Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Overwatch (Video Game) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Genji Shimada/Reader, Genji Shimada & Reader, Genji Shimada/You Characters: Genji Shimada, Angela “Mercy” Ziegler, Ana Amari, Lena “Tracer” Oxton, Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Hanzo Shimada, Sojiro Shimada, Moira O’Deorain Additional Tags: Female Reader, Alternate Universe – Historical, World War I, Slow Burn, Telegrams, Nurses, Nurse!Reader, Blood and Injury Summary:
1917. You are a young nurse that takes care of the soldiers from the Triple Entente that are stationed in safe areas during World War I. You see soldiers come and go by as they recover or die, but destiny as it is, ties you to a soldier from The Imperial Japanese Army after finding he snuck inside the hospital in the middle of the night. (There are some historical unconformities, but I’m trying my best)
It’s not too vague!! I decided to narrow it down myself to HCs for Blackwatch Genji. There are also theseposts
Sometimes, Genji doesn’t like you touching his cybernetic parts, because it’s a reminder of what he is now
He’ll jerk away from your hand in annoyance
Sometimes, he likes that you explore his body because you think he’s cool and it strokes his ego
His red eyes follow you closely
Other times, he clings to you like his life depends on it, because he needs comfort now
“Genji, I can hardly breathe!” you say, laughing
Genji growls with that tinny quality to his voice, refusing to let go. It’s cute
There are times when ignoring him makes him appear next to you, silently begging for attention
You weren’t actually ignoring him, he just hadn’t been in physical contact with you for a while and it’s a little distressing for him
Hold his hand for a bit and then he’s good again for the next while
This all happens in secret
It’s bad enough that people stare when he’s walking around alone
Genji doesn’t want anyone looking at him while he’s being open and vulnerable with you
It makes him feel helpless and exposed
Genji prefers to hold you with his human arm if he’s not holding you with both arms
He assumes you’d be uncomfortable with his other arm, and frankly, he didn’t ask if it’s true
Genji is the kind of stressed and tired that if you gave him loving and gentle touches just right and for long enough, that he’d fall asleep on, or next to, you
The first time Genji takes his mouth guard off around you, he wants you to make a bit of a fuss over how good-looking you find him
But not too much of a fuss
Kiss his cheeks a bunch, and he’ll cry tears of joy, because he’d forgotten what it’s like to be touched there
a/n: sure here you go. did some good ol cyborg genji, because that’s what i’m in the mood for writing rn. under the cut since the answers are kind of nsfw-ish.
I had been thinking about this for a while and I wanted to put a twist on whumptober where I purposefully reverse the prompt to make it fluffy instead of angsty. Since October is very, very busy for me, I had no confidence that I could do it. But then dickbutt brought this up and I decided to do this. So, if you see dickbutt posting angst, you can be sure that I’ll have fluff not far behind.
A screech and clatter rings out in the kitchen. Then followed by another. And another. And another. And another.
Then a loud groan and a loud ‘clack’ with a sharp screech following right after.
You hold your fork in your fist, carefully positioning it above your target, and then you strike.
Clack. Scree–
The cherry tomato rolls safely away from the prongs, right through a puddle of olive oil, showing off the slippery sheen and essentuating the cherry red of its skin.
You grash your teeth. You’re a grown adult picking a fight with a cherry tomato. It’s only by sheer pride of not wanting to be outdone by a tiny, inaminate hunk of fruit–or is tomato a vegetable–that prevents you from just picking up your plate and sliding everything into your mouth–Genji is sitting next to you, after all.
While he makes no comment about your one-sided fight, you know he’s watching, judging. You’ll show him.
Once more, you poise your fork, ready to stab the living crap out of this when it gets snatched off your plate.
“Here.”
Genji picks up the damnable tomato with his chopsticks, betraying the effort you’ve been putting in for the past few minutes, other hand held under the treat to keep it from escaping. You stare at the tomato. Teamwork really does make the dream work. If you think about it, you could imagine the tomato pleading for it’s life, begging for forgiveness.
If you grin a little evilly, Genji says nothing.
“Thanks!”
You immediately close your mouth around it and the chopsticks, biting the tomato with a little more viciousness, savoring the burst of juices and flavor.
Sweet, sweet victory.
Though, from the corner of your eyes, you could see Genji smiling softly, looking a little happier, as though also relishing in your victory.
For some reasons, the burst of sweetness upon your tongue is nothing compared to the sweet, warm feeling that gushes from your heart. You don’t post der on what that feeling is when Genji picks up another tomato, just as easily as the previous one, and offers it to you.
With summer fading, Hanamura sinks into autumn and though it is late in the evening, the streets are alive for Tsukimi. Genji walks with you, one sweatered arm around your shoulder. “You should see this place in the spring,” he says, almost wistful, as you marvel at the way the season has touched everything.
Music dissolves into the distant sounds of the crowd as you begin to wander, following his lead, pulled towards Shimada Castle’s gates, stopping when they’re within reach. He lets his gaze crawl over the carved dragons before taking a deep inhale as if to speak but there’s nothing needs to be said. You sense apprehension to say too little or too much, his attention turns inward, trance-like.
Finally: “I need a minute, if that’s okay.”
These moon-viewings used to be a family event.
The night is young and clear. Branches quake, leaves rustle like feathers. Wind carries the scent of fire, chestnuts, taro, persimmons, incense. You kissed Genji earlier, tasted the sweetness of dango on him. These things linger.
“Can you feel this?” Looking over your shoulder, you admire his profile; distinct curve of the bridge of his nose, skin washed in pale gold. He laughs a little to himself so you clarify, I mean, can you feel the light of the moon?
“Yes, I can.” He pauses, the explanation slips away as he searches for it. You are patient as he summons the words. “There is so much here… in the sky, in the air.” Reminders of life. Of Death. Reminders of things he knows intimately—things he wants to forget, but can’t.
It was hard coming home.
You move closer to his side, he is privately thankful for how you lean into him. There is a sad smile etched into the corners of his eyes that you can identify with the smallest of glances. He knows you see it.
Genji clasps one of your hands, guides it to his chest, over his heart. His voice is low and soft, despite the heavy pounding. “What about this? Can you feel how much it means to me that you’re here tonight?”
hhhhhh uhhh i’m Really Behind in life so. Let’s hope I can catch up.
Warnings: Oh there’s Quite a Lot of Blood Related Stuff. And I
guess some memory related fuckery/derealization if that’s a thing that might
trigger you.
Genji comes back to awareness in pieces, then in a sudden, jarring
lurch – his dragon frantic inside of him, the chaos of battle around
him, his blade heavy, caught.
In the span of minutes – in seconds –
Genji’s world becomes a nightmare.
You adopted the two cat hybrids as brothers. The staff at the shelter hesitated at that but agreed with you when you made the decision.
Genji took an instant liking to your home, excited to be adopted. The only issue he had was trying to climb everything to find all the good hiding spots and perches. He also required regular trips to the prosthetics professionals who specialized in cybernetics. He was a special needs boy.
His brother, Hanzo, preferred to lounge in your lap and watch Genji warily. He wasted no time asking to be groomed, or he groomed himself when you weren’t around. He was polite when he asked for grooming tools, but it was clear he was also going to require a fair amount of time and attention.
A week later, another issue cropped up. You saw why the shelter staff hesitated.
Hanzo was grooming himself, as usual, and putting his hair into a man bun. It had to be just so. Sleek. No stray hairs sticking out. Genji attempted to help by using his rough tongue, perfecting for slicking down hair, to help groom his brother. Hanzo pushed him away and hissed. Genji brushed it off and came to headbutt you as a request for laptime. He was heavy, with all his metal parts, but you let him settle there, nonetheless.
Genji kept trying to groom Hanzo. To cuddle him. To even just lay near his brother and purr. Hanzo got up and left to another room in the house each time.
You were wracking your brain, trying to figure out a solution for this, for these two hybrids you didn’t know very well. Then their behaviour changed.
They hid more often. You thought, well cats just hide, so perhaps they’ll come out. Then they didn’t sleep with you on the bed. Normally, they slept on either side of you. Occasionally elsewhere; it was really up to them. Their absence had begun to worry you when you a yowl woke you in the middle of the night.
You got up immediately to check on your kitties, to make sure it wasn’t them. Sadly, you found Genji curled up in a ray of moonlight, trembling. You knelt down next to him.
“Hey, Baby?” you asked gently, touching his side to get him to roll over and show you his belly. If his body was causing him pain, you wanted to know.
He curled tighter, whimpering. A low growl sounded from elsewhere in the room.
“Hanzo?” you asked, lifting your head to look around.
He didn’t answer, so you turned your attention back to Genji. After some coaxing, he uncurled to reveal what he’d been protecting.
He had, in his fist, his fully erect cock. His stroked it tentatively, his visor turned away from you, refusing to meet your eyes.
Ahh.
You closed your hand around his cool, cybernetic fingers, urging him to stroke harder. His grabbed your wrist.
“You don’t have to,” he said.
You took your hand away for now.
You found Hanzo elsewhere, also hunched over a large tent in his pants, his needy cock beneath. He seethed, stubbornly refusing to touch it.
You tried to talk him down.
“Hey. Hanzo. You’re in a rut.”
He nodded. Okay, you were getting somewhere.
“You need to take care of it, don’t you?”
He shook his head furiously, shut his eyes, and pressed his face into the carpet. You sat down on the floor some distance between them, trying to figure out again what you were supposed to do. They were refusing your help, and you hoped it wasn’t because they thought you were going to take them back to the shelter just for getting their ruts at the same time. You had a pair of prideful boys on your hands.
A loud sob shook Hanzo’s body. His tail flailed unhappily behind him.
“Okay, here’s what I’m going to do,” you announced to them. “I’m going back to bed. I’m going to be naked and willing. If you want help taking care of your problem, come join me.”
You only had to wait a few minutes before your boys showed up to climb into bed.
They started out rutting against each thigh, sorely needing that first orgasm to clear their minds and get some relief. They started round two by fussing over who got to enter you first.
“Behave,” you warned. “or you both can get out.”
You were stuffed with, and covered in, their cum before the night was over. You left them in the bed the next morning, the two of them snuggled up to sleep in.
You sat on top of Genji, your thighs hugging his waist. Your favourite place to be. This time you were playing with blindfolds. His wrists, of course, were tied to the bedposts with silk scarves. It was his promise that he wouldn’t pull them free that kept him tied down. It wasn’t much of a stretch to add a scarf around his eyes, as well.
Genji was the most obedient man. You leaned forward to ghost your lips along his cheeks. They flushed, but he didn’t move. Didn’t crane his neck to return the affection.
“Are you fine?”
“Mmm. I’m hard.”
You chuckled. “Already?”
You pecked his cheeks, his soft scars under your lips. His own lips twitched.
You pressed your mouth to his, proper. His hummed against you. Then he protested quietly when you pulled away.
“Nuh-uh, no complaining.”
“Sorry, Master,” he murmured.
“It’s okay. I know you’re a whiny boy when we do this.”
You ignored his huff with a smile and crawled backwards down his body. His hearing sensors were perked, listening for the bed creaking, the rustling of the sheets against your hands and knees. He wished he could feel your heat pass over his half-hard erection. Wanted to buck into you.
His dick was a loose curve, begging to be brought to full-stiffness. A little on the short side and thick. You made your home between his knees. Your fingers traced the maroon synthetic muscles on his inner thighs. His substantial, strong thighs, that made your mouth water. His legs twitched beneath your touch. So sensitive.
Your fingers finished their journey and ended up wrapped around his length. It filled out a little more in your hands. This was usually the time you would give him head, but you hesitated.
Only, he couldn’t see and wondered why.
“Master? I thought you were going to-”
You interrupted him with a light smack to his thigh.
“Sorry, Master.”
Seems losing his sight has made him impatient. You hesitated again to see if he’d learned his lesson this time. He was a smart boy; he should have.
Genji breathed deep breaths through his mouth but said nothing.
You licked the dark pink head of his cock. Genji made a sound between a moan and a whine, then bit his lip, worried that he had been a bad boy.
No noises made from pleasure are bad.
You dove down, shoving as much as of his length into your mouth as you could. Genji cried out with his voice going up in pitch, suddenly assaulted with a surge of pleasure. You continued that assault with your mouth, sucking on his poor, sensitive flesh, and bobbing up and down his cock.
His mouth formed a loose ‘o’, his lungs pumping out moans. His legs tensed, curling around your body on the mattress. His moans grew louder and louder.
You pulled off his cock before he got too far. He pressed his lips together to cut off his whine. You moved onto his lap. It was time to test how long he could last inside you.
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