Full commissions are open. Despite what my AO3 is full of, I do write characters other than Genji. To be absolutely frank, I do prefer Hanzo/Genji/Reaper, I have trouble writing the Junkers, and I am totally willing to write anyone in between.
Rate: $1 per 100 words
You have two options for payment. Option one: use Ko-Fi and purchase 300 words per Ko-Fi. Option two: I will provide my Paypal email in a personal message for an amount of your choosing.
I will write reader-insert comfort, fluff, and smut (including incest and a wide variety of kinks). For examples, my writing can be found on AO3 under the username Demial and here on my tumblr under the tag #my shit. Please send me a message and say hi if you’re interested! I will need the following information to get started:
the main Overwatch character
for NSFW, I will need your gender (female, neutral, DFAB, etc)
any plot details you can give me (the more specific the better or I will write what comes to me)
What I will not write:
Ships
Scat
Vore
Gore
Underage
NSFW or romance for Winston, Orisa, Bastion, or Hammond
If you’re asking for NSFW, I will assume you’re 18 or over. Please don’t ask for it if you’re not. For any questions, please send me a message. I would love to hear from you!
Side, but important note: They all wear glasses and look damn fucking good in them :3
Professor!Reinhardt
The two of you outwardly flirt with each other all semester. Professor Reinhardt constantly showers you with compliments, and is incredibly easy on you with it comes to grades.
The kind of professor who gets sidetracked during class and goes off on these elaborate stories and cracks everybody up. Teaches artsy stuff like music history, art history, and poetry.
He adored for how easy going he is, his enthusiasm, and how crazy handsome and dreamy he is.
Tutoring lessons in his office are filled to the brim with sexual tension and class or your grades never comes up.
The tension breaks and you end up kissing passionately, sucking him off, and riding him in his big leather chair.
Several other more private “tutoring” lessons are held at his house after that. Lots of homemade food (professor Reinhardt can cook), great alcohol, and the deepest more filling sex you’ve ever had.
Professor!Reaper
He’s incredibly intimidating, but a chill professor. His intimidating nature only makes students fawn after him even more. His rugged good looks are often the point of discussion during study groups.
He rarely gives tutoring lessons, he’s kind of an enigma on campus. Rarely in his office, nobody ever sees him come or go.
Most people have to email him for any pressing questions and this is how the flirting begins. He cracked a joke and you cracked one back, and the messages kept going back and forth from there.
When messages turn into sexting, you end up getting his phone number, and he asks you if you’d come with him to a bar.
Boy, do you. You go and drink with him and listen to people sing their drunk hearts out during karaoke. Make out in your dark corner booth, and slip into the bathroom to have quick wild sex.
Make a taxi cab driver very uncomfortable on your way to his place so you can do it again and again.
Professor!76
Professor 76 is the professor everyone drools over. You’ve seen students shamelessly flirt with him. Trying to either get his interest or just trying to get better grades or extensions out of him.
But it seems he only has interest for you. He has a piercing stare during lectures, made all too intense by his bright blue eyes. He always hovers over your shoulder when checking out your work.
Needless to say, you start getting off on the thought of him.
You may be a little skittish around him, even though you’re utterly smitten with him.
He has to go out of his way to speak to you, and it makes your other heart eyed peers very jealous.
You wind up in his office (because he asked you to come to see him). 76 lures you behind his nice desk, and before you know it your lips are wet and swollen from kisses, your bent over his desk and your panties are around your ankles while he’s pounding into you.
Gabriel was responsible for you, for the team’s well-being. The two of you tumbled down a trench during an unfortunate landing. His legs were undoubtedly injured–broken perhaps, and you were resting above him with rattling breaths that he could feel through his protective gear. The pain in his legs was enormous. Even so, he’ll take this over a thousand papercuts any day.
“Get off, we need to move.” Gabriel would crawl if he had to, legs be damned. This is a battlefield, not a hotel. But you did not move, probably tired from having carried him despite your own heavy injuries. He had thought it before as you both tried to escape the chaos behind you: it’s a damn miracle you were even standing let alone carrying him. Though, he should have known it was not without consequence.
“Tell me…that, that I did well.” Your words were barely more than a coarse whisper against his neck, interspersed with wheezy breaths.
“What?”
You huffed. “Tell me I did good.”
Anger flashed through him, crackling and searing his skin. “No.”
I have made the executive decision to make this into a hybrid AU one-shot. He is a German shepard.
Gabriel Reyes was going to be a tough one. He was going to require a lot of patience compassion. So you were told, but you adopted him, anyway. He needed an owner, and you needed a companion.
He came with glaring, blood-shot eyes and a muzzle with a worn, white skull decorating the front. A parting gift from the previous owner. Seems they tried to make him into a guard dog. And he relished the job a little too much.
You took him home and explained that you would take the muzzle off when he proved he wasn’t a danger to you.
The first week passed by uneventfully. Gabriel spent most of his time sleeping at your feet while you were home. He ate his food without any sign of worrying you would take it away.
You took him out with you, to the coffee shop, to grocery shopping. All your chores for the week. Gabriel was at your side the whole way. He followed really closely. People were giving you funny looks and giving you lots of space.
A few weeks later, and you figured out it was because Gabriel had been glaring at anyone who he thought came too close to you. The muzzle and black clothes you hadn’t replaced yet probably didn’t help.
He hadn’t done anything to hurt anyone just yet, but you still wanted to say something. He was conveniently still sticking to your side at all hours.
“Hey, Gabriel.”
He hummed in acknowledgement, but it sounded more like a grumble.
“I want to talk to you about how bristly you’re being towards other people.”
His full attention snapped to you. His ears stood, facing your direction.
“I have to keep you safe,” he preemptively started to argue with that gravelly voice you’d grown fond of. “You don’t under-”
“Gabriel, stop.”
His mouth shut. His tall ears flicked back momentarily.
“You’re not a guard dog.” You said it again, more firmly this time. “You’re not a guard dog.”
“But-”
“This is a nice neighbourhood. I’m not in any danger.”
Gabriel’s eyes went to the front door and back. He seemed to be taking in what you said.
Then he sat.
You let him stew in what you said and went to the kitchen. His eyes followed you as you walked. You thought you heard his tail thump on the floor. When you turned around, he was staring blankly at you.
You breathed a sigh of relief inwardly when the next week was better. People still glanced at your hybrid, but it was for his resting bitch face. You removed his muzzle then.
Gabriel was happier almost overnight. He kept the lovely, dark voice and even sassed you with it. Told you more about his past. You were starting to feel like you got that companion you wanted.
The sass evolved into flirting when you started to give back what he was dishing out. You were nose-to-nose on the sofa, giving each other shit, when he decided to do something about the tension. He was on the floor below you, like an obedient pup, so he jumped up and pressed you into the cushions.
“You starting something you can finish?”
This was the moment you both were waiting for. He had come a long way since you first took him home. All you wanted was for him to like and trust you as an owner, and you got more. But as owner, it had to be on your terms.
“That’s for me to decide,” you said.
He growled and rocked his hips against you, kindling the desire between you.
“True,” he admitted. He wasn’t the master here.
“On the floor.”
After looking like he was about to argue, he left the space between your legs and lay on the floor in front of you. You immediately felt the loss of his body heat and the presence of his large, strong body. You got off the couch to stand over his body. His tail wagged a few times at your gaze on him.
The outline of his erection was tucked upwards. You lowered yourself onto it.
“That’s more like it,” he said, resting hands on your hips.
You smacked them away. He hummed, his cock twitching against you. You rewarded his excitement by rubbing against his cock. Gabriel slack-jaw moaned, like he hadn’t been touched in years. You rocked harder.
“That feels good,” he purred. “Now why don’t we move on to the main event?”
“Shhhh, not this time.”
He kept his mouth firmly shut, muffling his gravely and deep moans and grunts. He kept his fingers dug into the carpet to keep from touching you like you commanded. The way his cock twitched rapidly against your heat just before you brought him to orgasm felt amazing.
His ears flattened as he came inside his clothes, a wet spot spreading across his stomach. You ran your hand up above the cum-stain, his chest rising and falling with his pants.
“Go bathe yourself, Puppy. Then come to bed.”
You went to bed, and your good boy joined you. You drifted off nice and warm, with the light scent of wet dog.
Per canon, we all know that Gabriel is super into Halloween and making Halloween costumes. I’m sure that his hobby extends beyond the month of October and he makes outfits in his free time. He could probably be a fashion designer if he weren’t a soldier.
He ends up making a ton of clothes for you, ranging from everyday stuff to cocktail dresses and he even tries his hand at lingerie. And oh boy does he get very good at making lingerie. He loves seeing you wear his stuff and enjoy it; he gets a huge kick out of it and gets very possessive of you when you do wear it. God forbid another man approaches you – he’d beat the shit out of them.
“You…” the figure says, his voice rounding into a snarl. “Why did it have to be you?”
I’m no one, you want to say but don’t.
You understand it may be a stupid thing to do, like challenging a wild animal, but you stare back at him. Defiance, contempt, something obvious and raw in your refusal to indulge just how terrified you really are. There’s something in the way he returns the look that, even filtered through the mask, makes you feel as if you’re descending a staircase choked by total, overwhelming darkness.
“No answer?” Reaper’s voice changes as he speaks, becoming pointlessly calm and even more dangerous because of it. Mellow, contained. “You think I’m going to hurt you?”
You’re allowed time to consider this before he impossibly sinks into the floor—a demonstration, perhaps—solidifying behind you, returning from formless smoke. You sense his head tilt forward with fascination as a shiver rips through your tense body. He breathes in. Or, it sounds like he does. A long drawn-out, ragged inhale, filling his senses with your scent.
“I won’t. I’m just,” small pause, voice darkening, “curious…”
Emptied of air, you hold still as if any sudden movements would make him spring; wind his talons around you, prove he was lying. You whisper: “How can I trust you?”
Trigger warning: talk of poor mental health, really light mention of suicide
The more you walk, the more drenched you become, the more your fingers hurt, the more you regret behaving the way you did. You should have just gone home, left through the front door like a normal human being instead of being so desperate to get away that you literally left through a window. But now you’re all turned around and walking by yourself in the middle of the night. You’d left your bag at the table when you’d gone to the bathroom, your wallet and keys in it, so you can’t pay for a taxi or get into your home anyways. You have your phone in your pocket, having silenced it at the beginning of the night so nothing would distract you from spending time with Jack and Gabe. Now you’re too ashamed of yourself to bring it out of your jeans, you can’t face them, you’re a coward and an emotional mess. You can’t even imagine yourself looking them in the eye.
“Meat and potatoes today~ It’s gonna be a good day~!” You giggled softly and shifted your bag on your shoulder, continuing to hum the silly tune under your breath.
“Aren’t you adorable.”
“You wouldn’t have it any other way.” Turning your shining eyes to the tall, dark figure beside you, you gave him your signature bright smile and linked your fingers with his.
“Damn right I wouldn’t.” Gabriel’s eyes crinkled at the corners in the way that you knew so well, and you knew that he was smiling beneath the cotton mask that hid the eroded flesh of his cheek.
“But are you sure you don’t want me to help with the groceries, sweetie? We bought a lot of stuff today.” You glanced down and fixed the numerous grocery bags with a determined look in your eye, brows furrowing the longer you stared at it.
“No, no.” Gabriel cut off your train of thought before it could leave the station, giving your hand a little squeeze. “It’s nothing your alpha can’t handle, mi alma. I don’t want the both of you,” He took this moment to glance at the swell of your belly, a tender glimmer in his crimson eyes. “to strain yourselves.”
“Aww, pleeease? Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I can’t help!” You gave him a pout and your best puppy eyes, tugging lightly on his arm.
Gabriel threw his head back and laughed, the rich sound warming you from your head to your toes and prompting a smile of your own. Pulling his hand away to wrap an arm around you, he nuzzled your cheek and let out a little huff.
“It’s alright,
cariño,” he murmured. “As your alpha and your mate, it’s my job to protect you.”
I had been writing this before, and I figured I’d finish it and have it count for two days since it’s long.
A cold, leather-clad hand shook your jaw.
“Wake up.”
You blinked slowly, coming to. The wheels inside your head were starting to turn as the gravelly voice kept talking.
“I get the job of warming you up,” Reaper said. “I volunteered for this, you know.”
Reaper’s white mask loomed over you in the dimly-lit room. Then you remembered. You and Genji had been captured by Talon on your scouting mission. There wasn’t supposed to be as many soldiers as there were, and Reaper certainly wasn’t supposed to be there.
“Wha-”
Reaper wasted no time applying his gloved palm to your throat to stop you from talking or screaming. You thrashed against the leather cuffs holding you to the exam table, but all you got was were aches at your wrists and ankles and probably some bruises for your trouble. Reaper, meanwhile, was palming one of your breasts with his large hand. The claws were too cold for comfort.
“I’m a good lover. I know what the ladies like.”
Reaper was laughing at you with these words. He palmed your other breast, keeping a hold on your throat. Your chest heaved to meet his touch as you tried to take in more air.
“See?” He chuckled.
He made a mockery of foreplay, tickling down your stomach with dancing, dull claws next. Goosebumps went up your arms at the chilling touches. You strained once more when he got closer to his goal and playfully tugged on some of your pubic hair.
He laughed again.
“I love it when they struggle,” he purred. “You’re making this fun.”
His eyes flashed red at you in glee through his mask as he loomed over you. You, his toy for the moment.
“I’m a gentleman,” he said, bringing his free hand up behind his mask. He took a claw in his teeth and tugged the glove off. You felt vomit rising in your throat at his twistedness.
His pale hand, also a kind of mockery of the honey brown it used to be, dove between your thighs.
“Maybe…you like this?”
He pinched your clit hard, and your eyes scrunched in pain. Too much.
“I’m also a good observer. Maybe this?”
Two of Reaper’s fingers rubbed at your clit, gently jostling the fleshy nub back and forth. Your cunt clenched below.
“I’m being inconsiderate, sorry.”
He switched to rubbing you with a thumb, and the two fingers dove deeper and found your cunt. Considerate as he claimed he was, he forced a single finger in dry. Then the second. You stared at the ceiling, trying to mentally check out.
Reaper didn’t like his toy not participating. He increased the weight on your throat, while increasing the stimulation to your clit. You panicked, sucking at air. Your consciousness faded somewhat, replaced by a rush. Next thing you knew, you were clenching around Reaper’s fingers. He chuckled quietly, pleased.
“Let’s do that again.”
Those words put dread in you.
Reaper choked you again and again. By now, you were making a mess around his knuckles. Your pussy welcomed him inside by loosening up. He kept saying, “You’re lucky I’m not allowed to fuck you myself,” which was confusing and a small consolation.
The repeated choking robbed you of your ability to think too hard. You forgot you needed rescue. It was just you, Reaper’s thick fingers, and his hand on your throat. Each orgasm was a nice little vacation from the soreness of being played with for far too long.
In the haze, you thought you saw Reaper jerking himself off with an arm stuttering below your view. You certainly heard his belt jingle.
After you had stopped struggling for a while, Reaper got bored. He moved on to what he was supposed to be doing. He said something about Shimada women married into the family manifesting a temporary dragon guardian to protect them while pregnant with a blood Shimada. It should have registered with you as an important detail, as you had been here to scout out where they were holding the captured Genji, but you could barely focus. You heard “dragon” and “pregnant”, that’s about it.
Reaper disappeared from sight to grab something. He held up a thick syringe, filled with white fluid. He tapped the needle with a claw. With his bare hand, he inserted a finger into you, holding you open to allow the syringe to push in without sticking into your inner walls. You didn’t know what was going on until room-temperature liquid starting filling your womb. He didn’t stop pushing the plunger until your lower stomach started to balloon outward. The constraints stopped you from touching the bulge. It pressed down on your bladder.
“There. Moira said that should be enough.”
You heard a hint of amusement in his voice.
“You probably want to pee after all that. We have to keep you healthy,” he sneered.
He freed you, pulled you off the table, and lead you to a nearby bathroom with a hand to your shoulder. In a daze, you let him. Just moved your feet. It was awful that Reaper watched you go, but you managed it. Under his gaze, you were afraid even to inspect your stomach with your fingers. It still bulged with Genji’s cum. Peeing relieved on a little of the pressure.
“C’mon,” Reaper growled when you hesitated to wipe.
It was humiliating, being led through the hallway again, naked. You couldn’t see the eyes of the cronies you passed by, but their helmets turned in your direction.
He stopped you in front of a door, and it led to a small room. It had a simple bed and a desk, like some kind of jail cell. He pulled you into the room, with you going willingly. He took a pair of handcuffs out from underneath his coat. You were cuffed to the wooden leg of the bed.
“Kinky, huh?” Reaper said, referring to the handcuffs. “I’ll come by later for more fun.”
You didn’t want more fun. You wanted a bath. And you wanted to know why the fluid–probably Genji’s semen now that you thought about it–wasn’t leaking out. You were stewing in your thoughts while Reaper left and locked the door from the outside.
You were still stewing when a voice spoke to you. It echoed gently in your mind.
You whipped around and back, searching for the voice.
Down here.
You tentatively looked down, not sure what to expect after all the bad treatment you had just endured. There perched an ethereal snake-like creature on your thighs. It had short legs and a proud head, unlike a snake. Its body had a natural curl, and you saw a pair of tiny nostrils on the end of its long snout. It glowed yellow, casting its light on your face.
You heaved a breath, and exhaled, realizing that Talon’s experiment worked. You shuddered at the thought of an army of female Talon soldiers, all with dragons. You just stared down at the creature, not sure what to say or do. It crawled closer, resting its front paws on your bulging lower stomach.
You don’t want to remain handcuffed to that bedpost, do you?
You shook your head in surprise. What?
“No.”
I am in your head. You don’t need to speak out loud. This is why I know your current predicament.
Your face twisted into utter confusion. The spirit dragon had to explain that its kind was born ready to defend their mistresses, or else not many would survive, before you would stop staring at it dumbly.
It is logical, it insisted.
It dove into your body, disappearing.
“What the fuh-”
Hush and listen.
You sat still, waiting.
Pull on the handcuffs.
You frowned.
Just listen to me.
You tugged gently, expecting nothing. However, the wood creaked. Spurred on, you tugged again, and the wood splintered.
With your handcuffs freed from the bed, you had a new issue: the handcuffs themselves.
You stared at the chain between them. /Should I…?/
Try it, the dragon said.
You wrapped your fingers around the chain and started to pull. You pulled as hard as you could, not expecting much but metal to cut into your fingers. Instead, the chain snapped, and you fell backwards onto the floor.
Now that you see the strength you possess, you must not hesitate, or it could mean your life.
You still had doubts, but the dragon was making sense now. It helped you force open the door. There were no guards outside. Strange that they didn’t think you were worth it. They had made a mistake.
You wandered out into the hallway, planning to find Genji and see if you could use your newfound strength to rescue both of you. It felt like a fool’s hope, but crazier things had happened to you today.
You stared down the hallway. Where do we go?
That is up to you. But I do sense one of my brethren back the way you came.
You did not like the idea of returning to the part of the base where Reaper did what he did to you. But it made sense that other medical rooms would be grouped together, and that Genji would be in one of them.
A patrol did come by. Normally, you would have no chance against them. With the dragon helping you, you overpowered them with the element of surprise alone. You knocked them to the floor, and they struggled to get up.
Hit them harder, the dragon told you when you hesitated.
The guards didn’t get up after that. The incapacitated guards let you wander the halls with less fear.
You used your training to avoid more pairs of guards. That much you could do. The dragon remained silent. You really thought you would get lost and needed some help. A map or something. Pretty soon, though, you came to some hallways that, unfortunately, looked familiar.
A game of hot and cold with your dragon sensing Genji’s dragon, and you found the door that let to where Genji was being held. You forced the door open like before, and there he lay, on an exam table. The proud, slick ninja out cold like a coma patient.
Genji was unconscious, probably so he wouldn’t make any noise. No gag was in his mouth. A tube connected to a hidden slot in the side the of his abdomen. You recognized it from some of the worse-off agents in the med-wing before. It supplied all the nutrients and water needed if your face was so banged up, that even a feeding tube was inadvisable. Except this time, they were using it to minimize excretions from Genji’s body. Lower down, there was a mechanical dildo thrusting in and out of his ass, most likely stimulating his prostate.
Wow, Moira, you thought to yourself.
That made the fleshlight milking his cock look almost humane in comparison. Another tube led out of that, serving as both a catheter and also a collector for sperm.
You grabbed handfuls of your hair, not sure where to start first. You needed to get Genji out of this situation. You could find the release for the metal constraints easy enough. You’d used those before. But as for the medical stuff…you were less experienced.
Thankfully for you, Moira was arrogant and, therefore, careless. You found the program controlling the other contraptions still open and waiting for input on a nearby panel. You accidentally woke Genji up first.
“Don’t panic, don’t panic!” you told him.
He was calmer than you expected. He whined quietly instead of yelling, but still writhed from the outright pain and soreness in various parts of his body.
“Wait! I’ll figure this out…” you said, turning your attention back to the console.
The program would only stop the devices from moving, and you had to pull them fully from Genji’s body yourself.
“Okay, here we go…”
You removed the tube from his abdomen no problem. Then you went to the mechanical toy in his ass. Genji’s hands flew up to cover his bare face.
“Just…do it,” he said, voice shaking.
You pulled on it steadily, not as slowly as you would have liked. You didn’t have that much time. The pained noise he made was difficult to hear, but the fleshlight needed to be done next.
You grimaced at the red, mottled flesh under it, clearly having been worked beyond Genji’s comfort. The length itself contracted, evidently Genji was a grower. He hissed as it did so. It was quite painful. He rolled over awkwardly to put his feet down and promptly clattered to the floor, his body making an awful racket.
“Oh, no,” you said to yourself quietly. He couldn’t walk.
Hey, hey. I need your help with this. Think we can lift this guy together? you thought at the dragon.
The boys celebrate their missions well done, or even their mission that was far less than easy by disappearing into a special part of Blackwatch base, drinking, and fucking you senseless. They don’t even bother talking to you. Just treat you like a set of holes they can fuck their dicks into. And if they do talk to you it’s just so they can tell you how much of a fucking slut you are, a bitch made for taking cum. They’ll use you to tears and then use you some more because the only thing that matters is their satisfaction.
demialwrites 