Hi There! I'm Hopping On Board With Your Requests, And Am Very Politely Asking If You Would Be Willing

Hi there! I'm hopping on board with your requests, and am very politely asking if you would be willing to write some NSFW headcanons for Coyle? Please and thank you! ♡♡♡

hii ofc i can! <3 nsfw under da cut

"I'll have you on your knees..."

Coyle is very heavy on having firm control over you - as evidenced by the way he'll have you in any way he wants. A favourite of his though, is having you between his knees - baton pressed against your cheek and cock lodged deep down your throat. Sometimes he'll have his baton crackle to life and give himself a shock - combining the sensations and making you choke in surprise around his throbbing shaft.

He likes a bit of fire. Likes to watch you squirm while he fucks you - bent over one of the desks in the police station - paperwork strewn messily across the floor. He'll curl an elbow around your neck, grasping your chin and keeping you pinned in a headlock as he ruts his heavy cock into your sweet little hole, having you bite into the leather of his sleeve to ground yourself.

Likes it when you behave, but it makes his cock stiffen when you don't. Leland loves to think he's teaching you a very valuable lesson by catching you and fucking you into the tough marble floor - the slap of his pelvis against your ass loud enough to attract the attention of stray Ex-Pop nearby. But he makes sure they know just who's prisoner you are, huffing and growling into the crook of your neck as he grinds his cock in that particular motion that makes you sing like a caged canary.

After a long day, Coyle likes a long drag of a cigarette, a drink and a sweet little pussy for him to bury his face into. His beard is scratchy against your inner thighs - tickling the plush flesh as he drags his heavy tongue through your folds, not hesitating to plunge back into your sweet little hole. He'll hold your thighs open and eat you up until he's had his fix, giving a pleased and appreciative grunt every time you come undone in his mouth.

Gives you a little spark from the baton once in a while - not enough to fry you - but certainly enough to get you to squeal. He's not nice about it either, rather more pleased with himself as he grips his belt, his hand coming down to grope his hardening cock through his trousers. Sometimes he'll swoop in right after for a rough kiss, his beard scraping your cheeks as his hand comes to cup your jaw.

Coyle will handcuff those pretty wrists behind your back and have you ride him until the cows home home - or, at least until you're whining and drooling at him to fuck you proper, which he's all too happy to deliver on. Pinning you down, his chest pressed against your back - his gear digging into you as he stretches your pretty little hole open. Growling about how he'd rehabilitate you - or better yet, keep you caged up - just for him, and him only.

"Oh, sweetness." >>>

Doomfist who just doesn’t care mind flaunting his money for you, in fact he insists that you take his card with you wherever you go. He’s absolutely loaded and you couldn’t even make a dent in his pocket no matter what you spend.

He’s quite happy to spend it for you, if you’re a little unsure about taking his money. Akande will take you for decadent dinner dates and line your wardrobe with expensive clothes and fine lingerie - only for his eyes, of course.

He’ll never ask for anything back, but he’ll take his prize in the form of tearing whatever lingerie you’ve bought off with his teeth.

hanzo shimada with dragon shifter reader? thank you i love youuu!!!

i love this?? i love you?? mildly sleep deprived while writing these

Hanzo is intrigued, more than anything. His uptight demeanour holds him back from directly approaching you, yet when he incidentally comes across you in the training room, he can't help but feel a luring sense of curiosity. Naturally stealthy, Hanzo watches from the wall - a small sense of awe overtaking him when you shift fully into the most magnificent creature he'd ever seen. You were not like his own two Japanese dragons, you were a large Wyvern, with scales that glittered like sea glass and a moonstone underbelly to match.

Ever since that encounter, his tattoo had itched, his dragons itching to wind free from his arm with flowering curiosity. When it became too much, and the dragons sprung free by their own sheer will - the archer set to seek you out. And while you weren't necessarily hard to find, Hanzo had been softened to find you, sat cross-legged while his dragons snaked around your waist and arms playfully. You returned them in kind - playfully blowing billowing smoke from your nostrils onto their little whiskers, a neat little trick you could do in human form. Hanzo later discovered that you couldn't produce fire whilst human because it would damage you, yet small amounts of smoke was completely plausible.

It's a sweet interaction between you both. Hanzo's dragons weren't usually so bold or disobedient to his commands and when he bashfully tried to call them back - you simply smiled at him, telling him that you didn't mind at all. Hanzo soon finds comfort in your company, his dragons crooning at the familiarity, beckoning him towards you every time. You both grow closer, and Hanzo finds a small warmth that kindles him every time he catches your eye.

Missions are made much easier with you - and Hanzo will never admit it, but the thrill he gets from riding you into battle will never get old. Your wings are strong, beating down on the wind as he sits upon the base of your neck - his keen eye watching over the elegant crest of your head - Hanzo fires one arrow, striking two enemies down.

While in dragon form, Hanzo makes it a point to make sure you're well taken care of. He'll strike down any enemy that even dares aim for your vulnerable underbelly, or gently help pry off any scales you may be shedding. Cassidy caught him pocketing the scales you shed, yet neglected to say anything due to the fond look that flashed across Hanzo's face. The archer deserved some peace.

When the nights are cold, Hanzo comes to you. You run warm, due to the dragon blood coursing your veins. Yet as much as he can bluff or scoff at anyone's accusations, at the end of the day, it's true that even in summer - he'd still seek your touch.

Bro I cant even think of specifics would you be able to write a Cassidy drabble i need him incredibly bad

save a horse...yk the drill <3 nsfw below da cut

Cassidy grunts softly, chewing on the end of his cigar as you make your way over with a disapproving look on your face, you're shaking your head and grumbling at the sight of his injuries. He could care less about his scuffed up state - not when it was you tending to him. Cole is quick to flick the ash away, chucking the cigar and stomping it out once you reach his side.

Cassidy proudly presents himself to you as if his injuries were a badge of honour, grinning to himself when you fail to keep your stern expression, a small smile gracing your perfect lips. You're quick to cut through the fabric of his shirt to get to the nasty gash beneath, and he exhales through his teeth once your warm palms ghost his skin.

He should feel guilty - really, fantasising about the sweet little apprentice medic just doing her job. But he just can't help himself, shifting a hand over his belt uneasily when his mind starts to wander to deeper territories.

Cassidy wonders if you'd scream for him when he speared you open on his meaty cock, crying out his name as he pins you down with his bulk, grinding into you as you grasp at the cotton of his bedsheets below. He wonders if you'd claw at his back, marking him up and scratching gently at the weathered skin as he bullies the fat tip of his cock into your needy hole.

He'd cup your jaw, holding your chin gently as if to guide you whilst you parted those pretty lips around his shaft. Would you look up at him with watery eyes, fluttering your lashes like the sweet thing you were? Or would you take him to the hilt, gagging messily around his cock like a little slut?

Would you beg for more? Would you drool into his sheets as he holds your thighs apart, watching the way his cock disappears into your hot, wet cunt?

Cole shudders, just the thought of your pretty little pussy enough to have him hardening in his trousers. You're too focused on mending the wound on his side - your touches soft and fleeting. He wants nothing more than to bury his face between your thighs, he wants to eat you out until you're whiny and overstimulated, he wants to hear you complain about the beard burn between your legs the morning after. He wants you--

You suddenly clear your throat, and his honey brown eyes snap to you with the same sleazy gleam you'd grown accustomed to. You gesture towards his side, all immaculately cleaned up and covered with protective dressing.

Cassidy grins, tipping a hat to you with the intent of asking you for a drink later. "Thanks, doc."

++ Akande curling his arm around your neck, sandwiching your cheeks between his bicep and forearm as his hips snap harshly against the fat of your ass, filling you in one smooth motion.

He’s murmuring into your neck - about how pretty and good you are for him, his voice deep and timbre - rumbling against your skin.

He likes you like this - pinned beneath his bulk, fucked so silly that you’re whining and drooling into his expensive silk sheets.

Akande could care less - not with the way the lingerie he’d bought you lay tattered around the room - and especially not with the way you clench so sweetly around his cock—

Doomfist who just doesn’t care mind flaunting his money for you, in fact he insists that you take his card with you wherever you go. He’s absolutely loaded and you couldn’t even make a dent in his pocket no matter what you spend.

He’s quite happy to spend it for you, if you’re a little unsure about taking his money. Akande will take you for decadent dinner dates and line your wardrobe with expensive clothes and fine lingerie - only for his eyes, of course.

He’ll never ask for anything back, but he’ll take his prize in the form of tearing whatever lingerie you’ve bought off with his teeth.

Reinhardt who follows behind you like a guard dog, always at your heels like an oversized puppy. You’re happy to indulge him, finding it sweet - you even curl your hand up to card your fingers through his beard - and he practically purrs in delight.

It’s different for others though, who have to deal with your ‘guard dog.’ You’re oblivious as to why some of the agents you’ve flirted with soon turn tail and run with a horrified expression on their faces, only to turn around to find Reinhardt shrugging with the same confused expression you had.

They’re terrified of you and you have no idea why. Not even when you see the way Reinhardt’s hands curl around a gigantic mug of beer and make it seem miniature, not even when he sits in a chair and it practically groans under his weight, not even when he has to duck and squeeze through a doorway.

Especially not even when you (don’t) see him looming behind you, scaring off any potential suitors with a steely glare and a creaking grip on his hammer.

He’s just being friendly, after all.