#overwatch x you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alientee · 5 months

Text

Mauga x reader and y’all mainly voted one shots so here’s one haha 18+ so minors don’t interact

🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️🏔️

Reader is worried about Mauga when he goes on missions with talon so Mauga eases her worries the best way he knows how. Mauga x afab reader. (Oral sex f.receiving, size kink, overstimulation , mating press, there’s a little manhandling going on .) I tried my best I’m not the greatest at le smut.

You were laying in bed, struggling to sleep. Mauga had been taking on a lot of missions with Talon lately. Now you knew your boyfriend was tough, but that didn’t mean his job as a mercenary didn’t come with consequences. He is such a free spirit, but sometimes his boss doesn’t like it, and you were afraid it would cost him his life one day.

You wanted to stay up just in case Mauga came back and he needed help. He didn’t like it when you worried for him, but you couldn’t help it. You look at the clock, seeing that it’s 1:45 a.m.

“Mauga… please be alright”

And at 2:00am, you let out a sigh of relief hearing the alarm turn off. You sit up, waiting for your boyfriend to show himself, knowing he would stay down stairs and eat his dinner you had left in the oven for him. Around 45 minutes later, you hear big stomps coming upstairs. He peeks his head in to see if you are asleep, and he frowns when he sees otherwise.

Mauga crosses his arms “baby I told you, don’t wait up for me. You need your sleep”

You sigh, you knew were this was going “I know… I just can’t help it… I wanna make sure your ok”

He walks toward the bed and wraps his arms around you. Every time he holds you, it’s like you drown in his big muscles, and it feels like safety. He grips your chin, making you look at him.

“I told you I’d always come back to you, even if I had to take every life I needed to, and I meant it. You understand me”

You nodded; you knew how serious Mauga was. It took a lot for you to accept that he works for Talon. What he does makes you scared of what could come from it. For you and for him, it took a lot of work, but you knew he loved you, and you loved him just as much. He stares into your eyes and makes sure you truly understand that he’s serious. Then let’s go of your chin. He reaches down and grips your hips.

“Good, lemmie put your mind at ease. Lay down”

“But Mauga” he stops you and pushes you on your back, gripping your hands above your head.

“Lay down, and don’t move”

You listen to his instructions and look away with a heavy blush on your face. It always gave you butterflies when Mauga got this way. You could never get used to it. He somehow always made you feel like it was the first time every time.Mauga chuckles when he sees you, his muscular body pressing against your soft skin. He leans in close to your face, his warm breath tickling your neck.

“So fucking cute, you like it when I’m rough with you huh" he whispers seductively before leaning in to kiss your neck

You moan in embarrassment not wanting to admit it. Everything about this man turned you on and you couldn’t help it. He was so big, and so was everything on him. Mauga takes your moan as a sign of approval and smirks, his rough hands trailing down your body. He grabs your ass, squeezing and kneading it as he continues to kiss and nibble on your neck.

“Gonna eat you out til you can’t worry that pretty little head about anything else.” He groans, his cock throbbing in anticipation.

“Please~”

When he made no move to continue, you knew it would take more than that. Mauga loved it when you begged; he loved it even more to tease you. He could play with you for hours and still wouldn’t let you cum. Getting you to the edge and making you want more is what got him going. He knew you would beg for him so sweetly. You always do.

"Please Mauga~, I wanna cum for you…please please please touch me!” You gaze at him with pleading eyes. "I'm begging you, Mauga. I can’t take it anymore. My body is burning to have more of you.” You gasp in between words, and your eyes shyly look away. “I won’t be satisfied unless it’s you”

Mauga's eyes darken, and he starts to smirk as he hears your plea. His hips start grinding against you. He grabs your face roughly, pulling your head to the side as he bites your neck hard enough to leave a mark. His other hand reaches between your legs, roughly tearing your panties off.

“Don’t cry about it being to much later" He growls, using his thumbs to spread you’re pussy lips "I'm gonna make you cum, over and over again doll"

Mauga's tongue darts out, tracing the outline of your pussy before plunging inside. He groans as he feels your wet heat, and his hands grip your thighs as his tongue thrusts in and out of your tight hole in a punishing rhythm. You begin to squirm and beg for more as he licks your wet folds.

“Maugaaa ngh~” you tried to grind against his lips but his grip was to strong

He growls low in his throat. “You're so nasty when ya wanna be; act all shy, then ya beg for it," he says before taking a long lick from your entrance to your clit. Savoring the taste of you on his tongue. He continues to lap at your pussy, pushing his large finger inside you, stretching you as he thrusts it in and out while sucking on your pearl.

“I can't wait to feel you cum on my tongue" he mutters against your pussy, his free hand gripping your hip tightly. He runs his tongue up and down your cunt while flicking your clit slowly. He could feel you clench around his finger, he sped up his movements. Mauga moans into your pussy as you grind against his face, the sensation driving him wild. He increases the intensity of his tongue work, flicking and sucking your clit, pushing his finger deeper inside you.

You could feel yourself about cum, your back arched and you started to feel your stomach tighten. The familiar release washing over you as you grip the sheets and released into his mouth. Mauga pushes his face deeper into your dripping wet pussy lapping up your cum and he doesn’t stop even when you’re shaking.

“Ahhhhhhhhh- Mauga.. I can’t…. s’to much!” You try to pull on his hair to move him back but Mauga smacks your thigh gripping it hard enough to leave a bruise. He pulls you back to him pushing his weight down on you.

“Stop moving and fucking take it you begged for it”

He continues to lap up your juices, his tongue swirling around your clit sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. You begin to shake from the overstimulation, but you had no choice but to take it. He was making a mess of you, kissing and licking on your pussy his saliva mixing with your essence.

Mauga begins to slurp on your sensitive pussy while getting your juices on his face pressing his nose against your clit causing more friction. His finger begins to rub against your g-spot and your eyes roll to the back of your head. While your legs start convulsing Mauga continues his attack on your sensitive folds. Not stopping no matter how much you beg. The sounds of him kissing your clit and flicking it with his tongue rang through your ears.

“Mauga please m’gonna make a mess”

“Go ahead sweetheart make a mess on my face”

You start to lose your breath. The familiar tightness in your stomach returns until you feel added pressure you never have before. “Fuuuuuuckk!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You end up screaming as you squirt all over his face. Mauga rubs his hands over your clit roughly making your juices spray out on his face and the sheets. He stares into your eyes as he slurps up your mess still shoving his face back in your pussy licking and sucking on your folds. You trash in his hold, not able to take his continued ministrations.

“W-wait…. Ahh~….. Mauga ! m’sensitive no more please!”

Mauga growls in annoyance as he grips your legs and pushes them up against the bed. Your ankles were in the air near you knew you were stuck. Mauga leans back and smacks your ass so hard it leaves a red mark behind. You couldn’t help but hiss in pain feeling the familiar sting on your ass. You knew you were testing his patience. Because he knew you could take more of it, you have before.

He starts to finger your pussy quickly trying to get another organism out of you. As you try to beg for mercy squirming in his hold Mauga ignores you, hitting your sweet spot repeatedly. Fat tears start to roll down your face as you release another orgasm. The overstimulation leaving you a panting crying mess unable to think straight.

“Told you to stop fucking moving” Mauga takes off his pant’s and gets on top of you bringing your legs back further he puts his legs on both sides of you trapping you in the position. Mauga could never fully fit in you at the start. He was atleast 10 inches, his cock was fat and heavy. Even when he was fully hard it could barely hold its weight. He strokes his cock a few times before rubbing it against your folds getting himself wet with your juices.

He slaps it against your clit a few times before he slowly puts his thick cock in you. He takes his time stretching you open, knowing how hard it is for you to take him in. He begins to thrust slowly inside of you giving you time to adjust. He pulls back only leaving his tip in before slamming back down inside of you. Once he feels you running your fingers through his hair he knew you were ready. He starts to go deeper as he feels your tight heat around him.

“M-Mauga….it hurts… m’to full” you whine feeling the sting of him stretching you.

“Hurts sweetheart? Lemmie rub that pretty clit, make you feel good”

He moves his hand down softly rubbing your clit in circles. You look at him through your eyelashes biting your lip finally feeling some relief. “Feel better baby?” You nodded at him.

His cock moves deeper and deeper inside you as you begin to relax. You moan louder, begging him for more, and the pain starts to turn into pleasure. He starts to pick up the pace, slamming into you harder and faster. Mauga smirks as he watches you lose control. He continues to thrust in you roughly, feeling your tight walls gush all over his shaft. The room was filled with your moans and his growls. The loud Pat Pat sounds of his heavy balls slapping your ass filled the room and turned you on even more.

You scratch at his back unable to do anything else but to take him fucking you while in the mating press. His movement gets more rapid as his thurst get sloppier as he feels you shake and tremble beneath him. The bed begins to creak and the headboard hits the wall as he roughly fucks you into the bed.

Manga’s entire body shutters, his hips bucking wildly as he feels himself about to release. He continues to fuck you into the bed, gripping your thighs, while his thrust becomes more sloppy. As you start to come undone, he lets out a deep moan, letting out spurts of hot, sticky cum inside of you. And he doesn’t stop for over a minute until you're full of cum, leaving your pussy a sloppy mess.

He lets out a sigh of relief, grabbing ahold of you, turning on his back, and bringing you to his chest with his cock still in you. You lay on top of him, satisfied with being filled with his cum and feeling full with him still inside. You lean up to give him a kiss, and he grips your ass cheeks, caressing them softly while your tongues are caressing each other. When you both separate, a string of saliva connects you. Holding each other, you both lay in silence until Mauga speaks up.

“Any time you think I’m not coming back to you remember that I’ll always do anything to be with you.” He kissed your forehead, and you genuinely believe him.

“I believe it….. just promise you won’t do anything to stupid”

“How about just the right amount of stupid”

“Deal~”

#mauga #mauga x reader #overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch mauga #overwatch x you #overwatch x reader #ow mauga #mauga overwatch #overwatch smut #maugaloa malosi

455 notes · View notes

korpuskat · 9 months

Text

In a Different Light

[Ao3 Mirror] Pairing: Ramattra/Reader Rating: Explicit WC: 9,256 Warnings: Super vanilla + size difference

He’d become fixated, completely focused on a group of soldiers hiding behind a line of armored vehicles. If he could just dislodge them, they’d have an uncontested avenue deeper into the city. He knows he can rush them, can get in close and punch straight through their cover. He peaks, HUD picking up each heat signature before him- more soldiers to the right than the left.

He doesn’t see the one four stories above them.

”Down!” He recognizes your voice, but doesn’t respond, doesn’t move. He can handle this, doesn’t need your tactical input-

And your arms close around his waist. What? He looks down, takes his optics off the enemy- and he feels your heel kick behind his knee. It’s not nearly enough to buckle him- but he allows himself to go down anyway, dropping into a heap back behind the barricade.

The bullet cuts through a ribbon cable.

You sink back into the seat, weight falling off your shoulders. Under the roar of the engines sliding from VTOL to forward propulsion, your sigh is completely inaudible, utterly silent to everyone. Everyone except Ramattra’s sensitive audials. You close your eyes and lean back, yet unaware of his gaze on you. He watches your pulse reading slow from its rabbit-fast battle-ready pace, lets his optics linger on the long line of your throat. The skin there is thin enough he could feel your heartbeat. His servos itch to reach out and try it.

He had let you pull him down. Why? A snap decision he hadn't even processed consciously. But why did he trust you that much? He scours his deeply-rooted runtimes, searching for what it was about you that had tipped that reaction in your favor. In his favor, given the cable that sparks brightly at the corner of his optics.

He'd nearly crushed you, only landing on his elbow at the last moment. You must've known how badly he could've hurt you; your eyes were wide, breath held in your chest as you looked up to him.

He was touching you. Your arms were still wrapped around his chassis, hands splayed near the sensitive column of his spine, legs aligned with his body, one hooked around his thigh. His hand at your hip. In the peaking lines between your armor, everywhere your skin touched his metal he could feel your heat, your heartbeat.

For a moment, all you could do is stare at each other. For a moment, he couldn't seem to focus on his objective.

You slowly unwound your hold, but don't quite take your hands off him. They end up holding the broad ribs of his armor. He's... glad. He liked the contact. He squeezed your hip, relished in the soft give of your skin and fat and muscle.

"Sniper," You had finally breathed- and the spell was broken. Back to work.

The rest of the squad cheers and chats jovially, an easy mission. He would agree, more or less. As far as he can tell, the only casualty was his own shattered cosmetic cabling- an effortless fix for another time, for now he simply disconnects the damaged cable. But you aren't celebrating with them. The entire flight, you've kept your head back and eyes closed, swaying softly with turbulence. He can tell you're not asleep. Even if his HUD wasn't keeping him painfully aware of your vitals, he watches your hands rub at the corners of your armor plating the entire time, watches the twinges of your expression.

Pain? Ramattra wonders. Had he hurt you after all?

His GPS pings an alert for their probable arrival a few minutes before the engines shift again. When they do, it jostles you up, leaving you grabbing the supports around you as the ship comes in to land. His gyros keep him steady, never having to look away from his study of you. Without fanfare, the cargo door opens and most of the troops pile out. You stand, grab your gear-

and you look back at him. A little smile, a slight nod. He cannot smile back, would not if he could, but he nods in turn at you. You leave, following the line of soldiers ahead of you.

Only when everyone else has left does Ramattra stand.

Your quarters are blessedly quiet, at least compared to the open bustle of the barracks. The insulation between walls is thin, built for structural support, not individual solitude. At least in the lower officers quarters. The higher-ups are probably given more leeway on creature comforts. You heard once that Doomfist has a hot tub in every base.

You’d kill for a hot tub right now.

Still, it's quiet and secluded enough for you to drop your gear and close the door behind you. The ceramic of your armor clicks against the metal door frame as you lean back. Even the slight shift of your weight off your feet brings relief- as does the cold metal that presses to the nape of your neck, the backs of your arms.

He was warmer. Still much too cool to be mistaken as anything organic, but still... warmer than you had expected. The buzzing of his CPUs must radiate enough heat to bring him just above the freezing metal you had expected. He had moved more, too- the spinning of his fans had made him vibrate softly under your fingertips, but more shocking than that, it was as though he was breathing, a rhythmic movement of his chest. Some kind of ventilation, you’d guess.

You close your eyes. The fall onto your back had knocked the wind out of you- but the weight of him had never landed. No, he had perched over you, balanced on one sturdy arm, the cables of his mane dangling- the matte black making the stark white of his faceplate almost glow. You're sure it's just lights from his LEDs, but in the black shadows you'd swear you saw the red of his HUD in his optics. And he was touching you- cool fingers had somehow wound up between the hard lines of your armor, slipped right up under your shirt. Five mechanical fingers that squeezed so gently, so unnecessarily.

His presence around Talon was... sporadic at best- and you'd never actually worked with him before. His disdain for humans was common knowledge, but so when you'd been assigned to his team you had no way to anticipate that outcome. And yet it wasn’t… unwelcome.

With a groan you stand up again- no use pondering it fully geared-up at least. Your forearm guards come off easily, with satisfying clicks. You toss the plating onto your bunk; you’ll have to inspect it later- given the fall you’d had, you might already need to replace some of it. Next, your boots- which clatter together as you kick them away.

You reach up over your shoulder to undo the chestplate- and hiss with pain. Your upper back lights up with sore muscles, not yet ready to be used again. Fuck, okay. You’ll get back to that one, you guess. Instead, you twist your arm behind your low back and undo the armor over your belly.

Your door clangs- loud enough for you to jump. What the fuck? Who would be bothering you now? You hastily drop that piece onto the same pile and turn the handle-

Oh.

He's out of place this deep in Talon's barracks. He seems to know this, adjusting his posture to stand tall before you- a defensive stance against the curious eyes of your fellow soldiers that pass by. At full height he just about touches the upper edge of the door frame, making you have to tip your head back just to look at him this close. Even though there's no malice in his stance, your skin prickles.

As much as you were captivated by your little shared moment in the street, Ramattra is still your boss, more or less- his alliances with Talon are much further up the food chain than you- and there's no good formal reason for him to be here. So, you treat him as though he's one of the council. Someone way, way above your pay grade with enough power to end you and never even see paperwork for it. You stand up straight and square your shoulders, lower your gaze with a perfectly canned "Yes, Sir?"

His optics drop before he can override it; somehow he did not expect you to be undressing. Even with your undershirt still on under the white Talon armor, his thoughts race, circuitry threatening to overclock. At your voice, however, Ramattra makes a noise of disgust, shifts his head as if scowling. "Enough of that, save it for Akande." You blink, lift your sight back to his faceplate as though it made any difference in reading him. He must've already cleaned up; there once was post-battle grime, but it's already been wiped away. You look to his cabled mane- and there, too, his damaged ribbon cable is gone. "I came to speak with you." Suspicion rises again in your chest, even as he clarifies, "Informally."

Informally in Talon usually meant some kind of internal politicking that you avoided as best you could. Somehow, that doesn't feel right here- why the fuck would he have use for you?- but you don't let down your guard just yet. The instinct to tack on sir to the end of the question is so strong it nearly slips out. "What about?"

"I came to apologize." What? You bristle; if he means to apologize for touching you, well, he certainly did not wrong you by any means. "And to thank you. May I?" He motions past you and despite how much you absolutely should not be inviting Null Sector's leader into your quarters, you do so anyway.

Your room is hardly larger than a supply closet; it's positively cramped with both you and an R-7000 standing in the meager floor space. It makes his movements awkward, aware of his large, sharply pointed feet; even if your armored boots were still on, having him step on your toes would be unpleasant. Without, much worse. So, Ramattra gives you an easy solution: "Please, sit."

It doesn't help your pained neck at all, nor the growing sense of unease. Still, you perch yourself on the edge of your mattress and watch as he adjusts his cowl. "What did you need to apologize for?"

"First, I wanted to thank you for assisting me. I should have seen the sniper, or at least considered the probability, given the terrain." His voice box makes a spit of noise, not unlike clearing his throat. "I came to apologize for... scaring you, when you pulled me from the sniper's view. It was unintentional."

Scared? You can't resist a barking laugh, "That's all? I knew I was risking dropping a big heap of omnic on me. I mean, I'm really glad you were quick enough to catch yourself and all, but really, there's nothing to apologize for, you didn't hurt me."

He waits a beat, considering his words carefully. "You seemed particularly stunned afterwards."

Ah. He noticed. Your cheeks burn. "I guess. You did too, though."

"I had just been shot at and had to trust that a human had my best interest in mind." He tips his head, "If you did not fear being injured, then why?"

"Um," You rub at your neck, chase your thoughts for any acceptable response. "I was- just surprised. You were... very close."

His response is quick as he leans in towards you. “And you were not afraid?”

What is that inflection in his voice? Did he want you to be? You stare at him, try desperately to read his immovable faceplate. You bite your lip- and unbeknownst to you, Ramattra's optics tick downwards to watch. "No, I wasn't."

You must've picked right, because his voice box hums a little noise of acknowledgement, a light nod following. "I see." He murmurs, then abruptly straightens up again. "Regardless, I came to give my gratitude and offer repayment." You would tell him that it's literally your job, that you'd hope he would've done the same for you, but once more Ramattra's head tips, then nods just off to your right. "Is your armor ill-fitting?"

You blink, then look- and find yourself rubbing at your neck once more. "Oh! I mean, kind of; all Talon armor is pre-made. Mostly I'm just a bit sore."

"May I?"

He steps forward without waiting for your answer, but doesn't actually touch you. Once again, you're very close to him. This time, he's standing, towering over you with his full height from where you sit. He's offering, your mind stumbles over it, replays his touch to your hip. "Um, s-sure."

He already knows where the release to your armor is; his large fingers pressing into the divot before you can even begin to direct him. "Oh," you slip out, then awkwardly shake off each half, shoving them off the edge of the bed. His hands move towards your shoulders- and hesitate. He'd been quick to step closer, to dig into the protective paneling, but the actual prospect of touching you, even through the thin material of your undershirt, must make him pause. It's short lived- and his hands are cold enough you can feel it through the cloth.

You suppress a jolt at his temperature- but then he squeezes and all rational thought is expelled from your mind. The aching muscles of your shoulders have no choice but to surrender to his unflinching, metal kneads. It takes everything, everything that you have to not moan- and still he manages to pull a stifled inhale from you.

At once his fingers freeze, “Do you need me to stop?”

”No.” It’s all whine, a desperate plea to chase that same mind-melting touch. So, he continues on. Cool, smooth fingers pressing into taut muscle, loosening up knots with surgical precision. And when he adjusts his angle, steps a little closer and digs in again, you do let yourself moan.

He doesn’t stop- but you feel the tremble in his hands and his fans kick up their speed, humming louder in the relative quiet of your room. He adjusts again, moves to the outer parts of your upper arms- and when he squeezes there the sharp, near painful relief shoots all the way down to your fingertips. Your eyes are all but rolling in their sockets, it's all too easy to let your lids drop, your whole body swaying with each movement of his hands.

He presses into your upper back, in the tight space between shoulder blade and spine- and you don't resist the urge to lean forward. You aren't sure where exactly your forehead lands, but his metal is pleasantly cool. The vibration from his ventilation hums directly into your skull. It's soothing white noise- and you want more. Slowly, enough to make sure he can see you moving, you raise each hand and place them on the outer edge of his thighs. There, the refreshing touch of his metal is covered by dark-colored canvas, but the cloth does little to mute the hum of his inner machinery.

It makes your hands tingle- and it makes his vents crank open another notch. Beneath your forehead, his surface chills even more as coolant rushes through his systems.

The question of why rolls over your head, though the clarity of thought comes and goes with Ramattra's touch. It could be just some kind of curiosity or ultimately innocent fascination with the physicality of human flesh- something you doubt he's had much chance to experience outside of combat- but if he were not an omnic, the implication of his tentative exploration feels... obvious.

On one hand, Null Sector's leader was rarely around your base, the shame and embarrassment of being wrong about his intentions would only occasionally be relevant, but on the other...

You swallow and roll the dice. Your hands trace higher on his legs, over the straps there until you reach metal again. He all but trembles, deeply unused to soft human caresses- even more so to the seldom-touched ridges of his hips' plating. "Do you..." Your confidence slips- but Ramattra stares down at you so attentively, you can't help but continue, just to know "Would you prefer… more?"

His hands twitch against you. "If you are willing," He says it so slowly, so intentionally, he's talking to himself as much as to you. "I will take anything you would give."

Your shuddering inhale must please him, because he nearly purrs as he trails the tips of his fingers across your shoulder blades. Fuck. It’s hardly a question of what you would give, of if you are willing. You let go of him just long enough to grab the hem of your shirt and peel it off.

For a moment, your world is entirely black- and when you can see him again, half-bared to him, you're already shivering.

It's unfair to call it staring when omnics don't typically blink, but Ramattra's faceplate tips downward and doesn't lift- even as you scoot back on your flimsy mattress until you reach the headboard. Only then does he meet your gaze again. You can't see his optics, shadowed entirely by his stark white faceplate, but there's a heat about him, all his focus settled on you- and your heart races. He sees this, too, on his HUD- the spike in your pulse, in your breathing.

Ramattra waits only a moment, shamefully double-saving this moment to his memory files, then follows. Immediately one of his heavy, metal knees makes the hinges of the frame creak in protest. His attention snaps to one corner- almost furious for having interrupted his pursuit. It would be your luck to have your bed broken by an omnic war machine before you could even fuck him. But Ramattra slowly eases his full weight onto the frame- and despite the pitiful whining of your cheap frame, it holds up.

Which is good, because Ramattra wastes no time to lean over you- the staggering height difference between you barely mitigated by his new position with his knees on either side of your legs. Your heart is racing, pulse thrumming all the way down to your fingertips- and he hasn't even really touched you- but he's eager to correct that.

He reaches for you- and there's a breath of hang time. An infinite little moment between his rubber-padded palm touching your neck, a perfect little bookend to all that was before. Because cool metal circles the base of your throat- thumb and forefinger rubbing over the ridges of your collarbones and sliding on- until his palm presses to the center of your chest- and it's unlike anything you expected.

His touch is exploratory, cautious, gentle as his hand slides up your neck, away from where you had really wanted him to touch. Instead, the rounded tips of his fingers trace parallel lines up each side of your throat. He stops just below your jaw, where your pulse beats hard against the skin. Somehow, there's no threat to it- a Ravager is holding your carotid, your jugular- and you don't even want to run. No, he's turned the tables on you- you want more.

It's difficult to be patient with his exploration, but his fascination here must be sated, because Ramattra's head tips- and his other hand presses to your chest. It's still painfully chaste; he's much too high, fingertips caressing your collarbone. He shifts, presses the heel of his palm into your pec- and, oh, you're melting into him again, because you didn't even realize that, too, was sore. As much as you wish he'd do what you're thinking about, his massaging touch is far from unacceptable.

Instead, you let your eyelids drift close, rest your chin upon the hand still at your throat.

Ramattra hums at this, one thumb stroking over your jaw in a motion so affectionate it makes your heart hurt. His fingers linger there, at the edges of your face- while his other hand finally begins to move. The rubber grip of his palm slides over the top of your breast, but his wrist turns, skirts along the side. He presses there a little, feels the weight of your chest in his palm. Already your skin is lighting up, goosebumps racing along your arms- and Ramattra shifts his hand again.

One breast entirely in his hand, his metal still shockingly cold to the underside- and yet somehow, your nipple stands free between his thumb and forefinger. He's avoided it entirely so far- but between the chill of him and the tension rushing in your veins, it's hardened into a little point. He squeezes your chest and you don't stifle your sigh.

He watches his own hand as he slowly sweeps his thumb across the stiff peak of your nipple- how it bends under his touch- and with a gasp, it pops back up. At your whimper he looks back up to your face and does the same motion again, just to soak in your reaction. The weight of his gaze is not lost on you- every sensor in his array is focused on your body, your face, the little hitches in your breath as he drags his thumb in a circle instead.

Your response must be fascinating enough, because the hand at your throat finally travels downwards, mirroring the other. Just having both hands on you makes your heart race, but now you're all but trembling when he hasn't even used the other yet. You expect more slow sweeps. You do not expect him to pinch- your sensitive flesh caught between cold metal plates- and then to tug on them.

You squeal, arch into his hands- half to alleviate the ache he's produced, and half because it felt good. He only half lets up. "Is that too much?" His voice box is so quiet you nearly don't hear him.

"No," You can only gasp- and with his confidence assured, you break off into a whimper as he tweaks your nipples. It's strange- his hands have no give, no softness to them, each motion is only relentless pressure and the hard edges of each joint. It makes every touch more acute, harsher even with his slow, cautious approach.

"They're softer than I expected," He says- and he sounds so cool, almost unaffected by how he's already making you unravel. "And more sensitive."

Oh. Something falls into place. It's not just you. "Have you ever... done this before?"

"Not with a human." Another sweep of his thumb has you shuddering. His grasp loosens, your skin tingling as blood returns to where he'd held it.

His curiosity here must've been satisfied, as his hands slide off to your sides. With only the tips of his fingers skating over your skin so lightly, you squirm under him- and grab his forearms. He stills, glances up to you- "Ticklish," You explain, then press on his hands until his whole palm meets your skin. "Firmer."

Ramattra hums, nods once in acknowledgement. He doesn't have to be corrected twice; his study of your body continues with more pressure. "And you?" Methodical presses over each notch of your ribs, tracing along the lines of each- pressing into the unprotected flesh below them, feeling over the soft pouch of your stomach. No longer feather-light, now it's almost clinical, and you wonder if he's comparing your body to schematics in his head. It isn't until he pauses, squeezes at your hip- a mimic of the same touch from earlier- for you to realize he'd spoken to you.

Have you done this before? The answer is, truthfully, not in a while, never with someone who made your skin feel so electric. You lick your lips and guardedly answer, "Not with an omnic."

He seems to accept this- and to keep him from questioning further, you move to unlatch your right greave. Your bed frame complains once more as he scoots back- and then begins working on your left leg. When you're once more down to your under armor, he stops, half sits back onto his heels. The glow of his optics is hidden, but you have no doubt he's watching you intently, waiting for something. If he expects you to wilt and change your mind, you hope instead he's pleasantly surprised that you hook your thumbs into the soft elastic around your waist and roll off both your pants and underwear.

You're suddenly aware you don't know where to put your legs- sliding them back under him would be counterproductive. So, you be just a little bold, and let them lay half-open across his canvas-covered thighs. Ramattra shudders. A visible quake up his spine, ends in little twitches of his fingers. Fingers that immediately press to your skin, two at first, just above your knees, then the whole width of his palm is smoothing up your thighs.

Higher and higher up your leg, his thumbs skating along the ridge of the muscle at the top of your thigh, never dipping in too close. Even as he approaches your waist, so tantalizingly close to your apex, his hands slide out, over the curve of your hips. You whimper, voicing your displeasure at his continued teasing. Ramattra answers only with a soft humming and those same thumbs pressing in to find the divots of your hip bones.

As attentive as his touch is, it's not helping the ache in your belly. Under him you squirm, press your thighs together to sate your growing need.

This, too, does not go unnoticed. "Patience," He chides and slides his palms from your hips back up to your sides. "We could not linger earlier; I intend to take my time now."

Oh. It doesn't stop you from squeezing your thighs again, but you do resign yourself to his pace. Again he passes over your navel before traveling down; this time there's no more cloth to impede his exploration. His thumbs follow the curve of your pubic bone, coming so very close- before returning to the safety following the long muscles of your quadriceps. With a cant of his head, he's particularly fascinated by this part of you, following the imprints of his fingers as he strokes down your legs.

Once he reaches your knees, Ramattra slyly slides his thumbs inwards, between your tightly pressed thighs. This alone has you shivering, aching to think of another round of his slow mapping of your body- but the soft press of his hands against your legs, urging them outward has every thought fleeing your mind. Shame drives you to press one hand over your face, but offers no resistance to him opening your legs once more. This time, his route from your knees to your hips is no longer exploratory- it's measured. His pace is slow, agonizing- barely inching along your skin, sweeping his thumbs, pressing in when you get too excited; it's an intentional lesson in patience that borders on torture.

And finally- finally- he doesn't turn his touch away. Ramattra's gaze is fixed between your legs, watched as he finally touches you. He traces the sensitive, thin crease of your thigh first- the last line between pretendably-chaste exploration and something else.

And he charges right past that line.

Without any warning, he drags one fingertip right down the center of your pussy. You gasp- and he's skating over your clit, parting your lips, almost dipping into you- before pulling back. With so much teasing, one stroke alone has your body thrumming, heat spreading from your belly. Above you, Ramattra hums- and spreads your lips with his free hand.

The embarrassment of his hawkish observation of your sex doesn't have long to set in, because once more his fingers return to you. Two this time, swirling at your entrance to coat his cool metal in your wetness, before sliding upwards. When he circles your aching clit, you don't even try to stop the moan that escapes from deep within.

Behind his white faceplate, his optics snap upwards and watch your reaction. He's used to seeing humans' heart rates spike when he touched them, but never with such a sound accompanying it. It's... different. Another stroke over the nub, another noise from your lips confirms what he'd already suspected: he likes it. He wants to hear more.

It's just like with your chest. He's all hard metal, no squishing softness of skin and muscle and fat- wherever his fingers move, your body has no choice but to follow, to fold under the hardness of his form. Each leisurely swirl pushes at you more than rubs, compresses and bends your most sensitive skin in incessant, cruel rounds and it's like nothing else you've ever felt. And it's too much, all too quickly you're squirming away from his hand, desperate for a break from the onslaught.

He notices. Ramattra can't not notice when your languid moans warp into sharp whines, when your hips that were grinding impatiently against his fingers, instead begin arching away from his touch. He pulls away, ceases the minuscule contact- and immediately your body relaxes, hips raising up towards him again. Was he being too rough? He recalibrates, actuators hardly moving at all when he meets the pulsing nub at the apex of your sex- and once more you're dancing backwards, face pinching. Yet as soon as he withdraws, another neglected, aching noise from your lips makes his frame shudder.

He almost scoffs; what a terribly human reaction- to flinch from his touch, then crave it as soon as he stops. He doesn’t understand why you’re doing this, but he can at least guess you’re not in any position to explain it to him.

Instead his touch wanders away, down along the creases of your body. A curiosity leads his fingers towards your opening and the wetness that has accumulated there. He traces the taut skin before him- and your heart hammers in your chest. He's so close, so close to being inside you. Your body burns under him, begs silently with every breath. With hardly any effort, his fingertips are coated in clear slickness once more- two shining strings between his digits as he examines them.

"Are most humans this... well-lubricated?"

"No," It comes out broken, your psyche unable to take any more of this- and your tone makes his faceplate lift. The slits of his optics are black, but you stare into them anyway and sob, "Please."

All five of his fingers dig into your thigh, a full-body shudder following your plea. Ah, now he understands. He leans forward, repositions himself over you, his massive frame entirely covering yours, but not quite touching. The heavy weight of his forearm lands next to your head as he murmurs- softer than you've ever heard his vocoder go- "Of course."

And he slides one finger into you.

You don't make a sound- your mouth falls open in mute relief- not even pleasure yet, just succor to your unrelenting need. Ramattra, however, stutters through a moan- the hand at your head curls into a fist, shaking with focus. Your body instinctively clenches around him, pulsing against the hard metal of his digit. As distracted as he is with your wet heat, he wastes no time in circulating the finger inside you- pressing against each wall, feeling the softness that surrounds every sensor, that ripples with each movement.

The first withdrawal is agonizing, the slow pull away, the half-second that you're nearly empty is unspeakable, an awful torment after finally knowing the shape of him. "I have you." He hushes before you can even whine. And he fulfills the promise, easing his finger back in. This time, you sigh- light and airy, lost under the sound of Ramattra's own ventilation.

Your body slowly releases its harsh grasp, relaxing into his slow, careful pace- sliding easily with every stroke, the soft noise of your slickness making your face burn. As the harsh peak of your need mellows into Ramattra's pleasurable touch, you're once more met with the impassive mask of his stark white faceplate. He's so close, you think you should be able to see his optics behind the faceplate- you want to see them- but he's blocking the only light in the room, casting his entire face in shadow, save for the mild, red lighting from the LEDs around his head.

He's gorgeous up close; all sleek lines and crisp enamel. Here and there are tiny nicks on his plating, like scars marking his body. Where you pant against him, his metal fogs- can he feel that? He's too far- and you wrap your arms around him to pull him closer.

You didn't realize how worked up he already was. Even to your fevered skin, Ramattra is warm, streams of hot air escaping past your forearms. He is actually enjoying this. The realization makes your pussy tighten around him once more- and in turn he curls the finger inside you.

You buck against him, the rush of pleasure driving any reservations from your mind as you thread one hand into the thick, black cables of his mane and lick at the pistons of his neck. The effect is immediate- his head drops down beside you entirely, bringing his shoulder even close to your mouth. Near your ear, Ramattra's voicebox rumbles, somewhere between a purr and a growl- the intent lost beneath a wave of static. And not to be outdone, he slips a second wide finger inside you.

The stretch pulls a moan from your lips, made louder by reverberating off Ramattra's shoulder plates. Two of his fingers already makes you feel pleasantly full, a respectable length and girth to them made even better with his attentive exploration of the hidden parts of your cunt- very aware of how every curl of his fingers makes your body sing for him.

And it does sing. Inside you, Ramattra gently spreads his fingers, urging your body to stretch even more, pressing ever harder into the soft flesh of your pussy- and you're helpless as you writhe beneath him. You don't even do it intentionally- raising one leg to press harder against his chassis. Perhaps, if his voice box was not right next to your ear, you'd have missed the spit of static that follows.

But you don't miss it. As lust-hazed as your mind is, all you can truly think about is how unfair it is that he's shown you so little. The hand not tangled into his wire-hair slides down his back, skirts around hot air vents, and dips between each silvery rib. The touch makes him shudder- a minute shaking of his rig that you wouldn't have even felt if he weren't fully pressed to your sternum. You linger at the thin hourglass of his waist, squeezing the thick, black cabling there appreciatively-- and first, Ramattra's hips faulter, a burst of erroneous data coming from the wiring you'd handled, then Ramattra groans, loud and almost droning as his stuttering hips meet the soft skin of your thigh. The shape of his lower plating means really only the top ridge is digging into you, but any discomfort is more than outweighed by his fans kicking up again.

You're ready for him- grabbing the last silver bar over his hip and guiding him closer. He doesn't resist at all. Without a single word, he follows, allows you to match the pace of his own fingers to have him rut against you in perfect time. He's almost fucking you; the proximity of him, the shape of his fingers- and suddenly you need it. To know what he looks like, feels like-- if he has one at all (though you hope he does, please, please-)

Ramattra pauses his thus far near perfect fingering- and you almost sigh with relief- he must have the same idea. Instead, he shifts his wrist- and the pad at the base of his thumb meets your clit. It's a pleasant shock- and when his fingers resume their thrusting, rhythmic pulling against you, you understand what he's done. Every tiny twitch of your hips makes your clit rub against his palm, and with his merciless knowledge of how to make you squirm, it's all he needs to make you gasp and clutch at him tighter.

All at once you're close, hardly more than a passenger to your own undoing. Each curl of his fingers is targeted, a planned attack on the sensitive innermost parts of your body- and with the uncommanded ruts of your hips, he's making you just as complicit in the rising fever of your need, using your own reactions against you- His plating meets your thigh again- and something like a moan spits from his voice box, a choked, half-buzzing noise that has you gasping, aching-

The noise you make is hardly human, barely recognizable as speech. "Wait," And yet the effect is immediate, before you can even croak out a clearer "Wait," he's already stopped, every joint locking up save for the turn of his head- and the lights on his faceplate burn bright, an unspoken question waiting there. He waits, silent, as you shiver and breathe, letting the hard edge of your desire die down before you can find any intelligible words, separated by harsh pants. "Can you?” Less intelligible than you had hoped. “Can you… fuck me?”

The lights on his forehead actually flicker, blinking asymmetrically as soon as the words leave your lips. His systems are in disarray, faulting, replaying your request until Ramattra has to halt the processes manually. It takes him much too long to croak out a barely understandable, static-fuzzed "Yes."

The withdrawal of his fingers from your pussy is agonizing, the last ring of muscle inside you desperately clenching against their retreat. The iron will it takes to keep your noises inside is physically painful, but somehow you think if you were to moan and plead that he let you cum now, he might actually short out. As it is, Ramattra is barely keeping it together. His hand is actually shaking as he releases the shiny plate over his groin, the soft hiss of pneumatics accompanying the distorted sigh from his vocoder. His dark paneling joins your armor on the floor and-

oh.

The first thing you notice is the lights. It's mostly thick, translucent purple silicone wrapped around a suspended mesh sensor array with red inlaid LEDs dotted under the surface that are nearly maroon through the pigment. The second thing is that it's massive. As big as his frame is, his cock is somehow bigger than you expect. It’s not quite the same shape as a human cock; the first rounded ridge is almost right, if only for the fact that it entirely circles the length. Behind it, two more ridges sit further down the shaft.

You can't help but reach for it. The groan that rumbles from his synth is just icing on the cake. "How...?" Fuck, you can't even close your hand around it, thumb and middle finger easily a full inch apart.

"I made it." He admits with a sigh. The tug of your skin on the dry silicone is awkward, but Ramattra shudders and rocks into your touch all the same. Until he seemingly remembers he was knuckle deep in you for several minutes- and shoos your hand aside just long enough to wipe your own fluids on himself. Purple with little red lights and glistening with your arousal- it's nearly enough to make you moan at the sight alone. It is enough when you stroke him again- and this time your hand glides over his smooth surface with ease. Ramattra feels the difference too, his head dropping forward as a plume of steam escapes from a hidden vent.

"Please," You can barely make yourself let go of him. He follows your hand as it falls between your legs, slips through your wetness in desperation to ease your need. "Ramattra..."

"It was," His voice box pops. A harsh little noise, then silence as it frantically reboots. When he speaks again, it's clearer- and there's something in his tone you don't recognize. "... not made for human dimensions."

"I don't care." You whine, grasping at his side once again. But he remains unmoved, his hands planted firmly on his knees, faceplate trained on you. His hesitance draws you out of your haze of lust, higher thinking forcing its way through your mind. Concern- it was concern in his voice. Ah. "If it's too much, I'll tell you. We can-" You swallow, and consider the possibilities that follow, "we can try something else."

And when this doesn't quite sway him, frustration takes control again. With a pitiful whine you present yourself to him again, a meager "Please, I need you." your final offering.

The actuators in his hands whine. A pressure warning pops into his HUD and is dismissed before he can even process it. "Yes." He rasps- it's agonizing how slowly he crawls over you, but the joy that he's moving at all is all you can really think about. "If you require me to stop, inform me immediately." You nod vigorously, almost missing how his voice drops, "I did not come here to harm you."

There's no time to consider the tenderness that laces his vocals, because he slides the head of his cock between your lips once, twice. The motion alone has your hands grabbing at him- and your breath all together stops as he begins to push.

He's big. Even with his mind-melting fingering, it stings as he slowly breeches you. His force is slow and even, but merciless. He does not pause at all as the widest part of his cock stretches you open, makes your face pinch together, thighs locking around Ramattra's thin waist. There's a high pitched little noise somewhere- and you can’t tell if it’s coming from you or Ramattra. As uncomfortable as it is for you, it must be heavenly for him. And yet he continues on- not a single stutter to his patient approach.

Relief washes over you when his hard hips meet yours- and above you Ramattra sighs. You're so full. All the way behind your navel- if pressed below your belly, you'd be able to feel him inside you-- if you could let go of him long enough to try. And it's tight- and truly you could redefine the word, with how harshly your walls cling to him, how you can feel every ridge, where every light is, just because it has slightly less give.

"You are..." He begins, vocalizer rumbling close to your ear. Simultaneously, you shift your hips, trying to ease the pressure that fills you up. Even such little motion cuts him off, makes him press his cool faceplate against your shoulder. His voice cuts through with another tone, like a radio station going out. "Sublime." One large hand lands at your hip, holds you close as he rocks against you. Fully buried as he is, all you can do is gasp and cling to him, digging your fingers into the gaps between his ribs. "It's like a current." He murmurs, almost in disbelief.

His comment is so strange, so stunned at your pussy, it pulls a delighted laugh from you despite how it makes you ache again. You move one hand from his back- and your knuckles hurt for how hard you'd been gripping him- to slide into the cables of his mane again. Ramattra purrs approvingly, a rumble that fills his entire body, permeates into you at every point of contact. He rocks with you again, and as much as you need him to stop moving, if he actually stilled you might just combust.

It hardly takes more than your hand moving to his hip and guiding him into a real stroke- even if you have to grit your teeth and hiss at his half withdrawal. The sound makes him lift his head, turn the dark slits of his optics towards you. He watches as you nod and urge him on with your calves on his thighs. He's slow, keeps that same agonizing pace- easing back into you with as much caution as the first time.

With the stretch already easing, the balance of discomfort to pleasure shifts- and you're closing your eyes, letting the ripple of electricity coast through you with each little motion he makes. Now, it's your turn to sigh, that fullness returning to you- pressed up against the deepest parts of you. When he lowers his head again, his faceplate is not buried into your shoulder this time. No, his LEDs are warm against your forehead, strange with the cool metal between each light. This close, you can hear the soft whirrs of his optics moving and re-focusing. Your breath fogs the white ceramic of his faceplate. If he minds, he doesn't say anything.

He keeps the rhythm on his own now, slow and even until he's sliding freely inside you without any hint of resistance, until you're needing. Words escape you as you clutch at him, press your forehead harder to his, whine with each glacial motion. He hums again, shifts his weight onto one arm- so careful to not break the intimate little connection he'd forged- to hold your hip with one hand. You can't see his optics through the narrow slits, but every sensor is centered on you as he so carefully moves quicker.

"Is this alright?" His voice hardly makes it out of his synth, so low and quiet- and so easily drowned out with your moaning. He’s still so gentle, even with his endeavor to please you in faster strokes, they’re each guarded, measured with careful calculations. There’s no force to them at all.

You can't seem to figure out where you want to hold him; both your hands bury into his cabled hair and stroke there, twist until a stunned little noise breaks free of his vocoder, then releases, fan down until you can hold at his shoulders, at the long pistons that would be collarbones. It isn't enough. Your hands skitter onward, over his arms, his sides, over and between the broad silver struts, in the black recesses between and back up. It takes everything to twist your hands into his cowl and beg. "More, please," Your lips brush his face, "Harder."

Ramattra's entire frame shudders, the hand at your hip pulling you ever closer, once more burying himself to the hilt. "Your…" He rasps, still shaking. "Penchant towards self-destruction is… astounding."

Where he had previously chided you with patience, it seems he has all but run out. The need is taking over him as well, because he doesn't even try to dissuade you at all as he completely moves himself. No longer laid nearly on top of you, his large form stretches over you like a breathing metal canopy, bracing himself with one hand on the wall. He keeps the other hand on your hips- and his next thrust brings stars to the backs of your eyelids. All metal, no give; his hips meet yours with a new vigor. But even more, his altered angle forces one light node up against your front wall. He doesn't even have time to ask if it's good before you're gabbing at his smooth forearm, twisting one hand into your sheets. His name slips from your mouth in a plea, but you can't even understand what you're asking for. "Ramattra,"

Above you Ramattra purrs, the pleased little hum from his vocalizer vibrating out into your room. Beneath you, your bed creaks pathetically- above you, the clasps at the end of his hair-cables clack together, announcing his pace to your neighbors- and you don't care. All you can focus on is the rhythm of his body against yours, the staticy noises that slip from his vocalizer unbidden, where the pad of his palm has caught your skin, holding you exactly where he wants you. And where he wants you has your toes curling, your eyes fighting to stay open. Heat coils in your belly, and it's still not enough.

"More, more," You pant- pulling at his hips with your calves. The sore reality of getting fucked hard by a Ravager is completely gone from your mind- tomorrow's pain has nothing on the haze of desire that leaves you with only harder, deeper, more.

Whatever reply Ramattra has is lost, the noise from his synth a harsh tone that sounds more like a modem than speech. He complies immediately, his next thrust pushing you further up the bed, pressing hard enough against your cervix to make you gasp. The sheets aren't enough, you need to feel more of him- so you grab at his hand again, at his chest, where he's become positively warm. "Fuck, fuck, Rama-ah- I-" Every word broken by a snap of his hips, by the little eek, eek, eek of your mattress frame. Each thrust has your eyes rolling, panting, keening little noises because you can't stop them- and the coil is so close, so tightly wound-

and somewhere, you hear a coin dink onto the floor, hear it spin on the floor. It's so odd you can't make sense of it- can’t give it more than half a thought because you’re so close all you can focus on is the boiling desire that’s taken over your blood- until Ramattra's hips meet yours again.

And for a half-moment you're in free fall, weightless. For one heartbeat, Ramattra is moving away from you- or, no, you’re somehow moving away from him.

You stare, wide-eyed at the dark slits of Ramattra's optics- until one metal hand slips under your shoulders, faster than you can think. He catches you, but not before you’re almost inverted.

A glance up tells you exactly what you expect: the front half of your frame has collapsed, the legs have fallen flat against the floor. Fuck. It doesn't matter; that need has not been sated in the least. You shift your hips against his, shake his hand off you, and brace one arm between your head and the wall. "Don't care."

If he's planning on hesitating, you don't give him a chance. With a grab at the hand still at your waist, you clench around his cock. A real, true moan rips from his vocalizer and all caution is thrown to the wind. He holds your ass up off the slanted mattress with one hand, keeps you so perfectly stabilized as he ruts into you. Any semblance of order or careful intent is lost; the instinctual chase of pleasure has taken both of you. All you can do is lock your legs behind his thin waist and ride out each thrust, rising to meet him where you can. So hard and quick you can barely keep up with his pace, leaving you squirming beneath him, twisting your fingers into your hair as the heat rises again.

Your mind narrows down to a point, "Please, please- don't stop, fuck- Ramattra-"

Another groan from his throat and he grabs your waist with both hands. No longer just thrusting- he's all but pulling you up off the floor, spearing you onto himself over and over. He uses you like an oversized toy, fucking into you with abandon. And you hadn't even realized just how large his hands were. His thumb reaches right across your thigh, parts your lips to press against your clit. He strokes in time with his hips- and you're gone.

With him supporting most of your weight, you arch into the air- and clench down on him hard. Something in his throat pops before a groan cuts in. He doesn't stop moving, even as your walls flutter around him, as your voice goes hoarse. One hand leaves your hips- and something flutters down across one shoulder. You fight against the waves of ecstasy- each crashing over you, drowning out your senses in liquid pleasure- just enough to crack your eyes open as he peaks.

His body freezes, joints twitching out of sync, fragments of uncommanded movements while his voice breaks, a harsh tone pouring out before it clicks off entirely. You squeeze around him again- launching another wave for yourself- and above you, Ramattra's lights flicker, twinkle like stars- and then turn off. Offlined. Good. You join him shortly, closing your eyes and surrendering to the pleasant warmth that surrounds you.

When you wake again, you're right-side up. It takes a series of barely-coordinated blinks to clear your vision. It's somehow more disorienting than having been nearly upside-down to begin with. More so, you're not in your bed. No, you're wrapped up in your sheets, but you're firmly in Ramattra's lap- who has ended up sitting cross-legged next to the remains of your bed frame. It's... surprisingly cozy. The sheets soften up the hardest angles of his body and keep you warm while his frame regulates itself back to its usual cool temperatures.

"My apologies," He says in lieu of greeting. "It seemed impertinent to leave you... there."

From the forty-five degree angle of your mattress and how it's squished up against the wall. A white dust has spilled over your pillows- and it takes you much too long to piece together the Ramattra-fist-sized hole in your drywall. A tentative touch to your hair confirms flecks of paint and plaster. Yeah. You could imagine you probably didn't look very comfortable.

"Thanks," is what you try to say, but it comes out a rough rasp. You swallow several times to ease the dryness in your throat, but Ramattra seems to hum in appreciation. In all fairness, you had been all but screaming his name. A noble way to lose your voice. "Thanks," and this time, it sounds human enough.

"And I am sorry for damaging your quarters." He modulated a noise not unlike clearing his throat. "I may have gotten carried away."

You can only grin and slur your words. "S'okay, it's all cheap 'n Talon maintenance is fast." Honestly, it��s a compliment. Maybe a little inconvenient, but hey. Who else can say they made the leader of Null Sector cum so hard he dug his fingers into your literal wall and shut down? You shift in his lap, lay your head more comfortably against his shoulder. When you settle, he holds you closer. "Benefits of no questions asked type of work." Once more his only reply is a quiet hum of acknowledgement. It's an easy silence- save for the quiet whirr of Ramattra's fans, which have returned to their normal pace. Only when you absolutely need to know do you risk asking, "Can you stay? For a bit longer?"

He pauses, considers the question. He shouldn’t, truthfully. This excursion has already gone well past what he had planned for. But there’s something nagging at his logic circuits, the same little impulse that had made him fall at your command. It had saved his life before- and gotten him here. When has he ever been able to deny himself his curiosities?

"Yes. I have time." He says and pulls you closer to him still, until he can feel every rise and fall of your chest, despite the blanket between your bodies. Internally, he sends a message that he'll be unavailable for a debrief with Akande.

This time, it's you that hums as you bury your face into the pistons of his neck and close your eyes.

-----

Sequel

#ramattra x reader #ramattra x you #ramattra #overwatch #overwatch x you #overwatch x reader

739 notes · View notes

vip3r-r · 25 days

Note

Could I request venture kiss hcs? :3

I would love to kiss them so bad guys, yall would probably understand cuz GADDAMN, they looks so fun to kiss and just have around… ugh

Warning- probably some spelling mistakes, no double checking, gender neutral reader

venture would definitely love kissing you! before they go out to an expedition, after they get back, while you're cooking, you get the point.

I feel like they would hold you by your waist, do little circles while they look into your eyes, smile before kissing you gently and start telling you about that new rock they found in the expedition.

WILL tell a joke or just joke around while they kiss you

“you really rock my world” while laughing and trying to kiss your lips once more

likes it when you kiss every inch of their face! the feeling just makes them giggle and it would be a plus if you had lipstick on! because you left that kissing trail on their face that it's just so nice to look at

LOVES when you kiss their tattoo in their neck!

does not care about the public, they WILL kiss you in front of everyone because in their point of view, it's just a kiss, what's wrong with that?

never ever will they go to bed without a goodnight kiss

hold their face

i repeat, HOLD THEIR FACE

if they aren't doing it to you, do it to them, they feel like they're being held by the angels themselves

This was short but mostly because I didn’t have much to work with, this all I got… BUT I did get a request for a sloppy kissing at the bar so I’ll probably post that later today!!! If you want to request something else please don’t be shy to ask!!

#venture my love #overwatch venture x reader #overwatch venture #venture overwatch #venture headcanons #venture x reader #overwatch x you #overwatch #overwatch x reader #sloane cameron #sloane Cameron x reader

173 notes · View notes

boobav · 1 year

Text

Medical Attention

Cole Cassidy x Reader

a/n: why are there so many bj fics and never handjob ones I think we need to start addressing this in the fanfic community...

content: smut (handjob), a bit of blood, un-established relationship, afab!reader

word count: 3.5k

Bullets spewed from what appeared to be the cliffs themselves, pinging off metal and digging into wood all around your crumpled form; you twitched at every impact, at every sound, and instinctually budged up closer to the man taking cover beside you. Your thoughts were racing at useless speeds- how had you not noticed your attackers sooner? How had someone like you ended up in such a tight situation? It really was a sucker-punch to the ego your career had carefully cultivated up until now. Another bullet smacked into the metal behind your ear and sent it ringing painfully- but you had to think of something unless you felt like fucking dying- which, unsurprisingly, wasn't on the agenda. Your eyes skimmed back over the area as if they hadn't done so a million times, squinting through the riled-up dust and reflections of sunlight. Dilapidated buildings were spotted about the area, 24/7 neon signs dead in the daylight, but no, none of this scenery struck a cord with the escapist spirit in you.

You spoke, words spilling out as liquid, "How the hell are we getting out of this Cass?" His sharp eyes darted to yours, shadowed by the cowboy hat that had to be replaced bi-weekly due to bullet holes. A cigar was notably absent from his parted lips, typical behaviour when he was, for once, taking a situation seriously.

"We're gonna make for that buildin' sugar, after I chuck this," He raised a blue flashbang to your vision as another flurry of bullets ricocheted off your flimsy cover, "Lady's parked up ahead, we can make it, I bet."

You would've scoffed if the situation was anything but this, "Your bike?"

"Uh-huh. You ready?" Your eyes ran to the weighty shift in his hips, and you nodded an affirmative. Whether this was gonna work or not it was the best bet you had, really. Cassidy's sweat-lines brows furrowed deeper, and without another ounce of hesitation he tore the grenade's pin off with his teeth, proceeding then to lob it backwards. Someone shouted, a sound so shrill it almost sounded like a fire alarm, and as the crackling-sound erupted, Cass grabbed your wrist and forced you into a wild sprint across the gravel road. Your boots kicked up dirt as they pounded against the ground, dry air forcing that grime to cling to your clothing in moss-like clumps. Cass didn't break his grip once, forcing you to adopt his relentless pace, and right as you reached your destination, he, with a messy harshness, threw you into the open doorway before himself. A single bullet shot into the open air, whistling like a stock-sound effect, and it forced from your partner a strangled cry as he dove through the doorway. Poisonous panic filled your veins- but it was swiftly knocked out by the cowboy landing unceremoniously on top of you. Every ounce of air was expelled from your lungs in an instant, and your lungs worked overtime to gulp back replacements. Note to self: never, ever expect grace in this job.

"You get hit?" You spoke in an exhale, hands tugging at Cass' belt to drag him and yourself deeper into the wooden building.

"Sure as hell feels like it," He grunted, rolling off you to lean against the wall and examine his left leg; you scrambled up too, wary of the time limitations, and ripped off a strip of your relatively-clean undershirt. Cole's eyes were watching you with an acute intensity, but you were so focused on wrapping his leg that you didn't even notice.

You pulled the shirt-made-bandage into a knot, "No it just skimmed you, lucky since I haven't a clue how to drive a motorbike. Come on cowboy." Upon standing, you tugged Cass up too; in any other moment you would've made fun of the uncharacteristically pathetic whimper that left his throat, but seeing as he'd been shot, you shut up. "You can walk?"

"'Course I can." His gaze met yours as you stood face-to-face, "Whilst it's numb anyway. Come on,"

He lead you out the rustic building's side-entrance, and whilst the wind whipped up the empty town's street, the two of you snuck from house to house until reaching one painted in peeling white. The town itself seemed utterly deserted, a sad old mess really, but it had its charms. That flickering café sign, for example, had a strangely comforting aura about it... Though it was rather hard to enjoy whilst being pursued by a group of bandits. You pressed inside the white building- but Cass grabbed hold of your wrist and held a finger to his lips. There was someone outside, moving as quietly as you, so apparently your pursuers had split up to quicken their search. A smart move. Usually.

You moved on, one tentative foot in front of the other, and when the footsteps outside made it clear that their owner was about to breach the building, you pressed yourself smoothly besides the door, silent, ready. The stranger's cowboy hat poked in first, and with a satisfying 'smack' a moment later, you pistol whipped him into oblivion. Oblivion meaning sleep, of course.

Cassidy flashed you a slightly alarmed smile, "You sure you didn't kill him with that swing?"

"Mm, I'm sure. Maybe next time." He tilted his head in a sort of... Apprehensive approval and pushed you through the door by the small of your back, ushering you along.

"Alright, let's pick up the pace. Not long now." His southern drawl did nothing to add to the urgency, in fact, it did the exact opposite, which tended to be the case so often it had to be purposeful. Sometimes you really did question his attitude to life. It was distinctly casual, distinctly nonchalant as if his life wasn't in danger every week- which it most definitely was. Still... He was skilled, smart in his own way, cute too, if you dared say it. So sticking alongside him wasn't too difficult a task.

The rest of the short journey went quickly and smoothly; the midday sun beat down upon your sweating back whilst objects wavered uncertainly in the distance, but, despite the difficulty scorching heat brought with it, you kept moving. Soon enough you made it to Cassidy's horrendously parked motorbike, wincing as he tested his damaged leg. The dusty cliffs stared down at the two of you, looming but providing little shade, and as the bike spun into motion a figure emerged on a nearby clifftop; your eyes narrowed, your breath stilled, and in a split-second you drew your gun and fired once. The enemy's own bullet skid past your face, bristling past a strand of hair, and they went down with a distant thud as your shot connected with their leg. Your exhale was long as you pressed your head against Cass' back, arms wrapping together around his torso. Safety, you hoped, would come without further fire. Well at any rate, you were much too tired and lazy to pick your gun from its holster again, so maybe you'd be swerving around dodging bullets for the next hour.

"Glad we're on the same side, pumpkin." Cass chuckled, metal arm patting your thigh in congrats, but, despite your laugh, your eyes were trained solely on the dark stain spreading methodically, thread by thread, over your companion's dark jeans.

The ride to the safehouse was calm, breezy even. The wind rushed through your hair, cooling you considerably, a gracious gift in this sweltering heat. Buildings and homes rushed by, each soon becoming a small dot in the background of your picturesque ride. The world and its inhabitants appeared fleetingly, mirages of another life, and you were far more content than you'd like to admit. Freedom encased you, lifted you into higher spirits, and with Cassidy mumbling stupid little stories to the air, this feeling was greatly accentuated. Heaven, in this moment, was completely real to you. Your partner shifted his leg, causing a hitch in his breathing; you looked down through your lashes, cringing against his shoulder as you stared at the drying blood stain. That, perhaps, was not so heavenly.

Luckily, the dusty safehouse was right around the bend. Cass parked outside in his usual sloppy manner, and with his metal arm slung over your sore shoulder, the two of you stumbled inside.

"Alright, sit-" You grunted in exertion, "Right there. I'll grab the medkit." Cassidy collapsed onto the couch, head thrown back in the throes of post-adrenaline-realization. You dashed off, returning near instantaneously, ruby med-kit in hand, and proceeded to settle onto the floor to be in-line with his wound. There was no time to waste, seeing as if this thing got infected it would become a much larger issue. Cass stared down at you through his lashes, watched as you carefully pulled off his armour plating, carefully rolled up his jeans. He hissed through clenched teeth as the reddened edge of the cut hit fresh air.

"Slow down sweet- shit stings more than I thought it would." You obliged, but it's not like you could've kept moving anyway. The bullet had skimmed him at a weird angle, below the knee and not easily accessible. If you'd tried to tug his jeans up further it would probably hurt...

"I think you're gonna have to take your pants off."

"What now?" The instant shock on the cowboy's face was enough to make you double over laughing- and he joined in with that strange chuckle one does when not quite understanding a joke.

Your laughter faded, and you choked out words, "I said you need to take these off," You unrolled the jean leg and pinched it, "I can't get to that cut properly otherwise." You were slightly embarrassed at the words leaving your mouth, but your mind was prioritizing getting this issue dealt with before worrying about strange fantasies. Cass stared down at you, an adorably dumbstruck look plastered on his face, but it was soon replaced with a mild amusement.

"Alright then." His deft fingers moved to unbuckle his belt and the infamous 'BAMF' buckle clinked against itself. "I think 'ure lyin' just to see me half-naked."

"What! You're projecting real hard, Cole." He just chuckled, then shrugged, a wide smile now taking residence on his bearded face. "Stop smiling and take your goddamn pants off!"

"Alright, alright. Yes ma'am." His light eyes flicked to yours with undertones of slight uncertainty, but a sly grin stayed present. It was too infectious- you had to smile back at the stupid man, but, despite all the joking around, you felt an almost teenage nervousness taking hold of your heart.

Cass' belt slid through the loops of his jeans, smoothly, and then clattered to the floor as he discarded it. The button of his jeans came next, popping open with directions from his metal hand, and then his zip slid with a satisfying sound. You realized you were staring, and glanced away, eyes finding perch on some ugly painting you'd never noticed before- Christ it was ugly. Who had thought putting that up was a good idea?

By now Cassidy had shucked off his hat, boots and now stood, kicking off his jeans with all the grace of a three legged dog; he made a low noise through his teeth as the fabric detached from the drying wound. Whilst he was at it he pulled off the armour on his chest, but he treated it with a bit more care than his poor belt. It found perch on the floor, and with that done, he fell back into his comfortable couch position, exhaling in the pleasure of having an un-burdened chest.

He sat now, leaning back with his hands over the back of the couch, in black boxers and a casual undershirt. It's not like you hadn't seen him like this before... You had. Maybe once or twice. But your relationship tended to be relatively professional, relatively business-focused. Whenever, even for the briefest second, it went further, you felt the sharp constrictions of a heart that did not want a 'business relationship'. And that, especially in this economy, was a red flag. A red flag that was on fire and waving around desperately in the desert wind.

His voice pulled you back to reality, "How's it lookin' Doc?"

"Not terrible. Isn't too deep, either." You got up to fetch a little towel from the bathroom, wetted it, and returned to your post. "But it's gonna mess you up for a week or so." The white towel reddened as you brushed it gently over his upper-calf, wetting the tanned skin and blood-speckled hair; your movements were gentle, probably considered by most to be caresses. As you swept directly over the cut he sucked in a harsh breath- but you dared not look up and make eye-contact. You wrapped up the wound after cleaning it thoroughly, round-and-round the bandage went before being tied into a neat little knot. Cass had said barely a word during this process, and, seeing as he usually never shut up, that was rather concerning. Brief, throaty noises of pain were all that came from him; there had never really been a problem of tension between the two of you, but right now, in this odd moment where you lay kneeling on the floor packing up a med-kit in front of a modern-day gunslinger, the air felt thicker than mud. It made you feel something you'd never felt before in this mans presence: self-consciousness. Your kept your eyes to the floor, not looking up once whilst closing the kit- and finally, as you stood and took a fleeting look at your partner, you realized exactly why he was unable to form words.

He was hard.

His entire body was brutally tense. He was no longer slack against the couch but sitting almost completely upright. The only thing giving away his living status was the shallow breathing of his chest. You had no fucking clue what to say or do and, oh god, when he finally met your gaze it felt as though you'd fall right to the ground and pass away. Though, that would be extremely embarrassing, so you avoided it.

You decided to mutter some nonsense, seeing as he was clearly struggling to say anything. "It's... Normal... For that to happen." Was it though? Was it normal to get hard over your friend dressing your painful wound? Probably not.

He cleared his throat, his words coming out strained, "Yeah... I don't-" But he couldn't finish. His head fell, an awkward cringe disappearing with it.

Fucking hell.

You felt a years worth of unrealized fantasy wash over you in a tidal wave; you had to do something, now. Did you want to escalate this thing from a business relationship? You almost laughed at the thought- if this was anything like a business relationship, you wouldn't have been on the floor tending over him like a concerned lover in the first place; he certainly could've dealt with the problem himself. Blood was rushing through your ears and right as Cassidy was about to stand and condemn himself to a torturous bubble of embarrassment- you spoke with stunted words.

"I can help. With that." His face returned from its sullen position, confusion with an edge of shock present on it; his lips moved beneath his beard, attempting to form words, and in this brief silence you were almost overcome with grief at what you'd said. What if it really was normal, and he thought the idea of doing anything with you was preposterous? What if he was chaste as a monk and you had just offended his honour?

"You-" He breathed out a chuckle, finally responding, "You sure 'bout that?"

Relief rushed through you, an antidote to the overthinking, "I'm sure."

Cass looked down, considering something, and returned to your gaze with a newfound intensity. He patted his solid thigh, once, and spoke. "Come on up then, doll."

Fuck it. Everybody's slept with their partner-in-crime-cowboy-friend at least once in their lives.

You were soon straddling the man's thigh; a glint of amusement twinkled in your eyes as his hips shifted, his clothed cock twitching at the two of you making contact. Now inches apart, you slipped your fingers under his shirt and smoothed over the chiseled skin, lust-clouded eyes searching his for approval, and an ocean of it you found. His gaze flicked to your partially-open lips, then back up, then down again, and as your fingers brushed over his needy cock- he pressed his lips against yours with a moan, beard scratching against you in a strangely endearing manner. Images of previous nights alone flashed in your mind, now surrounded by a mocking aura- this could've been yours long ago. You freed him from his confines as his tongue met yours, cock hot and heavy against your palm. Cass' metal hand met your waist whilst the other clenched at the couch, veins flexing at the strain. That was the part of him you loved the most, you thought, his strong hands that treated you and you alone with so much tenderness.

Your own hand begun its motions almost automatically, stroking his throbbing cock at a withheld, teasing pace. Unfortunately, during this, you had to pull from his wild kiss for a gasping breath. His gaze was burning through you, half-lidded and desperate; it was like being in the direct view of a God, a being so important that you felt the urge to dedicate more than you could offer, to offer everything to him. Strings of praises left his pretty lips, 'keep goin', princess' his eyes now screwed up in an almost painful expression of wavering ecstasy. You withdrew your hand from his cock for a millisecond to spit into your palm, and his eyes re-opened to investigate the interruption.

He was so gorgeous you could cry.

The perfect hair, framing the perfect face with the perfect nose, the messy beard and perfectly intense eyes. You pressed against him another chain of brief kisses whilst wrapping your fingers around him, one at a time. On impulse he bucked into them with a shuddering groan that shot right to your core; the look on his pleasure-drunk face was so erotic you truly thought it alone might make you cum. As if hearing your thoughts, he bounced his thigh, a gasp spilling from your lips at the shock of friction against your clit.

You quickened your pace, deft fingers wrapped tight around his cock and moving in quick pumps. Your thumb pressed thickly against the head of his dick, a bead of pre-cum slipping over your fingers as he threw his head back with a indiscernible curse; the pride that filled you over having this strong man come apart at your ministrations was immeasurably sweet, immeasurably tantalizing. You moved closer, pressing against his tanned neck a line of wet kisses, hand pumping his cock desperately fast and forcing from his throat a string of grunts as he grew closer and closer to his peak. More broken words stumbled and fell from his lips, 'jus' like that, keep goin''. He was rutting up into your hand now, apprehension and control gone to the wind; his expression was in the throes of pleasure, eyebrows arched, wet lips parted absently. He met your eyes through his dark lashes, a weak smirk finding perch on his expression; he looked so utterly wrecked by a mere handjob, shaggy hair a complete mess against the couch, and at once it hit you that all those lingering glances and touches were far, far from those of a concerned friends. The thought of him yearning for this, yearning for your touch, made your thighs clench with unreserved arousal; by now your panties were soaked, but not for one second did you think of anything besides Cassidy. You kept moving, hand tugging from the base of his thick cock to the head, and he kissed you again, hard, moaning into your mouth whilst he twitched in your hand. Finally- his firm hips stuttered as he spilled hot cum over your fingers and his own dark shirt. You hummed in approval against his mouth, soon after pulling away for pesky air. Cass meanwhile let his head fall back against the couch, chest heaving against that much-too-tight shirt of his. Feeling rather bold, you raised your hand to your lips as his gaze re-emerged through his lashes and licked his mess from your fingers- his instant response came as a groan and a firm slap against your thigh.

"Can't say that's how I imagined us endin' up in this situation.." He sighed, contently, but tiredly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked, pressing another chain of hot kisses against his neck as he tucked himself back into his boxers.

"Thought maybe I'd rescue you or somethin', have you profess 'ure undying love." He was grinning... But something told you that this was an actual macho fantasy of his.

"Well, there's always next time cowpoke." You rolled off his thigh, settling onto the couch beside him. "How are we gonna explain to everyone that this is how we got together?"

Cass chuckled, mumbling something about the night not being over, and reached over to grab his hat and settle it onto your head. You glanced over, confused- but the look in his eyes said more than any words could.

#cole cassidy x reader #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #overwatch smut #overwatch imagines #cassidy x reader #cole cassidy smut

1K notes · View notes

paganprankster · 4 months

Text

THE TILT OF RAMS HEAD IN HIS PROVOKE EMOTE GOT ME CRYINGGG

I need him fr. right neow. What if i did a lil fanfic of him to satisfy my hunger teehee

#multifandom #ramattra #ramattra x reader #ramattra x you #overwatch x reader #overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch 2 x reader #overwatch x you #fanfic #fanfiction

225 notes · View notes

venturelovebot · 1 day

Text

A/N: AAAAAHHHH my wrists, fingers and elbows hurt but it's done. It took me literally all night to write this. If it doesn't show up in the tags, or if it horrifically flops, I do not care. I loved every moment I poured into writing this and I'll reread it until the end of time and YES I will write a sequel to it AND MORE because I love it that much. Just not right now because ouch. BTW this references what happens in "Plushie Problem" so if you're confused you should read that, too!

Premise: Anxious!GN!reader steps out of their comfort zone for the very first time in a long time. Of course, what could possibly go wrong? Featuring SunShrine and MekaMechanic cameos!

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and assault (not SA). Otherwise it's safe to read!

You feel the dread building up in your stomach as sun began to set over the horizon– but you were ready. Living your life in fear turned out to be exceptionally boring, even if you weren't exactly the loneliest person on earth anymore. This would be your big first step into interacting with the rest of the world and obviously there would be some anxiety. However, no one does anxiety as well as you do. There is where the problem lies.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" You can hear the worry in Sloan's voice. Perhaps you've started rubbing off on them.

"I think so."

You step outside the bedroom and smile, but even that seemed to be out of fear.

"I'm proud of you for trying this. You look amazing, by the way." Their compliment turns your anxious smile into a cheerful grin.

You've never dressed up this much before. It almost reminded you of an early 2000's Hot Topic ad, and they were dressed no differently.

Your beloved wraps their arms around you and pulls you in for a tight, comforting hug. They nuzzle their face to yours and you begin to feel the lead in your stomach lighten to feathers.

"Don't forget your backpack." They hand you your heart shaped backpack adorned with bat wings.

You open the zipper and check for everything inside: fidget toys, tiny weighted [favorite animal] plushie, protective ear wear decorated with stickers, anxiety pills, phone, wallet. That was everything.

"Are you ready?"

You take a deep breath in and exhale to center yourself before the door opens.

"I'm ready."

The venue wasn't particularly crowded tonight and you were deeply thankful for that. Colorful flashing lights could be seen on both stories of the building with loud music playing from within. Then the anxiety hit you like a pound of bricks.

"We still have time to go home." Sloan offers, seeing apprehension beginning to form on your face.

"Maybe just twenty minutes... then we go home." You frown.

"Whatever you want to do, mi cielo."

You gaze down at the ground next and weigh both options in your mind. On one hand you could avoid anything unpleasant happening by just going home. On the other hand you'd miss you and your beloveds favorite band as the closing act. While arguing with yourself you can feel their arm wrap around your waist to help you feel safer.

Quite the conflict.

You swallow nervously and put on your hearing protection. "Okay."

The two of you approach the main entrance and your trembling continues. As soon as the door opens it feels like the music permeates you down to your very atoms. Never in your entire life had you heard anything so needlessly and obnoxiously loud. The ear protection helps slightly but you still couldn't hear yourself think. There's also no point in trying to talk as you wouldn't be heard anyway. Instead, you tug on Sloan's shirt and they turn towards you immediately. You point upwards towards the second floor and they nod.

The relief as soon as you stepped on the upper floor was immense. Whatever magic they used to make it monumentally quieter up here should be used considerably more in all public spaces. You feel confident enough to remove your hearing protection and place it around your neck for now.

"Do you mind if we stay up here?" You ask.

"Of course not. Wherever you feel safest!"

You're so thankful that they're understanding.

You both sit near the back of the venue on a row of interconnected seating where it was dimmer so the flashing lights didn't irritate your eyes.

"You're doing great so far!"

Sloan cups your face affectionately and you reach up to place your hand over theirs. The two of you watch everything going on from your safe little place in the corner– and the view was by no means bad, either. You could see the current band playing and the crowd of fans cheering their hearts out.

"Do you want anything to drink? I can get us something if you want." They offer.

"Maybe just a soda." You reply.

"Alright. You don't mind if I have a drink or two, do you?" They ask.

You shake your head. They pat your head and lean down to give you a kiss to your forehead before walking off. In the mean time you remove your backpack and hug it close to your chest in case you needed quick access. You watch as different people walk up and down the stairs, sit down, mingle and talk to each other and you can't help but wonder what it must be like to have a life without debilitating anxiety.

"Well then... didn't expect to see you here." A familiar voice sounds from behind you, and your anxiety spikes.

Once she steps out into view your nerves relax again.

"Illari? You're a fan of rock music? Also, you look gorgeous!" You smile as your friend comes to greet you.

"I guess we never really talked about music much. I didn't expect you to like it, either." Illari returns your warm smile, except when she does it, it feels like genuine sunshine. "You also look great!"

"Aww man, who invited this nerd?" You hear Sloan joke as they return with a beer and your favorite soda. They sit next to you with a grin on their face.

Illari takes a seat on the opposite side of you. "You're the one to talk."

She's not great at returning insults, but she tries her best.

The three of you exchange casual conversation for a little while as the first band concludes their performance and the next one begins setting up. For a while all is well, and your heart is at peace.

"So– you didn't tell either of us you liked rock music Illari!"

"I do! I promise. I'm also on a date–"

"A WHAT?!"

Illari giggles at Sloan's reaction. You have to admit you're also surprised.

"WITH WHO?!"

"Uh, with me?" A devious voice replies.

A beautiful girl approaches Illari and places a quick kiss to her lips.

"KIRIKO?! OH MY GOD!!!"

You've never met this girl before.

"We've been dating for a while. You just never noticed." Kiriko's eyes fall on to you. "Who's your date, then? I don't believe we've met."

Your hands grip your backpack even harder as the spotlight is metaphorically put on you.

"This is [Y/N]! I told you that I fixed their stuffie for them when all that... drama... happened."

"Oh! That's right. I'm really sorry that happened to you." Kiriko's face warms up after hearing your name. "I have a fox stuffie I made myself! I'd be happy to show you sometime!"

Illari stands up and Kiriko wraps her arm around her waist. "Well it was nice meeting you, [Y/N]! See you around sometime!"

You nod with a content look on your face. The pair wander back downstairs and disappear into the crowd. The music begins to play once again.

You turn towards your beloved and smile.

"I'm glad this is going better than expected." You admit, and the joy on Sloan's face is immense.

It was clear they loved seeing you enjoy yourself.

"And I'm glad you're having a good time, mi corazón."

The two of you enjoy your drinks in a comfortable silence before the song changes. A mosh pit almost immediately begins to form.

"OH! I gotta go join in–" They immediately stand up before the realization hits them. "Would you be fine if I went downstairs for a song or two? I promise I'll be back up here afterwards!" They grab your hands and beg.

You can feel your nerves activate at the thought of being left alone... but you didn't want to see your beloved disappointed.

"Okay. Just be careful!"

"I will be!" They head towards the stairs before turning back one last time. "I'll be back, I promise!"

Then you were truly alone. You clutch your backpack again before opening it for a fidget toy– a little button pressing mini game with cute sounds and visuals. It keeps your fingers and mind occupied for a small amount of time. More people continue to pass you by but you continue your game without looking up.

To your dismay, someone practically falls on to the couch next to you. The scent of alcohol assaults your senses and you attempt to ignore it.

Just mind your own business.

"Hey."

Oh no.

You look up from your fidget toy and your fidget toy session ends with a GAME OVER.

"Um, hi."

They're so drunk that they barely register your reply. You slide in the opposite direction of them when they're looking away from you. Your heart begins to pound and dread fills the entirety of your body. They turn back with a grin.

"You're pretty cute." Their words slur together.

"Oh! Uh, thanks." You fake a smile.

"How much?"

You thought you were hearing things, so you ask them to repeat the question.

"How. Much?" They hiccup.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I'm not who you're looking for–"

You start to get up before a hand grabs your hair. Pure, unadulterated terror fills your entire body and your nerves begin to sear in straight anxiety.

You knew it was a mistake to go out tonight. You knew it, and you went against your better judgement anyway.

"Hey! You didn't answer my question! How much? I can pay with whatever you want–"

"I'm sorry but I don't do that type of work!"

You wince and cry out in pain as they attempt to pull you back down.

"Hold on!"

Without any other choice you let out a scream to get other people's attention. All the heads on the second floor turn to see what's going on. Your hair is still being pulled on by a total stranger.

"Hey! Let them go, right now!" A tall, muscular girl shouts and makes her way over. A shorter, more petite girl follows behind.

"I'm recording right now! Let them go or we'll go to the police!" The shorter girl demands.

The drunk person finally lets go of your hair and you run as fast as you could with no direction in mind– but unknown to you, they begin to follow suit. A girl with spiky brown hair sticks her foot out and trips them after she lets you run past her.

You rush out the door and into the night with tears streaming down your face. You're heaving, screaming and running until you're lost and exhausted.

"What's going on over here?" Someone in the crowd of the second floor asks.

"Can someone call the police? This person just assaulted someone!" Brigitte asks.

Security immediately arrives to escort the drunk person out from the venue.

"I got the whole thing on video." Hana places her burning hot phone in her back pocket. "Apparently in 4K and 60 FPS. My phone is on fire..."

"What about that poor person who ran? Are they okay? Should we go and look for them?" Lena suggests.

All three girls stare into the darkness of the night.

"Oh! Look! They left their bag!" Hana notices, walking over to it. "There's also two drinks. They obviously came here with someone."

She unzips your bag and digs through your stuff as carefully as possible. "That's not good. Their phones in here, and their medicine."

"Medicine? Do you know what it's for?" Brigitte asks.

Hana shakes her head.

"Oh! Angela might know!"

Lena takes a picture of your medicine and sends it directly to Angela– lovingly assigned the nickname "Dr. Mercy" in her phone.

🧡 AF Traysi ⏱️: Angela it's an emergency!!! (10:09 PM)

🧡 AF Traysi ⏱️: (Uploaded a photo at 10:10 PM.)

🧡 AF Traysi ⏱️: what is this pill? please respond asap!!! :((( (10:10 PM)

💛 Dr. Mercy 😇🪽: Lena, what's going on? (10:16 PM)

💛 Dr. Mercy 😇🪽: I'm not well versed in medication but I've seen those given to patients before surgery. It's an anxiety pill. (10:17 PM)

💛 Dr. Mercy 😇🪽: What in the world is happening? (10:17 PM)

🧡 AF Traysi ⏱️: no time to explain Angela!!! I promise it wasn't me though!!! (10:18 PM)

Another message from Angela pops up but Lena puts her phone back in her pocket.

"Angela said it was for anxiety."

"Well, we can't just let them wander the streets alone without their personal possessions, especially their medication... we have to at least try to find them." Brigitte adds.

"How do we even start? They could be anywhere by now!" Hana frowns.

All three girls look at each other in anticipation.

"Group chat?" Brigitte suggests.

"Group chat." Hana and Lena reply at the same time.

✨🎶 LE SERAFFIM 4EVR 🪩✨

💖 AF BB 💪🏻: (Uploaded a photo at 10:20 PM.)

💝 AF Dazzle 💋: Alright lets see if this summons her (10:20 PM)

🦊 AF ✨✨: Huh??? That's [Y/N]s ID??? What's going on (10:21 PM)

🧡 AF Traysi ⏱️: Long story short we need to find this person before something else bad happens :( (10:21 PM)

👾: (Uploaded a photo at 10:23 PM.)

✨💜 JUNKRAT LE SSERAFIM STAN FOR LIFE 💜✨: huh (10:23 PM)

"SO, DO WE TELL THEM OR NOT?" Illari yells at the top of her lungs.

Kiriko and Illari glance at Sloan absolutely losing it in the mosh pit.

"WE HAVE TO! IT'S [Y/N]!" Kiriko replies at the same volume.

She turns and begins to brave the overly excited crowd. After what feels like hours of swimming upstream she reaches up and clasps Sloan on the shoulder. Instantly she feels their fist slam directly into her eye and she yells out in pain. Sloan turns around and gasps.

"OH MY GOD, KIRIKO, ARE YOU OKAY? I'M SO SORRY!"

Glowing blue petals float around her before she shakes her head to stabilize herself.

"THAT'S OKAY! MAGICAL FOX SPIRIT PROMOTES FAST HEALING!" She gets back to the important topic at hand. "LISTEN, [Y/N]–"

As soon as they hear your name they become dead serious. Unfortunately for Kiriko though, a massive wave of people separates the two of them and their conversation is cut short. She's forced back towards the entrance near Illari.

"WHAT DO WE DO NOW?" Illari asks.

"I HAVE AN IDEA BUT YOU'LL NEED TO TRUST ME!"

Before Illari can answer Kiriko begins a sequence of fast hand movements and more glowing blue petals begin to form inside the venue. People thought it was some sort of visual effect the band had planned on doing and grew wilder at the scene. A rush of wind courses inside the building as Kiriko's kitsune grants her the strength she needs to begin pushing people out the way, but is rightfully stopped by Illari before that happens.

"WE CAN'T JUST SHOVE PEOPLE, IT'LL START A MASSIVE FIGHT!" Illari pulls her back by her side.

"WHAT DO YOU SUGGEST, THEN?"

"LET ME SIT ON YOUR SHOULDERS!"

"THIS IS NO TIME FOR PIGGY BACK RIDES!"

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!"

In the middle of the planning Sloan begins to fight their way out of the crowd to the best of their ability, but it feels nearly impossible to move forward when you're being pushed back by dozens of people.

That's when they feel it– the breeze... their eyes turn teal blue.

From the very back they can see Illari waving their arms frantically attempting to call them over.

They move through the crowd effortlessly.

Illari hops off Kiriko's shoulders once Sloan makes it safely to their position before the kitsune's rush wears off.

"WHAT'S GOING ON?" They ask.

"UPSTAIRS! NOW!" Illari replies.

The group of six huddle together in the back as the atmosphere around the venue slowly turns back to normal. Sloan goes through your backpack just to make sure everything is still safe inside. Thankfully, all is left mostly untouched aside from Hana's search from earlier.

"Sombra sent us this picture. We're pretty sure they're only a few blocks away, but we still have to hurry or else they'll be gone by the time we get there."

Brigitte hands their phone to Sloan.

"Oh God... I really shouldn't have left them on their own." Their tone is sullen and full of guilt, just like the look on their face.

"There's no time to blame yourself. We have to find [Y/N] before something else happens." Illari places a comforting hand on their shoulder.

They only nod.

"Okay. You, Kiriko and Sloan go one way. We'll go the other. The entire city is designed to lead back to the north. Don't ask me how I know that–" Brigitte starts to remember the struggle of trying to find this place, but there's no time for that. "If they are where we think they are then it should be easy to get to them from here. If not... then we'll plan something else when we get there. Let's just get going before we have to start planning again."

Nobody argues with that.

"So, let me get this straight... you went to a music show–" Sombra begins counting on her fingers "Got assaulted by some random drunk person, ran, forgot all your stuff and now you're trying to find your way back?"

You nod while attempting to wipe your eyes dry. All of your smeared, ruined makeup had been rubbed off by now. A loud crack of thunder sounds in the distance announcing rain was on its way.

"Hm. Not the trickiest situation I've ever heard of..." Sombra then scoffs. "Definitely one of the funniest, though."

You crouch to your knees and began sobbing uncontrollably once again. "I'm going to die out here!" You shout, feeling totally helpless like a lost child in a grocery store.

Sombra watches as you begin having a genuine mental breakdown– does she actually feel bad, for once in her adult life...? Perhaps a little.

She pulls up a screen out of thin air and watches as the group of six people frantically searches for– what she's assuming is– this person in front of her. She raises an eyebrow as one of the colored dots on her screen comes close to her location but turns around at the very last moment.

"Wow." She comments as if she's watching a game. "These guys are hopeless."

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" You accuse the girl in front of you with a real, sincere despair.

Sombra chokes back a laugh.

"No, I'm no murderer. Not yet, anyway." Now, she laughs. "I wouldn't waste my first kill on you, though."

You can't tell rather to feel insulted or relieved... so you go with relieved. It's not enough to stop your full on meltdown, however.

"Now, let's see. Oooh!" Sombra watches once again as one the dots come closer, only to make the same mistake of getting turned around. "Oh. They must be throwing. There's no way!"

Your crying becomes more intense. She sighs, closes the screen and rolls her eyes before hacking a nearby vending machine for two sodas. She walks over and proceeds to offer you one.

"Here. Don't tell anybody I did this, okay?"

It's your favorite soda.

"H-huh?" You take the soda with gratitude. "How'd you know?"

"It's my favorite, too."

You open the bottle cap and drink all of the fizzy contents inside. It feels refreshing to your scratched up and tired throat.

"Now stop crying." Sombra pulls up her tracking screen again. "Or at least be quieter. I can't hear myself think."

Out of fear for your life you do as the lady tells you, but not even a minute later...

"Ah. Finally. My work here is done."

You glance up only to notice the lady who helped you has completely disappeared.

"[Y/N]?" You hear Illari's voice in the distance. "[Y/N]!"

You stand up to greet her, but she nearly knocks you down with a charging hug.

"[Y/N]!" Kiriko follows suit, using her kitsune rush to pick you up and swing you around.

You're overwhelmed by the amount of attention you receive.

"Oh, sorry... maybe I shouldn't have done that."

You smile despite the anxiety. "It's okay."

"Hey! Good looking out, Illari!" The muscular girl you don't recognize runs up to you next. The petite girl isn't far behind, just like you saw them last.

There's two blinding flashes of blue light as another short, petite girl appears out of thin air. You thought she looked familiar... but there's no time to rack your brain right now.

"Oh, good! We all made it!" The petite girl– the one behind the muscular girl– cheers. "Wait, where's Sloan?"

You can hear loud, sprinting footsteps approach in the distance before everyone nearly gets knocked out of the way. "[Y/N]!!!"

They nearly knock you to the ground just as Illari had, only this time it was several times more intense. You feel their arms wrap around you in the tightest hug they've ever given you. You embrace them with relief flooding your tired brain. They hold the back of your head and nuzzle into your face as if they haven't seen you in years.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," They start crying. "Mi vida, I'm so, so sorry..."

"It's okay. I'm okay." You reassure them.

Everyone is quiet as the reunion takes place and you feel all the trauma of tonight drain from your being as you're held by the person who loves and cherishes you the most. Neither one of you wanted to be the one who pulls away.

"Well not to be a downer but it's about to start raining!" Someone spoke. It was the petite girl who flashed into existence.

"And I think the last band just got done with their set. It's nearly midnight." Kiriko adds with sadness.

"Well... while we're here, why don't we give [Y/N] back their stuff?"

Sloan pulls away long enough to grab your backpack from the muscular girl. "Thanks again, Brigitte."

You place it on to your back and all feels right in the world once more.

"No problem!" The muscular girl responds. So... her name is Brigitte.

"Well, we might as well introduce ourselves! I'm Hana!" The petite girl behind Brigitte chimes in. "Like the number one gamer in South Korea type Hana!"

"I'm Lena!" The girl who blinked into existence speaks up next. "Like the, umm... Tracer type Lena!"

That name rings a bell.

"Overwatch?" You question.

"Well, yes, but it's our off day today!" Lena replies.

"Wow." Is all you can say.

You feel your invisible mask beginning to slip. You're not sure how much longer you can take being out here before another anxiety episode occurs.

"I don't want to be rude, it's really nice to meet all of you." You turn to your beloved. "But... can we go home?" You ask, tired and ready to collapse.

"I think that would be the best idea for all of us. Tonight has been more than eventful!" Lena suggests.

From the shadows, Sombra watches as the group disperses after exchanging goodbyes. As soon as she was alone she picks up the empty soda bottle you accidentally left behind and tosses it into the trash.

"Hmph."

"Going soft?"

She can hear a mocking male voice on the end of the coms.

"Not now, Mauga."

"Haha! Thought so."

She simply just sinks back into the darkness she came from without a word.

✨💜JUNKRAT LE SSERAFIM STAN FOR LIFE 💜✨: so is anybody going to tell me what happened or am i going to have to make up the story myself (12:45 AM)

🧡 AF Traysi ⏱️: In the morning (12:52 AM)

✨💜 JUNKRAT LE SSERAFIM STAN FOR LIFE 💜✨: but it's morning in australia (12:52 AM)

🧡 AF Traysi ⏱️: Goodnight junkrat (12:53 AM)

👾: (is typing...)

#weeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!! dropping it at midnight again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#overwatch #overwatch 2 #venture x reader #venture x you #overwatch fanfiction #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #sloane cameron #sloan cameron #venture overwatch

29 notes · View notes

mubabee · 1 month

Text

Genderbent Tracerrr

He’s British so it was by law to make him say love

#x reader #overwatch #overwatch x reader #tracer #tracer x reader #tracer x you #tracer x y/n #y/n #y/n x character #x y/n #overwatch x you #overwatch x y/n #art #digital art #British maaannnn

260 notes · View notes

pink-valkyrie-writes · 1 year

Text

Mercy, Moira, Kiriko, Junker Queen and Sombra relationship hc’s

- reader is kept gender neutral

-warnings: fluff, some angst, nsfw

-I am very gay for these women so why not write about them:) This post is also gonna be a long one so hop in fellas

-Sombra’s is a little longer due for backstory reasons

-part 2!

Mercy

- ah yes, the earth angel herself who has had my heart since 2016 <3

-Angela is very loyal and loving to you but her role as a medic gets in the way most of the time. She feels bad every time she has to leave during the night (especially after making love to you, she doesn’t see it as just sex), during date nights, or even on her days off that you planned for her to de-stress

-but even with all that, you stay by her side and help get rid of that fear. You love how she is dedicated to her job and how amazing she is at it

- I could imagine from the crazy hours she works, she is sleep deprived. She gets maybe 3 hours of sleep at most. When she comes home to see you on the couch, she slips off her shoes and coat to come lay on top of you and sleep.

-She loves when you come and visit her at work!!! Whether you work for overwatch or not, spending her lunch break with you, with food that you bring for her, always puts a smile on her face

-Though you love her, you do find yourself sad or disappointed a lot because of her work. You know this isn’t her fault and she always makes it up to you, but you do get lonely. You would find yourself crying to sleep at night. Yes, you’re not hero, but a regular person who was lucky enough to get with this angel of a woman, but at what price?

-Every relationship has their arguments, yours doesn’t get too heated cause you both are rational, but you two do find yourself arguing in the beginning of her always work and how you feel lonely in a place you both share and call home. When she first saw you cry during an argument due to this problem, Angela felt her stomach sink. She never intended to make you cry or be upset. She’s able to calm you down, also expressing her fear of you leaving her

- You both come to an agreement to always let the other know how you feel and try to understand where they are coming from. Angela actually starts looking for assistants to train! She would like to have help around the office to get work done faster but also means she can spend time you with.

-She also wants you to become well acquainted with them as well in case you ever needed help from them and vice versa. A huge strain was lifted off of your relationship and she found herself more at home with you <3

-Pulling away from the topic of work, Angela loves to cook meals with you! Specially if they meals are from her home country.

-Whenever you made a traditional swiss dishes for your anniversary, she teared up and thanked you over and over again. It’s hard to get a meal from home whenever your work is crazy, she’s thankful you thought of her love for her country

-Spa day!!! She loves when you run her a warm bath with her favorite scented candles of pomegranate, red berries, and patchouli (totally not the candle I have in my room)

-Angela loves doing face masks with you to detox <3

-Idk why I see her as a handy person??? Oh you got a new desk?? Oh s/o let her build it for you. Got a new shelf? Don’t worry, Angela can do it

-Angela loves to show you off to her coworkers. You’re the light of her life, her loving s/o. She would go to the ends of the earth for you

nsfw

-Doesn’t matter what you identify as, she tops. End of story. There are a few occasions she bottoms.

-She always has to take care of people but whenever she takes care of you sexually, she feels the same fulfillment after a days of work

-Doesn’t mean she sees sex as a chore or job!!! she just loves being able to take care of her baby <3

- Event though she wears a strap, she loves to watch you suck the dildo that’s in the harness. She can’t feel anything but just seeing you looking up at her with your sweet eyes her mind goes blank and can only think of how beautiful you are. Loves to receive and give oral <3

-Will absolutely play doctor with you but she slips in medical terms you don’t understand lol

-Her breast is definitely sensitive- so when you are relaxing on the couch and you slip your hands up her shirt to massage her chest, she’s putty in your hands. Holding onto your wrists and she leans her head back and moans for you

-Loves when you ride her- when she looks up at you, you look absolutely ethereal riding her strap

-When the few times she does bottom, she finds herself slipping into her native language, switching from english to german, especially when she’s getting close. Even if you don’t understand german, you picked up on a few phrases yourself

-Like I said, my gal is sensitive, so vibrators are a good friend to have! She loves when you look her in her eyes when you control the vibrator, making her look into your eyes when she cums <3

Moira

-my favorite “un-ethical” genetic engineer (aka my lesbian lover)

-Moira is definitely hard person to come around due to her intimidating presence. But that didn’t stop you from pinning for her

-When she notices people, she takes subtle mental notes. When she first met you, she isn’t thought how cute you are, adorable even

-The first few times she interacted with you it was strictly about work, But over time you noticed how she would make little jokes to you like:

“did you also notice how that guy is wearing his tie wrong?’

“Hello y/n, did sombra contact you today about lunch plans? Are you going to her little...festivity?” (she prayed you would say yes)

“Y/n, would you like to come get coffee with me?”

-That was her first time asking you out and you loved it! She took you to her favorite cafe that happened to be anime themed and slowly she would tell you how her drink inspired from Naruto was the best and the plot line of the show

-When your relationship starts, Moira will put her work above you. Sorry not sorry, it’s the truth. Science is her entire life, she cares and adores you, but her first love is science

-It does pain you she chooses science over you. Date night? Oops sorry, I forgot, I was caught up with work. You cooked dinner? Sorry my love, I’m caught up at work right now so don’t stay up for me. Sometimes you find yourself crying to sleep and when you wake up with puffy eyes, Moira points them out but you brush it off.

-One night it came to a halt. You were getting ready to leave for the day and went to go grab your lover for home time. When you called her name she didn’t answer, You repeated yourself and she snapped for you to leave her alone and that she’s busy. You tell Moira that you’ll be cooking dinner tonight and she went on with her favorite sentence, “Sorry my love, I’m staying late tonight, you don’t have to wait up for me okay?”

-Something snapped, you started to yell how she gives all her attention to her work and never you. How at this point you were just someone she could have company with. Moira scoffed, “Why do you have to act so childish? I already told you from the beginning what your place is,”

-Childish? Your place...? Without saying another word, you slammed her door, storming to the car to get home. As soon as you arrive you burst into tears crying while getting undressed to go to bed. The sheets and blanket smelled like her, which made you cry harder. You decided to take an old shirt of hers and put it on a pillow, grab a round throw pillow, and made a makeshift model of Moira. You kissed the pillows cheek and whispered a goodnight.

-She come home that night upset, mad at you and herself, why couldn’t you understand her work? Why couldn’t she be a better girlfriend? She quietly reheated leftovers you made and eat in silence. God she hates this silence.

-When she came into your shared room her heart ached. Were you so deprived of her you had to make a makeshift version of her? Now she understands how lonely you truly feel. She changed and climbed into bed, removing the pillows from your grasp. You woke up a bit and she shush you to go back to sleep. She held you to her chest as she confessed how bad she felt from earlier, how she was wrong for underestimating your feelings and how she was in the wrong, not you. You began to cry softly at her words, and she shushed you, kissing your forehead and reassuring she loved you.

-That morning you woke up in her arms, but she was already awake watching you sleep. She kissed you good morning and told you she called the next few days off to be with you and make up for lost time. She apologized once again but this time you kissed her to let her know you forgive her.

-all right let’s move onto happy stuff!!

-When she is at her apartment with you, she loves to watch anime with you. If you’re an anime fan, good, she loves that! You two can talk about your favorite shows, compare theories, and even show each other new animes to talk about

-At times, she catches herself feeling embarrassed since anime is typically “for kids and young adults”, she’s an older woman and feels a bit insecure about it. Please comfort her!! Tell her it’s okay to have interests

-She has little figures of her favorite characters on a shelf in her room idc- definitely cosplayed once or twice and will cosplay with you!

-Since Moira is busy, take-out and delivery services are your best friends!

-Moira has never felt this much of a connection with someone before and she doesn’t want to lose it. She loves when you kiss the knuckles of her corrupted arm, showing love to the science she has done. That arms also tends to hurt from time to time so heat packs!! Loves the lay in bed with you with you hold the heat pad to her arm to help her relax

-Moira is a sucker for being a little spoon but won’t admit it, please hold her too!!

nsfw

-Another top! Moira needs to dominant everything she does, including you <3 but she does bottom is you beg nicely

-another proud strap user, isn’t one for receiving oral but loves to use her mouth on you. She also loves to look at you while doing so to make you shy

-loves missionary! she loves to see all your facial reaction whenever she goes fast, rough, slow, or soft

-a secret of hers is she wants you to dress up as her favorite character for her <3 and if you do she is caught off guard but enjoys herself either way and will thank you after (maybe ask you to do it again some time)

-Moira isn’t above of dragging you into her empty lab and fingering you (don’t worry her middle and index fingernails are press on and can be removed) The risk of getting caught excites her, but she always keeps a hand over your mouth just incase

-I see her as the type to have a flogger or whip, she loves to see how your body reacts to the slight pain and how you vocal you are when you have your ass and thighs slapped by her

-latex lady. I won’t elaborate

-I am part of the “calling hot woman ‘daddy’ committee. She feels powerful when that word slips out of your mouth. She does lean to the androgynous side, she does expect to hear ‘mommy’ at most, which you have called her, but she actually prefers daddy

-play with her breast and suck her nipples. Small boobs are the best and always melts when you play with her. She gets sensitive and lets out breathy moans which makes you go wild <3

-When she bottoms, praise her! She isn’t well liked among her colleuges or really anyone at Talon, so when you tell her she’s amazing and doing a great job, she will cover her face (uncover her beautiful face )

-totally down for you to finger her while she reads her books <3

Kiriko

- my little fox hehe <3

-Kiriko is definitely an outgoing person! She’s involved with her community, and you admired her for that!

-She met you at a festival and couldn’t help but stop and stare when she saw you. How beautiful and cheerful you were made her turn her head

-Though she is outgoing, doesn’t mean she’s confident when it comes to asking people out. She feels super shy and she definitely doesn’t want to mess up at all

-When you two are on a date and you see how almost everyone knows who she is and is all smiles when Kiriko passes by, you knew she was a good person to be around

-Kiriko knows sign language and will teach you if you ask! If you are deaf, it wouldn’t faze her. She just sees you as another person, not your disability.

-You love to see how she interacts with kids. If you ever want kids in the future of your relationship, she would be all for it. Kiriko also loves to see you interact with the little girl in her cinematic! Seeing you interact with the child makes her heartbeat faster (in a good way)

-Since you’re with Kiriko, be prepared for her mother and the Shimada brothers. Her mother wants nothing but the best for her, you need to prove that you are strong enough physically and mentally. You never know what can happen.

-Hanzo and Genji are the other ones you have to look at out. Genji is more laid back, a “cool older brother” figure who only wants you to prove you are always going to be there for Kiriko. Hanzo on the other hand is the protective older brother figure who agrees with her mother. He silently judges you with her mother, like he does most people, but with you it feels more frequent, and you can’t help but snap after built up tension

-This pressure from people outside of your relationship builds on you. You admitted to Kiriko about this, and she felt conflicted. Yes, she trusts you and knows you care about her, but she will always listen and respect her elders and defend them at first

-You felt bad for being upset, knowing this is her family worrying about her but there is only so much criticism you can handle, specially from people you want to make a good impression on. You tell this to her and she understands completely where you’re coming from. She doesn’t want to upset you more, but this is her mother we are talking about. You cry to her how you don’t feel good enough for her and constantly worried of doing the wrong thing, knowing her mother or brothers are waiting till you slip up to point it out.

-The two of you go back and forth on this multiple times till you come to an agreement. You train with her mother and Hanzo but they have to take it easy on you and let you prove that you are just right for her. Though she is an adult, she’ll always be her mother’s baby and Hanzo’s little sister

-Kiriko loves going on rides on her bike (as a voice line indicates) and will take you on a ride! Either if you have your own or if you hop on hers. She loves taking you to different places on her bike hehe <3

-It’s definitely your job to help her eat REAL meals, not just donuts and junk food. (which her mother praises you for)

-Will tell you all the stories of the fox spirit and her personally experiences <3 specially likes it when she can lay her head in your lap and go on and on about her stories

-she will be more than happy to teach any martial art moves to help you in combat! She is your number one supporter and will always be there to cheer you on

-she can’t wait for the night where her mother invites you over for dinner and talks to you, not giving you glancing or make subtle comments on your lack of fighting skills

nsfw

-A switch but I can def see her leaning towards being a bottom, but more of a bossy bottom

-She loves to receive oral but she always returns the favor, she always whines whenever you when use your tongue

-Definitely a hair pulling. Either it be when you give her head or if she if pulling your hair back when she is fucking you

-Since she is blessed by the fox spirit, I know she has sharp canines and I know she loves to bite and mark you for others to see. After your session, she always treats your bites and make sure you’re okay

-will be down to fuck after training, especially if the two of you were sparring and being physical with each other. She will be on top for these sessions, her adrenaline is already running and wants to be rough with you

-will keep going till she out of energy, she’s an all nighter while the others on this list can go for 2-3 rounds

-She loves to play soft music in the background while you two fuck, it enhances the atmosphere, and she loves to be fucked by you to her favorite songs

-favorite position would be cuddle fucking, she can’t place her finger on it but having you close to her while you slowly grind into her, filling her up, she feels so hot and bothered.

- She loves the way you whisper into her ear as you lift her leg up to fuck her deeper, you always manage to take her breath away. Kiriko really love this position for morning sex as well

Junker Queen

-waaaa my muscular wife

-Odessa loved being the queen of Junker Town-she’s a strong ruler, knows what’s best, and can handle her own...but it does get lonely at the top

-Doesn’t matter if you’re a junker or an outsider that happened to stumble across to Junker Town, you catch her eye immediately. You stand out to her, even if she is fighting again in the reckoning to keep her title as queen

-She would come stop you were ever you were and talk to you. Of course, you were intimidated by the 7-foot-tall woman in front of you, but you were able to keep your composure for the conversation

-Odessa was blunt with you and told you that you caught her attention, in a good way of course, and how she wanted to get to know you better. Though she is tough as steel, she still gets a bit nervous of fear of being rejected

-Once she has made things official with you, she introduces you to her people as the other queen of Junker Town. Of course people were surprised she dated but they show you the same amount of respect.

-They know if they were to ever hurt, disobey, or disrespect you in any, not Odessa, but Junker Queen will personally beat the shit out of them and toss them to the wastelands

-Though you appreciate her standing up for you, the violence to you is too much after some time. when you try to talk to her about this she yells how she does it for you, it’s all for you. She makes into a one-man screaming battle, but she’s a lover by heart and will come to you after a few hours and apologize. She gets on her knees and hugs you by your waist, head resting on your chest

-At this point she opens up to you about her time in the Wastelands and how they have forever changed her. She cares for you like she cared for family, fighting every day to live in the harsh outside world of Junker Town. She admits she is scared to death to lose you and fights for you like how she fought for her loved ones. Odessa also admits to having nightmares in your shared bed but never wakes you up because she needs to have strong image and doesn’t want to be seen as weak

-By the end of this confession she is crying into your chest. You rub the top of her back and you comfort her. You remind her that you may be with the Junker Queen, you’re also with Odessa Stone

-She now is rational with her decision making and you tell her to ask for your help when need be, you told her it’s okay to ask for help. Hell, everyone her people noticed an attitude change when you came around, you’re great for her!

-Odessa loves sharing everything she has with you, especially music! She loves to blast her rock music in her chambers with you, jumping on the bed you two share and going into laughing fits together

-Your girlfriend is a very handy and resourceful person, you have to be to live in Junker Town. She will make you special weaponry and armor <3 always craving her and your initials into the metal

-I feel Odessa can do your hair! From cutting it to dying it, your girlfriend will do anything to help you feel beautiful with your appearance, even though you’re already so beautiful to her <3

-You are also in LOVE with her accent, she already a pretty rough girl and her voice is *chef’s kiss*. Sometimes when she’s mad and goes full aussie you can’t really understand her unless you yourself are aussie

nsfw

-She’s a total dom, no bottoming for her. She loves when “you please your queen”

-the only thing she’ll really “bottom” for is receiving oral. She loves how tiny you look compared to her and think you look sweet when you eat her out. She loves to eat you out but LOVES when you sit on her face. None of that hovering shit, she wants the full thing. She’s a big girl and can handle it!

-Odessa loves when you sit in her lap and bounce on her strap, she has a size kink and plans to utilize it. Not even just sexually, she loves how small you are and because of your size, she will fuck you standing up. She loves the amount of power she holds outside and in the bedroom.

-She also plays music during sex! But she plays music from time to time when you guys have sex unlike Kiriko who plays music during sex pretty often. there’s something about fucking you hard to the beat of her favorite songs, since her favs are metal, be prepared to be banged to the drum rhythm

-she will bring in Gracie from time to time. She mostly uses her to cut your clothes off your body but if you are comfortable with it, she will carve in her name into your thigh. She always makes sure to clean up and clean your cuts effectively, so they don’t get infected

-Throne sex! Throne sex! Throne sex! She doesn’t even care if people see or not, she finds it so hot that you are so willing to please her in a chair that represents her power and dominance over you and her people

-Her favorite position is doggy style. The way you look back at Odessa and moan her name like a prayer always does it for her. Slapping your ass to watch it jiggle, making you look back at her, pulling you by your hair...all of the things she loves other than you as a person <3

Sombra

- my silly hacker who also has had my heart since 2016<3

-Oliva kept herself in the shadows, she needed to so she can protect her identity as Sombra. She always needed to know everything about everyone, no matter what.

-As another night passes, another person’s skeletons in their closet are found by Sombra. She looks through the picture of the businessman she planned on exploiting next, but something caught her eye. In the picture of what it seems to be a faculty group photo, she spotted you in the back row. She zoomed in and couldn’t help but admire how pretty you are, now her focus was on you. For the next few days she tries her best to find everything about you. Where you live, your childhood, the college you went to, hell even your internet browsing history. And she wasn’t doing this for her own benefit to expose you, she was obsessed with you

-For the next Talon mission, they were able to break into the companies building and she was able to have a chat about ‘business matters’ with your boss. As a deal, he transferred some employees, including you, for ‘business opportunities’ to work for Talon in fear of his dirty deeds going public

-You were comforted to know that you fellow employees were there with you to comfort you in with this change. You’ve heard of Talon and what they stand for and feel like you have to walk on eggshells there. Though you didn’t interact too much with the head council, Sombra seem to have an eye on you

-Yes, she would mess with your co workers but never seem to do that with you. With them there was some malicious factor behind it but when Sombra teased it you it was like you two have been friends for years. After a while, Sombra was finally close enough to you to ask you out, which you accepted. She was super happy to know that the efforts worked out in her favor, they always did

-She would come visit you when you would work and keep you entertained while you slaved away to the paperwork in front of you. Massaging your shoulders, whispering compliments into your ear, and kissing your cheeks were her favorite thing to distract you with while you worked.

-You were close with your old boss and kept in contact with him. After a long phone call, he had admitted that Sombra threated him to give him employees or else he would be exposed to the public. He mentioned how Sombra was very adamite about you coming with her more than the others, saying it was like she knew you, wanted you, and had done this to get you.

-You felt frozen, was this true? Was this whole shift in not just your career life but your social life due to the fact your girlfriend just wanted you this whole time? This whole thing was planned out?

-On a war path, you stormed to her room and started to yell at her of how she could be so selfish and how you were just like a pretty china doll she could keep for fun. Sombra was so use on never being called out on her manipulative behavior. She couldn’t really defend herself know that you knew the truth. it was worse when you began to cry, sobbing into your hands.

-”What was this for huh?! You just wanted a “pretty girl” to call yours because you thought I was good looking?! YOU have changed and put my life in danger for YOUR benefit!”

-Not Sombra, but Olivia sat you down and confessed. For the first time she admitted her wrongs and she didn’t know how to do it. She tried her hardest, but you kept crying harder and left. After a few days, Olivia came to your room and wanted to talk, you agreed. She confessed you she was wrong for only seeing you as a pretty girl, not thinking about what being apart of Talon means for your life. By the end, she was crying though tried not to. You sighed and gave her a hug where she cried harder. When her crying stopped, you pulled back and gave her a kiss on the lips, which she happily accepted.

-You made Olivia promise to only stay by her side if she could protect from anything that came your way. You really did like her and honestly didn’t want to leave her. Olivia accepted and from that day on she has been 1000% honest with everything with you

-Now with the sadness out of the way, let’s focus on happy stuff!

-Sombra loves to cook with you! As Mercy, she loves when you cook meals that are home to her country. You always apologize in advance if it doesn’t taste like the “real thing” but she doesn’t care, she loves your cooking and your meals bring back memories of Dorado

-In a voice line interaction with Moira, she talks about the carpel tunnel in her wrists. When you two are laying down together, you always rub her wrists and fingers to drain the fluid build-up in her hands. She loves these soft, caring moments with you

-I bet her posture is really bad (just like mine) so whenever she is sitting in a chair, you always put a pillow between her back and the chair. She already had messed up hands, you can’t let your girlfriend have a messed up back too!

-Olivia loves to play with your hair, you let her try different style but do you trust her giving you a haircut?...not so much. Sorry Olivia, but Amélie has told your s/o of the time she cut her hair as a “prank”...which didn’t end well

-speaking of Amélie- her, Gaberial, and Moira asks you constantly how you can put up with her shenanigans. You shrug, they wouldn’t understand how you understand Olivia’s charm

-Dating Olivia you also become good friends with Siebren! Olivia makes it her job to watch out for him so he isn’t tested on, so if she isn’t around, you can watch over him! To some it seems like babysitting, but you end up really close to him! Olivia is happy to know that <3

nsfw

-my girl is a switch, 50/50

-Olivia loves watching you give her head, she thinks you look perfect between her legs. She also loves to eat you out, maybe one of her favorite things about sex with you tbh, she just loves watching you enjoy yourself and feel good

-With your permission, she has recorded some sessions with you. Whenever she goes away for missions and you aren’t around, she fingers herself to videos of her fucking you. she has also gave you videos to keep for yourself whenever you feel lonely with he gone.

-Olivia loves risky sex. Unlike Moira, she doesn’t cover your mouth and does it in a spot anyone can walk in. If someone happens to walk in and try to tell other people? Their social security and credit card numbers are already leaked for other hackers in the world to use

-Like Angela, if she is bottoming, she will start speaking to you in spanish but with her she will continue to speak in spanish until she is finished <3

-Olivia works with her fingers all day, you know her fingering game is good

-She is a hair puller when she’s on top, not so much for her when she is on bottom cause of the wires in her hair, have to be careful. So instead, she prefers it when you put her face into the mattress

-Favorite position is lotus. It’s a very intimate position and she loves to hold you in her arms as you ride her strap or vice versa. She loves to take her time and show you how much you mean to her. Her life is filled with craziness, but this sharing a moment like this with you will always be her favorite.

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

Thank you so much for reading!! I had a lot of fun writing this :00

likes and reblogs are always appreciated ! <3

part 2 coming!

1K notes · View notes