure tightened. It snapped with little warning this time, Zenyatta arching up suddenly, legs squeezing Hanzo tightly as he came over his tongue with a muffled shout. He gasped and whimpered, slowly relaxing as Hanzo let his legs down and rubbed over them soothingly, pressing little kisses over his abdomen.

“How are you feeling?” Hanzo asked after a moment, laying off to the side and trailing his fingers over Zenyatta’s torso lightly.

The monk smiled, taking a deep breath and stretching leisurely. Hanzo’s eye’s flicked down and followed the movement. Zen made a soft little sound, looking up at Hanzo through his lashes, watching him lick his lips unconsciously.

“I feel amazing. And how are you, my dear? Still in need of...Oh, I don’t know...My own services?” He hummed, hand slipping down his collar, dragging to his abdomen, stopping just when he felt the bare edge of Hanzo’s arousal.

“My my, so very close, I’m sure.” Zen continued softly, pushing himself against Hanzo as his fingers dipped under his pants and teased at the head. Smearing the wetness gathered there with a smirk as Hanzo’s eyes fluttered shut with a sigh. He swirled his thumb, dug it into the tip just slightly, reveling in the hitch of the archer’s breath.

“You are awfully worked up. What was it that you were dreaming about, I wonder?”

Hanzo made a low sound in his throat, Zenyatta smiling and nuzzling against his neck as his hand dragged up and down the shaft, twisting and swirling at the head just to feel him twitch and buck into it.

“I think you can make a pretty...Mmn...Accurate guess.” Hanzo grit out, head lolling back as Zenyatta laughed softly. He kissed up the line of Hanzo’s throat, biting lightly, getting a hiss with each movement of his hand.

“You know, I do not believe I should miss out on my treat either.” Zenyatta piped up, grinning at Hanzo cheekily before sliding down his body and pulling the waistband of his pants down just past his thighs.

“Fuck, Zen...I—“ Hanzo interrupted himself on a moan as Zenyatta wrapped his lips around the head and swirled his tongue.

He took a moment to get comfortable—and to tease—though, he had a feeling it would not be long. Hanzo’s hands gripped at the back of the monk’s shoulder tight enough to leave marks, breathing heavy and stuttering almost to a halt as Zenyatta took him down to the base in one go. He dipped his head up and down for a few moments, pulling almost all the way up before going deeper each time.

“Hhn—Zen I’m going to...Oh gods...”

Zenyatta made a noise of approval, bobbing his head and putting a little more work into sucking and laving his tongue. Hanzo tensed, body curling as he came. Zenyatta took his release with ease, not letting up until he had sucked every last drop from him. He licked his swollen lips, grinning up at the archer as he panted, coming down from his high. Zen shifted to lay next to him again, petting a hand through his hair and caressing over his flushed cheeks.

“I never knew I could wake up to something that good,” Hanzo mumbled, eyes closed, body relaxed completely. Zenyatta smiled, snuggling into his side and tossing the blankets back over them. The chilly air was becoming uncomfortable for how bare he was.

“Well then, perhaps we should make it more of a common occurrence.”

Hanzo chuckled softly, eyes opening sleepily as he gazed at Zenyatta, leaning his head into the monk’s touch.

“Perhaps we should.”