#overwatch reader insert

[jailbird-junkrat-writes]

Overwatch Handholding Headcanons Part 2

Part 2 of 4

Ana

It’s been years since she did something as simple as holding someones hand. Her hands are deceptively soft despite her age. Warm to the touch, firm when she takes your hand. She can sense your hesitation and is more than happy to take your hand in hers first. Firm, commanding but in a comforting way.

Cassidy

Oh, he’s a smooth son of a bitch. He takes your hand gently, bringing it to his face to kiss the back of it. You feel the tickle of his beard and the shadow of a cocky smirk on his lips as he does so. He intertwined your fingers with his and winks. His hand is rough, but his lips soft. You melt at the contact paired with his southern drawl.

Moira

She takes you by the wrist, firm and commanding as her eyes meet yours, reading your reaction as sharp nails skim along your skin. You shudder at the sensation, a smirk on her face as she continues to run them over your palm, claiming your hand, long slender fingers winding with yours as she tugs you towards her. One hand is smooth, and the other has such a defined texture of her scaring decay. You don’t shy away from either.

Mauga

The man is charming and confident as he offers you his hand with an eyebrow raised, wind blowing his hair as he gives you a sly grin. He waggles an eyebrow when you place your hand in his and he pulls you against him. Believe it or not he’s big into hand-holding, likes to see the size difference between you both, loves to see how you fluster at the look on his face. Booming laugh as he leads you by the hand. Probably into trouble.

Zenyatta

He likes to hold hands. He uses it as a form of affection towards his brothers, his friends, those close to him as well as the person he loves. A simple holding of the hand when talking or greeting. How he holds someone's hand and his relation to the person varies. With you he likes to hold your hand. He liked to rub his thumb over yours when connected. He gently runs his fingers over your knuckles, committing everything about the moment and how your hand feels to memory.

[matchaxberries]

hihii idk when you’ll get around to this, but could you write something about Moira from Overwatch comforting a very upset reader?? not really upset about a specific thing, but the reader is distraught

thanks ^^

Táim Anseo Dhuit

Moira O'Deorain x GN!Reader

Warnings: Maybe OOC Moira? Short, no actual warnings tbh

Being with Moira was, far from easy. Her personality was difficult, and often Angela would come to you asking you to please reason with her for a multitude of reasons. You sit on your two's shared bed, as she works away in her office the room over. You hated how others spoke of Moira, even in front of your face knowing you two had started something official recently. Sometimes the whispers get to you, you can’t help it. You read through the Overwatch agencies group chat, and spot Moira's name from Angela. You read over the not kind words shared between her and others. Tears begin to well up in your eyes, and you lock your phone. A sniff escapes from yourself, and you bring your sleeve up to your eyes attempting to wipe away the tears that threaten to spill.

Moira works away in her medical office, reading and flipping through a clipboard of papers with a small sigh. Her eyes narrow as she sits the clipboard down, pinching the bridge of her nose. She decides to take a small break, and leaves her office dropping her white coat onto the floor behind her. She shuts her lab door, and makes her way into her bedroom where you sit on the bed. As soon as she walks in she can sense there's something wrong. "(Y/n), is something the matter?" She smoothly questions, bed dipping in where she sits by yourself. You look at her with slightly teary eyes, shaking your head no, even though that's obviously not true. She gives a small hum, leaning closer to yourself taking your face into her own hand at the chin, tilting your head up at her; as she sits a bit taller than you on the bed. "A ghrá, if you do not wish to tell me what troubles you that is fine, though do not lie to myself." She places a small kiss onto your lips, eyes staying narrowed with an unreadable expression as she pulls away.

You sniff a bit, leaning your face into Moira's hand that rests at the side of your face, against your cheek. You stare into her bi-colored eyes, and she stares back, not breaking the gaze. She uses her thumb to wipe away tears from your eye, as they slow down to a stop. She gives you a small, half smile, though it looks more like a smirk on herself. “Whenever anything is wrong, (y/n), you may only ask for my help, yes?” Her hand leaves your face, and comes to your hand, she intertwines her slender fingers with yours, and uses her other hand to pet your hair softly, smoothing it out. As her hand sinks into your hair, your worries fade away, the words you read from others leave your mind, and Moira continues her petting at your hair, running her fingers through it, combing it back. You give her a smile, “better now?” She questions yourself.

You nod to her, and squeeze her hand that is interlocked to yours, playing a bit with her fingers. She lightly pulls you forward, herself falling back into the plush mattress you two had been sitting upon, pulling you onto herself to coddle you kindly. It feels uncharacteristic, though you know how her sharp edges soften for you. You lay, head against her chest as she keeps a hand in your hair, her other hand rests at the small of your back. You blink slowly for a moment, then close your eyes shut, beginning to let yourself drift off in Moira’s arms.

© matchaxberries

[You do not have permission to repost, edit, or claim my work as your own/share it on any other platform. Only reblogs are okay.]

Character count: 3,150

A/N: This was so much shorter than I intended, and I know you said reader has no reason for being upset but my brain had an idea and I ran with it 😖 I hope you enjoy! (Also the title means “I am here for you” it’s actually one of her voice lines from the game!)

Masterlist

Request Rules

[pinkusmaximus]

Junker Queen x reader requests are open >:) both sfw & nsfw - good at writing fluff ‘n smut and open to writing so very many, many things, but I reserve the right to say no to any request <3 send them to my ask box!

[clairlycreature]

where my hanzo lovers at

[peaxhxhair]

Raising Kids with them - Overwatch Heroes

Featuring: Cassidy, Mercy, Moira, Roadhog, Junker Queen Warnings: Moira. A/n: this isn't exactly the official setting for each character - but this is fanfiction so we're gonna ignore it lol Navigation Overwatch - MASTERLIST Consider becoming a member! <3

Odessa Stone (Junker Queen)

She wouldn't be into having kids at first - thinking that something so small would make her weak.

It does - but she refuses to admit it.

You both decided adoption was probably the best option - adopting a sweet baby girl.

I think Dez would be all about teaching her kids to fight.

Even before they've learnt to walk.

"C'mon kiddo! I was fighting at your age!"

Sometimes you would find her playing with your baby - making it look as if they were both boxing.

It was quite a funny sight.

You'll come home from work and find them watching wrestling or something.

Probably swears around your kid.

Your babies first word is probably 'cunt' or 'fuck'

You're usually the one to take your daughter to school, but on the off chance Dez does - the rest of the parents are scared of her.

The kids adore her though.

She'll struggle doing stuff like diaper changes at first - as anyone would

~~~

As your daughter gets older - she grows into a mini version of Dez.

She wont call her 'mom' - instead calling her something silly like 'cunt' or 'fuckwit'

Dez gets a real kick out of it - and does the same.

Dez would be a little disappointed if your kid didn't want to fight, though she'd still be supportive - even if she didn't really understand.

Cries on your daughters wedding day - but tries to hide it.

"I'm not crying cunt, you're crying"

Mako Rutledge (Roadhog)

I think Mako would be really good with kids-

Big brooding dad & cute tiny daughter combo type vibe

Maybe she's really talkative, and he just listens.

He'd let her put clips in his hair and paint his nails.

It's giving Gru when his girls are doing ballet.

He's always the one to hold the kids when needed - since he barely has any issue.

His hands are just so big.

Even if you had like - 4 kids he would have no trouble carrying them all.

You were grateful that you could have some time alone sometimes, as Mako is a very competent father.

'crane's hand back while driving when kid opens snack' dad

Your kid might pretend to wear his shoes - and they can barely even stand properly in them, let alone walk.

Moira O'Deorain 

Does not want kids.

Only agreed because you would make a face at her whenever you saw a baby.

test-tube baby fr

Literally will not go to another doctor about her kids health.

Does she know anything about kids? No.

Does she think she knows more than the QUALIFIED children's doctors? Absolutely she does.

MIGHT agree to taking your kid to see Angela - if you're not too keen on her doing science on your kid.

HATES being called mom.

She's fine with your kid just calling her by her name.

This was weird on the first day of school - most parents thinking your kids other parent wasn't in the picture.

She was fine with that idea - meaning that you 'left' your old partner for her. Narcissist.

~~~

Your babies first word was definitely her name.

but in the cute baby way.

'Moiwa'

When your kid gets a little older, maybe they'll ask about Moira's arm.

"This is what happens when you smoke"

Your kid will never even THINK about smoking ever again.

It isn't until they're 30 that they realise that wasn't true.

Prefers to keep her kids away from science - as much as it was important to her.

She'll barely talk to you about it either - which may be hard if you're also a part of Talon.

Having to bring your kids to work with you is definitely SOMETHING.

You'd prefer for them to be with you rather than with Moira, though.

Your kids are NOSY, so you have to bend the truth a little bit.

Just to make sure they don't view their mom as the ruthless geneticist that she ACTUALLY is.

"Why is miss Amelie blue?"

"She didn't eat her vegetables"

Angela Ziegler (Mercy)

BIG on consistent check-ups.

Sometimes she'll do them herself, but she prefers the professionals.

She doesn't specialise in child care, but she does make sure that your child is going to the best doctor in the field.

Definitely enjoys shopping for baby clothes.

Works with baby on lap - letting the little guy play with her fingers.

Aeroplane noises while getting the baby to eat.

does NOT let the kid eat candy until they're like 10.

This was hard for you - because it meant you couldn't have candy in the house.

Secret stash of sweets hidden somewhere in your car.

One in Overwatch HQ too.

ALWAYS prepared.

Baby needs a snack? She's got cut up grapes in her bag.

Always has wipes and diapers.

"Hey babe? Where's their bottle?" She's already retrieved it from the drying rack.

Tiny first-aid kid in her bag at ALL times.

~~~

If your kid wants their ears pierced at Claire's. ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Angela is panicked at any idea of infections - especially when it comes to your kid.

Your kiddo is made to wear clip on earrings until they qualify to be pierced by a professional.

Will always make sure places are baby safe before you take your kid there.

~~~

She's calm 90% of the time - she just cares about general safety and health.

Matching onesies with your kid.

Chilli and Bingo core :)

Angela would LOVE doing Halloween costumes for your kiddo.

They're always so CUTE.

If she has the time, she'll put together matching family ones.

Cole Cassidy

Baby carrier dad.

Like he'll just carry your baby everywhere.

Gets upset when he has to put the little guy down.

"We're just fine over here. No need to pull us apart"

Your child definitely prefers him to you - which you're fine with.

It's just so cute seeing them play together.

I'd say he's a girl dad - the type to teach her how to shoot, or play football with.

9 times out of ten, he'll fall asleep while reading her a bedtime story, so he always just ends up sleeping in your daughters bed with her.

The two of them cuddled up on the tiny mattress - he's holding your little girl so protectively.

~~~

The moms at the nursery you take your daughter to all think Cole is hot.

Too right.

They just need to learn to keep their hands to themselves.

Your kid is very protective of him - and your relationship.

If you're married, she'll be like;

"Daddy, show her your wedding ring!! Isn't it nice?"

It makes Cole chuckle every time.

Cole didn't even need to shut the women down - your kid was doing all the work for him.

~~~

Definitely the dad that all of your kids friends like

"Your dad is so cool!"

He's always invited to their little tea parties and stuff.

Yes, he will put on the crown and princess dress.

[useeer]

me after one inconvenience

[teacakeezz]

Uhm eheh sooo anyways….

[kiwi-on-ice]

Welcome to Tumblr!!

Would it be possible to request some Reinhardt x fem (nb) Reader where reader accidentally gives a drunken confession that they've had 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 thoughts about him??

Reinhardt x fem!reader

Summary: Always being drawn to the older and chivalrous crusader, a celebratory party after a successful overwatch mission causes secrets to be spilled, and pleasures to be experienced.

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+ smut, reader dresses fem and has a pussy but no she/her pronouns used, reader is a combat medic for overwatch, age gap, size kink, fingering, creampie (no threat of pregnancy).

Notes: Hope you enjoy sweetheart! Kinda went all in on the size kink and age gap so sorry about that lmao.

Something about your commanding officer, Reinhardt Wilhelm, had always captured the attention of your mind and body.

Whether it was his hulking frame that could make anyone feel small, his thundering voice that could be heard across the battlefield, or the sweet and chivalrous personality that lay beneath the rugged exterior; something about him was a pull for you, a magnet that you couldn't help but be drawn to. He may be older than you, more reckless, more of a fighter...but it didn't matter.

You remember as clear as day the first time you had been assigned to be trained under him, a new recruit wanting to make a difference in the world. Since Dr Zielger was responsible for taking you under her wing for the medic side of your job, lieutenant Reinhardt was to ensure you could handle yourself in a fight. And in walks the most intimidating man you've ever seen, 7'4" of muscle, wielding a hammer practically the size of you and then some. But when a bellowing chuckle erupted from his mouth, the sense of intrigue uncurled it's way from your stomach. From then on, intrigued was an understatement. Your eyes followed him everywhere. The movements of his arms on the field, or in the practice range when he'd wear a tank top that extenuated every part of his body as he trained. But then he started to help you, carefully moving your arms to show you good positioning and blocking, the feel of his fingers and how they practically consumed your hips or arm with their sheer size.

Reinhardt was special, and oh so gentlemanly. Even when he'd walked in on you changing, shielding his eyes and saying 'I didn't see anything!" as he backed out. Most men you know would have tried to catch a glimpse, but not him. He was special. And god did you crave him so badly. Craved the experience of showing him just how depraved your thoughts for him were. But you knew deep down it was a bad idea.

Not only was he your lieutenant, but he was much older than you. You knew he would never pursue you, too honorable. He deserved a woman of his own age, and you'd seen the way Captain Amari would glance at him when she thought nobody was watching. These fantasies should stay just that. Fantasies. Nothing more.

So after a particularly successful mission carried out, you wanted nothing more than to drown the sorrows of your unrequited lust in the complimentary champagne being offered at the closing party. Still, you'd dressed for the occasion, your dress flattering your figure nicely as you practically clung to the walls, glass tight in your grip. The garment isn't overly revealing, but certainly gave people a taste of how ravishing your body truly is. You can't help but glance around, noticing the way fellow agents laugh and discuss plans. When your eyes find Reinhardt, discussing something with Captain Amari in a hushed whisper, you down the champagne in one and search for another.

After more than a few glasses, the familiar blanket of haze runs over your brain as you walk rather disorderly to the bar stool. Settling yourself, you tap your fingers against the dark wood as you let your mind drift.

"Ah, enjoying the free booze i see."

That familiar voice always sent a shiver up your spine, but with the effects of the alcohol you feel yourself practically jolt into an upright position as the object of your daydreams settles on to the stool next to you.

"I myself am enjoying the revelry, quite a nice break from crushing omnics skulls open." he exclaims with a grin, as you barely fight the blush rising to your cheeks.

"Yeah, you look great tonight."

Oh my god did you just say that? Without too much thought of your blurted out compliment, he laughs heartily and shakes his head.

"Ah this old thing? Only comes out for times like this." he says, brushing some fibres from his suit lapel. The way the fabric clings to his body has your thighs pressing together urgently. "But I assure you liebchen that you look radiant as ever."

His sweetness just serves to fluster you more, as you bathe in his tone and words, despite how friendly they seem to be. You smile, the alcohol messing with your inhibitions as you gently poke his arm.

"Seriously, how do your muscles fit in here?" You feel the stretched fabric of his suit jacket.

"Oh, well i-i did get this tailored." he admits, a little sheepish as his eyes are firmly on where you placed your hand. When you squeeze, he has to force himself not to react.

"It's so impressive, you're so big Reinhardt..." you mumble, and god the innuendo makes him feel like such a dirty old man for the way his breath catches.

"You flatter me." he says, a little quickly. "My muscles protect those closest to me, as well as the world. I suppose that means they are..."

"Big." you finish his sentence for him, squeezing your bicep again. The rational part of your brain is screaming at you to stop, to realise what you're doing. But you can't seem to care. You're touching him, feeling him.

"Dear I..." he trails off, not quite being used to being in this position. With how hard it's been since the omnic crisis started, he's rarely had time to enjoy the company of someone, much less someone of your age.

"I meant it..." you blurt out again, your mouth seemingly having a mind of its own... "That you look great tonight. You look great all the time though..."

"How much have you had to drink? Perhaps it might be time to go and get some rest."

"No...want to be here with you. Always want to be here with you."

Looking away, Reinhardt truly is lost for words; an occurrence that doesn't happen often. The feeling of your touch, your words, they create a symphony of lust and desire to swirl in his chest, the attention of such a pretty young thing as intoxicating as the whiskey in his glass. But he knows he can't...he shouldn't...

"You're just so...hot. Especially after you train, I um..."

Seemingly your brain kicks back into its senses as you stop yourself. Oh my god, you just called him hot. Before you can run and hide from your embarrassment, he turns to you.

"You, what?"

You shake your head quickly, trying to save yourself whatever shame you still had left. But he presses.

"No, I'd like you to finish that sentence. After I train, what do you do?" he asks, knowing he's playing with fire here. You know there's no real way of getting out of this, so you drink the last bit of liquid from your glass to pluck up the courage.

"I go back to my room and i fantasise about you."

This knocks the air out of Reinhardt's lungs. He holds onto the whiskey glass so tight, cracks form.

"Scheiße" he mutters under his breath, before looking you dead in the eyes. "You want me? Is that what you're saying?"

You can't help but nod, embarrassment and rules be dammed. His breathing becoming laboured only helps further embolden you, as you run a hand down his front slowly. "I want you...more than anything."

He finds himself shivering under your touch, before he catches your wrist. "We can't."

You let out a petulant whine at his dissmissal, leaning further into him. "Why not?"

"Look at you maus, you're practically half my age. It isn't right...it isn't the way it should be. You need a nice boy your age to look after you."

"You'd look after me." you interject. "I know you would...you're such a gentleman."

"Gentlemen don't want to fuck the pretty recruit they train." he says rather gruffly, shaking his head. "Besides, you're drunk. I'll take you to your room."

He left no room for argument as he pulls you along, taking you up to your room. Taking this as a hint, you rub at his arm again before you get to the door.

"Goodnight...please think this over. It isn't a good idea." he says, the words sounding strained in his throat as he opens the door for you.

The next morning, the sunlight streams through your blinds like tiny daggers as your head feels like it's splitting. You really shouldn't have drank so much, blinking softly as you sit up in your bed.

Oh no. The memories of last night hit you like a train, the way you came on to him...the way you felt him up. Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god, you're screwed. Scrambling to get in the shower and get presentable, you pace around the room to think about what you should do. Ignore it? Pretend you didn't do anything?

You can already feel the awkwardness that that would bring, so with reluctance you find yourself walking towards your lieutenant's door and knocking on it softly. Opening the door, you swear you almost feel yourself gasp as he stands there in a t-shirt that clings to his body like you're desperate to.

"Oh, good morning!" he says cheerily, which makes the pit in your stomach get deeper. The word vomit seemingly spits out before you can hope to restrain it.

"Reinhardt I am so sorry for my inappropriate behaviour last night, I don't know what came over me I had too much to drink i-"

A hand on your shoulder interrupts your train of thought. "Dear, why don't you come inside a moment."

That statement clearly takes you off guard, as he guides you inside and closes the door behind you. Shyly, you take a seat on the small sofa and glance at the minimal decor idly as he walks over. The seating clearly wasn't meant for someone his size, as your thigh is pressed against his own as he takes a seat next to you.

"You don't need to apologise...about the way you feel." he starts, and now your stomach is fluttering for a different reason. "And I'm not trying to be cruel, it's just....not right. You deserve-"

"Don't" you interject, "Don't say I deserve someone better, or my age..."

He sighs, low and heavy as his hand balls into a fist in his lap. "Liebling, I am trying to be a gentleman here."

You swallow, realising his need for you. It's addictive, knowing that his breath is heavy and his muscles are tight because he feels like he needs you. Needs you just like you need him. So you gently place your hand on his arm, squeezing.

"I know, and I want you to be a gentleman. I want you to take care of me Reinhardt." you whisper, words sweet like honey to his ears as he feels the heat in his crotch.

His sharp breath fuels you, as your hand traces over to his broad chest, the warmth radiating in waves. With a smile, you angle yourself fully towards him, feeling up and down his chest as you gaze up at him. Catching your wrist just like last night, your gasp sends tingles down his back as he pushes towards you.

"oh gott, I thought you wouldn't..." he starts, before seemingly his self control snaps and he pulls you into a kiss. It's deep and passionate and oh so perfect, everything you wanted from him as his hands practically dwarf your waist. Yours go up to his shoulders, grasping on for dear life as he lifts you and places you on his lap. Feeling the slight scratch of his beard against your face as his tongue gently traces your lip has your mind reeling, and your hips buck on instinct. This is met by a slight groan from the older man as he grips your waist tighter to keep you still.

"Not so fast, let me enjoy you." he mutters as he gently starts to kiss down your jaw to your neck. He worships your skin with kisses like you're holy, like bathing in your essence would grant him salvation. His teeth gently scrape your pulse point as his hands start to move smoothly up and down your waist and hips, memorising your every curve.

Fingers slip under your shirt, tracing your torso before tugging your shirt up and over your head. He lets out a groan at the sight, his eyes looking over your exposed body as his scarred hands run over everywhere he can. Not putting on a bra or undershirt this morning, your chest was now exposed to his gaze. He gently pinches at your nipples, chuckling at you gasp before fondling as a gentle apology.

"Look at you...don't know why you're interested in an old man like me." he laughs in a self deprecating way as he moves you so you're straddling his thigh. Getting the hint, you begin to grind over the muscle, your thin shorts doing nothing to dampen the delicious friction.

"You're so handsome." you seek to reassure him, causing his cheeks to warm as he chuckles again.

"You flatter me." he mumbles, kissing over your shoulders and collarbones as you grind over him, feeling your pussy dampen your flimsy shorts.

He tenses and relaxes his thigh, making you gasp and your hips stutter in pleasure. Huffing out a laugh at how eager you seem to be, he runs his hands back to your hips and controls your pace. You feel so small in his grip, chest to chest against the older crusader as you use his leg to get off.

"So lovely and pretty," he praises you, before snapping the waistband of your shorts, "Shall we take these off?"

"Only if you take this off too." you say, pulling at his shirt. As he pulls it over his head, you can't suppress the noise that escapes your throat as you greedily run your hands over his chest without any pesky material in the way. His muscles look strong and capable, cutting a stunningly strong shape. His scars, of which there are many, perfectly frame him as a warrior, a protector. It all causes you to grind harder against his thigh, your fingers tracing a particularly bug scar on his stomach.

He lifts you up with ease, gesturing for you to shimmy out of your shorts which you do...which is when he realises you didn't put any underwear on underneath. He groans, deep and guttural as you're now fully exposed to him.

"Oh look at you...how has no man already snapped you up liebchen?" he asks rhetorically, as he gently places you fully on his lap, his fingers dancing on your inner thigh. You whimper and go to take his shorts off too, but he tuts and stops you. "I am...a big man. I don't want to hurt you."

At your pout he chuckles and continues, "Please, let me open you up for me."

His finger brushes, against your core and you forget what you were even pouting about as the pleasure settles deep inside you. He teases your clit with his finger, rubbing firm circles to get you even more drenched than you already are. Your hips move a little before he grips one side with his free hand, keeping you nice and still for him as he touches you.

"So beautiful, I'm going to ease it in now, okay?" he asks, and with your nod he sinks his finger inside you. God, if this is the size of his finger, you don't know how you're going to take the real thing as he fills you up with just one digit. He pumps it slowly, getting you used to the stretch as noises fly out your mouth.

"Gripping my finger so tight, such a small maus i've got." he teases with a smile, rubbing your hip soothingly as he works you open. He gently eases another finger inside, stopping momentarily at your slightly pained noise. He coos at you, telling you how good you're doing for him as he slowly but surely gets two big fingers inside of you. He keeps a slow rhythm, curling them to brush against that spot inside you. It's clear that he's an experienced man, given his age and looks that hardly comes as a surprise to you, as he prioritises your comfort and pleasure as he fingers you gently.

After a while though, you get a little restless, trying to fuck yourself on his digits which causes his eyebrows to raise and a stuttering breath to release from him.

"Oh that's it, ride them. Show me what you want." he encourages, as you keep your hands firmly exploring his chest as your hips rock against his fingers, slightly lifting your hips and lowering them to get the most pressure on your g spot. With your moans, he start to moan too, so hard in his shorts it hurts. He can't remember the last time he's been this turned on, this desperate for someones touch as you writhe and squirm on his lap.

"Please, I'm ready." You tell him, eyes pleading with him before he nods, removing his fingers. He quickly places you at his side as he tugs his shorts and briefs down, and you feel your breath escape in a choked manner. He's huge...biggest you'e ever seen, let alone taken inside you. He smiles reassuringly as he places you back on his lap, his cock pressing against your stomach.

"Don't worry mein herz, we will take it as slow as you need."

You nod at his words, breathing deeply as you lift yourself up and position him underneath you. The head brushes against your aching clit and you whimper, rubbing it around your pussy a few times as Reinhardt gasps quietly. With it wet enough with your juices, you slowly sink down on him, getting about a third of the way down before moaning out. The stretch burned, but in a delicious way that had your head spinning and your hands grabbing his broad shoulders tightly. A deep groan escapes the older man as he keeps a firm hold on your hips, not moving you yet.

"So tight...So feucht." he grunts, it's taking all the willpower in the world not to just thrust up and bury himself deep inside your intoxicating cunt.

At his reactions, you sink down slowly, nearly taking all of him before moving up and slowly moving back down again. This slow rhythm has you both moaning, broken and desperate as the months of unspoken sexual tension comes to fruition. He guides your movements slowly, being able to support your weight as you move on him.

Nails gripping into the skin of his shoulder, your cunt feels impossibly full as you keep moving on him. You aren't sure how any other man is going to satisfy you now you've had a taste of the crusader, his cock reaching places you didn't even think possible. Your movements get a little faster as you ride him, still fairly slow but the more even pace has him groaning.

"You're doing so well, so good...so jung und süß" he breathes out, his voice deeper as his eyes close for a moment. However he realises he's no longer able to see your gorgeous body taking him so well, so he opens them to the sight of your chest rippling with every bounce. One hand reaches up to massage your nipple, callous fingers creating a beautiful friction as your back subconsciously arches into his touch.

You cry out at the sensations, your thighs shaking as you ride him faster now, addicted to the feeling of his cock filling you up completely and utterly. Nearly reaching the base now, Reinhardt can't resist bucking up, completely filling your pussy and causing another choked cry to escape you as the older man is completely inside you. He takes this as a positive, and holds you in place as he begins to thrust up in a steady pace. Knocking against your g spot with every thrust, it's like your breath is knocked out of you with every movement; all you can hope to do is hold on for dear life as you let him do as he pleases.

But you'd asked for this, you'd asked him to take care of him, your words rattling around in his mind as he grunts and fucks you with a passion he hasn't felt in years. He will, he'll take care of you, he'll give you what you need.

"Oh...oh it's so good." he moans, never one to be quiet in any situation, letting you know how good your pussy feels enveloped around him.

You nod eagerly, crescent marks being left on his shoulder as your nails really dig in. Not being able to move your body on him, you just moan and cry out as he pushes his cock up and up inside you. However he seemingly tires of this position, moving you underneath him gently so you're on your back with your pretty eyes on him. He holds your thighs apart before thrusting once more, moving a pillow beneath your hips to ensure he's hitting your g spot.

"Du bist schön, my pretty thing." he gasps out, his thumb reaching down to rub at your clit. Immediately your walls tighten around him, making him moan and double his efforts.

You're pretty sure you're in heaven, his thrusts deep and powerful but passionate, making you feel all of him. The added pressure on your clit causes the pleasure to build and build rapidly, scrambling to hold his arms.

"Reinhardt i'm close." you warn him, before he grunts.

"Oh please come for me, make a mess of me." he practically begs, his voice strained. "ich brauche dich"

It only takes another few deep thrusts before you're cumming on his cock, your back arched and your moans whiny and breathy. The older man's rhythm falters at your stunning display, cock throbbing as he feels dangerously close to bursting right at that moment. But ever the gentleman, he asks where you want him to finish.

"Inside...I-I take the birth control shot that Doctor Ziegler offers...I want to feel you inside of me please." you beg him hazily, barely conscious as you still feel so full yet so sensitive.

This causes Reinhardt to moan loudly, thrusting a little harder as he reaches his peak, reverting back to his mother tongue as he grunts out. "Ich komme...Ich komme gleich...oh gott..."

With a final push, he buries himself deep inside your cunt and cums, filling you up so completely you feel your eyes roll back. Both of your heavy breaths fill the air, coming down from the intensity of the experience before he pulls out slowly. His release seeps out of you, and he groans at the sight of it, of the idea of you being his in that way. Gently he wipes away some, before he moves off you with a slight grunt, his joints a little sore.

"Stay there, i'll clean you up." he promises, and he keeps it as he grabs his towel and cleans you up, before heaving you into his arms and taking you to his bed. You feel completely enveloped by his strong arms as you cuddle against him, fingers gently tracing warm skin. You know this moment of bliss won't last forever, that you'll have to face the difficult conversations of what this means for you both moving forward, but you try not to think about it too much. Instead you're content with closing your eyes and letting your breathing sync as you relax together.

[fakesaint]

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 🐇 ／ ⋆ ۪ imagine genji getting jealous because he catches other men checking you out.

genji hated the way other men looked at you.

it wasn’t your fault—he knew that. you could just be standing there, minding your own, and still they’d find something to stare at. the curve of your smile, the way your eyes lit up when you laughed, the softness in your voice when you spoke.

it disgusted him.

not because of you—never because of you—but because they didn’t deserve to see you like that.

they didn’t deserve to want you.

he should’ve been the only one.

you were his.

his to love, to protect, to hold late at night when the world got too loud. and yet, some guy with a cheap smile and wandering eyes had the audacity to look at you like you were free for the taking.

he felt it then. that sharp pang in his chest. jealousy, ugly and hot and too real. it curled low in his stomach, twisted around his ribs.

he stayed quiet, for the most part. but his hand found yours, fingers lacing a little tighter than usual.

and when you looked up at him, brows raised like what’s up?, he just gave you this small smile. soft, but a little tense.

“nothing,” he said. “just... don’t like the way they’re looking at you.”

you laughed, brushing it off like it was nothing, but he meant it.

they didn’t get to look at you like that.

only he did.

[ya-zz]

Hi, I was wonder if you can make a fic for hazard cervix fucking fem!reader? (I’m borrowing this idea from queenofcups)

!! NSFW under the cut!!

His hands were locked onto your hips, fingers and thumbs digging into your skin, bruising the tissue underneath, but despite your whines and your whimpers, he would not let go.

With every thrust, he slams you back down against his hips, his cock hitting almost too deep inside of you. You could feel the bruising already forming as you gripped the bed sheets, unable to hold onto the tank fucking you.

Findlay lifts your hips and slams into you once more, watching the way your face contorts in pleasure as he hits your cervix with the head of his cock. The pain and pleasure mingling into one as he keeps going.

"Fin- P-Please.." You can barely manage to get the sentence out before the tank comes down and presses his lips against yours. Hungry and wanting. His tongue flicks against yours, teeth then sinking into your bottom lip as he continues his assault on your cunt.

One hand finally lets go of your hip, the relief flooding through before another roll of pleasure rocks your body. His fingers press and rub gentle circles over your already sensitive clit as you moan into his mouth. Tilting your head away for air, you gasp and writhe underneath him.

"Look at ya." He coos softly, though his movements are anything of the sort.

He pulls his hips back slowly, watching as you catch your breath before he snaps his hips back once, then twice, enjoying the way you scream for him.

He removes his other hand and snakes it under your back, pulling you flush against his chest. You're hot, slick with sweat. Hands scramble to hold onto his shoulders, nails scratching against his back as your second orgasm snaps. Your teeth sink into his neck which causes the tank to growl as he slowly pulls his hand from your sensitive bundle of nerves before chasing his own high.

He presses you into the mattress, his cock continuously hitting your cervix until his thrusts start to become sloppy. With one final thrust, he buries himself inside of you as thick ropes of cum paint your insides. His head nuzzles into the crook of your neck as he sucks another hickey into your skin.

Panting and sweating, he peels himself from you but there's that glint in his eyes as he pulls his hips back and pushing back inside of you, slowly starting a gentle rhythm.

He's not quite done yet.

—

KOFI

[nastymensimp]

Staring straight at the man you sighed disappointedly and shook your head," I appreciate the thought but you literally cannot do that."

He gasped as if offended, like you doubted the level of skills he possesses. " I think I very much can. What's stopping me?"

" Babe we've been over this, You cannot fight my period"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Arataki Itto, Junkrat, Okuyasu, Narancia, Literally all of Dethklok, America, Prussia, Sun, FT Freddy

[jailbird-junkrat-writes]

Overwatch Handholding Headcanons Part 3

Part 3 of 4

Ashe You have to be the one to take her hand first. She might jerk her hand away, confused about what you want but then she softens, letting you take her hand. She watches the simple action with brows furrowed until she feels how nice your hand in hers is. How it feels right and she holds on tight. As if scared you might vanish if she lets go.

Baptiste  He enjoys holding hands. It’s simple but says more than words. He smiles and always offers his hand to you to take. He waits until you slip your hand into his before he closes his. His hands are rough and strong. Comforting and warm. He’s always last to let go, letting fingers gently slip from his touch, fingers linked for a second before you part.

Genji The ex-playboy never did handholding before, far too intimate of a gesture for those he was just seeing for a good time and now, with the way he is, the new him both body and soul. He’s self-conscious and hesitant both in his strength and in how cold his hand would feel to the touch. You need to be the one to take his hand in yours, let him know you want this, that the cold metal of his fingers mingled with your warm ones is perfect.

Junkrat He has no concept of how to act in a relationship, to show his love or his affection and when you go to hold his hand he jerks away and wrinkles his nose at you, holding his hand against his chest thinking you were trying to take something from him. You have to explain why you want to hold his hand and he seems dubious of your intentions, thinks you are going to trick him until you grab his hand and hold it, letting him know there is no trick. He decides he rather likes how your hand feels in his.

Sigma He loves the simple intimacy and connection of holding someone he cares about's hand. Be it romanic or platonic. He will happily chatter with you or at you as he takes both of your hands in his. Cupping his large hands over yours with a big smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkle with fondness as he holds your hand close to his chest. Wanting that simple human connection. It’s near impossible to hold his hand when he’s floating, maybe he gets one of those ‘can’t reach tall places’ grabbers for you to still hold his hand.

[aspenmissing]

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ - REQUESTS CLOSED

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ - ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏʀ:

ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ (ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪɴꜱᴇʀᴛ)

ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ (ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪɴꜱᴇʀᴛ)

ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ꜱɪɴꜱ (ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪɴꜱᴇʀᴛ)

ᴠᴏʟᴛʀᴏɴ (ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪɴꜱᴇʀᴛ)

ᴊᴏᴊᴏ'ꜱ ʙɪᴢᴀʀʀᴇ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ (ᴏᴄ ɪɴꜱᴇʀᴛ)

ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ (ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪɴꜱᴇʀᴛ)

ᴛᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴏʟꜰ (ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪɴꜱᴇʀᴛ)

ᴅʀᴀᴍᴀᴛɪᴄᴀʟ ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ (ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪɴꜱᴇʀᴛ)

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ - ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪɴ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ 6 ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ (ᴍᴀɪɴ/ᴡᴏʀᴛʜ ᴄᴏʟᴏᴜʀꜱ) ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇꜱ. ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇ-ᴜꜱᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏᴜʀꜱ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ, ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴜꜱɪɴɢ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ. ꜱᴏ, ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏᴜʀꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ (ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇxᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀɴꜰɪᴄ, ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴡ). ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴏʟᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ (ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜱᴏ ᴅɪᴀʟᴏɢᴜᴇ ɪꜱ ᴇᴀꜱɪᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴᴅ/ʀᴇᴀᴅ) ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ 5 ᴏʀ ʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏᴜʀꜱ.

ᴏɴᴇ-ꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ - ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏʀ:

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

ᴀʀᴄᴀɴᴇ || ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ || ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ || ᴄʀɪᴍɪɴᴀʟ ᴍɪɴᴅꜱ || ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ || ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜʀᴏɴᴇꜱ || ʟᴀᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ || ʜᴀɴɴɪʙᴀʟ || ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ || ᴄꜱɪ || ɴᴄɪꜱ || ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ ᴡʜᴏ || ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏꜱ || ɢʀɪᴍᴍ || ɢᴏᴛʜᴀᴍ || ᴘᴇᴀᴋʏ ʙʟɪɴᴅᴇʀꜱ || ᴀᴍᴇʀɪᴄᴀɴ ʜᴏʀʀᴏʀ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ || ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴏᴍᴇɴꜱ || ʀᴇᴅ ᴅᴡᴀʀꜰ || ꜱɴᴏᴡᴘɪᴇʀᴄᴇʀ

=

ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇꜱ

ᴍᴀʀᴠᴇʟ || ꜱᴛᴀʀ ᴡᴀʀꜱ || ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʙʙɪᴛ/ʟᴏʀᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪɴɢꜱ || ꜱᴀᴡ || ꜱᴄʀᴇᴀᴍ || ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏꜱᴛ ʙᴏʏꜱ || ᴘɪʀᴀᴛᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀɪʙʙᴇᴀɴ

=

ᴋᴏʀᴇᴀɴ/ᴊᴀᴘᴀɴᴇꜱᴇ ᴅʀᴀᴍᴀꜱ

ᴀʟɪᴄᴇ ɪɴ ʙᴏʀᴅᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅꜱ || ꜱQᴜɪᴅ ɢᴀᴍᴇ || ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ʜᴏᴍᴇ

=

ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ

ᴊᴏᴊᴏ'ꜱ ʙɪᴢᴀʀʀᴇ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇ || ᴏɴᴇ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ (+ ʟɪᴠᴇ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ) || ᴍʏ ʜᴇʀᴏ ᴀᴄᴀᴅᴇᴍɪᴀ || ᴅʀᴀᴍᴀᴛɪᴄᴀʟ ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ

=

ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ

ᴏᴠᴇʀᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ || ʀᴇꜱɪᴅᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴠɪʟ || ʙᴀʟᴅᴜʀ'ꜱ ɢᴀᴛᴇ 3 || ᴅᴇᴛʀᴏɪᴛ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ || ᴡᴀʀᴢᴏɴᴇ/ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴡᴀʀꜰᴀʀᴇ

=

2 ᴏʀ ʟᴇꜱꜱ ꜰᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ

ʜᴇʟʟʙᴏʏ (ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇꜱ), ᴇᴅ ᴡᴀʀʀᴇɴ (ᴘᴀᴛʀɪᴄᴋ ᴡɪʟꜱᴏɴ), ꜰʀᴀɴᴋ ɴ' ꜰᴜʀᴛᴇʀ, ᴛᴀɴɢᴇʀɪɴᴇ, ʜᴀʏᴍɪᴛᴄʜ ᴀʙᴇʀɴᴀᴛʜʏ, ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ꜱɴᴏᴡ (ʏᴏᴜɴɢ), ᴍɪᴋᴇ ꜱᴄʜᴍɪᴅᴛ (ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ), ᴡɪʟʟɪᴀᴍ ᴀꜰᴛᴏɴ (ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ), ᴊᴏᴇʟ ᴍɪʟʟᴇʀ (ᴘᴇᴅʀᴏ ᴘᴀꜱᴄᴀʟ), ꜱʜᴇʀʟᴏᴄᴋ, ᴍᴏʀɪᴀʀᴛʏ, ʟᴜᴄɪꜰᴇʀ, ᴠɪɴᴄᴇɴᴛ ᴄᴏᴏᴘᴇʀ (ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴛ ʜɪʟʟ - ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ), ᴊᴀᴍᴇꜱ ꜱᴜᴛʜᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ (ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴛ ʜɪʟʟ - ɢᴀᴍᴇ), ᴄᴏᴏᴘᴇʀ ʜᴏᴡᴀʀᴅ 'ᴛʜᴇ ɢʜᴏᴜʟ'

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ: CLOSED

Requests can be as fluffy/comforting as you wish, or as angsty/depressing as you wish. I will also happily write headcanons (Like my Arcane headcanon series) - just give me a rough idea of what you'd like the overall theme to be!

However, please do not request anything smut related (I know I have a smut, but I rather not write another one). I also DO NOT write anything NONCON IN DETAIL (Implied or mentioned is allowed).

I also like to write in fandoms where things are possible, for example a reader with abilities or of a different species, is possible in the fandoms like Arcane, Supernatural etc. However, it is impossible in fandoms like The Walking Dead and Criminal Minds. So requesters, please stick to what is possible.

Reminder: Hello all! I am really sorry but I only write for the fandom I have provided in my Masterlist ONESHOTS (Arcane, Overwatch, Resident Evil, Marvel etc). Any requests that are any other, won't be done - I will however keep them, for whenever I decide to begin doing that fandom, but until then I will not be writing it.

[piinkgore]

Broken porcelain

pairing: Ramattra x f!reader  prompt: sexual tension when tending to someone's wound from this list warnings: semi-nsfw, mentions of blood, injuries, semi-nudity, swearing, reader being a bit masochist etc etc word count: 2272 a/n: backstreet's back, alright! and finally. 😎 I’ve been a bitch with a big B for Ramattra over the past couple months, and of course I had to write a piece on that robot guy. He gives me… feels I can’t explain. So, for all my fellow robot fuckers, hope you enjoy reading this as much as I’ve enjoyed writing! Feedback is always appreciated and please please please send an ask, a chat, anything so we can talk about this big guy and more fanfiction prompts. 😭 also on ao3!

Who would ever say to be a human amongst killing machines would, impressively, be a dreadly task? Or deadly, you would remark to yourself after a long walk of dragging your wounded body through the corridors from the training field to Ramattra’s personal workshop. At least, those new assassin omnics would perform their duties impeccably, you could tell from the way they cut through your skin without a single issue.

The wound was still covered under the thin layer of the tank top you have on, the white fabric damp of crimson blood denouncing something went terribly wrong, not to mention the pained expression contorting your face. 

As soon as he eyes your state, if Ramattra could bring a worried expression to the surface of his faceplate, he would, a mirror to the torment running through his systems. He was an engineer, not a human healer, but you needed him to act more as such in the present moment if you’re both willing for you to stay alive, which you indeed were. 

Growing impatient, not to mention the pain reaching under your skin, you adjust yourself slowly on top of his workbench, holding your side to prevent any further damage. Your fingers get moist with blood, and that has your lips twitching. “Can you fix me or not?” 

“That depends on your meaning of fixing,” he states, a stoic demeanor on the outside despite feeling quite the opposite inside. Feeling. Something he didn’t think to be inclined to, at least not when those diverged from the violence he was shaped to perform as a being… and yet, here they are, as foreign to him as the surgical aspects of flesh and bone. “I can’t weld you, obviously. At least, not as a first resource,” his slight humor brings a faint smirk to your lips, slowly shaking your head in a quiet response. In a lighter tone, Ramattra proceeds, and now it’s definitely a command. “I would like to have a closer look.”

Quietness follows, not as fast as the warmth spreading from your neck to the tip of your ears. To say you hadn’t considered you’d need to remove your shirt was unnecessary, in front of him of all people, ‘cause you’d rather overcome your own fear of blood if a second thought had you aware of the chances before. But as the old saying remarked: if you are in hell already, just go and sit on the goddamn devil’s lap.

Proceeding a thick swallow, you do as you’re told, diverting your eyes to a corner to avoid examining the cut yourself, or to avert them from Ramattra’s, anything and everything were an excuse in such a situation. It hurt just enough to be something you knew you couldn't handle alone, and considering how sharp that assassin’s knives were… fuck’s sake, what a weak fool you were.

On the other hand, at the sight of your almost bare torso, Ramattra felt inexplicably tense. The wound itself was not too deep to reach anything vital, but would need a patch up indeed in order to heal properly. Yet, his sight wasn’t restrained to that minor part of your skin, and that’s when tension was found. Maybe the vocabulary wasn’t a perfect fit, ‘cause that jolt of electricity running through his circuits was something else, something as sublime as the curve of your hips, and the way you shallow breaths of anticipation had your body quivering, despite an enormous strength to keep it still. He could hardly find beauty in human beings, and let’s not even mention himself, but that was a whole different scenario… warm, with a hint of degradation he couldn’t ignore, and something that could only be named as akin to desire. 

The silence was killing you now, almost making you forget the very pain which brought you there in the first place. “Will we be helding any funerals?” you risk, in the same light humor he used with you before. At least, if you didn’t consider the shaking tone in each syllable you’d pronounced. You thought Ramattra couldn’t  never understand your concerns fully, even if he invested all his force to: if the worst happened, he could be reconstructed, you were there for it after all. But as a human, it’s not like you have a respawn chance anytime. That’s why, aside the anxiety turning your stomach into a knot, you needed him to act. 

“You speak as if it's more severe than it is in fact,” he muses, tilting his head as the scanners on his optics do the rest of the work, searching for the right proceeding in a shared data file, where he was hoping to get anything from an omnic model whose initial propose, contrasting his, was to heal, not to kill. “No funerals, you have my word. The pain may be harsh, but the wound itself is of little harm in the bigger picture. You’re safe,” the addition of the last sentence has you sighing in relief, and a pinch of pain reaches you once more, but it’s bearable. Ramattra made you feel protected, or better, cared for. The warm feeling is enough to soothe your anxiety, dissipating the chill air in the workshop for a little while before rushing up to your cheeks as you’re reminded you’re still half naked in front of him. 

“Lay,” he commands, and your breath gets caught in your throat in the act. Only if your mouth were open, your heart would surely jump out if it during one of its chaotic heartbeats, contrasting the steady tone on Ramattra’s voicebox, echoing those words without a single trace of malice. But when they hit you, they sounded profane, leaving a delicate trace of forbidden to the tip of your tongue. 

You curse your mind as you lay down, a shiver erupting from the contact of warm skin to the cold metal of his workbench’s surface. Fuck, he’s your commander, superior office or whatever goes between you both, your boss to be short. Thing is he saw a purpose for you and spared your life long ago, and that purpose goddamn sure didn’t imply any… deeper contact than the occasional intellectual help you provided, with efficient (and smaller) hands and a cunning mind. After all, no Ravager was made to indulge in such a thing as intimacy, the very same thought cursing through Ramattra’s systems right now. He wasn’t built for delicacy, a single gentle touch for his standards would be brutal enough to leave you bruised for days, and how he would lament to see such perfect skin ruined by his own hands… unbearable to even think of it without feeling a strange sensation housing between his metallic limbs, pushing further inside in search of a bloody beating heart among the cold hardware. 

It wasn’t the first time he felt unsure in his existence, but that was a whole new thing. To think one like him was able to possess a spirit tender enough to be mesmerized by such a fragile thing as you touched him not physically, but deeper than it could ever be… how thrilling it was, but insufficient to make him search for its source on his internal data to completely erase it. No, never. He was actually holding into it with every fiber of his soul, curious to see which path it would lead him through. A bit embarrassing, at first impression, like the sight of you would burn his optics until they melt.

After all these years working along, was it there all the time? Within him, within you? He would search for it later, revisiting each time you shared each other's company in his memory, to see where a quiet admiration turned into this. 

After gathering the resources to fix you, ensuring everything was sterilized, he turned to sight over your form once more. Ramattra could sense the rapid heartbeat against your chest controlling your breath motions, the rising and falling of your chest following along, where he caught a peek of your nipples drawing a small circle under the fabric of your top, the last barrier between him and your fully exposed torso. Thankfully, unlike any human, his faceplate didn't betray any of his thoughts. They’re guarded within his systems, safe in his memory and imprinted there forever. Nothing could ever make him forget of you, nor time, nor enemies, nor… fuck, the injury. 

“It would feel better if you were asleep,” he commences, carefully. You’re already scared for it seems, and it’s not on his wishes to make it worse. “Instead, I will ask you to bite on this,” the discarded cloth of your tank top is brought to your lips, and your heart could have stopped right there. Instead, avoiding the disbelief, you silently obey. “Try not to move. I shall be slow.”

A nod follows, and you gather your best to not whine, or flinch, or sob too much when his hands begin to work, stitching the wound close. Whatever sounds leaving your mouth are muffled, and the pain is great. But erotic. And, fuck, you should be loosing your mind by this point. How could your brain process such agony in a pleasurable way? You’d be blaming the omnic in charge of patching you up, for sure. It was him, after all, all about him. 

Ramattra was enormous, and the effort he put in each precise movement didn’t go unnoticed. He could have discarded you, blamed you for your mistakes, assigned anyone else to deal with this bullshit, but there he was: the infamous Null Sector leader, treating you as a precious porcelain tea-cup, once broken, now being patched in threads of gold, despite the gold being metaphorical. It was a form of art, wasn’t it? You’ve read of it somewhere, once. If so, right now, you’re his masterpiece.

To say he’s being delicate is a statement. Ramattra is afraid he could shatter you again, worse than they did with you before. The responsible for it would be severely corrected, later of course. The pads on his fingertips could never be soft as your skin feels under them, and an eagerness to venture further brings a shiver of electricity through his spine. Should he ever be thinking of it in your state? In fact, was it reasonable to have you consuming his memory like this, injured or not? What could be a groan echoes from his voicebox, and within a few long minutes, it was done. 

Your jaw clenches to the minimum effort of raising your torso, sitting on his workbench once more as a small discomfort to the newly sewn cut emerges. Covered in bandages, you can’t see his work, but there’s no blood and the pain is moderate, so you trust with your eyes closed it’s perfectly fine. Your shirt is sitting by your side, bloodied and wet from your own saliva, but you don’t mention reaching for it. 

Blinking, your eyes search for him, meeting the stoic faceplate turned to you. Silence lingers as you both stare at each other, considering every single thought that coursed through your minds during the late couple of hours. Was it genuine? Absolutely. Would you voice them? No, surely not. Tension is still there, so palpable you could touch it, and shattering it would come with a price. 

A small blush color your cheeks red, and you finally manage to break eye contact with a hint of timidity. Too much to ask of you for a little time of strong, contrasting emotions, still tickling under your skin as the adrenaline begins to sparse. Clearing your throat, you’re the first to speak. “I apologize,” it begins as simple as it, almost ending the sentence there as your eyes don’t dare to move from your lap and you choose carefully what to say, and what to keep to yourself. Ramattra may have performed a solid progress towards emotions, but you feared he would fail to comprehend the turmoil in yours. “It wasn’t strict of your concern, nor a matter you should care for as you did, and I-”

“I had to,” he cut you off, sternly. Now that you’re safe, his worries tend to other subjects, still resonating over you. Was he too obvious, despite his best efforts? Couldn’t be, and yet he wished fervently for you to point it out, verbalizing what he was too afraid to: he wanted to keep you close, and safe, more than he ever did. “Whatever happens to you is my business, especially if it's a menace to your well being,” Ramattra takes a step closer, his fingers aching to reach for your face, and soothe that sorry expression out of it. Instead, he keeps them to his sides, clenching them a fist. “So don’t apologize for it. It wasn’t your fault, in the first place, and yet I’ll ask you to be careful and not wander over the training field whenever a new IA is being tested.”

A short nod follows a faint smile. His words were gentle, not explicitly voicing what he meant in between the lines, but you knew it nonetheless. Ramattra cared for you, more than you could have thought, and enough to satisfy your heart. “I don’t even know how to begin thanking you.”

“Dressing will do,” a chuckle reverberated in his metallic rib cage, and if his words alone wouldn’t catch you yet, it would be enough to make your face red as a cherry for, somehow, you were able to sense a trace of malice in Ramattra. “Rest now, human. I shall meet you when the day is done.”

[fandomzwriterk]

Bi han x female reader x Kuai liang

Summary: Bi han and Kuai liang are both with liu Kang gathering champions and reader is one of them. When liu Kang first knocked on the reader's door and answered that is when they could not stop looking at you. The reason why liu Kang chose the reader is because they are skilled in various types of martial arts, know how to make a lot of poisons,skilled in weapons,and are very smart. They both fall for the reader,but the reader is oblivious to this and is not interested in relationships anyway,all she wants is to get stronger and make new friends.

- If you know the part in the game where Johnny cage meets them. This is what I want the request to be based on.

Thanks if you can do this 😄

A/N: “this is no prank” 🤣🤣🤣 Anyways this is kinda how my bf and I first met/acted in a zoom class so yeah…🤣🤣🤣 also this might be my favorite part aside from Tomas’ entrance in the game cause damnnnn he fineee😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 Reader is a little based off Kiriko from Overwatch!! (I play her so I know her design/lore)

Kitsune of… Love?!

That night…

It had been a long night… and it couldn’t possibly get any worse, at least that’s what you had been hoping for. Your night was just perfectly annoying… because of one fanboy asshole and another one who was chasing around said fanboy. The one who had been holding your blade named Sento was face first into the marble flooring, his mouth shut with makeshift gags. He certainly wouldn’t shut up as soon as you beat his ass. So, you tied his arms behind his back and left him face first on the ground. The other had been more fortunate, only getting knocked out and tied to one of your dining room chairs. You didn’t dare ask the one who wouldn’t shut up and certainly couldn’t ask the knocked out guy. Surely it couldn’t get worse right?

Wrong

There was knocking on the door, so you sighed before picking up three kunai’s off the floor and holding them between your knuckles on your dominant hand. The other, empty in case someone dared to jump through the door as soon as you opened it. You opened it slightly having one eye peeking out into the street to see who it was. A man with long black hair and glowing white eyes greeted you, a smile as his two companions stared at you in curiosity.

“Y/n! It’s very good to see you. May I come inside?” He asked as his one hand moved to its right and in an ‘opening’ manner

Your guardians, may their souls be blessed wherever they were since they moved after you left home, raised you with manners and how to behave to guests, because “heaven forbid you decided to be a wild woman in your adulthood”. At least that’s how it was phrased as you were a little girl. You opened the door, much to your inner voice’s displeasure, and stared at the three men walking in. The one with white eyes stared at the man on the ground and then to the one strapped into the chair. A few of your weapons scattered about the living room stuck in the walls and dug into lots of your furniture. One of the men, wearing a blue gi and forming ice at his fingertips, stared at you as you walked around the room plucking out kunai’s, darts, and throwing knives from the walls.

“What in the name of the Elder Gods happened here?”

“Relax Bi Han. She’s not a threat.”

“Lord Liu Kang… who is she?”

You ignored their conversation, putting a hand on the chair and dragging it over to these new three men. It was heavy, looking to your side as you saw the one with bright white eyes look over the man passed out on the floor at his feet.

“My. You took down Johnny Cage… I’m impressed.”

You looked behind you, locking eyes with the other two men who stood behind you a few feet away, seeming to be ready to attack at any moment.

“The idiot wasn’t smart enough to do more research.”

“That’s Johnny for you.”

The one with white eyes took a step in for direction, making you take one back and ready a kunai. The one in blue made his move and charged before anyone could say anything.

“Bi Han! Stand down!”

The one named Bi Han froze, just as one of his hands was nearly going to grab you by the neck and throw you backwards. He grunted, walking to the other men and stood there with his arms crossed.

“Why are you here? How do you know my name? How did you find me?”

Granted, a mansion in Los Angeles surrounded by walls and fences next to a mountainside is the best spot but you sort of ‘earned’ this one. Who were you to say no to a glorious house you didn’t have to pay for.

“My name is Liu Kang, Protector of Earthrealm and god of fire. You, Y/n, are one of its champions.”

“You must be mistaken. I don’t know who or what you’re talking about. Perhaps you’re talking about needing a weapon of sorts?”

“No. I’m talking about you. You don’t remember us but trust me, I know a lot about you.”

He looked to the two men you’d beaten before he got here. One was named Johnny Cage, a massive fanboy of yours and he wasn’t the only one. The other, as you found out before making him pass out, was Kenshi Takahashi, a man also on the hunt for you. It wasn’t that you were in danger. No no no… they were the ones who were in danger.

“Alright then God of Fire… tell me something only you and I would know.”

“Your secret behind your prowess of your skills is that you are born from a family of healers, your parents having raised you in kinjitsu and using your Kitsune guide to harness your strength. You said you were destined to be a healer since your grandmother first taught you to start healing someone.”

You froze, never having told anyone this story of yourself to anyone… only keeping the darkness of your past behind you and try to forget it. This man was right, you’d been a healer and also a curser, someone who dabbled in poisons and deadly smaller weapons.

“How do you know that?”

“I know lots of things about you Y/n. I know of who you used to train with as a child as well. I know a lot more… if you care to hear about it.”

“Is this blackmail? So I do whatever you want me to do? No. I’m not like that. I’m better than that. You can’t control me with what you claim to know.”

“This is no blackmail Y/n. Trust me, I’m only here as a friend, just like how I’m here for Kenshi and Johnny.”

Bi Han moved past Liu Kang, readying an icicle spear with his hands ready to attack.

“Bi Han don’t.”

“She won’t listen to reason and I intend-“

You quickly shot a dart into Bi Han’s neck, seeing his expression change to fear as he fell onto his back and didn’t move once he hit the floor. Liu Kang just stood there with his arms crossed, holding back a laugh.

“By the Elder gods what did you do to him?”

You dusted off your shoulder, just to flex on Bi Han who lay paralyzed on the floor.

“Easy. Wolfbane. Paralysis and numbness, just below the lethal amount. Had I put any more and he’d be shitting himself and puking his guts out. He should’ve listened to you and not moved. Just give him Thyme and Lamb’s Creat in a wine. He’ll be fine in a few hours… maybe more.”

Liu Kang chuckled, leaving Kuai Liang sweating as he felt fear creep up his spine at the fear this woman in front of him radiated.

“There’s our classic Y/n I know. Care to follow us back home?”

You paused for a moment, thinking about whether or not the consequences of your actions would affect you. Surely nothing bad could come of this right?

Many, many months later…

Yeah… you didn’t regret meeting the other Champions. Raiden and Kung Lao were so happy to have you as a mentor, granted you aren’t much older than them. They watched you fight with such awe. It was almost like they regarded you as an equal to Liu Kang. You were strong, beating the both of them and Kenshi and Johnny again. You could train all day every day, as long as you didn’t hurt yourself. It was fun being able to get stronger in a way you never could as a child. All you had were two trainees you had grown alongside. It felt so relieving, being able to get better without anyone stopping you and now having an occasional “fan” watching you.

“You sure like to keep that blade don’t you now Johnny? You better not lose it, it’s still mine.”

“Yeah yeah I got it. Don’t break the sword.”

You rolled your eyes as Johnny and Kenshi walked away, going off to find Geras and Liu Kang, as they had a mission for the two men, along with Raiden and Kung Lao. Both weren’t happy and they’d much rather train with you, but they couldn’t say no to Liu Kang.

“Be safe and don’t do anything stupid.” You answered back

You went back to your training against the floppy dummy behind held in front of you with a stand. You’d purposely brought your dull knives on this occasion, since wearing down your good pairs would be pointless. As of now, you’d only lost one throwing knife since you’ve been here, having it get frozen and broken by Bi Han.

“You seem bored.” A voice called behind you

You looked behind you, seeing both Kuai Liang and Bi Han strutting up to you, specifically noticing Kuai Liang’s eyes focused on you. They seemed excited.

“Would you like someone to train with?”

“Or two?”

Sure? Why not indulge in showing off to the brothers? After all nothing bad could happen from this!

Wrong again…

Yep. That was a bad idea. It wasn’t even five minutes before Bi Han started correcting you, and you could see Kuai Liang cringing in the corner.

“Now do this… put this here-“

“You can stop overcorrecting brother.”

Bi Han shot his brother a look, Kuai clearly mad at something as well.

“I’m just making sure she’s fine.”

“I’m sure she can handle herself. She did beat you.”

You let out a small laugh as Kuai’s eyes settled to you, something comforting and warm inside them. Bi Han then turned his head to face you, you felt like winning against Bi Han might’ve been a really good thing. His ego was as large as he was, and it needed to get cut a little.

“Oh shut up little brother. You’re one to talk.”

Kuai playfully shrugged and moved to be by your side, turning you around so your attention was now on him. You could see Bi Han glare at his brother, then had a soft smile when he turned his head to you.

“Come on Bi Han. Let’s do this together.”

“Together? Why would I share a student with you?”

“Because we both can teach her something.”

“Oh please brother, like you have anything to teach that I didn’t learn. You and Tomas both. After all, I am Grand Master and leader of the Lin Kuei. What can you do that I can’t?”

“Not have my head up my ass like you.”

Alright time to go. You closed your eyes, shifting your hands into a ninjitsu symbol and felt yourself turn into air. You needed to be somewhere, anywhere away from these two. Maybe by sheer coincidence, you came stumbling into the room stumbling into Liu Kang, Raiden, and Tomas.

“Oh! Y/n! What brings you here?” Raiden asked

“Please don’t let them-“

“I’ve got you. Take this, I can distract them.”

Tomas threw you a smoke bomb, just one for you to escape and hide from his brothers. Raiden followed as he and Liu Kang let Tomas walk ahead.

“I really can’t believe I’m in a family with those two.”

To be continued….?

A/n: yeahhhhhh I’m sorry I’ve been taking so long I swear I’m working on them. Life’s been really shitty over the last 3 weeks so yeah… I’m mega unmotivated🥲 Anyways… PLEASE DON’T SPOIL DLC CAUSE I HAVEN’T PLAYED IT YET!!! Thank you, goodnight! Hope you enjoyed!

[peaxhxhair]

Hii! I was wondering if I can request junkrat dating reader who likes so lovey dovey with him, like always peppering kisses on him, always wants to cuddle etc 😚

Pairing: Jamison Fawkes (Junkrat) x Gn! Reader A/n: Ahhhh thank you for the request!! hope you enjoy! (Can you tell i'm super rusty cuz it's been 6 months...) Navigation Overwatch - MASTERLIST

Definitely gets distracted by you so easily - physically cannot work with you around.

Will start dropping stuff and accidentally blowing stuff up

As obsessed with you as you are with him, but he isn't really a clinger.

He couldn't focus - not with the way you were clinging to him. The way your lips connected to his neck, trailing down his shoulder as you kissed his skin. It hurt, the slight sunburn on his shoulders from the previous day making your kisses sting. He'd rather lose another limb than tell you to stop.

He really struggles to tell you to go away - since he would rather spend time with you than to work.

But if he REALLY needs to work, trust he's fighting himself when you finally leave.

It was difficult, telling you to leave him alone - but he couldn't keep you close when working with explosives. One wrong move and he'd lose another finger. The look you gave him when he asked you to leave his workshop really did break his heart, and he wanted nothing more than for you to obsess over him.

It'll be stuck in his mind for the rest of the day

If anything, it makes him work slower - since it distracts him pretty easily.

He'll often debate whether or not working is even worth it - but roadhog has to convince him that bombs are indeed worth it.

Even though it's his job, you worry the danger of it really get him killed one day - which you don't want at all.

"Jamie" He hears you call, and when he turns, he's made aware of just how late it must be. How long had he been sitting on the floor of his workshop for? To see you hold onto the doorframe in your pyjamas - your hair all messed up like you had been shifting around in bed for the past few hours. As his eyes lock with yours, he catches the frown on your face. "When are you coming to bed?" You ask, and it nearly breaks his heart to see you look so upset.

Truly he hadn't noticed how long he had been sat there for, so maybe it was time to take a break. He couldn't make you wait any longer. So, he gets up and dusts himself off, his hands moving to your cheeks the second you're close enough. He presses a soft kiss to your lips, and your arms wrap around his neck like you had been waiting all day.

You had, really. Him sending you away for your own safety did nothing to help with your longing to hold him. Maybe it was the feeling of dread in your stomach that made it so hard to be away from him - that one day you'd wake up without him, and his remaining limbs would be thrown around his workshop because something went wrong. It was almost unbearable to think about.

Before you even know it- he'd picked you up and was carrying you back to bed. His spine hurt a little from standing up so straight, but the way your body clinged to him made it hard to complain about. Your lips were already peppering kisses on his jawline, keeping him as close as possible until he had to put you down. Even then, he didn't stay away for long - laying down beside you as you move to cuddle into his shoulder.

"I missed you, Jamie" He smiles at your words, his hold on you getting tighter as he squeezes you.

"I missed you too, baby"