Tag: genji x reader

Why So Many Pretzels

overwatch-reader-imagines:

Read-more for length.

Zenyatta willed the energy around him, energy thrumming through his orbs at his thoughts. He waved a hand to trail healing from his pupil before turning back to the Talon agents terrorizing the small community he and Genji stumbled upon. He took a breath, his orbs growing cold with his determination as he looked at their leader.

Genji blanched at sight of Doomfist, fear began to tumble inside the cyborg next to Zenyatta. From what he had been told of their last encounter, it wasn’t without reason.

“I am here to help,” Zenyatta said and Genji relaxed, trusting his master.

Genji arranged his shurikens with the whirl of his cybernetics, his face hardening under his mask. He didn’t know how long the two of them would last, neither of them meant for such on the field combat. If they could just hold the line to let everyone evacuate.

Well, it would be a good death.

He drew that familiar sense of discord from inside of him, putting it into one of his orbs. It trailed from Akande and Genji couldn’t help but wonder what Doomfists doubts were, seeing the man flinch a little.

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Okay, but where’s the next chapter?

overwatchchatroom:

Genji Shimada texting Headcanons

  • Okay first things first
  • COMPLIMENTS GALORE BOYYY
  • Never stops complimenting you via text message or face to face tbh
  • Takes pictures of u from a distance
  • After he sends u the picture he’ll say something like
  • “You look absolutely breathtaking as always, my love.”
  • And when u turn around to see where he’s standing
  • He gone
  • Poof ninja
  • It’s become a game at this point tbh
  • He’s send u a picture of u
  • You turn around to see if u can catch him
  • But you never do sadly and to his amusement
  • “Being a ninja is cheating, you jerk >:(“
  • In the end he always comes up behind u and picks you up and spins you around
  • Which scares you most of the time
  • He laughs when you scream
  • Asshole.
  • He’ll also sends you pictures of his brother
  • It’s usually just Hanzo glaring at someone or him.
  • Genji has sent you a picture.
image
image
  • Y/N: big mood.
  • You two have a good laugh abt the pictures
  • Hanzo doesn’t know this is going on surprisingly
  • Anyway
  • When you’re off in a mission Genji will send you texts like
  • “I wish you were here. It’s kinda lonely.”
  • “I bought a movie I think you’d like. When you come back let’s have a movie night and cuddle.”
  • “I miss your kisses.”
  • He’s super sweet bye.
  • Sometimes Zenyatta texts you on his phone.
  • They’ll pass his phone around to talk to you.
  • Genji also teaches you Japanese.
  • He’ll mess with u if you don’t know Japanese.
  • He texts you and he might be behind you and he’s texting u in Japanese and he fucking internally laughs at you as u get frustrated
  • But he loves u he swears
  • That little shit.

The Nesting Sparrow

Inspired by this art

“I am trying,” Hanzo told Genji, eyeing his brother with a mix of defensiveness and apprehensiveness, when he joined Overwatch. Trying to accept that Genji forgave him. It was strange to say in your opinion, but the situation itself was strange to begin with. Normal rules may not apply.

There was no neat analogy for how they circled each other, awkwardly for a few weeks. What to do next, was the hurdle in front of them. What to say that won’t be accidentally jabbing a finger into an old wound that still needed time to heal. Wounds that they may not even know they have.

It made you anxious, but you tried not to fuss. Three people on edge instead of two was not the answer to the above questions. You did your best to act casually around the both of them. Supporting Genji, and getting along with Hanzo. You ignored their sadly awkward behaviour in hopes that it would change.

So at first it didn’t sink in that they were getting along much better the last time you saw them. You almost walked past, not seeing that Hanzo held his little brother in his lap. They had their heads together, close enough to whisper the odd comment, joke, or whatever they were talking about; it didn’t matter. You did stop to stare, but the pair ignored your presence for their smartphones. Which did not annoy you in the slightest.

“Listen to this one,” Genji said, and Hanzo pressed his ear to the portion of Genji’s head just below his antenna. Hanzo’s eyes wandered as he listened intently to the song playing inside Genji’s helmet.

“It hurts to play it that loud,” Genji explained when the song stopped.

Hanzo nodded.

“Also, if anyone listened to this frequency, they would get a rude surprise. I have been scolded by Athena more times than I count,” Genji chuckled.

Hanzo went back to thumbing at his phone’s screen. “It is not your fault that the AI has poor taste.”

“I heard that,” said her soothing voice from all around.

The side of Hanzo’s mouth curled upwards. Genji sported a similar smirk behind his faceplates. He lay his head against Hanzo’s, no music playing this time. Hanzo freed his arm from between them and wrapped his arm around Genji’s hips. He pulled his brother closer.

“Your cyborg ass is digging into my leg,” Hanzo growled quietly.

Genji hummed and shifted around in his seat, then settled back into leaning into Hanzo, who left his arm where it was. Genji took no offense at Hanzo’s annoyance. As the younger brother, it is Genji’s job to be annoying, and Hanzo’s job to correct him. It seemed right for them to be like this. You did your best to avoid disturbing them, but you did reach for Genji’s hand. You gave it an affectionate squeeze when he glanced up at you. Then you moved on.
You asked Genji later in private how he felt about the recent development.

“Umm,” he said, seeming terribly unsure.

He fumbled with unlatching his faceplates. You saw his fingers shake and held out your hands to catch the pieces of metal when he did drop them. Already, a fat tear was making its way down and over the scars on his cheek. He dove for your arms the second you raised them to hold them out to him.

“I am happy,” he sobbed loudly into your shoulder, crying damp patches into the fabric.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you whispered repeatedly, hugging him tight and swaying with him. And then, “Okay, Genji, you’re too heavy for me. C’mon.”

Can I get uhhh yandere genji w reader in spreader bars getting fucked while he whispers loving sweet nothings

fatalwatch:

i lovvvvvvvved this ask   ´･ᴗ･`warnings: noncon below the cut

You said you weren’t ready because you were afraid it would hurt because it was your first time, which wasn’t the truth at all, but Genji didn’t need to know that. At first, you were successful in your attempt to sedate him from taking you without your consent.

He said he understood and wouldn’t do anything to feel even a slight bit of uncomfortableness. He said he would be patient and wait, promising you that he would treat you with the utmost care and gentleness to ensure your pleasure when you were ready. But it’s hard to stay patient when you’re right there for him to take.

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The White Tiger Ch 2

The thought of not showing tomorrow and forgetting the whole thing tugged weakly at the back of your mind, but it was small enough to ignore. All the time spent just going about your business, your little insignificant life, left you with a thirst for adventure. The thirst had you, and you didn’t even know.

The White Tiger had you show up after every shift you had. He somehow knew your work schedule. But you put that aside, because you saw improvement. You started to win more often while sparring with your coworker. He noticed the first time he landed on his back instead of you.

He groaned from the ground. You bent down to grasp his hand and help him up. He groaned equally as loudly coming up.

“You’re different today,” he said, smacking different sections of his armour to get the dust off.

“Yeah,” you said vaguely, deciding what to say next. You grabbed his glaive and yours and handed your companion his. Surely, he wouldn’t believe you about being trained by a god.

“What happened? Have you been sparring with someone else?” he teased, lightly punching your arm.

“Ummm,” you replied. You were redfaced, wide-eyed, and terrible at keeping a secret.

Your friend leaned forward and smirked. “Finally found a friend to help you out,” he said, and he winked with a goofy grin. He thought you needed a good, rough roll in the hay. You already felt inadequate on your feet, being on your back would probably not be much better.

“Absolutely not.”

“I may be simple, but I know people. You are better than the captain treats you.” He nodded to himself, the teasing nature of his voice gone. “I’m not surprised someone else saw this and wanted to help out.”

“I do appreciate it, although I don’t trust him.”

“Tsk, you never trust anyone. I suppose that’s why you still have a job,” he said, grinning at you, “You can sniff out the troublemakers.”

You punched your friend in a gap in his armour, where his arm met his torso. He flinched but giggled.

The White Tiger trained you, as he said he would. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. That had you suspicious.

“Tell me the truth,” you said one day. “Why do you want to teach me?”

“I like fighting. It is a worthy challenge,” he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet, making the tail on his helm swish, “I also like teaching it. I get a swell of pride seeing you improve,” he said. Then he said more lightly, more playfully, “Perhaps one day we could do more than fight.”

You snorted at his attempt to flirt and nodded at him, “Let’s go.”

That training session went the same as the ones before. But the why still nagged at you. You weren’t special. In fact, you considered yourself weaker than the average guardsman. You couldn’t concentrate properly during training. You managed to hide it from the White Tiger until he landed a punch on your face.

Holding your aching nose with one hand, and tapping your upper lip with your fingertips for blood with the other, you realized he’d never hit you in the face before. You also realized he’d stopped attacking. You regarded him through tears streaming down your face.

“What is wrong, today?” the White Tiger god asked, putting a hand on your shoulder. He rubbed with his thumb. “Are you sick?”

“No,” you protested, taking his hand away.

You took a step back, disengaged from the fight.

“I just…I don’t understand. Why are you doing this for me? I am grateful, don’t get me wrong. I just…”

“You do not trust me. You trust me not to kill you every time we train, but you don’t trust me. You are a confusing person.”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“No, I have hid too much for from you. You never asked me much. Maybe it is time I showed you something.”

The White Tiger god reached up and worked his helm upwards. He lifted it up and off his head. He had a small smile, waiting for your reaction. You were shocked, taking a step back. Your grip on your glaive loosened, then you dropped it and fell prostrate to the ground. This was not the reaction he was hoping for.

“Why are you…?” He nudged your helmet with his foot.

When you lifted your head, you yelled, “Are you crazy?!”

He stepped back. The second son of the emperor, Prince Genji, gazed down at you, his brows knit together in confusion. You were thinking back to all the times you sassed him, or worse, hit him.

“You know what the punishment is for disrespect to members of the royal family!” you went on yelling. “How could you trick me?!”

“I-I thought you knew! Who did you think I was?”

“I thought you were…” you stopped. You felt foolish. You thought a human was a god. This man seemed exactly the type to laugh at you for it. You awkwardly got to your feet. “Nothing! Leave me alone. Let me do my job. Don’t tell anyone!”

You felt the ensuing silence, and his gaze, on your back and shoulders as you turned around, picked up your glaive, and stalked away, anger, nervousness, and embarrassment bouncing around inside you like pinballs. Hopefully, he listened to you and forgot the whole thing. The last thing you needed was to be relieved from your job.

The next week you took more busy routes back to the barracks and back home. You hurried home quickly, a confusing feeling mentally on your heels. You missed the man who had trained you. The man who you had begrudgingly admired as a god and turned out to be mortal. Your life was empty and boring without your training sessions with the prince. At the end of a week without seeing Prince Genji, you mentally kicked yourself, because you were going to ask your shiftmate about him instead of forgetting about him.

“Heeey,” you asked as casually you could.

“Hmm?”

“You know anything about Prince Genji?”

He paused.

“Yeah, some. Waddya wanna know?”

“I dunno. Anything. How does he fit in with the royal family?”

All the of members of the royal family have a history of drama. They live out a soap opera, heads up their own asses, behind gilded doors on the masses’ dime. You weren’t sure you wanted to get tangled up in that.

“You know how it is; he doesn’t get along with his family. But who among them does?” He shrugged. “But here’s the interesting thing, since he isn’t the heir, he can skip off on some adventure. Do whatever he wants. Then he comes home, hangs around, gets into another fight, and leaves again.”

“Ah. What about him and Prince Hanzo?”

“The rumour is they get along like fire and water.”

“I get that they’re opposites, but what does that even mean?”

He shrugged.

“I am no philosopher.”

You hummed in agreement. Neither of you had a fondness for flowery words and hidden meanings.

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “I remember I heard another rumour about Prince Genji. He’s home now, because Emperor Sojiro is tired of him spending money on those adventures.”

“Really? I never heard this.”

“You should join me for a drink sometime. I hear all sorts of things.”

“Ahhhh, no,” you said, waving his suggestion off, “Last time that happened, someone propositioned me.”

Your companion went silent then. He doubled over a bit and wheezed. Then he leaned further and wheezed louder.

“Stop laughing,” you ordered him.

“I…can’t breathe…” he whispered out. His face such a deep red that he’d be choking in any other circumstance.

“Please…” he touched your arm, snorting and making all sorts of ridiculous noises.

You batted it away. “No.”

You watched him shake a little more before straightening up and continuing. He spoke while wiping his face dry with his palms.

“Anyway, he could teach you a thing or two. Word is, he’s bedded half the city, men and women. You should seek his wisdom,” he said, wiggling his hips in a suggestive manner.

“Ahhhh, no. Thank you. You loon.”

The truth was, you did seek him out. Intending to demand answers. To shake him and make the truth fall out. The truth of why you had fallen for a spelunking ladies’ man. You returned to the side road where you originally found him. You paced back and forth, glaring around, and holding your glaive tightly. Your fingers ached by the time a familiar voice called to you. You don’t know what he said or had any intention of replying. You just whipped around to face him.

“How many?” you demanded.

“How many what?”

“How many…have you fucked? You wanna fuck me, too? This is a very strange way to court someone. Is this how the women in the palace like it? Some sparring and a fuck after?”

Genji snorted in disgust.

“No. Court ladies are like icicles in clothing. They give me the cold shoulder and chase after my brother instead, because he’s the heir. I like the people outside the castle much better. They don’t treat me like I am not good enough for them.”

Genji’s face had a mixture of the previous disgust and a new emotion. Sadness, or maybe disappointment.

“You listened to the rumours about me,” Genji stated.

“It’s what I heard, yes.”

“Did you hear about how I never stay at home?”

“Yes.”

“Did you think about why?”

Guilt nagged at your mind for a reason you couldn’t grasp yet. “No. I didn’t.”

“Because I know there is a whole world outside the city. Outside the petty bickering of the court inside the palace,” Genji told you earnestly. He spoke passionately, but his story had recently taken a sad turn, so spoke quietly the more he went on, “My father knows this, and it is why he let me fly the cage. But the court pressured him to lock me back in. I don’t blame my father, but I resent this. I miss meeting so many interesting people. I write to them often, but it is not the same.”

You regarded him with a pitying frown. Prince Genji was not the man you thought he was.

“You’re lonely,” you stated.

Genji looked down to the side, the least proud you had ever seen him.

“We could still train,” you offered. “If that’s what you want.”

His black eyes met yours, shiny with emotion. “I do.”

You gestured silently for him to walk with you to the usual spot where you trained. “I won’t tell anyone,” you whispered, gripping his arm.

“It’s okay,” he said, smiling weakly at you.

A comfortable silence blanketed you both as you walked. Halfway there, Genji spoke up.

“We don’t have to do…that. To fuck, in your ‘eloquent’ words.”

“We don’t?” you asked, surprised.

“No,” he said, “Do you think that when I spent all that time out of the city, all I did was hop from bed to bed?”

“…Guess not.”

It didn’t take long for you to reconsider, however.

“Maybe we could do…that.”

“Truly?”

“Maybe,” you mumbled.

“Oh, you are shy!” he exclaimed loudly, “How cute.”

“Shut up,” you said, shoving him in the arm. Or you tried to. You might as well be shoving a grown tree. He just grinned back.

You continued walking alongside him. He stopped you with a hand to your arm.

“I was serious before. We can stop at any time, but I would like to pleasure you in my bed. Just once.”

You pushed his hand away.

“Once?! Like the rest of your lovers? And where are they?”

He flinched, not expecting that reply.

“It could be more than once,” he said quietly, “if you wish.”

The serious look in his eyes scared you, but you did want this. So did the tingling flesh between your legs.

“Alright. Once.”

Genji was all smiles at that, like a pleased cat, rubbing his shoulder against yours affectionately as you walked together. He invited you to his room on your next free day.

The White Tiger

Link to AO3 Page

“Captain! Sir! I’m here!” you called to the man ahead of you. You carried with you a long glaive, a long staff with a double-edged blade on the top, hefting it as best you could to keep the butt from dragging on the ground.

You ran up to your boss, the Captain of the Guard, and your current shiftmate. They both wore full suits of clay-brown wooden armour, held together by red knots of rope. Pieces of polished bronze were layered over the wood in some places to add extra protection. The captain’s helmet sported a fluffed animal tail on the top, matching the red rope, marking his rank above yours.

“You’re late to your shift, Guardsman,” he warned, “And put on your helmet. I’ll have to find a replacement if you take an arrow to the skull.”

“Yessir,” you said, pulling it down over your hair. A spiked-shaped piece hung down from the front to cover your forehead, but you saw out of it well enough.

“Finally, I can go home.”

“Sir!” you and your companion said in unison as your boss walked away, leaving you to your duty.

Said companion turned to look down at you. He clapped you on the back, a hollow thunk against the armour. You nearly fell. You blushed in frustration, because you had just gotten used to the extra weight. He always had a kind word or two for you, even though you were the runt of the guards. You inherited this duty from your father, a tall and strong man, but you inherited your stature from your mother, a small and delicate woman.

“I know, it’ll be fine,” you sighed, parroting what your companion had said many times before. You were always stuck guarding an entrance to the city that few used. Nothing ever went wrong, so you couldn’t fail.

So little went on that you and your fellow guardsman practiced fighting. His kindness and patience extended to trying to help you get stronger and fight better. Maybe get promoted from this particular dull station. Neither of you were trying to actually cut or stab one another with the blade, but used the shafts like battlestaves, attempting to knock each other to the ground. You initially thought your small stature would give you an advantage in speed, but time and time again, your feet were knocked from underneath you.

Your friend patted your shoulder amiably when you decided you had had enough. The gloves from your uniform protected you from scrapes when you fell, but you were going to go home with bruises under your clothing from hitting the ground. You could only accumulate so many before yielding for the day. The practice was good exercise, but you knew in your gut you were hitting a wall. You stopped learning after a while. And your friend, while good company, was no teacher.

You didn’t dally on the way to the barracks to change out of your uniform after your shift ended. But you did take a badly-maintained side road. It had less people on it. You were in no more mood for people after work. So it shocked you when a gloved hand landed on your shoulder.

“Excuse me, Guardsman,” said a chipper male voice behind you.

You spun the sharp end of your glaive down and then up behind you, intending to gut whoever it was that got so close to you. Or at least warn them to back off.

“Careful, that is important.”

The loud tunk of metal against metal flipped a switch inside you, and you went into full alert. You twisted around and jumped back, glaive held defensively. A fully-armoured man stood there, combat-ready, and short sword level with the blade of your glaive. You spied a longer sword strapped to his back. It insulted you that he only stooped to using the smaller sword against you. Your gaze flicked from his weapons to his face, but it was covered by a mask in the shape of a large cat.

That put you into a different kind of alert. No one dressed like that in this area, or any area of which you knew.

“Think about this,” the dangerous-looking stranger said, “Do I look like someone you can defeat?”

“I have a right to defend myself,” you countered.

“I am not attacking,” he claimed.

“Then…why is your sword out?”

“You nearly sliced my dick in half.”

“Then don’t sneak up on me. It’s suspicious.”

This man snuck up on you while you were in guards’ colours; you had good reason to be defensive. He sighed. It raised your hackles that he spoke to you from behind a mask. But then he huffed in amusement and sheathed his sword, which rested against his lower back. You didn’t know how to feel then.

“I have seen you fight. You would not be able to defend yourself,” the man said, waving his hand dismissively.

Your hands tightened on the shaft of your glaive.

“So you came here to insult me. And you have been spying on me.”

“No. And yes.”

“Tell me the truth.”

“Fine. I will tell the truth,” he said more seriously and sheathed his sword. He spoke from his chest, “We are alone, you are the weaker of the two of us, I could have killed you five minutes ago, and I did not. That is not my intention.”

Damn him. He was right. Taking a side route today turned out to be unwise. Your hands twisted so tightly on of the shaft of your glaive, that you’d have blisters if not for your gloves. Your life could end today, and you could do very little to stop it. You hated this. If only you were a better warrior.

“What do you want?” you growled.

“To train you.”

Now that sounded too good to be true. There had to be a catch.

“In exchange for…?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing,” he confirmed.

“I don’t have anything for you to take from me, anyway,” you told him, just in case he was still planning to kill you and take your money.

He didn’t look like he needed it, though. His armour was the fanciest you had ever seen, although you didn’t get out much. The silver mail protecting his body made your bronze look like dull, used cast iron. It was polished so brightly, that you could probably use it as mirror to pick your teeth. You couldn’t miss his fiercely crafted helm and spaulders in the shape of a growling cats’ heads. A bright, white plume that put your captain’s to blushing shame adorned the top of his helm. So shiny and so well-crafted, almost divinely crafted. You asked him what it was.

“The White Tiger.”

“You mean you’re…?”

He nodded.

You started in astonishment, lifting a foot to step back. The White Tiger god stood before you. Offering to train you. You don’t turn down a god, but you shouldn’t trust them, either. They usually required favours in return. Maybe he was going to try to trick you, but you weren’t going to make it easy for him.

“Why me, then?”

“I am bored.”

Tch. Such a god thing to say. You didn’t like the idea of being a god’s plaything, but maybe you could get something useful out of this. And deal with the consequences later.

“Fine. Say I agree to let you teach me,” the White Tiger dipped his chin at the word ‘let’, “what now? What do we do?”

“I need to fight you myself to see how much training you have had. To know where to start.”

That was reasonable.

“Okay. When? Now?”

“Why not?” He made no move to unsheathe his swords. “Show me what you got.”

You attacked with your glaive with the intention to knock him off his feet like usual, but he dodged and somehow got in close. Your eyes followed his movements to a point, but you lost him after a few. He pushed you in the chest with the flat of his palm. You lost balance and fell back, but he caught you. All movement halted, and you were flustered when you realized he held you in a dip like a court lady at a dance.

“Let go of me! Let go of me!” you said, flailing angrily before he released, and you landed on the ground.

You were no court lady. You got to your feet, using your glaive to help you stand. Your feet scraped against the ground as you assumed the stance you were taught when always faced your kind fellow guardsman.

“Again?” the White Tiger asked, amused.

You held your weapon in both hands in front of you. They twisted on the shaft. You would love to get the chance to render him speechless by knocking the air out of his lungs with the butt of your glaive.

The White Tiger disarmed you this time, laid you out on your back and held the blade of your glaive against your neck.

“Perhaps we should strip down to the basics,” he said decidedly, stepping back and taking the blade away.

You shot him a suspicious look for his wording, but what he said had wisdom. You took your glaive from him and put it aside, and the White Tiger respectfully placed his swords against a tree. The next hour passed much like the sparring between yourself and your shiftmate. Except the White Tiger would halt the fight often and adjust your arms, legs, or posture.

“Hit me here,” he said, patting a gap in his armour, “And keep your elbow in, it’s giving away your next move.”

You lost track of time incorporating his bits of advice and trying to keep up with him. You suspected the White Tiger was holding back, because he didn’t throw you to the ground again. In fact, he let you take advantage of his top-heavy, muscular figure, and knock /him/ down. The sun was nearly down the last time he let you get the upper hand; the light was yellow and waning.

“Let us see how much you learned today. I won’t hold back.”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t shaken. A basic stance came to mind first, one hand in a fist, and one in front with a flat palm. The White Tiger mirrored you, except he curled his fingers towards his palms like claws.

You made the first move, sending a fist towards what you thought was an opening. A roar seared the air, and he grabbed your fist. You froze, and he bashed you in the side of the head with his free fist, fully disorienting you. He sank low and swept your legs with one of his, then guided you to land face-first as you fell. He gathered your arms behind you and sat with a knee on either side of your hips. His knees tightened slightly.

You tried to free yourself, but you only succeeded in smacking the side of your face back against the ground when he didn’t let go. He purred in triumph, a deep and slow sound that vibrated in your stomach.

“Are you surprised?” you asked flatly, and some dirt snuck into your mouth as you talked. You made a face, pressing your lips together.

“No,” the White Tiger said.

He lifted each knee to get up and free you from his hold. He momentarily placed his gloved hand in the middle of your back before straightening up. The imprint lingered and a chill tickled up to the base of your skull. Not ill feelings, but you still scrambled away as soon as you could. You rose to your feet, angrily demanding answers with your eyes, about why this god made you feel this way.

He crossed his arms tightly and burst out laughing. He tucked his head down, like he was trying to hold the sound in. “Your face!”

You weren’t getting any answers for now. You sniffed at him.

He quieted down to a smirk behind his helm and said, “Come back tomorrow at the same time.”

A super worried Genji gathering the courage to take off his helmet to show his s/o his face for the first time? ((Maybe some smooches :3 ))

overwatch-reader-imagines:

You looked at Genji fidgeting in the corner of your eye, wondering if you should say something. The cyborg looked like he has a great amount on his mind but you didn’t want to push him into something that would make him uncomfortable.

Just as you decided to go for it and ask what was bothering him, your boyfriend suddenly walking towards you before grasping your hands.

“I have something to show you,” he said and you looked at him, watching his hands move to his mask.

He slowly removed it and you felt the breath catch in your throat at the intensity in his eyes. Your hands moved to cup his cheek, gently stroking a thumb against the scars there.

You felt him tense up at your touch and you pressed your lips against his, Genji freezing before desperately pushing back. He was desperate for the touch, the only way he would pull away was to breathe.

Do you think you could do something with oni Genji & somnophilia?.. i

bloodandarrows:

Sure thing my dude

~ Wolfe

Oni!Genji x Reader (Somnophilia)

Leaping across the banister, the creature paused for a moment. His burning crimson eyes glowed slightly in the nightlight as he calculated his next move. Cautiously, he outstretched a muscular leg as he reached for the windowsill below him. In one effortless swoop, the demon caught himself on the open window frame before poising himself.

Narrowing his eyes, he surveyed the scene before him. If he was correct, he was sure this is where you lived. Genji had watched you with great interest, much to the annoyance of his brother, for months… Following you like a shadow, Genji’s gaze always became locked on your swaying hips as you walked. It drove him crazy to stare at those tight fitting jeans, how the hugged tightly to your body, emphasizing your curves and cupping your ass. God, it drove him nuts.

His assumptions were ….. as the sound of your soft breathing filled the air. Tilting his head in curiosity, he watched you moan softly, turning over in your bed. The white sheets slipped off your shoulder, causing your soft skin to shine in the filtered moonlight. Genji shuddered as you parted your lips, your eyes fluttering beneath your long lashes as you dreamed, he realized then… he needed you, now.

Crawling over your body, Genji held himself over you. His muscles flexed slightly as he lowered his head to breathe in your sweet scent. The demon’s lips curled up into a smile at this. Taking a hand to your waist, he rolled you over so that your hair spread out like a halo on the pillow beneath you. “…how cute” Genji whispered to himself. You reminded him of an angel in your slumber.. so.. soft, innocent and pure – everything he wasn’t, but damn that turned him on.

Throwing the sheets to the floor quickly, Genji’s bright eyes flickered over your body as he licked his lips hungrily. The white nightdress you wore had ridden up, the thin fabric rested slightly above your waist, exposing your thighs and cunt to the cold air. Sliding his hand up your stomach, Genji took on of your breasts in his hand, squeezing it softly as not to disturb you – he didn’t want to wake you, not quite yet.

Running his fingers down your sides, he cupped the underside of your thighs, pulling your lower half onto his lap. Bringing his lips to your skin, Genji left a trail of kisses across your skin as he palmed his growing erection through his clothing. With a low growl, he pulled his trousers to his knees, he had enough of the teasing. Pressing his lips to your cunt, Genji’s pink tongue dipped between your folds, lapping up the taste of you. Pulling away, Genji wiped the flavor of you from his lips with the back of his hand.

“fuck it” he muttered, a smirk spreading across his lips as he lifted your ankles to rest on his broad shoulders. Aligning himself, Genji placed his hands on either side of your head as he pushed his hips forward. A low groan rattled in his throat at the sensation as his thrusts got heavier, sloppier as his gaze grew hazy with lust.… He had slept with many women, but arousal had never been so high after teasing himself with watching you for so long.

S/O being cheated on by McCree, Hanzo and Genji. The boys would ignore them for a few days only to realise they loved reader. Reader is really sad and can’t even look them in the eyes but they take them back because they still love them. Please?

overmans-drabbles:

Thank you for your patience, I know your ask came in a couple of days ago. First thing, I apologize for the length. I realize some people enjoy reading straight to the point stories but I’ve realized I like to develop my stories a tad bit. I also changed a bit of the circumstances so the stories could be told more effectively, but they generally all share the same concept. Please enjoy.

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