For easy reading, I’ve compiled all of my fills into this masterlist right here. They’re organised by fandom, then by character in alphabetical order.
Unfortunately, the links in this masterlist only work on mobile. I don’t know why it doesn’t work on desktop, but luckily tags still work. If you’d like to search for a particular character or kink, I usually tag it in the work.
Will try to update this masterlist whenever I can. Enjoy!
YOU REALLY SHOULDN’T HAVE REQUESTED THIS BECAUSE NOW I’M GOING ALL OUT ON IT!
Genji was incredibly nervous. No, incredibly nervous doesn’t describe this. Genji was absolutely downright terrified. The only time he ever got called to the couch to talk about something was when he was in huge trouble, and now that you had something you needed to bring to his attention (again) he was practically shaking underneath his mask. However, for being in trouble you sure did lack an angry expression. You looked happy– almost excited– and it was sending him all sorts of mixed signals.
You present Genji with a wrapped box and he was already about to tear into it, knowing how much your boyfriend loves presents. You place your warm hand on top of his cold ones to stop him from going any further.
“Mask off!” You demand with a smile.
He does as he’s told and removes his mask. Your smile widens into a grin when your eyes meet the scarred face you just so happened to fall in love with. Even the fangs and protruding teeth were all just something to enjoy about him– and now, you’re going to be seeing them a lot more often. That is, if your child carries Genji’s Oni traits. Regardless, just knowing you were having his child was enough for you.
You now let Genji tear into the box with a force of a thousand suns. The first thing that he sees is a small, white stick… in fact, it’s the only thing that he sees. He’s careful to pick it up with his sharpened nails and he glances over the surface. Two little lines draw themselves across a digital surface. To the left, it reads “pregnant” and “not pregnant”.
It takes only a moment to put two and two together. Then he starts to smile an incredibly fanged grin.
“The baby? Is it mine?” Genji asks.
“Well, you’re the only person who I’ve been… never mind. Yes, the baby is yours!” You meet his enthusiasm.
“It’s my baby?!” Genji asks again.
“Yes, Genji! It’s your baby!”
The Oni tackles you to the couch cushions with tears beginning to form in his white eyes. Even Soba, who was not fond of most children out of fear, was absolutely ecstatic to hear the news.
“Be careful with my stomach!” You remind him.
Genji shifts his weight almost instantaneously. Soba curls around your stomach protectively as Oni places a sprawled out hand across the fabric of your shirt.
“Mine.” Genji smiles. “No. Ours.”
You place a soft kiss to his cold lips.
“Ours.” You repeat.
a/n: sweetie your speaking to me in the volumes of my language for soulmate au’s with genji. hope that this is okay!
Sometimes you wondered what kind of person your soulmate is, waking up with the occasional sharp stinging pain that you know came from your soulmate. You no longer jumped out of your bed to see how bad the slap was, but you did calmly walk to get some ice for the slap.
Smaller knicks and cuts would also appear on your skin. Some a little deep, but nothing too bad that it was worrisome, your soulmate seemed very much like a schoolyard punk.
But everything up to that amounted to nothing, the pain bearable, the bruises easily explained and hidden underneath your uniform, but one particular day is worse than everything you’ve experienced through this bond.
A sharp piercing pain, your breath stolen from you, bile mixed with blood forcing you to your knees. Causing your teammates to cover you in the field, calling for an immediate withdraw for you off the field. Several lacerations littered your body, staining your uniform a dark red.
Your teammates are concerned, worried about why you were suddenly covered in cuts and bleeding. The last thing you remember is hearing your teammates begging you to stay awake and Angela’s voice.
You survived, but you would have to live with your scars.
The world was muffled like you were underwater, but at the same time not. Just floating slightly beneath the surface, upon opening your eyes you were freed from that feeling.
‘You saved your Soulmate’s life.’ that’s what Angela told you after you had woken up, and proceeded to tell you every step of the way even after you left her med bay. Today your legs took you there, after all when the head medic of Overwatch ask for your presence you answer it rather than avoid it.
Opening the door to Angela’s clinic, you heard her voice and another, angrier Japanse voice spitting at Angela. Stomping on her words all growls and anger.
When two sets of eyes landed on you your heart slammed against your chest. Angela had a smile on her face, and the Japanese man looked stunned. His scars so similar to your own, you felt as if your breath was stolen from your lungs.
Your interactions with the man were brief, something that was quick and to the point. Always glaring, always short with you, but the two of you sought one another out after that meeting in the med bay.
“So does my soulmate have a name?” you asked, out of the blue one day confusing the angry cyborg ninja.
“What?”
“You know that thing was called at birth or chose for yourself? What’s you’re name? Mines [Full Name], thought that it would be nice to know the name of the man who I saved with our bond.”
He was quite, red eyes focused on even the smallest of movements and breaths.
“Shimada Genji.” was his reply, before he turned to look back at the scenery without giving you a second glance. Following his line of sight to look at where the sun met the horizon.
“Nice to meet you Genji.”
Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad just have to break through that shell of his and show him that you meant no harm. Baby steps.
You’re alright 🙂 Haven’t gotten many embarrassed prompts.
It is rare that Hanzo meditates in the same room and the same time as Genji, so rare that the younger brother gapes at the sight of his brother’s broad form sitting upon the tatami mat. The cyborg doesn’t say a word but creeps closer, kneeling down gingerly on a cushion next to Hanzo as though approaching a prey animal.
Luckily for him, Hanzo merely cracks open an eye and closes it again, sighing a deep sigh and rolling his shoulders. “Genji.”
“Aniki,” Genji nods in return and is about to turn his attention to the arresting scenery when he spots the deep marks that were gouged into his brother’s back and neck. “Uhhh, aniki?”
“Hm?” Hanzo doesn’t even bother to turn his head to acknowledge his brother.
“Are those…are those scratches on your back?” the cyborg points out, though he doesn’t mention the dark bite marks on the archer’s neck, nor does he mention the hickies that are visible around the nape of his neck.
Immediately, Hanzo stiffens and his eyes pop open. Heat rises in his cheeks and Genji thinks his brother might light on fire if he were to blush more. His hands twitch and he forcibly, in an attempt at nonchalance, tugs up the collar of his shirt so it sits high on his neck. It still doesn’t hide the dark marks or the reddened skin, though Hanzo’s blush does start to hide them quite well as the flush travels down his neck.
The silence between them turns awkward as Hanzo is torn between attempting indifference or running away as fast as his legs can take him. Luckily, his decision is made for him.
“So…” Genji starts, and Hanzo’s head swivels over in horror, “Who screamed more? You, or her?”
It turns out that it’s Genji who screams the most, in laughter anyway, particularly when his brother throws him out the window in mortified embarrassment.
Reinhardt kneels before you, resplendent in his polished armour. He smiles at your gentle touch on his cheek and leans into it, “I truly feel like a knight before a queen.”
You laugh, “I sure hope so. This coat wasn’t cheap, mind you.”
Although the grey and blue lingerie wasn’t cheap either, with its intricate lace and detail. He nuzzles your stocking clad foot when you bring it to his chin, his metal encased fingers feeling strange through the fabric. Reinhardt kisses your foot, then your calf, then all the way up to your thigh before he stops at your hip.
“May I touch myself, your majesty?” he moans, feeling his codpiece press into his burgeoning erection.
“If you can get your greaves and your codpiece and your underarmour off, sure,” you grin meanly and tangle your fingers into his hair.
He pouts at you, “Meanie.”
Hauling his face back into your crotch, you laugh, “You love it.”
Reinhardt’s lips and tongue are busy, but he murmurs his response into your skin anyway. “I do.”
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