#oni hanzo

You didn’t want to speak, knowing that at any point this monster could change his mind and end your life. Despite how willing you were to give your life for your village just a few hours before, you were curious about the world of this demon. He lived so freely, with so much sensation and pleasure. You felt greedy, but you wanted more.

Still, curiosity paced inside of you like an animal in a cage, waiting to be let free. You watched the dark forest pass quickly as the demon strode up the mountain, watched his bearded jaw, the fangs at his lips, the bright white of his glowing eyes. He felt your gaze on him, and smirked.

”Are you dissatisfied with the face of your god?” he teased.

Shame burned within you at your ignorance. At the countless times you had chastised your sister for speaking out against the village elders. There was no god in these lands. But, you considered, this demon certainly was no villainous monster as you had been warned about.

”Very satisfied,” you found yourself saying. You were still not quite yourself after being… taken by the demon so roughly. Satisfied was probably one of the few words in your vocabulary as you basked in the aching pleasure he’d left behind.

He seemed too pleased by your answer, and his pace increased up the mountain. “We are close,” he promised.

The slope of the mountain leveled out, and the demon emerged from the trees onto a walking path. You glanced down the direction he was heading and noticed a small temple built into the ridge. Intricate carved wood and stone in a style much, much older than anything in your village, but small and unassuming on the mountainside. It had probably been built ages ago and left abandoned for many years.

The demon set you on your feet at the base of the wooden steps, and you followed him into the darkened doorway.

A flash of red light rippled across the demon’s shoulder, down his arm, and suddenly dozens of candles were illuminated. The sight shocked you, but you stifled yourself and didn’t startle.

The temple was in a terrible state. Dusty, unclean, in need of a good brush and scrub almost everywhere. The demon was clearly not one for tending house.

“You will need to rest,” he said. It sounded simultaneously commanding and unsure, as if he was trying to remember what humans did as well as give an order.

You nodded, and he retrieved a pallet for you, thankfully unrolling it on the cleanest part of the floor and fetching several blankets. The gravity of the day as well as the long hours caught up to you immediately at the sight of a proper bed, and you laid down immediately.

”There is a spring out back if you wish to bathe when you wake,” the demon said. The last thing you saw before your eyes closed was his silhouette as he left the temple once more.

-

The dawn and the birdsong woke you, almost deafeningly loud this close to the forest. You stretched, wincing at the strange aches left from the night before. The bite on your neck was tender, and you let your fingers trail over the imprints of the demon’s fangs. The pain was a welcome sensation.

Much less welcome was the mess between your thighs, and you grimaced as you searched for the path to the promised spring.

It was not far from the back of the temple, down a simple stone path. You were surprised when you rounded the bend and found the steaming waters already occupied.

Your demon stood in the waist high water, hidden in the clouds of steam. His hair was down from its tie, and it gave him a different appearance, especially in the dawn light. He was watching you just as you were watching him, and his eyebrow raised inquisitively.

You didn’t give him a chance to speak, dropping your robe from your shoulders and stepping into the water. The warmth was unbelievably relaxing, and you sighed deeply as you sank into the spring.

“You slept well?” the demon asked.

You nodded, still savoring the warm water that somehow felt much better than the bath the elders had given you the day before.

”I hunted while you slept, found food for you. Hopefully it is enough.”

That intrigued you, and you cocked your head as you took in the demon’s impressive physique. “What do you eat?”

A shiver ran through you despite the hot spring as the demon’s lips split in a fanged grin. “Fear. Terror. Desperation.”

The sacrifices.

”Are you… hungry?” you asked, wondering how soon you would meet a similar fate.

”Quite sated,” he assured you, and it eased you, though you were confused. “You were not afraid last night at the altar,” he went on to explain. “Every other sacrifice has struggled and begged and cried. But your pleasure, your willingness… I believe I have found a new favorite meal.”

You could not help the way your body reacted to his words, remembering the feeling of his tongue against your skin, the way his fingers prepared you, the complete fullness of his cocks inside you. He had claimed you, given you ecstasy beyond anything you could have imagined. You wanted it again.

He seemed to know, the way you squirmed beneath the water, how your eyes dragged over his chest and down to what you knew was beneath the rippling surface.

”You would let me indulge?” he asked, crossing the small spring to where you sat on a stone. He stood over you, and you dragged your eyes from his navel to his chin as you looked up to meet his gaze. The red markings against his blue skin were intricate, and you had seen the way they glowed when he lit the candles the night before.

Your chin dipped in the smallest nod, but the demon was watching you so intently that he caught the motion. The water lapped against your chest as he knelt before you, clawed hands cradling your jaw.

“Do you have a name?” You blurted out.

The demon’s intent expression turned back to that fanged grin, eyes gleaming even brighter. “Do you?” He asked.

You softly offered him your name, and he whispered it back to you, as if matching your features to the syllables.

“I am Hanzo,” he said, and the wind picked up as he spoke it. You heard the trees creak and the leaves rustle at the sound of his voice. A real power.

It was irresistible. After your whole life of piety in your humble village, worshiping the deception of the elders, you craved this unknown force that was somehow fixated on you. Rising out of the water, you kissed Hanzo. Your lips were insistent, chasing the same overwhelming sensations from the night before.

He returned your efforts with a growl and an arm beneath your hips to lift you out of the water. The sudden rush of cool air against your skin only heightened the storm that was overtaking you.

Every sensation sparked a memory of the night before. His long tongue dragging against your skin. The sharp burn of his fangs sinking into your neck. Clawed hands on your hips and thighs. It made you reckless, brazen. You wrapped your legs around Hanzo’s waist as he held you in the warm water of the spring. The closeness of his body against yours was intoxicating, and the world began to fade at the edges just as it had the night before. You wondered if this was the feeding? If so, it was just as intoxicating for you as it was for him.

“Please,” you begged. You didn’t even know what you were asking for, just that you wanted more of what you had experienced at the altar.

“I promised not to hurt you,” Hanzo murmured into the skin of your neck, tongue tracing the imprint of his fangs on your skin. “You will have to be patient so I can keep my promise.”

The blurred edges of your vision shifted, and you shuddered as your back met a soft bed of wet moss. You couldn’t have cared less for your surroundings, not when your world was narrowed to the trail of kisses Hanzo was leaving across your chest and the way he was pressing your thighs apart. One of his fingers found your entrance, and you realized what he meant by patient.

At the altar, you had been so lost in the fear and confusion. Your entire world had been upended by the realization that your life was being given to a demon. And even when he was pinning you against the stone with his tongue and fingers inside you, the swirling haze of pleasure had clouded your senses.

But if Hanzo were to keep his promise and protect you from any pain, he would have to take his time to prepare you for both of his cocks.

”You’re mine,” he said, and you realized he was soothing you. Realized that you were whining and begging for more than just a single finger. “Give in to me, and I promise every second will be enjoyable.”

Enjoyable felt insufficient to describe the way Hanzo prepped you for his cocks. Despite the way you were shaking beneath him in anticipation, every second - every stroke of his fingers and tongue - was rapturous.

From the way he was slurring around his fangs and his eyes were half-lidded, you imagined he was just as drunk as you off the pleasure. His hands grabbing at your hips and thighs, squeezing and dragging against the skin. When he finally stood over you, both of his cocks were dripping with glowing blue precome.

You knew the overwhelming sensation of both of his cocks filling you, had dreamed about it through the night. Even that wasn’t enough to prepare you for the reality of it. The stretch, the fullness, the way the needy emptiness was finally sated.

A clawed hand wrapped around your throat, pinning you in place on the soft bed of moss. Your pulse was racing against the slight pressure. Hanzo towered above you, shrouded in steam from the spring as rivulets of water ran down his neck and over his chest. With a gentle press of his hips, Hanzo sank deeper into your dripping heat until you could feel the tips of both cocks filling you all the way.

“I love how you feel,” he praised, watching where his hips met yours. You wished you could see the sight for yourself. “I can’t wait to make you come for me again- can’t wait to claim you and breed you full.”

“Please,” you begged. Hanzo hadn’t moved, and it was nearly torturous to be so close to what you wanted yet still denied.

You were once again reminded that this was no honorable god, but in fact a lying demon when he smirked. “I could listen to you beg for hours. If you aren’t careful, I may grow addicted to your desperation. It is sweeter than any I have ever known before.

Your hips rocked involuntarily, chasing the pleasure you knew he could give you. A single tear slid down your cheek, and Hanzo released your neck to catch the drop on a claw, slowly licking the salt from the tip of his finger while you watched helplessly. His eyes blazed brighter as his tongue flicked against the skin.

And then Hanzo was leaned over you, bracing himself on the moss bed and driving his hips forward where he was already deep inside you. You cried out, and his long, serpent-like tongue trailed over your cheek, chasing more tears. You had gotten our wish, Hanzo was determined to make you cry with pleasure for him.

Both of his cocks fucking you full ensured that you were never wanting for pleasure, and you could have spent an eternity with that alone, but it wasn’t enough to make you come. You needed more

“I know,” he whispered against your hairline, fang accidentally catching the shell of your ear from the force of his thrusts. “I know what you need. You’ll be dripping with my seed.”

You whined, wanting whatever it was that would push you over the edge.

“Beg for it,” he ordered.

“Please, Hanzo!” You cried, clutching at his arms with enough force to bruise a human. “Please.”

“Such a perfect offering for me,” he growled. “So obedient. So willing. So desperate.” And finally, he reached between your bodies, rubbing hard and fast until you were arching off the bed of moss and screaming so loud it was sure to echo all the way down in the village.

Hanzo was close to follow you, pressing your hips against the moss and driving into you until he was panting, muscles flexing. His tattoos glowed bright, and you were momentarily afraid, but when it subsided there appeared to be no harm.

The sound of the gentle water in the stream reached your ears first as you were drifting in bliss. Then the sensation of Hanzo pulling away. You let out an embarrassing sound as his cocks slipped out of you. Hanzo saw your slight wince of discomfort and was immediately there to console you.

“Is there any pain?” He asked.

You shook your head. None more than last night, and even that had been welcome in the throes of pleasure. However, your eye was drawn to the glowing blue trails running down your inner thighs.

“That is… safe?” You asked, unable to look away from the sight.

Hanzo shrugged. He did not seem to have any more of an answer than yourself, but he was very considerate as he helped to wash you, supporting your weight and grinning proudly at your weak knees and shivering. He took pride in being the one to cause such a response in you.

-

Hanzo had indeed hunted game while you were asleep. Not only was there meat, but he’d also collected fresh greens and fruits as well as some root vegetables. Exploring the grounds around the temple, you found an overgrown garden as well as a clay stove and cast iron pot.

Once you had set the meat and vegetables to cook, you checked every corner of the dusty old temple until you found a sweeping brush. It took you the entire day to clean away the dust and cobwebs, and it would take you another full day just to wash the linens, but by sundown the temple looked much better. Like a proper home for a mountain spirit - or a mountain demon.

The work was just like your daily chores back home in the village, and it felt both strange and familiar as you worked through each task with the same motions as always but in a completely new environment. The temple was truly beautiful underneath all of the age and overgrowth. It was simple and small - likely due to being hidden so high in the mountains - but the stone and wood were masterfully laid and carved with intricate dragons.

You saw Hanzo occasionally throughout the day. Unnervingly enough, he spent long stretches of time just watching you work, standing still and silent just at the edge of the trees. He joined you that evening as you ate, sitting across from you at the low table. You offered him some of your food, but he declined. Still, he complimented your cooking.

The circumstances surrounding your presence at the temple were certainly odd. By all rights you weren’t even meant to survive the previous night, yet now you were sharing a one sided meal with a powerful demon as the sun set behind the mountain peaks. Your brush with death had granted you a boldness and curiosity that you never carried in the village, but Hanzo did not seem to mind your endless questions. He had many of his own, only having observed humans from afar. He’d often wondered at the strange customs in the many scattered villages of the land, and you did your best to explain the traditions you were familiar with.

Apparently, while your remote village offered the sacrifices every five years, other settlements gave alms and offerings of different goods. They did not sustain the demon in the same way as the feedings at the altar, but he enjoyed the respect and fear.

That night, you rolled out your pallet again on the now clean floor of the temple. Hanzo, intrigued, observed the many little preparations you made before sleeping.

“You do not rest?” you asked.

“I do. I slumber for years at a time whenever I please, but it is not like this.”

His answer confused you, but you didn’t have the chance to ask for more information before Hanzo surprised you again.

“May I lay with you?” he asked. “As the humans do?”

There was room enough for both of you, so you patted the soft bedding beside you. Hanzo undressed and lay stiffly on his back, staring up at the ceiling with unblinking eyes. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“It is more comfortable if you lay a different way,” you said, touching his shoulder to urge him to roll onto his side. You lay so you were facing his chest, slowly inching closer and closer until your bodies were nearly touching. Hanzo’s arm came to rest wround your waist, but the action seemed a surprised even to himself.

It had been a long day at school and darkness was already falling over the city as you made your way to your apartment. There weren't many people out at this time, so the streets were quiet. 

You were a few blocks from your apartment when you passed a side street. It wouldn't have been unusual if your gaze hadn't drifted to a man sitting leaning against a garbage can.

You paused in your steps and took a good look at him. He was wearing far too fancy clothes for a homeless man and had a well-groomed beard. Plus, he was covered in blood. He had all sorts of cuts and stab wounds all over his body and face. 

"Sir, are you okay? Can you hear me?" You addressed him and took a few steps closer to him. You were afraid he was dead. As you crouched down next to him, you noticed his chest slowly rising and falling. So he was alive. That was good news. 

"Can you hear me? Hold on, I'm going to call an ambulance," and you were already pulling out your phone. You were about to dial the number when the man grunted something. 

"What do you say?" and you leaned in closer to hear him. 

"No... hospital... too... dangerous," he said heavily. 

"That's crap. I'm calling an ambulance," you said firmly, hearing him barely speak. 

"No... Please..." he said heavily, taking your hand. But he was too weak and his hand went down to his body. 

You had no idea what made you change your mind, but you decided to accept his request. You supported him and were grateful that he was only a few inches taller than you. Even though you were almost the same height, the man was all muscle and quite heavy. 

Somehow, you had no idea how, but you managed to get him to your apartment. There you put him on the couch. Now what? You'd taken a basic nursing course, and you had no idea if you were up to it. You got your first aid kit and got to work carefully. 

It was nearing midnight when you were done treating him. He had so many wounds that needed stitches that you stopped counting. He was so bruised that you had no idea where his tattoos ended and where his bruises were. 

You folded up his bloody white shirt and blue vest and put them in a pile on your desk. After you cleaned and patched certain areas, you covered him with a blanket to keep him warm. Now that he wasn't covered in blood, you could safely say he was quite handsome. 

When you woke up that morning, the man was gone. The blanket you'd covered him with was folded neatly on the couch, and there was little indication that he'd ever been here.

You thought it was strange, but decided not to look into it. Especially when you looked at the account that had received an incredibly large sum of money from the masked account. It almost made you drop your phone. 

It's been almost two weeks since the incident without anything happening. You were under the impression that everything was fine. But you still refused to use the strange money. 

You came home from work a little early because the nursery had to close early because of sick children. You bought a coffee and headed slowly home. You were coming down the main street when someone pulled a dark bag over your head. You automatically grabbed the pepper spray, which looked like pocket perfume.

The kidnappers threw you into a car that took you God knows where. It was a short trip, though, or so it seemed to you. when you arrived at your destination, you got out and were approached by someone on each arm and led blindly into a building. It was only when they sat you down in a chair that they took the bag off your head. 

You blinked a few times and waited for your eyes to adjust to the gloom that was there. You sat in a small grey room. Two men stood in front of you, looking you over. One of them turned his back to you and said something into the radio, while the other leaned closer to you. 

Still clutching the pepper spray, you decided to act. You sprayed the first one in the eye. You jumped to your feet, thankful that you hadn't been handcuffed. 

You kicked the second one between the legs and sprayed him in the eyes as well before running out the door and heading down the hallway somewhere. Behind you, you heard screams and footsteps approaching fast. You had to hide. 

You grabbed the handle of the first door that came to hand. Luckily for you, it was unlocked. You slipped inside, closed it, and leaned against the door. You tried to calm your racing heart and you listened. 

You sighed as the footsteps passed you and allowed yourself to look around the room. You stopped when your gaze lingered on the table that stood directly across from the door. He was looking at you from the table. The man you had saved two weeks ago. He was obviously writing something, but just as you burst through the door, his pen fell out of his hand in surprise. 

"You?" you asked in unison. You took a few steps closer to him. Now that you could see him properly, you had to admit he was hot. Sharp features, a well-groomed goatee, slick quality clothes, and piercing, intelligent eyes that seemed to see right into your soul. 

You were about to say something when the men burst in with red teary eyes and murderous stares. 

"Sorry boss, we'll get her out of here right now," they said as they noticed you and tried to take you away. You immediately backed away from them and almost crashed into his desk. 

"Enough! What's that supposed to mean?" Their boss thundered, standing up. The men immediately paused and looked at him in incomprehension. 

"Boss?" they wanted to object, but he stopped them. 

"Y/N is my guest and you will treat her as such," he said in a voice that almost made you feel sorry for them. You were glad you were safe though. The men immediately apologized, bowed and left. You were left alone with him. 

"If it's about the money, I didn't touch it," you said, as you were afraid it might be related. The fact that he knew your name was weird, but that seemed like the smallest thing at the moment. 

He reassured you, however, that the money was a gift for saving and treating him. He owed you. You tried to reassure him that he didn't owe you anything, but he stood his ground.

He apologized for his people, who only wanted revenge on the people who beat him up, but they were obviously wrong. He wanted to pay you for that, too, but you refused immediately. Finally, he offered to at least give you a ride home.

"Thank you..." and you had no idea how to address him. 

"I'm Hanzo," he introduced himself and bowed. 

You were just out for a walk and you were lost deep in your thoughts, completely oblivious to the outside world. Most people automatically avoided you, so you were able to continue on undisturbed. 

You were crossing a small wooden bridge when you bumped into someone. You were completely thrown off and ended up on the ground. You started to automatically apologize when you finally noticed who it was that you ran into. To your surprise, it was Hanzo, and he seemed just as startled as you were. 

"I'm sorry," he said, helping you to your feet. However, rather than going your separate ways, you went for a walk together. You had a pleasant chat and Hanzo invited you to have a coffee.

You were comfortable with him and slowly you began to see each other more often. He invited you to dinner at his loft apartment, where he hired a private chef. 

Hanzo was very slow to open up to you, but you got the impression that it was all the more serious between you. The biggest twist for you was when he gave you a key to his apartment so you could visit him freely. 

Neither of you, however, noticed the hired photographer following your every move the entire time. 

You were just returning from dinner when several men appeared behind you and you felt something cold pressed against your back. You looked apprehensively at Hanzo, who also paused.

He didn't seem at all surprised, but having been with him for a while, you knew he was startled too. The men then put bags over your heads and pushed you into the car.

The car drove you to the docks somewhere. You judged that from the screams of the seagulls. There they put you in chairs in a warehouse of some kind. They strapped you to the chairs before they took the bags off your heads. There were a dozen men with guns standing around you.

In the middle of them was a man who looked like their leader, who spoke to you in Japanese. You knew the language, as Hanzo sometimes spoke it, but you didn't understand it. Plus, he spoke too fast for your taste. He was talking to Hanzo about something. They looked at you several times. 

The enemy commander shouted something and his men freed you. They took you by the hand and threw you out, threatening to kill you if you called the police or came back. 

You knew they were serious and you nodded your head in agreement. You'd love to go back in, but you'd only endanger Hanzo. You were wondering what to do next when the gunshots rang out. The sound alone shook you and brought tears to your eyes as it sounded like an execution. 

With shaky legs, you stood up and slowly walked back towards the bridge. If it was what you thought it was, you wouldn't even see the body. He must have interceded for you to live. You kept hoping he would somehow survive, but the chances were slim. 

You went back to your apartment and there you collapsed into bed and cried. You cried until you ran out of tears, and even then you didn't feel any better. 

Ever since that incident, you've felt like a dark cloud has been hanging over you. Everywhere you went, you thought you saw Hanzo. Either it was an illusion or you were recalling memories of your time together in that place. 

After about a week, when you were able to function normally, you sorted Hanzo's stuff out of your apartment and since you still had the key to his apartment, you decided it would be best to return his stuff to him with the key. You only left one of his shirts at home as a souvenir. It was almost dark, but that didn't deter you. 

You called a taxi to take you to the right address. You took the elevator to the top floor and were about to unlock it when you found it was unlocked. 

You opened the door and slipped inside. The room was completely dark and the only light was provided by the city lights. To your surprise, there was a figure standing outside the windows that looked remarkably like Hanzo. However, his skin was an unnatural grey color in the light, and his normally blue tattoos played with red colors. 

"Hanzo?" You asked hesitantly, setting his things to the side. It was clear he had heard you, as he tilted his head slightly towards you at the sound of his name before looking ahead again. 

You were already about to go to him when he ordered you not to. You frowned and felt tears start to stream down your cheeks. It was his voice that you had missed for so long. Despite his warning, you walked over to him and hugged him from behind. 

"All this time I thought you were dead," you said through sobs. He took your hands, but otherwise said nothing. "I'm glad you're alive. Why haven't you called me? Please don't do this to me anymore," you said when you had calmed down a little. This was the first time he'd heard you this vulnerable. 

"Being with me is too dangerous," he finally said. 

"Maybe, but I'm okay with that," you replied determinedly. You heard the man in your arms sigh before he let go of your hands and turned away. 

"You don't understand. I'm a monster. Much worse than the yakuza," he said sternly, stroking your cheek and making you look at him. 

The first thing you noticed were his eyes, which glowed white and lacked the classic irises and lenses. Just plain white. His eyes were framed with red markings and he had two small horns on his forehead. Your gaze drifted down to his mouth, which was slightly ajar and from which protruded upper and lower fangs that were inhumanly long and sharp.

You knew very well what he was up to. He was trying to intimidate you. He tried the same thing on you at the beginning of your relationship. It didn't work before, and it certainly didn't work on you now.

You took the hand that was still on your face and smiled at him, completely disarming him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in close. 

"Not now. Don't screw up now. Now I'm glad you're alive and I'm not going to spoil it for you," you said sweetly, kissing him on the lips. It was a small kiss, but you knew how much it worked on him.