Desperate/needy kisses with Genji or 76 (you pick)? In a “I almost lost you and didn’t realise how much I loved you” sort of way? Or “fuck it I kept telling myself I didn’t deserve you and you deserved better but I want to be selfish” way? Bonus points for smut?


It’s late, a pearly moon drifts aimless in the ocean of night sky, flickering stars streak through the inky blackness like stones tossed across the water. With each unseen ripple, Genji Shimada tries to foresee the future he’ll bring upon you, slumbering in the hammock blown by the wind. Staying with you is everything he’s ever wanted and something he thought never he would deserve after years as a reckless, heartless, often thoughtless youth. But staying, in this moment, with you – it won’t last, will it? The Shimada clan has lost both heirs, scrambling for a foothold in the world without the talons of the dragons so have flown so far out of reach. It will not be long, Genji thinks, until they figure out his identity. The world never knew his name, the moniker of “green cyborg ninja dude” circulated on the internet and Genji was content with the harmless nickname. But after the battle at Hanamura, surely they saw the dragons clash again, and soon, they will come looking for him.

“Babe? Are you still up?” You should be sleeping; how is it he woke you? “Genji?”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you aren’t.” You slip out of the hammock and onto clumsy feet, shuffling along the floor until bumping into Genji’s body draped along the window sill.
The cyborg sighs, watching you clear the sand from your eyes. Always so perceptive, he’s almost ashamed of hiding his fears from you but it isn’t as if they aren’t unfounded; the Shimada still have resources from some of the most unsavoury places, and he doesn’t want you involved. You’re a civilian, he will only ever endanger your life, not enrich it.

“Talk to me,” you plead into his chest plate. “You’re scaring me.”

“In the morning.” He groans, overwhelmed by your presence. “I promise.”

“You think I’m going to fall asleep knowing you’ve got storm clouds brewing over your head? Fat chance, ninja. Spill it.”

Maybe he should’ve left sooner, cut ties before the red string of fate wound itself so perfectly around the pair of you like a knot of Hercules. It felt more like noose now, the hangman standing by until the last possible moment where escape became impossible. And you? You wouldn’t run.

“Genji, please.”

The movement is too fast, too precise. The helm and mask are gone his lips find yours, breaking through the anxiety of the future like raging waters destroying a dam. He’s being selfish, he knows it, but fuck it all. He’s done believing he doesn’t deserve you and how you could do better. The kiss is passionate and raw, crushing as he slips off the sill and pins you against the wall, hands sliding along your thighs, unknotting the cord that keeps the robe closed.

“In the morning,” he promises. “For now, let me do this, please.”

The floor is cold but Genji keeps you warm, his face between your legs. Hot fingers probe your sides, kneading desperately into your hips when you grind against him.

It isn’t perfect. It will never be perfect. You will both be hunted but a dragon will never be caged.


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